#every time I watch it I'm just like 'oh shit' all over again

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

House Party | Drarry

feat. Draco Malfoy x roommate!reader x Harry Potter

summary: all your friends come over for dinner party at your shared flat. little do they know, you've been fucking your roommates in secret for weeks. when one of them makes a move on you, your boys decide to remind you who you belong to.

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, spit roasting, mfm, praise kink, switch!Harry, dom!draco, drinking, smoking, fluff, guyliner, Draco's a slut

an: I just passed 2,000 followers!! I love you all so much and I'm so grateful for the community I've found here. and what better way to celebrate than with our two favorite boys??

more drarry!roommate au | masterlist | requests open

Crossed legged on your vanity stool, you set down your blush and accessed your reflection. Too pink? Not enough?

“Looks gorgeous, baby.” A voice interrupted your pondering, low and sweetened with affection—Harry.

“It's not too much?��� You asked, turning to look at him. He was leaned against the doorway, a pink wine cooler in his hand, already dressed for the party starting in over an hour. A white t-shirt, undone flannel, and light wash jeans, black hair messy and a little overgrown.

He had no business looking so effortlessly hot all the time.

“Definitely not too much.” He pushed off the door jam and crossed the room to you, setting the drink on the vanity for you. “Your makeup always looks perfect,” he said, tilting your chin up to get a closer look, his fingers cold from the bottle. “I like the, uh—the pink stuff.” He tapped the apple of your cheek gently with his pointer finger.

“Blusher,” you supplied. “And you only think that because you don't know anything about makeup,” you argued, despite the smile tugging at your lips.

“I know that you’ve looked beautiful every second of every day that I've known you, and that has to count for something—”

You swatted his broad chest, rolling your eyes and turning back to your makeup. “You're so full of it,” you laughed.

Grinning, he flopped onto your freshly made mattress, an arm folded behind his head, bulging bicep on full display. “You're about to be full of it—”

“Harry!” You scolded, tossing a brush at him.

He caught it without looking, spinning it around his fingers with a cheeky smirk. “What can I say? You bring it out in me.”

Another eye roll. You take a swig of your drink and grab your eyeliner, bracing your elbows on the table. You can feel Harry watching with abject horror when you paint your waterline. He gasped dramatically when you make a quick flick, resulting in a crooked, lightly smudged wing.

“Shit. Harry!” You huffed.

“I didn't do anything!” He laughed. “You're the one about to stab your eye out—”

“I am not! You're distracting me!—”

Something mischievous glinted in his green eyes. “Oh, you think that's distracting?” Harry hooked his foot under your stool, jerking you back towards the bed.

“Hey!”

“What are you children going on about?” Draco appeared in the doorway, half-dressed in trousers and a sleeveless undershirt.

“Harry made me mess up my eyeliner,” you scowled, turning back to the mirror. You attempted the wing again, only for it to skip and pull a little too long.

“He did?” Draco tsked, casting Harry an authoritative glare as he strode towards you, his equine legs taking him across the room in a few unhurried strides.

“I did not!” Harry argued. “I'm just sitting here, minding my own business—”

“Saints sake!” You cursed, pouting at yet another failed wing attempt.

“Do you need help, darling?” Draco asked, gently taking the eyeliner from your fingers.

“You can do eyeliner?” You asked, brows lifting.

He smirked, long fingers reaching out to grasp your jaw and tilt your head back. “Why so surprised?”

“Because you don't wear eyeliner?”

“My father taught me when I was kid,” he clarified. “It's something he does for my mom all time. Close your eyes, love.”

You were speechless, shocked that Lucius Malfoy not only willingly did his wife's makeup for her, but cared enough to teach Draco how to do it too. Something fluttery bloomed in your chest; Draco was doing it for you. Even Harry had fallen silent, watching with rapt attention.

This is how things were between the three of you—from silly friends one moment, to almost saccharine domestic sweetness another, then near-debilitating lust. Sexual tension so taught, you feared it would throttle you.

It was confusing, exhilarating, and deeply complicated. But it was worth it to have even a small piece of them.

Your closed your eyes, breath hitching when his grip tightened a fraction on your jaw, holding you steady.

“Breathe,” he instructed, his voice coming from much closer now, tinged with spearmint, and you loosed a shaky exhale. “Good girl. Now hold still for me.”

Your heartrate accelerated, thrumming eagerly under your skin. It was staggering how quickly he could send you reeling.

So light it almost tickled, Draco swiped a smooth arch above your upper lashes, flicking just a bit at the edges. With his thumb nail, he sharpened it to a point. An expert maneuver that had your belly somersaulting. He repeated the motions on the other eye, his hand delicate on your face so as not to disturb your other makeup.

“Open your eyes at take a look,” he murmured, and you obeyed, blinking up at him. Merlin, he's gorgeous. With his regal bone structure and those bewitching blue eyes. He smiled at you, catching your lingering stare, and leaned down to peck your lips. “Look at yourself, love, not me.”

You turned, eyes immediately snagging on yourself, and the sultry, flawless eyeliner he'd bestowed up on you.

“How the hell are you so good at that?” You asked, leaning in to get a closer look.

Harry got up and leaned over you, making an appreciate oooh. “Damn, Malfoy. If Auror-ing fails, you've got a back up career as a makeup artist,” he said, smiling over the blond.

Draco chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear while he admired his hand work. “Happy to help.”

“Your turn!” You whirled around and tackled Draco onto your bed, eyeliner lofted high.

He caught your wrist, grip tight enough to immobilize your arm, but not enough to hurt. He tsked, shaking his head at you. “Gonna have to be quicker than that, pet,” he chided, amusement glittering in his eyes.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, spreading your knees to lower yourself fully onto his lap. “Please?” You fluttered your lashes, tilting your hips just slightly to press against the growing ridge in his pants. He swallowed hard, eyes flitting down to where your bodies touched.

Harry snickered. “You're not playing fair, lovely,” he hummed, plucking the eyeliner from your fingers.

“But he would look so hot,” you argued, and Draco scoffed, releasing your wrist and resting his hands on your thighs.

Harry contemplated this, tapping his chin with the eyeliner. “That's a fair point.” And he handed you the eyeliner back.

“I don't get a say in this?” Draco huffed.

“Nope, you can wash it off after if you don't like it,” you chirped, uncapping it with your teeth and leaning down towards him.

“You know, it's unsanitary to share eye makeup—”

“Quiet, unless you want me to poke out your eyeball. Look up for me,” you ordered in your best Draco impression, and Harry laughed again.

Draco rolled his eyes, but did as he was told.

“Good boy,” you purred, and you felt his cock surge beneath you, Adam’s Apple bombing in his throat.

You drew a short line just under his lower lashes, barely more than a dot of product, and smudged it out with your pinky. Just enough to give him a little bit of a shadow.

When you pulled back, his eyes flicked back down to you, blinking away the little bit of water the collected. Your breath hitched in your lungs. His eyes looked almost silver, brighter than you'd ever seen them with that little bit of extra contrast.

“That's not fair,” Harry whined. “How can he get hotter?”

You set the eyeliner down, grinning triumphantly, until Draco bucked you off, flipping your bodies around before you'd even registered you were moving.

“And what do you think?” He asked, voice low and vaguely threatening.

Your brain short-circuited, completely mesmerized by his eyes. “I, uh—”

Draco smirked. “Not so bold now, are we?” He teased, leaning down to place a singular, open-mouthed kiss to your neck before pushing himself up, releasing you from his hold. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to finish getting ready.” He turned, pausing to pass a smoothing hand through Harry's hair before exiting your bedroom.

“It's not fair,” Harry grumbled, scratching his head where Draco just touched.

“You're gorgeous too,” you said, wrapping your arms around his middle. “You want some blusher?”

He barked a laugh, carding his fingers through your hair to tilt your head back to steal a kiss himself. “I’d hate to steal his thunder,” he joked, lowering his voice.

You giggled, pinching his cheek before pressing a kiss to it. “Natural blush, then?”

“Fiiine,” he smiled, pulling you up to standing. “Anything for you.”

You finished getting ready and joined Harry out in the living room, setting up the snacks and ambiance, getting the final details in order before your friends arrived.

You leaned over the counter, adjusting the candles at the center, when a heavy weight pressed against your back. Hands trailing up the fronts of your thighs, sliding under the hem as they pulled you closer.

“Sorry, lovely,” Harry purred, nosing into the back of your neck. “Couldn't resist.”

You could feel why against the fat of your ass, his cock throbbing eagerly under his jeans.

“They'll be here any minute,” you giggled, arching your back to press against him.

He groaned, calloused hands tightening around your fleshy thighs. “We'll cancel.”

“And eat all the snacks ourselves?” A breathy sigh stuttered from your throat when he rocked against you.

“Yeah, yeah—” he rasped, mouthing at the top of your spine. “Will need to refuel for round two—”

“You two are insatiable.” Draco’s accusatory voice cut through your haze like a lance.

Harry didn't relent, straightening. “Can you blame me?” Harry chuckled, his hands smoothing down the curve of your spine, the flare of your hips.

Draco hummed, and you turned your head to look at him. And oh, did he look good. Black fitted t-shirt tucked into his slightly baggy trousers, a patent leather belt cinching in that slutty little waist, silver rings on his fingers and chain around his neck. His eyes practically glowed from the eyeliner, giving him just that little bit of an edge, almost Bowie-like.

You extended a hand out to him, making a grabby motion, and he smirked.

“I have to admit, the eyeliner is growing on me,” he said, gently taking your hand and brushing a kiss along your knuckles. “But still, we're going to have to work on your manners.” He rotated your arm, bending your elbow to press your hand against your lower back. Harry caught your wrist, pining it down and pressing you harder against the cold granite.

“Seems well behaved to me,” Harry praised, his free hand trailing higher between your legs. “Isn't that right, baby?”

You nodded, thighs trembling as he inched higher, higher—

Knock knock!

Harry jumped back from you and Draco's head snapped up, scowling like someone personally offended him.

You straightened, smoothing your dress and taking a swig of your drink, willing the throbbing between your legs to subside.

“Sorry, love,” Harry said, pecking your cheek before rushing to open the door.

Draco shook his head and stalked over to the bar, uncapping the fire whisky and filling his glass.

“Harry, you will not believe what happened at work today.” Hermione charged in, jumping headfirst into a story about her idiotic supervisor.

Ron trailed in behind her, laden with takeout bags and a twelve pack that Harry helped him unload.

Hermione only paused her story to throw her arms around you, greeting you with one of those bearish hugs she was so good at it. Ron waved from across the island with a shy smile.

“Merlin sakes, Grainger. Do you ever stop talking?” Draco droned, leaning against the island beside you, a teasing smirk on his face.

“Unlike you, I actually have interesting things to say,” she bit back, pulling him down for a hug that he pretended to hate.

The boys ventured out to the fire escape, taking Draco's immaculate pre rolls with them, leaving you and Hermione cozied up on the couch. But it wasn't long before Theo, Blaise, and Pansy arrived.

“Eccola lì!” Theo cried, handing you a gorgeous bouquet of roses and wrapping you up in a big hug. “I’ve missed you, carina,” he cooed, an incorrigible flirt as always.

“Hi, Theo,” you giggled, slipping away to hug the other two before tracking down a vase.

“What the fuck, Nott!” Draco shouted, throwing up the window, a plume of smoke pouring in. “Where are my flowers?”

“Sod off!” Theo shouted back. “Grainger, darling, if I’d known you'd be here, I’d have brought you the most gorgeous—”

“Watch it, Theodore,” Ron chuckled, his eyes already bloodshot, his smile melty. “Get your own bird, yeah?”

“Lo farò,” he purred, winking at you.

“Ignore him,” Pansy laughed, helping you fill the vase with water. “He got rejected this morning at the café, so he's feeling sensitive.”

“Oi!” He yelled over his shoulder as he climbed outside.

Blaise rolled his eyes and peeled away from Pansy’s hip, helping himself to the whiskey and sinking into the couch beside Hermione, launching into questions about her work. Pansy joined the boys on the porch, bringing out a tray of chips to uproarious applause.

Draco climbed back inside after her, swallowing the rest of his whiskey, and joined you in the kitchen, taking the roses from your hands.

“Thorns?” He asked, checking the stems. “I'll take care of it, go get a drink,” he murmured, fingers lingering on your lower back, hidden by the island, before he turned away.

“Thanks, D,” you said, squeezing his shoulder as you slipped past him and out of the kitchen. You grabbed another wine cooler and headed out to the fire escape, earning a trillion of applause yourself.

Harry was perched on the steps, Ron on his left, while Pansy and Theo leaned against the railings. You turned towards Harry, but Theo caught you first, slinging an arm over your shoulder and tugging you into his side.

“Now the parties started,” Theo joked, offering the half-smoked blunt between his fingers.

You couldn't help but glance at Harry, who was watching you from the corner of his eye while chatting about classes that week with Ron.

If you were honest, you wanted a hit from Harry’s joint, preferably directly from his mouth, but you couldn't exactly refuse Theo and go to Harry without letting the cat out of the bag.

But would that be so terrible? You trusted your friends to not leak the news, and hiding what the three of you were was proving harder than you'd anticipated.

Sure, you weren’t a couple, but it was easy to forget what the arrangement actual was when it was just the three of you in the flat, free to express your affection however and whenever you wanted.

Going back to being friends, even if it was just temporary, was leaving your heart a little bruised.

“I'm okay, Theo. Thanks, though,” you said, offering as sweet a smile as you could muster, and Harry visibly relaxed in your periphery.

“Tranquilla,” Theo said, taking a hit himself and relinquishing his hold on you.

As casually as you could, you sidestepped to sit on the steps beneath Harry, his shins at your back, and started chatting with Pansy about her and Blaise’s upcoming nuptials.

A few minutes later, something heavy and warm dropped on your shoulders, wafting a familiar, amber-scented cologne over you. Harry's flannel.

You curled your fingers around the collar, wrapping it tighter around you, and felt like you could breathe for the first time since everyone arrived.

He offered you his blunt, holding it carefully between his fingers so you could hold onto the flannel. The acrid burn filled your lungs, cast a haze over your mind, and you exhaled, letting the smoke carry your racing thoughts to the stars.

"Better stop looking so damn kissable before I do something stupid," he muttered against your ear, a shiver rolling down your spine. Before you could respond, he leaned back against the stairs, slipping back into conversation with Ron like nothing happened.

A few hours passed, traveling back and forth from the fire escape to the living room, but as the evening wore on, it was too cold to sit outside. So everyone crammed into the living room, sprawled out on the couches and cushions tossed onto the floor.

You were stretched out on the floor between Draco and Theo, the latter seeming more interested in you than usual. He'd barely left your side all night, jumping up every time your drink was empty, or you eyeballed a snack for a few extra seconds.

They were reminiscing on their Hogwarts days, swapping stories and laughing. You were a year below them, and had only really known them from afar, so you just listened, and laughed when everyone else did.

“What'd you think of us back then, carina?” Theo asked, bumping his knee against yours.

Draco and Harry perked up a bit.

“I mean…” you trailed off, glancing around the group as heat crawled up your neck. “He’s Harry Potter. We were all a little starstruck.”

Harry flushed, and everyone but Draco laughed.

“And Hermione, I would write down your class schedule to try and copy it so I could be as smart as you—clearly, a failure,” you added, and Hermione blew you a kiss.

“Theo and Blaise, you guys stole my Charms coursework once, so…”

Theo balked, and Blaise snickered.

“I would never do such a thing,” Theo argued, clutching his gold chain like it was a string on pearls.

Immediately, everyone launched into different stories where Theo had done that and worse.

“Alright, alright! Stronzo’s,” he muttered, pouting.

“And Draco,” you said, finally turning towards the sulking blond. Were you really about to admit this out loud? “I had an absolutely debilitating crush on you.”

“Whaaaat?!” Everyone cried, and Draco's scowl lifted to a smirk, something warm blooming in his glacial eyes.

Harry rolled his eyes, slumping back against the couch, but Draco drew your attention back with an arm snaking around your waist.

“Did you?” He cooed, tugging you into his side. “How adorable.”

You shoved him away, giggling, though he didn't let you go far, socked feet still touching. “I was young, and had questionable taste!”

Everyone howled with laughter, and Draco chuckled, though his eyes promised you'd regret those words. And you couldn't wait.

They dove back into conversation, and you slipped away to check your makeup and calm your racing heart.

A soft knock startled you from your vanity, and you turned, expecting Harry or Draco, but were surprised to find Theo leaning against the door jam.

“Didn't mean to scare you, amore,” he said, eyes sweeping over you, openly appreciative.

“Oh, uh—it’s okay. What's up, Theo?” You asked, setting down your powder brush.

“I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me this week?” He asked, and your stomach dropped. “I think we'd have a lot of fun,” he added, sensing your hesitation.

“Oh, Theo. I—I’m not really in a ‘dating’ place right now,” you said, fidgeting a bit. “But, I appreciate the offer.”

Theo smiled, though it wasn't exactly friendly. “Still have a crush on Malfoy, hm?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I don't need a reason, Theo,” you bit, crossing your arms over your chest.

He held up his hands. “I know, I know. That's not what I was trying to imply. Mi dispiace. I had a feeling you'd say no, but figured I'd try my luck anyways. Your reasons are your own.”

You nodded stiffly, still a bit perturbed by the interaction.

“But, if you do still have a crush on Malfoy—”

“What’s that, Nott?” Draco suddenly appeared over Theo's shoulder, expression dark as a burgeoning storm.

Theo glanced at him, then back to you, still wearing the mischievous smirk. Apparently oblivious to the trap he'd stepped in. “Buona fortuna, carina,” he said, lifted like a farewell, and stepped back into the hall, leaving Malfoy fuming by your door.

“Draco—”

“He asked you out?” Draco asked, leveling you with those piercing eyes.

“And I turned him down,” you retorted, irritation flaring at the possessive way he was acting.

He was the one that suggested this arrangement, wasn't he? He made his bed. You weren't his. Not officially.

Something in your tone broke through the fog of war, and his expression softened.

“Can't say I blame the poor sod,” he said after a moment, eyes drifting down your body. “But I can say that I don't feel all that bad for him.”

You shook your head, walking towards the door to head back to the party. “Try not to look so smug,” you teased, pecking his cheek as you passed by him.

But his arm shot out, hooking you around the middle and flipping you around to press your back against the doorway, his body looming over yours.

“How could I not be?” He murmured, dragging his nose along your temple, the heat of him wrapping around you like a blanket. You could look nowhere but him, completely engulfed in his aura. “I've got such a pretty little thing wrapped around my finger.”

You rolled your eyes, but made no move to escape, the party with all your friends just down the hall completely forgotten. You only wished it was Harry you were pressed up against instead of the wall. Sandwiched between them was your favorite place to be.

His lips trailed down your neck, the feather light contact sparking along your skin like a live wire, and you gasped, arching into him.

“Is it too early to send everyone home?” You whined, raking your fingers through his hair. There was something deeply satisfying about being the one to ruin his always immaculate appearance.

“Just say the word and you'll never see any of them again,” he promised, earning a giggle from you.

“That seems excessive,” you teased.

“I disagree entirely—”

“I'm sorry to be a cock-block, but our guests grow suspicious.” Harry's voice filled the empty hall, and you felt Draco sigh against your neck before stepping back.

“I don't think you're sorry at all,” Draco chastised, throwing Harry a sardonic grin.

Harry shrugged, smirking back. “C’mon, lovely. They're trying to argue that the Demiguise is uglier than Grindylow.”

You gasped. “What?” and raced back out into the living room.

An hour later, you lead Pansy and Blaise to the door, waving goodbye to your final guests and hopping you didn't seem to eager to have them leave.

When you returned to the living room, you found Draco already picking up empty bottles and cans, while Harry was sprawled out on the floor amid the aftermath of the party, leaning back against the couch.

You thought about going to help Draco, but Harry looked far too cozy to pass up.

Harry grinned when you approached, crooked and honey-sweet, and it made your heart skip a beat. “Hi, pretty,” he said, opening his arms to you.

You sank to the ground and laid against his chest, one leg slung over his. “Have fun?” you asked, pecking his cheek. “Seemed to get a little jealous earlier.”

He shrugged. “M’fine,” he muttered, his tone shifting at the mention of Theo’s advances.

You didn’t buy it. Lightly, you dragged your fingertips down his chest, feeling his muscles twitch and bounce under your touch, and leaned in. “Are you lying to me?” you asked, breath fanning across his cheek.

“No, no—I, uh, I’m fine,” he stammered, breath hitching when you leaned in to kiss along the flush crawling up his neck. “Never been better,” he added, a little breathless.

You smiled, pulling at his earlobe with your teeth, before kitten licking the shell. He was trembling a little, his hand on your waist growing heavier, fingers curling around the bunched fabric of your dress.

“So, you don’t need me to show you how much I adore you?” You asked, pulling back a bit.

“No—yes, I—fuck, please don't stop—” He cupped your face, reeling you in for a messy, indulgent kiss. Lips slick with spit, tongue heavy with his lingering high and sweetened by booze, prying apart teeth to get to the softness of you. “Show me, please?” he mumbled against your mouth, breathing labored under the weight of his desire.

How could you refuse such a sweet request?

You shifted down, kissing along the valley of his sternum towards his navel, his skin deliciously warm through his thin shirt. Once settled between his thighs, you quickly undid his belt and fly, freeing him from the confines of his jeans. His cock was already throbbing, flushed with arousal and leaking pearls of precum. So sensitive, he hissed through his teeth when the cold air of the room kissed his fevered skin.

“You need me this badly, darling?” you cooed, blowing air on the rosy head to tease him further.

His chin bobbed, his entire body rigid with tension. “Please, baby, please touch me,” he whimpered.

Taking pity on him, you wrapped your lips around the head, flicking over his slit with your tongue. His whole body shuddered, a broken little groan slipping through is teeth. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, the hot, heavy slide of his silken skin on your tongue making your thighs clench, honey leaking through your underwear.

“F-fuck,” he moaned, covering his face with his hands. “Feels so good—you’re so good.” His thighs flexed with the effort of not bucking into your mouth, desperate to keep still so you didn’t stop.

You hummed in appreciation, taking him as deep as you could manage, tongue swiping along the root of him. Drool was collecting at his base, stringy as you lifted up and down, making a mess of his boxers and yourself.

“Look at you,” Draco cooed, startling you when you felt fingers glide through your hair. “Such a fucking mess.” He collected your hair into a ponytail, starting to lift and lower you on Harry’s length.

“Draco, f-fuck,” Harry moaned.

Draco chuckled, guiding Harry’s hand to hold your hair and releasing you. “You can do it, Harry. She won’t break,” he teased, and you felt Harry’s hand tighten, adding a little more force to your own movements, pushing you a little further each time.

Tears collected at the corners of your eyes, Harry’s thick length making your jaw ache, and the need between your legs bordering on painful.

Then, you felt Draco’s hands slide under your hipbones, lifting you up to your knees in a quick motion and making you slide further down on Harry’s cock, gagging on him.

“Sh, sh, there’s a good girl,” Draco soothed, pushing your dress up over your hips, and rolling down your sodden panties. His fingers ghosted over your cunt, applying the lightest pressure, and you keened, the sound muffled by Harry’s length. “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll only stop when you do,” he challenged, circling the pool of moisture at your entrance before dipping a finger inside your heat.

You moaned again, redoubling your efforts on Harry to encourage Draco's fingers, rocking back against him as you bobbed up and down Harry's length. Harry was a mess beneath, gasping and whimpering, a sheen of sweat making his shirt stick to his skin, his dark hair cling to his forehead. Even his poor glasses were fogging up.

“Merlin sakes, baby—” Harry grunted when you swallowed around him, taking him deeper than before.

Draco rewarded you with a curl of his fingers, prodding that ruinous spot that had your whole body tingling, eyes rolling back in your head. “You take that cock so well, love. Such a perfect little cocksucker, aren't you?”

You nodded, pleasure unspooling in your belly and making your limbs grow heavy, wanting to dissolve onto the floor and let them ravaged you. Take what's theirs.

“Look so pretty,” Harry cooed, his free hand cupping your jaw, stroking away a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“Tell us how pretty you feel,” Draco instructed, his fingers withdrawing from your heat.

You pulled off of Harry, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I feel so pretty. Thank you for making me feel so pretty,” you babble, reaching back to grab Draco and squeezing Harry's thigh.

Both men grinned, tutting proudly, and your reward prodded against your entrance, much thicker than a finger.

Harry guided you back down to his cock. “Remember, lovely. Don't stop unless you want him to.”

You nodded, lapping at the mess you'd made around his base. Draco swirled his cockhead through your folds, lubricating himself, mimicking the movement of your tongue.

Carefully, you took Harry into your mouth, slowly sinking down his length while Draco pushed into you, just as careful. Stretched perfectly, deliriously full. Pleasure dripped from between your legs, flooding your mind and body. You reached for them again, needing an anchor in the storm, and they both reached back for you, Harry hands over your on his chest, and Draco's fingers twined with yours on your shoulder.

“All ours, hm?” Draco gruffed, rocking his hips into you, his iron length dragging against your gummy walls. “Our mouth, our cunt—” he snapped his hips forward, sending you down on Harry's cock and making you gag. “If only Theo could see you now…”

You shook your head as best you could. “Omphly yours,” you mumbled, tongue squished against your teeth by Harry's girth. Harry keened at the feeling, hips stuttering up, the tendons in his neck pulled taught as you felt him start to swell—so fucking close.

“That's right,” Draco purred, stopping his punishing strokes to grind into you, the squelch of your pussy unforgiving, undeniable. “You're both mine.”

You and Harry nodded automatically, letting Draco's pace pull you up and down Harry's length, all of you rocking together like a castaways on a lifeboat, clinging to one another so you weren't pitched into the churning sea.

“F-fuck, ah—I’m so close,” Harry whimpered, hands tightening as he started to tremble, body burning like a furnace beneath you.

“Not yet, Potter,” Draco grunted, his hand sliding from your hip around to your belly, long fingers finding your clit and the sticky mess you'd made between your legs. “Not until she comes.”

It was like Draco struck a match, your whole body lighting up as he worked you with expert precision, knowing your body even better than you did. You tried your best to keep pace sucking Harry, but your mind was starting to fog, limbs going stupid and gelatinous as every nerve pulled taught in your stomach.

Harry whined, head falling back against the couch cushions. “Oh saints—I can't—”

“She’s almost there—you can. C’mon, angel. Come for us—He's been so good, he deserves to come, doesn't he?” Draco was starting to ramble, a tell-tale sign that he was getting close too, his cock thickening, pressing harder against your cervix with every thrust.

“Please, please, please,” Harry pleaded, and you were done for.

Your orgasm crested, the tension severing in your gut and sending you reeling, quivering so hard Draco had to wrap his arm under your hips to keep you upright.

The boys were dragged into oblivion with you, their cries combining into a single roar as they pumped you full of release, painting your insides white as they fucked you and one another through it.

“That's it—so fucking good for us. Did so well,” Draco said, stroking your spine and Harry’s outstretched leg, praising you both. He eased you off of Harry, laying you gently on the carpet and using his wand to clean you both up.

You were completely spent, wrung out like a washcloth. Boneless, brainless, and practically giddy with endorphins.

“You're amazing.” Harry offered you a sip of water, holding your hand while to you recovered. “Smiley girl,” he teased, leaning down to peck the grin tugging at your lips.

“Feel good, darling?” Draco asked, massaging your legs, his own smile breaking through. Viscerally pleased that he had you so thoroughly wrecked.

Harry was trying to be coy, but you could see the possessive gleam in his eye, the greedy way he took stock of every red mark and bead of sweat on your body. “Looking a little starstruck, love," Harry teased.

"Still think you were naive and had questionable taste?” Draco asked.

You shook your head, too breathless to speak, your throat raw and tender in the best way.

Poor Theo didn't stand a chance.

© agreeeeeeeeeee 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[running-in-the-dark]

I keep watching that damn interview (the one from this morning) again and again

I'm very surprised that it seems to be having such an effect on me, but it is.

