#i want to put this fucking guy in more of my fucking outfits but all the fit pics i ever take are in the same pose so like 🧍‍♂️

[l8ncestroll]

This is MY blog and I’m sick of pretending I don’t have a big fat crush on this man

He’s actually SO yum, SO boyfriend material and so criminally underrated, neither god nor satan can stop me from thirsting over this man!!! So anyway I’ve dumped all my insanity under the cut

- HIS HAIR!!! It’s so fluffy and it has so much volume that I’m JEALOUS

- And it still looks good when he’s all sweaty post race and it’s all messy and he looks all disheveled and skrunkly

- I would sell my left kidney to have him put his head in my lap and let me play with his hair

- I WANT TO PULL IT

- listen if he was hovering over you or had his face between your legs you can’t convince me you wouldn’t want to be pulling on his luscious locks while he ruined you and that is that.

- And you could look into his big chocolatey eyes all the time, like can you imagine standing chest to chest with that man and looking up and seeing those big hypnotic eyes? I think I’d melt

- he would give the best puppy eyes ever if he wanted something from you, eyes all wide and needy, just to switch up and look at you all smug and smirking when you do exactly what he asked of you

- I just KNOW when that man makes out with you it’s FILTHY, please tell me other people have noticed his big pouty lips and how goddamn long his tounge is??? Otherwise I might just sound insane but IVE SEEN PICTURES OKAY

- ANYWAYS, I’m talking holding you close for dear life, him taking your face in his big hands, starting with small gentle pecks all over your face but quickly turning into the most disgusting make out ever, biting each other lips and sucking each others tounges, licking each others faces, him fucking up your neck so bad you’ll be in turtlenecks for the next three weeks and you nibbling on his jaw, all rational thinking out the window and no concept of time.

- piggybacking off that last thought, he just knows that his facial hair makes you feel some kind of way

- “hey babe do you think I should shave?”

- JUST to tease you and have you panic, to watch you try and come up with any serious good reason that he shouldn’t, whilst he really knows you’re only worried about the beard burn on your thighs being a thing of the past.

- A while back I saw someone on here call him beefy and I think that altered my brain chemistry

- because YES

- He IS beefy, he’s tall and broad and muscular, you just know that he’s strong enough to snap your neck if he wanted to but he hasn’t!!! And you’re still alive!!! So obviously he likes you!!!

- He’s so sporty too, out of formula one he’s definitely the sportiest of all the drivers, always skiing, or playing padel, doing all of his little side quests

- The videos that float around of him playing ice hockey????

- So hot I wish Canada was real

- He looks so confident and aggressive and in his element when he’s playing. I feel like creating an ice hockey x figure skater AU may be in order because the potential of that is endless

- I have so many thoughts about him in the big scary hockey outfit, stood next to his girl in her figure skating dress

- Now he KNEW, about the contrast between him and his girlfriend’s looks, size, aesthetic, or whatever you want to call it. But he’d never seen it displayed so clearly, him looking all big and burly and ready to play ice hockey versus his sweet little girl, looking all cute and delicate ready to figure skate? Definitely fucked with his head, also definitely turned him on, which you definitely noticed and definitely poked fun at him for, while secretly being just as turned on if not more.

- He’s definitely the possessive protective type, he insists he doesn’t get jealous but it’s only because he doesn’t let himself be put in that position

- Why should you go up to the bar alone? What if a guy tried to hit on his girl and he got jealous? He wouldn’t be having that, so he walks you up to the bar himself and cages you in, hands either side of you while you order, and while you’re looking in your bag for your purse to pay, he’s already swiped his card.

- Even if he was too tired or drunk to keep getting up with you he’s not letting his girl go on her own, he’d rather spend a small fortune on bottle service than send his girl to the cesspit that is the bar in a club

- I see him as the type to love a bit of cliché flirting too, weather it’s the first time you’ve met or you’ve been married for 10 years? That man is GOING to flirt with you, countless little compliments, always pulling out your chair or opening doors for you.

- DEFINITELY the type of guy to do the hand thing, because yeah he wants you too see how much bigger his hands are, but mainly he does it for selfish reasons, it sets alight something carnal and animalistic inside of him to see your feminine little hand against his, it just does something to him when he gets to watch the surprise on your face at how big his hands are (because let’s be fr that man has BEAR PAWS), him looking at you, watching your thought process

- which would probably be something like: aww this is so cute and cliche, okay let’s do it, woah, his hands are huge, or are mine just small?, no I think it’s definitely him, maybe it’s a mix of both, DAMN his hands are huge, damn, hmnnn, he could fit both of my wrists in one hand, 🤭, his fingers are so big…, they’d feel so good on my…, shit he’s watching me😧

- and even though you never said a word he read every thought you had from your face.

- I don’t know if anyone other than me finds this super sexy but he’s so quick witted, in challenge videos he just seems to think for a few seconds and then have some weird solution, or when people ask and uncomfortable hard to answer question, he just takes a second and then comes out with the perfect response, weather it’s a joke or a distraction or a tactful answer, he’s good at using his words

- He seems to like talking a lot too, don’t get me wrong in press conferences and most media things he’s a brick wall (understandably tbh) but in other situations when he’s comfortable and happy he seems to have a lot too say

- do you guys see what I’m getting at?

- he definitely talks you through it.

- I mean just think of him sat up on his knees between your spread legs, “you look so pretty right now, wish you could see what I’m seeing”, and then leaning over you to slap his tip on your clit, “you gonna take it for me like a good girl darling?”, then running it up and down your slit, spreading you’re wetness all over himself, “you’re fucking soaked already, I’m flattered baby”. Him just repeating “fuck fuck fuck” over and over like a mantra when he finally presses into you, “fuck you take me so well”

- idk i just can’t see him being quiet at all, if he’s not running his mouth then he’s groaning breathily right in your ear, enjoying how he can feel you clench around him every time he makes a particularly desperate noise.

- Also he has a praise kink I don’t make the rules, this could definitely make a cute fic actually, reader not knowing about him having an absolutely desperate need for her praise, and rather than just asking for it (because then in his mind it doesn’t count) , he goes above and beyond all the time in every aspect of life desperately chasing after slivers of praise from you to get his fix, and maybe as a prank or a joke or a TikTok trend one time you call him a good boy and he just goes absolutely feral and then you put the puzzle pieces together

-okay I’ll stfu now but before I go I have pictures that relate to this to share to really prove my point that I’ll leave at the bottom of this, (in order, beard, hands, eyes, sexy asf, why he pulling that face? ,And hair)

- anywho I’m so deeply sorry for bringing my depraved obsession to the internet, BUT if you fuck with it at all or wanna talk to me or add anything my ask box is OPEN and my anons are ON

- also I’m considering starting to write again so if you have any tips or inspiration I’m totally open to that even if it’s criticism or whatever

[beatrixst0nehill]

"So, for everybody wondering where I got to..... surprise! Yes, that video circulating of me waddling out of a buffet in my hometown in a huge dress that still couldn't cover my ass all the way, sweating, panting, puke all over the front of my dress. That was 100% me, congrats to everyone who guessed right! I know you guys really loved my content. I of course loved my community and buying cute outfits to show off for you. My transition was going great and you all were so supportive of me. I was lucky I got to start transitioning so young, so I got the perfect, sexy body of my dreams by 19 and just had to show it off to the world! Then, well....... I got a bit carried away.

I was plugging away, making my content, and people kept telling me how sexy I was, they complimented my ass especially. Lots of guys and a few girls asked me if I'd consider getting bigger on purpose. I didn't really know how to respond. I'd ask them if they really wanted to see me with a fatter ass. They were all crazy about it. That's who in some of my last videos you see me struggle to put stuff on. I looked up weight gain tips and was bombarded in my algorithm with feederism content. Step by step guides on how to go from thin, to massively fat, and a lot of them were guides made by trans girls who looked so enthusiastic to get morbidly obese. I never saw anything like it, these curvy, busty, healthy girls who could barely control their erections as they gleefully detailed how they planned to grow too fat to walk in just a couple years, how they fantasized about becoming a total slob, gushing about how amazing it would feel to get their first heart attack.

My cock was so fucking hard, but I was only three inches. I wanted a bigger cock like the girls in these videos, but I wasn't even thinking about my fashion vlog. I asked a doctor to prescribe me stuff to increase my penis size but not detrans me, like a lot of girls who ask for this stuff. Soon, I had a seven-inch cock but I couldn't tuck it anymore, it became impossible to hide, and I was pushing 200lbs from just a couple months of my new diet. I was too embarrassed to post more content, quietly inundating my feed with weight gain content, almost getting hypnotized by it. I started to mindlessly eat and eat and eat! Sure, I wound up with an almost footlong cock, but now I'm way too fat to enjoy it. I've completely let myself go. I guess I feel like I have to finally be honest about what I've done to myself, so I'll be posting again, and updating my OF.... Hope you don't mind seeing your trans fashionista heart throb sitting naked in her own piss and shit, gorge herself on fast food for hours, cumming like a perverted gooner just from overeating.

I don't really bathe anymore, I hard wipe or clean myself. When I go out I just throw on giant sundresses and don't care if my belly, ass, and cock are hanging out. I'm just too big for clothes..... ironically. When I go out almost no restrooms can fit me, so I literally just go anywhere, pissing myself as I waddle to the nearest buffet or restaurant, or I go at my booth and apologize to the waitress, telling them I'm just too fat to make it to the bathroom anymore. They tell me it's fine, that they'll clean it later, and they serve lots of girls like me that are severely disabled by obesity. Good girls, keep it up, grow as big as you can! I'm not slowing down anytime soon, even though I'm almost 700lbs and I can barely walk. The state is gonna send me caretakers once I'm too fat to walk, hopefully they're cute, maybe they can help jerk off my fat cock, my erections get so painful sometimes it's always a relief when I eat enough to finally orgasm, usually just enough that I wind up puking. But oh well, nothing worth fighting for will be struggle-free! Here's to a very obese new year, and hopefully, fingers crossed, my first heart attack! I'm super jealous of the other girls in my community that have already gotten there's. I just need to get bigger faster! I'm way too skinny, don't you think? ❤️"

[heartorbit]

just how can i protect your smile?

[shrinevandal]

my own personal take on what makes a miku

[clegfly]

“Of course you have an Other Brother,” he says, waving off her denial as he opens some nearby cabinets. “Who else would I be if I wasn’t?”

Small WIP sketch of the Other Brother from IDKSomethingClever99’s fic “Mari in the Pink Palace”!!! OMORI and Coraline are my two biggest interests ever so this fic was like winning the lottery for me. Not to mention how good it is… please go read it ragh

[glassedplanets]

the storied tradition of putting a guy in my clothes

[wishchip106]

gawd damn i need me some hard liquor (apple juice) rn

life got me stressing

[salem-witch-slut]

Prostitution (18+)

Sevika x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Of all the girls in the brothel, and she picked you.

WARNINGS: Brothel work (prostitute!reader), dom!Sevika, sub!reader, hair pulling, leather lingerie, grinding, fingering, strap-on use (r!receiving), Daddy Sevika, biting (briefly)

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

A/N: In honor of Arcane Season 2 coming out today, thought I would bring back one of my best kinktober prompts with everybody's favorite muscle mommy. Briefly considered making a part 2 for this but lemme know what you guys think?

dividers made by @cafekitsune

Why did you think this was a good idea?

Well, truth be told, you didn’t think this was a good idea… But it was the only idea you had left. Your family was dead, like everyone was in the Undercity. Your partner got herself killed from a shimmer overdose, and you were facing being homeless. Your entire world was turned upside down and it was all fucked to no end. But now you had to pick up the pieces.

You were hired at the brothel. What the actual fuck were you thinking? Well, you knew Babette, and she was willing to give you a chance. It was decent money, and you were given free food during every shift. How could you turn it down?

It was your first week and you have already been through hell. The women who came to the brothel tended to be high on shimmer and sloppy at best, but the men; they were aggressive, vicious, and you found yourself leaving with aches and pains every single night.

And yet, when you entered the room that you were assigned to today, you were surprised to say the least. The outfit on the bench was… strange. Normally, the clientele wanted something revealing, lace, and soft bright colors. No, you were given something black, made of leather, and matching black heels to complete the look.

“Don’t question it,” You told yourself. “Just put it on.”

You slowly stripped off all your clothes and pulled on the leather bustier and black lace panties. Your fingers twitched slightly as you strapped the heels to your feet and ran your fingers through your hair… Your lipstick was a deep maroon color, and you had dark, dramatic eyeliner. Seems like you thought it all out already?

Who was your client today? Why were you so nervous? What if it was a man that was three times your size? What if it was more than one man? What if you got hurt today?

“Did you hear about who she picked today?” A shiver raced down your spine as you approached the curtains in front of your door, biting down on your painted lip. Who were they talking about?

“Oh, I heard. Cute little new girl is about to get ruined today, huh?” You… they were talking about you! But who else? Who was she?

You’ll get your answer soon enough.

It felt like forever until you heard heavy footfalls in the hallways. Whispers carried in the corridors, along with the aggressive clicks of heels from your fellow ‘coworkers’ running away from whoever was making their presence known inside of the building. Your fingers trembled as you dared a peek out from behind your curtain.

Not even a second later, the curtain was being pulled back and in walked your client… Tall, muscular, handsome, and absolutely terrifying.

The brothel’s most regular visitor. Silco’s right hand… the person that everyone in the underground fears.

Sevika.

You nearly fell down the stairs, heels slipping on the concrete flooring as you tried to back away and give her the space she deserved. But it seemed she had other ideas.

Before your body could come in contact with the ground, the woman reached out and grabbed both of your hips with her hands. Her right hand was warm and calloused, a pulse beneath her flesh, but her left hand? Cold, sharp, and thrumming with the energy of her mechanical arm hidden beneath that cloak she always wears.

“Easy, doll,” Her voice is deep, husky almost as she steps forward and lowers you down to the stable surface behind you. Shivers raced down your back, and you couldn’t stop yourself from trembling in her grasp. For a moment, neither of you said anything. But then her eyes raked all over your body and she breathed, hard. “Damn, look at you… Pretty little thing all dressed up just for me?”

