#i mean the praise mixed with light degradation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skzophreniic · 19 days ago

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⍣ ೋ cw: explicit sexual content, neighbors to lovers, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), reader first orgasm, soft dom Han Jisung, emotional vulnerability, praise kink, mention of toxic relationship, slight exhibitionism (thin walls), slight degradation of ex-boyfriend, aftercare, fluff, soft angst (parental neglect), mdni

notes: in which han jisung hears you faking your orgasms through the walls of your apartment--and things spiral from there.

The walls in this building are a joke.

Half an inch of drywall. That’s all that separates his shitty one-bedroom from yours. He’s counted.

It’s not like he meant to know so much about you. He’s not trying to eavesdrop on every late-night argument, every hungover FaceTime call, every time you drag your heavy Econ textbook across the floor.

He just lives here.

And unfortunately, so do you.

Jisung never asked for the proximity. He never asked to know the way your voice rises when you're tipsy or how you only sing when you thinks no one can hear. But he does. He knows. He knows you eat too many frozen waffles and tha tyour microwave beeps twice before you remember to take shit out. He knows the name of your boyfriend, the sound of your laugh when you’re trying too hard, and worse—

The exact pitch of your moans when you’re faking it.

Because you fake it. Every damn time.

And he would know. He’s had the misfortune of being hard at 2AM with your paper-thin walls pressed against his back and that sorry excuse for sex filtering through his second-hand studio monitors like a mockery of porn.

It’s always the same: breathy gasps, your boyfriend’s awkward grunting, the bed springs squeaking like hell, and then—

“Oh my god, yeah, just like that...”

Flat. Perfunctory. The kind of moan that sounds practiced. Rehearsed. Completely unconvincing.

Jisung rolls his eyes and turns the volume up on his mix.

Not because it bothers him. Not because he cares.

It’s just distracting.

He’s got better things to do than think about the pretty girl next door faking orgasms like it’s a part-time job.

Like finish this track. Like land an actual gig. Like figure out how the fuck he’s going to keep affording rent in a city that eats people alive and doesn’t even burp after.

He’s not interested.

He’s not.

Except—

Sometimes he wonders what it would sound like if you meant it.

What you’d sound like if someone took their time. If someone made you come for real, dragged it out of your with fingers in your hair and lips on your neck and the kind of steady, brutal rhythm that doesn’t stop until you’re shaking.

What you’d sound like if it were him.

Jisung curses under his breath and drags his headphones off.

His eyes are dry. His dick’s half-hard. His track’s going nowhere.

Cool.

Maybe he just needs to… do something. Anything. Something mundane. Something that reminds him he’s a functioning adult with a trash bin and a spine and better things to focus on than the soft moans of the girl next door and the way they don’t sound quite right.

He grabs the overstuffed trash bag by the door, ties it with too much force, and makes a beeline for the hallway before he can talk himself out of it.

The fluorescent lights hum. The elevator’s broken again. Everything smells vaguely like burnt toast and someone’s fruity shampoo.

This building is hell.

He loves it.

Jisung drops the bag down the chute, lingers a second too long just to feel the rush of cold air against his face, then heads back.

He’s barely two doors away from home when he sees you.

You’re standing outside your apartment, arms crossed over your chest, loose sweatshirt slipping off one shoulder like it’s been a long night. Your boyfriend—Jason? Jared? Justin?—is leaning in too close, his mouth moving fast. Jisung can’t make out the words, but the tone’s familiar. Sharp. Defensive.

The boyfriend tries to kiss you.

You turn your face away.

Jisung doesn’t mean to stop walking. His feet just… do.

“I said I’m tired,” you mutter.

“Oh, you’re tired?” the guy snaps, way too loud for this dingy little hallway. “You weren’t tired twenty minutes ago when you were riding my dick, were you?”

Jesus.

Jisung should keep walking. Should disappear into his apartment and mind his business like he always does.

But instead, he just—

“Hey.”

His voice comes out cracked around the edges, like it hasn’t been used in a while. Which is accurate. He hasn’t really spoken to anyone in three days. Not unless you count the talking he does into the mic when he’s laying down verses at 3AM.

You both turn to look at him.

Jisung tries to smile.

It’s more of a grimace.

“You, uh…” he clears his throat, glancing at you instead of the walking ego next to you. “You okay?”

You hesitate.

The boyfriend doesn’t.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Jisung shoves his hands deeper into his hoodie pocket. “Neighbor.”

The guy blinks, then laughs. “Oh. So you’re the one blasting that emo SoundCloud shit through the wall every night?”

Jisung winces. A breath stutters out of him like he’s been lightly slapped.

Then he notices it—you wince, too. The tiniest flicker of guilt flashing across your face, so fast he almost misses it.

And yeah. Okay.

That stings more than it should.

“I didn’t say it was shit,”you mumble under your breath, clearly meant only for your own conscience.

“Don’t worry,” Jisung says quickly, forcing a light tone as he scratches the back of his neck. “It’s fine. Totally fair. Some of my stuff is… uh. Kinda dogshit.”

The boyfriend grins like he’s just won something.

“Glad we agree. Thought I was gonna have to explain how sound works to a wannabe DJ.”

Jisung opens his mouth—then closes it again.

Not worth it.

Definitely not worth it.

Except you’re still looking at him. Still standing there with your arms folded tight, sweatshirt slipping down further. And your face—

There’s something in it. Not pity. Not sympathy.

More like… regret.

He hates that it softens him.

The boyfriend, oblivious, barrels on. “Anyway, next time you feel like giving a concert at four in the morning, maybe wait until someone asks.”

“Next time you feel like giving headboard percussion lessons at two,” Jisung mutters, “maybe make sure she actually comes.”

The words leave his mouth before his brain catches up.

Instant silence.

You gasp. Cover it with your hand, like you’re trying not to laugh—or scream.

The boyfriend just stares at him.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Jisung shrugs, already stepping toward his apartment door. His hands are shaking a little, but he keeps his voice light.

“I mean, the moaning’s impressive. Real Oscar-worthy shit. But you’d think a guy who talks that much would at least know when he’s not doing it right.”

“You little—”

“Hey, man.” Jisung turns back for half a second, nodding at him with a crooked, tired smile. “If I can tell through the wall that she’s faking it, that’s not on her. That’s on you.”

He shuts the door behind him before the guy can even finish winding up his insult.

Click.

Deadbolt.

Silence.

Except for the thundering in his chest.

Jisung exhales hard, forehead thunking against the door. “What the fuck did I just do?”

He sinks down to the floor like his legs have given up. Which, to be fair, they kind of have.

This isn’t him. This isn’t what he does.

He doesn't talk back. Doesn’t mouth off. Doesn’t insert himself into other people’s messy lives—especially not yours. He barely speaks to delivery guys. Half his social life happens through a pop filter.

And yet.

“You’d think a guy who talks that much would at least know when he’s not doing it right.”

God. It was kind of funny.

But still—Jesus.

Jisung scrubs both hands over his face, embarrassment curling in his gut like a hangover.

Across the wall, he hears footsteps. Muffled shouting. The boyfriend’s voice, sharp with wounded ego. And then—

The unmistakable slam of a door.

Silence.

No more voices. No more fake moans. No more anything.

Jisung doesn’t move.

Eventually, when the silence stays long enough to feel safe, he hauls himself up off the floor. Brushes dust from his sweats. Tries not to replay what he said out loud like a greatest hits compilation of shit he absolutely should not have said out loud.

____________________________________________________________________________

He sleeps like shit.

Of course he does.

And when morning comes, it hits in a wave of cheap sunlight and neighborly noise.

He hears your usual routine unfold with near-perfect familiarity: fridge door opening, kettle clicking on, cabinet slam (twice—you always forget which one holds the instant coffee). Muffled cursing. Zipper. Then keys jingling against the lock.

He listens as you step out, lets the door fall shut behind you, and walks down the hall toward the stairs.

Everything is the same.

And none of it is.

Because this time, when you leave,your footsteps pause right outside his door.

Just for a second. A breath.

Then gone.

He groans and pulls the blanket over his face.

The rest of the day moves in its usual haze. Jisung does what he always does: noodles with a half-finished beat, eats instant ramen over the sink, ignores three texts from Chan asking for an update on the mix. His headphones stay around his neck most of the day, never quite getting used.

By sunset, the hallway is quiet again.

The beat he’s working on is shit. He knows it’s shit. He keeps tweaking it anyway.

It’s not even music anymore. Just sound. A bunch of clunky, disjointed loops that won’t glue together no matter how many times he messes with the tempo.

He’s just about to scrap the whole thing when—

Knock knock.

He freezes.

It’s soft. Measured. Hesitant.

He doesn't move right away—just sits there in his desk chair like someone just rang the doorbell in a horror movie. Then he leans back slightly, just far enough to peek over the edge of his laptop.

Another knock.

His heart does something stupid.

He stands. Pads barefoot to the door. Checks the peephole.

Of course it’s you.

You’re standing there in leggings and an oversized hoodie, arms cradling a plastic container like its armor. Your hair's pulled back, face bare. You look—

Small.

Unsure.

You lift one hand and knock again, even softer this time.

He hesitates a second longer, then opens the door.

Not all the way. Just a crack.

Your head jerks up. You blink. “Hi.”

He blinks back. “Uh. Hey.”

You shift your weight. “Can I—uh, are you busy?”

He opens the door a little wider, eyes flicking down to the container you’re holding. “No. I mean. Just… failing at music.”

That gets the faintest smile out of you.

“Right. Yeah. I, um…” You hold out the container. “These are for you.”

He stares. “Cookies?”

“Apology cookies.”

There’s a beat.

Then:

“I didn’t bake them,” You admit. “But I did walk two blocks to the overpriced organic place to get them. So. Effort was made.”

He blinks down at the container again, like it might disappear if he stares hard enough.

“Effort noted,” he mumbles.

You shift again, hugging your arms tighter. “You don’t have to eat them. I just—felt weird not saying thank you. Or sorry. You didn’t have to do what you did last night.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. Felt weird not saying something. So.”

You stand there in the doorway for a second, both of you clearly unsure of what to do now that the thing you came to say has been said. He should probably invite you in. Or take the cookies. Or smile, or make a joke, or something.

Instead, he clears his throat.

You jump in to fill the silence. “Also, just so we’re clear—I didn’t actually mean the SoundCloud thing. That was… low-hanging fruit.”

He raises an eyebrow. “So you’ve listened?”

That earns him a flush, bright and instant. “Not on purpose.”

“Wow.” He presses a hand to his chest. “What a glowing endorsement.”

“I’m just saying—I wasn’t trying to be a bitch. That wasn’t fair.” Your gaze softens. “Your stuff is good. Better than good, actually. The one with the—uh—strings and that lo-fi beat underneath?”

His eyebrows raise. “Track twelve?”

She nods.

His stomach flips. It’s ridiculous. But that track had been sitting unfinished for weeks, like something he wasn’t sure anyone but him would ever care about. And now she’s standing here—face bare, voice quiet—quoting it back to him like it meant something.

He doesn’t know what to say.

For someone who spends hours arranging syllables and syncopation for fun, it’s laughable how words immediately bail on him when they might actually matter.

“You, uh…” He shifts the container to one hand. “You’ve got a good ear.”

You smile. It’s small. A little sheepish. “I’ve got shit walls.”

That makes him laugh—quiet and surprised.

“I should let you hear more sometime,” he says, before he can talk himself out of it.

You tilt your head. “Yeah?”

“I mean—only if you want to. No pressure. I just thought…”

He trails off, scratching at the seam of his sleeve.

“I’d like that,” You say.

And he doesn’t know what to do with the warmth that blooms in his chest. It’s not huge. It’s not loud. But it’s there—steady and unexpected, curling under his ribs.

“Cool,” he says, voice softer now. “I’ll, uh. Let you know next time I make something new.”

You nod, then shift your weight backward—just enough to start retreating. But not before your eyes flick to his again, briefly, like you want to say something else.

He thinks might.

But all you do is smile—small and real—and take one step back towards your door.

“Goodnight, Han.”

His name on your lips feels like something it shouldn’t. Like a secret.

He nods. “Night.”

And then you turn. Cross the narrow hallway back to your apartment, keys already in hand. you hesitate at the door for half a second—he notices that, because of course he notices that—then slides the key in, disappears inside, and lets the door fall shut behind you with a soft click.

He watches the empty hallway for a beat longer.

He stares at his own door for a moment after he closes it, forehead pressed against the wood like the words you left behind are still floating in the air.

Goodnight, Han.

He hadn’t realized how nice his name could sound until you said it like that.

It echoes in his chest. Warms something that’s been cold for a while.

When he finally moves, it’s slow. He sets the cookies on the kitchen counter, grabs a pen, and flips open the nearest notebook—one he’s barely touched in weeks.

And he writes:

Track idea: starts quiet. Voice sample, maybe hers? Lo-fi beat behind it, soft keys. Let it build. Don’t let it rush. Let it breathe.

He underlines let it breathe three times.

Then he puts his headphones on.

And for the first time in a long time—

The music comes easy.

______________________________________________________________

You never planned on being friends with Han.

The boy next door with the quiet mouth and loud headphones. The recluse who only seemed to exist in studio beats and half-heard melodies through the wall. You knew his name before you knew his face—Han, printed on a mailbox slot too narrow.

Now he nods at you in the hallway. Smiles, even. You’ve learned that they’re rare, his smiles—crooked and shy, like they’re still trying to figure themselves out. You’ve started waiting for them.

Some mornings, you catch him in the elevator, hoodie pulled over messy hair, a takeout coffee in one hand and sleep in his eyes. You say hi. He says hey. He always holds the door for you.

It’s nothing. But it’s not nothing.

And then, one night—it’s something.

It starts with your friend’s voice, high and nervous. “I swear I had your keys. I swear they were just—fuck, okay, check your bag again—”

You’re too drunk to care. Or think. Or stand up straight

Your bag is wide open on the hallway floor, a war zone of receipts, gum wrappers, lip glosses with no caps, and an unopened pack of hot sauce packets you swear you didn’t steal from Taco Bell. Your friend is crouched beside it, frantically digging like she’s searching for buried treasure.

And that’s when the elevator dings.

You don’t even bother turning around. You’re too busy trying to balance one heel on top of a rogue pack of gum like it’s a tightrope.

Your friend, however, freezes. Then straightens sharply, whisper-hissing, “Oh shit—it’s your neighbor.”

You blink. “Which one?”

“The hot one.”

That gets your attention.

You turn—wobble—and there he is: Han. Grocery bag in one hand, hood halfway off, hair a little windblown. His eyes flick from your friend to you, then to the scene at your feet: your life in full chaotic display.

He pauses. Then says, with the softest little blink of disbelief,

“Uh… everything okay?”

You blink right back at him.

Then lean toward your friend—not subtly, not gracefully, and definitely not quietly—and whisper at full volume:

“You’re right, he is hot.”

It echoes.

Down the hall. Into the vents. Probably into the next dimension.

Your friend claps a hand over her mouth.

Han stares at you, frozen mid-step, grocery bag dangling like it no longer belongs to him.

You sway slightly. Flash him a winning, drunken grin. “Hi.”

His ears go pink.

He recovers with a cough and a quiet, “Hey.”

Your friend steps in, trying to salvage the moment. “She, um… lost her keys. And maybe her filter. And maybe also her last three brain cells.”

“I have at least five brain cells,” you argue, eyes still locked on Han like you’ve just spotted the last bottle of tequila on Earth. “Maybe six.”

“Okay,” your friend says sharply, grabbing your arm before you can say anything worse. “She’s drunk. She needs to sleep. You’re right next door. I trust you, I think. Will you—can you—?”

“I’ve got her,” Han says, voice gentle. Too gentle. Like he’s trying not to laugh but also trying not to die of second-hand embaressment.

He steps forward, freeing his hand long enough to steady you when you stumble again. His grip is warm, careful. You immediately lean into it like he’s a weighted blanket.

“Wow,” you murmur. “Strong and polite. A dangerous combo.”

He just smiles—shy and crooked, the way he always does when he doesn’t know where to put his face. “You good to walk?”

“No promises.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘maybe,’” he says, easing your arm over his shoulder.

Your friend sighs, already backing toward the stairs. “If she tries to seduce you, just tell her she cries at Disney movies and once got drunk and tried to fistfight a traffic cone.”

“I won, though,” you shout after her.

Han chuckles.

Your friend throws one last suspicious look over her shoulder, mouthing to Han, text me from her phone if she throws up, before disappearing down the stairwell.

And now it’s just you and Han.

And the heat of your skin pressed to his side.

And the wild, buzzing thought in your brain that you’ve never been this close to him before.

He shifts his weight. Glances down at you.

“You seriously okay?”

You nod. “I feel great.”

“You say that while using me as a crutch.”

“Yeah. But like—a sexy crutch.”

He laughs, head ducking slightly like he’s embarrassed for both of you.

But he doesn’t let go.

And he doesn’t stop smiling.

Han’s arm stays steady around you as he unlocks his door, grocery bag still dangling awkwardly from one wrist. He guides you inside carefully, flicking on the lights with his elbow and nudging the door shut behind you.

You blink, taking it in through a haze: tiny apartment, warm lighting, a bunch of wires and gear by the desk, no couch in sight.

He catches you swaying and steers you toward a plain padded chair by the wall. “Here, sit for a sec.”

You plop down like a ragdoll.

Han crouches in front of you instantly, gently tugging your heels off one at a time like he’s afraid you’ll tip over trying. “You good?” he murmurs, setting your shoes aside neatly. “Anything feel weird? Dizzy?”

You grin at him. “You’re so worried.”

He flushes instantly. “I just—yeah. I mean. You’re really drunk.”

“Yeah, but like, in a fun way.”

“Still,” he mutters, already handing you a bottle of water from the counter. “Drink this. Slowly.”

You take it. “You’re like a… a boyfriend. But like, a really responsible one. Like—tax-paying, call-my-mom-for-me energy.”

Han snorts and gets up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, you’re done talking now.”

“I’m not!” you call after him as he sets the grocery bag down. “I’m very interesting!”

He just shakes his head, trying (and failing) to hide his smile.

When you blink again, he’s in front of you, holding out a hand. “C’mon. Bed’s this way.”

You pause. “You only have one bed.”

His ears go pink. “You can take it.”

You squint. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

He shrugs, awkward. “Floor. I’ve got blankets.”

“That’s tragic.”

“I’ve survived worse.”

You pout but don’t argue as he pulls you gently to your feet again. You’re warm, wobbly, still clutching the water bottle like a security blanket, and when he steers you toward the bed, you barely resist at all.

He helps you sit, then hands you a second pillow and adjusts the blanket like he’s not trying to combust over how soft you look there. He’s halfway to standing up again when you tug the edge of the blanket higher and murmur:

“Thanks, Han.”

He’s still standing near the edge of the bed, half in the dark, blinking at you like you’ve just short-circuited every single brain cell in his head.

His voice is a little uneven when he says, “Y-Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

You smile at him, all cozy and soft, limbs draped across his sheets like you belong there.

He doesn’t even know where to put his hands.

“I, uh—” He scratches at the back of his neck. “I still have a bit of work to do. Just mixing something. I’ll, um. Be over here.”

You blink up at him. “What kinda work?”

“Music stuff.” His voice cracks a little, and he clears his throat immediately. “I won’t bother you. You can—yeah, you can just pass out. All good.”

“You don’t mind me on your bed?”

Han stares at you for a second too long.

Then jerks his gaze away. “No. I—I mean. No, definitely not. Like, at all.”

He fumbles over to his desk, nearly knocking over a pair of headphones, and drops into the chair like his legs have forgotten how to bend properly.

You snuggle deeper into the mattress, dragging the blanket over your legs with a dramatic sigh. “This is comfy. You have good taste in sheets.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, clicking around on his laptop even though the track’s already loaded.

You giggle.

He pretends not to notice.

You don’t see it—but his eyes flick to you constantly. Quick little glances when you shift, or sigh, or tuck your face into the pillow like it’s your new favorite thing. He can’t not look.

You yawn, cheek squished into his pillow. “You smell nice.”

He makes a sound that’s somewhere between a cough and a quiet plea for mercy. “You should, uh. Try to sleep.”

“Mhm.”

You don’t move.

Just keep lying there. All sweet and sleepy and tangled up in his blankets, on his bed, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And even though he should be focusing—he really, really should—

Han can’t stop smiling.

He turns back to his screen and presses play, the familiar beat fills his headphones, looping low and steady.

It’s not done—not even close. The layers are uneven, the bass too soft, the melody still fighting to find its place. But it’s something. And tonight, it’s the only thing keeping his hands busy while his mind refuses to stop thinking about you in his bed.

You’re quiet for a while.

He thinks maybe you’ve finally fallen asleep. You haven’t said anything in minutes, and your breathing’s slow, almost even. He lets himself glance over his shoulder.

You’re still awake.

Eyes open. Watching him.

You shift slightly under the blanket, cheek still pressed into his pillow. Your voice is soft, drowsy. “Can I hear it?”

He blinks. “What?”

“The track you’re working on,” you murmur. “Can I listen?”

Han’s heart does a somersault. Or maybe a backflip. Hard to tell through the static in his chest.

He turns fully in his chair. “Now?”

You nod, slow and lazy. “You promised. You said I could listen next time you made something new.”

Right. He had said that.

But not this one.

Not track twelve.

He fidgets with the headphone wire. “It’s not that one.”

You blink at him, confused.

“The one with the lo-fi strings,” he explains, voice quieter now. “Track twelve. I still haven’t finished it.”

“Oh.”

You don’t sound disappointed. Just curious.

He rubs a hand over his face, then offers a crooked little smile. “But you can hear this one. If you want.”

You nod again, eyes fluttering half-shut like the night is finally catching up to you.

He hesitates.

Then gently unplugs the headphones from the jack, letting the soft sound of the track fill the room.

It’s quiet. Dreamy. Bare bones but beautiful—slow, pulsing synth layered under a simple piano loop. There’s a vocal sample buried under the mix, something wordless and airy, like a breath that never ends.

You close your eyes fully this time, listening.

And Han watches you—watches the way your body relaxes into the sound, how your lips part just slightly, like the music is pulling something from you even in sleep.

He turns back to the screen, fingers hovering over the trackpad.

You speak again, barely above a whisper.

“It’s sad,” you murmur.

He doesn’t answer.

“Not in a bad way,” you add quickly. “Just… it sounds like it’s missing something. Like it’s looking for something.”

Han swallows.

Yeah.

That’s exactly what it is.

He stares at the waveform on his screen and says, very softly, “I think it’s trying to say something I don’t know how to say yet.”

You don’t reply. Not right away.

When you do, your voice is already trailing off into sleep. “You don’t have to say it. It’s already in the music.”

And then you're still.

Breathing even. Eyes shut.

Han doesn’t move for a long time.

Just sits in the soft blue glow of his screen, heartbeat slowing down to match yours, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to finish a song when the thing it’s missing is falling asleep five feet away.

______________________________________________________________

It’s been months since that first night.

Since the couchless sleepover, since the drunken key fiasco, since you fell asleep to the sound of his unfinished song.

And in that time, Han has come out of his shell in the slowest, sweetest way possible.

At first, he was shy. Still the hoodie-wearing recluse with his eyes glued to Ableton and his words tucked somewhere behind clenched teeth.

But then he started showing up more. At your door with takeout. With headphones and half-finished demos. With quiet, tentative smiles that stretched wider the more you smiled back.

You got to know him.

He told you about Malaysia—about sticky summers and midnight noodles and the way his parents still call twice a week even though they’re oceans apart. He told you how he moved to Korea for college, studied for a year, and then dropped out when he realized his brain was wired for sound, not textbooks.

You told him about your life, too—your parents and their ever-shifting conditions for love, the apartment they still pay for, the degree you’re grinding out just to prove something. To who, you’re not even sure.

And Han—turns out he’s kind of a chatterbox. Once he’s comfortable, the boy talks. About anything. About everything. With his hands, with his whole face. About samples and synths and the absolute travesty that is powdered parmesan.

Now, it’s like this: casual, constant, inevitable.

You crash at his place sometimes—not because you're locked out, but just because. Sometimes you bring your laptop and do homework on his floor. Sometimes you nap in his bed while he works. You keep a toothbrush there now. A hoodie of his has quietly migrated to your closet.

You even invited him to your graduation this spring. “It’s not like my parents are coming,” you’d shrugged, and Han had just blinked at you, then said okay, like it wasn’t the biggest fucking deal.

He still blushes when you call him hot. Still won’t take the bed when you stay over. Still treats you like you might disappear if he lets himself want too much.

And today, you’re at your place—your couch this time, legs tangled together on either end, killing time the way only two people who are too comfortable with each other can.

Lazy game of truth or dare. No real stakes. Just soft laughter and shared snacks and the kind of questions that teeter between teasing and tender.

Han’s fingers are brushing against your ankle, casual and unthinking. The popcorn bowl is somewhere on the floor, long forgotten. You’re both half-reclined, cozy and loose, a tangle of limbs and friendship that’s been threatening to become something else for weeks now.

You’ve already dared him to do his worst celebrity impression, and he’d made you sing a jingle from one of your old childhood commercials. The kind of dumb, lazy game that only works when you trust someone enough not to twist the blade when things get close.

Now it’s his turn.

“Truth,” you say, yawning, stretching like a cat in the sun. “I’m feeling vulnerable.”

He gives you a look. One brow raised, fingers tapping thoughtfully against his thigh. “Okay. What was your best orgasm?”

You blink.

Then laugh.

He flushes instantly. “Shit—was that too far? I thought we were in the spicy round.”

“No, no,” you say, waving a hand, trying to keep your smile light. “It’s fair.”

But you don’t answer right away.

You sit there for a second, fiddling with the hem of your oversized sleep shirt. His question settles somewhere low in your stomach—not uncomfortable, just… exposed. Like a truth you’ve learned to laugh off before anyone can look too closely.

You glance at him, then say it—half-teasing, like a joke you’ve told a few times before.

“I wouldn’t know.”

Han blinks. “You wouldn’t—?”

You shrug. “Never had one. Not a good one. Not any, actually.”

There’s a pause. His brows lift, lips parting slightly, but you beat him to it with a raised hand and a crooked grin.

“I know, I know. Tragic. I’m either defective or cursed. It’s a toss-up.”

He doesn’t laugh.

You thought he might—just to lighten the mood. Maybe roll with the joke, keep it casual.

But Han’s expression softens instead. Slowly. Like he’s putting something together.

“That’s not funny,” he says, voice quiet. Barely a wrinkle of sound between you.

You blink. “It’s kind of funny.”

“No, it’s not.” He leans in a little, eyes searching yours. “And it’s definitely not true.”

You hold his gaze for a beat longer than you mean to. “Tell that to every guy I’ve slept with.”

He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t flinch. Just says, soft but certain, “They don’t count.”

Something in your chest pulls tight.

You sit back, let out a soft exhale through your nose. Try again, lighter this time. “I mean, at some point, you start to wonder if it’s just you, right? Like maybe I missed a biological memo.”

“You didn’t,” he says, firm now. “You just haven’t been with someone who cared enough to figure you out.”

You snort softly, eyes dropping to his lips before flicking back up. “What, and you do?”

His breath catches, just slightly. But he doesn’t flinch.

“Yeah,” he says. Simple. Sure. “I do.”

You go quiet.

It’s not the answer that surprises you—it’s how steady he is when he says it. Like it’s not even a question in his mind. Like he’s already imagined it, already decided what he’d do if you ever let him.

That steadiness makes your throat go tight.

“Okay,” you say, voice quiet. “Then what would you do?”

Han shifts slightly, eyes locked on yours, his expression unreadable. Focused.

“I’d start slow,” he says, and it doesn’t sound like a line—it sounds like a plan. “Let you get used to being touched in a way that’s not… performative.”

You blink.

He leans in, just a little. Not close enough to touch. Not yet.

“I’d watch your face,” he continues, softer now, “and actually pay attention. I’d figure out what makes you squirm. What makes your breath catch. What makes you ask for more.”

Your pulse thrums at your throat, hot and sharp.

“I’d talk to you,” he murmurs. “Tell you what I’m doing. Tell you how fucking good you look while I’m doing it. Make sure you know every second that it’s about you.”

Your pulse thrums at your throat, hot and sharp.

You don’t say anything. You can’t.

Because Han is looking at you like he already has you spread out in his mind. Like he’s memorizing every microreaction, storing them away like he might need them later. Like he’s already tasting the sound you’ll make when he finally breaks you open.

Your voice comes out low. Barely there.

“That’s a lot of attention for one orgasm.”

Han’s mouth twitches. Not a smile. Not quite yet.

“I’m not aiming for one.”

You feel it in your chest—in your spine—the way his voice sinks into you. Low. Purposeful. Like he’s already in your skin, like the words themselves are a touch.

You can’t breathe.

He’s so close now, and still—still—not touching you. He could. He should. Your body is already leaning into the heat of him, legs still curled beneath you, the hem of your sleep shirt brushing high on your thighs. But he doesn’t move.

“Have you… done this before?”

He blinks. “Made someone come?”

You nod, quick, almost shy.

“Yeah.” His mouth lifts at one corner. “Why?”

You hesitate, eyes flicking over his face. “I… thought you were a virgin.”

Han blinks. Then he laughs—a soft, breathy thing that curls low in his throat.

“Wow,” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks already going red. “That’s, uh… new.”

You’re not teasing anymore. Not really. Not with the way your eyes keep flicking over him—his mouth, his hands, the pink creeping up the slope of his neck. Not with how you’re sitting up straighter, how your thighs squeeze just slightly together without meaning to.

He notices.

And it flusters him, of course it does—he’s Han, after all. All nervous energy and soft-spoken charm. But there’s something else underneath it too. Something steady. Something you didn’t see before.

“You really think I’ve spent this much time listening to you fake it through the walls and didn’t fantasize about doing it better?”

Your breath catches. Hard.

His gaze doesn’t drop. Doesn’t falter.

And suddenly, you’re seeing him for what he is—really seeing him.

The slightly older boy next door. The dropout with big hands and bigger dreams. The quiet music producer who hides behind humor but notices everything. The same Han who always opened his door, always gave you the bed, always walked on the street side of the sidewalk—but now you realize he’s been wanting you the whole time.

And you missed it.

You look at him now—and you feel it.

The shift.

Because he’s still Han. Still hoodie-clad and sweet and overly cautious.

But he’s also a man.

And god, it’s hitting you all at once.

The way his eyes haven’t left your mouth. The way he says things like I’m not aiming for one with such quiet, devastating confidence. The way he can be so careful with you and still make your skin burn like he’s already touched you everywhere.

You swallow hard.

“So,” you murmur, voice dipping low, “you’ve done this before.”

His fingers twitch where they rest against his thigh. “Yeah.”

“How many girls?”

He blushes harder at that. Clears his throat. “I mean, not a lot.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I’m not—” he fumbles, flustered now, voice high-pitched with embarrassment, “—like, I’m not some sex god, okay?”

You giggle. Can’t help it.

He glares, weakly. “Don’t look at me like that.”

You lean in. Let your voice soften. “Like what?”

He shifts under your gaze, eyes flicking down again before returning to yours. “Like you’re surprised.”

“I am,” you whisper.

And you are.

Surprised by the heat in your belly. Surprised by the tension in his jaw, the way he’s not looking away now. Surprised by the fact that the Han you thought you knew—the one who panicked over burnt rice and once apologized to a houseplant—is sitting in front of you, cheeks flushed, voice low, practically thrumming with restraint.

And the restraint is unraveling. You can see it. You can feel it.

His hand is still resting on his thigh. Tense. Useless.

You want it on you.

He must know, must feel the shift in the air, because he breathes out through his nose—shaky, controlled—and finally moves.

Not to kiss you.

Not yet.

Just slides closer, knees brushing yours. Hands braced on either side of your thighs like he’s holding himself back from climbing into your lap. Like if he gets too close, he won’t be able to stop.

His voice is soft when it comes. Careful.

“I don’t wanna mess this up.”

You blink. “What?”

“This,” he says, eyes darting between yours. “You. Us.”

Your heart kicks.

“I’m serious,” he adds. “If you want me to stop, I will. Even if I’ve already started. Even if you change your mind in the middle. I need you to know that.”

You just look at him.

At his flushed cheeks, his trembling fingers gripping the couch cushion, the way his eyes won’t stay still—darting to your mouth, your thighs, your eyes again.

You don’t know how to say what’s clawing up your throat. Don’t know how to explain that you’ve never felt like this. Like you could fall apart and not have to put yourself back together alone.

So instead, you reach for him.

You thread your fingers through his, bring his hand to your thigh—bare skin under the edge of your sleep shirt—and press it there, warm and waiting.

His breath stutters.

“Okay,” you whisper.

His breath stutters.

That’s all it takes.

His fingers flex against your thigh—just a twitch, nothing urgent. But the heat of them sinks in deep. You can feel how careful he’s being, how tightly he’s holding the leash on himself, like he doesn’t trust what’ll happen if he moves too fast.

You tilt your hips slightly. Just enough.

He moves.

Slides his hand higher, beneath the hem of your sleep shirt. Knuckles grazing soft skin, the inside of your thigh, and you’re already trembling. The anticipation is thick—so much thicker than anything that’s come before it. Your body’s aching and he hasn’t even touched you where you need it yet.

Han breathes out slowly. You can hear the effort it takes not to rush.

His fingers reach your panties.

They’re soaked. Clinging to you. And he makes a sound in the back of his throat when he feels it—somewhere between a sigh and a groan, like it’s hurting him, how wet you already are.

“You’re shaking,” he whispers.

“I’m trying not to.”

“You don’t have to,” he says, and leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth. “You can just let me take care of it.”

And you do.

You sink into the cushions and let his hand keep climbing. Let it trail over skin that’s already too hot, too tight, too aware. The hem of your shirt rides up over your hips as he moves, exposing soft skin and damp fabric.

He touches you through your panties first. Just a single stroke—up and down, slow, deliberate.

You jolt.

Your thighs twitch. Your hips tilt into his hand before you even mean to.

His fingers are steady. Gentle. No fumbling, no testing limits just to say he did. He strokes over the soaked cotton with maddening patience, slow enough that your body’s buzzing before he even slides them aside.

He strokes over the soaked cotton with maddening patience, slow enough that your body’s buzzing before he even slides them aside.

When he does, it’s with a breathless little sound—almost like awe.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, voice low and tight. “You’re so wet already.”

You shiver.

He doesn’t ask permission again. He doesn’t need to. Your legs fall open on instinct, your body already offering itself up like it’s been waiting for this. For him.

He dips his fingers into you with quiet care—just the first two, slow and unhurried, and it’s so much. Not just the stretch, not just the slick slide of it—it’s the way he groans like he can feel how good you feel around him. Like your body is turning him on just by existing.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “How has no one made you cum?”

You whimper.

“Seriously,” he says, fingers curling slightly inside you, rubbing against that spot that makes your toes curl. “You’ve got the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. Wet and warm and just—fuck, baby.”

Your hips jolt when he says it—baby—and he notices. His mouth quirks.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, watching your face like it’s giving him instructions. “You like that. Being talked to while I fuck you with my fingers?”

You moan—helpless, high-pitched—and your hand shoots down to grab his wrist.

He stills immediately. “Too much?”

You shake your head. Or maybe you nod. You don’t even know anymore—your brain’s barely holding on, your body dragging you under, soaking up everything he gives like it’s the first drop of water in a drought.

He watches your reaction like it’s gospel. Like every twitch and gasp is holy.

“Thought so,” he says, and starts to move again—slow, controlled pumps of his fingers, careful not to lose that rhythm now that he’s found what works. The way your walls clench when he curls. The way your hips chase him when he retreats. The way your breath hitches when his palm drags across your clit just a little too hard.

And god, he uses it all.

“Fuck,” he mutters, eyes glued to where he’s working you open. “If this pussy was mine, I wouldn’t be able to leave you alone.”

You gasp.

“I’d keep you like this every night,” he says, voice thick now. “Stuffed, dripping, begging for it. Just like this.”

You keen, head falling back against the cushions, thighs straining around his wrist. Another twist of his fingers, another filthy curl, and you’re spiraling again—clenching, grinding, chasing something you’ve never actually caught before.

But it’s still not enough.

Close, so close. You can feel it in your gut, in the burn behind your eyes, in the way your whole body draws tight like a wire about to snap. But then it slips, slithers away like it always does, leaving you aching and wrung out and panting like you’ve been running in circles.

Han doesn’t stop.

He slows, sure. Eases off that pressure like he knows—like he felt the way you were peaking and watched it fall apart all over again.

Your breath stutters. Your hands tremble where they’re gripping the couch cushions. Your whole body shakes with the frustration of it.

Han looks fucking thrilled.

“Shit,” he whispers, eyes glued to the slick mess between your legs. “You’re gonna be a fucking problem, huh?

You whimper—shaky, half-desperate—and try to pull your legs closed, but his free hand slides up your thigh and keeps them open. He’s still panting, still hard in his sweats, and yet somehow entirely focused on you.

Your voice comes out broken. “I can’t—fuck, Han, I was so close—”

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over you. His fingers finally slip free, soaked and shining, and he brings them to his mouth like it’s nothing. Like tasting you is just a thing he does between breaths. “You’re so fucking pretty can’t believe no one’s ever made you come.”

He sucks one finger between his lips, humming low in his throat, and your entire body jerks.

He grins around his knuckle. Blushy. Sweet. Still Han, somehow—except his eyes are dark now, slow-burning, locked onto you with intent.

And when he speaks, it’s not teasing. It’s reverent.

“I knew you’d taste good,” he murmurs, dragging his hand down your thigh again. “Didn’t think you’d ruin me this fast, though.”

You squirm, still reeling from the touch of his fingers, still aching from how close you came—how it slipped just out of reach. Your panties are somewhere around your knees now, tangled and damp, and your thighs are trembling despite the warmth of the room.

But Han doesn’t give you time to settle.

He drops back down between your legs like it’s instinct.

Like he belongs there.

You brace for it—his mouth, his tongue—but nothing prepares you for how intentional it is.

Because when he licks you, it’s not just lust. It’s devotion.

The first press of his tongue is slow, hot, drawn out like he’s tasting something forbidden. It drags through your folds, slick and maddening, before he pulls back just slightly and exhales a shaky breath against your cunt like it’s worship.

“Fuck,” he whispers, voice wrecked. “You’re so fucking sweet. So wet—dripping for me, baby.”

Your hips jerk. A soft moan tears from your throat, helpless and startled.

He hums at the sound. And then his tongue is on you again—lapping, curling, sliding in lazy circles around your clit, not rushed, not rough. Patient.

But it’s overwhelming.

Too much and somehow still not enough.

You gasp, spine arching. Your thighs twitch against his shoulders again and he presses his hands there—holding you open, keeping you still. His grip is firm, grounding. Gentle only in contrast to the way he eats you.

He groans low when your hips roll, when your slick coats his lips and chin. Like it turns him on more than anything else. Like this is the part he needs.

