#and that guy definitely walked away with a new kink

[heyitsphoenixx]

its like chris grace's special was great on a similar meta level bc he was like "this is who i am this is the bit im doing and this is why im doing it" and then vanessa 5000 is like "this is who im telling you i am and this is what im doing and maybe ill spit in your mouth and you'll just have to figure out wtf that means and if you stop playing with me we'll both die" lmao

[aureatelys]

red light kiss

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader rating: explicit w.c. : 4k a/n: the vest stays on

c.w.: 18+ MDNI PLSSSS, porn no plot, blowjobs in car!!!, newly established relationship, d/s undertones, some dirty talk and degradation, one hint of sir kink, reader has hair?, no y/n, size kink if you squint

summary:

You haven't had sex in a week, you're stuck in the car with your new boyfriend/boss, and he's wearing that damn Kevlar vest. How could you resist?

read below or on ao3 here <3

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You watch with dread as the train inches to a stop several feet in front of you. It was already going horribly slow for the past 15 minutes, taking so long that Hotch even took his foot off the brake and put the car in park. There’s been a line of cars piling behind you, a median on your left, and a field that goes nowhere on your right, so it’s not like you could escape even if you wanted to.

The team was currently in a small college town in Texas investigating a string of murders happening on campus, leaving the entire population of less than 5,000 on edge. You and Hotch were on the way to question a professor that lived only a couple blocks away from the campus with an old rap sheet a mile long. You honestly hoped that he would be good for it so you guys could go the fuck home.

“Relax,” Hotch murmured, putting a comforting hand on your knee while he called the rest of the team at the station to let them know you two were going to be stuck for a while and to have another pair go out to the professor’s house.

You understand that Hotch was trying to help put you at ease since you’ve been cranky all day. Scratch that, you’ve been cranky the past 3 days. It’s not your fault that the BAU was called on your Saturday off, especially when you planned to spend that day off in bed with your boss.

It had taken a while for you and Hotch to get your act together after gradually crossing that professional boundary. The past 6 months consisted of late-night dinners in Hotch’s office, going to the park with him and Jack on the weekends, and mind-blowing orgasms on possibly every surface in Hotch’s apartment.

You’re not sure when the lines had started blurring for you. Maybe that one day you came into Hotch’s office for dinner after a particularly brutal case and ordered from your favorite Thai restaurant despite everything on their menu being too spicy for him. Or maybe it was when you saw the wide smile adorning his face when Jack scored the winning goal at a soccer game, making him look younger. Or maybe it was when he told you you looked beautiful while you were riding his cock in the darkness of his bedroom, his hands pressing bruises into your hips, and the moonlight strewing in from the curtains illuminating the awe in his eyes.

Only several weeks ago did Hotch properly ask you out to dinner and it’s like everything changed. Suddenly, the glances across the bullpen meant something different, something sweeter. Now, you can be affectionate without fearing Hotch wouldn’t reciprocate. Now, he’s touchier— touching the small of your back when he walks by, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear when you’re having dinner in his office, or pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before you fall asleep on his chest.

It's new and you’re still adjusting. However, it definitely hasn’t stopped the sex.

So, your Saturday plans with Hotch got ruined, that’s fine. It wasn’t like the team had just gotten back from a week-long case and you had barely tumbled into bed with Hotch when his phone rang. And you haven’t even had the chance for a quickie in the hotel, both of you too tired and passing out before even thinking of sneaking in each other’s rooms.

You’re cranky because you haven’t gotten laid in almost a week and you work with possibly the hottest man alive and today, he’s wearing one of your top 3 hottest outfits he’s ever worn.

Your third favorite outfit is his green button-up with the sleeves rolled up, often paired with black jeans. The first time you saw him pull that out for date night, hair perfectly gelled down and sleeves rolled up his wide forearms, you had missed your dinner reservations because you were too busy on your knees in the middle of the doorway. He just looked so good wearing dark green— the way it complemented his complexion, and even better when he wore those tight jeans that made your eyes bug out of your head.

Your second favorite outfit was more intimate—a faded GWU shirt that was starting to stretch over Hotch’s shoulders and gray sweatpants that definitely left little to the imagination. At times, this combination felt straight up pornographic, especially if Hotch was relaxing on the couch, legs spread with his arms stretched behind his head. It felt like a siren call, and you fell for it every single time.

But Hotch right now, not only wearing a plain black tee that stretched over his chest, but also his Kevlar vest, was your most favorite outfit of them all.

You didn’t know why it was your favorite. You see Hotch wearing his Kevlar vest almost twice a week, usually over a white dress shirt, and it doesn’t distract you as much as this specific combination does.

Maybe it’s because you’ve always been a sucker for Hotch’s arms, as you stare at the way he has them stretched out lazily with his wrists resting on the steering wheel, muscles bulging. Or maybe it’s the way the vest hugs him so tightly it makes him look even broader, makes him stand up straighter and appear more confident. Or maybe it’s because Hotch inevitably starts sweating not even 10 minutes after the vest is on due to the constricting material, making his chest heave and sweat form at his forehead. You wear your vest just as often as he does, and you know for a fact that you don’t look as insanely sexy he does.

“Are you okay?”

You blink, brain brought back to reality, feeling a rising heat to your face and down to your stomach. You bring your gaze up from where you were ogling his jean-clad thighs to Hotch staring down at you in amusement. “Yep, why wouldn’t I be? We’ve just been stuck behind this train for hours.”

Hotch cracks a smile at that. It makes your chest tighten. “It hasn’t even been 30 minutes, don’t be so dramatic.”

You lean over to swat at his arm playfully and definitely not an attempt to quickly cop a feel. “How dare you! I’m never dramatic.”

Hotch huffs a laugh at that, used to your antics by now. “Morgan and Reid are already on their way to the Thompson house so we may as well relax.”

Someone several cars down honks, causing Hotch to twist his upper body as best as he could in the vest to look back incredulously, as if they could see him through the tinted windows. You’re suddenly enraptured by the sharp cut of his jaw and the line of his throat. “People here have no patience,” he remarks.

An idea slowly forms in your mind. Not only is it in the middle of the night, but the county-issued SUV that you were in had tinted windows the same strength as the ones back home. No one at the police station was expecting you since they knew you were trapped behind the train and it’s not like you brought any files or your laptop to continue bouncing around ideas about the case.

You watch thoughtfully as Hotch shifts in his seat, adjusting the vest to sit a bit more comfortably. How could you resist?

“I have an idea,” you say, feigning nonchalance.

Hotch’s eyes flit to you, eyes narrowing because, like you said, he knows you by now. “And what idea is that?”

“I can suck you off?”

You watch in delight as Hotch’s eyebrows raise, a flush rising up his neck. He clears his throat, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel, before saying almost breathlessly “And what makes you think I’ll let you?”

You know you’ve already gotten him, that he’s already going to let you go down on him. He wouldn’t be shifting in his seat if he wasn’t. Any other day, he would’ve turned you down instantly, a reprimand telling you to at least pretend to be professional at the tip of his tongue. If you’re sexually frustrated, he must be at least ten times hornier since his libido has always been worse than yours.

“Well, our weekend plans got ruined and this is the first time we’ve been alone in over a week,” you sigh, leaning over the console as gracefully as you could with the vest weighing you down to put your hand on his, running your fingertips up his forearms. “And I miss you.”

A smile quirks at the corner of Hotch’s mouth. “We work together.”

You roll your eyes, letting your fingers trace the veins decorating his arms. God, he’s so hot. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Hotch says, softly, watching you with a gaze so fond that it makes you want to cry. “That doesn’t mean you need to suck my cock while we’re on the job.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Hotch is only vulgar like that in the privacy of the bedroom, knowing how much it gets you off when he’s muttering in your ear about how good you take his cock. The contrast of his soft gaze and lewd words has you shifting in your seat now, thighs rubbing together at the sudden onslaught of heat between them. You’re really about to do this.

“You just look really good in that vest,” you whisper, feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

Hotch hums, leaning back in the seat and moving his hips down. His right arm comes up to stretch out and rest his hand behind your headrest, watching you with dark eyes, almost beckoning you. “So that’s what’s got you all hot and bothered.”

“Yes,” you exhale, already feeling that familiar glaze over your brain. You glance down curiously at his lap and your mouth waters when you see the outline of his half-hard dick through his jeans, undoubtedly uncomfortable because all of his jeans are unfairly tight. “Can I?”

“Come here first.” His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, an action that’s lately been making you weak in the knees. He’s been clingier lately, pressing his lips to any part of you he can take, and you know what he’s asking for, his neck craned and his eyes zeroing in on your mouth.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and nearly bang your knee against the console when you lean over more to kiss him, something tender and gentle despite the way you desperately want to clamber over to sit on his lap. He tastes like cheap coffee and something inexplicably Aaron, warm and soothing, that makes you part your lips to deepen the kiss. His mouth is so soft, yet he kisses you in a way that’s all consuming, heady. His hold on your jaw tightens before sliding down your neck, and the way it would be so easy for him to take a hold of you there makes you dizzy.

When you pull away, he’s watching you with that fond look that’s been making more of an appearance recently. “Now can I?”

There’s that smile with your favorite dimple again, barely detectable even from the dashboard lights and the flashing railroad stop signs. “Yes,” Aaron says, exasperatedly.

You situate yourself with your knees on your seat, your own vest digging into your chest when you lean down lower, so your face is nearly in his lap. He doesn’t even need to move his seat back, his long legs already making him sit ridiculously far from the wheel, leaving you with enough breathing room.

You press your palm against his cock over his jeans and you preen a little when you feel a click in his throat before he clears it. He unbuckles his seatbelt and scoots down in his seat a bit more, causing him to push his hips up against your hand. You try to wrap your fingers around him, marveling at the heat seeping through the fabric. He’s fully hard despite not having done anything except talk and kiss, signifying to you that he may just be as desperate as you are.

“You have to be quick,” Aaron mutters through gritted teeth. You can almost imagine his eyes flitting back and forth out the window, anticipating when the train was going to start moving again.

“Don’t rush me,” you say and get the reaction you’re hoping for when you feel Aaron’s large hand on the top of your head, pushing your face down into his lap until your mouth is inches away from the outline of his cock.

“You have such a mouth on you,” Aaron sighs, feigning the type of nonchalance that makes your cheeks heat. “Maybe you should put it to good use.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Your hands swiftly unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down, your mouth already watering. He helps you by lifting his hips up again and wiggling his jeans and briefs down until they’re mid-thigh, and then his hard cock is out, a pretty red with precum glistening at the tip. The way it looks against his vest, soft flesh contrasting against the rough material, has you licking your lips.

This has to be the best idea you’ve ever had.

Since Aaron was right about you possibly not having a lot of time, you forgo your usual teasing kitten licks for a broad stripe up his length and watch intently at the way the head of his cock brushes against his vest. Aaron jumps at the rough feeling against the sensitive head but lets out a low groan all the same. Something akin to glee fills you when you notice the wet patch his cock leaves on the blue fabric.

Aaron must notice because his hand is back on your head, putting pressure in a way that was hard to ignore. “You’re so filthy, practically begging me with those pretty eyes of yours to have my cock down your throat.”

You don’t answer, you know he’s not expecting one anyway. Instead, you grab his cock at the base, silently marveling at just how big he is in your hand, and lick another path up his cock before taking him fully in your mouth.

You always love sucking Aaron off— the weight of him on your tongue, the clean and musky taste of him, and the way he fills out your mouth and just feels so good in your hands. The best part is clearly the way he responds.

He groans deeply, a sound coming straight from within his chest, and you hear the thud from him throwing his head back against the headrest. You rest your free hand on his muscular thigh, marveling at the obvious way he’s attempting to hold himself back from immediately fucking into your mouth. He gives you a minute since it’s been a while, although you can feel the way his hand on your head clenches into a fist, patience already wearing thin.

You swirl your tongue around his head before taking more of him into your mouth, letting spit run down his length so you can stroke whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. You wish you had gotten a better look at his cock before doing this to marvel at the bulging veins, similar to his arms. Instead, you trace the vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue before coming back up to press against the head and coming up to flick your tongue against his leaking slit.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good, sweetheart.”

God, you wish you were able to see his face, the way he would be watching you with half-lidded eyes like he couldn’t decide whether to close them in pleasure or watch your lips stretch around him. He’d be biting at his lip, attempting to suppress his sounds because he’s still self-conscious about having his dick out in a government vehicle. He would have a crease between his brows, still trying to give you time to adjust and not giving in, and the flush on his neck would slowly rise up to his face.

But with the way you’re leaning with the console digging into you, your ass basically in the air, you can’t. As if Aaron read your mind, his right hand runs down your spine, leaving a hot trail in his wake, and down until he’s grabbing a handful of your ass. It’s so close to the aching heat of your pussy and your head spins when you start to wonder if he’s going to finger you like this or leave you wanting with wetness seeping through your pants.

The feeling of his hand on you and the way he inadvertently pushes you causes your mouth to slide another inch down his cock until your lips touch your fist. You moan, tightening your grip on his impossibly hard flesh, causing Aaron to let out another deep moan.

There’s another honk from behind the car and you suddenly remember that Aaron was right and you really don’t have a lot of time to waste.

So, you take a deep breath through your nostrils before you slide down until you could take as much of him as you could, spit starting to run out of the corners of your mouth, until he was hitting the back of your throat.

Aaron lets out a strangled sound, hips thrusting of his own accord. Luckily you were expecting it and you make sure to relax your jaw just a little bit more, slide down more until you move your hand away to settle on his thigh and your nose is pressed against neat curls. You focus on your heartbeat pounding in your ears and the feeling of his cock prodding at the back of your throat when you hold for two seconds and not the automatic way you want to gag before coming up to gasp in a breath. You barely hear the whisper of your name from Aaron’s lips before you’re taking him in his mouth again, easily due to how slick he is from your spit, until you’re deepthroating him.

“You always take my cock so well,” Aaron chokes out, his hands frantically coming to gather your hair in one hand before he barely pushes your head down and then back up. The hold he has on you isn’t rough, which you’re grateful for, but he still tugs you off his cock with a force that makes you dizzy. He makes you crane your neck at him, uncomfortably, but it’s worth it when you see the glazed look in his dark eyes and his parted lips as he pants in the air. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You know you’re panting just as hard, tears already starting to prickle at the corner of your eyes, and your mouth swollen. You know Aaron loves you like this, open-mouthed and silently begging. So, you can’t help yourself when you lick your lips, relishing in the way Aaron’s hungry gaze follows the movement, and say in a raspy voice “Yes, sir.”

You never would’ve guessed Aaron liked being called sir in the bedroom, though you secretly hoped, but you didn’t realize the full extent of it until you called him sir as a joke in his office and noticed the way his back stiffened and his breath stuttered. After that, you always got a kick out of teasing him, just to see what he had in store for you when you got home.

You know exactly what he has in store for you now, in fact you had planned it. Your skin prickles as Aaron’s eyes narrow and the line of his mouth flattens. His chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath and you watch the way the vest moves with him, shirt underneath stretching across him. He doesn’t say anything as he pushes you down, gentle enough so you know you could always back out if you wanted to.

You ignore the sore twinge in your neck as you wrap your lips around him again, closing your eyes to focus on covering your teeth, leaving one hand on his thigh in case you need to tap out and the other bent at the elbow to lean on the plush upholstery. You hear Aaron sigh blissfully when his cock slides back into your mouth, a hand gathering your hair again in a vice like grip, like he’s been thinking about this all week.

The way Aaron starts to fuck your mouth, you think you may be right. The thought of holding back seems to have been thrown out the window based on the noises he makes; guttural and heavy groans and whispered praises. Seeing his hips come off from the seat and into the warm wetness of your mouth and the easy glide of his cock between your lips is intoxicating, especially when added with the fact that you’re letting him.

The ache between your legs is almost overwhelming, pulsing with every thrust of Aaron’s hips against your face, and you wouldn’t be surprised if your panties were absolutely ruined by now from your arousal.

The sound of him fucking your mouth is obscene, lewd as the car is filled with the sounds of him hitting the back of your throat and his breathless pants. You let him take over and you watch with tears brimming at your eyes as his hips barely need to lift off the seat since he’s focusing all of his attention pulling you on and off his cock by your hair. The feeling of his cock thrusting in your mouth, of him using you to get himself off quickly is heady and so fucking hot.

You know he��s close when he starts to speed up, hips bucking into your open mouth frantically. You feel him start to pull you off of him in a silent question of where do you want me and the thought of him coming down your throat, hot and desperate, has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. The next time he thrusts into your mouth, you hold him there, the spot in the back of your throat deliciously raw.

“Jesus Christ,” you hear Aaron mutter through the blood rushing in your ears. “You want me to come in your mouth, sweetheart? So no one knows you were letting me fuck your mouth?”

You whimper, a muffled sound from your lips stretched around his cock, causing Aaron’s hips to stutter again. You pull off of him but you don’t move far, instead just barely hovering over the head, panting with your mouth open and tongue out, the message clear as day. You watch as Aaron’s free hand comes down to quickly jerk himself off.  

“Fuck, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Everyone knowing how good you are for me?”

God, you really wish you could see his face, but to make up for it, you move to press your tongue against him as best as you could while his hand is a blur on his cock. You’re barely able to tongue the slit, the salty taste of his precum cutting through, when you hear the roaring of an engine and a train horn.

You realize the train’s finally moving, which means now you’re really running out of time.

You squeeze his thigh, not trusting your ability to speak, and Aaron wordlessly brings you down so you could further wrap your lips around the head of his cock, flicking your tongue against him, his hand continuing to bring himself off. The way his large hand envelops his thick cock, slick from your spit and squelching lewdly, has you pressing your thighs together in an effort to press the inseam of your pants against your clit, because the blur of his hand and his rhythmic grunts were so filthy.  

It didn’t take long for Aaron’s raspy exhales to turn into a stuttered groan, his muscled thigh underneath your hand tensing, and his hips to snap up once, twice, before his come is shooting into your mouth in hot spurts. The bitter taste coats your tongue, your throat, and you swallow before you can think of it. You hollow your cheeks, taking more of him in your mouth and press your tongue against the slit to gather whatever is left despite the hiss you faintly hear, Aaron undoubtedly sensitive.

You lift up off him, using his leg as leverage, and ignore the soreness in your abdomen from the console pressing against your vest while you sucked your boss’s cock in a government issued vehicle. The ache between your thighs is nearly overwhelming, your panties melding against your pussy from how wet you were, and you secretly wished Aaron used his thick fingers to give you some relief while you went down on him.

The train just barely passes by you before the red lights stop flashing and the barriers come up, causing Aaron to hurriedly tuck himself back in his jeans and put the car back in drive. You’re just barely buckling your seatbelt in before you’re speeding off, the glaring lights from the cars behind you now a distant memory.

“You okay?” you ask after you’ve been driving in silence for nearly 5 minutes. You glance over at Aaron to see him almost done catching his breath, however his chest is still rising and falling deliciously so, especially still in that fucking vest. His jeans are still undone and you bite your lip when you notice a dried spot near the zipper where some of him must have escaped from the corner of your mouth. Oops.

Aaron shakes his head, ducking his head to chuckle breathlessly. He’s so endearingly handsome. “Never been more okay in my life.” And then he’s placing his hand on your thigh, fingertips so close to where you need him most, and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

At the next stoplight, Aaron finally does his jeans back up and then twists his body towards you. His eyes are still dark, bottom lip raw from where he must have been biting it, and then says to you again in a low voice “Come here.”

You obey, because how could you not, and then Aaron’s hand that was on your thigh is cradling your jaw to meet you halfway and kiss you, deeply. It’s a different kiss than the one he gave you earlier, more intense as his tongue slides against yours. He groans at the taste of himself in your mouth and you swear you fall a little more in love with him.

When he pulls back, he’s looking at you like you’re something precious, despite the fact that your hair must be a rat’s nest from his hands and your lips are swollen and chapped. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, something sweet twitching at the corner of his mouth. “You think you can wait until we get back to the hotel?”

You fail to hide your surprise because Aaron rarely wants to spend the night together on cases, which technically explains how you got here in the first place, the taste of come still at the back of your mouth and your panties sticking to you. He must really want to fuck you. You run your eyes over him, at the red light sharpening his features and his dimple just barely visible. You imagine him looming over you and holding onto the straps adorning his sides as he fucks mercilessly into you. “As long as you keep the vest on.”

The smile on Aaron’s face is blinding, causing your heart to stutter in your chest. You’re so screwed.

“Deal.”

[screampied]

‘ ONE OF HIS GIRLSSSS ! ,

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. toji ends up finding out maybe his best friend's daughter isn’t so innocent after all once he walks in on you and your precious 12k viewers. he grows amused by your little side hustle as a cam girl. but actually, maybe having him as a special guest wasn’t so bad. (girl it was)

wc. 6k

warnings. fem! reader, vōyerism, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), unprotected, praise, dirty talk, squírting, cunnílingus, slight dumbification, impact play, size kink, spit.

dbf! toji masterlist

“guys, i’m serious,” you’d utter, your monitor staring right back at you — a full live audience of over twelve thousand eyes listening to you speak. you were cooped up in your room, slouching on your chair with your legs pressed together. “he’s totally real. we even almost got caught one time.”

you were referring to your dad’s best friend, toji…

just muttering his name aloud made you feel all sorts of tingles. oh, to think how that 'one time' was just about three days ago. you still remember everything like it just happened, the intoxicating taste of toji’s lips, his unforgettable loud cologne scent, how fucking mean he was, you missed him, who were you even kidding. last time you checked, him and your father went out somewhere. you didn’t bother to care where, probably fishing or something.

skimming through the plethora of donations with filthy questions, thirsty provocative questions that desperately craved your attention, you read one, “how is he in bed, oh—well,” and you squeeze your thighs before re-adjusting your screen. “he’s okay. i had to fake my orgasms a few times though, figures ‘cause he’s kinda old.”

“oh yeah?”

as if on cue, there toji stood—right outside your doorway, hands buried in his deep roots of pockets and that same unreadable expression. he’s sending you straight daggers, you crane your neck to glance at him before you panic, “uh, i’ll talk to you guys later.”

“nah keep that shit on, girl,” he shakes his head, trodding his bare feet towards you. you mentally face palm. you could have sworn he was out somewhere with your father. “just when i thought ya couldn’t get even freakier,” he mutters, and he’s now behind you—green irises peering at your monitor. the chat suddenly spams with some of your audience lusting over toji, wondering if he’s a special guest. “heyyy,” he says to the screen, his voice was a pitchy low and then you gasp once he throws an arm around you. “is he a special guest?” and then he turns to you with a sly grin. “i don’t know, princess . . am i?”

“. . . i mean i guess,” you speak, not even realizing how your tone softens a bit. this always happened, whenever you were just a few feet away from toji, you’d feel so tense. it’s officially been a week since the two of you were screwing around—you hadn’t gotten caught, at least you think you haven’t gotten caught. the thrill of it all though, it was enticing. he eyes your little set up and he’s amused more than anything. “this is the guy i was telling you guys about,” you avert your dilated pupils back towards the bright screen. “this is . . . toji.”

“heh yo,” he scoffs at the screen with a greet, seeing how your confidence fades the moment he’s in the room with you. toji leans beside you, eyeing the lewd comments before one catches his eye. “tell him to turn around. what for?”

you sheepishly grin at the webcam, knowing some of your aroused fans wanted to take a quick peek at toji’s ass. to be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame them. you stare a bit yourself, and it was definitely. . . something.

three new tips from mod gojoclitoru: girl bye he looks like he doesn’t shower

wormfucker69: he looks like the guy who works @ my cleaners lol

shokostrapdestroyer: Where’s Shoko ?????

kanyeastinfection: Soooo hawt ;)

iloveosamudazai: i miss nanamin

“how come y’er all shy? i heard what you’ve been saying ‘bout me, y’know,” toji mumbles. he stands tall, cracking his neck towards the left. his entire frame, he was always so handsome. you take a moment to glance up at him, his perfectly chiseled physique. he looked like he was about to head to the gym, he had on a simple wife beater with dingy grey sweats. his gaze he had towards you was purely tantalizing. “. . ah,” he inches closer towards you, bending down as you sat on the office chair, getting right up close to your face. “why don’t you repeat that last bit for me. you fake your orgasms with this old man?”

“i didn’t ….” you trail off, trying to come up with some excuse. suddenly, it felt hot. you felt hot.

your heart starts to race the more he stared you down. the chat was going at a much more rapid speed, it’s like your viewer count doubled the moment toji entered. then you thought—maybe this would do you some good, having him as a special guest didn’t seem so bad.

he lightly grabs your chin, making you peer straight into his eyes. “i stay away from you for three days ‘n it seems like you forgot how to act.”

toji did have a point precisely, for the last three days you basically had the entire house to yourself. him and your father went out to some business trip, you missed him though.

of course, if you tagged along you’d be sure you’d both get caught so you just offered to watch over the house. it was as if the more time you spent with toji, the more you started to feel something.

you didn’t know what it was, it was hard to put into detail, put into pure words—but you knew for certain, you didn’t wanna stop seeing him. it was spring break after all…

“i meant what i said,” you mutter.

while returning his gaze, toji’s eyes widen for a bit, off guard by your sudden switch of attitude. you had a bit of a plan, you decided if you played along, your sweet thousands of fans would eat it up. and they were, the repetitive high-pitch sounds of constant donations rang through your ears before you continue to speak. “i faked everything, toji.”

his eyes linger into you for a long time before he drags a thumb down your lip. “well shit. that so?” and his voice—it pitches a dangerous tune. you already start to feel your thighs squeeze together more tightly. “mhm,” he grunts, watching you nod your head in response. he scoffs to himself before grumbling. “maybe i should make it more real for you then.”

with such simple words, trust and believe he does.

toji’s way of making it more real was to simply have you ride his face, all in front of your audience too.

for some reason, you felt burning up coming to the sheer realization that literally all eyes were simply on you. a quick glance at your blue light monitor and the viewer count displayed a hefty whopping amount of 12,295. all you could think about it was the hefty bank you were about to make.

your legs quaver as toji’s laid flat on your old bed, having you take your seat right on his face — his breath is hot as he runs his tongue alongside your inner thighs before giving you a stare. “eyes down here, not them,” he snarls, and you moan once he spanks your pre-soaked clit, your panties still attached. “they aren’t about to fuckin’ eat you out, are they?”

“n—no,” you murmur out, looking down back at him and he slowly runs a fat thumb down your slit.

oh, you were soaked alright.

a cute little damp spot between the middle part of your underwear makes an appearance and he slides his tongue all against it. he’s so slow with it all, making sure to take his time to make you pout out for him. “toji,” you mumble, feeling your tummy sink in before you huff out a single breath. he’s still so attractive, even underneath you—a little yet nice amount of facial hair scatters near certain parts of his face. scattered specks of brief darkened hair near his sharp jaw paint his face like an empty canvas. you run a finger against his chin and he shoots you a sleazy grin. “hurry up, toji.”

dark eyes flicker back towards you before he gifts your sopping pussy a mean spank. “hurry up toji,” he mocks your tone. you melodically whimper, watching as he licks a single stripe between your covered slit. “shut the fuck up. ‘m gonna take my time with you since apparently you ‘fake’ everything.”

you couldn’t help but merely slip out a giggle, your comment really offended him in some way. obviously, you were joking though—you and toji both knew he knew how to snatch multiple orgasms out of you at once. he was quite a skilled man without question, with his tongue—his dick, literally anything.

although, you snap out of your salacious thoughts the moment you feel him latch his tongue against your folds. it took you a minute to realize your panties were already off, he practically ripped them off and he was already digging in. you whimper, hovering your weight over his face before staring at the lit up monitor.

BIGDICKKUNA: Even my domain has better camera quality than this

gojoclitoru: here sukuna go…

FOXYKITTEN2940: clean up aisle my pants >.<

you’re starting to grind against his face, a hand combing through his hair before your bite your lip. toji stares at you, dragging a thumb down your puffy slit before leaning back to spit on it. he was always such a sloppy man—no shame in the world. you’d feel yourself pulsate whenever he did that, departing his lips away from your cunt before collecting a good wad of saliva to coat your folds with such a sheeny translucent color.

squelch after squelch, undeniably you were sopping. his nose briefly prods against your nub and you whine once he finally starts to actually eat you out.

“f-fuckkk.” you’d breathe, intaking a sharp breath. sudden dizziness overtook you—a thrum escapes from your sheeny lips as you rock your hips forward. it was hypnotic, the way you move against his mouth. toji looked so pretty underneath you too. his eyes, so hooded and half lidded—such a hungry gaze, a starved animal. he starts tantalizingly slow at first, making sure to lay the flat of his tongue against your entrance before simply digging in.

side—to—side, his head continues to swiftly shift and move as he’s devouring his meal, a thumb continues to strum against your slick arousal before he starts to suck, suck, suck.

candy, a perfect way to describe your taste in toji’s humblest opinion. he could never get enough, a few long strands of his hair tickles against your thighs as he resumes his sloppy eating. “mhm. pull on it.” he says between hot breaths, and you feel a sudden fire ignite inside of you. you knew immediately he was referring to his hair. such ruffled, messy strands desperately awaiting to be tugged by your fingers.

so you do—you take a good grab, lightly yanking him forward and he grunts.

“. . harder,” he rasps, and he’s already starting to look blissed out. eyes all glazed over, you wriggle over his face before you feel a sudden shiver overtake you. you pull harder and his face goes right against your cunt. you sloppily swipe against his nose like a credit card and he smirks at you. “that’s what ‘m talking about. ride my face, girl.”

his words, his filthy vulgarly words guide you through it all.

each pulse makes you twitch even more—each breath that runs out your mouth feels like it’s going to be your last, especially with a tongue like toji’s. he makes sure not to miss a drop, slurping quite everything out of you. he was a man—not necessarily a clean one, but he was never scared of a little mess. you start to coat the bottom part of his chin with your slit, it’s glistening so much.

after a while, toji’s already drunk off of your sweetened taste. every few flicks of his tongue against your nub makes cute whimpers coo out your throat and you only tighten the grip against his hair.

“r-right there, ‘s good when you suck there, toji.”

“cause i know what the fuck ‘m doing.” he grumbles back, bringing his same thumb to slide down your slit. he repeats it again and again. smearing your own mess right back on you, only to clean it up. he was a messy man, and with a tasty pussy that you had—you only made him ten times messier.

he was never one to complain though, toji’s the type to never say thank you—he shows you how grateful he is, it involves with being between your legs.

toji fushiguro…

a sleazy man without a single care in the word, maybe messing around his with best friend’s daughter slash colleague was a bit taboo. but did he care—no, was he gonna stop doing it—no, was he perhaps catching feelings for you the more time he spends with you? were you catching feelings?

. . .

unanswered questions, even if you asked yourself that question, you honestly couldn’t even know how to reply. the two of you never really labeled anything, so this was just a simple spring break fling right?

once courses resume and you go back to your well prestige university your father got you into due to connections, that’d probably be the last you’d see of him. toji fushiguro, the man you’ve been screwing around with for the past almost two weeks. it’s almost safe to say that you started to get attached to his presence—sometimes it’s like the two of you didn’t even care if you got caught. there was literally a time where toji fingered you under the table during dinner.

that was . . embarrassing.

the way you were trying to withhold a conversation with your father—he’s just rambling you about what a boring day he had at the office and you’re over here gushing on his best friend’s fingers. you find yourself thinking about that specific moment all too well—as well as the various other ones, him fucking you on the hood of his car, in the living room, and even the bathroom—which your panties ended up getting found.

oops.

“told you to keep those fuckin’ eyes on me,” he hoarsely rasps—snapping you out of your lewd reminiscing fantasm. his tongue, it’s swirling all against your clit as you focus your attention back towards him. with two big hands, he holds your jerky hips steady—feeling you rut against his mouth before he feels you pulse right in his mouth. “yeah.” he mutters, bringing two digits to prod towards your slick entrance. you whine, feeling him slowly insert them with ease—so wet, he was almost in awe at how you were dripping like a faucet. not even a faucet could compare nor describe how sodden your sweet cunt was. each lap he makes with his tongue gets more filthy, it turns into sucking before you’re practically spasming all over again.

you moan, hands still tight and rigidly tangled within his strands before you take a quick peek at your laptop. so many eyes were on you—so many more eyes now, the count was steadily doubling, the donations you were receiving made your mouth nearly water. tip after tip, your pupils turned into green dollar signs. this was probably the most viewers you had in the entirety of your little cam girl side hustle.

all thanks to toji.

you’re getting close, it’s inevitable—especially with the way your hips continue to rock back and forth. a cute rhythm he got accustomed to, toji brings two rough hands towards the fat mounds of your ass before squeezing it. he was always a handsy man, feeling all over your body. green pools of eyes stare right at you as you’re intaking each staggering breath that escapes your spit-glossed lips. ��c-close, toji,” you’d babble out, your knees almost buckle—a sudden twinge pouring into your lower abdomen before you mewl. “gonna—cum, gonna—”

“baby hold it,” he says sternly, the base in his voice never failing to make you wet. he breaks his lips away for a moment before he glances at the screen—an upside down position. “hm. chat, should the pretty girl finish early?”

your heart drops—you knew how many trolls you had in your audience, and before you could cutely tell him to just let you climax, he hums in amusement at the incoming flood of comments.

chososbootylicker29: Petition to have Toji oiled and cheeked up

zorosballswallower: NOOOOO

anonymoususer: dad?

gojoclitoru: lol no.

and with many others the comments continue to flood.

majority of the answers being no—you hated being edged, loathed it. especially with toji because he was so damn mean. he snickers, reading the responses upside down before you feel the two tips of his fingers shove way deep inside you. your back arches and you whine ore he holds your hips in place with a single hand. “looks like y’er little fans want you to wait pretty girl,” and you look down at him with a cute glare—his lips depart and his entire mouth from the very bottom of his chin was damp. even still, he looked so attractive. “cute. a glare ain’t gonna change nothing though,” and a pout shortly stretched against your lips as he runs his tongue near your frantic pulsing clit. he brings a spank to it and it makes you whine. “be a good girl ‘n wait a little longer.”

“i can’t,” you frown out, and that only earns another sharp spank towards your folds.

“yes you fuckin’ can,” and you start to whine once he stops eating you out. it felt so warm, all of a sudden the cold air wafts against your skin and you shudder. toji loves more than anything to spank your pussy whilst staring right into your eyes. “if i tell my girl to wait, she’s gonna wait.”

my girl…

for some reason, that made your pulsing ten times worse, a plethora of butterflies arise inside your stomach and you’re still just hovering over his face.

he palpates his fingers—not his tongue to rummage all inside your cunt, you frown cutely. you wanted his tongue, not his stubby thick fingers. although, the thing you wanted most was to finish. as you grind against his face, you feel his infamous scar run against your pussy and it tickles. it tickles in such a way that it drags out a sweet crying moan from you.

“t—toji,” you start to grow impatient. he’s just teasing you, blowing against your folds with warm breath, swiping his nose alongside your sopping entrance, anything but tasting you again. he likes seeing you like this, on the brink of tears because you got denied a climax. it started to come closer and closer until once it was finally there—you puff up your cheeks for a split second before moaning. “g-god, i can’t hold it. ‘m gonna cummm.”

“wait,” he utters in a husky rasp, watching as you quaveringly hover over his face—chin just soaked with your arousal, he licks the bottom of his lip before tittering at you. “you finish when i’m ready.”

“f-fuck you,” you whimper, and you end up cumming anyway—he’s taken aback but it only arouses him even more. the brat, oh the brat that you were. one of the many things he liked about you, you were submissive but not entirely—you had a backbone, you talked back to him, you even had the nerve to roll those pretty eyes at him.

it hits you like a semi-truck.

illegal full speed, the brakes were had to step on and you feel it just strike right into you at full force. your orgasm, you scoot your hips forward against his mouth and now he’s the one glaring at you. toji laps up all of you, two fingers spreading your clit apart before he spits on it again. “you just don’t listen, huh,” and his voice was even lower than it was before—a rich baritone lingering underneath it. you’re riding out your climax when he lightly shoves you on the bed.

in your mind, you’re thinking . .

finally, the good part.

toji grimaces at the cute smile that goes against your lips. you’re eager just as him— not to mention, it’s been three days since he’s touched you. “don’t get too excited, brat,” he grumbles with a scowl tugging the corners of his mouth. he plops onto the bed before staring down at you. “bend the fuck over for me. fake orgasm my ass.”

so blunt, you immensely comply—so impatient for him to just be inside of you.

the piles of donations triple by this point, and you try to take a peep at your screen before he spanks your ass. “ass up, face down little girl. don’t got all day.”

“sorryyy,” you giggle with a mere eye roll.

testing toji’s patience was always so fun for you. for whatever reason, getting on his nerves really turned you on. once you finally bend over for him, two hands grab the fats of your ass and you bite your lip once he prepares to align himself. you’re facing your bright lit screen.

the comments talking more about toji than you and you pout . . . figures though. he’s hot, no wonder all the attention would be on him instead of you.

with his right hand, he wraps it around his thick length before rubbing his tip against your pre-drenched entrance. he grunts, witnessing how your pussy tries to swallow him so easily…

you’re puckering, awaiting for him to stuff you full as you’re slump right into the mattress. “but sweetheart, y’er not sorry,” he grunts, smacking his fat tip against your slick folds. a soft mewl runs out the back of your throat before you arch just a bit more. with another spank, he snarls in a huff, “not gonna fuck ya that easy. y’er gonna have to use those manners if you wanna get what you want.”

“huh?”

“huh?” he mocks, kissing your ass with another spank from his palm. “you can’t hear? speak, girl. talk ‘ta me nice.”

glossy eyes of yours avert towards your screen, everyone’s lusting over toji and it only fuels his ego even more—you easily felt yourself throb, a pout never leaving your lips before you inhale.

“please . . ” you start, feeling him softly drag a hand against your curves, your physique. his touch always had you weak, taking in every part of your frame. all his . . just for these few weeks.

“please what?”

“please f—fuck me,” you grumble, and you’re growing more and more irritated—he hums to himself, amused. each second you spend speaking, each second he could be inside of you. you and him both knew that.

toji rubs his leaky tip with a bit more pressure against your pussy, just a a little more and he’d be inside. you started to feel your mouth salivate before you start to whine. “hm,” he ponders to himself, green eyes occasionally staring at the laptop that had about hundreds of comments spamming per second. “fine. i feel like bein’ nice to you today, especially since i haven’t seen my girl in a hot minute,” and again, he refers to you as his girl. it sends an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies brewing up in your stomach before he spanks you for probably the umpteenth time now. “now, arch a liiiitle more ‘n stare at your fans for me, yeah.”

you’re propped on the mattress with your ass all up in the air. from your screen as you stare at it, you spot toji’s mirroring reflection. that sly smile that slowly and gradually forms against his lips.

“lie the fuck down.” he mutters, feeling you try to sit up. you do, intaking a single breath before you feel him huff out a low puff. toji’s eyes stare right at your ass, he takes every moment in. the way you suck him in, it’s just filthy. the saturated squelches that shortly follow afterward—so filthy.

a six letter word to perfectly describe this entire situation.

arched over for your dad’s best friend, who would have thought—not you, not in a million years.

“ . . . shit,” he pants, and you’re so wet. you moan, pawing at the fat silk sheets in front of you. so many flooded comments of your audience merely thirsting over toji, wishing desperately that they were in your position. ( . . quite literally . . )

and toji’s just so fucking big.

he’s got a lofty height of inches under his belt.

metaphorically speaking—just a single sharp thrust and you’re speechless.

the wind gets snatched out of your lungs and it’s so vigorous that your head’s spinning. this entire angle, he’s got you right where he wants you—on all fours with your ass perked up. toji can’t keep his hands to himself anyway, his hands roam all over your waist before holding both hips in place. clammy hands just about stick to your skin before he starts to create a decent pace.

a slow pace — a slow pace that turns more mean.

languidly, you feel yourself leaning to his touch as he runs a hand down your spine.

toji brings one leg up to deepen the position and not even moments later, your lips part.

“t—toji . . ah ah,” and you don’t even recognize yourself. he repositions himself for a split second, making haste with his hips before sliding his feet right past your knees. with this, it’s more stimulation and you feel it all. just the right amount of pressure, his balls sharply thwack against your ass and it makes your mind cloud up with fuzz.

“. . damn,” he groans, a hand grabbing towards the back of your university hoodie. as he leans forward, dark viridescent colored pupils stare at your rear. the way it jerks and recoils against him, everytime . . it’s the best part. even more when he spanks it, deepening his hips against your cunt to earn out a cute whine or two from you. for what seemed like the millionth time, toji kisses the right cheek of your ass with various spanks. the sting has you gnawing on your lip like it’s candy, curling your toes up with a few droplets of sweat coating the bridge of your nose. “missed this pussy, three days too fuckin’ long, brat.”

“i missed you t—.”

“girl hello? i wasn’t talking to you.”

you frown, and it follows from a snicker from him.

“. . . so dramatic,” he’d eye roll once he hears you blow out a cute sigh. “fine, i did miss you,” and that was only a half lie. you knew in actuality, he missed what’s between your legs. toji still remained sassy as usual, it never left and it’d always stay. he’s buried all into you, deep to the hilt that each time his angry reddened tip drives against that spot, you squeal out in sweet pleasure.

it didn’t take him long to locate it, your g-spot. after a while you start to feel your pussy open, spreading wide—gaping. he was so ridiculously big, it’s leaving such question marks floating over your forehead because how can someone be this thick.

with a gruff—toji groans, veins bulging through his veins as he yanks your hoodie forward into him. he’s lenient, at least for a good while. letting you have your fun, get drunk off his cock before he edges you a more . . . oh just maybe.

gojoclitoru: does anyone want the link to my only fans :(

willbang4curses: Idk who I wanna be more…

iamnotsugurugetoseriouslyiamnothim: i want your only fans @/gojoclitoru

hotpeach03: Toji please I’m a single mom

your chat continues to spate, it’s so much that as your eyes watch them all flood down the logs, you could barely read the words.

he’s so deep inside, you’re almost drooling.

the stretch—he always leaves you so full, lips all parted and that same gaping mouth opening. pant after pant, you’re heaving heavily with your chest feeling tight and warm. “so deep,” you’d shriek, and he makes your arch lower just a bit further. he’s hitting all the right spots, not missing a single area. his dick retreats as it pulls out, then back again—twitching all inside of your cunt, he lunges forward with his hips before making you plop on your chest. “. . . .ohmygodohmygoddd,” and you were so whiney, you still can’t believe such pathetic noises slither past your damp lips. engulfed with your warm gummy walls squeezing him tight, he spanks you again . . . and again, and again.