Were you supposed to speak? You have heard so many stories about Sevika… how aggressive and cruel she is out there on the streets, and how she kills without mercy or a care in the world. You were scared of her, to say the least… And Sevika could see it in your eyes. She knew what her reputation was and was more than happy to push the agenda.

“Scared of me?”

You inhaled sharply, your hands slowly sliding from your sides to hold onto her forearms. The whirring of the mechanics of her arm made your thighs tremble. “N-No, miss…”

“Funny,” Sevika reached down and gently ran her rough fingertips along the edge of your jaw before she slid her hand in your hair. “Only dumb girls feel no fear… Now, you aren’t dumb, are you sweet thing?”

 You breathed slowly for a second, fearing you said something wrong to her. She looked amused, but looks could be deceiving… The gap between her two front teeth was cute. You focused on the crease of her jawline, the scars on her face, and the way her brows were pulled down.

She was so fucking hot that you forgot why you were afraid… and then, she grabbed at your hair, making you yelp and submit. Your hands had slid far too high up, and she was punishing you… Fuck, she was punishing you! “Better watch it. I’m paying to touch you, not the other way around.”

“But—” You hiccupped, looking into her eyes for the briefest second. She waited for your words to continue. “S-sorry…”

“Oh, she has manners?” Sevika showed off the smile that made your stomach flutter for a brief moment and reached down with both hands, gripping your thighs and lifting you off the floor like you weighed almost nothing to her. Out of instinct, your hands reached up and grabbed onto her shoulders for stability. “We’re going to have fun.”

Before you could utter another sound, you felt something press against you… something solid, and stiff. Something that felt like it was alive, right against the wet spot on your panties. A low moan left your throat, and you just immediately knew what it was.

“Take it off, doll,” Sevika breathed against your neck. “You know you want to.”

Fingers trembled as you reached for the cloak on her shoulders and slowly pulled it over her head. The brown fabric dropped to the floor behind her, and you looked down, confirming your suspicion. Sevika was strapped under her pants… the bulge was now way more obvious without the cloak.

“Feel that?” Sevika pressed her flesh hand to your rear and stepped forward, spinning you around and sitting herself down on the couch behind you. The second you were in her lap, she was pushing you down onto her hips and grinding the bulge against your cunt like it was her damn birthright to do so.

Your pulse quickened with every passing second, and you dropped your face down against her chest, breathing in the scent of tobacco and her natural scent… Strong, earthy, like a roaring wood fire. You didn’t know what came over you, but before you could scold yourself for knowing better, your tongue came in contact with her bear neck and your lips trailed all over her exposed skin.

Sevika tensed up and her fingers went from holding your hips to sliding under the fabric of your panties, grabbing at your flesh and making you instinctively bite down on her shoulder. Nowhere near enough to hurt, but enough for her to feel it. Sevika looked like she was about to start climbing the walls as she felt your hips roll forward on top of her.

With a simple flick of her metallic fingers, the underwear given to you was ripped off your body and you barely had time to recover before Sevika was lifting you off her lap and reaching to pull the zipper of her pants down. A sigh left your throat, and you could only push your face into her neck; Sevika didn’t like that.

“Nuh-uh,” She grabbed your chin with her flesh hand, pulling you back to look down into her eyes. Her grey irises were staring directly passed your fears and into your soul. It was like she was lighting you on fire from the inside out. “You look at me. Prettiest fucking girl is going to look at me when I fuck her.”

Her words made you blush from the tips of your ears down to your neck and you almost forgot that this was your job… It was easy to think that Sevika had just picked you out of everyone in the underground to have a night with. Not… that she was paying for it.

“Don’t worry,” Sevika smirked, that crease in her brow becoming more prominent as you felt her hand leave your face and slide down between your legs. When you felt her calloused fingers against your soft wet folds, you forgot how to breathe. “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

The sound you made was beyond pornographic. Two of her fingers slipped inside of your wetness without any kind of resistance. Your entire body went rigid, and your eyes fluttered for a brief second before you forced yourself to look at her. Sevika smirked and basked in your expressions, slowly pushing you up and down on her digits.

What did you even say? What were you supposed to do? Sevika isn’t like your other clients… She’s so intense, even when she’s barely touching you. It feels like you are drowning, even if it’s just her presence surrounding you. Your inner walls squeeze at her fingers as she curls them at just the right angle. Sevika smirked.

“Oh, you like that?” Sevika kept you steady on her lap with her metal hand while the other one worked in and out of your pussy. “So wet for me, already? Barely touched you, doll.”

“Fuuck...” You rolled your entire body forward, biting your lip and leaning down just enough to press soft kisses against her face. “P-Please—”

“Please, what?” Sevika said sternly. “Use your words, doll.”

“I… I n-need… ohfuck...”

“Come on,” She smirked, curling her fingers at just the right angle that you almost feel your legs give out. “Just say it—”

“Fuck me,” You whine, finally giving in. “Please, please, please… fuck me, daddy.”

There was a hunger in her eyes that wasn’t there before. It was like a switch had flipped inside of her because in mere seconds, you went from sitting on her lap to her pushing you down into the floor that was littered with pillows, blankets, anything you could desire to make this as comfortable as possible.

Sevika all but ripped her pants to try and free what had been teasing you initially. You only had a few seconds to really look at the strap around her hips before she was lining the tip of the bright purple silicone against your core.

“Pretty little thing,” Sevika growled, almost ferally as she slammed down overtop of you. Suddenly, the leather around your chest felt entirely too tight, like you couldn’t breathe. You began frantically reaching for the ties to undo the restraint on your chest, and Sevika noticed because you gasped at her ripping the ropes off the bustier and pushing the fabric apart to really look at you.

“Now, because you were a good girl…” Sevika gently prodded your opening, making you whimper and reach for her biceps. “You get a warning before you get fucked.”

“Daddy, please—”

That was her trigger. You could only grab at her muscles before she was plunging all of her strap inside of your cunt like it belonged to her. You tried to scream, but nothing came out other than a strangled squeak as your head went back on the pillows and tears filled your eyes.

You aren’t a stranger to being stretched out like this. It wasn’t like it was your first day at the brothel… but it was your first day with Sevika. She only gave you a few seconds to adjust to that cock before she was reaching down with her flesh fingers and gently rubbing at your clit.

Your soft squeaks faded into intense moans, much to the woman’s delight. She chuckled, watching you squirm and look at her like she was an alien of some sort.

“Not what you expected, doll?” Sevika teased, rolling her hips forward and making you moan like the whore you were. “Didn’t think I’d care about making you feel good?”

Very stupidly, you nodded.

“Let me fix that,” She leaned down, and you curled your fingers into the leather of her jacket before bracing yourself for the most intense workday of your entire fucking life.

“Be good for daddy and I’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll beg me not to leave.”

And that is exactly what Sevika did.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[mywritersmind]

THIGH HIGHS - LN4

summary : In which Lando likes thigh high socks and his best friends sister far too much.

listen up : my first time writing full smut… oral, swearing, p in v, teasing, age gap!! fewtrell!youngersister!!

words : 1610

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Lando knew to stay in Max’s room. He was told explicitly to stay put. But Lando has never been good at following directions.

The loud bang in the kitchen was what broke him. He walked down the hall, praying it was Max’s cat or maybe P came home early!

It was not.

Lando mentally swore at the sight. She stood on her toes, trying to reach a mug that was too high. One hand was braced on the counter as her foot popped up. Lando looked at the counter, ceramic pieces shattered on it which explained the loud noise.

He should turn away. He would have, if not for her little squeal as she finally got her fingers on a mug and hopped off the counter, looking directly at him.

It wasn’t her slow blink or the sight of her in a thin oversized shirt… though both those things had Lando close to losing it, It was her socks.

Thigh high, too tight, stark white… socks.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were here.” She smiles softly, turning around and bopping back to the kitchen island to finish her drink making.

She’s lying. Him Max Fewtrell were her teachers growing up, Lando sees right through her.

He clears his throat, “Uh yeah… I could say the same for you.”

She shoots him a small smile before looking back at her mug, the kitchen now filled with the familiar smell of hot chocolate. “Want a cup?” She asks, dipping the spoon in her mouth and slowly pulling it out.

He mindlessly sits across from her as she moves around the kitchen to make more, her hair bouncing behind her.

His eyes were glued to her as she slid around in those bloody socks. They were the same socks she wore all throughout highschool with her prissy little skirt and uniform top.

The same socks that she would flaunt as she draped her legs over the couch while Lando and Max were playing video games.

Lando knew she was in college now but that didn’t make the sight, or his thoughts, any better.

The completion of her outfit, a thin shirt that dipped right above the socks and made it clear that she wasn’t wearing a bra, did not help.

She slides a mug to him, smiling in that sweet and innocent way she always has. “Tell me if you like it. It’s a new recipe.” She sips her hot chocolate at the same time as Lando, her lipgloss being left as a kiss on the ceramic.

Lando nods, “It’s really fucking good.”

This makes her grin grow, biting her bottom lip to restrain herself, “Good. So, what are you doing here?”

Lando quirks a brow, “Max and I are filming later.”

She nods slowly, “Right…”

“Well what are you doing here?” He raises a brow, bringing the mug to his lips again.

“I’m on spring break.”

“And you’re spending it with your brother?”

“I just got back from cabo…” She says as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her tan did hint at it though. “I go back tomorrow though.”

“Ah, uni… how’s that going for ya?” He leans back in his chair as she backs up against the countertop.

“Great. Minus the guys.” She sighs purposefully, looking around the room. “How’s the whole F1 thing?”

He smiles at her tone, nodding, “Good.”

“You know! It’s funny… Max gets to go all the time, yet I'm never invited.” She pouts, crossing her legs.

“You never ask.” He makes a point to look at her in the eyes when saying it.

“I’m asking now.” Something about her voice screams DONT CROSS! DANGER! GO BACK! But Lando just sits up straighter.

“Fine then, come to australia.”

She finishes her drink, hopping up on the counter so her head is hitting the cabinets now. Lando sucks in a breath as she looks at him, “Only if I get to stay in your room.”

Christ he might just fall off this bloody chair.

“Stop that.” Lando shakes his head, leaning back in his chair and gripping his mug a little too tight.

“Stop what?” She smirks, completely mischievous and faking innocence.

“Being a little shit.”

She scoffs, jokingly. Putting a hand on her chest and frowning, “You wound me, Lan.”

“You not getting enough attention at school? Guys don’t fall at your feet everywhere you go?” It’s bad but the most he can do to stop his words is a mental slap on his face.

“They do… You’re just more fun to play with.”

“I’m too old for you.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t think it’s hot. Five years isn’t even that bad- Would it make you feel better if I said I’ve gotten with a fourt-”

“No!” He stops her, standing up and washing out his cup to busy himself, “It’s not just the age thing.”

“So you’d get with me if I wasn’t your best friend's sister?” He turns to look at her, her legs squeezed together and practically begging to be touched.

“I didn’t say that.”

Her shirt is riding up her thighs more and it makes Lando’s stomach drop. He licks his lips as she looks at him, “Lan.” she practically whines, “I need someone experienced.”

He shakes his head, his eyes still on her body as she rubs her thighs together, “I haven’t orgasmed in forever… at least, not from a guy.” He lets out a little sigh, walking closer.

“You can touch me.” She looks up at him, her eyes full of lust as the tightness in his pants grows.

“I shouldn’t.” He braces himself on either side of her.

“Then I'll touch myself.” It’s almost a whisper, but definitely a promise. She slips her hand under her shirt, making it pool around her thighs and teasing her cotton underwear.

Lando thinks he might be dreaming as she slips her hand into her panties, her breathing picking up as she leans her head back.

“Lan…” she whimpers, “Feels so good…” she locks eyes with him, his mouth slightly open as he watches her.

He watches her fingers move under the fabric, dipping farther as her moans grow louder. His hands slide from the marble to her thighs, just the outsides in an attempt to control himself.

He’s rock solid now, his hands gripping her legs and feeling the smooth fabric under his fingers. Her nipples are hard and poking through her shirt. Her eyes meet his again as he breathes harder, her hand slowly pulls away, dripping.

She’s holding it in front of his face, inching closer just for him to take her fingers in his mouth. She’s smirking wickedly as he sucks. “Good boy.” she whispers.

Her fingers leave his mouth with a ‘pop’ and just as he goes in to kiss her, she shakes her head and slips her hand into his hair, pushing down.

He watches her eyes as he dips down, pulling down her panties and replacing them with his tongue. She moans, loudly, at the contact.

Every doubt either of them had is gone now, replaced with pleasure and pure need.

She grips his hair as his hands hold her in place, his mouth sucking and linking as one of his hands moves up her shirt, grabbing her tit and making her moan louder.

Lando was in heaven, fucking her with his tongue and listening to her moan under his touch. That is, until she pulled him back up.

“Fewtrell.” He growled, neither of them done.

She pulled him closer, kissing him finally. She bites his lip a bit as he grinds into her, his hard length begging for attention. “Someone’s needy.” She teases as he kisses her harder, his tongue exploring her mouth while he fingers the top of her socks.

“Please.” He’s pretty sure it’s the first time he’s begged a girl for something.

“Please what?” Her breath is hot against his, “Use your words.”

“Let me fuck you.”

This satisfies her, a cheeky smile meeting him as his hands slowly pull off her shirt.

Her nipples are hard when he takes one into his mouth, her head falling back as he runs his tongue over it.

She reaches down and skillfully unzips his pants, moving her hand over his hard clothed dick. He’s throbbing, so sensitive to the touch he’s been waiting for.

“This for me?” She whispers as his head falls on her shoulder, her hand moving back and forth. He nods, unable to speak as she palms him.

He pulls off his pants and boxers, not even caring to get them off his legs before he lines up to her. “I don’t want you to regret this.” He whispers, out of breath and fully blinded by lust, but not stupid.

She looks straight into his eyes, “Fuck me, Lando.”

So he does, pushing into her and almost losing it straight away. He goes slow at first, watching her mouth shake and her head fall back. She grabs onto his shoulder, moaning loudly in the kitchen that’s neither of theirs.

