#but maybe it could be some naughty spin off...

[burrowingdweller]

I was in funny mood

[hischokehold]

Pretty Please?

older!könig with a pretty girl who won't leave him alone.

"Hello, mister officer." Pretty doe eyes nearly melt in his, tilted up so sweetly just so you could meet his gaze. Arms locked around his, clinging so gently to his biceps like you have been for the past two weeks.

König grumbled, barely taking a glance at you and your provocative outfit, teasing him. "Back for more, little girl? What did I tell you?" He tsks, baby blues barely evading your exposed cleavage pressed up against him.

"To focus on my studies. I am. Swear I am. Aced my exams, don't I deserve a reward?" You hummed, though he found your words rather hard to believe when you were so obviously checking him out.

You've been getting bold recently, haven't you, liebling?

It all started with a simple encounter, really; with König saving your drunken state from a group of men in his local bar. The perfect damsel in distress. He had pulled you by his hip, dragging you to the nearest bench to slip your glittery high heels right back into your feet. It was one of the rare moments where the colonel wasn't in the front lines. Still, he found himself a little pastime, using his influence to do some shady deals in the city's biggest club.

He didn't exactly expect to have such a cute thing clinging to him.

After a few minutes of listening to your rambling, cooing at you, König finally called you a cab and sent you off. A nice encounter, that's all it was.

Until he found you and your little self began throwing yourself at him almost every night, practically begging for his attention. "Just wanted to thank you for last time," You pout, batting your lashes at him. "Can't I do that?"

You could still see the remnants of blues in his knuckles from beating those bastards to a pulp. His big hands pat the small of your back in a reprimanding manner, shamefully reminding you that you were smitten by a man who you met barely a week ago.

"A thank you would suffice, darling."

König stood his ground. He had morals— what little he has left anyways. You're pretty, no doubt about that. He knew he shouldn't be taking advantage of such a fragile girl. But at the end of the day, he's just a man. Surely, you knew what would happen if you provoked him too much with your womanly charms?

"Y'shouldn't be playing around with men like me, little girl." He drawls, accent thick as he lightly taps your soft cheeks. Something clicked in you at the mention of the rather degrading pet name, pupils fully blown as you nodded at his every word, unable to register anything anymore.

An "I like you." comes from your plump, glossed up lips before you could even control it. Your 100th confession this week alone. Many would call you shameless and maybe you'd feel an ounce of it if you weren't so busy eyeing up his bulging biceps through his tight-fitted polo shirt.

He's intense, you think. And he makes you painfully shy.

"Hm?" He tilts his head, and he's so handsome, and gruff, and big that he has your mind spinning around in circles and doing backflips. Soft brows furrow as brutish hands cup your cheeks, lips puckering up into a small 'o'.

The tip of his tongue swipes down his lips while he indulges in the sight. A pretty girl, a young thing looking up at him all stupid and dazed out. Begging for an older man's attention. "How naughty." He tugs you closer, puffing cigarette smoke all over your pretty face, leaving coughing from the sudden intrusion in your nostrils.

He chuckles darkly, lightly patting the small of your back. "Be a good girl and run along, ja?" He flicks his cig to the side, putting its flame out with a stomp.

"N-No! please," you breathe, manicured fingertips finding your way to his belt, slithering along the lines. His eyes never leave yours, darkening as you inch closer to his manhood, leaving you dizzied.

There's hurried chattering in the background, a scantily clad group of three wore worried expressions on their faces, calling out your name.

"Ah, your friends are here, darling." You don't even have time to respond before he's nudging you out the dark alley, sending you off your merry wya but not before giving your rear a little slap.

"And keep that backside lookin' pretty for me."

[strawhbrrries]

Starin' Problem.

pairing: dbf!no outbreak!joel miller x afab!reader

summary: a red dress and a glass of whiskey is all it took for Joel to lose every ounce of self control he once had.

warnings: porn no plot, female pronouns, age gap (both consenting adults), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, slight creep joel, daddy kink, breeding kink...,mean joel, dirty talk, praise!!!, no use of y/n or descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 1.3k words

recommended listening: granite by sleep token

authors note: i'm pretty sure I had planned for this to take place at reader's parent's wedding but i never specified so it's just some fancy event they planned lmfao, enjoy <333

“Quit starin’.” Your father whispered into Joel’s ear, following his eyes to you, his daughter, across the room. “Let's not have a problem tonight.”

“I ain’t.” Joel grunted, taking a sip of the whiskey in his hand as he continued to watch you. “We won’t have any problems.”  

He’d spent most of the night trying to decide if you’d worn any underwear under the dress, with a slit that ended right under your hip he was convinced you weren’t but then you’d turn a specific way and he swore he could make out a line. The low neckline left nothing to the imagination and only added to the torture you were putting Joel through at the hands of fashion, he never knew he could be so turned on by someone your age but here he was with a rock hard cock, staring like a creep.

“Whoever that guy with your dad is has been staring at you all night.” One of the girls you’d been standing with spoke, a hint of jealousy in her voice. 

You turned your head around, making eye contact with Joel, and looking him up and down. You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him, and the dark red suit your father had picked out to match the same red of the dresses your mom had picked out wasn’t helping at all. He looked you up and down before making eye contact with you again, taking another sip of his whiskey, and twirling a finger around. 

“Joel? He’s probably on a secret mission to keep an eye on me.” You joked, acting like you had stepped on your dress as an excuse to spin around without anyone suspecting anything. 

“He can keep an eye on me.” A different girl responded, giggling as they continued to joke about him.

He could’ve orgasmed right then and there as you spun around, the two of you hadn’t spoken all night and yet here you were entertaining him. His glass of whiskey was almost empty, if he played his cards right maybe he’d be able to get you alone, away from the annoying girls you’d been around all night. 

You watched him glance at his glass before heading off to what you assumed was the kitchen, he hadn’t made any signal for you to follow but this was your moment. 

“What would my dear father think if he knew his best friend was eyeing up his daughter?” You whispered, coming up behind Joel and dragging your nails down his back. 

“Does his dear daughter care?” Joel whispered back, setting his glass down and turning around to face you. “Seemed like you quite enjoyed it.”

He trailed a finger over the neckline of your dress, hooking it under the fabric and exposing one of your breasts. A low groan escaped his throat, accompanied by him fixing his suit pants. His fingers found your nipple, rolling and tugging it slightly. 

“Seems to me you’re enjoying it a whole bunch.” He chuckled, using his other hand to tilt your chin up, leaning down so your lips were inches apart.

“Fuck, Joel-” 

He smashed his lips against yours, swallowing every whimper escaping your lips, pulling the other side of your dress down to expose both breasts. Your hands made quick work of unbuttoning his suit jacket, pulling it off of him and throwing it on the floor, before moving to his dress shirt. 

“Naughty girl, lettin’ some old man touch you in a kitchen at your parent’s party.” He spoke against your lips, shoving your dress down to your hips and taking a step back to admire you. “God you’re fuckin’ pretty.” 

“Joel, please.” You whined, grabbing at the last few buttons left on his shirt desperately as if it was going to get them unbuttoned faster.

“I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already beggin’. Fuckin’ whore.” He chuckled, helping you unbutton his shirt and tossing it to the side with his jacket. “Need some dick, huh?” 

You shook your head, shoving the rest of the dress over your hips and onto the floor, grabbing his head and smashing your lips back together. His fingers danced their way down your skin, memorizing every bump and curve in the chance that he wouldn’t get to do this again, making their way under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter behind him. 

He trailed a finger up and down your folds, gathering your wetness and bringing it to his mouth, groaning at the taste. The sensation of his finger slowly pushing in and out was so overwhelming, you were practically floating on cloud nine and there was nothing you’d change about it.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” Joel rasped, lips pressed up against your ear, removing the rest of his clothing. “Tell daddy how bad you need it.”

“Daddy, please…fuck- need it so bad.” Your words were barely audible, desperate and whiny.

The feeling of his cock pushing inside of you had you throwing your head back, hand slapped over your mouth to muffle any and all noise he’d pull out of you. He pulled back out slowly, watching your pussy grip his cock as he pushed back in. Forbidden sex had never felt so good, he’d find any and every reason to visit you after tonight if he could experience this again. His beard scratched against your neck as he bent over, pulling your body closer to him, sucking and biting at the skin he could reach. 

“God, I could make you a fuckin’ mom.” Joel groaned, leaning his head further into the crook of your neck. “Look so fuckin’ pretty, full of my babies.”

“Daddy-”

“That’s right, say my name, baby.” He switched the arm that was bearing your weight and brought the newly freed hand to your hair, tugging it back enough so he could see your face. 

His hips pistoned in and out, cock reaching places you didn’t even know it could, but if you told him that he’d make a joke about you not sleeping with a real man like him. He placed wet kisses down your neck and all the way down to your nipples, sucking on them in turns. 

“Joel, please, I’m so close..” You cried, eyes filled to the brim with tears that threatened to spill at any moment.

“That’s too damn bad, because that’s not my name.” He chuckled, evilly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks. “Try again, I know you can do it, baby.”

“Daddy, daddy please.” 

“Good girl.” 

He brought his thumb down to your clit, drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts, coaxing your orgasm right out of you. You slumped into him as it hit you, body shaking as it made its way through you. He continued to thrust into you, chasing his own white, hot high. Your small whimpers as you came back to the world was enough to send Joel over the edge, painting your insides a nice milky white. His own body slumping into yours as he recovered from the pleasure. 

“Did such a good job, darlin’.” He praised, smoothing your hair down as you continued your way out of cloud nine. “Did so good for me.”

You gave him a weak smile, smoothing the hairs that were stuck to his sweaty forehead back to their spot. He sat you back down on the counter and filled his glass up with water before handing it to you, the aftertaste of whiskey was enough to perk you right up. 

Joel helped you back into your dress, fixing your hair to cover the hickeys that were soon to appear, sliding your underwear back up but making sure to push his cum back inside of you before sliding them all the way up.

“C’mon, we got speeches to make.”

[aspenmissing]

Hello, I hope you're doing well 💫 Could you write Arcane characters with Reader, where Reader is a little tease? Like she's whispering something naughty / dirty minded to them an casually walks away. Leaving them stunned or even flustered before they need to attend an important meeting. Thank youuu :))

ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ || 8962 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ (ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ - ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴘʀɪꜱᴇᴅ)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏᴏᴏ ᴍʏ ꜱᴛᴀʀ! ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴏʀ ᴍʏʏʏʏʏʏʏ, ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ! ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴀʟʟ ꜱᴏʀᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴀʏɪɴɢ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ! ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇɢᴀʀᴅʟᴇꜱꜱ, ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!! <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ

JAYCE

Jayce paced around his study, the weight of the upcoming council meeting heavy on his shoulders. Papers and reports lay scattered across his desk, and his mind raced with strategies, politics, and potential conflicts. As much as he detested the formality of the council, the future of Piltover was at stake, and he couldn’t afford to fail. His fingers tightened around a particularly frustrating document, the edges of it crinkling beneath his grip.

He adjusted his jacket, trying to shake the tightness in his chest, and ran a hand through his hair, attempting to calm his nerves before the meeting. The door creaked open softly, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Y/N standing in the doorway. Her smile was mischievous, her eyes glinting with a teasing, almost predatory gleam.

"You look a little tense," she purred, stepping inside with the confidence of someone who knew they had every bit of his attention. The door clicked shut behind her, a soft sound that seemed to echo in the otherwise quiet room.

Jayce sighed, trying to focus on the papers in front of him, but his gaze followed her movements as she glided closer, each step light and deliberate. The way she walked, the curve of her hips, the quiet sway of her body—it was all too distracting. He forced his eyes back to the papers, though he couldn't quite ignore the electricity that seemed to crackle in the air whenever she was near.

"I have a council meeting in an hour," Jayce muttered, though his voice lacked the usual authority. He knew the council was going to be a pain, but Y/N always had this way of throwing him off balance, especially when he needed to be focused.

Y/N stopped behind him, close enough for her presence to invade his every sense. She was just behind him now, so near he could feel the warmth of her body against his back. He couldn’t help the subtle shift in his posture, a quiet tension beginning to build in his muscles.

“Poor Jayce,” she whispered in a soft, honeyed tone. The words sent a shiver down his spine, and her breath—warm and light—tickled his ear. "I bet you'd rather be doing something... else... with me, wouldn't you?"

His body went rigid, a flicker of surprise catching him off guard. His pulse quickened, his thoughts scattering at the sultry quality of her voice. He swallowed hard, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “Y/N,” he warned, his voice low, though there was an unmistakable hitch in it. "Not now. We’re—"

But she didn’t let him finish. Her lips brushed against his ear, sending a tremor through him, as she murmured, "Maybe after the meeting, you can show me exactly how much you need me. I could make it worth your while… in every way imaginable."

Jayce’s breath caught in his throat. His heart raced, and for a moment, the room seemed to spin. He turned toward her, his mind racing to keep pace with the intensity of what she’d just said, but she was already stepping back with a playful, almost innocent grin. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“You’re terrible,” he muttered under his breath, though the flush creeping up his neck betrayed his efforts to remain composed. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, he almost forgot the weight of the council meeting, the looming decisions he needed to make. His mind was clouded with the thought of her, her words, and what she’d just put in his head.

Y/N shrugged casually, her smile never wavering, as though she hadn’t just completely unravelled him in the span of a few seconds. "I’m just trying to help you relax," she said with a wink, her voice light, as though the suggestion she’d made was the most casual thing in the world. “See you at the meeting, my love.”

She turned and walked out of the room, the soft clicking of her heels on the floor fading as she left him standing there. Jayce stood frozen for a moment, his hands gripping the edge of the desk, his mind racing. She had that power over him, always able to leave him undone with just a few words, her presence searing through him.

He inhaled deeply, forcing himself to focus. He had a council meeting to attend. But as he tried to centre himself, he couldn't help but picture her, her teasing words echoing in his mind, making it impossible to concentrate. Maybe, just maybe, he’d take her up on her offer after all.

=

A day later, Jayce and Y/N walked through the hallways of the academy, their casual conversation interrupted by the sound of Viktor’s footsteps tapping against the stone floor. His cane clicked softly with each step as he approached, and Jayce couldn’t help but glance over at Y/N. She was walking a little more carefully than usual, her movements slower, and every so often, she’d give a subtle wince. It was clear that her body was reminding her of the "fun" they'd shared the night before, and Jayce smirked at the memory.

“Something wrong?” Viktor’s voice called from behind them, his cane tapping rhythmically as he leaned on it, his curious gaze scanning Y/N's careful steps.

Y/N glanced at him, her face smoothing into her usual calm demeanor, though there was a glint in her eyes that Jayce caught. She offered Viktor a polite smile, though it seemed a little too sweet for comfort. "Oh, nothing to worry about, Viktor."

Jayce bit his lip to stifle a chuckle, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Viktor raised an eyebrow, his gaze narrowing slightly as he took in Y/N’s careful movements. “You’re walking strangely today. Did something happen? Are you injured?”

Y/N’s smile didn’t falter, but her gaze flickered over to Jayce, who now looked far too innocent, though his lips twitched with barely contained amusement. She took a deep breath, adjusting herself slightly as she casually glanced back at Viktor. "No, no injury. Just… a little tired from last night."

Viktor’s cane clicked once on the floor as he processed her words. He looked back and forth between the two of them, clearly still unsure. “Tired… from what?”

Jayce couldn’t hold back any longer, a grin spreading across his face. "Viktor, I think you might be overthinking it," he says. Y/N just nods, a faint, knowing smile on her lips.

Y/N shot Jayce a playful glare, but the corner of her mouth quirked into a barely-contained smile. Viktor, always the literal one, seemed to be trying to piece together the meaning behind Jayce’s words at a torturously slow pace. The silence stretched on as Viktor’s thoughtful expression lingered, his eyes shifting from Y/N to Jayce.

Finally, Jayce couldn’t resist any longer. "We assure you" he said, his voice still playful, "Y/N’s just a little worn out from all the… paperwork. Took her all night to do" He shot her a teasing glance.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smirk that formed on her face. “You’re unbelievable, Jayce,” she muttered under her breath, though there was a fondness in her voice that made Jayce’s heart race a little faster.

Viktor seemed to accept the answer, though his expression was still puzzled. He adjusted his posture and gave them a nod. “Ah, I see. Well, if you two are… content, that’s good.”

Jayce chuckled, slinging an arm around Y/N’s shoulders as they continued walking. “Oh, we’re very content, Viktor. Trust me on that.”

Y/N shot him a look, but her smile was soft. “You are lucky I love you, Jayce,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Viktor, still a bit uncertain, shook his head with a soft murmur about “human relationships” and their complexity before walking ahead, his cane tapping steadily on the floor.

Jayce and Y/N shared a quiet laugh as they continued down the hall, the air around them filled with a sense of shared amusement and unspoken understanding.

VIKTOR

Viktor's fingers danced over the complex blueprints spread out in front of him, the faint hum of machinery and the occasional click of his mechanical arm adding a subtle rhythm to the lab. He was so absorbed in his work, adjusting various parameters on the screens, his mind racing with calculations, that he didn't notice the soft steps approaching.

A small smirk tugged at your lips as you slipped into the lab, the door closing softly behind you. You watched Viktor for a moment, his back turned, the intensity of his focus making him seem almost untouchable. But not to you. Never to you.

You glided over, the soft rustle of your clothes the only warning as you leaned against him from behind, pressing your chest gently against his back. Your breath was warm against his neck, the faintest hint of a teasing smile playing at the corner of your lips. "Still working, Viktor?" you purred, voice low and playful.

Viktor froze for just a second, the sudden warmth against his back making his breath catch. His mechanical hand hovered over the console as if debating whether to continue his work or acknowledge your presence. He could feel the soft pressure of your chest, your body close enough to make him keenly aware of every inch between the two of you.

"Y/N..." His voice was slightly strained, but he quickly regained his composure. "I’m in the middle of something important. Could you—"

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against the back of his neck as you whispered, "I know you're busy, but I think you need a break."

Viktor's fingers twitched on the console, a surge of warmth rushing up his spine as your breath tickled his skin. He exhaled slowly, trying to push aside the distracting pull of your presence. "I don’t have time for distractions right now."

