#but something light and fun is over there

[faebled-stories]

The Longest Month

Kinkvember Day 30: Orgasm Control/NNN

Kiss of life Natty (Anatchaya Suputtipong) x Male reader

21.8k words

AN: Last day of Kinkvember 🥹🥹 (might be a little rough on the editing, please forgive me)

Halloween night was alive with excitement. The crisp autumn air carried the sound of laughter, music, and the occasional howl of costumed revelers. Porchlights flickered over carved pumpkins, their grins twisted and glowing, while the streets buzzed with groups hopping from one party to the next. Inside your home, though, the atmosphere was calm and quiet, a comforting contrast to the chaos outside.

Natty stood by the door, dressed casually in fitted jeans and a snug sweater, her hair tied back in a way that framed her face perfectly. She smiled as she adjusted her bag over her shoulder. "I’m heading out with the girls," she said, her tone light and cheerful. "Just a little Halloween fun, nothing wild."

You nodded, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you stepped closer, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Have fun,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. “Call me if you need anything.”

She grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before slipping out the door. The soft click of it closing behind her left the house quiet again. For a while, you settled into the stillness, content to let the evening pass uneventfully. The trust between you was implicit—Natty had always been honest, and you’d always respected her freedom.

But as the minutes stretched into hours, an uneasy feeling began to creep in. It was subtle at first, a whisper of doubt that you tried to shake off. She’d said she was with her girlfriends. There was no reason to worry. Yet the stillness of the house suddenly felt heavy, oppressive, as if something was just slightly out of place.

The buzz of your phone snapped you out of your thoughts. You picked it up, your brow furrowing as you saw the name: a friend of yours who worked as a bartender downtown. Opening the message, your stomach tightened at the words.

“Didn’t know Natty was hitting the scene tonight. She’s here at Platinum—hard to miss in that outfit.”

You stared at the text, your mind racing. Platinum? She hadn’t said anything about going to a club. The unease bloomed into suspicion as you quickly typed back.

“What outfit?”

The response came almost instantly, and when you read it, the words landed like a punch.

“Catwoman vibes, but damn, man… It’s a lot. Skin-tight, zipper low, fake tail. People are definitely looking. ”

Your jaw clenched as you reread the message, disbelief and frustration battling for dominance. She hadn’t just gone somewhere else—she’d lied. And she was wearing something that sounded far removed from her usual playful confidence, something designed to draw attention. Strangers were ogling her.

You didn’t bother replying. The anger was cold and focused, sharpening your resolve as you grabbed your jacket. The night air bit at your skin as you stepped outside, but the chill only fueled the fire simmering in your chest. You didn’t rush, your stride purposeful as you made your way, thoughts churning.

The trust you’d built, the respect you’d shown her freedom—tonight, she’d crossed a line. And by the time you reached the glowing lights of the club, you knew exactly what needed to happen.

Platinum was everything you expected—a pulsing epicenter of energy, where music pounded through the walls and spilled onto the street. The air inside was heavy with heat, a mixture of sweat, alcohol, and perfume that clung to your skin. Strobe lights sliced through the crowd, casting fleeting glimpses of costumed bodies pressed together in a chaotic dance.

You pushed your way through the throng of people, your eyes scanning the crowd. And then you saw her.

Natty was on the dance floor, her body moving to the rhythm of the music. She wore a skintight black spandex one-piece, the zipper pulled low enough to reveal the swell of her breasts. Fake cat ears perched on her head, and a thin decorative tail swayed with her movements. The outfit clung to her curves like a second skin, catching the light with every turn.

She was laughing, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, her lips parted as she threw herself into the moment. Strangers circled her, their eyes lingering too long, leaning in too close. She seemed utterly carefree, completely unaware of the storm brewing in you as you watched from the edge of the crowd.

She hadn’t told you about this. She hadn’t mentioned a club, or an outfit that looked like this. She had lied.

Your emotions churned—anger, disappointment, the sharp edge of control you always held carefully in balance. But you didn’t react impulsively. Instead, you moved through the crowd with purpose, your gaze fixed on her.

The crowd buzzed around her, bodies swaying in chaotic rhythm, the pulsing music drowning out everything else. Strobe lights flashed in bursts, illuminating her in snapshots—a vision of confidence and teasing allure. Her laughter was bright, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, as she leaned toward a stranger who was speaking too close. The low zipper of her costume shimmered under the lights, her every move a magnet for attention.

You stepped closer, your presence cutting through the sea of people. The noise and chaos dulled in your mind, every ounce of focus fixed on her. As you approached, she didn’t notice at first, lost in the moment, the music, and the hazy buzz in her veins. But when you reached out and tapped her shoulder, everything shifted.

She turned to you, her laughter faltering. Wide eyes met yours, the realization hitting her instantly. The flush of the alcohol drained from her face, replaced by something colder—guilt, fear, and the dawning understanding of exactly what was happening. The crowd around her seemed to fade into the background, her focus locked entirely on you.

Her lips parted as though she might say something, but no words came. She froze, her body stiff, the haze of alcohol lifting just enough to make the weight of the situation clear.

“We’re going home,” you said, your voice low and steady, cutting through the music with effortless authority.

The words were simple, but their effect was immediate. Her mouth snapped shut, and she nodded quickly, her head dipping in quiet submission. You didn’t wait for her to respond further. Without another word, you turned and began walking toward the exit, not sparing her another glance, not even taking her wrist to guide her. You didn’t need to. You knew she’d follow.

Behind you, her heels clicked against the sticky floor as she scrambled to keep up, weaving through the crowd. No one around her seemed to notice the shift in her demeanor, but you could feel it. The weight of her guilt, her submission, radiated in every hurried step as she followed you out of the club without needing to be told twice.

The crisp night air hit like a slap, the stark contrast to the heat and chaos inside. It was quieter out here, the muffled thump of the music still audible but distant. The autumn chill bit at your skin, but you barely noticed. Natty stayed close, her head bowed, her breath visible in the cold air. Her fake cat ears tilted slightly to one side, askew and crooked, as if even they reflected her subdued state.

She didn’t speak, and neither did you. The silence hung between you, heavy and suffocating, a clear signal that words weren’t needed. You led the way to the car, your steps purposeful, your jaw tight. Natty trailed behind, her head low, her shoulders hunched slightly as though trying to shrink under the weight of her own guilt. It wasn’t just her steps that were submissive—it was everything about her now, the way her presence shrank under your unwavering authority.

When you reached the car, your movements were calm, almost mechanical. You walked to her side, your expression neutral as you opened the passenger door for her. She hesitated for just a moment, her wide eyes flicking up to yours, searching for some indication of what you were feeling. But you gave her nothing, your face a mask of quiet control.

She slipped into the seat silently, her body tense as her hands fidgeted with the hem of her costume. The door closed behind her with a soft thud, and the stillness inside the car was oppressive. You moved around to the driver’s side, sliding in and gripping the wheel, but you didn’t start the car right away. Instead, you stared ahead, your jaw set as your thoughts churned.

From the corner of your eye, you could see her shift uncomfortably. Her breathing was uneven, her fingers gripping the fabric of her costume tightly as though it could anchor her. It was clear she was waiting, bracing herself for the storm to come. But you didn’t say a word. You let the silence stretch, thick and heavy, the weight of what had happened settling deeper over both of you.

Finally, you turned the key, the engine rumbling to life. The car pulled out onto the street, the bright lights of the club fading quickly into the rearview mirror. The ride home was long, the silence between you stretching like a taut wire, ready to snap. She glanced at you occasionally, her lips parting as though she wanted to speak, to explain, but she stopped herself each time. The tension in the air was suffocating, every unspoken word weighing her down further.

You didn’t look at her. Your gaze stayed fixed on the road, your hands gripping the wheel tightly. Her silence told you everything. She knew she had crossed a line, knew the trust you’d placed in her had been broken. And now, for the first time tonight, it seemed she understood—she wasn’t just caught. She was yours, completely.

When you arrived home, the quiet of the house was almost deafening. The faint hum of the fridge, the soft click of the front door as it shut behind you, even her hesitant footsteps on the hardwood floor—all of it felt amplified against the heavy stillness. She lingered near the entryway, her body stiff, her hands clenching at her sides. You didn’t say anything, your expression unreadable as you walked toward the living room.

Settling into the couch, you glanced at her, your eyes sharp and commanding. The weight of your gaze was enough to draw her forward, her body moving instinctively as though compelled. She sank to her knees in front of you, the skintight material of her costume creaking softly with her movement. The faint glimmer of the fabric caught the low light of the room, but her focus was entirely on you.

Her head bowed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her breaths came shallow and uneven as she knelt there, waiting for your words, knowing that whatever came next would be entirely in your hands.

The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive. You leaned back slightly, your arms crossed, letting her squirm under the weight of your gaze. Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. The subtle tilt of her cat ears seemed to mirror the unease radiating off her as she knelt before you, unable to meet your eyes.

“Explain,” you said finally, your voice low and sharp, cutting through the quiet like a blade.

Her head snapped up for just a moment, her wide, guilty eyes meeting yours before darting away again. She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… I didn’t think you’d let me go if I told you about the party. I thought you’d get mad about the outfit, about the people—so I lied.”

Her hands moved restlessly, fidgeting at the zipper of her costume, the nervous gesture small but telling. Her shoulders were tense, her entire posture shrinking under the intensity of your silence. She hesitated before speaking again, her voice growing quieter, more fragile. “It didn’t mean anything. I wasn’t… trying to hide anything important.”

You let the words hang in the air, your expression unchanging as she squirmed. Her breathing hitched, her body trembling slightly as the weight of your silence pressed down on her. Her lip quivered, and she blinked rapidly, clearly fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

“That’s not the point,” you said finally, your voice cold and deliberate. “It’s not about the outfit. It’s not about the party. It’s about trust. And you broke it.”

Her shoulders slumped further, her head bowing again as the full weight of your words hit her. She nodded faintly, her voice trembling as she whispered, “I’m sorry.” The words were fragile, so faint you almost missed them, and yet they carried the guilt and regret that were written across her face.

“When,” you asked, leaning forward slightly, “have I ever not let you go anywhere?”

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide and glassy. The question caught her off guard, and for a moment, she stared at you as though searching for the answer herself. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

“When have I forbidden you from wearing the most revealing outfits?” Your voice softened slightly, but the disappointment still lingered in your tone. “When, Natty? Tell me.”

Her lips trembled, and her gaze dropped to her lap. “You haven’t,” she whispered, her voice so quiet it barely reached you.

You nodded slowly, letting the truth sink in for her. “Exactly. I’ve always let you make your own choices. Always given you permission. And yet, you still lied to me. Why?”

The tears she had been holding back finally spilled, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “I… I don’t know,” she choked out, her hands gripping the hem of her costume tightly. “I was stupid. I didn’t want you to be mad, and I—” She broke off, her voice cracking under the weight of her guilt. “I’m sorry.” The words were fragile, so faint you almost missed them, and yet they carried the guilt and regret that were written across her face.

You sighed deeply, letting the moment stretch, the weight of her guilt hanging between you like a tangible presence. Her fidgeting hands, the way her eyes darted to the floor, her lips trembling with barely spoken words—it all told you that she knew the gravity of what she’d done. And yet, the lesson needed to be clear. Trust wasn’t just something taken lightly in your dynamic; it was the foundation upon which everything else rested.

You considered your options carefully, your mind cycling through potential punishments, discarding each one almost as quickly as it appeared. Something physical? No, that wouldn’t linger in the way you needed it to. Silence? Distance? Those would create tension, but not the kind that would truly drive the lesson home. Then, like a light flickering on, the perfect answer surfaced—a punishment so fitting it almost seemed like the universe had handed it to you on a silver platter.

No Nut November.

The trend was a joke to most, a playful challenge making its rounds on the internet. But for Natty, it would be anything but playful. You knew her intimately, perhaps better than she even knew herself. Her teasing confidence, her constant craving for closeness, her love for release—it was part of who she was. Denying her that for an entire month wasn’t just a punishment. It was a torment. Something she would dread deeply and feel every moment of every day. And the timing was flawless.

Your lips curved into a faint smirk as you settled your gaze on her. She hadn’t dared to meet your eyes, her hands twisting nervously at the hem of her skirt as though trying to anchor herself. You let the silence stretch, letting the weight of the moment build until it felt almost suffocating. Then, your voice broke the stillness, calm and deliberate.

“If you’d been honest,” you began slowly, your tone measured, each word sinking deep, “I would have let you go. I wouldn’t have cared about the outfit, the party, or the people. But you lied, Natty. And now, there are consequences.”

Her head snapped up, her wide, fearful eyes locking onto yours. You saw the desperation there, the faint tremor in her lower lip as her mind raced to catch up with your words. “Consequences?” she echoed, her voice barely more than a whisper, the word trembling on her lips as though she were afraid to give it shape.

You straightened in your seat, the decision crystallizing as you delivered it with calm finality. “You’re going a month without cumming,” you said simply. “Starting now.”

Her reaction was immediate. She flinched as though struck, her lips parting in shock, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. “A… a month?” she stammered, her voice pitching higher, the disbelief and panic unmistakable. “No—please, no. I’ll do anything else. Just not that—please!”

You raised a hand, the gesture silencing her instantly. Her mouth snapped shut, her breath catching audibly as her wide eyes remained locked on you, pleading silently. “No exceptions,” you said firmly, your voice steady, brooking no argument. “This isn’t just about the lie. It’s about trust. Trust needs to be earned back.”

For a moment, she was frozen, her chest heaving as she stared at you, her mind clearly working to process the weight of what you’d said. Then, slowly, the fight seemed to drain out of her. Her shoulders slumped, and her gaze dropped to the floor. The first tears shimmered in her eyes, catching the light, but she held them back with visible effort.

Her voice was small, trembling with guilt and something deeper—fear. “I… I understand,” she whispered, the words fragile and full of resignation.

“Good.” Your tone softened just slightly, enough to let her know you weren’t angry anymore, though the weight of your authority remained. “Go to the bedroom. We’re done here.”

She stood slowly, her movements hesitant and stiff, as though her body were fighting against her mind’s compliance. The faint click of her heels on the hardwood floor was the only sound as she retreated down the hallway. Her posture was smaller than usual, her confident aura replaced by something subdued, vulnerable. There was no defiance in her steps, no attempt to bargain further—only quiet acceptance of her fate.

As she disappeared into the bedroom, the sound of rustling sheets filtering back to you, you let out a long breath, running a hand through your hair. The tension in your chest eased slightly, replaced by a calm satisfaction. You weren’t angry anymore. This wasn’t about revenge or punishment for its own sake. It was about re-establishing the foundation that held everything together—trust.

You sank into the couch, the weight of the moment settling over you like a heavy blanket. The balance you’d struck was delicate, but you knew it was necessary. Natty needed this, not just to understand the gravity of her actions but to grow from it. Deep down, you knew she would.

-----

The first few days passed in an uneasy stillness. The house, once filled with Natty’s teasing comments and playful laughter, now seemed quieter, the air heavier. Her usual spark had dimmed, her presence muted in a way that was both unfamiliar and telling. She moved through the rooms carefully, her steps softer, her gaze lowered whenever she passed you. It wasn’t fear—far from it. It was something deeper: submission edged with guilt.

She stayed busy, as though keeping her hands occupied would prevent her thoughts from spiraling. She fetched your coffee before you asked, setting it down with a barely audible, “Here you go.” She folded blankets that didn’t need folding, straightened things that were already straight, her hands fidgeting when there was nothing left to do. Her movements were deliberate, every action laced with a quiet hope that her obedience might earn her reprieve.

When she thought you weren’t watching, she allowed herself quick glances in your direction, her eyes searching for any hint of forgiveness. But when you met her gaze, her expression flickered, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks warming. She brushed against your side tentatively in passing, her fingers grazing your arm or shoulder as if testing the waters. Each time, you remained composed, offering no indication that her efforts were noticed.

The absence of reaction clearly unsettled her. For a moment, it almost seemed like she thought you’d forgotten about her punishment. But even then, the unspoken tension lingered between you, a quiet hum that grew louder with every passing hour.

By the third day, the shift in her behavior was undeniable. The subtle signs of restlessness began to creep in. She wrung her hands more often, her fingers twisting and untwisting as she tried to channel her growing nervous energy. When she sat, her knees bounced slightly, her body refusing to stay still. Her cheeks flushed more frequently, a faint pink that deepened whenever you entered the room. She wasn’t fully aware of it yet, but the need was beginning to stir—a slow, creeping sensation she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

It was most evident when you were close to her. In the kitchen, as you stood near her to reach for something, she froze momentarily, the proximity sending a jolt through her. Her breath hitched, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to keep them occupied with a dish she was already drying.

“Something wrong?” you asked casually, your voice calm but pointed.

“N-no,” she stammered quickly, shaking her head. Her cheeks burned, and she turned away, her movements stiff as she set the dish down. She didn’t look at you, but the tension in her posture told you everything.

Later that evening, as you sat on the couch reading, she lingered in the doorway, clearly uncertain about what to do. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. When she finally stepped forward, she stopped a few feet away, her voice hesitant.

“Do you… need anything?” she asked softly, her words laced with hope.

You didn’t look up, turning a page instead. “No,” you said simply, your tone neutral.

Her shoulders sagged slightly, and she nodded, retreating back to the other room. The disappointment in her expression was brief, but it was there. You watched her go, noting the way her hands brushed against her thighs, as though grounding herself against the slow, creeping need she hadn’t yet put a name to.

As the hours stretched into night, the tension in her body became more visible. When she settled into bed, she shifted restlessly beneath the sheets, her breathing uneven. The faint sound of the fabric rustling was the only indication of her growing discomfort, but it was enough to bring a faint smirk to your lips. She wasn’t fully aware of it yet, but the punishment was beginning to take root. It was slow, deliberate, and exactly as it was meant to be.

Deep down, Natty must have known it too. But she clung to a fragile hope—a thought that if she waited long enough, if she behaved perfectly, you might let it pass without incident. It was wishful thinking, and you could see in her eyes that she already knew the truth.

It was late one evening, the kind of night where the house seemed to hum with a stillness that amplified every creak, every shift in the air. You stepped through the door, the long day weighing on your shoulders, your muscles tight with tension. The faint scent of Natty’s perfume greeted you before the soft shuffle of her footsteps reached your ears. She appeared in the entryway, her eyes bright but edged with a nervous energy that seemed to hover around her like a second skin.

Her smile was warm but hesitant, her hands clasped in front of her as if holding herself in place. She moved closer, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm as she reached for your coat. “Welcome home,” she murmured, her voice quieter than usual, almost cautious.

You nodded, a soft grunt of acknowledgment as you shrugged off your coat. The day’s weight still clung to you, the dull ache in your chest begging for rest. Before you could fully step past her, she moved again, her hand resting lightly on your chest. Then her lips brushed yours.

The kiss started soft, tentative—a whisper of warmth against the chill of the day. Her hands stayed light, one on your chest, the other grazing your shoulder, her body leaning in closer. For a moment, you let her, the subtle press of her mouth drawing you into the moment. She tasted faintly of mint, her lips warm and pliant as the kiss deepened.

She didn’t stop there. Her movements grew bolder, her body pressing flush against yours as her hands began to move. They trailed down to the edges of your collar, her fingertips brushing along your neck before drifting to the first button of your shirt. Her lips parted slightly, her breath mingling with yours, hot and heavy with quiet desperation. The faintest whimper escaped her throat as she tilted her head, pressing harder into the kiss, pouring everything into it.

You let her guide you toward the couch, her steps slow but deliberate. The kiss stayed connected, her lips never leaving yours as she coaxed you backward until the edge of the cushions met the back of your legs. You sank down, and she followed, her knees sliding on either side of your lap as she straddled you. Her hands moved more urgently now, gripping your shirt, her nails scraping lightly against the fabric as her hips shifted just enough to press her body closer.

She kissed you like she was unraveling, her fingers trembling slightly as she worked on the buttons of your shirt. Her breath came faster, her chest rising and falling against yours. For her, the rest of the world had disappeared—there was only you, the connection between you, and the fleeting hope that she could escape the boundaries you had set. Her need was palpable, her body leaning into yours with a quiet desperation that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second.

Then she reached for the hem of her shirt, her fingers curling around the loose fabric and tugging it upward slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of smooth skin. The motion was subtle, almost hesitant, but it carried with it an unspoken plea. It wasn’t calculated—just instinct, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap between the quiet tension and the simmering need she felt.

And just like that, the moment shifted.

You pulled back, your movement deliberate, breaking the kiss with a soft, almost imperceptible sound. Her breath caught audibly, her lips hovering in the space where yours had been, the warmth of you replaced by a cool absence that felt more striking than any words you could have spoken.

Her eyes fluttered open, and her expression flickered with confusion. Slowly, realization dawned, her cheeks flushing as she started to pull back further. Before she could, you pressed a hand gently to her shoulder—not harsh, but firm enough to still her completely.

“You’re still on punishment,” you said, your tone calm and measured, like a quiet storm.

Her lips parted slightly, a faint sound escaping them, almost like an aborted protest. Her gaze darted downward, her fingers loosening their hold on your shirt. “I wasn’t—” she started, her voice faltering. “I just thought—maybe if…”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting as her words trailed off into nothing. The faint blush on her cheeks deepened, spreading to her neck, her hands falling limply into her lap. She took a deep breath, clearly trying to steady herself. “I didn’t mean to push,” she murmured, her voice quieter now.

Your hand left her shoulder, and you leaned back slightly, studying her. The tension in her posture betrayed her unease, though she stayed seated in your lap, her legs tucked to either side of you. Her lips pressed together faintly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“You thought what?” you asked after a beat, your voice calm but edged with quiet authority. “That I’d just forget the boundaries I’ve set? That I’d let this slide?”

Her shoulders slumped slightly, her breathing uneven. “No,” she admitted softly. “I just thought… I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d…” She didn’t finish the sentence, her words dissolving into silence.

You watched her carefully, the weight of your gaze enough to keep her still. After a moment, you guided her gently off your lap. She slid to the floor without resistance, her knees brushing the rug as she sank down in front of you. Her head dipped slightly, her posture shrinking as the realization of her overstep settled in.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice almost too quiet to hear.

You stood, the couch creaking softly as you rose. Without another word, you stepped past her, your movements calm and deliberate. The sound of your footsteps faded as you left her kneeling there, the room suddenly feeling much emptier than before.

She didn’t move, her knees rooted to the spot, her hands resting limply in her lap. Her lips still tingled faintly from the kiss, a reminder of what had been taken away. Even as she stared at the space where you’d been, she couldn’t shake the growing realization: this wasn’t just a punishment. It was a reminder that, no matter what she thought she wanted, you were still in control.

-----

The days stretched into weeks, each one blurring into the next as Natty’s punishment continued. She tried to keep herself busy, focusing on tasks that didn’t need doing—organizing drawers, folding laundry that didn’t need folding—but it wasn’t long before the edges of her composure began to fray. The need was slow, insidious, creeping into her thoughts in moments of stillness until it was all-consuming.

Her usual spark had dulled, replaced by a quiet, simmering tension that followed her everywhere. She hovered near you constantly, her movements soft but deliberate, as though being close to you might ease the ache inside her. Every time you passed, her breath caught, and her gaze lingered on you, her wide eyes betraying the growing desperation she tried so hard to keep hidden.

You caught her once standing in the doorway, her hand resting against the frame as she watched you from a distance. When your eyes met, she flushed, her lips parting as though to say something, but no words came. Instead, she turned away quickly, her shoulders tight with frustration, the sound of her retreating footsteps echoing faintly through the quiet house.

But it wasn’t just the way she lingered. Her body betrayed her in other ways. The subtle tremor in her hands when she handed you your coffee, the way her fingers brushed against yours just a little too long, the way she bit her lip whenever you were close. She moved with an air of quiet submission, her every action laced with the unspoken hope that her obedience might draw you closer, might break the walls of the punishment you’d set.

You didn’t respond. You stayed composed, calm, offering no indication that you even noticed. And it drove her mad.

One evening, you stepped into the bedroom to find Natty perched on the edge of the bed. Her body was tense, shoulders hunched forward as though trying to fold into herself. In her hands, she clutched one of your shirts. The loose fabric was balled tightly, her knuckles whitening from the grip. She raised it to her face, burying her nose in it as her eyes fluttered closed. Her chest rose and fell in uneven, trembling breaths, the motion betraying her quiet desperation.

As she inhaled deeply, the faintest of shudders coursed through her body. The scent was faint but unmistakable—yours. It seemed to wrap around her, filling her senses with a comfort that only deepened the ache inside her. Her fingers curled tighter around the shirt, her grip almost possessive, as though letting go would sever her last tether to reality.

Her mind was a swirl of emotion. The warmth of your scent grounded her, but it also made her keenly aware of how much she missed you, how much she craved what she’d been denied. The ache in her chest spread downward, settling low in her belly, where it twisted and coiled into something almost unbearable. She didn’t know if the shirt soothed her or made the longing worse. All she knew was that she couldn’t stop herself.

Her lips parted slightly, a soft, shaky exhale escaping as she took another deep breath. The blush on her cheeks deepened, spreading to her neck and ears, as her thoughts spiraled. She hated how much she needed this—how much she needed you. The vulnerability stung, but she couldn’t let go, couldn’t stop herself from clinging to the one thing that made her feel closer to you.

“Natty.”

Your voice cut through the quiet like a blade, sharp and firm. Her head snapped up instantly, her wide eyes locking onto yours. The guilt hit her like a wave, and her hands jerked as though the shirt had suddenly burned her. It slipped from her fingers, falling to her lap, but the stain of her actions remained etched across her flushed features.

“I… I wasn’t—” she stammered, her voice cracking as she scrambled to her feet. Her hands fumbled at the fabric in her lap, twisting it nervously as her gaze darted to the floor. The crimson in her cheeks deepened, and her breathing turned uneven, a telltale sign of the storm raging inside her.

You didn’t move, your calm, steady presence only intensifying her discomfort. You didn’t need to say anything else. The silence pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating. She bit her lip, her shoulders slumping as she lowered her head in submission. The weight of your authority hung in the air, undeniable and absolute, until it crushed what little resolve she had left.

For the rest of the week, the cracks in her composure deepened. She lingered near you constantly, finding excuses to hover in your space. When you moved from one room to another, she followed quietly, her steps soft but deliberate. She never said much, but her presence was loud enough. When you passed her, her hand would brush against you, just lightly, as though testing your reaction. When you stood still for too long, she drifted closer, her breath hitching every time you turned in her direction.

Her need became a part of everything she did. The way her eyes flicked toward you incessantly, searching for any sign of indulgence. The subtle way her body leaned toward yours instinctively, drawn by a gravitational pull she couldn’t fight. She stopped trying to hide it—her longing was written into every motion, every glance, every trembling breath.

By the second week, it consumed her completely. Her confidence crumbled under the weight of her desperation, leaving her raw and exposed. Even her voice, when she dared to speak, carried the faintest quaver, as though each word threatened to betray her. The ache was no longer confined to moments of stillness; it was a constant presence, burning beneath her skin, coiling low in her belly, and leaving her trembling.

-----

Natty sat at home one day, scrolling aimlessly through her phone, trying to distract herself from the relentless need that had consumed her for weeks. Her body felt like a tightly coiled spring, every small movement amplifying the ache that lingered low in her belly. The sound of her phone buzzing startled her, and she glanced at the screen.

"Bedroom by the time I’m home. Naked."

The simplicity of the message made her heart race. Her fingers gripped the phone tightly as she reread the words, the weight of your command settling over her like a heavy blanket. Her breath hitched, and a nervous tremor coursed through her. She didn’t even need to think—her body moved on instinct.

She stood quickly, her hands trembling as she began to undress. Each piece of clothing she removed felt like shedding a layer of protection, leaving her vulnerable and exposed. The cool air of the house kissed her bare skin, sending a shiver up her spine. By the time she reached the bed, her heart was pounding so loudly she could hear it in her ears.

Kneeling, she positioned herself carefully, her body already quivering with a mix of nervous anticipation and lingering need. She rested on all fours, her breathing uneven, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she waited. The silence of the house felt deafening, the seconds stretching into eternity. She couldn’t help the thoughts that raced through her mind: Would this be her release? Would you finally touch her, grant her the relief she craved? Or would this be another lesson in patience, another test of her endurance?

The sound of the front door opening made her freeze. Her breath caught, her body tensing as she listened to your deliberate movements. The faint rustle of your belongings being set down sent a thrill through her, each noise heightening her anticipation. She stayed perfectly still, her hands gripping the sheets lightly, her heart threatening to leap from her chest.