He devours you like he’s starved for it.

Like he’s been thinking about this—you—for longer than he’s willing to admit. Tongue slow but deliberate, savoring every stroke, every gasp you give him. He doesn’t speak now, doesn’t need to. The sounds alone—your moans, the wet suck of his mouth, the way your breath stutters every time he flattens his tongue against your clit—say enough.

But it’s your reactions that do it. The way your body jumps every time he moves just right. The way your hands scramble for the couch cushions, for him, like you don’t know what else to hold onto. The way your thighs clamp around his head when he groans into your cunt.

That’s when he realizes.

You’ve never been eaten out before.

It hits him all at once—in the way you shiver, in the way your body doesn’t quite know how to take the pleasure he’s giving. There’s something raw about it. Uncharted. Holy.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t tease. Just lets the knowledge settle deep in his chest like a vow.

So he slows down. Not to drag it out—to care. To guide you through it.

He pulls back just slightly, presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another one, lower, softer. You can feel his breath against your skin, shaky and uneven, like you are unraveling him just by letting him do this.

He kisses down, worshipful, open-mouthed presses of tongue and lips trailing toward where you’re slick and trembling—until he’s back on you, groaning deep in his chest like he needs this to survive.

He laps at your cunt like a man obsessed. Messy, wet, obscene.

His tongue flicks fast over your clit, sloppy and relentless, and when you whimper—high and panicked—his hands tighten on your thighs, dragging them wider, pushing you open like he can’t get enough. His nose presses into the soft swell of you and his mouth won’t stop.

And god—god, the noises.

The slick suck of his mouth, the soft wet licks between your folds, the broken, wanton moans he keeps letting out like your taste is fucking euphoric.

Your thighs are trembling against his cheeks, toes curling against the cushions, hands fisting in the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this plane of existence. Every time you start to come down, he drags you right back up—tongue flicking, then flattening, then sucking.

You’re soaking him. You know it. Can feel the slick mess coating his lips, his chin, now—but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t even flinch. Just dives in deeper, grinds his mouth against you like it’s the only thing that matters.

And maybe it is.

You’ve never made sounds like this before. Never felt anything like this. It’s a full-body unraveling—pleasure so raw and high-pitched it’s almost unbearable. You can’t even find words anymore. You try—gasp out his name, maybe a plea, maybe a warning—but it’s just breath. Just noise.

He hears it anyway.

Groans in response, and the vibration shoots through you—tightens every nerve, every muscle. You feel it everywhere. In your spine, in your belly, in your fucking teeth.

He licks through your folds like he’s trying to commit the shape of you to memory, tongue dragging over your clit in slow, hard laps now—intentional, devastating. One hand lets go of your thigh to slide underneath you, to lift your hips, tilt you toward his mouth like an offering.

Like you’re his altar and he’s ready to worship.

You don’t even realize you're crying until the tears hit your cheeks—silent and sudden, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of it, the depth of it, the relentlessness of him.

Jisung doesn’t notice.

Or maybe he does and just thinks it’s holy.

Because he’s still moaning against your cunt like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Like this is salvation. Like this is his first time, too.

The warmth is unbearable. Sharp and sweet and all-consuming, climbing up your spine in thick, molten waves that won’t stop—won’t let you go. Your muscles are locking up, your breath catching in your throat, your fingers cramping from how tight you're clenching the cushions.

You’re going to break.

You know it.

You want to.

And he just keeps going—tongue pressed flat and firm against your clit now, dragging in slow, filthy circles while his lips suck softly, reverently, like he’s trying to love you apart piece by piece.

You feel it snap somewhere deep inside you.

The heat—the ache—the need—it peaks.

And then it bursts..

Your thighs clamp around his head, your hips jerk off the couch, your moan rips loose from your throat like you’ve been silenced your whole life and this is the only language your body ever needed to speak.

You’re cumming. Hard. Helpless.

Everything pulses—your cunt, your chest, your fingers. Every nerve is alight, every inch of you clenched and shaking, your whole body seized in the grip of something so big you can’t name it.

And Jisung doesn’t stop.

Not when your legs twitch.

Not when your body tries to squirm away.

Not even when you sob his name, high and wrecked, too sensitive to breathe.

He eats it up. Literally.

Groaning low in his throat, nose pressed to your mound, tongue still working your clit like he wants to wring another orgasm out of you before this one’s even ended. You try to stop him, legs trembling, fingers pushing at his hair with barely any strength behind them.

But he just moans again, long and loud and ruined, the vibration shooting straight through your core.

“H-Han—” you gasp, voice cracked and teary.

But he can’t stop. He won’t.

You’ve broken open for him—shattered for him—and it’s like something inside him snapped too. His mouth keeps moving, lapping through your folds like he’s addicted, like he needs the taste of you to live, sucking every drop from your body like he’s trying to memorize it.

You try again to push him off. This time with real effort. A desperate shove, your fingers fisting in his hair and yanking—not hard, not mean, but urgent.

“Han, please—”

He finally pulls back.

Gasps.

His chest is heaving. His mouth is slick and swollen, the lower half of his face soaked in your release, and he blinks up at you like he forgot where he is.

“Shit—fuck, I’m sorry, I—” he pants, voice wrecked, dazed.

Then he looks down.

And groans.

Because you’re still dripping.

Slick pooling out of you, slow and obscene, catching the light as it runs in glistening streaks down the curve of your pussy and the swell of your ass, soaking the couch beneath you.

And he can’t help himself.

His hands slide up your thighs again—possessive, reverent—and before you can stop him, he leans back in.

One long, filthy lick—from your entrance to your clit—slurping up everything you spilled. He moans as it hits his tongue, deep and satisfied, and swirls it around like he’s tasting honey.

He pulls back just far enough to look at you.

Face flushed, lips swollen and slick, chin glossy with your release. His eyes are glassy—fucked-out and starving and soft in a way that shouldn’t match the filth of what he just did to you. But somehow it does.

Somehow, it makes it worse.

He’s panting like he just ran miles. Sweat dampens his curls, his hoodie clings to his chest, and his cock is still straining hard against his sweats—visibly aching. But he doesn’t even look at himself. Doesn’t even care.

He’s still looking at you.

At the mess he made.

At your cunt—pink and soaked and fluttering with aftershocks, spread open on the couch like he carved you out just for him.

And he fucking smiles.

“Jesus,” he breathes, dragging his thumb along your inner thigh, slow and lazy, eyes still locked on the slick between your legs. “You’re unreal.”

You’re still trembling—wrung out, flushed, completely silent now except for the shattered sound of your breath.

But he isn’t done.

Not really.

Because then his thumb moves—trails closer, closer, until it’s swiping through the slick seam of you, collecting it, spreading it.

You flinch, hips twitching, breath hitching on a wrecked little gasp.

He freezes.

“Sorry—shit, sorry,” he murmurs, voice gone soft in the edges. “You’re probably so fucking sensitive right now.”

You nod, dazed. Barely. You’re not even sure you meant to.

But his eyes drop back down—and the sight of your cunt twitching under his touch, the way slick is still dripping out of you, slow and shiny, pooling where your thighs meet—

It short-circuits whatever restraint he had left.

“Can I…” he starts, already leaning in again, lips parted, breath ragged. “Just—one more taste, baby. Please.”

And before you can answer, he’s there again.

Licking into you.

Tongue flat and greedy, slow and deep, sliding through the wreckage he left behind like he needs it to breathe. He moans—loud—when it coats his tongue, when it drips down his chin, when he presses another kiss to your clit like he’s thanking it for everything.

You can’t stop shaking.

From how tender he’s being while still devouring you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. From how overwhelmed your body feels—stretched between too much and not enough, oversensitive but still wanting.

He doesn’t rush now. Doesn’t try to make you cum again.

This is different.

It’s reverent. Like he’s cleaning you up with his mouth, dragging his tongue through every slick drop, pressing soft kisses into the mess like he’s trying to soothe the tremble in your thighs.

You whimper, just once—raw and hoarse.

That’s when he stops for real.

You sigh into his mouth, quiet and trembling, the kind of sound that only comes when everything inside you is raw—peeled back, exposed, open. He swallows it like it’s precious. Like it matters.

His hand at your waist shifts, pulling you gently forward until your chest brushes his. You’re still bare from the waist down—thighs sticky, breath uneven—and he’s still clothed, still hard, still aching beneath his sweats.

But he doesn’t grind against you.

Doesn’t ask for anything.

He just holds you.

Your knees fall around his hips, lazy and loose, and his thumb strokes the hinge of your jaw—slow, absent, like he needs the contact to stay calm.

The kiss deepens. Not with hunger. With heat. With reverence. His lips move against yours like he wants to memorize the shape of your mouth, your breath, the taste of your tongue mixed with your own arousal.

You break first—pulling back just a fraction to breathe, eyes fluttering open.

He’s already looking at you.

And there’s something in his gaze that wasn’t there before. Something stunned. Struck. Soft.

He whispers, “You okay?”

You nod. Maybe too fast. You feel stripped down to something small and shaking, something new—but his hand doesn’t leave you. His thumb still brushes your cheek. His chest still rises and falls like he’s feeling everything with you.

You whisper back, “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

Jisung exhales a laugh—wrecked and wrecking.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, leaning forward again to press a kiss to your cheek, then another to your temple. “Then I guess we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

You don’t even realize you’re smiling until he kisses it. Presses his lips right there, at the corner of your mouth, so gentle it makes your eyes sting all over again.

There’s a beat of silence—thick and golden, warm between the ruined rhythm of your breathing.

Then he asks, quieter this time, “Can I hold you for a while?”

And god. You’ve never wanted anything more.

______________________________________________________________

The crowd pours out of the auditorium like a tide—caps slightly askew, diplomas clutched tight, families gathered in little clusters of congratulations and cameras. Laughter. Shouts. The click of heels and the flutter of gowns. You scan the crowd, heart racing, eyes darting.

And then you see him.

Leaning awkwardly against a tree, holding a slightly crumpled bouquet of grocery store flowers and dressed in the nicest outfit you’ve ever seen him wear. Still a hoodie—because he’s him—but it’s black and clean and zipped halfway up over a plain white tee. His hair’s been pushed back, curls tamed, face soft in the sunlight.

Like he wanted to look good.

For you.

You run.

Full sprint, no hesitation. Laughing, radiant, the hem of your gown flying behind you. And Jisung barely has time to react before you crash into his arms—legs wrapping around his waist, face buried in his neck.

He catches you without thinking. Arms locked tight around your back, holding you like the whole world could fall away and he’d still have you.

“Jesus—hi,” he breathes, stunned, grinning into your shoulder.

“You came,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to look at him, eyes glassy and sunlit.

“Of course I came,” he murmurs, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “I wouldn’t miss this.”

You swallow, smile trembling just a little. You’re still holding your cap too tightly. Still searching the crowd behind him, over his shoulder, behind trees and between cars—hoping.

And Jisung sees it.

Sees the flicker in your expression when you realize no one else is coming. No familiar voices calling your name. No parents weaving through the crowd, late and disheveled but here. Nothing.

Just him.

You try to play it off—force a smile, tilt your head.

But Jisung just exhales, jaw tight, eyes warm and sharp.

“Hey,” he says softly, tipping your chin up. “Fuck ‘em.”

Your breath hitches—more from the way he says it than what he says. No apology. No pity. Just truth, blunt and biting and yours.

“Fuck ‘em,” he says again, firmer this time. “They don’t get to take this from you.”

And something in you cracks. Not the kind that breaks—the kind that lets light in.

Your cap slips from your hand to the pavement. You don’t even notice. You just lean forward and let your forehead rest against his, eyes fluttering shut as the noise of the world fades away.

“I thought it wouldn’t matter,” you whisper. “That I didn’t care.”

He nods like he already knew. Lets his hand fall to the small of your back, thumb tracing slow circles through the fabric of your gown.

“But it does,” you admit.

“Of course it does,” he murmurs. “You deserved more than this.”

You pull in a shaky breath. Exhale. Nod against him.

And then you laugh—quiet, almost startled. “God, you look nice.”

He pulls back just enough to give you a crooked smile. “You noticed?”

You sniffle, wiping under your eyes. “You did your hair.”

“I used product and everything,” he says solemnly, and that makes you laugh for real this time. His face lights up at the sound. Then, like he remembers something, his eyes go wide and he fumbles for something in his pocket.

“Wait—here. Got you something.”

You raise a brow as he pulls out a pair of slightly beat-up white AirPods and holds them out like they’re wrapped in silk.

“Your... earwax?” you tease, voice still thick, but lighter now.

Jisung groans, face going red. “Just put them in, smartass.”

You give him a look, lips twitching like you’re holding back another laugh, but you take them. Slip them in with practiced ease, still smirking, still sniffling a little.

And then—

You hear it.

Soft at first. A low, warm hum of synth. That familiar piano progression you’ve heard a hundred times echoing from his bedroom speakers, half-finished and always evolving. A quiet heartbeat of static underneath, the sound of something personal, unfinished—

But not this time.

Now it’s whole.

The bass comes in slow. The melody rises. The rhythm finds its footing like it’s been waiting for you.

Then his voice.

His voice.

Low. Raw. Stripped back and unfiltered, like he recorded it in the middle of the night, barefaced and half asleep. It’s not polished. It’s intimate. Each lyric laid out like a confession, like he’s pressing it directly into your chest.

You freeze.

Your mouth parts, but no words come out. You just stare at him—eyes wide, breath caught, the world suddenly nothing but him and the song in your ears.

Jisung watches you closely, fidgeting, clearly trying to read your face.

“I, uh… I finally finished it,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Track 12. I—kind of stayed up all night working on it. Wanted you to be the first to hear it.”

You swallow hard. “You—wrote this… for me?”

He nods, sheepish. “Well, yeah. Who the fuck else would it be for?”

You blink at him, still stunned, still half-floating somewhere between the melody and his smile.

The music wraps around you like a secret, like sunlight through a window. His voice in your ears. His eyes on your face. His hands fidgeting at his sides, picking at the edge of his hoodie sleeve, suddenly nervous like he didn’t just lay his heart bare in a three-minute track.

And then he says it.

Quiet. Almost like it slips out.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your breath stutters.

He panics a little, eyes going wide, hands gesturing now like he’s trying to physically catch the words and shove them back into his mouth.

“I mean—not in like, a weird, ‘I wrote you a song and now you have to marry me’ way. I just—I’ve been in love with you for a while, and I didn’t know how to say it. And then I kept not saying it, and then you let me eat you out on your couch and I was like, oh cool, guess I’m definitely in love with her—”

You stare at him.

Mouth slightly open. Ears still ringing with his voice from the track. Face flushed from the heat of him and the way he’s unraveling in front of you, hands flailing, words tumbling out too fast, too honest, too him.

“And now I’m saying it,” he rushes on, breath hitching. “And maybe it’s too soon or maybe it’s stupid but—fuck, I don’t care. I love you. And I don’t just mean in the afterglow, post-head, 'wow-she’s-so-pretty-when-she’s-cumming' kind of way—which, like, you are—but I mean in the real way. In the way where I think about you all the time and you’re in my music and my coffee and my fucking laundry detergent because you smell like it now—”

You cut him off with a laugh—soft and stunned, the kind that comes from something blooming too fast in your chest. Your hands reach for him instinctively, palms pressed to his chest like you’re trying to slow his heart down, or maybe match yours to it.

Then lean up and kiss him.

He melts into it—hands landing on your waist like he’s afraid you’ll float off if he doesn’t hold you down. His mouth is soft, a little shaky, like he still can’t believe this is happening. Like he’s kissing you with both hands behind his back, offering up his heart like a truce.

When you pull back, your forehead rests against his.

You’re smiling. He is too, in that breathless, stunned way—like you’ve both finally exhaled.

“I’m in love with you too,” you whisper.

He chokes out a sound. Somewhere between a laugh and a gasp. “No shit?”

You nod. “No shit.”

Jisung blinks, then grins—slow and wide and boyish.

He just stands there, still holding you, like his body hasn’t caught up with what just happened.

Like he's trying to memorize this moment—your smile, your closeness, the soft heat of your hands resting over his heart.

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else. Closes it again.

Then settles for a quiet, breathless, “...Okay.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Okay?”

He nods, dazed. “Yeah. Just… okay. Everything’s okay now.”

You lean into his chest, let your head fall to his shoulder. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for months. His arms wrap around your waist again, this time more certain. More steady.

And for a moment, neither of you says anything.

The crowd is still bustling in the background. Cameras flashing. Tassels swinging. Parents calling names that don’t belong to you. The sound of it used to sting—but not now. Not with him holding you like this. Not with the song still echoing in your ears, a private chorus written just for you.

You glance up. “So what now?”

He looks down at you, still smiling like he doesn’t know how to stop.

“We go home,” he says. “Order too much food. Fall asleep on the couch. Pretend we’re not both crying during The Office reruns.”

You snort. “That’s your big plan?”

He leans in, nudges your nose with his. “No,” he murmurs, softer now. “My big plan is to love you for a really, really long time.”

Your heart stutters.

And it’s so simple—so quiet, so uncomplicated—but it wraps around you like warmth, settles deep in your bones like something you forgot you were allowed to want.

You tip forward and kiss him again, just once. Just enough.

“Sounds like a good plan,” you whisper.

He grins. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Eventually, your fingers find his, threading together as the crowd begins to thin. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, grounding and sure.

You glance down at the flowers, still clutched in your other hand—slightly crushed, petals soft and folding in from the heat. But they’re yours. Someone showed up. Someone stayed.

You’re walking away with his hand in yours, the sun dipping low behind you, the final track still playing softly in your head.

It ends the way all good songs do.

Quiet.

Certain.

Yours.

1K notes · View notes

witchywithwhiskey · 10 months ago

Text

room for one more

pairing: movie star!bucky barnes x female reader x movie star!steve rogers

summary: you meet your boyfriend's best friend for the first time, and he perfectly matches the energy of your relationship. then, what was meant to be a fun night for the three of you, turns into something more.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, threesome, piv sex, anal sex, double penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f and m receiving), anal fingering, come eating/swallowing, come play, semi-public play, light bdsm, check-ins, marking/bruises, teasing, edging, light overstimulation, some m/m (kissing and hand-holding), dirty talk, praise kink, light degradation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), aftercare, established relationship, happy ending polycule

word count: 12.2k

a/n: i was inspired by those pics from last month at the walk of fame ceremony, and this was originally just going to be a fun, flirty threesome. but then as i was writing, the characters decided we were adding some bucky/steve to the mix, so here we are!!! i haven't written anything like this before so i hope i did ok 🫣 also i did not mean for this fic to be so long but i had so much fun writing it, i just couldn't stop hahah anyway! hope y'all enjoy!!!

A jolt of excitement shot down your spine when you recognized Steve Rogers approaching through the crowd beneath the white canvas tent set up on Hollywood Boulevard. Your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, must’ve felt the way your body tensed as you sat beside him, because his hand tightened on your bare thigh.

Bucky wasn’t looking at you—he’d caught sight of his oldest friend, and the corners of his mouth were flickering in the way they did when he was trying to repress a grin—but you could feel his own excitement in the way his fingers dug into your soft flesh. You had a feeling you weren’t the only one thinking about the plans you, Bucky and Steve had for that evening.

But then your boyfriend’s touch was gone and Bucky was standing to greet his oldest friend with a tight hug. There were even a few enthusiastic back pats thrown into the mix. It was clear the men were happy to see each other.

You watched the interaction, fascinated. In all the time that you’d been dating Bucky, you hadn’t met his childhood friend, nor had you seen them interact, and you couldn’t help but notice the way he relaxed in Steve’s presence. Bucky’s shoulders loosened and his smile was easier. Normally, he’d be tense in a crowd surrounded by photographers, and look to you for comfort—and you were always happy to give it.

But it seemed you weren’t the only person who could have a calming effect on Bucky, and it made you smile to see him catch up with Steve, a sense of happiness settling into your heart as you watched your boyfriend talk to his best friend. There was an easiness to their interaction that spoke to their decades of friendship, and instead of feeling put out that Bucky hadn’t introduced you yet, you understood he needed a moment with Steve.

It had been months since they’d last seen each other, and they’d only been reunited for the Walk of Fame ceremony you were attending with Bucky, where a director he and his best friend had both worked with was receiving a star. The director had discovered Steve and Bucky when they were younger, giving them their first roles that eventually led to their careers in Hollywood.

“Is this your girl?” Steve asked, his friendly voice pitched a little louder so you could hear it over the crowd of people all crammed beneath the tent. You looked up and found Steve’s face tilted down toward you, his attention making you feel warm all over. There was a playful, devastatingly handsome tilt to his mouth as he asked, “The future Mrs. Barnes?”

Steve held out both of his hands to you and you tipped your head back with a laugh as you slipped your fingers into his palms. He helped you to stand, his hands smoothing up your arms to your elbows, then pulled you into his orbit as he leaned in to brush kisses to both of your cheeks.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Steve,” you murmured in between skimming your lips over his whiskered cheeks, enjoying the prickle of his beard against your soft skin.

Since you were so close, Steve’s warm, woodsy scent washed over you. Somehow, it went straight to your head and your core, making you sway a little on your heels as a warmth bloomed deep in your belly. You had to repress a shiver and hold yourself back from burying your face in Steve’s neck to inhale more of his delicious smell as you leaned back from your greeting.

“The pap photos don’t do you justice, sweetheart, you’re much more gorgeous in person,” Steve rumbled, his hands giving your arms a light squeeze before he stepped back to a more polite distance.

You felt bereft without Steve’s touch, and you reached instinctively for Bucky’s hand. Your boyfriend slid in next to you, catching your fingers in one of his hands while the other settled against your lower back. His familiar cologne filled your senses and you smiled up at him, feeling steadier as you leaned into Bucky. In your chest, your heart was racing, and you tried to make sense of the riot of emotions in your belly.

Thankfully, Steve’s comment about paparazzi got the men talking about their least favorite aspect of working in Hollywood and you could take a moment to collect yourself.

As you did, you took the opportunity to look at Steve properly.

Of course, you’d seen him in movies, and in plenty of photos on social media. You’d even seen him in some pictures of the two friends that Bucky had hanging in the brownstone you shared together in Brooklyn. But it was a different thing entirely to see your boyfriend’s Hollywood heartthrob best friend in person.

Steve had made a name for himself in the business as the golden boy action hero, leading a franchise that had grossed over $2 billion with just three movies. In his mid-30s, he had his pick of any blockbuster movie role in town, and he had the looks and the talent to make whatever film he chose a success.

Your eyes, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, raked down Steve’s body, and it struck you how much he looked like the epitome of an action hero with his broad shoulders and trim waist. His biceps bulged in the sleeves of his short-sleeved button-up and his thighs filled out his slacks nicely.

Trailing your eyes back up to his handsome face, you noted that Steve’s beard was well-groomed and his watch looked expensive despite its simplicity. But he managed to look much more down-to-earth with his navy blue cap and sunglasses than most of the overly shiny men in Hollywood.

It almost made you smile how you could immediately spot so many differences between Steve and Bucky, but, at the same time, so many similarities, too.

Although they were both actors, their career trajectories had gone in completely different directions. While Steve had become an action star, Bucky had made a name for himself in indie movies and prestige dramas. Also in his mid-30s, Bucky had a few major awards under his belt, and he was often flying around the world to promote his movies at film festivals like Cannes.

But, like Steve, he’d opted for a more down-to-earth look for the Walk of Fame ceremony, choosing a patterned button-up tucked into simple slacks. He looked a bit more polished, in your opinion, and just as handsome as his best friend. Though he didn’t have the same broad build as Steve, he still looked strong and fit—and his ass filled out his slacks very nicely, which you’d told him before the two of you had left your hotel suite that morning.

“It’s a shame it took something like this to finally get you both out here to LA at the same time,” Steve said, getting your attention.

He shifted closer to your side opposite Bucky, making you feel almost caged in between their two broad chests. To your surprise, though, you didn’t mind. You felt more comfortable between them, and you wondered what it would feel like to be pressed between their broad bodies without any clothes in the way…

“I’ve been dying to meet your girl,” Steve went on, his voice dropping low so only you and your boyfriend could hear. His fingers skimmed up the back of your arm and across the bare skin of your shoulders, making you tremble lightly. Steve’s eyes danced across your face and he smirked as he said, “And I can’t wait to get to know you intimately later tonight, sweetheart.”

You visibly shuddered at Steve’s suggestive words, your mind jumping immediately to the plans the three of you had for that evening. They entailed the hotel suite Bucky had booked for the evening, and the three of you alone together, completely naked. Touching, kissing, and more.

The plans were a result of conversations you’d had with your boyfriend. Bucky had told you early on in your relationship that he had a fantasy about sharing his girl with his best friend, and you’d liked the idea far more than you’d expected. However, it had been difficult to make happen, given his and Steve’s busy movie star schedules. So, despite it being the same day you were meeting Steve, that night might be the only time in a long time that it could happen.

But something about the energy between the three of you in that warm tent made you think that even if the plan wasn’t already for you, Bucky and Steve to end up in bed together that night, it would’ve happened anyway. You couldn’t put your finger on why you thought so, but it had quite a bit to do with the hungry looks they were shooting your way—and exchanging with each other.

“Don’t get her all riled up yet, Stevie,” Bucky chided his best friend lightly, but when he cut his eyes to you behind his sunglasses, you could see a mischievous glimmer in their depths. “You keep whispering in her ear like that, and she’s gonna end up leaving a mess on her chair.”

Biting back a gasp, you squirmed against Bucky’s side, your embarrassment at his comment fanning the flames of your arousal. Your boyfriend chuckled at your reaction and wrapped his arm around your back, his fingers digging into your hip to hold you still, though that only made you want to writhe against him some more.

Steve’s eyebrows winged upward at Bucky’s comment, and you could tell from the slight shifting of his head that he was looking back and forth between your faces, a small smirk on his lips. “Is that so?” he asked, the slight edge of a challenge in his tone.

Bucky knew your body well—he knew what turned you on and just how wet he could make you with his words and voice alone. You’d long since learned that your boyfriend got a great deal of enjoyment out of teasing you and working you up until you were begging for him. He loved seeing just how wet and sloppy he could make you, pushing you both until you were ravenous for each other.

So it didn’t surprise you that Bucky shot his best friend a cocky grin and drawled, “Oh Stevie, you’d be surprised at just how messy my girl can get.”

Heat flushed fast and fierce through your body and you whipped your head around to look at your boyfriend. It was on the tip of your tongue to demand he and Steve take you back to your hotel, but at that moment, the event organizers began telling everyone to take their seats.

You were frustrated and thankful for the interruption as you took your seat between Bucky and Steve. Although the ceremony beginning meant there was no way you could convince Bucky to leave early, at least it meant your boyfriend and his best friend couldn’t continue to torture you.

At least, that’s what you naively believed. Until not one, but two hands slipped onto your bare thighs.

“You don’t mind, do ya, Buck?” Steve asked cheerfully across you, his thumb stroking over your skin in a way that nearly had you whimpering. He wore a shameless grin as he sat forward, looking at your boyfriend while touching you.

Your thoughts had scattered, and it didn’t even occur to you how inappropriate it was for Steve to put his hand on your thigh right in front of your boyfriend. In the deepest reaches of your heart, it just felt right for both Bucky and Steve to have their hands on you. And instead of being surprised by Steve’s boldness, you just felt desperate for one of them to move their hand higher, to stroke their fingers over the spot where you needed them most.

“Not at all, Stevie,” Bucky replied easily, his tone almost nonchalant as he dragged his gaze up from Steve’s hand to his best friend’s face. “You go right ahead,” he said, shifting in his chair, moving closer to you as he began stroking his thumb against your other leg, matching Steve’s rhythm so perfectly, it was maddening.

If you didn’t know Bucky so well, you wouldn’t have been able to detect the undercurrent of desire in his tone, or the way he was shifting in his seat to hide the slight bulge in the front of his slacks. Your whole body clenched tight with the reminder that you weren’t the only one excited by the knowledge that you would be bringing Steve into your bed that evening.

Bucky clearly got off on seeing his best friend’s hand on your thigh and you relaxed a little. Your boyfriend’s desire calmed the anxiety you didn’t know you had—anxiety that you were the only one excited for more—leaving only arousal simmering deliciously in your belly.

As if somehow sensing your thoughts, Bucky leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“How’s it feel, baby?” Bucky purred, his voice as warm as the summer sun shining on the crowded tent. “Having my best friend’s hand on your thigh, his fingers so close to your sweet, needy cunt?”

Bucky’s fingers slid slowly up your thigh, curling beneath the hem of your dress, teasing closer to the heat nestled between your thighs. He was so close to touching you where you needed him most, that you had to bite back a whimper before even beginning to think about answering.

Your boyfriend’s fingers dug into your soft flesh, urging you to respond, but all you could manage was one word.

“Bucky.” His name was the softest whine lilting from your lips, carried on the gentle California breeze. Your fingers were clinging to the edges of your seat and you squirmed restlessly, already feeling wetness gathering between your legs and soaking into the thin fabric of your panties.

“Hush, sweetheart,” came Steve’s voice, rich and deep in your other ear. “You keep squirming and whining like that, and you might draw attention to yourself.” His fingers slipped beneath your dress, slotting in between Bucky’s as both men gripped your thighs, groping you unabashedly despite the crowd that surrounded the three of you. “And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Bucky’s chuckle ghosted past the sensitive skin of your neck and your shoulders trembled with the effort it took to stop yourself from writhing on your chair. Pressing your lips together, you bit back the desperate mewl that threatened to spill from your lips, heeding Steve’s warning and suppressing the urge to beg them to touch you, crowd be damned.

Steve was right, after all. You were in a crowded tent, waiting for the Walk of Fame ceremony to begin, surrounded by your boyfriend’s friends and colleagues—and there were cameras everywhere. You may have felt surrounded well enough by the broad shoulders of your boyfriend and his best friend sitting on either side of you, but it was a false sense of privacy.

You knew you needed to sit up straight and smile blandly, and pretend like Bucky and Steve’s hands weren’t slowly inching closer to the juncture of your thighs. You needed to play the part of Bucky’s devoted girlfriend, and normally it wouldn’t be too difficult. Your boyfriend didn’t usually play this game in public, since he knew you were one photograph away from winding up on the home page of TMZ with a headline calling you Bucky Barnes’ whore or something equally degrading.

But there was something about Steve being there that was making your boyfriend act a little reckless. And, despite Steve being the one to warn you about the situation you were in, you knew he was the foolhardy one. You could feel his energy urging Bucky on, and your boyfriend seemed all too happy to match his best friend’s energy.

“Didn’t you know, Stevie,” Bucky began, his voice quiet but easygoing, as if he was talking to his best friend about something as banal as the weather or their new movies. “My girl’s a needy little slut, and she can’t help acting like it.”

Your teeth sank into your lower lip a mere second before the tips of Bucky’s fingers brushed so, so gently against the soaking wet fabric of your panties. A strangled moan caught in your throat and you tried to squirm in your seat, but Bucky and Steve’s hands clamped down hard on your thighs, holding you still.

“Just look at the way she’s spreading her legs for us,” Bucky went on, a new warmth in his tone, like he was wholly enjoying the way you were getting worked up. “She doesn’t even know she’s doing it.” Bucky’s face tilted toward you, and you could feel his gaze like a warm caress against your cheek as he asked, in a patronizingly sweet voice, “Do you, baby?”

Despite the chatter of the crowd around you, the sharp breath you inhaled at Bucky’s question was loud in your ears. You dragged your gaze away from your boyfriend’s face and looked down to see your thighs had spread open on your chair, much wider than was appropriate for the public ceremony, without you even noticing.

Your first instinct was to snap your legs closed, and somehow, both men seemed to anticipate it. Bucky and Steve moved simultaneously, almost as if they’d planned it, shoving their hands under your dress to be trapped between your plush thighs. Their fingertips were so close to your pulsing heat, but not quite touching it.

Your legs clenched tight together around their warm hands, trying to force them to touch you, but it was no use. They were trapped, and so were you, unable to spread your legs and beg them for more while you were sitting in the crowded tent on Hollywood Boulevard.

If Bucky and Steve minded that their fingers were tangled together between your thighs, they didn’t show it. Both men were grinning at each other, their bodies bracketing either side of yours, heads ducked together as if the three of you were simply having a private conversation.

But that’s not what was happening. Your body was a riot of sensation, of desperate, burning need. Fisting your hands in your lap, you curled in on yourself and shuddered, biting your bottom lip hard against a moan of pleasure and frustration.

It felt so good to have their hands on you, but you wanted them to touch you for real. You wanted them to push your panties to the side and stroke your clit before plunging their fingers into your dripping hole. But they couldn’t. And more than that, you knew they wouldn’t. Not while the three of you were in public and surrounded by people.

Bucky’s hand settled over your curled fists, his strong fingers easing the tension from your hands until he could slip his palm into both of yours. “Sit up, baby, the ceremony’s finally starting,” Bucky murmured in your ear, not unkindly.

His other hand flexed gently on your thigh, making you wheeze and tremble as you straightened, but your boyfriend only chuckled under his breath when you shot him a little glare. He ducked close and pressed a kiss to your cheek, mollifying you for the moment.

Your fingers tangled with Bucky’s on your lap as you sat up and pushed your shoulders back, fixing a polite smile on your face. You did your best to ignore the fact that both your boyfriend and his best friend’s hands were tucked between your thighs beneath your dress, making a valiant effort to pretend as if nothing was amiss.

It helped that you had something to hold onto, your fingers twining idly with Bucky’s. You hadn’t realized you were fidgeting a bit too much until you felt another hand land gently on your forearm, and you followed it up to look at Steve. He gave you a small, reassuring smile, his hand squeezing your arm lightly, and you settled further.

While the emcee of the ceremony took the small stage and began to introduce the director being honored, you managed to relax. You focused on the speech being given, and worked to remain quiet, despite the still burning heat in your blood.

You thought, once the ceremony began, the boys would behave themselves, but you were wrong.

Bucky and Steve seemed to work in synchrony, taking turns whispering filthy things into your ear that refused to let you forget you had their hands trapped between your thighs, your body aching for them to touch you.

Sometimes they’d tease you with the predicament you found yourself in, and other times they’d make promises that they intended to fulfill once the three of you were alone.

They were equally merciless, their words getting dirtier and dirtier as the ceremony went on, and your core throbbed unrelentingly, the evidence of your drawn-out arousal dripping into your panties and smearing on the plastic seat of the chair.

It became increasingly apparent that Bucky’s playful warning would come true—you were going to leave a wet spot behind when you stood up. But no matter how you tried to rein in your desire, Bucky and Steve were determined to keep you on edge with their words and their touch alone. It was all you could do to try to portray the image of a respectful Hollywood girlfriend, and not the wanton slut all three of you knew you to be.

Finally, the ceremony wrapped up and all around you, people began to stand and chatter again as photographers hired for the event escorted some to have their pictures taken with the director being honored.

The reality that you’d have to stand up on legs that felt like butter melted in the summer sun hit you all at once, and you grabbed Bucky’s hand before he could stand up. You gave him a desperate, pleading look, unable to find the words to ask for help.

But your boyfriend must’ve felt the way your leg trembled beneath his other hand, because he seemed to understand your plight. He glanced around before removing his hand from under your dress, Steve following his lead and doing the same.

Both men had turned their bodies toward you, caging you in and protecting you from the eyes of the crowd and the paparazzi. Bucky wrapped his arm tightly around your waist while Steve braced your arm under his, and they both helped you to stand.

It took a moment, and you swayed between their broad bodies, their scents swirling around you and making you want to sink into both of them. But after a moment, you managed to get your legs to work and hold you up with minimal help from your boyfriend and his best friend.

Once you were steady, you watched the boys exchange a look and then, in tandem, they looked over your shoulder and down at the seat where you’d just been sitting. You, however, didn’t need to look to know what they’d see, and your cheeks flamed with red-hot embarrassment, even as your core throbbed in arousal.

Steve sucked in a sharp breath at the same time Bucky chuckled, and you knew—there was a wet spot on your chair. You tried to bury your face in Bucky’s chest, but he tutted at you quietly and gripped your chin to turn your face to Steve.

Your boyfriend’s best friend had waited until he had your attention, then he shot you a wicked grin before ducking down and wiping his fingers through the mess you’d left behind on the seat, cleaning up most of it. As he stood back up, he popped his fingers into his mouth.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire as you watched Steve lick your arousal from his fingers, his soft groans reaching your ears over the noise of the crowd.

“Mm, you taste just as sweet as I hoped,” Steve murmured, crowding into you with a delicious smirk curling his mouth. Leaning in, his beard brushed gently against your cheek, making you shudder. “You really are just as much of a slut as Bucky said, huh?”

You tried to bite back a whimper, but the soft sound of desperation slipped free from your lips. “Yes,” you mewled, meeting Steve’s gaze through both your sunglasses, feeling his hunger sear you to the bone while Bucky’s hands held you steady.

“Can’t wait to bury my mouth in your cunt later, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, nuzzling the side of your face lightly. You could smell yourself on his breath, and it made you tremble harder in Bucky’s arms. “Gonna make you scream for being such a good girl and putting up with me and Bucky’s teasing.”

Your eyes were wide behind your sunglasses, your breathing shallow, and you couldn’t stop shaking with desire. You felt like you might explode right there on Hollywood Boulevard, and Bucky seemed to sense that you’d been pushed to your limit.

“Alright, Stevie, that’s enough,” Bucky said as he tucked you in beneath his arm. His tone held an undercurrent of finality, and Steve backed off, nodding as he gave your elbow an apologetic squeeze.

Then Bucky’s fingers were gently nudging your chin to lift so he could look at your face and check on you. Even through his sunglasses, you could feel his gaze roving over your face and you smiled softly to let him know you were ok. Bucky pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.

“You were a very good girl, baby,” he praised in a soft rumble, swiping his thumb just beneath your bottom lip, cleaning away some of your lipgloss. “I’m so proud of you.” He brushed another kiss to your forehead and let your head fall against his shoulder, taking a moment amidst the chaos of the post-ceremony rush to hold you.

You snuggled into your boyfriend despite the warm summer heat in the tent, enjoying the comfort of his familiar scent and letting it relax you. You knew you still had a few hours before Bucky and Steve would take you back to the hotel suite your boyfriend had booked for the night, and you took the opportunity to let the desire in your body cool just a bit.

Too soon, a photographer was calling for Bucky and Steve and they left you to take photos with the director. You waited for them, long having gotten used to watching Bucky get his picture taken.

As you watched Bucky and Steve laugh together, throwing their arms around each other, you were struck again by how much at ease your boyfriend was with his best friend. Part of the reason he’d chosen to get a place in Brooklyn was that he said he always felt awkward at Hollywood events, and you’d squeezed his hand in comfort enough times to know that to be the truth.

But with Steve at his side, Bucky looked just as relaxed as if the three of you were hanging out alone, throwing his head back as his best friend made some kind of joke just for him.

