#after JUST getting the people to like him
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lilhawkeye3 · 1 day ago
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A Crash Course to Kendrick's Super Bowl Performance, from a Black Woman
Note: this does NOT go in depth into all of the song's lyrics. I don't have time to recount two decades of his discography. This is just a summary of the performance itself.
Let's start with the first visual we get:
UNCLE SAM - most notably recognized from WWII American wartime propaganda, Uncle Sam is the personification of American patriotism and freedom. The term "uncle" is also evocative of Uncle Tom from Uncle Tom's Cabin, an abolitionist book that aided in inciting the Civil War. Uncle is also a very common term (both endearment and derogatory) towards Black men (eg. "unc"). Samuel L Jackson was fantastic.
Uncle Sam also resembles a circus ringleader, notable for my next point:
THE GREAT AMERICAN GAME - no, not Super Bowl. The GAG is us the people being pitted against each other: through late-stage capitalism, through the culture war, through class warfare, through being built of the backs of slaves. We are all players in the GAG because none of us on this site were the oligarchs seated at the inauguration.
This is also seen as Kendrick's stage was a Play Station controller. Not only did it remind of circus rings visually, but it was a game battle stage. The Great American Game is a battle royale of the commoners for the amusement of the rich whites.
Remember the foods / Them color was tin and brown / But now they 100 and blue - For this I'll just say, look what the last election said about lowering the price of eggs... and look at the prices now.
The revolution about to be televised / You picked the right time / But the wrong guy - Election 2024 once more. *Edit to add, the first part of this lyric is in reference to the Black Liberation Song "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" by Gil Scott-Heron. Thanks to everyone who mentioned that.
THE FLAG DANCERS - yes, the dancers formed the US flag... off of the backs of Black people. Not a single white person in sight, and that's true of the cotton pickers in the fields. Plantations are part of how the US came to economic prominence after being a "backwater" colony. Remember tobacco? Cotton? Our bloodlines do. *Edit to add: they also all piled out of a clown car. The US flag in a clown car? Brilliant.
The red and blue dancers are also notable for representing the Crips and Bloods, two infamous street gangs. The dance in Not Like Us is the Crip Walk. I recommend researching more on your own time about them, but just know they are a large part of the stereotype of Black people being "ghetto."
TOO LOUD, TOO RECKLESS, TOO GHETTO. Do you really know how to play the game? - This is exactly what Black people, especially Black men, get told all the time. It's why we change our names on resumes if they sound "too Black." It's why we codeswitch in non-Black company. This is especially rich considering how non-Black people love our culture and love to make money off of us, as the latter part of the quote points to. And it's even more profound during the Super Bowl-- the NFL is majority Black players.
STREET LIGHT A CAPELLA -- "thug" stereotype dancers to counteract the a capella connotations, with Uncle Sam then saying that Kendrick figured out "bringing other street guys around being a culture cheat code." Yes, this is a direct hit at Drake (listen to "Not Like Us") but also politically. Look up "model minority". Notably I would point to Candace Owens, or the Miami Venezuelan political group that's been in the news recently, especially as this directly led to Kendrick being surrounded by...
DANCERS IN WHITE -- it's white America. That's... that's the allegory.
NOT LIKE US TEASER -- Kendrick says "Not Like Us" is "their favorite song." -> he means white people specifically here. It comes after he's surrounded by all white dancers, the women around him who are his call and response are also in white (my opinion, they represent the industry). He's saying "Not Like Us" is the favorite of yts because it is about BLACK MEN FIGHTING. This again is reflected in the video game stage and ringleader Uncle Sam.
SZA -- instead of giving what they want, we see SZA. She's one of Drake's exes and Kendrick has always supported her.
ALL THE STARS -- This was in the first Black Panther movie, which I recommend you watch. Rest in Power Chadwick. Notably, this movie was incredibly mainstream as a major Marvel movie, and then we have Uncle Sam say...
"THAT'S WHAT AMERICA WANTS: NICE AND CALM. DON'T MESS THIS UP" -- translation: Marvel (the industry, America, etc.) wanted a safe, semi-pop song because white American likes safe pop songs, not Kendrick's usual heavy rap style about his life as a Black man! Don't mess up what you've got going mainstream for having this "Black rap feud" with Drake, who is an R&B model minority to white people because he's safe.
So what does Kendrick say?
IT'S A CULTURAL DIVIDE / IMMA GET IT ON THE FLOOR -- He was warned not to be political or apologetically Black for this Super Bowl performance, but he is using this big stage opportunity to speak out.
40 ACRES AND A MULE / THIS IS BIGGER THAN THE MUSIC -- 40 acres and a mule are what the freed slaves were promised. Instead, this land went to white sharecroppers. Research Jim Crow laws.
THEY TRIED TO RIG THE GAME / BUT YOU CAN'T FAKE INFLUENCE -- rig the election, rig the industry like with model minority Drake, rig the Great American Game with culture war to distract from active class warfare.
NOT LIKE US -- the only thing I'll mention because it made me holler is Serena Williams crip walking on Drake's metaphorical grave. She's another one of his exes.
TURN THE TV OFF -- exactly like he said! The TV is a distraction, the Super Bowl is a distraction, the mainstream news is often a distraction. Turn it off and get with your people!
GAME OVER — could not see this on my stream but at the end of the performance, the lights in the stadium spelled this out. The world is watching, America…
In conclusion, Kendrick Lamar is a visionary and thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
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madamechrissy · 1 day ago
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Baby You're No Good
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Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader
Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?
CW- Arranged marriage trope, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, psychotic Geto lol- lots of hate sex, Suguru calling you a stupid monkey, angsty in places, FULL of smut. Reader is a virgin bc she's sheltered due to been promised to him. Reader is FEISTY asf and mean right back. Explicit sex and Geto being whipped/insane/obsessed and an ass. This part- fingering, fucking, loss of virginity, masturbation (suguru) finger sucking, hate sex, light angst. WC this part- 6.4k
Based on Clan Leader Geto- will be three parts <3 Plz share/comment/like if you enjoy!! Suguru is unappreciated I wanna give this psycho Princess a good fic!
Songs for this part-  Geto Suguru - Fill the Void - I hate everything about you
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Part One
You were to marry Suguru Geto, curse user, rumored cult leader, and clan leader to the major four clans there were. The Kamos, The Zenin, The Gojos and The Getos, the main four clans that you all know there are. As for Suguru’s family, it turns out he is now the clan leader for them, he is the one that they are now riding the whole line of the Geto Clan on.
Marrying you.
You stand there nervously, tummy feeling sick in your pretty white robes as you stare at this psychotic man, this man that thinks people without power are lesser, and perhaps worthless. Perhaps he wishes to eradicate you all, yet for his duty to the Geto clan, it leaves him to have to be with you, the chosen one from your family, for as long as you two were alive.
Maybe Suguru Geto back then was tolerable, back when he was just a clan leader and not all the rumors that are held, but now!? Being his bride was not just terrifying, it was a literal death sentence. After you’d given him heirs you were absolutely sure he’d eradicate you and perhaps anyone you’ve ever known and loved, including your family, who’d just given you the saddest of looks.
They weren’t here, you supposed even they couldn’t live with just handing their only daughter off to him, maybe before, you’d have been excited, remembering meeting him when you were just a teenager, he was a little older than you. Handsome and sweet with this smile that made you want to pinch his cheeks, he was so courteous and sweet, but that was a different man.
You look now, as you nervously step down the aisle, eyes of everyone on you aside from him, Suguru Geto. He’s decked out in brilliant emerald robes, laughing and murmuring to several girls near him. His long black hair is half up, showcasing his handsome features, yes if perhaps he wasn’t a psycho killer, you could find him attractive, not be sick to your stomach.
As some long red headed lady taps his shoulder, her long nails against him, he finally sees you then, and his jaw locks, you feel those violet eyes on you like a physical touch. You doubt he remembers your one meeting years ago, you doubt he recognizes you or cares, or sees you as anything but a nuisance, a duty. But you see his narrowed eyes dip down your body, taking you in.
Your heart hammers as you get closer, a mix of sorcerers scowling or smirking at you, along with the Geto clan looking curiously, murmuring here and there. Everyone hoped to stay on Suguru Geto’s good side, if he had one, you weren’t quite sure, feeling the insane energy emanating from him as he studies you. Another step, another click of your heel echoing in the immaculate hall.
It’s hard to be impressed with the beauty of it, of the Geto estate, surely it’s one of the nicest there are, there are four major families, and the Geto family is one. You don’t know how you ended up being selected, your family is certainly wealthy, but you wonder at your horrific luck now as you stand before him.
You have to lean your head back just to look at the tall man, towering over everyone in the room, he makes you feel so small, even smaller with his quiet assessment, as the room is full of hushed whispers. Half of them surely want you to just die, half of them want an heir from you, you imagine this man in front of you leaning down wants both.
Suguru eyes you carefully, yes you’re beautiful, but you clearly have not an ounce of power, not an ounce of any useful energy. You’re clearly just some pathetic little mortal, which disgusts him, you’re tiny and pathetic, useless. He’s so annoyed this is what he has to do, but he certainly can’t just not fulfill these obligations, as Suguru needs the backing of his family to gain more power.
Already so powerful, and with an enormous, loyal following, he detests that he has to in any way deal with his parents still, but he supposes he will handle it for now. Surely soon he’d have the precious few mortals he allows to live, to be loyal servants at his beck and call, pathetic ants that work for their lives he allows them.
Your eyes lower nervously, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, lights of the soft chandelier hanging above you glittering on your smooth skin. He feels it, you’re terrified, which makes him smirk just a bit, as you should know your place, under him, beneath him, perhaps he can handle you if you’ll be just a little docile. You are pleasing enough to look at.
Something familiar stirs when you look back at him, with eyes glimmering with unshed tears, your lower lip caught in your row of upper teeth. He remembers it like a fog, being at Jujutsu high with his best friends, right before he started to realize how horrible humans were, God he’d been so naive then. Your families introduced you two, but you were young.
He remembers thinking you were pretty, being just a little shy actually, which is so laughable now. You’d met Satoru then too, and he could swear you’d made eyes on him, on his old best friend who now is his enemy, which hurts Suguru in many, many ways, as having Satoru back on the right side, his side. There was no denying Satoru was the strongest, but Suguru was coming for him.
He smiles a bit as he thinks of it, and his pretty face looks terrifying for a moment, making your breath catch, as the priest begins the ceremony, and Suguru rips his eyes from you. You eye black gauged earrings, alone with some little barbell in his eyebrow, details that almost make him seem like a human, but you suppose those are just from long ago.
Suguru feels Manami’s long nails against his back, he turns and smirks at her, ignoring the pretty, but pathetic human in front of him. Manami and him have long hooked up together, though Suguru partakes in many women, she seems to be the main one by his side. Just this morning she’d sucked him off, he had not been in any sort of mood however to do more.
Knowing he’d have to fulfill his stupid duties were irritating him to know end, and no amount of sucking was fixing his shitty mood. He also sees the girls he truly sees as his real daughters, Mimiko and Nanako whispering about the bride just a bit. He errantly thinks he hears ‘pretty’ but he remembers how young they are, and what he keeps them a bit sheltered from still.
They didn’t know all of his plans yet, they were just girls still.
“You may kiss the bride.” Suguru hears errantly, he sighs, leaning down and pressing his lips against yours, hopefully the only time he’ll have to, but something literally jolts through his body as he does. He pulls back, glaring down at you, gripping your wrist, tiny in his massive grip, making you wince a bit, looking up at him with frightened eyes.
“Do you have any cursed energy!?” He demands, narrowing those intense eyes of his, you step back, shaking your head quickly.
“You know I do not. Why ask?” You whisper, he grabs your wrist even tighter, sensing every bit of your body, finding nothing. Why then, had he felt that!? Some odd shock through his system!?
He’d never kiss you again, it is quite annoying.
As the ceremony goes, and Suguru has many people around him, including some redhead you notice is all over him, you come across two little girls, who you’ve been informed are like daughters to Suguru. They both study you curiously, the little blond with pigtails smiling at you.
“You’re just a human, right?” She says, and you nod, shyly.
“Does it… suck to have no powers?” The little brunette says, and you sigh.
“Honestly, no. I don’t want all of that responsibility I guess? Do you all…” They both hold balls of energy, and you step back, heart racing as they giggle.
“Girls, not at the ceremony.” You’re almost shocked to hear him sound- kind, affectionate?- from across the room, chuckling a bit.
“Fine, dad.” They speak at the same time you notice, then they bombard you with more and more questions, while Suguru watches curiously, Manami murmuring things she’d do to him in his ear, as the other members start to dance. Someone dances with you, then, and Suguru…
Well he doesn’t fucking like it.
Why!? You’re nothing really.
When you’re finally done in the ceremony, and you’ve been dressed in some dainty little see through slip, you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, as they finally leave after slathering you in fragrant oil, brushing your hair till it gleamed. You eye yourself in the mirror nervously, seeing the color on your cheeks, the way your eyes look so… frightened really.
Being promised to Suguru meant being sheltered, and aside from making out and some touching when you could sneak out, you were indeed a virgin, and having your first time with a dude who wants to kill you just doesn’t sound fun. You sure wouldn’t let him see how afraid you were, not when he walks into the room, a goblet of wine in his hand, sighing and shutting the door.
You’re tense as he eyes your, thin transparent material showcasing your curves, the nip of your waist, the just of your hips, and most tantalizingly the swell of your breasts. His breath catches at just how good you do look, his cock twitching in response, irritating him to no end.
Perhaps this is just his stupid body’s response, but he does not get attracted to humans, they disgust him, even the pretty ones. But you are… exceptionally sexy right now, could it be all the wine, could it be that he saw you before he changed? Suguru shoves all those thoughts back, gulping down the rest of the red wine now, a drip falling from the corner, and you’re just standing there.
“Let’s get this over with.” He mumbles, and you glare then, making him smirk but also making his cock even more full of blood.
“Let’s, I don’t want this any more than you.” You mumble, unlacing the ribbons over your gown then, and he’s irritated at how bad his hands itch to take it off you, instead raising a brow.
“Oh I doubt that, at least you get to fuck me, someone with power. I am the one that has to fuck a pathetic monkey.” Your scowl deepens, as he unlaces his belt, letting his robes fall, and you see his perfect body, well formed pecs and cut abdomen, lines and swirls of tattoos all over his body, even on his corded arms.
You falter for only a moment, because his body is literally perfect, down to the trail of dark hair below his flat belly button, but you quickly shove all that out, ignoring the way your body is reacting to just seeing him. “Monkey, huh, is that what you call humans?”
“Sure is, pathetic monkeys, lesser developed and-” He pauses when your dress falls in a silky pool to your ankles, and you stand there naked fully, his heart dropping into his damn stomach.
His cock is leaking precum just staring at you, god you’re fucking beautiful, so beautiful he doesn’t think he can put a word to it. It’s as if his cock doesn’t recognize you’re some pathetic human, neither do hands that itch to touch, and his tongue that wants to just lick you.
Fuck you’re annoying.
Why are you built like this!? Your perfect tits alone are making him ache for you so badly he can hardly breathe, as they rise and fall with your own nervous breaths, and you look right at him, boldly. Suguru tries to avert his eyes, to play it off in any way, but he’s awestruck, lips parted, as he watches you cross your arms under those breasts, sees a hint of a pussy he wants to bury himself inside.
Fuck if you were just… if you just had some powers, he’d have so much fun with you, god he’d tell you how pretty you were. He’d make you cum on his mouth over and over, feel you gripping his long locks, but he can’t because you’re… you’re nothing, really, just a monkey… he has to remember.
You see red lining his perfect cheekbones, making you curious at him until he clears his throat, averting his eyes and releasing his hair, letting it cascade over broad shoulders. “Let’s just… get it done.” You murmur then, sitting on the futon now, decked with reds and golds in the luxurious room they had made for the two of you.
That’s when Suguru sees your perfect little pussy, making him bump into the side table, you blink a bit, curiously at him, thighs spread as you rest on your elbows. He cannot even function, you are so perfect he hates it, surely there is something about you, some energy they’re missing, there is no way that you’re a human, with such effects on him!?
He lets his pants fall as he tries to pull himself together, and that’s when you see him, rock hard and thick, far, far too many inches. You panic, wondering just how the fuck that’s gonna fit, you’d had fingers inside you that hurt a bit before, this was probably gonna wreck you. You almost shut your thighs, watching his reddened tip drool pearly drops of precum.
Sheltered but not stupid, he was clearly ready. You raise a brow. “You seem pretty… ready for such a monkey in front of you, hmm?”
Suguru glares now, grabbing you by the hair, cock near your face, you wonder if he’ll shove it in your mouth wildly, but he’s just pulling at your hair, making you gasp out in pain, as he tilts your head back. “Do you even know what to do, pathetic little fucking monkey!?”
“I haven’t before, no.” You whisper then, and he pauses, gulping down some horrible sense of guilt. Not only has he not been with a virgin, he knows he’s clearly not your choice for this.
What is it that's making him feel so much?
He hates it. He hates you.
Is it the fact that he can see you’re afraid, he lays with women who coo over him, who are soaking wet as he just smiles at them, women who drop to their knees if he snaps his fingers. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he shouldn’t care, right? What are humans to a sorcerer?
“I know you need an heir, so just… put it in me.” You say, he chuckles then, shaking his head as he shoves you back on the bed, bouncing just slightly when he rests over you on an elbow, sucking on two fingers then.
It’s so lewd, how his mouth wraps the thick digits, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks on them, before he sinks two right in your tight little cunt, making you gasp at the stretch, and making him exhale, holding back a moan. You’re so tight, clenching him, your gummy little walls convulsing, making him picture just how good you’ll feel around his cock.
“Do you have to!? Just get it in.” You whisper, and he glares down at you, lips parted at your utter lack of knowledge and insolent mouth.
“I can’t, you’re too tight, stupid monkey.” You glare and shove at his chest, only making him chuckle more. “You think I wanna prep or even touch you?”
“You think I w-want those or that in me!? No, just do it. Stop that… touching me inside… mnh!” At the sound of your own moan you cover your mouth, gasping as your eyes shoot up to his, he tilts his head, long silky hair falling like a curtain to the side of you both, as he presses on that spot again.
This time your eyes roll back, and he knows he’s found it, that spot in your pretty pussy that is just a little spongier, as your cunt starts drooling, and his cock has to press against the bed, for any pressure. Not only do you feel so good, so wet, you’re also fucking gorgeous as your head falls back, eyes fluttering shut, and he looks down at the mess you’re making.
“Messy little thing, tsk.” He says then, and you’re struggling to form a word when he puts his fingers back in, building pressure in your tummy that feels far too good, making you hate him more. “Hear her, huh? Monkey that excited?”
“D-don’t hear shit, don’t even l-like it.” You manage to utter out, and he’s smirking down at you, kissing down your breasts far too fondly, moaning as your walls are fluttering around his fingers, sucking a pretty, puffy nipple in his mouth. “Just fuck me, would you?”
“It will hurt you… I-” You pause, blinking as he leans up from licking and biting your breasts, little trails of saliva, as you look at him with wide eyes.
“What do you care, you don’t need me to like it to give me an heir. Just get it done so I can go to sleep.”
Your words hit him then, why does he care? Suguru could slaughter a village but can’t imagine fucking you without preparing you properly, fuck he wanted you to like it, to want him. And why!?
“You won’t be able to take me, tiny pathetic little cunt can’t.” You scowl as he sucks on a nipple again, scissoring his fingers in your cunt now, making lewd squishing sounds as you feel you’re soaked, mortifying you.
“Stop sucking on them, you don’t need to.” You shove him again, and he glares, leaning over you now, intimidating as he curls slick fingers, making you gasp in pleasure, biting your lower lip hard so you don’t scream out how good it is.
“If I must breed you, I’ll do it how I wish to. Stop acting as if you can tell me what to do.”
“I hate you.” You smack him then, earning a psychotic glare, and you realize fuck you’ve messed up, as he takes his fingers out of your pussy and shoves them right in your mouth, making you choke on them.
“Will you shut up, stupid monkey, fuck.” He’s then lining up his cock with your entrance, shoving your thighs up high. “Fine then, wanna get it over with, huh?”
You nod eagerly, hating every second under him, even if your body betrayed you. “Sure do, fucking psycho.”
“Psycho, huh?” You nod again, then gasp in pain as he fills you, stuffing your cunt full in one stroke, making it burn even though you are soaked and prepared somewhat, nothing could really prepare for his huge cock inside you.
“Ah!” You blink back tears, tears that bother him, and they shouldn’t, but now he wants to tenderly brush back your hair, that’s fallen on your brow. He wants to pull back out and prep you more, but you’re an insolent brat who won’t even let him, and he shouldn’t want to.
But your pussy gripping him drives him insane, to the point he could cum in a stroke or two, it’s gripping that fucking good. He can’t take it, he rests his head in the crook of your neck, so you don’t see an already pussy drunk face when he pulls back, shoving his cock even deeper, and feels your nails in his back, digging, hears your little cries of pain.
He wants cries of pleasure.
What the fuck are you doing to him!?
Is it human to have a pussy like this, he wonders, biting back a moan and leaning up, grabbing at one of your thighs to sink deeper, and you hate that it starts to feel good, when he starts fucking into you. Thick cock stretching, as your cunt gushes around him, his tip dragging on some spot that makes your eyes roll back again in pleasure, and this fucker notices.
“She’s fuckin’ soaking my cock, huh? Like it, pathetic little monkey, a sorcerer over you?” You manage to glare, shaking your head, his attractive smirk widening, as he fucks you deeper and harder, and you’re a tremblind mess under him. “Oh no, you don’t hmm?”
“N-no, hate it. Hate you.” He scowls now, as you gulp down moans and cries he’s dying to hear, so he pays attention, to when you’re gasping, clamping down, realizing the spot and angle you’re dying over, so Suguru grins down at you, lifting your thighs up so high he slams your cervix. “Ah!”
“There it is.” He whispers to himself, pressing on the backs of your thighs and slamming your cervix, over and over, as you’re moaning so sexy, your back arching, while he’s folding you damn near in half now. “F-fuck… you feel so…” He stops himself, he can’t say that.
It feels so perfect.
Feels like you’re made to take his cock.
You’re so pretty under him, perspiration on your forehead, eyebrows scrunched, lips red from you biting them, your eyes glazed over. God you’re gorgeous, as his cock is throbbing inside your tight walls, and you’re struggling so hard to act like you hate it, when he’s hitting that spot over and over, his tip dragging on it again and again. You moan out loud, whining when he rolls his hips bottoming out.
“J-just cum, finish it. W-wanna be d-done.” You whisper, he glares now at you.
“Not enjoying it at all?”
“Hate it. B-boring.” Suguru laughs now, shaking his head, slamming into you, and you’re screaming out, convulsing, feeling pressure build and build, realizing with a panic then.
You’re gonna cum.
Not for him, dammit!
You struggle to hold back, shaking your head and covering your face, when he lets your thighs fall to the side, yanking your hands off your face, pinning your wrists above your head with a strong hand, long fingers wrapping your delicate wrists like they’re nothing. You gasp at it, as his other hand yanks you by your hip, slamming you down his length.
“I’ll look upon your face.” He says through his teeth, dying to watch it when you cum, and fuck he feels it, you’re so close. He wants it then, he needs it, you to cum all over him, milking him so good, and your eyes go wide in shock, but they’re already so fucked out. He’s leaking precum inside you, dragging on that spot and watching you unravel for him.
“Why do y-you wanna- mnh, f-fuck!” You’re clinging to the sheets, when Suguru would like you to cling to him, as he sends you over the fucking edge, and he watches your gorgeous face screw up in pleasure, making his cock pulse.
Fuck you’re pretty.
Fuck he hates you for doing this.
He’s never even felt anything better than this.
“Can’t help yourself, huh monkey? Gonna cum all over my cock, aren’t you?” He whispers, you shake your head, still pinned under him, and he lays over you, grinding his cock inside you, dark hair on his pelvis just pressing on your neglected clitoris, then you feel it, and he moans. “There it is.”
“No, no, no… f-fuck you… hate… ah!” You’re shattering, cumming so hard you can’t even see, all while this psycho watches avidly, and you hate him more for it, for giving you this orgasm that almost makes you faint. “Sh-shit… mnh…”
Your cunt soaks his cock as the orgasm wrecks your brain, as you’re convulsing around his thick veiny cock, with its tip pressing into your cervix, and you’re twitching under him, pathetic. You gasp as he fucks you through it, disoriented and blinking rapidly at how euphoric you feel, listening to the grunts and groans of his and the squelching of your cunt.
“Oh my… f-fuck…” Suguru groans now, unable to hold back any longer, violet eyes so dilated they look black as they drink in your face, lips hovering over yours, cock fucking harder and harder.
You almost cum again, clenching around him, as he moves over you, stuttering in his rhythm finally, faltering just a bit, gripping you tightly as he moans out, his breath hot against your lips, lips he wants to kiss, a mouth he wants to spit inside, tongue he wants to feel on his skin. You’re maddening, he realizes then, as he gets closer to his release, his cock throbbing at your pussy milking him so good.
“Mnh… shit I hate… you…” You whisper, as you’re cumming again, and he grips your wrists so hard they’ve gone numb, starting to pump hot loads of cum inside, you, groaning out loud at how good it feels.
“Milking me, shit… f-feels so fucking perf-” Suguru holds it back, luckily you’re too fucked out to care, as his cum fills you, so hot and gooey, and you’re both gasping for breaths, the room quiet save front he sounds of his cock slipping inside you, and your hearts pounding. “Filled you so fucking good, monkey, hmm?”
“G-good, it’s over…” You whisper, damn near delirious as your aftershocks make your sticky walls grip him, he gasps at it, pumping even more, as he looks into your eyes, feeling too much.
“Y-yes. Over.” He manages to spill out, and you whimper when he kisses your neck, something he shouldn’t indulge in, easing off your wrists and looking at them, his hand left prints clearly.
You ease them down, fingers wresting on his shoulders for a moment, a moment that feels too good, too natural, before you press on him. “Can you go, then?”
“What?” He blinks in confusion, cock still inside of you, fuck he never even wants to leave, so hot and wet and-
“Your seed is inside me, we should be good for now. I’m… sore. Please get off of me.” You look away now, and Suguru’s pulse races, as you refuse to look at him whatsoever when he gets off, easing his cock out of you with a messy pop sound, tensing as he sees the evidence of your innocence between your thighs.
“Let me clean you up.” He murmurs, and you glare, shaking your head and closing your legs then. “Would you just-”
“Fuck you, get out. I don’t need you cleaning me up, we’re good until… I guess whenever we have to do this again.” You stand on wobbly legs, as Suguru stands, looming over you as you head to the shower adjoining the room, grabbing you by the top of your arm. “What!?”
“So eager to run off, monkey? You should thank me.”
You laugh then, ignoring the throb of your pussy and the pounding in your head, fuck him he felt so good in you, you’ve never even felt that good before, not from little orgasms you gave yourself. You hate him more for it, not only did your first time have to be with this ass of a man, a psycho killer, you also came when you didn’t even want to, making it all worse/
“Thank you!? For what!”
“For cumming inside you.” He presses you against the wall then, looming over you so tall, his sweet breath like the grapes of the wine as he grabs your chin, forcing your eyes on his. “For making a monkey like you cum.”
“You didn’t make me cum, stupid psycho.” You glare right at him, chest heaving as you speak the lies, but he laughs right down at you, thumb brushing over a lip with teeth indentations from how hard you bit it.
“Didn’t cum? You’re a fucking liar, on top of being pathetic. Useless.”
“Useless, yes except to have your stupid heir. I can’t wait to get pregnant, actually, so I’ll never have to get touched again.”
“Oh yeah, so fucking horrible?”
“Terrible.”
“And you’re disgusting to me.”
“Good!” You shove at his strong chest, slick with sweat, and pause there then, as does he, a hand now entwined at the nape of your neck, as he dies to kiss you, brutally, over and over, but he just holds you there. “Am I done for the night Lord Geto, or whatever the fuck you like to be called?”
He’d like you to scream Suguru.
Fuck.
“Will you just let me clean you up, it was your first time and-”
“Oh no, you’re not gonna play like you care at all. We did what we had to do, what we both had to do, neither of us wanted it, or enjoyed it. Right?” You demand then, raising a brow, and he scowls.
“Not right, and I’m just-”
“I remember it, meeting you, you were… sweet.”
He laughs then. “What?”
“You were, and him? I’d have been happy to do this, but you? I don’t wanna look at you and think of it. Let me go.” He scowls as he goes to grab his clothes now, and you lean against the wall, covering your face, not wanting him to see just how you are affected by him.
“I’ll be putting a curse at your door, to make sure you don’t run.” He says then, making you blink in shock, seeing he’s dressed finally, putting his hair back up.
“I have nowhere to run to.” He pauses at that, jaw locked. “But go ahead, maybe it’ll be better company than you.”
Suguru scoffs. “Clean up.”
“Get out.” You order, finally he turns, walking out, leaving you to step into the shower, letting the hot spray hit you, sore in places you’ve never imagined, thinking just how much you hate him.
You’re sobbing then, under the coverage of the shower, where no one would see you, see what he’s done to you, your mental state in ruins. You scrub everywhere his elegant fingers touched, everywhere his lush lips kissed, hissing when you wash your sore pussy, looking down at your fingers, finding his cum pouring out of you. Hot, sticky white cum washed by the shower.
Steam fills as you slide down to sit in the shower, resting your head on your knees, hating him so much you can barely breathe. Bad enough he fucked you, why did he have to make you enjoy it, why did he act like he cared for your pleasure, cared for you after even? A lie, all a lie, and it’s the last thing you need. 
You will hate him.
Outside your room, Suguru leans his back against your door, trying to catch his breath, head swirling with you, hands shaking as they brush back his hair. You have him shaking, you annoying, stupid brat of a girl, who wouldn’t even let him try to care for you, at all.
Why’d he want to though? You were right, your duty was fulfilled for the night, he should stop thinking of how he’d love to be in that shower with you, how he’s dying to be back inside you, imagining making you admit how good it felt. He could feel your slick on his cock still, wondering if you feel him pouring out of you, dying to breed you again, again, again.
He detests you.
Summoning a curse, a rather derpy looking one shaped like a bull with several eyes, he plops him next to your door now, this is a docile curse he’s had since his youth, bringing back too many memories. Of being happy, of laughing, of a girl named Riko, right before he’d snapped, her riding this curse on its back as they tried their best to save her.
It proved how disgusting humans were that day, lest he ever forget, his fist clenched as he struggles to gain his resolve, looking down at the creature now. “Guard this door.” It nods, tongue lolling out, Suguru sighs then. “Also make sure you… care for the girl in this room. Yes?”
It nods again, as Suguru does not know if you are safe really, surely no one would go against him, but there is much hatred already for humans, and many, many people hate you. But he wants you to be safe, otherwise he’ll just get another bride thrown on him, and who knows if he’d hate her more.
Suguru ends up in his room now, sighing as he sees Manami there with another woman from his cult, he shakes his head as they try to disrobe him. “No, I am not in any sort of mood for it.”
“But Suguru, it must've been awful.” Manami cooes, and the other girl nods, as they rub up and down his arms, making him feel disgusted.
How?
How do they, powerful women, make him disgusted now? He owes you no loyalty, he did not plan to only be with you, but the thought of anyone but you actually makes him sick. What sort of witchcraft do you possess, some new undetectable kind that he hasn’t figured out, to make him feel like this? Are you some weapon to destroy his fucking plans?
“Go. Now.” Suguru orders then, and they pout as they leave, but Suguru can’t get his mind off you, not when he’s washing you off in the shower, every vivid thought of making you enjoy it fills his mind.
Suguru hates you more when he’s stroking his cock to the thought of you whimpering, begging for him, on your knees with your tongue out. He’s moaning as he pinches his tip, he already came so much but he can’t stop how hard he is, thinking of how your eyes would cross as he fucked your throat, as he came so deep and you swallowed him greedy.
Thinking of you riding him, your tits bouncing right in his face, your thighs squeezing his face as he lapped his cup out of your pussy after. ‘F-fuck, you like it, don’t you’ he’s muttering, wet hair sticking to his back as water pounds down, and he’s stroking his cock faster and faster, eyes shutting, vivid pictures of you everywhere.
‘That’s it, good girl, cumming just for me, mine, aren’t you’ he’s stuttering, saying stupid insane shit, so high off your pussy he can’t even talk himself out of it, not when his big hand strokes his thick shaft over and over.
When Suguru cums again he moans out loud, hunching over and gasping for a breath, hating you more for what you’ve done when his sticky cum pours all out of his hand now. He rinses himself off, shaking his head and covering it with his other hand, realizing jerking off was nothing like cumming inside you, like fucking your perfect little pussy.
Just who the fuck are you?
******
The next day of being Suguru’s wife, you open the door and gasp, seeing some bull shaped creature who’s grinning at you, several eyes wide open as it licks your leg, making you squeak. “What!?”
“He likes you.” Comes Mimiko’s voice, she’s poking around on her phone, and you take a breath, smiling a bit.
Just because Suguru is a psychotic dick, it doesn’t mean you’d take it out on little girls, or oddly cute curses. “Can I pet it?” You ask, and Nanako giggles next to her sister, stepping closer.
“He’s docile.” She pets him then, and the thing damn near purrs, you bend down on your knees now, petting him yourself, sighing.
“He’s kinda cute?” They burst out in laughter, leaving the hall then, as you find the first bit of comfort in one of stupid, psycho Suguru’s curses. “You like me?”
He nods, licking on your cheek, you swipe at it, wincing as it runs off, and suddenly Suguru Geto is standing right in front of you, as you’re just on your knees still, looking up at him. Vivid insane thoughts fill you, as you feel your tummy clench, pussy so sore from him still, thinking of the dreams you’d had of this ass of a man, and now you’re just… there.
He freezes when he sees your hair fall back, loose and flowing, shimmering likely from your shower, and you’re right where he pictured you, what he jerked himself to over and over. The urge to pull out his cock and fuck your pretty face was overwhelming, driving him so insane his cock responds violently, already leaking precum, annoying him to no end.
He’d turned down more women this morning, because now he’s coming to a really annoying realization- he wants you. Only you. He’s blaming his stupid body, for wanting a petty human, but it’s undeniable, while you just blink and look up for a moment, before you clear your throat, standing and grabbing the door way, looking away now.
“Where’d the curse go? I like him.”
“You like him!?”
“Better than you, I was right. He’s cuter.” You smile then, and he glares, grabbing you right by your throat, only making you laugh.
“Who’s the psycho here, me or you?” He whispers, and you grip his wrist now, as he looks how pretty your neck is with his hand around it, as he looks at glossy lips he wants to kiss.
“Gonna kill me before the heir?” You whisper, when he squeezes just so.
“Tempting to do so.” He whispers against your lips, and you come to a very annoying realization of your own, when your nipples tighten, when your pussy drips from him choking you.
You want this psycho.
Just your body, you’ll just blame that, but it’s undeniable, and it makes you despise him more. “Go for it, put me outta my misery. Won’t have to look at you.” You say, he squeezes harder, stepping a little further in the room, as you feel lightheaded, and fucking horny.
What’s wrong with you!?
“Why don’t we work harder on making it happen then?”
“Now!?” You demand, and he shuts the door, smirking, undoing his black robes as you rub your sore neck.