You smirked, your hands slowly sliding around his waist, the softness of your touch sending a jolt of heat through his body. "I think you're lying, Viktor. I’m the best kind of distraction."

He was finding it hard to concentrate now. The last few calculations he’d been so absorbed in were slipping from his mind as your presence seemed to cloud every thought. Your fingers gently traced patterns on his waist, teasing him, never quite touching the places he wanted. Viktor's jaw clenched as he struggled to keep his cool.

"You know how hard it is for me to concentrate when you're this close," he muttered, finally turning his head slightly to meet your eyes, his gaze sharp with a mixture of frustration and desire.

"That’s the idea," you teased, your lips curling into a playful grin. "Sometimes, Viktor, you need to be reminded that you’re not just your work."

His breath hitched again, and before he could respond, you pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck, your lips lingering just long enough to make him shiver. The warm sensation spread down his spine as his head tilted back ever so slightly.

You smiled, pulling back just a fraction. "I could help you with your work... if you’d like."

Viktor’s usual composure was cracking under the weight of your teasing, the cool, calculated scientist he often prided himself on nowhere to be found. His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he let out a breathy sigh. "You are a constant temptation, Y/N."

You grinned, satisfied by the effect you were having on him. "You love it," you murmured, your voice a soft promise.

Viktor could only shake his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips as he finally pushed aside his work, turning in his chair to face you completely. "You’re insufferable, but... I suppose a break wouldn’t hurt."

"Good," you said, leaning down and kissing him softly, the gentle tease in your movements turning into something deeper, a silent promise of more to come.

And for the moment, the lab, the work, and the world outside faded into nothing. Only the two of you remained.

=

Jayce walked down the hallway of the Piltover Academy, humming a quiet tune to himself as he approached the lab. He had spent most of the day tinkering with his own projects and had figured it was a good time to check on his friend. The door was slightly ajar, and he didn’t think much of it—Viktor often left it open when he was in deep focus.

As he got closer, though, a series of strange noises reached his ears. At first, it was subtle—a soft thud—but then it came again, louder, followed by a low, breathy sound that almost sounded like... a moan?

Jayce paused in his tracks, blinking and trying to process what he was hearing. No. No way. He shook his head. He had to be imagining things, right? But then, there it was again—a bang—followed by another distinct sound, like a deep exhale, muffled but still unmistakable. And, was that a soft groan?

His face turned a shade of crimson as he stood frozen in place, his hand hovering over the door handle. Okay, no. This can’t be happening. Viktor would never...

Another bang. This time, it was followed by a faint, breathless chuckle.

"Y/N... you're really not lying," Viktor's voice came through the door, a mix of amusement and something else Jayce couldn’t quite put his finger on. "You really do make the best distraction."

Jayce’s eyes widened. He didn’t even have to know the details to get the gist. A mix of confusion, disbelief, and... discomfort filled him, and before he could talk himself out of it, he quickly turned on his heel and began walking away, as fast as his legs could carry him.

He nearly collided with a group of students walking in the hallway, but he didn’t even notice, his mind racing with red-hot embarrassment. All he could hear was the sound of his own pounding heartbeat.

By the time he reached the end of the hall, he muttered to himself, "I did not just hear that. I did not walk in on that. Nope."

The poor engineer, now a bright red tomato, wiped a hand over his face, trying to erase the mental image.

"I’m never going to look at Viktor the same way again..." he mumbled under his breath, practically sprinting down the hall to anywhere but there.

As he turned the corner, he accidentally bumped into another passing student, who raised an eyebrow at him.

"Are you okay, Sir?" she asked.

Jayce, still flushed and jittery, stammered, "Fine, fine! Just—uh, just... don't go near the lab." The student gave him a puzzled look but didn’t press further. Meanwhile, Jayce was already several steps ahead, muttering to himself, "I swear to all that's holy, I can never unhear that."

Meanwhile, inside the lab, Y/N, completely oblivious to Jayce’s awkward retreat, was grinning mischievously as she applied just the right amount of pressure to Viktor’s tense shoulders. He let out another sigh of relief as she worked the knots from his back, her hands firm but gentle.

"Relax, Viktor. You’re so stiff," she teased, her fingers massaging the tension from his muscles. "I told you, a little bit of distraction is all you need."

Viktor, leaning into the touch with a grateful smile, gave a quiet laugh. "I can’t say you were wrong. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this until now." He turned his head just slightly to meet her eyes. "But I suppose I should thank you for reminding me of the importance of... relaxation."

"You’re welcome," she said with a wink, her hands still working on his back. "I’ve got plenty more distractions if you want them."

Viktor chuckled, but it was quickly replaced with another low exhale of relief as her hands moved lower down his spine. "You really do have a gift," he said, the humour in his voice softening into something more appreciative. "A very... unique gift."

Unbeknownst to them, Jayce’s face would never be quite the same again.

JAYVIK

The warmth of the late afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of their shared home. The living room was quiet, save for the faint crackling of a fire in the hearth. Viktor sat in his favorite chair, a book in hand, his mind more focused on the scientific theories he was scribbling in the margins than the world around him. Beside him, Jayce leaned against the armrest, his gaze lazy as he absently flipped through papers, the weight of the day pressing lightly on his shoulders.

Their peaceful moment was broken by the soft sound of footsteps approaching. Viktor's eyes flickered, alert to the presence of their shared lover before he even heard her voice.

Y/N strolled into the room, her bare feet making little sound on the wooden floor. She was clad in nothing more than a thin, satin robe that clung to her curves, the edges teasingly open, showing off more than it hid. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, and the faintest smirk played on her lips as she caught sight of the two men.

Without a word, she sauntered past them, her hips swaying seductively with each step. Jayce's eyes widened, his pen halting mid-air, a soft exhale slipping from his lips.

Viktor, ever the composed one, raised an eyebrow but couldn't quite hide the spark of interest flickering in his gaze. He adjusted his position in the chair, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but the sight of her walking with such a confident, teasing air... it was too much.

Y/N reached the kitchen, her robe barely covering anything as she opened the cupboard, leisurely pulling out a drink. She didn’t hurry, didn’t rush. Instead, she took her sweet time, her back to the boys, fully aware of their eyes on her. Viktor let out a low sigh, feeling the pull of desire in his chest, but it was Jayce who was the first to break the silence.

“Y/N, you know what you're doing…” he murmured, his voice strained.

She turned her head over her shoulder, flashing them a sly smile, “Do I?”

Without waiting for a response, Y/N grabbed the drink, tipping her head back in a slow, deliberate motion as she took a sip. Her gaze flicked back to the men, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Then, with a sultry smile, she walked back toward the bedroom, her steps purposeful, teasing—like she knew exactly what was going to happen.

Both men watched, entranced, as she swayed her hips, the fabric of her robe gently moving with her. The air between them thickened, the shared tension palpable.

It took barely a moment for them to glance at one another. Viktor’s lips curled into a grin, his hand tightening around his cane, feeling a rush of excitement. He couldn’t help himself.

Without a word, Viktor stood, his movements quick but controlled, tapping his cane sharply against Jayce’s leg to give himself a head start.

Jayce yelped in surprise, a mix of annoyance and amusement flashing in his eyes. Viktor didn’t wait. He was already moving toward the hallway, his pace quickening as he rushed to follow their lover, the promise of something much more tantalizing ahead.

Jayce cursed under his breath but quickly recovered, making his own move to catch up. However, Viktor was already rounding the corner of the hallway, just a few steps ahead of him. There was determination in Viktor's eyes, his focus solely on their shared lover, and that was all Jayce needed to know.

Y/N was already perched on the edge of the bed, still sipping her drink, a playful look in her eyes as she raised an eyebrow at their frantic entrance.

“Did you think I wouldn't notice?” she purred, setting the drink down on the nightstand.

Viktor wasted no time, his voice low and commanding as he approached her. “You are a troublemaker.”

Jayce joined them, a grin spreading across his face as he closed the distance. “But we can’t say we mind,” he added, his hand brushing against her arm, pulling her into the embrace of the two men.

Y/N smirked, her teasing nature only growing stronger as she leaned in between them, pressing a quick kiss to Viktor’s lips before turning to Jayce. “I just wanted to see who would give in first.”

The room was filled with the hum of anticipation, and as the three of them melted together, the teasing had only just begun.

And neither Viktor nor Jayce were ever ones to back down from a challenge.

=

The soft light of morning crept through the windows, casting a hazy glow over the kitchen. The gentle hum of the house was accompanied by the faint scent of fresh coffee brewing in the corner. At the kitchen table, Y/N sat slumped slightly, her head resting against her hand, as she poked listlessly at the plate in front of her. A half-eaten piece of toast lay forgotten, crumbs scattered across the surface as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

Her hair, usually so perfectly styled, was a wild tangle, the strands falling in all directions like a messy halo around her face. Her neck was dotted with love bites—small marks of the night before that spoke of the passion and playfulness she had shared with Viktor and Jayce. Her robe, now more like a crumpled sheet of fabric, clung loosely to her form as she sighed deeply, her eyelids fluttering with exhaustion.

She hadn’t been able to sleep much—too much energy, too much of them. But now, in the quiet aftermath, the exhaustion was hitting her full force. Still, there was something undeniably satisfying in the way her body felt—tired but content, sore in places that only told a story the two men would know.

From the doorway, Viktor stood watching her, his tired but sharp gaze softening as he took in the sight. The bruises on her skin, the weariness in her posture, it all made him smile in that quiet, reserved way of his. He had been up for a while, working as usual, but now he couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate the view of her. The slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips said everything—he was pleased, content, and thoroughly satisfied with how the night had gone.

Jayce entered from the hallway behind him, rubbing his eyes and yawning, looking just as disheveled, though his energy seemed a little more… vibrant. He glanced over at Y/N, a soft chuckle escaping him. “I think someone’s feeling the effects of last night.”

Y/N mumbled something incoherent, not even bothering to look up as she shifted in her seat, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. “You two are insatiable,” she muttered, her voice husky from sleep and the remnants of desire still lingering in her.

Viktor walked over to the table, his footsteps quiet on the wood, and placed a mug of coffee in front of her with a knowing glance. "I thought you might need this," he said, his voice low but tender.

Y/N barely lifted her head as she reached for the mug, sipping slowly and savouring the warmth. “I think I might need a nap before I can function,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jayce, now standing behind her, smirked and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "You don't get off that easy," he teased. "Besides, I think it’s time we take care of you a little. We’ll make sure you’re properly taken care of."

Her eyes cracked open just enough to glance up at him, a glimmer of mischief returning to her gaze despite the exhaustion. "Oh? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"

Viktor chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he sat across from her. "By ensuring you rest properly." He leaned in a little, his tone suddenly more serious but still warm. "You did, after all, wear us out last night."

Y/N rolled her eyes with a half-smile, but even as she did, she felt the weight of their words. There was comfort in their closeness, a sense of being cared for in a way she hadn’t known she needed. She could feel the tension melting away from her shoulders as Viktor and Jayce exchanged looks, their silent communication clear—they both had their ways of ensuring she was okay.

Her smile softened, and she finally pushed the plate aside, resting her head on her hand again. "I think I could go for a few more hours of sleep. But only if you two promise not to steal all the blankets this time."

Jayce laughed and leaned closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pressing a playful kiss to her neck. "We'll be good, I promise."

Viktor, watching them, simply nodded. "We'll take care of everything. Rest now, Y/N."

And with that, she closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax, feeling the warmth of her two lovers, the quiet rhythm of the morning settling around them. It was a perfect kind of exhaustion, the kind that only came after a night full of passion and love, the kind where all she needed was a little time to recharge before the next round of teasing—and chasing—began.

VANDER

In the dim light of Vander's bar, the last few patrons trickled out, leaving behind an almost deafening silence that filled the space with a heavy sense of anticipation. Y/N moved gracefully, her actions purposeful but slow, as she wiped down the tables that still glistened faintly from the evening's chaos.

Her back was turned to Vander, and as she bent over one of the tables to clean it thoroughly, she made sure to arch her spine just enough to catch his attention. The motion was deliberate, knowing he was behind her, but she wasn't in a rush. She swiped the cloth slowly, exaggeratedly curving her body and sticking her backside out toward him with a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Vander’s eyes narrowed, his breath caught in his chest as he watched her, hands still gripping the edge of the counter. He couldn’t help it—he was drawn to the way she moved, so fluid, so perfectly in control of every moment, every action. It made him want to take a step forward, but he remained rooted to the spot, as though savoring the tension building between them.

His pulse began to race with each intentional, languid motion of Y/N's. She wasn’t looking at him, but he knew she felt him there, felt his gaze. The way she adjusted her stance just so, leaning into the curve of her body, it wasn’t by accident. And the longer she took, the more it drove him wild. His fingers flexed at his sides, itching to touch her, but he knew—he knew better than to rush this.

The air thickened, and Vander felt his heart rate pick up as Y/N deliberately took her time. Every subtle move seemed to draw him in deeper, the distance between them so close, yet still far enough to tease. She wasn’t looking at him, but she knew he was there, and it made her pulse race with excitement. She could feel his gaze burning into her, even though she kept her focus on the table in front of her. The dim lighting only heightened the tension, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and grow with each passing second.

When she finished wiping down the last corner, she gave a soft sigh, satisfied with her work. But as she stood up, she wasn’t quick to straighten her posture. No, instead, she lingered for a moment, her back still arched, feeling his presence behind her like a powerful force. She could feel him getting closer, like the inevitable pull of a magnet, but she didn’t move—just stayed there, letting him make the first move.

Without a word, Vander closed the distance between them. His hands slid around her waist, gripping her gently but firmly, pulling her back against him. The warmth of his body enveloped her in an instant, and Y/N let out a soft, contented sigh, her muscles relaxing as she melted into his embrace. Her lips curving into a teasing grin as she felt him so close, so tangible.

“Careful, Y/N,” Vander’s voice rumbled low against the nape of her neck. His breath was warm, sending a shiver down her spine as he pressed his body closer to hers, his hands tightening slightly around her waist. He could feel her heart racing against his chest, the rhythm almost in sync with his own. His lips hovered over her ear, his voice hushed but thick with desire. “You’re playing with fire.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound almost playful, as her hands rested against the table for support. She let herself lean into him more, feeling the heat of his body press against hers, the tension between them now almost unbearable. She knew exactly what she was doing. She always did.

“Maybe I like playing with fire,” she whispered, her voice sultry and laced with teasing promise, daring him to take that last step, to make her move.

Vander’s lips brushed against her ear as he leaned in, his grip on her waist never loosening. “You always know how to tempt me, don’t you?” The words sent a fresh wave of heat crashing over her, and he could feel her body tense as she shifted, pressing back into him just slightly, the subtle gesture not lost on him.

Y/N’s smile grew wider, her eyes still focused on the edge of the table, but her lips parted in a slow, deliberate breath. She shifted her weight slightly, her body pressing back into his with an unmistakable hint of desire. “Maybe I just like seeing how long it takes for you to lose control.”

With that, Vander’s patience finally broke. With a soft, growled chuckle, he let his lips find the sensitive spot on her neck, his teeth grazing just lightly enough to make her shiver but not enough to leave a mark. The action sent a flood of heat through her, making her pulse race even faster. The world seemed to blur, the only thing that existed in that moment being the feeling of his hands on her, the warmth of his breath, and the mounting tension between them that neither was willing to break first.

Y/N tilted her head back against his shoulder, a small, satisfied moan slipping from her lips. "I knew you'd snap," she whispered, her voice breathless but filled with teasing triumph. She didn't care how long it took him; she loved seeing him unravel in her hands.

Vander groaned softly, the sound full of restraint, but also something darker. "You're going to make me lose my mind, Y/N." His fingers dug a little deeper into her waist, and Y/N felt a surge of satisfaction at how tightly he was holding her.

"Then lose it," she murmured, tilting her head to look over her shoulder, catching his gaze. And for a moment, everything in the room disappeared except for the two of them, standing on the edge of desire, waiting for the moment to tip over the edge into something neither of them could resist.

=

The following day, the bar was alive with the usual bustle—patrons talking, glasses clinking, the air thick with the warmth of conversation and the hum of activity. Y/N had just finished setting up the tables, making sure everything was in its place. As she moved across the room, tidying up and wiping down the surfaces, she found herself stealing a glance at Vander behind the bar. His eyes caught hers for a brief moment, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. The events of last night weren’t far from either of their minds.

It was then that a patron, a middle-aged man with a thick moustache, pulled out the chair at the table where Y/N had been cleaning the night before. He sat down with a sigh, setting down his mug as he eyed the surface. Without much thought, he gave the table a little push, his brow furrowing when it wobbled slightly.

"This table’s crooked," the man grumbled, giving it another nudge, trying to settle it. He leaned back, pushing his drink forward, but the table kept rocking with the smallest of movements.

Vander, who had been wiping down the counter, glanced over at the table. His eyes met Y/N’s, a brief flicker of amusement in them before they darkened slightly with a quiet, lingering smile.

Y/N, caught off guard, felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She turned her gaze away quickly, pretending to focus on wiping down the other tables as her heart fluttered in her chest. Her thoughts were a mess, remembering how she'd spent the previous night bent over that very table, and the way Vander had held her so close, his breath heavy against her skin. The memory made her cheeks burn even hotter.

Vander, his voice steady but full of a subtle, playful edge, addressed the patron. "You’ll have to excuse that. The table’s… got a bit of history with it." His gaze never left Y/N, and though his words were casual, the unspoken meaning between them was clear.

The patron shrugged, oblivious to the tension. "It’s not a big deal, just a bit wobbly."

Y/N, still avoiding eye contact, chuckled nervously as she busied herself with more cleaning. "Yeah, it’s been like that for a while," she mumbled, her voice almost too soft, knowing very well the reason behind it.

Vander’s grin deepened, his hands resting against the counter as he leaned forward slightly, his eyes glimmering with something mischievous. "It has a way of getting… wobbly with certain kinds of pressure," he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear, but loud enough to send a little thrill through her spine.