“You’re so fucking hot.” She moans as he thrusts into her, biting her shoulder and kissing her neck, “Yes!”

He whimpers as she tightens around him, wanting to give her the one thing idiot college guys can’t.

She cums in a rush of heated breaths and her nails dragging over Lando’s skin. He cums seconds later on those snow white thigh highs.

He falls against her in a slump, her heart beating fast against him. She’s smiling still, running her hands through Lando’s curls and saying, “I’m definitely coming to australia.”

[koobiie]

bestowing my highest honor as an artist to ffxv (drawing the characters in fun outfits)

thoughts under the cut

RREAAAGHHHH SO EXCITED TO BE DONE WITH THIS!!!!! it took me forevarrrr but i soldiered through as an act of love. now excuse me. yap time

OKAY SO the concept behind this was originally specific fashion subcultures for everyone!l ike noct emo ignis dark academia etc. but then decided i didnt want to pigeonhole it all and just freestyled outfits i thought would look nice on everyone

noct - i do think noct would still be emo-ish but also opt for comfy baggy stuff a lot. something you could just fall asleep in on the spot. note the details of bass pro shop shirt (of course) XV necklace, little moon + stars accents, carbuncle + fish keychains. i also wanted his metal band logo shirt to spell LUCIS but i forgor some letters but its not very readable anyways

ignis - ignit ooohghh ignos ignaurs. sorry i made him serve so much cunt it will happen again. i drew him first cause that kind of inspired this whole thing i love him so bad if i didnt draw it id explode. not much detail to note except his collar pins are like his double blade thingies

luna - lunaaa the concept was “clean girl aesthetic” idk if that happened but im actually really happy with how it came out! might be my favorite of the bunch just because she looks so pretty and happy. your honor she should have been able to just be a normal girl and just. chill

prompto - prompotoooo i had trouble picking his vibe!!! my first thought was techwear?? because weeheeeehee he loves tech and well... you know... but then i realized i didnt really like the look of anything i saw + it was so bulky and dark and serious for him! ending up going with some more youthful and baggy. i was considering something more loud and colorful but ended up not going with it. i feel like in canon he'd be too nervous to have such a flashy fit and would want to just look "cool" to fit in with the boys lol. itty bitty details here - chocobo keychain, pompompurin and bi miku buttons, and his lanyard is kings knight themed! i also thought it was funny to write LUCIS on his shirt like you know those shirts that just say BROOKLYN or TOKYO or SAN FRANCISCO and thats it. thats what its like

gladio - okay i know this is going to sound like a lie but im not horny for gladio like at all, hes my least favorite, i think he's just alright. but also i KNOW in my heart of hearts that he would LOVE being a leather daddy and so i had to make it happen. main detail to note here is that his tank top has the motifs of a cup noodle! i didnt know what else to add cause you know.. hes the cup noodle guy.. but also i didnt want it to be so in your face about it with a big as logo so kept it subtle!

(side note the leather daddy gave me an idea for a post where its like noct and prom go to a gay bar all nervous but then they run into gladio and its like "p: GLADIO YOURE GAY?" "n: nevermind that PLEASE dont tell ignis we snuck out" and then ignis walks up and theyre all like WHAT THE FUCK!!!! caption would be "the gang finds out theyre all bisexual." probably wont draw it but i think its very funny lol)

iris - iris my sweetheart.... definitely leaned into the scene vibes here and also that one image of the blonde emo anime girl. details here - of course the moogle big ass backpack and keychain (can you tell i love keychains), but also her buttons are an iris (the flower) and also a crown with hearts (haha symbolism)

anyways oh god i didnt mean to write an essay down here. usually i keep this in the tags but this time i just had Too Much To Say. can you tell i put a lot of thought and love into this . anwyays. *walks off into the sunset and fuckig dies*

[suiana]

yandere! golden boy who is your loving boyfriend and... surprisingly loves listening to you talk about your interests! yes darling, talk about your games and novels and silly plushies! he loves seeing how interested you can get about things you're passionate about and it just makes him feel so warm on the inside.

you might even go as far to say he ENCOURAGES your interests. buying you plushies, taking you to exhibitions/places you want... you don't even have to ask, just one look with your eyes and he's taking out his card. yeah, it doesn't matter if you have an unhealthy attachment to that fat cat pusheen or whatever. you seem to really like it so he's buying that 400 dollar plushie for you.

on the same note... he can't help but get jealous when you're gushing over attractive fictional characters. SPECIFICALLY that ONE dude that you seem to have EVERYWHERE. on the wall, on your phone cover, lock screen, profile picture, fuck, even on your bed as a plushie! and all he gets is a meager nickname on his contact?!

"sweetie, must you... really have all these... THINGs of HIM?"

"he's my first husband, you're my second. of course i have merch of him. plus I'm not gonna just throw all these away, i spent big money on these ya know 💀"

he knows it's petty! he knows that it's just a fictional character and that he shouldn't be jealous but dude! you don't even have him in your wallet! it's that freaking guy!

so he does what evey sane boyfriend does and replaces some (not all just some!) of your merchandise with pictures of him and you. how adorable, right?

no.

"bro where is the portrait of my MAN🤬🤬🤬"

"i replaced it with a nice picture of us together darling☺️ look at how cute-"

oh. and you...you just put another photo of that guy again... oh... and you're ranting on reddit/instagram about how he's being mean... you also removed him from your close friends list... oh you... you also decided to kick him off the bed and onto the sofa... oh...

well no biggie! he has lots of patience and he will sneak in his presence into your stuff. he's determined.

"best friend I'm going to need you to cosplay as my favorite character please ☺️"

damn!

why didn't he think of that sooner? if you can't win the normal way, you should do it another way, right? he can just get you to see how much better he is and you'll eventually replace that fictional man for HIM!

...

yeah, that didn't work out as planned. now you're even more in love with that character and you're asking him to cosplay every other day. erm... at least.. your wallpaper is a picture of him cosplaying the character??? he'll take what he can get.

"lol best friend, did you see that video i sent you. it's so stupid."

"for the last time, sweetie. we're dating, call me boyfriend. and which one? I can't watch every single one of the 99+ reels you send me."

"a real best friend would watch them all..."

being with you has singlehandedly changed this man. for the worse or for the better, he doesn't know. but what he does know is that you DON'T know how to dress.

"sweetie, no. you can't just go out in a shirt and shorts! you look like adam sandler!"

"clothes are clothes 🤬"

at least he has a fun time dressing you up. you're like, his cute little rat! his very own personal dress up rat! oh how he wants to just keep you in his pocket and pick out pretty clothes for you, making you look like the cutest thing ever! sure you might take them off and just wear what you want but... at least he's got the photos and the sight of you in a pretty outfit ingrained into the folds of his brain already ☺️ and he'll take every chance he can get to put you into another pretty outfit again. that i assure you.

he... has ALSO found out that you are living on instant noodles, sandwiches, and the occasional takeout. you don't even open the curtains! how can you see in such a dark home? and why are you sleeping until midday?! dear oh dear. you really are a rat, huh?

"darling get up! it's 12 in the afternoon already!"

"i slept at 3 just let me sleep more..."

that simply won't do. he will not be allowing you to lead such a horrid lifestyle! not if he can help it! especially because... well, he's also your boss. from part 1, remember! yeah, you guys didn't break up at the end haha! you were just joking, obviously! not like you'll ever be able to break up. it's in the contract, silly.

"come on, get up. you need to have a healthy lifestyle. I've already gotten my personal chef to cook up a healthy meal for you."

"who's gonna stop me from living like this? you? 😂😂😂"

"yes, me. in our contract, remember? i will be responsible for your health from now till we die."

don't worry. he'll be by your side every step of the way. and hey, who knows? maybe you can even teach him a thing or two about gaming or something else you like! he's open to learning about the things you like.

and he won't even have to worry about you finding another REAL person to like because... well, let's just say you don't even like going out for dinner. we'll keep it at that ☺️

[elliee3e]

light size kink & age play w logan because i’m feeling absolutely depraved today</3

like, jesus FUCK this gif. oh my lord, i need him to throw me onto his bed and ravage me right now please !!!

content warnings ;

age play, size kink/difference, reader’s described as very small, innocence kink, light sub/dom themes, mentions of piv, creampies, tummy/dick bulge (i couldn’t help myself)

author’s note ;

also in the process of making an old man logan drabble !! hopefully i’ll try to post it later tonight, but if not it’ll definitely be out before monday — bare with me y’all…

oh, logan is an absolute sucker for size and age differences.

logan, who by now was used to sleeping with people of course younger than him — he knew how big he was compared to them, and knew he was pretty big just in general and everywhere.

but you, oh baby. you could barely take his dick without having a bulge at least somewhere in your little body, right from where the thick head of it sat, stretching whichever hole he was fucking, making it his.

something about the way you were also just so needy for his attention. you needed him for everything, even for things as simple as tying your shoes or fixing your outfit. logan would never forget the moment you came out of the shared bathroom in your guys’ room, wearing a small little baby pink dress that barely reached the smooth, soft skin of your little mid-thighs, as you held up a pair of white stockings for him to put on for you.

he knew you enjoyed it far too much. enjoyed the way he would sigh, patting his lap invitingly for you to come over.

“pretty dress for a pretty princess, hm?” he would hum gruffly, but the tone of appreciation and approval still stuck out as he started stretching the stockings out a little with his big hands. big rough hands you wanted all over your body, squeezing and kneading at your supple flesh. your heart would flutter at the words, making you nod and bite your lip, a sentence you tried to keep inside ending up out anyway. “bought it for you..” you would mumble softly, voice slightly ashamed, feeling as his hands started to stretch the stocking over your pretty legs.

and oh, he loved your legs so much. he loved the feel of that smooth, soft skin underneath his roughed up hands when he would run them over your skin, or even when he would press little kisses to your ankle when he would do up your heels, scruff rubbing against your sensitive flesh. it felt so wrong but so right. so taboo to have such a bigger, older man like logan — a man who had been around for centuries longer than you had, who knew exactly what to do to please a woman, you being no different.

and he loved your body head to toe. in his eyes, you were the most gorgeous girl ever. his gorgeous girl, and he would do anything to make sure you knew that.

“yeah? bought it for me, that right, baby?” he asked, a low chuckle coming from his throat at your words, a sound that made your stomach flutter with warmth — and logan seemed to know, as his free hand ran up and over your little stomach: his big palm splaying across it and covering more than half of you there. where he had filled you up with his cum merely a few hours ago. your stomach, that everytime he pounded into you, felt like he was carving a spot just for his dick — your tight heat struggling to even take all of him at times, but it was always worth it to feel that warm heat pour into your sweet pussy, filling you up to every brim. it was enough to make you weak, but after all — you were always weak for logan.

[babystarbun]

fucking you right— j.jk

pairing— alpha!jungkook x omega!reader

genre— abo, dubcon, smut, stepcest, MDNI!

word count— 6400

warnings— fondling/body inspection, slut shaming, mentions of being drugged(not by jungkook), somnophilia, size difference, big dick jungkook, degradation, unprotected sex, rough sex, squirting, breeding

‘Watch over your sister for me, yeah? I really didn’t want you brats to come along on my honeymoon but her mom insisted.’

‘Step-sister.’

Jungkook curses under his breath, lathering his chest with sun protection from the pool chair he’s been glued to while silently watching you prance around flirting with every damn Alpha in sight.

This is fucking ridiculous. 

He tried to argue with his father, exclaiming loudly that he’s no one’s babysitter. He’s too old for this shit, you are too old for this shit. Only to get shut down immediately and reprimanded for being so insolent. 

It’s only been 3 months since your parents mated and decided to take the traditional human route. An absurdly overpriced wedding ceremony and luxury cruise honeymoon, one that he had zero interest in being a part of, and yet here he is. Against his will.

‘Not everyone can be lucky enough to bring their kids along on a once in a lifetime vacation like this.’ Your mom had said with a huge smile, squeezing you against her side while Jungkook’s father grimaced and forced a pleased grin onto his unenthused face. 

Kids? He’s a fucking grown ass man. Not his fault that piled up student loans have screwed him out of the opportunity to move out sooner. He’s not the one that insisted on becoming a doctor. 

‘No son of mine will embarrass my name with some bullshit nonsensical career. Medical school is the only option unless you plan to find your ass on the street in a few weeks.’ 

God, his dad can be such a fucking dickhead.

The last thing Jungkook wanted was to spend a week stuck on a cruise ship with you of all people. Even worse when he found out you’d be sharing a room together. At least he got to claim the bed closest to the window, not that looking out of a cruise ship did much other than make his stomach turn upside down. 

This is seriously miserable. And of course you managed to pack nothing but the skimpiest summer outfits. If your parents weren’t so busy holed up together likely fucking like rabid newlyweds(disgusting), he’s sure that your mother would have some choice words for your attire.

“Should you really be wearing that?” He snickered at you this morning. Still laying in bed when you exited the bathroom with your hair and face all dolled up. Nothing but a string bikini and sheer sarong hung on your hips. “It’s 9 in the morning.”

“We’re on a cruise and it’s mid-August. Just because you like to create a sauna for your balls in those baggy sweats doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t enjoy summer.” You shot him a glare before sliding on a pair of sunglasses. Flicking your hair over your shoulder and exiting your shared room without another glance. “Later loser.”

Really, he should slap you. Right on the ass. It’s not as if you have any problem showing it off. Especially not around the hungry unmated Alphas that have started to swarm around you at the pool currently. His father would probably pat him on the back for putting you in your place, someone has to. Who knows when the last time was that you had a real Alpha in your life that corrected this foul behavior for you. Heaven knows your mother is much too clueless to bother punishing you for acting like such a..

“Slut.” He scoffs quietly, rolling his eyes. Another young, unmated, handsome Alpha approaches you, easily gliding an arm around your waist with a huge grin on his face that you reciprocate. This has to be the seventh guy that’s approached you in only the last 2 hours now. It can’t seriously be this easy..