“Now.”
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Taglist open for parts two and three if you're not on it already <3 Hope you enjoyed this, I know Geto doesn't hit like my Gojo or Sukuna posts, but I rly tried lol. Can't wait to see what ya'll think!
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lovelivision · 1 day ago
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‎‎‎‎THE PRACTICE OF KISSING .𖥔 ݁ ˖
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‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎𐔌.pairing — geto suguru / reader
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎── word count: 10k
✿ summary... after getting asked on a date you feel insecure over your inexperience regarding kissing someone. telling your bestfriend geto about your concerns results in an offer from him you didn't expect
warnings.ᐟ ── 18+ only, smut, pwp, swearing, making out, dry humping, dirty talk, hickeys, biting, (light) nipple play, praise kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, orgasm denial (once), bsf!geto, virgin!reader, return of tease!geto, afab!reader, no use of pronouns !!
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The state of your mind is currently a mess, feeling overwhelmed and staring off into space as you think about how a guy asked you on a date earlier today. You'd turned him down but only because you have a particular hang up you can't get over, hence the feeling overwhelmed. You’ve never gone out on a date before and you feel like you’re missing out, so you definitely would’ve said yes if you weren’t so unsure of yourself.
Geto's hand waves in front of your face, breaking you from your trance, "Are you even listening to me?"
Has he been talking? Damn, you really spaced out, "Would you believe me if I said yes?"
"Not even a little bit," his gaze unamused.
You look away from him and to the poster behind his head on the wall, feeling sheepish, "Then no... sorry."
His frown deepens, legs uncrossing and scooting closer to the edge of his bed, "What are you thinking about so hard?"
"Not telling," you answer, spinning around in his office chair so that you’re facing away from him.
His desk is neat, everything organised and probably put exactly where it should be. Beside his monitor sits a little black cat figurine, one you had bought him not too long ago because it reminded you of him. Seeing it displayed makes you smile; he must like it.
Geto’s voice cuts through your small reverie, "So, you're not only going to ignore me, you're also not going to tell me what's wrong?"
Not even glancing back, you hum at him, "That would be a correct assessment... yes."
"Have I told you that you're annoying yet today?" He exasperates.
Shrugging, "I don't think so?"
"Oh? In that case, you're annoying."
"You're so mean to me; this is why I don't want to tell you what's wrong," you’re being dramatic but so is he.
A sigh leaves him, "If I promise to be nice will you tell me what's wrong?"
Your head flops onto the chairs headrest, jabbing at him jokingly, "I don't know if you're capable of kindness, Suguru."
"Now who's being mean? I'm nice all the time."
"Maybe to strangers..." You mumble out.
There’s no reply from him and for a second you think he’s going to leave the issue alone… that is until you’re suddenly spinning. His footsteps are always so light, you didn’t even hear him come up behind you. You’re facing him now, his hands holding himself up by the arm rests of his office chair. He’d spun you around just to lean down into your space and pointedly look at you.
Geto squints, “I’m nice to you all the time.”
“I don’t think this constitutes as ‘nice’.”
He groans your name, “Come on, you always talk to me when something’s wrong.”
“Maybe this is awkward for me to talk to you about,” you pout back at him.
His tongue clicks in realisation, “So, it’s about your love life?”
The immediate correct guess stumps you, causing you to sputter out, “What!? You have no way of–”
“–You never talk to me about your dates and you also got defensive so I’m guessing I’m right,” his gaze is even, unconcerned.
You huff at him and echo his earlier question, “Have I told you that you’re annoying yet today?”
“Yes, earlier when you almost fell over and I smiled,” he reminds.
Your response is a grimace and a matter-of-fact tone when saying, “I don’t tell you about my dates because I don’t go on them.”
“Ever?” Geto’s eyes widen slightly, clearly surprised by your confession.
Cementing back, “Ever.”
“People have definitely asked you out though.”
“Yeah but not that often because they always think we’re together,” you glare back at him.
A hand reaches for your face and squishes your cheeks between his fingers, “Don’t look at me like that, that’s not my fault.”
Your voice comes out all mumbled and difficult to understand, “It so is.” He rolls his eyes at you and you slap his hand away, “Stop squishing my face!”
Letting go, he sighs and takes a step back, sitting on the edge of the bed again, “Something about your love life is bothering you.”
Crossing your arms over your chest and looking to the side, you complain, “You’re so nosy.”
“Am not.”
What a liar, he’s always in your business. Though, now that you’re thinking about it, you don’t think he’s usually in other people’s business this bad. He does like hearing about the gossip you collect though, always ready to hear it while acting as though he doesn’t care.
There’s no reply you can think to give, so you give him the silent treatment. Still looking away from him and silently pouting, you can feel his eyes watching you, waiting for you to break. It’s a frequent game you start that he finishes, silently ignoring him while he watches and waits until you can’t take it anymore and tell him what’s on your mind.
A few more moments pass by and you already feel ready to give in, you hate how much more effective his silence is. Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, your gazes meet and you feel yourself folding all at once.
Large and exasperated groan leaving you as your shoulders slump back into the chair, “Fine!”
He perks up at your concession, a self-satisfied look on his face that irks you.
Looking at him properly to say, “I was asked on a date earlier today.”
The expression on his face changes to one of annoyance, like he’s not happy to hear that, “Who?”
“Some guy, you don’t know him,” you wave off, not really understanding why it matters to him.
Geto prods for more information, “…And what did you say?”
“…I said no.”
“Oh?” His reaction is indecipherable to you, “Why?”
This question is exactly why you didn’t want to talk about this, “I don’t know…” You’re lying, trying to avoid talking about this in more depth.
“Did you like him?”
“I didn’t not like him,” you shrug, “I would’ve liked to go out with him at least once but…”
“But…” He pushes.
“I don’t know, Suguru,” you scowl at your own reasoning, “I’ve never been on a proper date before, I don’t know what to expect or what’s expected of me. What if he wanted to kiss me or something?”
He’s quiet for a long moment, making you antsy while you wait for him to talk, “…Would you want to kiss him back?”
“Maybe?”
“I don’t think I’m understanding the issue,” his brows are pinched with his confusion.
You’re exhausted with him, like you aren’t the one being purposefully cryptic, “Am I gonna have to spell it out for you?”
“Yes.”
“Ugh!” You kick your legs in a mini tantrum, “I’ve never properly kissed someone… it’s always been like… a peck, I don’t know? But what if he expected more of me?”
You can see the way he’s actively fighting against the smile threatening to break out on his face, “Is that–” he bites down an amused sound, “Is that why you always say no to dates?”
“I don’t like you very much right now,” you were already feeling silly and embarrassed and his clear joy from this is not helping that.
He pouts at you mockingly, “Don’t be like that, I can help.”
“How could you possibly help me with this?”
A smile comfortable on his face when he states, “I could teach you.”
“You want to teach me how to kiss?” You scrutinise him, “Have you gone insane?”
“You’re the one all hung up on this and I’m offering to help you,” he puts his hands up, “But if you’d rather be a dateless loser for the rest of your life–”
“–Hey!” You point at him, “Uncalled for… and rude!”
A very signature and very annoying, polite smile sits on his pretty features. Unbothered by your outburst at his very clear bait. He simply raises his arm and grabs the hand you had pointed at him, tugging you from the chair and into him on the bed. You’re taken aback by his bold move, so close to him so quickly. Falling into his lap less than gracefully, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you steady as you sit sideways between his legs.
You stutter out at him, “Wha– what are you doing?”
Letting go of your hand; he reaches for your face. His thumb stroking softly against your cheekbone, “Do you want my help or not?”
“What you’re basically asking me is if I want to kiss you,” you correct… because that is what he’s asking right now.
Geto’s head drops back slightly as he fights the urge to roll his eyes at you dramatically, hand resting on your outer thigh now, “Don’t be so pedantic. You have a problem and I’m offering to help fix it.”
A sound of disapproval slips from you at his wording, “I know the theory behind kissing someone, Suguru. What you’re offering is making out with me.”
“So?”
Your expression is dumbfounded, you know he’s not this dense, “You want to stick your tongue in my mouth and then go back to the usual?”
He leans in again, dodging your question with his own, “Do you want me to stick my tongue in your mouth?”
“Geto–”
“–Ouch–”
“–Shut up.” You cut him off, “If! We did this and I do mean if. Would you be able to look at me the same?”
“The same as I always have? Sure,” there’s no hesitation from him.
He seems so sure, like he’s not worried about what this might mean for your friendship at all. The easy-going look on his face is both pissing you off and relaxing you, emotions he’s always been able to pull from you.
His hand is large on your thigh and the way it makes you feel is not how you should feel for him. Mumbling out a small, “You’re annoying.”
An amused breath leaves him, “You’ve already told me that today.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you look up at him through your lashes.
“That’s kind of the point of this.”
“Right…” You can’t help but find yourself feeling nervous, embarrassed that you won’t be good enough. For some reason… you really want him to think you’re a good kisser.
He must take your silence as rejection because his tone is gentle when he says, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I know, I just…” You frown while looking at him, trying to figure out exactly what steps to take next, “I don’t know what to do now…” Geto’s face relaxes and a smile replaces his concern causing you to chastise him, “Don’t smile, it’s not funny!”
“No,” he agrees, “But it is a little cute.”
“Whatever, can we just kiss now?”
“Desperate?” He asks teasingly.
You deny it, “I just want you to stop talking.”
“Sure.” It’s all dragged out and has a teasing lilt to it. Damn him and his need to have the last word. You don’t reply to that and instead try to shuffle off him, thinking sitting like this would be awkward. His hold becomes firmer on you, “What are you doing?”
You’re confused, “Isn’t this position weird?”
“Makes it easier,” is all he says in reply.
Being sat between his spread legs, your own draping over one of them while he holds you doesn’t seem ideal. To you, this couldn’t be a more awkward position to be in for this. Instead of telling him that though, you settle back, “Alright…”
When you look back up at him properly, he’s already looking at you. There’s a funny feeling that runs through you at the look in his eyes. The hand on your thigh moves to your face again, cradling you as he leans in. Murmuring a soft, “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”
Just as he’s about to move all the way in, your hand covers his mouth, “Wait.” You stop him, your nerves getting the better of you, “What if… what if you don’t like kissing me?” He looks a little frustrated so you pull your hand away, giving him a chance to speak.
“Do you want me to like kissing you?”
You feel flustered by his question, “Why do you always answer my questions with a question?”
“Because your questions are interesting…” he pauses, “…And also, I like teasing you.”
“If you answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”
“Fine,” he indulges you, “I’m not gonna dislike kissing you so your question is dumb.”
“But you can’t know–”
He tuts you, interrupting what you were saying, “–You gotta answer my question now.”
You groan at him, “Well… yeah.”
“‘Yeah’ what?”
He’s such a smug bastard, “Yeah! Yeah I want you to like kissing me, Suguru.”
You’re huffy but he seems so pleased by your response. A serene and happy look on his face despite the tone you used. You find yourself waiting for him to say something more, something to tease you further but he doesn’t. He simply leans in again, taking you by surprise when his lips are softly pressing to yours. It’s short and sweet, more akin to a peck than anything else. Continuing to plant gentle kisses to your lips until you return them and then he lets them linger.
The feelings that run through you have you all tingly and hot, kissing your best friend for practice probably shouldn’t feel this good… right? You still don’t really know what you’re doing though, more just letting him kiss you than anything. When you part again, you murmur, “Suguru, I still don’t know what I’m meant to be doing.”
“Just follow my lead,” his eyes stay on your lips, now shiny from the shared kisses, “That’s all you gotta do.”
“But–”
His eyes roll when you go to argue more, “–Stop thinking so hard about it and let me kiss you.”
You can’t help but squirm slightly at that, “Okay.”
Satisfaction rolls off him in waves but thankfully for you he doesn’t comment any further, choosing to kiss you again. Instinctually, your hand reaches for his chest and grips onto his shirt, you need something to ground you.
Geto is taking this slow, he’s trying his best to be patient to savour this moment with you. He doesn’t want to push you too far too soon and have you stop whatever this is. If he were more sure of himself and where he stands with you, he’d have just asked you out like a sane person but he’s not sure and he didn’t want to pass on this opportunity.
He can feel this becoming something he covets, your soft lips on his, uncertain in your movements but so ready to be kissed by him. His heart pulls with a kind of possessiveness that’s not completely unfamiliar to him regarding you. The desire to not want anyone else to ever have this side of you overwhelming him.
It’s addictive, his kisses, his hold on you… him. You can feel yourself falling into him more, the longer you do this dance. You want more, you want him to kiss you more but you have no idea how to ask for that. Following his lead is good, it’s helpful but it’s starting to feel like he’s depriving you.
Pulling back, you force yourself to voice, “I want more…”
“Do you know what you’re asking for?” He sounds strained.
“You said you would teach me,” you remind. “So, teach me.”
His thumb presses into your jaw, “Open your mouth more then.”
Doing as he asks; he angles you just slightly before pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss fuller, his tongue licking into your mouth. It has a shiver running down your spine, the sensation new and mind numbing. It’s messier than before and so much more dizzying, you can’t even really keep up with his movements. Just letting him kiss you to his hearts content, feeling yourself getting drunk on his lips in the process.
You can’t even be sure if you’re doing this right but it doesn’t really feel like it matters, not when you’re this lost in it. Lips gliding against his, a small involuntary sound pulling from your chest at how he grips you tighter. Feeling like he gets impossibly closer, his kisses growing desperate the moment you whine into him.
Geto’s restraint is wearing thin, his desire for you growing tenfold at how you moan for him. He wants to touch you so much more, to put his hands on every part of you. The fear of ruining this moment keeps his hands planted firmly to your hip and cheek though and it’s killing him to not touch you more, more, more.
When you tentatively lick against his tongue he almost all but folds in that single moment, he feels so pathetically weak for you. So unsure of yourself and still trying to kiss him just as deeply as he is you. A guttural groan leaves him, a sound he’d be almost ashamed of if he didn’t notice the way you squirm at it.
You pull back from him and he can’t help but chase your lips, he doesn’t want to stop. An amused breath leaves you, “Hold on.”
He doesn’t understand what you need a moment for until you’re pulling his hands from you and moving to straddle him.  Your thighs resting beside him, he feels dizzy with need, the need to touch you, to undress you. To have you naked and straddling his lap just like this could make his whole year. His hands are on your hips, tugging you up his lap just slightly further, encouraging.
Going to sit on him, you notice his erection and gasp. Heat rising to your face, suddenly so conscious of how heated this exchange has gotten, “Maybe we should stop…”
It’s almost like it hurts him to hear those words, “Do you want to stop?”
You wish you weren’t so certain, so quick to immediately know that, “… No, I don’t.”
“That’s good…” he smiles, “Cause I’m not done teaching yet.”
And then you’re kissing again, wet and sloppy. He’s holding back less, depraved in how he sucks your tongue into his mouth, bolder now. Revelling in every twitch you make against him, every mumbled whine you let out.
Mindlessly, your hips lightly roll downwards and his resulting grip holds you so still against him. A debauched moan leaving him at your unexpected movements, parting his mouth from yours with it. Geto’s head tucks into your chest, controlling his breathing, like he might snap at any moment.
You feel a little frantic, like you might’ve hurt him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“–Don’t– fuck– don’t apologise,” he can feel how warm you are through your pants and it’s making him feel feral.
Your fingers run through his hair, to comfort him, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” He huffs an unamused sound, “The only thing hurting me is how badly I wanna stuff you full.”
“Sugu–”
“–I know you can feel just how hard I am,” he pulls his head back to look at you, eyes blown wide and dark, “I’m practically aching for you.”
Your heart stutters in your chest, “Suguru… are you some kind of closeted perv?”
The question makes him laugh, “Wanna find out?”
“You were only supposed to teach me how to kiss…”
“Mhm, and you’re doing great,” his nose traces along your neck, inhaling you, “I still have so much more knowledge to give though.”
“Don’t be so– hah!” He licks at your skin before latching his mouth to the side of your throat, the pressure making you fidget in his lap. You feel so sensitive, so much more than what you thought you would.
When Geto pulls back from the mark he’s made, he blows softly on it, enjoying the way you shudder on top of him. “‘Don’t be so’ what?”
That’s right you were going to say something, he looks really nice right now though… eyes lidded and cheeks just slightly pink, lips slick. What were you going to say to him? His grin only grows, taking satisfaction in your glazed eyes and struggle to think. Averting your gaze, you try to remember what you wanted to say. The break in eye contact short lived since he grabs your chin and pulls you back.
“Come on, pretty, what were you gonna say?”
The effect he’s having on you is becoming too much, “I was gonna tell you to not be so depraved!”
“Hmm…” His head quirks at you, “You seem to like it though?”
How presumptuous of him, “You can’t know that!”
“You know… the human body is really interesting, for example…” he looks down to where you’re sitting over his prominent erection, “You’re so incredibly hot against me that I feel like I’m going insane,” smiling back up at you evilly, “Just how wet are you?”
The possibility of fainting is very real all of a sudden, his question has you hot everywhere. “I jus– I just told you to not be so depraved.”
“Yeah and I ignored you,” he deadpans, ignoring your indignant sounds. “Do you want me to stop?”
Again, you hate how badly you don’t want to stop. Right now, you think you’d let him do just about whatever he wanted to you. “Promise not to tease me later?”
“You know I can’t promise that.”
You pout back at him, “Then I’m not gonna say what I was thinking.”
His curiosity is sufficiently piqued, “Fine, I promise to try not to tease you later.”
“That’s not good enough.”
He tries again, “I promise.” You both stay looking at one another for a moment before he adds, “That’s as good as you’re getting.” And you know it to be true.
How to say this without embarrassing yourself, “You can… you can touch me… however you want, Suguru…”
He feels like he’s gone into shock, “What?”
“Did you not hear me?”
“No… I heard you,” he can’t help the way his cock jumps in excitement, “I’m just double checking I heard you right.” He leans in to taunt, “You’re gonna let me touch you however I want?”
“You said you had more knowledge to share,” It’s a dangerous game that you’re both playing.
He breathes out, “And if I wanna touch you in a depraved manner?”
So certain in yourself when you reply, “I want to be touched in a depraved manner… by you.”
Ah, so you’re trying to kill him, is the conclusion that Geto has come to. A breathless laugh leaves him, “For practice?”
“Sure,” you give him the answer you think he wants, in reality you just want to desperately be touched by him. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life and it’s all his fault.
An amused sound leaves him, “Hah– Don’t know if I believe your answer there…” his hands are on your hips, slowly dragging you over his dick. Biting his lip at the feeling, cock jumping when your breath stutters.
“Wait– wait,” your hands hold onto his and he stops moving you. Realising now that he might’ve gotten carried away, that he should’ve double checked again.
When you get off his lap and onto shaky legs Geto feels his heart drop, only for it to suddenly pick up speed when you’re shuffling your pants down and off. Crawling back onto him in your panties, he – shamefully – has to put so much focus into keeping calm, so worked up he could cum from this alone.
“Yeah…” you murmur back at him, placing yourself right over his erection again, gasping at how hard he is, at how much more you can feel even through the layers left on, “I lied just now.”
He wants to ask more; he wants to know what you lied about but if he thought you were hot before then he’s melting now. You’re sitting on his dick in the cutest little panties, already so drenched from making out with him that the affection he feels for you fills up his chest. He’s way too distracted right now to ask what he wants.
“Be honest,” it feels like a chore to rip his gaze away from your pussy, “Are you trying to kill me?”
Geto’s eyes are all glassy and blown, cheeks flushed as he implores you, like he’s worried you’re actually trying to kill him. He’s making you feel shy, “It’s your fault I’m acting like this.”
That has him feeling a little prideful, “Is that so?”
“Mhm,” you confirm.
“In that case,” he’s slowly dragging your heated core over his erection again, “Should I fix it?”
You nod your head at him, “…Yeah”
The shivers that run through you make you gasp, the drag over Geto’s dick feeling so much better without your pants on. And yet you can’t help but feel so greedy, a kind of need in your bones that you’ve not experienced before.
He takes his hands away from your hips and you stop moving, whining pathetically at him, “Why–”
“–Keep doing it yourself,” he encourages.
“But–”
“Just do it how it feels good, use me for a bit,” he grins, “I wanna watch you pleasure yourself on me.”
“You really are a perv,” you mutter back at him.
His retort is quick, “Say that to me when your pussy’s not drooling all over my pants.”
Your cunt jumps at his words, “Are you gonna be this crude the whole time?”
“I can be worse if you want?”
“I can’t stand you.”
“We both know that’s not true,” he looks pointedly down to where your cunt is pulsing hot against him. “Now do us both a favour and move,” he hisses out through clenched teeth, apparently nearing his limit.
“You’re so bossy,” you frown, “I’ve never…” You’re at a loss for how to phrase it.
“Dry humped someone before?” He finishes for you, “Though with how wet you are–”
“Shh!” You cover his mouth with your palm, “Stop… talking about how wet I am.”
He pulls your hand away, “You know, I’m not surprised you’ve never–”
“–You don’t have to say it again,” you cut him off.
He rolls his eyes, “You hadn’t even made out with someone, I’m just saying that I didn’t ask you to use me without knowing.” He holds the side of your face gently, “Stop worrying about it so much, I know already… that you’re a huge virgin.”
His gentle touch greatly contrasts his teasing words. He’s so evil to you, “This is why I say you’re not nice.”
“Do you want me to be nice? To tell you how pretty you are and how good of a job you’re doing?” The reaction you have is almost visceral, skin heating and looking away from him. Even more embarrassed when he chuckles at you, “Got a bit of a praise kink, hmm?”
“You’re making this difficult for me.”
“You should’ve just done what I asked then,” he shrugs easily.
If you thought holding out would punish him more than you, then maybe you’d just get off him and go home to get yourself off but you want him to make you feel good. So instead, you’ll just give in and hope he shows you mercy, though by how this is going, he doesn’t seem to be the type.
Experimentally, you roll your hips down into Geto and he huffs out a breath like he wasn’t expecting it. Your hands move to his shoulders for purchase, using the leverage you have there to grind down into him harder.
He holds onto your waist. Not moving you, just resting his hands there, “Oh fuck– no– hah– no warning?”
You shake your head at him, brows pinched as you focus on seeking your own pleasure, “You– hnn– wanted me to– hah– to do as you asked.”
His head falls back slightly at the pleasure, a lazy smile on his face, “That’s true.”
The longer you do this, the slicker his pants get, you’re so unbelievably wet that it’s coating the material obscenely. Geto is in awe of it, eyes fixed on where you’re rutting down into him, marvelling at the damp spot on his pants, at how drenched your panties are. So soaked that they’re practically a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination with how it’s sticking to you.
He holds you still suddenly and the whine you let out is endearing, “Wait for a second,” he huffs.
Moving his hands to his belt to undo it, shuffling his pants down his legs. You lean up on your knees for a moment for him to drop them to his feet but before you can sit back down, his hand is holding you there. He runs the fingers of his other hand through your covered folds, a groan coming from the back of Geto’s throat.
“Seriously, you’re so fucking wet,” he reminds you.
“Sorry…”
He almost chokes, “‘Sorry?’” His fingers draw up to your clit, pressing into it, “Don’t be fucking sorry… I’m nearly salivating because of how drenched you are.”
That catches you off guard, “Sugu–”
He doesn’t let you speak, “–This wet because of me? It’s my fault you said?”
You bite your lip, his fingers circling your clit deliciously, “Mhm.”
His eyes brighten, “Perfect. Aren’t you just perfect for me?”
Your legs start shaking and he lets you drop back to his lap, one less layer between the two of you now. He’s so warm and hard and if you weren’t straddling him, you’d be clenching your thighs together for relief.  
“You are doing such a good job for me,” he whispers low against your ear, “Having the most perfect reactions.”
You whine at his praise, “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Yeah,” he licks against your ear, “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”
His size is honestly daunting, large and thick as you sit on it, throbbing underneath you. “Suguru?”
He noses at your cheekbone, “Mmm?”
“I’m worried…”
“About?”
“What if you don’t fit…” you look down to his lap, “I just mean, you feel…big.”
“I don’t have to put it in you,” he comforts but he can’t help the way he twitches at your genuine concern over taking him.
“But you want to?”
“What sort of a question is that?” he holds you down while he grind up into you, “Does it feel like I want to?”
“I was jus– ah!– I was just checking,” you sulk back.
Your mind melts, getting away from you. He’s rutting up into you in a way that has you shaking and your breaths stuttering. On edge for so long while sat in his lap, you want to meet his grinds, you want to move your hips into him but his grip is firm and steady.
It’s honestly a little pitiful how quickly he’s building you up, your insides clenching with the pleasure. The drag back and forth on his clothed cock driving you slowly to insanity. His boxers almost as ruined as your panties, your slick coating his covered dick. The glide much smoother than what you’d expect. It’s like you can feel him throbbing for you and it makes you want to fully take him even more.
Your own thoughts riling you up, the idea of him sitting so heavily inside you makes you huff out a whine. A sound that Geto relishes in, in fact, he’s relishing in all of this. You’re so malleable to his will, he thinks in this state, you’d let him do whatever he pleases. The thought alone nearly has his eyes rolling.
He needs you to cum like this, he needs to see it. How you shake and writhe on top of him, the expression you make. He wants to make you cum in so many different ways just to see how your expressions might differ each time.
It’s relentless, how he humps up into you, how he pulls you down into him. Your clit catching on the tip of his dick making you jump each time, shocks of pleasure running through you. You never thought something like this would feel so damn good.
Fingers grappling at the material of his shirt, pleasure wracking your body as he draws you closer and closer, “Stop– ah!– if you keep going I’ll– hnn–”
“–So soon?” he hums, “I don’t know if– hah– I believe you… you’re gonna have to prove it,” he leers back at you.
His eyes on you feel so consuming, calm and watching but so hungry that it’s driving you to the edge. It feels like you’re melting, so warm and unbelievably close. Body twitching on top of him with your impending orgasm. You don’t even get to try and warn him again, sounds you’ve never heard yourself make falling from your mouth before you can think to stop them. Trembling with the force of your orgasm, feeling so weak as you slump into him, eyes wet and bleary.
Geto feels like he’s vibrating, watching you come undone on top of him making him feel too much at once. His arms wrap around you and hold you close, hands smoothing up and down your back. Lips close to your ear when he speaks, “You know… you make some really cute noises when you cum.”
Lazily, you look up at him through your lashes. Feeling a stupid kind of pleasure running through your body, still jolting slightly with the come down. “Stop trying to embarrass me.”
“I’m only being honest,” his hands slip under your shirt, groping your waist, “You getting embarrassed is just a bonus.”
“Have you always been this sadistic?”
He leans in and presses a kiss to the side of your mouth, “Who knows?” He smiles.
Turning, you catch his mouth with yours. Kissing him properly, hands tickling the back of his neck as you try to kiss him like he did you earlier. His hands on your waist grip you, lips imploring. So needy in how he returns your kiss, all but whining when you part. A string of saliva connects your mouths and he wipes your lower lip with his thumb, pressing it to your lips like he might push it inside.
Eyes lost as he dances his digit over your plush lips, “You’re beautiful,” is all he says, gazing at you with so much affection.
Opening your mouth, you gently take his thumb between your teeth. Biting so very lightly before flicking your tongue over the tip of it. Geto looks like he blushes at the action, pulling his hand back.
“Seems as though I’m not the only tease,” he accuses.
You mutter back at him, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His compliment had made you feel so soft and tingly that you didn’t know what to say or how to react. It’s not like he’s never complimented you before, you just weren’t expecting him to call you beautiful so earnestly. Being given compliments by someone has never made your insides flutter as much as they did just now.
He hums at you, redirecting his attention. Pulling at the hem of your shirt to show what he wants; you lift your arms up so he can remove it from you properly. Feeling so bare on top of him but not really minding, still too blissed on your orgasm to care.
Geto doesn’t waste any time, groping your tits in his large hands. Rolling your nipples experimentally and grinning wide at how you twitch and bite back moans at it. “My, you’re sensitive.”
Teeth digging into your lower lip to stop the pitiful noises he’s threatening to pull from you, “Try not to sound so pleased about that.” Your blood is still thumping through your ears, pleasure fresh in your bones.
“Would you rather I be upset?”
“I’d rather you not make– ah!–”
His wet mouth wrapping around your nipple has your words cutting off suddenly, back arching into him. Huffing out breaths at how he flicks his tongue over your sensitive skin, dizzy from the heat he’s making you feel. Pulling back with an obscene pop, licking at you a final time while keeping eye contact before swapping to your neglected tit.
He’s playing with you, or he’s waiting for you to say you’re ready for more… no he’s definitely just playing with you. Taking his time leaving marks all over your tits, even biting some places. Neglecting himself in favour of teasing you to insanity, though it can’t be that painful for him considering how he’s enjoying this immensely.
Whining at him, “You– hah!– You’re gonna leave too many marks,” he ignores you in favour of making a new mark to the top of your breast, “Suguru!”
Threading your fingers through his hair, you pull him back with a tug. You’re frowning at him but your eyes are so wet and dazed and you’re nearly completely naked on top of him. Covered in hickeys and his saliva, despite your pulled brows you look so euphoric.
Feigning ignorance, he simpers, “What’s wrong with that?” A finger trails over the marks he’s left, grazing a sensitive nipple in his journey, “You seemed to liked it.”
Swallowing your pride, you tell him directly, “I want more.”
“You want to cum again?” He muses, “Greedy.”
Taking offence at his accurate guess, you add, “I want… you to as well.”
Geto ignores the thumping of his heart, “Take off your panties then.”
“But…”
A brow raises at you, “‘But’ what?”
You don’t really want to tell him about how shaky your legs are, you’re a little concerned they’ll give out as soon as you try to stand. He really doesn’t need the ego boost right now, “Nothing.”
Moving off him so so carefully, you keep your hands on his shoulders as you stand between his spread legs. With the way your knees are wobbling and fingers gripping to him so harshly, it doesn’t take him long to figure out that you’ve not really got a great sense of balance right now. A smug smile gracing his lips when he sees you fight to figure out how you’re going to take off your panties with your hands on him.
“Something wrong?”
“No,” You quickly answer.
“Then take them off,” a finger pulls at the waistline of your underwear only to let it snap back to you. At your continued struggle he adds, “Or do you want me to take them off for you?”
You look to him, eyes hopeful for mercy, “Please?”
“Sure,” his tone polite but you’re not sure you’re that trusting of him.
Thankfully, his hands slide them delicately down your legs, brushing against your thighs. Though, he’s an opportunist and he uses this chance to grip at your thighs, pulling at your skin further and further up your legs. Humming low to himself at the slick coating your inner thighs, unable to help himself when he drags his fingers through your folds, touching your pussy directly.
“Fuck, alright–” He bites out, pulling you to his lap suddenly, “I’ve reached my limit.”
“Wait,” he stops his frantic movements and you pull at his shirt, “Take it off.”
He doesn’t even tease, just immediately does as you asked, hastily tugging his shirt off. It’s dropped less than gracefully onto the floor. Your fingers dance along his shoulders, down his chest. You want to take it all in a bit more but he’s flopping onto his back and shucking his boxers down enough to pull his cock free.
The size of him almost has your eyes bulging, you wonder how he’s been so patient when he’s this hard and achy looking. Tip flushed deep pink and already smothered in his own leaky precum, your cunt throbs while looking at him. Caught between concern over his size and a desperate need to be full of him.
“You don’t have to take it but please just–” He grabs and moves you until you’re hovering over it, “Sit on it at least.”
Lowering yourself cautiously, you sit on him lightly. He can feel your heat and it makes him shiver, “I don’t need you to be gentle with me,” he snickers, “Split your pussy open on my dick.”
Geto doesn’t even give you the chance to do it yourself, hands tugging you down onto him with more force. A gasp ripping from you when he immediately starts dragging you back and forth on his whole length. Stifled groans leave him from under you, his chest vibrating under your palm.
“Sugu–”
“–Sorry,” his brows are knitted together, “I got– nnh– impatient.”
It’s so wet, slipping over him repeatedly, the head of his cock nudging your clit over every pass. Your teeth dig into your lower lip to fight the whines bubbling inside you but eventually you give up and just let yourself moan. He seems to like it anyways, cock jerking at the soft breaths and whimpers leaving you.
He’s on the brink of stupidity, you’re so soft and unbelievably warm and his tip keeps catching on your hole and it makes him shudder each time. Looking down, he watches the way you’re coating his cock in more of your slick, cock shiny with how wet you are. Lewd sounds of your pussy grinding over him fill the room and now he’s thinking about you creaming around him. He’s never wanted something so bad in his life.
“Sugu,” you call out to him and he dopily pulls his eyes to yours, “Do you think I could just…” when his cockhead catches on your hole again, you press down, not even taking him in any real way and yet still stretching slightly for it.
His grip hardens on you, holding you completely still, “There’s no ‘just’ anything.” He struggles to breath out evenly, “Not with how tight you are.”
“I wanna feel full though,” you try wiggling down into him but he’s truly got you in a vice like hold.
His cock twitches as excitement rushes through him, “You asking me to take your virginity, pretty?”
Shy when you ask, “Would you?”
He’s not passing on the chance to pick on you a little bit, “How bad do you want it?”
He can feel the way your hole flutters when you think about his question, your answer seemingly downplaying how you feel, “Pretty bad.”
“Hmm,” He pretends to think about his answer.
You’re taking issue with his faux deep thought, “Sugu, stop acting like you’re not…”
“Go on,” he encourages, “‘Like I’m not’ what?”
“Like you’re not…” you look away from him, mumbling out, “Aching for it…”
“Oh? You aching for it?” The smile he’s wearing can be heard in his words.
He sounds way too gleeful over this and it’s ticking you off, “Nope,” you pop the ‘p’ as you lift yourself off him.
“Don’t be like that,” he sits up, “I’m not letting you go anywhere… not when I know you’re aching for my cock.”
“I did not say that.”
“That’s what I heard you say,” he shrugs.
Geto’s arms wrap around you only to throw you down onto the bed, gone from you for a second while he shoves his boxers off quickly. And then he’s crawling over you, hands tracing up your body, relishing in your reactions to him.
“You really are so sensitive,” he mutters, trailing a finger up your thigh and watching your skin break out in goosebumps.
He’s being so unbearable, the need you feel is so loud and he’s here taunting you, “You’re so frustrating.”
“You’re just a needy little thing,” he returns, “So desperate to be filled even though you’re not prepared in the slightest.”
“Then prepare me,” you whine back.
He finds this about you cute, your insatiable greed, your back and forth between shy and so horny that you’re getting pissy at him. “I should teach you some manners,” he grumbles.
You spread your legs for him obscenely, growing even more impatient. “Please, touch me,” you pull his hand towards your pussy, “please.”
If he ever gets the chance to touch you like this again he’s going to torture you because right now you’re playing so completely unfairly that he can’t even think to deny you. His brows pull up as he flushes, finding himself doing exactly what you wanted, fingers gliding through your folds.
The way you keen at his touch almost makes it worth it. “You don’t play fair,” he complains.
“Someone lead by– hah!– po– poor example, I guess,” you shudder when he slips a single finger inside you.
Geto groans at the snug heat of your cunt, closing his eyes to take a quick breath at just how you feel wrapped around his digit. The fear or cumming the minute he gets inside you is real; he’s going to have to develop an insane amount of self-restraint between then and now.