“miss me that bad, huh?” he starts to speak. his voice was a pitchy rasp. a gruff base hides underneath it and you can hear the grit lingering like he needs to clear his throat. nevertheless, you throb anyway as he’s jackhammering his cock right into your swollen cunt over, and over, and over. “that why ya keep walkin’ around with these outfits? with no fuckin’ panties underneath, yeah?”

“forgot,” you whimper, shuddering once you feel toji grow playful. he trails his thumb towards your neglected puckering hole, fiddling with it just to get a reaction out of you, and he does. “s-sorry, ‘m sorry.”

“you don’t just forget to put panties on, slut,” he groans, and he feels himself approaching soon. it’s at the tip of his tongue—he feels the burn arise in the lower parts of his thighs, veins contouring to bulge all throughout his body. “wonder what y’er old man would think. ya only pull this shit ‘cause ‘s just you ‘n me here.”

he was right.

then again—if you’d have your father here, you’d never pull a bold stunt like that.

you’d rather drop dead than save yourself the embarrassment. funny though, considering the amount of times you almost got caught.

“so . . ” you mumble, and that’s when he presses his weight right against you this time. ah, prone bone.

you were really in for it now, thickly you swallow before his weight merely hovers over your ass, really deep in you this time.

he vigorously rams his thick cock into your sweltering cunt that’s hugging him oh so tight. he’s such a tease too—using every few chances he gets to poke and gingerly rub a thumb against your pulsating hole.

sweet moans die from your throat as you’re clinging onto the bed—such force that the springs nearly collapse from the whopping amounts of weight creating sheer impact. each thrust, it rings rapidly throughout your ears before toji groans. “f—fuck,” he’d groan, ignoring your little attempts of pure bratiness. you were at your wits end, smothering your glossed lips together before you feel his rounded cockhead mash against your most forbidden spots. spots that was so deep inside the inner areas of your cunt that it makes you mewl out in pure ecstasy. “gonna make me fill you up, princess,” he huffs out, tugging even tighter on the bottom part of your cerulean blue pull over. “s—shit,” and his gruff voice pitches time and time again. for a moment, you think you can hear toji whimper. it was real subtle though, but you heard it. loud and clearly. “gonna take it like you always do?”

“yesyesyes,” you nod—words pouring out of your lips like a waterfall, kneading your fingers into your palms as you bawled up the bedsheets right into your hands. with hooded droopy eyes, you stare at the screen with a dumb expression—he then takes the opportunity to get closer, grabbing you by the hair before holding your head up in front of your thousands of viewers.

“yes what, girl.”

you whine, feeling how perfectly his dick mashed throughout your folds—so easy for him, he was so thick that the stretch was simply immaculate.

“yesss, ‘m gonna take your c-cum, toji,” you’d pant, feeling your own eyes roll backwards—you probably looked a mess in front of your own thirteen thousand viewers, but you could care less. all that your empty brain could fathom was how you were ludicrously stuffed with his hefty cock. he’s drilling into you so good that that it almost feels like a massage. rough fingers run down your spine with one hand, another holding your head by the hair like it’s a prized possession before you whimper. “fuck me, fuck me, fuh—”

toji slaps a hand over your mouth the minute he hears something from downstairs—sure enough, it had to be your father.

shit.

he must have came home early. you remember him mentioning to you he was taking a trip to the corner store after work, probably to get some booze for him and toji to enjoy for some dumb football game.

“honeyyy? you up there?”

you moan, almost feeling your eyelids grow heavy as he’s still holding your head up in front of your laptop—his reflection in the screen just pounding into you at full speed.

already, you’re coating the back of his hand with nothing but your damp saliva—such a dirty girl, preferably his dirty girl.

maybe you were a bit delusional, no. you were very delusional—maybe this could go somewhere? then. again, it was no secret on how toji’s only around to get his dick wet, a reality that you forevermore choose to ignore—until you’d soon find out how that would bite you in the ass later on.

dead silence—you’re just muffling out mewls right into his mouth, and as if on cue, toji ends up finishing inside of you. it’s so much, velvety ropes of hot nut that fill the very insides of your pussy, shooting straight into your womb that your tummy flutters. it’s so much to where it spews out of your hole, he’s gotta poke his thumb in and swipe some out with the way it continues to leak. it’s so dirty, then again—toji fushiguro was a dirty man, the dirtiest.

“are ya gonna reply ‘n let y’er old man know you’re getting off his best friend’s cock or . . ?”

his words, such a tease that he’s still slowly pumping into you. gradually but slow, he plugs into your walls—seeping with cum that oozes out of your folds and you stare at the screen with a cute cock-drunken expression. “mmph,” was your reply, the only reply you could formulate since his big hand almost covered your entire face. so you give him a concise nod, hooded eyes feeling dry from staring at the screen for so many amount of minutes.

eventually, your father leaves and returns back to what he was doing . . . phew.

“that’s right,” he whispers in a low risqué tone, bringing a kiss towards the left part of your neck.

so tender—you’re gathering the strength to sit up but you end up slumping forward. with a pathetic, ‘oof’ you land on your chest, your own climax at the very edge. it’s cute because you end up finishing around the same time—your chest feels heavy, lungs tightly collapsing and all. the perfect way to describe your orgasm was a bomb—a bomb that was ticking and ticking, preparing to detonate before it finally does. instead, the destruction was you squirting, all over toji’s dick that stuffed you full. he’s so close up to your ear, hot breath fanning against your earlobe before he continues to speak. “. . oh, y’er fuckin’ dumb right now, aren’t ya. can barely speak.” and he removes his hand to where a trail of your spit departs. so lewd, you’re spasming from your recent release before with a quick glance—you stare at your monitor. you surpassed your tip goal by a huge milestone, yet like toji said—you were too dumb to even process let alone acknowledge it.

“t—toji,” you whimper, feeling the remnants of his sweet and savory seed pour down the crevices of your thighs. it was sticky, sticking to your skin like glue, sweltering of its entirety.

“come here, princess.”

it surprised you. for once, he was being . . . soft.

you reach backwards, closing your laptop before leaning right into toji. you moan, feeling his beefy ripped arms wrap around you, bringing you right into his embrace. bulky arms go around your waist and he pulls you into a sloppily heated kiss.

simultaneously, your heart skips a few beats—a few, probably an understatement. he tastes sweet, you could make out a brief tang of liquor on his tongue—a taste you didn’t want to ever forget. as your tongue rummages against his, you moan once he gets a bit handsy, a hand going right between your legs to feel the mess he made. the mess you made yourself also.

breathy pants could be heard from your lips as you press your dampish perspiring hands all on his bare chest. he’s wearing a somewhat of a formal shirt — you tug on his collar, yearning for him to come closer, to touch you more, hold you more. something, whatever it was was just brewing up inside of the very depths, the very pits of your stomach.

toji groans, the warmth of his breath wafting against yours before he pulls you away to get a good glimpse of you. a big hand holds your waist, and his eyes peer into you for a long time before as if he hesitates—he kisses the top of your forehead, only to stare away with a scowl.

“. . . toji,” you murmur, and by this point you weren’t speaking with your brain—more so with your heart. it was apparent, especially with the way your droopy hooded eyes suddenly soften the moment you speak out the two syllables in his name.

“let me speak first.” he grouses, a thumb stringing alongside your back, gently strumming against your skin. with the way you gazed at him, making him lie back before aligning yourself, it was clear as day that you wanted more of him. he leans back, long strands of black hair run down his face with his legs sprawled before he prepares to finish.

you straddle him, sitting flat on his lap and he’s so warm—he’s a bit flustered, flaccid from his release and of course a bit sensitive. it’s quite rare to see toji in such a . . . vulnerable state. perhaps you soften him in a few ways or less. at least, that’s what you’d like to think.

it takes him a long time to formulate the words, it’s as if his tongue was tied—weird for him considering it’s toji, he’s always direct and blunt.

and yet for once, you have him speechless.

toji lets off a irritated sigh before while what seems like forever, he mutters out a gruff, “shit. i . . i think ‘m in love with you.”

“ . . . ”

[greengoblinswifey]

White Boy of the Month- Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

warnings: smut, jealous!reader, unprotected sex, oral(f receiving) creampie, praise kink, established relationship, this monstrosity i conjured up.

author’s note: i’ve only ever written smut for characters and not actors so i feel a bit weird about this, hope you guys like it regardless. ps: this is all just fantasy <3

Nicholas was everywhere these days. TikTok’s new “white boy of the month”, and it seemed like everyone had taken notice. You were lying in bed, scrolling through TikTok, watching yet another edit of him. The one that kept popping up on your feed was to "Shake Dat Ah" by Bossman Dlow, and it had blown up. The video cut perfectly between slow-motion shots of him smiling and laughing, looking so effortlessly handsome with that amazing body. You couldn’t help but watch it on repeat.

You were so engrossed in it that you didn’t notice Nicholas walking into the room until he stood by the bed. Your eyes widened as you quickly tried to scroll away from the TikTok, but it was too late. He caught you.

“You’re watching the edits again, aren’t you?” Nicholas chuckled, his lips curving into that playful smirk you knew too well. “Enjoying them?”

Your face warmed, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “I enjoy having you in front of me way more,” you teased, giving him a wink.

He grinned and joined you on the bed, lying beside you. He nestled his head on your chest, his face resting against your tits as he made himself comfortable. You resumed watching the TikTok, this time paying attention to the comments. As expected, they were filled with thirsty women.

“He’s so hot, I can’t take it!” “Nicholas Chavez is my husband now, no one can tell me otherwise.” “I’m gonna need him to come over here and shake dat ah for me.” “Fuck me daddy.” “I need him so fucking bad.”

You rolled your eyes at the flood of heart-eye emojis and wild comments, but couldn’t help feeling a slight twinge of jealousy. Nicholas, sensing your shift in mood, peeked up at you.

“Jealous?” he asked softly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You hesitated, scrolling through another comment about how someone wanted to marry him and have him deflower them. “Maybe just a little,” you admitted, though you couldn’t help but smile down at him. “It’s not like I can’t see why they’re obsessed.”

He reached up, placing a kiss on your collarbone, his eyes never leaving yours. “They can have the edits, but I’m here with you.”

You exhaled softly, letting go of the jealousy. You knew you had him, right there in your arms, and no TikTok comment could take that away. “I guess I can deal with it,” you teased, your fingers brushing through his hair. “As long as you remember who you really belong to.”

He laughed, his breath warm against your skin. “Always.”

The energy between you and Nicholas shifted in an instant. His playful demeanor was gone, replaced by something far more intense. Without a word, he reached up, pulling your tank top down just enough to free your tits. Your breath hitched as his warm hands cupped them, and you tossed your phone to the side, the TikTok edits now a distant thought, though you’d definitely be watching and gushing later. Your fingers found their way into his hair, gripping softly as he kissed down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

When he reached the waistband of your panties, his lips pressed firmly against your clothed pussy, making you gasp. Without hesitation, he grabbed the fabric and, with a sharp rip, tore them off with his strong, muscular arms. The rawness of the action sent a jolt of arousal through you, and you felt your body respond immediately.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding. Your eyes met his, and he smirked. “No woman in any comment section will ever feel my tongue on them like you do right now.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you, ravishing your clit with fierce hunger. His tongue moved in circles, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your core. His finger slid inside you, curling in just the right way, making you whimper. When he added a second finger, your body couldn’t take it anymore. Your back arched off the bed as you came hard, cumming all over his mouth and fingers, your moans filling the room.

Nicholas didn’t stop, his lips and fingers continuing to work you through the orgasm, his eyes locked on your face. “So pretty,” he murmured between licks, “Your pussy looks so pretty. You look so pretty when you cum.”

Your chest heaved as you came down from your high, your mind hazy with pleasure. His words sent another flush of heat through you as he pulled back slightly, his lips glistening. “I’m all yours,” he whispered, his fingers still inside you, moving slowly. “And you’re all mine.”

“I’m yours Nicholas,” you whimpered and he smiled.

He pulled off his boxers, his big, thick cock springing free, standing hard and ready. The tip was a bright, flushed pink, curving just slightly, making your breath hitch in anticipation. He settled between your legs, teasing your clit with the head of his cock, rubbing it slowly, sending shivers through your entire body. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel him inside you.

He positioned himself at your entrance, and slowly, so slowly, began to push in. His cock stretched you inch by inch, your tight pussy gripping him as he filled you. He let out a deep hiss as he sank deeper, his body trembling from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice strained with restraint.

You clung to his arms, gasping, “You’re so big,” the words barely a whisper as he continued pushing inside, his thick length stretching you to the limit. When he was fully inside, he paused, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily before he started to move, pounding into you in deep, steady strokes.

“You’re my beautiful girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire as he thrusted into you. “And I’m yours. Forever. No one’s ever gonna take me away from you.”

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, your clit rubbing against his hard, muscular body as he drove into you. His pace quickened, and you looked up at him, heart racing at the sight. His disheveled hair fell into his half-lidded, pretty eyes, his lips flushed and parted, groaning your name over and over like a chant, like he was worshiping you.

Your own lips parted in a moan, his name spilling from you like a prayer, like he was your priest, the only one you could ever confess to. The pleasure built inside you with every thrust, his body, his touch, his words claiming you completely. He wasn’t just fucking you, he was worshiping you, and in that moment, you were lost to him, praying with every moan, every cry of his name.

Nicholas could feel how close you were, your breath quickened, your moans growing louder, and your pussy gripped him like a vice. His eyes darkened with desire as he watched the way your body reacted to his every thrust. His cock throbbed inside you, and with a low, husky voice, he rasped, “You’re so beautiful, baby. You’ll look even more beautiful cumming on my cock while I’m fucking you like this.”

His words ignited the fire inside you, pushing you past the brink. With a sharp cry, your orgasm crashed through you, and your body trembled uncontrollably. Your pussy tightened around him, squeezing him as you came hard, your walls pulsating and clenching around his thick cock. He groaned deeply, feeling every spasm as you drenched him, but he didn’t let up. He kept thrusting, his pace relentless, pushing you through the waves of pleasure, letting you ride it out fully.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he growled through clenched teeth, still lost in the tightness of your body. His hands gripped your hips tightly, feeling your warmth and the way your pussy gripped him like you never wanted to let go. He thrusted in harder, determined to give you more, to show you just how much you drove him crazy.

His own release was building fast, but he held back just long enough to murmur against your ear, “It’s my turn now. And you know what I want.”

Without hesitation, you arched your back for him, pressing your ass high in the air, presenting yourself to him as he moved behind you. Nicholas positioned himself between your legs, guiding his cock back inside you with one swift, hard thrust. You moaned at the feeling of being filled up again, his cock stretching you as he pounded into you from behind.

His grip tightened around your waist, and each thrust was more powerful than the last. His hands occasionally left your hips to deliver firm slaps to your ass, the sound of his hands meeting your skin echoing in the room. “God, look at you,” he growled, his voice low and thick with lust. “So fucking sexy. And this ass, so fucking perfect.”

You glanced back at him, your half-lidded eyes catching sight of his toned, muscular body—his abs flexing with every thrust, his biceps bulging as he held you in place. His messy hair framed his chiseled face, and the raw look of pleasure etched into his expression was enough to make you moan his name all over again, lost in the sight of him.

The pleasure built quickly inside you once more, your pussy gripping his cock tighter, squeezing him as another wave of pleasure started to overtake you. Nicholas could feel it too, his cock throbbing inside of you as he growled low in his throat. “I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained. “I’m close, baby.”

You were desperate, your voice needy as you begged, “Please, Nick, cum inside me. I want it. Fill me up.”

He hesitated, smirking as he slowed his pace for just a moment. “I can’t hear you,” he teased. “You’re gonna have to say that louder, baby.”

Your desperation heightened, and you practically screamed it this time. “Cum inside me, Nick! I need it! Please!”

With a deep, guttural groan, he slammed into you one final time, holding you close as his cock pulsed inside you, releasing thick, hot spurts of cum deep within you. He moaned your name as he came, his hands gripping your hips tightly, pressing you against him as he filled you up. He didn’t pull out right away, instead, he relished the feeling of being inside you, his cock still throbbing, every muscle in his body tense as he savored the moment.

Before you could catch your breath, he swiftly flipped you over, pulling you on top of him. His cock was still buried deep inside your pussy as he shifted the position, thrusting up into you gently now, making sure you squeezed every last drop of his cum out. You whimpered softly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your pussy gripping him as he guided your hips slowly.

Nicholas gazed up at you, his hands tender now, caressing your waist as he whispered between kisses. “My baby. You’re so fucking beautiful. I love you so much.”

You leaned down to kiss him softly, your heart swelling at his words. “I love you too,” you murmured, your voice tired but full of affection.

Nicholas kissed your forehead and whispered against your skin, “I’m so happy my career’s taking off, and no matter what, you’ll always be by my side, and I’ll take care of you every step of the way. You deserve the world.”

You smiled softly, resting your head on his chest as he moved to get up. “Wait,” you said, stopping him. “Don’t go. I just want to stay like this, with you inside me, and I wanna listen your heartbeat.”

He grinned, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close again. “Okay, baby. Whatever you want.” He kissed the top of your head and settled back, letting you rest against his chest, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear as you both drifted off into a peaceful, satisfied slumber, completely wrapped in each other.

[daeniradraconis]

Faceoff with Love - Jack Hughes

Summary: Jack Hughes. The NHL’s ultimate manwhore. King of confidence. Untouchable… or at least, that’s what he thought. Until he falls hard.

Warning: Implied sexual situations, mature language, nothing too wild or serious

Hey, lovelies! 💕 This is Jack's story, the next installment in what I’ve officially named The Hughes Effect Saga—because let’s be real, every brother deserves their own story. I couldn’t resist giving the main characters names since this universe is growing, and honestly, trying to write it without them would’ve been mission impossible. So, just a heads-up: Thea is Luke’s love interest! (Though if you’ve read Age Is Just a Number…Right?, you won’t see her mentioned there, since that one started as a standalone one-shot.) You can read this without reading Age Is Just a Number, but it definitely gives you more background on Jack's story if you do!

Not gonna lie, this one took forever to write. It ended up being 16,472 words and 42 pages in my Word doc—so, yeah… buckle up! 😅

Hope you love reading it as much as I loved writing it! ❤️

For more fun: masterlist

—-

Jack Hughes, star of the New Jersey Devils, was enjoying a normal morning—until the noises coming from his little brother Luke’s room hijacked his thoughts. Jack had always been supportive of Luke, and he was genuinely happy for him. After all, Luke and his girlfriend had been through a lot—the pressures of the NHL, the relentless fans, and everything in between had made starting their relationship anything but easy. He knew how much effort they both put in to make it work, and he couldn’t help but admire them for it.

But the sounds from the next room? That was a different story. Jack tried to block it out, but it was impossible. The muffled conversations—and those other noises—had a way of seeping into his mind. It wasn’t just the invasion of privacy that bothered him, though. It was what he’d learned that really threw him off: Luke’s kink.

Some things were best left unsaid, behind closed doors. But there was Luke, sounding way too eager to ask permission for... well, things Jack had no business hearing. It was burned into his brain, and he couldn’t unhear it.

“Yeah, no. Nope. That’s it. I need to get out of here,” Jack muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

With a groan, he kicked off the covers, grabbed a hoodie from the back of the couch, and yanked it over his head. “I need bleach. For my ears. And my soul.”

A coffee shop seemed like the safest escape—loud espresso machines, the comforting scent of fresh beans… anything to erase whatever the hell he’d just overheard.

As he stepped outside, he let out a deep breath, shaking off the lingering ick of the morning. He had morning skates later anyway, so at least this way, he’d be caffeinated and mentally prepared before hitting the ice.

By the time Jack reached the coffee shop, the tension in his shoulders had finally eased, the crisp morning air doing its job in clearing his head. As he pushed open the door, the familiar chime jingled, welcoming him into the warm, cozy space. It wasn’t crowded—just a handful of people tapping away at laptops, a few others lost in their books, the low hum of conversation filling the air.

Jack stepped into line, a slow grin tugging at his lips as he took in the room. He could feel it—the shift in energy, the way conversations quieted just slightly, the not-so-subtle glances thrown his way. He walked in like he owned the place. And in a way, he kind of did. Not literally, of course, but the moment he stepped inside, it was obvious—people noticed.

A couple of girls in the corner glanced up, whispering behind their hands. The old man at the corner table did a double take. A guy in line nudged his friend, a knowing smirk passing between them. Jack thrived on it. The attention, the recognition—it was something he was used to, and he had no problem leaning into it.

His gaze swept over the room, naturally lingering on the women who were stealing glances at him. A cocky smirk curled at the corner of his lips, and just for fun, he threw in a wink. A playful smile for good measure. Yeah, he knew the effect he had. Confidence? Absolutely. Arrogance? Maybe just a little. But it was the kind of charm that turned heads, and really, who could blame him? Jack Hughes wasn’t just another guy in the crowd—he was the one people noticed.

And he loved every second of it.

Jack was used to this. It was familiar. Easy. But then—he saw her.

She wasn’t looking at him. She wasn’t whispering about him, or sneaking glances, or batting her lashes like so many others did. She was behind the counter, focused on her work, crafting drinks with effortless precision, her movements fluid and practiced. There was something about her—a quiet warmth, a presence that made the entire room feel at ease. She wasn’t just beautiful; it was the way she carried herself. Feminine yet self-assured, graceful but never trying too hard.

Jack felt it immediately—the pull. Like gravity.

His heart did this stupid little stutter, and before he even realized it, he was just standing there. Staring. What the hell?

This wasn’t him. Jack Hughes didn’t freeze up over a girl. He’d had flings, fun, no-strings-attached moments. He knew how to flirt, how to charm, how to walk away before things got complicated. But right now? None of that seemed to matter.

Get it together, Hughes, he muttered under his breath, forcing himself to look away.

But then, as if she’d felt his gaze, she looked up. Their eyes met.

And in that instant, something shifted.

It was subtle. Electric. She had this knowing look on her face, like she could see right through him. Like she already had him figured out before he could even open his mouth.

And for the first time in a long time, Jack Hughes wasn’t the one in control.

Jack leaned on the counter, trying to play it cool, but he couldn’t shake the pull he felt toward her. When she finally looked up, their eyes met, and for a second, the usual confidence he wore like a second skin seemed to fade.

She raised an eyebrow as she set her hands on the counter, a half-smirk forming on her lips. "Can I help you?"

Jack blinked, catching himself. "Uh, that depends. You serving coffee... or are you in the business of making guys fall in love too?" he said with a grin, though it came out a little less smooth than he intended.

She didn’t even flinch. "Just coffee. And bad pickup lines? They cost extra."

Jack chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ouch. Brutal." He leaned in, dropping the cocky act just a little. "Alright, alright. I’ll take a latte. And a blueberry muffin. Gotta keep it classic, you know?"

"Classic? More like predictable," she replied, tossing a glance over her shoulder as she started on his drink.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You analyzing me now?"

She didn’t even look at him as she spoke. "Not really. Just guessing you’re the type who thinks a smirk and a couple of cheesy lines will get you anything you want."

Jack froze for a moment, a little taken aback. "Whoa, right in the heart," he said, putting his hand over his chest in mock offense.

She didn’t even look at him this time. "You’ll survive. Might even build some character," she added casually as she reached for the milk steamer.

Jack smirked, his confidence flickering back. "Character, huh? I’ve got plenty. Some might even say too much."

She glanced up then, eyes dancing with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "Yeah? And who exactly are these 'some'?"

He leaned in a little closer, almost leaning on the counter now. "Oh, you know... fans, teammates, my mom... definitely my mom." He winked.

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head, her fingers expertly crafting the latte. "Uh-huh. Sure, sounds legit."

Jack leaned back a bit, watching her. There was something about how she didn’t let him off the hook. It was... refreshing. "So what’s it gonna take?" he asked, trying to play it cool again.

"For what?" She finally met his gaze, eyebrows raised.

"For you to admit you’re already a little bit in love with me," he said with a teasing grin, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She slid his drink across the counter without a hint of hesitation. "Jack Hughes, right?"

His grin widened. "So you do know me."

"Oh, I know of you," she said, turning away to grab a napkin, clearly unfazed. "You’re a good player."

Jack straightened up, puffing out his chest. "Great player," he corrected her, but his tone was light, playful.

She looked over her shoulder, deadpan. "On the ice."

Jack laughed softly, the sting of her words taking a second to hit. "Damn, alright. Tough crowd."

She smiled, but it wasn’t the soft, flirty smile he expected. It was knowing. Like she already saw right through him. "Seen your type before. You walk in, flash a smile, throw out a line or two, and think the world’s just gonna roll over for you."

Jack leaned in again, his grin slipping into something more genuine. "And yet, here you are... still talking to me. Guess you must like it."

She hummed, considering this, before turning back to the machine. "Or maybe I just like watching a guy slowly realize he’s not as smooth as he thinks he is."

Jack’s smirk returned, and he picked up his drink. "So this is how it’s gonna be, huh?"

She winked, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Oh, Hughes. You have no idea."

He laughed, shaking his head as he grabbed his muffin. "I’ve got to run. Practice later... but I’ll be back. You’re an interesting one." He winked, letting the last word linger a little longer than usual.

“Do not threaten me, Hughes,” she shot back, her voice dry but that little smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Jack turned to leave, his mind still buzzing from their conversation. He could feel her eyes on his back as he walked out the door, but this time, it wasn’t the usual adrenaline of a win. It was something else.

Maybe... just maybe, she was right. He was used to being in control, but with her? Yeah, she wasn’t having any of it.

—

The ice cream shop had a laid-back atmosphere, with a few customers scattered across the tables, quietly enjoying their frozen treats. The soft hum of conversation blended with the occasional clink of spoons against bowls and the low buzz of the freezer in the corner. The casual, easygoing vibe was the perfect backdrop for Jack to make his usual, attention-grabbing announcement.

“So, I met a girl,” he said casually, his grin practically glowing with satisfaction.

Luke didn’t even look up, already bracing himself for whatever absurdity was coming. Jack had that look—an announcement, followed by something outlandish. Thea, however, shot him a pointed glance, arching a brow in that skeptical way she did so well.

“Oh, here we go,” she muttered, barely containing her amusement.

Jack scoffed. “Wow, way to be supportive.”

Thea smirked, scooping a spoonful of chocolate ice cream into her mouth. “No, it’s just... every time you drop that line, I know I’m about to hear some delusional story about how she’s already swooning over you.” She shrugged with a grin. “Which, let’s be honest, is usually true. Flash that smile, and bam! Girls are basically tripping over themselves for you.”

Jack leaned back, clearly relishing the attention. “Exactly. It’s a gift.”

Thea rolled her eyes and casually tossed her hair over her shoulder. “No, it’s just an ego boost. You’re like a baby with a bottle—constantly sucking up the attention.”

Jack, looking entirely unbothered, twirled his spoon. “Can you blame me? I mean, why not appreciate what I’ve got?”

Luke looked up now, giving Jack a resigned look. He was ready for the same tired routine. “Jack, have you ever thought that maybe—just maybe—not every girl is going to fall for your whole act?”

Jack shot him a glance like he’d just suggested the most absurd thing. “Why would I think that? It’s never happened.” He paused, then added with a touch of uncertainty, “Okay, she’s a tough one, but she’ll come around. I think she just likes to play hard to get.” He could see the truth in her eyes—she wasn’t interested—but admitting that wasn’t an option. Not with his brother and Thea around.

Thea snorted, clearly amused. “Oh, the delusion’s strong with this one.”

Jack leaned forward slightly, tapping his fingers on the table with a confident smirk. “I’m not delusional, I’m just a realist. And the reality is... I’m me.” He paused for effect. “And I don’t lose.”

Thea let out a dramatic laugh, clearly enjoying herself. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Jack frowned, confused. “What’s so funny?”

Thea took another bite of her cone, her grin widening. “You. Thinking you’re untouchable. I love the confidence, but one day, some girl’s going to make you look like a fool.”

Jack scoffed, shaking his head. “Please. Do you have any idea how many girls would kill for a shot with me? I could walk out of here and just point at someone, and they'd be all over me.”

Luke, who had been watching the exchange unfold, finally spoke up. “Yeah, except for this one. I’m guessing she’s got a little more sense than that.”

Jack groaned, dramatically rubbing his face with his hand and shooting Luke an exasperated "you little shit" look. “Oh, come on. You make it sound like I don’t have options. I’m Jack Hughes guys—the same guy who got a date with three different girls at last week’s game.”

Thea rolled her eyes again. “Oh yeah, that’s really a sign of emotional maturity.” She shot Luke a knowing look.

Luke just smiled faintly, shaking his head. “If Jack’s ego ever took a hit, we'd probably need a whole therapy session.”

Jack flashed a smug grin, fully aware they were kind of right. “Ego? What ego? I’m just stating the facts.”

Thea leaned in, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sure. State your facts. But you’re missing one thing, Jack.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what’s that?”

She tilted her head, clearly loving the moment. “This girl doesn’t want you.”

Jack’s smile faltered just a touch, but he quickly recovered. “Everybody wants me.”

Thea shook her head, the smirk never leaving her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jack jumped in before she could.

“Okay, maybe except you!” He threw his hands up in mock frustration. “But that’s not my charm’s fault. You just have a thing for younger guys, so I never stood a chance. You pedo…”

Thea’s cheeks flushed, and she slapped his arm lightly, her voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. “Jack, you can’t call me that, you arrogant prick! Show some respect to your elders!”

Jack smirked, unfazed. “Oh, yes, yes… sorry, Ms. Senior Citizen.”

Luke chuckled softly, shaking his head. He couldn’t help but be impressed with how Thea had grown into herself. At first, their six-year age gap had made her uneasy, but Jack, being Jack, never passed up a chance to remind her of it. Luke knew Jack played this game on purpose—his teasing made Thea realize the age gap wasn’t as big of a deal as she’d thought. And over time, she’d become more confident, even starting to enjoy Jack’s dark humor. Of course, she’d never admit it, and Luke was thankful for that. Jack didn’t need any more ego boosts.

“This is going to be a disaster,” Luke muttered under his breath, as if preparing himself for the inevitable chaos. It wasn’t a prediction—it was a certainty. Jack wasn’t going to let this girl slip away, he new that.

Jack waved him off, though his signature, idiotic grin only grew wider. “Relax, Lukey. I’m unstoppable. She’s going to like me. Trust me.”

Luke sighed, leaning back in his chair, his fingers pressing against his temples as he massaged his forehead. “Ohhh, this is going to be such a disaster.”

Jack finished off his ice cream, still blissfully unaware of the train wreck he was about to walk into. “You two are the worst. But mark my words, she’s going to like me.”

Thea winked at him. “No, we’re just not here to feed your delusion, Jacky. You could use a reality check every once in a while.”

Jack rolled his eyes, the mischievous grin still tugging at his lips. “You know what, Lukey? Maybe you should upgrade her to someone a little younger…”

“JACK!” Luke and Thea shouted in unison, but Jack only laughed, clearly finding his own joke far too hilarious.

— 

Jack pushed open the door to the coffee shop, the familiar chime of the bell ringing through the night air, but tonight, it sounded more hollow than usual.

It was late—too late—the kind of late when the world seems to shrink into itself, wrapped in the silence of the night. The air carried the warm scent of coffee and sweet pastries, but Jack barely noticed. His mind was still spinning from the game. The Devils had lost, and his mood mirrored the dark sky outside—heavy, empty, and far too cold. Yet, despite the bitterness of defeat lingering in his chest, there was something else that kept nagging at him.

He wanted to see her.

The girl behind the counter.

It was absurd, he knew. He didn’t even know her name. But ever since the game ended—ever since he’d sat in the locker room, listening to Nico’s half-hearted attempts at positivity—his thoughts kept drifting back to her. Why? It didn’t make sense.

He glanced around, expecting the usual warmth and buzz of conversation that made the place feel so cozy. But tonight was different.

The lights were dim, and the usual chatter had faded—most likely because it was just two minutes to closing, and the last of the customers had trickled out.

Jack’s eyes immediately found her behind the counter. The girl from before.

The moment she saw him, her expression shifted, just slightly—a brief flicker of annoyance before her face went completely neutral. He could tell she wasn’t exactly thrilled to see him, especially not this late.

Jack leaned against the counter, flashing his trademark easy smile. “Hey there.”

She looked up, the briefest flicker of recognition crossing her face before it disappeared. She sighed quietly, clearly not in the mood. "You again," she muttered under her breath, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "What do you want this time?"

Jack grinned, undeterred by her tone. “Actually, I realized I never got your name last time.”

She blinked, taken aback. “Seriously? You came all the way back just for my name?” She paused, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I must be pretty special, huh?”

Jack shrugged like it was no big deal. “Guess I was too busy trying to charm you last time. But hey, I did promise I’d come back.” He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering. “So now that I’m here… what’s your name?”

She rolled her eyes but grabbed some fresh milk from under the counter. “It’s Anja,” she said flatly.

Jack raised an eyebrow, as if savoring the name. “Anja, huh? Definitely sounds foreign.”

Anja shot him a dry look, hands almost slamming the milk into the fridge. “Yep. My dad’s German, my mom’s from New Jersey. Pretty exotic, right?”

Jack’s grin faltered for a moment, surprised. “Wait—your dad’s from Germany? That’s… interesting.” He paused, then added with a laugh. “That’s one combo I didn’t expect. My buddy Nico’s German too. He was born in Switzerland.”

Anja froze, staring at him. Then blinked slowly. “Wait—what?”

Jack, clearly proud of his random connection, rushed on, oblivious to her confusion. “Yeah, Nico’s our captain, super chill guy. Always telling me I should visit him in Switzerland one summer. We haven’t done it yet, but maybe next year. He’s like a brother to me, honestly. Don’t tell my real brothers, though—they’d flip. They get jealous if I even mention Nico.”

Anja raised an eyebrow, already knowing Jack had a habit of overestimating the significance of himself. She stared at him for a moment, then couldn’t help it—she burst into laughter. “No, Jack… Switzerland’s not in Germany!” She bent forward slightly, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

Jack blinked, feeling a little foolish, but he wasn’t about to back down. “What? It’s a county in Germany, right? Somewhere near... uh, Munich…?”

Anja’s eyes widened, her expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. She let out a laugh, half-pitying, half-astonished. “Oh my God, Hughes. Switzerland and Germany are two completely different countries.” She shook her head slowly, as if he’d just told her the Earth was flat. “You’re telling me your best friend’s from Switzerland, and you have no idea where the hell is that? Seriously, could you be more American?”

Jack winced, but a grin quickly crept back onto his face, clearly unbothered by his own ignorance. “Hey, don’t forget, you’re half American too, so no need to get all high and mighty on me.”

Anja raised an eyebrow, her grin widening as she crossed her arms.“Sweetie, you’re the one who thought Switzerland was a county.”

Jack shrugged with a playful grin, raising his hands in mock surrender, his smile never faltering. “Alright, fine. But I’ll take this as a win. I’ve officially upgraded to the ‘sweetie’ category.”

Anja shook her head, still chuckling at his relentless self-confidence. “A lost cause, Hughes. That’s what you are… a lost cause.” She gave him an exasperated look, but the corner of her mouth quirked up. “Maybe try opening some books next time. Girls like guys with an actual brain.”

Jack waved it off dismissively. “I’ll let you know I do read. But yeh my brother Quinn is the nerd. Seriously bookish. Let me tell you, it’s not helping him. He’s got zero game.”

Anja flashed a playful grin and leaned in closer, the sudden proximity making Jack’s heart skip a beat. Her perfume—a fresh, orange scent that reminded him of a rain-drenched forest—hit him like a bolt of lightning. It was warm, feminine, and intoxicating. He couldn’t help but notice the way the scent seemed to pull him closer, but he did his best to keep it together.

She lowered her voice just enough to make him focus. “Or maybe... he’s just a normal guy who doesn’t want every woman’s panties to drop the second he meets them.”

Jack swallowed, his eyes flicking to her mouth, noticing the way her lips parted just slightly as she spoke. He tried to focus, but the air between them was thick with tension, the heat of her so close to him throwing him off. “Or maybe…” He leaned in, his voice dropping low, his words teasing as his gaze lingered on her lips. “He just overthinks everything. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow in life, you know?”

Anja shook her head with a soft smile, muttering under her breath as she crossed her arms. “As I said, lost cause,” she added, only half-amused, half-exasperated.

Jack laughed, relieved she was still in the game. He gave her a wink, the confidence in his smile almost irresistible. “But a charming, good-looking, lost cause, right?”

Anja rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips and the amusement in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t really bothered. Her eyes briefly caught his, and for the first time, she noticed how his blue eyes weren’t just any shade—they had this grayish undertone that made them look almost stormy. It was enough to make her pause for a moment, but she snapped back to the banter with a playful glint. “You really should’ve opened a geography book sometime. You can’t disrespect your friend this much. At least learn the basics about the poor guy’s life if you want to be his bestie.”

Jack’s grin widened as he leaned in, his light brown wavy hair falling slightly into his eyes, his expression a mix of challenge and charm. “Hey—I’d happily let you teach me about Switzerland... or anything else. To be fair, I’d let you do anything with me.”

Anja let out a breathless laugh at his boldness, shaking her head, but her eyes softened as she met his gaze. “Yeah, keep dreaming, Jack.”

Jack winked. “Believe me I will. But seriously—just give me a chance. Let me prove myself to you.” Anja rolled her eyes again, but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. “Whatever, Jack. You can beg, but the answer is still no.”

Jack didn’t hesitate. The thought struck him like a bolt of lightning, and before he could second-guess himself, he dropped to his knees with all the dramatic flair he could muster, looking up at her with wide, pleading eyes.

Anja froze, her eyes wide, the mug she’d been about to place on the shelf still dangling in mid-air. “What the hell are you doing?!” she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and something else—amusement, maybe. It was hard to tell.

Jack tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes, still kneeling with a grin that stretched wider. “You said I can beg, but I wasn’t really begging yet, was I? Let me show you just how good I can be at it.” He fluttered his lashes and gave her the full-on puppy-dog eyes, cranking up the charm.

Anja stared at him for a solid minute, her brain clearly processing the absurdity of the situation. Then, as if a switch had flipped, she burst out laughing. “You’re insane,” she said, shaking her head, stepping back like she needed to regain some personal space from this level of ridiculousness.

Jack, still on his knees, leaned in a bit closer with dramatic theatrics, his grin widening. He clasped his hands together like he was about to give a TED talk.

"Anja, hear me out," he began, voice dripping with over-the-top sincerity. "I know you think I’m a lost cause, but I’m not just any lost cause. I’m your lost cause. And let me tell you why."

He paused for effect, then continued, ticking off his points like a lawyer making a case. "First off, I’m a party. You want a good time? I’m your guy. I can keep things fun, always ready for an adventure, never a dull moment."

He held up a finger, ready to deliver his second point. "Next, I’m a manwhore. And I know what you’re thinking—‘Jack, that sounds bad!’ But no, hear me out. Being a manwhore means experience. I know how to make people laugh, I know how to charm, I know how to—" He shot her a wink. "Well, I know how to do a lot of things. So... experience? Check."

Jack then leaned back dramatically, spreading his arms out. "And, let’s not forget, I’m a hockey player. I’m rich, athletic, and—" he gave her a sly grin, flexing his arm slightly, "look at these muscles. I’ve got the athletic build, which means a lot of energy to spare. And when I’m not working out, I’m probably... in the kitchen making all the mistakes with cooking. And that’s actually a good thing! Because you—" he pointed at her, "You can be the queen of the kitchen, living out your baking dreams while I try not to set the stove on fire. My kitchen? Practically untouched, new condition. You can take over anytime."

Anja rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t ready for what came next. Jack, still grinning, suddenly pulled his shirt up slightly to expose a well-defined set of abs. His muscles flexed with a little extra dramatic flair. "See this?" He flexed again, holding the pose for a moment. "Hard work, dedication... and honestly, a whole lot of charm. You can’t argue with that, right?"

Anja froze, her eyes wide with disbelief. She stood there for a moment, trying to process what she was seeing, before rushing to Jack. Kneeling beside him, she reached for his shirt, fingers scrambling to grab the fabric. She shot him a look of shock. “Oh my God, Jack, put it down! This is insane.” She yanked at his shirt, but Jack grabbed her wrist. His grip was unshakable, and he used his position on the ground to keep her from pulling away.

He moved closer, a glint of mischief in his eyes, clearly enjoying every moment of his act. “I’m just proving a point. I’m the full package, Anja—athletic, a manwhore, experienced, and a terrible cook. The perfect guy to have fun!”

Anja gave him a look that was half disbelief, half amusement—as if saying, "Even you don’t believe this." She tried to pull her hand away, but Jack kept his grip tight, holding her wrist steady as his grin grew wider.

Jack shrugged, unfazed by the situation. “Alright, alright, maybe my geography’s a little off. But here’s the deal: You get to be the smart one with all the answers, and I’ll just nod and smile while you school me. It’ll be your show—I’m basically signing up to be your personal cheerleader. You’re the brains, I’ll be the brawn. Need a little backup? I’m your guy.”