It’s annoying more than anything to listen to you squeak out little playful screams, soft breathy giggles, utilizing your loose hands to grab onto the many different bulging biceps attempting to latch around you. Jungkook can’t help but to feel more and more enraged the longer he sits here watching. God, you haven’t even noticed him. 

He can’t stand to watch this bullshit for much longer. His dad had bribed him with limitless spa visits and bar access anyway for agreeing to come.

He sighs and hesitantly gets up, sauntering his way over to you. Taking a hold of your elbow from behind, he pulls you against his chest. “Hey you.” He says flatly, tone low and serious.

“Huh? Ew, get off of me!”

Jungkook’s ready to tell you off, only to be stopped by 2 large Alphas that shove him back. “Hey man! You heard her!”

“Stop stop!” You intervene before they can pummel him into smithereens. “He’s my step-brother.”

A silent ominous dread passes between the two of you, catching each other's gaze for only a few fleeting seconds before looking away. “Whatever.” He mutters, carelessly waving you off. “Hope they do something unforgivable to you.”

He’ll regret whispering that if any of these brutes touch you without your consent. They shouldn’t. They don’t even know or care about you. Not that he does either.. but he knows you well enough to know that these aren’t the Alphas you should be wasting your time with.

The bar calls to him, charging his way towards the one far away from the pool area. His march slows down, coming to a halt mid-hallway to shove his head inside of a dark room full of neon lights and rapid clicking sounds.

“Gaming room?!” Leave it to his father to fail to mention this ship has a huge fucking arcade. He’s always hated Jungkook’s lifelong gaming addiction. Knowing his son, he’d predict for him to be holed up in here the entire trip instead of enjoying his vacation.

Hours and hours fly by as he competes with the other losers holed up in the ships arcade. Young men with no interest in burning off their first layer of skin out on deck. He plays well into the evening until his hand starts to cramp up and he envisions a clear future of himself 50 years down the line with a permanently claw shaped grip.

“I should head out.” He announces. Bowing before parting ways with the new group of shipmates he befriended while playing, mentioning to catch up with them tomorrow. He walks out toward the room he’s sharing while rubbing at his stomach. Definitely missed dinner while lost in an intense brawl in Street Fighter, room service would have to do.

He’s starving actually, the more he thinks about it. You had a lot of snacks when you unpacked, maybe he could sneak something for himself. By now you’re probably locked up in some Alphas room doing what he refuses to let his mind imagine.

The last thing he’d expect to see when unlocking the door is you laid out in bed, flat on your stomach and fast asleep. Still in your tiny bathing suit, curled up like a kitten breathing softly. It takes him aback for a few seconds, gripping onto the door frame as he takes in your manicured toenails, smooth waxed limbs, and the pert round of your ass jutted out so nicely. Locking the door behind him, he recalls his father’s words to watch out for you, make sure you stay out of trouble.

Something about how a pretty little Omega like you is susceptible to dangerous Alphas wanting nothing more than to bite into your supple flesh. To mark you as theirs.

Jungkook should check, make sure his dads worries have not come true. That’s the only reason he gingerly lifts your ankle up and smooths his palm up your calf. Slowly tracing up the muscle in search of any markings that could indicate an Alpha attempted to claim you as theirs.

It’s amazing how silky soft your skin feels, not a single bump or even a slight hint of stubble. You really must have gotten waxed before venturing out on this trip, which only makes him wonder if you opted for a full body service. That would only make sense, what with the 10 different stringy bikini sets he watched you pull out of your luggage. 

“Hmm,” pushing your thighs apart, he climbs onto the bed. Knees sinking into the mattress between your spread open legs. 

Inner-thigh would be a prime area for any Alpha to leave a mark. Something not too obvious that reeks of ownership. “Nothing.”

Not a single mark on your smooth skin, so easily rippling under his touch. Sinking and kneading his fingertips into the meaty flesh lining your upper thigh, he can’t stop the sigh that exits his mouth. Leaning down closer to untie your sarong.

You must have come back from the pool all heat exhausted and knocked out. Good thing, because any Alpha would be too tempted around an Omega so innocently vulnerable like this. Not Jungkook though, he’d never do anything to hurt you. That’s why he has taken it upon himself to watch after you, his precious baby step-sister. Because who better than him to make sure a bratty Omega like you knows her place? 

Oh what’s that? Is that..

“Bite marks.” He sneers, pushing your buttcheeks open to get a full look at what looks like indentations left behind on the top of your left ass cheek. Who the fuck have you been allowing to mark up your otherwise flawless complexion?

Right on your ass? You fucking slut. 

He licks at his teeth out of hunger, sitting back on his haunches and bending in even closer for a real magnified look. Cupping your ass and pushing your butt apart, he buries his fingers into your buttcheeks. The tip of his round nose brushes along the backs of your thighs. Squinting at your rim covered only by a small teenie lycra material that flexes with each rough massage from his hands.

They could be teeth marks, maybe a light scratch. Maybe his heated up brain is playing tricks on him. Either way, one thing is for certain, no one should be leaving a mark on you. No one except him.

“Jungkook?” Your groggy confused voice opens his eyes wide and full. Looking up over the roundness of your bottom, he catches your gaze momentarily. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done weeks ago.”

Jungkook gulps, shaking his head rapidly with his back pressed to the door. He hasn’t moved an inch since entering your room. Swallowed up by the scent of you spread between these four walls. He has to work to control his breathing, reaching up to physically cover his eyes and push away the thoughts filling up his head. 

He shouldn’t be imagining such things. Thinking up the different ways he could touch you so inappropriately..

No. He shouldn’t be salivating over his step-sister passed out in bed half nude. Vulnerable for any deplorable Alpha to take advantage of. It’s his job to protect you, to make sure your precious womb remains untouched from any unworthy Alpha scumbag.

“Jungkook?” You ask out sleepily, voice all tired from screaming and laughing with random Alphas. 

“Yeah.” He says through gritted teeth, forcing himself away from the door.

“Smelled you.”

“Oh yeah.” Stiffly sitting down on his bed, he squeezes at the tops of his thighs. Pushing his legs together tightly to quell the warmth building up in his ballsack. “Tired?”

“Mmmph..” mumbling something incoherent, you roll over until you reach the edge of the bed. Pushing yourself off to stand clumsily and furiously blink sleep away from your eyes. “I d-don’t even know why.” You slur, swaying from foot to foot.

Jungkook frowns, observing your lazy hunched forward posture. How you can’t stabilize yourself, how your hands flail in search of something to grab onto. “Hey, what’s going on?” He says, mildly concerned. Standing back up to rush over and grab a hold of you before you collapse back onto the bed. 

Lazy eyes struggle to blink up at him, spending extra time attempting to fully open them and get a look at his face. You almost look..

“Are you drunk? Did you take something??”

“N-no..” you gargle, easing into his hold more comfortably. “Feel dizzy..”

Fuck. He knew it. Those fucking untrustworthy Alphas must have slipped you something. “What did you take?”

“W-water..” clutching your hands onto his biceps, you squeeze down to keep yourself standing. Scuttering on the balls of your feet and toes trying to stay steady.

“Water?!” He practically shouts, moving around to set you down on your bed. He sits you up right, grabbing a hold of your face to get a better look at your eyes. “Fuck, don’t you know better than to accept drinks from strangers?!?”

“Stop yelling at me!” You whine, scrabbling at his abdomen. “I f-feel.. nothing. Can’t feel anything at all.”

“God, just—hold on.” Letting go of his grip on you, he spins around quickly to the bathroom. Searching for a small cloth towel to immerse in cold water while slamming open a cabinet that had complimentary water bottles stowed away inside when you arrived. 

Fuck, this wouldn’t even be happening right now if you’d just listened to him in the first place. If you’d just let him stick around to watch those assholes you were hanging out with. How could you let this happen?!? He’s going to have to keep you under a tight watch for the rest of this stupid cruise.

“Alright, you need to drink this.” He instructs walking back into the room. Halting dead in his tracks when he sees you knocked out once again. 

Only on your back this time, legs slightly spread open. Leaving him no choice but to gawk at how smooth your inner thighs are. How your tiny little bikini clings to your pussy. He stumbles back against the door frame and forces his eyes shut to catch his breath, has to pinch himself to make sure he’s not hallucinating again. 

At least you’re safe with him now, here in this room you’re sharing. Safe with the pounding heat between his legs growing larger by the second. Every ounce of worry he had dissipates quickly in favor of once again taking in your legs hanging off the bed. The way your chest slowly rises and falls back down with each easy breath you inhale and exhale. 

“You’re impossible.” He says to himself, pushing off from the door. Dragging his feet across the floor, he plops down next to you, reaching to move the strands of hair away from your face that cover your cheek. You’re really out of it, eyes open enough to see some of the whites, breathing so softly and calmly. Completely unaware of your step-brother’s internal struggle. So innocently naive to his gaze burning down your body.

He shudders a little bit, bouncing around the cooled down wash cloth in his other hand. He should place it on your head.. should try to wake you back up. Yes, because he knows that’s the right thing to do.

“You need to wake up.” He struggles to say through wads of saliva collecting in his mouth. Laying the towel against your forehead gently, he traces down your cheek to your parted lips. Lightly tapping the middle of your plump bottom lip. “And drink water.” Letting out a sigh, he continues to brush tendrils of hair away from your neck. Smoothing them back past your shoulders and chest.

That’s when he sees it, a jagged little mark on the side of your neck. It’s light, as if a set of teeth tried to dig in and failed. A smidge of blood, barely a hint of it, dried up along the peeled skin. 

Anger rushes through him rapidly, clutching his hand into a tightly balled up fist. He sits up fast and hooks onto your shoulders. Hoisting you off the bed to press his nose in close to the barely-there wound. The scent of Alpha hits him first before your savory sweetness can. Instantly causing his blood to boil. He snarls at the hint of another Alpha trying to claim you against your will.

Trembling hands pull you up the bed, shaking as he moves to stand and looks over you. If those brutes could get this close to your scent gland, who knows where else they could have left a mark. He can’t calm down enough to rationalize whether or not this is a bad idea. Every inch of him screams to lick you clean. Clean off the unwanted and unpermitted scent of trash lingering to your skin.

It’s what your parents would want.. your mother would lose her mind if she knew you’d let any old Alpha touch you improperly. 

This is his duty as your older brother. 

Step-brother.

He sinks back onto your bed, knees digging into the mattress by your side. Licking over his lips as he hunches over your limp body, drained of energy by whatever was slipped into your drink. He has to get closer, get a good look at every inch of your precious skin. 

Starting at your neck, he checks behind your ears. Along your nape, down to your collarbone, lift your arms up to drag his nose along the inside of your forearm down to the crook of your elbow.

Unknown scents of Alpha continue to swarm around him, furiously moving faster to find something he may have missed. It’s nothing like his fantasy this time, he can’t control himself anymore the stronger your delectable sugary sweetness infiltrates his senses. Throwing a leg over your hips, he mounts your lower half and proceeds to reach for the triangles covering your breasts. Groaning as he pulls them down and your fat tits bounce out so freely. “Fuck.” He salivates, licking at his sharp canines.

No marks, nothing to ruin your perfect breasts. Your nipples pointed up taut and hard from the cool air filling up your room. The wrinkled skin of your aureoles a few shades darker, tempting his hungry mouth the longer he examines the skin between your chest. “They could have gotten you here, huh?” Sucking at his teeth, he smooths up your stomach and cups under your natural heavy tits. Pushing them up with a groan. His hips roll down against yours instinctively without a second thought. The marks of your bikini top indentations line up above your rib cage, pushing more saliva to swallow up his tongue. 

“Fuck, see, this is where I would have marked you.” He mutters raspily, hips jerking again. The tent in his pants poking at your mound. “Mom and dad would never be able to notice, not with these big pretty titties. They’d sit just right on any mark, cover them up perfectly.”

He hisses, lapping at the drool leaking from the corners of his lips. Who is he kidding? He’d have to leave bite marks all over you. Needs to make it clear that you belong to him only. Your flesh, your sex, every centimeter of your body is his. It’d be for the best, such a stupid Omega like you, so easily impressed by Alphas far beneath you. Jungkook would make sure you’d act proper, that your eyes would never roam away from him.

As tempted as he is to do just that right now, he has to keep looking. Desperate to ensure that the rest of your flawless skin hasn’t been fucked with, he scours lower. Dragging the tips of his fingers down to your waist, digging into the dips there. “You’re so pretty, it’s no wonder they were all over you out there. Should have let me put them in their place and set the rules down.” Gruffly speaking, he continues to venture lower, reaching the strings of your bikini.

“You didn’t..” raising an eyebrow, he pulls at the bows tied up on your hips. Gingerly lifting the straps up to unveil your mound. Hairless, absolutely hairless, and so God damn smooth. It’s unbelievable that you could be even prettier between your thighs, your most hidden area. “None of them would deserve it, you know that right?” He goes on conversing with himself like a man gone mad, scooting back to barely place his weight on your knees. 

“I would keep my Omega satisfied.” He nods to himself, revealing the rest of your cunt with a deep inhale. “Fuck.”

You’re perfect, absolutely perfect in every way. Twitching his cock to full size against his pelvis, he can’t stop his hips from jumping forward. Dropping the strings of your bathing suit just to sit back for a moment to drag his eyes all over your body. From your supple rounded breasts lifting up on top of the rise from your lungs expanding, to the dip in your waist trailing down to your curved hips encasing the cutest little pussy he’s ever seen. 

It wouldn’t be right for any other Alpha to have you over him. He’s the only one who would treat you right.. keep you safe and give you a good life. You’d never have to work, only worry would be to keep your Alpha pleased. Wouldn’t be hard at all judging by the way his cock can’t stop throbbing, pushing against his bottoms to be let out. 

Looks like those creeps weren’t around your thighs, that’s good.. maybe one of them got too bold while sniffing around your throat. Unless..

Sinking down lower with his stomach pressed to the bed, he nudges your knees apart more. Slipping in closer until his face is right in front of your core. “Did you let any of them touch you here?” He asks almost mindlessly. Tongue heavy and mind blanketed with a thick haze.