“You’re hilarious,” he leans down to whisper in your hear, “Now shhh…” He draws his finger back before fucking it back in, lewd wet sounds of your pussy filling the silence, “Hear that?” He keeps repeating his movements, taking immense joy in how you writhe under him, “I think… pretty things that are this wet and begging to get fucked… don’t get to mock me.”
Your fingers dig into his shoulders, eyes glassy when you look up at him, “Don’t– nnh– be sooo mean.”
“You haven’t seen me be mean,” he pulls his finger back just to stuff another inside you, grinning when you arch your back at it, “I’ve only been nice to you today.”
“Be nicer,” you pout.
“Don’t wanna be,” he smiles graciously back at you.
The fingers he has in you scissor to spread you open, pleased hums leaving him at your responses. Your mouth drops open and legs shake, fighting to close but unable to with how he’s in-between them. He’s hitting all the perfect spots inside you, crooking his digits to rub against your inner walls in a way you’re never able to reach.
He’s getting you so close to cumming that you want to hide from him, somehow feeling so much more vulnerable like this than when you were sitting in his lap earlier. Slowly, he works you to the point of taking another of his fingers, fucked open on three of them now. Your toes curl and your thighs hoist themselves on either side of his waist. Hips grinding into his hand, meeting his movements.
Geto finds the frenzied and desperate grinds into his hand adorable, satisfied with just how much more greedy you get when you’re this turned on. He already knows you must be close, your sudden drive to fuck down onto his fingers a dead giveaway to him.
He adds his thumb, rubbing circles into your clit. You jerk at it, tits bouncing in a way that has him drooling. To be honest, if you weren’t practically begging to get dicked down earlier he would’ve put his mouth on you. Maybe if he weren’t also desperate to put his cock in you he’d do it anyways but for now, he’ll settle for fingerfucking you to insanity and then shoving you full of his dick.
Your voice comes out smaller than you want, “Sugu, I think–”
“–I know,” his eyes are bright, fully aware of how close you are.
He can feel the way you twitch and clench down on him, back arching off the bed. Speeding up his movements just to get you there that much quicker and when you’re about to cum all over his fingers… he pulls them from you. Leaving you without your orgasm but so high that he could blow on your clit and you might cum.
You whine at him, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Expression dopey and angry, sexually frustrated from the cruel and unexpected edging he just put you through. “What the hell, Suguru?!”
His grin is wolfish, merciless expression painted over with faux pity, “I’m so sorry, pretty. Were you close?” A hand cradles your face, soothing you for something that is completely his fault.
“Why would you do that?” All he’s succeeded in is making you needier than before, squirming under him with no way to find relief.
His answer is simple, “Just to see how you’d react.”
“I shouldn’t have hung out with you today.”
“Don’t be like that,” he guides his dick to your cunt, “I’m ‘bout to treat you so good.”
“If you don’t let me cum we’re not friends anymore,” you warn.
He snickers at how genuine you’re being, “Alright.”
“I mean it, Suguru.”
“I know you do,” he presses a kiss to your temple, “That’s why it’s a little tempting.”
You whine at him, “Can you stop being so cruel for a moment?”
He blinks at you, “What do I get if I do?”
“What do you want?”
“I want to be the first person you go on a date with.”
His request confuses you, “What? Why?”
He doesn’t answer you, “Those are my terms,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Okay! Fine, yes, whatever you want,” you nod at him.
He smiles and starts pushing into you, the stretch is a lot and it aches more than his fingers. You’re trying to breathe through it but it seems like he is too. His thumb is on your clit, trying to get you to relax for him. “St– stop– hah– fuck!– stop clenching so tight,” he hisses through his teeth.
“I can’t– nnh– help it,” your nails dig into his skin.
His lashes flutter when he gets his tip inside you, groan leaving him. “Wh– when I s–say date I mean– hnnn– a real date. A ‘I take you out and then try kissing you at the end of it’ date.”
For some reason, that makes your insides twist and you squirm. “Wh– whatever you– nnh– want, Sugu.”
“Yeah? You’re gonna– hah– dress up and let me take you out for your first ever date?” His fingers grip at his blanket below.
Your eyes roll as he slips further inside you, babbling out, “If you– hnn– let me cum? I’ll date only you.”
Geto sputters at that, hips driving forwards on their own making you both moan. His upper body drops down to you, lips ghosting over your neck and cheek before taking yours in a sweet kiss. He knows you’re out of your mind horny and probably not even sure of what you just said but he’s going to live in this moment while he fucks you.
He’s kissing your breath away while he slowly fills you to the hilt, trying so hard to be careful with you. His lips successfully distract you from the ache you were feeling, melting into him as he licks at your tongue.
Parting from you only when he’s balls deep inside you, head flopping to your shoulder as he moans. Struggling to keep it together, you’re wrapped so snug and hot around him, pulsing so tightly around his aching cock that he feels like he might cum at any second.
“Sugu?” When he hums, you continue, “Move please?”
You wiggle your hips into him but he’s quick to stop you with a firm hand, “If you don’t want this ending right now then you need to give me a moment.”
“Hmm, that’s awfully cute of you, Suguru,” you tease him.
“That’s bold,” he licks at the shell of your ear, “I’m going to ruin you.”
“More than you already have?”
He agrees, “So much more.”
It feels like an eternity before he’s finally dragging his hips back, that alone has your breath stuttering. He wants to set a punishing pace so bad; he wants to fuck you until you’re mad but he starts slow. Thrusting back into you at a languid pace, still carefully opening you up on his fat dick. It’s your first time and as much as he loves torturing you, he also loves pleasing you.
You’re scrabbling for purchase at his leisurely pace anyways, not expecting the heavy drag of his cock to feel this mind numbing. He chuckles lowly at the way you’re already weak for him, though it’s completely his fault considering all he’s put you through up until now.
“I think you may be the awfully cute one,” he smirks at you.
Your insides tug at his tone, “You can– hnn– be quiet.”
Leaning up, he rest on his knees, pushing your leg back and up. He has a great view of you taking him like this, able to see all your reactions. “I can but your pussy really likes when I talk.”
He’s so smug and he gets to be too because he’s right, his lightly mocking tone and that polite smile he wears is a deadly combo that has your cunt seizing around him. “I like it– hah– better when you’re nice to me.”
“You’re taking me all so well, pretty,” he praises, “Pussy sucking me right back in, so greedily.”
Your eyes roll back at how he thrusts into you, new angle hitting deeper than before, “That’s not– hnn– being nice!”
“Really?” He watches the way your hole clenches and feels how much wetter you get around him, “‘Cause you seemed to like it a lot.”
You bite your lip as you look up at him, silently asking for him to fuck you.
He looks down his nose at you, “What are you asking for?”
Sulking, “I want you to– hah– move more.”
“You should’ve just said that then,” he crooks his head to the side at you.
The slow drag out is the same as always until he’s fucking himself back into you sharply, a gasped moan stumbling from you as your hands seek stability in the mattress below. Your whine is dragged out when he repeats it over and over, brows knitted together in your pleasure.
“That’s a nice reaction,” he comments smugly.
You only hum at him, too consumed by the feeling of him shoving his dick in and out over and over in such a relentless pace that you’re seeing stars. Either you’ve closed your eyes or they’ve rolled to the back of your head because you’re not seeing much of anything right now.
Your eyes are welling with tears, chest heaving with your breaths. The stretch in your leg increasing when Geto pushes down into you further, pushing back on your leg with it. He’s basically folded it over his shoulder, you had no idea you were capable of bending this much. You’re so dazed and fucked stupid when you look to him lazily, he looks so pretty like this. Hunched over you and driving his cock in and out of your tight heat, his hair hanging messily over his shoulders and face as his expression twists in bliss.
Reaching a hand up, you tuck a strand of his hair behind his hair, “You’re pretty.”
You say it so dopily that he wonders if you know what you’ve just said, “I’m fucking you to the point you’re cock drunk and you think I’m pretty?”
A shudder runs through you at his voice, “Mhm, and– ah!– you have– hnn– have a pretty voice.”
God help him, he’s about to cum from you calling him pretty. “St– stop– hnn– talking.”
“Sugu, you feel so–”
He cuts you off with a hand over your mouth, he has a feeling that whatever you were about to say would have him cumming inside you. “You’re so cute but I need you to shut up before I cum.”
From behind his hand, you look ruined. Tears slipping from your eyes, he can feel the way you’re drooling against his skin. The only sounds in the room his grunts, your muffled moans and the slick squelching of you swallowing his cock.
You want to keep telling him how pretty he is and how good he’s making you feel but even without him hindering you, you feel as though you may be beyond words now. Brain not able to form very cohesive thoughts as of this moment let alone speak them. He has you feeling so full, his cock throbbing against your walls in a way that has your skin thrumming.
Geto’s eyes lock down on where he’s stuffing himself into your little cunt, he feels himself short circuiting at the sight. Pussy bulging around him, struggling to take him all, dick so shiny with your slick. White creamy ring at the base of himself, it’s messy and lewd and it has him feeling so unbelievably obsessed with your cunt.
Thinking distantly that he’s going to do his best to impress you on your date so he can have you again, next time he’s definitely licking your pussy. Debauched groans vibrate in his chest at the thought, he’s going to make this so unforgettable for you, he needs you to be as obsessed with him as he is you. He’s going to be so much worse after this and he was already down pretty bad.
Your hand grabs at his wrist, trying to tug it away so you can speak. He pulls back out of curiosity, “I– hnn– I’m– ah!–” Giving up trying to warn him after a particular thrust has you crying out, there’s no real point in warning him anyways.
He grins at your inability to say anything meaningful, “I’ve gotcha, go ahead and cum for me.”
Of course he knew exactly what you were trying to say, how does he already know your body so perfectly. He leans down to you, impossibly close, just to kiss your cheek and say, “Come on, pretty, I wanna feel you squeeze me tight before I cum in you.”
Crude and obscene and effective because his words make you shudder as you suddenly cum around him. A little frantic in how you squirm under him, eyes rolling as your hips fight to fuck yourself onto his thrusts. Pitiful whimpers of his name leaving you repeatedly, the only really comprehensive thing you’re able to utter out.
Geto’s orgasm is immediately triggered by yours, he was hoping he’d get to play with you a little more but as soon as he felt the sinful way you gripped him while you came, he was done for. Your cunt pulsating around him milking him for all he’s worth, he’s cumming so much so deeply. His hips flush to yours as he only grinds into you to ride out both your highs.
He doesn’t think he’s ever cum that much in his life and he’s unsure if it’s because it’s you or because he held back for so long. His weight drops to you as he catches his breath, feeling spent and so drunk on your pussy that if he thought too hard about you he’d get hard again.
Your hand taps lightly at his shoulder, words all garbled when you speak, “Sugu, too heavy.”
Shoving his arms under you, he rolls until you’re on top of him. Cock slipping from you in the process and it has you letting out a cute whine.
“It’s leaking out of me,” you warn him.
He groans, “Don’t say that.”
You rest your check to his collarbone, “Why not?”
“I’ll get turned on again.”
Rolling your eyes at him, “You’re an insatiable pervert.”
“You’re not much better.”
His hands tickle up your sides, repeating the motion over, it’s making you feel sleepy. “You’re still worse.”
He just hums at you, apparently not caring to argue back. “You gonna be okay to shower?”
“In a bit… and only if you carry me the whole time.”
He laughs at that, “Sure.”
You draw mindless patterns on his chest with your finger, “So… where are you taking me on my first date?”
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𝒂.𝒏. this was actually a request that i got carried away with,, my requests aren't even open i just fucked with the idea that hard hehe.... i hope you all enjoyed and thank you very much for reading !!!
(i recently made a discord for my followers so if you guys are interested in that please check out the pinned page on my blog :3)
[⚠︎] — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.ᐟ do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision
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damneddamsy · 2 days ago
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falling | joel miller x fem!oc (part i)
summary: Joel Miller never expected much out of Jackson—just a quiet place to live out the days he had left. But when a baby’s cries lead him to a mother unravelling under the pressure of nursing her child she never asked for, he finds himself tangled in something he can’t walk away from—no matter how much he tells himself he should.
a/n: this is soft daddy Joel like you've never seen before. angst, angst, angst. just heart-wrenching, gut-clenching, bucket-full-of-tears kind of flow. but I promise, I swear to you, it's going to get good!
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Joel had spent the past week trying to ignore it.
The sound was distant, muffled through the walls, but it was there—constant, sharp infant's cries cutting through the night like something wounded, something helpless. The baby never laughed, cooed, or made small, gurgling noises that kids were supposed to make. Just crying. Night after night, the same pitiful wails, like it was fighting sleep and didn’t know how to be comforted.
And the mother?
Leela. That was her name. Tommy and Maria had told him her family had been here before them, before all of this, that she’d grown up in Jackson, that the big house across from his had always been hers. He instantly believed it—her place didn’t look like the others. It was well-kept in a way that wasn’t just for show. The wood was aged but polished, the porch steps sturdy, and the windows wiped clean even in the dead of winter. A home, not just a shelter.
But it wasn’t warm.
Not with that sound in the night. Not when he never saw anyone else go inside.
No one knew who the kid’s father was, and Leela never said. She wouldn’t even let people help her—not Maria, not the older women in town who had tried, not even the ones who had kids of their own and knew what to do. And now, at the end of another long day, that fucking baby was crying again.
Joel had tried to let it be. Had forced himself to breathe calmly, stay in his house, shut the curtains, turn over in bed and pull the blanket over his head like some stubborn old bastard trying to pretend it wasn’t his problem.
But it was.
Because he could hear it. Because it sounded fucking miserable. Because he’d had enough.
When the cries began to get worse into the night, that was his last straw. With a frustrated sigh, he yanked on his jacket, shoved his arms through the sleeves, and stepped out into the cold, the door crashing shut behind him. The snow crunched beneath his boots as he crossed the road, hands tightening into fists, shoulders squared. The wind was sharp, biting at his skin, and when he reached her porch, he had half a mind to just bang on the damn door until she answered.
But then—he hesitated.
There was still a kid in there. The devilkin, probably. A baby nevertheless. And it's struggling mother.
He exhaled through his nose, loosened his fingers, and reached for the old metal knocker instead. Three firm, steady raps.
A pause. A paddle of footsteps down the staircase inside, light and hesitant. A sniffle. A sigh.
The curtains fluttered from nearby—just a fraction, just enough for him to catch the glint of an eye in the darkness, shedding a blade of light onto the frozen lawn. And then the door creaked open.
The poor mother looked like hell.
Her eyes—pretty, brown, red-rimmed, heavy-lidded—held the kind of exhaustion that settled deep, beyond sleep, beyond fixing. Her cheeks were hollowed, her lips chapped to brown, her hair falling loose from whatever attempt she’d made to pull it back.
And the baby—the cries hadn’t stopped. If anything, they were worse now. Closer. Desperate. The sound reached him in waves, piercing and thin, rattling against the walls of the house and clawing at something deep in his chest. A familiarity.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she murmured. Her voice was raw, barely holding together. “I just…”
She trailed off as if the words had run out, or maybe she didn’t have the strength to find them. Then the baby shrieked, and she flinched. A full-body recoil, like something had struck her. She turned away, pressing her wrist to her nose, shoulders curling inward, folding into herself as though she could disappear into the space she took up.
And Joel—well, he had been ready to lay into her. To tell her to do something, to figure it out, to stop letting that kid cry itself raw night after night. But looking at her now, standing there with her arms wrapped tight around herself, shaking from something that wasn’t just the cold…
He couldn’t do it.
Instead, against every instinct, every frustration, he surprised himself by saying—
“Let me try.”
X
Joel didn’t exactly wait for an answer.
Didn’t stop to think if he had the right. Didn’t question if she would let him in, because the noise was still there, splitting the air, working its way under his skin like a thorn that wouldn’t come out. His jaw tightened, his hands curled into fists, and the next thing he knew, he was pushing past her and her doorstep.
He wasn’t trying to be cruel. Well, he had been, just not anymore.
It was desperation. A need to stop that noise. That noise had been giving him sleepless nights for a week now. And with it, came the memories he’d spent years burying. He couldn't afford to let them resurface by the likes of this strange, terrible mother.
The house smelled faintly of old wood, dust, and something softer underneath—like linen, like the lingering scent of a person who lived there and never left. It was dark, too, save for the single glow spilling from a room upstairs. His boots were heavy against the worn floorboards, his breath tight in his chest as he took the stairs two at a time. Three doors on the second floor, but only one was open.
He stepped inside.
The first thing he saw was the cradle, right in the centre of the empty room, as if placed there on purpose, a little crib mobile fashioned into wooden horses, dangling mid-air.
Old. Hinges barely holding together. The wood had worn smooth from time, its edges dulled, like something that had been used for generations. The mattress inside was thin, its fabric stained with age, but the sheets were neatly tucked. Arranged properly. Everything was in its place.
This wasn’t neglect.
This was someone trying—someone failing.
And then the baby. No older than a month, wriggling in its white nappy, legs kicking in frantic little bursts, tiny fists curled so tight they trembled. Tears slicked its cheeks, its face blotchy and red, its mouth stretched wide in a scream so raw, so piercing, that it stole the breath straight from the lungs. It was exhausted. Starving.
But goddamn, if that wasn't one beautiful fucking baby.
Biggest brown eyes he’d ever seen, glassy with exhaustion, wet and searching. A head full of thick, dark hair, damp and curling at the ends. But it wasn’t chubby the way babies should be. Not soft enough. Too small, skin drawn tight, movements restless but weak. Malnourished.
His jaw clenched. He barely registered the sharp footsteps rushing up behind him until her voice cut through the noise.
“Hey, ‘scuse me, I didn’t let—”
He cut off her protest with an abrupt, “Boy or girl?”
She stopped short. Lips parting. Swallowing down whatever she’d been about to say.
“Girl.”
Joel’s gaze flicked back to the baby. He noticed the slight bloating around her belly, the way she arched and curled, restless, like she couldn’t find a position that didn’t hurt. That explained the shrieking. Colic, for sure.
“You fed her anything?”
There was a thoughtful pause, and then, quietly—
“I—I’ve been having trouble with…” She gestured vaguely to her chest, gaze dropping, almost ashamed. “I tried water... um... I don't know.”
Jesus Christ. Joel dragged a hand down his face, exhaling hard through his nose. Too late at night or too early in the morning—he didn’t know which, and at this point, it didn’t matter. His head ached. His body ached. And this kid—this poor, starving little thing—had been too hapless to be born to this fucking clueless, stubborn mother.
“Need to call Maria,” he said under his breath.
Her eyes went wide. “I don’t need anybody’s help. I'm fine.”
He let out a sharp, humourless laugh, shaking his head. “You don't. Your girl sure does. And try saying that when this crib empties in the next week.”
She flinched, shoulders jerking.
He barely registered it. He was already moving, already slipping into old instinct, the one he thought had died a long time ago.
Stepping closer, Joel reached into the cradle, hands slipping beneath the baby’s small, rigid body. Carefully, he eased her onto her stomach, a shush falling from his lips, settling her against his forearm, palm spanning nearly the length of her body. Christ, she was so fucking small. Too small. Probably premature. A frail little thing, light as air, fists still curled, breath coming out in tiny, shuddering gasps between cries.
Leela stood stiff beside him, her breath uneven, arms wrapped around herself like she wasn’t sure if she should step forward or pull away.
Joel didn’t look at her. His focus stayed on the baby. The way her tiny limbs jerked, how her cries wavered like she couldn’t decide if she had the energy to keep going.
He started rubbing slow, steady circles against her back, the calloused warmth of his palm pressing gently but firmly over her fragile bones. Something old stirred in him—something buried deep, something that twisted like a knife. He didn’t think about it. Didn’t let himself. Just kept rubbing. Kept murmuring something low, quiet, something he wasn’t even aware of.
“Thatta, girl. There you go.”
“'Sokay, ssh. Ssh.”
“I got you.”
The wails started to waver, breaking apart in the middle, turning into stuttering hiccups, then snivels, a laughable baby burp that even had him breaking into a small smile. Then—
Silence. Oh, sweet, splendid silence.
Joel exhaled, keeping his touch steady as she shuddered against him, her tiny fingers twitching against the sleeve of his jacket.
“See?” His voice was rough. “Just needed a little push.”
Leela didn’t respond. She was staring. Not at him, exactly, but at his hands, at the way he held the baby. Like she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Observing him, learning.
When he glanced down, she was blinking up at him, half-lidded, her breath slowing, her little body going limp with exhaustion. She made a wet, little noise, almost a soft coo.
“She got a name?”
When the silence lingered, he lifted his head, caught Leela’s stare, and cocked a brow when she didn’t answer. Then, she silently shook her head.
Joel frowned. “You didn’t name your kid?”
And just like that, something clicked into place. The way she stood there, arms locked tight around herself. The way she hadn’t called the baby anything. The way she hadn't moved a step close to protect her baby from this stranger. The hesitation in her voice, the way she held herself together like she was bracing for something.
“She ain’t yours?”
Her gaze flickered. “She is.”
Soft. Firm. After a beat, she lifted the hem of her shirt, revealing the crisscross of stretch marks across her stomach, just above the line of her pants.
Joel sighed through his nose. His fingers ghosted over the baby’s small back before he finally let go, letting her rest in her mother's arms. It felt wrong—leaving the baby there like that—but he slipped his hand away, albeit unwillingly, and stroked her fine, dark hair once. Twice. Then forced himself to stop.
He exhaled sharply, standing upright, rubbing a hand over his face. His patience was hanging by a thread. His chest ached with something raw, something angry. He had no business being here, no reason to care, but—
"Look," he muttered, voice tight, "you shouldn't have had a kid if you were just gonna sit around and do nothing. Jesus, at least get yourself some help."
Leela cringed. It was barely noticeable, just a flicker of movement, but he caught it. She turned her face away, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear, and bit at what little was left of her nail, worrying it between her teeth.
The sight of it—it wasn’t what he expected. He had been bracing for an argument, for defensiveness, for anger. But there was nothing like that. Just the quiet gnawing of her thumbnail, the restless shifting of her fingers.
Something settled uneasily in his chest.
He exhaled sharply. "Maria’s coming in tomorrow," he said, firm. Like he was setting it in stone. "Whether you like it or not. She'll know what to do."
That made her glance up. And for the first time, he really saw her.
Not just the exhaustion, the red-rimmed eyes, or the way she curled in on herself like she was trying to take up as little space as possible—but the fear. That deep, paralyzing kind of fear that settled into a person’s bones, made a home there.
Then his eyes flicked downward, back to the baby. She had her mother’s eyes. Big, dark, and brimming with something wild, something untamed. Something fragile, caught on the verge of bolting. And in that moment, they both looked the same.
Wet. Trembling. Exhausted. Confused. Helpless.
Leela swallowed thickly, lips parting like she wanted to speak. But when she did, her voice barely made it past her throat. “Take her.”
Joel blinked. For a second, he thought he must’ve misheard.
But she was looking at him—really looking at him now, eyes wide and wet, breath uneven like she’d just sprinted a mile. And the way she was standing, trembling, fists curled into the fabric of her sleeves—She meant it. She was serious.
"You're right," she whispered, voice barely there. "I might kill her. Just take her away, please."
A slow, sinking dread pooled in his stomach. His fingers curled at his sides, restless, itching for something to hold onto.
The baby stirred weakly against Leela’s chest, small fingers twitching up to her mother's neck, dark lashes fluttering against flushed skin. She had gone quiet, her body still in that way newborns only got when they were too damn exhausted to keep crying.
His hands twitched at his sides. He knew what he should do. He should take the kid. That was the right thing, wasn’t it? He should lift her into his arms, swaddle her in a blanket, turn on his heel, and walk out the door. Hand her off to Maria, and let someone who actually knew what they were doing step in. Hell, she’d been talking about trying to set up a proper nursery in town, get the kids what they needed—she’d figure it out.
But Joel didn't move; couldn't move.
Because now that he was looking at her, really looking, he saw it—saw the fear clinging to her like a second skin. Not fear of him. Not fear of what people might say. Fear of herself. Conviction was a luxury.
She stood there, arms wrapped tight around herself, her body drawn inward like she was trying to make herself small as if shrinking could somehow erase the truth. The baby rested against her chest, quiet now, as if sensing the shift in the air. Her fingers barely touched her child, hesitant, light, the way someone might hold a delicate piece of glass they weren’t sure they could be trusted with.
Joel’s stomach turned.
“I—I'm not—I can’t do this.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, frayed at the edges, raw like an old wound that had never properly healed.
He felt something sharp and hot twist inside him, something he didn’t want to name.
“You ain’t givin’ her up.” His voice came out rough, low, unwavering.
Leela let out a breathy, broken laugh, shaking her head. “Do you think I have a choice here?”
“Yeah.” His eyes stayed on hers, unrelenting. “I do.”
She sniffled, shaking her head again, but her fingers twitched against her sleeve, gripping the fabric like she needed something to hold onto.
And Joel—Joel had seen this before. Had known people like this. People who stood at the edge of something dark, looking down, unable to turn back. He’d been one of them once. It made something ugly rise in his chest. Made him angry in a way that didn’t make sense, and didn’t sit right.
Because this mother—this stupid, foolish, ignorant girl—had no business being like that. She didn't even know what kind of luck she'd struck with that baby girl. He would've killed to be where she was, even if it was for a moment.
"You're a fucking coward if you're thinking about giving your daughter up.” The words left him, sharp as a blade, before he could stop them. “You got plenty of choices, but you're too goddamn pigheaded to make the right one."
She flinched. Not just in surprise, but something deeper—like he’d struck her with all his might, like he’d confirmed every awful thing she’d ever thought about herself.
Joel’s jaw locked. It was too late to take it back.
He should’ve stopped. He should’ve taken a breath, let the words settle and left it at that. But something about her, the way she stood there like she was waiting to be knocked down, made his patience snap clean in half.
“Pull yourself together,” he bit out.
Then he turned and walked out the door.
The air outside was colder than before, or maybe it felt that way. Snow crunched beneath his boots as he stepped onto the road, his breath coming sharp, ragged in the quiet of the night. His fingers ached, curled into tight fists, his pulse still hammering.
He was halfway across the street when something in him shifted.
His anger thinned, the heat of it fading just enough for everything else to creep in—her voice, her hands trembling, the way her arms had tightened around that kid like she was afraid of herself more than anything else.
He slowed, stopping in his tracks. The house loomed behind him, dark except for that single upstairs window.
Joel looked up at the home.
The cries had started again. Thin, reedy wails carried through the cold, through the walls.
He stood there, staring at the lights flickering against the frost-covered glass.
This time, jaw tight, he turned away.
X
That being said, Joel hadn’t slept well.
Not that he ever did, but last night was worse than usual.
Every time he closed his eyes, it was the baby’s cries again. He saw Leela’s face, dark and hollow, eyes too big for her sunken frame. He heard her voice, raw and trembling, telling him to take the kid—like it was the only way. Like she didn’t trust herself to keep her alive, already grieving her.
Even now, as he tugged on his gloves and prepared for patrol, he kept seeing the way she had watched him with her baby. He remembered the way she desperately looked at him, waiting for him to take the baby from her, as if letting go was the only mercy she had left to offer.
Maria was there now. She had let herself in, just like that. Hadn’t knocked, hadn’t hesitated. And Leela had not met her at the door, hadn’t locked it after Joel had walked out last night.
He adjusted the rifle on his back and exhaled sharply.
Not his problem. He shouldn't be bothered with it. He’d done his part. More than his part. He had brought help in, and gotten someone else to deal with it—someone better suited for this kind of thing. Maria would figure it out. She always did.
Still, as he swung himself onto his horse and rode out for patrol, that damn house stayed in the back of his mind. The way it stood there, quiet and still, while something inside was coming apart at the seams. The way Leela had stood in that dim room, shoulders curled inward, looking more like a ghost than a person.
He shook it off and went through the motions. Focus on the day ahead.
Patrol was long, tedious, and more of the same—checking the perimeter, clearing out old trouble spots down his trail, making sure everything was as it should be, and scouring supplies. A welcome distraction. When he stopped by Ellie’s as usual, she narrowed her eyes at him from behind her sketchbook, muttering something about how he looked like shit.
“Didn’t sleep,” was all he said. And she didn’t bother to press. Ellie was another long, welcome, more pesky distraction.
By the time evening rolled around, he’d fallen back into his routine. Routine. That was what mattered. He groomed his horse, rubbing his hands along its mane just to keep them busy. He cleaned his rifle, making sure the gears weren't easy to jam and stopped to pick up some new gear at the store. He grabbed a whiskey—alone—just to take the edge off, slowing down for a bit.
He finished the evening like always, grabbing a boxed dinner from the mess hall, not bothering to make small talk. No one asked anything of him, and he didn’t offer anything in return. A night like any other. Something he repeated to himself, just to ground himself to reality besides the weight of his breaking boots.
Then he saw her. Maria was still at that house, waiting by the porch swing, face tense. She spotted him almost instantly and strode straight toward him.
Joel nodded at her in greeting, shifting the box under his arm. "You good?"
Maria didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Sure. Got a second?”
He tipped his chin toward Leela’s door. "All set over there?"
“Far from it.” Her voice was tight, laced with something he didn’t like. “I need your help.”
Joel scoffed. “What’s the punchline?”
But Maria didn’t laugh. Didn’t even crack a smirk. Instead, she followed him inside his house.
Joel's 'home' was nothing special—functional, practical. Just a space to exist in. A couch pushed against one wall which he used more than the bed upstairs, a table he used out of necessity, a kitchen stocked with the bare minimum. Not much to look at, or even stay for long. It wasn't home, but it was enough. Certainly nothing like Leela’s home, where history bled through the worn floorboards, through the walls, a place that had been lived in.
Joel didn’t let himself think about it too much. He dropped the box of food onto the table, turning to Maria with his arms crossed.
“Well?”
Maria sighed, staring out the window toward Leela’s house. The porch light flickered weakly, and the house itself looked darker than it had last night. Like it had collapsed in on itself a little more.
“She’s not okay, Joel.”
Joel huffed, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve, pretending not to hear the implication behind those words. “Figured.”
“No,” Maria said, sharper this time. “I mean it.”
She turned back to him, her eyes shadowed with something heavier than just concern. She looked tired—worn—in a way that wasn’t just about the town or the thousand responsibilities on her shoulders. It was personal.
Joel exhaled through his nose, already feeling the walls closing in on this conversation.
Maria rubbed a hand over her face. “She’s disturbed. I don’t think she’s had a proper meal in days. She’s having trouble breastfeeding, let alone keeping herself together enough to care for that baby.” She shook her head. “I can’t be there all the time. I’ve got the whole town to run, a hundred things to look after. Tommy’s drowning in work. We're stretched thin as it is.” Her eyes met his, steady and pointed. “You’re my last resort.”
Joel frowned, jaw ticking. “And do what, exactly? Pretend like I've done this dance before?”
“Just be there,” Maria said so positively, like it wasn’t the worst fucking idea in the world. “Make sure she doesn’t slip up with the baby. Help where you can. Just a few days—until Tommy and I can step in.”
Joel dragged a hand down his beard, exhaling slowly. “You have got to be shitting me. You want me to play babysitter.”
Everything in him wanted to refuse. He’d done his part here. Hell, more than his part. He didn’t owe that woman anything. She had a nice home. Pretty face. She had her newborn. And if she didn’t know how to handle it, that was on her. He wasn’t looking to take on another burden. Christ, wasn’t he supposed to be done with this kind of thing? Wasn’t he past the point of taking in lost causes?
But Maria didn’t look like she was giving him a choice. Her voice softened, dropping to something quieter, edged with meaning. “I don’t think she had this baby with someone she knew, Joel.”
Joel stiffened. Maria’s expression didn’t change, but there was something unspoken there, something heavy, something that didn’t need to be stated outright. Still, it landed in his gut like a stone.
She let the silence stretch, let him fill in the gaps. And he did.
“I hope you understand what I'm getting at,” she continued. “I don’t think she wanted this at all.”
Joel clenched his jaw, staring at the floor, pretending like he didn’t hear them. He didn't ask how she knew, didn’t even ask what she’d seen in that house today that had led her to that conclusion.
Because he already knew. He’d seen it, too.
The way Leela couldn’t bring herself to name the baby. The way she looked at the child was like she was something fragile, something unfamiliar, something that didn’t belong to her. The way she had looked at him—not with resentment, not with anger, but with resignation.
Like she was handing over the baby because she genuinely believed it was the only way to save her. A fist of darkness curled in his stomach.
He knew what it was like to lose a child. He knew what it did to a person, how it tore through you, how it hollowed them out from the inside. But whatever this was, it wasn’t grief. This was something worse. He prayed he would never have to deal with this.
This was a woman standing on the edge of the deep and the dark, staring down into it, wondering how much further she could fall before there was no coming back. And there was a baby—a fucking baby—at her feet. Yet, she was ready to take that fall.
Joel exhaled, slow and heavy, rubbing the back of his neck.
But the truth was, he’d already stepped in. Already gotten himself involved. Whether out of desperation or some obstinate, buried need to fix things that were beyond saving, he wasn’t sure. And now, if he walked away, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to live with the consequences.
Suddenly, the room felt smaller, the walls a little tighter. A long silence stretched between them.
Finally, reluctantly, he sighed. “This is a big fucking mistake, Maria. I'm the last person who should be over there with her.”
Maria nodded, hearing what she needed to hear, relief flickering across her face. “You'll figure it out. I'll be around if you need anything. Thank you.”
Joel didn’t answer. He didn't know what the hell he’d just agreed to, but something in his gut told him it was going to end real bad.
X
Morning light washed over his neighbour's house, soft and cold, as Joel made his way up the steps. It must’ve been the perfect little home once, back when the world was still whole—white clapboard, modest porch with a swingset, somewhere that had been waiting too long for someone to come back home. A place built to last. And maybe, before seasons and silence collapsed, it had.
But time had sunk its teeth in. The paint had started peeling in the corners, the wood of the steps groaned under his boots, and though the windows were clean, there was something hollow about the way they sat in their frames as if no one had looked out of them in a long time. It didn’t have the neglect of a broken-down house, but rather the hush of a place that had lost something vital.
And the front door was open again.
Joel clenched his jaw.
Maria had been right—that girl really didn’t have a single clue.
He pushed the door wider and stepped inside, careful, slow, not wanting to seem intrusive but unable to stop himself from taking in the room. It wasn’t what he expected.
Her home wasn’t cluttered, wasn’t in disarray, but there was something about it that felt… off. A mind too busy to bother with the details of living. Against one wall stood two large blackboards hung haphazardly over shelves, filled with complex math equations, numbers and symbols scrawled out in clean, sharp lines. A few pieces of chalk lay scattered at the base, alongside crumpled papers and a wastebasket that never quite caught them. Shelves held solved Rubik’s cubes, closed notebooks, and empty pens stuck upright in a pen stand. On the table, a coffee mug sat with dried stains at the bottom, an imprint of hands that had used it over and over, mindlessly, then set it aside without a thought.
Joel frowned, taking it all in.
A fucking scientist. That was the last thing he’d ever have guessed about her. Dr Leela last-name-something, the resident nerd mom.
He didn’t know what he expected when he climbed the stairs, only that something about the house still put him on edge. It wasn’t just the oddity of it—the blackboards filled with numbers, the pages of equations scattered like fallen leaves—it was the fact that none of it felt lived in. Clinical. Like the house had been built to serve a purpose, but never for a person.