Anja shot him a pointed, exasperated look, surprised but slightly amused as he kept his hold on her wrist. “So, Anja, what do you think? I’m the full package—fun, rich, athletic, kind, supportive, and amazing. What more could you possibly want?”

Despite herself, Anja laughed, though she fought to hold her composure. “This is the worst pitch I’ve ever heard in my life, Jack. Seriously, put your shirt down already.”

But Jack didn’t move an inch. "You know you want to. I’m practically giving you the world here. I can be your support, your personal cheerleader. You’ll be the brains of the relationship, and I’ll—"

"—Be the ‘muscles,’ right?" Anja interrupted, raising an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk.

"Exactly! I'll be your biggest fan, always backing you up. And hey, I’m probably the best at making people laugh too.”

Anja couldn’t help but stare at him—this insufferably stubborn, over-the-top guy—and, much to her own surprise, found herself laughing again. “Hughes, you’re a complete idiot. But fine,” she sighed, shaking her head, “I’ll give it to you—you’ve got muscles... and, I guess that counts for something?”

Jack shot her a wink. “Oh, it counts for everything, Anja. Everything. So, what do you say? One coffee, no weirdness?”

Anja hesitated, still gripping his shirt, then let out a long sigh. "Fine. One coffee. But just so we're clear, Hughes—this is strictly a friend thing. No boyfriend talk. I’m not looking for anything, and I definitely can’t handle you as my boyfriend.”

Jack released her wrist, smoothing out his shirt, his grin still in place but with a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Deal. I’ll settle for the friend date. A desperate man takes what he can get.”

Anja rolled her eyes, half amused. "Just... no flexing, alright?"

Jack chuckled, giving her a mock salute. “Alright, alright—I'll behave.”

– 

And Jack wasn't lying, about him being on his good behaviour.

He pulled up in his sleek car just as Anja finished her shift a couple days later. The neon lights of the coffee shop flickering behind her. She stepped out into the crisp evening air, shaking off the exhaustion of her shift, her apron swapped for a simple jacket. Jack leaned over from the driver’s seat, his grin wide, like a cat who’d just caught its prey.

“Ready for our coffee date, Anja?”

Anja rolled her eyes dramatically as she slid into the car, amusement flickering across her face.“It’s a friend date, Jack,” she corrected, her voice dripping with mock annoyance. “And what’s the plan? Where are we going?”

Jack’s grin widened. “Well, about that…” He gestured toward the empty streets. “It’s a bit late, and all the normal coffee shops are closed. But don’t worry, I’ve got a backup plan.”

Anja raised an eyebrow.”Yeh that's what I’m afraid of.”

“No, no. You’ll love this. Trust me.”Jack chuckled. 

A few minutes later, they pulled up to an old, charming bookstore that looked like it belonged in another era—warm light spilling from its windows, a glowing sign that read Open 24 Hours. It had the kind of inviting presence that made you want to step inside and stay awhile.

Jack parked and motioned for Anja to follow him in.

“This is… a bookstore?” she asked, her tone laced with skepticism but also curiosity. As she stepped through the door, the scent of old pages and freshly brewed coffee wrapped around her like a comforting embrace.

“Not just any bookstore,” he said, his tone teasing. “It’s got a coffee shop inside. And pastries. Perfect place for a late-night coffee date, if you ask me.” Jack flashed a smirk, leading her toward the back. “And you thought I’ve never read a book in my entire life—guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”

Anja smiled sweetly, shaking her head as she followed him. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Not ridiculous. Creative,” Jack corrected with a grin. 

Inside, a barista was still serving warm drinks to a couple of late-night readers, the soft hum of conversation blending seamlessly with the crackling of an old record playing in the background. Cozy armchairs and beanbags were scattered throughout the room, creating an intimate, almost dreamlike atmosphere.

Anja glanced around, taking it all in. The soft lighting, the inviting scent of coffee and something sweet—chocolate, maybe—it all made the space feel like a quiet little world of its own. A place where time didn’t feel so urgent. “Okay… I’ll admit, this is actually kind of nice. Cozy, even.”

Jack flopped onto a nearby beanbag, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “See? You can’t always judge a book by its cover.”

Anja groaned. “You’ve been in prime form tonight, haven’t you?”

“Hey, I’ve got plenty more where that came from,” he shot back, flashing her another confident smile.

He studied her for a moment before speaking again, his tone softer. “What if we swap coffee for hot chocolate instead?” His playful edge had slipped away a little. “Figured something warm and sweet might be better this late.”

Anja raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden thoughtfulness. “Hmm, actually, that sounds really good. It is too late for coffee, and I could use a decent night’s sleep for once.”

Jack’s smile deepened, satisfied with her answer. “Good choice,” he said with a wink before heading to the counter.

When he came back, he wasn’t just carrying hot chocolate. Along with the two steaming mugs, he had a plate of warm pastries, their flaky layers golden and crisp. He set everything on the small coffee table between their beanbags, the sweet smell of cocoa and butter filling the air. Something about the simple gesture—just them, the warmth, the food—made the moment feel unexpectedly intimate.

Anja dropped her coat to the floor and sank into her beanbag, letting out a soft sigh as she got comfortable. Everything about this night felt softer, easier than she’d expected.

“I really wasn’t expecting this… but it’s nice.” She reached for her mug, glancing at him. “Just don’t let the compliment go to your head.”

Jack smirked as he leaned back, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “No promises.” He picked up a pastry and held it out to her. "I figured you'd appreciate a little something sweet to go with the moment."

Anja hesitated for only a second before taking the pastry. As she bit into it, the warm layers melted on her tongue, and she let out an involuntary hum of satisfaction.

“Okay,” she admitted, taking another bite. “You’re definitely not wrong about this.”

Jack watched her, the sound of her hum catching him off guard, a hint of something shifting in his chest.

As they sipped their hot chocolate the café around them felt like its own little world—soft lighting, the distant murmur of pages turning, the quiet clinking of mugs against saucers.

Anja curled deeper into her beanbag, fingers wrapped around her mug, letting its warmth seep into her hands. Jack stretched out in his seat, looking just as content, his usual energy softened.

When they finished, Jack set his mug down with a satisfied sigh and shot Anja a look. Then, without warning, he reached for her hand and pulled her up.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Anja blinked. “Go where?”

He gestured toward the shelves. “You can’t just sit in a bookstore café and not browse. That’s practically a crime.”

She huffed a laugh but let him lead her toward the towering bookshelves. As they wandered through the aisles, Anja ran her fingers over worn spines, occasionally picking up a book to flip through. Jack did the same, moving ahead of her, plucking books off the shelves without much thought.

At first, she didn’t pay much attention to his choices—until she caught a glimpse of the titles in his hands. The Odyssey. Moby Dick. War and Peace.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, staring at him like he’d just grown a second head. “War and Peace? Really?”

Jack raised an eyebrow, totally unbothered. “What? I’ve got layers, Anja. I like to read, too. Not geography books, as you already know, but serious stuff. Might surprise you.”

Anja let out a laugh, shaking her head. “You? The manwhore of the hockey world? Reading Tolstoy? I thought you were too busy with girls and hockey to have time for this kind of thing.”

Jack smirked, holding up the book like it was a trophy. “Ha ha, really funny.” He shot her a look, clearly not offended. “I’ll have you know, girls and hockey are not the only things in my brain.”

Anja scoffed, reaching out to snatch the book from his hands. She flipped it open, skimming a few pages before looking back up at him, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

“You actually read this?” she asked, holding up War and Peace like it was a foreign artifact. “Not just for, like, show?”

Jack placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Wow. Zero faith in me.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, flipping through the pages. “Alright, prove it. Who’s your favorite character?”

Without missing a beat, Jack smirked. “Andrei Bolkonsky.”

Anja froze for a second, looking up from the pages, clearly thrown. “Wait, really? You’re an Andrei guy?”

Jack nodded, his expression dead serious. “What? You thought I’d say Pierre?”

“YES,” she said immediately. “Pierre’s the obvious choice. He’s way more... interesting.”

“Interesting? Pierre’s a hot mess for like, 90% of the book. The guy spends half his time getting lost, getting into trouble, and overthinking everything.”

Anja shot him a teasing glance. “Exactly. That’s what makes him interesting! He’s awkward, searching for meaning... vulnerable.”

Jack laughed, leaning closer to her. “Vulnerable? Or just indecisive? The guy can’t make a choice without spiraling.”

“That’s the whole point. He’s human. Complex.” She poked Jack’s chest with a finger, her eyes gleaming with passion as she leaned in just slightly, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth.

Jack moved closer to her, crossing his arms. “I’m sorry, but Pierre’s a disaster. Andrei knows who he is. He’s a leader, a soldier, a guy who gets things done. That’s why I like him.”

“Oh, please,” Anja scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Andrei’s the epitome of a brooding, pretentious sad boy. He spends the entire book sulking, acting like everyone else is beneath him.” She paused, a sly grin spreading across her face as if she’d just had a sudden realization. “Hmm, sounds kind of familiar, actually.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, a wide smile creeping onto his lips. “Are you calling me brooding and pretentious?”

Anja held his gaze for a beat, then shook her head. “Not exactly. But yeah, that sounds like you—at least the pretentious part. You’re not really the brooding type. You’re way too cocky for that. But I can definitely see some Andrei in you.”

Jack chuckled, a small spark flickering in his chest. He couldn’t help but like a woman who had both a strong opinion and a sharp mind. “I’m confident, not pretentious. There’s a difference. Andrei’s got his life together—he knows what he wants, he has standards, and he doesn’t just drift through life hoping things will work out. You can’t say the same about Pierre. That guy spends half the book lost in his own head, making bad decisions, and hoping the universe sorts it out for him. Andrei? He takes charge. If that’s who you’re comparing me to, I’ll take it.”

Anja shook her head, amused. “Not just that. Andrei’s just a ticking time bomb. All that ‘duty’ and ‘honor’... It’s like a mask he hides behind to avoid facing his own mess. You probably like him because, let’s face it, he’s a little bit like you in that sense as well.”

“Me? A mess? I’m hurt.” Jack let out a dramatic gasp.

Anja shrugged, a wicked grin playing on her lips. “Don’t act like it’s not true. You’re just like him. A little too obsessed with being ‘the guy who’s got it all together.’”

Jack smirked, shifting his weight casually as he placed Moby Dick back on the shelf next to them. “Andrei’s confident. I’m confident. So, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Anja raised her eyebrows. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that. But at least Pierre learns. He grows. Andrei? He just spends the whole book whining until—well, spoiler alert, he dies.”

Jack threw his hands up in mock disbelief, eyes wide. “Ouch. Ruthless. The guy goes through war, heartbreak, and personal tragedy, and you just—” He waved his hand dramatically. “Done. No sympathy?”

Anja grinned, flipping the book shut with a decisive motion. “Not my fault Tolstoy made him insufferable. I stand by Pierre.”

Jack looked at her, laughing in disbelief. “I can’t believe you read War and Peace and took Pierre’s side.”

Anja shot him a playful side-eye. “Oh yeah? You read it and picked Andrei. We’re clearly both making questionable decisions here.”

“I guess we can’t buddy-read Tolstoy together, huh?” Jack chuckled, shaking his head.

Anja crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Good. I’d hate to have to explain everything to you.”

“Unbelievable.” Jack let out an exaggerated sigh, while he tucked War and Peace under his arm again, giving her a teasing look. “Alright, book snob. Since you clearly think you know everything, what’s next? Are you going to try to convince me that Anna Karenina’s actions were justified?”

Anja gasped, eyes widening. “Jack. Don’t even start.”

Shaking her head, Anja grabbed a couple of books from the shelf, and Jack did the same. With their newfound selections in hand, they made their way back to their cozy beanbags. They settled in, the quiet rustle of pages filling the space between them.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Jack flipped through War and Peace, skimming familiar passages, while Anja lost herself in a biography of one of her favorite artists. The playful banter from earlier still lingered in her mind, but as she snuck a glance at Jack, something about the way he was fully immersed in his book made her pause.

She watched him for a moment, her smile softening. There was something oddly sincere about him like this—quiet, focused, different from the cocky, fast-talking guy she was so used to.

“Huh,” she murmured, more to herself than anything. “Guess I underestimated you, Jack.”

Jack didn’t look up immediately, but a slow, lazy smirk spread across his face. “It happens,” he said, finally meeting her gaze. “Don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

Anja rolled her eyes, but there was no real bite to it. She turned her attention back to her book, trying to focus. But every now and then, she found herself glancing up—watching as Jack absentmindedly ran a thumb over the edge of the pages, completely absorbed in his book.

Anja took a deep breath, smiling to herself as she sank deeper into the beanbag. Maybe Jack Hughes wasn’t just a pretty face after all. And maybe, just maybe, this friend date wasn’t so bad after all.

—

Weeks passed, and what started as a single friend date grew into something neither of them had quite expected. Something real and deeper. Jack started showing up at the coffee shop every day after practice, sometimes before games, sometimes after. He’d slip in quietly, pulling his hood up, and find a corner table by the window. And there he’d stay, right where Anja could see him. It was like a routine now, something familiar and comforting.

He’d sit there, watching her work, the steady hum of the café filling the space between them as he lazily flipped through a book. On quieter days, when Anja wasn’t rushing from table to table, Jack would start talking—about hockey, the latest game, or whatever TV show had caught his attention. Their conversations stretched beyond the usual small talk. They argued about politics, books, their childhood, even their biggest fears. Jack was always challenging the way she thought about things, pushing her to question what she believed. And though it sometimes annoyed her, Anja couldn’t deny that she actually enjoyed it.

She began to appreciate the complexity in him, the layers behind the cocky smile and careless attitude. It wasn’t just the light teasing that made her laugh. It was the way he could discuss some silly tv show one minute and then dive into a heated debate about the latest political news the next. And sometimes, when their conversations would die down, Jack would pull out a book, burying himself in it while Anja went about her work. They’d fall into a comfortable silence, the kind only true friends could share.

More and more, Anja found herself looking forward to seeing Jack walk in. There was something about him that made everything feel a little more relaxed.

It wasn’t long before their friendship spilled over into texts. Casual check-ins after games, long messages about something that had made them laugh, or a random book recommendation. Anja, to her own surprise, found herself enjoying it. She’d thought it would be strange, having Jack’s name constantly flashing on her phone, but it wasn’t. It was… nice. She wasn’t sure when the shift happened, but somewhere between the books they’d shared, the heated debates, and the quiet moments spent together, Jack had become a friend in a way she hadn’t expected.

And now, as she glanced over at him, sitting in his usual spot, flipping through pages of Inferno by Dante, she couldn’t help but smile. 

Then, as she turned to take an order at the counter, she heard laughter from across the café. She didn’t even need to look to know what was happening. Jack, as usual, had charmed a group of older ladies sitting near the pastry case.

“Oh, come on, Marge,” he said, grinning at one of them as he leaned casually on the counter. “You can’t tell me you weren’t a heartbreaker back in the day. I bet you had all the boys lined up.”

Marge, a widow in her seventies who came in every morning with her two best friends, waved him off with a playful scoff. “Oh, hush, you flirt. You’re just trying to sweet-talk me into buying you a cookie.”

Jack gasped dramatically, but his confident smile was still on his face. “Marge, I would never!”

Anja, overhearing the entire exchange as she filled a coffee cup, tried—and failed—to stifle a laugh. She bit her lip, shaking her head as Jack continued his antics, effortlessly charming the older women like he was born to do it.

But then, when his gaze flickered back to Anja, something changed. The easy, flirtatious grin softened. His shoulders relaxed. He still had that effortless confidence, that natural charm, but when it was just the two of them, it was different. He didn’t need to perform. He let Anja see something deeper—something quieter, more thoughtful.

She walked past his table, setting down a fresh cup of coffee without him even asking. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” she murmured, shaking her head.

Jack just smirked up at her, his voice dropping into something softer, something just for her. “Yeah, but you like it.”

Anja rolled her eyes, but she didn’t argue. Because maybe, just maybe, he was right.

– 

Jack hated these nights.

Another brutal loss. Another night of feeling like the weight of the entire team was sitting on his chest. With Nico out, the pressure had been on him to step up, to push the team to a win. And he tried. He fucking tried. But it wasn’t happening.

And to make matters worse, the apartment wasn’t exactly peaceful.

A muffled whimper filtered through the wall. Then another. Then—Jesus Christ.

Jack clenched his jaw and rolled onto his stomach, shoving his pillow over his head as if that would help. Spoiler: it didn’t.

Luke and Thea were home. And happy. And apparently, they had absolutely no concept of thin walls.

And maybe Jack was just being petty, but it was hard not to feel... left out. Especially when he remembered how he’d been on with Anja these past few weeks.

Jack had never experienced a true friendship with a woman, but Anja was different. From the start, she made it clear that she only saw him as a friend—and that was fine with him. At first, he struggled to accept it, but over time, things shifted. They grew closer, spending hours together, laughing, talking, and sharing moments. Jack found himself explaining the New Jersey Devils to her—a tough task, especially since she was a Bruins fan and knew next to nothing about his team. Patience wasn’t his strong suit, and the fact that she didn’t seem to care made it even harder to keep his cool. Still, he couldn’t help but respect that she wasn’t one of those girls who swooned over him. It was... refreshing.

But still... there were nights, like tonight, when it hit him.

He couldn’t deny it—he was drawn to her. He loved their friendship, no question, but deep down, there was always that something more. That unspoken tension, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. He wasn’t ready to face it. Jack didn’t do love. It was just sexual tension, he told himself. It couldn’t be anything more. After all, Anja was a beautiful, young woman, and he was a ridiculously good-looking athlete. Of course, they had chemistry. But that’s all it was. 

And then there were nights like this, where his mind wandered off course, and instead of texting her—because that would be weird—he went back to his old habits. Hook-ups. Quick distractions. Just something to get his mind off things.

So, he picked up his phone and fired off a few texts. It was easier this way, he told himself. 

It wasn’t like he wanted anything serious with anyone else. He wasn’t looking for that. But sometimes, he just needed a reminder that he could still get attention from people. He still had that pull. Even if Anja didn’t feel the same way.

He knew what he was doing wasn’t exactly healthy. But it was easier than dealing with the things that really mattered.

Five weeks since he’d met her. Four weeks since she had completely turned his world upside down. But that wasn’t her fault. He was the one who couldn’t seem to figure things out.

His phone buzzed almost immediately. But it wasn’t the message he was expecting.

A: Hey, Prince Charming.

Jack smirked, running a hand through his hair as he read the text. The nickname had started after their first friend date, when she’d looked at him with that amused glint in her eye and said he reminded her of a fairytale prince—all looks, maybe not completely dumb, but let’s be honest, not that smart either. He should’ve been offended, but for some reason, he fucking loved it when she called him that.

Another buzz.

A: So, that was a really shitty game. You sucked today.

Jack barked out a laugh. Jesus. He loved that this woman didn’t hold back. Everyone else always tried to phrase it in a way that wouldn't bruise his ego. Not Anja. She came at him full force.

J: Wow. Don’t hold back or anything.

A: I don’t do sugarcoating. You were bad. Like, painfully bad.

J: Yeah, yeah. I know. Thanks for the reminder.

A: Anytime, Hughes.

Jack shook his head, still smiling as he stared at the screen. His other texts—the ones he’d sent out looking for a distraction—were sitting there, unread. He didn’t even feel like checking them anymore. Instead, he rolled onto his side, typing out another response.

J: So what, you just text me to roast me, or are you actually gonna make me feel better?

A: Oh, I was getting there. You’re a disaster, but at least you’re a pretty disaster.

J: Pretty disaster, huh? Wow, really boosting my confidence here.

Jack rolled his eyes, but a small smile spread across his face.

A: You’re welcome. It’s the least I can do. You looked so sad out there today, I felt bad for you.

J: I don’t need pity. I need sleep.

He ran a hand through his hair, irritation creeping back in. The game had been brutal, and now he was staring at the ceiling again, the exhaustion weighing on him. Tomorrow’s practice would be hell if he didn’t get some sleep. His body was already aching from the game, and now this.

A: Oh, so now you want sympathy? Make up your mind, Hughes.

J: I’m just saying, I’m exhausted. And I’ve got thin walls here—Luke and Thea are having the time of their life, and I can’t escape it. I’ve tried everything. Nothing works.

A: Ah, poor thing. Just not jealous?

J: Trust me, the last thing I want to do right now is stick my dick in anybody. I don’t even know how Lukey does it. Guess being young helps… Maybe Thea was right about that stamina thing...

A: Jesus Jack! You really don’t have a filter. TMI! But…Well… I mean, if you need a place to crash, my couch is always available.

J: Wait, seriously?

Jack paused, blinking at his phone. He wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or serious. But there was a part of him that was already considering it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a night to himself that didn’t end with him staring at the ceiling.

A: Yeah, I’m serious. We’re friends. Even if this is painful for me to admit. And I live basically 10 minutes from you. Just come over.

J: …Wait, you actually want me to crash at your place?

A: Just don’t make me regret this, Prince Charming!

Jack chuckled. This… this was definitely unexpected.

J: Alright, fine. I’ll take you up on the offer. Thanks, Anja!

—

Jack stepped into Anja’s apartment, every muscle in his body groaning in protest.

His legs ached from the game, his mind was a chaotic mess, but right now, all he could think about was sleep. Real sleep. Not the restless, half-conscious tossing and turning that had been his last few nights. He needed to crash—hard.

And then he saw her.

Anja stood in the soft glow of the apartment, wearing loose, dark pajamas, her hair twisted up in a messy bun. No makeup, no effort—just her. Effortlessly beautiful, untouched by the outside world.

Jack’s brain stalled for a second.

How the hell was she this attractive without even trying?

He shook the thought away. It was exhaustion, right? Had to be. She was just… Anja. He was too damn tired to think straight.

So, Jack did what any man on the brink of collapse would do—he went straight for the bed, flopping face-first onto the mattress without asking.

Behind him, Anja leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. “You know the rules. Couch.”

Jack groaned into the pillow. “Anja. Please. My body is broken. My soul is hanging by a thread. And that couch? That couch is where souls go to die.”

Anja snorted. “You’ll survive.”

Jack rolled onto his side, his eyes heavy with tiredness, but he still managed to give her a slow, teasing glance. "You’re seriously gonna make me crash out there when there’s a whole king-sized bed right here?" He patted the mattress like it was the most inviting thing in the world. "Come on, that’s practically a crime against humanity."

Anja lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “You are humanity’s crime.”

Jack grinned. “Thank you.”

She sighed, rubbing her temple like she was already regretting every life decision that had led to this moment.

Jack pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Alright. Let’s make a deal. I’ll do anything. Literally anything. Name it.”

Anja smirked. “Anything?”

Jack nodded solemnly.

“I want—” she paused for dramatic effect “—a New York Rangers jersey.”

Jack’s face twisted in disbelief. “Okay, that’s just plain evil, darling.”

Anja smirked, knowing full well how much Jack loathed the Rangers. Her hockey knowledge was avarage, but she was well aware of the hostility between Jack’s team and their biggest rival.

Jack exhaled in frustration, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, new offer: I’ll make you breakfast.”

Anja let out a short laugh. “You can’t cook, Jacky. That’s basically a threat, not an offer.”

“Incorrect,” Jack said, giving her a playful look as he pointed at her.“I can cook. I just choose not to.”

Anja stared at him, unamused.

“Okay, fine,” Jack groaned, his hands raised in mock surrender. “I can make breakfast. Still counts.”

“That’s just eggs. And even those are awful,” Anja remarked dryly.

Jack shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, still technically breakfast.”

“Anja,” he said, voice grave. “I am a man at his lowest. My body is failing me, my will to live is fading, and you—” he pointed dramatically at her “—have the power to save me.”

Anja blinked at him, unimpressed. “You are so dramatic.”

Jack pressed a hand to his chest. “I prefer passionate.”

She rolled her eyes again, exhaling like this whole act was physically draining her, and for a second, Jack thought she was going to send him to the couch anyway. But then she let out a long, resigned sigh, shaking her head like she already regretted it.

“One night,” she said, pointing at him sharply. “And no funny business.”

Jack shot up like he’d just been given a second lease on life, already pulling off his hoodie as he practically dove under the covers. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

Anja muttered something under her breath about regretting this already, flicking off the light as she climbed into bed beside him.

Jack exhaled as his body sank into the mattress, tension bleeding from his muscles. But just as his brain started to shut down, he caught it—her scent.

That unmistakable mix of orange and peppermint.

It was everywhere. In the sheets, in the pillows, in the air itself, wrapping around him and settling into his skin like a slow, creeping warmth he hadn’t been expecting.

His body relaxed instantly, but his mind? His mind did the opposite.

He wasn’t sure why this felt different. Why she felt different. Why, after all the nights spent in beds that weren’t his, this—lying next to Anja, stealing her blankets, breathing in the scent of orange and peppermint—was the only thing that had ever felt right.

He hated how much he liked it.

Jack turned his head toward her, voice low, teasing. “You know, if you let me stay in this bed again, I’ll compose an original poem just for you.”

Anja groaned. “Shut up, Hughes!”

Jack grinned. “A sonnet, actually. Or maybe a haiku—short and sweet. You know, something like—” He cleared his throat, pretending to get serious before continuing, “Shall I compare thee to—”

Anja rolled over, cutting him off by slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Enough,” she murmured, her voice light but warm, with a hint of something almost... hesitant.

Jack blinked up at her, his lips still pressed against her palm. The room felt different all of a sudden, as if the air had thickened. Maybe it was exhaustion, or maybe something else entirely, but the shift between them was unmistakable.

Neither of them moved for a moment.

Jack could feel the heat of her skin against his face, and saw how her breathing slowed just a fraction, like she had only just realized how close they were. He should say something, crack a joke, break the silence. But for once, he didn’t.

And then—because he was Jack—he wiggled his eyebrows.

Anja blinked at him, like she was snapping out of a daze, and pulled her hand away, rolling onto her side. “You’re such a pain.”

Jack chuckled, stealing half the blanket. “And yet, here I am, still in this bed.”

Anja rolled her eyes, pulling her blanket back. “You’re lucky I’m not making you sleep on the couch. And honestly, how do you know what a haiku is? You didn’t even know that Germany and Switzerland were two different countries.”

Jack groaned, but the smile never left his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head slightly. “I’m misunderstood,” he muttered, like he was truly burdened by it.

Anja laughed softly, the sound light and warm in the dim room. “Yeah, the real mystery, Jack Hughes. You’re dumb enough to confuse countries, but you’re cultured enough to drop haiku on me.”

“Hey,” Jack said, lifting his head and squinting at her with a playful grin, “I’m a complex man. Who loves literature.”

She rolled her eyes once more, but a smile played at the corners of her lips. “And that’s exactly what makes you so damn annoying.”

Jack smirked, sinking back into the pillows. “Glad to see you recognize my complexity.”

Anja sighed, still facing away, though Jack could feel the faint shake of her shoulders as she tried to stifle a laugh. “You really think you’ve won, don’t you?”

Jack relaxed into the bed, the warmth of her body and the soft sound of her laughter soothing him. “Oh, I know I have.”

Anja scoffed, but Jack could hear the smile in her voice. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Jack smirked, his eyes fluttering closed. “Oh, I will.”

—

Jack sat at the kitchen table, staring down at his coffee like it owed him money. His head was pounding, and the goddamn world seemed way too fucking chipper for his liking. His body was sore as hell from practice, but it was nothing compared to the frustration buzzing through his brain.

“You’re a ray of sunshine today, Jacky,” Thea chirped as she walked in, pressing a kiss to Luke’s head. Of course, Luke had to shoot her a goofy grin, like he was a damn golden retriever. Ugh. Disgusting.

“Shut up, pedo,” Jack mumbled, trying to sip his coffee without gagging. He didn’t care if his tone was off. He wasn’t here for their bullshit today.

Luke rolled his eyes, totally unfazed. “What the hell happened to you, man? You were all full of energy this morning—like, bouncing off the walls—and now you're just... this.” He gestured at Jack, who was hunched over the table like he was already dead inside.

Jack snorted, clearly not in the mood for a pep talk. “Maybe I’m just tired of people asking me why I’m an asshole. Get a new hobby.”

Yeah, Luke was right. He knew that. But honestly? He had way bigger problems right now. Like, Anja.

This morning had started off like some cheesy rom-com, and Jack was seriously starting to panic about it. He woke up, and there she was—her small, warm body tangled up in his, all soft and perfect. For a split second, he actually thought about kissing her—maybe snuggling, maybe even making her coffee. What the hell? When had he become the type of guy who fantasized about making coffee for someone? What was next, brunch? Fucking brunch?!

But, of course, it wasn’t until he was changing out of his hockey gear, post-practice, that he realized what a weird thought that was. He wasn’t exactly known for catching on to things quickly. He knew his flaws. But here he was, practically having a meltdown over the idea of wanting to snuggle.

And the worst part? The morning had been way too perfect for his comfort. Like, Anja didn’t even make the cuddling weird. Which, on any other day, would be a blessing. But now? He was thinking about her—and not in a “she’s a cool, funny friend” way. No, this was different. This was “I just woke up in her bed and I’m wondering if we should get matching coffee mugs” levels of insane.

They’d woken up, did the lazy morning cuddle thing—because apparently, Jack had no self-control—then they’d grabbed coffee. He’d cracked a few jokes about the news, she’d laughed like it was just another morning. And, damn it, it felt so normal. Too normal.

And then came the worst part: he kissed her on the cheek when he left. Like, a peck. And she blushed. She fucking blushed and wished him a good day like she was some picture-perfect, Hallmark-movie wife.

Did he just call her a wife? Oh, hell no. That couldn’t be a thing. He wasn’t ready for that.

He gulped down more coffee like it was going to fix this internal meltdown. The burn hit his chest, but the panic was still there. He had to shake it off. This was stupid. Anja was just a friend—no, not just a friend, she was a friend who he happened to share a bed with... and now apparently, his feelings? What the hell was happening to him?

Jack swore under his breath, rubbing his forehead. This wasn’t him. He was the guy who had no problems keeping things casual, no strings, no feelings. But now? Now he was screwing up his own rulebook. Anja is a friend…just a friend!

Jack sighed dramatically, letting his frustration hang in the air like a thick cloud. “Look, I don’t know what the hell is going on, alright? But I feel like a goddamn idiot. I’m not supposed to be thinking about this. I should be pissed about my game, but instead..." He rubbed his forehead, hoping it would somehow stop the mental chaos.

Luke, ever the observant little shit, raised an eyebrow. “So this is about her? Anja, right?”

Jack shot him a look that could’ve melted steel. “Well, no, I’m talking about the weather, Luke. Of course it’s about Anja. Who else would it be?” He paused, then—BAM—his brain hit him with a sudden revelation. Wait a second—this was actually Luke’s fault. “Actually, this is your fault, you know. If you and Thea weren’t busy mating like a pair of rabbits, I wouldn’t have had to leave the house yesterday!”

Luke’s smirk was already five miles wide. “Man, just admit it. You’re into her. You’re all mopey and pissy because you’ve got no idea what to do with it.”

Jack glared at him like he just insulted his entire existence. “Fuck off. I don’t do feelings. And I sure as hell don’t do snuggling.”

He immediately slapped his hand over his mouth, realizing he'd maybe over-shared just a bit.

Thea grabbed an apple from the fridge and plopped herself down on Luke’s lap “Snuggling? Snuggling? Oh, Jack, you are so gone.” She bit into the apple dramatically, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“You sure about that ‘no snuggle’ rule?”Luke teased, clearly enjoying the moment, as he lightly traced circles on Thea's exposed hip.

“Oh, Luke, do you remember what Jack said to Quinn?” Thea tilted her head, changing her voice to mock Jack. “‘Who said anything about it ‘meaning’ anything? I’m just here for the ride, bro.’” She smirked. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you.”

Jack groaned. “Oh, God, please, feel free to enjoy my suffering. It’s what you’re best at.”

Thea clutched her chest like she was watching the best drama unfold right in front of her. “Oh, I’m living for this. You know, those moments that are so painfully awkward and secondhand embarrassing that they keep you entertained for weeks? Jack Hughes falling in love—now that’s the kind of content I’ll be replaying in my head forever.”

Jack shot her a glare. He knew exactly what she was referencing. That was his line—the same one he threw at Thea when he caught her sneaking out of Luke’s room. Yeah, maybe he’d been a little too smug about it at the time. And sure, he knew she’d get her revenge eventually.

But honestly? Making his brother and his date uncomfortable had been way too much fun.

Jack would love to say he’d learned his lesson.

But he was way too much of an asshole for that.

“Yeah, yeah, enjoy every moment of this,” Jack grumbled, grabbing the last of his coffee and standing up. “Because this will be short. I’m just gonna figure my shit out. No more cuddling, no more kissing her on the cheek like I’m some goddamn romantic. I’m not built for this.” He slammed his mug down with a little more force than necessary. “I’ll find some random girl tonight, bang her, and get over this. Problem solved.”

Luke just shook his head, his curly hair bouncing with the motion, falling in soft waves across his forehead. “You know you’re not fooling anyone, right?”

Jack shot him an icy glare. “Shut up, Mr. Pedo Lover.” He practically growled as he stomped over to the sink, banging the mug down.

Thea and Luke exchanged a look, their smiles knowing. They didn’t even need to say anything, and it pissed Jack off even more. He muttered under his breath as he turned to leave the kitchen, needing to get away before he said something even dumber. But in the back of his mind, his thoughts kept running. Fuck. What the hell was he even doing?

—

The music pounded through the bar, a steady, brain-numbing beat. Jack Hughes barely noticed, his attention fixed on his beer as he took a slow sip.

He was in trouble.

Not because of the game. Not because of a fight. But because, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t find a single fucking woman he wanted to take home.

And that was a problem.

A huge problem.

This Sunday night was supposed to be easy. A big win finally, a few drinks, a quick fuck. No strings, no thoughts, no mess. That was the routine. That was him. And yet, here he was, staring into his beer like it held the answers to his fucked-up brain.

It was Nico’s slap on his back that snapped him out of it.

“Come on, man! What the hell’s up with you? You’ve turned down, what? Ten girls already?”

“Four,” Jack muttered.

Nico laughed, shaking his head. “That’s not like you, Jacky boy. You sick or something?”

Jack grunted, smacking Nico’s hand away when he pressed it to his forehead. He took another long swig of beer, hoping the alcohol would do something—blur the edges, dull the noise, drown out her.

Because that was the real problem, wasn’t it?

Anja.

The fucking Anja Syndrome.

Every girl, every goddamn girl, he measured against her. And every single one of them came up short.

Too blonde. Too tall. Too high-pitched. Too weird with her fucking drink.

It was bullshit.

Jack never gave a shit before. He didn’t care if they were tall or short, blonde or brunette. If they had a body and were willing, that was enough. And yeah, he knew that made him sound like a dick, but he was 23, a pro athlete, and he’d be an idiot not to enjoy the perks.

So why the fuck was he sitting here, empty-handed, second-guessing his entire goddamn existence?

“Come on, Jack,” Bas nudged him, nodding toward the bar. “That little blonde has been eye-fucking you all night. Give her some mercy.”

Jack glanced over.

Petite. A little too skinny, but she had pretty greenish-brown eyes and a face guys would probably call “cute.” She was fine.

She should be perfect.

But she wasn’t her.

Oh, fuck off.

No more of this shit.

This girl was hot, and she was ready to go. She was exactly what he needed to snap himself out of this bullshit.

“Perfect,” Jack muttered. Ignoring his teammates’ laughter, he downed the rest of his beer and pushed himself to his feet.

With long, confident strides, he crossed the bar, slipping back into the guy he used to be—the one who didn’t overthink, didn’t feel. He flashed his best smirk, the one that melted panties before he even said a word.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he drawled, voice dropping into that low, rough tone that always did the trick.

The girl beamed. “Hey! Took you long enough.” She giggled, the sound high and grating.

Jack forced a smirk. “You know how it is—can’t ditch the team right away.”

He didn’t care about the small talk.

Didn’t want it.

He just needed this to work.

“So… wanna head to the back with me?” He made sure his tone left no room for misinterpretation.

The girl’s eyes sparkled. “Of course.”

That was all he needed.

He took her wrist, weaving through the crowd until they reached the back exit. He’d spotted the terrace earlier—quiet, dim, completely empty. Perfect for what he needed.

And the second the terrace door swung shut behind them, Jack wasted no time.

He grabbed the girl by the waist, pulling her flush against him, his mouth crashing onto hers with a force that had always been enough. His hands slid down her back, gripping, squeezing, searching for that familiar spark—that fire that always ignited the second he got a girl alone.

But nothing came.

Not even a flicker.

The girl moaned into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair, pressing herself against him like she wanted to be devoured. It should have been hot. It should have sent a jolt straight to his dick, setting off that automatic chain reaction his body had perfected over the years.

But there was nothing.

Nothing except a creeping, cold frustration curling in his gut.

No. No, this was just in his head. He needed to push through it. He could push through it.

Jack deepened the kiss, tilting her head back as his hands roamed lower, his body pressing her into the brick wall behind them. He rolled his hips forward, desperate for his body to wake the fuck up, desperate for the heat to kick in, for the hunger to return.

Still nothing.

His pulse pounded—not with arousal, but with something dangerously close to panic.

What the fuck was happening to him?

The girl let out a high-pitched giggle, threading her fingers down his chest, her nails scraping against his shirt as she reached for his belt.

"Let me take care of you," she whispered, voice dripping with suggestion.

Jack flinched.

His stomach turned.

It wasn’t her voice.

It wasn’t her hands.

He sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing his eyes shut, willing himself to snap out of it. He could fix this. He just needed to focus.

He dropped his head to the girl's neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her throat, hands gripping her hips, fingers digging in. He sucked at her pulse point, dragging his teeth over her skin in the way that usually made a girl melt against him.

She gasped, arching into him, nails raking down his back.

Jack felt nothing.

His body was like a fucking corpse.

Dead.

Unresponsive.

Refusing to play along.

And then, before he could stop it, before he could shove it back down where it belonged—her face flashed in his mind.

Anja.

That smug little smirk she got when she knew she was right. The way she tilted her head when she was listening to him talk, like he was the most interesting person in the world. The fire in her eyes when she called him on his bullshit.

The way her body had felt against his that one night when they slept in the same bed.

The way he’d spent every second since aching to feel it again..

Jack froze.

His entire body locked up, his breathing sharp and erratic.

The girl noticed immediately.

"You okay?" she murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw, hands still working at his belt. "Just relax, baby."

Jack jerked back like he’d been burned.

Baby.

She wasn’t her.

She would never be her.

And for the first time in his life, that mattered.

"Fuck," Jack breathed, running a shaky hand through his hair.

The girl frowned. "What?"

He swallowed hard, his throat dry as sandpaper. "I— I can't. I— This isn’t gonna happen."

Her expression flickered with confusion, then shifted into irritation. "Oh, come on. You just need a little—"

She reached for him again, her hand slipping down toward his belt, but Jack caught her wrist before she could get any further.

"No." His voice was firm. Sharper than he intended.

She yanked her hand back like he’d slapped her, eyes narrowing. "Seriously?" She let out a harsh laugh, crossing her arms. "What, you bring me out here just to waste my fucking time?"

Jack exhaled heavily, raking both hands through his hair. His chest felt too tight, like his ribs were closing in on his lungs.

"You’re not her," he muttered, his voice raw, barely above a whisper. He shook his head, running a shaky hand through his hair.

"Fuck. You are not her."

And that was the problem.

Her gaze darkened with annoyance. "Oh, so it's me that’s the problem?" She scoffed. "Classic. Maybe next time don’t bite off more than you can chew, Hughes."

And with that, she spun on her heel, shoving open the terrace door and storming back into the bar.

Jack didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

His back hit the brick wall as he slid down, knees bent, head tipped back against the cold surface. His breaths were uneven, his entire body wound too tight, but still—nothing.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his fists clenching uselessly in his lap.

His body had never betrayed him before.

Never failed him.

And now?

Now, it was screaming the truth at him.

The truth he’d been trying to ignore for weeks.

He didn’t just want Anja.

It was worse than that.

She was the only one who fucking existed.

And he was so. Completely. Fucked.

—

“Shit,” he muttered to himself, still trying to make sense of what had just happened. The girl in the back. His body refusing to cooperate. The cold panic that had washed over him like a wave when he realized it wasn’t just that he didn’t want her—he didn’t want anyone. Not unless it was her.

Anja.

That thought hit him again. Like a sucker punch straight to the gut.

He hadn’t realized how deep this shit went until now. He’d spent weeks trying to deny it, trying to make himself believe that it was just a phase. That he could get over it. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t because Anja wasn’t just someone he was into. She was the one. She was it.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it. His mind was too loud. He didn’t want to talk to anyone else. Not right now. Not when his entire body was screaming one thing.

Her.

He reached the street and stood there for a second, trying to get his bearings. The world around him felt off-kilter. Everything looked distant, like he wasn’t actually here, like he was floating in some fucked-up dream.

“Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath, pulling his phone out. He tapped through his contacts and hit the taxi app without a second thought. He needed to get to her. Now.

His finger hovered over the ‘Confirm’ button before he pressed it without hesitation. He didn’t even care if he was drunk—he couldn’t stay here, couldn’t keep sitting with the fucking mess in his head.

He could already feel the buzz from the alcohol, the remnants of the beers he’d downed earlier, swirling in his blood. But it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered except getting to her.

The ride felt endless. The city lights blurred outside the cab window as he stared at his phone, willing it to stop feeling like it was vibrating in his hand. His mind kept replaying the images of Anja—the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, the sound of her voice when she laughed at his dumb jokes. God, even the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating made him want to crawl out of his skin.

By the time the taxi pulled up to her building, Jack didn’t know if he was angry, frustrated, or just scared shitless. Probably all of the above.

