#another one for the smut vein of the mines

[bolithesenate]

WIP game word: blood :D

let me preface this with: gentlebeings who are perhaps unfamiliar with what exactly has been going on for the last... three? ish? weeks in my google docs, there is one wip of mine i have told Jess about in INCREDIBLE detail. said wip also unfortunately features my blood kink VERY prominently

Jess, i know you are reading this, we will battle at dawn

anyways, surprisingly, in the roughly 5k i have for that monster so far, theres only 16 mentions of 'blood'

have an excerpt that features 3 of them

this also gets the smut cut, because while the snippet isn't particularely E, the fic is.

(side note: the blood isnt actually from dooku or sifo, but from roughly two dozen small ferret creatures that sifo fed dooku with. raw. it's a whole thing, don't worry too much about it)

[tteokdoroki]

࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #10. babies, lots of ‘em.

about. the all star jock has an intense breeding kink that leads him to confess the plans he has for he and his weird girlfriend’s future. ( 2.5K )

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, angst if you squint, characters aged up to 20s, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum play, praise, jock bf!yuuji, weird girl + fem!reader - the brain rot continues !! inspired by @kweenkatsuki-fics recent yuuji thirsting hehe <3

“‘mma give you babies… lots of ‘em,” yuuji slurs, his hips ramming into yours at a bruising, unprecedented pace. 

beneath your shaky fingertips, the muscles of your boyfriend’s back ripple with his movements — his strength as he uses the headboard for leverage to fuck into your sloppy, sweltering heat of your sex. you’re flat on your back, his heavy and weighty body hanging over yours protectively while itadori traps you between the blazing heat in his chest and the sweaty bed sheets below. whenever yuuji gets in the mood like this, possessive and hungry for you ( and nobody else but you ), in the mood to keep you all to himself — you can’t help but succumb to each one of his touches and wet kisses. 

you can’t help the way your body trembles in the cage of his muscular arms while his abs ripple against your tummy and his pelvis tacks deliciously to your swollen clit. the bed creaks beneath the sloppy affair of your grinding bodies and somehow, within the mess of sex and love, your freehands link and squeeze to ground one another. “the way you’re suckin’ me in, god, honey,” yuuji coos, his words tickle the shell of your ear delicately, contrasting with the carnivorous way his deep brown eyes drink you in when he pulls back slightly to look at you, silver chain and dog tags dangling above your hot face, as if he’s picturing you nice and full of him and his seed. “so selfish, you don’t wanna let me pull out. you want this cum…yeah?” 

in that moment, you think you might cum, all because of the breathy whimpers from your lover that ghost over your dampened cupid’s bow ( wet from kisses ) — accompanied by the sensation of his hard-on bullying its way into your tight, quivering little hole. there’s a keen smile that spreads across yuuji’s plush lips when you nod your head ‘yes’ in response, you feel his excitement and desire for you deepen when the entire length of him twitches inside of you — pulsating as small spurts of precum begin to line your lewdly squelching walls.

“i knew you would, you’re such a good girl…and you’re all mine, how lucky am i? that you’re all. fucking. mine.” for a boy so sweet and gentlemanly outside of the bedroom, itadori is always sure to fuck you nasty and raw whilst making you feel like the most adored person on the planet. yuuji’s sailor-mouth-like praises are slurred and sinful, a tale tale sign that he’s already pussy drunk as he sheaths inch after inch within you. you can hardly blame him, not when your body adjusts to yuuji so perfectly — silken pussy stretching over the blue spiralling veins on his heavy cock. “mine to love, mine to fuck, mine to breed.” he tells you through seraphic gripes too.

“ohmygod!” you squeal, voice ringing hoarsely in your throat. your cunt spills honey molasses and sweet nectar against your ravaged sexes, juices intertwining with the small pink tufts of yuuji’s happy trail as his bright red tip bears down harshly on your gummy g-spot — providing him with the lube he needs to make love to you properly. “baby…i c-can’t!” 

just as you moan out again, legs squeezing around your boyfriend’s slender waist — yuuji’s blushing face ducks into your neck, making quick work of marking up your skin…because if he looks at your face, the way your brows crease softly and your lips part in a gentle ‘o’, and sees the way it twists with mounting pleasure. he won’t be able to hold off for much longer, he’ll lose his mind and fuck you too hard for either of you to cope. he knows that you can take it, manage to take all of his seed and all of his love — but if yuuji snaps, he’ll be pounding into you until he’s shooting blanks. 

with your hands traversing upwards into yuuji’s sea of pink curls and over his smooth undercut, he reacts with his golden eyes rolling back into the dark depths of his skull — temporarily locking away your sunlight that brings warmth to your dorm. a familiar heat prickles underneath the surface of your skin like a thousand tiny needles as you pant out your words, pleading with bambi as you look up at yuuji. “i want your cum, yuuji, i want you to…hah… fill me up ‘n get me pregnant…” there’s a feeling painfully seated above your abdomen, a burning sensation of mounting pleasure like a wound desperate to be licked and soothed by itadori.

by grinding up against him, sticky clit smearing over his tense stomach and golden abs, you think that you might garner some relief — but you only feel teased and taunted when the jock pulls his cock from the snugness of your tight head to slap his milky cockhead against your pulsing mound proudly.

“don’t say it like that, fuck, baby,” yuuji all but groans, lashes fluttering at the slick sound your cunt makes with each love tap. beads of his precum ooze over you in another form of claim, glazing you in yuuji’s scent and taste. some of it even drips from your abused hole as it clenches around nothing, desperate to be filled by all that your boyfriend has to offer. “there’s so much… s’leaking out of you. gonna have to keep you on my dick always, give you all my babies.” the rose haired man can’t even hear himself speak, not over the sound of blood rushing through his ears — carrying sex crazed hormones. certainly not over your sweet sighs that form a melody with the pap, pap, pap of your pussy as he slowly sinks back into you — building up a steady rhythm to his thrusts, like an ocean’s regular tide.

yuuji can’t stop rambling, saying whatever lustful thought sits at the forefront of his mind. having you splayed out beneath him like this, your nipples pert against his firm chest and your breasts bouncing with every forceful lunge of his hips forward — it drives him up a wall. “gonna look so pretty ‘n round when you’re full of me. i’ll put a ring on it, make you my pretty wife — holy fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight. you like it when i talk to you like that, huh?” the thick vein on the underside of his shaft presses deliciously up against pleasure spots that only yuuji knows about, never leaving you unsatisfied, not even for a moment as his body rocks passionately into yours.

tanned skin and hard muscle feel slippery underneath your trembling hands. you don’t know what to hold onto, don’t know how to ground yourself when you feel this good and yuuji’s cock skilfully dives into your sopping heat — promises of the future, a wedding and family hand in the humid air buzzing between you both but is best said by the way itadori’s body dsnces with your own, his arousal soaked signature lining your rippling walls.   

“need that so bad, yuuji! need you so bad… please fill me up, i want it inside.” you hiccup and demand, hardly able to speak through it all. the bed moans and groans just like you do, every time itadori’s dick pumps in and pulls out of your dripping, greedy hole — coated in a layer of foamy white. using your elbows as leverage, you work your hips down to meet yuuji in a slick and sensual dance, clenching at every inch of him that assails your insides until delight crackles over your hazy brain.  

“god, baby please…if you keep talking like that i’m gonna—“ yuuji whines from deep within his chest, the sound resonating through you and shooting straight down to your creamy cunt that clamps down on him, pulling little droplets of precum from his sensitive tip. 

your next words have the jock pounding into you with new vigour, desperate to give you everything that you want. “d-don’t pull out, yuuji. inside.” 

“ahh, okay,” he whimpers as his voice rises in pitch, brown eyes stinging with tears. his golden arms flex as they lift you by the apex of your thighs — dragging you back onto his cock and it’s unforgiving pace. itadori presses his forehead to yours, caramel eyes shining with tears that gleam in the afternoon sunlight breaking through the curtains of your dorm.  “okay, okay fuck. okay, oh god — h-honey, i’m…fuck! i-im cumming!” he stumbles over his every word, the pink haired jock’s entire world shattering into smaller glass fragments as he finally hits his peak. thick waves of white flood your womb, hot and viscous and lighting you up from the inside out. it coats your swollen pussy lips in an opaque layer that smears along your inner thighs, pouring endlessly from yuuji’s fat cock and breeder’s balls.

effectively breeding you. 

still humping at you relentlessly and not daring to leave you far behind, yuuji tacks two of his fingers to your clit and caresses it in smooth circles, searing his name into you forever. he never lets up, fucking his cum into your womb with languid thrusts — bulbous and mushroomed cockhead spurting his hot seet against your g-spot as it grazes the epicentre of your pleasure over and over again. yuuji holds you in his arms while your vision clears, replaced by only blinding flashes of white and accompanied by an empty scream rattling around in your throat. your arousal spurts out of you in generous and clear streams, nearly forcing yuuji’s cock from your tight, rippling walls — painting both you and him in your juices. 

your boyfriend can barely hold himself above you as you both finally come down, flopping onto you and trapping you against the sex soiled matress for cuddles. 

“we can’t have babies, yuuji,” you laugh happily, letting out a puff of air from deep within your chest once you’re finally able to catch your breath. “not right now, we’re too young and we’re still in college!”

“well duh, not right now…” he muses, kissing your jaw and your neck and every part of you that he’s marked up and bruised. “but like afterwards…yanno? a few years down the line when we both have jobs. i’m gonna be pro and you’ll be a sexy career woman. ‘n i’ll make so much money that you can take all the time off you want. make sure you’re nice and taken care of and—“ 

giggling, the sweet melodies of your laughter cut through your boyfriend’s wistful rambling. 

“what’s so funny?” 

“it’s just…you’ve really got this all planned out, huh?” you reach a hand up to cup itadori’s sweaty cheek, brushing a thumb over the rough scarring at the corner of his mouth. he leans into you, much like a cat seeking physical touch, and you scratch just under his chin. “you want to be with me for that long?” 

“i mean…yeah. i want you for the rest of my life. i thought that was obvious,” yuuji manages to say while you squish his cheeks and play about with his face, sounding a little dejected. “don’t you? … don’t you want that with me?” 

your smile drops as you shift to your elbows, immediately dead set on reassuring your usually confident boyfriend. “of course i want that with gou. i want everything with you, it’s just that…” you chew on your words, push them around the cavern of your mouth as it dries with nervousness. “it’s just that… i’m still so different to you, i’m still not…conventional by any means. so i just thought… by the time college was over you’d—“ 

“i’d get bored of you?” 

yuuji looks almost offended, his pink and kiss-swollen lips pushed forward into a pout and his dark brows drawn together in the centre of his forehead. falling back onto the sheets, one of his hands sink into the pillow supporting your head as you lay flat on your back — you feel it tremble with an emotion you can’t quite place on his face. is it anger? hurt? annoyance? either way, your heart hammers in your chest and crawls it’s way up your throat. you feel nauseous at the prospect of even upsetting yuuji — especially after the loving sex you’ve just had. 

a croak in your throat replaces your sweet voice, you’re not sure if it’s because of how you’d been previously screaming your boyfriend’s name or because of how nervous you’ve suddenly become. “y-yeah,” you say slowly. “that.” 

“how could you even think that?” yuuji breathes steadily, the corner of his mouth twitching into a frown but you can’t bare to look at him any longer — casting your gaze to the side. 

shaking your head, you blink back tears you hadn’t even known were there. “i don’t… i don’t know. forget it, pretend i never said anything.” 

itadori bends at the neck to reach you,  tutting into the air as it cools down and loses its feverish taste for lust. his nose bumps yours, the pair of them becoming neighbours while his breath coasts across your face almost comfortingly. 

“when i say i want you, i mean it. forever,”  he confesses, like a reflex, like the natural reflex that his brain has to make his heart beat. “i want you to be my wife after all this. you’re not just some college fling to me. i want to buy you a house, a big ring, keep you comfortable for the rest of my life. i decided on that when i first met you,” a calloused finger and thumb tilt your chin to the perfect angle, making you look at him, your gaze falling into a mahogany one belonging only to your doting partner. “i don't care how long it takes to prove this to you… but you’re the love of my life, so have a little faith in me. okay?”

yuuji takes your hand in his, placing your palm on the left side of his chest where the muscle keeping him alive races for you. the only girl in the room. the only girl in his worlds. his dog tags jingle at the movement but his eyes on you remain unwavering and so full of commitment. you’d be stupid not to believe him now.

“okay,” you affirm sweetly, tilting your head a little further in a silent ask. you want a kiss. “i love you, yuuji.” 

“and i love you right back,” he mumbles against your lips without skipping a beat, slotting your mouths together perfectly in a gentle chaste kiss. “now baby, please stop asking me to cum inside, you know i can’t help it and we can’t have babies just yet,” yuuji whines and collapses on top of you with a huff. 

“you’re the one who said you wanted to give me babies!” 

“and you’re the one who keeps feeding into my breeding kink, let’s not get it twisted here!”

and all throughout your playful bickering, yuuji stays nestled deep inside of you — keeping you plugged full. of both his cum and his love.  

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[starcrossedmusings]

Mine

Pairing: Hongjoong x Actress!Reader WC: 2.5k Warnings: smut (sexual degradation [reader is referred to as whore, slut, and hole], manhandling, tiny bit of spit kink, hickeys/marking, unprotected sex, use of a vibrator, oral sex [m receiving], light dacryphilia, spanking), swearing, jealous Hongjoong, possessive Hongjoong, established relationship, "good girl", probably some more that I missed (let me know)

Synopsis: You are an actress starring in a new drama, and fans online have been going crazy for you and your on-screen partner. After a particular scene goes viral, your boyfriend Hongjoong decides he needs to remind you who you belong to.

A/N: Requested by anon. I hope you like it!

The scene had gone viral overnight--one moment the drama you had been starring in was on the verge of cancellation, and now you were signing on for another season while your twitter blew up. The fans of the show were all in agreement: the season finale tension between you and your co star has sent a swarm of butterflies in their stomach. You had immediately called your boyfriend, Hongjoong, who was finishing up his world tour when you found out.

Hongjoong had wanted to be happy for you, and for the most part he was. But there was a nagging feeling that took root in his chest when he had watched that episode that he has no idea how to shake. He hadn't quite been able to pinpoint exactly what it was until Seonghwa pointed it out to him. He had been sitting backstage waiting for his turn in the hair and makeup chair, and was scrolling through the ship name tag on twitter with a clenched jaw. Seonghwa chuckled at his friend, immediately noticing the tension rolling off of him.

"You've gotta stop looking at all that shit. It's fine to feel jealous, but what you're doing now is gonna give you an ulcer."

Hongjoong continued his scrolling much to Seonghwa's dismay and determined that he was not jealous. No...he was fucking feral. The way you looked up at your co star was a look that should be reserved for him and him alone, and the likelihood of things progressing with the new season meant he needed to find a way to come to terms that you might be kissing this man. He was white knuckling his phone by the time his name was called. He just needed to get through one more night.

The following evening, you were lounging on your couch, silk pajamas on and a tv show playing. You were mindlessly invested in your show when you heard a knock at your door. You furrowed your brow, not expecting anyone at this hour. You paused your tv, and the knocking sounded again, but much more intense. You pad over to the door and look through the peephole, gasping and throwing it open in shock.

"Joong?! What are you doing here?" You throw your arms around your boyfriend's neck, tears springing to your eyes. "You must be exhausted, I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow morning?"

Hongjoong chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing tightly and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I needed to see my gorgeous girl."

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, angel. Thats why I needed to see you--needed to do this." Hongjoong brings your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, tilts your head up, and kisses you deeply.

The kiss is intense--a clash of teeth as he surges forward. He pushes you back into your apartment and kicks the door shut behind him, not ever breaking the connection between his lips and yours. It leaves you breathless and dizzy, the fervor with which he's exploring your mouth with his own.

Hongjoong feels like his chest could explode at any moment as he teeters on the edge between wanting to explain himself and wanting to just take what he wants. But he forces himself to separate from you long enough to let you catch your breath. He plants rushed kisses down your jawline and neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. He feels pride simmer hot and heavy in his veins as you sigh and tilt your head back to give him more access, your hands exploring the planes of his torso as he continues sucking at your neck. He chuckles as he feels your fingers slip under his t-shirt and trace along his skin.

"Did you miss touching me too, angel?"

The breath you loose from your nose is pointed, and he can tell his words are getting the desired effect. You nod, and he makes a tsking sound. "I need you to use your words."

"Yes," You breathe out almost instantly. Hongjoong smirks and starts kissing at your neck again, slowly walking you back towards your open bedroom door.

"Good girl. Missed how good you are for me" He mumbles into your neck, sucking a dark hickey into your pulse point.

"Fuck, Joong, easy! I have a shoot in a couple of days."

That sends his blood boiling. He pulls away from your neck, eyes dark and chest impossibly tight. He speaks lowly, maintaining eye contact.

"Worried your new boy toy will see?"

You furrow your brows in confusion, placing your hands on his chest as you halt your movement. You both stand on two separate sides of the threshold to your bedroom. "My what? What are you talking about?"

Hongjoong cocks his head, a dangerous glare taking over his gaze. "You know who I mean, angel. That asshole that has you so infatuated in your show. I've been looking at all the clips from your final episode. At the way you look at him. I'm not happy about it."

Realization washes over your gaze and he sees relief come flooding in. Wrong move.

"Oh you mean Christian? He's--"

Hongjoong grips your jaw roughly and forces your gaze to land on him, shock crossing your features at the harshness of his grip. He speaks with lethal quiet. "I don't want to hear you say his name. Ever." He steps closer to you, pressing his body against yours and gripping your hip harshly in his other hand. "Got it? You're mine. Nod if you understand."

He smirks as you nod, eyes all wide with shock and slightly glazed over. "There she is. Look at my good girl." He releases your jaw and smacks your ass firmly. "On the bed, angel. Hands and knees."

You turn and scramble over to your bed, planting your hands and knees firmly on the mattress. Hongjoong approaches behind you slowly, letting himself rake his gaze over your waiting form. He saunters to your bedside table, opening the drawer. He grabs your wand from the inside and smirks when he presses the button and finds it turns on. He quickly turns it off and turns to look at you.

"You left it on the highest setting?" He tuts, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you and holding the head of the toy up to your lips. He brushes it across your lips and tilts his head. "Angel, have you been a little whore while I've been gone?" He can see the way your breath catches and the embarrassed flush that starts creeping up your neck.

When you don't answer him, he smacks your ass again and growls out, "Answer me." He relishes in the way you yelp.

"Yes. Yes I've been a whore."

He smiles sadistically and tilts your chin so you're forced to look at him. "Whose whore have you been, angel? Your co-star's?"

You shake your head frantically. Hongjoong takes the wand and runs it teasingly across your clothed pussy, barely putting pressure and keeping it turned off.

"Whose whore are you then, angel?"

You take a steadying breath before you answer, focusing on not bucking your hips to meet the head of the inactive vibrator. "Your whore, Hongjoong."

He smacks your ass again, dropping the toy onto the bed and beginning to tug his sweatpants down to his thighs. "Damn right you are. And I bet my whore missed sucking this perfect cock, didn't she?" He stands and turns to face you, thighs touching the edge of the bed as his half-hard length springs free. You nod and lick your lips, staring up at him through your lashes. He tugs your hair, bringing you closer to the base of his cock. "Suck."

With the way you swallow him down greedily, Hongjoong thinks it's a miracle he doesn't cum immediately. Your mouth is so fucking warm, and the sounds of your gagging and choking alone could make him finish on a good day. He grips your hair at the root and forces your head further down until he feels your nose brush against his pelvis. He throws his head back and hisses out from between his teeth.

"Fuck yes. I missed your mouth." He lowers his gaze to look as you struggle to breath, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. His chest aches at the sight. "Awe angel, look at you. Trying so hard to stuff all of this cock down your throat. Such a good hole for me."

He doesn't miss the way your thighs clench together.

"You like being a hole for me? Like letting me use you?" He thrusts his hips into your mouth and almost loses it when you gag, a tear running down your cheek. He pulls you back and looks down as you gasp for air, coughing slightly. A trail of your spit is still strung between the head of his cock and your bottom lip. He forces you to look up at him.

"Open."

You open your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out slightly. He pumps himself a couple of times, looking down as you wait patiently. He smacks the side of your face with his cock before spitting into your mouth.

"Swallow, whore."

He almost busts when you do without question, keeping your doe eyes locked on his fiery gaze. He pumps himself a couple more times, grabbing the vibrator and making his way to the other edge of the bed. He pulls your hips back into him, loving the way you squeal slightly. He pushes the flimsy material of your sleep pants and underwear down and runs a finger across your folds teasingly.

"You're soaked for me, angel. You really do love being a hole for me, don't you?"

You nod and whine, arching your ass back into him and savoring the way his cock brushes against you. You hear him turn the vibrator on, and gasp as he presses it firmly against your clit. The high setting sends you reeling almost instantly, and he harshly grips your hips to keep you in place.

"Whores take what they're given, angel. And right now, you're going to take everything I give, and you're going to thank me for it, aren't you?"

You cry out at the intense feeling building in your core, whining and sinking the upper part of your torso further into the mattress. "Yes oh god yes!"

Hongjoong smirks and runs a hand down your spine as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes in torturously slowly, and groans when he sinks in to the hilt. He circles the vibrator in tight circles on your clit, watching as you shake and thrash below him. He grips your hair again, pulling harshly until your ear is in line with his lips.

"I'm going to fuck you now, angel. And you aren't going to cum until I say you can." He feels you clench around him and nips harshly at your neck. "Ah ah, none of that angel. I'm not going to move until I know you'll be a good slut for me."

The vibrator is still pressed against your clit, and it takes everything in you to still your hips long enough to give him what he wants. You whimper and nod, trying to focus your breathing. "I'll be so good for you. Please."

All of Hongjoong's restraint snaps, and he pushes you roughly into the mattress, setting a brutal pace. The snap of his hips has your whole body rocking back and forth, each thrust hitting that special spot deliciously. He keeps the vibrator firmly on your clit, and you quickly feel your legs begin to shake as pressure builds rapidly. You're a whimpering mess beneath him, and Hongjoong feels like he's on cloud nine as you begin to squirm and writhe. He grips the base of your neck with his free hand, throwing his head back and relishing in the way your pussy sucks him in greedily.

"So. Fucking. Perfect. For. Me." He punctuates each word with a thrust, taking out his anger from the past 48 hours on your abused hole. "Would your co star make you feel this good, angel?" He growls out.

You whine again, long and high, as your shake your head. The sound is muffled by the plush mattress, but the sentiment makes its way across perfectly. Hongjoong coos and mocks you. "No? Awe, angel, whose cock are you gonna fall apart on, hmm?"

The choked "yours" that flies from your mouth sends Hongjoong completely over the edge. He snaps his hips even harder into you, circling the vibrator and hissing as you clench onto him like a vice. "Thats right, this pussy is all mine, your orgasm is all mine. You. Are. Mine." His thrusts lose their rhythm briefly before he cums, groaning loudly and gripping your neck impossibly tight. He resumes his normal rhythm shortly after, brushing against your g-spot with every thrust. Your whole lower half is trembling and he continues fucking into you, whines and moans flowing freely from you.

"Gonna fuck all this cum back up into my pussy, angel. Take it."

"Joong I can't hold it anymore," you whimper, "please let me cum!"

He leans down, pressing his body into yours as he goes impossibly harder. "Does my whore want to come all over my cock?"

You throw your head back, arching and whining, "Yes! God yes please let me!"

He chuckles lowly and circles the vibrator again, sending shock waves across your core, "Go ahead then, whore. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel."

Your orgasm crashes over you violently, profanities mixed with Hongjoong's name ripping from your lips as your whole body shakes. The pleasure has you seeing stars, and it's almost like you can't breathe as it peaks. Hongjoong fucks you through the entire thing, growling lowly in your ear as he thrusts, "Fuck, you're squeezing me so good, angel. Thats it."

As your orgasm ebbs away, Hongjoong slows to a stop and removes the toy from your clit. Both of you are breathing heavily, and he kisses the back of your shoulder gently. He stays buried in you as you collapse onto your forearms and takes a moment to stare down at how wrecked you look. He swears to himself that you never look more perfect than you do in the afterglow. He runs a hand down your spine and removes himself from you, taking note as his cum spills out of you and down the inside of your thighs.

"Stay there, angel. I'll be right beck."

He breathlessly stands and moves to your attached bath, wetting a washcloth and returning to gently clean you up. He chuckles lightly as you jump when he brushes against your folds and teases, "Feeling sensitive?"

"Fuck off." You breath out. He laughs and tosses the washcloth to the floor, pulling you into him as he collapses beside you. He kisses the top of your head. "How are you feeling, angel?" He marvels as you turn to look at him, pupils blown out and his marks on your neck.

"I'm feeling like I should make you jealous more often." You joke.

He huffs a laugh through his nose and nuzzles into your neck.

You're going to be the death of him.

[sugar-plum-writer]

Company Cam-Girl <3

Tags: Gang-bang [Toji, Sukuna, Gojo and Suguru]; Use of toys [vibrator]; slight-bondage; size-kink; camera; public-exposure; nsfw + more nsfw; porn with slight plot; manhandling; unprotected sex; spanking; over-stimulation; cream pie; c*mplay; rough sex; lot's and lot's of very dirty talk; explicit; MNDI!; (18+); smut

A/n: This is probably the most explicit thing I might have written; my hazy imagination is getting too much. This period is killing me so it's just pure filth, this is pure porn with a little plot so MDNI!

Synopsis: What happens when a slight back talk results in getting railed and over stimulated like crazy by 4 big men in the sex-toy company?

Word count: 2.6k

[Pic not mine I randomly found it on the internet; I'll change it the owner requests ]

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked, the place you worked was- explicit to say the least. You would have never expected to work in a company like this when you graduated- literally; a sex toy manufacturing company? beyond your wildest dreams

You were working here all because of pure desperation. Broke with college debts does not make life easy. The position gave good pay, insurance, good bonus, what else could you ask for? hence you continued working.

You worked in the marketing department which was a headache as it sometimes made you wonder how to advertise certain devices.

"Y/n- the manager is calling you to discuss the latest high-intensity vibrator ad!", one of your colleagues yelled giving you the papers and walking away

You looked at the paper which outlined the build, the components, the types of intensity, movements, etc normal people would look away and even be embarrassed but- after a while, it became average to you like another Tuesday.

"Alright, tell him I'll be there, " you yelled, browsing the pages as you entered the office.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"This design is so outdated… we need a new design-", Suguru muttered as he sat at his desk scrolling annoyed, the cigarette hanging off his lips

Toji clicked his tongue as he leaned back on his chair, "Damn if only we could experiment it on someone and record everything down", his deep voice sent a shiver down your spine

"I could always get a hook-up to try it out~", Gojo muttered with a smirk, "I don't mind"

"You fools", Sukuna scorned, "A hook-up won't give accurate data- her fucking brain will just be mushy, ask any questions-", he rolled his eyes, "her replies will just be fucking moans"

"Don't any of you have a girlfriend or somethin'?", Toji groaned as he grabbed his beer bottle, drowning it down, "You can get her and we can experiment"

"Nah- I asked my ex once she nearly threw a god-damn vase at my face", chuckling Gojo scrolled through his phone

"Ah, shit-"

With a groan, they collectively sighed. The atmosphere in the room was tense- after all, they were your superiors, you were just a mere girl from the PR department

"um- excuse me", clenching the papers tight you looked at them all, "T-The documents have an error-", you tried to keep your voice stable

"Oh shut up woman", Sukuna glared as he walked towards you, "Can't you read the room? or are you senseless?"

"Huh-?", rage-filled your veins, you were already annoyed with overwork- been working so hard not to let it get to you but this- this was the last straw.