It occurred to you that perhaps you should feel jealous. After all, you took great pride in being one of the few people who could make Bucky feel comfortable and relaxed. But instead you just felt happy—you were glad Bucky had someone else in his life who made him feel at ease.

When the pictures were finally done, Bucky cut through the crowd to wind an arm around your waist, tugging you against his body and dropping his mouth to yours for a quick kiss.

“Ready to get out of here, baby?” he murmured, a delicious smirk on his handsome face. You nodded eagerly as Steve slid in next to Bucky, joining the two of you and making a circle of three. You smiled at Steve, who gave you a devastating grin in return.

The hours after the ceremony went by in a blur. Despite your best efforts to calm yourself, burning need simmered low in your belly, ensuring your body never properly settled, even through the early dinner you shared with Bucky, Steve and some of their close Hollywood friends.

Your pulse seemed to beat in time with the watch on Steve’s wrist, your body instinctively counting down the seconds until your boyfriend and his best friend would take you back to the hotel and fulfill their promises of sharing you. You had to keep your thoughts on other things, lest you leave another wet spot on your seat, while you smiled and chatted through dinner.

The elevator in the hotel felt too cramped for the three of you, and you clung desperately to Bucky’s hand, your fingers twisted so tightly around his, you would’ve worried about cutting off his circulation if you could think of anything else but the throbbing heat between your thighs. Steve snagged your other hand, holding it tightly and giving it an encouraging squeeze that you felt in your core.

The door to the hotel suite had barely closed when Steve pounced on you, his hand wrapping around the front of your throat as he backed you up into Bucky’s chest, his lips descending on yours as he took possession of your mouth like you were his to devour. You let out a small squeak of surprise before surrendering to Steve’s plundering mouth, sinking into the need and desire of his tongue as it stroked against yours.

Bucky’s hands circled your upper arms, holding you pinned between the two men’s firm bodies while Steve ravaged your mouth. Unable to stop himself, Bucky dropped his mouth to your neck, kissing the fluttering spot over your thrumming pulse point and nuzzling your soft skin with his whiskered jaw until you were shivering with need.

Then Steve was dropping to his knees, right there in the entryway of the suite, muttering something about needing to taste your cunt straight from the source. If it wasn’t for Bucky holding you steady, your knees would’ve given out at the sight of the golden boy action hero staring at the juncture of your thighs with such determination, it sent a quiver of anticipation down your spine.

Steve moved quickly, pushing your dress up past your thighs and ripping your panties down your legs, tossing them away. He crawled closer, throwing one of your thighs over his broad shoulder before burying his face in your cunt, groaning loudly against your slick folds.

Bucky held you propped up against his chest, his hands holding your dress up so the both of you could stare down your body and watch Steve feast on you like a starving man. While his best friend ate you out, Bucky pressed kisses and little love bites into your neck, murmuring soft praises in your ear.

Your boyfriend told you what a good girl you were, behaving so well for him and his best friend while Steve’s tongue buried deep into your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit until you came with a scream. Your spine arched, and you twined a hand in Steve’s soft blond hair while your other clung to Bucky’s arm, holding onto both of them as you shattered apart on Steve’s tongue.

After that preamble in the suite’s entryway, it wasn’t long before you were bouncing on Steve’s cock, another orgasm quickly building in your core.

The boys had divested you of your remaining clothing and shed theirs in a flurry of hands skimming over naked skin and low, appreciative groans. You hadn’t been able to stop touching either of them, your fingers raking over hardened muscle and nails digging into golden skin. You felt drunk and gluttonous on the ability to finally touch them, really touch them, in the true privacy of the hotel suite.

As you fucked yourself on Steve’s perfect cock, your hands never seemed to stop moving, fingers digging into his pecs, his abs, trailing up the sides of his ribs until he was laughing and moaning at the same time. His face was a little flushed, rosy pink spots in his cheeks, and his mouth flattened into a determined line. Steve was just as beautiful undone beneath you as he’d been when you’d first seen him in person on Hollywood Boulevard.

“Fuck—fuck, sweetheart, your cunt’s squeezing me so fucking tight,” Steve huffed, his hips working up between your thighs, impaling you on his thick cock. “Fuck, ‘m gonna blow in your pretty pussy in no time if you keep…”

He trailed off as the tip of his dick hit a spot inside you that made your whole pussy clench down on his hard, heavy length. Steve threw his head back with a growly groan, his fingers digging so hard into your soft hips, you suspected he’d leave bruises behind.

Not that you minded in the least.

It felt too good, Steve’s thick, hard length pounding into you from below, bouncing you on his cock so your tits heaved and you wanted to pinch your nipples, but you were too eager to keep touching your boyfriend’s best friend to tear your hands away.

Your gaze trailed away from Steve, finding Bucky sitting back on his knees beside you and his best friend, a satisfied smirk on his perfect mouth while he pumped his own cock lazily in his fist. His glimmering blue eyes were focused on the place where you were impaled on Steve’s cock, but when you whined desperately, his gaze flicked up to meet yours.

“Ya having fun, baby?” Bucky asked, humor in his tone as he ignored the pleading look in your eyes. A drop of precum beaded at the tip of his dick and your mouth watered with the desire to flick your tongue over his cock head and lap it up. But then you remembered he’d asked you a question.

“Yes, yes, but I need more,” you rasped, your voice husky with arousal, stuttering out of you as Steve kept pounding you from below. You arched your spine, sticking out your tits and putting them on display for the men while your fingers dug into Steve’s abs, hoping your boyfriend would take the hint,

“Greedy girl,” Bucky said, chuckling good-naturedly as he shifted closer on his knees. You angled your body toward him and he took one of your breasts in his free hand, kneading it with dextrous fingers while his mouth descended on the other. He sucked your nipple into his mouth and laved his tongue over it, still stroking his cock.

If Steve cared that Bucky’s cock was close to leaking all over his arm and ribs, he didn’t say. Instead, the blond man’s eyes glittered with desire as he watched your boyfriend play with your tits.

“Christ, Buck, you get to fuck this pussy every day?” Steve huffed, awe and a little bit of jealousy in his ragged voice.

Bucky’s low laugh ghosted over your dewy skin. He gave your nipple one last affectionate suckle before pulling his mouth away, his other hand trailing down your body and between your thighs. Your boyfriend teased a fingertip around your clit, making your body jerk, a whine slipping from your lips that only made him laugh again.

“Stevie,” Bucky began, light admonishment in his tone. He rubbed your clit, making you wail in pleasure as your body clenched down hard around Steve’s cock, pulling a loud grunt from the man between your thighs. “I fuck this pussy multiple times a day. You know how she feels now, wouldn’t you fuck her every chance you got?”

“Yes—fucking christ, yes,” Steve groaned, his chest heaving, hips rising up from the bed as he fucked you harder, chasing his release.

His wild blue eyes caught yours, Steve’s expression fixed into one of tenacity that made your pussy flutter.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he rasped, his fingers digging deeper into your hips, nearing the point of pain as he pulled you down onto his stiff length. “Come on my cock—let me feel you before I blow my load in your cunt, please.”

You didn’t know if it was Steve’s ‘please’ or his cock buried deep in your pussy or Bucky’s fingers on your clit—though you suspected it was a combination of all three—but the pleasure coiling tight in your core snapped. Electric currents of ecstasy flashed through your body as you came. Tossing your head back, you screamed your release to the heavens, your hips working of their own accord, grinding your pulsing cunt mercilessly on Steve’s cock.

Your boyfriend’s best friend was right behind you, coming with a rough shout, the tendons of his neck straining with his head thrown back on the bed. His fingers dug so deep into your plush hips, you could’ve sworn they reached down to the bone as he pulled you flush against his abdomen.

He was so deep inside you that you could feel his cock twitch and the pulsing warmth of his come as it flooded your pussy. The sensation dragged another fluttering wave from your cunt, and you writhed against Steve, both of you eking out as much pleasure from each other as possible.

Bucky’s fingers didn’t relent on your clit until you whined at the overstimulation, your upper body swaying almost drunkenly. Your head felt like it was filled with puffy clouds of pleasure as you slowly came down from the peak of your release, enjoying the way your body buzzed and your pussy fluttered around Steve’s softening cock.

“You did so good, baby,” Bucky murmured into your cheek before kissing your temple tenderly.

A smile flickered at the corners of your lips as your eyes slid closed and you slumped against your boyfriend’s broad chest. You pressed your face into his sternum, inhaling the comforting, familiar scent of his cologne lingering on his skin.

For a long moment, the three of you stayed like that. Bucky’s hand trailed comfortingly up and down your spine, his lips pressing sweet kisses to your face, while Steve’s big hands massaged your hips to ease some of the sting from his brutal grip. You were still going to bruise, but you didn’t mind having his marks on you.

Unsurprisingly, their hands touching you, no matter how gentle and soft they were being, had an effect on you, and it wasn’t long before desire rekindled in your core. Your hips squirmed restlessly, feeling Steve’s cock slip from your pussy, his release dripping out of you and making a mess of both your bodies.

“Bucky,” you whispered, fingers trailing down his chest and taking his hard length in your hand. Your boyfriend’s cock jumped excitedly against your palm, the tip leaking precum that you desperately wanted to taste. Siting up, you looked up at your boyfriend from under your lashes, the corner of your mouth curling in a smirk. “D’you want my mouth or my pussy?”

A pained sounding groan came from Steve, drawing both your and Bucky’s attention. The blond man had thrown an arm over his eyes, looking exhausted, even with the smile playing around the edges of his mouth.

“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” Steve muttered, but you could feel his cock twitching beneath your messy cunt, trying to harden again already.

Bucky laughed huskily, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck before he pulled you to him for a consuming kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth and you wondered distantly if he could taste Steve’s kiss on your lips, but then he groaned into you and all thoughts scattered from your mind.

When your boyfriend finally pulled away, you were breathless with anticipation, your wetness dripping from your pussy to coat Steve’s already slick cock.

“You’re gonna clean up the mess you left all over Stevie’s cock, baby,” Bucky rumbled, his hand cupped beneath your chin, fingers digging lightly into your cheeks. “While I pump your pretty pussy full of another load of come. D’you want that?”

You smiled and nodded eagerly, not even needing to think about it. “Yes, please!”

Both men chuckled at your enthusiastic response as they began shifting on the bed, rearranging themselves to make Bucky’s words come true.

Steve dragged his half-hard cock from between your messy folds, making you whimper at the loss of him as the cold hotel air rushed in against your throbbing core. The blond man smirked a little smugly, ducking forward and capturing your lips in an apologetic kiss.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rumbled when he pulled away, laughter in his tone. “You’ll have my cock again before tonight’s over.” He dropped one, last smacking kiss to your lips before shifting up the bed. He flopped down in the mound of pillows with a contented sigh and spread his thick, golden thighs for you to crawl between.

You bent forward onto your hands and knees and slid up the bed to settle between Steve’s legs, your fingers playing with the golden hair covering the taut muscles of his thighs as you pressed your face to his hip, leaving a lingering kiss against his skin.

You felt Bucky moving into position behind you, and you smiled against Steve’s abdomen when your boyfriend’s hands grabbed your hips. A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine as you kissed closer to Steve’s cock.

Bucky adjusted your body until your ass lined up with his lap. His cock pressed between your closed thighs, sliding through the slickness of your and his best friend’s releases to coat his hard length, and you moaned into the thick thatch of hair at the base of Steve’s cock.

Turning your head to the side, you lowered your shoulders so your boyfriend could see you nuzzling his best friend’s hardening dick, which was still soaking wet with a mixture of his come and yours. The scent of your release mixing with Steve’s while Bucky teased you from behind was a heady thing and your hips swayed from side to side, your pussy aching desperately to be filled again.

“Ready for me, baby?” Bucky teased, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. He dragged the head of his cock through your dripping slit, making you whine and try to push back onto his stiff length.

Cutting your eyes over your shoulder, you gave your boyfriend a pleading look. “Please, Bucky, just fuck me,” you mewled, arching your back and spreading your thighs as much as you could, presenting your pussy to your boyfriend the way you knew he liked.

You could tell by the way Bucky’s blue eyes darkened and dropped to the cleft of your ass that he liked what he saw. His big hands groped your thighs, then your ass, spreading your cheeks wide and grinning as he ran his thumbs along the seam of your pussy, pulling you open for him.

“Well, since you begged so pretty…” He trailed off as he lined himself up with your hole, and then he was shoving the full length of his cock deep in your cunt.

You cried out in pleasure as Bucky speared into your sensitive hole, your face pressing against Steve’s cock, which jumped in response as if begging for your attention.

Looking up Steve’s muscular form, you found him propped up on the pillows at the head of the bed, one arm angled behind his head. His bicep bulged in a way that made your mouth water, wanting to trace the veins of his arm. Instead, you put your tongue to use on his cock, dragging the flat of it up the entire length and humming a satisfied sound as the taste of your combined releases filled your mouth.

“Christ, sweetheart,” Steve groaned, his hips jerking up off the bed, pushing his hardening length against your kiss-swollen lips as if begging for more.

You acquiesced to his body’s wordless plea, taking the tip of him into your mouth and sucking softly, swirling your tongue around the head, wringing a grunt from Steve. His hand fell gently to the crown of your head, petting you affectionately as you worked his cock deep into your mouth, your lips forming a seal as you sucked him to full hardness.

“Oh f-fuck,” Steve moaned, a slight tremor working through his thick thighs on either side of your body. His fingers flexed against your head, but he didn’t push you away or pull you closer. “Jesus, Buck, you didn’t mention your girl’s mouth felt like fucking heaven,” he ground out through a clenched jaw, his eyes flicking to your boyfriend over your shoulder.

Bucky chuckled, fucking you in slow, lazy strokes, seemingly content to watch you suck off his best friend.

You knew exactly what he was doing, taking his time to give Steve the chance to recover so the two of them could take you at the same time. When you and Bucky had first discussed details about inviting Steve to join you for the night, you’d admitted that you’d fantasized about being spit-roasted, and you knew your wonderful boyfriend was making sure it happened before he took his own pleasure.

Bucky groped your ass tenderly, bringing you back to the moment as he laughed at Steve’s comment.

“Some things you just gotta figure out for yourself, Stevie,” came your boyfriend’s snarky reply, but his voice was low and gruff.

You could hear just how much your boyfriend was affected and you smirked around Steve’s cock, refocusing on your task so the two of them could fuck you properly and Bucky could come.

“Just wait till you feel her ass,” Bucky went on, surprising you by rubbing his thumb teasingly over your tight rosebud. “My girl’s tightest hole will have ya seeing stars.”

You hummed a pleased sound at Bucky’s praise, wringing a grunt from Steve as the vibrations travelled down his cock, and pushed your ass back against the tip of your boyfriend’s thumb. He chuckled, pressing past the ring of muscle in your ass and making your entire body melt when all three of your holes were filled.

Your throat relaxed enough that Steve’s cock slid into it, and you swallowed around him, making his hips stutter up off the bed again at the squeeze of your muscles. It seemed to take him effort to settle back onto the mattress, his hand flexing furiously against your head.

“F-fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, while you bobbed up and down on his dick. Spit and drool coated the length of him, slipping past your lips and down your chin, making a new mess on his cock. “You’re gonna suck out my fucking soul if ya keep doing that.”

You huffed a laugh before taking Steve to the root and looking up at him from under your lashes. His blue eyes were glittering with desire, but there was something else in his gaze, too. Something deeper that you couldn’t quite name, but made your heart pound a little bit harder.

Looking away from his searing gaze, you refocused on sucking Steve’s cock and reveling in the feeling of Bucky’s dick in your pussy while his thumb stayed buried in your ass.

The three of you lapsed into silence, save for the grunts and groans from Steve, and the rumbling growls from Bucky as he kept his self-control on a tightly held leash and fucked you in firm, steady strokes. Your own sounds were muffled by Steve’s cock, but the soft, wet noises added to the small cacophony of pleasure filling your ears.

Finally, when Steve’s cock was twitching and so slick with your spit that he was sliding easily into your throat, he used his hand on your head to gently pull you off him. When you glanced up at him, though, he wasn’t looking at you. Craning your head to look over your shoulder, you saw Bucky give his best friend a nod and you realized he must’ve shared your fantasy with Steve.

The realization didn’t bother you, and you paused. It should bother you that your boyfriend shared something so intimate about you with his best friend, shouldn’t it? But you found you didn’t mind, because you liked Steve. Not only did you like him, you trusted him.

If you’d been able to think about it more, you might’ve realized that what you were beginning to feel for Steve was deeper than like and trust, but your boyfriend’s best friend was moving, dragging your attention back to the moment and the heat building steadily in your core.

Steve ducked forward to capture your lips in a quick kiss, tasting himself on your lips before he shifted up onto his knees, moving closer to you to line up the tip of his cock with your mouth. With one fist wrapped around the base of his length, Steve ran the tip along your pouting lower lip, leaving a trail of precum that you eagerly licked up.

“Eager little cum slut, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Steve rumbled with a low chuckle. He barely gave you time to grin and nod before he was pushing his cock between your lips like he was too impatient to wait for your answer when your hot mouth was so close to his hard length. “That’s it, take my cock—I’ll fill your slutty tummy with all the come in my balls.”

When he was buried in your throat, you moaned as loudly as you could manage, a shiver racing down your spine as you basked in the feeling of being filled from both ends. Bucky’s thick, hard cock was buried to the hilt in your pussy, his thumb still filling your ass, and Steve’s dick was pressed so deep in your throat, you could only breathe through your nose.

“Careful, Stevie,” Bucky warned, but there was more warmth than menace in his tone. “If you keep spoiling my girl, you might have to join us more often.” He pulled his hips back, until only the tip of his cock remained inside you, before snapping them forward more forcefully against your ass. The sharp smacking sound of flesh meeting flesh met your ears and you moaned again.

“Jesus, Buck,” Steve groaned, his cock twitching in your throat as he grabbed the sides of your head and began to pump shallowly into your mouth. “I might finally move back to Brooklyn if you promise I can fuck your girl with you on the regular.” He bit back a moan, gritting his teeth as he fucked your mouth faster, matching Bucky’s pace. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of burying my dick in one of your girl’s tight holes.”

You purred in pleasure at Steve’s praise, the corners of your mouth curling into a faint smile as he spread your lips to bury his cock in your throat. Your boyfriend’s best friend grunted in pleasure and he shoved harder into your mouth, pushing your nose against his abdomen until you were fully pinned between the two men and impaled on their cocks.

It was heaven, your mind floating with ecstasy as you gave yourself over to sensation. The slick drag of Bucky’s cock in your cunt, fucking Steve’s come deeper into you as he pounded your hole while he used his thumb in your ass to pull you back onto his hard length. Steve’s cock was thick and throbbing and delicious on your tongue, your lips closing around him to suck on his hardness as much as you could.

“Shoulda known the only way to get you back to Brooklyn was luring you with my girl’s pussy,” Bucky grunted, laughter in his voice. His hips slapped roughly against your ass, his free hand kneading your soft flesh and making you moan around Steve’s cock. “You can stay with us while you look for a place,” he offered, his tone snarky despite his obvious arousal.

Pleasure swirled through your body, filling your head with fog, and it took you a long moment to understand Bucky’s words. If it had been anyone else, you might’ve been annoyed at Bucky for offering to let someone stay with you both without asking you first, but because it was Steve, you didn’t mind. In fact, the idea of Steve staying at the brownstone you and Bucky called home sounded perfect—not the least of which because it meant he and your boyfriend could fuck you whenever they wanted.

Your response to your boyfriend’s offer was delayed by the consuming pleasure they were giving you. So you moaned your delight belatedly at what the men were discussing, making them both chuckle.

Steve stroked his thumb over your hollowed cheek, tilting your face up so he could look into your eyes while he kept fucking your throat.

“You like the sound of that, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone patronizingly sweet. “Are you so much of a needy slut that you need two cocks to keep your cunt satisfied?”

Before you had a chance to nod or offer some other answer in the affirmative, Bucky huffed a laugh and spanked your ass lightly, the sound cracking through the hotel suite’s bedroom.

“Oh, she’s definitely that much of a slut,” he rumbled, his tone thick with love and affection, making you purr again. “Aren’t you, baby?”

Obediently, you nodded your head, bobbing your mouth on Steve’s cock in the process and pulling a grunt from him even as both men laughed at your response. The boys fell silent again as they focused on fucking you, but your boyfriend didn’t seem able to stay quiet for long.

“If you do stay with us, watch out, Stevie—my girl loves sucking cock first thing in the morning.”

Your heart raced with excitement at the implication of Bucky’s words. It was one thing to be fucked by your boyfriend and his best friend in a random hotel room across the country from your home. It was another thing entirely for your boyfriend to let you wake up his best friend with a blow job.

You couldn’t help but wonder if, in this hypothetical situation, Bucky was watching you suck Steve’s cock first thing in the morning. And, if so, was he in bed with his best friend… You began to suspect you and your boyfriend had a few things to talk about once he and his best friend were done fucking you.

“You kidding me, Buck?” Steve rasped, pulling your attention back to the present. “Waking up and immediately draining my balls in your girl’s perfect mouth sounds like a fucking dream.”

He groaned, fucking your mouth harder, his thumbs swiping away the few tears that were falling onto your cheeks. Your heart beat harder, loving the way Steve was with you, so rough and gentle at the same time. So much like how Bucky treated you.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’d always have the taste of my cock on your tongue if I had anything to say about it,” Steve cooed down at you, making you hum happily as pleasure swirled through you. Your lips curled, trying to smile as much as you could manage as you stared up at Steve.

“Fucking hell, Stevie,” Bucky growled, sounding angry at his best friend’s words, but you could feel the way his cock twitched inside you.

Steve, though, wasn’t afforded the knowledge of Bucky’s body’s reaction to the thought of your mouth always tasting like his best friend’s come and he laughed abashedly.

“Sorry, Buck, ‘m sure you don’t wanna be thinking about my cock while you’re kissing your girl.”

Your boyfriend was uncharacteristically silent for a long beat, and both men slowed their movements. Steve’s hips stuttered to a stop with your face pressed to his abdomen so you couldn’t look up and see what was happening.

The men must’ve been exchanging a wordless look because you could feel the energy in the room changing. It was uncertain at first, then tentative, then all-consuming.

“Fuck,” Steve wheezed, his chest heaving with deep breaths as he grabbed your head and held you still so he could pound into your mouth.

“Fuck ‘er good, Stevie,” Bucky rumbled, his command drenched in desire. “Fill her mouth with your come, and coat her tongue in it.”

Behind you, your boyfriend’s thrusts turned hard and rough, his thumb sliding free from your ass so he could grab your hips hard. His fingers dug into your plush curves hard enough, you knew he was going to give you a second set of bruises to match the ones Steve had left. Something about that felt perfectly right.

As for you, you were pinned so firmly between the two men, all you could do was suck Steve’s cock and moan at the ravenous pleasure burning through your body.

It wasn’t long before Steve’s length twitched against your tongue and he pulled back until only the tip of his cock was in your mouth. He groaned loudly a second before he erupted in your mouth, filling it with rope after rope of his come, just like Bucky had told him to.

It covered your tongue and slid down your throat, and you worked to swallow all of it while Steve furiously jacked off the rest of his stiff length, making sure he drained every drop from his balls.

As Steve came, Bucky’s hand curved around your hip and slipped between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it hard just the way he knew you liked. In just a few seconds, Bucky had you shattering apart beneath him, your body trembling as you moaned around Steve’s softening cock, the vibrations making one last rope fall onto your tongue.

Your boyfriend must’ve been holding out for your release, because at the first clench of your cunt around his hard length, he was groaning. Bucky’s cock throbbed in your pussy and he buried himself to the root, filling you up with even more come and painting your cunt with his spend.

The three of you writhed together as you each drew out each other’s orgasms. Your mouth popped off the end of Steve’s cock to suckle on his balls, making him shudder and let out the most tortured groan that was music to your ears. Bucky kept fucking you through the aftershocks of your release, ensuring every drop of his come was buried deep in your cunt.

Finally, when all three of you were exhausted and sated, you collapsed together on the soft hotel mattress. Bucky’s arm wrapped around your front and he hauled you up the bed to settle on your back against the pillows between him and Steve. Your legs were all tangled together and you couldn’t help the blissed out, happy smile that spread across your face as you looked from one man to the other.

“That was fucking amazing, sweetheart,” Steve murmured against your cheek before pressing a sweet kiss to your sweat-slick skin.

Bucky chuckled but nodded his agreement, dropping a kiss to your shoulder. “You were such a good girl, baby, you took both of us so well.” His fingers were dancing over your ribs, making you giggle and melt beneath their affectionate kisses and warm praise.

But something was niggling at you, a reminder of the moment Bucky and Steve had shared while they’d been buried inside you. The words Bucky had growled to his best friend flitted through your mind and you cut your eyes to your boyfriend, before shifting your gaze to his best friend, wondering if either of them were going to bring them up.

The energy in the room wasn’t awkward, but you could tell by the way they weren’t looking at each other, and were only paying attention to you that neither of them was going to revisit what was said between them in the heat of the moment. Rolling your eyes to yourself and huffing a silent sigh, you reached up and grabbed Steve by the back of the neck, pulling him to you for a messy kiss.

He groaned when he tasted himself on your tongue and you could feel the corner of his mouth curl in a self-satisfied smile. But before the kiss could last too long, and too much of Steve’s taste could be washed from your tongue, you pulled away.

Turning to Bucky, you looked your boyfriend deep in the eye, a question in the slight raise of your brow. It took him a moment to understand what you were doing, but when he did, his gaze darkened with desire and his eyes dropped to your mouth.

Then Bucky was kissing you—no, devouring you. His tongue plunged into your mouth and stroked against yours like he was licking it clean. A deep, guttural groan shuddered through your boyfriend when he tasted his best friend’s come on your tongue, and you could feel his cock twitch against your hip.

Bucky kissed you until Steve’s taste was gone, and then he kissed you some more, his mouth worshipping yours in a way that stole your breath from your lungs. When he pulled away, he gave you a long, loving look, before his eyes lifted to his best friend.

The men stared at each other for a long moment. You waited quietly between them with bated breath, wondering what would happen next…

For years to come, Bucky and Steve would fight good-naturedly over who leaned in first—who took that leap forward to turn their friendship into something more. Both of them would boast that they were the brave one.

And every time they had their little fight, you’d get to tell Bucky and Steve that they both leaned forward at exactly the same second. That was the truth, and you knew because you’d been there to witness their first kiss.

Bucky and Steve’s mouths came together in a primal clashing of teeth and tongues, their lips consuming each other as they both groaned low in their chests. Years and years of friendship, and the something more that had been simmering beneath it, came to the surface, both men pouring their feelings into their kiss.

All you could do was watch, part of you shocked and part of you entirely unsurprised.

It was a wondrous thing to behold, your boyfriend kissing his oldest friend with just as much fervor as he kissed you after being gone on a long film shoot. They were both so gluttonous for each other, and you could feel the depth of their love changing as the kiss slowed into something tender.

You’d have been lying if you’d said the sight of Bucky and Steve kissing hadn’t rekindled the heat in your body that had been sated just moments before. But it helped that you could feel both of their cocks twitching and hardening against your hips while their hands buried in each other’s hair.

Since you didn’t want to ruin the moment for either of them, but you also couldn’t remain still, not with your pussy pulsing desperately for attention, you slipped your hand between your legs. You trailed your fingers through the mess of wetness dripping from your cunt, pushing both men’s come back into your hole as you watched your boyfriend make out with his best friend in front of you.

You must’ve made a sound—or your thoroughly sopping wet pussy did—because Bucky and Steve finally pulled away from each other. Your boyfriend’s gaze dropped immediately to where you were fingering yourself, chuckling a low, filthy laugh.

“Looks like our girl doesn’t appreciate being left out, Stevie,” Bucky commented, using his grip on Steve’s hair to tilt his best friend’s head down to look at your cunt.

You spread your thighs, showing the men how you were using your fingers to push their combined releases back into your cunt, letting out a wanton moan as you watched their eyes darken further with desire.

“Mm,” Steve rumbled in agreement, flicking his gaze back up to Bucky’s. “Think we should do something about that, Buck?” he asked, humor in his tone. “After all, our girl’s been so good for us today.”

You whined a little at that, agreeing without words as you shoved a second finger into your well-used cunt, trying to sate some of the desire that was burning through your body with a renewed hunger.

“That she has,” Bucky agreed, still talking to Steve like you weren’t even there. Something about that—about both of them ganging up on you, made you hotter, wetter, and your thighs fell open even further.

Before you could take a breath deep enough to let out another whine, Bucky was rolling over and grabbing some lube from the bedside table and tossing it to Steve. Then the boys were hauling you up from the bed and arranging you on your knees between them, your back to Steve’s chest.

He was firm and steady behind you, his heart beating against your spine with just as much excitement as you felt in your belly.

You could feel Steve messing around with the lube, but your attention was solely on Bucky, who was pumping his thick cock in his fist. You could still see the sheen of your release on his thick length, but you didn’t have time to appreciate that when he was pulling you onto his lap. Bucky impaled your pussy on his cock, shifting your weight to lay against his chest so Steve could spread your ass.

Steve’s cock pressed against your tight rosebud and both men used their hands to soothe your body and urge you to relax for them. Bucky cooed praises in your ear, telling you what a good girl you were for him and Steve. Your boyfriend caught your lips in a lazy kiss while Steve worked his cock into your ass, huffing and puffing the whole time.

“Fuck, I can feel you inside her, Buck,” Steve wheezed when he was fully seated inside you. His head dropped to your shoulder, pressing kisses along your back while the three of you got used to the feeling of being joined together. “She’s so fucking tight.”

You could practically hear the muscle in Steve’s jaw pop as he gritted his teeth. His cock twitched in your ass, making both you and Bucky moan. It felt so perfect, having them both inside you, filling you. You didn’t think you would ever get enough of having Bucky and Steve inside you at the same time, overwhelming you as they pressed you between their broad bodies.

“Mm, you’re making her tighter, Stevie,” Bucky murmured against your lips. Then he pulled back so he could look into your eye. “You doing ok, baby?” he asked, checking in with you. His eyes were filled with concern, but it wasn’t warranted.

“Sooo good,” you moaned, your voice drenched in pleasure and a dazed smile curling your lips, “feel sooo full.”

You swayed a little, and your hands searched for something to grab onto, finding Bucky’s hand with one and Steve’s with the other. Their fingers laced with yours, their other hands on either side of your hips, holding you between them.

You couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect and right it felt to be with them, before your thoughts were scattering at the sensation of them shifting inside you. A broken moan fell from your lips.

“I don’t think she’s gonna last much longer, Stevie,” Bucky warned, his voice a low rumble, his hips beginning to rock and fuck you on his cock.

Steve huffed a laugh, rolling his hips in tandem with Bucky. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer, Buck,” he rasped. “Our girl’s ass is so fucking tight, I feel like I could blow any second.”

You whined at the comment, unable to form the words to protest that idea, and Bucky immediately understood your distress.

“Don’t worry, baby, we’d never get off without getting you off first,” he assured you, ducking forward for a quick kiss as your bodies writhed together.

At the same time, both Bucky and Steve’s hands slid down between your thighs. There was a moment of hesitation from both men, and you could practically feel them exchanging a look over your shoulder, but then their fingers slotted together, the tips finding your clit.

You didn’t know which of them was rubbing you or if they both were—and you didn’t care. You just felt the burst of pleasure bloom from between your thighs and spread in a warm wave through your body. Your head fell back on Steve’s shoulder as you rocked between their firm, muscular bodies, their cocks filling you up so much you felt like they were imprinting themselves on your soul.

Though it was difficult with how tired you were, you kept your eyes cracked open, staring at Bucky and Steve, a part of you wishing they’d kiss again—knowing they both wanted to. But instead, they kept exchanging heated glances, their gazes darting from you to each other.

Still, their hands curled together against your pussy as they fucked you and got you off together. You squeezed their hands in your own and they smiled, first at each other, then at you. You could feel something building between the three of you. Not just your pleasure, but something deeper, a bond that you knew was going to be the foundation of your new life together.

Spurred by Bucky and Steve’s cocks and their fingers on your clit, your release rolled over you like the crashing of a thunderstorm, shaking you to your core. The tightening of your body pushed both men over the edge at the same time, and they grunted and groaned their pleasure as the three of you rode out your releases together.

That time, when you collapsed to the bed, you were all finally fully sated.

Soft words and praises were exchanged as the three of you cleaned up in the bathroom, Bucky and Steve taking turns washing you in the shower before they scrubbed off themselves.

When you were towel dried and clad in one of Bucky’s t-shirts, Steve left the suit to grab his things from the room he’d also booked in the hotel. You’d grumbled at that, not wanting him to leave even for a moment, but Bucky distracted you with a kiss while Steve ducked out.

While Steve was gone, Bucky used the opportunity to wrap you up in his arms and ask if you were ok with everything that had happened.

“Bucky,” you murmured, rolling onto your back on the bed, pulling him with you so his head lay on your chest and your legs tangled together. “I’m more than ok—everything we did tonight feels right. Didn’t it?”

Bucky hummed in thought as you raked your nails through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp in the way you knew he liked. “Yeah, it did,” he admitted after a moment. You could feel his smile through the cotton of your shirt a moment before he lifted up, his mouth finding yours in a slow, sweet kiss.

When he moved back to lay on your chest, he squeezed you tight, murmuring his love for you into your sternum, right above your beating heart. You carded your fingers through his hair, trailing them over his bare shoulders since he’d only put on a pair of boxer briefs to sleep in.

By the time Steve returned, you and Bucky were half asleep, laying entwined in the bed that was more than big enough for the three of you. Still, Steve paused at the edge of the bed, wearing his own pair of boxer briefs, and looked at the two of you as if unsure whether he should join you.

“Room for one more?” Steve asked, and you could hear the hesitance in his voice.

A soft smile curved the corners of your mouth and you took a second to look at Steve. He was just as handsome in the dim light of the hotel suite as he’d been in the bright sunshine on Hollywood Boulevard, but you felt more than just excitement seeing him.

You may not have loved him—yet—but you knew you could love Steve just as much as you loved Bucky. And you suspected Bucky’s feelings for his best friend were well on their way there already.

Steve wasn’t just some Hollywood heartthrob to you anymore, or even just your boyfriend’s best friend. He was yours, and Bucky’s, just like you and Bucky were his.

Raising your arm to gesture Steve into bed, a giggle slipped from your lips when you realized you and Bucky had reached for him at the same time.

“There’s plenty of room for one more, Stevie,” Bucky rumbled, beckoning his best friend to get into bed.

“Yeah, Stevie, come cuddle,” you said, laughter making your voice lighter.

Steve shot you both one of his devastatingly charming smiles and then he was crawling into the bed and sliding beneath the covers. He curled into your side, laying his head beside yours on the pillow and the three of you finally settled down.

Before sleep pulled you under, you felt Steve and Bucky lace their fingers together against your hip, their hands holding onto each other as they both held onto you. With a happy smile on your face, you fell asleep, looking forward to starting the new day with Bucky and Steve.

There wasn’t just room for one more in the bed—there was room for one more in your life with Bucky, and you were so happy to have Steve join you both.

4K notes · View notes

hanniewho · 5 months ago

Text

⋆˚࿔ Mommies' Good Girl 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ Summary: A heated argument turning into rough sex when you accidentally called them mommy. Apparently, that made the situation even worst.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Notes: Actually, I was writing a tlou x Arcane series, but I have no idea what to write since I got ban on character ai for ideas so.. this is what I wrote instead. Also I'm working on my slasher jayce x cam girl reader and I wanna make it noncon but mid writing it I felt sick so I switch it to jayce wearing the ghostface attire while fucking you on stream yeyey:3

𐙚˙✧˖° Words: 5.8k

༘ ⋆｡ ˚ Warnings: Rough sex, Slapping, Pussy worshiping, Fingering, Cunninlingus, Choking, Degrading - Praising, Name calling, Dirty talk, Using dildo, Ass fucking, Multiple orgasm, Threesome, Mommy kink, Delaying orgasm.

⋆✦ Pairings: Vi and Caitlyn x Afab virgin reader

"You never listen to me!" Caitlyn's voice echoed through the room, her frustration palpable.

Vi's eyes flashed with anger. "What do you mean I never listen?" she shot back, her fists clenching at her sides.

Caitlyn's chest heaved as she tried to gather her thoughts. "It's like you're always in your own world, Vi. You don't care about what I have to say!"

Vi took a step closer, her own frustration rising. "That's not true," she said, her voice low and tight. "I care about you, but you're always pushing and pushing until I can't even breathe!"

You watched the exchange, feeling the tension thicken in the air. You knew they'd had their disagreements before, but this felt different—like the pressure in the room was building to a breaking point. You didn't want to interrupt, scared that you'll be the center of their anger.

Instead, you took a step back, hoping to give them space to cool down. But as you retreated, Caitlyn's gaze flickered to you, desperation and something else swirling in her eyes. Before you could react, she stalked towards you, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer.

"Is this what you want?" she growled, her breath hot on your neck. "For me to just take it?"

Vi's eyes narrowed, and you could see the fire in them, a challenge sparked. Without breaking eye contact with you, she stepped closer, until you were trapped between the two of them, their bodies mere inches apart.

"Is that what you want?" Vi murmured, her voice a mix of anger and desire. "For us to fight over you?"

You shake your head, feeling the heat of both their bodies against yours. "No," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That's not it at all."

But your words seem to have the opposite effect as Caitlyn's grip tightens, her nails digging into your skin. Her eyes are stormy, and you can see the challenge in them, a silent dare to prove your worth. Vi mirrors her, leaning in so close that you can feel the warmth of her breath. The scent of their combined desire is intoxicating, mixing with the faint aroma of sweat and the metallic tang of unbridled emotion.

Vi's hand reaches out, grabbing the back of your neck, her touch firm but not painful. "Then tell us what you want," she says, her voice a soft growl that sends a shiver down your spine.

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I just... I just want us to be okay," you manage to get out, feeling your heart racing.

Caitlyn's expression softens a fraction, but the hunger in her eyes doesn't waver. She leans in, her full, soft lips brushing against your ear. "Is that all?" she whispers, her breath sending a shiver down your spine.

Vi's hand moves down to your hip, her fingers digging in, claiming you. "You know we can give you more than just okay," she says, her voice a seductive purr that sends a rush of heat between your legs.

You gulp, feeling the weight of their combined gazes, the intensity of their emotions. You know what they're suggesting, and part of you wants it, craves the distraction, the release. You nod, and in that moment, the room seems to shift, the tension morphing into something else entirely.

Caitlyn's eyes light up with a feral hunger as she moves in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, her teeth nipping at yours. You gasp into her mouth, the taste of her anger mixing with the sweetness of her desire. Vi's hand slides from your hip to the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head, her eyes never leaving yours.

You're pinned between them now, your body responding to their touch despite the argument's aftermath still hanging in the air. Caitlyn's hand moves to the back of your neck, mimicking Vi's hold, as they both guide you towards the bedroom. The softness of the carpet under your bare feet is a stark contrast to the harshness of their grips.