He handed the driver a few bills without even looking at the change, already pulling the door open and stepping out before the car had even come to a full stop. He jogged up the steps of her building, his hands clammy, stomach twisted in knots.

When he reached her door, he didn’t ring the doorbell. He didn’t wait. He just raised his hand and banged on the wood, the sound echoing in the stillness of the hallway. He felt like he might pass out from the tension in his body, the anticipation clenching his chest tighter with every passing second.

It felt like forever before he heard the sound of footsteps. And then the door creaked open.

After a few seconds, he heard the shuffle of footsteps, and then the door cracked open to reveal a very unimpressed, very sleepy-looking Anja. Fuck she was beautiful. 

She blinked at him. “Jack?” Her voice was groggy, her hair a mess. “It’s one in the morning.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said quickly. “I—I needed to talk to you.”

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Are you dying?”

“No.”

“Is someone else dying?”

“No.”

She squinted at him. “Are you drunk?”

Jack hesitated. “...A little.”

Anja let out a dramatic sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Alright, go on then. What’s so important that you had to wake me up in the middle of the night?”

Jack opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

Then ran a hand through his hair because shit, this was harder than he thought.

“Okay, so—” He exhaled sharply. “Something happened tonight, and I think I’m broken.”

Anja raised an eyebrow. “Broken?”

“Like, physically broken.” He gestured vaguely to himself. “Like… I had a girl—a very hot girl, by the way—practically throwing herself at me, and nothing. Not a damn thing.” He pointed at his own chest. “My body just—betrayed me.”

Anja stared at him for a second. Then, to his absolute horror—she burst out laughing.

Like, full-on, body-shaking laughter.

Jack scowled. “Okay, rude.”

“Oh my god.” She clutched the doorframe for support, laughing so hard she nearly lost her balance. “Jack, I swear, if you woke me up just to tell me you couldn’t get it up, I’m slamming this door in your face.”

“It’s not about that!” Jack groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Well, it is, but it’s also not.” He sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Look, I was with this girl, right? And she was perfect—like, objectively, guys would kill to be with her. And I tried, I really tried—”

Anja snorted. “Poor girl.”

“—but the whole time, all I could think about was you.”

That shut her up.

Anja’s smile froze, her laughter dying in her throat.

Jack swallowed hard. “That’s the problem, Anja. It’s you. You’ve ruined me.” He pointed at her like she was some kind of criminal. “I used to be great at this. No thoughts, just vibes. But now? Now, I go out, I find a hot girl, I do my thing—except I can’t do my thing, because all I can think about is how she doesn’t laugh like you, or talk like you, or smell like you, or—fuck, Anja—hell, even the way she breathed just annoyed the hell out of me.”

Anja blinked. “...The way she breathed?”

Jack threw his hands in the air. “Yeah! Stupid, right?! But it mattered! And you wanna know why? Because she wasn’t you.” He let out a frustrated noise, pacing in a small circle before turning back to her. “I fell, Anja. Hard. And I don’t even know what the fuck to do with it, because I’ve never—” He stopped, exhaling shakily. His voice dropped, raw and unguarded. “I’ve never been in love before.”

She stared at him, eyes wide, lips parted slightly like she wasn’t sure if she should laugh again or take him seriously.

Jack exhaled loudly, raking both hands through his hair. “So, yeah. I’m here. I’m standing on your doorstep like a fucking idiot, telling you that I’m gone for you. And I don’t even know what I expect you to do with that information, but I couldn’t not tell you, because keeping it inside was making me lose my goddamn mind.”

Silence stretched between them.

Jack’s pulse thundered in his ears as he watched Anja process everything he just blurted out like an absolute lunatic.

Then, slowly, she started smiling again.

And then—yep, there it was—she was laughing again.

Jack groaned. “Oh my god, Anja, I’m baring my soul here!”

“I know,” she gasped between laughs. “That’s what makes it so funny!” She wiped her eyes. “Jack Hughes, king of hookups, showing up at my door at one in the morning to tell me he’s emotionally constipated and in love with me? This is gold.”

Jack scowled, crossing his arms. “I take it back. I don’t like you anymore.”

Anja just grinned, stepping forward until she was standing right in front of him. “Too late, idiot.”

Jack’s breath hitched.

She was close now. So close that he could see the tiny freckles on her nose, the way her lips curled just slightly at the corners like she was still fighting laughter.

Then, before he could say anything else, she reached up and flicked his forehead.

“Ow,” Jack muttered, rubbing the spot.

Anja smirked. “That’s what you get for waking me up.”

And then—finally—she tugged him down by the collar of his hoodie and kissed him.

Jack froze for half a second before his brain caught up.

Then?

Then, he kissed her back.

This kiss was different. It wasn’t rushed or uncertain. It wasn’t a fleeting thing. This was everything he’d been missing, everything he didn’t know he wanted. The warmth of her lips, the softness of her touch, and the unmistakable scent of oranges that clung to her skin—it was intoxicating. He couldn’t breathe without it. Without her.

When they finally pulled apart, Anja’s smile was wide, like she’d just won something precious.

Jack blinked at her, heart pounding. “So, just to clarify… you like me too, right? This isn’t just, like, a pity kiss?”

Anja rolled her eyes, but the affection in her gaze was clear. “Yes, dumbass. I like you.”

Jack let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his entire body sagging with relief. “Oh, thank God.”

She laughed again, the sound like music to his ears, shaking her head as she pulled him inside.

And just like that, Jack Hughes—the guy who swore he'd never let anyone in—was completely, hopelessly lost.

—

It took Jack three months to finally introduce Anja to Luke and Thea. Not like he didn’t want to shout it out to the world the very next morning after his drunk love confession that Anja had said yes to be his girlfriend. The thing was, saying those words had felt strange, almost surreal for Jack. He didn’t remember the last time he’d had a real relationship—maybe back in high school? But high school felt like a lifetime ago. And back then, relationships were fleeting, brief. Nothing like what he felt for Anja.

But after meeting Anja, everything started to feel different. Jack couldn’t stop thinking about how he felt when he kissed her, when she smiled at him, when they were together, just the two of them. It wasn’t about sex, and that was the biggest shock to him. Every relationship he’d had before had always been tied up in physicality—chasing the high of the next touch, the next kiss, the next night. But with Anja, things were slower. The chemistry was undeniable, but they didn’t rush into anything. They took their time. And Jack was fine with that. 

So when Jack finally brought Anja around Luke and Thea, it felt like a milestone. They immediately clicked with her and both of them could see how well Anja handled Jack’s sometimes overly confident, sassy nature. Anja, in her own calm, collected way, knew how to ground Jack. She didn’t put up with his antics, but she didn’t try to change him either. They balanced each other out perfectly. Jack made Anja more confident, and she made him more humble. The shift in him was noticeable—his arrogance softened when she was around.

Things between Jack and Anja were effortless, natural. They’d fallen into a rhythm—hanging out with Luke and Thea, then slipping into quiet nights together. They’d binge-watch their favorite shows, wander around town grabbing food at random spots. But as their connection deepened, so did the tension—the unspoken feelings Jack wasn’t ready to confront.

Anja had made it clear she wasn’t in any rush, but Jack noticed a flicker of impatience in her over time. And he understood why. But for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to rush things. He didn’t want to mess up what they had by diving into something physical, especially after everything he’d been through. Every other relationship had been based on attraction, and they’d all ended in disappointment. This time, he wanted something real. He wanted something that could last. He cared too much about Anja to risk ruining it.

Then came that night. After a double movie date with Luke and Thea, the evening wrapped up with everyone saying their goodbyes. Anja had laughed with Thea all night—joking and teasing like they’d known each other for years. Jack watched them, captivated by how easy and natural it all was. And more than once, he found himself just staring at Anja, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky to have someone like her in his life.

As Luke and Thea headed off to their room, Anja turned to Jack, her smile soft but knowing. She stepped into his space, her body warm against his as she slid under his chin, leaning into his chest. Jack’s breath caught, his heart rate picking up. The scent of her perfume only made everything more intense.

"Hi," she said, her voice low, playful.

"Hi, baby," Jack responded, his smile matching hers, but there was something more beneath the surface. He brushed a strand of her hair from her face, his fingers grazing her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. She was up to something.

Anja’s fingertip traced small, slow circles on his neck—light, teasing touches that were enough to make his body respond before his mind could catch up. "So, I was thinking..." she said, her voice filled with mischief.

"Dangerous thing to do," Jack teased, his voice rougher than he intended, heat already pooling in his chest. He could feel his body weakening.

Anja giggled, hitting him lightly on the chest. "Shut up, you."

Jack grinned, but his thoughts scattered. Her touch was like fire, and it was hard to think straight with her so close.

"Can I stay the night?" she asked, her voice soft, but there was an edge to it now—something more vulnerable, something Jack couldn’t ignore. "I’ve missed you these last couple of days. Your schedule’s been all over the place, and I’ve been working late shifts... It’d be nice to just snuggle with you. You know, wake up next to you."

Jack’s brain short-circuited. The thought of waking up beside her, of having her close, overwhelmed him. Just the way she said it—her words carrying something deeper—made his heart race. He couldn’t focus on anything else. She knew exactly what she was doing. The sly smile on her lips, the gleam in her eyes—it all made it clear she wasn’t just asking to stay. She was asking for something more.

Jack kissed her temple—soft, quick—before answering, his voice unsteady, without thinking, “Sure, Jaja. That sounds amazing.”

"Thanks, baby," she said lightly, almost singing the words. "I’ll just grab one of your T-shirts for PJs and take a quick shower."

Before Jack could even process it, Anja jumped up from his lap, leaving him sitting there alone, his mind racing. She was leaving him spinning, and he had no idea how to catch up. He tried to steady himself, but his thoughts were already scattered, caught between what he wanted and what he was afraid of.

“Minx,” Jack murmured under his breath, leaning back into the couch, running a hand through his hair. He knew exactly what she was doing, but he wasn’t ready to play along—not yet. Anja deserved more than a rushed moment while his brother and his girlfriend were just down the hall.

Still, the thought of her in his T-shirt, of her curled up beside him, made it hard to resist.

—

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to think about anything else. Hockey stats. The weather. The existential dread of taxes.

Then the bathroom door clicked open.

Jack’s head snapped up.

Anja stepped out, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the bedside lamp. Her damp hair cascaded over her shoulders, darkened from the water, strands sticking to her collarbone. His breath stalled in his chest as his gaze drifted lower, catching on the oversized white T-shirt she’d chosen.

His T-shirt.

The fabric was old, worn thin from years of washing, clinging just enough to show the shape of her body. It barely covered her thighs, teasing at modesty—but when she moved, the dim light made the cotton damn near see-through. And under that shirt…nothing. Not even a pantie.

Jack’s grip on his phone tightened. Hard.

She knew what she was doing.

Anja smirked, catching the way his dark eyes flickered over her before he forced them back up. The way his chest rose and fell just a little too fast. She crossed the room slowly, stepping onto the bed, crawling toward him with deliberate slowness. Her fingers traced over his bare arm, featherlight, enough to make his breath hitch.

“You know,” she murmured, tilting her head, “I could have brought my own pajamas.” Her smirk widened. “But this just felt… better.”

Jack swallowed hard, his back pressing against the headboard like it could somehow create space between them. He needed to slow this down. He needed to say something—anything—to keep himself in check.

“Anja…” His voice was low, rough, a warning.

She didn’t let him finish.

Curling up beside him, she let her lips graze his jawline, barely a whisper of contact. Jack went still, every muscle in his body wound tight. Her breath was warm against his skin, her presence intoxicating, impossible to ignore.

“Relax, Hughes,” she teased. “I know what I want.”

Jack exhaled sharply, his hands flexing at his sides. He wanted to touch her. Badly. But if he did, there’d be no going back.

Anja’s fingers slid under the hem of his shirt, her nails tracing faint patterns across his stomach, slow, exploratory. “I want you, Jack,” she whispered against his ear. “Not just the careful version of you. I want all of you.”

Jack clenched his jaw, tilting his head back, fighting for control.

“Anja…” he ground out, his voice thick with restraint, “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

She shifted, straddling his lap, her hands gripping his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. “Don’t I?” she challenged, her gaze locked on his.

Jack knew that look. The same one she’d given him in the bookstore the first night they met—the night they sat there, arguing over War and Peace, the night he’d felt something shift inside him. That knowing, unwavering gaze.

“I saw you, Jack,” she said softly. “Not just the cocky hockey player everyone else sees. Not just the guy who acts like nothing gets to him. I saw You. And I think—no, I know—that we are perfect for each other. So stop fighting. Stop being afraid that being yourself will chase me away. I trust you. With my heart, with everything.”

She leaned in, lips brushing his ear, her voice a breathless whisper.

“So take me, Jack.”

Jack’s restraint snapped like a frayed thread.

His hands found her waist, fingers pressing into her skin, pulling her against him. With a rough growl, he flipped them over, pressing her into the mattress, his body caging hers in.

His lips crashed onto hers, all heat, all desperation. It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t slow. It was every moment he’d held back, every time he’d wanted her and hadn’t let himself have her.

Jack’s hand slid up, fingers curling around her throat, firm enough to make her breath hitch. His grip wasn’t tight—just enough to remind her who was in control. He crushed his mouth to hers, his tongue sweeping inside, swallowing the soft gasp she let out.

Anja rocked her soaked core against his thigh, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging, demanding more.

Jack pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his breath ragged, lips swollen, self-control slipping fast. “You sure you want this?” His voice was rough, almost a growl. “Luke and Thea are in the other room. And you won’t be quiet if we start, darling.”

His eyes locked onto hers—one last chance to stop him.

Anja arched up, pressing her body flush against his, nails scraping down his back, making him suck in a sharp breath. Her smile was wicked, teasing. “Pretty sure we’ve both heard enough of them to know they’re not exactly holding back.” Her lips brushed his ear, her voice pure sin. “It’s our turn.”

Jack’s smirk was slow, dark—pure fucking trouble. That cocky, self-assured look that had driven her crazy since day one.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over her throat, making her shiver. “You just opened Pandora’s box.”

[eddiernunson]

Waiting Room Problems | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader | 18+ |

Summary: a rough landing in a fight with your brother causes you to land in a crowded waiting room. Meanwhile a rough deal also sends Eddie the same fate. Somehow, somehow you try to keep your eyes on your phone and off his tiny little waist. It proves... difficult.

Warnings: strangers to lovers, fleeting glances, slightly cocky Eddie, sex in a public bathroom (trust me on this, just trust me), and general horniness at Eddie's general appearance, unprotected piv, against the wall fucking, deep throating, daddy kink

Authors note: I just spent 8 hours last night (when | wrote this) in the fucking waiting room. At two hours in a guy came in and he radiated Eddie's energy so my mind ran away with it. (Everything is ok).

Thanks for the hype on the preview! Hopefully this lives up to the hype

Thanks so much to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie ❤️

As the night swallows you whole, you sit in your mom’s passenger seat of her car as she drives you to the ER. While roughhousing with your older brother you landed on your hand wrong and bent it way back. It’s definitely not broken, but it for sure needs to be looked at.

As the lights of the night pass you by, you insist you’re fine and the sprain will heal after a few days. Your mom, however, was having none of it as you rolled your eyes in exasperation.

She’s as stubborn as you are, so you sit arms crossed as you know you have no choice. Ouch, ok, crossing your arms was a bad idea.

She wishes you well, her kind eyes wide as she leans over to ask you to keep her updated. You can’t help it, slamming the door after letting her know you will. You should’ve been enjoying some spiked eggnog and watching holiday movies, but now you’re spending Christmas Eve in the ER.

The large window to the waiting room lets you know there’s already a long line up just waiting for the triage and most seats are taken. Fuck, you’re in for a long night.

The kind and sunny nurse takes your vitals and information, gently assessing your symptoms and palpating your wrist carefully. She lets you know it’s definitely sprained and will need a gauze wrap.

Soon, you find yourself sitting in a brown, cracked, leather chair sitting close to a man who is coughing up a lung and groaning in pain after each bout. Not that there are many options to begin with.

Your phone in your hand and your charger in your bag, you sit comfortably and wait for your name to get called as you look at memes and watch videos with one headphone in.

Ninety minutes goes by while your best friend texts you to keep you busy and entertained, not even noticing you’ve been waiting for so long. Thank god for her.

For the first time in a while, you look up to assess the state of the waiting room. As far as you recall, about five people have been called to the back. Those seats have been replaced with new patients and their support, what seems to be a never-ending cycle.

Your eyes flick to someone who walks into the line that is long enough to extend into the hallway, stepping up a place in line and finally into the actual waiting room. Your eyes scan him, the boots, the ripped jeans, the leather jacket covering a graphic tee, all leading up to his shaggy brown hair and gorgeous face.

Your mouth partially opens, momentarily taken aback by how unbelievably hot he is. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, at least, until you notice the tear in his shirt peeking at white gauze on his torso. From the stain, it’s clear he was injured.

His face doesn’t reflect such, patiently waiting as the two triage nurses take their time. By the third time he blinks, you realize you’ve been staring and shift your eyes back down to your phone.

As the line moves, his boots in the corner of your eye, you grow increasingly aware of how much you want to continue staring at him. Something about him is just so enticing, drawing you in. Especially his lack of response to a wound as such.

Time passes on and soon you find yourself bored of the videos and turn on your Spotify to the comfort playlist. Your eyes flicker to the triage station, wandering around the room aimlessly. Unfortunately, it lands on the stranger you’ve been lingering on and witnesses him lifting his shirt to show the nurse the reason for his visit.

The black shirt lifts to show a slim waist scattered in black and grey tattoos, lifting the white gauze to reveal a gnarly wound. You can’t tell but from its shape it looks to be a stab wound. However gory his uncovered wound looks; you can’t help but stare at his bare torso.

Then, it fucking happens. His eyes flicker to you, for a fraction of second, he keeps the eye contact. His mouth twitches, leaning into something you’d call a smirk. As a reflex you shift your eyes away from him, cheeks heating up in embarrassment from getting caught.

You spend the next few minutes convincing yourself that it was all in your head, and that for all he knew you were zoned out and happened to be zoned out on him. It feels like a reach, especially with his torso as revealed as it was.

Time itself blurs as you zone out on your phone, attempting to distract yourself from your thumping heart and the arousal that pools into your cotton underwear. A shift in movement catches your eye, blurred and black in your periphery.

Your eyes by reflex glance up, catching a glimpse of him slouching in his chair, a foot resting on the other as knee he uses wired headphones and stares at whatever’s on his phone. Somehow, his confidence at making himself at home is still attractive, drool gathering in your mouth.

You look down at your phone before he catches you again, this visit at the ER sending a thrill through you that you didn’t expect in the least.

More and more people get called to the back, and you're still stuck waiting. Everyone who you’ve told is surprised to say the least that it’s been hours and you’re still just in the waiting room. You don’t mind though, sneaking glances at the beautiful stranger has become your favourite pastime.

Four hours in, if someone asked your highlight it would be when he head-banged to whatever assumingly heavy metal band he listens to. By the time the nurse calls your name to the back, it takes a strong second place.

About twenty minutes pass before it’s your turn for a bed, and you are let your eyes wander around, now bored of your phone. As they do, they catch sight of the man you’ve kept an eye on yawning in a big stretch. What this yawn has you so captivated by is the sliver of skin his stretch reveals, and the curly brown treasure trail that peeks from just above the hem of his low sitting jeans.

Your mouth floods with saliva. With your mouth agape and eyes subtly widened, you can’t help but gawk at him. Something about the way you suddenly picture yourself pulling him into the bathroom to nuzzle into his hair takes you aback just a little bit.

Time slows down for you, stretching into hours, but it's only seconds. Finally, as his body relaxes from the stretch you turn your eyes back to his face, hoping he didn’t see your fleeting glance. Startlingly, his eyes are already on yours. This time you can’t find it in you to look away in embarrassment. As if reading your mind, he smirks right at you, and you swear his brown eyes darken a shade.

This time for sure, he caught you. He doesn’t seem to care one way or the other, arms crossing over his chest as he keeps his smug expression right on you.

It’s hard to resist the smile as you go back to your phone, promising to yourself that you will remember his face for as long as you can.

-

Eddie thanks Gareth for dropping him off at the hospital, gritting his teeth at the slight pain stretching his torso gives him.

As he wanders into the hospital, his eyes take in the crowded waiting room and he groans, wishing the wound wasn’t so fucking deep.

He got stabbed. He got fucking stabbed. Wayne is going to kill him when he finds out he got into a fight, especially one where knives were in the crossfire. He couldn’t even say how the situation got so heated so quickly, just another fight in a parking lot after a deal goes sour.

The guy pulled a fucking knife on him, pushed it into his torso and ran off with the goods before Eddie could even realize he had been harmed.

All for fucking weed. Wasn’t even cocaine!

It takes a stupid amount of time for him to finally get to the nurse. She tells him to sit down for his vitals, and he refuses, wanting to show the wound and get it out of the way.

He lifts his shirt at her request, showing the darkened gauze and hissing as she takes a closer look at the wound when it’s removed. Eddie realizes the irony of exposing his chest in the triage, looking up to face the windows that allow other patients to see through.

He does a quick scan of the room, no one having seemed to notice how he’s shirtless. No one, but you. He saw you when he walked in, you were on your phone with one earbud in as you tapped your feet to whatever beat you were listening to. He thought you were cute, his mouth twitching in a smile as he notices you’re cradling one arm across your chest.

It couldn’t have been confused with zoning out, your mouth in a small O shape you openly stare at him. The look you have on your face is enough to turn Eddie on a little, having the urge to caress your face as you look up at him with those same wide eyes. His mouth twitches as he thinks of it, the thought enough to distract him from the shooting pain in his chest.

Your eyes dart away as soon as it registers that he’s looking back at you. His smile widens even more as you sink in your seat, your eyes glazing over as you scroll through your phone. Made him want to embarrass you more, in much worse ways.

After the nurse takes his vitals, he’s instructed to sit down, thanking some deity that the seat across from you is freed. You’re keeping yourself distracted, much to his dismay, so kicks his shoe to grab your attention, placing it on his other knee.

It works as well as he hopes, your eyes flickering up to him. He can’t help but look as if he can’t be bothered. In the corner of his eye, you look back to your own phone, biting your lip.

Eddie spends the next little bit getting your attention however he can, wondering how much it takes for your eyes to wander back to him. By trial and error, not much. He turns on a heavy metal band, nodding his head enthusiastically to the loud drum beats.

As time goes on, he gets more bored and waits impatiently for his name to be called. He figured stitches would be a priority, no? It’s past his bedtime, he decides, as he yawns a big stretch, despite the pain he causes for himself.

As he does, he catches the way your eyes are glued to him, particularly the strip of skin his shirt lifts to show. In real time, Eddie witnesses your eyes glaze over and how your teeth nervously graze your bottom lip. Whatever was on your mind, he desperately wanted to know, mesmerized at the way your throat swallows.

Finally, you make eye contact with him, and Eddie needs to let you know how much he just saw, your lust for him clear as day. He can’t lie, the feeling is entirely mutual, the look on your face is something he wants to see over and over as he rails— he’s getting ahead of himself.

Instead, he opts for a smirk, admiring the way your pretty eyes hold his gaze this time. He relaxes back into his chair, daring you to say something as he smiles with a hint of satisfaction…and all the cockiness his body can handle.

You shyly look back at your phone, failing to hide the smile that invades your face. It takes Eddie a moment to gain the courage, but he finally decides he can’t let you go if he's nursing a hard on in the fucking waiting room from your gaze alone.

By the time he finds a pen and paper to give your number, he’s writing it down when the nurse calls your name.

Eddie sighs, watching your ass in those jeans as you walk away. Just his luck.

-

As the new year passes, the memory of the hot stranger in the waiting room fades, much to your dismay.

The very night you had a dream where he meets you in some sort of dark room, tugging down your jeans you were wearing and wrapping those hands around your neck as he fucked you from behind.

Your hyperventilating mixed with the way your cunt spasmed as you came woke you up, taking a minute to catch your breath. That morning you groaned in frustration, wanting nothing more but to track him down.

Days passed and soon you’re in the grocery store, arm still wrapped for another week as you walk around the store for some basics. Milk, eggs, bread, all on your mother’s tab, of course. You were two seconds away from pushing your small cart to the checkout counter when you remember you're out of mouthwash.

As you try to decide whether to grab the one you liked which was not on sale or the one that was, a set of footsteps pass and settle right next to you, the customer also assessing mouth hygiene products.

The person's foot tapped, and by reflex you switch your glance down to the sound, and immediately recognize the boots. Your head moves up so fast you swear you give yourself whiplash to his face, facing the shaggy locks you found yourself obsessed with that night in the ER.

“Oh shit” you say out loud, before you could even stop it.

His eyes flicker to yours and recognize you off the bat. His smile gives way to deep dimples. He’s exactly as hot as you remember, if not more.

Of course, you can’t find it in yourself to assume he recognizes you, even if his eyes spell it out for you. “Sorry, I-I just remember you from the ER last month. How’s that stab wound?”

He chuckles, something that makes your legs clench together. “Uh, it’s better.” He comments, lifting his shirt to demonstrate. Is it unnecessary for Eddie to show his stitches? Absolutely. Did he do it for the visual reaction he missed so much? Also, yes.

Unfortunately, his bare waist is gone as soon as it appears, barely giving you a second to take in the purple stitches. You bite your lip as you glance at his face, his smirk displayed almost driving a whimper out of you.

“How’s your arm?”

“What?” You ask, incredibly distracted by the everything about him.

He chuckles pointing to the wrapped arm you can’t use as you shopped but to push the cart. “Oh, one more week then I’m free.” You comment, indicating the gauze.

“That’s good.” He comments, switching his glance back to the toothbrushes he was glancing at earlier.

How are you already messing this up? Might as well cut your losses. “Alright, nice seeing you, again.”

“Whoa, whoa.” He says, grabbing at your uninjured arm before you make your hasty exit. Your eyes peer at him curiously, wondering what he could’ve possibly wanted. “Here,”

His hands move to the leather jacket and grab a folded piece of paper to hand out to you. “What’s that?”

“My number” he answers, stating the obvious. “Shoot me a text, call me, I don’t care. Just do it. Please.”

“You’re really giving your number on a piece of paper?” You ask, tilting your head and forgetting your nervousness for two seconds. “What is this, 1986?”

He laughs, deep and whole, and for some reason it causes a heart palpitation. “Yeah, I guess I am. I planned on giving it to you at the ER, but the nurse whisked you away before I could.”

“Huh?” You ask, your brain short circuiting.

He laughs again as you accept the number, your hands holding onto it tightly as if it might disappear. He picks a toothbrush, seemingly at random and examines it, shrugging as he tosses it into his basket. “Call me,” he says, winking, and walks away from where he came from.

As he walks away, his cologne invades your senses, breath stuttering as you breathe him in. Oh, you are definitely calling him.

As soon as you’re checked out, you find yourself having to use the bathroom, so you wander to the back of the store and down the hall where the single unisex bathroom is.

It’s locked, so you check your phone as you wait, leg shaking to distract yourself from the need. When the bathroom door opens, you look up to face the patron and your brain deflates.

“Holy shit.” You gasp, facing the kind stranger, whose name you learned is Eddie from the number he gave you. You stare at one another, taking each other in, your breath heavy and your heartbeat in your ears. Why were you here, again?

Instantaneously, his hands are grabbing at the fabric of your winter jacket, tugging you forward as he places his lips on yours. Your bags drop from your hands as you gasp in surprise, your brain taking a moment to catch up.

As soon as it does, you grab onto his jacket and kiss him back, meeting his enthusiasm feverishly. His tongue darts out to meet yours, you accept it wholeheartedly, taking in how weak his lips alone make you feel.

Eddie starts to pull you backwards and into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you’re pushed up against the wall, whimpering as he moves his body against you. “Fuck.” He whispers against your lips, taking a moment to catch his breath.

You hum in response, lips reaching for him again. As you do, your hands sneak past his jacket and onto his t-shirt, clutching at the fabric as you finally feel up his torso.

“Nuh uh.” He tsks, pulling back from you. When you pout, he laughs and gives you a look of pity. “I just gotta know one thing, there, sweetheart.”

“Anything.” You promise, not knowing what you’re getting into. You just wanted his lips back on yours.

“Anything, huh?” He asks, slightly taunting you. “Okay.” He leans down, breathing down your neck as he places his lips by your ear. “What were you thinking about in that waiting room while you ogled me, sweetheart?”

Okay, not that. You sigh in embarrassment, learning he knew exactly what you were thinking while you gawked at his chest, gawked at him.

“Don’t act all embarrassed, now.” He chides, observing how your eyes widen just how he remembered. “Tell me. Tell me and we’ll do every raunchy little thing that pretty brain came up with.” He taps the tip of your nose gently with the pad of his finger. You wish he'd shove it past your lips.

Your eyes widen as the arousal floods the panties you wear. All you can do is breathe hard and attempt to find the words.

“Let me help you.” He says, shifting his weight against you slightly. “Was it my hands down those tight ass jeans you were wearing?” You gasp as his fingers barely graze your jeans’ waistband. “Or even better was my tongue on that wet cunt of yours?” You shake your head no, as much as you wanted both of those things. You didn’t even get that far. “Were you on your pretty knees?” Finally, you nod, confirming exactly what you were thinking about.

“Your cock was down my throat while I nuzzled your…” you trail off, lifting his shirt to see the patch of hair again, “oh my god.”

He chuckles, rewarding you with a wet and dirty kiss. All too soon, he pulls away. “Then what, baby?”

Your mind is dumb, trying to come up with it. “Then…then you bent me over and fucked me—” you whine as his knee bucks up between your legs and makes harsh contact with your cunt, “with your hand around my throat.”

“Jesus Christ,” he swears, teeth gritted as he gives you a look at screams with lust. “Believe me, if you asked, I would’ve.”

“Yeah?” You ask, licking your lips as your head leans back into the door. “What about your cut?”

“To hell with my cut! I had a pretty girl practically giving me the eyes, you think I care about some little scratch?”

You stare at him in disbelief, your body and breaths stilling for a minute. “Then do it.”

Eddie smirks at you, and you stare at his pretty pink lips as he leans in and kisses you, both impossibly dirty and sweet simultaneously. Eddie’s knee contacts your cunt again, this time forcing a moan out your lips. Blindly you move your hand down his chest, finally gripping the hard-on straining against the fabric of his jeans.

He gives you his first moan, a sound that opens the floodgates. “Wanna get on those knees for me, baby?”

You nod, giving one last kiss to the spot where his jaw meets his neck. Slowly, you kiss your way down his body where finally you find yourself face to face with the cock that’s pushing its way out of his pants. You fumble with the button for a second before you finally reveal him, and it’s so much better than you could’ve imagined.

So much bigger, too.

You smile up at him through your eyelashes, grateful for fates allowing you in the same place at the same time. He places his hand under your chin, licking his lips as he examines your expression of desire. “Suck my cock, baby.”

You eye his treasure trail, dipping your nose into it as you inhale his musk, uninjured hand wrapping around his thick girth. You mewl at the scent; the aroma is even better than you had imagined. One of his large hands slides itself gently along your cheek, his long thumb stroking at the apple of your sweet smile. You stare up at him, kissing the underside of the head of his cock with wet lips. Your tongue pokes out, flat as you lick it slowly, taking your sweet time, admiring the way he lets out whimpers.

“Oh…shit.”

This urges you to wrap your lips around the head, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck on it gently. You take your lips off him, spitting the excess saliva in your mouth onto his shaft, your hand slowly moves up and down, jerking his length to spread the slick along his cock. The shine is pretty, the spit accentuating the pink blush.

“Pretty cock,” you compliment him, laughing breathily as you go cross-eyed just staring at it. “Tastes better than I thought it would.”

“Did you think about tasting my cock, sweet girl?”

You wrap your lips around him again, bobbing your head up and down as you confirm what he asked with a simple hum. He’s big, the tip hitting the back of your mouth and that wasn’t even half of it. You choke on him, the guttural sounds echoing loudly against the tiled walls. A want of more of him in your mouth invades your mind, not tasting nearly enough of him.

You attempt to take in more of him, choking on it even more but struggling to, despite the desperate need. “Settle down, sweet girl,” he mutters, harshly brushing his fingers against your cheek as he peers down at you. “Relax your throat. Take all those tense muscles and relax ‘em.” You think about it, letting those reflexes remain tense to rest. You’re holding back more saliva, but you fail to realize it until your mouth is flooded with spit, overflowing past the barrier of your lips. “Oh, good girl.”

It's alien but mind numbingly arousing as you feel him move down your throat, moaning around him. His fingers comb through your hair, and roughly move against your scalp. “That’s it, breathe through your nose, sweets.”

The heel of his palms rest on your forehead, moving you up and down his cock. You find it stupidly easy to submit to him, the tip hitting roughly against the back of your throat. His groans are louder than the guck, guck, guck that are hitting wall to wall against the tiles. He’s brutal about it, increasing his speed from 0 to 100 quick as a thought.

Hot tears spill over your water line down your cheeks, trailing the makeup you wear down to your throat. Your hands weave themselves against the cotton of his t-shirt, fighting to keep letting him fuck your throat. “You’re so damn good at this, sweetheart, pretty little mouth working so well.”

He finally lets go, poking his cock against the inside of your cheek one last time, appreciating the swell as the glistening from your tears shine on your face. He uses his thumb to lift your chin up to him, his darkened eyes raking over your face. His pink lips parted, his dilated pupils, the heaving of his chest, there’s nothing you’d want more than to earn this gaze again. “C’mere.”

He lifts you by your chin up to kiss you, dirtily lacing his tongue against yours. “What a good girl you are, taking it so well.” A smile lights up your face from his praise. He tugs you back in for another one, a hum vibrating against his lips. A hand of his trails down your body, single handedly unbuttoning your jeans. “Good work like that deserves a reward, hmm?”

His large hand moves past the opened fly and works itself against your panties. A gasp escapes your mouth only at the touch of his fingers on your covered folds, mewling as he keeps his eyes trained on yours. He’s not even really moving them against you, but just his touch gives you some of the pressure you needed. “Christ, you’re wet,” he comments, dipping his head to work his tongue against your pulse. “Choking on my cock really got you off, huh?”

You nod, eagerly agreeing with him. “So big.”

He smirks, pressing pressure on your clothed folds, in small circles. “You like my big cock, huh? Is it as big as you thought it would be?”

“Bigger,” you gasp, hands grabbing on any clothes he wears anxiously.

His finger easily moves the fabric aside, finger attaching itself right to your clit. The pleasure is good, eyes fluttering closed as it grows startlingly fast. “Fuck,” you swear, your voice rough. “Eddie.”

“Hmm, close?” You nod, despite the embarrassment that floods your senses. “I haven’t even started to touch you yet, baby. I still wanted to feel that tight pussy wrapped around my fingers.”

His actions mimic his words, inserting two fingers hastily into you, moving them expertly as they fuck you. With how wet you are, his two digits slide in easily. They’re long, reaching a depth in you that you could only dream about. You gush around him, music to his ears as your whimpers grow more and more pathetic. His thumb touches your clit again, rubbing frantically.

You gasp, mewling as his teeth start to nibble skillfully along the length of your neck. “Oh my god.”

Eddie’s tongue licks a sinfully long stripe up your neck to your ear, his voice intense and husky. “Cum all over my fingers, sweetheart, make a fucking mess for me.” Your hand tangles into his hair, gripping at his root. You stutter through a sentence of whines and half-finished words, failing to convey how good his fucking fingers make you feel. “So pathetic, huh?”

The words that you wanted to say were, you make me feel so good. Instead, you say, “M-ak-m, so-so good.”

Your good arm wraps itself around his shoulders, pulling his body against yours. Against your better judgment, your other hand moves his chin so your lips kiss his desperately, wanting every wet touch of them on yours. Your whimper into his mouth, pussy fluttering around his fingers as you finally cum, drenching his fingers just as he had requested.

“There she is,” he mutters, his flat palm moving under your jacket and shirt and grazing gently along your bare torso.

It takes you a second to recover from it, still feeling the effects of it throughout your body as it lingers. You unzip your jacket, letting it fall on the bathroom floor. You can’t find it in yourself to care for the moment, but it will find itself in the wash later. As it’s a walk-in bathroom, there are poles next and adjacent to the toilet. Perfect.

“Fuck me?” You ask, eyes glazed over as they reach his.

He chuckles, hands landing on your hips. Your jeans are pushed down your legs, resting just below your knees. “I thought you'd never ask, sweets.”

You grin, pushing his jacket off his shoulders onto the floor. Before it even hits the floor, you grab onto the fabric of his shirt and step backward over your own jacket to pull him across the room to the said metal bar installed on the wall.

His fingers slink into his pocket that’s now down his leg, holding a condom between you and him. You pick it up from his fingers and fling it across the room. “I’m on birth control.”

Eddie’s hands grab under your legs when your back hits the wall, supporting you surprisingly well as your ass rests on his forearms.

He sighs, eyes half mooned as he stares down at you. “My arms are occupied, mind helping me out here?”

You giggle, spitting on your hand and grabbing between the two of you at the cock that keeps brushing against your inner thigh, moving it against your entrance. It slides in easily, the mushroom tip pushing in as two of you moan in sync. Your hand moves to the bar on the wall, starting to help him as you lean some of your weight onto it.

“How is your pussy even better than I thought it’d be?” Eddie asks, gasping in uneven breaths.

“So, so full,” you gasp back, his size far bigger than you’ve ever had. “So big.��

“You’re fucking tight, sweets.” He mutters, jaw dropping as he watches you watching him.

“Move.” You urge him, the stretch too much yet his still hips are driving you crazy. “Need you to move,” It comes out as a pathetic whine and you know it, but you’re long past caring at this point.

“Say no more,” Eddie mutters, starting to move slowly, his hips rolling perfectly against you.

He hits deep and he hits hard. “Just like that! Fuck!”

“Your pussy, fuck, baby, yours is just a new fucking standard!”

You curl into his neck, nipping and starting to mark the pale skin with purple, teeth digging in harder the faster and harder he fucks. You can’t answer his compliment, but the way you tighten around him is confirmation enough that you are in complete agreement with him. It’s like he knows exactly how you like it before you tell him, intuitively knowing you before even has the opportunity to find out.

He watches every reaction you give him carefully, how your legs tighten around his waist, your hands twisting themselves in his shirt, the mewls that leave your mouth mixed with words that you never finish, he takes every hint as gospel. He’s always intuitive to what a partner of his needs, but you’re a special case, every reaction you give him only makes him insatiable for more. The way your eyes roll back in your head is everything he’s ever wanted to see from you and more, never could he have imagined anything like this when you glanced at him in the E.R.

“Fuck, your pussy is so good, I’m gonna cum, sweets,” Eddie moans, fingers digging into your bare thigh, the pressure surely bruising the skin.

“Choke me.” You gasp, voice desperate for him.

“Hands are occupied, babe.” He answers, gruff and brows furrowed.

You tap the bar, using both hands now. “I got it.”

He whines, high-pitched and gorgeous. The kind of whine you listen to on men whimpering audios. Maybe you can make it happen more. Maybe one day he’ll let you worship him for a few hours…the idea is enticing. His large hand wraps itself around your throat, the metal of his rings causing harsh friction on your neck. He admires the way you revel in it, tongue poking out of your mouth like the slut you are for him. “You’re more of a slut than I thought you are, hmm?”

You nod, his strong arm flexed and mouth watering. The drool that slips down your tongue is pure proof of it, dampening your shirt in a little streak.

“What a good little pathetic slut,” he grins, rubbing your jawline with his thumb. His grip tightens, only enough to send stars in your vision.

You tap his arm, begging him for air. “A slut for you.” You gasp, whining for him. “Want your cum, please, please cum in me.”

“Can you beg for me one more time?” He asks, your question almost making him erupt on the spot.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, arms starting to lose their strength. “I wanna be dripping from you, so bad.”

“Yeah, want Daddy’s cum?” he asks, hands gripping into your hair.

Of course, this man has a daddy kink, you couldn’t expect anything less from him. “Yes, Daddy.” You whine, grinning at his hold on you. “Fill me up.”

“Baby, Daddy’s gonna fill you up—Jesus Christ.” He interrupts himself, cutting himself off as he ruts into you a final, gasping, sweaty time. He twitches in you, feeling him fill you up as some of starts to trickle out of your pussy and down your thigh.

His hand lets go of your hair, wrapping around your torso as he pulls you into an embrace. This is the kind of sex that takes time to recover from, both out of breath, his dick still twitching. A smile takes over your features, invading every muscle in your face.

“So, think you’re gonna call me?” He asks, hand moving itself under your shirt to gently brush against your bare skin.

“I’ll definitely text you.” You answer, chuckling at the annoyed look he shoots you when he pulls back in your embrace. “Oh, come on.”

He chuckles, and for some odd reason the last thing you expect from him is another kiss, his lips working marvelously against yours. They’re much gentler, much sweeter than you expected, yet everything you’d crave from him.

“What was that?” You ask, watching his two gorgeous brown eyes.

“What, you think I’m gonna let you go after that?” He asks, half a smile on his face. “Wanna come to my place later?”

“Later?” You ask, one eyebrow quirked at him.

“I’m heading home right now, wanna join me?” He kisses the top of your eyebrow, your cheekbone, your jawline, your still covered shoulder. “I kind of need to spend a few hours with my nose buried in that pretty little cunt of yours.”

Your jaw drops, your mouth drying completely from his admission. “Y-yeah, th-that sounds nice.”

He laughs at your stutter; your pussy having tightened around him upon the mention of it.

Three knocks hit the door, loud and abrupt. “Hurry the fuck up!”

You look at one another with wide eyes, laughing at the disruption. He backs up, his cock leaving your entrance being a loss you whimper at. “Don’t worry, sweets. I will fuck you more than enough times to satisfy that need.”

