#dark daddy kink but without the daddy bit

[oreo-creampies]

‘‘𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐧’ 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬!”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: demon!choso, choso goes into rut, overstimulation, dacryphilia, pain kink, anal/wrong hole (Gojo’s), pussy drunk, mind broken/dumbification, cervix fuckin, light size kink, hair pulling, spanking/some face slapping (mostly toji’s), biting, exhaustion, praise/degradation, begging/teasing, squirting, some thigh fucking, vibrating dildo, light bondage, on the verge of passing out (Choso’s), daddy(toji)/lil mama, gojo and toji are wearing ghostface masks (separate blurbs), ghostface!toji (with a morally gray reader), squirting

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨

“Please!” Choso digs his black painted nails into your hips. His eyes roll back as he tilts head back showing off his hickey cover neck. His broad shoulders curl in with a tremble as he sloppily rut his hips fucking his hot thick cum deeper.

Your sloppy cunt squelching and your thighs trembling. Digging your nails into his abs, you keep bouncing yourself on Choso’s fat dick. Feeling his thick veins pulse, his cock head lightly twitches and his moans are getting breathier.

Your cunt clenches his throbbing, sensitive cock when a guttural deep groan of “Fuuuuck lil mama!” slips past his lips.

He’s so damn hot with his flush pink cheeks and his messy dark hair. His smoldering dark brown eyes fixate on your beautiful cunt taking his cock.

Choso slides his large hands up your sides, flipping you over onto his dark bedsheets. Your head hits the pillow and he grabs the head board with one hand, hovering over you.

He fuckin’ smirks, it’s a little upturn of Choso’s soft lips that has you clenching his cock. “Just ‘cause I came doesn’t mean we have to stop right?” He grabs your thigh hooking your leg around his slim waist.

His thrusts are sloppy, slow and deep, a shutter runs down his spine making his hips falter. The wood in his hand creaks and his jaw drops with a low groan.

“Can’t think about anything other than how wet n’ warm you are.” Leaning in for a soft kiss, you wrap both legs around his waist and slip your fingers into his hair.

Your body feels so heavy from exhaustion but you don’t want him to stop. It feels too good to have his warm, heavy body pressing you into the mattress. Whilst his heavy cock fills up your sore, sensitive and soaking wet pussy.

Choso mummers, “You can handle a bit more can’t ya?” Picking up his pace, your body jolts, your cunt spams and your eyes water when his hard cock head hits your bruised cervix.

Seeing the tears Choso softens his thrusts, restraining himself. “I’ve been so rough on her haven’t I? You’ve been doing so well, please let me help you cum one more time, we can do this lil mama.” He begs as if you aren’t fucked too stupid to answer him back.

He pushes your leg by your side and leans back to admire how your soft cunt takes his thick, long cock. Your soft lips wrapping around him, so wet, soft, and slightly swollen. Your beautiful pussy is such a pretty color against the paleness of his cock.

There isn’t an aspect of your body, expression and voice Choso isn’t obsessed with.

Steadily stroking your soft clit with his large thumb. “You look so hot cumming on my cock, please cum one more time?” He lets the headboard go, sliding his large hand over your beautiful body, touching you gently whilst wrecking your pussy.

Grabbing his hard, thick bisceps and digging your nails in whilst crying his name. “Nnnn! Choooohh!” Soaking Choso’s thick cock, your warm thick cum soaks the bed.

Choso’s smoldering dark eyes widen, “Fuuck make a mess on my cock lil that. Fuck I wanna!” His body trembles as he fights not to fuck you harder.

It’s all you can muster to plea, “Harder!” Choso flips you over without sliding out, wrapping his arm around your waist whilst holding onto your hip. Choso lifts you off the bed, holding you to his chest and stroking your clit as he gets off the bed.

He gently reminds you, “Remember to use the safe word if it’s too much.” Holding you by your waist he slowly drags his cock out till his fat head is tugging on your soaking wet cunt.

Choso pulls you back to meet his hard thrusts. Your body jolts as you cry out reach back and grabbing his wrist. “I love how soft, beautiful, wet and warm you are. N’ I can't get enough of hearing you moan, seein’ my cock sink into your cunt, stretching her out.” Choso roughly bounces you on his thick, veiny cock.

He groans, “Your sloppy wet cunt is as loud as are, so messy n’ wet after squirting so hard on my cock. Nnn fuck I’ve missed you so much, not seeing you all day is torture.” He reaching so deep, you swear you’re feeling Choso’s long, thick cock underneath your belly button.

You’re fighting to string a full sentence together in between moans. “It was ooonn’nnn! On-ly seven girl’s houuures Nnn fuck you’re so deep! Fuck!” He presses your face and chest against the wall, keeping your back arches with a hand on your lower back.

Choso leans down groaning in your ear, “I love hearing your creamy cunt talk to me. I think she missed me just as much.” He bites your shoulder softly whilst roughly fucking your creamy cum stuffed cunt, Choso slides his large hand along your arched back grabbing a handful of your hair.

Squeezing your hip, “You look like doll, all fucked out and limp.” Clenching Choso’s cock when he most in your ear. “I know she so sore yet she grippin’ me like she wants me to cum in ya again even though you’ve cummed six times so far.” Your cheeks clap, your cunt squelches and your legs give out the wall and his grasp keeping you upright.

Lifting you off the wall, and turning you around with slipping his cock our. Laying you on your back on the soft bed, “One more time for the last grueling hour I spent alone, even then then I don't want to stop.” Choso folds you into a mating press to watch your sloppy wet cunt take his pale, thick, veiny cock.

Your soft lips look so beautiful covered in thick white cream, a mixture of his and your cum. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, hold on just a little more, I know you’re getting tired. I’ll hold you while you sleep after I cum in you.” Choso softly kisses your forehead.

“She’s getting so tight. I wonder could your sweet lil’ cunt can cum while you’re sleeping.” His eyes shift from violet to a glowing pink. “Fuck!” His body shutters with restraint as he fucks you faster but not harder. “I know you can only handle so much, I should stop soon but-“ your soft cunt spams squeezing Choso and wrecking his train of thought.

You slur together, “don’tstopwanna help-nnnn with yourrr rut.” Thick tears drip down your face as Choso whines, two teeth elongating into sharp fangs.

You tilt your head aside and he kisses your tears off your cheeks. “That’s it beautiful, let it out cry from cumming so hard on my cock.” teeth in. Sweet pain laces in with the intoxicating pleasure of his cock filling your sore, soaking wet cunt.

You can’t move on your own, your body is too heavy. Your eyes won’t say open. He quickly pulls away, licking the blood seeping from the bite. You shiver meekly as he slides his large warm hands down along your waist and hips, grabbing your thighs.

He lifts you off the bed without breaking his rough, quirk pace. You feel weightless in his grasp as he wraps his arm around your waist. Softly laying you in the center of the bed, with your head on a pillow.

Sweetly kissing your cheek, Choso groans, “I’m a nasty pervert, obsessed with your soft thighs, pretty tits and wet cunt. I wanna fuck more cum into you.”

The softness of the pillow beneath your head, the coziness of the bed and the exhaustion from taking Choso’s cock is too much. The last thing you feel is his warm cum as you pass out.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

“Nn! Wrong hole!” It’s too late Satoru is in your ass. It’s a strange but interesting feeling him slip out, tugging on your ass. It’s a mixture of pleasure and pain that you want to explore.

“Wait,” your body burns and you’re grateful you are facing the bed instead of him. “You can fuck my ass.” He roughly smacks your ass, squeezing your sore, jiggly cheek.

“Fuck that sounds so hot, say it again.” He crouches behind you and bites your ass. Slipping two slender fingers into your dripping wet cunt, slowly stroking your g-spot making your legs tremble.

Grabbing his sheets whilst pleading, “I wanna fuck my ass on your cock till I can’t move anymore! You can cum in my ass.” He pumps his fingers faster and groans letting your cheek go.

Satoru licks the imprint his teeth left. “Good lil’ slut.” Slipping his fingers out, you can hear him noisily sucking them clean. Pushing your hips back when he glides his tongue between your lips.

Satoru admits, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about cumming in you since I saw you. I’m not gonna wanna stop with your ass, your cunt is begging for it.” Roughly hitting your sore cheeks with his large palm.

Satoru digs his fingers into your juggling fat. “Hold you wrist behind your back for me to tie together.”

He walks off to get silk ribbon and a vibrator which he holds up to show you. “Something for your clit while I fuck your soft ass into a gapping cum filled mess.” Smirking at you, with his white hair slicked back, a few stands hanging in his blue eyes.

“Let’s get a little kinky.” He looks so beautiful standing there, slim yet muscular build is so well sculpted. You want you run your hands over all of him. But mostly you want his long, pretty cock that stands up eager for attention.

A smile creeps onto your face, “What about some knife play?” He walks over with the silk and toy, setting the latter on the bed. The silence is crushing, making you squirm slightly.

He leans over yo, talking low in your ear, “With the nasty warnings on the smut you read in public told me what type of pervert slut you are.” Tying your wrist behind your back.

“I always wondered if you touch yourself while reading, or if it’s like foreplay before you masturbate?” Biting your shoulderand pinning you still with some of his weight. It feels good to have Satoru’s massive body crushing you into the bed. With his soft warm skin and hard muscules against you.

Taking a moment before you can respond in a steady voice, “Depends on how much the fic makes my pussy throb.” Satoru pulls away to laugh, smacking your pussy, smirking when you jolt.

Satoru goes to get a ghost face mask and knife, “Speaking of fics, one gave me a new kink, I already wear a mask all day so why not switch out what I’m wearing.”

He wiggles the mask, “I remember this one was mentioned in a kinkobter fic. I like having a whole month dedicated to being the biggest whore you can be. That is what it is?” He slips the ghost face mask on.

You decide, “Close enough, please come play with my clit n ass! I wanna be a cock drunk whore, we’re talking too much.” He points the knife at you, wiggling it threateningly then he slips the ghostface mask on.

Grabbing a bottle of lube before walking up behind you. You can hear the bottle open and lube squirt out. Glance over your shoulder to watch Satoru touch himself. He softly ruts his his hips with a soft whine as he swirl his slender fingers over his gorgeous cock.

You didn’t think you could find a cock so damn sexy till you saw Satoru’s. With his soft pink cock head and intimidating length. You know his cock is going to be addicting the l way he could softly stretch and fill you up.

Spreading your legs apart he lines his cock up to give your asshole just the tip. Whilst carefully rubbing your clit with the cool flat of the blade. The scary thrill of the knife near somewhere so sensitive gets your cunt dripping.

He slowly drags the knife along your thigh, grabbing the toy. With a click it springs to life. Satoru glides another inch in as he holds the toy to your clit, swirling it slowly.

Softly rolling his hips giving your sensitive, tight ass more, crooning, “You can handle it, can’t you?” Your jaw drops and your brows furrow as your toes curl.

You unable to answer Satoru, “I-I nnnn! Innnahhh! Satoru!” the strange pleasure of having your ass fucked along with having your clit played with is too much to comprehend.

Crying, “My ass! You’re! Nnn!” Satoru really is fucking your ass! The first time with your long time crush and it’s there! He’s going to be able to cum in you. The second it crosses you’re mind it’s all you can whine.

You’re mindlessly confessing and begging, your eyes stinging. “Please cum in me! I wanna feel your warm cum! I touch myself thinking of what it would be like to feel your cock twitching inside me before you spill. Please!” You sloppy wet cunt is dripping thick creamy slick down to your cock stuffed ass.

Satoru’s low breathy groans are pornagraphic.“I jerked off this morning thinking about seein’ my cum drip out of your pretty cunt.” He swirls the knife around your soft nipple. “The way I want to slut you out, objectify you then treat you like a princess afterwards.”

Rubbing the toy on your clit faster as he goes balls deep. He slides the knife down your stomach, getting off on seeing you squirm. With your breasts pushed in the air by the soft arch in your back.

He groans at the sight of seeing his pale pink cockhead tugging on your asshole. So close to slipping out, rolling his hips, his abs flexing as he drives his cock in deep with a smooth, quick thrust.

Your ass is getting looser taking his cock easier as the tense leaves your body and you melt beneath him. With your eyes watering.

Satoru tosses the knife to the side to stuffs his two slender fingers in. “Keep looking at me like that beautiful n’ find out what happens. Shit, I’ll wash up come back and wreck your soft cunt, fill you up twice.” He curls his fingers, fucking your softly squelching cunt.

Clenching his fingers when he finds that spot that has a overwhelming wave of intense pleasure overcomes you. Making your thighs tremble and your hips jerk back.

Satoru leans down, taking up most of your vision with his ghost face mask and his wide shoulders. “Cum, you can do it, focus on my fingers in your cunt, my cock in your ass and your toy on your clit.” Tears trickle down your face as you squirt on his fingers. Your soft cunt spams, as Satoru keeps his pace and fucks your ass harder.

The way Satoru growls, “Fuck me!” Shouldn’t be so hot in how feral, possessive and needy he sounds. “That it lil mama cry cause I made you squirt too hard, make a fuckin mess and scream my name. Nnnn keep looking at me like that and see what happens.”

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

“I thought no one was home, I only meant to crash on your sofa then dip before sunrise.” Leaning over you, with his large gloved hand splayed on the wall next to you. “You’re not my normal type.” Holding the knife to your cheek.

Your voice trembles, “I know your victim type, I’ve been following along. I-I don’t blame you, what came out about everyone’s whose houses and laptops they’ve searched, is horrific.” You’re tense with anticipation. “There is a guest room, and left over food in the fridge, you can use my shower I’ll stay in the living room.”

“Ha, so you see it my way, they deserved it.” He softly drags the knife along your neck, leaning down invading what little personal space you have left. He’s so close, smelling of thick cigarette smoke and copper.

Glancing from his blood splattered ghost mask, to his large chest, his worn black shirt clinging to his pecs and abs. “Is there anything else you need?” A dark happy trail peaking out the bottom of his shirt catches your attention along with what it leads too. He’s shamelessly hard, his black sweats hiding nothing.

He drags the knife up your neck to your chin, tilting your head up to look at his face. “Depends does that offer have anything to do with the way you’ve been looking at me? If it does ...” He steps back to lean against the back of your sofa. He gestures up and down your body with his knife.

Ordering you. “Take your shirt off, your sexy underwear stays on.” Slipping your shirt and underwear off, he points down at the ground with the knife causing you to kneel at his feet.

Nudging your legs around with his boot, “Hands behind your back, use your hands and I’ll smack you across the face.” Softly dragging the knife along your bottom lip. “Such a pretty mouth, that little tremble in your bottom lip when you’re scared is hot.”

He holds the knife to your throat. “Do I scare you still?”He pushes his sweatpants down, letting his heavy cock hang out. He’s so thick, with two puffy veins and a fat cockhead wet with pre-cum.

“Yes, you could change your mind out of worry of getting caught but I’m too horny to think too logically.” His balls are big and look so damn suckable, looking up at his masked face. “I want you to fuck me like I’mma a slut.” He slips his boot in between your legs, and you cave instantly grinding your clothed cunt on his shoe.

Lifting his shoe adding some pressure to your cunt. “Like?! You’re nothing but a slut, grinding on me you’re no different than a bitch in heat. I’ll stuff your needy cunt n’ depending on how well ya take my cock, you might be mine be my new play thing.”

Setting the knife next to himself, and grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Please I’m so wet cause of you, fold me in two, I don’t care if I walk tomorrow.” He groans grabbing his cock with a gloved hand, lining it up with your parting lips. Gliding his cock in your warm with mouth with a husky groan.

“Fuck this is hot, seeing you hump my boot while I'm fuckin your throat.” His balls hit your chin with each quick, gagging thrust. Whilst his firm grasp on your hair keeps you from moving your head. “For being a honest whore for I’ll make sure you cum.”

Cupping his large balls he pulls his cock out and slaps you. Straightening your face out with your hair. “I warned you, but that did feel nice touch my balls again.” Holding his balls while grinding your hips, rubbing your clit along the smooth leather.

You quickly plead, “Slap me again please.” He softly rubs your sore cheek then lands another sharp, stinging hit. You wince and moan, squeezing his shoe with your thighs.

Mocking you, “Slap me again please! You’re killing me.” Tilting his head to the side, the simple action with his mask on shouldn't turn you on so much.

He roughly pulls your hair and orders, “Keep begging me to hurt and fuck you.”

Stroking his cock next to your face whilst you beg, “Smack my ass till it’s too sore for me to lay on. Please daddy fuck me however you need to.” Pulling you onto your feet by your hair, shoving you over the back of the sofa.

Demanding, “You’re thinking with your pussy aren't you? What am I?” He smacks your clothed cunt with the flat of the blade making you jolt. Hitting your cunt harder with his gloved hand. “Tell me before I stop and go jerk off in the shower.” Slowly dragging the knife along your soft lips. You have to fight every urge to move so the knife doesn't slip.

“Daddy!” Crying as he quickly cuts the back of your thighs, so close to your cunt. Smacking your both cheeks before cutting off your underwear.

Moaning out, “Please lemme have your cock daddy.” Wiggling as he drags the knife along your soft cheek, blood seeping from the shallow cut. His covk throbs with the way you cry and writhe, the sofa and his body trapping you.

Smacking your stinging cheek, you can hear the cocky smirk in his voice. “You need me that badly lil’ mama?��� Gliding his wet cock in-between your soft thighs.

Yanking your head back by your hair and leaning over you. “Fucking hell you’re a dirty slut wanting to be fucked by a stranger. Am I that hot, or are you that big of a whore?” His cock rubs yours lips and clit taunting you.

You’re clenching nothing in desperate need to have his fat cock filling, stretching and rubbing your cunt till you cum on him. “I can feel her fluttering, squeezing nothin’ when you could be squeezing my cock.”

Your head is against his chest, his so big. You didn't know his name and haven’t see but it doesn't matter. You want him to bounce you on his cock.

Begging him, “Yes please daddy, I’ll call you whatever you want! You can stop by and use my cunt whenever you want. I need to cum on your big cock.” Squeezing your thighs together and whining in fustration

He lets your hair go to smack your cunt till your desperately twisting your hips away. Crying, your body shutters and your cunt is sharply stinging.

You whine, “You’re so mean!” Your eyes are stinging and his hands are so rough when he grasp your hips. He yanks you into place and lines his cock up, nudging his cock past your lips. Roughly slamming his hips forward whilst yanking your body back.

He rasps, “It’s making you wetter isn’t it?” Choking you with a gloved hand and squeezing your hip. Lifting your off your feet, he’s holding you in the air by your throat and hip, effectively ruining any attempts to run away.

Rhythmically bounce you on his cock, using your pussy like a flesh light. Whilst angrily rutting his hips. It’s like he’s mad at you even though he’s the one who broke into your house.

You’re a dirty slut who folded at the first sight of his broad muscular chest and slutty waist in the clingiest black shirt you’ve ever see. Clenching his cock and biting your bottom lip. It feels good to be a mindless whore if this is what it gets you.

Digging your nails into the sofa when he croons, “What this? You were just begging for me to fuck you. Don’t tell me your lil’ sloppy cunt can’t handle my fat cock?” He relaxes his grasp but ruts into you hard, pouring his frustration into each thrust.

“I can! Fuck me however you want! I don’t care how angry it feels!” He lifts you off the sofa, grabbing your thighs, folding your legs and clasping his large hands behind the back of your neck.

“Angry? I suppose I am n’ it’s fun taking it out on your sloppy cunt. I’m reaching so fuckin deep, you can feel that can’t ya?” He rocks his hips harder bruising your cervix and making your pussy spasm from the intensity.

You can’t think with the way he’s fucking you like he hates you, bullying your sloppy cunt. All you can do is cream on his fat cock. He sneers “Really? You’re cumming that fuckin’ easily?” Your cheeks along with your throat burn.

Unclasping his hand from behind your neck, squeezing your thigh and stroking your clit. “Too stupid to answer already? N’ I just started.” Each stroke from his finger is too much, sending off a firework of intense overstimulating pleasure.

Fat tears roll down your cheek as you babble, “Too much! Toooooo much daddys’ cock ‘s too much! My clit I can’t! I wanna! Don’t stop!” It’s like you can’t come down from the incredible high of cumming.

He grunts, “There we fuckin’ go! Don’t want ya to get all shy n’ quiet on me now after you were humping my boot.” Stroking your clit faster, keeping the pressure the same. “Let’s see how many times I can make you cum in one night before you can’t anymore.”

Oreo’s m.list

[enhaflixer]

enhypen x f!reader - breeding kink + overstim

ENHA HARD HOURS 18+ MDNI okay so there is cockwarming, belly bulging, lots of dirty talk, and a bit of a lactation kink in sunghoons one and a daddy kink in jakes i think maybe sunghoon and jungwon take the cake for making me drip on this one honestly idek what i was thinking writing this one it was brain empty hands typing.

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞��𝐧𝐠

Heeseung has been on edge all fucking evening.

It starts at dinner—his eyes glued to you the entire time, watching the way your sundress flutters around your thighs, the way you shift in your seat, completely oblivious to how wrecked he already is.

Then at home—the way you walk around the apartment, still wearing that same pretty little dress, still teasing him without even trying.

And now?

Now, you’re bent over to pick something up off the floor, the hem of your sundress lifting just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of soft, bare skin.

And Heeseung snaps.

His hands are on you before you even realize he’s moved—gripping your hips, grinding his cock against your ass, letting out a deep, breathy groan that’s been building inside him all fucking day.

“Fuck, angel,” he hisses, his breath hot against your ear, his fingers gripping tight, keeping you in place. “You have any idea what you’ve been doing to me?”

You gasp, startled, hands clutching at the dresser in front of you for balance.

“Hee—”

“Walking around all day in this little dress,” he murmurs, one hand sliding down your stomach, dipping between your thighs, fingers grazing the soft skin just above your knee. “So short, angel. Barely covering anything. Did you wear this for me? Hm? You trying to make me lose my fucking mind?”

You feel his cock pressing against you, already so hard, already straining against his sweats.

And then—just to tease you, just to hear you whimper.

His fingers inch higher, slipping beneath the hem of your dress, tracing lazy circles up the inside of your thigh.

You shiver, biting your lip, trying to ignore the way your breath shakes beneath his touch.

“Ah, angel,” he breathes, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his fingers curling around the fabric of your dress, slowly, teasingly bunching it up.

Then, voice drenched in something dark, something hungry, something desperate.

“Bend over for me. Right now.”

You do.

Because how could you not?

Your body melts into his touch, your hands gripping the dresser, your back arching slightly as heeseung pushes your dress up around your waist.

And when he sees you like this—your ass bare, your thighs trembling, your slick already coating your inner thighs from how badly you’ve wanted him all day—

He groans, low and deep, head dropping to your shoulder.

“Jesus, baby—”

Then, in one slow, deep movement,

He slides his cock inside you.

You gasp, your body tensing, your fingers gripping the dresser so hard your knuckles turn white.

Because he’s so fucking deep.

Because he doesn’t ease into it.

Because he fills you up all at once, burying himself inside you in one smooth, deliberate thrust, stretching you open, pressing so deep you swear you feel him in your stomach.

Heeseung?

He moans.

Loud. Breathy. Wrecked.

His fingers dig into your hips, his chest heaving, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he breathes through the feeling of being so deep inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice shaking, his hands sliding up your back, keeping you pressed firmly against the dresser.

“You’re already sucking me in, angel. You want this that bad? Hm? Want me to fuck you stupid?”

You whimper, nodding desperately, already too lost in the pleasure to answer properly.

That’s all he needs.

Heeseung grins, voice dripping with filth, his hips snapping against yours as he starts fucking into you—deep, slow, grinding thrusts, pressing his cock as far inside as he can go.

His hands slide under your dress, gripping your tits, squeezing, rolling your sensitive nipples between his fingers, making you moan louder, making your body arch for him.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” he breathes, his lips dragging over your shoulder, biting down lightly. “Made for me. Made to take my cum. Gonna breed you, angel. Gonna fill you up so good you won’t need this dress anymore—gonna have my cum dripping down your thighs instead.”

When you clench around him at his words, Heeseung gasps, his pace stuttering, his fingers flexing against your skin.

“Shit—you like that, angel? Like when I talk about stuffing you full?”

He lets out a deep, filthy groan, his hips snapping faster, thrusting into you rougher, his breath ragged against your neck.

And then—his hand slides down, pressing against the bulge in your stomach, feeling the way his cock fills you up.

“Feel that?” His voice is low, husky, wrecked. “That’s me, angel. That’s where I’m gonna fucking fill you up.”

And then—as his thrusts turn erratic, as his breath catches, as his entire body tenses against yours.

He spills inside you.

His moans turn into soft, shaky gasps, his fingers dig into your hips, pressing you back onto him, making sure you take all of it.

And when he finally comes down, when his breath slows, when his forehead rests against the back of your neck,

He still doesn’t move.

He stays there, still deep inside you, still keeping his cum tucked inside where it belongs.

And then, so soft, so teasing, so unbearably filthy,

“Better not let a drop go to waste, angel. That dress was short enough already.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉����𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

You’ve been bothering him all week.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

You did it in the kitchen— wrapping your arms around him from behind while he cooked, pressing your cheek to his back, whispering, “Baby, don’t you wanna give me a baby? One with your pretty eyes and my smile?”

You did it on the couch— climbing into his lap while he was watching TV, grinding against his cock through his sweats, murmuring against his lips, “Isn’t that what good husbands do? They give their wife whatever she wants?”

You did it in bed— naked, stretched out on top of him, licking the shell of his ear, dragging your fingers down his stomach, pressing soft, teasing kisses along his jaw.

“Fuck me full, Jay. Please, please, please—right now, right now, right now.”

Jay had been so fucking patient.

Just smiling, shaking his head, gripping your waist and kissing you deep, groaning as he held back.

But now?

Now, you’re doing it again—laying in bed, tangled up in his arms, whispering filth in his ear like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing to him.

“Please, baby,” your voice is sweet, breathy, teasing, your fingers trailing down his chest, your nails scraping lightly at his abs. “Please fill me up. I want you to make me a mommy, Jay. I want you to fuck me so deep that it sticks, want you to pump me so full of your cum I can’t even think, wanna be so full I can feel it dripping down my thighs—”

And Jay snaps.

One second, he’s laying there, listening, gritting his teeth, gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles turn white.

The next—he has you flipped onto your stomach, pinned beneath him, his hands grabbing at your hips, yanking them up, shoving a pillow under you, spreading you open for him.

His chest is rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths, his jaw clenched tight, his voice low and wrecked and dangerously strained.

“You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You whimper, breath catching, fingers clutching at the pillow.

“Nope.”

And then you wiggle your hips back against him, your soaked cunt pressing against his rock-hard cock, teasing, taunting.

Jay loses it.

His hand flies to the back of your neck, pressing you down into the mattress, holding you there as he grinds against you, slow, deliberate, letting you feel exactly how hard you’ve made him.

His voice is low, dark, dripping with something dangerous.

“You’ve been begging for it all fucking week,” he murmurs, dragging the head of his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. “You want me to fuck a baby into you that bad, sweetheart?”

You whimper, pressing your ass back against him, nodding frantically.

“Yes—yes, please, Jay.”

And then—without another word, without another second of teasing.

Jay slams into you in one deep, brutal thrust.

You scream.

Your entire body jerks, your fingers claw at the pillow, your eyes go wide as he stretches you open, stuffing you full in one smooth motion, pressing so deep you swear you can feel him in your fucking throat.

Jay moans.

Loud. Deep. Wrecked.

His fingers dig into your hips, his head dropping forward, his chest pressing against your back, his breath shaky and hot against your ear.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice raw, his grip tightening. “You’re so fucking tight—”

And then he pulls back—just a little,

Before he fucks you.

Hard.

His pace is brutal, unforgiving, every snap of his hips forcing sharp little gasps from your throat, making your body jerk up against him, making you completely fucking helpless beneath him.

“You begged for this, baby,” he pants, his hand slipping under your stomach, pressing against the bulge in your belly, feeling himself inside you. “Begged for me to fuck you stupid, begged for me to breed you—so take it.”

You whimper, moaning brokenly, eyes rolling back as he fucks into you harder, deeper, rougher.

And when you start shaking, when your walls clamp down around him so tight he nearly fucking chokes.

Jay groans, wrecked and desperate, his cock twitching inside you.

His hand slides up, presses down against your stomach again.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasps, pressing harder, his voice shaking. “You’re gonna feel me inside you for fucking days.”

You whimper, body trembling, legs shaking, pleasure ripping through your body so intensely you feel like you might break.

And Jay?

Jay laughs, breathless, teasing, completely obsessed with the way you’re falling apart under him.

“Oh, baby,” his voice is soft now, gentle, dripping with something possessive and tender and absolutely filthy.

“You’re gonna look so fucking pretty carrying my baby.”

And then, with one final, deep thrust, pressing as far inside you as he can go,

He spills inside you.

His moans turn into soft, broken little gasps, his hips still rolling, still grinding, still fucking his cum deep inside you, making sure you take all of it.

But he doesn’t stop.

Because when he feels the way your walls flutter around him, still so tight, still so warm, still sucking him in,

He groans, his hands gripping your waist, keeping you in place.

“Oh, no, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice soft, teasing, completely fucked-out.

Then he pulls back and slams into you again.

“You wanted me to fuck a baby into you, didn’t you?” His voice is wrecked, strained, dripping with lust. “So let me make sure it fucking sticks.”

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

Jake has been suffering.

For months.

Maybe even longer.

The obsession started out innocent enough—little thoughts, little fantasies. At first, it was just an idea that curled up inside his brain whenever he looked at you. You, swollen with his baby, glowing, carrying the life he put inside you.

Then, it got worse.

It became a need.

A deep, aching, primal fucking need.

It was in the way he touched you—his hands sliding down to press warm and firm over your lower belly whenever he pulled you against him at night. The way his lips would linger there, soft and reverent, before murmuring “Wouldn’t it be nice, baby?” against your skin.

It was in the way he looked at you—his brown eyes dark and full of something dangerous, something obsessed, something close to unraveling every time you wore one of those tiny little dresses that clung to your body just right.

It was in the way he spoke to you.

Whispered things in public, just loud enough for you to hear.

“You’d be such a pretty mommy, you know that? I’d take such good care of you.”

“Bet you’d look so fucking good carrying my baby. All full of me, round and soft, showing everyone who you belong to.”

“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? Let me put a baby in you, fill you up just right, pump you so full you couldn’t even think about anything else.”

You just laughed.

Ruffled his hair, kissed him deep, tugged him by the belt into the bedroom but never let him finish inside.

Always made him pull out.

Always left him aching, desperate, completely wrecked.

Tonight, you’re done making him wait.

So you plan it.

You wait for him in bed—the room bathed in warm, flickering candlelight, wearing the tiniest, most delicate nightgown you own.

Wine red.

Thin straps barely clinging to your shoulders, the silk soft and sheer, dipping so dangerously low over your chest that your nipples are just barely hidden beneath the lace trim. The hem short enough that it barely covers the curve of your ass.

Your nails are painted the same deep shade, your toes, your lips—all matching, all designed to drive him insane.

And when Jake walks in—tie loosened, dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, hair already messy from running his fingers through it all day.

He stops in his tracks.

Dead fucking silent.

Like his brain just short-circuited.

His eyes drag over every inch of you,from the curve of your thighs, to the lace hanging off your skin, to the way you spread your legs just a little, dragging your fingers up your own thigh like you’re already waiting for him.

And then?

Then, you say the words.

“I stopped taking my birth control.”

Jake physically shudders.

Like a full-body tremor, a violent, wrecked little reaction, his hands clenching into fists, his pupils dilating so fast you swear you see them blow out completely black.

“What?” His voice is already wrecked, already hoarse, already breaking.

You tilt your head, smiling slow, lazy, teasing.

“I stopped taking my birth control, daddy.”

Jake fucking whimpers.

The sound that leaves his mouth is pathetic.

Absolutely wrecked.

His knees actually buckle, his hips twitch forward, his breath leaves him in sharp, ragged gasps like he’s already about to come just from hearing those words.

“Oh my fucking God—baby, please, please.”

He’s on you in seconds.

No hesitation.

His hands are all over you, grabbing at you, pulling you into his lap, grinding against you so hard it’s almost bruising. His mouth is everywhere,your neck, your collarbones, your chest, his breath shaking against your skin as he gasps against your lips.

“Say it again.” His voice is low, rough, dangerous. “Say it again, baby, tell me I can finally fucking breed you.”

You lick into his mouth, slow and teasing, dragging your fingers through his curls, gripping the back of his neck, whispering the words right against his lips.

“I stopped taking my birth control, daddy. Breed me. Fuck a baby into me.”

And Jake fucking breaks.

His hips buck up into yours so hard you feel his cock throbbing through his pants, his moan coming out high and whiny, completely fucking gone.

“Oh, f-fuck, oh my God, baby.”

His fingers fly to his belt, unbuckling it so fast that he nearly fumbles, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

When he finally gets his cock free, when he presses the leaking tip against your folds, dragging it through your slick.

His whole body shudders.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dripping.” His voice breaks. “All for me? Huh? All for daddy’s cock?”

You whimper, shifting against him, rubbing yourself over his length, making him suck in a sharp, ragged breath.

“Fuck, baby, you’re already making a mess. You want it that bad, huh? Want me to pump you so full you’ll be dripping for days—”

And before you can even answer—before you can even fucking breathe, Jake slams into you.

Hard. Fast. Deep. Brutal.

You scream.

Your back arches, your hands claw at his shoulders, your body trembles from the sudden stretch, the overwhelming fullness.

And Jake?

Jake moans.

Loud. Choked. Completely fucking destroyed.

“Oh my God, baby—fuck!”

His hips jerk, his fingers digging into your waist, his forehead pressing against yours as he gasps for air.

And then he starts moving.

Fast.

Rough.

Completely feral.

“Gonna breed you, baby,” he pants, his voice cracking, shaking. “Gonna fill you up so fucking deep you’ll feel it for weeks—”

“Gonna fuck you till you can’t even stand, keep stuffing you with my cum until you can’t take anymore,”

And when you whimper, when your walls flutter around him, when your body shakes with the force of how deep he’s fucking you.

Jake snaps.

His hips stutter, his hands tremble, his moans turn into wrecked little whimpers.

“Oh, f-fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna fucking come, baby, take it, take all of it,”

And then, with one final, deep, messy thrust, pressing as far inside you as he can,

He spills inside you.

And it doesn’t stop.

Jake is still moaning, still rutting into you, still grinding his cock as deep as it’ll go, his breath shaky, his whimpers high and needy as he fucks his cum deeper.

And then—his voice, soft, trembling, completely wrecked. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop, baby. Hope you meant it.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 (beware)

Sunghoon always pulls out.

Even when he’s panting against your skin, moaning your name, fucking you so deep and slow that you can feel every inch of him drag along your walls—he never lets himself go completely.

Even now, with you clenching around him, nails scratching down his back, his glasses fogging up from how deep he’s breathing, you know he’s still planning to pull out at the last second.

That’s why you decide to ruin him.

You drag your hands up his back, pulling him closer, pressing your lips to his ear, whispering sweet and filthy.

“Cum inside me.”

Sunghoon’s entire body locks up.

His hips stutter, his breath catches, his hands dig into your waist, holding you so tight you know you’ll have bruises tomorrow.

His voice comes out wrecked, hoarse, completely caught off guard.

“W-what?”

You tilt your head, letting your lips drag along his jaw, teasing, soft, sinful.

“I want you to cum inside me, baby. Fill me up. Give me everything.”

His eyes snap down to your tits immediately.

They’re bouncing every time he thrusts, slick and glistening with sweat, nipples hard and begging for his mouth.

Just like you knew he would,

Sunghoon loses it.

He grabs at them immediately, groaning as his fingers dig into the soft flesh, squeezing, kneading, pushing them together, watching how they spill through the gaps in his hands.

“F-fuck,” he chokes out, palming them roughly, sucking in a sharp breath. “You look so fucking good, baby. So soft,”

His head dips instantly, latching onto one of your nipples without hesitation.

The second his warm tongue flicks against the sensitive peak, you let out a soft moan, arching into his mouth, letting him bury his face between them.

“You love sucking on them, don’t you?” you murmur, fingers tugging his hair, keeping him there. “Bet you’ll love them even more when they’re bigger.”

He groans into your skin, sucking harder, tongue swirling, lips wet and messy.

“Bigger?” His voice is breathless, muffled against your tits, moaning between every word.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, raking your nails down his back, gasping when he nips at you. “They’re gonna get huge when you put a baby in me, Hoonie. Heavy. Sensitive. So full.”

Sunghoon whimpers.

Actually fucking whimpers.

His hips jerk forward on instinct, thrusting into you deeper, his breath getting shakier, more uneven, more desperate.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” you purr, rolling your hips against him, watching the way his brows furrow, the way his jaw clenches, the way he moans around your nipple. “Watching them get bigger just for you. All full with milk, leaking—”

Sunghoon gasps, moans so deep it vibrates against your skin, sucking harder, needier, sloppier.

“Fuck.” he chokes out, switching to your other nipple, latching on immediately, sucking so hard you swear you feel his tongue everywhere.

“You’d drink it for me, wouldn’t you, baby?” you whisper, watching the way his cock twitches inside you. “When they’re too heavy, when they ache, you’d help me, right? Suck it all out? Just like you’re doing now?”

His hips snap forward so hard you cry out.

His grip on your tits turns bruising, his moans completely fucked, completely broken, completely desperate.

“Oh my fucking God,” he gasps, pulling back just to stare at them, glossy with his spit, flushed and swollen. “You’re trying to fucking kill me,”

You laugh softly, dragging your fingers through his damp hair.

“Not my fault you get so horny for my tits, baby. Just imagine how they’ll look when you fuck a baby into me.”

Sunghoon lets out a wrecked, desperate groan, his eyes glued to your chest, hips moving faster, harder, deeper, his forehead pressing against your shoulder.

“You really fucking want it?” His voice is shaky, breathless, barely even there. “You want me to breed you, baby? Fill you up?”

“Yes, Hoonie,” you whimper, moaning his name, pulling him closer. “Want you to fuck me so full I start leaking. Want you to suck it out when it’s too much. Want you to make sure I stay full of your cum every single fucking night–”

Sunghoon snaps.

His hips slam into you harder, his moans turning high, breathless, broken.

“Oh my God, oh my God—I’m gonna fucking cum!”

His cock twitches, his entire body tenses, and then he’s spilling inside you, deep, hot, thick, endless.

His moans turn into soft, gasping whimpers, his hands trembling against your chest, still cupping your tits, still squeezing, still sucking softly at your flushed, sensitive skin.

You whisper in his ear, wrecked, sweet, teasing.

“You’re still sucking on them, baby,” you murmur, dragging your nails up his spine, making him shudder.

His hips twitch, still pressing into you, still rocking his cum deeper inside you.

“You wanna go again?” you whisper, breathless, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “We still need to make sure it doesn't leak.”

Sunghoon lets out a wrecked, broken moan, his cock already getting hard again.“Fuck—we’re not stopping.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨

Sunoo has been glowing all week.

Ever since you both agreed to start trying for a baby, he’s been softer, more affectionate, more eager to touch you at any given moment. His hands wander constantly—over your stomach, your waist, the dip of your spine, up under your shirt when he thinks you aren’t paying attention. Every night, he holds you just a little tighter, whispers just a little sweeter, kisses you just a little longer.