The door clicks shut behind you, and the room seems to shrink as their passion envelops you. Clothes are ripped and discarded in a frenzy of movement, each piece removed with the force of their pent-up emotions. The sound of fabric tearing is almost as satisfying as the feeling of their skin against yours.

Caitlyn's teeth graze your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. Her kisses are demanding, a silent apology for her earlier anger. Vi's hands are everywhere, exploring your body with a fierce possessiveness that sends waves of desire crashing through you. You're sandwiched between them, the mattress beneath you giving way as you're pushed down onto it.

Vi's mouth finds your nipple, sucking hard, the sensation making you arch your back. Caitlyn's teeth nip at your shoulder, her hands sliding down to grip your hips firmly. You're surrounded by them, their scents mingling, their breaths hot on your skin. It's overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

Their touches are rough, almost violent, but you find yourself responding to it. Maybe it's the residual anger in the air, or the way they seem to crave each other through you, but your body is alight with need. "Oh... fuck me.." You moan, unable to hold it back, as Caitlyn's mouth moves to your other breast, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

Vi's hand slides down your stomach, her fingers dancing closer and closer to the dampness between your legs. She groans into your neck as she feels how wet you are, the sound vibrating through your body. "You like this, don't you?" she murmurs, her voice filled with a dark satisfaction.

You nod, unable to form coherent words as Caitlyn's teeth move to your earlobe, tugging gently. "Say it," she demands, her voice a rough whisper. "Tell us how much you want us."

You gasp, "I...I want you both so much," your voice trembling with desire.

Their grips on you tighten, their kisses becoming more insistent. Vi's hand reaches your center, her fingers sliding through your folds, teasing your clit with a firmness that makes you whine. Caitlyn's mouth moves to your other ear, her tongue tracing the shell before whispering, "Beg for it, baby."

You do, your voice desperate. "Please, fuck me," you moan, the words tumbling from your lips. You can feel their smirks against your skin, the satisfaction of knowing you're at their mercy.

Vi's fingers plunge into you without warning, her thumb circling your clit with a roughness that sends sparks through your body. You cry out, your legs instinctively spreading wider to give her better access. Caitlyn's mouth moves to your neck, her teeth scraping along the tender skin as she kisses and sucks.

Their touches are a symphony of pain and pleasure, each stroke and bite a declaration of their need for one another. You're lost in the sensations, the argument from moments ago forgotten as you become the focus of their passion.

Vi's fingers move with a purpose inside you, her thumb relentlessly working your clit. Caitlyn's teeth graze your neck, her kisses turning into bites that leave a trail of heat along your skin. "Look at you," Vi coos, her voice a mix of satisfaction and amusement. "Moaning like a bitch in heat."

You whimper, the insult only fueling your arousal as you feel yourself getting wetter. You know they're just playing, pushing each other's buttons through you, but the words still make you squirm. Caitlyn's grip on your hip tightens, her other hand moving to cup your cheek, turning your face to look at her.

"You love it, don't you?" she says, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You love when we're like this."

You do love it, the way they use your body to work out their issues, turning anger into something primal and sexual. You moan louder as Vi's fingers plunge deeper, the roughness of her touch pushing you closer to the edge.

Vi laughs, a dark, smoky sound that fills the room as she keeps tossing degrading words at you, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of it. "Such a good little slut, aren't you?" she says, her voice a wicked purr that makes your cheeks flush with a mix of arousal and embarrassment.

Caitlyn's eyes darken, a smirk playing on her lips as she watches Vi work you into a frenzy. She leans in, her teeth grazing your neck. "Is that all you want?" she asks, her voice a soft challenge. "To be used and degraded?"

You can't help but nod, your body betraying your thoughts. The harsh words only make you wetter, the idea of being their toy, their shared prize, turning you on in a way you never knew was possible. Vi's laugh is like a whip crack, sharp and stinging, as she keeps tossing degrading words at you, each one hitting its mark.

"Yeah, you do," she says, her eyes gleaming with a dark delight. "You're a greedy little whore, aren't you?" Her fingers are a blur between your legs, and you can feel your orgasm building, a crescendo of sensation that threatens to consume you whole.

You whimper, nodding, the words cutting through you like a hot knife through butter. The harshness of her language is a stark contrast to the gentle way Caitlyn holds your face, but it's the perfect balance of power and submission. You can feel their tension dissolving into something else, something raw and primal, as they use your body to find their own release.

Vi's fingers work you over mercilessly, her laugh turning into a series of low, guttural sounds that resonate through your core. Each insult is a stroke of genius, designed to push you closer to the edge. "You're just a cum dumpster," she murmurs, her voice thick with desire. "A fucking hole for us to fill."

Caitlyn's hand moves from your cheek to your throat, her grip firm but not tight enough to cut off your air. She watches you closely, the smirk on her face growing as your eyes glaze over. "Is that what you are?" she asks, her voice a seductive whisper. "Our little cum slut?"

You nod, your breath coming in ragged pants, the words only serving to inflame your desire. You've never felt so wanted, so desired, so... alive.

Vi's thumb presses down on your clit, and you can't help but buck your hips, the pleasure too intense to hold back. "Fuck!" you scream, your body trembling.

Caitlyn's hand tightens on your neck, a silent command to keep looking at her as Vi continues to manipulate your body. "That's it," she whispers, her eyes dark with need. "Take it."

Vi's fingers work you over, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge. You can feel the tension in the room crackling, the air charged with the electricity of their desire and the intensity of your own climax. Your hips jerk against Vi's hand, your body begging for more, and she's all too happy to give it.

Then, in the heat of the moment, a slip of the tongue. "Fuck me, Mommy," you moan, the words leaving your lips before you can stop them. Vi's hand stills, a look of shock passing over her face before it's quickly replaced with a wicked grin. "Mommy, huh?" she says, her voice dripping with amusement. "I think you might need a little more punishment for that."

Caitlyn's eyes widen, and she laughs, the sound low and dark. "Well, well," she says, her voice husky. "Looks like someone's got a naughty side." Her grip on your throat loosens, and she leans in closer, her breath hot against your cheek. "Is that what you really want, baby?"

You blush, your body trembling with need. You didn't mean to say that, but now that the words are out, you can't deny the thrill that runs through you. "I-I don't know," you stutter, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat.

Vi's grin widens, her eyes glinting with mischief. She leans back, giving you a moment to breathe as she pulls her hand away. "Well, if that's what you want," she says, her voice a purr that sends shivers down your spine.

Caitlyn releases your neck, her thumb tracing the delicate skin as she looks at Vi, a silent question in her eyes. Vi nods, a wicked glint in her gaze. "We can definitely give you that," she says, her voice a promise that sends a thrill of excitement and a shiver of fear through your body.

They exchange a look that feels like it's searing you with its intensity. You're not sure what you've unleashed, but you know you want it. You want them to claim you, to take you apart and put you back together again in a way that only they can.

Caitlyn moves away, and for a brief moment, you feel cold without her touch. But Vi's hand is quick to replace it, her fingers sliding down your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She straddles your hips, her eyes never leaving yours as she reaches for the nightstand.

"What are you doing?" you ask, breathless, your heart racing.

Vi's smile widens, and she holds up the dildo, a glossy black toy with a slight curve that you've never seen before. "It's time to introduce you to some new sensations," she says, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I've had this little toy for a while, but it seems we never got around to using it."

You watch as she coats the dildo with lubricant, the sight of it making you squirm with anticipation. Caitlyn moves back to the bed and settle in behind you, her eyes never leaving yours as Vi lines the toy up with your entrance. The coolness of the silicone against your sensitive flesh makes you gasp, but it's quickly replaced by a burning need as Vi presses it into you, inch by inch.

You try to squirm away, the sensation new and overwhelming, but their combined strength keeps you in place. "Easy," Caitlyn murmurs, her hand sliding up your chest to cup your breast. "You can take it."

Vi's grip on your hips tightens as she begins to move the dildo in and out of you, each stroke sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Your feet kick the air, legs straining, as you try to find purchase, to either push away or pull closer, you're not even sure anymore. "No, please, I can't," you whine, the words a mix of protest and plea.

Their eyes meet over your body, and you can see the thrill in them, the excitement of watching you squirm and beg. Caitlyn's hand moves from your breast to your cheek, turning your face back to hers. "You can, baby," she says, her voice soothing despite the fiery need in her gaze. "You can take everything we give you."

Vi's strokes with the dildo become more deliberate, the angle changing to hit that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back in your head. You moan, the word "Mommy" slipping out again, and this time it's Caitlyn's eyes that darken with lust. "Keep saying it," she whispers, her hand moving to your mouth to muffle your cries.

Your body feels like it's on fire, their touches and words lighting you up from the inside out. You're lost in the sensation, the sound of your own moans echoing in your ears as Vi works you over. You feel a hand slide up your thigh, and Caitlyn's fingers find your clit, adding to the overwhelming feeling of fullness.

You throw your head back into Caitlyn's shoulder, gasping for air. "I can't," you whine, the words barely coherent. "It's too much."

But Caitlyn isn't listening. She brings her hand to your lip, the scent of your arousal heavy in the air. She forces your mouth open and slides two of her fingers in, coated with your wetness. "Taste yourself," she whispers, her voice a siren's call that you can't resist.

You moan around the intrusion, the taste of your own desire almost as intoxicating as their combined scent. You suck on her fingers, the salty-sweet flavor making your toes curl. Vi watches, her eyes hooded with lust as she continues to pump the dildo into you, the rhythm relentless.

"Good girl," Caitlyn murmurs, her voice a warm caress against your ear. "Tell us how much you like it." Her hand moves from your mouth to your throat, her thumb tracing gentle circles as she squeezes slightly, reminding you who's in control.

You can't help but moan around her fingers, the pressure sending a thrill through your body. "M-Mommy," you pant, the word slipping out again, and you feel Vi's grip on your hips tighten in response.

"Look how much she loves it," Caitlyn says, her voice a low purr that vibrates through your body. "Such a good little slut for us."

Vi's strokes become faster, the dildo filling you up as she watches your reactions with a predatory gaze. You're powerless against the onslaught of sensation, your body a canvas for their pleasure. You arch your back, pushing down on the toy, silently begging for more.

Then, without warning, Vi pulls the dildo out, leaving you empty and gasping for air. You clench around nothing, your body desperately seeking the fullness it craves. "What the fuck?" you manage to get out, your voice a mix of frustration and need.

Vi just grins at you, a wicked glint in her eye. "What?" she says, her voice a taunt. "You think a dirty little wench like you gets to cum that easily?"

Caitlyn chuckles, her hand sliding down to replace the dildo with two of her own fingers, pushing inside you without warning. "We're just getting started," she says, her voice a low growl that makes you quiver with anticipation.

Vi leans over you, her hand coming down to slap your pussy, the sound echoing through the room. You yelp, the sting mixing with the pleasure of Caitlyn's fingers, making your eyes water. "What a whore," Vi says, her voice filled with amusement and a hint of admiration. "Begging for it like that."

The slap sends a jolt through your body, and you can't help but moan. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but the pain feels good, like it's grounding you in the moment. Vi's eyes are alight with something dark, a hunger that you've never seen before. She brings her hand back up, her fingers lingering on the spot she slapped, feeling the heat of your skin.

"Since your pussy is so tight," she says, her voice a low growl, "I wonder what else is."

With those words, Vi pulls the dildo from your pussy and presses the tip against your tight asshole. You tense up, the sensation foreign and overwhelming. But Caitlyn's hand is there, her thumb stroking your clit in a way that makes you want to scream. The conflict of pain and pleasure is almost too much to handle.

"Relax," she whispers, her voice a gentle command. You try, your body responding to her touch despite your trepidation. You feel the dildo breach you, the pressure intense as Vi works it in slowly. The burn is uncomfortable, but the way Caitlyn's eyes never leave yours, the way she watches your every reaction, makes it almost bearable.

"That's it," Caitlyn murmurs, her voice soothing despite the grip she has on your throat. "Take it for us." Her thumb moves in lazy circles on your clit, the pleasure a stark contrast to the pain as Vi's dildo stretches you open. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the cry that threatens to escape, but it's no use.

The sound of your own whimpers fills the room, a symphony of lust and need that only spurs them on. Vi's strokes become more deliberate, her hand moving the dildo in and out of your ass with a precision that speaks of experience. You can feel yourself stretching around it, your body desperately trying to adjust.

Caitlyn's thumb speeds up, the pleasure becoming a crescendo that's almost too much to handle. "You're doing so good," she whispers, her voice filled with a mix of admiration and hunger. "Such a good little slut for us."

You cry out, the word "please" leaving your lips in a desperate plea. "Let me adjust," you manage to get out between gasps. "I-I can't... Mommy, please."

Vi's eyes flash with something dark and hungry, a smirk playing on her lips. "You're so adorable when you beg," she says, her voice a purr that sends a shiver down your spine. She gives the dildo a gentle twist, the feeling making you jolt. "But we're not done yet."

Caitlyn's thumb moves in tandem with Vi's strokes, the pressure on your clit increasing as your body fights the intrusion in your ass. You can feel yourself stretching around the toy, the pain morphing into something more, something that makes your toes curl. "Mommy," you whine, the word a desperate plea for relief.

Caitlyn's grip on your neck tightens, her eyes never leaving yours. "What do you need, baby?" she asks, her voice a seductive purr that sends shivers down your spine.

You gasp, trying to form words through the haze of pleasure and pain. "More," you finally manage, your voice a breathless whisper. "Please, more."

Vi's smirk widens, and she obliges, slamming the dildo into your ass without warning. The suddenness of it makes you scream, the sound raw and primal. The shock sends you spiraling closer to the edge, your body no longer fighting the intrusion but craving it. You feel your muscles clench around the toy, trying to draw it in deeper.

Caitlyn's smile is pure wickedness as she kisses your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. She starts to move her fingers in time with Vi's strokes, the feeling of being filled from both sides driving you wild. You've never felt so full, so claimed, so... owned. The pleasure is so intense, it's almost unbearable.

Her touch is gentle but firm, her kisses a silent promise of the storm that's about to break. You can feel the muscles in your pussy clench around her fingers, desperate for more. Caitlyn's eyes never leave yours, her gaze holding you captive as she explores the depths of your desire. You're panting now, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

With every stroke, Caitlyn's smile grows, feeding off your whimpers of need. Her kisses move from your neck to your collarbone, her teeth grazing your skin in a way that makes your eyes roll back. She's in no hurry, savoring the moment, drawing it out like a fine wine. Each kiss feels like a brand, a declaration of ownership that makes your toes curl.

Then, the saliva that's been pooling in your mouth overflows, and you can't help but drool. The warm wetness rolls down your chin and onto your chest, making its way down to your tits. The sight of it, the sheer abandon of the act, sends a jolt of electricity through Vi. She watches, transfixed, as it glistens on your nipples, making them even more tantalizing.

Her hand moves faster, the dildo pumping into your ass with a rhythm that matches the pounding of your heart. The pain is now a distant memory, replaced by a white-hot need that threatens to consume you. You can feel yourself getting closer, the tension in your body winding tighter with every stroke.

Caitlyn's thumb presses down harder on your clit, and you know you're about to break. "Please," you beg, the word a desperate gasp that's almost inaudible. "I need to cum."

Vi's strokes become more erratic, her breaths coming in short pants as she watches you squirm. "Do it," she says, her voice a harsh command that sends a thrill through your body. "Cum for us, slut."

Caitlyn's thumb presses harder, the pressure just shy of painful as she brings you closer to the edge. Your body feels like it's about to snap, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. "Now," she whispers, and you do, your orgasm ripping through you like a tornado, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

You scream, the sound echoing off the walls, as your body convulses in pleasure. Vi's dildo is still moving inside you, the sensation almost too much to handle as your pussy contracts around Caitlyn's fingers. You're so sensitive that even the slightest touch feels like a bolt of lightning.

Vi's eyes never leave yours, watching the pleasure play out on your face with a look of triumph. Caitlyn's kisses become more gentle now, her touch soothing as she rides out your orgasm with you. You feel their love and desire in every stroke, every kiss, every whispered word of praise.

And then, as the last waves of your climax subside, Vi pulls the dildo out of you with a wet pop, leaving you feeling empty and exposed. You're panting, your body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure as she leans down, her mouth hovering just above your swollen pussy. Her breath is hot against your sensitive flesh, making you squirm.

Vi's eyes are filled with a hunger that's almost feral as she looks up at you, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Tastes like victory," she murmurs, her voice thick with desire.

With a slow, deliberate move, Vi leans down and presses her lips to your sensitive pussy, kissing you as if you're the most delicious thing she's ever tasted. You gasp at the sudden tenderness, the stark contrast to the roughness of moments before making your toes curl. Her tongue flicks out, tasting you, and you can't help but push against her, desperate for more.

Caitlyn watches with a hungry gaze, her own desire evident in the way she licks her lips. She slides her fingers out of you, bringing them up to her mouth to suck on them, her eyes never leaving yours. "Mm," she murmurs, "you taste so good."

Vi's mouth is a symphony of pleasure, her tongue working you over with a finesse that's surprising given the roughness of the encounter. You moan, your hands reaching down to tangle in her hair, urging her closer. She takes the hint, her tongue delving into your folds, lapping up the juices that are still flowing from your body.

Caitlyn's eyes never leave yours, the smirk on her face one of pure satisfaction. She watches as Vi worships your pussy, the sight of it making her own desire burn even brighter. Her hand moves down to her own clit, her thumb circling it as she watches you lose yourself in the pleasure.

"I fucking love girls with pretty pussies like you," Vi mumbles, her words muffled by the sounds of her mouth against your skin. "So tight... warm and soft. Just... fucking perfect." Her tongue slides over your clit, the flat of it pressing down firmly, making you gasp. "Like you're begging me to destroy you."

Her words are a jumble of pleasure and praise, each one sending a new wave of heat through your body. You can feel the vibrations of her voice against your sensitive flesh, and it only makes your orgasm feel more intense. She's a maelstrom of passion, her mouth a whirlwind of sensation that you can't escape from.

Caitlyn's eyes are hooded with lust as she watches Vi work her magic on you. Her own hand moves faster, her thumb rubbing in tight circles on her own clit, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. The sight of you, lost in pleasure, is almost too much for her to handle.

Your orgasm seems to go on forever, your body trembling with the force of it. You've never felt so alive, so wanted, so... used. And it's glorious. Each lick of Vi's tongue feels like a declaration of war, a promise of more pleasure to come.

Caitlyn's hand moves from your neck to your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple in time with Vi's strokes. The pain is a sweet counterpoint to the pleasure, making you arch your back and push your chest out for more. "Good girl," she murmurs, her voice filled with pride. "Look how beautiful you are when you're being used."

Vi's mouth moves lower, her tongue sliding into your pussy, filling you up in a way that feels like it's going to break you apart. You're so sensitive that it's almost too much, but you can't bring yourself to ask her to stop. You need this, the feeling of being taken, of being theirs.

Caitlyn's hand moves to your ass, her fingers digging in as she pulls you closer to Vi's mouth. "Come for us," she whispers, her voice a dark promise in the chaos of pleasure. "Let us see how much of a mess you can make for us."

You whine, the sound a desperate mix of pleasure and pain. You don't know if you can handle anymore, but your body seems to have other ideas. With a final, vicious tug of her tongue, Vi sends you over the edge again, your pussy clenching around her mouth as you cum hard.

Vi pulls away, her mouth shiny with your juices, and grins up at you. "Looks like someone enjoyed that," she says, her voice smug and satisfied.

You can only nod, unable to form coherent words as your body still quivers with aftershocks. Your eyes are glazed over, your chest heaving with the effort of breathing. You're a mess, sprawled out on the bed, but the look in their eyes tells you that they think you're perfect.

Vi sits back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, leaving a trail of your arousal glistening on her skin. "Look at you," she says, her voice filled with pride. "Such a good little whore for us."

Caitlyn's grip tightens around your waist as you go limp against her, your body spent and boneless. Her eyes are warm with affection as she looks down at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "You're incredible," she whispers, kissing your neck.

You can't help but melt into her, the tenderness of her words a stark contrast to the roughness of the encounter. Her hands are gentle as they glide over your skin, her touch a comforting balm to the storm that's just passed through you. You lean into her, your breathing still ragged, your heart hammering in your chest.

Vi's smile is one of pure satisfaction as she sits back, watching the two of you with a glint in her eye. She reaches out, her thumb tracing the line of your jaw as she brings her hand up to cup your cheek. "You're ours," she says, her voice a low, sultry purr that sends a fresh wave of heat through your body.

You look up at her, your eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure, and nod. The words hang in the air, a declaration that makes your heart race. You've never felt so claimed, so completely owned by someone else's desire. It's a heady feeling, one that you never want to lose.

But even as the afterglow of your orgasm lingers, you can feel the beginnings of exhaustion. Your muscles ache, your skin is sticky with sweat, and every breath feels like it's made of molasses. "I'm... I'm tired," you admit, your voice a soft whisper that seems to echo through the room.

Caitlyn's smile doesn't waver, but her eyes soften. She brushes a strand of hair away from your face, her touch gentle. "Let us take care of you," she says, her voice a warm caress.

Vi nods, her own expression filled with something that might be tenderness. She climbs off the bed, her movements surprisingly graceful for someone so powerful. She walks over to the nightstand and grabs a bottle of water, twisting the cap off with a practiced ease. She brings it to your lips, the cool liquid slipping down your throat, soothing the fire that's been raging within you.

You take a deep, shuddering breath as the water hits your stomach, the coldness of it a stark contrast to the heat that's still pooling between your legs. Caitlyn's hand is still on your waist, her thumb stroking lazy circles that make you want to squirm. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice hoarse from screaming.

With a gentle nudge from Caitlyn, you lean back into her shoulder, closing your eyes and letting out a contented sigh. The feel of her skin against yours is a balm to your overstimulated senses, the scent of her a comforting blanket that wraps around you. Her hand slides up your stomach, her fingers tracing the line of your ribs before settling on your chest. You can feel her heart beating against your back, a steady rhythm that grounds you.

Vi sets the water bottle aside and moves closer, her eyes never leaving yours. She runs a hand through your hair, her touch featherlight. "You're so beautiful when you're like this," she murmurs, her voice filled with something that sounds suspiciously like affection.

You manage a tired smile, the muscles in your face feeling like they've been put through a workout. "Thanks," you murmur, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm... I'm just really tired."

Caitlyn nods, her grip on you tightening for a brief moment before she eases you onto your side, tucking you against her. She runs her hand down your back, her touch soothing and gentle, a stark contrast to the fiery passion that had consumed you minutes before. "Rest, baby," she whispers. "We've got you."

Vi settles in beside you, her strong arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to her firm body. You can feel the heat of her skin, the steady beat of her heart beneath your ear, and it's comforting in a way you didn't know you needed. She kisses your shoulder, her breath warm and soft against your skin. "You did so good," she murmurs, her voice filled with something that feels suspiciously like pride.

You lean into her embrace, the warmth of her body enveloping you like a blanket, chasing away the chill that's started to settle in. You can't help but let out a contented sigh, your eyes drifting shut. Caitlyn's hand slides down your side, her touch gentle and reassuring. "Rest," she whispers, her breath warm against the nape of your neck. "You've earned it."

Vi's grip shifts slightly, her hand moving to rest on your hip. You can feel the callouses on her palm, a stark reminder of the power she wields. Yet here she is, her touch tender and loving, cradling you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world. It's a side of her you rarely get to see, and it makes your heart swell with love.

You snuggle closer to Caitlyn, her breasts pressing into your back, the softness of them a stark contrast to the firmness of Vi's body against your front. It's like being sandwiched between two opposites, two sides of a coin that somehow fit perfectly together. You've never felt so cherished, so... claimed. The thought sends a warm thrill through your body, and you can't help but let out a contented sigh.

Maybe being their good girl wasn't so bad at all.

#vi arcane #vi x you #vi x reader #vi smut #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitvi #caitlyn smut #arcane smut #arcane x reader #ᯓᡣ𐭩han

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leriexoxo · 9 days ago

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SKZ HEADCANONS

Stray Kids And Their Styles Of Dominance (OT8)

SUBMISSION>>

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

🔥 Chan – The Overwhelming One

Type: Control freak in the bedroom. He’s the type to whisper “Don’t hold back, baby. Let me hear everything.”

Kinks: Praise, edging, light bondage (especially with your wrists tied above your head), overstimulation, heavy eye contact.

Energy: Sweaty, breathy, emotional sex. Will ruin you gently over hours and then apologize with a kiss and go again.

Power Move: Pulls your legs over his shoulders and says, “You can take one more for me, right?”—even when you’re already shaking.

🔥 Lee Know – The Mean Tease

Type: Sarcastic, controlled, cruel with love. He likes seeing you squirm, blush, beg.

Kinks: Degradation (light to medium), orgasm denial, spanking, mirror sex, pet names used mockingly —“Good girl? You think that was good?”.

Energy: Slow and precise. The kind of man who’ll edge you for an hour and finish in 5 minutes just to make a point.

Power Move: Makes you say exactly what you want, in humiliating detail, before giving it to you—if at all.

🔥 Changbin – The Powerhouse

Type: Cocky and physical. Wants to wreck you but also make you feel worshipped while doing it.

Kinks: Breeding kink, hair pulling, size kink (he knows), possessive dirty talk.

Energy: Grunts in your ear and pins your wrists above your head while whispering, “Who’s making you feel this good, huh?”

Power Move: Picking you up mid-thrust and fucking you against a wall like it’s nothing.

🔥 Hyunjin – The Sensual Sadist

Type: Loves slow, passionate teasing—then suddenly flips the switch. Touch-starved, but dangerous.

Kinks: Sensory play (ice, silk, blindfolds), choking, begging, body worship (both ways).

Energy: Eye contact that makes you melt. He’ll cry during sex and still wreck your soul.

Power Move: Makes you cry from a mix of pleasure and overstimulation, then kisses your tears away while still inside you.

🔥 Han Jisung – The Filthy Flirt

Type: Playful, chaotic, dangerously quick to turn serious. Always ready. Talks dirty like he was born for it.

Kinks: Exhibitionism, roleplay, oral fixation, mutual masturbation, audio/phone sex.

Energy: Gets off on how loud you get, how messy it becomes. Laughs while fucking you like a demon.

Power Move: Makes you come in public—without touching you—by whispering exactly what he’ll do later.

🔥 Felix – The Quiet Menace

Type: Soft voice, not soft in bed. Looks sweet while being filthy. Low-voiced dirty talk will destroy you.

Kinks: Voice kink (his and yours), praise, cockwarming, thigh riding, lowkey dom aftercare.

Energy: Says “You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart” while ruining you from behind, hand in your hair.

Power Move: Makes you ride him while he leans back, hands behind his head, smirking like the devil.

🔥 Seungmin – The Sarcastic Threat

Type: Cold, slow-burning dominance. Mean, dry humor during sex. Gets meaner when he’s horny.

Kinks: Brat taming, overstimulation, verbal degradation, rough missionary, hand over your mouth.

Energy: “Were you this needy earlier when you were pretending not to care?” before fucking the attitude out of you.

Power Move: Laughs at how loud you’re getting, then says “Guess I’ll have to go deeper, huh?”

🔥 Jeongin – The Hidden Weapon

Type: Sweet-smiling menace. Doesn’t seem dangerous—until he’s got you pinned and crying.

Kinks: Power play, teasing dom, face fucking, manhandling, thigh grabbing, jealousy sex.

Energy: The kind of guy who’ll gently push your head down, say “You wanted this, right?” then wreck your throat.

Power Move: Pulls out halfway just to watch you beg for it again—and laughs while doing it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Requests for ONLY headcanons are open for now. Please note that I prefer to respond to non anonymous requests, cause I’m pretty serious about minors not interacting with me 🧡

Taglist: @tsunderelino @innieandsungielover @inlovewithstraykids @reignessance @jeonismm @sttnficrecs @herejusttemporary @krssliu @kenia4 @miilquetoast @thackery-blinks @leeminho-hall @suga-is-bae @butterflydemons @inejghafawifesblog @malunar28replies @minchanlimbo @mal-lunar-28 @breakmeofftbr @itvenorica124 @slut4junho @deepblueocean97 @thequibbie @yaorzu-blog @imagine-all-the-imagines @just-bria @mischievousleeknow @ifyxu @melanctton @thelostprincessofasgard @binniebb @sillylittlecat1 @darkwitchoferie @m-325 @headfirstfortoro @imseungminsgf @ihrtlix @vernorica123 @hwangjoanna @swordswallower2000 @niki007 @yxna-bliss @firelordtsuki @justwonder113 @mbioooo0000 @sammhisphere @nebugalaxy @cutecucumberkimberly @chancloud8 @sunflwerstar

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jinjoohaa · 6 days ago

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JJK men when you go on a date with another guy

CW: NSFW, possessiveness, emotional manipulation, degradation, choking (light), spanking, begging, mild dubcon vibes, toxic obsession, heartbreak, praise/degradation mix, somnophilia undertones (Geto), angst-laced smut. 18+ only.

Kento Nanami

Painfully adult about it. He won’t beg, won’t yell, but the way his jaw clenches when you tell him is telling enough. He’ll give you space... but not without asking for something first.

“One last time,” he says, low, almost reverent. “I need to remember what it felt like to be inside you before someone else takes my place.”

That night is slow torture. He kisses you like a man saying goodbye, touches you like he’s etching the memory into his bones. He doesn't cum until you're begging, and even then, he does it deep, slow, aching—whispers a broken “thank you” into your neck as he finishes. Then he leaves before morning, and doesn’t come to your room again.

Satoru Gojo

Oh, he loses it. Cracks wide open.

The second he finds out, he spirals—starts cracking jokes to cover the panic. Then he gets quiet. Real quiet. Follows you around the apartment like a kicked puppy. When you try to leave, he’s at the door, blocking it.

“Please don’t go,” he murmurs, eyes wide and glassy. “Don’t let someone else have you. You think he’s gonna love you like I do? Talk to you the way I talk to you when you're stuffed full of my cock and crying my name?”

Drops to his knees right there in the hallway. Arms around your thighs, face pressed into your stomach. Whispers, “I’ll be good. I’ll stop flirting with everyone else. I’ll give you everything. Just don’t go. I love you so much, please.”

Filthy, desperate, so full of love it’s pathetic. And if you give in? He eats you out right there on the floor like a man starved, moaning into your pussy like it’s the only thing that can save him.

Toji Fushiguro

Quiet. Cold. Terrifying.

Doesn’t say a word when you tell him. Just stare at you with that heavy, unreadable look, jaw ticking. That night, he doesn’t come out of his room. The next morning, he’s gone before you wakes up.

Then you comes back from your “date.”

Toji’s sitting in the kitchen in the dark, one arm thrown over the back of a chair, the other holding a drink. He doesn’t even look at you. Just says, “He touch you?”

If you lie? He stands, walks over slow, cages you against the fridge with one arm, and sniffs your neck like a predator. “Lying won’t save you, baby.”

If you don’t stop him—if you so much as breathes wrong—he lifts you onto the counter and ruins you. One hand choking you gently, the other between your legs, growling things like, “You think some college boy can fuck you like this? You think he knows what to do with a mouthy little cunt like yours?”

Fuck you so deep and mean you forget why you even went out in the first place.

Suguru Geto

Smiles like it’s a joke.

“Oh? A date?” he says, smirking from the couch. “How cute. Hope he doesn’t bore you to death.”

But behind closed doors, he’s pacing. Smoking. Muttering to Gojo about how they should’ve marked you earlier. When you get back, he’s already in your bed, legs spread, shirt off, holding your favorite hoodie in his lap like a fucking scent-hound.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he purrs as you walk in. “Did he make you laugh? Did he make you wet?”

You say no. Of course you say no.

“Good girl,” he says. “Now come here and let me erase him.”

Tie your wrists above your head and make you cum until you're sobbing. Spanks you until your thighs are shaking. Makes you say his name over and over, soft and fucked-out, while he kisses the tears from your cheeks and murmurs, “No one will ever love you the way we do.”

Comment down to get tagged when i post any JJK content. Also I started a backup account in case something happens to my current one - just to be safe lol, So if y'all are interested, @jinjoohaa-blog - do follow !

taglist : @sukunasbigtiddiewifey @savagecatsuga @bunny-wunni @sparkling-obsidian @ssstingrayyyyyyyy @pota-hoe @shiroonii @odysseusmom @thekkatherineblogg @dinokens-blog @dontcallmedoc @fairygardenprincesss @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh

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yourlocalangeldoll · 4 months ago

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*ੈ Dom, Sub or switch? / Squid game

characters: Gyeong su / player 256, Thanos / Player 230, Nam Gyu / Player 124, Hyun ju / Player 120, Kang Dae ho / Player 388, Jun ho

a/n: last post before short hiatus 🎀 Trust me y’all will be FED whne i come back. Gyeong su and Thanos are lowk half assed because i wrote them both TWICE than tumblr glitched and got rid of it.

cw: 18+!, mdni, light smut, nsfw talk obviously, degradation, spit, hand kink mention, nsfw link, pegging mention, handjobs, toys mention, overstimulation, restraints, mentions of surgeries(not in an nsfw way), only proofread once.

*ੈ Gyeong su / Player 256

*ੈ 100% a switch. When he’s dom he is ALWAYS a softdom but still a freak. KING of body worship when he’s both subbing and domming. He NEEDS to be physically close to you at all the time but ESPECIALLY when subbing. Doggy position while you peg him will just not work, even prone position is pushing it. Peg him in missionary and he’ll cum in a matter of seconds. When subbing he’s all whiny ‘n needy. More of a handjob than blowjob guy. Get’s sooo subby when you’re giving him a handjob.

- . . Gyeong su’s body is leaning into yours. Your own body behind his while he’s practically wrapped in your arms that were brought around and tugging on his cock. Your neck covered in tears and saliva where his head was hidden. Body shaking from your continued stimulation on his spent cock from his previous orgasm just seconds ago. “Come on, you can give me one more right?” You pout. Your words earned a whine from him in response but a nod nevertheless, his body relaxing further into yours. “Good boy,” You praise while placing a soft kiss to the top of his head, smirk on your face while you sped up your hand on his cock, feeling his cock twitch at your words. . . -

*ੈ Thanos / Player 230

*ੈ Dom obviously. Being a sub is practically unheard of with Thanos. He’s the one doing all the work most of the time. He’s such a good mix between hard and soft dom. He fucks ‘n pleasures you like he hates your guts but then is all soft when talking, still filthy but his words softer. And don’t get me started on of he’s the one to take your virginity. But don’t let that fool you, if you’ve annoyed him and gotten on his nerves a little too much he will not hesitate to put your back in your place. In the rare instance he does Sub it’s most likely because he fucked up and you aren’t getting over it easily or you’ve begged him a lot.

- . . Rough groans escaped Thano’s lips. Your hand working fast on his cock but stopping before he could release. His hands tied behind the chair lazily along with his ankles to the feet’s of the chair. He couldn’t help the pathetic groans that escaped him when you halted your movements again, head thrown back frustratedly. “You’re such a dick, i don’t even know why i’m still with you.” You complain, focusing more on letting all your frustrations out in words instead of his dick, much to his dismay. Thano’s was only half listening, knowing your words were nothing but frustration. But one thing he caught onto -“Can’t even get out of some lazy restraints.”- made him struggle to restrain the smirk that formed on his face, knowing damn well he could snap out of the restraints if he wanted, hell he practically holding them together. But he’d let you believe anything if it means his girl isn’t upset with him anymore. . . -

*ੈ Nam Gyu / Player 124

*ੈ Hard dom, is that really surprising? He’d be so mean and you’d absolutely lovee it. He is SO into humiliating you and gets off on you crying big time. spit spitting spit. He’d have a field day if you have a hand kink because his hands are SCRUMPTIOUS and he knows it 😮‍💨 I feel like despite being such an ass if it’s your first time or maybe not in the mood to be too rough he’d be completely fine with going softer but that’s not typically the mood with him. He’d either fuck you rough and fast as fuck or still rough but deep af thrusts. You’d swear he’s trying to push past your cervix or sum. He’d force you into such awkward positions that aren’t typically the norm. Some positions like corkscrew, prone or sideways 69. He LOVES to fuck you in the ‘Butter Churner’ position.

- . . You’re back’s straining from the position your boyfriend managed to convince you to get into. But god did you feel fucking amazing. The cool surface of the wooden floor was a stark contrast to the warmth and sweat on your body. Nam Gyu was nice enough to help you by holding your ankles in his hands. But his pace was unrelenting and had your back getting littered with light scratches with each jolt of your back against the wood. “So fucking easy to use, like a sex doll.” He’d say while spitting down on you, laughing as your face contorts in disgust as his spit lands right on your eye. . . -

*ੈ Hyun ju / Player 120

*ੈ Soft dom of course !! i really can’t see her as a sub tbh. She’d be so sweet, whispering praises while she fucks you with her fingers. She’d even gently brush your hair out from your face while placing a soft kiss to your cheek 💞💞. I do feel like she’d use toys.. nothing too crazy. Either has a wand or rabbit vibrator and a single dildo, pretty simple ‘n vanilla. She is SO talented with her fingers and mouth. I imagine if she hasn’t had all her surgeries yet she’d be a little less inclined to be naked herself. Controversial take but i don’t think she’d fuck you if she hasn’t had bottom surgery yet.. it’s just hard to imagine.. i mean she doesn’t even like people staring at her.

- . . You’re laying on your back, body comfy on the bed while you made out with Hyun ju. What started as a relatively innocent movie night taking a slight turn as Hyun ju’s hand made way past the band of your pj and panties and started rubbing soft, experienced circles on your clit. Just hard enough to have your thighs closing around her hand. The two of you’s tongue ‘fighting’ for dominance as her hand made way further down. A gasp escaping your lips once one of her fingers pushed past your folds and into you. Hyun ju just chuckled slightly, wrapping arm around your back and up, gently brushing hair out of your face. Her words gentle while you hid your head into her chest. “So pretty f’me.” . . -

*ੈ Kang Dae ho / Player 388

*ੈ Switch. I feel like if he’s domming or subbing would mostly be up to his partner. He doesn’t care much if he’s sub or dom because it feels good all the same 🤷‍♀️ The only time he’ll be overly rough with you is if you’re being a biggg fucking brat or you ask him to. Bro is a SUCKER for missionary. It’s just such an intimate position and he THRIVES of intimacy. He loves to be comforted ‘n praised ‘n all that so PLEASE do. I said this before here, but he’d either be constantly praising you while you ride him -which is also one of his favourite positions- or staring up at you in admiration. the second king of body worship hello?? Is that even really surprising?? Like Gyeong su he craves being physically close to you, during and not during sex. He’s vocal and IS NOT ashamed of it. He hates when you hide your own sounds aswell… doing that is one way ticket to either getting your hands tied to the headboard or his fingers shoved in your mouth ‘n keeping your mouth widee open. Y’all can and will do some of the filthiest shit together but it somehow still feels so intimate. If he’s subbing then he’s not too different.. but definitely more vocal, desperate ‘n whiny. There is SO much more i wanna say about my man but i’ll hold off for now..