Y/N glanced up at him, her gaze sharp for just a second, before her face turned even more crimson. She quickly turned away, trying to stifle the nervous laughter that bubbled up in her chest.

The patron, still trying to adjust the table, finally gave up. "Guess I'll just make do," he muttered before turning to look at the drink menu, unaware of the exchange that had just passed between the two of them.

Vander, watching Y/N’s flushed cheeks with an expression that was both teasing and proud, couldn’t help but chuckle softly to himself. "Don’t worry," he said with a grin, keeping his voice light as he wiped a glass, "we’ll get it fixed for you." He gave Y/N another pointed look, but this time, there was no hiding the playful, mischievous spark in his eyes.

Y/N could feel the heat rise from her chest to her face, and she found herself fighting the urge to laugh and hide at the same time. Her eyes stayed focused on the task at hand, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her, twitching into a small, barely contained smile.

"Next time," she muttered under her breath, "I’ll make sure the tables stay upright."

Vander’s low laugh echoed through the space, and for a fleeting moment, Y/N wished the ground would swallow her whole. But even as she felt the weight of embarrassment, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what had passed between them—what had been shared the night before, and how it seemed to linger in the air like an unspoken promise.

SILCO

The dim light of Silco’s office cast long shadows across the walls, the air thick with tension as he negotiated with a potential investor. His eyes were sharp, focused on every word that fell from the man’s lips. Yet, despite his usual composure, there was something nagging at him today.

Y/N lounged casually on the plush sofa across from him, her legs crossed and a smirk playing on her lips. She didn’t even look at Silco; instead, her gaze was locked on the investor, a look of intrigue mixed with mischief in her eyes. She had always enjoyed these little games, and today, she was in the mood for something more… entertaining.

The investor, a rather nervous-looking man with too much ambition and not enough restraint, fidgeted with his cufflinks as Y/N’s teasing gaze drifted over him.

"Such an interesting proposal," she said sweetly, her voice dripping with honey. "You must really know how to run a business. I’m sure Silco could learn a lot from you." Her words were playful, but they were enough to throw the investor off-balance. He swallowed, his confidence faltering under her subtle advances.

Silco, of course, noticed the shift. His eyes narrowed just slightly as he met her gaze from across the room. His expression remained stoic, but a flicker of something darker crossed his face. He knew she was enjoying herself—he could tell by the way her lips curled and the way her fingers traced lazily across the armrest.

“I’m sure we can work something out,” the investor said, trying to regain his composure. “The arrangement would benefit everyone.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will,” Y/N replied, her tone suggestive. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, eyes locked on the investor in a way that made him flush slightly. “But, you know, Silco has a... unique way of handling things. I’m curious to see how you plan to keep up with him.”

Silco’s gaze flickered briefly to her before returning to the investor. The subtle jab wasn’t lost on him, and though he wanted to reprimand her, he couldn’t help but feel a hint of something else—amusement, perhaps. The way she teased him, tested his patience, always brought out a side of him he rarely showed. It was as if she knew how to push all his buttons.

The investor cleared his throat, clearly trying to focus. “I— I’m confident I can handle the arrangement, really. I’ve been working on it for months.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. “Months? Oh, how impressive,” she purred, her voice low and coaxing. “I wonder, though, how long you’ll last under Silco’s... influence. He’s quite demanding, you know.” She leaned back again, her smile teasing but there was an edge to it that hinted at something more.

Silco's jaw tightened, and he couldn’t hold back the slight curl of his lip, his control slipping just a fraction. He pushed the papers on his desk aside, standing slowly, his gaze never leaving Y/N’s.

“I think you’ve had your fun,” he said, his voice low and velvety, the calm before a storm.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

“Come here,” Silco’s command was quiet but firm.

She stood with a smirk, walking over to him with deliberate slowness, every step calculated to send a thrill through both Silco and the nervous investor. She stopped just in front of him, tilting her head slightly to meet his gaze. “What’s the matter, darling? Jealous?”

A dangerous glint flickered in his eyes as he took a step closer, the air between them suddenly charged with heat. “You like to tease, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice a silken threat. “You forget who’s in charge here.”

Y/N’s smile widened, her fingers trailing over his chest in a soft, lingering touch. “Oh, I remember perfectly.”

Before Silco could respond, he noticed the investor shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The moment was hanging in the air, thick with unspoken tension.

“I believe we’ve come to an understanding,” Silco said coldly, his eyes never leaving Y/N.

The investor stood abruptly, his voice shaky as he nodded quickly. “Yes, yes, of course. I’ll... I’ll leave you two to it.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, the silence settled. Y/N’s teasing smile remained, but there was something more dangerous in the air now, something that made the blood in Silco’s veins run hotter.

He reached out, pulling her in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke in a low growl, “You’ve pushed me far enough tonight, Y/N. Now it’s my turn.”

=

A week had passed, and Silco was seated at his desk once again, his sharp eyes scanning the papers in front of him. His mind was sharp, focused as always—driven by the unyielding need for control. Yet, today, there was a different kind of tension in the air, a subtle hum of anticipation that he couldn’t quite shake. It was the kind of feeling that made him glance at the door every now and then, a feeling that told him something was about to shift.

The door to his office creaked open, and the same investor from last week entered, stepping into the room with a careful, measured stride. His posture was better this time, less nervous, though the flicker of discomfort never fully left his eyes. He wasn’t as jittery as before, but there was still an undeniable wariness about him, especially when he found his gaze falling to Silco’s. But it wasn’t Silco’s imposing presence that caught the investor’s attention immediately.

As he made his way toward the desk, he couldn’t help but notice the condition of the polished wood. Silco had always been meticulous about his office. Every corner was aligned with perfection, every surface spotless, as if it had been carefully curated to display a persona of unyielding order. But now—there were deep, jagged scratches gouged into the surface of the desk, the kind that hinted at a struggle, at something—or someone—being dragged across it with unexpected force.

The investor’s eyes darted between the scratches and Silco, uncertainty settling in his gut. He froze for just a beat, his brow furrowing, trying to make sense of what had happened here. These marks were new, and they certainly weren’t from paperwork or the usual wear of an office. They looked far too violent, too... intimate.

In the corner of the room, Y/N was lounging on the plush couch, her eyes half-lidded, lips curled into a mischievous smile as she watched the investor with a knowing gaze. She had always been a tease, and this was no exception. There was a certain satisfaction in watching the man try to figure out what had caused the damage, especially since she was the reason those marks were there. She had certainly made her presence known on that desk not long ago—her teasing and playful nature had driven Silco to the edge, and he’d taken her right there, in the heat of the moment, with all the passion he could muster.

The investor, still unsure whether to comment, hesitated a moment longer. His gaze shifted back to Silco, waiting for some acknowledgment of the marks, but Silco said nothing. The silence stretched between them, palpable and thick.

Silco, ever the master of control, noticed the man’s hesitation. He allowed his lips to curl into the smallest of smiles, an expression that could be mistaken for amusement—or something darker. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the desk, but he made no mention of the marks.

“Is something troubling you?” Silco asked, his voice smooth and lethal, like velvet covering steel. His gaze was unwavering, eyes glinting with a cold, knowing amusement.

The investor swallowed hard, the discomfort now fully visible in his posture. He stammered as he tried to regain his composure. “No, no, not at all, Mr. Silco. Just… admiring the craftsmanship of your desk. It’s… unique.”

Silco’s smile deepened, a flash of something darker in his eyes. “It has its history,” he said simply, his voice carrying an edge that was just a bit too cold, a bit too knowing for comfort. The words hung in the air, lingering with a weight that the investor could not ignore.

The man nodded quickly, but the unease was still there, gnawing at him. What history? What could have possibly caused those scratches? He glanced at Y/N, half expecting her to offer some kind of explanation, but her gaze remained fixed on him, her lips curling further into a teasing smile, as if she found the whole situation immensely amusing.

Y/N was enjoying this far too much. The investor’s nervousness, the tension in the air—it was all so easy to manipulate. Her fingers absentmindedly trailed across the armrest of the couch, the same fingers that had just left those marks on the desk. The memory of that night, of how Silco had pulled her closer and made her forget everything but the raw, urgent need between them, still lingered in the back of her mind. The way he’d taken control, how she’d given in to him fully. It had been... exhilarating. And now, the aftermath of that passion was still written all over his desk.

The investor, now visibly flustered, shifted uncomfortably on his feet, clearly wanting to move on. He cleared his throat, trying to get back to the business at hand. “Right, of course, Mr. Silco. The arrangement… as I mentioned last time, we’ve made great strides on my end. I’ve had my people review the proposal, and we’re ready to—”

Silco cut him off, his voice sharper now, a hint of irritation seeping in. “Good. Let’s get to the point.”

There was a brief moment of silence as the investor hesitated, still clearly unsettled by the marks on the desk. His gaze kept flickering toward them as he tried to focus on the task at hand, but the thought of what—who—had caused those scratches wouldn’t leave his mind. He didn’t dare ask, though, because something told him that Silco’s answer would be anything but comforting.

Instead, he pressed on with the business, his voice more steady as he outlined the progress made on the deal. Silco, however, wasn’t truly listening. His thoughts were elsewhere—his gaze drifting back to Y/N, who was still lounging on the couch, her eyes gleaming with something unspoken.

He hadn’t forgotten that night. He never did. And while the investor continued to ramble, Silco allowed his mind to wander back to the sharp intensity of Y/N’s teasing, her hands on him, leaving her own mark on him just as he had left his on her. There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that only he and Y/N truly understood the history of that desk.

After all, not every mark could be explained by business.

SEVIKA

The soft hum of the apartment was broken only by the rhythmic clink of Sevika’s boots against the floor as she relaxed on the worn-out sofa, sipping on a drink. Her fingers lightly traced the rim of her glass, eyes half-lidded as she watched Y/N move about the room.

Y/N, ever the tease, stood in front of the large window, stretching slowly and purposefully. They arched their back, letting their spine curve in an exaggerated stretch, all the while glancing over their shoulder toward Sevika with a playful smirk. Their legs stretched wide, and their hands reached toward the ceiling, fingers splayed as they subtly made their way down their body, just enough to give Sevika a glimpse of their toned figure.

Sevika’s eyes narrowed, the sharp glint in them betraying the calm she tried to project. She took a long sip, though the way her gaze lingered on Y/N's movements made it clear she was paying more attention than she'd let on.

"You're really doing this right now?" Sevika's voice was low, but there was a trace of amusement in it.

Y/N hummed, twisting their body in a way that made their hips sway. "What, can't a person stretch in peace?" They dropped to the floor with a graceful roll, moving fluidly into a split that made Sevika’s jaw tighten. Y/N's hands rested on the floor in front of them, but their eyes locked with Sevika's as they grinned. "You don’t mind, do you? It's just a stretch... Unless you're too distracted."

Sevika's free hand curled into a fist, and she fought to keep her posture relaxed. "You know damn well what you're doing."

Y/N pushed themselves back up to stand, but as they did, they took their time, letting their body drag out the movement just to watch Sevika’s response. "Oh, I’m not doing anything. You’re just imagining things," they teased, though the glint in their eye said otherwise.

Sevika stood up, her long limbs moving with an intimidating fluidity as she approached. Her dark eyes locked onto Y/N’s, her voice a low growl. "Don’t make me come over there and remind you who’s in charge, sweetheart."

Y/N chuckled, stepping closer, running their fingers along Sevika's chest. "I think you like it when I push your buttons," they murmured, lips brushing against her ear as they leaned in close. "Tell me, Sevika... are you in the mood for more than just teasing?"

Sevika smirked, catching Y/N by the wrist before they could retreat. "Careful," she warned in a hushed tone, "or you might get more than you bargained for."

Y/N’s grin widened, knowing full well that Sevika always played to win. "I’m ready for whatever you’ve got."

In an instant, Sevika's smirk turned into a sly grin as she grabbed Y/N’s waist with one arm, lifting them easily off their feet. Y/N barely had time to react as they were swung over Sevika’s shoulder, their breath catching in surprise. They laughed, the playful sound ringing out as they playfully smacked Sevika's back.

"Hey! I was just stretching, no need to get so dramatic!" Y/N teased, trying to wiggle free, but Sevika’s hold was firm, her hand pressing gently but firmly against their back as she made her way toward the bedroom.

Sevika’s voice was low, almost a growl, as she spoke. "You’ve been pushing my patience, sweetheart. Now, you're going to get the kind of attention that doesn’t come with any more teasing."

Y/N's heart raced as they felt the warmth of Sevika’s hand against their body, the protective, possessive grip that sent a thrill through them. They leaned their head back over Sevika’s shoulder, eyes glinting with challenge. "You’re acting like I’m the one who’s been bad," they muttered, but there was no mistaking the excitement that danced in their tone.

Sevika’s laugh was dark and rich, and she gave Y/N a playful shake as they neared the bedroom door. "You’re always bad, Y/N. You just don't know when to stop."

=

The morning light filtered softly through the blinds, casting a gentle glow over the apartment. Y/N was stretched out on the couch, her legs propped up, a soft moan escaping her lips as she shifted slightly. The muscles in her legs ached from the intense workout they had both shared the night before, and though it wasn’t the first time, the memory still left her with a deep, pleasurable soreness.

Sevika sat beside her, her strong hands working expertly into Y/N’s calves, massaging out the tension. Her touch was firm but gentle, applying just enough pressure to ease the knots in Y/N’s muscles without making her squirm too much. Every now and then, Y/N would let out a soft whimper or groan, her body melting into the couch.

"You know, this wouldn’t be happening if you didn't have to turn every simple stretch into a show," Sevika said, her voice low and playful as her fingers kneaded into Y/N’s sore muscles.

Y/N shifted again, her back arching slightly as another soft moan escaped her lips. "I need to stretch more," she muttered, though the words were more of a half-complaint than anything else. "Clearly, I haven’t been taking care of myself enough."

Sevika smirked, her fingers digging deeper into Y/N's muscles. "You’re going to stretch yourself into trouble if you keep this up," she teased, leaning closer, her breath brushing against Y/N’s ear. "But I’m happy to help... I know exactly where to apply pressure."

Y/N let out a laugh, albeit a bit breathless. "I think that’s the understatement of the year," she said, her voice still laced with a mix of teasing and quiet satisfaction. "You’re good at this. A little too good."

Sevika’s fingers paused for a moment as she glanced up, her gaze a mixture of amusement and affection. "You’re not the only one who knows how to get a reaction," she said, her hand sliding up to Y/N’s thighs, the warmth of her touch spreading through her body.

Y/N let out a contented sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxed into the couch. "Maybe I need to get more of these massages," she murmured, voice thick with a mix of humor and satisfaction. "You might be onto something, Sev."

Sevika chuckled, her hands continuing to work their magic. "Oh, I’m sure you’ll be begging for more soon enough," she said, a teasing edge in her voice. "But let’s make sure you actually stretch next time, hm?"

Y/N shifted again, her legs twitching slightly at the relief Sevika’s touch provided. She smirked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think I’ll just stretch for you anytime you ask, babe," she murmured, a sly grin pulling at the corner of her mouth. "You always know how to make it worth it."

Sevika raised an eyebrow as she glanced down at her. "Don’t tempt me," she warned, but there was a hint of something more dangerous in her tone, a playful, wicked edge that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine.

[lurochar]

First Rut, With You

A short drabble based on the Rut Stuff headcanons

Warnings: None

-----------------------------------------

This wouldn’t do.

You hummed cheerfully, completely unaware of the darkening eyes watching you from the shadows.

Oh, he couldn’t have this.

He could feel his eyes begin to blacken and the itch in his antlers somehow felt even worse than it did at the peak of his previous ruts.

You could, and should, be held responsible for bringing about such an irritating change in him. He never had to deal with these absurd urges before.

Rutting season had been nothing more than just a minor inconvenience, a month where he felt a little less patience and more aggression than he usually would – an easy fix, a little extra slaughter always soothed his ruffled fur.

Well, until you showed up in his (after)life and somehow managed to make yourself quite charming to someone like himself.

He had never imagined finding a partner would change the physical aspect of his rut month so much, it even seemed to awaken some sort of deep instinctual part of him that Alastor didn’t realize he possessed.

You needed to make it up to him for making him feel this way.

~00~

“My little Doe~”

You almost screeched, hearing the static and the filtered voice only after you felt a touch on your hand come from below and you stumbled, still not used to Alastor’s mastery of shadows that he liked to regularly abuse to scare the living shit out of you.

“Hmm, how are you this hellish afternoon?” Alastor asked in his usual chipper tone, eyes quickly drawn to what was in your hand and his grin tensed and twitched on one side. “What is that monstrosity?”

He was well aware demons were stopping and staring, whispering to each other, probably in shock that the Radio Demon was having a casual and cordial conversation with a Sinner who wasn’t a fellow Overlord.

Let them talk for a few minutes – he’ll be taking their worthless eyeballs for daring to gawk at you in a few moments anyways. 

You patted your chest a few times, feeling a little heavy as you barely managed to swallow down your mouthful before you choked on it. “I’m still not used to that. How am I still not used to that?” You said under your breath and Alastor’s smile twitched once more, his mind jumbled and completely out of control.

His patience wasn’t exactly all there, (maybe you didn’t know that), you shouldn’t ignore him like that, your attention should be on him, so answer his question, whywereyoueatingthat, HECOULDPROVIDEYOUWITHBETTER–

“What is that?” Alastor repeated with gritted fangs, not liking that he did have to repeat himself to begin with and you snapped out of your shadow-induced shock, glancing at the thing-that-shouldn’t-even-be-called-food in your hand.

“It’s just a dough–” You started, reeling back in surprise when Alastor knocked your treat out of your hand like a naughty cat knocking things off a table and you’re just baffled at the sheer child-like pettiness of it, “–nut…” You finish, simply staring at your fallen doughnut on the ground.

Huh.

“I admit I have no fondness for sweets,” Alastor doesn’t like you looking at that damn doughnut with those pretty doe eyes of yours, especially with that disappointment, “but if you are craving a sweet treat, I am capable of making beignets at the very least.”

It’s the only dessert recipe of his mother’s that he can replicate, he was never one for baking.