Tonight, he’s above you, warm and solid, his lips trailing soft, lingering kisses over your cheek, your jaw, the curve of your shoulder. His hips move slow, deep, rocking into you like he’s savoring every second.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, breath warm against your skin. “Still can’t believe we’re really doing this.”

Your arms wrap around his back, fingers dragging over the smooth expanse of skin. His body shivers beneath your touch, his breath hitching as his rhythm falters for just a second.

“It’s real,” you whisper, pressing your lips against his temple. “You’re gonna fill me up so well, baby.”

A soft moan spills from his lips, a quiet little gasp that has you clenching around him. His hands tighten against your waist, gripping you like you might disappear.

“You really want that?” His voice shakes slightly, like he’s holding himself back.

You nod, brushing your lips against his ear. “Want all of you, Sunoo. Want you to give me everything.”

His movements grow more deliberate, more fluid, more desperate. His forehead presses against yours, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a shaky breath.

“You’re gonna be so pretty carrying my baby,” he whispers. “So full, so soft. I’ll take care of you, you know that, right?”

Your heart clenches, warmth blooming through your chest. You kiss him, slow and deep, letting him feel just how much you want this, how much you want him.

His pace quickens. He’s always been so careful, so sweet, but this is different. He’s lost in you, breath ragged, fingers flexing against your skin. Every thrust has him sinking deeper, pressing harder, like he’s trying to mark you from the inside out.

“I can’t stop,” he gasps, voice trembling, lips brushing over yours with every desperate exhale. “You feel too good, baby. I need—”

His voice breaks into a soft moan, the words fading into nothing as he presses deeper, holding you tight, completely and utterly lost.

Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him buried inside you. He shudders when he feels it, his whole body tensing, his hips stuttering against yours.

“Give it to me, baby,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Make me full.”

Sunoo chokes on a breath, his moan turning into something high and sweet, completely wrecked. His hands tremble as he grips your thighs, pressing himself as deep as he can. His hips stutter, then still.

Warmth spreads through you as he spills inside, filling you up just like he promised.

But when you shift beneath him, when your walls flutter around him just right, he lets out a soft, helpless little whimper.

His cock twitches. His fingers dig into your skin.

“You’re still hard, baby,” you murmur, brushing your nose against his. “You wanna keep going?”

A small, breathless gasp leaves his lips, his body trembling above you.

“You feel so good,” he whispers. “I don’t think I can stop.”

He shifts slightly, hips pressing forward again, sinking deeper, still so sensitive, still shivering from his last orgasm. A soft, gasping moan spills from his lips, his fingers curling around your waist.

“You said you wanted everything,” he breathes, voice shaking, forehead pressing against yours.

His hips roll forward, slow but insistent.

“Let me give it to you.”

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧 (BEWAREEEE)

Jungwon was trying to get some work done.

But no—you were being a spoiled little brat, sitting in his lap, cockwarming him like it was nothing, wiggling every few minutes, sighing dramatically while he pretended to ignore the way your walls squeezed around him every single time you shifted.

He tried.

Tried so hard to keep his focus, to type, to pretend that he wasn’t throbbing inside you, to act like he wasn’t just barely holding it together, until you spread your legs.

Until you dragged one of his busy hands off his keyboard, guided it down between your thighs, pressed his fingers against your swollen, needy clit.

His entire body tensed, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt, his fingers twitching against your heat.

“Baby.” His voice was low, warning, already strained. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You leaned in, lips brushing against his ear, breath hot, desperate, completely ruining him.

“Jungwon, please,” you whined, shifting slightly, feeling his cock press even deeper inside you. “Just give me a baby.”

His fingers tightened on your waist, his breath came out in a slow, sharp exhale, and his laptop screen went black as he slammed it shut.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, gripping your hips, pulling you down fully onto him, forcing a gasping moan from your lips.

But you didn’t care.

Didn’t care that he was fed up, that his patience had snapped, that he was trying so hard to stay in control.

Because your brain had already turned to mush, because you were so full, so stretched, so perfectly stuffed with his cock that you could feel him pushing against the walls of your stomach.

You wanted more.

“I wanna get pregnant again as soon as I give you one baby,” you gasped, your fingers trailing down your stomach, pressing against the bulge that was forming there, where his cock was stretching you open so perfectly.

Jungwon’s eyes snapped down to where your hand rested over your belly.

His cock twitched inside you, hard, needy, responding to every single word that fell from your mouth.

“You’re already stuffed full of me, and you’re still talking?” he growled, rolling his hips forward, sharp, deep, making you whimper.

But you wouldn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

Didn’t want to stop.

“I wanna be pregnant all the time,” you babbled, completely gone, rocking yourself onto him, feeling every inch drag along your sensitive walls. “I wanna push out quadruplets just so you can fuck me full again right after. Wanna—wanna be dripping with your cum all the time, Jungwon, wanna be permanently wet for you, wanna plug myself up with your cock so none of it leaks out—”

Jungwon sucked in a sharp breath, groaning deep in his chest, pressing his forehead against your shoulder as he gritted his teeth.

“You don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

You shook your head, whining, rolling your hips, your own hand slipping between your legs, pressing against your clit, rubbing messy little circles as you shuddered.

“Won’t stop,” you gasped, tilting your head to whisper against his jaw. “Not until you fuck me hard enough that you push your cum in so deep I'm sticky inside. Not until I’m so full I start leaking just from walking. Not until I have no choice but to plug it back in with my fingers because I can’t let a drop go to waste—”

His hands clamped down on your thighs, locking you in place, his breathing ragged, his entire body trembling beneath you.

“Keep talking,” he ordered, voice rough, barely restrained, something almost unhinged.

His hips snapped up into you, deep, sharp, over and over, your body jerking from the force, from the overstimulation, from the heat building inside you so fast it was making you dizzy.

But you still wouldn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

“Jungwon—oh my God, Jungwon, I wanna be pregnant so bad, I want all of your babies, I want to always be full, always be leaking, always— Fuck me so hard you'd turn one baby into triplets wouldn't you?”

His pace turned brutal.

No more teasing. No more patience. No more self-control.

“You wanna be fucked stupid, huh?” he growled, pulling you forward, pressing you flush against his chest, his voice hot and sharp in your ear.

You nodded frantically, sobbing out broken little moans, still rubbing at your clit, still rocking onto him, completely fucking insatiable.

“I’ll make sure it takes,” he muttered, grinding up into you, so deep you could feel him pressing against your stomach again. “I’ll fuck you so full you won’t even be able to think about anything else—”

His hands slid back down to your belly, pressing against the bulge, feeling where he was stretching you open.

“You feel that?” he groaned, digging his fingers into the soft flesh there, pressing against himself inside you.

Your body tensed, toes curling, every muscle trembling.

“That’s where I’m gonna pump you full. Right here, baby. That’s where I’m gonna make you a mommy.”

You let out a shattered cry, body clenching around him, pleasure crashing over you so violently your vision went white.

“Jungwon, oh my God, oh my God, I wanna be breastfeeding to newborns while you’re still fucking a third one right back into me, fuck i wanna be so full with you all the time my pussy permanently tastes like your cum please,” you babbled

He moaned, loud, ragged, desperate.

With one final, deep, ruthless thrust, pressing as far inside you as he could go, he spilled inside you.

Thick. Hot. Filling you completely, just like you begged for.

His fingers dug into your hips, his breath hitched, his body trembled beneath you, his lips parting in a wrecked little gasp.

But you weren’t done.

Couldn’t be done.

Would never be done.

You shuddered against him, whimpering, clenching around his cock, feeling the mess dripping out of you, feeling the heat of his release spreading through your stomach.

But it wasn’t enough.

Never enough.

“You can’t let any of it go to waste,” you panted, brain completely melted, fingers curling against his chest. “Jungwon, please, please.”

His head snapped up, eyes wild, hair damp, chest rising and falling in sharp, heaving breaths.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, shoving his fingers inside you, pushing his cum back in.

Your breath caught, body jerking, a high, wrecked sob escaping your throat.

“You wanted it, baby,” he murmured, voice dark, teasing, dripping with something possessive. “Wanted me to breed you, right? You’re gonna take every last drop.”

His lips brushed against your ear, his fingers sliding deeper.

“I won’t stop until you’re carrying my baby.”

𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢

Riki doesn’t know when to stop.

Or, more accurately—he knows, but he doesn’t care.

He likes pushing you past your limits, watching you squirm, watching your body tremble from the sheer amount of pleasure he’s forcing you to take.

Right now, you’re under him, barely coherent, already so spent, so weak, so fucking wrecked, but he just grins down at you, completely unbothered, completely unaffected.

“You crying already, sweetheart?” His voice is smooth, teasing, so infuriatingly calm despite the way you’re falling apart.

You whimper, shaking your head even though tears are slipping down your cheeks, your entire body trembling beneath him.

Riki just laughs, soft and taunting, dragging his fingers down your stomach, feeling how your muscles twitch under his touch.

“Too bad,” he hums, adjusting his grip on your hips, tilting them up just slightly, making you feel every inch of him. “I’m not done yet.”

You let out a wrecked sob, your fingers clawing at the sheets, your mind too foggy, too overwhelmed, too overstimulated to form words.

His lips curl into a slow, lazy grin, fingers pressing against your trembling thighs, feeling the way they shake beneath his touch.

“You can take more,” he murmurs, his tone mocking, saccharine sweet, but underneath it, there’s something darker, something hungrier.

You try to shake your head, try to beg, try to push him away, but he just tuts, clicking his tongue.

“You say that,” he smirks, dragging a finger down your cheek, wiping away a tear, then bringing it to his lips, sucking it off like he actually enjoys the taste of your desperation. “But your body’s telling me something else.”

His hips snap forward, rough, slow, deep, forcing another gasping cry from your lips.

Your back arches off the bed, your head falling back, your breath leaving you in ragged, broken little sobs.

“Fuck, that’s pretty,” he groans, watching the way your body reacts, watching the way you squirm beneath him.

His fingers trail down, brushing over your sensitive clit, pressing down just slightly.

You flinch violently, a wrecked whimper leaving your lips, your thighs snapping shut on instinct.

Riki just grins, grabbing your legs, forcing them open again.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he murmurs, voice mocking, condescending, so fucking entertained by how wrecked you are. “None of that. You wanted this, remember? You wanted me to fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. How am I meant to fuck a baby into you if you’re behaving this way, honey?”

You shake your head frantically, breath catching, words slurring together as you try to plead with him.

“N-no, Riki—”

He tilts his head, eyes dark, completely unfazed.

“Sweetheart, I don’t remember giving you a choice.”

His fingers rub slow, lazy circles over your clit, his cock pressing even deeper, making your entire body jerk, making you cry out, making you twitch uncontrollably from the overwhelming sensation.

Tears slip down your cheeks, your breath coming in sharp, gasping sobs, your body trembling. He laughs, breathless and taunting, voice dripping with amusement.

“Shit,” he mutters, dragging his tongue along your jaw, pressing hot, teasing kisses against your throat. “You look so fucking good like this. Can’t even fight it anymore, can you?”

Your hands grip at his arms, weak, useless, just barely managing to keep hold of him as your vision goes hazy.

He leans in, lips brushing against your ear, voice low and dark and impossibly cruel.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he whispers, dragging his tongue along your earlobe, his fingers circling your overstimulated clit with cruel precision. “Give me one more.”

You let out a shattered cry, your body arching, shaking, breaking, pleasure tearing through you so violently it feels like you’re coming apart at the seams.

Your vision blurs, white-hot heat flooding through your veins, waves of ecstasy crashing over you so hard you swear you stop breathing.

Riki just grins, his voice soft, teasing, drenched in satisfaction.

“See? Told you you could take more.”

Your body twitches, trembles, shudders against him, your limbs limp, your mind blank, completely and utterly spent.

Riki clicks his tongue, watching the way you struggle to even keep your eyes open.

“Not passing out on me yet, are you?” His voice is mocking, amused, but underneath it, there’s something almost… affectionate.

“You can sleep when I’m done.”

-

TL: @ziiao @beariegyu @seonhoon @naurwayyyyy @somuchdard @ijustwannareadstuff20 @ddolleri @annybah @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @zzhengyu @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4 @starniras @wonuziex

[burgojo]

27 CLUB. GETO / M!READER / GOJO

summary. satoru's crushing on suguru but finds out he's got a boyfriend! you are, however, equally dreamy, and if satoru was capable of such introspection, he might realise he has a type...

wc. 9.7k

tags. smut | dom top reader, switch bottom geto, sub bottom gojo; established geto/reader. non-sorcerer + rock/metal musician reader, reader is described as a big guy. skinny gojo supremacy, geto with piercings. somno, riding, doggystyle, exhibitionism, dub-con, degradation/praise, daddy kink (once; r. receiving), humiliation, gojo's a crybaby, edging, frotting, choking, overstimulation, gojo gets passed between reader + geto for a bit

"You brought me to a dive bar? Lame."

Suguru's brow twitches, but he says nothing – outwardly. "You were the one begging me to let you come with. Pick a side."

"I'm on the side of good music. I don't want to hear screeching kids out past their bedtimes."

"You think that's the sort of thing I listen to?"

"I mean," Satoru waves a hand in Suguru's general direction, eyeing his choice of clothes, "your outfit has so many holes in it. You could pass as a rebellious delinquent. Like one of them gyarus."

"I do not—" Suguru inhales, shaking his head; leave it to Satoru to think fishnets and cropped shirts count as clothes full of holes. His bangs sway over his eyes; for the first time in perhaps forever, his hair is loose. Satoru can't take his eyes off it when it shines blue-black under the street's neon lights. "I'm not falling for that again. Now, stop dragging your feet. We're here."

They halt in front of a big, dark block of cement. Its windows are blacked out with curtains, and years' worth of posters pasted to the walls overlap, flaking and peeling until only the fuzzy back sliver of the paper remains. The dates on the posters keep changing – the oldest one is from 1998. The ones on top are advertising weeks in the future, up to a month, and the shitty photo-editing reeks of their garage-band histories and amateurish natures.

One of the posters catches Satoru's attention. A young, attractive woman with dark hair and very few clothes on smoulders at him.

With a question on the tip of his tongue, Suguru approaches his side and follows his gaze questioningly. The eye-roll he gives is so quick it's almost pre-emptive. With a hand draped in black and silver jewellery, he grabs the back of Satoru's collar and hauls him away, almost lifting him clean off his feet. "Goodness, Satoru... Have some decency for once in your life."

"Hey! I thought you'd appreciate me taking an interest in your hobbies. And be gentle with that! It's designer!"

Suguru only lets go at the bottom of the stairs, where the evening light abruptly dims and every surface becomes twenty per cent stickier. Satoru grimaces at the palm of his hand, having caught himself against the wall when Suguru tossed him into the dingy basement like a sack of potatoes.

"This place is a real trash heap," he complains – or shouts, rather. The bass in the music rattles his bones like maracas. The place is less like a bar and more like a club. His sunglasses slip down his nose from the vibrations alone, and he pushes them up with a disapproving sniff. "Why couldn't we stay above ground? There seemed to be a perfectly okay bar up on the roof. Looked real nice and moody, too – good for dates."

"Because up there, they have to actually believe your ID," he says in a tone that adds the 'stupid' at the end for him. Without waiting for a response, Suguru pushes his hands into his pockets and leads the way into the bar. He waltzes up to the bartender, who seems to be between patrons. She dries a rocks glass in her hands. Her head bobs loosely to the beat of the live music.

He lifts two fingers. "Beer, please. Whatever's cheapest."

Satoru makes a noise at the back of his throat.

"It's not for you. Geez, Satoru, the world doesn't always revolve around you," he sighs exaggeratedly and flicks his bangs out of his eyes to meet Satoru's gaze. He smirks. "You want something to drink?" He points at the tiny backboard propped up beside him on the countertop, detailing a range of drinks and their prices. "Here are their non-alcoholics. If it won't make you sick, I recommend the raspberry float."

"Then I'll get that." Satoru leans against the bar in the space between Suguru's stool and the next. He shifts, trying to appear natural, and he places his other hand in the pocket of his jacket. He really doesn't need it in this cramped bar – not with the number of people crowding around, driving up the heat.

At the other end of the room, a large group stands at the base of a raised stage. The trio upon it complete sturdy rock covers of popular songs on the radio. They make for exciting listening, though their sound isn't what Satoru usually goes for.

Suguru flags down the bartender for Satoru's bright pink sugar abomination, and she drops off his two beers with a nod. Satoru doesn't have the time to wonder about them further before Suguru turns to him with a wry smirk.

"Sit down, greenie. You look like an idiot."

"And you don't?" he retorts, but hops up on a stool anyway. He prods the glistening mug of beer closest to him, inspecting the amber liquid within, and lifts his eyes.

What surprises him is that Suguru isn't looking at him – or at his drinks, either. Isn't one of the first rules of going to a bar ensuring one's drinks are always within sight?

He tilts his head, a light crease marring his brow. "Suguru? What're you looking at? Pay attention to me. I'm bored."

"I'm looking for someone," he replies coolly, scanning the crowds near the stage. With a sigh and a slump of the shoulders, he glances over at Satoru with a small smile, resting his elbow on the bar. "Sorry. I'm a little distracted. I haven't come here in a while, you see."

Satoru doesn't see – which is ironic – and wants to ask. But asking means he'll look his way, and that means Satoru won't be able to admire Suguru's pretty feline features for as long as he'd like. He'd get all embarrassed about it and growl at him.

Propping his chin on his knuckles, Satoru traces each curve and plane of Suguru's features with his eyes, committing every line to memory. Suguru won't always be this young, and the dim neon lighting is so nice on his skin, cutting deep shadows across the soft fantasy of his face.

Purple and green. Fitting, for a place called the Viper Lounge.

"Satoru. Your drink is here."

With a blink, he straightens up, and the pretty bartender lady shoots a knowing wink his way. The tall pink drink almost glows under the lights, and the float bobs with the tiny streams of fizzing soda bubbles that rise to the top.

Smiling to himself, Suguru glances back at the stage as Satoru's unyielding attention averts to the bartender, bothering her for a matching pink drink umbrella. The room is painted black, like a secret born to the night, and the stage matches the paint job. It makes its users seem to float several feet off the ground.

He taps his cheek with a soft sigh, fiddling with his brow piercing. His hair catches on it sometimes, but that's the price he must pay.

He watches Satoru absently. Where were you? Had your schedule changed in the weeks he'd been busy?

Then, with the faint echo of the microphone, an all-too familiar voice:

"One! Two! Three! Four!"

The leap from silence into rapid metal is violent. The drums beat lifeblood through veins. Steel shreds the guitar. Bass peels flesh from bone and snaps it back together.

Suguru's reverie shatters like glass.

There you are. Tall with confidence, clad in leather and denim. Your hair's shorter than he last remembers, but wilder, already-damp strands of hair sticking to your temples as if fresh from a romp in the sheets. Jewellery glints under the moody stage lights, and it's hypnotic, the way you charge up the crowd with your voice and your guitar. The amp by your feet is beat-up and worn, having played stepping stool to leather boots too many times, but it explodes with sound. Your sound.

You've got a quartet for a band, all faces made familiar through his connections with you. His heart flutters at the memory of your arm slung around his waist, pulling him into your side as you laugh at something your drummer said.

Satoru's head tilts as Suguru slides off the seat and grabs the two beers. "Suguru? Hey! Where are you going?"

It's too loud to hear him, what with the singing and the screaming and the heavy thump-thump-thump of drunken dancers jumping around. Suguru weaves through the crowd of crying fans – mostly girls; your bassist is your only female member – and it's easy to recognise him, his physical training and broad body letting him part the drunken gaggle just by walking forward and keeping balance.

He reaches the front of the crowd and lifts his face to you, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips. His dark eyes are endless in the shadowy room, and the way he raises the mug of beer feels like the hand of the devil. His tongue toys with his snakebite piercings, the soft pink of it peeking past his lips like a taunt.

During the lull of the song's vocals, you crouch down, avoiding the stares and grabbing hands of dozens of fans. You grip the beer – Suguru's smile widens – and rise to your feet. The rim's already at your lips, and rapid bob of your Adam's apple as you swallow invokes a wave of screams and a chant of "Chug! Chug! Chug!" that fills the bar.

Droplets run down your throat and soak into the collar of your shirt. Your skin glistens. Sweat dampens your throat and the furrow of your brow.

As the melody builds to a crescendo, you slam down the empty mug and launch into the song's chorus, the rough metal gravel of your voice sending more than one fan into hysterics.

Suguru watches the way your fingers fly over the guitar neck with impossible ease, smiling into his beer at the memories of those same fingers wrapped around his neck, his hips, his—

An arm falls over his shoulders. "Suguru! Don't run off like that again! Where you go, I go."

He glances over his shoulder. Satoru's almost shouting in his ear, and some ways behind him, he spots at the bar the empty glass with the pink umbrella balanced recklessly on the rim.

"Sorry," he shouts back, a sheepish, apologetic grin on his lips. "Got carried away. Did you like your drink?"

"Yeah," he says above the noise. "C'mon, hard to talk here! Let's find a booth."

Satoru slips in on one side, and Suguru takes the other. The deep red leather of the seats feels decadent in the low lighting, the same way velvet and jewels go together. Satoru peers over his glasses at Suguru with a shit-eating grin.

"Not gonna lie to you," he begins. "I'm pretty sure that normie over there was eyeing you up like a piece of candy."

There's a twang to his words, and Suguru smiles behind his glass of beer, leaning in and peering at Satoru closely. Nearly imperceptibly, Satoru leans away.

He straightens. "Are you jealous?" he says, almost in disbelief. "No way."

A pause.

"What?" he laughs, waving a hand as if to disperse the very thought from the air. "Jealous? Me? Of him? Don't make me laugh, Suguru. I'm way cooler! And better-looking."

"I'm not sure," Suguru hums, sparing a glance at the fans trying their damndest to touch the singer's steel-capped boots. "For starters, he drinks well."

"Don't say 'for starters' like you're about to dive into a list of compliments." Satoru pouts, crossing his arms. "Is he the person you were looking for earlier?"

"Mmh. He's got a good voice, doesn't he?"

"He sounds like he smokes three packs a day. But you don't care what I think, do you? You've already made up your mind."

Suguru chuckles, vanishing about half of his drink in two gulps. It's rather impressive. "That sound is raw talent and cultivated skill. You sound like you hate him."

"Nah, you're just trying too hard for a guy in some no-name garage band. Did you see his clothes?" He peers over his glasses at his friend. "They're western brands. Not cheap here. He's a total poser."

"But he looks good in them, right?"

"Eh. So-so."

"I bought them for him."

"I mean, they fit well on him. And they match the whole 'rockerboy' thing, but that's more because of you than him."

He hides his grin behind his beer, sipping on what remains to nurse it until your gig ends. Satoru's too predictable.

—

Later, Suguru ventures into the staff lounge with Satoru on his heels. Pleasantly warm with alcohol, he finds you alone by the couch, one boot kicked up on the footstool and an arm thrown over your eyes. Your chest rises and falls slowly with your breaths, and Suguru quietly slips around the furniture to take a seat next to you. He grasps your forearm and lowers it.

Satoru stares.

You're handsome. He gets it now.

One eye cracks open. Your hazy eyes pass over Satoru as if he's not even there – how annoying – and land on Suguru. Your gaze brightens and you sit up, lowering your boots to the ground.

"Oh, it's you!"

Your voice is surprisingly mellow, low and smooth like caramel. Despite your neutral affect – and the fact that you're not even addressing him – Satoru's cheeks warm.

"It's me." Suguru's voice is soft.

You gaze at him a while longer, the pause filled with your bright, contradicting smile. Then you grunt and sit forward with your elbows on your knees, your leather jacket creaking quietly. "My favourite man. What can I do you for?"

"You're too sweet, YN," he says, a flicker of shyness crossing his features. "Haven't seen you in a while."

Your brow furrows and you sigh, glancing aside. "I know, I'm sorry, doll. It's been difficult trying to adjust to my new job – just been dead tired all the time. Anyway – what is this, an interrogation? You gonna introduce me to your buddy or what?"

You cock your head up at Satoru, who stands in front of you with his hands in his pockets. With Suguru to your side and the corner of the room on the other, you have nowhere to go.

Suguru spares a glance at his friend. "Satoru, sit down." He turns back to you. "He wanted to come and I couldn't stop him. Just ignore him. I wanted to talk to you."

"Sure. What about?"

He places a hand on your knee. His nails are painted black. "I really wanna stay at your place."

If Satoru wasn't watching closely, he would've missed the way your eyes widened the slightest bit. He has to commend you – you smother it quickly.

"Tonight?"

"Mhm." He shuffles closer to you. His fingers twitch as he glances down at your hand, as if he has to suppress the urge to take it in his own. "Thought we could catch up a bit – braid each other's hair, do our nails, the whole nine yards."

You blink. "That's... awfully forward of you. You usually dance around these things until I finally figure it out."

His lips twitch up. "I can be direct when I want to be."

"Oh, so you just enjoy riling me up."

"I like what comes after."

Suguru's head tilts slightly, and your faces are an inch apart. His eyes flicker to your lips.

"Of course you can stay, Suguru," you murmur, your expression softening. "I'm glad you came here."

"Even though I'm breaking the rules?"

"My whole shtick is being counter-culture. That includes disobeying rules when they're stupid."

"When they're stupid," he echoes. He smiles, his dimples losing him his tough-guy persona. He bumps your shoulder with his, tucking his loose hair behind his ear. "Are you staying here for any reason?"

You shake your head. "Been paid and everything. I'm just abusing the couch for an air-conditioned nap. The others are going clubbing in a few hours if you want to meet up with 'em and say hi."

"Did you want to go?"

"Nah. I had a killer headache last night and don't want it coming back. Mostly, I planned to bake something."

Satoru can't hold it in any longer. "You bake?"

Two sets of eyes swivel to him where he stands by the fridge, checking out its contents.

"Uh, yeah." You turn to Suguru and stretch, resting an arm over the backrest behind his shoulders. A classic, almost dorky move, and one you do all the time, but Suguru's heart still flutters. "Who is this guy, by the way? Why's he wearing sunglasses inside? You're not cool, dude."

"I have sensitive eyes," he declares, pointing overhead at the bright, artificial white lights. "Name's Satoru."

You raise a brow. "I think you've been mentioned once. Last name?"

"Need-to-know basis."

You narrow your eyes at him.

Suguru interrupts the staring contest, shoving himself into your line of sight. "You said you had a headache. Are you okay?"

You drop the glare and smile at Suguru, squeezing his shoulder. "Mm, don't worry about it, baby. Nothing a few painkillers can't solve."

He lifts a hand to your face, tracing the shape of your cheek with his knuckles. His touch is so light it almost tickles. "If you say so. Don't forget to sleep more. It's not good for your skin."

You offer a fond smile. While swiping a few chocolates from the bowl on the table, Satoru notices how Suguru leans into your touch and how he presses his side into yours as much as he can, thighs and shoulders brushing. He didn't know he was... that sort of person.

Rather vacantly, Satoru thinks he should be more upset right now. After all, he's been pining after Suguru for the past year, and now he finds out that Suguru's got some normie with tight leather pants falling into his bed? He was planning on confessing after Suguru's birthday, but he supposes he should trash that plan.

Fuck. Awkward.

"Hey, Satoru." Suguru's soft voice draws him out of his thoughts. "YN wants to try a new recipe. Wanna come with?"

"You're gonna be my guinea pigs," you agree. Your heavy gaze rakes Satoru's body, and he suppresses a warm shiver. "Or my little white mouse."

Satoru tries to ignore his blush. He straightens, pocketing another chocolate. "You don't care about inviting a stranger to your house?"

"Any friend of Suguru's is a friend of mine." You stand and stretch with a pleased groan that feels far too intimate. "I don't have shit worth stealing, anyway, unless you count my banged-up guitar. It's, like, twenty years old."

"Not old enough to be vintage, too young to be seriously desirable." Suguru sighs, slumping against your side dramatically as you pass through the door together. "Story of my life."

"Ew. Don't joke about that." You glance past Suguru – Satoru's eyes, you notice past the glasses, are an unexpected shade of cornflower blue. "Hey, Baby Blues. How'd you two meet?"

"Hm? Oh, high school."

"Ah, you two are the same age?"

"Same class and everything," Suguru says as you wander towards your car, the keys jingling in your pocket as you try to find the correct one by touch alone. There's a shadow of a guitar case in the back of the car. "Can't get rid of him anymore."

"That just means you always have someone to shout you a drink or two." You pull open the door for Suguru and draw a vaguely round shape in the air with a finger. "Karma's a circle."

"Yeah? And where are you in that circle?"

Swiftly, you shut the door and turn to Satoru, nodding your head in the direction of the car. "Hop in, Blue! You'll be glad you came when you try my tiramisu."

—

Some time later, Satoru finds himself on your soft leather couch, nursing a very flushed Suguru on his left and a less-flushed you on his right. You cackle at his attempts to take the game controller off Suguru, and when Suguru gets touchier in order to body-block him, you can tell from his flustered expression that he doesn't really know how to deal with it when you're right there.

"I'm fine," Suguru sighs, batting Satoru's hands off. He leans in further, trying to push him back, when he persists. "Satoru, you're blocking my view with your big head! It's your fault if I die."

You own a PS2 with a pretty neat collection of games. Suguru is doing less than well with Metal Gear Solid 3.

"Let me have a turn," Satoru pleads, pouting when Suguru expertly weaves the controller away from him. He's had years of practice with it. "I'm so good at stealth games! Lemme try, I wanna go—"

"Just say you wanna impress YN. It's less desperate, man."

Satoru's jaw snaps shut with an audible click. His eyes are so blue that Suguru can see the shine of them behind his almost-opaque glasses.

Suguru smirks and shifts on the couch, tossing his legs over Satoru's lap victoriously. He settles comfortably among the pillows and returns his attention to the television.

"W-What?" he stutters. Did he hear that right? Was he drunk on the tiramisu's brandy?

"It's okay," Suguru says, sneaking past a guard successfully. He smiles victoriously, lip piercings glinting in the light. "I wouldn't mind sharing if it was you. Have you seen the size of him? I can't eat all that by myself."

You chuckle, one arm slung over the back of the couch. In your other hand is a brandy glass, the dark amber alcohol you used in the tiramisu sparkling under the light as you gesture with the glass. "Dunno 'bout that last bit. You try pretty hard to."

"I don't like leaving my meals half-finished. I'm also generous to those less fortunate – Satoru's never dated anyone, you know? I wouldn't want him getting hurt by some selfish asshole because he doesn't know any better. That's why I think you'd be good for him."

The colour of Satoru's face rivals Suguru's. He rubs his cheeks, sinking into the couch. "Stop telling him my life story! You're making me sound really uncool. You're so wasted, Suguru – is this what you're like outside of school?"

"I'm not that far gone," Suguru groans, controller going limp in his hand. He reaches around Satoru to give it to you, which you accept – you immediately start blitzing through the in-game building, attention now completely elsewhere. He levels him with an unimpressed stare. "I could probably take you right now."

"You want to fight me in your boyfriend's apartment?" Satoru squawks. "He made food for you! Control yourself. Gosh..."

"'Control thine emotions'," he mocks. "I'm perfectly in control. You need to admit that you like my boyfriend."

"I don't." Panic drips from his voice.

"You totally do. It's cute – I've never seen you with a crush on anyone. A rich boy liking an underground rockstar? Embarrassing. I've read that manga before."

"No, I don't – I'm not a manga protag—" He cuts himself off, jabbing a finger into Suguru's chest. "I just have eyes, okay? I can tell when someone's, like, visually appealing. You're visually appealing. Doesn't mean I'm going goo-goo over you."

With a roll of his neck, Suguru leans in, propping his elbow on his shoulder. He levels his gaze at him, blinking slowly.

He sucks in a breath. He can smell his honey-scented shampoo. He's holding on by the skin of his teeth.

"A-And," Satoru continues, shifting in his seat. How incredibly unfortunate it is that he's sitting between you and Suguru. Why is that, anyway? Weren't you the ones dating? "You're being weird. Who the fuck talks about this? Like, seriously."

"YN and I talk like this all the time. You're just a prude." He sticks out his tongue, and the flash of a silver piercing studded into his tongue leaves Satoru breathless and shocked. He scrambles forward, reaching towards him, and pinches Suguru's jaw with one hand.

"What the hell is that?" he exclaims, brows furrowing. Memories of the previous conversation are all but gone.

Suguru lifts an eyebrow, glancing aside. He'd almost forgotten how strong Satoru can be. "What's what?"

"That." He shifts his grip, forcing Suguru's lips to part. His tongue flicks against his front teeth, and the little silver ball catches the light.

"A pierthing," he replies, muffled. He lets Satoru, alarmed at their sudden closeness, pull away first with a scandalised blush. Suguru rubs his cheeks and lets his tongue loll out of his mouth, showing it off with a glint in his dark eyes.

Satoru stares. How is his tongue so long?

"Cool, right? I wanted to match YN's look. It makes us look ten times better than the next couple."

He blinks himself out of his daze. "Did it hurt?"

"Not as much as you'd think. I had to get used to talking with it, though – I was lisping like crazy while it healed. I was thinking of getting a septum piercing to balance it out – or just more on the ears."

"You never tell me anything." He pouts. "How'd I never notice it...?"

"You think I don't tell you things? Fine. How about this?" Suguru shuffles forward and drapes an arm over Satoru's shoulders. He offers a lazy smirk and cups a hand by Satoru's ear. "It makes guys feel great."

His heartbeat pounds in his skull. He swears Suguru glances down at his lips – but that could be his woozy double vision. His hair looks so soft...

"Done," you announce, setting the controller in Satoru's lap – he picks it up hastily before Suguru can nab it. He huffs and crosses his arms, empty-handed. "Your turn, Blue. I wanna see some slick action, or we both get to watch Suguru struggle with holding people up."

"I am not that bad!" he snaps. "The controller buttons are sticky."

"A bad workman blames his tools," Satoru says automatically.

He immediately begins to argue.

Hm. You can see why Suguru's so endeared with the white-haired man, especially when he takes off his glasses to blink his huge, glossy blue eyes up at him. He's pouting, Suguru's waving his arms around, and you're certain you've got enough room in your bed for three.

—

In the darkness of your bedroom, you're slowly dragged from the depths of sleep by a weight above you. Your brow furrows, a little grumble falling from your lips, as hands trail down the sides of your face and play with your hair.

"YN."

You release a soft breath.

"YN. Wake up."

Your eyes crack open, and you find yourself frowning up at Suguru's shadowy figure. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you notice that he's not wearing any pants.

He shifts on your lap, face inches from yours. His long hair is swept over his shoulder, slightly messy with sleep. His eyes, however, are perfectly awake, staring down at you with an animal hunger.

"Hey, you," he whispers fondly, barely a breath. He lowers his body over yours even further until your chests press together. You wrap a lazy arm around his waist. "Need you, baby."

"Suguru," you whisper back, only just now noticing the state of your boxers. They're slick and sticky, and you know for certain not all of it is because of you. "How long have you been at this?"

"Five, ten minutes. I don't know. I got impatient." He ghosts his lips over yours, tucking his hair over his ear before he cups your face. "Need you so bad. Need you right now."

"Fuck, seriously?" you huff, shifting slightly so you can rest back on an elbow. "Damn nymphomaniac..."

A body beside you rolls over. You freeze.

Shit. You'd forgotten he was here. Satoru had been insistent on taking the couch, but Suguru's large brown eyes and sweet words had worn him down. When you chimed in to express your agreement with your boyfriend, he'd broken fully, and accepted.

"I've already prepped myself," Suguru breathes, pressing his bare cock against the front of your boxers. He rolls his hips slowly, kissing you equally torturously. "Please, baby? Needa come so bad."

His words are slurring. Usually so put-together, Suguru grinds against your growing bulge with a soft whimper, eyes fluttering shut as his cockhead catches on the cloth.

He's going to be the death of you.

You place your hands on his waist, lifting him just enough to reach your waistband and free yourself from your boxers. Suguru sighs shakily and tucks the band below your balls, batting away your hand to be able to hold it himself. You roll your eyes at his attitude but allow him to admire your cock. He nibbles on his lower lip as he rakes its length with his heavy gaze.

"You're already hard," he teases under his breath, closing his fist around it and stroking it from tip to base and back again in one rough motion. You jump slightly, a hiss slipping out between your teeth. Suguru silences you with a hot kiss, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he strokes you and swallows your sounds.

He shifts cautiously on his knees, mindful of Satoru's still body next to him, and opens his hand to slot his cock against yours. He purrs as he tugs them both, head falling against your shoulder as he rocks back and forth atop your lap.

"So good," he whispers into your skin, his hot breath fanning your neck. You can feel him tremble – with excitement, with exertion. His breaths are shaky as he quickens his fist, rutting against you.

He's dripping. Your shared arousal slicks up your cocks, and Suguru's wet palm squelches quietly with every stroke. He shudders out a soft moan, nails digging into the pillow beneath your head.

"Is this what you wanted?" you growl under your breath, hands pressing firmly against his waist and forcing him to grind harder into your cock. His hips stutter. "Fuckin' whore, doing this when your best friend's a foot away from you..."

He swallows a moan as you dig your thumb into his leaky slit. "Y-Yes – yes, I wanted this. 'M sorry for being such a slut," he whines softly, his thick thighs tensing atop yours. His cock jumps as Satoru shifts in his sleep. "Oh, fuuuck..."

You chuckle breathlessly as Suguru leans into you, his slick fist squelching louder as he grinds more desperately into you. You hold your hand in place, formed into a loose circle, and allow Suguru to fuck into it as his tip catches on the ridge of your glans with every thrust.

"G-Gonna come," he whispers against your jawline, free hand tangling in your hair. His little moans feel so much louder right by your ear, and your heart races whenever it pitches that much higher. "Ohh, god..."

"Yeah," you pant, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him close. You press your palm against his shoulder – his heart pounds through his back. "That's right, dollface. Don't hold back. I wanna see my pretty slut come for me, alright? Wanna have your come all over me."

His rushed, shallow little humps rock the mattress dangerously. You grip the shelf of his hips in warning, slowing him down. He whimpers like an injured animal, pleading.

Swallowing roughly, you wrap one hand around his cock and use the other to grip his plush ass beneath his oversized t-shirt, your fingers digging into the soft skin. He gasps softly and presses into your touch, humming gratefully as you jerk him off, your thumb swiping over his swollen tip.

With an arch of his spine, his arms tightening around you, he comes, his pants and sighs soft and breathy against your skin. He presses his hips against yours, coating your cock and stomach with spurts of hot come.

Your head falls back against the pillow, an exhale escaping your lips as your eyes flutter shut. Suguru collapses on top of you, hips still jerking intermittently, and you can feel his sticky pleasure dripping down your sides in rivulets. Fuck.

Suguru tucks his head under your chin, dragging a thumb down your side and smearing his pearly release over your warm skin. Your stomach tenses under his touch and he smiles, tongue running over his piercings.

"I want yours inside me," he declares, leaving no room for argument. "Don't waste it."

"Waste it?" you breathe. "Waste it for what? You want kids or something?"