- . . All you could feel was Dae ho’s hands roaming your body, his sloppy kisses to your neck, and the fast pace of his cock ramming in and out of your pussy. The only sounds in the rooms were your moans, the forgotten movie, wet sounds of skin slapping against skin and Dae ho’s own grunts ‘n moans. Your nails clawed at his bare back- sure to leave marks tomorrow for him to explain if anyone manages to see. “Shit.. you feel so good.” He groans into your neck, pulling away just enough to litter kisses to your face. “Look so pretty too.. can’t believe how lucky i am.” He says through kisses, hands coming up to squeeze your chest through your bra. “I love every part of you, you know that right?” And what you say in response doesn’t matter to him, because he’ll be rambling on about each part of your body and how he loves it. . . -

*ੈ Jun ho

*ੈ i feel like he’d be a mix between soft dom and hard dom. Sometimes you guys would fuck all slow ‘n lovey dovey, Jun ho whispering praises in your ears. While other times he’d be using you like a ragdoll and either saying nothing or saying light degrades(i don’t see him being too mean tbh just a bit more rough.) He’d hold your body up with ease and fuck you fast while you’re practically crying from overstimulation- having came from both his tongue and fingers. And he’d do nun but whisper soft degrades in your ear and tease you. Even when he’s soft he’d tease you A LOT. The only difference is that when y’all are soft the teasing is more playful. When you guys finally stop he is SUCH a gentleman and king at aftercare.

- . . “Please- too much Jun ho! too much-“ You’re crying out while Jun ho holds you by your arms. His cock going in and out of you at an almost dizzying pace. Despite the overstimulation your poor pussy is feeling it clenches around his cock at the chuckle that escapes his lips. His body moving forward, abdomen filling the arch of your back while his arm moved to wrap around your waist. His breath hot against the shell of your ear while he spoke. “Come on baby, i know you can last more than three rounds. If not then you shouldn’t have been such a fucking brat. Now quiet down and take it, i don’t want to hear any more complaining.” . . -

⟡ ݁₊ . written by yourlocalangel, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

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burdenandacrop · 5 months ago

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˗ˏˋ ❝ italian leather sofa. ❞ ˎˊ˗

thank u to the wonderful @thecourtjester-e for being the reason this is being written, ur MIIIIND. this goes hand in hand with my cake AND schlatt obsession so ... does a twirl.

HEAVILY based on the song italian leather sofa by CAKE !

summary : for a schlatt & co video, your [ secret ] boyfriend decides to take you out shopping. showing off his douche-bag internet persona, unbeknownst to him; that was actually quite the turn on. with a little fashion show back at home, he shows you just how hungry he's been.

⋮ ⌗ ┆established relationship, secret relationship, schlatt is mean in this one, you're also decently famous!, dabbles in a bit of spoiling, power difference k!nk, degrading mixed with some praising, rough smut.

the bright luminescent lights were beaming across the designer store, your hands gently trailing through the racks of numerous dresses. you weren't used to this sort of environment, but it was very quickly becoming second nature to you. to the internet's eye, you were schlatt's acquaintance who was mostly just known for your face. the running joke was that you were his personal thumbnail over-user, considering every video the two of you did got millions of views. almost the amount that his reaction videos got, and this was on his second channel. surprisingly, not a whole lot of people suspected you to be a pair. rather just an unconventional duo, which kind of worked on your end.

he brought the camera back up to your face, making you smile and droop your shoulders with a grin. "these good enough for you miss socialite?" schlatt sneers out, you wished the viewers could see just how cocky he looked in the moment. "brought her here to the most expensive mall in new york, nothing too smancy." he adds on, turning the camera to his face to wink and smile, "cause you know, i can afford that." god he was so insufferable, in a good way surprisingly. he brings the camera back to you, anticipating for you to say something. "i just need a dress for my event." you snicker out, rolling your eyes and searching the racks yet again.

"and of course you had to come here for it, didn't ya?" he teases, you just shake your head and continue to search the racks. eventually pulling out a red silk dress. schlatt was hoping to god the microphone wouldn't pick up how his breath hitched when he saw it. his mind already reeling on how it'd look on you. "this one?" you ask, looking at the camera with a smile. shaking the hanger and awaiting for schlatt to do anything but gawk. a part of you almost wanting to turn the camera right around just to show the viewers how down bad he was. "yeah get the red, brings out your rosacea real nice." he bites back with a chuckle.

you scoff at him and rub your cheek, worried that it was visible to the camera how aggravated your skin might've been. "yeah, get a purple tux to match your eyebags, dickhead." you groan out, hoping to one up him. you knew the viewers loved the bickering, especially with your one liners. "i'll get a ralph lauren one and call it a day, can't say you can do that." he replies with a smile, he knew you had your own money but he liked to occasionally throw in that he was a smidge more successful.

"yeah i can't wear a tux, no shit schlatt." you roll your eyes and stow the dress back on the rack. almost sending him into a panic, "editor, cut this." he stammers before leaning the camera down for a moment. "keep it, i'm buying it." he practically chokes out. your head whipping back to him with a smile, nodding and stowing the dress in between your arm. you secretly loved how he insisted on things like that, was kind of hot in a way.

he sighs in relief and brings the camera back up with a smile, going right back to his persona. "gonna buy anymore or are you too low on cash for it?" he stated, knowing damn well he'd be leaving this store with a dent in his wallet. "i'll have to look and see." you sigh out, looking to him for a moment before looking back to the racks. "you're no sydney sweeney but i'm sure it'll suffice." he stifles out, making you side eye him as you were just about to pull out another dress.

"and you're not hugh jackman with those chops." you say as you roll your eyes, pulling out another silk dress, except it was black. "now what about this one?" you state as if you didn't just plain insult him, the both of you knew it was just for viewer attention. "it looks like people will only be looking at the dress, saves the trouble of looking at your face." he snickers out, you look at him with a groan. suddenly seeing his lips mouth the words 'keep it. that one too.' it was so hilarious to see the switch, you just wished the rest could see, but of course, they couldn't. "you're truly such a gentleman, mommy must be so proud." you gruffly reply, making him shrug with a smug grin. "that she is." he measly replies.

"see what i put up with for clicks? she's so ungrateful." he adds on, rotating the camera back to his face with a sigh. you shake your head as you eye another dress, the royal blue was catching your eye. "and it seems miss socialite has found yet another dress that's gonna bankrupt her." schlatt chuckles out, panning the camera back over to you as you show off the dress with a smile. "isn't the color so nice?" you ask with the same cavity inducing smile, knowing it'd probably be clipped all over twitter. whatever, as long as it brought money with it. which is almost always did. you watched as schlatt sweetly grinned with a nod, hidden from the view of the lens. "how much is it again?" he says as he reaches for the dress to hang his fingers to the tag.

his eyes widening as he realized it was a $3000 dress, looking back up to you with a grin. he zoomed the lens into the tag, then slowly panned the camera back to his face. his eyes bugging out with his brows furrowed in a comical look, quickly dropping it for a more serious expression, "i spend that in an hour, anyways." he deadpans, making you scoff at him and turn yourself away from him. he looks up from the camera to see your irritated stature and belts out a low laughter, turning the camera right back to you. zooming right into your head, picking up how your head was shaking as you continued to browse the racks. "somebody's sour about that fact." schlatt teases, making you spin your head back to him with narrowed eyes. he was so unserious.

"what's this- event even about anyhow?" he honeyed, at least the question wasn't half bad. you leaned against the rack, twirling the hanger as you thought of how to answer. "it's for this upcoming body-care line, very prestigious." you reply with a grin, feeling a bit prideful that you did get invited to something like that anyhow. "they just don't invite majorly successful people to advertise their products, got it." he pokes, making you nudge his shoulder with a groan. the comments from him were never ending; but so was a lot of other things. "what? you don't think i can be a good representative of smelly goods?" he snickers out, drooping his shoulders at you with a slight pout. "yeah, you totally could." your tone couldn't be any more sarcastic.

he softly pumped a fist in the air and panned the camera back to him, "that's what i thought." he stated, looking back to you with a knowing smile. the little look giving you a good idea of how his ego was far from being bruised. "now if she could go through with this faster- i can get my watch." he sighs out, shaking his head at you as you continued to scroll through the racks. "this is the kind of greed that they talk about in the bible." he adds on, earning a little chuckle from you. his switch off button was no where to be found.

"a lot of talk coming from you, y'know?" you breathily reply, the weight of the dresses getting to you as they restlessly laid on your arm. "i'm allowed to talk." he snapped back, he noticed how the weight of the dresses were getting you as you bobbed your arm up and down to try and balance it. "look, now she's getting all tired. see what internet notoriety does?" he jokes, turning the camera back to your state. "tell that to a mirror." you reply with a chuckle, making him nod. "oh i do, every damn day baby." his tone was unbelievably cocky. though, another part of you was asking; why were you really liking it? now what did that say about YOU?

the camera had already been recording for a good thirty minutes, he followed you around for a short bit more. getting all the funny banter that he would need for the video, he already knew they would eat it up. it was you after all, you were basically an infinite money glitch. yeah, he was mean as shit to you on camera. he just didn't want people to interfere with your relationship, especially when the cameras were gone. he knew if his viewers, particularly his male viewers, knew he bagged such a beautiful girl. he'd never hear the rest of it on twitter, so it seemed it was the smarter decision. plus, what man likes to share? especially not him.

he stowed away his camera with a smile, immediately gripping his hand around your waist as the two of you reached the check-out line. "you're out of your mind if you think you're wearing any of those to that promo event." he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. you had a good five dresses in your arms, all together probably the amount that most people pay for a down payment on a bentley. "the black one's my favorite though." you whine out quietly, looking up into his eyes with a smile. "why do you think i don't want you wearing it out then?" he replies, his hands wandering up your back slowly. "just wear the blue one, cmon baby." he pleads. making you sigh and oblige to his request.

you knew exactly why he didn't want you wearing the black one, based on how you saw it was sewn. it'd look damn near painted on your figure, the blue one on the other hand was a lot more 'leave it up to your imagination' sort of deal. the two of you eventually made it up to the cashier, placing your dresses down as he checked the quality and the tag. "find everything to your expectations today, miss?" the cashier says as he begins to scan everything, his eyes a bit narrowed as he noticed the amount that was racking up. you fiddled your hands together in front of you, nodding to the cashier with a soft grin. "everything is to par." you felt so pretentious saying that, but you deserved it in a way.

you watched as the cashier raised his eyebrows to your reply, smiling to himself as he continued to scan the tags. his eyes almost lighting all the way up as the price continued to raise. you saw how his eyes wandered back to you, eyeing how your blouse sat on you. maybe a little too hard too, with a smile plastered on his face as he did so. schlatt let out a deep exhale, knowing it was loud enough to be a signal for him to keep his eyes where he needed them. if he wanted to keep them, that is. the cashier smiled and stood up more straight to eye the total, "$10,034.67, miss." he stated, almost not believing the price. schlatt watched how he was eyeing you, he was one to give second chances but he just blew that on how he was insistent on looking at you like that.

he took a step closer to the counter and leaned down slightly, just to throw it in the little cashier's face that he had a good six inches on him. cocky as ever, maybe some parts of the 'persona' were real after all. your eyes followed to him, noticing how irritated schlatt was getting to be. you knew you had to do something to get out of this, and pronto. you nervously smiled at the cashier before shuffling your hands to your purse, you couldn't imagine he was actually being serious about paying for all of this. that'd just be ridiculous. you felt his hand gently but strictly wrap around your wrist to halt your motion to try and grab your wallet. making you shoot your head back to him, "don't embarrass me like that." he says barely above a whisper. "you know i got it." he adds on with a sigh, pulling his wallet to whip out a black card of all his cards.

he used that card any chance he got, just to be annoying that he did in fact make that much. you watched as he handed it over to the cashier like it was nothing, looking back to you with a soft grin. "what?" he says as if he had no idea why you were looking at him like he had three heads. "douche." you roll your eyes with a smile. he shakes his head and leans his head down to reach you better, "you haven't seen anything yet." he whispers into your ear, you could practically hear the smug grin in his tone. the cashier carefully put all the dresses into the boxes, then slid into the bags. handing over the bag with a smile, "see you next time." he snarkily goodbyes, giving him a soft nod about to open your mouth to save the possibility of embarrassment. "oh you will." schlatt slyly replies before turning with you to leave, making sure to not let go of you for even a second. slightly tilting his head to eye the creep of a cashier, lowering his hand to your behind and nodding. he looked back to you and kissed the top of your head. was it prideful? yeah. did he care? no.

schlatt's head reeled back into the couch's leather, eyes closed as he impatiently waited for your little fashion show. the one that you insisted wasn't going to take long, now having him sit for a good 20 minutes to himself. wasn't your fault though, you were just intensely afraid you would tarnish the dress by putting it on too quickly. okay, and basically gawking at yourself in the mirror for way too long. let a girl live. schlatt opened his eyes and peered them over to the coffee table that had his brand new longiene watch that was sitting in it's neat little box.

"oh, what the hell." he groaned out, leaning over and picking up the small box. smiling to himself as he took it out of the case, draping it around his wrist to snap on. did feel quite nice to have three thousand on his arm, a little ego boost if you will. he twisted it on his wrist, leaning back into the couch with a sigh. "you almost done in there, hon?" he yelled out, spreading his legs out as he fidgeted with the settings on his new watch. you patted down your dress, knowing it was probably best you just escape your little narcissistic moment. for now at least. you took one last look in the mirror, swooshing your hair on your shoulder so you could get one last peak on how nice the backless effect was.

"in there in a sec!" you yelled back from the bathroom, letting go of your hair and smiling to yourself as you opened up the door to walk down the hallway. hoping you were going to get the reaction you were hoping for from him, maybe then the money would seem worth it. he cocked his head to the side as he heard your footsteps, a grin growing on him as he saw the first impressions of the dress. you grazed your hand along your hip as you made your way in front of him. "lil spin for me?" he asked with a smile, leaning back into the couch and crossing his arms. you nodded and twirled yourself around slowly. he licked the roof of his mouth as he watched every movement, deeply stuck almost.

you crossed your hands together behind your back as you stood in front of him, the look on his face alone told you all you needed to know. "it's even backless!" you excitedly state, turning your back towards him to show it off better. "if you don't sit your ass down." schlatt says as he shakes his head, gesturing for you to come over with his finger. you raise an eyebrow and slowly walk over to him, leaning down and letting your palms rest on the leather. purposely not giving him what he wanted right away. looking right into his eyes and titling your head to his just a smidge closer. "i take it you like the dress?" you whisper out, his hands reaching up to your ribs. "do i like the dress, huh?" he mocks back at you with a grin, letting his hands roam around under your breast. his eyes failing him as he looked at how your hips looked poking out.

he leaned his head back and looked up and down at you without shame, almost trying to convey his pleading with his eyes. you leaned your knee onto the leather, cocking your head to the side as you continued to move yourself onto the couch. schlatt's mind reeling as he could see the silk tightening around your hips. "i've already got hypertension, are you trying to make it worse?" he gruffly stated, his hands wandering down right above your hips as he helped you settle on his lap. you roll your eyes as you lean your hands on the edge of the couch, right above his shoulders. "you're so dramatic." you snicker out, adjusting the edges of your dress that were riding up. that little notion not making him the happiest.

his hands went right to your thighs to trail up the fabric, his chest slowly puffing as more and more skin showed. "this is more like it." he muttered, bringing his hands up to your shoulders to toy with the straps as he looked at you. "you don't think?" he added, expecting you to be vocal. he knew exactly what he wanted you to say, which was to admit how needy he was getting you. he could see it by how you gently squirmed under his touch, stroking his ego a little further. you slowly nod and adjust your hips above him, "yes, this is better." you sigh out. which earns him a little chuckle, raising his hand up to cup your chin. "there's the money." he practically seethes out, racing his free hand to your breasts to give them a firm squeeze. it was pretty hard not to.

his hand reaches up so he can gently tug down at the offensive fabric covering you, you arch your back a little to give him a better view. "you trying to say thank you?" he asks, tracing his finger along the silky straps. you softly hum and nudge your shoulders with a smile. "point taken." he adds, pulling down the straps and dropping his hand from your chin to fully engorge his hands to your breasts as the delicate fabric fell onto your stomach. "and no bra? you're just trying to get in trouble." he seethes out, involuntarily bucking his hips up as he looked up into your eyes. watching how the friction was affecting you.

he reaches his hand up to the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss, gently groaning as your lips meet. his other hand still grabbing a selfish amount of your breast into it. you grind in with his hips, making him deeply exhale and drop his hand to your ass to give a sharp slap. you knew exactly what he wanted, and you knew exactly how you were going to do it. he gently pulled back from your lips after a moment, looking up at you. "i'm kinda exhausted from today, baby." he states, letting his hand grip along your ass again. that didn't mean he didn't want to do it, just meant he wanted you to do all the work. perhaps as a thank you.

you softly nod and lean down to your knees, feeling his hands leave you as you felt your knees hit the hard wood. you could see his smile above you as you began fiddling with his belt, his jeans practically making a tent. unbuckling the belt and pulling it off slowly, knowing damn well he wasn't in the mood for anything that slow. it was just fun to be a bit of a tease sometimes. he trailed his hand to the top of your scalp, ruffling your hair gently as he looked down at you. "cmon baby." his voice cooed, you sigh and unbutton his jeans. letting the zipper come undone as you pulled down at them. being met with a rather aggressive hard on from him.

you looked up to him, his fingertips running through your hair as he smiled down at you. then dropping his hand down the side of your face, shaking his head as he ran a thumb along your bottom lip. "so pretty." he whispered, letting his hand drop to your chin as your hands fiddled with his boxers. his anticipation only growing further, but he wasn't satisfied just yet. he fluttered his eyes shut as he felt your mouth wrap around him, his hand shooting right back to your hair to grab a fistful. you paced yourself as you listened to his grunts coming from his stubbornly closed lips. he wanted so badly to just slam your head down, but right now; it felt way too good to mess anything up. he could afford the patience.

he kept his grip on your hair, his mouth gaping open as he looked down to the saliva mess you were creating from your tongue. he wasn't usually the biggest fan of messy sex, but today would just have to be an exception. bucking his hips slightly, causing you to accidentally slam your mouth around his base. even the gagging sound beginning to excite him a little too much. he liked the sound of struggle, knowing it was hard to keep up. he leaned his head into the leather and looked down to see your eyes glaring at him, even the gloss over your eyes made him want to bite back. "keep it up with your mouth and i'll give you what your hips are begging for." he choked out, his stomach twitching from underneath his shirt. he knew was cusping at the edge.

you felt your body warm up at his words, only making you give him a real show with your mouth. his grunts becoming incredibly obvious now, he wanted the real thing. he let you pump him for a few more moments before pulling your hair to unlatch your lips from him. watching as the saliva slowly dripped from your gaping mouth, snickering to himself. "uh-uh, i want you up here baby." he breathily stated, releasing your hair from his fist. he watched as you crawled back onto his lap with a shit eating grin. "hike it up for me." he added on, trailing his hands on your thighs as you curled up the fabric around your hips. he looked down to your underwear and shook his head, "off." he demanded, making you quickly pull of the couch for a moment to toss them off of you. quickly plopping back onto his lap, his eyes zoned on the new sight.

his fingers quickly moved under you to rub along your clit, smiling to himself as it immediately made an effect on you. "you like me spending all that money on you?" he asked, continuing his pace. you shakily nod, only able to respond in needy whimpers. "come on, answer me baby. or i'll have to stop rubbing on you like this." he snickered out, knowing he was going get the exact answer he wanted. "y-yes!" you choke out, bucking your hips with the movement of his fingers. "and you just love paying back, don't you?" he sighs out, looking down to his fingers. your hands grip along the edge of the couch, almost about to fall back. "you just get whatever you want, huh?" he adds on, biting down on his tongue as he fastened his pace along you.

his kept his eyes down, slowly trailing his fingers from your clit to your slit with a grin. "you want this, don't you baby?" he groaned out as he teased the tip of his finger on your slit. you looked at him and leaned forward, almost trying to push it inside yourself. "mm-mm, don't get shy now- if you don't say what you want, i can't give it to you baby. tell me." he seethed out, shaking his head softly at your impatience. "please- give it to me." you whimper out, progressively just getting more and more needy. with that, and a click of his tongue, he shoved one finger inside you. your eyes shutting as it reached fully inside. "already two?" you groan out, earning him a little chuckle. "it's just one for now, baby." your hips immediately pressing down into his legs as he curled his finger. it really was unbelievable just how nice the one felt.

he watched as your head flailed back to his motions, his free hand reaching up your chest. letting his fingers grip along your neck gently, making you fix your head back down. "show me that you want more, baby. i know a sweet- sweet whore like you can." he sneered out, letting his grip tighten along your throat slightly. your noises only growing more desperate as he curled his fingers right where it needed to be, your hips switching along him. he watched how your hips moved with ease, knowing how good it feel right on his dick; but he could be patient. this was more than worth it. "god- you fucking slut." he seethed out, popping another finger in as he smoothed out his pacing. "you deserved another one for that." he added on, pumping his fingers in and out.

you lean down and press your palm into his chest to stabilize yourself, huffing for air as he continued. he snickered to himself as he could see how quickly you were just giving in, bringing his free hand to cup your face as he kept his finger's pacing. "it's a miracle you can take my cock when you act like this with my damn fingers." he muttered, keeping his grip tight on your face. your eyes fluttering open and shut as he kept on, unsure on how much longer he could go with this before you would completely unravel. "got you in the palm of my hand, don't i?" he adds on, swallowing deeply and waiting for you to do anything but whine out. your hips begin to whine on his fingers, making him look down at the mess you were creating with yourself. "fucking yourself back with my fingers? show me how you really feel, hm?" he grunted out, smiling as he noticed how close you were to coming right on him.

slowly nodding with a grin as he noticed the immense relief that washed on your face, feeling your hips slowly come to a stop. he groaned and pulled out his fingers of you, settling both his hands now on your hips as he raised your body up. "my turn, yeah? only fair right?" he seethed out, your body was already so exhausted. you knew it'd be worth it though, adjusting the fabric of the dress before settling yourself on his dick. schlatt's hands gripping tightly into your hips as you pushed all the way down, a bit surprised you did it so quickly. no questions. just how he wanted you. you kept your hand on his chest as you bounced yourself, his eyes transfixed on how your breasts were bouncing with you. a part of him wanting to just completely take over.

he slapped his hand along your back, causing you to fall right where he wanted you. running his fingertips into your back as he latched his lips onto your breast, lapping his tongue the best he could with your rapid bouncing. his eyes closed as he focused on sucking down on you, enjoying every last moment. roaming his hand along your back as he pulled you in close, smashing every inch of your flesh against his face. his other hand giving a sharp slap on your ass as you were reeling him in more and more. choking out a yell, only encouraging you to keep your vigorous pacing on his cock. your arms wrapping along his shoulders as you wailed out, schlatt's body stiffening as he felt your insides tighten around him. unable to control himself, his lips letting go of your breasts. his head falling to the back of the couch, all he could do was look at you and pant. it couldn't be more perfect.

you were so drowned in the pleasure, you didn't even realize how intense you were going. oh but he knew, letting out a low groan as you continued. his eyes failing to keep open, but he needed them open so he could see how good your tits looked while you bounced so desperately. almost like your life depended on it. his hand trailed up your sides, the dress had basically became a hip cover at this point. the only thing you could hear from him was a few 'fucks' and 'shit's underneath his breath, watching him beneath you as he struggled to keep himself together. "god- don't let me stop you now." he groaned out, bucking his hips to meet with yours as your pacing began to lessen. looking up into your eyes as he noticed how tired and shaky your legs were getting.

finally having enough, just wanting to rummage every bit inside of you. grabbing onto your sides and bucking his hips up and down, a pace you couldn't do if you tried. he smiled as he watched your lips fall agape, you really were just letting go. just for him. he'd be lying if he said that's not what he wanted. "come on. let go." he stifles out through his grunts, giving you another rash slap to the ass. "this is exactly what you wanted, hm?" he adds, looking up to you and expecting an immediate answer. he noticed the side of your ass reddening, only exciting him further to do it again. "answer me." he grunts out, practically branding your ass with his palm. you yelp out and grip onto the edge of the couch to not complete fall over, "g-god yes!" you shakily whimper out, huffing in and out.

he flails his head back and continues to mindlessly pump into you, almost choking on his breath as he climaxes. slowing down his pacing as he lets it fill inside, rubbing his hands around the raised up skin on your hip. the heat radiating off his palms. "you wanna show me the other dresses?" he snickers out, trying to catch up with his breaths. running a hand through his hair with a smile, you groan and pull yourself off of him. almost stumbling on your own movements, "if that's what you want." you huff out, watching as he began to pull up his boxers. "what? scared of round two?" he stifles out, sitting up more upright as he watched you fix yourself back up. you roll your eyes with a grin as you pull up the straps of the dress, his grin growing as he's reminded just how good you look.

you peel up the fabric up to cover up your breasts, wincing as you try to move your hips. the silk pairing perfectly with your dampened skin, and he was well aware of how beautiful it looked. "yeah. i'm taking you back to that store soon." he mutters, eyeing you up and down. "you've made it clear it's worth it."

author's note : i think this was the most excited i've gotten off a one shot idea, maybe Ever. perhaps it's because it's based on one of my favorite CAKE song, but none the less @thecourtjester-e is a mastermind and i appreciate the patience and creativity that was helped put into this. so PLEASE check them out !! 💌 their new series is one of my personal favs and i'm sure it will be yours too :,))

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #fanfic #rpf #jschlatt smut

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alohajix · 2 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐢𝐫, 𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚'𝐚𝐦

Description: he’s my bodyguard—tall, strong, and always in control. Until the door closes behind us. Then he kneels. He begs. And he takes everything I give him. He lives to be used, to be praised, to be ruined—just for me. And tonight, I don’t plan on going easy.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, sub!harry x dom!y/n, praise kink, degradation kink, light choking, spitting, orgasm denial, overstimulation, implied face sitting, dirty talk, begging, light bondage & aftercare. Readers +18.

Word count: 5K.

author note: another day, another one shot. this one's also a request I loved writing about. there’s something about sub!harry that always gets me. anyway, i hope this is what you were waiting for babe. and i hope everyone enjoys it 🫶🏻

*****

The car ride back from the gala is quiet, the kind of silence that buzzes with tension—like the sharp edge of a blade pressed against soft skin. Harry sits across from me in the blacked-out SUV, legs wide, hands resting on his thighs, jaw tight. His hair is still tied back the way I asked—half-up, loose tendrils curling at the base of his throat.

He hasn’t looked at me since we left the event. Not really. Not the way he had all night. But I’ve seen the way he watches. The way he moves closer when other men get too near. The way he presses his hand into the small of my back just a second longer than necessary. Always the professional. Always in control. Except when we’re alone. He adjusts his cuffs. I cross my legs, dragging the hem of my red silk dress up a little higher.

“Something wrong?” I ask, tone syrupy sweet.

His eyes flick up to meet mine in the dark. Stormy green. Hungry.

“No, ma’am,” he says lowly. A pause. Then I smile.

“Good.”

The elevator ride to the penthouse is painfully slow. I don’t speak. Neither does he. He walks behind me like a shadow, one step off my heel, every movement perfectly measured. But I hear the shift in his breathing. I feel the heat pulsing off him. I know what he’s thinking. And when the suite door finally closes behind us with a soft click, I drop the keys on the entry table and turn around slowly. He’s standing there like he always does—shoulders squared, arms behind his back, eyes trained on my face. That unreadable expression he wears for everyone but me.

“Take off your jacket,” I say softly.

He obeys immediately, sliding the black fabric off his shoulders, folding it without a word. But when he looks back at me, the tightness in his jaw has returned. I raise an eyebrow.

“Is there something you’d like to say, Harry?”

He swallows. His voice is quiet. “You looked… distracting tonight, ma’am.”

“Distracting?”

His gaze flicks down to my legs, then back up. “Yes, ma’am.”

I take a slow step toward him. Then another. Until we’re chest to chest and I can smell the faint mix of cologne and leather lingering on his shirt.

“You kept staring,” I whisper.

“I didn’t mean to.”

I hum, fingers reaching up to unfasten the top button of his shirt. “You never do. That’s the problem.”

His breath catches as I undo the second button. His hands stay behind his back. He knows better.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you looked at me all night? Like you were ready to drop to your knees in the middle of that ballroom?”

His eyes flicker with something dark and desperate. “I would’ve. If you’d asked.”

My hand slides over his chest, down his stomach, to the belt around his waist.

“I’m asking now,” I say quietly. “Kneel.” And he does. Instantly. Like he’s been waiting all night.

He kneels like it’s second nature—spine straight, knees apart, hands resting on his thighs. But it’s the way he looks up at me that makes my breath catch. That quiet devotion in his eyes. That subtle, barely-there tremble in his jaw. I love him like this—brought to his knees by nothing but my voice.

I move slowly, circling him. The heels of my stilettos click softly on the hardwood as I drag a single finger across his shoulder, letting my touch trail over the back of his neck and down his spine. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t shift. But his breathing changes—sharper, shallower.

“Take your shirt off.”

He doesn’t hesitate. Fingers move fast, unbuttoning what I didn’t finish, sliding the fabric off until it pools around his knees. His bare chest rises and falls with each breath, tattoos dancing over his skin in the low light.

“Now your belt. Just the belt.”

He fumbles slightly this time—only for a second—but I notice. I always do. The soft clink of metal fills the room as he unfastens it, hands falling back to his thighs once the task is done.

“You nervous?” I murmur, running my fingers over his shoulder again, nails just barely scratching his skin.

“A little,” he admits, voice rough and low. I stop in front of him, looking down.

“Why?”

He blinks. “Because I know what I need, and I know you’ll give it to me.”

A sharp pulse runs through me. God, he says things like that and doesn’t even realize what it does to me. Or maybe he does.

“Say it.”

He swallows. “I need you to take control.”

My hand tilts his chin up until he’s forced to look me in the eyes.

“And if I decide to ruin you tonight?”

His eyes flutter closed for a beat. When they reopen, they’re darker. Hungrier.

“Then ruin me, ma’am.” I smile.

“Take your pants off. Leave the briefs.”

He moves quickly this time, standing just long enough to slide them down his thighs before kneeling again. He looks so good like this—broad chest bare, collarbones sharp under the skin, thighs spread wide. And between them, the outline of his cock straining against his tight briefs. I run a hand over the bulge, watching him twitch.

“You’re hard already?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“For what?”

“You.”

“Always for me,” I whisper, applying just enough pressure to make his hips jump. “Never for anyone else.”

“Never,” he swears.

I tug on his hair. Just a little. Just enough to tilt his head back.

“Good boy.” He exhales shakily, lips parted, eyes glassy. “You want to touch me, don’t you?”

His voice cracks. “So bad, ma’am.”

“But you won’t, will you?”

“No, ma’am.”

I step closer until the toe of my heel is nudging the inside of his thigh. His breath hitches. His eyes never leave mine.

“Take my dress off.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second, then brings his hands to my waist, carefully sliding the zipper down. The silk falls to the floor in one smooth motion, and his breath catches when he sees what’s underneath—black lace, nothing else.

“Look at you,” he murmurs before he can stop himself.

I arch a brow. “That sounded a lot like talking out of turn.”

His lips part. “I—I’m sorry—”

“No. Don’t apologize. Open your mouth.” His eyes widen slightly, but he obeys. I lean down just enough to spit past his lips, watching it drip onto his tongue. “Swallow it.”

He does. Without a sound. Then licks his lips like he’s proud of it. I hum approvingly.

“On the bed,” I command. “Flat on your back. Hands above your head. Don’t move unless I tell you.”

He scrambles to his feet and climbs onto the bed without question, cock now straining against his briefs, chest heaving, pupils blown wide. This is my favorite version of him—obedient, desperate, silent unless spoken to. He looks wrecked already—and I haven’t even touched him properly. Flat on his back, arms stretched above his head, long curls fanned out across my pillows like he was made to ruin them. His chest rises and falls fast, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t dare. Not until I give him permission.

I take my time climbing onto the bed, crawling up over him with my palms pressed to the mattress on either side of his ribs. He watches me like I’m divine. Sacred. Untouchable. I lower myself down until my lips hover just above his.

“You want to come?” I ask, voice sweet like honey, laced with venom.

His throat bobs. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You think I’ll let you?”

He exhales shakily. “No, ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

He moans—just from the praise. Just from the sound of my voice. I shift lower, straddling his hips and grinding down against the outline of his cock through the thin fabric. He gasps, bucking up instinctively, and I press one hand flat to his chest, the other wrapping lightly around his throat.

“Ah, ah. Don’t move.”

“Sorry—fuck—sorry.”

“You really are desperate, huh?”

His eyes flutter closed like he can’t take being seen like this. But I want him vulnerable. I want him trembling under my control. I roll my hips again, slow and steady, until I feel the twitch of his cock and hear the quiet whimper he tries to swallow. I lean in, lips brushing his ear.

“You gonna beg for it, baby?”

“Please,” he breathes. “Please let me feel you. I’ve been good, I—fuck—I need it so bad, ma’am.”

I hum, pleased. “You’re not even inside me yet, and you’re already falling apart. How pathetic.”

He lets out a broken little sound, equal parts pain and arousal. I sit up and slide my panties to the side, pulling his briefs down just enough to free him. He’s rock hard, flushed and leaking, the head glistening in the low light.

“You wanna come inside me, sweet boy?”

He nods eagerly. “Yes, ma’am. Please—please, I’ll do anything—”

I cut him off by sinking down onto his cock in one slow, controlled movement. He cries out, hands gripping the headboard like he might float away if he doesn’t anchor himself.

“Shhh,” I whisper, curling my fingers tighter around his throat. “You take what I give you. Nothing more.”

He nods again, nearly frantic. “Yes, ma’am—fuck—it feels so good—”

I ride him slow, grinding my hips with purpose, watching his mouth fall open, eyes glassy and wet.

“Look at you,” I murmur, dragging my nails down his chest. “So big, so strong… and still you let me use you like this. Let me fuck you till you cry.”

His head falls back against the pillow. “M’close—please—I can’t—”

I clench around him and still my hips.

“Don’t you dare.” He whines, hips twitching, trying to hold still. His entire body’s shaking now. “I said you don’t come unless I tell you to. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am—yes—fuck—I’m sorry—”

“You’ll be sorrier if you keep testing me.”

I roll my hips once—deep, slow, enough to make him shudder—and his breath catches.

“You’re gonna hold it,” I tell him. “You’re gonna lie there and take every second of what I give you. You’re gonna thank me for using you like the filthy little plaything you are. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he gasps. “Thank you—thank you, I—”

But his words break off into a cry as I start to move again, harder now, rhythm building with purpose. His fists are white-knuckled on the headboard. His thighs twitch under mine. He’s panting, desperate, so close he’s practically vibrating. I lean down again, teeth grazing his jaw, breath hot in his ear.

“You wanna come?”

“Yes—please—I can’t—I need to—”

“Beg.”

“Please, ma’am—please let me—been so good—need to feel it, need you to—”

“Now,” I whisper, clenching around him.

He sobs as he comes, back arching off the bed, hands flying to my hips without thinking. Thick and hot, he spills inside me with a broken moan of “Thank you—fuck—thank you, ma’am—”

And I don’t stop. Not yet. He’s trembling. His chest is heaving, slick with sweat, and his hands are still gripping my hips like he doesn’t know how to let go. His eyes are wide and unfocused, mouth parted as if he wants to speak but can’t form the words.

I keep grinding down onto him, slow and deep, making sure he feels every aftershock. Every throb. Every second of overstimulation that drags little gasps and broken moans from his throat.

“Please,” he breathes, voice barely audible. “I can’t… it’s too much—”

“You’ll take it,” I whisper, cupping his jaw. “You’ll take it because that’s what you’re made for.”

He nods, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Not pain—never pain. Just complete surrender. Pure submission.

“I’m yours,” he whispers, like a prayer. “Always.”

I slow down then, easing off him gently, watching him twitch beneath me, his entire body shaking from the release. I can feel the mess between us—his cock softening, his cum leaking out of me, soaking his thighs. He looks so good like this. Fucked out. Devoted. Mine.

I climb off of him and stroke his chest softly, dragging my fingers down the center, tracing every inch of inked skin like it belongs to me. Because it does.

“You did so well for me,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to his damp forehead. “Such a good boy.” He whimpers at the praise, tilting his face toward me, eyes heavy, lips still parted. “Let’s clean you up, yeah?”

He nods, and I guide him into the en suite bathroom. He leans on me, muscles loose and shaky. I sit him on the edge of the tub and run warm water over a cloth, wiping his chest first, then the mess between his legs. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Just watches me with soft, glassy eyes like he still can’t believe I’m touching him. When I’m done, I kiss the inside of his knee, his hip, the center of his chest—small, slow kisses meant only for him.

We crawl back into bed together, and he buries his face in my neck, curling his arms around me like I’m the only solid thing left in the world.

“You okay?” I ask softly, running my fingers through his hair, loosening the tie so it spills down over his shoulders.

“Mmhmm.” He’s nearly asleep already. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For… everything.”

I smile into his curls. “My sweet boy.”

A beat passes. Then, in the quietest voice, he whispers—

“Yours.” And I believe him. Because he always is.

*****

hope you love this one babes 🫶🏻

@cloudyluun @gem1712 @dipmeinhoneyh @idk199o @harrrrystylesslut @sparxx27 @likea-silhouette @fangirl509east @mads3502 @run-for-the-hills @twinklaei @belgianblondee

#harry styles #harry styles smut #x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #masterlist #harry #harry styles request #sub!harry

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aurorawritestoescape · 4 months ago

Text

GIVE ME HELL

Stepdad Joel Miller x f!reader || 1,9 k

part 4 of A Step Into Hell || can be read alone

Summary: you come home drunk and Joel isn’t happy. He decides to teach you a lesson.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, Joel's POV, dub con (alcohol intoxication) but reader's very into it, big legal age gap, dark!Joel, mean!Joel, possessive!joel, jealous!Joel, pussy/cock pronouns, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, degradation, slut shaming, a lil bit of praise kink, daddy kink, spanking (1), cum eating, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of unplanned pregnancy, swearing. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions but wears a skirt.

A/n: huge thank you to 🎯 anon for the hottest thots😘 I used the schoolgirl skirt idea in this story, it suited the plot perfectly! Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and for loving the mf💋I hope you all will enjoy this part! Love you!💞

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Here you were. Miss ‘I need daddy’s cock to sleep’ came back from a party, looking like a whore. Who was surprised? Not Joel. A tight top was showcasing your gorgeous tits perfectly, a schoolgirl skirt was so short it was barely covering your ass. But what grabbed Joel’s attention immediately was your slightly smudged make up and your glossy eyes. Even in the dim light of the tv illuminating the dark living room Joel could see that you were drunk.