“Alastor,” you quickly forget about the doughnut when you look back at Alastor, “are you… feeling okay?” You asked in concern, quickly noting he was not his normal self.

His antlers were a little larger than normal, he looked all around irritated, his eyes were flickering between black and red, and his pupils were spinning as if they couldn’t settle between their normal shape or the radio dials he was known for.

“No, that’s not enough,” Alastor didn’t answer your question, “beyond sweets, for every meal, you need to come to me, my Doe. I’ll skin anyone alive who think they can feed– care for you better than I can.”

“I…” Something was off with Alastor, but you could directly ask him when you weren’t in public and–was that screaming?

Ah.

Alastor’s shadow and other little minions were making mincemeat out of the passersby and you guessed they must have riled Alastor up by staring just a little too long. Well, if you wanted to be in the Radio Demon’s life, it was just a fact you had to get used to.

You jumped when you felt something large being draped over you and you felt warm and fuzzy when you could smell Alastor’s scent enveloping you. “What are you doing?” You flushed, seeing that Alastor had taken off his overcoat and was currently wrapping you up in it, looking a little less irritated at the sight of you in it.

“I can still smell that doughnut and its maker on you.” Alastor snarled at the very thought before reaching down to intertwine his fingers within yours and he almost barked out a laugh at how utterly red your face was getting at the gesture. How adorable, you matched his coat.

“W-what are you doing!?” You were completely confused at this point because Alastor never touched you affectionately out in public – both for his image and for your safety. This was odd, bizarre, but you didn’t hate it, you were just flustered at the abruptness of this strange new thing.

“Hmm, I suppose I should have shared something about myself with you earlier,” Alastor tightened his hand around yours, strolling along with you slowly so you could keep up with your shorter frame, “When we are away from any prying eyes and ears, I will tell you what this is. But first, my little Doe, let us enjoy a nice afternoon walk, shall we?”

“O-okay.” You simply nodded, spotting a streaking black shape speeding towards you and Alastor and Alastor’s shadow emerged from the ground. You looked curiously at it when it held out its hands to Alastor in an eager manner, but slowly stepped back once you got a glimpse of what it actually was holding.

“Good job.” Alastor nodded with approval and the shadow seemed to look at you restlessly before Alastor held out to you what he ordered his shadow to retrieve – those worthless Sinners’ eyeballs. “A gift for you, dearest. And many in your favourite colour!”

Ah… ha.

“Thank you, Alastor.”

Yep, better get used to it.

[xomakara]

Fated to Meet

SUMMARY | When the power goes out of the cabin you're sharing with a stranger named Haechan, you wonder if it's luck or fate that brought you two together after a night of intimacy. PAIRINGS |  Haechan x Reader RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked GENRE |  smut, strangers to lovers, non-idol au, snowstorm CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, kissing, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), slight dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (male giving/female receiving), vaginal penetration, creampie, multiple orgasms LENGTH |  3,227 words TAGLIST |  – NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety AUTHOR’S NOTE |  hi all~ This is written for kvanity’s winter event, “The Naughty or Nice List”, and the prompts/dialogue I used were:

Stuck sharing a cabin with a stranger that is double booked

“Ever been kissed under the mistletoe?”

“Maybe you can warm me up.”

Happy reading folks!

NCT Main Masterlist

“There’s no way I’m giving up the bed,” you snap, arms crossed over your chest as you stare down Haechan. He’s taller than you by a few inches, his shoulders filling out the frame of the cabin doorway. His dark eyes narrow, and you can see the flicker of annoyance in them, but there’s something else too—a glint of amusement that makes your stomach tighten.

“You think because you got here first, it’s yours?” he shoots back, his voice low and smooth with just a hint of a challenge. “That’s not how this works.”

The cabin is small, cozy, and decidedly not big enough for two people who didn’t plan on sharing it. The fireplace crackles softly in the corner, casting warm light over the wooden walls and the single queen-sized bed that’s become the center of your argument. Outside, the snow falls heavily, blanketing the world in white and trapping you both here for the night.

“I booked this place weeks ago,” you say, stepping closer to him, refusing to back down. “You’re the one who showed up uninvited.”

Haechan raises an eyebrow, leaning casually against the doorframe like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Funny,” he says, “because my confirmation email says otherwise.” 

He pulls out his phone, scrolling through it before holding it up for you to see. Sure enough, there’s the booking confirmation for the same dates.

You groan, running a hand through your hair. Of course. Of course this would happen to you. You were supposed to have a peaceful weekend alone in the mountains, away from the chaos of the city. But instead, you’re stuck here arguing with a stranger over a bed.

“Fine,” you mutter, turning away from him and pacing the small space. “We’ll figure something out. Maybe… maybe we can take turns? Or—”

“Or,” Haechan interrupts, his voice cutting through your frustration. It’s softer now, almost teasing. “We could just share.”

You stop in your tracks, spinning around to face him. “What?”

He shrugs, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “It’s a big bed. Plenty of room for two.”

Your cheeks flush, and you quickly look away, pretending to focus on the fire. “That’s… that’s not happening.”

“Why not?” he presses, taking a step closer. You can feel the heat radiating off him, even from a few feet away. He smells faintly of cedar and something spicy, like cinnamon or clove. It’s distracting, and you hate how much it affects you.

“Because I don’t know you,” you say, your voice firmer than you feel. “And I’m not sharing a bed with some random guy who just barged into my cabin.”

“Our cabin,” he corrects, grinning now. “And I’m not ‘some random guy.’ I’m Haechan.”

“And I’m Y/N,” you mutter sarcastically. “Now we’re practically best friends.”

He laughs, a rich sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “You’re feisty. I like that.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skips at his words. “Can we just figure this out? I’m tired, and I don’t want to spend all night arguing with you.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he tilts his head, studying you with that same amused expression. Then, his gaze shifts upward, and his smirk grows wider. 

“Well, well,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, almost playful tone. “Look where we’re standing.”

You follow his gaze, and your stomach does a flip when you see it: a sprig of mistletoe hanging right above your heads. Your breath catches, and for a second, you forget how to speak. Haechan steps closer, closing the distance between you until you can feel the warmth of his body against yours. His eyes lock onto yours, and you can see the mischief dancing in them. 

“Ever been kissed under the mistletoe?” he asks, his voice so soft it’s almost a whisper.

Your heart races, and you swallow hard, trying to find your voice. 

“N-no,” you manage to stammer, though you’re not sure why you’re answering him. He hums, the sound sending a ripple of heat through you. 

“Well,” he says, leaning in just a little closer, “there’s a first time for everything.”

Your mind screams at you to pull away, to put some distance between you and this dangerously charming man. But your body betrays you, rooted to the spot as his scent washes over you, his proximity making every nerve in your body tingle.

His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and the gentle touch sends sparks racing down your spine. 

“You’re blushing,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement.

“I’m not,” you protest weakly, even as you feel your cheeks burn hotter.

He chuckles, the sound low and intimate. “Liar.”

Before you can retort, his other hand settles on your waist, pulling you gently toward him. Your breath hitches, and your hands instinctively land on his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath his sweater. He’s solid, real, and so close you can almost taste him.

“Relax,” he whispers, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “It’s just a kiss.”

You should say no. You should push him away and demand he keep his distance. But something about the way he’s looking at you, the way his fingers trace tiny circles on your hip, makes it impossible to resist.

And then, he closes the gap.

His lips meet yours in a soft, tentative kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. At first, it’s gentle, almost chaste, but as the seconds stretch on, the tension between you builds. His hand moves from your waist to cradle the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, asking, pleading for more.

Your body responds before your brain can catch up, your hands sliding up to his shoulders as you lean into him, parting your lips to let him in.

The moment his tongue slips past your lips, a fire ignites in your core, spreading heat through your veins. You can taste him now—spearmint and something undeniably masculine—and it drives you wild. A small moan escapes you, muffled by his mouth, and he groans in response, his grip tightening on you.

You’re vaguely aware of the way he backs you up, guiding you until the edge of the bed hits the back of your thighs. He breaks the kiss just long enough to look at you, his chest rising and falling as he searches your face for any sign of hesitation.

When he finds none, he kisses you again, harder this time, more urgent. Your knees buckle, and you collapse onto the bed, dragging him down with you. He braces himself above you, his weight pressing you into the mattress in the most delicious way. One of his legs slots between yours, and you grind against him instinctively, craving the friction.

His lips leave yours to trail down your jaw, nipping lightly at your skin before moving to your neck. You arch into him, gasping as he sucks at the sensitive spot just below your ear. His hand slides under your shirt, his palm hot against your stomach as it travels upward, teasing the curve of your breast.

“H-Haechan,” you breathe, your voice shaky and barely recognizable.

He pauses, lifting his head to look at you. His eyes are dark, hungry, and completely focused on you. 

“Tell me to stop,” he says, his voice rough. “And I will.”

But you don’t. Instead, you slide your hands down his back, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between you. He growls softly, capturing your lips once more as his fingers tug at the hem of your shirt, stripping it away. The cool air hits your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his mouth as he trails kisses down your collarbone...

“Wait—” you gasp, tugging slightly at his hair. He stops immediately, pulling back to look at you, his breathing heavy. “What about… the bed?”

He chuckles darkly, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs, his hand trailing down your side. “We’re gonna make good use of it.”

The room is a blur of heat and friction, his body pressing into yours. His hands are everywhere—skimming your waist, gripping your hips, tangling in your hair. You can’t think straight, not with the way he’s kissing you, not with the way his touch sends shivers racing down your spine.

But just as his fingers hook into the waistband of your jeans, the room plunges into darkness. The sudden absence of light startles you both, and Haechan pulls back slightly, his breath warm against your lips.

“What the—” His voice cuts off as you hear him fumble for something on the nightstand. A moment later, the soft glow of his phone screen illuminates the room, casting shadows across his face. “Power’s out,” he mutters, squinting at the screen. “Must be the storm.”

You hadn’t even noticed the storm outside. Now that it’s dark, though, the sound of heavy snow pounding against the windows fills the silence, rhythmic and relentless. The wind howls, rattling the panes, and you feel a chill creep into the air despite the warmth still lingering between you.

Haechan tosses his phone onto the bed, the dim light barely enough to see each other. He turns back to you, his expression unreadable in the shadows. For a moment, neither of you speaks. The tension is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. And then, slowly, he reaches out, his hand brushing against your arm.

“Cold?” he asks, his voice low.

“Maybe you can warm me up,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of anticipation. The darkness seemed to amplify every sound—the hitch in Haechan’s breath, the rustle of fabric as he shifted closer.

His hand stilled on your arm for a moment before sliding up to cup your cheek. His palm was warm against your skin, and you leaned into his touch instinctively. 

“Is that an invitation?” he murmured, his tone teasing but laced with something deeper, something raw.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you reached for him, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you. His lips found yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if savoring the moment. The kiss deepened, and you felt the heat building between you, chasing away the chill that had crept into the room.

Haechan’s hands moved down to your waist, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. His touch was electric, sending sparks skittering across your skin. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before his mouth returned to yours, hungry and insistent. His hands explored every inch of you, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You gasped as his lips trailed down your neck, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin. 

“Haechan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

He paused, lifting his head to meet your gaze. In the faint light from his phone, you could see the intensity in his eyes, the way they burned with desire. “Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice rough.

You didn’t hesitate. “You. I want you.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Then you’ve got me.”

Time stood still, a haze of pleasure washing over you. Nothing existed outside of the moment; your only focus was on the delicious sensation of him, pressed against you, his mouth hungrily seeking yours. The storm still raged outside, but there was no trace of cold—not when you were wrapped in Haechan's arms, every nerve in your body sparking with electricity.

Your back arched as he buried his head and fingers between your legs, teasing your entrance. A low moan slipped past your lips as he sucked, sending jolts of pleasure through your core. You gripped the sheets tightly, desperate for more.

The storm rumbled outside, but all you could hear was his voice—soft groans and husky whispers that were slowly driving you crazy. Your mind was foggy, and your senses overloaded. All you could focus on were the sensations—his lips, his touch, his body flush against yours.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue drove deeper, coaxing a shaky gasp from your mouth. Heat pooled low in your belly, a silent plea for more, and he was only too happy to comply. His pace quickened, drawing ragged moans from your lips. You were unraveling—body, mind, soul—lost in a haze of pure ecstasy.

There was no time to catch your breath; you could already feel the wave of pleasure building within you, threatening to break. But you held on, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. 

He watched you come undone, watched the way you unraveled under his touch, and knew there was no going back after this—after hearing the way his name sounded when it tumbled off your lips. It was music to his ears, the way this beautiful stranger moaned and writhed in his embrace, all because of him. Because he knew exactly which spot to hit, because he could feel how close you were, how you pulsed against his fingers as he pushed deeper, as his thumb rubbed your clit until you were left gasping for air.

He'd been with plenty of girls before, but he'd never been with one as beautiful as you, all flushed cheeks and swollen lips, your hair tousled and sticking to your sweaty skin, your body trembling in his arms. 

No, there was something different about you, and he didn't care how cliche it sounded—it felt like fate when two strangers suddenly find themselves sharing a cramped vacation cabin in the snow-covered mountains.

And he was going to savor this, to make you a mess, a delicious, filthy mess, and then he'd go for more, because one kiss under the mistletoe wasn't nearly enough.

One touch wasn't nearly enough.

Once your orgasms had ebbed away and the last aftershocks faded into the quiet, Haechan gave you a sinful smirk, licking the taste of your sweetness from his fingers before covering your naked body with his. His lips brushed over yours, his teeth nibbling your lower lip in a sweet kiss.

"Round two?" he purred, grinding against you, letting you feel the weight of his cock as it twitched between your thighs. "Or is this over after the first round?"

You glanced at your surroundings, at the cramped, cozy cabin that somehow felt intimate instead of oppressive and small, despite its size. 

"Fuck no," you mumbled, tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging slightly on the silken strands. "Mistletoe kisses are forever, mister."

He grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Round two was spent with your legs wrapped around Haechan's waist, his strong arms braced on either side of your head. Your fingers raked down his back as you panted, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

"Harder," you urged him, your voice shaky, pleading. "Fuck me harder, Haechan."

That was all the encouragement he needed. He drove deeper, losing himself in the sensation of your body pressed against his. There were no thoughts of past relationships, of the obligations that awaited you both back home; right now, the world was shrinking to the two of you and this perfect little bubble.

He leaned in and kissed you, hard and passionate, his lips demanding, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth. He wanted, no, needed, all of you. And if you were going to spend the night fucking your brains out, you sure as hell were going to go home with sore hips and an aching voice, knowing no one else will ever take his place.

With your skin slick with sweat and the room thick with the scent of sex, his mouth never leaving yours for a second, it felt as if the two of you were making up for the years you'd both spent lonely in the cold. Your heart felt heavy with emotion, as if you'd fallen in love overnight, all from sharing the same bed and letting yourself get fucked senseless by the most gorgeous man you'd laid your eyes on.

But it would soon be over—too soon, far too soon, and in a few short hours, the morning sun would rise, and you would both be packing your things, the secret affair of two strangers put away under lock and key.

Your moans mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin, his thrusts erratic, almost urgent as you came, and you came, and you came. Your toes curled, his cock rubbing that sweet spot, bringing you to the edge again, again, until you were completely spent, and your lips were cracked and swollen from biting them and from his tongue.

"H-Haechan," you managed to breathe, trying to remember how to speak. You were like jelly, barely able to form a sentence, the aftermath of one of the most intense orgasms you'd ever experienced turning your limbs to jelly. "Oh, fuck!"

You tried to catch your breath, your hands limp as his broad chest rose and fell with the force of his own breathing. Slowly, he pulled out, and a flood of his warmth spilled onto your thighs, your wetness still glistening on his cock. 

"Fuck," his forehead touched yours, and his lips twitched into a smile. "Who knew a mistletoe kiss would get you this fucking good?"

You couldn't help but grin, even as the bittersweet ache of loneliness in your chest bloomed. You didn't know him well—hell, you didn't even know his last name. But the way his eyes twinkled as he looked down at you made you want to fall asleep in his arms and wake up to his charming grin and beautiful bed head every damn morning.

"Can I ask you something?" he murmured after a moment.

"Sure," you replied.

His fingers brushed against your cheek, and his smile was suddenly soft, a tiny smile so beautiful it made you hold your breath. "Do you believe in fate?"

"Fate?" you asked.

“Mmm,” Haechan hummed. “Like, when two people are destined to meet?”

"Maybe," you replied with a soft, breathless laugh.

Haechan cupped your cheek, pressing his lips to yours again. He kissed you long and slow, savoring the lingering taste of you, and whispered, "Then what if we make fate work in our favor?"

You pulled away just slightly, searching his face. There was a strange fluttering in your heart, as if all your dreams were within your reach. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and the gentle way he caressed you almost made you lose your damn mind. "Spend the New Year with me. Let's see if fate really brought us together or if we were just lucky. What do you say, stranger?"

You chuckled, cupping the back of his neck, fingers sliding into the silken strands of his hair. "I'd say, stranger... this was definitely not a one-night stand, and I'd very much like to see where fate leads us."

[paradiseismine]

Short skirt - Trevor Spengler x reader

Pairing: Trevor Spengler (Ghostbusters Afterlife/Frozen Empire) x f!reader

Warnings: smut; slight spanking; cum fetish I guess (?); boyfriend Trevor.

Love note from Nina: this is inspired by my +18 Trevor Spengler Headcanons post, sort of an extension to that.

Trevor has always had a thing for skirts and dresses - he likes girls to be girly, that’s all. He loves frilly lingerie and delicate sleepwear, specially when he gets to take them off your body (or at least slide them to the side a little).

You had bought the shortest skirt you could find on the internet - think Sabrina Carpenter on her concerts, minus the leotard underneath. Skirts that short weren’t even your style, you probably wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing them out on the street. But inside the house, with the sole purpose of seducing your boyfriend… That was a whole different story.

Trev was supposed to come over to your house in the afternoon, so you could spend some time together and maybe watch a movie (or leave some movie as background noise while you two made out). At 3 p.m., your doorbell rang.

- Come in, it’s open - you yelled from the couch.

