#i need to tease him for an hour minimum

[strangerstilinski]

not to be a wh*re but i want to teasingly lick and suck at every inch of steve's cock until my lips are chapped and sore and my mans is a whimpering mess, ready to grab me by my hips and throw me back onto the bed so he can finally sink into my pussy and fuck me like a needy animal

[loveanddeepthroat]

Come Home

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - Sylus has headed out to deal with some business, leaving you concerned for him as he doesn’t return when he told you he would. Fluff and a bit of angst. Sylus and MC aren’t yet in a relationship.

Word count - 2k

A/N - Hi! This is my first little one shot for LADS, and I hope you enjoy it. I do accept requests and look forward to writing more for this fandom 🖤

It had been hours since you last heard from him.

You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t need to worry. That he was more than capable and has always returned in one piece. That your worry is wasted on him anyway, considering the fact that you weren’t even supposed to like him.

But you felt sick.

It was almost impossible not to be concerned. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he has always been reachable. You’ve tried his phone so many times that the battery eventually gave up on your futile attempts and went to sleep—which is what you should be doing at this hour. 

Mephisto had accompanied him on his outing, Luke and Kieran staying at the base with you under Sylus’s orders. They didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that it was currently three hours past the time Sylus had told them he’d be back. They know him better than you do, but their constant reassurance did little to soothe the panic starting to show.

“Please,” you practically beg. “I have this awful feeling that something has happened to him. Please go and look for him.”

Kieran groaned at her, tired of having to repeat himself once more. “We already told you.”

“Boss’s orders are non-negotiable,” Luke chimes in from where he’s lounging in an armchair.

“He’d have our heads as soon as we walked out the door.”

You were becoming more irritated each second by their nonchalant attitude. They didn’t even seem to give a shit, and you weren’t currently in the right mindset to delve into why you gave so much of a shit.

He was a criminal. A man who had such questionable intentions and motives that you didn’t even want to know the bare minimum of what he got up to whenever he headed out alone.

If something had happened to him, however, you wanted names.

As poorly as your acquaintance with him had begun, you found him to be more intriguing with every moment spent in his presence. His likes and dislikes, his attentive nature whenever you’re around, the way he chooses a vinyl record based on the type of mood he’s in—even the way he dresses has you analysing his every six feet and two inches of pure, solid muscle.

He wasn’t bad on the eye, especially when he was looking at you. You couldn’t fully figure it out, but there was a very subtle tenderness to his presence when he was around you. Subtle in a way that didn’t overshadow his ability to be the biggest asshole you’d ever met.

“If you keep pacing like that then I’m going to throw up,” Luke complains.

You shoot him a harsh glare. “If you don’t like it then get out and find your boss,” you grit back.

With an exaggerated huff, he pulls himself out of his seat, stretching his arms over his head. You feel a glimmer of hope, only for it to be shot down almost immediately. “I’ll let you know if I pass by him in my dreams,” he teases, walking out of the lounge and towards his own room.

You wanted to drag him back and push him out of the front door, but the man could probably put you to sleep with a snap of his skilled fingers. Instead, you growl angrily as his chuckles sound from the hallway.

Kieran stood up, too, mimicking his twin with his stretching. He paused for a moment, and you waited for his addition to his brother's teasing.

“He’ll be back,” he assured, surprising you. “If he’s not back by morning, we’ll figure something out. Just go to sleep.”

He doesn’t wait for a response from you as he follows after Luke, both of them turning in for the night. Sleep sounded like pure bliss, but you weren’t going to be able to do so.

You couldn’t even sit down, your legs automatically taking you around every single piece of furniture so many times that you were starting to get dizzy. 

“Please come back,” you chanted quietly to yourself quietly, if only to keep your pacing on track and your mind alert. 

“Please come back. Please come back.”

You weren’t sure how long it had been, but as soon as you heard the front door, you bolted for it on unsteady legs.

He came in quietly, which was completely overshadowed by your crashing into things on your way to get a visual on him. You practically fell through the door that led to the entry hall, where he looked only mildly bewildered and wholly amused.

There were no visual signs of any injury, but light blood splatters dotted across his white shirt, indicating an altercation. Mephisto sat happily on his shoulder, cawing as soon as he laid his mysterious little red eyes on you. The damn bird was never too happy whenever you were around.

Sylus raised an eyebrow at you. “Expecting someone?” 

That asshole.

He dropped off the face of the earth for hours, and had the audacity to greet you with sarcasm. 

Before your brain could warn you about the threat of putting your hands on him, you sprang forward, striking his chest with the palm of your hand. Then again. And again.

It was pathetically weak from your exhaustion, and he didn’t so much as blink as you assaulted his blood-spattered shirt. Mephisto, however, took to fighting back immediately, pecking at your hands and screeching.

Sylus shooed him away quickly, and the mechanical crow reluctantly took his leave. He proceeded to just stand there as his winged companion flew away, entirely unbothered by your outburst.

Your movements were quickly faltering, the already feeble slaps to his torso becoming far and few between. Still, he did not move. Did not speak. He was the most feared man in the N109 Zone, and he was letting you lash out on him.

Your hand finally stopped on the lapel of his coat, gripping it for a second to catch your breath. He waited for you to finally take a step back, your arms crossing over your chest immediately so you could fully close in on yourself. You were certain that your little outburst was going to bring some repercussions.

Unable to fight it, your bottom lip started to tremble. You had been walking around that lounge for so long that you had convinced yourself he was not coming back. That the wrong person had finally found him and gotten the better of him.

And you just know what he would’ve said if you indulged him in that speculation. What a silly little thought, sweetie.

He closed the space between you, your head automatically dropping to avoid his crimson gaze. You couldn’t bear it, the anticipation of what he was going to do. Your ass was likely headed back to Linkon on foot.

Warm fingers curled beneath your chin, lifting your gaze back up to his. He was towering over you, but you strangely didn’t feel intimidated. All you could feel was his warmth, and your wave of emotions crashing into their withering barrier.

His face gave nothing away as he studied you, still holding your trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you finished?”

He didn’t ask it sarcastically. He was giving you an opening. If you weren’t, he’d allow you to resume until you got it all out of your system.

But you were done, your arms feeling like jelly to the point that crossing them was taking a big effort from you. You nod, feeling wetness pooling in your eyes. This all felt ridiculous. He didn’t owe you phone calls or explanations, you both barely considered each other friends. 

The surprisingly soft pad of his thumb brushed gently across your shaking lip, his eyes following the movement. “I’m sorry.”

In any other circumstance, those two words would have shocked you enough to make you fall over. But you were a little too far on the delusional side of exhaustion, your body running on the fumes of your panic.

Your eyes flicker away, the wetness tipping over the edge and dripping off of your lashes. He turned your drifting head back to him to lock eyes with you again. He never did like it when you broke his gaze.

“Things got a bit out of hand,” he explained quietly, not needing an explanation for why you were so upset. “You shouldn’t worry.”

“I wasn’t,” you lie, earning an amused chuckle from him.

He brushed his knuckle across your cheek to rid you of your tears. “No? Why else would a kitten get her claws out, then? Did Luke and Kieran forget to feed you?”

You scoffed at his teasing, following his lead back into the ease of your strange companionship. “They’re terrible babysitters,” you say, sniffling away the last of your upset. 

He smirked, moving his hand to cup the back of your neck. He pulled you towards him, embracing you gently with a deep inhale. You almost swore he was smelling your hair, but you shut that thought down. It was far too complicated for such a tired mind to dwell over.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve both embraced, but this instance did feel quite different. It felt comforting, rather than nerve wracking. Nobody embraces a man like Sylus without at least a modicum of fear beneath the surface.

“You could have called,” you whispered. “Or…or at least answered my calls.”

He sighed, the blow of breath tickling your hairline. “There isn’t a good signal where I went tonight,” he explains. “I should have mentioned that. I didn’t want to call once I did have service in case you were sleeping. I apologise.”

An overwhelming warmth filled your chest, different to the one emanating off of his body. You look up at him, lifting a hand to his forehead. He humours you by allowing it, his eyes trained on yours as you felt the cool skin beneath the hair falling over his face.

“Are you coming down with something? You’ve apologised to me twice now,” you say, half serious.

He didn’t laugh or tease, his face slipping back into that easy nonchalant expression. “I assure you, I’m not coming down with anything. I could ask you the same thing, though. Since when did you become a worrier, kitten?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. It was something you yourself had to figure out. Caring for him wasn’t on your bingo cards when you first met. If anything, the very first day you met, you’d have been relieved if he hadn’t returned.

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmur, his smirk returning at your half-assed response.

“I’ll try, but I do get attached,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. He looks as though he’s contemplating something, and it takes a moment before he speaks again. “I’ll get us some better communication devices. Something you can carry around that I can alert you on.”

A slight sense of guilt washed over you. “No, it’s okay. You don’t need to be concerned about my insecurities, I shouldn’t be keeping tabs on you.”

Sylus shook his head, his mind already made up. He taps a finger against your temple. “My concern about what goes on in there is for me to deal with. If some better technology eases your troubles, then it eases mine too.”

There it was. That side of him that kept you so very intrigued and made you feel a sense of…home? He often used words that didn’t m quite mean the same as his intentions, but you could see it in him.

He cares.

He rubs a firm hand up and down your back before turning you around, lightly pushing you away from the front door.

“It’s about time we got some sleep,” he says, barely above a whisper. 

You let him guide you through the halls, his lips dropping to your ear as he whispered again.

“Feel free to monitor me.”

[poguehearted77]

Wild Child

summary: after being sent away to boarding school for being a wild child you're finally back and celebrating your return in the only way you see fit.

smut: pool party, ragers, drug use (alcohol, vapes n weed), size kink, Rafe is cocky, mentions of old flings, manhandling, hot tubs, they do it on her parents' bed, rough sex, step-mom slander, reader is such a flirt n a tease, curvy reader, dom! rafe, bratty! reader, skinny dipping, mentions of body shots, choking, spanking (like once).

The morning sun was ascending high into the sky when you finally managed to get yourself out of your king-sized bed, fit for someone of your status and your parents' financial standing.

Your socked feet took padded steps towards your window where you overlooked the hills of figure eight. This was the first time you'd looked out your bedroom window in years. With a deep inhale a soft smile etched its way across your lips. You were finally home, and you had the house all to yourself. Or so you thought.

Your ears pick up on muffled indistinct chatter that managed to travel from the kitchen, down the halls up the elaborate staircase and into your room. Quickly, you headed for the source of the voices and were disappointed to see your dad and his wife plaything, Maria, conversing over coffee at the kitchen island.

"I thought you said the Jet leaves at dawn? What are you guys still doing here?" You try not to sound too curious, arms crossing naturally with your inquiry. With a clearing of his throat, your dad speaks up, "You only just came back two nights ago. Maria and I just don't think it's the right time to leave you alone for the weekend."

You scoff, "Why? You still don't trust me after what happened last time? Get over it, I'm twenty-one now, you can trust me." As you walked over to the fridge for a glass of water, you heard a muted exchange of ideas behind you.

"You can't expect us to forget about all the damage you caused. We still haven't found anyone to repair my crystal vases." You take a long sip, trying to swallow your toxic thoughts with the water.

She thinks she can just waltz up and down the house with that huge ring on her finger and think that her opinion carries any value to you.

You took a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile, pitching your voice to become as sweet as honey.

"I can never apologize enough for what I did back then, but how will I ever earn your trust if you don't give me the chance." Your doe eyes land on your father, specifically his weakened composure.

You're about to break him, you can see it.

He exhales, all the air escaping through his nostrils.

Broken.

He glances down at his watch, "Fine, but if you throw another party so help me god Y/n you'll never see grass again." You play it cool, thanking him with a simple hug and completely disregarding Maria before you make your way back upstairs.

It's as though a weight had been lifted off your chest. You needed them out of the house, you'd been planning this party since you got back and made sure all the guests knew to keep it on the down low, just until they were gone.

The hours fly by, and you hardly keep track of time as you and some of your long-time friends set up the house for the party that you shouldn't be hosting, but you're Y/n Sinclair. Parties are your thing.

"Macy, you let the people in, kay? I'm gonna go get changed." The sun was beginning to set and the music was already blasting, vibrating over the marble floors of the house. Every lyric was punctuated with a shaking of the speakers that could be felt even outside.

The neighbours hated to see you coming.

You know your dad's jet was en route to Fiji and he wouldn't be able to reach you until he landed which wasn't for another six hours at minimum but by then the damage will be long done and far too late to stop.

You make your way up the stairs, the bass thumping through the house and vibrating beneath your feet. As you step into your room, your reflection catches your eye, excitement sparking in your gaze.

With a quick flick of your wrist, you reach for the strappy black and red two-piece, slipping it on, the cool fabric hugging every curve just right. Each strap crisscrosses elegantly, bold yet balanced, making you smile at how perfectly it all came together.

Next, you grab the sheer cover-up, wrapping it loosely around your waist so it drapes with a hint of movement, a playful edge that sways with you. You run your fingers through your curls, scrunching them gently to bring out their bounce, each coil framing your face in soft waves. Reaching for your lip gloss, you swipe it carefully over your lips, catching the light with a glossy shine.

One last look, and you’re ready, your heart beating in rhythm with the music below. The speakers are already blaring, the energy practically calling you back down. You step out with a final tousle of your curls, ready to join the night.

The energy crackles through the backyard as you make your way to the top of the outdoor staircase. The sun has slipped beneath the horizon, casting a dusky glow over the massive pool below, illuminated by floating lights that shimmer across the water.

The bar is buzzing with people grabbing drinks, and in the corner, the foam pit is already filling up, laughter and splashes mixing with the heavy beat of the music.

A neon sign hangs across from the bar, glowing boldly against the evening sky: The Queen of Kildare is Back. You grin, amused at the sight of it knowing it was 100% Macy's doing, and take a step down. Conversations hush, replaced by the roaring blast of excitement as heads turn your way. Hundreds of people, from familiar faces to those you only vaguely recognize from your past in Figure Eight, pause and look up, anticipation brimming in their eyes.

As you descend, your cover-up billows behind you, revealing the bold lines of your black and red two-piece. The crowd’s reaction is instant, erupting into cheers, whistles, and applause that echo across the yard.

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n" They chant and you laugh. Every step closer to the party, you feel the atmosphere thicken, charged with that infectious blend of excitement and admiration. By the time you reach the bottom, someone’s already handing you a drink, while friends rush over to pull you in for hugs and greetings, their voices nearly drowned out by the music and shouts.

"Y/n Sinclair, s'Been a while."

There's a voice all too familiar addressing you from behind, prompting you to pivot to come face to face with a much taller Rafe than your brain could recall.

"Rafe Cameron. Long time no see." He goes in for the hug, your arms reaching over his broadened shoulders while his longer ones wrap around your waist before pulling back. He not so subtly checked you out, his tongue darting out over his lips briefly as he took you in and you did the same.

The buzzed hair sharpens his features, you think. Making his eyes seem darker, more intense, as they focus on you. His open linen shirt falls loosely over his frame, giving glimpses of his toned chest and the subtle gleam of a thin chain resting against his skin.

The shirt flutters with the breeze, barely hanging on his shoulders, hinting at the strong lines of his arms and drawing your eyes down to his relaxed, dark swim trunks.

He’s saying something, leaning slightly toward you, and his voice cuts smoothly through the bass of the party. Your eyes wander back up to his face, catching the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he knows he’s caught your attention.

"You look good, too good. How long's it been?" It's hard for you to think with the heat of his gaze on you, but you don't falter, never surrendering to this never-ending game between the two of you.

"About 3 years." He hums, the way he looks at you, casual yet purposeful, makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, every sound around you fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the way he looks right at you, but you remind yourself to focus.

Rafe looks around the scene, eyes lingering over the wet t-shirt contest and then the game of chicken being held in the pool while others lounged on the various floaties or indulged in ungodly amounts of alcohol at the bar. As he does so, the pungent scent of weed drafts across your nostrils.

"Your old man know you're hostin' tonight?" You had to laugh, "Oh please, like he would ever let me have any kind of fun while he's in town. He and the skank are in Fiji."

The slight smirk that etches over his perfect lips taunts you. "So the house is yours?" He leans in, a little closer, closing the gap between you. "Until he comes back and banishes me again," You place a confident hand against his chest, pushing him away, "But for now, I'm here to party, and you should be too."

With that said you walk away from him, letting your hips sway with seduction radiating with each step. Rafe lets his thumb and fingers stroke over his jaw, feeling the weight of the pressure you'd just applied.

God, it was good to have you back.

The party raged on, slowly approaching its peak, body shots were going on at the bar, girls were doing lines in the bathrooms and the guys had insisted on a drunk game of volleyball in the pool.

Rafe took a break from the events of the party and watched from the sidelines on the couch, taking another hit of the vape that someone had passed to him, he's not sure he can remember who, and it wasn't relevant anyway.

The only person he had his sights set on is you. Watching you have the time of your life with your friends on the platform in the middle of the pool. Your little group, clearly intoxicated danced carefree while you'd begun to put your hands on the ground and throw your ass in circles.

Rafe choked, sitting up, some smoke coming through his nostrils at the interrupted airflow. He leaves his shirt behind on the couch with the abandoned vape, just as he heads for the pool topped hands him a beer which Rafe accepts before he gets in.

Maintaining a straight face as his body acclimatizes to the cool water he's almost immediately swarmed and roped into a round of whatever the current pool game was.

His icy gaze looks up to the center of the pool where you once were but are now nowhere to be found. "Looking for someone?" Your voice was mocking and he was grinning before he even turned around.

"I am actually." With little ripples in the water, he steps towards you maintaining a respectful distance that was driving you insane. "I was looking for someone to join me at the bar," He puts on a convincing facade but you roll your eyes, feigning innocence.

"Let me know if you find her," He slowly steps towards you and step back, "Don't play dumb with me, Y/n." Your plush lips form a gut-wrenching pout, "What do you mean?" Another step forward, another one back. The cycle repeats itself until he has you backed up against the edge of the pool.

Rafe’s hands find your waist, and before you can react, he’s lifting you effortlessly, placing you on the edge of the pool. You're reeling at the slutty display of his sheer strength.

Your legs dangle, brushing against his chest, and he steps closer, slotting himself right between them. His hands rest on either side of you, his arms framing you in as he looks up with that sly grin, every bit as teasing as you are.

“Always out here playin' games, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low, a quiet rasp just for you. “Gotta say, I respect it—always sticking it to your old man, doing your own thing.” He leans in, his gaze drifting down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Not many people around here have the guts for that.”

You scoff lightly, though your heart skips as his gaze lingers on you, intense and challenging. “Oh, please,” you tease, rolling your eyes. “Since when do you care about any of this?”

A quiet laugh slips from him as his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles along your thigh. “You think I haven’t been paying attention to you all these years?” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“You might’ve been gone a while, but don't think I forgot all those nights we had our fun.” His words hang heavy between you as he pulls back slightly. Now his hand rests on your waist, his voice dropping lower.

He tilts his head, studying you with that familiar glint of mischief. “Now that you're back, I think we should relive some of our traditions, for old time's sake,” he says, leaning in until his lips brush against your jaw, light and teasing, close enough to make your pulse race. He pauses, his thumb skimming your cheek, his lips hovering just above yours, waiting. “But don’t act like you don’t want this as much as I do.”

Before you can snap back, his mouth claims yours, the kiss charged with all the years of pent-up tension and that all-too-familiar heat. His hands slide up to cradle your face as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepens, and when he finally pulls back just enough to catch his breath, he watches you with a smug, knowing grin.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your lips, his thumb tracing your jaw as if memorizing every inch. “That look you get right before we make a mess of things. I knew it—you missed this just as much as I did.”

If only someone could recount how the two of found yourselves stumbling up the stairs towards your room, your soaked sheer cover-up left forgotten somewhere in the house after Rafe pulled it off of your frame.

"Shit-- Rafe," your teeth dug into the flesh of your bottom lip as you reached to open your bedroom door, horrified to see two other people had monopolized it. They hadn't even noticed the door was opened so you quickly closed it.

"What the fuck, I thought everyone knew my room was off limits." With a quick scan, you noticed items were hanging off almost all the guest rooms in the hall letting others know the room was occupied.

"Shit, there's nowhere else to go in here?" You think quickly on your feet before rushing off to get something before returning with a key in your grip.

Rafe pulls you close with a smirk as you clutch the key to your father’s room, the gleam in your eyes daring him to follow. “Breaking all the rules tonight, aren’t we?” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with approval. His hand slips around your waist as you unlock the door, both of you glancing down the hall to be sure no one’s watching.

You twist the handle and push open the door, and his hand slides down to squeeze your hip, pulling you against him. “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he whispers against your ear, his lips grazing your skin, sending a thrill down your spine.

Once inside, you barely have a chance to lock the door before he has you pressed up against it. His lips are on yours, urgent and fierce, his hands roaming over your body with possessive ease. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he breathes between kisses, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your waist as he lifts your top, letting it fall to the floor. “Thought I’d forgotten?” you tease.

Rafe just about growls, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone, his hands sliding lower as he backs you towards the bed. His fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms, tugging them down with a smirk that sends heat rushing through you.

Your heart races as you feel the cool, forbidden sheets beneath you, the thrill of defying every rule and having Rafe look at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted. His hands slide up your thighs, lips trailing down your neck as he leans over you. “You know,” he murmurs, voice heavy with desire as he takes in the sight of you sprawled out before him, “I always knew you were trouble. Guess that’s why I can’t stay away.”

With a smirk, he leans in, his lips brushing over yours as his hands explore, both of you savouring the thrill of being tangled up in each other once again.