“Dunno,” you start, legs shaky as you land on them, “I think I’m pretty insatiable at this point.”

“Then we’ll just have to keep going, won’t we?” Eddie asks, pulling his jeans and boxers up his legs.

“And if I’m never satisfied?” you ask, tilting your head as you pull up your own pants.

“Well then I guess we’ll just never stop.”

You grin at his answer, biting your lip excitedly.

The silence is comfortable as you pick your jackets back up and the bags on the ground. His fingers intertwined with yours, leading you down the hall past the angry customer and out the front door of the store.

He offers to eventually take you back to your car when you need to go back home, wanting more time with you even if it’s the mere ten minutes that it takes to get to his apartment.

Not one moment is wasted as he yanks you to his bedroom, pushing you onto his bed. As promised, your jeans are yanked down your legs quick as can be, burying his nose deep in your cunt.

Only after the eighth orgasm does Eddie yank off your clothes, followed by his, finally skin against skin as he rails you in every position, even the ones you didn’t know were possible.

You might have to thank your brother for spraining your wrist, it’s the best thing he’s ever done for you.

-

Thanks for reading! I read every comment and tag you leave and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

taglist for Waiting Room Problems: @skrzydlak @delicatechaos @ali-r3n @suckerz @cam-peggio @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @emxxblog @lilrubles @dandelionnfluff @babygirl229 @let-love-bleeds-red @kurdtbean

[seoktized]

☆ riize twt links <3 (nsfw)

trying smth new!! lmk if i should make more of these ^_^ i wanna get better at writing actual smut lololol

MINORS DNI (EXPLICIT)

ot7 riize

»»————-　♡　————-««

explicit content under the cut

shotaro - link

munch shotaro who would literally !!!! eat you out all day if he could!! loves to hear your moans and how you pull on his hair as he gives you orgasm after orgasm 💔 n he’s definitely rutting against the bed after seein his baby all splayed out for him

eunseok - link

i will never get over brat tamer!eunseok like omg smash… you wanna act out.. BET he’s bending you over and spanking you until you’re crying on his leg and apologizing for being a brat. he’s so mean tho, even if you apologize 1000 times, he’s still gonna punish you (pulling his hand away when you’re abt to cum, not giving you his cock, and obviously more spanking :P)

sungchan - link

SUNGCHAN HAS A SIZE KINK!! *gets dragged off stage* … idc.. LOVES seein how small you look under him. how you stare at his cock wondering if it’ll fit. he goes slow at first to make sure he doesn’t hurt you but as doing as you give him the green light, he’s Going to ruin you on his cock. no doubt about it. 10/10 smash

wonbin - link

i think wonbin would lovee the two of you getting off together .. you always send him videos of you playing w/ yourself while he’s gone and he cums so hard at those. so when you propose the idea he is all over it!!! swears he’s in heaven while he watches you play with your puffy pussy in front of him 💔

seunghan - link

firm believer that seunghan is an ass man ☝🏽 doggy is like his go-to he loves watching your ass bounce as he thrusts into you. honestly any position that gives him a view of your ass is his fave!! (and to elaborate even more even if you guys are just around the house or smth he’ll grab your ass or smack it as he walks by) seunghan ass man TRUST

sohee - link

sohee lovveeess your thighs so when he asked you could you give him a thigh job you obviously said yes!! at first you were leading but poor baby got too impatient and decided to do it himself. 10/10 he would do it again <3

anton - link

this is so anton!!! he’s so desperate to cum so his thrusts are so sporadic :( i think anton lovvveeess boobs!! (he loves all of you but boobs are liek his fav) tony is LATCHED onto them giving you so much pleasure that your head is spinning from how good it is!! the way he’s thrusting into you making you see stars! you end up coming so hard + anton follows behind (safe sex is ideal!!) he cums so much inside of you leaving you filled to the BRIM

[wvyik]

click, play, stay. d.w. °˖➴

dean winchester x fem! reader

ᰔ summary: you walk in on dean watching porn, and the girl? looks just like you. one thing leads to another, and it gets way too real.

⤿ warnings: mdni!! explicit content, best friends to lovers?, oral sex, p in v, breeding kink, swearing, porn watching, dub-consent (you did walk in on him), spoiler alert: dean is NOT your average best friend, accidental discovery, intentional fucking, you wanted slowburn? lol, no. welcome to chaos.

⤿ notes: new format?? mhm! also, i’m pretty sure this is the exact moment i crossed all boundaries. but hey, it’s dean. enjoy… or don’t. but you will. you’ll definitely enjoy.

You were supposed to be asleep.

The bunker was dead quiet, the only sounds the soft hum of overhead lights and the occasional creak of ancient pipes. You tiptoed out of your room in nothing but your usual sleep fit— those stupid little pink shorts and that baggy tee with a faded band logo, barely awake, just craving something cold to drink.

What you didn’t expect to find was him.

Dean. Lying on his bed, legs sprawled out like he owned the place — which, to be fair, he kinda did; laptop propped open on his thighs, the soft slap of skin echoing off the walls, low moans slipping from his lips like sin.

Your brain didn’t catch up right away. You blinked, thinking maybe it was just some dumb movie. Something graphic on late-night cable. But then he shifted. Jaw tight, chest heaving, one hand moving under the thin gray waistband of his sweats, and the sound from his laptop speakers made your stomach drop straight to hell.

Wet. Rhythmic. Desperate.

You froze in the doorway.

It was porn.

Very, very intense porn.

You were about to turn and bolt when you actually looked at the screen— and saw her.

Saw you.

Or, okay, not you exactly. But enough like you that your breath caught in your throat. Same hair. Same curves. Same little whimpering gasp when the guy in the video; who had messy hair, broad shoulders, and a voice that sounded suspiciously like Dean’s, gripped her thighs and pushed in deeper.

Your eyes went wide.

And that’s when Dean looked up.

He didn’t panic. Didn’t scramble to close the laptop or hide what he was doing.

Instead, he smirked.

“Well, well,” he drawled, voice gravelly from arousal. “Didn’t think you were the sneaky type.”

Your whole body went numb. Your knees locked in place and your voice came out squeaky and stunned:

“I—I didn’t mean to— Dean, I didn’t know you were— what the fuck!”

“Mhm,” he said, not even flinching. So casual. One hand finally moving away from his waistband, resting on his stomach like he wasn’t still hard as hell beneath the fabric. “Didn’t know I had an audience tonight. You like what you saw?”

“That girl looked like me,” you whispered.

He arched a brow.

“Did she?”

“Dean.” Your voice trembled, shame twisting in your chest. “Why would you… why would you watch that?”

He clicked the laptop shut like it was nothing.

“Why d’you think?” he said, standing up slow, that cocky saunter in his step, towering over you before you could even think of moving. “I’ve had to sit around for months watchin’ you prance around here in those tiny fuckin’ shorts, crawlin’ into my bed when you get nightmares, sleepin’ next to me like you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me.”

Your mouth opened. Closed. Your brain had shut down.

“You ever think about me like that?” he asked, voice dropping an octave. “You ever get curious what I sound like when I’m inside you?”

You choked on your own breath.

“Jesus, Dean—”

He stepped even closer. Barely a foot between your bodies now.

“Don’t get all shy now, sweetheart. You walked in. You stayed. You looked at that screen and kept watching.” His eyes dragged over your body, slow and hot and possessive. “So if you’re gonna act like a good girl, tell me the truth.”

You blinked up at him, wide-eyed, heart racing.

“…Was it really about me?”

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear, voice dark and full of sin,

“Every fuckin’ time.”

You swallow.

His breath brushes your skin.

You hate the part of you that wants more.

“So what happens now?” you whisper, voice barely there.

He grins, but it’s not playful anymore. It’s dark. Focused. Hungry.

“Now,” he murmurs, “you tell me if you want this. ‘Cause once we start, baby, I’m not gonna pretend I don’t wanna know how you sound when you moan anymore.”

Your whole body lights up like a goddamn fire alarm.

You nod— slow, shy, unsure, and Dean’s hands find your hips, big and hot and grounding you before you can float away from the sheer weight of this moment.

“Fuck,” he mutters, like it’s physically painful. “You’re actually sayin’ yes to this.”

You look up at him, wide-eyed. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

He lets out a sharp laugh— shocked. His grip tightens, and his mouth brushes your cheek before he growls into your ear,

“You’re my best fuckin’ friend, sweetheart. The girl I’ve been tryin’ not to fuck for years. But now? You’re standing here all pretty and wet for me after catching me jerk off to a video of someone who looks just like you.”

He steps back just long enough to grab the laptop. “So we’re gonna watch it again. Together.”

You blink.

“Dean—what?”

“No no,” he says, pulling you into his room, sitting down on the bed and tugging you into his lap like it’s the most normal thing in the world. His hard length presses up against your ass as you straddle him. “You’re gonna watch what I was watching. And you’re gonna feel exactly what I felt.”

The video starts again.

The moans fill the room.

Your cheeks burn.

His hands start roaming, slow at first. Just resting on your thighs. Then sliding up under your shirt, thumbs grazing over your hips. “See that?” he murmurs, mouth brushing your neck. “How he’s got her pinned down? How deep he’s fucking her?”

You nod, breath stuttering.

“That’s what I was thinkin’ about,” he says, pressing a kiss to your pulse. “Pushing you back on this bed, spreading those pretty legs, and just ruining you.”

You let out a shaky little gasp.

“You always get this wet just from watchin’?” he teases, fingers sliding under the waistband of your shorts. “Or is it me?”

You can’t speak. He doesn’t need you to.

One thick finger dips into your panties and he groans— low and deep, like he’s just tasted something addictive.

“Ohh, fuck, sweetheart…” He nips at your jaw. “This pussy was made for me.”

You whimper.

“You want me to fill you up like that?” he asks, gaze flicking from the screen to you. “You want me to make you so full of me, you’ll be feelin’ it for days?”

You nod helplessly.

And then he’s flipping you beneath him, pushing your shirt up, yanking your shorts down— his mouth hot and hungry as he kisses down your belly, his voice ragged,

“You better be fuckin’ sure, baby. ‘Cause once I start… I’m not stopping ‘til I’m all the way in and you’re begging me to put a baby in you.”

You don’t even get a chance to breathe before Dean’s dragging your panties down your thighs, slow but greedy, like he wants to savor it, wants to remember what you look like like this forever. Laying on his bed, flushed and wide-eyed, already soaked for him.

And he hasn’t even touched you properly yet.

The video’s still playing on the laptop beside you. Your own soft moans mixing with hers, the sound of skin against skin driving Dean insane.

“Fuck, baby, look at you,” he mutters, dragging his mouth across your inner thigh, leaving open-mouthed kisses. “Shakin’ like a virgin on prom night.”

You let out a breathy little whimper, thighs twitching.

“I’m not—”

“No, but this pussy’s mine,” he cuts you off, voice all grit and possession. “And I’m gonna treat her like she’s never been touched before.”

And then his tongue’s on you.

Oh. My. God.

No teasing. No slow warmup. Dean dives in like he’s starved— like he’s been dreaming about this for years and now that he has you, he’s gonna take his fucking time.

His tongue licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, then circles your clit until your hips buck against his mouth. “Dean—Dean, holy shit—”

He groans into you like he can’t help it. Like you taste like heaven and he wants to drown in it.

One thick finger slides into you, curling just right, his mouth never stopping. You’re shaking. Moaning. Whimpering his name like a prayer.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he growls, pulling back just enough to speak, his chin slick with you. “You’re squeezin’ me so good, baby. So fuckin’ tight for me.”

He slides a second finger in. Pumps slow. Deep. Crooks them just enough to hit that spot that makes your eyes roll back.

You gasp, fisting the sheets.

And then he leans up, hovering over you, eyes dark as sin.

“Wanna know somethin’ sick?” he rasps, rubbing slow circles on your clit. “When I came earlier? I imagined this pussy. You— on your back, beggin’ me to put a baby in you.”

You let out a choked moan.

“Dean—”

“You gonna let me, sweetheart?” He kisses your neck, your collarbone, your lips—hot, messy kisses between every filthy word. “Gonna let me fuck you raw? Fill you up so deep it sticks?”

You nod like you’re drunk on him.

“Please.”

He groans—feral now; like that one word snapped the leash clean off.

He yanks his sweats down, and his cock springs free. Thick, flushed, leaking. You’ve never seen anything so hot. He lines himself up with your entrance, and pauses, just for a breath.

“You sure?” he asks, voice tight.

You reach up, grab his face, and whisper, “Dean, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind.”

That’s all it takes.

He slams into you— slow but deep, dragging it out, like he wants you to feel every inch.

You cry out, nails digging into his back. He groans like he’s dying.

“Fuuuck,” he hisses, burying himself to the hilt. “So fuckin’ tight, baby. You were made for me.”

His hips start to move. Slow at first, grinding into you, heavy and rough and intentional. He kisses you like he owns you. He fucks you like he’s claiming you.

And the whole time?

He doesn’t stop talking.

“You feel that?” he pants. “That’s my cock stretchin’ you open, fillin’ you where no one else ever will again.”

“I’m gonna fuck you full, sweetheart. Breed you so good you’ll feel me for days.”

Your body’s writhing under him— shaking, trembling, your orgasm building like a tidal wave.

“You close?” he growls, thrusting harder, snapping his hips against yours. “C’mon, baby. Cream on my cock. Show me how bad you want it.”

And when you fall apart?

It’s a wreck.

You clench around him like a vice, crying out his name, and he loses it— slamming into you once, twice more before burying himself deep and groaning, “Fuck—take it—take all of it, baby—fuckin’ take my cum—”

He holds you tight, grinding into you as he empties himself inside, thick and hot and endless. You’re both panting, covered in sweat, trembling from the aftershocks.

He doesn’t pull out.

Just collapses on top of you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Told you we’d make a better video,” he mumbles against your skin.

You laugh, breathless. “Holy shit.”

He grins.

“Round two?”

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tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library. ⊹₊⟡

[moonsgemini]

cinnamon girl - rafe cameron

summary: hating rafe cameron was easy to do when you were both teenagers, but after years a part and time spent thinking about one another one thing leads to another. Secret rendezvous between kook prince and kook princess ensue, finding any spare minute to be with each other without the judgey eyes of outer banks.

warnings: 18+, minors dni, fem reader, she/her, p in v, praise kink, semi public sex (a bunch of people are downstairs), fingering, oral f receiving, dirty talk, sneaking around, secret relationship, cussing, alcohol, enemies to lovers kinda

wc: 3.5k

an: another smutty smut. I have had this in my drafts for a bit & I just needed to finish it. It started out as being inspired by cinnamon girl by lana but I like don’t know what happened. also two posts in one day ???? who am I.

masterlist

In high school when y/n read Romeo and Juliet she fell in love with the tragic romance. She was astounded that love could be so intense and passionate. So much so that they were sneaking around behind everyone’s backs and the miscommunication ultimately leading to their deaths.

When she was sixteen she met Rafe Cameron. When her father introduced her to the tall blonde she didn’t think he would eventually be her Romeo. Especially not since he didn’t even smile or show the slightest interest in her. Their fathers had recently worked on a business deal together and had got along so well they wanted their families to get together.

She knew who he was and what he was like. Rumors run rampant on the figure eight. He constantly had snarky comments and remarks to make at her. Whether it be about her outfit, her likes, and especially about the boys she dated. y/n would be talking to Sarah about the boy she just went on a date with and Rafe would butt in with his two cents. He was a year older than her and he always made sure to act like he knew better because he was older.

“Fabian? You do know he like has dated half the cheer and volleyball teams,” Rafe scoffed as he stood in front of her and Sarah who were sat on the pool chairs outside. He had overheard y/n talking about the new guy she was seeing and Rafe couldn’t believe who the guy was. He also couldn’t believe she was dating at all.

Y/n looked at him with a glare, “I don’t remember asking for your input.”

“You could really use it though. Seems like you’re pretty fucking clueless at the fact that you’re a lot better than that asshole,” He rolled his eyes annoyed at the fact she couldn’t see how this escapade will end in heart break. He was only looking out for her so he doesn’t understand why she was so annoyed.

She chuckled bitterly, “Yeah like you care, besides I can find out for myself Rafe. I don’t need you telling me what’s good for me or not.”

Rafe rolled his eye because to him he did know what was good for her and Fabian was not. “Well when he ends up hurting you I’ll be ready to tell you I told you so,” He smirked taking a sip of his beer and walking away.

Sarah scoffed muttering, “Hate him.”

Y/n sighed watching him walk away and talk to her dad, “Couldn’t agree with you more.”

The first few years she knew Rafe she hated him. As much as you could hate him. He had always been extremely handsome, something she definitely noticed, and as he got older he became even hotter. In front of her parents he was charming and they interpreted his cocky demeanor as confidence. Whenever she complained about the Cameron boy being a prick they said they liked that Rafe knew what he wanted and always went for it, something that y/n could learn from him.

After she went away to college these family dinners became much smaller with only the parents and younger siblings. The kids having grown up and gone their own ways. Rafe was always on the mainland taking care of his dad’s business. Sarah had gone off to college so it was practically an empty nest. Occasionally during holiday breaks Sarah and y/n would join them for game night or dinner but Rafe still wasn’t around much.

She couldn’t lie and say he didn’t swim in her thoughts every now and then. Okay maybe more often then she’d like. Especially when he’d post on instagram and his bright smile would infect her mind on the nights she couldn’t fall asleep. She wondered if he ever thought about her but she doubted it since they never liked each other.

Rafe thought about her every day. Whenever he’d see her dad he’d find a way to bring her into conversation. He knew she was coming back soon and he made a note in his calendar to free his schedule on family dinner day because he wanted to see her. He needed to see her. Even if she probably didn’t want to see him because he remembers her hatred for him when they were teenagers. It makes a smirk appear on his lips as he thought about y/n rolling her eyes and sending witty comebacks his way.

-

It was winter break of her junior year of college when she made if back to the outer banks.

Y/n was surprised to see him drinking a glass of scotch with her dad and Ward as she walked downstairs. Her family was hosting dinner that time. Her first thought when she spotted hime was person he was even more handsome. His boyish look almost completely gone now that he was a man. She noticed he had been working out because his chest and shoulders seemed broader. Could have even gotten taller?

“Hey there she is,” Ward said as she made it all the way down the steps.

She smiled politely and joked, “Here I am, hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

Rafe smirked taking a sip from his glass. After Ward asked her more questions about college and the internship she was starting on the mainland that following summer. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her as she talked to his dad. Seeing him had felt different that time. There was something different in the air.

During dinner they both stole glances at each other. Sometimes when she’d catch him staring at her he wouldn’t look away. Locking his eyes with her smirking and sipping on his second glass of scotch. His long fingers wrapped around the glass grabbed her attention. She watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed. No guys she knew in college drank scotch, because none of them were men like him.

He couldn’t believe how much more beautiful she had gotten in the last three years. She was a woman now and she held herself with so much more confidence than when she was seventeen. Rafe liked that.

“Oh honey give Rafe a tour of the new wine cellar. It is so magnificent our architect is amazing, maybe you’ll like him for a new Cameron employee,” Y/n’s mom said to the young adults who had been eye fucking for the last forty minutes. Y/n’s mom had been feeling her second glass of wine now which led to her being all giddy and generous. It’s always what her mom did. So whenever they went to charity events her mom just needed a glass of wine to sign a check for $10,000.

She was also an avid wine collector so for the last year they had been building a wine cellar under the house. It turned out beautiful. All wood and the lighting was moody. There were racks of wines all around the room and a few in the middle creating ailse. There were also a few big wooden support beams.

“Sure mom. Follow me,” Y/n said nodding her head towards the back. He smirked standing up and following her a few paces behind so he could stare at her back side. She led him out to the side of the house where the entrance was. If her mom knew what she ultimately helped happen she’d kill the both of them. Mostly for committing such a sin next to her most prized possessions.

Ten minutes into the tour Rafe had y/n pinned against one of those wooden beams. Her legs wrapped around his waist with her hands in his hair tugging whenever he’d hit that spot she could never reach on her own. No college guy she had been with was ever able to hit that spot either. Their breaths mixed together as their faces were close together, y/n’s skirt bunched around her waist. One of his hands was under her shirt tweaking her nipple.

His dick inside of her smoothly sliding in and out as he fucked her. Rafe knew he would never forget this moment. Never forget just how wet she had been, all the noises she was making sounding heavenly.

The first time was erotic. Years of built up sexual tension was finally getting released and it felt so good. His hands, his lips, his body felt better than she could ever have imagined.

When they were done Rafe kissed her, lips slotting naturally with her like they always belonged there. She was worried it was a one time thing but he wasn’t acting like it. That bubble of anxiety in her chest popping as he continued to be sweet to her. He had slowly pulled out and set her down gently. Tugging her skirt back down and helping her step into her panties he had tugged off in a frenzy. He fixed himself as she fixed her hair and makeup.

“That’s not the last time that’s gonna happen,” He said breaking the silence, “I like you too much to let you go.”

-

Since the first night they hooked up they have been sneaking around behind their families backs seeing each other. Rafe flew and road tripped to her apartment more times that winter and spring than he can count. When she came back for the summer he was practically living at her house. He’d sneak in at night like they were teenagers and he’d sleep over or stay up talking with her until she fell asleep then he’d sneak out. Or sometimes (a lot of times) they’d be doing something else that involved rafe’s mouth on her.

When y/n got her internship he’d meet her for lunch. They’d hangout in secluded areas on the beach and whenever they wanted to have a nice date night they’d stay a few cities over for the weekend to be alone and be a couple in public. For her birthday Rafe took her to the Amalfi coast for a few days where they spent most of the time on a boat, in a pool, or in bed having amazing sex. Y/n told her parents she was going to the lake for the weekend where she’d barely have service. Somehow they believed it.

They kept it a secret not because their families would be upset. It’s the opposite actually, they’d be too excited. Then there would be all this pressure on their relationship. The mom’s and Ward would be urging Rafe to propose because their families merging would make them look incredibly good and powerful in the developing industry. They’d want a huge wedding with a bunch of people they don’t know. There’d start to be talk about grand babies. All of figure eight would be talking about the kook prince and princess dating and on their way to live off their trusts. It would just be too much.

It was the last dinner party of the summer and Y/n was giddy. She hadn’t seen Rafe in two weeks because he had gone away on a business trip with his dad and then she had gone on to see her grandparents in New York. It was the most time they had spent a part in the last four months.

Tonight would be the last night they see each other for another couple weeks while y/n moves into her senior year apartment and settles into school. Rafe knew how important school was to her so he wanted to give her space to settle which she was grateful for because pre law was not easy. It would also be too suspicious if he randomly showed up to help while her parents are there.

This was a big dinner party so it was perfect. Y/n’s parents were hosting so it was all perfect. Every big family on Figure Eight, even the ones who only summer there, was at her house. The house was filled with many distractions since her mother also loved collecting art. No one would see them sneak upstairs to her room, especially with all the wine that’s being consumed.

Rafe had been dreaming about touching her since he last saw her. Oh and when he saw her he didn’t even waste a moment. As soon as he saw an opportunity to drag her upstairs to her bedroom he did. It was when appetizers were brought out and everyone had gathered outside. Y/n smirked the whole time knowing he wanted her as bad as she wanted him. Her short dress definitely did the job it was supposed to when she spotted his hard on when he first grabbed her.

His eagerness showing when he practically slammed her against the inside of the bedroom door. His lips on hers with fervor. They moved expertly against each other. Immediately finding their rhythm, no matter how many times they have each other it’s never enough.

His hands sliding down her waist and slowly going under her sundress. That���s when he feels nothing. She wasn’t wearing any panties. He instantly got harder and groaned into her mouth.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” He mumbled as he began trailing kisses down her neck.

Her hands tugged at his hair, “I missed you Rafey,” she whined not even feeling the slightest bit embarrassed about her eagerness. She had missed him so much.

He began walking her towards the bed. His lips still latching onto any exposed skin on her chest. They kicked their shoes off in the process, Rafe undid a few more buttons of his shirt. His tanned broad chest making her breathing uneven. When her knees hit the end of the bed she sat back crawling backwards towards the pillows. He followed her his knees spreading her legs.

“I missed you baby,” He gently cupped her face and stroked her cheek softly, “I can’t wait to make you cum.”

The soft gesture with the dirty words made her cheeks feel hot. That devilish smirk appearing on Rafe’s face like he knew that would happen. And that’s because he did know. Rafe knew her body and he knows just what to do to make her squirm. He looked too hot for her to even care how dirty he sounded. Sometimes she’d shy away but other times it made her putty in his hands. Y/n reached forward kissing him not so gently. They’d have time for the lovey dovey stuff later.

He began kissing down her body. Her chin then her neck, paying attention to that spot that made her hips jerk up for relief. His hand were gliding up her legs pushing her dress up around her waist in the process.

Rafe kissed her shoulders as he pushed her straps down in a teasing manor. He kissed her collarbones then her chest. Finally moving to her stomach and her pelvic bone. Oh had he missed this. His hands moved to her knees spreading her legs wider.

Y/n’s hands were in his hair already tugging. Giving an even harder tug when he reach forward giving her a teasing lick. She had to cover her mouth with one hand to not be loud.

Rafe wanted to tease her but he just couldn’t resist. He dove right in. His tongue finding her clit immediately, moving his tongue in circles. He alternated between that and licking down her slit. Tongue teasing her entrance. It was all so euphoric.

Her back arched off her bed. Y/n tried her best to keep quiet but a few moans slipped out. She hoped the chatter and music playing downstairs was enough to cover her noises. Rafe hummed against her core making the feeling even more intense.

“Oh god Rafey,” She sighed dreamily, “I missed your mouth. Know just what to do.”

He lives for the praise. It boosted his ego and encouraged him to do better and outdo himself. Hearing her breathy wins and moans muffled by her own hand were making him impossibly hard.

As he sucked and licked her clit he reached around and abruptly slipped a finger into her wet center. Her thighs practically suffocating him as he moved in and out of her touching that perfect spot inside of her. He always made her cum and he always did it fast. Before she met Rafe she had only ever finished with her own hand or vibrator.

“I’m gonna cum!” She whisper shouted.

Rafe moaned, “Cum for me baby.”

It felt like electricity was going through her body as she came. His movements relentless until he knew she was satisfied. He began to slow down as she came down, leaving her with one final lick. He kissed the inside of her thighs softly before crawling up to her again. She pulled him forward needing his lips on hers. She moaned at her taste on his tongue.

“I need to be inside you,” Rafe groaned as he felt one of her hands reach down and palm him through his pants.

“Please fuck me,” She batted her eyelashes at him knowing it always got her what she wanted.

He groaned again before sitting back on his feet so he can unbutton the rest of his shirt. Y/n sat up pulling her dress all the way off. Rafe made quick work of his pants pulling them down his legs.

His member slapped against his stomach, her mouth watering at the sight. Rafe was created with care, everything about him was perfect to her. He grabbed his length pumping it a few times before he rubbed his tip through her folds. Spreading her wetness around, his eyes rolled back at the feeling.

“Oh please please put it in,” She whined, “I need you so bad Rafey.”

“Baby your wish is my command,” He smirked and thrusted into her slowly pushing in inch by inch.

“Yes yes yes yes,” She chanted in pure bliss. Y/n didn’t care how desperate she sounded.

Rafe sighed as he began moving slowly. She was so tight and warm, even better than he remembered. He knew he wasn’t going to last long but he would make sure she came again before he did at all. He hit that spot inside of her that made her eye’s roll back and toes curl.

“Taking me so good my love,” Rafe encouraged as he picked up speed.

He grabbed one of her boobs and brushed his thumb over her hardened nipple. He leaned down and placed the other one in his mouth sucking and licking gently. All of the stimulation had her body feeling like it was on fire. He released it with a pop and went back to capture her lips in his. Y/n’a hands gripped his hair and clawed his back

“I’m gonna cum babe,” She moaned, “Yes right there, oh oh god.”

“Yeah baby cum for me,” He sighed, “Fuck I’m gonna cum too.”

Her eyes rolled back at his words, “Please cum in me, fill me up please please,” she blubbered feeling overwhelmed by the orgasm that was about to take over her body. The sounds of his deck sliding in and out of her wet pussy made him reach the edge. Everything about her was so sexy from the noises she made to the way she looked sprawled out below him.

Her words made him pick up his pace pounding into her. He felt her clench around him knowing she was coming. She moaned and scratched his back as she came. Biting her lip to not let anymore loud noises slip out of her. He came inside of her with a groan. Rafe continued to pump in and out of her slowing down as he came down from his high.

He swore he could cum again just looking at her all fucked out. Her hair all over the place, lipstick smudged and probably all over his face.

After a few minutes of catching their breaths Rafe pulled out gently. A whine leaving her lips at the empty feeling. Rafe got up going to her bathroom to get a towel to clean her up. When he came back he dabbed her center cleaning up.

“I missed you so much Rafe,” Y/n said breaking the silence.

He leaned forward kissing her knee, “I missed you more my love.”

“You think anyone heard?”

He shrugged, “Don’t think so. If they did then oops.”

She laughed, “Don’t say that Rafe, then we will get caught.”

He smirked as he laid next to her again opening his arms as an invitation that she gladly took. Resting her head on his chest and he leg wrapped around his waist. One of his hands stroking her hair and the other rubbing up and down her body slowly feeling all her exposed skin.

“Lets lay a few minutes then get back to hearing my dad talk about business for hours,” Y/n said savoring the feeling of laying with him.

“I love you,” He kissed the crown of her head a few times.

She smiled, “I love you. Sneak over tonight?” She asked looking up at him hopefully.

“Read my mind,” He smirked.

[mountquokka]

100 follower special: You can’t go up

Woosan X fem!reader

Word count: 3,883

Warnings: Co-CEO husbands woosan, dom San, switch Wooyoung, sub reader, jealous receptionist, threesome, mxm, oral (f and m receiving), degradation (slut, cockslut), nicknames (princess, baby, babyboy, love), daddy kink, sir kink, spit roasting, sucking cum off fingers, dirty talk, swallowing/cum eating, face riding, mentions of double penetration, woo getting fucked from both sides at once, woo gets needy and desperate, face fucking, choking, begging, facial, some hair pulling, let me know if I missed any

Summary: What will happen when you get denied entry for the way you dress to visit your husbands and they show you how wrong she was?

Notes: I keep switching between Woo and Wooyoung because I kept getting lazy to type out his name 😭 Also definitely the longest fic I’ve ever written so far🤭

Taglist <3: @hongjoongtime117 @lee-sang1625 @wontini

You had walked into your husbands' company excited to surprise them. You decide to be comfortable and wear San’s hoodie and the sweatpants Wooyoung loves much. You walk up to the front desk wondering why the normal receptionist wasn't there. Then you remember that she had recently had a baby and was on maternity leave. You walk to the desk and noticed the new receptionist side eye you. You ignore it and continue what you were doing.

"Hi I'm Y/n and I'm here to see San and Wooyoung" the receptionist scoffs and replies "do you have an appointment?" "no I don't, I usu-"

"Then I'm sorry, you can't go up. MR. Choi and MR. Jung only take appointments. You see they are very busy men" You were caught off guard by her response and tried to explain. "I know they only take appointments but they know me and Nayoung knows and just lets me up."

"Yeah sure. I totally believe that they know you. There's no way such successful men like them would know someone like you" "what do you mean someone like me?" The receptionist laughs "oh honey have you looked at yourself? You’re in a business dressed like that? No one would ever take you seriously"

You started getting annoyed with her attitude and responded "you aren't understanding, I'm with them." There was a slight pause. Then she starts laughing harder. "YOU?! With them?! That's fucking hilarious. Like they would ever be with a bum like you. They would want someone more sophisticated, like me" you were beyond pissed now. Not only did she just insult you, she said she'd be a better fit for them. You walk away from the desk and pull out your phone. You open your group chat with the guys and send a message:

You: can one of you come down to get me from the lobby? The receptionist won't let me up😒 Woo🖤🐈‍⬛: oh you’re here?🤩 Woo🖤🐈‍⬛: wait why not?🤨 You: yeah I was trying to surprise you You: because "I don't have an appointment" and some other shit I'll talk about when we get back up to your office San⛰️💜: I'll come get you princess You: thank you Sannie 😘 San⛰️💜: of course ❤️

You walk back to the desk and smirk at the receptionist. She gave a stank face and asked "what are you smiling about?" "about how fucked you are" Her face changed to one of confusion "what are you taking ab-" Before she could finish her question, the elevator dinged and San walked out. He was dressed in his signature black suit, looking as sexy as ever.

"So what's going on here? Why won't you let her up?" the receptionist heard the slight aggressiveness in his voice and tries to answer innocently "because she doesn't have an appointment sir, I was told not to let anyone up if they don't have an appointment." she tried to give some sort of puppy dog face to get him to not be mad at her. "She doesn't need an appointment and I would like you to make note of that from now on. Am I clear?" San declares completely ignoring her pouty face. The receptionist was completely shock and you smile at the look. "But sir- " "AM I clear?" he asks more sternly. She nods and glares back at you. You go over to San and grab his hand and he interlocks your fingers together. You turn around to see the look on her face and it was exactly what you expected. Complete disbelief. You chuckle and turn back towards the elevator. Of course you reach up to kiss San on the cheek before going in to really piss her off.

When you got to their office on the top floor of the building, you go over to Wooyoung and give him a kiss on the cheek. "So what happened?"

You take your seat on Wooyoung’s lap and start explaining. "so basically she said I can't go up cause I don't have an appointment AND that I didn't belong because of how I was dressed. I tried to explain that I'm with you two and she just laughed at me saying that successful men like you wouldn't be with ‘someone like me’”

San was pissed at what he was hearing and goes to his phone on his desk. "Sannie what are you doing?" you asked. He didn't answer and dialed a number. “hey Yuri? Can you pull out the list of hires for the temporary receptionist position… No you can hold them I'll come pick it up... Thank you" he hangs up the phone. "That bitch is gone" "that was kinda hot " Woo say chuckling, while playfully biting his lip. "San did you just?” he nods "no one talks to our wife that way and gets away with it"

You go over to him and gives him a kiss. You pull away and smile lovingly at him. "Thank you Sannie. I love you." He smiles and kisses her forehead "I love you too Princess” Their moment was interrupted by a throat clearing. "And I love you Woo" He smiles and replies "I love you too baby" you go back over to him and take your spot on his lap and kiss him as well so he's not left out.

You make yourself comfortable while the men work. You just casually play on your phone with Wooyoung occasionally kissing your cheek and forehead. Then the words popped into your head that the receptionist said to you.

"They would want someone more sophisticated, like me"

You then got a major wave of possessiveness and cuddle closer to Wooyoung. You bury your face into his neck and start giving light kisses. Wooyoung noticed your change in behavior but didn't say anything and let it happen.

The subtle kisses started to turn to kisses, bites and licks. Wooyoung started to let out quiet groans but tried his best to ignore and keep working. Until you full on bite his neck; knowing he's weak to bites. "Fuck" Wooyoung groans "baby I'm trying to work, can't you wait just a little longer? It's almost lunch." You get off his lap and move to straddle his thighs. You look at him with big doe eyes and a pout "please sir? I want you"

Wooyoung groans at your little begs and really tries to refuse but you just look so cute he can't say no. "Fine baby. But only for a little bit I really need to finish this report" Wooyoung moves his chair away from his desk and squeezes your ass. "Did you wear these just for me?" you nod. He smirks and continues to squeeze them. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. The kiss quickly deepens and you both let out soft groans into each others mouth.

Wooyoung pulls away from your lips and starts kissing down your jaw and to your neck. You let out soft whines as he leaves a trail of kisses. He removes a hand from your ass and slides it up underneath the hoodie and squeezes your breast and plays with your nipple. He hums as you moan softly at the action and switches to the other. Then he slides his hand down into your sweatpants and make direct contact with your dripping wet core. "No bra or panties? So bold of you. You naughty little slut” you moan a little louder at his words as he starts moving his fingers against your slippery folds. "Please Woo I want your fingers. Please?” "what's my name baby?" he asked as he starts to rub your bundle of nerves. "Fuck please sir" he smirks and takes one of his fingers and slowly pushes it into your heat. You slowly start grinding against the finger and let out little whimpers. Wooyoung watches you fuck yourself against his finger with darkening lust filled eyes, slowly adding a second finger. You moan a little too loud and Wooyoung grabs your throat pulling you to his lips in a sloppy kiss "you have to stay quiet baby or do you want the whole floor to hear how much of a slut you are for me?" “Fuck I'm sorry sir. it just feels so good" he bites his lip as you move your hips faster.

San is fully aware of what's going on. But he has such good self control, he keeps working, even though he's twitching constantly due to all the sounds happening right next to him. He tries to subtly adjust his pants but it doesn't go unnoticed by Wooyoung. "Do you want to join Sannie? That looks a little painful" "you know I can't… as much as I really want to." Wooyoung starts thrusting his fingers faster them pulls them out of you causing you to whine from the emptiness.

"Oh come on Sannie, just look how much she's dripping for us” he knows he shouldn't look because he'd give in but he does anyway. He instantly groans at Wooyoung's glistening fingers, all self control gone. He goes over to Wooyoung’s chair and pulls the fingers into his mouth, sucking off your arousal. You whine at the action in front of you.

“Fuck, you know I can never pass up a chance to taste our princess” His eyes are filled with lust as he grabs you by your throat and pulls you into a desperate kiss. Wooyoung continues to squeeze your ass and play with your nipples causing you to moan against San’s mouth. You both pull away to catch your breath. “Please daddy, sir please?” “Please what princess?” San asks stroking your cheek gently with his thumb. You whine “I want you both” Both of the guys smirk at your response. San pulls you off Wooyoung’s lap and turn you so your back is to his chest. He moves your legs to hang over Woo’s and gets onto his knees. He starts pulling your sweatpants off “It’s a good thing you’re here baby. It’s lunchtime and I seem to have forgotten my lunch today. You wouldn’t want your poor Sannie to be hungry now would you?” You shake your head and bite your lip. He smirks and lowers his head to your dripping core. You moan at the contact and your hands instantly goes to his hair. Wooyoung leaves kisses and bites on your neck as his hands go up and down your body. He removes your hoodie, leaving you completely naked in their presence. He plays with your nipples before going to your clit.

You whine at the stimulation arching your back off wooyoung’s chest. "does Daddy's tongue feel good baby?" San groans at Wooyoung calling him daddy "y-yes it feel s-so good. Fuck~" he smirks and rubs your clit faster. You almost scream as you get closer to your high. “I'm so close. Fuck~" Wooyoung looks down over your shoulder at San who is looking back at him and subtly nods. "cum for us baby. Drown Sannie in you sweetness" you moan at his words and release into san’s mouth. San lapped up everything and pulls away, face glistening. Wooyoung takes the fingers that was rubbing your clit and sucks off your arousal groaning at the taste. You whimper as you come down from your high.

San gets up from the floor and goes to Wooyoung. He pulls him into a deep passionate kiss, groaning into each other's mouth as they savor your taste on San's tongue. After completely coming down from your high, you take in the scene going on next to you and whine. You reach to both of their prominent bulges in their suit pants and palm at them. They both groan in each other’s mouths and pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting their lips together. "someone's really needy today, aren't you princess?" you whimper and continue to palm at their twitching lengths. "please. I wanna feel you both”

San moves to the side and Woo taps your thigh for you to get up. You land on the ground on shaky legs. San held you against him so you don’t fall. Woo stands and stretches before going to the couch in the opposite corner of the office space. He makes himself comfortable leaning up against the arm of the couch. He starts to unbuckle his belt and you whine at the bulge in his suit pants, barely being contained behind the zipper.

San carries you over to the couch and places you between Woo’s legs. You paw and the waistband of his pants, waiting for him to keep going. Woo smirks at you and slowly undoes his button. You start to get impatient and decide to take matters into your own hands. You make yourself level with his constrained member and start mouthing at it over his pants. Woo’s eyes widen and groans at the feeling. He tries to push your head away but it felt so good finally getting attention that he just lets it happen. But San wasn’t having it.

He pulls you away by your hair and Woo whines at the loss of your warm mouth. “Relax, you’ll have cock in you soon. Be patient” He lets go of your hair and Woo pulls his pants down to finally release his member and your mouth waters. The tip glistening with precum just asking to be devoured. You decide to not waste anymore time and take it into your mouth. Both you and Wooyoung moaning in unison. You take him in inch by inch until your nose hit his pelvic bone. Woo reveling in the long awaited feeling of your deliciously warm mouth.

San watches as you take Wooyoung deep in your throat. He grinds his boxer covered member against your ass. “My needy babies” he moans as his grinds turn into soft thrust, imagining you gripping his cock. As they started to speed up, you beginning to meet his thrust. “You want it princess?” You moan around Woo’s member and release with a pop. “Please daddy, please fuck me” San slaps your ass as he pulls down his boxers. He glides his throbbing cock against you, the tip grazing your sensitive clit. You whine again against Woo and he moans at the vibration.

San lines himself up and slowly pushes in. He groans at how tight you are, despite taking them both just last night. He starts off slow with his thrust, savoring in the warmth. He feels you clench as you gag on Woo’s dick and starts to speed up his thrusts. He continues to thrust into you as you keeping choking and gagging on Wooyoung. “Fuck~ I’m gonna cum keep going baby” Woo groans as the tightness in his lower stomach was close to snapping. San speeds up to an inhumane speed causing you to take Wooyoung deep in your throat as he releases with a whiny groan. You don’t hesitate to swallow all of it.

The sound Woo makes, along with the sound of you dripping core, push San over the edge. He cums deep into you causing you to cum as well. Milking his cock with every clench of your spasming pussy. “Your pussy feels amazing as always princess” you moan at the dirty praise. San pulls you up so your back meets his chest and kisses you. His tongue entering your mouth, tasting the remnants of Wooyoung’s cum. “You should saved some cum for me. Greedy girl.”

