#he has been naked for a week straight now

[cerebralabyss]

does anyone else have a (human-ish) alter that is just…. a NUDIST?!?!? AND WALKS AROUND AND SITS IN HEADSPACE BUTT NAKED ALL THE TIME????? IS THAT JUST AN US THING ????? PLEASE tell me i’m not insane

- 🖤

[vintage-fuzz]

Honestly, viewing Ford & Fiddleford’s relationship from the perspective of a Gravity Falls citizen is kind of crazy because, it’s the early 80s & this elusive, out-of-towner scientist has been working & living by himself in a secluded woodland cabin for like 6 years & then, all of a sudden, this southern scientist guy joins him &, on occasion, they start showing up in town together, going to the carnival with one another & eating at the diner together amongst various other activities.

As the months pass, the cracks in their relationship begin to show, even to outsiders, all the while coinciding with even stranger occurrences than normal. Unexplained beams of light emanate from their shared cabin, gravity’s pull on the Earth lessens, causing people & objects to float in midair at random intervals & the scientists themselves seem visibly sleep-deprived, on-edge & paranoid.

This escalates to them having a very public & highly volatile argument at the local diner they frequent, in front of numerous other patrons. They’d see Ford storm off & curse Fiddleford under his breath, tossing a ring into the lake. They’d see Fiddleford’s desperation & fear, as he hopelessly urges Ford to accept the thesis (which, to them, just look like various non-specific papers) he painstakingly put together for him, pleading with him to abandon their project.

Then, with no warning, the southerner just disappears, only to reemerge years, if not decades later as a crazed recluse. The main scientist, however, he’s still showing up in town, but this time around he’s different somehow, he’s wild, unhinged & downright masochistic. He wreaks havoc on the townsfolk & upon himself as he harasses law enforcement, strips naked, eats live spiders, & even becomes an early adopter of the “tramp stamp” &, is overall, a general nuisance.

After causing a bit of chaos, he just straight up disappears for a few weeks until he announces that now he gives guided tours of his lab & has a mullet. Nearly all of this happens before the Society of the Blind Eye has properly formed too, so unless Fiddleford was just going on mass mind erasing sprees in his spare time, there’s no way people forgot about this, at least not immediately.

In conclusion, all of this just looks like an extremely messy breakup, which, is partially true, lmao.

[fettuccin-e]

Man in the Mirror

Kinktober Day 19: Voyeurism

Tags: Marc Spector x Reader x Steven Grant, afab!fem!reader, consensual voyeurism, unprotected piv (pls wrap it in real life omg), dirty talk, slight degradation, Steven watches Marc fuck you through a mirror idk what to tell you (w/c: 1K)

A/N: Back with the boys because I love them and I cannot help myself okay!!! And this is consensual, even though Steven doesn't exactly know it at the beginning, he just thinks he's being a perv. But in my fics, everyone is a perv alright! (this month I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)

Steven knows it’s wrong, God, it’s fucking wrong, but it’s like he can’t stop himself.

There’s something about the way Marc fucks you, the way you scrabble at the bedsheets when the shoves you into a lewd arch, his hand pressing into your back. The way you moan for it, heaving breaths into your lungs. It’s the way Marc talks to you through it, talking to you like you’re the filthy one, like you’re the one who’s desperate for it, even though Steven knows it’s both of you.

“God damn, baby,” Marc snarls, fucking into you hard enough that tears are starting to leak down your cheeks. “You’re fucking sucking me in, sweetheart. Feels good, huh? Getting fucked like you need?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you gasp through the moans he forces out of your mouth with every thrust. “It’s so fucking good, Marc, you’re so fucking deep.”

Steven should stop, right now. Go hide in the headspace, go to sleep and let you both have some privacy. Fuck, he's as naked as Marc is right now, he should feel exposed, have some god damn decency. But it’s like he’s stuck in place, staring in through the mirror as Marc rips you apart in ways he’s never dreamed to. It’s fucking addicting to watch the way your eyes roll back, the way your ass smacks back against Marc every time he shoves himself in, in, in. He reaches down to his bare cock and squeezes, unable to help it.

You’d only put this mirror up a week ago, and he hadn't even thought about the positioning of it. It’s placed on the wall right across from the foot of your bed, and fuck, he can see everything. He hadn’t noticed, hadn’t thought about this view when he had helped you set it straight, Marc coming into view in the reflection and smirking at Steven like he knew something he didn’t. Steven had brushed it off.

He shouldn’t have fucking brushed it off.

Because he’s sure, almost fucking positive, that Marc had somehow known. He’d known that Steven would watch, just like this, how Marc takes care of their girl. How he destroys you in ways that Steven can’t even think up on his own. It’s a special kind of torture, seeing you like this and not feeling it, not feeling you.

Marc’s thrusts are brutal, violent like the man himself. He treats you with so much care normally, Steven has seen it, but this isn’t gentle in the least. And you love it, crying out and drooling onto your sheets as Marc rips you to pieces, pulling you back onto his cock with thick fingers digging hard into your hips. He’s not sure how long he’s been watching intently, unable to tear his gaze away, when he sees Marc’s head snap up.

Looking right fucking at him.

Steven should go, disappear from the consciousness entirely, but it’s like he’s glued to the spot, his gaze locked with Marc’s. Marc’s thrusts don’t stutter, don’t stop, and you’re blissfully unaware as Marc watches Steven watch you.

Until Marc grins like the bastard he is, and leans down to mutter, just loud enough for Steven to hear, “Guess who’s here, gorgeous?”

“Wh-what?” you gasp through Marc’s unrelenting thrusts.

“He’s watching, baby,” Marc smiles, glancing up at Steven. “Just like you wanted.”

You wanted- you wanted? Steven’s breath catches in his throat, he’s pretty sure his heart stops fucking beating. 

“Steven,” you moan like it’s been punched out of you. “Steven’s here.”

“He’s watchin’ in that mirror you put up, sweetheart,” Marc says, “Watching me fuck you.” Steven is flushed beet-red, he knows it, but still, he watches. “Look at him, baby,” Marc growls, “Fucking look at him.”

Marc reaches up and curls a fist into your hair, tugging your head up to look straight into the mirror, straight at Steven. And God, you’re beautiful, tears falling down your face, your lips plump from the way you’ve been biting at them. You can’t see him, Steven knows that, but you look anyway, like you really can.

“She wanted this,” Marc snarls, and you clench your eyes shut, like you want to hide from Steven’s gaze. “She put that mirror up, hoping you’d watch like this. Wanted me to watch you both too, Steven.” You whine, and Marc’s thrusts seem to get even harder. “Our baby’s a little slut, just wants someone to watch her get fucked, isn’t that right, honey?”

“Your-” you gasp, staring into the mirror, like you’re talking to Steven, too. “Your slut, fuck, just yours.”

Marc fucking growls, his hips driving his cock into you. Steven can hear the way your pussy squishes around him, so wet you’re dripping down onto the sheets beneath you. Your body is covered in sweat, glinting in the light, practically glowing.

“Gonna let him fuck you after this, baby?” Marc grits, “Fucking whore for this cock, can’t get enough.” You slur a stream of yesyesyesyes as Marc reaches beneath you to start rubbing furiously at your clit, and you tremble beneath him.

“C’mon, gorgeous, cum for me.” Marc glances up at Steven. “Cum for both of us.”

Your eyes go wide, your mouth gaping open around a silent scream as you gush down Marc’s cock, body shaking as Marc fucks you through it, letting out a strangled groan of his own. Steven is hard as a fucking rock, straining against his stomach, begging for your touch. He watches as Marc thrusts deep and stills, his eyelids fluttering as he pumps you full of his cum.

You slump into the sheets, and Marc slides out of you, leaning down to kiss down your spine, muttering little praises of “such a good girl,” and “took it so well, looked so pretty,” into your skin. You roll onto your back, tugging Marc down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. Marc smiles against your mouth, and Steven feels that familiar pull to the front.

He shuts his eyes, and when he blinks them open again, you’re smiling up at him, reaching up to brush a reverent hand across his jaw.

“Enjoyed the show?” you whisper, and Steven can’t help the way he grins, the way his heart flutters.

“More than you know, darling,” he mutters, and leans to lick into your mouth. “Got to give Marc a show now, yeah?”

[daisynik7]

Nanami is so touch starved after just a weekend without you.

He picks you up from the airport after a quick trip with your friends. “Hi sweetie!” you greet him, kissing him on the cheek before loading the trunk with your luggage. “I missed you.”

At first, he plays it cool, muttering a quiet, “I missed you too.” When you’re both inside, you give him a full kiss on the lips, letting your tongue tease the inside his mouth, nothing more. It’s almost dinnertime; tonight, you’re supposed to meet his family for their weekly homecooked meal, a little tradition you started when you got married. If you head there now, you’ll make it just in time. 

Nanami, however, has other plans. 

“Let’s drop your things off at home,” he insists, driving slightly over the speed limit. You eye him suspiciously, but don’t question it, especially when you notice him adjust his pants in his seat, the bulge very obviously strained against the fabric. Once he pulls into the driveway, he rushes out of the car, grabbing your suitcase, hustling to unlock the door. You try not to laugh, aware of why he’s behaving this way. Within seconds of being inside, he’s all over you. Hands on your waist, fingers digging into your flesh, hungry and needy, his mouth salivating across the skin of your neck. He kicks his shoes off hastily, leading you straight into the bedroom, not wanting to waste another second. He undresses quickly, revealing the precum already sticky inside his briefs. You tease him about it, only for him to admit, “I’ve been like this since I saw you. I can’t wait any longer. Please, honey.”

Not wanting to torment him further, you give him exactly what he wants. Stripped naked, you spread your cheeks open for him, coaxing him. “Go ahead, then. Use me like your fucking cock sleeve.” He goes feral, fucking you into the mattress with your head buried in the pillow, moaning his name over and over. You shake your ass back and forth on his cock to reach your orgasm, his fingers massaging your swollen clit until you're gushing around him. “You feel incredible, sweetheart,” he coos, watching you swallow him up with each thrust. “I missed you so much.”

Drool trickles down the sides of your lips. “Missed you too,” you whine, still working his cock. He hammers into your slick cunt, not stopping until he fills you up with the load he’s been saving for you all week. 

When you finally arrive to his parent’s house, Nanami apologizes for being late, an innocent smile on his face with his hand pressed lovingly to your back. You squeeze your legs together, pussy clenched to keep his cream pie stuffed inside you. He’s not quite finished with you yet.  

[jupiter-letters]

Dating Number 4/ Klaus Hargreeves would include☂️👻:

Fem! or GN! Reader TW: Brief mentions of addiction

A/N: I started Umbrella Academy a week ago and I’m obsessed, I’m almost done with season 3 and I can’t wait for season 4. I’d managed to fall in love with Robert Sheehan all over again and all that love has to go somewhere so here it is.

Waking up to little peppered kisses on your back and up your torso. If you don’t open your eyes he’ll just start blowing raspberries into your neck and on your face. Once he hears you laughing he’ll stop and flip you over. He likes being the first thing you see when you wake up. Some days are a little more peaceful and less silly, you wake to see him still asleep. A mess of curls and smudged glitter eyeshadow is the first thing you see. He’s at such peace and the most still you’ll ever see him. 

Putting makeup on each other, whether it’s going out or just playing around with new looks it doesn’t matter. Being able to experiment with new colors and combinations with each other is so much fun. On date nights you’ll pick outfits for each other, sometimes even just wearing each other’s clothes. Doing things like this with him leads to doing most things together. 

Why have him do things when you can do it for him? Or even with him? He loves having you wash his hair. Showers, baths? Of course we have to both be in there at the same time! Klaus is so touch starved any reason to spend time together he’ll take it,an added bonus is your company keeps the spirits away. 

You’re always in close proximity to each other, so your skin is always touching. Klaus just can’t get enough, physical touch becomes his middle name. He’s a natural affectionate person but just having you near is very grounding for him. 

He’ll draw on you with little glitter pens he carries in his pocket, he likes to call you his “canvas and his muse.” Even without the pens he’ll trace random shapes and words onto your arm or your back when you both lie in bed. Klaus also likes to play with your fingers when he’s bored.

Kissing!! He’s such a fiend for kissing my god, after that first kiss he’s finished. He always says he wants just one but it ends up escalating to a full on make out sesh. Doesn’t matter if you’re public or not you look too good it’d be a crime not to kiss you. Klaus doesn’t really give a damn about public embarrassment, if you wanted him to he’d run through central park naked, he would.

 Once he knows you’re ok with all the random bursts of affection he really piles it on. Neck kisses, shoulder kisses, nose kisses, not one day goes by where he doesn’t kiss you. He kisses like he wants to devour you, if he wasn’t able to kiss you that’d be hell on Earth. If you’re a fan of random kisses at the most inappropriate times he’s a professional. You’re driving, he’s gonna make out with you. Out shopping, kissing! Right now! Doctor’s appointment? Kisses under your jaw in the waiting room, he can’t help it, he's bored.

Helping him get clean, you and Ben have been pretty good influences in his life. Trying to keep him on the straight and narrow for the sake of his health. He wants to be present for you, he wants to be able to remember the things you do together. You help him find fun things to do without getting drugs involved. Taking your time and being patient with him means the world to him. He loves his siblings but they aren’t the best at helping him with it. They do try a little harder when you come around seeing how serious you are about helping him. You stay awake with him when his nightmares get too bad or when the withdrawal is really wearing him down. If it’s the ghosts that are bothering him you just tell them to piss off.(he really appreciates that)

Klaus begins to teach himself new skills to help you out around the house, cooking, cleaning you name it. He doesn’t do it very well but you appreciate the effort anyway. Chores become another activity for you both to do. He’ll even indulge in some of your hobbies just for the fun of it. 

Tattoos! He gets something on his wrist that reminds him of you, he can’t wait to show you too. If you get one related to him, god forbid a little number 4 on you he’ll cry. He does eventually tell you about the rest of his journey in Vietnam and Dave. Klaus wants to be sure you know he won’t compare you to him, He’ll always love Dave but he doesn’t love you any less. He’ll get really shy if you kiss his hand tattoos, there aren’t a lot of ways to fluster him so that’s a good one. 

Being surrounded by death and destruction most of his life really makes him appreciate what you have. The way you indulge in his antics and impulses makes Klaus feel so seen. You don’t feel real to him sometimes; late at night he’ll just lay his head on your chest and listen to your heart beating. 

When some crazy new developments or drama happens in his family you’re first to know. Luther tells him something very personal and secret and 15 mins later he’s calling you on the mansion’s phone. 

Luther: “This stays between us Klaus I mean it…” Klaus: “Of course Lulu I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone you’re dirty little secret” A few moments later… Klaus: “Babe you’ll never believe what Luther just told me!”

He’ll always be looking at you, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing you have his full attention. Klaus will just be gazing at you lovingly while five is trying to talk to him, eventually he’ll just ignore him and go to talk to you. You're his favorite person to talk to; he never gets bored with you.

Thanks for reading! Lemme know what you think. Please like or reblog if you like my stuff.

[hairmetal666]

Everyone in the league knows about Eddie Munson. He has the makings of a great pitcher, except for the fact that his slider has a 75% chance of sliding too high and his fastballs mostly end up in the dirt. His technique is wild, flailing, unrestrained. Which is why Steve is beside himself when he learns about the trade.

The owners, they think that Steve being the best catcher in the league means he can work with Eddie, settle him, make him a real prospect. Steve's input isn't needed with the decision already made, but Munson--with all his tattoos piercings and leather--looks like he'd rather hock a loogie at Steve than take directions from him.

And Steve is the best in the league, the glue that keeps the team together. They're a well-oiled machine, and Eddie is--Eddie is a squeaky wheel.

They meet for the first time, briefly, in the locker room. He's seen the guy before, of course, but now, like this, he can't help but be intrigued by his pale skin and long curls and brown doe-eyes, his lightly muscled frame. And they're in the locker room, Eddie with just a towel around his waist, exposing his toned chest and stomach and the black swirl of his tattoos.

"Steve Harrington!" Eddie reaches out a hand. "Great to meet you, man."

"You too. Excited to have you with us." The handshake is quick and firm and Steve is trying not to be surprised about how excited and genuine the guy sounds, keep his mind away from thinking of how Eddie is naked aside from the towel.

With only a few weeks until the start of the regular season, Eddie starts pitching to Steve. And Steve, he so expects Eddie to fight and grumble and refuse, that his head sort of spins when, on the first day, Eddie claps him on the back with his glove, says, "where do you want me, cap?" and that's that.

He wants to say that they dislike each other, that they're a bad fit, that Eddie is full himself and refuses constructive criticism.

Instead.

Instead it's easy.

Eddie doesn't complain, doesn't argue, just watches Steve, learns him, takes his advice and notes and implements them as much as he can. They like each other, have an easy rapport, get each other. He's tight with all the pitchers, but Eddie is different. They settle each other.

They're best friends. They hangout constantly. And he doesn't have a crush; he doesn't. It would be unprofessional. They're best friends.

But sometimes, sometimes he thinks he catches Eddie looking at him. It's impossible. Of course it's impossible. Eddie couldn't be into the guy Sports Illustrated called "baseball's Ralph Lauren model" in the intro to Steve's Body Issue photo spread. And it doesn't matter one way or the other because Steve won't make a move. He won't jeopardize the team like that.

They don't touch. He touches everyone on the team, often, and Eddie particularly is a physical guy, but aside from that first handshake, he keeps his distance. Steve's afraid--even though it's silly, he's afraid--that once they start touching, he won't be able to stop, and he can't let that happen.

The team is good, competing for first place in the National League. Eddie's success has made everyone else better.

It's late July, they're in first place in the league, and Eddie's pitching a perfect game. There's only been 24 perfect games thrown in the history of Major League Baseball, but it's the eighth inning and Eddie's doing it.

A pitch goes wild, veers high over the umpire's head. Eddie's shaken, Steve can tell with how his fist tightens compulsively around the ball. The next pitch swings wide, towards the batter's knees.

The count is at 2 balls, no strikes, and he can see, even from behind home plate Steve can see, that Eddie's losing it. He heads for the mound, refuses to let it end like this. He closes the distance between them, has a quick internal debate before he puts his hand on Eddie's lower back. They've never touched, this is it, this is--warmth bleeds from Eddie's skin, through the fabric of his jersey, goes straight to Steve's head.

Eddie frowns. "I don't think I--"

"You're going to do it, Ed. I know. I can feel it." He pats his chest, over his heart. "It's gonna happen."

Eddie's breathing settles and it's only then that Steve realizes he's rubbing circles into Eddie's back with his thumb. He's not sure when he started, doesn't want to stop, loves being able to feel.

"Okay," Eddie says.

"Okay."

Steve removes his hand, heads back to home, still tingling with the warmth of Eddie's body even as he crouches behind the plate.

He closes out the inning with three definitive strike outs. The crowd goes wild.

They take the field for the top of the 9th, the crowd is screaming, ready for this, the energy zipping through every player on the field.

It goes by in a blur. Nine pitches. Eddie's perfect game is wrapped up in nine phenomenal pitches.

As the ump calls the last out, there's a moment of complete and utter quiet in the stadium, Steve's heart a pounding hum in his ears, before pandemonium breaks loose. There's screaming, fireworks, someone is crying--

All he can see is Eddie. Eddie's who's thrown his glove to the dirt, is barreling towards him with a triumphant smile bright on his face. Steve stands, runs to close the distance. He sees the moment that Eddie decides to jump into his arms, catches him easily--will always catch him--but his legs are tired and the momentum gets him, sends them tumbling back into the grass.

They're both yelling, laughing, smiling hard enough to hurt. Eddie's hair has fallen out if its tie, tumbling around his shoulders, and Steve gazes at him, can't help it, in this moment can admit that he's so, so astronomically in love.

It's only then Steve realizes that the laughter's stopped, that Eddie's gazing back. Brown eyes shining bright with happiness, cheeks flushed pink, lips parted. Thoughtless, he reaches up to caress Eddie's cheek.

The team reaches them, streaming around them, yanking Eddie and Steve to their feet. The celebration stretches around them, the moment slipping away. He wants to finish what they started but there are interviews, champagne showers, congratulations, that keep them apart. Sometimes, from across the room, their eyes meet, and there's heat there that's new, that sparks something low in Steve's gut.

Hours pass, and finally he finds himself alone in the locker room. He's just pulled on his t-shirt when the door shuts behind him. He spins, finds Eddie, waiting, watching.

He crosses the room without a word, can't not, not now, not after everything. They grapple for a second, the wanting so strong that it takes a second to settle, to find each other. They kiss hard, desperate, seething with desire.

Steve hopes it never ends and it doesn't, just tapers into soft kisses, gentle nips. He can't bring himself to step away.

"Is this for real ?" Eddie whispers.

"I've been insane about you since the trade."

Eddie's smile is blinding. "I used to have those pictures of you--the ones with the little red shorts?--in my locker in the minors. Feel like I'm living in a dream right now."

It lights him up inside, knowing that Eddie wants him, has wanted him. "Let me take you home and show you just how real it is?"

He snorts, but his dimples deepen, eyes shining. "What a line, sweetheart."

"Yeah well, the baseball field isn't the only place where I hit home runs."

[smuttysabina]

Tropical Infatuation

(Male Reader x Lalisa & Jennie Kim, 4.4k Words) Tags: Incest; Back by popular demand; The plot thickens, and so has Lisa; Pregnancy; Copious creampies; Creampies NOT in your older sister; Vaginal sex; Anal sex; Blowjobs; Some pissing; You fuck your older sister Lisa some more; More sex than this fic has room for!

Part 1 Here!

Lalisa murmurs softly as she languidly rolls over, instinctively snuggling closer to her partner for warmth, pressing her lithe body against his back. She purrs as she gradually remembers who he is, and has to restrain herself from reaching down and touching his no-doubt throbbing erection, who would have thought that her baby brother's cock would fit her so perfectly? It had been four months since she had first allowed her darling sibling to fuck her for a week straight, and the perversity of it all still excited her to no end. Lisa's lower lips moisten as she remembers it, her holes had relentlessly pumped full of her brother's semen, she had let him have his way with her in any way he could imagine; and she had loved every moment of it. Things had hardly slowed down after the end of the trip, her younger sibling had refused her love for so long, and now that he was open to it she had drowned him in affection. Lisa had submitted to her brother in ways she had never for any other man, her mouth, pussy, and anus were open for his free use whenever he liked; and she had happily dressed up and cosplayed for him when he asked. It had been nearly enough to satiate her boundless lusts, nearly. Lisa still enjoyed fucking her pets and fans, but she would always return to her baby brother, and relish in his roughness as he would jealously plow their cum out of her; honestly it was so endearing! But he really shouldn't worry about her affections drifting, considering the depravity causing her belly to swell and bulge, her womb belonged to him now after all. And with that perverted thought in mind, Lisa squirms deeper under the sheets, it was time to make her breakfast...