He reached the top step just as he heard the baby girl’s soft fussing from down the hall. The sound made him hesitate. It wasn’t the sharp, desperate cries from the night before. This was softer, almost a coo, the kind of sound that made something in his chest tighten before he could push it down.
Carefully, he stepped forward, peering into the nursery.
Leela stood by the cradle, one hand rubbing slow, absentminded circles over the baby’s tiny stomach. It was almost an imitation of what he’d done the night before, but the difference was clear—where his movements had been firm, knowing, hers were unsure, like she was following a set of instructions she didn’t quite understand.
She looked different in the daylight. Dressed neatly in a long, thin nightgown that fell to her ankles, her black hair was left loose, unbrushed, hanging past her hips in uneven waves, obviously never seen the business end of a scissor. The exhaustion was still there—was part of her, woven into how she held herself—but her face was smoother, her shoulders less rigid, like she had settled into something.
The floorboard groaned beneath his boot. Leela looked up. She even tried for a small smile. A little, ghostly quirk of her lips.
“Hello, Joel.”
He didn’t respond. Something about how she looked at him, or maybe how she looked past him, unsettled him. He didn’t like feeling that way—not in someone else’s home, not when he was meant to be in control of the situation. Instead of answering, he stepped toward the cradle, glancing down at the baby.
The baby girl let out a high-pitched whine, stretching, her fingers curling and uncurling before she kicked her little legs. Then, as if noticing him, her mouth widened into a gummy, toothless grin, her round face alight, untouched by the world’s cruelty.
Joel couldn’t help himself. His lips twitched, just slightly, before he shook his head.
“Managed to—?” He gestured vaguely toward her chest before pulling his hand back, curling it into an embarrassed fist against the cradle.
Leela caught on. Her fingers twitched at the pearly buttons of her nightgown. Just a small, involuntary movement.
“Oh… Maria told me to hold her close to stimulate… you know.” She hesitated, shifting her weight. “I fed her one of the bottles she gave me, too.”
Joel nodded. “And?”
Leela looked down at the baby. “She stopped crying.”
He frowned. “That’s it?”
Leela’s fingers tightened against her arms. “I… don’t know how to hold her without making her cry.”
The words made something dark flicker through him, he didn’t have the energy to name it. It wasn’t quite anger, but it was close. Frustration. Exasperation. A sharp-edged bitterness he couldn’t swallow down fast enough.
Joel scoffed. “You can’t hold your own baby?”
Leela looked away, her heart breaking in her eyes before she managed to mask it.
Joel exhaled, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “It’s not all math,” he muttered.
He didn’t wait for her to answer. Instead, he reached into the cradle, slipping a hand beneath the baby’s head, cradling her against his arm, careful, practised. He eased her up, letting her body settle against his forearm, her head resting in the crook of his elbow.
The second she was in his arms, something inside him cracked.
She was tiny. So fucking tiny. Tinier than Sarah had been.
Joel swallowed thickly, feeling the light weight of her against his chest. He hadn’t held something this fragile in years—hadn’t let himself. But muscle memory took over before he could stop it before he could remind himself that this wasn’t the same. It was already clawing its way back to him. He rubbed a slow, steady hand over her back, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. She was warm and soft, her tiny fingers twitching against his shirt.
For a second—a half a second—he let himself sink into it.
“Hi, baby girl,” he whispered.
The scent of her, like the faded remnants of old cotton, the delicate press of her body against his. A ghost of something long lost. A time when his arms had been full like this when his days had been nothing but cradling Sarah against him, balancing a baby bag on his shoulder, and pushing a stroller down the sidewalk, filled with groceries, with the Texas sun overhead.
A different life. A different world. One he had no business remembering.
Joel forced himself to blink out of it. He cleared his throat, shifting, pressing the feeling down before it could take hold.
“And that’s it,” he said gruffly. “Ain’t that hard.”
Leela was watching him. Not like she was waiting for him to say something—not like she even expected him to. She was watching the way he held the baby, the way she settled so easily against him. Studying him, the way she studied numbers and equations, looking for a formula, an answer.
He breathed out. “Here,” he muttered, shifting the baby carefully toward her. “You try.”
Leela didn’t reach for her baby immediately.
Her hands hovered, hesitant, fingers twitching like she wasn’t sure how to move them. Joel could see it—the tension coiling in her shoulders, the stiffness in her posture. Her breathing shallowed, her chest barely rising, as if even that movement might disturb the delicate balance between her and the tiny life in front of her.
But finally, she forced herself to move.
Her hands, unsteady, cupped beneath the baby’s body as if she were handling something breakable, something foreign. It was careful, but too careful—unnatural in a way that the baby could sense. And sure enough, the second Leela pulled her in, her arms locked tight, too rigid, too unsure, and the child stirred. A tiny whimper. Then a sharp, warning cry.
Leela stiffened, her grip faltering. The sound made her flinch, her breath catching, as though she’d been struck.
She barely lasted five seconds before her resolve cracked. She was already shifting forward, already pushing the baby back toward Joel, who took her without hesitation.
The crying stopped almost instantly.
Joel settled the baby against his chest, bouncing her gently, a practised movement. He didn’t have to think about it—his body just did what it knew, routine kicking in where hers faltered. The baby let out a soft, sighing coo, her tiny body relaxing, as if she knew she was back in capable hands.
Leela, however, looked shaken. Not in a dramatic way—she wasn’t crying, wasn’t breaking down—but her hands curled into fists, pressing against her stomach like she needed to hold herself together.
Then, she winced.
Joel’s attention snapped back to her, his gaze dropping to the way she clutched at her lower back, her body tilting forward ever so slightly like the pain had taken her by surprise.
“Hey.” His voice softened. “You wanna sit down?”
She nodded, barely. A tiny dip of her chin.
Joel glanced around. There wasn’t much in the nursery. Just the crib, a long wooden bureau, and a mattress on the floor pushed against the far wall. No chair, nothing to lower herself onto easily.
With a quiet sigh, he adjusted his hold on the baby and stepped closer, offering an arm. “C’mon.”
Leela hesitated. Not out of pride—he could tell—but maybe out of uncertainty like she wasn’t used to being helped. But when she tried to move on her own, another sharp grimace crossed her face, and that was enough.
She let him guide her.
Joel was careful, supporting her weight without making a big deal of it. The baby stayed nestled in the crook of his other arm, still resting peacefully, unaffected by the movement. It wasn’t easy—manoeuvring both of them at once—but it was instinctual.
He helped her lower onto the mattress, feeling the way her muscles tensed beneath his touch before finally giving in to the pull of exhaustion. Leela eased back against the wall and settled into the thin cushion. A long, quiet sigh left her lips, her posture unwinding slightly like she’d been holding herself taut for hours—maybe longer. But even then, she still didn’t entirely relax.
Joel watched as she lifted a hand to her face, brushing back loose strands of hair, her fingers pressing briefly into her temples.
"I'm sorry, Joel."
He frowned. “For what?”
She inhaled deeply. “It’s only been three... four weeks since I delivered. I’ve just been feeling out of it ever since.”
There was no shame in her tone, no self-pity. Just a quiet fatigue. A statement of fact.
Joel pressed his lips together.
Four weeks. Jesus. That explained a lot. The exhaustion, the stiffness in her movements, the way her body still seemed like it hadn’t recovered from what it had been through. Hell, no wonder she looked like a ghost of herself. The human body wasn’t meant to bounce back that fast—not without help. And from what he’d seen so far, she wasn’t the type to ask for it.
“She came too soon,” he muttered, almost to himself.
Leela shifted, tilting her head slightly toward him. "Eight months," she said, voice softer now. "That’s not normal, is it? It’s why she’s so tiny."
Joel didn’t answer immediately. Leela waited, like she wanted him to say more. When he didn’t, she tucked her knees up onto the couch, resting her chin against them.
She rubbed a tired hand into her eyes. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
There it was. Not frustration. Not helplessness. Just quiet, resigned truth.
Joel glanced down at the sleeping baby, still curled against his chest, her breathing soft and even. One tiny hand had fisted itself into his shirt, gripping instinctively—like she knew, on some level, that she had to hold on to something, someone, to stay safe. His grip on her tightened slightly.
Leela’s words sat heavy in his chest. I don’t know how to hold her without making her cry. And now this—I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. He’d heard new parents say those words before. Hell, he’d felt it himself, back then. But something about the way she said it—flat, detached, like she wasn’t even fighting it anymore—made something inside him go stiff.
Joel breathed out, shifting his arms so the baby settled more comfortably against him, and she felt so heavy all of a sudden.
Too much quiet, too many things unsaid pressing at the edges of his mind. He didn’t want to sit in it—didn’t want to acknowledge what it stirred in him. So, he broke the silence the only way he knew how.
"You could start by giving her a name," he said, glancing at Leela. "Not that 'baby girl' is a terrible name."
Leela blinked, then looked down at her daughter, studying her as if she were just now realizing that, yes, she still had to name the kid.
After a thoughtful moment, she lifted her gaze back to him. "Do you want to pick one for her?"
Joel snorted. "Me?"
She nodded, entirely serious.
He shook his head. "I think I'm gonna stick with 'baby girl.'"
Leela let out a small breath of laughter, barely there, but it softened something in her face. She bit her lip, thinking of a name, then murmured, "I always liked the name Maya."
"Maya?" He tested the name on his lips. "I like that. Maya. It’s pretty. Rhymes, too. Leela, Maya."
Leela’s lips twitched at that, and she shifted forward, moving closer without thinking, drawn in by something unspoken. She leaned down, head dipping toward the baby still curled up against Joel’s chest.
And for the first time since he stepped into this house, Joel saw it.
That fondness. It was small, but it was there—the quiet, aching kind of love that didn’t need words. The kind that made itself known in the way her fingers smoothed over the baby’s forehead, tracing delicate lines across her tiny features. In the way her body curled just slightly, instinctively, around her daughter, like even in her exhaustion, she was drawn to protect.
"Maya, Maya, Maya," she whispered, barely a sound, breathing the name into her daughter's ear as if speaking it into existence.
Joel watched her for a long moment, an unfamiliar phantom kick in his ribs. It was too much. Too close to something he didn’t want to touch, something that felt like the past reaching for him with cold fingers.
He should leave. He knew he should. Should’ve gotten up, handed the baby back, given some half-hearted promise to Maria that he’d check in, and then walked out that door.
But he didn’t. Instead, he settled in a little more, stretching his legs out, arms still loosely cradling the child.
He finally broke the silence with, “So, you’re some kind of scientist?”
Leela glanced up at him, a small, tired smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I’m more towards math.”
Joel frowned. Math. In a world like this?
People didn’t survive with numbers. They survived with bullets and knives, knowing when to run and when to pull the trigger. You either killed or died. You either protected or raided. You didn’t see too many folks walking around trying to save themselves with goddamned math equations—unless they were Fireflies with delusions of rebuilding the world. That was the kind of thinking that got you shot.
His gaze flickered back to the crib. What the hell kind of life was she leading before all this?
He leaned back against the wall. “And just how long have you been here alone?”
“A long time.” She didn’t elaborate. Just glanced down at the baby, adjusting the folds of the swaddle with careful fingers. Then, softer, almost like an afterthought—“Not anymore.”
Joel didn’t know what to make of that.
His gaze flicked toward the stacks of books on the baby’s bureau, thick with dust on the edges but well-thumbed through. He hummed. “And you do… math?” He made it sound ridiculous because it was.
She only nodded, unbothered. “Analytic geometry and a bit of mechanics. My parents used to work at NASA. I took up their research once I was old enough to understand. They loved to teach me all about it.”
Joel blinked. NASA? Ellie would lose her little mind if she were here.
He studied her again, reassessing. She didn’t look like someone who used to be involved in something that big. Not now, anyway. Dressed in an old nightgown, her hair hanging in dark, tangled waves, bruised-looking eyes that made her seem older than she was.
He hesitated before asking, “And just how old are you?”
“I’m turning thirty soon.” She didn’t sound glad about it. Then again, no one ever did.
But there was something about that number that made his stomach turn. Maybe because of all her intelligence, all her sharp, clinical detachment, she looked young under the weight of everything she was carrying. Or maybe because twenty-nine didn’t seem old enough to have gone through the kind of hell that made a mother flinch at her own baby.
Joel wanted to press further. Wanted to ask why she was alone, how the hell she had made it this long without the baby’s father, how a girl who could do math for NASA ended up here—malnourished, exhausted, hunched over on a mattress like she was carrying the whole world on her back.
But before he could, Maya stirred.
A small, sleepy movement. Tiny fingers wriggled their way free from the swaddle, barely curled, stretching toward the air. The whimpering started softly, then built, that newborn cry that was both fragile and urgent all at once.
Leela straightened instinctively, her hands twitching toward her daughter. But this time, when she lifted Maya from Joel’s arms, she didn’t hesitate. She held her with a little more certainty, a little more care, cradling her close to her chest as if she were nestling something precious rather than foreign.
Joel let out a slow breath. Good. Progress.
Then, before he could so much as glance back up, Leela started unbuttoning her nightgown, the lapel falling open.
His eyes snapped away so fast it nearly gave him whiplash. “Christ.”
“Oh, god—! I’m so sorry, Maria said to try—”
“’Sall good,” he muttered, fixing his gaze firmly on the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but at her. “Just, uh—go for it.”
“I’ll cover up. Sorry.”
Joel nodded stiffly, still keeping his head turned. But in the silence that followed, his body didn’t quite relax.
He listened. Not just to her, but to everything. The rustle of fabric, the faint, uncertain exhale as she adjusted her hold, the wet, rhythmic sound of the baby nursing, the occasional tiny sigh. A noise so small it barely existed, but it filled the quiet all the same.
Joel let out a breath through his nose, sinking into himself, gaze flickering absently around the room. He took in the details he hadn’t paid much attention to before.
The crib—old, but sturdy. The mess of books stacked against the walls, as if she had been trying to build some kind of fortress out of paper and ink. The curtains were drawn too tight, like she didn’t want the outside world bleeding in. And the emptiness—the distinct lack of anything that made this place a nursery. No toys. No clutter. No warmth.
He knew that kind of space. Knew what it meant when a room felt temporary, even when someone had been in it for years.
“I’m decent now.” Her voice was quiet but certain.
Joel glanced over his shoulder. A blanket was draped over one of Leela’s shoulders, concealing both her and the baby beneath it. His eyes traced over her face, the way she was staring down at Maya—not with the ease of a mother who had done this a hundred times, but with the focus of someone trying to get it right. Like she was handling some delicate equation she couldn’t afford to miscalculate.
The baby suckled noisily, and Joel saw the way Leela’s fingers curled against the fabric, white-knuckled.
"Do you have many children, Joel?" she asked suddenly.
He stilled. The question—simple, almost offhanded—landed like a hammer.
His fingers curled against his knee, tightening. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he’d asked himself that. But coming from her—a woman he barely knew, holding a baby that wasn’t much more than a handful of weeks old—it hit differently.
Did he have many children? No.
But he had one. Had. That word sat on his tongue, sour and heavy, pressing against the backs of his teeth. He could say it. Could let it out, let it breathe. But if he did, it would only linger, thick and unwelcome, in the air between them.
He grunted out, “Not your concern.”
Leela nodded once, quiet and accepting. She didn’t pry, didn’t press—just dropped her gaze back to Maya, adjusting the blanket with slow, careful fingers.
“I understand,” she murmured.
Joel wasn’t sure why, but he believed her. Maybe it was the way she said it—flat, unbothered. Not some empty reassurance, not some half-hearted attempt at sympathy. Just a statement. Honest. And somehow, that made it worse.
Silence settled between them, thick but not uncomfortable.
Joel let out a slow breath and glanced toward the window, toward the faint light filtering through the edges of the curtain. The town was waking up. People were starting their day, going about their lives. Normal. Simple. This? Sitting here in this too-empty house with a woman he didn’t know and a baby who had seen too much of the world already? This wasn’t simple.
Then, her voice—quiet, hesitant.
"Did your baby ever feel like a stranger?"
He turned to look at her, watching as she nursed the baby beneath the blanket. Her head was slightly bowed, her fingers absentmindedly rubbing slow, rhythmic circles against the tiny foot poking free. It was such a small, natural gesture—one he’d seen a thousand times from mothers who loved their children without thought, without hesitation. And yet, coming from her, it felt… disconnected. As if she was mimicking something she wasn’t sure she believed in.
The question settled deep in his chest, pressing against something sore.
"Never." The answer came without thinking. Without doubt.
Sarah had never been a stranger. From the second she was in his arms, slick and tiny and furious at the world, she was his. He hadn’t known what the hell he was doing, but love—love had been instant, bone-deep. A gut punch. A freefall. A terrifying, irreversible thing. It had been impossible not to love his daughter.
That’s how it should feel. But Leela—she looked like she was still waiting to wake up from a dream. Or maybe a nightmare.
Leela exhaled softly, barely a sound, but Joel caught it. It hit him harder than it should have.
"I wish I felt that way," she muttered.
That did something to him.
It wasn’t pity, exactly—Leela didn’t seem like the kind of woman who wanted pity. No, it was a knowing. A recognition of something lost, something stolen before it ever had a chance to be hers. Joel had lost things, too. He understood that kind of grief, even if this one wasn’t his to carry.
Leela had slipped back into that blank, distant sadness, like she was stuck in it, unable to claw her way out. And Joel wasn’t the kind of man who offered words where they wouldn’t make a difference, but Maria had asked him to help, and he’d told her he would. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing. He never had been. Words were never easy for him. Feelings even less so. But he knew how to read people, how to see what they couldn’t bring themselves to say.
So, he did what he could.
"She looks like you," Joel mused, almost without thinking.
Leela hesitated, blinking at him like she wasn’t sure she’d heard right. "You really think so?"
He smirked, nodding toward Maya. "Look at that. The eyes, the nose, the hair. That’s all a mama’s girl."
She glanced down at the baby in her arms, her fingers stilling against Maya’s tiny foot. For a second, something in her expression wavered—like she was trying to see what he saw, trying to find herself in this child. "Mama’s girl," she murmured, testing the words on her tongue as if they didn’t quite belong to her yet.
Joel felt something shift in his chest, just a little.
It was something.
Still, his eyes drifted over the room, taking in the stark walls, the empty corners. The air in here was cold—not from the weather, but from the lack of anything. There was no sign of her in this space. No warmth, no comfort, no life. It felt temporary, like she hadn’t put down roots. Like she was waiting for something.
Or maybe like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to stay.
He exhaled, tipping his chin toward the crib. "Though, she’s gonna be real disappointed when she sees the state her mama’s kept her room in."
Leela’s brows knit together as she looked around as if really seeing it for the first time. "I tried my best. Is it that bad?"
Joel huffed, shaking his head. "It could use a little more work." He gestured toward the crib. "Fix another one of those." Then to the bare space near the window. "Somewhere to sit. Some shelves there." His gaze travelled to the walls. "Fresh coat of paint. Some new lights."
Leela studied him carefully, her lips pressing together. "I don’t want to impose."
He shrugged, leaning back on his palms. "You won't. I like to keep busy."
Leela gave him a look—one of those assessing, sceptical looks he was starting to recognize from her. The one that suggested she wasn’t sure if she could trust him yet. "Are you sure?"
Joel let out a short, dry chuckle. "I was a contractor before the world went to shit, sweetheart. This is a cushy job." Then he cocked a brow. "And I’m fifty-six, not dead."
Leela bit her lip to hide a teasing smile. "Could’ve fooled me."
Joel levelled her with a look, but there was no real heat behind it. "You want me to take that crib back down?"
That did it. She laughed—an actual laugh. Not the polite kind. Not the uncertain kind. A real, full sound, one that cracked through the quietness of the room like sunlight breaking through clouds.
The motion jostled Maya, making her let out a startled cry of protest.
Leela immediately sobered, her expression softening as she adjusted the nursing baby under her blanket, tucking her closer. She began to coo under her breath, "Oh, I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. Mama’s here."
Joel caught it. That shift again. That slight change in her voice when she said Mama. Like she wasn’t quite sure of it yet. But it wasn’t just an obligation or just guilt, or uncertainty.
This time, it sounded like she meant it.
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t push. Just sat back and watched, letting her find her way.
X
Fifteen days.
That was how long he’d been here. How long he'd been wedging himself into a life that wasn’t his, in a house that wasn’t his, with a mother and child that weren’t his to take care of.
And yet, every night, when the baby cried, he found himself plodding up the stairs like it was instinct. He’d lean in the doorway, watching as Leela sleepily nursed Maya, her heavy arms curled around the tiny, wriggling body. Some nights, she fed her from the bottle, but as the days passed, that sipper gathered dust.
It was slow. Subtle. She was feeding her baby more.
And Joel—he was still fucking here. He didn’t think much about the why of it because he figured if he did, it would only lead to questions he wasn’t ready to answer. All he knew was that it felt natural, falling into this quiet rhythm with them. Like it had always been this way.
The couch downstairs became his bed. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but it didn’t matter much. As long as he didn't throw his back out. It was easier than going back to an empty house. Leela, for her part, never asked him to stay, but she never told him to leave, either. Maybe that was her way of saying she wanted him around. Or maybe she just needed him to be.
"You don’t have to—" she had started one night, catching him setting up his makeshift bed.
"I know," he cut off before she could finish.
He kept his hands busy, too. That helped a lot.
The crib came first. A slow project, one he didn’t rush, because what else did he have to do? He sanded the edges and smoothed them down so there’d be no risk of splinters. He reinforced the frame, extended the width, and even managed to track down some pink paint to liven it up.
It was a stupid thing, but it made him feel like he was doing something. Like he was helping in a way that made sense.
Leela had caught him painting one afternoon, crouched over the crib with careful, measured strokes.
"Pink?" she’d said, standing in the doorway, one brow raised.
Joel had glanced up, brush still in hand. "What? You don’t like it?"
Leela had hummed, considering. Then, softer, "I think Maya will like it."
Something about the way she said it—like she was finally thinking about that, about what her daughter would like—made him grin to himself. He continued the long stroke of paint down the crib.
Then there was Leela. It had been easier, at first, to pretend he was only here for the kid. That his concern for her was secondary. But after the first week, it became clear—that wasn’t true.
She was unraveling.
Joel noticed it even when she thought he hadn’t. The unbearable insomnia. The way she startled awake like she was being wrenched from nightmares. The way her eyes stayed shadowed, dark-rimmed and tired, and how she never seemed to eat a full meal.
Just because he tried not to bother, didn’t mean he didn’t notice. She had once fallen asleep at the kitchen table, arms folded beneath her head. Joel had set a bowl of soup down in front of her, the sound making her jolt awake, eyes wide, gasping and panicked.
She blinked at him, disoriented, pushing her unruly hair out of her face. "I—I wasn’t sleeping."
"Alright," he said, pushing the plate closer. "Eat."
Leela wavered, nose scrunching. "I’m not—"
Joel shot her a look. "Eat."
She sighed. But she picked up the spoon.
He didn’t bother to push or pry any further. He stopped himself there. Because what the hell was he supposed to say? He wasn’t Tommy or Maria. He wasn’t the kind of person people confided in. It was better off this way.
So he willfully ignored it. Turned the other way when she wiped her eyes too hard when her shoulders shook just a little when those deep, muffled sobs filtered through the walls at night. Every part of him told him to cross that invisible line—to do something—but instead, he stepped outside, leaned against the stoop, stared at nothing.
One night, he heard it—soft at first, then breaking, like something deep inside her had finally snapped. Anyone reasonable would've gone up to comfort her. Fuck, it was already turning him inside out.
He stood at the bottom of the stairs for a long moment, jaw tight, staring up at the dark landing.
Then he turned around, walked outside, and sat on the porch steps, letting the cold bite into him. Good. He huffed out a wispy breath, quietly waiting for the sounds to pass. This wasn’t his problem.
One unlucky day, the second he stepped into the stables, Ellie gave him a knowing, annoying look. "Jesus, what's worse than shit? Because that's what you look like."
Joel huffed, adjusting his grip on the saddle he was carrying. "Thanks, kid."
Ellie narrowed her eyes, stepping closer and giving him a once-over. "Seriously, you look like hell. Where the fuck have you been?"
Joel grunted, busying himself with the straps, not looking at her. "Been around."
Ellie scoffed. "Been around? What the hell does that mean? You've been busy playing house with the lady at the big house?"
His jaw flexed and fingers tightened on the cords. And Ellie caught it. Her smirk sharpened.
"Oh my God. That’s exactly what you’ve been doing, huh?"
Joel shot her a look. "No."
"Yes," Ellie drawled, crossing her arms. "Dude. I knew something was up. You’ve been MIA. I thought maybe you finally croaked in your sleep, but nope—turns out, you’re off fixing pipes and babysitting."
"I ain’t babysitting," Joel muttered, too quick.
Ellie smirked harder and drawled out, "Riiiight."
Joel let out a long, slow exhale through his nose, shaking his head. "She needed help. That’s all."
Ellie clicked her tongue, rocking back on her heels. "Hmm. Right. Just help. No attachment, no paternal instincts kicking in. Oh, definitely not. Not Joel Hardass Miller. He’s just the neighbourhood handyman now."
He cut her a sharp look. "Ellie."
She grinned, enjoying this way too much. "What? Just saying. It’s kind of adorable. Old man Joel, all domesticated. It's nice."
Joel muttered something under his breath and turned away, ignoring her. Oh, but she was far from done.
"So, uh…" she cleared her throat. "How’s the baby?"
He hesitated.
He hadn’t realized how much he’d started watching that kid. Listening to her. He knew Maya’s different cries now—hungry, fussy, lonely. He knew the way she liked to be held, the way she calmed when he rubbed her tiny back. And he knew, without a doubt, that he would hear her tonight, whether he was there or not.
"She’s uh, good," he said finally. Kept his voice level, unaffected. "Stronger. Sleeps better."
Ellie studied him. "Bet she likes you."
Joel shrugged, trying to play it off. "Babies like warm bodies, Ellie. Ain’t that deep."
Ellie snorted. "Sure. And you're a warm bundle of joy." And then, just when he thought she was about to let it go—"You’re gonna miss her, huh?"
Joel's hands dropped to his sides. Ellie wasn’t teasing anymore. Her voice had gone softer, something knowing creeping in.
And he didn’t answer. Because he wasn’t about to start thinking about that. About leaving. About hearing those cries and knowing he wasn’t supposed to be the one answering them anymore.
Joel slowly adjusted the saddle and grunted. "You gonna stand there all day, or you gonna help me get this horse ready?"
Ellie sighed, shaking her head, but didn’t push. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Dad."
"Ellie."
But she was already cackling her goddamned head off. "This is rich. Daddy Joel."
Still, Joel stayed in that big house. Just a few more days. And the more he stayed, the harder it became to keep his distance.
It had started small—fixing things around the house, making little adjustments to help Leela care for the baby, and bringing her food. He fashioned a sling for her out of an old scarf and showed her how to wear it. At first, she’d been rigid, reluctant. But Maya—baby girl took to it immediately, curling into her mother’s chest, small fingers grasping at the fabric.
Joel wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, but something about that moment had stuck with him.
Because for the first time, he saw Leela hold her. Not just carry her.
And then there was Maya herself. The little ray of sunshine was growing, filling out. No longer that fragile, underfed thing he’d first seen in the cradle. Her limbs weren’t so thin anymore, her eyes brighter, more alert. She’d started watching things with intent—fixating on his hands when he worked, tracking his movement around the room, making little fists and clumsily bringing them to her mouth.
She smiled more, too. And it did something to him. It shouldn’t have.
He shouldn’t have felt that warm pull in his chest every time her tiny mouth curled into something resembling a grin. Shouldn’t have liked the way her whole body wriggled when she was excited. Shouldn’t have let himself get used to the small weight of her when Leela, in her exhaustion, wordlessly passed her to him, and he found himself rocking her without thinking.
But it had happened, slowly and without permission. And now, when he held her, it felt natural.
Maya knew him. Trusted him.
That realization unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
And then, on what must’ve been the third week, Tommy and Maria showed up at the door. Joel knew it the second he opened it—that this was an extraction.
Tommy stood there with that damn smirk, the same one he used to wear when Joel got him out of trouble—except this time, it wasn't his brother who had been looking for a way out.
"You're officially relieved of duty, big brother."
Joel grunted, letting his brother pull him into a quick hug. He clapped him on the back, but his grip was just a little too firm. A little too final. "Didn’t know I was on duty."
Maria stepped in next, squeezing his shoulder, her eyes warm with something Joel didn’t want to name. "Thank you, Joel."
He didn’t say you’re welcome. Didn’t say anything at all. Just gave a small nod, because that was easier than acknowledging the importance of what he’d done. No need to attach importance to what he was walking away from.
He felt Leela before he saw her.
She stood behind them by the front door, her arms loose at her sides, watching but not interfering. She was dressed in a warm sweater and pants this time, although he liked seeing her in that long nightdress of hers, the one with the pearl buttons.
She didn’t say anything. And neither did he. Because there was no point in goodbyes.
Instead, he gave her a nod—brief, almost impersonal—and then he turned, stepping off the porch, his boots heavier than they should’ve been.
Maria’s voice, quiet but clear, carried behind him as she spoke to Leela like she was approaching a wounded deer. "You feeling okay, baby? Come on, let’s talk."
Joel kept on walking. Crossed the street.
And for the first time in fifteen days, he realized—he didn’t want to go home. Because home meant silence. Home meant absence.
Home meant walking into a house where there was no tiny, fussy cry in the middle of the night. No bleary-eyed woman fumbling with a bottle, no soft, small weight curled against his chest when exhaustion finally won out.
For fifteen days, he had fallen into something. A rhythm. A purpose. A role. And now, as he stepped through his own front door, into the empty space that used to feel normal, Joel realized he’d done something reckless. Something he never should’ve allowed.
He’d let himself care.
X
[I really like this one, so much! I love how sweet it turned out, how JOEL of him it is, and how Leela is just that sweet, confused mother. I think I'm going to really love building on this one! ]
[ taglist : @cuntstiel , @bubblegumpeeeach , @evispunk ]
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goddamnitmahtin · 2 days ago
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Danny’s Designer Friend
Okay so hear me out. Danny jumps universes a lot right? It’s a part of running errands for Clockwork. He may be the Ghost king but since he was Clockwork’s mentee at the same time, he had to run time errands sometimes. It took him to some really interesting places.
Some places had magic, some didn’t. Some had heroes that used their own devices and some had heroes that used magical artifacts to manifest abilities. Some didn’t have heroes at all. Some universes had lots of technology and some were working to catch up. And obviously, Danny had his favorites. And he had his favorite people from each.
So…. Danny had an idea.
Bruce looked around suspiciously, alert to any dangers that may be in the area. He and all of his children were on duty when all of a sudden he ended up in a modern mansion of sorts with an indoor waterfall.
“What in the world-?” He heard Tim say as Red Robin appeared as well.
“Oi-!” from a surprised Spoiler as she appeared.
Sword slashing noises as Robin appeared, apparently trying to slice the air, “What is this trickery!”
Next Duke in his pajamas and Nightwing appeared, landing on top of one another. “Get your sweaty ass off me,” Bruce heard his son say as he pushed his older brother off of him.
“GUYS!” Oracle called as she fell. She had teleported in but her chair didn’t seem to have come with her. Red Robin and Spoiler caught her just in time.
Orphan appeared silently.
Then Oracle’s wheelchair popped in, dropping onto Signal just as he had stood up. “Oh come on!” he exclaimed as a post it note apology appeared on his forehead. Presumably for forgetting the chair.
Lastly, Red Hood appeared, guns out and ready to fire. That is, if only he had anything to fire at. He quickly put them away once he realized it was only the bats and birds. The others wouldn’t have noticed it but behind his helmet, Jason was wide eyed, noticing the post it note. He only knew of two entities that used that form of communication and one meant something significantly better than the other.
After a few moments of Red Robin and Spoiler helping Oracle into her chair, footsteps could be heard approaching. Everyone tensed, ready for a fight. Except Red Hood who could feel his core tugging at him familiarly.
Two people approached. First person they were able to see was Danny. He had decided to show up in his kingly glory, his ceremonial cloak billowing behind him. As he got closer, they could see a very short woman with black hair and round glasses smoking a cigarette walking with him. Despite Danny being a king, she was the one in charge.
The woman walked up to the group with a judgmental look, “Every one of you. When I point, you tell me your title and occupation. Go.”
Nobody said anything.
“You guys better do what she says,” said Danny chuckling. Their faces so far were hilarious.
Slowly, the family obliged, starting with Red Hood.
“I go by Red Hood. I’m a crime lord. And a vigilante I guess,” Jason said. He knew enough to know they weren’t in any danger.
The others followed along until finally it got to Bruce, “I’m Batman. Vigilante.”
The short woman scoffed and immediately started pointing out the flaws in everyone’s outfits, “You all look ridiculous! What is that, bunny ears? And you! Red, green and yellow are far too many colors! You look like a traffic light! You! Those shoes are impractical and appalling! Do any of you know what style is?!”
She walked up to Duke, “I have seen photos of your suit and it is disgusting! Too bright!”
She gestured wildly to the group, “And NO CAPES!”
The woman then went up to Red Hood, “You are perfect darling, practical and filled with personality. You are my favorite.”
Danny chuckled, “He’s my favorite too.” The king shot a knowing smirk to Jason who under his helmet blushed from the comment.
“I am designing you all new suits right away!” the woman exclaimed with a wild look in her eye.
Danny couldn’t help but start laughing at this point. The looks on everyone’s faces were pure gold. This was the best idea he had literally ever had.
“I can’t wait to see it Edna. I can pay for it too,” the king said, sneaking a glance at Red Hood, “Anything for future in-laws.”
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highvern · 2 days ago
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Beggin' On My Knees
Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
Genre: fluff, smut, hint of angst, established relationship, biker! hoshi
warnings: pregnancy, impreg/breeding kink, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, praise kink, body worship, spitting, praise kink
Length: ~8k
Note: inspired by the Please, Please, Please MV. this was originally an idea for taehyung but alas my top freak took over again. something about biker/mechanic hoshi really is beautiful thank u @tomodachiii @haologram and @gyuswhore for keeping me sane
summary: After another run in with the law, you come to terms with the fact your friends might be right about your fiancé.
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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Even at your age, it’s somehow more embarrassing to buy pregnancy tests than condoms. You wouldn’t know since you’ve never bought condoms. That particular responsibility falls exclusively on your fiance after the few times in college when you snagged handfuls from the bucket inside the campus clinic.
You’ve bought a pregnancy test before. Not for yourself but for friends too embarrassed to walk into the pharmacy and publicly declare how active their sex lives were. Now you understand why they wanted someone else to do it. Why are there twenty different brands? Why do they require some high school employee to unlock the case so you can pick the one you want? Why are they so damn expensive? The anxiety you feel rivals the first time you bought weed sophomore year of college from some sleazy frat boy.
You’ve got the box resting on the bathroom counter, a timer on your phone, and the test just out of sight while you pace back and forth in the small space. The door is shut for no other reason than to isolate away from Soonyoung in the event he gets off work early.
You should call Soonyoung. He’d want to know, fight the urge to say something stupid like “I’ll try harder next time” when the tests come back negative and instead offer to pee on one in solidarity if only to lighten the mood.