Your make out session was once again interrupted but this time by a whine. Both you and San look at Wooyoung, catching your breaths. “I’m still here too” San chuckles at his pouty husband. “Aww does my babyboy feel left out? Hm?” Wooyoung blushes at the nickname and pout “maybe I do” “come here love”

You and Wooyoung switch places so that he’s in front of San. San takes his chin in between his thumb and index finger and pulls him into a passionate kiss. San licks his bottom lip, asking for entrance which Woo immediately accepts.

They pull away after a while to catch their breath. “Why don’t you clean princess’s juices off my dick” Woo wastes no time getting on his knees on the floor in front of the couch. San sits on the couch and Wooyoung takes his place between his open legs. He admired San's glistening cock and licks his lips. He licks a strip up from his balls to the tip, moaning at the taste of your sweet juices.

He takes San deep into his throat, rolling his eyes back as he gags. “Good boy. You like being daddy’s little cockslut don’t you” Woo pulls off his dick with a pop and looks at him with lustful eyes. “Yes, yes I love it so much daddy, please fuck my face” San grabs Woo by his hair and pushes him back onto his cock. He moans feeling the tightness of Woo’s throat around his tip. San starts his thrusts slow then picks up knowing he can take it. Nothing could be heard except for gags and groans from the two men.

The guys stop for a moment when they hear little whines coming from the side of them. They look over at you, you’re slowly rubbing your swollen clit as your cum filled hole leaks out San's cum. They both groan at the sight. Woo gets up from the floor and back onto the couch. “Sit on my face baby. We can’t let that delicious cum go to waste”

You take your place, hovering over Woo’s face on shaky legs. He pulls you down, your pussy making direct contact with his tongue. He wastes no time sticking his tongue inside and licking out the cum San left behind.

As Woo shows you no mercy, San settles between his legs and takes a freshly lubed fingers and teases Woo’s hole. Wooyoung whimpers into your pussy as he slides 2 fingers into him. He stretches him open as Woo continues to eat you out. When San deemed him stretched enough, he lines himself up and thrust into him all at once, know he loves the pain.

Your moans start to get louder and San pulls you into a kiss to quiet you down. He pulls away and wraps his hand around your neck. “Didn’t Woo tell you to be quiet? If you do that again, I'm telling Woo to stop and I know you both don’t want that.” “Fuck~ no please I’m sorry~! His tongue feels so fucking good please don’t make him stop” He hums at your begs and tightens his grip on your throat “Then shut the fuck up and take it” He pulls you back into a kiss as he speeds up his thrusts into Wooyoung. The office was filled with the sounds of slurping from Wooyoung’s mouth and San’s balls hitting Woo’s ass.

“I’m s-s-so close!” You whine and Woo suddenly stops right before you could reach your peak. You whimper as your high starts to fade. “No no why’d you stop” Woo moves you from his face, panting “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Please baby? I wanna feel you clench me as you cum” you moan at the thought and move off the couch, barely keeping balance. San pulls out briefly so he can flip Woo onto his stomach. You lay on your back on the couch and Woo lines himself up to your pussy. He pushes in with no hesitation and starts thrusting slowly. San lines himself back up to Woo’s hole. Pushing him down so you’re both chest to chest as he begins to thrust into Woo, causing him to thrust into you. You both moan in unison, beginning to make out to keep each other quiet.

San's thrusts pick up, thrusting faster and harder. Woo’s cock hitting deeper into you, kissing your cervix. Both San and Wooyoung’s names leave your mouth at the wonderful pleasure you’re feeling right now. Woo’s own moans and whimpers leave his tongue as well, being in his favorite position. In between the two people he loves more than anything in the world.

“Aww does it feel good Woo? Does it feel good getting attention from both sides?” Wooyoung couldn’t even speak anymore, only whines so he nods instead. “Yeah? I know it feels good cause you’re clenching the fuck out of my dick right now. Mmm such a good boy. My good boy. I know you’re close to cumming, cum for me babyboy.” Woo releases into you with a almost pornographic moan. San pulls out and Woo slows his thrusts starting to feel the overstimulation. “Don’t stop now love, our princess still has to cum” San explains as he slowly strokes himself.

Wooyoung whimpers as he continues to thrust into you, trying his best to fight the sensitivity. You whimper his name as you started to get close again, begging him to go faster. “Please sir I’m so close. Please go fas-” Wooyoung grabs you by your throat again and pounds into you at an inhumane speed. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-” “cum for us baby” you cum hard, Wooyoung following right behind you.

You lay there catching your breath as your highs die down. “You both were so good for me. I think I should give you a reward. On your knees now” you both immediately get to the floor, knowing what was coming (it’s San btw 🤭). He stands facing the both of you and strokes his leaking cock in your faces. You and Woo open your mouth and stick out your tongues with desperate looks, wordlessly asking for San’s cum. He groans as he releases onto both of your faces, some landing into your mouths and you both hum in satisfaction.

When San came down from his high, Wooyoung was the first to start licking your face clean of the sticky liquid. You return the favor. Then Wooyoung pulls you into a kiss passing the cum back and forth between your mouths. “Alright that’s enough. I don’t have energy for another round. Not when I haven’t had food.” San chuckles at his lovers.

You all get cleaned up and back into your clothes. San grabs the folder with the list of potential temporary receptionists and you all head down to the lobby. You walk up to the desk, shit eating grin on your face and your husband right behind you.

“Time to pack up your stuff bitch. You’re done.” The look of shock on her face at your words was priceless. “You both are just going to let her say that to me?” They both shrugged with emotionless faces. “I’d just do what she says, before we have security escort you out.” Wooyoung said sternly. “This is bullshit, I fucking quit” “well you were getting fired anyway so that makes my life easier” San said unamused. She then storms off after grabbing her stuff.

“Ok can we go get food now? I actually did forget my lunch at home and I’d like to eat it” both you and Wooyoung laugh at Sans’s pouty face.

“Ok Sannie let’s go get you some food”

[luvt0kki]

closer | j.w.y

pairing: foxhybrid!Wooyoung x f!reader ( ft. husband!Hongjoong)

♡₊˚ inspired by one of my fave fics by @kitten4sannie ( Spilled Milk is an all time favourite of mine, hybrid!woo is so hard not to write about)

summary: It was supposed to be just for a while but even then, when your next-door neighbor had asked you and your husband to look after his fox hybrid, Wooyoung, you had found yourself being fond of his red fluffy fox ears and his playfulness. But when your neighbor got a better job opportunity abroad, you and your husband weren’t able to say no to letting the lovable and loyal hybrid into your home and your lives. The thing is, this fox hybrid was particularly fond of his new owners wife. He couldn’t help it.

wc: 10.5k (kinda proofread but too many words brain hort, sorry for errors :< )

cw: hybrid AU, smut, foxhybrid!wooyoung, afab and wife!reader, pregnancy, mommy kink, dubcon-ish ( consent is very important guys), lactation kink, cream pie ( wrap it before you tap it please), husband!Hongjoong, breeding kink, somnophillia, subby!Woo, pregnancy hormones, Woo goes into rut, handjob, fingering, cunnilingus, oral, dom!hongjoong ( cause yes)

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: hello so it’s been awhile! This is definitely not one of my best works but I had brainrot...l I'm not yet fully back but will slowly post from time to time. I know this is a random post that's not related to trainings wheels or swm but ahh I just really wanted to write this. I hope you guys will enjoy this as it was something I wanted to write to take a break from sway with me. This took me 3 months since I was so busy. sorry for being ia guys! I'm still here I swear!

READ CONTENT WARNING BEFORE READING!

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

It was supposed to be temporary.

It was supposed to be just for a while but even then, when your next-door neighbor had asked you and your husband to look after his fox hybrid, Wooyoung, you had found yourself being fond of his red fluffy fox ears and his playfulness. You were okay with having Wooyoung around for a month and having him stay with you for when his owner was away for business trips. But then when your neighbor had gotten a better job opportunity abroad and had asked you and Hongjoong to take in his loyal friend and hybrid, you had found yourself reluctant but it was so hard to say no when Wooyoung himself had said that he’d want to be with you and your husband.

Eventually, Wooyoung was fully moved in and slowly became a part of your and Hongjoong’s lives, forming a little unit.

At-home movie nights with your husband now included the energetic and affectionate hybrid, walks in the park too, and even though he had his own room, he would sometimes sneak into the master bedroom to lie next to you, sandwiching you between him and Hongjoong. In fact, it was your husband who was more than happy to take in Wooyoung so that you wouldn’t be alone when he’s at work and that you’d have a companion for when you go out.

“I swear, I think he likes you more than me.” Hongjoong chuckled as he was fixing his tie.

“I’m sure he loves us both equally, Joong.” You told him, still on the bed and watching him get ready to go to work.

“I’d beg to differ, darling. He’s more clingy with you.” Hongjoong met your eyes through the mirror. “More touchy too.”

“He’s very affectionate and he loves getting scratched behind his cute ears.”

You still didn’t believe that Wooyoung had favorites.

Throwing off the covers and getting up, you began to make the bed, unaware of your husband’s wandering eyes drinking in your form in your silk lingerie sleepwear. The camisole top and short shorts were a new set he hasn’t seen before til last night when you got into bed after he had fucked you into the mattress, a cute moaning mess beneath him.

“But you’re less lonely with him around right?” He asked, continuing to ogle his darling wife.

“I guess I am…”

“And I’m a little jealous he gets to spend all day with you.” Hongjoong walked over to you, standing behind you as you were slightly bent over readjusting the comforter and pillows. He gripped your hips and pulled your ass against his groin so suddenly. “Maybe he’s so affectionate with you because he likes you?”

“Joong!” You squeaked at the sudden tug at your hips, your body growing warm the moment he pressed you against him. “Y-you’re being silly!”

“Am I?” He smirked, enjoying your fluster and meek movements to stop him from getting handsy. “He’s a male fox hybrid, darling. He doesn’t even have other female hybrid friends and even when he sees one, he’s disinterested. I think…,” he wrapped his arm around your waist pressing your back against his body while his other hand groped the flesh of your ass. “Our Wooyoungie has a crush on mommy.”

Your face flushed at the way his voice dipped when he said that.

“J-joong you need to go to work,” you stifled a moan when he grabbed your breast and gave it a teasing squeeze. “D-don’t want you to be late.”

“Mhm…” he hummed against your ear, unable to keep his hands off of you, a hand snaking its way into your shorts, happy to find that you weren’t wearing any panties. “I think I can make my wife cum once before I leave without getting late.”

Hongjoong’s desire to touch you this early in the morning only grew the moment his fingers dipped between your slit to find that you were already wet and ready for him. Oh, how he loved the way your body reacted to him.

“Plus, the more we do it. The higher the chances of us having a baby, right?” He began to kiss and suck at that sensitive spot on your neck, your hips grinding down into his hand on their own.

Wooyoung had fallen asleep on the couch last night and had woken up wrapped in his favorite blanket that you had gotten him when you and Hongjoong decided to take him into your shared home and lives. He rubbed his eyes as he saw Hongjoong walk out of the hall, slipping on his blazer with his briefcase in one hand.

“Morning, Woo.” Hongjoong smiled at him, the nickname making his fox ears perk up. “Behave while I’m at work, okay?”

Wooyoung with sleep in his eyes, nodded.

“As usual, take care of Y/N too. Don’t give her too much trouble.”

He nodded again, watching the man grab the keys to his car and check himself in the mirror by the apartment door.

Wooyoung’s nose twitched as he came to his senses, noticing that your scent was all over Hongjoong this morning. His ears dropped as he knew what that meant…he wasn’t dumb. Was it silly that he had a crush on you? Did Hongjoong know he did?

Before Hongjoong left, he gave Wooyoung a gentle pat on the head and said, “I’ll be home later.”

Back then he didn’t like it when you and Hongjoong were apart. It had felt like the newfound connection he had with the two of you was incomplete but now he didn’t mind it at all, especially since he spent more time with you and had a preference for you. His hybrid instincts saw Hongjoong as the disciplinary figure and a provider for you and him while you were the figure of nurture and love. You were the one he could cuddle and snuggle to, the one whom he could get physical affection from. He wasn’t sure when his crush on you started but he believed it was when his former owner left him under your and Hongjoong’s care for the first time.

Getting up, he padded his way to the master bedroom, your scent becoming stronger and stronger as he neared.

He peeked his head by the open door, not wanting to disturb you if you were doing anything like your morning skincare routine or getting dressed. His fox ears dropped a little as he saw that the bed was unmade and you were lying down, under the comforter, asleep.

Were you not feeling well?

Wooyoung quietly moved closer and carefully knelt on the bed, his knee dipping into the mattress. He glanced at your peacefully sleeping face, making sure he hadn’t disturbed you before continuing to crawl next to you, wanting to be close.

Gently taking your hand that was on your stomach, he laid his head there and placed it on his head, near his fox ears, letting you know somehow that he was with you.

“Mhm…” the soft hum came from you and Wooyoung's ears twitched excitedly at the sound. When he felt your fingers brush against his ears, a shiver went down his spine and he couldn’t stop the way his head rubbed on your tummy. “Good morning, Woo.” You greeted him sleepily, feeling his soft furry ears and beginning to languidly play with his hair and scratch that spot behind his ear that made his bushy and fluffy red tail wag uncontrollably.

“Morning…” Wooyoung softly smiled to himself, enjoying your touch and your warmth. He could smell Hongjoong’s scent off of you…the mixed scent of you and him that he’d get a whiff of when he woke up in the middle of the night and heard muffled moans and the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin.

Wooyoung wanted to scent you too…

“Thank you for the blanket.” Wooyoung purred, enjoying the way you caressed and touched him.

If he asked would you let him?

“Didn’t want to wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully but I didn’t want you to get cold.” You chuckled. “You didn’t feel cold?”

Wooyoung shook his head.

“That’s good.”

A beat of silence passed and Wooyoung couldn’t help but say…

“I can smell Hongjoong all over you…are you still trying for a baby?”

His question made heat bloom in your cheeks and your eyes fluttered open, seeing the top of Wooyoung’s bright red hair and his pretty pointed fox ears.

“Y-yeah…we’re still trying…. it's been three months since…I haven’t taken a pregnancy test yet though.”

Wooyoung could tell you were anxious. “But you’re starting to smell different lately…still you but more sweet. Like candy!” His ears perked up and you couldn’t help but giggle at how adorable the handsome hybrid was. “Maybe there’s a baby already.”

“Well, I’ll just have to muster the courage to take a test soon.”

Wooyoung nodded.

The two of you cuddled and basked in the slow morning of that day. The fox hybrid was burrowing feelings of envy that Hongjoong was going to have a baby with you…his sense of smell doesn’t lie. If a baby came into the picture, what of him then? Usually, most hybrids are given up because a baby has entered their owners' lives…will you give him up too?

Wooyoung tried to ignore those feelings of abandonment, telling himself that you would never let him go, and went about the day as usual. He accompanied you to the grocery store and helped around in the kitchen, you’d lightly smack his hand when he would try to steal the chocolate chips you were putting in the cookie batter.

A week passed and the particular day where you and Hongjoong were both out and he was left alone in the apartment, was the day that you had found out that you were pregnant. The two of you returned and happily shared the news with him, and Wooyoung was genuinely happy for both of you as well as a little scared for what the future holds.

One sunset evening, you were snuggled into Hongjoong’s side watching a movie while Wooyoung had his head on your lap. The movie wasn’t anything serious, it was light-hearted and romantic. Wooyoung didn’t really pay attention because he was enjoying the way you were playing with his hair and caressing his fox ears.

“Oh, Woo, I forgot to ask…Seonghwa reminded me to ask you if you have a mate? Apparently, you’ll be going into a rut soon.” Hongjoong spoke nonchalantly.

Wooyoung’s cheeks grew hot at the question. “N-no I don’t have a mate…”

“And your rut?”

He snuggled closer to you. “…it’s soon.”

“We never got to take care of him when he goes through that…” you had softly said to Hongjoong, not having had the experience of dealing with Wooyoung’s rut ever because he was with his former owner then. “He has socialized with other hybrids though…all his friends are male hybrids…Wooyoung was there a hybrid you fancy?”

Wooyoung didn’t know where his bratty attitude arose from but it showed.

“Don’t want a mate.” He huffed, pouting and throwing a little fit.

“But what then when you go into a rut?” Hongjoong made his voice a little firmer, not liking the hybrid’s reaction when he was speaking of something serious.

“I’ll handle it on my own,” he huffed, brows knitted and glaring at Hongjoong through his lashes. “I. Don’t. Want. A. Mate.”

“J-joong,” your voice came like a saving grace. “Let’s not force, Woo, if he’s not okay with it.” You said, soothing Wooyoung with scratches behind his ears making his frustration simmer down immediately. “If he says he can handle it let’s trust him, okay?”

Hongjoong looked at you, unsure and hesitant. As much as he would like this recurring period for Wooyoung to be handled in the best possible way and less of a hassle for you and him, he was weak to your words.

Wooyoung waited with bated breath for Hongjoong’s response, his fear and anxiety slowly bubbling in his chest as the next solution to a hybrid without a mate, was a hotel-like establishment purely for hybrids in heat or a rut. He didn’t want to go there, he didn’t want to be away from home, from you.

“I guess we can observe him when he does go into a rut and make sure he goes through it safely.”

Wooyoung broke into a grin and nuzzled in his cheek on your tummy, the warmth of your body and sweet scent making him feel warm. He didn’t want a mate…he’d rather be close to you.

“How did you handle it before Woo?” You asked the handsome hybrid that was so clingy and affectionate today.

“Hmmm…I just let it pass. Lock myself in a room for two days or three.”

Wooyoung watched your eyes soften at his response, your gaze and pity making his tail wag a little.

“And it works?” Your lips were pouting as you continued to pet him.

Wooyoung nodded, eyes closing in bliss at your touch, his tail making a big swoop.

“Hey!” Hongjoong blurted out as the bushy red tail whacked him in the face.

Wooyoung’s ears flattened at Hongjoong’s tone but it lifted at the soothing sound of your careless and mirthful laughter.

“Awe, Joongie.” You cooed at your husband, reaching out to caress his cheek.

“My bad.” Wooyoung shrugged with a smile, looking at the two treasured people in his life, Hongjoong unable to break into a smile at the moment between the three of you.

“You two enjoy teasing me,” Hongjoong kissed your cheek and patted Wooyoung’s head.

“Oh, you love us.” You giggled, giving Wooyoung a kiss on the forehead after Hongjoong’s kiss.

As weeks passed since the confirmation and announcement of your pregnancy, you entered your second trimester, Wooyoung couldn’t help but notice how much sweeter your scent had become and when he watched you move around the house, his eyes would stare at the hint of a bump at your tummy.

Hongjoong on the other hand, had become more busy at work and being editor in chief for one of the top fashion magazines in the country, it ate up his time. The new summer line of many brands was to be released soon and while those brands begged for a feature on the magazine, Hongjoong would sigh in his office wishing he was with you instead. So, Wooyoung had to get used to the new system here in the household for when Hongjoong was away, it was his job to protect you and watch over you.

The summer heat had already begun to warm the atmosphere even more and Wooyoung could feel his senses sharpen. His watchful eyes grew even more alert as he looked after you while Hongjoong was away.

Every chore, movement, or even when you were just napping, he was there.

Today though, when you moved around in the kitchen with the tempting decadent smell of cookies baking in the oven wafting throughout the whole apartment, he noticed you wince a little bit as you just put the second batch of cookies in the oven.

Wooyoung’s ears perked up at the sight of you in mild discomfort and he leaned forward a bit in his seat on one of the stools by the kitchen island. He didn’t move yet not until he was sure you needed him.

“A-are you okay?” He asked.

You looked at him and smiled through your discomfort. “Just a little achy.”

“That’s not good right?” His brows furrowed.

“N-no, it’s expected. I’m in my second trimester, and my breasts are sore…my doctor said it’s because I’m going to start producing milk.”

Wooyoung blushed as his eyes fell upon your breasts hugged by the cute white summer dress you decided to wear today. Milk? From your...

“O-oh,” he looked away, feeling heat pool at his belly at the curve and plumpness of your chest that had actually gotten a bit fuller in size. “It hurts?”

“Just a little, but it’s nothing to worry about, Woo.”

The fox hybrid let it slide but still kept an eye on you.

As the day progressed, he felt clingier and more protective. The need to be with you was stronger than ever and the other feeling…the other feeling that was telling him to lock himself in his room was creeping up on him too.

It was only Monday…he had hoped that when he had to isolate it’d be during the weekend when Hongjoong was around. He needed to be around you even more so since you were carrying a baby…he needed to be around you because you’re smelling sweeter and sweeter each day since the start of your pregnancy. Sweeter than all the treats you baked out of the blue.

That evening, as you got ready for bed after Hongjoong had called and said that he’d be home really late so he didn’t want you to stay up and wait for him, Wooyoung was debating if it was safe for him to be around you.

You offered that he’d sleep with you on the bed but he said he wanted to watch something on the TV so he’d fall asleep on the sofa tonight. You only gave him a smile and a quick kiss goodnight on the forehead before heading to the master bedroom.

Wooyoung didn’t wrap himself in his favorite blanket. His skin was warmer than usual as his eyes were staring at the little light that leaked from the bottom of the master bedroom door. The sounds from the TV were background noise as he focused on hearing above it, just in case you needed him.

A little wince from you had him on his feet. Then a soft whimper had him quietly stepping towards the room. Were you in pain? The door was left slightly ajar. You always kept it this way when it was just you and him so that he wouldn’t feel like he was intruding if he wanted to be near you.

He peered through the little gap in the door with one eye, blinking and trying to find your presence in the room curiously.

You softly cursed to yourself, and sat up on the bed, the wet patches on your pajama camisole sticking uncomfortably to your skin. “W-what do I do…” you had murmured to yourself as you stared down at your breasts that had been aching and swollen lately.

Wooyoung’s eyes closed as a new scent reached his nose. It was like milk…but sweeter. He felt his mouth salivate at the smell before his eyes opened to look for the source, gulping when he found it.

With the duvet up to your lap, you were sat on the bed with a towel dabbing at the silk camisole that had dampened patches…the fabric sticking to the swell and curves of your breasts, and your nipples poking through.

“This…it’s too early…,” you mumbled as you wondered if massaging your breasts would help with the ache. Your doctor mentioned that breast milk leaking was normal and that as long as there was no blood, it was all good but…the wet sticky mess it left was a handful.

You cupped your right breast and gently massaged it, sighing as it relieved some of the pain. Wooyoung gulped when he saw this, heat going straight down to his cock that slowly stiffened the more he smelled that rich sweet scent and watched you massage your breasts.

He kept his silence, his tail swaying side to side slowly as he watched you change into a new set of pajamas then laid down in bed again to try to sleep. You switched off the lamp on your nightstand and Wooyoung couldn’t help but slip inside the room.

He just wanted to get closer to your sweet scent and cuddle. Cuddle and snuggle like he does when Hongjoong comes home late or when he’s away on a business trip.

Wooyoung took Hongjoong’s empty spot on the bed, gazing at you as you slept. Your new pink camisole hugged your breasts and tummy, showing off that little baby bump that was growing slowly with each month that passed. As he lay on his side, his eyes took in your peacefully sleeping expression before they were drawn to your breasts.

He began to salivate again and his cock which had been hard since he was peeking through the door, ached even more. He could feel his rut looming over him like a dark cloud…and even though he was lying still, his tail restlessly snapped up and down.

But he didn’t want to disrespect you. He loved you too much to act on any of the dirty thoughts in his head…to act on his crush on you that didn’t want him to have or find a mate.

So he forced his eyes closed and tried to focus on the sound of your even breathing, trying to imitate it so that he too could calm down and avoid the itch to touch you and be closer to you. He didn’t want to slip up when his rut came then make Hongjoong decide that he’ll be sent to one of those hotels.

Wooyoung thought he could manage. He really did. He had gone through his ruts before all alone…but this time it was difficult.

Something was different. He didn’t even think it’d be a big factor that would affect his rut. What made a difference was that you were a constant presence in his life now and in the long run too. He’s never had a rut around the opposite sex…even if you weren’t a hybrid, you had this sweet, comforting smell and since your pregnancy, it’s gotten more intense.

“Woo? You okay?” You pressed your palm against his forehead. “You’re really warm.”

He had blanked out on the couch this hot summer afternoon with all his thoughts that your sudden closeness took him by surprise and the strong whiff of your scent made his head spin.

His skin was hot to the touch and he was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. You bent over and kissed his forehead to feel for a fever.

His breath hitched as your breasts were at his eye level. They were hugged by your cotton tank top and that note of sweet milk overwhelmed his senses again, his hands scrambled to grab one of the pillows on the couch, placing it over his lap.

“Do you feel feverish, Woo?” You asked, standing up to full height, your hands soothingly caressing his ears and your fingers running through his bright red hair.

“N-not really,” he murmured, forcing his gaze away from your boobs. What would they feel like if he touched them? Were they sensitive? Did your milk taste sweet?

You pouted not sure what to do and also very worried about him. You took the seat on the couch beside him and turned the AC up, wondering if he might be coming down with something.

“I-I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” he managed to smile but it looked like a grimace which made you coo and pull him to lie down on your lap, so you could comfort him.

His ears twitched the more you caressed and petted him, scratching behind his ears now making that shivering sensation go straight to his cock.

This was bad.

He wanted to be near you…but he was scared he would lose control and get into trouble with Hongjoong.

“Y/N….”

“Yes, Youngie?” You hummed, comfortable on the couch as you put a movie on the TV.

“N-nothing…” he looked away, turning on his side so that he wasn’t looking at your pretty face and tempted to stare and continue to salivate at your full breasts.

After thirty minutes of focusing his eyes on the TV, he heard you whimper which instantly made him turn to you.

You had fallen asleep and your brows were knitted while your nose scrunched at something you felt.

He sat up slowly to not wake you and he worriedly looked at you.

Then the smell hit him.

He gulped and his eyes wearily traveled down from your face to your chest…the navy blue fabric began to stain at two spots…and they continued to dampen as you winced once more.

You were in discomfort again.

Wooyoung didn’t want to wake you up. You hadn’t slept properly the previous night because you had felt nauseous and Hongjoong was there to help you through it.

Maybe he could get a towel?

You whimpered in your sleep and he remembered how you soothed your pain a couple nights ago.

Before he could stop himself, his one hand cupped one of your breasts, his eyes shifting from your face and your pillowy, soft, tits. Your expression relaxed a little and his ears stood.

He was helping!

Wooyoung scooted closer, his other hand beginning to give the same attention to your neglected breast. He gently massaged and squeezed them…they were so soft and nice to touch. They were weighty beneath his palm and he noticed the damp patches beginning to grow... the thick sweet milky scent becoming stronger.

His mouth was salivating so much he had to swallow down thickly.

He can make you feel better. He knows he can!

He leaned closer to your breast his other hand not stopping its movements, and took a deep breath, his eyes closing at the decadent alluring scent. His tongue poked out and through the damp thin fabric of your top, he gently dragged his tongue along your stiffening peaks.

The taste of cotton wasn’t enough to mellow the sweetness of the milk that leaked from your breasts. He looked up at you as he continued to kitten lick and swirl his tongue around. You looked as peaceful as you did when he slept next to you a couple nights ago.

Wooyoung kept telling himself that he was helping you that he was doing good by soothing your pain but his increasingly rut-muddled mind was getting the best of him too.

Slowly, he pulled down the hem of your top until your breast popped out. He stared at the milky white that leaked out your nipple. He squeezed the pillowy flesh a bit and massaged it around a little only to find more milk spilled as he did that.

Without a single thought or even a hint of hesitation, he licked your nipple without the barrier of your top and the moment he tasted the fresh spilled milk on his tongue, his cock throbbed. You tasted so sweet. He circled his tongue and flicked it around again. His eyes closed as he began to gently suck, the action making more of your milk spill unto his tongue.

His tail wagged happily as he suckled at your breast, drinking your milk. You tasted so good, he didn’t think he could stop. He moaned, mouth stuffed with your tit. He could feel his right hand getting wet and he opened his eyes just a little only to see your right breast leaking more.

What a waste, he thought to himself before latching off your left breast to give the same treatment to the other.

“A-ah…” you mumbled softly in your sleep.

Wooyoung’s eyes snapped to your face as your brows were slightly knitted and your plump pretty lips were parted.

His hand on your breast gently rolled your stiff nipple between his fingers while he continued to suck at the other. Did you need more to relax?

His ears twitched when he heard that beautiful delicate sound that he would hear sometimes late in the night when he couldn’t sleep and he wasn’t allowed in the bedroom. Your soft moan made him short-circuit. He was the cause of that sound. Him.

Wooyoung knew he should stop. You weren’t his…you were Hongjoong’s. You weren’t his mate, you can’t ever be cause you were not a hybrid.

But like Hongjoong, he loved you too.

He loved you. He wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to touch you the way Hongjoong touched you.

So he couldn’t stop.

With each drop of sweet milk that ran down his throat, he was growing dizzy with desire and his rut was swallowing him whole. He swirled his tongue and continued to suck, not meaning to have done it as hard as he did that it stirred you awake from your nap.

“J-joongie?” Your eyes fluttered open, sleep making them feel heavy.

Your body was warm and tingling with pleasure that pooled directly to your lower belly. Your clit throbbed as your breasts were being fondled and…sucked?

Eyes slowly adjusting to your surroundings, you focused your gaze down, seeing a blur of red hair. Your breasts no longer ached instead they were being stimulated and played with. The wet hot tongue flicking and lapping at the peak of your breast made you moan as your body was being awoken with these sensations.

You blinked a couple of times, your breath getting quicker, and noticing the fluffy pointed red ears.

“Y-Youngie? Ah—,” you cut yourself off when he continued to suckle and fondle your other breast. “What are you doing?”

The fox hybrid stopped at the sound of his name.

Were you going to get mad?

His eyes snapped open and you were met with his wide and round puppy gaze. His pointy ears fell flat on his head and though his mouth was still full of your tit, he had stopped having his fill of your milk.

It was that look on his face when he was sorry for getting into trouble. The one that made your heart ache…how could you possibly get mad at him?

He latched off your tit unwillingly and looked down, avoiding your gaze. There was a sheen of your milk over his pink lips and you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm as what was happening processed in your head.

“Youngie…” your voice was soft and not scolding.

You cupped his cheek to make him look at you, his cheeks a dark shade of red as you waited for him to explain himself.

“I-I’m sorry…” he murmured, keeping his hands in fists on his lap. “Y-you were hurting…I just wanted to help. Y-you smelled so good. Your milk was leaking too…didn’t want it to go to waste.”

“Youngie…”

“I’m sorry.”

He turned his head away to look down, the carpet suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. While he avoided your gaze, you observed yours and Hongjoong’s hybrid. You placed your palm on his forehead again, he was warmer than when you had checked and your eyes observed his body, blushing when you noticed the very prominent tent in his black sweatpants.

“Woo, are you having your rut?”

He still didn’t look at you and like a sad puppy, he nodded ashamedly, his fingernails digging into his palms as he did his best to not pounce on you then there. You had an arm over your breasts covering them…why were you hiding from him?

His heart sank.

“But I made you feel better right?” He asked, his voice strained as he looked up at you.

He did but—

“I did good, right?” He leaned closer and you tried to move away but he only pressed forward til your back was against the cushions of the couch, his arms on either side of your body.

“You did but Woo—,”

“Then shouldn’t I get a treat?”

The look in his eyes has shifted. Gone was the sweet and playful Wooyoung you knew. His pupils were blown and predatory…and when his gaze flickered from your face to your chest, you felt like hiding.

“Youngie…” you were at a lost for words.

“P-please, let me have a treat. Let me make you feel good,” he pressed his nose onto your neck, taking a deep breath and whiff of your scent. “You smell so good. So, so, good.”

Your hands go to his shoulders as your heart raced in your chest. You could feel just how tense he was and how his muscles flexed beneath his thin black sweater. What were you to do?

“You taste so sweet too…,” he whined into your neck, a hand gently cupping your right breast and giving a squeeze, unable to fight back the moan that escaped your lips. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” He purred against your ear, licking a stripe along your neck. “You were making pretty noises when I was touching you.”

You gasped when you felt his pelvis press against your clothed cunt. He was hard and throbbing against his sweats, and when he slowly pressed his erection even more against you, you felt your walls clench around nothing.

It was hard to resist his touches, especially with how your hormones made you so sensitive and more…needy. You felt slightly embarrassed to feel yourself growing wet and aroused by him.

Wooyoung whimpered softly when his length rubbed against your covered heat, he could feel just how warm it was. He wondered how pretty your pussy would be taking his cock…or his knot…or his cu—

“Youngie,” his name came out in a breathy moan, a sound that he only dreamed of…a sound that he wanted to hear over and over. A sweet seductive rendition of his name that made all his self-control evaporate.

“I need you so bad,” he groaned, grinding his erection against your core, the friction sending sparks of pleasure throughout his body while your own reacted strongly to him too.

This was dirty. The whole act of it. Your husband wasn’t home and your weak attempts to fend off the hybrid were pitiful because, in the end, your body enjoyed it all. You enjoyed the way his hips were humping you, how his cock was rock hard against the gusset of your cotton shorts and rubbed your throbbing clit.

“W-Wooyoung!” You gasped when he latched his mouth on your left breast, nipping at your sensitive nipple before soothing them with flicks and swirls of his tongue. The warm tingly feeling in your boob made your pussy clench and you couldn’t stop the soft whimpers that came from you.

Wooyoung continued to grind against you, moaning with his mouth full of your tit and sweet milk on his greedy tongue. You tasted so good. How was we ever going to stop? Your moans and the scent of your arousal told him how much your body was enjoying this.

Your cheeks were hot as you realized he was drinking your milk. Your mind was hazy as your core ached for more, for something to be inside you. God, your hormones were through the roof and your gentle heart only felt sympathy for yours and Hongjoong’s hybrid.

“Y-Youngie w-wait,” you stuttered out softly, body burning hot from how he had been humping you and suckling at your sensitive chest.

Despite his rut-muddled brain, he had listened. If it had been any other hybrid with no self-control at all, they wouldn’t have stopped. Wooyoung stopped because…well…he loved you. Every word you said, everything you did, your comfort, and your happiness were things he valued so much.

He stopped his movements and looked up at you, releasing your nipple from his greedy mouth. Your face was flushed and there was a shy glint in your eye as you bit the inside of your cheek, thinking about something. Did he go too far?

“You’re going through your rut right?” You caressed his cheek as he rested his head on your chest.

He nodded.

“Which explains why your body is warmer than usual.”

The hybrid nodded again.

“D-does it hurt?” Your thumb softly glided over his cheekbone.

Wooyoung wanted to nod. His cock was so hard it hurts. He needed to do something about it…he needed release.

“Can I try to make you feel better?” You asked, unsure if what you thought of would actually help. Since he had been such a sweet boy for caring so much about your discomfort that he did actually help with the ache and pain in your breasts, you wanted to help him too.

His fluffy red ears pointed up high as his eyes widened and he sat up, wondering what you meant.

“W-what do you mean?” He stuttered, a dust of red blooming across his face.

Trying to ignore the rapid thumping of your heart, you gently guided him to sit closer to you and you looked at his crotch area, the top of the tent of his sweats a darker shade of gray as he had been leaking precum with how aroused he was.

“I’ll help you feel better too. You did the same for me, I want to help you. You said it hurts right?” You spoke softly as if someone could be eavesdropping.

Wooyoung gulped when your hand slowly ran up his thigh, getting closer and closer to his rock-hard cock.

“I-it does b-but I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.” His eyes were shifting from your flustered face and your hand. You were touching him.

“You’re so sweet, Youngie,” you smiled, pressing your lips on his forehead. “Don’t worry, okay? I want to.”

You just wanted to give Wooyoung a helping hand, nothing more.

The sweet fox hybrid was someone you had grown to treasure in your life and that you loved, and wasn’t it your responsibility to make sure he went through his rut safely. You didn’t know how to handle it, Hongjoong did but he wasn’t here and Wooyoung didn’t like the idea of going to those hotels. This was the least you could do to help him.

You untied the string of his sweatpants and tugged it down along with his boxers, and the moment they slipped down enough to let his cock free, it sprung up and slapped against his abdomen. Your eyes widened a bit as you took in the shape of his length and how the dark pink tip was glistening and leaking with precum. He really looked so painfully hard…

Wooyoung shamelessly moaned with just the mere touch of your fingertip on his tip as you smeared his precum all over the head before skimming your touch along his length. Your palm was soft and warm, you were so focused on helping Wooyoung out whose head was leaning on your shoulder as he tried to keep his eyes open to watch your pretty hand wrap around his cock.

He was hot against your palm and the more you stared at it, the more you felt your core clench for something more too but you couldn’t do anything about it. You’re not sure if that was a line you could cross especially since you had Hongjoong.

“Y-you’re so hard, Woo.” You breathed out, your mouth feeling dry as you slowly moved your hand up and down along his length, the way Hongjoong had taught you to touch him when you two had gotten intimate in the early stages of your relationship.

“A-ah,” his hot breath fanned at your collarbones. Your silky palm around his length felt better than his own hand and the grip you had as you pumped his cock made his head spin with pleasure, and his tail wagged excitedly. “That feels good.”

You softly smiled to yourself, happy that he was finding relief.

You kissed the top of his head and moved your hand just a little bit faster, setting a pace that had the fox hybrid panting and whining at the pleasure. He sounded…so cute. You wondered why he didn’t want to date. He was incredibly handsome and playful as well as sweet. He would’ve gotten a partner easily if he wanted to.

Wooyoung felt like he was in one of his dreams except this time it wasn’t and it was better than his dreams.

He glanced at your hand wrapped around his cock, not believing his eyes that you were jerking him off. It was so mind-numbingly good. Then with your scent too? It was driving him crazy.

Tugging down at your tank top once more to free one of your breasts, he latched his mouth on your tit again making you gasp in surprise. His tongue circled and flicked against your nipple then he began to suck, his ears standing up high as the flavor of sweet milk graced his tongue.

“W-Woo,” you breathed out shakily, not stopping the way your hand twisted up and down his throbbing hot length.

Wooyoung moaned, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the pleasure he was feeling and the taste of your milk.

Without a warning, his cock twitched, and hot spurts of white shot from his tip coating your hand and making a mess on his lap. His body twitched as he sucked hard at your breast, coming while your core dripped more slick, aroused.

He released your breast as he panted, whining as his cock remained hard even after coming.

Your brows furrowed wondering why he was still…rock hard. You brought your hand a bit closer to you as he savored his high, his cum was sticky and thick, you were curious to have a taste but fought the urge to do so…you only do that with Hongjoong.

You grabbed a couple of tissue papers on the coffee table to clean your hand, letting Wooyoung rest a bit, unaware how the hybrid’s need only increased a thousandfold after your hand job.

Wooyoung’s mind was filled with nothing but filth and the need to feel you, touch you, and fuck you. You were so sweet to have helped him…but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. You’ll be nice, right? You said you wanted to help.

Before you could process what was happening, Wooyoung had you lying on the couch as he buried his face into your crotch. He pushed away the gusset of your shorts so he could lick and lap at your pussy through the fabric of your panties.

“M-mommy tastes so good,” he moaned into your pussy as you gasped at the sensation of his wet tongue messily over your clit and your entrance.

“Y-Youngie!” You tried to stop him but he had his arms wrapped around your thighs as he nuzzled his nose into your soaked panties.

“You’re wet,” he licked his lips. “Are you enjoying this, mommy? I can help make you feel good. Let me make you feel good.” He groaned flattening his tongue over where your clit was, your back arching.

Your soft whines and moans only egged him on and his hands couldn’t stop themselves from tearing your panties apart to reveal the pink pulsing and slick pussy he’s dreamed of. His mouth watered at the sight. Your folds glistened with your arousal and he could see your little hole squeezing around nothing.

He could fix that.

“M-mommy your pussy is so pretty.” His eyes were wide as he stared, letting go of one thigh so that he could touch your pink cunt. He gently used his middle finger to glide through your slit, collecting your slick and in awe at how much more leaked from your cunt. You smelled of pure sex and it was driving his rut-infested brain crazy.

“Y-youngie, we can’t— ah!”

He licked a long stripe up your cunt, humming as he tasted the salty yet sweet nectar. Your walls clenched once more, pushing out more of your arousal which Wooyoung happily lapped up. He encircled your clit with his tongue, flicking against the sensitive bud and enjoying the whimpers and moans that were leaving you.

He felt happy. He was the cause of your pleasure this very moment.

Then he got greedier, his lazy kitten licks grew messier as he began to make out with your lower lips, his tongue dipping into your needy hole then his mouth suckling at your pussy like he did with your breasts.

Your hands found their way to his bright red hair as you moaned, your body caving into the pleasure.

It was sinful.

The slurping wet sounds filled the living room and your pants and his needy whines and groans were a symphony of obscene desire that bounced off the walls of your home.

Wooyoung moaned against your cunt as you tugged at his hair. Were you going to cum? He wondered. Your moans got pitchier and your breath quickened. He could feel your thighs tensing in his hold and that only urged him on, eating you out like you were his last meal on earth. Your pussy’s nectar was second to the sweet milk he drank from your tits but both made him harder and want you even more.

“Youngie! I’m gonna c-cum!” You squeaked out so cutely that he only continued to ravage your pussy, sucking and licking greedily.

This was wrong, you thought to yourself. Hongjoong would disapprove of Wooyoung’s behavior but your body loved the attention the hybrid was giving you.

One harsh suck and you fell apart, coming all over his tongue and he happily lapped up your release, prolonging your orgasm.

Your legs fell limp as you lost yourself in your high, mind empty and not noticing your phone buzzing on the coffee table.