"Look at these perfect fuckin' tits." He curses, big hands cupping your breasts, kneading them and rolling your nipples between his index and thumb. Your back arches slightly with a gasp, chest pressing up into him and he laughs.

"Still so sensitive here, angel? Some things never change." He reminisces and you roll your eyes, "Fuck off, Rafe." With the blink of an eye, his much larger frame was caging you in from above, his bulging biceps giving him an erotic juxtaposition in comparison to your head.

Balancing himself on one arm he slinks his palm around the expanse of your throat with a weighted pressure. "Been gone so long you forgot your manners? Mm? That's fine, I'll be sure to fuck some sense back into you."

Your eyes flutter shut at his filthy words as you feel his hand move and begin to work you between your legs. "Your pussy's fuckin' soaked--shit." He hisses, gaze hungry and his body acts on his thoughts faster than you can register.

A particularly loud moan slips from you as you feel his tongue skillfully lap over your folds, splitting you open as the warmth of his tongue protrudes into your core. "Yes, fuck! Please, don't stop Rafe." You moan, one hand reaching down to hold him by the hair and it hits you that he'd shaved it all off.

You let out a frustrated gruff, both hands fisting the sheets while you're forced to feel the vibrations of his sick laugh running through you at your dramatics. Even the tip of his nose had been covered in your slick, your juices running down his chin as he ate you out like a man starved.

He wouldn't be surprised if they could hear you from outside, but he knows everyone is far too high, too drunk or both to hear you. It wasn't long before your legs were beginning to shake and came with his name falling from your lips over and over like a prayer.

Taking deep breaths to recover from debatedly the best orgasm you've ever experienced, Rafe walked over to the far wall, out of sight, doing something you couldn't see before returning.

Without speaking he scoops you up into his arms, bridal style, another shameless display of his strength but it would be a lie to say it didn't drive you crazy. "What-what are you doing?" Your questions are ignored until he approaches the bubbling hot tub.

A wicked smirk curls across his lips as he eases you onto your feet in the warm water, his hands lingering on your waist, keeping you close. He gazes at you with that knowing glint, the steam rising around you both.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, his eyes trailing down your figure, unapologetic. His fingers skim over your sides, sending a shiver through you that’s from anything but the water.

“Are you really just gonna stand there?” you call, feeling the thrill of his attention but wanting to turn the tables, your voice laced with playful challenge.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he chuckles, unfastening his swim trunks and letting them fall to the side with a carefree grin. “I plan on joining you,” he says, slipping into the water and closing the distance between you two with smooth, unhurried steps. You take a hard swallow at his size, you don't remember him being this big.

He was going to destroy you.

You raise an eyebrow, matching his smirk. “Pretty bold of you, Rafe,” you say, your voice teasing as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Just like old times, hmm?”

“Better than old times,” he murmurs, dipping his head so his lips graze your ear, his voice a low rumble. “Because now, nothing is stopping us.” He punctuates his sentence by pressing his body up against your back, elevating you a bit so your torso leans over the edge of the tub, granting him easy access to you.

"Fuck, can't believe your ass got even more fucking perfect since last time." His hand raises and comes back down with a loud spank that pulls a sinful moan from your throat. "Rafe, stop teasing." You whine, arching your back and pressing back against him.

His composure already weekend, he decided to let you get away with it this time before he lined up the swollen head of his thick cock with your entrance, "Better grab onto something." That's the last thing you hear before you're being impaled on his dick, your upper half immediately falls forward, and he stills, giving you a second.

You're breathless, it feels like his cock was taking up all the room in your lungs. Some water had splashed over the ledge but that was the least of your worries. Your mind was hazy and focused on Rafe's grunts that escaped him with every snap of his hips.

"Wish you could see how hot you look right now. The Sinclair wild child knows how to take big dick like a champ." His words run straight through you like electricity, fanning the flames of the burning heat that was beginning to form in your belly.

"Shit--This pussy was fuckin' made for me, y'know that?" You moan at his possessive statement. You can only nod, your body had gone limp long ago as he drilled into you. "R-rafe! I'm-" As if you weren't close enough, his fingers begin to rub over your clit aggressively and you jolt with a shriek.

"Oh- fuck, don't stop! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Please, Rafe." You beg, over and over, arms hanging onto the edge of the tub for dear life as more water splashes around you.

"Wait for me, hold it until I say you can come." You're chewing your lip raw, desperately trying to hold yourself back as he wrecks you from the inside out, his moans getting more frequent, a little more airy and breathless as he tumbled toward his edge of pleasure.

"Cum with me, Angel." Your body spasms as you finish together and he leans his weight against your back, his laboured breathing fanning your ear as you come down from your high.

"Not bad, princess." You couldn't respond and Rafe took note of this, carefully holding you up with one final smug remark, "Hope I didn't wear out the queen of Kildare."

[dadsbongos]

giving minimum wage clerk laios sloppy

3.1 k words / warnings - oral sex, hand jobs, public but it isn't focused on, you call laios 'good boy', not proofread