The Jungkook you’ve come to know as your step-brother is long gone by now, fully taken over by his Alpha instincts that crave to feel you from the inside. To stuff himself so deep inside of you so that you only taste him for weeks to come. “Let me get a look at you baby.” Sucking at the saliva pooled in his mouth, he parts your thighs open even more with a muffled groan. 

He’s not one to use terms of endearment with you ever, overcome by his desire to leave his own marks behind, he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth. “Just like that.” Huffing through his nose, he grabs onto your knees to press the sides of your thighs against the bed. Spreading you completely open for his curious and hungry gaze. 

Fuck. You’re already wet, so wet. There’s no way you didn’t let one of those pigs touch you here. That simply won’t do, Jungkook can’t let their scent stain your gorgeous Omegan aroma. Can’t let remnants of those Alphas remain inside of you. 

You’d let them fill you full of his seed, wouldn’t you? So desperate to be loved by anyone. You’d let them use you like nothing but a cheap Omega whore.

A twitch up your thigh under his caressing palm snaps him out of his mental despair. Shaking off his anger to squint and get a good look at your parted open labia folds. They glisten so fucking pretty. 

Looks normal, tight little hole pulsing lightly. Continuously streaming a line of slick down to the crevice between your squished buttcheeks. But maybe he needs to do a more thorough check. Really get in there.. who knows. Asshole Alphas are capable of anything.

Shifting himself into a better position for his face to hover near your cunt, he swipes a thumbs gently between your puffy outer folds. “Fucking hell..” he whispers, sucking drool once more before leaning his face in even closer. Getting his nose close enough to suck up a deep greedy inhale of your sweet slick without actually touching you, yet. 

Slick won’t stop trickling out even now, raising one of Jungkook’s eyebrows with interest as he purses his lips and blows at your exposed clit. That earns tremor through your limbs, bouncing under his hand that’s still laid on top of one of your thighs. Each small touch from his thumb moving your folds from side to side to get a look at every inch of you seems to ignite another shiver. Clenching your tight entrance each time trembles work through your body. He curses under his breath with fixated large eyes stuck on your hole, grinding his teeth together to not let out another obscene compliment about how pretty your pussy is.

It’s too much for him, already dizzied by only looking at your wet cunt. He almost caves when your thighs begin to snap around him, forcing his hand to slide off as your stomach folds in and you let out one of the sweetest pitchiest moans he’s ever heard. 

There’s no way.. no way all it took was some barely there touching to make you cum. “Did you really just—“

In full awe, he grabs onto your trembling thighs once again to set them against the bed. Returning his hand back to your pussy to stroke between your sensitive lips. “That really all it takes to get you off baby? Cause I have so much more for you.” 

Jungkook contemplates how much longer he can continue to inspect you before his dick suffocates and dies inside of his pants. Using two of his digits to hold you open, his other hand smooths up your thigh. Flicking his thumb out teasingly at the small hood hiding your clit. 

“How many Alphas have had their way with you baby?” He asks desperately. Fearing that you haven’t had many, if any at all. No slutty Omega could ever cum this easily, only one so touch deprived and needy.. “My baby sister..” he hisses, licking at his teeth. “You’re really too sweet and innocent, aren’t you?”

Stretching your slicked up folds apart again, he slowly blinks and sighs. Tapping your fluttering hole. “I’m way too big. I’ll break you.”

And that’s exactly what you need, to be broken. No other Alpha should have this chance with you. Jungkook’s doing you a favor, really. He’s doing this as a man with your best interest who cares about you and loves you.

“You’ll thank me later.” 

Settling between your thighs, he strips the strings of your swimsuit away. Sliding the material out from beneath you to leave you completely nude for his lust filled eyes. His hands itch again, slowly dragging from your ankles, up your smooth calves, to your knees and thighs. Pinching and kneading the skin lining your inner thighs as he swallows down another breathy groan and reaches for his pants. 

It’s hot as fuck inside of his boxers, sticky with precum and the heat radiating off of his skin from keeping his cock trapped for so long. He deserves an award for taking this much time to appreciate and admire you like the piece of art you are before hanging you up on his walls for no one other than himself to enjoy.

He’d bury his face between your thighs if not for the way his dick smacks against his abdomen, leaving a stream of wet above his navel. He’s shocked he didn’t cum from that alone. Softly grunting as he peels off the rest of his clothing and works simultaneously to kick and toss aside the damp materials coated with his sweat.

“That’s better.” He whispers, pulling the backs of your thighs onto his bare ones. It’s only right with the way your pussy hasn’t stopped dripping down onto the bedding that he assists your needs. Even if you were to wake up now, you wouldn’t stop him. You’d moan and beg for more. For Alpha to somehow get deeper inside of you than he already plans to.

You really are too small now that he slaps his cock down onto your mound. Rubbing his lips together as he drags the tip past your bellybutton and stays still to take in how fucking big he looks against your stomach. With his dick fully sheathed inside of you, he’ll practically be fucking between your lungs.

How is he supposed to even get his cockhead inside of your tiny little pussy? Let alone far enough inside of you to paint your cervix white with his hot cum. 

Reaching under the weight of his heavy length, he spreads your cunt open again with his digits. Struggling to hold you wide open with the amount of slick that’s gathered between your pussy folds. He shifts back letting out a wet gasp as he slides the head of his cock down to your hole. 

It’ll hurt if he fucks you already, you might even wake up. Might thrash around and shout that it’s too much, it’s too damn much for your sweet tight cunt to take. A few more thrusts and he’d have you singing a different tune. It’s just too tempting to not try, to stop himself from pushing in a mere inch of his thick girth. To watch your hole expand past the slit of his tip, fight against the wide stretch that splits you open.

Supple soft thighs twitch around him as he does just that and teases at your entrance. Biting down on his lips with wrinkled eyebrows, he can’t stop the pleasured moan that escapes. He knew you’d love it, the small bit of contact from his cock already jolting your hips up for more.

Popping the little bit of tip out that he got inside, he lets out a winded gasp. Clutching onto the base of his cock before dragging it through your folds, prodding the chubbed up flesh from side to side. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Probably thinking about me. All the ways you want Alpha to ruin your pretty fucking cunt.”

He’s delirious now, muttering nonsense the more he fights against himself to not glide his cock inside of you. A moment of silence washes over him as he takes you in one more time. How God damn pretty you look, all peaceful with shiny drool on your lips, parted open quietly panting but still loud enough for his ears to pick up on. Nipples erect, hard and pointed at him begging to be nibbled on.  

So perfect in every way. His little step-sister, his Omega. 

A quiet breathy moan draws him back, shaking his head rapidly before staring down at you with huge wide eyes. He scoops around your thighs, tugging you over his hips completely. “I know baby, I know.”

Swiping his cock between your folds again, he gets himself nice and wet. Slick dripping down to his balls before placing his cockhead against your hole again. Slowly inching closer, he stuffs the tip against your resisting hole, groaning deep as he pushes in more than just that half inch he teased you with. Getting the fat tip of his size further in until your cunt hole snaps around him and your breath catches. Chest rising faster from the intrusion of a thick size you’ve never taken before.

Wedging himself even deeper between your legs, he finds the perfect angle to start rolling his hips forward. The first thrust of his cock inside of you still struggles against how tight you are even with the amount of slick pouring out of your hole around his size. It takes a few more attempts before he finally feels himself sinking inside of your wet heat. Jaw dropping at the suck around his cock, how your walls throb against his penetrating girth and try to push him out and pull him in at the same time. It’s fucking mind numbing, rolling his eyes back as he gets the rest of his dick slotted inside of you until he’s filled you to the brim.

“Fuck baby.” A loud deep groan bursts out of him, unbothered by how loud he’s being anymore. If you wake up, then fucking wake up. He’d love to see you try to deny how good this feels, how right this is. “So warm, wet..” he rambles, going on to himself about how tight you are. How good you suck him in, clenching even tighter around him on his next thrust inside. He can’t stop groaning now, shaking sweaty strands of hair away from his face as he reaches for your waist for better leverage. Using his rough grip on you to build up speed and pin you to the bed.

“Fuckfuck!” Jungkook gets too rough too fast, stealing broken sobs out of you. Bouncing your body higher up the bed with each violent thrust until the top of your head meets the wall and he has to grab onto your shoulders to keep you in place for his cock to take and take.

“Yeah, that’s it sweetheart.” He says breathily, eyes wrinkling shut when you tighten up around him so much that he’s forced to slow down. Using extra strength to fuck in past how tight you’ve gotten, how much your pussy sucks around him indicating how close you are to release. He can’t hold back the string of curses that scream out between his grinding teeth. Pounding his cock in harder as your hips rise up from the bed like you’re offering yourself to him. Even asleep you’re such a fucking slut.

“T-too good, feel too good for me.” He nearly whimpers. Hips stilling when your thighs quiver on his and a hot stream of clear liquid shoots out around his hidden cock. Powerful enough to make him stop, out of breath and slumped over in awe watching as slick fountains out around him.

“God sweetheart, no way you seriously j-just fucking squirted.” Gasping for air, he has to tear his gaze away from where his dick begins to slide halfway out of you. Gritting his teeth to tone down the dragged out moan that slips out. Slick completely covers his groin, filthy and clumped up in his pubic hair. Wetting his cock enough for his next thrust to cram the entirety of his size inside of you seamlessly. “You’re taking me so good now. My pretty fucking Omega learns so fast.”

Jungkook hooks around your thighs, fully slotted inside of your tight delicious cunt as he props his feet hard against the mattress for better force. Throwing the fronts of your thighs to your chest, he draws out to the tip only to slam his lower half back down and pretzel you into a brutal mating press position. Determined to stuff your pussy to the brim with his seed, he pummels down harder. Building up a fast and steady rhythm from the start despite the sweat that drips down into his eyes. 

“That’s it, take it.” Curling in his upper lip, he sucks at the sweat trickling down. Dropping his body against your limp one. He sinks you deeper into the cruise ship bed that will never be the same again once he’s done with you. “Take it so fucking good, gonna fuck you full of my pups. Make you my breeding bitch.”

Lost to his Alphas desires, he continues to plow into you. Eyes heavy with sweltering body heat and sweat, failing to notice your own fluttering open. You under him, finally awoken by the overstimulating sensitivity shooting from your core.

“J-Jungkook..” you whisper helplessly. Blearily staring up at the beast on top of you having every bit of his way with you.

“Fu-fuck!” He cries out, digging into the backs of your knees. Pushing at them until they meet your shoulders and he can push his cock inside of you balls deep. The deep growling call of Alpha rips out of him, face scrunched up as hot semen ripples its way out of his heavy balls pressed to your ass. Shooting out violent streams of hot cum to coat your cervix with as he promised himself. 

Slowly heaving for breath and blinking, you meet his ravenous gaze. Opening and shutting your mouth to get some saliva on your dried tongue. Pathetically squeezing around his cock for the last bits of cum.

“Y-you came inside of me..” you say confused, sounding drowsy. Straining your neck to watch as he pulls out, releasing a loud wet pop as his softening length slaps against his upper thigh. Gleaming in remnants of your slick mixed with his seed. The feeling of emptiness between your thighs immediately sinks down your chest. Letting out a soft complaining whine, having to calm your Omega from embarrassing you and begging to be stuffed full of cock again.

Jungkook grabs onto your thighs, cupping the backs of them and hauling them up to expose your gaped cunt. The size of his thick cock leaving you stretched open, angling your hips up to watch his cum glide deeper inside of you. “I did.”

“I’m not on the pill.” You say quietly and ashamed. Turning your face to the side to bury into a pillow. 

A groan rumbles up his chest, licking at his bottom lip with a pleased hum. The visual of your pussy swallowing down his future pups and your confession shoots through his cock. “Your mom would be so proud, getting pupped by your step-brother. You could only ever pray to every deity to be so lucky.”

“You can’t..” you sigh. More exhausted now after climaxing over and over again. “They’d disown us.”

Jungkook throws your thighs down onto the bed, stroking his cock back to its fully hardened size. “Let them then.” Grabbing onto your hip, he pushes you onto your stomach. Wrapping one of his hands along the back of your neck before you can break out of the position he’s got you into. “You’re mine now Omega. Won’t stop fucking you until you’re bred full of my pups. Gonna keep you stuck on my knot from now on.”

“Jungkook..” mild fear sounds in your voice, shifting your face to plant your cheek to the bed. Peering back at him from the corner of your eye. 

“Beg for it.” He says dangerously. Slapping his full hard size against your ass. Hissing from the way your skin ripples upon contact. Soft and supple under the weight of his heavy cock.

A silent moment of curiosity and anticipation passes between you. Blinking long and slow at him before pouting. “Alpha..”

“Say it.”

“Alpha, please,” shoving your stomach against the bed, you arch out. Presenting your bottom to him. “Knot me.”

[seungfl0wer]

*𝘽𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝘽𝙤𝙮*

Pairing: Bunny!Hybrid Felix x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Friends -> Lovers, Multiple: Orgasms/rounds and creampies, unprotected sex, Ear Kink? Idk man lol. Oral (Both), Hickeys/bite marks, 69, Squirting, slight face fucking. Sorry for any mistakes or missed warnings.

A/N: Posting this funny enough on my birthday lol. I love love love this I hope you guys do to!

Series Master List

-🐾

Today was your best friend’s birthday. You kept asking him what he wanted and all he would say was just to hang out with you. Your friendship to others would seem more than friends. Felix always had some part of him touching you. Whether it be his arm around your waist or holding your hand. He just had to be close. He would always say it was just a hybrid thing, that he liked your body heat and it made him feel calm. I mean it was true, however Felix always had the massive crush on you. Ever since he got to know you almost 6 years ago now.

You met by chance from a friend of a friend who ended up leaving you alone at the cabin you all rented. You stayed up all night just talking about everything and anything. You’d be dumb to deny you had any feelings for him. Because in reality you may be more in love with him than he was with you. That pretty blonde hair of his, the way it draped over his face so perfectly. The way he smiled at you so warmly every time he saw you. The way those soft floppy ears would perk up as soon as he laid his eyes on you. Not to mention that cute little tail of his that always gave him away.