Trevor opened the door, closing it gently behind him after entering your living room.

- You shouldn’t do that, you know? What if it was some pervert on your doorstep? - he approached you, lightly kissing your lips to greet you as you stood up to do so.

- I knew it was my pervert - you chuckled, hugging him tightly. You could smell cologne from his neck. He knew you loved it, so he’d always wear it when you were together.

As you two let go of the hug, suddenly, Trev’s eyebrows raised in a weird way. He took your hand and made you spin around so he could take a better look. You laughed softly in response.

- What’s this, Trev?

- May i repeat your question, love? What’s with that skirt?

- Don’t you like it? - you put your hands on your hips, jokingly posing for him. - I just got it, it came in through the mail this morning.

- It’s beautiful, princess - he nodded, sincerely. - Looks great on you. It’s just that I’ve never seen you wear anything like that, I mean, it barely covers your ass - he chuckled, giving your butt a light smack. - Where are you gonna wear that?

- Uhm, at home… - you answered, as if it was obvious, then put your arms around his neck. - To you…

- Y/n… Did you buy that skirt just to tease me? - he tried to contain himself, but couldn’t help biting his lip at the sight of your upper thighs.

- Hm… What if I did?

- You can’t be serious… - he had already put his arms around your hips. Trevor’s hands slowly creeped up under your skirt, groping your ass in a possessive manner. He felt your smooth skin, but couldn’t find your panties until he reached closer to your pussy. You were wearing the smallest thong you owned: his favorite. - Babe, are you…

- I’m what, love?

- Are you wearing those tiny panties underneath that skirt? The ones that I like?

- I guess you’ll have to see for yourself… - you smiled and Trevor grabbed your chin.

- You’re being so naughty today, what should I do to you?

- Spank me, Trev - you asked, your lips pouting and your eyes pleading while looking up at him. You loved how tall he was.

Trev bit his lip. You could see it in his eyes (and in his pants) how much he desired you at that moment. He let go of your chin, sat down on the couch and tapped his own thigh gently.

- Get on my lap - he ordered, his voice lower than usual. You had never seen him like this. The skirt really awakened something in him.

You got on his lap as fast as you could, sort of lying on your stomach, so your ass was up and in the perfect spot for him to spank you.

Trevor gripped your hips and your butt again, harshly; then lifted up your skirt and slowly lowered your panties down to your thighs, just to get them out of the way. As he removed them, he could see a clear string of your arousal stretching until it stuck to the frail fabric of those minuscule panties.

- Oh, you’re wet already? - Trev asked, his right hand slamming against your ass. And then again and again. Those slaps would sting a little, but Trev would never hurt you. He knew how to use his force to please you without crossing the line.

You moaned, defenseless, trying to hide the grin on your face.

- Such a little whore - he bit his lip in an even more devilish way. He’d never talked dirty, that was news to you. Another slap hit your ass. - Putting on the sluttiest skirt I’ve ever seen and bending over me to give me a better view of this needy pussy.

He spanked you again, a bit harder this time. You couldn’t help but softly cry out his name and moan. He spread your legs just a bit, his index finger now reaching in between them to find your dripping pussy. He lightly touched your sweet entrance, but didn’t dip his finger in you. You shivered under his touch, wanting more than its feather light intensity.

- Do you think I should still make you cum, even after being so naughty?

- Yes - you moaned. - Please, baby… I know how much you love skirts and dresses, so I bought this one to wear just for you. So you can fuck me in it…

You shook your hips, trying to fuck yourself into Trevor’s long finger.

- One leg to each side of me - he ordered, his voice raspy with desire.

You quickly repositioned yourself, obeying him. He pulled you closer by your waist and kissed your lips hungrily, grabbing chunks of your hair, digging his short nails into your neck. You’d moan at his touch, whimpering and straddling his throbbing cock.

Trev put both his hands to your thighs, squishing them with desire. He gestured for you to raise your hips just a bit, then inserted two of his fingers into your dripping cunt. You moaned in his mouth, surprised and lustful.

- So hot and slutty with that tiny skirt, just for me - Trevor whispered into your ear, teeth nibbling on your lobes. His now slick fingers found their way to your clit, massaging it in slow, agonizingly delicate circles. He leaned in to kiss you once again.

Your eyes were rolling back in pleasure, you could barely manage to kiss him back as you moaned his name over and over, your arms around his neck for stability. You came undone shortly after, covering his fingers in your arousal, your legs shaking in uncontrollable spasms, higher moans escaping your parted lips. Trevor grabbed your face and kissed you one more time, biting your lips softly.

- On your back - he ordered, his eyes darkened as you opened your own to look at him.

You did as you were told, now sitting on the couch with your legs spread out. Trev kneeled in front of you, pulling you to the very edge of the couch. He pulled your panties all the way off, grabbing your thighs hungrily in each hand. Your skirt was still on, but all bunched up around your hips.

Without any further notice, Trevor dipped his head in between your legs and tasted you with his tongue. Your arousal, abundant, coated his lips almost immediately. He licked around your entrance, dipping his tongue in your hole for a second, just to feel you clench around him. You let out a soft whimper, and could hear him chuckle. As his mouth finally closed around your clit, your legs trembled in pure lust.

Even though the position would imply otherwise, Trev always felt very dominant eating your pussy on his knees. With each flick of his tongue and each soft moan you’d let out, the more his erection grew in his sweatpants. Your eyes were rolling, your legs were shaking, you were feeling that orgasm reach you slowly and deliciously, until your body finally shook in its climax pleasure. Your ears went deaf and your eyes saw stars - until they met Trevor’s hungry gaze.

He dipped his fingers in your pussy and curled them in.

- So wet and warm - he whispered, delighted. - It will be such a delight to cum inside your pussy today, love.

You grabbed some of his hair in your hand, guiding him to keep eating your pussy. His tongue was so fast and slick, he was savoring your taste so eagerly… It was impossible not to cum again with those dark eyes glued on yours. Trevor’s gaze was hypnotizing, and he wanted to make you dismantle in pleasure. So you did.

- I love making you cum - Trevor licked his drenched lips as you gasped for air. - I could do this all day if you’d let me, princess.

- I know you have your needs too, my love - you said, motioning for him to stand up.

As he did, you carefully lowered his pants. His erection sprung free, and you took him in your mouth gently, lapping up the precum oozing from his tip. He let out a moan or two, before gesturing for you to stop.

- As much as I love how you suck my dick, baby, that skirt needs to serve its purpose, doesn’t it?

You chuckled as Trevor made you get on your hands and knees on the couch. He didn’t even lift up your skirt, just moistened his length on your arousal underneath it. His cock was thick and throbbing inside you as he slowly inserted himself into your pussy.

His thrusts were feral as he grabbed your clothed hips and slapped your ass as you moaned loudly with each movement of his. You reached for your own clit and started touching yourself while he thrusted, making yourself cum again in a couple minutes. Trev slid himself out of your clenching pussy and saw some thick white fluid splayed over his shaft.

- Did you just cream on my cock, baby love, yeah? - Trevor grabbed your neck softly. - Did you cream your delicious pussy all over me?

You could barely talk back. Your skirt was already covered in your fluids, your ass was red from Trevor’s spanking, and only one thing was running through your mind.

- I need you to fill me up, Trev - you moaned, your head spinning from such pleasure. - I need you to cum deep inside my pussy, love… Then we’ll put our clothes back on and go out… And I’ll have your cum dripping down my legs for the rest of the day… please…

- Do you want your pussy to be leaking with my cum, baby girl? - he slapped your ass, groping it harshly afterwards. His thrusts were even faster now. - Do you want everyone to know you’re mine?

- Yes - you cried out, moaning. - Cum inside my pussy, please…

Trevor let out a few grunts and moans that made your insides twitch around his thick shaft. Soon enough, you felt his warm cum shoot inside your pussy, filling you up completely. You loved this feeling, you always felt so dominated when Trevor spilled into you.

As you two came down from your highs, Trev looked at you, a cocky smile on his face.

- So… Now you’re gonna have to keep your promise, right?

- What?

- Now you’re gonna put those panties back on and we’re going out for dinner, miss y/l/n…

You bit your lip, feeling naughtier than ever. Ugh, you loved Trevor Spengler.

[ryiju-muunie]

Juicy Juicy!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Toji Fushiguro Warnings: hookups, clubbing, age difference, ass fetish, reader has a PHATT ASS, VERY public sex, HEAVY exhibitionism, breeding kink, creampie, dry humping, grinding, size kink, Toji has a big dick, standing mating press, finger sucking, daddy kink, pet names [good girl] Word count: 2313 DESC: I keep it juicy juicy, I eat that lunch~

STOP TAKING DOWN MY STUFF TUMBLRRRRR

Your friends had convinced you to go out that night. Typically you’d stay in and wear sweatpants, sinking into your couch and watching some TV. But something about tonight was different. You wanted to go out and… let’s be blunt here, get laid. You hadn’t had sex in a while, it was customary for you to yearn to be fucked like a dirty whore. So maybe you did wear something low cut, even though your main asset was your ass. You chose a purple mini skirt that exposed a baby pink thong between your legs and on your hips. Then your top, just a purple tube top. You wanted something that could get ripped off easily. 

Walking into that club, you didn’t expect your eyes to land on the hottest man there. He was large, bigger than anyone you’d ever seen before. Muscles poking out of his wife-beater and spiky hair framing his face. A scar pulled at his smirk as his eyes met yours. He was older, older than what you’d typically go for. But that’s not what made you pause, it was the log in his pants. Those tight black jeans didn’t leave anything to the imagination. You could practically feel it from the entrance of the club. Your friends murmured something to you about getting a drink, but you didn’t care to have them repeat it clearly. 

Your mind was set. You were going to fuck him.  

Two thick legs pulled you down the dance floor, inching toward him. You turned on your heel, ass out in his direction as you began to sway. The song was something you’d never listen to on your own, but it was perfect for clubbing. All it was was an excuse to grind on people, feel their bodies and the heat that came with it. Dry-humping was hot. You couldn’t deny it. The thought of getting so close to cumming without penetration … was hot. An erection pressed to your ass, in the sea of sweaty bodies, aching to release on your skin. That’s what turned you on

You tilted your head to the side, letting layers of hair brush against your forehead. You peeked to see if he was watching, and he was. His stare was lustful, practically tearing you apart with nothing but his eyes. You could hide behind all that hair, but it wouldn’t save you from his perverted stare. Now, you needed him to come closer. A hand trailed up your side, lightly pulling at the hem of your skirt. It was short, practically a belt that left nothing to the imagination. It didn’t help, you were wet. You were just a whore who found her next meal; Who wouldn’t be wet under that stare? You could feel your thong sticking to your pussy, clinging to the crevices, and making your movements tight. If you moved the wrong way it would create a tense friction that would make your legs wobble.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna have to take you out,” a voice purred in your ear. He was behind you, a hand snaking around your waist and pressing you against his front. Your eyes fluttered closed and you let his warm touch take hold of your body. Even his scent was hot, making your head spin. It was a mix of expensive cologne and firewood, musky, sexy, and mouth-watering. 

“Oh? Maybe I want you to take me out,” a smile pulled at your lip, as you turned away your head bashfully. Your hips spoke for you, rolling lazily in a circle to the music. 

The man laughed coldly, hands directing your ass into his growing erection, “Name’s Toji.” You told him your name, gasping when one of his hands moved to your front, playing with the top hem of your short skirt, “You like ‘em older, huh? Naughty girl…” He cooed, nose touching your earlobe. Before you could respond, a wet tongue trailed from the spot where your ear and jaw connected, down to the crook of your neck. He bit down, applying pressure on your stomach to keep you in place. 

You gasped, hands on top of his, “...Tease.” You gritted, through a dazed smile, “Buy me a drink and I can show you how much I like older men, Toji,” you turned your head to the side, nose brushing against his soft hair. 

Toji pulled back from your neck, admiring the small mark he had left behind. His half-lidded eyes looked at you and nodded. But he didn’t move, slowly grinding into your plush ass. Your top teeth found your glossed bottom lip, biting down when he let out a groan. Oh, he was perverted. He didn’t care who was watching, just if he could get off. You knew from the way he carried himself, he liked to tease and prod at women, before pleasuring them with his length. And you knew, he wasn’t going to cum his pants for some simple dry humping in a club. So you gave, pressing your behind into his erection, which you could feel prominently through your skirt. He let out a gruff noise, both hands on your lower stomach. You danced to the music, at least, that’s what you disguised it as. To other people, they’d see a couple who was just handsy, but you didn’t. You knew exactly what was going on. He was teasing himself, getting a taste for you. Getting drunk off of your smell and your ass alone. 

You knew an ass man anywhere. The way his hands trailed from your front to your back, squeezing occasionally, or how tight his grip was on you, to keep your ass from leaving his clothed cock. Toji liked your bottom more than he liked your face, which you didn’t really care for. There was something you were after that was better than his hot face, his large cock. You hadn’t been fucked by someone as big as him before, and it was a curious kind of horny that took over your pussy. You longed to see a bulge from his dick form on your abdomen, growing as he pumped you with cum.

One of the man’s hands trailed up your front, squeezing your breasts before his fingers found home in your mouth. You didn’t care that you were in the middle of a club, greedily opening your mouth for them. It was hot, it was sticky, and it was sweaty. You moaned as you sucked against his digits, head leaning against his shoulder blade.

“Dirty slut… you want Daddy’s fingers so bad, huh?” He smirked, and you knew he was smirking too. One of his large legs spread yours apart, perching you on his thigh. It was wrong, to do this in the middle of a club's dance floor, but you couldn’t help it. You were throbbing, pussy lips spread in your thong. Your clit rubbed against the fabric, then on his thigh, causing you to moan through his fingers. “Good girl…” He murmured, head beside yours, “Take what’s yours, baby.” 

You started to grind against his thigh. It was awkward sure, but you didn’t care. How could you care? You wanted to be fucked stupid. Your legs spread and you bent forward, hands on your knees and mouth stuffed with his thick fingers. To anyone, it looked like you were dancing to the songs playing on the speakers, in the dim light. But you were busy trying not to moan too loudly. Pleasure shot up through your pussy, into your clit, and down your walls. Your eyes rolled back slightly, as you whimpered through a full mouth. It was only a matter of time before your slutty cunt came, staining your thong with slick cum. Toji felt you cum, and as a reward, he pulled you up by the neck. You whined and grinned, saliva trailing down your chin. 

“Little whore… Cumming from some grinding.. I’m gonna make you feel so good,” his words were honey to you. You took them in and nodded helplessly, so you followed him when he brought you to the back of the club. It was dim, lights flashing a neon pink. Couples were up against the wall, grinding and making out, so no one noticed when the two of you did the same. Although, it was different. His hands pulled your skirt up, your legs around his hips, and his fingers spreading apart your pussy in your thong. You gasped and gave into the touch, rolling your hips to get any sort of friction. It was pathetic how easily you unraveled for a man twice your age, but you didn’t care. It was sweaty, it was gross, it was nasty, but it was hot, it was arousing, it was godly. 

“Take ‘em off,” Toji uttered, letting go of you and letting your legs hit the ground. You nodded and did as he said, taking off your pink thong and admiring how wet it had become. The man grabbed it and stuffed it in your mouth, not giving you time to react as you were picked up again. Legs pressed above your head, you both were going to get caught, but you didn’t care. It was a kind of mating press, but up in the air. You cried through a stuffed mouth, as his pants fell. He held you up by pressing his front against yours, one hand supporting your ass and the other dealing with the erection in his jeans. You didn’t get a chance to see it, but you got a chance to feel it. 

You looked down as he aligned his tip with your folds, grinning as he groaned, “So tight…” How was no one catching on? But you didn’t have time to care, as he thrust into you. Both of Toji’s hands were on your knees, well under them, holding you up. Think of it like this, a full Nelson but in reverse, so you were facing him. A standing mating press, with your knees bent instead of up in the air. 

His dick slid into you with ease. Such a slut, you didn’t need time to adjust, even though you were tight. You were plush and clenching just for him. Your stomach bulged, just as you hoped. A moan flew out of your mouth and you leaned your head back. It was hitting every spot. Being so big, you were getting off from no friction at all, just the feeling of his dick in you was enough. But then Toji started to thrust, pulling out ever so slightly then snapping his hips, forcing himself back into you. You gasped, eyes widening. It hurt, it hurt so good. You were being stretched out in ways you loved, in ways you hadn’t before. Such a greedy whore you were, whining through your underwear-stuffed mouth. You could taste yourself on your tongue as he plunged into you, your walls clinging onto him making it hard for him to pull out. Plush, soft, spongey, better than any sex toy he could have purchased. 

“Fuck… pretty pussy for a pretty slut,” Toji’s eyes closed, his face resting against your neck. Your arms rose and swung around his back, digging painted nails into his shoulder blade. He moaned, thrusting in you with such velocity you couldn’t handle it. Spit dribbled down your chin, more so than earlier. Your tongue threatened to hang out, but it was blocked by the thong forced down your throat. But your eyes said enough. He was rubbing all those perfect, sensitive areas, making them unfocus and cross. Something out of a porno, your moans muffled but high-pitched for him. For him and his large cock. You wanted the man to pump you full of his semen, and make you a pretty little mommy. You would be such a pretty mommy. You whined at the thought, hips grinding against his cock.

“I’m gonna…” he groaned, pulling back to look at you. With beads of sweat forming at the base of his forehead, “I’m gonna cum…” You nodded quickly, giving him all the permission in the world. 

Who cared if he fucked you this loudly in public? No one had caught you yet. You almost forgot because of how good it felt, waves of pleasure rushing through your pussy and into your insides, making you clench around his dick. It was a few more seconds before he moaned again, signaling he was becoming closer. You needed it. You needed him to fuck his cum into your cunt and make you writhe in it, make you bathe in it. Fill you up so good you could feel it in your throat. Fucking your cervix and making you pregnant. Making you a good little mommy for your daddy, huh? You tried to speak, to moan, but it was cut off when he came inside you. Ropes splattered against your walls and your back arched. It felt so good to be filled up, you hadn’t been used as a cum bucket in so long. You wanted it so bad you unraveled too, spilling all along his dick with your filthy cream. Toji fucked you through his high, groaning and moaning into your ear as he came. Spurts of cum traveled inside you and made your legs shake. It was so good, it was so warm. You just wanted to sit there with it inside you and let it fester for hours, relishing in the warmth. 