"You are the senseless one!", you snapped back, "You assholes can't even design a vibrator properly! Look at you discussing this shit!", you scorned and shoved the paper on Sukunas face as you glared at the others

"What did you just say you fucking bitch-", Sukuna grabbed your jaw pinning you against the wall

"You deaf?", glaring into his eyes you scoffed, "I said you assholes cannot even design a fucking vibrator"

"Yo, calm down", Gojo yelled as he made his way towards you and Sukuna

"Fuck off-", his grip on you tightened choking you

"What a pain in the ass", Toji grabbed Sukuna with Suguru and pulled him back

"Tch", groaning he let go of you while Gojo picked up the fallen papers

"You alright?", Sugurus eyes locked with yours- something about his cold black eyes- gave you goosebumps all over your skin

"Y-Yeah" Gasping for air you coughed as you looked at Sukuna who was starting to calm down more

"You said we can't design a vibrator, right?" Toji smirked with a dangerous glint in his eyes

"Y-Yeah..", You backed away afraid. Something about his expression makes you instinctively back away as if your body subconsciously tried to protect itself

"Why not be our test subject? we lacked one anyways~", with a sneer he leaned in. The atmosphere in the room changed as all eyes were on you.

"Your fool brain finally came up with a good idea", grinning Sukuna fixed his blazer, "What do you say woman? or are you too scared?"

"W-What!? no way never!", you immediately shook your head shaking it crazily

"Awwww come on~ it'll be fun I promise!", Gojo nudged you wrapping his arm around your shoulder

"No way!", slapping his hand away you glared

"See you said we can't design good vibrators", putting out the cigarette in his mouth Suguru shrugged, "Have you ever even used one of our vibrators to know if it's bad? ever cummed dripping wet?"

You blushed hard, "W-what explicit nonsense are you even saying!?", shoving the papers on his face you scowled

"Oh~ is someone scared?" smugly Sukuna leaned in and whispered near your ears, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine

"N-No I'm not! It's just a vibrator!", shoving him away you tried to push the men away

"Great!", standing behind you Gojo wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close, "I'll even let you try out my new designs baby~"

"Hey! Bun-head, grab the newest vibrators and bring them here", Sukuna yelled, "We found a pussy to try it on!" he chuckled deviously

"What-!?" before you could say anything Toji cut you off, "Bring some lube too, I just know she's tight as fuck", smirking he looked into your eyes

"Alright, alright- I'll even bring a camera to record it. Need the data", with this- Suguru went to get all the items whistling

All while you stood stunned- how did you even end up like this? How did a small comeback develop to- well- this?!

"You did it to yourself, baby girl, ~ if only you hadn't opened that darn mouth of yours", with a chuckle Gojo whispered near your ears

"oh well, I'll look after you well~"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Is the Pussy visible?" Gojo leaned in as he looked at the screen of the camera

"Yeah, just gotta zoom in more", Suguru adjusted the camera, the RBG ratio, etc as he zoomed in

With your legs spread apart on Sukunas desk- your panties are removed as your cunt's all visible in the camera. Rather than an office it looked like a porn production set.

"Hm…she's tight", Toji looked at your cunt, "I wonder when's the last time she got fucked", Sukuna muttered

"Shut up!? what the fuck do you think you are even saying-", embarrassed you looked at both of them annoyed, "Just by looking at my- my pussy you think you can say such things?"

"Doll, I have seen enough to know what pussy has not been fucked and how well it was fucked", chuckling Sukuna smirked

Hearing Sukuna's comment Toji, Gojo and Suguru snickered

"Damn right", smiling smugly Suguru stood up and walked towards you

"You-", too stunned to speak you just lower your head, "How can they say such things!?" you think as you take a sharp breath blushing; almost embarrassed with the explicitness but it was low-key hot.

You hated to admit it but you were aroused as fuck. The cool air brushed against your cunt making the walls quiver, 4 hot guys gazing at you as they discuss what's the best way to record your pussy holding vibrators in the office. It made you get even more wet with your cunt oozing out and dripping, making a mess on Sukuna's desk.

"Look she's already dripping and making a mess how cute~ how needy", Gojo chuckled

"Well can't leave her like this can we?" with a smirk rolling up his sleeves Sukuna started circling his fingers around your clitoris- flicking it a bit making you gasp

"W-wait!" trying to stabilize yourself at the sudden wave of pleasure you try to focus elsewhere, your hands and body trembled at the way he abused your clitoris

"Where's your mind goin'?" Toji cups your breasts and starts kneading them, pinching and flicking the nipples making you squirm and moan

"T-Toji wait ah-" your eyes widen as your feel Sukunas fingers do deeper stretching you out ruthlessly, "She's tight- Fuck", he gritted his teeth

Tossing your head back you try to cover your mouth but it was instantly pulled away by Toji, "Can't have you cover your mouth now can we sweetheart?", smugly he pulled your shirt up and tied your hands with it

"Nice boobs you got here", Gojo brushed his hand against your breasts, fondling them, "I wonder how hard the nipples can get heh~", smirking he brought his lips closer to your nipples and started sucking on them making you moan even louder, "Gojo- ah! 'tis too much wait-!" earning only a chuckle from him as he sucked even harder biting it

"The Vibrator No 1 is ready~ let's see how well you take it darling", smirking Suguru stood beside Sukuna- turning the vibrator on and putting it down on your cunt grinding it, the movements so good you felt you were on cloud 9; while Sukuna continued to move his fingers deeper stretching you out.

"Smile for the camera doll", smirking Sukuna slapped your pussy which stinged a bit but also made you so fucking wet it was embarrassing

The intense stimulation from the vibrator immediately made you arch your back, toss your head back and let out the loudest moans you could muster, it was stimulating- too stimulating.

It was too much- your poor pussy could not stand so much abuse. It was all puffy, sobbing wet, begging for mercy as it dripped and oozed pre-cum. Tears stained your cheeks as you whined and moaned

Your breasts were off even worse, the biting and sucking of Gojo had swollen your nipples so much. The bite marks covering your breasts stung but also gave you so much pleasure wanting more

"Fuck- who knew we had such a natural cam-girl?", licking his lips Toji just watched your expressions hungrily wanting to devour you

"I know right? Should have fucked her and filled her up first", chuckling Suguru increased the intensity of the vibrator to it's highest limit making you gasp and moan, squirm all at once, "Let's see how loud she can scream eh?"

"Oh my God! it's too much ah-" tossing your head back you squeezed your thighs shut as your eyes rolled back and you climaxed instantly because of the intensity

"Stay still, how bratty", slapping your thighs Sukuna spread your legs open forcefully holding them down, his fingers covered in your release, "Heh- who said the vibrator was bad huh? look at the amount of cum", smirking he licked it off his fingers making you blush harder and be even wetter.

"D-Don't-!" you frantically tried to wipe your cum off his fingers too bad Toji held your arms down all tied up

"I wanna taste some too~", licking his lips smugly Gojo with a quick movement shoved his fingers inside your cunt and licked it

"How sweet I can eat her out forever~ Try some Suguru"

"Oh don't mind if I do~"

Seeing them taste your cum from their fingers made you almost lose your mind and your brain felt mushy. The camera still recording everything that they were doing to you. It was so crazy

"Hah- finally stretched out, what a good fucking pussy", Sukuna smirked satisfied

"We can finally put the vibrator in~ shall we put two?", Gojo chuckled as he gazed at your cunt

"I think she can take it~" smugly Toji looked you in the eyes, "She's such a good girl after all. Aren't you baby?"

"Well" with a sneer Suguru finally put the vibrator inside you with the highest intensity, "Let's see what she can do, go at it girl show what you got~"

Hungrily they all gazed at you, their eyes those of starving wolves who wanted to completely devour you, fill you up- breed you so fucking well like the way you deserve. You had no idea what a raging boner they had seeing you and your cunt.

"Oh my god- ah- hah~", moaning you squirm as the vibrator continued to hit all the right spots- making your whole body-shake, your walls clenching so tight- holding on for dear life; "Fuck it's so good!", biting your lips you closed your eyes as you felt your brain going numb.

It felt like it was designed specifically for you, the way it hit your G-spot was driving you mad. It kept pushing you over the edge again and again.

"Shit", biting his lips Sukuna approached you, his hard-on evident, bulging fully, so big it made you wonder if it would even fit.

"Moaning like a whore just from a mere vibrator", unbuckling his pants he removed the vibrator making you sequel and whimper

"Guy's let's give her the best fuck of her life shall we?", smirking he positioned himself to your entrance and slammed in without warning, doing deep, hard and fast thrusts- hitting your G-spot again and again

"Fuck, so good, shit how was I missing out on such good pussy"

The vibrator already broke your brain in the beginning and now feeling Sukuna fuck you, so big- so hard- filling you up so well drove you even more over the edge. Your throat had gone dry from all the moaning

Toji, Gojo and Suguru also unable to keep their hand to themselves any longer; unbuckled their belts with their hard on started jerking off standing beside you, letting out grunts and moans imagining fucking you. Making you suck on their dicks like the good girl you were.

Seeing how big they all were you wondered how your poor cunt will ever be able to take them all inside.

Your vision was going white with all the pleasure as you clenched around Sukuna's dick, squeezing him so tight he tossed his head back pussy drunk just wanting to feel you all around him.

You don't know many hours went by all you know is they all took their turns fucking you- in all positions, filling you up with their cum; praising you and telling how much of a good girl you are, how well you are taking them.

You were fully- completely knocked out and brain fucked. The office fully messy from the desk to the couch and all vibrators gone.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The next moment you wake up, sharp pain shoots up and down your body as you groan.

"Oh look who woke up, our cam-girl", chucking Toji sat beside you while the others crowded around you

That's when everything hit you all at once and you look down finding yourself completely and utterly naked.

"You took us all in so well baby~ my dicks never been more satisfied", Gojo lifted you making you sit on his lap and kissed your neck

"S-Shut up! I need to go!" you blushed hard and tried to stand up but tripped

"What a brat, you really think you can stand? how annoying, you were better brain fucked", Sukuna immediately grabs you supporting you to not fall

"You!-" feeling your blood boil you immediately try to open your mouth to yell all kinds of profanities

"Oh she's awake", Suguru entered the room smirking, "Still naked is she? are we going for another round? Because I am down"

"I'll die if we do another round!?" in panic you look at them all in the eyes earning a chuckle and a light slap on your ass from Sukuna making you whine

"Shut up you aren't going anywhere from today onwards you are our girl"

"Huh!?", you gasp in shock

"Everything we did is recorded", Gojo chuckled grinning, "Suguru even finished processing it darling~ thank you for your-", he tossed a vibrator to you and winked, "lovely data"

You stand utterly stunned knowing there is no way out from this, they'll eat you alive whenever they please. You are officially the company's cam-girl and test-subject.

Congrats on your promotion~ <3

My Masterlist!

[dark-moonlust]

Gargoyle Guardian

Pairing: Gargoyle x human reader

Summary: The gargoyle guardian awakened upon sensing your presence. His mate. He will have you no matter what.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, double 🍆🍆, vag and anal, explicit descriptions. Don't like, don't visit my blog.

The clock struck midnight.

Stone cracked and fell away.

“I have watched over this place for centuries,” the creature rumbled. “But in all those years I have never come upon something so beautiful.”

You turned around and stood frozen. The gargoyle had talked. It was alive when mere seconds ago it was a mere rock. His dark red gaze locked onto yours as he descended from his pedestal in the ancient cathedral. The full moon cast light over the creature’s form, he was large and imposing with a chiseled chest, firm legs, and huge wings.

You wanted to run, to flee but you felt a strange pull that made you stay.

The gargoyle landed with grace, barely disrupting the ground despite his formidable size.

Dark red eyes stared at you and for a second there they flashed with animosity. And then, liquid lust coursed through you. You forgot the need to run, you ignored your fear, too entranced by the creature’s ancient magic.

You were being seduced.

And you willingly succumbed.

In a flurry of moments, he lifted you, placing on the cool platform of the cathedral.

You found yourself on all fours, palms and knees on the floor, ass up high in the air. Clothes were ripped and your skin shivered once exposed to the cool night air. You felt icy fingers traveling over your flesh, cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples.

The touches continued. He caressed your sides, your arms, feeling your belly and thighs, stopping at your mound. He cupped you there, probing your wet cunt with a blunt finger. An involuntary moan escaped you.

“My mate,” the gargoyle drawled against your neck. “I finally found you. Mine. Mine.”

“Yours?” You asked, too entranced by the hold he had upon you, mental and physical.

“You’re mine, little pet,” he said fondly, retracting his sharp nails and letting his fingers safely slide across your pussy, rubbing your clit before slipping inside.

Eyes closing, you whined and wiggled your ass as he fingered you, fucking you with one digit then adding one more. He gathered your wetness in two digits and rubbed them on your pouting asshole, before pushing them inside. You protested but his free hand slapped over your mouth, robbing you of speech.

No one had touched you there before.

Another whine left you.

The fingers in your ass turned from two to three. Your unused hole stretched around the gargoyle’s thick fingers, causing you pain and pleasure. You burned and craved to come. But just as you were about to have your release, the fingers drew back.

“You’ll take me now, little mate. You’re ready.”

Before you could summon a reply, you felt the press of something warm and pulsing. You looked back, jaw going slack at the two cocks pressing against you. Two! They were similar, gigantic, and an angry gray color. The first shaft was thick and curvy with pearly drops on the bulbous head. The other one was just as big, etched with throbbing veins and self-lubricant.

Fear flashed in your eyes as both shafts settled on your little holes. The pressure and stretch overwhelmed you. Inch by inch they invaded your depths, claiming you. They reached the hilt, your belly round and so very filled. Growling, the creature drew back, his cocks coming out slick with your juices.

The gargoyle growled in satisfaction and fucked you slow and steady.

The palm covering your mouth loosened so he could slide two fingers in your mouth. They curled and reached the back of your throat. You gagged and whimpered as he took you, and you came wildly on both cocks while they thrust and thrust inside you. He didn’t stop fucking you. The primal pounding didn’t stop for what felt like hours. He kept you there, pinned under him while he fucked your pussy and your ass, your belly bulging with his cocks.

As the first light of dawn approached, his movements turned frantic.

You were a mess, having had one climax after the other.

When he finally came, both cocks exploded within you, spurting buckets and buckets of warm cum. It overflowed, dripping down your shaking legs and making puddles on the ground. Your eyes closed as sleep and exhaustion took you, while the gargoyle held you close, his cocks still hard inside you.

“You are mine now. And I will protect you always.”

[euphorajeon]

trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m)

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, smut | college au, slight coffee shop au (?)

— word count: 12.4k

— warnings: pov change after the first part (its kinda obvious.. i hope), sleeveless jk, jealous jk, like really jealous, side character yoongi, cameo jimin and hoseok, they work tgt in a coffee shop, boxer!jk is back to his nature (he's boxing again, at last), cocky jk (but he's hot so its ok), usual banter between jk and oc, also banter between oc and jimin, mentions of cuts and bruises from boxing, references to the movie Real Steel, uhh what else i dont rmb anything else this thing is GIANT for me, smut in the form of: kissing, marking (hickeys), making out, an attempt at dirty talk, dry humping, cumming in pants, hint at unprotected penetrative sex at the end (don't do this!). [pls lmk if i missed smth]

— summary: a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.

— author's note: okay first of all full disclosure i started this in sept 2022 and just finished it today ^_^ i tried to edit it as best as i could, so if you see any mistakes, pls kindly... ignore... thank you... ^_^ that aside, i also feel the need to disclose that this is only my second time attempting to write smut so pls.. be kind.. hehe. okay! i hope you enjoy this absolute giant baby of mine!!

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

There’s an advantage to knowing someone for years. Jeon Jeongguk can attest to this fact from first-hand experiences he’d had with you throughout the many years you both have known each other. He’s seen you cry after you almost drowned when you were ten and you’ve seen him throw up his breakfast after drinking skimmed milk when he was twelve, where both life-threatening experiences had been deemed not serious by young-you and young-Jeongguk who used both experiences as means to roast each other. (Though growing up, your hands automatically grabbed the whole milk carton when grocery shopping with him and he’s never let you go within a five-meter radius of a swimming pool without his supervision.)

Years of friendship with you has also given him the advantage of being familiar with your likes and dislikes, from trivial ones like how you don’t drink coffee because it upsets your stomach to more serious ones like the type of boys you would date in your teen years. He’s never had a problem with the former, instead using it as another mean to annoy you (“You can’t drink coffee? What are you? A child?”), but the latter had always bugged him for reasons unknown prior to his big epiphany a little over a year ago. (Spoiler alert: it was the first time he came home with piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, when he tempted you into kissing him stupid.)

Now he’s confident that the type of a boy you’d date would be someone who is handsome, tall, has a great smile and tattooed bulging biceps on the side. Add a lip piercing (and a fake tongue one!) as well and he’s sure you’re never going to look at other boys ever again. If you do, well, he’d just make the piercing on his tongue a permanent one, even though that means he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for weeks after. But as said earlier, he’s confident that you only have eyes for him alone.

With that same confidence, Jeongguk struts through the glass door of the coffee shop you’re working at for the summer, going up to the counter with a grin painted on his features. Said grin goes unnoticed by you, though, as you’re busy taking the order of the person in front of him. His lips stay tilted upwards as he watches you work, writing the customer’s name on the cup with your big, round, cute handwriting. Only when you’re done taking the order and the customer’s cup has been given to your coworker do you notice his presence, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“Hi, what can I get you today?” you greet him in your customer-service voice and smile like you do any other customer that has come before him. Jeongguk gives you an amused smile, making you chuckle as you key in his order even before he says it himself. He eyes the small screen in front of him that displays his usual choice of beverage, making a sound to stop you from ringing him up.

“Actually,” he says when you hum in question, “could you add milk to that? Make it a latte?”

“You want a latte?” you emphasize the last word, making sure you didn’t hear him wrong. “Like, with milk and foam on top?”

“Uh-huh,” Jeongguk confirms, leaning his elbows on the counter to stare at you as you change his order from an americano to a latte. “Can I also order you on the side? Look too good not to be devoured,” he adds, a sleazy smirk on his lips.

You scrunch up your face at his innuendo, his words hard to believe when you’re wearing a murky brown apron and a matching cap on your head. “I’m adding a brownie,” you deadpan. “That would be seven dollars.”

“You don’t want anything?” Jeongguk asks as he straightens up, hand reaching for his wallet to take out his credit card. “No coffee though, babe.”

“Nope, I’m good,” you answer as you accept the card Jeongguk hands you, swiping it through the card reader. “Yoongi said I can try the new menu in large for free! I’m saving calories for that so no sugar allowed for now.”

His forehead creases upon hearing the new name. “Yoongi? Who’s Yoongi?”

“Him,” you tilt your head towards a mint-haired guy who’s busy making all the drinks, hands skillfully moving from one cup to another. It’s a wonder how he doesn’t spill even a drop of liquid. “I’ll introduce you later but now you have to move, there’s a line. Shoo.”

Jeongguk gives you a playful pout as a protest but complies with your request to move, sliding down to the pick up counter as you greet the next customer in line. There are two people lined up after him, barely a line like you made it sound like, but he figures because it’s an hour before closing that you consider any amount above one person a line. He also notices that you and the mint guy (Yoongi, was it?) are the only ones manning the counter, so it’s not like you have any spare time to deal with him given the amount of work that has to be done.

“An iced latte and brownie for Jeongguk!” Mint guy shouts as he slides the drink and dessert on the counter, lingering for a second when he sees Jeongguk’s hands reaching for his order. Mint guy’s gaze trails up his arms to his face, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s confused ones. Recognition bleeds into his cat-like eyes as his mouth forms into an O shape.

“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”

The low baritone of his voice is unexpected, though that’s not the only thing throwing Jeongguk for a loop. ‘Kiddo’? He has a nickname for you??

Mint guy—Yoongi!—doesn’t take his lack of response personally, instead opting to turn around and talk to you who have just finished taking orders from the customers. Jeongguk can’t hear what words you and Yoongi are throwing around, but from the way you glance at him, it looks like the mint-haired guy is just trying to confirm the answer to his two-worded question directed at Jeongguk earlier.

Your response to Yoongi’s inquiry makes the guy give you double pats on your cap-covered head, triggering a laugh to come out of both of you. While Yoongi’s laugh looks like he’s teasing you good-naturedly, yours looks like a shy one if the pink dusting your cheeks are any indication. It prompts a scowl to appear on Jeongguk’s handsome visage, furrowed brows and clenched jaw. It is not in your nature to get shy.

As much as he wants to stay rooted to the pick-up counter to keep you and Yoongi in his close watch, he has to move his ass somewhere less crowded to avoid getting eye-fucked by the girl next to him who has been staring at his tattoos for the past five minutes. Prior to dating you, anyone who displays interest in his tattoos would make pride swell in his chest, an ego-booster guaranteed to make his day a thousand times better. He used to subtly flex whenever he caught someone looking at his sleeve tattoos, an equally subtle wink on the side if that someone is a girl he found attractive. But after dating you, he realizes that the only attention he wants (and matters) is yours. Now anyone staring at his tattoos with the intention of flirting or getting in his pants just makes him shiver in disgust.

Though, in this particular instance, Jeongguk admits it’s his own fault by showing up to the coffee shop in a sleeveless shirt. It wasn’t intentional, he just grabbed anything within reach when he packed for the gym earlier in the day, but the way he left his hoodie in the car is definitely intentional. He thought he would give you a distraction surprise by baring his sleeve when you’re working, but you seemed unaffected even when he leaned on the counter to flex his muscles. Which is weird, considering you never missed any chance to ogle his inked bicep whenever he’s boxing.

As Jeongguk plops a small piece of brownie into his mouth, he just realizes that your roles are reversed now, with you doing your thing and him doing the staring. His eyes never leave your figure as you ring up three more customers since he sat down, transferring plastic cups onto Yoongi’s never-ending queue of orders. He watches as you take the last two cups by yourself, re-reading the order before moving to grab the ingredients needed for the drink. Your hands don’t work as fast as Yoongi’s, the muscle memory not yet settling in, but Jeongguk can tell that your help is appreciated by the way the mint guy smiles at you while patting your shoulder.

When the orders are all done, you go up to the glass door to flip the sign so it shows the Sorry, we’re closed! side. A glance at the clock tells him that it is thirty minutes until closing time, meaning thirty minutes until you can get out from behind the cashier and into his waiting arms. He hasn’t seen you all day today and all he wants to do is kiss you breathless the second you get rid of that horrendous apron and cap. Jeongguk starts counting down from the thirty-minute mark, hoping time would tick by faster.

Behind the counter, Yoongi is still busy making one more drink while refusing your offer to help. It’s weird seeing your kindness being offered to someone that isn’t him, but Jeongguk supposes this time it’s strictly work-related as he knows Yoongi has been making all the drinks (except the last two that you did) ever since he sat down with his order. Though, it seems like the drink in his hand is not an order at all, because he gives the plastic cup to you instead of putting it on the counter for a customer to take. There’s an almost childish grin on your face as you sip on the drink, eyes lighting up as you shoot Yoongi a thumbs up. After you exchange some more words with Yoongi, Jeongguk watches as you skip happily to his table with your drink in hand.

You place said drink next to his cup of latte on the table before your hand reaches for his drink to steal a sip. “I just have to clean up and wait for everyone to leave, then we’re good to go.” You steal two more sips of the latte just because you can.

“Okay, babe, but I still want my latte, you can put it down now,” Jeongguk chuckles, watching you do as he says with a guilty smile on your face. But then your hand takes the little spoon that came with the brownie to cut a sizable chunk from his half-eaten treat, quickly plopping it into your mouth. “Finish your brownie so I can take the plate away to wash it.”

“Are you just here to steal all of my food?” Jeongguk jokes, no menace behind his words as he reaches up to thumb away a stray piece of brownie from the corner of your lips. “And you said you didn’t want anything when I offered earlier.”

“I didn’t,” you confirm, “stealing from you is just too hard to resist.”

Jeongguk would’ve continued the banter if not for Yoongi calling your nickname from behind the counter, signalling for you to get back to your job.

“Boss calls,” you say, sneakily stuffing some more brownie into your mouth. “Should get back. Bye!”

“He’s your boss?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, glancing at the mint-haired guy who’s still busy moving around behind the counter. “That young guy is your boss??”

“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” you wave your hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Don’t steal my drink!”

In true Jeongguk fashion, of course he steals a sip from your drink. He does it just to be petty that you won’t explain anything about Yoongi, but he’s also curious what the new menu tastes like. He doesn’t remember seeing any banner for a new menu when he entered the shop earlier, so he’s guessing it hasn’t gone on sale yet.

He scrunches up his face the moment the drink touches his taste buds, tasting the bitterness of coffee among the layers of other flavors. It’s not as strong as the americano he usually has, but he can still feel it linger even after he swallowed the drink. Definitely not the type of drink you’d order on your own, though, so why were you so excited to try this new menu?

Looking around the shop, Jeongguk’s gaze falls on Yoongi. You did say he was your boss, didn’t you? Could it be that this free drink is just a plot to use you as a guinea pig for his experimental weird recipes, knowing that you can’t refuse your boss? Was that why he refused your help earlier? So he could make the drink taste as bizarre as it is right now?

His eyes continue following your and Yoongi’s figures behind the counter, squinting them in distaste whenever he sees you laughing at something the mint-haired guy said. Your smile, your lowered gaze, your shy demeanor, all remind him of a feeling he thought he had buried a long time ago—the same feeling he got whenever you got a boyfriend in your adolescent years. Suddenly, Jeongguk feels fifteen all over again—a clueless doe-eyed boy who donned t-shirts in every color of the rainbow every day of the week and strutted like he owned the school just so you can see that he was cool, only for you to deny him of a Sunday together.

Those years have become a core memory for him that it inspired him to get one of his tattoos: Rather be dead than cool, because he realized the way to your attention was not by being cool, it was by just being himself. (Yes, the ‘him’ who showed up unannounced at your doorstep after two years and ended the day with you on his lap stealing all the breath straight from his lungs.)

Anyways, all of that doesn’t matter because currently, your eyes are not on him but on your mint-haired boss who’s busy grinning while washing some equipment. Why are you both smiling so much around each other? Do you have some kind of inside joke that’s so funny you can’t stop laughing? What is so pleasing about Yoongi’s presence that you keep beaming at him?

Jeongguk chews the straw of your drink in anger, not realizing that he has inhaled almost half of the cup’s content despite claiming that he hates the taste. Sipping on your drink has become an afterthought as he was busy analyzing how wide your smiles are while working with Yoongi and how friendly the shoulder and head pats you give each other are. It’s sickening.

Eventually, everyone else in the coffee shop left and you’re in front of him once again to get rid of the brownie plate from his table, whining when you see the half-empty cup in Jeongguk’s hand even as you’re chewing the rest of his brownie in your mouth. Fair trade, he says as you walk away with the plate and spoon in hand.

Not even five minutes has passed since you left his table, yet Jeongguk feels tired of being patient, taking your and his coffee cups in each hand before coming up to the counter. It seems like Yoongi senses his presence, because he looks up from the calculator app on the tablet in front of him to give Jeongguk a curious glance. Their eyes meet for a split second before Jeongguk moves his gaze past Yoongi’s shoulder to you, who’s still busy wiping down the counter. A knowing smile curves on Yoongi’s lips.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Yoongi turns towards you, the nickname still irritating to Jeongguk’s ears. “I’ll finish closing up, you can go. Great work today.”

“No it’s okay, I can help you mop the floor after I’m finished with the counter.” You don’t even look up as you wave him off, oblivious to Jeongguk’s presence and his increasing impatience in front of your boss. He clears his throat comically loud, making you turn around to see a frown etched on your boyfriend’s face and Yoongi tilting his head towards him with a small, almost teasing smile on his face.

“Oh.” You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay then. Sorry about him, Yoongi.”

“No worries, Kiddo.”

Yoongi’s nonchalant response is laced with a chuckle, which for some reason, upsets Jeongguk even more than the nickname he keeps calling you by. Is Yoongi not scared of him? Of his tattoos, of his muscles? Is he not intimidating? Can’t he feel the piercing stare Jeongguk keeps giving him ever since he walked into the coffee shop?

“You.” Your stern voice tears his hot gaze away from the mint-haired guy, whose focus is back on the calculator on his tablet to count the sales they made today. “I’ll clock out first then we can go. Please don’t do anything weird in the five minutes that I don’t have my eyes on you.”