Probably trying not to sway, you purposefully leaned against the doorframe to say hi to your mother, your voice slightly higher than usual.

Joel wasn’t fooled by your act. A mix of rage and arousal set his body and mind on fire.

Drunk slut! Probably dragged your ass home after being groped and rubbed against all night. What if some horny frat boy fucked you?

Joel’s blood started boiling and your mother’s nonchalant attitude to the sight of you made him clench his fists even harder.

You needed to be punished. What wouldn’t he give to bend the whore over his lap and spank your juicy ass and slutty pussy. Fuck! His wife was next to him on the couch.

“How was the party?” she asked you with a smile.

“ ‘s ok. Going to bed. Good night.”

And you turned around and went upstairs. No! Not gonna happen. You weren’t getting out of it so easily.

Joel turned to his wife with his brows furrowed, having put a mask of virtuous concern on his face and hiding his semi with a throw blanket.

“Aren’t you gonna talk to her?”

”What about?”

“Her state? You ok with it?”

Your mother gave him a shrug.

“Yeah, she’s a little drunk but .. she’s been at a party. And she’s old enough to decide for herself whether to drink or not.”

Joel clenched his jaws but then took a deep breath, calming his nerves, and returned his eyes to the tv. Then he mumbled matter-of-factly, feigning his interest in the show,

“Hope ya ready to become a grandma then.”

He saw his wife fidget on the couch. Yeah, now someone was concerned!

“Why? What do you mean?”

“I mean that if you let her behave like that, then wait for her to get knocked up by some blogger or any other unemployed fucker. No college, no career. Doubt your ex’s gonna be happy that she ruined her future right under your nose.”

Joel glanced at his wife and shrugged like she’d done earlier. The naive bitch looked really worried.

Daddy Joel to the rescue!

“Honey, don’t panic. I’ll handle it. Let me talk to her. As a father figure.”

“Really? You’ll do that?” his wife asked with hope in her voice. Joel took her hand and looked into her eyes.

“Of course. I care about her. Very much.”

He wasn’t lying. You were his perfect fucktoy and he took care of the things that belonged to him.

“Don’t be too harsh on her,” his wife said as Joel got up and quickly adjusted his perked up cock.

“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

Of course that was a lie. When Joel came up to your bedroom, he unceremoniously stormed in and locked the door behind him.

You were standing at your desk, smiling at your phone, probably sending out 1000000 slutty selfies from the party all over the internet.

“Hey! You can’t just barge in like that?” you exclaimed, pouting your pretty lips.

Joel placed his hands on his hips and grumbled with a glare,

“Wrong! It’s my house and I can do whatever the fuck I want. You on the other hand —,” he pointed his thick index finger in your direction and barked, ”— can’t!”

“What?” You seemed confused and tired but all Joel cared about at that moment were his heavy balls and stiffening cock, locked and loaded to ruin his stepdaughter’s hole.

” ’m here to have a talk with you.”

You giggled, “What talk? The birds and the bees?”

“Somethin like that,” Joel grunted, taking a step to you, and then pushed you to your desk.

“Joel!” you half whispered, half exclaimed, trying to stop him with your little palms on his chest, but Hurricane Joel couldn’t be stopped. He roughly grabbed your hips and made you sit on the edge of the desk.

“No… Mom’s downstairs…,” you mumbled softly, already melting when he settled between your spread thighs.

”Then be quiet. You can cry a lil. She’ll think you’re really sorry,” Joel sneered, looking down at you. His chest swelled with pride and dominance - he was big and strong and you were just a silly girl, who foolishly thought that she could do whatever she wanted. Hell no!

“Ya think you can come to my house drunk? Lookin like a whore who’s been passed around?”

You averted your eyes in shame, murmuring,

“Mm.. no. Jus’ had a few beers.”

“Did ya have a few cocks too?”

You shook your head before Joel grabbed your chin with two fingers and tilted your face up to look into your dopey eyes.

”You let anyone use you? Which hole? Bet your sexy schoolgirl skirt is soaked with cum.”

“No-no, daddy, I didn’t…”

He slowly glided his palms down over the fabric covering your hips and then pulled your skirt up, exposing your bare cunt.

A deep growl rose from Joel’s chest before he gruffed, his voice ringing with rage,

“Ya went to the fucking party with your cunt out in the open like that? Ready to serve any cock close enough to her?”

Joel's nostrils were flaring, his fists were clenching your skirt, as he was glaring down at you. He must have looked really scary because you widened your eyes and grabbed his thick forearms.

“Oh no-no-no, Joel! I took ’em off just before stepping inside. Like you told me, remember? No panties in the house.”

His dark eyes were darting between yours, searching for any sign of deceit.

“Hope you ain’t lyin to me,” he grunted, burning you with his fiery gaze.

“I swear, daddy.”

That ‘daddy’ really helped your case. Joel got more horny than mad and looked down at your pussy. Without a word he pushed a finger into your hole and you gasped.

“Did ya wet yourself? Or just that needy?” he asked, keeping the finger inside your sopping cunt. ”Who’s all this slick for? Someone at the party caught your eye?”

“No, I… I kept thinking about you, daddy.”

Joel smirked, “Yeah? What were you thinkin?”

“You… you doing things to me.”

“Hnggg,” Joel pulled his finger out of your hole and licked his skin clean with a lopsided grin on his glistening lips.

“You got horny-drunk, yeah, babydoll? Could’ve called daddy. I woulda come down there, dragged you to the bathroom and pumped ya little cunt full.”

“Really?” you asked with a drunk smile, your heart eyes set on Joel’s face.

“Course not, dumb slut. I ain’t drivin god knows where on a Friday night to fuck you. Especially when I know that the pussy is gonna come to me.”

You scrunched your nose and pouted.

“You’re so mean.”

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings!” Joel barked a laugh and roughly grabbed your pussy, making you moan. Then he leaned down to your face, so close your lips were almost touching, and you reached up to him, initiating a kiss, but Joel pulled away and instead squeezed your cheeks with his hand.

“I ain’t kissin your beer hole. And here’s the talk I promised you.”

You pushed his hand away and glared up at him. Your stepdad grabbed the back of your neck with one hand, your pussy with the other and continued,

”Ya got drunk. And drunk girls are always in danger of bein used. I reckon you better learn this lesson at home than at a party full of strangers, uh, sweetie?”

He shook his hand full of your cunt and you whimpered a needy “yeah”.

Then Joel pulled you off the desk and roughly spun you around. You squeaked but didn’t protest. Manhandling you was always easy, like dealing with a rag doll, especially now when you were drunk.

“We don’t have much time so let’s start,” he spit and pushed you down on the desk. In a second your hands were clasped by his hand behind your back, his huge cock bulge pressed to your naked ass, your holes ready for him to use.

“Daddy, fuck me,” you whined needily, wiggling your naked ass, brushing it against his hard-on.

Joel titled his head and grinned. The bitch was really desperate. You’d always been a slut for his dick but the alcohol seemed to have made you extra horny.

“You don’t deserve my cock today, slut, but all this slick can't go to waste”.

Joel let go of your wrists, tugged his sweatpants down and freed his leaking stallion. Then he roughly stabbed you with his length and shoved it to the hilt in one go. You took him easily, your pussy dripping with need for his giant schlong, and moaned into your palm, already fluttering around him. Suddenly, Joel froze.

“Wanna come on daddy’s cock?”

“Yeahhhh.”

“Yeah? Then work for it, baby,” he ordered through gritted teeth, keeping himself from bursting inside you — your cunt felt fucking fantastic as always.

“Daddyyyy…”

Your whine only made Joel laugh. He slapped your asscheek, and growled,

“Move! If your pussy wants the fireworks, ya better ride my horse cock. I ain’t doin shit for you tonight.”

He stood still with his hands holding your hips, his throbbing cock deep to the base inside you, while watching you squirm and almost cry with frustration. You begged him again but Joel didn’t move an inch while all his inches were being soaked by your crying pussy.

Probably having realized that he was serious, clumsily and slowly, on trembling legs, you started moving your body back and forth, exposing Joel’s shaft to his eyes and then swallowing it back with the greedy mouth of your cunt.

“Yeah, sweetie. You doin it, look at ya. Take what you need. Milk him dry, babydoll.”

Joel’s praise seemed to entice you, to inject some energy into your body, and you started fucking yourself with his cock faster and harder. Slapping noises filled the room as your ass was banging against Joel rougher and rougher. Your stepdad dug his fingers into your soft hips, watching you pleasure yourself with his hard cock.

“She’s so thirsty— wants to get drunk on daddy’s hot sperm, uh? — ’ll make her swallow it all to the drop.”

Panting heavily, Joel sounded intoxicated himself while talking about your wet cunt, seeing her rhythmically sucking in his fat length and spitting it out.

“Yeah, daddy. Please.”

“Good girl—,” Joel croaked and began emptying his balls inside you, pouring all his rage and jealousy into your pulsating cunt.

You came right after, almost crying on his exploding cock, pushing your face into your palms to muffle your ecstatic moans.

When Joel filled you full of his cum, he pulled out and stood over you splayed on the desk like a used fuckdoll. He was catching his breath, watching your winking hole drip his creamy jizz, then wiped his cock with your skirt and helped you up.

”If I see you drunk again in my house, I won’t let you come for a month, ya hear me?” Joel roared and you hastily nodded. Then his lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“I’m glad we had this talk.”

He looked you up and down again, shook his head and left the room.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!<3

SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40

People who were interested in pt 4, no pressure to read bbs: @sunshineispunk @bonezone44 @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @tateypots

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reveriebae · 2 months ago

Text

First Time, Filthy Mind?

pairing(s) : Yeosang x reader

word count : 2470

summary : You were a virgin—technically. But innocent? Not even close. Bold, filthy-minded, and aching to be destroyed, you handpicked Yeosang to do it. And he did. In an empty classroom, on a desk, against a chalkboard—he gave you exactly what you begged for: pain, blood, pleasure, and ownership. But when it’s over and he’s the one left breathless and wrecked? You walk away with a smirk, stockings torn, and your power untouched. Because he ruined your body…

But you ruined him for good.

genre : smut

warning(s) : Loss of virginity, Blood mention (virginity loss), Pain kink / slight masochism, Size kink, Overstimulation, Rough sex, Semi-public setting (empty classroom), Light dom/sub dynamics, Creampie, Dirty talk (degrading & praising mix), Spanking, Face against the chalkboard, Power play / reader in control emotionally, No aftercare. Let me know if I missed anything!

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐smut under the cut🪐

You sat on the edge of the teacher’s desk, legs crossed, skirt riding up just enough to show a hint of the thin black stockings hugging your thighs. The classroom was quiet—too quiet. Empty except for you… and Yeosang.

He stood by the door, that calm, unreadable expression on his face, the kind that made your thighs press together every time he looked at you. And right now? He was staring.

You smirked.

“Lock the door,” you said, voice soft but soaked in heat.

He didn’t question it. Just turned, clicked it shut, and leaned back against the frame like he wasn’t just as curious as he was aroused.

Your fingers slid slowly down your thigh, eyes locked on his. “You know I’ve never let anyone touch me, right?”

Yeosang’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t move. He just nodded once, gaze dipping down your legs and up again.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.” You uncrossed your legs, letting them spread just enough to give him a peek at the little satin scrap you had on underneath. “I think about it all the time. What it would feel like to be fucked. Not made love to… not kissed softly and coddled.”

You bit your lip, feigning innocence, even as your fingers curled into the top of the stocking on your left leg.

“I want it to hurt. I want to cry. I want you to ruin me.”

That got him. His head tilted slightly, lips parting.

“I want you to be the first,” you whispered, “because I know you’ll be the one who does it right.”

And before he could say a word, you dragged your nails down the stocking, slicing a perfect rip into the fabric right over your inner thigh. Then you slid your fingers into it and tore it wider, the sound crackling in the silence like a match being struck.

His hands twitched.

“Come get it,” you breathed, spreading your thighs for him, “before I change my mind.”

Yeosang crossed the room in two silent steps.

When he reached you, he didn’t touch—not yet. He just stared down at the mess you’d made of your stockings, the way your panties were already damp, the desperate, defiant gleam in your eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice low, deep, unreadable.

You nodded, then grabbed his hand and pressed it between your legs.

“Make it count, Yeosang.”

He didn’t hesitate again.

Yeosang gripped your thighs, fingers curling hard enough to leave prints as he slowly eased you back onto the desk. The wood felt cold under your spine, a stark contrast to the heat pooling in your belly. He pushed your skirt higher, eyes trailing down to the slick between your thighs, the torn stocking barely hanging onto your leg.

“You’re soaked,” he muttered, voice ragged, almost like he was scolding himself. “And you’re sure?”

You nodded, breath shallow. “I told you, I want this.”

He hesitated just a second longer, eyes locked with yours, then finally slid your panties to the side. The cool air hit your soaked folds, and you flinched slightly—but stayed wide open for him.

“Fuck,” he growled, letting his thumb slide between your folds, spreading you slowly. “You’re so tight.”

You whimpered as the pad of his finger barely dipped inside, stretching your entrance just enough to make your body jolt. Your thighs quivered, but you didn’t stop him. Instead, you stared at his cock—already hard, thick, veiny, leaking at the tip—and licked your lips.

“Don’t tease me,” you whispered, voice shaking with need. “Just… give it to me.”

He shook his head, jaw clenched. “It’s gonna fucking hurt.”

“That’s what I want.”

That did something to him. He stared at you for one long beat, then pushed his sweats down just enough to free himself. His cock slapped against his abs, thick and flushed, and you felt your whole body tense just looking at it.

“Last chance,” he warned, lining himself up.

You reached down with both hands, spreading yourself open for him. “Do it, Yeosang. Break me.”

He hissed a breath through his teeth—and pushed in.

The stretch was instant and brutal. Your back arched off the desk as your walls clenched hard around him, pain blooming sharp and hot between your hips. You cried out, hands flying to the edge of the desk to brace yourself. He barely got halfway in.

“Fuck,” he grunted, voice tight with restraint. “You’re choking me, baby. You’re so—fuck—you’re bleeding.”

You could feel it. The faint, warm trickle. But more than that, you felt full, overwhelmed, burning—and somehow, you loved it.

“It’s fine,” you gasped, tears beading in your eyes. “It’s supposed to hurt.”

His brows drew together in concern. “This is your first time, shit will be so—”

“I don’t care,” you cut him off, voice shaking as you stared up at him with blown-out pupils. “I want to remember it. I want to feel it tomorrow. Don’t stop—don’t fucking hold back.”

His restraint snapped.

He gripped your hips, slammed all the way in, and you screamed—a raw, messy sound that filled the empty classroom.

Pain exploded through you, eyes rolling, but your cunt clenched even tighter around him.

“Fuck, baby, you’re bleeding all over my cock,” he groaned, voice shaky with pleasure. “You’re crying—and you’re still this tight.”

You were shaking, tears sliding down your temples—but you moaned through the burn, hips twitching with every thrust as he started to move, slow and deep.

Each inch of him dragged against your virgin walls, raw and swollen, making your pussy pulse in overstimulated waves. You couldn’t stop the little sobs from spilling out, but you still begged.

“More… please, give me more.”

He growled, pushed your knees to your chest, and started fucking you rough—nasty slaps echoing off the walls, your slick mixing with blood, making the thrusts messy, raw, and perfect.

Yeosang’s hips snapped against yours, the wet smack of skin on skin bouncing off the empty classroom walls. You were a mess—tears running down your cheeks, mouth open in a shaky moan, legs trembling in his grip. Every time he sank in, the stretch made you twitch, and your pussy clenched tighter like it didn’t know whether to run or keep him there forever.

“You’re crying so pretty,” he rasped, breathing heavy, watching your face twist with every deep thrust. “Hurts that bad, doesn’t it?”

You choked on a moan, nodding, thighs trembling violently now.

“Y-Yeah...” your voice cracked, barely a whisper. “Hurts so fucking much, Yeosang…”

His hips slowed just a second, like maybe he’d stop, but you reached down, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and pulled him lower over your body.

“Don’t you dare.” Your lips brushed his ear, trembling and filthy. “If you stop now, I’ll make you start over.”

He groaned into your neck, rutting deeper, harder, his cock dragging against every sore, tender part of your walls. You could feel the blood and slick making it easier to take, even while the pain lingered sharp behind every thrust.

“You’re fucking insane,” he growled. “I’m ruining you and you’re begging for it.”

You nodded, moaning louder. “I wanted to be ruined.”

Your clit throbbed, untouched but pulsing just from the sheer filth of it all—the pain, the stretch, the slick trickling down your thighs, and the way Yeosang gritted his teeth like he was holding himself back from going wilder.

He shifted slightly, one hand grabbing under your thigh and hoisting your leg higher up his shoulder. The new angle hit something that had your eyes rolling back instantly.

“Right there—” you gasped, hands scrambling at the desk as your body jolted from the overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure.

“Yeah?” he panted, slamming into you again, harder this time. “That the spot, baby? Right where it hurts just enough to make you shake?”

You whimpered, nails clawing at the wood, back arching off the desk. “Yes—fuck, yes!”

The tears were falling faster now, mixing with drool at the corner of your lips, but your legs wrapped tighter around him like you’d never let him go.

His pace became punishing.

No rhythm. Just raw, brutal thrusts, like he was chasing a high and dragging you with him. You could hear every wet, obscene sound between your bodies—the mix of slick and blood, your gasping breaths, his low grunts.

Then his thumb found your clit.

You screamed.

It was too much. Way too much. But you didn’t stop him.

He rubbed slow, messy circles while still thrusting hard, deep, like he wanted to mark your womb. Your pussy pulsed around him, raw and overstretched, and then it snapped.

You came.

Harder than you ever imagined you could. Your body locked up, a sob ripping from your throat as your cunt milked him through the pain. You were shaking, sobbing, soaking everything under you.

Yeosang cursed loud, buried deep, and then his cock throbbed—spilling hot inside your spasming walls.

His hips twitched through it, holding you tight while his cum filled you, mixing with blood and your release. You could feel it dripping back out before he even pulled out.

And when he did… you whimpered.

Eyes glassy. Body limp. Thighs still trembling.

He leaned over you, brushing your sweaty hair back.

“You’re insane,” he whispered again, but his voice was softer now, almost shaky. “That was your first time… and you let me fuck you like that?”

You smiled, eyes fluttering open just enough to meet his.

“I didn’t let you,” you breathed. “I made you.”

Yeosang hadn’t even tucked himself back in before he was pulling you off the desk, strong hands gripping your waist as your weak legs barely held up. Your inner thighs were a mess—slick, cum, blood—and it dripped down the insides of your stockings with every shaky step.

“Thought you were done?” you teased weakly, voice hoarse but still laced with heat.

He let out a low laugh, leaning in to lick a drop of sweat off your cheek. “You don’t get to talk shit when you came crying on my cock.”

You were about to throw something back—smart-mouthed like always—but then he grabbed your hips, spun you around, and shoved you hard against the chalkboard.

The cold surface made you gasp.

It creaked behind you, your palms spreading on the dusty board as your cheek pressed against it. Yeosang kicked your feet apart with his own, dragging his fingers down the curve of your spine to the swell of your ass.

“You wanted to be ruined?” he growled behind you, lining himself back up. “Then don’t you fucking run.”

You moaned, arching your back.

“I won’t.”

He shoved in without warning.

You screamed.

Your body jolted forward, cheek scraping the board, and your walls spasmed around him instantly. You were so raw, too sensitive, but it didn’t stop the way your cunt greedily clenched him like it still wasn’t done.

“Still so fucking tight,” he hissed, pounding into you. “Even after I fucked you bloody.”

The chalkboard squeaked with every thrust, your body slamming forward, tits bouncing under your top. His hands gripped your waist so hard you’d bruise. He yanked you back into every stroke like he was claiming you.

Pain flared again, raw from your first time, but it only made it hotter.

You whined, pushing your ass back against him. “Harder, Yeosang—fuck, please!”

He grabbed your hair, yanked your head back, and hissed into your ear, “You like this? Being used like a filthy little toy?”

You nodded, tears threatening again.

“I’m nothing but your toy—fuck me like one.”

He growled and bent you lower, shoving your chest down so your ass arched up higher. His hand slid down and spanked you—hard—making you cry out, your cunt pulsing around him even tighter.

“That’s what you are,” he grunted. “A dirty fucking virgin who begged me to take it rough and now can’t get enough.”

You were a babbling mess, face smeared with sweat and chalk, the board behind you now streaked with cloudy white dust and the drag of your hands. The classroom reeked of sex—filthy, raw, forbidden.

Then his hand slid between your thighs again—this time, rougher, messier—and he found your clit with practiced fingers.

“You gonna cum again?” he growled. “On this cock that tore you open?”

You whimpered, body already locking up.

“Yes—yes, Yeosang, please—”

“Fucking do it.”

You came hard, cunt clenching with a fresh wave of slick as your moans echoed off the walls. He didn’t stop—not until you were twitching, your knees threatening to give, and then he grunted, pulled your hips back, and spilled deep inside you for the second time.

The warmth of it made your body tremble. You could feel the mix of both loads leaking out, sliding down your thighs. The classroom was silent except for your panting.

Yeosang leaned over you, breath hot on your neck.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered.

And all you did was smile.

Because you were. At least until the next time you decided to fuck him again.

Yeosang’s weight pressed against your back as he caught his breath, arms caging you in against the chalkboard. Your knees were jelly, stockings ruined, and your thighs still shook from the overstimulation. But the look on your face?

Pure satisfaction.

He finally pulled out, watching with dark eyes as his cum mixed with blood and your slick dripped in messy trails down your legs. He should’ve been guilty—should’ve been gentle—but the way you looked over your shoulder at him, half-lidded and wrecked, only made him throb again.

You slowly turned around, fingers tugging your skirt down even as you leaned against the chalk tray like it was your personal throne.

“Was it worth it?” you asked, licking your bottom lip. “Fucking the virgin who begged for it?”

He stared, quiet for a beat too long.

“I’ll never stop thinking about this,” he murmured.

You grinned. “You should.”

Grabbing your bag, you stood on shaky legs and strutted toward the door—stockings torn, thighs glistening, but that walk? Unbothered. Confident. Owned nothing and no one.

Just before leaving, you turned your head slightly.

“You were a good fuck, Yeosang,” you said softly. “But next time… you better come with more than just charm.”

Then you were gone.

Leaving him staring, speechless in a classroom reeking of sex and dusted with chalk. And he knew…

You’d ruined him more than he ruined you.

#ateez #ateez fic #ateez smut #smut #yeosang fanfic #yeosang imagines #yeosang smut #kang yeosang #yeosang #yeosang ateez #yeosang scenarios #yeosang x reader

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xochiackiller · 15 days ago

Text

Red Line | Bakugo Katsuki

pairing: Bakugo x Fem!Reader summary: When you're forced to share a room with Bakugo during a high-stakes mission, it becomes a standoff—who will break first? What he doesn't tell you is that he's been fantasizing about this moment for far too long. And he plays dirty. (Minors Do Not Interact) tags: forced proximity, slow burn tension, "who breaks first," dom!Bakugo, soft domination, edging, overstimulation, praise/degradation mix, sick fantasies, unspoken mutual pining, soft aftercare word count: 2,138

The room was smaller than you'd hoped. One bed. No couch. Not even a sad little cot. Just one queen-sized mattress shoved up against the wall of a too-cold hotel room on the outskirts of a city still trembling from villain activity.

And Bakugo Katsuki.

You exhaled through your nose. "Guess we’re roommates."

He dropped his duffel onto the floor with a thud, eyes sweeping the room. "Tch. Fuckin' budget missions."

You didn’t respond. Not because you didn’t have a smart remark, but because you knew what this was going to turn into. It always did with him. Ever since the start of your pro hero careers, your dynamic had been like flint and steel—every interaction sparking into something hot and frustrating. Every mission ended with you both too close, too tense, too aware.

But this—sharing a room, sharing a bed—this was a different battlefield.

You pulled your hoodie over your head and folded it at the edge of the bed. "You take the floor."

He scoffed. "Like hell I am."

Your eyes narrowed. "I’m not sleeping next to you."

"Didn’t ask you to sleep next with me. Just next to me. There’s a fuckin’ difference."

The tension settled like fog. Neither of you moved. You could feel him watching you out of the corner of his eye as he rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and tugged his shirt off.

That was the first problem.

He looked too good. He always had. But lately—especially lately—he’d started bleeding into your thoughts more than he should. During missions, training, even your dreams. And now here he was, shirtless and unapologetically carved from hellfire, like temptation in human form.

"You good?" he muttered, noticing your pause.

You blinked. "Fine."

His smirk was barely-there, but you saw it. He knew.

He knew.

The game began in silence. Neither of you acknowledged it out loud, but it was there: Who would break first?

He didn’t sleep with a shirt. You didn’t turn the lights off. He changed in front of you. You dragged your fingers slowly through your damp hair after the shower, letting water trail down your chest.

He laid on the bed with one arm behind his head, not touching you but close enough. Your shoulder nearly grazed his. You refused to flinch.

But the worst part? The heat under the surface. You felt him watching you—his gaze dragging down your spine like a hand.

Outside the window, wind rustled through brittle branches. A distant siren echoed from the city’s edge, muffled by concrete and heavy drapes. But in this room, time moved differently—slower, stretched like a held breath.

“You think this is a good idea?” you asked finally, eyes on the ceiling.

“Which part?” he asked, voice low.

“This.”

He turned his head slightly. “You mean sharing a bed or pretending you don’t want me?”

Your breath caught.

He didn’t move. Didn’t look cocky. Just said it like it was fact. Like he’d been biding his time. Watching you squirm.

“You don’t know what I want,” you said, throat tight.

He shifted then—turning onto his side to face you. The room suddenly felt ten degrees hotter.

“I know you grind your teeth when you’re holding back,” he murmured. “You do it every time we train. Every time I get too close.”

You clenched your jaw instinctively.

He chuckled darkly. “Like that.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You think I haven’t noticed how you breathe when I touch you?”

His voice was low, intimate. Dangerous.

“Every fuckin’ time. You hold it like you're trying not to fall apart.”

You turned your head, finally meeting his eyes. Crimson, intense, hungry—but restrained. Barely.

“You’ve got some sick fantasy, don’t you?” you whispered. “You like the idea of breaking me.”

His tongue flicked across his teeth. “I think about it all the time.”

The air thickened. You couldn’t move. Didn’t want to.

“I think about what you sound like when you finally let go,” he continued, voice like molasses. “What your body would do if I just kept going. Slow. Relentless. Until you’re begging.”

You swallowed. “What makes you think I’d beg?”

“Because you want to.”

His hand moved then, brushing over your waist—just his knuckles. Light. Testing. And you didn’t stop him.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured.

You didn’t.

His hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers warm against your stomach. The sensation made you inhale sharply. His touch was rough from years of battle but careful—slow, as if memorizing the feel of your skin. His fingertips moved gently, brushing along the sensitive dip above your navel. You could feel the callouses drag—each one a ghost of the wars he’d survived.

He watched your face the whole time.

“I’ll stop,” he said again, voice gentle. “If you tell me to.”

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Because you were already too far gone.

You turned fully to him, pressed your forehead to his, eyes fluttering closed. “Then stop talking.”

He growled low in his throat—like something primal had been unlocked—and kissed you like he was starving.

His lips were fire. Heated, desperate, but not careless. They moved with intention, like he’d imagined this too many times to mess it up now. You opened to him slowly, breath catching as his hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you deeper.

His breath was hot against your cheek as he broke away to breathe. “You drive me insane,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours. "Always acting like you don't feel this."

“I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction.”

“You are my satisfaction.”

His hands roamed—under your shirt, up your back, thumbs tracing your spine with maddening patience. When his mouth found your neck, you felt it like lightning. Heat pooled low in your stomach as he dragged his tongue across your pulse point, then gently sucked. His breath was humid against your skin. You whimpered.

The sound made him growl.

“Say my name,” he breathed.

“Katsuki.”

He nearly shuddered. "Again."

“Katsuki.”

His mouth returned to yours, more demanding this time. His thigh slipped between yours, pressing up slightly. You gasped at the pressure. His lips curved against yours.

Outside, the wind howled. But inside—it was all heat.

He rolled you onto your back slowly, reverently. One hand beside your head. One tracing your ribs. “You’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered. “How long I’ve dreamed about the way you’d sound. The way you’d feel.”

You reached up, fingers slipping into his hair. “Then stop dreaming.”

And he did.

His mouth met your skin like it had a purpose—lips dragging down your throat to your collarbone, warm and open, followed by the scrape of his teeth. Your back arched into him before you could stop yourself. It wasn’t just the contact—it was the heat behind it. Intentional. Heavy.

He pushed your shirt higher, pausing when your chest was bare to him. His gaze flicked up to your eyes as he ran his hand across your ribs, brushing the edge of your bra.

“Off,” he said, voice like gravel.

You reached behind you with shaky fingers, unhooking it slowly. His eyes never left yours. When the strap slipped free and the fabric peeled away, his breath hitched.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re unreal.”

He dipped his head, taking your nipple into his mouth, warm and slow. The wet heat of his tongue circled lazily before he sucked gently, just once. It was enough to make your hips twitch. His hand covered the other breast, thumb flicking across your skin, teasing. Worshipping.

You felt every nerve ending light up. His body moved lower, dragging his lips and tongue down your stomach, hands gripping your thighs like he’d lose control if he didn’t anchor himself. Each breath against your skin made you shiver.

And then—

Bzzt bzzt.

The sound of your shared comm buzzed sharply on the nightstand.

Neither of you moved.

Bzzt bzzt.

“Shit,” you whispered.

Bakugo growled against your hip. “Ignore it.”

“But—”

He reached out blindly and flipped the device onto the floor. “If it’s urgent, they’ll send backup. Not fuckin’ dying in the next ten minutes.”

And then he pulled your shorts down, dragging them past your thighs with torturous slowness.

“You ever think about this?” he asked. “About me?”

You nodded. “All the time.”

That answer lit something in him.

His mouth met the inside of your thigh, then the other, kisses molten and patient. His breath ghosted over your core—then his tongue flicked out.

You gasped—sharp and high. His hands locked around your thighs, spreading them wider as his mouth pressed fully against you. Tongue firm and slow, circling your clit before dipping lower, then back. Over and over.

Your hips rolled instinctively. He groaned against you like your reaction turned him on more than anything. Every flick, every press was controlled, relentless. You were falling apart. One hand gripped the sheets, the other twisted in his hair.

“Katsuki—”

He looked up, mouth slick, eyes dark. “Not yet. I’m not lettin’ you come until you beg.”

Your stomach clenched. “I can’t—”

“You can. And you will.”

Then he went back in. This time faster, fingers sliding inside you—two, perfect stretch, curling until you moaned so loudly you barely noticed the second call coming through.

Bzzt bzzt.

Bakugo didn’t even flinch.

You were close. Too close. Your thighs trembled. Breath hitched. His name left your lips in broken syllables.

“Please,” you gasped. “Katsuki—please—I need it.”

That’s all he needed.

He sucked hard on your clit, fingers working deeper, faster. The orgasm crashed into you like a wave. Your back arched, thighs shaking as you came on his tongue with a loud cry. He kept going—drawing it out, dragging you through every pulse.

Only when your body went limp did he lift his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes met yours.

“Good girl,” he said softly.

He kissed you again, slow and messy, letting you taste yourself on his lips. Then he whispered against your mouth:

“Now I’m gonna fuck you like I’ve wanted to since day one.”

He didn’t give you time to recover. His hands moved with precision—pulling his boxers down just enough to free himself, his cock already hard, flushed, leaking. You stared, breath caught in your throat, until his fingers curled under your knee, lifting your leg to open you further.

“Look at me,” he rasped.

You did.

He lined himself up and pushed in—slow, steady, stretching you inch by inch. Your nails dug into his arms, back arching with the pressure. The heat of him, the weight, the way he filled you—it made your head spin.

He groaned low. “Fuck… you feel—better than I imagined.”

You gasped, clutching at him as he bottomed out. His breath stuttered above you, forehead pressing against yours. The weight of him, the tension in his muscles—he was holding back.

“Katsuki…” you whispered, barely able to say his name.

“I got you,” he murmured, pulling out slow, then thrusting in again—just once. Deep. Measured. You cried out, body jolting against the mattress.

Outside, another buzz echoed from the comm, sharp and insistent.

Bzzt bzzt.

“Let it ring,” he growled.

And then he started to move.

Rhythmic. Controlled. Each thrust dragged along every sensitive nerve, every edge inside you. His hips met yours with force but never lost their cadence. You moaned—high and helpless—clutching at his shoulders.

His hands held your thighs, thumbs digging in, angling you just right so every stroke hit that devastating spot deep inside. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The only thing that existed was him. The way he moved. The way he filled you. The way he groaned your name through clenched teeth.

“You feel me?” he panted.

“Yes—yes, Katsuki—”

He cursed and kissed you—sloppy, desperate, swallowing your moans. One hand slipped between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

You shattered.

Your second orgasm crashed into you harder than the first. Your vision blurred, back bowing off the bed. He didn’t stop. He fucked you through it, letting you ride every wave as your walls clenched around him, milking him.

He bit out a strangled moan. “Shit—I’m—”

His rhythm stuttered. He buried himself deep one final time, groaning loud as he came—hot and thick, his body shaking with it.

The room was filled with nothing but breath. The rise and fall of lungs. The quiet creak of the mattress.

Outside, the comm buzzed again.

You laughed softly, dazed. “They’re gonna kill us.”

Bakugo collapsed beside you, dragging you against his chest. His hand rested on your hip. “Worth it.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair. “Yeah… worth it.”

You stayed there—naked, tangled in sheets and each other—ignoring the outside world a little longer.

Just the two of you.

And all the things you weren’t scared to feel anymore.

Author Note: thanks for reading o(≧v≦)o request are open

#[💥]⍣ ೋmyheroacademia #[🍙] ꉂ`~`˖ *#mha bakugou #mha x reader #mha smut #mha x y/n #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x you #bakugo #bakugo katuski #bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha

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writingwisterias · 3 months ago

Note

I know requests are closed so there really isn't any rush, please take your time and respond when you are ready. :) But I would love to hear your take on the reader letting Leon use them as a toy, while he looks at porn or scrolls other girls profiles. I just want to be a vessel for his cock and nothing more <3

I sure can omgggg, I mixed this is with an idea that has been stuck in my head all fucking day! I know this is late lmao but it works perfectly. I can't tell if I hate or love it either

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Degradation Kink, Cock warming, Dom!Leon, Intox Kink, Age-Gap, Overstimuation, Dickhead!Leon, Erectile dysfunction (Whiskey Dick), Light Praise kink, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Reverse Cow-girl, Light Angst, Drinking, Alcoholism, Self-doubt

Vendetta!Leon x AFAB!Fem!Reader

It wasn't normal to have a relationship like this, you knew that. To be with someone so closed off to not only the people they care about but themselves. You knew you weren't going to get anything better with him but he still gave you attention. Still kissed your pretty tears away when he would fuck you. Being used by him at least made you feel like you had a purpose in this life, that someone actually wanted you.

It didn't matter it was just for sex. For Leon that was perfect having no connection to someone meaning he didn't have to spill the horrors that plagued him.

It wasn't unusual for you to saunter into bars, prying on the broken men slumped against the stools for free drinks. Uni was rough, barely having enough money to pay for your food yet alone the drinks you craved. All that work, a diploma under your belt just for you to be wondering here every night dressed to the point where your tits might as well just hang out. Normally as a thanks to the poor souls you would convince to get a drink or two, you'd drag the round back or to the toilets and give them a few pumps of their gross cocks and then leave them in the alleyway drowning in the aftermath of their orgasm.

Not Leon though.

He didn't fall for it. Leon's words never slurred like the others guys did, his shoes didn't drag across the floor in an eager drunken stumble as he followed you with a warning smirk. You weren't used to drunk men being so coherent with you, to actually realize they were paying for your drinks with the promise of a ghost of your touch. The growing pit in your stomach told you that you would have to do more than a few fake moans and whimpers to get him to cum. His looks made it worthwhile, his attitude demanded your attention and effort. Almost like if you didn't cave into this persona he put in place you weren't worth his time.

However, Leon differed to the other men, somehow in a more pathetic way that caused you to suck in you bottom lip to prevent the low chuckle. No despite the darker look in his eyes, the ego you were surprised even fit in the bar entrance. The poor guy could not get his cock to rise. His cheeks flushed pink as he stared at his stubborn dick as it flopped pathetic in front of you. Trust it to ruin his night further.

You thought Whiskey dick was just a rumour, never really experiencing despite all the older men you dragged around like a puppy on a leash...it until now. Maybe that's why you took pity on him and allowed him to drag you back to his home on a risky drunken bike ride.

It was all so dangerous...so thrilling. Being dragged back to the strangers house, the feeling of sipping the alcohol from the glass he held in hand. That night changed everything, not just for him but for you. Perhaps this was you purpose in life. Your true calling was to be this sex doll for a depressed alcoholic so he could finally get some release in his supposed shit life.

It should have insulted you more that the only purpose you to him was to be a glorified doll but then you would have gotten this lavish life. To be able to wander around his penthouse free of rent, money chucked at your feet to keep you quiet as he sauntered off to god knows where. Your soul purpose to him was to sit there and look pretty.

So that's exactly what you did.

Leon's cock was so far inside of you stretching the limits of your poor pussy. It had been hours since he managed to get it to even twitch let alone becoming hard enough for you to sit on it like this. He spent half the time blaming it on the stress from the mission he had just returned from and not the whiskey glass that was sat on the side table. Your throat burned from the neat liquid that he gave you. He had to share...he always shared. You didn't care though not when it took away the burn from his stretch or the ache in your thighs from where they remained spread out across his own.

He didn't pay any attention to you, no, his eyes were glued to the phone that he held out to the both of you. Your job was to squirm and clench him as he watched the porn he pulled up. His fingers absently moved around that needy little clit drawing figures of 8 around the puffy nerve. Smirking at the small gasps that left your lips as his finger pinched it. You couldn't see the video, not with the tipsy glaze that washed over them. Instead you had to rely on the stimulation he was giving you to reach an orgasm.

You moaned loudly as he finally started to move his hips, a shallow grind nothing like the pace the man had on the video he was watching. Leon liked to make it last, after all the days of him getting this hard and thick were far and few between. The sudden change was a lot for your tispy brain, his soft grunts filled your ear as he nipped at your neck. You felt his arm around your waist tightening as he adjusted you. "Shh, just take it" Leon grunted, his lips muting you in a harsh kiss. His lips tasting like the remains of the whiskey from his last sip.

"Good girl" He groaned as his hips grinded inside you, his length barely exiting you.

You cheeks flushed darker with the compliment, your back arching against his chest just for something...any form of simulation. Leon's grip loosened around your waist allowing your hips to circle slightly. You listened as his grunts soon turned into groans as he felt your walls contract around him. You worked yourself to an orgasm, providing him with the warmth as stimulation of your moments not entertainment.