When your footsteps finally approached the bedroom, she felt the weight of your presence before you even spoke. The door opened, and your gaze swept over her. She didn’t dare lift her head, but she felt the heat of your eyes on her bare skin. Her body trembled under your scrutiny, the vulnerability making her both anxious and exhilarated.

“Stand up,” your voice broke the silence, calm but commanding.

She rose immediately, though her legs wobbled slightly as she obeyed. She felt utterly exposed under your watchful eyes, her arms twitching as though to cover herself, but she stopped. Your steady gaze and the faint shake of your head froze her in place. Her arms dropped to her sides, her fingers trembling as she fought the urge to shield herself.

“Bathroom,” you instructed, your tone firm and leaving no room for argument. “Stay still.”

Natty moved quickly, her bare feet making no sound as she positioned herself in the bathroom doorway. Her body was taut with nervous energy, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides as she worked to follow your command. Her breathing was already shallow, her lips parted, and her wide eyes tracked your every move.

You began to undress deliberately, unhurried, letting her watch. The soft rustle of fabric filled the room as you slid your shirt from your shoulders, revealing the defined lines of your chest. Her gaze clung to you, her lips pressing together as her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. When your hands moved to your belt, her eyes followed like a magnet, locking onto the motion with an intensity that sent a faint flush across her cheeks.

As you stepped out of your pants, she froze completely. Her gaze darted lower, landing on the growing outline beneath your boxers, and her breath caught audibly. She tried to pull her eyes away, but they kept flicking back, lingering with a desperation she could no longer hide. It was as though everything else in the room had vanished, her world narrowing to just you—your movements, your body, and the aching need she felt burning inside her.

You stepped into the shower without a word, the sound of water cascading over your skin breaking the silence. The steam began to fill the room, curling around her, but her attention never wavered. The glass doors left nothing to the imagination, and her eyes locked onto you again, trailing down your chest to your stomach, and then lower.

Her breathing grew heavier, each rise and fall of her chest more pronounced as her thighs shifted subtly. She pressed them together, a faint, instinctive movement that she clearly hoped would go unnoticed. But it didn’t. You saw every motion, every tremor that betrayed how much effort it took for her to stand still.

“Still,” you said, your voice firm but calm, cutting through the thick haze of her longing.

Her legs froze immediately, though her body trembled slightly with the strain of holding herself back. Her gaze flicked up to your face briefly, an almost guilty glance, before dropping again. It didn’t take long for her eyes to return to the same place, fixed on the growing evidence of your arousal.

The effort to control herself was evident in every line of her frame. Her hands flexed at her sides, her fingers curling and uncurling as though fighting the urge to reach out. Her lips parted again, a faint, shaky exhale escaping as her gaze remained fixed, unable to look away.

When you turned slightly, letting the water run down your back, she shifted almost imperceptibly. Her chest rose and fell quicker now, her thighs pressing together again, the motion more noticeable this time. The faintest glisten of sweat began to form on her skin, mixing with the steam around her, as though her body were reacting to a heat only she could feel.

After finishing your shower, you stepped out, wrapping a towel loosely around your waist. Her eyes followed the motion, flicking downward for just a second too long. When you reached for another towel to dry your hair, her gaze returned, locking onto the outline beneath the fabric.

Her breathing hitched audibly, and she swallowed hard, her throat working visibly. She wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore—her need radiated off her in waves, the desperation plain in the way her lips pressed together, her body trembling with restraint.

“Back to the bed,” you said, your tone steady.

She turned quickly, her body moving as though it could barely keep up with the frantic pace of her mind. Every step toward the bedroom echoed with the quiet desperation she could no longer hide. As she lay back on the bed, her movements were both eager and hesitant, her hands twitching at her sides as though fighting the urge to reach out and pull you closer. Her breathing was shallow, each inhale trembling slightly, her chest rising and falling in uneven rhythms.

When you joined her, her heart raced, the anticipation almost unbearable. Was this it? Had her obedience finally earned her a reprieve? The thought flickered through her mind like a fragile spark, and she clung to it desperately. Maybe this is his way of letting me off early, she thought. Maybe I’ve been good enough.

You didn’t speak, but the weight of your gaze on her was intoxicating. Her body reacted instinctively, her legs parting slightly as you shifted closer. When your hand started at her knee, trailing upward along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, her breath hitched audibly. Her thighs parted further, almost of their own accord, inviting your touch. Her skin quivered beneath your fingers, every nerve ending coming alive as you moved deliberately, your strokes maddeningly slow and controlled.

She bit her lip, a soft whine escaping her as her hips shifted slightly toward your hand, seeking more. Her need was evident now, radiating off her in waves, but the moment her movement betrayed her impatience, you stopped. Your eyes narrowed, and the sternness in your gaze was enough to freeze her in place.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and even.

The praise sent a visible shiver through her. Her lips parted, a soft gasp escaping as her body reacted involuntarily. A faint sheen of wetness betrayed her growing arousal, glistening faintly in the dim light of the room. The ache inside her deepened, spreading like fire through her veins, and the thought of finally being allowed to release burned brighter in her mind.

Your fingers trailed closer, brushing along the edge of her folds with maddening precision. You never gave her exactly what she needed, staying just millimeters away, the teasing strokes pushing her closer to the edge without letting her fall. Her breaths grew shallow, her chest heaving as her back arched slightly off the bed.

She whimpered, the sound barely audible but filled with a desperation that was impossible to ignore. Her slickness spread, catching the light, her body leaking uncontrollably as her arousal built to a fever pitch.

And then, just as your fingers hovered over the place where her need was most concentrated, you pulled away.

The gasp that escaped her was almost a sob. Her hips jerked upward reflexively, as though her body couldn’t accept the sudden absence of your touch. Her eyes snapped open, wide and pleading, the longing in them unrestrained. She looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, her lips trembling as though she might beg. But the sternness in your gaze silenced whatever words she might have been about to say.

“Go to sleep,” you said, your voice calm and final.

Her heart sank, the weight of your command hitting her like a tidal wave. She stared at you for a long moment, her body frozen, her lips parting slightly as though to protest. But she caught herself, her hands curling into fists at her sides as she nodded shakily. Slowly, she sank back against the mattress, her body sinking into the sheets as though the effort to fight was too much.

You lay down beside her, the bed shifting slightly under your weight. The warmth of your body was close enough to feel but impossibly far from the relief she craved. Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling in trembling rhythms as her legs shifted restlessly beneath the sheets. She pressed her thighs together, her hips rocking slightly in a futile attempt to ease the tension that burned through her like wildfire.

Her eyes fluttered closed, though she knew sleep would be impossible. Her body pulsed with frustration, every nerve ending alight with unfulfilled desire. She could still feel the ghost of your touch on her skin, the teasing brush of your fingers that had come so maddeningly close.

Beside her, you remained composed, your breathing calm, your presence steady and unattainable. The quiet was oppressive, the tension between you palpable as the minutes stretched into hours.

Her mind spiraled as reality sank in—this wasn’t relief. It wasn’t a reprieve. It was another lesson in control, another reminder of who held the power. And as her body burned with the ache of denial, the truth became inescapable: tonight wouldn’t bring her release. It would only deepen the longing that consumed her.

-----

The final week of November arrived, and Natty was barely holding it together. The days had grown heavier, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours as her body and mind simmered with unrelenting tension. The month-long denial had pushed her to her limits, leaving her restless and sensitive to every touch, every glance, every moment in your presence. This wasn’t just a punishment—it was a slow unraveling, and the last week felt like it might break her entirely.

By mid-afternoon, as she paced through the kitchen for the third time that day, her phone buzzed on the counter, cutting through the quiet. She grabbed it quickly, her heart giving a small jolt as she saw the group chat lighting up.

“Eclipse tonight! Drinks on me. You’re coming, right?” Belle’s message was followed by a string of emojis, the energy infectious even through the screen. Natty’s gaze lingered on the words as more messages poured in.

“You better not flake again, Natty!” Julie added with a laughing emoji.

“I’m wearing heels for the first time in a year for this. Be there. No excuses!” chimed Haneul.

The idea of going out with her friends, laughing and dancing the night away, was tempting. For a brief moment, she imagined herself letting loose, the music drowning out her thoughts, her body moving freely in the dim lights of the club. It sounded perfect—exactly what she needed.

And yet, something held her back.

Her gaze lifted from the phone to the living room, where you sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone with your usual calm demeanor. She watched you for a moment, her chest tightening with a strange sense of unease. The thought of leaving the house, of being away from you, felt heavier than it should have. It wasn’t fear, exactly—more like a quiet, unshakable pull to stay near you, as though the distance would only amplify the ache she already felt.

Her phone buzzed again, breaking her thoughts. “Natty, don’t make me beg! 😘 Eclipse is calling your name!” Belle was relentless, as always.

Natty paced the kitchen, her fingers tightening around her phone as her thoughts churned. Her friends wouldn’t understand. They’d tell her she was overthinking it, that a night out was exactly what she needed. But they didn’t know what she was going through. They didn’t know how the last few weeks had left her raw and vulnerable, every nerve in her body on edge. And they didn’t understand the quiet, powerful pull that kept her close to you.

Summoning her courage, she stepped into the living room. “My friends want me to go out,” she said, her voice soft and uncertain.

You looked up briefly, meeting her gaze with an easy calm. “Sure,” you replied, your tone steady. “Go if you want.”

The simplicity of your answer caught her off guard. Her heart skipped a beat, her lips parting in surprise. She had expected… something else. Guidance, hesitation, maybe even a hint of disapproval. Instead, your response was so casual, so sincere, it left her more conflicted than ever.

“You’re… okay with it?” she asked, her tone cautious.

“Of course,” you said, your expression neutral. “If you want to go, you should.”

Natty blinked, caught between disbelief and confusion. Her gaze searched your face, looking for any trace of hesitation, but found none. The ease of your answer left her more conflicted than before, and a strange pang of guilt settled in her chest.

“Really? You don’t mind?” she pressed, her voice quieter now, almost reluctant.

You raised an eyebrow, amused by her persistence. “I don’t mind, Natty. It’s your decision.”

She nodded slowly, retreating a few steps to sit on the chair across from you. Her phone buzzed again, her friends filling the group chat with plans for the night. Outfits, drinks, excitement—it was all there, pulling her in. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, typing out a reply only to erase it again.

She glanced back at you. “You’re… really okay with me going?” she asked again, her voice even softer this time.

You met her gaze evenly. “I said I was. It’s your call, Natty.”

The finality in your words settled over her like a weight. The decision was hers—fully, completely hers—and yet the idea of leaving felt wrong. Her chest tightened, her stomach knotting with a mix of frustration and longing she couldn’t quite place.

With a deep breath, she typed: “Can’t make it, sorry.”

Her finger hovered over the send button, the decision catching in her chest for just a moment before she pressed it. The message disappeared into the chat, and a strange mix of relief and frustration flooded her.

When she looked back at you, she couldn’t help but ask one last time, “You’re really not upset?”

You glanced at her, offering a faint, reassuring smile. “Not at all,” you said simply, returning your attention to your phone.

The sincerity in your tone surprised her, and she sank back into the chair, her phone now dark in her hand. The quiet buzz of the house resumed, but her mind was still spinning. She had made the decision herself—without pressure, without guidance—and as unsettling as that was, a small part of her felt… content.

The thought of staying near you, of not letting that distance grow, settled warmly in her chest. And as she sat there, the sound of your steady breathing grounding her, she knew she’d made the choice she truly wanted.

-----

The evening had settled in, darkness blanketing the world outside as the soft glow of a table lamp cast warm light across the living room. The house was quiet, a serene contrast to the distant hum of the night’s activity beyond the walls. You sat on the couch, lazily flipping through channels, the faint murmur of the television filling the stillness. The simplicity of the moment was grounding, a calm that belied the tension that had simmered between you and Natty over the past weeks.

She lingered in the doorway, hesitant but drawn to you, her phone still clutched tightly in her hand. She hadn’t left the house since your conversation, her friends’ messages still buzzing occasionally in the background, unanswered. Finally, gathering her courage, she stepped into the room, her footsteps soft against the hardwood.

You glanced up from the remote, your eyes meeting hers. Her expression was conflicted, a mix of vulnerability and determination. “Why didn’t you go with your friends?” you asked, your tone calm but curious.

She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I…” Her voice faltered for a moment before she took a deep breath. “I just… didn’t feel like going,” she said, though the truth was far more layered. Her eyes darted away, betraying the nerves she tried to suppress.

Your gaze stayed steady, unyielding, as you leaned back slightly. “That’s not an answer, Natty,” you said, your voice firm but not unkind. “Tell me the truth.”

Her shoulders stiffened for a moment before she relented, her gaze flickering back to yours. “I wanted to stay here,” she admitted softly, her cheeks warming with a faint blush. “With you.”

The simplicity of her words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken until now. For a moment, you didn’t respond, letting the weight of her confession linger. Then, slowly, the faintest smile curved your lips, a warm, genuine expression that made her shoulders relax slightly.

“Come here,” you said, your voice steady but soft, a quiet command that carried more weight than the words alone. “Sit on my lap.”

Natty appeared almost immediately, her movements automatic, her body responding before her mind could process. She climbed onto your lap, her thighs straddling yours as she settled against you. The heat of her body radiated through her clothes, her breathing already shallow as your hands found her waist, grounding her.

Your hands didn’t linger long. They slid upward, brushing over the curve of her chest, and she gasped softly, her back arching slightly into your touch. There was no hesitation in the way you began to knead her, your fingers flexing firmly through the thin fabric of her shirt. She let out a soft whimper, her body reacting to every squeeze, her head tilting forward as though offering herself completely.

“Take it off,” you murmured, your voice low but firm.

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one smooth motion. She discarded it to the floor, her chest now bare, rising and falling with her quickened breaths. The faint flush across her skin deepened as your eyes roamed over her, taking in every inch of her exposed form.

Your hands moved back to her now-bare chest, your palms warm against her skin as you groped her fully. She gasped again, louder this time, the sound breaking into a soft moan as your thumbs brushed over the sensitive peaks of her nipples. Her hips shifted instinctively against you, the motion subtle but telling, her body betraying the growing wetness between her legs.

Your lips followed your hands, pressing softly against her neck before trailing lower. The faint scent of her skin filled your senses, sweet and intoxicating as you kissed along her collarbone. She tilted her head back, giving you full access, her body trembling as your mouth continued its slow descent.

When your lips finally closed around one of her nipples, her reaction was immediate. She let out a sharp gasp, her fingers digging into your shoulders as her back arched. You alternated between gentle licks and firmer pressure, your tongue swirling in deliberate, teasing circles. Your other hand remained on her chest, squeezing and kneading with steady precision, while your thumb flicked against the neglected peak.

Her breathing grew erratic, her soft gasps turning into moans as her head tilted forward again, her lips brushing against your ear as she whimpered. “Please…” The word was barely audible, trembling with desperation as her body pressed closer to yours.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you bit down lightly, your teeth grazing against her nipple before soothing the skin with your tongue. Her whole body jolted, her thighs clenching around your lap as another moan escaped her lips. Your free hand slid lower, gripping her hip firmly to keep her steady as her movements grew more frantic.

The wetness between her legs became impossible to ignore, the faint sound of her arousal audible as her hips shifted against you. She was trembling now, completely lost in the moment, her body responding instinctively to every touch, every kiss, every firm squeeze of your hands.

“God,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as her nails raked lightly against your shoulders. “I can’t—”

“Shhh,” you murmured against her skin, your voice low and commanding. “You can.”

Your mouth returned to her chest, alternating between each peak, your tongue and teeth teasing her with perfect precision. She was leaking now, her arousal spreading across the thin fabric of her panties, soaking through to the point where you could feel the dampness against your lap.

Just as she seemed ready to tip over the edge, her hips pressing harder against you, her chest arching fully into your mouth, you pulled back.

The sudden absence of your touch left her gasping, her eyes snapping open in disbelief. Her lips parted, trembling as though she might beg, but the look in your eyes stopped her. Her body stilled, though her thighs continued to tremble, the tension coiling tighter inside her with every second of denial.

You leaned back into the couch, a faint smirk playing on your lips as you let your gaze linger on her flushed skin, the evidence of her arousal impossible to miss.

“You know what I want.” you said, your voice calm but edged with quiet authority. 

Her breath hitched audibly, her wide, hazy eyes meeting yours. There was no hesitation now. She shifted off your lap, her hands trembling slightly as they moved to your shorts. Her fingers hooked into the waistband, pulling them down slowly, her lips parting as her focus shifted entirely to you.

As the fabric slid away, revealing the full length of you, Natty's breath hitched audibly. Her gaze locked on you, her wide eyes taking in every inch with unabashed admiration. No matter how many times she saw you like this, she could never fully get over it—the sheer size, the thickness, the way it was always all for her. Her tongue darted out reflexively, wetting her lips as though in anticipation, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths.

The faint musk of your arousal filled the air, heady and intoxicating, and she inhaled deeply, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Her thighs pressed together, an unconscious response to the ache that flared inside her. When her eyes opened again, they were darker, her pupils blown wide with longing, her lips trembling slightly as she leaned closer.

Her fingers hovered hesitantly before curling around your base, the warmth of her touch sending a faint tremor through her own body. She brought her face closer, her nose brushing lightly against you as she took in your scent again, the rawness of it making her exhale shakily. It consumed her thoughts, every nerve ending alight as the need within her grew unbearable.

For a moment, she lingered there, caught in the haze of her desire, her tongue hovering just above you. Her nails bit softly into your thigh as her other hand rose to her chest, cupping the soft weight of her breast. Then, as though steeling herself, she straightened slightly, her fingers squeezing her softness as she pressed her chest together.

Tilting her head, she let a long string of spit fall onto your shaft, the warm slickness trailing down slowly. Her movements were deliberate, unhurried, each moment stretching with intent as her hands guided her breasts to encase you. The soft, pliant warmth of her skin enveloped your length, her grip firm but yielding as she began to move.

Up and down, her chest stroked along you in a smooth, rhythmic motion, the slickness making every movement glide effortlessly. Her breaths grew heavier, her lips parting as a faint sheen of sweat formed on her forehead. Glancing up, she caught your gaze, her expression a mix of eagerness and awe.

You exhaled deeply, the faintest hint of a groan escaping your lips, and the sound sent a shiver rippling through her. The reaction was electric—Natty’s pace quickened, her movements more determined as her confidence grew. She pressed her breast more firmly against you, adjusting her angle slightly, the friction amplifying the sensations with every pass of her soft skin.

Each brush of her curves against your length elicited a flicker of pleasure across your face, and the sight of it spurred her on. The faint flush that painted her cheeks deepened as her own arousal grew with each passing second. She could feel the dampness between her thighs spreading, the sticky warmth soaking her panties, making the fabric cling to her skin uncomfortably. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, seeking relief she couldn’t allow herself, but she didn’t stop. She wouldn’t. This was for you.

Leaning lower, she brought her face closer, her warm breath ghosting across your tip. Her lips brushed against you, feather-light, a teasing touch that made her breath hitch. For a brief moment, she hovered there, as if savoring the anticipation, before parting her lips and taking the head into her mouth. Her tongue flicked out, circling in slow, deliberate movements that sent jolts of sensation through you. All the while, her chest continued its rhythmic motion, enveloping you in warmth and softness.

Her lips worked in tandem with her breasts, creating an intoxicating combination of sensations. The wet heat of her mouth, the slick pressure of her curves, the eager swirl of her tongue—it was almost overwhelming. Her pace grew more fervent, the urgency in her actions reflecting your mounting tension. She could feel your body responding, the slight tensing of your thighs beneath her hands, the subtle shift in your breathing as it became uneven.

Her own breathing quickened, her moans muffled around your shaft as her arousal reached a fever pitch. Each motion, each sound you made, fueled her further, her movements becoming bolder. She pushed herself harder, faster, the rhythm of her chest and the pressure of her lips in perfect sync. Her thighs quivered, her body trembling with the intensity of the moment.

You groaned deeply, the sound low and primal, vibrating through the air as your hips bucked slightly in response to her movements. Your hands gripped the couch tightly, the pleasure cresting as your breathing turned ragged. “I’m cumming,” you growled, your voice thick with urgency, each word a raw admission of the overwhelming sensation.

Natty’s eyes flicked up to you briefly, her pupils blown wide as she heard the words. A soft, needy whimper escaped her lips, her movements quickening as if she wanted to savor every moment of your release. Her arousal was palpable now, radiating off her in waves. She could feel the wetness between her thighs pooling, soaking through the thin fabric of her panties as the ache inside her reached a fever pitch.

Your body tensed, and the first thick rope of warmth hit her face, splashing across her cheeks and lips. She gasped softly, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the sensation registered. Her lips parted, and her breath hitched audibly, her chest rising and falling as the heat of it spread across her skin.

The next wave followed, coating her chest in hot streaks that dripped slowly downward. The sheer amount startled her, her hands faltering momentarily as she adjusted, her fingers instinctively brushing through the mess. Her body reacted instinctively, her thighs pressing together as another involuntary wave of arousal coursed through her. The heat radiating from her own skin was unbearable, her breath shaky as she let out another quiet, trembling moan.

Her chest glistened in the dim light, streaks of your release tracing down to her stomach. The sticky warmth clung to her skin, vivid and undeniable, a testament to how much you had been saving up for her. She trembled under the weight of the moment, her lips parting as she whispered faintly, “Oh my God…” Her voice was soft, filled with a mix of awe and desperation, her gaze dropping to the glistening mess on her chest.

Her hands trembled as they moved, brushing lightly over her curves, smearing the sticky remnants across her skin. The sight only heightened the ache inside her, her thighs quivering as she shifted slightly, her soaked panties clinging to her skin. The desperate need for relief surged again, her body reacting as if the mere act of pleasing you had amplified her own longing tenfold.

You leaned back into the couch, your breathing heavy but steadying as you watched her. A faint smirk played at the corner of your lips, your eyes taking in the sight of her—kneeling before you, her chest heaving, her skin glistening with evidence of your release. She looked wrecked, raw, and utterly yours.

“Clean yourself up,” you said finally, your voice calm but carrying a quiet authority that sent another shiver down her spine.

Her gaze flicked downward, her lips parting slightly as she took in the sight of herself. Thick streaks of your release marked her chest and face, the warmth of it clinging to her skin like a brand. Her hands trembled as they moved upward, her fingertips brushing against her cheek where the first streaks had landed. She paused for a heartbeat, her breath catching in her throat as her fingers lingered.

Then, with deliberate intent, she brought her fingers to her lips. The movement was slow, almost reverent, her eyes fluttering closed as she slipped them into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around each digit, savoring the taste, rich and unmistakable. A soft, audible gulp followed as she swallowed, her breath hitching as the act only deepened the simmering heat coursing through her.

Her hands moved lower, cupping her chest, her fingers gliding over the slickness streaked across her skin. The warmth was still there, a visceral reminder of your dominance. She leaned forward slightly, her breath shallow and uneven as she began to clean herself. Her fingers gathered the remnants, smearing it slightly before bringing it to her lips again. Her movements were unhurried, each touch deliberate, each taste sending a shiver down her spine.

She shifted slightly, lifting one breast toward her mouth. Her tongue darted out, tentative at first, lapping at the streaks she couldn’t reach with her fingers. Her lips closed around the soft curve, sucking gently as she worked to clean every inch of her skin. Her breaths were audible now, short and trembling, her chest heaving as she moved to the other side.

The wet sounds of her tongue and lips filled the room, mingling with the faint rustle of her shifting body. She was methodical, thorough, her cheeks flushed deeper with every motion. The room seemed smaller, hotter, the air thick with the lingering scent of arousal. The tension between you remained palpable, her body trembling with unspent need even as she finished her task.

When she finally straightened, her lips glistened faintly, and her chest was free of the sticky evidence of your climax. Yet the dampness clinging to her inner thighs betrayed her state. The act of cleaning herself had only deepened the ache inside her, the heat between her legs an all-consuming pulse that refused to be ignored.

Her wide eyes flicked up to meet yours briefly, filled with a mix of uncertainty and raw desire, before dropping again. She seemed unable to hold your gaze for long, the intensity too much to bear. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, her fingers twisting together as her breaths remained shallow, her body visibly trembling with need.

She stayed kneeling before you, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only motion. The memory of your pleasure was fresh on her tongue, the weight of your control pressing down on her, and the unrelenting ache inside her burned hotter than ever. Every second in your presence made it harder to endure, the tension in her body coiling tighter, her submission deepening with every unspoken command.

-----

The final days of her punishment dragged on like an endless stretch of time, every moment heavy with unspoken tension. The stillness between you was almost oppressive, each day blurring into the next as the weight of her denial bore down on her. This was the longest Natty had ever gone without release, and it showed in every aspect of her demeanor. Her once-bright spark had dimmed, replaced by a quiet desperation that lingered in her every move.

The ache inside her had become unbearable, growing from a subtle pulse to an all-encompassing fire that clouded her thoughts. Every touch she remembered, every fleeting moment of closeness, replayed in her mind, driving her mad with longing. Even the faintest brush of your presence—a simple passing glance, the sound of your footsteps—sent a shiver down her spine, her body reacting instinctively despite her attempts to suppress it.

You, as always, maintained your calm and composed demeanor. There was no teasing, no deliberate provocation—just an air of quiet control that seemed to magnify her need. The unrelenting steadiness of your presence was both a source of comfort and torment. You gave her no indication of when her punishment might end, leaving her to stew in the tension, her mind spiraling with thoughts she couldn’t escape.

She couldn’t help herself; she gravitated toward you like a moth drawn to a flame. Wherever you went, she found an excuse to be nearby. She lingered in doorways, her wide eyes fixed on you as if waiting for permission to come closer. When you stood in the kitchen, her presence was a constant shadow, her movements soft and tentative as though afraid to disturb the fragile equilibrium.

One evening, the weight of it all seemed to crash over her. You were preparing dinner, your movements calm and deliberate as the scent of garlic and herbs filled the air. She knelt between your legs, her hands resting lightly on your thighs, her head tilted upward as she gazed at you. The tension in her body was palpable, every muscle tight as if she were holding herself together by sheer force of will.

Her wide eyes locked on yours, filled with an unspoken plea that words couldn’t capture. She didn’t dare speak, but the faint parting of her lips, the quick, uneven rise and fall of her chest, and the way her thighs pressed together betrayed the depth of her need. Her hands trembled slightly, her fingers brushing the fabric of your pants as though drawn by an invisible force.

She didn’t move, didn’t dare break the silence, but her gaze flicked downward for a fleeting moment. Her lips parted just slightly, her breathing shallow as her eyes darted back up to meet yours. Her desperation was written into every movement, her body quivering with the effort of staying still.

You glanced down at her, your calm and deliberate movements uninterrupted. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, a subtle acknowledgment of her state. Finally, you broke the silence, your voice low and steady. “You can use your mouth.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with disbelief. For a moment, she seemed frozen, her body stiff as the words sank in. Then, her expression shifted, gratitude flooding her features as she whispered, “Really?” Her voice was shaky, as if she didn’t trust her own ears, her lips trembling as she waited for confirmation.

You nodded, giving her permission. “Go ahead.”

Her response was immediate, eager, as though this was the reprieve she had been desperately waiting for. Leaning forward, her hands trembled slightly as they moved to your waistband, carefully freeing you. As your length was revealed, her breath hitched audibly, her lips parting as her gaze fixated on you. Her eyes flickered with a mix of awe and raw hunger, the sight of you sending a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her.

She paused for a moment, her face hovering close. The faint musk of your arousal filled her senses, and she inhaled deeply, her thighs pressing together as a shiver rippled through her. The scent alone seemed to heighten the ache inside her, leaving her trembling with need.

Finally, she leaned in, her lips wrapping around you with deliberate care. Her mouth was warm and soft, her tongue swirling in practiced, eager motions. Her hands braced against your thighs, steadying herself as she began to work. Every movement was filled with purpose, her lips and tongue crafting a rhythm that sent jolts of pleasure through you.

Her motions were a mixture of desperation and precision. She wasn’t just focused on bringing you pleasure—she clung to the act itself, as though the act of pleasing you might somehow soothe her own unrelenting need. Her moans vibrated against you, soft and involuntary, her arousal building with each sound you made in response.

A deep groan escaped your lips, and the sound spurred her on. Her pace quickened, her confidence growing as she adjusted to the rhythm she knew would elicit the strongest response. Her cheeks hollowed with each stroke, her tongue working fervently as her lips slid along your length. The way her eyes flicked up to meet yours, filled with anticipation and longing, only added to the intensity.

Then, without pausing, she shifted lower. Her tongue trailed down to your base, her warm breath ghosting over your skin as she carefully took one of your balls into her mouth, sucking gently. The softness of her lips, combined with the light flicks of her tongue, sent a shiver through you. Her hands stayed busy, one stroking your length in a steady rhythm, the other resting on your thigh for balance.