Jeongguk follows your figure with his eyes until you disappear into the backroom, leaving him alone with Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy with the mint hair, whose surname he doesn’t even know, who is your boss that strangely have an endearing nickname for you. Things that stream steady questions into his head, about your initial meeting with Yoongi to the extent of your relationship with him. It’s the nickname he can’t seem to shake off of his mind, the way it rolls easily off Yoongi’s tongue, as if he’s been calling you that for years. Has he known you for years like Jeongguk has? Been through near-death experiences with you like Jeongguk has? Has he deserved the right to call you by a nickname like Jeongguk has?

“You can stop shooting daggers at my head, you know,” Yoongi’s low drawl almost makes Jeongguk think that he’s talking to himself, but the sentence is clearly directed at him. The older guy finally looks up from his tablet to look at Jeongguk in the eyes for longer than a second, no coffee orders to complete to interrupt their interaction this time. “Kiddo’s boyfriend, Jeongguk, right?”

As Jeongguk gives a nod to confirm Yoongi’s question, a hand is extended towards him to complete the introduction. “I’m Yoongi, Kiddo’s coworker-slash-boss.”

Jeongguk grips Yoongi’s hand with more strength than necessary, unintentionally flexing his muscles too. He thought that would be enough to tell Yoongi that Jeongguk is your boyfriend and he has no business being so friendly with you, but Yoongi only glances at his tattooed arm before letting go of his hand with a comment about how strong his grip is.

“Thanks, I do boxing,” Jeongguk mutters curtly, upset at the degree of nonchalance Yoongi is showing. He starts glancing at the door to the backroom where you currently are, wishing you would emerge right this second so he can go and doesn’t need to face Yoongi’s mint hair ever again.

“Yeah, Kiddo might have mentioned that a few times, just like she won’t shut up about your sleeve tattoos,” Yoongi says, going back to his tablet. “I used to box too, by the way.”

If you asked Jeongguk what Yoongi used to do, he wouldn’t be able to answer at all as he chooses to focus on the part where Yoongi said you won’t shut up about his sleeve tattoos and tune out the rest of his sentence. “My tattoos? What about them?”

“She said you have tons. Shoulder to fingertips. That’s how I recognized you when giving your order,” Yoongi answers lightly, which piqued Jeongguk’s interest even further. Wouldn’t it be fun to use this coworker-slash-boss of yours to get information about what you’ve been saying about him at work? What else does Yoongi know about him other than he does boxing and has a sleeve tattoo?

“Really? Does she gush about how hot they are to you, too?”

It’s not a question meant to be answered, its sole purpose to show off that you indeed gush to him about how hot his tattoos are. Though, if one thinks about it, why would Jeongguk need to boast to Yoongi about the compliments you give him about the strokes of ink on his arm? What business does Yoongi have knowing about it?

Yoongi seems to be unaware of Jeongguk’s inner dilemma as his face breaks out into a grin. “I think she’d be mad at me if I told you half the things she gushes to me about you.”

So you do gush about how hot his tattoos are to Yoongi. Interesting.

The fact that Yoongi insinuates there’s more to that is both endearing and terrifying to Jeongguk, because while he’s giddy that you talk about him with other people with so much enthusiasm, too much of it could end up in you sharing something about him that you should not have. Not to mention you’re sharing it with your boss, someone you should keep at an arm’s length when it comes to sharing about your significant others. One wrong move and he could use it against you.

Jeongguk is just about to ask Yoongi to elaborate further on his statement when you step out of the backroom, now out of the murky brown cap and apron and in a white t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Jeongguk. All thoughts of Yoongi knowing all sort of things about him evaporates right away, his mind focusing on how cute you look instead. If only Jeongguk doesn’t know basic human decency, he’d pull you by the waist to taste the mouth he’s been deprived of for the whole day, not giving an ounce of care about your boss watching the whole thing.

No, he’s a good boyfriend so he opts to pull you by the shoulders instead, letting your arms go around his waist before squeezing you in his arms. The kiss he drops on your cheek is chaste yet lingering, like he wants to let you know just how much he missed you. You tighten your arms around him in return, wordlessly saying the same thing back.

“Ready to go?” Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, not yet letting go of the hug.

“Ye—oh, wait!” You pull your face away from its initial position on Jeongguk’s chest. “You haven’t met Yoongi yet.”

“We did, Kiddo,” Yoongi waves you off. “You’re free to go. Your boyfriend here has been waiting long enough.”

“No,” you say, pulling away from Jeongguk’s hold. “I mean I haven’t introduced you two properly.” You gesture to the both of them back and forth as you say their names. “Yoongi, meet my boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, meet my boss, Min Yoongi. His family owns this coffee shop.”

“That’s what you mean by proper?” Jeongguk says to you as he takes Yoongi’s hand for the second time that day, regular grip this time because you’re watching his every move like a hawk. “I didn’t know you own the shop. Nice place,” he nods to the older guy, releasing his hand.

“Thanks. It’s my dad’s, though. I just help from time to time,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You ‘just help from time to time’ but willing to dye your hair mint in honor of the new menu.” You nudge his elbow playfully. “Speaking of the new menu, did you finish the whole cup, Jeongguk? I’ve only had a few sips.” You frown as you bring the cup to your eye level, examining just how much of it is left. It’s an exaggeration, obviously, as the cup in your hand is still half-filled. But Jeongguk plays along, saying the reason why he inhaled your drink is because he’s tired from having just gone back from boxing.

“You have your own latte,” you point out, finally taking a much-deserved sip from your free drink. It still tastes okay, so you stop grilling Jeongguk about stealing your drink (even though you kinda stole his too, in the middle of your shift nonetheless.) “Oh, and did you know Yoongi also—”

Yoongi clears his throat loudly before you can finish your sentence. You look up from your drink, alarmed, afraid you might have said something wrong. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and he gives you a tiny shake of his head, one Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s busy taking sips from his own cup of latte. (And because he’s more focused on you than Yoongi.)

“He knows, I told him I used to box too,” Yoongi says.

“You did? I didn’t catch it,” Jeongguk averts his eyes from you, turning to look at Yoongi. “Wanna have a match? I could use an opponent for my session tomorrow.”

“I said I used to, Kid,” Yoongi re-emphasizes on the two words. “I have a shoulder injury. It’s healing, but I still shouldn’t do too much to it.”

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Jeongguk!” A slap lands on his bicep courtesy of you.

“What? He said it’s healing!”

It’s only now that Jeongguk witnesses the exchange between you and Yoongi using only your eyes, yours looking frantic while Yoongi’s looking as cool as a cucumber. Maybe he should dye his hair a shade of green resembling a cucumber rather than a mint.

After watching you and Yoongi have a silent conversation for a minute, Jeongguk lets out a sigh as he takes the final sip from his latte. “It’s okay, babe, I was just kidding. It’s fine if Yoongi doesn’t want to have a match with me.” He throws the empty cup into a trashcan nearby. “It just means that he backs down easily from a challenge.”

You physically face-palm at his sentence, missing the way Jeongguk throws a challenging smirk Yoongi’s way. The older doesn’t seem fazed at all, instead letting a small smirk take over his features as well. “That’s not a really nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he drawls.

Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”

“Jeongguk, please stop,” you whine from behind your hands, still facepalming because you don’t want to become a witness in case this coffee shop becomes a crime scene.

“Alright, I’ll have a match with you,” Yoongi says finally, tone resolute. You peek out from the cocoon of your hands, glancing back and forth between your coworker-slash-boss and your boyfriend who are having a staring contest, both refusing to back down. “Tomorrow after my shift works? Kiddo here can take the same shift so she can watch us too.”

“Sure,” Jeongguk agrees without a pause. “It ends at three, right?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. See you then.”

Then Jeongguk puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the counter to finally go take you home as it’s the reason he came here in the first place. You hastily give your coworker a wave goodbye over your shoulder, getting a wave back accompanied with a laugh. Jeongguk uses the opportunity to steal yet another sip from your drink.

“Stop it! You’re gonna finish it all!”

“What even is it? It tastes really weird.” Jeongguk scrunches up his face.

“It’s mint mochaccino, you ass.” You pull the cup away from him, who chases the straw with his mouth while grinning wide. “Stop or I won’t kiss you until tomorrow morning.”

“Always withdrawing kisses when I need them the most,” he pouts, retreating from your drink to let you finally finish the cup yourself. “Can I kiss you in the car or should I wait until we get home?”

(Does not matter what you answer is, because he grips the back of your neck in the car to make out with you for five minutes, and then finish what he started in the safety of his room, under the blankets.)

“Are you sure you want to fight with Yoongi later?”

You and Jeongguk are back in his car, on the way to the coffee shop for you to start your shift and for Jeongguk to get his americano to kick off the day. His nod to your question is firm.

“Yeah. My coach said it’s good to train with an opponent sometimes.”

“You could’ve fought with your coach instead, then,” you point out.

“True, but—” Jeongguk tilts his head, sucking in a breath. “He’s the one who trained me, so he knows my fighting style and pattern. It’s good indeed, but it’s missing that element of fun.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, I want to know what your Yoongi is made of.” He casts a glance at you to see your reaction.

“What ‘my’ Yoongi, what are you talking about …” You heave a sigh, massaging your temple. It’s not even 9 AM yet but you can already feel a headache coming. Sometimes you wonder why you’re willing to date this childhood friend of yours, knowing all of his flaws and bad habits like this. Though it’s given you the advantage of being able to read between the lines of his actions, often you wish he’d just say things outright without you having to dig it out of him.

“You know, the Yoongi you work with? The Yoongi who gives you head pats? The Yoongi who has a nickname for you?” Jeongguk’s tone gets more annoying near the end of his sentence, almost as if he’s trying to get a certain reaction out of you.

“The Yoongi who owns the cafe I work at, which is the sole source of income I have?” you reply instead, refusing to give in to Jeongguk’s silent provocation. “Also, the Yoongi who used to box. I think you should keep that in mind when you fight him later.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bet he wasn’t even that good.”

You manage to arrive at the cafe unscathed, only losing a tiny piece of sanity because your boyfriend couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Yoongi and his non-existent boxing skills (Jeongguk’s words, not yours.) It doesn’t help that the Yoongi in question is already standing behind the register, greeting you with a smile and throwing a lopsided smirk your boyfriend’s way. You don’t like the thick tension between them at all so you quickly slip into the backroom to let Jeongguk be a big boy for once and order his own americano for the day.

Stepping out of the backroom in your mandatory work apron and cap, you’re kind of relieved when you see the shop is still intact, not thrown upside down courtesy of your boyfriend and his inability to control his strength (and emotion) in the face of a threat (read: Yoongi.) Upon seeing you, Jeongguk pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against before reaching for your waist despite your boss standing just a few feet away. The cup of americano on the counter tells you that you took too long in the breakroom, which if anyone asks, you’d justify with adjusting your work attire. In reality, you just don’t want to face your boyfriend and the sour look he has whenever he so much as glances at your boss.

“You can always cancel the fight with Yoongi, you know,” you murmur, biting your bottom lip in worry. “You could hurt him, he could hurt you … it’s not ideal.”

“Hmm.” Jeongguk purses his lips. “What’s not ideal is your boss having a nickname for you.” There he goes again, always having something to say about Yoongi. “Aside from it being highly unprofessional, it’s also inappropriate since you have a boyfriend and that is me. Jeon Jeongguk. I am your boyfriend.”

“Jeongguk, he knows,” you groan, fed up with the back-and-forth about this whole Yoongi thing. You don’t even know why your boyfriend is so threatened by the older guy when he’s a whole lifetime ahead of him. “It’s not even a nickname. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”

Jeongguk’s reply never makes it out of his mouth as he’s interrupted by Yoongi clearing his throat, making you both look at him tapping on his wrist to signal the time. It’s a reminder that you’re here to work, not to continue the argument that sparked in the car. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your boss, sharing a hard stare with him before deciding to do something one should not do in front of their boss: dip down to kiss you, using your surprised gasp as a way to slide his tongue inside your mouth. In the five seconds he manages to tangle his tongue with yours, you completely missed the sound of the glass doors opening and the low whistle that came after, along with Yoongi’s chuckle and greeting to the person who just came in.

Shoving Jeongguk away by your hand on his chest, you try to cover your burning face with your other hand as an attempt to save your dignity in front of Yoongi, though you doubt it’s working at all. Jeongguk licks his lips then winks at you, squeezing your waist in his grip before stepping back to grab his cup of americano, now full of condensation sliding off the plastic cup. He takes a sip to taste test before scrunching up his nose.

“Could’ve been better,” he sneers, making you glare. “Alright, I’ll let you get to work. See you later, babe.” Then, after a second, turns to Yoongi to add: “you too.”

When Jeongguk disappears into his car, you put your head in your hands and let out the loudest groan known to man. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

The mint-haired guy only gives you a gummy laugh, eyes turning into crescents as he shakes his head. “Your boyfriend is really something, Kiddo,” he muses. “A really … fun early morning entertainment, you could say.”

“Entertaining it was!” You hear the voice first before you see the person, the one who must’ve come in when you were rather preoccupied with your boyfriend. Park Jimin, your other coworker, slides behind the counter in a brown apron identical to yours and Yoongi’s, just minus the cap. Good, that means he doesn’t have a bad hair day today and can take the position at the register instead of you. You could use some more time to learn to make the drinks, anyway.

“Didn’t know you and your boyfriend were such exhibitionists, Kim,” Jimin taunts you, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Although, if my boyfriend were that hot, I would have wanted to exhibit him too…” He purses his lips in an exaggerated manner of faux thinking, obviously trying to rile you up. “Lucky you, Kim.”

“Shut up, Park,” you seethe through your teeth, slapping him with a dish rag while he cackles happily. “We’re not exhibitionists. You just have terrible timing.”

“Oh, it was perfect I’d say, just in time to catch sight of his tongue going into your mouth—”

“JIMIN!”

When Jimin continues making fun of you by making gross kissing sounds, you turn to Yoongi for help. As the oldest amongst you three, he must have a sound solution to get Jimin to stop making those awful sounds and put you out of your misery. Although, your trust in him is probably misplaced as Yoongi just chuckles and tells you something your own mom would tell you whenever you’re telling on Jeongguk: “Just ignore him, Kiddo.” The sacred word of ignore. “Go prepare the breakfast pastries now.”

So much for sound solution.

You go about your shift as usual, with Jimin manning the register like you planned to. Time goes by quickly when you’re busy working (and when your coworker is Park Jimin) that you didn’t realize it’s almost time for your shift to end. You glance at the line in front of Jimin and see that there are still three more people he needs to serve, while you and Yoongi still have about five tickets to finish before you can clock out and leave. Scratch that, might be eight tickets to go considering the workers who have their shift after you aren’t here yet. It’s gonna be a while before you can see your boyfriend and be a witness to an unnecessary fight between him and Yoongi.

“Hey, Kim, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t you say he was gonna pick you up from work?” Jimin nudges your elbow when he finishes taking one customer’s order, sliding a plastic cup into the queue in front of you. “I want to see just how hot he really is,” he continues while wiggling his eyebrows.

Before you can slap the guy with your dish rag again—it’s looking more like your weapon rather than a cleaning tool at this point—Yoongi pipes up from his position in front of the sink. “Just look for someone with a tattoo sleeve. He loves brandishing it.”

“Ooh, a hot guy with tattoos,” Jimin whistles. “Add some piercings and I might steal him away from you.”

“Jimin, quit drooling over my boyfriend,” you sigh, taking the next cup in line as your coworker turns back to the register. He’s already starting to greet the next customer when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, sliding next to him to brew the espresso needed for the order you’re making. “He has one on his lip, but he’s mine. Note that, Park,” you whisper to him while he’s keying in an order, earning a light chuckle from the man.

“He’s just messing with you, Kiddo, don’t mind him,” Yoongi chuckles from beside you, eyeing Jimin whose focus is currently on the cup he’s scribbling a customer’s name on. “He has his eyes set on someone else already.”

“Gossiping, aren’t we?” Jimin turns to you and Yoongi with a sleazy smile. “Careful now, unless you want Hoseok to know about your hot boyfriend too, Kim.” He gestures to the glass doors, where Hoseok from the next shift just walked through. He’s a great guy, but you’ve only shared a couple shifts with him, so you think you haven’t got to the point of sharing about significant others.

With the mention of Hoseok, you and Yoongi move to finish the orders you have left before handing over the shift to the aforementioned man. When all your orders are done and you’re ready to head to the backroom, you turn to ask Jimin to go with you only to find him still rooted in front of the register. “Jimin, you’re not going?”

“Oh, I’m actually covering for Eunbi.” Jimin shrugs, sliding a cup into Hoseok’s line of orders. “Go, Kim. Have fun with your boyfriend,” he grins, sending you a teasing wink.

Hoseok, a clueless witness, looks at the both of you with a scandalous stare. “What, what, what did I miss? Why are you winking like that, Park Jimin?” he says, urging Jimin to elaborate while pouring drinks into a plastic cup.

“You should ask her, Hobi,” Jimin snickers into his hand as he turns to greet a customer. Hoseok turns to you, his expression hopeful that you will shed light on the reason behind Jimin’s wink.

“My boyfriend is about to fight with our boss and I don’t know how to talk him out of it,” you say through your teeth, giving an overly-sweet smile to a confused Hoseok. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet him and make sure he’s not gonna bite Yoongi’s head off.”

“Bye, Kim,” Jimin sing-songs, waving his hand to you. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me!”

You’re already walking away, turning to tell Jimin off when you bump into Yoongi who’s just came out of the backroom, void of his work apron and ready to go. He grabs your shoulders to turn you around, pushing you into the backroom to prevent anymore banter between you and Jimin. “Let it go, Kiddo.”

In the backroom, you catch a text from Jeongguk saying that he’s already in the coffee shop, ready to go when you are. You emerge from the room after clocking out, moving your feet to the dining area of the cafe while waving to Jimin and Hoseok behind the counter. Scanning the room, you search for a familiar mop of black hair that belongs to your boyfriend.

It’s easy to spot Yoongi’s mint hair amongst the sea of other natural-colored hairs. What’s not easy is believing your eyes when you see the person sitting in front of Yoongi waving wildly at you, grinning like a mad man. It’s your boyfriend, the person you’re supposed to see after work, the person you’re supposed to supervise when he fights your boss later, alright, that part you know. The part that you don’t know and have a hard time believing is:

Jeongguk’s hair is mint.

Not black, not brown, not the experimental half-half he tried in high school. Mint.

The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.

It feels like you’re on autopilot when your feet carry you to their table, jaw on the floor while your eyes are stuck on Jeongguk’s freshly-dyed strands.

“Hi, babe,” your boyfriend has the audacity to say, lips stretching impossibly wider. He reaches up to run his fingers through his mint hair, an act so deliberate even Yoongi sighs at the sight of it, but it makes your heart skip a bit nonetheless. “Do you like my new hair?”

The light green strands previously tangled with his fingers fall back to cover his forehead and frame his face perfectly, the light hue somehow blending well with Jeongguk’s skin tone. It also accentuates his jaw more, making it appear sharper when the grin on his lips morphs into a smirk once he notices that you can’t stop staring. Oh, that smirk. Usually hot with his previously black hair, it is now lethal with his mint hair, toeing the line of playful and dangerous at the same time.

You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.

Yoongi, the third person who’s been watching the entire interaction unfold before his eyes, clears his throat. “If you’re done eye-fucking your boyfriend, can we go now? I have somewhere else to be after this.”

“Yoongi!” you whisper-shout, half scandalized, half disbelieving that your boss can say something so crude in the middle of his own buzzing coffee shop. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Park Jimin too much. (Or maybe he’s just sick of you drooling over your boyfriend time and time again … yeah, maybe that.)

“Can’t wait to lose to me, Min?” Jeongguk snickers, taking your hand in his as he follows Yoongi—who pointedly ignores his taunting question—towards the glass door of the coffee shop.

You catch Jimin’s eyes as you’re stepping out, his eyes rounding in surprise before a sly smile takes over his features. Have fun! he mouths, giving you a wink. Ugh, you’re gonna face a lot more questions the next time you have a shift together with him.

After another futile attempt at talking Jeongguk out of fighting with Yoongi, you’re seated where you usually are, on the sidelines of Jeongguk’s gym, this time with heightened anxiety out of fear that your boyfriend and your boss could hurt each other. You’re worried less about the physical part—boxing is a very physical sport, after all—and more about the mental part.

Boys are full of pride, full of ego. They pride themselves on their ability to box, delivering punch after punch until their knuckles bruise. They pride themselves on their muscles, bulging biceps that took years to build and maintain. They pride themselves on their strength, how they are able to hold you up against the wall when you’re busy sucking air off each other’s lungs.

Oh, and in case it’s not clear, by boys you mean Jeongguk.

You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend, of course, but knowing Yoongi’s boxing skills, no matter how long ago it was, the outcome of the fight today could just be the one that would hurt Jeongguk’s pride. The possibility of it happening is so high that you’re already preparing yourself for when Jeongguk comes back to you with his ego bruised. God, you can only hope Yoongi won’t hit too hard.

You’re too busy thinking of the many possible outcomes of this fight that you don’t realize when Jeongguk is back from putting his gloves on and warming up, now standing in front of you. “Wish me luck?” he says, along with a toothy grin your way.

“Yeah, good luck, Ggukie,” you reply, lacking your usual sarcastic bite. Jeongguk seems to pay no mind to it, though, ducking down to peck your lips before turning around to face his opponent for the day.

You catch Yoongi’s eyes when Jeongguk has his back to you, quickly mouthing don’t hurt him! to your boss, which he only responds with a smirk. All the blood drains from your face. Looks like your worries about someone getting his ego bruised won’t be just worries after all.

When the fight has started (Jeongguk’s coach started it—you’re grateful he’s there because then you don’t have to worry too much about Jeongguk and Yoongi beating each other to a pulp), you can’t help but watch. You just realize, in the years you’ve known Jeongguk and watched him box, you’ve never actually seen him fight anyone else other than his coach. He’s said before that he only took boxing as a way to work out, not to actually fight, so you guess that makes sense.

You don’t watch boxing matches a lot (actually, you don’t watch them at all), your only knowledge of boxing you get from watching Real Steel, a movie about boxing matches for robots, set in the far future when human boxing is not interesting anymore due to the limited brutality. You’re not sure how much information you retained from the movie, and how accurate they are, but you’re pretty sure you don’t need much boxing knowledge to know that right now, Yoongi is playing defensive while Jeongguk is playing offensive.

Alright, you admit, you have no idea if the terms you’re using are right, but it’s the simplest ones you can use to describe the sight in front of you. Since the start of the fight, Jeongguk has been throwing punches continuously, while Yoongi has had his gloved hands covering his face the entire time. Okay, not the entire time, but he’s only thrown one punch compared to Jeongguk’s one hundred ones.

As the fight goes on, Yoongi starts throwing punches here and there while still dodging Jeongguk’s aggressive fists. You’ve never seen Yoongi move this much in the entire time you’ve known him, and it surprises you how agile he is. The way he ducks under Jeongguk’s arm and throws him off balance is admirable, sometimes a little bit funny (just a bit, you promise) because it shows just how calm he is compared to Jeongguk’s aggressive, almost-angry boxing style.

When Jeongguk’s coach declares a break, your boyfriend walks back to you with his brows furrowed, tearing off one of his gloves so he can remove his mouth guard and grab his water bottle. After chugging down half of its content, Jeongguk heaves a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t grasp his fighting style,” he grumbles to himself. His eyes are set on Yoongi, who’s on the other side of the room, drinking from his own water bottle. “Who the fuck ducks all the time while boxing?”

“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing angry punches at him, babe,” you say, initially to keep his frustration at bay, but instead it makes him raise his eyebrow at you in a duh way. You backtrack immediately. “Okay, okay. But it’s just your first time fighting him, isn’t it? Be patient, Jeongguk, and maybe let up your punches a little bit?”

“Baby, it’s boxing,” he says exasperatedly. “Someone has to throw some punches.”

“I know, but you just seem so … angry. Yoongi’s only ducking to dodge that. I’m saying maybe you can tone it down so he could stop dodging, so then you can see his fighting style better.” You’re saying this while gripping his biceps, hoping your words can go through his seemingly-clouded mind. “When you see his fighting style, won’t it be easier to figure out a way you can beat him? Isn’t that what you taunted him with at the cafe?”

You know it’s not even remotely possible to learn one’s boxing style just from a single fight, let alone “figure out a way to beat him”. Somewhere in his fogged mind, you believe Jeongguk stores this fact as well, he’s just currently too deep in frustration to place it in the front of his mind. You’re not even sure your suggestion to learn Yoongi’s fighting style is registered well in his head, considering your boyfriend is now back to eyeing your boss with fire in his gaze.

“Jeongguk?” You give his shoulder a firm grip as he puts his mouth guard back on. “Tone it down. Yoongi could just be waiting to punch back. You don’t want that.”

Jeongguk parts ways with you with an absent-minded nod and two pats to your head with his heavy gloved-hand. On the other side of the room, Yoongi looks ready to go back into his fighting stance. You sigh internally. Jeongguk is so going to punch him aggressively, again.

The next thirty minutes of the fight goes like a blur in front of your eyes. Jeongguk throws a hook that Yoongi dodges, Yoongi retaliates with a jab to Jeongguk’s side which makes you wince, rinse and repeat. Maybe you’re wrong about your boyfriend for once, you think, seeing his calmer fighting style now. With the way he left your conversation minutes prior, you really thought he was gonna continue raining punches on any part of Yoongi’s body he could reach. You’re relieved that that’s not the case.

Although, perhaps your relief came too soon because a boxing match isn’t over until it’s over.

Watching Jeongguk fight with Yoongi is like watching a cartoon character with an energy meter atop his head, except for Jeongguk, it measures his patience instead. As the minutes went on, you feel like you could see the patience meter above his head depleting until it’s all gone, and that’s the moment he went back to his initial fighting style: aggressive and angry. You almost pull your hair out in frustration because you just know that this is what Yoongi has been waiting for ever since the fight started.

The next thing that happens reminds you a lot of one fighting scene in Real Steel, where Atom was waiting for his opponent to run out of energy so he can fight back. In the movie, Atom knocked the other robot down with a final uppercut, gaining him a win and advancing him to the next round. Well, uh, in this case, just replace Atom with Yoongi and the other robot with Jeongguk.

Yoongi’s clean uppercut wiped your boyfriend out, who’s now lying on the ground clutching his face—which you’re sure is beginning to swell right now. Despite already knocking Jeongguk down, Yoongi is still in his fighting stance, never lowering his guard even as Jeongguk’s coach counts to ten. Your boyfriend remains immobile, though, and the second the count is up you’re running towards Jeongguk’s limp body.

“Gguk, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” you say hurriedly as you try to pry his arms away from his face. He doesn’t budge, and for a second, you’re scared that Yoongi has maimed your boyfriend for life. “At least let me know you’re alive,” you continue when his silence becomes concerning.

“Hmmph,” Jeongguk grunts. You heave a huge sigh of relief.

“Okay, good.” You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to offer some comfort even though you know he had this coming. Gigantic ego, big talk, cocky as shit? Yeah, you understand that Yoongi would want to knock him down a few pegs. But now is not the time to launch into an ‘I told you so’ spiel, not when Jeongguk is still freshly bruised—both his body and his ego.

So instead, you lash out at your boss.

“I told you not to hurt him, Yoongi,” you snap-slash-whine, a frown on your lips. You thought, as the oldest among all of you, Yoongi could be trusted to knock some sense into Jeongguk’s mind without physically hurting him like this. As it turns out, all boys are the same.

The older guy just shrugs. “Probably wouldn’t get my point across if he weren’t knocked down.” He shakes the sweat out of his hair as he starts taking off his boxing gloves. When he sees you’re not impressed, he chuckles. “Relax, Kiddo, I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’ll be okay.”

“Really, Yoongi?” You roll your eyes. “You gave my boyfriend an uppercut just to prove a point!”