[kutepik]

Eyes on you

(nsfw 18+) Caleb has hidden cameras all over his house, and you've decided to put on a show for him.

2k words. posted also on ao3!

stalking, obsessive behavior, voyeurism, fem!reader.

Cameras. There were hidden cameras all over his house. There wasn't a bookcase or a mirror that didn’t have a little dot on it, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye. You only knew they were there by accident: when you took the elevator to Caleb's apartment, you bumped into an excited boy wearing a cap and uniform of a security company. 

"Are you Mr. Caleb's girlfriend? What a pleasure, I only saw you in pictures!" The boy waved, taking you by surprise. 

"No... I'm just a friend." You said a little confused, and the energetic boy explained himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I saw so many photos of Mr. Caleb with you the day I went to install those cameras that I thought you were dating. He also said he was installing the cameras to protect someone he liked." Cameras? What cameras? You thought, but before you could say anything, the elevator door opened and the boy jumped out. "Let me know if any of them stop working, I've installed so many I've almost lost count! Bye!" And so he disappeared down the hall.

Now you were in the living room, standing there in the middle, feeling the weight of your body and your movements, self-conscious about yourself and alert to the fact that you were being watched. Was he watching you? Now? Right now? That’s fucked up. Jail worthy. Caleb was obsessed with you and if your recent reunion hadn't already proved it, the dozen or hundreds of hidden cameras scattered around that room were proof that Caleb was sick. 

But we know the saying: When you point one finger, there are three fingers pointing back to you. More sickening than knowing that you were being watched, from every angle and probably in every room, was the fact that you were aroused. The spot between your legs throbbed, excited by the situation, by the fact that Caleb had probably seen you naked, had seen you sleeping, had seen you showering... It was so fucking wrong that, despite being against everything he had done in Skyhaven right after the reunion, you still delighted in remembering the possessiveness and obsession that melted at the words of your friend, oh, dear friend. 

In addition to the burning sensation between your legs, there was this tingle in your stomach at the thought of a man - not just any man, we're talking about Caleb - being so concerned, so devoted to you that he would kill and die for your happiness. In fact, a man who returned from the ashes and survived for you and you alone. He was no longer your sweet childhood friend... But that wasn't a bad thing. Now he became a man who had eyes (many, it seems, all over the house), only and exclusively for you. Caleb was crazy about you, and, oh shit, you loved it, which made you as crazy as he was. 

So you had two options: the first was to confront Caleb about why the fuck he had installed so many cameras in the apartment if the only person who spent time there apart from him was you; the second was to pretend you didn't know anything and carry on with your life as if everything was normal. 

You always chose the second option when it came to Caleb, ever since you were a teenager and in college. Whether it was sneaking around his room and finding your panties secretly hidden in the back of his closet, or listening to him masturbate while calling your name when he thought he was alone, you always pretended everything was normal. But ever since, and even more so now that you've found each other again, there was nothing normal about it, and no reason to carry on in the same way. After all, if he had changed, there was no reason for you to remain the same or pretend you didn't know anything. 

Then there was a third and new option: pretending not to know anything, but taking advantage of the situation to play with Caleb. Basically, make him taste his own medicine. If he wanted to see you, well, he would.

Pretending to be normal, you sat down on the sofa and took off your coat, throwing it on the coffee table. You took out your cell phone and called his number. 

"Is my favorite guest home yet?" Caleb answered in his usual animated voice. 

"Yeah. I'm bored. Still working? Is it break time?" You remembered that around this time he was most active on social media, so it should be the best time to put into action what you had in mind.

"Ah…You've always been very clever. Yes, I'm on break. I'll be home in two hours and we can do whatever you want. Don't get bored, you can turn on the TV or play a game on the console I have." Caleb was always like that, attentive to you, always wanting to please you. He wasn't much of a gamer, but because you liked games, he had bought a console with the excuse that he was getting interested in games. But now you weren't going to play with the console. You were going to play with something else. 

"Oh, no..." You put the phone on speaker and placed it on the arm of the sofa. You lifted your shirt and brought your fingers up to your bra, massaging your nipples. "I want to relax, not play." You said, holding your right breast while spreading your legs, slipping anxious fingers into your pants, brushing the fingertips against the wet panties. 

The call went silent. Bingo. He was indeed watching you, like the pervert he was. 

"Caleb?" You asked innocently, keeping your voice steady as you started moving your hand in circles, making it obvious what you were doing inside those tight pants. 

"A-ah, yes. Relax..." His breathing was heavy on the other end of the line, and suddenly you heard the sound of a zipper being opened. You had to stop yourself from moaning just then. He was starting to touch himself while watching you. "Why don't you, uh, take a shower in my bathroom?" His voice was a little choked. He was probably pumping himself slowly, staring at your live image through the screen in his office. Your pussy throbbed and suddenly your pants were too tight and too hot. You stopped stroking your own breasts and took both hands to the waistband of your trousers, sliding them down your legs. Then you took off your shirt, leaving only your panties and bra on. You positioned yourself again, this time with your legs spread wider and your heels resting on the table in front of the sofa. Your fingers returned to the soaked fabric of your panties, touching the sensitive clit through the wet cloth. 

"Yeah, I'll have a shower, I'm just finishing something up." With your middle finger, you moved your panties to one side to touch yourself directly. You bit your lip, holding back a moan, and squeezed your breast with your other hand. 

"Fuck..." he swore. 

"All right?" You replied innocently, holding back your unsteady voice as you carried on stimulating your clit at a steady pace. You wanted him to think you didn't know about the cameras, so you had to stay as normal as possible on the phone.

"Yup... I- I just hit my finger," he lied, slurring his words. 

"Caleb-" You said, catching your breath. "I miss you,"

"I miss you too." He sounded almost breathless. "I can come over now."

"No, you can't. There's work. Or is there something urgent you need to do here?" You quickly pulled down your panties, leaving them between your thighs. Then, out of the blue, you heard the unmistakable sound of a camera zooming in. He must have been eating you with his eyes, and now he wanted a closer look. You opened your folds, circling your fingers around the soaked entrance, like a pervert. You slowly moved the fingers up to your clit, stimulating yourself obscenely again. The other end of the line was completely silent, only a few low sounds and grunts were audible. "Caleb, is there something urgent you need to do here?" 

"Uh-" He stammered, and you raised your hips a little, grinding against your hand. "Fuck, fuck," he said. He didn't bother with sentences anymore. 

"What’s up with you? I'm feeling lonely and bored here. Can't you entertain me?" You teased innocently, but your legs were already shaking. 

"I can entertain you. Ah-" For a second, you heard the wet, rhythmic sound of his thrusts against his own hand. Oh my. Caleb had his pants down, sat somewhere in the FAA, and was touching himself like a teenager while he watched you. And you fucking loved it. "I can entertain you... I can be so, so good for you, if you let me." His voice was raspy and breathless. If you weren't so close to your orgasm, you might've asked him if everything was alright and put him in a tough spot again, but you couldn't even think about that. You were too caught up in your own pleasure. One hand was on your nipple under your bra, the other was all over your clit, and you arched your back on the sofa.

"I- I know you know how to entertain me. You're so good to me, always." You gasped, no longer caring that he was probably listening to the sound of your quick fingers against the wet flesh of your vagina. 

Suddenly, you heard a muffled cry on the other end of the line and several "Fuck, fuck, fuck" being whispered like a mantra at a low volume, as if he had his hand against his own mouth. He was coming. And that was all it took for the tingling at the base of your belly to explode and flow out of your pussy in an obscene and intense orgasm. 

You had just squirted all over the living room table and carpet, and had probably wet the sofa as well. The two of you were silent, only the audible gasp of your breaths as you caught your breath. 

"Caleb? Are you still there? It seems the connection was cut." You lied, still pretending you didn't know anything. He coughed and the sound of things being adjusted or stirred could be heard in the background. 

"Yeah, yeah… Probably disconnected or something." 

You got up and stood next to the sofa, looking at the mess you had left there. 

"Caleb I think I spilled...something on your sofa and carpet. Is there any cleaning cloth so I can clean it up?" You looked around. 

"NO!" Caleb almost shouted from the other side. "I mean, it's no problem, pipsqueak. You don't have to clean up. You must be tired from all this, right?" He cleared his throat. "From the trip, and everything. Just rest more, like I said, you can use my bathroom and take a shower if you want."

"Hm, where's that cleaning freak from before? Who are you and what have you done with my Caleb?" You heard a laugh on the other end of the line. 

"That's why. I'll take care of it. Please" The last word sounded as if he was begging. "I'll be home soon, and I'll be able to...entertain you, as you wish. We can, huh, relax together, too."

You laughed and picked up your cell phone, walking to the bathroom while dropping your bra in the hallway, knowing that he was watching here too. You picked up your wet panties and placed them on the bathroom door handle. In an instant, you could see a small dot hidden next to a painting, pointing directly at where you were standing. You stared directly at it, smiled and winked. 

"I'm waiting for you then, Caleb."

[killerplink]

DEVOTION

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Plot: A fight with Jason gets heated—sharp words, stubborn tempers, neither of you backing down. But when the tension snaps, it turns into something else entirely—something raw, desperate, and messy.

Words: 10k

CW: established relationship, 18+, smut, argument, angry/make-up sex, oral sex (m+f receiving), praise, teasing, rough sex, squirting, creampie, aftercare, domestic fluff, a bit of angst

The apartment door slams behind you both, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet space. Your heels clack against the hardwood as you stalk toward the bedroom, too pissed to even look at him right now. Jason follows, his heavy boots thudding after you, that cocky swagger in every step even though you're very clearly fuming.

"Are you really gonna be mad all night?" he asks, tone half lazy, half exasperated.

You whip around so fast your hair flies over your shoulder, finger already pointed at his chest. "Yes! Jason, I swear to God, you're fucking impossible!"

His brows shoot up, that infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth. "What'd I do now, doll?"

"What'd you do? Are you serious?" You step closer, eyes flashing, and jab a finger into his chest. "You almost started a fight at the restaurant! Over nothing! Just—someone bumped into me, and suddenly you're ready to crack skulls like you're still some street kid with nothing to lose, except you have everything to lose, Jason! I have everything to lose!"

That softens his smirk, just a little. But it doesn't disappear, not entirely. "Baby, I had it under control."

"No, you didn't!" Your voice breaks on the words, frustration and fear tangled up too tight in your chest. "You never have it under control when you get like that. You stop thinking. It's like you don't even care what happens to you."

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You're bein' dramatic."

"Oh, fuck you." You turn away, arms crossed tight, nails digging into your own skin like you can hold yourself together if you just squeeze hard enough. "I'm not being dramatic, Jay. I'm scared. Every time you act like your life doesn't matter, it scares the shit out of me because your life does matter. To me."

That knocks some of the wind out of his cocky sails, but true to form, Jason Todd never backs down that easily. "I can handle myself, baby. I've been in worse fights before you even knew me."

"And maybe that's the problem!" You spin around again, hands flung wide. "You're so used to throwing yourself into danger like you've got a death wish, you don't even think about the people who love you, who have to watch you do it. Who have to fucking wait and hope you come home in one piece."

His jaw clenches, that sharp edge of defensiveness flashing in his eyes. "I came home tonight, didn't I?"

"Barely! If Dick hadn't dragged you out of there—"

"—I would've walked out just fine on my own," he cuts in, voice hard, like he's this close to losing his temper too.

You both stand there, breathing hard, anger seeping through every pore. Your heart is hammering against your ribs, anger and fear and love all tangled into a knot you can't untie. And goddamn him, even now, with his blood still running hot from almost throwing down, with that cocky little glint still in his eye—he looks good. Messy hair, jaw clenched tight, that black shirt stretched over his broad chest, his hands flexing like he still has adrenaline to burn.

You want to shake him. You want to kiss him. You want to scream until your throat hurts.

Jason exhales, slow and heavy, like he's trying to ease some of that heat out of his chest before you both say something you can't take back.

"Baby," he says, quieter now, "I'm fine."

Your throat closes up. "For now."

He takes a step closer, hands sliding to your waist, fingers curling into your dress. "I'm not goin' anywhere, pretty girl."

You shake your head, eyes stinging. "You can't promise that."

Jason sighs as he leans down, forehead tipping against yours. "What do you want me to say, huh? That I'll never lose my temper again? That I'll play nice and walk away every time some asshole gets in my face? That's not who I am."

"I know," you whisper. "But it's who I wish you could be. Just for me."

That hits somewhere deep, somewhere tender he doesn't let many people see. But instead of softening, Jason leans into the heat instead because that's how he knows to handle fear, with fire.

"C'mere," he mutters, dragging you into him, arms wrapping tight around your waist. "You wanna fight with me? Do it right here, baby. Get it out of your system."

You shove at his chest, and he catches your wrist, twisting you into him like a dance, his breath warm against your ear.

"Or," he says low, voice all gravel and heat, "you can find a better way to work out all that attitude."

"Fuck off," you snap, but it's weaker now, your anger unraveling into something messier, hotter.

He chuckles, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "C'mon, pretty girl. You're pissed, I'm pissed, and you're standin' here looking like that." His hands slide down, grabbing your ass hard through your dress. "We both know exactly how this night's gonna end."

Your breath catches, nails curling into his chest again, not pushing this time, just holding on.

"Still mad at me, baby?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He grins against your mouth, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. "Let me make it up to you."

Your hands land flat on his chest, shoving him back, catching him off guard enough that he stumbles two steps out of the bedroom. And before he can say a damn word, you slam the door right in his stupid, handsome, reckless face. Not locked, just shut, because locking it feels too final, too mean, and you're pissed, but not that pissed.

Jason stares at the door for half a second, then his forehead drops against it with a low thud, and he knocks his head against it once, twice, just hard enough to feel it.

"Fuck."

He didn't mean to ruin the night. He never means to ruin shit when it comes to you. But the moment that asshole's hand brushed against your ass—innocent or not—it flipped a fucking switch in him. And maybe that's fucked up, maybe he's got a million unresolved issues tied to losing everyone he's ever given a shit about, but you?

You're his. His girl, his future, his everything, and seeing someone else's hand anywhere near you sends him spiraling into that ugly, possessive part of himself that only you've ever managed to soften.

And yeah, maybe the guy didn't mean it, maybe it was just a crowded restaurant and accidents happen, but Jason's not the kind of man who plays it cool. Not when it comes to you. Not when he loves you so much it hurts sometimes, sitting right there under his ribs like a bruise he can't stop poking.

He presses his palms to the door, wishing he could just rewind the whole night—go back to you looking so pretty at the restaurant, all smiles and soft touches, letting him steal kisses between courses. You'd been happy. And then he fucked it up. Again.

Inside the bedroom, you sit on the edge of the bed, fingers curled into the sheets, trying to hold back the sting in your eyes. You won't cry—you won't—but your throat's tight, and your chest aches, and the night feels like it's unraveling right between your fingers.

Tonight was supposed to be fun. It's Tim's fucking birthday, for God's sake. The restaurant had been beautiful, the food actually good for once, the atmosphere soft and warm with all your friends laughing and talking and teasing each other.

And then some random guy brushed past you on his way to the bathroom, bumping your hip, and Jason went feral. You love that he's protective—God, you do—but Gotham is full of crazy assholes, and you don't want him starting a fight with someone who might pull out a gun and blow his brains out over a misunderstanding.

The thought makes your stomach churn, fear sliding ice-cold down your spine, and you have to shake it off before it eats you alive. You stand, fingers reaching behind you to unzip your dress, and it slides off your body in a whisper of fabric, pooling at your feet. And that's when you catch your reflection in the mirror, and yeah, no wonder he couldn't keep his hands off you all night.

The lingerie underneath? It's not the kind you wear every day. This is the good shit—black lace and thin straps, sheer panels teasing the curves of your tits, a matching thong barely covering anything, thin enough to show just how wet you already are.

Because for all the shit he's pulling tonight, Jason's still your hot-ass, broad-shouldered, cocky as hell boyfriend, and your pussy? She does not hold grudges.

You're still mad. You still wanna shake him until his teeth rattle. But you also want him to fuck you so hard you forget why you were even mad to begin with.

You sigh, tug open the bedroom door, and march straight into the living room, chin high, steps confident even though your knees are still a little weak from all that adrenaline. And, yeah, maybe from how fucking good he made you cum this morning.

Jason's slouched on the couch, head tipped back, hands dragging down his face, and when he hears your footsteps, he looks up, and freezes.

His eyes rake over you, slow and dark, tongue darting out to wet his lips like his mouth's gone dry. "Jesus Christ."

You cross your arms under your tits, pushing them up just a little higher. "What? Cat got your tongue, big guy?"

His gaze flicks from your face to your tits to the sheer lace stretched over your hips, and the way the thin strip of fabric between your legs is already dark with how wet you are.

"You're tryin' to fuckin' kill me," he mutters, half to himself, half to you.

You cock a hip, all attitude, even though your pulse is hammering. "Thought you liked a challenge."

Jason pushes up from the couch, moving slow, shoulders broad and tense, every line of him saying he's holding himself back—barely. "You're still mad at me."

"Furious," you agree.

"And you're standin' there looking like that."

You glance down at yourself, trailing a finger over the top of your bra, down the center of your stomach. "Yeah. What are you gonna do about it?"

He's on you in two steps, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other grabbing a handful of your ass, yanking you flush against him. "Gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, baby."

"Promises, promises."

He kisses you hard enough to steal your breath, hands already roaming, already tugging at the straps of your bra, already ready to tear you apart and put you back together again, but you're faster. You grab two handfuls of his shirt, spinning him around and shoving him back onto the couch. He goes down without a fight, grinning like the cocky bastard he is, because you both know you can't actually budge him unless he lets you.

But fuck, does it turn him on when you try.

Jason sprawls into the cushions, legs spread, hands braced on his thighs like he's daring you to climb on top of him, but instead, you drop to your knees between his legs. His whole body tenses, chest rising slower, breath catching because you—all pissed off, all attitude, all tits spilling out of that black lace bra—are kneeling right there, looking up at him like you're about to ruin his fucking life.

And for once, Jason Todd has nothing to say.

You reach for his belt, slow and deliberate, dragging the leather free of the loops with a sharp tug, and you swear you see his fingers twitch. He's already getting hard, already pressing against the front of his jeans, already so fucking easy for you.

The buckle clinks as you undo it, popping the button next, tugging the zipper down with a sound that seems louder than it should be. And then you pull his jeans and boxers down just far enough to free his dick, and—fuck.

He's so fucking big, already thick and flushed, veins standing out along his length, and a bead of precum clings to the slit, catching the low light. Your pussy throbs on sight alone, clenching around nothing, still sore from the last time he was inside you.

Jason's hand lifts, fingers reaching for the back of your head—because of course he wants to grab your hair, guide your mouth, fuck your throat—but you slap his hand away, sharp and quick.

"No touching."

He freezes like you've just short-circuited every thought in his head. "What?"

"No. Touching." You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, giving him one slow, punishing stroke, twisting your wrist just the way he likes. "You wanna act reckless? You wanna scare the shit outta me? You wanna start fights over shit that doesn't matter? Then you can sit there with your hands to yourself while I handle this."

Jason's jaw clenches, shoulders tight, every muscle in his thighs twitching, but he obeys. Barely. His hands grip the edge of the couch so tight his knuckles go white.

You lean in, licking up the underside of his cock in one slow, wet drag, ending with a kiss to the tip that leaves your lips shiny with precum. "You're such a fucking idiot, you know that?"

"Yeah, baby," he rasps, voice already rougher. "I know."

You pump him slow, fingers squeezing just right, thumb swiping through the slick at his tip before you slide down again.

"What if you got yourself shot tonight, huh? What the fuck am I supposed to do if you get yourself killed because you can't stand someone breathing in my direction?"

"Fuck." His head tips back, throat flexing, cock leaking even more into your palm.

"Who's gonna love me the way you do? Who's gonna fuck me if you're dead, Jason?" You squeeze his dick just to see his hips jerk. "Who else knows how to ruin me like you do?"

"Baby—"

"No. Don't talk." You flick your tongue against the tip, barely a taste, before you sit back on your heels, jerking him slow and mean. "You don't get to talk, you reckless, possessive, stupid fucking man."

His abs tighten, hands still white-knuckling the couch, and his cock twitches in your grip, a fresh bead of precum sliding down the side. "You love that I'm possessive."

You glare up at him, lips curling. "I do. But not when it puts you in danger, asshole." You kiss the tip again, softer this time. "Not when it makes me scared I'm gonna lose you."

Jason's breath stutters, and you see it—that crack in his tough-guy armor, the one only you ever get to see. But you don't let him soften.

Not yet. Instead, you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock again, pumping him faster, twisting your wrist just right, watching his thighs tense and his hips fight not to thrust up into your mouth.

"Keep your hands there," you murmur, voice all sweet and mean at once. "And maybe—maybe—I'll let you cum down my throat."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

His head falls back, a bead of sweat sliding down his neck, and you know you've got him right where you want him.

Jason yanks his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, not even bothering with unbuttoning it, because if you're gonna make him suffer, the least he can do is give you something to look at. And fuck, do you look.

Your hands rest on his thick thighs for a second, gaze dragging over every inked inch of him—the dark ink across his chest, the jagged lines along his ribs, the script down his arms that you've traced with your tongue a hundred times before. He's so fucking hot, all muscle and attitude, sprawled out, dick rock hard in your grip, glistening with spit and precum.

"Enjoyin' the view?"

His voice is pure gravel, but there's a waver in it, like he's already hanging by a thread.

"Shut up."

You lean in, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock again, tracing that thick vein with the tip of your tongue until you reach the head, circling it slowly before you take him into your mouth, lips stretching, jaw aching already, but you don't stop. You never stop.

He's too fucking big, he always is, but you try anyway, sinking lower, feeling the weight of him press against your tongue, the blunt head nudging the back of your throat.

"Greedy little thing," Jason mutters, hands twitching, and you see it—the instinct, the need to grab your hair and fuck your throat until you're crying.

But you slap his thigh sharply. "I said no touching."

"Baby—"

"No."

You sink back down, hollowing your cheeks, sucking him deep until your throat spasms around the fat tip, gagging. Tears prick your eyes, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, but you fucking love it. Love the way his thighs tense, love the way his dick jumps on your tongue, love how fucking desperate he looks.

Jason's chest heaves, fingers curling into fists at his sides. "You're evil."

You hum around him, the vibration making him swear under his breath, and you pull off with a filthy pop, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his cock before you drag your tongue up the side again.

"Yeah? And what's that make you for loving it?"

"Completely fucked."

You grin, all teeth, and take him back into your mouth, bobbing your head faster, sucking him down until you gag again, drool dripping down your chin, slicking his cock even more. Your thighs press together, your pussy throbbing, panties soaked through. You can feel it, the sticky mess between your legs, the ache in your cunt, the way your body needs him, no matter how mad you are.

Jason groans, deep and low, and you glance up at him through wet lashes, seeing the flush on his chest, the tension in his jaw, the muscles jumping in his stomach. He's so fucking close already, you can tell, and every time he tries to lift a hand, you slap it back down, keeping him helpless beneath you, all that strength and power completely useless unless you let him use it.

"Baby, please." His voice cracks, and it's the hottest fucking thing you've ever heard.

You pull off one more time, stroking him fast and messy, your spit-slick hand gliding easily along his length. "Please what?"

"Please lemme touch you."

You shake your head, licking up the underside again, tongue teasing his slit before you suck the head back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks until his hips buck, just once, just enough to choke you again. You swallow hard, tears sliding down your cheeks, and his dick throbs so hard you can feel it on your tongue.

"Be good," you murmur around him, voice muffled and obscene, "and I'll let you cum."

Jason's head falls back, a broken groan ripping from his throat, and you know you've got him. You sink back down, taking him as deep as you can, lips stretched tight around the fat width of his cock, spit and precum slicking your chin as you work him with all the devotion you can muster. What you can't fit—and there's always part of him you can't fit—you stroke with your hand, fingers gliding over the thick base, your palm sticky with drool and his slick.

Your tongue works the head, lapping up every drop of precum he leaks, tasting that salty, addictive tease of what's coming, and you fucking love it. You flick your tongue against his slit, suck gently on the sensitive tip before you sink down again, sucking hard, cheeks hollowed so tight your jaw aches, but you don't fucking care.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Jason groans, his voice wrecked, head tipped back against the couch, muscles tight like he's holding himself together with sheer fucking will. "You're perfect, baby. Mouth so goddamn good—fuck, you always know how to suck me just right."

The praise makes your pussy clench hard, heat flooding your belly, and you double down, bobbing your head faster, working him with both your mouth and hand until your throat burns and your jaw trembles. Every time you pull back, you leave a messy trail of spit and precum glistening along his length, but you dive right back in, tongue swirling around the head before you take him deep again.

"Look at you," Jason breathes, his voice low and rough. "So fuckin' pretty like this. My perfect girl. You love this dick, don't you?"

You hum around him, the vibration making his whole body twitch, and he groans so low it vibrates in your chest. You pull back just enough to gasp, "Love it, Jay. Best fucking dick I've ever had."

"Yeah?" His grin is sharp, dangerous. "Then show me, baby. Show me how much you love it."

Challenge fucking accepted. You take him deep again, swallowing around the head, ignoring the gag reflex that flares up as you press lower, working him into your throat until your nose brushes the skin at the base of his cock. You gag again, spit bubbling past your lips, but you don't stop. You fucking love how heavy he feels on your tongue, how thick and hot and perfect he is, filling your mouth like he was made for it.

Jason's fists clench at his sides, his whole body trembling with restraint. "So good for me, baby," he mutters, voice cracking with it. "So fuckin' good. My pretty, filthy fucking girl. Takin' me so deep—fuck, 'm gonna cum, baby. Gonna fill that perfect mouth."

You moan around him, and that's it—his hips jerk, cock swelling, and then he's cumming, thick ropes of cum spilling across your tongue, hot and salty and so much, it makes you whimper as you swallow, throat working hard to take it all.

He always cums a lot, his balls emptying in pulse after pulse, and you keep sucking, milking him through it, letting every drop slide down your throat until your belly feels warm with it. His cock throbs against your tongue, so sensitive it makes his hips twitch every time your tongue flicks over the head, but you don't stop until you know he's completely spent.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, voice rough and almost shaky. "Gonna kill me one of these days."

You pull back slowly, licking your swollen lips, wiping the mess from your chin with the back of your hand, and grin up at him, all fucked-out satisfaction. Jason pulls you right into his lap, and you gasp, hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself.

His hands slide down to grab your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh, grinding you down against his cock, still hard and slick with your spit, and you moan when you feel the thick length press up against your soaked lace panties.

"Fuck," Jason mutters, dragging you along his cock again, feeling how drenched you are even through the lace. "That pretty pussy misses me already, huh?"

"Jay," you murmur, voice soft, needy, and when you lean in, he catches your mouth in a kiss—hot, messy, all tongue and teeth, licking into you like he's starving for your taste.

He groans low when he tastes himself on your tongue, dirty and possessive, and you whimper into his mouth, hips moving on their own, grinding down against him, chasing friction.

You break the kiss to breathe, forehead resting against his, and your fingers stroke the hair at the nape of his neck as you whisper, "Do you love me?"

Jason's hands flex on your ass, holding you tighter, and his voice is low, earnest when he says, "You know I do, baby. Love you so fuckin' much."

You lick your lips, eyes dark with want. "Then fuck me like you mean it."

His eyes flash—something feral, something wild, and before you can say anything else, he's moving, standing up with you in his arms like you weigh nothing before he lays you down on the couch, his jeans and boxers kicked off in one rough move. He kneels over you, hands already tugging your bra down until your tits spill out, and he doesn't even bother unclasping it before he's on you.

"Love these tits," he mutters between kisses, licking over one nipple, sucking it into his mouth before letting it go with a wet pop. His tongue flicks over the other, sharp and teasing, before he closes his lips around it, sucking hard until you gasp and arch into him. "So fuckin' pretty, baby. Could spend all day suckin' on these."