summary - you flirt with your coworker laios and suck him off in an alley outside

~~~

Laios slumps against the bag racks after returning the pharmacy key up front, prompting you to be nosey and ask,

“What’d he need?”

“Condoms.”

“Oh.”

“Right? I don’t get why they’re so shy about it,” Laios yawns, squeezing his eyes shut to revel in the sweet resulting burn, “It's worse to go in unprotected.”

“For sure,” you hadn’t meant oh as in oh, you’d meant oh as in oh because you don’t want Laios to talk about condoms. Him talking about condoms will make you think of him using one, which is only going to fluster you.

“He also wanted Plan B.”

“Crazy.”

He yawns again, then letting his head droop while bracing himself against the end of your lane. Arms pin straight and (mostly) visible, since all he’s wearing is a black Tee. Past the edges of his store apron is red vinyl, crackled from no doubt years of wear and wash. He’d shown up with a hoodie, which is strange because it’s the middle of summer, and no matter how hard you pray: the nighttime provides little relief. Either way, you’re glad to see he hasn’t snuck it on -- his arms look so much better bare.

“You tired?” a stupid question on your part.

Thankfully, Laios is your favorite coworker for a reason. He earnestly answers with a weary nod and quiet, “Yeah.”

“Poor thing,” you sit against the divot to your left, where your own set of bags rests and perch your chin in your hand, “How come? Usually you don’t get the sleepies until ten.”

And again, if it were anyone but Laios, you’d be mortified to have let that tidbit slip.

Laios perks up, scrambling for his phone as he speaks, “I was finishing that red dragon set.”

“Jeez,” you lean forward as he holds up a picture of the completed plastic array of knock off Legos; more affordable and just as dependable, “You did that all last night?”

“Took four hours, but it was worth it.”

“I thought you were gonna complete it on your weekend.”

“I was, but then, look!” he swipes over the screen before shoving it back into your face, “A winged lion!”

“Oh, cool,” when you feel that’s too bland, you add, “Isn’t that the final piece in your Griffin set?”

“Technically,” he grumbles, “I hate how they called it the Griffin set. Only one of them is a Griffin. This is just a hybrid, and the other one’s a Hippogriff. But it still looks super cool, and the instructions are way longer than any of the other ones.”

Laios looks up from where you were supposed to be staring at his screen, finding that you’re instead watching him with a stupid smile on your face. Your cheeks heat up at being caught. Just before you can stutter out an excuse, though, Laios is speaking again,

“Awesome, right?”

“Very,” you confirm with a nod.

“I’ll have to move some stuff so I can display it on my desk properly. I just have no idea where,” he pockets his phone, rolling his head onto his shoulder, “I’d have Marcille or Chil’ help but they’ll probably just tell me to trash it all.”

“Aw, I’m sure they wouldn’t! They're your friends.”

“Right. They just…”

“They tease a little too hard.”

“Exactly.”

“You can say something, you know?”

“It’s easier to just ignore,” he shrugs.

You open your mouth to retort, to encourage him to tell his friends off, but a demon beats you to it.

“Well, don’t you two look bored!” all warm fondness freezes in your chest the minute an approaching middle-aged man says that, “Break time’s over!”

Another reason Laios is your favorite is that he doesn’t find those jabs funny. You even heard that back when he first started, he’d reply to those remarks with stern sincerity. Now in his ancient wisdom, he just lets you blankly stare the man down. With clerks like Doni, you feel a pressure to at least feign a smile lest he overcompensate by actually fake-laughing.

You suffer down the interaction with as few words as you can get away with before bidding the man a goodnight.

“I hope he crashes,” you sneer, flipping open the silver cap of your change dispenser and confirming your coins can go a little longer before being filled.

Laios hums halfheartedly -- long now used to your aggro behavior towards customers you don’t like, and no longer prone to bouts of wide-eyed horror. His head is turned towards the doors, gaze lazily flicking over self-checkout to assess if anyone that way needs assistance.

You take the moment to assess him. Neck stretched and lashes beating his cheeks with every heavy blink. His lips are pressed firm, likely subconscious, and from the quirk in his hip you can tell he’s got a leg crossed over the other.

Breaking you from the study, Laios bellows another exhausted huff.

Before you can cast a cursory glance towards the clock on your screen, your supervisor is chirping from beside you, “Last break!”

So it must be nine.

God, two more hours of this? Laios sounds ready to collapse.

After signing off in order for Kabru to hop onto the register, you slip between the little gap where checkout lanes end and SCO begins. Opening one of the grab-n-go fridges with trepidation.

Does he even like energy drinks?

You’re almost certain you’ve seen him mull over them at least once… before ultimately deciding to not buy one…

He definitely doesn’t like coffee. You recall him telling Kabru the bitter taste was off-putting enough, never mind how it devastated his gut (which was entirely too much information, but it made you laugh).

Gatorade makes him think of his high school gym class, and you take that as a negative considering he nearly shivered upon just remembering the period.

Ugh. He needs the energy and there’s a three for five deal on the Monster anyway. You snatch three of the flavors that look most appealing from a Laios-point-of-view and rush to self-checkout.

“Plan on being up all night?” one of the attendants, Toshiro, warily approaches.

“No, uhm, it’s… It’s three for five! That’s like, 1.50 each!”

Mithrun, the other SCO cashier, is staring down a woman that frequently attempts walking out without paying, “I thought you didn’t like Monster.”

“The fruit punches are okay.”

“You didn’t buy fruit punch.”

“Go fuck yourself, Mithrun.”

He blinks at you slowly, “Okay.”

With an agitated scoff, you strut back to register six and saddle up by Laios, loudly clinking sweaty drinks against the faux wood surface. Kabru hurriedly checks the time, to which you interrupt,

“I’m not going to the break room, I’ll just sit here for ten minutes.”

Visibly restraining himself from pointing out you’re not supposed to do that, Kabru nods and clears his throat to greet a couple pulling in. His eye twitches with the urge to remind them loads of less than five items should go to self-checkout rather than a register. One day, you’re sure, he’ll crack -- and you desperately want to be there when he does.

“So,” you case your hands around the drinks so Laios doesn’t accidentally bag one for the couple, “Do you like Monsters?”

He frowns at you, lips flapping vapidly. Internally struggling between asking if you’re serious or if you’re being mean on purpose.

Picking up his turmoil, you blurt, “The drink! I know you like monsters. Do you like Monsters?”

“The fruit punch ones are good.”

You shouldn’t like his answer as much as you do, “I like them, too. But, uh, I didn’t get it…”

Kabru sighs as both of you go without greeting or thanking the customers before they leave.

“Oh, trying new ones?”

“No, not really. I got them for you? Kind of…”

Kabru’s icy stare pierces you, annoyance replaced with interest. You’re reminded of why he stays at this job despite hating it: drama.

“I thought, maybe, you’d want one since you’re super tired. And they were three for five, so I basically had to buy them.”

Laios silently looks at where your hands cage the cans, when you realize he’s waiting to see the flavors you pull away like you’ve been pinched. He leans on his elbows to better read each can, sleeves on his shirt riding up to expose more skin.

Laios likes orange juice so you got Ultra Sunrise. Laios likes cheesecake so you got Orange Creamsicle because they’re both sweets. And Laios supports his sister’s lesbian relationship, so you got Ultra Violet because that’s basically lavender.

His brows furrow down at the lineup before he reaches out and tips the middle one into his palm: Orange Creamsicle.

“You should have the other ones, I’d feel bad taking them too,” Laios admits, cracking open the drink, “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” when you notice Kabru hasn’t blinked since the interaction started, you jerk your head towards him, “Want one, mister manager?”

“Assistant front end manager,” Kabru sours, judging how your eyes repeatedly fall to Ultra Sunrise before taking Violet, “I don’t even have real power.”

“You’re basically a real manager, I don’t see Yaad or Thistle out here. Like ever. Even Delgal doesn’t come out of the office!”

To avoid accepting flattery, he scrounges around the cabinet beneath your receipt printer for ‘PAID’ stickers to slap on each drink.

Laios, meanwhile, sinks into his own head. The distress he felt when you asked if he liked monsters was downright alarming. He wonders if he would’ve felt that level of despair if it were anyone else asking.

Logically, he knows it’d be more hurtful because you and him are friend-ish and talk often, naturally meaning you hear about his interests quite a bit. Deeper down, past a thudding chest and into his churning gut he can tell it's more than that.

And from how hypnotizing he finds the sight of your throat bobbing around swigs of carbonated caffeine, he’s certain there’s more to his feelings than that.

But in all his years as a trusted courtesy clerk at his local branch of a large corporation grocery store, he’s seen many people fall victim to the allure of workplace incest. Subsequently, he’s seen many people quit over those fallouts.

Laios sips from his drink, trying to distract from such thoughts by taming a cringe at its bubbly stabbing on his tongue.

How could he even assume you felt that way about him? He can’t be sure you’re available for mingling.

“Are you single?” he asks, without much thought. That’s a casual topic, right? Lots of people are concerned with dating at your shared age.

Kabru signs out of the register as your break comes to a close, stubbornly lingering right behind to hear your response.

“Why?” a nervous chuckle bubbles out, you beat yourself for it, “You interested?”

Laios drinks again, shooting Kabru a pointed look.

Kabru can read it perfectly well, it’s a glare that reads: GO AWAY, GO AWAY, GO AWAY. Instead of listening, he cheerfully asks, “Ready for your last break too, Laios?”

“Yeah, I’ll take it right here. You should go away.”

“Oh!”

You snort, fastening a hand over your entire jaw as if to physically repress the sound.

“Oh,” Kabru repeats, quieter, “Someone has to bag, though…”

Laios steps back with a solemn nod, wiping his clammy hands against his uniform apron. Despite picking up on the dejected tone of Kabru’s voice, Laios’ only curiosity is if you thought he looked cool being so blunt, or did he come off as some dickhead tool?

(much less some dickhead tool that speaks harshly with a very polite, very friendly supervisor)

Both you and Kabru watch as Laios snakes through the seasonal aisles toward the break room. Once he’s out of sight, Kabru’s eyes stab into you, lip twitching, “So?”

“So, what?”

Kabru’s beams at you silently.

“Ew, do not look at me like that.”

“How long?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

“I'm a supervisor! I’m supposed to know what’s going on with my fleet.”

Before you can properly lecture him on referring to his coworkers as a ‘fleet’, a pair of potential teenagers slam thirty packs of sour beer onto your conveyor belt. Excitement to card them floods you.

Thankfully, Laios’ break seems to blow by -- he’s soon muttering an apology to Kabru and replacing him at the head of your lane.

“Back already?”

Laios hums, starkly avoiding your eyes. His sudden, almost uncharacteristic, shyness compels you to take forward charge,

“I’m single, by the way.”

“Me too,” he keep looking at you, then away, then at you, then away. Over and over again until eventually you’re craning to be forced in his sight.

“You asked for a reason, right?” you click your tongue and wink in good humor, “You want me to clean your belt, huh?”

Really, you should’ve known better than to try playing coy because all Laios does is shrug with a polite yeah, sure before backing away for you to spray down his smaller conveyor.

Oh. Oh, you can’t just not suck his dick.

“No, Laios, I have a proposition.”

…

Despite no promise of getting the favor returned, you don’t know if you’ve ever been so excited to clock out before. Scurrying out as soon as your legs could carry, barely managing to bid Kabru farewell before rounding the side of the building.

Laios is leaning against the bumpy wall, hands laced at his hips and thumbs circling.

“Hey, pervert,” you coo.

His face flushes, eyes widening, “You’re a pervert, too.”

When it comes to him, you don’t mind being labeled crass. Or even nasty. It’s why you’re so pliant to crash onto your knees while yanking his jeans apart and down his thighs. He hisses, honey gaze sweeping up towards the empty road through the thin line of trees.

Noticing his distraction, you intentionally scrape nails against his flesh when wrangling his boxers.

A soft, warm palm hesitantly cups the side of your head -- his concern somewhere between pulling you to stand and keeping your attention where it is. Though, he remains conflicted on how embarrassed he should be, especially given the way you’re biting your lip.

“Already?” you coo, teasing a finger along the hot underside of his cock, “I haven’t done anything to you yet.”

“You’re just… so pretty,” Laios huffs, praying you can’t make out the glisten of sweat across his forehead.

“Aw, thanks, big guy,” you chastely kiss his flushed tip, giggling quietly when it twitches into your welcoming pucker, “Not so bad yourself.”

He whines, raising a brow at you almost expectantly, though respectfully restraining his hips from jumping towards you. Deciding to put the man out of his suspended misery, you lave him with your tongue in a broad stroke before sucking him in.

Velveteen cheeks clamping around him as you squeeze around him, tongue pressing against smooth skin. He has no particular taste beyond ‘man’, but you hum and slide him deeper as if he’s sugary sweet. Laios lets out a muted moan, biting the hand not leisurely splayed along the side of your face.

Curling fingers beneath the bone of your jaw, he feels out the bulge plumping your cheek -- heart throbbing between his ribs at the recurring thought its his fault.

Obsessively, he mulls that point over and over until he’s unthinkingly bucking into your sodden mouth. A lewd slurp from you makes his head swivel sharply, as if someone would await this point before calling the cops.

Wiry, trimmed though not kempt, flaxen pubes tickle your nose. Laios coaxes you to bury him deeper in the cinch of your throat, and you’re content to comply. Gags and sputters are lulled from you, saliva gushing through the seam on your lips and wetting his pelvis. Drool rolling down your chin and ruining the black shirt and apron you’d thrown on before leaving.

“Aw,” he pants above you, swiping away the slick with his thumb pad, “you’re gonna ruin your shirt. It’s my favorite one, too.”

Liking the way he babbles, you pull back to hawk twah into your hand and playing his balls before slipping off his cock completely,

“Yeah, baby? You like it?”

Rolling your tongue around his tip and teasing him against your cheek, fluttering wet lashes up at him.

“Uhhh…” he whimpers, “Your arms look good in it, and I can see your collar bones…” his breath hitches, adam’s apple springing with desire, “I love when you wear that shirt.”

Laios plops free, smearing spit and pre against your hot skin. Before you can obsess over the admission too long, you’re moving to bite his hips. Fully intent on bruising him. Your hand sweeps up from his nuts to stroke him, fist blurring along his cock with soaking click, click, clicks.

With a hiss, his hand flies to the crown of your head -- not pushing either way, only grasping firm and needy. You bite harder, latching to suck the flesh swollen as you flick your wrist while jerking him off. His hips thrust against your hand, absolutely mewling.

“Good boy,” you grin into his burning pelvis, “Fuck my fist, Laios. You wanna cum for me?” he nods, mouth only capable of leaking choked versions of your name, “Wanna cum in my mouth?”

He cannot hide his gasp, jerking in your grasp.

Your hand slows, much to his pathetic displeasure, “Speak then, Laios. Good boys speak.”

“Please!” he barks, entirely uncaring if anyone around the corner could hear, “I want to cum in your mouth, can I cum in your mouth? I want to bad.”

Resuming your previous speed, you nod (though not without a “Good boy, Laios, very good.”) before flattening your tongue beneath his weeping tip. Laios digs his shoulders against the wall, fervently pistoning his cock through the cramped hole of your first and toward your mouth. Sliding along the buds of your tongue. Pitchy moans and huffs overpower the drone of faraway cars.

With a hushed grunt and “fuck” from overhead, Laios is splattering -- drowning your palette. Warm and thick, you barely scrape the salty taste before shucking it down with an instinctual gulp.

“Ah!” Laios makes a quiet hack of protest, then sighs, “You didn’t have to,” breathlessly adding, “I know some people hate the taste.”

Weirdly, you didn’t. You’re unsure if that’s something you should share, however.

Rather, you stumble onto your feet, wiping the back of your hand over your mouth in case of any… spillage. Then follows the sudden wave of shame -- regardless of Laios being a full consenting adult, and your previously steadfast attitude, you do feel like a pervert. You feel like he’s going to look down on you. You feel like-

You’re nearly startled into the bushes when you look up, Laios’ eyes split open and gleaming in the moonlight with unsettling brightness. Fists clenched at his sides after what you’re sure is the world-record for pulling one’s pants back up.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks simply.

Or maybe he’s just as into you as you are him.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

on second thought | jww

(where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?)

pairing: wonwoo x f.reader genre: roommates/friends to fwb to?? | smut, tiny bit of angst if you squint rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni word count: 6.5k warnings: there's some plot here but it's mostly smut, multiple sex scenes (some quickly referenced), roommates who enter a fwb agreement, kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, use of actual lube, some scratching, after care, mentions: masturbation, kitchen sex, teasing, overstimulation, edging, i think that's it.

authors note: happy birthday to my bby @wongyuseokie! i'm thankful to have met you through nets. i hope you like some wonwoo to celebrate. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me with a title, you're a savior. this is unedited because i only started it yesterday so sorry in advance. also tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone

Another disappointing date. Another man who couldn’t even seem to let you finish a sentence. Was so intent on proving how well he could provide for you that he forgot to treat you like a person. So intent on establishing his dominance that he tried to order for you at the overpriced restaurant with too-small portions. So irritated that he paid for your dinner and drinks only for you to leave separately from him and refuse his offer to drive you home. There was no way you were letting that man know where you lived. Is it really asking too much just to have a decent date? You aren’t going to let anyone try to tell you that your standards are too high. You’re really just asking for the bare minimum. 

That’s why you’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen of your shared apartment, spilling your guts to your sympathetic roommate. His hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles in some places because he’s been playing video games for hours. Probably streaming at some point. You admire that he’s able to do something he loves to fill up most of his days. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and you try not to find it so endearing. But, you fail at that. He really is impossibly cute sometimes.

“Do you want a bite of this?” you ask instead, holding out the instant ramen you made as soon as you got home. 

“No, I ate earlier,” he answers. 

“An actual meal or a Wonwoo meal?” you challenge and he rolls his eyes.

“I ate real food. Go back to bitching about your date,” Wonwoo says. 

“I don’t know, maybe I was being too harsh,” you say. 

“He sounds like a fucking nightmare,” he disagrees. 

“Ugh, maybe I just need to redownload one of those apps,” you whine. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate fucking on the first date, but I’m so pent up that I need to release it somehow. I’m going insane.” 

This makes him laugh, at least. It releases a little bit of the tension, too. You’ve lived with Wonwoo nearly three years and were friends for years before that. Nothing is secret between the two of you. Not anymore. The first time you realized he caught you getting off in your room because you didn’t think he was home was mortifying. Even if he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. After you got over it, things settled. And in the time since, you’ve both heard the other doing a lot of things. Some of your friends think it’s weird, but you just chalk it up to the comfort of living with someone. After all, you would tell your female friends all about your sex life. Why was that weird to share with Wonwoo? 

“Toys not doing it for you?” he throws out. You only fix him with a glare. It’s more proof that you’re entirely too comfortable.

“Our walls are thin, what do you think?” you answer. 

Wonwoo snorts a little before seeming to consider something. “Why don’t we just fuck? Get it out of your system.” 

The sip of water you’re taking when he suggests that comes bursting out of your mouth. A real life spit take. Thankfully, he’s out of the blast zone. He looks unamused at water coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t look like he was kidding. It can be so hard to tell with him. You think that you know his face well after all these years. But, you never thought you’d hear that coming out of his mouth, so you’re not sure. 

“Please give me some indication if that was a joke or not,” you say.

“It wasn’t a joke,” he says.

“Pretty clear indicator,” you mumble. 

“Is it that crazy? You think I’m hot…” Wonwoo starts. If you were still drinking, you’d spit out your water again.

“Uh, what?” you ask.

“You think I’m hot. Hao told me,” he says as if it’s no big deal. You’re mentally running through what the appropriate payback is for this breach of trust. “It’s fine. He told me because I was saying I also think you’re hot.” 

“I mean, thanks,” you laugh, still considering how you’re going to torture Minghao. “But, we can’t have sex.” 

“Why not?” Wonwoo presses. 

“Because we’re roommates?” you ask like it’s obvious. 

“So I can hear you fuck yourself with a toy or hear you fake an orgasm with another bad date, but us fucking each other is the line?” Wonwoo asks. 

“I don’t fake that many orgasms,” you scoff to buy time.

“Yes, you do,” he argues. “I can hear the difference. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be faking it with me.” 

There’s a little bit of cockiness in the statement that shouldn’t be doing anything for you. But, it is. There’s also the very real possibility that Wonwoo does know the difference in the sounds you make. It’s not like you’ve bothered being that quiet since the first conversation where he heard you. What’s the point? The walls are pretty thin and you’re both adults. It’s not like you’re going to kick him out every time you bring a date home. And you’re definitely not going to only get off in the shower because it drives up the water bill. 

Beyond any of it, there’s also a little curiosity. Wonwoo is insanely attractive. Someone would have to be blind to miss that. He’s got that whole nerdy thing going on for him on initial inspection with the glasses and gaming. Or there’s the fact that he’s content to just hang out around the house, even with company over, wearing his pimple patches. But then, there’s this whole other side to him. It comes out when you’re both out with friends and he leaves the glasses behind. Swapping out graphic tees or hoodies for form fitting clothing and leather jackets. Casually leaning against a bar and whispering honey into some nameless, faceless stranger’s ear. 

And that leads you to the reason you’re actually curious. Sure, he’s heard you having sex with people you’ve been dating or just someone you brought home for the night. But, you’ve heard him too. If any of your orgasms sound faked, the ones he coaxes from the pretty girls in his bed sound anything but. There’s nearly always an incoherent string of praises. That thought alone has you considering his proposition. It has you shifting a little on the counter.

“Let’s pretend for a second that I’m considering this,” you start and he smiles. 

“Pretend, sure,” he echoes. 

“We’d need ground rules, right? Like we don’t want this to get awkward,” you say.

“It’s not gonna be awkward. But, we can set whatever makes you feel comfortable,” he says nonchalantly. 

A very strong, very hard to ignore voice in the back of your head argues against setting rules at all. Actually urges you to just drag him into your bedroom. Or his bedroom? Maybe you do need some ground rules. 

So, you talk. You don’t say that it’s only going to happen once because you never know what needs might pop up. The most important thing that you agree to is that nothing can change between the two of you. If either of you feels like it’s going to, then you have to talk about it because preserving the friendship is most important. It doesn’t matter what bed you have sex in as long as the other helps clean anything up. You’re not planning on this being a regular thing, so you don’t need to negotiate any kinks or anything like that. If it does become more of a thing, then you can revisit the kinks. There won’t be any weirdness about dating or talking to other people. This is just a solution between two friends that are both going through dating dry spells. 

Once the rules are set out, Wonwoo brings you into his room. Even though you’ve been in here more times than you could ever count, it feels different now. He tells you to make yourself comfortable on his bed. When he turns around to take his shirt off and toss it aside, your eyes map out his back. And, yeah, you’ve seen Wonwoo shirtless before, but never given yourself permission to so openly appreciate his body. His shoulders are impossibly wide and he’s in deceptively good shape for someone that hides under baggier clothes. 

“Should I take a picture for you?” he asks. It’s only then that you realize that he’s facing you. 

“Funny,” you say with an eye roll. 

Wonwoo crosses the space to his bed and settles next to you. The way he reaches out to pull your face into his own is so smooth. His lips are on yours before your brain has a chance to catch up. You gasp a little and pull back.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Uh, didn’t we just go over this?” he asks.

“No, I mean, we’re kissing?” you ask.

“What am I supposed to do, sweetheart, just get right down to fucking you without foreplay?” he asks.

You feel a little stupid for asking that because of course you don’t want to skip the foreplay. It’s just that you don’t want to force it, either. 

“Just let me take care of you,” Wonwoo says to keep you from overthinking anything. 

It’s not something that you expected to be doing. Giving up control to Wonwoo. But, it’s surprisingly easy when he starts kissing you again. Any thoughts that this might be weird fly right out of your head as soon as he deepens the kiss. Instead, your focus is on what a good kisser he is. The way his lips mold effortlessly to yours. The way his tongue licks into your mouth. The way his hands roam your body as if they’re trying to memorize every curve. 

You’re breathless by the time Wonwoo pulls back from you to pull your shirt over your head. When you changed after the date from hell, you hadn’t considered putting anything nice on. Hadn’t bothered to keep your bra on. What was the point when you were just going to be going to bed after having something to eat? Now, you’re wondering about that decision. Because your very hot roommate is drinking in the sight of you. It’s making you a little self-conscious, the way his eyes move over your body.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he utters. 

It’s a little too intimate for you to respond to. It doesn’t seem to matter, anyway. Wonwoo starts kissing down your neck and working his way to your breasts. He spreads his kisses between them, rolling your nipple between his fingers when his mouth is on your other breast. There’s something so consuming about the way he kisses your body, like he’s worshiping you. Like this is a lot more than roommates helping each other out. 

He works his way further down your body, kissing along your stomach, stopping at the waist band to your shorts. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the chance to overthink here either before he pulls the shorts and underwear down your legs. Tosses them off to the side for good measure. You’re totally naked in front of someone you find you do actually trust. And someone that, yeah, maybe you’ve thought about fucking before. There was no reality where you thought it would happen, though. Even if it does make a lot of sense. Every part of you truly does feel safe with him. He knows you better than most people in your life. Which clearly translates to this part of you. 

Since you’re so comfortable, you’re finding it easier to not be embarrassed at the way he’s got you squirming under the barest touch. The way he ghosts his breath across your center makes you let out a whine. It’s unfair, the way that he wants to take his time like this. It’s also unfair that he’s the first person to ever make your mind go this blank during sex. Nothing exists to you outside of this moment and this man.

Wonwoo moves back to where you need him the most, blows gently against your center. The sensation sends a shiver down your body. You barely hear him mumble out a “so pretty” before he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your core. There’s just enough time to think this slow pace might actually be the death of you before he goes back in. Using his fingers to spread you apart, he starts tonguing your pussy. A mix of slow and deliberate movements with faster ones. His thumb circles your clit before his mouth moves up there to give it the attention it needs. 

With his mouth on your clit, he presses one finger into your pussy. You’ve never really thought much about his hands and now you’re wondering how you missed them. His long finger pumps in and out of you quickly. It seems that he’s reading your body and can tell that you don’t want something too slow. There’s so much pent up in you.

“Fuck, please, Wonwoo. I need another finger,” you whine. 

“Anything you want,” he mumbles into your pussy. 

He slides another finger inside of you and it makes you clench around him. That only seems to make him move faster. His mouth continues to work along with his fingers and your hands grip whatever they can reach. You’re a babbling mess and you suddenly understand what you overheard from Wonwoo’s room. There’s something so hot about knowing he’s this good with his mouth and his hands. It’s got you coming hard on his face. Harder than you can remember coming before. 

“That’s my girl,” he praises as soon as you’re coming down from your high. Your hazy brain doesn’t latch onto it the way it clearly should.

He presses a gentle kiss to your inner thing and then pulls himself up to lie next to you. His fingers trace patterns into your skin while he’s waiting for your breathing to come back to normal. 

“Jesus, I guess I know why I always heard so much praise through the wall,” you mutter. 

“None as pretty as the sounds you just made,” he says quietly. It’s so gentle, so intimate. There’s a lot of love between you and one of your closest friends, so you don’t dwell too much on it.

You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still dark with desire, fingers still keeping contact with your body. There’s like some kind of bubble around the two of you where nothing else exists. It’s a comfortable feeling, even in the quiet. Something pulls you in closer to him and you can feel his erection brush against your leg.

“Oh,” you say quietly. “You know, I’m still a bit pent up…”

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

“What? I’m gonna come on your face but we can’t actually fuck like we meant to?” you joke, a little braver than you feel. 

“This was about you, not about me,” he says simply. 

“It can be about both of us,” you say, hand running down his stomach. He tenses a bit under your touch and it’s unfair. He’s got perfect abs and you kind of hate it. Kind of hate that it’s so hot to you, too. 

You run your hand over the outline of his dick threw his shorts, enjoy the sharp intake of breath at the contact. It feels like a sign for you to keep going. But, he grabs your hand and pins it above your head. Kisses you hard and desperate. All of his restraint from before seems to be gone now. 

“Don’t play with me, sweetheart,” he warns. 

“Then show me how good you can fuck me. You were so sure earlier,” you press back. 

Wonwoo rolls over and pulls his shorts and boxers off. Casts them off to the side with your clothing. He reaches into his nightstand and pulls a condom out. He rolls back over to position himself between your legs. 

“One final time, are you sure?” he asks. It’s the first time since you came into his room that you’ve seen him look unsure.

“As long as you’re sure too, yes. I need this Nu, please,” you say, a little breathy with desire. 

“I love it when you call me that,” he admits. 

With your go ahead, he slides his tip along your entrance. You know you’re still wet from his hard work, but he still reaches into the dresser again. He pulls out some lube and runs it along his cock. Once he’s done that, he puts the cap back on and tosses it aside. He presses his tip against you again and this time slides in, slowly. Gives you a chance to adjust. 

You’re completely at Wonwoo’s mercy like this, with his arms on either side of you like he’s caging you in. Instead of wanting to get out, you can only think that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Your hands find their way to his arms, gripping him tightly as he bottoms out in you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hisses. 

“Nu, fuck, please move,” you beg. 

“Give me a second, sweetheart, I’m trying to adjust so it doesn’t end too fast,” he says, voice so impossibly deep. 

“Please,” you beg again. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. 

It finally does get him to move though, barely pulling out at all and fucking slowly into you, so deep. He’s filling you up in the most perfect way. Your nails dig into his arms, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on. Makes him pull nearly all the way out of you before snapping hard into you again. He repositions one of your legs so that he can reach a different angle. With each hard thrust, his dick hits exactly where you need him to be. The rhythm is fast, which is really everything you need for how stressed you’ve been feeling. Each thrust uncoils more of the tension in your body. Each moan seems to spur him on more. 