Yoongi just continues laughing as he chugs from his water bottle. His nonchalance about this is starting to piss you off. Maybe it’s your turn to put on the boxing gloves and sock him in the face, give him a taste of his own medicine. You scoff to yourself, picturing your own body lying next to Jeongguk if you really did that.

“Just tell your boyfriend here that there’s no need to be jealous of me, Kiddo,” Yoongi says, picking up his bag. Just then, Jeongguk’s coach appears with an ice pack in his hand, offering it to you so you can place it against Jeongguk’s swollen jaw. Despite your attempt to coax him out of his arm cocoon, he still refuses to move.

“Yoongi, look at him, you really broke him.” You’re flat-out whining now, kicking your feet like a child. It doesn’t even occur to your mind that you’re all still in the middle of a public boxing gym, with other people around you, being witness to this ridiculous scene.

“Oh my God,” Yoongi laughs before crouching down at Jeongguk’s legs. “Hey, Jeongguk, you hear that? Your girlfriend is worried about you,” he says, nudging Jeongguk’s leg lightly. “She only has eyes for you and your tattoos, too, you don’t need to be jealous at all.” You smack him on the shoulder for that.

Jeongguk finally removes his arms from his face at Yoongi’s words, his doe eyes menacing. “Go away,” he grits out at the older male, his scratchy voice making him sound less threatening than he intended. Despite that, Yoongi still holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Yoongi relents, standing up while adjusting the hold he has on his bag. “Was gonna go anyway, I have a date to get ready for,” he throws a grin your way. “Alright, I’ll be going first. Take care of your boyfriend, Kiddo.”

Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.

Jeongguk lets out a groan, shifting your attention away from your boss who’s already backing his car out of the parking lot. “Quit your job tomorrow,” he says. “I hate your boss.”

“Stop moving around!”

“It hurts!”

You’re both back at Jeongguk’s house now, with you sitting atop his outstretched legs on the bed, attempting to take care of his battle wounds courtesy of his fight with Yoongi. Aside from the swollen jaw, Jeongguk has a cut on his eyebrow and a split bottom lip. For a boxing match, you’d say these are minor injuries—proving Yoongi’s words right, he didn’t hit Jeongguk that hard—but your boyfriend is acting like a baby. He keeps jerking his head away every time the alcohol swab comes in contact with either of his cuts, it irritates you to no end.

“You have a goddamn full sleeve of tattoo and a lip piercing, quit acting like this hurts more,” you hiss, pressing the cotton in your hand to the cut on his lip as Jeongguk hiss back in response.

“At least when I got my tattoos and piercing, the artist didn’t do it while yapping my ear off,” he lisps through the cotton. “What happened to the caring girlfriend at the gym? Did she go away too, alongside Yoongi?”

“Oh, shut up, if I yapped back there Yoongi would’ve stomped on your ego more than he already did, do you want that, Jeongguk? Huh?” Your words are harsh, but you try hard for your hands to be the opposite, gentle as they cover the cut on his eyebrow with a band-aid. Jeongguk’s forehead is still damp from his quick shower earlier, beads of mint clinging to his skin. He might look smoking hot with his newly dyed hair, but the way the color rubs off on anything is starting to get onto your nerves. You wipe lightly at the color to make sure the band-aid sticks to his skin and does not come off the second he jumps around again.

“My ego is fine, you don’t need to protect it like this,” Jeongguk grumbles, adjusting the ice pack he’s holding to his jaw as you press a new cotton ball on his lip, discarding the one stained crimson red to his bedside table. “Maybe if you care about me as much as you care about my ego, everything would’ve been better.”

The way he’s rambling like he got his sense knocked out of his head as well makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t test me, Jeon. If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here sitting on your thighs patching your minuscule injuries like they’re fucking wounds from a war.”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk half-agrees, a pout on his lips. “But you haven’t kissed me even once ever since the fight ended. Do I not deserve a kiss because I lost? Do you not want to kiss me ever again because I can’t beat Yoongi in boxing? Do you think Yoongi is way better than me now? Do you want him to be your boyfriend instead of me?”

With every nonsensical question, his pout deepens, and his eyes droop to stare blankly at nothing.

“Hah, ‘my ego is fine’ my ass,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you turn the gears in your head on how to stop the bleeding on Jeongguk’s lip. It keeps gushing out blood, and you can’t exactly stick a band-aid to it like you did his eyebrow. At last, you just hold a cotton ball against it and hope it stops bleeding soon.

“Yoongi was right, you know,” you say clearly now, the tumble of Yoongi’s name out of your lips making Jeongguk glance up and focus his sight on your face. “You don’t need to be jealous of him at all. Heck, you don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Jeongguk. I’m your girlfriend and will always stay your girlfriend, no matter what. You don’t need to beat anyone in boxing or dye your hair the exact same shade as anyone for me to stay. You, Jeon Jeongguk, are enough.”

Jeongguk’s eyes, gazing into yours, are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know if they are there because he’s touched by your words or are leftovers from crying over his bruised ego from the fight with Yoongi. Either way, it throws you off balance. Next thing you know, you’re being tugged down by the nape for a kiss.

Jeongguk’s lips are warm, like usual, but the tinge of metal you taste on your tongue is making you worry. Before you lose yourself in his kiss, you pull away to thumb at his lip lightly, seeing streaks of red on your skin. You’re about to continue pressing the cotton ball in your hand to his lips and stop all forms of kissing immediately, but your boyfriend has a mind of his own as he instead sucks your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit delicately as he holds eye contact with you.

Gone is the trace of any tears from his eyes, now replaced by something you can only identify as lust. As flattered as you are that Jeongguk finds you desirable in your current situation, it also makes you confused. He’s hurt and the only thing in his mind is getting his dick wet? Unbelievable.

The ice-cold feeling on your waist tears your attention away from Jeongguk’s dark eyes as you yelp, hand instinctively prying the cold thing away. The ‘thing’ turns out to be his hand, which was previously holding the ice pack to his swollen jaw. He’s sneaked his fucking cold hand under your shirt to hold your waist when he should’ve kept holding the ice pack to his jaw—his swollen jaw!

Your boyfriend has a swollen jaw, a busted lip and a cut eyebrow. This is not the time to be screwing around.

Pulling away your thumb out of Jeongguk’s mouth at the speed of light, you attempt to climb off his lap, but he’s read your mind even before they are conjured up in your own brain. His hands are back on your waist—yes, the cold one too—and they hold you firm in place. The side of Jeongguk’s lips turn up into a sickeningly sweet smile, before he tugs your body towards his, making your hips come in contact with his crotch. He’s hard. Oh, fuck.

“You know, I never really understood why you’re so bratty whenever you’re horny and I can’t tend to you right away, but I think I get it now,” he says right by your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve been trying to will away my boner ever since you sat on my lap, but your weight on it is so damn distracting, it’s hard.”

“So,” he punctuates the word with a kiss on your neck, “I started saying anything to get my mind off it, but the way you care for me just … turns me on even more, if that was even possible.” He noses his way down your throat, coming to a stop at your collarbone. “And then all that talk about how I am enough … holy shit, I lost it. All I could think about was how I want to kiss you and fuck you into next week on this very bed.”

You can barely hear the last few words Jeongguk is saying, because he’s mumbling them into your skin as he peppers kisses and nips there. His fingers are now pressing into your back, pulling you closer and closer to him until there is no space left between you. You crane your neck so he can have more room to splash reds and purples onto your skin, sighing to the top of his mint head.

“You know, for someone claiming to be horny, you’re doing a terrible job at dirty talk,” you jab at your boyfriend, earning you a bite on your neck and a tightened grip on your body, making you close your eyes with stuttered breath.

“Easy, babe,” Jeongguk chuckles. “You talk as if you won’t be a moaning mess by the end of this,” he continues with much confidence. “But also, my lip is still kinda bleeding and my sides are still throbbing from the bruises. Kinda debating should we continue or just go to sleep.”

“Jeon Jeongguk I swear to God if you leave me high and dry—”

“Maybe you should kiss them better,” he cuts you off with a suggestion, his lips still trailing butterfly kisses on your neck and collarbone. The hands still on your back sneakily climb up and up until they’re reaching for the clasp of your bra, easily opening it to free your breasts from its confines. Your sound of protest gets stuck in your throat as a strangled moan comes out instead when Jeongguk massages your breasts tenderly with his fingers.

“Maybe I would—fuck—if you get rid of your shirt,” you say, tugging on the offending piece of fabric still covering your boyfriend’s gorgeous body. It’s not fair that he’s got you half naked already and he’s still fully clothed.

Jeongguk parts himself from your body long enough to tug his t-shirt off from the back of his neck in one smooth motion, exposing the golden expanse of his skin to your hungry eyes. If you thought his mint hair was smoking hot with his shirt on, it’s literally burning a flame of desire deep in your belly with his shirt off. You’re tongue-tied as you marvel at the sight in front of you, you almost jump when your own shirt and bra are taken off your body.

Now both bare from the waist up, Jeongguk wastes no time leaning back in for a kiss on the mouth, this time open-mouthed so he can slide his tongue inside. You keen happily, slipping a sigh in between as he slowly lowers you to the bed. Jeongguk anchors his hands on your hips, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants as he keeps your mouth busy with his own. In contrast, your hands are everywhere, from his broad shoulder to his firm back, from his bulging biceps to his rock-hard abs. You even tease your fingers past his waistband, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing, making him groan hotly into your mouth. It’s only when your fingers brush against his sides that he winces, reminding you of his earlier request.

“Flip around,” you whisper against his lips, “so I can kiss your bruises better.”

“Hmm?” Jeongguk hums, your words a murmur in his head. “But I like having you like this. Under me, naked, panting, wet,” he says, slipping his hand beyond your sweatpants to prove his words right—you’ve soaked through your panties. He drags a finger slowly up your center. You shudder.

“Yeah? I can be naked, panting, and wet on top of you as well.”

“Ooh, tempting.” Jeongguk licks his lips. He flicks your clit with a cheeky smile dancing on his lips, before settling his hands back on your waist. “Alright, I’ll flip over.”

The next second, you’re staring at him from up top, admiring how his mint hair looks against his dark grey bed sheets. Although, his hair is the least of your concern right now, as you’re tugged back down for another bruising kiss. Now that you’re on top, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to return the favor that is slipping his hand into your pants to squeeze your ass, but his version involves pulling your hips down while his thrusts up, creating a delicious friction between your body that makes you exhale a moan into his mouth.

You move away from his lips, down to his jaw where you take care to land a kiss light as a feather, before moving to his neck and collarbone where you have your own share of bites and licks. Aside from your infatuation with his tattoos and biceps, you actually have another one with his collarbone, this one you keep secret from him lest he goes around the house shirtless more often just to brandish his clavicle. But maybe he’s already noticed from the way you always make sure to cover that body part of his in blooms of red and purple, taking care to trace each and every bite mark slowly with the tip of your tongue.

While you’re busy with his collarbone, Jeongguk keeps dragging your crotch steadily over his, like he can’t get enough of the feeling and wants to keep chasing it. The delicious pressure on your center is a bit distracting, so you smooth your palm across his chest to pinch at his nipple in warning. Jeongguk lets out a broken whine from his throat.

“Stop humping into me, do you want to cream your pants?” you chide, fingers still giving tiny pinches to his nipple to keep him on his toes.

“Was trying to get you to cream your pants,” Jeongguk grins guiltily, his hips snapping up yet again to collide with yours. Even if you roll your eyes at his antics, you still continue your journey of kissing down his body, making sure to suck and lick on his sensitive nipples. You love the moans and groans that slip out of his throat every time you do things to his nipples. He likes it so much that his hips keep chanting up, searching for friction, that you have to pin them down so you can slide down to pepper kisses on his abs and waist.

Jeongguk works really hard to maintain the body he has, clearly evident in the eight pack he’s sporting on his stomach and the tiny, minuscule waist that’s way too slutty for a man to have. Sometimes you’re jealous of how nice his body looks, how firm it is to touch. You told him this one time, along with your regret that you couldn’t give him a similar experience, but he’d only laughed and said that admiring and appreciating him was enough, before proceeding to show you how he admires and appreciates your soft body (he kept biting into your inner thigh as he was eating you out, coaxing you into four orgasms back to back that day.)

And so, you admire his body by kissing the taut muscle one by one, tracing the lines outlining them with your hot tongue, caressing his bruised waist with the pillow of your lips and the feather of your touch. You know he’s hurt, but you can’t hold yourself from nipping on his slutty waist, gifting him another bruise that’s not a result of a punch. From the choked sob that rips out of his throat and the jump of his dick somewhere on your stomach, you take it he likes the bite.

“So,” you say as you mouth at the seam of his waistband, hand massaging his hard cock through his pants. “Do you want to cum in your pants, in my hand, in my mouth, or—?”

“Fuck, in you, please,” Jeongguk begs, eyes glassy from your ministrations. “But can we go back to dry humping for a while? Kinda like the friction on my sweatpants,” he breathes.

“Like this?” You move your hand up and down his cock, dragging the material of his sweatpants with it, paying special attention to the head. With every rub of the sweatpants against his head, a bead of precum comes out, with Jeongguk throwing his head back in silent pleasure. “Yeah, fuuck, that feels good.”

“But babe, want you, on top,” he demands, making grabby hands at you. “Was serious when I said I wanted you to cum first,” he continues, sighs in content when you oblige, resuming your position on top of him and lining your clothed crotch with his. He starts dragging your hips against his, building the pleasure up the faster he goes. “Want to fuck your swollen pussy, dripping with cum. Oh, I’ll slide right in, no problem, so wet, warm … fuuuck.���

The grip Jeongguk has on your hips is bruising, you have no choice but to let your body be manhandled by him. Slowly but surely, the band inside your stomach begins to tighten as your hold on his shoulders does as well. You’re so close, just one more move to tip you over the edge. When Jeongguk sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, the band inside you snaps and you come with a jerk of your hips and a whine from your throat.

Jeongguk slows down his move, taking care not to cum before being inside you, before stopping altogether and wrapping his arms around you to bring the both of you into a sitting position. Your limbs feel like jelly, still trying to come down from your high, when Jeongguk pecks your cheek before carefully lying you back down on the bed with your face down. He then maneuvers himself behind you, lifting your hips off the bed. You’re starting to have an idea what position he wants you in when he spreads your knees and slowly peels back your pants and panties to reveal your bare ass and pussy.

He takes his time caressing the globe of your ass, inching his fingers towards your pussy lips before spreading them apart, tearing a low whine from your chest. You guess he’s admiring the way cum still drips out of your cunt, because he’s silent, immobile for almost a minute.

“Gguk…” you whisper out. “You gonna fuck me or not?”

Jeongguk scrambles to get his pants off. “Fuck, yes, of course, baby, you just look so beautiful like this, I want to stare all day long,” he breathes, lining up his dick with your entrance.

God, I’m so thankful you’re mine, is his last warning before he slides home in one thrust.

Later, when you’re both freshly showered and cuddling on Jeongguk’s bed—with blue bed sheets this time, because you forced him to change the sheets as the grey ones smelled gross after your activities—you ask him a question.

“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”

There’s a three second pause before Jeongguk’s answer comes. “Maybe a tiny bit,” he says, nearly connecting his thumb and forefinger together in a ‘tiny’ motion. “Of his boxing skills only. Amazing how he could still move like that with an injured shoulder. I want to be like that too.”

“You want to injure your shoulder?”

He gives you a flat look. You giggle.

“His shoulder is actually healed, you know, so he’s still actively boxing until now. He trains the boxing club at my campus whenever our coach can't, that’s where I know him from and how I’d gotten the job at his cafe.”

Jeongguk purses his lips. “So he lied to me.”

“Hmm,” you agree. “I figured it was to ‘teach you a lesson’, that’s why I asked him not to hurt you before your fight. Did you, though? Learn your lesson?”

“What? To not be jealous of him?”

You pinch his waist. “To knock your ego down a peg and stop feeling insecure whenever I interact with other men?”

“Baby, the guy had a nickname for you. My insecurities were valid!”

“You mean the ‘Kiddo’ one?” you ask. Jeongguk nods. “He calls Jimin Kiddo. He calls Eunbi Kiddo. He calls you Kiddo. He calls everyone younger than him, Kiddo.”

More silence ensues.

“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”

“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”

Jeongguk giggles. Then he kisses you. Then he giggles again, while still kissing you.

“How about an apology?” he offers.

“In what form?” you challenge.

“Round three?”

“No.”

Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.

a/n: thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think of this, i literally almost cried in the process of writing it and when i finally finished it :') and yes this started because of that one mint jeongguk in memories 2020/2021, i think? the one with him in a black sleeveless and a pair of sunglasses, hahah. wish he'd dye his hair mint again (he looks rly good in it ugh)

→ request is open for my 1k folls celebration!

[gyuwoncheol]

Room Service

↳ A part 2 to 15 Minutes

Pair: Scoups x f!reader

Genre: Smut, Concert!Cheol, husband!Cheol, dom!Cheol, 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: The only thing hornier than pre-concert Cheol is post-concert Cheol. Lucky for you, you’re the only one in the world with an all-access VIP ticket to this immersive experience.

Warnings: Porn with plot, Concert!Cheol, dom!Cheol, daddy kink, breeding kink, big dick!Cheol, pussy drunk!Cheol, cock hungry!reader, so. many. orgasms., quickie sex, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), lots of making out, creampieS, slightly public sex, dick riding, manhandling, pussy slapping (like once), use of color system, overstimulation, body worship, breast/nipple play, hair pulling, spitting, crying during and after sex (but it’s not a kink), dirty talk, use of pet names (my love, baby, princess, baby girl, angel), fluff at the end. Please let me know if i missed something, i can’t remember all the filth. Not thoroughly proofread.

WC: 4.1k

Author's Note: Did I get carried away? Hell yes. is this the filthiest thing I’ve ever written? Could be. Except the other wip I have also for Seungcheol might just beat it. Thank you so much again for the love on 15 Minutes. I hope this 2nd part lives up to it.

Author's 2nd Note: For new readers, you don’t have to read 15 Minutes as this can stand on its own, but it would make more sense if you did read it.

“My good girl.” 

Seungcheol chuckled as he plunged deep into your cunt, his cock pushing through your mixed cum that you so diligently kept in as instructed, “so good at following instructions huh?” 

“Fuck baby, you’re so messy” Cheol cursed, mouth watering at the sight of your stored cum slowly dripping out of your hole as he dragged out his entire length until only the tip was in. You groaned when you felt globs of it trickle down your thigh, your husband’s large hand slowly pushing you down against the back of the couch. You felt him engulf you, his chest against your back, hot breath on your ears, “cat got your tongue, babe?” The man teased just as he thrusted his length back into you, causing more cum to overflow from your hole.

It had only been roughly 30 minutes since the concert finally ended, the boys doing all the post show rituals from changing clothes to shooting backstage content, and as soon as that was over, Seungcheol had all but dragged you to another dressing room, not even saying anything as he unzipped your jeans and dragged your very soiled panties down. Not that you were surprised though, post-concert was always when Cheol was the horniest, with all that adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

You could feel the prominent vein on his cock drag through your walls deliciously as he alternated between slow and fast thrusts, an arm snaked around your torso while hot phrases flew from his mouth.

“Fuck, pussy so tight.” 

“All mine.” 

“I’ll give you all my babies.” 

“Gon’ pump you full.” 

“My good girl so desperate for cum.” 

“Cheol!” You screeched in between moans when you felt him hit that sensitive spot particularly rough.

“Did you watch me tonight, baby? Why weren’t you in the stands?” He asked suddenly, as if he wasn’t still railing you from behind.

“C-couldn’t g-go” you squeaked, willing yourself to form words when all you really wanted to do was whimper in pleasure, “had to… be— behave… fuck!” 

“Behave?” Cheol clarified even though he sensed where this was going. In all the times they rushed backstage in between sets, not once had you moved from your spot, sitting cross legged on top of the large black trunk cases situated right in front of the screen which broadcasted the events on stage.  “Words, baby” he said sweetly yet firmly when he saw you nod eagerly.

“Yes! Behave. Had t-to… k-keep.. shiiiiit,” you groaned, your elbows harshly rubbing on the leather material of the couch after another rough entry of Cheol’s cock, “keep da-daddy’s… cum… in me.” You finished off your defense and you could already see your husband’s smirk without even really looking at him.

“Aren’t. You. Such. An. Angel.” Seungcheol punctuated each word with a deep harsh thrust.

“And all yours.” You punctuated as you looked back at him, both your eyes glazing in lust. The loud sound of skin slapping skin and your pussy squelching at every thrust was unmistakable, the room smelled of sex. The group’s leader was sweating even more than he did when he got off stage, his warmth radiating onto your body as he kept you impossibly close to him, jackhammering his cock in your cunt. 

“Shit shit shit shit..” you cried out loud when his other hand suddenly rubbed fast circles on your clit.

“FUCK!” Seungcheol growled at your release, your pussy clamping down on him so tightly that it triggered his own. He stilled within you in an instant, bodies folded in half against the leather couch, your husband continuously muttering incoherent words as the feeling of your fluttering walls drove him to another level of cloud 9. 

“Yah! You two better eat already if you’re really planning to go all night” Seungkwan scolded in his best mom voice when the both of you entered the buffet area hand in hand.

You hid your face on Cheol’s shoulders, suddenly very aware of all 12 boys looking your way. They were very much aware of what you two had been doing and why you were doing it. In spite of the never ending teasing and playful disgusted looks they give their leader, the members had all told you they were excited for Cheol to become a dad mostly because it meant he’d get off their asses. 

“We’re actually going ahead. We’ll take a different car.” Your husband announced, a gentle squeeze to your hand when some of the boys howled at the implication of both of you going back to the hotel first.

“Really not wasting any time huh?” Soonyoung smirked despite having his mouth full of noodles 

“What? She’s leaving soon!” Seungcheol whined.

“Y/n still has a week left!!” Mingyu corrected with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, still not enough!” Cheol replied. He gave a curt nod to Jeonghan, calling his name firmly as if to say ‘i leave the kids with you.’

“Hyung, seriously, you both have to eat.” DK was next to remind you both as he knows you’re both still running on empty stomachs.

“We’ll get room service,” your husband called out, inching closer towards the exit doors that would lead you to the vans.

“We hope it's the food kind! And maybe let y/n get some real sleep after!” Joshua’s reminder had you giggling, glad enough to know the boys still cared for you even though all you’ve done was hog all of Seungcheol’s free time.

Surprisingly, you had both managed to stay well behaved in the car ride home. If anything, you two were very sweet, your head resting on Cheol’s shoulders as he held your hand through the ride and absentmindedly played with your fingers. 

Even when you had both showered together in the hotel room, your husband did not try to make any advances, he simply cleaned you both up, even giving you a nice massage on your scalp when you lathered your favorite shampoo. 

Contrary to what his members may think, Seungcheol wasn’t too adamant about fucking you all night. He could see how tired you actually are and Mingyu was right, you did still have a week left with him. He just wants to make sure you are cared for like his queen this whole trip, whether that meant blowing your back or giving you 8 hours of sleep, he didn’t mind. 

“Tired, baby?” He asked as he secured the knot on your fluffy hotel robe.

You lazily smiled at him as you settled in bed, pulling him towards you for good measure. “I’m ok.”

“Hungry? Wanna get some food now?” 

“Want you to kiss me.” 

Seungcheol was taken aback by the boldness of your request, not because it was the first time you asked, but because you both have definitely done more than just kissing these past 72 hours. He smiled sheepishly as he climbed over you, settling on your side as his chapped lips kissed your soft ones. You clutched onto his hand on your neck, sighing happily when you felt him deepen the kiss. 

“Someone’s happy,” a low chuckle from your husband.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, “i love your kisses.” Despite the raunchy sex, there was always just something so nice and intimate about kissing your husband. His lips were always so plump against yours and the way he’d hold you securely always made you feel like you meant the world to him. 

“You’re so beautiful, i love you so much,” Seungcheol admired your bare face before sucking on your lower lip.

You moaned out an i love you too but it only got swallowed by the man who couldn’t get enough of you. You climbed on his lap, trapping him in between your legs, taking control of this little makeout session you were having. Inevitably, the more you kissed him, the more your hips moved on its own accord, grinding on Cheol’s robe-covered bottom half. 

You were moving erratically, wanting to chase a high you knew you needed if you were to fit Cheol’s dick again tonight. 

“Daddy, please...” you cried, annoyed that you just couldn’t get to where you wanted to be 

“Please what, baby girl?”

You whined desperately at the dangerously low tone in your ear, “please make me cum.” 

Record time is what you’d call it, the way Seungcheol went from flipping you over to casting your robe open to having his mouth suck on your clit harshly. You couldn’t even process it, all you knew was your throat was straining from how you were screaming his name with how he lapped at your cunt. His tongue licked bold stripes from your hole to your clit before he'd suck the sensitive bud. If there's anything Cheol has perfected, it's his hand-mouth coordination, the way he perfectly syncs his plush lips to suck at your clit while two fingers sink in you and curl to graze that spongy spot inside your walls. It should really have you embarrassed at how quick it could unravel the coil in your stomach. Your orgasm exploding in colorful bursts behind your eyes whilst soaking your husband's face in a mess. 

"I forgot how sweet you fucking taste," he groaned, slurping the juices leaking from your hole. He peeked up at you from where he was, your mouth agape and chest rising and falling while your fingers still gripped on his hair. You were hissing from oversensitivity but you should've known that post-concert Cheol was a starved man. When he deemed he had swallowed all of you, three fingers prodded at your entrance that had you arching your back from the bed only to be pushed down with your husband's free arm. "Stay still, baby. Daddy's not done yet." 

"Fuuuuuuck, " you panted, going delirious from the overstimulation your pussy was feeling. You writhed in vain as Cheol smothered your cunt like a full course meal. When you tried to squirm away, he delivered a slap to your pussy that sent shocks all over your body. "I'm cu- fuck! I'm cumming," you shuddered, thighs closing in on your husband's head. 

Seungcheol chuckled at your state, a proud grin across his face when he finally settled beside you. After pulling back to back orgasms from you in less than 10 minutes, he knew you were oversensitive and just needed to not be touched. "You okay, my love?" 

"Just.." you panted, "Just a minute." 

You rolled over on your stomach when you regained enough strength, and slowly but surely got on your wobbly knees to climb on your husband's thick thighs. Seungcheol wanted to squeeze your bare breasts but seeing as you were still slightly swaying, he decided to hold you securely by the waist. "what're you doing?" He mused while watching you fumble with the knot of his robe. 

His dick twitched at the sight of your lust blown, hooded eyes. "Daddy..." You smiled, god, you were so far gone, "Wanna ride you." 

Seungcheol moaned, hurriedly helping you untie his robe and throwing it to the floor. You salivated at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his stomach, red tip leaking with precum. Anchoring your palms on his chest, you kept your eyes trained on him as you sucked on your tongue before letting some of your saliva drool onto his length, your hand immediately gripping and spreading the fluid along his shaft, thumb grazing at the slit.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, hips bucking into your hand on instinct. A wicked smile crossed your face, delighted with the effect your actions had on him.

Cheol's eyes rolled to the back of his head when you finally let your pussy glide against his cock, coating it even more in your wetness.

"Fuck baby, what's gotten into you?" He hissed as you picked up your pace, grinding his cock against your wet folds, always making sure to let the tip kiss your clit when you move down. "So fucking needy for daddy's cock huh?" 

You moaned when one of his large hand squeezed your right breast and his dick leaked more precum onto his stomach. The sight of you, head falling back and mouth parted, was immaculate. He wished he remembered where his phone was right now, it would've been the perfect photo to take for him to get off on in the future. He committed it to memory as best he could, but even that thought immediately flew away when he finally felt you sink into his dick. 

"Oh my god,” you moaned in unison.

Seungcheol wasn't so sure if he was wincing from your nails digging into his chest or from the vice grip of your cunt on his cock, but either way, both felt like heaven to him. "Baby girl, you just came twice and you're still so fucking tight.”