You tug at his hair, breathless, moaning when he drags his teeth over your nipple, just the right amount of rough. He leaves a trail of messy hickeys down the curve of your tits, marking you like the possessive asshole he is, and you swear your pussy gets even wetter from it.

He kisses down your stomach, hands already hooking into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to get access to you. "Love this body," he murmurs, licking over the waistband before kissing your hipbone. "Love this pussy. Love you, baby."

You whimper, spreading your legs instinctively, and he groans at the sight of your panties clinging to your soaked folds, the lace darkened with how wet you are. His fingers trace along the edge of the fabric, barely touching you, just enough to make your thighs twitch in frustration.

Then his tongue flicks out, teasing you through the fabric, just the lightest drag of warmth over your clit, and you jolt, hips twitching up, chasing more.

Jason hums, amused, as he pulls back, blowing cool air against the damp spot where his tongue just was. "So fuckin' wet for me already," he mutters, voice wrecked, his breath hot against your cunt.

His fingers slide down, pressing against the soaked lace, rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit, just enough to make you ache but not enough to satisfy.

Your hips stutter, desperate for more friction, but he doesn't give it to you. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his scruff scratching at your sensitive skin, and then, another flick of his tongue, this time firmer, tracing over your clit through the thin barrier of lace.

"Jay—" Your fingers tighten in his hair, trying to pull him closer, but he only chuckles, the vibrations making you tremble.

"You love this, don't you?" His voice is thick with hunger, fingers still rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clit. "Love bein' all messy for me, panties soaked, beggin' for my mouth..."

He leans in again, dragging his tongue over you, pressing the fabric against your cunt, making it cling to every swollen, aching inch of you. Then his teeth close around the lace, tugging just enough to make you feel it before letting go.

Your thighs tremble, your body desperate for more, but he just keeps playing with you, running his tongue along the slick fabric, soaking it even more, his fingers pressing right against your entrance, but never giving you what you need.

"Jason—" you whimper, pushing up against his mouth, but he only smirks, pressing another teasing, barely-there kiss over your clit.

"Patience, pretty girl," he murmurs, eyes dark, voice rough.

He finally hooks a finger into the crotch of your panties, pulling them aside to bare you to him, and then his mouth is on you—hot, wet, tongue sliding through your folds before fucking into you, slow and deep, licking you open like he's savoring every drop.

You moan his name, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his big hands grab your thighs and hold you open, spreading you wide like he's got all the time in the world to devour you.

"Keep 'em open, baby," he growls, voice muffled between your thighs. "Wanna see this pussy when I eat you."

He fucks you with his tongue, nose brushing against your clit, and every time you try to roll your hips or squirm away from the intensity, he holds you down and just keeps going, messy and obscene, spit and slick dripping down to the couch beneath you.

Jason groans into your pussy, the sound vibrating against your clit, and he sucks—soft at first, just enough to make you gasp, before he latches on and really sucks, lips wrapped around that sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue flicking against it, over and over, relentless.

"F-Fuck—Jay—" Your voice is all breathy, wrecked, your fingers pulling at his hair, but it only spurs him on.

He hums again, mouth still latched to your clit, and then drags his tongue down, lapping at your folds, hot and messy and so deep you feel it in your gut. He groans like he's starving for you, like he could live off this alone, tongue pushing inside again, fucking you slow and deep before dragging up to swirl around your clit.

And then he does it again. And again. And again.

His hands squeeze at your thighs, holding you open, keeping you spread, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into your trembling skin, soothing even as his mouth drives you insane.

"You taste so fuckin' good, pretty girl," he rasps against your soaked cunt, his lips slick, his chin glistening with your arousal. "Could eat you for hours."

He presses a soft kiss right against your clit before flattening his tongue, licking a long, slow stripe up your pussy, gathering every drop of slick before pushing his tongue back inside you.

You keen, legs twitching, and he groans into you, hands tightening, like he can feel you dripping for him.

"Goddamn, look at you," he mutters, breath hot against your cunt as he pulls back just enough to admire the mess he's making of you. "Drippin' down my fuckin' chin, baby—"

The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on you echo in the room, filthy and desperate, and all you can do is whimper and take it.

When he pulls back just enough to suck your clit into his mouth again your whole body jolts, and he hums in satisfaction, eyes locked on you as your mouth falls open on a gasp.

"C'mon, baby," he murmurs against you, every word vibrating against your skin. "Cum for me. Wanna taste you."

It hits you hard, your back arching, thighs trembling in his grip as you cry out, body clenching tight before it melts into pleasure. You swear you see stars, the intensity making your head spin, and he groans low in his throat as he licks you through it, sucking every drop you give him, cleaning you up with his tongue like a man fucking starving.

He doesn't stop until you're trembling, oversensitive and gasping for breath, your hands tugging weakly at his hair, begging for a break. When he finally pulls back, his mouth and chin are glistening, and he wipes his face with the back of his hand, grinning down at you like the devil himself.

"Goddamn, baby," he mutters. "Tastes even better when you're mad at me."

Jason flips you onto your stomach like you weigh nothing, handling you exactly the way you love—rough enough to remind you how much stronger he is, gentle enough to show he'll never actually hurt you. And you already know what he wants, so you arch your back, pushing up onto your hands and knees, glancing over your shoulder with a bratty little smirk that makes his jaw clench.

His hands slide down your sides, slow, deliberate, before they settle on your hips, fingers digging in just to hear you gasp. Then he grabs the lace of your panties, tugging them down over your ass, baring your soaked cunt and the mess he already made between your thighs.

"Fuck," he mutters, palming your ass, squeezing and spreading you open to get a better look. "Always so fuckin' pretty back here."

The first slap lands sharp, making you jolt forward, your slick thighs trembling. The sting blooms hot across your skin, and you whimper, but it only makes you arch deeper, pushing your hips back toward him.

Jason watches, transfixed, as your pussy clenches around nothing, dripping slick onto his cock when he presses the thick head between your legs. He's still hard, precum leaking from the swollen tip, and you rock your hips, rubbing your soaked folds against him until he curses under his breath.

"Needy little thing," he grits out, guiding his cock to your entrance. "Can't even pretend you're not desperate for me."

He starts pushing in, splitting you open slow, and the stretch knocks the air from your lungs, leaving you trembling under him. "Oh, fuck—"

"Always so fuckin' tight for me," Jason groans, one hand stroking down your stomach, feeling the way your body stretches to take him. His fingers slip lower, over your clit, slick and swollen, and you shiver all over when he rubs slow circles over it. "Goddamn, baby."

You rock back, taking him deeper, moaning as your pussy clenches down hard around him. He curses, leaning over you, chest pressed to your back, and murmurs low in your ear, "You want me to fuck you like I mean it, huh?"

You nod frantically, words catching in your throat, and Jason groans, pulling back just enough to grab your hips, steadying you before sliding in deeper, bottoming out with one slow, brutal thrust.

He gives you a second, like he always does, letting you adjust because he knows he's big, knows he's a lot, and he loves you too much to hurt you.

But you're impatient, your body burning with need, so you glance back over your shoulder, panting, "Thought you said you loved me."

His jaw tightens, a flush spreading down his chest, and he growls, "I do."

"Then fucking prove it," you challenge, and that's it, the last frayed thread of his self-control snaps.

Jason's hips slam into yours, driving his cock so deep you see stars, and you cry out, fingers scrambling for purchase against the cushions. His hands grip your waist, holding you still so all you can do is take it, body jerking with each brutal thrust, wet sounds filling the room every time his cock splits you open.

Your cunt grips him like a vice, soaked and clenching around him, dragging him back in every time he pulls out, and the slick slide is so obscene, so messy, it only makes him fuck you harder. His hips snap against your ass, the slap of skin on skin echoing, and you bury your face in your arms, moaning his name like a prayer.

"Still wanna fucking die, you idiot?" you gasp between moans, glaring at him over your shoulder, and Jason groans, dropping one hand to slap your ass again.

"Shut up," he pants, driving in deep enough to knock the air out of you. "God, baby—you're so fuckin' wet for me."

"Because you're—you're so fucking stupid," you sob, half-scolding, half-moan. "What if—what if you get yourself killed, and who the fuck's gonna fuck me like this?"

"Jesus Christ," Jason groans, the filthy confession sending a sharp pulse of heat straight to his cock, making it throb inside you. "No one, baby, no one else is ever gonna touch this pussy."

He fucks you harder, deeper, grinding into you until you're shaking under him, toes curling, nails clawing at the couch. Every thrust punches little gasps from your throat, and you can't stop talking, can't stop scolding him even as he's fucking you stupid.

"You love me?" you pant, voice high and breathless.

"Love you so much, baby," he groans, leaning over you, lips against your ear. "Love you, love this body, love this perfect fuckin' pussy. All mine, baby. All fuckin' mine."

"Show me," you whisper, voice shaking. "Show me how much."

Jason's hips snap forward, hard enough to drive you into the couch, and you moan his name, cunt squeezing tight around him. "I'll show you, doll," he pants, sweat dripping down his back. "I'll show you exactly how much."

His hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, spreading your ass, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks tomorrow, and you'll love every fucking one of them. Each thrust is brutal, his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, so slick with arousal and his precum that it drips down your thighs, making a mess.

"Look at this greedy fuckin' pussy," he groans, thumbs spreading you open wider just so he can watch. "Suckin' me in like you missed this dick."

"I did," you gasp, fingers clutching at the couch cushions. "But you're still a fucking idiot."

Jason grits his teeth, hips snapping forward hard enough to shove you up the couch, your knees scraping against the fabric. Your slick little cunt grips him tight, soft and warm and soaked inside, milking his cock every time he drags back just to slam back in. Precum leaks from the swollen tip, mixing with your slick, and every thrust pushes it deeper, making you feel so full you can barely breathe.

The couch creaks under both of you, the whole thing rocking with the force of his thrusts, and Jason can't tear his eyes away from the way your ass bounces every time his hips smack into you. Your skin glows, sweat-slick and gorgeous, and he can see the way his dick stretches you open, disappearing into your perfect pussy over and over again.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, almost to himself. "You're perfect. This pussy's fuckin' perfect."

"Damn right it is," you pant, pushing back against him until you're stuffed full all over again. "And if you get yourself killed, who the fuck is supposed to fuck me like this?"

That ticks him off just right this time—his hand shoots out, grabbing the back of your neck, not to hurt, but to hold, to control, and he hauls you upright, your back pressed flush to his broad chest. You gasp, legs shaking, the stretch of his cock inside you deeper, hitting that sweet spot that makes you cry out.

"Who said I was goin' anywhere?" he growls against your ear, hand sliding up from your neck to wrap gently around your throat. "You think I'd leave you, baby? Fuck no."

His other hand finds your tits, fingers tugging at the bra you still hadn't taken off, yanking the cups down completely so your soft skin spills into his hand. He palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, and you moan loud, head tipping back onto his shoulder.

"You love me?" you whisper, breath hitching with every thrust.

"You know I do," he pants, fucking up into you, hips rolling slow but deep, stuffing you so full you swear you can feel him in your throat.

"Then fucking show me," you challenge, rocking your hips down to meet him.

Jason groans, fingers tightening on your throat just a little, enough to make your cunt flutter around him. "I am," he mutters, mouth hot on your neck. "Fuckin' you so good no one else could ever touch you— no one else could make you this wet, this fuckin' messy."

He shoves you back down, face to the cushions, ass in the air, spreading you wide so he can see everything—the way your slick pussy stretches around him, sucking him back in every time he pulls out, shiny with your wetness and his precum.

"Fuckin' shit, baby," he groans, watching his cock slide in and out of your perfect little pussy. "You're fuckin' drippin'."

"Because you're that good, asshole," you snap back, voice muffled by the cushions.

Jason slaps your ass hard enough to make you jolt, cunt squeezing down on him so tight his vision blurs for a second. "Yeah? Then why the fuck you talkin' so much?"

"Because you're a fucking idiot," you sob, back arching when he drives in deep. "You don't—you don't need to start shit every time someone looks at me, Jay. You're the only one who gets to fuck me like this, don't you know that?"

Jason groans, hands tightening on your hips as he slams into you harder, hips snapping, driving you into the couch so deep your knees nearly buckle.

"I know, doll," he pants, voice wrecked. "I know, fuck—I just love you so much, I can't stand anyone else even lookin' at you."

"Then—then fuck me harder," you gasp, tears in your eyes from how good he feels, how perfectly his thick cock fills you up, dragging against every sweet spot inside you. "Fuck me so good I can't even think about anyone else."

Jason yanks you up again, your back flush to his sweat-slick chest, his cock buried so deep you swear you feel him in your fucking lungs. His big hand cups your jaw, turning your face toward him, and he kisses you messy, tongue sliding between your parted lips like he's starving for the taste of you. It's sloppy, wet, both of you panting into each other's mouths, sucking on tongues, biting at lips.

You moan into his mouth when his free hand finds your clit, two fingers rubbing sharp, relentless circles over the sensitive little bud. It's too much, too fast, your cunt already stretched wide and soaked around him, every rub of his fingers making you clench down tighter.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, breath hot against your cheek, hips snapping up into you so hard you bounce. "You're so fuckin' wet—you're drippin' all over my dick."

His fingers don't slow down, and you can't do anything but take it, legs shaking, cunt squeezing around him, your swollen clit throbbing under his ruthless touch. The heat coils low in your belly, sharp and fast, climbing so high so fast it almost scares you.

"Jay—fuck—wait, I—"

Your hand flies down, grabbing at his wrist, trying to ease him off your overstimulated clit, but he's not budging, the muscle in his forearm flexing as he presses down harder.

"No," he growls into your ear, voice wrecked. "You wanted me to fuck you like I mean it? This is what that fuckin' means, baby."

His dick pounds into you mercilessly, every thrust dragging against your sweetest spot, thick and hot and leaking inside you, smearing precum along your fluttering walls. You're soaking him, so slick you can hear the obscene squelch every time he sinks in to the hilt as he rubs your puffy little clit.

Your whole body locks up, spine arching, mouth falling open as you cum so hard it knocks the breath out of you, that sharp edge of pleasure tipping you into freefall. Your pussy clamps down on his cock, tight and trembling, and Jason fucking moans, jaw clenched, hips stuttering as you soak his dick with wave after wave of hot, slick arousal.

But he doesn't stop.

"Gimme more," he pants, fingers ruthless on your clit. "C'mon, baby, you can do it, show me how messy you can get."

"Jason, I—fuck—fuck—"

Your thighs quake, eyes rolling back, and when he starts to slap over your clit lightly, it hits like a live wire—your whole body seizes, cunt pulsing around him, and then it happens.

You fucking squirt, hot and sudden, a slick rush spilling from your cunt, drenching both of you in a messy gush that soaks the couch, his thighs, your thighs—every inch of skin that's pressed together—leaving your pussy glistening, clenching around his dick as your juices drip down to the cushions. It's a mess you didn't even know you could make, and Jason loses it.

You both knew you could squirt when you were drunk off your ass, but this? This was all him. And you're both wrecked with it—you, boneless and trembling, him, harder than fucking steel inside you, completely gone for you.

"Holy fuck, baby," he groans, voice somewhere between awe and pure hunger.

Your whole body shakes, tears spilling down your cheeks from the sheer intensity, overstimulated to the point of pain-tinged pleasure, and Jason kisses you through it, swallowing your sobs and moans right from your tongue.

It's still so messy—hot, wet, open-mouthed, tongues licking into each other's mouths, tasting sweat and spit and you, and he groans deep in his chest like you're the best thing he's ever had.

His cock keeps sliding into your soaked, fluttering cunt, so slick it's almost effortless, but you're still so tight, sucking him in greedily. His fingers finally ease off your clit, stroking instead of circling, soothing instead of torturing, but his kiss stays just as hungry. Desperate like he's trying to memorize your taste, the way you moan into his mouth when you can barely even catch your breath.

"Baby," he murmurs between kisses, breathless and tender and filthy all at once. "You're so fuckin' good for me. Love this pussy—love you."

Jason's lips break from yours, sliding down your jaw, over the curve of your throat, hot breath ghosting over your pulse before his mouth seals against your neck. He sucks hard, tongue flicking over the skin, leaving a bruising, sloppy mark.

And the whole time, his hips keep working, dragging his thick cock in and out of your soaked, swollen cunt, slow but deep, hitting every spot that makes your toes curl.

"Fuck, Jay—" you whimper, head tilting to give him more of your neck, hands clutching at his wrists, his arms, anywhere you can reach to steady yourself.

He hums low in his throat, all smug and wicked, and you can feel him smirk against your skin. "You want my cum, baby?"

You moan loud, nodding so fast it makes him chuckle.

"Of course you do," he murmurs, voice low and gravelly, kissing his way up to your ear. "This needy little pussy loves my cum, huh?"

"Yes," you gasp, writhing against him, trying to push back and take him deeper, to make him give it to you.

But he just teases, slowing his thrusts, dragging every inch out before pushing back in so slowly, letting you feel just how thick and hot he is inside you. "Thought you were mad at me, pretty girl."

"I am," you snap, but it's breathless, your earlier fire softened by the way he's fucking you so deep and slow, pulling every sound he loves right out of your throat.

"Yeah?" he smirks, tongue licking over your racing pulse. "Then why should I cum inside this perfect little pussy if you're still so fuckin' mad?"

"Jason—" you whine, pushing back harder, but his hand holds you steady, thumb pressing into your hip, controlling the pace no matter how desperate you are.

"Gotta convince me, baby," he taunts, voice all low and syrupy-sweet, fingers sliding down to your clit just to flick it, making you jolt and clench down hard on his cock. "Why should I fill you up, huh? Gimme one good reason."

"Because I need it," you gasp, fingers clawing at the couch cushions. "Need you to cum inside me, need to feel it—fuck—please, Jay."

"Need it?" He grins against your neck, biting just hard enough to make you yelp. "Sounds like my girl's not so mad after all."

"I am—"

"No, you're not," he cuts you off, fucking into you a little faster, just to hear the pitch of your voice climb. "You just like actin' tough until you're full of my dick, huh?"

You nod frantically, pride shredded, nothing left but raw, aching need. "Yes—yes—God, yes—please, Jay."

"Please, what?" His cock drags against your sweet spot with every thrust, his fingers circling your clit again, faster this time. "Say it, baby. Tell me exactly what you want."

"Want you to cum inside me," you sob, back arching, thighs trembling. "Want to feel it dripping out—want to be so fucking full of you, Jay, please—"

That does it. His grip tightens as he snaps his hips forward, fucking you deep, no more teasing, just hard, filthy thrusts, skin slapping skin, his cock driving into your slick little cunt until the wet noises echo louder than your breathless moans.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, forehead pressing to your shoulder. "Gonna give it to you— gonna fill this perfect pussy up."

You moan his name like a prayer, clenching down so hard it makes him stutter, and then he's gone, hips jerking, cock throbbing deep inside you as he spills, hot and thick, cum flooding your pussy in pulse after pulse after pulse.

It's so much—the heat of it, the way his dick twitches inside you with every spurt, and fuck, you feel everything. The way his cock pulses, the way his cum paints your insides, so deep, so full, your body reacts before you even realize, pleasure slamming through you again, white-hot and all-consuming.

"Oh—fuck—fuck—"

Your whole body trembles, seizing up as you arch, as your walls clamp down hard around his dick, the overstimulation pushing you over the edge again, even sharper this time.

Jason groans, choked and wrecked, because he feels it—the way your pussy flutters, grips him like a vice, milking him, dragging out his orgasm as another thick pulse of cum spurts deep inside you.

"Shit, pretty girl—fuck—"

His voice is hoarse, breathless, hands locking onto your hips as he bucks up, rutting into you with slow, desperate rolls, like he's trying to fuck his cum deeper.

You're soaking him, your release gushing around his dick, slick dripping down to his balls, making everything filthy as you keen, breath hitching, body trembling. The pleasure is so much you can't stop shaking, can't stop gasping, every little twitch of his cock sending more sparks crackling through your limbs.

Jason groans again, deep and raw, his fingers digging into your skin, keeping you right where he wants you, his cock still buried inside, still throbbing, even as his hips slow, his whole body shuddering against yours.

"Jesus Christ, baby—" He swallows hard, head falling forward against your shoulder, voice thick, half-slurred. "Damn near killed me."

But he doesn't let go. He won't—his arms curl around you, holding you close, keeping you locked against him, cock still nestled deep, even as his cum drips out, thick and hot, making a mess between your thighs.

You both shudder, your pussy milking him for everything, his cock twitching, still so sensitive it makes him groan low in his throat as he grinds against you, lazy and slow. You're so full you leak around him, creamy slick dripping down his balls, sticky and hot, smearing where your thighs press together.

It's messy, obscene, perfect, and he loves every second of it.

He kisses your shoulder, still panting, his hand sliding up your stomach to cup your tits, lazy fingers playing with one nipple. "Still mad, baby?"

"Maybe," you mumble, face buried in the crook of his neck, completely fucked stupid.

Jason's laugh rumbles low in his chest, warm and rough and just so him, his lips pressing to your temple in a lazy, affectionate kiss. "You're a terrible liar, doll."

His cock slips free from your fluttering cunt with a slick, obscene noise, your pussy clenching reflexively at the sudden emptiness, already missing him even with his cum still leaking from your swollen slit. It smears down your inner thighs, dripping onto the couch cushion below, and Jason watches it like a man obsessed, fingers tracing over the slick mess he made of you before finally easing you down against him.

You whine, soft and spent, but you don't fight it when he turns you gently, pulling your smaller body right on top of his, the perfect little puzzle piece to his broad, muscular frame. Your skin feels like it's buzzing, every inch of you overstimulated and tender, but his hands are so gentle.

Big palms soothing up and down your back, warm fingers tracing lazy circles along your spine. His lips find your temple again, softer this time, and the two of you just breathe, hearts still pounding, somehow falling into the same steady rhythm.

You nuzzle into his neck, breath warm against his skin, and for a while, the only sound is both of you catching your breath, bodies molding together.

After a long, quiet moment, Jason's voice breaks the silence—rough, hesitant. "I'm sorry."

You blink up at him, your face blissed-out and sleepy, limbs heavy, but you still reach up, cupping his cheek, thumb brushing gently over the scar there. His hand comes up to cover yours, his palm dwarfing yours as he lifts it to his mouth, kissing your palm, his lips warm and soft.

"I'm sorry too," you murmur, voice soft, but Jason just shakes his head.

"Nah," he says, eyes flicking up to the ceiling like it's easier to talk to that than to you. "It was my fault. I just..." he trails off, breath hitching slightly, and for a rare moment, Jason Todd looks nervous.

You wait, patient and quiet, until he finally sighs, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit. "I never had this kind of love before," he says, voice so low you almost miss it. "Ever."

Your heart aches, and you squeeze his hand back, silently urging him to keep going.

"And yeah, I don't—I don't know how to behave sometimes," he admits, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. "I know it's wrong to be so fuckin' possessive. To assume you're mine just because I want you to be."

"Baby," you whisper, brow furrowing, but he keeps talking, like he has to get it all out before he loses his nerve.

"It's selfish and stupid," he says, frustrated with himself. "But I just... I never felt this way about anyone before. And it's fuckin' terrifyin', but it's also the best goddamn thing that's ever happened to me."

Your chest aches, soft and warm and so full of love for this man who's only ever known how to fight for what he wants, and now he's fighting himself, just to figure out how to love you right.

You tilt his chin until he's looking at you again, your eyes wide and soft and just a little stunned, because yeah, Jason's softer with you, you know that. But this? This vulnerability, this naked honesty, this is rare. This is the part of him no one gets to see.

"What are you talking about, baby?" you whisper, thumb tracing his lower lip. "I'm yours. You don't have to doubt that."

His eyes darken, something vulnerable flickering beneath the heat. "Yeah, but—"

"No 'but'," you cut him off, leaning down to kiss him—soft, sweet, no heat this time, just love. "I am yours, Jay. You don't own me, but I belong to you. And that's my choice."

His arms tighten around you, almost crushing you to his chest, but you don't complain. You just melt into it, letting him hold you like he's afraid you'll slip through his fingers if he lets go.

And yeah, maybe your pussy's still throbbing, and there's cum dripping down your thighs, and you both reek of sweat and sex, but right now? Right now, all that matters is this.

You shift slightly on top of him, just enough to press your lips to his chest—soft, lingering, right over his heart. It's steady beneath your mouth, a quiet, strong beat that reminds you he's here. And you hold onto that, breathing him in as you kiss him again, even softer this time.

Jason's hand slides up your back, fingers weaving into your hair as he cups the back of your head, guiding you up just enough to press a kiss to your forehead. It's so gentle, so sweet, and your chest aches all over again, tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

"I'm sorry I said I want you to change for me," you murmur, voice quiet and a little hoarse. "I didn't mean it like that. I just..." you sigh, fingers tracing idle patterns over his ribs. "I knew what I was getting into when we first met. I knew. And I thought that over time, it would be easier to just... I don't know... get used to the idea that one day you might not come home."

His hand tightens slightly in your hair—not enough to hurt, just enough to let you know he's listening.

"But it's not," you whisper, voice cracking slightly.

"I know," he says softly, his lips finding your temple again.

You exhale, shaky and uneven, and your voice wavers when you say, "I just want you to promise you'll always come back to me. I can't lose you, Jason. You're the only person in my life I've ever loved like this, and I just... I can't—"

The words catch in your throat, and you almost sniffle, but Jason's already there, tilting your chin up until you meet his gaze. And fuck, the way he looks at you—like you're everything, like you hung the goddamn moon—it almost breaks you.

He can't stand seeing you cry. Not like this. Crying because he fucks you stupid? Sure, any day of the week. But crying because you're scared of losing him? That kills him a little.

His thumb strokes along your cheek, brushing away the tears threatening to spill. "I promise, doll," he says, voice low and steady and so fucking sincere it hurts. "I'll always come back to you."

You nod, swallowing hard before you nuzzle back into the crook of his neck, letting his warmth wrap around you like a shield. His arms tighten around you again, holding you like you're his lifeline. And maybe you are.

And yeah, there's still mess between your thighs, and the couch probably needs to be burned after what you just did to it, but none of that matters right now. All that matters is this. Just you and Jason, skin to skin, hearts pounding in sync, holding onto each other like the world outside doesn't exist.

After a quick cleanup—you both do what you can with the poor couch, but honestly, there's only so much scrubbing that'll save it—you end up in the shower together, lazily soaping each other up with that vanilla body wash you love. Jason grumbles about how it's too sweet and not him, but the second you press your slick, warm body against his under the spray, he shuts up real fast.

Wrapped in clean clothes, smelling like dessert, you curl up on the couch, freshly dressed in one of his worn-out t-shirts that hangs off your shoulder and a pair of cotton panties. Jason settles next to you in his sweats, bare-chested, all warm skin and ink as you tangle yourself around him like the needy gremlin you are.

A box of shitty pizza rests between you—a sad, greasy excuse for a meal, but somehow perfect for tonight—and some trash reality show plays in the background, the kind that makes you both question humanity.

Jason glances at you, his arm stretched around your shoulders, fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. "So... we good?"

You roll your eyes, groaning dramatically, before leaning over to chomp a massive bite out of his slice, despite the fact you're already holding your own.

"You little brat," he mutters, shaking his head, but there's no real heat in it. If anything, the way he smiles at you—soft, warm, a little exasperated—makes your chest feel too small for your heart.

You just flash him a smug grin, mouth full of stolen pizza, and lean your head on his shoulder, sighing happily. "We're good, Jay."

And yeah, the couch will never be the same, and the pizza's objectively terrible, and the show's giving you both secondhand embarrassment. But with you curled into him, his arm wrapped around your waist, and your bare leg hooked over his thigh, Jason figures he might just be the luckiest motherfucker in Gotham.

[lhseungs]

— ❛ WHERE THEY CUM ❜

. . . MEMBERS: enhypen hyung line - heeseung, jay, jake, and sunghoon

. . . WARNING / TAGS: smut, 18+, afab!reader, breeding, creampie, oral (m!receiving), creampie, overstimulation, orgasm denial (sorta), handjob, sorta sub!jake and dom!reader (implied), squirting, aftercare. not proofread!