When he leans down to kiss you, it’s messy. A clash of tongues and lips and teeth and need, so much need. Your hands find purchase anywhere on his body they can, even as his own arms seem to be a little shaky. So, you pull him down on top of you, bodies pressed tight as he continues fucking you. You’re still so sensitive from the first orgasm that you’re building up entirely too quickly. Even though you wanted it fast like this, you’re a little sorry to think it might be almost over. 

Wonwoo must feel that you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him and begging for him to give you everything. He pushes himself up a little, just creates the tiniest amount of space between your bodies, and you miss it a little. Miss the feeling of skin on skin. But, he’s only doing it so that he can circle your clit. He just wants to take care of all that tension. You give control over to him completely. Let him set the pace. An embarrassingly short time later, you’re coming for the second time. He removes his hand but still fucks you through the high. 

When your body stops shaking, you realize that he’s stilled inside you. He’s barely even moving as he looks down at you.

“It’s okay, Nu, I’m not that sensitive yet,”  you assure him

“Thank fuck,” he whispers. 

His pace is fast and you reach up to run your nails down his back. That seems to get him like nothing else does. When you do it a second time, he hisses out and you know he likes it. Each time your nails find a new part of his skin, his thrusts stutter. You clench your pussy around his cock and that’s all he can handle. He’s coming undone. 

You return the favor through his high, lightly keeping the rhythm going and helping him settle his weight on top of you. His breathing is still heavy when he meets your eyes and gives you the gentlest kiss. Slowly, he slides out of you and rolls over. The next second, he’s up to dispose of the condom. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth a few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed to help you.

“Well, I guess I learned one thing,” you say when he gets up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom.

“What’s that?” he calls over his shoulder.

“All that confidence was definitely warranted,” you say through a light laugh. 

You can just feel him rolling his eyes. “And here I thought you’d have less to say after a good fuck.” 

“Nope, chatty as ever. No more tension, though,” you say. 

“I’m glad,” he says, but it looks like he actually means it.

You move to get out of the bed and look at the sheets. Probably in need of a change. “Hey, do you wanna throw these in the hamper and just sleep in my bed tonight?” 

“Are you sure that doesn’t break any rules?” he asks.

“No, we’ve done it…are you teasing me?” Your question morphs in the middle when you catch sight of his face. He can be such a shit for someone who acts like he’s chill all the time. 

“I would never tease you,” he says, faux seriousness lacing his voice.

“That’s a shame, I like being teased,” you toss back.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” he shrugs.

“Next time?” you wonder.

“Just go get in your bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he says. 

It wasn’t like you agreed for sex with Wonwoo to be a one time thing. That felt like putting too many rules in place. Still, you’re not expecting it to happen again quite so quickly. You also genuinely didn’t realize he was home when you pulled out your vibrator. But, he was home and he barged into your room without knocking, pulled you to the edge of your bed, and fucked you hard. Made you wonder why you’d ever even consider using your vibe in the first place. 

The next time comes after another failed date. It kind of seemed like that was the recipe. Something goes wrong or you’re pent up and he’s there to let you use him. Although, he’s really using you just as much. You like to let him be a little rough with you. There’s something satisfying in the way he doesn’t treat you like he’s going to break you. It’s unquestionably the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s your business. You don’t need to share that with the class. You do figure that it might be time to talk about some kinks and boundaries, though. It would be good to be on the same page. 

That seems to be how it goes for a while, at least. It’s mostly you needing something, Wonwoo being able to sense that, and helping you out. It doesn’t seem to ever start from him being the one to need something. He doesn’t even seem to be going out and bringing people home so much anymore. Not that you’re keeping track, you just can’t remember the last time he did. Or maybe he’s trying to only bring someone home when you’re not around. 

He definitely holds true to his promise to tease you. One night, after a really long week at work with a lot of little things going wrong, he asks if he can take his time with you. In hindsight, you should have known it meant that it was going to mean teasing. But, you agreed anyway, and let him set the pace. Instead of hard and fast, he takes everything slow. He brings you right to the edge over and over again without letting you have your release. It’s insane how well he seems to read your signs. It seems like he can tell you’re close before you can. That night, it feels like it goes on for hours before he finally lets you come. It’s the biggest mess you’ve ever made. A fact that you would be embarrassed about if Wonwoo hadn’t looked so proud. Still, it feels like you’re the one always working something out.

Until it doesn’t.

One night, you come back from a night out with friends and are rummaging through the cabinets looking for a snack. This is the thing you hate about living with Wonwoo. He’s taller than you and doesn’t think twice about using the higher cabinets. You, on the other hand, can’t reach them so easily. You’re on your tiptoes trying to reach something when you feel him press into your back. His hand comes up and grabs the box you were reaching for with ease. You press further back into him when your heels hit the floor again.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles into your hair. His hands find a place on your hips, holding you against him. This feels different from how every other time has started. 

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly into the silence of the apartment. 

He lets one hand slide down, quickly meeting the bare skin of your thigh. You know your skirt is a little shorter than normal, but the night seemed to call for it. “This. Did you go out hoping to bring someone home?” 

“Maybe,” you say, shivering a little at the way his breath tickles your ear. 

“Are you trying to tease me?” he asks. It comes across almost like a demand. 

You wiggle your ass against him a little before you answer. “I would never.” 

“Of course not,” he says. 

Everything that happens after that feels different. It’s never started like this. It’s been passionate, but it’s never been driven by so much raw desire. It’s never been the kind of sex where Wonwoo pushes your skirt up around your hips and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. Never been the kind of sex where he buries his face in your pussy while you grip the counter for support. Never been so desperate and needy and rushed. 

He makes you come twice on his tongue with your knees going so weak that you can barely stand before he even moves onto actually fucking you. You’re so weak by the time you finish that he has to help you to the bathroom to clean up before he tucks you into your bed. You’re so tired that you don’t even realize how intimate it is when you ask him to get into bed with you. 

The disappointment that sets in when you wake up to get some water in the early hours of the morning hits you hard. Entirely too hard for something that’s supposed to be free of feelings. Your bed feels a little empty without him taking up space. Which is really stupid because it’s not like that’s been something you’ve been doing all of the time. It’s not something you’re used to. But, there’s an unexpected comfort in him. Something that catches you completely off guard. As you drift back off to sleep, you resolve to deal with your feelings in the morning. 

That’s how you find yourself sitting on Minghao’s couch as he makes you both a cup of tea. He hasn’t asked about your roommate yet, but you know that it’s coming. He just wants to have everything he thinks you’ll need first. A few minutes later, he sets two cups of tea down next to the plate of snacks he threw together. If you weren’t in such a crisis, you’d have time to be envious over how pretty the presentation looked. 

“So things with Wonwoo have gotten awkward?” he asks without preamble. 

“Jesus, Hao, let me take a sip first, at least,” you groan. 

“I don’t want to say that I told you this was a bad idea…” he starts.

“You were the one who spilled the beans that I thought he was hot. This is your fault too,” you point out. 

“I told him that he wasn’t alone in thinking his roommate was hot. I didn’t tell you both to start fucking without realizing it was bound to blow up,” he says. 

“I know,” you sigh. 

“So, what’s going on?” he asks. 

Minghao is a lot of things. He can be a bit of an art snob. He’s that kind of impeccably dressed where he looks like he just stepped off a runway. He can appear a bit detached. But, he’s also one of the most thoughtful people you know. He’s complex and he cares for his friends more than he cares for himself most times. Both you and Wonwoo are among those he counts as his closest friends. So, he just listens as you lay out everything that’s happened since the first time you had sex. He doesn’t judge or interrupt. Patiently, he just waits as you get it all off your chest, including how you felt after last night. 

None of that really comes as a surprise. You know that he’s going to give you shit and be there for you at the same time. What does come as a surprise is what he says when you’re done laying out your issues.

“I haven’t wanted to set you up because I wasn’t sure you were in the right place for it, but I actually have a friend that I think you might hit it off with,” he says. “He’d definitely get you out of this whole Wonwoo funk you’re in so things can go back to normal.” 

“You wanna set me up?” you ask, surprised. 

“Yeah, I think it’d be good for you,” he says. 

“Okay, tell me about him,” you agree.

“He’s really kind. Kind of talks in a permanent pout, but it’s endearing somehow. He’s a giant softie at heart and he’s so incredibly loyal. He’s been talking about how he’s looking for something a little more serious. I think you’d like him,” Minghao says. 

“What’s his name, Hao?” you ask skeptically.

“Mingyu,” he answers and your eyes go wide.

“Mingyu? As in that hot model you’re friends with?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Minghao says evenly.

“Okay, you can see if he’s interested,” you agree.

It’s been a couple days since Minghao threw out the suggestion of setting you up with Mingyu. The two of you have exchanged a few messages and he does actually seem really nice. He’s also funnier than you expected him to be. When he asks if you want to get dinner the upcoming weekend, you find you’re a little bit excited. 

There’s only one issue. You feel like you need to tell Wonwoo. You know that he’s not going to care, but it still feels weird when you’ve been fucking around. Maybe Minghao was right and the whole thing was a terrible idea after all. It’s hard for you to tell him when you seem to keep missing each other, though. Lately, he’s been playing video games over at Vernon’s place more than normal. Even if they’re streaming, something feels weird. 

“Hey,” he calls out from the front door, snapping you from your thoughts. 

“Oh hey,” you answer, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he moves to head back to his room. “Everything okay?” 

He stops to look at you when you ask that question and his eyes still look a bit distant. “Yeah, fine. Why?” 

“I don’t know, you’re being short with me,” you say. 

He just shrugs. “I don’t have anything to say.” 

“Okay,” you say, drawing out the first syllable. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that Minghao set me up with his friend Mingyu and I was thinking I’d go out with him.” 

“You don’t have to tell me about your dates,” he says evenly.

“I just thought…” you start.

“We agreed,” he interjects. “Enjoy your date whenever you go.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly to his retreating figure. 

The whole point of agreeing to go out with Mingyu was to get things back to normal with Wonwoo. It was clear that you had gotten in over your head. Now, you’re wondering if things are going to be able to go back to normal at all. This isn’t your normal dynamic. You always shared stories about dates, hook-ups, anything and everything under the sun. Your other friends always said it was weird for the two of you and you just ignored them. Now, you feel like you’re in it alone. Maybe they’re right and it is weird.

Since it’s a little on the later side anyway, you decide to grab something from the kitchen and just head into your room. You can go to bed early and forget that whole conversation even happened. That’s probably for the best. It’ll be easier to get back to normal once you’re going on dates again. Once you stop fucking your roommate like you could have ever done that without forming some kind of feelings. 

It’s the middle of the night when you feel someone slide into bed around you. A familiar scent slips into your consciousness as an arm slides around your center. You nestle back into the chest and know for sure that it’s your roommate. The same man you’re trying hard to get over.

“What are you doing, Wonwoo?” you mumble in sleepiness. 

“Don’t go on the date with Mingyu,” he says. He sounds completely awake. 

“What?” you ask. Your brain is still foggy from sleep. 

“Don’t go out with anyone else,” he says. 

That makes you open your eyes as the words bounce around in your brain. You turn over to your other side so that you’re facing him. His hair is messy and all he’s wearing is a plain white t-shirt, but your heart still constricts a bit at the sight of him. 

“What do you want, Wonwoo?” you ask, voice thick with mental exhaustion.

“Exactly what I told you. I want you to turn Mingyu down,” he says.

“Why should I?” you challenge. 

“Because, well, we’ve got this…” he starts and fumbles over his words.

“We haven’t got anything. You’ve been avoiding me for days,” you point out. “Hell, I asked you to stay in bed with me after you fucked me in the kitchen and you couldn’t even make it til morning.” 

“I know, but I was scared that night because I realized I was starting to feel something,” he says. “And then Hao texted me to tell me he’d finally given your number to Mingyu…”

“Finally? What do you mean?” you asked.

“He’s been asking for your number for months,” Wonwoo says through somewhat gritted teeth. “So Minghao told me you’d agreed to be set up and I don’t know, I guess I just decided…”

“To avoid me?” you supply. 

“I didn’t know what to do. And I didn’t know how to process you not telling me,” he admits. 

“You weren’t around for me to tell you,” you point out. “We’ve been fucking. I wasn’t just gonna be like oh by the way, I’m going on a date.” 

“Please don’t go on a date with him,” Wonwoo asks again.

“I will consider not going if you can actually talk to me,” you say. 

“About what?” he asks. 

“Everything you’re feeling and why this whole let’s just be roommates that fuck was stupid,” you say. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says immediately. 

You sigh, realizing that you’re not going to be able to go back to sleep, and send Wonwoo to the kitchen to get you something to drink. By the time he’s back, you’re sitting up in bed and ready to have an actual conversation. 

You stay up entirely too late talking about everything between the two of you. It’s a little hard to believe Wonwoo is so open with admitting how he feels. It’s harder to believe that Wonwoo knew he felt something for you before the very first time you had sex. In his mind, it was clear that he wasn’t just offering because the two of you were friends. He offered it as a way to gauge your own feelings. But, after that first time, he kind of figured it was just sex and tried to detach himself from it. That was when you started to feel something for him. 

When he’s done admitting his own mistakes and feelings, you figure that it’s time for you to own up to your own. It was really silly to just make up his side of the conversation about why he didn’t stay in bed with you that night. After all, the one thing you both stressed before sleeping together the first time was that you had to be honest in your communication. That’s what friends did and you were friends before anything else. As it turns out, you’re both way more on the same page than either of you realized. 

“You’re wrong about one thing, though,” you admit. 

“What’s that?” he asks.

“It was never just sex for me. I was totally done the first time you kissed me,” you share, picking at a thread on your comforter to avoid looking at him.

“I kissed you before we even had sex,” he points out, incredulous. 

“Yeah, turns out I’m not so good at the just friends who fuck thing,” you say with a shrug. 

“If I’d have known that was all it took, I’d have kissed you months ago,” Wonwoo grumbles.

That brings you up short. “Nu, just how long have you liked me?” 

“I don’t know, a while,” he says. 

You just shake your head at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Just talk to me next time.” 

“Can we go back to having sex now? I miss the feel of you,” he whines out. “And the taste.” 

“We literally fucked less than a week ago,” you point out to try and avoid the way it makes heat pool. 

“I could taste you every day and never get sick of it,” he says without any embarrassment. 

“Are we really giving this a try?” you ask.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Wonwoo says.

“I do, I’m just scared. What if we try a relationship and it doesn’t work?” you ask. “You’re one of my best friends. I don’t wanna lose that.” 

Wonwoo reaches out to tilt your head up. “We’ll just promise to be honest with each other. We can figure this out together.”

“Okay,” you agree.

“So, we’re doing this?” he confirms.

“Yeah, we’re doing this.” 

Just like that, you agree to take a leap with the only person that you’ve always trusted to catch you every time you fall. It feels scary, but also completely natural. 

i hope you enjoyed it! 💕

[prodbyton]

only you ☆ p.sh

park sunghoon x reader

jealous gf and reassuring bf >>>

🎀 smut 1&+ MDNI , fem!reader , small joke ab violence, dom!hoon , oral (f) , unprotected sex , creampie , kinda soft but like a little possessive , pet names (princess , baby)

⭐️ wc. 1.6k

🎧 love between… kali uchis

“baby, you seriously can’t still be mad at me right now, we've been back home for an hour” sunghoon groans as he follows you into the living room, watching as you sit on the opposite end of the couch.

“um, yes i can. that girl was all over you in the store! and i was literally right there! i’ll be mad as long as i want,” you pout, arms folding over your chest in annoyance to your oblivious boyfriend.

“but how is that my fault? it’s not like i flirted back. i simply ignored her advances, which is what i’m supposed to do… so why are you mad?”

“that’s just the bare minimum, hoon. you’re supposed to say ‘my super hot amazing girlfriend would kill you if you thought i'd pick you over her’ and then you punch her right in the stomach” you smile, feeling like you made a valid point and hoping that sunghoon would take notes. he just looks at you shocked, not very amused by your statement.

“i love you, so much… but im not punching a woman in the stomach” he chuckles, and you pout again.

“i guess you don’t really love me then!” you get up from the couch, storming into the kitchen to get away from the male who clearly doesn’t understand the severity of the matter.

he follows close behind you, not liking your little jealous attitude and wanting you to know that there was nothing for you to worry about. you were looking in the cabinet for a snack when you felt sunghoon behind you, turning your body around so you could look at him.

“baby, i love you, and only you” his voice was serious, letting you know that he meant every word and he wasn’t playing around.

you lean backwards, body supported by your hands on the counter. you give sunghoon a challenging look, trying to keep your attitude intact while he stares you down. “mhm… prove it then”

he has you pressed against the kitchen counter now, hand holding your hips still while he grabs your chin and brings it up so he could press his lips on yours. it was soft, but full of emotion. you give into him so easy, dropping the jealous act the moment his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. his hand on your hip moves to your ass, gripping the flesh over your pants. you groan, pushing your body closer to sunghoons while you bring your arms up to wrap around his neck.

his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses and bites on the exposed skin until his mouth reached your chest. he pulled away from you, looking at how your eyes were hooded and lips swollen from his kissing and from you biting them.

he groped at your breasts with each hand, pinching your hard nipples through your tank top which made you help.

“hoon” you whine, letting your hands rest back onto the counter behind you while sunghoon played with your tits through your shirt.

“yes, princess?”

“want you,”

“tell me what you want,”

you bring your hand to his, grabbing onto him and guiding his hand down to where you needed him most. you look at him with pleading eyes, hoping that he doesn’t try to tease you further and he gives you what you want.

he slips his hand into your pants, shifting your panties to the side so he could drag a finger through your slit. you bite back a moan, watching as sunghoon looks down at you in awe.

“so wet already princess, a little kissing has you this desperate for me already, huh?” his tone was condescending as he slipped his middle and ring finger into your cunt, making you let out a choked out moan.

“shit, yes. want you so bad hoon, please” you move your hips up, grinding on his fingers. he hums, leaving a quick kiss on your lips before pulling his fingers out of you. before you could whine about the loss, sunghoon was turning you around and bending your body over the countertop. still not giving you a moment to process, he was hooking his fingers into the fabric of your pants and pulling them down along with your underwear. all you could do was gasp at the cold room air hitting your exposed core.

“such a pretty pussy, baby. wouldn’t even think of wanting another one” he spreads your legs apart, getting down on his knees so he could be face to face with your pussy. hands resting where your ass and thighs connect, he grips the flesh to pull your folds apart to see how wet you are. the contact had you moaning, hips moving in the air as if there was anything touching you. the way you were positioned, you couldn’t see what sunghoon was doing. so you had no choice but to wait for him to make a move.

that's when you felt his lips on you, kissing all around your inner thighs with wet lips. he licked, sucked, and bit on the skin, getting closer and closer to your cunt with every kiss. you knew it was coming, but you were still caught by surprise when you finally felt his tongue come in contact with your clit. grabbing onto whatever your hands could reach, you held on tightly to the edge of the counter to keep yourself from falling.

“s-sunghoon! fuck, baby it feels so good” you cry out when his flicks to your clit turn into sucks and you can feel his nose prodding at your dripping hole. he’d move up to collect all your juices on his tongue, then back to your clit. he had a mixture of saliva and your arousal dripping down his chin, but it didn’t matter to him because he had your legs shaking over him.

“taste so good, all for me?” he mumbles from under you, he’s spreading your folds open while he talks, blowing lightly onto your clit forcing a whimper from you. your body from the waist down was strained, clit throbbing, legs aching from how you were bent over and nearly on your tippy toes, and sunghoons grip on your thighs getting stronger.

“mmmhm, always for you hoon. ‘m gna cum” you felt the string in your stomach get closer and closer to snapping, feeling like you would explode at any moment.

with your little warning of your impending orgasm, sunghoons lips and hands were off of you. your eyes that were threatening to close now wide open, the ache in between your thighs coming back and you feel like you were going to cry. you tried to stand up so you could turn to sunghoon, but he was already a step ahead of you. he had pushed you back down onto the counter, grabbing both your hands in one of his and holding them in place on your back.

“sorry princess. want you cumming around my cock, mkay?” he was pulling his pants down with his free hand, freeing his cock from the tight feeling of it straining in his boxers. all you could do was nod, the moan that left your lips being taken as a yes before sunghoon was lining himself up with your entrance.

with a small push, he was sliding right into you with a hiss. you ball your fists up, not being able to hold onto anything while sunghoon stretches you open with his cock. once he bottoms out, he pulls out almost completely before pushing himself back in with a sharp thrust. you gasp, him repeating this action twice before he finds a rhythm. he moves fast, hand gripping onto your waist while he pistons his hips into yours.

“taking my cock so well princess,” he groans out, words coming out slurred as he tries to keep his pace. “shit baby, you’re so tight for me”

you could feel yourself getting close again, the way you were bent over had sunghoons cock hitting a spot deep inside you, making you let out choked sobs every time he thrusted into you.

“hoonie, baby please let me cum, m’so close” the words come out in between cries, and you feel the hand that was holding you up wrap around to rub messy circles on your clit. you felt like you were on fire, the stimulation becoming painful the closer you got to your peak.

“cum for me, make a mess all over my cock princess” with the delicious pressure of his fingers on your clit, you were cumming before he could even finish his sentence. your body spasmed, clenching hard on sunghoons cock as you subconsciously tried to push away from him. you couldn’t move much with the hold he had on you, and he kept his fingers on your clit while he finally reached his own orgasm, giving you a few more harsh thrusts before his hips stilled as his cum filled you up. you both moan out, out of breath and completely fucked out.

he releases his hold on your hands, letting them rest on the counter where your head lays, and he’s leaning over you to place a kiss on your shoulder.

“still mad at me baby?”

“i don’t know, you might have to prove yourself again in the shower”

A/N: first enha fic on this account 🤭🤭 i hope you guys liked it. more coming soon !!

reqs are open !! -> 🎀

[koriangguk]

✧ vegas temptation

✧ synopsis: Falling victim to yet another failed situationship, you're consumed by dread. Maybe love is something you aren't destined to experience in this lifetime? Or maybe you just need a little getaway and a friend who'll accompany the series of impulsive decisions this would entail. Thankfully, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?

✧ genre: fake dating au, heavy on smut with a sprinkle of angst

✧warnings: cream play, nipple play, hickeys, different positions, protected/unprotected sex, public nudity (?), tongue-fuck, fingering, denied orgasm, overstimulation, ice play, vibrator play, rope play, candle burns (?) ✧recommended artists: Chase Atlantic, The Weeknd, Daniel Di Angelo, Doja Cat

Everyone knows heartbreak is a pain in the ass, but an intriguing one at that.

It pulls on your heartstrings and fuels the desperate longing to feel whole again. Releasing a tide of emotions that follow suit as your consciousness drowns under the shattering pieces of broken promises, white lies and everything in between. 

But, nothing compares to the ego that awakens within you as you enter a phase of recovery, embarking on the infamous villain arc. One that is flamed with rage and hunger for revenge. 

Because, let's be honest, a good heart can only take you so far until everything comes crashing down again. Before you are back at square one, like clockwork, slaving after hours just to receive the bare minimum. 

So, fuck that and fuck Kim Jaewon. Stupid cunt. 

Honestly, if it wasn’t for Jungkook and his Black Amex you wouldn’t even bother brushing your hair, let alone worry about which lacey lingerie you should pack for a week in Vegas. 

The Entertainment Capital of the World. 

Well, it certainly would be entertaining to put two best friends into a couple’s suite and hope that nothing happens. But, as Jungkook’s dilated pupils watched you swallow your feelings with another shot of tequila it didn’t really seem like he was the one betting on that deal. Quite the opposite actually. 

“Honestly, screw him, y/n.” he muttered, running his fingers through those dark locks as the two of you waited for your flight at the boujee business lounge. 

In contrast to his trust fund upbringing, you felt like the biggest elephant in the room venturing into the wrong tax bracket. So, the potential side effects of the alcohol running down your esophagus were primarily to calm the nerves of sticking out like a sore thumb, and only slightly to forget your ex. 

“Have you been listening at all? I kind of already did.” your lips pursed in annoyance, words barely stringing together. 

You weren't annoyed at Jungkook, per se, more so at yourself for letting it get this far. For intoxicating your system at the crack of dawn, as at least twenty pairs of eyes watched the two of you bicker. But, come on, surely it was 5 pm somewhere. Listen, when everything is already going wrong, how damaging could another bad decision be? Especially, in the form of a liquid. So, please, everyone keep your judgement to yourself. 

“Well, then that might just be the problem.” 

“Huh?” your gaze furrowed, brows knitted with confusion. 

“You’re fucking the wrong guys, y/n.” Jungkook whispered with a sly grin. 

“Right. And you, I’m assuming would have been my Mr. Right, of course.” you scoffed, jabbing your finger into his chest before looking back up at his heavy gaze. 

“Give me a week and we'll see.” he teased, using his foot to pull on your chair, bringing your tipsy form closer until inches were separating your parted lips from his. 

Playful would have been the best word to describe your relationship with Jungkook. You never crossed the line between friends and lovers but were in very close proximity to doing so. So, when you poured your heart out, crying on his shoulder the night Jaewon’s cheating scandal broke out like wildfire, a part of Jungkook was pleased by the news despite how selfish it might have looked. 

Simply put, he was never a fan of your boyfriends. How could he be when the mere sight of another man beside you triggered every cell in his body, charging a visceral reaction that was forced to be suppressed, kept on the low because you were never his to be territorial of. 

Never his to be taken care of. To be loved. Oh, if only you knew how badly he wanted it. How badly he wanted you. 

Only, you did know. Because, like a sickening aftertaste, the tension between the two of you always lingered. But he kept his distance, and you played on with the denial. Praying for each other’s downfall, you hoped that the other would finally cave in, and say the three words that would change the trajectory of your relationship forever. 

But, as time went on, his fetish for your love only grew stronger and an innocent crush matured into a craving. One that could no longer be suppressed no matter how much you tried to push it away. To push him away. 

Jaewon was your last straw. The breaking point that made you question whether you were destined to be loved in this lifetime. And although he caused you pain, you didn’t know if you should thank your ex or curse his whole bloodline, because now that he was gone there was no point in denying that Jungkook and you were more than just friends. 

Lathering the shea butter on your damp skin, your vision was hazy, body seemingly recovering from the hot shower. But, after that 15-hour flight surrounded by multiple throw-ups and diaper changes, a scrub-down was a must. So, there you were standing in front of the full-sized mirror in the pink pyjama set your mom gifted you specifically for this trip. Whatever that meant.  

See, Jungkook had a way with words. It was his charm. His sensual demeanour could have an innocent bystander wrapped around his finger with one plea. A practical skill that most likely fueled your mother’s spending on the silk fabric, but one that you have yet to fall victim to. 

His mind games were strong, but your stubbornness was stronger. He didn’t mind, actually, kind of adored it. The dominant side of you, the way you could shut him up with one glare. It made loving you so much more thrilling, worth fighting for every sigh, every eye roll, every sneer. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” you blurted at the man's reflection as his palms rested on the top of the doorframe, darkened orbs bluntly eying your body from top to bottom. 

“Like what?” Jungkook grinned, nibbling on his lip rings.

“Like you want something.” you whispered with a furrowed gaze, spraying some leave-in conditioner into your detangled hair. 

“Hmm … but, I do want something.” he teased, inching closer before you felt his bare chest hit your back, veiny hands holding onto your waist. 

“I bet. I made rules you know? In case you thought I’d give in so easily.” you murmured, turning to face him as your fingers slightly tugged on the towel wrapped around his hips. 

“Is that so?” he chuckled softly, eyes flickering down to your plump lips. 

“Mhhm,” you nodded, feeling his hands slowly travel up your top as your own intertwined behind his neck. 

“Did I break any already?” he rasped into your ear, teeth grazing against the soft skin. 

Your mouth curled into a mischievous sneer as you whispered, “Just one.” 

However, before he could respond, your fist was already gripping the chains on his neck, gently pulling him toward the king-sized bed that was covered in rose petals and a complimentary note from the hotel. 

Happy honeymoon, lovebirds!

Loosening his towel, Jungkook watched as you straddled his lap, pressing your hands onto his chest before innocently glancing up at his parted lips. You could have sworn a drool dripped down his mouth, but it might’ve just been your ego flying through the roof as you felt his racing heartbeat.   

“May I?” you teased, slowly rocking your hips against the friction beneath you. 

“By all means, love.” he purred, tracing his hands back onto your thighs before flinching at your sudden slap. 

“Hands off, Jeon. Rule number one.” you giggled at the sudden change in his demeanour. The way his furrowed gaze searched for the audacity that could’ve potentially justified the words that came out of your mouth. 

“You’re fucking with me, right?” he groaned, jerking his head back. 

“No?” a small pout worked its way over your innocent face, eyes fluttering. 