You never understood when people say a woman just knows until right now because with each passing second the reality that those tests are going to be positive sink in. Despite the fact you and Soonyoung almost always use a condom and the times without them end with him coming anywhere not inside you. You just know it.
Each second ticks down like a bomb waiting to detonate.
Positive. Positive. Positive.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Your stomach twists.  Surprisingly, you don’t dread it as much as you would have a year ago. But a million things a baby entails rush over you. Cleaning out the spare room upstairs, doctors appointments, daycare, clothes, school. Do you even know how to actually take care of a kid? One that belongs to you, who you can’t give back to their person when they get fussy or hurt.
Soonyoung was born to be a dad. He never hid how badly he wanted a family of his own, a family with you. He’s good with kids too. You’ve seen him with his nieces and nephews, your friends’ kids. The middle schoolers in your neighborhood come to him with broken bikes and scooters to be fixed, knock on your front door to ask if he can help them get their ball down from some tree. Even if he doesn't know what he’s doing he’d be there by your side.
As the initial shock washes away, the knots in your chest slowly unfurl. You can do this. Even though you planned your life down to the last detail, Soonyoung has a way of sweeping you into his tide. Engagement, marriage, house, babies. In that order. You’ve already got the house before he asked you to marry him and your wedding is only a month away. 
After the worst of the panic settles into restless jitters, you leave the solitude of the bathroom. Soonyoung still isn’t home from work yet but it isn’t unusual. He’s been pulling more hours, shouldering more responsibilities since Mr. Lee, the owner, hinted at a promotion. Glancing at the clock, you guess he’ll walk through the door in two hours which gives you plenty of time to put together something to surprise him.
After a long shower, you burn time by cleaning up non-existent messes; you can’t sit still. The ‘surprise’ ends up being lackluster. Your weekly grocery shopping trip is tomorrow so the fridge is slim pickings for dinner and you make the executive decision to go out once Soonyoung is home. Some fancy restaurant neither of you can afford with tiny dishes designed to leave you hungry and stopping at the diner at the edge of town for a burger. 
While the noise from the TV hums in the background, you scroll through internet searches on what to do when expecting. Doctors appointments, blood tests, advice on budgeting. It’s information overload but you’re giddy even with the stress.. Then you see it. A screenshot from one of your friends. No words, just a photo. 
“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
The longer you stare the quicker the realization becomes a reality. Soonyoung, your Soonyoung, the Soonyoung you’ve been waiting to get home, the reason for three positive pregnancy tests still on the bathroom counter, stares back. Or his mugshot does. A proud stain on the town jail’s website for everyone to see.
Storming out of the house, you notice Jeonghan’s car is gone from his own driveway. Hopefully he’s given your fiance an earful at the station already. If not, you’ve got plenty to say.
Whatever giddy happiness possessed you earlier is long gone, rotten disgust taking its place. How stupid do you look waiting for him at home while he’s gone and gotten himself locked up?
That stupid bike.
It isn’t the first time. That was the initial appeal back when you were a doe eyed freshman, finally out from under your parents thumb with more freedom than you knew how to handle. Soonyoung was the stereotypical bad boy with a taste for fast cars, working in a garage to your good girl persona who set the curve in all her classes. A few drinks at a run down dive bar landed you on his bike in some back alley, a hand under your skirt while he whispered the nastiest things you’ve ever heard. Then you returned the favor back at his apartment, riding him with enough vigor the headboard slapping against the wall sent his neighbors into a fit.
Then came the routine of Soonyoung picking you up from your dorms late at night, staying out until sunrise doing who knows what. He showed you off at street races, called you his girl in front of friends, and would take you out to the lake after winning a race and make you feel like a winner too. 
It was fun. 
Until the calls he’d been out street racing again wore down your patience as your friends’ giddy curiosity turned to embarrassment and ‘I told you so’s. It wasn’t enough to break your heart, but it tore your ego to shreds. They called him a loser and you defended him time and time again because you loved him. Because he promised it wouldn’t happen again.
He promised the last time was the last time. The time before that was also the last time and the time before and so on. 
The parking lot of the police station is nearly empty this time of day; a few police cars and a handful of other vehicles. Otherwise, it sits deserted. 
Jeognhan is waiting for you at the front desk, pretending to type away at something on the computer but you know better. You’ve done this song and dance too many times. 
“What the fuck did he do this time?” 
He quirks an eyebrow, sliding a clipboard with the usual paperwork your way as he speaks. “What do you think?” 
You nearly rip through the paper from pressing the pen so hard as you sign. “You’re fucking kidding me.” 
“Ma’am, language,” a young officer warns.
You’ve never seen him before and the stern look on his face pisses you off even more. His eyes widen in what must be fear because he scrambles back to the filing cabinet at the back of the room without speaking. “I didn’t know you had a new bitch, Han.” 
Jeonghan takes his clipboard back before you can whack him with it. “Nope, that's still your fiancé. Chan, go get Soonyoung from the box.” 
“Tell him I’ve got a hammer in the car for his balls,” you call. 
“Please refrain from making threats inside the police station.”
Soonyoung has the sense to look afraid when he rounds the corner. He’s still in his work clothes, oil stained shirt and dirty coveralls, hair matted to his forehead. You can only imagine what he sees. Last time you picked up he’d still been drunk from a bar fight and you made him sleep on the porch with Jeonghan’s engine as an alarm clock. You’d been too tired to make threats, half asleep the entire time. This time, you feel on the verge of crying, throwing up, and exploding into a fiery rage.
You don’t wait for him while Jeonghan hands over the bag of Soonyoung’s belongings. Halfway to the car, he races to catch up without a word and goes as far as rushing ahead to open the driver's door for you. There’s a fraction of a second you contemplate speeding off before he can get into the passenger seat, let him walk home in the dark as punishment for being a dumbass. But you don’t. You want to yell at him for being a dumbass until your throat bleeds.
The car smells like motor oil and sweat with him so close in the passenger seat. You gag at the stench, rolling all the windows down to avoid vomiting. The last thing you want right now is to need him.
Under usual circumstances the silence hanging heavy in the air would be comfortable, familiar and warm with the golden hue of the sunset and the sound of cicadas not far off. The world holds its breath, but you don’t.
“Do you know how embarrassing it is to find out you got arrested from someone sending me your mugshot?” you ask at the first red light. Soonyoung tries to answer but you cut him off. “No, you don’t. Because I’d never put you in that position.”
He grumbles out the window. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re better than me.”
“You think I’m pissed because I think I’m better than you? I’m pissed because you act like a fucking loser. I’m pissed because you’re a liar! You promised me you wouldn’t do this dumb shit anymore. YOU PROMISED ME. And I look like an idiot because I’m stupid enough to trust you.”
You wait for an excuse. Some honeyed platitude about how much he loves you and it being a mistake and how it’ll never happen again but Soonyoung offers nothing. 
“What do you want me to say?” he asks.
You scoff. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Clearly!” you shriek, the vein in your neck throbbing. “Do you know how it feels to have my friends send me your mugshot? I’m at home tearing my hair out and you’re street racing some kid for kicks.”
“He wasn’t a kid—” 
“I don’t give a fuck!” The edges of your vision scorch red, teeth gnashing. You’ve never been this angry with him. You’ve never been this angry, period. “Grow up!”
He’s lucky Jeonghan caught him and not one of the other officers hell bent on cleaning up the streets. He’s lucky you didn’t have to front bail money neither of you have, especially now. Instead of spending the weekend in jail, Soonyoung’s punishment is fixing whatever Jeonghan sends his way for the next month free of charge but it’s not enough, not even close.
The kill shot bubbles on the tip of your tongue but that last bit of self control keeps it under lock and key. This isn’t how you thought you’d tell him, nowhere close to the way the evening happened in your head before you saw that picture. You wanted to surprise him. Watch the way the news sunk in slowly then all at once. You remember the test you left on the kitchen counter for him to find when he got home before everything went to shit. The ember of rage flairs back to life.
“You wanna race so bad, go fetch!” You don’t think as you rip the keys to that cursed bike from his hands and chuck them out the window into the grassy median, gone in a flash. It’s only a temporary solution but it feels good. It’s the next best thing to taking a bat to his bike until there’s nothing salvageable.
Soonyoung sputters. “Are you crazy?” 
Maybe. You’re absolutely toeing the line of unhinged. The car skids to a stop, tires burning against the asphalt. Thankfully the road is clear of any traffic.
“Get out,” you demand.
“What?”
“Get out. Get out, get out, get out!” You repeat the words over and over until he does what you tell him to. You feel the suffocating tightness in your chest signaling tears are seconds away. 
“Baby, let's talk about this,” Soonyoung begs. He tries to reach through the window, he knows your weak spots too well. You snatch your hand away before he can take advantage.
“You can have this back!” You launch the diamond band right at his chest before taking off.
You get back home on autopilot. There are red lights and stop signs and other traffic laws you can’t remember if you followed but you’re in the driveway and barreling up the porch with shaky breaths. Guilt doesn’t cross your mind for a second. Soonyoung didn’t feel guilty for racing like a dumbass until he got caught, so why should you feel guilty for letting him deal with the consequences? 
The urge to do something mean, not just mean but hurtful with the intent of seeing Soonyoung sick to his stomach, rears its head. If that’s what you wanted then mission accomplished. He saved for a year to buy that ring and you threw it in his face like it was nothing but cheap plastic. The ire from earlier rushes out of you like a deflating balloon. Your fingers itch for a cigarette but unlike your now ex fiance, you have to cut out all your vices. There’s no relief in pacing back and forth. There won’t be any solace inside the house either. You’re so tired. All the highs and lows of the day have drained you of everything. You don’t want to be mad or sad or anything anymore. You just want to go to bed and sleep off the entire day. 
You want to leave but you don’t. You want to yell some more but Soonyoung will be at least another hour. There’s nothing to anxiously clean while waiting so you water the crispy plants on the porch while you wait.
Jeonghan’s cruiser pulls into his driveway across the street thirty minutes later. Still no sign of Soonyoung, not a missed call or text. You think to worry but he gets out of Jeonghan’s passenger seat and trudges your way.
He looks angry and tired. But your swollen eyes and splotchy face melts the furrow in his brows.
“I’m—”
You silence him with a blast from the water hose. Soonyoung takes his punishment like a man, standing completely still while you douse him from head to toe. 
“I deserve that. Please, just listen to me—” He’s silent with another stream aimed at his chest. You feel some validation seeing him embody the way you feel: pathetic. 
“Will you put the hose down so we can talk about this?”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huff, dropping the hose for him to clean up.
“Then I’ll talk and you listen.”
“No.” You head towards the door with no intention of letting Soonyoung inside. “Go sleep at Jeonghan’s, I don’t wanna be around you right now.”
“He already told me no.”
Jeonghan would take mercy on Soonyoung in this state; soaked to the bone with your engagement ring in his pocket.
You turn to face him. “I want you to get rid of your bike.”
Soonyoung stays at the foot of the stairs leading up the porch. He knows how you feel and he has the sense to look ashamed.
“You want me to sell Tammy?” he asks.
“I want Tammy to fall off a cliff into the abyss but that’s obviously not going to happen,” you seethe, blinking away more frustrated tears.
“I have a lot of good memories with Tammy.”
“What? The first time you got arrested? Or the time you fell off and broke your arm? Oh, I know! When you ended up in a ditch?”
“The time I asked you to be my girlfriend. And the time I won enough money to help put a down payment on the house. When—“
“It’s me or her.”
Does it feel juvenile giving your fiance an ultimatum between you and a godforsaken bike? Absolutely. But you’ve got a kid to think about now and the thought of Soonyoung missing their life because he’s too busy chasing the rush makes you sick.
“It’s you.” Soonyoung says it with finality but you don’t believe him.
“Then prove it.”
“I’ll do anything.”
“Sell it. First thing tomorrow morning.”
He laughs bitterly. “I’m not selling my bike.”
“Then I’ll be sure to tell your kid their dad is a fucking loser.” 
He blinks like the words don’t fully set in but your back is already to him by the time they do. Locked inside the house, you lean back against the door. You don’t want him to hear the crack of breath in your throat breaking into hot, wet tears. 
“What do you mean my kid?” Soonyoung’s panicked voice comes through the door. “YN! Open the door!”
“Go away.”
His whispered curses slip through the door while he scrambles for the spare key hidden in the potted plant by the door. If you really wanted him locked out, you would’ve remembered to move it before he got home. Part of you does want him stuck as far away as possible. You don’t want to face him because you know he’ll kiss your tears away and that’s all you want right now. You want him to hold you, promise you everything will be okay.
The lock of the bedroom door clicks into place right as Soonyoung gets the front door open. You hear him downstairs, looking for where you’re hidden. You can plot his course in your head: straight through the living into the kitchen where one of the positive tests waits to greet him on the counter, then he comes racing up the stairs and outside the door.
He twists the doorknob with no success. “YN.”
“Go away,” you sniffle into the pillow. His pillow. You’re on his side of the bed, in one of his old shirts because even if you wish you hated him.  
A dull thud against the door and a sigh signals his departure. You hear him shuffling back downstairs, but the sound of the front door never comes. The fatigue of the day takes over swiftly. Surrounded by the comforting smell of Soonyoung, you fall asleep until the smell of food wafts up through the vents. Not burnt but if Soonyoung is in the kitchen then it’s only a matter of time.
You creep down the stairs, careful to stay quiet so you can sneak back up without getting caught. Soonyoung’s body blocks whatever he’s organizing on the counter but you tell it’s a bribe from the sight of take out bags piled in the trash.
“What’s that?”
“Dinner. Do you want some?”
He’s got an entire pizza with garlic knots and cinnamon twists laid out like a feast. You watch him pretend to be nonchalant but he’s glued to your every move as you approach the counter and shove an entire garlic knot into your mouth, chewing with enough force to warn you haven’t forgiven him yet even though you're close to it. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“Then we won’t talk,” he sighs into the base of your skull, fingers edging beneath your shirt for the comforting warmth of skin on skin. 
“Don’t,” you say, but lean back into the warmth of his body despite yourself.
“I’m sorry.”
Sure he is. You know he means it. Soonyoung is always sorry but it doesn’t stop him from being a dumbass. But he’s your dumbass no matter how many fights you have.
He lets you eat, content to hide his face in your shoulder and his fingers warm against the waistband of your sweatpants. You hate crying and you hate crying in front of him – because of him – even more. The heavy silence of the kitchen and the love of your life clinging onto you like his life depends on it brings a fresh prick of tears. Once you start, you can’t stop. The tears keep coming as Soonyong maneuvers your face into his chest. His new, clean shirt turns into your tissue. You fall into him without hesitation.
“Are you really…” he asks quietly, dropping kiss after kiss against your hair while you wring out like a sponge. 
“Do you think I’d lie to make you feel bad?”
“No. I just—fuck. You’re pregnant.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“How do you feel?”
You blow your nose into his neck. “Like I wanna punch my kid’s dad in the nuts.”
“He probably deserves that.”
“He definitely does.”
“And he deserves to sleep outside.”
“Yep,” you nod.
“But you still love him?”
“Of course I do, you big idiot,” you sigh, leaning back to look at him. Mistake. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” His brow presses to yours, face rounded out, soft cheeks that make you want to scream. Brown eyes shine beneath his lashes. Soonyoung knows exactly what he’s doing. 
“I’m still mad at you.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
You don’t but things would be a lot easier if you did.
Soonyoung takes the silence as an admission, and when you don’t object he falls to his knees, pulls your shirt out of the way and presses his face into your stomach. “We should name it Donatello.”
“No.”
“Leonardo.”
“No,” you giggle despite yourself.
“Raphael.”
“You are not naming our baby after a Ninja Turtle.”
“Mojo Jojo Jojo.”
“No.”
“Thanos.”
“Stop!”
“You’re laughing?” Soonyoung gasps, rushing to his feet to pin your squirmy body between him and the counter’s edge. “I’m trying to have a very serious conversation and you’re laughing?”
“You’re an idiot.”
“And you love me.”
You nod, hiding back into his chest where it’s safe. “Yeah, I love you.”
The silence marinates between you. 
“I’ll sell the bike, promise.”
“You’re not the best at keeping promises.”
“This time is different.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want our kid to grow up thinking their dad doesn’t worship the ground their mom walks on. Because I know she’s way too good for me and I’m lucky to have her.”
“I’m not too good for you, I hate when you say that.”
“You called me a loser.”
“I said you acted like a loser and I won’t take that back.” 
He looks away. “That’s fair.”
The icy wall of hurt freezes back up but you’re too tired to drag on the fight any longer. “When I found out my reaction wasn’t ’oh he’s being stupid.’ It was ‘how would I tell our kid their dad missed their birthday because he got himself locked up.’ That’s all I could think about. Explaining to our kid over and over why you’re never there.”
The words rest like a wet blanket over his flame of excitement. He doesn’t want to be that kind of dad; the one who misses their child’s life for something as stupid as street racing. Who leaves you to pick up a broken heart time and time again, two broken hearts.
You’re at arms length, Soonyoung examining you like a puzzle he can’t figure out but wants to try anyway. You hate when he looks at you like that. Like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen and he can’t quite believe you’re real. “You’re gonna be a great mom.”
“Shut up.” You hide the blush staining across your cheeks with another slice of pizza. 
“You are.”
“Well,” you swallow. “I need you to be a good dad. And if you can’t then I’m not afraid to do it by myself.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
“Can I talk to it?”
“If you want to.” You don’t tell him that the thing growing in your womb curiously of him is the size of a pea and doesn’t have a face, let alone ears. You want to hear what his first words as a dad are.
He rucks your shirt up higher until it’s bunched beneath your breast, stomach on full display for him to bury his face into. 
“Hi. I’m your dad,” he starts timidly. You bite back a smile at his earnestness. “I don’t usually make your mom this angry. Usually, she’s pretty happy with me.” His lips brush your stomach with each word, tickling them into your skin. “I hope you take after her. She’s smart, and she’s pretty. God, she’s so pretty. I remember the first time I saw your mom and I knew I wanted to marry her.”
You snort. “You did not.”
“Yes, I did,” he corrects. “We were at this bar. You’re not allowed to go there. Ever. Maybe when you’re thirty or I’m dead. But I remember seeing her when she walked in and I thought ‘that is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and if she talks to me, I’ll throw up.’ I still feel like that sometimes. Even when she’s mad at me. And then when I got the courage to talk to her, I didn’t throw up because your old man is cool.”
Your heart swells too big for your chest. The night you met him wasn’t the stuff of fairytales. You saw him across the bar, all blonde hair and ruby cheeks as he screamed with his friends. He did throw up the first time you talked to him. After an hour of riding him until it hurt, you melted boneless in his lap and he snuck away to the bathroom to toss the used condom. You faked asleep as he emptied his guts into the toilet bowl before crawling back to bed and begging for cuddles. Pure romance.
“So cool,” you tease.
Soonyoung laces your fingers together, nipping at your fingertips in protest. “Your mom is mean to me but it’s okay because I love her. You’ll love her too. I just hope you’ll love me.”
You fight the urge to cry, only a single tear streaking down your cheek before stopping. “They’ll love you.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so.”
“How?”
“Because I love you and I’m very smart. Remember?”
“I did say that, didn't I?”
You hum in agreement, pulling him up your body to nudge his nose along yours. 
“I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you.” You let him shower you in gentle touches, his hands smoothing up your sides. Soonyoung traps you between his body and the counter, his lips sweeping over your chin, your jaw, your covered chest. That’s when you feel it. “What are you doing?”
“Apologizing.”
“Feels a lot like your penis to me.”
“That’s a part of the apology,” he whispers, the weight of his cocky heavy against your thigh, harder with each controlled grind. “Can’t believe I knocked you up and I never even came inside of you.”
“I can. You talk about kids so much I bet you manifested this.”
“You want it though, right?”
“Yeah.”
You’re lifted onto the countertop, legs spread around his hips. He’s got one hand wedge between your ass and panties to keep you close. “Do you think I’ll be a good dad?”
Not the conversation you thought would happen while you’re tugging his shirt off and working at the tie in his pajamas pants but you humor him.
“I think you’ll be a great dad.” You kiss him gently. His lips, his nose, his cheeks that round in your favorite smile. “If you stop getting arrested. How are you gonna ground Michaelangelo if you keep getting in trouble too?”
“She’s gonna be too smart for that. Just like her mom.”
“Oh, it’s a she now?”
“I’ve got a feeling.” He nips at your throat, a sweet flick of his tongue to soothe the sting. “Back to me coming inside you.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Gonna take it all for me?”
Your chin tips back to provide more skin for Soonyoung to mark up. “Want it.”
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he heaves. You’re trapped between a hand against the crotch of your panties and one pawing at your ass like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.
“Take your pants off.”
An amused breath warms your throat. “Someone’s bossy”
“Yeah, and I’m telling you to take your pants off.”
“Yes, ma’am.” 
Shirt gone, sweats pooled around his ankles, Soonyoung stands in nothing but a pair of tenting briefs and the thin chain you gifted him a week after he placed that band on your ring finger.
“Wow, who knew you'd be such a DILF.”
His cheeks tinged pink from the complement. “I’ve been a dad for five minutes and you’re already trying to hit on me.”
“We’re engaged, doofus.”
“Speaking of.” He snatches his pants off the floor, digging through the pockets until a familiar ring appears. “Don’t take this off again.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
He catches your chin between his fingers, pining you in his gaze. “I don’t care how angry you are with me. When I asked you to marry me, I meant forever.”
You can count on one hand the number of times he’s used that tone of voice with you. Soonyoung doesn't get angry often; at least, not with you. The last time he talked to you like this was when you wandered on the wrong side of town late at night, alone and drunk without a way home. You were pissed about a grade and wanted to do something reckless like every other kid at your university got to. Luckily, Soonyoung found you before trouble could. He used the same tone to chastise you for an hour about how stupid you’d been. 
But he isn’t just mad at your antics. He’s scared too. You look at him — really look at him for the first time since this morning when you kissed him goodbye before work. Red eyes, lip bruised, not from kisses but the way he chews it when he’s anxious.
“I’m sorry.” You pull him back, arms wrapped so tightly around his torso he probably can’t breathe and you both like the certainty of it. The tension in his shoulders softens like candle wax but he doesn’t let go. 
There’s still the matter of damp underwear and his boner. You want him, the gnawing aching way you always want him. Between your legs, stroking your sensitive spots to life over and over again until you beg for mercy he’s too eager to deny.
You nose against his cheek, adoring kiss after kiss against his skin until mouths meet. Soonyoung slips his tongue between the seam of your lips. You feel it the way down to your toes. On instinct, your hand trickles down his front, wedged tight between your bodies to paw at the fabric. A few dry jerks is all it takes for him to unravel.
“Wait,” Soonyoung gasps, hips rutting into the tight squeeze.
He keens with another tug, neck flushing a pretty shade of pink. The linoleum bites into your knees before you mouth over his underwear for a taste of what's to come. You suck the head through his underwear before leaning back to tease him with a kiss.
“Bedroom.”
“Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d refuse a kitchen blowjob,” you snicker.
Soonyoung doesn’t laugh. He pulls you back up into a bruising kiss, biting at your lip until you’re sure it’s bruised. His hand gropes down your ass, fingers tight to your entrance from behind. Whatever he wants like this you’ll agree to.
“Want you on my mouth.”
You’d kneel over his face right here on the kitchen floor if he wanted. But knowing your fiance, his sights are glued to whatever fantasies boil beneath that blond hair of his. 
You race up the stairs, Soonyoung hands heavy on your sides. His thumbs press into the bare curve of your hips. Your clothes fall until just your underwear remains. You want to turn around and mount him on the steps but the second floor landing is close enough you don’t get a chance. 
Soonyoung flicks all the bedroom lights on, eager to see every part of you as you crawl up the bed on all fours in nothing but your underwear. A few years ago you wouldn’t dream of sex with a lamp on let alone the overhead light but years of his utter devotion to your body and wanting to watch you get off like it’s his very own miracle gave you confidence. He looks ready to jump out of his own skin at the doorway. You glance over back and arch your spine a little more, ass higher in the air for his viewing. You might just finger yourself like this to see him suffer. You’ve done it before.
You stretch out, naked chest on display. “Are you coming?”
“Fuck yeah, I am.” Unconsciously, he palms his cock and approaches the side of the bed, pulling you into a kiss with a heavy lick of his tongue.
It doesn’t take much to drag him on top of you, dick hot to your thigh, perfect to rut against. There’s too much Soonyoung to think of anything else. His hands pinning you in place, his breath fanning across your chest as he suckles across the slope of your breast, thighs surging between yours in a dry hump you can’t help but beg for more of. His hips stutter when you do.
He follows the same playbook you did earlier; fingers trailing to the wet patch of your wants, mouth following closely. You’re in for a treat when he’s on his knees like this. He wants to tease you the way you did him but Soonyoung isn’t committed to denying you anything, he wants to rake you over hot coals by giving too much. 
Your hands eagerly hook beneath your knees, legs spread wide before him like a feast..
“Taste so good,” he rasps with a soft suck at your clit. “You’re so hot.”
Even with the barrier of your underwear each lick lights you on fire. Soonyoung moans a lewd melody, lost in his own paradise. Your thighs twitch with each gentle prod at your entrance, folded away by his shoulders so he can touch as much as he wants.
The promise from earlier lights up your brain. You twist a tight grip in his hair, pulling hard enough to detach him from your body. Lips wet, eyes blown, Soonyoung tries to dive back down until another twist of your nails makes him wince.
“Call Jeonghan.”
His mouth may be gone but his fingers circle your clit in the way that makes you whine. “What?”
“Call. Him,” you command. 
You snatch your phone from the end table, forcing it into Soonyoung’s grasp. He still doesn’t understand what you’ve asked.
“Sell him the bike right now.”
“Now?” He looks down at your pussy still on display, underwear soaked in spit and arousal.
You nod. Soonyoung knows better than to argue. He’s back in your good graces but only just, the promise of shipping that infernal bike off to someone else keeping him afloat. 
Your body throbs for release, for his mouth to go back to work instead of whispering into the phone when Jeonghan answers. 
“Two grand? Bullshit! There's at least…” he trails off.
You’re not going to stop just because he’s busy. You grab your breasts, taunt nipples visible between your fingers. Clad in a pair of sticky panties and nothing else, you’ve reduced him into a stuttering mess. Any other night he’d already be smothering himself in the wetness. You can see the urge in his gaze as he swallows loudly.
“Four,” Soonyoung counters. His face twists between wanting to argue with the neighbor, brows furrowed, lips in a heavy pout, and watch in awe as you suck on your own fingers before pinching at your chest again.
You’ve got him distracted with a hand between your legs, pushing your underwear out of the way to flash him exactly what he’s earning. Flushed and wet, the smell of sex hangs in the air.
“Thirty-five,” his voice cracks as you spread your legs wider, pulling his hand right where it belongs.
Soonyoung bats your hands away, fingers twisting through your heat. A gentle prod at your entrance like he hasn’t mastered your pussy enough to make you stupid and strung out with a few touches. There’s no way Jeonghan can’t hear every pleased sigh, the wet noise echoing from your pussy, the annoyance in Soonyoung’s voice as they barter back and forth. 
Soonyoung leans over and spits where his fingers disappear, making you jolt with the force as he does it again. You nearly ask him to spit in your mouth just to see his eyes bulge but the opportunity disappears with the sound of Jeonghan’s cackle through the line.
“Fine, three. I’ll give you the keys tomorrow.” He ends the call, forces your hand out of the way, and eagerly makes up for the minutes lost.
Both of your hands find the soft strands of his hair to hold him in place. Your feet plant on the bed beside his wide shoulders, allowing you to hump his face pathetically only to be welcomed with a grunt. The rip of fabric registers right before what was once your underwear is left stretched across the middle of your thigh. 
“S-shit, don’t stop.”
His fingers spread for his tongue to lick between. You punish him for such a dirty move with a harsh pull of his hair that he loves more than anything. Soonyoung does what he does best: groveling for your forgiveness. You’ll give it to him like always. But you both want him to work for it; it’s better when he does. 
He spreads your legs wider, gives a pleased grunt when you hold him in place and grind into his mouth. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant; vision blurry, body on fire.
Soonyoung moans into the sloppy mess of your pussy, sucking your clit between his lips, wedging another finger between the two already ruining you. 
“Oh god—there.”
Your thighs crush his head but he forces them up and open, pinned in place. The tender glow of the end escalates into a scalding burn as it rips through every muscle. You clench so tight around his fingers he can’t move them more than a tight curl. When you cry at the overstimulation he finally rests.
“Did you just—”
Pins and needles ripple through your muscles and all you can do is nod. Once the initial shock fades, there’s a smug twitch of his lips. He catches your foot and pins it before you can kick him.
“Shut up.”
“Have I told you how much I think about you being pregnant?” he asks, watching your every move.
You shake your head. His fingers keep working in gentle strokes, the wet noises quieter than before but loud in your ears. 
“It’s a lot,” he grunts. “Fuck, you’re gonna be so sexy.”
“I’m not already?” you half laugh, half gasp. The spark of arousal already demands more so you rock your hips down despite the sensitivity.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“But I’m not sexy?”
“Don’t pick an argument with me right now, please,” Soonyoung begs. 
“Why?”
“Because I’m thinking about coming in you until you can’t take anymore.”
“Then I’ll be sexy?” you goad.
“You’ve always been sexy.” He punctuates the compliment with a kiss to your left hip bone. “Beautiful.” Another on your right. “Gorgeous.” One on the plush of your thigh. “I love you.”
He folds you in half, knees to chest like you possess the flexibility to stay there, ankles cuffed in his hand, lips hot on the back of your thigh. 
“We should fuck on the bike one more time,” you tease. 
“You want me to defile the mother of my child on a motorcycle?”
You moan at his words. You want him to come wherever he wants, as many times as he can. Until he can’t anymore. To feel nasty and used however he sees fit. You want him on top of you, behind you, bending you over every surface he can until you’re shaking.
“You’re about to defile me right here. W-what’s the difference?”
Soonyoung curls the fingers inside you tight, eyes glued to the way you heave before answering. He fucks into that spot that makes you his puppet and all you want is to ruin him the same way he ruins you with the slightest touch. “You said I should stop doing things that’ll get me arrested.”
You choke on another tease as he sucks on your clit, tongue coaxing pathetic sighs right out of your lungs. He could do this all night. He’d be happy to. Soonyoung grips you tighter as you squirm away. It’s too much. He knows it and that’s why he loves it so much, knowing he can make you cum hard enough to scream.
“Are the cameras still broken at the garage?”
“Yeah,” he grunts, already knowing exactly what you’re thinking.
“Then you can defile me at your place of business, over the bike. Just like old times.”
“No condoms.”
“How else are you gonna stuff me full of cum?”
Soonyoung groans, pushing your legs wider as his hips rut into the mattress. “Wanna come inside you.”
“Then get up here and do it.”
You’re soaked between the legs, sensitive and swollen. Soonyoung settles into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing his cock into the wet mess of spit and arousal. Your body acts of instinct, hips tilting until he slips between your walls.
“Oh my god.” He laps at the swell of your breast. “‘S okay?”
“Yeah, they don’t hurt yet.”
The sharp edge of his teeth leaves lines across your skin while he sucks at your chest until your spine breaks in half. His fingers keep firm pressure against your clit. Sloppy but enough to keep you pulled taunt. You’ll come a second time if he keeps it up.
“Oh my god,” you echo. 
Soonyoung likes to fuck hard. Hard enough you feel like all your seams are splitting, just shy of shattering your limit. Now’s no different but there's a new edge of caution. Even with his hips flat, inside you until nothing is left to give, he tangles your fingers together and pins them over head in the pillows.
You push your body against his, needy and pliant. Blind want acting as a guide, your ankles lock around his waist. It feels so much better than all the other times he’s fucked you like this; knowing the risk of him coming inside no longer counts and he can do it as many times as you ask. 
The slap of your skin against his fills the room, grunts and pathetic whines passing between mouths with narrowed vision. Nails biting into his shoulders, you flutter tight, trying to pull Soonyoung deeper even if he’s snug to the hilt. Stretched full beyond belief.
“More,” you beg. Frantic. Needy. All those feelings Soonyoung can incite with the barest of touches and a look.
He rises back on his hands, lighting up with each pathetic whimper of his name. “More what?”
If you had the brain power you’d knock the stupid smirk off his face. “Fuck me.”
“I am,” Soonyoung taunts.
“Breed me.”
“Already h-have.” Soonyoung looks like he wants to laugh but he sinks as much weight as he can into his hips, rhythm clumsy but it’s so good you don’t care. “Fuck, such a good girl. Aren’t you?”
You clench around him. He isn’t the most inspired with dirty talk but he knows your buttons, loves to press on your praise kink when you least expect it. 
“Say it.”
“I-I’m,” you stutter from his fingers finding your raw clit. “I’m your good girl.”
“My pretty little wife,” Soonyoung gasps. “Perfect.”
Every bit of praise adds a drop in the bucket, chest tightening until it explodes without permission; shredding through your veins. Your teeth sink into his shoulder. Hard enough to bruise as you cry, “Soonyoung.”
He doesn’t stop for your orgasm, not for a second. You asked him to breed you and it’s his sole purpose until you’re both satisfied. “G-gonna come.”
“Want it, want you to come in me,” you sob.
Soonyoung grabs for your hair, a gentle tug with enough force your eyes open to find his.
“Want it?” he pants, tilting your hips to fuck deeper. You nod with limited room thanks to his grip. “Then take it.”
The sticky heat you’re accustomed to on your skin stains your insides for the first time. There’s no way you can go back. Not after knowing how right it feels to have him fill you. You shiver beneath his weight, nerves twitching from the idea of him doing it again. Immediately.
“Love you, love you, love you…” Soonyoung chants into your skin, lips slipping over your throat with each breathless gasp.
You roll down into the nasty feel of cum and cock, the minor relief not nearly enough. Not with the idea of sucking the combined taste off him rearing its head. But Soonyoung collapses with a point flex of his thighs to stop your motions.
“Holy fuck,” he shudders. “If you let me do that sooner, we’d have ten kids by now.”
You’re flustered at the idea. “Do you think my vagina is a baby rocket launcher?”
“It’s definitely something.”
“How romantic,” you snort. “Give it a few months and I’ll be so hormonal you won’t touch me with a ten foot pole.”
“Is that what you think?” he hums, face still hidden in your neck like he’s too exhausted to move except to lap at the dip in your throat. A subtle grind reminds you of his cock still wedge in your guts, stiff like he didn’t come hard enough to see stars.
It’s hard to think that after so many years together, this is the biggest love rush you’ve ever experienced. The urge to keep him wrapped in your arms for as long as possible brings tears to your eyes. 
Soonyoung pops over your face after the first sniffle, terrified. “Are you crying?”
“No.” You swipe at the tears. “Shut up.”
“Aw, baby,” he coos, failing to hide his amusement.  
“I’m carrying your child, sorry my hormones are all over the place.” You bat his hand away unsuccessfully, leaning your cheek into the comforting warmth of his palm.  “We’re ready for this?”
“I mean, I was planning to knock you up on our honeymoon anyway,” he shrugs, lips soft on your hairline. “Do you have any more of those tests?”
“Why?”
“I wanna see what’d happen if I pee on one.”
“Nothing.” You push him off, rolling onto hands and knees with your ass in the air, face buried in the pillows. “Now, fuck me again.”
