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ba9go · 4 months ago

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(nsfw) bestfriend!bakugou catches you sneaking over

🔞 minors please do not interact!!! nsfw under the cut

bestfriend!bakugou x fem!reader, college au (bkg & reader are both of legal age), masturbation, heavy petting, loss of virginity, degradation, teasing, praise kink, fingering, clitoral stimulation, rough sex

summary: you get caught masturbating in his bed

part 3/3 of the bestfriend!bakugou likes to sneak over series (completed)

back to part 1 (sfw) 💥 part 2 (sfw)

about a month after katsuki’s parents found out about you, his darling best friend since childhood and now his girlfriend, sneaking over late at night, they gave you a spare key to the house. you had initially refused their offer, red-faced and stammering profusely, “nononono, i couldn’t! this is too much—” but mitsuki kept insisting, and katsuki couldn’t stand anymore of her damn whining and told you to just take the damn key. you relented.

the next day, katsuki decided to hit the gym after school and told you to go home first.

“huh? but your mom’s cooking dinner tonight, isn’t she?” you frowned. it was a friday. you always ate dinner at katsuki’s on fridays.

katsuki raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “no shit?”

“then why would i go home? i’ll just wait for you to finish up at the gym and go back with—”

“i meant my home, dumbass.”

“i can’t sneak over when you’re not home!”

“who the fuck said anythin’ ‘bout sneakin’? you have a fuckin’ key, for fuck’s sake!”

for some reason, using the key to unlock the door later that day felt more egregious than all the other times you had snuck over to katsuki’s place. you thanked the stars that katsuki’s parents were working. that definitely made things slightly less nerve-wracking for you.

still, you couldn’t help but take your phone out to text katsuki.

you: suki

you: i’m home

katsuki’s reply came after a few moments (he always left notifications for your chat turned on, even at the gym).

katsuki💣: Ok

you: i’m gonna go shower

you: then i’ll revise for next wk’s history test

katsuki💣: Cool status report I guess.

you pouted at his dry response.

you: ure so mean

you: it’s weird doing things at ur place when ure not home

you: feels wrong

katsuki💣: The point of having a damn key is for you to come over

katsuki💣: Even when I’m not around

katsuki💣: I’ll see you later idiot

katsuki💣: Stop spamming me

you sighed. katsuki was right.

you: okayyyyy see you later

you: i love you

katsuki💣: You know I love you too

you smiled, reacting to his message with a ‘❤️’. katsuki was right about that too.

you showered and slipped into one of katsuki’s hoodies. on katsuki, the hoodie fitted his shoulders and broad frame just right, but on you, it was oversized.

you sat on katsuki’s bed and whipped out your notes and laptop to start studying. about two hours later, you found yourself increasingly bored. it was weird, not having katsuki around. even if katsuki was more or less silent when you two studied together, he’d always be there to check in on you occasionally, grabbing your hand to press gentle kisses on each of your knuckles, or grabbing an elastic band (he kept a few on his nightstand for you) to bun up your hair.

you contemplated texting katsuki, but it was already almost 5pm; he should be back anytime now.

maybe you should take a break from studying. you sighed, getting up from the bed to place your study materials onto katsuki’s desk. you plopped back down in bed, pulling the covers over yourself.

like this, you were completely engulfed in katsuki’s scent — sweet, musky caramel. you had always been addicted to katsuki’s smell. you wish he was here to hold you, in his big, strong arms. god, he’s so big. and fuck, he must’ve looked so good at the gym, in that black compression tee that you bought for his birthday last year. you can’t believe he’s your boyfriend. yours, yours, yours—

you eyes squeeze shut, and you can’t help the way your hips start grinding into the pillow between your legs. it’s so hot down there, and you just wish katsuki was here to hold you, touch you, make you feel good—

you gasped, and your hand moves downwards, beneath the waistband of your and into your panties. your pussy is soaking, dripping, throbbing, and you can’t help the tiny moan that escapes your parted lips. it had only been a month since you and katsuki had started dating, but you’ve been growing increasingly pent-up and frustrated; every time one of your makeout sessions got too steamy, katsuki would always pull away, kissing you sweetly on the forehead. you knew katsuki well enough to know that it wasn’t because he didn’t want you (fuck, you’ve seen, felt his erection press against your thigh so many times), but because he, the perfectionist that he is, wanted your first time together to be perfect.

you found it endearing, really, you had always known that katsuki has always been sentimental about things, especially when it came to you, but fuck, you wanted him, needed him.

“fuck, katsuki,” you moaned. you were getting impatient. you brought your fingers to your clit, rubbing quick, hard circles. you wanted to cum, fuck, your pussy— “feels too good. hnng— fuuuck, m’close, m’gonna cu—”

“feelin’ good without me?” you imagine katsuki on top of you, smirking down deviously at you, eyes bright with mischief. you whine, and your hand stops.

“fuck, m’sorry,” you whimpered, grabbing katsuki’s hoodie to pull it up to your face. you writhe, feeling your pussy throb in want as you inhale the scent deeply. “wanna feel good with you, wanna make you feel good, ‘suki, please, please, i’ll do anyth—”

the covers are ripped away from you, your body suddenly exposed to cold air. you gasp, eyes flying open to see— oh, fuck.

katsuki stands at the edge of the bed, and god, he really is in that damn compression tee, and you moan at the sight. your fingers continue moving against your clit for a moment, but you watch as katsuki’s eyes flickered down to the movement, to your bare, exposed, leaking pussy, and you cross your legs shyly.

“y/n,” katsuki grits out, dragging his eyes slowly up to meet your gaze. you wonder if you’re imagining the lust swimming in his eyes, or if it’s just your own lust that’s clouding your judgement. you bite your lip, embarrassment washing over you, but you can’t tear your gaze away from katsuki.

“y/n,” katsuki repeats. he doesn’t move. “tell me to fuck off, and i will.”

you look at him, standing at the foot of the bed, jaw clenched and fists balled into tight fists at his sides. his face is flushed, and you almost feel sorry for putting him in this situation.

“don’t go,” you whimpered. “need you, ‘suki.”

and suddenly, katsuki is on top of you, arms and legs caging your body while his hands cup your cheeks. he kisses you, and your lips fall open with an embarrassingly loud moan, and katsuki’s tongue forces its way into your mouth. you didn’t think you could want him more, but in that moment, feeling the wetness of his slick tongue against yours, you think you do. you rub your thighs together, already sticky from your juices.

katsuki pulls away, and you whine. he ignores the way you wrap your arms around his neck, trying to pull him back down for another kiss.

“ya sure ‘bout this?” katsuki says, voice gruff but stern. a hand goes to the top of your head and he ruffles your hair slightly, before ducking his head down to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “need ya to be sure.” he kisses your neck.

“katsuki,” you moan as katsuki begins suckling at the spot, biting and licking and sucking. “fuck me, please?”

katsuki groans, his hips falling as he finally grinds down against you. your hips move upwards reflexively to press your core against his. fuck, he’s so hard.

“you,” he growls accusingly. “said ya didn’t wanna come over, cuz it felt wrong?” his hands find their way to your hoodie (correction: his hoodie) and he tugs at it. you tug at his shirt in response, and he shifts backwards to undress himself. you do the same.

you stare at katsuki, clad in just his boxers. big, is all you can think as you stare at the obvious outline of his dick.

when he lies on top of you again, your naked bodies are pressed flushed against each other. this time, however, his hands are cupping your breasts, and he presses featherlight kisses on the top of your chest, making you whine.

“why did it feel wrong, huh?” katsuki presses, eyes darting upwards to meet yours. his touch finds your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers harshly. a smug smirk tugs at the corner of his lips at the drawn-out moan that the touch illicits from you. his hands continue moving down and down, tickling over your skin, until one hand ghosts over your leaking pussy. his other hand holds your waist.

he takes two fingers and drags them along the wet slit of your cunt, smearing your slick all over his fingertips.

“katsuki, fuck!” you cry out, voice a garbled mess as your hips stutter.

shamelessly, katsuki continues to tease you. he finally tears his gaze from yours as he brings his face down to your pussy. he looks at his fingers, coated and glistening in your thick juices.

katsuki brings his fingers between his lips, and sucks on them obscenely, sticking his tongue out to lick around them, between them—

you moan like a bitch in heat.

“is this why, hm?” katsuki pulls his fingers out his mouth with a ‘pop’. without warning, he shoves his fingers into your dripping cunt. your hand flies to your mouth, and you try to stifle your screams as he begins thrusting his fingers in and out.

“felt wrong cuz you knew you wouldn’t be able to control yourself, right?” katsuki demanded, eyes flicking hungrily between the fucked-out look on your face and your pussy. “you knew you’d start touching yourself like this, like a needy slut, the moment i’m not around to keep an eye on you.” he rubs a thumb against your clit, and you cum around his fingers.

your eyes squeeze shut, moaning and moaning as you tremble under his touch. katsuki continues rubbing your clit, relishing in your noises and the shivers that wrack through your body, until your hips are squirming away from overstimulation.

“dirty girl,” katsuki scolds, though his face is more smug than angry. “what am i gonna do with you, hm?”

“f— fuck,” you stutter through gritted teeth, still coming down from the highs of your orgasm. “fuck me, kats.”

“can’t hear you,” katsuki smirks. he pulls his fingers out of your dripping cunt, and pries your lips open with them until they’re shoved deep in your mouth. your eyes sting with tears and you start to choke as his fingers hit the back of your throat. “speak up, sweets.”

“f— fua—“ you tried to speak around his fingers, but your words came out a garbled mess.

“hah?” katsuki snickers. you’re too horny to be mad. “come again?” this time, katsuki relents, and pulls his fingers out of your mouth.

“fuck me, please,” you manage to choke out between your coughs. katsuki takes pity on you, you think, as he presses an apologetic kiss to the corner of your lips.

“slut.”

katsuki flips you over onto your belly, and you instinctively prop yourself on your hands and knees as he positions himself behind you. curiously, you twist your head to look at him and holy shit—

katsuki’s boxers are off, and his cock is so big. it’s thick and veiny, and you make a mental note to suck him off later, but for now, you let out an impatient whine as you back your hips to grind your ass against his cock.

katsuki clicks his tongue disapprovingly. he places his hands on your ass, kneading the soft, fleshy fat, as he lines his cock to your entrance.

you let out a moan when you feel the head of his dick press against your entrance. then, he presses in and—

“fuuuuuck—”

“fuckin’ hell,” katsuki groans, hands moving to hold your waist as he bottoms out inside of your pussy. his dick is so deep inside you. your pussy throbs and clenches around him. “such good pussy. so perfect,” he starts thrusting, and you start seeing stars.

“yer so good for me,” katsuki rasps, and you moan happily at the praise.

“yes, yes, yes, all for you, ‘suki, all yours, love you, love your dick so much,” you babble. your hands fumble around the bed until you find what you’re looking for - katsuki’s hoodie - and you pull it towards you before sinking your face into it. the smell drives you crazy.

“greedy girl,” katsuki says with a slap to your ass. his hips thrust into you faster, harder. “already fuckin’ you senseless, and you still want that thing? fuckin’ insatiable.” you try to apologise, for being such a slut, but as katsuki’s pace becomes punishing, you can only let out broken screams.

“shit, m’not gonna last like this, sweets,” katsuki pants shakily, hands gripping your waist even tighter. his thrusts become shallow and sloppy. “pussy’s too fuckin’ good.”

“s’okay, ‘sukiii,” you moan drunkenly, eyes rolling back. you’re already so fucked out, letting katsuki do all the work. “cum for me, wanna feel you cum inside me.”

one last thrust, and your words are pushing katsuki over the edge, and he barely makes it in time to pull out. as his cock spills warm, sticky cum all over your ass and back, katsuki lets out a stream of curses, groaning quietly. he swears you’re going to be the death of him.

he presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder blade.

“ya’d better not lose that fuckin’ key.”

is it obvious that i haven’t written smut in like 3 years

taglist (thank you for your support!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @literallyhere4noreason @nemisimp

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou katsuki #bakugou fluff #bakugou smut #bakugou imagine #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bakugou headcanons #bnha headcanons

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hansensgirl · 1 year ago

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☠️ — 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

summary. | Steve Rogers and his wife have a precarious arrangement in which she can have as many affairs as she likes, as long as she doesn’t ask for a divorce. But a man like him only has so much patience. And there you are, his child’s babysitter, too sweet to resist.

pairings. | Dark!Steve Rogers x baby-sitter!fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (brief), Peggy Carter x numerous OMCs (implied/mentioned).

warnings. | NON/DUB-CON (leaning more towards dubious consent), smut, age gap, Halloween celebrations, deceit, manipulation, Steve is mean to his wife, obsession, possessiveness, implied murder (not the reader), mentions of masturbation (m), fingering (f), kissing, nipple play, Sir kink, mild Daddy kink, creampie, dirty talk, power dynamics/imbalance, praise, mild degradation, pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, honey, baby, love), missionary, rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism, mentions of riding, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~4.8k

author’s note. | hello! happy belated halloween! i know i’m a bit late—i’m sorry. here’s the dark!steve fic i was talking about. it’s a Deep Water!AU. please enjoy and heed the warnings! thank you @cuttlefjsh for beta-ing and putting up with me! let me know what you think. thank you for reading! taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

The leaves fall apart underneath the pace of his feet. The hill slopes downwards, and the branches snap and hit the ground. Steve keeps pushing—keeps running even though he’s long devolved from a jog. The burn in his lungs is beautiful. He’s breathless.