“Just like that,” you murmured, your voice deep and husky, the words sending a faint flush to her cheeks.

Encouraged, she moved to the other side, giving equal attention, her tongue drawing slow, teasing circles before her lips closed around you. Her strokes on your shaft quickened slightly, her fingers curling tighter as she worked both areas with practiced care. The combination of her warm mouth and eager hands created an overwhelming sensation, pulling low groans from your chest.

Her breaths came heavier now, her arousal bleeding into her movements. The slickness of her fingers against your length was steady and deliberate, the wet sound of her efforts filling the quiet room. Her thighs shifted against the floor, her own body reacting instinctively to the act of pleasing you.

After a time, she released you from her mouth with a soft pop, her tongue trailing back up your length, leaving a wet path in her wake. She returned to your shaft, her lips wrapping around you again as though she couldn’t stay away. She took you deeper this time, her tongue pressed firmly against the underside as she bobbed her head, her hands bracing against your thighs to steady herself. Each motion was fluid, precise, and full of intent.

“Look at you,” you said, your voice low and strained. “So eager. So good with that mouth.”

Her pace quickened at your words, her lips sliding up and down as her tongue swirled over your sensitive tip. The vibrations of her soft moans were almost too much, and you groaned deeply, the sound spurring her on further. Her hands gripped your thighs tighter as she adjusted her rhythm, each movement driving you closer to the edge.

You felt the heat rising, the sensation building to an unbearable peak. “I’m close,” you growled, your voice strained as you placed a firm hand on the back of her head.

She took your words as a command, her efforts becoming almost frantic, her mouth enveloping you deeper as her tongue worked with renewed vigor. The vibrations of her soft moans drove you over the edge. As you climaxed, your hand pressed gently but firmly on the back of her head, ensuring there was no space between you.

The first surge of your release hit the back of her throat directly, her eyes widening as she instinctively swallowed. The warmth and thickness filled her mouth entirely, her lips sealing around you as she took everything you gave her. Each pump sent another rush straight to the back of her throat, leaving no room for travel, her swallowing keeping perfect pace with your release.

Her body trembled beneath you, her own arousal spiking as she felt every pulse of your climax. Her hands gripped your thighs tightly, her nails digging in slightly as she fought to keep herself steady. The act of taking you so completely only amplified her own need, the ache inside her growing unbearable.

When the last wave subsided, she lingered, her tongue moving gently against you as if savoring every moment. Slowly, she pulled back, her lips leaving you with a soft, deliberate motion. She gasped softly, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her face flushed and glistening.

Her lips were swollen, her gaze hazy as she looked up at you, the taste of you still on her tongue. Her hands fell to her lap, trembling as her thighs pressed together tightly, the evidence of her arousal undeniable.

Her gaze flicked downward, taking in the sight of your length slick from her efforts and the faint mess left on her lips. Her thighs pressed together tightly, her need still painfully unresolved. She had thought this would help her, that focusing on your pleasure would somehow soothe the ache building inside her. But she was so wrong.

The act of bringing you to release, of hearing your groans and feeling your tension snap, had only sharpened her own longing. The heat inside her was unbearable, the ache now all-consuming. Her body trembled as her lips tingled with the memory of you, the lingering taste of your release on her tongue making her stomach twist with need.

Sitting back on her heels, her hands trembling slightly, she dared to glance back up at you, searching for something—permission, relief, anything. But your calm, steady gaze only reminded her of the boundaries you’d set. Her stomach tightened as the realization settled over her: she was still denied. Nothing had changed. If anything, the fire inside her burned hotter.

Her lips parted as though to speak, but no words came. She remained kneeling, her chest heaving softly, every nerve in her body alight with unspent desire. Her thighs clenched tighter, but it was no use—the longing inside her wasn’t going anywhere. It had only grown.

-----

The tension in the house reached its peak on the second-to-last evening, the air so heavy it felt alive. The soft glow of the television flickered across the room, its muted sound blending with the quiet hum of the house. You sat on the couch, leaning back comfortably, your posture calm and steady despite the storm of emotions swirling between you and Natty.

She lingered nearby, her presence hesitant but drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of indecision, she approached. Without a word, she lay across your lap, her head resting on your thigh as she curled into herself slightly. The tension in her body was palpable, her breathing shallow and uneven as though the simple act of being close to you was too much.

Your hand moved to her hair instinctively, your fingers threading through the soft strands in slow, deliberate strokes. The touch was gentle but firm, grounding her even as her thoughts spiraled. She exhaled shakily, her chest rising and falling against your lap in uneven rhythm. For a brief moment, she let herself sink into the comfort of your touch, her eyes fluttering shut as the steady motion soothed her frayed nerves.

But the ache inside her didn’t subside—it only grew sharper. Her thighs shifted restlessly, rubbing together as though seeking some kind of relief. The heat in her body was unbearable, the steady press of need building into a relentless thrum that clouded her thoughts. She bit her lip hard, trying to stifle the whimper rising in her throat, but it was a futile effort. Every stroke of your fingers through her hair, every subtle shift of your body beneath hers, only added fuel to the fire.

Her hands curled into loose fists, her nails digging lightly into her palms as she struggled to hold herself together. But it wasn’t enough. The weight of your control, the quiet calm you exuded, drove her to the brink. Finally, she shifted, her body trembling slightly as she propped herself up, turning to straddle your lap instead.

Her thighs pressed into yours as she settled, her hands clutching your chest for balance. Her head bowed for a moment, her breath hitching audibly as she fought to steady herself. When she finally looked up, her eyes met yours, wide and pleading, heavy with unspoken need. Her gaze dropped almost immediately, lingering on your waist, her lips parting slightly as though drawn by a magnetic force.

For a moment, she said nothing, her body frozen as she stewed in the unbearable tension coursing through her. Her hands tightened their grip on your shirt, her fingers trembling as the storm inside her reached a breaking point.

“You’re almost there,” you said finally, your voice calm but deliberate. The words sliced through the silence like a blade, steady and unrelenting.

Her head snapped up, her wide eyes locking onto yours. Her lips quivered, her body trembling against you as though the weight of your gaze alone might shatter her. “I…” she stammered, her voice breaking. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know how much longer I can—” She cut herself off with a soft sob, her hands curling tighter into the fabric of your shirt. “Please, I’ll do anything. Anything you want, just… I need you.”

Her voice cracked, and her hips shifted slightly as though searching for even the faintest relief. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, her desperation spilling out in frantic, unfiltered words. “I’ll never lie again. I’ll be better—I promise. Just, please…”

You watched her unravel in your lap, the composure she clung to crumbling entirely. Your hand moved to her hair again, threading your fingers through it as you guided her forehead to rest against yours. “Shhh,” you murmured softly, your voice calm and steady. “You’re so close, Natty. Just a little longer.”

Her sobs quieted slightly, though her body still trembled against you. “I’m trying,” she whimpered, her voice breaking with every word. “I’m really trying, but it’s too much. Please… just this once…”

Her thighs trembled as she pressed herself closer, her body seeking yours like it was the only thing grounding her. She let out another soft sob, burying her face in your shoulder as her hands clutched desperately at your shirt.

You pressed a kiss to her temple, the softness of the gesture making her shiver. “My sweet,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing. “You’re doing so well.”

The praise sent a shudder through her, and she clung to you tighter, her cries softening as she tried to steady herself. “I’ll be good,” she whispered brokenly. “I swear, I’ll do anything. I just—”

“Shhh,” you interrupted, your lips brushing against her cheek in a gentle kiss. “I know, I know it’s hard. But you can do this. Just hold on for me.”

Her shoulders shook as she nodded faintly, her sobs quieting further. “Okay,” she whispered shakily, her voice barely audible. She stayed there, sinking deeper into your embrace, letting your steady presence anchor her even as the ache inside her burned hotter with every second.

Your hand continued to stroke her hair, the motion slow and deliberate, a constant reassurance. Her body trembled against you, the heat radiating from her a tangible reminder of the control you still held. Despite the overwhelming need consuming her, she stayed, her trust in you unwavering as she endured the storm.

-----

Now finally the last day of the month has arrived.  Natty woke with a feeling she had never experienced before. Her body trembled as she stretched, but instead of relief, she felt an overwhelming tension in every muscle. A deep, relentless ache settled low in her belly, heavier and sharper than before, as though her body itself was protesting the month-long denial. It wasn’t just an ache—it was an all-encompassing sensation that left her feeling sick and shaky, her stomach tight and twisted. Every nerve felt raw, on edge, and her hypersensitivity made her skin prickle even under the lightest touch of the sheets.

She sat up slowly, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress as her head spun slightly. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, and she let out a soft, shaky breath, the tension inside her almost unbearable. Her stomach ached, a dull, throbbing reminder of how long she’d gone without release. It felt like an emptiness and a fullness at the same time, a contradiction that only heightened her frustration. The presence of the plug, which had remained snug all night, only amplified her torment. She could feel it with every small shift of her body—a teasing, maddening fullness that made her hyper aware of herself.

When she finally stood, her legs felt weak, her movements unsteady. Every step sent a faint jolt through her, the plug pressing deeper with even the slightest motion. It was as if her entire body had become a live wire, sparking with every touch, every shift, every breath. She shivered as she made her way out of the bedroom, her hands clutching the fabric of her oversized shirt as though grounding herself against the storm of sensations.

When she stepped into the living room, the light spilling softly through the windows, she found you lounging on the couch, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. You glanced up at her, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as your gaze swept over her. “Come here,” you said simply, patting your lap. “Lie down.”

Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she hesitated for only a second before obeying. She settled across your lap, her breaths quickening as your hands began to roam along her back, the pressure firm but soothing. Your touch was unhurried, tracing the curve of her spine, lingering lower until your fingers brushed against the waistband of her shorts. Without a word, you hooked your thumbs into the fabric and pulled them down, the cool air making her shiver as it hit her exposed skin.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as she felt your hand glide over her bare cheeks, the warmth of your palm contrasting against the coolness of the air. Her body betrayed her, a faint glisten of arousal catching the light. You chuckled softly, the sound low and teasing. “Dripping already?” you murmured, giving one cheek a firm squeeze. “You’re really something, Natty.”

Her breath hitched, her body quivering as she buried her face in her arms. Before she could respond, she felt something cool and slick press against her other entrance. Her muscles tensed instinctively, her head snapping up as she stammered, “Wait, what are you—?”

“Shh,” you murmured, your voice calm but commanding as you pressed the small plug in slowly. Her breath hitched audibly, her body jerking forward as the sensation hit her all at once. A soft yelp escaped her lips, her walls clenching reflexively as her thighs trembled.

“Hold it,” you instructed firmly, your hand resting lightly on her back. “You’ll keep it there all day.”

“I—I don’t think I can,” she stammered, her face burning with embarrassment and arousal.

“You can,” you replied, your tone leaving no room for argument. “And you will.”

She whimpered softly, her breaths uneven as she adjusted to the sensation. The fullness teased her relentlessly, and every small movement made her hyper aware of its presence. The ache between her legs grew sharper, more insistent, as if her body was begging for relief that wouldn’t come. Even standing felt like a challenge; the plug shifted slightly with each step, sending ripples of sensation through her core.

The day had barely begun, and yet she already felt as though she was teetering on the edge. The plug amplified everything—every touch, every brush of fabric, every faint movement. She couldn’t escape it, and with every moment that passed, the ache inside her burned hotter, making her tremble with the effort of holding herself together. Midnight felt impossibly far away.

You didn’t let her rest today—not for a single moment. The relentless presence of the plug became a constant torment, every shift of her body driving the fullness deeper, teasing her in ways she couldn’t escape. Throughout the day, you made her bend over to “check�� that it was still in place, a smug reminder of your control. Each time, your hand slid along her folds, your fingers brushing lightly against her slick, swollen skin. The wetness clung to you, undeniable evidence of her unrelenting arousal.

Her breaths came in sharp gasps during these moments, her body trembling as she struggled to remain still. The faintest touch sent shivers down her spine, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her. She whimpered softly, the sound involuntary, her thighs quivering as the effort of holding herself together grew increasingly futile.

“You’re holding up well,” you teased after one such inspection, your fingers hovering just close enough to make her whimper again. The sound was high and needy, betraying her desperation. “Though it looks like you’re ready to explode already.”

Her cheeks burned a deep crimson, and she turned her face away, unable to meet your amused gaze. Her thighs pressed tightly together, her body shuddering as she struggled to steady her breathing. The plug teased her with every movement, amplifying her sensitivity to unbearable levels, and the ache between her legs became an all-consuming pulse.

But you weren’t done. Your teasing was deliberate and constant, turning the mundane moments of her day into unrelenting torment. A casual grope of her chest as she walked past made her gasp, her nipples hardening under your touch as a jolt of sensation shot through her. Your hand would slide up her shirt without warning, your fingers brushing against her sensitive peaks, leaving her trembling and breathless.

When she bent down to retrieve something, you delivered sharp smacks to her exposed cheeks, the sound echoing through the room as her hips jolted forward. Each time, the plug shifted slightly, pressing deeper inside her, and she let out a strangled moan, her hands gripping whatever surface was nearest for support.

At one point, while she was bent over cleaning the counter, you delivered a particularly firm smack. The force sent the plug pushing deeper, and the sudden wave of sensation made her cry out softly. Her hands clutched the countertop, her knuckles white as her body trembled uncontrollably. Her breaths came in short, uneven bursts, and her legs quaked as she tried—and failed—to regain her composure.

“Careful,” you murmured, leaning close to her ear. Your voice was laced with amusement, dripping with controlled authority. “I wouldn’t want you to lose control now.”

She shuddered, her head dipping as another soft whimper escaped her lips. Her body burned with arousal, her skin tingling as though every nerve ending had come alive. Every teasing touch, every lingering squeeze of your hand left her trembling, her body responding instantly as though begging for more. She was aware of everything—the brush of fabric against her sensitive skin, the cool air that contrasted with the heat radiating from her core, the relentless presence of the plug that made every movement feel like a deliberate act of torment.

By mid-afternoon, she was a trembling mess. Her breaths were shallow and uneven, her body quaking as she navigated the relentless teasing and the ache that had only grown sharper, hotter, with every passing moment. The fullness of the plug heightened her sensitivity, making even the smallest movements feel exaggerated. A shift of her hips, a brush of her thighs—each one sent jolts of need spiraling through her, leaving her gasping and desperate.

Her arousal radiated off her in waves, the heat between her legs becoming an all-consuming ache. It seeped into every part of her, making her feel like she was on the verge of breaking. Every glance from you, every calculated touch, only made it worse. She could barely think about anything else, her mind entirely consumed by the promise of relief she couldn’t yet have.

The promise of midnight was the only thing grounding her, a beacon at the end of her torment. But as the minutes dragged on and each moment stretched longer than the last, she began to wonder just how much more she could take. The hours ahead loomed like an eternity, and her body burned with the need to finally be free.

-----

Once the final moments were minutes away, Natty was a trembling wreck. She couldn’t muster excitement, couldn’t even speak. The month-long denial had consumed her entirely, leaving her a quivering, needy mess. Every step she took sent faint jolts through her hypersensitive body, her thighs slick with a constant reminder of her arousal. Her mind swirled with one singular thought—relief. Midnight was so close, yet it felt infinitely far away.

You watched her silently as she hovered near you, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. The air between you was electric, charged with her desperation and your unshakable calm. Finally, you broke the silence.

“Bedroom,” you said, your voice calm but commanding. “Now.”

She didn’t hesitate. Her trembling hands reached for the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her head in one fluid motion. Her shorts followed, discarded in a heap on the floor, leaving her completely bare before you. There was no need to ask—her eagerness, her desperation, was written across her flushed cheeks and trembling limbs.

Natty lay back on the bed, her legs slightly parted, her body trembling uncontrollably. Every breath she took was shallow and uneven, her body strung tight with anticipation and desperation. Her wide, pleading eyes locked onto yours as you retrieved the wand vibrator from the nightstand, its weight in your hand a promise of what was to come.

“You’ve waited this long,” you murmured, sitting beside her. Your voice was calm, soothing, but carried an unyielding authority. “But understand this—if you cum before midnight, it’s another month.”

Her breath hitched, her body stiffening as the weight of your words sank in. A shudder passed through her, and her lips parted as though to protest, but no sound came. The mere thought of another month was impossible to comprehend. She didn’t even know how she had survived this one. Her stomach churned, and a small, desperate whimper escaped her lips.

“Do you understand, Natty?” you asked, your voice steady but firm.

She nodded quickly, tears welling in her eyes. “Y-yes… I understand.” Her voice cracked, the fear and arousal mingling into a trembling whisper.

With a faint smirk, you picked up the vibrator, letting it press firmly against her swollen clit without turning it on. The weight alone was enough to make her react—a sharp intake of breath followed by a faint whimper as her hips shifted instinctively, seeking more. The glistening slickness between her legs caught the dim light, pooling against the toy and betraying just how close she was to the edge already.

You watched her closely, your calm demeanor a stark contrast to the tremors racking her body. “So needy,” you murmured, your voice low and deliberate. “Leaking onto the sheets, and I haven’t even turned it on.”

Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her thighs trembling as she tried to press them together only to fail against your positioning. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles white as she fought the overwhelming tension building inside her. “P-please,” she stammered, her voice trembling and barely audible.

“Not yet,” you said, your tone firm but calm. Your gaze flicked briefly to the clock. “It’s not time.”

Her body jerked slightly at the reminder, her thighs quivering as the pressure from the vibrator sent faint pulses of sensation through her. The seconds stretched endlessly, each one feeling like an eternity as she teetered on the precipice. Her breaths grew more frantic, her chest rising and falling with each shallow gasp, her entire body betraying her desperate need.

Without warning, your free hand moved downward, your fingers brushing lightly over the curve of her ass. You hooked a finger under the base of the plug, tugging gently. The sensation elicited a sharp cry from her, her hips bucking against the pressure. Her arousal spilled out even more, a slick warmth pooling between her thighs and glistening against her skin.

Her moans turned into incoherent whimpers as her body trembled violently. “Oh God—” she gasped, her voice cracking as the mix of sensations overwhelmed her.

You brought your finger to the slick mess, scooping some onto your fingertip. With deliberate slowness, you raised it to your mouth, tasting her arousal. The faint hum of approval you let out sent another shiver through her. “So sweet,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. “And all mine.”

Her body jerked again, her eyes squeezing shut as her hands clawed desperately at the sheets. The combination of sensations—the press of the vibrator, the tug on the plug, and your deliberate tasting of her—pushed her to the very edge.

Finally, the clock hit 11:59. Without a word, you turned the vibrator on, its low hum filling the room.

The moment the vibrator sprang to life, Natty’s body reacted as if it had been struck by lightning. A high-pitched yelp escaped her lips, her hips jerking against the relentless vibration. Tears filled her eyes as she clutched the sheets, her body writhing uncontrollably, her thighs trembling with effort. The first wave of sensation crashed over her, and she wasn’t ready for the intensity. She quivered like a bowstring pulled too tight, every muscle taut, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe.

“Hold on,” you commanded, your tone calm but firm.

Her sobs came softly at first, as if she were trying to hold them back, but the effort only made them more pitiful. Her lips parted, trembling, and a faint whimper escaped. Her hands clutched the sheets tightly, her nails digging into the fabric as her entire body quaked beneath the relentless assault of the vibrations.

Her thighs pressed together instinctively, but the relentless pressure of the toy against her swollen clit made every movement a torment. Her hips shifted involuntarily, as though her body were trying to escape and chase the sensation at the same time. Her skin glistened with sweat, her face flushed a deep crimson as tears streaked her cheeks. Her breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, her chest rising and falling as she struggled against the unbearable tension coiling inside her.

You leaned closer, your hand resting gently on her abdomen, your voice a steady anchor. “You’ve made it this far, Natty,” you murmured, your tone soft but resolute. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Her eyes widened as another wave of sensation crashed over her, her sobs growing louder and more frantic. Her body arched off the bed, the vibrations driving her closer to the edge. “I—” she stammered, her voice cracking as she fought to find her words. “I don’t think I can—I can’t do it! I need to cum!”

“A little more, baby,” you replied firmly, your gaze locking onto hers. “Trust me, you can do this.”

Her body convulsed, her hips grinding helplessly against the unyielding vibrator. The wet sounds of her arousal filled the room, mingling with her desperate cries. Her slickness coated the toy, betraying the depth of her need. She whimpered again, shaking her head as tears flowed freely, her thighs trembling violently.

Finally, you extended your hand to her. “Here,” you said softly, offering it like a lifeline. “Hold on to me.”

Her trembling fingers latched onto yours with surprising strength, gripping as though your hand were the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. Her nails bit into your skin, but you didn’t flinch, letting her anchor herself in the gesture. “You’re halfway there,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing, an oasis of calm amid her chaos.

Her breaths came in ragged bursts, her sobs hitching with every sharp inhale as her body quaked uncontrollably. She clung to your hand as if it were the only solid thing in a world of overwhelming sensation. Her lips moved, trying to form words, but all that escaped were soft, broken whimpers, desperate and raw. The tension in her body was unbearable, her chest heaving as her thighs quaked, every nerve ending alive with unbearable intensity.

You glanced at the clock, your own breath steady as the final stretch approached. Her body tensed further, every muscle pulled taut as though she were a bowstring ready to snap.

“Ten,” you began, your voice calm and deliberate, a grounding presence in her storm.

Natty gasped sharply, her entire body stiffening as the vibrations pushed her closer to the edge. Her nails dug deeper into your hand, her legs trembling as she whimpered softly.

“Nine,” you continued, your eyes locked on her.

She shook her head, her eyes wide and glossy with tears. Her lips trembled as a desperate whimper escaped her throat. “It’s too much,” she whispered, her voice cracking. The relentless hum of the vibrator against her clit made her legs quiver uncontrollably.

“Eight.”

Her back arched, her body bucking involuntarily as she let out a strangled cry. “I—I can’t—I can’t!” she sobbed, her tears streaking down her flushed cheeks.

“You’re stronger than this, Natty,” you said calmly, your voice steady and grounding as you brushed her hair back from her sweat-dampened forehead. “You’ve made it this far.”

“Seven.”

Her breathing turned ragged, each gasp shallow and desperate as her hips jerked against the unyielding pressure. The wetness between her legs spread further, the slick sounds of her arousal filling the room. “Please,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Please—I can’t hold it!”

“Six.”

Her nails raked against your hand, her grip tightening as though holding you was the only thing keeping her grounded. Her sobs grew louder, raw and broken as her body writhed beneath the unrelenting assault. Her thighs quivered violently, every muscle trembling with tension.

“Five.”

She let out a guttural moan, her hips grinding involuntarily against the vibrator. “I’m trying—I swear, I’m trying!” she cried, her voice thick with desperation. Her tears flowed freely now, her face flushed and damp as she clung to your hand with all her strength.

“Four.”

Her breath hitched, each exhale turning into a ragged sob as she whimpered, “I can’t do this! I can’t—I’m going to—” Her hips bucked harder, her thighs trembling uncontrollably as her body convulsed against the sheets.

“Three.”

You leaned closer, your breath brushing warmly against her ear. “You’re so close, Natty,” you murmured softly. “Don’t give up now.”

Her lips parted as if to plead, but the only sound that escaped was a desperate, high-pitched whimper. Her chest heaved as her body fought against the overwhelming pleasure, her tears soaking into the pillow beneath her head.

“Two.”

Her entire frame was trembling violently now, her nails digging into your hand as her body teetered on the brink. “Please,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “Please, I need to—I can’t stop it—I need to—”

“Hold on,” you commanded, your voice calm but firm, grounding her with the unshakable authority in your tone.

“One.”

Your voice remained steady as you carefully balanced the vibrator against her swollen clit, the relentless hum sending vibrations coursing through her. Slowly, deliberately, you pulled your hands away, leaving the toy perfectly poised against her trembling body. At first, she didn’t even notice your absence—her mind was fogged with overwhelming need, her focus entirely consumed by the mounting pressure tearing through her.

“Now, Natty,” you murmured softly, your tone calm yet commanding, slicing through the haze clouding her mind.

Her eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused, just as your hands moved to her chest. Your fingers found her sensitive nipples, pinching them lightly before tugging them upward with deliberate precision. The sharp pull elicited a desperate cry from her lips, her hips bucking instinctively against the vibrator. The motion was reflexive, her body torn between seeking relief from the intensity and craving even more of it.

The sensations converged like a tidal wave—the relentless vibrations teasing her folds, the sharp tug on her swollen nipples, and the persistent fullness of the plug nestled deep inside her, pressing in with every trembling movement. Together, they built into an unrelenting storm of pleasure, crashing through her body and leaving no room for control.

Her body stiffened like a bowstring drawn tight, quivering for a suspended second before breaking. And then she shattered. Her back arched violently off the bed, the tendons in her neck straining as her climax slammed into her with unrelenting force. A scream tore from her throat, raw and guttural, reverberating through the room like a primal release.

 “Ahhh! F-FUCK!”, her voice cracking under the weight of the pleasure ripping through her. 

Natty’s legs snapped shut involuntarily, trapping the vibrator tightly between her trembling thighs. The added pressure amplified the vibrations to an unbearable intensity, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her already over-sensitized body. Her back arched off the bed, her abs contracting so hard it felt like they might cramp, every muscle in her body taut as a bowstring. 

The fullness of the plug in her ass only heightened everything, pressing deeper with every spasm of her climax. It felt like her body was tearing apart and coming together simultaneously, every nerve ending alight with sensations so intense they blurred the line between pleasure and pain. She writhed uncontrollably, her head pressing back into the mattress as her trembling hands clawed at the sheets. Her fingers twisted the fabric into fists, her grip so tight her knuckles turned white, desperate for something—anything—to anchor her in the storm raging through her.

“Oh my God—AGH! FUCK, FUCK!” she wailed, her voice breaking into fractured sobs as wave after wave of climax overwhelmed her. Her thighs quivered violently, her entire lower half slick with arousal as the glistening evidence of her release pooled beneath her. The wet, lewd sounds of her trembling movements only added to the intensity, driving her further into a pleasure so consuming it left her mind blank and incoherent.

Her abs cramped again, the sharp ache blending into the relentless throbbing of her core. Every pulse of her body felt magnified a hundredfold. Her nipples, still under the firm grip of your fingers, sent jolts of electric pleasure-pain through her chest with every tug and pinch. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, her sobs turning into hiccupping gasps as she struggled to breathe through the overwhelming sensation.

Her vision blurred, the edges of the room fading into a haze of white-hot pleasure. Her thoughts dissolved entirely, her mind unable to focus on anything but the torrent of ecstasy ripping through her. Another scream tore from her throat as her hips bucked helplessly, her body caught in an unrelenting rhythm that wasn’t hers to control.

Her legs trembled violently, the muscles quaking beneath the strain of holding the vibrator in place. Her toes curled and uncurled, the tension radiating from her core to every extremity. She felt utterly consumed, her body reacting on instinct, every motion drawing out the climax until it seemed endless.

Finally, the vibrations began to ease, but her body didn’t stop. The aftershocks rippled through her, smaller waves of pleasure making her twitch uncontrollably. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air, her breaths ragged and uneven. Her limbs felt heavy, trembling faintly as they fell limply to her sides.

Tears continued to streak down her face, her cheeks stained with the evidence of her release. Her entire body glistened with sweat, her skin flushed and glowing in the dim light of the room. Even as her climax began to fade, the plug’s fullness sent tiny, lingering jolts of pleasure radiating outward, leaving her hypersensitive and raw.

You leaned forward, brushing a strand of damp hair from her forehead with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the intensity she had just endured. Her glassy eyes fluttered open, unfocused and hazy, a soft moan escaping her lips as her gaze found yours. The exhaustion in her face was mingled with something else—a quiet, unspoken gratitude.

“You did it, Natty. You’re incredible,” you murmured softly, your voice a warm balm as you brushed a strand of damp hair away from her flushed face. The praise seemed to wrap around her like a blanket, soothing her trembling form as she melted into the mattress, her body finally surrendering to the sweet, blissful exhaustion.

A shuddering breath escaped her lips, her chest heaving with the effort of coming down from the most intense climax of her life. “Thank you…” she whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking under the weight of her relief. Her words were barely audible, trembling with emotion, as her body sank deeper into the bed. She looked utterly wrecked—her cheeks damp with tears, her thighs still quivering faintly, her entire form radiating the afterglow of release.