. . . A/N: and another post taken from my old account, though this time i actually wrote it. sorry it took so long. i wrote majority of it and it didn’t save, unfortunately. anyway, enjoy!

✧ HEESEUNG

heeseung has an insane breeding kink. the second you tell him to cum in you, its like a switch goes off, gripping your waist with the most sinful moan escaping his lips. he loves filling you up and watching you take his seed, pushing it back in when he sees it spilling out.

“so fuckin’ tight, baby,” heeseung grunts, head falling back. “gonna cum soon.”

whimpers escape your lips as heeseung pounds into you. the lewd sound of skin slapping skin echoes the bedroom, bed shaking and hitting the wall. “p-please, hee… cum in me”

heeseung's eyes darken at your words. he grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to land on his. “hmm... my pretty baby wants me to fill her up?"

you nod, eyes pleading at you look up at heeseung. like a switch, heeseung pushes your legs against your chest and pounds deeper into you. you moan out, arms scratching heeseungs back as you try to ground yourself to something, the knot in your abdomen tightens.

"m'gonna fill you up so fucking good, baby," heeseung hisses, his thrusts getting sloppier.

your nails dig into heeseungs arm. "'seung... i'm gonna-"

"shit, me too, baby," heeseung's pace doesn't falter as your orgasm washes over you, legs shaking as you let out a loud moan.

with one last thrust, heeseung lets out a sinful moan, cumming right along with you. he fills you up, his white seed painting your insides and your name leaving his lips like a mantra.

heeseung looks down as his cum slowly drips out of your cunt. a fire ignites in him as he thrusts his cum back into you, relishing in the white ring formed at the base of his cock.

“h-hee, it’s too much-“ you cry out, clawing at his arms again as his thrusts increase speed.

“one more round, pretty. i know you could do it.”

✧ JAY

there’s just something about cumming in your mouth that jay is obsessed with. the way you look up at him with your pretty eyes while sucking him off, the way you grab the parts of him your mouth can't reach, and the way you swallow every bit of him gets him seeing stars every time the two of you fuck.

jay's head falls back against the chair as your mouth moves up and down his cock, covering his mouth to muffle the moans leaving his lips.

he risks lifting his head to watch you. you look up at him, eyelashes wet from previous tears, and continue to bob your head. your beautiful, pretty, doll-like eyes looking up at him as you suck his cock had jay bucking his hips.

"you look so pretty, baby," jay whispers, "so fucking beautiful for me."

you hum in response, causing jay to shiver and groan. he curses, grabbing a fistful of your hair. "fuck, doll, do that again."

you oblige, humming on jay's cock causing a moan to escape his lips. jay tightens his grip on your hair, holding your head still as he thrusts into your mouth making you gag.

jay's breathing gets heavier as he mouth-fucks you, moans growing louder as he gets close to his orgasm. "you're gonna take it, right? take it like a good girl and swallow every last drop."

again, you hum in response and jay lets out another loud moan. "oh, f-fuck, y/n-" he bucks his hips one more time as he cums, his warm seed spilling into your mouth as you swallow it all.

jay pull out and watches his cum spill from your lips. he leans closer to you and wipes the cum from your lips with his thumb. "say ‘ah’, baby." you open your mouth as jay inserts his thumb in your mouth. you lick the cum off his finger and he smirks.

"good girl."

✧ JAKE

heaven to jake is cumming on your face. doesn't matter where it lands (and frankly, you dont care either), but just seeing your face full of his cum as he kisses you senseless could get him hard again, and again, and again. he could go multiple rounds as long as he gets to see his cum painted on your cheeks.

jake whimpers as he goes on to round two. your hands are around his cock as he lays against the bedframe, chest heaving.

"you wanted another round," you state as you slowly stroke him, the cum from his previous round dripping from your cheek.

"i-i know."

you smile. slowly, you begin to increase speed, stroking his red cock that's just aching to cum again. you slide your thumb over the slit and jake whimpers again, bucking his hips.

as you stroke him, you lean forward and press your lips to his. jake kisses you feverishly, the taste of his cum on your lips setting him aflame. you increase your speed and jake moans against your lips.

"baby, i'm gonna cum," he mumbles against your lips. you chuckle.

"not yet, jakie."

he groans, head falling back against the headboard. you pepper kisses along down his jaw and collarbone, biting and sucking the pale flesh as his moans increase in volume. you giggle again.

you kiss down his chest and abdomen, then finally, you plant a kiss on the head of his cock. he bites his lip, muffling a moan as you say the magic words. "cum, jakie."

without a second thought jakes orgasm hits him, ropes of cum painting your face like a canvas. jake closes his eyes as he rides his high, moans echoing in your room. as jake opens his eyes, you lick your lips, tasting the cum on your face. jakes head falls back again as he groans.

"you're gonna be the death of me, baby."

✧ SUNGHOON

sunghoon is the king of aftercare, no doubt. which is why his favorite place to cum is your stomach. he loves leaving a mess on you, spreading it along your body, and fucking you again, the cycle continues, just so afterwards he could clean you up so well and take good care of you.

you've lost count how many rounds it has been. 2? 3? maybe even 4? you're unsure. but all you do know is sunghoon is fucking you like an animal in heat. your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, tears staining your cheeks, and the cum on your stomach already drying as sunghoon pounds into you for the nth time that night.

he groans, pulling your leg over his shoulder to fuck you deeper. a moan leaves your lips at the new position.

"hoon, it's too much..." you sob, clawing at the bedsheets.

sunghoon shakes his head. "last round, my love, i swear."

your chest is heaving as, again, your orgasm approaches. you frantically pull at the sheets as you feel the knot tighten. "sunghoon, i'm so close!"

with his free hand, sunghoon rubs your clit frantically while continue to pound into you. "come on, baby. cum for me." with a pornographic moan, you cum, legs shaking as you squirt on sunghoons cock.

"shit, baby. oh fuck!" sunghoon moans as you squirt on him. his thrusts get sloppier and he quickly pulls out with a hiss, stroking his cock as he releases onto your stomach. the ropes of white cum land on your stomach and sunghoon sighs and falls next to you in the bed.

a minute or so passed when suddenly, sunghoon gets up and goes to the bathroom. you smile, knowing whats about to come as you hear the bath running.

sunghoon returns, wet towel in hand as he cleans you up and places a kiss to your forehead. he lifts you up and leads you to your shared bathroom. sunghoon gently places you in the tub and kisses your forehead again as you sigh.

"you did so well for me, my love."

— © lhseungs 2025: do not repost

. . . TAGLIST: @sailoryuns @sickntrd @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @rayofsunshineeee

[obito-in-disguise]

| Avoiding their touch |

Pranking male Naruto characters by avoiding their touch.

Uchiha Sasuke

At first, Sasuke ignores your strange behavior. If you wanted to be weird, that was your headache, not his.

But when you sidestep him during a mission as he reaches out to steady you after a jump, his eyes narrow.

"What's your problem?" he asks, deadpan, stepping closer and reaching out for you again.

You shrug innocently, dodging his touch once more. His jaw tightens, and he retracts his hand.

Sasuke is surprisingly patient after that. But after you dodge his touch a third time, that patience snaps.

Determined to keep up the charade, you move to avoid his arm when he tries to protect you again.

"Whatever" did you seriously think he had a problem with not touching you?

He doesn't even bother with words anymore. Playing along with your game, he grabs the back of your shirt and effortlessly flings you out of harm's way.

"Hey!" you cry, barely managing to land safely.

"You wanna play games? Fine," he mutters, completely unfazed by your wide-eyed glare.

For the rest of the day, Sasuke avoids your touch, despite your whining and apologies. This was your punishment for playing silly games with him.

Uzumaki Naruto

"huh??"

You must be tripping, Naruto thinks, watching you duck when he tries to pull you into one of his bone-crushing hugs.

Naruto is all about physical affection, high fives, random hugs, scooping you up into his arms. So when you dodge his hug, his jaw drops.

The look on his face is too ridiculous, you can't stop yourself from bursting into laughter at his utter shock of your audacity.

"You're so dramatic" you roll your eyes, pulling him into a hug as an apology.

Naruto grins and returns the hug twice as hard, lifting you off the ground for good measure. Ignoring your squeals of embarrassment, he parades through the village with you still awkwardly dangling in his arms as punishment.

"Put me down Naruto! You're so embarrassing!"

Aburame Shino

Shino is flabbergasted, to say the least. You never avoided his touch, and he loved that because you were the only person he was comfortable being affectionate with anyway.

His eye twitches, but his shoulders eventually sag in relief when he sees you struggling to contain your laughter.

You were just playing a silly prank after all, thank goodness.

He discreetly releases a meliponine bee from his jacket sleeve, the little creature was harmless and couldn't sting, but you didn't need to know that.

The moment you spot it, your eyes widen.

"SHINO, ONE OF YOUR BEES ESCAPED!"

Shrieking, you leap into his arms. His lips stretch into a smug smirk as he catches you.

"Oh? What's this? I thought you didn't want me to touch you?"

You narrow your eyes, quickly connecting the dots. Jumping out of his arms, you smack his shoulder lightly.

"Touché"

Hyuga Neji

Neji was pretty much sick of your shit at this point, you've been on a pranking streak all week and it put him on edge.

Now he questions every little reaction from you, wondering if it was a prank or not.

Even now, he stood watching you, his posture stiff, an irritated glare on his face.

"Stop testing my patience y/n."

He grits out, reaching for you again, watching you move out of the way.

"Have I...have I done anything to upset you?"

he asks, voice shaky, exhaustion creeping in. He was afraid this time you weren't joking and he might've actually upset you.

You immediately drop the act, not liking the kicked puppy dog look on his face one bit.

"I'm sorry, I was just messing around" you tug him into a hug to which he returns with a glare, ultimately glad this wasn't anything serious.

He reaches down to flick your forehead.

"Ow!"

"You're an idiot. Quit it with the silly games ok?" he murmurs gently brushing his fingers over the spot he flicked.

"Ok ok"

Uchiha Itachi

Itachi chuckles, watching you sidestep his hug. He immediately knew you were playing games, no one craved his touch more than you did.

"Are you sure you want to do that? I'm leaving for a mission and won't be back till tomorrow"

You bite your lip, weighing your options. He was right, 24hrs was way too long to go without a hug.

You huff, shuffling into his still open arms with defeat. "Fine, I yield"

He laughs again, giving you a soft squeeze before pulling away.

"I'll see you in a couple hours" he says, placing a kiss on your hair before pulling away.

"See y- wait what! You said tomorrow"

"I lied" he calls out, smiling casually, like he didn't just decieve you, continuing down the path without looking back.

You can't help but snort at his tactics, you were so going to get him back when he returns though.

Uchiha Obito

"Well aren't you a picture of domesticity" Obito muses, watching you make coffee in one of his button downs, the shirt large on you.

He can't help himself, he reaches out to feel your soft skin only to be met with air when you move out of the way, giving him a strange look.

If he paid more attention, he would've noticed the look on your face was you struggling to hold in your laughter, but his stomach was too busy dropping to his feet.

Obito was insecure, about his face, about his body, and his past. Despite your reassurances, a part of him never believed he was what you wanted.

He was chronically paranoid that one day you'd realize you could have better, and leave him.

It didn't take you too long to figure out what was going through his head when he froze, staring at you like a deer in headlights.

"Shit, this was a terrible idea" you immediately grab his hands, placing one on your cheek and the other on your waist "I'm sorry, I was just messing around"

He stares down at you for a few seconds gauging your sincerity before sighing, his body untensing in relief.

"You're a menace..." his arms snake around you, pulling you into his chest, happy this was just a joke.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry"

Hatake Kakashi

Kakashi notices but doesn't react right away. Instead, he silently joins your game.

Every time he sees you coming he makes a point to dramatically avoid touching you even by a hair's breadth, bending and contorting his body into all sorts of shapes.

"You're terrible" you giggle, trying to grab him, watching him dodge your hands like his life depended on it.

"me? You're the one who started it"

he finally relents, letting you tug him into your arms.

"You could've seriously hurt my feelings you know? I'm sensitive"

You snort, Kakashi didn't give a shit and you both knew it.

You lean up, tugging his mask down to peck his nose as an apology "You're about as sensitive as that rock over there"

He chuckles, deciding to let your snark go, he won after all, you wouldn't be avoiding his touch again.

I just realized I've never done headcannons for the naruto characters at once, so enjoy!

Feel free to check out my other Naruto Shippuden fics and more stories!

Tiny taglist🥲: @catlover19282

[mggslover]

Unrequited love

In which reader has been haunted all her life by the ghost of unrequited love, always reminding her of everything she could never have. That is — until she met Spencer.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader Genre: angst x fluff x smut (18+) Content warnings: spoilers for s8e12, very angsty but no worries there's a happy ending Word count: 5,4k A/n: for anyone who can relate to not having their love reciprocated, I'm hoping you'll find your spencer reid soon

It’s stupid, really, to love someone so wholeheartedly. It’s even more stupid to expect them to love you back.

Never in your life had anyone reciprocated your love — hell, no one had even accepted it. Unrequited love was a burden that has clung to you all your life, a thread of rejection woven through the fabric of your earliest memories. 

You remember the moment clearly, when as a little girl you found your mother hunched over the dining room table, furiously wiping away tears she did not want you to see. You watched from afar, making sure she left the room when you tiptoed to the table, finding a piece of paper ripped out of a notebook. Your small finger traced the letters of the handwritten note. The words were jagged, some unfamiliar, making you skip them. You experienced a rush of pride and excitement when you could make out some words: leaving, sorry, woman, goodbye. It was the first time you’d read something that wasn’t written in the large colorful books Miss Abigail assigned in school. It wasn’t until a few days later, when your mother explained that your father wasn’t coming back, that the weight of the note fully sank in. From that moment on it felt like your fate was sealed. 

In middle school you had some friends, but when the moment came to pairing up for school trips, it was you being the one left out. You always had someone you would call your best friend, but you’d never be theirs. Someone always seemed to be better, more lovable, more wanted. 

In highschool, you got your first boyfriend, Timmy. You weren’t sure you loved him, but you wanted to be seen, to be noticed. So when he asked you out, you said yes. For a while, you reveled in the feeling of someone showing you off. That was until the day you overheard his friends, talking by the lockers.

“I swear, his tactic is working!” one of them said. “Jessica dumped James the second she saw Timmy walking hand in hand with Y/N through the hallways.” 

“Oh shit, man,” another friend laughed. “If I knew that, I also would’ve used a fake girlfriend to get to Hannah.” 

A fake girlfriend. The words echoed in your mind as you started to make sense of the situation. It suddenly clicked how Timmy only showed you off in public, only kissed you in the busy hallways, where people could see. It was never about you.

You decided to give love one more chance in university, but when a night that was supposed to be the first of many, ended in a one-night-stand and a “I’m sorry, but I don’t really see you that way”, you made yourself a vow: no more chasing love. You stopped giving your love to people who would never truly appreciate it, and instead, you gave that love to yourself. The library became your refuge, spending endless hours studying to give yourself the future you deserve. You passed your exams with flying colors and never forgot to reward yourself after every small victory. And when you landed a position at the BAU, making it as an FBI agent, you knew you made the right decision to never fall in love again. That was until you stepped into the office, and you saw him. Spencer Reid. 

—

“And this is doctor Spencer Reid,” your boss Hotchner introduced him with a nod. 

He was tall, awkward in the way only someone who was brilliant could be, but he smiled warmly as he waved a hand at you. “Hi.”

You smiled back and stuck out your hand instinctively. “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

He blinked at the gesture, looking uncomfortable. He swallowed, his voice uncertain. “It’s nothing personal, I just don’t like shaking hands.”

You tilted your head and laughed. “That’s totally fair. Do you know how many germs your hands carry?”

His eyes widened in surprise, as if no one had ever said that before. “I-I actually do! The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to-”

“Kiss?” you interrupted, a grin spreading across your face.

The words came out simultaneously, and you both laughed. A sound that felt... easy. Like something you hadn’t experienced before.

Someone you would later come to know as Morgan, who had been leaning against a desk, looked up at the two of you, eyebrows raised in disbelief as he shook his head. 

It was then you realized — there was something special about Spencer Reid. It was something unspoken, something more than just the intellectual connection. Before you even knew it, you had fallen in love.

—

You never confessed your feelings to Spencer, but you felt like there was an unspoken understanding between you. Every morning, you arrived at work with an oversweetened cup of coffee for him, and in return, he made sure you never went without your favorite sandwich from the shop around the corner, especially on days when you were too absorbed in a case to remember to eat. On your days off, you took each other on trips. Sometimes to a museum where you would explain the art in great detail, and he would pretend not to know any of the facts, just to hear you talk. Other times, you’d go to a movie screening, where he would simultaneously whisper translations of the foreign dialogue to you, making you giggle when his breath tickled your ear. You convinced yourself that this was what love was: understanding someone to the point of not needing words.

But how foolish were you to have forgotten about the shadow that lingered behind you, always ready to remind you of everything you could never have.

—

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N! Have you heard the news?” Penelope squealed in delight as she rushed toward you, the rhythmic click of her heels making a melody against the office floor. 

You glanced up from your desk, raising an eyebrow. “Based on the excitement, I’m going to assume you're not talking about the wildfires in California.”

“Oh no, no,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m talking about big news. The juicy kind.”

You chuckled, leaning back in your chair as you sipped your tea. “Alright Pen, bring it on.”

Penelope’s grin widened. “Spencer has a girlfriend!” She yelped, hands flying to her mouth as she realized just how loud she’s gotten.

You blink as you try to process her words. “He finally adopted a cat?” 

Penelope shook her head vigorously. “Y/N, I mean a real girlfriend. An actual human being girlfriend!”

You scrunch your forehead, the words not quite connecting. “I don’t think I understand.”

Penelope leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Derek told me that Blake told him that Spencer’s been making calls... to a woman.” She glances around quickly, making sure no one can overhear. 

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your smile drops at the familiarity of the situation. Spencer had been leaving the bullpen often recently. You’d always assumed it was because he was still struggling with his headaches and didn’t want the team to get worried. Not in a million years would you have expected Spencer was seeing someone.

Penelope continues speaking, but her words fade into the background as your thoughts spiral. “Excuse me,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you push yourself out of your chair and rush to the bathroom.

Once inside, you lock the door behind you. Your chest tightens, the familiar weight of a panic attack settling in as if it had never left. Your breath comes short and shallow, the room spinning slightly as you grip the sink. The air feels thick, suffocating even. For the first time in years you find yourself back in this situation, fighting to breathe.

—

After a while, the whispers and giggles about Reid's love affair had died down. Still, it took Spencer some time to feel comfortable enough to share more about her — Maeve Donovan, the brilliant, lovely woman who had stolen his heart. Being his best friend, it was you who he turned to. The one who had to endure all the little details of their intimate phone calls.

And you tried, you really did. You tried to be the supportive friend, even when each word about Maeve felt like a thorn twisting in your chest. You’d joke, asking him if he was sure Maeve wasn’t some sixty-year-old man catfishing him, or teasing him about how it didn’t count as a relationship if you’d never actually met the person. The snark was the only way you could cope with the sinking feeling every time he smiled when her name came up, the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of her. But Spencer was oblivious to your remarks. No matter how hard you tried to plant seeds of doubt in his mind, it never seemed to have any effect.

It was a sad thing to admit, but on nights when anxiety kept you awake, you couldn’t help but wish for their relationship to end. You prayed for a chance to tell Spencer how you really felt. You convinced yourself there would be time, that everything was going well, and eventually you’d find the courage to speak up. But on nights like these, you deeply regret never having thought of the possibility of another girl realizing how incredible Spencer is, and making a move before you ever could. 

Those feelings of jealousy turned into big regret, when Spencer came bursting into the bullpen, panic and fear evident in his eyes. He was frantic, certain that Maeve had been kidnapped. His suspicions turned out to be tragically true, and your world crumbled the moment the gunshot rang out, taking Maeve from him. Your heart shattered into a thousand pieces as Spencer broke down in front of you, and you couldn’t even reach out to comfort him, believing it was you who caused this. That the ghost you knew as unrequited love, finally gave you what you wished for. 

You wanted to scream, to turn back time, to take back every selfish thought. But now wasn’t the time for regret. When Spencer locked himself in his apartment, unwilling to speak to anyone, you made it your mission to be there for him. You were the only person he let in, and when the door creaked open, you were struck by the sight of him — pale, hollow-eyed, and worn down in a way you’d never seen before. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace. The two of you cried together, until his neighbor shouted at you both for the noise. From that moment on, you’d take Spencer to your apartment. Making sure he had a warm, homemade meal waiting for him as you’d binge Doctor Who episodes, trying to get him to smile even just a little. Slowly, he began to open up, the weight of his grief pouring out in quiet conversations. And you made sure you listened to every word as you held him close, offering whatever comfort you could.

As the weeks passed by, the weight of the situation was becoming overwhelming. It wasn’t easy hearing the love of your life talk about another woman. The way he spoke about her, like she meant more to him after just a couple of months than you ever did in all the years you stood by his side. It was almost too much to bear. When you overheard a moment between Reid and JJ, where Spencer mentioned how he would’ve had kids if it weren’t for Maeve dying, you realized you couldn’t keep going like this. You needed time to process what you were feeling, to grieve what you’d lost — even if it wasn’t really yours to begin with. So, you called in sick for the next case. Hoping you could clear your mind, while the team was out of state.

—

So here you were, experiencing heartbreak like all those times before — rotting on the couch with a pint of ice cream as you watched reruns of Love Island. 

You jumped when a loud banging echoed from the front door. Your surprise faded as quickly as it came, knowing there was only one person that would bother you this late an hour. 

“Y/N, I know you’re in there. Open up!” Spencer’s voice rang out, firm and insistent.

With a sigh, you shuffled to the front door, trying to steady yourself before facing him. The moment you opened the door, you were met with Spencer, brows furrowed in concern and annoyance.

“Where were you? You didn’t show up on the jet, and you’re never late,” he said, brushing past you to step inside.

“Sure, let yourself in,” you muttered under your breath, closing the door behind him. “I wasn’t feeling well, had a headache,” you replied, keeping your tone casual.

Spencer paused, taking a quick glance around the room. His eyes landed on the TV blaring in the background and the half-empty pint of ice cream on the coffee table. He turned back to you, eyebrows raised.

“Your TV is on full blast, and you’re eating ice cream,” he said, his tone skeptical, clearly aware of your lie.

You sighed, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, I just needed a break.” 

“A break?” He scoffed. “You never take breaks. We practically had to force you to stay home when you got shot. You’re always there, no matter what. I needed you, and you weren’t there.”

As much as you appreciated hearing that he needed you, this wasn’t the time to feel flattered by it. “Spencer, I know,” you started, your voice taut with frustration. “I just had my own things to worry about.”

“What things?” He stepped closer, his tone rising. “What could be more important than your work? Then being there for a friend when he needs you?” It was obvious how upset he was.

“I was worried about you,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I called you every day, and you didn’t pick up.”

His words hit harder than you expected, and a bitter laugh escaped before you could stop it. “What about me, Spencer?” you snapped. “Have you ever thought about me needing a break? Or am I not important enough for that?”

“Oh, please.” His voice dripped with disbelief. “You’ve always been there for me, but suddenly you can’t pick up your phone because you need time for yourself?”

“God, you’re such an ass,” you shot back, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

“Me? I’m the ass?” His voice pitched higher, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“Yes, Spencer! I told you I wasn’t feeling well. I needed time off.”

“You could’ve just picked up the damn phone!” he yelled. “Do you even realize how worried I was?”

“It sounds like you were more worried about yourself than me,” you countered in an icy tone.

His face twisted in frustration, but then his shoulders sagged. “Is that what you think? I was worried about you. Can you even imagine what it was like for me to call and get no answer?”

You swallowed. For a split second your mind drifted to Maeve, thinking that he might’ve felt the same fear as when she didn’t pick up the phone. You quickly put the thought away, he didn’t care about you like that.

“If you’d just asked Hotch, you would’ve gotten an answer right away,” you responded, crossing your arms in defense.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, so Hotch knew?”

“Of course, Spencer. He’s my boss!”

“And I am your friend! I always tell you everything before I let anyone else know.”

You rolled your eyes, frustration taking over. “Well, that’s on you. Just because you feel the need to bother everyone with your problems doesn’t mean I have to do the same.”

The instant regret was written all over your face as the words left your mouth. Spencer’s expression shifted, looking completely stunned.

“Spencer, I didn’t mean-”

But the damage was done. His shoulders stiffened and his jaw tightening before looking away.

“Please, Spence, I swear I didn’t mean it like that,” your voice trembled as you reached out to him, but he instinctively took a step back.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry,” you pleaded. “I don’t know why I said that.”

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Oh, but you said it. And you meant it.” His voice was quieter now, but somehow it felt heavier. The anger in his eyes had faded, replaced with something worse: disappointment.

“Spencer,” you whispered, the sound barely audible. You were terrified to say anything else that could upset him.

He gaze fell down, before he looked back up at you. His expression had softened slightly, though the hurt still lingered in his eyes. “Do you really think I bother people with my problems?”

“No!” you replied in a desperate cry. “I don’t know why I said that. I don’t think that at all. I’m so glad you opened up to me and trusted me with your feelings.”

“And yet…” he trailed off, rubbing his temples in frustration. “You ignored my calls. You avoided me. And then you said that. Jesus.” His hands fell to his sides as he let out a tired sigh, exhaustion etched into every feature.

“Spencer,” you started, but he interrupted. “I don’t understand,” he said, looking at you like he was searching for answers he couldn’t find. “If you’re glad I talk to you about my feelings, why did you shut me out?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his question bearing down on you. “It’s just… a lot to handle, Spence,” you admitted. “I’m not a therapist. I don’t know how to deal with these feelings. I want to be there for you, I really do, but it takes a toll on me too.”

“It takes a toll on you too?” His voice rose, and you cursed yourself for triggering another outburst without meaning to. “I’m the one with ‘the problem’. I’m the one with the dead girlfriend! All you had to do was be there for me when I needed you.”

You exhaled heavily. “I’m getting a drink,” you muttered as you made your way over to the kitchen. Spencer followed behind you, not willing to give up yet.

“Of course,” Spencer said, with a sarcastic edge. “Grab a drink. That’ll fix everything.”

Ignoring him, you grabbed a glass and poured a generous amount of whiskey. You raised it to your lips, savoring the burn as you swallowed.

He crossed his arms, watching you with a raised eyebrow. “You know what? Go ahead. Keep ignoring the problem. That’s what you’re good at, right? Avoiding things.”

Your hand trembled slightly as you set the glass down. “I know you don’t believe me,” you said, your voice shaking, “but I am trying.”

“Trying?” Spencer’s laugh was humorless. “You didn’t even call me. You just disappeared. I needed you, and you left. What kind of ‘trying’ is that?”

“God, Spencer, I didn’t want to avoid you. I wanted to pick up the phone, to explain everything, but I couldn’t. I knew I’d just hurt you more, and I couldn’t-” Your voice broke against your will. “I couldn’t risk ruining all the progress you’ve made.”

Spencer’s expression softened, his furrowed brow easing as confusion replaced his anger. “You’re not protecting me by keeping whatever it is that’s bothering you to yourself. You’re hurting me even more by shutting me out. I want to be able to help you when you’re struggling, Y/N.”

Your throat tightened. You bit your lip in an effort to stop the tears and confessions from spilling out.

He gently cupped your hands in his. “Please,” he whispered. “Let me in. Let me help you like you’ve helped me.” 

Your chest ached as you stared into his glistening eyes. How could you possibly tell him? How could you burden him with the truth when he was already carrying so much? But the way he looked at you, so desperate — it broke something inside you.

The words escaped before you could stop them. “I’m in love with you.”

It felt like the world had stopped. Spencer stood completely frozen, his heart skipping multiple beats. Then he loosened his grip on your hand, and you immediately regretted speaking up.

“You.. you’re in love with me?”

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, guilt twisting in your chest.