Wooyoung spread your pussy lips apart, eying it in wonder as he positioned himself on the couch, pushing your thighs to your chest as you looked up at him confused.

“Y-Youngie?”

“You’ll let me right?” He asked, taking his cock and rubbing the bulbous head all over your pussy, coating the tip with your arousal. “I’m still hard. N-need mommy.” He whined, slotting his length between your lips and gently rocking against you. He needed your permission.

“Woo…” you tried to gather your thoughts but your pussy was still throbbing from your orgasm, your whole body tingling with sensitivity as your hormones were in overdrive, needing and craving for more.

“Your pussy is empty,” he murmured, his body got to touch as he perspired, his rut unraveled at this point. “You need cock, don’t you? Need my cock?”

His words made you blush and you couldn’t help but moan when his tip rubbed against your clit. You couldn’t think straight anymore as all you could think of was his thick cock splitting you open.

“I’ll fill you up real good, mommy.” He whined, pushing the fat head into your pulsing hole. He moaned at the hot sensation of your walls around him, it excited him so much he pushed his cock all the way in, watching it disappear into you inch by inch.

Your back arched as he bottomed out inside you, your tits leaking out milk as his tip nudged delightfully at your g-spot.

“Y-youngie!” You cried out gripping the cushion beneath you as he pressed forward into you, pushing you deeper into the mating press.

“M-mommy you’re so tight and warm. Fuck. My cock is inside you—ah—,” he whimpered, slowly pulling out til only his tip was inside you before plunging back in, your eyes seeing white momentarily at how good his cock felt rubbing your walls.

His hands rested on either side of your head as he hurriedly increased his pace. His fox instincts took over him as his head was filled with nothing but the thought of fucking you and breeding you.

“Y-youngie!”

His eyes were dark, and his canines were bared as he grunted above you, rutting into you, drilling his cock into your sopping cunt. The snap of his hips was deep and impatient, he was rocking into you like his life depended on it.

“M-mommy,” he moaned over and over, whimpering when he felt your velvety warm walls hugged his cock so good. He was so envious of Hongjoong. He gets to have you all the time. He wanted your pussy too and you wanted him too right? That explained how your walls squeezed around him, almost sucking him into your heat like you wanted to milk his cock dry. He wanted that. He’d let you do that to him.

He drove his hips deeper and faster, earning a loud moan from you as more of your sweet sticky slick leaked out your cock stuffed cunt, his length gliding in and out so easily. “Mommy’s pussy feels so good. Want to give mommy my pups too.”

“Y-Youngie,” you slurred out, tits bouncing with each deep thrust as he kept you in the mating press, your nipples leaking out milk as he fucked you. It was hard to not get lost in the pleasure, not when his fat cock slammed over and over against your g-spot making your head mush. His words weren’t even processed properly in your head.

Wooyoung leaned over as he pounded into you, taking one of your tits into his mouth, sucking your sweet milk as he felt his balls and the base of his spine grow tighter and tighter.

“L-love…mommy’s…tits,” he mumbled against your breast, flicking his tongue over your sensitive nipple and licking every drop of milk. “Love mommy’s pussy.”

“Youngie, I’m going to c-cum, a-ah!” His thrusts got faster, each slam of the fat head into your cunt numbing all your logical thoughts.

“M-me too,” he groaned, feeling his knot grow tight. His hips chased his release. The build-up to finally reaching his peak clouded his brain as he pistons into your heat, the continuous pounding on your g-spot sending you over the edge as you creamed around his cock.

Your head fell back as your body was wracked by a powerful orgasm that made your walls spasm and suck his cock in deeper into you, and in less than a minute, the whiny pants and moans of your hybrid were cut off by a broken whimper. With one last deep thrust, he pushed his knot into your quivering pussy making you cry out as it doubled the effect of your orgasm. Wooyoung saw white as his seed poured into your sopping hole, his cock twitching uncontrollably as he spilled his hot seed into you.

Wooyoung’s head was buried into your pillowy chest as his knot was engulfed by your hot walls. He was panting, his breath hot against your skin as you lay beneath him limp and unmoving, your body tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

In a hazy state, he licked along your breasts which were sticky and glistening with your milk. He growled possessively when he felt your pussy gently squeezing his knot, his arousal stirring again as it sunk into his head that he had filled your pussy with his cum. Wooyoung straightened up and glanced down at you.

Your hair was a pretty mess on your head, your eyelids were blinking heavily as you stared out into nothing and your lips were parted slightly as you slowly caught your breath. His beautiful Y/N. Gently, he cupped your face and caressed your cheek with his thumb, admiring how fucked out you looked beneath him. He glanced down to where you two were connected, his knot slowly disappearing and he felt his cock twitch to life at the sight of your pretty petal-like folds covered in a mess of your cream and his cum.

The hybrid was bewildered at the sight and all he knew was he wanted to do it over and over again.

Slowly, he pulled out of you, watching in awe as his seed leaked from your little hole. Not liking the idea of it going to waste, he gently hoisted you in his arms and carried you to yours and Hongjoong’s bed then gently laid you on it with your legs almost dangling off the edge. He folded your pliable legs and spread them apart for him before he plugged your leaking hole with his cock, pushing back his cum inside you. You whimpered as his fat length filled your sensitive cunt again.

“Y-Youngie, e-enough. T-that’s enough,” you slurred out, belly hot with his release.

“B-but mommy…,” he pouted, burying himself to the hilt and sighing once he was snug against your cervix. He grabbed your tit and squeezed it. “You said you wanted to help me…I still need your help.” His eyes were dark as his hand left your breast to glide down your very small bump before stopping when his thumb found your clit.

“I'm still so hard,” he whined, pressing his hips snugly against you while rolling your clit beneath his thumb, his cum and your slick making it easy for him to slide his digit around. “Only mommy cares for me.” He slowly began to shallowly thrust, his cock head nudging at your g-spot gently, your mind boggled at how the hybrid was still rock hard inside you. “You don’t want me to handle my rut all alone right? It’s more painful than before because you’re around. My beautiful m-mommy—ah!” He gasped when he felt your walls involuntarily clench around him. “It’s hard to be in control when you’re here…it’s all your fault.”

He was breathing heavily as he began to move against you once more, your body welcoming the sweet delicious scrape of his cock against your pulsing walls. You could deny it all you want but he felt so good. The way he fucked you, the way he suckled at your breasts…all of it was so good.

“M-my fault…” you repeated without a thought, not really understanding, too enraptured by the way he was rutting into you. “I-I’m sorry.”

Wooyoung whimpered at the soft apology, gripping your hips as strands of his bright red hair fell over his eyes, his ears twitching up as his pupils became blown and his mind became controlled by nothing else by his rut and his love for you.

“S’okay, mommy,” He hummed, leaning over to nuzzle his nose into your neck lovingly…possessively. “You’ll make it up to me now, right? Til I have my fill?” He licked along where your scent glands would be if you were a hybrid then gently nipped at the delicate skin, a soft gasp leaving you as he did. He moaned shakily when he felt your walls squeeze him when he grazed his teeth along your neck. “Mommy makes it so hard for me to control my rut…”

“My poor Youngie,” you cooed weakly, hugging him as he slowly slid his cock in and out of you. Your fingers combed through his hair and gently scratched behind his ears causing a deep resounding growl to purr from his chest. “I’m sorry…I-I’ll help.” At this point, boundaries between you and your handsome, playful, and loving fox hybrid no longer existed.

Those boundaries remained blurry and foggy when he began to fuck you like there was no tomorrow, letting him fulfill his needs with your own pleasure-greedy body. You lost count of how many times he came inside you and stretched you with his knot, all you knew was it warmed your heart that he was getting his fill and being relieved of his rut, while you were drunk on a cock that wasn’t even your husband's. Your breasts don’t even ache anymore, not when the hybrid pounding into you happily lapped up and suckled your milk.

Body burning too hot and mind sent into a state of unending pleasure, you don’t even hear the front door opening and closing, nor the soft chinking of the keys being dropped into the key dish by the entryway, nor the gentle loving voice of your husband announcing he was home.

Not even the hybrid stopped when he felt the presence of his other owner by the master bedroom’s doorway, in fact, he grew more possessive and territorial.

Hongjoong sighed and shook his head when he walked into his wife being fucked dumb on their bed by their supposedly sweet, unproblematic, and now very naked hybrid.

He had a feeling this would happen.

His expression was unreadable as he watched, unable to deny the twitch of his cock in his tailored pants when his eyes settled on the way your body took each thrust and how Wooyoung’s cock and your swollen pussy were covered in a sticky mess of cum.

He went over to the dresser and pulled at the bottom drawer.

Your head fell to the side as your body continued to rock with each thrust, heavy-lidded eyes making out the silhouette of your husband.

“J-joongie…”

The fox hybrid growled as you softly muttered out another man’s name, driving his cock faster into your pussy making you cry out as your head spun by the unending abuse of your g-spot.

As much as your husband enjoyed the pornographic sight of his beautiful wife getting fucked as he could only find beauty in the thought of how this was how you would look from a different perspective when he fucked you dumb like the good girl you were for him, he wasn’t happy with his naughty misbehaving hybrid.

Wooyoung didn’t stop, he couldn’t. It didn’t matter that Hongjoong’s dominant aura overpowered his own. Not when he was so close to cumming again and how your walls were pulsing around him.

The man of the house’s eyes darkened when he saw the very slight bruising on your soft delicate hips from the grip of Wooyoung’s hands as he pistons his hips into you mindlessly. How long has he been fucking you? Hongjoong knew this cock drunk state of yours all too well…he was rather impressed Wooyoung was able to bring you to this state.

Before Wooyoung could reach his nth orgasm, it was forcefully taken from him with one harsh tug. His eyes widened when he felt himself yanked back by the neck away from you, his cum that he had been fucking into you leaking out. He growled and fought against the leather around his neck.

He bared his teeth as he tried to pounce back onto you but then he felt the familiar disciplinary hand on the back of his neck squeezing him in warning. His body froze like it always had when he was being trained by Hongjoong.

“Bad puppy,” Hongjoong said dangerously low, forcing him down onto his knees.

“J-joongie…he needed…help,” you murmured out, unable to move, body too heavy from hours of fucking.

“Did he now?” He looked down at the fox hybrid, whose eyes were glued onto your pussy and whose cock was standing erect and glistening with your slick.

“Mommy didn’t cum yet, need to make mommy cum.” He was still in his rut frenzy, trying to crawl closer to you but Hongjoong yanked him back to his place.

“Stay here or else,” Hongjoong commanded in a voice that would make Wooyoung want to run and hide. His ears dropped as he pressed his hands on his thighs, nails digging into his skin as he trembled to control himself.

Hongjoong walked over to you, your legs dangling off the edge of the bed, your pussy covered with the hybrid's cum and the sheets below you drenched. Did Wooyoung manage to make you squirt like he does?

“My poor baby,” Hongjoong cooed, brushing hair away from your face as his eyes drank in your current state. He frowned when he saw how puffy your nipples were and before he could even ask if you were okay, your dainty fingers clutched at his shirt.

“Need to cum…Joongie. Please…” you whined causing Wooyoung’s ears to perk up, his head only hearing the first three words.

“Oh, darling.” He gently cupped your heavy breast feeling their weight beneath his palm and you whimpered at the feeling.

“Joong, please.”

Hongjoong only hummed at your plea, letting his hand roam your pliant body to continue observing you. His hand gently caressed the small bump of your tummy before he reached your inner thigh, trailing higher and clicking his tongue when he saw how his wife’s pink pussy was smeared with and leaked of cum.

“Wooyoung has been a bad fox, hasn’t he?” His voice was laced with tease and disapproval.

“H-he was good,” you defended the sweet hybrid, mind too fuzzy from the hours of sex. “He took care of me and I took care of him…he just got carried away a little.”

“Oh, sweetheart, this isn’t a little.” Hongjoong’s tone was stern and it made Wooyoung glare at his master rather than his usual cower. He was annoyed that Hongjoong was getting in between you and him, he was not done with wanting to fill you up with his cum. “You’re all sore aren’t you, baby?”

You nodded slowly, admitting that you were tired even though your body ached for more since Wooyoung was in the process of making you come for the nth time.

“Look, Woo bruised your pretty skin,” he sighed, running his fingers along the bruises on your hips. “He got too carried away.”

Hongjoong gently put you over his lap, hooking your legs over his thighs as he spread them apart, keeping you open to Wooyoung whose jaw was clenched so tightly and his eyes focused on just you.

Your husband could feel you leaning onto him, unable to hold yourself up from the exhaustion. You weakly shifted and wriggled, aching for friction, and the hybrid meters away was salivating and so willing to give you what you wanted.

As if to rub salt in the wound and his suffering, Hongjoong caressed your lower belly before his fingers found your swollen nub, more sweet moans that Wooyoung couldn’t get enough of leaving your lips. The mix of your arousal and Wooyoung’s cum made it easy for Hongjoong’s fingers to slide between your folds and massage your sensitive clit.

“My darling wants to cum?” Hongjoong kissed the crown of your head, moving his fingers in the way he knew would bring you to the edge.

You nodded, one of your hands moving to his hair as your hips pressed towards his hand.

“Oh, Joongie,” you sighed, eyes closing as you’re brought closer and closer to the orgasm you almost reached earlier.

“Wooyoung has a been a bad fox, darling. Touching what’s mine without my permission,” he stared at Wooyoung as he rubbed your clit, the hybrids ears drooping at the sight of you being pleasured by Hongjoong and not him. “He should be punished, don’t you think?”

Wooyoung’s eyes left your beautiful body momentarily at the word to look at Hongjoong with fear.

“Joongie, no…he’s been good—ah…”

Hongjoong kissed your cheek. “Maybe Wooyoung should tell me what he did and I’ll decide if he can cum one more time…”

Wooyoung inched closer, a small whine escaping his throat at the sweet scent of your sex. The damned collar around his neck reminded him how Hongjoong dominated him at this very moment and that if he disobeyed or made a wrong move, he won’t be able to touch you again or ever.

“Mommy was in pain s-so I helped.” Wooyoung enviously watched Hongjoong cup your swollen breast as he continued to play with your pussy.

“Mommy?” Hongjoong snickered at the way the hybrid addressed you. Who would’ve thought he would have a mommy kink?

Wooyoung blushed beneath Hongjoong’s degrading gaze. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Milk…she was hurting 'cause of the milk. Massaging made her feel better,” he tried to speak, unable to tear his eyes away from your body writhing and twitching with pleasure. “I didn’t want it to go to waste so I—,”

“How did it taste?” Hongjoong cut him off before kissing your neck, gently pinching and rolling your puffy nipple between his fingers, not halting his ministrations of your clit.

“J-joong,” you whimpered, feeling your core tighten as you neared your climax. The way he was speaking to Wooyoung as if he wasn’t playing with and pleasuring your body in front of your beloved hybrid, made you feel a different kind of arousal.

“Tastes good. So sweet…” Wooyoung admitted, his nails digging into his thighs as he watched your face contort erotically.

“You dirty pup,” Hongjoong clicked his tongue as he felt the way your thighs tensed and how your breathing fastened. He sped his fingers up and squeezed your breast, that piling tension in your core snapping as you reached your release.

You gasped and clutched at your husband’s hair, your head thrown back as your hips trembled and your body shivered from your orgasm.

Wooyoung held his breath as he saw how more slick dripped from your already abused pussy.

“That’s it, darling. Good girl,” Hongjoong whispered in your ear, letting you ride it out while the hybrid looked like a kicked puppy gazing at you.

Your husband pets your head lovingly, peppering gentle kisses along your neck and taking his hand off your breast, feeling the wetness that coated his fingers.

“Woo says your milk tastes sweet, baby. Did you let him drink your milk?”

You nodded your head weakly, nuzzling your face into your husband’s neck.

“It made you feel better?”

You nodded again.

Hongjoong hummed and brought his fingers to his lips, aware that Wooyoung was watching him then licked his digits, tasting your milk.

“He’s right baby,” he grinned. “You taste sweet. No wonder our Youngie got carried away. But…he’s still a bad fox. He told us he’d be able to handle his rut.”

“I’m sorry—.”

“But he couldn’t resist you, baby? I told you Wooyoung had a crush on you.” Hongjoong continued to tease the hybrid, amused at how dilated his eyes were and how stiff his cock was just staring at your cunt, almost drooling at the sight.

“Youngie doesn’t want to go to the hotel…” you mumbled, gaining little of your senses back.

“I know darling but if we’re going to be taking care of him when he goes into a rut, he’s going to have to behave…”

“I’ll behave, I swear!" Wooyoung blurted out, inching closer til he was knelt by the edge of the bed, just a couple of inches away from your dripping cunt. “I’ll be good.”

“I trusted you to be able to handle your rut alone when you said so,” Hongjoong went on, caressing your sides and kissing your neck. “But I came home to this…”

Wooyoung swallowed the lump in his throat and Hongjoong gripped his chin before brushing his two digits along the hybrid’s lips, the fingers that had been on your pussy.

“Be a good boy and lick her clean, and if I’m satisfied, I’ll let you fuck her again.”

Without hesitation, Wooyoung scooted closer and buried his face into your pussy, a shiver going down his spine as he heard your sweet mewling. He lapped happily at the taste of your release and a mix of his as well, and Hongjoong was pleased with his submission and eagerness.

“What do you say, baby?” Hongjoong turned his attention back on you now, knowing he could stop Wooyoung whenever he wanted to with a tug of his collar. “Can you take our sweet Youngie’s cock again? Look how hard he is for you.”

Through heavy-lidded eyes, you gazed at your beloved hybrid. His eyes were shut in bliss as he tasted you, his hot tongue attacking and invading your overstimulated pussy once again. Then your line of vision fell to his lap, his toned thighs flexing and his cock painfully stiff and leaking messily with pre-cum.

You nodded. “I-I can.”

“That’s my good girl.” He cooed and Wooyoung’s ears pointed up at the sound of your voice, his tail wagging excitedly at the thought of being buried in your tight heat again.

Hongjoong wasn’t entirely upset with Wooyoung. He has acknowledged and accepted the fact that the busy season was going to keep him in the office more than he liked but he always trusted Wooyoung to look after you when he’s away.

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple as he laid your head on the pillow while Wooyoung positioned himself between your legs, lining his cock to your pulsing hole once more.

With the baby coming along, he wouldn’t be able to be there as often as he liked to care for your hormonal needs…as much as he’d love to do so. He just needed to balance his time to be more present as the father of the baby and your husband but he didn’t particularly mind the idea of letting Wooyoung have you from time to time. He wasn’t blind to the affection Wooyoung had for you, he just needed to make sure that Wooyoung knows his place if Hongjoong decided on letting him into yours and his relationship.

What mattered to him was your happiness and your family...and that included Wooyoung.

im sorry if this wasnt the best but yeah, 3 months worth of brain rot and business, I came up with this. Im still working on training wheels part 2 as well as continuing sway with me :> thank you so much for reading my works and your support!

tags : @songmingisthighs @bunny4yungi

[waitforyrlove]

alexa play . . . hands on me by Ariana Grande .ᐟ.ᐟ

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ summary: You and Matthew, never liked each other, principally after an incident at a party, and when you found out your childhood bestfriend was kissing the person you hated the most, making intrusive thoughts take care of your body.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ warnings: Smut, rough sex, fem!receiving, degradation kink, spitting, enemies trope!! || ⸝⸝ author’s note: this is for @fawnchives !

The dazzling LED lights dominate your sight, enveloping your vision as you walk thru the party your best friend has just kicked off.

several couples getting drunk and making out in the corners, girls getting loose on the dance floor by the song “Hands on me” by Ariana Grande, why not join on the dance floor?

Making your way to the dance floor, excusing yourself to pass thru multiple people, the party was definitely crowded.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you get closer to the destination, put everything good in your mind disappears when you bump in the person you wanted to see the least.

Matthew Sturniolo.

You and him never liked each other, and had a big rivalry since high school, well firstly he was always a bitch to you, secondly you couldn’t stand seeing his attractive face structure everywhere.

The red cup filled with beer, spilled on his shirt, well lucky him it was a black shirt, if it was a white one it would be worse.

Im met with the pair of his blue eyes staring at me deadly, it scared you at the same time, but why be scared at a two faced loser?

“You never watch where you walk don’t you?” His gaze meet your body, taking a long up and down look, observing every detail of the outfit you had picked.

“Why are you such a asshole?” You comment, your gaze meeting his a light chuckle leaving his mouth.

“You owe me a new shirt, y’know?”

“Too bad, in your dreams maybe it happens.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes staring to walk away, he watches your figure disappearing into the crowded dance floor.

03:46AM

Multiple songs you liked were on and that made the party enjoyable, you smile with your friend Lizzie as you walk to a couch together refilling both of your cups, sounds of giggles escaping your lips as you two were enveloped in talking shit about people you didn’t like.

“Y’know, I hate Matth-“ you cut off yourself as you look to a corner right in your front, but still a bit far away, your eyes met the tall figure of Matthew as he basically as sucking the neck of your childhood bestfriend, Mila.

A strong grip on the cup is planted by the strength your hands make, Mila knew you hated him but she didn’t help it and offer herself to the guy you despised.

“That two faced cunt.” You mumble, Lizzie looking at you confused, you land your cup on the nearest table, beginning to walk outside for some fresh air.

Sitting on the crosswalk, as the wind hits your face you look to the street cars passing by, but one car calls out your attention.

Matthew’s Lamborghini Urus, parked the closest to you, a wicked grin forms in your face as your mind forms, why not ruin his car?

There was a lot of possibilities to ruin it, but the easiest was keying his car.

You suddenly remember you have needle in your shirt, after a problem had happened with your pink jersey, removing carefully the sharp object, standing up and walking up close to the driver’s passenger part, kneeling down, you started keying his car, damaging the shiny black painting, a white long line in his passenger door.

You smile to yourself, nothing better that knowing how man act when their precious car is ruined, and Matt’s car being ruined made you happy, he had what he deserved.

As you stand up once again, planting the clothe needle again in your jersey turning around, you meet face to face with Matthew.

Oh fuck.

In your mind you thought this would work because if you damaged and you disappeared after, he wouldn’t know it was you, maybe he could have an idea, but still.

His gaze turns to a anger look as he looks at you, he had been watching you all the time, and this wasn’t good, he crossed his arms against his chest, his muscles flexing as his voice starts echoing thru your ears, shivers being sent down your spine.

“You think you’re that clever don’t you?” He says, before you could reply, he shuts you off immediately by speaking again.

“Not only you bump into me with your clumsiness, spilling your beer on my shirt that now, you had to ruin my fucking car.” Every word that he spit out of his mouth he got even closer to you.

“Well maybe I have my reasons to key your car.”

“Are you mad that Mila was kissing me?” The anger in his voice was still visible, but he couldn’t help it and let a chuckle escape his mouth as a smirk is on his lips.

“Yeah, maybe I am because she was my bestfriend, and she knows damn well that I hate you!” You exclaim, you cross your arms just like he had, as you interlock eyes with him.

“That doesn’t give you any stupid fucking reason to key my car.” You open your mouth to comment, but before, a hand creeps up on your waist turning you around forcedly guiding you to the passengers side.

“Let me go!” You utter, as you try to remove his hand off you, but his grip was too strong.

“Why don’t you shut up that dirty fucking mouth of yours, hm?” He whispers in your ear as you can feel the smirk he has on his face, opening the door for you, you enter on the car, sitting and remaining silent for the rest of the ride, wherever he was taking you.

The whole car ride was silent, after he drove it to a luxury neighborhood, you knew he was driving to his house, his jaw was clenched most of the time and he was going 305 km/h, it was too fast to your liking.

As he parked his car, opening the electronic garage, he quickly left his side, going the other way to open yours, he grabbed you by the wrist making you gasp at the sudden act.

“You’re too mad just for a little damage in your car, I was having fun at the party.” You lie thru gritted teeth, for a moment it was but the second Matt was there, it had ruin everything.

“You’re a damn brat, maybe we can put you in your place isn’t it?” He states, his jaw still hardly clenched, his side profile being heavenly, like a sorta of Greek God had structured it.

You roll your eye as he guides you thru the big mansion he owned, every part of the place with different paintings and different furniture.

As you both go upstairs, he leads you to his room, the same time you step your feet inside, he is locking the door and pinning you against the wall, your faces being inches close.

“Now tell me hm? You wanted to be Mila didn’t you.” His strong cologne filled your nostrils, the same way your sweet scent filled his.

His hands creep up to your inner thigh, a sudden gasp leaving your mouth as you remain silent.

“What, cat got your tongue?” Matt utters, his soft lips attacking your neck, leaving wet kisses and marks, as his right hand kept going even more up arriving close to your pink laced panties.

His hand went fast to your core, how fast it was taken of there, as he picks you up in bridal style, positioning myself in his bed, as he tops me.

He pulls away my pink jersey throwing somewhere across his room, if someone ever told me i would be getting naked with the guy I hated, i would probably slapped me across the face.

His large hands find way to my denim skirt yanking it off, now i’m only left in my match bra and panties, how nice.

“You don’t need to lie, you’ve always wanted this as much as I did.” He commented ripping off my bra, my mouth wide how easily he had the strength to rip off the fabric.

“You owe me a new bra, idiot.”

He chuckles, as he pushes you close to him, his face leaning close to your stomach as he plants kisses along the way.

He gets each time closer to your core, making you clench around nothing, he pulls your panties to the side, with no warning, his tongue is deep down in my pussy, as a long moan leaves my lips.

I can feel the stupid smirk as he eats me out, his hands gripping my thighs to not let me move, he pulls leans up again, getting close to my face once again, smashing his lips against mine in a heavy roughy kiss, making me taste my juices in his tongue.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart.” The nickname made me wetter more then I was, i obey, sticking my tongue out, as he yanks his two fingers into, and i instinctively suck on them, dripping them with my saliva.

A wicked grin is planted on his face as the two digits are on my core, rubbing my puffy clit, as my mouth is open, soft moans leaving it which was music to his ears.

“Feels good getting pleasure by your enemy doesn’t it.” He expresses as his hands keep rubbing your clit faster.

“i still fucking hate you.” You spit it out, a loud moan leaving your mouth right after.

“The way your hips buck for more, it says otherwise doll.”

The please accumulated in your body leaves as he takes off the two fingers that were in your clit to his mouth, you watch him suck on it, tasting yourself once again.

Suddenly, his hands are removing his belt and his baggy jeans, seeing him in his Calvin Klein boxers, his hard cock wanting to be more than released.

Pulling his underwear down his dick hitting his stomach, you never had an idea he was that long, you can be a little thing but you like that long.

He leans down to your core, a full spit landing on it making you wince, your juices and his spit now combined.

He strokes himself a few times before slamming into you, a groan leaving his mouth as you moan in synchronization with him.

My head is thrown back, as he doesn’t give me time to adjust fully starting to thrust in and out of me, he wasn’t just some couple of inches, he had enough inches to bruise my cervix and leave me hanging for more.

“You liked being fuck like a slut don’t you?” He chuckles, keeping thrusting, my mind couldn’t even form words, my back arching for more, his dick had the perfect size to hit my g-sport.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, fuck.. I love it.” You moan our, your head throw back in his pillows, his hands finding way to smack your ass, the real meaning of pain and pleasure.

He smirks, as he gets closer to my face pulling me in a rough kiss, my moans being muffled by it, his thrusts were each time more rough then the before, he wasn’t like other guy that would fuck a girl just to cum inside her and leave, oh he was for sure waiting to see your face knowing he was the one giving you all the pleasure.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna.” Before you could finish your sentence you cum all around his dick making a mess in the sheets below.

“Making a mess on my dick like the fucking slut you are.”

He pulls out, stroking his dick a few times before painting your lower and upper body with his cum, before collapsing on top of you.

Sweaty beads were formed during the act, your panty and heavy breaths in sync together, as you catch your breath all you could hear was his deep voice echoing thru your ears.

“Y’know, instead of watching me suck your best friends neck, if you ever need my hands on you, don’t be scared to ask, it is better then keying my car for that attention.”

[caffeineaddictwriter]

The wolverine with reader who has a bunny mutation

reader has a bunny mutation, so they can form a bunny tail and ears that are both white. Can jump incredibly high and kick hard. There hearing can reach miles when ears are out.

Warnings: smut, p in v, breeding kink, hint of violence, some fluff.

•oh boy.

•Logan will take the piss out of you for the first while when yous first meet. After all you’re a “wild animal”.

•”so your most defenitly a stripper in disguise”

•but after a while he comes to love your bunny features.

•”cottontail”

•”thumper”

•”carrot eater”

•always coming up with new nicknames for you even if some of them piss you off but it’s all in good nature.

•once got many weird looks when he asked you if you cut holes in your pants for your tail. While in public.

•he won’t admit it but he thinks your the most adorable thing he’s ever fucking seen.

•instead of smacking your ass when he walks past you he squeezes your tail making you squeal and hit him playfully. He loves it.

•will run a finger up the spine of your ears to make you shiver.

•once tried to train with you. He thought you’d be to soft to take him on. You kicked him through the wall. He didn’t try to go easy again.

•buys you a carrot cake for your birthday to be ironic. You slammed a slice into his face but ate the rest.

•booped you on the nose once and you refused to have sex with him for three months.

•if he’s been away on a hard mission he enjoys how your cute little ass takes care of him. He’ll set you on his lap and just stroke your hair and ears.

•a lot of people think the look is cute. Especially guys in the bar when you’re with Logan. Logan is a very jealous man and won’t hesitate to beat the shit out of anyone that’s getting to confident.

•”my fucking bunny, you got that bub”

•loves watching you kick people with your strength. Also gets turned on by it.

•the first time he witnessed you kicking some ass hole across the room he was incredibly confused on why he got a boner.

•will stroke your ears when yous are making out just for the hell of it.

•will use your amazing hearing to his advantage. Will make lude sounds when your in the shower to make you either horny so he can come have you in the shower or make you get out faster so he can have you on the bed.

•now with the term “fuck like rabbits” he takes that literally now. He’ll be bending your cotton ass over any surface.

•he’ll hold your tail as he pounds into you just squeezing it ever so tighter when your getting close.

•”oh fuck that’s my good bunny~”

•”you take me so well just like a wild animal aye bun”

•most definitely loves taking you from behind so he can see your tail bobbing as he pounds his dick into you.

•if you go into heat you bet your ass he’ll be right there fucking you till you can only drool his name out your mouth.

•breeding kink can’t tell me otherwise. This man loves the idea of you filled with baby bunny’s.

•once when you were sucking him off he called his dick a rabbit so you bit it softly making his claws fly out.

•will buy you so much white lingerie. It goes with your ears and tail and it’s just so hot to him.

•laughs when you get in the shower or bath and your tail gets wet so you blow dry it or shake it like a wet dog.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)Wife

Chapter III: Dreams 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: You miss Aemond, yet you can’t stand to be near him. Will performing a new song about your separation make you feel better?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, toxic relationship dynamic, possessive Aemond, fighting, smut, oral (f receiving), spanking, thigh riding, P in V, thumb in bum, spit kink, degradation

Word count: 5750 A/N: Thank you always my love @theoneeyedprince ♡

“This is the third day in a row that guy comes in here, orders a coffee, and pretends to work on his laptop as he stares at you”, Alysanne whispers in your ear and points to the silver haired man sitting in the back corner of the campus coffee shop. 

He’s clad entirely in black, and his long hair is neatly tied in a low bun at the base of his neck. 

“You should go talk to him!”, she urges with a gentle push on your shoulder. 

“What? No. He’s not been staring at me”, you shut her nonsense down, slightly embarrassed by your friend's pushiness. Alysanne is such a hopeless romantic; always convinced that the love of your life’s lurking around the next corner, constantly looking for a ‘meet cute’ to thrust you into. 

“Oh, come on! He’s definitely been checking you out! Maybe he’s just shy?”, she argues, staring at the stranger unabashedly as he sips his coffee. Her lack of discretion fuels the nerves bubbling inside you, eager to end this embarrassing conversation as soon as possible. 

“Aly, please. A guy like that doesn’t get shy. Typical rich fuckboy”

He certainly is good-looking, and probably knows it as well, dark designer clothes a stark contrast to the surrounding patron’s jeans and sweatshirts. He looks to be around your age, a student as well, you’d guess. 

Alysanne hums in response, moves to stand by the display of sweets by the register, and places a cinnamon bun on one of the small dishes stacked on the counter. 

Before your protests stop her, she walks towards where the stranger is sitting, a wide smile plastered on her face, 

“Hi there! My lovely friend and coworker over there made these earlier today. Would you like one?” 

Her voice is unnaturally cheery as she places the dish on the table next to the stranger's laptop. 

He looks up, nods stiffly in confirmation, and quietly mumbles a “thank you” before quickly returning to type on the keyboard, eyes again on the screen. 

“Would you like to talk to her? I can ask her to come over here”, Alysanne offers, voice still upbeat, so energetic it nearly comes across as intrusive.   

The stranger seems slightly thrown off by her forwardness. He looks up at her in surprise, but stays silent. 

To anyone else, his stoicism and unfriendly demeanour would be enough reason to leave him be. But not Alysanne, who turns around to catch your eye and gesticulates for you to come over with an exaggerated wave of her hand. 

From behind the register, you’d watched the scene unfold in horror, certain that your friend would embarrass you to the point where ‘rich fuckboy’ would tell everyone on campus about what a freak you are. 

You slowly make your way over, eyes boring holes into Alysanne as you force yourself to smile, dreading the inevitable faked  niceties you’ll have to exchange with the strange, silver-haired man. 

His face is even prettier up-close. 

High cheekbones, strong jawline, sharp nose, beautiful eye- 

Your gaze stops at his left eye. The baby blue iris is covered by a thin mist of white, and a red, angry scar slashes through the socket, starting at his forehead and ending at cheekbone. 

“Hope you like it”, you blurt out, trying to grab Alysanne’s hand and tug her away from the unbelievably awkward interaction. She’s still smiling, dodging your hand while her attention stays on the stranger in front of you, 

“Would you like her number?”

Alysanne persistence causes dread to pool in your gut. God, she could be so forward it was disturbing; completely ignoring what you thought to be common social decency. 

Your heart is hammering in your chest as the stranger hums at your friend’s question, 

“Actually, I wanted to ask you about the open mic last week. Did you write that song?” 

“‘Planets of the Universe’? Um, yes, but it’s not really finished, um, I mean, I just sang it for fun, I was kinda drunk last Friday..”

Your babbling reflects how the stranger makes you feel; nervous and unsure. His face is impassive, and his tone so unemotional it borders on stern. 

You only performed that silly song because your friends were pushy and you were buzzing on way too many margaritas. Why does he care about who wrote it? 

“You’re not a guitarist, I assume?”, he asks and you notice the corners of his lips briefly turn upwards, as if to prevent a smile from breaking out. 

God, the audacity of this rich fuckboy. 

“No, but like I said, it was just for fun”, you bite back. 

You don’t care for his condescending tone, or his efforts to make you feel bad about your sub-par guitar skills. Does he not understand what ‘just for fun’ means? 

The stranger’s gaze is still locked on you as he hums in response. He stares with an intensity that leaves you feeling even more unsettled. 

“You’ve got a very unique voice” 

The unexpected compliment takes you by surprise, and a warmth spreads over your face; heating up your cheeks. 

“My siblings and I play a bit of music on the side, for fun” he says with an emphasis on the last part, mimicking you, “I think your voice would go well with the sound we’re trying to create”

He sounds very matter-of-fact, like he’s offering you a business proposal. You notice something shine in his intense gaze; something inviting that makes it hard for you to concentrate on what he says. 

“The song you performed has great potential, with a proper guitarist backing you up, that is. If you’re interested, we’re meeting up tomorrow night” 

You’re briefly lost for words, not expecting him to be so forward. Alysanne is practically vibrating with excitement next to you, glancing over at you with a wide smile and big, expectant eyes. 

“Sure, I’ll stop by after work” 

Your infatuation with Aemond started slow. 

Essentially, it was the small things he did that pushed you to the realisation that he isn’t just some ‘rick fuckboy’, but a quite caring and sensitive man. Albeit with a layer of stoicism obscuring his more tender side. 

Things like him insisting that he needs to walk you home after band practice, even if it’s still bright outside. Or him picking you up in his car when it rains, so you ‘don’t catch a cold’. Or him offering to help you with coursework, surprising you with detailed, hand-written notes tucked in between the pages of your textbook. 

Aemond is caring in such a genuine way, always asking you how your studies are going, how work at the campus cafe is like, if you’d eaten anything. Always straight-to-the-point. And when you answer, he listens to you with such intensity, you’d think whatever comes out of your mouth is of grave importance. For the most part, it’s not. 

You soon find yourself looking forward to seeing him, heart skipping a beat every time he picks you up after you've finished your shift at the cafe. He always waited outside of the cafe, observing you tidying up through the shop window with a cigarette glowing between his fingers. 

When he asks you one day if you’d like to grab dinner after practice, you eagerly accept his invitation, trying your hardest to hide the excitement you feel as he says a quick goodbye to his brother and sister before leading you out of the studio you used for practice. 

It’s not a date, not really, yet when you sit next to Aemond in that dimly lit booth at the rather posh Yi-Ti-inspired restaurant he’d picked, it sure feels like one. 

That night, after sharing a bottle of wine, your face is warm and you’re filled with alcohol-infused confidence. As you talk animatedly about your favourite musician, Aemond regards you with a small smile playing on his lips, eyes intensely meeting yours to take in all your telling him. You feel a sudden urge to kiss him, and though it is chaste and unplanned; a result of your slight intoxication, you feel mortified as you pull back, ready to apologise for placing your lips on his without consent. Before you have a chance, he places a hand on your cheek and pulls your face back towards his, kissing you passionately, though his lips are soft and gentle. 

As you pull away, eyes still closed and mind lost in the bliss of your first kiss, you hear Aemond murmur a quiet “finally”. 

As a partner, Aemond seems to study you just as diligently as he studies everything else. 

He quickly picks up on your favourite things.  

If you’d been admiring a particular flower when you passed by the flower shop on your way to campus, you’d later find a bouquet waiting for you at home. When you went to museums and exhibitions together, he’d lean in next to you, one hand gently on your waist and soft lips right by your ear, and tell you everything he knew about the artist or artwork in front of you. Later, he’d buy you postcards of the paintings you’d shown particular fascination with, so you could decorate your bedroom wall with them. 

Though he claimed that his knowledge of the arts simply stemmed from being a history major, explaining that “art is one of the greatest insights we have to previous decades”, you have a strong suspicion he actually knows so much because there’s a secret love for the arts tucked away inside him, where he keeps the more sensitive parts of his soul. 

Sometimes you’re privy to that too. 

Like the time he wanted to take you out to a fancy restaurant downtown to celebrate your six month anniversary. Being a student, you didn’t really have money to spend on anything besides rent and food, meaning that you hadn’t been able to reciprocate the lovely gifts Aemond had given you since you first got together. 

Determined to give him something meaningful, you purchase a small frame from the local charity shop, print out some pictures you’d taken together from the university library, and put together a little collage of your time as a couple. 

You include a message on the back of it, thanking him for everything he’s done for you; for being such a caring boyfriend. 

As you timidly hand him your homemade gift at the luxurious restaurant, you feel a storm of unease swirl within you, suddenly overcome with embarrassment that you couldn’t get him anything nicer. 

Aemond’s eyes light up in a way you’d hardly seen before. 

He turns the gift over in his hand, admiring the photo collage and reading the little message on the back. 

Grabbing your hand, he looks into your eyes and says a quiet “thank you”, and the gravity and sincerity of his voice lets you know that he appreciates the simple gift more than he can put into words. 

The coming week you stick to the same set list; kicking off each performance with ‘The Chain’ and finishing with ‘Go Your Own Way’. You’d like to pretend that the performances got easier as time went on, but that would be a lie. 

Each night, you’re forced to sing Aemond’s self-pitying words; ‘if I could, I’d give you my world’. You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes each time. What made him incapable of ‘giving you his world’ when you were married? He made it sound like he had no part in your divorce; like all he did was try and love you while you broke his heart. 

Fuck that. 

He broke your heart. And he kept breaking it. Every fucking night he made you sing his martyr complex bullshit. 

It wasn’t anything new, not really. This is how it so often went when you fought as a married couple, it had just taken a new form. The bones of it are the same; Aemond is upset and shuts you out, you try to reason with him and get burnt. 

There’s something about his attitude when you find yourselves in a fight. He could turn so condescending, berating you for your emotions. Like he’s better than you for not letting them get the best of him; for not shouting or crying. 

He thinks showing that something hurts him is a sign of weakness. That he’s too smart to let his insecurities and doubts overtake his senses. So he can pretend he doesn’t feel such unbecoming emotions. 

Even when they prove too strong to push down. 

Aemond has been quiet for the entire trip back home, jaw shut tight and eyes refusing to meet yours. 

You know something’s off in the way his usual stoicism doesn’t feel natural, but forced. He’s holding something back, keeping something from you, and you can’t figure it out for the life of you. 

As you enter your flat, he finally breaks the silence. 

“Did you like that?”

His voice is colder than you’re used to. You recognise the tone though, from when he’s had enough of Aegon’s endless shenanigans. 

You step out of your heels and turn around to face him, “Like what? The party?”

His face is set in a frown and he irritably clicks his tongue at your obliviousness, 

“You know what I mean, don’t play dumb” 

You really have no idea what could’ve prompted his sour mood, so you stay quiet, waiting for him to continue. You don’t feel like playing these games with him; they won’t lead anywhere. 

If he’d just tell you what made him upset, you could solve the issue and move on.  

He sighs at the lack of answer, “You liked all that attention, didn’t you?”  

Oh. 

He’s jealous. 

“Oh come on, Aemond, this is great for the band! We’re getting recognition! We’re recording our first album!”

You don’t want him to rob you off the excitement you’d felt today, talking to one of Westeros biggest record labels and finally getting the recognition you’d worked so hard for. 