You sat beside her, your touch gentle as your hand trailed down her arm, your fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on her damp skin. She flinched slightly, her body still hyper-sensitive, but she didn’t pull away. For the first time in weeks, the relentless ache inside her was gone, replaced by a deep, blissful emptiness. Her head lolled to the side, her eyelids fluttering as she floated in the haze of her release. It was a quiet, almost dreamlike state, her mind too overwhelmed to process anything beyond the moment.

For a time, she simply lay there, her breaths coming in slow, ragged bursts. Her body felt weightless, untethered, her thoughts drifting aimlessly as she savored the sweet relief coursing through her. It was everything she had been waiting for—everything she thought she needed.

But as the haze began to lift, her breaths steadied, and a flicker of awareness returned to her gaze. Her glassy eyes blinked open, meeting yours with a dazed vulnerability. The raw emotion in her expression was undeniable—gratitude, relief, and something else, something that lingered in the shadows of her desire.

At first, she didn’t move, her lips parting slightly as though to speak, but no words came. The stillness between you stretched, heavy and charged, until the quiet became almost unbearable.

Then, she inhaled sharply, her voice soft and trembling. “I… I need more.” you felt the tension between you shift, her words a soft, desperate confession that hung heavy in the air.

“Greedy, aren’t we?” you teased, setting the vibrator aside as you leaned closer. The smirk on your lips held no malice, only satisfaction. Her wide, pleading eyes followed your every move as you began to undress. Each button you loosened, each piece of fabric you shed, only heightened her anticipation. Her breaths came faster, her chest rising and falling as she watched your body come into view, her gaze lingering with raw hunger.

Climbing onto the bed, you positioned yourself between her trembling thighs. She spread her legs instinctively, her body quaking beneath you, her slick folds glistening with arousal as she waited for you to fill her. You lined yourself up with her entrance, pausing just long enough to meet her gaze. The raw desperation in her eyes was enough to send a thrill down your spine.

As you pressed into her, the sound she made was somewhere between a gasp and a cry, her hypersensitive body reacting instantly. The tight, wet heat of her clamped around you, her back arching off the bed as she cried out. Her nails dug into your shoulders, her hands clutching you as though you were the only thing keeping her grounded.

“You waited so well,” you murmured against her ear, your voice thick with approval as your hips began to move with deliberate force. “Now, you get all of me.”

Her sobbing moans filled the room, each thrust drawing a broken, needy sound from her lips. She writhed beneath you, her body impossibly responsive to every motion. Your hands moved to her chest, kneading her soft, full breasts, your thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples with teasing strokes. Each touch sent a jolt through her, her breath hitching sharply as her hips bucked instinctively to meet you. Her thighs quivered on either side of you, trembling with the strain of holding back the overwhelming sensations coursing through her.

Leaning down, your mouth found one of her nipples, tugging it gently between your lips. You sucked softly at first, your tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before you increased the pressure, tugging firmly enough to draw a cry from her throat. Her back arched off the bed, her chest pressing further into your touch as her hands clutched desperately at your shoulders.

The plug inside her added another layer of sensation, shifting slightly with each of your movements. The fullness it brought combined with the relentless drive of your thrusts, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her walls fluttered around you, a desperate clench that pulled you deeper as she gasped for air.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” you murmured against her skin, your lips brushing against her nipple as your hands continued to explore her soft curves. “God, I love your tits. Made for me to touch, to taste.”

Your teeth grazed her nipple, tugging lightly before sucking hard enough to make her cry out. “Look at how they react for me,” you growled, your voice thick with need as you pinched the neglected peak between your fingers. “So soft, so full. They’re mine, Natty. All mine.”

Her breath hitched at your words, her thighs trembling as her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer. “They’re yours,” she whimpered, her voice cracking. “All yours.”

You smirked against her skin, your tongue tracing lazy circles around her sensitive peak before moving to the other. “That’s right,” you growled, your tone possessive. “Every inch of you is mine. Look at how much you need me. Your body can’t hide it.”

Her walls clenched around you again, her moans turning into desperate, high-pitched cries as you continued to drive into her relentlessly. Each thrust sent her spiraling further into ecstasy, her body reacting to every movement with an intensity that bordered on overwhelming.

Shifting your position, you pulled back slightly, your hands sliding down to grip her thighs firmly. With deliberate care, you lifted her legs and pressed them upward, trapping them against her chest. Your knees pinned her in place, holding her completely open and vulnerable in a perfect mating press. The change in angle made her gasp sharply, her wide, hazy eyes locking onto yours.

“You look so fucking good like this,” you murmured, your voice low and dripping with satisfaction. “Completely mine.”

The next thrust sent her screaming, her entire body jolting as you hit that spot deep inside her that made her vision blur. Her nails raked against your arms, her head tossing back against the pillow as her voice broke into desperate cries.

“Right there,” you growled, your eyes locked on her face, watching the way her expression twisted in bliss. “I can feel how much you love it. So fucking tight, clenching around me like you don’t want me to stop.”

Her sobs grew louder, her legs trembling against your chest as her body quaked with every deep, deliberate thrust. You leaned forward slightly, your grip tightening on her thighs as you drove into her harder, deeper, each motion pushing her closer to the edge

“Don’t stop!” she sobbed, her voice breaking as her walls fluttered desperately around you. “Oh, God—please, just—just like that!”

Each powerful thrust jolted her body downward, her back bouncing against the mattress only to rise again to meet you, the force of your movements sending ripples of sensation through her trembling form. The angle of the mating press left her completely at your mercy, her legs pinned upward and her body open to every deep, deliberate motion. Each plunge drove into her so deeply that she gasped, her nails raking frantically across the sheets in a futile attempt to anchor herself.

Her cries climbed in pitch, the tremor in her voice betraying how close she was to unraveling. “Oh my God—ah! Please, please!” she sobbed, her thighs twitching violently as the relentless rhythm pushed her to the edge. The slick sound of your bodies meeting echoed in the room, mingling with her desperate cries, the evidence of her arousal pooling beneath her on the bed.

Her chest heaved, her full, sensitive breasts brushing against your chest with each thrust. The friction only heightened her pleasure, her hardened nipples sending electric jolts through her trembling body every time they grazed against your skin. Her walls clamped down on you rhythmically, pulling you deeper, the overwhelming sensations making her feel as though she might shatter.

Sensing how close she was, you shifted with deliberate precision. Your hands slid from her thighs, snaking beneath her legs until they found the soft, round curves of her ass. You cupped her cheeks firmly, your fingers digging into the plush flesh as you lifted her hips off the mattress slightly. The adjustment pulled her even deeper onto you, the angle driving you into her sweet spot with devastating accuracy. Each thrust sent her body jolting violently against yours, the new position leaving her utterly breathless.

Her cries became incoherent, her head tossing back against the pillow as she writhed beneath you. “Oh—oh fuck!” she screamed, her voice cracking as another wave of sensation tore through her. Her nails scraped down your back, leaving fiery trails in their wake, her trembling fingers clutching at you desperately.

Your mouth descended to one of her taut, begging nipples, capturing it with your lips as your thrusts never faltered. You sucked hard, tugging and flicking your tongue against the sensitive peak in perfect rhythm with your movements. Her back arched sharply, a strangled cry escaping her lips as her entire body seemed to tighten beneath you. The way her walls clenched around you made your own need burn hotter, driving you to push her even further.

“You’re mine,” you murmured against her heated skin, your voice low and possessive. You squeezed her other breast firmly, kneading it with one hand while your fingers rolled her nipple between them, tugging and twisting just enough to make her gasp. Each motion sent another shockwave through her trembling frame, her moans escalating into desperate, high-pitched whimpers.

“Fuck,” you growled, your tone thick with desire as your eyes met hers, hazy and overwhelmed with pleasure. “You’re taking all of me. So tight, so perfect—you were made for this. Made for me.”

Her body answered in kind, her walls fluttering uncontrollably around you as the pressure inside her built to an unbearable peak. Her thighs quaked against your sides, trembling as her body instinctively tried to match your relentless rhythm, every nerve alight with overwhelming sensation.

The fullness inside her was all-consuming. The plug pressed deeply, amplifying every thrust as it heightened the sensation of your length stretching and filling her. The dual pressure left her gasping, her breaths shallow and uneven, her mind reeling as she balanced on the knife’s edge of ecstasy.

When you thrust even deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside her with relentless precision, her body couldn’t take it anymore. Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, crashing through her with violent force. Her scream tore through the room, raw and guttural, as her walls clamped down on you in an unrelenting grip. “AAGH! Fuck—oh, fuck! I—I can’t—” Her words dissolved into incoherent sobs, her hands scrambling desperately for purchase against your shoulders, pulling you closer as her body shattered beneath you.

Her muscles tensed and released in rapid, uncontrollable spasms, her thighs trembling violently as her body gave itself over to the release she’d been denied for so long. The intensity of her climax rivaled her previous, earth shattering one., her body jerking with each wave as tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. She could feel every inch of you inside her, the fullness making her dizzy as her mind blurred into a haze of white-hot pleasure.

You didn’t stop. Your hands gripped her soft cheeks tighter, lifting her hips slightly as you pressed even deeper into her. The angle drove you against every sensitive nerve inside her, pulling even more desperate cries from her lips. Her walls rippled around you, milking you with each spasm as her release seemed endless, her trembling form unable to settle as the aftershocks kept her teetering on the brink.

Your climax hit like a flood, every pulse of release spilling deep inside her as your body trembled against hers. Each spurt of warmth was thick and heavy, filling her completely, and the sensation drew a sharp, trembling gasp from her lips. Her eyes flew open, wide with shock and arousal, as she clung to you with trembling hands.

“Oh my God,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible, her words catching in her throat as the sensation overwhelmed her. “So much…” Her thighs quivered uncontrollably, pressing tightly against your sides as her oversensitive body reacted to every movement, every pulse.

The heat of your release spread slowly, the fullness consuming her entirely. She could feel the weight of it settling deep inside her, combining with the unyielding presence of the plug to leave her utterly stuffed. Her walls fluttered around you, squeezing reflexively as though her body couldn’t bear to let go of even a drop.

Her breathing hitched as she whimpered again, the faintest shift of her hips causing another jolt of sensation to ripple through her. “I can feel it,” she whispered, her voice cracking, her cheeks flushing even deeper as her hands clung to your arms. “It’s… so much,” she sobbed softly, her words breaking into shaky, uneven breaths.

You didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, you stayed buried inside her, letting the warmth of your bodies meld together. Each faint twitch of her inner walls drew a soft groan from you, the intensity of her aftershocks still gripping you as she trembled beneath you. Her thighs shook against your hips, the muscles twitching as if her body was trying to process the overwhelming fullness.

Your hands slid down her sides, grounding her as she whimpered again, her nails digging faintly into your skin. “I… I can’t believe…” she stammered, her voice trembling as her head fell back against the pillow. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath, the slickness between you evidence of just how thoroughly you’d filled her.

Her body relaxed gradually, the tension in her muscles giving way to the soft, warm haze of afterglow. But even as she melted into you, her oversensitive body still twitched faintly with each aftershock. She blinked slowly, her gaze glassy and unfocused as a faint, dazed smile curved her lips.

Leaning down, you brushed your lips against her damp forehead, your breaths mingling as you murmured, “You were perfect, Natty. Every single part of you.”

Her body slackened beneath you, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. The combination of your warmth inside her, the lingering tension of the plug, and the complete fulfillment of finally letting go left her trembling. Yet, despite her exhaustion, her arms tightened around you, her hands resting against your back as though she was afraid to let you go.

Her lips curled into a faint, exhausted smile, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you…” The words were soft, raw with emotion, her head tilting slightly to nuzzle against your shoulder. Her breath tickled your skin as she sighed deeply, a sound that carried both relief and contentment.

You stayed close, your fingers tracing gentle circles along her thighs, soothing the trembling muscles. The room was still, the quiet filled only with the sound of your breathing and the occasional faint whimper as her body adjusted to the overwhelming sensations still radiating through her. The intimacy of the moment held you both in its grasp, neither of you willing to break the connection.

As your muscles began to relax, you shifted slightly, preparing to pull back. But the moment you started to move, her legs clamped around you, her hands gripping your shoulders with surprising strength. “No,” she whispered, her voice soft but insistent. “Don’t… not yet.”

You stilled, your gaze meeting hers. Her wide, vulnerable eyes held a pleading look that spoke volumes, and you felt her inner walls flutter faintly around you, still pulsing in the aftermath of her climax. “I need this,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “Stay… please.”

You exhaled softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her lips. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice warm and reassuring. “I’ll stay.”

Her body relaxed again beneath you, her legs loosening slightly but still holding you close. She shifted just enough to get comfortable, her head nestled into the crook of your neck, her breaths warm against your skin. The intimacy was almost overwhelming, the feeling of being so deeply connected both physically and emotionally grounding you both.

Time seemed to blur as the exhaustion began to take over. Her body molded against yours, her hands resting lightly on your back as her breaths evened out. Despite the fullness she still felt, her body relaxed entirely. It wasn’t discomfort anymore; it was a sense of being whole, of closeness she didn’t want to end.

“Natty,” you murmured softly, brushing your lips against her temple. “I’m just moving us. I’ve got you.”

She hummed in acknowledgment, her voice barely audible as her head nestled further into the crook of your neck. Carefully, you rolled her over, cradling her as you shifted until she was on top of you. The change in position was smoother than expected, her lighter frame settling easily against your chest. She sighed softly, her cheek pressed to your collarbone, her body melting into yours like she belonged there.

“This is better,” you murmured, your hands tracing soothing patterns along her back. “Easier for me to hold you.”

She mumbled something incoherent, her voice thick with exhaustion and satisfaction. The warmth of her breath against your skin made you smile, and you began to pepper soft kisses across her face. You started at her temple, trailing down to her cheek, then across the bridge of her nose. Each kiss was tender, deliberate, a quiet celebration of everything you’d just shared.

“You’re so good, Natty,” you murmured between kisses. “You’ve been incredible.”

She hummed again, the sound low and contented, her lips curving into the faintest smile. Her body relaxed even further against yours, the tension completely melting away as your words wrapped around her.

Your hands moved to her hair, threading through the strands gently as you continued to speak. “You’re everything I need,” you whispered, your voice soft and warm. “I’m so proud of you. So proud of how far you’ve come.”

Her arms tightened around you, her fingers clutching softly at your sides as she sighed deeply. The rise and fall of her chest against yours slowed, her breathing evening out as her exhaustion began to take over. Her head tilted slightly, her lips brushing against your collarbone in a gesture so faint it was almost subconscious.

As her breathing deepened, you felt her weight grow heavier against you, her body finally succumbing to sleep. You wrapped your arms more securely around her, pressing one final kiss to her forehead as her face relaxed into the softest expression of peace.

“Sweet dreams, Natty,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

The room fell into a tranquil stillness, the quiet intimacy wrapping around you both as you closed your eyes. Still connected, still grounded in each other, you let sleep take you, the warmth of her presence the last thing you felt before drifting off.

Afterward, she lay curled against your chest, her body trembling faintly as the intensity of the night ebbed away. Her breaths were soft and uneven, her cheek pressed against your skin, her warmth melding into yours. You brushed a hand through her hair, your fingers threading gently through the damp strands as you pressed a tender kiss to her temple.

“You did it,” you murmured, your voice low and filled with pride. “You made it. And you were perfect.”

Her lips curved into a soft, sleepy smile, her eyes fluttering closed. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice fragile and barely audible, as though speaking too loudly would break the delicate serenity of the moment.

You smirked slightly, the corner of your mouth lifting as your hand drifted to her back, tracing lazy circles against her skin. The rhythmic motion was soothing, grounding her as she nestled closer into your embrace. “Don’t forget this feeling, Natty,” you said, your tone steady but laced with affection. “You earned it.”

A soft hum escaped her lips, her exhaustion pulling her deeper into the comfort of your arms. Her body slackened, her breathing evening out as she surrendered completely, her trust in you evident in every relaxed line of her form.

You lay there quietly, the room settling into a peaceful stillness. The faint scent of her lingered in the air, a reminder of the passion and vulnerability she’d shared with you. A quiet pride swelled in your chest. She had given herself over to you fully, trusted you with every part of herself, and in return, you’d given her everything she had needed—and more.

As she drifted into sleep, her body curled protectively against yours, you held her close, your hand never stopping its soothing motion. For now, the storm was over, and you both could bask in the calm it left behind.

[itneverendshere]

Could you please write btchy!pogue where shes the one whos jealous this time and rafe savors the moment.

don't like the way she's looking - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x raf

the cut had a party tonight, like most summer nights.

the music was loud enough to shake the ground, beer kegs were getting drained faster than anyone could fill them, and people packed into the yard like sardines. 

it wasn’t fancy, but that was the point, pogue parties weren’t about appearances, you showed up, you drank, you made some bad decisions under the string lights, and you went home.

it wasn’t your favorite kind of night, but rafe had convinced you to come out, promising it’d just be a chill hangout. he lied.

instead of spending the night with you, he’s currently perched by his truck, surrounded by a rotating cast of pogues. you’re leaning against a beat-up picnic table, a half-warm beer in your hand, keeping one eye on rafe while he did his thing. 

by “his thing,” you mean selling weed to every pogue with a crumpled-up twenty and a dream.

to his credit, this is probably his best hustle yet.

rafe cameron, reformed asshole, and your probationary boyfriend, has somehow turned himself into the cut’s go-to dealer. it’s a whole thing, people like him now, which is fine. 

good for him, whatever, but some people like him a little too much. 

case in point? the girl currently throwing herself at him like a damn frisbee. you clocked her the second she strutted over. 

she wasn’t subtle about it, either—crop top hanging so low she might as well not have bothered, denim shorts so short they were illegal in some states. she’s leaning against his truck, like she’s in some fuck ass music video, her body language loud and clear. It’s the hand on his arm that does it for you. 

that, and her laugh. 

jesus, her laugh. high-pitched and fake, like a dying bird trying to flirt.

you’ve been rolling her eyes from the second she started talking, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. 

“you’re really good at this whole business thing, huh? bet you’re good at lots of things.”

you gag audibly from your spot, but of course, she doesn’t hear you. 

rafe, for his part, looks mildly amused but doesn’t say anything. still, you stay put, you’re not here to play babysitter. he’s not that stupid—he’ll shut her down. 

he better.

her next move is placing her hand on his arm. on. his. arm.

like she isn’t aware that his girlfriend is sitting fifteen feet away, the audacity. she’s batting her lashes and laughing at something he says like he’s the funniest guy alive, and you can see his shoulders stiffen, the slight step back he takes when she puts her hands on him.

“so, like,” she giggles, twirling a piece of hair around her finger, “what if i can’t, you know... pay in cash? ’m sure we could work something else out?”

rafe’s reaction is immediate, “i have a girlfriend.”

“oh,” her pout deepens. “that’s fine. she doesn’t have to know.”

at that, he laughs—an incredulous, slightly panicked laugh, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “yeah, see, that’s not gonna work for me.”

she doesn’t take the hint. 

instead, she tilts her head, giving him what you’re sure she thinks it’s a seductive look. “c'mon, rafe. it’s just a little fun, bet she wouldn’t even care.”

you freeze mid-sip of your beer, brain short-circuiting.

you slam it down on the table so hard it splashes everywhere, your vision zeroing in on her like a predator spotting prey. you’re halfway across the yard before you realize you’re moving.

oh, you care, you care a lot.

rafe’s already holding his hands up like he’s trying to ward her off. “don’t know what you think is happening here, but it’s not. i’m not interested.”

“not interested in me?” she asks, like the idea is physically painful.

“correct,” you announce loudly, “he’s not interested. crazy, right?”

she squares her shoulders and glares at you. “who are you?”

“hi, i’m the girlfriend” you shoot back, “just wondering if you’re planning on embarrassing yourself any more tonight or if that’s it?”

rafe rubs the back of his neck, looking between amused and mildly terrified, “baby—”

“don’t ‘baby’ me, cameron,” you snap, shooting him a glare before turning your attention back to the girl. she’s still standing there, trying to figure out if she should fight or flight.

smart money would’ve been on flight, but apparently, she’s the stubborn type.

she smirks, seemingly not the least bit fazed by you. “pogues share.”

“how about i share this fist with your face? that sound good to you?”

she whips around, her fake-confident expression faltering “uh, excuse me?”

“you heard me,” you only stop a foot from her. your hands are on your hips, ready to pounce if she even thinks about mouthing off one more time. “can’t you take a fucking hint, or are you just dumb?”

“i didn’t know he had a girlfriend,” she rolls her eyes.

“everyone here knows he’s with me, you just thought you’d try it anyway, didn’t you?”

“it’s not that deep,” she shrugs, her voice going fake casual. “it’s just rafe. pogues share—what’s the big deal? you’re overreacting.”

rafe winces, stepping back as if to give you space to handle it. good, he knew better than to get in your way.

“you wanna find out how much more i can react? i’m feeling real generous tonight.”

her mouth opens to say something even dumber, but you’re already pouncing , not even thinking—your body just reacts.

“whoa, whoa, whoa!” rafe’s arms are suddenly around you, yanking you before you can do any real damage “okay, we’re going home.”

“i’ll punch you too,” you hiss, squirming in his grip. “let me hit her.”

he only holds you tighter against his chest when you try to kick out at her. “baby, come on.”

“this bitch said pogues share!’” you cram your neck to glare at her over rafe’s shoulder. “i just wanna share some sense with her.”

she’s already backing away, her hands up in surrender, “okay, whatever, no dick is worth dealing with a crazy bitch. ’m leaving!” she snaps, turning on her heel.

rafe’s grip lightens up slightly, thinking this is enough to calm you down, but unfortunately for him, you take it as a chance to get what you want. as soon as he lets you lose, you take one giant step forward and grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her back just as she tries to escape.

"get your ass back here," you growl, tugging her head back.

“jesus christ,” rafe’s eyes widen and he’s there, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind once again, pulling you back. “baby, let her go!”

she lets out a surprised squeal, trying to pull away, but you’ve got a grip on her so tight she can’t. “what the hell is wrong with you?!” she screeches, hands desperately trying to pry your fingers from her hair.

“okay, you’ve made your point,” he chuckles despite the situation, “let go of her hair.”

you release her, but not without one last, satisfying shove to her back. she stumbles, glaring at you over her shoulder with her hand pressed to her scalp.

“keep your hands to yourself next time,” you warn with a sneer.

she glares at you, and opens her mouth like she’s about to start some more shit—but then she seems to think better of it. with a huff, she turns on her heel and stalks off, her footsteps retreating into the crowd.

rafe stands there, rubbing his neck nervously as he watches her go. “you’re gonna get arrested one day, y’know that, right?”

you look up at him, eyebrow raised, a smirk curling at the corner of your lips. “and you’re gonna get your balls ripped off and be single for the rest of your life. how’s that sound?”

his mouth falls open as he stares at you.

“what? i’m innocent! i didn’t do shit. you just went wwe smackdown on her. i was standing there, minding my business.”

“minding your business while she was all over you?” you challenge, “she was practically trying to crawl inside your skin.”

“told her i wasn’t interested!” he defends, throwing his hands up. “even used the line— i have a girlfriend! that’s...the ultimate force field!”

you snort, crossing your arms. “she walked right through it like it wasn’t even there.”

rafe sighs dramatically, stepping closer, his voice dropping, that little smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, “gotta admit, that was kinda hot.”

you narrow your eyes at him, trying not to let his charm sway you. “hot?”

“yeah,” he grins, “watching you go full psycho really does something for me.”

you can feel your lips twitching upward despite yourself. “you’re such a fuckin’ loser.”

“am i wrong, though?” he teases, slipping his arms around you, his lips tickling your ear as he adds, “never felt more horny—or scared—in my life.”

you huff a laugh, shoving at his chest playfully, “stop trying to make me laugh, i’m mad at you.”

“you’re mad at me?” he leans in impossibly closer, pulling you flush against him.

“rafe—” you start, but he’s already tilting his head, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck.

“mm, y’know,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, “i like you mad. all fired up, it’s sexy.”

“don’t even,” you warn, hoping you sound firm, but it’s hard to when he’s trailing slow kisses down your neck, the press of his mouth sending shivers straight to your toes.

he doesn’t stop, of course. his kisses get sloppier, his lips parting so his tongue can flick against the sensitive spot just below your ear. 

“can’t help it,” he groans in between his work, nipping at your skin. “my girl’s too fucking hot.”

your hands come up to push at his chest, but they end up curling into his shirt instead. “i’m so fucking serious. you can’t sweet-talk your way out of this.”

“m’not sweet-talking,” he slurs, teeth grazing your skin, followed by the soothing heat of his tongue, and you gasp despite yourself. “just... appreciating you. can’t a guy admire his girlfriend after she defended his honor?” he bites down and then sucks at the spot until you’re squirming in his arms. “got me so gone for you, shit, it’s embarrassing.”

“good,” you mutter stubbornly, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair.

he practically purrs at the contact, his lips dragging down to your collarbone. “you’ve ruined me, y’know that? can’t even look at another girl.”

you laugh, your grip tightening in his hair. “keep talking, cameron. see how far that gets you.”

he grins against your skin, his teeth scraping lightly before he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. his hands slide down to your thighs, lifting you up like you weigh nothing and setting you on the edge of the picnic table.

“guess i’ll just have to show you instead.”

"rafe cameron," you start, intending to scold him, but your words stop in your throat as he steps between your legs.

“now you’re quiet,” he’s leaning in so close his nose brushes against yours. “where’d all that fire go, mm?”

your glare is half-hearted at best. “don’t push your luck, you’re still on probation, asshole.”

he hums thoughtfully, his hands sliding up your legs, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. “not luck, baby. skill.”

“you’re so fucking insufferable,” you mutter, but your hands betray you, slipping under the hem of his shirt to splay across his warm skin.

his abs tense under your touch, and you relish the reaction, how his breath hitches as you dig your nails in just a little.

“irresistible,” he counters, his voice rough. his lips hover over yours, daring you to close the gap, but he doesn’t make the first move.

he waits, his eyes locked on yours, the faintest flicker of a challenge in his pretty blue eyes. two can play that game, matter of fact, you know you’ll win.

you pull back, smirking as you trace your fingers over the waistband of his jeans, “that’s pushing it, don’t you think?”

he exhales a chuckle through his nose, his hands moving to your waist, tugging you closer. “you’re so fucking stubborn.”

“me?” you scoff, your fingers dipping beneath the fabric of his jeans, making his tighten, his smirk faltering enough to make you feel victorious.

“yeah,” he repeats, though his voice is strained now. “practically begging me to fuck you here.”

“please.” you tilt your head, your lips grazing his jaw, “you’re the one begging.”

rafe’s laugh is low and throaty, a sound that sends a thrill to your core. his control visibly slips as you trail your lips down the line of his jaw, peppering kisses that grow increasingly slower, more deliberate.

his sharp exhale and the way his grip on your hips drops for half a second tell you everything you need to know.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he mutters, his forehead dropping against your shoulder for a moment.

you grin, pleased with yourself, sliding your hands up his chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palms.

“don’t sound to surprised.”

he shakes his head slightly, trying to clear it, but he can’t seem to stop staring at you. “god, i hate you sometimes,” he breathes out, his lips quirking up into a smirk that betrays his words.

“funny,” you retort, fingers sliding back into his hair to tug lightly. “don’t believe you.”

his jaw tightens at the sensation, a groan slipping past his lips before he catches it.

 “you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says again, but his mouth is already back on you, a bruising kiss that steals every smart-ass remark you had locked and loaded.

your mouths move together with instinct, and when his tongue flicks against your lower lip, you don’t hesitate, opening up for him. he groans low in his throat as his tongue sweeps into your mouth, curling against yours, slick and overwhelming in the best way.

it’s messy and unrestrained, the kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy and drenched. 

rafe’s lips leave yours only for a second, his teeth tugging lightly at your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. he pulls back just enough to let it drag between his teeth, his eyes locked on yours, all dark with something feral.

you don’t let him stay in control for long, your hands tighten in his hair, tugging him back to you, and this time it’s your tongue that takes over, sliding against his in a way that has him moaning like a bitch in heat into your mouth. he sucks on it lightly, the sensation only making your panties stick harder to you, and you press closer to him, your legs tightening around his waist, looking for some kind of friction.

when he pulls back, both of you gasping for air, his lips are swollen and glistening, his eyes glazed over with that unmistakable lust.

a string of spit still connects your mouths, and you watch, entranced, as he swipes his tongue across his lips, catching it before smirking at you.

“you kiss me like that again,” he murmurs, “’m not responsible for what happens next.”