Soonyoung pushes the head of his cock through the mess of cum leaking out before sinking back inside with a grunt. “Yes, ma’am.”
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@whrryuu @wonrangwoo @xchaenx @champagnenoona
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meo-eiru · 1 day ago
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Day 2 of Character Trivia Night! Just a heads up, I already tagged it with the necessary tw warnings but I'll be mentioning self harm so proceed with caution
For tonight we have Elias
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Elias has a mother and father, and is an only child
His father is an office worker and his mother is a stay at home mom
He occasionally talks to them when they call him but doesn't actively try to keep a close bond with them
He had short brown hair before meeting you but after doing so he decided to switch to a more flashy appearance to make up for his lack of personality
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He doesn't have a favorite or least favorite food but follows a strict diet to have a body to your liking
He's not a morning person but forces himself to wake up early to spend 1 to 2 hours in the bathroom prettying himself up
Has had the same manager for years but still can't remember his name
He had a few stalkers growing up and was even poisoned once after you two started dating
He was more worried about appearing sickly in front of you than almost dying so when you tried entering his room to check up on him he cried
Talking with a man for more 10 minutes, being alone with one for more than 5 minutes, not returning his calls or messages within 1 minute, not looking at him once for more than half an hour when you two are together and not complimenting him at least 30 times during the day all counts as signs of cheating in his eyes
If you show attraction to another men, such as an idol or celebrity, he'll start mimicking their looks and behavior
He desperately wants to kill the people around you but last time he tried it he almost messed everything up so now he just pretends to be a victim and ruins them socially
He's not such a high ranking model because besides his good looks he lacks presence, but he does have a decent social media following
He doesn't post that often and when he does they are either just photos or a few words, it was enough to gather a small cult following though
He does have a private account he uses to vent, he usually uses it like a diary to write about you but when he gets distressed his posts turn very aggressive
He occasionally does self harm, he doesn't particularly enjoy the feeling but he loves the expression on your face when you see it
He usually uses it as a trick to manipulate you. Once he couldn't contact you for an hour so he just spammed you with pictures of a particularly deep wound and "I'm ending it since you apparently don't care about me" messages.
You had to run to his house only to find him lightheaded from blood loss, but he just greeted you with a smile and hug like his arm wasn't dripping blood
If you can't take it and try to break up with him he'll take it outside, start making a scene, gather a crowd and threaten to jump off until you take it back due to public pressure
He doesn't particularly care about the scars left during these outbursts since he views them as memories the two of you share but if someone else leaves a scar on him, even by accident, he'll have a breakdown and attack the person until someone pulls him back
His favorite dates are the ones where you two just laze around in bed the whole day, open a random show and have sex instead of actually watching it
He's mostly fine with you having your own hobbies and interests but if you seem to enjoy them a bit too much for his liking he'll start throwing tantrums to get you to do them less
He has two moles right above his butt, on the left
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servicpop · 3 days ago
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short n' sweet ♡ valentines day special                            adrien ( delinquent oc ) x student president m reader
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ⓘ fluff fluff fluff ! jealous adrien , reader gets confessed to by a girl
A day where cupid strings his bow and aims his arrow at couples is the day you spend the most time stringing up heart decorations around the school. Its only a few small splashes of pink ribbons and red hearts since Valentines isn't a huge thing—some people simply don't enjoy it as much as Christmas or others—but it's a nice opportunity to liven up the school with some fun flare.
For the most part, you can see cheesy couples receive bouquets neatly arranged into something pretty for their partner or love letters being handed out the old-fashioned way. You weren't a big celebrator seeing as you didn't have a romantic partner. Of course the occasional chocolates being given to friends was a tradition you practised when nobody bothered to give you a flower or a sweet confession.
But this year was different.
After finishing the decorations, you took the time to wander the grounds before returning to your councillor room. It was early enough for the walk to be rather peaceful with the occasional wave to people you knew when they walked by. Reaching the room you, place your hand on the doorknob, twisting it until it makes that click before a hand plants on your shoulder.
“Been awhile.”
You turn your head to see him in the flesh. Adrien, with that shit-eating grin. It was completely out of character for him to show up so early—or show up at all. That fact alone sent shivers down your spine. A coincidence that he shows up bright and early on valentines day?
“Bit late but,” Adrien takes a moment to exhale before his eyes meet yours.
“Will you be my valentines?”
You stand there, blankly staring at him. No flowers, no chocolates and certainly no handwritten love letter stamped with a wax seal as you were wishing for. He couldn't have been this unromantic. For all you knew, Adrien was just some ill-mannered guy who weaseled his way into your life thinking he had you wrapped around his finger just because you two 'hooked up' underneath the staircase.
“No.” Short and sharp; unintentional or not. Sure you liked him, a little more than you'd ever wanted to admit, but Valentines was meant to be unrealistically romantic, a day where you can feel like you're living in those old romance films.
“What?” You could hear the confusion in Adrien's voice as he watches you brush past him and slam the door infront of his face, drowning out his complaints through the door.
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That whole ordeal in the morning definitely wilted your mood. The entire morning session of classes felt like a drag as if time was purposefully going slower each time you glanced at the clock.
You were probably the first person to leave the classroom when you were dismissed, rushing out to your locker to reunite with your friends in hopes of charging your social battery.
“Hey— prez? I have, um, something for you.” The nickname felt like deja vu, like you've been called it countless times by a certain someone. But it wasn't him; it was a girl around your age or even younger. In her hands was a square, pink box with 'milk chocolate' printed in a cursive font. Her face was flushed pink and it looked as though if she met eyes with you, she'd melt under your gaze. On top of the chocolates was a pretty letter with equally pretty handwriting.
It undoubtedly made you smile even if it was just a little.
You accepted her gift, making sure you flashed a polite smile at her before watching her scurry off like it had been the hardest thing of her life to come up to you like that. It was charming in a way. You skimmed the letter which was mainly just her stating her appreciation for you and how she wanted to get to know you better with her name signed at the bottom with a small heart next to it.
A few of your friends who had just made it out of class had witnessed the whole scene, patting your back and pawing at the chocolates like hyenas. It wouldn't hurt to share the love, especially when your friends seemed like they'd die without sugar.
You let them all take one before sealing the box and placing it in your locker for later, you pocketed the note just so you didn't accidentally lose it or have it slip out.
Come to think of it, the more the day went by, the more you noticed a lack of Adrien. Usually he'd make an appearance by now, whether that was to stare at you with a smirk while you walked by eachother or to 'accidentally' brush your arm on any opportunity he got.
You made nothing of it though, it was probably because he thought today was boring—given all the couples would boast their affection towards eachother in the hallways—and decided to skip. It was typical of him to do so. But it still weighed in your mind all the way until the home bell rung.
Your locker was the last stop before you could go home, opening the metal door to see that your box of chocolates were gone; replaced.
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Godiva chocolates in the shape of a heart, a letter sealed in an envelope, and a bouquet of flowers that look strangely like the ones from the school garden was neatly arranged in your locker.
“Do you like it?” You practically jump out your skin as your turn to see the man you haven't seen the while day.
“You put this here?” You ask, looking back at the gifts stuffed in your locker.
“Who else would— nevermind don't answer that.” You could tell from the furrowed set of his eyebrows that he was pissed off about something, like it bothered him enough to replace the chocolates you were given.
“I thought that maybe you didn't like how forward I was this morning.” It was one of those rare occasions where Adrien wouldn't have that cocky look on his face or that teasing lilt to his tone. He wore an almost shy expression, like he wasn't used to giving gifts this romantic.
“Seeing as you liked that girl's gift so much.” You could hear the venom roll off his tongue when he said that.
You glance down at what Adrien gave you. Godiva wasn't a cheap brand and those flowers would probably have taken Adrien awhile to personally pick and choose the ones you liked to plant in the gardens. Your heart flutters at the thought that maybe Adrien was gone the whole day because he was trying to pick up gifts for you, all cause he felt a little guilty.
“I know its over the top but—” “I like it.”
He pauses and stares down at you like its the most baffling thing in the world to hear you say 'I like it.' You look up at him, and you can't hold your smile back—this time, you smile wholeheartedly.
“Thanks, Adrien,” You look both ways to see if anyone was watching and you lean up to kiss just shy of his lips on the corners of his mouth. It was a quick peck as you almost instantly pulled back to pack up your things and walk past him.
He stands there, frozen in place before his own fingers touch his face, grazing over the spot you kissed him at.
There's a sharp bang of his fist against the neighbouring lockers as he internally crumbles, holding his face like he needed to shield what was left of your fleeting kiss.
A victory perhaps?
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a / n ; dividers made by anitalenia , and the gift graphics are made by my dearest anby !
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xo2dee · 1 day ago
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NOW LOADING. .
JJK MASTERLIST
ROCKET SKATES
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PAIRING: Nanami Kento x (Fem)Reader WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Degradation, dirty talk, thigh riding, vaginal fingering, edging, orgasm delay/denial, finger sucking, some spanking, slight panty kink, public sex, vaginal sex, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of blood and violence (it's not done to either reader or nanami). WORD COUNT: 10,469 SUMMARY: It’s not often you get nice, cutesy dates with Kento, but it’s also not often they get ruined... Yet in your favor.
A/N: i wrote this back in 2021 when i was chronically horny and before my frontal lobe developed and taken the liberty to edit the fuck out of it bc i hated the original LMAO. but pls enjoy this filth <3
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Eyelashes coated in your favorite mascara swept over your eyes in a languid blink as you watched him, his movements nearly too fast for you to comprehend if you didn't already know what to expect.
Him in all his muscled glory hiding underneath that regular, suit get-up he donned nearly every minute he was awake in the day, showcasing the raw, brutal strength he held shadowed within himself as his arm lifted and he all but sent but a mere flick of his wrist and decapitated a curse. Afterwards, he pushed his goggles up, veins in his hand protruding and fingers tight with frustration as he eyed his surroundings in pursuit of any other curses, while you remained rooted to your spot for brief moments being too enamored with his behavior. 
You were too caught on him to pay attention to yourself, a singular thought brimming along your frontal lobe to your fascination and worry over him. 
Something was… off about him.
Nanami Kento was probably one of the best Jujutsu Sorcerers you had ever met (and no, you weren’t being biased and saying that just because he was your lover). He was poised with his abilities, a reserved and perfected angle to how he swung his blade through curses with such deadly precision you wondered if it was his curse technique or just him being him half the time. He finished the job quickly any time he had one, knowing exactly what needed to be done whenever he saw the first curse in his vision and studying their movements for any possible drawbacks. He was an extremely exceptional fighter all on his own anyway, being able to backhand curses (and people) if he so wanted to out of his space and all-in-all having his own advanced knowledge on combat that better helped him get the job done and get it done efficiently.
“Behind you!”
All of that was normal Kento behavior. What you were experiencing at the moment was the very reason you believed something was off about him. Your little dance with curses at that moment was not normal Kento behavior, and that was causing you to drift off and let your brain follow in on him to see if you could pick up what was so odd about him. He was tense, jerking movements of his arm swinging his blade through curses looking choppy and harsh, while the grunts leaving him he normally kept quiet and concealed were loud and groaning as he was heavier on his feet and pouncing around like some hungry predator. He was…
He was aggressive.
“Focus!”
The deep sound of his voice shouting at you after having him dive down and splitting a curse rightly in two for getting too close to you when you had been keeping your eyes on him made you grip up on your weapon more, yet it didn’t stop the shiver curling down each jut of bone along your spine when you nearly could feel the vibration of it and could taste the huskiness of it. He had not been that way all day, only recently whenever you two had been rudely interrupted on your date and had to make room for exorcising curses. Alas – you sighed and watched him run a harsh hand through his hair, him tussling it up even more – you should’ve known something like that would’ve happened.
You always could say it: dates with Nanami Kento were hard to come by, but they were always relaxing and left you feeling wholeheartedly complete afterwards whenever you both got to go on one. Though, you weren’t too sure the ‘date’ you two were on would really be worth it in the end.
Yet, color you wrong once more, it certainly was worth it in the end.
It wasn’t like you had planned for it to even happen. Who the Hell would hope in the middle of a Farmer’s Market date that you two would get attacked by curses and have to clear out the goddamn area and lead them to a more secluded and adept area to exorcise them better? Certainly not you since you rarely got to go on cutesy dates with him and just enjoy his ‘I’m not at work so I can be less strict and less professional with you’ attitude.
That last part wasn’t seeming to be happening at that moment anyway with him huffing out orders and yells at you whenever you slipped up a bit and nearly costed yourself.
You rolled your shoulders back as another lowly curse approached you, twirling your cursed weapon in your hands as you sent a substantial amount of cursed energy through it before you were dashing forward and poising yourself for a strike. You faked to the right whenever the curse provoked, a swift, brutal swing as you heard the wind whizzing through the air in your ear and felt the vibration of when the impact hit it from how hard you had swung. The payoff was worth it in the end, the curse’s head fully unlatching from its body after you pulled through your entire hit with the faint buzzing of adrenaline bubbling up through your veins whenever you felt that thrill from fighting. You stood fully afterwards, lips parted slightly from your breaths and heart loud in your ears as you laid eyes back on Kento who had cleanly cut another curse again in two.
And by your own foolish accord, you were losing focus thinking back to perhaps why he was acting so aggressive.
The day had been fine and so had the date; locked arms with Kento walking around the vicinity amicably with him holding the basket full of all fruits, veggies, greens and ingredients he wanted to use in cooking recipes you liked to listen to him prattle on about because his interest in cooking and food was as adorable as it was sexy. Kento cooked like a dream and you had a reason to tease him to say he could be a professional chef if he wasn’t a professional Jujutsu Sorcerer, to which he’d go on his humble monologue about how his cooking wasn’t all that amazing and he did it to get by and appetize himself. Yeah okay, that’s why whenever you ate his cooking he always would subtly look for your approval and let a sigh of relief when you liked it.
Adorable man.
Nevertheless it was a stark contrast to his fierce attitude with the curses. You had vocally whined and expressively pouted whenever that basket full of ingredients and edibles had been slung away by him rather harshly whenever a curse had gotten too close to you and he straight-up knocked it feet away from you two with a poorly concealed, pissed off grunt by smacking it in the face with the basket. Kento, understandably, was exasperated you had been more worried about dinner more than your own safety, but in the end you sighed while getting serious and listening to him whenever he told you plans were changing and that you two needed lure the curses away from civilians and exorcise them elsewhere.
After all, Kento held up above the safety of civilians, innocents and children more than his own self. And that included you, even though you were perfectly capable of fighting alongside of him easily and he needed to stop jumping in front of you like he had just done beforehand trying to shield you from another curse and then backhanding it away again with tensed muscles and a tensed jaw with a pants-pissing glare.
You liked fighting with Kento (even if it ended up ruining dates, and he sometimes was a bit overbearing trying to keep you safe) as it was energizing and downright adrenalizing whenever you got to fluidly moving around him and along with him. Yet at that moment, despite all the adrenaline and the pent-up aggression you could feel fluctuating off the both of you, there were no words to describe the regret you were feeling for your fashion choice. After flipping through the air and landing on the cracked pavement at one point, your ankle had twisted causing you to stumble and a curse to come flying right at you, but Kento being nearby was already steadying you with one hand first before twirling you both out of the way and then shooting another exasperated look towards you before swiftly slashing the legs off the curse.
“Watch your step.”
Honestly yeah, you got it, wearing high-heeled boots for combat was stupid, but you weren’t dressing for combat. You had dressed for a cute Farmer’s Market date that got fucking ruined, and you were then flipping around in a skirt and heels fighting curses. If you weren’t so annoyed, you’d tease him and say that he probably liked watching your skirt ride up on your thighs and letting him get a peek at your panties, but the man looked like he was about to bust a blood vessel for whatever reason.
Still… you weren’t too used to being rescued like he had been doing for your carelessness, but watching Kento rip off his jacket and completely abandon it on top of a vacant car letting you feast eyes on the harness fitting snugly against his back before rolling up his sleeves showing his forearms that were already firmly coiled up with his veins bulging outwards and him harshly grabbing his tie and unraveling it free of its confines so that he could wrap it around a tight fist…
Or maybe you’d get yourself into more trouble so that he’d come save you and give you that little glare that wrinkled his forehead and made his lips twitch.
No way you were horny just looking at him (then again… look at him). You chalked it up to all that adrenaline and cursed energy you were emitting outwards, while it also pumped through your veins and rushed through your blood as you finally sprinted off after him when he began to shake the blood clinging to his weapon off, your solid heels making quite a lot of noise on the pavement as you went.
You had dodged, flipped, slashed, spun, and hit your way around the curses, coming up to stand next to Kento after he sent another clean cut that split a curse into two. You took notice of the white-knuckled grip on the handle of his weapon, the grunts he had been letting out rather loudly compared to how he usually stayed rather quiet and reserved whenever fighting, the vein nearly pulsing on his temple, some blood smeared on his jawline you wanted to drag a finger across to clean, and you took notice of his body stiffening and jaw clenching harder whenever you leaned up to brush your chin across his tense shoulder.
Something was… off about him.
Unconsciously, you let your breath blow across his neck as you opened your mouth to speak, “You’re being awfully violent today,” you remarked, your chest heavy from all the stamina you had been using that made it come out more sounding like a pant.
Kento’s head only angled towards you minimally, the glare on the lenses of his glasses allowing you but a brief look into a steely glower, and the tilt letting you see his mouth twitch down further into a frown. “This is annoying,” he finally spoke, gravelly voice thick with a hard edge that was but growled out. He shifted again and slightly turned towards you, the thick cord of his bicep brushing against your breasts before he was looming over you, nearly shadowing your entire body, “And I’m being distracted.”
His cologne was strong sifting up through your nose and into your brain, the nerves already alive in your body from the adrenaline buzzing harder as you wiggled those words around in your brain. “Distracted by what?” you asked as you glanced off towards the side to see if you two were truly alone. Something in his slightly heaving chest was twisting the atmosphere between you two (as well as twisting your lower gut in an all-too familiar feeling).
He didn’t answer you right away, instead moving into your personal space to capture your full attention. Your face ended up nearly buried into his sculpted pectorals and you could hear, as well as feel, the raspy grunt leave his body whenever he jerked his arm up rather harshly and swung through another curse that had been creeping up behind you. The gurgling noise of the curse reached your ears and you peeped around your shoulder to see he had slashed another one in half again. Normally he was one of just going for the limb decapitation, but… he had been absolutely demolishing them left and right in outstanding speed and ferocity you had been having trouble keeping up with him.
The hair on your body rose whenever his hand snaked its way onto the middle of your back, easing you forward into him as you trained your eyes onto his face. You let him guide you, his hand suddenly seeming to be the only thing keeping you upright and keeping your feet planted firmly on the ground.
Kento was quiet for a brief moment until you felt him slightly leaning over to brush mouth against your ear, warm breath tickling as you felt his palm lay flat against your back, “Am I going to have to keep saving you?” His breath was suddenly hot on your skin then, your toes curling into your boots as your adrenaline-fueled body and mind was moving before you could even recognize what you were doing or inspect if he was feeling the same.
A hand of yours shot up out of nowhere as you tangled your fingers into the hair of his undercut and you pulled him harshly down into your face for a kiss. It was messy and it slightly hurt whenever you knocked your chin against his, but you were so pent up and moved by just your nerves literally being lit on fire from the thrill of a fight and your loins spiraling from how he was just being so aggressive and just so different, you couldn’t stop yourself from just getting a taste of his lips. However, even in your stupor you worried that the kiss wasn’t returned and that perhaps you misread and were being unbearably horny, but that quickly flew out the window when the hand on your back slid downwards to rest lower and pull on the fabric of your shirt.
“You said – you’re distracted –” you spoke hotly and breathily in-between smacks of fierce kisses, biting down onto his lower lip in the process, “Distracted by what – Kento?"
Kento didn’t necessarily respond at first, busy devouring your lips as much as he could in kisses consisting of saliva and smacks, a far cry from your usual chaste ones, before he was using the arm holding his weapon to cage you into him around your waist. You could feel the sword angled upright against your spine, your hip knocking into his thigh as he slid a leg forward and kicked one of your feet away so that he could slot his thigh in-between your own. It was hard, and it was tensed, the appendage already jerking up into your clothed cunt that was embarrassingly wet you noticed whenever you rolled your hips in response to his movement.
He swallowed the small moan you gave from the stimulation, jerking you harder into his stone-like abdomen and farther up on his thigh, before his mouth left yours and he trailed his saliva-covered lips across your cheek and down into the junction of your neck. He started kissing and biting there, all the while letting his arm slip down to let a hand curl fingers on your hip and guide you to grind on his thigh as the blade of his sword sat dangerously close to your ribcage.
“You want to know?” he asked in that octave that whispered sinfully deep into your ears when he had your legs thrown up over his shoulders with his cock diving into you. It was utterly nefarious, wisping across your skin and letting you know he felt the same way you did, and only burned that arousal brewing within you hotter. He continued on when your eyelashes fluttered at the tone of his voice and your spine arched into him, "Something tells me you already do."
"Mm," you started off, pressing into his hard body like you wanted to melt within the hard planes of his being, as you played with him more since he already had you figured out. You could already feel your cunt getting more soaked and the cloth of your panties growing uncomfortable the more you shamelessly grinded on his thigh in the middle of the street, the soft sighing pants leaving your mouth blowing his locks curling down onto his forehead and your fingers tangling more into his hair for retribution. You rolled harder, feeling his thigh press up more into you in retaliation before huffing out against his forehead, “Tell me and I’ll tell you why I’m so wet for you –”
You cut yourself off with a high-pitched gasp, however it was not by your own doing. Kento had taken that moment after your little breathy whisper to flex his thigh. You couldn’t help your own straining to tighten around the movement, trying to unsuccessfully meet that rhythm when he held you at bay instead.
“You,” he groaned out in desperation against your neck, a sweet kiss placed there that shattered the front he was putting. He was lifting his face back away from you after that, the furrowed brow and tensed jaw on his expression sending a hot course of pleasure into your clit as you continued a slow pursuit on his thigh and letting you leisurely drown in ecstasy the more you moved.   
“Me?” you asked in a teasing tone, craning your head back further exposing the soft skin of your throat he had been fixated on beforehand. You slightly tugged his head back away from your own to expose his neck, watching his nostrils flare and face pinch up before you could feel the stare from underneath his glasses; a plea perhaps. You paid it no mind, arching your back further and pushing your heaving chest outwards for his gaze while you tried not to take notice when his eyes that were barely discernible through his glasses fell to your breasts when you did so that made you all the more excited. Instead you were kicking your foot against his like he had done before to you to bring his eyes back as you smirked that you had caught him staring, “How could I make you distracted?”
Kento tugged you back closer, your chest slanting against him as his new attitude and breathy words altered the ambiance from fighting in the air between you two to something he used whenever he was prowling after you in the bedroom. The adrenaline was still coursing through you whenever you watched his glasses slightly slide down to give you view to his dilated pupils, his hold on your back nearly startling as he leaned down closer to you, “Your carelessness, the way you’ve been steadily losing control, the way you’ve been watching me the entire time… that damn skirt I can’t stand to look at right now…” he all but groaned out that last part, eyebrows twitching and teeth gritting as his chest heaved in tune with yours and urged your hips rougher onto his thigh.
You sighed whenever your clit began to tingle from all the pleasure and the mere fact you two were doing all of that in public, the adrenaline morphing and combining your eagerness for sex to follow in on his movement, but instead to keep him at bay as the hand still holding your weapon crept along his belt and skimmed across the front of his pants that were already bulging out.
You grinned.
“You’re already hard? Have you been hard this entire time watching me? Did you like seeing every peek of my panties you could get? Did you think about just what you could do with them whenever you could get the chance? Did you think about taking them off of me and wrapping them around your cock –”
You didn’t get very far finishing the sentence, his patience and desperation clouding his actions as he leaned into your body. Perhaps chasing after what you sought, his temple pressing into yours and his lips slightly trembling as they found their way onto your ear.
“You’re distracting me,” he sighed, mouth coming closer as he heatedly spoke those words, “and it’s best we don’t do this here unless…” he trailed off for a moment, dark eyes momentarily leaving your face to glance around the area with an inquisitive look as though seeming something else caught his attention.
You, however, were intrigued, the new side of Kento something you had never really seen. Yes you had seen him somewhat agitated whenever he fought curses, but those times were nothing compared to what you had seen earlier with his ferocious movements and near unrecognizable harsh burst of cursed energy he had been emitting. You liked that look in his eyes, an icy anger and adrenaline-hazed in his pupils that grew which each passing moments and only widened the more he looked at you, but also the desperation he like displayed whenever you turned around and prowled after him. You liked the way his body seemed to be coiled up a predator about to strike down its prey for the kill.
Something was off about him… and you began to know exactly what it was.
Whether it was just him getting worked up watching you or perhaps he felt the same way you did that your date was ruined, it was clear that he was pent up with frustration.
You didn’t give him a chance to finish whatever he was going to say, tilting your head closer to him as you skimmed your lips across his in a mock tease to let his eyes return back to your face with an indescribable glint. You untangled your fingers from those blonde locks, trailing a nail down his neck as you smiled against his mouth and gave a long, slow roll onto his thigh and letting him feel the pulsing of your cunt as you did so.
“So what are you gonna do, Kento? What are you gonna do about me distracting you?”
It was a split second and your eyes widened, the sudden burst of cursed energy from him in front of you and another creature behind you raising your hackles and nearly diminishing the arousal you felt within you if it hadn’t been for Kento’s actions.
It was another hard swing of his arm, the grunt and hot breath leaving him pushed out against your mouth in a near kiss as he swung through yet another curse that had snuck up behind you in your fascination with him. You could hear the flesh split and blood splatter, slightly turning your head to peek once more as you noticed that time he had cut off the head of the curse for getting too close you. You watched dazedly as he flicked his weapon free of blood again, the hand on your back cradling you into his body smoothing down your skin in a slow caress of comfort.
You could barely stop the moan leaving you after he did it too, grinding farther up on his thigh to wet his pants and brushing your knuckles against his hard cock as you placed a kiss on his bottom lip. He didn’t grant it to you for too long however, letting his hand fall off your back before he was stepping away from you altogether but a few inches, untangling all his limbs from you and removing his glasses to place them in his pocket in the process. His tie remained wrapped tight around his fist as he rolled up his sleeves better, the thick corded muscles of his forearms bulging with the movement before he deftly unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt.
His hair was still messed up, and the blood was still smeared underneath his jaw.
God, fuck, he looked good.
Kento regarded you for a few moments as you both stared at each other with clear ravenous desire electrifying the air between you two. You nearly wanted to take a step forward to initiate it with that kiss you still wanted, but Kento was once again beating you to the punch with a long sigh that sounded so deliciously sinful and bordering on a groan it stopped you in your pursuit and dampened your panties more.
“I suppose I’ll just have to make do there since anything and everything will interrupt us out here.”
You rose a brow, “Meaning…?”
He fixed you with another leveled stare, cheeks flushing from agitation, arousal, embarrassment, you weren’t sure, but something told you it was something perhaps darker and that you were wound tight in the trap set by him. He took another breath, heavy and oh-so loud, then took one step forward and tensing up as he grew nearer once more. His lips parted as he stalked you, the words coming out shocking your nerves and burning that fire behind your naval brighter.
“Meaning… I am going to finish what you started in that alleyway behind us and fuck you."
Then without further ado, and with another remarkable show of his speed he had thrown you over his shoulder, a squeal leaving your mouth as you found yourself staring at the blue fabric of his shirt covering his back and his broad shoulder digging into your abdomen. He had picked you up with one arm, the feat of the strength he possessed always surprising you and shooting white-hot pleasure straight down into your core. A small, giggling snort left you, pressing your boobs as much as you could into his back as you felt him stiffen from the feeling and your hand ghosting down to swat at his ass in further attempts to set him off.
The eye you were able to see from his side profile made a slow shift towards you for a desperate look, the vein in his temple near throbbing and his cheeks a very bright red from all your teasing. You would’ve felt wounding him up after being pissed off from your date getting ruined, but Kento had made zero complaints that he had wanted you to stop at all. Besides, it wasn’t like it would be the first time you two did anything similar.
You spent your time staring the blue hue of his shirt and subtly slipping a finger underneath his harness to ever-so often to slap it against his taut back as he finally made way to the alley, letting you down gently and taking your weapon away from your hand to slip it onto his back along with his own. Your pussy was throbbing by then in anticipation to what he had planned, and you didn’t have to wait long when you made eye contact with him again.
And from the look in his eyes, he was going to have his way with you and fuck you in a gritty, secluded alleyway that no regular person would dare to walk down in fear of what was in the darkness.
God, it shouldn’t have been as hot as it seemed.
“Good?” he asked, nervousness painting along his features for what you had to say – or if you were to decline that time. And it didn’t take a genius to know what he was asking of you.
“Good. And you?”
“Perfect.”
It was fast as Kento’s mouth descended onto yours, his hands cradling your face in desperate kiss as you walked backwards for him to press yourself against the wall. Your shoulder blades dug into the brick of the alleyway before you felt him close in on you and curl an arm underneath your knee to lift your leg up and pin your thigh up against the wall. His hips were already digging into either side of your inner thighs, his pelvis nearly inches away from your own as your skirt finally rode up to let him feast eyes on what he wanted most in that moment. You curled your fingers into the fabric of his shirt on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you bit your lip watching him already get to work and fluttering your eyes when you realized what he was doing.
Kento wasted no time dragging a knuckle down the front of your panties, a desperate noise leaving him whenever he pressed down onto the wet material before ultimately deciding he wasn’t going to have to waste any time with you. A finger coiled underneath the lace covering your pussy, pulling it to the side, and then he was sinking a lone, thick middle finger into you and cursing under his breath whenever you moaned unabashedly loud and clenched around the appendage while shallowly rocking your hips forward onto him.
He didn’t spare you any glance, face downwards as his fingers tightened on your thigh pinning it harder into the wall it nearly left indentions while he only watched the movement of his finger leaving you and returning you and coming out more coated with your juices each time he did so. You watched his dark eyebrows angle down more, a muscle bulging out in his jaw whenever the sounds of your soaked pussy began to fill quiet alleyway before he was speaking in a condescending tone, “Why are you so wet?”
You tried to tug him closer, a ‘Mmm’ leaving you whenever he picked up the pace and added another finger that slid in way too easy and leaving him to grunt again when you enthusiastically returned that with a higher-pitched moan. However Kento stayed steady, keeping his eyes down watching himself finger you and pinning your thigh higher up on the wall as you indulged him, “You mean why am I wet after watching you act like that and when you let me ride on your thigh? God Kento, you should know how wet you get me…”
His face twisted again, a slight look up towards your face underneath his eyelashes that nearly made you shiver from how blown his pupils were before he gently pulled his fingers out of you. His fingers were absolutely drenched with you, and he was examining them for a brief moment until he returned his hand and let it skim gently across your slit with a finger tickling at your clit and slowly using the pad of his finger to begin circling it. You let out a quiet whine, fingers twisting into his shirt more as you tilted your head against wall and slowly rolled your hips in tune to his ministrations.
Suddenly his finger was gone, taking all the pleasure he had been giving you for the brief moment and he lifted his head back up to look at you with a scowl and his voice deathly calm in a murmur, “You can do better than this.”
You squirmed whenever his finger brushed by your opening again, teasing you with putting a finger in to one knuckle before pulling it away and returning to soft touches to your clit. “Just touch me please.”
Kento regarded you with a sigh, pinching your clit for the whine and giving you what you wanted. He wasn’t finished with the teasing though, spending a few more rounds alternating from curling his fingers against your walls and pulling them free whenever he felt like it, and rubbing your clit in circles as you started to turn into a moaning, drooling mess biting into his shoulder from all the stimulation. Yet every time you sighed and your eyes nearly rolled back when you felt your cunt begin to loosen with an impending orgasm, he was pulling away and leaving you hanging that had you shaking in his hold and biting harder into his shirt.
You gained another bit of clarity from your swirling haze when you felt his fingers drag excruciatingly slow in circles along your thigh he had pinned against the wall, a vibrating hum leaving his throat whenever he felt your legs begin to shake. That hand trailed up and moved to lie palm up on the wall next to your head, the other pulling away from your pussy and letting it slide in a smooth, tantalizing graze until he glided up in-between your breasts before he laid his palm flat there. You could feel the wetness of your pussy juice coating his fingers through your shirt as he gently pushed your body back off of his to lean you against the wall. He took a moment to access your conditions, and when seeing no signs of backing out he continued onwards.
Your half-lidded eyes fell on his face, watching him grow closer until he was mouthing his next words around your lips and knocking his pelvis into yours.
“Tell me what you want,” Kento huffed so heatedly into your mouth, a barely there bite to your bottom lip and a small squeeze to one of your breasts.
Your whole body was trembling, fingers twisting into his shirt and mind drunk for him as your cunt all drenched along your inner thighs and pleading to be filled by him fluttered from his sinful tone. “Please, just let me cum – touch me, Kento,” you all but begged, bratty demeanor from before all but gone.
“And why should I do that?” His voice was low, eyelashes dipping more over his dark eyes that seemed to grow brighter the more you lost your composure. His hand left your chest after that, gliding back down as he pinched at your soaked panties.
“Because… just please, I understand what I did,” you whined out, trying to kiss at his lips again but to no avail. You nearly felt like thrashing around, the want to cum and need have him inside too strong and making you lose some of your sense.
A ‘Hmm’ was breathed out around you, two pads of his fingers rubbing the fabric of your lace panties together, “You did show you could do better letting your pussy get more wet for me, but…” he slid your panties down an inch, “you need to learn to be patient,” he finally hissed out, his tone losing that calm form and coiling into that barely restrained one you heard earlier whenever you had been teasing him.
You weren’t giving up, desperate for his entire being as one hand of yours slid back into his hair and massaged the back of his skull, “I am patient! I’ll do what you want me to do, just – please.”
Kento didn’t reply to you for a moment, only a sigh leaving his mouth that sounded just as condescending as it felt before he pulled your panties down another inch with the cool air tickling your soaked lower half. “You’ll do what I want? You’ll listen and only cum when I say you can?”
You wiggled up against his chest, arching your back away from the wall and trying to get closer to him and his clothed hard cock pressing against your abdomen, “Yesyesyesyesyes, anything.”
He was getting better at it. And hadn’t broke character once.
You’d definitely reward him for it a later time.
Kento only pulled away far enough to lean down and tear your horribly drenched panties off of you with a powerful sweep on his hand, pocketing them away in his pants for safekeeping. He closed in on you faster than before, and in one easy maneuver he yanked you up into his front harder with a steel arm wrapped around your back before instructing you further with orders.
“Up.”
You jumped up rather wobbly, his hands falling to settle on your thighs in a squeeze as you wrapped them around his waist. He pushed you back against the wall to lean in and plunge another harsh kiss onto your mouth as he grounded his cock up against your naked cunt, biting at your lower lip again when you whined and pulling away to mouth at your jawline before making his way to your ear and whispering his next command against your earlobe with a biting tease.
“Undo my pants.”
You weren’t able to wait any longer, hurriedly releasing your hands from where they were holding onto him and you miraculously were able to loosen his belt free and pull him out with a teasing squeeze. You barely held in a moan when you felt him so vulnerable in your hand, a shudder leaving you when you realized he was about to put himself inside of you and from his reaction to you touching him so heavy.