His lashes flutter as his gaze lifts to yours, dark and smoky. "Something like that."

He picks himself up and positions himself upright on your lap, shifting on his knees to better balance his weight. He glances at Satoru's curled body and mop of messy white hair, almost glowing in the darkness. Heat swirls in his stomach as he notices how tightly Satoru's gripping his pillow. A wicked grin tugs at his lips.

Suguru grinds his ass against your cock, one hand reaching back to rub the tip and press it against his fluttering hole. He lets the tip catch against his rim, throwing his head backwards and scattering long locks of hair in a cascade down his back. His hole clenches around nothing.

"Feels like you're about to burst," he teases softly, continuing to rub against the shaft. "Your balls are so heavy, too... Please let me have your come, daddy. I want it all inside me."

"Dirty little thing. If you can stay quiet, I'll let you have it," you mutter, bending one knee to give him some support. He grips it, lifting his hips, and slowly sinks down on your thick cock, hole clenching and fluttering around you at the stretch.

"I can, I promise." He exhales shakily, expression twisted with pleasure and pain. "Fuck."

"Take it easy," you murmur, eyes flashing with concern.

He chuckles, breathy. "What if I said I liked it?"

"I'd call you a whore."

"And I'll prove it." With a sharp inhale, his hole swallows the rest of your cock in a single gulp. His thighs quiver, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. His cock throbs, hot against his skin.

"Holy shit," you exhale, eyes wide as he trembles around your dick, his long hair flowing over his shoulders as he stares down at the join of your bodies, fascinated by his own capacity. You can feel every pulse of his heartbeat, every ripple of his silken insides. He's tight as a vice, gripping your cock, and he moans softly as a spurt of precome makes the fit a little easier.

He grins, eyes dazed but focussed solely on you. He moans when you wrap your fingers around his cock, wet and hot, and begins to rock his hips, fucking into your grasp.

"Hard already," you note in an almost condescending tone of voice, twisting your fist and making him suck in a sharp breath. "You're such a pervert, aren't you, Suguru? Touching your boyfriend when he's sleeping, riding him where your best friend could wake up and see how shameful you are... I bet you'd fuckin' come if he watched you like this."

A hand shoots up to muffle his cry. Your cock nudges his prostate and he presses into it, but you keep shifting your damn hips to avoid knocking into it directly.

He's helpless. Why did you know him so well? Why was he cursed to suffer at the hands of a sadist?

"Quiet," you whisper warningly, grip tightening on his hips and forcing him to keep moving. You experiment with a few upward thrusts, meeting his bounces halfway with meaty smacks that feel far too loud in the silence of the room.

"I can't keep quiet if you're fucking my brains out," he hisses, but his aggression melts away the moment you crush his prostate head-on. Briefly, his eyes roll back to show their whites, and he shudders out a broken, muffled moan.

You pat the side of his ass, making him flinch at the sound. "Relax," you huff offhandedly, "I'm not even doing all that much. You're just too much of a slut to notice the difference – a cock inside you, and all your thoughts fly right out the window. You're so pretty, doll. Stop thinking so hard."

"Asshole," he grunts, but doesn't stop bouncing. He throws his head back. "Ohh, fuck me, your cock is so damn good..."

"That's right, baby. Just like that," you groan, his tight slick hole dragging with every lift of his hips. His pace grows unsteady, messy, a creamy white ring forming around the base of your shaft. You quicken your strokes, matching Suguru's shallow bounces, and he gasps your name, cock spurting precome that you smear over his shaft to make the glide easier – filthier.

"Fuck me," he curses, his voice growing dangerously whiny. "Why are you holding back? Just come! Come inside, please, I-I'm so close, wanna come with you—"

You thrust into him roughly and squeeze his cock. He chokes out a sharp gasp, far too loud, as thick come paints his insides white. He spills into your hand, his creamy release running over your knuckles and down his swollen, pulsing shaft. He grips your shoulders, nails digging into your skin, and his sides tighten as his movements slow, each bounce long and slow as he grinds down as deep as possible.

His muscles loosen as he pants, slumping down on top of you as he dips his tongue between your lips. You groan lazily as his piercing bumps your teeth and rolls against your tongue. You squeeze his hip, smoothing your palm over the generous curve of his ass. Your lips smack softly and he shivers, his cock giving one more valiant throb.

In the corner of his vision – the peripherals of his senses – Satoru twitches.

Suguru sits up immediately, to your confusion.

"Baby?"

He hushes you, not sparing you a glance. His gaze bores into his friend's back.

"Satoru?" he whispers.

Like clockwork, he stiffens.

A grin tugs at Suguru's lips. You stare up at him, propped up on an elbow. You don't have his sorcery-enhanced sensitivities – you don't notice that the white-haired figure next to you is breathing harder than usual, or that he's shifting far too much for sleep.

"Satoru," he hums, soft and coaxing. "I know you're awake."

Your heart drops like a stone. Suguru, however, smiles wider.

"Not moving won't do anything, you know."

Then—

Slowly, he sits up. His hair is more of a mess than it usually is. His oversized white shirt has risen slightly and shows off a sliver of pale skin.

Suguru is going to kill him. He's sure of it. His voice is soft and dangerous.

"How long were you awake?"

His head feels foggy, still reeling from shock. "Uh..."

Suguru lifts a hand to his mouth, eyes crinkling with a little titter. He points down at Satoru. "Long enough, I'd wager."

He looks down. His face explodes with heat.

The hard-on strains at the front of his shorts. A dark spot mars the cloth where his tip would be.

Shit. Fuck. He'd borrowed your clothes – so had Suguru – and here he was, soiling them with his envy and desperation. He was such a freak.

"I-I can explain," he stammers, and you can't help admiring the way he seems to swim in your clothes. The elastic in the shorts had to be pulled as tight as possible for it to stay up without help, and even then, they sat teasingly low, showing off his delicate hipbones whenever he stretched.

Smirking, Suguru gradually lifts his hips, eyes fluttering as he pulls off of your cock. Satoru's ocean eyes widen at the sight of it resting on your stomach.

"No need," he says evenly. Satoru doesn't need his Six Eyes to catch the drop of pearly liquid rolling down the inside of his thigh as he leans over to turn on the lamp on the bedside table. It douses the room in a faint golden glow. He bites back a whine as Suguru continues, as if nothing's wrong. "Come here, Satoru."

When he extends his hand, it's like salvation. Satoru stares at his kind, open palm.

He takes it. Suguru's slender fingers wrap around his, tugging him closer. He coaxes him nearer, the way one would with a frightened animal.

You're looking at him. You're both looking at him. Something sick and twisted in him likes it.

"Do you want us?" Suguru says softly. "Or have I read you wrong?"

Satoru swallows around the dry lump in his throat. His lips part. "I... I thought you wouldn't like me that way."

"Oh, Satoru," Suguru croons, lifting a hand to brush his white bangs out of his eyes. "Always so perceptive about everything but yourself."

Satoru's eyes dart away and amongst his jittering nerves, he latches onto the steadiness of your gaze, trained on him. He flushes when you smirk, your bare upper body displayed like a piece of art beneath his stare.

"Who do you want first?" you ask, and Suguru presses himself into your side. You level your gazes at him, and he stutters out some nonsense before falling quiet, pinned beneath your attention. "Suguru's already prepped, if you swing that way."

Suguru rolls his eyes at your choice of words, though he smiles fondly. "Surely he wants you, rockerboy. You're new – a novelty."

"And you're something familiar in an unfamiliar situation. Why wouldn't he choose you?"

"Can't I have both?" Satoru says quietly, though he blanches when your shared attention turns to him. "U-Uh, I mean—"

Suguru turns to you thoughtfully. "Hm?"

Your eyes glitter. "Hm."

—

"That's it, sugar," you chuckle, sliding a warm palm up Satoru's side to wrap around his throat. He gasps as you grip his jaw, forcing his lips to part, and maybe you're stronger than he'd like to admit – one hand on his shoulder, one around his throat, and that's all you need to lift him plain off the bed. His fingers scrabble at the sheets, barely brushing, and in his desperation, he grips your waist. The position only has him arching even further, your cock slamming into his bruised and sensitive prostate.

"Ah, ah, ah," he moans, eyes fluttering and silvery hair sticking to his damp temples. "Ah – Suguru, d-don't watch...!"

You wrench his head up, forcing a cry from his throat. You click your tongue, shaking your head. "Tsk tsk tsk. Look at him. Look, Satoru."

He mewls and obeys despite the hot shame and arousal crawling around his guts. The way you say his name makes him dizzy – not soft and purring like Suguru, not reverential or tense like other sorcerers. To you, he's just a brat, and you're firm with him in a way that nobody else has ever been. Not cruel – just firm.

When Satoru lifts his watery gaze to Suguru, he finds him staring down at the length swinging between his legs. His hole clenches as his thighs attempt to close – to hide himself away. You hiss in pleasure, knocking his knees apart with your own.

"Fuck," you rasp, stroking his lean hip and admiring the way bruises bloom red on his pale skin. "Look him in the eye, Satoru. You wanna make him come, right? We're doing this for Suguru. Don't be so selfish that you forget who you're serving."

"S-Sorry," he hiccups, shakily arching his back and exposing his bare, leaking cock, deep red with want. His gasps and moans are loud, echoing off the walls, almost drowning out the sound of your thighs smacking his ass. "Ah—! S-Slow down, I – nngh!"

Satoru's cock throbs painfully. The cockring you'd placed on him strangles his base, and his heartbeat pulses in his dick. He wants to come really bad.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Suguru's foot nudges his pulsating cock, pressing roughly against it. A teasing smile plays at his lips and he hums as Satoru chases the friction with a miserable, choked noise, whimpering when you drag him back towards you.

"I-I – it feels—" He can't think straight, head spinning like he's been slammed against concrete one too many times. His breath snags on the thick air as your fingers dig into his jaw. Your dick punches the breath from his lungs, dragging the painful pleasure up from deep in his belly. He sniffles softly, hazy eyes welling with crystal tears. "Ahn – Suguru," he sobs, so weak and pathetic even to his own ears that it makes his cock swell within its cage, its tip drooling incessantly.

How cute – begging his best friend for help. As if he'd listen.

"Don't slow down," whispers Suguru, voice like silk. "He can take it. He's the strongest."

That means nothing to you, but Satoru's gut clenches violently. Humiliation curls around his thoughts, burning the fringes of his mind with an electrifying shame.

Suguru slinks forward, sliding his thigh between yours in the mess of legs. His touch flutters over Satoru's warm cheeks and he presses close. You slow your pace to a snail's crawl, dragging against and kissing Satoru's swollen gummy prostate.

"I can't," Satoru whimpers, weak in your hold. He leans into Suguru's gentler touch. "I can't do it. I can't. It's too much."

"No, it's not. Don't be silly," Suguru hums, taking his cock in his hand and making Satoru sob and jerk. He aligns it with his, rutting against it lazily. God, he's got another fucking piercing right beneath the glans of his dick – it catches, smooth and hard, on the ridge of Satoru's tip. His bright eyes lose their focus and his hips twitch. "I'm not letting you go until I think you're done. Just try not to pass out, okay?"

"He won't. He's a good bitch – barely needs any training. He takes me like a fuckin' champ." Your cock punches into his guts and he squeals, his cries high and melodic even as he falls limp in your hands, his fingers scrabbling at your hips and thighs. Suguru moans at the contact, his fist wrapped around both his and Satoru's lengths. "F-Fuck – you're both so damn pretty like this."

Satoru gasps as Suguru smiles and leans over his shoulder to kiss you. Pressed between your bodies, Satoru can hear every wet smack and soft moan of your kisses right in his ear. His cock throbs violently, leaking a constant stream of pre.

Suguru's hands rest on his hips, gently guiding him back and forth between your cock and his. His cock is warm and velvety, and Satoru whimpers as Suguru presses further into him to kiss you deeper with a pleased sigh. Your grip tightens on Satoru's jaw, pulling him into your chest, and he mewls, squeaky little moans falling from his lips as your cock fills him up over and over again, fucking him like he made you angry.

"S-Suguru—!" He can't get the rest of his sentence out before two thick fingers shove into his mouth. His yelp melts into a moan as they press down on his tongue, silencing him.

"Hot," Suguru observes, parting from you to catch his breath and watch the way his friend sucks and drools on your fingers, his cerulean eyes dazed and glossy. "Kiss me again."

You oblige, twisting your hand in his long, loose hair and pulling him towards you. His lips are warm and plush, and his breath hitches as your tongue rolls across his, flicking the silver piercing there. You pull back for air but he doesn't let you, yanking you back in and tracing the length of your tongue with a debauched moan.

Satoru can hear it all. He can't watch – no, not with your firm grip on his jaw – but not being able to see makes everything ten times worse. He feels like a toy, his high withheld and his sight limited. For all his gifts, he still has to fucking turn to see things, and he wishes really, really badly that he knew what it looks like.

He can imagine it clearly. Your faces flushed, your hair mussed. Suguru's delicate features relaxed into a wanton expression, his piercings glinting in the low light as his tongue twists with yours. Your brow furrowed, your lips swollen, as you suck on his tongue.

Desperately, with tears in his eyes, he slobbers around your fingers, gripping your wrist in both hands. Saliva runs down your knuckles and Satoru chokes as you push your fingers deeper, sliding over his tongue possessively. He adapts quickly, muffled moans high and needy as your cock slams into his guts.

He swears you can't be a non-sorcerer. How else could you ruin him so easily? How else are you tracking every little twitch that gives away his most sensitive places? How else are you still going?

You've backed off now, instead staring at Satoru and the way his lips close around your fingers like they're a cock. Suguru, equally mesmerised, licks his lips.

As if you're one being, you remove your fingers from Satoru's slick mouth, and Suguru cups his face and kisses him.

Kisses him.

Kisses him.

He can't think. His body moves on instinct, his teeth clashing with Suguru's in a messy and uncoordinated manner, but he is kind, and he coaxes control from him to teach him how to kiss. Blue eyes made even bluer with the red ringing his lashline, Satoru moans and scratches at Suguru's shoulders, cock throbbing as the ring bites into his raw shaft. Suguru's fingers brush against his tight, aching balls and he blubbers like he's going to die.

"Please," he manages to choke out, gasping and jerking as Suguru scrapes his nails down his dark red length. "P-Please..."

He doesn't even know what he's begging for. More? Less? For Suguru to stop looking at him as if he'd hung the stars? He's a sinful, degenerate mess, he knows it – far from the perfect and powerful sorcerer the world expects. The Gojo clan heir, ruined on something so obscene and mortal as a big, thick cock.

You turn his face towards you, watching the tears fall over the flushed apples of his cheeks. He's so pale that every little touch burns him with lust, and his embarrassment spreads from his cheeks to his chest and down his shoulder blades.

You press your lips against his and he whimpers, a hand shooting up to grip your hair. He kisses back, moaning as you swipe your tongue over his lower lip, and the slick sounds of your lips smacking makes his walls flutter and clench around you.

He's clumsy, but eager. He whines like a puppy, bouncing on your cock, and leans into your touch when your hand smooths over his stomach, shiny and slick with his pre. He pants into your mouth. You swallow his moans.

Firm and swift, Suguru snatches Satoru's chin and pulls his face towards his. He makes an ugly sound as Suguru wraps his hand back around their cocks, forming a loose hole for them to fuck into – Suguru's release is thick and creamy, and it feels filthy when he smears it over both their cocks.

He came! He came, he realises joyfully, relief and arousal flooding his veins in equal parts – he came because of him! Satoru melts into the kiss, lips slick and parted as they pant and moan, sharing hot breaths between them. The air is muggy. Suguru licks into his mouth, hardly human, and tears stream down Satoru's cheeks, his brain so mushy he can't tell your limbs from Suguru's, or his own from the bedsheets.

Barely letting him breathe, you grab Satoru's face and stick your tongue down his throat. He hiccups, eyes rolling back as you grind into his ass and come with a grunt in hot, thick spurts. His toes curl and his lips pout pathetically, chasing yours when you pull back to check on Suguru. He whines and tugs your hair to make you turn those pretty eyes back to him again, your warmth spilling into him and making him yours. You allow it, your tongue running over the slick nubs of his teeth.

Suguru scrapes his canines over Satoru's pale throat, only marred by his blush. That won't do. He drags his pierced tongue down his jugular and across his Adam's apple, made more pronounced by the angle of his neck – Satoru sobs into your mouth, chest heaving as he grips Suguru's hair and feels the sting of hickeys bitten into his fair skin.

Through his tears and dizzy pleasure, he's given back to Suguru, who coos at him and kisses him sweetly – no tongue this time, just their swollen lips moulded together as if they belong right there and nowhere else. He twitches as your teeth sink into his shoulder, decorating his other side with love bites. He's never gonna be able to hide them all.

Passed around like a cigarette, like a whore, Satoru barely realises it when Suguru slips off the cockring – with some difficulty, as his cock, stomach, and thighs are so wet with pre that it makes everything feel like a damn waterslide. The moment it scrapes over his swollen tip, he's crying out and tensing, sobbing as heavy spurts of sticky come spray Suguru's stomach and thighs.

He tries to say their names – because they're so kind, so good to him, he has to say thank you and be grateful because they could've left him there all by himself – but the first syllables of their names devolve into relieved, babbling moans. Suguru strokes his hair, holding him close, as you help him ride out his bliss, your pace gradually slowing as he twitches and jolts in your hands.

As his high peters out, he slumps into Suguru's arms, whining shakily as you pull out with a slick pop. He clenches around nothing, his hole gaping and abused, and clutches Suguru like a lifeline.

You hum, pressing a thumb against Satoru's dark puffy hole and pulling gently. Feebly, it clamps around nothing, and a dribble of thick white come leaks out, joining the mess between his legs.

Man, those legs. He could be a model with a body like that. Despite being taller, Satoru's slimmer than Suguru, and he feels tiny and fragile in your palms, shuddering and trembling. You squeeze his slim thighs, watching his fair skin dimple under your touch like marble, and his muscles twitch, unsure whether to pull away or press into you. He decides on the latter, moaning softly when you grab his ass appreciatively.

"Such a darling," Suguru hums, voice light and adoring as he brushes the tears from Satoru's warm red cheeks with his thumb. "You did well, Satoru."

Giggling dreamily, he nibbles on his lower lip, pushing his cheek against Suguru's shoulder. He reaches blindly behind him, and when he finds your hand, he pulls you in behind him, forcing your arm to wrap around his little waist. He purrs, perfectly pleased now that he's squished between two big, warm bodies. "Yeah...?"

Suguru nods, his long hair falling over Satoru's shoulder too. "Yeah."

Eyelids half-closed and nose buried in Suguru's neck, Satoru follows easily as you lead them to lay down on the bed. When your arm loosens around his waist, however, his hand shoots out with startling speed and accuracy.

"W-Where are you going?"

If you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded afraid.

"Bathroom. Gotta get you two cleaned up before it gets gross," you reply gently. He has Suguru to ground him. That doesn't seem like enough, though, because his large blue eyes well up again and his lower lip trembles. His grip tightens around your wrist and you're surprised when it almost begins to hurt.

"Stay," he whispers, slender pale neck craned to look you in the eye. It's covered in bruises and bite marks.

"I'm not leaving," you chuckle, stroking his inner wrist with your thumb. "You're in my bedroom. Nowhere else for me to go."

He shakes his head, stubborn – they're both like that. "Don't care," he whimpers, tugging insistently. "Come back. Clean later."

"But you're the messiest one here, Satoru," you point out, amused, and you don't miss the way he shivers when you say his name. "Surely you don't want to stay that way?"

"Don't care," he repeats in a mumble. He hums as you obey his iron grip and return to the bed, lying down in front of him. He snuggles into your chest, sighing soft and content as Suguru shuffles closer behind him. He feels your arm join Suguru's, resting over his waist. The heavy weight of them combined and the radiating warmth from your chests fade his thoughts into pleasant nothingness.

"Suguru?" you murmur.

"Hm?" His chest rumbles delightfully against Satoru's back.

"I've got him. You can get washed up if you like."

"It's alright. He'll pull me back down, just like you. It doesn't feel bad – I sorta like it. I've been covered in worse, anyway."

You curse under your breath, arm shifting around Satoru. "Do I wanna know?"

"No."

You chuckle lightly, and your next words are soft and teasing. Suguru responds in kind. Satoru's eyes flutter closed, the rest of your quiet conversation becoming hazy background noise as it lulls him to sleep.

Surrounded by warmth – a very human warmth that Satoru's been chasing for years – he can't help curling up like a cat, breathing soft and even as your rumbling voices pass over his head. Yours is deeper than Suguru's smooth, easy cadence, something of your musical talents emerging in the depths of your voice. It makes it easy for his subconscious to follow – at least for a while, before they blend into one lilting track.

Dreams come easy to him. How could they not when this pretty fantasy of his has just come true, tucked in the arms of Suguru and his dreamboat of a boyfriend?

Well, it's like Suguru said: can't get rid of him. He's yours, now – no takesies backsies.

[evansbby]

𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: mean jock!Steve Rogers x naive!reader

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+, minors dni, dark, noncon, dubcon, daddy kink, dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, controlling behaviour, cum play, jacking off, lingerie kink, dom/sub dynamic, frat party setting, asshole fratboys, ari levinson mentioned lmao.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: you run into steve at another frat party. this time, it's in his territory. (alternate continuation of chapter two of wicked games, but this has ZERO impact on the wicked games story. again, this does not affect the plot of the original wicked games timeline, it's just a fun little detour, a completely separate story if you will. you can read this without having read wicked games).

“Can we leave? I’m not really in a party mood,” you frown, tugging at the hem of your dress and regretting how short it is. It’s deep purple and form fitted, with a hemline that sits right below your butt. You’d thought the sexiness of it would help you get more into the spirit of things since Wanda had insisted on dragging you here tonight, but clearly that hadn’t worked. 

“Don’t do this right now, Y/N. We need to be seen at these events if we want to be popular.” Wanda smiles and waves into the distance as if she’s recognised a friend. Despite the fact that this is a St. Jude’s party and you know as well as she does that everyone here is a complete stranger to the both of you. 

You wrinkle your nose, “Well, I don’t really care about being popular–”

“Of course you do. Everyone does.” Wanda’s eyes dart around the very crowded, dimly lit basement of the frat house as if looking for someone. 

“But we don’t know anyone at St. Jude’s!” You tug at your dress again, feeling more insecure than ever. 

Tonight was originally planned to be a girl’s night – and you’d already picked out a movie, laid out the facemasks and bowls of popcorn, and pulled on your comfiest pyjamas only for Wanda to show up to your dorm in a slink black dress and strappy heels, telling you there was a frat party at the rival college that the two of you just couldn’t miss, and that she was giving you fifteen minutes to get ready.

“Yeah, but this morning I overheard some cheerleaders, and they said Curtis might be here.” 

Oh. Of course. Now it all made sense. Ever since the night of the last frat party the two of you had been to, the one where Wanda had slept with Curtis Everett… Well, ever since then she’d become a teensy bit obsessed with him. And that was also the same frat party where you and…

“Wanda! If Curtis is here then Ari will be here too! I don’t wanna see him!”

Your best friend rolls her eyes, “Relax. I also heard the cheerleaders say that Ari went back home for the weekend. Sharon Carter was all upset about it, because apparently he didn’t even bother inviting her and she hasn’t met his parents yet. But anyways, keep an eye out for Curtis, would you?”

“Okay…” Begrudgingly, you scan the room. A part of you is happy that Ari is out of town, because it makes it easier not to think about him, knowing he’s miles and miles away. Out of sight, out of mind - that was going to be your motto when it came to him moving forward.

“Looking for someone?” 

The deep voice feels like velvet against your ear, and you inhale sharply at the familiarity of it. Your whole body starts to buzz when you feel a warm hand press against the small of your back, the stranger’s touch brimming with confidence as he easily turns you around. 

You’re faced with a chest. A big, muscly, expansive chest covered in a grey shirt that’s deliciously tight against it. Slowly, you peek up at his face. Blue eyes. Cocky smile. Handsome. Angelic.

“Steve!” you breathe, relaxing at the familiar face, “You’re here!”

He chuckles, casually grabbing your hip and squeezing it, “Well, considering this is my frat house, it would be weird if I wasn’t.”

Your eyes widen, “It is?”

“Yep. Thanks for coming over, sweetheart. I had a feeling I hadn’t seen the last of you after that party.” He winks. And you have to admit - he looks good. All six foot six inches of him, looming above you with that charming smile on his face, that smile being one of the only things you remember from the night you’d last seen him, where he’d been such a gentleman and dropped you home after everything that had happened with Ari.

He’s got a backwards baseball cap on his head, but tufts of his blonde hair peek out from underneath, and his blue eyes sparkle as he watches you, as if he knows you’re checking him out. And unabashedly, he does the same, his pink tongue licking over his lips as he drinks in your body, his hold on your hip tightening. 

“I…uh… yeah,” you feel self-conscious, tongue-tied after the embarrassingly long amount of time you’ve just spent checking him out. “Thanks for giving me a lift home, by the way. I was super drunk.”

He nods, the glint still in his eye, “I should be the one thanking you for that cab ride.”

You blink, “Thanking me? Why?”

For a moment, he just stares at you. And oh, he’s so intense! That’s another thing you remember about him. How his eyes felt like they were boring holes into your very soul.

Finally, he smiles. “Don’t mention it, sweetheart. You looked so cute and helpless, I knew I had to step in.”

“Hey! I wasn’t completely helpless…”

He laughs, “A damsel in distress if I’d ever seen one, and…” he pauses, bringing his thumb up to stroke your lip. Oh, he was so forward too! Considering you’d only ever met him once before and there’d been nothing sexual between the two of you. “Do you remember what I told you that night?”

You shake your head, half in a trance by how he’s just touching you so openly. Except you don’t really want him to stop.

“I told you that if you were my girl, you wouldn’t be allowed to step foot inside a party like that one. Or this one, for that matter.”

You purse your lips, “Fine. I’ll leave then.”

Steve chuckles, encircling both his arms around you as if he owns you, “Too late. I’m not letting you go for the rest of the night.”

“B-But I’m here with Wanda…”

“Who’s that?”

“My best friend. She brought me here, and–”

“Doesn’t matter. This is my house and you’re here with me now. Okay, baby?”

He strokes your cheek and says it so sweetly, that the controlling nature of his request doesn’t even sink in for you. No, you’re way too distracted by the unabashed hunger in his eyes, the confidence in his smile as he yanks you closer, till your chest is pressed up against his, and an embarrassing squeak escapes your lips. 

“I…uh… Steve, I…”

“Say okay,” he commands you, “you don’t have to think so hard when you’re with me, sweet girl. I promise I’ll take care of you just like how I did last time.”

“Uh… I… o-okay…I ju–”

He smirks, “Cute little tongue-tied baby. C’mon, let’s go to my room.”

At that moment, Wanda reappears, a mildly annoyed look on her face. 

“Y/N, didn’t I tell you to keep an eye out for Curtis? What do you think you’re doing–?”

She stops short, her eyes widening when she sees you’re not alone.

“Wanda, this is the guy I met the other night–”

“–Steve Rogers,” Wanda cuts you off, beaming up at him, “What are you doing with Y/N?”

Steve blinks, “Why would I not be with Y/N?”

She looks you up and down, and if you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn her eyes flash and narrow, “Uh, you know she’s with Ari Levinson, right?”

Your jaw drops - why would she say that? She knew you’d vowed never to speak to Ari again!

But Steve looks completely unperturbed, and he lazily throws his arm over your shoulders, yanking you into his hard chest. And you know it’s a display of ownership - he’s been doing it the moment he saw you tonight after all. And it should bother you, but it doesn’t! Oh, it doesn’t, it doesn’t, it doesn’t!

“You know what, Wilma? I think I saw Curtis outside by the pool.” He flashes her that charming smile that you thought was only reserved for you.

Your best friend’s eyes widen, “Really?”

“Yeah. He’s definitely there.”

“Thanks, Steve!” She sidles up closer to him, accidentally bumping you out of the way – well, you hope it’s accidental. She strokes his chest, her manicured nails scraping against his shirt, “Would you show me where the pool is please? This place is so big, I couldn’t possibly find it on my own.”

A sudden fire ignites inside you, burning its way up to the surface of your body alongside this weird feeling of… well, you don’t really know. But you stand there, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch their interaction unfold in front of you.

But Steve remains by your side, “Up the stairs and outside the sliding glass door on your first right. You won’t miss it.”

“I’ll come with you, Wanda,” you try to shake off Steve’s heavy arm. You don’t really want to leave him, but it’s only right that you go with your best friend.

“Don’t bother, Y/N. I can see you’re busy.” And she’s off without another glance at you, but she makes sure to brush past Steve as she goes, despite the fact that there’s enough room for her to not have to do that. 

Steve snickers, “That’s your best friend?”

“She’s drunk, I think. Usually she’s a lot friendlier…” your voice trails off as you watch her leave the basement in a hurry. “Is…uh… is Curtis really up there? By the pool?”

Steve smirks as he grabs your hand and tugs you to the stairs, “If that bald-headed fuck was anywhere near here, I’d personally kick him out myself. Now come on, let’s go somewhere a bit more private.”

Steve’s room is neater than you’d assume a basketball player’s room in a frat house to be. Not that you have anything to compare it to since Ari had never invited you into his room. But this one is muted, grey, minimalistic with some basketball memorabilia scattered around. 

He’d wasted no time in getting you alone up there, practically half-carrying you through the crowd of people and up the stairs, his grip on you tight and confident. As if you’d been his girl all your life, as if it was a concrete fact that you belonged to him tonight. And it’s like your body was too entranced to even put up a fight to stop him.

Oh, what had you gotten yourself into?

“Good thing I got you out of there before things got too rowdy,” Steve shuts his bedroom door behind him, and you hear the unmistakable click of a lock. And you know you should feel more alarmed than you actually do - but it’s Steve! He wasn’t like Ari Levinson - he was nice! He could’ve taken advantage of you at that last frat party, but he hadn’t! The only person who’d taken advantage of you that night was Ari.

You could trust Steve.

“Do your parties usually get super rowdy?”

“For babies like you, yes.” Again, he unabashedly stares at your body, at your bare legs accentuated by your high heels, your tight dress that hugs your curves, the dip of your cleavage and the way it rises up and down as you breathe shallowly. “As I said before, I don’t want you down there. Not where they can all see you.”

You wrinkle your nose, “No one was looking at me. I’m from a different college, no one here even knows me.”

His muscular arms wrap around your waist with that same charming confidence, as if he’s known you way longer than he actually has. As if he knows you won’t pull away. How does he know that?

“You’re more innocent than I thought, baby girl.” To your shock, his hands press flat against your thighs before moving upwards, straight up under your dress to cup your bare ass cheeks. You gulp, yet remain rooted in place as he gently squeezes the soft flesh. “Skipping into a frat house looking so fucking sexy, and thinking no one’s gonna notice you?”

“Well, I didn’t skip…”

“You may as well have,” He presses his hard crotch against your front, and he’s so much bigger than you that you can feel his boner digging against your midriff, and it sends jolts straight down to your core. There was just something so hot about him being so big, you being so much smaller, him calling you innocent, him being so forward and unpredictable… It actually reminds you a bit of… NO. No, don’t think about him!

“And guess what?” Steve whispers in your ear as he gently walks you backwards to his bed. 

“Wh-What?”

“I’ve rescued you from not one, but two parties now. You owe me.”

You squeak as he sits down at the edge of his bed and pulls you on top of him. Till you’re perched on his lap like a baby, your butt on his knee and your legs draped across his beefy thighs.

Steve smirks, “Comfy?”

“I think so,” your mind’s frazzled, and your body is buzzing with heat. When did it get so hot? Now, he’s pressing his lips against the nape of your neck, his hands rubbing up and down your body in a way that has you shaking on his lap. Oh, it was too much, it was–

“Look, you have another varsity jacket!” You blurt out, pointing at the familiar blue and white jacket draped over his desk chair. Exactly the same as the one he’d given you the night of the other party. “I still have to return the one you gave me.”

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, “You keep it, baby girl. It looked cute on you.”

You duck your head, the compliment making you shy. Somehow, him calling you cute had a way bigger effect on you than him calling you hot, “Really?”

He pushes your chin up with his pointer finger, and it’s all these little touches that he’s administering so casually are getting you so hot and bothered, so worked up on the inside in a way that’s so unfamiliar to you. No one’s ever made you feel like this except for one other person…

He licks the shell of your ear, “Yes. I liked how big it was on you.”

“It wasn’t that big…”

He raises an eyebrow. 

“Okay fine, it was pretty big. But that’s not my fault, you’re literally a giant!” You giggle when he runs his fingers up and down your arm. It’s ticklish but it also feels kind of good.

“You like that I’m so much bigger than you?” Nonchalantly, his finger dips down to hook the hem of your dress.. 

“Well, uh, I don’t not like it…”

“Answer properly.” 

It’s crazy how casual he is, yet at the same time so quietly demanding, so dominating, so in control. How quickly he’s switching from charming and sweet to intensely serious. But it makes you want to do whatever he’s asking of you. 

“Yes,” you squeak, too shy to look into his eyes except he has hold of your chin and is able to keep your gaze locked with his. “Yes, I like it.”

Steve relaxes, “Good girl.”

The compliment makes you feel nice, and you sit there in his lap basking in it for a while. You don’t even notice him hiking your dress up higher and higher, till he snaps the elastic band of your thong. 

“Cute panties.”

“Hey!” Hastily, you push your dress back down, a part of you snapping out of whatever spell he’d cast on you since the moment he’d dragged you up here, and you shoot him your fiercest look. Which only serves to amuse him, the corner of his lip quirking up into a smile. 

“Does the bra match?” 

“You-You can’t just ask that!” 

“I just did. Now answer.”

His brashness should get to you, but for some reason all it’s doing is getting you wet. He was being so inappropriate, and yet it’s like you’re being held prisoner by your own body, which seems to love how he’s touching and petting you right now. How he’s demanding you answer all his questions, how he’s essentially ordering you around. 

“Actually, I have a better idea, baby girl. I think you should show me.” He twirls a piece of your hair around his finger, running his tongue over his lips. His skin is pale, but his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink. And oh, he’s so handsome! It makes you want to listen to whatever he says…

“Show you?”

“Yes. You’ll take your dress off and show me what you’ve got on underneath, won’t you?”

“I will?”

Steve smiles easily, smiles like he’s having the most normal conversation on Earth and you’ve just said something funny. “Of course you will. Because you like listening to me. It makes you feel all small and cute, having someone like me be in charge of you.”

Your jaw drops, and yet… Oh, why does him saying that make your core throb?! And you know you shouldn’t… but maybe it would be okay if you did what he asked just this once? After all, he just wanted to see if your underwear matched. There was nothing untoward about that, was there?

A part of you knows you’re being delusional, but you’re also pressing your thighs together subconsciously. As if just him talking like he’s so in charge is getting you so hot and bothered, so turned on. And a bigger part of you, the hornier part of you, can only focus on how big he is, how in control he is, how small you feel in his lap, like you’re his baby and he’s allowed to do whatever he wants with you, and you’ll just let him.

“Stand up,” Steve orders, “Let me see you properly.” 

It’s comical how quickly you scramble to obey him. As if the you who’d arrived at this party feeling bored, irritated and out of place has been replaced by a girl controlled by lust and want, her body betraying her as Steve taps into your most submissive inner desires, and you can’t help but listen to him. 

He nods in approval when you stand between his legs.

“Good. You’re so hot, baby girl.”

“I am?” You beam, despite the fact that you knew you looked good the moment you’d put this gorgeous purple dress on earlier tonight. Despite the time crunch Wanda had put you under, you’d still managed to look more than presentable. And now, a part of you wonders what Ari would think if he saw you—NO STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM. JUST STOP.

”Yes, you are. Now take your dress off.”

“B-But Steve…”

“Do it.”

Cheeks burning, yet pussy throbbing at the same time, you unzip your dress. Trying to make your breathing sound less laboured, you keep your eyes on his. Only because his gaze is so intense, and you’re afraid he’d object if you looked away. 

The dress falls down to pool by your feet, and you stand in front of him in your lacy black set, with high heels to match. Steve inhales deeply, his Adam's apple bobbing as he looks you up and down. And oh, you feel so awkward yet at the same time so turned on when you see that dark look of lust in his eyes. 

“Twirl. Slowly.” He grabs a bottle from the side of his bed, unscrewing it and taking a gulp. You catch a glimpse of the Grey Goose label, vaguely wondering why he has a bottle of vodka stored beside his bed, and how you didn’t know anyone to just drink it straight up like that - no mixers or anything. 

You twirl for him, concentrating on not tripping in your heels. You haven’t had anything to drink tonight, and yet your movements feel sluggish out of nervousness. But you hear a low whistle behind you, before the feel of his large hand grabbing your ass and giving it a squeeze.

“Fuck, look at that cute little baby ass in those panties. Get back on my lap,” he growls. But before you can climb back on, he raises his hand to stop you, “Put my jacket on first.”

“Wh-What–”

He slaps your ass, pushing you in the direction of his desk chair with his varsity jacket draped over it. You gulp, slipping it on carefully. And it’s gigantic on you, the sleeves too long and the hem reaching down to mid-thigh. But Steve only licks his lips, beckoning you over once more. 

“It’s a bit big,” you bite your lip.

Roughly, he yanks you back into his lap, catching your lips between his in a searing kiss. Kissing you like he’s obsessed with you, and your eyes widen as he deepens it, sinking his teeth against your bottom lip carnally. As if he wants to eat you up, and his hands are all over your body, slipping underneath his jacket to touch your bare skin. 

“You’re so sexy, baby girl,” he breathes after he’s had his fill of kissing you. But even then, he pecks your lips between words, and you jolt in his lap when his thumb brushes against your erect nipple through the lace of your bra. He smirks against your mouth, “And you know it, don’t you?”

“No,” you lie, because the way he’s looking at you with such dark, almost carnivorous eyes… Oh, it makes you feel like the sexiest girl in the world!

“Of course you do. That’s why you wore this hot little lingerie set.” He snaps the strap of your bra against your skin and you yelp. “It looks so sexy on you, baby.”

“Thanks!” Most of the fancy lingerie you owned had been bought for you by Ari, but this was one you’d treated yourself with. Which was just as well, because there was something unspeakably awkward about sitting in the lap of one man wearing bra and panties bought by another man.

It was also funny how different Ari and Steve’s tastes were. Ari almost exclusively wanted you in pink or white sets, always something super girly and sweet and innocent. Steve seems to be the complete opposite, with how his eyes are glued to your black lingerie now.

Steve takes his baseball cap off, perching it backwards on your head. Another mark of his ownership, and yet your frazzled mind doesn’t have the capacity to think much into it.

He dips his head, licking a stripe down your cleavage. You gasp, automatically gripping a handful of his hair. He grabs your breasts, pushing them together against his face and nuzzling, licking and nipping as if he’s starved. Pushing the cups of your bra down, he latches on to your nipple, sucking on it roughly. You moan, and it eggs him on, he presses you forward, taking your whole breast in his mouth and sucking hard, covering it with his spit like he’s marking you as his property.

“Such pretty tits,” he mutters, flicking your nipple with his tongue, practically bullying it till it’s hard enough to cut glass, and you’re mewling because it’s so sensitive. But that only eggs him on, and he bites down on it like he’s starved. “Want me to fuck your tits, pretty girl?”