[bunnys-kisses]

lovingly dominant

capt. john price

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), size difference/kink, dom/sub dynamic, bdsm au, virgin!reader, light bdsm, praise (kink)

a/n: in a surprising twist, bunny has written call of duty again!! expect more cod stuff into december when the f1 season is over and it stops eating my brain <3

john price considered himself a little old fashioned. he thought it was better to have his birdie of the week on her back and rut into her until they both finished. he had no need for whips, chains, collars, and whatever else the world of bdsm had to offer.

but after so many missions and so many years, the pollution of combat bled into his sexual desires. he craved for control, near domination of his birdie. yes, they looked cute on their backs and their soft noises. but it looked far more appealing to keep her blindfolded, second guessing what was being done to her while price's filthy words spilled across her brain like wine on a white carpet. tainting her. tainting you.

most dominants loved a trained submissive. loved that they knew the ins and outs of the dynamic, tinkering to their liking. price on the other hand had a thing for over eager virgins. ones who got all their bdsm know-how from horribly written fan fiction. he liked to teach and guide, he liked to shape his submissive into the perfect image of what could be.

and when he met you, oh, well something else came up. an unwavering possessive need. price tried to not get possessive, this was all just a little game for sexual pleasure. but when he found out his little trainee worked at a flower shop, it was all over for him. it was only doubled down when you had your first meeting at a coffee shop and you got the most delicious looking slice of strawberry shortcake.

the cream on the corner of your mouth almost made john price lose resolve. instead he covered up with a cough before you asked, "do you want some, mister price." and who was john price to deny such a lovely girl her offer. you even fed it to him, a glimmer in your eye and gentle smile.

"it's lovely, baby girl." he said before he wiped a bit of the cream off his beard which made you giggle. that giggle seared into his brain and he knew that you weren't getting with any other man.

you met at his flat a few weeks later, and you were eager. price liked that. sex was only half as fun when the person he was fucking was almost having a good time. you came over in a big sweatshirt and jeans that were a little baggy, something that covered up. it made price curious as to what was hiding underneath.

"look beautiful, birdie." he said as he guided you inside and you got your sneakers off. you looked over at him to help you through the flat. you held onto him a little nervous, the only familiar thing in the place. price held you by the middle and let you press your face up against his strong chest.

he was in a flannel with a white undershirt and jeans. you could see the gold chain around his throat and the heavy chest hair. you had seen him naked from photos shared and he had seen you naked, but to feel it up close left a shiver of excitement through you. he leaned down and kissed you on the top of your head as he led you to the bedroom.

he said, "afterwards, i'll make ya some dinner. not the best chef, but, i can cook ya somethin' to replenish the energy you spent fucking me." he then ruffled your hair, which made your heart leap and he got you onto the bed.

you nodded meekly, you looked so small. so innocent. a girl like you should be on dated with finance guys or even the artsy kind. not a weathered, older military man like him. but even things in smaller packages can be surprising, just like when you took off your clothes and revealed a matching set of bra and panties. a soft grey colour with pastel yellow accents. it made price have to adjust himself in his jeans.

"ah, pretty girl got a surprise for me. how sweet?"

you nodded, "i wanted to make tonight special. good luck for a long... dynamic between us. so, you don't get rid of me if i suck." and soon you were in price's embrace while you still sat on the bed. your cheek pressed hard against his soft but firm middle.

he petted your head a little and said, "ah, don't worry, petal. even if you do bad tonight, i got every intention of trainin' ya. make you the perfect girl." the words spoken hit right to your core and when he pulled away long enough to strip down, you felt your eyes go wide for a moment.

a photo couldn't capture every inch of john price's skin. the scars, the tattoos, the hair, the muscle, the fat. he was like a big brown bear and it made you soaked. you shifted a little in your spot on the bed and rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. it was surprising that you were still a virgin, but you always chickened out. now as an adult, you wanted to just get it over with. but, you wanted to have fun. and why not have fun with a well experienced dom who wouldn't half-ass your first time. it didn't hurt that he had the kind of looks that would make any man with half a brain jealous.

"i hope i meet expectations." he chuckled as he put his hands on his hips. his cock stood at full attention and you swallowed. there was something so masculine about him, but not in a toxic way. he played with your hair once more before he patted your cheek, "no need to gawk, petal. i'm not goin' anywhere." and you swallowed. he chuckled before he got into bed with you and slowly unwrapped you of your lingerie like delicate christmas paper.

he hadn't been this excited to upwrap something since he got the toy firetruck as a kid. but in total fairness, you were hotter than any fire red truck. his hands grazed across your body with total tenderness and his hungry blue eyes gazed the skin.

the stretch marks, the moles, your own scarring. you were beautiful in ways that price couldn't describe. to compare you to something would be unfair to the thing being compared to your beauty. he took you by the wrist and kissed the center of it.

"this is a promise, petal. for as long as you keep me as your dominant and you my submissive, i with cherish you, adore you, and most of all. make sure that you cum over and over again." before he kissed you on the lips and got you onto your back. he admired you, "usually i like to take pretty things on their hands and knees. but, tonight's gotta be special, right, doll?"

you nodded.

he tapped your nose and said, "ah, ah, ah. that won't cut it. the words are 'yes, sir', got it? would hate to bruise that little behind during our first time."

you found your voice and said, "yes, sir." and was met with a rough pat on the cheek before price pulled away to rest on his knees to fuck you with just right. you felt heat course through your body as you took in the sight of him. burly, large from top to bottom.

course dark hair on his body, a little heft in his middle (but who didn't love that), a sparkle in his blue eyes, and hands large enough to break things between the digits. he admired you in return and said softly, "pretty little petal, yeah? ah, who let ya be so beautiful?" he chuckled as he rubbed his cock up against your slick sex, "i got so much to teach ya. how to tie ya up, how to gag ya properly. mmm, we'll have so much fun." he then pulled away to grab a condom from the nightstand. he held up the silver foil to you and said, "rule one, play safe or don't play at all."

you nodded and remembered to reply, "yes, sir."

price gave you a smile that lit you up and said, "good girl." then quickly got the condom on. he admired your soaked sex for a moment longer, "she achin' for me, huh? cute." then slowly, almost agonizingly, he inched into you and felt the spread of warmth through his body.

heaven was created with your pussy in mind. price was never a quick finisher, but he almost finished inside of you when he managed to get all of himself inside of you. he kept eyes and ears open, the type of examining done in his line of work, to make sure that you weren't in too much pain.

"ya alright?"

you nodded and swallowed.

price added, "baby girl. words." and then nodded his head when you replied that everything was okay, he nodded and said, "roger that." which made you pussy clench. a smile spread across price's face as he leaned forward. he captured your hands in his and pressed them to the bed under you. he chuckled lowly, "ah, someone likes a military man? a man in uniform gets ya goin'?" he kissed your pulse point, "ah, too cute, petal. i guess seeing that on my description didn't scare ya off." he rocked against you, "know it's a crime to mess up a man's uniform."

you swallowed, "sir. fuck." and felt the strike of heat through your body. you had to admit, you had seen a few photos of him in uniform. the beret, boots and all. and it made something turn in your stomach. only added an appeal to him that made you hot.

price replied, "i guess it worked out. because i like cute little civilians who are more than eager to make me feel good. doin' your civic duty makin' me cum, baby girl." these was a tension in his voice that made you heart hammer and your throat feel tight. the bed squeaked a little under the both of you as he continued his movements. he knew he was going to have an amazing time with you.

you whined, "please, sir."

"tell me. tell me what ya like about it? what gets my baby girl goin'? i gotta know, because maybe i can get somethin' together that'll rock your world." his words were hot and your cunt fluttered around his achy, hard cock. for a moment he was uncertain if you were actually a virgin, you took him so well.

you moaned when you felt a spark of pleasure in your core, your entire life had just been your hands and an assortment of toys. but to have price work your body beautifully was something else. you replied sweetly, "i... i want to thigh ride you in uniform." you felt a flush of embarrassment.

he chuckled, "oh that would be quite the sight, huh?" he continued to move against you beautifully, "i bet that i could make ya cum just from my thighs. rub your cunt all over it, messin' up the fabric. higher-ups will be wonderin' about the pussy stains all over the fabric. maybe if i'm lucky i'll get some of your wetness in my beard. let 'em smell you on me." and well, that excited you deeply.

you arched your back a little bit, but price kept you pinned perfectly under him. you tightened your thighs around him and he continued to work your body. it wasn't rough sex, but it also wasn't boringly soft either. he worked you at a steady pace, like a man with immense stamina. he eyed the bounce of your breasts and he moved against you.

he licked his lips at the sight of you, "baby girl." he purred, "you're a dirty girl. but don't worry." he soon held onto your wrists instead of your hands, a further act of domination, "i like 'em dirty. i like girls i can sink my teeth into. soon enough you won't be able to cum unless it's my fingers, tongue or cock in you. ya got the kind of soft skin that would bruise perfectly. but be careful, petal, i can be quite mean with a paddle." and it was met with a heavy moan. music to his ears.

you had never been spoken to like this before, but it excited you. you wanted to be price's dirty girl any day of the week. you felt excitement cross over you as he picked up the pace. the two of you fucked heavily and it left a taste of want in your mouth. this was better than anything you hoped for. it wasn't just that price checked boxes on a superficial level, he knew exactly how to make you squirm and moan. heavy noises came from your mouth as he worked your achy cunt, you felt amazing.

"ya like knowin' that i'm your first. big, scary captain makin' a mess of the sweetest cunt in the world. knowin' in a way, i got ya for life." he licked his lips. he liked that you were pure in that way, call him old fashioned. but knowing that he got to have you first was sort of like getting the first slice of cake at a party. something he wished to sweetly devour. and with you it was with heavy thrusts and filthy words. taint you to his liking.

you whined as you clenched your fists, you tensed up and he loved the feeling. he could almost read your mind with how sweet you felt. he could nearly feel your heartbeat as he fucked you. he loved the sight of you, you looked damn near perfect under him. you said between heavy pants, "please, sir. fuck, please!"

"feel good, petal? like how i take you." he moved against you further and it left him feeling the anticipation for climax. he continued to fuck your sweet body, working every last centimeter of warm skin, "remember, ya gotta ask me to cum."

his movements were overwhelming, his pace left you feeling breathless. and in your first lesson of intimacy, you croaked out, "can i cum, sir? please, i need to cum."

and price could be a giving man. he looked down at you, haze in those blue eyes as he said, "of course, baby girl. cum for me, cum for your captain." and swore under his breath as you beautifully came apart for him. he held onto your wrists tighter and groaned. it paired nicely with your sweet little moans.

"sir! fuck!" you gasped as you clenched around him. you finished and it only prompted him to move faster while you laid in such a blissed out state. no one had made you finish like that, not even your own nimble digits.

but price was just that good.

the bed creaked further and the headboard hit against the beige wall of the bedroom. he fucked you faster and made sure to cram every inch inside of you. with a few more heavy strokes, he finished into of you with a heavy groan. he fucked you through his climax before he slowed to a stop.

he wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled deeply, "beauty, beauty. where has the world been hidin' ya from me." he chuckled as he kissed you on the lips. you melted against him and moaned.

when he pulled out, he got up with a creak in his hip to throw out the condom before he was back in bed with you. you were both naked under the covers as price traced your form with his calloused fingers. the roughness on your soft skin made you shiver.

"how about it, lovie." he said in that low, gruff tone of his. his hand grazed across your side and behind, "how about i invite the boys over and their little birdies and we can have a little playdate. introduce you to the group."

you swallowed, "play... date?"

price pulled you closer. he held onto you the way someone would hold a stuffed animal. he smiled at you, "don't worry, petal. no one's gettin' their hands on ya. not while i'm still breathin'." his voice was tinged with a possessiveness. you nodded in response and he added, "besides, i know i'll make the boys nice and jealous with you." he chuckled, "my beautiful baby girl." then kissed you on the lips.

you could only imagine what would happen at a playdate with price's friends and their submissives. it also didn't help that it made you a little excited as well. <3

[et6rnalsun]

accidentally walking in on bff!matt while he’s changing..

oh, you were so pissed off. so incredibly pissed off.

you couldn't believe how chris had the fucking audacity to throw away your lashes, despite you repeatedly telling him to be careful, and to keep them on their table until you came back to get them. your favorite pair, too.

it wasn't uncommon for you to stay at their house to sleep, and that you left pieces of your things around like an incomplete puzzle, which will probably remain so. but never, never in the fuckin history of your friendship, one of the three had lost or just thrown away something of yours. and when it happened to your beloved eyelashes, you knew for sure that you would have loved to commit a murder.

the wheels in your head were spinning non-stop in the evil creation of a plan against chris, all while you were walking briskly towards matt's room.

“i think it’s time for you to beat chris’s ass every fuckin’ day” you said with a huff escaping your glossy lips, opening his door — swinging it fully — without even glancing inside before doing so. only when you looked up you realized the fact that the boy was half naked in front of you. damn.

you stopped working for a few seconds too long, looking stupid in matt's eyes who was simply trying to change. your mouth wide open, a light shade of red dusting your cheeks as if a wave of freezing cold had passed through your soft skin like a caress, but in reality it was just the embarrassment of having caught your best friend in such a state.

his dark hair looked even thicker when wet, dripping from a shower you could tell he'd just taken. he was holding a t-shirt in his hands that he hadn't had time to put on, in fact, his chest was completely exposed to your eyes that betrayed your desire to just disappear from earth — traveling all over his body as if you were waiting for nothing else. his tattooed arm seemed even more beautiful in that context, and you found yourself sighing as you searched for something to say.

the gray sweatpants that were pulled down low enough to show the elastic of his calvin klein underwear, a v-line that you would love to touch with your tongue— "i'm sorry" you cleared your throat, fighting the urge to slap yourself.

his reaction surprised you, as he simply chuckled and finally put that shirt on. "what were you saying ‘bout chris?" matt quickly changed the subject, tilting his head as he looked at you intently. you shrugged in response, the urge to kill his brother suddenly gone. christ, you were too embarrassed to even breathe at that moment.

matt seemed to notice, and leaned in slightly as a smirk tugged at the corners of his pink lips. "don't tell me you're suddenly shy" he taunted, tortured you just for the fun of it. "you've only seen me shirtless, you haven't ended up in my sheets just yet" he added, making your eyes widen as your hand automatically moved to slap his chest. covered.

"shut up. you better shut up or chris won't be the only one to die today"

"i just have to undress and you'll change your mind—” another slap. in the face.

[tradgedyinwaves]

his heaven on earth

I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately. Here's a random bit that implanted in my brain this morning.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

tw: fatshaming behavior

something about Price's frumpy, round assistant, but the one who's really interested is Ghost.

Sure they all think you're gorgeous, but Ghost...Ghost has never seen someone so soft. From the roundness of your cheeks to the thick of your calves, he just wants to sink his fingers into the squishy parts of your body. And not even in a sexual way. (Well, not only in a sexual way.)

Everything about you screams peace and sanctuary and what he wouldn't give to press his face to the roundness of your tummy just to know what Heaven is like.

But despite his desires, the most you've ever received from him was a grunt when he turned in some reports for you to give to his captain. You had nodded up at him with wide eyes and the smallest smile, chirping out a 'thank you'.

When a military ball comes around and Price insists that you go, you immediately decline with the excuse that you don't have anything to wear. He tells you not to worry about it and that he'll take care of it. After fighting with him on it for twenty minutes, you conceded. Throwing up your arms as you headed back to your desk.

Did Price actually pay for the exquisite gown that now hung on the back of your door? Absolutely not. Ghost would rather set himself on fire before he let anyone else doing anything for you. Some people said he had a tendency to be possessive. He called it protective.

The military ball finally arrives and it requires a couple glasses of wine before you slide the gown on. It fits perfectly, tailored to your body shape and size and the color compliments your skin so nicely. The only information you'd provided to Price were your measurements (given only after you made him swear on his cigars that he wouldn't comment on the numbers - not that he would ever dare) and that you looked better in certain types of colors.

Your friend from base comes by to do your hair and makeup, keeping it light and fresh as you know you have a tendency to sweat in these situations.

And when you finally walk through the doors of the ballroom, Ghost is pretty sure his heart has never beat so hard. Not when he's laying in his sniper's nest about to pull the trigger on the head of a sex ring trafficker. Not when his team finally took out the leader of a terrorist group. Not even when he had a hook through his ribs.

You immediately fade into the background, grabbing a glass of champagne and standing against the wall. Price approaches you with that smile of his, the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes as he looks over you appreciatively.

"You look lovely, my dear. The dress fits you perfectly." You thank him as the apples of your cheeks turn pink before he tells you not to thank him - thank Ghost. That only darkens your blush as you duck your head when the captain leaves.

You don't go searching for Ghost to thank him and ask why he'd gotten you the dress because you're stopped by a gentleman you don't recognize. But you do recognize the smirk on his face and the sound of laughter coming from a group of his buddies.

As adults, one would think people would be mature enough not to poke fun at the big girl. But that didn't seem to be the case as the man struggled to ask you to dance through his laughter, eventually giving up and going back to his friends when he couldn't manage the sentence.

You wanted to leave after that, but that meant letting them win and you refused to give them that satisfaction.

So when Ghost finally found the courage to come and approach you, you thought it was another joke.

"Would you like to-" "Please, don't. Just...go away."

Ghost was not used to being interrupted and it showed in the way his black Balaklava twitched around his mouth.

"What's wrong, luv?" "Just...don't, Ghost. I'm not in the mood." "I just wanted to dance with you." "No, you didn't. You're just here to make fun of me like everyone else."

Ghost was stunned before it turned to anger. Who had hurt you like this?

"M'not. Just wanted to dance with you, promise."

You glanced up at him, meeting those dark orbs - the only part of Ghost you'd ever seen. They didn't crinkle at the corners like he was laughing at you and the way the fabric of his mask didn't move meant he wasn't holding back his laughter.

"You want to dance with me?" It was unbelievable to you that anyone would want to be seen with you, even if the dress you had on was gorgeous.

"O'course, yer stunning. Why wouldn't I?" Ghost had never been one to compliment women. His team got compliments all the time from him. "Well done, Gaz." "Good job, Johnny." "Nice shot, Cap." Those were easy.

With you, he was terrified he'd say the wrong thing and upset you. And that...he couldn't stand that. Watching those beautiful eyes of yours fill with tears because of him and his stupid mouth. It should be easy. Beautiful, gorgeous, ethereal, stunning. All words he felt described you and yet they didn't hold enough weight.

In the end, you agreed to dance with him. Just one, of course. But that went out the window as another bad joke of his pulled a giggle from you. He found he quite liked the tinkling sound of your laugh and the way your nose scrunched when he complimented you again.

And that night, he found out what it was like to watch his thick fingers dimple the roundness of your ass, to worship between your plush thighs as he deemed you a goddess. His grip left pretty bruises all over your body while his lips left his mark across your collarbone.

In the light of the morning, he leaned over your sleeping form as the suns rays gently shone on your face. There in that moment, you embodied peace and beauty, radiant even as drool slid from the corner of your parted lips.

His Heaven on Earth.

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Not Future... Now

MDNI 18+ | Imagine Joe seeing you holding someone’s baby and losing all sense of mind at the thought that maybe, just maybe, that baby could be his one day.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: releasing some old drafts, enjoy babe. also not proofread :)

Main Masterlist

⑅୨୧⑅୨୧⑅ .⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅. ୨୧⑅୨୧⑅୨୧

Joe’s been having a certain recurring thought lately. It shows up in his dreams or when he’s in the gym or on the field. He’s tried to brush it off; it’s too vulgar to say out loud, but it won’t go away. He felt ashamed for it always being on his mind, especially at work- if any of the guys knew what he was thinking about at practice, he would probably quit and never show his face again. But at the same time, it feels so natural for him to think about it. Especially right now.

Nothing else was on his mind while you were cuddled up against him, watching some random action movie on Netflix. He stopped focusing on the screen the second you pushed your ass onto his crotch to ‘get comfy,’ if anything, you knew exactly what was on his mind and were torturing him for fun. 

But you were as oblivious as you could be, eyes glued to the TV screen. 

Oblivious to how easy it would be for him to just push your silk shorts off the swell of your fat cheek, move the elastic barrier of your cute panties to the side and slide his cock through your plump folds. 

Oh, what he’d do to hear that first shocked gasp turn into a sweet, inevitable moan as you take him in deeper. You would try to question the abrupt action only to sink further into his chest and succumb to the pleasure he’s giving you until ropes of his cum fill your womb.

Instead, he settles the thoughts in his mind and tries to refocus his mind on the car chase in front of him instead of the sweet scent of your vanilla perfume. The sultry scent he can’t live without, something so you that bakeries and cafes remind him of the woman he gets to come home to every day. But there’s something so satisfying about that scent on your soft brown skin that has him clutching every part of your body he can get his hands on. Your thick thighs that look beautiful around him, that delectable neck his head fits perfectly in, and his current favorite: the soft layer of fat on your lower belly. Ever since he started having those dreams, he hasn’t taken his hands off your small pooch. Unconsciously, he’ll caress your tummy for as long as you let him. 

He could tell you didn’t like it at first. He understood you were feeling self-conscious about it, so he reassured you that he adored every part of your body the same during a long, hot love-making session. Now, you don’t give him a second look when his hands start roaming from your waist down. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

After spending all day caring for other people’s kids as a nanny, you eagerly joined your boyfriend of 2 years on the couch for a mandatory cuddle session. You put on the movie Baby Driver and relaxed into Joey’s chest as his arms pulled you closer. 

About halfway through the movie, his hands started moving down into the waistband of your shorts and settled on your tummy. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing he was as relaxed as you were. Recently, this has been his favorite resting position, with you against his chest and him caressing your belly. It took you a while to fully embrace your figure, but if it weren’t for Joey, you wouldn’t realize just how much there was to love about it. He loved every dimple and roll and made sure you did, too.

However, there was something different about the way his hands touched you. Most of the time, he liked to lightly squeeze and massage the fat, which was very nice when it was that time of the month. But right now, he was just slowly rubbing on it. No light tugs and squishes, no drawing random shapes or doodles on the skin, just rubbing his hand over it. 

“Joey…” You whisper, trying to look back at him but failing thanks to his face lying cozy in your neck.

“Mhm?” He mumbles softly. 

“What are you doing?” 

You feel a grin grow on his lips. “What are you doing?” 

Rolling your eyes, you place a hand on his, seizing the motions on your stomach. “I asked you first.”

He hums and pecks up your neck to your ear. “I’m thinking.” His voice makes you shiver then he begins to kiss and suck on the sweet spot behind your lobe.

“Wha-what are you thinking about?” 

A light chuckle vibrates through his lips as he resumes the light touches on your stomach. “You.” 

“What about me? I’m right here.” You giggle as he shoves his face back in the crook of your neck.

“You really wanna know?” His voice’s so muffled you can barely understand him.

You shuffle your body so you’re underneath him and can finally see his sweet blue eyes. “Yes, I wanna know.”

He smirked and used one hand to stabilize himself above you, then leaned down to your lips. “You asked for it.” He whispers with a peck on your lips. Then he shifts down and plants open-mouth kisses on your collarbone. 

“I’ve been thinking about our future-

He lifts on his knees and unbuttons your silk top.

“About what’s next for you and me-

Bring his lips back down and suck minor bruises from your sternum to your belly button, all while keeping his eyes on your face. “Mmmm, Joey.”

“And I’m reminded of it every day when you send me pictures of you at work.” He growls, coming up to press a deep kiss on your lips. He barely gives you time to react before pulling away to suck on your sweet spot again. “I wanna get you pregnant.”

“What?” You moan, half in surprise and half in pleasure. 

“Can’t stop thinking about you full of me, walking around showing everyone who you belong to. Can’t you see it, baby?” He pulls your leg around his waist and lays his full weight down on you. 

“Joe.” Your eyes widen as your groins rub against each other, his bulge now very apparent. “Holy fuck- have you been...

“Hard this entire time? No.” He pauses to suck more bruises onto your chest. “Just can’t help it, baby. I have this stunning woman with a beautiful body just waiting for me to knock her up.” 

“Oh.” You moan as he pulls the cups of your bra down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth. “Joey, you can’t just say that.”

His flat tongue licking up your sensitive peaks makes your hips jolt up, and hands pull at his hair.  

“Fuck baby, you can’t do that.” He groans, grinding his hips against yours. He switches over to your other nipple with his tongue and tugs and twists with his hand to give both stimulation. Your breaths quicken as your moans get louder, your panties being soaked with your arousal. He gives your sensitive nipple one last harsh suck, then kisses back up to your lips. 

“You don’t know what you do to me, baby. Y’know how much you mean to me? Y’know how much I can depend on you?” He mumbles between kisses. Your hips and lips continue to mingle until you abruptly push him up, making his arms hold his weight hovering over you. 

“What did you say?”

Making him horny and sappy is one thing, but the last one has nothing to do with you. 

“Joe, what do you mean you can depend on me?” Sure, it's a far-fetched theory, but suddenly, he connects his desire to have a child with how his team is currently doing. But it’s a theory nonetheless.

“Baby, what are you doing?” He sighs, dropping his head to kiss yours. Dismissal and Ignorance.

“Are you trying to get me pregnant so you have someone always to support you and never disappoint you, unlike your team?” You question, dodging the way he dips down to your neck.

He groans. “Y/n, are fucking serious right now?” There’s practically no space between your wide eyes and his scrunched face.

“I’m not having a baby with you just because your defense sucks.” 

His face morphs into a smirk while he licks his lips. Then he leans into your ear. “No, you’re gonna have my baby because you like to walk around here in tiny ass shorts while talking about other peoples’ kids. I want you to have my baby because I can’t go one minute without thinking about how goddamn gorgeous you’d look knocked up, waddling around my house.” He pronounces each word as husky and breathily as the last, sending shivers down your spine. 

“I’m going to get you pregnant because you’re mine, and nothing makes me hornier than the thought of my girl having my kid. Anything else you wanna say, princess?”  He says, sliding your shorts off and throwing your fallen leg over his waist. 

“N-no!” You choke out as his finger traces your sopping folds.

“No, what?” He teases your entrance while his lustful, blown-out pupils watch your silent whimpers.

“No daddy, I need you.” Joe wastes no time removing his sweats and hooking your legs around him.

“Yea? Good, I need to feel you around my cock right now.” He groans, sucking in a breath as his dick glides against your sopping folds.

"Joey?" You take his face in your hands, pulling him down.

"Yeah, gorgeous." He pecks your forehead, gazing into your pretty lustfilled eyes.

Leaning up to peck his swollen lips, you whispered softly. "Please breed me."

His eyes widened, "Jesus Christ, woman," then he sunk into you.

[monstersflashlight]

can you do a pt 2 of the hole in the wall with a tentacle monster? i’d think i’d pass out if that was me

A/N: Hi there! First of: thank you for your compliments :) Tried to mix all these requests together because all of them had tentacles in common, don’t know if I did a good job, but I hope this satisfies y’all, it was fun to write. Enjoy!

Good monster

Tentacle-monster x fem!reader || dom/sub (femdom), overstimulation, tentacles, double penetration (in the same hole), praise kink (light)

When the tentacle monster gave you your voice back to meet the prince, you were more than happy to get out of there fast. You didn’t think twice about why he did it, or why he would look so sad when you ran away from his cave. But you did it anyway.

And regretted it.

The prince was not only awful, but life at the palace was hell. You wanted to go back as soon as you two spoke twice, but you promised you’d be there for a while, you promised you’d make it work if you got your voice back. But the tentacle monster knew better than you did, he knew so much better. So when he showed up at the castle and eradicated every single one of the stupid royals who made your life living hell, you could only be grateful.

He took you back to his cave, and you stared at him for a long while before you were able to form words. “Are you going to take my voice away?” You asked him. You would gladly give it back if it meant not going back to those awful royals.

He sighed, as if your word pained him, his tentacles moving around his body. It was mesmerizing. “No, little human, it’s all yours to enjoy. A gift if you may.” He said and urged you to leave.

You didn’t fight him, but you regretted that, too. You regretted the pain in his eyes and the way he stared at you even when you were far away. You regretted so many things about him, but when you decided to go back and talk to him, he was gone. You didn’t see him again for a loooooong time.

And time passed. And you missed him in a way that made no sense but all the sense at the same time. He was like an old wound that hurt every time the weather changed. And you didn’t know anything else about him to find him, you made peace with that.

Until you were hired for a new human-monster experiment. (And maybe you only wanted to be fucked by a bunch of monsters until you couldn’t walk straight, that sounded like a great evening in your books.)

You were supposed to be fit into a hole, your lower half exposed to the air and ready to be fucked by as many monsters as they came. But that wasn’t what happened.

You were tied to the hole and completely naked when you heard the soft rustle of tentacles against the floor, your whole body trembling in anticipation as you heard someone behind you. Tentacles were one of your biggest fantasies, images of him flashing behind your eyes, anticipation and desperation mixing inside of you. You parted your legs a bit further, trying to look as enticing as possible to the monster behind you.