For once, he doesn’t have to think about little Sarah and her mother. He doesn’t have to worry like a housewife, even though he was once the man of the house.

Millions in revenue. Two vacation homes. Endless income. But it’s never enough for her.

When Steve reaches the creek, he stops. The Apple watch on his wrist clocks in an unhealthy amount of steps. Unhealthy for everyone else, at least. He’s always been above average, and now he’s just like the rest.

Another greying head in the sea of a crowd. Another typical client his shrink has with the same old problems—a cheating wife, a midlife crisis.

His phone buzzes, and Steve half-expects a reminder he doesn’t need. But it’s better—so much better than he could ever predict.

It’s you—your name with a heart. His spouse doesn’t even have that—she’s just got her entire government name with “wife” in parentheses.

Hi, Mr. Rogers. Hope you enjoyed your weekend! I wanted to confirm that I’m coming tonight. I texted Mrs. Rogers yesterday, but I haven’t received a reply yet. Sorry to be pushy. I just need to know in time. Thanks, and Happy Halloween! 🎃

He sighs. He’s never understood why you always go to Peggy first, even though you’ve seen her incompetency more than you do your own family. He’ll have a talk with you tonight—while Peggy is out on a date with her latest suitor.

Hey, honey. I hope your weekend is as wonderful as you are. Yes, we’re still on for tonight. Don’t worry about my wife. From now on, just come to me, okay? Be here by 7:00, please. Thanks. Happy Halloween! 👻

Steve replies a few minutes later, but you read his message immediately. The timestamp makes him smile. Soon, the ‘typing’ icon pops up and following it is your message.

Great, thank you so much! See you then :)

You even leave a ‘heart’ on his text message; he does the same to yours. A sigh escapes the older man’s chest. His heart has returned to its regular rate, and the sweat on his back has cooled.

The scene before him is gorgeous—but doesn’t even hold a candle to your beauty. The thought of you is more addictive than any illicit substance. It calms him down when he needs to and riles him up at the worst times.

Steve says it’s not fair. Peggy shouldn't have all the fun with her boyfriends—even when her husband gets rid of them quicker than need be. It’s exhausting to deviate from law enforcement for a woman who doesn’t care about her own family.

She gets to devise grand schemes and say mean words to him. She doesn’t bother with her own daughter. She doesn’t lift a finger or pay for a thing with money she earned. Steve has to live in the shadows—and he’s tired of it.

The almost 50-year-old man follows his usual trail back home. Sirens pass behind him, heading toward some emergency that he undoubtedly has nothing to do with. Not this time, at least.

He feels like a dog in the manger. Everyone can have Peggy (to a certain extent), but he can’t have anyone himself.

Fake cobwebs and pumpkins sit outside houses on each side of the road. It’s the spookiest night of the year, yet you have no plans. No parties to attend with some stupid little boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you the way he would.

When Steve unlocks the front door, he finds his wife’s heels strewn on the floor and his daughter watching cartoons in the living room. He kisses Sarah’s head and ensures she’s eaten the entirety of her breakfast. He tried his best with ghost-shaped pancakes, though they turned out more like blobs than anything. She doesn’t mind at all.

Sarah’s a brainiac, her new hobby being those kits that teach you how to hook wires into potatoes and other vegetables. Steve applauds her creations every time she shows them off, noting the little technological genius in her that he must’ve contributed to.

That is, if he’s her biological father.

The television screen plays her choice of cartoons, with a Halloween theme for the special day. He smiles when she laughs before heading upstairs.

Peggy has the largest room with the nicest furniture. She spends little time there unless she’s getting ready to go out or recovering from a hangover.

Steve knocks on her door. Despite there being no answer, he unlocks it and lets himself in. His wife is wide awake, eye makeup smudged a bit, but she’s wearing her signature jeans with a tank top.

She turns around and smiles at the sight of him. “What do you think?” she asks, gesturing to the costume she has laid out.

It’s a vampire—that’s as much as he gathers. The little voice in his head tells him how fitting it is—Peggy has sucked the life out of him for the last seven years.

“Perfect,” Steve tells her, giving her his most forced smile, and they both know she sees right through it.

“Good. And what are you going as?” she questions, turning her back to him. He genuinely contemplates this for a second.

For the last few years, he’s always worn a cheap cape and said he’s a superhero. But he’s tired of the same thing all the time.

“I’m not sure. I’ll come up with something, though. What time are you leaving?” Steve asks. “Oh, probably around six. Don’t wait up for me. You’ll take Sarah trick-or-treating, right?” Peggy smiles, unwilling to take ‘no” for an answer.

Steve says nothing and simply leaves. He takes his phone out of his pocket—sleek screen and a photo of you and Sarah as one of his wallpapers—and pulls up his conversation with you.

Hey, hon. Do you mind coming a bit earlier? 6:30 will do.

He doesn’t even have to wait for your reply.

Sure! Do you want me to stay the night, too? I don’t mind.

Always diligent. Always a sweetheart.

Please do. The door will be unlocked.

You give his message a thumbs-up, and he sighs.

Tonight will be the night. Tonight, he’ll finally get what he wants, and no one can stop him. Not even you.

You give the door a knock three times, even though you’re more than welcome to simply enter. It feels wrong, though. Too familiar, too casual.

Halloween is one of your favourite holidays. It’s a day full of excitement and creativity, and the month leading up to it is terrific. The turning leaves and the cold weather that lets you wear your coziest sweaters. The candy is the cherry on top of the entire delicacy.

You’ve never been on for extravagant costumes due to your procrastination. Tonight, you’re an angel. You don an all-white get-up; a lace dress, sheer tights, and matching shoes. You have a borrowed halo on your head and floppy wings on your back. It’s the best you can do for now.

Steve opens the door a few moments later, and he’s wearing a black suit. His hair is gelled, and he has a toothy grin—a change from his usual scowl. You smile at the sight of him.

“Happy Halloween!” you cheer, and he laughs. “Happy Halloween, sweetheart. What are you supposed to be? The devil?” he jokes. “Hardy-har-har. I’m an angel. But what are you? A CEO?” you ask, raking your eyes up and down his body.

The older man basks in your attention, his ears burning red.

“Actually, I’m a groom. Something different from the superhero thing, you know? It was the only thing I could come up with,” he sheepishly admits, and you wave his shyness away. “I love that! I never see anyone do something simple yet unique. But no decorations?”

You glance back at his front lawn and see nothing but withered flowers and yellow leaves from the neighbour’s over-arching tree. His porch simply has a bowl of candy with a threatening “TAKE ONE (1)” sign, assumingly written by Sarah.

“Nope. But there’s always next year!” he reassures. You giggle and nod your head. Your cheeks burn from smiling so much. Do you find him amusing? Or is it forced? Steve has numerous questions running through his mind, some exciting the butterflies in the attic that is his stomach, and some boiling his blood.

“C’mon in. No jacket? You must be freezing. You’re better than that, honey,” he chides like the father he is. He locks the door behind you—chain and all. “I didn’t think it’d be this cold,” you admit, removing your shoes. Steve takes them from you and places them on the rack where Peggy’s usual ankle boots would be.

You note the absence of her items and the lack of noise from the television. You don’t pay them much mind.

“Ah, rookie mistake. If you want, you can borrow a jacket from me,” he offers, picking up a stray black feather from the floor. You set your small backpack on the bottom step and follow his lead.

“So… What’s Sarah’s costume? She kept talking about being a minion, and then a cow, so I’m not too sure,” you laugh, and Steve does the same. “Peggy wanted her to be one of those Mario characters, but you know Sarah. Tonight, she’s Albert Einstein. Including the wig, of course.”

When you enter the clean living room, you expect to see her adorable face dressed as the notorious physicist. But she’s not there—and neither are the family photos.

“Um, sir, where is she?” you question, and he gestures to one of the sofas. You take a seat and wait for his return. He comes back with two drinks and hands you one of them. “Sarah is at her grandma’s. Peggy is at one of those parties she always goes to,” Steve coolly explains.

“Oh, are we going there? Or do you want me to stay back and give candy out?” You take a sip of your drink—a cherry limeade you once raved about to him. The sparkling water fizzles on your tongue. “No, she’ll be going trick-or-treating with her cousins.”

There’s a beat. A moment. And it lasts for a while.

“Uh, so what am I doing here?” you query. “Sweetheart. I’m a bit disappointed. You probably think that’s all I want you here for, don’t you? C’mon, you’re more than a babysitter to me.”

Steve places emphasis on his last word. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers, but I really don’t understand what you’re implying,” you profess, downing more of your drink out of sheer nervousness. Are you being fired? Are they moving? Did you do something wrong?

“Oh, honey, c’mere,” he says, even though he comes to you. He moves from his position across from you—standing tall in his full, towering height. Steve sits down next to you and places his large, warm hand on your cold left thigh. “Don’t be scared. M’not gonna hurt you. You’re not in trouble,” he says in a low tone.

When he’s this close to you, you can see the details of his face entirely. Whenever you’ve tried to admire him from afar, it’s like he knows when you’re looking.

“You’re so sweet… So pretty. I bet you’re nice and soft, too, hm? And you’ll be a good girl for me?” he asks, and you furrow your brows. You open your mouth to say something to him, but you’re quickly shut up with a searing kiss.

Steve presses his lips against yours, and it’s better than anything he could have ever imagined. The fantasies he’s had during those late nights or showers with his fist wrapped around his cock don’t even compare.

He takes charge, pushing his tongue inside your mouth and exploring within. His strong hands scoop you into his lap, one of them holding the back of your head. You lean back as Steve’s forwardness dominates you. You’re not sure what to do, so you place your palms on his shoulders and use a bit of force to try to push him away.

The married man doesn’t budge. It’s getting hard to breathe, and you feel like he’s sucked the air out of your lungs. You sink your teeth down lightly on what you think is his tongue, and he hisses as he pulls away.

“Sir– We can’t do this. It isn’t right. I– I mean, you’re my boss, and you have a wife—and poor Sarah, she doesn’t deserve this–”

“Fuck Peggy. Do you really think she cares? I don’t love her, never have. I only love you, darling. Now, what you just di–”

“Love me? Mr. Rogers, I think you’re mistaken. Maybe it’s just because we’re alone, or you and Peggy have been distant, but you don’t love me, Sir. I won’t mention this to anyone, I swear. And I’ll find another job if you’d like,” you breathlessly explain, shaking your head.

Steve shushes you with a snarl. “You’re not leaving me.” His voice is stern, and his tone says it all—there’s no arguing. “Please,” you try to get off the older man’s lap, but he holds onto you tightly. “We’re perfect for each other, honey. Don’t you see? Sarah loves you, and you love her. And look! I’m your groom, and you’re my angelic wife,” he exclaims, pulling the halo and ripping the wings off.

You gasp at his strength and audacity. You’d try to fight him, but you know you’d end up more hurt than anything. “Please don’t make this difficult,” he demands, adding your name. The mention makes you flinch, as he rarely says it.

“Look at those eyes… All blown out. I bet you’re soaking, aren't you?” Steve asks, but you don’t reply. His blue irises seem much darker in the dim lighting. His pupils are wide, and it’s like looking at a man who’s been possessed. “You’re probably making a mess of your panties, and we’ve barely even started. Does that always happen when you’re around me? Gosh, I bet you smell so sweet.”

His words make you whimper, and he smiles. “Oh, and look at those perfect tits,” he hums, groping them. Your nipples are stiff as peaks, and the rough touch from Steve has you shuddering. “Pl– Please,” you beg as he pulls at the nubs. The pain teeters on pleasure, and you squeeze your thighs to put an end to the thrumming at your core.

“‘Please,’ what, sweetie? Hm?”

“Please, Sir,” you whisper.

The title makes him groan. “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting you,” Steve expresses. You don’t want to know. “Ever since we met… D’you remember that floral dress you wore? That you kept pulling up? God, I wanted to take you right there…”

You remember that day all too well. Seeing Mr. Rogers in all his glory was riveting, and the slight crush you developed lives on. Now—you’re not sure. Your brain is a mess, and you can’t think straight.

Your boss lifts you up bridal style, and he doesn’t let this go unnoticed. “See? We were meant for each other, honey. And we don’t even need a wedding.”

He sets you down on the bed in the room on the main floor. You’ve stayed here from time to time when Peggy likes to come out at two in the morning, and Steve is beyond worried for her.

Was it all a farce? You remember those times and how he never called her or insisted on picking her up.

Steve’s hands pull at your cheap dress, and he rips it down the middle. You regret your choice of not wearing a bra, but either way, it would’ve done nothing.

He cups your breasts, and you moan at the touch. He latches his mouth onto one nipple as he plays with the other. His mouth is skilled—his tongue flicking and teeth slightly grazing the sensitive skin.

Mr. Rogers’ fingers are just as talented. They pinch, pull, and twist at your other peak simultaneously. He switches eventually, and you’re a puddle beneath the imposing man.

Your back is arched slightly, and you’re practically pushing your chest into his face, and he chuckles. “So desperate. You need me so badly, don’t you?” he says, nodding his head and smiling when you mimic him for a split second. “Atta girl—so good for me.”