Your eyes widen, and he laughs devilishly. It was crazy how angelic he looked compared to how filthy he was being right now!

Again, he pushes your breasts together, licking down your cleavage like he’s obsessed, a wicked smile on is face when he finally comes up for air. “Every party I’ve seen you at, you’re always wearing some cute little dress that barely covers anything, like you’re some sort of goddamned tease. Tell me, baby. Are you gonna be a tease tonight?”

Meanly, he pinches your nipple, chuckling when you cry out. Your brain is too fried to answer his question properly, and so you just whimper.

Luckily, he doesn’t push it, doesn’t force an answer out of you like how he’s been doing all night. Perhaps too distracted by your chest, his head dips back down. His hands are ruthless, so big, rough and calloused from basketball. Squeezing your tits like they’re just toys to him, like your body is his to play with, and he knows exactly how to touch you, almost as if he’s done it before.

“S-Steve,” you feel lightheaded with pleasure, amped up at how carnal he’s being. How he’s not holding back at all, how he’s acting like he knows your body despite this being the first ever time the two of you have hooked up. How is he even doing that?

“Is that what you call me?” Steve comes up for air, flashing you a warning look before switching to your other breast, flicking your overly sensitive nipple with his tongue and making your breath hitch.

“Daddy,” you moan, finally letting go of any inhibitions you had left. You rut forward, rubbing your panty-covered crotch against his thigh. And oh, the denim of his jeans feels heavenly, and for a moment, you get a strong sense of dejavu that almost knocks you out of your lust-fuelled haze. Almost.

“That’s right, rub your little pussy against me. Don’t think I don’t notice what you’re doing. I noticed last time too.”

Huh? Last time?

“Fuck, didn’t expect you to fall into my lap again tonight, baby girl,” He kisses up your neck, holding his varsity jacket against you because it’s so big it’s slipping off. “Can’t believe you just showed up at my house looking like sex on legs with your cute little doe eyes in your tiny little dress. Did you really expect you were gonna walk out of here in one piece, baby?”

“I…uh…nngh!” You moan incoherently, hardly registering what he’s saying as his teeth clamp down on your neck, and he bites and sucks at the sensitive nape, making you squirm in his lap.

“You thought you could stumble into my party looking like a clueless little baby and not expect to end up in my bed?” He bounces you on his lap roughly, and you cry out in unexpected pleasure, the action sending thrills straight to your pussy. You rut against him in response, growing more desperate and delirious by the second.

“D-Didn’t know this was your house,” you pant, breathless from the way he’s kissing and fondling you, playing with your body like you’re just his toy and nothing more.

“Bullshit,” he breathes, “you wanted to see me again, didn’t you? After that night? You couldn’t forget, could you?”

“I–”

Your voice dies in your throat when Steve suddenly grabs your panties and yanks hard. They rip instantly, and you gape at the tattered lace in his hand. He brings it up to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“You smell like you want to get fucked,” he mutters, his voice deep and thick with lust, his eyes pitch black and intense as ever.

Sure enough, your panties are wet in his fist, and you can smell your own arousal on them even from a distance. Hell, you feel your wetness seeping down your bare thighs, staining his jeans and again you get a fleeting sense of dejavu, like this has happened before. And a hazy, dream-like memory flits through your mind, just for a moment before it’s gone, and you’re snapped back into the present.

Steve, without breaking eye contact for even a second, takes your panties into his mouth, sucking on them while you watch him with wide eyes. He grabs your hand, pressing it on his hard crotch. You squeak, it felt big and almost… alive under his jeans with how it was throbbing under your palm.

“So sweet, baby,” he breathes, “I missed out on tasting your little baby cunt last time. She tastes just as sweet as I imagined.”

Last time? You’ve barely wrapped your head around what he’s just said, but his face is so devastatingly handsome in that moment, so angelic and yet there’s a darkness in his eyes that cuts through it. Makes him look like an angel hell bent on playing his wicked game, and you’re more than happy to be his pawn.

“Steve–daddy, please. I need… I need–”

“Take daddy’s cock out,” he commands, his voice deep and guttural with raw lust. So gruff, so to the point, and it makes him even more attractive in your eyes. Powerful and in control. In charge of you. Using your body for his own pleasure. Fuck. You were so far gone down the haze of lust, there was really no coming back from here.

Steve takes your hand and pushes it past the waistband of his jeans, and presses it against his huge, hard cock. And oh fuck, it feels so fat and throbbing under your dainty palm, so big like it was capable of ripping you apart and you hadn’t even seen it yet. Just touching his hot, rock-hard flesh makes you rub your pussy against his thigh once more, pleasure jolting through your veins in anticipations.

You take it out, a low whimper escaping your throat because of how red and angry and big it looks. Oh fuck.

Steve pushes something into your hand, and it takes you a handful of seconds to register the lace of your black panties. Your pretty, tattered panties that he wraps around your hand before pressing it back on his fat dick.

“Jack me off, princess,” he orders you, his voice all velvety sweet and charming again, and it’s crazy how quickly he’s switched back to that now. “Show daddy what your pretty little hands can do.”

He hisses when you start pumping him, moving your hand up and down and the lace of your panties snagging against his smooth, rock hard cock. And he can’t keep his eyes off it, how your fingers don’t even wrap around half of his fat length.

“I-Is this okay, Stevie?”

SMACK.

“Daddy! Sorry, I meant daddy!” you cry out, your ass blooming with pain after his huge palm cracks down on it warningly.

“Mm, sweet sexy little baby girl,” Steve murmurs, watching intensely while you jack him off with your black lace panties in your hand, running them up and down his thick cock. “Jerking daddy off with your hot little panties that you wore just for me, right?”

“Didn’t-Didn’t know you were gonna be here!” You squeak out, regretting your decision to be truthful immediately when his hand cracks down on your bare thigh in another sharp slap.

“Say you wore your sexy little panties for me.” He bits down on your shoulder, tearing the skin with how hard he does it. As if he can’t help it, and you cry out in pain and yet you’re still feeling so much pleasure from rutting against him, chasing your own high while at the same time serving him and doing what he wants you to.

“Wore them for you,” you whine, bucking your hips with more frenzy now. The way he was speaking to you, oh it was getting you so fucking turned on and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. It was making your brain melt, only the submissive part of it reigning over every other rational side, and you pant when your clit catches against the denim of his jeans. “Daddy, please. F-Feels…feels…”

“I know, baby. I know,” he coos at you, voice dripping in condescension. And you feel so small, almost like a delicate little fairy in the domain of a literal God. That’s how powerful and big he looks to you in this very moment, like you’re at his mercy and you’d do anything for him. “You like jacking me off, baby?”

“Y-Yeah, I – I…”

You’re talking gibberish, and desperately chasing your own pleasure as you continue to rub against his leg. And yet you look down at his dick, how fat and thick it is, how it makes your hand look so tiny. How he’s got you jacking him off with your own lacy panties, how he’s watching it so intently and you can feel his cock hardening even more, if that’s even possible.

“You like my cock, princess? Like how big it is?”

“Yes!”

He grins devilishly, “You want it inside you, baby?”

Your jaw drops. He wouldn’t, would he? Oh, would you let him? Right now, your lust-crazed mind can’t find a single reason as to why not.

“I’d fuck you so good,” he whispers beguilingly into your ear, like he’s the devil himself persuading you to do something that you’re sure you shouldn’t be doing. But why not?! It wasn’t like you had a boyfriend! Ari had made that crystal clear! “Bounce your cute little pussy on my big daddy dick till you pass out on top of me. Would you like that?”

You whimper once more as his hand reaches down between your legs, and you gasp when he spreads your sopping folds. Now, you can feel the rough denim of his jeans even better, your engorged clit practically crying as it throbs uncontrollably. The rough pads of his fingers rub against it rhythmically, and you grind back up against his hand, humping it like you’re nothing more than a bitch in heat.

“Answer me,” he slaps your pussy hard, the squelching sound echoing across his bedroom, mingling with your scream of pleasure which only eggs him on. Again, he slaps you down there, and then another time. Till you’re quivering and crying and humping blindly against his palm, spreading your arousal all over him.

“I’d like it!” you cry out, a part of you ashamed with how easily you’ve given in to him.

“Mm, you know you’d have to be carried out of here after I’m through with you,” he says, manhandling you on his lap, dragging you back and forth on his thigh and creating the most delicious friction you’ve ever felt. “Not that I’d ever let you leave, baby girl. I’d keep you under my wing, in my bed because that’s where you belong.” He gives your ass another harsh slap that has you howling, “Say it. Tell daddy where you belong.”

“I-In your bed,” you manage to get out, feeling like you can hardly string a sentence together because all you can really focus on is the intense pleasure that’s building up inside you. “I…I belong in your bed, daddy, I don’t… I can’t… I…oh!”

Your release takes you by complete surprise. You squirt everywhere, on Steve’s cock, his shirt, and some even lands on his face. He smirks, swiping his finger over his cheek and sucking on it, his eyes glinting darkly. So dark and with such hunger, almost like he wants to eat you.

“Sweet little princess pussy,” he murmurs while you melt in his arms, unable to hold yourself up. Your legs are shaking like crazy, and he hugs you tightly against his chest, although one of his hands covers your own, ensuring it stays pumping his dick no matter what state you’re in. “She tastes so sweet, baby girl. How is she so sweet yet so naughty at the same time?”

Despite everything, his dirty talk has you feeling sparks down there again. Oh fuck.

“Steve, I–”

“Nobody told you to stop, princess,” he says darkly, bouncing his leg underneath you and causing you, in turn, to bounce on top of him. Your poor, sensitive pussy, still reeling from the remnants of your strong orgasm, “Get back to it. Hump your little pussy on daddy’s leg until I tell you to stop.”

Knowing you’re weak to the point of almost passing out, he’s got a firm hand clamped on your own, and he starts making you jack him off again. Rubbing your hand up and down his cock, your black lace panties rubbing alongside. The sight alone gets you going again, and once more you feel a spark of pleasure down there.

The party’s going on in full swing downstairs, heavy music blaring and yet all you can hear is the sound of both of you panting and moaning. His sweet voice uttering the dirtiest of things into your ear as you both masturbate each other. And it’s so raw, so primal, how you writhe on top of him like a goddamned animal, how he’s got the most carnal look in his eyes as if he’s a beast and you’re a lamb and he’s about to devour you.

He kisses you, and it’s so sloppy and animalistic, and you’re shocked at how desperately your lips work against his. How his hand wraps around your neck, how your fingers card through his hair. He spits into your mouth, biting and sucking at your lip till you taste the metallicity of your own blood. Or his. You’re not too sure.

The air is hot and thick with sex, and his dick twitches in your hand, so ready to blow and that’s when his fingers squeeze around your throat.

“You ever gonna walk into a party unattended ever again?” Steve grunts, pinching and bullying your throbbing clit like he owns it.

“N-No!”

“Damn right. Where do you belong, baby girl?”

“In-In your bed, daddy – oh-oh my!”

You squirt again, and this time, Steve follows suit. You watch, entranced, as he blows his load. Streaks of hot, white cum land on your hand, your black panties, your stomach, your face, everywhere. And you cum so hard, you can feel your pussy cramping with how intense the pleasure feels, waves of it radiating through your very being, egged on by Steve who keeps rocking you against him, muttering profanity under his breath as his thumb circles your poor, overwhelmed clit.

“Good girl,” he says after a few moments, looking like he’s barely broken a sweat as he pats your cheek. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl. I needed that.”

And you watch with wide, glassy, fucked out eyes as he takes your poor, tattered panties, the ones you’d used to jack him off, now drenched in his thick cum. He brings them to your mouth, prodding them against your lips.

“Open, baby,” he commands softly. And you do, and to your shock he places the panties in your mouth, a smirk on his face, “Suck.”

You suck Steve’s cum from your own panties, unable to get over how hot your poor, frazzled, cock-drunk mind is finding this debauchery to be. He tastes salty, manly, and you feel so submissive, so under his mercy as he watches you suck like a good, obedient little baby.

“That’s right, swallow it all,” he murmurs, “You like that, don’t you? You like being a little cumslut baby?”

 You whimper out a quiet “y-yeah” and he nods in approval, finally taking the lacy fabric out of your mouth, holding it tight in his fist. “I’d make you put ‘em back on but…” His voice trails off, and he chuckles as he throws your poor, torn panties somewhere on his bed behind him.

All you’re able to do is sit on his lap like a little doll. And he’s not even done with you, still fondling and touching your body, squeezing and hugging you close like you’re a doll and you can’t get enough. He’s particularly enamoured by his cum staining your stomach and chest, and he gathers some of it with a swipe of his finger.

“Does your baby cunt want some?” Steve asks devilishly, and you gasp, again just watching as he puts his hand between your legs again, this time opening your folds and spreading his cum into your poor, sensitive pussy. “Look at that, baby. Your greedy little cunt swallowed it right up.”

“Steve, I…”

“Shhh, baby girl. You don’t need to say anything.”

You’re thankful for that, still reeling from everything that’s just happened. Oh, you hadn’t expected all of this! Hell, you’d been forced to come to this party against your will, and now… Oh gosh, how had things come to this? How did you even feel about it? How–

The bedroom door is thrown open. You yelp, holding the big varsity jacket around you as you turn around to see a burly basketball player standing by the entrance. Steve growls at the intrusion, holding you closer against his chest. “Bucky, what the fuck?”

“Sorry for interrupting, Cap, but they’re all here. The St. Andrews’ assholes. Everett, Drysdale, Levinson… He’s looking for her, I think he knows she’s here.”

What?! ARI WAS HERE?! Oh, how dare he?!

Steve picks you up and places you on his bed before getting to his feet, muttering profanities under his breath. “He knows better than to fucking come here.”

Shakily, you try to get to your feet but to no avail. Your legs are still shaking. “M-Maybe, I should–”

“Stay right here.” Steve says, an air of finality in his tone that indicates he means it as an order with zero objections. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”

THE END! guys!! I'm literally so insecure about posting this. Idk, I just feel like lately I've lost my mojo, like my writing has lost it's spark? But I pushed on because I wanted to get something out for you guys. And honestly?? BRO I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE TO END IT bc I wanted this story to continue bc WDYM ARI IS HERE?!?! I wanna see the confrontation lmfao!

But anyways, just to be crystal clear - THIS IS JUST AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE DRABBLE! It has nothing to do with the original wicked games story! That's why I wrote Steve here like how he is in chapter two of wicked games, and NOT like how he is in chapter 3 and 4! He's gone through a lot of character change and development in the original fic, but I didn't want to show that here! THAT IS IT'S OWN STORY HEHE. i know yall get it but i'm still reiterating lmao.

ANYWAYS. what did you guys think??? PLEASE PLEASE let me know! feedback genuinely would mean the world to me. I'm so fucking insecure about this fic it's like I've forgotten how to write!!

BUTTT. as usual here are some questions (you don't have to answer them, you can write whatever feedback you want but just in case hehe)

1 - HOW WAS THE SMUTTT??

2 - Do you think they would've gone all the way and had sex had they not been interrupted??

3 - How did Ari even know she was at this party??

4 - Opinions on our fav gal Wanda in this chapter?

ANYWAYS i love you guys, thanks for sticking by me and supporting my writing especially lately when there hasn't been many updates. LOVE YOU. pls lmk what you think!

[girlygguk]

WIT IT THIS CHRISTMAS ⋆ JJK

you’re done watching girls shoot their shot with your man. this time, you let them know. or, better yet, hear.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 2 of 6

pairing drummer!jk x secret situationship fem!reader

genre fwb2l, angst, fluff, smut 18+ mdni

content jk 25 | yn 22, bratty oc, jk knows how to handle her, jk is in an alt rock band with jinnie and yoongs, tae is jk's best friend & oc's confidant, vmin are bfs, jk spoils oc, babygirl just wants to be cuffed, ruined christmas plans, oc whines a bit, oc gives jk the cold shoulder for approx 7 mins before folding bc… idk dick too good i guess, jealousy, fwb but like exclusive ones because cmawn it's me, kissing, grinding, groping, big tiddy reader, big tiddy sucking, dirty talk, praise, quick bj, cunnilingus, choking if u blink, oc gets fucked w his drumsticks, and then his cock, condomless p in v sex, oc is on birth control, clothed sex, sub dom dynamics, daddy kink, a little tiny bit of squirting i think, creampie, happy but very abrupt ending sorry love you

word count 8.9k

banner by the lovely @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

North Star Pavilion, Seoul

Christmas lights twinkle across the city, their warm glow mocking the chill in your chest. Everything feels like too much—too cold, too noisy, too far from what you actually wanted today. What you were promised.

The van door slams shut behind you, the biting breeze nipping at your skin as your boots crunch against the icy gravel.

Jungkook follows close behind, his shoes scuffing against the ground as he jogs to catch up.

“Baby,” he calls softly, reaching for your hand. But you shrug him off, your arms folding tightly over your chest as you keep moving toward the back entrance of the venue.

Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh, his breath visible in the icy air. “Come on, baby,” he murmurs, his tone dipping into that pleading softness that always makes you want to fold. “Y/n, I had to—”

“I’ll see you after the show, J.”

Your voice comes clipped and cold as you cut him off, not bothering to look back. His soft footsteps falter, and you can feel his eyes fixed on you.

For a brief, brief moment, something in you threatens to crack.

But you don’t let it.

The angry stomp of your boots against frozen pebbles drowns out anything he might have said as you disappear through the back, weaving through the venue without so much as a glance in Jungkook’s direction.

The warmth of the building barely registers. It isn’t enough to thaw the stubborn frost clinging to your chest as you move down the hall, barely nodding at the familiar faces of the staff who greet you in passing.

Eventually, you find an empty corridor, the hum of the growing crowd muffled by the walls. Leaning back against the cool tile, you tip your head back and let out a bitter scoff.

This isn’t how today is supposed to fucking go.

Rolling your eyes, you dig your hand into your pocket and pull out your phone, desperate for a distraction. But the memory you’ve been avoiding all day slips in anyway—very vivid and very unwelcome.

Yesterday, you’d been curled up on your couch, your legs draped lazily over Jungkook’s lap as the soft glow of the tiny Christmas tree on your coffee table lit up the room. It had become a routine of sorts—the quiet calm after his shows, a pocket of peace that felt like yours and his alone.

Jungkook’s tattooed fingers traced idle patterns over your calf, the gentle pressure soothing against your bare skin. You were warm and sleepy from the shower you’d shared earlier, your body clad in a little sleep shirt and panties. Jungkook, in his sweats and no shirt, smelled faintly of your shampoo, his long, damp hair falling loose around his face.

It was all so soft, so cozy, so domestic.

So fucking stupid.

You caught him staring, his gaze steady and quiet, that intensity in his dark eyes making your stomach do that stupid flippy thing.

“Watcha lookin’ at, creepy?” you squinted, nudging his stomach with your foot.

Jungkook’s lips twitched as he shook his head, his fingers still lazily stroking your leg. “Nothing,” he hummed, but his gaze lingered a moment longer before he dropped it back to his phone.

You tossed your own phone to the side, crawling onto his lap with a light shove to his shoulder. He grunted softly as you shifted over him when he lay down, his hands instinctively finding your thighs as you flopped against his chest.

“You okay?” you murmured into his neck, your fingers brushing softly over his collarbone.

“Very,” he replied, his voice low, his big hand sliding up to smooth over and cup your ass.

You smiled into his skin, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I bought us Christmas pajamas,” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his pulse.

Jungkook paused for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh, his fingers stilling briefly before resuming their lazy path. “Did you?”

“Yup,” you said, smirking. “Try not to wear them, and your ass is spending Christmas alone.”

His laugh deepened, his hand slipping beneath the hem of your panties to rub slow, little circles over the curve of your skin. “I’ll wear them, baby,” he promised.

“Know you will,” you whispered, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck.

His head tilted, granting you more access as a low, soft grunt rumbled from his throat, the sound enough to make you press closer.

You were ready to tease him further, your tongue lazily flicking over his pulse, when his phone buzzed loudly on the couch beside you.

He shifted, reaching for it with one hand while his other stayed firmly on your thigh, absently stroking your skin. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, eyes closed, soothed by the soft, lispy cadence of his voice.

Until you heard it.

“North Star fucking Pavilion, bro! On Christmas Day!” The Spine Breakers’ lead singer’s voice crackled through the speaker. “The check is insane, JK!”

Jungkook sighed heavily, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh. “I already have plans, Jin-hyung—”

“We need you, man,” Yoongi, his bass player, cut in. “You’re our drummer. We can’t do this without you, dude...”

The air shifted. You felt it before you even opened your eyes.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned. You could feel his gaze on you, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to intervene. But you didn’t. You stayed still, letting him make his choice.

“Fuckin—okay, okay, hyung,” he muttered into the phone, his voice resigned as he cut off Jin’s begging. “I’ll do it.”

The second the call ended, you climbed off him, ignoring the hand that reached for you, brushing off the way he called your name. The bedroom door slammed angrily behind you.

He followed, of course.

Jungkook dropped down on the bed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he tried to apologize, his voice soft and pleading. But you didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him. You fell asleep facing the wall, his hand still resting on your stomach.

And now, here you are.

Not curled up on the couch, watching a stupid Christmas movie like you had planned. Not eating takeout, because neither of you can cook for shit. Not sneaking up to the roof to get holiday high together.

No. Instead, you’re standing in a cold, empty hallway of one of Seoul’s biggest holiday locales, the muffled roar of the crowd growing louder behind the door to your left.

The hem of your winter dress shifts as you fidget, the festive vibe of your outfit doing little to match the storm in your chest. At least it’s black. That’s, like, emo, right?

Whatever.

Merry fucking Christmas. And fuck Jeon Jungkook.

The crowd thickens as you weave through, the bass of the background music vibrating under your boots with every step. People press in on all sides, the noise a tangled mess of cheers and shuffling feet. You don’t let it faze you, your eyes scanning the mass for a familiar figure.

The closer you get to the side stage, the more recognizable faces appear—crew members rushing around, regular staff you’ve seen countless times at past shows. But it’s not until your gaze catches on a mop of black hair that some of the tension in your shoulders finally lifts.

You spot your boy...friend’s best friend leaning against a speaker, his ear piercings glinting under the scattered lights. A plastic Christmas wreath headband sits snugly atop his neatly straightened curls, and the corner of your lips quirks up despite yourself.

He notices you before you reach him, a grin spreading across his face as he lifts the beer bottle in his hand in greeting.

By the time you push through the last cluster of people, your gaze flicking over his ripped jeans and the artful layering of his black shirts, he’s already stepping forward to wrap you in a hug.

“Ah,” Taehyung says, giving you a once-over, his brows wiggling as he pulls back. “We’re matching.”

You glance down at your black-on-black outfit, then at his. “I’m in a mood,” you roll your eyes, though a quiet laugh escapes.

Taehyung hums knowingly, offering you the spare beer in his other hand. You take it, cracking the cap before taking a long sip. Your gaze flicks toward the stage, where crew members scurry to finish sound checks and tune the equipment.

“It’s fucking packed,” he comments, nodding toward the crowd, which seems to grow thicker by the second. “J said tickets sold out in minutes.”

You hum noncommittally, your focus still fixed on the stage. “Of course they did. It’s Christmas, and these emos don’t have anything better to do.”

Taehyung snickers, leaning in to nudge your shoulder. “And your excuse? No Christmas plans…?”

You shoot him a glare, taking another sip of beer as he raises his hands in mock defense.

“Still haven’t made up yet?” he prods, his tone teasing, knowing.

“Nope,” you huff, the sound bratty as your gaze flicks around the venue. “I’m ignoring him until Valentine’s Day. And if I’m not cuffed by then, I’m castrating the motherfucker.”

He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Why not just ask him to go steady again?”

“Because,” you grumble, pointing the neck of your beer bottle at him, “he’s the one who doesn’t want me seeing other guys. So, he can ask me.”

Taehyung arches a brow, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Didn’t you also say you didn’t want him fucking with other chicks?”

“Shut up,” you huff, giving him a halfhearted shove as he laughs again.

The minutes pass as the venue comes alive, the energy thickening the air around you with heat. The chatter grows louder, the crowd swelling until it feels like the walls are pulsing. You and Taehyung stand shoulder to shoulder, unfazed by the chaos. You’ve done this too many times before—waiting at the edge of the stage, watching the lights dim as the band take their places.

You hadn’t met Taehyung through Jungkook, though. You’d met Taehyung first at one of their early performances, back when The Spine Breakers were barely on anyone’s radar.

It had been a little bar in the city, the kind of place where the beer was watered down and the sound system was a half-step away from blowing out. You’d gone with your friend Marcy, both of you already knowing a good chunk of TSB's songs before the first chord even played.

Most of the crowd back then hadn’t been as familiar, more there for the vibe than the band. You’d been a few rows back, swaying to the music, when Taehyung walked by and stumbled into you, spilling half his beer onto your skirt.

He’d been flustered, apologizing immediately and offering to buy you another drink as yours dropped on the ground. When you’d rolled your eyes and waved him off, turning back to Marcy without much more than a shrug, he hadn’t used it as an excuse to keep bothering you. Sad as it might sound, that had caught your attention—guys who actually took a hint were fucking rare.

He’d genuinely seemed sorry, even offering to hold your place if you wanted to head to the bathroom to clean up. You’d given him a once-over, told him it didn’t bother you, and pulled him into your little huddle instead.

By the end of the night, Taehyung was dancing to the music beside you and Marcy, and when the set ended, he asked if you wanted to come backstage to meet the band. You’d told him to shut the fuck up, convinced he was joking.

He wasn’t.

That was the first time you’d seen Jungkook up close. The first time you’d stared a little too long at the drummer with the intriguingly quiet intensity and ink-covered arms that you wanted to run your tongue along.

While Marcy hit it off immediately with Tae—bonding over their matching daith piercings or whatever—the pull between you and Jungkook had been something else entirely.

Maybe you’ve been to every single one of his shows since then. Maybe you took a gap year from college, picking up shifts at a club in town to cover your rent while Jungkook paid for everything else. Maybe you’ve only been with one other guy in the 449 days you’ve known him—and that was way back, in the early days, before it all started to feel like this.

Maybe.

Taehyung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, his tone casual but his smile teasing. “You’re doing it again,” he quips, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, clearing your throat as your gaze flickers back to the stage. Jungkook’s seated behind his drum set now, a crew member leaning in close as she adjusts his mic stand.

“S’okay,” Taehyung replies with a quiet laugh, raising his bottle to his lips. He leans back against the speaker, his grin softening. “You guys wanna come over for drinks after the show? Jiminie made Christmas pudding.”

You blink, your focus still trained on Jungkook as the staff member smiles at him, her mouth moving—maybe asking if he was okay, if he needed anything else. His tongue flicks over his lip rings, his head tilting slightly as he shakes it in response.

She lingers.

He gives her a dismissive, doe-eyed look from under his lashes, his dimple peeking out as he shakes his head again. Finally, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glances around quickly, and scurries backstage.

Slut. The both of them.

Your lips press into a line, your eyes narrowing as you take another sip of beer. “Sure, I’ll come,” you mutter half-heartedly to Taehyung without taking your eyes off Jungkook.

His gaze catches yours from the stage.

You look away.

The crowd roars as Jin takes the mic, yelling out a quick greeting before launching right into their set.

The music is electric, Yoongi's smooth, heavy bass and Jungkook’s crisp, pounding drumming vibrating through your chest as the band plays. You can’t help but let your body move with Jin's voice, nodding your head along as Taehyung sways beside you, the beer in his hand getting lower by the minute.

Halfway through the third song, a guy squeezes his way through the crowd toward you and Taehyung. At first, you don’t think much of it—packed shows like this always mean a little too much physical closeness. But when he stops right next to you, leaning in far closer than necessary, his intentions become annoyingly clear.

“Hey,” he shouts, his voice barely cutting through the music.

You glance at him briefly, tilting your head and pursing your lips before looking back at the stage.

The guy doesn’t get the message—or maybe he doesn’t care. “You here alone?”

You shake your head shortly, keeping your eyes fixed on the stage. “Nope.”

Taehyung notices the exchange but doesn’t intervene, his gaze flicking between you and the guy as he sips his drink.

The guy leans in again, louder this time, more insistent. “You want another drink?”

You roll your eyes, stepping closer to Taehyung. “I’m good,” you say flatly, your tone leaving no room for interpretation.

From the stage, you notice Jungkook’s playing start to shift. His drumming grows heavier, each strike more intense than usual. Your gaze flicks to him, catching the way his eyes keep darting toward your spot in the crowd.

Exhaling through your nose, you swap places with Taehyung in an attempt to move out of the guy’s line of sight. Taehyung’s grin fades into something firmer when he notices.

Taehyung lowers his beer, turning to the guy, his taller frame blocking the dude’s view of you entirely. “You good, man?”

The guy hesitates, visibly weighing his options. He looks like he wants to argue but ultimately decides against it, laughing under his breath before slipping back into the crowd.

Taehyung watches him walk off, shaking his head before leaning closer. “You alright, Y/n?”

You nod, offering a light rub on his arm in thanks, but your attention is already back on Jungkook. He’s still looking, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he watches you.

The last notes of the set fade into a wave of screams as the stage becomes a field of tossed roses and stray undergarments. Jin, as always, makes a show of it, crouching to pick up a red lace bra and biting down on the strap with a cheeky grin. His bandmates laugh as the crowd loses their shit, Yoongi shaking his head as Jin winks into the audience.

They bask in the chaos for a moment longer, waving to the crowd before the elder two begin to slip offstage. Jungkook lingers behind, his hands braced on his knees as he catches his breath. He drags a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back as he straightens to his full height, chest rising and falling in exertion.

Just before he steps off, his eyes find yours. His gaze drags, a quick once-over, a slow run of his tongue over his lip rings, a subtle sniff of his nose. Then he’s gone, following his bandmates backstage.

Taehyung nudges your arm lightly. “Ready?”

You hum, nodding as you start making your way through the crowd, the buzz of energy still heavy in the air. The hallway to the dressing rooms is dim, much quieter than the rest of the venue.

Up ahead, you spot Jin and Yoongi walking a few steps ahead of Jungkook. They’re laughing at something, their figures disappearing around the corner. Jungkook trails behind them, dragging his hand through his hair again, the motion automatic.

Then you see her.

The staff girl from earlier is struggling with a speaker, her grip tight on the handle as she drags it down the hallway. When she glances up and spots Jungkook, her face lights up instantly.

Your steps slow without thinking, your gaze locking on her as she stops beside him. There’s a shy tilt to her smile as she offers him the water bottle balanced on top of the speaker. Jungkook takes it with a murmured thank you, cracking the seal and tipping it back, like he’s barely aware of her lingering.

But she doesn’t move.

She starts talking instead, her pace quickening to match his as he walks. Her cheeks flush slightly as she speaks, her eyes flicking up at him now and then like she’s gauging his mood.

Taehyung shifts beside you, his gaze flickering between you and the scene unfolding a few feet ahead. You can feel his curiosity, but you don’t acknowledge it. Your eyes stay glued to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose head tilts slightly as he glances back at the girl, then forward at his bandmates. You catch the faintest crease in his brow before he slows his steps and eventually stops altogether.

The girl stumbles slightly at his sudden halt, her grip on the speaker slipping. Jungkook’s hands dart out instinctively, but she catches herself before he touches her. He pulls back quickly, murmuring, “You okay?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah. Sorry, I’m such a klutz sometimes,” she replies, her voice flustered.

Your lips press into a thin line as you watch, something sharp curling in your stomach.

He’s not doing anything, you tell yourself. He didn’t even touch her.

But he would’ve if she hadn’t caught herself, a snide voice in the back of your head sneers, cutting through your logic.

You shake off the thought, ignoring the way your chest tightens as Jungkook shifts. His hand brushes over his jaw while she continues speaking, her words softer now.

You don’t hear much after that. It’s not because the hallway is loud—it’s not. It’s the pounding of your pulse in your ears, drowning out everything else.

Jungkook finishes the bottle of water, twisting the cap back on with a quick flick of his wrist. “I gotta go,” he says, lifting the empty bottle as a gesture of thanks before brushing past her.

She hesitates, her hand still on the speaker’s handle as she watches him walk away. Her face burns red, and she fidgets slightly, but eventually, she turns back to her task, dragging the speaker further down the hall.

Your eyes stay fixed on Jungkook as he reaches the dressing room door. His free hand lifts to wipe the sweat from his face with the bottom hem of his shirt, the toned lines of his stomach flashing briefly before the fabric falls back into place. The drumsticks clutched in his other hand tap lightly against the now-empty bottle as he disappears inside.

Taehyung pulls your attention back, rubbing your arm soothingly before nodding toward the door. “You coming?”

You nod quickly, shaking off the haze that lingers as you follow him down the hall.

The dressing room is warm and noisy, Jin and Yoongi sprawled out like they’ve been there for hours. Yoongi greets you with a rare smile, handing you a can of seltzer as you lean down to hug them both. Jin, already halfway through his beer, ruffles your hair affectionately before leaning back into the couch like he’s clocking out for the night.

You drop down beside Jungkook, your usual spot on his lap notably left empty. His brow furrows immediately, the arm around your waist tightening slightly as he tries to pull you closer to him.

“No, J,” you mutter, giving him a pointed look.

He grumbles under his breath, clearly displeased, but his hand slips down to link with yours instead. His thumb brushes idly over your knuckles, and for now, he settles.

The conversation flows around you as Taehyung throws out an invitation to his place. “Jimin’s been baking all day,” he says. “And we’ve still got drinks leftover from the other night.”

It’s an easy yes from everyone. The energy in the room shifts, a slow wind-down as cans and bottles are finished and the band starts getting ready to head out.

When you stand, Taehyung catches your arm, pulling you aside as Jungkook follows, his arm still firmly around your waist. “Hey, just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he says, his head tilted in slight concern.

Jungkook frowns, his gaze falling to your face. “Why wouldn’t she be? Did something happen?”

Taehyung glances at you, waiting for permission before answering. After you shrug and turn to Jungkook, Taehyung speaks. “Some dude wouldn’t leave her alone earlier,” he says simply.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his grip around your waist firming. Your hand squeezes his as you tilt your head at Taehyung. “I’m really okay, Tae, but thank you for looking out for me.”

Taehyung studies you for a moment longer, then nods. “Always.” He pulls you into a quick hug before doing the same with Jungkook. “Jimin’s waiting outside. You guys need a ride back to our place?”

Your gaze shifts to Jungkook. He stays quiet, his tongue working the inside of his cheek, eyes unfocused.

“We’ll come together,” you answer after a beat.

Taehyung nods, flashing you both a smile before heading for the door. The room empties out slowly after that, the others trailing behind Taehyung until it’s just you and Jungkook left in the quiet.

You glance at Jungkook as you shift on your feet. “Do you want me to order an Ub—”

“What did he do?”

You look up, his jaw tight as he stares at you. “That guy,” he starts again, quieter now, his words laced with tension. “Did he do something to you? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“J,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It was nothing. Just some loser.”

He watches you carefully, his eyes searching for something you’re not sure he’ll find. “And you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you nod.

His frown doesn’t relent as he closes the space between you in a few slow steps. His voice dips lower as he murmurs, “Fucking hate seeing guys trying to get with you, Y/n… not knowing you’re mine—”

Your eyes roll before you can stop yourself. “Let’s not do this right now, J.”

His brows pinch. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you bite back, your tone a little sharper. “Especially not when you’ve got bitches crawling all over you, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Baby—”

“No, like this is so fucked, Jungkook. I’m tired of it. You promised me a cute night tonight, and I didn't get it. Fuck you.”

His teeth tug at his lip ring as he shakes his head, ready to apologize again, but you’re not done.

“And what about her? That slutty mic tech or whatever the fuck she is, leaning down with her tits all in your face? Or just so happening to have a fresh bottle of water ready for you backstage? God, don’t.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re jealous—”

“And then you do this!” you whine, throwing your hands up. “I’m tired of it, J. If I’m just another one of your groupies, what the fuck ever. But don’t be surprised when I go find someone who—”

His voice cuts through your rant with a hum. “Someone who what?”

He’s right in front of you now, so close that you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. His eyes flick between yours, waiting for an answer you don’t fucking have.

“You want someone else, baby?” he presses, his voice dropping even further.

Your lips twist, a bratty huff escaping as your frustration crumbles under his intensity. “No, you fucking asshole.”

His head tilts, his lips quirking into something between a smirk and a grin. “No?” he mocks lightly, his tone teasing, coaxing.

“No,” you mumble, quieter this time.

He hums, leaning closer, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger, grazing the side of your face as his gaze softens, his teasing edge dissolving into something heavier.

“And what do you want, baby?”

You blink, your eyes flicking to the thick line of his arm beside your face, his cologne and sweat mixing into something intoxicating. It fills your lungs, dizzying you more than you want to admit.

“You, idiot,” you mumble. “Want you.”

His lips twitch as he leans down, his voice a low hum against your mouth. “Y’wanna be mine, baby?”

Your eyes flutter shut, your body tilting toward him like it’s instinctual. His mouth grazes yours, soft and teasing, like he’s pretending to give you a choice.

But you know better.

There is no choice. It’s him. It’s always been him.

His lips press fully against yours, damp and plush from the way he’s been licking over them all night between backing vocals. You melt into the kiss, your hands slipping under the hem of his shirt to press against the warm, slightly sticky skin of his back. He leans in closer, jaw tilting as his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You keen softly, sucking the muscle between your lips and savoring the low groan he gives in return.

Then you pull back.

His eyes blink open slowly, a haze clouding his dark irises as he stares down at you.

“Do you want that?” you ask softly, tilting your head.

“Do I want you to be mine?” he echoes, his brows lifting slightly, his head shaking like the question is absurd.

You give him a pointed look, nodding just enough to make it bratty.

“I thought you were already mine,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down your dress. His touch is reverent, his gaze dipping over you as a satisfied grunt escapes his lips. “I’m already yours, baby..”

“Just mine,” you lean into his hold, your words brushing against his skin, “nobody else’s…”

“Just yours,” he nods firmly, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours, the softest smile tugging at his lips. “There’s been no one else since you, baby.”

The back of your neck tingles as his pretty nose drags along yours, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your pout before trailing down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His breath is warm, his lips brushing against your skin as he mumbles, “I just didn’t think you wanted the title…”

Your brows pull together, and your hands slide up to cup his face, tugging him back so you can look him in the eye. “I want the title.”

One corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked little smile, his head tilting just enough to press a kiss to your palm. “Okay,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but sure. “Then you can have it, angel.”

A hum of satisfaction escapes you, your hands squeezing his cheeks with a smile. He chuckles softly, leaning back down to steal another kiss, but you pull away before he can reach you.

“Oi,” he grumbles, the faintest pout forming on his lips. “Why? I want a kiss.”

Your hands drop from his face, crossing over your chest as you fix him with a look. “Ask me.”

His eyebrows shoot up, amusement flickering across his features. “What—? I thought we just—”

“No.” You huff, squinting at him as you take a step back, dodging his hands when he reaches for you. “I want the proper thing. I’ve been waiting so long for the girlfriend title. Ask me properly.”