Kento’s lips and teeth detached themselves from your jawline frighteningly quick, his handsome, chiseled features twisting into pleasure as he threw his head back a brief angle and let out a groan from your touch. You nearly wanted to bite down onto his Adam’s apple exposed so nicely to you, and you would’ve if he hadn’t tilted his head back down with a wild glint in his eyes and used one hand to push yours away from his cock and hold them together against your breasts. The other left your thigh as well, leaving you suspended in the air by just his strength and weight as he rose his hand palm up right under your mouth.
“Spit.”
His curt, clipped tones only served to continue and turn you on, eagerly complying to him as you rolled your tongue around in your mouth to produce more saliva until the inside was completely full of your spit. You puckered your lips afterwards and drooled a decent amount of spit into his palm as his fingers teased at the edge of your lips while you did so, your drool getting caught in the corners of your mouth and wetting your chin once you were finished. A harsh tingle found its way into your clit once more when you watched his nostrils flare at your willingness and the way you were complying to his orders so quickly, a quirk to the corner of his own lips as he pulled his hand away from your face tickling your chin and freed your wrists.
“Good girl,” he praised you once, and in a quick display of reflexes and experience he had learned with you, he reached down with one hand and coated his cock with your spit and mixed it in with his precum, letting a long grunt leave him as he threw his head back once more when he began stroking himself to completely cover his dick with the makeshift lube. His other hand curled around your nape once more, squeezing the area as he shuffled closer to you suddenly, and you felt the recognizable feeling of his hot cock rubbing up against your entire cunt.
You squirmed again, locking your arms around his neck as you lifted yourself up a bit by arching your back waiting for the inevitable. Kento grunted at your eagerness, eyes squeezing shut along with yours whenever you wiggled down more onto his bare cock as your moans mingled together with your mouths so close together whenever you felt his tip brush against your opening. Kento let out a heated huff as he guided himself more into you, his cockhead breaching inside of you while his expression twisted into one of concentration.
“Kento,” you breathe, all breathy and pleading around his lips, “Please.”
His patience had worn thin then you understood, his cock finally pushing further inside of you somewhat slowly and even with how wet you had gotten from the fingering and pussy slapping, it still was quite the fit given Kento was someone who had girth. He was so thick, so searing, it was nearly too much for you to handle even though you had taken his cock countless times before. Though he continued into you as you arched and squirmed from the stretch of him pulling your pussy walls taut, your fingers twisted at the collar of his shirt when you suddenly heard him grunt in frustration then grip your hip in a near bruising hold before shoving the rest of him inside of you in one harsh thrust.
You couldn’t help the loud moan escaping you, the red-hot heat of his cock inside of you and the nerve-tingling pleasure of your cunt squeezing him impossibly tight and shocking your body nearly unbearable for you to even handle as you finally got him inside of you.
Kento seemed to be fairing somewhat better, a hot kiss planted on your mouth when jerked himself as far as he could inside of you, and his voice so low and sinful in your face it was a wonder you weren’t gushing all over him then. “How perfect,” his breath mingled with yours once more, your noses skimming across one and another’s as you began to find it too hard to kiss him back from the coil of pleasure burning behind your naval. “It’s like you were made for me, weren’t you? You’re my girl, aren’t you?” his fingers tightened on your nape, teeth scraping against your bottom lip as he pulled a choked gasp from you with one shallow push of his hips into you.
“Only yours,” you managed in your near drunken stupor, legs shaking around his waist as he started up a slow round of thrust in a mouthwatering angle. A high-pitched moan left you when his free hand teasingly brushed across your clit once more and you rolled your hips downwards to further impale yourself onto his cock, testing his patience in the meanwhile when you heard another long exhale leave him when you bit his lip in tune to clenching up around his dick. “Only you can get me this wet and fuck me like this.”
Perhaps… you should’ve backed off with the tempting words.
Kento was still for a moment before he shifted your higher up against the wall to where his mouth had access to your neck, his breath hot in puffs against it once he got there and with one bite into the junction between your shoulder and neck, he spoke his last command for the time being.
“Lock your ankles.”
Oh, God.
You fluttered your eyelashes at his request, a squirm of excitement tingling down into your pussy as the words nearly made you cum and you unabashedly whimpered in his ear after he growled them out into your throat, your booted feet accompanied with heels locking around his body and letting the dull edge of your heels press into the delicious dip of his lower back.
Better hold on tight.
He pulled out of you slowly one last time and let his tip glide up across your slit and clit before he was burying himself into your cunt with a quick, snap of his hips. The press of him against your sweet spot was harsher that time and the stretch better as it ended up letting you give out a breathless moan, your chest beginning to heave with pants and whines when he set an unforgiving and powerful pace. A pace that sent you spiraling back down into the path of a release that did as much for you as it did for him, the pulsing and fire inside of you raging as he continued to pound away at you.
Your gasps and whines began to line up to the rhythm of his harsh thrusts, your chin coming down to fall onto his shoulder once more as you bit and mouthed away at this shirt to try keep yourself grounded. You rocked your hips as best as you could, trying to incite him into fucking you harder and faster all the while chasing that pressure behind your naval that grew heavier and bigger the more he rapidly entered and left you. You wanted to hear more of his noises, the slight low grunts he was giving not enough as your fingers twisted harder and you let your nails dig into his nape. You wanted him to lose himself in the fitted wetness that was your cunt.
Kento busied himself to kissing and biting along the column of your throat, bouncing you harder as your back began to slide up and down the brick wall behind you and rub your skin through your shirt. You paid it no mind (he’d probably curse himself later as he tended to skin of your back in a bath), too caught up in the rough thrusting as you instead took notice of the steel cold of his belt buckle rubbing into your thigh on one side and the leather of it rubbing onto your other. His groan was muffled into your neck when you squeezed your thighs tighter.
You parted off from sucking on his shoulder with another hair-raising moan, angling your head far back enough so that the back of your skull was knocking against the brick, “Fuck –” your eyes nearly rolled back when his grip on you turned bruising and your tightened at the thought bruises being left behind. Your words came out in the rhythm of each hard thrust, the breath of you getting knocked out each time he quickly entered you and slammed up into your cunt. “I – love – it – when you – get – rough – it feels – so fucking – good!”
Your breathy little admission and the louder and filthier your mouth got earned you the noisy groan you had been wanting, that one hand releasing your hip to slam into the wall beyond you, that you swore nearly shattered the brick, and the other one leaving your nape to trail two fingers along your jawline until he was diving them into the hot expanse of your mouth. Kento pressed his two fingers down onto your tongue, an unspoken word for you to suck on them, and you did so greedily. You could feel your pussy tightening up along with that coil in your abdomen, the warning from earlier not to cum until he told blaring out in your mind before you shoved it away and fell towards your own pleasure.
The smacks you were hearing was both of your skin damp with sweat slapping against each other with every thrust he made and straining you were able to hear the slippery sounds of your cunt getting horribly wrecked. You moaned around his fingers when he grunted harshly into your neck, your head lulling to right and –
You nearly froze, the hair rising on your neck as you took notice of the curse hobbling along towards the both of you with a curious tilt to its head and another slight step of a sound caused you to move your head around to stare at the one approaching Kento from behind. Fear struck you for short moments, your eyes widening and body tensing up as you made a noise complaint around his fingers trying to get his attention that you two were not alone anymore. Though as Kento said before with you distracting him, he almost didn’t take notice and you almost reached around to grab your weapon to swing at one if Kento hadn’t already beat you to the punch.
“Ken –"
The curse to right of you took one step too close and you watched oh-so fascinatingly and so goddamn aroused when Kento’s fingers in your mouth left abruptly with drool stuck to them and caught the curse by its neck, his hand and forearm corded with thick veins bulging outwards in a display of raw strength before he twisted the neck of the curse around and smashed its head into the wall until it exploded in a smog of purple. He was quick again when you heard another annoyed grunt leave him and the hand on the wall disappeared and he reached behind for his blade, and with one clean sweep behind his back without even looking, dislodging the head of the curse with a harsh thrust up into your sopping cunt.
He had done all of that… without looking… with his face buried in your neck… and with him still fucking you…
You couldn’t help it, you came right then and there, so unbelievably turned on that he had done that so aggressively and without even stopping his momentum.
Your nails had made their way scratching down his back through his shirt as you rode out the entirety of your intense orgasm. You were glad Kento had returned his hand from where he had beat that curse against the wall to wrap back around your waist because you were sure you would’ve fallen apart onto the ground with how you finally came down from the euphoria and your limbs all but felt useless to you. He had continued to fuck you through the rushing release, your mind content to allow him to do so since you were all caught up with trying to calm your racing heart down along with your erratic breathing.
For that you heard him grunt and pull his hand away from your back as did his thrusting coming to a stop once he felt your thighs jerking around his waist. You wondered why he stopped as you blinked yourself out of the drunken-like haze that was your paradise; you may have been a little muddled from the way he made you cum but you knew he hadn’t cummed then. You got your answer when he pulled back from you and let you lie your back more against the wall, his dark eyes briefly watching your chest move with your fast breathing before rising back to your lusted-out expression. He waited until you weren’t breathing as hard and then his hands were falling back to grasp both your hips after returning his weapon to his back, his voice deadly calm as he regarded you.
“Did you just cum?”
You rolled your shoulders, sighing whenever he rose a dark eyebrow and waited for you to explain yourself, “Mmm, yes, just – keep going –”
He cut you off, a dumbfounded expression on his face as his eyes darted around your face, “Are you sure…?”
You wanted to sigh. So much for not breaking character. You indulged him with a breathy noise, tightening your thighs around his waist and flexing your cunt around his cock, “Yes, now – keep going… Be mean and… y’know. Unless I have to do all the work again…” you trailed off, a mischievous ploy in your words you hoped spurred him on.
His fingers tightened up on your hips, feeling your cunt flutter around him once more as his jaw clenched. And somehow, you found yourself on your feet confused for a moment… Like he’d moved too fast for you to actually follow…
“Um…” And it was a brief few seconds before your mind caught up with your body.
Kento had pulled himself out of you and gently dropped you to stand level on the ground. You let out an indignant noise in response before trying to find your way back onto his cock, but in another display of his strength he had turned you around, your chest and cheek pressed against the brick and your hands lying flat against it as well. Your back ended up bent in that position as he pulled your hips back into and you were bouncing on his awaiting cock once more. The new position had you moaning louder, his own hissing exhale from how deep he went in and slid in so easily from how wet you were following right behind you as he started up a pace.
There was no chance to gather your thoughts, Kento’s behavior was bordering on losing control as he pressed his weight onto you and pinned you hard to the wall. His mouth found its way to your ear again, breath hot in your ear as he started off his depraved words for you and you alone to hear.
“It was your loud mouth that attracted their attention,” he gravelly started, one hand on your hip leaving as two fingers found your swollen and sensitive clit, “What is it? Can’t even keep yourself quiet even when you got something in your mouth? Or was it you couldn’t find the words to tell me you wanted to cum?”
You couldn’t form an answer to that, too engrossed with the pleasure he was giving you into your still sensitive and gushing cunt while simultaneously rubbing away at your clit in a fast pace. What you managed was a whining noise, fucking back onto his cock as his fingers slowed down on your clit and held off your new rapidly approaching orgasm. You nearly wanted to cry out in frustration from his ridiculous self-control, yet you were branching out on another cry whenever his fingers molded themselves into your hips with a quick pull backwards onto his cock.
You squealed, pressing your breasts harder into the wall as he started back up into your ear again. "Focus. Tell me what you want.”
“I want – mmm God, I want –”
He squeezed your hips, his own smacking loudly against your ass before a thumb found its way into your mouth and his teeth latched onto your earlobe before repeating himself again, “Say it. Tell me how much you want me to cum inside of you. Tell me how much you want me to cum and how you’ll barely be able to hold it inside of you. Tell me you want me to fuck my cum into you. Tell me how much you want to be a good girl for me.”
He was commanding you then, your eyes squeezing shut in tune to how your pussy clenched around him to his sinful words. The cutting edge to them told you that he was leaving you no room to even try and escape from answering him, your toes curling inside of your boots when he picked up his thrusts and huffed heatedly against your cheek.
Your whines were airy, face feeling flustered as you heeded his order, “Please, Kento, I’ll do anything – I want you to cum inside of me so bad –”
You cut yourself off when his fingers left your clit, thinking perhaps he was giving you what you wanted until that hand came down onto your ass in a resounding slap. You lurched forward from it, biting your lip trying to muffle a load moan as your pussy gushed more around his cock and the slippery sounds of your two’s debauchery grew louder in the alleyway. Your body felt like mush then, legs shaking under his form as he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek.
“More.”
You could nearly feel the exasperated tears well up in your eyes, nails scratching at the brick and legs spreading wider for him as he bent your body down further and his fingers found your clit once more. Kento started up his teasing circles, chest heaving into your back as you tried once more in a shaky voice to appease his commands, “I want you to ruin me, fuck me dumb like a slut and can only think of you.”
You could feel his brow furrow against the side of your face, sweat lining in with yours as his hips picked up in a dangerous smacking with his balls following in pursuit to slapping into your pussy and clit as his fingers picked up the speed on your clit. Your eyes nearly rolled when you felt yourself falling back into your second release, gasping moans leaving your parched mouth as he grew desperate and started groan into your cheek. It spurned you on, you wanted to push him further to get him to act out more.
“I want you to fuck me so hard and cum in me so much there’s no way that I’m not pregnant. Come on, Kento –” you broke off in a heated moan, sweaty forehead grinding into the brick as you continued to babble whatever he possibly wanted to hear to get him and yourself to cum. "Fuck me till I'm pregnant – please – cum in me as much as you want until your baby's in me –"
His fingers pushed harder onto your clit, a white-hot burst behind your eyelids as you felt him teeter into a breakneck speed into your cunt. It nearly stopped you from getting the rest of your sentence out, but you managed to gasp it out you finally entered the throes of your second orgasm.
You couldn’t take it.
His fingers felt too good on your swollen clit, his cock so fucking hot and thick inside of you as it jutted into your deepest region, everything just fucking smelling like him, your brain churning into pure depravity as you listened to him groan and grunt as he increased his pace, your lower abdomen pulling and stretching out so far, and holy fucking shit –
You were sure what you garbled out was a variation of his name, but you weren’t too sure considering you were preoccupied trying not to pass out.
You were definitely sure then if he hadn’t kept a firm hold of your hips you would’ve collapsed and slid down the wall and onto the ground from how bad your legs were shaking. You didn’t necessarily care either when you felt a small dab drool escape your mouth around his thumb as you were too busy fighting off the aftershocks of your orgasm. That one was the most intense; your world – and your cunt – bursting like a champagne bottle when struck your entire body like a lightning strike. If you weren’t so needy to hear him cum you would’ve let your mind fall deep into the endorphins being given to you and tickling your body all the way down to your toes, your muscles and bones feeling like they had been liquefied and going numb.
The way he was still fucking you was on the frontlines of your thoughts, your body bouncing back and forth from the tenacity of his thrusts as your insides constricted and throbbed around him to help meet his own end. You didn’t have to wait long though as the mere feeling of you cumming around his cock pushed him over the edge, both hands on your hips tugging you backwards for one fierce thrust to let himself find your deepest point in the hot, mind-blowing pleasure that was your cunt and meet his end.
“Fuck!”
His body twitched behind you as his hands dug deeper into your flesh before he started to erratically jerk inside of you in slower strokes as his cum spurted out of him. Your eyes spun back and you moaned again when you felt the warm spurts of his cum shoot inside of your awaiting cunt and literally stuff you full to point you were sure you wouldn’t be able hold all of his cum within you. It nearly felt as if he never was going to stop, the new heat in your pussy sliding down throughout the inside of you. You could feel from the thick girth of the liquid passing through your cervix and into your wombs as Kento’s hips rocked slowly with each new spray into you until finally he came to a full stop with his cock sitting snugly inside of you to hold all of his cum in your cunt for the time being.
It was a few moments more longer as you both gathered your breath and bearings before he was slowly sliding out of you, his hands releasing you after one final squeeze and gliding across your ass, then completely leaving your body. After that he was spinning you around, hands finding your cheeks to angle your face towards him as he let his eyes roll over inch of your face and body.
“Are you alright?” Kento finally asked, voice still slightly breathy and face still flushed. His hair was even more messed up than before, his shirt wrinkled and you noticed his tie was still wrapped around his fist. He had tucked himself back into his pants and in those few moments you had been shaking against the wall, and you wiggled whenever you blinked into more clarity and he was pulling your skirt back down to shield your modesty.
You grinned dopily up at him, leaning further into him as you stuck your nose into his collarbone, “I’ve never felt better.”
“I didn’t hurt you?” he questioned again, a tilt of concern in his voice whenever you nearly stumbled into him.
“Absolutely not,” you mumbled and wrapping your arms around his waist for a hug, “I would’ve told you if you did.”
He sighed wrapping an arm around your waist and checking his watch whenever he noticed the sun beginning to set, “The Farmer’s Market is probably over by now.” Why did he sound somewhat melancholic?
(Of course, leave it to Nanami Kento to be upset he couldn't go to the Farmer's Market anymore after getting some pussy.)
You rolled your head upwards to study his face, an eyebrow cocking as he looked devilishly handsome in the oncoming sunset, “Are you still worried about that?”
Kento looked back to you, eyebrows knitting together as he started to walk you both of out the alley, “I’m only saying that because you were the one whining whenever I dropped the basket.”
“You didn’t drop it, you slapped a curse with it and then threw it at another one. Besides… not too worried about it since I got something else in the end.”
“Hmm.”
“C’mon, you know you liked it too. Especially when I told you to put –”
“Don’t finish that sentence. Especially since I’m not done with you yet.”
“What. I can barely feel my legs.”
“I know, and after I find my jacket and we report what happened to the school we’re going home where I’m, as you said, ‘putting another baby in you’.”
“Ugh, whatever, but since you get your jacket can I have my panties back, you freak.”
“No. They’re mine.”
“No way you’re gonna make me walk around with no panties on…”
“I am and –”
He slapped your ass again, causing you to jolt and squeal as he leant down and whispered in your ear again as you laughed.
“A single drop of me better not come out of you until we get home.”
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luvyeni · 3 days ago
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LOVESICK BOY 𝕼. ( 이동혁 )
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𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이동혁 x fem!reader )  ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. unprotected sex , oral ( f )word count. 3.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !
synopsis … haechan is completely lovesick … but you won’t give him the time a day , until chenle comes in and shows you what you’ve been missing
𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ this is the one that i think was supposed to be a yandere but the person didn’t specify
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you really couldn’t see the appeal; all he did was sleep around with other girls, party and never show up to class — so why couldn’t you stop staring at him?
“my god he’s so annoying.” chenle turned around to see who you were staring at. “and how is she even falling for that?” you watched donghyuck flirt with the 3rd girl this morning , the girls eyes shimmered with hope and joy. if only she knew she’d be severely disappointed in the end. “this is your third complaint about him today.” jeno smirked. “we’ll need to get a jar , every complaint about hyuck you’ll have to put a dollar in the jar.”
“hey maybe we will be able to afford a new game for the frat after all , give it a week.” jaemin teased , you scoffed. “with the way she talks about him , maybe will have a little left over.” the table laughed , while you just rolled your eyes. “haha very funny , im leaving.” you stood up ready to walk away when someone blocked your path. “lee donghyuck.” you sighed , the boy smiled in front of you. “hey my wife to be.” he smirked. “where you going i just got here.” he said.
“really because we all saw you flirting with that girl over there.” you didn’t even mean to sound jealous , but it came off like that. “you jealous?” he said , you stepped to the right , but he followed blocking you once again. “come on you know you’re the one that i want.” and he was serious about that , but to you it meant nothing. “yeah , how many people did you say that to today?” you pushed him out the way , walking away to your next class.
he waited until you were out of sight and earshot before he sat in the seat slumped. “and what’s got you upset today?” marked smirked , the guys groaning knowing the rant he was about to go on. “you got him started.” he sighed dramatically. “i just don’t get it , why won’t she take me seriously.” his friends shook their heads. “how many times do i have to confess for her to get it.” he said. “for starters don’t flirt with other girls in front of her.” renjun said. “but i wasn’t flirting , i only asked where she got her necklace from.” he said. “i wanted to buy it for yn , she said a month ago her favorite necklace broke and i wanted to get her a new one , that looked like one she would like.” he said.
“yeah but that girl looked like she wanted to pull your pants down and suck your dick in front of everyone and with how friendly you were, it looked like you’d let her.” chenle said. “this is driving me insane.” he tugged at his hair. he couldn’t get you out of his head, you consumed him entirely even though you barely gave him the time of day. he even enjoyed when you would insult him because at least you were talking to him. “you guys don’t understand.” he sighed. “you’ve explained it , many many many times.” jisung looked up from his phone. “we understand.”
“where did obsession even come from , she’s never given you any reason for you to like her like that.” jaemin said. “i don’t know , it’s just that every single thing she does makes me crazy, even now i feel sick that she isn’t here , i miss her and she doesn’t even know it.” his friends watch him pour his heart out. “i think i love her.”
“whoa calm down.” mark said. “at least get her to like you before you start talking fucking wedding bells , children and shit.” the table chuckled , but he was serious. “how can i get her to like me?” he said. “aren’t you supposed to be good at this?” chenle said. “aren’t you like known for getting girls out of their panties , this should be a walk in the park for you.” haechan knew his reputation ; and he won’t deny his freshman year he really was like that — but then he met you , and everything changed , he no longer wanted to be a player , he wanted you and only you… turns out his past did come with consequences , you hated him; you wanted nothing to do with him despite him telling you that he changed , you refused to believe him.
“that’s the thing , i don’t want to get her out her panties.” they all looked at him. “well not just that , i want to be her , go on dates , take her to the movies , hell sit in the park and have a picnic.” he said. “yeah but you also want to fuck her in these exact places and she’s aware of that.” jeno said. “it’s your approach bro.” mark said. “yn doesn’t want to know what you’d do to her if you were alone in her bedroom.” he said. “she’s probably heard that 1000 times already.” he doubled over with a groan , he couldn’t fathom another guy talking to you. “instead of approaching her like a jerk , ask her on a real date first; or at least say hello when you see her and not and this is a quote from you ‘hello mother of all 6 of my future kids.’
he thought about all the advice that he was giving; as he waited outside of your class. “don’t say anything stupid.” he said to himself , walking back and forth. “nothing stupid.” he said. “oh that must be hard for you.” he spun around upon hearing your voice. “you’re constantly saying stupid stuff.” he smiled , your upper lip curled up in annoyance. “hi yn.” he said. “what do you want lee donghyuck?” you walked , he followed behind you. “well to ask you a question.” he said. “no.” you said , he pouted , making you feel bad. “fine what is it , i have a class.” you said. “i can walk you.” he said walking next to you. “is that what you wanted? that’s not a question.”
“that’s not the question yn , please listen to me for a second.” he pleased. “what is is donghyuck?” you said. “let me take you out,” he said. “what?” you stopped. “let me take you out.” he repeated. “on a date , a real date.” he said. “and why would i do that?” you said. “because im trying to show you that im not a heartless bastard with no home training.” you stifled a laugh. “did you laugh?” he said. “no.” you deadpanned. “yes you did , come on it was funny , you can laugh.” he said. “haechan — oh my god , you called me haechan.” you stared at him. “i have class donghyuck.” you stopped outside the classroom. “then say yes; we’ll go see a movie.” he explained. “we can even go get ice cream , brownie your favorite.”
“how did you know that?” you asked. “just say yes , before you’re late.” he said. you thought about it for a second , no sexual jokes , no condescending smirk on his face , although sexy made you want to slap him — he was serious. “are you fucking with me?” you said. “yn i wouldn’t have walked you all the way to class if i wasn’t serious , my class is on the other side of campus.” he said. “im waiting and you know what i think i can miss a day of class , this class seems fun.” he tried to walk past you , but you stopped him. , hand on his chest. “no don’t do that.” you said. “i will go; so go back to your class , lord knows you shouldn’t miss a day.” he smiled , his hand coming to your wrist. “really?” he said. “i will meet you at the movie theatre , now go.”
he waited for you to go into the class; before bursting out in a fit of excitement; you said yes , he couldn’t believe you said yes.
“i can’t believe i said yes.” you slammed your vanity. “why did i say yes?” you complained to your friend on the phone. “because maybe you really like him and you let his reputation from freshman year determine your entire perception of him.” chenle said. “still , we both saw him flirting with those girls.” you said. “i won’t be another one of sexual conquests.” chenle spoke up. “be realistic who didn’t do dumb shit during freshman year? you ran topless down a busy street drunk and has haechan judged you for that?” he said. “no in fact he was the one who chased you down the street, shirt in hand , his shirt because yours was floating in our pool.” you cringed, remembering jeno and haechan dragging you back to the dorms as you screamed. “i genuinely believe that was the first time he actually realized he fell deep for you and not because you were naked and in his arms.”
“to be honest haechan hasn’t been with anyone since freshman year , im pretty sure he fucked himself into not wanting anything , but not only that , but because he quite literally doesn’t want anyone else but you.” chenle said. “and those girls , we know he’s friendly even the teachers think he’s flirting with them.” he said. “but he was touching her.” you said. “because she had a necklace that he wanted to buy you , he remembered you broke yours and he wanted to get you a new one.” he let it spill out; should he have? no , but with the new look on your face he knew haechan would thank him in the end. “i only mention that once , months ago.”
“and he remembered; just how he remembers everything you say , down to the name of your dead hamster you had when you were three.” chenle said. “i genuinely don’t think you understand how much he likes you.” he said. “and i think you’re letting your soulmate slip right from your hands.”
as you stood staring at the movie posters; everything was swirling around in your head as you tried to make sense of it… did haechan really feel this deeply for you? you’ve treated him so horribly for all these years for some stupid things he did when he was fresh out of highschool; and now chenle sprung this on you… you felt like shit. you hadn’t even realized that haechan was late. “yn!”
you were gonna kill him; you’ll never give him the time of day again, you’re gonna think he’s fucking with you. “calm down man , how were you supposed to know your car was gonna break down.” mark sat in the drivers seat. “call her , im sure she’ll understand.” he said. “she probably already went home , and blocked me.” he said. “well we’re here , so get out and hope she’s still there.” he hopped out of the car , running into the movie theaters. “please still be here.”
he saw you and let out a sigh of relief; your back was turned but he could tell it was you. he could pick you out of a lineup with his eyes closed; just by your scent alone. “yn!” he ran over to you. “im so sorry i didn’t hmph.” was he dreaming? this was a sick joke his mind was play; he was dreaming , you actually weren’t here and this was a dream he was having. he had to be — because there was no way you were hugging him right now. “um not that i don’t like this … but what is this?”
you were silent; no you sniffled. why are you sniffling? are you sick? “yn , this is weird, what’s wrong?” he pulled away; you were too ashamed to look him in the eyes. “please look at me , im sorry for being late.” he said. “why are you crying?” he said, worried even more now. “what happened did someone do something?” you shook your head. “then tell me please im dying.” he said, which made you laugh through your tears. “im so stupid.” you said. “please i’ve met stupid girls and you definitely aren’t one of them.” he said. “oh no that came out wrong i promise i haven't met any girls , it’s just me saying that i think you’re very smart.” he panicked. “please just tell me why you’re crying.” he said.
“because i’ve been so mean to you an-and all you’ve tried to do is be nice to me and i judged you for things you did years; even though you’ve never judged me even when i ran down the street topless— hey!” his hand came up to your mouth. “not everyone needs to hear that.” he said. “where is all this coming from?” he said. “im just sorry for everything.” you said. “every single thing i’ve done wrong.” his first instinct was to grab your face. “nothing could make me hate you okay?” he said. “i haven’t done much to prove how much i really like you; only how much i wanted to sleep with you — wait not that i want to sleep with you, why am i so bad at this all of a sudden.” he said. “let’s just go see the movie okay, we can get ice cream after and talk alright?” you nodded , he took his hands off your cheeks , taking one of your hands into his. “come on wipe those tears off your pretty face.”
haechan could barely watch the movie with the way your hand was gripping his. you wouldn’t let him go , and he wouldn’t have it any other way — if this was a dream he was scheduling an appointment for a therapist when he woke up because he would never mentally recover from this if it was fake. “why do you keep staring at my home like that?” you whispered with a smile. “because im trying to see if im dreaming or not,” he said. “you’re holding my hand.” he said. “you’re actually holding my hand.” he smiled. “you’re on a date with me, and you’re holding my hand.” he could’ve burst into excitement if he wasn’t in a quiet movie theater. “you’re not dreaming.” you kissed his knuckles and he almost passed out. “see.”
“maybe i still don’t believe it.” you giggled , before you reached over kissing his cheek, leaving the boy shocked. “do you believe it now?” he nodded. “good because i don’t think there was anything else I could’ve done here in public that would’ve made you believe me.” you said. “well maybe if there was less people.” did you really say that? what did you mean by that? now he was thinking about other stuff. would you have touched him? in public?
the movie soon ended and you still hadn’t let him go even as you made your way to the ice cream shop to get your ice cream. “sorry we’re out of brownie ice cream.” the worker said. “really?” you frowned. “maybe you can get chocolate?” he said. “it’s not the same.” you said. “well we can stop to get some food since you didn’t eat anything at the movies.” he said , he really didn’t want this date to end. “or..” you started. “we can go to my apartment and i can make ramen.” your house? you were letting him in your house? “what do you say?” why would he fucking say no? “okay.”
the walk back to your apartment wasn’t that long , nether was the elevator to your apartment; but he soon found himself in your space, surrounded by your scent and all things you — this was his heaven. “haechan.” he heard you call him , which made him turn to you. he couldn’t even react before your lips were on his. your kiss was something he dreamt about often , your soft pillowy lips on his; your fingers working their way through his neck hairs. “wa-wait yn.” he pulled away before he got carried away. “as much as i love this , i definitely don’t want to do this just cause you feel bad.” he said. “no-no i want this.” you said. “i want this so much.” you said , and that was all the confirmation he needed. “then let me do it.”
he picked you up; taking you to your room , kicking the door open. “wan’ you go sit on my face.” he said. “fuck i need you to sit on my face.” he groaned , laying back. “i don’t want to hurt you.” he didn’t care; dying with his face stuffed between your legs seemed like his dream way to go. “no , no you won’t please.” he begged , pulling your skirt down , along with your panties , your wet was right there , he could smell your scent as you dripped for him. “please sit , please im gonna die if you don’t.” he grabbed your thighs desperately. “sit please.” you finally gave in , lowering yourself down , you could feel his tongue. “oh-oh hyuck.” you moaned , yelping as he impatiently pulled you down. “fuck!”
he wasted no time licking your folds , holding you by your waist like you’d run away if he didn’t , your hips involuntarily moved against his tongue , your hands coming to hair pulling at it. “fuck keep going.” you moaned. “just like that , im gonna cum!” he sucked on your clit , sending you over the edge. “oh my god!” you gasped your legs began to shake. “im cumming!”
the boy below opened his mouth , allowing your juices to flow straight into his mouth; drinking everything you had to give him; his cock begging to be freed and touched — tasting you wasn’t enough, he needed to be inside you. “hyuck i can’t - too much!” he finally let up on your poor cunt , but that doesn’t mean he was done. “i need you.” he moaned, kissing your thighs. “you have me.” you said , he flipped you over. “I need to fuck you , pl-please.” he pressed himself against your bare lower half. “pl-please hyuck.” you reached down , pulling at his pants , undoing the buttons. “please fuck me.”
he stood up quickly; not wanting to be away from you much longer , pulling his pants down , along with his underwear. “i-i don’t have a condom.” he said , you didn’t care right now. “are you clean?” he nodded , his aching cock standing in desperate need of attention. “then please touch me , please.”
he climbed back in between your legs. “fuck.” he cursed the moment his hip touched your soaking cunt. he knew he wasn’t gonna last long , but he knew he didn’t want to let you down. “It-it’s okay.” you touched his cock , slowly guiding it inside you. “oh fuck you’re so tight.” he had to compose himself. “fu-fuck i don’t think I’m gonna last.” he fully stilled himself inside you. “can i move?” you moaned. “please move hyuck.”
he grabbed your waist; moving. “oh-oh fuck you’re so big.” he groaned. “faster hyuck.” you whined. “please go faster.” he hissed as he picked up the pace , feeling you clench around him repeatedly. “fuck if you keep doing that , im gonna cum.” he said , his movements still remaining strong and fluid as his tip kissed your cervix over and over. “fuck im cumming.” he groaned ,his cock twitching inside you before he shot his load inside of you. “oh fuck im sorry.” he pulled out , finishing on your sensitive cunt. “sh-shit it’s okay.”
he definitely wasn’t about to leave you hanging; pushing his sensitive cock right back inside you. “fuck hyuck!” you screamed , your neighbors surely won’t be happy with you in the morning. “wanna make you cum.” he said , his hands planted on both sides of your head. “fuck hyuck keep going.” you moaned. “right there , im gonna cum.” he kept up his pace , soon your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came. “oh fuck!” he felt himself cumming a second time , this time he didn’t pull out.
“i didn’t pull out.” he said breathlessly. “th-that’s okay.” you said. “we-we need to clean up.” you sat up , but he wasn’t done , now that he finally got a taste of you , he wanted it again , and again and again. “not yet.” he kissed your stomach. “i wanna do it.” your eyes followed his dark ones as he kissed and bit at your thighs. “wanna clean your pretty pussy myself.”
it was truly gonna be a long night for your neighbors.
“there he is at it again.” jaemin looked past you , making you turn around. “he can’t read a single room can it.” you watch the girls face turn beat red as the boy in front of him start a conversation. “she can’t either , can she not tell he’s not interested.” chenle spoke up. “excuse me.” you got up , the table was confused. “class?” jeno smirked , you shook your head. “no.” you walked away , straight over to the boy. “oh hi , you see these earrings?” you nodded at the clueless boy in front of you. “our 5 months is coming up , wouldn’t you like these?” the girl finally got the hint walking away. “wait what brand are they?” you dragged him back to the table. “I’ll find you a better pair.”
“and he still can’t see why she hated him?” jisung said. “I don’t need anymore jewelry ; we’ve been together 5 months and you’ve given me way more jewelry than i’ll ever need.” you said. “you’re right , i’ll just get you flowers.” you smiled , giving him a cheek kiss. “if that’s what you want hyuck.” he still stared at you with the same love sick look.
he was clueless and couldn’t read the room at all ; but he was yours… and you wouldn’t change him for the world.
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©️LUVYENI
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phillip-bankss · 1 day ago
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very normal phillip banks tweet: i love the president of the united states and i'm gonna make a shitcoin like he did because i love him so much!
yeah it's kinda irritating people are asking if I'm hacked because 1. it's a lazy edit of my art, 2. it's crypto, and 3. I hate the president of the united states and I would do the exact opposite of whatever that fascist dickhead would endorse.
copy pasting from statement from my insta post:
"hey all, I was hoping to get access to my twitter again after it getting hacked (again) in January, but twitter has been completely unresponsive in helping me get it back. I never regained access, so this isn't me getting hacked "again", the hacker still has control of it.
apparently whoever has control of the account posted something a bit ago pushing some stupid garbage. I'm going to make this explicitly clear; I do not condone/endorse/associate with any cryptocurrency related to my art. this is also a lazy edit of my art and an obvious scam, if that wasn't clear.