You stir as you feel a familiar wet sensation engulf your manhood, awakening you from your slumber, causing your hips to rock experimentally as you explore it. The deeper you push, the better it feels, and soon your entire length is inside of the warm stimulation, so you start to thrust. You groan as pleasure suddenly shoots down your shaft, as your still half-asleep body puts in the work for you until you are full cognizant, whereupon you gather enough wits to lift the covers and reveal the source of your rousing. Lisa smiles up at you from the twilight beneath the covers, pressing your hips so that they are flat against the bed as she greets you, "Hello baby brother," before returning to her work. You shudder as your older sister switches from her idle passivity and locks her lips around your shaft, taking your cock to the hilt without gagging as her tongue roils against the underside of your member. Laying back against your pillow, you sigh as Lisa determinedly sucks you off, your hand atop her head as she glides up and down your meat until your balls begin to pulse urgently. Your big sister makes encouraging sounds as your dick starts to throb, her tiny hands cupping your sack as it rises, as she stares eagerly up at you. Moaning, you creampie Lisa's throat, your seed spewing down her gullet as she patiently swallows every last drop, forgoing breathing so as to not waste any of it until you are finished feeding her. Wearing a naughty grin, your older sister pulls off of you, and opens her mouth to prove that she had drunk it all, "Good morning dear, ready to serve my cunt some breakfast as well?"

Lisa throws off the covers and rolls over onto her back as you scramble atop her, your manhood bulging as you drink in the sight of your sister's naked body. Your sibling had grown noticeably more curvy since that first morning you had rutted like a beast with her, her breasts had swollen up, her nipples had ripened, her thighs and butt had put on some meat, and her formerly taut stomach now sported a rather prominent bump; and this was what aroused you the most. Lisa smirks slyly up at you, "Are you going to keep admiring your work, or are you going to fuck me already?" Still slathered with her spit, you angle your cock downwards and press into the damp warmth of your older sister, slowly filling her pussy until your balls kiss her asshole. Lisa moans softly as you stretch her gluttonous hole out, her legs locking around your waist with loving familiarity, pulling your head down against her smooth neck. You start with slow, deep thrusts, but before too long you are lustfully trying to fuck your sister through the bed, as her cunt makes an absolute mess in the sheets. Loud, meaty slaps reverberate around the room as you plow your big sister, even as she shrilly urges you on while you nuzzle and gnaw upon her skin. Both of you groan when you finally creampie Lisa, your sibling quivering beneath you as your seed sloshes inside of her fertile pussy, coating her cervix in your sperm. You spend some time cuddling as your manhood gradually slips out of her, whereupon she idly explores the sticky load with her fingers before giving you an arch look, "You do know you can't knock me up if I'm already pregnant, right? You keep pumping me full of cum like you think you can..." Lisa glances down between your legs, "Oh. Fine, one more time, but there's only a few hours before the event, and getting ready takes forever..." your older sister sighs affectionately, "I'm going to have to rush again, aren't I?"

Lisa sweeps into the lavish gala, fashionably late as was her wont, dressed in a scandalous white skirt and top, reeking of sex and semen; which was only to be expected of an idol. Strutting socialites mingled with preening millionaires, their bodies dowered with gilt and finery, the ladies' flesh scandalously exposed, the men's pants bulging indiscreetly. She had arrived alone, leaving her darling brother behind so she could, mingle, with the wealthy guests, it would be rude of her to ignore their slavish attentions, and she enjoyed it as much as they did. After all, it was unhealthy to eat only desert, and as sweet as her baby brother was, Lisa still required a healthy diet to slake her sexual hunger. Better yet, she was able to get more business done on her knees than she would seated around the dining table; it was honestly unsurprising how many old, smelly cocks she had to suck to secure funding for her nascent company. Several million dollars later, the dinner bell is rung, and Lisa leisurely makes her way to her seat, smoothly seating herself next to her sibling as if she hadn't just been slobbering all over other men's cocks for the past hour; though to be fair, she had eaten out more than a few hairy blown-out cunts as well. Sitting next to her younger brother clearly implied that she intended to enjoy the meal on the table, rather than be bent over it, and the still unsatisfied crowd establish themselves along the long piece of furniture. Several spots remain unclaimed, but that was simply to be expected, some people simply could not wait to fuck until after dinner had ended, and so had started early. So Lisa suffers through several hours of banal conversation, while the businessmen's glittering escorts glare at her jealously. She had no doubt that all of the "ladies" would end the night with their panties around their ankles, anything to get these pampered scions to shut up for a moment.

The boredom was starting to get to Lisa, as well as several of the female companions, who had apparently decided that sucking cock beneath the table was a better fate than unceasingly tedious conversation. Lisa herself had found herself idly groping her brother's crotch as time had passed, discreetly nurturing the mound in his pants until a wet spot appeared; maybe it was time for a quick break... Politely excusing herself from the table, the idol sweetly asks her dearest brother to escort her to the bathroom, after all, it was so easy to get lost in the maze of corridors surrounding the event hall! As Lisa leaves, clutching her sibling's arm, she notices many of the older men staring at her slightly protruding stomach, their eyes glued to her womb. She sighs softly, men were just so obsessed with breeding, the moment they discovered that her pussy was fertile they had kept dumping their loads in there; her ass barely even got any use these days! Lisa used to be spit-roasted and triple penetrated by her depraved lovers, but now it was mostly endless mating presses; the men waiting patiently in line to breed her cunt; whereas before they had fought tooth and nail to cram themselves into any available hole. It was so boring! Whatever, Lisa thinks as she pulls her brother into the private bathroom with her before locking the door, this time she was going to be insistent...

You are humping your older sister before you can even think to remove your pants, rubbing your throbbing erection against her perky ass needily. Lisa laughs as she pushes back against your crotch just as hard, grinding her butt skillfully into your meat until you are about to fill your pants. Smirking, your sibling relents long enough to hoist her skirt up onto her, as she bends over and provocatively spreads her cheeks for you, "Well, what are you waiting for?" You nearly rip your pants off in your desperation to get your cock out, but soon you are shoving your cockhead against her drooling slit. Lisa's fingers find your shaft, but instead of guiding you inside of her, they push upwards so that you are penetrating her tight asshole, "Impregnate my guts for once, you idiot," your sister grunts as you shove your entire length into her mostly unlubricated ass, clutching at the sink for support. Lisa's entire body quivers as you violently ravage her innards, painfully pounding away at her until your balls are slick with her pussy fluids. Your big sister lets out hiss when you finally dump your pent up load into her guts, painting her tight coils with sloppy ropes of cum as you groan loudly. Lisa looks back at you in alarm and rolls her eyes, "Holy fuck keep it down! Save the noise for when we get back to our room!" Grumbling, your sibling wriggles out of your grasp and plops down onto the toilet, where she starts to noisily piss.

Lisa gives you an amused look as you stand there watching her pee, and motions you over, "You had better go as well, so people won't be suspicious," Looking bored, she opens her legs, revealing the gap between her and the edge of the seat, "Try not to piss on me, I like this outfit," Your pants still around your ankles, you waddle over and do your best to comply, sighing as you void your bladder, you had not realized it was so full after getting edged for a couple hours. Lisa watches the yellow stream passing between her thighs like a hawk, before suddenly surging forward and gobbling up your flaccid cock. You moan as the last portion of your urine shoots down your older sister's throat, while she enthusiastically sucks you off even as she swallows your heavy piss. By the time you had finished peeing, you were already rock hard again, and more than happy to let Lisa suck you off while she rubbed herself beneath her skirt. She noisily climaxes into the toilet, spraying the bowl with her squirt as she relishes in the sordid taste of her ass mixed with piss on your manhood. Lisa pulls off your cock before glancing to the side, eyes narrowed in thought, before conversationally saying, "I think I shit your load out," your sister looks back up at you, "Want to put another in me?" Giggling, your sibling bends over the stinking toilet, twisting her skirt into a bunch to make sure it did not get dirtied, and places her hand on your chest, "Don't you dare piss in my ass though," she tells you sternly, "We can try that out later in our room, got it? Good, now fuck my ass," And you happily comply.

Beaming innocently, Lisa rejoins the table as if she had not just had her guts hosed down with her own brother's semen, her outfit once more immaculately in place. Once back in her chair however, the idol immediately notices the change in the room, like any apex predator, she could instinctively notice the presence of another, it took only a quick glance to find her rival. Jennie Kim, seating ever so innocently next to some ripe looking fuck-meat that likely was going to rendered unconscious within half an hour once things got down to business; how delightful. The girls don't bother greeting another, for one thing Jennie was halfway down the table, but their sly glances were more than enough to convey their thoughts; nonverbal communication was common amongst idol groups. So Lisa sighs internally, Jennie says was here to see how her dear friend's pregnancy was coming along, but she could read between the lines well enough; it was about her brother. Incest was hardly uncommon in the industry, though pregnancy surely was, those few idols that ended up with a swollen belly usually took it to term simply for the massive publicity and financial boost it gave them; fans adored paying to support what might perhaps be their child. But incest still caused the more puritanical to turn their noses, which Lisa knew for a fact Jennie was not, they had made disgustingly sloppy love enough for that to be obvious, but Jisoo perhaps...? Oh well, she would just have to protect her brother like any good sister would, only with more sex, and probably fisting.

You squirm uncomfortably in the armchair as a literal goddess tenderly strokes your shoulder, her cherubic face graced with the sweetest smile, "Hello," says Jennie, "You must be Lisa's little brother, so nice to see you again..." She leans down and gives you a tender kiss on your cheek, her manners the epitome of an angelic lady, if only if it were not for the fact that she was completely naked and smeared with semen. You had watched Jennie rapaciously fuck her way through a crowd of the great and good, and it seemed like only your relation to her her beloved friend stopped you from suffering the same fate. Speaking of your sister, you spot Lisa energetically engaged in a ménage au quatre, her every hole filled by impressively meaty cocks; help would not be coming from her any time soon. All around you, guests were busy enjoying themselves, portly businessmen rutted with their much younger companions, while stately ladies frolicked with strapping young men; but the pair of idols remained the center of attention. At least, Jennie had been until she had finished off all of her most ardent lovers with savage speed, so now those who were unoccupied hurried into Lisa's sphere of influence. Which left the idol with more than enough time to lavish you with her full attention, setting your heart fluttering from the burning heat of her desire. She reassures you with a kindly purse of her luscious lips, "Don't worry about your sister, she'll be busy with the gifts I got her for a little while longer, so until then, shall we?"

Not for the first time this night, your pants were undergoing severe strain as your manhood attempts to force its way through them, much to Jennie's evident amusement. She pets the comical bulge around your crotch, teasing it for a few aching moments before unzipping you and allowing your member to arch up towards the ceiling. Jennie raises an eyebrow, "Such stamina, I can see Lisa trained you well," You sputter out a weak response, which only causes Jennie to laugh at your embarrassment; she taps your nose to quiet you, before smoothly sliding down onto the floor and confronting your cock. Without preamble, Jennie starts sucking on your manhood, expertly moving up and down your shaft until you are shuddering and groaning with pleasure; she was even better at it than your older sister! Then she pauses, her eyes narrowing in thought, before pulling off of you and giving you a quizzical look, "You have been fucking Lisa haven't you? I can taste her cunt on your cock, also I'm fairly certain you forgot to wash yourself off after fucking her asshole." You nearly puke in mortification, not only did your sister's groupmate know you had been with Lisa, but here she was openly mocking you for it! Jennie chuckles at your reaction, "Adorable, this will be fun," with that she lithely remounts the armchair and straddles you, her prim pussy lips nearly kissing your tip, "Don't worry," she reassures you once more, "I'll be gentle," and with that Jennie Kim sits on your cock.

Your older sister's pussy was sloppy, her folds greedily slobbering all over your cock, engulfing it in stimulation and affection until it is given its creamy reward; Jennie's pussy, was tight. It gripped your cock firmly, crushing your meat against her sensitive spots, relentlessly squeezing it without showing any signs of tiring. If she had been moving at her regular pace, you had no doubt that you would be busy plastering her insides with your semen, but luckily for you she kept her promise, and moves with languid slowness. You shudder as Jennie slowly grinds her way up and down your shaft, her pussy dragging itself across every inch of flesh, nuzzling against every curve and crevasse until your mind melts from this infernal edging. Your balls ache horribly, as overeager dribbles of precum slowly inundate the idol's hole, though most of it ends up back on your sack as her voracious cunt squeezes out any excess fluids. All the while Jennie stares down at you with something close to endearment, amused by your erotic suffering and indulgently prolonging it as you moan beneath her. Eventually, even Jennie seems to tire of her lazy pace, her face showing the the hints of an aroused flush as she leans in close and growls in your ear, "Impressive, just how much have you been fucking your sister?" your only response is a groan of pained delight, which makes her chuckle, "Let's see just how well Lisa has trained you..." And with that she pauses mid-stroke, and suddenly slams herself down onto your crotch.

You spasm as Jennie mechanically pistons herself up and down your manhood, flinging herself upward until the flare of your cockhead presses against her entrance, before pounding herself down into your pelvis. Her riding was relentless, and soon your already overstimulated balls are fast rising to the occasion, your member pulsating with sordid warmth as your climax approaches. Groaning, you clutch at Jennie's petite asscheeks as your load erupts inside of her, not that she was bothering to slow down in consideration of your orgasm. She continues to tirelessly bounce atop your cock even as you tremble and shake from the waves of pleasure coursing through you, while your load is ejected from her tight cunt as fast as you can fill it. Jennie only slows down when you start to gurgle and paw at her desperately, she cocks her head in bemusement, "Not even five minutes," she sighs, "better than average, but still disappointing," something feral flashes across her expression, and her eyes narrow as if she had come to some unknown conclusion, "I wonder if Lisa would forgive me..." she muses, before an angry voice interjects, "What the fuck are doing to my brother?"

Lisa was beyond furious. She wasn't mad about her little brother fucking other women, far from it, she was more than happy to share. Lisa had even been there to help him knock up that puritanical slut of a girlfriend he has, the bitch had been so worked up she had squirted before he had even put it in! A very messy few hours later, and her soon-to-be sister was beyond fertilized, which pleased her since she needed someone to help raise all the kids they would be pumping out. No, what Lisa was pissed about was that her dear friend Jennie was about to ruin her darling brother's cock because she wasn't able to control herself; if anything she was impressed her brother was not already rendered incontinent by that nymphomaniac. But still... she would be lying to herself if she denied the undercurrents of jealousy running through, pregnancy had some surprising emotional side-effects. Oh well, she could think about this later, time to save her baby brother...

The dreadfully sexual goddess staring hungrily down at you suddenly disappears, your manhood exiting her with a wet pop, and it takes you several moments to process Jennie's abrupt departure. There is quite a bit of yelling coming from the floor in front of you, but you lack the strength to satiate your curiosity. The shouting grows somewhat subdued, but instead a truly appalling squelching noise takes its place; and you feel hot liquid spraying across your legs. Eventually, the sloppy din quiets down, and a frazzled Jennie and Lisa fill your view, arguing passionately, both of their arms slick with fluid up to the elbow. The bickering pair finally agree upon something, and soon you find yourself being hoisted between them and hauled out of the ballroom, even as clusters of guests continue to make frantic love to one another. A blurry journey through bland hotel corridors later, and you are deposited in your bed, the stained sheets from this morning replaced by fresh ones; you really should leave a hefty tip for the maids. You are lovingly tucked into bed, before the two idols settle down on the couch and continue their ceaseless chattering, their soft murmuring often growing loud enough to require shushing.

"...and just look at him! He's exhausted now!" "I didn't use him too much..." "Oh please, he's practically a corpse!" "When did you start to get so defensive about men, is it...?" "...what, jealous?" "No, well.... Jisoo is pissed about it though." "That father-fucker Somi pops out so many babies she can barely even manage a comeback a year, and she worries about me!" "Hssst!" "Oh right... but still, if Somi can get knocked up by her dad, why can't I...?" "...I'm not the one complaining..." "Whatever..." "...Shall we?" "Of course! But keep it down, I want him to get some sleep!" "...I was right, you have gotten wetter down there..." "...Mmmmph! Less talking and more eating!" "Mmphmmmphmmmmm?" "Fuck, you are so much better at this than Rose..."

The dawn finds you in a familiar predicament, your surprisingly sore morning wood impaling the sheets, while a bundle of warmth has suctioned itself to your rear. Groaning, you roll over onto your back, and are surprised to find a second someone snuggling closer against your side. You open your eyes to find Jennie and Lisa staring blearily up at you, with tired smiles crossing their faces, their perky tits squishing against your chest. In perfect harmony their hands slither down to your crotch, as your older sister kisses you good morning, and Jennie soon follows suit. They smooch their way down your chest, toying with your nipples, until they are both nuzzling against your thighs, your manhood twitching between their faces. Lisa beams, "Good morning baby brother, Jennie here has a little gift for you to make up for last night, don't you?" Jennie rolls her eyes, giving you an amused look before turning around and spreading her petite cheeks to reveal her dark brown asshole above her glistening slit. Before you know it you are standing on your knees behind her, hands grasping her tiny waist tightly as your manhood drools in anticipation of entering Jennie's cramped pussy again. But Lisa presses herself against you before you can penetrate her, and purrs into your ear, "Oh no dear, you can use any hole, understand...?" You groan as you trace your tip up her slit before pressing against Jennie's wrinkled rear-entrance, as your giggling sister helps you force your way inside.

Jennie grunts as you shove your cock into her ass, her coils squeezing agonizingly tight around your shaft, her toes curling upwards as you violate her insides. Her work accomplished, Lisa plops herself next to Jennie and assumes the position as well, showing just how much curvier her rear was compared to her fellow idol, "You had better save some for me too little brother," Lisa smirks widely back at you, "I still think you need to fuck my butt more often..." Your sister waits patiently as you plow her friend right next to her, before you eventually give in and mount your sibling's far more welcoming hole; while Jennie grumbles in discontent. You fuck your sister's asshole, before returning to Jennie, now that you were on top, you were enjoying stretching the lithe idol out. With a groan you creampie her guts, even as she quivers with pleasure from the painful anal sex; Lisa pouts with exaggerated disappointment as you gift your first load of the morning to her friend. She doesn't complain for long though, as Jennie crawls atop her and parks her butt right above hers, their holes now lined up for your sole enjoyment. Jennie allows a trickle of semen to slip out of her ass and down her pussy, before it drips down onto Lisa's asshole and drooling slit. Both idols look back at you hungrily, each of them spreading their cheeks to entice your attentions,

"Well little brother," your older sister Lalisa smiles from beneath Jennie Kim, "pick a hole already, we have all morning..."

As it turned out, you had all afternoon as well...

[talaok]

Daddy knows best

Pairing: Step-dad!Joel Miller x Step-daughter!reader

Summary: Joel has given you homework, and although you've never watched porn, one particular thing you see does pique your interest (this is part of a series but can be read alone)

Warnings: step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence, dub-con, Perv Joel, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| fingering, squirting, anal play, one lil pussy slap, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, allusion to oral sex (m), he takes a pic, and LOADS of daddy-kink (Joel is also meaner in this one)

This is a dark fic, so please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don't like what you see.

a/n: I am a very sick individual. dont read this. honestly. just dont

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt.4

"Hi daddy!" you smiled, shutting the door to your room to greet him at the entrance.

"hello sweetheart" he grinned at your excitement getting rid of his jacket and throwing it on the coat stand before his eyes traveled to you, and god was he thankful they did.

That tiny baby blue skirt he's bought you was a damn good investment, and your own touch of that little fucking white top was just as good.

There you were, on display for him, all for him... and you didn't even know.

"I like the outfit" he smirked, tilting his head to get a better look at your naked thighs, thighs he now knew from experience to be soft and just... perfect.

"thank you daddy" you giggled, smiling happily

"You know what you need to do sugar, go on" he gestured, his voice deep and almost strained at the thought of what was about to happen.

It had turned into a routine now, but his dick certainly never got used to it.

"of course" you nodded, obedient as ever, your hands going to the hem of your skirt and slowly, slowly bringing it up- up enough to show him your bare core.

Panties weren't allowed anymore.

He didn't know what it was, but there was just something about the fact that he had the power to make you do that, to make you show your whole naked pussy to him in the middle of the living room, in the way your eyes remained on him, patiently waiting for further instructions, pending from his every word, there was something about that that made him thank each existing god every single time.

He got his good look, and then with just a nod he'd made you cover yourself up again.

"good girl" he smiled, getting rid of his boots as you eagerly stalked closer to him.

"how's my favorite girl doing?" he asked, his voice sweet as he wrapped one arm around you, pushing you closer to him.

"good" you nodded "my exam went well today at school"

Your math exam, the same one he'd watched you study a whole week for, even "helping out" in his own way once or twice... a kiss down there for every right answer had become your new favorite study method.

"mhh, of course" he smirked, stroking your cheek "pretty and smart, now that's my girl"

You bit your lip at his words, that warm feeling traveling between your legs once again.

"a-and how did your day go?" you realized was your turn to ask once you got out of the trance his eyes made you spiral into every time.

"mh" he hummed, shutting his eyes for a moment as if to clear his mind of bad memories from his day "Not great sweetheart... but it would have been a hell of a lot worse if I didn't know I was getting you all to myself tonight"

Once again, heat shot to your cheeks at the flattery.

"you thought about me?"

"'f course I did" he spoke softly "couldn't stop thinkin' about all the ways I can help you out tonight"

"yeah?" your eyes widened, excitement piercing through your tone.

"oh yeah" he growled, kissing you as his hand squeezed one of your asscheeks.

You whimpered into his mouth, and he leaned away.

"did you do your homework sugar?"

"mh-mh" you nodded, "I didn't have a lot today, just English" 

A chuckle rumbled deep from his chest

He did that often, smiling and laughing at something you said, and each time, you were left confused as to why.

"not those homework, babygirl"

The sound of a choked "oh" came out of your mouth, and that smug, predatory smile he always seemed to have around you persisted on his lips.

"y-yes" you said finally "yes I-I was doing them now"

"yeah?" he grinned, his fingers on your ass trailing lower and lower... and then lower, until his digits connected with your pussy- your wet, drenched pussy.

"I can feel it" he chuckled, his fingers sliding into you for no more than a second, 

"daddy" you whimpered

"clean daddy's fingers" he shushed you, bringing the proof of your arousal to your lips, and watching you closely, as you obeyed his command.

It was salty, saltier than his come, you noticed, licking his fingers clean.

"you were in your room?" 

you nodded

"let's go then"

__ __ __

Your room was the same as always, pink everywhere, filling every inch of the space, your curtains were drawn, but some light still soaked through them, and the lamp on your bedside did the rest.

You walked before him, as he had instructed, and when you both entered, he closed the door behind you.

You were moving to the bed where you'd left your laptop, when Joel's voice stopped you.

"What's that shirt doing on the floor?"

"oh I must have left it there when I changed" you explained, crouching down to pick it up 

"not like that" He tutted "Bend down, keep your legs straight"

You frowned, but obeyed nonetheless, feeling cool air hit your core

"stay like that" 

"w-why?"

"'cause daddy's gotta take a picture," he said, pulling out his phone and doing just that, a damn good view in front of him.

"w-why are you always taking pictures?"

he rolled his eyes at your need to question him.

"cause they help me keep track of how healthy you are" he lied through his teeth, walking to you until he could place one of his hands on each of your asscheeks, stroking lazily.

"for example, right now your pussy's very healthy" he drawled, one hand leaving your ass to land a quick slap to your core.

You jolted forward, gasping at the feeling.

It stung, but it also felt kinda... good

He chuckled softly again

"got it?"

"y-yes daddy" you gulped, as he helped you get up, groaning lowly at the feeling of your ass meeting his hard cock.

he turned you around, moving some hair out of your face.