“Baby, please.” 

Was he begging? Or were your knees buckling from the fatigue? Whatever. Keep focus, y/n. 

“I warned you, Koo.” you winked, brushing your lips over his before a knock on the door interrupted the little moment. 

“Room service!” a man’s voice echoed from the corridor. 

I guess the sight of Jungkook’s sculpted chest completely hazed your mind as you struggled to recover even the slightest recollection of ordering food. 

“Coming!” you yelled out, planting a kiss on the tip of his nose until his hold on your waist tightened. 

“No, stay.” he murmured, voice laced with desperation. 

“I have to open the door, Jeon, that's kind of how it works.” 

“I like you here.” he grinned, tugging on your bottom lip before leaving a soft spank on your ass. And, as you glanced back at his heaving chest you feared that rule number one was going to be short-lived. 

“Do you like it? They didn’t have Carbonara but I thought shrimp fettuccine would have sufficed,” you said with slight hesitation which shortly dissipated as you watched him empty the dish clean.  

“Trust me, y/n. You being here has already made me a happy man. Everything else is just a cherry on top.” Jungkook smiled, rubbing his tattooed hand along his jaw before reaching for the last plate cover.

“Honestly, I wanted to thank y-,” your words were interrupted by his sudden whine. 

“No dessert?” his brow arched slightly. 

“Oh. Shoot, sorry. I … I didn’t think you’d want any.” your words came out as a stutter, eyes frantically searching for the phone. 

“Mhmm, but I would kill for some cheesecake.” he sighed with a pout, loosening the buttons on his shirt. 

Changing out of the cotton fabric that covered his cucumber-scented body roughly five minutes ago, Jungkook decided to parade the same pyjama set as you. And, now that the two of you were matching, it was clear what your mom’s mission was all along. 

“Yeah, okay, let me just call them b-” 

“No need.” 

“Huh? So, you don’t want dessert?” 

“I do.” he teased, keeping his voice low and calm. 

“Okay, let’s cut back on the riddles, Jeon. Do I call or not?”

But, there was no answer. Instead, he simply excused himself from the table before walking towards the red couch, patting the seat next to him. 

“Come here, y/n.” his voice lowered to a rumble, darkened orbs filled with nothing but lust. 

“Why?”

“If I can’t touch you let me at least taste you.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. Hands fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. 

“I beg your finest pardon?” you scoffed from pure disbelief, folding your arms over your chest. 

“Baby, you have at max three seconds to walk your fine self over here before I grab you myself.” 

“Was that a threat?” you glared at his sly expression, hooded gaze colliding with yours. 

“One …” his tone demanded a response. 

But, you didn’t move. Not even an inch. Aggravating the tension. 

“Two …” 

Who does he think he is? Grab you myself. Claw machine sounding ass. 

“Three …” 

You chuckled, giving him the nastiest eye roll before your muscles tensed up, seeing his 5’8 gym rat physique actually get up. 

“Okay! Alright! I’m coming.” you blurted in sheer panic, fixing your bottoms before doing the walk of shame toward his pleased self. 

Reaching out his hand, you pushed it away, reminding him of the deal. 

“Right here, love.” Jungkook grinned, marking his chest as a target for your landing. 

What a tease. 

“You know what, Koo. Fine. If you want to play games, let’s play a game.” you hissed with a wink, stripping out of the silk fabric before dropping it on his lap.  

“Fucking hell.” a growl escaped his parted lips as his eyes raked over your glistening skin, admiring every inch, every crevice of your body. 

He was needy, but you were too busy rummaging through the mini-fridge to notice how desperately he longed for your attention. 

“Perfect!” you exclaimed, shaking a bottle of whipped cream before straddling his lap once again. Except this time, in your black lingerie. One that was initially reserved for Jaewon’s eyes only until he decided to fuck you over. Now, the privilege was all Jungkook’s. 

“Y/n.” he breathed out heavily, creased forehead resting on yours. 

And, as you pressed your thumb against his chin, your index finger slid along his bottom lip, feeling his tongue lick the cream off your skin. 

“Just like that, baby.” you gave him a tiny nod of reassurance, glancing up at his doe-eyed gaze. 

Fuck, submissiveness never looked this good. 

“Y/n, please.” he whimpered, hands hovering over your skin before you finally gave in, intertwining your fingers with his. 

Unclasping your bra, you let his veiny hands rest on your perky breasts, decorating your hardened nipples with his special treat. 

“Taste me,” you purred, tugging on his bottom lip as his mouth opened in a half-moan. 

He was wasted. Big time. 

“You sure?” he had to double-check, searching your lustful gaze for approval. 

“I am. Enjoy your dessert, Jeon.” the words simply rolled off your tongue, like you’ve been meaning to say them all along. And, as you ran your fingers through his messy hair, slightly tugging on the ends, the built-up need within you slowly inched up, begging for his touch. 

Cupping your breasts in his burning palms, he peppered your skin with sloppy kisses, teeth grazing against the pinks of your sensitive nipples before biting down on the flesh. 

“Fuck” you hissed with your head jerked back. 

Sucking off the creamy delight that painted your swollen tits, his pierced tongue licked its way up to your parted mouth, marking your neck with purple hues of possession. 

“Koo,” you rasped against his ear, shamelessly rocking your hips back and forth as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten. 

“I know, baby.” he muttered, gently lifting your frail body before pinning it against the armrest of the red couch. 

Giving a little shake to the whipping cream that dropped from your hands, Jungkook levelled his face to yours, drawing a line down your stomach. And, as he watched you arch your back from the cold sensation, a spark of temptation danced in his darkened eyes, cheeks flushed from the sinful whimpers that escaped your parted lips until the warmth of his tongue eased the pain. 

Moving down the center line, his fingertips traced your ribs, a faint outline of which poked with each breath you took. In and out, your diaphragm was working overtime, trying to keep up with the suffocating demand. One that only fueled Jungkook’s cravings, as he tugged onto the black lace of your lingerie. 

“Compliments to the chef,” he whispered teasingly, gaze softening at the arousal that had your panties all drenched. 

“Jeon, stop staring, this is so embarrassing.” you whined, voice muffled by the pillow that covered your rosy cheeks as you desperately attempted to close your legs and simply vanish. 

“It’s not my fault someone forgot to order dessert.” he grinned, pulling you closer as his hold on your thighs tightened, before hooking your ankles over his bare shoulders. “Now, please. Let a man eat.”

Admiring your sleeping features, Jungkook cuddled into your chest, planting soft kisses on your marked neck before dozing off inside your arms until the buzzing of your phone startled him right out of REM. 

No Caller ID

“Y/n?” a man’s hesitant voice echoed in his ear. 

“She’s sleeping.” Jungkook muttered, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumb. 

“Who is this? Jungkook, is that you?” Jaewon exclaimed, evidently more on edge than before. 

“What do you want?” 

“Can I talk to, y/n?” 

“As I just said, she’s sleeping.” Jungkook’s tone was low, aggravated by the need to repeat himself.

“Well, can you wake her up?” 

“She seemed quite worn out after the fifth round, so I probably shouldn’t.” a grin curled his lips as you rested your head on his heaving chest, completely naive to the unfolded event. 

“What?” 

“Lose the number, Jaewon.” Jungkook gritted through his teeth, ending the call before tossing your phone on the edge of the bed. 

Feeling the warmth of the sun rays peeking through the silk curtains, you stretched your sore body, patting the mattress next to you before noticing Jungkook’s absence. 

“Mmhm?” you pouted, reaching for your phone to check the time. 

There’s no way you slept through breakfast and he didn’t wake you. Based on your history of ‘hangryness’ and emotional breakdowns that followed suit he should know better. 

7:45 am 

“Jungkook?” you called out, covering yourself with the sheer nightgown before knocking on the bathroom door, waiting for a response. 

Nothing. 

“Jeon?” you called again, this time scanning the living room. Everything looked frozen in time, left untouched from the night before — the empty bottle of wine and the stained glass marked with your red lipstick. But still, no trace of Jungkook.

Going back into the bedroom, you quickly brushed your teeth and changed into a baby blue sundress, opening up the blinds to let in the natural light.

“Shit!” you yelped, widened eyes staring at Jungkook’s sculpted back. 

Sliding the door just enough to pass by, you felt the goosebumps spread across your body as the morning breeze danced around your bare skin. 

“Oh, I thought you quit.” you gasped, brows knitted with confusion as you looked over his broad shoulders, the smell of cigarettes lingering between you two. 

“Yeah, well, I thought you cut ties with Jaewon. So … I guess we’re both disappointed.” Jungkook exhaled sharply, turning his head halfway to take in another puff. 

Something was off, he seemed distant, cold to the touch. 

“What? What are you talking about?” you asked, hands fidgeting with the straps of your dress. 

“He called last night.” 

“Why? Is he okay?” 

And, that’s when he erupted. Back pressed against the railing, his body turned to face your timid form, before muttering, “Do you care?”

“Well, no? But … if we stopped talking and you suddenly called I would want to know why,” you hesitated with the explanation, analyzing the way his forehead creased with each word.  

“Mmhm, except I never treated you like a scrumbag, did I?” Jungkook swallowed, rubbing his tattooed hand along his flexed jaw. 

“True, but you never pursued me either.” you snapped back, arms crossed over your burning chest. 

“This is a prank, isn’t it?” he scoffed maniacally, eyes twitching from disbelief. 

“I’m dead serious, Jeon. Why did you keep your distance if you wanted me so badly?”

He didn’t answer. Letting the two of you stare at each other for a split second, before finally taking a step forward, following your pace as your back hit the glass door. Leaning his hands on either side of your head, his broad shoulders hovered over you.

If this was his attempt at scaring you or somehow making you feel beneath him, it was not working. Because, as his face levelled with yours, your gaze furrowed, never breaking eye contact. Standing firm on what you said. 

“Y/n, I kept my distance because I wanted you so bad.” 

“Kind of dumb, don’t you think?” you pouted with a slight head tilt. 

By now, Jungkook was ready to combust. The adrenaline running through his veins prepared to set off his fight or flight response at any given moment. 

“Okay. Fine. How about I pursue myself into your ass, hmm?” he growled, tone demanding a response. 

“I'd looove to see you try.” you teased, eyes fluttering with innocence. 

“On the bed.” 

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, tongue poking the side of your cheek. 

“You heard me. Chop chop, baby girl.” Jungkook rasped against your ear, nibbling on the soft skin as a final warning. 

To be honest you really didn’t know what you were getting yourself into until his fingers ran down your spine, hands tightening their hold on your hips as his growing boner pressed against the arch of your ass. 

Fuck, he was serious. 

“From now on, I’ll be so close you’d have to scrub my scent off you,” he sneered, gently sliding his two digits over your folds, fingertips coated with your wetness as you remained on all fours. 

“Koo,” you whimpered, tugging on your bottom lip.

Parting your throbbing cunt, his pierced tongue licked your clit, thumb rubbing it in small circles before your moans grew louder. More desperate. More needy. Hazy mind unable to fathom the calmness you radiated just a few minutes ago. 

“Hold on.” he whispered, reaching for his wallet to grab a strip of condoms before ripping one open with his gritted teeth. 

“Tell me if this is dumb enough for you.” Jungkook teased, mouth sliding along your tensed jaw as he rubbed his erection against your clit, resisting the urge to fill you up right then and there. 

It was clear that your words irked him but he had to remain calm enough to not hurt you, forcing his annoyance to cool off with a verbal mock. 

And, as he slowly pushed himself in, whimpers escaped your parted lips, hands gathering up the white sheets into knots, feeling his cock stretch its way in against the warmth of your walls. Cautious of his pace, he needed you to adjust, pulling in and out until there was enough lubrication for the growing friction to feel good, painless.

“Koo,” you whined again, gasping for air as his lips left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your back. 

“Just like that, baby. You’re doing so good.” Jungkook reassured, softening his hooded gaze upon hearing your sweet sounds. The ones that poisoned his thoughts and invaded his dreams all those countless nights. 

Clenching your clit on his throbbing length, his vision grew in and out of focus, hissing at the tingling sensation. 

“Fuuuck, y/n.” he moaned, fingers digging into your ass, before jerking his head back. 

Picking up his pace, Jungkook went faster and harder. Slamming himself into you, until his twitching tip touched the surface of your cervix, making your toes curl in ecstasy, as a trail of juices ran down your trembling thighs. 

“Jeon, I'm gonna faint.” you cried out, feeling your throat tighten, lungs stripped away from air.

“Just a little longer, baby.” he muttered, chest heaving up from exhaustion. 

He was close. Very close. So, as your walls clenched around him for the sixth time, he could have sworn his dick melted. Became part of your anatomy, no longer attached to his person. Surrendered with a white flag. 

“Y/n, look at me.” he urged breathlessly, snapping the rubber off his sensitive dick before giving it a few more pumps, squirting his cum onto your displayed tongue, completely exasperating in the process.  

“So,” you swallowed obediently, “now that you've pursued my ass you'll quit smoking, right?” your doe-eyed gaze glanced up at his darkened orbs that watched you lick the dripping cum off his tip as you sat on your knees. Aware of his response, you brushed your lips against his, inviting his tongue inside before his burning body collided with yours, smiling into the deep kiss. 

“Well, technically, I didn't go near your ass. Not many girls like that.” Jungkook teased, tucking a few curls behind your ear.  

“Many girls, huh? How many?” you murmured, tracing the tattoos on his arm as your bodies laid skin to skin, staring at the white ceiling. 

“About five.” he answered, a bit too quickly for your liking. 

“Five? You man whore.” you scoffed with disgust, quickly retracting your hand from his. 

“Sometimes six, depending on which video loads first.” his nose scrunched in a tiny giggle once he saw your mouth drop, expression left dumbfounded as the dots in your head began to connect. 

So, that's what kept him busy all this time. Porn? Phenomenal. 

“Next time, I'll just stay curious.” you sighed, half disappointed yet, also relieved. He might’ve just lied straight to your face but sometimes, it's better to simply pick your battles, choosing to live in blissful ignorance than the chaos of reality. Whatever his reality entails.

[slttygeto]

JJK MEN AS DADS — headcanons.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥featuring: geto suguru, nanami kento and toji fushiguro.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥note: enjoy this alternate universe where everyone is okay and safe and happy.

╰┈➤ interested in sending a commission?

╰┈➤ GOJO'S VERSION

—GETO SUGURU ;

some of you might not agree with me on this but he probably never saw himself becoming a dad

sure he loves kids, they do annoy him when they’re loud and all over the place but he never thought that he would have kids

that is until you announced to him that you were pregnant, and his entire world changed

his daughter is pretty much everything to him but he doesn’t spoil her (gojo does)

he wants to teach her proper manners, the right way to communicate things and isn’t big on spoiling

and you both end up raising a sweetheart who’s in love with uncle satoru.

“baby, stay in my sights.” you heard suguru talk to your daughter as you both walked down the food aisle. she was well mannered, didn’t act up or tried to be bratty when told something (unless she was having a really bad day, which was very different).

watching your husband parent a child that looked like a mix of you both was a different kind of love. he was gentle, careful and most importantly trying to be there for her.

from taking her on daddy-daughter dates, to talking things out with her when she was mad at him or when she messed up, suguru proved himself worthy of becoming someone’s father.

“who knew someone else would come along, and you’d call them baby,” you teased the man with a small smile, letting him push the cart while you walked next to him. he shot you a playful glare before grabbing a can of tuna.

“don’t even start—i somehow got used to speaking in girl voice from being forced to attend her tea parties…” he sighs but you know it's far from a tired one. he looks at your daughter with so much love, so much adoration that your heart flutters.

you were incredibly lucky.

“tell me you love me in your girl voice, come on,”

"move."

—NANAMI KENTO;

this man was made to be a father

despite how tired he looks he always makes time for you and your girl

very lovey dovey and is very proud of referring to you two as his girls

whenever he is asked to hang out, he goes 'lemme make sure my girls dont need anything'

hes quite literally the best

most patient, loving and understanding husband/father

ever since you gave birth, kento and your daughter had a routine. you two would feed her at 8p.m when he comes back from work, he would then take her to the bathroom where he would bathe her then read her a bed time story. he would then kiss her goodnight, keep the small moon shaped light turned on before closing the door.

it was endearing because he put it on so much effort when it came to her. you knew it was the bare minimum for a father, but you were still very grateful that you married a good husband and an even better father.

both kento and your daughter were now in the bathroom. bath time usually took about twenty minutes to half an hour, and it would be filled with giggles coming from your four year old and kento's occasional chuckles. but it was oddly quiet, so you decided to go check on them.

when you opened the door, your heart melted at the sight. your daughter had fallen asleep in the bathtub, and so your husband was trying his best to get her out and dry her up before she caught a cold.

and he was doing it so quietly that you couldn't help but ask if he needed any help.

"baby, do you need help?" you whispered to the man holding the sleeping girl, lightly kissing his nape and squeezing his shoulders.

"I got this." he whispered in response, turning around and pressing a light kiss on your lips and forehead.

you watched with heart eyes as he gently woke her up to dry her hair, kissed her forehead and continued on with their routine, before it was time to say goodnight.

nanami kento was an angel sent from above.

—FUSHIGURO TOJI;

this man isn't new to parenting, in fact you knew you weren't his first wife

but you were accepting of it, helped giving the grieving man a second chance at life as he liked to say

you met megumi when he was still so young and the little boy loving you was enough reason for toji to confirm that you were indeed the right one

loving a child that wasn't yours wasn't given to everyone, toji was well aware of that

and as you watched the man parent megumi, you were a bit hesitant to announce to him your pregnancy

when you did tho, he sobbed like a baby

and twins? a boy and a girl? oh he was in for a ride

"you little rascals better let me love on my wife in peace." your husband whispered to the two sleeping babies in their cribs. it was 9p.m and they were fortunately fast asleep.

you on the other hand, were busy with your oldest.

finally after getting them in bed, you were with megumi in the kitchen asking him what you should pack for his lunch tomorrow, which the ten year old responded with what he typically always chose.

megumi wasn't a difficult child, but with the arrival of the twins, you were a bit worried that he would think you and toji no longer cared for him. dealing with twins wasn't easy, but you were aware and willingly brought two lives to his family, and were fully responsible for it.

when toji was with the twins, you would help out megumi with his homework. and when it was time to breastfeed the babies, toji would take megumi to basketball practice or engage in a random activity together.

"a juice box?" you asked while packing his lunch, which the little boy nodded at before staring at who was coming down the stairs.

"you got school tomorrow at 8?" toji asked megumi, and the little boy responded with a nod. not much of a talker.

"are they asleep?" megumi quietly asked his dad, who raised an eyebrow at him before saying 'yes' and you watched as your son fiddled with his fingers, anxious of what to say next.

"gumi, do you wanna see them?" you stepped in, a hand resting on his back. the little boy looked up at you with sparkly eyes, grateful that you understood him.

"go, and if they do wake up call me." you kissed his forehead and watched as he carefully tiptoed upstairs.

toji's eyes stayed glued on you during the entire interaction, and finally let his arms wrap around your waist once your son was upstairs before resting his forehead on your shoulder.

"thank you," he whispered out, pressing his lips to the side of your neck.

"for what?" you chuckled, caressing the taller man's back.

"for making everything feel like it's worth it."

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

[wintrwinchestr]

obedience | part 2

summary: a week ago, you and joel had experimented with a new kink, and it’s been on your mind ever since. you had been too shy to ask to try it out again, but joel always knows exactly what you need.

warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, pet play (egregious use of “puppy”, joel teaches you dog commands and refers to your hand as your paw, among other things), d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, praise kink, degradation/dumbification kink, cockwarming, edging, unprotected piv sex, creampie, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, etc), talk of reader wearing a collar, joel giving reader a bath/washing her hair, hella aftercare, reader has hair and can be carried by joel, implied age gap but reader is an adult, let me know if i missed anything!!

word count: 5.7k

a/n: literally nobody look at me please. this the most self indulgent self insert shit i’ve ever written in my life and if you get it you get it idk what else to say!!! anyway thank you for being patient with me and reading what i write, my big girl job takes it out of me sometimes but that’s what i write this type of shit to deal with <3 nice comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed or if this awakened something in you :)

(read part 1 here if you missed it)

dividers by @saradika

“You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”

It had been a week now since Joel had punished you, denied you for acting out over the phone, for disobeying him and sending him lewd photos of yourself when he had explicitly told you to stop. But you hadn’t listened, he wasn’t having it, and when he had returned home from work late that night, he had called you by a new name. Puppy, he had spat at you several times as he made you chase a ruined orgasm on his steel-toed work boot. 

The pet name hadn’t left your mind since then, repeating itself over and over, along with his question of if you wanted to be trained, if you wanted to be his pet. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself becoming desperate for it. Each day in the office was a struggle to stay focused on even the simplest of tasks, your thoughts overrun with fantasies of Joel getting you on all fours for him, giving you commands and praising you for following them, tugging you towards him by a finger hooked into a collar to tell you what a pretty puppy, what a good girl you’re being for him.

You’d left work every evening for the past several days with a damp spot in the seat of your panties, feeling ashamed by how depraved and inappropriate almost every one of your waking thoughts had become. When you would greet Joel at the door all needy and wanting, he would tease you with a “What’s gotten into you, lately, hm?”, but never push for more than you were willing to reveal to him, though he thought he might have had an idea. He would take you to the bedroom and have his way with you the way you liked, the way you had usually craved, before he had turned your world upside down by deciding on a whim to try somethin’ new that fateful night. 

Joel would be more than willing to try it again, to follow through with that question he’d asked you, but he decided he was content with waiting for you to come to him, for you to decide when you were ready for him to make you his good puppy once more.

–

The weekend begins just like any other. Joel’s internal clock wakes him up no later than seven in the morning, the sun just barely streaming in through the blinds in your shared bedroom. He tries to keep his creaks and groans to a minimum as he rolls out of bed, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before quietly padding his way into the kitchen to get a sizable pot of coffee brewing. He lets you sleep for another couple of hours, knowing full and well at this point in your relationship that he has the wrath of your grumpy morning attitude to face if he doesn’t. He does think it’s cute, though, how your face twists up into a pout but your eyes stay scrunched closed if he wakes you up at a time you deem too early.

When Joel does decide it’s a sensible time for the two of you to get a proper start on your generous two days off from the slog of your weekday jobs, he cracks the bedroom door open gently, making his way over to your still-sleeping form. He softly brushes some of your knotted hair out of your face as he places your mug of coffee on the nightstand beside your head, prepared just the way you like it. Whatever happened to good ol’ fashioned cream and sugar? Or just plain black, for that matter? Can’t believe you like it with all this cinnamon vanilla whatever you have me dump in it, he had teased, not long after you had first started sleeping over at his place. Can’t believe you drink it without anything in it. It needs at least a lil’ somethin’ sweet in it, you had bantered back to him, to which he was quick to reply with Got my somethin’ sweet right here, don’t I? before pulling you into his lap and kissing you hard until both of your cups ran cold.

You smile at the memory in your half-sleepy state, slowly blinking your eyes open to see Joel’s warm and familiar smile. “Mornin’, sweet girl,” he says, his grin only growing wider when you greet him back with the cute little squeal that comes out when you stretch your arms over your head instead of an actually intelligible word. “Got some emails and borin’ stuff to catch up on this mornin’, why don’t you just stay comfy and sip on your coffee while you wake up for a bit, hm? Probably be done in time to get lunch together somewhere, how’s that sound?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you reply softly, real words this time, as you push yourself up to sitting while Joel props your pillows up behind you for your back to rest against. You don’t put up much of a fight against the yawn that stretches your jaw, rubbing your blurry eyes as it does.

“Alright, gimme a kiss, sleepy girl. Enjoy your creamer with a splash o’ coffee,'' Joel taunts through a chuckle. He presses his lips to yours, and his coarse beard tickles the skin around your mouth, making you giggle. The smile hasn’t completely faded from your face by the time he slips out of the bedroom to head into his office, shutting the door gently behind him.

Extending a hand down to your nightstand, you hook your fingers through the mug’s handle and slowly bring it up to your face, careful not to spill any. He’d chosen your favorite Daddy’s Girl mug, the phrase written in bold pink text curved over a little illustration of two blue daisies. You always thought your coffee tasted a little better from this mug, somehow. Taking your first sugary sweet sip, you think the sentiment is as true this morning as it’s always been.

–

A little while later, when you feel somewhat more awake thanks to plenty of caffeine and sugar working its way through your body, you finally force yourself into comfortable clothes different from the ones you slept in. With your hair sufficiently tamed, face washed, and teeth brushed, you decide now’s as good of a time as any to try and act on the plan you’d been concocting over the past couple of days, waiting for a moment just like this to pounce on.

You still felt too shy to bring it up to Joel, to tell him how badly you’ve been wanting him to treat you like his little pet, and go even further with it this time. You know he’d never judge you for it, and he had seemed to like the experiment just as much as you did. But something about your little fantasy still felt taboo and shameful, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to use your big girl words and ask for it.

Though, you had finally realized, maybe you didn’t have to ask for it. Maybe you could quietly tip toe into his office one lazy Saturday morning and sit at his feet, nuzzle into his thigh until he brings a hand down from his keyboard to scratch behind your ear, asking you What’re you up to down there, babygirl?

And that’s exactly where you’ve found yourself now, answering his question with a dreamy whimper, leaning into his touch as the feeling of his fingers on your skin makes you smile so blissfully, wiggling on your knees.

“What’s got you feelin’ so snuggly this mornin’, hm? Just need some lovin’ from your Daddy?” he asks in his still-rough morning voice, gazing down at you affectionately.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his calf and rubbing your cheek against the soft leg of his sweatpants.

“Alright, lil’ thing. Just got a couple more emails to take care of and then I’m all yours, promise.” He removes his hand from your scalp to start typing again, and you pout in protest. 

Joel shoots a stern look down to you. “Poutin’ don’t typically get us what we want, now does it? Be patient, sweetheart, just a few more minutes.”

You release another upset noise, louder this time, and then he’s pushing his rolling chair back, your grasp around his leg coming apart as he does.

“Came in here actin’ so good and sweet, where’d this bratty girl come from, hm? If there’s somethin’ you want, gotta use your big girl words and ask for it, you know that,” he scolds, his expression becoming more serious.

You hadn’t meant to elicit this reaction from him at all, and it causes your eyes to well up as you stare at the carpet, avoiding his gaze. Opting to answer him with just a shrug, you fidget with your fingers in your lap to distract yourself from the sting behind your eyes. You do attempt to open your mouth and make your desires known to him, but think better of it, and any big girl words you did have swirling around in your brain are replaced by yet another half-hearted little whine.

A whine that sounds… a little familiar to him. 

“Oh, I see…” Joel muses, a little less authority in his voice as he assumes a more relaxed position in his desk chair. “I think I know what’s goin’ on here.”

You look up to meet his eyes, tilting your head in confusion. The action prompts his lips to tug into a knowing smile, and he leans forward in his seat, making a beckoning motion with his hand. “C’mere, baby. Between my legs.”

You obey immediately, crawling towards him to close the small distance between you, settling in a kneeling position between his spread thighs. “Good girl,” he praises, and the words make you beam as he cups your chin, the moisture that had been blooming along your water lines now forgotten.

“Think I know why my sweet girl ain’t usin’ her words with me this mornin’...” Joel says, scratching at the soft skin under your chin with his fingertips. You can’t help but lean into his touch, lashes fluttering, and it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.

“Reckon it’s because puppies don’t know to, hm? They just whimper and whine for attention from their Daddies cause they don’t know how to talk, ain’t that right?”

You let out a pathetic little noise when he finally says the word, the one that’s been dampening every pair of panties you own for the past week, but that you’d been too scared to ask to hear again. But you were right after all, you didn’t have to ask for it, because Joel always knows just what you need, somehow.

He uses his grip on your chin to nod your head up and down for you, and continues talking down to you in that gravelly tone of voice that makes you feel like you’re about to melt straight through the floor. “Yeah… ‘F you wanna be Daddy’s lil’ puppy this mornin’, tha’s alright with him. Figured you oughta be missin’ it by now, seein’ as how you liked it so much the first time around…”

You’re barely processing what he’s saying, your lips slack and eyes unblinking as your cunt releases little pulses of slick into your panties. Something about Joel seeing through you so clearly, calling you out on your newly discovered kink and using it to pull you hard and fast into this familiar saccharine headspace, has your whole body burning hot with arousal. 

“And if I know one thing about puppies, it’s that they need some trainin’, don’t they? ‘Specially impatient ones like the pretty thing I’ve got sittin’ at my feet. Don’t you agree? Don’t speak, just nod, babygirl.”

It’s unusual for him to request a nonverbal response, as opposed to a Yes, Daddy, but you’re grateful for the change as you allow yourself to fall deeper into your role. You give him what he asks for, a couple of eager nods in quick succession, even though you aren’t quite sure where he’s going with this yet.

“Asked you twice to be good and patient for Daddy, and all I got was poutin’ and whinin’ instead, didn’t I? Think my lil’ pet oughta learn her first command today: Wait. Because good puppies know how to wait for their treats, don’t they, sweet girl? Again, just nod for me.”

And you do, slower and with a little more guilt in your expression this time. But despite him making you admit to your disobedience, you’re not sure you’ve ever been more fucking soaked than you are right now. You’re throbbing, aching, shifting on your knees in an effort to get even the smallest bit of relief. You think you might be releasing little whimpers, but you can’t be sure, already feeling so floaty and far away from just his words alone.

Joel spots your desperate movements, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shifts in his chair, adjusting for his own arousal, and gets an idea.