He stared at you in silence, his gaze unreadable as he processed your words. After a long pause, he spoke up. “You’re sorry?”

At this point, tears were streaming down your cheeks. “I’m an awful friend.”

“No, no, no,” Spencer said quickly, stepping closer. His heart ached as he reached up to gently cup your face, brushing away your tears with his thumbs. He hated to see you cry. “You are not an awful friend — you’re wonderful.”

“Don’t say that,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m not wonderful, Spencer. I listened to you grieve every night, and still I felt jealous because she got your love, even if it was just for a second.”

His eyes widened. “Jealous?” he asked softly. “You were jealous of Maeve?”

You cringed at his words, shame tightening your chest. “I know, it’s disgusting. I get it if you never want to see me again.”

“Is that what you think? That I’d stop wanting to see you?” He shook his head. “How can you think I’d judge you for having feelings for me?”

“Because I blame myself, Spencer!” you cried. “I should’ve been happy for you, but I wasn’t. And now she’s gone, and I feel like it’s my fault.”

He closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into a tight embrace. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for any of that. You didn’t make any of those things happen,” he reassured. “They were just… they were just an unfortunate turn of events. You didn’t have any control over it.” He held you tightly against him, trying to comfort you as his heart ached. 

“You shouldn’t touch me,” you sniffled, but you weren’t able to pull yourself away, needing his touch.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. “I should touch you,” he said firmly. “I should hold you, and comfort you, and be there for you. Because that’s what friends do. That’s what I want to do.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice quivering with emotion. “I did feel jealous, but please, don’t think for a second that I didn’t care. I’d do anything to bring her back.”

“I know you care,” he murmured into your hair. “I know you do. That’s why I could never think of you as a bad friend.”

You cried against his chest, as the weight of all these months finally came crashing down. His arms tightened around you, grounding you. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve got you.”

You shook your head. “You shouldn’t be the one comforting me.”

“Yes, I should,” he said. His arms didn’t loosen, holding you as if he feared you’d vanish if he let go. “Your feelings matter. Your happiness matters. I don’t want you putting yourself aside for my sake.”

Something in his tone gave you the courage to lift your gaze. His eyes searched for yours, and they were filled with an emotion you hadn’t dared dreaming of. Carefully, he reached his hand out, his thumb brushing against your tear-streaked cheek with a gentleness that made your chest ache. 

“I mean it,” he firmly repeated. “You matter to me, more than you probably realize.”

It was out of instinct that you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand calming you down.“You can still talk to me,” you said quietly. “I just… I needed a break. But we can still have our talks.”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I know. And I’ll take you up on that.” 

His hand remained on your face as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “I care about you. I always have, and I always will.”

The proximity was impossible to ignore as his thumb traced slow, soft circles on your cheek, his eyes locked on yours. “I’m sorry,” he began, his voice quiet and pained, “for not realizing sooner how you felt about me.”

“It’s fine, Spence,” you replied with a shrug. “I should’ve been more obvious.”

A quiet sigh escaped his lips, his heart heavy with remorse. “You were, I should’ve known. Penelope and JJ never treated me the way you did.” He admitted. “I wasted so much time. I could have had you, but I was too blind to see it.”

“You… you would want to be with me?” you asked, surprise noticeable in your voice.

His expression filled with disbelief. “Of course I would. How could I not? You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re caring, you’re beautiful...” His voice dropped to a tender hum. “You’re everything.” 

You looked away, as doubt crept in. “You’re just confused,” you said. “I gave you a lot to process all at once.”

“I’m not confused,” he said steadily, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not about this. I know how I feel. I know that it’s you that I want.”

Your heart ached at how convincing he sounded, but you couldn’t stop your uncertainty. “You’re not over her, Spence.”

The mention of Maeve made him swallow, his gaze flicked downward for a moment. “I know,” he said quietly, as he looked up at you. “I know I’m not completely over her. I may never be. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “It doesn’t feel fair,” you admitted. “I’ve wanted you for so long. It doesn’t feel fair that I get to have you now.”

Spencer gently urged you closer. The simple comfort of holding you in his arms felt overwhelming. “You deserve everything, Y/N. You’ve been here for me from the start. You’re one of the most selfless, most loyal, most caring people I know.” 

The warmth in his gaze, the tenderness in his touch, made it impossible to look away.

“I need you,” he said, his voice a raw confession. “Not talking to you these past days was torture. I can’t do this without you. I need you in my life, Y/N. Not just as a friend.” He paused, his next words coming out in a whisper. “You deserve to be loved, please let me be the one to do that.”

You felt your breath catch. No word in the dictionary could describe the way you were feeling. “Can I kiss you?”

His lips parted in surprise, before his eyes flashed with emotion. “Yes. Please.”

His hands cupped your face, before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was everything — raw, urgent, and filled with years of unspoken longing. A desperate whimper escaped your throat, conveying the need you’d kept bottled up all this time. Spencer seemed to feel it too, deepening the kiss as his fingers threaded into your hair, afraid you might slip away.

He effortlessly lifted you onto the kitchen counter, his body fitting perfectly between your legs as you wrapped them tightly around his waist. The closeness wasn’t enough to satisfy your need. Your fingers found his tie, fumbling to loosen it before letting it fall to the floor.

They continued their path to the buttons of his shirt. Spencer groaned softly against your lips, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. Your palms met his bare skin, causing his grip on your hips yo tighten. The air around you grew hotter, as every inch of his body seemed to react to your touch.

“God, Y/N…” he roughly murmured. His forehead rested briefly against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath. But his hands never stopped, sliding down your sides and pulling you even closer.

You continued your exploration, your fingertips tracing the planes of his chest and shoulders as if trying to memorize him. 

You’d always imagined taking your time when this moment finally came — savoring every touch, every kiss. But now that it was happening, you couldn’t stop the rush coursing through you. The need to feel him everywhere, to prove that this was real.

“Spencer, please,” you whimpered against his mouth, your voice filled with desperation.

“I know, sweet girl,” he murmured, knowing exactly what you needed. His hands slid down to your thighs, gently parting them to make room for himself. His touches made you desperate for more, and you let out a quiet cry of relief as his fingers moved to his belt, the soft clink of the buckle filling the air.

You didn’t want to waste any time, tugging your pants down your legs in a frenzy, eager to meet him halfway. Spencer’s gaze flickered to yours, his eyes dark with need, and in an instant, his mouth was on yours again.

His kiss was hungry, all consuming. One hand grasped your waist, holding himself steady, while he used the other to hook beneath your leg, lifting it effortlessly to pull you in even closer.

You threw your head back as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your wet folds. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as he slowly pushed into you, the stretch intoxicating. Your fingers gripped his back as you sunk your nails into his skin.

The sharp bite of pain drew a low, guttural groan from him, his face buried in the curve of your neck. His breath was hot against you as he murmured your name like a prayer.

“I wish we’d done this sooner,” you gasped, as he began to move, his hips rolling into yours. 

His breath hitched at your words, and he pressed a soft kiss to your jawline. “I know, baby,” he mumbled. “We’ll make up for it,”

A soft giggle escaped you, but it was quickly swallowed by a moan as his pace quickened. 

“Oh, Spence… I’m already close,” you confessed, never having reached an orgasm this fast.

“Thank God,” he groaned, his voice rough with desperation, as his grip on your hips tightened. He guided you to meet his thrusts, the intensity of his movements growing erratic, overwhelmed by pleasure. 

Unable to resist, you cupped his face, pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss as you moaned and gasped for breath. 

Your walls clenched around him, drawing a string of delicate moans from your lips as your head fell back. Spencer took full advantage of your exposed neck, sucking and biting on the skin, claiming you. His thrusts grew deeper. He was determined to hit the spot that he knew would make you cry out in pleasure.

Spencer’s low, breathy groans filled the air, and you could tell he was close. Your legs began to shake around him, and as if perfectly in sync, your release crashed over you at the same time that he shuddered and spilled into you.

“I love you,” you gasped, the words leaving your lips over and over as your orgasm rushed through you. Tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision. You couldn’t tell if it was the sheer intensity of the feeling or the flood of emotions you’d been bottling up for so long, but what you did know is that you meant every word.

Spencer stayed close, his breaths uneven as he gently rocked into you, drawing out the shared high. Slowly, he pulled back just enough to brush your hair out of your tear-streaked face. His eyes locked onto yours, and it felt like he truly saw you — every part of you.

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you too.”

[nanaslutt]

Crack smut with the JJK men, using your funny/embarrassing stories :3

incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Toji, Sukuna

Contains: fem reader, established relationships, pussy eating, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, titfucking, throat-fucking, so much crack, ass slapping, anal (in sukuna's), teasing, first time (in Nanami's)

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Gojo:

"Oh fuck- Tight fuckin' pussy is suckin' me in~" Gojo groaned, grabbing your hips with both hands as he slammed your ass back against him. He was fucking you SO rough, the bed shaking and creaking with every thrust, your loud moans and his panting only adding to the noise. "Right there- o-oh my god right there-" The tip of his cock was hammering straight against your g-spot, making you see stars behind your eyelids when your eyes rolled back in your head. Gojo bit his lip, feeling himself get close. You arched your back deeper for him, helping the angle in which he was fucking you.

"M-my clit Toru- rub my clit-" You whined through your moans, feeling yourself creep closer and closer to your high. "I got you baby, fucking got you, gonna cum all over my cock? Huh?" He groaned, his hips losing their pace inside you. You let your jaw fall slack, moaning freely into the room as he fucked the both of you towards your orgasms. The shelf above Gojo's bed that housed some of his old trophies from his high school days had been shaking and trembling along with Gojo's thrusts; his hips knocking the bed into the wall repeatedly.

Right before you were about to get pushed over the edge, one of Gojo's solid metal trophies finally had enough; tipping over the wood it landed square on the top of your head, making you cry out in pain, Gojo's cock slipping out of you when your body fell forward, your hands no longer supporting your body as they cradled the top of your head, rubbing out the throbbing pain. Gojo had his head tipped back, so he failed to see what had happened, hence why he didn't stop the trophy when it fell. Safe to say he was a little confused when he opened his eyes, his chin tipping down as he watched you curl up in pain, groaning and cursing beneath him.

"Woah, what the fuck happened?" Gojo asked panicked, holding his hands out in front of him like if he touched you, you would break. "Fuck- trophy Gojo- your fucking- ughhhh-" You rolled over on your side, your eyes screwed shut as the throbbing only seemed to get worse. "Oh shit." Gojo said, his eyes landing on the heavy piece of metal that had knocked you straight on the head. He pulled his lips together, suppressing a laugh as he replayed in his head what it must've looked like when it hit you, the anvil noise sounding cartoonishly in his head when it made contact with you.

"Fuck baby-" Gojo spoke through his giggles, his hands coming to smooth over the skin of your hips and thighs, rubbing you sweetly, "I'm- I'm so sorry, are you okay?" His dick was twitching in synchronicity with his poorly concealed laughs, your eyes squinted as you looked at him from under your arms pressed to your head. "I'm fine but if you don't stop laughing, you won't be." You grit, your eyebrow twitching in irritation. Gojo burst out in laughter, making you kick your leg out at him, only it didn't hit him, it hit something softer. A warm and wet sensation caressed itself on your foot, making your head shoot up in panic, your hands holding your body up behind you as you stared at whatever had just touched you.

A large black dog was sitting by the edge of the bed, your eyes noticed how Gojo's door had been pushed open at some point by the large dog. Gojo turned his head, his giggles quieting as he reached out his hand to ruffle the dog's fur on top of his head. "I didn't know you had a dog, that fucking scared me." You said, plopping your body back down on the sheets, a little too roughly albeit, as the motion made your head throb again; you swore you had a concussion. "Oh, it's just my sons," Gojo said, nonchalantly. You staired at the ceiling for a moment, processing words before your jaw fell open incredulously, "YOU HAVE A SON!?"

Geto:

"Oh fuck- Suguru- right there baby- right there-" You squeezed your thighs around his head, feeling your orgasm creep up on you rapidly. Your boyfriend was kneeling between your thighs on the floor, his head buried between them as he ate you out with vigor, one hand wrapped around his cock as he stroked himself off, the other wrapped around your thigh, keeping you as close to his face as possible.

The two of you were innocently watching a movie, when a very explicit sex scene came on, making the both of you go silent and blush as you watched the two actors make love in front of you. Geto pulled you out of your own head when his big hand came to caress your thigh, slowly sliding up and up and up, until he was rubbing your over your shorts, not acknowledging his actions as he kept his face towards the screen, watching the man go down on his wife as he rubbed your clit through your shorts, feeling a damp spot start to form. Once you had enough and gripped his wrist, whispering out his name, it was over.

He had been eating you out for almost an hour now, you had cum twice and he was steadily working you towards your third. One thing about Suguru is he was going to eat you out until his jaw fucking locked, every. single. time. He shook his head against your pussy, sticking his tongue out as he let it beat against your sensitive clit, licking in your folds in the process, the stimulation making your legs tremble around his head.

Your hands were buried in his hair, tugging harshly whenever he sucked your clit into his mouth. Anytime he felt that burn on his scalp from your fingers, his eyes rolled back into his head, his hand simultaneously picking up speed as it throbbed at the painful pleasure, the dull ache in his balls growing stronger the more you did it. "Sugu Im cumming- fuck baby- cumming again- nghhh-" Geto moaned into your cunt, his eyes squeezing shut as he felt your orgasm crash over you. Your nails dug into his scalp, your thighs snapping shut around his head as you gushed on his eager tongue that was lapping up everything you gave him.

His loud moaning against your pussy was making you see stars. Geto jerked himself through his own orgasm, aided by your mean hands yanking on his hair repeatedly. Hot ropes of cum shot out of his dick and onto the base of the couch, some getting on his fingers that created lewd squelching noises on his flushed cock as he jerked himself through his high. Your hands pushed him away with all the strength you could muster, breathing heavily as your hand came to rest over your eyes as you caught your breath. Geto pulled back, the bottom half of his face absolutely drenched in your juices as he heaved with you, his face bright red from having cum so hard.

As he watched you catch your breath, your legs falling loosely over his shoulders as your body relaxed, he couldn't help but think how cute you looked like this, the skin on your stomach folding over itself as you slouched on the couch, your cute bellybutton looking right at him; there was only one logical thing for him to do. Your arm shot away from your face and down to wrap around Geto's neck when you felt him blow a raspberry into your tummy, the feeling sending you into a fit of giggles as your entire body tensed from the ticklish feeling. "Geto!" you laughed, grabbing his cheeks with your hands and squishing them together you raised his head to look up at you, a funny-looking smile on his face.

"Sorry, your tummy looked so cute." He said, his words coming out mumbly from the way you were squishing his cheeks together. You burst out in a fit of giggles, your head falling back against the cushion as Geto rose from his place between your thighs, laughing with you as he wrapped his arms around your body.

Nanami:

It was time, Nanami was finally going to lose his virginity, and with you of all people, his crush since high school, he thought he was dreaming. Your legs were spread open for him as his large body was slotted between your thighs, his thighs slightly under yours as he sat back on his heels, a condom packet in hand as he ripped it open, readying it to roll onto his cock. You laid patiently on the sheets, one of your hands between your thighs was slowly rubbing circles into your clit, your little hole clenching around nothing for Nanami's eyes as he tried to focus on the task at hand, this proving extremely difficult when your other hand started stroking his thigh softly.

"You're quite distracting you know.." Nanami mumbled, pulling out the lubed-up condom from the packet, and placing the wrapper next to him on the bed. "I can't help it, you're making me feel so fucking needy." You whined, tipping your head to the side against the pillows as your fingers came down to tease at your hole, dipping the tips in slightly. Nanami swallowed whatever saliva still resided in his dry mouth as his eyes darted between your cunt and the condom he had started rolling onto his cock.

"I'm.. not even doing anything," Nanami said, forcing the groan down in his throat that wanted to fall from his lips, a light blush dusting on his cheeks. "You have no idea what you look like right now, huh? Touching your big cock as you roll that little condom on it.. It's so hot Nanami, see how wet I am right now? 's all from you.." You whisper like it's a secret. Nanami griped himself hard at the base when he fully sheathed his cock inside the condom, feeling like he might cum from your words alone. He leaned over you, placing one hand by your head as the other jerked his cock slowly, his hand guiding it to your cunt as your hand made way for him, his mushroom tip rubbing up and down along your folds.

You wrapped your hands around his lower back, biting your lip as you kept your eyes on his serious face, the man biting his lip between his teeth in concentration as he teased your clit with his tip, feeling the little bud twitch against him. "You liked watching me put on a condom that much?" Nanami asked, his eyes coming up to meet yours as he dragged his cock down to align with your hole, his fat tip pressing against it slightly. You nodded, your jaw falling open in a small o when you felt him push against you more firmly before pulling back, testing the waters.

"Mhm.. y-you're so sexy Nanamin~" You whispered against his lips when he leaned his face down to yours, millimeters between your lips. "Fuck princess, you drive me crazy." He whispered, shaking his head as he continued to tease your cunt. You didn't know if he was doing it on purpose or not, but it was driving you crazy, you needed to feel him inside you soon or you were going to lose your mind.

Keeping your eyes locked onto his you slid your hand from his back to between your thighs, your hand wrapping around his cock as you gave him a couple slow strokes, his jaw falling open as you did so. You pressed him harder against you, "Stop teasing me baby, give me your fucking cock~" You whispered against his lips. Soon after you uttered those dangerous words, his tip popped into your hole, making you groan out in unison as his thick cock slid inside you, your mouths opening against one another as you relished in the first feeling.

"Fuckkk- It's so- so tight-" Nanami groaned against your lips, your hand sliding away to once again wrap around his massive frame as you dug your nails into his back, leaving little crescent marks into his pale skin. "Yeah? It feel good Kento?" You asked, kissing the side of his open mouth, his eyes shut and eyebrows scrunched as he took in the feeling of his first pussy. "ahhh- fuck- feels so good sweetheart, so fucking good-" He moaned, his eye cracking open as he kissed you back with vigor, moaning into your mouth as you greedily swallowed up each other's noises.

"Kento- movee.. fuck me~" You whined against his lips, wiggling your hips on his cock, feeling him twitch inside you. He nodded, pulling back his hips he slammed them against your ass, making you moan loudly against his lips as he quickly found a steady pace. Nanami sat up, placing both of his hands on either side of your head as he fucked his large cock into your tight cunt, feeling his orgasm already build up inside him at how warm and wet you felt, combined with the adorable expressions you were making as his tip rammed into your sweet spot.

"Does it feel okay sweetheart?" He asked, steadily humping his hips into you, his waist rolling deliciously as he made sure to aim his thrusts upwards inside your pussy. "Y-yes- ohmygod- so fucking good-" You groaned, your hands loosely holding onto his hips as your head laid back against the pillows, letting yourself feel everything he was giving you. When Nanami looked down to locate your clit, his hand coming down to toy with it, he noticed something.. off, and when he focused a little more, he noticed something felt off too.

Stopping his thrusts entirely he pulled his cock out about halfway, his fingers spreading open your pussy a bit as he looked at his cock. Your eyebrows furrowed in concern; wondering if he had come already, you tipped your chin down to look at him, ready to consol an embarrassed Nanami. You weren't expecting him to look at your pussy with the expression he had on, he was looking at it like it was deformed, making you voice your worry, "Kento? Everything okay?" You asked, sitting up on your forearms, your body folding slightly as you tried to see what had him so concerned.

"Uh.." Nanami said out loud, pulling out the rest of his cock, making you wince in the process. He let his dick bob freely between you, before he spread you open once again, trying to look inside you, obviously to no avail. "The condom.. is uh.. gone." He voices, looking up at you like you were supposed to know what to do in this situation. You burst out laughing, your hand coming to press itself over your chest. Nanami blushed between your legs, his hand resting on your thigh as he almost pouted, embarrassed at the situation.

"Honestly, that's my fault, I shouldn't have been distracting you when you were putting it on." You laughed through your words, rubbing his thigh in comfort. Nanami looked away from your eyes, his blush only growing deeper at the thought that he--a grown man--had put on a condom incorrectly. "We uh.. might have to go on a treasure hunt, sorry." He whispered meekly, his thumb spreading your folds open so he could get a good look at your hole while you laid back laughing, your fit of giggles not even being interrupted when his fingers scissored inside you to fetch the condom.

Choso: (small chested reader)

You moaned around Choso's cock as he fucked it slowly in and out of your mouth, your eyes squinting and coughs forcing their way out around his cock when he fucked his dick a little too far into your throat. You were currently laid out on your back on the bed, tits out, panties still on as Choso straddled your chest, his hands firm on the headboard as he used it to steady himself while he fucked your mouth.

You crossed your thighs together for relief while he used your mouth like a fleshlight, your hands gripped around the back of his thighs for support, your nails digging into his skin when it got too much. "This feel r-really good." Choso groaned, picking up the pace as bit as he shallowly thrust into your mouth, making sure not to go too far as to not bruise your throat or make you gag. You moaned around him, tears forming in your eyes from the roughness of his thrusts. You tried to breath through your nose the best you could when you had the chance so you didn't pass out while sucking his cock.

The vibrations from your moans were going straight to Choso's balls, he clenched his teeth together, the muscles protruding out in his jaw from the force as he tried to keep his composure, his head tipping back as he moaned freely into the room, his eyes falling shut as he let himself really feel your mouth around him.

It was so hot and warm, and the way you were licking your tongue around his cock and along the sensitive underside of him, along the big vein that ran up the length of his heavy dick was making him roll his eyes back in his head; he swore he was seeing stars. When he tipped his chin down once more to watch your mouth take him, he was distracted by your bouncing tits, the perky little mounds jiggling with his thrusts, and your hard nipples looked so fucking cute bouncing with them.

His mouth was filling with saliva the longer he watched them bounce; if he wasn't careful he was going to start drooling. Your eyes were screwed shut, so you couldn't watch Choso oggle your tits, but you did feel the way he yanked his cock out of your mouth so suddenly, making you cough and swallow air greedily into your lungs.

Without even saying a word, Choso put more of his weight on your chest, his hands coming down from the headboard as he pressed your small tits together, sliding his cock in between them, trying to titty fuck you. Although he wasn't accomplishing much, your tits were barely able to press around his cock. "Uh.. Choso." He looked absolutely enamored, his hands trying to scoop up more of your breasts to push together as he humped his cock between the small crater he had created.

"Y-yeah?" He responded, his eyes still not leaving your tits as he watched his cock rub back and forth between them, your saliva and his pre smearing along your skin. "I uh.. don't know what you're trying to accomplish but I don't exactly have the.. facilities for what you're trying to do." You said, looking between his solid cock rubbing against your skin, and his face, which was so focused on the task at hand.

Choso finally looked up at you, just briefly, a confused look on his face, like he didn't understand what you meant. This felt good, why would you not have the facilities? What did that even mean? "Huh?" he voiced, before his eyes were once again on his cock, his face flushed red from his ministrations. "No, no.. this feels good, wanna keep doin' this.." He mumbled, groaning as he massaged your small tits in his hands, pressing the skin against him the best he could.

He was clearly enjoying himself, he looked even more pleased than when you were sucking him off. His jaw was slack, his face was beet red, and his moans were steadily rising in pitch, his breath hitching whenever he paused to rub his cock against your hard nipples. You smiled at him, loving how good he was feeling regardless. You giggled internally, watching your boyfriend use your small tits to get himself off. Oh well, if it worked for him so be it, less work for you.

Sukuna:

"Take my fucking cock, fuck- feel me in your fucking womb- haha-" Sukuna laughed maliciously, one of his feet perched on the bed as the two of you layed on your sides, his cock pistoning in and out of your cunt rapidly from how wet you were. His hand was pressed against your pelvis so he could feel himself inside you every time he fucked his too large cock into your tight hole. "O-hmygod Kuna-" You cried, your hand bending behind you to dig your nails in his hair to support yourself.

"Yeahh you love that huh? Love how deep I am- ngh- when I fuck up your guts like this-" He groaned, biting his lip as he fucked you with more vigor, the loud squelch emanating from between your thighs making him feel pussy drunk. He was hitting your g-spot just right, combined with his fingers that occasionally came down to toy with your little clit, you were leaking all over his dick, you don't know if you've ever been so wet in your life. "Fuck- I love it, you're so fucking d-deep!" You cried, your head tipping back against his chest, giving him the perfect leverage to kiss you.

He grabbed your jaw with the hand that was pressed over your tummy, using it to pull your head back more towards him, "Cmere doll," Sukuna groaned appreciatively when your jaw went slack obediently, making it easy for him to stick his tongue in your mouth, tangling it with yours. The two of you moaned into the others mouth, Sukuna's nails digging into the skin of your face as he continued fucking his hips in and out of you an an inhuman pace, his balls tightening with every thrust.

Sukuna liked to pull his cock out almost entirely to the hilt, then fuck it back inside you at once, loving how your cunt swallowed up his dick with no complaints, squeezing around him when he jackhammered into your sweet spot. You've never had any problems with it before, but you've never done it in this position, and you quickly realized why. Sukuna fucked you fast, so fast he lost control over his own body sometimes.

This was one of those moments. He pulled his cock out a little too far, his dick slipping out unexpectedly as his hips kept jerking. His cock curved upwards, meaning when it sprung out, his next hard thrust fucked his big cock all at once, right into your unprepped asshole, making you almost bite his tongue as you yelped, your head snapping forward at the intrusion. Sukuna stopped his thrusting, looking down he realized what he had done, and why it felt so different.

His cock was currently balls deep inside your tight ass, the hole squeezing around him at the same pace as your heartbeat, creating delicious tension in his balls. "Fuck- Fuck Sukuna you're in my ass-" You cried, crossing your legs together as you tried to adjust to the stretch. You were wondering why he hadn't pulled out, instead, he smiled maliciously with a slacked jaw behind you as your asshole clenched and unclenched around his dick, making his balls tingle.

"This might work.." He laughed, rolling his body over yours so you were now laying flat on your stomach, your legs crossed behind you as he held himself over you in the prone bone position. "Always wanted to fuck you in the ass." You whined, feeling your hole start to loosen around him, getting used to the intrusion. There was still a very prevalent painful throbbing deep inside you, but your wetness had eased the stretch, so you weren't left with too much of a burn.

"W-what?" you asked, a slight tremble in your voice, but you weren't completely put off by the idea. "Yeah.." Sukuna responded, rolling his hips against your ass in circles, stretching his cock out inside you. "Doesn't feel too bad now that the worst part is over, huh?" He smirked, laughing at your whine when he pulled his cock out of you only an inch or so before he humped it back inside you. He was right, it really didnt feel that bad, actually.. it felt kind of good.

"Want me to keep going.. hmm?" He asked, pulling his cock out slowly he spit on it, fucking it back inside you slowly, repeating that motion a couple times to tip your mind over into agreeing. "Y-yeah.. feels kinda good.." You admitted, turning your head to watch him smirk down at you. Now given the go-ahead he started to pick up his pace, not nearly as rough as his one before, but one that definitely still had your mind spinning. "Fuck- Kuna.. I feel so much fuller like this.." You whined, clenching your fists by your side.

He gripped your hands together in his larger one, locking your hands behind your back in his iron grip he pressed your wrists together, pressing them down on the small of your back. "Yeah? Gonna feel even fuller when I fill up your ass with my fucking cum." He growled, biting his lip as he relished in the feeling of your tight virgin ass. This is not the way you thought you would try anal.. but hey, it wasn't half bad.

Toji:

Toji was absolutely obsessed with slapping your ass. He had no care in the world about it, zero shame. He would smack your ass in public, with a long line of people behind you as you waited for a concession, he slapped your ass in front of your parents, in the privacy of your own home, every single time you bent over anywhere, or walked in front of him, his hands were slapping your ass.

You decided after almost a year of this, that he needed a taste of his own medicine. Sure, it felt good sometimes, but it was fucking embarrassing, especially when he did it in public. His excuse? "It's mine isn't it?... why wouldn't I touch it?" He definitely needed a taste of his own medicine. You tried to gather up the courage to do it several times, but you always chickened out last minute, or he turned around and caught you at the last second. He never caught on to what you were trying to do though, thank god, you were always able to play it off.