He had such a habit of laying his head on you wanting you to play with his hair, to touch his soft sensitive ears. He would melt like putty anytime you would too. Almost purring like a cat when you did. To everyone else you were together but neither of you ever confirming or honestly denying it either. It was almost a limbo of “are we together? Are we just friends?” Kinda thing. Neither of you dated or even looked for a partner.

You had everything set up for his birthday, you know he’d whine seeing you put so much effort into it but you wanted to make it special. After getting the apartment ready you slipped into Felix’s favorite outfit. Nothing special something you never understood why he liked so much. It was just a pair of sweats and your favorite crop top. He always told you how much he liked to cuddle up to you like that. How warm and cozy you felt all comfy.

When he arrived letting himself in you could hear him whine just like you knew he would. You decked out the place with his favorite color, made his favorite dinner and stopped at his favorite bakery to pick up the cookies he loved so much. When you saw him he looked like he could cry rushing over to you to give you a big hug. His little cotton tail moving like crazy, his cute nose twitching at all the good smells. “Y/n you didn’t have to do all this” he whined more.

“Ssh let’s go eat birthday boy” you said with a smile giving him a little nose kiss before making your way to the kitchen. You both sat and ate, listing to Felix talk about his day. He looked so handsome, his hair a bit messy, his black t shirt clinging to him a bit showing off his toned body. The way his sweats tugged down a bit to show off his little happy trail he had. Ugh and those eyes, those big eyes that could get him away with murder. They way the shined, smiled even while talking to you. You were hopelessly in love with him.

“Lixie I got all the blankets out on the pull out! We can snuggle and watch whatever you want!” You said with a smile.

“Is that why it’s so cold in here? You always make it freezing so ‘we need all the blankets’” he said with a chuckle.

After putting the dishes away you had to swat his hands away when he wanted to wash them. He always had that habit, trying to help you with everything. “Nuh uh, I appreciate it but today’s your birthday” you said pushing him slightly to go to the living room. He chuckled but did as you told him making his way to the couch as you put the dishes in the washer. You found him already cuddled up under the covers, he smiled at you.

“Come on, you got it so cold I need your warmth. I may die!” He whined. He moved the covers letting you take your spot. Slinking his arms around you, laying his head in the crook of your neck. “Mm you smell so good and so warm” he said with a little purr. You snuffled into him toes touching his legs making him jump “stooop you’re cooold” he whined more.

You put on some movie Felix had told you about. Felix couldn’t help but move a bit the way you had your body pressed against him now ass against his slowly hardening cock. He felt his head spin. You could feel his breath on your neck, the way it hitched a bit as you moved to reposition yourself. You could feel him pressed against you. Maybe it was that you had enough of whatever limbo you guys were in. Maybe it was the atmosphere of it being his birthday, having his cock so nicely pressed against you. You couldn’t help yourself your hand found its way to the hem of his pants making him jolt.

You glossed your hand over his hardening cock making him let out a soft whimper. You felt him move himself pushing his hips against your hand. You turned your body not saying anything before dipping under the covers. His eyes went wide, he felt you lower yourself on him. “Y/n-“ he choked out looking down out you, holding the covers up to see you.

“It’s your birthday lixie let me take care of you?” You said softly. And all he could do was nod. He watched as you slowly pulled his pants down letting his cock finally free. It was almost cute however you weren’t expecting how thick he was. He wasn’t big on length terms not small either but what he lacked in length he made up in sheer girth. He was so thick, his tip already leaking pre cum. You licked over his tip making him shake at the sensation. You were quick to take his hand in one of yours before taking him slowly back your throat.

The way his body trembled under you, the way he squeezed your hand and oh boy the way he moaned. It made your core tremble. You could feel yourself becoming wet at just the sound of him. You slowly bobbed your head on his length your other hand coming up to slightly touch his balls. “You- you’re gonna make me- ah ah” he said bucking his hips up cumming without any warning. Well he tried to but it came on so fast he couldn’t even get the words out. You swallowed around him, drinking in everything he had. To your surprise though he was still harder than ever, so you didn’t stop.

You moved your head faster, fondling his balls more. “Fuck y/n” he moaned out taking his other hand to move your hair. When you looked up at him, when you met those glossed over eyes you moaned. The vibrations sending a shock wave through him. He was already close again- fuck he was so close again. Something about bunny hybrids was they had tremendous stamina. They could cum over and over and still keep going.

He watched as you took him all in, if his brain was fuzzy before it definitely was now. Your eyes locked on him as you took him all back, tongue twirling around him. “God I can smell how wet you are” he said his voice low. His hand came under to cup your face pulling you off of him with a pop. “Let me take care of you too?” He said moving your body so he could lean back to touch you.

“But it’s-“ you started to say only to be cut off by him.

“Yeah and I say I wanna feel how drenched you are” he almost growled.

He pulled down your sweats groaning at the fact you didn’t have anything under it. He moved his hand down your stomach before pressing it against your clit. He quickly moved down a little feeling how wet you were. “Mm you’re soaked- fuck” he said softly before pushing his fingers into your needy hole. You moaned finally getting some stimulation to your throbbing cunt. You quickly moved your head back to take him in licking at his tip before slowly taking him back your throat.

He bucked his hips up, his cock head hitting the back of your throat. He felt you clench around him making a low groan come out from deep back his throat. “Y-you like me using that pretty throat of yours?” He asked. You hummed in response, he wanted to chuckle but fuck it was so hot. He moved his hips more fucking slowly into your throat as his fingers explored your folds. “I can’t take it anymore- need- I need to- ah taste you.” He moved his body laying on his back before you could even say anything in response he was pulling your body down on top of him.

He attached his lips to your dripping cunt lapping at every juice that dared to flow past his lips. His hands gripped at your ass and thighs keeping you on his face. Wanting nothing more to be surrounded by your warmth and essence. He ate you out like it was the most tastiest dessert that had ever graced his lips. His tongue darted at your hole fucking it into you. His thrusts into your mouth were becoming more erratic as he chased another orgasm. You were close behind him, feeling your body melt into him. The stings keeping it at by ready to break at any moment.

When he nipped at your clit sucking on it harshly is all it took. The strings snapping cumming in his tongue with a loud moan. His eyes rolled back pushing his cock back your throat one more time before cumming. His cum shot down your throat as you swallowed it once more. He licked your cunt clean not wanting to waste any of the sweetness he had only dreamt about tasting.

He quickly grabbed you, flipping you to your stomach before getting behind you. “Need you- I need you like I need fucking air- please y/n” he whimpered his cock pressing at your core begging for entrance.

“Felix, ah lixie please- fuck me, I’m all yours always been all yours” the words that came from you were almost desperate. You moved your ass back pushing him into you. The sound he let out was almost pornagraphic and the way his hands flung to your hips gripping them tightly.

“Shit-“ he choked out. He took a moment for his head to wrap around what was actually happening however the way you clenched around him he couldn’t help but move. He started off a bit slow still trying to adjust to what was happening but hearing you moan made him lose it. His thrusts were so deep, his thick cock grazing against all your sensitive spots. He pounded into you fucking you like bunnies do. “Shit- shit- gonna- ah I’m fucking c-cuming!” He screamed hands digging into you surly leaving marks.

The hot cum filling you, making him glide in and out even better. He gripped ahold of you pulling you back. He had you on his lap now his chest pressed against your back. He thrusted up into you even harder the new position making him feel even thicker. “Always wanted this, wanted to be burred so deep into you- to fill you full- ah-“ he babbled out. His hand came down to rub your forgetting clit. His master fingers bringing you close to another orgasm.

He was relentlessly, his thrusts so precise but also so sloppy. He left kisses to your neck sinking those bunny teeth into them. He needed to mark you up, needed to let everyone know you were finally all his. You felt your high ready to crash over you this time it felt stronger you knew that feeling from only one time before. Funny enough you were thinking of him that time too, riding your bunny dildo thinking of your best friend. It was the first time you ever squirted and you knew you were gonna do it again.

His other hand came up to grip at your neck softly pulling your had to the side to give him full access to your neck. He sucked purple marks all over leaving a bit indent of those cute little bunny teeth. With one more harsh thrust one more deep bite you were cumming. Felix’s thrusts stuttered as he watched the stream of fluids come from you. Squirting all over the couch body shaking violently. “Ah- ah that’s it fuck- I can’t believe you just- shit!” He groaned against your neck pushing as far as he could cumming deep into you once more.

He wasn’t done yet though, he moved your body once more laying you down on your back before thrusting into you once more. This time more desperate. “T’much” you stuttered out tears pricking at your eyes. You were so sensitive so fucking sensitive. Each thrust made you feel like you were gonna cum again.

“One more angel, please- you can give me one more right? For my birthday? Just one more- need- need to see you cum on my cock. I wanna-“ he panted out. “I wanna see that beautiful face while you cum all over me- please you can give me one more right?”

“Anything- anything for you lixie- you feel so fucking good” you croaked.

“God you feel so good to- so fucking good- you’re so warm so fucking wet- ah you’re all mine- all mine right angel?” His eyes had a gleam in them you’ve never seen before almost animal like.

“All yours! Always have been lixie!” You almost screamed.

He quickly attached his lips to yours kissing you hungrily as he ponded into you. Your hands flung up to his hair pulling him deeper into the kiss. Your hands grazed his ears making him whimper. “Ah- wait don’t” he started today but it was too late. You started to stoke his ears, they were always so sensitive but this was a different kind of sensitive right now. His body shook, he put all his body weight in you. His head in the crook of your neck letting out soft moans and whimpers. You gently pulled on his ears and he lost it.

His thrusted harshly into you feeling his high about to spill once more into you. He pulled away looking down at you. “Gonna-“ he choked out before cumming deep into you for the third time of the night. It was enough to bring you over the edge again cumming with him. He watched your face contort in pleasure feeling you clench so tightly around him.

He leaned himself back down to you cupping your face to kiss you lovingly. He brushed some hair from your face looking tenderly in your eyes. “The best birthday gift I could ever ask for is to just have you as mine” he said sweetly.

“Lix- I love you” you said breathily wrapping your arms around him to hug him tightly.

“I love you to, I love you so much” he said nuzzling back into your neck.

You felt his hips move slightly feeling him hard again. “Seriously?” You said in a jokingly voice.

“Sorry angel, can’t help it. It’s what bunnies do best” he said with a chuckle.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @jehhskz @babigriin @kkamismom12 @jeonginsleftcheek

[yieldtotemptation]

CRASH ft. Wonyoung

wonyoung x male reader smut

11k words

When she wanted to be (and it was often), Jang Wonyoung could be a real fucking bitch.

If you were to ask her, she’d probably say the same about you.

And yet, that doesn’t stop her from calling you in the middle of the night, slurring about some shit with her manager, telling (not asking) you to come pick her up.

You’re inclined to recommend that she fuck off and find her own way home.

But of course, you don’t. (You never do).

-

“Sorry boys, my ride’s here!”

There’s a collective groan of disappointment that ripples through the crowd that’s formed up behind Wonyoung; each face falling one after another as they realise that ultimately none of them get to be the lucky suitor that takes her home.

Moths around a flame, unable to do anything but watch as she sashays through the neon haze towards your car. Hips sway with a drunken grace, a dangerously short skirt dances around her thighs, high heels strapped to her feet make her legs seem endless.

It’s a view, that’s for sure.

It probably makes the pain of rejection a little more bearable, makes them forget that they’re being abandoned on the sidewalk with all the rest of the has-beens and ‘who the fuck were you again?’

Her ‘co-workers’, technically. Some you recognise, most you don’t. But they’re all basically the same insecure douchebag in a different shade of overpriced streetwear.

You’d probably be doing the world a public service if you were to steer your car onto the pavement and run them all down.

It’s an idea you entertain a little. Doing it would really ruin her night.

That’d almost make it worth the dent it would put in your brand-new car.

Still, you can’t completely blame the gaggle of potential casualties, not really.

It’s Wonyoung.

Girls like her are the reason they invented the word ’idol’ in the first place, because calling her ’pretty’ or ’hot’ is like calling the Mona Lisa ‘a nice portrait’.

It doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Like the starlet she is, Wonyoung waits until she’s at your car to make her grand exit. A turn to her adorers and a final goodbye: a casual flick of her wrist, a sweet, flirty smile and a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it wink that’ll have them deep in their group chats ranting about how they definitely had a moment with the Jang Wonyoung.

You just roll your eyes. You’ve seen that wink a hundred times.

You know exactly how much it’s worth.

After all, it’s your car that she’s climbing into, slamming the door behind her like it’s her name on the registration; leaving behind her new fan club with nothing but their dicks in their hands and their heads swimming with fantasies of what totally could have happened.

You’re no better though, are you? The second she slides into the passenger seat, you’re judging the shortness of her skirt, eyes greedily tracing the length of her thighs, all the way up to a hint of lace that’s destined to be ruined later.

You’re not subtle. And in that outfit, she’s not either.

“What took you so long? I swear to God I’m going to punch the next guy that asks me ‘how much of a baddie I really am’.”

No thank yous, no pleasantries, not even a look in your direction.

To think that you used to be impressed by how quickly she could drop the act: gone is the sugary sweetness that she’d fooled those simps with back at the club; the pretty, airheaded, ‘lucky Vicky’. As fake and useless as the glasses resting on the bridge of her perfectly shaped nose.

Next to you is the real Wonyoung, the one that you’ve become intimately familiar with: intimidatingly smart, unfathomably hot, and all too aware of how dangerous a woman those two traits made her.

“Why is this car black? I thought I told you to get the red?”

You glare at her. The gall on this woman.

“What are you waiting for? Drive.”

Barely a minute in and she’s setting a personal best record for time taken to piss you off; impatiently kicking off her heels, tossing them over her shoulder and into the back seat (of again: your car, not hers).

You can be just as childish: you slam your foot down, pedal to the floor, wheels screeching, and you peel off into the night. The acceleration forces Wonyoung back into her seat, scrambling for her seat belt, yelling, “What the fuck?”