“On second thought… Got another command I might like to teach you first. Somethin’ a lil easier for that dumb puppy brain of yours to understand, hm?” He tilts his head at you, lips curved into a mocking pout.

Your eyes flutter and roll to the back of your head involuntarily, his degradation prompting the instinctual response from you. Another syrupy slow nod lets him know you’re ready to learn, to obey to the best of your ability.

“Alright, sweet thing. When I say paw, want you to put your hand right on my knee here, ‘kay?” Joel explains, patting his muscled leg for clarity. “Paw, baby, gimme paw,” he coos at you, his tone not dissimilar to the one he uses to speak to actual dogs. 

Forcing your brain to work through the dense cloud of submission that shrouds it, you lift your hand and place it on his knee, just like he had demonstrated. His enthusiastic reaction to your obedience startles you at first, but you break into a beaming grin when you see the proud expression he wears.

“Good girl, tha’s a good girl,” he praises, scratching at the top of your head and ruffling your hair. Using his touch as a distraction, Joel places your paw over his hardening bulge with his unoccupied hand, the thick shape of him prominent through his thin sweatpants. He tightens his hand on top of yours, prompting your fingers to squeeze him. He guides your hand into massaging him for a second or two more, long enough for your melted puddle of a brain to connect with the nerve endings in your fingers. Your breath hitches when you realize what it is you’re feeling, your blissed-out expression morphing into a more desperate, wide-eyed one as you focus your attention to the movement of your hands.

“Yeah, feel that, sweet girl? Feel what you do to Daddy by bein’ so good for him?” He prompts, and your thighs squeeze together as you grope him. You can’t help but draw your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it to stifle the needy whimper that threatens to escape.

“You wanna sit on it, pup? Hm? Wanna keep Daddy’s cock nice ‘n warm while he finishes up his work?”

Your aching cunt squeezes around nothing at the premise, and you nod so hard it makes you dizzy. You move to push yourself off the floor and stand up, but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Ah ah, gotta use your words this time. Speak, baby,” Joel commands, and it takes you a second of searching to find the ability to do so again.

“Y-yes, Daddy, wanna s-sit on it…” you answer softly, and you’ve never heard your own voice sound so wanton. It comes out in a pitch that you almost don’t recognize as your own, featherlight and dreamy and desperate all at once. The need in your voice alone is enough to satisfy him.

“Good girl, just learnin’ all kinds o’ tricks today, aren’t we? Trainin’ you so well… C’mon up here, babygirl,” he permits, and uses his big hands and sturdy forearms to assist you in your awkward and eager climb into his lap. “Take it out, baby, get your treat.”

You whine as you situate yourself atop his thighs, tossing your head back with a dramatic flair, overwhelmed and frustrated by all he’s been asking of you. You just wanted him to turn your brain off, to praise you, to not have to think while he plays with you however he wants, and instead all he’s been doing is asking you to listen, sit, speak, obey. But of course, you should know better by now, that Joel likes making you work for it, to wait for it.

“Hey,” he scolds, grabbing your face and pulling your head forward from where it had flopped between your shoulder blades. “You were doin’ so well, bein’ such a good, obedient girl. Don’t start actin’ up on me now. Could always change my mind, not let you have your treat after all. You want that?”

 “No, Daddy…” you admit, your words distorted through the way your cheeks are squished together. He’s not using much force, just enough to keep your focus on him. 

“‘S what I thought… Go on then, pup,” Joel commands, and you make quick but clumsy work of freeing his already leaking cock from the loose confines of his sweatpants and briefs. He lets go of your face in favor of placing both of his hands on your hips, lifting you up while you pull your loose shorts and panties to the side, maneuvering his length to just barely prod at your wet little entrance. You flit your eyes from where the two of you meet back up to meet his gaze, hesitating while you look to confirm your permission one last time.

“Sit, puppy,” he says through a smirk, and you release a sharp whimper as you sink down onto his cock. 

On instinct, you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between Joel’s neck and shoulder, rolling your hips back in preparation for a satisfying buck forward. His grip on your skin turns iron, holding you in place and preventing you from chasing after your pleasure.

He cuts off your pout with a strict, “I say you could move?”

“Mmph– No, Daddy,” you mumble into his firm muscle.

He huffs a mocking breath through his nose. “Really are jus’ a dumb lil’ thing for me, ain’t you? You already forget what you’re ‘sposed to be learnin’?” “‘M sorry, Daddy–” the embarrassment from his demeaning words makes you squirm, and his grip on you becomes bruising.

“Don’t need you to be sorry. Jus’ need you to listen. You’re gonna wait like a good girl ‘til I say you can start grindin’ that messy lil’ puppy cunt on me. We clear?” he orders, his deep baritone traveling straight from your ear to your needy core, the dark thatch of hair at the base of his cock already damp as a result.

You hug yourself closer to him, little fingers clawing at his t-shirt in an attempt to ground yourself, and nod meekly.

“Speak,” he spits again.

“Y-yes, Daddy, clear…”, you whine, managing to lift your head up just enough for your voice to come out a little more coherently.

“If I let go so I can finish up my work, you gonna behave and hold still for me?” 

You don’t seem to have a choice, but you agree, anyway. “Mhm, yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now wait,” Joel instructs.

You aren’t sure how much time passes, the incessant clicks and clacks of Joel’s keyboard and mouse becoming more and more irritating with each passing second. Those sharp mechanical sounds, the vibration of his chest against yours whenever he clears his throat, the feeling of his pulsing cock as it splits you in two, it’s all so fucking much. You can’t help but release little whimpers and whines, pathetic pleases and Daddys that he either shushes or chooses to ignore. Any slight movement you make in an attempt to relieve some of the ache, he just responds to with a coo of wait, pup, and the tone of his commands as you twitching, clenching around him, soaking his cock more and more. It has to have been at least fifteen or twenty minutes by now, and at this point you’re sure he must be clicking around his desktop aimlessly just to drag out your training a bit longer.

Eventually, the noises stop, and Joel breathes a sigh as he replaces his large hands on your hips, their touch much more gentle this time. You lift your head from his shoulder to face him, wide and watery doe eyes frantically searching his face for a sign that the wait is over, that you’ve finally earned your treat. 

He grants you a soft smile, lifting a hand and using it to just barely grasp your chin, tilting your head side to side as he admires you.

“Got such a sweet girl in my lap, don’t I? Knew she could be good, just needed a lil trainin’ hm?”

You nod, already feeling so overwhelmed that your mind has started to drift elsewhere, to the relief you’ll hopefully be feeling in just a few minutes, after he’s finished toying with you.

He releases your chin, ghosting his hand downwards along the column of your throat, stopping when his thumb and fingers are resting on the tops of your collarbones. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just admires the placement of his hand for a moment, then hums.

“Neck would look so pretty with a collar wrapped around it, don’t you think, pup? With a lil’ heart-shaped tag danglin’ from it, engraved with my name so everyone knows that you belong to me? That you’re my puppy, hm?”

Fuck.

The sentiment alone, the domination and ownership of it all, has you crying out your most pathetic noise so far this morning, eyebrows peaked with need as you bite down on your lip so hard you think you might’ve drawn blood. Joel predicts your reaction, clamping down on your hip with his other hand to stop you from moving before he’s decided you’re allowed to.

Again, you nod, willing to agree to anything and everything he wants from you if it means you’re getting closer to getting what you want from him, what you need.

“Say it, baby,” Joel demands of you, his voice calm but commanding.

You tilt your head at him, humming a confused little noise, but he doesn’t elaborate. “Say it, c’mon,” he repeats. Your foggy brain is on a second or two delay, but it catches up eventually, and you realize what he wants to hear.

“I’m y-your… ‘m your puppy,” you say, softly, your voice tinted with embarrassment. 

“Wha’s that, sweetheart? Didn’t quite hear you. One more time for Daddy.”

You swallow hard, inhaling a shuddering breath before repeating the phrase a little louder, with a little less control. “I’m your p-puppy, Daddy. I’m your puppy, ‘m Daddy’s–”

“Yeah, y’ are, fuck.”

He moves his hand from the base of your neck back to your hip, and uses his strong grip to hold you still while he begins a series of sharp but rewarding thrusts in and out of your swollen cunt, each one seeming to hit deeper and deeper inside you. Falling against him once more, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face into him while you let him fuck into you like a doll. His movements are quick and desperate as he growls an incoherent string of filthy praises in your ear, his words accompanied by the sloppy wet sounds of skin on skin.

“Perfect girl, Christ, tight lil’ puppy pussy feels so fuckin’ good, always feels so fuckin’ good. Such a good girl, such a good goddamn girl for Daddy.”

The harsh bounce of your body in his lap jostles every last one of your thoughts from your brain, and he relishes in the animalistic cries and yelps you mumble into the flesh of your upper arm, now damp with your drool. He must feel the moisture as it pools underneath your face and wets the thin fabric of his t-shirt, because then he’s laughing at you, spewing more obscene words at you as he spears you up and down on his cock.

“Shit, are you fuckin’ droolin’ on me, sweetheart? Got this messy cunt and that pretty mouth both soakin’ me, Christ. This cock make you that dumb, hm? You Daddy’s dumb puppy?”

You are, you both fucking know you are, so you agree and repeat it back to him to the best of your fucked-out ability because you know it’s what he wants to hear. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to hear it too, the self-degradation lighting your whole body on fire as some of that heat forms itself into a tight ball in your tummy. 

Joel’s hips begin to stutter, his hold on you starting to falter, complete sentences turning into sharply whispered expletives as he nears his orgasm. He can feel you squeezing around him, notices the telltale sign of your muscles tightening and your breathing coming out in short bursts, and uses that four letter word against you one last time.

“Not yet, babygirl, don’t you fuckin’ come for me, not ‘til I say. Wait,” he spits through gritted teeth.

You were so ready, just teetering on the edge of your orgasm, all you needed was a few more jackhammering thrusts and you’d be careening down the steep cliff of it. It takes everything in you to hold it in, to not let go. But you’ve been so good for him, and Joel doesn’t have it in him to torture you much longer, and he permits you to finish just a few minutes later.

“Alright, come, puppy, come for Daddy,” he orders, and you spasm in his lap with a debauched cry, that ball of heat in your tummy dispersing through your bloodstream, igniting every one of your nerves and sending sparks flying behind your eyelids. He reaches his high at the same time, spilling his release inside of you the way you both like.

It takes a few moments for the both of you to come back into yourselves, heaving chests eventually matching each other in a more relaxed rhythm. Joel softly scratches at the back of your head while you place delicate kisses mindlessly along his neck and up behind his ear.

“You were so good, sweetheart. Always take everything I give you so well,” Joel quietly praises next to your ear. He touches his lips to the side of your head, then your temple, then gently maneuvers your face so that he can press a final kiss to your forehead. Your eyelids flutter open in response, and your lips tug into a sleepy grin as you focus on his face. “There she is, my beautiful girl.” He sweeps a few tangled locks of hair away from your face, and even though you know you must look like a mess, you let him admire you anyway.

“Still up to go out for some lunch? After we get ourselves cleaned up ‘n all,” Joel asks, shifting his gaze down to where his spend leaks from you, staining both of your clothes a darker color and dripping onto the fabric of his desk chair.

You pause, chewing on the inside of your cheek for a bit before shaking your head.

“No? Tha’s alright, sweet girl, don’t blame you one bit. You’ll still let Daddy get you cleaned up though, won’t you sweetheart? How’s about I run you a bath with some o’ that new flowery bubble bath you just got, hm?”

You light up at the premise, nodding eagerly, and Joel flashes his handsome smile at you in return. “Alright, hang onto me, baby,” he says, and you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he scoops you up and carries you to the bedroom, his softening cock still nestled inside you. The two of you detach when he sets you down on the small, handmade wooden bench adjacent to the tub, and leaves only for a moment to retrieve your favorite pink blanket from the living room. He wraps it around your shoulders when he returns, and starts the bath for you. He makes sure to squeeze a generous amount of the bubble bath into the roaring stream of water, ensuring that the bath is sufficiently fragrant and relaxing.

When the tub is full, with mounds of white soap bubbles threatening to spill over the smooth porcelain walls, he helps you strip out of your clothes, tugging your bottoms down your legs as you remove your own top over your head. Joel offers you one of his hands to steady yourself with as you step into the bath and lower yourself into the steaming water. It feels perfect, because just like he knows exactly how you take your coffee, how you want to be fucked without you having to ask, he also knows the almost-too-hot temperature of bathwater you prefer. 

He allows you to wash your own body, while he uses the cup you keep by the tub to douse your hair with water, using his rough fingertips to massage your favorite coconut shampoo into your scalp. You’re almost done scrubbing yourself by the time he’s raking conditioner through your damp ringlets, and then he’s rinsing you clean, the humid air in the room now smelling like a dozen different flowers and fruits, all of them mixing together to smell definitively like you. It’s his favorite scent in the whole world.

You don’t exchange many words during your bath, mostly enjoying the intimacy of the activity in silence. The action alone is enough to let you know how deeply the two of you care for each other, how much you trust and love each other.

When the water eventually runs cool, Joel helps you out of the slippery tub, and wraps you in one of your plush bath towels, a lighter shade of pink than your blanket, but just as soft.

“I’ll let you finish up in here, and I’ll see about orderin’ us some delivery, hm? I’ll get you whatever you want, and we can throw on a movie to watch while we eat, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, Daddy,” you reply, the bath leaving you feeling refreshed and more like yourself, able to find your voice again.

You settle on ordering your favorite fast food, and it arrives shortly before you tiptoe your way into the living room, your wet hair now pulled up into a clip while the rest of you is dry and comfortable, wrapped in a soft lounge set and your cozy blanket.

“There she is, the Poky Lil’ Puppy,” Joel teases, removing your containers of chicken tenders and fries from the plastic bag they arrived in, setting them on the coffee table in front of the couch.

You giggle at his quip, settling down on the cushion next to him. “I’m not… poky, or whatever,” you reply, in a tone of voice that isn’t sure if you’re supposed to feel complimented or offended.

He looks at you in minor disbelief for a second, then moves his head and brows in a gesture that suggests something like touché. “It’s the name of a kids’ book. Written a lil’ before your time, I guess.”

“Oh… I’ll take it, then.” You settle against Joel’s warm, sturdy form as you munch on a fry, watching the TV screen as he flips through the most promising of the half dozen streaming services he’s subscribed to. “You know…” you start, but let the rest of your sentence drift away, not sure if you want to continue.

“Yeah, babygirl?” he replies, and it encourages you to finish your thought.

“I really liked, um… what we did today. Earlier,” you continue, doing your best to push through your shyness in an effort to get better at communicating your desires with him.

Joel pauses his browsing, putting the TV remote on the table so he can meet your eyes. “In my office, you mean?”

You can’t help but smile cheekily at the memory. “Yeah… I really like being called… that, I think. And if you don’t think it’s too weird–”

“Course I don’t, sweetheart. Would never judge you for likin’ what you like. If it makes you happy, makes you feel good, if it ain’t hurtin’ anyone, then there’s nothin’ wrong with it, baby.” Joel’s turned his upper body to face you now, to make sure you understand the sincerity of his words.

You smile, and his reassurance gives you the confidence to continue. “I really like that… collar idea,” you admit softly. “Maybe we can try that next time.”

He tucks his tongue into the pocket of his cheek, his face forming into a satisfied expression. “Thought you might. Keep bein’ Daddy’s good girl, he just might get you one. Maybe a matchin’ leash, too, somethin’ to tug on when I need you to listen.”

Your eyelids perform their involuntary flutter, a quiet whimper escaping your lungs at the thought. 

“Alright, settle down now, baby,” Joel says through a chuckle, shaking his head before kissing the top of your head affectionately. “Got all the time in the world to try whatever we want. Just focus on eatin’ your lunch for now, sweetheart.”

You snuggle up close to him after he starts the movie you both decided on, happily eating your salty and savory meal as you watch. For the rest of the afternoon, you feel warm and satisfied for a few different reasons, the most important one due to how grateful you are to have Joel.

He takes care of you, understands you, and loves you like nobody else ever could. And it’s mornings like these that make you especially aware of that fact. You’ll be his good girl for as long as he wants you to be–forever, hopefully–and he’ll always give you exactly what you need in exchange for it. 

Even if that something might be a collar with his name on it, fit for his perfect little puppy.

tag list (no pressure if this one isn't your thing!!) @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw (if your name is crossed out it won't let me tag you!!)

[hitoshitoshi]

please more about xavier being obsessed with eating the reader out 😩😩 i swear that’s so perfect you’re writing it so well !! im going crazy

Ahh you're so kind <333 I'd rather say that I'm on the lower end when it comes to writing skills in comparison to everyone here. But alas, I too am obsessed with Xavier in a way, so I'll be a bit more detailed this time going around as a mini sequel.

How Xavier Eats You Out! [Pussy Eater!Xavier x Fem!Reader 18+]

Pussy Eater!Xavier would make sure to make take his time to pleasure you, not for your sake (well a bit of it being your sake) but mostly for his sake.

Pussy Eater!Xavier would start by spreading your pussy lips out with his thumbs to take a deep breath; to savor his favorite scent of his one and only favorite girl.

Pussy Eater!Xavier would use his lips to gently kiss and suck on your pussy, making sure that he was only giving you the most bare minimum sensations to make you thirst for more. Pussy Eater! Xavier likes it when you buck your hips up into his face, being all desperate for him. Bonus points if you get annoyed by him and you wrap your legs around his head and smush his face into your pussy. Pussy Eater! Xavier loves it when you get a little bit rough with him because it just fuels him even more.

Pussy Eater!Xavier knows where the clit is and would suck on it gently and then get harder the more you get turned on. He would use his tongue to lash at your clit, flicking it back and forth.

Pussy Eater!Xavier would make it fun for himself and take breaks while he eats out your pussy so you wouldn't cum. He'd tease you, pull back, then make you wait just to get your reaction. Pussy!Eater Xavier would edge you, bring you to the brink of cumming, then edge you again just to see you beg.

As Pussy Eater!Xavier is doing all of this, he'd be thinking about how much he loves you, and loves pleasuring you. He loves feeling your arousal, your pleasure, and your need to cum. He loves making you moan, whine, and tremble for him.

Pussy Eater!Xavier would also use his fingers to stretch you out and to curl up right into your G-stop. When he feels you get closer to cumming, he would increase his intensity; he'd suck harder, lick faster, and finger fuck you deeper.

Pussy Eater!Xavier would make you feel like you're losing absolute control of your mind and body, because he would make sure that you wouldn't even be able to focus on anything but him. And just when you're about to cum, Pussy Eater!Xavier would pull back and leave you hanging again.

You would have to beg Pussy Eater!Xavier on the days where he was feeling playful. Why? Because Pussy Eater Xavier's goal is to make you scream and beg for you to make him cum. To drive you into the absolute brink of insanity. For you to show him that you were willing to do anything for him and the pleasure that he could provide you.

Pussy Eater!Xavier just smiles it off when you start insulting him for edging you for the last couple of hours and tells you that he'll make it up to you. Little did you know was that you should've let Pussy Eater!Xavier have his fun earlier, because he was going to make you eat your words and make you cum and cum and cum again, leaving you all tired out with tears streaming down your pretty face, all fucked out from cumming and not being able to think a single thought.

A/N: He'd "innocently" bully you. If you like otome games, including Love and Deepspace, you should join Linkon Lounge! A discord server that's LGBTQ+ friendly (only serving those who are 18+) where we all can share our interests, talk to roleplaying bots (Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, and Sylus), and have fun game, movie, and stream nights where we stream games and/or cards that we pulled that others want to see. It would be super fun to have you as a member of our server. Click here to join Linkon Lounge! Masterlist

[rileyslibrary]

Penny for your thoughts

Synopsis: You’ve recently been transferred to a UK base and struggle with British currency. Your lieutenant is mortified—and rightfully so.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,286 (approx. 5-6 mins reading time)

Notes:

I thought it was funny when I wrote it, okay? It’s a crackfic. There’s some teasing and playful banter in there, but I can’t label it as fluff.

Warnings: Profanity. Lots of it.

More A/N at the end.

———————————————————————

You’ve been trying to escape the lieutenant’s grip for the past two hours.

The upcoming mission requires close combat skills, he said. You’ll need to infiltrate a facility with minimum weapons and immobilise—but not kill—the targets for interrogation.

You admitted to him that you hadn’t practised in a long time and your combat skills were a little rusty. But Ghost assured you this wouldn’t be a problem and offered a refresher course in ground fighting and submission techniques.

You never imagined this would be an issue when you agreed to it. On the contrary, your lieutenant was an expert in combat, and training with him could be considered a masterclass.

Looking at it now, with your cheek pressed against the floor and your body twisted like a nautical knot, you wish you could take it back.

The mats have become your second skin. Ghost relentlessly pins you to the ground and immobilises your limbs while explaining the mechanics behind each hold. Sometimes you wonder why he gets into so much detail since you can’t hear shit and are practically knocked out.

Yet, he doesn’t give up on you. He advises you to feel the weight shift, urging you to exploit the slightest openings, encouraging you to break free. Whenever he sees you’re struggling or senses you’re uncertain, he taps your hand or leg, giving you clues to help you.

He immobilises you once more, but he pats your back this time.

“Alright,” he says, standing up, “that’s enough for today.”

He walks to the bench, picks up his towel, and pats his neck. You roll on your back and spread your arms.

“I feel like a pretzel.” You whisper.

“Yup,” he confirms, “that’s Jiu-Jitsu for ya.”

Drenched in sweat, you push yourself off the ground and slowly walk to your bag. You extract your towel and begin rummaging through your wallet to find spare coins for a water bottle. You manage to find one pound, but unfortunately, you fall short.

“Lt.?” You call out.

He turns halfway to give you his attention while tugging the velcro straps from his gloves.

“Do you have fifty pennises?”

He stops midway and lets go of the velcro strap. It can wait. His eyes have formed two thin lines, and his eyebrows almost touch each other.

“Do I have fifty what, soldier?”

“I need fifty pennises.” You reply, this time louder, “Do you have fifty pennises?”

His eyes have changed. They’re not squinting anymore. They are bulging. He frantically looks left and right, bringing his index finger to his mouth.

“Shhhh!” He whispers and runs towards you, waving his other hand in front of your face. “Shut your mouth!”

He closes the distance between you and looks behind him.

“What is wrong with you?” He whispers.

You raise your eyebrows and blink rapidly.

“No,” you reply, “what is wrong with you?”

He lets out a sigh and looks at his surroundings once again. He scratches the side of his chin and clasps his hands in prayer.

“Tell me exactly what you want,” he requests more calmly this time, almost begging you, “Make a sentence out of it.”

“I’m thirsty.” You explain.

“Obviously.”

He’s starting to get on your nerves. You open your palm and raise it to his eye level.

“Look,” you order and point at the coin, “I have one pound.”

“I can see that.” He replies and puts his hand on yours, pushing it down so he can look at you.

“The vending machine needs one pound and a half.”

“Say it.” He commands and swallows hard, “The vending machine needs one pound and fifty...”

You clench your jaw and look at him dead in the eyes.

“Pennises.”

He lets out a snort and clasps his hand at the bridge of his nose. He turns his back to you and takes a few steps away. His shoulders move up and down.

“Ah, soldier,” he replies, still looking the other way. “that’s a lot of pennises.”

You run a hand through your hair and sigh.

“I know my pronunciation is probably wrong,” you state and shut your eyes, “but I need them.”

“Don’t say that,” he says between gasps, “you don’t need that many.”

With your eyes still closed, you start babbling about how wrong he is and how you wish you had a million of them so you could escape this hellhole and retire on an island. He squats to the ground and covers his masked face with his hands.

He sounds like he’s whimpering. You might have assumed he was sobbing if you hadn’t known the cause of his stance. But you knew why he was half crying, half laughing. It sounded hideous. It was hideous. You just can’t remember the word.

What’s it called, what’s it called...

You open your eyes. Ghost is walking towards you, wiping away tears from his eyes. He retrieves a fist of coins from his pocket and, muttering something under his breath, chooses two. He pinches a silver hexagonal-shaped coin with his fingers and shows it to you.

“This,” he says, “is fifty pence, or 50p.”

“Pence or p.” You repeat.

“That’s right.” He confirms and pinches a smaller coin with his other hand. “Now, this little one is a penny. Fifty of these are called fifty pennies.”

“Pennies,” you echo and slap your thighs, “See? Was it that hard to explain?”

“Oh yes,” he replies and nods slowly, “yes, it was that fucking hard.”

You lift your palm. “Can I have the big one?” You ask.

“Say it first.” He commands you.

You roll your eyes. “Can I have the 50p, Lt.?”

“Of course, you may have the 50p.” He says and places the coin in your hand, “What you absolutely may not have is fifty….” He stops and lets a repressed chuckle out.

You press your lips together and bite your cheek to not respond to his teasing. But you can’t.

“…pennises, I presume?” You sneer.

“Yeah, no.” He says and vigorously shakes his head, “You don’t want that.”

You wince and rub the back of your neck. Ghost tries to comfort you, telling you it’s ok and you shouldn’t feel bad, but he doesn’t believe it himself. He’s smiling beneath that mask; you can tell by how the grimace alters his voice. You thank him for the coin and walk to the vending machine.

“Soldier,” he calls out, “how many times have you said that word since you came to the UK?”

You tilt your head and try to recall.

“I can’t remember.” You conclude.

“You can’t remember if you ever said it, or there were so many occasions that you can’t count them?” He asks with a trembling voice.

“No, Lt.,” you reply, defeated, “I don’t remember asking another person for that.”

He looks relieved. He lets out a long exhale and rubs his masked face with his palms.

“I never thought I’d ever say this,” he says, “but I’m glad I was the first one.”

———————————————————————

A/N: I wrote this in March, along with this story (yes, they’re very similar). Although I liked the idea and thought it was funny, I initially discarded it because it felt stupid, and chose to post the other one (not like the other one is pure genius). It remains as such, but as I said, it’s a crackfic. I’m not researching how to improve human welfare.

[aliesbienish]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could please write a Paul x reader where the reader is super pregnant and is hungry all the time and eats the most random stuff and the pack teases her about it until Paul puts his foot down and tells them to back off

Thank you! I’m really enjoying the study of wolves🤍

Hi lovely anon, thank you for this sweet request - I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do x

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Recipe for Pack

There was no doubt who this baby belonged to, even in the womb. Since a few months into your pregnancy you’d been insatiably hungry, snacking continuously. Paul had always been the same, of course his excuse was his shifting. Unfairly that meant he got super hearing and strength while you needed to pee constantly and had nausea that rudely didn’t limit itself to the morning. So constant eating wasn’t an issue, it was the cravings that were becoming a hassle.

Paul, being a secret softie, had tried to cater to your every whim. Whether it was chocolate covered zucchini’s or melted cheese topped ice cream, he kept the judgement to a minimum. However these odd cravings did often lead to late night trips to the nearest 24 hour store located in Forks, a forty minute round trip. One particularly bad evening had him chauffeuring you 70 miles at 3am to Port Angeles, purely for a a chocolate milkshake and fries that got dipped into it. It was a miracle the machine wasn't broken.

But while Paul was nothing but accomodating, it couldn't always be said for the rest of his pack mates. Eating a hot dog with raspberry jam caused Jared to make vomiting noises. Adding leftover mash potato to a smore prompted Quil to question whether you needed a visit to a psychologist. Even sweetheart Seth made a quip that your cravings seemed like ingredients to a witches potion. Which was probably fair, as you munched on a buttered bread covered with rosemary.

But one comment, made sitting around Emily and Sam's dinning table took it too far.

Sitting with what to you seemed like a delightful combination of peanut butter and hot sauce bagels topped with orange slices, it was enough to elicit a groan.

"This seems to be getting way beyond normal now. I'm beginning to wonder if you are actually having these cravings or if you just like to make everyone else uncomfortable!" Jacob declared jokingly, but with your out of control emotions it was enough to stop you mid bite and feel shame.

"Right? I think next she'll just eat straight from the trash, it's not like she is far off!" Laughed Quil, causing laughter around the table.

Your eyes watered as you choked out "I'm sorry,"

"No, don't you dare apologise." Paul stated, gently placing his hands on your shoulders. "It's these morons who have no right to be teasing you." Turning to address the pack he gave them a hard stare. "You are all being absolute dicks. She's trying to survive extreme changes to her body, something we should be particularly understanding about, but instead your being rude and judgemental. If you all don't get your shit together and start being supportive then I will absolutely see if beating some sense into you in wolf form will help the process,"

The next evening you were all once again sitting around the dining table. The pack, showing their support, were all eating your newest and rather tame craving - chocolate covered bacon.

Sam got everyones attention and raised his fork in a toast "To our newest pack member,". The rest of the pack raised their own cutlery and echoed the sentiment.

This time the tears in your eyes were from happiness.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[6emo6zombie6]

RDR2 relationship/sexual headcanons -- F!reader

(Arthur, John, Dutch)

I've been seeing these a lot, and it would be fun to share my own. So, here you go! Warning for NSFW stuff though ;) I might make more of these in the future but I'm out of ideas for other characters at the moment.

__________________________________________________________

Arthur:

Absolute sweetheart, will do anything for you.

Can’t stand to see you crying. Usually, he’s reserved, but around you, he’ll coo softly and hold you in his arms.

“Shh… hey, I’m here. You’re safe.”

Always shares his food when he’s around you. And if there is no food, he’ll share his cigarettes.

He won’t admit it but loves it when you pick flowers for him. Usually, he keeps them in an empty whiskey bottle beside his bed.

Will ask you to help him pomade his hair, though you both know it’s because he likes getting scalp massages.

He’ll somehow always find a way to escort you.

“I’ll walk with you to your horse” “Need me to come with you?” “You sure you’re okay goin’ on your own?”

Not a fan of holding hands, though he’ll have his arm over your shoulders or around your waist most of the time.

Looooovessss hugging you from the back.  

Not opposed to you grabbing his ass once in a while.

Loves forehead kisses, whether it is receiving or giving them.