Steve pulls back, and you whine. He soothes you and pulls his jacket off. You can see the ripples of muscle beneath the white collared shirt. He unbuckles his belt with swiftness. You gnaw on your bottom lip despite its swollenness.

Soon, he’s back on you. Your boss hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and he pulls them down your legs, admiring the strings of slick that break from the distance. He pushes the cloth into his pocket, and you clench when you think of the things he’ll do with it later on.

In your mind is a tiny voice that chides your every wrongdoing—how you haven’t fought back as much as you should. But there’s a louder one that was once lovesick over the married man before you, and it’s far more convincing.

Steve spreads your legs and curses at the sight of your sopping cunt. You involuntarily clench from the exposure. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over you. One arm keeps him up, and the other bends your knees, giving him better access.

His fingers slide against your folds, collecting wetness as he caresses your lips. You let out a pleasured sigh, secretly wishing he would stop tormenting you and just get it over with. “So sensitive, too. I bet you’ll make such a mess on my cock.”

You never knew Steve could have such a filthy mouth—and God, do his words have your head spinning.

He quickly finds your swollen, throbbing clit and lightly touches it. The sensations on your little pearl are mild, but they’re enough to have you writhing beneath Steve. He draws light circles with the tips of his fingers. Your mouths brush against each other, and he teases you until you’re whispering pleas against his lips.

“Shh… It’s okay, love,” he reassures. Once he knows he has you worked up enough, Steve pushes the first digit into your pussy. The intrusion has you gasping, which turns into a whimper when he shoves another in. “Lookatcha, honey. You’re takin’ my fingers like a champ. This cunt is so tight, though. I’m really gonna have to stretch ya to fit my cock in there.”

The idea of his large cock barely fitting inside you makes your muscles involuntarily constrict against Steve’s fingers.

It takes a moment for you to adjust to the intrusion, though your walls welcome him like a familiar friend. His fingers are longer and thicker than yours, and with ease, he reaches that sweet spot most boys your age miss.

Eventually, Steve begins to fuck you on his hand. His digits slide in and out of you with ease as he picks up the pace. The skin glistens from your slick, and it’s a sight to behold. He creates a scissor motion with his two fingers every now and then, stretching you out while having you at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long for your moans to get louder while your face forms a frown of pleasure. The squelching sound of your cunt and that build-up just above your core are tell-tale signs that you’re about to come. “Oh, sir…!” you wail, and Steve picks up the pace.

“I can feel that cunt clenching on me, honey. God, you’re so beautiful this way. C’mon, make a mess on my hand. Come for me,” he rasps, rubbing his cheek against yours.

Your eyes squeeze shut when you come undone on Mr. Rogers’ hand. Your aching hole squeezes his fingers, and he makes you ride your orgasm out. Your back arches, and you let out a loud moan as pleasure shocks every nerve in your body. The lewd sounds of your cunt are noisy.

You find yourself immediately wanting more, even though you shouldn’t.

“Good girl—such a good girl for me,” Steve coos before slowly sliding his fingers out your channel. Your inner walls already miss the presence of his digits. You struggle to catch your breath, but in the midst of it all, you hear your boss pull the zipper to his pants down.

“I can’t wait to get inside of you, sweetie. I need you so badly it hurts,” he says while pressing kisses against the side of your neck. Steve climbs on top of you as he frees his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.

He grips himself by the base, his entire hand wrapped around his hardness. He gives himself a few strokes as pre-cum leaks from his slit, sliding down his bulbous head. His size is marvellous, a raging purplish-red with a thick base. Steve slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, and you flinch from the unexpected jolt of pleasure. “Fuck…” he curses.

“Are you looking, sweetie? This is such a special moment for us—I hope you remember it well,” he hums in your ear, and out of your natural obedient instinct, you lift your head to where you two are about to be connected. The sight of Steve’s cock makes you whimper. “Shit, what a good little slut.”

He drags the head of his dick through your dripping folds, and then he pushes in. The sudden stretch causes your skull to fall back against the bed. You try to close your legs, but Steve’s presence makes that impossible. He refuses to let you hide what’s his.

The older man completely sheathes himself inside your pussy. The squelching sound has you cringing in shame, but that quickly disappears when the feeling of fullness takes over. Steve’s balls touch your ass when he bottoms out, and your breathing is rapid from the sensuality of it all.

A hand wraps around your throat—though gentle, it scares you at first. Your eyes meet with Mr. Rogers’, and he looks at you with what appears to be adoration.

“You feel just like heaven,” he simply tells you. “I’m never letting you go after this—never was plannin’ on it, anyway.”

Before you can even process his words, Steve starts to fuck you. His pace is slow at first, and he hits your sweet spot with ease—a feat most boys your age are incapable of. Your moans are wanton and loud, teetering on the verge of pathetic for someone who was fighting against him at first.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, and your reaction makes Steve smile. “You love this, don’t you? Yeah, always knew you needed a real man to fuck this cunt.”

His thrusts are a bit quicker now, and he pulls in and out of your wet pussy roughly. The sound of skin on skin is thunderous, nearly covering up the wet noises from your stickiness. His thick cock shines from your juices. Steve ruts into you like a starved man��because he is one.

His pelvic bone hits your clit every now and then, and his swollen, heavy balls are against the curve of your ass. He’s relentless in claiming you as his, sucking, biting, and licking at the skin on your neck.

“Oh my God—Steve–” you mewl, the pleasure blooming inside you almost too much to handle.

“What’s wrong, honey? Are you gonna come again?” Steve questions with faux pity. He punctuates each word with a thrust, fat cock pushing into your tightness. “What a pathetic little slut, making such a big mess on her boss’ cock. And I’m married too. You just can’t help it, can you?” he teases, and his filthy words have you squeezing his length from the filthiness. He lets a groan out from the feeling, and he keeps the fervour going.

That elastic band inside your stomach begins to tighten, and you can feel another orgasm build up quickly. “Go ahead. Make a mess on Daddy’s dick, baby,” he urges, and as if on command, you cream around his thickness.

Your back arches off the bed, but you don’t go anywhere far with Steve’s chest keeping you pressed down. Your hardened nipples rub against the cloth of his shirt, and the added friction makes your climax all the more breathtaking. The older man pounds into your cunt vigorously.

Stars appear in your vision until you come back down. Mr. Rogers doesn’t stop fucking you, forcing you to endure the overstimulation. Even with your legs shaking, he refuses to give up. “Good girl—such a good whore for Daddy,” he praises. The tip of his cock pummels against your G-spot continuously.

Your tits bounce with each push of Steve’s cock. Sometimes, he grazes your cervix, but the mild pain dulls away when he presses chaste kisses to your face and brutalizes your g-spot. “‘S too much,” you mumble, legs involuntarily trying to close. “Nu-uh—It’s enough when I say it’s enough. Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna fill up that pretty pussy real soon,” he says, and as if on cue, there’s a change in the way he pounds into your cunt.

His thrusts become more sloppy, but they keep the same passion and desperation that he started everything with. There’s an intensity you can’t describe because it just feels so fucking good. The hand on your neck moves and begins to caress the rest of your body. Your pulsating walls hug him, practically refusing to let go. Your skin is hot and sticky, just like his—if not more.

Wandering hands grope your body, going pliant underneath Steve. Guttural groans leave Steve’s mouth while you’re gasping endlessly. “Shit—you were made for taking this dick, sweetie. I’m gonna fill you up until you’re leaking down your thighs,” he promises, and the threat of it sounds terrific to your fucked-out mind.

“Be a good girl and soak Daddy’s cock one more time,” he orders. The blur between your previous climax and the one that takes you over now has your head spinning. You grasp the bedsheets from the overwhelming pleasure. A silent scream leaves your mouth, which Steve accompanies with a grunt followed by a string of curse words. “Fuck.”

You squeeze Steve’s length tightly, soaking him in your wetness. Electric shocks run down your spine and unto every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating for a split second. You’ve never come that hard—ever. It’s difficult to breathe, and Mr. Rogers is mean enough to make you take the euphoria he’s doling out.

Wetness stains the skin that surrounds where you two are filthily connected. Your ass is sticky, and some of your cream stains the trimmed hair at the base of Steve’s shaft. It’s a mess—one he intends on adding to with his semen.

His cock twitches inside your pussy, and with a final shove, he stills with his pelvis pressed against your clit. Steve’s balls clench, and he shudders as he reaches his own high. Ropes of cum spurt from the fat tip of the older man’s cock, painting your insides. The feeling makes you whimper as you’re filled to the brim with his seed.

For a few moments, Steve stays in that position, catching his breath while he recovers from his orgasm. Your eyes dance along his face, taking in the pinched yet relaxed look he dons.

Eventually, your boss resurfaces from the depths of his climax. You’re more than exhausted and have half a mind to fall asleep right then and there.

But the sound of the front door opening and closing shocks you from your stupor. Worry is written all over your features when Steve looks at you. “Aw, don’t worry, honey,” he hums, and though it may seem impossible, you can feel him get harder inside your pussy,

Whether it’s your evident fright or the thrill of getting caught, you’re not sure. Both make you dizzy.

Peggy’s notable accent slurs a call for Steve. “Think we should put on a show for her?” he jokes, grinding his cock further into your pussy.

You’re sure that no matter what you say, he won’t listen. And what will follow will be a nightmare you can’t escape.

But those thoughts ebb away when you hear your other boss curse a storm and abruptly leave, even though she hasn’t walked in on the pornographic scene that’s taking place in the guest room.

“Well, there’s always next time—if she’ll even make it,” Steve grumbles under his breath, but the words are too vague for you to dwell on them. “Think you’re up for round two, love? I wanna play with those tits while you ride my cock.”

For the nth time, your body betrays you and tells him your true desires. Either way, he still would’ve gotten what he wanted. Steve Rogers always gets what he wants.

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elllisaaa · 14 days ago

Text

CRY FOR ME - P. SUNGHOON

KINKTOBER DAY 18 - DACRYPHILIA + SPANKING

SUMMARY : sunghoon is gentle enough to indulge in your book addiction. what he cannot bear is when you're ignoring him to read and fawn over some guy who doesn't even exist. he spoils you so it's only fair he takes what he wants from your body as a reward for being such a good boyfriend.

-> pairing : rich!sunghoon x bookworm!reader

-> words count : 1.9k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, dacryphilia (obviously), spanking (obviously too), jealousy, use of 'good girl' & 'doll', unprotected sex, praise kink, begging, dirty talk, choking, creampie

+ the way i'm depicting sunghoon does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | enha masterlist | kinktober 2024

Sunghoon had always found your love for books and literature endearing. He loved to listen to you talk about your current reading, he loved to watch you read and get excited and invested in the plot, he simply loved how happy it made you. And just because he could, he was the first to buy you new books, even when you didn’t ask for them. You could’ve just mentioned in passing one new title that seemed promising, and you would wake up the next morning with the exact book on the kitchen counter with a note from Sunghoon.

Sunghoon spoiled you for sure, but he loved to do it. What he didn’t love, on the contrary, was when you bragged about how hot this or that character was. He never made any comments about it, because it was stupid to be jealous about some fictional men that didn’t even exist when he was your boyfriend, but sometimes, he still felt a little tingle of possessiveness when you drooled over Azriel or Cardan.

“- What are you doing, doll ?

- Oh, I’m just starting a new book Aeri recommended to me.”

Sunghoon kept his eyes on you as you went to sit down on the couch and opened the book to the first page. He got back to his work for a moment, letting you read in peace, until he heard you squeal in excitement and he felt the need to look at you again. You were giggling and kicking your feet to what was written down on the pages.

“- You wouldn’t believe what he just said to her, Hoon ! This is the man.”

Your boyfriend just hummed, but that slight feeling of jealousy had come back. And for the two days you spent reading this book, it didn’t go away, especially as you kept on talking about that guy that was apparently the perfect book boyfriend. And Sunghoon was starting to get tired of it, tired of hearing you talk about it non stop with Aeri on the phone, tired of you bringing it up every chance you got. And he loved you, and he loved that you were passionate about your books, but not that much, not when it came to another man, even if he was fictional, not when he was the one paying for all these books. He was spoiling you to make you happy, not to lose his status to someone who didn’t even exist.

“- And then he pulls her in and he tells her that he loves her ! That’s so romantic !”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes as you recalled the first time the characters kissed in your book, tapping away on his laptop, not ignoring, but not paying too much attention either.

“- Are you even listening to me ?

- Yes, but I’m getting sick of you fussing over another man.”

It was your time to roll your eyes as you took a sip of your coffee by his side, turning another page of the second book of this new series.

“- Another man that is fictional, baby. There’s nothing to worry about.

- Well, you’re talking about him a lot though.

- Please, Hoon, it’s only a book. You’re being ridiculous.”

You couldn’t believe that he was going to start an argument about that. Sometimes, he joked about you being more in love with Azriel than you were with him, sometimes he pouted about the fact that you spent more time reading fanfiction about Cardan than cuddling with him, but it was all playful and funny. But today, for some reason, Sunghoon seemed very serious about the matter.

“- Yeah, only a book but you can’t stop talking about it and drooling about someone else.”