Now she’s looking at you. You’re casual, offering, “Oh, sorry, did I scare the passenger princess?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, and you’re welcome,” you grumble, slowing to a more reasonable (legal) speed as you turn onto the highway. “Remind me, when was it that I started operating a taxi service for wasted idols?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She rolls her eyes, puts her hands together, bows her head down low. Rich, coming from someone who’s never had to genuinely apologise for anything in her life. “Didn’t realise washed-up trainees had such precious schedules.”

It’s a low blow, her go-to insult for you. Nothing you’re not used to; it’s been years of this, after all.

Years of Wonyoung, the living reminder of your biggest failure, making your life her personal pet project. Years of her smugness, of her flaunting her success in your face, of her demanding more from you, demanding better.

Years of you pushing back, pushing her, and somehow always ending up in the same place, the same bed, the same tangled mess of sweat and spite.

To think it all started when you saw her across that shitty practice room and one of you (you forget who, though it was probably her) said the wrong thing at the wrong time, and it was pure hate at first sight.

“Couldn’t get literally anyone else? Don’t you have friends?” You throw the question out there, keeping your eyes on the road, and not down at her legs, crossing and uncrossing, teasing and taunting.  It’s a herculean task—she’s practically ninety percent leg anyway; so fucking easy to admire, so right wrapped around your waist.

“Trust me, I tried. None of the girls have their license, I definitely can’t call someone from the company, and the last time I tried to get a taxi the fucker recognised me and threatened to leak my address. So that leaves me with you,” Wonyoung sighs. “The last resort.”

“Wow, what an honour,” is your reply. You’re still not looking—not sneaking glances at her stomach, as she stretches in your passenger seat.

As an exercise, you pretend she doesn’t exist. Pretend that the hem of her shirt isn’t rising up, peeling back to grace you with a glimpse of her midriff, that waist, her abs tight and exerted after a night spent out on a dance floor.

It nearly works—for a second, you forget you’re supposed to be annoyed at her.

Right until Wonyoung laughs. Not that fake, high-pitched giggle that she knows you find so grating. No, this has an edge to it, a bite that she reserves just for you. “Don’t pretend like you weren’t waiting for me to call. Or were you in the middle of jerking it to my fancams again?”

There’s the memory, the one loss in territory you haven’t quite recovered from. (A reminder: be less blasé about what you choose to name your saved playlists.)

You fire back with, “Yujin’s actually, but nice try.”

“Whatever, pervert.” Your attempt at a riposte doesn’t work, it’s dismissed, leaving Wonyoung satisfied that she’s won this exchange.

As for her prize, she does what she always does—gets touchy with your property.

She busies herself, fiddling with the touchscreen on your dashboard—’What the fuck is this playlist?’ and 'Why do you listen to this group? You know all those girls are absolute bitches, right?’.

“Stop that.” You reach over to slap her wrist before she starts getting too ambitious and messes with the temperature controls again.

"Hey!” Wonyoung yelps, recoiling, and then pauses. You turn to her, see her annoyingly flawless features scrunch up in disgust as she asks, “What’s that smell?”

You curse under your breath as you realise what’s coming. Wonyoung’s frustratingly sensitive when it comes to scents; she’s got a nose like a bloodhound—and a penchant for sticking it in the parts of your life she doesn’t belong.

She’s gone as far as 'gifting’ you every perfume you’ve owned, every body wash, every shampoo, even your fucking laundry detergent.

Just another way she’s tried to take over your life.

You give your own car a whiff, if only to see if this is just another case of Wonyoung being a brat.

It doesn’t smell bad at all.

In fact, it smells sweet. Too sweet.

“Ew, seriously, what is that? Is that you?”

You’re too slow—she’s got your forearm now. For someone that looks so delicate she’s got a grip like a vice. She brings your wrist up to her nose, sniffing, making her way higher up your arm.

“Let it go, Wonyoung.”

She’s not listening at all, unbuckling her seat belt, leaning over the console, pulling herself closer to you, pushing her body against yours. Whatever little respect Wonyoung had for your personal space is gone; her nose is on your neck, her breath hot against your skin.

“It smells like…” She pauses, getting even closer, taking a deep inhale as she tries to place the fragrance. “Why do you smell like a whore?”

Her voice is low, coloured with a barely noticeable slur. You can feel it: the powder keg about to explode, Wonyoung getting ready to go from zero to a hundred. So, you deflect, “Sure you’re not smelling yourself?”

“Fuck you, I don’t use that cheap shit,” she snaps. “You fucked someone tonight, didn’t you?”

You don’t reply. It’s not like you owe her one, anyway—she’s not your girlfriend, you’re not her boyfriend, you two are…

Rivals, mortal enemies, fuck-buddies, friends-with-benefits (except without the whole friendship part).

(Take your pick, call it whatever you want, or in Wonyoung’s case: don’t call it anything at all.)

“Who—who was it this time?” Wonyoung’s fingers tighten around your arm, and there’s that spark in her eyes.

Every chance she gets, she’ll insist she gives so few fucks about your personal life, but one mention of another woman and she’s diving right in the mud, for once not hiding the fact that she may actually give a shit about you.

It’s probably why you do it.

“Who’s the slut dumb enough to spread her legs for you?”

Now it’s your turn to avoid her gaze, to pretend that having her this close isn’t doing wild things to your heartrate. You make an unforced error: “None of your business.”

“So you did fuck someone.” Her hand moves down your arm, dragging her fake acrylics across your skin until they find purchase in your thigh, digging in hard enough to make you flinch. “You fucked someone I know didn’t you. Who…” She’s reading you, trying to find the answer somewhere in the stress lines of your face. “Hyewon. Yena. Yuri. I swear if it was fucking Eunbi, I’m going to—”

“Going to what?” You challenge. You know this game. You’ve played it before—every damn time she gets like this (and you know where it leads). “Going to lie to me about your own personal survival show back there?”

Wonyoung scoffs. It’s a throaty sound that seems almost foreign coming from her—too impolite, too uncouth for the elegant, refined image she’s painstakingly cultivated. But she makes it anyway, because she’s had a few too many drinks and you’re the only one who’s around to see her like this—raw, unfiltered. “Those losers? I’m not like you, bringing home every pair of tits that strokes your ego.”

“Good to know that I’m special then,” you smirk, but she’s not smiling back.

No, she’s just looking at you, in that annoying, Wonyoung way. It’s those big, doe eyes of hers that you’ve seen do so much damage before—make men bend over backwards, light themselves on fire just to get her to look their way. “You wish.”

You push on, push her just a little bit. “Drop the act, Wony. I wasn’t your last resort—I’m the only one you even considered. You needed your daddy—isn’t that what you were calling me before?”

“I never said that.”

“Wony—”

“And if I did, I’ll never say it again,” she declares, before emphasising. “Never. Again.”

But you know her better than that. You know her lies just as well as she knows yours; it’s in the quickness of her response, the defensiveness—the vulnerability.

“I doubt that,” you say, making the most of the tiny crack in Wonyoung’s armour. “I remember you screaming it. Had you cumming like a fountain—ruined a perfectly good set of sheets, you know?”

“You’re disgusting,” she hisses, but she’s got the same memories in her head—that same night, so similar to this one (so similar to every night before).

The fighting, the fucking, the endless cycle of pushing each other’s button until one of you snaps.

“And what about you? You got here awfully quick for two in the morning,” she says. Her hand’s still on your thigh, less nails, more fingertips now, tracing patterns through the denim of your jeans. “Couldn’t bear the thought of me with someone else, could you? Lie to me—tell me that you weren’t waiting to get your hands on me again.”

Your denial dies before it even makes it past your lips—your own body turns traitor on you, provoked by her hand rising higher. There’s a smile as Wonyoung finds what she was looking for, the proof in the stretching of your jeans, the outline of your cock begging for more of her attention.

“At least this part of you is honest,” she muses, fingers dancing around your growing stiffness.

You grit your teeth, doing your best to keep the car steady, managing to grind out, “Please. It’s like you said, any decent pair of tits does it for me. Even your tiny ones get the job done.”

Her hand freezes on your thigh—you’ve hit a nerve, hit that dark part of her that’s so desperate for validation. “You think you can replace me? Find someone else to fill your sad, lonely nights?”

She’s closer now, her breath against your neck, her fingers drumming a beat right over where the head of your cock is. It’s a heady feeling, one that you hate and crave all at once.

“Was she even good?”

You know what she’s really asking: Was she better than me?

And you know the answer: How could anyone be?

But you don’t say that. You don’t need to. Instead, you reply, “It’s not a competition.”

“Everything’s a competition.”

Wonyoung’s hand relaxes, nails retreating from your thigh, leaving you flustered and fighting against the constraints of your own jeans. She settles back into her seat, having done her damage.

And for a moment, silence reigns inside your car, allowing you to actually focus on the road. Not that it really matters, you know the route to her apartment by heart—you could drive it blindfolded if need be. It’s just a welcome distraction to avoid dealing with the state she’s left you in.

The quiet survives a beat, two, and then Wonyoung’s squirming, shifting in the passenger seat.

And then she does it again.

And again.

You should keep your eyes ahead—you need to keep your eyes ahead.

You know exactly what you’re going to find if you look over at her.

That’s the problem with you and Wonyoung. You know each other too well. Your likes, your dislikes. What gets you off. What makes you mad.

What drives you fucking wild.

And yet, because you’re a sucker for punishment, you still risk a glance, and see Wonyoung, leaning back in her seat, her hand sliding up her own thigh, so casually drifting up her soft, bare skin, higher and higher.

The skirt rises, inch by torturous inch, and it’s those panties—the same set that was around her ankles the last time you had her bent over your couch, swearing she’d hate you forever. The same set that’s probably already soaked, just waiting for you to rip them off again.

You have to tell her to stop, to keep her hands to herself, to not do this to you, not now. Not while you’re trying to keep you both on the fucking road. But your mouth is dry, and all you can manage is a choked, “Wonyoung—”

Her fingers have slid past the hem of her skirt, now playing with the lace that’s the only barrier between her and open air. She’s biting into the plumpness of her bottom lip, staring at you, expecting your full attention, even now. There’s no subtlety with her, there never is, it’s one of the few things Wonyoung’s bad at.

You swallow hard, finding your voice. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Making myself comfortable,” she says, a little breathy now, as her fingers slip under the lace. “You got a problem with it?”

There’s the flash of skin, a gasp as her fingers find purchase between her folds. She’s so wet that you can hear it—the slickness of her arousal, the quiet sound of fabric sliding against her skin.

You’re straining, gripping the steering wheel so hard it’s a miracle it doesn’t snap in two. Her hand’s dipping lower, her finger sliding inside herself; not deep, not yet, just teasing. Enough to make you want to pull over, to grab her and throw her on the hood of your car, to show her exactly why you’re the only she thinks about when she’s lonely and desperate.

But you don’t, despite the way your body is begging for you to do something, anything, to ease the ache in your cock.

Because if you stop, it’s over. You know how this ends—or rather, you know how she’ll want it to end. She’ll want you to apologise for even being in the proximity of another woman, she’ll want you to beg for her forgiveness so that she might bestow upon you the privilege of touching her again.

If you’re lucky, she just might let you. But only if you play her games.

So you drive faster.

You push the speed limit, weaving through the mostly empty streets.  You’re racing to a finish line, except all that’s waiting at the end of it is the taste of Wonyoung on your tongue, the feeling of her wrapped around you, the sweet victory of making her scream.

It’s hell—ignoring the sound of her pleasure, the wetness of her fingers working in and out of herself. There’s glimpses of her in the corner of your eye, she’s still watching you. She’s enjoying this, loving every second of it.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, oh-so-innocently, even though she doesn’t expect an answer—she just likes to hear her own voice. “Getting distracted? It’s a long, long way back to my place. No one can blame you if you need to give up and pull over.” 

Wonyoung’s getting bolder now, pulling her skirt up to her waist, parting her legs for you, so you can see her hand moving faster, her hips rising to meet her own touch. So you can hear her, hear the fucking sound of each stroke of her fingers inside her, punctuated each time by a wet slap of her palm against her cunt, reverberating through the car, taunting you.

“You want it, don’t you?” She throws the question out so casually, like of course it’s only natural for her to be fingering herself in your car, of course she should be doing everything in her power to make you want to drive into a fucking wall. “I can tell, you’re so desperate to touch me. Definitely going to die if you don’t fuck me soon. Maybe even right here, right now?”

Your foot slips and the car swerves a little—it’s not much, but it’s enough to let her know that you’re losing focus, that she’s winning.

“Careful,” she laughs. “You wouldn’t want to crash before we get to the fun part.”

“You can’t wait until we get back to your place?” You finally ask, the question burning in your throat.

“No. You need to be reminded that you’re-ah-mine,” comes Wonyoung’s answer. “You’re going to fuck me anyway, so why not-mmph-why not save us both the trouble and get started on my own?”

“You don’t own me, Wonyoung.”

To that, Wonyoung raises a carefully sculpted eyebrow.

It’s not even worth a proper reply. Without a word, Wonyoung reclines back into her seat and snaps open the buttons of her shirt, nonchalantly revealing the swell of her breasts, the darkened peaks of her nipples.

No bra—they’re just there. Right there, in your face—those tiny, round, perky tits that you’ve had in your hands, that you’ve had between your teeth, that you’ve covered with your cum more times than you can count.

She’s not shy about it—never has been—arching her back, pushing her breasts out even further. It’s the confidence from knowing every other idol (hell, every other woman in the world) would sell their soul to have a body like hers. So why the fuck not flaunt it?

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s true,” she says, reaching up to her chest. A palm finds her tits, pinching and rolling the sensitive nubs, making them nice and red and swollen for you.

She’s moving faster now, grinding down on her own hand, teeth sinking down into her bottom lip so deep you’re surprised she hasn’t drawn blood. Her breaths are getting shorter and shorter, she’s so close, she’s so fucking turned on, she’s so hot it hurts.

Her eyes remain fixed on you; seeing you struggle only makes her hotter, spurs her to circle her clit faster. She’s drinking you in—the tightness of your jaw, the way your eyes can’t decide whether to keep on the road or on her, the way you swallow, trying (and failing) to keep it together.