Jungkook stares at you for a moment, his lips twitching as he fights back a groan at your cuteness. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Your squint sharpens, your stance firm despite the way your heart jumps when his lips curve into a grin.

“Aishh,” he chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly before stepping closer. “Y/n,” he starts, voice soft but teasing, “will you be my girlf—”

“Yes!”

You don’t let him finish, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him down to meet your lips, cutting off the surprised huff he lets out. Your arms loop around his neck as you pull him in, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His hands find your waist, steadying you, but you’re already slipping your tongue past his lips, swallowing the low groan he gives.

When you finally pull back for air, your breath is shaky, your lips humming. You stare at him, taking in his swollen mouth and the mess of his hair, his pupils blown wide they almost swallow the brown of his irises. He looks so good it’s almost fucking devastating.

“God, yes,” you murmur, your fingers brushing over his jaw before tugging him back down.

“You’re—okay with this—” Jungkook murmurs between heated kisses, his words coming in low breaths. “Your gap year’s almost over, baby—mmf—the distance… me being gone all the time?”

You pull back just enough to see his face, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His words hit you, and for a moment, all you can do is blink, your mind racing to keep up with the weight of what he’s asking.

“I can do my studies remotely,” you say finally, your voice soft but sure. Your hands slide up his shoulders as you tilt your head, searching his gaze for a hint of doubt. “I can…” You pause, swallowing as your heartbeat kicks up. “Like… travel with you, if you wanted—”

Jungkook surges forward, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that feels like he’s pouring every unspoken thought straight into your mouth. His hands grip your thighs, tugging you closer until your soft body’s pressed tight against him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, voice rough as his mouth moves against yours. The groan he lets out vibrates through you when you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging lightly before letting it slip free. “I had no fucking idea, baby. I would’ve...”

You hum softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your breath coming in quick. “Would’ve what?”

His fingers tighten on the curve of your ass, holding you steady as he leans in, his lips brushing yours. “Would’ve made you mine the first time I fucking took you, baby,” he murmurs, his tongue slipping back into your mouth.

A breathy laugh escapes as you lean into him, your hands threading through the damp strands of his hair. “So... the first night we met?” you tease, your voice swallowed by his eager mouth.

“Pretty much,” he chuckles against your lips, his tone low and sinful as his hands drop to the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up easily. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, and he carries you the few steps to the couch, dropping down with you prettily perched in his lap.

His lips find yours again, hungrier, wetter. His tongue pushes into your mouth, licking deep into you, chasing the tang of raspberry seltzer still lingering on your tongue. His hands roam higher, sliding over the fabric of your dress, fingertips pressing as they search for skin.

Without breaking the kiss, your fingers fumble with the little zip at the front of your jacket, the metallic sound making him pause. Jungkook leans back just slightly, his gaze dropping to your hands as you slide the zipper down. His tongue darts over his lip as the fabric falls away, leaving your corset-top barely holding your tits in place.

“Fuck,” he breathes, the word guttural. His eyes trail over your exposed skin, his hands moving on instinct to pull the hem of your dress down. The fabric drops, and your breasts spill free into his waiting hands, his thumbs eagerly brushing over your hardened nipples.

His mouth surges forward, latching onto your left nipple with a deep groan. He exhales through his nose, the sound almost a sigh, like his whole body just relaxed the second he had you in his mouth.

“God,” you whimper, your hips rolling against the bulge in his jeans, your hands gripping the back of his neck as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he grunts around your nipple, his wide tongue swirling over the peak before sucking gently. “These fucking tits,” he mutters, his voice thick as his hands knead the soft flesh. “Big, juicy fucking tits. All fucking mine, yeah?”

“Mmmh,” you whine, grinding harder as your fingers tug at the ends of his long hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. “All yours, Jungkookie. Always been yours.”

His cock twitches beneath you at the nickname, and his eyes flick up to your face. He coos through his mouthful before gently switching to your other bud.

“All mine,” he mumbles, the words muffled as he chews softly on your hard nipple, pulling a breathy moan from your lips. His big hands press your tits together, bringing them closer to his face, and he pulls back slightly to hum. “All daddy’s, isn’t that right, angel?”

“Nnnm,” you whine, your hips stuttering against him as the teasing tone has you clenching around nothing. “Yes, daddy. All yours. No one else’s.”

“Mm, that’s my girl.” His tongue flicks over your nipple one last time, pulling a soft gasp from your lips before his hand slides up to the front of your throat.

He brings you back down to his mouth, your tongues meeting immediately, wet and eager. His grip stays steady on your neck, thumb brushing softly along the sides as your hands bury deeper into his hair. The roll of your hips against his lap matches the rhythm of the kiss, each grind pulling a quiet groan from his throat that vibrates into your mouth.

The room is silent save for the wet, slick sounds of your lips and the rustle of your dampening panties against his jeans. Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around your neck, and you lean into it, moaning lowly when he catches your tongue between his teeth.

You pull back, your breaths uneven as you take hold of the wrist still resting at your throat, guiding it away. Your eyes meet his as you bring his hand to your lips, your tongue flicking over the tips of his middle fingers before sucking them into your mouth. No reason, really. Because you want to. Becaue you can.

Jungkook’s gaze stays heavy on you, his lids low as his tongue drags over his lip. You release his fingers with a soft pop, and he licks the remnants of your saliva from his hand when you let go.

Sliding off his lap, you reach for the zipper of his jeans, pulling it down with haste. You shimmy the denim over his hips, just far enough to bare his briefs. His cock presses against the black fabric, hard and thick, the sight alone making your stomach rumble.

Leaning down, you brush your lips over the length of him, the heat of his cock radiating through the cotton. A soft, hungry hum slips from you, and Jungkook groans quietly, his head tipping back against the couch.

One of his hands moves to the cushion beside him, the other slipping into your hair, brushing it back as you mouth over his covered cock.

Your hand slides under the waistband of his briefs, your lip catching between your teeth as his warm, hard length pulses against your palm. You pull him free, savoring the low curse that slips from his lips when you guide it to your lips and take the thick tip into your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” he huffs, his hips lifting slightly as your tongue swirls over the head.

“That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough and breathy. “Get it nice and wet for daddy. Go on, baby.”

Your eyelids feel heavy as you obey, pushing spit to the front of your mouth and soaking his tip in it. The slick sound fill the quiet room, mixing with Jungkook’s sharp breaths and the low grunts slipping from his lips.

Your tongue moves slowly, wetting him nice and thoroughly, and his fingers twitch where they hold your hair out of your face. His head tips back further, a deep groan escaping as his hips up rock into your mouth on instinct.

Your lips work sloppily over his length as you take him deeper, your hand pumping the base as he groans low in his chest. “Good girl, baby,” he mutters, his fingers brushing the curve of your jaw as he watches you, his lashes heavy. “Such a good fucking girl.”

The praise makes you ache, the wetness pooling between your legs unbearable. Jungkook seems to sense it, his hand wrapping around your arm to pull you off him with a wet pop. His lips are on yours the moment you’re upright, licking into your mouth like he’s chasing his own taste on your tongue.

You melt against him, humming softly as his hands cup your waist, guiding you back until your spine presses into the couch. He hovers over you, his bigger frame warm between your parted thighs. Your boots dig into the cushions on either side of him, but he doesn’t care. Neither do you.

Jungkook’s hands are hasty as he pushes the fabric of your dress up your thighs, exposing the black lace stretched over your dripping core. His adam’s apple bobs as he hums, his thumb brushing over the darkened patch where your slick has seeped through.

“So pretty, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his tattooed thumb firmly against you. The friction makes you gasp, your hips jerking toward his hand.

The lace doesn’t last long. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls it down just enough to expose you, wasting no time before dipping down. His mouth latches onto your pussy in one go, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flying to his hair. The heat of his mouth is overwhelming, his tongue teasing your swollen clit before dragging down to press at your entrance. He groans as he tastes you, sucking your folds into his mouth like a greedy fuck.

You whimper when his teeth graze your clit, his tongue circling the bud before flicking over it repeatedly. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against your pussy fills the room, and your hips buck against his face—

“Uh… J-Jungkook?”

You freeze, your eyes snapping to the door as your blood runs cold.

There is no fucking way.

Jungkook doesn’t stop. If anything, his movements grow greedier, his mouth slurping noisily at your cunt as though he didn’t hear a thing.

You bite back a moan when the bitch's voice comes again, shaky and hesitant. “Sorry, uh… your friends got you a driver, and it’s—uh—can you hear me? Should I come in?”

Your hand tightens in Jungkook’s hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole. “Tell her to fuck off,” you gasp, your voice pitching higher when his lips close around your clit. “Jung- fuck- Jungkook.”

He hums into your pussy, the vibration shooting through you as his tongue drags lower. “You do it, baby,” he murmurs, the words muffled by your slick folds. His lips press deeper you as he mumbles. “Tell her your boyfriend’s busy, hm?”

Jungkook’s mouth doesn’t falter, his jaw working as he fits as much of you into his mouth as he can, lips wrapping around your folds while his tongue drags over your clit. His jaw moves, sucking and licking, pulling sinful sounds from your throat like it’s his final fucking mission.

His hand fumbles to the side of the couch, searching for something, but you barely register it through the haze of pleasure. “Jungkook, seriously—”

The girl’s voice cuts through again, louder this time. “Uh, I don’t know if you can hear me, so I’m going to come in—”

Before the words fully register, you feel it. The slick, cool tip of a drumstick sliding into your cunt.

“Fuck!” The cry rips from your throat, loud and uncontrollable as your back arches off the couch. The stretch is sharp, sudden, but it has your toes curling, pleasure overtaking every thought as your grip tightens on his hair.

The sound outside the door ceases instantly, but you couldn’t give a fuck less.

Jungkook doesn’t stop, his tongue relentless as it flicks over your clit, fast and precise, his lips drenched as they lap at your soaked pussy. He glances up, watching you through his lashes, his big eyes dark as he gauges your reaction.

He’s slipped plenty of things inside you before—his fingers, his cock, even the handle of a vibrator… but never this. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a fantasy of his, something he’d thought about during one too many late-night practices when you were at home and he was missing you.

“That okay, baby?” he murmurs with a mouth full of pussy. His long fingers grip the drumstick firmly, holding it still, not pushing deeper until you give the green light. His thumb brushes the edge of your clit, adding another layer of friction as his tongue continues its work. “Gonna let daddy fuck you with it, baby?”

“Yesss,” you whine, your head lolling against the couch. Your thighs tremble around his head as you pant, the word spilling from your lips like a fucking prayer. “Yes, please, daddy. God, I fucking want it, baby, please.”

Jungkook groans into your cunt as he presses the drumstick deeper, the slick glide making your legs quake. His tongue continues it's soft, wet work against your clit, a little slower as he eases the stick into your hole.

He works it in deeper, his pace quickening with every breathy moan that falls from your lips. The smooth wood glides in and out of your pussy with ease, covered in your juices everytime it pulls out, and the angle he’s hitting has your back arching into his mouth, your thighs trembling around his head.

“Fuckk,” you gasp, your nails scratching into the couch, desperate for something to hold onto as the thin stick brushes your g-spot. “Fuck, daddy—”

He groans against you, his lips dragging over your clit before his tongue flicks faster and faster. “That good, baby?” He hums, “daddy making you feel good, hm?”

“So fucking gooodd,” you cry, your chest heaving, your hips chasing the movements of his hand as he thrusts the drumstick faster. Your walls clamp around it as your head spins, tears welling in your eyes.

Jungkook gives one more slurp before pulling back just enough to catch your fucked-out expression. His lips glisten with your slick, hair messy from your tugging. “Want the other one, baby?” he asks, voice honeyed with mockery as his thumb brushes over your clit.

You whimper without hesitation, your thighs clenching around his head. “Fuck, please, daddy. Please.”

“Mmm,” he hums in satisfaction, his tongue dragging a long, wet stripe over your clit as he reaches for the second stick.

You barely have a moment to prepare before the second one presses into you, your toes curling as he works it in beside the first. “Oh my fuck,” you choke, your head falling back against the couch.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches as he watches you, his hands tight around the sticks as he thrusts them together, slow at first, then faster. And faster.

His greedy mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping at your clit, wet and messy, the dirty, soppy sounds of his lips and the squelch of your pussy taking the drumsticks echoing in the room.

“Fuck,” you moan, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your hips buck into his mouth. “Gonna fucking cum, daddy. So—fuck, uhhhhh!”

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his lips wrapping around your swollen bud, sucking hard as he thrusts the drumsticks relentlessly into you. “Show that bitch who’s daddy’s girl, huh? Gonna cum on my tongue? On my drumsticks? ‘Cause only you can, huh baby? My fucking baby.”

Your whole body seizes at his words, your head snapping back as a strangled cry rips from your throat. Your vision blacks out, your body trembling violently as the orgasm rips through you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you sob, your walls clenching hard around the sticks as wetness gushes out, soaking his hand, his mouth, the couch beneath you. Jungkook groans loudly, his lips glued to your clit as he sucks you through it, his tongue flicking over the nub as you writhe beneath him.

“That’s my fucking girl,” Jungkook groans, his voice thick as he leans in for one last lick, dragging his tongue slowly up your pretty slit. He pulls back just enough to watch your pussy twitch, glistening and flushed, clenching around the sticks as you whimper weakly.

“Jungkookie,” you manage through trembling breaths, your body trembling under his heavy gaze. “Th-thank you, fuck.”

He hums against you, his big eyes darting up to meet yours as his lips curl into a satisfied smirk. “Any fucking time, baby, shitt.”

You shudder as he finally eases the drumsticks out of you, slick dripping from the tips as your thighs twitch. You watch through hooded eyes as he raises them to his lips, sucking your wetness off, the hollow of his throat bobbing at the sweet taste. Once clean, he tosses them carelessly to the side, licking over his lips as his gaze drops back down to your wrecked cunt.

“Messy girl,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing as his fingers trace over the sticky mess between your thighs.

Your eyes fall lower, catching the tip of his cock peeking out from the waistband of his briefs, red and dripping. Your breath catches, your hands instinctively sliding up his arms, tracing the ink there as your gaze stays locked on it.

Jungkook notices, his tongue running over his swollen lips as he chuckles. “You want it, baby?”

You swallow hard, your eyes flicking up to meet his through your lashes. “Please, daddy.”

He groans softly at the way you look at him, nodding before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s so wet, everything is wet as your lips part to welcome his tongue when he licks into your mouth, giving you every bit of the taste of yourself. You suck greedily on his tongue, and he groans low in his chest, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer.

Your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, holding him as he reaches down between you, adjusting his briefs and pulling himself free. He pulls back slightly to look down as he drags the tip of his cock through your soaking folds, catching on your clit.

“Need to fuck you so bad, baby,” he mutters, his voice rasping with need. “Need you to feel how much I fucking love you.”

Your breath hitches, your hands tightening around his neck as his words hang between you. His cock stills against your entrance once he realizes what he just said, his head snapping up.

“You love me?” you whisper, your voice quiet as your gaze flicks between his eyes.

He blinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. Then, with a soft nod, he admits it. "So much, baby."

You beam, your face breaking into the brightest smile, and it’s enough to make his chest swell. You tug him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a wet, giddy kiss.

His lips are soft against yours, but the way he kisses you is anything but. It’s raw as his tongue slides against yours, his hands tightening around your waist, pouring himself into you.“I love you, J. Holy shittt, baby!!”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face as he smiles, his lips red and swollen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, so fucking giddy, your hands cradling his face as you lean up to kiss him again. “Now fuck me, please.”

He chuckles, the sound low and sweet before leaning down to press a kiss to your neck. His lips brush against your skin as he shifts, lining himself back up with your entrance.

The moment he pushes in, your breath catches. The stretch burns so good as he sinks into you slowly, his cock thick and pulsing, the loud, slick sound of your arousal filling the room as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his head falling forward as his hands grip your thighs. “So fucking wet, baby. You fucking feel that?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you adjust to the fullness. “So full, Jungkookie.”

He groans at the sound of his name, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward, a little harder this time. You gasp, your back arching into him as he sets a slow, deep pace, every thrust hitting you delicious and deep.

“So fucking good, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with praise. “So perfect for me. Take me so well, always.”

Your hands find his hair, tugging at the strands as your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He takes the opportunity, his lips finding your skin, sucking at the flesh as his thrusts grow faster.

The wet sounds of your bodies moving together, the squelch of your pussy soaking him, his breathy groans and your desperate moans— they drown out every other thought.

“Fuck, Jungkookie,” you cry out, your legs locking tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Y-yes, yes, oh my goddd.”

He grunts low in his chest, his pace quickening as he chases your high, each thrust hitting your g-spot with reckless precision. “That’s it, baby,” he rasps, his voice rough and wrecked, eyes glued to the way your tits bounce with every snap of his hips. “Cum for your boyfriend. C'mon. Show me how much you fucking love me.”

“Fuck, baby—fuck!” your voice breaks into a high-pitched whine, the sound desperate as your nails dig into the sweaty shirt stretched over his back. “Gonna fuckingg cummm, baby. God, fuck—fuck—”

You shatter around him, your orgasm crashing over you in a sore wave, your body shaking as your pussy clamps down on his cock. Jungkook groans, his lips finding yours to swallow your cries as his thrusts don’t relent, driving you through every pulse.

“Gonna take my cum, baby?” he grits out against your lips, your head tipping back as his breath fans over your sweaty skin. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs, keeping you locked in place. “Huh? Gonna take it all ‘cause you love me so fucking much, yeah?”

“Y-yes, baby,” you sob, your body jerking from the oversensitivity as he keeps pushing deeper and deeper. “I fucking love you, Jungkookie—please, give it to me. Give it, baby. Fucking give it!”

A deep, guttural curse spills from his lips as he stills, his cock buried deep as his release hits. Warmth floods your hole as he fills you, every drop making you whimper, your legs trembling around him. His forehead drops to your neck, his damp hair sticking to your skin as he pants heavily.

“God, I fucking love you,” he mutters, his voice thick as he presses his lips to your collarbone. “Never gonna get over saying that.”

“My sappy boyfriend,” you tease, your fingers threading through his sweaty hair, scratching softly at his scalp as he groans into your skin. “Who would’ve thought?”

Jungkook lifts his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he gives you a look. You smile sweetly, dragging a finger across his swollen lips as you snicker. “I love you too, daddy.”

[hoshigray]

reader flirting with some random guy for toji to fuck her senseless 🙏🙏🙏😭😭 really mean and sadistic toji with a really submissive reader

sorry for tbe filth im ltierally dying i want that man so bad

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: fuck yessssssss!! lmao not me writing this in a day

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: hard dom! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - rough sex - Daddy kink - choking - spitting - impact play; spanking - degradation (bitch, cumslut, fuckhole, slut, whore) - minimal praise - missionary + backshots/leapfrog positions - dumbification - pinching - pet names (baby, good girl, mama) - Toji is a bit mean here - mention of blood and drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

Toji didn’t like what he was seeing. 

You knew better, yet you still misbehaved. 

Your boyfriend sees you from across the pub, mingling with some random guy at the bar top. You were smiling and laughing at the dude’s jokes, prompting the man to treat you to some drinks. To say that the display left a sour taste in Toji’s mouth would be an understatement, especially with how you would place your hands on the chump’s arm or lean into him to rest your head. How brazen of you. 

Oh, but what really sealed the deal for him would be the occasional glances you’d throw his way. Your eyes honed on him briefly with a mischievous smile to complete the look before you went to your business — you knew what you were doing. And it made the older man’s brow twitch, rich green eyes observing your every move.

Just wait til’ we get home, brat. That’s all he can think of as you deliberately flaunt your autonomy. Because the moment you have your purposeful fun and return to Toji’s side, ready to go home, he takes you without a word. He doesn’t have to say anything, letting what will happen once you step inside the house speak for itself. 

“—Ahhch!! Fuhucck!! Harder, Daddy, harder…!”

Have you ever been choked while being fucked into like a toy? That’s the treatment you’re receiving as you lie on the bed, Toji’s tough, calloused hands wrapped around your throat to restrict your breathing while he pistons his cock into you with inhumane force. 

“Harder, they say,” he chuckles. “Who told you can boss me ‘round, huh?” His hold on your throat gets tighter, and the limitation of air becomes hard to avoid while turning you on even more with the clamp of your walls around his fat dick. “You got some nerve, actin’ like a real fuckin’ slut tonight, huh?”

The snap of his hips makes it difficult to respond to him appropriately, his girth stretching your insides so euphorically, and the scrape of your g-spot has you shaking. Fuck, it felt so fucking good, so rewarding to be used like this!

“Hahh…To’jii—Ehhck!!”

“Wrong name, whore.” His eyes narrowed, hands getting tighter and tighter that his fingernails pierced your skin, the pain adding to the suffocation.

Your watery orbs roll to the top of your head as dizziness creeps in. “Dad–dyy, I…can’t brea…” your lips agape, trying to gather whatever air you can. 

Toji sees your open mouth, and with a wicked snicker, he spits into it. Your eyes widen instantly, but Toji uses one hand to squeeze your cheeks roughly. “Swallow,” he demands with a dark glint in his eyes. There’s a bit of a struggle, yet he senses you gulp his saliva down from the bob of your throat, and a shiver crawls down his spine when you show your clean mouth. “That’s a good girl…”

Don’t get blinded easily because he is not finished with you yet. 

He’ll have your back faced to him, face down to the sheets, and butt up for him to plow. His hands keep your lower half to him at all times, rutting his pelvis so hard to your wet cunt that it rocks you against the mattress. Your asscheeks rebound with every smack of his hips, taking your breath away. 

“Ooooh, hoooh, mmaahhh!” There is no way you could even make out a proper sentence, Toji grinding into your soapy slit has you shrieking from his cockhead grazing those sweet spots your could never reach. 

Unbeknownst to you, the older man surprises you with a hard slap to your ass. The action pulls you out of your daze for a split second to scream, and your vagina inherently contracts onto his length. He hisses, “Hssshhiit, baby, fuckin’ grippin’ on me and making so much damn noise like a bitch in heat...Hey, I’m talkin’ to you.” Another smack to your butt for not responding to him, prompting a rushed wail to leave your lips. “Heh, damn slut, can’t even talk to me; all you’re thinking about is my dick, right?” He slowly pulls his cock back to hear your whining, a salacious grin grows by the inch when he snaps the limb back inside your warmth, and you grip the sheets. “Mmmph, fuck, this pussy is too crazy…”

Another slap to your butt makes you tremble and twitch, peering over your shoulder to look at the man behind you. Jesus, he looked so hot the way he was drilling his dick into you. The sounds of skin slapping against each other brings the room to life. “—Fuuahh, haahnn, Daddyyy…!”

The raven-haired man notices you observing him, chuckling before placing a hand on your head to smoosh it back down to the sheets. “Who the fuck told ya to look over here?” He strikes your ass once more, his fingertips stinging crescents into your hot skin. He's so rough with you that you know there will be blood from those scratches.

The weight of his hand on your head feels so strong, unable to move as his entire brawny frame has you submit to his bow. “Daddyyyy, ohh fuuuck,” you mewl for him to hear. “It shfeels sho g’ood…!” God, you sound so fucking stupid. Your brain dissolves into mush, and your body corrupted by his powerful dominance. “God, it sh’o gooood! Give me more, pleaseee!!” 

“There they go asking for more, fuckin’ fuckhole,” he groans under his breath, grinding his pelvis to your chasm to listen to your sweet begs for pleasure. “Easy there, mama; I’ll give ya what ya want...Hgghh…You wanna cum for Daddy again, right?”

Drool streams down from your lips to stain the sheets beneath. “Yesshhh, yes pleaseee…! Ohhh!” He slaps and pinches your asscheeks again; Good Lord, his strikes were not meant for the weak. 

“Then stay still, look all pretty, and keep wringin’ me out like the cumslut you are, got it?” You babble more sounds of agreement, thoughtless on whether they are actual words. You amuse him to remove his hand from your head and back to your hips, propelling you to stick to him again as his hips strike your ass with a hungry vigor.

“That’s my girl…”

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[beardedjoel]

ride

joel x f!reader

request: "prone, leaving a hickey on their neck, in a truck bed" sent in as part of my 5k celebration! or you try to grapple with feelings for your parents' friend while getting absolutely railed by him 🤠 6.5k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (unspecified but college age reader and it's said that joel is over twice her age), oral f receiving, unprotected piv, pr0ne b0ne, creampie, hickeys, dirty talk and pet names, bit of daddy kink (sue me okay), angsty feelings, alcohol, reader has a mom and dad and clothing is described (shorts and t-shirt).

a/n: saw this prompt and instantly loved the visual! such a fun one to write, and i got weirdly caught up in these two having history and a bit of angst so it ended up way longer than i anticipated (aaand everybody is thinking we are not surprised julie couldn't shut up).

Today had you on edge, taking in your surroundings more dutifully, fearing the rounding of corners on campus in case you’d run into him. You try to pretend you don’t want to see him, but can’t deny the sinking feeling in your stomach as you arrive for your shift that evening without having any chance encounters. You hate that you’re imagining how one would go as you wait on your tables, how you’d pretend you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of him also being on campus for parents weekend. Casual. It was totally, completely casual - the same sentiment you’d been trying to convince yourself of for months.

His daughter Sarah is only a year younger than you and ended up at the same university a couple of hours from your hometown. You’d played little league soccer together for a few years as kids, and your parents became much faster friends with Joel than you and Sarah ever did. 

Despite Chip’s Bar & Grille being located off campus, it doesn't seem immune to the influx of people due to parents weekend as you weave through your tables, a sweat breaking out on your neck. Your asshole of a boss - the Chip of Chip’s Bar and Grille - never quite learned how to keep the temperature comfortable in here for the workers. He’d also declined your request to have tonight off to spend with your parents - too many other coworkers of yours had the same idea as you with people’s parents being in town, apparently. You know he also simply just enjoyed telling people no.

You plaster on a fake grin as you carry a tray of beers over to a rowdier group of men, probably here to watch Friday Night Football or something, judging by their team spirited paraphernalia. They’re already a few drinks deep, getting increasingly more bold with their commentary towards you, but it’s nothing you haven’t dealt with here before. You easily brush it off, navigating your way through their charged remarks with grace and sweet looks that should only boost your tips, letting the act drop dramatically as soon as you walk away from them.

Karina, the hostess - a sweet girl around your age - flits up to you, buzzing information in your ear. “Table 19 just got sat. Said it’s your parents, I think?”

You smile to yourself - it’s thoughtful that your parents would brave the greasy, unappetizing food at Chip’s just to see you twelve hours earlier than planned. They instantly glow and warm up at the sight of you, looking slightly out of place but nothing short of comfortable. They were the type of people that could adapt nearly anywhere.

“Hey, honey!” your mom trills, hugging you tight, pressing the slightly damp t-shirt you’re wearing into your back. 

“Sorry. Sweaty,” you warn her too late, getting a chuckle in your ear. Your dad squeezes you tightly next, and when they go to sit down, you notice with confusion that Karina has placed three menus on the table. 

Your eyes snap up to the front door just in time to see a familiar, broad form step into the fray, weaving his way through the bodies and tables. His eyes scan across the restaurant - dark and brooding as always - then land on you, standing tall above where most people are seated at their respective tables. Your stomach leaps, leaving your breath caught in your throat, him letting his lip twitch into some semblance of a smile - or a smirk, rather, given how haughty he looks right now.

For that brief second, it’s only the two of you in this bustling, noisy room, before the bubble bursts and he stalks over to you and your parents. It’s only then his eyes are torn off of yours, leaving you breathless and confused. And angry.

“Oh, good, already got us a table. Parkin’ was weirdly a nightmare out there,” he says, smooth and silky, announcing his presence. With one more flicker of his eyes to yours just before your mom pops up to hug him, blocking you from view, you see the mischievous amusement behind them. He’s enjoying the fact that he’s caught you off guard, that you’re flustered by his mere presence alone.

Yeah, angry sounds right. Joel Miller: certified prick.

After the fuss settles down, your parents explain they ran into Joel at a cafe when they got to campus this morning while you were still in class. Being their gracious, hospitable selves, they’d promptly invited him to come out to dinner with them tonight to catch up. Just your luck.

“The rest was history. Joel seemed awful happy to get to see you too, know it’s been a while,” your dad happily and obliviously trills. 

You’ll bet he seemed happy.

Joel moves in for an embrace, and you stiffen before feeling his meaty, thick arms draping around you, the warmth of his chest pressing closer, his breathing in your ear. Everything feels lit up inside of you, sparks skittering across your skin. You beg your knees not to buckle, reminding yourself that refusing to hug him begs more questions than you’d like from your parents. You try not to melt into the familiarity of it when your arms fling around his neck, try to keep it… casual. The word bites at you, stinging deeper each time you try to convince yourself of its place in this relationship. 

“Hey there, sunshine. How you been?” he mutters in his slow, sweet drawl. You can’t help but smile at your favorite pet name he’s had for you for years, wishing to wipe it off your face as he pulls back and sees it. There’s a returned softness there beneath all his amused loftiness. 

“G-good. Good,” you manage to stammer out. “How’s the business… How's Sarah?” 

You watch on as Joel stays planted right in front of you, the moment lingering longer than necessary or normal. You watch him have the same realization, clearing his throat and turning to pull out his chair, sitting down.

“Good,” he echoes you, smiling softly. “And good. Girl’s too busy with friends to see her old man tonight, though. Stuck with these two now.” He jabs a thumb in the direction of your parents. 

The dig gets a hoot out of your mom, her hand playfully nudging him. The noise of her balking breaks you out of your reverie where your eyes had been plastered on his features, begging them to tell you anything. 

You suck your lip between your teeth, blinking a few times to snap yourself out of this haze. You’d wanted this, hadn’t you? A chance to run into Joel, knowing that parents weekend would likely bring him this way. It’s too much, too… intense, to see him in your workplace, somehow merging his life with the one you lived separately from him. Back home the two of you had been on equal footing, but now he invaded your space, the places you were able to go to get away from whatever this was, to get away from him.

“I - I’ll go check on my tables. You guys decide what you want to order and I’ll come back. And I’ll talk to Chip about a family discount, or something.”

Your dad insists it’s not necessary before you scurry away, but you ask anyway. Chip unsurprisingly argues with you, huffing and puffing and generally being the asshole that he is. 

“You want a discount for your family? And where’s that money gonna come from? Maybe from your tips tonight? Would that work for you? Hm?”

“Forget it, Chip.” Muttered under your breath, you roll your eyes, feeling dejected as he stalks off to likely terrorize someone else or put on his fake schmoozing act with a loyal customer. 

When you glance back at your parents across the room, Joel’s eyes are on yours, intense and questioning. They burn into you, making you immediately turn away, trying to hide the glistening of tears from Chip’s beratement. It’s dumb, really. He’s always this big of an asshole. You aren’t sure why you expected anything other than his default or a single generous thing from him.

After pulling it together enough to do the rounds on your tables, you stop back to take your parents’ and Joel’s orders. Joel seems like he’s stewing, his energy quiet and distracted as he glances down at the menu, ordering a cheeseburger with a distant voice.

It’s not until you’re off at the point of sales system tapping in their orders that a presence sidles up beside you, the voice deep and hushed.

“That your boss there? The one lookin’ like he’s got somethin’ shoved up his ass?”

You do a slow turn to peer at Joel incredulously, glancing around as if you’re caught in a compromising position. You suppose maybe you are, but at least your parents are out of view from where you’re tucked back in the little hallway leading to the restrooms. It’s cramped back here with the service station, leaving Joel’s body close to yours.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you hiss, instead of answering his question.

“It’s not a crime to go to the bathroom,” he quips back. “Answer me.”

“What? You’re gonna beat him up?” You give Joel a pointed look before focusing back on the screen, punching in your dad’s Dr. Pepper.

“No, jus’ wanna know why a boss is out here makin’ his employees cry.”

“I wasn’t crying. He - he’s just an asshole. And why do you care? You’re not my -” you cut yourself off, shaking your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s fine. I promise. Please just… why are you here, Joel?”

“Havin’ dinner with your parents.”

You have to force in a deep, calming breath before sighing it out. “You like this. Surprising me, catching me off guard. You’re the one being an ass now.”

Joel visibly softens at your stressed demeanor. “It’s also not a crime to want to see you, y’know. And have some fun trippin’ you up along the way. I didn’t realize -”

Your eyes linger on his face for a long, quiet moment, burning with frustration and contempt and something deeper you won’t allow yourself to access. “I’ve got to get back to work,” you say, concluding the conversation as you snap the notebook containing your orders shut and push away from the computer. You brush past Joel’s shoulder, turning to glance back at him.

“It is nice to see you,” you utter, half hoping he can’t hear it over the bustle of the restaurant. When his lips twist to the side in a lopsided smile, you know he did.

“You too.”

Joel seems to behave the rest of the evening, paying the proper, appropriate amount of attention to you, treating you like the family friend that you are and nothing more. Just as it should be, you remind yourself every time a pang of sadness pulses through your chest.

When they pay and leave, you breathe a sigh of relief, working the rest of your shift with an odd buzzing in your head, picturing Joel’s tanned skin and rugged lines. The memory of the feeling of his body close to yours in that hallway makes you shudder, then curse yourself.

A mixture of disappointment and irritation worms its way into your mind as you realize that was your chance. That was the time you got to spend with Joel this weekend, when he was so close within your grasp. He’d be busy tomorrow, spending time with Sarah, letting her tote him around campus - showing him where she takes her classes, her favorite places to eat, her dorm that is likely decorated with purple accents and posters of her favorite bands.

You’d missed the opportunity to actually see him, too busy being pissed at him for existing in your sacred space, for never leaving you alone no matter how hard you tried to get him out of your head. You never knew when the next time would come around - even if you were back home, time spent around Joel was never guaranteed. Nor was it appropriate.

You worry your lip into oblivion, realizing it’s for the best, anyways, as you push the back door to the bar open after your shift, letting the cool night air greet your grimy, post work skin. You go to round the building, heading for the bus stop on the main street that will take you exactly twenty five minutes and eleven stops back to your dorm.

A voice cuts in, seeming to come from the darkness itself. “You always wear shorts that short to work?”

God damn it. You flinch and then press your lips together, slowly turning your head to the corner of the parking lot, following the gruff, familiar voice. You see Joel leaning against the front of his truck, arms crossed over his chest. He’s half illuminated by the streetlamps placed periodically across the asphalt, casting long shadows on him. The blue flannel he wears is stretched tightly over his arms, the sleeves rolled up to reveal those forearms that make you feel more than you’d ever care to admit. 

“Better tips,” you reply, nonchalant. You adjust your bag on your shoulder, walking over to him. You stop short, giving a wide berth between the two of you, attempting to avoid the always inevitable pull you feel towards him.

“That so?” he says, sounding amused. Joel lets his eyes roam up from your feet, scanning your bare legs, drinking you in all the way up your chest until his gaze rests on your face where it softens. He’s obvious about it, not caring to hide the lust that lives between the two of you now that you’re alone.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, feeling like a broken record. You watch as he turns and starts walking to the back of the truck. You peer around to see the bed is open, staunchly crossing your arms and not following him.

“Thought I’d give you a ride home,” Joel throws over his shoulder.

“What if I had my own car here?”

“You don’t,” he punches out. “Parents told me they hate you takin’ the bus so late.”

You quietly groan to yourself. Of course they did.

“And I thought you could use one of these after a long shift,” Joel adds on, proudly holding up a six pack of cheap, generic beer, strung together by plastic loops. You give him a sardonic laugh, finally giving in and making your way to the back of the truck. Joel has it parked with the bed facing the far corner of the parking lot, looking directly into the thicket of trees beyond that separates Chip’s from the McDonald’s behind it. It’s late, the lot nearly empty and the businesses around you all quieted down for the night. Some kind of thickness hangs in the air, otherworldly and separating you from reality, pressing in on you to be so alone with Joel.

“Aren’t you driving?” you ask, brows raised. 

“Ain’t for me. It’s for you.”

“Miller Lite,” you say, gesturing to the six pack. “Clever. And disgusting.”

He smirks, tearing one out of its loop and handing it to you. It’s chilled, but not cold, and you nearly grimace. You don’t even like beer, but being around Joel still makes you nervous so you crack it open, listening to the little click of the pull tab and ensuing fizzy noise from the liquid inside, then take a long swig. 

“Attagirl,” Joel comments passively. Your heart flutters at the small praise and you peer at him, doelike, from over the can, hoping your eyes don’t give you away. Of course they do, they always do. You look down, shuffling your feet, clad in your black, non slip work sneakers.

His hand is hesitant, reaching out to you from where he now leans against the open truck bed, clasping around your wrist with a gentle authority. It tugs you, forcing you to take a step towards him.

“Joel…” you warn, still unable to bring your eyes up. You know if you do, you’ll fold.

“Hm?” he rasps, moving you closer still. Joel’s legs and feet come into view, thighs thick and meaty in their denim, his work boots dirty and scuffed. It made something inside of you flutter again, these details about him. You liked his mess and his manliness, the way he didn’t give a shit if his shoes were dirty, but that they were functional. You like his worn denim with the outline of his wallet seared into the back pocket from too much use. You like… him.

“Come sit,” he begs of you, and despite your best efforts, you’re unable to resist. You hop up onto the back of the truck, letting your feet dangle while taking another sip of crappy beer. He pulls himself up next to you, and leans closer, knuckles brushing along your neck, making you shiver. It’s heavenly and electric, everything you’d craved and missed and wanted, never able to stop thinking about these calloused hands and the man they’re attached to.

“We… we can’t do this again,” you force yourself to utter, fiddling with the pull tab on the can held in your lap.

Joel’s hand freezes. “You got a college boyfriend now or somethin’?” he spits out, unable to hide the greed from his voice.

“No…” you admit.

“Alright, why not then?”

“We just… shouldn’t.”

“Y’weren’t sayin’ that over winter break. Or durin’ Thanksgiving, or the summer before that when I was fuckin’ myself deep inside of you, lettin’ you call me your daddy,” he drawls out lazily, continuing to softly revere your neck with his hands, slowly moving to your shoulder and back, fishing underneath the collar of your branded Chip's tee shirt to find bare skin. 

You swallow hard, feeling your cheeks blazing at the memories of how caught up in it you’d gotten. “I - I don’t think…”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Just don’t think.”

You finally dare a flash of your gaze to his, finding his eyes dark and wanting. “Joel…” you plead again, unsure of how to express anything else. “This isn’t… right. Who you are to me, my parents. You know that, right?”

He licks his lips and nods, moving in close and ghosting them over your neck. Your eyes roll back, your touch-starved, needy body begging you for more. “Torture myself over it all the damn time, pretty girl,” he rasps right next to your ear.

“Then why did you come here tonight?” you ask in a lusty whisper as his lips attach to your skin, sucking softly. Your breath catches in your throat, fighting a whine.

“I don’t know. I jus’... did,” he says earnestly, sounding pained. “I wanted it. Didn’t care ‘bout the rest. I wanted to see you, just us.”

Your heart pitter patters in your chest, that pesky, squeezing feeling of it that always takes over around Joel pulling taut. You know he doesn’t mean it, that he doesn’t want you. He wants what you offer - your body, your naïveté to stay involved in this, your company when he’s lonely. It was hard to say just how Joel felt about you, because he’d never dare say it out loud for fear of making this too real. 