"take off your top"

You did.

"now your skirt"

Again, you did,

remaining completely naked before him.

"good girl" he breathed, his index fingers traveling from the valley of your breasts to your navel, his eyes following suit "Now show me what you found" he nodded to the computer,

He sat on the bed, back against the headboard, and then placed you onto his lap.

He smiled at what he saw on your laptop.

"I-I went to the site you told me" you breathed, your voice no more than a whisper.

"so what do you think of porn?" he smirked

"I-I" Although you were naked, it felt a thousand degrees in that room, and his hands stoking your thighs and your nipples certainly weren't helping "I like... some of it"

"Which ones?"

"the ones that don't feel f-fake" you swallowed thickly 

He just grinned

"and did you find a favorite one like I asked you?"

You bit your lip as you nodded, tapping on your computer to switch tabs

"this one"

It was an amateur one, not in hd, the camera not even straight, but the couple... you really liked them

"play it"

with a tap of your middle finger, soft moans started filling the room, as the man in the video started pleasuring the woman with his mouth, grabbing at every piece of her with his hands, as if he couldn't help it, as if he wanted to devour all of her.

You didn't even notice your hips starting to move on their own accord, trying to grind onto something- anything, as your thighs squeezed shut.

Joel chuckled behind you, his eyes not on the screen but on you.

"what do you like about it?" 

His lips met with your shoulder as his fingers pinched your nipple, and there was nothing that could have stopped the moan that escaped you from doing so.

"T-they just look so... happy" you whispered, trying not to cry because of how desperately needy you felt between your legs "so in love"

This time, Joel managed to bite down his laugh

"a-and I like-"

you stopped, too embarrassed all of a sudden

"what?"

"n-nothing"

Joel shook his head, his mouth to your ear

"You're drenching my pants, sweetheart, it ain't nothing"

You almost moaned at just the sound of how deep and hot his voice sounded

"I like that" you confessed, urging him to look at the screen

"you like that?"

he didn't even sound like himself anymore, just a wolf, a wolf holding a defenseless bunny.

"y-yes"

"you like that she's on top of him" he taunted, "that she's riding his cock" he murmured "'s that right darlin'?"

"y-yes daddy" you cried, turning your head to look at him, to beg at him "Please" you whimpered "please daddy do something"

It wasn't just heat now, it was burning flames of need pooling between your thighs.

"what about the other part of the homework?" he didn't mind your pleas

"I- I couldn't daddy" you whined, real tears now stinging your eyes "I couldn't do it, not without you daddy- please"

"aw baby" he cooed "my dumb little baby" fake concern filled his features "Show me what you were doing"

"no please daddy just- you do it"

You were going crazy, literally crazy because of how utterly desperate you were.

"stop whining and do as I say" he ordered, his voice colder "or I'm done helping you out"

As if, he laughed in his mind

You obeyed immediately.

You needed him to help you out, there was so much you still had to learn, and you couldn't possibly teach all that to yourself, you couldn't even masturbate for god's sake.

"lay on your back and show me" he said again, as he got up.

He closed your laptop and set in on the floor as you positioned yourself in front of him.

You slowly planted your feet onto the mattress, spreading your legs.

His ravenous gaze fixed on your core.

"go on"

So you did,

One of your trembling fingers traveled to your core, and slowly- oh so slowly- you pushed it inside of you, whimpering lightly.

He didn't say anything, and so you started moving it, trying to mimic what you've seen him so countless times now... and failing miserably.

"I-I can't" an unsatisfied whine fled your mouth

"'f course you can't, not like that" Joel smirked devilishly "Put another finger in"

"b-but"

"just do it"

You tried, you really tried... but you were so scared, it just felt like too much, like you couldn't handle all that

"I-It doesn't fit- it's too much" you cried "Please daddy help me- please please please"

God, but did you ever stop whining?

And so partially because he wanted you to stop, and partially because he just wanted to, he grabbed your waist, pulling you to the edge of the bed, and dropped to his knees.

"It doesn't fit?" he mocked, your fingers pulling out of you just in time for him to plunge two of his own in.

You gasped and moaned and cried all at once.

"Then how come this little pussy can take my whole cock?" he didn't even wait for you to adjust, to stop squirming, before his index finger thrust inside you "How come I can fit three of my fingers in here?"

Real tears fell from your eyes as you moaned and arched your back like a cat.

You tried shutting your legs, but he spread them apart mercilessly, gripping your thighs as his fingers thrust in and out of you at a scathing pace

He'd never been like this, so fast, so mean

You didn't know if you were breathing, you didn't know if you were alive, if you had fainted, you didn't know anything besides how good you were feeling, how much pleasure he was giving you after you'd been starved so long for it.

"is it too much now?" he mocked, watching you fall apart in front of him "because it looks like it ain't" he growled "it looks like i could fit all my fingers in here and it still wouldn't be enough"

You moaned, you moaned so loud your throat hurt.

"'s that what you want, you want to be completely filled like a little slut?"

slut

he'd never called you that- why did he call you that? Why did it make you clench around him? why why why-

"no please daddy" you moaned "'s too much"

"three fingers is enough for this little pussy?" he teased 

"yes daddy yes- I-"

It was like making a deal with the devil, if you weren't specific enough...

"what about this other pretty hole?" he smirked, his fingers slowing as two of his fingers from his left hand reached between your asscheeks, grazing your other hole 

"d-daddy" you just stuttered

"I think we need to start stretching this one darlin'"

You gasped, as he used your moisture to wet his middle finger and trailed downwards

"I- b-but daddy"

"daddy's gonna fuck it one of these days" he interrupted "and we don't want it to hurt do we?"

You tried to calm your breathing as you answered

"y-you mean you want t-to-"

He chuckled, his fingers pushing into your g-spot making your mind just a big dumb mess.

"I mean I'm gonna fuck your ass babygirl" he explained, his finger pushing more and more at the entrance "it's another lesson, you see" he murmured "but I need to prepare you for it- I need to stretch you out real good for my cock"

His cock. Inside there. How on Earth was that gonna happen?

"That's why you're gonna be good and let me put this finger in here" he emphasized his words by pushing slightly "aren't you sweetheart?"

"I-is it gonna hurt?"

"not if you relax" he cocked a brow "are you gonna relax for me?"

"y-yes" you surrendered "yes daddy"

And that was that.

He pushed his finger into you, slowly, even though there was nothing he would have liked more to just thrust it, and hear your shocked cry.

But the moan you let out- oh the moan you let out was worth every moment of his painful self control.

It wasn't particularly pleasant at first, but then... then it was like fire spread through you, and when the fingers in your pussy started moving faster it was like gasoline dunked onto the flames.

it didn't just feel good, it felt... new.

It felt like heaven and hell altogether, and then it felt like... it felt like you needed to pee.

"d-daddy!" you gasped, your hips grinding shamelessly onto him "daddy's not right- I-I"

tears rolled down your temples, and your belly twisted into knots as your walls tightened and tightened around him.

"Shhh" he shushed you "let go" he said, "let go darlin'"

And so you did.

A rainstorm of pleasure putting out all the fire inside you. Pure, divine bliss took over you as you looked at him, crying out and squirming uncontrollably, until it was all over... until you realized what had just happened.

Whatever that was

"o-oh my god" your eyes widened, taking in his drenched shirt, his wet mouth and chin which you didn't even notice he'd put on you as you soaked him to get a taste "I-I'm so sorry daddy- I- I don't know what-"

He was on you before you could blink.

"sorry?" he laughed "what are you sorry about?"

"I-I-"

"you squirted" he grinned "ain't there nothin' wrong with that... the opposite actually"

"S-squirted?"

"that's right"

"and you're not mad?"

"why would I be mad?" he asked, amusement and thrill glossing his eyes "It's just like when daddy comes all over your face babygirl" he explained "You like that, don't you?"

"mh-mh" you nodded

his cock twitched at that

"And I like when you come all over mine baby"

"oh"

"yeah" he chuckled, kissing you deeply "I'm gonna make you squirt every fucking day from now on sweetheart"

You could only smile before he kissed you again

"now how 'bout we do that thing you saw?" he asked, "you wanna ride my cock sweetheart?"

"yes" you nodded eagerly

"then let's get to it, shall we?"

He gave you one last kiss, before he leaned back, undressing completely.

He chuckled as he caught you eating him up with your eyes, but said nothing as he laid on his back.

"c'mere" was all he said, grabbing your waist as you sat on top of him, your core inches away from his cock.

your hands raked his chest, stroking and admiring him, before you looked at his hungry gaze, and asked:

"what do I do?"

His eyes fell to where his cock sat on his belly

"take my dick in your hand"

You did as instructed, mesmerized by how big and beautiful it looked.

"now raise your hips a little, and slide me into you"

You did what he said, but just as he started entering you, you froze, the feeling foreign and not... good.

The woman in the video seemed to enjoy it so much, why can't I?

"you gotta relax" Joel explained, his right hand going to your clit "Let me in" he murmured, drawing circles on your bud "it'll feel good babygirl, just let daddy in"

And so, slowly, slowly you started sinking onto his manhood, whimpers and moans fleeing your throat with every inch added.

Util finally, you had done it.

"o-oh my god" you choked at the feeling.

He was deeper than he'd ever been, that you ever thought possible.

"good girl" he smirked

You didn't even have time to think about what you were doing that your hips were already moving, grinding onto him, bringing heaven to your core.

"O-Oh m-my"

"bounce on it darlin'"

Your hands sat on his chest as you obeyed, feeling his grip on your waist tighten as you raised and lowered onto his cock, moaning as you threw your head back.

now you understood that woman, It felt amazing

And so you started doing it again and again and again, clawing at his chest as groans rumbled from it.

"good god" he grunted "f-fuck"

"it feels so good daddy" you breathed, your lungs burning for oxygen

"yeah? You like riding me, baby?"

"yes" you cried "I like it so much daddy" 

"like having my cock so deep inside ya?"

"god yes" you whimpered 

"yeah?" he mocked, raising his hips to meet yours and forcing a roar out of you

"daddy! I-"

"you're coming already?"

"y-yes daddy I-"

He cocked a brow as he watched you

"think you deserve to?" he asked, "after acting like that before?"

"please" you begged, your voice nothing but a thread "please daddy let me come"

he remained stoic, and you were so close...

"please daddy, I'm sorry I'll be better, I'll be good- I promise"

He smirked now

"you promise?"

A nod, that was all you could offer

"No more questioning me when I'm trying to help?"

"n-no" you shook your head "I'll do whatever you tell me, whatever you want"

That's all he needed

"come on my cock sugar" he ordered "come like the good little girl you are"

You swore you blacked out after that, the pleasure was so deep and so strong it knocked you out.

The next thing you knew, you were laying beside him, your head on his chest, his come leaking out of you.

he'd already told you you needed to tell mom you wanted to take the pill

The words were out of you before you could stop them.

"Y-you were a little... mean before-" you swallowed "when you were using your- fingers"

He groaned internally

"I know babygirl" he cooed, caressing your arms soothingly "but you were acting like a little brat, and I just- I ran out of patience"

"o-oh" 

"I'm here to help you, so it's hard for me when you act like that, understand?"

God how stupid you had been.

He was doing you a favor, and you were acting like a child.

"I-I'm sorry daddy" You pouted, leaning up to kiss him "I'm really sorry I won't do it again"

"thank you sweetheart" he smiled "but I think there's a better way to use that pretty mouth of yours to apologize"

You gulped, as you followed his gaze to his cock

"I'm kind of tired daddy" you murmured

"I know you are" he cooed "but daddy knows best, baby"

"You made me really mad sugar" he explained "And if you want to apologize real good... you're gonna need to suck daddy's cock"

And just like that, you were descending down his body.

[onmykneesformatt]

🍒cherry candy🍒 -m.s.

synopsis: one of your biggest insecurities is matt’s favorite thing in the entire world. so what happens when you go on a shopping spree?

warnings: SMUT, softdom!matt, fem!reader, no use of y/n, semi-public sex, PRAISING OH MY LORDDDTT, unprotected p in v (safe sex is great sex, betta wear a latex), boob play for DAYS, mentions of body dysmorphia, i don’t think anything else???

a/n: this is a lil slow but i'm hoping y'all like it anyways >-<. y’all were HEAVY on the tittyguy!matt shit, so i decided to treat y’all and give y’all a fic😛🍒🌺 ENJOY SLUTS!!🍒🎀🌺

“let’s start at target! they have those billie eilish shirts for her newest album!”

you giggled like a little girl, practically skipping into the target while holding matt’s pinky.

“alright, your choice.” he smiled, happy that you’re finally getting out of the house more.

you’ve been staying inside for the past couple weeks.

he picked up on signs that it was about something someone might’ve said at your family reunion. he loved your body, and he thought anyone who didn’t was insane.

you admitted to him after the first week straight of not having sex or even being half-naked around him while getting dressed everyday.

-

“what’s up with you? you used to love putting on fashion shows every morning while changing, but you haven’t for, what? two weeks now? it’s so cute, and i love it. what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing.”

“it’s something.”

he stood up from the edge of the bed to stand in toe-to-toe with you, your back almost touching the closet door.

“uhm.. i-“

“you can tell me, pretty girl. i wont judge you.”

“mhm, okay. well, do you remember my dads side of the family?”

“oh, god.”

he scoffed, knowing what you were about to say.

“well, at the family reunion, they wouldn���t stop bringing up how i was looking ‘more exposed’ than a college girl should, and kept staring at my boobs. i didn’t take any of it to heart at first, but then my cousins started whispering to eachother. i mean, i get it, i might’ve gained some weight since the last reunion, but it still hurts. and i can only imagine how they felt seeing my thighs and stomach. i went swimming! they practically saw everything they needed to make fun of me!”

he grabbed your waist, pulling you into a hug against his chest while you caught your breath.

“baby. are you kidding? do you know how often i imagine myself between those thighs while i’m at meetings? how i love pressing on your stomach to push you closer against me when i’m behind you? and, oh my god. those boobs. i would lay on them all day if i could. have you ever noticed how when we’re laying down, my hands just ‘happen’ to move up to your chest? or when you’re.. y’know.. on top of me, i use them to relieve ‘stress’?”

he was helpful whenever it came to compliments. more than helpful.

“i know. but almost every girl in my family has the perky, slim look. i don’t think i’m overweight or anything, but compared to them i must look huge.”

matt shook his head at your comment, knowing that no matter what you wore, you looked like a goddess to him.

“you’re not, baby. you’re perfect.”

he backed up, having a cheesy grin on his face. the same face he makes when he’s about to say something funny but kind of corny.

“i mean, you’re like cherry candy to me.”

you giggled, wiping away the light tears on your face.

you felt safe again.

the morning after, you started doing your fashion shows again. matt smiled knowing he was able to bring you so much comfort, and also bring back your confidence.

-

”how about this?” you grabbed the light brown, one-piece bathing suit that had a sheer cover-up attached to it.

“you would look amazing in it. but, i thought you didn’t like one-pieces because of the way they felt on your skin?”

“i don’t,” you looked down, starting to fidget with the price tag. “but, i don’t know. there’s gonna be a lot of girls at this pool party.”

“so?” it slipped matt’s mind. again. he thought you were perfect, so he saw no issue with the way you looked.

“oh.” he remembered. the comments from your dads side of the family shouldn’t have stuck the way they did. he tried to keep his composure, trying not to imagine the way you must’ve acted after they would say things like that. he started to regret not going with you. it was only a few hours, but those few hours affected the next few weeks of your life.

“well, i think you should forget about what people might think. as bad as this may come off, you can’t change anything about your body. i mean, i love it. if you couldn’t tell.”

his hands landed on your waist, pulling you in.

“and, personally, you have the best body i’ve ever seen.” that meant a lot coming from a guy who’s friends with people like madison beer, nessa barrett, and multiple other attractive female influencers. not that you thought he would ever go for them, but he worshipped you. like, worshipped you.

“i love you so much, matt. you have no idea.”

“i love you more.”

~ after about 15 minutes of scouring through the target to find more bathing suits to try, especially two-pieces, you found the dressing room.

matt sat patiently on the bench right outside, waiting for you to walk out.

“uh, matt?”

“yeah, babe?”

“i don’t really wanna, y’know.. walk out there.”

“okay, that’s fine.”

his eyes widened slightly when he saw the opportunity approach.

“do you want me to.. go in there with you?”

you honestly thought nothing of it. i mean, he's your boyfriend. he's seen you naked like a thousand times.

"sure. maybe you can actually help me get this shit off."

you giggled, and he smirked at your offer.

you unlocked the dressing room door, hiding behind it as you cracked it open making sure no one could see you.

as you stepped out from behind the door, matt's jaw dropped at how the beautiful blue bikini hugged you in all the right places. all the right places.

"holy shit."

you accidentally covered your cleavage with your left hand nervously playing with your necklace, while the right rubbed your forehead.

"you think?"

without a word, he grabbed your left hand and threw it to your side. he was drooling at the sight of his favorite thing in the world.

your tits.

"i- uh.. just.. wow."

you blushed, covering your face with both hands.

"stop doing that."

he threw both of your arms down to your side with a stern look on his face.

"sorry, baby. do you.. maybe wanna help me change out of it?"

in an instant, he turned you around and quickly untied your top.

he slid the straps down your shoulders, admiring the soft skin.

his breath was heavy on your ear while he praised you and stared at your chest.

"god. what could i ever do without you? without these?"

his hands slid from your lower belly all the way up to your chest, playing with them like he needed it.

leaving hickeys all over your neck, he slowly turned you to face him. he tugged at the side of the bathing suit bottoms, signaling for you to take them off. after you did, he was quick to proving that you were everything and more.

"jump."

he had you pressed against the wall, your legs around his lower waist and arms slung over his shoulders. he started kissing in the crook of your neck until he reached your chest. he pecked anywhere he could reach, leaving behind little praises.

"i don't deserve you."

"i can't believe you're mine."

"you look more and more perfect every single day."

after about a minute, you both grew impatient.

he slipped his sweatpants and boxer down to his mid thigh. he kept heavy contact with your lips, making sure you knew just how much he craved your sweet taste.

he teased your entrance, slowly slipping his length into you. after adjusting to not only him but also the new position, he started going at a sweet and sultry but quick pace.

he somehow slipped a free hand, squeezing any amount of your tits that he could while kissing your neck. you fell into a high that left claw marks at his upper back, only motivating him more.

"you see how much i care about you? how perfect your- fuck.. your body really is? you had me folded from a bikini."

you giggled while still keeping your heavy breaths.

"try to stay quiet. don't need some rando knowing how great you really are. you're mine. you're my candy."

light groans and quiet sighs both escaped your mouths as you tried to keep from screaming each others names.

"i love you. i love what you give me. i don't deserve it. god- fuck.. i love you."

-

the coast was clear after walking out of the dressing room, both of you sweaty with slightly messy hair.

you walked to the register, smiling and holding matt's hand.

"just these, please."

"great choices, and i'm sure the boyfriend approves."

the cashier giggled while giving a look that made you blush knowing what just happened five minutes prior.

matt pulled you closer to him by your waist.

"trust me, i do."

-

HAHA YALL BETTER BE HAPPYYYYY

now time to move onto subnerd!matt which might be out by next week!!!

bye sluts!!🌺🍒

[wannaeatramyeon]

DG x Reader: Manager and their Idol

8.5k. G/N. Soft, colleagues to lover (guess I love this trope). Masterlists

You had imagined life as a K-Pop idol manager to be much more glamorous.

You pity your young naive self. The one that envisaged schmoozing with stars and rubbing elbows with the movers and shakers, and instead set you on this horrid, lacklustre path.

What you didn't expect was the amount of time playing driver. Carting that stupid pink haired brat around. Waiting on him hand and foot during shoots and interviews, and being at his beck and call.

You have saved his ass more times than you can recall, ran through scripts with him, practised his stupid dances and moves alongside, protected him from unhinged fans and reporters and scavengers.

And yet you can count on one hand the amount of times he has thanked you.

Actually no, it didn't require any hands because he has thanked you exactly zero times for all your early mornings and late nights and for going above and beyond your duty.

Out of desperation, you had asked your boss if you could manage someone else and the request was declined.

"DG has taken a liking to you," she said, tone impressed as if that was something you should be proud of.

"Great," your smile comes out as more of a grimace.

And goddamn, this agency was so stupidly prestigious and the benefits and perks here really are second to none. Just why did Diego fucking Kang have to be their top idol.

.

.

The first time you crossed the threshold into his building, greeting the reception security guard and entering his penthouse keycode like you had been let in on the world's greatest secret, you had tiptoed around like a child in a museum. After all, this was DG's residence. The DG!

You had ooh-ed and aah-ed at every little thing. 

Taking delight in seeing his interior design of choice, the type of candy that he snacks on, the shampoo and conditioner he uses, the way he organises his desk. This is the chair DG sits on to eat. This is the sofa DG lounges on to watch TV. This is the bed he sleeps in, the bath he uses, the toilet he-

Any wide eyed innocence and awe evaporated after your first week working together.

Today, you stab in the entry code and let the door shut with a bang. 

You set his now cold coffee order on the kitchen counter and rifle with practised fingers through his unopened mail to see if there is anything you should draw his immediate attention to. You pick up his discarded clothes from the floor (and for fuck's sake, this suit jacket was on loan) and make your way to his bedroom where tufts of pink hair peeks out from under the cover.

"Good morning," you announce, locating the remote to open the blinds and letting in some sunlight.

Bedsheets rustle behind you.

"Good morning Diego," you repeat and give one warning, "I hope you're decent." With that, you throw the covers back to find the scantily dressed idol glaring up at you.

You remember the days when this sight would have made you weak at the knees. Seeing him half naked, in the flesh, freshly woken up with bedhead and half lidded eyes. It's what most of Korea dreams of, including yourself once upon a time.

Now all you feel is extreme irritation.

"Good morning," you say for the third time, plastering on a saccharine smile that you know DG sees clearly through because it is insincere as hell to anyone with half a brain cell. You let the fakeness shine through anyway.

For a split second, DG frowns as his eyes drop to your lips and then he pretends everything is good. Smiling back prettily, sharp canines on show and stretching. Lifting his arms overhead, showing a good stretch of pecs and abs and the line of muscle in a V pointing like an arrow straight down to his-

You roll your eyes.

"You're late." You throw the covers back over him and stride back towards the door. "We should have left half an hour ago." You leave out the part where you had been waiting downstairs in the car and after an hour of no show and no anything, you stomped your way up to his home.

DG, sensing your mood, adds oil to the fire with a smirk, "Why didn't you wake me then?"

If that idiot bothered to look at his phone, he would see a number of missed calls and unread messages from you.

Whatever.

"Hurry up."

.

.

DG has come across many people like yourself over the years. All cute and bright eyed, way too soft.

He never gave you any special treatment, for better or worse, and assumed that you would eventually burn out or give up and move on to something more worthwhile.

Unfortunately, in a rare turn of events, he had miscalculated.

Of course most people would be starstruck, it's only natural. But he mistook your sincerity and kind smile for ignorance and missed your sharp, observing gaze, and astute mind.

He's impressed, and he really can't remember the last time he was impressed.

In a matter of days of working together, you had managed to cut through the bullshit and within the month got him more compliant and docile than anyone else ever has.

Which should be a huge fucking problem, and raising red flags all over DG's mind.