You closed the book you were currently reading, placing it down on the table as you looked over at your boyfriend who seemed pissed for real. And you were starting to get a little bit angry too because he was picking up a fight about something so petty and small.

“- He’s not even real Sunghoon, how do you want me to drool over him ? Actually, don’t answer that, you’re starting to get on my nerves and your little jealousy is not helping.”

Suddenly, his gaze darkened and he pushed his laptop away, reaching for your hand and pulling you closer to him. He needed to show you who was better, even if it was pointless and foolish.

“- I’m not jealous of a man written on paper, I just wished you would see I’m doing all the same for you. In real life.”

While he talked, he had pulled you down on his lap, keeping your chin in between two fingers and making it impossible for you to look away even if you wanted to. Sunghoon still had his glasses on, the ones that framed his face perfectly and made him even more handsome than he already was, making you want to kiss him right here and right there.

“- I know it, Hoon, you’re so good to me I don’t even know how you’re real, and mine. Let me make it up to you, yeah ?”

You didn’t let him respond before you leaned down to kiss him deeply, making him feel every one of your emotions through that kiss. You never wanted Sunghoon to be like one of these boys in your books anyway - they were good on paper, but not in real life. And as you shared a heated kiss with your very real boyfriend, your book was definitely far away from your thoughts for now.

All of sudden, Sunghoon stood up from his chair and dropped you on your feets on the floor, before he spun you around and pushed you to lay down face first onto the cold wood of the table, your ass fully exposed to him because of the shorts you were wearing that had ridden up your thighs high enough to show the outline of your panties. He let his eyes roam around your silhouette before his hands joined too, slipping under the hem of your shirt and caressing the skin of your back lasciviously.

“- You want to make it up to me ? Then be a good girl and take it.”

You didn’t protest because you knew what these words meant, and you let Sunghoon pull your shorts down your legs and discard them somewhere on the floor. Soon enough, his hands were on your ass, kneading at the flesh as a grunt escaped from his mouth. And without any warnings, he landed the first slap on your skin that immediately turned redder, as you let out a surprised yelp.

“- You’ve been talking about that guy for days, didn’t even pay attention to me.”

It was partially true, you must admit, so you couldn’t deny it and tell him to stop being annoying this time. The second slap was harder, stronger, and it made your body move forward at the impact, a scream mixed with a moan escaping your lips as the third came right after.

“- I’m the one buying all these books, and this is how you’re thanking me ? By ignoring me ? Not cool doll.”

He punctuated his words by spanking you again, licking his lips as he saw your skin turn red. He loved to have you like this, completely under his control, he loved to remind you that you were his, that you belonged to him. The whines and moans spilling from your lips as he went on with his punishment only spurred him on, only turned him on more and more.

“- Hoon… Please…

- Please what ? Use your words doll.”

Seeing as you didn’t answer right away, Sunghoon landed another slap on your ass, a broken sob escaping your mouth this time, and a smirk spread on his lips because he knew that he had you right where he wanted you. And you were in fact a mess, squirming around in his hold but you didn’t know if it was because you wanted more or because you wanted no more.

“- Please, I want you, want your cock…”

Sunghoon hummed in approval as he leaned over your shoulder, placing a kiss on your lips, the way he was smiling exposing his pretty fangs.

“- It wasn’t so difficult, see ?”

He spanked you one last time before he spun you around again - even if he loved to see your pretty ass jiggle and bounce with each one of his thrusts, he loved to see your face even more, he loved to witness how you were gradually losing your mind, and that it was all because of him. Sunghoon got rid of his pants, tugging on your legs to get you to sit on the edge of the table, his tip bumping against your entrance as he wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you in place. Your eyes were already glistening with tears, but as soon as he pushed his whole length inside of you, they spilled down your cheeks, the stretch was not painful but you could still feel it, and you loved it.

“- Feels so good you’re crying doll ? Is that it ?”

You were lying helplessly on top of the table, dumbly nodding along to what he was saying as he had started to thrust into you at a quick space that sent you to another world. But Sunghoon wasn’t doing any better : everytime he managed to get some tears out of you, it made him feel a thrill that couldn’t compare to anything - the way you were looking up at him with your glossy eyes, the way you had no self control over your own reactions anymore, and how pretty you looked when you were crying, nothing came close to that.

“- You’re so pretty when you’re crying for me…”

Sunghoon groaned as you clenched around him, but his grin was never leaving his face - he knew the effect his praises had on you, and he knew how much you both liked it. His pace was restless, making the table underneath you squeak and tremble but you didn’t care, your mind occupied by the way he was hitting your sweet spot effortlessly, by how handsome he looked, with his glasses sliding to the tip of his nose, and his fangs peeking out as he bit down on his lip.

“- Hoon ! I-I’m close…

- Yeah ? You’re gonna cum doll ?”

You nodded as another moan escaped your lips, some more tears spilling out of your eyes as you closed them shut, the rush of pleasure becoming too intense to keep them open. You gasped as you felt one of Sunghoon’s hand wrapping around your throat, slightly restricting your breathing. You whined in response, your thighs starting to shake on either side of him.

“- Cum for me then, so you won’t forget again who’s making you feel good.”

And as you let your orgasm crash over you, Sunghoon didn’t stop thrusting into you, riding out his own high until both of you were breathless, panting, and dizzy with lust and love. You tried to regain some consciousness and slowly opened your eyes, only to find your boyfriend already looking at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He leaned over to kiss your lips much more tenderly than earlier, and then he kissed your cheeks that were still covered in tears - of pleasure or pain, you didn’t really know anymore.

“- You look prettier when you’re all mine.”

You giggled at his words, but they undeniably made your heart beat faster, and the way he licked away your tears made you realize that Sunghoon would always be better than whatever book you could read.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations.

kinktober taglist (dm or comment to be added) :

enha taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@bbgnyx @hann1bee @rockstrrrgf @puppy-minnie @binniesbabygirl @lichyuu @foxinnie8 @lala-----------lala @hyunstxns @urlocal-user @seomisaho @adirajackson

@d-dilemma @bath1lda @anxiousskylar @mikaelless @leeknowinggg

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober fic #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen kinktober #enhypen fic #enha #enha x reader #enha smut #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon fic #sunghoon kinktober #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut

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ferrstappen · 8 months ago

Text

SLUT! l MV1 imagine

a/n: hey! I’m alive, I hope some of you are alive as well and willing to read something 💘 this is short and just a random idea I had before diving into writing some longer pieces with more plot, but I really hope you like it and as you know, feedback is very very welcome!!! Also I’m sorry if it’s weird or any mistakes bc I wrote this on my phone 💘

Summary: this isn’t your first time being a WAG, but people don’t seem to like the idea of you ending your relationship with Joe Burrow and falling in love with Max.

Looking around, you could tell that this wasn't an ordinary place. The sound of engines revving, the vivid colors of various vehicles, and the hustle and bustle of multiple teams, engineers, sponsors, drivers, and fans walking around the paddock all added to the excitement. It was a truly remarkable sight to behold. The energy was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe taking it all in.

In your previous relationship, your boyfriend would make grand entrances at the stadium, sporting his fancy Cartier sunglasses and jamming to his favorite tunes. He wouldn't pay much attention to the photographers snapping away as he strolled past them, and you'd catch a glimpse of him from afar in a lavish suite. That was quite a contrast to your current situation, which you're still adjusting to.

You were greeted by a well-dressed individual who was sporting the logos of Red Bull, Oracle, and Honda all over their outfit. They handed you a VIP all-access paddock pass which had your name and headshot printed on it, along with details of whose guest you were. To top it off, they also put a Red Bull credential on your wrist. The assistant then guided you towards the power station, where you were hopping to finally catch Max after weeks of not seeing each other.

You never meant to be in this position. You were in a happy, stable, loving relationship, truly. But last year one night in Las Vegas, your boyfriend, Joe, was invited to the Las Vegas Grand Prix, and of course, you both attended, curious and excited about the event. Neither of you knew it would be the beginning of the end.

Your first meeting with Max was captured on camera.

Max and Joe, the reigning Formula 1 champion and the Cincinnati Bengals quarterback together was gold content for the Red Bull socials, and there you were in the back, knowing your place smiling at the interaction, but when you were least expecting it, the champion stretched his hand and introduced himself, catching you and your boyfriend off guard.

As soon as he spoke, I noticed his friendly yet polite tone. "Hi, I'm Max," he introduced himself with a warm smile. His simple gesture of introducing himself made him instantly likable and set him apart from the others in the crowd.

“Hi Max, I’m (y/n). Thanks for the invitation,” you shook the hand that wasn’t holding a can of Red Bull.

“Right. Max, this is my girlfriend. She’s the happiest here because she’s a Red Bull addict,” Joe added, earning a soft laugh from you and a smile from Max.

“Then you came to the right place, (y/n). The mini fridges are all yours, and I’m pretty sure the ones on the second floor have limited editions,”

You thought that was all you were going to see of him, barely catching him after his win to congratulate him, but oh were you wrong, seeing him with a warm gray pull-up hoodie and styled blond hair, sipping gin and tonic and waving his hand as people chanted his name to the tune of a song.

Tu Tu Du Du, Max Verstappen

Or something along those lines.

The moment he recognized you, a sudden rush of excitement and anticipation sent a buzz through your stomach that was impossible to ignore. You felt a mixture of nervousness and elation as he leaned in for a short cheek kiss, the scent of gin lingering on your nose as you briefly noticed the small mole on his upper lip. Despite the presence of your boyfriend standing behind you, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of emotions inside.

“I heard you ransacked the energy station,” A drunk Max Verstappen told you.

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and at the same time you felt Joe’s arms tight around your waist.

“There weren't any Red Bulls left on the building after you left, maybe I'll have to send a PR package your way,” Max slurred, taking a new sip from his gin and tonic glass.

You couldn’t answer because Joe was faster: “we’ll sure enjoy that, thank you. Wanna go mingle, babe?”

That was almost five months ago as you made your way in sunny Melbourne, doing your best to avoid prying eyes who were aware of the events that took place last November and how you left Joe Burrow the quarterback for Max Verstappen the racing driver.

But it’s not like you wanted to.

After the first box full of sugar free Red Bull arrived with a note, you left a message on his Instagram before posting a story, tagging him and the team.

The he started sending silly memes, followed by the description of the Red Bull ingredients written in Arabic while on Abu Dhabi.

In February, things had reached a point where it was impossible to ignore any longer. You knew it was time to end things with Joe, and when you did, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Suddenly, you were free to do as you pleased, to go where you wanted to go. And so, when Max invited you to go to Bahrain for testing, you jumped at the opportunity.

It was on this trip that you experienced your first date with Max. You both had such a great time together, laughing until your stomachs hurt. You tried your best to hold back your wandering eyes, but you couldn't help noticing the adorable mole on his lip. And then, when the night sky had blanketed the Middle East, he leaned in and kissed you, sending shivers down your spine. It was a magical moment that you would never forget.

But the next day, your first day on the track, a random person recognized you and rumors went crazy, name-calling, attacks, fans carrying signs “What happened with #9”, grown men calling you a bitch, a whore, a gold digger, jumping from one dick to another. It was so much that Max decided to send you to his home in Monaco, not even caring if you were there for the first Grand Prix of the season, he just needed you to be okay.

As you walked towards the energy station, the ground beneath your feet felt firm, yet your steps were hesitant and shy. You were not alone, though, as someone from the team was following your every move, as per Max's orders. The team wanted to ensure that you were safe and secure as you made your way towards the Red Bull hospitality. Once you arrived, a collective sigh of relief was released, and you waited patiently for Max to arrive. The anticipation in the air was palpable as everyone eagerly awaited his arrival.

You vividly remember that moment when he finally arrived at the paddock, dressed in his Red Bull shirt, shorts, and cap, looking so handsome and sporty. You couldn't help but rush towards him, feeling a surge of excitement and joy. As you hugged him tightly, he smiled and hummed softly, clearly enjoying your touch and warmth. You noticed that he was trying to register your scent, perhaps to make the moment even more intimate and memorable.

You knew he was about to lean in for a cheek kiss, but something inside you urged you to do something bolder and more passionate. So, without hesitating, you turned around, making sure his larger frame was facing the outside, away from prying eyes. Then, you carefully grabbed his face with both hands, feeling his strong jawline and stubble under your fingers. You looked deeply into his eyes, savoring the moment, before leaning in and kissing his full lips.

The kiss was electrifying and unexpected, taking him by surprise, but he quickly responded with equal passion and tenderness. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, as you lost yourself in the blissful moment. It was a moment of pure connection and love, one that you would always treasure in your heart.

Despite being called all sorts of names by people, you refused to let it get to you. You were determined to continue showing your deep admiration and affection for Max, no matter what others thought or said. You believed that your feelings were genuine and authentic, and you were not going to let anyone else's opinion sway you. Despite the challenges and obstacles you faced, your love for Max remained unwavering and waiting to grow bigger.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen au #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fics #f1 fluff #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x you

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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months ago

Note

Hii sweetie, how are you? Are requests open rn? I'm soooo sorry if they arent and i'm botherig you, but can i make a sugestion please? How would batboys (including bruce if possible) would "react" to missing you while on a mission? And maybe in the end the reenconter? Just an idea❤️

I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to write this and I hope that it’s everything you want and more.

Dick; sits and sulks as he stares at his phone.