You two didn’t even notice the security guard behind Toji until he tapped the man’s shoulder, “Uh excuse me?” You glanced over at him, a spit-covered thong hanging from your mouth, “You two are going to have to leave the premises.”

Toji blinked a few times and looked over at the security guard, “Sorry. This isn’t the first time this has happened, hah.” 

[hazelfoureyes]

Angel’s Alastor

「Warnings/Promises: Angel x Alastor, bondage, rutting into beds, rutting into pants, Alastor keeps his dick in those pants, kisses, smooches, tentacle fucking, masturbation, cum eating implied??, karaoke reference」

Angel imagines Alastor is his co-star in a naughty film. Luckily he has just the toy to help him get into the scene.

MinoRS DNI 👨🏻‍🏭🙅🏻

The offer to fuck on camera was partly a joke and partly an invitation.

Angel had the ability to later say it was just self deprecating humor to even allude to wanting to fuck Alastor. The radio demon. The strawberry pimp.

What a laugh, Tall Dark and Creepy? Famously, whether he had a term for it or not, disinterested in sex?

When he stopped to think about, watching Alastor sip a whiskey and stare off into the void, what would that even look like?

Sex with Alastor, that is.

Angel watched his mouth part and peeked at his tongue. He sure did talk a lot, maybe his tongue had some skill. Wagging all day made for a strong muscle.

And he was strong. Not a hunk by any measure but he could tear apart airships and summon minions with a snap. Kinda hot. Power always added a level of attractiveness. 

Alastor’s ears … twitched. Perhaps a bug had landed on one. Angel’s head tilted a little as his eyes followed down Alastor’s long neck. Did he have chest fluff to match the ears? His happy trail… red? Black? What about his backside? A little tail?

Hooves…. Angel could take them or leave them. But he lingered at the calves and arms. Where he knew the black faded into the tan pallor of his face.  Did his cock fade too? A gradient Angel could squeeze and try to feel through his skin.

“What about you, Angel?”

“Oh fuck, I totally zoned out and forgot we were … we were doin’ something. Sorry Charlie.”

Charlie’s fingers templed, “We were having a conversation. About how you think redemption is going?”

Angel blinked away the tingle up his spine as Alastor’s attention turned to him, “Yeah that sounds great, sign me up okay? I’m headed out,  I gotta go for a walk or some shit.”

It was ‘some shit.’

A couple drinks, a few rounds of karaoke, and a quick make out session with a very generous stranger and Angel found Alastor had disappeared entirely. Until he curled into his bed to let the spinning room rock him to sleep.

And he wondered…

If Alastor was one of the guys in his shoots. The big bad who kidnapped him….

Angels arms were tied behind his back—

No, Angel stopped, Alastor would never go through the motions of tying someone up.

Angel's arms were held above his head and behind his back by writhing and curious black tentacles. A dark and smoky room, Alastor standing pretty as his shadows did all the work. 

“I’m going to need your cooperation, Angel Dust.”

Angel struggled, “Not a chance. Val would kill me and he’s a lot scarier than you.”

“Now now, you’ve barely let me explain the details.” Alastor took four swift and long strides to be within touching distance. “You report back what the Vees discuss. No theft, no clandestine recording devices.”

Alastor had to look up to meet Angel’s indignant gaze. 

“And what’s in it for me?” A smirk. 

“That depends, what do you want?” Alastor’s clawed hand touched his hip, “Anthony.”

Angel peeled off his shorts and vest. He’d found a fun narrative, one he wanted to see through. A hand wrapped around his still half soft cock and began gentle tugs.

“You don’t have what I want.” Angel bit his lip. He watched the radio demon’s brow arch, a challenge. “So why don’t you stop playin’ and either let me go or get your dick out.”

A laugh he’d heard a hundred times before bouncing off the walls he hadn’t bothered to imagine, “Dirty mouth for an ‘angel’.”

“Oh you don’t even know the half of what my mouth can do.” His tongue rolled out and beckoned Alastor closer, “And I ain’t no angel.”

His dark eyes stayed calm as new appendages began ripping off Angel’s clothes. “Oh that’s right. Angel Dust. You’re a drug. Cheap and addictive.”

“Aww and I thought you didn’t watch my movies!”

“I have no interest in filth.”

“You sure ‘bout that? Seem interested enough in  me.”

“You, Anthony, are not filth.” Alastor’s hand slid down Angel’s stomach, past his erection and balls. “You are art best seen up close. Intimate viewings only. Where patrons can take their time to admire the details.”

Alastor’s fingers pressed gently at Angel’s puckered hole. 

Angel tried to slow the prodding of his now lubed fingers at his entrance. Alastor would be frustratingly slow. But he wanted Alastor to rush in, to hurt him a little. But then why even think of him? Anyone could do that. Everyone does do that.

Alastor’s middle finger slipped in. Angel wanted a kiss, wanted anything more but the overlord didn’t allow him any movement.

A second finger. Quick and sloppy thrusts, poor preparation but more than some. A third finger, Angel moaned Alastor’s name. 

Once he started he couldn’t stop, “Alastor. Alastor. Alastor!” Every time he said it louder it made his fingers feel like they could truly belong to Alastor. Leaking and fully erect, his dick was pulsing in reply.

“Oh fuck, Alastor. I know you have more for me. Come on, daddy.” Angel’s ass was rocking against those quick fingers. “Gimme more. Ya can’t break me.”

A wicked grin, Alastor’s free hand coming to rake through Angel’s chest fluff, “Oh, I absolutely can. But, luckily for you, I’m not interested in seeing you in pieces.”

Three fingers slipping in and out with slicked ease, Angel rummaged in his side drawer feeling around for the shape he was seeking. Tongue out with concentration until he felt the little bumps and the curve he needed. 

He’d rarely used the tentacle dildo, but suddenly it seemed like a very convenient purchase. The tip was so thin, the base so wide. 

From point a to b, Angel lost track of the storyline. He just needed to skip ahead, quick fingers to hungry tentacles working in time with the real life toy. A taper that allowed Alastor to reach deeply but still stretch his hole with enough burn to keep Angel’s attention on where they connected. Could Alastor feel him? How much was he able to sense through his shadow appendages?

His face didn’t let on, no slip of what he was feeling. 

Angel’s soul was his own when outside of Val’s studio, time he’d happily sell to Alastor to see the man so much as break a sweat. But he could, at least in his head.

“Would it kill ya to kiss me?” Angel wished he could hide his need better but even in his dreams he was melting for a chance to feel Alastor. Skin to skin, wet warmth anywhere on him. “I could make ya see stars behind your eyelids.”

A hum, hand slipping up his neck and to his jaw, “Dear I don’t need to close my eyes to see a star.” Angel held his breath as Alastor leaned in, a slow tilt of his head threatening to pull another moan from him. His eyes closed and he waited for that feeling of soft lips against his.

And he waited.

With a huff he opened his eyes to complain about the hold up, but his words got caught in his throat when he saw the expression on Alastor’s face. Knitted brows and heated cheeks, he’d never seen such a needy look.

A look that twisted back to its usual smirk when a thrust into Angel pulled a shocked whine from the spider demon. Even in his dreams he would be made to beg. 

“Do ya want my help or not?” His voice was huskier than before, struggling to keep his reactions to a minimum. 

“Oh? A kiss is all it costs? There’s the cheap part.”

“And I’ll show ya the addictive part if ya hurry up already.” Maybe Alastor was loosening the restraints, maybe Angel was just adept at escapes, but he managed to pull a hand free. 

Grabbing hold of the smaller demon by the ear he pulled Alastor into a kiss. 

Another moan. He felt the heat of the blush reaching his own ears; it was just a kiss. But it made him twitch at the idea. Even as the long black toy bottomed out, his mind was on the ghostly pair of lips he could almost feel. 

Like a man with time to kill, Alastor didn’t let Angel slip his tongue in until he heard the hunger in his breaths. And as Angel’s tongue reached deeper into his mouth, so did the tentacle in him. His knees began shaking, finally both holes full of Alastor. 

Angel’s tongue danced behind his teeth, going through the motions. He wanted more friction. Rolling onto his stomach, Angel began rutting into his bed. 

Alastor pulled him close, grinding his crotch into Angel’s leaking cock. Every roll of his hips pulled a gasp from the porn star.

“You're gonna get your pants all dirty.” Angel’s mouth left Alastor’s long enough to comment but Alastor’s leaned back and out of reach when he tried to return.

“Hmm, I’ll have to make you lick them clean after.”

Angel’s head fell back, he gripped the toy with five fingers around the base and pumped it in and out. Every return to his tight heat seemed to stretch him a little wider, prod new depths no dick had ever managed to reach before.

If it wasn’t Alastor, he’d be scared. But the two hands holding his hips in place as his precum was smeared into the overlord’s pants felt like a safety net. Alastor wouldn’t go too far. He was a master at pushing limits and that was it.

Angel’s mouth hung open, drool sliding down his chin as his hips picked up speed. A hand came between his legs and began stroking his shaft. He wanted to cum.

He needed to cum. He dropped his head back down and let his free hand slide across the lapels of Alastor’s suit.

Twisting the toy, he hit it.

“There!! You’re hitting my spot. Don’t stop.” Angel’s body shook. The radio demon grabbed him gently by the neck and gave a testing squeeze. 

Angel’s hand tightened slightly on his throat. Just enough to make the pressure in his head become noticeable. 

“Alastor please, I’m close. Don’t stop, don’t ya dare fuckin’ stop,” his slit was sliding across the precum soaked fabric. It was rough, but made him cry as he grew harder and more sensitive. “Gonna cum soon.”

His cock was still rubbing into his silky blanket despite his hand’s direct help. He pulled a throw pillow into his mouth and screamed. Every ounce of his brain’s focus went to his dick and caused his hand to slow the thrusts into himself.

He was pulled into a breath stealing kiss. With Alastor’s mouth on him again, exhales across his skin, Angel came with a cry. Alastor’s tentacle buried deep in him as his cock pulsed lines of semen across the demon's pants.

Angel‘s hips kept thrusting, smearing his seed into the blanket and across his knuckles. He took his hand off the toy and let the spasms of his twitching hole push it out and back onto the bed. 

Alastor’s tongue swiped up Angel’s lips. He didn’t stop rubbing his lap into the groaning demon even as his tentacles all withdrew. Angel fell to his knees before long and thin fingers pulled his chin up.

“Now, lick.”

༻Masterlist༺

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon n , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

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[brucewaynehater101]

DC Santa is a troll so when he knows he's going to die and he sends his powers to the young heroes he knows he's about to traumatize, he tweaks things just a little, he's got the time after all, he goes all over the world in a night, the comet is in slow motion to him, not that he'd move, and these little chaotic gremlins have been so good despite everything life has thrown at him and he really owes them quite a backlog of gifts

While Santa may go to apocalypse every year, he goes nowhere near Gotham

To Tim, Tim knows everyone's deepest desire with a look, this ability is especially effective in December. Tim becomes the master of picking out the best holiday and birthday presents

Cassie can speak and understand ALL the languages she comes across

People now automatically have some level of trust towards Greta, know that she's a nice person who would protect them to the best of her ability, had she stayed in the superhero community, she would have attained dick grayson levels of trust among the other capes

Kon has a sense of who's on the naughty list and who's on the nice list, makes it easier to steer away from creepers now who would take advantage of him since it's not like he has a grown up to help him figure that out

Bart is even faster and yet his metabolism is evened out a bit, he's less desperately hungry all the time, can get away with just snacks instead of eating an entire all you can eat buffet, though he's still capable of that, and he has even more of a sweet tooth than before

Slobo is capable of lifting even more than Lobo, the sort of strength and balance one would need to carry a sack filled with presents for the world, or the universe

Anita gets a knack for Christmas magic, the little illusions that bring a little extra joy to a person's life and when she and Tim collaborate they find they can put into motion butterfly effects, tiny actions that cause huge, joyous results, and Anita's gingerbread houses never rot

Cissie gets the anonymity, there are so many Santas but no one could ever tell you which one is real, in the future she never has to worry about someone connection her heroic past to her civilian present, except for her friends of course

I love this AU/hc so much, and how you included more than just the core four for it.

For Tim, I know he's absolutely using that power of his for no good. He uses it to make villains (and some Bats) cry when he mentions or even gets them their deepest desire. I am curious if the deepest desire is only for physical stuff or for the unattainable too (like I bet Dick would love to do a Flying Graysons routine with his parents one more time).

I love Cassie's cause she probably freaks the JL out when she starts speaking thr same dialect of an alien species no one has even heard of before.

Greta's is perfect. I hope she finds lots of use for it in her retirement. I would love a spin off of her just utilizing that power when she goes to college, gets a job, etc.

Kon's makes me want to cry. It's amazing for him, but the reasoning is so sad. I hope YJ is able to help him and that he's better able to take care of himself with this.

I like to imagine Anita's parents/kids looking up to her in amazement as her gingerbread house still stays standing after 5 months.

I'm glad Bart has more choice in his need to eat. Tim probably helps him by buying lots of food, but it's nice that Bart, in this AU, doesn't have to constantly be eating as much.

I don't know as much about Slobo (which is a damn right shame), but it seems DC did him dirty (something about him slowly dying and then sacrificing himself???). Anyways, I hope his strength helps him feel more reassured with himself and confident. I hope he can use it to uplift those he cares about.

Cissie's sounds great. There's tons of stories about the price of fame being a lack of privacy. With this, maybe she'll be able to have a normal life as well

[kuroneko1815]

Dress up day, Birthday boy

All Reynold wanted for his birthday was to spend time with his adorable little niece. He thought of the chubby round cheeks and pudgy hands of the empire’s only little princess, she was mischief incarnate, his compatriot in chaos, the vengeance dealt to the thieving dragon emperor who had stolen his sister. Yes, little Judith was the one person the emperor never stood a chance against. He had seen his brother-in-law argue and fail against Penelope, but the man could never say anything or look angry in the face of his daughter. Not that anyone but Penelope could anyway.

His sister was the only one who could control the little hellion he’d trained, the hell spawn husband she’d chosen, and the whole of the imperial court as an extension. Often bringing two of the three to tears, mostly the courtiers who piqued the Emperor’s anger, or the Emperor himself, rarely so, Judith when she’d been particularly naughty. The courtiers often preferred their metaphorical tears of blood form her scolding rather than the literal blood bath that the Emperor would unleash should he be left to deal with the court on his own, which he had been before he’d married Penelope.

“Unca!” The little princess said happily as he’d finally made it to her playroom.

“Your highness!” He said happily as he lifted the little girl that ran into his arms. He spun around, letting the upper half of her body fall through as she laughed.

“Happy Birfday!” She said when they had stopped spinning, still in his arms. “Come pway wif me!”

Reynold nodded. “That’s why I’m here.” He agreed easily.

“I wanna pway wif daddy and Win-win.” She decided.

“Why do we need them?” He asked. “I’m plenty fun all by myself.”

“No!” Princess Judith said stubbornly. “I wanna pway wif them!” She looked at him with big red eyes starting to water, her lower lip stuck out ready to cry.

“Yes, yes, let’s go get them, shall we?” He said immediately as he took off down the hall with his niece in his arms.

-

-

Emperor and mage secured, they all sat down around the little table that was in the playroom as they had a little tea party. “More tea, daddy?” She asked as she poured the sweet tea into the little porcelain child sized tea cups that Penelope had given her the day before.

“I would love some more, Princess.” The Emperor sipped the tea unabashed. There was a knock on the door as the maids entered with a few parcels.

“Here are the items you asked for, Princess.” The maids said deferentially as they bowed.

Judith grinned. “Fank you!” She said. “Please call mommy!”

“As you wish.”

When it was just the four of them again, Judith got up and ran to the parcels. “Dress up time!” She declared as she opened the packages and revealed… maids dresses, large ones.

“For daddy, Unca, and Win-win.” She said.

They all shared the same looks of horror as they tried to deny it. But alas, the power of her eyes and her tears was too much for them and they all gave in within a minute.

-

-

“Ahh, pwetty!” She said happily clapping as she gave them certain things to hold. For the Emperor, she gave him a bouquet of flowers, for the Marquis, it was jewelry for him to wear, and for Reynold himself, a box filled with chocolates. “Mommy will be so happy. Maybe no more crying?” She said thoughtfully.

“Penelope has been crying?” He asked sharply.

The emperor looked at him, face serious. “Don’t jump to conclusions when your fancifully empty brain will no doubt lead you. Ask her yourself.” He said as he tugged at the ribbon on their neck or whatever it was. Just as he’d said that, Penelope walked in, slightly red eyed.

“Baby…” She paused as she took them in and burst into laughter. Marquis Verdandi crouched down and his face. Reynold grumpily opened the box of chocolate only for more than half of it to tumble down.

The emperor walked towards her and handed her the flowers, unmindful of the shameful clothes they’d been forced to wear. He pulled her in close and Judith ran to them and hugged her as well. “No more sad, mommy. No more cry!” She demanded.

“Yes, yes Judy. Though it’ll be hard. You’ll always be there to make me laugh right?” She said as she burst into another fit of laughter at the sight of them. “I’m impressed she got all of you to do it.”

“Can you blame us? There’s no saying no to her. I don’t know how you do it.” Reynold said as he pulled at the dress in disdain.

“Easily.”

The emperor stroked her head. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, though I suppose you know my emotions will be all over the place for the next few months just like it was with Judy.” Penelope replied as she leaned into his hand.

“Huh?” Reynold asked looking between the two. “Just like with Judy?” He thought back to when Penelope was moody and could only think of one that related to his niece. “Are you pregnant again, Penelope?”

“Your majesty.” The emperor reminded him firmly.

“Are you pregnant again, your majesty?” Reynold amended begrudgingly.

Penelope smiled at him. “Yes, I am.”