~~~~~

Not rough in bed—rather thorough. He won’t break the bed or have it slamming against the wall, but he spends a while preparing you. Foreplay lasts an hour minimum until he decides you can take every inch of him.

Will overstimulate himself if it means you’ll cum.

Not loud, but he takes pride in hearing you moan his name.

If he doesn’t have the energy to have full-blown sex, he’ll sit you on his lap and finger you until you’re trembling.

Not the biggest fan of receiving head, since it makes talking practically impossible for you, and he hates silent sex.

Enjoys handjobs while making out, though usually he’ll only accept one if he’s drunk.

Constant compliments.

Lap sex??? To Arthur, there is nothing better than holding you close while you bounce on his cock.

John:

Not all too touchy, but he’ll stare at you like you’re an angel 24/7.

Likes it when you hug his side, especially if you're shorter than him so he can tuck you under his arm.

Will randomly polish your shoes or your saddle.

Never forgets to give you a kiss when he leaves camp.

Usually confused when you’re upset or angry, but he’ll try his best to talk you through it.

Very protective of you, especially around other men. He's constantly worried that you might get hurt.

Stubborn as a bull, though he means well. The two of you always seem to be making up for arguments.

Always the big spoon.

Never skips out on a night of drinking with you.

Lets you sit on his lap, though usually only when he’s tipsy.

~~~~~~

Obsessed with hearing you plead. He’ll make you beg for absolutely anything.

If you’ve misbehaved in any way, he’ll punish you with abstinence.

On the other hand, he praises you for everything you do right.

“Yeah, that’s it, good girl.” “atta girl…” “You’re doing so well.”

Always on top. Probably because his ego is a little fragile.

Likes to switch between quick sex and passionate sex every once in a while. One day he’ll be ramming into you for twenty minutes, while the other he’ll spend the same time just getting you undressed.

Dacryphiliac—he loves watching you cry for all the right reasons.

“You look so pretty like that, sweetheart.” “Look at you, such a mess for me.”

Only loud when you are.

Very courageous in bed, but he gets shy the next morning when the majority of the gang starts teasing him for the marks on his neck or the foul noises they heard coming from his tent.

Dutch:

(This one is for the girls with daddy issues, bear with me.)

Almost exclusively calls you pet names, never your actual name.

Stuff like “Sweetheart”, “sugar”, “My girl”,,, etc.

He’ll make sure everyone knows you’re his, usually introducing you as his girlfriend right away.

Likes picking out your clothes for you.

Tells you about the books he reads whenever he can.

The absolute master at calming you down. Whenever he sees that you’re upset, he’ll take you to his tent and sit you on his lap, then he’ll calmly talk things over with you until you’re calm again.

Yeah, loves having you on his lap.

Enjoys braiding your hair or pinning it into a bun.

Loves hugging you from behind when you’re doing your chores or talking with other gang members.

Will bathe you whenever he gets the chance.

~~~~~~

Rarely ever takes his clothes off, but forces you to be completely naked all the time. It adds an extra layer to the power dynamic that the two of you have In bed.

Bends you over his lap and spanks you whenever he feels you pay too little attention to him.

Also loves fingering you on his lap, though it’s more to tease than to make you cum.

Will go absolutely crazy if you sit on his lap and grin your ass into his bulge. It doesn’t even matter if anyone’s around because he’ll just excuse himself and drag you into his tent.

He wants everyone to know how good he makes you feel. If you’re not moaning his name or whining under his touch for everyone to hear, he’s not interested.

He expects you to follow every order that he gives you. You’re not getting his touch if you disobey.

You calling him “sir” makes him instantly grow hard.

Always leaving scratches and hickeys on you for other people to notice.

Enjoys lightly choking you when making out, just to show what could happen if you were to misbehave.

[poppy-metal]

that first fuck after you and art get back together in fail marriage au goes on for HOURS. like you just don’t get tired and you can’t stop touching each other and relishing in the fact you’re allowed to now. you both cry like 4 times each MINIMUM. but towards the beginning art doesn’t fuck you for so long. doesn’t even let you touch him. he just spreads your legs and plays with your pussy with his face inches away. with his nice long fingers spreading you open, playing with your clit stretching your little cunt open on his fingers occasionally, watching you get wetter and wetter under his watchful gaze. he just talks to you and plays with you and ignores it when you whine and beg for more because you’re his again. you’re his and he’ll do what he wants with you. he’ll look for as long as he needs to feel safe, like you won’t disappear again. he’ll look until it feels real, that you trust him enough to let him see all of you again. so he breathes on your wet, fat pussy. he touches it for what feels like hours, but is probably more like 30 minutes. just his fingers. just playing. touching you however he wants to touch. making you feel however he wants you to feel. you’re his. he’ll fuck you when he thinks you’re ready. god.

oh it's the most intense sex of either of your lives - arts finally managed to wrangle your ass into his bed - you're wearing his ring again - and things are already different from before. he yanks your panties down your legs, nearly tearing the fabric. and when you sit up with a gasp he's pressing you back down, not asking, not pleading for it, he grips you under your knees and shoves them up your chest "dont put these down." he tells you - "god, i need to look at you."

not eat you out - though he plans on doing that plenty - but look at you. kneeling before you and sliding his palms down your trembling legs. you hook an arm under your knees to keep your legs up like he asked - no, told you to - already so fucking wet. he rubs up and down your thighs as he just.... looks. the pretty pout of your cunt - the fat jut of your lips. he lets his mouth fill with spit, the phantom taste of you on his tongue - salty and sweet. "you're so pretty down here. fuck." can't believe this is all his again. when he thought he'd never have you again, when he thought he'd never get to see, or taste, or be inside you again. worse than torture.

when he gently parts you with his fingers you gasp. "art..." but he shushes you, because hes not done. holding your lips apart with two fingers - the wet sheen of your slit pulsing in front of him. god. he loves you. he loves you so much. you're so pretty and perfect and wet.

"you don't take this from me again." he squeezes you with his free hand. "i mean it." his voice sounds deep and rough, and your cunt throbs at the possessive cadence in it. yes, yes.

"i wont -" you tell him, breathless. "please - please i need you so bad."

he leans forward. his on the back of your leg. his hair tickles you and one of your hands reaches down to run through his hair. soft and silky. you're gonna run your hands through it everyday, you think. your husband. you'll never stop.

"say it again." he sounds like hes begging now. he runs his thumb through the wet center of you. petting through your slit - nudging against where you start to give - pushing inside just the barest inch. "say you need me."