Leon's eyes still remained only on the small screen. Watching the guys cock slide in and out of the girls pussy much like his was doing right now.

He watched your breasts bounce in the corner of his eye as you adjusted yourself to used his knees for leverage to bounce once his arm fell from your waist. Your nails bit into the fabric of his trousers. "Fuck" You muttered as he shfited himself to sink back in the chair, his legs spreading wider. "Shit I needed this...I need you" He groaned. You weren't sure if he was telling the truth most of the time. You could never tell if you were actually something to him instead of a glorified fleshlight.

"Much better than my hand or any toy...my personal little sex doll"

Each word sent tingles down to your pussy, your clit twitching against his balls. "Leon-"

"Dolls don't talk sweetheart, I want to hear my video"

An apology lingered on your lips along with your moans and whimpers silenced by the bite of your lower lip. You were you to do anything above your station for him. It was all becoming too much, his cock was perfect filling you perfectly as the tip brushed against that spongy spot inside. The twitches of it were becoming more violent the closer he got. His grunts and groans finally becoming breathless, all signs that he was almost done. That his tired dick was finally ready to pump the cum it was meant to do after so long of forcing it to rise.

Your moan slipped past your lips as your orgasm finally snapped, your walls sucking him in tightly. No doll could do that, squeeze him like a vice as they whimpered and shivered on his lap. "Fuck sweetheart" He grunted as he buillied his cum into you. His eyes only leaving the phone to pull you back against him to stop the obstruction to the money shot of his cum leaking out from between you falling on the fabric that surrounded his balls. He watched your chest rise and fall you heaved out breaths, your limbs becoming loose on him like a weighted blanket.

It didn't take long as guilt settled whilst he came down from his high. Leon the thought about the way he treated you, the way you just put up with it all with no complaints. As if that was your only worth in this life.

He couldn't bare look in the mirror not when the eyes of his younger self would stare back in shame. Instead his fingers placed the phone on the side table and reached for the whiskey instead. Drowning the thoughts was better whenever it was with your pussy or the amber liquid. He wasn't ready to face the younger version of himself. Or the belongings that he managed to keep buried deep on the top shelf of the closet, where they should stay.

He knew you had your own problems that's why you didn't hesitate as he bought the glass to your lips. You didn't cough as the burn of the amber liquid settled on your chest. Instead you looked at him, eyes begging and craving for something more from him. This was the only intimacy that you got, these post nut clarity where his mind was just slightly clearer. Perhaps this is all you'll ever get from him. The intoxicating whirlpool of Leon Kennedy.

#~mads rambles #~mads~mail💌#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy vendetta

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seungmincider · 15 days ago

Text

Not Much Left, Is There?

—MDNI—

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

Genre: Smut, Bimbofication, Power Play

Rating: Explicit

CW: Dumbification, degradation + praise mix, pet names (good girl, baby, doll), power dynamic (soft dom x submissive reader), overstimulation, dirty talk, light spit play, mental unraveling

Wc: 2,500 (ish)

Synopsis: You start the night sharp, clever, in control. By the end, you’re drooling around his cock, brain gone fuzzy, body trembling, and begging for more.

Your legs are shaking, and you can’t remember how many times you’ve come.

You think it’s four. Or five. Maybe six? You tried to count, but at some point your thoughts got all tangled and soft — too slippery to hold onto. All you can do now is breathe and moan and look up at Seungmin with those wide, dazed eyes he loves so much.

He’s still fully dressed. That’s the worst part.

Or maybe the best.

“You’re so fuckin’ easy now,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers slowly down your cheek, thumb smearing a little drool from the corner of your lips.

“Used to get all smart with me. All full of attitude.”

You whimper. You want to argue — say you are smart, that you still can think — but all that comes out is a messy little sound and the instinctive grind of your hips against the mattress.

“Oh?” He tilts his head. “You’ve got something to say, baby?”

You try. Really. But your mouth opens and all that spills out is, “I—please—Seungmin, I—”

He hums, mock-pitying, sliding two fingers between your legs and pressing right where you’re soaked and sensitive. Your whole body jolts.

“That’s what I thought.” He leans in closer, voice low and velvet-smooth. “Any brain cells left in that little head of yours?”

You shake your head before you even mean to.

He grins.

“God, you’re perfect.”

His hand leaves your cunt and wraps around your throat instead — gentle, just enough pressure to make your body hum. Not choking. Just owning.

“This is where you belong. Flat on your back, drooling for me, too dumb to remember your own name unless I remind you.”

“Seungmin—”

“Shh.” He slides his fingers into your mouth, slow and deliberate. “Suck.”

You do — eager, eyes fluttering shut as you wrap your lips around them like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like you’re made for this. He watches your mouth work, watches your thighs twitch, and his smile deepens.

“There she is,” he murmurs. “My dumb little doll. Don’t need to think. Don’t need to talk. Just keep that mouth busy and take what I give you.”

When he finally unzips his pants and pulls himself out, you whimper so sweetly that he chuckles — low and warm, like he’s genuinely proud of how far you’ve fallen.

“Open wide, baby. Gonna make that pretty head even emptier.”

His cock rests heavy against your lips, the head flushed, already leaking. You can feel him twitch when your tongue peeks out and licks a stripe along the underside — slow, trembling, like your body knows what to do even if your brain’s long gone.

“That’s it,” Seungmin breathes. “See? Don’t need to think when you’re on your knees like this. Mouth open, eyes blank — fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”

He doesn’t shove himself in. No — he takes his time. Presses the tip against your lips, lets you wrap around him willingly, sinking inch by inch into your mouth as you moan around him.

Your head’s fuzzy. You can’t remember what you were going to say. You don’t even care. All that matters is the weight on your tongue, the praise in his voice, and the way he pets your hair like you’re his perfect little toy.

“Good girl,” he groans, hips barely rocking forward. “Just like that. Keep sucking. Nice and slow. Don’t think — just feel.”

You do. God, you feel everything.

The sting of your sore throat. The throb between your legs. The dull ache in your knees from how long you’ve been down here. All of it just blends into heat. Pleasure. Him.

He doesn’t go too deep — not yet. He lets you drool down your chin, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, but his grip stays gentle.

“You’re so good for me,” he whispers, tilting your chin up as he pulls out with a pop. His cock is soaked, shining with spit. “Bet if I fucked you right now, you’d come before I even bottomed out.”

You nod. You’re not even embarrassed. You want it. You want to be that easy.

“Messy thing,” he murmurs, pushing you back onto the bed. “So empty, aren’t you?”

You nod again, panting.

He climbs over you, mouth brushing your ear. “Then let me fill you up.”

You whimper, legs spreading without a second thought — your body’s already begging even before your mouth can catch up.

And when he finally slides inside — slow, deliberate, filling you inch by inch like he’s claiming space in your body and your mind — you swear something inside you breaks open.

Not pain. Not even pleasure. Just surrender.

He groans into your throat, hand curling around your waist as you clench around him.

“That’s it, baby. Not a thought left, huh?”

All you can do is moan, arms weak around his shoulders, head lolling back as he starts to move.

And Seungmin? He’s nothing but patient.

He fucks you like he’s savoring it. Like he owns every whimper you make. Every twitch of your thighs. Every half-formed word that dies in your throat.

“Mine,” he murmurs. “My sweet, dumb, perfect girl.”

You’re already moaning, barely able to hold yourself together.

“Too much?” he asks, almost sweet. He cups your cheek like he cares, like he’d stop if you really needed him to.

But the look in his eyes says he knows.

Knows you’ll take it. That you want to take it. That you’re desperate to fall apart all over again just to hear him say you’re a good girl with nothing left to think about but his cock.

“N-no,” you breathe. “Please—keep going—need you—”

He smiles. Something proud. Something wicked.

“That’s my girl.”

He fucks you deeper then — not rough, but thorough, pushing into you until the rhythm has your whole body trembling beneath him. Your mind goes quiet. Blank. You can’t hold onto anything but the feeling of him dragging in and out, his hips grinding down just right against your swollen clit.

You’re already close again. He can tell.

“Already?” he coos. “Barely started, baby. Thought you were gonna be good for me. Thought you could take it.”

“I—I can—” you gasp, but the words slur out, wrecked and useless.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, still fucking you slow and deep. “Of course you can. My perfect little doll. Not a single thought left in that head, and you’re still trying to please me.”

You nod, teary-eyed, thighs trembling with the effort to keep up. You’re so wet, the sound of him sliding into you fills the room — obscene and raw and perfect.

Then his hand slides between your bodies and finds your clit again.

You jerk, eyes rolling back.

“No—too much—!”

“Too much?” he echoes, mocking-soft.

“Thought you said you could take it.”

Your mouth opens, but no words come out — just a high, broken moan as your body arches off the bed and your climax crashes over you like a wave.

It’s too much. It’s not enough. You want to stop. You want more. You don’t even know what you’re saying anymore.

And Seungmin watches it all, smiling like the devil himself.

“Messy little thing,” he whispers. “So easy to ruin now. Can’t even form words. Can’t even beg.”

You’re crying — not from pain, just from the sheer, overwhelming bliss. Your body’s gone soft and twitchy, your legs spread open and useless.

He fucks you through it, coaxing every last spasm out of you.

“Think you can come again, baby?” he murmurs. “One more for me? Just one more?”

You sob a yes. You’d say anything for him.

And when he starts thrusting again — a little harder this time, the rhythm faster, relentless — you realize there’s no going back.

You’re his. All of you.

Mind. Body. Every pretty little sound you make when he says your name.

His thumb circles your clit again — light, fast, cruel — and your hips buck without permission.

“No—wait, I—”

“Oh, you can,” he says, breath hot against your ear. “You will. I want to feel you fall apart on my cock, baby. One more time. Give it to me.”

Your fingers claw weakly at his back. Your mouth opens but all that comes out is a cry — a soft, helpless sound as your body locks up tight, walls fluttering around him. The orgasm rips through you like lightning, sharp and blinding and wet.

You sob, clinging to him, shaking through the aftershocks.

“There you go,” he whispers, slowing his hips but not stopping. “That’s it. Just like that. Let it all go. That’s my good girl.”

You’re wrecked. Destroyed. You can barely breathe.

And Seungmin just smiles. He’s so proud of you it almost hurts.

“You don’t even realize how pretty you look like this, do you?” he murmurs. His hand strokes down your cheek — gentle now. “Tears on your face, drool on your chin, legs shaking, pussy soaked… and still so good for me.”

You moan something — maybe his name, maybe nothing at all. Your brain’s gone, left behind somewhere around the third orgasm.

“That’s okay,” he coos, brushing sweaty hair out of your face. “Don’t need to talk. Don’t need to think.”

His rhythm gets sharper, faster. Controlled, but edging toward something rougher now — his need finally taking over after all the patience he’s shown.

“You’re perfect like this. All soft. All dumb. Just lying there and taking it.”

You moan, high and broken. The words make something flutter in your chest.

“You don’t even care that I’m using you, do you?” he breathes. His voice is getting breathless now, hips starting to stutter. “Just want me to fill you up. Want my cum in that stupid, sloppy cunt. Say it.”

“I—want—want you to—” you gasp, barely forming the words.

“Say it.”

“Want you to come inside—need it—need you—please—”

That’s all it takes.

He groans low and filthy as he buries himself to the hilt, cock twitching deep inside you as he spills into you with a shudder.

“Fuck yes…take all of it…”

His fingers dig into your hips, holding you still as he empties himself, breathing hard, sweat dripping down his temple. You can feel it — the warmth of it spreading inside you, hot and possessive.

He stays there for a long moment, chest pressed to yours, his cock still pulsing inside your aching walls.

Then he lets out a soft sigh and kisses your cheek.

You don’t know how long you lie there — your body boneless, legs still spread, his cum slowly dripping out of you and pooling onto the sheets. Your vision’s hazy. Everything feels soft. Distant.

But you feel him.

The weight of his body lifting gently from yours.

The way his fingers brush over your inner thigh, slow and light, tracing the mess he’s made of you like he’s memorizing it.

Then a warm cloth — soft, wet, and tender — touches your skin.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you, baby. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

You sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he wipes between your legs with practiced care. Every stroke is patient. Gentle. He’s not rushing. He never does.

“Look at this mess,” he says softly, but there’s no edge to it now. Only affection. “You took so much. Made for it, huh?”

You whimper faintly, your hips giving a weak twitch, but he presses a kiss to your thigh and hushes you again.

“I know. I know it’s a lot,” he says. “You were so good for me. So perfect. I’m proud of you.”

He turns the cloth, cleaning you with careful precision, working slowly from your thighs inward, never missing a spot. You’re still a little twitchy, sensitive, but he never pushes — just coos softly whenever you flinch.

��Breathe for me, doll,” he whispers. “In… and out. That’s it.”

When he finishes, he tosses the cloth aside and pulls the blankets up over you, tucking them gently around your shoulders like you’re delicate. Like you’re precious.

Then he slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your back to his chest. His hand settles over your belly, the other brushing hair away from your face.

“So pretty when you’re all used up,” he murmurs into your hair. “But this part’s my favorite.”

You hum softly. Barely there. But you feel safe. Grounded.

“You did everything I asked,” he says, voice low and warm. “Took all of me like a good girl. You didn’t even think, did you?”

You shake your head, the smallest smile tugging at your lips.

“Mm. Thought not.”

He kisses the shell of your ear and lets his hand drift to your hip, holding you steady in his arms.

“No more thinking tonight. Just rest, baby. I’ve got you.”

A/N: I gave myself whiplash writing this Seungmin 🫠

#kpop #skz fanfic #skz smut #skz fluff #skz #stray kids #seungminxreader #kim seungmin #seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #skzimagines #stray kids smut #viralpost

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xxsycamore · 9 months ago

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ━ ≪ VISIONS OF TEMPTATION 2024 ≫

Welcome to the fifth annual installment of Visions of Temptation, a multifandom kinktober prompt list/creation challenge! ►Under the cut you will find both lists written down in blank format. You’ll also find a short explanation of some of the lesser-known kinks.

███ GUIDELINES

► minors DNI!

► The two lists are absolutely free to use across all fandoms, with a main focus on otome games. If you’re a writer, artist, visual graphic creator, etc., you can use these lists to create your kinktober works.

►You can share this with your followers and open requests using these lists.

► In the kink list, you can choose a kink to work with for each day of October, while in the other list, you have 31 dialogue prompts. It’s up to you whether you choose to follow one of the lists or both, and to combine them or not. You don't have to follow just one list either - mix and match them if you'd like!

► Make sure to put content warnings where needed.

► Unlike most of my challenges, this one won't have a masterlist featuring the works created for it, meaning that it won't have a deadline either - feel free to complete it at your own pace.

► About credit: Make sure to mention the challenge itself and its creator. I’d be happy to see your works, so please tag me when using my list here on tumblr! Posting to other sites is fine, as long as you credit me :)

►In order for us to find each other's works and appreciate them, please make sure to use the tag " #visions of temptation 2024 " !

►Don't hesitate to reach out if you have a question! My askbox is always open!

►Remember to have fun and not stress over this really long challenge! ❤

targeted fandoms: Ikeseries (Ikemen Villains; Ikemen Prince; Ikemen Vampire; Ikemen Sengoku + other cybird games); Love and Deepspace; Tears of Themis; Obey me!; Mr. Love: Queen's Choice; Count of Darkness; Voltage games; Mystic Messenger; Lovebrush Chronicles; Light and Night + all other mobile/console otome you can think of. Remember, this is just the focus of the challenge - you can write for any fandom at all!

Depending on how much free time i've got on my hands, I'll also be checking out your works and reblogging them on my main blog, @kissmetwicekissmedeadly - under the tag "#vot '24 reblogs" :)

If you're wondering if I'm taking requests for my challenge, make sure to check my blog beforehand. At the moment of posting this, requests are closed - but that might change in the future.

███ PROMPTS

► both lists in blank format + handy explanation of some of the kinks under the cut.

Happy creating, everyone and may you have a great October! ❤

KINK LIST:

Porn Actors AU | Anonymous Sex/One-night Stand

Gloryholes | Handjobs/Fingering

Phone sex | Guided Touching

Orgasm Control | Bondage/Shibari

Make up Sex | Mirror Sex

Feather Play | Coming Untouched

Sensory Deprivation | Sex Toys/Object Insertion

Workplace Sex | Sex in a Vehicle

Choking/Breath play | Dacryphilia

Accidental Stimulation | Body Part Worship

Wet Dreams | Sexual Fantasy

First Times | Role Reversal

Fetish Clothing & Accessories | Striptease

Bathroom sex | Outdoor/Public sex

Discipline & Punishment | Degradation/Praise Kink

Nipple Orgasms | Lactation/Pregnant sex

Blade/Gun Play | Spanking/Impact play

Intoxication/Hypnosis/Aphrodisiacs | Dry Humping

Watersports | Begging

Food Play | Come Play

Anal Sex/Pegging | Size Difference

Omegaverse/Breeding | Petplay

Massages | Temperature Play

Facesitting | Deepthroating

Voyeurism/Exhibitionism | Getting Caught

Spitroasting | Double Penetration

Casual Sex/FWB | Switching Partners

Biting/Marking | Jealousy/Possessiveness

Sex Games/Dares | Trying New Positions

Cockwarming/Somnophilia | Foreplay/Aftercare focus

Non-human characters/traits | Sexual Roleplay

DIALOGUE LIST:

"I have no plans of stopping anytime soon."

"You have to say it. Use your words."

"See this? It's going to go inside you."

"Hush now. I'm only trying to help you."

"Let's see how long you can last."

"You know what happens when you do that."

"Maybe I should be punished?"

"Look at you, you're taking it so well."

"We can go, or we can stay here and fuck."

"And here I thought you were an innocent one."

"Go on, put it in yourself."

"Where do you want me to cum?"

"Don't tease now. Be nice."

"I want to watch you come just from this."

"Beg me to be gentle."

"You thought you could get away with seducing me?"

"One more orgasm and I'll untie you."

"You look good like that. Thoroughly loved."

"I thought this is what you wanted?"

"I love that you're only making this erotic face for me."

"Poor thing, you're barely standing on your legs."

"Here, bite into this. Since you can't stay quiet."

"That's it, you're doing such a good job."

"I can't stand a second more of not being inside you."

"Did the risk turn you on so much?"

"Oh, you'll regret letting me know that you like this."

"Come here. I'll make it all better."

"You're breathtaking. It makes me desire you so much."

"Seems like we can't keep our hands to ourselves."

"You feel so good. I don't ever want to stop."

"I've got much more in store for you."

some prompts explained...

Gloryholes - A person inserting their sexual organ through a hole in the wall with the intention to be pleasured from the other side.

Anonymous sex - Here's an idea: masquerade balls.

Orgasm Control - Can include Edging, Forced Orgasms, Orgasm denial.

Make up sex - Sex after an argument.

Mirror sex - Sex in front of a mirror.

Sensory Deprivation - Blocking stimuli from one or more of the senses. Example - Blindfolds.

Dacryphilia - Being turned on by your partner crying during sex.

Sexual Fantasy - Sharing/being made to share about a sexual fantasy, masturbating to a sexual fantasy, or helping your partner live out a sexual fantasy.

Role reversal - Swapping the giving and receiving role during intercourse.

Voyeurism - secretly watching someone participate in sexual activities or do something private and intimate like taking off their clothes.

Watersports - Everything involving pee. Holding it in, Golden showers, etc.

Come play - Anything to do with a partner's cum, for example Come marking.

Spitroasting - A three-way sex act in which a person is penetrated orally and anally/vaginally at the same time.

Omegaverse - A kink-trope-universe build around a hierarchy of biological roles: alphas>betas>omegas.

Somnophilia - Intercourse while a sexual partner is asleep.

FWB - Friends with benefits.

Switching partners - Two or more couples having intercourse at the same time, swapping/switching their partners.

Impact play - Slapping a sexual partner, could be across the face or on their rear.

Sexual roleplay - doctor/patient play, boss/employee play, all kinds of play pretend.

Hope these could be of help! Remember, you can always come ask if something's unclear. Once again, happy creating! ❤

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3amwritings · 3 months ago

Text

Backstage Pass

Pairing: Wooyoung X Reader X Seonghwa X San

Author's Note: This is in fact a reupload, I edited some things and it diverted too much from the original. nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!!! -admin j (aka admin coconut)

Genre: Smut, 18+, MINORS DNI, Sweet tooth rotting fluffy aftercare afterwards >.< Word Count: 11.7k words Summary: After a long, exciting concert, your bandmates know the perfect way to release all that extra energy and adrenaline. Warnings: Fem!Reader, Mommy!Hwa, Noona!Woo, Unnie!San, Woosanhwa uses feminine honorifics (and pronouns), Double Penetration, Lots of cum, Cumplay, Object insertion, Snowballing, Spitting, its fucking messy as fuck, Cum marking, Dom!Hwa, Mean Bratty Dom!Woo, Soft Dom!San and Sub!Reader, Blowjobs, Face Sitting, Facials, Creampies, Lots and lots of cum did I mention that?, Cum Eating, Oral (F and M receiving), Facefucking, Foursome, Anal, Ass eating, Rimming, this is so fucking filthy holy shit, Fingering, Video Recording, Possessive sex, Jealous sex, Petnames, Dick piercings, Woosanhwa are just all covered in piercings ngl, i probably missed some shit, dacryphilia, slight mxm in a few parts nothing too serious, Biting, Free use, Choking, Praise, Degrading, Princess!Mingi mention lol

The moment the last note is strummed, the concert comes to a halt, and the crowd cheers with pure excitement. You’re gasping for air, the pump of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Oh, you could never get used to this. It was exhilarating.

“Thank you, Houston!” You cheer, and the crowd roars with cheers and excitement. As you lift your hand to wave goodbye to the city, there’s a big grin on your face.

You love what you do. You love performing for the adoring fans, and you love travelling to meet new fans, but most importantly, you love your bandmates more than anything.

As you grabbed your microphone off the stand, you began to make your way off the stage, following right behind Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and San. In order, their roles in the band were guitarist, drummer, bassist, and vocals.

The curtains close in on the crowd, but you can still hear the cheers from the other side, filling your body with a great sense of pride and accomplishment.

When the four of you make it backstage, there's a flurry of staff running around. Some of them are carrying props, and others are carrying sound equipment and lights. It's extremely chaotic.

“I’ll be back. I need to find a restroom here.” San lets out a groan, gently propping his bass guitar against a wall, walking deeper and deeper backstage. A staff member quickly grabs his bass guitar, running around backstage to put it away.

“Maybe we should head to the bus.” You spoke up softly. Seonghwa looks down at you, pursing his lips to a thin line. There has been jealousy, a bitter jealousy, simmering in his blood ever since he saw you with a fan.

Are you serious? Are you just going to get on the bus and act like nothing happened? Not on his watch. Hwa’s eyes dart over to Woo, who is biting the inside of his cheek.

Wooyoung was a lot more open about his jealousy, and the angry tint in his eyes was all Seonghwa needed to proceed.

You stop in your tracks as you feel Seonghwa grip your bicep, his grasp firm and his intent clear as day. “Let’s have a chat, first,” Seonghwa says dryly, and with a gentle tug, he begins to lead you towards what seems to be a green room: Your green room.

Wooyoung couldn’t help but have a sly grin on his face, his other arm snaking around your waist. His grip is tight, squeezing your hip like a child holds his favorite toy. “Wasn’t that a great show? I’m just so pumped up right now.” Woo couldn’t help but purr. The smell of his sweat mixed with his cologne made your head spin. You swallow back some of your spit, a pit forming in your stomach. Not out of fear or anxiety, but more out of anticipation. “I-It really was.” You couldn’t help but nod.

The inside of your green room was rather spacious, all things considered. Your vanity desk was rather neat, with just your prop microphone resting in the middle. The mirror has little LED lightbulbs around the frame. A soft plush sofa is propped against the wall, accented with little decorative cushions and blankets, and there’s an armchair on the other side of the room. Your eyes dart around the padded acoustic wall panels on the walls and the ceilings. Wooyoung is the last one to walk in behind you, lazily locking the door behind him, ensuring complete privacy.

Wooyung couldn’t help but mentally give kudos to Seonghwa: He chose the perfect room to get as loud as they pleased.

The two sources of light in this room are the overhead light that illuminates this soundproofed green room and the vanity lights. It’s dead silent, and the atmosphere is so tense. Knives would have a field day slicing this thick tension.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Seonghwa broke the silence. “Who was that guy in the crowd?” There's a dangerous undertone in his voice. You swallow nervously, his hands tightening their grip on your biceps. Your hands curled into fists, your arms tensing up slightly. “O-Oh you know. Gotta play my part with our fans.” You stammer out a reply, a little smile forming on your face. Wooyung growls, and his arms fully wrap around your waist, yanking you back against his chest. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as his soft plush lips begin sucking gently on your exposed neck. His cold lip ring piercing makes your skin tingle slightly. Wooyoung couldn't care less if you were going to complain about the marks. Right now, he’s fucking fuming. “We know we agreed to keep this private, but you’re really, really testing us.” Woo hissed out, sinking his teeth into your neck. You cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain, letting out soft whimpers as Wooyoung lazily licks over the new-forming bruise. A smirk forms on his face, he loves hearing your pathetic noises so much.

Seonghwa, who was not amused with your response, lets go of your biceps, only to immediately grip your chin. He forces you to look up at him, the intent of his jealousy shining so obviously in his eyes. “You don’t have to get that into it.” Seonghwa snarls.

You couldn’t help but shudder; Seeing Seonghwa this pissed was so fucking sexy. He tsks, shaking his head in disappointment. “You get on stage… and it's like your pretty head immediately forgets who you belong to.” He leans in, and his lips are pressed to yours in a rough kiss. You softly moan in response, your hands gently gripping Hwa’s forearms, feeling the soft polyester material beneath your fingertips.

Hwa’s kiss is rough, needy, and demanding. His teeth bite down on your bottom lip, only soothing it better as he slips his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongue playing with the metal ball of his tongue piercing sets his body ablaze. This is exactly what Hwa wants. This simple act soothes his frayed, jealous nerves.

Watching your kiss with Hwa, Wooyoung’s hands, which were littered with silver and black colored rings, began to trace and dance around your body. “You really need a reminder of who you belong to.” Wooyoung whispers in your ear, a big grin forming on his face. You let out another moan between Hwa’s soft lips as Wooyoung’s hands snuck underneath your tank top, his hands cupping your breasts through your thin bralette.

You shudder and twitch ever so slightly under his grasp. Wooyoung’s fingers begin to tease at your nipples, nibbling gently at your earlobe. “Look at how responsive she is for Mommy and Noona… She’s just begging to be put in her place, isn’t she?” Woo purrs, his hands pulling your tank shirt up just enough so it rested above your chest. With swift fingers, Seonghwa works to unbuckle your bralette, also raising it above your chest.

Gasping for air, you broke the kiss, moaning as Wooyoung toyed with your nipples, tugging and pulling until they were stiff peaks. “Isn’t that right, baby? Are you so needy for Mommy and Noona?” Seonghwa couldn’t help but croon, his long, deft fingers reaching for the hem of your low-rise jeans, unbuttoning them swiftly and deftly.

“Y-Yes…” You whimpered in response, and Wooyoung pinched your nipples, causing you to whine slightly and arch involuntarily against his back. “Nuh-uh, slut. Who are we to you?” His tone is almost mocking, snickering slightly as your face flushes red. Wooyoung loved teasing you, he loves seeing how flustered you get because of him. “M-Mommy and Noona…” You finally stammer out as Seonghwa pulls down your pants, revealing your black lace underwear. “Such a good baby…”

“Let Mommy tell you what she has in store for her naughty baby, okay?” Seonghwa purrs, his eyes staring right up at you, waiting expectantly for you to respond. So, reluctantly, you swallow and nod. “Y-Yes, Mommy…” You responded, and Seonghwa hummed with delight.

Wooyoung’s hands finally stop toying with your breasts, his fingers gently trailing down your abdomen. His touch is feather light, and he can feel the way your body prickle with goosebumps. Wooyoung smiles to himself, enjoying the way you’re just so responsive to him.

“You see, you’ve been a very naughty baby. Looking at your fans, while you know full well you belong to us....” Seonghwa has a smirk on his face, relishing in how much dominance he currently has over you. “Such a bad, little pet...”

You let out a soft yelp as Wooyoung’s hand makes direct contact with your ass, gently squeezing to soothe it better afterwards. “You’re so naughty, little pet. You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted to rile up your Noona and Mommy.” Woo growls, nipping your ear again. As much as he likes the chase of it, sometimes you did like to push it too far. “I-I wasn’t doing this on purpose, Noona.” You squeaked softly, and Wooyoung clicked his tongue. “Do you think I was born yesterday? I know your game better than you do.” He bit your earlobe again, and he growled once more in your ear.

“We will not gonna go easy on you, either. Since you want to be such a little brat, you need to be punished accordingly.” Wooyoung giggles with glee as Seonghwa gently forces your legs open further.

Hwa felt his blood go utterly cold as he sees the sight of the small, ruby bejeweled buttplug that was inside of your ass. Oh, you’re such a little brat. ”I can see you had some… plans after the show that we were not aware of.” He murmured, although there was nothing light about his tone of voice. His long fingers gently reach to it, slightly teasing by tugging on it, and pushing it back in place. You let out a soft noise, with Hwa tsking lightly in disapproval. “You’re claiming you weren’t doing this on purpose, and yet here you are, your ass ready to be whored out.”

You let out a strangled moan as Wooyoung suddenly plunges two fingers knuckles deep inside your pussy. His fingers rub that special spot that makes you see stars, your legs trembling and threatening to buckle from the pleasure.

“You need a lot of reminders, it seems.” Seonghwa spat, watching with great interest as your sweet juices spill all on Wooyoung’s fingers, enjoying the sound of your noises spilling from your lips.

“N-Noona, please...” You found yourself softly begging, and a whine rips from your throat as Wooyung pulls his fingers out of your leaky cunt, tsking slightly. “No. You’re not in control here.”

Wooyoung then lets go of you, his hand to his lips, licking up your sweet juices off his fingers. “Now, sit down and relax, pet.” He crooned, although there was nothing light-hearted about his tone.

You comply, and with your face now a soft pink color, you carefully make your way to the soft plush couch, taking a seat as requested.

Your eyes widened, and your face burned with embarrassment as Wooyoung handed you a microphone. That’s your microphone, the recognizable sleek, matted navy blue color unique only to you. The one that you used to perform the show today. And then Woo tosses a condom on your lap, and it’s like your brain is melting into goo.

Seonghwa was rather surprised by Wooyoung’s little plan, but he had no qualms about it. “Go on, Dove.” Seonghwa purrs, his arms crossed. Your eyes accidentally land on his tent in his jeans, and you swallow a bit of drool that formed in your mouth.

“Y-Yes, Mommy…” Carefully, you brought the condom to your teeth, tearing off the wrapper with precise ease. Pulling the condom itself out of the wrapper, you took a shuddered breath, hesitating for just a moment. You knew what you had to do, but it still felt a bit embarrassing. You looked back up at Wooyoung, who was already shamelessly jerking himself off. “Come on, pet. You wanted to be naughty, this is your punishment.” Wooyoung sneers, his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, slowly pumping himself. The ladder piercings that trailed up his shaft were in full view, and you drool just a little bit.

With a soft, shaky breath, you took the condom and effortlessly rolled it onto the base of the microphone. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at Hwa or Woo. It felt way too embarrassing, your face was bright red. But at the same time, it all makes you feel like your core is spiraling, your pussy throbbing with need. This was so fucking hot, for all the wrong, filthy reasons.

“Now, why don’t you give us a show? Go ahead, Love.” Seonghwa smirks, slowly unzipping his jeans to finally release his throbbing cock from its confines. There was no need to explain what he had wanted.

“Y-Yes, Mommy…” You stammer out, slowly pulling down your black underwear off your body. Trails of your sticky arousal clung to your thighs, your face burning more with shame. Carefully, you spread your legs, the view of your throbbing cunt in full display for Hwa and Wooyoung. “Oh fuck, look at you. You’re such a little horny slut for us, aren't you?” Woo sneers, his thumb rubbing over his red, sensitive tip, smearing precum all over.

You softly bit your lower lip and tried to look down and focus on the mic between your legs instead of them. You can’t bring yourself to look at their intense stares anymore. It feels like you just might explode.

Soenghwa watches with keen interest as you carefully brought the microphone to your folds, letting out a soft moan as you rubbed the blunt tip against your clit. “Good girl. Keep going.” Hwa nods, his cock twitching with interest. But he doesn’t touch himself, wanting to watch you instead, just to make you feel more shame.

“Oh fuck, that’s sooo hot.” Wooyoung moans out, his hand still pumping the tip of his cock, his eyes glued on the scene before him. With a sly grin, his free hand reaches for his pocket, pulling out a cell phone. You can immediately recognize it as his spare: The one he uses to record you.

“Come on, Sweetie. Fuck yourself with your mic already.” Wooyoung whines out in annoyance, positioning the phone so it had the perfect recording view of you, capturing everything.

“N-Noona…” You couldn’t help but slightly whine, but deep down, you knew better than to piss them off further. They can and will leave you alone, not touching you for the rest of the night. You could already imagine Wooyoung’s shit eating grin and Seonghwa’s sadsitic smirk as they leave you be…

You softly bit your lower lip, and you let out a shuddered moan as you slip the microphone inside your leaky cunt, your walls clamping eagerly around the handle. Your face burns even redder in pure shame, your eyes shut and your eyebrows slightly furrowed. You couldn’t deny that there was something about this filthy, explicit scenario... It’s turning you on even further.

“N-Noona..!” You moan as you slowly begin to thrust the mic inside you, the end hitting your g-spot perfectly. Your juices leak and spill out, coating the condom covered mic and Wooyoung couldn’t help but let out a moan too in response. His heavy cock leaks more and more of his precum onto his hand. Woo’s hand grips the camera tighter, trembling to keep it steady and focused on you. He’s pumping himself faster, hoping to finally catch that peak himself. He tossed his head back, biting his bottom so hard crimson blood oozed out steadily.

Suddenly, Wooyoung’s eyes snap open as Hwa’s hand grips his wrist, forcing him to come to a halt. The pleasure that had been building up in his spine disappears almost immediately, causing a loud needy, whiny “What the fuck?” to leave his lips.

“Noona needs to be patient.” Hwa clicks his tongue, and Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” Wooyoung grumbles, reluctantly pulling his hand away him his throbbing cock, that was twitching and jolting from unresolved frustration. His attention is brought back to you, and he zooms in a little bit on the show, grinning excessively.

Your moans are getting louder and more whiny, adjusting the position of your hand to fully thrust the mic inside you. You tossed your head back against the couch, the noises leaving your lips being borderline pornographic. “Look at us, Dove.” Seonghwa purrs, and you moved your head to look back at him, eyes opened with little tears of pure bliss forming. “Look at us as you fuck yourself stupid with your microphone.”

More of your juices spilled and coated the condom-covered mic, and you could only sheepishly nod, eyes locked on Wooyoung and Seonghwa.

Seonghwa has a taunting smile on his face, finding this whole scene erotic. The bulge in his jeans was proof of his enjoyment. Wooyoung is still recording, having a shit-eating grin. “Awh, look at Little Miss Rockstar here…” Woo taunts, and he makes his way to you. He holds the camera up higher, flipping the camera so it was recording ont he front camera. Woo grins, moving his face and the camera just enough so it caught his face, and the mic buried in your cunt in the same frame. He stuck his tongue out in a playful manner.

“Such a dirty dirty little whore, using her mic to get off after such a long show…” He laughs. “How do you think Unnie would feel about this, seeing you use your mic for such a dirty thing?” Wooyoung has a shit-eating grin, and he suddenly grips your wrist, forcing you to halt your movements. You let out a whimper, the buildup of an orgasm that was forming in your abdomen had disappeared once again, leaving you with a growing sense of sexual frustration. ” See this, Unnie?” Wooyoung taunts, his grin wide and devilish. His hand lets go of your wrist, reaching and pulling the mic out of your leaky pussy. You let out a shuddered sigh as he pulls it out, feeling a sense of emptiness now. “You better hurry here, or else you won’t get a taste.”

A loud moan spills from your lips as Wooyoung’s tongue presses suddenly against your clit, giivng long laps and strides like he was a starving man. The hand holding the camera trembles as it tries to focus in on the lewd sight of Woo eating you out, your moans filling the room. He softly moans between your pussy, humping the couch so slightly to get any form of relief on his aching cock.

Seonghwa bit his lip softly at the erotic scene before him, and he finally begins to palm him aching cock through his jeans.

“N-Noona, fuck!” You cried out, your hand gripping his long dark locks of hair as he greedily eats you out, the metal ball of his tongue piercing playing with your clit with each flick. At some point, Woo hits end on the recording, and tosses the phone on the couch. “You’re so loud and wet for Noona. You like being humiliated like this, don’t you?” Seonghwa softly croons, a smirk on his face.

You can’t help but let out a whimper, as Wooyoung pulls away from your cunt, your juices glistening on his lips and piercing. The build up had once again been torn from you, and you had tears streaming down your face at this point. “N-Noona, Mommy, please, I-I can’t……” You cried out pathetically. Wooyoung tsks, shaking his head. “Nope, don’t try to play innocent now. You were the one being bad, this is just your punishment.” He brought his hand to his lips, wiping away the remainder of your arousal off his hand.

“Noona is correct. Bad pets don’t get to cum.” Seonghwa nods before making his way to you, his hand gently cradling your face. His thumbs gently wipe away your frustrated tears, and he makes a pout, patronizing you further. “Awh, is my Dove frustrated?” He croons, before his free hand wraps around the base of his cock, pumping himself slow and steady. “Well, too bad, baby. Open wide.” Seonghwa commands, and you sheepishly comply, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. “Good girl. Just stay like that for your Mommy and Noona.” Hwa nods in approval. He positions his cock as he pumps himself, having a direct target right on your tongue and lips.

Wooyoung rose ot his feet, his hand immediately wrapping around his cock, jerking himself off fast and quick. His cock also aimed right at you. This was humiliating. Your jaw is slightly burning, staying in this position as they jerk themselves off. The way they’re also staring you down like they’re taunting you further…

Wooyoung’s moans get loud and whiny, his hand moving quickly on his shaft. The pleasure builds up again in his spine. He couldn’t care less who could hear him. The sight of you with your tongue out, waiting for his cum was driving him further and further to the edge.

Hwa has soft, pretty moans spilling from his lips, his hand paying special attention to his sensitive tip. He tosses his head back in pure bliss, his Adam’s Apple bobbing slightly with each moan.

The first to cum was Wooyoung. He lets out a high-pitched whiny moan as he came, streams of his cum shooting and landing on your tongue and lips. You slightly jolt but recover quickly, letting him cum in your mouth as he so pleased. Some of it lands on your cheek, adding more ot this humiliation.