Reynold cheered. “Did you hear that, Judy?” He called out to the little girl who was now happily in her mother’s arms. “You’re going to be a big sister!”

“Big sister?”

“Yes, there’ll be a baby in a few months?”

“Like my dolly?”

“Like that but soft and squishy and someone you can play with.” Reynold told her.

Judith cheered along with him. “Hooray, baby!” Judith cheered and Reynold joined her, taking her from the Empress’ arms as they danced about the room. He could see the Marquis flee from the commotion as he used his magic to hide himself, his clothing in hand but he didn’t care.

The emperor and empress made their way to the door, the empress had the emperor’s own clothes in her arms while he had merely draped his mantle over the dress. Before Penelope was fully out the door she paused and turned back. “Oh and happy birthday, Reynold.”

And then the door shut closed but not before he heard the emperor say, “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love. Is that right?”

“It is.”

But he paid it no mind. He’d forgotten, in the whole commotion of Judith’s dress stunt and the announcement of a new niece or nephew, that it was his birthday today. What a wonderful day. He couldn’t wait to rub it into father and Derrick’s faces that he knew this before they did.

[becca-e-barnes]

As a romantic, sentimental shit, I decided to add a little spin off to the Moving In series.

While I'm not a huge fan of Christmas, Christmas Eve always felt really special to me. Christmas Eve traditions in our family have changed a lot over the years but I'm really excited to start my own! I've been trying to imagine what my perfect Christmas Eve would be like next year and it'd be pretty damn close to this.

If you celebrate it, have a lovely Christmas tomorrow! If you don't, I hope you have a wonderful day!

There's no way to keep the cat off the twinkling fairy lights on the tree. You've tried every trick the internet could offer but nothing stops her; except her own sleepiness.

After a long afternoon fighting the lights (and losing), she's curled up in the armchair, peacefully sleeping.

The tree is safe.

For now.

"Your fluffy murderer is asleep." Bucky hums contentedly, pulling you impossibly closer to him on the sofa.

"Good." It's about time. Even the TV playing Olaf's Frozen Adventure doesn't seem to be disturbing her and she loves that movie.

You're surprised the heat hasn't knocked Bucky out yet. Between your body heat, the matching pyjamas you're both wearing and the glowing embers of the fire, you're surprised he's not asleep too.

"What's Santa bringing tomorrow?" Bucky teases, running his hand from your hip to your waist, slipping his hand under you top and letting it rest there.

"I don't know! Hopefully the stand mixer I asked for... Maybe some baking supplies... Some cat treats maybe." You smile at the thought and feel Bucky laughing against your back.

"That cat of yours has not made it onto the Nice List, sweetheart. No chance. Santa won't be visiting her." His lips are curled into a smile as they drift from your collar, up the back of your neck.

"She's been good the rest of the year. She's only been naughty since I put the tree up." You feel like you have to protest on her behalf, even though you know Santa will be bringing her plenty of cat treats.

"So there's hope for you too then if that's how Santa works. If he excuses short bursts of naughtiness, you might still make it." His hand trails its way back to your hip, slipping just under the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

"I've been good this year and you know it!" You tease, pressing your ass back against him.

"Oh see no, this is naughty." Bucky corrects you, kissing your neck with a little more pressure.

"I don't think so. You seem to like it so this is me being nice." You wiggle your ass against the front of his pyjamas, enjoying the evidence of his interest.

"Don't argue sweetheart, that'll put you firmly on the Naughty List." He knows you hate reasoning like that.

"Well, if you've been so good this year, what's Santa bringing you?"

There's a short pause but the kissing over your neck doesn't stop.

"I don't know... I don't need anything." He didn't ask you for anything for that same reason. "I have everything I need here."

"That's gross. Grow up." You know he can't see the way that made you smile so you're free to affectionately bully him for saying it.

"You're so right." He laughs, somehow shuffling even closer to you.

"I'm sure if I got down on my hands and knees in front of the tree and looked right in at the back, I could find a gift with your name on it." You go back to rubbing your ass against his crotch, tempting him to escalate.

"Sweetheart, that view alone would be enough of a gift." He's got a special way of making you feel like a temptation, without ever objectifying you. God, he's wonderful. "But I want to see that pretty face. I want to lay you down under your tree and unwrap my gift properly."

"Unwrapping your gift early will put you on the Naughty List!" You try to feign disgust at the very suggestion but really, that's all you want.

"Then I'll be the happiest man on the damn Naughty List this year." He laughs, scooping you up and laying you down on the plush carpet.

"You're more of a terror than the cat." You giggle before his lips are pressed to yours, kissing you with an intensity you really quite enjoy. His tongue slips past your lips, rubbing against your own and it's almost dizzying to start so intensely.

Your fingertips dig into his broad, muscular back and shoulders. It's easy to let need cloud your brain and he doesn't seem to mind as he sheds his pyjama top.

"We aren't matching anymore." You smile, reaching for the bottom of your own top, pulling it off in one swift motion.

"Excuse me. You're unwrapping my present for me." Bucky pretends to be horrified but your decision has its perks. He's now got full access to your breasts and it's like Christmas came early for him.

He wastes no time, sucking and kissing and licking your breasts. His tongue flicks over your stiff nipples, enjoying the way the sensation makes you squeal and writhe under his mouth.

"Bucky... Please." You whine after a while, desperate for him to move on.

"Someone's needy." Bucky smiles, raising an eyebrow before he reaches down to remove the bottom half of your pyjama set.

Fuck, he's not wrong. His fingertips trail against your sex, checking to see whether you're as aroused as you sound and he's almost surprised to find you are.

"God, you're so wet. I'm going to make this pretty little pussy gush for me." He slips a thick finger into you, followed by a second and he's thrilled to realise you'll be able to take him already. He can take the edge off for you now and then take his sweet time licking his own load out of your fluttering cunt once he's given you what you need.

"Please." You whimper, noticing he's offered you nothing awfully useful. He hasn't curled his fingers to stroke your walls, he hasn't moved at all actually.

"I wanted to take my time with you." Bucky begins, removing his fingers and taking off his pyjama bottoms. "But that's not what you want right now, is it?"

You shake your head, giving in to your own desperation freely, knowing he'd want you to be honest.

"That's okay, sweetheart. Let's take good care of you." The residual heat of the fire warms your bare skin as Bucky arranges your thighs, settling himself between your legs.

"Good girl." Bucky hums, dragging his thick, bare cock through the evidence of your arousal, coating himself in the slick mess between your legs. "So pretty for me."

He watches the way your body accommodates him so willingly and your whines remind him not to keep you waiting.

His thick, leaking tip presses to your entrance and the feeling of him sliding into you is breathtaking. It always is.

Both of you stop breathing for a few short seconds until he's slid the whole way home, buried as deep inside you as your bodies will allow.

"Hey, look at me." Bucky whispers, holding the side of your face gently with one hand, making you realise you'd closed your eyes.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He begins to pull back slowly before pressing back in, setting a slow rhythm.

If feels wrong not to tell him the same. It's wrong not to tell him how wonderful you think he is. It's not fair to let the moment pass without mentioning that you love getting to do this with him and be vulnerable but still feel safe. You love having him in your space and spending time together and getting to enjoy these tender, intimate moments at the most random of times. But those aren't thoughts for now. Those are thoughts for when you're both fully satisfied and cuddling together, breathless and tired and entirely aglow on this same carpet later this evening.

That feels right.

"You are the most incredible man I've ever met." You reply instead, tugging gently on his soft, dark hair to pull him into a kiss.

You hear him groan against your lips, offering the same intensity as before. He speeds up his thrusts to match his mouth, sliding in and out of you with purpose and a delightful need to spill his release into you as he's coaxing yours from you.

"Play with yourself." His instruction is clear and driven by his own need. He needs to feel you cum before he can allow himself to do the same and his orgasm really seems to have snuck up on him.

Your hand slips between your bodies with a practiced ease, finding the little bundle of nerves between your legs, rubbing it in tight circles.

"Good girl. Fuck, I wish you knew how you feel. So wet and soft and warm." He hasn't taken his eyes off your face and that only lets you see how pleasure is evident all over his. He's almost overwhelmed and it's so lovely to watch.

"Fuck, I'm so close." You whine, begging him not to change a single thing. Not his pace, not his angle, nothing. This is perfect.

"Cum for me, sweetheart. Go ahead, I'm right behind you. I've got you."

The release is all consuming for a good few seconds, your body fluttering and twitching, milking Bucky's from him and he so willingly gives it to you. He groans gentle praises as he works both of you through your highs, taking every ounce of pleasure he can get from you while giving you as much as possible.

When your peak and his have both subsided, he slips out of you, giving himself a second to catch his breath.

"If you weren't on the Naughty List before, you definitely are now." You giggle, kissing his forehead repeatedly.

"I'm just getting started." He smiles, kissing your lips before moving down your body to kiss between your thighs.

[seventeenytiny]

Elevator Troubles

Smut: Minors DNI

You and Jisung get it on in the elevator after it breaks down. Contains: Public sex, oral (male receiving), I guess exhibitionism, cum fetish but not really but also kinda. Word Count: 1544 Author’s Note: Okay so maybe I’m really into public sex. Also, when I got stuck in an elevator it was way less sexy :(

At this point in your day, getting stuck in the elevator wasn’t even the worst part. At least you weren’t alone in there, you had your lovely boyfriend by your side to help keep you calm. Honestly, he freaked out more than you at first, but hey what’s the worst that can happen? If anything this moment was a blessing in disguise, the two of you can shut off the world around you. Anything that happens outside those elevator doors is completely out of your control, so what’s the point of stressing about it? 

Your friends were waiting for you right outside the doors, they knew you two were in there. You yelled to them through the doors, letting them know you were stuck as the cellphone connection was quite spotty in the elevator. You then hit the emergency call button, unfortunately, the person on the other side of the call wasn’t very helpful, telling you to simply just hit the “Open Door” button like Jisung hasn’t mashed that button twenty times by now. 

You call back out to your friends, “Hey are you guys out there? Can you maybe call the building management to let them know we’re in here?”

And that’s what they did, and then they informed you it would probably be at least an hour before the maintenance guy would show up. You and Jisung shared a look and sighed loudly, slumping up against the elevator wall. You called out one last time to your friends telling them to leave and that you’ll catch up with them later. There was no point in making more people wait around for the elevator to get fixed.

You look over to Jisung, wrapping your arms around him to hug him, “You know, if I’m going to get stuck in an elevator I’m glad it’s with you.”

Jisung kisses the top of your head, “Well if wanted we could do something to help make the time pass.” He smirks at you, wiggling his eyebrow before grabbing your ass. 

You laugh in response, “Jisung, there’s probably a camera in here...”

He’s a bit surprised by your response, to him, it didn’t sound like you completely rejected the idea. “Look around, do you see one? Because I don’t. Anyways, if there is one, why not give the guy watching it a little show?”

You bite your lip, slightly hesitant about the idea but you can’t deny how much the thought of it turns you on. How naughty would that be, getting fucked in the elevator by your boyfriend where you could be caught at any moment. You decide to proceed cautiously, pressing your lips onto his. 

He kisses you back, hands gripping your hips as he slides his tongue into your mouth to deepen it. Your hands reach up to his hair, grabbing and pulling at his locks as the two of you continue to make out passionately. Jisung pulls away only to attach his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin. Tiny moans slip past your lips, you can feel your face become hot and red from embarrassment.

“Don’t be shy angel, anyone who can hear those precious sounds you make out there should consider themselves lucky.” 

He places a chaste kiss on your lips, “You know that if you aren’t comfortable with this we can stop.”

His eyes were pure and twinkling as he said that, it always made your heart melt at how caring he was of you. You smile and nod, “I wanna keep going.”

And just like that, he was back to attacking your neck, his hands exploring your body overtop of your clothes. He spins you around, your back against his chest, allowing him to grind into your ass as he licks and nips your neck. One of his hands goes up to your chest, squeezing your breasts, the other going under your skirt and between your legs. He draws light circles on your clit, relieving some of that pressure that’s been building up down there for you. 

No longer holding back, you moan from the stimulation, turning your head to the side to try to kiss him. He stops sucking on your neck to kiss you, allowing you to spin back around and face him. You pull away and smirk at him, “Time to let me make you feel good baby boy.” 

You get down on your knees in front of him, giving him your best doe eyes as you unzip his pants. His hand pulls your hair back out of your face to help you have better access to his cock, he’s eager already, bucking his hips closer to your face.

You rub your hand over the bulge in his underwear, a wet spot of precum forming on his boxers.

“Don’t tease me, angel, please...” Jisung begs, his brows furrowed in frustration.

Realizing how limited you may be on time you decide to dive right in, freeing his cock from his boxers and giving it a couple kitten licks before taking him in. He groans out from the sudden contact, his hands pulling your hair as he ruts his hips into your face. Jisung was always so needy, so desperate to feel pleasure, he struggles to control himself around you.

He takes control as he thrusts in and out of your mouth, fucking your face. You moan around his cock, your muffled sounds send chills down his spine. He’s getting close, too close, he can’t cum just yet. He pulls out of your mouth and roughly turns you around, wasting no time pulling your panties down and flipping up your skirt. He shoves you up against the elevator wall, his tip eagerly teasing your entrance.

“Are you ready for me angel?” Jisung asks, his voice deep and husky.

“Yes Jisung, please stretch me out.”

He doesn’t hesitate after hearing your words, sliding his cock into you with ease.

“You’re so fucking wet angel, do you enjoy getting fucked where you aren’t supposed to?”

No words leave your mouth as you take in the feeling of being full. Jisung doesn’t appreciate your quietness, he pulls out nearly all the way before slamming back into.

“If you want more of that I need you to use your words, angel.”

“Fuck Jisung, I love it, please give me more.”

And just like he starts going crazy, his hips snapping into yours at high speeds. The sound of skin slapping and moans fill up the tiny space, if the maintenance man is out there you’re positive he can hear what's going on.

His fast pace sends tingles all throughout your body, your brain goes fuzzy as you get cock drunk. 

“Jisung... mmm so good...”

“I know baby... need you to last longer, can’t let this end yet.”

You do your best to hold back your orgasm, knowing yours would trigger his and your fun would be over so soon. It was hard though, the idea of someone possibly watching through a camera, someone possibly hearing you get fucked sent bolts of pleasure directly to your core.

“I can’t last much long love, too good.”

“Then cum for me angel”.

Your body shakes and your eyes squeeze tight as that wonderful feeling washes over your body. Your heavenly sounds echo through the elevator.

You can hear Jisung’s breath hitch, a clear sign of his own orgasm taking over. His thrusts are sloppy yet fast as you both ride out your orgasms before he starts to slow down, sensitivity getting to the both of you. He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you while the two of you catch your breath. Suddenly, the lights go back on in the elevator, you had moments to clean up before the doors would open up. Jisung pulls out fast, several drops of cum hitting the floor of the elevator. You quickly pull your panties up and flip your skirt down as he puts his member back in his pants. 

The doors open just in time, the bright lights of the lobby shining on your flushed faces. Judging by the look on the maintenance man’s face, he knew exactly what happened. You look to the ground and shyly thank him as you walk out. Jisung stomps his foot onto the little bit of cum on the floor, hoping to smear it out and make it less noticeable. He follows behind you, bowing to the maintenance man as he leaves.

The two of you sigh in relief as you walk out of the building before giggles take over. You can’t believe you actually did that and got away with it. Jisung slings his arm over your shoulder as you walk towards the bar you were supposed to meet your friends at. 

He places a kiss on your cheek, “I love you angel.”

“I love you too baby.”

“I can’t believe you let me fuck you in the elevator, you liked it didn’t you”

You nod shyly, “Yeah it was actually pretty amazing.”

He chuckles, “Well for future reference I’ll fuck you wherever you want.”

You pull away from him to playfully punch his shoulder. You can’t lie though, your mind was already racing with ideas of where else the two of you could fuck.

[a-maru-writesback]

(Inspired by random videos on insta and the Caleb trailer obvs :3)

It was morning and he was coming home from an exhausting flight; tired and smelling like absolute dog shit, he set his bag on the “here live two pipsqueaks” carpet as he reached for his keys - the small apple chain met his fingers -, he smiled at the frowning little fruit, a gift from his girlfriend who had tried calling him every day - 50 missed calls, he remembered, laughing. He had expected to find her somewhere in the study with some fantasy book or in the living room all cozy with her laptop on the square arm of the sofa - reading or writing something for work. What he did not expect was to find her very giggly form hanging upside down from the stairs. Her hair falling as a cascade - and as her eyes met his, a twinkle of mischief crossed them “Welcome home - hiccup - my very own super-perfect-strong-boyfriend!” A very confused Caleb approached her carefully, his eye picking up a shiny object in the corner - two glass bottles of alcohol - rolling side to side, empty.

His eyes were observing her, squinting. ‘Naughty girl’, he thought as he amusingly fought her limbs to unhook her legs from the space between the bannisters. She was laughing and dodging as she could from his grasp.

“Pipsqueak!” His tone was stern - a similar tone to the one his superiors used on him - and suddenly she ressembled a wounded bunny, stopping completely her struggle; and his heart melted slightly -, but he needed to get her out of that position, or the stubborn girl would be feeling even worse than just the regular hangover.

On his arms, she finally seemed to calm down, playing with the straps of his jacket and staring at no particular part of him - her wandering eyes would settle on his side burn; now shorter than she remembered - his jawline sharp and masculine; and she guessed it was just part of his new self, the serious-pilot-Caleb. He had told her he was eyeing a promotion, and she was left thinking that perhaps she did not want things to change - like ever.

“C-Caleb” she sounded low as mouse, “I can walk, you know”. He lowered his head and smiled at her frown, “can you, though? I just found you hanging like a bat... maybe you would be better off flying in caves, pipsqueak.” he said, and she playfully scrunched her nose at him.

She was sitting on the fluffy toilet cover now, head spinning and index hooked in his belt loop, trying to steady herself. “Caleb-I...” she swallowed the feeling of nausea, “I don’t feel so good...”

He gave her a glass of water, “see... told you”

She slowly drank, trying not to focus on the dancing spots and swirling tiles. With a squint, she finished the drink and handed the glass back to him, “ugh”

His hands rubbed her arms, warming up her skin, “should I just put you on a leash, so you don’t go around causing chaos?”