I’m joking…or am I?

He’d be mentally counting away the hours before he came back home to you once more. He tries to act professional and keep a level head seeing as how leaders aren’t meant to have room for errors, he’s learnt that the hard way many times. But he can’t help but yearn to be in your arms and fall into the deepest sleep ever knowing that you were close by and above all safe.

He would use this as motivation to get through the long, long night of patrol in hopes of making time take pity on him and go just that little bit faster, just for his selfish convenience. He just so desperately wants to see you and Hayley cuddled up together on your shared bed, or watching a movie together if you were still awake this late at night. You held a piece of his heart without even knowing it.

So when he feels the patrol come to an end, he’s gleefully beating the piss out of the goons he’s come across with a smile across his face. It’s borderline terrifying image that will forever remain burnt into the deepest parts of his teammates memory for a good long while.

The minute Dick came home and you so happened to be waiting for him, he was already scooping you into his arms and holding you close to his chest as he buried his head into your neck.

‘I missed you.’ He murmurs.

‘I’m pretty sure that’s my line you’ve just stolen.’ You joked as you ran your hand through his dark hair, relived in seeing him home safe and unharmed.

‘Well it’s my line now because I really did miss you,’ Dick said, tightening his hold on you, ‘you we’re all I thought about tonight and how much I wanted to come home and be where I want to be most, in your arms.’ He adds tired and you couldn’t help but coo softly at him.

‘Aww Dickie bird.’ You began. ‘You sound about ready for some much needed sleep.’

Dick lets out a deep sigh as he practically slumps against you. ‘That sounds like a good idea. Is Hayley in bed?’

‘Yes.’ You answered, rubbing his back soothingly.

‘Her bed or ours?’ Dick asks.

‘Do you even need to ask?’ You reply with a chuckle and from that alone did Dick get his answer.

Jason; he’s a little impatient with having to wait to come back home to you, so much so that it tends to end with him brutalising his adversaries more then usual.

Whoops.

He doesn’t apologise at all.

He was so use to coming home to a empty apartment after patrol that long nights like these never use to bother Jason, as it often meant he had something else to do other then stare up at his ceiling, waiting for sleep to catch up to him. Now that he had you however, all Jason wants to do was come home as soon as possible just to catch a glimpse of your sleeping figure on his -now your- bed.

He’s grown addicted to being at your side no matter what that being apart from you for prolonged periods of time made Jason feel hollow, as though he was missing a vital part of himself somewhere and that vital part was you.

So when he gets home he’s already dropped his helmet off somewhere and kneeling before you as you held his face in your hands and groaning as he presses his face further into your hands.

‘I’ve missed you so much tonight chipmunk.’ He admits.

‘I’ve missed you too jay bird.’ You replied, pressing a kiss to his nose, squealing when he stole a quick peck from your lips as you smacked his bicep shortly after. ‘Someone’s feeling particularly loving tonight.’ You add.

Jason groans as he looks up at you with his pretty, pretty eyes that never fail to take your breath away. The mere image alone of this six foot something man kneeling before you was enough to make you feel like the most powerful being in existence. ‘Is it blasphemy for a man to show his partner how much he’s missed them now?’ He asks and you couldn’t help but laugh as you pressed another kiss to his nose, pulling away enough to see him smile dopily at your kiss.

‘No, but it would be great to be warmed ahead of time before you try to steal another kiss.’ You said and Jason smirks. ‘So you’re telling me there is going to be a next time?’ He says teasingly.

‘Don’t let it go to your head hotshot.’ You reply, grabbing one of his hands and pulling him towards the bedroom.

‘I think I already have sweetheart.’ Jason says with a smile, happy to be home.

Bruce: keeps tabs on you during patrol whilst also remaining vigilant and dedicated to the task at hand.

Bruce was a master at multitasking.

He would always make sure you were safe and decried whenever he got a couple minutes to breathe on his own. He even has a special alert made for you in the instance where you were in danger walking home.

He even finds himself looking at shops you’ve told him about going to, but never doing so due to scheduling conflicts and making a mental note to take you there as a treat to spoil you rotten.

Bruce had more experience in neglecting his own wants and needs for the betterment of Gotham and everyone living in it. So while he may miss you dearly, he knew that his dedication to bettering Gotham’s crime rate one villain, underground drug syndicate, crime lord at a time outweighed that greatly.

So the moment he comes home to you he smiles softly as he allows you to remove the cowl from his head, gently place it down elsewhere, before moving on to wiping the black makeup clean from his eyes.

Bruce knows he could easily done it himself but much rather prefers it if you were the one to do it instead, as it often allows him to have a moment alone with you. No interruptions nor distractions could make him break his gaze away from yours.

‘You’re doing Gotham a whole lot of good Bruce.’ You tell him as you finished wiping off the last of his eye makeup that he puts on under the cowl. ‘ Not many people would be willing to try to keep a dying city alive. Im so proud of you for doing the unthinkable.’ You add as you press a kiss to his cheek.

‘Someone’s got to shoulder the responsibility of this town and I’m more than willing to shoulder that responsibility everyone else who can’t.’ Bruce replies as he takes your hands in his own, kissing the backs of them as his thumbs caressed each of your knuckles. ‘But coming home to you reminds me I’m not alone in this endeavour and I don’t know how to thank you enough for standing by me.’

You smile. ‘You don’t need to thank me at all, just take care of yourself alright? We don’t want the Dark Knight running on fumes now when he’s just getting started.’

Damian: naturally goes by his father’s example and remains focused on the task at hand.

He was trained for long nights like these but you’ve become somewhat of a problem during them.

Damian had often found himself sat on a rooftop somewhere, looking down at two people enjoying the other’s company, and immeditly starts to imagine that it was him and you instead.

He hates how easily his mind drifted towards you during patrol with his father or his other siblings but he just can’t help it but crave for your presence. It makes him feel weak and vulnerable but ironically he doesn’t hate it as much as he probably should’ve. He’s even found himself wanting to count stars with you at one point during patrol until he got him act together to take down a few goons.

He doesn’t admit this to anyone as he’s already felt embarrassed enough that he didn’t needed to be embarrassed even further by the miscreants he’s made to called his family. For he knew they’d never let him live it down for being so caught up on you, they’d called him everything their small minds can come up with for the sake of teasing their younger brother.

So when he comes back to you, he doesn’t say anything other than hugging you uncharacteristically tight against his chest.

‘Someone’s missed me.’ You joked but when Damian didn’t say anything but tighten his grip on you and huff did you change your tune. ‘Oh you did. If it’s any consolation I missed you too.’ You add as you both stayed there in each others arms.

‘Just…hold me will you…please.’ He said softly as he sunk further into your embraced and he closed his eyes, secretly happy to be back home with you.

‘I’m fine with that.’ You replied as you concede to his wishes, just happy to see him home in one piece.

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neowinestainedress · 1 year ago

Text

SECRET — lee jeno

𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: secret

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lee jeno x fem!reader

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: smut, fluff (at the end), established relationship, kink discovery, relationship development

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jeno has a secret he can’t tell anybody, not even you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: sub!jeno, dom!reader (it’s their first time reversing roles so they’re both exploring how it feels like), implied masturb*tion, n!pple play, kinda hand-free org*sm/coming untouched, an*l fingering, riding, overstimulation, praise kink, minor degradation, size kink (but reversed??? reader is not bigger than jeno but somehow jeno feels small and likes to feel like that), ch*king, names used for jeno (baby boy, good boy, pup/puppy, pretty boy), names used for reader (ma’am, miss, mommy), big d!ck jeno, there’s nothing wrong with being a sub but jeno has issues because he has to always be strong so it doesn’t feel right for him, count the times I say ‘please’ in this (not my fault jeno is the bestest boy ever), aftercare (and kink discussion)

𝐖𝐂: 10.202k

𝐀/𝐍: a gift for my love @yellowgirllsblog, I converted her to subjenoism so I’m on a mission to let more of you see the light of the day and appreciate sub!jeno more. ps: you will never catch me call twitter ‘x.’ enjoy and if you do, please reblog and leave feedback! love u!

Jeno has a secret.

Once you’ll find out what it is, it won’t seem a big deal, but to him, it is.

It’s so big, so stressful, and so shameful, he can’t even talk to you — his sweet, loving girlfriend — about it.

It’s stupid, really. Deep down Jeno is well aware of how dumb it all sounds, but every time he faces it, it looks like a big mountain he can’t climb — and that will probably crumble on top of him, smashing him on the ground.

Stupid or not, big or small, it haunts him every day. Yes, every day. At first, Jeno thought it was just a temporary thing, something that piqued at his curiosity for fun, but soon enough, he fell down the rabbit hole. Looking back at it now, he probably was buried deep in the rabbit hole since forever but he —and the perception others had of him— did a good job at polishing the place real nice and don’t make him realize where he was.

Jeno accepted he is far gone a while ago, but he still can’t wrap his head around it. How is that possible? How could he, out of all the people, like something like this, be like this.

And that’s why he keeps it to himself, praying that if he doesn’t act on it, if he pushes it out of his mind, it will just leave. He’s strong, and fit, and he pounds into you every night, giving it to you like you want it. He can’t be anything else other than this, nothing but a confident, strong man that can’t be vulnerable.

But it turns out that pushing it out of his mind is not as easy as it seems. Jeno might be weaker than he realizes when he keeps going back at it, sipping on it at small doses, almost as if whatever he is holding in it’s a drug he doesn’t want to get addicted to — not knowing he already is. But for now — and forever, he thinks — this is just a fantasy, he can’t get addicted to something that is not real, to a version of him, no matter how authentic it feels, that can’t come out. But he slips further every day, hiding in your shared bedroom with his laptop or phone when you’re at work and he can have a bit of time to himself, when he stares at the box with your toys and lets time pass by because he doesn’t dare to do the next step, and lastly when he fucks his fist with your used panties and calls your name… or well, how he wishes he could call you.

And then clarity hits him again, making him groan as he rushes to the bathroom on wobbly legs, throwing your stained panties inside and starting the washing machine while he questions himself; why? He feels pathetic; masturbating over you as if he needs to fantasize about you, as if he doesn’t have you every night, and every day, and yet, it’s still not enough, it’s not how he wants you. But he feels guilty, he feels like he won’t be enough if he confessed to you, if he let you know his secret. And most of all, he’s terrified he’ll lose you. This version of him is not the one you picked, is not the one you love. And he’d damn himself forever if he lost you for something so silly.

So, he sighs, takes a deep breath, and then exhales deeply, rubbing his teary eyes before pushing his tired body up from the wall to walk back to your bedroom and fix himself.

Jeno has a secret, and he will take it to his grave.

Your boyfriend has been acting strange for a while now. At first, you figured he was stressed because of work, but now, you don’t think that’s the only reason.

Your brain goes crazy, imagining the worst-case scenario, the top one: he wants to break up with you. So, you start acting strange, too. Panicking, over-analyzing everything, and mostly, bracing yourself for the worst. Every time he starts talking to you with a serious tone, you fear that those words will come out of his lips, especially when before starting the conversation he stares at you for minutes and thinks so loudly you can almost hear his thoughts.

But the worst never comes, this goes on for weeks, and even if your boyfriend does act strange, nothing of his weirdness leads to a breakup, literally nothing can make it plausible, and even your brain gives up keeping you up at night with the fear of you losing him.

Jeno has never been so touchy. His hands are always on your body, any excuse is valid to let his fingers wander on your skin; if he needs to help you pick up something, if he needs to reach for the remote, if he has to leave for work, anything as long as he gets to feel your warm body.

And that doesn’t shock you much, Jeno has always made it clear how much he finds you attractive and how obsessed and in love he is with you and your body, but well, not like this. His fingers seem almost fearful, and so are his lips when he kisses you, and even something about his eyes doesn’t seem quite right. And then there are those unsaid words that you can see pending from his lips, and yet, they never come out. Every phrase Jeno starts is followed by a stutter and a quick shake of the head, other times his cheeks turn bright red as he zones out and you have to shake him out of whatever he is thinking, and then he goes back to act though and shrug it all off as if nothing happened.

You don’t get it, and every time you try to ask if something’s wrong, he acts surprised and tells you everything’s alright. You don’t buy it, but you feel that if something’s annoying him, he will come talk to you when he’s ready, so you leave him alone.

Jeno has a secret, and you have to find out in a way you don’t like.

You don’t like to roam around and stick your nose in things that aren’t yours, honestly, you hate doing so because you would hate if somebody did that with your things.

But you’re bored, laying on your bed, waiting for Jeno to come out of the shower, and your phone is somewhere in the living room, and you’re bored.

Picking up his phone to play some games is not an invasion of privacy, it’s the only thing you do with his phone, and Jeno is fine with it — he even lets you download those ugly, ads-filled, games that pop up in ads of other annoying games, he doesn’t get them, he hates the graphic of most of them, and he doesn’t understand how you can survive so many ads, but it’s fine, anything that makes you happy because you saved the King from drowning, cleaned a hotel room or built a pretty land.

You would’ve minded your business if it wasn’t for one of those stupid games and ads, causing the app to crash and make you huff.

You’re pissed as you click the left bottom on the bottom of his screen to see all the apps and go back to your game, hoping it won’t die again, you’re so caught up that you almost miss the other window of Twitter and some other apps he used before.