"C-can take you, daddy. Please... p-promise!" You begged, lowering yourself to take in a few more inches of him. The stretch was familiar yet it still had you squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip. 
Afraid he wouldn't be able to stay still any longer, Cheol took the matter in his own hands, sitting up to bring your chest flush against his, connecting your lips in a heated kiss to distract you from the pain. He still tasted of you and a slight hint of your minty toothpaste. When he felt you relax, his strong hold sank you onto him until he was fully sheathed. You broke from the kiss, head falling back once again at the overwhelming feeling of being so full. 

"Cmon, baby, thought you wanted to ride me?" He sucked on the column of your throat, causing you to swivel your hips. "There you go. You can do it." God, his voice was so sinful it made your insides churn. Another strangled moan left your mouth when his wet tongue made contact with your right nipple, licking and sucking before he kissed between the valley of your breasts, only to nip at your left bud.

"Oh my god, Cheol!" You pulled at his hair, wanting him to leave your sensitive breasts alone. 

He laughed dryly at your attempt but still allowed you that space. He let go of your waist to lean back with his palms against the mattress to have a full view of you. "Cmon baby," He spurred on, "show daddy what you got." 

Choi Seungcheol was simply left with no regrets at his challenge. His eyes almost turned completely black when you decided to fully bounce on him. When you found a good pace, you alternated between bouncing and grinding, one hand squeezing your breast as the other held onto his knee for support. "Fuck, daddyyy," you cried at the stretch, and he could just feel your pussy clenching on his cock even more.

"So fucking needy," he spat, "Can't get enough of my cock." 

You shook your head at his words, mewling when your clit rubbed deliciously at his pelvis and his engorged head kissed your cervix. "D-daddy.." 

"That's it, baby girl," Seungcheol cooed, bucking his hips up to meet yours, "get off on me, ride me 'til you shake. Need you to cum, princess." 

Encouraged by your husband's words, you lifted ‘til just the tip was in before sitting down on him harshly. He continued to praise you and how delicious your warm pussy felt, a string of very lewd words produced with every swivel of your hips. Your face contorted in pleasure and he knew you were close, "touch yourself," came his instructions.

"shit!" You cursed, cumming on the spot when two of your fingers rubbed against your clit.

Seungcheol beamed at how well he knew you, your tells and your triggers when you're about to cum. But what he didn't see coming was just how fast the sight of you getting off on top of him would quickly bring him to the edge too. If he didn’t catch it at the last second, he might have just spilled in you.

In one swift motion, not even pulling out of you, he flipped you on your back and trapped you under his weight. You yelped when he pumped into you, catching you off guard as you were still trying to ride out your own orgasm. 

"Ba-aby, fuck. You're d-driving me insane," he growled, "don't you dare fucking close your eyes. Keep 'em on me." 

Your fingers weaved through his hair, as you desperately tried to follow his instructions. If only he wasn't hell bent on reaching his high, Seungcheol would've laughed at how often you'd train your eyes to look at him every time they kept trying to roll to the back of your head. "Daddy's gonna fuck a baby in you, you want that, princess?" 

"Y-yes daddy! yes!" You mewled, both your legs being lifted up, calves resting on Seungcheol’s meaty shoulders, while he inserted a pillow below your ass. "Fuck me full, daddy, please,” a breathless request.

He folded you in half, planting his knees on the mattress and bracing himself on your sides. Seungcheol drove his cock into you, hitting you so deep that you felt him just below your cervix and you moaned the loudest that night. Strangled moan after strangled moan came out of your mouth while throaty grunts and curse words flew off from his, all this mixed with the explicit sound of your sweaty bodies colliding.

"m-more, daddy! More, please!"  

"Fuuuuuuck, you're insatiable, so fucking tight," Seungcheol moaned. His movements were rough, pulling out of you completely before fully slamming back in and going deep with every move. The sex was everything close to animalistic, you could feel him in the deepest parts of you, consistently hitting a spot that made your brain short circuit. "So needy for my cum, want to be filled so bad."

"Daddy, so- oh my god. So fucking big.”

“Princess, I-I’m.. s-so...close,” he warned, staring at your teary eyes while your hands intertwined behind his neck. Seungcheol buried his cock in you, not bothering to thrust out of your grip, instead grinding endlessly to help stimulate your clit against his pelvis.

"Cum with me, Cheollie. P-please."  

Your husband growled before his hips jerked twice, hot spurts of his cum painting your walls white. His eyes boring into yours and the feeling of being so full only triggered your own release, rendering you into a babbling mess. Seungcheol connected your mouths in a kiss, not caring that you were already out of breath. He interspersed them with praises of how good you felt clenching on his cock. 

"I love you, Cheollie." 

"I know baby, I know. I love you too," he breathed, hissing at how hard he still was despite just hitting his climax. His dick was almost painful in your tight hold, "give me one more, yeah?" 

Before you could even process his question, you were already flipped on all fours, whining at the temporary emptiness. "Wha- Cheol, I-" 

"Be good for daddy, yeah? One more, princess. One more to get you round and full." But who were you to deny your Choi Seungcheol? Your husband who was just as ready to start a family with you like he's always dreamed of. Your arms gave way when you felt him breach your abused hole once more, your limp body allowing him to control your hips even more. He was kneading your ass, surely leaving handprints in his wake. 

"Ch- ahh!" You cried in a silent scream, the pleasure you were feeling just devouring your every being. You could feel the goosebumps rise on you scalp and run to the tips of your toes as Seungcheol pounded you from behind. "Cheollie... Oh.. oh! fu-uuuck." 

He pulled you by your hair harshly, your back flush against his chest, the low rumble of his voice affecting your body, "Call me Cheollie again and you won't get to cum." 

"Daddy!" you whined apologetically, tears freely flowing down your cheeks. 

"There you go, not so hard huh, princess?" Seungcheol teased, an arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cupped at your cunt. "Color, my love?" 

"G-green, daddy.. Pl-Please... just j-ust cum in me." 

"Fuck, you sound so broken... So greedy for my cum." Seungcheol relentlessly fucked up into you, until his pace grew erratic and bent you both forward. He stopped himself with his forearm to the mattress so as not to crush you, but with your muscles already weak, you simply face planted into the soft hotel pillows, drool and tears staining the white sheets.

"All mine," your husband chanted repetitively, stilling inside your pussy as it clenched around him tightly. Your orgasm rippled through you in a big tidal wave that Seungcheol could just feel your slick coat him anew. Your whole body shook uncontrollably, jolts of electricity alighting all your nerves. With one last loud call of your name, Seungcheol shot his load inside you, white ropes of sticky cum filling your cunt to the brim. His own thighs trembling as he finally collapsed on you, knocking out the little air you had left. He whispered i love you's to your ear, riding out his own orgasm which lasted longer than the both of you expected, especially when he just came a few minutes ago. 

In your two years of marriage, you don't think you've ever been this spent after sex, and neither did Seungcheol. But nothing catches his attention faster than the sound of you sniffing followed by a tiny hiccup. He moves up and pulls out of you so quickly that he hisses harshly, but you whine out even louder, causing alarm bells to ring in his head. 

"nooo..." you cry pathetically, your voice barely above a whisper, "come back."

"Baby, what's wrong?" Seungcheol pulls you towards him, eyes scanning your body for any abnormal pain, dreading the next few words out of his mouth, "did I hurt you?" 

You shook your head no, your hands grabbing at his chest to pull yourself closer to him and bury your face in his neck.

"Princess..." he started gently, still not completely sure if you were really okay. "I need your words. Need you to tell me if I hurt you." 

You choked as you tried to speak, voice straining from all the noises you've made tonight, but you were well aware your crying did nothing to comfort your husband. "I'm okay." 

"Was I too much?" 

"No. Never." You assured with a soft kiss on his chest. "So good to me." 

Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief at your words. "Wanna tell me why you're crying?" He asked, moving you both on your side so he could look at you properly, one hand soothing your back. His warm breath tickled your face, as he tried to wipe away your tears with the softest look in his eyes. 

You felt another squeeze in your heart while warmth crept up in your cheeks, both your hands instinctively covering your face when tears pricked at your eyes once more. You mumbled something but Cheol couldn't really understand and he didn't want to push, so he held you tighter instead, leaving kisses on your shoulder as his free hand brushed your hair. He could feel your tears wet his neck and shoulder and he willed himself to stay patient and calm. 

"I'm sorry," you squeaked after a long bout of silence between you two, "am I scaring you?" 

"A little bit," Seungcheol chuckled. 

You looked up into his eyes, wanting to make sure he knows he did nothing wrong, "I'm just overwhelmed," your voice began to crack again at the last word, "I... I just... I really want a family with you, Cheol," you sobbed, your hands attempting to cover your face again but your husband was quick enough to grab at them. His own cupped your face instead, a thumb wiping at your tears as he let out the brightest smile, his own cheeks dusted in a light pink shade. "I really want this to work, Cheol." 

"I do, too, baby but in our own time, yeah? If it’s for us, then it will happen one way or another. Let's not pressure ourselves too much. I don't want you to pressure yourself too much," your husband comforted, "Besides, with or without kids, I already have you... and Kkuma… you're already family to me."  

You were pretty sure you felt your heart grow a size bigger at his words, mentally thanking the heavens you had a husband who adored and loved you so much.

Your moment was cut off by the incessant buzz of a phone and when you looked towards the bedside table to check, sure enough your device was vibrating towards the edge. Picking it up to stop the ring, your eyes grew wide at the notification that flashed on top of the screen, a smile dancing on your lips as you comprehended the app’s words in black font.

"Cheollie?" 

"Yeah?"

"I'm ovulating."

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated ☺️

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Casual

warnings: best friend!jace, smut, p in v, arranged marriage with another man, cheating, fwb situation. Gif not mine (: most definitely not proofread as i wrote this at like 1 LMFAOO

A/n: Okay, so i never have written for him but my obsession is growing so… I’m straying away from rafe for a moment to try this. the got/hotd community is super good at writing, definitely a lot better than me, so… and im not super into the got/hotd lore, so i apologize if something is off 😭 im a casual watcher

♫ casual, chappell roan.

masterlist

divider below by @/plutism

He stared from afar, his eyes fixed on you and your now husband. The grip he had on his cup tightened, knuckles turning white. He tuned out the chatter of the people around him, attention solely on you.

You forced a smile when he cracked a joke, you had to hide the distaste you had when he touched your shoulder. You didn’t want to be married off to some man you barely knew, some man you didn’t love.

Your eyes traveled to your friend, his eyes staring right back at you. When Jace first found out you were marrying another, he didn’t want to believe it.

You two had this complicated relationship. You were sneaking around with the boy, hooking up, but it was all casual. That’s what you told yourself. Because you knew that it was since birth this loveless marriage had been planned.

You knew that you and Jace could never be.

“Excuse me for a moment.” You told your husband, interrupting him. His face fell, and he nodded. You smiled at the man, patting his arm and beginning to walk over to your best friend.

“Say, is Jacaerys Velaryon jealous of my husband?” You teased him, standing next to him. He chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course not. I’m happy for you.” He lied, an obvious one.

“Right… that’s why you’re eyeing me from across the room?” You teased, you didn’t miss the small smirk that fell on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You smiled, both of you looking at your husband now.

You commented, "He's nice, kind." you turned your head back to Jace and said, "But he's not you." Your voice was sincere, almost a whisper. His eyes searched yours, small smile still on his face.

He didn’t know how to respond, mouth going agape, he just turned back to the man who was currently getting showered in gifts, while you still looked at the man you loved.

“A small part of me always hoped it would be us.” He admitted after a moment of silence between the both of you. You raised an eyebrow, he turned to face you again.

“I know.” You nodded. “But…”

He raised his eyebrows now, curious as to what you were gonna suggest.

That’s how the both of you ended up in a room, you giggling as you shut the large doors. Your lips were on his in an instant, hands tangling into his curls.

“It’s your wedding. They’re gonna be looking for you.” He spoke when he pulled away for air, and you shrugged.

“Let them.” You murmured against his lips, both of you breathing heavily. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he smiled as he carried you over to the bed.

He gently laid you down, lips leaving yours momentarily so that he could slide his pants off. He bunched your dress up, moving it out of the way. He looked down at you, leaning down to kiss you again. Your lips were like a drug to him, always tempting him.

He lined his length up to your soaked hole, you holding him close when he slowly slid in. You bit your lip to suppress the noises you wanted to make, his large size stretching you out.

He looked down at you, your hands digging into his back, sure to leave crescent shaped marks. He let out a low groan, feeling your walls clench onto him. His eyes remained on you as he set a slow pace, you looking right back up at him with those glossed over eyes that he adored every time.

You felt every vein, every ridge and every inch against your walls. Your mouth went agape, his cock hitting your cervix. His hand went to your clit, rubbing circles onto it.

And with Jacaerys, you never lasted long. So you weren’t shocked when you already felt that knot in your stomach that had you arching off the bed for him. He smiled, kissing down your neck, and as much as he wanted to mark you up, he knew he couldn’t.

It was just another reminder of no matter how badly he wanted you, he couldn’t have you.

[coffee-and-geto]

“SAY YOU’RE MINE, I’M YOURS FOR THE NIGHT!”

pairing: kento nanami x f!reader

summary: forced to spend the evening with his co-workers, nanami has no idea that the bar he goes to with them is gradually turning into a club where your enticing body catches his beady-eye. so despite his exhaustion and tolerance for alcohol, nanami has every intention of enjoying his evening as much as you do by flirting with him.

warnings: +18 ONLY, smut, nsfw, age gap (11 years), fluff, slight domestic at the end, reader is a student, nanami an employee at a bank, needy! nanami, excessive drinking, alcohol, tired! nanami, sex (p in v), fingering (f! receiving), handjob, oral (f + m receiving), balls playing, cowgirl, teasing, unprotected sex, fanart by @/matchapichai on twt.

wc: 4,764

a/n: based on this post. hope you guys will enjoy this silly fic :)

“Come on, Nanami, going to an izakaya will do you good, and besides, the boss won’t be there, you can relax,” a colleague teased insistently.

“That’s true,” another one added, flipping her long chestnut hair over her shoulder in charming, seductive waves.

Nanami suppressed a sigh, fully aware of her futile attempts to flirt with him. She was a much younger colleague who seemed to have been drawn to him since his arrival at the bank where he worked.

“Maybe we could grow a little closer.” She flashed her brightest smile.

Perhaps Nanami gave in, as the dimmed lights of the bar did wonders for his mood — a stark contrast to the blinding lights above his office desk. He sat on a barstool and ordered a dry Martini — his usual choice after a long day at work.

Though he was used to drinking, the perfect man that Kento was stood far from the image of an alcoholic drowning his problems or drinking out of addiction. He was a man of sophistication who valued sobriety but could still appreciate refined tastes. Fatigue often gave him the urge to drink more to help ease into sleep, but he could thank his genetics for inheriting a high tolerance for alcohol from his family (dear reader, note the irony).

So how could he unwind in peace?

The bartender placed his drink in front of him after a few minutes, during which he tried, without much success, to follow his colleagues’ conversations.

The rolled-up sleeves of his blue shirt revealed long forearms with prominent veins that ran down to his large hands with thick fingers. Those fingers absentmindedly stirred his dry Martini, garnished with a thin slice of lemon, while his gaze swept across the bar, stopping when he heard a bell ring — the sign of new customers entering.

In the next second, several thoughts passed through his mind in precise order:

First, the exterior setting gave him a glimpse of the starry navy-blue sky, signaling how late it had gotten.

Then, he noticed a rather large group of people entering the bar, filling it quickly to the point where the noise of conversations was almost drowned out by the background music.

And finally, there was you.

Amidst all the commotion, it was your silhouette that caught his amber eyes. Standing by your side were what seemed to be your friends, with whom you were chatting cheerfully in your elegant evening dress. And as if you felt his gaze on you, you stopped laughing with your friend and turned your attention toward the bar, where your eyes instantly fell on him.

The shared gaze between the two of you intensified the atmosphere, and strangely enough, Kento didn’t seem ready to look away...

...at least not until his annoying colleague with the long hair, whose name he couldn’t even remember (had he ever?), slid up next to him, forcing him to break eye contact.

“Nanami-senpai, are you having a good evening?” she coos, batting her eyelashes, all smiles.

He let out a barely audible sigh. “Fine, and you?”

“Same.”

A slight pang tuggs at his heart, not out of interest in her, but out of pity for her wasted efforts. She was, after all, quite cute, polite, and always so gentle in both her manners and her voice — a true angel fallen from the heavens, yet still unable to reach the blonde.

Time continued to pass, with his colleague trying her best to keep the conversation alive, despite Nanami’s often short, closed answers. Loud, raucous laughter caught his attention, and he glanced over his shoulder.

There you are again.

Sitting on the couch, still surrounded by your friends, you’re deep in conversation, and for some reason, Nanami feels a sudden urge to join in. You seem so warm and charming. The changing lights of the bar shift with each movement of the cherry-red and occasionally neon-purple spotlights. Music now fills the bar, the dance floor packed with dancers, and the muffled conversations serving as background noise.

Just as he’s about to look away from you, you catch his attention by locking eyes with him for the second time that evening. He finds it hard not to stare, resting his elbow on the wooden counter while his thumb absentmindedly brushes his lower lip. You sit down next to him and order your drink.

Your hair cascades over your shoulder as you turn slightly toward him.

“Good evening,” you murmur, barely audible, your cherry-colored lipstick making him want to ruin it with his own mouth. A slight smile curls your lips.

He ignores his colleague, who was still trying to hold the conversation, to respond, “Good evening.”

You glance at his empty glass. “What were you drinking?” you ask.

And Lord, your voice intoxicates him far faster than the sherry ever could.

“Dry Martini,” Kento replies, his eyes fixed on yours. “But I think I’ll have the same as you.”

He gestures to the bartender, and less than a minute later, two glasses of dry vermouth appear in front of you, the clear liquid shimmering in the transparent glasses, with ice cubes floating on the surface.

“You don’t seem like you’re from around here,” you comment, taking a sip of your drink.

“I’m not.”

“I figured as much. You don’t look like someone who enjoys partying.”

Nanami raises an eyebrow, almost amused. “Oh really? So what do I look like?”

“Like a salaryman who just wants to go home after a long day on a Friday night,” you glance behind him, “but got dragged here by his colleagues without realizing the bar turns into a club after 10 PM, am I right?”

“Right on the mark,” Kento chuckles.

“Haha!”

“And you? You look like a real party girl,” he continues.

A mischievous smirk tugs at the corner of your carmine lips. “Close enough.”

Kento hums, narrowing his eyes as he studies you. “You seem younger than me.” He pauses. “Still a student?”

“Right on the mark,” you echo his words, taking another sip of your cocktail.

A pleasant silence settles between you two before you decide to break it.

“How old are you?”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Hmm…” you ponder, squinting slightly. “Late twenties, early thirties. No more, no less.”

“I’m thirty-four.”

You burst into laughter. “Such an old man!” you tease.

“And you?” Nanami counters with a slight smile, raising an eyebrow. “Still a baby fresh out of her mother’s arms, I guess?” He sips his glass of dry vermouth.

“Hey!” you protest, playing along with his teasing. “I’m twenty-three!”

“Really?”

“Really.” You nod, a smile in your softened voice. “11 years apart, but in the end, it’s just a number, right?” You gently bite your lower lip, and Kento doesn’t miss the slightly timid — albeit subtle — tone you’ve adopted, nor the rosy hue creeping up your cheeks.

Is it knowing his age that makes you seem even cuter?

Kento shrugs, downing the rest of his glass in one go. “Indeed, after all, it can depend on cultural norms.”

“Screw norms,” you mutter under your breath, suddenly annoyed, as you follow his lead and finish your glass.

Kento suppresses another smile and orders another drink.

“Aren’t you going to rejoin your friends?” he inquires.

“I have far less interest in them now that I’m in such better company,” you purr.

“I’m flattered.”

“You should be,” you add, moving your seat closer to his. And he can’t help but notice that your blush hasn’t faded.

Nor that a strand of your hair is blocking his view of your pretty face, so he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear. You jump slightly at the gesture but quickly regain your composure, thanking him in a soft whisper.

He pulls his arm back and quickly checks his watch.

“As charming as this company is, it wouldn’t be very wise to stay too late here,” Kento warns, his protective nature resurfacing. The bartender refills his drink, which he immediately begins to sip.

You pout. “Don’t you want to protect me?”

“You want me to protect you?”

"Couldn’t we do more?" you ask hopefully.

“I didn’t say that,” Kento responds, measured, rubbing a hand over his tired face, the alcohol starting to catch up with him. He needed to unwind.

“You seem exhausted,” you comment.

“I am. There’s no ‘seem’ about it,” he sighs.

Your hand — much smaller than his — glides along his exposed forearm. “Let’s go sit on the couches, Mister…”

“Kento Nanami. Call me Kento,” he says. “And you?” He stands up and pays both his tab and yours, despite your protests. All he wants is a name, after all. You finally give it to him with a slight pout, which he quickly erases by slipping an arm around your waist. “May I?”

Your lips part. “Yes.”

You both head toward a couch, half-occupied by a couple making out, too engrossed in each other to notice you.

The rest of the evening continues in the same flirtatious tone as at the counter, with waitresses bringing drinks to everyone, including Kento, who, despite the number of drinks, barely seems tipsy. Only the fatigue is visible on his face, but the smile you give him makes him forget about it as he listens to you talk, his head resting on the back of the couch, eyes closed for a few moments.

He doesn’t immediately realize how or why his head slips and falls onto you.

Or more precisely, onto your chest, exposed by the neckline of your dress.

He immediately straightens up. “Sorry, I—”

“No worries.” You pull him back against you, his face pressed against the middle of your breasts to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks. “You can stay like that, I don’t mind.”

Kento doesn’t argue, instead sighing softly, his large hands finding their way around your waist, gently squeezing as his thumbs trace soft circles over the fabric of your dress. So there he is, half-sprawled on the couch, using the softness of your chest as a pillow.

A comfortable silence settles between you two, filled by the background music from the bar-turned-club.

Yet it feels as though it’s just the two of you.

Kento looks so adorable like this, half-lying on you with his head on your chest — so cute, in fact, that you place a kiss on his prominent cheekbone.

Your lipstick leaves a hot red mark on his perfect skin, and you resist the urge to do it again — especially when Nanami’s cheeks flush, and he gazes up at you with a neediness in his captivating eyes.

“More,” he breathes so softly that the word barely makes it past the thumping beats and cherry-red LED lights. “Please, more—”

“Shhh.” You silence him, placing your finger gently on his thin lips, dying to taste them. Your fingertips gently scratch at the sharp undercut at the back of his neck, slowly moving up to his clean parting, and Nanami hums in appreciation.

“Please, another,” he whispers in a raspy murmur.

“You still look so tired yet so composed, Kento, hmm?” you purr into his ear, and suddenly, his shirt feels too tight around his muscular chest, stifling his breath. “Are you good with alcohol?”

He nods almost imperceptibly.

“How about a deal? For each kiss, you take a sip to help relax those poor shoulders, okay?” you coo, your voice enchanting as your hand glides sensually from his hair to his jaw, then down his neck, finally resting on his broad shoulders.

“Anything you want.”

And now, you’re pressed against each other, a needy Nanami in your arms, covered in cherry-red kisses from your lipstick while one of your hands holds a glass of extra añejo tequila, pressed to the edge of his lips.

You place another kiss on his face — this time, at the corner of his mouth — and Nanami lets out a soft moan, more like a muffled growl. One of his hands grabs your jaw, pulling you toward him, capturing your lips in a kiss filled with desperate, ravenous desire.

A smile curves your lips before you return the kiss he’s silently begging for. The tip of Nanami’s wet tongue brushes against the entrance of your mouth, asking gently for access. You grant it, sliding your own tongue to intertwine with his, humming at the sweet-bitter taste of alcohol.

“Kento,” you sigh between kisses. But he lets out a faint whine, eager to continue kissing you, which makes you giggle in amusement. Your hands gently hold the sides of his head, pulling him even closer to deepen the kiss.

Your breathing quickens, as does his, the tension between you two swelling like a balloon. After a few minutes that feel like an eternity, you slowly pull away, not moving too far — just enough to notice the bulge forming in the crotch of his beige slacks.

A sly smile forms on your lips. “Needy, hmm?” You shift slightly and raise one leg between his, allowing your knee and calf to slowly, discreetly brush up and down against his growing erection with each movement.

Just to tease him.

He clenches his jaw — likely grinding his teeth — trying to contain all the pleasure your touch is giving him. As your leg strokes upward one more time, his dick twitches in his slacks. Immediately afterward, a blush of embarrassment stains his hollow cheeks.

“Sweetheart, not here—”

“So, upstairs?” You wink at him.

Before he can respond, you plant yet another kiss on his lips and pull away. His amber eyes sparkle with desperate need as they meet yours.

“Look at you, Ken, so needy, so messy with that mouth of yours ruined by my lipstick, hmm?” you purr, your forefinger trailing down his blue shirt and toying with the hem of his yellow tie. “You want me? Aren’t you the older one?”

Your teasing was too much for him.

How can a young girl have this grumpy man wrapped around her finger?

That’s wild.

“Fuck,” he hisses, grabbing your wrist when you stop your knee at the level of his zipper, rubbing it in earnest. “You asked for it, so you’ll have it, my dear teaser.” He gives you a faint smile, sliding his rough hands down your waist as he stands up, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Kento—”

“No more Kento, sweetheart,” he whispers, forgetting about the crowd in the bar, now fully transformed into a club. A steady sway tells you he’s climbing stairs, and soon, your eyes fall on dark wooden steps. “A room okay? Or would you prefer the restroom?” He flashes a sly grin.

Even though you don’t know him that well, smiling this much doesn’t quite seem like Nanami.

Looks like the alcohol has had its effect on him...

“A room, of course!” you protest, and a genuine laugh echoes in your ears. The blush rises to your face, both from his laughter, which warms your heart, and from the idea of fucking in a semi-public area. Not that you would’ve minded.

“Alright, alright.”

A minute later, in a room with fresh sheets — clearly prepared for any intimate encounters between customers — Nanami is already above you, his tie undone, and his imposing body pinning you against the mattress. His soft lips devour yours with much more hunger, while his large hands caress your body from time to time — massaging slow circles on your waist with his thumbs, gently stroking the underside of your thigh he’s lifted against him, or running his fingers along your torso.

Things heat up further when Kento trails sloppy kisses down your neck, stopping at your collarbone before teasing the edge of your evening dress.

“May I?”

You nod quickly, helping him get rid of your clothing in no time. Now only in black lingerie, Nanami continues his trail of kisses along your body. Your heart racing, you let out a soft moan as he caresses your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

“Feels good?” He starts to gently pinch them, then takes your breasts in his hands to massage them softly. “So soft,” he murmurs, placing another kiss between your breasts.

“Kento, I want more,” you whisper, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer until your crotch is pressed against his obvious bulge. A wave of electric pleasure shoots through your core, making you gasp as you rub against him, desperate to feel more. “Please…”

Your pout tugs at his heart, enough for him to lower himself down to your lower abdomen and kiss it tenderly. “A little lower?” he mutters. He uncrosses your legs after your squeaky “yes” and spreads them, planting a chaste kiss in the center on your clit, which he can already feel swollen even through the fabric. “Here?” He sticks out his tongue, licking the wet spot forming on your underwear and pressing his nose against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Ah—Kento,” you moan, bucking your hips against his face for more friction. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting out more sweet sounds as he seriously begins the foreplay, pulling your panties down your legs and sliding them off completely. “Hmmm! Ah!”

Without waiting any longer, his lips capture your clit, torturing it in the gentlest way — his finger tracing teasing circles around your entrance, which clenches and releases around nothing. “So needy and wet f’me…”

“F-finger, a finger, I want a finger inside me, please,” you babble, panting and squealing.

“You sure? I don’t think you deserve that reward, sweetheart,” Kento tuts, still lapping at your clit as the pad of his forefinger gently taps your damp entrance. “You were such a tease, rubbing my cock through my pants and telling me you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, didn’t you say that?”

He chuckles softly when you pout again, giving him those puppy-dog eyes. “Kento, I’m sorry, I’ll be a good girl, I just want you so bad…”

He smirks, savoring your pleading tone. Then, he pushes his finger into you, the tightness making him stifle a groan, though it’s only the first third of his finger. “That’s what you want?” he coos.