Seonghwa came not soon after, his cum also shooting on your tongue, a few spurts on your plush lips. The mixed taste of their cum fills up your senses, and for a moment, you close your mouth, getting ready to swallow.

But then-

“Do not swallow. Kiss Noona.” Seonghwa commands. Wooyoung looks rather surprised by this, but he does not hesitate for even a second.

He leans down, and his lips are eagerly pressed to yours in a passionate, needy kiss. You moan, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer. His teeth gently nibble at your lower lip, and you let him slip his tongue inside, the mixture of Hwa’s and Woo’s cum now mixing with yours and Woo’s spit.

Wooyoung pulls away, a trail of spit connecting yours and his lips. Woo grins, and carefully, he stuck his tongue out to reveal the sticky pearlescent mixture of cum and spit he snuck from your mouth, the ball tongue piercing glossy in its essence.

Wooyoung rose to his feet and let out a shivered moan as Seonghwa pressed his lips against his. Your eyes widen at the sight, the heat pooling between your legs getting even hotter and hotter. More of your juices spill out in response, feeling waves and waves of arousal coursing through your body. Seonghwa grips Woo’s bicep, his head tilted to gain better access into Wooyoung’s mouth. Woowoung moans even more, and you can see a glimpse of their tongues playing, exchanging the cum between their mouths.

Seonghwa pulls away from Woo, who is softly gasping for air. His cock was twitching and rock solid at such an unexpected encounter, but he would not be one to complain one bit. You didn’t miss the way Hwa’s also begun to harden, his cock jolting slightly. You softly swallowed, as Hwa turns his attention to you, leaning down so his head was right close to yours

“Open.” Seonghwa croons, and you comply, once again sticking your tongue out. There’s still the milky evidence of their cum in your mouth, and you waited, fully expecting his lips to come in contact with yours.

But Hwa had other plans..

Instead, he sticks his tongue out and spits the mixture of cum and spit on your tongue. Your tongue jolts again, and Seonghwa forces your mouth shut. “Now you may swallow, Dove.” He taunts, his words having a slight sadistic edge to them. Their cum mixed in with Woo’s, Hwa’s, and your spit created an interesting texture, one that, you admit, is looking forward to doing again. You slowly swallowed all of it, and Seonghwa smirked. “Good girl.” He croons, and he finally begins tugging off his clothes, one by one. He slips the top off with ease, the little studded jewelry on his nipples and belly button catching the light and shining so brightly. You found yourself staring at his ethereal beauty.

Being the jealous, needy Noona he was, Wooyoung couldn’t help but slightly whine, as you was giving Seonghwa all of your attention at the moment. He pulls you by your wrist, forcing you to rise to your feet, and his lips are then pressed against yours. Needy, desperate, everything.

You moaned softly, his teeth biting at your lower lip until it was swollen and raw. He slips his tongue inside, and your can feel the cool metal ball of his piercing playing and toying with your tongue.

He pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you and him from the passionate kiss. Eagerly, he pulls off his jacket, revealing his toned arms and shoulders.

“Sit on my face.” Wooyoung barks, leaving no room for argument. He lies down on the plush couch, propping one of the decorative pillows under his head for support. His long black hair spreads slightly behind him, and he looks up at me with expecting eyes. “Cmon. Noona wants a taste.”

You blush and comply, carefully straddling his chest, and moving upwards until your hips were hovering right over his face. Your knees waere planted right next to his head. He tsks and does a little spinning motion with his finger. “Face the other way.”

Oh.

You got off him for just a moment, turning 180 degrees, and carefully hovering again over his face. You could see the vanity mirror now, which was highlighting the erotic display now. Hwa smirks as your face flushes at the realization, with a soft hum. He’s pulled off all of his clothing, his cock hard and twitching. Wooyoung’s cock was in full display, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he wants you to do.

“Good girl…” Wooyoung coos, his hands gently pushing down on your back so your chest was pressed against his abdomen, your face head to head with his cock. His cock jolts slightly, some of his salty precum oozing against your cheek. His teeth sink into the soft flesh of your thighs, leaving marks anywhere he so pleased. Your legs trembled and ached at each bite against both sides of his face.

Carefully wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, Wooyoung lets out a shuddered moan, his hands gently gripping and kneading the soft cushion of your ass. “Fuck, just like that, for Noona..” He moans, and he begins to feast on your pussy, short impatient strokes of his tongue against your throbbing pussy.

You moan, your hands trembling as you tried focusing on pumping Wooyoung’s cock, his feral strides making it difficult to do so. Your lips carefully wrapped around the tip of his cock, feeling his cock jolt and twitch under your lips. Wooyoung is going feral, his tongue licking over your clit and folds like he’s a dying, starving man.

Your mind is spinning with all the pleasure on your aching cunt, your moans vibrating on Woo’s cock. You slowly lowered your head further, your tongue pressed against his shaft. Your hands moved to grip into Wooyoung’s thighs, your nails lightly digging into his jeans.

“Aren’t you such a good little thing for Noona and Mommy?” Seonghwa croons softly before walking towards you. The tip presses against your face, smearing some of his precum on your reddened cheek. “Don’t forget Mommy’s cock, love” He says in a singsong tone. You took your hand and wrapped it around the base of Hwa’s cock. He sighs as you tighten just enough for him, and he moves his hips as he fucks your fist. He collects some of his spit and spits on yout hand, lubricating himself with each thrusts. Each time he thrusts, the tip of his cock hits your face, more of his messy precum spilling on your cheek.

The door to the practice room suddenly opens, and you gag in pure shock. Your eyes accidentally locked in on San, standing in the doorway.

He is standing there, looking down at you with a surprised expression. It shifts over to a mischievous grin. He already has his jacket off, just wearing that tank top that shows off his large, muscular arms and shoulders. His cock is straining against his jeans.

“Noona sent me your show earlier.” San muses, slowly pulling his shirt off his body. His toned body was now in full display, with the belly button piercing he always hid now glimmering slightly and catching the light. “I’m a bit sad, Angel. You started having fun without your Unnie.” San has a little pout, his hand gently caressing the top of your head, and you whimper, your mouth still full of Wooyoung’s thick cock. “About time, Unnie. We thought you would miss using our little toy.” Seonghwa smirks, his pace not stopping one bit as he fucks your fist. San chuckles, his eyes gleaming with something. “No worries. Better late than never, right?”

Carefully, he walked over to your lower side, biting his lip as he watches Wooyung devour your pussy, the buttplug still inside of you. “Oh fuck. That’s so hot.” He moans.

Your moans are muffled as Woo plants his feet on the couch, and begins thrusting his hips upwards, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Wooyoung is still going crazy on your pussy, his tongue lapping all of the mess, his tongue thrusting inside your hole. “Sho good.” Wooyoung moans between your lips, completely lost in the pleasure. Having your sweet lips on his cock was amazing, but also tasting you come undone on his tongue was driving him mad.

San’s big hands gently grip your asscheeks, spreading them apart just a bit more to watch Wooyoung devour your pussy. “Oh, look at you. So wet and so perfect.” San coos gently, his hands caressing and kneading the soft flesh.

You couldn’t even respond if your had wanted to, little tears form in your eyes as Wooyoung face fucks you, Seonghwa has gripped your hair in a makeshift pony-tail, keeping your head steady. He’s still fucking your fist. A pornographic moan spills form his lips, the sight of Wooyoung’s cock buried in your mouth, the tears in your eyes, your hand wrapped around his own cock was becoming too much for Hwa to handle.

A muffled moan escapes your lips as San gently hooks his fingers underneath the ruby jewel buttplug base, leaning down to leave a bite on your buttcheek. “Look at you. Did you pick this one just for Unnie?” San purrs softly between your skin, and with a simple, gentle, and careful motion, he gently pulls on the plug. Your ass eagerly opens up, releasing the plug without any resistance. San pulls the plug out and tosses it somewhere on a towel.

“Don’t let her trick you.” Hwa lets out a shuddered moan. “She had other plans we were not aware of.” He smirks slightly, as your eyes widen at his words.

You tried to protest, and San lets out a soft velvety laugh. “Is that so? Well…” His hand wrapped around the base of his cock, San begins to pump himself slowly as his tongue makes its way… to your second hole. “Could he do this as good as us?”

Muffled moans leave your lips again as San greedily eats your ass out, his spit dropping and collecting over Wooyoung’s tongue, who was at this point, pussydrunk. He was tonguefucking you at this poiint, the metal ball of his piercing running up and down your velvety walls and making you lose your mind further.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as waves of pleasure coursed through your body, a powerful orgasm washing through you. You juices had spilled out and made a mess all over his face, as Wooyoung wanted so badly.

Wooyoung’s own moans are muffled between your lips. The room is filled with the soft shallow breaths of San and Seonghwa, their noises getting louder and needier.

Wooyoung’s thrusts became erratic, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and a whiny cry leaves his lips as he reaches his peak, cumming streams and streams of cum inisde your mouth. You gagged slightly, tears forming in your eyes as his cock hits the back of your mouth, his cum slightly leaking out from the corners of your lips.

San lets out a gutteral moan, moving his tongue away from your hole as he pumps his cock like a madman. He tosses his head back, and he spills his cum right on your pussy. Wooyoung greedily eats up the mixture of your juices and San’s cum, making him moan in response. “Fuck, Noona…”

Seonghwa lets out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard, lookign down at you as he cums. Streams of his cum land all on your face, and you shut one eye as his cum lands on your nose, forehead, and some on your cheeks and lips.

Swallowing Wooyoung’s cum, you slightly cough as Seonghwa finally lets go of your hair, pulling yourself off Wooyoung’s softening cock. It feels like every nerve in your body has been lit on fire, yet you insatiable need grows deeper.

“God, isn’t she just a good pet?” Wooyoung laughs, finally pulling his tongue away from your pussy. He reaches his hand and rubs your pussy slowly, before giving a slight slap. You let out a yelp and your face is burning a bit red. There were little beads of sweat on your body and forehead, and you’re softly panting.

“Come on, Pet..” Wooyoung pats your back, and you take the hint, getting off his body. Woo slithers out from behind you, whistling for San to follow. San obeys, leaving with Woyougn towards a backpack int he corner.

Seonghwa pushes you onto the couch gently, licking his bottom lip gently.His fingers gently scooped up the cum that had landed on your face. Seonghwa brings his fingers to your lips. “Lick my fingers clean.” He commands, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, Mommy.” You slowly stuck your tongue out, and you gently took his fingers in your mouth, sucking and licking up the cum. He pulls his fingers out to scoop up some more and brings it to you again. You suck them clean again, gazing up at Hwa with faux-innocence in your eyes. Hwa lets out a moan, biting his lip soft. “Oh fuck, look at you. Just the perfect little toy for us.”

He pulls his fingers out, and he immediately dips to his knees, his hands gripping your soft, trembling thighs. You tried to squirm ever so slightly, but Hwa’s grip is firm, his eyes looking up at you. “Won’t you let Mommy have a turn?” He hums, and a smirk forms on his face when you shyly nod.

“What a good girl…” He spreads your legs wide, and immediately buries his face into your pussy. You let out a strangled moan, your back arched against the couch. “M-Mommy!” You cry out. Seonghwa moans between your pussy, your taste sending him to another plane.

“My beautiful girl…” Hwa’s tongue lap over your sensitive clit, giving long strides. Your hands reach and gently grab his hair, more moans spill form your lips.

“M-Mommy… m-mommy..” Your eyes water as the overstimulation sets in, your hips bucking and jolting. He hums, and he buries his tongue inside your pussy. His nose is pressed right against your clit, and his hands move to your hips, guiding you to shamelessly ride his face.

The sound of a click caught your attention, and you looked up, eyes widiening.

Wooyoung is holding a camera, and San is adjusting the height of a tri-pod stand to be at the perfect angle to catch everything. Wooyoung sets the camera on the stand, his other hand wrapped around his cock..

“I hope you don’t mind if your Noona and Unnie record a special video, don’t you?” Wooyoung sneers slightly, a shiteating grin on his face.

Seonghwa pulls away from your pussy, shushing you softly as you whined once more, the orgasm ripped away from you again. “Don’t worry, my sweet Dove.” He kisses the inside of your thigh, before rising to his feet.

Once the camera was positioned and ready, Wooyoung gave a hungry stare, signaling to me he was ready to devour me.

“Is it ready?” San asks, hands twitching with excitement and anxiety. Wooyoung adjusts the camera one last time, stepping back and nodding. “Yep. It’s ready to go.”

Your face burns a bit red seeing the camera, meant to capture everything.

Wooyoung immediately shimmied out of his pants and boxers, his eyes locked right on you, a feral grin on his face. Seonghwa tsks in disapprovement, crossing his arms. “No, Noona. You have to wait your turn.”

“What?” Wooyoung stops for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed. San perks up for a moment, taking the change to step forward. Seonghwa shook his head. “You too, Unnie.” Wooyoung couldn’t help but whine, and even San had a bit of a pout, but ultimately, Mommy had the last say in this relationship. San and Wooyoung begrudgingly took their respective seats, sitting on either side of the camera recording.

“Now, my sweet Dove.” Seonghwa looks down at me, a smirk on his face.

You eagerly got in position, lying on the couch, your head on one of the soft pillows for support. His body hovers over yours, his fingers gently tracing and leaving fire in its wake. Seonghwa’s hands grip the back of your knees, pushing your legs apart to make space for his hips. Your legs in response wrapped around his hips. Once secured, he moves to cup your face, leaning in to gently kiss your lips. It was such a tender sweet moment, your arms wrapping around Hwa’s neck. His kiss was sweet, romantic, it made your tummy flutter. He gently pulls away, his eyes looking down at you with so much affection. Hwa then looks to the camera recording with a devious grin. And then-

You let out a strangled moan as Seonghwa suddenly buries his thick cock inside your pussy, your head tilted back against the pillow. It feels so fucking good, your head is spinning from all of the pleasure. Hwa lets out a moan, trying to cling onto the thread of self restraint, threatening to snap at any moment. You feel so fucking perfect, your pussy wrapped around his cock. He begins to thrust his hips sharply, his cock dragging against your velvety walls, and against your G-spot with each thrust.

Your tits bounce with each thrust, moaning and whining out as Seonghwa thrusts into you relentlessly, the camera catching every slutty noise that you and Hwa make. His balls slap against your ass with each thrust.

“Look at me, Dove.” Seonghwa commands, one of his hands letting go of yoru face to grip the armrest of the sofa. His hand still on your face grab you by your cheek harshly. You moan, tears forming in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Hwa’s gaze is powerful and dominant.

“You’re such a good pet. I could fuck you and use you all night, if I could.” He moans out, his cock plunging in deeper inside you. “M-Mommy, feels so good, Mommy...” You babble incoherently, and Seonghwa gently cradles half of your face as he thrusts with vigor. Your arms unwrap around Hwa’s neck, your nail accidentally digging into Hwa’s shoulder. He moans with delight, enjoying the sting of your nails on his skin. “Good girl. Keep scratching like that.”

A soft whiny moan accidentally escapes Wooyoung’s lips, and Seonghwa turns his head to see Wooyoung was gently rubbing the tip of his cock, trying to get a little bit of pleasure. San was biting his lip so hard it was about to bleed, but he wasn’t touching himself. His hands are in fists, resting on his thighs, straining so hard his knuckles are turning white.

Seonghwa tsks at Wooyoung, who stops his motions with a slight whine.

“Noona doesn’t seem to understand that she needs to wait her turn,” Hwa mutters, making direct eye contact with Woo. He squirmed in his seat, clearly hating the fact he was called out. “She will be forced to wait last.” He purrs in your ear, but you’re too cockdrunk to process exactly what he said.

Your hands claw at Hwa’s back desperately, your eyes watering as a bubble forms in your abdomen, the intensity rising with each thrust. “M-Mommy, wanna cum, wanna cum so badly-” You cry out, as Seonghwa returns his gaze to you, the hand on your face moving down to your clit. His fingers gently rubbed the bundle of nerves, and you let out another strangled cry. “Cum for Mommy. Show her just how much you love being her cocksleeve.” He purrs, leaning in and burying his face to your neck, sucking gently and leaving a bright red hickey. He then began peppering kisses all over, his subtle lipstick that he had worn for the show being left on your skin.

“M-Mommy!” You cry out, back arching against the couch, chest pressed against his, as the bubble in your lower abdomen pops, and an explosive orgasm washes over your body, making your brain go utterly white in pure pleasure.

Your walls eagerly clamp and suck his cock in deeper with rhythmic clenches, and Seonghwa’s thrusts get quicker, sloppier, grinding more and more of that sweet pleasure. He pulls himself away from your neck, which is littered with his hickies and kiss marks, and he tosses his head back, letting out the prettiest moan I’ve ever heard. The pleasure that had been forming in the base of his spine has finally tipped over, and with a moan, he cums deep inside, each thurst aimed only to milk more and more of his milky white seed out of him.

This was always Hwa’s favorite sensation. He could never get used to this.

He nearly collapses on top of you, his breathing labored, his arms the only thing holding him up.

Your breathing is also ragged, trying desperately to catch your mind again from such an explosive orgasm. You hadn’t even processed that Seonghwa had pulled out his softening cock, placing a sweet gentle kiss on your lips. Standing to his feet again, he looks down at you, having a bit of a tender, sweet smile. “You did so, so good for your Mommy. Now, it’s time to be good for your Unnie, yes?” He looks over at San. Wooyoung was slouched back against his chair, grumbling something. San perks up, and almost immediately gets up, his eyes gleaming with delight. Finally, his patience will be rewarded!

He carefully made his way to you, with his thick throbbing cock in full view. Once he was close enough, he leans in, and his big grabby hands were all over your body, squeezing and caressing every curve he could get his hands on. His hands snake behind you, and he kneads the soft flesh of your butt. San lets out a gutteral moan. He absolutely loves your thick booty, and he swore that just being able to squeeze it could make him cum on the spot. His lips pressed against yours, softly nibbling and biting on your sore, raw bottom lip.

Your body was still trembling and shaking from the pleasure. Your arms found their way wrapped around San’s neck. He lets out a moan between your lips, and his cock begun to grind against your wet folds, letting your juices and Hwa’s cum coat him for preparation.

“You’re so perfect for Unnie.” San moans, his tongue slipping between your lips to play with yours, exploring every crevice he could find.

“U-Unnie…” You couldn’t help but softly moan, the tip of his cock rubbing against your overly sensitive clit was making your head spin, your body stumbling down the thin thread of overstimulation.

“Let Unnie take care of you. I’ll take such good care of you.” He whispers between your lips, and he breaks the kiss. His big, strong hands gripped your hips, using his strength to manhandle you as he pleases. In an instant, you’re lying on the couch tummy down, your ass up in the air, right up against his cock.

San shuddered softly, taking just a moment to appreciate the sight. His hands immediately grip your butt, squeezing with delight. “Oh look at you..” San moans, his cock twitching, wanting nothing more than to just fuck you senseless already. Your back is arched and he pressed his chest flush against your back. One of his arms is wrapped right around your waist, and the other is right under your head, giving a cushion to rest your head on. You rest your cheek on his large forearm, San gently nuzzling his face to the back of your neck, kissing the skin tenderly.

“Fuck, you’re so good for Unnie. All of this… I love every bit of you, my Angel.” His grip around your waist tightens, letting out a gutteral moan as he thrusts his cock inside your pussy. A moan slips from your lips as his pace is deep and steady, each contact of his hips makes your butt jiggle with recoil. San softly groans in your ear, biting his lip so hard he might accidentally break skin again.

He’s losing his mind. San furrows his eyebrows, trying to focus on his pace. He wants to savor this, he wants to enjoy the feeling of being sheathed inside you, but he can’t. “Your sweet pussy… It’s making Unnie lose her mind…” San chuckles pathetically.

“U-Unnie!” You moan out as San finally begins to pick up his pace, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Each thrust plows deeper inside you, hitting a spot that you swore made you see stars in your eyelids. “F-Fuck, Love.” San moans. “You’re so good for me.”

Through dewy dazed eyes, you could look to your side to see Wooyoung was on his knees, tears formed in his eyes as his lips were wrapped around Seonghwa’s cock. Seonghwa lets out a soft hum, his hand gripping Wooyoung’s dark locks of hair. Slowly pulling Woo off, there was a trail of spit that was connecting Woo’s mouth to Hwa’s tip. Hwa lets go of his hair, caressing his head in a patronizing manner. “Noona needs to be better behaved.” Hwa softly mused, with Woo squirming slightly, a soft whine spilling from his lips.

“Does that turn on Angel?” San moans, his cock still driving like crazy deep inside you. “Y-Yes, Unnie.” You managed to moan as San gripped your hips and began to manhandle you once more. He makes you arch your back further, your butt even higher in the air. This new angle let San drive himself deeper inside youe wet cunt, hitting all your sensitive spots easily with his big fat tip.

“Unnie… U-Unniee…” You let out a cry, a little bit of drool escaping the corners of your mouth, accidentally spilling onto San’s forearm. “Awh, my Angel loves Unnie’s cock so much. She’s losing her mind…” San gently places a deep kiss against your cheek, his hips moving faster, signaling his peak is near.

Your hands reach up to San’s big arm, weakly clutching onto it for any means of support.

His hand on your hip lets go, and his gently run down your abdomen. Finding your clit, your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a strangled cry. “T-Too much, Unnie!-” The gentle rubbing of your overstimulated clit was making your head spin, and lighting your nerves on fire. His thrusts mixed in with this slightly painful pleasure was too much to handle, and you bit down on his forearm, another powerful orgasm washing over your body. Your nails dug into his arms, making San moan so prettily in your ear.

San couldn’t help but groan as you bit and scratched his arm. San loves the way your spasming walls milk him for all he’s worth, and with another moan, his cum spills deep inside, mixing in with Hwa’s cum from before. In a pleasure-filled haze, it barely dawns on you exactly how messy this had become.

San’s breathing is ragged; each little breath and whimper is right up against your ear to hear, his hand gently caressing and soothing your tummy. He mutters sweet praise in your ear. Even as much as San loves fucking you senseless, he loves the sweet tenderness after. He hopes, deep down, that you knew exactly how much he loves you.

“She’s so good for her Unnie, too.” Seonghwa breaks the tender silence, and San reluctantly lets go, pulling his cock out of your sweet wet pussy, still rock hard, however. He uses his strength one last time to roll me on your back, gently caressing your face with a lovely smile before getting up.

“M-Mommy, please?” Wooyoung then begs, biting his lip as he sits anxiously on the chair. Seonghwa raised his eyebrow, the left one with two studded piercings, looking down at Wooyoung. “I’ll be good for the rest of the night, please?” His eyes are big and pleading, like puppy-dog eyes. For a moment, you almost didn’t recognize this sweet, docile Wooyoung.

“Well, only because you begged so nicely.” Seonghwa croons slightly, and Wooyoung perks up, almost immediately making his way to you. Almost instantly, you are met with a dominant, needy kiss, his tongue immediately slipping in your mouth. His hands immediately reach for your breasts, massaging and giving a squeeze, moaning filthily in your mouth. Well, so much for docile Wooyoung.

“Noona’s gonna fuck you so good, she’ll make sure you forget everything except us.” Wooyoung pulls away, the look in his eyes screaming nothing but feral. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper as he grips your hips, pulling you to his hips. He grips your thighs, spreading them further and immediately positioning himself. He licks his top row of teeth with a grin as your trembling legs spread, and wrapped around his waist. His cock twitches like crazy against your cunt, eager to plunge in.

“Look at me Noona fucks you dumb.” His hand grips the couch, and you moan out as he thrusts his dick inside, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as each ball of his ladder piercing on his shaft rubs against your velvety walls, the pleasure so intense you’re utterly left speechless.

His pace is fast and rough, his hips slamming against your hips with each brutal thrust. Wooyoung lets out pornographic noises. Oh god, this was so fucking good.

His cock’s piercings were making your head spin, each rub against your walls made your head go white. All you could do was moan out like a cock-drunk whore. “N-Noona…”You moaned, legs trembling as your entire body began to feel the effects of being overstimulated, wanting to just squirm away from him and his overbearing pace.

His free hand moves to the smooth column of your neck, and he squeezes. You can feel the cool metal of his rings pressed against your skin, and a strangled moan leaves your lips, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your hand scramble to grip Wooyoung’s bicep. Wooyoung moans filtihly. He loves watching you come undone like this. The control he has over you makes his cock twitch even more.

His fingers apply pressure at the right spot, which makes little black spots form in your vision. “Noonaa… N-Noona…” You let out a choked cry, and the bubble that had formed in your abdomen without even realizing it exploded. Your orgasm has your head go pure white, your walls clamping desperately around his length, which makes Wooyoung let out the sluttiest moan you’ve ever heard. Your nails dug into his bicep, so hard little droplets of blood spilled. Not soon after, his thrusts get borderline-animalistic, pushing his cock deep against your cas he cums. It was a lot, Wooyoung moaning as his hip sslam against yours, aiming to drop all of it inside you. The cum from the past two rounds finally overflow out and spilling out of your spent, well-used hole.

“Oh fuck, look at that.” Wooyoung moans, his hand finally releasing your neck and peppering kisses all over, biting occasionally. You were gasping for air, vision slightly blurry. You whole body was trembling, legs shaking, chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Overstimulation has finally set in. Carefully, Wooyoung pulls his cock out, marveling at the sight of all the cum dripping out of your pussy. “Oh fuck, that’s so hot.” He moans in your ear. “You’re such a perfect cumdump.”

“We have the perfect pet, do we?” Seonghwa hums in agreement, and Wooyoung can’t help but let out a slight grumble, reluctantly letting go of you. He stood up, making space for Seonghwa to take the reigns once more.

Hwa gently walks towards you, pouting slightly at your shivering, used form. “You’re doing so well, baby. Do you think you can do one more round?” Hwa asks, his hand gently reaching out to cup your face. You gazed up at him, eyes dewy with unshed tears. Despite the fact you were extremely overly sensitive and overstimulated…

Hwa smirks as your nod is quick, almost desperately so. “My baby is just a needy whore, drunk on cock, isn’t she?” He purrs, and he takes a seat on the couch, legs spread and his cock in full view. “Come here, my sweet thing.” Hwa croons, and he smirks as you comply, legs trembling as you found yourself situated on his lap, his dick right up against your ass.

“Ride Mommy.” Seonghwa grips your hips, his thumbs gently rubbing the smooth skin. You bit your lip softly and with his help, you slowly lifted your hips, sinking right on his cock. Our moans are in sync, and almost instantly, Seonghwa planted his feet to the tile floor, thrusting up inside me. “Oh, my sweet Dove.” He moans delightfully, loving the way you’re crumbling on top of him.

Moans leave your lips, eyes shut as you tried to focus on the pleasure and not the slight pain from overstimulation and sensitivity.

Suddenly, you feel a pair of hands push down on your lower back, and your eyes shoot open, Seonghwa’s hands moving from your hips to wrap fully around your body. Your chest is pressed right against his. He halts his pace, his cock still buried deep inside. “Shhh, it’s just Unnie.” Seonghwa hums, his hand rubbing youe back gently.

“Unnie wants a taste.” San’s voice tremble slightly, taking a small bottle of lube, and squirting it on two of his fingers. He has to hand it to himself, he has a lot of patience. That patience is weaning thin.

He grips one of your buttcheeks, revealing your second tight hole, moaning slightly to himself. “Fuck!” He growls, and he smears the lube onto your hole, pushing inside carefully to ensure you were prepped and ready.

“U-Unnie…” You moan, your second hole gently squeezing around his fingers as he gingerly thrusts, San biting his lip as he feels the resistance melting away. His free hand squirts some more of the lube on his cock, pumping himself slowly to ensure he was fully lubriacted.

Pulling his fingers out of your hole, San grips your buttcheeks again, the thick tip of his cock gently prods at the hole.

“U-Unniee…” You moan out, Seonghwa rubbing gentle circles on your back, whispering words of praise as San pushes his thick lubricated cock inside yout tight hole, slowly thrusting. As the resistance slowly fades away, he takes the opportunity to push more of his cock inside, inch by inch.

You let out a strangled cry as Seonghwa began to thrust upwards again, setting a pace opposite of San’s. Each stroke of their cocks against your overly sensitive walls was making your head spin.

“Hey.” Wooyoung’s bark caught your attention, and with dazed eyes, you could barely process that he’s standing in next to you, his cock right against your lips.

Wooyoung couldn’t help but smirk as you obey without a second thought, slipping his cock between your lips. A loud slutty moan leaves his lips, his hand gripping your hair, and he begins to roughly fuck your face, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. You can feel the ridges and bumps of his ladder piercings against your tongue, the sensation driving you insane.

The room was full of slutty noises, all of your bandmates moaning as they used your body as they pleased. San grips your ass even tighter, plunging himself deeper inside your tight ass until he was bottoming out. Seonghwa moans as he thrusts upwards, each thrust rubbing against your swollen g-spot, and the tip hitting the back of your pussy and cervix.

Their cocks were moving agaisnt eachother in sync, which makes you, San and Hwa moan together. Both of them could feel the other’s cock thanks to the thin wall seperating your pussy and ass.

Your moans are muffled by Wooyoung’s cock, still facefucking you without any mercy. Wooyoung looks up to the camera with a devious grin on his face.

“Hey, see this?” He moans out, his free hand pointing at you still sucking him off. “This is your sweet little popstar, a slut backstage for her bandmates. Just a toy to be used by her Noona, Unnie, and Mommy.” Wooyoung grins, and his pace somehow got even more forceful, forcing you to deepthroat him with each thrust. Your nose presses against his pelvis, his slight happy trail right up against your nose.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, moans muffled as Seonghwa’s and San’s pace got rougher, utterly rearranging your insides. Your orgasm arrived swiftly and messily so, your juices squirted all on Seonghwa’s cock, the mess spilling down your thighs and on his body.

Fuck. Seonghwa wished he could have saw that.

Fuck. San is so grateful he saw that, moaning out at the filthy sight before him.

“Oh fuck, good girl.” Seonghwa moans out, thrusting upward as he shoots his cum deep inside, some of it spilling out and escaping the corners. A milky white ring forms around the base of his cock, each clench of your walls milking hin further.

San lets out a gutteral moan, spilling his cum deep inside your ass. He shudders, stalling himself insidejust to savor the sensation of your velvety walls clenching around him, milking him dry.

Woo lets out a slutty moan as he tilts his head back, finally dumping all of his cum deep inside your mouth. He stills his hips still deep inside, the cum spilling out of the corners of your mouth.

Tears of pure bliss were streaming down your face, and Wooyoung’s thumb gently rubs your tears away as you swallow his seed, coughing slightly as he pulls your face off his cock. God, you looked so sexy like that. “Good girl, such a good girl.” Wooyoung’s hand cups the side of your face, rubbing your cheek in a calming manner.

Seonghwa rubs gentle circles on your back, and San grabs your waist, massaging the muscles on your lower back. You gently closed your eyes, resting your head on Hwa’s chest, taking deep breaths, and just savoring the afterglow.

Finally, San slowly pulls his softening cock out of of you, some of his milky white seed spilling from your used ass. Seonghwa lets go of your shivering body, and grips your hips to help you off his cock, the past few rounds accidentally spilling out as a result. San immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. You in response raised your arms, andweakly wrapped around him, letting San hold you close as Woo and Hwa began to put their clothes on. You watched as Wooyound slipped on his boxers and jeans, zipping himself up like this had never happened. But of course, you know what happened. Seonghwa puts on his long-sleeved shirt, fixing his chains and jewelry. Wooyoung then begins to tear down the camera. These two had a quite a bit to clean up before leaving on the tour bus.

“How are you holding up?” San interrupts your train of thought, looking down at you. “We weren’t too much, were we?” He whispers , concern etched on his features as he gently peppering kisses on your cheek. You couldn’t help but giggle slightly at his affection.

“I’m fine, promise. I feel exhausted but satisfied,” You reply earnestly, looking up at San with a dazed smile. You rest your head on his shoulder, letting San grip tighten around you.

“That’s good.” San hums slightly, and he gently sets you back down on the couch, Wooyoung half-hazardly tossing San his clothes. Wooyoung gently handed you yours. “Get dressed, (Name). Manager is a bit pissed at us…” Wooyoung rubs the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle.

San stands up to put his clothes on, and he looks down, chuckling slightly as he watches you struggle to put on your clothes, extremely sleepy and sore. He doesn’t blame you. A protective instinct washes over him, and he reaches out to you “Here, let me help you…” He kneels, and he helps you get your bralette and tank top on your body, placed nice and snug.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he saw the mess still leaking out of you, clicking his tongue. “That won’t do… You’ll ruin your pretty panties..” A mischievous grin forms on his face, and his big hand grips your hips, spreading your legs a bit wider. You let out a tiny whimper, as he places his face right next to your swollen wet cunt, the milky essence of what they’ve done earlier in full display.

San looked up into your eyes, waiting silently for a confirmation, and when you gave him a nod, he immediately leaned in, his tongue pressed right against your entrance.

A soft moan spills from your lips as San greedily eats the cum out of your swollen, overstimulated pussy. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut as he devoured your pussy, his spit mixing with your juices making an even bigger mess.

“U-Unnie, can’t… Too much...” You managed to whine out, your hand gently gripping his dark locks of hair.

Finally, San pulls himself away from your pussy, and immediately pushes his lips to yours, the initial shock allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth.

All of the cum he collected gets pushed over to your mouth, plus the taste of your juices were making your head spins and setting your body aflame.

San pulls away, softly gasping for air, a mischievous kitty-like grin on his face. “The mess is all cleaned up now.”

You swallowed up all the cum, and you slightly roll your eyes, a smile on your face, and a soft giggle leaves your lips.

“Come on, guys. Hongjoong is pissed.” Wooyoung whines, in his hand the microphone, the condom already discarded. He’s twirling your buttplug in his hands, making your face flush. “Woo, put that away!” You whine, burying your hands in your face. He laughs but obeys, slipping it into his pocket.

Hwa has a gentle smile, watching the lighthearted banter between you. Moments like these were always his favorite.

With San’s help, you finally get fully dressed and ready to go. He lifts you in his strong arms, carrying you out of the practice room.

All four of the bandmates make their way deeper backstage, a pissed off Hongjoong waiting for them by the exit.

“You guys need to hurry and get on the bus now,” Hongjoong barks, pointing at the tour bus that was teal blue. It was running and ready to go, the door wide open.

“Sorry! We got a bit caught up with fans.” Hwa replies, his voice as smooth as honey. Hongjoong grumbles something under his breath and walks to the bus. The four follow after, gently walking up the steps inside.

The inside of the tour bus was always cool, the AC always on full blast. It oftentimes smelled like a mixture of lavender and sweat.

There were six seats in the front near the driver’s seat, and the bunk beds were towards the back of the bus, alongside two restrooms and showers. It was rather cozy, a place you all had become very accustomed to. Cramped? Most definitely.

Tonight, however, your bandmates didn’t feel like splitting up and sleeping in the usual bunk beds.

Seonghwa pulls the couch out, creating a bed big enough to harbor all of you. Wooyoung lights up as he sees this, quickly rushing to his cubby to grab his pajamas. “Everyone needs to hurry! I want cuddles!” He barks, immediately rushing into the bathroom for a quick shower and skin care.

A few moments later, Wooyung emerges, his black dark hair damp and messy, wearing just a black tank top and plaid pajama pants. His face was bare and smooth, all of the makeup removed.

Seonghwa chuckles slightly at Wooyoung practically pushing San into one of the empty shower rooms, whining up a storm. “Here, Dove, let me help you.” Legs still sore from before, Seonghwa helped you get into the bathroom, offering you his arm like a gentleman.

The shower water was just hot enough, and you sighed softly, body leaning into Seonghwa’s frame. He looks down at you and hums softly, gently massaging some shampoo into your scalp.

“I love you,” Hwa whispers in your ear, a sweet, tender smile on his face. His fingers gently massage the shampoo in your head, and you let out a sigh, closing your eyes as you embrace the soft, tender moment. “I love you too. I don’t know what I’d do without you or the others.” You confess back.

He smiles, gently rinsing the shampoo off your hair. Once your hair was rinsed, he gently raked some conditioner into the bottom half of your hair, getting any tangles out.

Seonghwa places a chaste kiss on your cheek, and your can feel his smile beneath your skin. “You and the others… Are truly the light in my life.” He whispered, turning off the shower once all of the soap suds were washed off your bodies.

With his help,you get out of the shower, and Seonghwa sits you down on the toilet seat, using a blowdryer to help you dry your hair. You couldn’t help but giggle as he brushed out your hair until it is all nice and dry.

After you and Hwa both got dressed, brushed your teeth, and done your skincare, It was finally time for bed.

“Let’s go.” Seonghwa hums, gently holding you close as we walk out of the bathroom, the light turning off automatically.

Wooyoung was lying on the plush couch bed, his eyes looking up to see you, and he grins. “Come on! It’s bedtime!” He whines, and you can’t help but chuckle, making your way into the bed with him. Almost immediately, Wooyoung wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight to his body.

“Don’t hog her,” San whines slightly, carrying a pile of blankets and pillows in his arms. He unfolds a giant comforter, placing it over your and Woo’s bodies. Woo grins, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Well then, you two better hurry.”

Seonghwa watches with a certain fondness in his eyes, watching San get under the blankets, his arms wrapped around your waist. San and Woo bicker slightly, causing you to roll your eyes ever so slightly. With his long, deft fingers, Seonghwa turns off the lights in the tour bus, and only the soft glow of the overhead lights in cyan color became the only source of light here.

Carefully, Seonghwa made his way on the bed, snuggling in right behind you, his arms around your waist. San grumbles something about not having space, and Woo whines when San pushes Woo to sneak in between him and you.

After a lot of complaining and shifting, the position has changed to you on your back, Wooyoung hugging you and resting his head on your chest, semi squishing you. San was to your left, arms wrapped around you, Seonghwa on the right.

The bus finally began to make its move, driving the band back to home town. The tour was finished, and you were all heading home.

A few moment stuff have passed, and Seonghwa and San were already knocked out. San was nuzzling his face into your neck, Seonghwa gently holding your hand in his. Wooyoung, however, was still up, his big eyes looking up at you. It was a bit difficult to keep up this staring contest, your eyelids were getting heavy.

“Hey, (name), I need to tell you something.” He whispers, like he’s afraid to wake up San and Hwa.

“What?” You whispered back, and passing car headlights that shone in the window illuminated his face for just a moment, and you could see his sly grin. “I sent your videos to Mingi.” He responds, his finger trailing along your arm.

Mingi… Mingi was the fifth member, who had to go on hiatus for a broken wrist but has been better since about a few days ago. Your heart clenches at the reminder that your fifth guy has been in so much pain all by himself. At least his wrist is healed now, and Mingi can practice with you guys as soon as you are back home.

“What did he say?” You softly mused, and Wooyoung grinned wider.

“...He said that when you get home, Princess is going to devour you whole.”

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez x you #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #san x reader #san smut

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