You finally found the perfect moment though. Recently, a pipe in your sink had burst, meaning you called your large, handy boyfriend to fix it for you because a plumber was too fucking expensive when you could just force Toji to learn how to fix a broken pipe so he could do it for you. This meant your mammoth of a boyfriend would be bent over for hours, half of his body under the sink as he dug around with a flashlight, trying to figure out what was what, as his caked up ass presented itself to your greedy eyes, and soon to be, palm of your hand.

You stood across the room, admiring how well he filled out his pants while you took deep breaths, preparing yourself to get body slammed into the floor or chased across the house after you slapped his ass. Slowly, you crept up on him, biting your lip between your teeth as you got closer and closer. "Stupid fucking.. is this is? What the fuck that's the same fucking pipe in the video! Work! Stupid bastard... fuck." Toji cursed into the small space under the sink, some video of a guy showing him what to do playing with him.

You bent down, rubbing your hands agaisnt one another as you braced yourself for what was to come. Nothing would stop you this time, you were going to do it, do it, do it, just- *smack*. Silence filled the room, the connection making Toji go silent, the video playing quietly in the backround. Is this where you were supposed to run? Maybe this wasn't a good idea, fuck, forget giving him a taste of his own medicine you fucked up you- "Babe."....."Yes my beautiful, handsome, boyfriend."

"Did you just smack my ass?"

"......Yeah."

The silence was palpable, you waited for Toji to say something, anything. Every muscle in your body tensed up when his head turned around, a large smirk plastered over his face as he stared at you with dark eyes before he pulled his lip between his teeth. "I get why you like that so much, kinda felt good." He laughed. Your jaw dropped in disbelief, he was supposed to hate it???? This was supposed to be him getting a taste of his own medicine, "I don't like it I-" You started to retort, placing your hands on your hips when his voice cut you off again, his face still smirking at you, "Do it again." He said in full seriousness.

"....Huh?" You asked, your jaw dropping again. "It felt good, do it again." He said, wiggling his ass at you. You pulled your lips between your teeth, inhaling deeply through your nose before you sighed, your hands dropping to your sides. "I can't stand you." You said, turning and walking away while he laughed boisterously at your failure.

[kingkat12]

art on art (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), drug mentions, nasty fluff tihi

summary: why hasn't Eric reached out after leaving rehab yet, and how long does it take for marker ink to fade?

word count: 5,272 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is part 3 of my Eric Draven fanfic draw you! thanks again for the overwhelming support of this series, and enjoy!!<333

Some broken part of me never expected to see Eric again. I knew that the previous men in my life would leave the second they got what they wanted out of me, so why should I hope for this one to be different?

I had been out of rehab for exactly two weeks now, and I knew this meant that Eric was out as well. He had my address, he had my number, and he weirdly enough also had my email address... yet I hadn't heard anything from him. Not a single thing. I wasn't quite sure why my heart was breaking at the realization I had been thrown away again-- I should be used to this.

In actuality, I knew exactly why my hopes were up.

The last time I saw Eric, had been right before I was about to leave rehab. We were standing in my room, the guards no longer watching me as I was technically excused and only there to get my stuff. I was packing everything into a big cardboard box, unable to meet Eric's green eyes as he sat on my bed-- he just looked so damn sad, I couldn't bring myself to watch. 

At the same time, I couldn't believe that he was upset about me leaving; no one had ever cared for me like that before. "Why do you look like that?" I eventually asked, stuffing his drawings into a book so that they wouldn't get ruined during the move. 

"Like what?"

"Like I'm about to shoot a puppy,"

Eric snorted, a slight smile finally forming across his lips. "Just thinking about how shit these next days are going to be without you here,"

I dared to gaze at him, watching his chest rise and fall in a long sigh. Even while doing the simplest act of sitting, Eric looked downright gorgeous. His dark hair had grown even longer during the time we had known each other, which allowed slight curls to form along his forehead. Draped in pink, tattoos peeking up from the collar of his jumper, green eyes soft with feelings-- the sight was almost enough to make my breath hitch.

"Oh, you won't notice I'm gone," I mumbled, trying to lighten the mood at the same time as I tried to be discreet about shoving my underwear down into the box. "Time will fly by, don't you worry."

Eric shifted, moving closer to the edge of the bed. He stopped me from picking up the next batch of my stuff, leading my hands into his as his rounded eyes sunk into mine. "You're saying that as though I won't miss you,"

I held my breath, unsure what to say. 

Eric noticed my hesitance, squeezing my hands; "I will miss you. Do you understand that?"

Oh, I most certainly did not understand that. Not at all. But it didn't stop my heart from swelling, beating harder than it probably ever had before. It also didn't get any better when Eric led me between his legs, letting go of my hands so that he could put his against my waist. He looked up at me through his thick, long lashes, clearly trying to make me understand the longing lingering in his body. "Will you miss me?"

There was no question in my mind that I would. I'd miss him every second of every day, as I already did. However, I wasn't sure whether it was smart to tell him this, or whether that would make him lose interest like my previous flings. But weirdly enough, something told me I could trust this guy-- or was that just his pretty face doing the talking? "I will," I said, taking his face into my hands, brushing my thumbs over his cheeks in a newfound sense of affection.

Eric's previously glossy look suddenly became a hopeful one-- he pulled me even closer, my hands going up into his hair as he buried his face against the crook of my neck. 

There was something so sincere about him, that I couldn't help but smile. Even now, as I remembered it. Was I stupid to imagine that it had all been real? That he hadn't acted like he would miss me just out of pity?

This was definitely my insecurity talking. I needed to get it all out of my head-- which is exactly why I ended up going out tonight, my friends by my side as we made our way into our usual spot at the club downtown. Being back in the darkness of this place, music blasting through my ears, brought a lot of memories back; specifically the dark ones. 

However, I wasn't drinking. I wasn't taking anything, and I wasn't planning on doing so. In the back of my mind, I kept imagining a scenario where Eric would finally reach out and find me relapsed... and that was certainly not ideal. Then he'd definitely not want to be with me.

Maybe I just needed to forget about him?

And so I began trying-- it didn't take long before I sat down next to some guy trying to tell me about his life story. I had never been this disinterested in my life, allowing him to put his arm around me as I stared up at the light-show on display across the roof, lost in thought.

I wondered where Eric was. What he was doing, who he was with, where he was. Whether he thought about me at all. It quickly hit me that being sober at a club took away all the fun, and with alcohol floating around right before my eyes, I wondered whether I should bother staying sober or not. I didn't exactly have anyone to stay clean for, as I thought I would. 

And just as I was about to ask the guy next to me whether I could have the tiniest sip of his beer, I spotted a familiar tall frame across the room. I blinked several times, straightening up in my seat as though I was a woman possessed. I was sure it was him-- I immediately knew the second I saw the tattooed poem on his back peeking through the top of his shirt.

As though I had heard a gunshot, I got up from the couch, my whole body tingling with unexpected excitement. This was an adrenaline surge unlike anything drugs could give me, and it only grew stronger as Eric seemed to be leaving. 

Panicked, I sped up into a light jog despite being in heels, making my way through the crowd on the dancefloor. It didn't take long before I caught up to him, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt.

Eric had a bewildered look about him as he frantically searched who it could be that had held him back from leaving. When his big, green eyes finally landed on me, they widened as he broke out into a look of relief. "There you are!" he exclaimed, his large hands grabbing my shoulders. "I've been looking for you all over!--"

I was sure I would've started crying if I hadn't reached for the collar of his shirt, tugging him down to my level to press my lips against his in the neediest kiss I had probably ever shared. I flung my arms around his neck as he pulled me closer, both of us letting out relieved sighs at our reunion. 

I wanted to stay like this forever, swimming in the bliss of being reunited with the man who had haunted my every waking thought. However, I couldn't let myself revel in the joy before I got the answer to my question; "You never called!" I said, my hands now at the sides of his face. "You never fucking called!"

Eric hummed, connecting our foreheads as he closed his eyes. "I did... just from a different number. You never answered, so I had to track you down all the way here,"

My thumbs stroked over his cheeks, my anger simmering down into a slow ache. The thought of Eric calling without getting a response made me feel worse than bad. "How?" was all I was able to say, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

Eric blushed a little before pulling away, and I was unsure whether the reason for my sudden dizziness was the loud music or his smile. God, he was gorgeous. "Our dealers are cousins," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist as we swayed on the dance floor. "And your guy told me I could find you here."

"I see," The loving look in Eric's eyes nearly made me melt— it was clear that he had missed me as well. But my questions kept coming to me; "Why did you get a different number? Is everything alright?"

With that, Eric's smile faltered just a little. His grip around my waist tightened as he brought one hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear in a loving gesture. "I... suppose there's a lot I have to tell you, now that I've come all this way,"

I could sense that this was serious— I had seen enough of those guilty eyes for one lifetime. "I see," I repeated, pulling him in for another kiss, reveling in the feeling of tasting him again. There was nothing I had missed more about rehab than this. "Let's talk it out somewhere else, then?"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

It wasn't every day that I brought back men from the club— my policy was no men at my place at all, just in case I encountered a serial killer in disguise. But this thing with Eric was different; he could've moved in for all I cared. He could also proceed to burn it all down, rip me apart with his bare hands, and I'd let him.

However, the difference between Eric and the other men in my life was that I knew, deep down in my heart, that he would never hurt me; which is why I let him into my apartment.

I watched as Eric took a look around, his hands tucked into his front pockets as he whistled; "Quite the place,"

Shrugging, I made my way towards him as he towered over everything in my living room. "Sure is,"

Eric turned to me, a raised brow on display. "You're telling me you're loaded?"

I felt a bit embarrassed— I knew that once Eric found out the truth, he'd think of me just as all the other ones did. The spoiled girl who had nothing else to do but turn to drugs to get a high out of life. I couldn't help but grow nervous, unsure how to explain the truth to him; "Well... It's my parents' money,"

Eric nodded to himself, stepping towards me. "Are they around much? I didn't see them visiting you in rehab,"

The truth stung. "They don't want to look their biggest disappointment in the eye," I mumbled, my gaze falling to my feet. "But they make sure I'm still alive, I suppose. So it's not that bad."

There was a silence before I suddenly felt Eric's long, slender fingers beneath my chin, tilting me up so that I could meet his gaze. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't this; compassion. "Their loss," he said, the emerald green of his eyes engulfing my being with unexpected kindness. "At least you got a great apartment out of it."

I let out a warm laugh, now keening against the palm of his hand as he placed it to my cheek. "I've missed you,"

As Eric smiled down at me, it was obvious that his heart fluttered at the sight of me. I had never thought someone would ever look at me like that. "I've missed you too," he breathed. "Thought about you during every waking moment of every day. You have no idea how glad I am that I found you."

I could barely believe this was real— didn't stuff like this only happen in movies? "If only I had known you called," I mumbled, placing my hand on top of his. "Being without you was just hell... What happened?"

Eric inhaled a sharp breath, an unintelligible emotion swimming in his eyes. "I want to be honest with you, but... I'm afraid you'll run,"

In a flash of desperation, I placed his hand against my heart. "I have nowhere else to run but to you,"

Eric's green eyes rounded out, his lips parting in confusion— was I maybe not the only one stunned by the confessions of complete and utter love tonight? "I— Fuck," 

With that, Eric's strong hands gripped my waist, pulling me towards him as our lips came together in a hungry kiss. The sheer force of it, along with the element of surprise, nearly had me stumbling a few steps back. But Eric only followed; I nearly moaned out as I felt his tongue against mine, my hands flying up into his dark locks and pulling him closer. I had missed him more than I had ever missed anything in the world, including drugs— all my swarming feelings of never-dying love had me pushing away all my needs for an answer from him regarding his phone, and I let my back hit the surface of the couch as Eric hovered above me.

"Missed you," he breathed in between kisses, a slight growl to his voice. Something told me Eric was trying to melt himself into me to make sure we would never be apart again— it only made my need for him stronger. I clung to him, my legs wrapping around his tall figure as I attempted to pull him even closer than he already was. 

Fuck, his lips were so soft. Deadly soft. The way Eric was nipping at my lower lip, occasionally sinking his teeth into it to draw out a whimper, was making a familiar knot form in my lower abdomen. I barely registered that my dress was gone before I watched him discard his shirt somewhere on the floor— now that we finally had time, I let my fingers run over his tattoos, smiling into the next kiss as I realized we would finally have that messy morning I was promised. I couldn't wait to lie in his arms, tracing every piece of art on his skin, taking it all in— this was heaven. Everything about finally being alone with Eric was heaven. 

"Missed you too," I eventually managed to moan out, feeling him grow hard against the apex of my thighs. "I don't ever want to be without you again." My breath hitched as Eric left wet kisses down jaw, neck, breasts, and stomach, knowing exactly where he was heading. I drew my hand towards my mouth, gently biting down to suppress a rather girly squeal. 

"You'll never be," Eric purred against my skin, sinking his teeth gently into my thigh to evoke a sound. "If you think we're ever going to be apart from now on, I need you to scour that pretty little brain of yours once more."

It was impossible not to smile, and I squirmed against the couch before Eric's big, strong hands grabbed my hips, holding me in place as he pressed a kiss against my clothed sex. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was doing this to avoid telling me what had happened in the moments we had been apart. Despite wanting to give in to the pleasure, let him tease me and keep me on the edge through the night, my mind wouldn't let me.

In the moment Eric threw my underwear to the floor, now kissing up my thighs and leaving me breathless, I propped myself up on my elbows; "Hold on," I breathed, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair in hopes of getting his attention. "Eric, wait--"

As he looked up at me through his brows, eyes wide with confusion as he paused for me, I didn't know whether I could go through with it. This moment was so damn precious, something I had been longing for ever since the moment I saw him; so why couldn't it wait? With a sigh, I laid back down. 

"You okay?" Eric asked, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle against my hipbone. "Wanna stop?"

That was definitely not it-- I let in a lazy breath, my eyelids drooping over my eyes as my body shivered at the feeling of his hot breath against my cunt. Everything about this situation was making my brain shut down. "No... I don't want to stop," My hands reached for his, and Eric let out a hum, his free hand now ghosting over my sex. "Just wondering whether you drew it or not."

"Drew what?"

"What we did in that stairwell,"

Eric's eyes sparkled with amusement as he laughed, placing a wet kiss against the inside of my thigh. "You bet I did,"

"Will you show me?"

He hummed against my skin; "Later... I'm a little busy here, as you see," Eric hooked his arms around my legs, dragging me closer to him as I yelped. I could only laugh, the realization that I had finally gotten all I had ever wanted hitting me just as I felt the warm trickle of spit running down my cunt-- my hips bucked up in surprise, my breath escaping me. I was about to prop myself up on my elbows for a second time, hoping to get a look at what the fuck he was doing, but as he ran his tongue up between my folds with a ridiculously soft touch, I could only whimper.

The memory of Eric saying he would take his time with me when we were out of rehab suddenly dawned on me-- I was in for the long run.

It didn't take long before he had me writhing beneath him, a whimpering, panting mess. With every swirl of his tongue around my clit, every time he sucked in my aching bud between his plush lips, I held back the urge to buck my hips up against him. It got increasingly hard to keep still, especially when Eric pulled away to simply breathe down on my sex, knowing exactly where he had me. 

"Fuck," I cried, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair-- I did my best not to tighten my grip, fighting the urge to use his dark locks as handles. 

I could feel Eric smiling against me, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my clit; my breath immediately hitched, bucking up against his mouth in an attempt to beg for more. His fingers dug themselves into my thighs, driving my legs further apart as he made space for his broad shoulders. I whined at the loss of friction when he tilted his head to look up at me, and a shiver ran up my spine at the look of his face, slicked with my arousal. 

A mischievous smile spread across Eric's plush, glistening lips; "Someone's impatient,"

I could feel my cheeks redden with embarrassment, lolling my head back down against the couch-- looking at him only made it worse. "Can you blame me? You're doing this on purpose," 

Eric hummed, one hand leaving my thigh to lazily rub soft circles around my clit, using my slick as a lubricant. It only made me squirm, letting out a shaky moan as my back arched slightly off the couch. Even worse, was that I started to feel a small tremble appearing in my hands. "Can't handle a little teasing?" he said, biting his lip as he watched me attempt to suppress my noises. "You keep saying you've waited for me... What happened to your patience?"

I held back the urge to simply kick him-- but that thought immediately slipped out of my mind the second Eric flattened his tongue against me, licking a stripe all the way up to my swollen clit. It was impossible to suppress the hitch of my breath, and the tug I gave his hair in response was purely instinctual. It surprised me further to hear him enjoy it; I decided to keep that observation stored for later.

I had a feeling Eric knew my mind was buzzing, that he wouldn't be able to toy with me much longer. There might've been a few giveaways that I was at my wit's end-- all of which left me feeling like an even bigger mess than I already was beneath him. "I- I can't," I whined, my words leaving me as Eric sucked me in once more. "Wait, please!--"

He hummed against me, now pressing his lips against the crease of my thigh as a chuckle built in his throat. "Fine, fine," he said, playfully sinking his teeth into my skin, his green eyes watching my every move. "I suppose I'm dragging this out... I don't know why I'm feeling nervous."

Nervous? Eric didn't look very nervous to me. "It's just me, though?" I tried, attempting to catch my breath as I laid my hand on top of his. My next words came out shakier than anticipated, especially now that he was kissing his way back up my body; "You don't need to be nervous."

Eric hummed, his large, tattooed hands kneading my chest, kissing along the hem of my bra. "It's just... When you left rehab," he started, his lips pressing along my collarbones. "I realized it took me days to recover after a dream with you in it."

The rush of joy surging through my veins reminded me of a hit of amphetamine-- it was all-taking, consuming, and I wanted nothing more than to press him so closely that we'd melt together. "Eric--"

"I've drawn you over and over," he breathed, kissing up my neck with a toe-curling softness. "In every way possible. Imagined the way you'd look at me after waking up in the morning, how it would feel to kiss your pretty little face good night..." Eric's lips hovered above mine, our shared breaths hot and shaky against one another as he continued; "I want you to burn into me like warm glass, mold into one. It sounds insane, but... how else can I ensure we stay together?"

My eyes were wide, finding his, as my hands reached up to cup his face. Like this, I finally had the time to admire the tattoo above his right brow, the deep scar on his cheek, and the tattoo above it. I stroked my thumb over the ink, holding back from connecting our lips just yet; "If you think I'm ever leaving you, I need you to scour that pretty little brain of yours" I breathed, watching his pupils dilate as I bit back a smug smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm all yours?" My fingers now ghosted over his lips, still wet with my slick, as an idea suddenly hit me. "Actually..."

Eric watched in confusion as I shifted beneath him, now reaching for the table right by the couch. There, I had left a marker which I had previously used to write a birthday card, and I took it into my hand before laying back down, looking up at the puzzled look on his face. "I'm not able to physically melt into you, but..." 

Eric's green eyes widened further, watching as I popped the cap and drew a tiny little heart on the peak of his shoulder.

I met his gaze, beaming up at him; "I can leave my mark,"

The most unexpected thing happened-- The sight of Eric welling up in tears was not something I had counted on when I let my impulses take the lead. For a second, I got genuinely worried I had overstepped all boundaries until he pinned my hand above my head and pressed a needy, passionate kiss against my lips.

I couldn't control the moan that escaped me, my hips bucking up against his, feeling his hard length grind down and brush up against my clit as our chests came together, pulling each other in as close as possible. The need I felt for Eric was undescribable, ravaging through my being-- I had never wanted anyone as bad as this. 

Mind dulled by anticipation and pleasure, I barely registered that he had managed to pry the marker from my fingers and pull it into his hand. Eric disconnected the kiss, pressing his wet lips against my cheek before propping himself up on his knees, scanning his canvas. "I'm definitely dreaming now," he whispered, mostly to himself, hovering above me as he drove the marker tip to the point where my ribs met on my chest. 

I could only smile, watching my favourite artist at work with admiration blossoming in my chest. Knowing I would be decorated with his work made me even more hot and bothered; I did my best to get a look at what he was drawing without disrupting his process. 

Eric drew a line down my chest, a few leaves scattered along it-- it dawned on me that he was drawing a rose. A beautiful, big rose, with that same scratchy style that I recognized from his previous creations. I watched him dart his tongue out, keeping it between his lips, focused; I couldn't help but find it endearing.

"Art on art," he breathed, pulling away to drink in the sight of what he had drawn on my body. Eric's green eyes found mine, his shy smile returning to his plush, glistening lips. "You're beautiful. You're so beautiful."

"So are you," I held back the urge to cry happy tears, my hands reaching out for him. "I love it, Eric. I'm scared of needles, so I won't be able to get this tattooed... Meaning you'll have to draw it over and over. Would you do that for me?"

Eric let out a choked laugh, eyes glossing over as he put the cap back on the marker, discarding it somewhere before returning to his place above me. "I'd do anything for you,"

I hadn't smiled so brightly in what felt like years. Like this, at this moment, I was sure this was it. He was it. 

Before I knew it, we were completely lost in the fiery kiss that ensued-- Eric's tongue against mine, hands lost around my waist as my fingers hooked into his dark locks, our chests heaving at one another. I was so gone, so dizzyingly aroused, that when I felt his thick cock pushing past my sopping entrance, I could only gasp. 

Eric let out a grunt, both of us moaning into the kiss at the immediate relief-- I could barely believe that this was real, that we were back as one. In a sense, this was the melting together that we had both craved so badly. 

My nails dug into his back, leaving crescent marks in their wake as I let him push further into me. Eric buried his face in the crook of my neck, letting out a breathy groan against my skin when he finally moved. His cock stroked my walls the same way it had that one evening in the stairwell, the exact feeling I had chased as I buried my fingers deep inside of me every night since-- I had forgotten how the real deal had felt. How mind-numbingly good it felt to have Eric in me.

I whimpered as I felt his cock throb upwards, immediately hitting my sweet spot, and I wrapped my legs around him, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever. Knowing I bared his mark on my chest, knowing he had dreamed of this as well, only strengthened the electricity running all the way up to the tips of my fingers. I didn't know how I was supposed to last long at all, especially when I heard Eric moan out my name-- I shivered, pressing my lips against the heart I had drawn on his shoulder. 

I noticed a blush creep up his cheeks before he connected our lips once more, but it was hard to kiss properly when we were both in a heavy daze of pleasure-- we ended up mostly breathing against one another, Eric's green eyes watching as I let out a string of moans with every stroke of his cock. 

"You're everything," Eric rambled, nipping at my lower lip to suppress another grunt. "You're everything, you're-- Fuck!--" His hands dug into my hips, fucking me properly into the couch as he deepened his thrusts. 

My heart fluttered in my marked chest as I realized we were both looking down to watch our union-- the sight of Eric's cock pumping in and out of me, the wet sounds of our love filling the room, was almost enough to bring me over the edge. I also caught a glimpse of the petals drawn over my body, realizing I was admiring both the art and his body against mine. 

My back arched off the couch as Eric shifted, angling his thrusts upwards-- now, he was dead on pumping his cock against my sweet spot, which had me mewling out against his lips. "Eric, I-- I'm not gonna last, a-ah!--"

With glossy eyes, I watched a smirk spread across Eric's lips; "Let go if you need to," he cooed, his dark hair now kissing his forehead as he let out a laboured grunt. "We'll go again, baby-- hah, don't worry."

That was all I needed-- my heart fluttered, realizing we had all the time in the world to fuck all through the night. 

Forever, if we wanted to.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

This was nice. Stupidly nice. Nothing in my life had prepared me for this moment.

The softness of his fingers running up my bare shoulder, the kindness with which he bathed me-- I didn't even know this existed before now. I looked up at Eric, my head nuzzled against his broad, tattooed chest as we lay in post-coital bliss. I reached out to trace the heart I had marked him with, and I wondered what else I could draw on his beautiful body.

However, I knew I had to ask the question he hadn't been willing to answer yet. I had to look past how heavy his beautiful lashes looked in his drowsy state, and how badly I wanted to reach out and trace the upward slope of his nose, to ask what needed to be asked. "Eric?"

He hummed, glancing down at me. 

It was incredibly hard to take my eyes off his kiss-swollen lips. "You never told me,"

"Told you what?"

It felt as though we'd had this conversation about three times now; "You didn't tell me why you changed your number. Or why you waited to reach out. Or, better yet, why you didn't just show up here... I even gave you my address," I couldn't stop the imminent pout appearing across my lips-- I had forgotten how upset I was about this. "I waited for you. I nearly drove myself crazy thinking I'd imagined it all."

Sighing, Eric's gaze diverted to the ceiling. "I'm sorry. I will tell you everything. Just... could I have one more day?"

"What?" Something told me that his secret was a lot more damning than I initially thought-- why was he so reluctant to tell me? Did he think it would change how I felt?

"One more day," he echoed, his tattoed hand mindlessly traveling up into my hair as his eyes glossed over.  "Just give me one more day..."

I didn't know what to say, at a loss for words. Instead, I popped the cap to the marker in my hand, realizing I wouldn't be the one to deny him his one wish. Eric closed his eyes with a sigh of relief as he felt the tip of the marker against his skin once more; time was a gift I was willing to give him.

I was willing to give him absolutely anything he'd ever want-- I just hoped it wouldn't be the death of me.

(a/n: PART 1 and PART 2 linked here<33 thank you for reading!!)

[creamiecoups]

conditioned - seungcheol x reader

↠  pairing : seungcheol x reader

↠  summary : you were too naive, too sweet, and seungcheol had to be the one that gets to wreck and destroy you… and also make sure you were conditioned enough to never dare to leave him.

↠ word count : 5.1K words

↠ warnings :  swearing, drinking/getting drunk, dom!seungcheol, noncon/dubcon, use of pet names, mentions of past cheating, rough fingering, slight choking, drugging

↠ author’s note : heyy guys sorry about the delay on this i was busy with new years stuff and i realised that this was wayy too long and also wanted to make it a series so this is just part 1! i hope you guys like it so far and lmk what you think :) also happy new year !! i hope this year is filled with happiness and love for each and every one of you 🫶🏼

part one part two part three

It all started on that rainy night.

You still had half an hour until closing time, when you could finally go home to your warm and cozy bed.

The cafe you recently started working at was in a busy part of Seoul so it wasn't much of a shock to you that it was bustling at 7pm on a Friday night. But with the looming worry of your piling assignments and all the bills to your tiny apartment, you just really wanted to go home. Even with so many worries and stress, you were never one to show it too much, preferring to keep it within you while you be the best version of yourself while talking to others.

And so, when the tall and extremely handsome man came to the cash register, voice dripping in honey as he ordered from the menu, you still maintained your good behaviour.

"Is that by cash or card for today?" You asked, not paying much mind to his observant eyes scanning over you as you clicked away on the screen.

"By card, sweetheart, thank you."

You looked up as soon as the word fell from his lips, but all he did was flip open his wallet, pulling out the sleek black card before pushing it towards you with a cute smile, his eyes mimicking crescent moons.

After taking the card from his hands you hovered it over the pay screen, suddenly feeling small as he watched you before you gave it back to him.

Working at a cafe in the city means you always serve cute customers, but this one just felt different.

"I'll sit by the back... can you bring it out for me when it's done?" He asked, taking you aback as you just stared at him like he grew ears and a tail.

"Hello? Did you not catch that?" He asked again, honeyed voice still gentle as he tilted his head to the side slightly, causing you to shake your head.

"S-Sorry um... I'm a-actually just a cashier, my co worker will bring it out—"

"Do you know who I am darling?" He cut you off, causing you to crease your eyebrows.

"N-No—"

"Oh my god...M-Mr Hong, I'm sorry Sir, she's new to Seoul and only recently started here, I'll make sure I teach her well."

You watch in shock as your usually strict and nonchalant manager stumbled over her words, bowing down repeatedly before your eyes trail back to his, as he eyed you down.

"That's alright... when my order is done, make sure she is the one that hands it to me."