“More, please, haa…”

He feels you clench around his thick finger, and the sensation is delicious for him. He slides a bit more of his finger in, pressing the pad against your cervix, causing your back to arch immediately. “How responsive.”

“Kento, please,” you whine, tears welling up in your eyes. Your tight pussy sucks on his finger so perfectly, so how will it handle his fat cock? Shivers run down his spine at the mere thought.

He starts slowly pumping his finger inside you, rubbing against your soft, gummy walls that make him want to devour you. “You’re so wet,” Kento comments, finger-fucking you tenderly, the slick sound evident. He suddenly pulls his finger out with a pop sound, despite your protests, and brings it to his mouth. His tongue wraps around it as he hums. “Tastes so good, sweetheart.”

Your face flushes completely, but you try to shake off the feeling by taking one of his free hands and bringing it to your chest, still covered by your bra. “I want you. Now.”

“You wanna take the lead?” he chuckles, planting light kisses on your inner thighs.

“After,” you murmur, unclasping your bra before sitting up to gently push Kento back onto the bed and straddle him. “I want to play with you a little, then we’ll see.” As you lower your hips, your dripping, naked cunt presses against the bulge in his pants, already swollen from his erection.

The effect on Nanami is immediate. He wastes no time grabbing your hips, holding them firmly to stop you from moving — risking him cumming in his pants.

“God, you’re perfect,” he praises, closing his eyes for a moment, a small crease forming between his brows. “Baby, fuck, I can’t even think straight—”

You cut him off with a deep kiss, your smaller, agile hands quickly undoing his shirt buttons. You can feel the throb of his dick beneath your cunt, with only his pants in the way — and your wetness soaking the fabric in the process.

You gently rub against him, forcing him to let out a sharp breath. His nails dig into your hips as you trail kisses down his chest, pressing a kiss to each of his abs.

“You want more, Kento?” Your voice turns just as teasing as your wandering hands that play with the blond hair above his groin. You move lower, grazing over the growing bulge in his pants, knowing it’s about to burst. “My mouth? My hands? Both?”

“Anything, sweetheart, as long as you touch me, please,” Kento breathes out, sucking in a sharp breath as you swiftly unzip his pants, kissing the length of his cock that now lies across his lower abdomen.

His balls look fuller and more obvious, even through the thin layer of his boxers, and the urge to squeeze them becomes overwhelming. You do, pressing lightly, the squishy sensation making you giggle, while Nanami finally lets out a groan.

“Please, haa, I’m close,” he pants, grabbing your wrists to stop you.

You pout, furrowing your brows. “I’m not done.”

Nanami slowly pulls down his boxers, his hands slightly trembling as he frees his thick, hard cock. “Now you can.”

Without hesitation, you wrap your hand around his length, gently stroking from the base to the tip. Your mischievous mouth moves to his balls, softly sucking on one, which makes you grin — they’re so soft and adorable. Kento’s precum leaks quickly, trickling between your grip and along his shaft, slicking it up.

You stroke him faster and harder until Nanami is reduced to incomprehensible babbling, and he warns you how close he is. “Baby, I’m cumming, I—”

His thick, abundant load spurts, coating your hands and dripping onto the balls you were sucking fervently. “You taste so sweet,” you mumble, licking up his cum while cleaning him at the same time.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, and as soon as he catches his breath, you move up over him again, aligning his still-hard cock beneath your dripping pussy.

“Wanna ride you,” you pout, begging him with your eyes. “Can I?”

“Of course, baby, take it easy, okay?” Kento murmurs, gripping your hips to help you lower onto him.

As the tip pushes inside you, you immediately tighten around him, encouraging him to fill you with his fat, aching cock. You moan loudly as he slides deeper, reaching so far inside you that you can feel him brushing against your womb, so perfectly and heavenly.

“Oh, God— Fuuuck, you feel so good, so perfect, attagirl,” Kento babbles, his lips parted in pleasure, but his eyes never leave yours, watching every wince and every sound you make.

He lets you adjust to him, gently spreading his legs to ensure that every inch he has is swallowed by your greedy cunt. You cry out as he reaches your deepest point.

“Ah, Kento, so fucking deep, so big, I’m so full,” you babble, tears welling up in your eyes once again. Your chest rises and falls uncontrollably, and even when you try to stabilize yourself, it’s hard to resist bouncing on his dick.

So that’s exactly what you do, lifting your hips easily thanks to the firm grasp he has on your soft sides, following the rhythm to gently bounce on him.

“That’s it, baby, you’re doing good,” Kento whispers, clenching his jaw to suppress his moans. “Fuck, just like that, tell me if you need more help.”

“Feels so good,” you squeal. "Please, help me a bit." You try to bounce on him a little faster, but it’s much harder than you expected.

The slapping sounds fill the room, and a steamy atmosphere settles in. You lean in closer as Kento helps you bounce up and down on his cock faster and deeper, his grunts and moans escaping. “Want me to fill you up, baby?”

You pick up the pace, your pussy greedily swallowing his length and tightening even more when you hear his words. You moan together, your desperate sounds mingling in the heat of the moment. Meeting Kento’s lust-filled gaze, you reply, “Yes, want to be full of your cum, please, Kento.”

“Anything for my good girl.”

He pulls you against him, taking control even though you’re on top. The scent of sex fills the room, signaling that both of your climaxes are nearing. With his powerful thrusts, he sinks deeper into you, relentlessly hitting your sweet spot, until you’re almost crying from the pleasure.

“I’m starting to get close, sweetheart,” Kento whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as your walls tighten around him.

“M-Me too, want to cum on your cock, Ken,” you cry, biting down on his trapezius to stifle your sweet sounds.

“I’m gonna fill you up, okay?” Kento bucks his hips harder into you, the wet sounds getting louder and more steady. You nod and sniffle, tightening around him as you teeter on the edge of orgasm.

“Cummin’, ah!” Your pussy spasms around him just as he releases inside you, spurting thick drops deep into your womb. He groans, his hands gripping your hips even tighter, surely leaving marks that will appear tomorrow.

“Oh, you feel so good, my sweet girl.” Kento keeps thrusting into you, slower and more tenderly now, guiding both of you through your orgasms.

Warm, white ropes leak out of your walls as they milk every drop from him, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

“You’re perfect, my love,” Kento mutters into your neck, peppering your slightly damp skin with kisses.

“I love you,” you breathe, letting your body lay flat against his, unwilling to leave his embrace ever again.

─────────────────────

When you wake up, the daylight makes you squint, causing you to groan. You turn onto your side and suddenly open your eyes wide.

You’re no longer in the club bed, but in one that’s unfamiliar to you.

A few inches away, a masculine figure half-covered by white sheets is, in fact, Kento, who also begins to stir, his gaze immediately finding yours.

“Sweetheart.”

The nickname warms your heart.

And suddenly, you remember spending the rest of the evening with him, and when it came time to leave, you cried and protested, wanting to stay with him. How could he refuse such an adorable and sweet-hearted request?

“I want to live with you.”

Kento’s eyes widen, and he’s on the verge of choking on his own saliva. “What—”

“You heard me. I don’t want to leave you, please,” you insist, biting your lip. “I want to be your girlfriend, your partner, or even your wife.”

“Hey, easy.” He sits up and pulls you into his arms. “You might still be under the influence of the alcohol. Do you want me to take you back home—”

“No! Ken, I’m serious, please!”

Big, hot tears roll down your cheeks.

Why are you becoming so emotional and stubborn like a child? This childish behavior doesn’t suit the adult you are, and yet…

“Hey, hey, hey! Sweetheart, I understand, please, don’t cry,” Kento whispers, panicking, wrapping his powerful arms around you and pulling you close to him. “You’re really serious? Are you sure about what you’re saying?” He plants a series of sweet kisses along your jawline, sending shivers through you. His thumb wipes away your tears as he gently rocks you.

You nod, sniffling. “Yes, I love you, I realized it after we slept together,” you explain, your voice slightly hoarse. You clear your throat. “Do you… or…?”

“I love you,” Kento replies almost immediately. “I don’t know how it happened, but you’re adorable, stubborn, and an unmatched tease, but I love you, angel.” He pauses.  So, you want to live with me?”

You nod. “Please.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll never leave you, okay?”

You wipe away the remaining traces of tears and gently kiss Kento’s lips, a smile forming as you notice his hair tousled from sleep. “Love ya.”

“I love you too, baby.”

A moment of silence follows, where you both settle into the warmth and comfort of each other until Nanami decides to break the peaceful quiet. “Are you hungry? We can have breakfast together if you want,” he suggests, a soft, tender smile appearing on his face, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach — and even lower — when you see a faint blush tinting his cheeks.

What a perfect husband he’ll make.

“I know how to make pancakes.” You smile proudly.

“Pancakes it is.”

a/n: i want to write more nanami fics if you guys have any idea around him being older pls ask me in my inbox!! also i’m so sorry if my writing sucks actually i’m so exhausted rn and i’m on my period (cramps hurt so bad) 😭

edit: i was writing this last week so yeah, basically i’m also sick this weak and i lost my voice... can you believe me? 💀

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison @koshhin

also check comments!! there’s people i can’t tag so i do it in comments :) if you want to be added in the tag list, let me know here.

[little-diable]

Hate - Draco Malfoy (smut)

Oh boy, this is filthy, like really fucking filthy. I don’t know what came over me, but I hope you’ll love this just as much as I do. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: pwp, pure hate fuck

Warnings: 18+, smut unprotected piv, oral (m), degrading, hate fuck

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (about 1.2k words)

“You fucking bitch, you just had to ruin it for me, didn’t you?” Draco had her pressed against the wall, eyes trying to burn holes through her skin. His rings left marks on her throat, keeping her in place, with no way to escape. She was heavily panting, snarling at the man.

“You deserved it, you’re nothing more than an insecure piece of-” the rest of her sentence was left unspoken as Draco crashed his lips against hers, kissing her with an all too familiar hunger spurring him on. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to one another, letting their anger, their hatred for one another guide them.

“I’d be careful if I were you, (y/n), I have no problem with making you pay right here in the hallway. But it’d be a shame if somebody would see you with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock, kneeling for me, wouldn’t it? We don’t want to ruin your reputation.” His voice had a dangerous undertone to it, dripping with something that left her thighs clenching and her walls fluttering around nothing. Draco held a special kind of magic over her, nothing they had learned about in the past years, more darker and sinister than ever allowed. Both hated one another deep down to the core, spitting and growling words towards one another whenever they could, and yet neither of them could stay away from the other.

“You’re all talk and no bite, Malfoy, nothing more than daddy’s little boy.” A deep growl left Draco, pulling (y/n) away from the wall to push her into the nearest empty classroom, locking it before anybody could follow them. Their lips fought for victory, tongues tangled as (y/n) was pushed against the nearest desk, hissing in pain. His ring clad fingers pulled her skirt up to her waist, forcing her to hiss as the cold air teased her soaked panties.

“I will fuck your bratty attitude right out of you, just like a slut like you deserves to be treated.” A whimper left (y/n) as his hand met her behind, set on leaving his marks on her. “But first, I’ll fuck that mouth of yours, make you forget all your empty threats.”

(Y/n) dropped to her knees without protesting, parting her lips like she had done numerous times before. She watched him free his hardening cock, pushing his precum bearded tip past her lips, letting her taste him. His taste stuck to her tongue, forcing moans out of the both of them as she traced his veins with her skilled tongue, burning words, confessions into his skin.

“Fuck, it’d be so much easier if you’d always listen to me, giving your body to me like my own toy, mine to use how I like.” Heavy pants left Draco as he stared down on her, watching her bob her head, begging him to hold onto her. His fingers tugged on her hair, guiding her for a few more seconds before he pulled her away. “Against the desk, I want to feel that tight, perfect cunt of yours.”

She was pulled to her feet, bent over the desk without another warning, leaving her gasping as the edge of the desk collided with her hips, sure to leave marks. It was an inferno that guided them, a fire so vicious that all those surrounding them would burn to death, but not them, never the two of them, deeply connected, no matter if they liked it or not.

“Please, Draco, fuck me, need you inside of me.” His hand came in contact with her behind again, forcing her to shut up, quiet for the growling man who couldn’t hold back, spitting into his palm to lube himself up, saliva mixed with hers. He didn’t hold back as he pushed into her, didn’t give her any warning, hand placed on the back of her head to press her face against the desk. Curses left the both of them, heavily breathing as he fucked her against the desk, leaving her arousal dripping down her thighs.

The sound of his cock disappearing inside her tightness filled the room, paired with their moans and groans, a mixture so intimate no one would guess that the both were fuelled by their hatred. They were trembling in anger, filled with something that could leave one burning with the first, careful touch.

“It’s a shame you’re such a bitch, otherwise I’d do nothing else but fuck you every single day.” His words left her walls clenching, unable to bite down the pictures now filling her mind, wondering how it must feel to stick to his side day in, night out. (Y/n) had her eyes squeezed shut, letting go of heavy breaths as she clung to the edge of the table, trying to claw her fingernails into the wood.

“Let me cum, please.” Draco didn’t reply, all he did was hum as he dug his fingertips into her hips, holding onto her. His pace grew faster, rougher, set on making her cum on his cock before he’d give in. (Y/n)‘s moans grew higher, letting go with his name rolling off her tongue like a spell she knew by heart.

Her orgasm rocked through her with an almost unfamiliar intensity, leaving her trembling and aching, unable to support herself much longer. Draco pulled out of her, forcing her back down on her aching knees so he could fuck her mouth, set on filling her cheeks with his cum. Tears dripped down her cheeks, clinging to her skin like a veil.

“You’ll be a good girl for me and swallow, won’t you?” (Y/n) tried to nod her head, humming around his cock as a simple reply to the question that left her trembling. She loved hearing his moans - even though she’d never tell him that - loved to watch him fall apart, all because of her. Draco fucked her mouth, forcing his cock deep down her throat, leaving her gagging for him.

“God, fuck.” His eyes rolled back into his head, head thrown back as he came down her throat, pumping her cheeks full with his release. She swallowed every drop just like he had asked her to, clean tongue exposed to his piercing eyes as he pulled away, tugging his cock back into his trousers.

“Look at you, you’re so pathetic. Kneeling for the guy you claim to hate, but we both know you don’t hate me, you love me, you love the idea of being owned by me. Just as much as I love owning you.”

[whimsyfinny]

How to Avoid the Love of Your Life

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: (Y/n) had spent the last four years of her life avoiding him, but when her and Dean inevitably cross paths again it could go one of two ways - either really good, or really bad.

Warnings: Language, angst (so much fucking angst I'm sorry), Smut, PinV, Fingering, Oral (F receiving), Overstimulation, Dean being a sex God, reader being anxious, bad breakup, reader having a gun

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 8200 (wtf I'm sorry I got carried away)

A/N: Here it is! I'm sooooo sorry @jackles010378 that this took so long. I would've had it up last week but my kid got sick and I had to learn how to solo parent hahaha. Anyway, this is the final competition oneshot, and I hope you enjoy it!

“Well well, what do we have here?”

A voice that I knew all too well reached my ears through the crowd of people in the bar. The deep tone of his voice immediately brought goosebumps to my skin and a small smirk to my lips. I straightened where I stood besides the pool table, lowering the cue and leaning on it lazily as I turned to the direction the voice had come from.

“Dean Winchester,” I let my eyes travel over his rugged form; taking in the faint new scars on his face, his weather-beaten jacket and distinctive choice of plaid and denim. He looked virtually the same as he did when I last saw him four years ago - just older. His eyes now holding more haunting memories than any man should ever have to keep locked away in the depths of ones mind.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I asked with the tilt of my head as he took a step closer, ignoring the bustling of people trying to get past him to order more drinks.

“You know why we’re here,” he pushed his hands into his pockets as he took another step, slowly creeping closer.

“Hmm,” I hummed, reaching for my beer and taking a sip, letting the bitter bubbles sit on my tongue for a moment before swallowing them down.

“So, I take it this has nothing to do with coming for that falsely promised personal visit, and all to do with the pack of werewolves that have moved in across town?” I jabbed the beer bottle in his direction, feeling the smile on my face lose its warmth. Dean sighed and looked at his boots, and when he’d pondered on his answer, ready to verbalise it, I cut him off.

“Jody has been doing her fucking best to keep shit safe around here with the skills you taught her. The least you could do is check in a couple of times a week - visit once a month.”

“Listen sweetheart-”

“I don’t need to hear how you saved the world five hundred times this week. I don’t need to hear it second hand from other hunters. I need to hear it from you. She needs to hear that you’re ok. We all do.”

Dean looked up, his eyes meeting mine, clouded by a regretful shadow.

“(Y/n) I’m sorry. Life has been so fucking messed up and sometimes I don’t even know what fucking month it is. I’ll do better. Me and Sam - we’ll be better.”

I stared at him intently, reassuring myself that he wasn’t saying ‘he’d be better’ if he didn’t mean it. He’d fed me empty lies wrapped in colourful silk in the past and I’d unwrapped every one with a hopeful heart, disappointment following every single one of them. People live and they learn, and I was no exception.

“If you’re not better, for Jodys sake - for Claire and Alex and even Donna - then I will never forgive you.” I stared at Dean long enough to feel the frustration towards him start to simmer in my veins, reminding me why I did what I did all those years ago. I was willing to endure him for my family’s sake despite hating that stupid pedestal they’d put him on - hating how in their eyes, he could do no wrong.

If only they could see him through my eyes.

The sound of long-strided footsteps and a familiar voice exclaiming “oh shit” snapped me from my festering thoughts, and I looked up to see Sam walk up and stand next to Dean.

“Sam!” I smiled, his face the picture of apprehension as he nervously smiled back.

“H-hey (Y/n), it’s been a while. I’m surprised to see you.”

I raised an eyebrow and looked around the room incredulously before locking eyes with him again.

“Surprised to see me? Drinking in a bar, in my hometown? Where you guys know that I live? I know, right? Who would’ve thunk it.”

Sam shifted nervously, like he wanted to whisper something to his brother or simply whisk him away to a booth where they could sip beers, work a case and ogle waitresses. I sighed out a mentally exhausted breath - the presence of the Winchesters flooding my mind with memories of a better time - a simpler time. Dean was right about one thing - that life was messed up.

“Look, I’m clearly keeping you boys from your secret club meeting. I promise to behave if you do too,” I eyed them, waiting for them to accept the proposal of peace. Sam nodded, offering a few lacklustre words of poor convincing whilst Dean just stared at me, his lips twitching into a slight smirk, his eyes swimming in defiance.

“You’ve never been one to behave yourself, have you? Let's see how long this lasts.”

“Fuck you, Dean.”

Sam pulled Dean away before any more weaponised words could be fired, Deans lips forever holding that slap-worthy grin as he eventually turned his back and headed to the other side of the bar.

For the whole evening I could feel eyes on my back and a prickle on my skin. No matter what I did or how much I tried to distract myself - I was so hyper-aware that the Winchesters were sitting at a table just across the room. Every time I turned my back or walked to the bar, I could feel myself scrutinised under an unwanted observation. As I politely turned down the offer of a drink from a handsome stranger, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I reached to answer it, my palms growing sweaty when I saw the name flash on the screen.

“Hey Jody,” I fought to keep my voice steady, my previous frustrations starting to bubble to the surface again.

“Hey (Y/n)! You’re never going to guess who’s in town!”

My teeth immediately clenched and I shot a glare over to where the brothers were sitting, watching Dean tuck his phone back into his pocket and drop his head into his hands.

When I failed to utter a single word at Jody’s excited proclamation, she instantly caught on.

“Oh shit, you know already, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You at the bar?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“I feel like I spoke at him, which counts I guess.”

Despite knowing my inner conflictions, she chuckled slightly.

“You give him a piece of your mind?”

“Yup,” I sighed, running a hand over my face, “I think I’m going to have to keep my distance from him, Jody. Just seeing him - looking at him after all these years - it hurts. It fucking hurts and he doesn’t realise how much he messed me up with everything that he did and said,” I could feel that all too familiar burn in my eyes as I fought desperately against the tears; biting my lip to stop it from trembling. When I gave my emotions away with a not-so-discrete sniff, Jody’s more sympathetic side emerged.

“Aw sweet girl, I know it’s hard. Do you want me to come and get you?”

I shook my head despite knowing she couldn’t see me and wiped away a rogue tear.

“No it’s ok, I think I just need to be alone. Plus I know you - you want to spend some time and catch up with them, which is fine and I get it. It’s just not something I can be there for right now,” I lifted my head and looked through the crowd of people, watching how Sam talked to Dean and Dean fiddled with his beer bottle again. I looked down before he could see me, though I knew he would be able to pick me out of any crowd anywhere within a matter of minutes. I hated that he knew me so well.

“If you’re sure, you know where we are if you need anything.”

“I know, thanks Jody. And… I’m sorry for making this so complicated for you. I know you have no reason to hate him, and I don’t like putting you in the middle like this.”

“(Y/n) I get it sweetheart, you have nothing to apologise for. Just…” she paused, as though debating if her words were worth saying.

“Just what?”

“Just don't do anything stupid,” I could hear the slight amusement in her voice despite her words of caution. I chuckled slightly, wiping away another tear.

“You know me - I can’t make that promise. Bye Jody, see you later.”

After the farewell I hung up the phone, deciding some fresh air would help me to cool my head.

I'd barely taken five steps out the bars entrance and into the parking lot when the harsh sound of rowdy chatter drew my attention. Snapping my head towards it, cold blood filled my veins at the sight in the shadows - the gut wrenching sight of a small group of men huddling together and attempting to steal a car.

To steal Baby.

The cold sensation of dread quickly transformed into the heat of fury as my blood started to boil at the sheer audacity of the thieving group, now doing their best to stay out of the glow of the street lamp. They were lucky it was me that had found them and not Dean, as the latter would have dropped every single one of them by now and not left a soul breathing. I know Dean and I no longer had any sort of relationship, but when we did, this car had been witness to every moment. Baby saw every smile, laugh, and happy tear shared between Dean and I, along with petty lovers quarrels and raw moments of lust filled passion. I'd lost count of how many times we'd steamed up those back windows since we were teenagers and Dean stole the car from his old man for our first date. Then there were the long rides from case to case - Sam and I arguing over who rode shotgun - with Metallica blasting from the speakers, windows rolled down and the wind wisping every worry away as we belted our lungs out. Those were the best moments of my life. In that car. And I'd be damned if I let some dive bar fuckheads steal her.

With zero hesitation I pulled out the gun tucked into my boot and fired three warning shots to the sky before aiming my piece at them, wary that they might also be packing.

“Get away from the FUCKING car - NOW!”

The anger in my voice was a deadly warning as the group turned to me like rabbits in the headlights before turning tail and bolting - one of them dropping a hefty crowbar in the process. As I lowered my gun when they fled, I turned around at the sound of hurried footsteps thumping on the gravel behind me.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean had arrived at my side before Sam and he reached to rest a hand on the small of my back; guided by muscle memory. I turned to face him, a small crowd gathering outside the bar to witness the fleeting commotion. As Sam arrived I explained, my voice harbouring a slight tremble of adrenaline and frustration.

“Some assholes tried to steal Baby-”

“WHAT?!” Deans voice filled with horror, yet his hand remained on my back.

“But you- you're ok right? They didn't hurt you?”

“What? No, I'm fine.”

With my confirmation he withdrew his hand and doubled over, resting his palms on his knees and dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Ugh thank fuck - you scared the shit out of me.”

Sam, who appeared shortly after Dean, patted him on the back and flashed me a split-second grin, the glint lingering in his eyes.

“Yeah, I don't think I've seen Dean move so fast - like… ever.”

I couldn't stop the soft, airy laugh leaving my lungs, a memory flooding my mind.

“I think the fastest I ever saw him move was when we used to hunt with your dad, and Dean took the car without permission. John ended up stranded at that god-awful motel for six hours after we accidentally fell asleep in the layby-”

“Oh god, was that the motel with those raccoons?” Dean stood up straight, the memory seeming to light up his face as he looked me straight in the eye, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.

“Yes - oh my GOD those raccoons were awful,” I started to chuckle and I could tell Dean was holding it in.

“Raccoons?” Sam asked, looking between us with a raised eyebrow. I opened my mouth to explain but Dean beat me to it.

“In every corner of each room there was a taxidermy raccoon, however the person who taxidermied them obviously had no idea what an actual raccoon looked like.”

“Most of them had eyes that were too close together and their bodies were way too long - like some sort of ferret-raccoon hybrid,” I chimed in, the memory bringing warmth to my chest at the comical idiocy of it all.

“I remember dad turned his so they faced the wall and away from the bed,” Dean let out a small laugh, managing to pull one from Sam as well as we slowly made our way over to the car, my gun returned to the holster in my boot.

“I'm pretty sure that was the first and last thing that ever gave John Winchester genuine heebie jeebies,” I looked up at Sam's disbelieving expression.

“And your brother hid his in the bottom of the closet.”

Dean grimaced before chuckling again.

“They had tiny little ferret-raccoon buttcheeks.”

“Oh god yeah, they were so prominent.”

“So prominent.”

Stepping up to Baby, Dean gave her a thorough once over, running his large hands gently over the places most likely to have laid victim to the crowbar. After three laps and continuous scrutiny, he deemed her unharmed.

We stood together for a moment in silence, the conversation having bled out, leaving nothing but our prior heavy tension and my own dwelling sorrow. I looked up at them both, my gaze lingering on Dean.

“Look, I need to go. I can't- I can't be around you right now, Dean. I'm glad Baby is ok and I…” I sucked in a breath, steadying my voice, “I wish you all the best. Both of you. Stay safe out there.” with my final words I spun on my heel and left.

The motel room was pitch black save for the small box TV flickering in the corner, the original Ghostbusters playing through blown out speakers. I sat in the middle of the couch rocking baggy plaid pj pants and an old band t-shirt (likely Deans, much to my own dismay). With criss-crossed legs and a bowl of popcorn in my lap, I attempted to wallow, Rory Gilmore style, over a man who I would never fully get over. Mine and Deans relationship had ended years ago, yet here I was, the wound still as fresh as the day it was inflicted. Most days I get by, and sometimes even forget the pain he caused me, allowing me to feel light and almost normal. But seeing him in the flesh, catching the scent of him and hearing his voice had turned my defences to ash. I felt exposed and raw, my heart practically on a silver platter ready for another round of being ripped to pieces. I thought I would be able to handle it if I ran into him. I knew deep down in my gut that it would happen eventually, that it was unavoidable given my living arrangements. That he would likely come and visit Jody and the others, and I would have to pretend that everything was ok - that my heart wasn't still breaking over him. I'd avoided him for this long, always able to find the perfect excuse to not be around when he showed up. It was about time the avoidance streak ran it out.

The sound of his laugh earlier this evening had tightened every muscle in my chest, reminding me of every blissful moment we'd spent together - obsessed with each others company and craving nothing else on this fucked up Earth. His smile had made me want to weep, knowing I no longer got to wake up to it every morning or let it be the last thing I witnessed before sleep. The smile that got us both into so much trouble, both as teenagers and adults alike. The smile that always made arguments feel absurd half way through. No matter who I encounter in life or how many people God throws at me in an attempt to fill the void left behind by Dean, it's an incurable hole in my soul that can never be healed.

I shovelled a handful of popcorn into my mouth as I watched the movie unfold - desperate for the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man to reach through the screen and devour me along with my melancholy attitude. Too preoccupied with the film and the strange attraction I seemed to be harbouring to men in boiler suits, I almost missed the low rumble of an engine pull into the motel parking lot outside my room. An all too familiar engine. My ears pricked before reality dawned, the blood draining from my face.

“That son of a bitch.”

I scrambled off the couch and ducked behind it, popcorn flying, knowing all too well that he'd come peering in through the gaps in the blind - which my dumbass had left open so I could watch the rain. Heavy rain and self pity went together like jack and coke after all.