...Except-

What's really troubling him right now, as he sulks in the passenger seat and you in the driver's, is that you have developed some sort of resistance to his charms.

Maybe a part of him does actually miss the you who he formed the first impression of. Who looked at him in wonder, with the same admiration that everyone else did.

Now that he knows you, he hates that he had thought that initial admiration was insignificant and worthless.

.

.

DG has a stash of candy in the car.

Or more accurately, you keep a stash of candy next to him to a) Shut him up and b) Keep him tolerable.

If DG wasn't so aloof, the fact that he has an incurable sweet tooth (and probably cavities to prove it) would have made headlines as a cute K-Pop fact and likely garnered sponsorship and advertising deals with all sorts of confectionary brands.

You had only found out during your adventures as his manager, rifling through his kitchen drawers trying to find his goddamn phone that he misplaced and you stumbled upon his stash of candy.

It really was a disgusting amount, something you'd expect a gaggle of grade schoolers at Halloween to hoard, not Diego goddamn Kang.

And then you also found out if he's not quiet and haughty in the car, making the atmosphere awkward, he likes to comment on your driving.

Who even sits in the passenger seat next to their 'chauffeur' anyway? He complains about you braking too suddenly and not accelerating fast enough. How you drive like an 80 year old with cataracts, and you're too slow when the light changes to green.

The turn in your relationship happened when you snapped at him to shut the fuck up after losing the final shred of your sanity on a three hour drive.

DG, to your dismay, didn’t miraculously lose his hearing and turns to you as you silently berate yourself for voicing the quiet thoughts out loud.

Although, you're in the deep end now. You're gonna get fired anyway, so if he says anything else you might as well give him a flick on the forehead or a pinch or maybe a punch to the face-

Instead, he laughs.

It's nothing like the laugh you have heard on TV and in interviews. The rehearsed and manicured 'haha' or cool chuckle that suits his shiny persona. It's kinda goofy and a lot endearing.

What's even more endearing is the way he does actually shut the fuck up for the rest of the journey. You like him a lot more after that.

So. You digress.

The candy is a way to keep the sweet toothed maniac quiet. Even if it doesn't work, at least it's harder to make out what insults he's slinging with a lollipop rattling around his mouth.

However, he has never ever shared any with you. Any of the candy that you stock, and pay for.

(That you technically claim back on company expenses, but you're trying to be self righteous here.)

Ever.

In all the months of working with him, he gobbles away happily even if your stomach is growling and you refuse to take any yourself out of principle.

Until-

"Here."

"Huh?"

Taking advantage of your response and open mouth, DG leans into your personal space and feeds you some chewy strawberry something or another (which coincidentally are his least favourite), fingers lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second.

Three things happen in quick succession.

The burst of sugar hits your tongue.

You nearly choke.

You narrowly avoid swerving.

"Careful now," DG grins when you get the car and yourself under control, and glance at him with a scowl.

Good. That proves you're not completely immune to his charms.

.

.

That bastard has now taken it upon himself to feed you candy at every opportunity.

You wonder if he's doing some sort of Pavlov experiment. The sweetness trying to erase any sourness you feel towards him.

It sort of works, and you consider biting his fingers off one of these days.

You hear the crinkling of wrappers, one for him that he pops into his mouth, and one for you that he gives without asking.

You angle your head towards him, and his fingers graze your lips every time.

Neither of you comment on the change but the intimacy drives you a little crazy.

.

.

And DG too.

Because intimacy works both ways and damnit his little gesture to keep the pretty blush on your face has backfired.

The only form of intimacy he knows comes from discreet hookups and low key links. Not someone who is around day in, day out. Or anyone that goes deeper than one night stands and booty calls.

You're there, you're always there. Of course you are, you're his manager.

But today, he feels under the microscope with you standing a couple metres away and keen eyes watching the camera monitor.

It's a no nothing day. Standard schedule where he shoots a fragrance commercial and he exits a pool all wet and sultry, white t-shirt clinging to his muscled body.

Then another scene where he writhes around slightly on a sunbed and eye-fucks the camera.

How it sells a fragrance, he never knows. The mystery of showbiz.

"Cut! More powder!" The director shouts out, the crew springing into action and DG knows exactly why.

He feels strangely embarrassed and flustered, which has manifested into his cheeks being flushed, and god he can't even remember the last time he has been like this.

It’s out of character and he needs to get his head together.

As the make up artist hurriedly dabs on some foundation, you make your way over to him.

"Are you sick?" you ask, concerned and reaching out to feel his forehead with the back of your hand.

"I'm fine," He says, turning away from your attentiveness and staring at a point in the distance.

.

.

With most people, if DG wants them out of sight, they stay out of sight.

But as his manager, and a very competent one at that, it’s harder to get you to leave.

Not that DG wants you to either, don’t get him wrong. 

The only constants he has around him are people who want something from him. And yes, he knows you’re only in his company because you work with him. However, he really can’t doubt the concern he always sees in your eyes. The compassion and empathy even when he makes you want to scream and tear your hair out.

His standoffish demeanour is not new to anyone. It’s part of his appeal to be quite honest. 

Yet he feels bad over the next couple weeks as he turns it up to eleven and tries to create some distance. He registers the hurt on your face as he is extra short with his answers and behaviour.

.

.

Pandering to overinflated celebrity egos and the insane Korean work ethic often leads to after hour shoots and dinner delayed until past midnight.

Honestly, this wreaks havoc on your sleep schedule and your skin.

"Here." You retrieve DG's takeout from the paper bag.

A double portion of delicious fried chicken with a side of kimchi and pickles. It's a change of pace from what most idols order, yet he doesn't give two shits about calories or sodium intake and to add insult to injury, somehow manages to keep his trim figure.

You lament your soggy salad sitting at the bottom. As if it’s not sad enough right now - once you arrive home, the lettuce will be wilting and room temperature and you will eat it in your dimly lit apartment with nothing to keep you company except the sound of the TV.

DG notices you turning to leave his penthouse, and his mouth moves before his brain can.

"Aren't you staying?"

"What?" You double take at the question.

DG's company is usually worse than your lonely meal for one. 

He’s annoying and you frequently want to slap him, but how he has been with you lately has been troubling and you actually feel a sense of relief at his offer.

(You had wondered if you might have been getting sacked up until this moment.)

Nevertheless, in all your time working alongside, you have never had a proper meal one on one together. Nothing more than you driving with one hand and the other hastily shoving a burger into your mouth as he looks on in disgust.

You would have dwelled on this more, wondering what's changed, what’s happened, but then-

"I'll share." DG nudges the box towards you, and the delicious scent of deep fried, battered goodness wafts along with it it

All your misgivings and your salad is forgotten.

.

.

Almost.

No, you were wrong.

Eating with DG, without any distractions such as traffic to navigate or other boisterous colleagues around, is unnerving. Disarming.

His haughtiness remains, but how haughty can someone be when munching on a drumstick.

All frostiness from the past weeks melts away as you both eat your way through his chicken.

He’s talking more tonight than you have heard in a while.

You find him funny, and really quite bitchy. Which you did know all along except it's much funnier now his slanderous comments aren't directed at you.

And has he always looked at you with such a piercing gaze? So intensely focused on what you have to say. Even if you're just complaining about your boss, blurring your lines of professionalism, he gives you his full attention.

You really can't remember the last time you have been in each other's company like this. 

You loathe to admit that even with what an asshole he is, DG's shine hasn’t dulled enough for you that you don't understand the appeal.

.

.

Leaning forward, DG whispers into your ear.

To anyone else, it looks like an over-affectionate idol with their manager. If they could hear his words, "I'm going to kill you," they would think otherwise.

Ok, so this one is your fault.

The good times have to come to an end and maybe you should have been more careful with his pride and joy - some ridiculously overpriced and over-specced vehicle.

Taking advantage of the clear blue Seoul skies, the pink haired menace was the one who drove you today in his fancy imported sports car, but the speed limits and the rest of the traffic was not on his side.

Already running late, even for him, he parked somewhere convenient and illegal then passed you the keys, leaving you stranded on the sidewalk, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, as he strode off to meet his music producer and choreographer and left you to park his baby elsewhere.

Why he entrusted you with it, you're not sure.

You would have done it anyway though, because when else are you going to have an opportunity to drive a supercar, if your boss didn't call at that moment. Questioning your expenses and DG's schedule and confusing you about the fitting at a fashion house and hair styling appointment that you knew like the back of your hand but when someone is so confidently incorrect, you start to doubt yourself.

By the time you got off the phone after pacing up and down the street and checking and double checking DG's timetable, you finally make your way back to the car-

And see it in the middle of being compounded.

You had begged and pleaded with the two men who were having none of it and you left, tail between your legs, to beg and plead with the other man who you knew would also have none of it.

Damn, you hate it when you prove yourself right in these instances.

You know DG won't really kill you, but he will likely make your life hell for the next couple weeks.

.

.

A normal person being pissed off at you would probably result in the silent treatment until tempers cool down.

DG does the opposite. Sort of.

He takes pleasure in making things as awkward for you as possible, until you're squirming in your seat trying to stay professional, thinking about your job and your rent and your bills; or torn between wanting the ground to swallow you up.

Around other people, your boss, your colleagues, his colleagues, he sidles up to you all smiles and soft looks. Slips purposely into banmal, and then oopsy, pretends that he didn't mean to be so informal with you around others.

Gossip soon stirs about your and DG's close relationship, if there's something else going on. Only you can see the mischief in his eyes and the malice in his smile and you think about yanking him by the ear and demanding to know what he is playing at.

Alone, he denies any sort of miscreant behaviour. Barely listening to you complaining and snapping at him. Ending with him outright ignoring you and you fume even harder.

This time, you're not sure the punishment even fits the crime. 

Any guilt soon dissipates when his car is returned in perfect condition within a couple days but his performance lasts for weeks.

.

.

Teasing you has always been fun for DG - when your cheeks dust angrily with pink and your eyes burn with fire.

The equivalent of a boy pulling a girl’s pigtails in the school yard.

.

.

Meetings with HNH Group usually do not involve you. If it does, at most you are waiting in the car.

Luckily, there are also an assortment of cafes and restaurants within a stone's throw and it gives you some time to debrief and catch a breather from following DG's hectic schedule.

The downside is you're never sure if a two hour meeting will be condensed to fifteen minutes or if a quick catch up with Charles Choi and other Executives turns into an all nighter.

There's been days where you have ordered a meal, then had to abandon it with a sigh and a longing look as you spot DG striding out of the building looking pissed off that you're not already there, or stayed in the vehicle with the engine running and your stomach rumbling as short appointments overshoot.

Maybe this is another consequence from DG being petty and irate with you for getting his car towed - you're left snoozing at the steering wheel of your runaround, the idol standard-issue luxury minivan, waiting for his return.

It's far too late in the evening for anywhere to be open, only the fluorescent lights of convenience stores and glare of the HNH logo illuminates the streets.

DG opens the sliding door, climbs into the back and slams it hard enough to jerk you awake and rattle the entire van.

He’s sitting by himself in the back, which is odd enough in itself.

As you blink away the dregs of sleep, in the rearview mirror, you notice the stiffness in his shoulders and the tightness in his jaw. His eyes stare vacantly out the window. DG is clearly upset about something, enough to crack through his aloof veneer.

"Are you ok?" You don't get a response, not even a passing glance.

Obviously something has gone wrong with the HNH Group meeting and the stress has manifested.

You wrack your brains thinking of something that might cheer up this asshole and you think of the only thing that improves your mood when you're on the verge of a breakdown.

(Usually due to the aforementioned asshole in your current presence). 

"Tteokbokki and beer?" You offer. It’s past your bedtime but a sulky DG for the rest of the week will also ruin your week too.

DG briefly looks at you before going back to staring at the window. It’s not a no.

You don’t get home until past 4am that night. 

At your favourite late night hole-in-the-wall, you eat far more tteokbokki than DG. On second thoughts, you don’t remember him eating any at all. You’re talking and downing beers to fill the silence, trying to perk up this silly celebrity. Loose lipped and spilling far more details than you would if you were sober, with him seated opposite and sipping on a soda. 

As the night ticks along, he thaws and a small smile settles on his face watching you gesticulate and ramble about your life.

You don’t get home until past 4am that night-

With DG driving, piggybacking you up to your apartment, and tucking you into bed.

.

.

DG can’t stop thinking of the weight of you on his back, arms slung over his shoulders, legs at his waist and his hands gripping your thighs.

You slurring drunkenly into his ear as he climbs the stairs in your building. It’s mostly nonsense. He can’t make out your words but remembers your breath tickling his skin.

And when he wraps your duvet around you, the brief moment of lucidity in your eyes as you look at him, softer than you ever have, you tell him, “Thanks Diego.”

Diego.

.

.

Nothing changes between the two of you after this. Not really.

You still find him an enormous thorn in your side. Incredibly stuck up and haughty and you continue to want to throttle him on a weekly basis but you are immensely grateful for him not leaving you a passed out heap on the sidewalk.

You’re in the middle of chastising him once again, dragging him out of bed as he is running late and being an absolute dick about it. Taking it easy as if he has all the time in the world. 

Well of course he does. He’s not the one that will be getting an earful from your boss or on the receiving end of the production crew’s complaints, as if trying to manhandle and cart this manchild around is easy.

“Diego Kang, I swear to fucking god-”

"James." He says, interrupting you as he picks out and pulls an eye-wateringly expensive jumper over his head.

"What?"

"Call me James when it's just us.” He checks out his outfit in the mirror, seemingly satisfied with it, before moving onto his hair. “James Lee. That's my real name."

DG, or James Lee, keeps his eyes on his reflection. Inspecting his non-existent roots, styling his fringe to make it fall just so and applying a liberal amount of hair product.

Nonchalant and casual even as he offers something desperately personal about himself.

"James," you say, trying out the sound for yourself. A name that seems at odds with his loud K-Pop shell but you imagine a time before the fame and the celebrity and the pink hair and it somehow fits.

"James," you repeat, and receive a small smile in return. Then it drops as you add, “If you don’t get your ass in the car in the next five minutes I will kill you.”

.

.

“James,” you think to yourself before you drift off to sleep that night. 

How peculiar.

“James, James, James.”

.

.

Celebrities these days are multi-hyphenates.

DG is an Idol-CEO-Actor, or at least trying to add the last one onto his resume. On looks alone, he would have already gotten his foot through the door. Add on his reputation and popularity, he is drowning in offers.

What you personally dislike more with K-dramas scenes though, is how long things take. How much it revolves around other actors and their managers whereas DG being in the studio or filming a music video is pretty much all him.

This K-drama is supposed to be the next big thing. 

With the biggest names attached, including DG who is making a cameo. The cameo that was also scheduled to be filmed five hours ago but you have both just been lurking in his dressing room since.

Along with some measly snacks and refreshments, which the crew has been kind enough to provide. 

However, the snacks are all but gone (thanks to you) and the refreshments are dwindling and there is no end in sight.

DG, or James, as you have started to call him in your head, is on his phone. He’s always on his phone. Scrolling through news articles, responding to important emails and messages.

There’s only so much news or celebrity gossip you can take. You have exhausted your own social media feeds and you have spent far too much money on your gacha games and the guilt has set in.

You twiddle your thumbs on the sofa next to him as he takes no notice of your presence and you decide to rest your eyes. 

Why not anyway? DG doesn’t need anything right now, work won’t be interrupting you, and there’s nothing for you to do. Just for a minute or five. Until someone from the production team knocks on the door and announces that it’s time for his scene.

DG side-eyes you when he notices your breath start to slow and deepen. Falling asleep on the job, really?

Then you let out a snore before smacking your lips together a couple times and he holds back a snort. He reasons that he should let you have some time to rest. After all, you’re the one that drives him around, his life is in your hands everyday and tiredness kills.

He’s on his phone for a few more minutes, reading through more emails on PTJ Entertainment and out of the corner of his eye he notices you drooping.

Body slowly slumping to slouch over him, until your head makes contact with his shoulder and you’re snoozing happily on your newfound pillow.

It’s equal parts inappropriate and cute.

Ugh, DG is 99% sure you’re drooling on him and the wardrobe department isn’t going to be happy when he returns the outfit.

Either way, that’s not going to be his problem. He adjusts minutely, makes it just a touch more comfortable for you and continues to scroll.

.

.

You wake up to a wetness by your mouth, and to your horror, DG smirking down at you.

.

.

Despite none of this being your fault, you apologise to everyone about having to reschedule DG’s music video shoot due to the previous day’s K-drama delays.

To your relief, the music video goes swimmingly and without a hitch, and the production is wrapped up on time. 

You’ll happily bet that his new song will go straight to No.1. If not, then at least the sensual music video will guarantee DG remains top of mind for weeks. 

You’re updating your boss and even she seems to be pleased.

"This is just work." DG interrupts as you're mid call.

You look up at him, brows furrowed.

Holding your hand to your phone to mute the speaker, you whisper, "I know."

"Good," and he walks away leaving you as confused as ever.

It's not the first time you have seen him shoot an MV, which thank the heavens is so much more efficient than bloody k-dramas, and also not the first time that there's been scenes that emulate an intimate moment. Lips nearly brushing together. Hands roaming bodies under fake rain.

Even if DG notices that you're watching the scene, eyes glazed over and bored, he still felt the urge to explain to you that there's nothing between you and the leading lady in the video.

Once out of sight of everyone, he facepalms himself for his ridiculousness.

.

.

You’re right, and you absolutely love it when you’re right.

The song goes straight to No.1 and holds that position for weeks, fending off competition from boy bands and girl groups and other solo artists. Apparently it’s going to be the song of the summer.

The music video also breaks records for being the most watched within 24 hours.

DG only reviews it once for post-production checks and finds it just fine.

There’s something he can’t quite put his finger on that seems off with it.

He wonders what it would look like if it was you starring opposite him.

.

.

“Where on earth is he?” You grit your teeth and grip harder onto the umbrella that is threatening to be swept away by the wind.

And another thing with being DG’s manager: it’s fine if he’s late but not if it’s you.

(Although to be fair, this instance of him being late is likely due to this particular music producer he’s meeting with enjoying the sound of his own voice.)

You were running late exactly one time in the past, during the first couple days of managing him, when the skies opened and drenched the earth. 

Heavens forbid DG’s perfect, beautiful, flawless hair is ruined by the rain. 

It’s not like he looked like a drowned rat. The paparazzi caught him in a wet t-shirt, fabric clinging to his abs and his pink hair slicked back stylishly. Even the goddamn raindrops were running fashionably down his high cheekbones and dripping off his pout.

For the next week, the tabloids and internet forums went wild with how hot he looked. 

(Who knows, maybe that was the inspiration for his fragrance commercial.)

Nevertheless, DG was displeased and it made its way back to your boss how displeased he was.

Ever since, you have been the unfortunate soul waiting in all manners of weather for him. Rain storms, blistering sun, freezing snow.

Today, it’s your favourite. Rain. You shiver against the elements trying to take shelter under the building entrance canopy, the wind whipping the downpour every which way and you’re getting soaked regardless of how you angle your umbrella.

“Hurry up, DG.”

You check the time over and over. He would be early to his next appointment if he exited the building now. 

…On time.

…On time if the traffic was in your favour.

…Late, but not terribly so.

…Fashionably late.

… Late enough to piss everyone off in the room.

Shit. Just as you begin to fret, wondering if something has happened to him-

Clicks and flashes from cameras alert you to his royal highness finally making an appearance, ready to exit the studio and making his way over to the car.

He materialises by your side, and you mutter a familiar phrase to him. 

“You’re late.” 

It’s a mantra you’re tired of repeating, but he relishes if the amused grin is any indication.

Without a word, he takes off his trench coat and drapes it around your shoulders. His right hand covers yours over the umbrella handle, left wrapping around your waist as he guides you through the throng of reporters and fans.

“What are you doing?” You hiss under your breath. 

You can imagine the optics now from the papers and your boss. It looks… Well. Not terrible but not the best.

“You’re soaked,” is all DG provides, accompanied with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. 

He opens the driver’s door for you before he climbs into the passenger’s side.

.

.

Thank goodness for your gift of the gab.

He’s being a gentleman, you tell everyone that would listen. Isn’t this what Korea wants? An idol with manners and who looks after everyone? Is empathetic and caring?

Think how well it would resonate with the female demographic, who wants a boyfriend like this! The older boomer demographic, who thinks none of the young ‘uns have any manners anymore!

Your boss isn’t convinced until the advertising offers for umbrella companies roll in.

.

.

Truth be told, DG doesn’t know what possessed him to do that. Especially in front of cameras.

Though, it’s not like he could just let you get even more drenched could he? You’re standing there, looking pitiful and he was just going to let you hold the umbrella over him when he should be the one taking care of you-

Hold on.

DG frowns at himself.

Damn.

.

.

James Lee has never looked after anyone besides himself. You need to look after yourself if you are to survive this dog eat dog world. To make it atop the Pre-Generation, the First Generation and now the Second.

He had unfathomably high expectations of himself (that he managed to achieve) and low expectations for relationships (that hadn’t been proven wrong yet).

People have flitted in and out of the chapters of his life, no-one staying around for long. Definitely no-one staying around long enough to know him, for him to grow comfortable with. 

Perhaps it has been the forced closeness that has caused him to let his guard down. Cabin fever, in a sense.

But James Lee, Diego Kang, has himself also been around long enough to know there’s more to you and he wants more of you.

.

.

Finding reasons to spend time together isn’t difficult. Actually, finding reasons to spend time apart would be much harder.

You both get on with your jobs and your duties, even as the closeness grows day by day.

And every time when you’re alone and you call him James, his heart grows fonder.

.

.

Out of all the seats available in his apartment, James lounges next to you, long legs draping over yours.

It's another night in together.

These seem to be happening with increasing frequency. DG at least used to keep up appearances, networking with his fellow celebrities.

Parties where you used to look at him with distaste as starlets surrounded him, award shows that he couldn't care less about as you hung around in the background.

Now he prefers to stay in with you, using work as a thin excuse. Studying lyrics that he has already memorised, going over dances that are long ingrained in him.

"You're not going to her party?" You ask, you were sure this fan-favourite and DG were an item or had history. At the very least, the who's who of the industry always attended her gatherings.

"No," his eyes continue roving over the lines.

Then when you thought the conversation was done, he looks over the top of his paper, eyes sparkling with playfulness, "I prefer being here with you."

Oh. Your breath catches in your throat.

You think you might never breathe normally again.

.

.

No, that’s a lie. Any opportunities for rose-tinted glasses has long passed by. You both know each other too well for that.

You breathe perfectly fine. Actually, this morning you are taking deep breaths to try and centre yourself. 

It’s not working. 

“You’re always fucking late,” you snap, giving in to your anger.

Sometimes you think it is your fault for not watching over DG 24/7. That instead of going back home, you should just live with him so you can shake him awake when he is supposed to get up instead of when he wants to.

And does it hurt him to look the least bit contrite at making your life a misery? 

Why does he have to look so smug with a lollipop stick hanging out his mouth? Seriously, between all the rushing around this morning, when did he find time to look for goddamn candy?

“For fuck’s sake, James.” You’re speed walking towards his front door, looking at the Maps app on your phone and miss his smile at you snarling his name. 

You’re already running behind and every route to the recording studio is red due to roadworks or an accident or just plain ol’ congestion. “Shit!”

Your finger jabs at the elevator button multiple times.