You both watch as he walks away without another word, before Soyeon, your manager, all but drags you into the kitchen area, shutting the door behind her rather loudly.

"Where the fuck is Yugyeom? I told him to watch the newbie for a bit while I was on break, didn't I?" Soyeon spat as she stormed around before a confused Yugyeom walked in through the staff room door.

"Oh shit my bad, I went to drink water," he mumbled, clearly confused as Soyeon rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure you were. Mr Hong is here, alone it seems...and this girl spoke to him like a normal customer! I don't have the time to explain anything right now but from now on, no one leaves her to the cash register alone...Yugyeom take over for a bit he requested her to bring his order," Soyeon went on before looking towards me as I looked around at all the people in the kitchen that stopped upon hearing that guys name.

"I'm s-sorry did I do something wrong? Is he-he like political or—"

"Political," Soyeon scoffed, shaking her head before leaving the room as everyone slowly went back to what they were doing, except Yugyeom.

"Hey don't stress, I'll explain after we close.... I'll cover for you until you get back but, don't talk to him too much okay? Only answer whatever he asks, nothing more, and definitely nothing less....he's dangerous."

Yugyeom pushes the tray in front of you before walking away soundlessly, as your left stunned.

He's dangerous.

Yugyeom words rang in your mind as you carefully walked past the tables to the very end of the store, where there was a couple of booths.

"Here's your iced americano... I-I hope you enjoy—"

"Where you running off too that quickly? Come sit," he spoke, hand wrapped around your wrist tightly before you could've ran back. You hesitantly nodded, before sitting opposite him as he took a sip of his drink, eyes still trained on yours through the rim of the transparent glass.

"Your manager said you're new....where are you from?" He asked innocently, although he already knew almost everything about you.... the rest you would have to fill in for him.

"Y-Yeah....I'm from Iksan actually....came here for....for university," you answer truthfully, although you felt wary talking about yourself in detail to him.

"Oh? What are you studying?" He asked again, as you looked towards the front of the cafe.

"I-I think I'll have to head back I'm sorry—"

"Darling you're with me, your manager won't mind, now answer me," he shot, causing you to swallow thickly.

"I-I study psychology," you almost mumbled, before his pretty face was contorting in interest.

"So you like studying how minds work, huh? That sounds cool," he says, taking another sip of his drink before you both turn to see Yugyeom telling a customer that they're closed now so they can't order.

"Oh pity, you guys are already closed," he says, making you turn back to look at him.

"W-Who are you?" You muster the courage to ask, mostly the curiosity getting to you.

"I never introduced myself, I'm Joshua sweetheart, I work nearby."

"It was nice meeting you, but I think I'll have to help close," you said, almost getting annoyed of the man in front of you.

He was gorgeous, there was no doubt about that...but everything about the way he was acting along with your co workers, held up red signs in your mind.

You swore he almost rolled his eyes, before he was standing up and walking towards the front cash register as you followed behind him in confusion.

"I'm sure you guys can manage a close right? Y/N looks really tired today she's going home," He blatantly said, before looking towards you again.

"Go get your things."

You don't know what it was, but you found yourself complying to his words as you walked into the staff room to get your bag, Soyeon no where to be seen. Yugyeom looked horrified when you came back out, his eyes looking at you as if trying to convey that he hopes your safe.

You slightly nod his way before looking back towards Joshua.

"Thank you," you mumble, before quickly speeding out to the car park outside as he followed you out.

You don't really know why you said thank you, or why you even listened to his words but you deemed it a good idea considering Yugyeom did mention he was dangerous.

Fishing out your keys from your tote bag you quickly got into your car, pushing the key in to start your car as you noticed he was just standing not too far from your car almost expectantly.

And as expected, your car made no effort to start up even as you turned the key, your eyebrows furrowing as you cursed under your breath. After trying a few more times you gave up, letting out a deep sigh as you exited your car again before shutting the door.

"What's wrong?" Joshua instantly asked as you shrugged.

"My car is dead, I don't even know why," you mumble, trying to walk past him before he grabbed your arm again.

"Where are you going?"

"Inside, im gonna ask my co worker for a ride," you answer, pulling your arm out of his grasp as he shook his head.

"No need, just come with me, I can drop you off."

"What n-no," you instantly deny, staring up at him in shock.

You didn't even know him, why did he think you'd say yes?

"Do I look like a murderer Y/N?" He asked, tilting his head to the side as his big doe eyes stared at you.

"N-No but.... but I don't know you and it's fine you—"

"I'd love to, really..... do you live far?"

"No just a few minutes away," you answer, slowly realising it might not be such a bad idea.

If you waited for a co worker you'd have to stay back closing, and you were beyond tired to do that.... and Joshua, although slightly weird, didn't give you any doubt to think he was a threat.

Even though Yugyeom had called him dangerous....

"If we're not far than just come, the longer you take your losing time sleeping," He stated, as you bit your lip in thought.

You guessed it wouldn't be so bad.

"Fine yeah," you mumbled, nodding at him as he flashed you that charming smile that had your stomach doing flips.

"Good, follow me."

You followed behind him, completely unaware of the smug smile on Joshua's face as you both passed your old car.

It wasn't too hard for him to make sure it wouldn't work, but that battered car was hanging by a thread anyways.

Your mouth hung open once you saw the black Porsche parked not too far from the entrance, as he opened the passenger door for you with a chuckle leaving his lips at your reaction.

"Are you gonna get in?"

"S-Sorry," you mumble awkwardly, before quickly sitting inside as he shut the door.

You knew he was probably rich as fuck, if anything that ironed to perfection suit with a Chanel pin gave it away, but being inside such a luxurious car made you feel sick.

This was definitely worth more than a whole year of your college tuition fees.

"Can you put your address in for me?" Joshua asked, pointing towards the huge tablet in the middle as he started the car.

You nod shortly before typing away, still not being able to shake away the utter shock you were feeling sitting in such a nice car.

"Do you like working there?" Joshua suddenly asked after a few minutes of silent driving.

"Yeah I do, it's fun," you say, playing with your fingers nervously as he hummed.

Thankfully you saw your apartment complex come into view, making you let out a sigh without even realising.

"It was really kind of you to offer me a ride, thank you," you say politely, as he smiled at you warmly.

"Of course, get home and rest up you've had a long day.... your cafe is my usual so, I'll see you around," he says, giving you a small nod before you thank him once again before getting out of his car.

The whole elevator ride up to your apartment and for the next two hours laying in bed, all you can think about is that mysterious but kind man. It's as if all the sleepiness you felt throughout the day disappeared, your mind running with so many thoughts. You thought back to how Soyeon and Yugyeom acted around him, and how odd you found him when he asked you to sit with him. Although you knew it was very sweet of him to give you a ride, you were a stranger to him too, his aura was comforting almost, and something told you that was definitely not the last time you'd see him around.

And you were right.

Something you were terribly wrong about though?

There was nothing comforting and sweet about Joshua Hong.

———————————————————————————

A few days passed since your first encounter with Joshua, and almost every one of those days in between he was at your cafe, ordering the same thing and having conversations with you.

One iced americano, bring it out for me.

Although you still found that weird, you kind of enjoyed his company. You soon found out he worked at a law firm, he lived alone but was thinking of adopting a puppy soon, and he was so interested in your studies and out of work lifestyle.

Lies, lies, and more lies.

But you didn't need to know that yet.

You tried keeping your words on the low though, not giving away too much about your not so pretty life at the moment and how you manage to make a living. Yugyeom and Soyeon had become rather silent everytime you interacted with them.... and Yugyeom never explained to you what he wanted to say about Joshua the first time you saw him.

"He's cool, just really intimidating cuz he's like a law dude y'know?"

"Gyeom you called him dangerous.... I don't really believe you would've used that word so lightly without a reason," you had said, to which he just shrugged and brushed off to another random topic.

Anyways that was over a week ago, and for now you just wanted to let go of every thought for the night as you enjoyed some drinks with a couple of uni friends at a club of their choosing on a Sunday night. You swore to yourself that you wouldn't get wasted since you had work the next morning, but alas one drinking game bled into another and by 11pm you were already nearly gone.

You didn't feel like going home anymore, not that you could until all your friends tapped out since you guys promised to Uber together, but eventually the games got boring so you excused yourself to go sit on one of the stools in front of the main bar, chin in your palms as the cute bartender came your way.

"Can I get a cosmopolitan, please," you say politely before running a hand through your hair.

"A cosmopolitan? Thought you'd choose something more sweeter," a voice from next to you spoke, making you whip your head to look at the man.

Your mouth slightly hung open, staring across at who you were sure was the hottest man to grace the world, all the alcohol in your system making you much more bolder than your usual quiet self.

"And why do you think you have a say in what I order? It's my favourite," you huff, as the man's eyebrows go up in amusement.

"Now, now....no need to be snappy, I was just curious.... think you'd like an expresso martini more," he chuckled, tongue swiping across his red plush lips as he eyed you up and down.

"Alright, let's see," you say, as the man smiles your way before calling over the bartender.

"Swap that cosmopolitan for an expresso martini, and get me my usual."

"Usual? Do you come here often?" You pique, resting your chin on your palm as you look at him.

"Something like that... I've never seen you here before though? I must say.... this doesn't seem like your setting," he smiles again, before the bartender was sliding your cocktail in front of you.

"Enjoy your drinks," he bows before running off, his playful smiles and comments completely gone.

"Come on, have a taste."

You slowly bring the glass rim to your lips, before opening your mouth.

"Oh shit, it's so good I can't believe I've never tried this before," you gleam, eyes sparkling as you quickly take another gulp.

"I'm surprised you haven't as well, so now you can stop having boring old cosmopolitans," he said, as you watch him drink an almost brown liquid.

"That however does not look inviting," you say, as his eyes flicker to yours.

"Wanna try? It's my personal favourite."

You hesitantly grab his glass, if anything the strong whiff you get should've thrown you off but you take a sip anyways, instantly gagging and coughing as he chuckles.

"How are you drinking that? It's horrible," you whine, drinking your martini in hopes of flushing that horrid taste from your mouth.

"It's whiskey darling, should've known you might not be able to handle it actually," he chuckled again, making you knit your eyebrows together.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You question, as he smiles widely, dimples sinking into his cheeks as you felt like your knees would've given out if you weren't sitting down.

god. he was an eye sore.

"Nothing, sweetheart.... now tell me your name?"

"Y/N, L/N Y/N.... and yours?" You ask, trying to ignore the set of butterflies that were released in your stomach from his pet names.

He leaned forward, tucking your hair strands behind your ear as his soft brown eyes were glued to yours.

"Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol."

You probably should've just ended the conversation there and gone back to your friends, but hours pushed the night deeper, a couple more cocktails with Seungcheol listening to him tell you all sorts of stories as you swore you've never gotten so drunk to the point where you couldn't think anymore.

"It's really no big deal for me," he pressed on, opening the back door of the club with his right arm as his left stayed firm around your waist.

"N-No just....just get me back in there to the first table—"

"Y/N your friends are drunk off their minds, they're not taking you home in that state," he laughed shortly, dragging you to his black Mercedes that stood alone in the private parking lot.

"Then call me a cab!" You whine, pouting slightly before the back car door swung open and he was pushing you in.

"W-What are you—"

Your words were stuck in your throat as you watched in confusion as he got in next to you before shutting the door.

"A-Aren't you going to d-drive," you stutter out nervously as he smiled lopsidedly before dragging you onto his lap, your soft thighs on either side of him.

"I will take you home sweetheart don't worry, just want to have a look at you first, I've been dying to touch you," he groaned, hands feeling you up, groping and sliding across your heated skin as your vision doubled.

"You're so fucking pretty baby, and this excuse of a dress leaves nothing to the imagination hm?" He cooed, fingers hooking onto the straps of your short red dress as you shook your head weakly.

"W-What are you doing?" You hiccup, smiling for no reason as you felt the alcohol thrum through your body, taking over your better judgment and control.

"What am I doing? I'm just finally getting to have my hands on you baby, so im feeling you up," he whispered near your ear before a deep chuckle left his lips as you began trying to free yourself from his hold.

"This isn't right—"

"Of course this is right, just stay quiet for me, okay? You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," he groaned, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his hands on your thigh slowly rolled your dress up until it was bunched up against your waist, your covered pussy coming into his view.

Seungcheol had to hold back a growl, shutting his eyes tightly in a way for him to suppress the carnal thoughts from taking over, he wanted nothing more than to take you right there and then... but he knew he had to wait, this is merely just him getting a taste to suppress his hunger for now.

You leaned your back against the front seat, eyes trying its hardest to fight the tiredness and haziness seeping in from the drugs Seungcheol made the bartender crush into your many cocktails earlier.

"Do you always wear cute pink panties like these baby? Or did you somehow know I'd play with you tonight?" He whispered, fingers ghosting along the inner skin of your thighs as you squirmed in his hold.

"Fuck baby your skin is so so soft."

His fingers were hooking onto the thin straps of your dress before slowly pulling them down, his dark and unwavering eyes glued to your chest as you shook your head feverently.

"N-No not here we're in p-public," you manage to breathe out, before he was stopping abruptly.

"Oh so you wanna go back to your apartment and continue this?" He asked in bewilderment as you were quick to say no.

"My windows are tinted baby relax, no one outside can see how im defiling you," he whispered darkly, licking his lips as he continued to pull your straps down.

"Let's get your hands out of this hm?" He asked sweetly, hands already moving to pull your arms out of your dress as you could do nothing but watch with a misty vision.

You felt odd, like all the energy had been ripped away from you and all you could do was sit there on his lap completely dazed.

"Fuck," Seungcheol breathed out, eyes dark and heavy as they gazed upon your frame, your dress now fully bunched together at your hip as you were now just left in your bra and panties.

"You're being such a good girl for me.... just how I like it," he whispered into your ear as his hand smoothed down your stomach before cupping your covered pussy.

A soft sigh left your lips even as you shook your head, hands fisting at the material of his black blazer.

"N-No," you manage to weakly say, as Seungcheol began rubbing slowly circles into you.

"No? You don't think you're a good girl?" He questioned, thick fingers sliding up and under the waistband of your panties before making straight contact to your pussy lips.

"N-No this isn't right," you mewl, your words betraying you as you felt your pussy gush with wetness.

"Just sit here and let me feel you, understand?.... Don't think your that upset over this considering your fucking dripping anyways," he chuckled, slightly dropping the sweetness he was treating you with as he increased the speed of his fingers rubbing you while his other hand stayed firm against your hip.

"B-But—"

Your words were caught in your throat, your mouth hanging open in a scream instead as he roughly pushed in two of his fingers in your unprepped hole.

"But nothing. Another word from you and I'll have to use my tie as a gag, you want that?" He asked, his tone menacing as he leaned closer to your face.

You shook your head instantly, tears forming in your eyes at the sudden intrusion of his fingers as he slowly began thrusting them in and out of your tight hole.

"Now.... I have questions I'd like answers to baby, will you answer me truthfully?"

"Y-Yeah," you manage to slur out, vision doubling as his hand on your hip slowly trailed up to your covered breasts before dipping under the material to cup your warm mound.

"Good....lets start with this, you don't have a boyfriend back in Iksan right? And no crushes or foolish boys at your feet?" He asked, fingers pulling at your taut nipple as you gasped softly.

"N-No no," your quick to say as his fingers stilled inside your pussy, knuckle deep as you clenched down on him.

"Hm that's good to know baby, didn't really wanna have to kill anyone right now.." he trailed off with a chuckle, before suddenly pulling you closer to his face with his grip on your neck.

"Although something tells me you're not as pure as you look, have you had sex before sweetheart?"

His questions along with the way he was answering sent shivers down your spine, but his dark gaze fixed on yours almost compelled you to answer truthfully, scared to find out what he'd do if you didn't answer him.

kinda like how you felt with that Joshua guy, but just somehow worse.

"Y-Yes with my ex.... it's been... it's been o-over a year," you manage to squeak out, watching in almost fear as Seungcheol's face instantly dropped, thick fingers slipping out of you.

"Ah, you just really pissed me off baby, it's just a shame someone's already tainted you before I got the chance to... no matter though if it's been that long.... it just means you're practically a virgin all over again just for me, hm?"

He sounded almost delirious, wet fingers coming up to grip your jaw tightly as you winced, trying to form sentences to ask him what he meant before he was speaking again.

"Did you like it, baby? Did he make you feel good?" He questioned again, eyes narrowing on you as you slightly nodded.

A cry instantly left your lips as his fingernails dug into your jaw, his teeth gritting as he bought his face closer to yours until you could feel his warm breath fanning across your cold skin.

"Wrong answer. Do you still have contact with him?"

"N-No I wouldn't he... he cheated, r-rubbed it in my face," you stumble upon your words, as Seungcheol instantly laughs.

"Oh your poor thing," he tuts, letting go off your jaw as both his hands smoothed down your body before resting on your hips.

"Don't worry baby, when we properly get to know each other and you tell me the whole story, I'll kill that bastard for you, how does that sound? You want me to kill him for what he's done to you baby?" He asked almost sweetly, as you shook your head almost instantly.

"N-No he...I don't care," you struggle out, shifting on his lap uncomfortably as your head began throbbing in pain.

Seungcheol watched your every movement with dark unwavering eyes, taking note that the strong drug was beginning to settle in and that you'd fall unconscious any moment now.

"Mmh.... you're about to fall asleep soon sweetheart, but don't worry, I'll come see you soon okay? You'll meet a different version of me though, can't scare you away so quickly, Shua did mention you were pretty shy," he chuckled, but you barely managed to catch a sentence of what he said, your headache only getting worse as a soft groan left your lips before you were falling forward to lean your head against his shoulder.

"Okay this is acting faster than I thought, let's get you home."

Seungcheol pulled you off his lap and carefully placed you down on the seat before fixing up your dress, inhaling sharply in an effort to ignore how salvageable you looked to him even if you were about to fall unconscious.

next time he had you like this, he wouldn't stop his lascivious thoughts from taking over.

"Last question baby, what's your apartment code? I'll need to get in to lay you down," he asked, tapping your cheek lightly to wake you up.

You mumble out some numbers he manages to catch, before you were falling into a deep slumber.

Seungcheol sighed as he started the car, pulling out of the driveway as he thought of his next few planned steps.

He didn't want to rush it with you, there was no need of it, he had you and no one would dare touch you.... and you couldn't even try to escape regardless.

A red light had him pulling the car to a stop, before calling Joshua.

"Hey man, I'm guessing she's fast asleep if you've called?"

"Mhm, got her to tell me her apartment code, I'll put her to bed and have a look around before setting up a camera. I need you to keep an eye on everyone that she's close to, see if it's for sure that no one would get too curious if she went missing.... ah, and I found out about an ex, but we'll worry about that later once I have more information."

"Got it. She's fucking gorgeous up close isn't she? I know she's all yours man but fucking hell she's a gem," Joshua groaned, as Seungcheol could only smile as he thought back to how responsive you were.

"Hmm.... but even with drugs in her system she was still a pain, I think she'll be much more difficult than I thought," Seungcheol answered, tapping his fingers against the wheel as he looked at your sleeping form through the mirror.

"Wait you fucked her?! Bro you said you'd wait—"

"No I didn't you fucking idiot now stop talking about her. I just called to let you know I might end up being a little late for the group meeting, but don't wait up and start without me."

Seungcheol ended the call as he saw your apartment building come into view, a smile making its way onto his face as he thought about how smoothly everything was going, and tomorrow morning you would wake up with a severe migraine and no recollection of what happened the night before.

Everything was going according to plan.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

boob obsessed ethan!!

I have very few smut requests for Scream characters and I'm in that mood to write that... Please send more for Ethan and Billy (I can do Billy x reader x Stu too)

Warnings: 18+, boobs touching/sucking, Ethan being obsessed

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

It all started clicking one night you and Ethan were studying for finals. He was having difficulty concentrating, easily distracted by flipping his pen or even whistling, so you decided to give him a little bit of motivation.

‘’If you get five answers right, I’ll show you my boobs.’’ 

Automatically, Ethan’s eyes lowered to your boobs — still covered by your shirt — and bit the inside of his mouth to not moan. 

‘’And if you get ten right,’’ you added, ‘’I’ll let you touch them.’’ 

His jaw almost dropped. There was no way you were being serious. No one ever made deals like that and honored their part of the deal — except in his late night fantasies.

‘’Y-you’re playing,’’ Ethan said, shifting on the bed, feeling himself harden just at the thought of your breasts.

You chuckled, shaking your head. ‘’I’m not. You helped me when I was struggling last semester, now it’s my turn to help you. Do we have a deal?’’ 

Seventeen minutes later, you put the pile of flashcards down and Ethan held his breath, knowing what was coming. He got five answers right. It was an understatement to say he was nervous, however he was also so excited — very excited. 

You grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off, then unclasped your bra, nipples hardening from the cool air of the dorm. 

Watched intently, Ethan let out a strangled moan, his eyes wide with wonder and staring directly at your chest. ‘’Holy fuck, those tits are so nice. Way better than what I imagined through your shirt,’’ he said, his blunt honesty making you laugh. ‘’Shit. Did I say that out loud?’’ His face flushed, embarrassed at himself. He really wanted to crawl into a hole and die right here.

‘’You did,’’ you confirmed. You gave Ethan a soft smile, pulling him out of his trance by placing your hand on his kneecap. ‘’Let’s not get distracted. If you want to touch, you gotta give me five more good answers. Remember?’’ 

Ethan nodded, shifting again to cover the slight tent in his pants. Controlling that part of his body was impossible. He took a deep breath and you hit him with the next question. 

It was harder to concentrate this time, his eyes dropping back to your chest every three seconds, but he did it, successfully correctly answering five more flashcards.  

‘’Can I touch them, now?’’ he asked shyly, his fingers tingling with excitement. 

‘’Go for it.’’ 

That's exactly what he did. Ethan placed both of his hands over your boobs, covering them with his palms and splayed fingers like a kid discovering something for the first time. He squished them both, his fingers sinking into the softness of your breasts. 

Ethan could feel his cock twitch slightly in his pants as he continued to feel you. ‘’Oh my god. Oh wow,’’ he said, breathing heavily. His finger tweaked your nipple, experimentally pinching at it and rolling it between his fingers, drawing out a soft gasp from you when he used more pressure than you were expecting. ‘’I could cum just from touching them—’’

‘’Ethan!’’ you gasped, shocked by his words. 

His eyes snapped up and he mumbled apologies, but you just laughed.

—

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[fordaryl]

REMEMBER.

minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.

It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.

Safety lets you forget.

And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.

"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.

It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.

You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.

One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.

One is fine. You can handle one.

Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.

You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.

Locking it is another story.

You have no hope of accomplishing that.

Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.

Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.

They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.

Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.

You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.

“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”

Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.

"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.

You hold your breath.

"Well check it out then!" another demands.

Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.

You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.

"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."

You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.

Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.

"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."

Then a bright light blinds you.

"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"

There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.

"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.

You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.

You just had to stay alive.

"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.

You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.

"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."

They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.

Five. You count five. If you kill two...

"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.

The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.

The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.

"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.

"But—"

"Now."

His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.

Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."

You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...

The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."

There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.

But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?

You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...

Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.

You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.

The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.

Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.

You were nothing. Prey.

The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.

The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.

But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.

He'd been waiting for you.

You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.

Then his eyes are on you.

Then his hands.

Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.

You nod.

"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"

—————

The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.

His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.

"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"

You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.

He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.

"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"

"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."

His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.

"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.

"You."

"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"

You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."

His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.

Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.

He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.

Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.

"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.

You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.

Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...

Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.

Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.

This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.

He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.

You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.

"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."

His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.

Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.

Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.

You nod weakly in response.

His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.

He's got you.

His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"

One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.

"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."

It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.

Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.

"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."

His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."

He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."

[goldenstring6123]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNXxJ8TM/

THIS IS SO CUTE PLS I CAN SO CLEARLY SEE THE LADS MEN DOING THIS 😭 and the comment section had me dying where is evb finding these MEN 😔🙏

Lnds: Sleepy time!

Warning: No warnings, afab!reader, fem!reader

Authors note: Fluff (not a lot of it) and a bit of domestic stuff.

Sylus:

It had been 30 minutes since you left the bedroom. Sylus was already well on his side of the mattress, reading the news while waiting for you to come back. He thought you were just up and about doing your normal routine of drinking herbal tea and doing skincare, but it was taking you far longer than usual.

He settled the tablet down on the nightstand and walked out of the bedroom. He searched for you in every room he passed by, and when he arrived at the guest bedroom at the end of the hall, there you were, perfectly tucked in under the unused duvet.

You were curled into a ball and too engrossed in the video you were watching; you didn't even notice the black fuzzy threads wrapping around your weird curled-up position. You lifted off from the bed, and when you came to, the view was of Sylus' back as you involuntarily made your way back to his bedroom.

"So you're not going to put me down?" you asked, paying attention to the video again. "Are manners not a thing anymore?"

The brooding man didn't spare you a glance. "I'm not open for discussion. You're supposed to sleep in my bedroom. Our bedroom."

"I just wanted a bed all to myself," you uttered. Here you were, planning what to watch and what to eat for the whole night, and this guy managed to foil it.

"I don't share the same sentiment, sweetie. You have the bed every time I'm overseas on a work trip. It's even infested with your colorful pillows," he opened the door to the bedroom and reeled you in, gesturing to your side of the bed which had vibrant pillows and bed 'pets,' as you like to refer to them.

"You really can't sleep without me, can you, Mr. Big guy? Afraid that someone's under the bed or something?"

"I'm more afraid that you're going to ravage my food pantry when you're not in my line of sight."

"The guest bedroom is nowhere near the pantry and I don't ravage it—I simply take a few snacks," you clarified. "Greg would be sad if the food spoils."

"Either way, you sleep in my bedroom or my couch, nowhere else, sweetie."

"Admit it: You like my company, don't you?" You gave him a cheeky grin.

"Yes, yes," Sylus agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You make a good meat shield when we get attacked in this bedroom."

"Oh wow. Reduced to a shield." You rolled your eyes in return and slipped under the covers. "That's Onychinus' leader for you."

"Right. Are you done now? I still have an early schedule for tomorrow."

"Alright, alright. I'm heading to bed now. You can sleep."

"Good. Now come here." Sylus opened his arms and you found yourself huddled right into it like it was the perfect mold. You shifted a bit and could feel his muscles relax against your back.

"Why did you feel the need to sleep in the guest room tonight?" Sylus asked under his breath.

"I was planning on reading comics all night. Tara recommended a new romance comic which I like, but knowing you, you'd probably take my phone away."

"Then it looks like I will be the bad guy tonight."

"Maybe. Until you fall asleep." You shrugged.

You hear the handcuffs being pulled out.

Shit.

Xavier:

3:02 AM, it says on the clock. You weren't on the bed. It was cold and it was proof that you never went on it, which was odd considering you told sleepy little Xavier that you were going to stay over. Poor little tired hunter was exhausted after a day's work and couldn't help but doze off while watching you do your little night ritual of moisturizing and doing a facemask.

Xavier sat on the side of the bed, letting out a big yawn. He didn't know where you were, but all he knew was that he didn't like being alone. From his palm, a faint whirlpool of light emanated, enough to guide him through his dark abode. His first thought was maybe you were watching in the living room. You weren't there. He then headed to the small bedroom right beside his, a spare one for guests, but it went unused when you both shared the same bed now.

He tried his best to quietly open the door. There he saw a little bump on the mattress and it made his heart squeeze; you were adorable and looked so small. Xavier tiptoed and folded the blanket away from you. He took a deep breath and lifted you up bridal style, pressing you against his chest.

"hm?…Xavier?" you slurred, vision dark and blurry.

"I'm moving you to our bedroom," he kissed the top of your head and continued his journey to the other room.

"You were sleeping," you paused, looking for the word. The drowsiness didn't seem to go away. "didn't want to…disturb you."

Xavier wanted to say something, but he and you both arrived at the side of the bed. He gently laid you down and placed a pillow between your limbs, which you automatically hugged. Xavier crawled to his side of the bed and yanked the cover over the both of you. Though you both weren't exactly touching, the little hunter's heart eased at your presence.