There were a few breaths of silence after the squeak and slam of the impala door, and I thought maybe I'd gotten away with it. Perhaps he was staying in a room further down? Fate was forever against me though when there was a loud knock on the door. I flinched, anxiety dampening my palms as I tucked my knees into my chest and held my breath, praying to Chuck himself that Dean would leave. That he'd convince himself that he was making a reckless decision by being here, or that he had the wrong room. I almost jumped out of my skin when he rapped on the window and his voice boomed through the pattering of rain and static-y TV audio.

“I know you're in there (Y/n), now open the door.”

Even if I'd wanted to move, the ability to do so had fled my body, my muscles petrified at the thought of confronting him. I jumped again when he hammered on the door this time, the cheap wood rattling on its hinges.

“Jesus Christ, (Y/n)! Your truck is parked outside and I can see your hunting gear on the table. Open the fucking door!”

“Go away!”

“Not until you let me speak to you!”

“No!”

There was a loud THUD as his boot collided with the door and I heard him growl in frustration. I could just picture him pacing in a circle, running a hand through his hair.

“(Y/n)-”

“Please, Dean, just… just don't. I can't look at you.” I felt my voice shrink as I pulled my knees tighter to my chest, unsure if he caught my words. He did.

“What- why not?” His voice was a wretched mix of desperation and confusion, cracking between words.

I was quiet for a moment, letting the silence hang thick in the air before I pushed myself to my feet, instantly missing the comfort of the upright foetal position. I wandered over to the door, my fuzzy-socked feet padding on the thread-bare carpet.

“Because,” I leant against the wood, my heart aching at the thought of him being so close yet so devastatingly untouchable, “if I open this door I'm going to undo all the progress I've made with getting over you, Dean.” His name was bittersweet as it slid off my tongue. The quiet sound of Dean sucking in a breath hissed through the gaps in the wood.

“Please, sweetheart. I need you to open this door.”

The softer tone of his voice made him infinitely harder to resist, but I had to stand my ground.

“Dean, you know I can't,” my eyes burned as the tears started to well, my voice objecting to my words with a pitiful rasp.

“Yes you can,” he paused, “you have to, otherwise I'm going to kick this piece of shit down.”

My eyes flew wide.

“No-no Dean-”

“Stand back.”

“Don't!”

“Three…”

“Stop-”

“Two…”

“Dean-”

“One-”

“Fine!”

I grasped the handle and flung the door open, my heart dancing with my stomach when I finally caught sight of him. There he was, soaked through from the rain and giving me that woeful Mr Darcy stare. The water droplets clung to his lashes and trickled down his cheeks, the breathtaking beauty of him erasing the pre-prepared sentence from my mind. Now, all I could think at that moment was to get him warm and dry. The noose around my heart tightened when I reached a hand out to grasp his, pulling him in out of the downpour. As the door closed behind him there was a pause, my quickly dissolving self restraint making it agonising to be in his presence. And Dean seemed to know that, yet he remained.

“(Y/n)-”

“Don’t,” as the cold water started to pool around his boots, I paced over to the bathroom, quickly emerging with a fuzzy towel in hand. I passed it over to him slowly, treating him like a wild, unpredictable animal that could pounce at any moment. He took it gently from my grasp, his fingers softly brushing mine. His skin was cold and damp from the outdoors. We stood in silence for a few moments whilst Dean dried his hair as best as he could, shortly after shrugging off his jacket to hang on the dining chair beside him. As he continued to ruffle his hair dry, I steeled myself, taking a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Why are you here, Dean? What do you want?”

He lowered the towel and hung it with his jacket, sighing from the pit of his stomach.

“Me and Sam went to see Jody and the others. I was hoping to run into you again - I wanted to talk to you. But when you didn’t appear, Jody said you’d checked out for a few nights - said you wanted to be away from the house when… uh…” his voice faltered and something akin to guilt flashed in his eyes. Unable to finish his sentence he leant on the table, staring intently at the pile of hunting gear I'd dumped there.

“When you arrived,” I finished it for him, “Yeah, that’s right. And I told  her not to tell you where I was.”

“She didn’t,” he stood up straight again, holding his hands up, “I knew you wouldn’t have gone far, so I drove around until I spotted your truck,” he admitted, gaze flitting down to the floor. More silence followed, the atmosphere thickening as the seconds ticked by.

“Dean,” my voice was small as my anxiety spiked again, the question ready to spill from my mouth though no matter what he said, I knew I wasn’t ready for the answer. “Why are you here? What do you want from me? You say you want to talk, but you’re the one who ended everything. You ended our decades-long relationship out of fucking nowhere. What could there possibly be to talk about anymore. It’s been four years.” My voice trembled and he clenched his teeth, looking away from me before setting his eyes back to the floor. He dragged his gaze back up to mine, and something burned deep in those evergreen irises that took my breath away. Yet he remained silent.

“You crushed me when out of nowhere you said we were over - that we had no future. That you couldn't imagine growing old with me, like we'd always talked about. You have no idea how much you broke my fucking heart, and then you just expected me to live alongside you in the bunker like nothing was wrong? In my own room, far away from you? Why did you think that I would be ok with that?” I felt the familiar drip of hot tears and they flooded down my cheeks and rolled off my chin, the dam I’d fought so hard to contain now bursting wide with vengeance.

“You think I wanted you to leave?” Dean spoke up finally, his voice deep and gravelly, like it always was when he was upset. “You don’t think that telling you that everything was over wasn’t the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do? That I was happy watching you pack your bags and walk out without so much as a goodbye?”

“You didn’t love me, Dean, so why would you have cared? You obviously didn’t love me the way that I loved you.”

He flinched, but took a step closer. 

“You think this is because I stopped loving you? (Y/n)... it wasn’t safe- you weren’t safe in the bunker. You weren’t safe with me…” his expression turned to one of pain as his brows pinched and his eyes glistened. He took a deep breath. “I thought maybe if you just stayed in the bunker with little to no association with me, then it would be ok. I mean, I'd still get to see you, talk to you. Be in your fucking presence. I never expected you to- to…” he took another deep breath, his lungs almost stuttering. “I didn’t think you would leave.”

He never took his eyes off mine. I saw the years of hurt and heartbreak intertwine with glimmers of green and gold, the emotions I always knew he’d struggled to cope with were swimming in a pool of desperation and fear. On the outside, Dean Winchester was the strongest there was. He was an undefeated and undisputed leader of men. He was the King of hunters. The Alpha. The man who could make you wish you were dead. Yet here he was, wearing every vulnerable emotion on his sleeve as he stood before me with anxious breaths and fearful eyes. The sight made my heart break all over again.

“Dean,” his name was like a quiet prayer as he moved closer again, “I don’t think you understand…”

“Understand what, sweetheart?” the rasp in his voice pebbled goosebumps on my skin, and when he reached for a lock of my hair to twirl around his finger, I had to fight off every instinct to just throw myself into his arms and bury my face in his chest. His familiar scent floated through the air and wrapped itself around my senses, and when I breathed him in the aroma of old leather and gunpowder went straight to my brain like a hit of cocaine. The pleasant hum from my chest was involuntary. 

“I don’t think you understand that… that…” I sighed a woeful breath, looking up at him and seeing nothing but a warm, expectant gaze.

“That I’m still in love with you.”

The finger Dean had looped around my hair froze in place and I heard him suck in a breath, his lips parting. He remained unmoving, as though every thought racing through his mind had taken precedence over his body. It was a moment before he blinked, coming back down to Earth. When he looked down at me, all of the desperation, hurt and heartbreak dissipated from his eyes and in their place was the blazing heat of hope, accentuated by a small upturned twitch of his lips.

“You do?” 

“Yes.”

“You’re not fucking with me?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Before I could react Dean had scooped me into his arms and crashed his mouth onto mine. The urge to push him away and tell him to get the fuck out bubbled up inside me, however when his familiar taste graced my tongue, a taste that was home, every desire for him to leave evaporated. The years of being apart, of being unable to touch him had made every caress electric, no matter how feather-light. My hands had tangled in his shirt as he pressed his mouth harder onto mine, pulling him crushingly close. His embrace was almost suffocating before he gently slid his hands up and threaded his rough fingers through my hair, and I lifted my own hands to do the same. I took my time with the motion, reminding myself of what he felt like - not that the memory of him ever truly left. I remembered how the muscles across his stomach and chest felt hard beneath a soft layer of skin. I remembered the way they quivered at my touch, and how my touch always pulled soft moans from his lips. My hands crept up to take hold of his face, the familiar feeling of his rough stubble beneath my fingertips ever present, a reminder of how that rough stubble felt when it tauntingly brushed against other parts of my body. I cupped his cheeks, feeling my own tears dampen his skin. He kissed me in a way that said I’m sorry, a kiss that held four years of pent up emotions with a desire to be released. A kiss that I knew was designed specifically for me. Our breaths and lips became frantic, the pace in which we were now devouring each other was still not enough to soothe the wounds in our hearts that were so desperate to be healed. Dean pulled away and held my face in his hands, running his rough thumbs over the soft skin under my eyes to wipe away the tears.

“I miss you, so fucking much,” his voice was low, his words for my ears only - not that anyone else was listening.

“I miss you too,” I sniffled, resting my palms on his chest again and relishing in the heat seeping through his shirt.

He leant down and rested his forehead against mine, taking a deep breath with his eyes closed. The atmosphere shifted however when he dipped down lower and pressed a hot kiss to my cheek, then to my ear, and then to my neck - each press of his lips drawing a shiver from my spine. I gasped when he nibbled my pulse point gently and my hands flew to grasp the short strands of hair at the back of his neck, my nails dragging over his scalp. He groaned against me at the sensation, one large hand moving to grip my hair at its roots whilst the other slid to my hip - squeezing the soft flesh. A moan of his name slipped past my lips and it was like a switch was flipped as he pulled away suddenly. He turned to take a few steps across the room, attempting to put some distance between us. I stood, baffled for a moment, but when he turned back to me and his vibrant eyes were now black with lust, I almost knew what he was going to say.

“Do you really want to go there sweetheart? Do you think you’ll be able to handle it?” he started making slow strides back towards me and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. 

“Yes,” my voice was more breathy than I’d anticipated.

“No regrets?” he was almost within reach again.

“No regrets.”

When his hands landed on my waist again, his frenzied kisses on my lips, I was expecting to be able to ravage him equally; but when he lifted me and threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing I let out a shocked yelp. 

“Dean!”

He chuckled, the sound low in his chest as he strode over to the bed and threw me down, the impact on the mattress knocking a breath out of me.

“I’ve not been able to fuck you sensless for four years, there ain’t no way I’m going easy on you tonight sweetheart.” I propped myself up on my elbows and watched as he tore his top from his body. I barely got a glimpse of his rugged physique that I’d so terribly missed before he all but pounced, trapping me beneath him. My hands immediately clung to the tight muscles of his back, my nails digging in and drawing a hiss from his clenched teeth before his mouth pressed to my neck right below my ear.

“Do you remember how you used to scream my name?”

I nodded.

“I’m going to make you scream much, much, louder than you ever have before. I’m going to make all past encounters feel like a warm up compared to what I’m gonna do to you tonight.” I shivered at his words as his hot breath fanned over my skin. His hands were fast, desperately tugging on my pyjama pants to slip one inside the soft fabric, not bothering to remove them entirely. There was an urgency to his movements like nothing I’d ever seen, the air leaving my lungs on a gasping moan when his fingers grazed my underwear. He chuckled slightly, pressing a series of searing kisses down my neck to my collar bone. 

“Well, aren't you sensitive? How long has it been, darlin’? Since someone else touched you - since someone else made you cum?” The heat rose to my already flushing cheeks at his words and I tried to cover my face with the back of my hand. My attempts to hide were futile as his long fingers wrapped around my wrist and he pinned my arm above my head. 

“Well?” he pressed, a smirk on his lips.

“Four years,” I all but squeaked. He thought for a moment before his smirk evolved into a widespread grin. “Don't let it go to your head, Winchester,” I did my best to bite out my words yet my voice trembled with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. My head rolled into the quilt and my back arched when he pushed his finger against my clit through my underwear a second time, this time harder, more purposeful. His own breath was shuddering as he continued to plant hot kisses against my skin, the slight dampness from his lips cooling quickly when he pulled back to sit on his knees. My heart didn't know if it wanted to stop dead in my chest or palpitate itself into oblivion when he looked down at me. Dean eminated a dark, primal hunger, glazing his eyes with lust as he gnawed his bottom lip. There wasn't a part of me that he hadn't seen before, and despite my current lack of nakedness it was as if I wasn't wearing anything at all. He made a noise in his chest that seemed to roll up his throat, like a growl of approval as I lay like prey beneath him. Dean may be older now, but he was bigger. Broader. Larger. The years of saving the world and fighting every abomination in his path had forced him to bulk up most exquisitely. With my free hand I traced over the scars adorning his shoulders, chest and abdomen: some old and silver, some newer and pink. There were even a fresh few, still scabbed over, and he shivered at every gentle touch. His gaze, however, was unrelenting. Without uttering a word he yanked my pyjama bottoms from my legs and tossed them into the depths of the room, immediately doing the same with my underwear. Instinctively I attempted to pull my knees together despite him being planted between them and he laughed softly, dragging his dark eyes over my slightly squirming body. He clutched my hand that was touching his chest and pinned it with my other one above my head, leaning down to lift the hem of my t-shirt, to gather above my breasts with his teeth. A shiver tore through me as his hot breath dusted the soft skin of my stomach and ribs, perking my nipples instantly.

“I think your body missed me sweetheart.”

“Definitely not just my body,” I panted. He breathed over my lips for a moment, every possibility of tonight's endeavours flashing before his eyes before he dipped his head to kiss me. His mouth moved slightly slower this time, like he was desperately trying to control the beast inside and make every moment count. To make every moment memorable.

“Do you remember Oasis Plains, Oklahoma? With that fancy house we borrowed?” His voice dropped an octave, eyes hooded as he recalled the memory.

“Yes,” I practically clenched, remembering the late night escapades from all those years ago. In my mind it was like yesterday - the way his lips felt on my skin, how his strong fingers bruised my thighs, and how he brought me to total completion no less than three times. His lips twitched up as he slid down my body and off the edge of the bed to kneel on the floor. He roughly gripped my thighs and threw them over his shoulders before slowly, tantalisingly sliding his hands up the supple flesh to grasp my ass and pull my whole body towards him.

“I’m gonna make you lose your fucking mind, just like you did back then. Maybe I'll even beat that record.”

My eyes could've disappeared inside my skull with how far they rolled back, his mouth's quick descent over my most intimate area - a soft kiss placed just above my clit - had me gasping in anticipation. Without a second to gather my thoughts he pressed his next kiss to that bundle of nerves; the wet heat of his mouth sending a pulse after pulse of fire through my veins as I twitched at his touch. He was an expert. Every flick of his tongue was practised and calculated, knowing which way to swirl, to caress, and how much pressure to apply. It was only a matter of minutes before my hands plunged into his hair and I grasped desperately at the soft strands, feeling that tidal wave build, and build, and build before he daringly grazed his teeth over my clit and it sent the wave crashing down around me, my body arching off the soft mattress as I came undone in his arms at the mercy of his mouth. 

“F-FUCK- Dean-”

My limbs twitched as they relaxed on the come-down, Deans tongue softly tracing up and down my opening. Without pulling away, he spoke in a husky tone:

“Fuck, sweetheart. You have no idea how many times I've reminisced about you moaning my name like that.”

The breath from his words made me shiver, and I moved to prop myself up on my elbows. 

“Ready for round two?” His voice remained low, not waiting for my inevitable confirmation before slowly dipping a finger into my still-clenching walls. The moan that slipped past my lips pulled a groan from Dean, a second finger joining the first as they curled up to push against the soft cushion hidden in the depths of my core. He knew where to find it with zero hesitation - his fingers seemingly acting on muscle memory as he beckoned another orgasm from me. He coaxed it forward, my inner nerves dangerously sensitive as the pleasure began to pool for a second time. With every motion of his finger, again and again, I started to feel the coil twist. I was in two minds on whether to be mortified by how easily he could pull a climax from my very soul, or impressed by it. Either way, he had me teetering on the edge a second time before a single flick of his tongue snapped the coil and euphoria claimed me once more.

His name merged with the endless moans spilling from my mouth, my hazy brain struggling to differentiate the two.

“Shit, you taste so good baby. I could devour you all night.”

“I wouldn't stop you.”

He grinned.

“As much as I would love to indulge you, I need to fuck you. Now.”

He pushed on the backs of my thighs, urging me to centre myself on the bed before he climbed back over me. I could feel myself salivating at the sight of his broad shoulders flexing under his weight, his skin damp with sweat from being trapped beneath my thighs.

He leant down to capture my mouth again, a kiss fueled with raw, carnal desire as he struggled to hold himself back. He shuddered under my fingertips as I trailed them down his torso to his belt, hastily unfastening the buckle and top button of his jeans. It was a joint effort to push them off his hips and down his thighs, but that's as far as they went. The feral need to be inside me had consumed him, and I'd barely withdrawn my hands from between us when he lined up and buried himself to the hilt. 

The burn and stretch was immediate - knocking the air from my lungs as I clutched his solid biceps like a lifeline, my nails indenting his scarred skin. He had the common decency to stay still for around ten seconds before his self restraint diminished yet again and he withdrew slowly. I could feel the divine ridges on his length through the immense build up of my slick and his spit, and as he eased back in he dropped his head into the crook of my neck with a gasp and a groan. A large, rough palm glided down my thigh, goosebumps in its wake as he grasped beneath my knee to rest my leg on his hip. Another moan filled the air between us at the new angle, the top of his cock kissing the soft, sensitive cushion inside. His mouth was hot on my neck as his hips found a rhythm against mine - a rhythm that gradually increased in speed with the intense pleasure unrelenting on my over-sensitive insides. My next impending climax swiftly appearing on the horizon.

“Dean,” I pleaded, my eyes cracking open to look up at him through welling tears, “I'm getting close again-”

He lifted his head, that play-boy grin finding his lips as he saw the mess I'd become at his touch; the mascara-stained tear tracks smudging on my cheeks and the unruly sex-hair was always a good sign of a good time.

“I need you to let go sweetheart - cum for me. Please…”

His words were the cherry on the cake for my undoing yet again and I felt my whole body explode with pleasure and tense up around him. The third orgasm of the night had my vision blurring when he cursed under his breath at my contracting walls, yet he didn't let up. He fucked me through the mind blowing bliss, not letting me catch my breath as a fourth climax hit me out of nowhere, the torturous attack on my g-spot making me feel close to blacking out.

“F-FUCK- Dean- Please- I can't,” my voice was hoarse from the moans and ragged breaths ripping from my throat every other second and my whole body trembled, slick with sweat from both myself and Dean. Despite the death grip I had on Deans cock, every involuntary clench making my knees twitch, he still wasn't finished. His powerful thrusts stuttered slightly before he pulled out, causing me to suck a breath through my teeth. Before I had a chance to query his actions he flipped me with ease, landing me flat on my stomach, my face buried in the soft quilt. Much like before, he didn't wait for an invitation to push back in, the overstimulated nerves in my core sending a jolt through every aching muscle in my body. The deeper angle pulled a cry from my lips when he bottomed out, and if I didn't know any better I would've said that his cock was in my ribcage. Deans large, warm hands took up residence on the supply flesh around my hips, tugging them up so my ass was in the air.

“Shit, (Y/n), with a view like this I'm not gonna last much longer- fuck,” Deans words were strained as he picked up the pace again, albeit this time there was an urgency to his movements. A desperate desire to experience the same Earth shattering euphoria that he had hand delivered to me. With my face in the fabric I snuck a hand down between my legs, finding the pleasure of circling my clit both a relief and an amplifier for the scorching pleasure Dean was inflicting. It didn't take long for him to tear my hand away, only to replace it with his own - pulling noises from my lips that were a whole new calibre of erotic that I didn't know I was capable of. My moans had an effect on Dean, and the hand that was on my hip, that was kneading my soft skin with a bruising grip had shot forwards and planted beside my head, bracing his weight above me. I couldn't see him but I could feel his solid chest against my back, his head dipping down to place rough kisses against my shoulder, his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there. I prepared myself for the bruises I'd find on my body in the morning - his firm hold on me would have been almost painful given any other situation. That's not to forget the biting and sucking he was now subjecting my neck and shoulder blades to - the sensation setting my skin ablaze. Deans strained breaths were a tell for his own impending end, with his hips losing their strong rhythm as he panted out laboriously. The sound of him on the verge of bliss, accompanied by every other agonising ministration performed on my body had me unravelling one last time; one hand fisting the sheets whilst the other reached back, my nails brushing over Deans scalp and toying with his short, soft hair. The fluttering of my channel around his cock was all it took to bring him to his long awaited fervid finish. I trembled beneath him as he groaned into my ear, the sound something primal, something almost unhinged. We remained still for a moment, waiting for the post climax clarity to come along and make us regret our decision. He pulled out slowly, earning a hiss from both of us at the loss of warmth and intimate contact. The simultaneous feeling of emptiness and relief was an odd feeling, as I know full well he’d ruined me for anyone else - no one in Heaven or Hell could compete with that. Not that I wanted them to in the first place. Every nerve ending in my lower region fizzled with overstimulation, yet I couldn't have felt more relaxed; more satiated. For the first time in a very, very, long time, I felt complete. 

Dean grabbed the towel he'd left on the back of the chair and used it to catch the evidence of our intimacy, the wetness cooling quickly on my thighs as I pushed myself to sit on my knees. I turned and looked up at him, watching as he stood beside the bed, eyeing me nervously. I raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on my lips.

“What's wrong? Regretting the whole ‘No Regrets’ thing already?” 

He shook his head.

“Do you?” His voice held a crackle that equaled his nervous expression.

I shook my head. He looked down at his clothes on the floor.

“No, although I'm getting the impression from you that this was a one time thing,” he must've heard the disappointment when I spoke, his eyes flying up to meet mine.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you're picking your shit off the floor like you're about to leave, that's why.”

“You…want me to stay? I thought-”

“Did I fucking stutter when I said I still love you, Dean? Because I do, and it's all-consuming and to be totally honest, I never want to leave your side again.” Heat bloomed across my cheeks at my sudden proclamation. Deans grip on his clothes slackened, letting it all fall back to the floor. From the look on his face it was like I'd just declared him King of the world; like a light switched on behind his eyes and a smile threatened to spread across his face.

“Yeah?” 

I fiddle with my fingers in my lap, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.

“Yeah-whoa!”

I didn't get the chance to feel bashful or embarrassed when Dean tackled me onto the bed. At first he peppered my still-damp skin with small kisses that tickled with his stubble, before placing his mouth over mine. I couldn't recall a time that he'd kissed me so softly, and accompanied by the gentle embrace of his arms with his fingers carefully threading through my hair, it was enough to bring me to tears.

“I've missed you so much,” my sniffles brought an almost relieved smile to his features as he pulled back and stroked my hair with overwhelming tenderness.

“I've missed you too, sweetheart.

So fucking much.”

----------------------------

Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @libby99hb @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx

[seresinhangmanjake]

Only His

Feyd-Rautha x Concubine!reader

Summary: A diplomat from Caladan wants to borrow you for the night. Feyd doesn't take that very well. Requested by @midnight-serendipity

Words: 2700

Notes: cursing, mentions of smut (a little), gore, blood, death, typos.

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Feyd breathed Hatred. 

He bled Hatred. 

When he killed, Hatred controlled his movements. Like a parasite in the brain, Hatred determined the thrust of his blade, how deep it sunk into an enemy’s gut, and the degree to which he twisted the weapon before pulling it from a soon-to-be lifeless body. 

He’d cultivated a bond with Hatred. There was a mutual understanding of one another, he thought. But as Feyd listens to the proposition from the man sitting his opposite, Hatred slowly becomes a stranger.

Turns out Hatred has a claiming side, a how-dare-you-look-at-what’s-mine side, and from that, Feyd realizes he never knew Hatred, not truly. Because this feeling—whatever it is—has revealed that Hatred is more potent than he initially believed.

“You want to what?” Feyd grits out through clenched teeth. 

“There’s no need to get upset,” the man chuckles; a diplomat from Caladan sent on behalf of Duke Atreides who came to Giedi Prime to reinforce treaties and trade agreements with the Baron. Others were sent from their respective planets, but he is by far much bolder than the rest when it comes to stepping out of bounds.

“I'd give you something in return,” Nolas—that’s his name. Feyd could barely care to remember—continues. “Whatever you like. I just want her for the night. Something to make the long trip here worthwhile and the trip back more bearable.”

“You think my concubine can be bought?”

“All concubines can be bought,” he says. “At the very least, borrowed.”

If so, then you are a concubine of untraditional nature. You are not shareable. You cannot be divvied up amongst the group so each may enjoy their slice; not as long as Feyd lives. And should he not live, for reasons foreseen or not, he long ago requested that your life be ended as well. That way you could be together. That way no man could ever have you. 

The thought of another’s hands on you sets fire to Feyd’s veins, threatening to burn his pale skin from the inside out. His heavy brow dips forward to darken the light hue of his irises. He stands and crosses the bridge between his seat and the one occupied by the older, pudgy man, looming over him to the point that Nolas must tilt his head back so their eyes can meet. 

“I will not be giving you mine,” Feyd growls. “Not for anything you could offer.”

Nolas huffs. “Now be reasonab–” 

Feyd fists his fingers into the collar of Nolas’s jacket, twisting tightly and yanking upward until Nolas chokes from the constricting fabric pressing into his windpipe. 

“Let me be perfectly clear,” Feyd spits, leaning forward. He opens his mouth to continue, but just as his next words are ready to leap from his tongue, something odd takes root in Nolas’s vile eyes. Odd, because it is not fear.

The bulk of Feyd’s skills lies in his ability to incite fear, whether through words, or battle, or presence, and with the exception of his uncle, fear has successfully struck the core of any soul who has crossed his path. Civilians, servants, his brother, his mother, even you have not been spared, but the man in his grasp is not cowering. He is not trembling. He is not soaking in the vulnerability of the position he is in where Feyd could snap his neck in a half-second. Instead, he holds the spearing gaze of the youngest Harkonnen. Matches it, even.

Feyd sinks his teeth into his boiling rage and forces it to overpower the shock that has slipped in. “You will not get within fifty feet of her. You talk to her, you surrender your tongue. You touch her, you lose a finger. You look at her, I’ll take an eye and it can sit alongside the rest of my trophies.”

A smirk touches Nolas’s face, practically undetectable before it is gone, and suddenly Feyd feels it. That loss of control. He feels Nolas penetrate his skull and weave spindly tendrils through his brain, poking and prodding for Feyd’s secrets. And then there’s a moment; a moment when Feyd nearly stumbles—the moment Nolas latches on to the one thing Feyd can not afford to have known by anyone other than himself. 

The smirk returns. “Of course, na-Baron,” oozes off of Nolas’s slimy tongue. “I wouldn’t dare lay a hand on the woman you love.”

With another half-twist, the collar tightens, blocking the blood from leaving Nolas’s face. He’s cherry red—or at least what Feyd imagines is cherry red based on your description—and he thinks with a few more turns of his fist, he could get Nolas’s head to pop right off his shoulders and tumble onto the floor. 

“What are you doing!” Rabban snaps, stomping toward the duo. He rams his hand against Feyd’s chest, but despite being forced back a step, he does not release the diplomat. He does not blink, fingers transmuting to steel as Rabban works to pry them open. “Uncle wants him alive for tonight!”

Feyd doesn’t care about tonight. He doesn’t care for some party announcing his uncle’s plans for the future. He does not care that this man, this worm, is considered a vital messenger. Send a fucking letter. 

Rabban whips out a small blade and slashes downward, nicking Feyd’s knuckles. It stings but livens the rush of his blood. His heart pounds harder, teeth gritting and cracking. 

“Feyd!”

Nolas’s eyes begin to redden, threadlike veins almost glowing. No air exits his nostrils and just as he finally wraps his hands around Feyd’s wrist, yanking and jerking to free himself, the tension in the fabric snaps. 

Nolas gasps for air, falling forward and revealing the clean slice down the back of his jacket collar. Feyd’s head turns to Rabban’s disgusted glare. 