“It’s not going to get there any quicker if you do that,” DG speaks lowly into your ear and you get the urge to pinch him.

Instead of prodding some more at the button, you turn around and prod him in the chest.

“You’re going to get me fired one of these days,” You growl. “It’s fine for you, Diego goddamn Kang, the star who is pretty much untouchable. I’m not. I’m replaceable. There’s a million people who would take my job-”

DG snatches your hand, holds it still. “You’re not replaceable.” Then adds with an infuriating grin, “So what if we’re late.”

The minivan is skipped, and his answer to your problem is his other pride and joy. A motorbike that looks far too aggressive and a complete death trap.

“I’m not getting on that,” you say as DG hands you leathers that materialised from god-knows-where and a spare helmet.

“Fine,” he says, shrugging and throwing a leg over. “I don’t think your boss will be happy.”

“Fuck!”

.

.

If this was any other situation, you would be acutely aware of yourself pressed up against DG’s back. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Except all you can focus on is that you’re going to fucking die. You think you might be screaming.

“Stop screaming!” His disembodied voice calls out. Oh. Turns out you are.

For some reason, DG had thought the helmets with built in speakers and mic would be better for communication. Fun, even. Frankly, you’re just giving him a headache.

(Not to mention the fact that he bought a spare helmet at all. And leathers that he thought would be exactly your size.

He had never rode with anyone before and you certainly had never expressed any interest. Yet he passed by a motorcycle store when he had rare time to spare, and visited on a whim.

If he dwelled on this anymore, DG is sure his headache would turn into a full blown migraine.)

Later that night, when the ringing in his ears finally subside, he will still think about the way you held him.

.

.

When public opinion is on your side, then that’s fantastic. Amazing. You tend to get away with all sorts of things.

When it’s not, the truth can become muddied and there’s mental gymnastics from all sides painting you as the villain.

Fortunately, public opinion generally works in DG’s favour, especially in the case of his stalker who got sentenced for more jail time than if she was harassing a normal person, but not long enough to account for all the distress she has caused.

Such is the criminal justice system.

Her date of release looms large and near. DG, despite his talent and fighting prowess, realises certain traumas can’t be erased.

He grows on edge. Skittish. Snaps at any and everything. It’s noted by journalists. Other managers gives you questioning looks

You don’t miss his change in demeanour. To you, the reason behind it is obvious. 

You’ve heard about this case, everyone has. It dominated headlines for almost a month: the crazy sasaeng fan who believed herself to be DG’s girlfriend before moving onto another poor soul and was finally arrested.

As he spirals, nothing you do or say to him manages to get more than a nod or a frown. You try to offer that she had fixated on someone else before she was arrested, hoping that was a small consolation to him. And though he managed a weak smile, the black cloud still hangs over him.

In the end, you pack your bags and arrive at DG’s one evening. Instead of letting yourself in like you usually would, you ring the buzzer, smile into the door camera and tell him “It’s me!”

The door swings open to reveal DG looking perplexed (and worse for wear). Head tilting, curious and inquisitive when he sees your suitcase and carrier bags full of snacks.

“I’m staying for a while.”

“According to who?”

You barge past him anyway with a grin.

.

.

The date of his stalker’s release arrives and passes without drama.

You miss your home comforts but it makes you happy to see DG’s mood genuinely improve as the days go on.

The luxurious oversized mattress, fancy spa shower, and jacuzzi bathtub also helps to make your stay a bit more bearable.

Not to mention each morning DG actually cooks breakfast for you. Turns out he’s not bad at all at playing a househusband, and it’s also maddening how he manages to get up each day before you when he hasn’t got any place to be.

“Thanks James,” you say, when he presents you with a home cooked meal and his smile grows a bit more each day.

.

.

Peace doesn’t last.

Blurry photos of you both leaving and entering DG’s apartment at all hours of the day and night make the front page of certain news sites.

Headlines scream with leading questions. 

“Relationship beyond Manager and Idol?”

“How a Manager seduced their Idol.” 

“Who is this mystery person that has tamed DG?”

Why anyone deemed it newsworthy is beyond you. You’ve been to his apartment a million times. 

Yes, you suppose the closeness of DG and yourself in the photos can look a little suspect. 

In this particular one, it looks like you have your hand caressing his chest when in actual fact you were shoving him away for a dismissive comment he made.

And the other photo, of his hand on your wrist, was actually him dragging you away when he spotted a herd of fans in the distance.

More pictures unveil themselves.

A snapshot of you driving and DG feeding you candy.

You and DG, whispering intimately in your ear as his supercar is being towed away in the background.

You red faced and drunk as DG piggybacks you outside your building.

His jacket wrapped around you, hand on your waist and angling the umbrella over you.

Him smiling down at you (ok, you admit that you didn’t realise how soft that looks to other people.)

Finally an exceptionally pixelated image of you both on his bike, that could be anyone really.

Unfortunately, your opinion is in the minority as the articles are inundated with comments and furious, tearful fans shrieking that their idol is betraying them. 

Simply unhinged.

.

.

The speculation grows. You’re damned if you do deny anything, damned if you don’t. Your talent agency puts out an official statement.

To your ire, the statement is ‘no comment’ rather than anything more definitive. You glare at James when you find out, suspecting he has something to do with this.

He gives you a shrug, and a familiar look of mischief.

To his credit, he doesn’t leave you completely to fend for yourself. You stay off social media for your sanity, and when the paparazzi hounds you, he's the one with his arm around you, cutting a path through the crowd and shielding you.

It adds fuel to the fire. Does nothing to help your case. 

Still, you can’t help feeling safe and secure with his hand guiding you - holding onto your waist, round your shoulder, or simply - 

Your hand in his.

.

.

Outside of the conference room, where DG is wrapping up a press release for his newest album and nothing else, a reporter slinks out and approaches you.

You’re used to being on the other side of the conversation. Part of the staff, herding DG through camera flashes and questions being thrown at him though there was always some sort of camaraderie. Both parties just trying to do their job with deadlines and targets to hit.

This time you just feel a weariness as you see this person making a beeline towards you.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They say, holding out their hand for a shake which you take with reluctance.

“Hi.”

A voice recorder is thrusted into your face, and you automatically take a step back. “Hope you don’t mind, but I just have a couple questions for you.”

“Um...”

“There’s been lots of sightings of you and DG together-”

You open your mouth to argue-

“Can you confirm your relationship with him?”

A vacant smile settles onto your face. It’s a practised expression where you follow all the cues to be polite and professional even as internally you wish to be anywhere but here. “I’m his manager.”

“Are you two together? Romantically?”

“I’m his manager.” You repeat through gritted teeth, and you’re surprised to hear your voice calm and collected.

“Is that a no? Or-”

“What even is this question?” You scoff, ignoring the way your cheeks heat, and refusing to partake in this circus a moment longer. “This is over.”

You manage to at least catch them looking apologetic, before you stride off into a corner to take a deep breath.

.

.

DG, much more adept and experienced at fending off questions, had finished the conference early and caught the entire exchange, watching you both with a bemused look.

Walking towards you with quiet, measured footsteps, his hand settles onto your lower back as he murmurs your name.

He bites back a laugh at your small, startled jolt.

DG tilts his head to signal ‘this way’. You give him a look but follow him regardless. Trailing behind, moving far away from other prying eyes. 

Up a flight of stairs, through multiple fire doors, turning left then right then another right then maybe a left. It doesn’t matter. You’re hopefully lost and decide to just put your faith in this wretched idol.

He finally seems to find what he’s looking for as he reaches an empty corridor; stopping mid-step and you collide into his back.

“Ack!” You exclaim, hitting the solid wall of muscle.

He lets out a huff of laughter and whirls around to face you, noting how cute your look of surprise is.

How strange though, that this is his current position. But is it really unexpected that the person that has been by his side for months has finally worked their way into his heart and has somehow learned to read him when no-one else could?

If he really thinks about it, yes actually, it is unexpected. No-one else has managed to grow close to him before. As James Lee, as Diego Kang. Birds of a feather or opposites attract or everything in between, no-one has got him like you do. 

There’s still so much more to tell and show you but… First things first.

Fidgeting, you shift your weight from one foot to another, growing self-conscious waiting for DG to talk, only to find him staring intently at your face. Impatient, you give in and speak first.

“What is it?”

“...”

“Diego-”

“James.” He cuts in abruptly, “It’s just us right now. Please.”

You blink in shock at the please and correct yourself at his insistence, lowering your voice so it doesn’t echo down the empty hallway. “James, are you ok?”

“Better than ever,” he says, a smirk now pulling at his lips.

You register his change in mood and narrow your eyes, wondering where this is going. “Why are we here?”

“When the reporter asked if we were together, you said you’re my manager.”

“I am your manager.”

“But you are interested in me.”

It’s not a question. DG, no James, says it like a fact and there’s no doubt in your mind or his. You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. Open it once more-

What.

You feel some cogs in your brain misfiring and all you can manage is a feeble, “Huh?”

“You told them you’re my manager, but didn’t say no to being with me.”

“...”

“So. What do you think?”

“Of what?”

“Us.”

“You like me. Tell me that I’m wrong.”

You take a step back. “...”

Another step. “...”

“Tell me you don’t want this.”

And your back hits the wall with an oomph.

DG slaps his hand on the wall beside your head, bends at the waist and leans his weight forward until he’s eye level with you. “Tell me and I promise I’ll stop.”

“...”

You’re cornered and he searches your face for a response.“Y/N?”

“...”

Fuck. Fuck!

How on earth are you supposed to respond when he looks at you like this. When his face is millimetres from yours and his breath is on your skin and his dark eyes pierces into your soul, pupils blown deliciously wide.

With his stupid pink hair and his fringe flopping, framing his face and his high cheekbones.

The stupid canines of his poking out that gives him so much character and is so hot it hurts when he flashes it accompanied with an arched brow and an arrogant smile.

His stupid pout and his stupid lips, that you know is constantly moisturised with a fancy overpriced lip balm to make it look kissable for the cameras.

And Jesus Christ, you hate to admit it but they do. They 100% do because somewhere in the back of your brain you always knew they look kissable but it has been often clouded by just simply how annoying and bratty you found him.

Except right now you don’t find him annoying or bratty at all.

Even as he’s confessing his feelings with complete confidence, no unease, no anxiety or doubts, because he always had a way of worming under your skin and he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

Damn it all.

“Kiss me,” you tell James, and he isn’t surprised at all by your reaction, face lighting up at your confirmation.

He shifts. 

Hand coming up to cup your cheek. He rubs his thumb twice over your skin, savouring you any way he can before tilting your face towards his. His lips at first brushes against your forehead. Leaves a trail down your nose, peppers both cheeks and then your chin. 

He draws back once, takes in your sweet face and gives you a smile so soft it makes your heart hurt.

Then finally, after wanting this for so long, presses his lips against yours.

Diego Kang, James Lee, tastes like candy and sugar.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Being the leader of your platoon and fucking you at the same time isn't something Simon wants paraded around, for both of your benefit as trouble could come from such a relationship. But keeping it a secret has become a problem as you've been out on a mission for a couple months with no physical contact to be had. The moment you return Simon has to have you...even though you are both filthy as fuck.

Authors Note: Nothing can stop me from getting at this man... Nothing.

Word Count: 5 k

Warnings:

Adjusting himself lower in his seat to get more comfortable, Simon spread his legs a little wider while stretching one out straight to hide and accommodate the growing bulge between his legs. The stiflingly humid air of the cabin inside the aircraft was not helping his predicament. Hungry eyes surveyed his team inside the plane one by one, moving from face to familiar face until he landed on the one he had been secretly looking for: yours. 

On the opposite side, towards the cockpit of the aircraft was where you sat as that starving wolf caught you in his sights. The cool and collected Lieutenant shifted again restlessly as his gaze lingered on your face with only one thing going through his mind, the same thing that had been there the entire fucking duration of this mission. Lucky for him that his mask afforded him the luxury of keeping his eyes covered in shadow so that he could watch you without looking too suspicious to those around.

Your lips upturned into a smile as you chatted with the private to your left, passing the time until you all returned to base and Simon could not help but feel a twinge of jealousy. It should be him that you were sitting next to, close enough that he could reach a sneaky hand across his lap to squeeze onto your thigh or lean in and whisper all the filthy things he wanted to do with you the second you both got the chance, but secrecy was the name of the game so that wasn’t an option.

Still, it wasn’t as if he was complaining about getting to look at you from afar. As he watched you go about business as usual, his mouth began to salivate as his amber eyes followed the curve of those full, plump lips through their movements as you spoke, that gnawing hunger growing stronger by the second as he wondered how fucking good they would taste against his own once he got them again. So lost in his own thoughts, daydreaming scenarios of how it would happen he became oblivious to the world around him.

Suddenly that cold awareness that he was being watched brought him back into the interior of the plane and as he refocused his eyes he was met with yours staring straight back at him. Taking your bottom lip into your mouth you bit it coyly before shooting him a smirk sly enough to match a foxes, causing the Lieutenant's pulse to quicken in his veins. Turning his head as he cleared his throat, he tried to focus on something else, but his heartbeat continued to pound heavy in his chest.

Were you thinking the same things? Were you burning for him just as much as he was burning for you?

It’d been a hot fucking minute since he had felt your touch and the ache in his cock was beginning to keep him at a constant level of agitation that left him with a short fucking fuse his team was beginning to notice. Sure his hand was fine, it did the trick in a pinch, but to really sate the serpent he needed your moist, tight cunt to bury himself in and the agony of having to wait to have you all to himself had been on his mind even more lately.

Ten weeks, ten goddamn weeks that he could look, but not touch; fantasize, but not indulge, crave, but never sait and fuck was it damn near impossible now to dismiss those visions of you breathless and naked, whimpering under him in his bed that ran rampant through his mind. Focusing on the task at hand was top priority of course, but Simon was a master at multitasking  and being in such close proximity to all that temptation while trying to remain professional and hide away the fact that you two were involved had caused his mind to constantly wander back to you.  

Who gave you the goddamn right to be such a delicious distraction? 

It had taken a herculean effort on his part to divert his gaze and steady his mind and though he had a modicum of success up until today, he found that he could not maintain that calm any longer. The mission had been lucrative and through the haze of adrenaline, something inside Simon had awoken in a fury so severe that enough was enough; he had to have you as soon as physically possible no matter what.

There was no more time.  

ETA ten minutes till return to base the update hit his headset and Simon took a deep breath; the agonizing torture was almost over and the gears began to turn on just how he would get you alone because waiting a minute more than necessary was no longer an option. Careful not to draw attention, he adjusted the crotch of his pants with his hand; good thing his uniform was on the baggy side or else he would definitely be giving a fucking show right about now. 

The second the craft landed everyone was itching to get out of that stifling atmosphere and make their way outside where they could catch a breeze. As the back of the plane lowered, people were already scrambling out and into the evening sun. One by one Simon watched as his squad deployed from the craft until only a few stragglers remained, one of which was the exact person he needed. 

“Specialist Y/L/N,” he called out to you as he made his approach, trying to meter his gruff tone so that he would not sound too excited while there were others still present.

“Sir?” you returned in proper fashion as you turned to face him, heart skipping a beat. 

So close, so fucking close. Just a little more and he’d have you again. “Need to have a word with ya, in private,” he stated plainly.

You gave him one short nod. “Of course, sir,” you said, giving the private you were speaking with the go ahead to leave you two alone and off they went with the last of your team to leave you both in seclusion completely unaware of what was really going on.  

…as if they couldn’t see how the Lieutenant’s gaze always seemed to linger a bit too long on you or how whenever you two were near there was a noticeable tension in the air.

Simon clocked the area, watching as the last of the privates and other personnel moved on further into the base and as soon as he was sure you two were alone, he closed the respectful distance between your bodies as his hand clasped on the buckle of your uniform to pull you in close.

“It’s been a long fuckin’ while, sweetheart,” he said, that gruff tone dripping with need.

You stared back up at him, the heat perking in your cheeks as your heartbeat thudded in your ears. “Too long,” you agreed.

“Gettin’ harder and harder to contain myself when I’ve gone that long without ya,” his fingers slid around just over the inner edge of your waistband causing tiny pinpricks of cold sweat to tingle along the back of your neck. “All ‘a this just out of my fuckin’ reach; too many eyes watchin’ us constantly that I can’t even touch ya without some bastard catchin’ us. It’s been hell.”

“I’ve been squeezing my thighs together all flight, but…” you admitted before you turned your head to the right and then the left before coming back to his face, “...seems we’re alone now.” Your breath hitched in your chest as you waited for what he was gonna do next. 

The day was warm, but as you both stood there with weeks worth of pent up sexual tension the air seemed to thicken until it was too hard to breathe. Simon paused as if weighing out something in his mind, his eyes drifting down your face slowly along four distinct points to stop and focus on your mouth before coming back up and meeting your gaze.

Without warning that 6’4” wall of muscle was on your body and shoving you by the hips until your back hit against the interior wall of the plane. Lightning fast, Simon wrenched the bottom of his mask up just over his nose, catching your chin in his grasp as he jerked it up and met your lips with a fiery intensity that instantly made your knees buckle and your mind short circuit. Sloppy embraces of his mouth against yours aggressively stole kiss after burning kiss while a thick layer of light brown stubble that covered his cheeks and along his jawline, a product of weeks without a razor at hand, pricked against your face as he pressed his firmly against your own. 

All you could taste was the sharp bite of tobacco as his thick tongue thrust past your lips and into the interior of that warm, wet cavern where it slithered over your tongue and towards your throat. Mouth open, eyes closed, he completely filled you full until you nearly choked on that determined bit of muscle, a kiss that was all encompassing and rough. His cracked lips ground over the surface of yours until they were raw and bruised to match.

With his body pressed into the curves of your own, you repositioned your right leg so that your thigh nestled up into the crotch of his pants. God he was hard, throbbing and straining into the meat of your thigh. He grunted heavy into your mouth as his grip tightened on your jaw, tilting his hips inward so that he could ground his bulge against your leg, his cock so stiff he was about to rip a hole straight through the fabric. 

“Can’t wait, need ya right fuckin’ now,” he panted desperately through the breaks in your mouth’s connection, drunk on your taste. The hand that was free slithered around the small of your back and up under your uniform jacket through the perspiration coating your skin to find its way inside your pants.   

“We’ve been baking for a couple days now, wouldn’t you rather I had a shower first?” you questioned and punctuated it with a moan as his palm found purchase on the curve of your ass and gave it a hard squeeze with as much as he could grab.

There was no hesitation, not a single fucking second passed where he even had to think about it. “Fuck gettin’ clean; no need for what I plan on doin’ to ya.”  

Christ he was filthy; honestly you both were. Not much showering out in the field this time around and it had been a good few days of sweating on the tail end that culminated in a distinct scent that radiated off his skin, mixing with the pungent aroma of gunpowder and the spicy sting of cigarettes on his breath; it was an olfactory experience that should have made your skin crawl, but you found the opposite.

You were just as needy for him even if he was absolutely disgusting. Maybe even more so.

“Where?” you groaned, needing him to make up his mind quickly. 

Ripping his mouth away from yours, he watched a string of spittle glisten as it was pulled from your lips before concealing his face again so that you could move. No words needed as he took your hand and led you out into the evening sun, his booted steps fast and heavy. The munitions depot was barely a two minute walk from where you were now and that was about all the waiting could tolerate. 

It was a goddamn miracle that the place was empty for the moment and quickly he used his clearance to enter, the sound of the door thudding open as he flung it while pulling you inside rang through the quiet space. The latch had barely clicked before he was picking you up and setting you on the nearest table, swiping away anything on the surface that would get in his way. You matched his speed as your hands were on the cloth of his mask to pull the damned thing off so you could finally see him properly for the first time in months. 

You tossed the damp facial covering to the ground and stared back into that face you’d missed all this time. Soggy dirty blonde locks clung to his head, plastered down from a combination of his mask and the sweat glistening over his face. The black rimming his eyes shimmered wet-like as it collected moisture from his forehead. Even in this state he was a goddamn gorgeous specimen. It could very well have just been you, but shit did he make filthy look good. 

“What are you waiting for?” you questioned back with a cocky raise of your eyebrow.

 

Simon smirked and dove right back in; he didn’t need to be told at all, let alone twice to get his fill. Heated kisses burned your raw mouth as he pressed your lips together hard so that your nose was buried in his face. As your lips danced, those large hands pawed harshly at your body to go up and under your uniform, ripping through the buttons to reach the t-shirt underneath, parting through the fabric to search for any bare piece of skin that he could find. Gloves already off, the pads of his calloused fingertips drug across the smooth flesh of your stomach, abrading the skin as they moved up towards your chest, tugging your t-shirt to stretch it to its limits. His blunt nails nicked you a few times, making you hiss into his mouth as they left red, raised marks behind.

A little souvenir to take with you the next few days to remember him by. Good, you’d cherish them until they’d dissipate; it had been too long since you’d worn his signature.

Feeling around up under the fabric was nice, but these clothes had to go; your body had been hidden by them for far too long and he was tired of knowing exactly what lay under there but not being able to see it. He jerked off the outer layer of your uniform before tearing your shirt up and over your head. Free of the barrier he pushed you back down onto the tabletop, your legs wrapping around his hips as he gripped into yours to pull you flush against him so that you were being pierced by his cock through his clothes. 

One more quick rough kiss before his lips were trailing down the side of your neck and across your chest, stopping so that he could fill his mouth with as much of your tits as he could fit without suffocating. The sweat made your flesh salty to the taste and as he sucked hard on the fullness of your breasts, one after the other, it filled his mouth. 

That agile tongue of his flicked around each nipple, circling around the areolas until that pleasure center in your brain lit up and had your back arching to push your tits further onto his face. Simon snarled into your chest so that you could feel the sound vibrate through you as the feeling of being enveloped by all that supple, yielding flesh made him even more feral. Goddammit, the more he sucked in the more he wanted until the pressure made the roof of his mouth sting and yet he held out longer still just to be sure he had had enough.

No sense in rushing… 

Emerging from you gulping for air, eye black smudged across his eyes and nose, he did not stop as he continued down the line of your body with his exploring lips: down your chest and over your stomach to just below your belly button. “Ya feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he stuttered with a groan low and guttural. “So fuckin’ good.”

But it wasn’t anywhere near enough for him yet. With a grunt he wrestled the clothing off of his top half, thick chest and torso speckled with perspiration glistening through the hair covering him as he stared down over top of you, those strong hands making quick work of your belt until it hung loose from the loops. The scent of his heady musk intoxicated you now that it was no longer contained by his clothing, something in the zesty notes made your mouth water uncontrollably.

Flicking his eyes back up to your face he licked his lips before bending over your lower half. “I need more,” the primal growl made your body shiver as he took the bit of cloth around the button of your pants into his teeth and ripped at it until he had them undone.

Simon pulled them off and threw them down to the ground and out of his fucking way to then again bend over your torso, placing heated kisses to your hips as this time his mouth took hold of the waistband of your panties and keeping them secure in between his lips he lowered himself onto his knees, taking them with him until they were down around your ankles and he could slip them off. 

Immediately one of those large hands palmed your right thigh to bring it to his mouth as he leaned his face to it, teeth ready to gnaw at the tender, plump meat. Bites sunk in firmly, but not too hard and his unkempt stubble rubbed over the indentations as he went along until you felt like your skin was on fire.  