His scent invades you - musky and something fresh and nature inspired, pine maybe - and you feel yourself folding in real time.

“Joel…” you warn one last time without any resolve behind it, eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzles into your neck. You want this. You don’t want this. You want him. You don’t want this uncertainty, this unstructured and wild thing that you two have become tangled up in. 

It happens before you can even register your body moving of its own accord, crashing your lips into his waiting ones. His hands are fast, eager, to touch every part of you now that you’ve given some semblance of a go ahead. Squeezing, groping, one hand relishing in the feel of your tits, the other cupping your cheek, pulling you deeper into the searing kiss.

“Fuck,” he mutters when your hands move with equal fervor on his body - squeezing his thigh, wrapping around him the to clutch the hair at the base of his neck. “The hell says we shouldn’t be doing this…”

You shake your head, smiling into the kiss. “Probably everyone.”

“Makes me want you more, baby,” Joel counters, and you nod feverishly in agreement, squeaking in surprise when he pushes you down to the truck bed, swinging himself over to straddle you. His weight crushes down, comforting and arousing all in one, no time to even dwell on it before his lips are on yours again, a hand plunging between to cup you through your shorts. Warmth flows freely between your legs, the fabric dampening the sensation but it’s still too much, too built up, and you buck your hips.

“I want these shorts gone,” he demands. “Everyone wishin’ they got a peek under these, givin’ you all those tips, except at the end of the night it’s me right here, gettin’ everythin’ they want.”

Your head goes fuzzy, swimming with lustful thoughts as his dirty talk ramps up. It turned out that Joel Miller had the filthiest mouth you’d ever encountered, something you’d never have expected from the quieter, gruff man. He was an archetype of southern politeness most of the time - not without his sass, sure - but you’d never expected… this.

“Take them,” you breathe out. Joel grins above you, unbuttoning the shorts with ease, hooking his fingers in the sides.

“You’d let me, really? Right here… right out in the open?” Joel tsks, the grin on his face spreading into something wicked. You blink back to reality, to the parking lot around you, and yet your answer remains unchanged.

“Yes,” you whisper, feeling shame burn at your cheeks.

Joel works your bottoms down slowly, taking your panties with it and speaking unhurriedly. “Let anyone who comes to see what all the fuss is about see all of this, would you?”

“Yes,” you answer dutifully.

“God damn.” He chuckles, tossing your shorts to the side, leaning back to glimpse at the bottom half of you, now exposed to him. “Dunno what’s worse. This, or that closet at your parent’s place. You’re a dirty little bitch, ain’t you?”

You nearly growl. “You love it,” you shoot back, spreading your thighs wide open for him. 

Staring between them with a certain wonder about him, he answers. “I do.”

He sinks himself down, moving to pleasure you, pulling your clit into his mouth and giving it a gentle suck. You yelp, a tiny squeak that has your hand flying over your mouth to quiet yourself down.

Joel moves his tongue to lap at your folds, drinking in the sweet slickness you’ve already poured out for him. The slickness that had been pooling between your thighs just at the sight of him earlier tonight. 

“You been this wet all night for me?” he asks incredulously, toying a finger through it now, circling your clit in a slow, tortuous circle.

You whimper first as an answer. “You - you make me -”

“I know I do. Ain’t easy to hide a hard fuckin’ cock under the table with your parents either, y’know. Wearin’ shorts like that on that gorgeous ass of yours.” He tsks into your pussy before slurping again, groaning as your arousal starts to coat his beard.

Your chest heaves, desperately needing more from him, his satisfaction with toying with you going longer than you can handle tonight. Not after how long it’s been.

“Please, J-Joel.”

He chuckles darkly. “We both know that ain’t the name you want to call me right now.”

He was right, the word had hung on your tongue since the second you’d been alone together, since you felt his warm hands exploring your skin. It came out somehow more naturally than you’d expected or even wanted, but something about it just felt… right.

Self conscious, you hold back and grumble as he withholds contact from you, staring up expectantly. “Come on, angel. I wanna hear it, too. Been too long.”

“Please, daddy…” you correct yourself shyly, readjusting to the word on your tongue. Joel’s face, shadowed by the yellow light of the closest streetlamp, breaks into a smirk.

“That’s right. Right now, when we’re like this, I’m your daddy, aren’t I?”

You nod and he continues to lick your needy cunt as a reward, swirling his tongue over the delicate bud near the top. “Yes, you are.”

Joel’s tongue moves faster, urged on at your breathless cries for him. “And you’d want to come for your daddy, wouldn’t you?”

The words twist your core tighter, the warmth building to a near breaking point. “G-god, yes. Y-yes!” You cry out louder as he sinks a finger inside, crooking it to make you go a little dizzy. You clamp a hand over your mouth again, tighter this time, stifling your cries.

Joel pulls back, a string of saliva and arousal connecting the two of you. His finger keeps the pressure on that spot inside of you, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin as the most painful tease.

“Nuh-uh. Think you should be loud. Unless… you don’t want your coworkers to hear ya? Or better yet, that asshole boss of yours?”

You picture the ramifications of what Joel is saying, the way Chip’s face would go red, twisted up in anger before he likely fired you. You break into a cheeky smile, and without conviction you say, “I - I shouldn’t."

“You should be doin’ a lot of things right now, sweetheart. But here we are. Don’t act like you don’t like the idea of pissin’ off that bastard.”

You chuckle, nodding in a dazed agreement as Joel glides his nose over your sex, flicking his tongue out periodically and making you start to squirm impatiently. “Bet he wants to fuck you, too. Such a pretty, perfect girl. Bet he wants to bury his mouth in this sweet god damn perfect cunt.” He punctuates his words with a deep inhale to your pussy, his nose now tracing a little circle over your clit. 

His words send you reeling - something about the possessiveness he holds over you makes you clench around his digits like you’ve never done for anyone else. “Please -” you beg before you can even think.

“Please you want him to fuck you?”

You sigh in lustful, irritated frustration. “D-damn it, Joel. No. You.”

“Need daddy to fuck you good, don’t you? These college boys ain’t doin’ it for you, are they?” he purrs into your skin, finally pulling himself from between your legs to glide up over your body, shielding you completely.

You feel yourself flush hot, still sheepish even after all these months affected by his dirty words and that stupid, yet hot - so hot, god why is it so hot - title he’s bestowed himself. A tickle of embarrassment creeps into your belly knowing that you’ve hardly pursued anyone at school, never able to find exactly what you’d already had all along - only it wasn’t yours to keep. It never could be.

“I - I -” you mumble, avoiding eye contact as his face hovers above yours.

“What? They’re that bad?” he teases, and you bite your lip.

“There aren’t many… relations going on, okay?” You grimace, finding his dark eyes and seeing him amused, yet studying you carefully, more seriously.

Joel throws you the tiniest smirk, but his voice is deep and sincere. “Damn shame for all of them. But makes me awful happy to hear on account of myself.”

You swallow, nodding, feeling an anxiousness playing in your belly. “Have - have you…? Since we last…?” You don’t know why you even ask, why you’re hellbent on setting yourself up to be hurt.

Joel hesitates, debating for a moment, then leans in to kiss you, long and deep. He pulls back, then shakes his head. “Not since December, no.” The words are hushed, whispered, one hand squeezing at your hip. 

The moment is tense - too much so - and the urge to escape it crashes into you. You shift underneath him, pressing your hips up into his to entice him. “Don’t you want to fuck me then before ol’ Chip gets his chance?”

Joel practically growls, his hold going tight. “Wouldn’t fuck you like I do.”

You shake your head, licking your lips and feeling the flicker of desire reignite between your thighs that had briefly paused. “We’ll see about that,” you say, raising your eyebrows.

“God damn it, kiddo, you’re tryin’ to piss me off.”

“It’s better when you’re irritated with me -” You lick your lips, your hands finding the waistband of his jeans, toying with it. “Daddy.”

That same growl erupts from his throat, aggravated and breathless. His hands scramble with yours to free his cock, and you can’t help but peer between your bodies to catch the sight of it. You love every bit of his body, love seeing the way it moves for you, with you. The way that it evokes things in you you’d never known possible, hitting all of your buttons just right.

Only getting a short glance at his erection, your body is quickly handled by Joel’s rough, eager hands rolling you onto your stomach. You’re held down immediately, his weight crushing into you, nearing on uncomfortable with the bumps and ridges in the bed of the truck. One hand presses to the back of your head as he mounts you, the hot skin of his cock teasing at your ass.

All you can do is whimper, your head straining to look back at him as he spreads your ass cheeks, slipping between them and to your slick core, nudging at your entrance. Anticipation hangs in your labored breaths until he enters you, the tension released in an exhale of relief and sharp tenderness at the full stretch of him. 

Joel wastes no time slamming into you, satiating every fantasy you’d had of him, every desirous, late night thought that caught you off guard since your last rendezvous. It was always just as you’d remembered it - a miraculous connection of your bodies that seemed to stump the two of you every time you’d tried to make sense of it.

“Hell yes, angel, you always take me so good, so perfect,” Joel grunts out as he thrusts into you. “Never complainin’, jus’ takin’ what you’re meant to.”

Your eyes roll back slightly as he presses impossibly deep inside of you. Despite everything - his size, your ages, the myriad of reasons this shouldn’t even be happening right now - it feels like the perfect fit.

“S-so good,” you whine , breathless as his body starts to lean in close, his chest pressing against your back.

“So good, who?” Joel reminds you, his voice now rumbling right in your ear.

“F- Daddy. So good daddy,” you quickly spit out, lost in the moment. Joel had once called you cock dumb, and you’d wanted to scoff, but moments like these proved it to be a very real phenomenon. You typically consider yourself relatively level headed, but right now you’re completely helpless to the power he holds, all thought centered on the way he slips in and out of you, every sensation and nerve lit up from the drag of the head of his cock inside of you.

You shudder, feeling his hulking form so close as he brings his lips to your ear, wet kisses trailing to your neck. He’s always loved your neck - it was the first thing he’d deigned to touch all those months ago that had felt charged, different than your typical interactions. That’s when he’d drawn you in, hooked you and pulled you into this whirlwind.

You scramble a hand back to reach for him, touch him, but he grabs it, tracing his fingers over your palm, interlacing them with yours for a brief moment before your wrist is pinned down. He fucks you harder, faster, his lips bouncing against your neck before they latch on, sucking hard.

“J-Joel!” you cry out in a panic, realizing the possibility of a mark being left with an impending meet up with your parents tomorrow.

“It’ll be fine,” he purrs against your sensitive skin, sucking a little harder before moving to another spot. "Jus' leavin' you with a little somethin'."

You see stars as his cock presses as deep as it can go on his next thrust, and you lose the will to fight a losing battle. You have makeup for a reason, you suppose.

You moan, loud and clear, suddenly unable to even care about the world around you, an audience or Chip or any of your coworkers rounding this truck and seeing you getting absolutely ruined by a man well over twice your age. None of it matters when you have Joel so close to you, so ready to please you and take care of you.

“G-god, you’re so deep,” you whimper out in a garbled haze as he keeps up his punishing thrusts, letting the head of his kiss the deepest parts of you.

Joel chuckles dryly, doubling down on his efforts, the both of you panting, close to reaching something extraordinary together. “Mmm,” he groans into your ear, still lapping at your neck periodically. “What d’you want with an old man like me anyway, huh?”

It’s a question you’ve asked yourself dozens of times, one you’ve never quite found the answer to, even after searching deep within yourself. Joel was brutal in the sheets but also sweet, and maybe that was a balance you’d been seeking without knowing it. The illusion he created of not caring was always overpowered by the look in his eyes that told you there was something more there, something you both wanted to build upon but knew you never could. So you took moments like this - dark and rushed and secretive in parking lots - and made the most of them while you could pretend that the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Instead of saying all of that, you just mumble out through your panting, “Y-you know why.”

“That’s right, this big cock, fuckin’ you like nobody else can,” Joel replies for you, and you nod languidly, your eyelids heavy, your mind concentrated now on the heat building deep in your belly, furling tighter with every thrust.

“R-right there, oh my god,” you breathe, pressing your hips into each thrust to pull him that much deeper, to make each crash of your bodies into one another that much harder.

Joel moans quietly, attempting to stifle the lusty little sound but it's music to your ears, listening to him fall apart for you. “Come for me, sweetheart, s-shit, daddy needs to hear you…”

“D-daddy!” you whine out loudly, knowing he loves to hear that name nearly pornographic off your lips in these heated moments. Your pants and noises break into little moans that crescendo as bursts of pleasure wash over you. Every muscle is taut and taking Joel’s harsh, relentless thrusts into you, nearly making you scream with how vibrantly every sensation seems to crash over you.

“Y-yeah, let ‘em hear it. Christ you sound so pretty f’me, baby. Milk daddy’s cock, f-fuck that’s it…” Joel’s string of praises reaches your ears in a distant fog before his hips stutter inside of you and he’s spilling himself deep and full. You clench around him one last time, shuddering at the sensation as your skin tingles pleasantly. You feel floaty, far gone as you try to regain your bearings, slumped and ass up on the cool material of the truck bed. Reality comes back slowly as Joel kisses down your back, planting one on your ass cheek before giving it a playful bite and kneeling next to you.

“You okay, sunshine?” he asks softly, and for some reason, despite feeling elated, tears prick at the back of your eyes. It’s too much, too emotional. You will them away in a second, not daring to let Joel see.

“Mhm,” you weakly utter, nodding. Joel’s hand strokes along the side of your head, and you peer up at him with a slack smile, finding that he’s giving you one back. 

He comes down to your level, kissing your forehead. “Best yet, maybe,” he says playfully, but you aren’t sure you feel like laughing.

“Maybe,” you ponder, watching Joel’s face morph into a more serious expression. He curls his fingers around your ear, tracing shapes along your hairline, your neck, your shoulders as you stay just as you are for a long, quiet moment. He guides you to sit up, silently handing you your discarded clothing, helping you dress as the mess of him slips down your thighs. You have the passing thought that maybe he has napkins in his glove box, but then decide you’d rather have the reminder of him.

Joel sits next to you on the edge of the truck bed again, and interlocks his hand with yours. “I - I’ve got a hotel, right on campus. I could take y’home, but I’d like if you came back w’me for the night.”

His words give you pause, a tiny inhaled breath as you go to speak, snapping your lips closed and looking down at your lap for a beat. “Is that a good idea?” You ask for so many reasons, knowing that Joel is as acutely aware of all of them - the worst being that the longer you spend together, the harder it is to come back to reality.

“It ain’t a bad one,” he rasps, sultry and rough, and you crack a tiny smile. Always persuasive and charming when he needs to be.

“It’s not,” you admit, looking into his inquiring gaze.

“W-well?” he asks, nudging your side. “Jus’ one more night. I hardly get to see you, an’ you can go in the mornin’.”

You know how the night will go. You’ll both think you’re there for the sex - to sweat and say dirty things and pant all over again until you both come so hard that it boggles your mind. You’ll convince yourself that’s all it is, until you end up staying up late - talking, laughing, held in the other's arms. Intertwined together, bodies naked and comfortable with the other, because you’ve been here before.

You’ll both find yourself wanting to shy away from that fact that more is there - a real connection, two people with unlikely similarities, that just… get the other. You’ll both get lost in it, until the sun shines the next morning and you have to pretend that it doesn’t exist, that it was some figment of the power that the night holds over a person’s emotions, those dark twilight hours taking over your minds.

But you’ll both know that isn’t true, and there is nothing you can do about it.

“Okay,” you tell him, knowing the fate you’re subjecting yourself to - one that’s as wonderful as it is confusing. It hurts at times, but the spectacular things this man makes you feel outweighs it all. It’s worth it, that pain, to be able to find one another time and time again, and maybe even dream of more someday.  “Let’s go.”

divider by @/saradika-graphics!

[nymphoniah]

can I request old man Logan where he’s looking for his glasses and he finds the reader sitting in his seat wearing them & teasing him how can he see without them. Then something primal inside him overcomes him to put her in her place

I hope that’s not too silly of a request I just drool over old man Logan especially with his glasses

you know i’m no good | logan howlett

i love this old man… i need him like air!!! ackkkk </3. tysm for sending this request in, we all need a grumpy logan in our lives :3 also i just read the old man logan comics and lord!!! i absolutely need to write more of himmmm

pairing: old man!logan x younger!reader

content/tags: NSFW minors dni, 18+ only, implied age gap (reader is in their 20’s), soft dom!logan, afab!reader, boot riding, smut, daddy kink, swearing, pet names (princess, doll, etc), a little bit of dacryphilia, logan refers to himself as an old man, porn w a lil bit of plot if you squint, crybaby!reader

you absolutely love the way logan’s glasses hang off of his nose bridge—always making sure when you’re peppering his face in kisses, you kiss the little bump that accentuates his features.

logan was a little embarrassed at first, wearing his glasses around you. thought it made him look older, already felt senile just taking them out of the case.

“c’mon!” you tease, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. “i like the way you look in them,” you push him further, toying with the frames of his glasses.

“i look older in ‘em,” he says, playing off your kind words, “never was a fan of wearing them in the first place,” logan continues to drone on.

“charles says otherwise,” you snap back, your fingers playing where his glasses sit on his ears, flipping the glasses slightly up and down off his nose bridge.

logan chuckles, allowing you to continue playing with his glasses. “fine, i’ll wear ‘em,” he obliges much quicker than you thought he would—god knows the man loves to put on a fight.

but for you? he’d fold instantly. that’s what you do to him, you’re his little soft spot.

“only ‘cause you like it, princess.”

so when time passes, and you start to see him wear his glasses less and less, you decide to mess around with him a bit—give him a little surprise!

now here you are, sat in his armchair with a small smirk forming at the corner of your lips. your legs crossed, eyes peering up at him, but this time—his glasses perched on your nose.

logan approaches you slowly, his footsteps heavy, his figure towering over yours. he’s just come home from work, dressed up in his black and white suit, his tie slightly undone. he looks especially tired, like he’s had a long day.

“you broke your promise,” you trail off quietly, losing your smugness as logan looks down at you, his eyes sullen. “forgot these at home,” you continue, pointing at the glasses.

you try to ease the tension in the air by cracking a joke. “bet you couldn’t even drive straight without these.”

your words draw no reaction from logan. it’s painfully obvious that he’s drained from the day, and has no patience for whatever you have planned.

“i don’t have time for this,” he shrugs you off, pulling at your arm to get you up on your feet, “get ‘outta my spot, need to have some fuckin’ peace for once”.

you hate when logan gets like this, refusing to let you know what’s occupying his thoughts, keeping you in the dark—pushing you away.

so being the stubborn girl you are, you stay limp, refusing to move from the armchair. “no.” you retort, voice low and quiet.

logan can obviously lift you out of the chair with no issues, no tugging on your wrists or anything of the sort. but he sees that you’re at least trying to ease him up, make him feel the tiniest bit better. so he bites.

“can’t hear ‘ya, princess” logan says, the timbre of his voice gravelly, his eyebrow now raised, watching for your next move.

“no.” you respond sternly, shifting your weight further into the leather, tugging your arm away from his grasp.

something inside logan snaps. maybe it’s just ‘cause he had a bad day at work, or perhaps he just got riled up, seeing you get all bratty with him. knowing him, it was probably a combination of the two.

“no?” he mocks, sounding bitter as he lets out a tsk. “wrong fuckin’ answer, sweetheart.”

and that’s when the mood changes. the tension is still there, but there’s a shift. you feel your stomach turn, in a weird, twisted way—aroused by the way logan looks down at you with displeasure.

“need me to put you in your place, huh?” logan spits out, grabbing you by the wrist, finally pulling you out of the armchair.

taking little effort, he makes you stumble to your knees, your palms hitting the ground of the hardwood floor. you’re kneeled in front of logan, feeling foolish, stupid for trying to pester him after a long day.

“m’sorry,” you mutter, eyes glued to the floor, his glasses sliding low on your nose.

logan perches down to your height, bending down so that he’s level to your ears. “it’s a bit too late for apologies now, doll,” he coos, cupping your face with one of his hands.

he squishes your cheeks together, making it so that you’re looking up at him now. his eyes are sullen, facial features stern, the bags under his eyes a bit darker than usual.

streams of sorry, sorry, sorry is all you can manage let out of your pretty little mouth. you feel so guilty, upsetting him. sure, you had no ill intentions, but you know you pushed him—you should’ve just gotten out of the stupid chair, could’ve avoided this stupid mess.

the thoughts continue to drill into your brain, the regret. your eyes start to get teary, you just can’t help it. after everything that logan’s done, all the shit he’s been through, you didn’t wanna add onto his problems, cause any unnecessary stress in his life.

“don’t cry, princess” he consoles you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. logan steadies himself back up, seating himself into the leather armchair where you once sat.

you shift around, slotting yourself between his legs, your pink, teary eyes looking up at him. “m’sorry still, didn’t wanna make you mad,” you sniffled out, taking off his glasses, placing them on the coffee table.

you leaned your head against his leg, your cheek nuzzling into the fabric of his slacks, your tears staining the pants a darker shade of black.

logan looked down at you, his tired eyes admiring the way you sat below him, practically worshiping him. “you’re just needy for your old man, hm?” he says, patting your head gently as you continue to weep.

“can’t help it, lo,” you murmur, tears becoming less frequent as he continues to tangle his fingers in your hair. “you’ve been gone a lot.”

your eyes fall down to his black leather dress shoes, the stitching of the shoes frayed, the material slightly worn at the edges. your fingertips play with the toe of his boots, trying to ground yourself.

“i know, i know, doll,” he replies, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek, his eyes catching the way you were staring intently at his shoes. “show me how much you missed me.”

your mind is still racing, trying to find a way to ease the pain you felt on your heart, the residing guilt you felt from earlier.

that’s ‘till you let your body think for itself, mindlessly hovering your clothed cunt on top of his boot. your breath stutters, trying to make sense of your actions, but it’s the last thing you wanna do.

all you want to do is turn your brain off—make sure that the pain goes away, that all your troubles could be temporarily solved.

“need this, need you,” you whine, placing yourself firmly on his boot, slowly grinding against him, pressing the temple of your head onto logan’s knee.

logan feels himself hardening at the sight of you getting off on him, his cock twitching as you paw at his slacks, your roaming hands finding their way to his crotch.

“fuck…” he hisses out, tilting his heels slightly upwards, making it so that the toe of his shoes angles right against your cunt. “my filthy girl just needed her old man to comfort her, yeah?”

you moan out in pleasure, your eyes shutting tight as you pace yourself, rutting against the rugged leather rhythmically. your cunt was leaking with your arousal, the excess slowly dripping down the sides of his shoes.

“missed you… so bad… d-daddy,” you cried out in between pants, your breath quivering, feeling the pressure in your core building up. “don’t know what i’d do… without ’ya…”

“you don’t need to worry about that, princess,” logan coos, “daddy’s right here,” he punctuates by nestling the toe of his shoe deeper inside your messy cunt.

“shut your pretty little brain off and keep riding me like that.”

[greengoblinswifey]

Moth to a Flame- Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you find yourself entangled with your co-star, Nicholas Chavez, despite being in a committed relationship. The chemistry between you ignites on and off set and the lines blur, leading to a heated affair.

warnings— fingering, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral, cheating(reader does), praise kink, degrading kink, not proofread i fear.

a/n: this is long asf but you’ll love it, read while listening to Moth to a Flame by The. Weeknd <3

On set, the tension was palpable. The cameras were rolling for season two of the show where Nicholas and you, as the main characters, were set to film an intense love scene. The script called for his character to finally confess his desire for you, despite your on-screen character’s relationship with someone else. Ironically, it wasn’t just the characters who were tangled up in complicated feelings. In real life, you and Nicholas had crossed the same line, and it made filming the scene that much more real.

Your boyfriend, Cody, who had always been a bit uneasy about you acting alongside Nicholas, was on set that day, watching the scene unfold. The moment Nicholas delivered his line with intense conviction- “I want you, fuck your boyfriend,” It was almost like a direct hit to Cody in real life. His fists clenched, and you could feel the heat of his glare even from where you stood.

The scene continued, Nicholas's hands on your waist, pulling you close as you kissed for the first time this season. The chemistry between you both was undeniable on and off and that only seemed to infuriate your boyfriend further. Before the director could call “cut,” Cody stormed forward, clearly upset.

“Cut!” the director yelled, trying to defuse the situation. You hurried over to him, placing a hand on his chest to calm him down.

“Listen, babe, take a breather, okay? We have to do this scene. It’s just acting,” you whispered, trying to soothe his frustration. You could feel Nicholas' eyes on you from across the set, jaw clenched in irritation. He hated seeing Cody upset, especially when it came to you which was very common.

“I don’t like it,” Cody muttered, his voice low. “The way he looks at you, the way you two are-”

“Go take a walk through the city, clear your head," you interrupted softly, trying to stay professional even though the tension was real. “It’s part of the job, okay? We’re gonna take a break.”

He hesitated, his eyes darting between you and Nicholas. But eventually, after a few tense moments, he gave in and turned to leave, though not without a frustrated huff. The moment he was out of earshot, you sighed, running a hand through your braids.

Nicholas approached you, his eyes dark with a mix of desire and irritation. “You okay?” he asked, though his gaze flickered toward where Cody had disappeared.

You nodded, but inside, the emotions were swirling. You were cheating on your boyfriend in the show, but the real betrayal lingered in the air, just beneath the surface.

In the next scene, the tension was still hanging in the air, and the director decided it was best to take a break. “Alright, we’re gonna pause here,” he announced. “Everyone take ten, grab some snacks, get some air. We’ll continue filming once we’re all settled again.”

You nodded, eager for a moment to escape the tension between your boyfriend and Nicholas on set. Heading back to your trailer, you sank onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling while sipping on coffee. Your mind raced, replaying the scene that had just unfolded. You had been thinking about leaving Cody for a while now, but his overbearing presence made it hard. You feared what he might do if you walked away. And then, of course, there was the media, always watching.

As you lay there, lost in thought, a knock sounded at your door. You assumed it was Cody, needing to cool off after his earlier outburst. Without even looking, you called out, “Cody, just take a walk. You need to cool off.”

The door opened, but instead of Cody’s familiar presence, it was Nicholas who stepped in. You sat up on the bed, surprised. “Oh, Hey,” you muttered, sitting up straighter as he walked towards you.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice low and concerned. He studied your face closely, his eyes filled with genuine care. You tried to give a nonchalant smile, nodding.

“I’m fine,” you lied, though it was obvious you weren’t. Nicholas’ gaze flickered from your brown eyes down to your lips, then back up again. He stepped closer, the space between you shrinking until there was barely any distance at all.

You both were inching toward each other, your breath mingling as the attraction that had been building between you two, both on and off screen, reached its breaking point for the hundredth time. Before you could think, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow and tender at first, but then his hands moved up to cup your breasts, sending sparks through you.

You pulled away, breathless, your heart pounding. “What if Cody comes back? What if he sees us?” you whispered, half in fear, half in excitement.

Nicholas, with a wicked grin, leaned in closer, his voice a deep rasp. “Let him see. Let him see me make you feel good, in a way he never can.”

The room felt hot, the air thick with desire. Nicholas stood up and crossed the room to lock the door. The click of the lock made your pulse race. Then, without hesitation, he took off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and defined abs. He looked absolutely irresistible, his body chiseled and perfect.

You couldn’t stop staring, practically drooling at how unbelievably hot he was. And as he stood there, looking down at you with smoldering eyes, you realized just how powerless you were to resist him any longer.

The tension in the trailer was thick, the heat between you and Nicholas undeniable. You wanted more of him, but the looming threat of Cody returning, or the director calling everyone back to set, weighed on your mind. Despite that, your body ached for his touch, and you couldn’t resist as he sat beside you, his lips crashing back onto yours.

The kiss deepened, your moans of his name slipping past your lips as he whispered against your skin, “I love when you moan my name.” His eyes darkened with desire as he added, “I hope that whenever Cody fucks you, you’re thinking of me.”

Your breath hitched as his mouth trailed lower, his hands already tugging at the low-cut top you wore. His lips found your breasts, his mouth warm as he sucked on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. “Nicholas,” you moaned, trying to stop him before he left any visible marks. “No hickeys, please-”

But he didn’t listen. He left two dark hickeys on your breasts, smirking as he pulled away to admire his work. “I hope when he takes off your clothes, he sees these,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “He’ll know you belong to someone else. To me.”

You shivered as his hands trailed down to your skirt, slipping underneath to find your lacy panties. His fingers rubbed you through the thin fabric, and you were already soaked. A soft moan escaped your lips as your hips lifted into his touch, begging for more.

“Does this turn you on?” Nicholas asked, slipping a finger past your panties and into your heat, teasing you. “Cheating on that little boy?” He held your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him as he asked again. “Do I turn you on?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip before whispering, “Yes Daddy, you do.”

He grinned, sliding another finger inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit in slow, agonizing circles. You gasped, arching your back off the bed as the pleasure built inside you. “Such a good girl,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you deeply to muffle your moans. His lips moved to your neck, placing soft kisses there as he praised you. “You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so wet, soaking my hand.”

Your breath came in ragged pants, your body trembling as the pleasure became overwhelming. He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a smirk. Then he leaned down and kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

He didn’t stop there. His fingers returned to your heat, sliding in and out as his mouth found your breasts again, sucking and teasing your sensitive skin. His thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

It wasn’t long before your body gave in. You came hard around his fingers, your moans muffled by his lips as he kissed you through it. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his voice filled with pride. “Such a good girl for Daddy, coming on my fingers like that. That’s my girl.”

He kept fingering you gently, easing you down from your high, until you were breathless and shaking beneath him.

Without a word, you slid down the bed, pulling at Nicholas’s pants with urgency. His eyes had been locked on you, heavy with lust, and when you finally freed his hard cock, you were mesmerized by how perfect it looked, thick, long and pretty with a pink tip. You wasted no time, taking him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him as a deep moan escaped his lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back as you worked your tongue along his shaft. “You’re such a good girl, feels so good.”

You started teasing him, your mouth moving slowly, hands caressing his balls, but the teasing hadn’t lasted long. Nicholas grabbed your braids, gently tugging your head forward. “Suck my cock,” he demanded, his voice low and rough. “No teasing.”

You obeyed, taking him deeper, your mouth moving faster as you pleased him just the way he liked. His hands guided your movements, and his moans filled the air, telling you how perfect you were, how no one could ever make him feel like this. “You’re too good for him,” he said through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. “You belong to me, no matter who you’re with.”

The words sent a shiver through you, and you moaned around him, sending vibrations along his length. He gasped, tightening his grip on your hair. “Does he know you call me when he sleeps? Does he know where your heart lies?”

You couldn’t respond, your mouth full of him, but the moans you let out told him everything. You took him deeper, gagging slightly as he hit the back of your throat, and he cursed under his breath, his abs tightening.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

You nodded eagerly, quickening your pace, and your hands massaged his balls as you took him as deep as you could. It only took a few more strokes before his hips jerked, and with a groan, he spilled into your mouth. His head fell back, and he moaned, “Such a good girl, my good girl. You did so good for me. You sucked my cock so well.”

You swallowed everything, licking him clean before pulling away, looking up at him as he watched you with hooded eyes.

Nicholas pulled you up from the bed, guiding you into his arms as your lips met in a soft kiss. His touch was gentle now, and as you nestled against his chest, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. His hand found its way to your hair, stroking it soothingly while you relaxed in his embrace.

“I don’t want to do this forever,” you murmured softly, your voice tinged with the weight of your emotions. The tension of sneaking around and the complications with Cody weighed heavily on your mind.

Nicholas held you tighter, understanding the unspoken struggle. “We’ll figure it out,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

Before either of you could say more, there was a sharp knock on the trailer door. “Filming’s starting again in five!” the director called from outside.

You sighed, pulling yourself from the warmth of Nicholas’s embrace. “I guess it’s time,” you said with a small, reluctant smile.

You quickly washed your mouth in the small sink, your mind already shifting back to the scene you had to film. Nicholas lingered for a moment, waiting for you to finish before stepping to the side to give you space. He couldn’t come out with you immediately, it would look suspicious, so he stayed behind, allowing you to exit first.

When you stepped back on set, Cody was already there, his eyes burning as he watched you. He hadn’t said anything yet, but you could feel the tension radiating from him, as though he suspected something. Nicholas emerged a minute later, casually strolling back to his mark, though you could see the edge in his expression as his gaze briefly flickered over to your boyfriend.

It was time to get back into character, but the lines between fiction and reality were blurring more than ever. Cody’s stare bore into you as if daring you to give something away, while Nicholas stood close, his jaw clenched, waiting for the scene to unfold.

The director called out, “Action!” and the scene picked up exactly where they left off. Nicholas, fully in character, glared at you with fiery intensity as he delivered his line, “I want you. Fuck your boyfriend.”

Before you could respond, he grabbed you, pulling you into a kiss that was far more heated than the script required. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your waist and chest, his presence dominating the moment. The kiss deepened, and as he moved you onto the bed, it felt as though the lines between acting and reality blurred. He seemed to glance over toward Cody, who was watching from behind the camera, but it was hard to tell if it was intentional or not.

“Cut!” the director shouted, stepping forward with a smile. “That was flawless, great job you two.”

Nicholas's lips were still hovering over yours, your breaths mingling as you both panted from the intensity of the scene. His hands stayed on your body just a little longer than necessary, and Cody’s eyes burned with suspicion from across the set. It was as though he could feel something was off, but he said nothing.

Later, the day’s filming wrapped, and everyone was heading back to the hotel. You, Nicholas, and Cody were all staying in the same hotel, which only added to the tension. In your shared room with your boyfriend, his agitation was evident. He was pacing, his expression dark and frustrated.

“What was that today?” he demanded, his tone sharp. “The way you two were all over each other. It didn’t look like acting.”

You sighed, trying to remain calm. “It was nothing, Cody. We were just doing the scene, it’s literally just acting. I don’t know what you’re talking about”

He wasn’t convinced. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to you, scrutinizing every word that left your lips. “You sure about that?” he asked. “Because it didn’t look like nothing from where I was standing.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, you stepped away from him, shaking your head. “I’m not doing this,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m not about to argue with you over my job. You chose to be there.”

Cody’s face softened as he realized he was pushing too hard. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to approach you again. “I just, I don’t know. I didn’t mean to make it a thing.”

But you were done with the conversation. “I don’t want to hear it, Cody.” The words were final, your back turned to him as you tried to distance yourself from the situation. Frustrated, his voice snapped at you, but then he stopped himself, muttering another apology. He moved closer, pressing his lips to your neck in a gesture meant to calm the tension. But as his lips touched your skin, you found yourself closing your eyes, not thinking of him, but of Nicholas, the way his hands had held you, the way his lips had lingered on your neck during filming and outside of it.

Cody’s hands slid down, trying to pull at your clothes, his fingers tugging at the hem of your top, but you stopped him before he could pull it off. The memory of the hickeys Nicholas had left on your chest flashed in your mind.

“I- I don’t want to have sex tonight,” you said abruptly, pulling away from his touch.

His frustration was immediate. He huffed and stormed toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You could hear the water running. He couldn’t understand why things had suddenly shifted, why the desire had waned on your end. But deep down, you knew.

You knew you’d much rather Nicholas be the one to kiss your neck, pull down your top and take you right then and there. You were aching for him, dripping with arousal. You were determined to get a piece of him later that night when your boyfriend was asleep or hopefully out getting drunk.

As the night wore on, you waited for Cody to finish in the bathroom. You laid in bed, pretending to sleep, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he finally crawled in beside you, exhausted and oblivious. Once you were sure he was deeply asleep, you carefully slid out of bed. To test, you flicked your finger against his forehead, smiling slightly when he didn’t stir.

Moving quietly, you slipped into the bathroom and began your nightly routine, washing your face and applying your skincare and makeup. The rush of anticipation built with every step. You picked up the red lingerie, skimpy and barely there, hugging you in all the right places, and slid it on, admiring how it clung to your body in the mirror. Then, you wrapped yourself in a trench coat, keeping the surprise hidden.

With one last glance at your boyfriend, who remained fast asleep, you grabbed your phone and texted Nicholas. “Is your door open?”

His reply came quickly. “It’s open, princess.”

Your heart raced as you made your way down the hall, the soft click of your heels barely audible. Reaching Nicholas’ room, you opened the door slightly, peeking in before stepping inside. Nicholas was standing there, eyes darkening with hunger the moment he saw you in the trench coat. He crossed the room, meeting you at the door, gaze fixed on you.

Without saying a word, you undid the knot of your trench coat and let it fall to the floor. The red lingerie you wore underneath left nothing to the imagination. His breath caught as he took in the sight of you. “You look so sexy for Daddy,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.

Before you could respond, Nicholas pressed you against the door, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands found your breasts. You moaned softly, hands tangling in his hair, feeling the intensity of his need. He squeezed your breasts, murmuring, “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy," you breathed, arching into him, “I’m all yours.”

His smirk deepened, his lips claiming yours as he pulled you even closer, his hands exploring every inch of you.

He lifted you effortlessly, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him, grinding against the hardness pressing into you. His hands gripped your thighs as he carried you to the bed, laying you down gently before pulling his shirt over his head. You watched, breathless, as he slid his boxers off, his thick cock already hard and leaking, the tip glistening with precum.

Hovering over you, he began rubbing himself along your soaked entrance, teasing, dragging his length up and down your slick folds. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice husky as his eyes took in the sight of you beneath him.

“Just fuck me, Daddy,” you begged, voice desperate and needy.

Nicholas smiled, a dark gleam in his eyes as he reached for the straps of your lingerie and slowly pulled it off, baring your body to him completely. He kissed down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake until his mouth found your pussy. His tongue flicked against your clit, and you moaned loudly, gripping the sheets as pleasure rolled through you. He devoured you, lapping at your wetness, the sensations building and building until you were on the edge, so close to coming.

But just as you were about to let go, he pulled away, leaving you panting and needy. “I want you to come around me,” he said, his voice filled with desire. He reached for a condom from the nightstand.

“No condom this time,” you interrupted, breathless but firm. “I want to feel all of you. I want you to cum inside me.”

Nicholas’ eyes flashed with something primal, his lips curling into a smirk. He tossed the condom aside and positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his cock against your entrance, teasing you again. “You sure?” he asked, voice low and commanding.

“I’m ready,” you whispered, nodding, “I want it all.”

With a groan of satisfaction, he pressed his thick cock inside you, filling you inch by inch. You gasped as he stretched you, the feeling of him raw inside you sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. Nicholas began to thrust, slow and deep at first, driving you both wild.

As the heat between you intensified, you felt an electric thrill run through your body, urging you to crave more of him. “Daddy,” you breathed, your voice a sultry whisper, “I want more.”

With that invitation, he increased the pace, thrusting harder and deeper. The headboard creaked under the pressure, the whole floor probably heard, your nails dug into his back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You were lost in the rhythm, your breath quickening, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You wrapped your legs around him tightly for a moment, pulling him closer before releasing them, spreading wider to accommodate him. The shift allowed him to plunge deeper, each stroke igniting a raw, primal desire within you. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and you met his movements with your own, pushing back against him as he filled you completely.

“Just like that daddy,” you urged, your voice thick with passion.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts hard and relentless, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he pulled back slightly, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His voice was a low as he murmured against your mouth, “You’re all mine. You belong to Daddy now, you always have.”