"need you - " you tell him. you say it again and again and art groans. his cock throbs in his boxers but that part wont come till later. after he's had his fill with you like this. he folds back the hood of your clit, sucking in his breath at the sight of your throbbing little clit. perked up and nearly bulging with desire. flooded with blood and fat with need. it twitches when he brushes a knuckle over it. your hips jerk.

"so fucking pretty - you're so fucking sweet, baby. god. this pussy -" he rubs circles, gentle and teasing around your quivering bud. his thumb gets drenched in your slick when you react to that. "yeah, you like being told how fucking gone i am for your pussy? how much i suffered without it? you're never leaving this bed again."

an exaggeration, but you whine all the same. you'd stay in bed as long as he wanted. let him pet and play with your body - because it was his to enjoy. and you happily gave it over to him.

when his tongue touches you - you nearly flinch off the bed. body like a livewire from his prolonged exploration - but his hands band around your waist. press you down into the mattress. his tongue traces the path his fingers went, swiping through your wet slit, down, down down. he dips it inside you. moaning full bodied as the taste of you soaks his tongue. his nose bumps your sensitive clit and your eyes nearly roll back. he's licking inside you - sweeping and caressing along your walls - like he's trying to pull out all your juices, suck them back into his mouth. there's an obscene wet slurping sound but it just makes you wetter for him.

he makes you cum at least three times on his face before he even starts working his thick cock inside you.

[gators-aid]

decode (pt. 2) - toji f. x reader

previously titled: leave us

masterlist.

part one. | part three.

you and toji fushiguro have been in an on-again-off-again relationship all throughout high school. over the summer break after graduation, you find out you're pregnant. too bad toji has already skipped town after your last breakup.

tags: fem!reader, gun violence, harassment, physical violence, mention of domestic abuse (not between toji & reader), teen pregnancy (reader and toji are both 18-19 range), mentions of abortion, mentioned that toji sold drugs, americanized setting, non sorcerer universe, 00's setting, reader is megumi's mom, toji initially denies megumi is his, i aged up gojo, geto, and shoko so you can have some frens, exes to lovers (eventually), their relationship is toxic rn, not beta read we die like toji :(

wc: 2.7k

4 years later..

You pull Megumi’s hat over his ears to protect them from the cold and squeeze his body closer in your arms. “My mom can’t watch him today, she’s got a doctor's appointment. Shoko and Geto are working right now, too! I promise he won’t cause any trouble. He can sit in a booth while I’m working. Pleeeease, Nanami! You know he’s a good kid!” You beg your boss. He looks down at you and your son, contemplating which rules this would violate. 

It’s Gojo who comes to your defense.

“Come on Nanamiiii, I can help her keep an eye on him! You won’t have any problems, my Megumi is the sweetest little thing, aren’t you baby? Aren’t you?” He leans over to squeeze Megumi’s cheek until Megumi turns his head into your chest to escape Gojo’s teasing. 

Gojo had taken up working at the diner with you after he dropped out of college on account of, “My family has enough money for me to never have to work again. Why would I waste it in college when I can spend my youth working a minimum wage job for fun?”

You and Shoko had punched him in the face for that one. 

“Any disruptions to the customers and you’ll have to figure something else out, Y/N. This is a one time thing. Gojo, don’t let the kid be a distraction to you. You need to stop forgetting you have tables all the time.” You smile and give Gojo a victory high five. “Are you excited to spend the day with mama, Megumi?”

Megumi had turned four a couple of weeks ago. You two now lived in your own modest apartment. It was close to your mother’s house and your job. Usually your mother would keep Megumi for you during work hours, and when that wasn’t available Gojo, Geto, or Shoko would help you out. With all four contenders busy, there was no choice but for you to bring Megumi with you to work. Babysitters and daycare were out of the question on your salary of shitty tips. You could barely afford the apartment. The only way you could get furniture into it was on a loan from Gojo (which he refused to let you pay back). 

You, Nanami and Gojo walk into the back of the building through the kitchen to punch in. “Our little Megumi’s gonna be joining us today!” Gojo announces to the kitchen staff, mainly comprised of high school students and Hakari. You hear various coos as you walk Megumi through the kitchen. “Can you say ‘hi,’ baby?” You whisper to Megumi through his knitted hat. 

He pulls his face from the interior of your sweater and meekly waves to the staff, who all burst into bright smiles. There had been a few times your mother had brought Gumi to the diner to see you during hours, meaning the staff had not only heard of, but had seen Megumi around quite a bit. 

Megumi, unlike his father, was incredibly shy and quiet even for his young age. He was one of the best babies you could ever ask for. He cried of course, even had a nasty case of colic when he was little, but on average he cried far less than a normal kid. For a while you were concerned, bringing him to every doctor your insurance would allow to get second opinion after second opinion. Their conclusion? It’s just his personality. 

"It seems like he cried all his tears out during his first couple of weeks!" One doctor had joked. Yeah, so had you.

Every time you looked at Megumi, you saw Toji. Their resemblance was undeniable. Sometimes it felt as if he hadn’t inherited a single genetic trait from you. Some days, it made you more sad than others. You hadn’t seen any baby pictures of Toji, didn’t think his family even owned any, but if you had to guess, Megumi had to be the spitting image. You’d see old classmates you hadn’t talked to in years only for them to comment on how much they resembled each other. Not knowing about you and Toji's dramatic breakup.

You and Gojo punch in and take off your coats to hang them up on the rack. Yuki, one of your newer coworkers, bursts through the door with a few empty water glasses. “Agh, thank god you two are here!” She exclaims, setting them down by the sink. “I’ve got this table of guys that are driving me batshit. The kitchen guys don’t get it. I need a freakin’ break.” 

You giggle at her and take off Megumi’s hat from where you’re holding him on your hip. “I can take the next one!” You hang up Megumi’s hat next to your coat. “Just let me get him situated.” Yuki gasps and runs over to you. “Hi Megumi! I’ve heard so much about you! It’s nice to meet you, I’m Yuki! Oh my god, Y/N he’s so freakin’ cute!” She exclaims. 

Gojo and Yuki get to talking shit about her table while you walk out onto the floor to choose a booth for Megumi to sit. You choose the one furthest from the door and closest to the kitchen and set him down on a side where you’ll be able to see him clearly for the majority of your shift. “Okay Gumi, I’m gonna be working but I’m gonna come over and check on you a lot too, okay?” You set your bag next to him and pull out a few toys and a coloring book. “I’ll get the kitchen guys to sneak you some food, okay?” He nods and grabs a blue crayon from his half empty box. “Okay, mama.” He replies in the sweetest voice you've ever heard.

You give him a kiss on his forehead and move a piece of his hair behind his ear before moving to the other side of the booth and adjusting your waist apron. “Y/N, you got table three.” Yuki announced. You looked behind you to see Gojo and Yuki approaching Megumi’s table. “Megumiiiii! What are you coloring?” Gojo slid into the seat next to Megumi and his toys. 

“How many?” You asked Yuki. “Just two.” She responded, “The one guy’s hot, maybe you could get laid tonight.” You scoffed. “First of all, don’t say shit like that on the floor when we have customers who may hear you.” You give her a pointed look, “secondly, you’re too young to be talking about intercourse. You’re like twelve.” You smile at her and turn around to go greet your table. 

“I’m literally 18!” Yuki exclaims as you walk away.

“Exactly the point!” Gojo responds for you.

You pull out your server book as you approach your table and click your pen. “Hi, I’m Y/N, welcome to-” when you look up, you freeze. 

First, you see Jinichi, Toji’s brother. When your eyes move over to the other side of the booth, you see him in the flesh for the first time in five years. 

He’s looking down at the table, so you can’t see his face, but from his build alone you can see he’s almost doubled in muscle mass since you last saw him. His hair is longer, bangs falling over his eyes, and he sports a black muscle tee to show off how much he has bulked up over the years. He's intentionally avoiding your gaze.

All the feelings you’ve felt over these five years, anger, rage, resentment, loss, pain, sadness. They all come rushing back at once. Five years of wondering what he was up to while you stayed up with Megumi as a newborn when he had colic and wouldn’t stop crying for almost a month straight. As you operated on auto pilot and almost cried when you saw him smile again. As you cared for him through his first flu, which you had eventually caught too. Rushing him to the hospital for a slight rise in temperature as your mother convinced you over the phone that everything would be okay and you sobbed hysterically. When Megumi took his first steps, when he said his first word. You always thought of Toji. 

How would he have reacted? You may not have trusted him, but you don’t think he’d be a particularly bad father if he were to put in the effort. Every time Megumi smiles, every time he frowns, it looks like Toji has walked right back into your life. When you two talked about kids, it was never very serious. You always talked about the idyllic. How many you’d have, what their names would be, if you’d move out to the countryside so they’d have space to play. You never discussed how you wanted to raise them, how you two would afford it, if Toji would stop dealing.

“Well, well, fucking well!” Jinichi starts. “This is just fucking hilarious!” You can see Toji tense up where his elbows rest on the table. Jinichi leaned back in his seat looking back and forth between you and Toji. “High school fucking sweethearts! Look at this shit, Toji, that's your girl right there! Hey Y/N-” Before Jinichi can finish his sentence, Toji bangs his hands on the table, making the condiment bottles rattle loudly, and bringing the entire restaurant's attention towards the three of you. Toji mumbles something under his breath that you can’t pick up. You’re still physically frozen in place.

Jinichi had always been an asshole. Toji didn’t like you to go over to his house for multiple reasons relating to his family, but one of the major ones was because of his brother. Jinichi always had a smart mouth. Liked to put dumb ideas in Toji’s head, one of which was the one that eventually got him shot and bleeding out on your bedsheets.

“Ahh, come on little brother. You’re so intense nowadays. We’re here for a good ol-”

“We’re here for fucking business, Jinichi. Shut the fuck up. We don’t want nothin’.” Toji says, finally addressing you without even looking your way. You feel someone grab onto your shoulder and quickly turn to see Gojo. He gently pulls you away from the table. 

“I- I didn’t-” you begin, before Gojo can even get you five feet from the table, Jinichi is back at it. “Hey, what the hell, don’t take my waitress! I ain’t ordered nothin’ yet! Hey Y/N, you look good by the way! Usually girls get ugly after they have babies!” 

It’s so sudden and quick that if you weren’t five steps away, you wouldn’t have seen it at all. Toji leans over the table, somehow calmly and aggressively at the same time, to grab his brother by the collar of his shirt. “That’s enough. Don’t make me fucking tell you again.” He says, his tone quiet and deadly. 

All you can think about is Megumi, where the fuck is Megumi? He’s your priority right now. Your head whips toward Megumi’s table, where you see Yuki with her hand on Megumi’s shoulder as he watches you intensely. 

“Fuck. Gumi.” You whisper to yourself. 

You pull away from Gojo’s grasp to race toward your son. “Mama..” he whispers as you reach him and pull him tightly into a hug. “It’s okay honey. Don’t worry about it.” You firmly grasp the back of his neck to ground yourself. This is exactly why you had said all those things you said to Toji all those years ago. You didn’t want your child growing up in an unstable environment. You didn’t want Toji’s issues to be a cause of stress for yourself or for Megumi. It'd be slightly different if these were two random guys in the diner. Sure, you'd shield Megumi if it got intense, but the fact that one was his father made the hair on the back of your neck stand up at the slightest movement.

“You look sad mama. Did the big men hurt you?” You laugh at his innocence. “No, baby. They didn’t hurt me.” They did hurt you. In a deep emotional way that you didn’t feel like explaining to a four year old right now. “Let's go honey, little kids shouldn’t see this.” 

“I’m a little kid, right?” He asks. “Yes, you are.”

“What the hell is going on?” You hear a booming voice come from the kitchen door and see Nanami walking towards Toji’s table. “Nothings going on!” Jinichi yells. “You know how the little brothers are, always got a goddamned inferiority complex goin’ on or somethin’!” Toji still has a grasp on his shirt as Jinichi is yelling at Nanami. 

“I’m going to have to ask you two to leave.” Nanami says calmly. “I ain’t fucking leaving. I came here for some fuckin’ service from my brother’s old-” Suddenly, Jinichi’s head is being slammed onto the table, and a collective gasp is aroused from the restauraunt. 

“Come, Gumi.” You pick him up in your arms. “Yuki, can you pack his stuff up for me please?” You ask as you contemplate your next move. “Of course, of course.” You can’t head to the front or kitchen door without Gumi potentially seeing more violence. You would have to rush past in the hopes that nothing else happens while you’re moving by. The kitchen door is closer from here, less potential for Megumi to see anything. 

“Ok, Gumi. Can you close your eyes for me real quick, baby?” You ask, rubbing his back. “Ok, mama.” You move Megumi so that his face is pressed to your chest and book it toward the kitchen door. You hear more commotion as you pass by, but will yourself not to turn around and check. Gojo and Yuki follow you in from behind with your bag. When you’re in the kitchen, you’re quick to set Megumi on the ground to grab his hat and secure it on his head. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I never would’ve given you that table if I knew.” She apologizes as she hands you your bag. You laugh. “It’s not your fault Yuki. By the way, remember what I said about no intercourse? You wanna implement that policy because of fuckers like him-” “Mama!” Megumi chastises. “Sorry, bad word.” Yuki lets out a relieved sigh.

“I didn’t even see them walk in, Y/N-” Gojo starts. “Oh my gosh guys, it's not a big deal! Seriously, I’m just worried about Gumi seeing anything.” Even as you say this, your hands shake as you attempt to zip up Megumi’s coat. Gojo gives you a knowing look and grabs your own coat off the rack for you. 

“I just, um, need a little break. I can’t afford to lose out on the money tonight.” You say, grabbing your coat from him and sliding it on. “I’ll cover you-” Gojo starts, but you interrupt. “I’m not taking money from your family, Gojo!” You pick up Megumi and hold him on your hip. “I’m not saying that. I’ll split the tips from tonight with you. My apology for not seeing them before.” 

“No, Gojo.”

Nanami walks in the kitchen door. “Take the day off,” he says to you before walking back to his office. “No, Nanami I’m ok I’ll just take him to my mom’s really quick-” 

“You’re too shaken up to do anything else today. I’ll schedule you more next week to make up for it.” Nanami supplies. “Thank you.” You say, silently relieved. Was your distress seriously that obvious? You would have to tone it down in front of Gumi.

“Wooow Nanami you’re such a good manager-” 

“Can it Gojo, you’re gonna have to pick up the slack tonight.”

You’re already making your way out the back of the building when Gojo responds with a whine.

“Hey what the hells going on out there?” Hakari asks as you walk by. “Some bullshit.” You respond. “Mama!”

You weren’t even in the building for thirty minutes today, but it feels thirty degrees cooler when you walk out. The trek to the bus stop is gonna suck. 

It's a ten minute walk from the diner to the bus stop. You cling onto Megumi for warmth, making sure he's buried not only in his own coat, but in yours. When you get to the bus stop, you realize it’s gonna be another fifteen minutes before the bus comes. Megumi isn’t one to complain, but you can feel him shivering under you. “Just a little longer baby.” You soothe him, rapidly rubbing his back and arms in an attempt to warm him. 

It must be some sick joke for an old pickup truck to pull right in front of the bus stop and roll its window down. 

“Do you need a ride?” Toji asks.

You've gotta be fucking kidding.

part two is up! thanks so much for all the love on the first on! 70 notes is crazy!

pls send requests or questions to me! and also let me know if i missed anything in the tags!

thank you guys !!!

(i'll make a masterlist maybe when pt 3 goes up but im too lazy rnnnnnn)

[flomelias]

mortal kombat ; them giving head!

requested by no one! afab reader. includes tomas, mileena, & johnny cage. warning for nsfw. fandom masterlist found here. ♻️ . . . author notes: reuploading this from an old account of mine :p had to make this new house a home somehow. enjoy!

tomas vrbada!

— probably has a map of your pussy etched into his brain. he knows every square inch of your body as if it was his own, so it’s only natural. he loves eating you out just as much as you love getting eaten out. tomas is more than willing to stay in between your legs for hours on end, making you cum over and over. if you get off, he gets off. that’s all he cares about. hearing you moan and feeling your legs squeeze against his head is just a bonus.

— he loves to serve you, so he doesn’t mind doing whatever you ask him to do. he’s extremely skilled all on his own though, so tomas doesn’t necessarily need any guidance. he’s a sensual lover for the most part, slowly dragging his tongue across your clit and occasionally pressing kisses to it, as if to worship you. with him, it’s all about building up to something a bit more.. exciting. you’ll notice the change of pace once he slides his tongue inside. he’s never really rough unless you specifically request for that, but he’s not exactly slow like he was before.

— his tongue will dart in and out, teasing you almost. tomas has a not-so-small thing for bondage, but if his hands happen to be free then he’ll hold onto your thighs, gently rubbing circles into your skin with his thumbs when he’s not busy gripping for support. the assassin also enjoys when you have your legs on his shoulders or wrapped around his head, urging him closer to your already wet pussy. he tries to keep noises to a minimum but occasionally you’ll hear him licking and sucking anyway.

— tomas finds it extremely cute when you squirm and buck, forcing his tongue deeper into your cunt. trust me when i say he’ll lap up everything like a dog once you cum. he doesn’t let any drop go to waste unless it’s there to decorate his lower face. as you pant, he’ll slowly lift his head up, a small grin on his face. he’s got a hazy but happy look in his eye despite the fact that the lower half of his face is coated in a light layer of your cum. “mm.. you look so pretty,” he’ll murmur, admiring you while you admire him. tomas will never get over how gorgeous you always look after an orgasm.

— he’s surprised though to feel your hand against his head, urging him back down to your pussy. silently, you ask him for another round. when you feel his tongue playing with your clit again, you know the answer’s yes.

mileena!

— though she doesn’t enjoy receiving oral sex much, she’s more than willing to treat you to the time of your life. she’s eaten people more than she’s eaten people out, so she only has a small amount of knowledge on how things work. even if she had all the experience in the world of giving head, though.. well.. mileena has never eaten you out before. you’re different. you’re special.

— she’s curious as to what you like. do you prefer things to be slow and sensual or would you rather her be rough? would you like her to spit on your clit, as if she’s disgusted? would you enjoy her softly blowing on the sensitive bundle of nerves laid out beautifully in front of her? these were the things that go through her mind as mileena spreads your legs, taking in everything about your pussy.

— she’s almost experimental at first, kitten licking your cunt as if to tease you. she likes the way your legs shudder against her. when you whine, she grins. you moan and groan every so often too. she decides that she likes hearing you like this, desperate for her touch. she does more to hear your noises, letting her tongue play with your every flap. she may even gently nip a few times— she’s learning a lot from this. she learns that you like it a lot when she teases, though you tend to whine and beg for her to do more. when she does do more, mileena quickly learns that you’re prone to bucking into her like an animal. she doesn’t particularly like that so she just holds you down the best she can.

— if you can learn to control yourself then she’ll let her hands wander. she’s a boobs type of gal, truth be told. she enjoys touching your breasts when she can reach them. if she can’t, that’s okay. your ass will do just fine for now. she’s a little noisy down there, but she’s sure you don’t mind… your hand grips her hair as you let out a final moan, releasing yourself all over her tongue and mouth. mileena pulls back, forcing you to watch as she tastes your cum almost curiously. she licks her lips, staring you in the eye. it’s.. good. she uses her thumb to wipe her lower lip before licking up any excess from your wet folds.

— she lifts her head again, looking at you and soaking in your pleased expression. “again,” she says, telling you more than asking you. despite her bossy tone, she pauses on the way down, waiting for your confirmation. it’s only once you say yes that she eagerly begins to lick at your pussy again.

johnny cage!

— he eats your pussy like it’s his last meal on earth. i’m not joking. there’s a hint of desperation in the way johnny noisily sucks and slurps at your cunt. he’s a little rough but he never does more than you can handle. ask him to calm down and he will. his hands will hold you gently while his tongue goes to work on you, nearly abusing your clit. every piece of your pussy is given ample amounts of attention.

— cage can’t help but love the way you writhe against him and all the noises you make. the way you grip his hair and squeeze your legs against his head as his tongue navigates your insides makes him harder than he already is. he didn’t even know that was possible! he wonders what he’s done to deserve such a heavenly chorus of moans from you, moans that get increasingly louder with every move he makes. ah, johnny adores you. every jerk, every shudder, every whimper, every moan— he adores all of it.

— he’ll convince you to sit on his face at least once. he wants to be nose deep in your sweet, sweet pussy. god knows he deserves it. he’s had such a long day and it would mean so much to him.. please, just this once? he’s strong enough to take it and you both know that. it doesn’t matter your body size, really, he doesn’t care. he’ll hold onto your ass as you sit, grinning all over himself. cage enjoys this position a lot more than most others but if you’re not into it then he’s willing to leave it behind in his daydreams.

— it’s only after he licks up every last drop of your cum that he lifts his head up, a lazy grin on his face accompanied by hungry eyes. his mouth is messy because he doesn’t care enough to clean it. johnny takes a moment to appreciate the hazy look in your eyes, the way you pant like a dog in heat in an attempt to catch your breath. “one more round?” he’ll ask, smirking up at you. it’s amazing how he always manages to fluster you, even from in between your thighs. “i promise i’ll be gentle. i just want to taste you again.”

— with cage it’s more often than not more than one ‘round’. he always likes it when you beg for him to fuck you despite the fact that he’s made you cum several times already with just his mouth alone. he loves the desperation in your voice but even more so he loves that he’s the one to make you feel this way. johnny thinks that if he can’t pleasure you, then he’s not doing his job right. after all, he’s yours just as much as you’re his.