“Fuck,” you whimpered into the air as a rush of contradicting sensations flooded your body to overload your senses. Your hips writhed wildly the higher he went up that tender inner thigh until he stopped right at the top of your leg. You knew what was coming, knew what he was going to do, and though you may have been hesitant due to your lack of proper hygiene, if Lt. Simon Riley wanted something he was going to get it no matter what.

Your untamed bank beckoned him toward it, a tempting treat no matter what state it was in; once he had it locked in his sights there was no backing away. He was feral for it, starved for it, and with his hand on your thighs he held them apart in a firm grip as he moved in without hesitation. Simon was used to wearing things to cover his face and though there were certain things that he enjoyed more than others, wearing you would always be his favorite.

Once Simon got nestled against you, there wasn’t a goddamn thing that could pry him away. Hot, muggy moisture coated his face from between your thighs as he lapped and lapped at the silky inner walls of your pussy with a weighty tongue, starting with the tip and then using the pad to press firmly up against your clit so you’d buck over his face. With his hand, he pushed down on your pubic bone as he worked until he had you mewling like a kitten. 

“Mmm,” he pleasantly hummed against you, that circling tongue being coated in the sharp tang of your juices as it took its sweet time to draw you closer and closer to the edge like a man obsessed. When it came to making your squeal, there was nothing else on his mind except whatever he could do to make you come harder. 

Shifting below you, he knew what needed to be done about that. Your legs were on the move then as Simon situated his shoulders under your knees, staying locked to you as he sat up taller now that you were completely strapped to him to tilt your pelvis up. In this position, as his tongue focused solely on romancing your clit, his fingers could enter you and stroke that bundle of nerves inside as well. 

Fuck he wasn’t playing around with you this time. If a complete mess was what he wanted to make of you then this was the way to do it, overstimulating you to the point of insanity. Minutes passed without a single sign of him losing stamina or wanting to surface, so lost in the ecstasy of being encapsulated by your thighs pressing around his ears as you squirmed and jerked each time a new point of pleasure was plucked. There was no one here that knew your body better than him and each second that ticked away that warmth in your abdomen gathered.

Sticky and wet, breathless and vibrating with the euphoria of being overwhelmed with that hulking man, it wasn’t long after that you had finally made it to the ledge. Simon could feel it around his fingers, the walls of your cunt becoming engorged and contracting the longer he continued to stroke them deep inside you as your legs began to shake and hit his ears- exactly what he was looking for. It wouldn’t be long now and his face would be dripping with your cum. Steady was the name of his game from this point, making sure not to make a move out of place or rush to reach the finish line. Your body knew the way and with each flick of his tongue and stroke of his fingers it brought you to the precipice just as designed. 

And then you fell silent and he knew it was there. The warmth in your abdomen exploded and shot towards the top of your head as you fell back flush against the table with eyes shut tight and you cried out as your body wriggled and writhed over Simon’s face. Slipping his fingers out of you he gripped hard into your hips to hold you to his face as he sucked on your clit until you rode out the pleasure to its end.

Only then did he let you go.

Standing back up Simon wiped away the moist sign of your orgasm from around his mouth with the back of his hand, a proud gleam in his brown eyes. Screw anyone who said that man couldn’t eat; he could devour you for hours and never have enough. That would be revisited later when time was more available and he could have you relaxed in his bed to make you come multiple times without coming up fully for air. Now he desperately needed to be inside of you.

“Ya ready for me sweetheart?” he said as the sound of his belt buckle jingling hit your ears and you picked your head back up to look at him. 

“I need it Simon, please,” you pleaded through shaky breaths.

You watched with a hungry gaze as he pulled his pants down enough to hang loosely around his hips so that it would release that beast of a cock. A bit of precum sparkled from the tip and he used it to coat himself with a few strokes of his hand; too much and he might lose it. Then he pounced, moving back in between your legs and taking one to place on his shoulder as he aligned the head with your entrance. 

It poked near the sensitive hole as he slowly began to insert it. The tip slipped in with a groan from both of you; fucking hell he had missed how you were so tight. Even just that tiny bit pushed harshly at the walls of your core as it stretched you out to accommodate him. You’d missed how big he was and how full he’d make you soon enough. 

He took a breath to calm himself, too much sensation too quick. “Goddamn baby, forgot how fuckin’ amazin’ ya feel,” he sighed. “It’s been a minute, ya think ya can still take it all?” 

You nodded your head as you swallowed hard to prepare yourself to take him.

“Good girl, just breathe for me,” he grunted as he pulled your body down onto his cock all the way to the base. “That’s it, breathe. T-that’s… fuckin’ hell.” 

Your fingertips dug into the muscles along his back as you were filled to the brim, your walls struggling to accommodate such an impressive object after this extensive break. The sudden, overwhelming pressure even caused Simon to stagger where he stood.

“Goddammit, sweetheart, I fuckin’ missed this,” he groaned, head falling back a moment. “Why can’t I ever get enough of ya? Ya got me under your spell baby. Christ, I gotta to fuck ya raw.” 

Taking it easy and slow was not something Simon had in him anymore, not now that he had gotten that first feel of your cunt in all its warm, wet glory. He was consumed and wasted no time in beginning to thrust recklessly in and out, feverish and rough, and all you could do was hold onto his shoulders for support as you both devolved into dirty, stinking creatures seeking for that ultimate high. 

Goddamn the snap of his hips shoved that fat fucking cock so far into you that he bottomed out at the back of your cervix, making you whine pathetically the harder he pounded until you gagged with each rough thrust. You were so fucking full of him there was no way you weren’t going to feel those bruises tomorrow. Tears stung the rims of your eyes as they rolled back into your head, the discomfort slowly giving way to overwhelming euphoria. 

“Fuck, ya take me so well,” he praised.

Your tits bounced up and down with the force of his thrusts, the table beneath you squeaking as it shook in time with the rhythm and threatening to break the harder he pushed. Christ he had missed this: the fucking ecstasy of your tight cunt gripping onto his cock for dear life as he pounded hard and desperate into it, the way all thoughts outside of the pleasure of your body seemed to vanish into thin air, the build of that release he knew would satisfy him completely… Well, for the moment anyway.

It was heaven in a sinful package.

The longer he went the more his sanity waned until there was not a single thought left except for the animalistic need to rut into you until he came. You could see the change wash over his face and through his eyes, making you grip onto him tighter; you’d never get tired of making him lose himself like that. 

You were completely at his mercy, his hulking size overwhelming so that he could do with you as he pleased and he used that to his advantage. Fingers reached between your bodies to again stroke at your clit; he was getting close and he needed to get you there just as fast. Those digits hit the spot just right and through the pounding of his cock that warmth again found itself growing in your stomach. 

“Right there, right there,” you repeated as your hips joined in on the movement, rolling with his strokes and thrusts to enhance the stimulation as you panted open mouthed into his face. 

His grip on your leg tightened harder as his release drew even closer, his swollen balls ready to spill his seed with just a bit more friction. God, he could feel it, that tingling pressure jolting from zero to one hundred as the muscles in his stomach contracted; his legs were shaking just trying to keep it together until he could have you finish.

“Fuck,” you winced as your breath hitched in your chest. Just a little more…  

He pumped with everything in him and that was it; with a shudder your orgasm rocketed through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp as you fell back against the table. God, it wouldn’t stop, second after second it just kept coming with relentless intensity. Simon did not let up either and soon you were crying from the over-stimulation.

Successfully reaching his goal, it was now his turn to let go and get his; nothing would ever be easier. In and out, in and out, he thrust and thrust until finally he could feel that ledge creep up and with a deep breath in he released control. That was it.

At the last possible second he ripped his cock out of you and nestled it between your clenched thighs as he milked out all that warm cum along your stomach, coating you with all that pent up tension he had been holding on to the entire time you were away. His abdominal muscle contracted hard, heart pounding out of his chest, body writhing as a shiver ran up the length of his spin while he squirted out every last drop that he could give. 

The room reeked of sex and sweat and cum but fuck did neither of you care. You lay there on your back with his warm, pungent semen coating your stomach and dripping into your belly button, panting to catch your breath as he stood hunched over top of you, lightheaded. All he could do was breathe until feeling returned to his limbs and he could talk again.

“Christ you do look good like this luv,” he said with a smirk on his lips as his panting slowed. “Now that we’re back, ya better get used to bein’ on ya back covered in my cum cause I’ve only just started makin’ up for lost time.”

“Lucky for you that’s my favorite place to be,” you chuckled as he went off to find something to clean you up with.

Coming back holding a random piece of cloth, he wiped away his mess and you sat up to give him a thankful kiss. As he handed you back the pieces of your clothing so you could redress, you finally checked your watch and realized that you were in fact late for debrief… for the third time. “Think they’ll buy that we got held up just talking again?” you questioned as you slipped everything back on as best could.

“With how flushed your cheeks are luv, ya better fuckin’ take a minute to collect yourself,” he picked. 

You rolled your eyes. “And who was the one to put me in such a state?” you returned. “Proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Very,” he whispered as he stole one last kiss from you while pulling his pants back up and redoing them. As his lips parted he stayed in close a moment. 

“Though I wouldn’t worry too much about how ya look cause if someone gets a little too close they’re gonna fuckin’ smell me all over ya,” he whispered as he slipped the mask back over his face and you both made your way stealthily back outside. 

Well, guess nothing to fret over now.

[moondirti]

Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!

My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.

Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?

What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?

Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.

Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?

Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!

shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev

cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.

Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.

Or even understand, really.

Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...

You don't mind it.

But you still don't like him.

It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.

That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.

Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.

You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–

The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.

But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.

Things only get worse from there.

"An' where d'you think you're going?"

You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.

If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.

"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.

But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.

And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.

"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."

He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.

"Where are you going with this?"

Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.

"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"

"N-No–"

"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"

"Yes. Yes but–"

"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."

Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.

Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.

That cruel fuck.

"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."

Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.

As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.

"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."

"Si–"

He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.

"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."

You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.

"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."

You make it one block before hightailing back home.

Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.

You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.

But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.

You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.

Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.

Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.

Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.

"Miss me 'lready?"

A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.

The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.

Good dick be damned.

But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.

Account does not exist.

Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.

So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.

It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–

Account does not exist.

Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.

Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.

And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.

It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.

"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."

"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.

"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"

You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.

The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.

And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.

You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.

Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.

Just as Simon barges into your room.

You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.

But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.

"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.

Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.

(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)

That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.

You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.

"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."

"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.

He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.

If anything, he's the stray.

"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."

[f1fantasys]

Miami GP

Part 1 - Wish you could stay.

Part 2 link

Lando and Y/N are fwb, so a lot of smut, slight angst, and of course part 2 will be THE WIN, which I'm still not over!! Someone pinch me! If you have any requests for what I should include please leave a comment!

Warmings - smut, unprotected sex, p in v, female/male head, swearing.

Miami GP. One of the most exciting races of the season. Being an F1 influencer and social media persona, this was once of the races in the year that had so much hype built around it. From the celebrities, to the many events unfolding before the actual race, it wasn't one to miss. This time you'd been invited by Charlotte Tilbury to campaign for the F1 Academy Race, and you couldn't have had a prouder moment - rooting for the girls!

You'd arrived yesterday and went straight into an event with the girls of the F1 Acedemy as well as some of the girlfriends of the drivers.

This morning you were woken up by a message by none other than Lando Norris. You were friendly with a lot of the drivers and their partners, but Lando was special to you. You instantly shared a bond and six months ago, things changed. You became friends with benefits. Of course you were always aware of your lingering crush on Lando, and you often got inclines from him that he felt the same way, but you both were too scared to risk your friendship. So you chose the next best thing - getting close to each other without feelings - or so you thought.

Being in a situation-ship like this with Lando was exhilarating. He was one of the most handsome people you'd known, and he was ever the gentleman, Except for when he fucked you ;) He was fun, and cocky, and boy did he know how to make you feel good. And vise-visa - you made him feel equally as good and there were days when you couldn't go a day without being joined by the hip. You simply couldn't get enough of each other.

One rule though - just sex. No sleeping over. No spending the night. It was down to business and then leave.

That was the part that was becoming harder and harder with each passing day. Watching him get up and leave after giving you the most intoxicating orgasms, and then meeting the next day around friends pretending nothing was going on.

You'd last seen Lando two weeks ago in Monaco - the only thing getting you spending two weeks apart were your regular face-time hookups. Him telling you how down and dirty he would get on you if you were together, and you telling him how you'd get him off.

So - back to today. You read his text :

Lan <3

''Touchdown in Miami baby. When am I seeing you?''

You couldn't help but smile at his message. Your body has been aching for his touch since you last saw him, but at the same time you just missed being around him.

You replied :

''Staying at the same hotel babe. Room 402. Waiting for you''

And you attached a picture of you in bed, clearly naked.

''Fuck me'' was the reply you got.

''Trust me, I plan to'' you smiled to yourself and to replied back.

Not more than 30 minutes later and there was a knock at your door.

You'd just come out of the shower so were still wrapped in just your towel when you went to open the door.

''Fuck Y/N, trying to kill me?'' he smirked, pushing you back inside and then suddenly lifting you up and crashing the pair of you onto your bed.

You clung onto his curls, giggling, and pulled him down to your lips. You honestly could make out with him forever.

It was quickly getting heated. You opened your mouth to let him slide his tongue in when you sucked on it. Teeth were clashing. Bruises surely being left at how rough you both were being.

To Lando - he was distracting you and took this as an opportunity to rid your body of your towel.

The cool air instantly hardened your nipples as Lando took them between his fingers and pinched them, earning a moan from you.

''Missed that pretty sound baby'' he cooed as he now took one of your nipples in his mouth and sucked on it.

Your hands found his curls and pulled at them, silently begging him for more.

''Lan, please'' you breathed. ''Need more. Need you in me. Fuck please'' you whined.

He hadn't even touched your cunt yet and you were already begging for more.

''Y/N, we have the whole morning. Let me show you how much I've missed you and you pussy.

''Fuck'' was all you could mutter. Lando's dirty talk always did a number on you and got you dripping with want.

He lowered his body some more, spreading your legs wide open and kissing and licking a trail up your inner thighs.

''Fuck, Lando. Please!'' you all but screamed. You needed to feel him, now!

''Fucking hell'' he muttered. And he dove straight in. His tongue finding your clit, sucking and biting at it, giving you no time to comprehend the fact that he was finally giving you some relief.

''Shit, Y/N, so wet for me already. Can't get enough of tasting your delicious juices.'' he muttered, his tongue not giving you a chance to even think of a reply.

He soon added one, then two finger straight into your cunt. He for sure knew just how to curl them to hit the right spot. The one that had you putty in his arms. Trembling and letting out moans you were sure people over the wall could hear.

You could feel your stomach start to tighten and your walls start to clench around his fingers as he continued his slaughter with his mouth.

''Can tell you're getting close baby, go on'' he barely audibly said as you felt yourself come crashing down. Your orgasm rippling through your body as your warm juices released straight into Lando's mouth.

Your body felt limb, but Lando didn't slow his movements. This time he added a third finger into play, and as much as you loved his fingers, you still were aching to feel his cock fill you up.

''Please Lando, need to feel you in me. Please'' you begging him again.

''Fuck, angel, come here'' he said as he removed his fingered from your cunt, quickly took off his clothes, and sat against the headboard.

''Want you to ride me, please'' he begged you in return.

Lando took his painfully hard dick in his hands and pumped himself a few times, using his hand that was still slick with your juices.

You crawled up to him and sat on your knees, bending over his body. Not that you needed more lube, because you were soaking wet, but you dripped some of your spit directly on his dick. This time he was the one to moan as if his life depended on it.

You climbed onto him and pulled him in for a needy kiss. You could taste yourself as you started grinding yourself on his thigh.

''Y/N, you're incredible. The things you do to me'' he hissed so he lifted you up slightly so you could sink down on him.

As he filled you up with his whole dick, you both stayed still, giving you time to adjust to his length. He was bigger than average, and as much as you loved his cock, the first push always stung.

But soon the pleasure took over the pain, and you stared to move. Up and down. Pulling at his curls as his mouth found your boobs again and began sucking on your nipples.

''Oh my god, Lan, yes, fucking missed riding you like this. Making me feel so good. Shit'' you managed to say between breaths.

''You're so hot on face-time, but fuck me being with you like this is the best feeling ever.'' he groaned while still licking and sucking your nipples.

He started lifting himself up, meeting you half way. Slamming into you so hard you actually were seeing stars. He was reaching all the right places in your cunt and by now both of your moans were so vulgar that if people were walking past your room it must have sounded like a live porno was happening.

''Fuck Lando I'm going to cum'' and before you could even finish your sentence your orgasm came on so violently your whole body was shaking in Lando's arms.

He held you and continued searching for his own release.

''Where do you want me?'' he asked, breathlessly.

''In me, please'' you managed to whisper. Too dazed to put effort into anything you were saying.

Not a second later and Lando emptied his warm liquids in your pussy, filling you up to the brink.

As he slowed his movements he pulled you impossibly closed and hugged you tight, his dick slowly softening in you.

''Please can we just stay like his forever?'' you cooed.

He gave you a giggle and said ''you don't have to ask me twice, fucking hell. I have no words'' he said as he gently kissed you, tongue exploring your mouth as if searching for diamonds.

You don't know how long the pair of you stayed in that position. Could have been 3 minutes, could have been 30. But you needed to clean up.

You really wished that this could be forever. That he wouldn't get up and leave in a few minutes. But reality came crashing down.

As Lando pulled himself out of you you couldn't help but whimper that the loss of contact.

He quickly went to get a warm cloth to wipe you down and started putting his clothes on. While you sat there, shamelessly staring at his toned body which you just wanted to pull back into bed.

There was a sudden shift of energy in the room. Awkward almost.

''See you tonight? Planning a dinner with the guys and whoever is here'' he asked.

''Yeah, sounds good. Send me the details'' you smiled.

He got up after putting his shoes back on and reached over to give you one more quick kiss on your lips before he was out the door.

''Fuck'' you thought to yourself. ''I really am in too deep now.''

The day again was filled with multiple events and lots of food and drinks. Despite the post-sex awkwardness from this morning, Lando still regularly texted you throughout the day. At one point - he was sexting with you too. You couldn't help but flush your cheeks at his forwardness. he was getting you horny all over again.

Lan <3

''Can't wait to fill you up again tonight.'' ''Fuck, can't wait to taste you again.'' ''Can't wait to feel you clench around me again.''

You were done for. You couldn't concentrate on anything now. All you wanted to do was drag Lando back to bed.

''Fuck me Lando, stop teasing. Can't function now. All I can think about is your cock.'' you replied quickly.

''Oh yeah? Want me to fuck you senseless tonight?'' he cheekily replied.

''Yes please, desperate to feel to you fill me up again.''

This was going to be a long afternoon.

Finally as the days' events finished, you had about an hour until meeting Lando and the others for dinner.

You decided on a cotton tight white dress that showed off your ass and boobs perfectly. You knew where the night was going so you didn't wear any underwear - it wouldn't have looked nice anyways.

Just as you were finishing your makeup you phone rang. Of course it was him.

''Lan'' you answered.

''Hey babe, I''m running late, just got back to the hotel so come to my room to chill if you're ready. Leaving the door unlocked.''

Before you could even reply he put the phone down.

''Okay'' you thought to yourself. ''That wasn't weird.''

Anyways, you quickly finished you makeup and 15 minutes later you entered Lando's room.

You immediately knew he was in the shower as you heard the water running. It took everything in you to try to NOT picture him right now. Naked. Beautiful and sexy body on display. Cock spring free and throbbing, hopefully for your cunt.

''Fuck'' you though to yourself.

You tried to keep yourself busy on your phone but it wasn't helping.

Eventually you heard the water turn off and you weren't surprised when he walked out of the bathroom butt-naked.

''Hello'' he smiled innocently at you, walking towards you and pecking your cheek.

It was a few seconds before you greeted him back, too engulfed in his body no, his hard dick dancing around.

You cleared your throat. ''Hey Lan'' you tried to act causal.

''How was your day'' you eventually managed, trying to distract yourself from the dirty thoughts filling your mind.

''Ummmm, started off pretty well'' he winked at you. ''Then was boring as shit, meetings and all.'' he said as he began putting his shirt on. Cock still on display.

You were going to break - you couldn't hold it in anymore.

''Fuck Lando! What are you trying to do to me? Walking around like that. You're driving me fucking crazy and we haven't even been to dinner yet!'' you exclaimed.

''Haha, knew it wouldn't take you long to brake. Come here'' he said pulling you up.

He hugged you as tight as he could before he started leaving open-mouthed kisses along your neck.

''You'll have to suffice my lips right now, and if you behave, you can get my dick after dinner.''

You scoffed at that. ''If I behave? Remind me what you couldn't wait for earlier?'' you smirked at him.

''Whatever'' he said as his cheeks flushed pink.

He distracted you again by kissing you. Deep and hard, as if his life depended on it.

''Let's get this dinner over with so we can get back to business.''

You went down to the lobby of the hotel separately. None of your friends knew about the fact that the two of you wear having sex. The only person who did was Carmen, George's girlfriend. But you both practically threatened her with silly things if she told anyone, even George. There was no way things would be easy if everyone found out. Plus you liked having your own little bubble.

Dinner was not eventful to say the least. It was fun catching up with the girls but you really couldn't wait to be in the taxi going back to the hotel.

At some point during the dinner, Lando found himself next to you, pretending to talk about something important, but really just whispering filth in your ear.

''Please, let's go'' you practically begged him.

After a while he made up the excuse that you weren't feeling well and that he was going to take you back to the hotel.

It was a miracle no one batted an eyelid as you said your goodbyes.

His lips were on yours as soon as you were in the taxi.

No talking the whole ride - just wandering hands and tongue on tongue. Eventually, the taxi driver cleared his throat to alert you that you were back at the hotel.

''Cheers'' Lando told him before practically dragging you to your room.

As soon as the door was closed, Lando took your dress in his hands and ripped it apart.

''LANDO!'' you all but screamed.

''Sorry babe, but I needed it off. I'll buy you a new one. Fuck no underwear?'' he asked with wide eyes, gaping at your boobs and cunt.

''No underwear'' you repeated as you sunk down on your knees before him.

''Fuck, wait let me sit down.''

He guided you to the sofa and undid his belt before you pulled his jeans and boxers down in one go.

His cock sprang out and hit his stomach, pre-cum already dripping from it.

You got on your knees again and took him into your hands.

Pumping him a few times, spreading his pre-cum around.

''Please Y/N'' he begged. ''Been wanting to feel your lip around me all day along.'' he begged again.

Although you wanted to tease him, the ache between your legs was growing impatient.

So you took the tip of him between your lips, and sucked, so hard that his legs started to shake.

'Oh my god, gonna be the end of me, you are'' you said in between moans.

You then took as much of him as you could, as your hands started pumping what you couldn't fit in. You weren't holding back now. Bobbing your head, while Lando's hands found your hair and held it out of your way.

''That's it. Keep going Y/N. Taking my girth so well. Not gonna last long.'' he muttered between breathes.

You were starting to gag now. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes. But you were determined to taste him, so you kept going until he was all but screaming you name full of praises and you felt his warm cum spill to the back of your throat.

''Shit, that mouth of yours. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Best mouth I've ever had.'' he said pulling up to sit on his lap to kiss you again.