She laughed as a hiccup hit her, “I’m not a dog, Caleb... or a bat...you giant!”

She felt much better now, being able to stand by herself, “I feel disgusting” she croaked, as she felt her own breath.

He sighed and asked her to sit again, “but I’m much better now!”

She tried to walk out of the bathroom, but he was quicker - grabbing her wrist and pulling her gently -, and the way her feet nearly missed a step told him all he needed to know - she was not okay to go on her own, even if the distance was small from the bathroom to their bedroom, “sit there and accept your punishment... or do you prefer the leash?” His pink-lavender eyes were full of playfulness.

“Ugh, okay, okay. Go ahead.” She shooed him with a lazy motion.

He had the brush and the toothpaste ready, as he faced her, “open up”, he said in a high-pitch; and she did as told. The girl looked away, trying to escape his eyes - for some reason, this type of proximity surprised her. They had been intimate before, obviously, and he had looked inside her eyes if not more intensely than this; but maybe it was a side effect of the alcohol. Something in the attention he was giving her made her heart flutter.

He smiled at her flushed state.

As he slowly massaged her teeth, he noticed her eyes begin to droop, “just a bit more”.

“Zis ‘s show shtoopit” he barked a laugh at her attempt of speaking with her mouth full of the foamy substance, “well, next time, ask yourself, would Caleb do that? Then you won’t get into these situations.” He still held her chin.

She groaned loudly, “if I asked what would Caleb do, I’d end up abandoning you for a whole month!”

And suddenly she covered her mouth, the minty toothpaste still lingering.

He eyed her, with an unfamiliar tiredness to his eyes. “Done.”

She could feel the weight of her limbs - and Caleb seemed to pick it up as well.

All it took was a small sniff from his girl for him to kneel and hold her face gently in his big hands again, “I’m sorry, baby. I know I should’ve called; sent a letter; I don’t know... sent smoke signals”, he sighed, “but it’s just been...well, it’s been hell over there and I haven’t really had downtime.”

She grabbed his sleeve, her eyes filled with tears that were about to spill, “’m sorry, my Colonel”.

He laughed softly, “hey, not yet... but I wouldn’t complain if you called me so when the time comes...”

Her fingers were still hanging on the leather, “I shouldn’t have drank... it’s just I kept seeing those documentaries of wives that lost they husbands in the military; and I kinda lost it...” she said with a slight nasal voice, followed by a broken laughter.

Husband.

He took her hand in his, “I won’t disappear; or die on you, ever”.

She hugged his neck with force and brashness, “you promise?”

“I promise” his fingers were on the back of her head, feeling the familiar texture of her locks - he had missed her so.

Then, his head recoiled, searching her eyes, “pipsqueak, who would I be without you?” But his voice did not carry that teasing tone no longer; and he brushed her cheek with his thumb, “let’s go to bed”.

He hooked his arms under her and carried his girl to the bedroom where both lied down on the mattress; hugging her, he began to share her drowsiness. It had been a long flight to Linkon City, and he could feel his mind shutting off.

Then, he noticed the sniffing on his side, “baby, what’s up? Are you feeling ok?”

She sniffed harder and said in a croaked voice, “yeah, I mean, not really... ugh”

“Come on” he poked her shoulder and offered her a tired smile, “remember our pact?”

She nodded with teary eyes, “we tell each other everything”

“That’s right!” he petted her hair twice and continued, “can you tell me what’s going through that head of yours?”

She looked up for a few seconds, “It’s just that... do you think I’m a good hunter?”

He looked at her with a puzzled expression, his full brows joined, “huh? Where did that come from, baby?”

He remembered a time back at school as he crossed the long hall - he had stopped to watch her presentation on “The Career of my Dreams” -, when she had told the entire class she would be a hunter one day, with a proud smile; and the other kids laughed at her, telling her how could someone like her make it into the tough and prestigious organization? Every year, hundreds of candidates left the gates of the examination site with defeated spirits - never to come back; well, most of them at least. She would always try, though, being a stubborn pipsqueak. It had been the third time, when she turned to him and screamed through the call, ‘I got in!’. It was the same type of expression, the same doubt of her own skills...

“If you weren’t, do you think you’d still be working with them?” He said.

She could see his logic, and yet something in her head still told her she wasn’t good enough, as her numbers had not gone up for a few months now - and she had denied an invitation from Tara for a party because the alcohol made her head go to places she did not want to go; and Caleb wasn’t home, and the documentaries...

“Come here”, he opened his arms; and she moved inside them, getting cozy in his warmth. From here, she could feel his heartbeats, and a tranquility washed over her - she would always wonder how could he soothe her with just a hug.

“You’re incredible, baby”, she said, with her eyes half-closing.

“Heh, if I couldn’t comfort my girlfriend, what kind of shitty boyfriend would I be?”

But she was already asleep as he said that; and he smiled amused, “hmm, sleep comes so easy to you, huh?” But then he remembered the nights she spent holding his hands, breathing hard, and released a breath, relieved “that’s good, baby”. He would gladly lend his chest if it meant she would sleep like that every night. The shower would have to wait until this sleepyhead was up and running with her usual morning energy.

(Sweet Boyfriend!Caleb owns my heart)

(Also, I'm back at EN VA bc I'm tired of reading subtitles)

[gurugirl]

ik it’s vvvv unrealistic but i actually can’t stop thinking abt coprry finding a time where like a holding cell is empty and no one else is around and bringing YN in just to handcuff her and fuck her in a jail cell. maybe he cuffs her to the cell bars or something and gags her so she’s extra helpless and whole time role playing that she’s in serious trouble and this is the only way to get off the hook. added bonus of the fact they’d actually get into trouble if they got caught there fr

I could actually do something quick with this one. Something just for fun. I love the idea - i'd change a few things. And yes - this is totally unrealistic but that's part of the fun...

warning: it's a little dirty below - wrote this in 20 mins. sorry for the typos and whatnot. read at your own risk. enjoy. 936 words

cop!harry masterlist

Just imagine...

You beg Harry to bring you with him on one of his night shifts when things are slow. He reluctantly says yes but warns you to be a good girl.

At the station he's got some paperwork to do and you're getting bored so you wander around until you see the holding cells. All of them are empty on that night. The room with the cells is dark as you walk through. You wonder if they often have to put people in the holding cells.

Walking into one of the holding room and it's tiny. A metal frame bed with a thin mat for a mattress. A sink. No windows. Concrete floors.

Suddenly your hands are being pulled behind your back and Harry's whispering into your ear, "I told you to be a good girl and look where I find you... you just can't help yourself can you? Always looking for trouble."

You feel the metal cuff click in place on your right wrist before Harry spins you and pushes you toward the bars at the front of the cell, making you face the door and then he takes your arms above your head and clicks the cuff around your left wrist, securing you to the metal bars in the room.

He pulled your panties down your thighs and lifts your dress up and spanks you hard. You're in shock from how quick it all happened and you can't even speak. But you do cry out when his palm has come down in a biting swing.

Suddenly your panties are yanked down your legs and Harry is pressing his front into your back and speaking into your ear again, "Nuh uh. No noises from you," as he stuffs your panties into your mouth.

You try to look over your shoulder at him but with the way your cuffed facing the bars you can't see anything except the dark hallway.

Harry unbuckles his pants and is quick to pull them down just enough to bring his raging hard boner out of the front to fuck you with. You've been naughty all day and he knew bringing you here you'd get into trouble and now he needs to fuck the brat out of you.

He doesn't even give you time to prepare but you already know what's coming when you hear him spit over his cock for lube. He kicks your legs apart and leans in to speak quietly into your ear, "You're so bad little girl. It's time to straighten you out," you feel him enter you slowly and it stings because he's so hard and so thick but you've never not loved the way he feels.

Eventually Harry begins pounding into you, his panting and grunts are getting you going as you begin to soak his cock in your arousal so he's slipping in and out with more ease.

He's is holding your hips as he paces himself into you, watching his cock disappear on each plunge and he's so close to coming. Your moan is muffled. You want to ask him to rub your clit because you're not going to come like this but you can't speak.

And Harry knows what you need. He knows your body well but you don't get to come. Not yet. He needs to rail you and come inside of you and only then will you learn your lesson.

You feel his cock twitch and throb. You can tell he's about to come. You try to push yourself back onto his cock for more friction but you wrists are locked into place and every time you push back on him it stings the skin where you're cuffed.

"Fuck... my bad little girl..." Harry's strained words come out in pants - he's close to his peak, "Wants my come inside of her womb doesn't she? Wants to carry it with her for the rest of the night. Yeah?"

You're absolutely loving every single second of his ravaging you the way he is. It hurts but you love him and you love how he feels and how mean he gets. Because you know that this means he'll be extra sweet to you later and let you come over and over again to make up for it.

Harry moans and his fingers pinch into your hips as he releases into you, his hips slowly coming to a halt as he floods your insides with his hot come.

"Styles?"

You open your eyes and see a man in uniform at the end of the hallway, slowly making his way near where you're exposed and Harry's coming deep inside of you.

Harry scrambles to pull out and tuck his still throbbing and leaking cock back into his pants.

But it's all too late. Harry's co-worker knows what you two were up to.

He chuckles and shakes his head, "Alright. Was not expecting that," you turn your head to look away out of shame as you're still cuffed to the bars with your panties in your mouth.

"Hey, uh... so I just came to look for you because you've got a call but I'll tell them you'll call back. I'll take a message."

The man shuffles off the other way and Harry takes the panties out of your mouth and takes the cuffs off your wrists.

You look at him with worry as he tucks your panties into his pocket, "Don't worry. He's not gonna say anything. He's seen way worse," he says as he guides you out of the cell by your shoulders, "Let's get back in there. And this time stay where you're told."

[lovebugism]

Hi bug, could I request some teasing modern office stevie when he definitely should be concentrating on some important reports and not the pictures you’re sending him from the bathroom 💖

ty for requesting :D — steve is grumpy at the office halloween party until you spend him naughty pictures from the bathroom (modern!au, established relationship, smut 18+, 1.6k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The company-wide Halloween party was a total bust.

Steve’s Top Gun leather jacket was cool and all, but now — eight hours into his shift — it feels slightly suffocating. It’s heavy and making him almost unbearably hot, but he can’t take it off, or his dad will lose his shit. 

Everyone had to dress up. That was the memo. It’s to boost company morale or whatever bullshit they’re spinning these days. Even the stuffy guys on the fiftieth floor are wearing their own fancy, half-assed costumes. 

Steve wasn’t much of a fan of the whole thing, especially not after he offered to match with you and you completely shut him down. “My dad already knows about us, babe!” he whined. “It’s not a big deal!”

You shot him your hardened, badass businesswoman stare that always seems to stop him in his tracks. “Your dad knowing isn’t even the half of it, Steve. I don’t want us to be the headline for office gossip for the next six months, alright?”

Going into his nine-to-five the day before Halloween, the only thing he was remotely excited about was seeing your costume. You rock a pencil skirt and blouse like you were made to do it, but fuck, he loves seeing you out of your work clothes.

And you were really fucking cute — Uma Thurman from Pulp Fiction, in one of his white button-ups, black slacks, and high heels. It isn’t overtly sexy, because it is an office party after all, but he’d stare at you all day if he could.

Screw the work, he wants to lay on the couch in your office and watch you in your element with his hand shoved down his pants.

His phone buzzes sharply beside him, knocking him out of his daydream. It’s a text notification from you — one image attachment, it reads. He’s already smiling like a teenage boy now that you’re talking to him. He’s been lonely all day without you. 

He taps the message with his thumb to open the text thread, even happier to find that it’s a picture of you.

You look like you’re in a bathroom stall — for privacy maybe, because you’re flashing him your lacy lingerie. Your blouse is unbuttoned at the top to reveal your black bra that’s mostly see-through. It’s a cup size or more too small for you, so the tops of your breasts spill slightly from the fabric. 

Don’t do this to me, he replies.

Do what? you ask.

Another picture comes right after. It’s from a higher-up angle, a much better view of your cleavage. You’re staring up at the camera with doe eyes that drive him crazy.

Steve shifts in his swivel chair, spine-tingling distantly with the subtle stiffening of his cock. He looks over both shoulders, just to make sure no one’s around to see the filth on his phone, then texts you back.

You know what, he types. Don’t start something you can’t finish.

You send him a third picture, smiling all innocent at the camera. Captioned beneath it reads, I don’t think I’m the one who needs to worry about finishing, Stevie.

Steve doesn’t bother replying this time. He clicks his phone off and readjusts his pants, rising from his desk and heading straight for the elevator.

—————

Standing at the row of pristine sinks, you wait for Steve’s response.

You knew he wasn’t having the greatest day. His dad’s been on his ass more than usual and you’re not the best at comforting him when you’re in work mode. So you step out of your comfort zone in attempts to cheer up your boyfriend, actively trying to be sexy.

But then he just leaves you on read, and now you’re spiraling in the women’s restroom.

What if he didn’t like it? your brain berates you. What if he thinks you’re trying too hard? What if he’s turned off by you?

You don’t get the chance to get embarrassed about it because Steve’s busting through the bathroom door a second later. You’re scared by the sudden intrusion, then halfway relieved, then utterly shocked.

“Steve— what are you doing in here? This is the women’s restroom!”

“Obviously,” the boy scoffs and locks the door behind him.

Your eyes are wide and wild when he turns back to face you. “What the hell are you doing?” you repeat, teeth gritted as you try your best to whisper.

His eyes sparkle with something honeyed and mischievous. He shrugs all boyish and corners you against the marble countertop. “Told you not to start something you couldn’t finish, remember?”

His palms spread wide and warm on your waist as he leans down to kiss you. You’re almost lost in him enough to let him. The logical part of your brain blares an alarm in your subconcious, and you hold him back before he can inch any further.

“No. Nope. We’re not doing this,” you announce with a shake of your head, to yourself more than anything.

Steve’s brows pinch. “Why not?”

You blink up at him for a moment, bemused by his confusion because the answer’s pretty obvious. “‘Cause we’re at work, Steven. That’s why.”

He always melts for you when you call him that.

“You’re hot when you’re mean, you know that?” he murmurs with a lopsided grin. 

He ducks down again, and you think he’s gonna kiss you. You’re about to fight him until his plush lips lock on your pulse point. You cave before you mean to, turning to marshmallow fluff in his hands. 

Steve maneuvers you onto the counter with a pair of strong hands. When he plants himself between your legs, his hard cock brushes your inner thigh. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

With a tongue tasting of nicotine and the chocolate-covered pretzels you made for the Halloween party, Steve kisses the air from your lungs. You’re happy without it. As long as it means he’ll keep touching you like he is now. 

His fingers fuss with the buttons of your shirt. He tries to kiss you and unclasp them at the same time, but realizes it’s halfway impossible. You feel each one pop pop pop when he all but rips at your collar.

“Hey— be gentle,” you scold, slurring slightly when you part from him. “I gotta work after this, you know?”

“Yeah, if I don’t take you home first.” His words are mumbled and nearly inaudible. You barely catch the last half of them because he’s burying his face in your chest. 

It’s nothing you’re not used to — he often jokes that your tits are his two favorite girls, a close second to you.

You weave your hands through his chopped cinnamon hair, keeping him pressed against you while he kisses and sucks at your breasts — over the sheer fabric of the lingerie you chose specifically for him. His tongue runs warm and wet over your clothed nipple. You fight back a shiver.

Drunk on him and his tender touches, you let him open you up with his fingers without any fuss. You let him push you to the brink of a spine-tingling orgasm and back again — only fussing a little about his teasing until he slips his cock into you.

Steve doesn’t mean to fuck you so gently in the work bathroom, but it’s in his nature to be soft with you. 

Even during quickies, he’s all but making love to you. He holds your lolling head in both his calloused palms, making sure your eyes stay on his while he punches into you. You’re pretty good at keeping your moans at bay, aside from a few measly whines he swallows when he kisses you. 

You compensate for your withheld noises by digging your nails into his shoulders. You’re pretty sure there’ll be crescent shapes in the leather of his jacket when he’s done with you.

The bathroom fills with the sounds of heavy pants, concealed moans, and the jingling of Steve’s belt buckle. He babbles sweet nothings into your neck, words slurred and muffled there. You’re not even sure he knows what he’s saying.

“It’s so good. You’re so fucking good— fuck, fuck, fuck,” he rambles, chopped through thrusts and heavy breaths. “Can’t fucking wait to show you off, you know that? Wanna tell everyone you’re mine.”

“I am yours,” you tell him, breathless and with a whimper trapped in your throat. His cock pierces you mercilessly. The pressure on your clit is relentless. “Always been yours.”

And if he wasn’t about to burst already — you tell him this, and he’s a fucking goner. His hips stutter almost instantly. His whine swells in the bathroom, mostly muffled into your neck. He spits several loads of warm cum into you and sends you absolutely gushing.

And like the gentlemen he is, he fucks you stupid and cleans you up right after.

He chucks the wet paper towel in the bin and asks you, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” you repeat, legs still hanging over the counter, tingling with numbness.

“When you— you know, when you said you were mine?”

You shrug with an air of absentmindedness. “Of course.”

“I just… We never made anything official, and I didn’t know if… I don’t know— if you were seeing someone else or whatever.”

“Your dad knows we’re fucking, so I think we’re pretty much official now,” you tease, giggling and sliding your panties back into place. You hop off the counter to put your slacks back on. Steve fusses with his belt.

“Guess so,” he laughs back.

“And I don’t plan on seeing anyone else for the foreseeable future,” you confess, smiling shyly and tilting your head to your shoulder. “Just so you know.”

Steve’s suddenly smiling, crooked and boyish and pink. “Good. ‘Cause I don’t either.”

“Good,” you hum with a similar grin.

“Good.”

He kisses you again — ‘cause he can do that now, considering you’re finally official and everything. It’s a too sweet peck compared to how sinfully he was fucking you just minutes ago. 

He pulls back from you with furrowed brows.  “Does that mean we can tell people about—”

“Absolutely not, Steve Harrington.”