But well, what you see is too shocking to make you go back to the business of your hotel.

You freeze, and a lump forms in your throat as you blink speechless with your mouth wide open. You feel the world could collapse under your feet but then you shake your head.

Dumb asshole, it’s fine. He might be bisexual, he’s not using you as a beard, right?

But you still stare at the video in shock, the only focus is on the naked man with a choker, moaning while the vibrator edges him, and the playful touches on his nipples make his hips rut.

And when Jeno comes out of the shower you’re still dumbfounded. Your eyes look up, and his smile drops as soon as he sees your face, it looks as if you saw a ghost, and he fears something has happened to you, but he barely manages to let out ‘are you ok?’ before you stop him.

“Are you gay?” You ask, nothing of the more rational questions you came up with before passing your lips.

He giggles nervously, eyes skimming you. “What?

You feel a lump in your throat and then reply. “What is this?” you lift the phone, video playing on mute, you can’t bear to hear the moans again. “Why are you watching porn and why are you watching porn focused on men? If you want to try something out you can tell me, but please, tell me I’m not your bearding girlfriend and this wasn’t all a lie.”

“A lie?” Jeno screams, feeling his heart pump hard in his chest. “It’s not and I’m not gay, I might be bi, but I never wanted to question much about it but... Wait, would it make you love me less?”

“No, God, no, but I don’t understand this,” you squeak, voice breaking a bit for the confusion you feel and also because his face dropped even more.

“It’s nothing,” Jeno says, abruptly taking the phone from your hand and closing the tab. His hands are shaking, he can’t believe he’s so fucking stupid, how could he not think about it? He always makes sure to close everything so that you can’t find out.

“Nothing?” You ask, eyes wide and a bit of sarcasm in your tone. “Why are you watching that kind of video...”

“I — I... It’s just something dumb the boys sent me,” he justifies, scratching his neck, but his eyes are everywhere except on yours.

You would believe him if only he wasn’t so evasive with his answers and body language, he’s a nerve wreck, he has to be hiding something. “Is it? Why would they do it?”

“I don’t know, you know they’re dumb,” he says and then pauses, biting his lips nervously before he gathers the courage to speak. “Did you watch it?”

You furrow, mumbling for a few seconds before replying as if it was obvious. “Yes.”

“All?”

“Yes, it’s not that long,” you reply without getting where he wants to go with these questions.

Jeno nods and bites his lips, strategically avoiding your gaze.

“Jeno...” You call and he hesitantly raises his face. “Are you sure you’re not lying to me? If you like men and only them it’s fine, I would be heartbroken, but I want you to be happy, and I —”

“Stop it! It’s not that,” he snaps, face burning red when your eyes meet and you’re looking at him with curiosity. He feels doomed, you don’t even get it so how can you be into it?

“Oh.” You gasp. “Oh.” It clicks. Your mind replays the video, catching the details you missed, and you get it. He wants those things to be done to him. He doesn’t want a man; he wants you to do that to him.

Jeno stills, fearing the worst from you. “I’m not into it, that video just came up and I was curious,” he tries to save himself but it’s too late.

“No,” you stop him, “you are into it. Don’t lie to me,” your tone drops a bit, and you study his reaction, he trembles, and his face reddens even more. You’ve never seen him so embarrassed and vulnerable in all those years you’ve dated. Jeno, Lee Jeno, blushing bright red and stammering on his words right in front of your eyes. You’re dreaming, that must be it, maybe you have a fantasy you’re not aware of yet and this is your brain poking the thought into you.

But you shake your head, rub your eyes, and he’s still there.

“Jeno?” You call his name again when he gives you his back, quickly trying to find his clothes and make this less embarrassing, considering the only thing covering him is the white towel he put on before. “Look at me,” your voice comes out stern when he doesn’t listen to you and with a big step forward you have him trapped against the wall. Your fingers reach his chin, lifting his face resolutely.

But Jeno still doesn’t reply; you see his Adam’s apple move in his neck and you feel his breath get discontinued, but nothing comes from his mouth.

You have two choices; play the game he wants you to play or have a serious conversation about this. You’d rather go for the last one, you’re not so sure you’d be a master at doing what he wants you to do, but it seems like there’s no room for a decent talk right now.

You cup his chin, squeezing it enough that his lips pout, something he always does to you. His eyes widen, and his hand immediately wraps around your wrist, yet he doesn’t try to push you away.

“Tell me, Nono,” you coo, voice low and teasing, “do you want to be teased like that?”

He shakes his head, quick movements causing some still damp strands of hair to fall on his eyes, “No, no, I don’t.”

You scoff, shaking your head before leaning closer. “Why are you lying to me?”

He mumbles, struggling to talk for the embarrassment and the hold you have on his face. “I’m not,” he cries out.

“Oh, really?” You ask, letting his face go, making him lose his balance now that he can’t hold onto you. “Then you have nothing to hide, right?” He nods, biting his thumb and looking at you like a dog with his tail between his legs. “So, I guess you won’t mind if I took your phone right now, right?”

His eyes widen and his thumb falls from his lips. “Bu-but wh-why?”

You burst out laughing, holding your stomach in an exaggerated mocking move. “Bu-but wh-why?” you taunt him, imitating his high-pitched trembling voice. “Phone, now.”

Jeno’s not sure how to feel. This is what he wanted, right? And you don’t seem… mad. So why does he feel so embarrassed as he grabs the phone and hands it to you?

You smile and then open Twitter. You notice he has two accounts and when you scroll through the likes, the retweets, and more, you’re speechless. Well, now that you have him in front of you, so pliant, shaking, and red in the face, it’s not surprising anymore, but the Jeno you’re used to is not like this.

Men tied up and edged until they whimper and beg to come, rough face sitting, pegging videos, and captions about ‘good boys’ being used as sex toys by their ‘dominant mommy’, are all you see. You sigh and throw the phone on the bed carelessly.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno cries out, falling on his knees right in front of you. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I don’t need that, I swear I don’t, I can still be your usual boyfriend, I’ll fuck you so good, I promise I —”

You shut him up with a kiss, it’s rough and quick, enough to leave him surprised and, momentary, speechless. “Will you stop mumbling no-sense?”

“But I —”

“No, shh,” you say, thumb on his lips to keep him quiet. “Did I say anything? Did I look disappointed?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and he shakes his head. Honestly, he has no idea, he was too worried panicking to actually pay attention to your reaction. “Did I ask you to apologize? Do I look disgusted to you?”

“N-no,” he mumbles, but his eyes are still leaking tears.

“No, exactly,” you reassure. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, wrapping around the long hair at the nape before tugging and yanking his head back. “Now can we be serious and face this or do you want to keep crying at my feet?”

That shouldn’t make his dick twitch in the — now incredibly tight —towel but it does, still, he hopes you didn’t catch it, and nods swiftly.

“Good,” you smile slyly. You saw it, but that’s something you’re going to deal with later. “Stop lying and be honest with me. Do you want me to do this to you?” Your other hand moves down on his neck, creeping on his toned chest until it reaches his hard nipples, and when you brush one, he whimpers. Jeno tries to hide it, closing his eyes and pressing his lips together, but his body is reacting on its own, and it has never been more of an open book.

You never paid his body much attention, always letting him do anything to you, so this is… new, and interesting.

Your fingers play with the other one, rubbing against the sensitive tip and watching him struggle to keep it all in. “Sensitive much, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, head falling down but you tug it back again, making him groan lowly.

“Head up,” you order, leaning down to come face to face, breath fanning against his, “and answer me. Do you like it when I play with your nipples?”

“Yeah — yeah, I like it,” he breathes out, leaning in to kiss your lips but you pull away.

“Ah, ah,” you click your tongue, shaking your head, “not yet, baby boy. You’ve been naughty, keeping important things from me. So now you’re going to earn it, alright?”

Jeno nods faster than he would want to, hips shaking on his heels in excitement like a dog wagging his tail.

You think it’s cute, he’s cute. And you still don’t quite know how to do this, how to be on the other side, but something inside of you makes you feel confident enough to think it’s worth giving a try. You like to be on the receiving end, so you have to give him what you usually like to receive. Also, you’ve encountered femdom content before, even liked it, never explored it much, but this might be fun.

“Words.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You raise a brow at the title, but you like the way it rolls from his lips, and it makes your body react, pussy clenching around nothing and stomach twisting in anticipation.

“Good boy,” you reward him. You love being called a good girl, so you think he’s going to like that too, and he does. His smile grows bigger, cheeks tinting red again, and most importantly, his dick reacts, twitching against the towel.

You think it’s time to set it free, so your hand grabs the hem and pulls the white clothes off him. Jeno whimpers, hands quickly going to cover his hard, throbbing dick — well, trying to, it’s too big to hide anything.

You laugh at his lame attempt, slapping his hands away. “Getting shy now? I’ve seen it and felt it countless times, don’t you agree? Or, I don’t know, have you forgotten? Maybe your brain stops working when you’re… like this,” you finish with a teasing look from his head to his bent knees, rubbing against the hard floor and becoming red.

Jeno shivers, shaking his head, but for some reason, he feels even more embarrassed. He’s not used to being in this position, and all the times he imagined to be here, he didn’t think you would be like this. You’re not much shorter than him, but you are, and now you’re towering over him, your gaze is piercing through his soul, and your voice is sultry like it has never been. He wanted this so badly but even if he fantasized for months, now, he doubts he can take you.

You sigh, rolling your head. “How many times do I have to say it? Words.”

Jeno frowns momentarily, he knows you’re having a ball because usually, he wants you to talk back to him even if he’s fucking the fourth orgasm out of you. But his ‘anger’ doesn’t last. He nods, and then apologizes. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, ma’am. You can see it.”

“Of course, I can,” you say, kneeling to his eye level, “it’s mine.” Two of your fingers brush on his hard cock, tracing the thick vein that run on the side, the one that rub your sensitive walls so good when he’s pounding into you.

He nods quickly, swallowing hard to don’t moan shamelessly, and then stutters on his words. “You-yours. You can do — do whatever you want.”

You smile widely and tilt your head because it’s not a dominant smile. You might like this a lot. You might like this more than you anticipated. There’s something thrilling about having him like this, in your hands, to play with, to tease, to edge, to push to the limit. He’s yours, like always, and yet, in a way he has never been.

“Tell me what you want me to do?” You order, those videos are not enough to give you the green light. You need to hear it from him, a bit because you’re lost on your path, but also because you need to hear him describe those things out loud and beg you to do that to him.

Jeno thinks his face might burn up in a second. Sure, if he ever dared to bring this up to you in a conversation, he would’ve had to explain it to you, but he would’ve been dressed, not hard, and his brain would’ve been functioning. Now he’s none of these things. Yet, he tries.

“I — I want you,” he starts, wetting his lips. but he fails to find the words. You want explicit things, he knows it, he can see it in your eyes burning up with desire, but he wants to be honest first, at least now that he has a bit of rationality left. “I want to be your good boy. I want to — to just give up control for once and let you do everything. I want you to control me, to move me around, to make me feel light, to make me feel like I’m… nothing but not really nothing, I want to…” he gulps, forcing himself to keep eye contact because he wants to be good, but it’s not easy. Nothing happened yet, and he’s already a victim of the electricity that’s running in the air. “I want to don’t think. I want you to fuck my brain out until I forget who I am, I want you to tell me what to do, to order it to me. But I also want to feel safe… taken care of.”

It takes you a while to metabolize everything he told you, especially the last part, and you put a reminder in your brain to discuss that later. But now you kiss him, finally giving him what he craves. You wanted to make him wait a bit longer, but you feel like he needs it. It seems that all of this has been bothering him more than you think, and he needs comfort.

“And I’m going to give it to you, if you trust me,” you say when you pull away, softly caressing his cheek with your other hand.

“I do, I trust you,” he replies, hips rubbing against your hand. You give him a quick, stern look and he stops, smile dropping.

“Get on the bed and you won’t have to hump my hand like a puppy in heat,” you order and he’s quickly — stumbling and almost falling — on his feet, walking to the bed.

Once he’s laying on the bed, you follow him, crawling on top of him, your legs trapping him down. You leave kisses on his neck, and as a response his head rolls back, leaving you more room to paint his skin with bites and kisses. And while he’s distracted with that, your hands reach his nipples. His hips buck up and he whimpers.

He’s so sensitive, you can’t believe you didn’t discover this before.

Your fingers play with his sensitive buds, at first, you just rub your fingers on them, but then you get more adventurous studying his reaction. Jeno likes it when you pinch them between two fingers, it makes him hiss and moan, while his hips grind against you. He also likes it when you roll them, low curses escaping his tortured pink lips.

After a while, you decide to pay attention to his whole chest. You won’t lie, you always loved his tits, but you appreciated them from afar, when they were wrapped under the skintight white shirt he loves to wear, or when they played hide and seek under his loose tank tops. When he fucks you, your hands always wander somewhere else, busy trying to hold onto his arms and back for dear life. But now, your hands caress his skin, cupping them as you try to hide a giggle and stay in your role — you definitely need to work on your dominance — and tease his nipples every now and then.

“Fuck,” Jeno bites his tongue, dick rutting against your body, droplets of white shamelessly dripping from his head, staining his length and abs.