His brother sheathes his knife. “You’d defy our uncle’s orders?”

Feyd glances back at Nolas, who has yet to recover, before spinning on his heel and leaving.

—

“Are you embarrassed of me?” you ask, your attention focused on the precise wrapping of bandage tape around Feyd’s knuckles as you sit beside him on the bed. “Is that why you don’t want me to go tonight?”

“Yes,” Feyd grumbles. No, his mind snaps back at him, and he huffs. 

Your arrival on Giedi Prime birthed a conscience within him—a conscience that exists solely for your sake—and because he often fucks up when it comes to you and your feelings, it never shuts up. You’re hurting her. Look at her. Do you not see that devastation? He does, and little pinpricks nip at the organ in his chest. 

You lightly nod as you mutter a pathetic, “Oh.”

With a hefty sigh, Feyd says, “It’s for your protection.” There! Better!

Fingers pause their work and your head shoots up to meet his eyes, a small smile curving your lips. 

“Oh,” you repeat. There’s a hint of excitement in your tone, a glint in your bright irises that causes Feyd’s cheeks to warm. 

You rip the used tape from the rest of the roll and set it aside, and then that smile disappears. “Wait, protection from what?”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re safe if you’re not there tonight.”

You hum, and from that hum alone, Feyd knows exactly what’s running through your mind. 

“And my safety is very important to you, is it?” you ask, lifting the skirts of your dress so it doesn’t catch under your knees as you move to straddle his hips. 

Feyd rolls his eyes. His hands settle on your waist. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he mildly scolds. 

You lean into his body until he falls back onto the mattress, your chest pressed to his chest, your face hovering above his. 

“I don’t know,” you tease as your fingertip skims over his bottom lip. “I’m starting to think you might like me more than you let on.”

“Think what you want,” he says, turning his head to the side and severing the taut band connecting your gazes. 

You chuckle and grip his chin, demanding he look at you again. “Fine, I will,” you whisper before inching your lips closer until they ghost over his. “I think you like me.”

You give him another feather-dusting of a kiss but it’s not enough. Never enough. Feyd growls, burying his hand into the strands of your hair to hold your head still so he can claim your lips in the devouring manner he desires. 

When you moan, he wraps his arm snuggly around your waist. When you suck on his tongue, his cock flinches in his pants and he involuntarily thrusts upward between your spread legs. 

Your responsive yelp is a drug. Addicting. So different from the yelps he expected to receive from you after he’d chosen you as his concubine. He’d gone into the situation wanting any noise your delicate throat could make to be a product of the pain he intended to inflict upon you, but when he’d taken you that first night, that yelp was of pleasure. He’d hit a particularly sweet spot inside of you and was instantly overcome with a desperate need to hear it again and again and again. 

You pull your lips apart from his. Your gentle pants fan his face. He brushes your loose locks behind your ear. 

“Promise me you’ll stay in the room,” he says. 

“I promise.”

—

He’s gone. Feyd took his eyes off the bastard for one second, and now he’s gone. It’s not as if Nolas will be capable of finding you—he’s not familiar with the fortress’s layout enough to know which room you’re in and you swore you wouldn’t so much as peek through a crack in the door—but still, a sense of dread stiffens Feyd’s limbs. Nolas has no reason to be outside of this room. He has no reason to be doing anything but drinking his fill and mingling with the others of his station. And yet…

“Did you hear me, brother?” Rabban’s voice intrudes upon Feyd’s third scan of the room. He’s not here. He’s not fucking here. 

“Brother–”

“No,” Feyd snaps before descending the short staircase. 

He snakes through the crowd toward the main doors of the vast room. They’re wide, tall, loud when opened and closed, and it’s impossible Nolas could’ve snuck out without Feyd’s notice. 

“Where’s the Caladanian?” Feyd demands of the guards posted on either side of the door. 

“No one has attempted to leave, my Lord,” one says. 

Feyd’s brow pinches. The only remaining exit is a side door specifically designed to blend with the wall. The fortress is speckled with similar doors, all of which connect to an inner walkway that servants and guards use to get around the massive structure quickly when needed. 

“Come with me,” Feyd instructs, receiving a curt nod in return. 

Feyd’s body traces the wall until he reaches the door. He pushes it open and slips inside, the guard on his heels. The noise of the room fades with every step down the corridor and at each new unexpected sound, his head cocks, his ear reaching for the source. 

Then he hears it. 

“Your na-Baron offered you to me,” travels through the wall separating him from the paralleling hallway.

And then your sweet voice. “Offered? N-No, Feyd wouldn’t.”

You’re right there, right on the other side of the thin barrier, but he can’t reach you. You’re trying to remain calm but you’re scared, Feyd knows it, and as he starts to rush to the next closest door, he begs that you keep the bastard at bay just a little longer. 

Once he shoves through the door into the hall, your voice comes in much clearer, but all sight of you is blocked by Nolas’s breadth and height. 

“He wouldn’t give me away,” you say. 

Nolas chuckles. “He hasn’t, sweetheart. I’m simply borrowing you for a little.”

“That’s not—hey, don’t touch me!”

Feyd bursts into the embodiment of fury. Everything goes red. He feels red; he sees red; he tastes and smells and hears red. His vision pulses to his heartbeat’s rhythm. He craves the death of his enemy. To have blood coat his tastebuds. To absorb the scent of freshly drawn iron. 

Feyd’s ears pound with pressure and he worries it will muffle the beautiful screams of his victim, but to his great pleasure, as his blade is stuffed into a meaty back, the screams come in loud and clear in perfectly pitched notes that echo down the hall.

The body collapses, knees slamming into stone flooring.

“Feyd,” you whimper. 

“I told you to stay in our room,” he says lowly, not sparing you a glance as his knife momentarily leaves the body to reenter at the spot where neck meets shoulder. Blood sputters from lips, adorning your dress with a sprinkling of rubies.

“One of the servants said you needed me and I–”

“Take her back,” Feyd orders his guard. “Now.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Feyd!” you cry, tripping over your skirt as you struggle to keep pace with the guard dragging you around the corner. 

It’s better this way. If you’re gone, he can give his undivided attention to the paling body and the scarlet puddle spreading beneath it. 

“You don’t listen,” Feyd says, coming to the front of his victim who is impressively still sitting upright. 

There’s a whimper, another lovely song before Feyd pries open the mouth, digs between a row of teeth, and pinches the tongue with two fingers. He pulls it as far as it can be pulled and then lops it clean off with his knife. It lands on the floor with a wet slap. The fingers follow—all ten—amputated from now lifeless hands. And then the eyes, plucked free from the skull with ease. One of them rolls a fair distance after being tossed aside. The other he keeps.

Feyd steps back to stare upon death at its purest; a flawless display of cause and effect, of crime and punishment. 

“I told you what would happen,” he says. 

He doesn’t get a response. 

—

It’s late when Feyd returns to you. He spent the last few hours explaining his role in the ending of a diplomat’s life. He was careful with his words. He had to be. If his uncle knew he killed in defense of his concubine, it would introduce a plethora of complications. No one can know just how far he would go for his woman lest he put you further at risk and open himself up to manipulation. And he can’t have that. 

Feyd expels a relieved sigh at finding you tucked under the sheets. You’re on your side, a palm between your cheek and the pillow. 

He moves to take a seat on the edge of the mattress. As he runs his hand over your hair, your eyes open. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, and you nod. 

“A servant came to the room, said you needed me,” you tell him. “I was led to that man instead of you. I wasn’t trying to go against what you asked of me.”

“I know,” Feyd says. “The servant was paid. Someone witnessed the exchange.” He watches a flash of shock and pain travel across your irises. “He’s dead now. They both are.”

You swallow, biting into your lip as your eyes and mind briefly drift elsewhere. Feyd waits for you to come back, and once you do, you look up at him and nod in acceptance. 

“Will you come to bed now?” you ask. “Please? I can't sleep without you.”

“You were asleep when I came in.” Your head shakes. 

In all fairness, you haven't spent a single night apart since he got you, and he doesn’t view it as clinginess—it’s more his decision than yours—but rather an expression of how much you want him near. And he likes being wanted. It’s different. Foreign. Nice. The both of you need it. Tonight, perhaps, more than ever.

Feyd stands and peels off his layers of clothes, then goes to the other side of the bed to slide under the covers. You flip over, nestling yourself against him and resting your head on his bicep.

“I thought you didn't want me anymore,” you whisper. “I thought–”

---

“Don't think,” he says. “You're mine; you know that.” He presses a kiss to your hairline. “I don't share you.”

And may fate have mercy on anyone who suggests otherwise.

Tag List (if you wanna join)

[leclerc-hs]

marked - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: a request from anon ‘Charles marking you as his’ Warnings: smut, choking, language, 18+ Word Count: 546 Author’s Note: I apologize for it being short!!!! I think I want to attempt to write a short series maybe. Any ideas on what it should be about? ALSO HAPPY FERRARI LOCKOUT DAY. I am praying we can stay on podium today lmaooo French edits made by @shewantsvengeance!!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

IF YOU HAD to ask anybody, they would tell you that Charles was a rather generous being. He was always willing to provide help to someone in need. When your friend’s house had a gas leak, he provided her a space to crash for the time being. Whenever somebody needed a ride, he was the person to call. If you forgot your wallet, don’t worry he already covered it anyways.

So, when your apartment was deemed unlivable due to remodeling, he promptly extended a warm welcoming haven for you to find solace in.

The dynamic between you and Charles was a peculiar one, not yet falling into the category of an official couple yet possessing an unmistakable intensity. It was as if a protective aura enveloped the two of you; anyone daring to cast even a fleeting thought in your direction was met with a foreboding presence. Regardless of the official label, you were his. He was yours.

Which is how you found yourself here. In this present moment. With Charles hand gripped around your neck as you straddled him on the couch.

“Fuck,” he grunted as you hastily worked yourself over his cock. The deep groan he elicited had your lip quivering. His hands grasped onto your hips tightly, guiding you. “Gonna take it all, huh?”

“Gonna be a good cumslut for me, princesse?” He wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

“Shut up and make me cum already,” you couldn’t help but bite back. He possessed a remarkable talent for teasing, edging you for what has felt like hours. It was torment, pushing you to the threshold of your orgasm but then denying it before you could jump over the edge.

“Feisty, hm?” his hands slipped back up to your neck, squeezing hard. “Don’t be a brat.”

Tiny beads of sweat started to form on the edge of his eyebrow, the veins of his neck visible. You wished you could take a picture.

You felt your hips start to lose rhythm as your legs grew weaker. You are a whimpering wet mess. “Can’t even ride me properly,” a smirk formed on his lips.

“Please, Cha,” you begged, currently on the verge of having a break down from the frustration. “I need-“

“Need me to fuck you? Can’t get yourself off alone baby? So useless.” He was laughing. It made your pussy clench harder. You didn’t even have to respond before Charles was flipping you under him on the couch. Your hands immediately grasping onto the back of the couch for support as he fucked you from behind.

He leaned forward, his body arched over yours, his lips found a place on your neck. With a deliberate intention, he sucked hard. No doubt leaving a dark purple like bruise on the cusp of your neck and jaw. Claiming you.

The mixture of his fervent sucking with the drilling of his hips was more than enough to send you teetering over the edge this time. His, right behind you. You were screaming, tears escaping your eyes as you felt yourself squeezing all around his cock.

You were both out of breath. Collapsed on one another on the couch. Completely ruined, that’s how you felt. The giant reddish purple on your neck was sore, Charles finger tracing it with a smile.

“Everyone will know you’re mine now.”

[dreamy-diva]

Pov: Your gentleman yet jealous husband, Nanami Kento...

Tags: fem! reader, Nanami x you, handcuffs, nippleplay, unprotected, smut, jealous, angry sex

It's been months since you married him, he takes care of you, gives you gentle kisses, buys you everything you want , such a gentleman but one thing that makes him lose his cool is seeing you talking about another guy.

You are gushing about your new celebrity crush, how he is so perfect, and also forcing your husband to watch all his movies.

"If he wants me on my knees, I would literally be on my knees" , you said without realising what you said in front of your husband, you peeked at your side to look at him and he is already looking at you with one eyebrow raised.

"Umm ...I did not mean tha--" , your voice interrupted by him "then what do you mean by that , wifey", he lifts you with one hand over his shoulder and throws you on the bed.

"Strip" , only one word and that makes your knees weak , you did what he ordered "Lay down both hands above your head", he ordered with a serious look. He opened the drawer to take out handcuffs , your eyes widened what handcuffs are doing in his drawer. "Now we'll see who is in charge here , baby" , he cuffed your hands. Eyeing your naked body up and down "Spread your legs I want to see your pretty little cunt, how much you have wet yourself" , he is only in his boxers.

He hovered above you , his hands roaming around your nipple , pinching them , making you gasp "Now see how shamelessly lying under me, you like it like this huh", positioning himself between your legs, sucking your nipple, giving both your nipples equal attention , massaging ,licking, nibbling all over your boobs making you squirm out of pleasure "ohh baby your nipples I can suck them forever" , his other hand sliding against your wet pussy

"So wet for me , huh" , he kissed you intensely like he is eating your mouth out , tongue exploring your mouth, so sync with you. You are grinding against his finger which is teasing you .

"Please Kento , hngh.....please"

"Please what", his fingers slipping inside but not that inside where you wanted ,making you frustrated.

"Please fuck me already , fuck me senselessly , fuck me".

"With honour", he revealed his hard, long thick cock , veins popping, making you gasp for air.

"Like what you see ?" , he smirked , putting your legs over his shoulders , teasing your pussy with his tip , making you groan.

He thrust inside your pussy in one go hitting the walls , making you scream his name "Yes , good girl, scream for my name , baby, hngh..fuck you feel so good" , thrusting in and out , fast then sloppy, smacking your boob with his free hand knowing it will leave marks

"Who do you belong , huh ..hngh" smack, "tell me" , smack. "You , I belong to you , my husband , Kento ..hngh..hngh..", moaning, gasping, screaming his name.

"You are my wife thrust understood thrust, fucking mine thrust ", he was going fast and rough , making your eyes roll , making you feel so good , go good to be on his mercy , you wanted this, "I'm gonna cum, Kento, hngh...hngh..". "Yes good cum for me ,let's cum together, okay" , he goes fast , making you lose control.

At last , you both cum together, glowing with pleasure. He opened your cuffs , kissing your bruised wrist

"You okay, ? " , he asked placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Yes , I'm okay, I didn't know you have handcuffs"

"Umm well , yes I have", he snuggled around you.

"Next time you will be in handcuffs and I will be in control", you said in a challenging way.

"Yes ma'am, whatever you want"

[gyusimp]

°•Lord Muzan feels tired after work

⚠️ WARNINGS: NSFW | Smut content | Fem reader | Fingering | Semi-oral | Minors DNI!

Finally the one-shot I promised! I changed the initial idea so I basically rewrote the whole thing again because of a dream I had and it gave me all the inspiration I needed lmao it even gave me an idea for another longer fic with Muzan. I ended up doing it in the canon Taisho Era so enjoy!

Art credits for the creator (not mine)

It wasn't physical fatigue that he felt, after all, the progenitor of demons was tireless. He was rather fed up. Fed up with his employees, his servants, humans in general and how exhausting it was to be the only perfect and intelligent creature among them. His day had been full of problems today.

The current role he had was that of a young and rich businessman, owner of a company importing foreign products whom he murdered in order to carry out his plans and continue increasing his fortune. He forged a few papers, impersonated some people and murdered others and so the company was his now but that included all his stupid and useless employees. He was so fed up with damn humans, sometimes he avoided dismissals, it depends on their mood and how efficient they were at some point then Muzan fired them, otherwise he just called them to his office simply to kill them.

Then a few months later he met you, a young and beautiful woman in the business world with a company dedicated to natural medicine and importing medicinal plants. You were an essential piece in his plan to conquer the sun. He married you when he had the chance to but you eventually found out that he wasn't human. How come you were still alive then? You discovered it on your own, you didn't make a fuss or try to run away from him, you simply let him know that you already knew through small clues or ways of acting, like you were in charge of closing all the curtains in the house during the day but you didn't ask the servants to do it for you. Your loyalty to him remained despite knowing what he was and that was not lost on Muzan.

One night, he told you what this was all about, if you hadn't left despite knowing his condition then you had to stay alive. Muzan gave you the choice if you wanted to become a demon or not but whatever your answer was, you had to serve him for your entire life. The fact of being immortal did not tempt your human weakness but you told him that by having the ability to walk under the sun, you could be his eyes in the light of day and help him do different things so you both ended up accepting. You were legally his wife, so in front of everyone Muzan treated you as such although there were times in private where he was still a little soft on you, plus, he is an attractive looking man which led you to feel some things more for him , taking on mind his demonic nature.

Today had been a terribly long day, the fatigue in Kibutsuji's body caused the veins on his forehead to stand out strongly under his skin, his red eyes appeared and his pupils turned into vertical slits like a cat's.  He took off the black trench coat he was wearing and left it on the coat rack at the entrance, his fangs grew to normal size after having hidden them all day, as did his sharp blue nails, making one of his servants tremble who should have already gone home. The man next to him was observed with indifference, his skin was pale and he was sweating coldly having seen the small transformation of his master, then he remembered the stories of those man-eating creatures that the women of his town told the children.

"A monster! This man is not human!! MISS KIBUTSUJI, THERE IS A DEMON IN THE HOUSE!" the man shouted trying to alert you.

His shrill screams tried Muzan's patience and when the man turned to walk up the stairs towards you he was cut into pieces in less than 2 seconds. The reddish and thick liquid splashed Kibutsuji's face making him sigh and wipe it with a handkerchief as well as his hand, the drops dripped on the stairs and when he walked next to him he moved it with too much disgust using his foot and continuing his way towards your room upstairs.

Like a gentleman, he knocked on the door before entering and upon hearing your voice he entered the room. You hadn't heard anything but his murderous look told you that he wasn't in the best of moods so you didn't say anything. You went to the bathroom in the large room and put on a pearl-colored sleeveless sleeping dress with a matching silk robe. Just like your husband, you preferred to dress in a Western style, you left your hair down and went out. You found him sitting on the edge of the bed, with both hands together mumbling some things, noticing how stressed he was and without saying anything you knelt on the bed behind him and started massaging his shoulders. You were involved in the world of medicine since you were little, so you knew the points where stress usually accumulates. Feeling your hands exerting pleasant pressure on his body, Muzan couldn't help but tilt his head to the side and put aside everything he was thinking, he took off his tie and closed his eyes, sighing tiredly. You continued caressing his neck, shoulders and back until slowly his muscles relaxed and his veins stopped showing under his skin.

"Can i...?" You asked, bringing your hands to the collar of his shirt.

You unbuttoned the entire garment and got rid of it completely leaving his naked and well-worked torso exposed, you continued massaging his shoulders and back until he felt good enough to close his eyes and lay his head on your chest, feeling your breasts very close to him. Your hands were soft and light, with a sincere and warm touch making his thoughts go elsewhere. While you continued doing your thing, he got rid of his belt and unbuttoned his pants without you realizing it, then grabbed your wrist with some force and brought you in front of him so that you were sitting astride his lap. As soon as you sat down, he took it upon himself to stare at you and open the robe you were wearing to see your breasts under the thin fabric of the nightgown and how your nipples were beginning to stand out. He took off your robe and then grabbed the hem of your nightgown to pull it up and take it off as well. A few seconds passed, he lightly patted your thigh to make you lift your butt so he could get rid of your panties as well, leaving you completely naked under his gaze. He gently took your hand, still looking at you, and brought it up to his face to caress it against his cheek and kiss your palm elegantly.

"You are a rather attractive woman...worthy of bearing my last name." You felt so lucky when he took the time to compliment you since you knew his disdain for almost everything.

You melted at his touch, at his kisses, but an unusual sensation on the skin of your hand made you look in that direction. You saw how a mouth began to form in Muzan's palm with teeth, tongue and everything. You knew about all the changes and transformations that his body was capable of so it no longer surprised you at all since he also knew how to use those changes to your advantage. Muzan smiled at you with seductive malice and with his free hand he grabbed your waist while the hand with his mouth went straight between your legs, placing his palm just below your pussy. You couldn't help but moan and startled a little when you felt his warm breath hitting you, you felt his tongue come out from his palm and begin to suck and lick all your folds. You looked at Muzan with a huge blush as you grabbed his shoulders. While his palm was in charge of your center, he brought 2 of his fingers to your hole, making you arch your back as you felt him enter and arch his fingers inside you. Both sensations made you begin to moan his name and move your hips on him to increase your own pleasure as he hardened dangerously beneath you. His entire mouth sucked on your pussy, playing with it with his teeth and pressing your clit against his tongue over and over again as he moved his fingers and the mouth on his face kissed and bit your neck and collarbones. You were starting to get very wet, the saliva and your juices between your legs making you feel very hot and slippery. Muzan's free hand took you from behind to bring you closer to him and caressed your back until it went down and reached your butt, then he went to your bust and began to knead one of your breasts between his fingers, causing you endless moans.

"Aa-aah...Muzan! Aah!" You could barely speak properly.

You rubbed your center on the palm of his hand while the mouth beneath you devoured you completely, you listened to the wet sounds that leaked beneath you and imagining the dirty scene aroused you more and more. The simple act of letting the Demon King fuck you as he pleased turned you on no matter what. Muzan was going too fast and every rub on and lick on your folds was killing you, you clung tightly to his shoulders making scratches that regenerated immediately feeling your orgasm getting closer to the point of not even being able to stay upright. Your head leaned down, leaving your left hand on his shoulder while you held on to the bed with your right as if your life depended on it, never stopping moaning or moving.

Muzan watched you from above, proud of the mess he made of you, of how he was able to lower such a prestigious and elegant lady to such a level, making her beg for more as if she were a prostitute. You were close, he knew it by the way you squeezed his fingers tighter than before and he didn't want to let this moment pass him by. Muzan grabbed your chin to make you look into his eyes.

"Look at me...you're about to cum, aren't you? I want you to look at me..."

You tried to raise your face towards him but lust was stronger than your five senses, your body was heavy with pleasure and you could barely open your eyes properly. You didn't heed his request and that might make him angry so this time he held you tighter, digging his nails into your soft flesh making your cheeks sting.

"I told you I want you to look at me when you do it...it's an order." He demanded.

You clung to his shoulders without stopping moving and he increased his speed, you squeezed him again and just when you felt yourself on the edge you looked down but forced yourself to half open your eyes and look up again just as you screamed of pleasure as you feel all your whitish and slippery discharge come out from your core, wetting all of Muzan's hand under you where his mouth did not waste a single drop.

"Your taste is very pleasant, dear. I would never get tired of it." He licked his lips.

You were shaking in his lap, sweating all over your body, and a huge blush came over you again when you looked down and saw the mess you had left in his pants. Muzan smiled evilly at you and pushed you on the bed to change places and position himself over you after having completely gotten rid of all his clothes.

Your hair was a mess on the bed, your chest rose and fell trying to normalize your breathing and you could feel your sensitive folds throbbing after such a strong euphoria. You finished having your orgasm, you were wet and slippery and Muzan wasn't going to waste that.

"It's my turn, precious."

He told you, showing you his fangs in a smile and in less than you expected he opened your legs to position himself in the middle of you, he took one of your legs behind your knee and placed it on his shoulder without letting go and then entered you with a single thrust making you moan intensely. He didn't care that you had not yet adapted to his size, he began to stretch you and move repeatedly inside you until he aroused you again. You could hear his soft moans and grunts in your ear as he moved, you took him by the shoulders again and adjusted your legs so you both felt better.

Even though this was only the second round for you you felt almost dead tired, your legs and waist were starting to hurt and you envied the way your husband wasn't even sweating. A pleasurable sensation formed inside you as you felt the crashes of each of his thrusts against your clit and the pressure you felt on it again and again causing you to stretch your toes and squeeze Muzan very tightly again. He loved feeling you that way, you drove him crazy with pleasure and you noticed how the veins appeared again on his back and arms but this time it was due to the strong arousement he was feeling. He had the nerve to lift his head from your shoulder and moan heavily as he closed his eyes and increased his speed, feeling you suck him deep.

"Fuck...you're perfect nngh, you're even better than those 12 fucking idiots." He moaned, complimenting you.

You loved pleasing your husband and even more so seeing that you were doing a good job. Knowing that you could manage to put the Demon King in such a vulnerable state turned you on more, making you eagerly wait for his orgasm and the second one on your part, but on the other hand it made you nervous. Muzan's arousal was as strong as 10 men combined every time he fucked you and his release was just as intense or even more so, so when he tilted his head back after you cum again, you felt a huge amount of his falling inside you reaching the bottom of your insides, spilling the rest between your legs until forming a whitish stain on the bed, under the two of you.

The way Muzan felt his scent permeate your flesh once again made him feel powerful, it was a way of claiming you as his because no matter how many times you showered or cleaned yourself, how many days went by without him fucking you, Muzan let his cells inside you, so that any creature that knew of his existence would also know that you belonged to him.

[eccentricallygothic]

| Denial |

Description: Jack pretends to be an old fashioned vanilla. Jack swears he only does the ‘adventurous’ for you. Jack is a natural in denial. 

Pairing: Jack Reacher | You. 

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Jack Reacher. This story contains mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact. 

Warning(s): Size kink, age gap, Daddy kink, m!Dom, f!sub, handcuffing, doggy style, extreme p-in-v, smut without plot, hair pulling, minor dacryphilia.  

Word Count: 600.

Note: Based off of the show because I haven't had the pleasure of reading the books yet. Feedback is always appreciated <3  

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“Mmnng!” Your eyes are clenched shut as you whimper into the pillow that you're facing. The handcuffs feel clammy and restrictive against your sweaty skin. You're so hot. He is so warm, his huge body draped over your back and the hard dents and bumps of his muscles digging into your tender skin. “Daddy!” A vein in your nether regions twitches and you cannot help but arch your back. 

Jack -yes, you are the only exception to the rule- groans at the name and a vein of his humongous cock thumps against your slithery velvet walls that tightly clasp the organ within them. It's a signal. He liked it.

Not that he would ever admit it.

You feel one of his calloused hands reach for your breasts before your lover manhandles your chest, the combination of the bittersweet pain of your nipples twirling around his rough fingertips along with the relentless snapping of his strong hips that can do this all night causing you to suffocate his girth with the band of your opening. 

“Just like that, pretty girl” his voice is low and gentle yet a tinge of danger lines its edges. His fingers release your nubs to wrap around the locks of your hair before he jerks your head back and closer to his mouth, other hand firmly curled around the handle that the curve of your hip and thigh has created as a result of your primal position. “You're doing so good for Daddy” the sound of your skins colliding against one another's is vile and loud in its bouncing off the walls. “Keep at it and he will give you what you need” he is so far up your pussy you can nearly feel him in your stomach. 

You bite back a curse when his cock glides past your pelvic bone in that one particular way and invades your tight walls that stubbornly retreat each time he thrusts outwards, pushing the stiff apex of his cock all the way up to the confine of your cervix, the collision of his thick, leaking tip with that of the opening of your womb causing your vision to fill with neon shapes. 

“Who does this dirty little needy pussy belong to?” Your curved out form trembles and rocks back and forth from the rough fucking. The state of your boobs is not much different and his hold on you is so dominant and yet comforting. 

“You, Daddy!” You cry out from the overwhelming pleasure. He's everywhere and you feel yourself drowning in the ocean of his being. “Only you!”

His hand leaves your hair and his face is resting on one of your shoulders within the next second. “That's right, honey” the way he pants is so hot. The manner in which you can feel him struggle with his strength against you causes for more hot arousal to go leaking down his already lubed up dick. Because he knows you won't be able to handle his complete strength without utterly destroying yourself. It's dangerous. And yet enticing. “You're all mine” your eyes close once more as your mouth falls open. His fingers have slipped between your legs and above where your sexes meet. “Daddy’s needy little cockslut.” Fuck.

He could pretend that he was an old fashioned guy who only indulged in the more adventurous domains of intimacy for you, his hot-blooded young lover, all he wanted. Because it was moments like these that proved that he was a natural regardless. 

A natural in denial.