But they didn’t touch you. And after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a couple minutes, you asked: “Is something wrong?” You looked back, trying to peek through the hole but unable to do so.

“I- I don’t… I don’t know how to do this,” he confessed in a short breath. He sounded nervous and something inside of you stirred.

“What do you mean?” You questioned, your hand already pressing the button that unlocked your restrains.

“I’ve never fucked a human,” he let out, almost embarrassed.

You struggled out of the hole and turned around, you knew it was against the rules but you didn’t care. The monster was clearly having a hard time and you weren’t heartless. But when you were finally out and turned around your heart skipped a beat and you let out a gasp.

“You!” You both said in unison, looking at each other with utter surprise. “How? What? How”

Your stupor was short lived when a mechanical voice sounded over your heads: “Experiment over, move to the individual rooms.” You followed after him, grabbing a robe that was hanging next to the door. Your brain was swimming with a thousand possibilities.

“What happens now?” You asked to the researcher waiting outside the door.

“We detected abnormalities in your compatibility results, you need to be isolated and studied together. Follow me.” They lead you through the corridors until they open a door at the end of a hallway.

Your tentacle monster enters before you. “What are we supposed to do here?” He asked the researcher once you were in a cozy room that looked like an expensive hotel more than a lab.

“You fuck. We watch. Enjoy.” And they left, leaving both of you there, staring at each other with confused expressions.

“So… Do you want to…” He started, looking at you intently.

“YES,” you answered a little too fast and a little too loudly. He looks a bit dejected by your enthusiasm, and then you remember what he said earlier, at the glory hole. “Do you want me to take charge?” You questioned, all serious.

You wanted to be the one being fucked into oblivion and used like a fleshlight, but if your tentacle monster wants to be dominated you can totally do that. There’s more than enough time in the future for you two to play in other positions. In as many positions as your human body allows, actually.

“On the bed. Now.” You walked alongside him, and once he was looking at you pleadingly, you took pity on him and straddled his waist, his tentacles curling around your legs and middle. “Do all your tentacles feel the same?” He nodded. “Words,” you asked.

“Ye- yes,” he stuttered. You were rolling your hips slowly, spreading your juices over the tentacles trapped under you

“Yes, mistress,” you told him, falling back into your dom mode. He looked at you confused. “You have to say yes, mistress,” you explained.

“Yes, mistress,” he repeated.

“Good monster.” He blushed darker as you praised him, making you giggle as you caressed his chiseled chest. “Okay, so I’m going to tell you what we are going to do: I’m going to grind against the suckers of your tentacles and you are going to stay really still until I come once. Then, if you have been good, I’ll let you fuck me. You like that?”

“Yes, mistress.”

You ground against his suckers just as he said, your pussy was already so wet it made obscene sounds against his slippery skin. But looking down at him, seeing how flushed he looked and how his eyes were rolling back into his head, you knew you weren’t the only one having fun. He was enjoying you playing with him, and the slippery texture he was oozing was making everything more intense. You could see his muscles bulging as he tried to remain as still as possible, his hands going up to grab your hips and stopping just in time, pressing them against the bed and squeezing.

You smiled down at him. “You like that, monster? You like the feel of my pussy against your tentacles?” He nodded vehemently, making you chuckle. “You are a dirty, dirty monster, aren’t you? You say you didn’t fuck a human before but here you are, acting like a slutty monster for me.” He whined. “They all think you are so powerful, but right now you don’t look like it. You look almost pathetic with your groans and whines, but, so, so pretty.” And it was true, he looked great all flushed and frustrated, the noises he was making were driving you insane.

The orgasm caught you out off guard, too focused on him to notice it sneaking up on you. You fell apart over him, your head thrown back and your back arching as you convulsed. It was a good orgasm, but your body craved more. You reached under you and grabbed one of his tentacles with enough strength to make him whine again, chuckling at him as you guided it to your dripping pussy.

“Now fuck me like you mean it,” you instructed.

He looked at you confused for a couple seconds before his hands were darting up and grabbing onto your hips. He moved your body and his tentacles around you, touching and caressing all parts of your skin possible, fucking in and out of your wet pussy. It was almost too much, he was everywhere and the suckers were latched to every sensitive part of your body. Your brain was turning fuzzy with pleasure.

This time you felt your orgasm arriving, and you had enough time to order: “Come for me. Now.” And he complied.

He fell apart under you, and you didn’t give him any peace, your own orgasm going and going over him as you rode him to oversensitivity. He was crying out your name and you were desperate for more.

You grabbed another tentacle and pressed it against your already stretched pussy. You pushed it alongside the one already in, the stretch so big you could barely keep yourself from screaming. But you made it, the second tentacle curling around the first, creating the most amazing textured dick you’ve ever fucked. You rolled your hips slowly until his second tentacle was fully inside of you, until he was a whimpery mess of oversensitivity under you.

You leaned down, your chest pressing against his as you fucked yourself on his tentacles. “Be a good monster and give me one more orgasm,” you whisper against his ear.

“I- I don’t know if I can, mistress,” he whimpered, his tentacles twitching inside of you as you bite your lip to hold back a moan.

“Now,” you ordered. And he complied like the good monster he was, screaming your name until his voice sounded rough.

At the end of the day, he gave you your voice back for the wrong reasons, but you took his away for the good ones. And this time neither of you regretted it.

[ghostlyglimmer]

This prompt was too much fun to NOT write something! So here's my go at it :D

Danny Fenton leaned against the register at The Fun Zone, his eyes half-lidded with the bored expression of someone who had already been on shift for far too long. The arcade’s lights flickered with their usual neon brilliance, and the sound of pinball machines, whirring go-karts, and kids screaming in the indoor playground provided a steady background cacophony. It was chaos incarnate, but Danny didn’t mind. The job paid surprisingly well for a Gotham gig, and it let him afford textbooks and a halfway decent apartment.

That, of course, didn’t make up for the downsides—namely, the fact that the place was a gang front. Danny had figured it out about two days in. The suspicious packages delivered after hours, the shady clientele that frequented the private lounge, and the way his manager, “Big Sal,” always seemed to have armed goons lurking nearby. None of it really phased him. As long as he kept his head down, he didn’t see any reason to care.

But apparently, the local vigilantes did.

“Hey, kid,” a gravelly voice startled Danny out of his stupor. He looked up to see the Red Hood himself looming over the counter, his arsenal on full display. Guns, knives, and explosives hung from his tactical gear, his crimson helmet reflecting the pulsing lights of the arcade.

Danny blinked. “Welcome to The Fun Zone. Can I get you a family pack for laser tag, or are you just here to threaten the boss?”

Red Hood’s head tilted slightly, his helmet hiding what Danny assumed was either a glare or the equivalent of a facepalm. “You know this place is run by a gang, right?”

“Yeah,” Danny deadpanned. “And they pay me twenty bucks an hour plus tips. Do you want to buy tokens or not?”

Hood seemed taken aback, the air of intimidation slipping just a little. “Do you even care that they’re criminals?”

“As long as they don’t ask me to do crime, I’m good. Rent’s expensive, man.”

Before Hood could respond, the double doors to the bowling alley burst open, and in stormed Big Sal, flanked by his usual goons. Sal was a mountain of a man, with slicked-back hair and a perpetual sneer that seemed permanently etched into his face. His eyes narrowed as they landed on Hood.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Red Hood,” Sal growled. “You’ve been poking around my turf for weeks. You think you can just walk in here?”

Hood drew a pistol in response. “I don’t think. I act.”

The goons raised their weapons, and Sal barked out orders, but before the situation could escalate further, Danny loudly cleared his throat.

“Hey!” he said, waving a hand lazily. “Can you guys not do this in front of the register? I just mopped over here.”

Both Sal and Hood turned to stare at him.

“What?” Danny shrugged. “If there’s going to be a shootout, at least take it to the parking lot. I’m not cleaning up blood.”

Hood’s shoulders shook with what might have been a laugh, though his voice remained gruff. “You’re way too calm about this.”

“First week on the job, I had to break up a fight between two dads who got into a brawl over mini-golf,” Danny replied flatly. “This? This is Tuesday.”

Hood holstered his pistol, much to Sal’s visible annoyance. “You’re a weird kid, you know that?”

“Thanks,” Danny said. “So, if you take over this place, do I still get to keep my job?”

Sal sputtered indignantly. “You little—”

“You shut up,” Hood snapped, leveling a finger at the gang boss before turning back to Danny. “If I take over, yeah, you can keep your job. Might even give you a raise for putting up with this crap.”

“Cool,” Danny said, as though he hadn’t just witnessed a life-or-death standoff. “Want a soda while you’re here? Employee discount means I can get it for like, fifty cents.”

Hood stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. “I’m starting to think you’re the most dangerous person here.”

Danny smirked. “Nah, I’m just good at customer service.”

As Hood turned back to deal with Sal, Danny leaned against the counter again, sipping a soda he’d poured for himself. 

The standoff between Red Hood and Big Sal continued, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Danny, however, remained entirely unfazed, sipping his soda and watching the drama unfold as if it were a reality TV show. His coworkers, who had been hiding behind various attractions, occasionally peeked out to catch glimpses of the action. None of them seemed inclined to intervene. Not that Danny blamed them—this was well above their pay grade.

Big Sal, realizing that Red Hood wasn’t going to back down, snarled and gestured to his goons. “You think you can just walk in here and take what’s mine? This is my turf, Hood!”

Hood’s voice was calm but laced with menace. “Not anymore, it’s not. You’ve been running weapons and drugs through this place for months. The Fun Zone’s under new management now. So, unless you want to end up in Arkham—or worse—you’ll walk out of here while you still can.”

Sal bared his teeth, but before he could respond, one of his goons hesitated and took a step back. “Uh, boss? Maybe we should listen. It’s… it’s Red Hood.”

Sal shot the man a glare that could curdle milk. “Coward.”

Hood tilted his head toward the exit. “Smart guy. He should take you with him.”

The goon glanced nervously at Sal, then at Hood, and bolted toward the doors. A few others followed, their loyalty clearly not strong enough to stick around for what was about to happen.

Danny watched the exodus with mild amusement. “Wow, Sal. You really inspire loyalty, huh?”

“Shut up, kid!” Sal barked, his face red with anger. “You’re on thin ice.”

Danny raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying. If I were you, I’d consider an employee morale retreat or something.”

Hood let out a low chuckle, his guns still trained on Sal. “You’ve got guts, kid. I’ll give you that.”

Danny replied with a shrug. “So, what’s the plan here, Hood? Are you shutting this place down, or do I need to update my résumé?”

Hood’s answer was interrupted by a sudden crash from the go-kart track. Everyone turned to see a group of kids who had somehow bypassed the barricades and were now gleefully racing around, oblivious to the standoff happening mere feet away.

“Seriously?” Hood muttered, lowering his weapons slightly. “This place is chaos.”

“Welcome to The Fun Zone,” Danny said with a wry smile. “Where the games never stop, even during a hostile takeover.”

Hood let out a heavy sigh, clearly debating whether this was worth his time. Finally, he holstered his weapons and gestured for Sal to leave. “You’ve got 24 hours to pack up and get out. If I see you here after that, you won’t be walking out.”

Sal opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. He stormed out, slamming the doors behind him, leaving Hood, Danny, and a scattering of terrified employees behind.

Hood turned back to Danny. “You still want to work here?”

Danny shrugged. “Depends. You hiring?”

Hood stared at him for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. “You’ve got nerve, kid. Fine. You’re hired—you get a fat raise and fewer shady dealings. Just… try not to question too much about what happens in the backroom.”

“Cool,” Danny said, finishing his soda. “Do I get a new uniform, or do I keep the one with the mustard stains?”

Hood sighed again, rubbing his temples. “I’m already regretting this.”

Danny grinned. “Welcome to management, boss.”

DcxDp

Danny gets a part time job at a small arcade, lazer tag arena, bowling alley, mini golf course, indoor playground, and go kart track called The Fun Zone, the place is a front for a gang and he knows it, he doesn't care though the place pays him really well which is awesome for a broke college student now if only the Gotham vigilantes would leave him alone and stop trying to question him, The Fun Zone by coincidence happens to be on the very edge of Hood's territory so when he comes in one afternoon armed to the teeth and ready to shut the gang down, Danny just stares at him from behind a register and asks "If you take over do I keep my job?"

Jason: …. Sorry, what?

Danny: Can I keep my job?

Jason: …. You’re not working for the mafia?

Danny: I mean like, they pay me livable wages, but probably not. So can I still get paid?

Jason: *looking at his goons in confusion* uh. Sure.

Danny: Sweet. I think they keep the record books in the back, underneath the game sets.

Jason:

Goons:

Danny:

Jason: Uh. Thanks?

Danny: Np, boss :)

[won4kiss]

꒰ 𝓔𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! ۟ ׅ ͡ ୨ৎ

(💌) ──ALL MEMBERS﹙엔하이픈﹚ ꒰ 𝓰. oneshots ៸ fluff ୨୧ㅤㅤ WARNiNGS : not proofread ៸ super fluffy ៸ kisses ៸ petnames❞ 𝑏𝑓! enha x 𝑓! reader ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ꒰ WC : 0.1K per member ꒱ SYPNoSiS 𐙚 enhypen members as olivia rodrigo songs .ᐟㅤ ── LiBRARY

୨୧ 𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 — 𝗢𝗕𝗦𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗗

YOU’RE CURRENTLY SITTING ON THE COUCH, scrolling mindlessly on your phone when heeseung plops down beside you with an over-exaggerated sigh.

“you’ve been ignoring me all day baby,” he says, resting his chin on your shoulder with a pout.

you roll your eyes, but a grin tugs at your lips. “i’ve been busy, hee.”

he scoffs, leaning closer with a mischievous smirk. “busy doing what? thinking about me?” you shove him lightly, giggling. “you’re so full of yourself.”

but of course—he doesn’t back down. instead, he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers as he grins. “can you blame me? i mean, look at you. how could i not be obsessed?”

your cheeks turn a bright pink as he pulls you closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “admit it—you’re a little obsessed with me too.”

and when he finally kisses you, it’s gentle but so sure, like he already knows the answer. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖮𝖥 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖬𝖤𝖬𝖡𝖤𝖱𝖲 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

୨୧ 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 — 𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗬 𝗚𝗨𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥

JAY’S SITTING ON THE EDGE OF YOUR BED, his guitar resting on his lap as he strums a soft melody.

his brows furrow in concentration, but when you suddenly sit beside him, his expression softens.

“i’ve been working on something,” he says, glancing at you. “but it’s not finished yet.” you smile, nudging his shoulder gently. “i still want to hear it.”

he hesitates for a moment before taking a deep breath and starting to play—the song is soft and sweet, and though his voice wavers slightly, the pure emotion in every note makes your chest ache.

when he finishes, he looks up at you with his cheeks pink. “it’s kind of embarrassing,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck.

you shake your head, reaching out to take his hand. “it’s so beautiful jay. you’re amazing.”

his gaze drops to your intertwined fingers, and a small smile paints his lips. “you make me brave, you know that?”

before you can respond, he leans in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s soft and full of quiet affection.

୨୧ ‎ 𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 — 𝗕𝗔𝗗 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧?

YOU’RE LYING IN BED WHEN YOUR PHONE PINGS, jake’s name lights up the screen with a simple text: “come outside.”

your heart races as you glance out the window and see him leaning against his car, his arms crossed and a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

you shouldn’t go—you know this. but five minutes later, you’re sliding into the passenger seat, unable to resist the charm of jake sim.

he grins as he starts the engine. “bad idea, right?”you roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips. “absolutely—a terrible idea.”

the night passes in a blur of listening to old justin bieber throwbacks and laughter, the windows down and the wind blasting through your hair.

when he pulls over in an abandoned and pitch silent parking lot, the air feels lighter as he turns to you, his smile softening. “i missed you,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with affection and warmth.

you barely have time to respond before he leans in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s as reckless as it is perfect.

୨୧ 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 — 𝗦𝗢 𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗡

SUNGHOON TAKES YOUR HAND AS YOU BOTH WALK THROUGH THE CITY FAIR, the golden lights of the ferris wheel lighting up the entire park.

he’s dressed in a simple white t-shirt and jeans, looking almost as if he stepped straight out of a 90s rom-com, and you can’t help but smile at how effortlessly adorable he is.

“you having fun?” he asks, his voice warm as he squeezes your hand.

“so much, hoon,” you reply, grinning. “this is beyond perfect.”

he stops in front of a photo booth, pulling you inside before you can protest—as the camera flashes, he wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaning in to kiss your cheek just as the last photo snaps.

when the pictures print, he holds them up, laughing softly. “we look like the main characters in a movie.”

you laugh too, but your breath catches when he turns to you, with hearts in his eyes if possible. “you know,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “i’d play the part of your love interest in a heartbeat.”

and when he leans in to kiss you, it’s so soft and sweet that it feels like the perfect ending to the perfect day.

୨୧ 𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 — 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝗘𝗠𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚

YOU’RE CURRENTLY RECITING A STORY TO YOUR BOYFRIEND SUNOO, a story about the most mortifying thing that happened to you in your entire lifetime—tripping in front of a crowd—and sunoo is practically crying from laughter.

“it’s not funny sunoo!” you groaned, burying your face in your hands in embarrassment.

he wipes a fallen tear from his eye, grinning. “no, it’s hilarious. you’re exactly like the definition of cute and clumsy.”

you glare at him, but he just leans closer, poking your cheek playfully. “i mean, who else could make falling on their face look so adorable?”

you try to stay annoyed, but the warmth in his voice makes it impossible. “you’re seriously the worst,” you mumble, crossing your arms with a pout.

sunoo just grins, his eyes sparkling as he pulls you into a warm hug. “noo, i’m the best—because i get to love the cutest, clumsiest person in the world.”

and when he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, your embarrassment melts into pure adoration.

୨୧ 𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 — 𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗬

YOU’RE CURRENTLY SPRAWLED OUT ON THE GRASS, a book in your hands as the late afternoon sun lingers on your skin—jungwon lies down beside you, face resting up on one elbow, and his gaze fixed on you instead of the sky.

“you’re staring again, won..” you tease, not looking up from your book. he smiles, unbothered. “i can’t help it.”

you glance at him in curiosity, raising an eyebrow. “why?” he tilts his head, his voice soft. “you’re… perfect. like so perfect, ridiculously perfect. it’s distracting.”

your cheeks turn pink as he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face—his fingers linger for a moment before he pulls back, his smile growing.

“you don’t even realize how pretty you are, do you?”

when you finally meet his gaze, his eyes are full of quiet adoration, making your heart skip a beat.

and when he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, you realize you wouldn’t mind being the subject of his attention forever.

୨୧ 𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 — 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗛𝗜𝗠 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞!

YOU’RE CURRENTLY SEATED IN RIKI’S CAR, laughing so hard your sides hurt as you plot ways to get back at your ex.

riki leans back in the driver’s seat, grinning mischievously as he taps at the steering wheel.

“okay, hear me out,” he says. “we post a selfie together. nothing too obvious—just enough to make him jealous.”

you raise an eyebrow at his suggestion. “you think that’ll work?” riki smirks, pulling out his phone. “of course. who wouldn’t be jealous of me?”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but let out a laugh as he leans closer, clicking a picture of the two of you.

when he shows it to you, his laughter dies as his grin softens. “we look good together, don’t we?”

your heart skips, but before you can respond, he leans in slightly, his voice soft. “honestly, i don’t care about getting him back. i just like spending time with you.”

and when his lips suddenly brush yours, the whole world seems to disappear in the background.

© WON4KISS 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

NOTE. request complete !!! i know these songs don’t exactly fit what’s going on but i tried my best !! T-T sorry it’s super short writing this was a bit challenging bc i don’t listen to much of her music so i only picked the songs i knew !! ☹️

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

[chillypowder]

Powder Blue

Pairing: Jinx (Powder) x Reader

Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends)

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Act 3 Healing Vibes

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of emotional vulnerability, brief discussions of chaos and destruction (Jinx being Jinx). Overall, it’s a soft and tender piece meant to heal your heart.

Summary:

Zaun isn’t known for its quiet moments, but you’ve always found them with her—whether she’s Jinx, Powder, or the storm in between. After everything she’s been through, you’re her anchor, her “sunshine,” even when she insists she’s the thundercloud. Tonight, beneath the smog-filled sky of the Undercity, you remind her that stars, no matter how hidden, never burn out—and neither does she.

Notes:

This is for all the Arcane lovers who were emotionally wrecked after Acts 2 and 3 (raises hand). I wanted to write something soft and dreamlike, like the kind of fluff you fall into after a heavy rainstorm. Jinx deserves peace and someone who reminds her that she’s more than her chaos. Reader is gender-neutral and full of love. Let’s heal together!

The air smells of ash and copper, but it’s soft, almost like the remnants of fireworks in a summer sky. Zaun always had a way of making things feel heavy, like the weight of a smog-filled sky pressing down on you, but tonight? Tonight feels different. Tonight, she’s here.

Jinx.

Or maybe she’s still Powder to you, even now. You’ve never been able to pick a side, not when it came to her. Not when her eyes, burning with chaos and brilliance, find you across the workshop you’ve quietly tucked yourself into for the evening.

“Hey, sunshine.” Her voice rings like a melody, mismatched and full of energy, dragging you from your thoughts before you can start wallowing. The door slams shut behind her, and her boots clink against the uneven floor. She’s bouncing on the heels of her feet, a grin that doesn’t quite reach her eyes spreading wide as she leans against your desk. “What’re ya doing in here all alone? Didn’t you miss me?”

You blink, still caught between the memory of who she used to be and the whirlwind she’s become. It hurts sometimes, like a pinprick in your chest, but tonight you push it aside. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s that Jinx needs your steadiness. Needs the quiet you offer when her head gets too loud.

“Just working on something,” you reply, your voice soft, a balm to her usual sharpness. You motion to the half-finished contraption on the table—a little music box that you thought might make her smile. You don’t tell her it’s for her, though. Not yet.

She tilts her head, her pigtails swaying with the motion, a curious glint sparking in her eyes. “Ooh, what’s that? It looks... fiddly.” Her fingers twitch as if resisting the urge to grab it and take it apart. Jinx has always been like this—a hurricane with hands, tearing things apart to see how they work, only to put them back together in ways no one else would ever dream of.

“It’s... not finished yet,” you say, moving it out of her reach before she can snatch it up.

She pouts, her lips curving downward, and it’s almost enough to undo you. “You’re no fun,” she mutters, but there’s no bite in her words. Instead, she slides onto the desk next to you, her long legs swinging over the edge as she watches you with that unnervingly intense gaze of hers.

You let the silence settle between you for a moment, comfortable despite the unspoken things hanging in the air. The hum of Zaun’s machinery rumbles softly in the background, a lullaby of gears and steam.

“How was your day?” you ask eventually, glancing up at her.

Her grin widens, almost too wide, and she starts talking—fast and animated, her words tumbling over each other as she recounts her latest escapade. Something about a heist, explosions, and narrowly escaping one of Piltover’s enforcers. You know you should probably scold her, tell her to be careful, but the way she lights up when she talks about it makes it impossible.

“And then, boom!” she says, throwing her arms out dramatically. “The whole thing went up in flames! You should’ve seen it—it was beautiful!”

You raise an eyebrow, unable to keep the fond smile from tugging at your lips. “Beautiful, huh?”

“Yeah, like... like a firework,” she says, her voice softening just a little. Her eyes drift to you, and for a moment, something vulnerable flickers in their depths. “You like fireworks, don’t you?”

You nod. “They remind me of you.”

Her head tilts again, and for once, she doesn’t try to hide the way her cheeks flush pink. “Tch. You’re so cheesy.”

“You love it.”

“Maybe,” she says, her grin returning full force. But there’s a softness there now, a quiet understanding that settles in her features like a shadow. She reaches out suddenly, her hand brushing against yours where it rests on the desk. Her fingers are calloused, scarred, but warm. “Thanks,” she says, almost too quiet for you to hear.

“For what?”

“For... I don’t know. For putting up with me, I guess.” She shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but you can feel the weight of her words. She’s always been bad at saying how she feels, always hiding behind laughter and chaos, but you’ve learned to read between the lines.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you say, your voice steady. “You’re not something I have to ‘put up with,’ Jinx.”

Her eyes flicker down to the floor, and for a moment, you think she might argue, might push you away like she’s done so many times before. But instead, she stays quiet, her fingers still brushing against yours.

It’s a small thing, barely noticeable, but it feels like a victory.

The night stretches on, and somehow you end up on the rooftop, the city sprawled out below you like a broken mosaic of light and shadow. Jinx is lying on her back next to you, her arms stretched out above her head as she stares up at the smog-covered sky.

“Do you think the stars are still up there?” she asks suddenly, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

You glance at her, surprised by the question. “Of course they are.”

She hums, her eyes half-lidded. “I dunno. Feels like they might’ve all burned out by now, y’know? With how dark it’s gotten.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you stay quiet, your gaze drifting upward. The sky is heavy with smoke and pollution, the stars hidden behind layers of grime, but you like to think they’re still there, waiting.

Jinx shifts beside you, rolling onto her side so she’s facing you. “You ever think about leaving this place?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You turn to look at her, your heart clenching at the vulnerability in her expression. “Sometimes,” you admit. “But not without you.”

Her eyes widen, just a fraction, and for a moment, you think you’ve said the wrong thing. But then she laughs, a soft, breathless sound that makes your chest ache. “You’re such a sap,” she says, but there’s no malice in her tone. If anything, she sounds... touched.

“Maybe,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But I mean it.”

She stares at you for a long moment, her eyes searching yours like she’s trying to find the cracks in your sincerity. But you’ve never lied to her, not once, and you won’t start now.

Finally, she sighs, flopping onto her back again. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sunshine,” she mutters, but there’s a hint of a smile in her voice.

The night ends with her falling asleep against your shoulder, her breathing soft and even as the weight of the day finally catches up to her. You stay still, not wanting to wake her, and let your eyes drift shut as well.

For a moment, everything feels okay.

And for now, that’s enough.

The music box sits on her desk the next morning, finished and polished to perfection. When she wakes, groggy and blinking against the morning light, her eyes land on it, and you watch as her expression shifts from confusion to wonder.

She picks it up carefully, like it might shatter in her hands, and when she winds it up, the soft melody fills the room—a song she used to hum when you were kids, back before everything fell apart.

She doesn’t say anything, but when she looks at you, her eyes are shining, and for the first time in a long time, you see a piece of Powder there.

“Thank you,” she says, and this time, you know she means it.

You smile, reaching out to brush a strand of blue hair from her face. “Always.”

Masterlist

[ruruumin]

four mondays before christmas

₊˚ ᗢ itoshi rin x gn! reader.

⤷ decorating a christmas tree with him.

“why are we decorating so early?” rin asks. in his 6’1 glory, he stands almost the same height as the plastic christmas tree you bought from the store. he holds onto a large strand of string lights that were alternated between a turquoise blue and white. 

today was november 30th. while it was officially the end of autumn (a shame because he wished it could last forever, it being winter meant he had to stay inside more often), it was too early to be setting up a tree in the living room. you should have at least waited for the thanksgiving leftovers in your fridge to be finished before doing anything christmas-related.

“because it’ll be fun coming home to a fully decorated living room!” you smile, guiding his arms around the tree to secure the lights between the thick, sage green leaves. “this is our first christmas living together, so i want to make it special.” 

now this brings back memories. from the day you signed the lease with him, to moving in all your stuff into a shared room, he vividly recalls the time you and him decorated the living room together. from plushies to a large cream-colored sofa that sat against the wall, it became a place he could call home. he’s looming over you with a light scowl, not a heavy one, because god knows he’s too in love with you to give you one of his signature itoshi frown. 

“you should have waited a little until it was december, idiot,” he mutters the last part softly, watching as you connect all the lights together. rumbling through an old cardboard box, you pull out several matching ornaments. 

“why is our tree turquoise blue this year? shouldn’t it be the regular christmas colors?” 

a hum escapes your lips, “i thought it’d be cute to do a different theme every year. my idea for this year is a winter wonderland, so i got a ton of fake snow and blue ornaments!” holding up said decoration, you let it dangle in front of your boyfriend. “wouldn’t it be cute to do something new every year?”

he ‘hmphs’ in response. this was rin’s way of saying: i love you so much, i want us to keep living together every single year and have a different tree so we can show sae how much better of a couple we are, because we are still together. 

or at the very least, that is what you think he’s saying, because he is quietly humming alongside the same christmas song as you, eyes lovingly watching you as you tie your turquoise ornaments to the tree. 