“You’re so sensitive it’s almost pathetic,” you try out, testing the waters. You fear you might trigger him, but instead, he moans louder at your words, throwing his head back more, and his dick throbs. “I’m barely touching you and you’re already a mess. You dreamed this so long, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he whimpers, his hips still grinding against you, desperately chasing for release, but you pull away. “No, please,” his voice breaks and tears swell at the corner of his eyes. Jeno is so fucking pretty like this, you have to fight back the urge to reach for the phone and snap a picture.

“Just relax, and focus on the parts I’m touching,” you say, kissing him to shut his whines down. “Let me take care of you.”

And he would, he does, he wants you to take care of him. If only this wasn’t so embarrassing, whimpering and squirming just from having his nipples played with. He wants to hold it in, he can push back an orgasm, but all his good intentions fly out of the window when your mouth wraps around the left sensitive one and your fingers pinch and twist the other one.

It’s not his fault he’s so sensitive.

“Oh God,” he cries out through gritted teeth, knuckles going white for how hard his hands are clenching around the sheets. Jeno feels dizzy, your mouth sucks harshly on his sensitive spot, quickly moving from one side to the other, never leaving him with no stimulation, your fingers are just as swift at taking the place your lips left. “Please, please, fuck,” he begs, hips stuttering messily, and legs parting as his body jerks with pleasure.

“Be a good boy and come for me,” you mumble against his skin, eyes looking up at his. And that’s the last drop for him; the realization that you saw him — and made him — this weak, even the slight humiliation he feels with it.

Jeno comes undone. Long, whiny moans and whimpers slurring out of his plump lips as his body stills before breaking into violent trembles, it’s powerful and overwhelming, and it makes him cry. Mumbles of your name follow when you don’t stop, fingers and tongue moving quickly on his nipples.

“Please, please, stop,” he cries, trying to push you away, “can’t take it anymore.”

You pull away, snickering as you watch the cum drip down his body. His chest is heaving, and his body is slumped against the headboard.

“Was it good?”

Jeno nods, his movements are slow, and his eyelids are almost close, but he still makes out your face, and smiles shyly. “More,” he begs and then adds, “please. If you want to.”

You smile, he’s so polite. “Are you sure you can take more?”

“Yes, yes, I just — I needed to calm down,” he explains, running a hand through his hair that covered his eyes messily.

“Lay on the bed,” you order before standing up.

He follows your order, feeling his body ache as he gets in position, but it all fades in the background when his gaze falls on your body, watching you move to throw your clothes on the floor.

“So,” you’re on top of him, you got rid of your skirt and top, the only clothes on your body are your — drenched — panties and the bra, “what do you want me to do with you?”

Jeno thought the embarrassing part had passed, but, lord, if he was wrong. Because he’s not prepared in the slightest to ask you what he’s about to ask. You will break up with him, this will be the last straw.

“Pup?” Your voice brings him out of his delirium, and he coughs. “You with me?”

He nods, struggling to find the words. “Please,” he whines, “don’t — don’t leave me.”

“Leave you?” You ask, a small frown forms on your forehead while your head lightly bends to the side to look at him. You almost look so innocent and harmless like this, but you’re not. You have all the power and control, and Jeno loves this and hates this at the same time. Maybe all of this is more mental than what he thought in the first place, or maybe he needs to relax, stop worrying so much, and just beg you. Beg you to fuck him, beg you to turn him into a brainless mess in the same way he had done in these past few months: pleading with his face smashed against a pillow to muffle his pathetic moans and his fist wrapped around his cock or his fingers inside of him, fooling himself that was you doing that to him.

“Please, fuck me,” he breaks, eyes panicking and looking around the room before you grab his face with a strong old on his chin.

“Say it again,” you order. Your face is relaxed now and the pout on your lips is rapidly swiped away by a sly smirk.

“Please, please, fuck me, ma’am?” He asks, eyes softening as he looks into yours. He’s such a good boy, so obedient, so, so good. So, you’re about to give him what he wants, and what you want, grabbing the base of his hardening dick and teasing it against your pussy, moving the crotch of the panties to the side, but he surprises you.

“No,” Jeno cries, voice breaking again, “not like this. Not now.”

You stop, stilling and looking at him, eyes blinking as you try to understand what he means. “Not like this? And how do you want me to fuck you?”

“I — I,” he stutters, flashes of warmth heating his body up again, not that it ever really stopped, to be honest, it just keeps getting worse.

“You — you?” You urge, mocking him, mimicking his voice with a condescending tone.

He frowns offended — and his dick throbs, but he won’t pay attention to that — but then goes on. “I want your — your fingers.”

“Oh,” you say, a smug grin on your face. “A handjob?” You know what he wants, you know where he wants it, but what you want, is to mess up with him.

“No, no,” he whines, shaking his head, reaching for your hand with his before you slap it away, making him groan in annoyance. “Please.”

“Please and no, are those the words that a good pup says?”

“No, miss, I’m sorry.”

“Good, then use your big boy words and tell me what you want. Details, or I won’t give it to you.”

Jeno swallows, inhaling deeply before confessing. “I want your fingers in my ass, please. I want you to fuck me with your fingers, miss.”

“Oh, now that’s clear,” you say, smiling tenderly and patting his head. He melts under your touch, and you keep a reminder to yourself to head pat him more often. “Good boy, telling me exactly what he needs.”

You get up to grab the lube from the drawer but when you open it, it’s not there. You scowl, scratching your head as you try to remember if you finished it and didn’t buy it again, but you don’t use it that often, so it can’t be.

“Where the hell —” you stop when, turning around, you see the blue bottle peeking from under the bed, you kneel to grab it and see that it’s badly closed. “You fucked yourself before?” You enquire, tilting your head, watching his face flush bright red even more, he tries to avoid your gaze, but you trot to him and force his face on you. “You were so desperate you couldn’t help but fuck yourself with your fingers?”

“I’m — I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to,” he justifies, throat dry and heart beating fast. He doesn’t want to disappoint you, he would’ve waited, he wouldn’t have done that, but he needed that, he was terrible at putting this fantasy behind and he needed a release. But he’s still you’re good boy, right? You’re not mad at him for this?

You scoff, clicking your tongue, crawling on the bed. “You didn’t mean to, sure… fucking yourself behind my back, pff,” you scoff. “Tell me, were you thinking of me? My fingers deep inside of you? My hand wrapped around the base of your cock?” Jeno nods eagerly as you pour lube on your fingertips. “Were you calling my name? Whimpering like the desperate puppy that you are? Calling me ma’am and miss, maybe even mommy when you fuck yourself good enough,” all throughout the talk your fingers slip deep inside of him, making him gasp and hold onto the sheets under him.

“Fuck,” he curses, not expecting you to push two fingers inside with no warning. But the surprise turns into bliss in the beat of an eye. Your fingers are slender, and yes, they’re not as long and thick as his are, but they are yours. And you’re so good at moving them inside of him, curling them up, moving them with a firm rhythm, reaching the bottom, and then pulling out, that he has nothing to complain about. “Feels so good,” he somehow manages to let you know. You think it’s cute, his voice doesn’t sound like the usual, it’s whiny, trembling, and full of desperation. His eyes are watery, and you think the red on his cheeks won’t disappear soon.

Jeno is lost in the pleasure, thinking he has never felt better, he’s almost relaxed, lulling in the sensation that sends sparks down his spine. But you want to give him more and your other hand folds his balls, making him hiss and shaking him out of that haze.

“It’s alright, baby boy,” you reassure him, but he’s not sure. Especially when you spit on his dick, adding to the mess of his cum, and run your hand on his length. He wishes you would keep doing this, but instead, you torture him; while your fingers work him open, your hand focuses on his frenulum, massaging his most sensitive spot until he’s a crying and trembling mess again.

“No, no,” he whines when your lips start kissing his leaking tip. “Sensitive — I’m…” his voice breaks and dies in his throat when your lips wrap around it. He has you everywhere and he’s not used to this. He’s not used to feeling so much and giving so little — in his mind, to give you nothing, but to you, he’s giving you a lot. This vulnerable side of him is much more than anything else. “I — I can touch you, I can —”

You shut him up with a slap on his thigh. “You can lay there and take it,” you say firmly but without stopping your movements.

He nods quickly, lips pressed in a thin line, but the pleasure is so big that his moans and whimpers just rumble in his chest.

“Moan, Jeno,” you call him out. “I want to hear you moan for me.”

“But —”

“But?” You scold, glaring at him and stilling your fingers inside him. “Are you going to talk back to me and tell me what to do?” He shakes his head quickly, mumbling apologizes. “I think so, do you want to be my good boy?”

“Yes, yes, please,” he cries, hips bucking up, at first you think he’s doing that to feel your fingers but he’s just that desperate. He truly acts like a puppy too excited to be your good boy to even think straight, his body moving on its own. If he had a tail, he would wiggle it like crazy.

“You want to be my good pup?” You ask again, your fingers pull out and then push in, dragging a low gasp from his lips.

“Yes, I want to. Want to be your good puppy, please.”

“Then do what I tell you to do,” you remind him, your hands go back to his cock, throbbing on his abs and leaking pre-cum. It’s almost… funny how big he is —body and dick— and how helpless and powerless he looks, begging for attention as if he couldn’t just take it from you, ordering you, fucking you. But he lays there, pathetically drooling on the pillow, while his dick drips on his stomach and his ass clenches around your two fingers.

His sounds are like music to your ears, and the vision in front of your eyes makes your pussy drool more, you can’t believe you’re so turned on when fifteen minutes ago you were almost throwing a tantrum for this. But Jeno looks like the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you wonder if he feels this way when it’s the other way around. All you know is that you’re mesmerized, eyes stuck where your bodies connect, his hole fluttering around you, the lube squelching in and out, and his toned, strong legs spread open just for you. Then they move up, the way his dick is throbbing in your hand and spills pre-cum, his chest rising fast, his hands clenched around the sheets. And his face, his eyes are closed but you know they’re rolled back behind his eyelids, his lips are swollen and dark pink, parted open to fill the room with the most desperate whines, his hair is a mess again, scattered around the pillow and his forehead.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whines, lifting his hips from the mattress when you hit him deeper and your hand starts moving faster on him. “Feels good, feels so good, you’re so good, you’re — you’re perfect, I love you, I love you,” he cries out, head rolled back as he lets the pleasure rush through his body.

You smirk at his words, the desperation and devotion behind his voice making shivers run down your spine. “Are you going to come?” You ask, already knowing the answer, watching him nod quickly. “Yeah? Will you be a good boy and come from my fingers only?” Your hand leaves his dick, eliciting a disappointed noise from him, but his breath gets cut off when you add another finger inside of him.

“Please,” he cries, the stretch of the three fingers making his hips move even more from the mattress, only to stop when your hand, flat on his stomach, keeps him pinned down.

“Stop squirming, or I won’t make you come and keep edging you until you pass out.”

It should be a threat, but it doesn’t even sound so bad to him, but not now, maybe one day, now he wants you, and wants to come as soon as possible. So, his hips still, the nervous twitching passing down to his leg but it’s fine, it doesn’t get in the way.

“Good boy,” you praise, patting his head, and making him smile. “Be even a better boy and come for me.”

You don’t have to tell him twice before his orgasm erupts, his body shakes before stilling completely, spurts of white spilling on his stomach, even reaching the sheets as his cock throbs in release and his hole flutters around your three fingers that are still pumping in and out at a fast speed. Slurs of curses roll from his tongue, and so does your name, while his chest rises fast before his body slumps against the mattress.

“Please, please, stop,” he cries out, feeling overstimulated.

You listen, pulling your fingers out and cleaning them on his thigh before leaning forward to kiss him.

“Want you, mommy, please,” he pleads, tears rolling down his temple while his hands look for the warmth of your body. “Please, fuck me, need to feel you.”

“Calm down,” you say, giggling at his cuteness and eagerness and get rid of your panties, throwing them behind with no care, and then follows the bra.

Jeno feels less embarrassed now that you’re exposed too, and gets lost in your body for a few seconds before he bites back a moan when your warm and wet skin makes contact with him. “I — I can fuck you, I can make you feel good, too,” he promises. “Be your good boy and fu–fuck you well.”

You smile tenderly, teasing him as you grind your hips rubbing your pussy on his dick that’s resting on his stomach. “Oh, I know you can.”

“Please, please,” Jeno cries out more. His dick is incredibly sensitive, it’s painfully aching, begging to be wrapped by something after all this teasing. You barely paid it any attention this whole time. “Let me be your good boy, use me,” his voice breaks and he almost chokes on his words as his pleading eyes stare at you for mercy. “Use my — use my cock as you please. Use me like your toy,” he says, “your good toy.”

It almost breaks your heart; he needs validation so badly and you feel genuinely bad for never noticing this before. You just thought he was always so strong and confident; you didn’t think he needed reassurance so much.

“Here, pup,” you say, sinking into him.

Jeno’s head rolls back, his hands clasping around your waist, but his hold, even if it’s strong, is different from all the other times before.

“Fuck, mommy, feel so good.” The way your warm walls wrap around him send him straight to heaven, you’re wet and fit perfectly around him.

“Yeah, you too, baby. You feel so good,” you curse through gritted teeth. He might be a mess underneath you, whimpering, crying, and begging, but that doesn’t make his cock shrink. Jeno’s big, and you should be used to it by now, but somehow it still feels like it splits you open every time.