A shiver of excitement raced through you, and he continued, “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you said, the words flowing from your lips as if they were the only truth that mattered.

“Whose pussy is this?” he asked, his tone commanding, eyes locked onto yours.

“Yours, Daddy. It’s all yours,” you replied, the thrill of submission making your heart race.

“Good girl,” he said, a satisfied smirk across his lips. “That’s my good girl.”

With renewed intensity, he rolled his hips beautifully against yours, the connection between you both electric. “I want you to cum all over my dick, raw, for the first time,” he urged, his voice thick with desire.

The feeling of him pushing deeper ignited a fire within you, building to a peak you couldn't hold back. With a gasp, your body responded to his words, pleasure washing over you in waves as you squirted, soaking him completely.

Nicholas groaned in response, his grip on you tightening as he felt the warmth of your release.

“That’s so hot baby, that turned you on huh,” he said, now chasing his own orgasm as your body lay shaking underneath him.

“Y-yes daddy,” you sobbed and he grinned, his pretty white teeth glistening.

“You soaked me baby, squirting on me like that, being a cheating slut turns you on?” His pace never let up but this time, he reached between your bodies and began rubbing your clit sending a pleasure you almost couldn’t take rushing through your writhing body.

A scream left your lips as you creamed and squirted again all over his cock, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fucking hell baby,” he moaned and you felt his hot cum spurt inside of you. He continued thrusting gently, the pace almost loving as he allowed your grip to milk him of every drop.

Now a panting mess, he fell beside you and turned to face you. Your leg was draped across his heaving body and you stared at his beautiful disbelieved figure as he opened his mouth to speak.

“You’re going to be the death of me baby.”

[bunny-jpeg]

work for it

jenson button

tags: smut/pwp, pornstar au, filming & photographing, teasing, bimbo!reader, daddy dom!jenson, reverse cowgirl, dirty talk/degrading language, pet names, daddy kink (+ daddy issues), age gap (22/45), breast play, filthy (!!!)

a/n: i hope you enjoy this, this came about at 12am when i should have been asleep... love you all!

"gimme a smile, baby." jenson's voice cooed as the camera was put in your face. he chuckled when you opened your eyes slowly to the sight of the phone camera in your face.

you licked your bottom lip and opened your mouth a little to show that you had swallowed all his cum from earlier. he chuckled lightly and ran his thumb across your bottom lip.

"messy girl." he said, there was almost praise in his tone. he dipped his thumb into your mouth and watched your eyes close once more, "trained you well, huh? you get off to daddy filming you and posting it online, right? you just have to be the center of attention don't you? greedy. maybe we should take another holiday soon, teach you some manners."

you said once his thumb was out of your mouth, you sounded needy and out of breath, "anything for you."

jenson loved how you behaved for the camera. you were just a solo cam girl when you two met. now you were on your way to world class star. and jenson was more than happy to let you put the work in.

cute, painfully submissive, he could smell the daddy issues off of you like the peach perfume you used. when it was you two in his studio apartment, dressed down to nothing, you were the star of the show. jenson was simply a cock for you to fuck, but he loved how rough you liked it. it made him feel young in a way, he was double your age but yet he knew how to make you scream.

he set up the camera close to the bed, he got up behind you and pulled you so your back was to his chest. a whorish display for the camera. he played with your nipples while he made eye contact with the camera. he pulled on them and bit at your shoulder, leaving dark marks for later.

"baby." he cooed, "tell the nice people at home how you feel right now." he pinched your nipple a little harder and it made you moan louder. when you didn't say anything he said, "use your words, princess. i'd hate for this to be a punishment video. your ass is still purple from last time."

your stomach was in knots and your cunt ached for him. you never knew you could need someone so badly. he had total control over you. you whined, "it feels good, daddy." your voice was so sweet.

you came over that afternoon in a tight little t-shirt and a short little pink skirt. jenson wondered how many men stared at you on the bus ride over. maybe he should have called you an uber but he was certain that the driver would crash for staring at your pretty tits for so long.

"only good, guess i'm losing my touch, huh? what happened to be near tears when i played with you." he said as he rubbed his hard erection against your behind, "i guess i've bee spoiling you." he pulled your tits harder and you whined.

he knew you'd be pretty and bruised by morning. maybe he'll make it up to you with some eggs benedict from the local diner. you whined a little louder.

"it feels amazing, daddy. fuck, i need you." your face felt hot and your back arched a little. jenson left another heavy bite on you and you moaned louder. you were such a slut sometimes, you liked the pain that was the best part. you enjoyed when jenson fucked you just right, just as you liked it. the aches and the pains, everything.

"then work for it, baby. are you just going to watch, or are you going to actually work for something for once in your life?" he asked before he pulled away and laid against the pillows.

you looked over your shoulder and asked, "what do you mean, daddy?"

he said, "reverse cowgirl, give our customers a show." and then laced his fingers behind his head. he licked his lips when you easily sank down on his cock. maybe it wasn't the safest to be doing it without a condom, but you two had a mutual sexual relationship without other partners.

you seated yourself onto his cock and held onto your thighs as you felt his cock hit against all the right places. you moaned a little bit at the feeling between your thighs.

"beautiful, always a star for the cameras." jenson laughed.

you looked to the camera and your mouth remained a little open while you rode him up and down. you felt his cock near bruise your pussy from the force that you took him. if you wanted to cum, you needed to work for it.

your breasts bounced with each heavy movement, the bruises were on display. you looked like a debauched whore who took cock like a champ. the idea that men would get off to this excited you. it made you cunt clench at the thought which only made jenson moan.

"pulling me in like a vice, princess." he drawled.

your eyes fluttered shit for a moment while you whined, "it feels so good, daddy." you whined as he continued to fuck you with strong strokes. you felt the pleasure course through you as you arched your back in response to the stimulation in your body.

jenson knew exactly how to work your body for the camera. the older daddy dom fucking the daylights out of a pretty (younger) thing, quite a popular trope. and you and jenson did it so well.

you continued to move against him. your arms were pulled back behind you and held by jenson as you worked yourself onto his cock. your eyes closed, your mouth open as filthy noises left your mouth.

this video was going to be a hit.

"you get off to this don't you?" he asked, "oh you love the camera on you, you love being used by daddy. what a bad, bad girl." he groaned, "you wanted to be a little starlet, but now you're just a fucktoy for me on camera. i love to see angels get their wings ripped off and fall to hell. that's where i am, ready to pick you up and fuck you until you can't form a coherent thought in that little empty head of yours." his words made you run hot.

you bounced on his cock while he kept your arms in his hands. he watched your ass move with each of your thrusts. fuck, you looked amazing. he could only imagine the faces you were making for the camera. maybe next round he's shove your cheeks into the pillows and fuck you with all the strength he had until your mind went blank and all you could think about was how much of a hungry slut you were.

he licked his lips and held onto you tighter. the pleasure was like heavy waves against rocks, it could feel it in his body. he admired you from behind as you worked your pussy around his cock. you were so good at what you did. so eager to please him.

"daddy likes it when you act like a whore for the camera. you know that right, princess? you act like such a slut for all of your viewers, let me fucking ruin you. i bet those pretty breasts of yours are bouncing right right. giving them quite a show." he felt the pleasure course through him, it was erotic and it made jenson feel flushed with lust.

jenson considered himself lucky, you would have easily fallen into another's bed. he snatched you right up before the likes of kimi or fernando could fuck your sweet pussy. you and your love for dirty old men you could call daddy, jenson fucking loved it.

"how's it feeling, princess? you're being awfully quiet."

"it just feels so good, daddy." you mewled as you continued to move up and down his cock even as your entire body body both with the stretch of how you were being moved, but also the intensity of lust in your body.

"close, baby?" he asked.

you nodded, "yes, sir." then whined a little louder when the pleasure started to become too much. when you pace started to falter, jenson man-handled you onto your stomach with your hips raised and fucked you rapidly.

he fucked you like he hated you and it only made you cum around his cock. he watched you come apart and your pussy clench around his thick cock. he cooed, "there's it, that's a good slut." he only continued his hard pace, fucking you right through your climax. he wiped the sweat off his brow and continued to thrust up inside of you.

you whimpered and whined, mixed with heavy panting and your attempts to form words. jenson thought it was cute, he pressed his hand on the center of your back and kept your pinned while he rutted up against you.

he gave a look to the camera and winked as he pulled another orgasm out of you. your noises only sounded more pathetic. he then finished inside of you and felt you clench around him a little tighter. he panted heavily and pulled you by your hair to look at the camera.

"tell how it feels, princess? who fucks you the best?"

you whined, "daddy does."

jenson chuckled and gave another hazy link to the camera before he looked down at you and said, "on your back, beautiful. we're not done here."

by the time jenson was done with you, the video was close to an hour long. and it was the top viewed video for a month afterwards <3

[nxtt2-u]

hush

your boyfriend loves to play with you in bed for hours on end. it’s not your fault you get loud after so much teasing, right?

content info — yang jeongin x afab!reader, 1.4k words, smut, established relationship

content warnings — nsfw, reader has a tummy, no gendered terms but reader has a vagina & boobs

notes — i return from my hiatus bearing this drabble-turned-oneshot as penance. i completely missed kinktober AND kinkmas.... sigh :( oh well, enjoy this lil snippet of dom jeongin!! ^^ smut warnings under the cut

smut warnings — dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, subspace, fingering, overstimulation, ruined orgasm, heavy petname usage sorry.., face slapping, crying, dacryphilia if you squint, a sprinkle of cockwarming, rough sex, praise and the teensiest bit of degradation(?), tummy cumshot, light aftercare (more done offscreen), mm i think that's it!

“a-ah, ‘yennie, ‘s too much,” you sniffle pathetically, pawing weakly at the hand that’s been toying between your legs for the better part of the last two hours. jeongin coos down at you from where he props himself up on an arm near your side, tilting his head as his lips curl into a smile, deep dimples popping out as if to mock your pitiful state. his other hand stays occupied with your silky heat, and just the sight of the veins protruding in his busy forearm as he works you has you soaking the sheets alone.

“it’s too much, baby?” he echoes condescendingly, eyes crinkling into mirthful crescents at the sound of your pussy squelching obscenely when he finally works two fingers inside your pussy with no resistance. you moan loudly at the delicious stretch of his long, dexterous fingers, delighted at finally having something inside after only being rubbed at and rubbed at up until now, and he grunts in response.

“shit… tight little cunt,” he mutters, crooking his fingers just right to prod at that gooey spot deep within. your whole body jolts as if connected to a live wire, and he moans breathily at the sight. “ah, fuck, is it there, baby? that’s what you want?”

you cry out in response, eyes slamming shut as you nod desperately. your hips begin to hump embarrassingly fast against his palm, but you’re so far gone you can’t even consider stopping yourself. jeongin chuckles at the tears welling up in your eyes as you fuck on his hand like a rabbit in heat, eagerly chasing your orgasm as it draws closer and closer.

he surprisingly allows it without complaint; if you had a drop of coherency left in your cotton-filled brain, you'd question his merciful behavior, but you're submerged too deep in the fuzzy headspace you oh so love to even think about anything other than the pleasure he's giving you. you babble out your incoherent thanks and rut impossibly harder against his palm, but just as your stomach begins to contract and the heat in your abdomen roars to an inferno, he pulls away.

you nearly scream aloud in frustration when your clit pulses angrily at the ruined orgasm. “jeongin!" you wail. "please, don’t be c-cruel,” sniffling, you shove your own hand down to swipe needily at your clit, pretty little head swooning with so much pleasure you can't even consider the consequences your desperation may bring. “need you, daddy, please, please please!” you cry out, frame thrashing wildly against the sheets with how sensitive you are now.

your boyfriend grunts and shifts to loom over you, brushing away his dark bangs so he can see how fucked out you are beneath him. he scoffs once, disbelieving at how you're still babbling and even beginning to drool onto his sheets, before he lands a harsh slap to your cheek. "hush, baby," he spits out, palming his flushed cock right over your heaving soft tummy. the hit leaves your skin hot and stinging in its wake, and you gasp. "god, you're so fucking needy, huh?" he drawls, polishing his tip with a sensitive hiss.

you didn't even realize the slap brought fresh tears to your eyes until they start falling right over the delicate spot where you were struck and you whine, clit pulsing with renewed delight at the pain. it finally manages to shut you up and he smirks when you eventually manage to still and fall silent, save for your intermittent sniffles and heavy breathing. he groans and tips his head forward to press an uncoordinated kiss to your lips at the sight of you peering up at him through wet lashes, patiently waiting for whatever he'll dish out next.

"ah, you're so good to me, sweetheart," jeongin murmurs into your mouth before tangling his tongue with yours. you moan against his lips as he sucks filthily on your tongue, and your noises only grow louder when you feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. you break the kiss to pant and stare down at where he pushes in until your head subconsciously falls back against the pillow at the stretch. despite him preparing you with his digits not long ago, it's still a tight fit every time you fuck your boyfriend simply because of his sheer size.

the soaking wet warmth that envelops him must take a toll on him too, especially with how long he's been working the both of you up. jeongin moans at the feeling and his arms begin to shake as he bottoms out. he leans down to lap sloppily at the crook under your jaw while you both catch your breaths. "just warm my cock for a li'l, okay, baby?" he mutters, abs clenching erratically as he does his best to stave off his orgasm. you nod, eager to please and be good, but it doesn't take long before you get squirmy.

who can blame you, though? with his hard cock finally sheathed inside after endless teasing, it's a wonder how you've even held on this long at all. you find yourself writhing again before you know it, fingers threaded into the sheets near your head as you begin to mindlessly beg and tilt your hips up, eager for stimulation. "daddy, please move, plea—"

"sh, shh, angel," he cuts you off, pulling back to loom over you once again. "i know, i know," he croons sweetly when you begin to cry again at the first gentle rolls of his hips. he kisses those salty tears away and begins to thrust harder, rougher, until you're eventually being shifted up the bed with the force and the headboard is rattling against the wall in a steady rhythm.

you don't even register your volume until jeongin is pressing a clammy palm against your mouth to muffle you, still fucking into you like a toy. "shhh, shh," he soothes again, and your eyes roll back when a slight shift of the angle has his tip suddenly pounding into your g-spot. "that's it, sweetheart, just take it. i'll let you come soon, okay? y-you.. fuck," he pants, cock twitching deep inside when you clench hard at his words, "you're so beautiful. milkin' my cock for me, bein' such a good girl, hm?" you whine, eyes slammed shut and brows furrowed in pleasure, and the pornographic moan he lets out at the sight finally tips you over the edge.

"oh, o-oh," jeongin gasps at the way your walls flutter around him, sucking him in deep and demanding his seed. "shit, baby," he grunts, thrusts growing erratic and losing their rhythm as his own orgasm builds impossibly fast. "cream all over my cock like that, and i'll– ah, fuck- cumming cumming—!" he cries; just before you can feel warmth flood your poor, abused pussy, his cock is sliding out of you with an embarrassingly loud noise and he's painting the plush skin below your bellybutton with ropes of white, warm cum.

he jerks and milks himself above you with his eyes pressed shut and mouth wide open as a long, drawn-out groan escapes him. when he's finally spent, he collapses beside you in a sweaty heap with a sated sigh. it's the last thing you see before your eyes drift shut in exhaustion, and when they crack open again he's plastered against your clean stomach, head pillowed happily on a naked boob.

your throat clicks dryly when you try to speak, and he's quick to snap up and fumble with a nearby water bottle, swiftly unscrewing it and pressing it to your lips. when he deems you adequately hydrated, he pulls away and sets it down as you roll your neck around, stretching out your limbs. "hey, sleepyhead. you enjoy your nap?" he grins, returning to his spot amongst your chest. your eyes roll but you give a dopey smile right back, fucked out and soft from the afterglow.

"mhm..." you sigh, tilting his chin up for a kiss. jeongin complies with a happy noise and you pull back before things can get heated again. your poor cunt can't handle another round just yet.

"love you," he murmurs, tucking his face into your neck. you thread your hands through his dark tresses, mussed and a bit smelly from all the activity, but you love it all the same. as his breath begins to peter out into a slower, more even rhythm, your own breath begins to sync as you all but melt into the mattress under his comforting weight. "love you, too," you mutter before slipping off into sleep once more, satisfied, warm, and sated in the arms of the man you love most.

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏ, ɴᴏᴡ ᴅʀᴏᴘ ɪᴛ

…𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵

smut, puppy play, roughdom!chris, slight degradation, softdom!matt, oral sex (m!receiving and f!receiving), rough sex, slight daddy/sir kink, bdsm, roleplay, minor choking, use of belt as collar, consent is given but with power dynamics, humiliation, tension, multiple partners

PLEASE read at your own discretion and PLEASE do research if u want to get this kind of freaky !! consent is sexy !! stay safe everyone:>

inspired by @theyluvivi bunny!matt and puppy!chris <3

word count - 2k

She’s curled up between them, knees pressed together, hands twitching against her thighs. Eager. Waiting.

Matt hums beside her, dragging a slow, lazy hand over her shoulder, his touch light enough to make her shiver. “Good puppy,” he murmurs, voice smooth, measured, like he’s rewarding her for simply sitting still. “So good for us.”

Chris scoffs from the other side, sprawled out like he has all the time in the world. “For now,” he mutters, tipping his head, watching her with something sharp in his eyes. His fingers brush over her knee, then press down, spreading her legs apart just enough to make her react.

“Chris,” Matt warns, but it’s barely a reprimand. Like he’s amused. Like he expected this.

Chris only smirks. “What? Puppy likes it.” His fingers trail higher, featherlight. Teasing. He stops just before it gets to be too much, pulling away like it’s nothing. Like she’s not already on edge.

She exhales, letting out a soft whine, shifting the tiniest bit closer to Matt without meaning to. And Matt notices. Of course, he notices. His lips quirk like he’s trying not to smile.

“Needy little thing,” he muses, fingers tilting her chin, making her look at him. “We don’t have to rush, sweet puppy.”

Chris laughs, low and lazy. “Oh, but she wants to.”

Her breath catches. Matt’s thumb strokes over her jaw, slow.

“Come here,” Matt murmurs, tugging her forward, guiding her easily like he knows she’ll listen. She barely has time to react before Chris grips her waist from behind, pulling her into his lap with a rough little chuckle. 

She nuzzles into his touch, her body arching instinctively, a soft groan escaping her.

“Good puppies wait their turn,” Chris says, voice full of something dark and amused. His hands grip her hips, holding her still even as she squirms.

Matt watches with something warm in his gaze, but there’s a challenge there, too. “You gonna listen, pup?”

Chris’s fingers tighten just enough to make her whine. “Or do we need to train you a little more?”

Her whole body tenses at that, heat creeping up her neck, because the way they say it… like it’s not even a question, like they already know the answer… makes her stomach flip. She presses her lips together, trying to stay still, trying to be good. But Chris notices the hesitation, the way she twitches slightly, barely resisting the urge to move.

“Tsk tsk,” he clicks his tongue. “Already disobeying?” His grip shifts, his fingers pressing into the softness of her thighs as he leans in closer, voice dipping lower, rougher. “Bad puppy.”

Matt sighs, but it’s not disappointment. It’s expectation. Like he knew she wouldn’t last long. His hand comes up to smooth over her cheek, fingers grazing the corner of her lips. “Is that true, sweetheart?” he asks, voice deceptively soft. “Are you being bad?”

“Nuh uh”, she shakes her head, wide-eyed, but Matt only hums, unconvinced. 

Chris, on the other hand, scoffs. “Lying, too? Definitely bad.” He shifts beneath her, his thigh pressing up just enough to make her gasp. “Maybe we should put you on all fours, see if you behave better that way.”

Matt’s fingers tighten under her chin, keeping her still as he considers. “Hmm.” His thumb ghosts over her bottom lip, pressing just enough to make her part her mouth. “Or maybe she just needs something to keep her mouth busy.”

Chris grins, slow and sharp. “Such a naughty puppy,” he murmurs, tilting her head toward him. He adjusts her on his lap before reaching underneath his t-shirt to his waist, undoing his belt and pulling it out of his belt loops. 

She gets visibly excited, smiling and opening her mouth, panting slightly. Chris just smirks. 

Matt chuckles from the other side, while Chris’ eyes are sharp, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re so excited, puppy,” Matt comments, voice low, almost teasing. His fingers brush along her arm, making her tense. “She’s already lost, huh Chris?” he adds with a quiet laugh, leaning in, voice dangerously sweet. 

“She’s such a bad puppy. Never listens. Never learns.” Chris taunts.

Her whole body freezes at the sound of his voice, but Matt’s hand on her shoulder is grounding. “Wait,” Matt says softly, his tone reassuring, firm but kind. “Stay calm, girl.”

But Chris doesn’t share the same patience. His fingers trail down her side, pressing just enough to make her flinch. “Sit,” he orders, voice rougher, commanding. “I said sit, puppy. And stay.”

Her eyes glisten as she obeys, her body almost vibrating with excitement. As she lowers herself, her cheeks flush, she feels the heat of both their gazes on her. Chris takes the belt and twists it into a loose open sem-circle, reaching it around her neck in one movement. Her body stiffens for just a moment, but the next moment, she’s all soft, letting herself melt into his touch.

“You’re so obedient when you want to be,” he murmurs and then he smirks, proud of himself. “We gotta get you a real collar, puppy.”

“That’s right,” Matt coos, stroking her hair. “Can’t have you running off. But you’re loyal aren’t you?” She tilts her head into his hand, seeking more affection.

Chris tightens the belt around her neck, just tight enough for her to feel a light pressure, but in no way restricting her breathing. “Such a pathetic puppy. You’d do anything for a treat, wouldn’t you?”

She nods eagerly, her breath catching as she looks up at him, eyes full of need.

Slowly, teasingly, Chris undoes his jeans, pulling them down. The stiff outline of his cock through his boxers makes her mouth water, and she hungrily looks between his lap and face, desperate for any kind of permission.

“Go on, pup.” He says the name mockingly, pulling her slightly forward by the belt. “Play with your toy.”

Chris grins wickedly as he puts his fingers around the belt around her neck, the leather digging into her skin just enough to send a thrill through her. He pulls her closer, until her face is inches from his hardening cock, straining against his boxers.

She tilts her head, a soft, submissive “yes, please” slipping from her lips. Matt and Chris observe the way her hands tremble slightly, reaching out. It’s all the permission they need for the rest of the night.

“Open wide, puppy,” Chris growls, his voice dripping with lust and dominance. “Show me how eager you are.”

Matt watches intently, his own erection visible through his jeans as he reaches out to stroke her hair soothingly. “Easy now, girl,” he murmurs, but there’s a hint of excitement in his tone.

“You want this, don’t you?” Chris taunts, his fingers pulling his boxers down. A soft whimper escapes her before she can stop it. “Want to taste daddy’s cock?”

She nods eagerly, offering Chris her best puppy dog eyes. She reaches out tentatively, barely containing her enthusiasm, before wrapping both her hand around his dick, thumb moving ever so lightly.

Chris yanks her away by the makeshift collar. “Uh uh, be a good puppy. Drop it.” She whines, reaching out, but Chris swipes away her hands.

A warm smile spread across Matt’s face, enjoying the sight of her desperation. “That’s our good girl. So hungry for it.” His hand slides down to massage her breast through her shirt. “Go on then, puppy. Show us what that pretty mouth can do.” 

Matt’s other hand tangles in her hair, gripping tightly as he guides her face closer to Chris's exposed cock. “What do you say? Think our pet deserves a taste?”

Chris smirks cruelly, fisting his hand in her hair and forcing her to look up at him. “Only if you get it nice and wet for me, okay? Then maybe I’ll let Matt give you a treat too.”

She nods once more, feeling heat flood to her core. With a mischievous smile, she tilted her head, lightly nuzzling against each of their hands. “Please. I want to be your good girl. Please master. Please sir,” she teased softly, as she met their gazes with a playful twinkle in her eye.

Matt and Chris waste no more time, together pushing her head onto the latter’s exposed cock, immediately forcing her to deepthroat it. She sputters and gags, spit immediately drooling all over the thick member.

Chris groans in pleasure as her hot mouth envelops his throbbing cock, her gagging only serving to heighten his arousal. He thrusts gently, not yet fully sheathing himself in her tight throat. As she begins to adjust, she licks furiously all over it, lapping up the precum leaking from the tip.

“That's it, take it,” Chris praises, his grip on her hair tightening. “Fuck, puppy, your mouth feels so good. Look at how eager you are, little one.”

Matt watches, transfixed, as she struggles to breathe around Chris's girth. A shiver runs down his spine at the sight of his brother’s cock disappearing into her willing mouth. He releases her breast to trail his fingers down her back, giving her ass a firm squeeze.

“So obedient, so eager to please,” Matt murmurs, his own erection straining painfully against his zipper. “I think our pet deserves a reward.”

Without warning, Matt drops to his knees behind her, yanking her hips back and pulling her shorts down to present herself to him. He buries his face between her thighs, kissing along the backs of them before his tongue delves into her soaked pussy. No hesitation.

“Mmm, so fucking wet. Attagirl pup,” Matt moans against her slick folds, his nose pressing into her clit as he licks and sucks greedily. “Can never get enough of your sweet pussy.”

Matt laps at her dripping slit, savouring her taste as he brings her closer and closer to the edge. His fingers dig into her soft flesh, holding her in place as he devours her pussy like a starving man.

Her legs already start to tremble, her knees nearly buckling as Chris continues to relentlessly facefuck her, his cock slamming into the back of her throat over and over. The dual assault has her seeing stars, her mind foggy with pleasure. With renewed vigor, Matt suckles on her throbbing clit, his fingers probing her slick entrance. He curls them just right, finding the spot that makes her whole body seize up, a whine escaping her.

Matt lavishes attention on her quivering hole, his skilled tongue driving her wild with ecstasy. He hums in approval as she squirms and mewls beneath him, her sweet cum coating his chin. “You going to come for us, puppy?” Matt coaxes, his fingers finding her sensitive clit and rubbing in time with his devouring mouth. “C’mon, puppy. Let go, we’ve got you.”

With a dog-like whine, her body seizes, her orgasm rapidly crashing over her in waves of intense bliss. Matt drinks down every drop of her release, his tongue working overtime to prolong her pleasure, his own cock throbbing in time with her spasms.

As she floats down from her high, Chris finally pulls out of her mouth, leaving her gasping for air. His release coats her chin, and her own release drips down her thighs. He gives her hair a rough tug, forcing her to look up at him even though she’s wrecked from being on all fours for so long.

“You were such a loud puppy. Woke the whole neighbourhood up.” He undos the belt on her neck, but still holds it there. “Bad puppies don’t get anymore.”

She whimpers desperately, but Chris is already standing up, walking away, belt in hand, leaving her with her other master.

Matt helps her into his lap, and lets her lick and kiss at his neck as he pets her.

“It’s okay puppy. You were such a good girl for us today. Always such a good girl, aren’t you?”

creds to rose for the dividers!! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: um. chat. listen.

taglist: @sturnslutz @snoopychris @hazedsturns @sturns-mermaid @chrissweetheart @cowboylikenat @camzeecorner @sturniolo101 @courta13 @sweetshuga @st7rnioioss @throatgoat4u @shadowthesim237 @emely9274 @sturnberries @bluestriips @lovergirl4gracieabrams @chrisslut04 @tezzzzzzzz @strnilolover @vanteguccir @chrislova

till next time !

[chxrryhansen]

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍

Pairing; Dark!Rafe Cameron x Innocent!Reader

Warnings; CNC!!!! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. smut, extremely dark themes, unprotected sex, public sex, choking, drugging? (rafe manipulates reader into snorting a line) degrading terms (slut, whore) loss of virginity, tiny bit of blood, breeding kink, size difference, daddy kink, dumbification, dacryphillia, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Based on x.

authors note; i really thought about never finishing this because i just haven’t had the motivation or wanted to write in quite a while. but i’ve been neglecting you guys! so i tried my best to finish it, however i literally hate this fic so much so please don’t come at me bc i know its shit😛 its around like 1.3k words so… take it or leave it ig.

“Hey, so uh, you come here often?” The boy says, rubbing his nose with his right finger while motioning with his beer filled hand to the party further down the beach.

Your friend had dragged you to one of the weekend bonfires at the beach, kooks only of course. Which is exactly what you were, a sheltered, spoilt, kook. Right down to the core.

Your family had given you everything you ever wanted growing up, paying for homeschooling from the best private tutor on the island, buying you whatever the new pair of heels on the market was, but that never deterred your sweet heart.

You weren’t a prude and even though you were, you didn’t act spoilt, you appreciated everything your family did for you. You didn’t have many friends considering the private life you lived. Your best friend was your neighbour, both of you having grown up together, your father and hers both being in the same business really tied the strings in your friendship.

She was quite the opposite of you, partying every weekend, hanging out with boys and drinking to the point she was incapable of walking. Long story short, she had begged you to come, a promise of a sleepover and movie night afterwards.

Except that wasn’t the case. Within 15 minutes she had found a new man to latch onto, leaving you sitting by yourself on a wooden log infront of a small campfire someone must’ve ditched.

You looked up, a tall muscular boy with a backwards cap staring down at you, his pretty blues lighting up in the reflection of the fire. You didn’t answer him, being too caught up in the flare of his strong presence. His aura was engulfing, your body instantly being drawn to him.

You didn’t know it of course, but Rafe did.

One look at your pretty face and the sweet scent of your purity and he just knew he had to have it. A smirk appeared on the boys face as he took a seat on the log next to you, his eyes never leaving your own.

“Gonna’ answer me, sweetheart?”

“Uhm, n-no not really, it’s my first. My friends around here somewhere… not sure where she went.” You murmured.

Rafes smirk widened, how blessed he was to have stumbled upon a sweet, innocent, little bunny like you.

“S’okay. I can keep you company. Name’s Rafe.”

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a little white baggie filled with a powdery substance. Noticing your stare he asks “You want some?”

“What is that stuff?” you mumble, knitting your eyebrows together in confusion.

“This shits the good stuff, s’ like powdered sugar. Gets you feelin’ real good, one line of this and you’ll feel on top of the world, sweetheart.” he smirks moving closer to the point your knees touch, yet his eyes still don’t leave your own.

“C’mere, lay back a little.” and do you do.

Without question.

Which of course stirs Rafe’s dominant instinct, he just cant stop thinking about shoving you onto your knees and fucking your throat til you choke on his fat cock.

But he’ll save that for later.

Rafe proceeds to pour a little powder onto your chest, sitting perfectly above your perky tits. He then reaches into his pocket and picks out a bank card, then using it to create a smooth line on your chest.

He moves in. Snorting the line right off your tits. A tingly feeling appeared in between your thighs. The sensation of his hot breath on your chest making your own increase.

He leans back and looks towards the sky, his curtains framing his face as he does so, lifting a finger and closing a nostril he sniffs deeply, sighing in relief afterwards. “See, easy as that. Your turn, beautiful.”

“M’kay” you shrug.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Rafe shifts on the log, lying down on his back and spreading his lets wide. He repeats the process on his abs, pouring the coke, creating the line and then ushering you forwards.

“Remember. All you gotta’ do is cover one of your nostrils, and use the other to sniff it right up. You got that?”

“Mhm” You nod excitedly.

“Ah ah ah. Use your words.”

“Yes Rafe. I got it.” You whisper, your pretty doe eyes staring up at him.

“Good girl.” He groans as you begin to snort the coke from his abs. His cock is painfully hard which obviously you didn’t notice, his pre cum leaking from his swollen tip, desperate to have your soppy cunt wrapped around it.

Within 5 minutes the drugs had hit you.

Your head was spinning and your control of your own body wavy, your movements restricted.

“I-i feel kinda fuzzy. Don’t like it…think i’m gonna’ go home now.” Rafe debates begging you to stay, but a better plan crosses his mind.

An eery smirk appears across his handsome features. “How about i walk you, s’ not safe for a pretty girl like you to be out in the dark all by yourself.”

The second you’re out of sight from the beach a hand wraps around your mouth, Rafe’s body pressing your own against a tall tree, blocking any escape. Your eyes go wide in fear, tears beginning to well up as you attempt to scream.

Your tears should make him irritated, angry even. But it doesn’t. It only turns him on more. His dick growing harder by the second.

“Shut the fuck up or i-i swear to god i’ll slit your throat. Can’t believe you kept this innocent act up. I can practically smell how soaked you are you fuckin’ slut.”

Before you can even think of screaming you’re cut off by your own wail as Rafe’s cock disappears between your folds. He bottoms out in one harsh thrust, your legs become slack as he grips your hips, holding you upright on his length.

“So fuckin’ tight. Gonna’ fuck you so good you’ll forget your own god damn name.” He growls.

The sound of clapping skin begins to echo, the skin of your ass turning raw due to his brutal thrusts. The tears don’t stop, only beginning to mix with the drool and sweat leaking down your face. Your wails and whimpers turn to moans as your cunt soaks his length.

Rafe knew you were perfect, that’s why he picked you. But this just proved him right.

“Fuckkk. You like that? Who knew you’d be such a dirty whore f’ me.” He chuckles, throwing his head back in ecstasy, yet his thrusts don’t slow. His pace almost animalistic.

The sensation of your pussy clenching tells Rafe what he wanted to know.

Rafe lets out a loud groan. “Jesus. You’re gonna’ fuckin’ cum aren’t you? Getting off on your rapists cock. Ask me. Ask daddy if you can cum.”

His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing tightly as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Please can i cum daddy? I need it s-so bad.” You whine, shifting your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on his shaft, your back still pinned against the tree.

“Cum. Cum for daddy. Holy shitttt, pussys grippin’ me like a fuckin’ vice.”

Your cream coats his cock as you scream, biting your lip harshly to try and muffle your pleasure.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if the whole beach heard that from here you dumb slut.” He groans, lifting a hand to fist your hair, tugging harshly.

His thick cock continues to pummel your insides, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

As Rafe looks down he notices a glint of red at the base of his shaft. The sight of your cream and blood alone brings him closer to the edge.

“Gonna’ cum in this pretty cunt, can’t wait to fill you up, baby. Daddy’s gonna’ cum.”

His release is met with a loud growl, his balls throbbing as his load fills you, thick ropes of his hot cum shoot into your pussy.

“That’s ittttt. fuck. Taking my cum like such a good girl.”

Rafe is slow to pull out, inching you off his cock as he pants trying to catch his breath. His hold however never leaves you, ensuring you don’t fall due to the brutal fucking you just received.

His attention is grabbed at the sound of your sobs, his thumb swiping over your cheek and collecting your tears. His pretty blues stare into your own, almost waiting for you to run.

But you don’t.

“Shh Shh Shh. No more tears. Daddy’s gonna’ take care of you from now on.”

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

𓂃𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 . PLEASURE AND PAIN ?!

⊹₊⟡⋆ paring : incubus Phainon x witch fem!reader

⊹₊⟡⋆ synopsis : As a powerful witch, you’ve always been in control—until Phainon, an incubus with a devilish charm, crosses your path. He’s the temptation you never saw coming, a force that leaves you powerless in the face of desire. With every encounter, magic and lust intertwine, pushing the boundaries of pleasure and control. You may be a master of spells, but Phainon has a magic of his own, one that makes you crave the very thing you swore you’d never surrender to.

⊹₊⟡⋆ warnings : nsfw/smut, vaginal, creampie, daddy kink, leash play, power dynamics, dominance/submission, rough s*x, hand job, explicit language, c*m play, chocking, manipulation, dark content/themes, fingering, rituals/blood rituals, objectification, p*ssy teasing, size kink, consent boundaries pushed, dubcon, humiliation and degradation, also a bit of fluff/aftercare. :>

⊹₊⟡⋆ note : dunno if this is ooc for Phainon.

⊹₊⟡⋆ edit : A LOTTT OF TYPOS. (I edited them) Thanks for anon for telling me.

The moonlight filtered through the thick forest, casting shadows that seemed to dance and pulse with an energy of their own. The air smelled of earth and something darker, something more intoxicating. You stood in the clearing, hands raised, whispering incantations with practiced ease. The power flowed through you, a familiar, heady rush that you had come to crave.

Tonight was supposed to be like any other ritual—a simple offering to the ancient forces you had learned to wield so expertly. But as you uttered the final words, a cold chill swept through the air, and the ground beneath you trembled.

Before you could even react, he appeared.

Phainon.

The incubus was a living manifestation of temptation. His fiery eyes locked onto yours with a predatory gleam, and his lips curled into a grin that made your pulse quicken. The darkness that surrounded him seemed to press in, pulling at you, urging you to give in.

"Did you think you could call for power, witch?" His voice was low, dripping with dark amusement. "You might be able to summon it, but you can’t control it—not when I’m here."

You knew the danger, felt it in your bones, but there was something in his gaze, something in the air, that made you hunger for it. Hunger for him.

Without a word, he closed the distance between you, his fingers trailing over your skin like fire. His touch was a command, not a request, and you couldn’t stop yourself from responding, your body betraying your mind.

"Strip," Phainon ordered, his voice like silk wrapped in a command. You obeyed before you even realized it, your clothes falling away until you stood bare beneath the cool night sky, vulnerable yet burning with desire.

The incubus’s eyes raked over you, his gaze possessive, hungry. He stepped closer, his fingers tracing the curve of your throat before he snapped a leash into your hand, the leather cold against your skin.

“Tonight, you belong to me,” he whispered, pulling the leash gently, dragging you into a world where you no longer had the power, but where pleasure and submission were all you needed.

The leash felt oddly heavy in your hands, its cool, smooth leather both a promise and a warning. Phainon’s eyes locked onto you, his grin widening as he saw how easily you obeyed, his words already weaving through your body like a spell.

"You think you can summon power, witch?" he taunted, voice thick with dark amusement. "But what good is power if you don’t know how to use it?"

His fingers traced down your neck, leaving trails of fire behind. You shivered at his touch, not out of fear, but something darker, something you couldn’t deny. He pulled the leash, just enough to make you move closer. Your heartbeat thundered in your chest, and you bit your lip to keep from reacting too loudly.

“I didn't summon you,” you managed to whisper, voice shaking with a mix of defiance and need. “You came on your own.”

Phainon chuckled, low and dangerous, his face inches from yours. “You can say that, but I know exactly what you crave.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, the teasing was gone from his eyes. His grip on your chin tightened, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Strip,” he commanded, tone brokering no argument.

You hesitated, but only for a second. You knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him. Slowly, deliberately, you shed your clothes until you stood bare before him, the air cold against your heated skin. His gaze slid over every inch of you, the intensity making your legs wobble.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growled, his hands now roaming over your body, touching, teasing. It made you ache for more, the power shift between you only adding to the need building inside.

You tried to fight it, tried to push back the overwhelming desire, but Phainon wasn’t having it. His hand snapped the leash, pulling you toward him. "On your knees."

It wasn’t a question. His voice was dark, demanding, and all you could do was obey, dropping to your knees, your eyes never leaving his.

“Good,” he murmured, and you could hear the approval in his voice, like it pleased him that you knew your place. He tilted your head back, the grip on your chin bruising, his thumb brushing your lips. “You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?”

You swallowed hard, the words caught in your throat, but you forced them out. “I’m not some... toy, Phainon. I’m not just going to let you—”

“Not some toy?” His lips curled into a grin. “Then why are you already on your knees, witch?”