[indelicateink]

THANK YOU prev, i was wondering if anyone else was seeing this. if I zoom in, it’s not the iris that’s moving I think—i think it’s the reflections flickering?

now. either those candles are super bright and going crazy (unlikely?); or being an actual film set and having entire people whose profession this is, i can admit yeah they set up lights that have some flicker to them (could be could be), OR: they could not keep their goddamn fingers off it and this is cgi that is giving us those anime eyes (possible)

and i feel like i’m the only one not loving how they cgi the actors’ eyes in this show lol. the pupils, okay—I totally get that: no problem. that adds value given the prosthetics. allowing the contacts to have an autonomic response brings some realness—and powerful emotion—to the work; it is also awesome for conveying things like You Have Just Pissed Off A Vampire, et al.

but sometimes the pupil dilation takes me out of it. they are adding *emotion* to the actor’s performance and taking away a little…agency? intimate artistic input?…and I feel like I’m standing just on the edge of the uncanny valley. —but this is a horror property. i’m rolling with it.

but where I do feel quite alone with my discomfort lol is with what they’ve done with armand’s eyes? i’m probably incorrect, but i can’t escape the feeling it was something that was fallen into when there was viewer backlash to armand’s eyes being so very orange in the s1 reveal: that they took it, but pivoted, and said Okay So No We Say This Was Intentional—Armand Is Special: for his eyes, they actually glow in times of arousal and are more moderate in times of calm. and if that’s the case—pivoting—hand to god I wish they’d just toned down the color and we would have rolled with it, because it’s tv, and creative changes happen all the time from season to season and the audience honestly doesn’t gaf beyond going “oh hey” and moving tf on

and if that’s the case, it was almost as if they couldn’t leave his eyes alone at only that. and the next thing—i just. at first I thought it was a mistake in the cgi, and then i slowly accepted the intentionality.

they give only armand nystagmus, rapid uncontrollable eye movements. (frank langella and pruitt taylor vince have nystagmus—except in armand it is super exaggerated.) again, like armand’s glowing orange eyes, they only move like this during times of his very heightened emotion. and uh…again: it’s a horror property (okay sure go for it, make him a very special supernatural boy) vs someone else layering emotion on top of an actor’s performance (ehhh do not love). the movement is so very exaggerated that, to me, it’s wildly in danger of parody (like the glowing orange eyes, which themselves had already slipped into affectionate fan parody), but so far the fandom has been very accepting. and to me, because nystagmus is a real thing in people that here is so wildly exaggerated here when he “monsters out,” it’s nails on a chalkboard. but i’m trying to accept it over time.

and then. then they subtly played with lestat’s eye color. did we decide that was to be a gentle indicator of dreamstat, to set him apart even more? i’m not mad at it (and hey, at least it is surely a practical effect), but when i’m already grumpy about them fucking with their eyes, i can’t not not notice that they are, once again, fucking with eyes here lol. but whatever with this one. if they stop fucking around with it now, i’m chill.

the daniel thing was kinda fun. at this point in my grumpiness i’m just like fuck it, nothing matters, give him magic colored eyes like an x-men mutant lol, i will just let it wash over me. maybe they’ll shape-shift next. i will recite The Litany Against Being A Book Purist like i’m paul atreides undergoing torture like the histrionic purist that i am lol

anyway, lestat’s eyes here are very beautiful. if they fucked with them with cgi i’ll be illogically grumpy about it. if it is a practical effect i will, irrationally, be very chill with it. (did you know the replicants’ eyes in blade runner were a practical effect?? fucking awesome.) I don’t know. something something being in the room with the actor during the performance vs enhancing his performance later via software. i’m just so goddamn pleased they’re not glowing.

I don’t know how to caption this but the amount of times I rewinded Lestat’s reaction when Louis steps closer is alarming

[i2rizz]

Stuck in a storm Pt.1

Summary: You get stuck in a storm with the Blue Lock boys.. how will they react?

Featuring: Isagi,Rin,Bachira,Kunigami,Chigiri

------------‐---------------------------------------

Yoichi Isagi

•At first, he tries to act calm and logical. He scans the surroundings, pointing out where to find the best shelter. "Over there—it looks like there’s a covered bus stop. Let’s head there before it gets worse."

•He’s the type to immediately offer his jacket even if it means standing in the rain himself. When you insist you don’t need it, he shakes his head. "No, seriously, I’m fine. Just take it. You’ll get sick if you don’t."

•Checks his phone obsessively for weather updates or to see if the storm will pass soon, only to groan when the signal cuts out. "Figures. Of course, the one time I actually need my phone…"

•He’s not used to moments like this and fidgets awkwardly while trying to keep you comfortable.

•When thunder cracks loudly and you flinch, his protective instincts kick in. Without thinking, he grabs your hand, his voice soft and reassuring. "It’s okay, I’m here."

•Later, when he realizes what he’s done, his face heats up, and he stammers out an apology. "Uh, sorry. That wasn’t weird, was it? I just… wanted to make sure you were okay."

•Deep down, though, he’s secretly happy he got to hold your hand, even if it was for a brief moment.

Rin Itoshi

•The moment it starts pouring, Rin groans in frustration. He pulls his hood up but glares at the storm like it personally offended him. "Just my luck," he mutters, his tone icy.

•He doesn’t say much at first, just scanning the area for shelter. When he spots a small abandoned shed nearby, he gestures for you to follow him. "Over there. Let’s go."

•The atmosphere is awkward at first because Rin doesn’t exactly know how to be comforting. Instead, he silently shrugs off his jacket and places it around your shoulders, avoiding eye contact. "Don’t argue. Just take it."

•Stands stiffly by the entrance, crossing his arms and muttering about how inconvenient the storm is. "I could be doing something productive right now."

•You try to lighten the mood by pointing out how pretty the lightning looks, and he gives you a sidelong glance. "It’s just light," he says flatly, but the faintest smirk tugs at his lips when he catches you staring at it in awe.

•When thunder rumbles and you instinctively grab his arm, he freezes but doesn’t pull away. His voice softens slightly. "You don’t have to act scared. It’s just noise."

Meguru Bachira

•When the rain starts, Bachira laughs like it’s the most exciting thing to ever happen. "This is awesome! Free shower, anyone?"

•He doesn’t even bother running at first, instead splashing through puddles like a kid. He turns back to you with a playful grin. "What? You’re gonna stand there and miss all the fun?"

•Eventually, he notices you shivering and drags you under a tree for some shelter, shaking out his hair like a wet dog and accidentally spraying water all over you. "Oops! My bad."

•To keep you distracted from the cold, he starts playing silly games like “Would You Rather” or “I Spy,” but his answers are always bizarre. "Would you rather fight a hundred duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck?"

•When thunder strikes and you jump, he doesn’t miss a beat. "Woah! Scary stuff, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!" He says it dramatically but ends up clinging to you instead.

•By the end of it, he’s convinced this whole situation is a “romantic adventure” and teases you about it. "See? Told you we’d make the most of this. Now we’ve got a stormy love story to tell everyone."

Rensuke Kunigami

•The responsible one, Kunigami immediately takes charge when the storm starts. "We need to find shelter before this gets worse. Come on, let’s move quickly."

•He keeps a protective arm around your back, guiding you toward the nearest safe spot he can find, which turns out to be an old pavilion.

•Once there, he insists on giving you his jacket, brushing off your protests. "I’ll be fine. You’re the one I’m worried about."

•Always prepared, he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to you to dry your face. "It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing."

•To keep the mood light, he starts joking about how this feels like the beginning of a survival movie. "Think we’ll have to start rationing snacks soon?"

•When thunder rolls, and you cling to his arm, he chuckles softly but doesn’t say a word, just pulling you closer. His steady presence alone is enough to make you feel safe.

•After the rain lightens up, he looks at you with a gentle smile. "You okay now? Let’s get you somewhere warm."

Hyoma Chigiri

•When the rain starts, Chigiri lets out a dramatic sigh, already annoyed. "Great. Just what I needed today."

•He’s not a fan of running in the rain but picks up the pace slightly to make sure you’re not completely drenched.

•Finds a small overhang and guides you there, pulling you close so you can both share the limited space.

•Starts fussing over his hair, muttering about how it’s going to take forever to fix. "You don’t know how much effort it takes to keep it looking this good."

•Offers you his jacket with a teasing smirk. "But only because you’ll owe me after this. I don’t just hand out my stuff for free, you know."

•When thunder roars and you instinctively grab his arm, he raises an eyebrow but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he smirks and leans closer. "Scared? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. You’re welcome."

•By the end of it, he’s back to teasing you, calling this the “most dramatic storm adventure ever.” But there’s a warmth in his eyes that shows he secretly enjoyed looking out for you.

[punkkture]

does anyone else ever want to be a pornstar for simon riley ???

simon is coming home from the store one day, you had asked him to go grab a couple things you forgot you needed to cook dinner with— and when the front door opens, youre too lost in your own world to hear it. his heavy footsteps up the stairs go unnoticed, and only when it’s too late do you notice him walking through the doorway.

your phone in your hands, legs spread, whining to yourself and trying to mimick the feeling simon can derive from you when his fingers are deep inside you. its not the same. even if the little puddle on the bedding says otherwise.

the second you notice his presence you flip the phone down, squeeze your legs shut, and your palm slaps tight over that mouth that was just making such lewd noises.

simon chuckles because of course he does. thats funny. this is funny to him. his missus really thought she could get off to something other than him? its amusing.

“baby, you gotta start locking the door and goin’ to the bathroom if this is really what you wanna do . .” he would retort to you, walking over to the bed.

his hand grabs for your phone as youre still trying to steady your breathing. but he already knows what’s going on. theres no point in hiding it. “simon i- i really-“

he cuts you off, “lets see what you were watchin’ hm?” and thats what makes your heart kind of sink. simon flips the screen back over and his eyes widen only a little bit, its all in amusement.

you whine in embarrassment as your face turns red, squeezing your fatty thighs together even more. waiting for him to humiliate you, which he inevitably does. it was some pretty dirty stuff you had been watching, something you would probably never have told him you actually watched. a little homemade video a couple had filmed. it wasnt anything rougher than what simon has already put you through . . but the guy kept shoving the camera in the girls face. wet slaps being heard as he bullied his cock into the girl from behind. you could see him lean forward to get a perfect view of the girls fucked out face— was that what drew you to it?

“were you trying to picture this happening to yourself, sweetie?” he teases with an arrogant smirk plastered on his face. he wasnt mad at all, getting home and seeing you like this, all ready for him, he loved it. “you a little exhibitionist?” he continued to tease until you nodded. it was always easy to be honest with him.

your face so red at the idea of being caught. you know he would never genuinely make fun of you— it didn’t make it any less embarrassing however.

but simon seeing the expression on your face and the redness that had overtaken it, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

“theres no need to be so shy, baby” he muses to you. turning the phone off and throwing it somewhere in the bed as he crawls up to you. all the way until those pretty eyes of yours he loved so much were staring up at him as he rested between your legs he spread back open. “dont worry . . ‘m not mad at you for this. just a little . . curious now.” his frame leans down as your hands instinctively go to softly rest on his muscled shoulders. “you thinking of being a little pornstar arent you? you want to be on film with your face all blushed, doing pretty things for the camera?” he teases in a light tone, his warm lips already kissing at your neck.

it only took him another five minutes before he was the one laying down against the headboard with you between his legs. your face near his jeans as his right hand carded through your hair sweetly and lazily. in his other hand, he held his phone—camera turned on and pointing at you.

“say hi, sweetheart,” he mused with a smirk, watching your face through the camera. simon’s warm palm and fingers brushing against your face every so often when he was carding through your hair made you feel more comfortable. he reminded you it was just the two of you before all this started. he praised you with a pat on the cheek when a gentle ‘hi’ was heard from your mouth.

“open your mouth and let the camera see that pretty tongue of yours” he spoke. his eyes watching you intently though the camera screen. your wet mouth opening and tongue sticking out. warm strings of spit coating your tongue and dripping down onto the bulge in his pants.

thats all it took for him to instruct you to unbuckle his belt and pull him out of his jeans. soft praises mumbled the entire time you did. simon let out a sigh when you finally held him in your hands.

god he wanted nothing more that to bury himself in that little mouth of yours. his right hand went back to your hair. leaning you down closer to his aching and leaking cock. you didnt think you had ever seen it this needy before. a clear glistening streak of warm precum was already sliding down his thick shaft. the tip was red and needy, like he had never fucked you before.

“open up, baby . . . gotta show the camera how good you are,” he coaxed gently. “lets see how far that pretty little mouth can take me, hm?” he asked as he pulled your head closer to him.

your tongue came out to lick up the drips of precum he had been leaking. warm, open mouth kisses along the length of him. going back to his base and licking a wet stripe all the way up until your puffy lips wrapped around his tip. sucking in any more of the salty essence he was leaking. your eyes flicking up to him and seeing only his mouth agape with soft groans as he held his phone camera up to film you.

the way simon’s fingers were digging into your scalp let you know that he was going to get more from you soon— and he sure did.

your lips covered and coated in spit as his hand bobbed you up and down on his thick cock. your eyes watering from the pressure of him hitting the back of your throat over and over again. gags and squelching noises intertwining with his harsh groans and puffs of breath. your hair falling in your face a little bit as his motions got sloppy. his hips now rutting up to meet your mouth even though he was already shoving you down onto him. your nose pressing against his abdomen as you gagged roughly around him. he kept you there for a good couple of seconds, rutting his hips up into you. your eyes squeezing shut from the pressure of him reaching the deep part of your throat. he moaned and hissed in a breath at the feeling of your gummy throat pressing up against his sensitive tip.

he pulled you up and off of him. a gag coming from you as a little bit of spit and cum dripped off of your coated tongue. only slightly being able to taste his release since he had finished so deeply in the back of your throat. your lips were puffy. spit and cum just caked down your chin and neck. covering the entirety of his cock and pelvis. streaks of black mascara and eyeliner streaking down your cheeks. you were just so messy.

simon chuckled breathlessly at the sight of you. he leaned up, grabbed your jaw and cheeks with his big hand, making sure to get his camera right up in your face.

“pretty baby so messy for the camera . . . say ‘ahh’ let them see.” the way he spoke, you could tell he was restless and out of breath at the same time.

parting your lips and sticking your tongue out— coated in his release and a little glob of your spit stringing down and kissing his overstimulated tip that was right under you. keeping your hazy and teary eyes on the camera lens for him. he patted your cheek, turning the video off.

“good baby . . . such a good baby.”

quick little thought i had to get out lolz

[emchante]

mistletoe meetings | d. ricciardo

merry smutmas - day 1: mistletoe

warnings: 18+ content, pwp/porn with plot, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), light praise kink, slight cliche fluff part-way through.

w.c. 3.5k

the cold-white christmas lights twinkled against the frosted windows of the cozy chalet, casting a glow over the party inside. the air buzzed with laughter and the occasional sound of a beer cap being popped off the glass bottle. the host had outdone themselves; garlands of greenery lined the mantelpiece, candles flickered on every surface, and the star of the show was the 7ft tall christmas tree. 

admittedly you hadn’t planned to come to the party tonight, but a persuasive friend insisted this would be the christmas party, and you wouldn’t want to miss it. 

the sound of a deep, easy laugh broke your train of thought, and you turned in the direction it came from. a man you hadn’t seen before was leaned against a counter, holding his beer with his other hand, his face glowing with amusement at something the person in front of him had said. his curls framed his face, and his smile was so genuine it seemed to light up the space around him. 

your heart skipped a beat when his gaze suddenly moved onto you. it was brief, nothing major, but it was enough to send a light blush onto your face. you turned your face down, the lip of the bottle suddenly became fascinating. 

“looking at someone?” your friend teased, magically appearing at your side. jesus. 

“no,” you replied a little too quickly, the warmth on your cheeks becoming hotter. 

your friend smirked knowingly at you, “riiight,” she dragged out, rolling her eyes. “well he’s single, but you don’t care about that so..”

the way you perked up wasn’t at all subtle, made obvious by your friend snicker at your reaction. 

before you could tell her off, a burst of gasps came from around the kitchen. you both turned to see two people caught under a mistletoe, looking at each other bewildered. there were cheers, and a few ‘you know the rules!!’ shouted, in case they had tried to walk off. 

it took them a moment, but everyone cheered when the two leaned in to kiss each other. your friendly smiled at the sight, but you rolled your eyes. 

“remind me to avoid that doorway,” you spoke up, causing your friend to give you a gentle nudge as she shook her head. 

“nuh-uh!” she scoffed, winking at you. “it’s a christmas party, and some fun! plus, i think i know someone you’d like to be under it with,” she raised her brows, causing you to glare at her. 

you made a mental note to avoid that doorway at all costs, reminding yourself every time you were near it. 

though as the night wore on, and despite your best efforts to avoid the kitchen, it was almost impossible. especially when your bottle was empty, and you needed another. if you were fast enough, you were sure you’d be able to avoid walking under the mistletoe with someone. 

you continuously looked left and right as you neared the kitchen, making sure nobody was heading for there at the same time as you. however, you were so caught up that you didn’t see the man standing at the entrance of the kitchen. 

“woah there,” a deep voice spoke, holding you by the shoulders after you had walked into his chest. “careful where you’re walking.”

you glanced up startled and— oh, there he was. 

the man from earlier, with the loud laugh and bright smile was right in front of you. and the signature smile was on his face once again, and one could argue it was wider this time. the scent of his cologne filled your nose, captivating you in a trance as you stared up at him. his curls were a little messier now, and his cheeks were a little pinker from his alcohol consumption. 

“sorry! shit, i’m sorry. i clearly wasn’t..“ you started to ramble, but you trailed off when you noticed his gaze wasn’t on you anymore. you followed it up and shit. 

the mistletoe. hanging right above the two of you. 

“oh,” you muttered with a gulp. your eyes moved back to daniel’s face, and he was already looking at you with a light smirk. 

“looks like we’ve got ourselves in a little situation,” he spoke up, one of the hands on your shoulders giving it a squeeze, as the other had his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin. 

daniel could see the nervous look in your eyes, and he gave you a wink. “hey, i’m not going to traumatise you with my technique,” he laughed lightly, moving his face closer to your own. as soon as his lips were hovering yours, he muttered a “promise,” before closing the gap. 

the kiss was over quicker than you anticipated, and you couldn’t believe it but— you craved a longer one. his soft, plump lips felt amazing against yours, and the tease of his tongue running against them was a pleasant surprise. 

“see? harmless,” he said, pulling away with a pleased expression. he extended his hand out, with a “the name’s daniel, by the way,” dropping from his lips. 

you shook his hand in return, giving him your name. he repeated it softly with a soft squeeze to your hand before he let go. 

“well, i’ll see you around,” he grinned, nodding before he brushed past you and back into the crowd of the lively party. 

you finally exhaled, not realising you had been holding your breath for so long. 

the next time you saw him, it was almost too coincidental to be true. a cliche, some might say. 

you had moved to a quieter corner of the party, chatting with the friend you had came to the party with. you zoned out of the conversation when daniel entered your vision, a grin on his face as he walked towards you. 

“there you are! my mistletoe buddy,” he laughed, chasing a small giggle to escape you. you seen your friend gawking in your peripheral vision and oops, you hadn’t told her about it. well, at least she knew now. 

“funny seeing you here,” you smiled with a raised brow, and daniel gave you a small shrug. 

“well, i’d say it’s funnier for that guy up there,” he told you, causing you to frown in confusion. you looked up and— shit, really?

another mistletoe. there it was— a fresh sprig of mistletoe hung directly above you. 

“now, you know it’s a tradition,” he winked, making you pout at him. you tried to jest, muttering how traditions were made to be broken, but daniel shook his head. “nope, they’re made to be honoured.”

you rolled your eyes at him, taking a step closer. daniel took a step closer too, his hand moving to cup your cheek, tilting your head up towards him. 

“pucker up, buttercup,” he muttered, making you burst into a fit of giggles as you pulled away. “huh— what?”

“really? pucker up, buttercup?” you laughed, and daniel started laughing along too.

“hey! i’m trying to ease the tension,” he muttered, pulling you back in to him again, his thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek softly. 

the kiss was a little longer this time, daniel tilting his head after a few seconds to get a better angle, trying to memorise your lips. he cheekily nipped at your bottom lip, a surprised but soft whine escaping you before daniel pulled away. he didn’t pull away fully though, leaning in and placing a chaste peck on your lips before stepping back. 

“well, you know what they say,” he says as he licks his lips, eyeing you up. you tilt your head, beckoning him to go on. 

“third time’s the charm, right?” he winks, taking a few steps back. “and lucky for you, three’s my lucky number,” he finished, before doing a 180 and delving back into the crowd. 

“so, when were you going to tell me about this?” your friend exclaims, after struggling to stay silent the full time. 

and then, it wasn’t long before fate— or the host’s mischievous decorations— brought you together again. admittedly you were trying to leave the party unnoticed, slipping into the back hallway towards the coat rack, when daniel rounded the corner. 

“going somewhere?” he asked, causing you to jump on the spot, head turning to him. you let out an exhale when you seeing it was only him, your body becoming less tense. 

“well i was— shit nevermind,” you mumble, knowing there was no point lying now you were caught. “it’s getting late, i was going to head.”

“well, not before one last kiss i’d hope,” he let out, voice pitching up at the end. you looked up and your body slumped when you seen the mistletoe above you, again.  

“how does this keep happening?” you ask,  half laughing but half seriously asking— because how?

“hey, i told you three was my lucky number. maybe the universe wants to show you,” he teased, walking to your side. 

you bit your lip at how close he got so quickly, his cologne once again filling your nostrils and hypnotising you with thoughts of daniel and only daniel. 

���maybe.. maybe it is,” you mumbled, taking one more step before there was no more space. your noses were right in front of one another, and you could feel daniel’s hot breath against you. his gaze flicked to your mouth before returning back to your eyes. 

“will you let me show you?” he asked, voice barely a whisper. you didn’t even respond, closing the gap between you both instantly. 

this kiss wasn’t short or playful like the other two had been, this one was different. this one truly meant something. it deepened quickly, daniel’s hand moving to your waist as he pulled your front against his own. you lost yourself in the kiss, his lips moving against yours with such ease and confidence that your knees started to feel weak. 

when you finally pulled apart, daniel’s head rested gently upon your own, his breath warm against your cheek. 

“don’t leave yet,” he muttered, his voice husky. “stay, and i’ll show you a good time. i know you haven’t had one tonight,” he finished, licking his lips. 

you pondered for a few moments, before you gave in and nodded. “okay, okay. i’ll stay,” you agreed, cheeks heating up at the smile he gave you. 

“let’s start with getting out this hallway, hm?” he winked, reaching out for your hand and taking it. 

daniel guided you further into the back, head dipping into rooms to make sure they weren’t already occupied. thankfully, it didn’t take him too long to find a free room, and he stood to the side to allow you to enter first. 

“much better,” he mumbled, locking the bedroom door before turning round to see you. you were perched on the end of the bed, staring up at him and keeping your gaze on him as he slowly stalked towards you. 

daniel’s hand moved to your hair, gently pushing it back, with a little force so that your head tilted back along with it. “you’re gorgeous,” he broke the silence, causing your cheeks to blossom with warmth. “i wasn’t expecting to meet anyone here tonight, and then i bumped into you. and admittedly, i was hoping we’d keep meeting under that mistletoe.”

you giggled and shook your head, moving your head to the side, but daniel’s hand slid down to catch you by the cheek, making you look at him. “don’t hide that pretty face from me,” he let out quietly. 

daniel’s thumb brushed against your cheek again, the touch warm and deliberate. his eyes searched yours momentarily, and the intensity of his gaze made your breath hitch. slowly, he leaned in so his lips were hovering your own. 

when he kissed you, it was soft and unhurried, now that he finally had you to himself. his lips moved against yours with gentle confidence, his hand still cradling your cheek as he did so. you melted into him, your hands finding their way to the fabric of his sweater, curling into the wooly fabric as you pulled him closer. 

“you’re incredible,” he murmured between kisses, his words making your cheeks burn hotter. his other hand slid to your ass, sliding his arm under to lift you further up onto the bed. the pressure of his lips and the way his tongue teased you sent heat right to your core. 

as your bodies grew closer, the world outside the room disappeared entirely. there was nobody else, no christmas party— just daniel. just daniel with his scratchy stubble, warm hands, and his soft, heart-shaped lips. 

when you pulled back for the first time, you moved so your head was against the pillows, titled right back. daniel moved accordingly. legs at either side of you as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips. 

“i can’t stop looking at you,” he admitted lowly, eyes mapping your body. “you’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”

his words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, but that wasn’t the only reason. daniel moved onto your neck now that you had given him easy access, placing wet kisses all against your skin.  your eyes fluttered shut, soft breathe escaping you as he continued to give your neck the attention it needed. 

his hands trailed down your body slowly, fingers running in different directions before they all ended at the same destination; the hem of your sweater. daniel placed one last kiss to your neck before he pulled back, and you tilted your head round to see him. 

“can i?” he asked softly, gently tugging on the hem to give you an idea on what he was talking about. you agreed of course, nodding as you lifted your arms up, allowing daniel to get your sweater off with ease. 

his eyes raked over you, resting on your chest for the most part but they trailed down your stomach, eyeing the clothed area that was his final goal. he placed a soft kiss on your stomach, before leaving a trail of them upwards and the final one was placed upon your sternum. 

suddenly, his hands were on each of your breasts, pushing them closer to his face as he littered kisses over each of them. he started with your right, soft lips running over it as he placed the lightest kisses over your skin, moving up towards your nipple before he placed a soft, teasing kiss atop it, moving to your left breast. 

you shined whined out at the light tease, but you had no reason to fear, as he took a different approach with your left breast. the kisses were a little harsher, there were more biting this time around, and when he trailed his tongue up to your nipple, he swirled his tongue around it in a circle before sucking on it gently. 

the moan you let out in return was satisfying enough for him, and he pulled back to watch your flushed face. his hands squeezed your breasts softly, and daniel admired you as you writhed at the pleasure that coursed through your body. 

“perfect.. you’re so perfect,” he told you, thumbs running across your hardened nipples gently. “i can’t believe you’ve been hiding from me all my life.”

you flushed at the praise, but tried to distract yourself with helping daniel pull off his own sweater. it took a moment to get off his head, his curls bouncing around from the roughhousing which made you both giggle. you only had a short moment to admire his chest, and eye his prominent happy trail before daniel’s lips were back on yours. 

daniel unloosened his belt, throwing it off to the side as he slid his trousers off, and while he done that you got your bottom half undressed too. when you both met again face-to-face on the bed, you were both stark naked, yet your eyes were still glued to each other. 

he moved closer, his nose rubbing against your own before he placed a soft kiss against your lips. “i want to make you feel so good, sweetheart.”

your hands moved to his head, fingers threading through his curls and tugging them gently. his lips landed on yours again, kissing you softly, delicately— as if you’d break, otherwise. 

“i need you danny,” you mutter as you pull away, giving him a pleading look. “please make me feel good,” you tell him, placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

daniel doesn’t need to be told twice, positioning his cock so that his tip was nudging at your entrance. he looked up to you, one last time to silently ask ‘is this okay?’ and when you nodded, he was given the go ahead. 

daniel pushed himself into you slowly, stretching you out on his thick cock. you couldn’t help the string of moans that escaped you as he pushed further into you, filling you up with just him. 

his eyes wondered to yours, light worry sparking in them. “you alright?” he asks, waiting until you reply before he dares to move. 

it takes you a moment as you gulp before letting out a deep exhale through your nose, trying to get used to his size. “yeah i’m… i’m okay,” you confirm, giving him a soft smile to reassure him. 

daniel began to move slowly, but not in a teasing way— moreso in a way to make sure you were alright, and could get used to his size at a steady pace. daniel’s head fell forward, forehead resting against yours as he thrusted in and out of you. 

your whines and pants only spurred him on, and he had to hold himself back from going faster. you could tell he was holding back too, so you grabbed his face to pull him in for a kiss. “please danny, move faster,” you asked desperately, and how could he deny you?

daniel done so as soon as the words left your mouth, speeding up his pace just like you requested. daniel couldn’t stop himself from moving his head back to your neck, kissing over the skin as he breathed in your intoxicating scent. he groaned lowly after he inhaled, teeth sinking into the skin of your neck. 

“you— fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters into your neck, nose pressed deeply against it as if he was entranced by the scent of you. “and you’re so beautiful. you’re perfect, and i can’t believe we just met,” he continues, kissing your neck and trailing it up your chin, moving to place a passionate kiss on your lips. “got so much lost time to make up on baby, and i’m going to be in you for most of it.”

daniel’s words were hypnotising, the deep grumble of his low accented voice, as well as the power of his words had you inching closer to the edge. you thrusted your hips up against him, desperate to feel more of him— all of him. 