“Please, fuck me!” Jeno laments loudly, bouncing his hips against yours, but a stern look from you makes him stop and apologize, “So-sorry, fuck me, please?” This time his voice is soft and polite, a desperate edge but with no eagerness behind — yes, there is, but he tries hard not to show it.

“Oh, fuck,” he screams when you lift your body up and slam back into him. You’re a lazy rider usually, and to be more honest, you’re just never a rider, 90% of the time riding his dick is a punishment to make you work for it, but now… well, you kept your skills well stored in. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” he whimpers, hands clenching hard around your waist until his knuckles go white.

“What? You wanted me to fuck you so badly, and now? Bit more than you can chew? Is this too much for you, pretty boy? You can’t take it?”

Jeno shakes his head. “No, no I can, ma’am, I can,” he whimpers, biting his lips harshly.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you hum in satisfaction. Your hands fall at the sides of his head, your smaller body somehow still hovers over him and makes him feel smaller than ever. Your intense stare pins him to the mattress even more, making him shiver. “Give me your hands,” you order, but Jeno doesn’t listen — he doesn’t even hear, too lost in you to pay attention to your voice. “God,” you huff, rolling your eyes back, “I really have to do everything on my own because you’re just that dumb.” You forcefully grab his wrists, pushing his arms over his head and keeping them locked against the bed.

“No, I’m — I’m sorry, I — I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you weren’t,” you mock, stilling before starting to pick up the pace again, “you weren’t listening ‘cause you can only focus on how good I’m making you feel, right? Stupid, dumb puppy can only think about his pleasure.”

“No, no, please, forgive me,” he begs, tears streaking down his face, and words coming out between gags and moans.

“Can you fuck back into me? Or are you too fucked out to do that?”

“No, no, I can. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you, miss,” he promises, lifting his hips to meet you halfway, but his body feels so heavy and his brain is mush, unable to send signals to his muscles.

Your head rolls back and your hands wrap tighter around his wrists, you find yourself grinding against him, rubbing your clit every time you bottom all the way down. But Jeno’s thrusts are sloppy and messy, he’s not even that bad when he’s about to come. “Stupid puppy,” you taunt, slapping his ass. “Can’t even fuck me after all the pleasure I gave you.”

Jeno sobs, literally, loud cries coming from the back of his throat making him almost choke, and you’re about to stop everything in worry before you realize that’s not because you went too far — partially, maybe, he’s not really happy to be said he’s bad — but because he’s close again and he loves the way you talk down to him and slap him.

“Are you coming again?” You ask in utter surprise because you can’t believe it.

But he shakes his head, he’s fighting against himself to hold it back, and for the sake of having at least an orgasm too, you stop your movements.

“I won’t — won’t come,” he mumbles, lips quivering. “Can’t you… can’t you just use me?” he wails. “Please, I’m too tired. Just… use me like a…” The last words are a slur lower than a whisper, and his head turned to the side doesn’t help you hearing what he said.

You tilt your head to the side, cupping his chin to force him to look at you. “Repeat loud and clear if you don’t want to regret it.”

Jeno gulps, nodding vigorously, but his voice still shakes, and his cheeks burn red again as he repeats. “Use me like a dildo, please.”

“Oh… so, this is how you want to be good to me?” You ask, grinding your hips against him, the stimulation is bare for you but so much for him that you trigger whines and whimpers out of him.

“But it will feel good, even if I don’t move, you know it,” he tries to reason, pleading with his glossy eyes. “I can eat you out after, or — or now, whatever you please, miss.”

“Whatever I please, uhm?” You ask, grinning.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do whatever you want.”

You smile, caressing his face, smearing the wet mess around before your hand pats his head. “You’re lucky I want you exactly like this, like a toy.” You start fucking him with no warning, and a gasp rips from his vocal cords before he starts moaning again.

His eyes roll back at each of your hard thrusts, and you see his hands itch because he can’t touch you, but you don’t loosen the hold on him. You feel strong, a kind of power you didn’t even know you had in you, and you don’t want this to stop.

Jeno’s entire body trembles when your hand wraps around his neck, squeezing just enough to dim the flow of air in his lungs. It’s hot but unexpected, just like it’s unexpected that he almost comes on the spot.

“Oh, oh,” you hum in delight, the corner of your lips lifting as you stare at him. “You like it…” Jeno tries to deny but you can read his body; you felt his dick throb inside of you, his eyes flicker to you in light panic before rolling in his skull again, and his breath falter. “Don’t deny it, it wouldn’t be the most pathetic thing you get off to,” you mock, making him blush again. “It’s alright, you can be my naughty boy, I won’t judge.”

He can only hum, and now that you look better in his eyes, you see there’s something completely different behind them. He’s in a completely different headspace, and you fear he won’t last much longer.

It’s the same for you, the thrill and adrenaline can only push you so far, you’re not used to this, bouncing your hips harshly on his cock and having control, your thighs are starting to scream, and your brain doesn’t want to pay them attention but you both know you’re both at the finish line for this first time. Not to add, you’re in desperate need of an orgasm.

“Ti-tight,” Jeno gasps when your hold on his neck loosens enough to let him breathe in normally again, just the time that he can take a few breaths before it fastens again, it’s not too tight, it’s your first time, you don’t want to end with him passed out on the floor, but it’s enough to do its job.

“Yeah? Too tight for you? Can’t take it?”

He moves his head randomly, frenetic movements as he moves his lips to talk, useless. Your cunt is sucking away every coherent thought in his mind, the only thing filling his brain: you and the need to release.

“Don’t talk, don’t need it. I know you’re too sensitive, wanted me so much only to shake underneath me because I’m fucking you too well. Can’t even form a coherent thought in that stupid, little brain of yours, can you?”

He shakes his head, tears streaming down, but you kiss them — lick them — away.

“It’s alright, I don’t want you to think. I like it when your brain is empty. Your just my pretty boy, right? Pretty, good boy that let’s mommy fuck him?”

His nods are eager, and without even realizing his tongue lolls out. You pout at the view, patting his head when you let go of his neck, making him breathe. “Good pup. Just look pretty for me.”

“Pre-pretty,” he whimpers before a fucked-out smile paints his face.

“Yes, baby, you are,” you kiss his lips, petting his hair another time.

“Co-come, wanna come, please. Let me — let me come, ma’am,” he cries out when he has enough air in his lungs and sense in his brain. “Be-begging. I’m beg — mmph,” his words die in his mouth and his eyes squeeze tight when you voluntarily squeeze harder around him.

“Begging? Is this how a good boy begs?” You ask, looking at him sternly, not that it lasts long, because when his eyes open into yours, you fold.

“’M sorry, so-sorry,” he apologizes, “please, miss, let me come, let me come inside of you, let me fill you up. You’ll — you’ll feel good, I promise,” his words are all slurred out together, spit drips from his lips down to his chin and neck, and his body is burning up, if it didn’t mean to edge and denying an orgasm to yourself too, you would probably push him farther, curious to see how far he can go. But for now, it’s fine, he’s a good boy, he deserves it, and so do you.

“Please, please, please, ma’am.”

“You’ve been so good, baby. You can come.”

When you give him the green light, his body explodes, his hips even shyly chase the orgasm up against you, fucking back into you lazily. His head rolls back and as soon as your hand sets him free, his hands find your hips, holding them tight, hissing and groaning when you hold yourself up on his chest, nails digging into his skin as your body keeps bouncing up and down, riding your orgasms.

Your body collapses on his, exhausted and boneless just like his, and his arms wrap around it right away while he still sobs and whimpers in the crook of your neck.

“Shh, it’s alright, you’re alright,” you whisper in his ear while your hand caress his hair, wet again but not with water.

“Don’t — don’t pull out,” he whines when you lift your body, “nooo, don’t leave me.”

“I’m here,” you reassure him right away, carrying his body with yours so you lay on the side and can pull him in a hug. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” he mumbles, hiding between your chest and neck. “Tha-thank you, mhh, thank you for —” his voice breaks and his sobs get a bit louder as he hides more in your hold.

“Hey, it’s fine, take your time,” you say, still soothing him with circular movements on his back and soft rubs on his hair.

Jeno wants to talk, he has many things to say, damn, even an explanation to give to you, but he feels his body is heavy, he feels on a cloud, and you are the softness all over him, he feels safe, something he’s not used to feeling. You didn’t get mad at this, you won’t get mad if he falls asleep for a while, right? If he lulls in this sense of comfort and the aftermaths of what happened.

And almost as if you read his mind… “You can sleep if you want,” you say, kissing his forehead gently and rubbing his nape.

And he has no strength to reply as his body falls into a deep sleep.

When he wakes up, he’s not naked anymore, a big white shirt is around his body, covering just enough so he’s not completely exposed. The mattress is stripped from the dirty sheets and there’s a glass of water on the bedside table, but you’re not next to him.

Jeno almost panics, feeling the post-nut clarity made you run away scared and disgusted, but then the door opens, and you’re there. And it’s the same you he loves deeply. He can breathe again.

“Oh, hi, babe,” you greet with a big smile. You’re holding something in your hands and you’re wearing one of his shirts. “Feeling better?”

Jeno gulps, nodding and smiling at you, words are hard to find.

“Still too fucked out to talk?” You joke, slumping on the bed next to him, handing him the package of his favorite snacks. “Figured you needed some sugar after all that whimpering and squirming.”

“Oh, please, shut up,” he says, hiding his red face behind his hands.

“Hey, you were cute,” you say, grabbing his hands to move them out of the way. “I — I liked it. Did you?”

He nods quickly, okay maybe he’s still a little into that headspace.

You smile and then pout. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it. I’m always so loud and open about everything I want to try and… it never crossed my mind you might have different needs. I don’t know if you’re hiding anything else, but you can talk to me about everything. I love you and even if I might not be into something I won’t let it be the reason for a break-up, or a fight, or worse, making fun of you,” you say, grabbing his hands. “We can always try and then see the outcome. I mean, all that dominance before was improvisation, I was nervous as fuck too, I just tried to act like you usually do, tell me I was good,” you say, scrunching your face as you wait for his opinion.

Jeno laughs, it’s a genuine laugh, and you can almost see the weight being lifted off his chest. You still feel guilty for not making it feel like you could be a safe place for him, but it’s over now.

“You were really good,” he reassures you. “And… yes, I was a bit afraid of your reaction, but it was also something that had to do with myself. I’m — I’ve always been the strong one since I was a kid and then growing up it also turned into being this big ass man with muscles, so the pressure didn’t help.”

You nod in understanding. It makes you feel a bit less guilty, but you feel like there’s something else. “Is this all?”

“I also always have to be confident, but… I get insecure. I just feel like people are so used to me never making mistakes that they don’t even see my struggles or how hard I work for things, so all my hard work goes unnoticed. But I… I want to be… praised, I want to be told I’m doing good, I want people to tell me they’re proud of me.”

You cup his cheek gently and then kiss his nose, making him giggle. “I’m so proud of you, I tell you that, don’t I?”

“Yeah, you do, you’re the only one,” he says, leg bouncing nervously as he tries to find the words. But you’re holding his hand, rubbing circles on his palm and that’s calming him down a bit, or maybe not because he feels like he’s about to cry again.

“Hey,” you caress his chin and then rub your thumb on his cheek, your touch is soft, and his brain shuts off once again. It’s like he’s taking back all the wasted time he had to act tough and don’t melt in your touch. “I’m here, alright? Take your time.”

Jeno nods, small hums slipping out of his lips before he finds the courage to talk. “I don’t know, sometimes I just… I want to feel small. And I want to be the one getting cuddled and petted, and just taken care of. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love doing that for you, but… I always see you being so carefree when you’re with me and sometimes I get… so, so jealous because you can… you can loosen up, turn your brain off and no one will judge you. But if I do it, if I get… vulnerable in your hands, I don’t know what people will say.”

You caress his cheek before your hand runs in his hair, not only because it’s covering his handsome face again, but also because you learned he likes it a lot, and as expected, he smiles. “Do people need to know?”

He tilts his head and furrows in confusion. “They don’t?”

“I doubt people care about our sexual life, or what we do in our home. So, this can be our secret, at least until you’ll feel comfortable enough to let loose even outside of these walls. If you’ll share this with me, it will be less heavy, right?”

Jeno nods, smiling and pushing back tears.

“Hey, crybaby today, aren’t you? Come here,” you say, pulling him into a hug. He holds you tight, still afraid you might slip from his hold, and breathes deep your scent.

When you pull away, Jeno’s looking into your eyes and you hum to signal him he can talk.

“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously, you made me feel safe and not judged, it means the world to me.”

“It’s the way you make me feel always, I’m glad you could feel that way too. And I proved I can protect you even if I don’t have all your muscles,” you joke, lifting your arm and flexing your not-trained bicep, making him laugh. “But seriously, I would never judge you, and I really love this version of you, so, unleash it more often.”

Jeno smiles widely, his eyes turning up in his usual half-moons, and then he lays on the bed, tapping the space next to him. You beam and crawl next to him, pulling him closer again, his head rests on your chest while your hands caress his hair and you just relax in the silence of the house.

“I love you,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head, his hair tickling you for a second. “And I’ll love every version of you, in any universe.”

Jeno still has a secret, but luckily, he has you to share it with.

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