You couldn’t answer. The truth was written all over your face, your body betraying you in the most delicious ways. Phainon leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You will beg for it soon enough. I’ll make sure of that.”

Phainon’s smirk deepened, his gaze never wavering from yours as if he were enjoying every moment of your struggle. “Still pretending you’re in control?” he mused, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of your jaw, the touch almost mocking. “How amusing.”

He was right. Every inch of your body betrayed the resolve you tried so hard to maintain. Even though your mind screamed at you to resist, to fight back, your body was already responding to him—aching, yearning, desperate.

“I’m not pretending anything,” you shot back, the words barely a whisper as your chest rose and fell in rapid succession. “You’re just... not what I expected.”

“Oh?” He chuckled, low and rich, the sound a smooth caress against your senses. “And what did you expect, hmm? A soft touch? Maybe some gentle seduction?” He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m an incubus, sweetheart. I don’t do gentle.”

His hand tightened around the leash again, pulling you toward him with a sudden jerk. “You’re mine for tonight. Don’t try to fool yourself into thinking otherwise.”

The words were harsh, but there was an undeniable pull to them, a darkness in his voice that sent a shiver straight down your spine. You found yourself unable to look away, your pulse racing in sync with his every command.

Phainon’s gaze softened just slightly—just enough for you to catch a glimpse of something more than just hunger. “You could’ve resisted,” he said, his voice quieter now, though still dripping with that same commanding tone. “But you didn’t. You knew exactly what you wanted the moment you summoned me, didn’t you?”

You opened your mouth to argue, to find any words to protest, but they were lost in the heat of the moment. There was no denying it. You could feel it—the need, the craving, the desperate want to give in to him completely.

“I—” You started, but Phainon silenced you with a firm tug on the leash, pulling you closer until your faces were inches apart. His eyes were intense, the kind of intensity that dared you to challenge him.

“Don’t speak,” he commanded, his voice low and deadly serious. “Just feel.”

And with that, his lips crashed onto yours, hot, demanding, and all-consuming. Every ounce of defiance you had left melted under the force of his kiss, your body aching, desperate for him to claim you fully.

Phainon pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his gaze dark and unyielding, like he was seeing straight through you. "I thought witches were supposed to be strong," he mused, his voice dripping with amusement. "You seem... a little weak for that title."

You clenched your fists, your body trembling with a mix of anger and desire. “Don’t push me, Phainon. I’m not some—”

“Not some what?” He cut you off with another tug of the leash, pulling you forward until you were almost flush against him. “Not some helpless little thing?” He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a chill down your spine. “Because you sure as hell look like one right now.”

You hissed through your teeth, anger flaring up, but his hand was on your throat again, not enough to choke, but just enough to remind you who was in charge. His fingers were light, almost teasing, but it made your breath catch, your mind dizzy from the power he was holding over you.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, leaning down, lips brushing against your ear. “I’ll make sure you remember your place. But you’re going to enjoy every second of it.”

His words were a challenge, a promise, and somehow that only made your pulse quicken even more. You didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of giving in to him, to letting go completely, made your body ache in ways you couldn’t control.

"Stop fighting it," he urged, his grip tightening, a soft, commanding growl in his chest. "I’ll make this worth it, I promise you. But only if you let go."

Your lips parted to retort, but no words came out. Instead, you found yourself nodding, just a little, the slightest admission that you wanted—no, needed—this. Needed him.

“Good,” Phainon purred, the approval in his voice like a drug you couldn’t quit. “I knew you were smarter than that.”

He stepped back, tugging at the leash again, pulling you closer until your knees buckled under the force of his pull. “On your back,” he ordered, his voice unshaken, leaving no room for hesitation. "Now."

You obeyed, settling on the cold ground, your body laid out before him, vulnerable and bare. Every nerve in your body screamed for more, for him to touch, to claim you, to make you his in the only way he knew how.

Phainon crouched down, his hands gripping your thighs, parting them with ease, his eyes glowing with that hungry fire. “You’ll beg me for it soon enough. Don’t try to deny it.”

You swallowed hard, the words heavy in the air between you. But in that moment, you realized you didn’t want to deny it.

His fingers traced over your inner thighs, slowly gliding upward, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He paused just short of your core, teasing, his touch whisper-soft and maddeningly light. "So responsive to me," he murmured, as if pleased with himself.Then, as quick as a flicker of smoke, his hand made contact.

Two long, slender digits delved into your folds with ease, coaxing out your arousal with a mere stroke. Your body betrayed you, arching into the sensation, a needy moan slipping past your parted lips."So wet," Phainon commented, his thumb circling your clit in a tantalizing rhythm. "It's a good thing you surrendered willingly. I'd hate to force it out of you."

He pumped a steady beat, his fingers curled just so to hit all the right spots, driving you insane while somehow keeping you from reaching climax. It was a balancing act, and one you suspected he'd mastered over centuries of seduding countless human victims.

His thumb danced, a merciless tease, over your throbbing pearl, and you found yourself thrashing beneath his touch, desperate for more, any more he cared to give.Phainon's other hand came into play, joining in the torture.

Phainon’s fingers wrapped around one of your tits, squeezing just hard enough to elicit a whimper from your lips. He'd know every response, every subtle twitch and quake, and it would be agonizing.

A thrill ran through him at the prospect of stripping the last vestige of control from you. He pinched a nipple between thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth, while his other hand never wavered from your sensitive flesh. Two fingers pumped steadily in time with his thumb, maintaining that maddening pace against your clit.

The other hand continued its exploration of your tits, fingers sweeping over the swell, tracing the contours until he gripped the other nipple. It was a cruel delight, playing both sources of pleasure against each other, keeping you on the razor's edge with nothing but the promise of more. Phainon’s thumb danced harder against your clit, increasing the tempo just enough to heighten the friction, the pressure.

The wetness was overwhelming now, soaking through his fingers with a slick heat."You'll come for me," Phainon breathed, his lips grazing your ear. "It's only a matter of when, not if. Your body wants this, craves it, needs it."

"Ngh—daddy! I’m going to cum!" you cried out loud, your pussy clenching around his fingers.

The desperate, pleasured cry that tore from your throat only spurred him on. Your core was squeezing around his fingers, a rhythmic pulsing that threatened to undo him, but he held steady.

No, he'd make you come like this, at his command, before he allowed you any relief. "You'd better," Phainon ground out, his thumb rubbing merciless circles over your swollen clit. "Because I'm nowhere near finished with you."

He quickened the pace of his fingers, pumping in and out as the pressure mounted. Your body was tightening, coiling, the tension building to unbearable heights.

"Now!" Phainon barked, his fingers plunging deep as he pinched your nipple with unyielding force. The dual assault pushed you over the brink. Your sex spasmed wildly around his plunging digits, milking them as ecstasy ripped through your core. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, drowning you in white-hot bliss as you came undone in his grip.

Phainon's lips curved in triumph as he felt your inner walls clench and flutter around him. "Yes," he murmured, savoring the moment. "That's it. Take it, witch."

The pulsing of your sex, now hypersensitive following the intensity of your climax, continued to milk his fingers. Your climax was still rippling through you, and your back arched as if begging for more. But he wasn't done with you yet.Withdrawing his touch from your trembling flesh, Phainon stood, slowly stripping off his weapons and armor piece by piece.

The cool air of the dungeon washed over his skin, making him shiver slightly as he revealed his muscular physique, the white marks of his tattoos standing out against his pale flesh.He towered over you, his imposing figure almost intimidating after the intimate scene they'd just shared.

Despite the differences in their natural abilities, there was a power about him that drew you in, an aura of dominance that was impossible to resist. Your gaze was drawn to his hardening cock, already sporting impressive length and girth, a clear sign that he, too, was aroused.

His eyes, those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see into your very soul, gleamed with dark desire and sinister intent. Lowering himself onto the bed of furs, Phainon spread his legs invitingly, as if presenting himself for your exploration and pleasure.

A devilish grin curled his lips, and his voice took on a sensual, seductive timbre. "Well, witch? Doesn't it seem time to return the favor?" His hands reached for the hem of his pants, sliding them down over powerful thighs, hips that shifted fluidly with every subtle movement.

Muscles rippled under fair, unblemished skin as he kicked the fabric aside, fully exposing himself. As if entranced, your eyes drifted over the expanse of his torso, down to the thick, substantial evidence of his arousal, cock jutting proudly from a thatch of pale white hair. "Don't tell me I've got you weak in the knees already," Phainon teased with a smirk as he reclined back on his elbows, watching you with predatory interest, awaiting your next move with bated breath.

You took in a sharp breath, your body still trembling, but your voice remained steady, filled with defiance and the hunger you couldn’t deny. Your eyes met his, unblinking, as you slowly crawled closer, each movement deliberate and confident.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Phainon," you said, your voice low and dangerous, a smirk curling at the edges of your lips. "You think you’ve got me? Think again. I’m not some helpless toy you can just control."

Your hands moved to his chest, tracing the lines of muscle beneath your fingers. "You may be an incubus, but I know exactly how to handle power. The question is... can you handle me?"

A low, indulgent chuckle rumbled in Phainon's chest as your dainty fingers danced over his skin, tracing the contours of his muscles with a familiarity that spoke volumes of the intimate encounter they'd just shared. "Oh, witch," he drawled, reaching up to wrap his strong arms around you, holding you pressed against his warm, enticing body.

"I think it's quite transparent what you crave. And yes, I most certainly can handle you."His hands ghosted down your spine, coming to rest on the curve of your ass as he pulled you impossibly closer, their sexes now aligned, the heat of his desire brushing against your still-sensitive folds. "You forget yourself," Phainon murmured, his lips skimming the nape of your neck in a soft, teasing caress.

"I am not a novice. I know exactly what I want, and I'll take it however I please."

Leaning in, he inhaled your scent, his nostrils flaring with arousal as he savored the heady aroma of your desire. With deliberate, unhurried movements, he guided your hand to wrap around his thick erection, the contrast between your soft skin and his hard length a delight for both of you.

"I want you to worship my cock," Phainon hissed with pleasure as your hand enclosed around his hard length, fingers just barely meeting to encircle him. "I want you to feel every throbbing inch as you take turns showing just how skilled you really are. "His voice was laced with dark promise, eyes gleaming with an unholy hunger.

A gentle but firm press urged you to begin exploring his member's contours. As you started to stroke him slowly, he angled his hips to drive himself further into your hand. Each smooth, sleek glide ignited fresh sparks of pleasure that coursed through his body, building his anticipation and arousal. "You're incredibly good at this," Phainon purred, leaning to nibble along your shoulder. "Almost as if you were designed to serve and pleasure me." The thought seemed to stir him even more, his cock throbbing harder against your palm. "Go on, witch...let's see what else you can do."

You grumbled softly as you stroked his length faster, pressing your thumb against the tip of his cock. Phainon groaned softly, as he tugged on the leash that was around your neck harder.

A sudden, sharp tug on the leash made you gasp, your eyes widening as Phainon's fingers dug just a little deeper into your throat.

Despite the hint of choking, the sensation elicited no alarm from him. Your breath caught in your lungs, your pulse quickening at the unfamiliar sting.Now, with your attention momentarily diverted, Phainon seized the opportunity to slip that first finger inside you, curling it upwards to make contact with a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

He knew well its effects, and he reveled in the knowledge that the sensation would only heighten your pleasure, even as you struggled just a little against the leash's restraints. "Yes," Phainon purred into your ear, the finger inside you still, "like that. Perfect," he praised. His hand loosened from your throat, then closed again to grip the leash, once more tugging the slender chain around your neck to draw your face closer to his erection.

The pleasure building to a fever pitch within him demanded release, and with a guttural growl, Phainon seized control, his hand closing over yours to guide the pace of your strokes. "That's it, witch...just a little more..." With his own fingers intertwined with yours, he set a relentless rhythm, each thrust of his hips meeting your touch perfectly, until finally, with a burst of ecstatic cry, he reached his peak.

Arch of his back, hips jerking, and spurt after spurt of hot, velvet essence pulsing out to coat that expert hand still wrapped around him—every sensation reached a crescendo before slowly subsiding, Phainon spent but sated in the aftermath of his climax.

"Excellent," he sighed, finally releasing your hand. He turned his head to languidly lick his lips, tasting your essence on them. "You learn quickly when faced with...motivation." With a gentle pat on your cheek, he slipped out from beneath you, and rising in stages, finally stood, his spent cock now flaccid against his thigh. However, the gleam in his eye betrayed his ongoing, insatiable appetite for more from you.

You felt something hard between your legs making you gasp. From his leisurely stroll crossing the room back to the bed, Phainon paused to let your gaze devour every muscle and sinew on full display. A sly, knowing smile curled his kissable lips even as his rigid length began to harden once more, a traitorous cock seemingly possessed by a will of its own.

Giving in to instinct, he shifted back closer to you, hands sliding down to palm his renewed erection as he stood between open legs, fully on display. "It seems I'm not thoroughly sated," Phainon murmured, his voice a deep, seductive rumble.

He leaned down, allowing his hot breath to fan over your skin as he whispered against your ear, "The devil in me isn't quite done with you yet, witch...and I doubt you'll mind."With a slow, deliberate stroke against your inner thigh, he was once again in full control, his body primed for an onslaught of your passion and his unending appetite for more of your exquisite surrender.

As if sensing your anticipation, Phainon began inching closer, eyes locked onto yours as if trying to see into the deepest, darkest recesses of your soul.

The air grew heavier with tension, each ragged breath stirring the musky scent of arousal thicker than the mist—shrouded moors in the gathering dusk. Without warning, he lunged forward, pinning you beneath his weight as he settled on top of you. "Witch," he hissed against your throat, hot, rough lips skimming over your pulse point in a reverential worship, "you'll pay for all the times you tormented me with your lovely form and refused to succumb to a taste."

His hands were everywhere at once—gripping your hips, trailing up your sides, kneading the delicate skin of your tits. Each touch sent shockwaves straight to your core as your nervous system tingled with expectation.

Phainon's rigid cock throbbed urgently against your skin, his arousal unabashedly apparent even through the thin sheet of magic that usually protected those who bore your mark. Yet there was no time for reflection, not with his lips continuing their relentless assault on your skin, and the heady, primal heat that emanated from his form threatening to consume you all.

You moaned softly, one of your hands grabbed his dick. Rubbing the head of his cock on your entrance. "Fuck me. Now."

With an animalistic growl, Phainon positioned himself over you, his impressive length nudging insistently against your inviting warmth. "Patience, witch," he purred, his fingers tangling into your hair to yank your head back, exposing the elegant column of your throat. "I've waited far too long for this sweet release."

He dragged his tongue up the sensitive skin in slow, deliberate drags before latching onto your pulse point, suckling gently as his hips pressed forward, the bulbous head of his cock breaching you incrementally.

The velvety texture glided against your inner walls, the slight stretch almost unbearably pleasurable as inch by inch, he sank deeper into your welcoming heat."Oh, yes," Phainon moaned, breath gusting against your skin, "just like that...so soft...warm...perfect." His tempo quickened, each deliberate thrust driving him in deeper, the force pushing you to meet him, to crave more of that exquisite friction. "You take me so well, witch," he praised, voice thick with desire, "so utterly, wickedly perfect."

The pace of his plunges intensified, each deep stroke sending the head of his cock stroking across that elusive sweet spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. Phainon growled with pleasure, his own arousal growing more insistent as the witch's inner muscles clenched and rippled around his plunging length. "Not stopping," he snarled, "until you can't remember a life without me buried deep within you like this." With renewed hunger, he redoubled his efforts, hips snapping relentlessly as he drove into your welcoming heat.

The sound of flesh meeting flesh mixed with your gasps and moans, a symphony of lustful abandon in the darkness of your private sanctum.

As if sensing he was about to reach the precipice, Phainon clutched your hips hard enough to bruise, every muscle taut, his rhythm chaotic as he fought for control against the tidal wave of pleasure threatening to consume him whole. "Mine," he rasped, breaking the carnal soundtrack just enough to rasp the word against your ear, "you're mine now, witch, utterly and completely...in body and soul."

"Phainon!" you cried out, his cock thrusting into all of the right places.

The last vestiges of Phainon's control shattered, his climax building to an almost unbearable peak. "Take it, witch," he commanded through gritted teeth, his hips moving in powerful, frenzied thrusts as he pursued the heights of ecstasy. "Let me fill you up with my essence," he grunted, the head of his cock battering against that tender spot inside you with every plunge.

"Feel me...claim you...mark you as mine," his voice ragged with lust, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within him.

The moment of surrender loomed close, and with one final, ragged grunt, Phainon buried himself to the hilt inside you, his throbbing cock pulsing and twitching as he exploded in a flurry of intense, raw release.

Waves of hot, potent seed washed over your trembling walls, each contraction milking him of every last drop as your body instinctively rode the aftershocks of his climax together.

Hours later...In the soft, intimate afterglow of their passionate encounter, Phainon stirred, his strong arms encircling you as he lazily drew comforting circles on the small of your back. "Will I meet you again?" You asked him, teasing your eyebrow. You didn’t want him to go. Yet.

Phainon chuckled, the vibrations resonating through his chest and against your ear. "Oh, I'm quite certain we have unfinished business to attend to." He turned his head, kissing the crown of yours softly. "In fact, my dear witch, I've grown quite...fond of you." There was an edge to his voice, a hint of mischief that made him sound almost...playful?

"Unlikely," Phainon said at last with a nonchalant shrug, releasing you from the embrace as he rose from the bed. "Still, do enjoy whatever peace this sanctuary grants you, witch. I promise you won't be kept waiting for long. "With an easy grin and a wink, he sauntered out of the room, leaving behind the lingering scent of his presence and the ghost of pleasure's sweet taste.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[realcube]

dilf december

day fifteen ⭑ kenma kuzome ⭑ want you here tonight

tw : nsfw minors dni, cybersex, f!masterbation, orgasm denial, daddy kink and "kitten"

your boyfriend only exists online.

of course, you've met him in-person before. several times. in fact, you were laying in his cali king-sized bed right now, drowning in the fluffy sheets. but it seems like he always escapes you — jetting off to different countries on last-minute business trips. you weren't even entirely sure where he was right now, all you knew was he was somewhere in asia to accept an reward related to company growth.

currently, for you, it was the middle of the day. though it was a bit dark and gloomy outside, so it felt much later. hence, you were wrapped up snug in kenma's bed, basking in the warmth his covers provided. meanwhile, it was the middle of the night where ever he was; that's the only reason he was able to find time to talk to you over video-call.

his camera was propped up on his desk, so you got a nice view of him as he tapped away on his laptop — unsure whether he was working on important paperwork or just playing video games. his hotel room was dark, and only light source was the computer screen in front of him, harshly illuminating his sharp features.

his narrow eyes darted over the screen, hardly sparing you a glance. still, you'd push your tits up to the camera for your own amusement, admiring your own reflection in the small section in the corner of your mobile phone. you pouted your lips, impressed with how effortless you look, "it's been so lonely here without you. having a big bed is pointless without someone to share it with." you whine, dramatically spreading your arm out across the length of the mattress.

" 'm sorry, babe, but this award is a big deal." his voice is soft yet he speaks in such a dull, uncaring manner. you can detect the sweetness below the surface, however. "i had to fly out and accept it in-person."

"i know.." you sigh, losing yourself and averting your gaze to the side, longingly. it was quite the impressive little charade: you were never really too bothered by kenma visiting other countries and leaving you in his mansion by yourself — the solitude was enjoyable —but you would always pretended to be in utter turmoil over how much you miss him because you know it strokes his ego.

"don't be upset.." he murmured, eyes finally pried off his computer screen, to notice the discontented act you were putting on. "i hate seeing you unhappy."

"hm.." you pout, angling the camera away from your face but still focussed enough so he could see you wiping invisible tears from your eyes.

kenma frowns, and slumps back in his chair, crossing his arms, "c'mon, baby, i'm right here." he tries to reason, between your fake sniffs and quiet sobs, "show daddy those pretty tits, hm?"

wordlessly, you turn your head away from the camera with a dramatic flip of your hair. but, as requested, you lower the camera and pull down the neck of your tank-top in order to free your tits. despite being engulfed by his toasty sheets, your nipples were still stiff upon sudden exposure to the chilly air in the room.

kenma smirks, leaning forward and admiring the view for a moment, before subtly returning his attention to the work on his screen. but not without humming your praises first, "fuck, i've been missing my girls so bad." his chest visibly heaves as he takes laboured breathes, "have you been missing daddy, angel?"

you nod, and as expected, he bluntly rasps in response, "show me."

without further instruction, you kick your sweatpants off, followed by your lacey black panties. sat pretty in the centre of the bed, you spread your legs and place the camera down between them, pointed directly at your sopping pussy, which was leaking arsousal onto his pristine white sheets,

"so wet and filthy.." he mused, only sparing you a glimpse while working. though brief, in that time he was still able to appraise your cunt and it turned him on to see how horny he made you. since he was quite a bit older, he worried that maybe you don't perceive him to be as attractive as he considers you. but seeing with his own eyes how wet he could get you was nice reassurance that he's still hot.

to you, it seemed as though he was clearly more focussed on his work than on you — but that is only because you couldn't see the lewd thoughts clouding his mind. however, it truly turned you on, to be overlooked even while you were fully on display for him. having to claw and beg for male attention was something you weren't used to, so it was certainly a new and erotic experience.

"can i finger myself, daddy?" you whine, hand already roaming down between your thighs and kneading at your plush skin impatiently.

"sure." he muttered, attempting to focus on his computer, "but don't cum. i'm going to do that to you when i get home, okay?"

before he even managed to finish his question, you were already two knuckles-deep into your pussy, moaning wildly and spasming around your own fingers. though you weren't especially fast or dexterous, any stimulation — even amateur — was enough to satisfy your hungry pussy, which yearned for your boyfriend's expert touch, but ultimately would settle for any attention at all.

your walls sucked and gnawed on your own two fingers, making obscenely wet noises as they did so, which not only echoed through the bedroom you were in, but the hotel room kenma was in too. additionally, he got an earful for your loud, staggered moans, which admittedly has his erection aboslutely throbbing in his trousers, but he was experienced in hiding his arousal.

"don't get too carried away, kitten. you're not allowed to cum yet."

[takes1]

i am really in love with the way you write asahi!!!! really looking forward to part 2 of tipsy playfighting with him 😊😊😊

[final part] asahi getting rough with petite!reader

hellooooo thank you so much!!! was thiiiis 🤏close to doing a daddy kink thing, chose not to because that's kind of polarizing. like... pineapples on pizza

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / rough sex / f!rec oral / asahi is the perfect dominant / submissive!reader / aftercare king / fingering / mutual size kink / playfighting kink / rough play kink / power struggle fetish / pseudo-bdsm themes / pet names / mentions of subspace / mid-sex communication / being way too loud / daichi being a great friend / 3.5k words

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. part one here.

'Kind of' made you stall at the top of the stairs.

The second floor, you realized, was all bedrooms. Your legs got heavy, your heart beating like a panicked bird in a cage.

It was ironic. Your ability to handle him downstairs came naturally, but as soon as you had some privacy, it all got intimidating.

Asahi paused after turning the corner. He eased back against the wall with a breath. He glanced to the staircase one more time to make sure nobody had followed you.

"There's nothin' to help with," He laughed, rubbing the side of his stubbly face, "I just- yeah, that was a super lame excuse, actually."

You stood with your hands clasped in front of you, a polite smile, trying to flex all the shivers down. Your crush on him reached its peaks and valleys throughout your years in school together. It reached a happy medium until tonight, starkly reminding you of your old, pushed-down feelings.

He was wicked cute, and that whole performance downstairs was cut too short.

A big breath led to a bigger sigh, "I really wanted to kiss you."

"Me too," You said, with almost no time to let his words settle.

Asahi covered his automatic laugh, and you shared a wholesome moment of mutual, nervous relief.

"Well, uh-," He seethed, eyes up to the ceiling, face much warmer, "If we're being totally honest-,"

The cheers downstairs cut him off. It sounded like Kageyama might have won his match, but neither of you cared.

Asahi suggested, instead, "Should we- go somewhere more private?"

Although you nodded, you weren't sure where he had in mind until he showed you into Daichi's bedroom. You raised your brow, taking in his posters, his books, the layout, feeling a bit guilty that he wasn't in here.

"Oh, I made sure it was cool with him if we- um, talked, in here," He explained.

The supportive body language from those two made infinitely more sense, but you doubted it that ended at 'talking.' You kept your excitement under the surface, for now.

"Right."

He sat on the mattress, a little invested in the feel of the sheets, by the way his hand slid and prodded over the thread count. The ache between your legs was starting to make your whole body cold.

Daichi had those glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, and you didn't want to leave it up to Asahi to fill the silence, so you tried, "How long do y'think he's had those?"

There were at least 20, you counted. When you looked back down, he was relaxed forward, elbows rested on his knees, with his face in his hands, staring straight at you. Screw the ceiling.

He cleared his throat, his eyes flickered dismissively up, "Oh, um- forever, I'm sure."

Asahi was a terrible liar. You were glad he was honest with you in the hall, because he had zero capacity for beating around the bush. His intentions were spoken for, but now they were transparent in his clouded, almost tormented eyes. He made it seem difficult to look at you without touching you.

"You said you wanted to kiss me, right?" The decision to make it easy for him was met with a huge shift in his expression, an ease you saw, earlier, that spread as he ran his hands along your sides.

A gentle brush of his thumb across your cheek, "I did."

Kissing him was simple- it didn't feel rushed, or confusing, at all. He made it all a pleasant and invigorating experience to follow his lead.

His fingers spread through your hair, at the base of your neck. A strong but soft pull brought you into the warm embrace of his body.

He smelled good- mostly like the aged liquor he was nursing most of the night, but a bit woody, with hint of cashmere. Even his scent made you feel taken care of.

"So," You caught your breath for a second, taking in his face as you tucked some hair behind his ear, "Are you sure Daichi's fine with us- talking, all over his bed?"

The way his eyes lit up during his chuckle made you grin, validated and light.

His lips smushed against yours again. He was lifting you up by the waist, setting you on your back with proud effortlessness. You kept your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, getting your fill of his hair while you could.

Before he could completely forget to respond, he hummed a preoccupied, "Yeahh, don't worry about'm."

A hand pinned yours against the mattress.

All he needed was a little reassurance, and he was no longer the sheepish wimp you knew him to be. For a while, when those hot summer seasons coincided with the throws of your crush, it was fun to imagine what he might be like. Now, there was proof, and he didn't disappoint.

The growing pressure he placed on you kept you flat, and slowly limited your ability to move. It was getting familiar.

You tried to move your hand from under his, unlace it, just to touch him, but it proved impossible.

A small chuckle, a little mutter against his temple as he struck crude kisses down the side of your neck: "Can I have my hand back?"

The skin over his knuckles was tough, and his palms were leathery, firm, from all the lifting he did. His strength alone spoke for his dedication, but you felt pleased to know these intimate details about his body.

Your request was met with your other hand being taken hostage. It wasn't fast, but he did it so naturally that you didn't think to move away.

The look he gave you perfectly represented the edge under his words.

"You want your hands back?"

It was a tease-- a way of telling you 'I know you can't move, but I want to see you try.'

You grew warm under the weight of his subtle, playful pushing-- both between your legs and over your palms.

Robbed of your autonomy, but still finding yourself exhilarated by the reality of his size, and his capacity to use it well, the only thing left to do was play along with him. If he had a real thing for this, you wanted to know just how far it went, how worked up it could get you both.

A tiny attempt to pull your arms closer was met with his easy, slow adjustment to cross them instead, above your head. He kissed you through it, all warm and gentle and kind and safe-- but curiously engrossed in your inability to physically overcome him.

It sent a warm chill down your back- flexed, lingering in another ache between your thighs.

His lips were so soft, and sweet, and light, contrasted well against the slight burn of his stubble.

"Mm-," Asahi sighed, a soft peck to your cheek so he could collect himself, "You're givin' up already?"

The warm spill of his words across your face, plus the thrill of his little challenge, had you squirming, all knotted up and itching for him to give you more than just kisses.

"You--," You tensed at his slow, messy sucking along your jaw, "You-mm! Know I can't move..."

Maybe he was taking pity on you- maybe it was your whiny admission fueling a more licentious desire, inspiring him to let you go so he could start stripping you. You delighted in the chance it gave you to watch his reactions.

Soon, you were fully nude- and he was still fully clothed, with no foreseeable urgency to even the imbalance out.

Instead, he let a hand overlap your waist, eyes still busy scouring over you, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Dunno," You mumbled, playing with his fingers as you shot a look to his fly, "Maybe you should check."

Your coquettish quip earned a hasty, rough, but amused kiss. You writhed against his weight again, this time with a justifiable anticipation at the sound of him pulling his cock out.

It was hot as it fell against your skin. A welcome feeling of closeness you couldn't get from much else, just being skin to skin with somebody else. It made you feel a bit like melted butter.

He pushed himself up to take his shirt off, all the while examining his length, pushing it down so that he could measure it in relation to your small torso.

"We'll have to, um..." You trailed, a shaky exhale at his burly, tanned physique, "Be.."

The word 'careful' fell apart on your tongue. Now he was measuring his fingers, next to his cock. One hand remained idle wrapped around the bulk of your thigh.

It was indeed fascinating how some body types probably shouldn't try to come together, like you were. Seemed like an evolutionary flaw.

Especially because the look in his eyes was nothing short of carnivorous. It was occasionally batted back by bouts of concern for the logistics of it all.

"I've got a few ideas," He smiled, real handsome, real sweet, down at you.

Curious, you watched all your favorite muscles of his work and relax again as he backed up off of the mattress, standing at the edge of the bed.

In a second, you had been pulled closer, then adjusted in front of him- it left you breathless at the simple ease of it all. You fixed your hair, a glossy and fixated admiration in your gaze up to him.

Awed, you told him in a shaky giggle, "I really like that..."

Asahi leaned over you; a timid and flattered sigh prickling up your skin, "Yeah?"

His rough hands pinched at your hips as he kissed a messy trail down your tummy.

Whispered, just as his knees hit the carpet, "I like it, too."

It was impossible to not get excited. He always stuck you as a guy with more patience than most.

Patient was a good word to describe the way he ate you out-- he may have liked to toss you around, but it wasn't out of carelessness, or negligence. It was an exploration of boundaries, a bit of power play, and this was played right into the dynamic. His performance wasn't perfect, or void of little, silly hiccups, but it was endearing and fun to discover together.

After he got you warmed up, he began slowly, one by one, pushing his fingers into you.

"How's that feel?"

It was a curious, but flirty question.

He already knew how much you were enjoying yourself, how you were trying to keep yourself quiet under your hand, struggling to not roll your hips into his hand. He just wanted to hear you.

A raspy sigh, a distracted nod, "So g-ood--,"

"Takin' me soo well," He grinned, sucking another messy kiss to you, "Y'want another?"

It wasn't exactly audible, but he was watching that sweet, desperate little expression on your face enough to know you did.

You could feel his smile spread- making your thighs flinch, your body curl at the intensity of getting stretched even further.

"You're so cute."

A mumbly admission, buzzing just right onto you. You were so full of him, reeling in how thick three of his fingers were, and dangerously close once he concentrated on your clit.

Soon you were gripping harder, twitching, then squeezing him--, "H-ah-!"

You started begging when nonverbal queues didn't get through.

"Asahi- asahi, please-ah," You huffed, starting to feel your climax rushing in, threatening to take hold of you, "I'm s-o close-!"

You thought he would stop, for favor of dragging this out longer, but he didn't slow down, nor did he let off of you. The only change was his grip tightening, gripping into your skin. A twitch of your thigh, trying to push on him, was met with a powerful pull to keep it far away, to the side and keep you opened up.

The pressure it brought only added to your rapture- he was actively getting off to watching, hearing, feeling you beg for a break. He loved it.

"Mmn-!" Pulling on his hair did you no favors, other than encouraging that slow, constant swirl of his big tongue around your swollen clit.

In the end, the harshness in your brow, in your clawing fingers, your shaky thighs, all softened under his steady hold. He felt so good taking you apart, then bringing you all back together.

Another messy kiss, so sweet- but so mean, shoved you over the steep edge.

He could feel you tighten, pulse around his fingers and filled you to the knuckle; a tipsy, crooked smile barely visible under his working tongue.

It took so long to come out of the throws of your orgasm that he was already back on top, filling the space above you. You quickly locked your legs around him, hands guiding his face up for a kiss.

His knack for multitasking never stopped. You were given so many gentle, attentive kisses as he put you in the center of the bed, where there was finally room for the both of you.

He wanted you on your elbows and knees. Numb, and tingly, and pliable, you let him adjust you the way he wanted; you kept your debaucherous smile to yourself.

You needed every second of that foreplay to take him- he was the biggest you had ever been with. Thankfully, he also happened to be the sweetest.

"Ooh my god," Your trembling was quelled by the weight of his body.

His groan was low, stuttery, at your tight pussy clenching hard all around him.

He caught his breath, a pretty moan in the back of his throat, "Shit."

His praises were loosely strung together, punctuated in little kisses to the back of your head as he placed his elbows on the mattress, at your sides. If he had been watching, he probably wouldn't have lasted very long.

It was getting rough, quickly, but you found his kind attention more than enough to keep you relaxed.

"Mm-!" You muffled a cry, fisting the sheets while he chuckled at how cute all your little sounds were, hungry for more.

In one fluid motion, he had your arms pinned; one was tucked under you, the other was extended far out in front of you. The responsive gasp was more of your body, reacting on its own, but it was an invigorating thing to consider. He was such a timid guy, so every dirty thing he said or did still took you by surprise.

It was just like how you finished your match earlier, with one big difference.

"Mmnh-aAh! Augh-ah-Mm!"

Your surprised, whiny sounds spilled free against the sheets. His cock filled every bit of you- it felt so good your breath was getting shorter, harder to catch.

You couldn't see it, but he drank that messiness up, a furrowed concentration in his brow to keep giving it to you as hard as you needed.

"You like that?" His voice was right in your neck again, buzzed.

It melted your resistance away- you couldn't even squirm, couldn't tell him yes. You were so full, so close already, that when he stalled deep and cruel, to let you think, your euphoria was barely interrupted. You cried, tearless, drooling a little on Daichi's sheets.

"You wanna talk to me, sweetie?"

The kindness in his voice right now should've been illegal. You breath was getting shaky, your vision long since useless.

"T-ell me-mm, how it feels," He muttered, still egging you on, a kiss to the tip of your ear.

His voice fell away from you, your heart pounding in your ears- you were just swimming in delectation. His warmth, his sure delivery of careful pleasure, his gravelly, well-meaning taunts. It was starting to take you far away, for the first time.

You noticed, but didn't react to his retracting hands, nor the readjustment of his weight off of you.

He was deeply troubled that you hadn't responded to him.

If Asahi had been any more experienced or confident, he would've known the clear signs of subspace-- but considering his experience ended at some casual sex, and the absence of conversation, and not understanding of either of your limits, he thought he fucked up, bad.

You were just different. That made him nervous.

Concern laced his voice quick, a sobering sound.

"Hey?" There were a couple taps to your cheek, and when you got your focus back, he was bending to try to get a good look at your face.

You gave a weak smile, "Mm?"

"You okay?"

A big stretch, an otherwise silly invitation for him to put his hands back on top of yours, "Mmmmhm..."

The way you sat back a little, pushing yourself gently onto his cock, made him take a second. A quick moment to suck in a restrained breath. Then a reserved, relieved chuckle.

"Are you- sure?" Was his last attempt. Now he was noticing the shakiness from your legs, your irregular breathing.

He put a tiny peck to your temple, fingers carefully running over your side.

You gave a close-mouthed whine and winced away at the ticklish sensation, "God-- Just fuck me please,"

When he was watching where to put his hands, he noticed your wiggly fingers, and grinned- happy to take you up on the offer, again.

He met your light pushing with stronger, steady strokes that kept you gasping- whiny, with pleasure.

Your endurance was absolute garbage, when it came to his unconventional way of treating you. Neither of you were expecting it to click so well- not as just-friends, for years, with on-and-off separate partners and countless, ill-timed crushes on each other.

It was amusing to think of how different this would make your 'friendship' now. How could you tell the team you were dating, after they watched what was essentially half of your foreplay downstairs?

This orgasm washed over you in shorter, smaller waves than the first- but it took so long to fully crest that it felt a thousand years longer.

You weren't particularly loud, this time, but now that he was paying so much attention to you, he spoke you through it with unparalleled timing.

"Good, fuck- that's good," He sighed, huffy, in your ear.

His hand quickly clasped over your mouth before you could make a sound.

Though you felt so perfect, the little scare you gave him warded off any chance he had at cumming, too. It'd have to wait for some other time. The satisfaction from getting you to this point was more than enough payoff for him.

"Good girl."

You had never felt so disconnected from your own body before. It was like you felt your climax about two rooms down the hall- and all it left you with was some invisible, heavy blanket all across your limbs.

For all that was worth, it was pretty cool.

His quiet shushing, all in your ear, was the evidence you needed that you hadn't been entirely present. You weren't sure when he started and when he stopped.

"You're okay- you're okay," He cooed, thumb gently brushing your warm cheek.

He held you incredibly still, listening, watching, for you, before pulling out.

You felt like a heavy bag of sand.

In fact, after he had shifted slowly off you and leaned closer, the way you slumped down was akin to one. Maybe more of a bag of concrete mix, instead.

It was staggering to believe your sweet, silly, nervous Asahi took it out of you, like that.

"You okay?" He was ultra-gentle, now, sliding featherlight touches over your back.

It was just enough to keep you awake.

"(Y/n)?"

You didn't realize you needed to respond. A slow, laborious sigh. You opened your eyes and were surprised to see him, once again, leaning over you to watch your face.

"Yeah..."

It didn't convince him- he looked like he was going to call an ambulance.

"I'm- tired," You went to push yourself up.

The intense quivering in your arms stopped you. Having to push back against him for so long was exhausting, and now you were completely spent. You wondered if it had anything to do with the little fight earlier, too.

He shook his head when he noticed you try to move on your own again, "Nono, I got you."

For the millionth time tonight, his ability to pick you up, from whatever position he found himself in, left you in a delighted daze. He set you so that you at least had a pillow under your head.

"You need some water? Let me go get some for you real quick."

You did feel pretty dried up. Like a dead, frail flower.

A tiny nod, and he was rushing to put on enough clothes, zipping out the door in search of water. You fell asleep in the short time he was gone, too sleepy to pull the covers over you or to roll to your side.

"Mmh..."

It had only been a minute or so.

But you felt a thousand years old, getting woken up from an ancient slumber, when a soft throw blanket was covering you- a big, gentle hand over top of it, rubbing your shoulder to rouse you.

Asahi settled to your side, watched closely as you drank, and pressed more kisses to the side of your head. He reached over you to set the bottle on the bedside table.

"Thank you," You leaned into him, then decided to give him a little edge of the blanket, too, and rested your head on his chest, "I'm okay."

"Good."

He was warm. You squeezed an arm over him.

"How are we gonna tell everyone?" You mumbled, against his tummy.

"I-... don't think we need to."

Confused at what he meant by that, you stopped trying to burrow into him, and propped up a little to look him in the face.

"Uh-," He tilted his head from side to side, a little warmth on his tan features, "We weren't...exactly...quiet."

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