“please danny— shit.. need you, need this,” you plead, arms moving around his shoulders so your nails could scrape down his tanned, toned back. 

“come on then sweetheart,” he encouraged you, forehead resting against yours again as he started to thrust into you faster, feeling himself get closer too. “finish for me, show me how much tonight has meant to you,” he whispered, lips crashing onto yours one last time before your orgasm came coursing through you. 

your body trembled as you couldn’t do anything but moan, and whine out daniel’s name. your hips continued to buck up as you rode out your orgasm, and that only pushed daniel towards his own. the movements, the sight of you, the pleas falling from your mouth— it was all too much for daniel to keep it together. 

daniel is a smart man, he pulls out just before the coil snaps for him. his hand wraps around his aching, bright red cock, stroking it up and down to help him with his orgasm. you’re still in a daze from your own, but through hooded eyes you watch daniel rutting into his own hand, head tiled right back as the cum came out of his cock, slicking up his hand just nicely. 

after daniel’s was over, he slumped forward and fell onto the bed beside you. he turned to you, admiring you despite the flushed cheeks, messy hair and panting chest. he moved his hand— the clean one, obviously— up to your face, pulling you in to give you one last soft kiss. 

“you’re absolutely amazing sweetheart,” he told you again, voice hoarse from the noises he had been making just moments before. “and i’m serious when i say i want to see you again, and make up for lost time. i’m drawn to you baby, won’t be able to stop thinking about you.”

you giggle at daniel’s words, nodding and moving your face to kiss the palm of his hand that held your cheek. 

“i’d like that too, danny.”

smutmas taglist: @lilorose25 @thenotoriouserg @a-distantdreamer @leclercsluvs @fat-meh @wintxr-widow @amirahart <3

[mingi-s-dimples]

Sparring Partners - Jongho

KINKTOBER DAY 25, REQ. BY anon

~"Jongho+ virginity+ he's experienced, but reader is a virgin"

pairing: jongho x fem!reader

genre: 18+, some soft moments

summary: you and jongho, sparring partners since forever. tho, something shifted in the air the night you decided to stay over schedule and workout..

wc: 6k

warnings: sparring partners, play fight/controlled fight mentioned, reader is a virgin, lots of teasing, making out, penetration, eating out, multiple orgasms, some fluff at the end, they cuddle, unprotected (boo use protection irl!), unedited, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: I had to okay... i had to add boxing in one of my fics 😞😞😞 fun fact I have a black belt in taekwondo but haven't practiced in years because of my knee 😩 fuck inexperienced fightersss. anywayss sorry for the delay ml i hope you like it !!!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The gym echoed with the sharp sounds of punches hitting the heavy bag and sneakers squeaking against the mat. It was late evening, and the training space was nearly empty, save for a few stragglers winding down their routines. You tightened the laces on your gloves, adjusting the wraps underneath, and rolled your shoulders to loosen up. This was your sanctuary—a place where you could lose yourself in the rhythm of training and momentarily forget the chaos of life outside.

And then there was Jongho.

“Ready to get knocked on your ass again?” his voice rang out from behind you.

You groaned inwardly but didn’t bother turning around. “You’ve got jokes today, huh?”

He walked past you, his presence annoyingly commanding. Dressed in his usual black tank top and joggers, he looked every bit the confident fighter you’d always known. Jongho had been your best friend since high school, but lately, your relationship had taken a turn. The constant teasing, the competitive jabs—it all felt heavier, charged with something neither of you dared to name.

“Come on,” he said, stretching his arms overhead, his muscles flexing in a way that shouldn’t have been distracting. “I’m just keeping you on your toes. If you want to get better, you’ve got to keep up with me.”

You rolled your eyes but followed him to the sparring ring. “You’re so full of yourself. Just because you’ve got a little more experience doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own.”

Jongho smirked, leaning casually against the ropes as you climbed in. “A little more experience? Sweetheart, I could train you in my sleep.”

The nickname stung, but you masked it with a glare. “If you’re so confident, maybe I’ll surprise you tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Alright. Show me what you’ve got.”

The banter was a familiar dance, but beneath the surface, it prickled at your pride. Jongho had always been ahead of you—in life, in love, in the ring. You couldn’t deny his skill or his charm, but his cockiness got under your skin. Tonight, though, you were determined to prove yourself.

The two of you squared up, circling each other in the ring. You kept your stance low, your fists raised, and your eyes locked on his. He moved with a relaxed confidence, his footwork fluid and precise.

“Don’t overthink it,” he said, his tone lighter now. “You always hesitate before throwing a punch.”

“I don’t hesitate,” you shot back, aiming a quick jab at his midsection.

He dodged effortlessly, his lips quirking into a grin. “Yes, you do.”

Your frustration grew as you continued sparring. No matter how hard you tried, Jongho always seemed to anticipate your moves, countering with ease. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat while you were already feeling the strain.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted, blocking your punch and pushing you back with a light shove.

You stumbled but caught yourself, narrowing your eyes. “Shut up and fight me properly.”

His expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something serious passing through his eyes. “Alright, then.”

In a blur of movement, Jongho closed the distance between you, his punches coming faster and harder. You managed to block most of them, but his sheer power was overwhelming. Before you knew it, he had you pinned against the ropes, his hands gripping your wrists to immobilize you.

“Gotcha,” he said, his voice low and smug.

Your heart pounded—not just from the exertion, but from the closeness of him. His face was inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. You tried to ignore the way your body reacted, the way your stomach fluttered in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

“Let go,” you said, your voice shakier than you’d intended.

“Not until you admit I’m better,” he teased, though his grip loosened slightly.

You glared at him, but the intensity of his gaze made it hard to hold. His dark eyes seemed to search yours, as if he was looking for something beyond your usual banter. For a moment, neither of you moved, the charged silence stretching between you.

And then he let go, stepping back with a smirk. “We’ll call it a draw.”

“Like hell we will,” you muttered, shaking off the strange tension as you moved to reset your stance.

But the truth was, you couldn’t shake it. Something had shifted in that moment, and it lingered in the air between you.

---

You stayed at the gym longer than usual, working the heavy bag long after Jongho had left. Or at least, you thought he’d left.

When you finally peeled off your gloves and headed to the locker room, you found him sitting on one of the benches, scrolling through his phone.

“Why are you still here?” you asked, startled.

He looked up, his expression unreadable. “Waiting for you.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why?”

He shrugged, standing and walking toward you. “Because you’ve been off all night, and I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on,” you said, brushing past him to grab your water bottle.

“Bullshit,” he said, his tone sharper now. “You’ve been pissed at me for weeks, and I don’t even know why. Did I do something, or are you just in a bad mood?”

His bluntness caught you off guard, and you turned to face him, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re just—ugh, you’re so infuriating sometimes! You act like you’re better than me at everything, like I’m some kind of joke to you.”

Jongho blinked, clearly taken aback. “Is that what you think?”

“Yeah, it is,” you said, your voice rising. “You’re always teasing me, always showing off. I get it—you’re more experienced, more skilled, whatever. You don’t have to rub it in my face all the time.”

He stared at you for a moment, his jaw tightening. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Then what are you doing?” you demanded, crossing your arms.

Jongho took a step closer, his voice softer now. “I’m trying to push you because I know how good you can be. I don’t want you to settle for anything less than your best. If I tease you, it’s because I care, not because I think you’re a joke.”

His words caught you off guard, and you felt your anger deflate slightly. “You… care?”

“Of course I care,” he said, his gaze steady. “You’re my best friend. And if I’ve been an ass about it, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was getting to you like this.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and you looked away, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “It’s not just that,” you admitted quietly. “It’s… everything. I feel like I’m always trying to catch up to you, like I’ll never be on your level. And it’s exhausting.”

Jongho’s expression softened, and he reached out to gently tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’re already on my level, whether you see it or not. And for what it’s worth… I’ve always admired how hard you work. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

The warmth in his gaze made your breath hitch, and for a moment, you felt like the world had stopped. There was something different in the way he was looking at you now—something deeper, more intense.

“Jongho…” you started, but you didn’t know what to say.

He stepped even closer, his hand still resting lightly on your chin. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. You’re enough just as you are.”

The words were like a balm to your insecurities, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Before you could overthink it, you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his chest.

He hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close. The steady beat of his heart against your ear was oddly soothing, and you let yourself relax into his embrace.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been too hard on you,” he murmured. “I just want you to see what I see.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “And what do you see?”

Jongho’s gaze flicked to your lips for the briefest moment before returning to your eyes. “Someone incredible,” he said simply.

The air between you was thick with unspoken tension, and for the first time, you didn’t shy away from it. You let yourself feel the weight of his words, the intensity of his gaze, and the steady warmth of his hands on your waist.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but before you knew it, your lips were brushing against his. It was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but the moment he responded, the kiss deepened, growing more urgent and passionate.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

“Jongho,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I’ve got you,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. “Trust me.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could.

Jongho’s thumb lingered on your cheek, the touch searing into your skin, while his other hand slid with maddening ease to your waist, his fingers curling around you with a firm possessiveness that made your breath catch. The heat of his hands burned through the thin fabric separating you, and the way his eyes locked onto yours—dark, hungry, unrelenting—made the rest of the world fall away.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, the rough timbre of his voice sending a delicious shiver down your spine. His lips tilted into a slow, knowing smirk. “Don’t tell me I make you nervous.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the words died on your lips when he leaned in, his lips brushing over yours with a teasing lightness. “Come here,” he growled, his voice thick with command, leaving no room for argument.

When his mouth claimed yours again, it wasn’t gentle. It was consuming—deep, insistent, as though he were tasting something he’d craved for far too long. His hands tightened on your waist, tugging you against him as a soft gasp escaped you, only for him to swallow it with another hungry kiss.

He broke away just enough to breathe, his forehead pressing against yours as his thumb traced over your lower lip, swollen from his kisses. “Look at you,” he teased, his tone playful but laced with a dangerous edge. “So quiet now. Where’s all that attitude from earlier? You had so much to say before.”

The heat rushing to your face made your cheeks burn, but you forced yourself to glare at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble. “I—I hate you,” you muttered, the stammer in your voice betraying your conviction.

A low, rich laugh rumbled from his chest as his grip on your waist shifted, his fingers skimming the curve of your hip. “Hate me?” he repeated, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth in a featherlight tease. “Funny. Doesn’t feel like hate when you’re clinging to me like this.”

“I’m not—” you started, but his hands slid higher, his thumbs grazing the bare skin just beneath your ribs.

“Not what?” he cut in, his smirk widening. His voice dropped lower, the teasing note darkening into something more carnal. “Not shaking? Not holding onto me like I’m the only thing keeping you standing? Not pressing those pretty little legs together, trying to pretend I’m not getting to you?”

Your breath hitched sharply, and the way his gaze dipped to your thighs—still pressed tightly together—made your stomach twist in a way that was both mortifying and electrifying.

“Jongho,” you warned, though your voice came out more like a whimper than you’d have liked.

“Oh, don’t stop now,” he purred, leaning closer until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “You’re cute when you’re flustered. Almost makes me want to keep going. See how far I can push you before you beg me to stop—or beg me not to.”

“Y-You’re insufferable,” you bit out, your hands finding his chest as you tried to push him away.

But Jongho held his ground easily, his grip on your waist unrelenting. “And yet, you’re still here,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement as his hands flexed against your sides.

His words left you scrambling for control, but the way his hands moved—his thumbs brushing slow, lazy circles over your hips—was unraveling you with every passing second.

“You’re too cocky,” you managed to snap, though it came out breathier than you’d hoped.

“Too cocky?” he echoed, his brow quirking as his smirk deepened. He tilted his head, his lips barely grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. “No. Not cocky. Just confident. Because I know exactly what I’m doing.”

The heat of his breath against your skin made your knees buckle slightly, and your hands fisted into the fabric of his shirt to keep yourself steady. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you in a way that made your stomach flip.

“You don’t have to hide it,” he said, pulling back enough to meet your gaze, his eyes softer now but no less intense. “You’re not used to this, are you?”

Your silence was answer enough, and his smile softened, though the teasing glint in his eyes remained. “You’ve never let anyone get this close before, have you?”

You hesitated, your throat tight as you finally shook your head. “No,” you whispered. “I haven’t.”

His grip on your waist tightened slightly, grounding you. “Good,” he said, his voice dipping low as he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your temple in a surprisingly gentle kiss. “That means I get to be your first.”

The way he said it—possessive, certain—made your heart stutter. You looked up at him, a flush spreading across your face, and he grinned, his confidence as intoxicating as it was infuriating.

“You’ve got me,” he said, his gaze flicking to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “And I’ve got you. So let’s not pretend you don’t want me to solve that little problem of yours.”

Your breath caught as his gaze flicked pointedly to your legs before returning to your face, his smirk widening at the way you squirmed.

“Jongho,” you choked out, your face burning, but he only laughed again, his fingers curling into your waist as he pulled you closer.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice like velvet. “I’ve got all the time in the world. And I’m not going anywhere.”

The promise in his tone made your chest tighten, your nerves and anticipation tangling together into something you couldn’t quite name. Whatever was happening between you, one thing was clear—Jongho wasn’t about to let you run away from it. From him.

The air around you felt impossibly thick, every fiber of your being hyperaware of Jongho’s piercing gaze and the tantalizing weight of his hands on your waist. His question lingered between you, heavy with intent, and when you finally found your voice, it came out softer than you expected, almost a whisper.

“Your place,” you said, your cheeks burning at your own boldness.

Jongho’s grin widened, a mix of excitement and triumph flashing across his face. Without warning, his arms shifted, and he scooped you up with startling ease, your legs dangling as his strong grip supported your weight effortlessly.

“Jongho!” you squeaked, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to my place,” he said, his voice brimming with confidence and amusement. “You didn’t expect me to let you walk after saying something like that, did you?”

You gave him a halfhearted glare, though your lips betrayed you with a small smile. “I have legs, you know. Perfectly good ones.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk playful as he carried you toward his car. “Oh, I’m aware. But this is faster. Plus, I kind of like holding you like this.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, secretly enjoying the way his strong arms felt around you. He set you down only when he reached his car, opening the door for you with an exaggerated flourish.

“Your chariot awaits,” he teased.

You climbed in, shaking your head at his antics. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” he countered, flashing you a cheeky grin before closing the door and rounding the car to slide into the driver’s seat.

As he started the engine, the hum of the car barely masked the charged silence between you. Jongho’s right hand drifted to your thigh, his fingers splaying possessively over the fabric of your jeans. The touch was casual in a way that felt anything but casual, and the heat of his palm seared through the material, sending a shiver up your spine.

Your legs instinctively shifted, pressing together slightly, and Jongho let out a low chuckle, the sound warm and teasing.

“Something wrong?” he asked, his tone dripping with amusement.

“No,” you said quickly, though the way your voice wavered betrayed you.

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, clearly unconvinced. His thumb stroked a slow, deliberate circle against your thigh, and you bit your lip, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his touch affected you.

Your resolve faltered, however, when your gaze darted to his lap. Your breath caught at the sight: the unmistakable outline of his arousal straining against his sweatpants, a bold and unapologetic testament to the effect you had on him.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly averted your gaze, your face burning as you looked out the window.

Jongho caught your reaction immediately and laughed, the sound rich and full of self-assurance. “See something you like?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, crossing your arms and pointedly refusing to look at him.

“You’re adorable,” he said, his tone warm and teasing as he pulled into his apartment building’s parking garage.

When he parked the car and stepped out, he walked around to your side, opening the door for you with a mischievous grin. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be shy now.”

You rolled your eyes but let him help you out of the car, his hand lingering on your lower back as he guided you toward the elevator. The ride up was quiet but thick with anticipation, the air between you crackling with unspoken tension.

When the elevator doors opened to reveal his apartment, your breath caught. The space was sleek and modern, a small penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The warm glow of the ambient lighting cast a soft, inviting hue over the stylish furniture and minimalist decor.

“Wow,” you said softly, stepping inside as Jongho closed the door behind you.

“Like it?” he asked, his voice low and smooth as he leaned against the door, his eyes never leaving you.

“It’s… beautiful,” you admitted, your gaze sweeping over the space before returning to him.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he said, his tone teasing but with a sincerity that made your cheeks heat.

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could speak, Jongho took a step closer, his gaze darkening as he reached for you. His hands found your waist again, pulling you flush against him, and the intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch.

“Now,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands began to wander, “let’s pick up where we left off, shall we?”

Jongho’s fingers curled gently around your waist as he gazed down at you, the flickering tension between you growing heavier by the second. His lips quirked into a teasing smile, but his eyes were dark, brimming with intensity. Slowly, deliberately, he reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head, discarding it on the nearby couch.

The sight made your breath hitch. You’d seen him shirtless before—during practices, workouts, even casual moments at the beach—but this was different. Under the warm lighting of his apartment, with the weight of his gaze on you and the air thick with unspoken promises, it felt different. It felt intimate. The sharp lines of his abs, the broad planes of his chest, the faint sheen of his skin—all of it made your pulse quicken and your stomach flip.

You gulped audibly, your throat dry as you struggled to find something—anything—to say.

Jongho noticed immediately, his smirk deepening. “Like what you see?” he teased, stepping closer, his confidence radiating off him in waves.

You rolled your eyes, trying to regain some composure. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“And yet, you can’t stop staring,” he countered, his voice low and warm as he reached for you again.

You huffed, but your resolve crumbled when he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment before they drifted down, grazing the collar of your blouse. He hesitated, his dark eyes locking onto yours, silently asking for permission.

You nodded, barely able to muster the courage to meet his gaze.

Jongho’s hands moved with deliberate care, unbuttoning your blouse one piece at a time. The cool air brushed against your skin as the fabric fell away, leaving you standing there in nothing but your bra and jeans. His eyes traced every inch of you, his gaze appreciative but never lewd, and the weight of his attention made your skin burn.

“You’re stunning,” he said softly, his voice carrying none of the teasing from before.

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, mumbling, “Stop saying things like that.”

“I’m just telling the truth,” he replied, his hands moving to your waistband now. He paused again, waiting for your nod before he gently worked the denim down your legs, leaving you standing there in your underwear.

You felt vulnerable, exposed, but the way Jongho looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—chased away any lingering insecurities.

“Your turn,” you said, your voice shaking slightly as you gestured to his sweatpants.

He chuckled but obliged, hooking his thumbs into the waistband and sliding them down in one smooth motion. Your eyes darted down briefly, catching a glimpse of the tight fabric of his boxers and the unmistakable evidence of his arousal straining against them.

You quickly looked away, your face burning as you muttered, “Jongho!”

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence as he stepped closer, his smirk returning. “You told me to take them off.”

“You’re impossible,” you groaned, trying to cover your face, but Jongho caught your wrists gently, pulling your hands away.

“Don’t hide from me,” he said softly, his tone shifting again to something more tender. “Not now.”

Before you could respond, he bent slightly, hooking one arm under your legs and the other around your back.

“Jongho, no!” you protested, squirming as he lifted you effortlessly into his arms.

“Yes,” he said with a grin, holding you securely against his chest. “I like carrying you. You should just get used to it.”

You huffed, crossing your arms as he carried you toward his bedroom, though you couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips.

The bedroom was just as sleek and modern as the rest of his apartment, the neutral tones and soft lighting creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere. Jongho set you down gently on the edge of the bed, his hands lingering on your waist as he knelt slightly to meet your gaze.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and full of warmth.

You nodded, your heart racing as he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that promised so much more. The anticipation in the air was palpable, and for the first time, you felt ready to let go of your hesitation and trust him completely.

As he softly pushed you on your back and made you lay comfortably on the crisp, black linen, he leaned back and took in the sight.

Jongho's gaze lingered, a mix of admiration and unguarded desire as he took you in. His voice broke the charged silence, low and steady. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, the sincerity in his tone sending a warm flush across your skin.

Before you could find the words to respond, he moved, placing one knee on the bed beside you. His eyes flickered downward, catching the faint evidence of your arousal through the delicate fabric of your panties. A smirk curled at the corner of his lips, a combination of satisfaction and mischief playing on his face.

The boldness of his gaze sent a jolt of self-consciousness through you, and you instinctively brought your hands to cover yourself. “Don’t hide from me,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm as he gently pushed your hands aside.

Your breath hitched as his hands found your thighs, the warmth of his palms igniting your nerves. His touch was confident but patient, his fingers brushing over your skin in a way that left your mind spinning. When he tugged at your panties, you froze for a moment, caught between flustered shyness and the undeniable pull of trust and longing.

With one smooth motion, he slipped the fabric down, the cool air grazing your now bare skin. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, his expression a mixture of awe and restraint. “Perfect,” he whispered, more to himself than to you, and you felt your cheeks burn under the weight of his attention.

Your heart pounded as his gaze returned to yours, the intensity making you feel as though he could see every vulnerable thought running through your mind. “I’ve got you,” he reassured, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against your knee as his hands caressed the sensitive skin of your thighs.

Jongho’s lips were soft against your skin, each kiss deliberate and slow, as though he were savoring every moment. When his lips reached your inner thighs, he paused, lifting his gaze to meet yours, seeking your reassurance. There was a quiet confidence in his eyes, but also a deep tenderness, as if he were attuned to every subtle shift in your body.

"Everything okay? Want me to.. go on?" he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, the question hanging between you two.

You nodded, your heart racing, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. Without waiting for another word, his kisses deepened, trailing slowly toward your cunt. His lips moved with purpose, but not hurriedly—each press against your skin made your breath catch, your body shuddering in response. His hands glided up your thighs, fingers brushing with a tenderness that was almost too much to bear, yet every touch sent sparks through your entire being.

As his lips reached as close as possible to your folds, you couldn’t stop the way your body arched toward him, the quiet gasp escaping your lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, pulling him closer as though you couldn’t get enough of him, yet at the same time, you didn’t want him to rush.

Jongho didn’t hurry, though. His movements were measured, gentle but deliberate, as he worked his way deeper, tongue feeling and tasting every sweet spot of yours It made your pulse race. The weight of his attention—every brush of his tongue—was intoxicating, and the way his hands caressed your skin made you feel utterly consumed by the moment, the intensity building with every second.

Jongho’s hands gripped your hips gently but firmly, pulling you closer to him as his

lips and tongue deepened.

A soft moan escaped your lips, the heat building in your body as his motion of eating you out became more precise, more intentional. Every time he sucked on your clit, the pressure seemed to intensify, and your breath quickened, your body arching slightly, reacting to his touch in ways you hadn’t expected.

"Jongho..." you whispered, your voice a mixture of breathlessness and need, the feeling of his lips trailing against your skin making your belly tighten, your heart racing. "I-I’m close..."

His eyes flickered up at you, a silent reassurance in his gaze as he adjusted his position, his hands holding you closer still. He seemed to read the tension in your body, knowing exactly how to eat you out to push you further into the edge of your orgasm. You couldn’t contain the quiet gasps that escaped with every press of his lips against you.

The room felt charged, your body humming in tune with his, each movement from him sending you deeper into a state of blissful surrender. Your hands tightened against his shoulders, holding him close, as your body responded—heat pooling in your chest, your belly tightening, the anticipation growing within you.

Finally, your high washed over you, hard and overwhelming, a shudder running through you as you let go completely, a quiet whimper of satisfaction slipping past your lips. Jongho, his face still soft with the same tenderness, held you closely, as if to cradle you in that moment, his presence grounding you completely. His smile, slow and satisfied, told you that he, too, was content, savoring every second of the connection you shared.

Jongho’s fingers gently cupped your face, his gaze tender yet filled with a quiet intensity. He brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, his touch lingering on your skin, his eyes following the movement as if memorizing every detail of you.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, his voice a mix of awe and desire. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so perfect.”

He leaned in just enough to press a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as he breathed you in, savoring the feeling of being so close to you. His thumb traced along your jawline, the movement slow and deliberate, each touch sending a shiver of warmth through your body.

When he shifted slightly, his body hovering just above you, his hand went for his briefs, a small stain of precum visible on them. He took them off and then leaned against you. His chest brushed against yours, the contact enough to make your breath catch, a deep sense of longing and anticipation filling the space between you two.

Jongho looked down at you for a moment, his expression a mix of intensity and restraint. His hand gently cupped the back of your neck, and he whispered, his voice hushed but filled with raw emotion, “Are you sure you’re ready for this? We can take it slow if you need to.”

His gaze never left yours, his eyes soft with concern yet burning with a quiet intensity, as if seeking your reassurance before moving forward. You could feel the weight of his question hanging in the air, the tension between you thick and undeniable.

With a slight shift, he pulled back just enough to allow you a moment to decide. The room was thick with unspoken words, with trust and desire intertwining in a dance as old as time. Jongho’s hand rested gently on your hip, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your waist, as though waiting for your answer—waiting for you to lead him, or guide him, in this shared moment of intimacy.

You didn't have enough confidence to answer to him verbally, but as you lowered yourself on the bed under him, squirming impatiently, he took the hint. But still, he didn't to nothing yet.

“Say it. Use your words, sweetie” he tapped you on your knee.

“Y-yes.. p-please, Jongho..” you said, voice barely above a whisper and breathy. He took that as a yes and leaned in, right hand resting on your hips and left hand lazily stroking his own cock before guiding it to your hole. He looked up at you again then inserted the tip in, your back arching softly.

He started to softly thrust at first, testing the waters. When he felt and also saw you get accustomed to his size, he became a little bit faster and more focused, hands holding yours above your head. He leaned in and as he thrusted into you, he let his forehead rest against yours.

The tension in the air was electric, each of Jongho's movements sending ripples through you, pushing you closer to the edge. Your breaths came in quick, uneven gasps, each one punctuated by a soft whimper or moan that seemed to fuel him further. His hands stayed steady on yours, grounding you even as your body arched beneath him, seeking release.

“That's it,” Jongho murmured, his voice rich with approval, the corners of his lips curling into a small smile as he watched you. “Let me hear you. Don’t hold back.”

The heat inside you reached its peak, and with one more motion, the second orgasm, more powerful, more intense, crashed over you. Your body trembled as you caught your high, a cry spilling from your lips, louder than you expected, raw and unrestrained. Jongho didn’t falter, his steady hold on you keeping you tethered to the moment as your breaths turned into soft, trembling gasps.

“There you go,” he whispered, his tone low and soothing as he guided you through it, his fingers tightening slightly on your waist to ground you. “So beautiful like this, letting yourself feel everything. I’m so proud of you.”

Your body shivered as the aftershocks rippled through you, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support. But just as you began to relax into the warmth of the moment, Jongho leaned closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours. His voice was soft but tinged with a teasing edge.

“Sweetheart,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear, “I haven’t caught mine yet.” His words were both playful and filled with a quiet intensity that sent another shiver down your spine.

“Can you handle a little more for me?” he asked, his voice low and coaxing as his hands shifted to hold you firmly in place.

Your eyes widened slightly, your body still sensitive, but you nodded, unable to form the words. A soft, breathy sound escaped you as he began to move again, his pace slow but deliberate, the overstimulation making you whimper softly with each motion.

“You’re so good for me,” Jongho murmured, his voice full of quiet praise as he kept his steady rhythm, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race. “Just a little more, okay? You’re doing so well.”

The overstimulation had you trembling beneath him, your hands clutching at his arms as you whimpered, the sound half protest and half surrender. Jongho’s gaze never left you, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration as his pace quickened just enough to push himself closer to his high.

When he finally reached his orgasm, a low, satisfied groan rumbled from his chest, his grip on you tightening briefly before he stilled, his breaths coming in deep, steadying exhales. His hands loosened their hold, smoothing over your hips and waist in soothing strokes as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You were perfect,” he murmured, his voice warm and full of praise as he shifted slightly to let you rest more comfortably beneath him. “Thank you for trusting me. Are you okay?”

His hands cradled your face as he looked down at you, his expression soft and full of care, waiting for your response. Even in the aftermath, his priority was you—ensuring you felt safe, cherished, and wholly understood.

“Yes..” you answered his question, head dizzy and body tired from all the motion.

“Was I good enough to you?” he continued, lying besides you and holding you close.

“Oh Jongho.. of course” you smiled at him, your answer bringing a smirk of satisfaction on his face.

His smirk softened into something tender as he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek with a touch so light it felt like a whisper. The room was quiet now, the air warm and heavy with the comfort of shared intimacy. He drew you closer, tucking your head beneath his chin as his arms enveloped you, strong and steady.

“Rest now,” he murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby as he traced lazy circles along your back. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, its steady rhythm grounding you, anchoring you to the present moment.

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