I'm also going to make this clear; this isn't my account any more. as much as it hurts, as I've had it over a decade, my twitter isn't mine anymore. I miss my friends who haven't crossed over from that website. Just report the account/any posts that come out of it, because its not from me."
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is-this-fascism · 3 days ago
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if you ever see a video where someone offers a homeless person a job and they refuse to take the job, please understand it's not because they don't want help.
they just don't want whatever job is being offered.
last time i took a job offered by a rando who ascertained i was homeless, he tried to insist on giving me a ride (even though he knew i live in my own car). he also forbid me from smoking any cigarettes in his presence. he talked to me for about 5 minutes before saying 'well, i feel like i understand you now!' and putting me to work doing hard labor. i did my best, but after 4 hours of it my body was giving out because, obviously, i hadn't been spending my days hauling heavy logs recently. when i told him i wasn't sure i could keep going that day, he looked at me judgementally and begrudgingly paid me. i had made it clear i'd only have enough energy for part-time work.
now, he paid me for this, but there were several red flags that made me wary of working for him again. despite the fact he claimed he was helping me, he barely communicated with me beyond giving orders and telling me stories about how his pets died. he tried to make sure i didn't have my own vehicle on his property. he wanted to control my cigarette use. he bragged about his wealth coming from real estate.
i'm not sure even he realized these things were red flags, because in his mind, doing work for a boss is how homeless people get on their feet, and he was doing A Good Thing by giving me an opportunity to work.
this is just one example, but when i talk about 'savior complex' people, this is what i'm talking about. many homeless people have taken jobs offered to them before, and for one reason or another they decided it was not safe or advantageous to continue that job. if a homeless person rejects a job, there's always more to it than drugs and laziness.
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mulloey · 3 days ago
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Can you write a full length fic of boyfriends!sanhwa reminding the reader who she belong to after someone tried to flirt with her at party and she was too oblivious to understand and went with it?
Can you include overstim and them having the reader on their lap. And a bit of size kink on sanhwa's part.
Do not include: mxm, misogynistic terms like whore and slut.
too sweet
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san & seonghwa x fem!reader
words: 1k
join my taglist
warnings: overstim, punishment, soft doms!sanhwa, kind of innocent!reader, reader is smaller than sanhwa, big size kink (you’re referred to as small, tiny, little etc)
“Do you understand now?”
Seonghwa’s voice is low and teasing in your ear, making you squirm in his hold; he has you on his lap, your legs spread apart and held in position by his own strong thighs. His arms are wrapped around your torso, stroking your flushed skin as you sob through another orgasm.
You don’t know how many you’ve had now, nor how many you’re yet to endure; San’s fingers pump in and out of your pussy relentlessly, his other hand holding a vibrator firmly against your swollen clit. You writhe pathetically in Seonghwa’s arms but you all know it’s pointless; they could overpower you in your sleep, and when they’re this determined to teach you a lesson, there’s nothing you can do but take it.
“Yes, Hwa,” you hiccup. Your voice is tiny and pathetic, hoarse from screaming and begging for God knows how long. “Hwa, m’ sorry, please.”
He laughs softly into your skin, lips trailing across your neck. “Oh I know, honey,” he coos. “It must hurt so much, huh?” His voice drips with condescension and you know he doesn’t actually care if it hurts; he wants it to hurt, wants you so drunk on pleasure that you can’t think of anything except them, their hands, and how sorry you are for being so bad.
And you were really, really bad—or so they said. You don’t think it’s fair, honestly, to be punished for something you didn’t even know you were doing, but you’re not silly enough to protest; Seonghwa in particular hates when you try to weasel out of a punishment, sees it as the ultimate form of disobedience—so trying to talk yourself out of this would only have made it worse. For the nth time tonight your safeword dances on your tongue but you have no intention of using it. They know as well as you do that you absolutely adore being used like this.
Still, it would be better if this wasn’t happening as a punishment; then you’d be able to ask San to take it slower, or to pull his fingers out and fuck you instead. But if that’s what you wanted, then maybe you should have been more careful.
They knew they shouldn’t have taken you to that party. A company event filled with other artists and staff, it was all too easy to lose you in the crowd; you were smaller than most of the people, a social butterfly, and endlessly optimistic of people’s intentions. For just ten seconds San had looked away from you to chat with one of his stylists—but that was all the time it took for you to slip away.
It was Seonghwa that found you chatting happily with one of the choreographers. To be fair to the guy, he was new and didn’t know the nature of your relationship to them yet; but that didn’t make the sight of him leaning against the wall with his hand on your arm any more pleasant. And you, sweet thing that you were, had no idea what he was doing.
He got you out of there quickly, both of your boyfriends bundling you into the car despite your protests; Seonghwa nearly broke the speed limit trying to get you home before he snapped and took you right there on the motorway.
You’re just too sweet for your own good. And the noises you make as you approach another orgasm certainly are.
You can’t bear to look at San anymore; the focus on his face and the bulging muscles of his arms as he works you open are only turning you on more, so you bury your face in Seonghwa’s neck, crying pitifully into his hair. You shudder through your next orgasm, barely in control of your limbs anymore and San kisses your cream-covered thighs. “Pretty girl,” he croons. “Naughty girl.”
“M’ sorry,” you whine. “Sannie, please, I can’t—”
“Yes you can,” Seonghwa says with a sweet smile. “You’re gonna, baby.”
San hums in agreement as he resumes his assault on your aching cunt. “Such a pretty pussy,” he purrs. “So tiny for us. Only for us, right?”
“Y-yeah,” you whisper. “Only for— only for you. Only for Sannie and Hwa.”
“Good girl,” Seonghwa says. “Such a sweetheart, learning her lesson so well. Isn’t she, Sannie?”
“She is, yeah. One more orgasm, baby, then I’ll fuck you, alright?”
You nod dizzily, barely aware of what’s going on; just as your last orgasm approaches, San pulls the vibrator away and attaches his mouth to your clit, sucking harshly at it and it’s all takes for you to come crashing over the edge, releasing onto his face. He comes up with a grin, mouth and chin wet with your juices as he pulls you out to Seonghwa’s arms and into his own. He pushes you down on the sheets, hovering over you. “Hi, tiny,” he smiles. “Want me in your pussy?”
“Yes,” you say breathlessly. “And— and Hwa?”
San’s smile widens and you hear Seonghwa laugh from next to you. “Silly girl,” he says. “How am I gonna fit in there with Sannie? You’re too little, baby, we’d tear you open.”
“Don’t care,” you say. Your voice is stubborn and San pinches your thigh in warning.
“Be good,” he mumbles. “Hwa’s right, honey. We’re too big to fit in that little pussy. But if you ask him nicely I’m sure he’ll fuck your mouth, right?”
“Right.” Seonghwa grabs your chin gently, turning your head to face him where he’s kneeling at the side of the bed. His eyes are soft and impossibly aroused as he looks you up and down. “Want me in your mouth, pretty?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “Please.”
“That’s not enough.” There’s a stern edge to his voice now that makes you shrink into yourself a little and his lips quirk amusedly when he notices. “You were really, really naughty tonight, baby. If you want me in your mouth you’re gonna have to beg for it, aren’t you?”
“Please,” you say. “Please, Hwa, I need— I’ll be so good. I won’t be bad again, I won’t let anyone flirt with me again, I swear I learnt my lesson, pl—”
“Sh, sh,” San soothes you with a chuckle, rubbing your pussy gently; the wet sounds make you blush. “We know, baby, good girl. Always so good.”
“You are,” Seonghwa smiles.
As you feel San start to push into you you feel the bed dip under Seonghwa’s weight as he climbs onto it. His dick is already leaking when he presses it against your lips.
“Open up, baby.”
ateez taglist: @pixie0627 @hon3ysun @bbdeongi @hwaromi @tangerineastronaut @fancypeacepersona @aloevendetta @lemonkait00 @uhh-awkward-rightt @whyokoa @miyaluvvsyou @yabbadabbatuh @mylovelymito
requests open!
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moonstonejpg · 2 days ago
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ours (k.bakugou x reader)
"your hands are tough, but they are where mine belong in"
sum. bakugou is having a bad week, thankfully his girl is always there to make the bad days a little better
cw: a little angst, fluff at the end!
i hate hate hate paparazzi!! loosely based off of this and the song ours by taylor swift
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It had been a rough week for Katsuki.
First, the hero rankings were announced, and he found himself at #15—not even in the top ten. And he swore it didn't bother him, that the rankings were just a stupid popularity contest. But you saw the way his shoulders slightly slumped in disappointment and the way his fists clenched so hard that the half-moon imprints of his nails in his skin stayed for hours after you had smoothed his fingers out.
It broke your heart to see him like that—and then yesterday he got into a silly fight with Izuku, one that was filmed and taken way out of context by thousands of people on the internet. Which in turn prompted the resurgence of people saying he didn't even deserve to be on the list at all, let alone at #15.
bakugou is mentally unstable lol
i worry about his gf tbh, those anger issues are a huuuge red flag
right?! i hope that poor girl gets out of that
she seems so sweet, he’s probably threatening her or something
It was just one hit after another for him.
And now, as he stares out the window at the crowd of paparazzi with a clenched jaw, the only thought in your mind is how this is strike three. All he wanted to do was take you out for a nice dinner to thank you for being so supportive this week, but he couldn't even do that without a swarm of media leeches waiting outside.
"Kats, we don't have to go. We can just stay here." You say quietly, worried eyes set on his tense shoulders.
"No," he growls, "I'm not letting them ruin this too." He positions himself in front of you before taking a few hesitant steps out the front door of your shared apartment building.
His warm hand envelopes your own, fingers threading through before tugging you behind him, half shielding you with his large body. The flash of the cameras and the noise of the crowd makes your vision blur, but Katsuki is moving fast, fingers tightly gripping your own while his gaze is laser focused on the awaiting black car parked on the other side of the street.
Everything is moving so fast, the shouts of the various reporters melting together around you. But you can't hear a word they say, the sound drowning out any specific words, until—
“Why him?”
And you nearly miss the step below as you freeze. The question has you rearing back as if you'd been hit, your eyes dancing towards the sound of the question. You see him right away, a male reporter who is nearly frothing at the mouth for a reaction. The reporter leans forward, eyeing you hungrily as he waits for an answer. And usually, you wouldn't give them any time of day, the daily harassment towards you and every other pro-hero and their significant other almost daily a good enough reason toignore any of their probing questions. But how could you ignore this?
“Why him?” you parrot back, white-hot anger burning through your body at a rapid rate. You don’t think twice before you’re ripping your wrist out of the blonde's hand and taking angry strides towards the reporter. You're nearly toe-to-toe with the man, and while he is a full head taller than you, he shrinks a bit from the look on your face.
Katsuki comes up beside you, gently tugging at your wrist.
“It’s not worth it.” He says lowly, looking down at you with something like sadness tinged in his eyes. And your heart cracks, picking up on the one thing he isn’t saying but you know he’s thinking.
That he’s not worth it.
And you can’t have that, you can't have Katsuki thinking that he isn’t worth any of this, because he is. He is worth everything, and despite being in each other’s lives for years now, the fact that he still doesn’t see that is devastating.  
Your body begins shaking from a mix of anger and adrenaline as you look at the crowd around you. A slow hush falls over the crowd, as if they are waiting with bated breath to see what you have to say.
“Because he is the kindest human I have ever had the pleasure of knowing; kinder than any of you will ever be. And what has he ever done to you to make you so obsessed with twisting every move he makes, every word he utters into something that makes him look like the bad guy? And for a quick buck? You all should be ashamed of yourselves.” After shooting a glare around the crowd, you keep your chin high as you grab a stunned Katsuki’s hand and drag him towards the car.
You gently push him in, keeping a hand smoothed over the back of your dress as you crawl in after him, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary.
The car ride to the restaurant is eerily quiet, and as the adrenaline begins to leak out of your body, your brain catches up to what you did. And yeah—they did need to be told off, but you start to wonder if this is something that will get him into trouble.
You weren’t a hero and you didn’t have a lick of media training, why did you think causing a scene would be a good idea? The thoughts spiral in, and you want to bury your face in your hands as dread slithers its way into your stomach.
When you get inside the building, you are ushered towards the back of the restaurant by the host, presumably to where your table is located. But before you round the corner, Katsuki is tugging you into a dimly lit closet, fingers making quick work of the lock. Even after the door is bolted shut, he stands and faces it, as you just watch the outline of the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders.
“Kats?” You say quietly, a hand hovering over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I just—”
He shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh pushing its way out of his mouth.  
“No, you—” He shakes his head again, then turns around to face you, his body crowding you up against the wall. His eyes are dark, twinkling with emotions you can’t place. Both of his hands come up to gently cradle your face, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“Have I ever told you that I love you?”
You blink up at him, confused.
“Not only was that the hottest thing I have ever seen, but—well, that was the first time anyone has stuck up for me before.”
“I would do it again—anything for you really. You’re worth it. And I know that’s hard for you to believe, but you are. They can say whatever they want, but I know in my heart that I do not deserve you, and that you ” You say quietly, eyes locked on his. He smiles, eyes shining, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple.
“Oh, my sweet girl.” He whispers in the dark of the room, thumbs caressing your cheeks.
“I love you Kats.”
“I love you too. Now, how about we ditch this place?” He asks, leaning back to tug at his tie, before bending forward to loop it around your neck. “I think that new ice cream parlor is open. So, sundaes on me?”
You nod, a giggle escaping when he bends down and tugs the ends of the tie, your body falling into him. He lets out a gentle laugh, the sound like a gentle breeze on a hot day. It has your smile stretching across your face, your heart singing in response.
He reaches down to unlock the door, but when he flicks the lock back, nothing happens. Katsuki tries again, but again, nothing happens. It doesn’t budge, not the second time he tries or the fifth, or even the tenth time he tries. On the eleventh try his hand slips from the lock, his eyes colliding with yours.
It’s silent for a few seconds, and then a laugh bursts out of him, followed by another and another. The sound has the grin staying locked in place on your face, relief flowing through you at the change in his mood.
“We—we’re stuck.” He gasps out, hands falling on his knees as he hunches over, deep laughs spilling out of him. It isn’t long before you are on the floor next to him, trying to catch your breath around your own laughter.
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dracophile · 2 days ago
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I'm imagining everyone lives in the same share house. Maybe intially kind of small, called "The Merry Lodge"--after it burns down in an "accident", it's rebuilt as "Sunny Side".
Luffy: That one guy you don't know how he got in to college in the first place or passes class because you only ever see him in the dining hall or causing some kind of trouble and doesn't even seem to have a major???
Zoro: Sports scholarship, competitive af over everything,always late because he got lost.
Nami: Double major in Cartography and Meteorology, causing her a lot of stress. She's very money conscious since she's a poor college student from out of state.
Ussop: Art Major with a minor in creative writing. Hustles people on the weekends playing darts.
Sanji: Ran away from his rich family, going to culinary school but also checking out hospitality classes.
Chopper: Young genius in pre-med. Very tried but trying his best.
Robin: Getting her masters/PHD in history. Has a tough reputation despite her easygoing attitude, but is ready and willing to put students in place as a TA.
Franky: Engineering PHD student. Was also on a sports scholarship but an accident required him to get a knee replacement young. Actually pretty fine with it since building things was his real passion. He and Robyn are like the RAs of the lodge, though only because they're the oldest.
Brook: At first everyone thought he was an anatomical skeleton--he just kind of appears in the background and was like a mascot for the house they assumed someone dresses up. Then, shockingly, they find out he is (or was) alive! (or gets possesed) He now is one of those Youtube musicians who everyone assumes just has a really good virtual avatar of a skeleton.
Not featured: JInbei, a professor who regularly helps this band of misfits out, because they're all good kids. who just get into a lot of trouble. regularly.
One Piece College AU ✏️☝️
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hees-mine · 2 days ago
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Always - L. HS
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Pairing: heeseung X fem reader
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, cursing, angst.
Genre: brothers best friend.
WC: 4k+
Posting this here because i want to get it out of my drafts since it’s been there forever it’s old so it’s not good but oh well lowkey want to make another story with this trope though 👀 a better one
-
“Sure you don’t want to come with?” Your brother Jake cracks open your bedroom door, checking with you one last time.
“I’m sure I’m not feeling well today, so I think I’ll just stay home,” you told him a little white lie, pulling your blankets up to your chest.
“Alright I’ll be back in an hour or so do you need anything?” He asks like the caring brother he is.
“Sleep,” you reply with a chuckle.
“Alright,” he laughs softly and turns off the light in your room.
As soon as you heard the door close from downstairs, you texted heeseung, your brother’s best friend and the guy you’ve been hooking up with for the past couple of months.
Ever since Jake introduced you to heeseung, there was definitely undeniable tension between the two of you, but you both ignored it cause he didn’t want to break the bro code, and you didn’t want to disappoint your brother, so both of you kept your hands to yourselves.
That seemed to be working until you both entered college together, and to celebrate everyone’s success of getting into college, one of your mutuals threw a house party you had to attend cause you were one of the people being celebrated, and obviously, so was heeseung.
That night, neither of you could keep your eyes off the other. It started out with flirty glances and winks from across the room; then, after a few shots, it progressed into you both dancing together, him behind you, holding your waist while you sway your hips to the beat, feeling the unmistakable hardness in his jeans.
The alcohol in your system and the way his hot breath fanned across your face whenever he complimented your figure had you melting into him, and what made you give in completely was the subtle but very effective rolls of his hips, his hard-on brushing against your ass had you pulsing and dripping with need, and evidently, he was just as needy cause the words finally rolled off his tongue. “Let’s go upstairs.” With one last glance around the party, your brother was nowhere in sight, and you both snuck off to a vacant bedroom where he gave you the best night of your life.
He fucked you so good after years of being pent up he released all of his want for you in one night, giving you round after round till you both were numb and shaking with unspeakable pleasure.
That night led you both to hooking up behind your brother’s back you both felt guilty that’s for sure but now that you had a taste of each other there was no way you’d be stopping anytime soon.
Which is why your fingers are excitedly moving across your keypad to set up another hookup.
“My brother just went to the mall. Do you want to come over?”
“Finally, I’ll be over in ten. Be ready when I arrive ;)”
You smile at his text and pull the blankets back, going downstairs to unlock the door for his arrival. You quickly go back upstairs, slipping off every article of clothing before getting back onto the bed and waiting for heeseung.
He seems to arrive earlier than ten minutes he may or may not have sped on the way there he parked a few blocks away to hide his car just in case and made his way to the door not bothering to knock cause he knew you always kept it unlocked for him and besides this was like his second home with as much time as he spent here with Jake he opened the door and headed upstairs straight to your bedroom.
He knocked gently his eyebrows raising with amusement cause the door was already cracked all he had to do was push it open and there you were sitting there looking all pretty underneath the covers. “Hey” he says quietly and steps inside shutting the door behind him.
“Hey,” you reply flirtatiously and peel back the covers, showing off your body.
He bites his bottom lip and tosses his jacket to the side of the room, easily slipping off his shoes, which he didn’t even bother to untie.
You watch him undress, your body already heating up with anticipation.
His shirt comes off next, and he walks to the edge of the bed and climbs on top, crawling over to you until he’s hovering over your naked body. “Always look so fucking pretty for me” he kissed your shoulder, and you wrapped your arms around his neck spreading your legs so he could get in between them.
“I try” You chuckle softly, and he captures your lips in a kiss slotting himself between your legs and pressing his semi-hard cock right against your pussy, causing you to moan of course, he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue inside of your mouth, exploring every last inch of you.
Tangling your hands in his hair, you bring him as close to you as possible, kissing him with just as much desire as he does with you.
When it becomes difficult to breathe, he pulls away the string of saliva between the two of you, getting lost as he starts to kiss down your neck. “Hmm, hee,” his hands trail down your sides, softly tickling your flesh before gripping your waist tightly and rutting himself against your naked pussy your wetness surely staining his sweats.
He nips at the skin of your neck, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as you buck your hips up into him. “Fuck baby, I can’t wait anymore” he pulls back, staring into your eyes, his eyes full of lust.
“That’s good cause we only have an hour,” you chuckle, running your hands down his chest til you reach the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down along with his underwear till his cock falls out he, ’s rock-hard precum leaking at the tip of his shaft twitching as he catches the way you stare at his length between your legs.
Once you pull his clothing down his thighs, he takes the reins, slipping the two articles down to his ankles, too impatient to get fully undressed. “Turn over. Wanna fuck that pretty little pussy from behind.”
Not one ounce of shame runs through your veins as you turn over on your stomach at record speed, presenting your holes to him.
“That’s it” he bites his lip spanking your ass, and watching it jiggle, he places both of his palms on your ass, kneading softly as he slots his length between your round ass cheeks. “Shit,” he whispers to himself, loving the way his precum stains your beautiful skin. “Ass up for me” You arch your back, burying your face into your pillows as you feel his tip prodding at your pussy lips. “Look at that pussy so wet for me” he slips his first finger in you, groaning at the feeling of your warm cunt clenching around his finger. He added another alongside his index one, and your walls welcomed him with ease. Your sticky wetness aids the process of stretching you out. “Fuck you’re taking my fingers so well could probably just slip my cock in you right now.”
“Yes please I can take it” you laid your cheek on the pillow heart pounding with anticipation as your breath quickens.
“Yeah? Want me to put it in you?” he curled his fingers inside you, causing your walls to clench yet again.
“Fuck yes, please stick it inside me, hee” Your breath gets sucked out of you the moment you feel his bulbous tip enter you.
You’ve been wanting this for the past few weeks and finally you were able to get what you’ve been craving for.
He lets out a sharp breath sinking his hard cock all the way inside you till he bottoms out. “So tight and warm,” he moans softly, his head rolling back as he holds your waist, adjusting to the wet sensation encasing his cock.
Your mouth parts in a gasp, legs going numb as you feel him stretch you out so good.
You grip the sheets, your walls clenching and unclenching around his thick pulsing cock.
He withdrew himself, pulling out until nothing but the tip was left inside and then thrusting forward, filling you up to the brim. “God damn, you always feel so fucking good,” he grunts, creating a steady rhythm sliding in and out of your wet pussy.
“Fuck” you breathe out, eyes tightly closing shut as you focus on the pleasure of his thick length rubbing against your walls so deliciously.
“Yeah? Feel good, baby?” He grabs hold of your shoulders for leverage, stroking your walls perfectly. “Taking it so deep for me,” he smirks, watching the way your pussy lips welcome his cock so warmly. “You like it deep, huh?” His eyes are lidded as he witnesses the sight of your juices, creating a creamy white ring of arousal around his base.
“Yes, love feeling your cock d-deep inside m-me fuck heeseung,” you whimper, unable to contain the way your walls squeeze around him.
“Fuck you’re so tight I’m not gonna last long,” he huffs, speeding up the movement of his hips. It felt too good to slow down the sound of his skin slapping against yours, making him even more feral. “Fuck fuck fuck” he lowers his hands to your waist, holding you still, but the force of his thrusts has you sliding up the bed, his cock head kissing your cervix with every thrust.
“Yes, please don’t stop right there,” you whine, toes curling as you gush around his cock, creating the wettest sounds you ever heard.
“Hear that baby? Your little pussy is talking to me. You must really be enjoying my dick, huh?” He asks, knowing full well you love how he fucks every single time.
“Hmm, yes,” you whine, feeling your high approaching.
“You close? I can feel you clenching on my dick so hard” he lets out a laugh, fingertips pressing into your sides, his balls loudly smacking your ass as his thrusts turn erratic.
“So close,” you mewl.
“M-me too gonna fill this pussy up make it even more creamy baby,” he grunts, thrusting like an animal in heat. Both of you are so close the familiar warm tingling sensation spreads throughout both your bodies.
You could feel it just a second away, but the sound of his phone ringing made you lose focus.
“Fuck” he grunts in frustration. His hand leaves your waist messily, reaching for his phone so he can shut it off and focus back on what’s really important, except when he reads the caller ID, his heart races. “Shit, it’s your brother,” he sighs, slowing the pace of his hips but still fucking his cock deep into you.
“Just ignore it,” you complain, wiggling your ass against him, trying to get him to speed up again.
“I can’t just keep quiet yeah” he takes a deep breath before answering. “Hello?”
“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to come over I was just at GameStop, and I bought a few new games” heeseung presses your lower back down, arching you further so he can reach even deeper, and you use every last ounce of strength not to moan out loud from the feeling of his thick cock reaching the depths of your pussy.
“S-sure, what time are you fuck-“ he hisses as another gush of wetness releases around his cock. “What time are you thinking?” He swallows thickly, his breathing becoming heavier with each stroke. He’s too close right now. As soon as the call ends, he’s gonna release his load deep inside your sweet juicy pussy and give you what you deserve.
“I’m on my way home in about fifteen. I’ll probably take a shower too, so in about half an hour,” heeseung tries his best to focus on what his best friend is saying, but it’s hard when your pussy squeezes his cock so tight.
“S-sounds good. I’ll come over in about 45 minutes,” he groans softly, but it could still be picked up over the line.
“You okay? You sound weird,” Jake says on the other line.
Heeseung panic’s initially but then comes up with the most feasible answer he can think of. “I’m good just out of energy getting in a really really good workout” he bites his lip to hold in a moan.
“Alright, well, enjoy your workout. See you tonight,”
“See you tonight” heeseung hits the end call button at lightning speed, and as soon as his phone hits the mattress, he’s gripping your hip and fucking into you like a wild beast, his thick cock fucking your walls to no end. You’re screaming mess nonstop, moans and cries of his name spilling from your pretty lips. “Fuck yeah, baby, scream my fucking name”
“Heeseung!” You cry even louder as he snakes his hand under your waist and starts rubbing your clit. “Oh fuck I’m coming. I’m coming, heeseung!” You shriek, your eyes rolling back as you shake violently on the bed, your pussy pulsating around him.
“Yeah, let go for me, cum all over this dick,” he hums. “Gonna pump you full of my cum, baby. Want that?”
“Yes,” you whimper breathlessly.
“Oh fuck I’m gonna give it to you” After one last thrust, he’s emptying his huge load in your hole. “Shit baby, I’m cumming, I’m cumming” he grunts, hips wildly bucking into you, riding out his high, drilling into your heat, and filling you up to the brim with his cum. “Shit baby,” he throws his head back, panting heavily.
“Hmm,” you moan in satisfaction, his hands running all over your body, helping you come back down from the earth-shattering orgasm. You sink into the mattress, and he lays on top of you, panting as he leaves stray kisses all over your cheek, lips, and shoulders.
You both lay like that for a while, regaining your strength and being able to move again.
Everything is silent save for the short breaths you both let out. “Shit baby, I want you again already,” he chuckles against your ear biting your lobe softly as he rolls his hips sensually, pushing his cum deeper in you.
“Hee,” you whine at the feeling of his cock inside you. “I wish we could, but my brothers gonna be home soon,” you whisper.
“Fuck I wish he would leave more often. Going weeks without feeling your pussy is torture,” he laughs and rests his cheek on yours, relishing in the aftermath before he gets ready to leave.
Just before he begins to part from your body, you both hear the front door shut. “Shit,” heeseung slowly pulls out of your hole, both of you hissing at the loss of contact as all his cum streams from your hole.
You popped up out of bed, searching for his clothes so he could get dressed and leave a thick trail of white dripping down your thighs. “I thought he said half an hour!” You whisper yelled
“Me too,” he says, hopping on one foot to put his shoes back on.
“You have to go now,” you tell him urgently and open your window.
“Really?!” He whispers, knowing the window isn’t exactly close to the ground.
“Yes, now hurry.” he walks past you and doesn’t miss the mess he made between your legs. “Fuck” he shakes his head in disbelief. He can’t believe he had to leave you like that. If he had it his way, he’d fill you up all night long, but sadly, your brother and his best friend had to ruin it. “Kiss me,” he quickly whispered, and you gave him a little peck on the lips.
He goes out the window doing his best not to make a lot of noise and trying to grab anything for some type of leverage so he wouldn’t slip and fall.
After he got about half way he let go dropping to the ground softly and scurrying to his car to wait inside for another half hour and pretend like he had just arrived.
With a sigh of relief, you went to the bathroom to shower before bed.
That was close, almost too close.
-
As close of a call as that was, that still wasn’t gonna stop you from seeing heeseung again.
You were quite literally addicted to him.
But he was having other thoughts.
“Are you coming over tonight my brother is out again” this time you’d called him instead of texting.
“Nah, last time was close enough, and to be honest, I don’t think we should push our luck. Let’s just call this off.”
“Call it off?” You’re a bit surprised by that you weren’t expecting that would be his response but you understood where he was coming from.
Not to say you liked it, though.
“Yeah it’s not worth it anymore id like to live and if your brother catches me balls deep inside his sister I doubt he’d let me live” he chuckles but you don’t really find it to be that funny especially how he said it wasn’t worth it anymore.
“Well… okay I guess I’ll see you next time you and my brother hangout” you mumble a bit disappointed but you understood it was risky and you can’t really blame him for calling it quits.
“You will, dollface. It was fun while it lasted,” you smile faintly.
“Yeah…. Bye,” he ended the call first, and you tossed your phone to the side, sighing. Who were you going to get sex from now?
That question would be answered within just a few hours. Apparently, not just heeseung was hanging out with Jake today, but his friend Jay as well. You knew him well. He hadn’t been around much lately, but you did have a good relationship with him.
And now that you think about it, he was attractive, nice, and a good friend.
You’re sure he’s probably good in bed, too.
“Hi, Jay!” You cheered as he entered, already putting your plan in motion.
“Hey y/n! It’s been a while.” he walks over to you, ready to give you a side hug, but you pull him in a full hug, pressing yourself against his body. “Did you miss me or something?” he laughs awkwardly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you just as warmly.
“Yeah plus I didn’t know you’d be coming over” you pull away from the hug hands still resting on his shoulders.
“Yeah, it was heeseung’s idea.” you both looked at heeseung, and he was just standing there already, staring at the two of you and your hands on Jay's shoulders.
“Good idea, heeseung. It’s nice seeing you after so long, Jay,” you smile, taking a seat.
“You too, y/n.” he offers you a warm smile, greeting everyone else as he takes off his jacket and shoes.
“Well, we were gonna play games, but since y/n seems excited to hang out with us, how about a movie instead so she can join us?” Jake suggested that since you weren’t into video games that much,
“Sounds good to me,” Jay agrees.
“No, id rath-“Heeseung got shut down immediately by Jake.
“Three against one, you lose; besides, we game all the time anyways,” Jake concluded and sat on the couch searching for a movie.
Once the movie was picked, you all went to the kitchen to prepare snacks and drinks for the movie night once you got all settled in, you took a seat on the couch when heeseung saw where you were sitting, he moved over to you, but since the conversation you both had last time you didn’t want to sit next to him you couldn’t be that close to him not when you were literally thirsting for him how could someone look so good in a baggy shirt and pants you had no idea, but your panties definitely did as they were already damp just feeling him so close was doing things to you.
The fact you couldn’t act on those things was torture.
So you got up and sat next to Jay, who was on the bigger couch, leaving heeseung to sit all alone. He watched you sitting next to Jay, laughing together at some scene in the movie that he couldn’t even pay attention to cause he was too upset seeing you both that close together.
Since when did you have so much fun with Jay?
Heeseung was unknowingly sulking each time you laughed or pushed Jay on the shoulder even the way you both ate out of the same bowl made him feel weird.
He folded his arms across his chest, jaw tightly clenched. After he saw you both feeding popcorn to each other, he had to stop watching you two before he lost it. “You got any alcohol?” He asked Jake cause he’d definitely need something to numb whatever dumb aching feeling that was in his chest.
“Top cabinet.” he nodded and stood up.
“The popcorn needs a refill,” you announced and went to the kitchen a few moments after heeseung.
“Woah, slow down,” you said and giggled when you saw him downing a bottle of liquor.
“I should say the same to you.” he chuckled and threw his head back, taking another shot.
“Come again? I’m not the one drowning in booze,” you laugh, opening another bag of popcorn.
“Yeah, 'cause you wanna drown in something else,” he mumbles to himself.
“What?”
“You heard me. I saw you all over, Jay. Wouldn’t it be better to fuck someone that isn’t friends with your brother?” He laughs while shaking his head.
“Ehh, I was with you, and it didn’t bother me,” you shrug. “Besides, I need to get it from somewhere,” you add in a joking manner, but he doesn’t take it that way.
“Not surprised”
“Excuse me?!” You say, feeling slightly offended you had no idea where this was coming from.
“Don’t act shocked. How the fuck do think that’s supposed to make me feel? When you’re all fucking over him after we just- just fuck it, whatever, I don’t care.”
“Heeseung, you’re drunk,” you replied, brushing his nonsense off.
“And you’re nothing but a fucking slut that can’t go one minute without a dick stuffed inside you before you go fucking running off to someone else” he raises his voice slightly, feeling his agitation grow.
“Shush!” You whisper. “What is it to you? You said it wasn’t worth it anymore. What do you think? I’m just gonna stop having sex because we’re not doing it anymore?” You say, confused.
“Cause I didn’t want to fucking get caught. I didn’t know you’d go out searching the very next day. We broke it off,” he sighs.
“What am I supposed to do? You’re obviously not an option anymore,” you say, getting defensive.
“I don’t know, maybe try a little harder to make something work between us,” he lowers his voice, picking at the label on the liquor bottle.
“Something like what? this was just casual sex”
“Casual?” He laughs softly.
“Yes, that’s what we agreed on,” you remind him.
“So all this time we’ve been screwing, you still just feel it's casual?”
“Yes, and so do you, 'cause you even said I wasn’t worth it,” you replied.
“Well, I fucking take it back, okay, I like you. It was never casual for me, and it’s only been a few days, but I fucking miss you already, and to see how quickly you moved on makes me upset, especially cause it’s right in front of me.”
“So why did you say it?” You ask.
“Cause I didn’t want to get hurt. I knew we couldn’t be public, and I thought maybe just ending things would lighten the blow, but it made it worse cause to see you all over Jay made me feel like shit hence why,” he holds up the bottle of liquor.
“Hee, I feel the same way, too, but when you said it wasn’t worth it anymore, I didn’t think you really cared about us that much, and Jay, I don’t even know. I think I was just trying to take my mind off of you, but I want you and you only.”
“Yeah?” He stands up walking over to you and resting his hands on your hips. “You really mean that?” He cups your cheeks his left hand caressing your face gently.
“Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner,” you breathe out, getting lost in his eyes.
“Me too, but I understand, sweetheart. It was complicated, and I’m sorry for what I said earlier and for raising my voice and for cursing,” he rambles, and you laugh softly, wrapping your arms around him.
“I know I forgive you, hee.” You kissed the tip of his nose.
“Thank you, baby,” he smiles, pulling you into his arms. “I know it’s still complicated, but I’m gonna try my best to navigate through this with you. I don’t know what telling Jake will mean for us, but I think we should.”
“I’m scared,” you mumbled into his chest, fearing the disappointment your brother might feel if he found out about you and heeseung.
“Me too,” he chuckled. “But I know no matter the outcome, I want to be with you always.”
Leaning back, you looked up at him. “You mean that?”
“I do.” he smiles down at you, kissing your forehead and swaying you in his arms.
Only time would tell what the outcome would be of telling your brother you’ve been seeing his best friend, but you found comfort in knowing that heeseung would be there for you always.
-
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