You started grinding your ass on his thighs, just as you did this morning, until he scooped you up and carried you to the bed.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Lando had you on all fours, lining his dick up at your entrance.

He pushed in slowly, allowing you to adjust again.

''Faster, please, go all out'' you begged him.

Finally, he picked up his pace, slamming into you from behind, grunting and praising how good you felt. How your walls clenched around his cock.

''Yeah baby, just like that. Being my whore. Wish you would be my whore forever.''

You both were too blissed out and breathless to even think of what Lando said. All you could think about was how good he was fucking you right now.

''Yes Lan, fuck me harder, please, harder.''

Then suddenly he pulled out and turned you around. He was on top of you this time. Pounding into you, not getting enough.

His lips found homage on your boobs as his hands found yours and intertwined them together.

You could feel the warmth start to build up in your stomach, legs beginning to shake. ''Gonna cum babe?'' he asked as he felt your walls start to clench almost painfully around his dick.

With no warning you came around him. Gushes if warm liquid even spilling out of you.

By now you couldn't form any words so you simply just nodded, and your moans reached new heights.

''Too much Lando, can't take it.'' you groaned.

''Yes you can. Look at me. You can cum again for me, can't you?''

And how could you say no to him when he was looking at you like that?

''Fuck, go on'' you hissed as you felt him quicken his pace again, clearly chasing his own orgasm as well.

Once again both of your moans were so obscene it was brilliant. In seconds he had you cumming all over again.

You could feel his movements getting sloppier by the second. ‘Want to taste you again, please’ you begged him.

Straight away he pulled out of you and shoved his dick in your mouth. Immediately had you gagging and tearing up but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

‘Fuck fuck fuck Y/N yes, oh yes’ he moaned as he emptied his spill to the back of your throat.

His body went limb and so he let his weight fall on you. Curls stuck to his forehead because of the sweat. You held onto him for dear life. Eyes prickling because of the stimulations but also because of your want of more from him.

You pressed your lips to his in a soft and sloppy manner. How you wished you really could stay like this the whole night.

Suddenly it was awkward again. None of you knowing what to say to each other. This was very weird. There was never a moment even in your friendship when things were as awkward as this.

As always, Lando cleaned you up and was walking out of your door within minutes. You wished you could run after him and pull him back in, never let him go. But you couldn’t. That was just a fantasy you longed for.

The next few days passed in a blur. Both of you busy with events and meetings and so on. When you were together with friends, things still felt weird. You couldn’t make out what was wrong. But you still hooked up every night - nothing would stop your two bodies coming together for nights on undeniably passionate sex.

Finally though, it was race day 😈

Authors note - hope you guys enjoyed this. I am still reeling from the win-can’t stop smiling! Who else still feels like this? Also, enjoy these pics, because I couldn’t not bless your tl with them 🧡

[littlemoonglow]

Warning: Long post?

—

Jason did not expect his ghost form to feel…like this.

(Oh, dealing with his body randomly phasing through the ground and smacking his face onto hard concrete was not fun, but Jason dealt with that just like with every other hurdle in his life. By being more stubborn than the problem itself.)

It felt like something… settled into place. That was the best way he could describe it.

He felt as if spite and anger were finally not the only things keeping him awake and running. 

He felt calm, almost. Stable, at least. Whatever pent up energy that was stuck in his chest cavity now flowed freely throughout his body, redistributed, instinctually easier to manage.

It's almost like he could breathe a little bit easier.

(After much… ranting that Jason decided to ignore for his own sanity, Danny said that his case ectoplasmic corruption was probably due to the fact that Death, as a concept, doesn’t let go of things easily, time shenanigans notwithstanding.)

(Becoming a half-ghost was seemingly the only working compromise.)

—

Danny once told him that broad strokes of a ghost’s personality could be guessed by looking at their physical appearance. 

Despite the cool powers, this was a slight downside. Jason dealing with the filth of the Earth meant that being to hide his emotions and who he is was kind of important. Life saving, even.

He realized later on that his ghost form was way too easy to read.

—

He looked at his arms covered in bandages, and got reminded of the amount of times he had to patch himself up in the last month.

His jacket was ripped in place he knew that would have been sewn together when he was a living breathing human (well, as much as he could be).

He always looked slightly on fire?

(Danny told him it's probably related to his... core?)

(He know he died in an explosion but really?)

And then, there was his… veil? Shroud? Cloak?

It looked really nice.

But on the other hand…

It drooped when he felt under the weather. It flicked and thrashed around when he’s either irritated or barely holding back his urge to headshot someone.

And—

(No Danny, my cloak was not fucking wagging when you brought me fresh ectoplasm last week, you’ll have to get your goddamn eyes checked—)

He'll deny it until the day he dies (a second time).

And then his cloak could sometimes just…grow bigger. He figured that it acted as an extension of his own body, and had a nice add-on of allowing him to sense things he couldn't see. Hell, he could even make a hand out of it (wacking Danny with it - gently - never gets old). Jason had to also admit it looked cool, with the wispy bits and with one of its sides becoming a bright yellow.

(It reminded him a bit of his time as Robin.)

—

Being a ghost had a lotta perks.

Dealing with targets was so much easier when no one could see you. Inflitration was so much simpler when walls became optional. Cameras will glitch out when he's around, he left no traces visible to the naked eye and, combined with his training, to say that it was useful would be an understatement.

But, sometimes, he feels like he’s changing as well the more he transforms. Not drastically, but enough for him to look back and notice.

He usually was someone who prided on being efficient and straight to the point.

But now he’s starting to… have fun.

He started using his claws whenever he could. Don't het him wrong, he still uses his guns plenty, but there was just something deeply satisfying about vaulting over things, scaling a wall or crawling on the ceiling with bare hands. 

(Punching people is still the most satisfying by far, though.)

That one time hunting down the Joker wannabes was fun too.

(Danny said he’d get along great with Skulker? Did Jason want to find out? No.)

Fading in and out of invisibility, he picked them off one by one, watching as panic and dread slowly but surely creeped up on the remaining ones.

(After all, he has no respect for those trying to emulate the dead clown.)

—

(Yeah, the Joker was dead.)

(Surprisingly, that has not been a good day.)

—

One of the favorite things he liked to do was rooftop parkour. The… bendability of gravity is… fun, not gonna lie.

(Not flying though. Jason is used to having feet in regular contact with solid ground, thank you very much. No offense, Danny.)

But he gets why ghosts love to fly. When he’s jumping from rooftop to rooftop in Gotham in the at night, watching the city light fly by, cloak spread behind him, it’s as if nothing else matters. 

(No Joker, no petty criminals to beat up, no avoiding the Bats so they don’t find out about his existence—)

He can just enjoy, even just for a little bit.

—

(Somehow the Demon Brat and Orphan could sense him. Will keep and eyes on those two, and also the more reasons to avoid them.)

(The real problem was the new Bat in town. Bruce, what the fuck, another one? Again?)

(The yellow one, Signal. No time to check his profile yet, but probably a meta or something.)

(First night out and the guy almost managed to actually fucking see him —looked at him straight in the eyes and all, then did a double take. Jason never phased into the pavement so fast in his entire fucking life.)

(And so far no Bats on his cloak tails yet.)

(He did help the guy incognito, just a couple of times.) 

(And he also did steal his escrima sticks for fun, and once the guy went out looking for them, he’d put them right back where they were.)

(Turns out, he discovered later, that being a little shit runs in the ghost community.)

—

(Sometimes he also wonders what happened to Danny before they met.)

(He wasn't a Gothamite, that was obvious. He doesn’t pry, but it doesn’t take a lot to piece two and two together.)

(He just wonders who he has to kill this time.)

—

(Jason could not believe he forgot and underestimated just how fucking persistent every single one of the Bats could be. Of course it had to run in the family.)

He gazed down, thought the agony, at the gaping wound under his right armpit.

(The Bats have been chasing him relentlessly for a while now. He got more injuries than he can count, especially from Bruce.)

(They know. Oh, they know.)

(It didn’t go well.)

(He knows the others are there surrounding him to prevent him from escaping, he knows that Dick is right behind him, but at the moment he couldn’t care less.)

It has been a long time since the last time he got shot.

(It felt like someone set his right side on fire.) 

What was flowing out in abundance was a neon, toxic green.

(The Pit Waters, ectoplasm, he didn’t even know that he could fucking bleed in ghost form—)

(Danny—)

He looked back up at Batman, holding a (frankly) ugly gun, white casing and highlights in the same shade of toxic green. 

(A gun that Danny warned him about. And everything behind it.)

Jason felt something in him... snap.

(Why did it have to be you, Bruce.) 

His mouth opened—

(waitsincewhenhecoulddothatthroughtthe mask—) 

(Jason could see the billows of neon green smoke—)

(He couldn’t see Bruce’s expression.)

(Every. Single. Goddamn. Time.)

— and wailed.

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

I am genuinely delighted that my last post got that much attention! Thank you so much, to all who liked, rebblogged and commented, it really does mean the most. 💕

This AU may be continued? No guarantees, tho.

For those interested: Part 01

@fandomnerd103 @phoenixdemonqueen @satisfactionbroughtmeback @ascetic-orange @apointlessbox @bathildaburp @fisticuffsatapplebees @aisforanonymity @phandomhyperfixationblog @help-i-need-a-cool-username @hashtagdrivebywrites @did-i-miss-anyone-tagging-is-a-monk's-job-first-time-doing-this-aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[ggidolsmuts]

Fire in the Belly (and the Womb)

A/N: This follows up from the previous story Sins, Hormones, and the Starlet's Boyfriend

"Hey Yunjin, wow, that looks a little too breedable, hope it's not too cold." Yunjin's head snaps at the stylist's comment.

"What? What did you say?" she asks tersely.

"Huh? I said it looks breathable, like I hope it doesn't get too cold out there."

"Oh, got it, yeah, should be fine, sorry stylist-unnie." The stylist looks at her oddly, but just shakes her head and leaves.

"Yunjin, are you ok?" Sakura lays a concerned hand on her. "You seem off."

"Ah yeah, I'm fine." She was decidedly not fine. Yunjin is horny, and just like someone with horns, she snaps out at people unexpectedly. Her nights have been muted but wet, her moans muffled into the pillow to not disturb her members. Regrettably her own self-pleasure has been unsatisfying. No thanks to him! Nothing felt quite as good after her evening at Somi's place. They did work together on some songs after, but whenever she ran into him with Somi he was nothing but polite. Like a puppy he was devoted to Somi, checking in on her, leaving her little notes in her studio, and never sparing Yunjin anything but a courteous nod and greeting. It bugged her, not that she was jealous of Somi, more that she was envious of Somi, because she knows what he was capable of.

That he could be a wolf at Somi's wishes, and that he could tear Yunjin's clothes apart and eat Yunjin whole. That he would make her scream in pleasure, and she needed to scream in pleasure, to let loose right about yesterday. She can't do that in the dorms! A dildo is nice and all, and Yunjin has one or two that stretch her pretty well, but not with the force he could drive into her. There's also a fire in her belly, or rather, fire in her womb, and no dildo could satisfy her raw desire to have potent cum pumped straight into her. So with a hand drifting between her legs, she taps out a message to Somi.

*Hey Somi, really sorry to ask this, can I borrow your boyfriend for a night?*

*Like last time? sure, I could use a break after last week, when do you want him*

Yunjin let's out a muted moan at that thought—she can only imagine what the two of them have been up to, how hard does he go that the energetic Somi needs a break? And when does she want him? Oh god like a month ago! It takes all of her self-control to not type "ASAP" into her phone, and instead Yunjin settles for:

*Whenever's good for him*

Even with a date set, Yunjin still finds herself surprised, yelping when she sees him come through her dressing room door.

"Shh, unless you want everyone to know."

"What are you doing here?" She hugs him, a friendly greeting.

"Somi wanted me to give you a surprise." The greeting turns intimate, and Yunjin's body is suddenly flooded with heat as he pulls her flush against him. His hand is daring, and through the mirror behind him she watches his hand dip under her skirt, and then—

"Ohhhhh!" The loud moan leaks unbidden as he squeezes her ass firmly, palming her cheek over the safety shorts. Fuck now she wants to take the shorts off, to have him squeeze her ass directly, maybe spank it even. Unconsciously she pushes her hips back, wanting him to feel more of her ass. Very consciously he pushes her hips back to him, and there is a different kind of flooding as he presses his hardness against her.

"Not so loud, you really want to get caught don't you?" Yunjin doesn't want to get caught, but it feels so good to be touched, to be handled roughly like the way he was doing right now. "You're looking mighty breedable." This time Yunjin's sure she did not mishear. If anything, he would want her outfit to be completely breathable—naked, specifically. To her delight he unbuckles his pants, quickly revealing his stiffness.

Yes! He smiles into her neck and Yunjin freezes, did she say that out loud? There's no time to think though as he pushes her down slightly, and Yunjin's mind goes blank, feeling his shaft even through the layer of her safety shorts. She buries her face in his chest, muffling her moans as he rubs his cock between her legs—she helps him by grinding down on it, as if she's trying to split her lips over his tool.

"Close your thighs." Yunjin follows his request immediately, and the two of them breathe a little heavier as skin meets skin, her smooth thighs rubbing against his raw hardness. He begins to move, thrusting slowly between her thighs and rubbing against her pussy, and the memories of their previous encounter come easily to mind. A large hand squeezes her butt again, and his fingers dig deep into her flesh, sinfully tracing between her cheeks. Yunjin's reminded of the way he grabbed Somi's ass last time, and intrusive thoughts start coming in, her mind going wild as she imagines how they fuck, influenced by the bits and pieces she hears from Somi.

I could use a break after last week

First thing he does coming home is to jump me

He just explodes in you

"Nngh fuck..." This was just supposed to be a little surprise tease, but Yunjin's so deprived that even this is enough to have her hurtling towards an orgasm. A playful smack on her ass, and Yunjin's world goes white. She bites her lower lip hard as she suppresses a squeal, legs going weak as she reaches a relieving climax. When she recovers her forehead is pressed against his chest, and looking down she can see his shaft shining a little, covered in her own slick, rubbing her pussy to extend her pleasure. It's hypnotizing, and Yunjin can't take it anymore.

"You can p-put it in..." she whispers.

"No, not today." Her whine when he pulls away is utterly depraved, watching him put his erection back in his pants. "Today's just a surprise."

"You didn't finish yet!" She wants to help him finish, she wants him. "Let me—" Yunjin drops to her knees, eager to take him in her mouth, but to her shock he resists, taking one more step away from her.

"Nuh-uh, today's loads are for Somi. I'll see you next time." He pats her head, and a stunned Yunjin remains on her knees as the door closes behind him.

Today's... loads? Multiple? For Somi? Somehow, despite her orgasm, Yunjin is even more aroused than before. Yunjin quickly stands up before anyone comes in and sees her kneeling on the ground, but as she does she realizes she has another problem—how is she going to explain why her safety shorts are soaked through?

"Fuck me..." she utters to herself.

The day arrives, but it is with simmering frustration that Yunjin waits in the hotel room, thighs crossing and uncrossing as she awaits his arrival. She checks her phone constantly—he's late, and yet no message! Surely he didn't forget? Or did he get the day wrong? Or did he skip out on her? Maybe he just thought "Eh, pass." The mere contemplation of the last thought sends Yunjin into indignant anxiety—how could he turn her down! Did he not have a good time last time? Should she have insisted on giving him a blowjob right then?

It is with such thoughts that Yunjin opens the door when he finally arrives, her expression prompting him to ask a patently absurd question.

"Is now not a good time? Should we reschedule?" As if Yunjin could reschedule her need to get fucked!

"No." She pulls him in and slams the door behind him. "You're late."

"By..." He checks his phone. "8 minutes? I just missed the train and had to wait for the next. What's wrong?" Yunjin's self-inflicted dourness lightens as she watches him remove his coat, the mere sight of him taking off clothing reawakening her arousal.

"N-Nothing, just frustrated, sorry."

"Well, that's what I'm here for." Any doubts she had about him or herself go out the window as he hugs her like last time, kissing her demandingly. His fingers run through her hair, his other hand firm around her waist—one strokes her hair, the other strokes her lower back. It is almost sweet, like the last time they had sex, but Yunjin's too horny for that.

"I need you to fuck me roughly," she breathes into his ear, and the stroking pauses.

"Roughly?"

"Last time, the way you fuck Somi, you said there was the intimate way and the—"

"The rough way, yes I remember." His expression hardens slightly, as if preparing to be rough with her, and Yunjin gets wetter. A thrill goes down her spine when he opens his mouth again. "What's your safeword?"

Safeword, oh my god, just how rough do they get?! Yunjin buys herself some time, trying not to think about how rough he and Somi get. "Do you and Somi have a safeword?"

"We did."

"Did?"

"We learnt our limits over time, and we eventually stopped using it." Yunjin isn't scared, but she also worries about biting off more than she can chew, or take, in this case. Nevertheless she bluffs, unimpressed by her own behavior earlier.

"No safeword for me then either, no limits, I can take it." He stares at her, and Yunjin stares back, willing herself to hold his gaze. He is the first to blink, and he clears his throat.

"Let's pick up from where we left off then, I want to use your mouth." He leisurely removes his pants, and Yunjin drops to her knees once more, eager to finally get started. He is in her hands, hard and ready, all for her! She tries to bring her head to his, but is stopped by a hand on her scalp.

"Ah ah, I want to use your mouth, not receive a blowjob. Get on the bed." His tone is commanding, and Yunjin doesn't dare protest. He pulls her to the edge of the bed, her head hanging off the side. "Open." The blood is beginning to rush to Yunjin's head, and she has no stray thoughts, her mouth hanging open upside down.

"Ggllhk, mmph!" It is the first time she takes him in the mouth, and his length seems monstrous in size, filling her oral cavity, and pushing into her throat.

"Breathe through your nose," is the reminder and the order, and Yunjin complies, breathing in oxygen mixed with his musk—intoxicating. "Relax your throat." Deeper he goes, and Yunjin has to strain a little to allow him to push on further. On and on, until his sack taps against her nose and upper lip.

Today's loads, all for me! is the only thought in her head.

"Good?" He asks. Yunjin dangles an arm behind her, feeling his muscular ass and squeezing it, trying to push him forward.

I'm perfect. "Ghhk!" Panic takes over Yunjin when she feels a hand on her throat, giving her a slight squeeze.

"Relax, trust me, let me take over, let me do the work." She breathes deeply through her nose, trying her best to relax her body. "Good girl." Rhythmically the fingers on her throat tense and slack, moving back and forth on her neck. His hips move slightly too—not quite thrusting, just enough for some friction. "Such a nice fucking cocksleeve."

The thought should have incensed Yunjin—her throat, her instrument as Le Sserafim's vocalist, now used as nothing but a fleshlight, a mere instrument of pleasure. Yet as he throbs inside her neck the idea only served to turn her on, to heighten her arousal. He wanted to use her mouth, and by God he was using all of her mouth. Her hands drift to her own body, diving beneath her shorts and between her spread legs. She moans as she touches her lips—she's soaked! However, Yunjin is swiftly admonished, the grip around her throat tightening.

"Not your turn yet." He grabs her arm, pulling it back towards her neck. "Stroke me." He plants a knee on the bed, pushing even deeper, as if trying to fits his balls into her mouth as well. Yunjin is made to choke herself, her own hand grabbing her neck. She feels his thickness inside her throat, coughing a little as it throbs. She runs a hand up and down her neck, smearing her own juices across her skin. "That's it, fuck that's good!" Liquid trickles down Yunjin's face, messing up her makeup—not tears, but her own drool, flowing the wrong way down her face. Everything about this is wrong, why is she choking herself? Why is she letting him pin her head against the bed, why is he dunking his balls into her face?

Why does it feel so good?

When his orgasm happens Yunjin feels it more than tastes it—the jump of his cock, tip hitting the walls of her throat, and then the burst of gooey warmth against it. His hand goes back to her neck, squeezing it like he's gripping his cock, milking it for every drop. Yunjin trembles beneath him, beginning to run out of oxygen as he continues to spurt. The saltiness hits her tongue as he pulls out, the last remnants of his peak glazing across her lips and nose.

"Now it's your turn. Let's make you squirt."

"I'm— Haah, don't, mmm! Squirt." He doesn't give Yunjin anytime to breathe, leaning over her, and plunging his fingers between her legs. There is an audible thump as Yunjin bumps her head against the edge of the bed, her body arching against him at the penetration—it has been too long! She opens her eyes when she realizes he's not moving, two fingers deep inside her keeping her stretched and full, but no friction, no pleasure. His face is at her hips, and he's looking back down her body, smiling back at her.

"You will."

"Mmm..." Yunjin lets her head dangle off the edge of the bed again as he starts moving, massaging her pussy from the inside. Maybe she's just incredibly aroused, but he seems to know just how to touch her, and the hot pleasure going through her body quickly becomes a boil. "Fuck yes, just like that!" She just needed that little bit more!

Then she feels it.

"Oh my god!" Her eyes open in surprise when he presses down on her abdomen, right over where his fingers are inside her. Together the set of hands seem to pin her g-spot in place, and he just works his fingertips against her weakness, prodding and rubbing at it incessantly. It's like he knows her body better than she does. Like he owns it! is the last thought before she blanks out.

"Oh fuck... FUCK ME!" Yunjin screams and grabs at his thighs, fingers digging into his flesh as she squirts for the first time, soaking her clothes like never before. She's too blissed out to even notice his hard-again cock bouncing against her face as she cries and shouts, smearing her pretty face with more leftover semen and newly made precum. When she comes to her head is lying on the bed, and he's caressing her cheek, or so she thought.

"Clean." He brings his fingers to her mouth, and Yunjin dutifully sucks them clean. "Do we taste good?" It takes a moment to process the taste—he had wiped her face with his hand, and his fingers were coated in her juices and his cum! The worst part is, they tasted good together, and Yunjin couldn't wait for their fluids to mix... Elsewhere.

He takes off the rest of his clothes, and Yunjin follows suit, peeling off her now sweaty and wet pieces. As soon as she does he's on her, and Yunjin finds herself facing the wrong way on her hands and knees. The breath is pushed out of her as she is unceremoniously filled. Is this what Somi means by being jumped, that he just turns her around and sinks into her? Does he also use Somi's throat like he did earlier—two of K-Pop's hottest starlets, and their throats and pussies are just wrapped around his cock like toys?

"Nngh... Fuck!" Yunjin doesn't have much more time to think about what he does with Somi as pleasure shoots through her body while he does her. Her cheeks clap loudly against his hips, his hands branding her milky skin with how tightly he's holding her.

"Such a tight fucking body!" he hisses, and Yunjin clenches around him in response, both from the praise and her desire to please him further. Each thrust jolts her senses, and Yunjin is slowly overwhelmed by the pleasure, her arms and legs going weak trying to prop her body up. He soon renders that unnecessary though by grabbing her wrists and yanking them back, pulling her upper body off the bed. He gathers her wrists behind her back, and with one hand holding them there Yunjin is powerless to do anything. 