Gladly, he went back to sleep, hoping to maybe see you in his dreams.

Zayne:

Zayne's house was far too quiet when he arrived. It was only 7 o'clock, and by then you'd usually be in the kitchen, peeking your head out with a ladle in hand. There was no "welcome back" nor a simple "hello," but what did he expect? You were mad at him.

It's a shallow fight, really. Zayne decided to put you on alcohol time-out and took your hidden beers that you were so ready to drink after a grueling day at work. Zayne's judgment was far better than yours because when you get drunk beyond mental capacity, you tend to make a mess of the house, and you turn into a rage-filled, feisty lady. Moreover, you'd been chain-drinking for the whole week, and Zayne was getting concerned because you kept having hangovers.

His hands twisted on the knob to the little library of his house, where he would always find you on nights like these. There you were, curled in the lazy boy sofa and turned away from him. You were awake, but you didn't want to look at your lover.

"I'm home," Zayne declared.

"Dinner's in the fridge. Heat it up," you responded and closed your eyes. Zayne's footsteps grew closer and closer to you, and you felt his palm land on your shoulder.

"Your back will hurt if you sleep in that position."

The sofa might look soft and admittedly it's pretty comfortable to sit on for a long period of time, but with the curled-up position you have, it was bound to hurt when you fall asleep.

"I'm perfectly fine," you replied.

"Don't be stubborn." Zayne decided to pick you up. You wanted to thrash and get out of his grasp, but then you would look childish.

"I don't want to be with you tonight."

Zayne kept his lips in a thin line. He's more than aware that you're saying that because you're mad, but still—It hurts to hear it from you.

Gently, Zayne settled you in the middle of the bed. "I'll sleep in the living room. Stay here," he whispered and tucked the blanket over your shoulders. It was dark in the bedroom, so you couldn't exactly see him. You rolled over to face away from your lover and patiently waited for him to leave.

1:34 AM. You couldn't sleep. A can of beer would do you some good, but your tongue wasn't craving the bitterness of it. Instead, your mind looped over to a few hours ago when you said something that you didn't mean. It was harsh now that you think about it.

Now Zayne is keeping his distance from you. The owner of the house is sleeping on the couch.

With two pillows and a blanket in hand, you made your way down the flight of mahogany stairs. The living room was in full view, and Zayne was fast asleep on the couch. You nudged the two ottomans to the space between the coffee table and the main sofa. Then you threw the pillows and spread the blanket wide, letting it flutter down while you made yourself fit on the ottoman chairs.

You left a few spaces between you and Zayne, one that was filled by the cold pillow.

2:46 AM. Zayne stirred awake and found a blanket draped over his body. Beside him was his supposedly angry lover, clutching the hem of his shirt. He stared up into the chandelier above and took the pillow that was bordering between them, used it as his own, and pulled you closer, nudging the blanket over both of you even more.

Rafayel:

He's standing by the doorway, tapping his foot while a plushie was tucked under his armpit. He was frowning, and you could even see it through the dark.

"What?" you asked, shining the phone his way.

"So you're going to leave me alone tonight? Is that how you're going to play?" He was mad-mad, but that's why you were confused.

"Hey, drama king—you were complaining earlier in the day about my bad sleeping habits—I'm giving you the bed now so you can be at ease, but now you're mad at me again. Do you want me to sleep on the floor of your bedroom or something?"

"Duh? Of course not. I'm just complaining because it's true, but I never said you should sleep in the guest room."

"Then are you going to be alright with my sleeping habits?"

"No."

"Then sleep alone."

An audible gasp could be seen on the expression of the Lemurian. He looked so offended with the end of the conversation, but you weren't having it, so you plopped back onto the bed and hid under the covers, hoping that he'd go away.

The moment you peeked back out, you were rapidly crushed under heavy weight, making you sink to the bottom of the bed. Rafayel lay spread out on top of you, keeping you in your position and crushing you underneath him.

"Get off me! You're heavy!" You struggled underneath the blanket, nudging him and kicking him, but he pretended to be a dead body floating in the water. Rafayel kept still; if verbal convincing won't work, then he'll have to make you change your mind.

"Fine! Fine! I'll sleep with you!" you screamed. He rolled to the side, propped his elbows up, and rested his head on his palm. You just wanted to rub that triumphant grin off his face. He happily scooted underneath the blankets and hogged your side of the bed, wrapping his hand around you and shutting his eyes.

You didn't want to make a big deal of it further and decided to head to bed as well.

You were stirred awake by a strain in your neck. The lids of your eyes lifted at the electrifying pain that traveled to your head. You squinted, barely able to process the faint blue outside the window. Your body was spread out again, and nearby you could see Rafayel making use of the awkward space he was left with.

Guilt washed over your tired body.

Without much thought left, you held onto two pillows and let your body slip down to the carpeted floor. You hugged the pillow and placed another one under your head, liking the furry texture that brushed the side of your bare arms and legs. You closed your eyes again and let the tiredness wash over you.

It was cold for a summer morning. A large yawn escaped your lips and you patiently waited for your eyes to focus, and when they did, your eyes widened immediately at the beautiful sight of a sleeping Lemurian. Rafayel, too, was now on the floor, using his own arm as a pillow.

You tapped on his shoulder, and he just pulled you down back to the floor. "Five more minutes," he groaned, burying his face in your collar. Luckily, it was a Saturday, and you didn't have to go to work. You could indulge him in the meantime.

Author's footnotes: lol the tiktok was very cute, something that you'd see in a rom-com enemies to lovers sort of romance story. It would be a pretty redundant snippet if every situation is the same for the love interest so I took the liberty of changing things a bit.

Layout by me, using Canva Premium | Do not repost

[nonranghaes]

heads up: reader wears glasses and can't see SHIT.

joshua prides himself on being a gentleman to you. he's always been respectful of your boundaries, he's careful with his words when he knows you're having a rough time, and he always walks you to your door after every date just to make sure you get inside safely. he's a gentleman, even though you've heard his witty comments and seen how playful he can be... and heard from his friends about the pranks he's pulled on them. a gentleman with a sense of humor, you'll say.

so when he pulls out the chair next to you while you're doing graduate school work, already smiling like he has a plan, you don't know what to expect. you glance up at him over the rims of your glasses, giving him a little smile and a 'hey,' before you go back to your work.

"may i?"

again, you look up, curious of the vague request. he reaches forward, fingers careful as they come to the sides of your glasses. he's just as careful when he slowly pulls them off, mindful to not accidentally poke you in the eye in the process before he turns them around and puts them on. "how do i--"

and then he stops. he squints at you. you fight back a smile as you watch him, eternally thankful that he's sitting close enough that you can see the horror on his face (albeit a little blurry--there's a reason why you have to hold things so close to your face if you misplace your glasses, after all).

"oh my god," his voice is softer now, and he blinks at you a few times, "how do you see anything?"

you close your textbook. you can finish these notes later: you wouldn't have invited him to join you if you couldn't. "well," you rest your head in your hand, "i wear glasses for that."

joshua doesn't take them off yet. he slides them down his nose a little so that he can look at you, and he's a little too cute when he does it. "yeah," he's smiling, a tinge of laughter coloring his voice, "you look cute in them." he licks his lips a little as he quickly debates whether he should go through with the initial plan. "... do i?"

"eh." you don't bother fighting back your smile. "they're not your style."

"what, so i'm not a sexy librarian?" he grins as he leans in, his fingers under your chin to draw you in a little, "or, i don't know--a hot professor? i think i could pull it off."

you just close the distance between the two of you for a quick kiss. "ask me when i can actually see you again."

the mischievous glint in his eye tells you that he absolutely will. but he keeps your glasses for a moment longer, just long enough to take a picture with you. you pretend not to notice when it becomes his new lockscreen later.

[bbokicidal]

Ooh, it's a bad habit. | SKZ [OT8]

synopsis: "Bad" habits the boys have in relationships + in general.

Genre: Fluff I guess? Pairing: OT8 x GN!Reader Warnings: Mentions of arguing but nothing depicted Notes: I just enjoy making these types of posts and I'm feeling inspired at 5 AM (YET AGAIN) so enjoy!~

Chan:

Does not answer text messages. Opens it, reads it, gets distracted, does not come back to it until either eight hours later or until you double text him. Hit his ass with the "????" and he'll apologize but otherwise he'll just "oh."

Leaves his little snack wrappers on the kitchen counters. If you don't get to them first, he'll clean them up when he goes into the kitchen next. He just forgets about it in the moment; Man likes his snackies.

Bites the skin around his nails so his cuticles are Lowkey HORRIBLE but if you get him on a cuticle oil that smells nice, he's gonna be like a bitch with a new lipgloss applying that shit every ten minutes.

Hums a lot. Not a bad habit but not the nicest when you're on a phone call and you can hear him humming next to you.

Cannot control his face. Even grows a habit of making certain faces at you when you're either arguing or talking about something he's uncertain about. It annoys you to no end and he tries to stop but fails every time.

Lino:

Doesn't answer, period. You can talk to him for almost five minutes about a subject and he won't hear a single thing because he's on his phone. Selective hearing, apparently.

Will not do something if he does not want to - which can be good, obviously he shouldn't do something if he doesn't feel like it - but when you've made plans and he doesn't want to go last minute it can be really frustrating. He's also incredibly stubborn when it comes to this, too.

Very irritable most of the time, especially after he's just woken up. He will snap if you pester him too much about something but at this point you've grown to understand it's just how he is. He never says anything mean, he never yells, it's just a light raise of his voice and something along the lines of, "Yes, okay! I'll get to it when I get to it!"

Glances at his watch way too fucking much. Man is constantly keeping track of the time - which leads to him complaining that he looked at his watch earlier and it said 4:50, looked at his watch two seconds ago and now it says 4:51.

Doesn't like being at events longer than he's supposed to be. If y'all have dinner with the group and he was ready to go home forty minutes ago, he's going to be pouting and rolling his eyes those entire forty minutes.

Changbin:

Talks with his mouth full. It's cute, because his cheeks pudge out and his lips are all pursed and pouty - but he does it a lot. Especially if someone argues with him while he's eating, he's gonna be pointing and yelling back and food's gonna be flying.

Not a bad habit but purses his lips and expects kisses from you. You know what it means now and always kiss him when you see him do it but at the beginning of your relationship it confused the hell out of you. Why was he making duck lips at you?

Crosses and uncrosses his legs like no other. Sometimes the man cannot sit still in his seat and the moment you notice it, it Lowkey drives you insane. But he also can't cross his legs at his thighs because they're thicker than Hell AND he's got a third leg in the middle so he's always just crossing his ankles and kicking his feet out.

Sitting forward/slouching. Changbin. Cannot. Sit. Up. Straight. ^ Going off the prompt above, he's literally always sitting forward with his elbows on his knees or sitting back in his seat and leaning. It's not horrible but sometimes if he's in interviews or going to award shows you have to remind him to sit up.

Toys with things that are sitting in front of him. He needs stimulation with his hands so if he's got his phone, he's turning it over in his hands; If he's sitting in front of a candle, he's waving his finger over the open flame like an idiot.

Hyunjin:

Picks at his nail polish. He always does the cutest designs and he knows you love when he paints his nails but five seconds later he's either biting at them when he gets anxious or he's picking at the polish until it chips off. He never gets good photos, either.

Chews on his drawing pencils, which is why he's always buying new art supplies. Luckily he gets gifted drawing utensils from a lot of brands he works with on Holidays and his birthday - but a lot of his pencils go to shit because he gnaws on them while he's thinking about his art piece.

Checks his phone a lot. He wants to see if he has messages from you so he's always peeking at his notifications in eager waiting, but if he's with you he's also checking his group chat notifications from he boys. It's not bad, but gets annoying on dates.

Leaves his clothes everywhere. His room is always messy with little piles of clothes and when you move in together, your shared room becomes the same way. He gets better about it when you get on his ass but up until then he's just throwing his shit everywhere.

Twirls his hair around his fingers. Not a bad habit but funny when you pick up on it. He's doing it all the time when he's listening in on conversations, and while he does it he's pursing his lips. Just a drama queen judging other drama queens.

Jisung:

Talks with his hands. He gets real flappy when he's arguing and bickering with people, and he's come real close to hitting you a few times when he stands up from the couch to argue with Hyunjin on the other end. He always apologizes but it'll never stop.

Rubs his eyes a lot, which you have to remind him is bad for 1) his skin, and 2) the company will yell at him. He's gotten better when he's wearing makeup because he doesn't want to mess it up but when he's at home he's always rubbing his face.

Stuttering/Stammering. Especially if you're bickering or you catch him off guard, he cannot get a damn comment out to save his life. He'll try, say the word four times wrong, and then stop to think and then completely lose the thought altogether.

Constantly apologizing. The man is apologizing for everything under the Sun; Being behind you when you move away from the fridge, bumping into you while you do laundry, saying sorry for cutting you off while talking. Most of the things are no big deals and it can get a little frustrating, but it's also a tad endearing.

His eyebrows do not have an off switch. They are always moving. He speaks with his hands, his mouth, and his eyebrows. Which ties into him, most of the time, not being able to control his expressions. Not that he wants to.

Felix:

Messy eating. Man needs like eight napkins when he's eating chicken wings, he fuckin' flies through them like crazy. He's the type that's got sauce all over his fingers, his mouth, staining his chin. He can't help it though and it is kind of cute. Just don't let him near too many finger foods.

Touches his hair all too much. Sometimes he complains his hair looks greasy or messed up and you have to remind him that every five minutes he's pushing it back with his hands - which is why it grows oily so fast. Always pushing it behind his ears, pulling it down over his forehead, touching the ends behind his neck.

Swears like a sailor. Bro has the biggest potty mouth in the group and cannot control it when he gets angry. Most used words are: Wank, Fuck, Shit, and Asshole.

Claps at everything. Not in the verbal way; He actually claps. He claps when he laughs, he claps when someone does something successfully, he claps when he's tired and ready to go to bed. Has a habit of clapping once before he starts talking, usually a "*clap* Alright, well -"

Winks. Wink, wink. Always winking at people. Not strangers, though - Just you and the guys, and on occasion a security guard escorting him through the airport. An eternal flirt who cannot help himself. A natural charmer.

Seungmin:

Rubs the tip of his index finger against the side of his thumb and subsequently gains a callus from it because he can't fucking stop. It doesn't really matter nor does it effect his daily life but it's a little annoying when he's playing guitar. But it also.. kind of.. helps.

Speaking of ^ Brings his guitar everywhere he can. If he is going somewhere and knows he'll have free time to practice or play, he's bringing it with even if it's taking up space in the car and people are tripping over it. That thing goes with him everywhere.

Has a very bad habit of standing and staring - except it's less staring and more glaring. He's not doing it on purpose, nor is he always mad - He just had a perfect RBF and can't help it. But he's always tipping his head down, his eyes are always dark, he's never smiling unless he's actively like - trying. He's just kind of scary. Scary guard dog.

Taps his foot a lot. Not annoying, not a hinderance - just a habit that ends up making his ankle and the top of his foot hurt because he is constantly doing it. It becomes a game though if you pick up on it - He'll tap his foot to a rhythm and you have to guess the song, which is a lot harder than you expect.

Sniffs. Sniffles. Sniffing everything. One of those people who, if he opens something new, sniffs it immediately - even if it isn't food or something that will smell good. Sniffs it anyways.

Jeongin:

Twists the rings he wears around his fingers. Most of them are higher quality and from fancy ass brands so it doesn't matter, but every once in a while he gets a slightly shittier ring and when he twists it, it turns his finger green. And then he ends up pouting while he tries to wash the stain out of his skin.

Constantly licking his lips but not in the way you're thinking. He does this thing specifically where he pushes the tip of his tongue into the corner of his lips while they're parted and then caresses it. With his tongue. He does it a lot and when you pick up on it, you stare every time he does it subconsciously because it is so sexy.

Pulls at his bottom lip when in heavier conversations. Not even heavy topics - just intense or interesting convos. They could be talking about aliens and if he's in deep and thinking about conspiracies and shit, he'll pulling at the skin of his lip. More of a thinking habit than anything but he ends up using tons of chapstick afterwards.

Sticks his tongue out when he gets scolded or complimented. Anytime a comment is directed at him, he sticks his tongue out briefly before smiling. It's more of a teasing habit because it riles the other members up and flusters you - so. He gets away with it.

Pulls childish moves during arguments; Pouts when you're angry with him for something, rolls hie eyes when he's frustrated, puffs his cheeks out when he's thinking of how to retaliate. And absolutely says "Ooh you wanna kiss me so bad!!" when the two of you are bickering.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix @hwangjoanna

[prythiansprincess]

best friend's brother! tom finally gets you alone

NAVIGATION // home. tag. moodboard. more.

author's note: the demons...they're getting loud again. i'm actually so feral for possessive and obsessive tom. I fear I might make this my whole personality now.

obsession. 

tom riddle was, in every sense of the word, obsessive. the fixation and compulsion he poured into the things he loved had always been a marker of his character. tom was not the type of person to casually partake in something; for the eldest riddle brother, the best things in life were worth being consumed by. 

and he was. 

utterly and irrevocably consumed by you. 

y/n, mattheo’s sweet and innocent best friend. the one whose pretty eyes and lovely smile haunted his every waking moment. the one whose honeyed voice played in his head like a melody and enticed him like a siren’s song. the one whose gentle touch sent his heart racing until he felt as though the damned thing was going to burst out of his bloody chest. 

you had no idea what you did to him, but you would soon enough because tom had a plan. for weeks, he had been plotting and scheming. trying to find the right time to finally get you all to himself. 

fortunately for him, the opportunity arose one fateful evening when mattheo left his phone unattended in the living room. it was so easy, almost too easy, to guess his brother’s password and open up his most recent text thread with you. 

mattheo: come over tonight? 

tom watched as three dots appeared on the screen, indicating that you were currently typing a response. 

y/n: will tom be there?

now that was interesting. perhaps you were asking because you wanted him to be there. wanted him as much as he wanted you. 

mattheo: yes. why do you ask?

y/n: I just don't want to be a bother. I know tom likes to study on tuesdays and me coming over would probably disrupt that.

tom couldn’t help but smile. such a thoughtful, caring girl. he couldn’t wait to ruin you. 

mattheo: tom will be fine. so, are you in or not?  i'll grab your favorite snacks. 

y/n: you had me at snacks.

half an hour later, you were standing in the doorway of the riddle home, dressed in one of those pretty little dresses that tom had imagined ripping off of your body a million times. as the door swung open, those innocent eyes widened at the sight of him. you flushed when tom met your gaze, a light pink hue dusting your cheeks. 

"oh. hi, tom. um, is mattheo here? he asked me to come over." 

tom casually leaned against the frame, giving you a once over that only deepened your flush. "my brother just stepped out, but he should be back soon." 

"o—okay. he's probably out getting snacks." 

tom watched as you lingered in the doorway, anxiously fidgeting with the hem of your dress. he thought it was adorable that you were still nervous around him after all this time. biting back a smile, tom opened the door to his home a little wider. 

"are you coming in?" 

“hm?” you asked absentmindedly. “oh. yeah. yes, i’m coming. not like that. I mean, obviously. shit. ignore me please.” 

tom raised a brow, but said nothing as he barely gave you enough of a gap to squeeze through the door. he smirked to himself as you maneuvered your way inside, perky breasts brushing against his solid chest. tom could smell the sweet scent of your strawberry shampoo as you passed through. he wanted to drown himself in it. you timidly avoided his gaze, choosing instead to follow him into the kitchen in silence.

“would you like something to drink?” 

you nodded. “yes, please, i’ll take a —”

before you could finish your sentence, tom handed you a cold can of vanilla cherry soda. your favorite. you thanked him with a shy smile before following him upstairs. instinctively, you turned in the direction of mattheo’s room, but tom gripped your wrist and kept you in place. 

“you can wait in my room if you’d like. mattheo might be a while. he reeked of weed when he left."

you chuckled. “it does take matty forever to pick out snacks when he’s high.” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other before glancing up at tom through your lashes. “are you sure you don’t mind? I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“i’m sure,” tom confirmed. “I could use the company.” 

with that, you followed tom into his room. unlike mattheo’s, tom’s room was neat and organized. everything was perfect and pristine, much like the man standing before you. tom busied himself by putting away the books and notes on his desk while you fiddled with your fingers, not quite knowing what to do with yourself. 

“sit on the bed,” tom commanded. “make yourself comfortable.” 

“okay.” you replied in a small, breathy voice. 

carefully, you settled at the edge of his bed and crossed your legs. you drummed your fingers against your thigh, pondering how strange this situation was. in all your years of knowing tom, you had never once set foot in his room. at most, you caught glimpses of it when you passed by on your way to mattheo’s room. 

everything was so foreign and interesting. that was the desk where tom does all his studying. that was the closet where he keeps all of his clothes. that was the night stand where he places his glasses on before he goes to sleep. 

that was the bed that he laid in every night. your mind started to wander through all the things that tom had done in this bed. maybe by himself. maybe with someone else. the intrusive thoughts fired off one by one, leaving you flustered. does he soak the sheets when he gets himself off? does he tie his partners to the bed post when he eats them out? does he push their faces into the pillows as he rails them from behind? 

you were so engrossed in your dirty and filthy fantasies that you nearly jumped out of your skin when tom rested a hand on your thigh. 

“hm,” tom hummed. “you’re so jumpy, love.” 

you held your breath as he leaned closer, his face mere inches away from yours. the tension between you ebbed before he carefully took the soda can in your hand and placed it neatly on his nightstand. tom smirked when he noticed the hitch in your breath at his close proximity.

“do I make you nervous, doll?” 

“yes,” you answered truthfully. there was no point in lying. it was written all over your face. “you’re just so…intimidating.” 

“am I?” tom drawled as he slid in beside you, scooting in closer until his thigh was pressed against yours. even through his neatly pressed trousers, you could still feel the heat of his skin on yours. “maybe we just need to get to know each other better.” 

you bit your lip. “i’d like that, tom.” 

“good,” tom drawled. “let’s start with why you think you’d be a bother to me. mattheo told me you were hesitant to come over earlier.” 

you flushed as you stared at your shoes, the curtain of your hair shielding you from tom’s intense gaze. “I know you like your peace and quiet, which mattheo and I probably constantly interrupt. i’m sorry if we’re ever being annoying.” 

“you don’t have to worry about that. you could never bother me,” tom stated in a silky, flirty voice. “the only thing I find annoying is that you’re always with my brother. I just can’t seem to get you alone, can I?” 

you shivered as tom’s gaze flickered down to your lips. “well, we’re alone now.” 

“indeed we are.” you held your breath as tom leaned in closer, the bed dipping under his weight. “you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this. just you and me, without my brother to interrupt. I think about it all the time.” 

tom watched your pupils dilate, reacting to his admission. “what do you think about?” 

“I think about all the things I’d do to you. I think about the way you’d feel, the way you’d sound. if you’d scream or moan or whimper for me.” you shuddered at the sinful confession, rubbing your thighs together as heat rushed to your core. tom’s green gaze felt like a brand against your skin as a predatory look flashed through his handsome face. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.” 

before you could react, tom’s mouth was on yours. the kiss was neither soft nor gentle, but instead hungry and possessive. the magnitude of his desire took you by surprise. you had always thought that tom viewed you as nothing more than mattheo’s pesky friend, the one that came over unannounced and wreaked havoc in his life, but apparently you couldn’t have been more wrong. 

tom kissed you like a man starved. he poured all of himself into the action, tangling his fingers through your hair, yanking your head backwards so he could kiss you deeper. you could barely keep up with the way he was devouring you, his tongue dominating yours while you moaned softly into his mouth. 

a gasp escaped your lips as tom picked you up and placed you on his lap. you were dizzy with desire as you straddled him, whimpering when tom bucked his hips against yours which caused his erection to rub against your soaked core. never in a million years would you have imagined tom to be this dirty and filthy as he grabbed and groped and gorged himself on you. 

your breathy moans filled the room as tom slid his right hand underneath your dress and squeezed your thigh before palming you through your panties. you melted into his touch, moaning his name softly while he growled in response. as he slid the lace aside, tom kissed your neck and teased your slit with his fingers. 

“you’re soaked, doll.” tom said with a dark chuckle. “do I make you wet, hm?” 

“yes,” you breathed, eyes rolling back as tom spread your slick ever so slowly. 

he seemed to take this as encouragement, taking his time teasing you, rubbing your clit and spreading your folds until you were reduced to nothing but a whimpering mess. 

“tom, please…”

“so needy,” tom murmured. “what is it that you want, love?” 

“I want…” you bit your lip as tom stroked your pussy. “I want your fingers. I want them inside of me. please, tom.” 

“aw, doll, you sound so pretty when you beg,” tom cooed. “don’t worry, I couldn't resist you even if I tried.” 

without warning, tom plunged his fingers into your pussy. you groaned at the stretch, face heating from how vulgar the scene unfolding before you truly was. tom watched with rapt attention as you squirmed and panted, drinking in every little moan and whimper like a fine wine. his fingers felt like magic as they curled and scissored and flicked inside your walls. the other hand that wasn’t playing with your pussy rested on your hip, gripping tightly as you grinded against tom. 

“that’s it, doll. ride my fingers just like that.” 

tom was mesmerized at the sight of you using him to get yourself off. mattheo’s sweet and innocent best friend was no longer sweet and innocent as tom fingered and ruined you like the perfect little slut that you were. his perfect little slut.

“are you going to be a good girl and cum for me?” 

tears streamed down your cheeks as you rode tom’s fingers like your life depended on it. your mascara and lipstick were both smeared, but you didn’t care as you chased after your orgasm. you gave tom a weak nod, half out of your mind with pleasure. 

tom gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. “answer me, doll.” 

“y — yes. i’m going to…oh god, tom!” you writhed as tom rubbed your clit with the heel of his palm, pushing you over the edge. 

the glimmer in your eyes right before you came unleashed something within tom. the flushed cheeks and fluttering lashes; the parted lips and strained scream, it was enough to drive him insane. he wanted to see you make that face over and over again. 

“you look so pretty when you cum, doll.” tom murmured as he bit down on your neck, staking his claim on your skin. “you’re fucking exquisite.” 

amusement danced in his gaze as you shied away from the attention, cheeks flushed from the praise. tom locked eyes with you before sticking his fingers in his mouth and licking them clean in the most obscene and erotic way you had ever witnessed. 

“don’t get all shy now, love. it’s your cum i’m licking off my fingers and i’ll be damned if you ever feel nervous around me again.” 

you chuckled in disbelief. the tom riddle in your head was supposed to be prim and proper, but the real tom was salacious and vulgar; a version of him that was better than what you could have ever imagined. still, despite the heated exchange, tom was surprisingly tender as he helped clean you up. you blushed furiously as he pulled your dress down and kissed your cheek. 

the timing couldn’t have been more perfect because soon after you were situated, the two of you heard footsteps in the hall. you barely had time to compose yourself before mattheo came barging into the room. 

“tom, have you seen my phone?” mattheo paused in surprise when he found you staring back at him. “oh, hi y/n. what are you doing here?” 

“you asked me to come over and hang out, remember?” 

“did I?” mattheo wondered aloud. “I was pretty baked earlier. guess I must have texted you then. well, i’m free now if you want to watch a movie.” 

tom smirked as you shot a bewildered glance at him. “oh, yeah sure.” 

“by the way, what are you doing in tom’s room? is he boring you to death about his coin collection again?” 

you blushed furiously. “no, uh, we were just…tom and I were…” 

“we were discussing the finer points of human anatomy,” tom lied smoothly. his smirk was still perfectly in place as he glanced over at you. “it was a rather…stimulating conversation. was it not, doll?” 

the tips of your ears were bright red as you nodded in place of a response, because you couldn’t trust yourself to speak at the moment.

mattheo rolled his eyes. “well, if you’re done being a weirdo, y/n and I will be in the basement.” 

you fiddled with the hem of your dress, not quite able to meet tom’s eyes. “um, well, I guess I’ll see you later?” 

tom winked behind his brother’s back. “you know where to find me, doll.”