He turns to face you, features still stern as he backs you into the wall, 

“But did you like it? The way that guy from the record label was eyeing you?”, he asks again. 

You know Aemond has a tendency to get protective of you; fussing over you and insisting that you listen to him. And when he’s caring, and when you feel anxious, it feels comforting to have someone protect you so fiercely. But you’re not a child, and he doesn’t have to treat you as one. 

“Why would I like it?”

Your challenge makes him move closer. You see the way his pupil is blown wide, the heat in his gaze radiating off him. 

“I think you did. I think you enjoy the attention”

It’s almost laughable; the fact that Aemond Targaryen, undoubtedly one of the most alluring people you’ve ever met, feels threatened by some sleazy guy from a record label. How could he think some guy flirting with you would affect your affection for him even in the slightest? 

Still, there’s something intriguing about the dark look in his eye. It’s so passionate; the way he observes you. Like he wants to devour you. Punish you. Claim you. 

It sparks something alight inside you. You want to match his fire.  

“Maybe I did”

You have to bite your lip to prevent a smirk from breaking out. Will he fall for the provocation? 

Aemond’s eyes narrow. They travel from your face down to your body, and his arms come up to cage you against the wall of your hallway, 

“You like tormenting me, is that it?”, he asks lowly and presses the tip of his nose to the side of your face, trailing it down your cheek. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, lowering your lips to press kisses onto his neck, 

“Yes”, you say against his skin, a light chuckle escaping your lips. 

It’s almost cute when he gets like this, and so flattering in the most twisted way. He’s just as enchanted by you as you are by him. 

He startles you by pulling away, grabbing you by your waist and flipping your body so you’re suddenly facing the wall. 

He rucks up the short skirt of your cocktail dress with much more force than necessary and a firm smack lands on your ass. The sudden sting of pain makes you inhale sharply and you feel your pulse elevate with excitement.  

Behind you, Aemond drops to his knees, kisses your stinging backside, and pulls at the flimsy material of your thong until it tears in two, falling to the floor. 

His insatiable display causes desire to pulse within you; an ache that nestles itself between your thighs and beats as fast as your heart. 

Pushing on your lower back, he urges you to lean forward as he continues to soothe the aching flesh of your ass with sweet kisses. 

The chill air of the room feels strange against your hot, wet cunt, and you wish he’d touch you in the place you needed him most. The place that painfully pounds with want for him. 

As if he could read your mind, Aemond grabs the front of your thighs with his large, warm hands and he presses his face against your exposed cunt, unwilling to waste any more time as he swipes his tongue over your swollen clit. 

You moan in gratitude and your forehead falls to make contact with the wall in front of you, the sweat of your forehead sticking to the cool surface. 

He knows exactly how to work you; how to make you squirm and tense up and reach your peak in no time. 

With each movement of his tongue against your clit, you feel your peak grow closer; an embarrassingly fast release only your beloved could elicit. 

As you lose yourself in the pleasure, and your hips begin to move in tandem with Aemond’s tongue, his debauched kisses lessen, and he pulls away from your cunt, wiping his sticky face against the back of your thigh. 

You let out a frustrated whine, turn around to face him, and look down at him, still on his knees. 

“That’s just cruel, Aemond”

He looks so beautiful kneeling in front of you, long hair dishevelled and cheeks flustered pink. 

“Maybe I like tormenting you as well”

He still has that darkness dancing in his eyes, but now accompanied by the playful grin that’s spreading across his face. He stands, leans in so closely your body gets pushed against the wall behind you, and places one of his legs between your naked thighs, 

“Beg me to fuck you”

He rocks his jeans-clad thigh against your exposed core as he makes his demand; blue colour quickly darkening from the stain of your arousal. 

You throw your head back and moan at the pleasurable friction, the harshness of the fabric providing wonderful relief to your aching clit. Your hips quickly meet the rhythm of his thigh, and when he lowers his face to bite at your nipple through the thin material of your dress, you feel your previously denied release approach once more. 

You move yourself more forcefully against his thigh, and as your movements turn sloppy from pleasure tightening inside you, he pulls away yet again.  

You know you look like a mess with your hair frizzy from the friction of the wall, spit covering the fabric over your nipple, and the lower part of your body fully exposed; inner thighs sticky from arousal. 

“Aemond, please”, you whine as he straightens up, face wholly entertained by your miserable state. 

“Beg me to fuck you”, he repeats, this time slower and with emphasis on each word. 

You bite your lip and look at him. You can see the hardness of his cock straining against his jeans, but you know he’ll never relent; never give you what you want until you give him what he wants. 

“Please”, you plead, hands moving forward his zipper to undo his trousers. 

He tuts and slaps your hands away, 

“Beg”, he repeats, face returning to its previous, stern expression. 

You’d like to think you’re as good as him at playing these games. But you’re not. You don’t have the patience. 

“Please fuck me Aemond. Please make me come, please make me feel good, please stretch me out on your cock, please-” 

Your pathetic surrender is cut off by his lips on yours, kissing you passionately, stealing your breath. 

Pulling down his zipper, he takes his length in hand; rock hard and glistening with arousal. He pushes your body up against the wall and you quickly catch on, wrapping your legs around him as he enters you in one swift motion. 

“Fuck! Thank you!”, you cry out when he finally gives you what you want, and an amused snort espaces his nose. 

Aemond wastes no time in ravishing you and sets a brutal pace, pelvis repeatedly hitting your clit as his cock hits your g-spot. You’re unable to do much more than to just take it; take the mind-numbing pleasure he’s forcing upon you. 

For the third time, your peak is within reach, so close your cunt starts to tighten around Aemond’s cock. To your dismay, his pace slows, and you’re back to begging,  

“Please, I’m so close. Please let me come Aemond”

He pulls out, smiles at the devastated frown on your face, and turns you around once more. 

This time, he presses your body against the small side table by the front door, pushing his hand on the back of your head so that the side of your face makes contact with the wooden surface, ass prettily propped up and glistening entrance waiting for him. 

He presses the slick tip of his cock against your leaking hole, and pauses without entering. His large form looms over you as his hand reaches for your face, thumb stroking your lower lip, pulling it down to reveal your teeth, 

“Who do you belong to?”

His voice is lower, and calmer, than before. You look up at him; at his lust-filled eyes and kiss-swollen lips. 

You. Always you.

“You” 

Aemond’s thumb is still on your lower lip. He leans down and pushes his length fully into you again, making you let out a cry in blissful relief. 

God it feels so good. 

You see him purse his lips together, spit collecting between them, and he slowly lets it drip down to where his thumb is. 

Onto your lower lip, your tongue, your teeth. 

He smears his spit around your lips and tongue with his thumb, pace of his hips picking up to thrust into you harder. The table beneath you rocks against the wall aggressively loud. 

“Would you let anyone else fuck you like this?”, he asks, trailing his spit-soaked thumb down your body, stopping between your asscheeks to push at your puckered hole. “Never”, you assure, moaning as he pushes his thumb in, never ceasing the pace he’s set as he fucks you on the table. “Didn’t think so. You’re my little slut. Mine. No one else will ever see you as fucking cockdrunk as I do”

Maybe it’s the heat of his tone. The dark, possessive passion that excites you, even in its volatility. 

Maybe it’s the way he knows your body. How he can turn you into a begging, pathetic mess by the briefest of touches. 

It’s hard to decipher what makes your orgasm feel so utterly consuming, but when it hits, and your body shakes from the force of it, you know that no one else will ever have this effect on you. 

You. Always you.

You’ve made it a habit to go back to your hotel room between the sound check and the show, not able to bear spending more time around Aemond than absolutely necessary. 

Both of you had tried to keep up with the cordial act, but even Erryk had started to catch on to how forced each of your interactions felt. Whenever you or Aemond addressed the other, everyone around you tense up and the air feels thick; like you’re all just waiting for what’s bubbling beneath the surface to finally erupt. 

Tonight, as you’re getting ready for the tour’s fifth stop in White Harbor, no amount of breathing exercises seem to lessen your nerves, making your hands clammy and heart flimmer in anxious anticipation. 

You’re finally going to perform one of your new songs for Rumours. 

What if the fans hate it? 

Writing has helped you deal with the aftermath of your separation; a tedious effort to make the painful end of your relationship into something meaningful. A song about lost love. 

What if it sounds awful live? 

Recording separately means that this will be the first time the band actually plays the song, as opposed to each member recording their own part in solitude. 

The song sounded good in post-production. It’ll sound great live too.

You try to repeat the comforting phrase to yourself as you spot Aemond and Alys in your peripheral vision; her arms around his neck, his lips coming down to brush against her cheek. 

You don’t know if you’d rather barf or cry at the display, but when Aemond’s seeing eye briefly searches for yours, your stomach turns in disgust.

The intro of your new song starts to play; upbeat drums accompanied by a melancholic guitar melody. Aemond plays it flawlessly, just like you knew he would.

This is it. Your time to shine; to actualise the pain that’s been wearing you down for the past months. To make it into something that means something. 

Your music.

‘Now there you go again, you say, you want your freedom’

‘Well who am I to keep you down?’ 

You don’t want to look at Aemond, don’t want to mimic the staring contest he challenges you to each time he sings ‘The Chain’ or ‘Go Your Own Way’. 

You’re not doing this for him, you’re doing this for yourself. To make sense of the suffering he’s caused you. You’re doing it for the fans; all those who can resonate with what you’re singing.

‘But listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness’

‘Like a heartbeat drives you mad in the stillness of remembering what you had’

‘And what you lost’

Oh but gods, do you want to throw him a quick glance though. 

See hurt in his eye. 

See his jaw tick in anger at your words. 

‘Thunder only happens when it’s raining’ 

‘Players only love you when they’re playing’ 

Now you understand why he wanted you to do backup vocals on his new songs. You feel so powerful as you make him sing your lyrics, a sudden rush of hubris getting the best of you as you steal a glance of him.

‘They say women, they will come and they will go’

‘When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know’ 

You’re disappointed to find him in his usual state, stoic face turned away from you.

The recent rage-filled, passionate tone his voice had adopted is gone. He sounds just as calm and precise as he usually does. 

‘Now here I go again, I see the crystal vision’

‘I keep my visions to myself’

‘It’s only me who wants to wrap around your dreams’

‘Have you any dreams you’d like to sell?’

‘Dreams of loneliness like a heartbeat drives you mad’

‘In the stillness of remembering what you had’

‘And what you lost’

Like the previous nights, you’re in a rush to get back to your hotel room as soon as the show ends. 

As are your bandmates; no one really enjoys the tension that seems to be a permanent feature whenever you are all in the same room. 

As you’re about to jump into a taxi with Helaena outside of the venue, you realise that you forgot the tote bag you keep your notebooks and music sheets in backstage. You tell her to go ahead and quickly make your way back to retrieve your forgotten bag. 

A security guard lets you back in and you spot your tote immediately, laying on one of the many cheap fold-out tables lining the walls of the room. As you make your way towards it, you hear someone clear their throat in the other corner of the room. 

You’ve no idea what he wants, but you turn around in an instance, leaving your bag on the table. 

Aemond is sitting by himself in a dark corner of the large room, stomping out a cigarette onto the silver ashtray he's holding in his left hand. He places it on the ground and leans back in his seat, 

“I never said that, you know”. 

His voice is low. He sounds tired. 

“Said what?”

You’re still sadistically disappointed by the fact that he’d acted so indifferent during your performance of ‘Dreams’, and it reflects in your voice. He has a talent of bringing it out of you.

“I never said ‘women come and go’, or whatever. The reporter said it” 

His voice grows more irksome with each word, matching yours. 

Sure, he hadn’t said it. But he might as well have. 

“Whatever, Aemond”, you sigh, too tired to engage in pointless discussion with him. You turn to leave, reaching for your bag, but he stops you once again,  

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t perform that song again”.

You let out a startled, joy-less laugh at his audacity, “Too bad”

“Then change the lyrics. It’s obviously about our… relationship” 

You can sense strain in his voice. He’s holding something back.

Maybe you finally got to him.

“So are your new songs”, you counter. 

He is such a hypocrite, it’s almost laughable. An unbecoming characteristic of his that reared its ugly head more frequently as your relationship got worse. 

“I never say they are though. You’re quoting me, hard to assume it could be about anyone else”

His voice is low and dark, you have to focus to properly hear him. 

“Thought you didn’t say that?”

You have to bite the inside of your lower lip to keep yourself from grinning as you add, 

“Maybe the song is about the reporter?” 

The provocation works. Aemond swiftly stands up, seeing eye dark and threatening as his voice grows louder, 

“My songs aren’t filled with blatant lies, you’re calling me names and shit” 

His nostrils are flaring as he breathes heavily, hand flexing in an attempt to stifle his rage. 

You’d got to him. 

“You can’t be for real, Aemond! Every fucking time you perform your new songs you're staring at me on stage, singing about how I can ‘go my own, lonely way’! You have no right dictating what I write or how I express myself”. 

He’d gotten to you too. You can’t hide your irritation any longer, a whole week being in his insufferable presence proving to be too much.  

It’s his turn to throw a condescending laugh your way. 

“Well, you’re the one who kept going on about how lonely you were”

Back when you were still together, when the fights had became a permanent, unavoidable recurrence, you had accused Aemond of never truly letting you in, leaving you feeling lonely in your relationship. 

But there’s a difference between feeling disconnected from your partner, and being unable to be on your own. 

“You couldn’t be alone for a second, Aemond, that’s how fucking lonely you are. How long did it take you to hook up with Alys? 3 days!?”

“Because you left me!”, he shouts back. 

And there it is; the anger that he pretends he doesn't have within himself. The ugly, raw emotion he thinks he’s too good to let overtake his senses. 

His voice isn’t cold anymore. 

His face isn’t indifferent. 

His eyes shine with heartbreak, but so do yours. 

“You chased me away with your fucking obsessive behaviour! You deserved to be left!” 

Sometimes when you fought when you were married, you’d hold yourself back, still trying to protect Aemond’s feelings to some degree by not purposefully hurting him just because you were angry. 

Not anymore. 

He grimaces slightly at your words and you feel a sick sense of satisfaction.

He deserves it. 

You can’t bear to look at him, and you can’t hear anything either, heartbeat thumping in your ears so loudly it’s giving you a headache. 

If you stay, and see that the fire in his eye has been extinguished by regret, you might cave in. 

You can’t. 

So you turn around, grab your bag in a haste and storm out of the door, rushing to get hold of a taxi on the busy street by the venue. 

You hold it together in the car ride to the hotel. You thank the driver and offer him a tip, you enter the building and go to the elevator, smile at an elderly couple who engage you in some polite smalltalk about the weather. 

It’s not until you enter your hotel room and lock the door behind you that you allow the tears to fall. 

They seem endless, and all you want to do is crawl into bed and sleep. 

Seeing the empty space, the empty bed, makes you feel so lonely a stinging pain goes through your chest. You're pulled back to the memories of living with Aemond, coming back home to him; sleeping in the same bed as him. 

You miss him so much it hurts. Not the person you’d just had a fight with backstage. You miss the Aemond he was before; your Aemond. 

You think about the Aemond in the museum, who’d tell you about the history of the Water Gardens and Prince Maron Martell.

You think about the Aemond that kissed your forehead before each show. 

You think about the Aemond that loved you. 

You go to your closet, stretch your arm all the way to the back, and search for what you know to be there. Your hand finds the soft sweatshirt and you pull it out from the dark corners of your hotel room closet, quickly pulling off all of your clothes until you’re standing in nothing but your underwear. 

Aemond’s uni hoodie still smells like him. You cry harder, uglier, as you put it on, burying your nose in the fabric and inhaling deeply. 

Maybe the Aemond you miss still exists in your dreams. 

You get under the duvet, nose still nuzzled in the soft fabric and body shaking from the violent sobs leaving your body, and fall asleep.

A/N: Before you ask, no. She doesn’t know if Aemond met Alys exactly three days after their separation. She’s exaggerating for emphasis, as one often does when fighting. The point is that he “moved on” suspiciously fast.

Planets of the Universe is a demo song that never made it onto Rumours, but it so good; very raw and real. TY for reading 🩵

[exqorcism]

NSFW ALPHABET. .. . 𓍯／ FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW

𓏲࣪ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆. .. . father charlie x fem!reader

warnings. smut. minors dni. ‛ literally anything smut related you can think of.. . . the title speaks for itself a/n. ۫ ⁎ . i put my whole soul and pussy into this 🫠 i love father charlie so much i got a little bit carried away... hope you enjoy! english is not my first language

⠀𝓐 ྀི is for 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 ┊what he's like after sex

i feel like it depends — if he's in a rush, he'll leave you with a quick kiss on the forehead. if he has no duties to fulfil, he'll make sure to clean you up, run you a bath, give you clothes so that you can change and then cuddle with you until you fully come down. he doesn't usually stay for the night, for obvious reasons, but he makes sure you're comfortable & not in pain before he leaves <3

𝓑 ྀི is for 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 ┊his favourite part of your & his' body

charlie's favourite part of his own body would definitely be his hands and arms. every time your gaze lingers on his arms for a second too long, he purposely flexes his muscles, his already prominent veins popping out even more — he secretly enjoys seeing you flustered.

charlie's the type of man to worship the ground you walk on. he finds everything about you perfect, flawless; beautiful. but i feel like he would definitely be an ass guy — he loves seeing it smack against his hips when he fucks you from the behind, but he also loves casually putting his hand on your backside, giving it a quick, loving squeeze. i also definitely think he'd have a thing for your thighs and neck.

𝓒 ྀི is for 𝐂𝐔𝐌 ┊anything to do with cum, basically

100% sure he's a one dirty motherfucker. cumming inside, on your tits or ass, on your thighs, on your face, in your mouth... let's say, he's not afraid of being messy. he loves to see you covered in his seed, watching you lick it off your fingers or swallow it when he cums in your mouth. extra points for when you let him cum inside you and he can watch it slowly drip out of your used hole screamingggg!!!!

pretty sure he's also into cum eating. when he pulls out, he wastes no time in burying his face in your pussy, lapping up everything that leaves your cunt, shamelessly moaning while doing so.

𝓓 ྀི is for 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 ┊a dirty secret of his'

he steals your panties. 100%. apart from stealing them from your clothesline, he often stuffs them in his pocket after a quickie in his office, or after fingering you. he has a pretty big collection.

𝓔 ྀི is for 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ┊how experienced is he?

have you seen this man? i feel like before he became a priest, he used to hook up with both girls and boys, exploring his sexuality, developing new kinks. yes, i definitely do think he has a lot of experience, no questions needed.

𝓕 ྀི is for 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ┊self explanatory

missionary. he wants to see every reaction engraved on your face as he ruins you. he totally keeps eye contact and talks you through it. ugggghhhhhh

doggy style. as i said before — he loves to see your ass jiggle as he thrusts into you, hitting that spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars. you should expect spanking, hair-pulling, choking, messy and wet kisses...

standing fuck? fucking up into you as he holds you up in his arms. you can grind down into him as he ruts his hips up, hitting that special spot inside you that has both of you seeing stars. he can press you against the wall or press his back against it; or just stand in the middle of the room and pound you while kissing you messily. it's definitely a n1 favourite of his. i'm twitching

when he's feeling submissive (which happens more than he'd like to admit...), he loves it when you ride him. he can lazily thrust up into you, matching your rhythm as you take your sweet time. extra points if you put your hand on his neck, choking him. he's gonna cum in seconds UGHDSKDKEO

𝓖 ྀི is for 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐘 ┊is he more serious/humorous?

i feel like he takes sex very seriously. for him, it's a connection that goes deeper than your bodies — he also feels like the act pushes your souls together. of course, he can break the tension by saying something teasing and playful, earning a chuckle out of you — but for most part, he's focused on fucking you, getting too lost in the sensation to care about anything else.

𝓗 ྀི is for 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 ┊how well groomed is he?

he's keeping things really clean down there. charlie takes a lot of pride in his appearance so i don't think it's any different when it comes to this aspect. he is not completely shaved, but also not too hairy (if you know what i mean).

𝓘 ྀི is for 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐘 ┊how romantic is he during the moment?

i think charlie's more of a rough, passionate lover. although... when he's had a bad day, or when you're in a bad mood, he definitely takes a good care of you. kissing all over your face, whispering how perfect you look under him, how much he loves you 🥲🥲

𝓙 ྀི is for 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅𝐅 ┊masturbation headcanon

charlie doesn't masturbate that often ever since he met you. he knows he can have you anytime, anywhere he wants, so he doesn't see a reason why he should pleasure himself. if you're away, on a business trip or busy with your college and studies, though, he 100% masturbates with your panties. he wraps them around his cock and jerks off, watching the amateur—sex—tapes you film on his phone — and, of course, he cums in your underwear.

𝓚 ྀི is for 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 ┊one or more of his' kinks

you can't convince me this man isn't an one freaky motherfucker. i can think of so many things he could be into...

"father" kink. as much as he loves it when you call him by his name, when it comes to sex — "father" gets him going more than anything. he loves having that kind of power over you.

hear me out... pain kink. whether it's you digging your fingers into the wounds on his back, or biting on his neck until it's bleeding... HE LOVES THAT. he would also love it if you let him whip you during sex at least once. bust ‼️ alert ‼️

size kink. he loves the fact that he can pick you up anytime and anywhere and straight up fuck you against the wall. he loves it when you're a whimpering, drooling mess while sucking his dick, how you can barely take it when he's fucking you. it only urges him to go harder <3

degradation && praise all at once. whether it's him calling you a "greedy whore" only to coo how good you take him the next second, or if you take the lead and call him names. he rarely is submissive, but when he is — he's gonna beg you to call him his "pathetic, good boy" 😩

and of course some more "basic" stuff, like choking, hair—pulling, ass slapping, finger sucking... oh how he ! loves ! finger sucking. especially when he's feeling a little subby 😩

𝓛 ྀི is for 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ┊favorite places to do it in

he likes a little risk. he'll fuck you in the church, on the pray bench, on the altar, on his priest chair, in the confessional booth... after hours, of course. and, obviously, his bedroom. in the privacy of his room, he can do whatever he wants to do to you and not hold back.

𝓜 ྀི = 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ┊what turns him on, gets him going

seeing you pray. there's something about you on your knees, your hands folded, lashes fluttering against your cheeks... it makes him feel as if you're praying for him — so he wastes no time in lifting you up and fucking you until you're crying and begging him to stop <333

𝓝 ྀི is for 𝐍𝐎 ┊something he wouldn’t do / turn offs

as much as charlie loves rough, kinky sex, he would never do anything to hurt you for real. of course, he likes a little pain, maybe knife play if you're into it — but he'd never push you to your limits.

also, don't ask that man for a threesome. for your own sake.

𝓞 ྀི is for 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 ┊preference in giving / receiving, skill, etc.

that man is a MUNCH. he knows what he's doing and he prides himself on it. he could spend hours between your thighs, watching your legs shake and pussy gush, and he still wouldn't be satisfied. he eats you out any given occasion, moaning and groaning into your cunt as your sweet juices coat his tongue <333333

as much as he loves to eat you out, he also loves it when you go down on him. he has definitely been teaching you how to deepthroat him, making you take him deeper and deeper each time. he also loves it when you take your sweet time with him, though, pushing him to his limits until he's cumming down your throat so. hard.

𝓟 ྀི is for 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ┊fast and rough or slow and sensual?

charlie switches between the two. if he wants you to punish you for misbehaving, he's gonna go rough and fast. if he wants to relax after a long day of fulfilling his church duties, he's gonna take his sweet time with you.

𝓠 ྀི is for 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 ┊opinions on quickies / how often / etc.

yes yes and yes. charlie's a very busy man, so quickies are his way to go. he'll take you anywhere and anytime, between masses he holds, between his meetings... he craves for you way too much not to.

𝓡 ྀི is for 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊┊ experimenting / taking risks — yes or no?

he's all in for exploring new kinks, new places to do it in. he wouldn't risk losing his position in the church, though. but! if you ask him to try a new position, a new kink you've seen online, he'll be all in. he'd even let you peg him (and he'd secretly enjoy it because he's a subby bitch).

𝓢 ྀི is for 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀 ┊how many rounds / how long does he last?

i wholeheartedly believe he can go for 2-3 rounds. sometimes, though, he's too touch deprived to let it end, even if he's already came 3 times. he'll just let you use him until you're satisfied. he secretly loves to be overstimulated tbh 😩

𝓣 ྀི is for 𝐓𝐎𝐘𝐒 ┊does he use toys on you / himself?

so, we all know charlie owns a butt plug... and of course he'd love you to wear one yourself. as i mentioned before, he has a thing for your ass, and seeing a shiny, preferably black plug between your butt cheeks makes him so. fucking. hard. besides that, he would also !LOVE! it if you played with his ass — fucking it with the buttplug, later on pegging him, making him sob into the mattress. just know, he's gonna BUST!

making you put on panties with build-in vibrator when you're out in public. yes yes and yes. he'd have that smug smile on his face while putting it on the highest setting, making you wet your chair. he loves seeing you all hot and bothered, biting your lip to suppress your moans 😩🙏🏻

maybe he'd also let you put a vibrating cock ring on him while he's holding a mass... trying to focus on the bible in front of him while you turn the setting up, making him literally twitch against the pedestal. but he loves a little risk, and the pleasure is definitely worth it.

when he's fucking you, though — except for the butt plug — he doesn't use any toys on you. he wants to be the only one making you feel good with his hands, cock and mouth. who needs any toys when you have father charlie all for yourself, in your bed?

𝓤 ྀི is for 𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 ┊how much he likes to tease

"tease" is literally charlie's second name. he'll make you beg, cry, scream for it, and he won't let you cum until he's fully satisfied with the sounds you make. if you push his buttons, teasing him in public, "accidentally" bumping against him... oh, girl. he's gonna make sure you don't cum until you're crying, whimpering and on your knees, begging for it.

𝓥 ྀི is for 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 ┊is he loud? what sounds does he make?

he's so loud and you can't prove me otherwise. he wants to make sure you know how good you're making him feel. he groans, moans, growls, gasps, occasionally whimpers... that, combined with his dirty, degrading and praising words makes you see stars every time.

𝓦 ྀི is for 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 ┊a random headcanon for the character

he loves to fuck you while you're on the phone with your mother. he's gonna pound into you hard, deep and rough, sending you an open—mouthed smirk that he knows makes you melt. he's gonna instruct you to pick up the phone while you're sitting on his face, his tongue and fingers working altogether to drive you insane. he just loves loves loves to see you struggle.

𝓧 ྀི is for 𝐗-𝐑𝐀𝐘 ┊what’s going on under those priest clothes

approximately 8-9 inches and THIIICCCC. you can't convince me that man isn't humongous. it's slightly curved to the left, his tip is pretty and pink, and there's sooo many veins adorning his length.

𝓨 ྀི is for 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ┊how high is his sex drive?

it depends on how busy he is. if he has a lot of church duties to fulfill, a lot of meetings to attend, his sex drive is much lower. but other than that — he could fuck you all day and still not be satisfied. i would say you definitely do it at least 6-7 times a week 🎀

𝓩 ྀི is for 𝐙𝐙𝐙 ┊how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards?

before charlie lets his tiredness get the best of him, he makes sure you're all tucked in, cleaned up and in a fresh clothes. in the warm embrace of your arms, with your head on his chest, he feels safer than ever. he falls asleep by your side almost immediately <333

❝ hoffmansgirl © 2025 | do not copy, translate, recreate or plagiarise my content. 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗦 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ❞

tags (click here to be added): @darlingnikkisixxxx @titsout4jackles @brlwla @blackynsupremacy @mrs-riddlexo @essentialwriter @nicholaschavezslut69 @niteskysx @emluvsuxo @nicholaslut @greengoblinswifey @sin-deciric @onlyangelicc @urlitttlevenicebitch @violetidk @motherismotheringggg @c-cobweb @rosetintmworld @iamsebastiansstan

[stargirlmaybank]

camgirl // jj maybank

y/n turns up in new clothes and jj figures out how she can afford it

MDNI !!! 18+

Word count: 3.2k

a/n: hi so this is my first ever smut and of course it had to be with jj maybank so let me know what you think!

warnings: smut, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), penetration (f receiving), choking, dirty talk, overstimulation, daddy kink!jj, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), filming sex

"are those new clothes?" you hear the voice of kiara. you look down at my new denim levi's shorts and white crocheted crop top. they were new, you'd gotten them today and couldn't wait to wear them for the first time. you shrug your shoulders slightly as you settle myself into a chair around the fire, in between jj and kie, "oh, yeah i got them today. um, had some good tips this week". it wasn't technically a lie, working at the country club where the kooks went brought in some decent money, but definitely not enough to afford splurging on clothes, so your spending money came from other ventures. kie seems to glance at the outfit for a moment before dropping the subject and turning over to listen to pope. 

you take in your surroundings after getting situated, looking at the group of pogues you spend all my time with. your eyes settle on jj, who is looking at the new clothes with an unreadable expression on his face. when he realises your staring, he draws his gaze up to meet yours. you tilt your head a little and raise your eyebrows slightly as if to say 'what's up' without saying anything at all. he returns the look with a shrug and tears his eyes away to concentrate on his beer bottle as he lifts it up to his lips to take in a drink. you briefly take note of his behaviour, before eventually chalking it up to him being buzzed. 

the group end up spending a couple hours of the evening out in front of the chateau, chatting and drinking, trying to forget about losing the cross of santo domingo to rafe. it seems to be all they do lately, the dream of going "full pogue" slipping through their fingers time and time again. this is what spurred your decision to make an onlyfans account; the extra money. it'd only been a few weeks since you started up your account, but it's been growing steadily as you post more and more, from photos to videos. that's where your clothes came from, not that you could tell kie that. your friends wouldn't judge you and you knew that, but it's still not the most casual topic. 

glancing at your phone, you spot the time reading just past midnight. you know you have content to film and edit tonight and it'll take you a while, so you'd better start heading back. since luke disappeared, you've been staying at jj's in the spare room, so now is the best time to film while he's still here. "'m gonna head out guys, before i fall asleep in this chair," you mutter, stretching your legs and standing up. your friends say goodbye, but not before john b offers to let you stay at the chateau. "nah it's alright, but thank you jb. you coming home tonight jayj?" you turn to jj. he flicks his eyes up to you, stopping for a moment to think. "uh, yeah probably. not sure when i'll be back though," he replies nonchalantly, to which you offer a small nod and smile in response. walking away from your friends, you head back to jj's on your bike.

after getting back home, you set up your phone on the tripod in front of your bed, and change into some lacy blue lingerie. the room was dark, apart from the soft warm glow of the bedside lamp, and the dim tripod ring light illuminating your body. you set the camera to record, then get settled on the bed in the lens view. your hands trail down your body, stopping to give attention to your tits as your fingers circle your nipples over the lace of your bra. letting out a short sigh, you reach around your body to unhook the clasp behind your back, before sliding the material off of your body. your hands quickly returning to your chest, swirling and pinching your hardened nipples as your breathing becomes more shallow.

you let your right hand stop and slowly trail down your abdomen, the feather-like touch causing your stomach to twitch. as you reach your panties, you let your fingertips slip underneath to graze at the skin under the waistband before peeling them off your body at a torturous pace, teasing the camera. you slip your legs out of the thong before tossing it aside and opening your legs wider to reveal your glistening pussy, already slick with your arousal. your hand glides down your inner thigh before settling on your entrance. bringing your middle finger up, you collect your wetness, stopping at your sensitive clit. you rub lazy circles, sending a jolt through your body, and drawing out breathy moans from your mouth. 

you increase the pace of the circles on your clit as you drag your left hand away from your boobs and placing your middle finger just at the entrance of your hole. "i know you want me, daddy," you whine to the camera, pushing in your middle finger with a loud moan and setting a brutal pace. adding a second finger, you slam into your pussy, the sounds of your wetness and your moans filling the room. "god, you fill me up so good daddy," you whine as you continue pleasuring yourself, the familiar knot slowly creeping into your stomach. you don't slow down, desperately chasing your high, muttering 'fuck' and 'god' under your breath as the sensation grows stronger. your mind starts going hazy, focussing purely on the pleasure you're drawing out of yourself.

and that's why you didn't pick up on the opening and closing of the front door, or the footsteps inside the house. all you heard was your moans, and the pounding of your pussy. and that's why you don't notice your door slightly opening, or the body standing in the gap as your vision goes black while your orgasm rips through you for the first time tonight. you let go all over your fingers, their movements slowing down but not stopping to prolong your high for as long as possible. you desperately try to control your rapid breathing as spots of vision begin to trickle into your eyes. that's when you spot him. jj, stood in the doorframe, darkened eyes trained directly on your soaked hands. 

"fuck," you gasp desperately trying to cover yourself up, away from his gaze as the video rolls on. his face has a smug expression all over it as he leans on the doorframe and crosses his arms. "so this is why you left early. and why you were parading around in new clothes," he glances to the tripod before returning back to you. you go to speak, but stutter miserably, sitting up with your knees pressed into your body. "jayj-" "no need to explain, i see what's going on here," he chuckles lowly. "i knew you weren't getting money from new clothes from that country club. you've been showing off your pretty pussy to get some money. it's okay baby, i get why they'd pay to see it. i mean, i would." your cheeks burn in embarrassment of getting caught, eyes darting around the room for something to put on. jj shuts the door and settles himself in a chair across the room. "don't stop on my account. i'd be happy to hear your pretty little moans as you fuck yourself with your fingers. unless..." he trails off. "unless what?" your words come flying out, earning a breathy laugh in response. "unless you really want to give them a show hm? show them what sounds come out of you when you're filled up on cock."

you nod slightly, and within a second, jj crosses the room and connects his mouth to yours in a bruising kiss, his hands flying to your body, settling one on your hip and one on your tits. you moan into his mouth as he digs his fingers into your hip. slipping his tongue into your mouth he takes control as you reach for the belt looped into his shorts. with shaky hands from adrenaline, you unto the buckle, followed by the button of his shorts, desperately trying to strip him of his clothing until he's at your level. his hands leave your body only to push down his shorts and lift his shirt over his head, the clothing joining the pile on the floor where your underwear landed. 

your hand falls over the outline of his cock through his underwear, taking in a sharp breath as you feel the size of him under the material. this earns you a grin from jj as he kneels onto the bed at the side of you. "'m gonna fill you up princess. gonna pound into you until you can't take it anymore and beg me to stop," he taunts, pulling you up onto your knees, sideways to the camera. teasingly, he pulls down his underwear to the bottom of his thighs to reveal his cock, already painfully hard at the sight of you. he's huge, with prominent veins snaking up the sides from the base to his blushing tip. 

he strokes your head before grabbing a handful of your hair. "think you can take me in your mouth baby? put those pretty lips around my cock," he guides your head down by your hair until you're face level with his cock. you spit on it, wrapping your hand around the base and sliding up and down to cover it. you start slowly jerking him off while you dart your tongue out to lick the beads of precum off of his slit. you hear him groan, then feel his hand roughly grab your jaw. "don't tease me princess. open your mouth" he spits out, letting go of your jaw to grab your hair tighter. you open your mouth, placing your lips around his tip and softly sucking. he takes a sharp breath at the contact, before thrusting his hips forward and pushes his cock further into your mouth while he holds your head still by his hair. you splutter around him at the unexpected movement, earning a moan from his lips. 

"that's it. fucking take it y/n. that's my little slut," he sets a fast pace, roughly fucking your mouth as his tip hits the back of your throat. you place your hands on his thighs to balance yourself, your nails leaving crescent indents in his skin. spit covers your face from your mouth, falling down to cover your tits. you moan around his cock, sending vibrations through that causes a deep groan from his throat. he glances to your phone recording, watching the side view of his cock go in and out of your mouth as he slyly grins. "look at how pretty she looks, choking on my cock," he talks to the camera, the shallowness of his breath evident in his tone. his moans get louder, your name spilling from his mouth like a prayer. he pulls your head back with your hair, disconnecting your mouth from his cock. 

he pushes your body back until your back reaches the mattress then shifts himself downwards. "wanna taste you pretty girl," he mutters before diving into your pussy, his tongue licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit. you jolt, your clit still swollen and sensitive from your earlier orgasm. jj blows cool air onto your slick cunt, causing you to shiver and grasp at his hair. looping his arms around your thighs, he locks you into place as he begins his assault on your clit. he wraps his lips around it, sucking and swirling his tongue on your bundle of nerves. you cry out loudly, "that feels so good, don't stop daddy." your mind short circuits for a moment when you realise what you called him as he pulls his face away for a second and locks eyes with you. you go to apologise before he beats you to it "fuck you're so hot. that's right, daddy's gonna take care of you," he grins before assuming his previous position. you let out a moan and arch your back off of the bed, gripping his hair tighter and pushing his face closer. your hips grind against his tongue as pleasure shoots through your body. 

jj pulls back one of his hands and without warning, slips two fingers into your pussy. he sets a fast pace, curling his fingers upwards to your sweet spot. your cries get louder as you rut your hips faster, desperate for your second release of the night. jj feels your walls clenching around his fingers as he continues to stimulate your clit with his tongue. "that's right baby, i know you're close. want you to come around my fingers, cover my face with your cum," he pleads, his grip on you hip tightening, certain you'll have bruises in the morning. you feel the pit in your stomach growing, inching towards the release. "daddy, 'm gonna- gonna cum- fuck" you cry, finally falling over the edge as euphoria spreads across your body, your muscles contracting causing you to shake uncontrollably. jj doesn't slow down, guiding you through your high to the point of overstimulation. you feel so sensitive it almost hurts, trying to push his head away from your pussy. 

he finally pulls away, your cum spread across the lower half of his face, glistening in the low light. pulling his fingers out of you, he brings them up to your mouth, which you gladly open to allow him to slip his digits inside. "taste yourself princess, you taste so fucking sweet," he croons, trying to even out his breath. you swirl your tongue around his fingers, tasting yourself as you clean your slick off of him. he pulls his body up to tower over you, shuffling until his body is in between your thighs. with his other hand, he grabs his member and pushes it between your slit, coating himself with the cum dripping out of you as the head nudges your hypersensitive clit. you moan around his fingers at the contact. he drags his fingers out of your mouth, settling his hand around your neck and applying light pressure to the sides. it's not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel your heartbeat in your neck more prominently as your brain clouds slightly. "now what do you say? you think i should give you my cock? fill up your greedy little pussy for everyone to see?" he asks, slapping your pussy with his cock before lining his tip up with your entrance. you nod furiously, "give it to me daddy, please. i wanna feel you inside me." you beg. 

pushing his tip in, you both gasp in unison as he stretches out your entrance with the size of him. he stills his hips, allowing you both a moment to adjust and catch your breath. you look up at him and lock eyes, nodding after a moment to show you're ready. he thrusts his hips forward, snapping his hips to yours as you let out a sharp gasp. he pulls out again slowly, before quickly pushing back in. he continues this slow but rough pace as your walls grip him, his tip brushing past your sweet spot each time. "fuck baby, you're so fucking tight around me. your pussy feels so good i never want to get out of it," he moans, gripping your neck as his other hand pulls your leg over his shoulder, changing the angle. he slowly starts increasing the pace, causing your tits to bounce up and down with the force of his thrusts. 

you turn your head to the side to glance at the view in your phone, watching as his cock disappears into your pussy, focusing on the space where both your bodies meet. you notice how fucked out you look, with your hooded eyes and swollen lips, still shiny with spit and your juices. jj joins you in looking towards the camera, grinning at the same sight. "look at how good you look, taking me so well princess. your subscribers are going to love this huh?" he drags his gaze back in front of him. you slide your hand down to meet your clit, rubbing light circles, trying to avoid overstimulation. jj takes note of this and lets go of your neck to move your hand out of the way, replacing it with his own and a harder pressure. a whimper falls out of your mouth at this, your hand gripping his wrist to try to pull his hand away. "please, i can't take it. it's too much," you beg, your pleading eyes meeting his hungry ones. he shakes his head at you "aw poor baby, come on you can take it. be my good little slut, wanna feel you cum around my cock," his thumb draws rough circles on your clit, the pace of his thrusts never faltering. you feel his balls hit against your ass with every thrust, the sound of your wetness and skin making contact meeting your ears along with both of your moans. 

for the third time, the knot of pleasure appears, increasing faster than before. with your orgasm quickly approaching, you feel jj's hips falter slightly, falling out of rhythm as his breaths grow more ragged. "you gonna cum for me? i can feel you clenching around me, 'm not gonna last," he manages to spit out in between breaths. you nod as you feel your legs begin to shake. "where do you want my cum baby? want daddy to fill up your pussy, hm?" he asks, with a nod of your head in response. "give me your cum, daddy. please," you breathe out. within moments, your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, causing you to scream out and writhe in pleasure, your pussy clenching around jj. his orgasm immediately follows, his cum spilling out inside of you as he slows his thrusts, riding out both of your highs as he pumps into you.

he leans down to plant a kiss on your lips, slowly bringing his hips to a stop, leaving his cock still inside of you. he peppers kisses around your jaw and neck as you try to control your breathing and your shaking body. his cock slips out and you whine at the loss of contact, jj pulling away to look down at your pussy. he smirks and walks over to the end of the bed where your tripod is. grabbing your phone, he carries it over to give a view of his cum dripping out of you to the camera. "look at how fucking hot that looks. my cum dripping out of you, hm?" he takes his finger and pushes it back into you, fucking the cum back inside. he tilts the camera upwards, capturing how fucked out you look, your body shining with sweat as your eyes drop closed with exhaustion. 

he ends the video, dropping your phone onto the bed before grabbing his shirt off of the floor to clean you off with. you whine as it makes contact with your clit, and he chuckles and mutters an apology. he finishes cleaning you up and flops onto the bed beside you. "so," he begins, "feel like giving the viewers what they want and doing this more often?" he asks. you giggle, snuggling up to his body and give him a nod. "i'd be happy to."