"God deeper, h-harder!" Her arms are his reins as he rides her to one orgasm, and then another, like a stallion riding its mare. With her hands occupied there's no stifling her loud moans or cries of pleasure that fill the room, and as loud as she gets on Le Sserafim content, Yunjin is arguably even louder in bed. "Fuck I'm cumming! Oh fuck don't stop, please don't stop! F-Faster, more please— Oh my— Mmmmm!" Yunjin's tongue loosens as she finally gets the fuck she's been waiting for for a long time, and she's saying anything that comes to mind, shamelessly telling him how she wants to be plugged—faster, harder, deeper! She's fucked into another "hands-free" orgasm before he lets go, dropping her head to the bed. She finds herself in an even more compromising position when her mind is no longer blank with pleasure—he's still holding her by her hands, but now he's pulled them from beneath her body and between her legs, using it as a sling to hold her hips up.

"Ah..." Yunjin gasps breathlessly as he starts thrusting again. She tries to squirm and turn her head, to lift herself off the bed with pure core strength, but he simply pulls on her arms, forcing her head back to the bed with the see-saw action. She could touch her clit in the position, and Yunjin does so, adding a familiar pleasure to the more foreign pleasure of being fucked so thoroughly.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asks when Yunjin recovers from another orgasm, and she can only whimper and nod, rubbing her face on the bedsheet. "Do you want me to get rougher?" She nods again, and in short order he has her screaming—he plants a foot on the bed and grabs her by the hips, and the new position allows him to fuck her even more powerfully at an even better angle. Yunjin was getting fucked earlier, now she's just getting dicked down and loving it.

"Nnnngh! Oh my god, oh my god!" She has to bite the sheets in both pain and pleasure—her throat is sore from the "blowjob" earlier, her arms are sore from his yanking and pulling, and without a doubt her pussy is going to be sore with how hard he's going to town on her, but Yunjin would not have it any other way. Her head spins as a large hand pushes her deeper into the bed, and then—

Without any warning beyond a grunt, he simply sinks his cock all the way into her and explodes, filling her womb with potent DNA shrapnel. Each send of his hips sends even more cum into her, claiming more and more of Yunjin's pussy. She can only moan when she feels liquid trailing down her thighs—he's overflowing out of her!

"Y-You came so much..." Yunjin gasps, but he isn't remotely done with her. She finds herself on her back, and her fingers in her own pussy as he pushes them in.

"Clean yourself out before I fuck you again."

"W-What?! W-Wait!" Yunjin whimpers in overstimulation as four fingers are shoved into her, digging his load out from inside. Through thick and thin fingers does his load spill out from her, and the flow does not cease—so copious and thick is his seed that she finds herself on the verge of climax again just trying to get all of it out. "W-Why do you need to get it out? Nngh!"

"I don't want any sloppy seconds."

But it's your cum! Yunjin wants to cry out, yet it comes out as a wordless shout when he makes her clench again in orgasm, both his and her fingers fucking her roughly, forcing Yunjin to push his load out. What an image she makes right now—she lays sprawled out on the bed, fingers plunged deep in her own cum-filled snatch. It's no wonder he's hard again by the time Yunjin manages to piece a thought together. He rubs his tip against her messy and gooey entrance, and to Yunjin's shock he aims below her slit, lifting her legs slightly.

"I'm going to fuck your ass." A chill runs down her spine—whatever she had been looking for from him, it definitely wasn't that.

"N-No wait, not there!" Without responding he brings two fingers to her slit, gathering her slick and his cum before smearing it around her puckered ring. "Please, not there, I don't want it there!"

"What's your safeword then?" Her blood runs cold when she realizes her folly—she told him she didn't need one, and told him there were no limits! And now he's lubing her up, spreading her cheeks!

"No, please don't!" No no no no no no no! But he is unbudging, ignoring her pleas and making a show of prepping his thrusts. Once, then a second time does his cock seem to bump around her ass, as if "missing" his target. He makes a show of pulling his hips back, and Yunjin braces for losing her anal cherry—she could have pushed him off, or kicked him away earlier, but with his hands pinning her arms down her mind is going blank, and her hands grip the sheets, eyes tightly shut as she prepares for the pain. She can only manage one final whimper.

"Please—"

His cock sheathes inside her pussy with a smooth thrust, and for the first time ever Yunjin cums on the initial penetration. The relief and sudden pleasure instead of pain mix blissfully in Yunjin's head, and her legs wrap around his hips as she cums, locking him in, afraid he would actually take her ass if he pulls out again.

"And that's why we have safewords." He whispers in her ear, nibbling on her ear lobe and earning himself a whimper of "You're right." He unwraps Yunjin's legs from behind him and puts her in a mating press, hooking her knees with his elbows. Regardless of the position he chooses Yunjin is powerless, limp with pleasure as he begins plowing her again, stretching her sore pussy even more. For a brief moment Yunjin watches him, his hair mess and ruffled, wolfish... 

Wolfish? 

She's reminded of the fanfics she's read on her lonely nights, about alphas and omegas. She has no idea if he's ever read anything like that, or even aware of that concept, but he sure is fucking her like an alpha, and for her part, from the way she's yelping, she might as well be an omega in heat, her pussy molded in the shape of his cock. He kisses her, tongue demanding Yunjin's own tongue in return. The kiss is so intense, so ferocious, that Yunjin's head begins to spin, beginning to run out of breath. To the kiss he adds an unexpected move—with a hand he pinches Yunjin's nose, and between his kiss, the pinch, and the absolute pounding he's still able to give her, she starts to panic once more, quickly running out of oxygen, each jolt of her body unable to give her the air she needs.

"Mm, mm!" She grabs his shoulder, trying to tap him weakly, but her grip is loosening by the second, her consciousness fading. Her eyes open, and he has a lupine grin on his face—he might actually fuck her to death. He pulls away and says something, but she can only read his lips before she combusts.

Cum.

Yunjin's eyes roll into her head, the chemicals rushing her brain as oxygen flows back into her lungs. Yet again the mix of relief and pleasure is intoxicating, and her mouth hangs open, silently screaming as she squirts around him again. She jerks uselessly below him, her pussy contracting around his cock her only grip on reality anymore. Her limbs feel like jelly, and she has to whine and whimper to get him to throw her arms around his neck and hug her. Between the choking, the squirting, the threat of anal, and then the simultaneous kissing and choking and squirting she just went through earlier, Yunjin's brain is mush, intrusive thoughts entering and taking root. As far as she is concerned he is her alpha, and her lizard brain submits to him—if he wanted to take her ass now she wouldn't say no. But Yunjin wants something more.

"What is it?" his growl cuts through her orgasm-induced brain fog.

"Huh?"

"You've been mumbling, not moaning, spit it out." He thrusts harder, and Yunjin placates him by moaning—even now she doesn't want to reveal the depths to which her desires have descended to. The resistance is token though, and if her alpha wants to hear her needs, she would tell him. He asks her with his body, cock plunging in and out of her roughly; he actually wants to just hear her moan more, but Yunjin's omega-twisted mind treats it as delightful punishment, as if trying to make her speak, and the words begin tumbling out of her mouth.

"B-Breed... Breed me, please breed me." She finds his gaze, her eyes round and dilated, clouded with submissive lust. "Breed me like you own me." He slows down, and Yunjin immediately panics. "No, keep going, don't stop! Don't stop!"

"Say it again," he snarls, his voice low and dangerous. Yunjin does what her alpha wants.

"Breed me."

"The full thing, all of it." His next thrust is harder, and he pushes Yunjin's legs even further back, her ankles now near her ears. Later she would reflect on how she's normally not this flexible, but if he can fuck the kinks into her, maybe he's fucking the flexibility into her as well.

"Breed me like I belong to you."

"Louder!"

"Breed me like I'm your BITCH!" The last word is a shriek as he thumps solidly against her cervix. Yunjin's alpha leans over her, allowing him to pound straight down into her creamy warmth. Her ankles hook around his neck as Yunjin's folded in half, and she screams out in delirious joy at being ferociously, if not brutally, mated. Over and over he slams straight down into her, until he latches his mouth to her neck and sucks on her skin hard, marking her while he pumps her full of seed. The warm explosion rips through her womb and goes straight to her feral brain, and Yunjin cums with him one final time, scratching deep red lines on his arms and back, all while shredding her vocal cords as she lets loose her loudest cry yet. 

"YES YES YES YESSSSS!"

The silence after is deafening, and Yunjin's world goes fuzzy and fades to black.

She wakes up late next morning, her body blissfully sore from the night before. Every muscle in her body felt like it was on fire, but the fire in her belly had been quenched, and Yunjin nestles into the bed a little bit more until reality finally calls in the form of her manager looking for her. She comes up with a flimsy excuse, but she knows she has to get up. Disappointingly Somi's boyfriend is nowhere to be found, and after Yunjin showers and dresses again, groaning the whole time in soreness, she finds what he left her on the desk.

I hope I was of help to you. I greatly enjoyed last night, and hope you did too.

P.S. Just in case

Where the hell did Somi find a guy like that? Yunjin thinks to herself. How can he be so polite, so considerate (Her clothes were folded in a neat pile on the couch!) after fucking her brains out last night? Regardless Yunjin feels a small amount of pride, knowing that he had enjoyed last night too. She also finds the morning-after pills he had left next to the note. Intrusive thoughts from last night still linger in her head—unbeknownst to him, the date he had picked, last night, was actually one of her more fertile days, and a primal part of her wants to flush the pills down the toilet and let things take their natural course, to let her alpha breed her. Yunjin's hand travels to her neck, feeling where he had shoved his cock down her throat and then choked her... God even that mere thought is enough to warm her body, and her hand drifts down her belly.

But no, it's a new day, and Yunjin claps her hands to her face, trying to clear her head. She takes the pills and washes it down with a glass of water. And with that, the fire in her womb is satiated.

For now.

A/N: Le Sserafim's song titles are too fun to play around with lol, they all can be made to sound kinda dirty XD So have more of Yunjin, thanks for reading!

[targaryen-dynasty]

STRESS RELIEF.

Daemon Targaryen x female!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; implied canon typical incest/ targcest (no named relationship other than husband & wife but reader speaks high valyrian), oral (m receiving), balls sucking, balls worship, cock slapping, breeding kink, fem reader (no mentions of appearance)

WORDS: 2.9 K

NOTES: I KNOW I said you won't get anything from me for the next two weeks, but this is an old story I love and edited, and I'm always in the mood to suck his balls. Ty Lana @zaldritzosrose 🤍

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

The door to your chambers bursting open with a thud, the thick wood slamming against the old masonry of Maegor’s Holdfast, is what forcefully pulls you out of your slumber.

As your eyes shoot open, you need a few seconds to adjust to the dim light of your chambers, the flame of the fireplace long extinguished and indicating it’s been a while since you found sleep.

Every sense of tiredness that has lingered in your bones vanishes suddenly at the noisy intrusion, more so as you spot the armor-clad silhouette of your husband standing at the threshold of your marital quarters.

He appears to be even more bulky and bull-like with the natural broadness of his shoulders accentuated by the heavy armor and the golden cloak, and just that sight alone has an aching desire filling your veins.

It’s the closer look you take that makes you aware of his labored breathing, chest rising and falling with heaving breaths, almost seeming as though he’s in great stress.

Whenever Daemon barges into your chambers at this hour, still wearing his armor, you know he needs to be consoled and pampered.

“Husband?” Your soft voice finally pierces through the silence, still thick with sleep from being awoken so abruptly.

A few, determined strides is all it takes him to enter the room, closing the door behind him as loudly as he’s opened it before. Although you know something is plaquing his mind, and that he’s not usually as harsh towards you as this, you still flinch at the thud.

Sitting up straight with the bedcovers bunched in front of your breasts, you have a puzzled look on your face. One of the few things Daemon has established fairly early into your marriage was the strict prohibition of you wearing any kind of smallclothes or nightgowns to bed, as he wants you to lie just as bare next to him as he always does.

He always states that there are quite a few practical reasons for it, with easier and quicker access to your cunt being the main one of them. Albeit you know for certain that he just loves to feel your skin on his when he falls asleep, solely embraced by the warmth and softness of your body snuggled up against his.

Clashing of metal accompanies his heavy footsteps as he approaches you, stern gaze fixed on your small frame.

The closer he gets, the more you are able to make out his chiseled features with long strands of his silver-blonde hair framing them perfectly. Even in the almost non-existent light of your chambers you notice the dark blown eyes, the adored lilac almost fully eclipsed by pitch black.

“Va aōha ybon,” he rasps, voice deep and commanding, and leaving no space for any kind of objection. On your knees.

You comply swiftly, the bedcovers thrown aside to reveal your naked form. A somewhat feral growl ripples through your husband’s chest at the sight, the curves and dips of your body enhanced by the light the moon casts through the windows.

The stone floor feels cold and hard as you sink to your knees, causing you to shift your weight from one knee to the other and back, trying to mend the discomfort at least slightly.

It usually requires your help to strip him off his heavy armor, but much to your surprise, Daemon manages to shred himself out of the majority of it all by himself, driven by sheer lust and hunger for you.

Where his silver hair is usually well combed and neat, the loose tresses now cascade down his shoulders and back visibly tousled and dirty.

Your hands lie folded in your lap, thumbs brushing over each other in a way to keep yourself calm. You have been married to Daemon for two summers, but know his silence never means anything good. It is threatening, and more often than not getting you into trouble, because he always has something to say.

As he stands in front of you in his full glory, only clad in a pair of dark breeches and a loose tunic, you hesitantly reach to place a hand on his sturdy thigh while his hand cups your cheek in return. Finding yourself leaning into the touch, you’re quickly repulsed as you catch a whiff of what smells like sweat, dirt and… iron.

“What have you done today?“ you ask innocently, though you aren’t sure if you want to hear his reply – that means if you even get one.

While the pad of his thumb brushes over the curve of your lips, his other hand slowly unlaces the front of his breeches, easing the confines of his half-hard member, and causing a wave of arousal to seep out of your cunt, anticipation making it clench around nothing.

“Oh, we have restored law and order,“ he purrs, the cocky smirk on his lips indicating that he’s more than satisfied with the outcome of it all. “The Kingsguard cleaned the streets from the city‘s scum.“

Listening intently, you just nod in acknowledgement, not at all surprised by your husband‘s actions. “And does the king know you did that?“

“I do not care if the king knows or not,“ he spits, impatiently tugging the front of his breeches down just enough to free his cock and stones. “He is blind, guided by the incompetent leech that claims to be his hand.“

A musky scent hits your nose when you catch sight of his thick cock. His musky scent, mixed with the salty smell of sweat. It has you licking your lips like a greedy whore, and if anything, you love it. It’s a sharp reminder that you have married a hardworking and ambitious man, and not a boy.

Your hand instinctively curls around his member, your index finger and thumb barely touching. His girth has always been something that impresses you. He’s considerable, leaving you wondering at times how it even fits into your mouth and cunt.

You slowly tug him to full hardness, stroking him the way you know he likes, even though your pace is a bit slower than usual. You listen to him rant about his brother, and the insolence of his hand, Otto Hightower, merely humming whenever your husband expects you to.

Once his cock stands to full attention, throbbing in your hand, you release it and instead fondle his stones, heavy and hot in your hand. The fleshy pouch they sit in is a bit darker than the rest of his pale skin and visibly sagged, but doesn’t hang too low.

Your actions earn a disapproving tsk from Daemon, despite the visible twitching of his cock at the new stimulation, and he wastes no time in fisting a good bit of your hair to shove your face towards his crotch. The scent is more prominent the closer you get, but not at all repulsing. Instead, it arouses you even more.

You’re not sure if it’s Daemon‘s usual lack of patience or his abnormal obsession with the king and his entourage that makes him greedy and needy for your touch, but you decide to not give in to him so easily.

Gently squeezing and fondling the sack of his stones, your tongue licks a flat stripe from the base of his member up to the bulbous tip of it. A salty taste lingers on your tongue, the few beads of his arousal quickly gathered and swallowed by you. You hum appreciatively at the taste, seemingly pleased to witness the affect your touch and presence has on your husband‘s body.

A sharp tug on your hair catches your attention and makes you yelp, your wide eyes finding your husband‘s demanding ones. “Quit playing games,“ he growls. A warning. But he should know by now that you are not one of his hounds, and what works with them doesn’t necessarily intimidate you.

Your tongue swirls around the tip of his cock, kitten-licking it until his heavy pants are replaced by annoyed huffs and grunts. Daemon doesn’t like you teasing him – not when he craves relief.

You keep your eyes neatly trained on him, studying his changing expressions to know whenever you’re playing with fire, and when it is best to follow his commands. Switching the positions of your mouth and hand, warmth brushes your face before the familiar musk seeps into your head.

Closing your eyes as all your senses are clouded by him, you latch on Daemon’s sac of stones, nuzzling your nose into the dark, coarse hair to take one of them in your mouth. Low purrs ripple from your throat, sending vibrations through his body.

You haven’t noticed, but your thighs clench and unclench repeatedly with each suck of your mouth, trying to soothe the aching settling at the apex of your legs. However, it doesn’t grant you the friction you crave.

“My, my, now look at that,“ Daemon coos. “Sucking my stones like a common whore. So desperate to have your mouth filled by me, hm?“

The condescending tone of his voice sends shivers up your spine, and you keen at the degrading nature of his words, moaning around his slightly slacked flesh.

Daemon is unable to tear his dark blown eyes from your full mouth struggling to take both of his stones. You’re trying so hard, but your mouth isn’t slack enough, causing you to nearly choke yourself trying to please him.

Droplets of your saliva dribble from the corners of your mouth down your chin, gathering in your jugular notch, and really making you look like you belong to the Street of Silk; a common whore desperate for her mouth to be stuffed by something, and not caring if it was filled by his stones or cock.

While you are messily suckling the sack of his stones, you tease a few licks up his length, tracing the prominent vein on the underside of it with the tip of your tongue.

You relish in the way he twitches and squirms under your touch, the deep grunts only spurring you on even more. But you also are soaked for him, core clenching and aching, begging to be used.

Daemon has started to tug himself off at the sight of your lips around his flesh, big hand the perfect size for his considerable length, while his other tightly fists into your hair to keep you where he wants you.

You hollow your cheeks around him, sucking with the tip of your tongue dragging over the sensitive skin. The familiar taste of manhood lingers on your tongue, and your jaw goes slack, finally managing to engulf his whole sac with your mouth. But when you try to pull away for a breath, Daemon only snorts and pulls you right back to his stones.

He harshly tugs on your hair, tilting your head back so you are forced to look at him when he slaps his hard cock against your face. Your saliva adds a sheen to his flushed skin, making him glisten in the dim light, and catches your attention, your eyes trailing over the length of his cock – you want nothing more than to feel those veins on your tongue.

As his cock repeatedly makes contact with your swollen lips and cheeks, the indecency of it all sends heat straight through your body, for it’s the first time he has ever done something like that.

Daemon bows forward, looming over your frame but coming close enough for you to feel his breath fanning over your face. Goosebumps prickle on your skin, and his intense lilac eyes send desire straight to your jumbled mind.

“What a wanton harlot you are,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Whores of the Silk Street do such things.”

While his degrading words go straight to your head, making you eager for more, you still cower beneath his dominating presence. “Yn ao hae ziry,” you reply, cocking your head sideways in an innocent way. But you like it.

It seems that your feigned innocence doesn’t convince him, because you suddenly feel something warm and wet dripping down your cheeks; his saliva. He has spat on your cheek, spreading it over your heated skin with a satisfied smirk ghosting over his features. Daemon rarely enjoys having you talk back at him, to tease him, and right now clearly isn’t one of those moments.

At the realization of what he’s just done, you feel your voice tighten in your throat, your lips pressing into a thin line as embarrassment floods your veins.

“Gaoman, yn…,” he muses, bending back and tracing the tip of his length along the slit of your pouty lips. “...nyke hae ziry tolī skori gaomā daor ȳdragon rȳ mirre.” With these words leaving his lips, his cock hits your cheek once again, almost as if he’s making fun of you. I do, but I like it more when you do not speak at all.

The grip on your hair loosens only for him to cup your cheek, fingertips digging sharply into the flushed skin of your cheeks. His other hand repeatedly taps the tip of his cock against your swollen lips in a demanding manner, begging for entrance.

“Open your mouth, or else I am opening it for you.”

You wet your lips, just the mere thought of having him down your throat causes a sense of soreness to linger in the back of it, and Daemon seems to notice your apprehension.

“I see your mouth begging for my cock, you filthy slut. Don’t act like an insufficient brat for you have done this plenty of times before.” He is right, but that doesn’t mean you’ll ever get used to his sheer size. Your thoughts, however, are cut short because Daemon isn’t Daemon, if he doesn’t take matters into his own hands.

The tip of his cock prods against your lips, and with the grip on your face tightening, you are all but forced to part them for him. There’s only little to no time to adjust to his size granted to you, because he sheaths himself inside of you in one, swift thrust.

A few seconds pass in which neither of you moves. Your nose is nuzzled against his pubic bone, the tip of it brushing the wispy trail of his hair, and you try to stifle the urge to gag and choke around him, your hands getting ahead with clutching his muscular thighs to keep yourself grounded.

Every muscle of his body twitches with pleasure as he grows accustomed to the warmth and tightness of you, his head tipping back to release a bawdy groan.

And then his hips start to buck into your mouth, allowing a wave of fresh air to fill your lungs when he almost completely pulls out; only the tip remaining embraced between your lips. A firm hand locks behind your head to stop you from pulling back.

Daemon’s hips thrust into your mouth with reckless abandon like he belonged into it, the bulbous tip hitting the back of your throat but never giving you anything you can’t handle. He knows you can take it, and that you like it.

The lewd noises of his soaked cock easing in and out of your warm mouth fill the room, spurring him on even more. At this point, you are soaking wet for him, droplets of your arousal leaking onto the stone floor beneath your legs.

Your cheeks hollow around him as you choke and sputter around his length, spit dribbling down your chin and bosom. His stones tighten with his cock throbbing on your tongue, ready to spend himself down your throat at any given moment, your previous teasing clearly coming in handy.

There are tears brimming in your eyes, unhelpful when all you want is to look up at him, watch how he scrunches his brow and puckers his lips as he gazes at you in rapture.

“That’s it,” Daemon groans, the pace of his hips faltering as he chases his release. “Take it all.” And that is when you felt it.

His hot seed spills down your throat, coating your tongue. You gag slightly when his hips start to stutter, cock twitching and pulsing with the force of his peak. Droplets of his seed spill from the corners of your mouth, mixing with your saliva and dribbling down your chin while you struggle to swallow the rest.

Nonsense spews out of his mouth as his groans grow more wanton, no doubt losing awareness of his volume. You are destined to be the main topic of the court's whispers in the morrow, just like your mother and father have been before you.

His fingers comb through your hair slowly, stroking your head as if he’s thanking you for a job well done, while he rides out his peak with languid thrusts of his hips.

When he finally stops to regain his composure, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he takes, he allows you to pull back from him, a string of your saliva connecting your swollen lips with the bulbous head of his cock, only breaking as you lick your lips to gather the remnants of his spent.

“Ñuha sȳz riña,” he rasps, pulling you up on your feet to capture your lips in a heated kiss. The taste of him on your tongue spreads over his tongue and causes him to groan. My good girl.

Like a man possessed, he flips you around and easily throws you onto your marital bed. When you land on your stomach with him following closely behind, mounting you and straddling your arse, you squeal and chuckle, ecstatic that it’s finally your turn.

“Tonight is the night I shall put a child into you. I want to see your body swell with my seed.”

Daemon Taglist: @barbiedragon @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel @avalyaaa @baizzhu @yn-jackson