The worst part of it all is this wicked smile that’s settled on her lips; thoughts of wiping it off her face with your cock flash through your mind. She’s just so fucking smug about it, so sure of herself.

And maybe she should be.

“Admit it,” Wonyoung purrs. “Admit that you need me.”

“Why would I? You’re just a convenient hole to fill.” It’s not true, of course. You’ve never believed it; none of the hundred times you’ve said it to her before—and she’s never once been fooled.

Wonyoung is back in your ear, “You’re a bad liar.”

Her hand’s returned to your thigh, teasing closer and closer to where you really want it to be. You grunt a weak, “Wonyoung, if you think that’s going to work—”

But she doesn’t listen (she never does).

She reaches for the bulge in your pants, far too quick for you to stop her from wrapping her fingers around you, from taking a hold of you and squeezing.

“See?” She whispers, thick with satisfaction, feeling you throb in her grip. “You’re already about to burst. You can’t resist me. No one can.”

You’re not backing down. You’ve got your own pride to think of, after all. “Save it for your fan club.”

Wonyoung’s never been one to take no for an answer. Her hand moves with purpose, sliding over your zipper and giving it a forceful tug. The sound rings through the car, and it’s an out of body experience; it’s all in slow motion as she pulls out your hard, aching cock.

Fuck.

“Last chance to pull over.” Wonyoung takes a hold of you, fingers curling around your cock with a firm grip that leaves no room for doubt—she’s not letting go until she gets what she wants.  “Who knows what will happen if you keep driving like this. Wouldn’t want to ruin these expensive leather seats with your cum, now would we?”

“Not a fucking chance.”

“Your funeral,” she answers, her smile widening into a full-blown grin as she starts to move, stroking you, her hand gliding up and down your shaft with familiar ease. “Or ours, I guess.”

She’s not making it easy—there’s the slow, deliberate pumps, her thumb circling the head, her fingers teasing the sensitive skin. It’s so natural for her, so goddamn good. 

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Wonyoung’s question hangs in the air, joining the sound of her fist pumping your cock, the squish of her own fingers plunging in and out of her cunt. It’s a taunting metronome, the more you try to ignore her, the tighter she squeezes, the fastest she strokes you, the louder she moans in your ear. “Are you sure you can handle me?”

“I’ve done it before and I can do it again,” you grit out. “You’re going to be the one begging for it in the end. Like always.”

She huffs, and you’ve found your mark. “Oh, really? You think you’re so much better than me? You think you can just ignore me like that?”

“Better than you? Easily,” you answer. “You’re just a pretty face and a pair of legs that can’t keep itself shut.”

That makes her stroke you harder, tighter now, firmer, she’s trying to make this hurt. “Is that what you tell yourself?���

“What gives you the impression I even think about you at all?”

“Oh, I know it keeps you up at night—thinking about me, wondering if I’m thinking about you, wondering if any other slut can make you feel the way I do,” Wonyoung’s leaning on you, chin propped up on your shoulder, a devil in your ear. “You hate it, don’t you? You hate that it’s my cunt that you can’t get out of your head, that it’s my pretty lips that you need so badly around your cock.”

"Are you sure you’re not just projecting, Wony?” You ask, glancing down to her hand between her legs, her fingers deep in her folds, her cunt dripping with juices and making a small puddle beneath her. “Look at how wet you are at just the thought of having my cock back between your pretty lips again.”

“Fuck you.” Wonyoung’s panting, short harsh breaths. There’s no conviction in her voice, no denial to be found—this dance of spite and lust has her so fucking heated. All of it—the hate, the competition, the push and pull: it’s all just foreplay. “You’re nothing to me. Nothing but a back-up plan, a toy I play with when I’m bored.”

“Now who’s a bad liar.”

“Go fuck your—”

You don’t let her finish her insult. You’re tired of the back and forth, the games, the fucking power plays. You take your hand off the steering wheel, grabbing her by the hair, wrenching her head up to meet your eyes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re—” Wonyoung’s mistake is opening her mouth in protest—you push her face down onto your cock; not giving her a chance to argue, not giving her a chance to do anything but suck you dry like the skinny little slut she is.

She chokes, hacks a cough as you plunge your cock down her throat, her nose meeting your waist, and it nearly has you emptying into her mouth then and there.

Turns out, she’s right.

You do need this. Need to feel her perfect, pouty lips on you again, her teeth grazing against your skin, her tongue giving in and worshipping you like she’s never done with anyone else.

You keep a hand wrapped up in a fistful of her hair, but you don’t even need to hold her down—she doesn’t fight you, doesn’t even make the slightest noise of protest. No, she just takes it; never mind how much her eyes water, her mouth drools.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning before you can think better of it, and just like that, you’re conceding the smallest victory to her.

And it makes her smile around your cock.

You grunt in response; buck your hips, feed her your cock, make her gag (make her regret it).

You don’t ease up, because if there’s one thing you know about Wonyoung (one thing you know about fucking Wonyoung), it’s that the most insulting thing you can do to her is to take it easy on her.

Just fuck her face and behold the sight of Wonyoung taking your cock. God, her pretty lips wrapped around you, her throat bulging at your length, her teary eyes staring up at you with a mix of defiance and something that’s eerily close to adoration.

It almost makes you forget that you’re supposed to be driving, and it takes a honk from a car behind you and a smile and a curt nod from Wonyoung to remind you of the world rushing by outside.

You pull your eyes back to the road, both hands on the steering wheel to right the car back on track, barely escaping death by deepthroat.

Wonyoung laughs around your cock, a muffled sound that sends vibrations up your shaft. You try to ignore it, but she’s already seizing the opportunity, taking full advantage of the distraction to push down on her own accord, to take you deep—to start properly sucking.

You swerve again.

Her mouth is absolute heaven, pure and simple—she’s a fucking master at this. Your cock’s been in her mouth so many times before that she could probably write an instruction manual on exactly how to make you come unglued.

Too much all at once—you’re groaning now, unable to help it. She’s not even trying that hard; just taking your cock between her lips, sliding it all the way down her throat, a few gentle licks here, a swirl of her tongue there, but it’s more than enough. It’s what keeps you coming back. No one else feels like this—no one else has mapped out your cock like she has—every inch, every vein.

It’s the rhythm that she’s got down to a science: how fast to take you, how much pressure to apply, when to break from her pace to keep you teetering on the edge.

You can feel her eyes on you, scanning you for any sign of weakness—this is precisely where she wants to be. Like this was her decision—like everything leading up to this was part of some messed up strategy to provoke you, to make sure that your cock ended up in her mouth.

You don’t get a chance to dwell on that thought, not when Wonyoung’s teeth is at the base of your cock, her cheeks hollowed out, her tongue doing these little flicks that make your toes curl.

And there’s the question in her eyes: ’is that all you got?’.

Fuck it—risk taking your hand off the steering wheel, it belongs in her silky, dark hair. Make her eyes widen, make her take you deeper, kiss the back of her throat with the tip of your cock, force these divine fucking sounds.

The noises when she gags around you, when the spit is hacked up and drooled down your cock; she’s so sloppy, so filthy.  

And she takes it, takes all of it.

Push her down before pulling her up by the hair, choke her, gag her, have her slobber all over your cock, make her feel you.

Wonyoung takes and takes and takes.

It’s fucked up how you’re treating her (how she’s letting you treat her); she’s an idol for fucks sake. But that’s the last concern you have on your mind—all you can focus on is how fucking good it feels to do this to her, to have her fighting for air around your cock, fighting to keep her eyes on you as you fill them with tears.

Wonyoung’s not giving up though—she’s timing it, timing you. When to relax her throat to take you deep. When to suction her lips. Where to dart her tongue to find that sensitive spot along your shaft.

She’s battling back, in her own way, just as determined as you are to not lose this war of wills. But in the end, you’re the one in the driver’s seat.

“Mmmph,” she’s the one moaning now, moaning around your cock. Shivering in your lap, body jerking and trembling; you can tell her fingers are still buried in her cunt, playing with herself.

She’s so fucking shameless, so fucking pretty, even like this—cheeks flushed, makeup smeared, eyes watering.

You want to kiss her, but that would mean separating her lips from your cock. You want to tell her how much you hate her, but the words won’t come out—they’re stuck in your throat, lodged between your grinding teeth.

“Wait—fuck.” You realise you’ve missed your turn, a split second too late. You jerk the steering wheel, needing both hands as you pull a sharp U-turn. The tires squeal as you try to correct your error, Wonyoung’s mouth around your dick scrambling your brains.

She pulls her lips off from your cock with a hollow ‘pop’. “I thought you could handle me?”

You try to reply—try to form a single coherent thought—but the chance slips by as Wonyoung’s back on the offense, back throating your cock so quickly that your vision swims.

A deep breath is what you need to keep it together. You’re barely thinking straight, holding onto the steering wheel for dear life, doing everything you can to keep yourself from giving up (giving in to Wonyoung’s mouth).

But it’s hard. So fucking hard.

You’ve blown far past any normal speed limit, trying to keep from spinning out with every one of her enthusiastic bobs—it’s by some divine benevolence the car hasn’t completely flipped over by now.

Wonyoung’s relentless, her mouth’s a fucking black hole, sucking you in, stealing every thought from your mind until there’s nothing rattling around your skull but the feel of her wet, warm lips on your cock, and the obscene sounds of her fingers sawing in and out of her pussy, fucking herself.

You’re almost there, and Wonyoung knows it. You can feel it in the suction of her lips, in how hard she’s working you over. It’s the sweetest kind of torture—knowing that she’s got you right where she wants you, that she’s got you on the edge and you can’t do anything about it.

You’re not going to last much longer.

Neither is she.

So you drive. You drive like your life depends on it, because maybe it does. Maybe the only thing keeping you sane is the promise of your eventual release, of filling her mouth with her cum, of pulling her onto your lap and fucking her cunt raw until she screams your name.

“Come on, you can do it,” she’s taunting you now, lathering your cock with just her tongue, dragging it along your length, licking you all the way from your balls to your head. She’s giggling as she steals the pre-cum from your tip, the fucking bitch—like she’s got all the power in the world.

You can see her apartment building in the distance, a beacon of light in the darkness.

You’re almost there.

You reach for the garage remote, mashing the button as you get closer and closer (you’re going to break it). The gate sluggishly opens, and you make a sharp turn to swerve into the dimly lit building, not bothering to slow down.

You can’t, not when Wonyoung’s balancing your cock on her tongue, her hand now squeezing at your base, stroking so fast, so erratic, determined to have you cum in her mouth as soon as fucking possible.

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?” she asks, expectantly. “Cover me in it, give me what I deserve—show me how much you need me.”

The car’s screeching to the closest parking space, the sound echoing through the garage, as you skid between parallel white lines.

You’re cumming before the car’s even completely stopped.

It’s explosive; a white-hot heat searing through your veins, a roar in your ears as you shower Wonyoung’s perfect face with ropes of cum. She’s still jerking you off with her hand, her mouth hovering around the head of your cock, slurping up every drop she can get.

“All mine,” she chants, greedy for it. You pulse in her hand, your cum spurting over her cheekbones, across her nose, painting over that tiny dark freckle above the corner of her mouth.

She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink; she’s a statue, a goddess demanding her sacrifice. Her grip is ironclad, stroking you through your orgasm, not stopping until you’re drained, until your cock is twitching in her hand and there’s nothing left but a sticky mess plastered across her big, wide grin.

You feel the last of your orgasm pulse out of you, dripping down her dainty fingers. She licks her lips, smearing your cum across her cheek with her thumb before she sits up straight, basking in her victory.

“Fuck, Wonyoung,” you manage to get out, your chest heaving, your hand finally loosening its grip on the steering wheel.

“Mm-hmm,” she nods, not looking away from you, not breaking the eye contact that’s holding you in place. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

She’s not done yet—she still has to take her victory lap.

Wonyoung pulls herself off you, giving the tip of your cock a parting kiss as she sits back in her seat. She lifts her legs up—those endless stretches of porcelain skin—one after another, slow, dramatic, placing her bare feet on the dashboard.

Her skirt rides up, and with a stretch she drags her panties up her thighs, along her calves, and off her feet; the lace is soaked with her juices, leaving a trail of stickiness as she reveals herself to you.

The panties disappear somewhere into the backseat of your car, another spoil of war, and she spreads her legs wide, so wide, making sure you have a perfect view of her gleaming cunt. You can see her clit, peeking out from between her folds, and it’s all you can do to keep your hand from reaching over and taking over.

But this is her show, isn’t it? This is all for her, all about her getting off. And she’s fucking drowning in it—fingers in her cunt again almost immediately, so wet, so hot, so shameless in your car, so confident in her ability to get what she wants from you.

Her hips rock up and down, she’s fucking herself in front of you—for you. She’s daring you to look away, challenging you to deny how fucking hot she is.

You can’t.

“I’m going to cum now.” It’s a low hush, confident. “Watch me. Don’t move. Just fucking watch me.”

Wonyoung’s eyes are crystal clear, staring deep into you with the look of a girl who’s gotten everything she’s ever wanted in life. It’s that look she gets right before she shatters, and you know she’s there—right fucking there.

Her other hand reaches up, cradling your cheek, needing some connection, needing you to be with her. It’s not enough to just simply cum, she needs you to see it, to be a part of it in some twisted way.

“Just look at you,” Wonyoung says, like she’s not the one that’s covered in your cum, that’s not bucking her hips into her hand, working herself into a frenzy, like she’s trying to tear herself apart. “You can’t keep your eyes off me, can you?”

And she’s right—you hate her, you love her, you want to fuck her, you want to strangle her—it’s all a jumble of emotions in your head.

“That’s it—keep looking at me—don’t fucking take your eyes off me—fuck—yes—I’m going to—”

The only warning you get is a strangled gasp as Wonyoung cums, feeling it through her entire body, forcing her to keel over by just the force of it, making her fall into you.

Her hand on your cheek drags down to wrap around your neck, anchoring herself to you, pulling herself closer so she can smash her mouth against yours.

She’s kissing you, really kissing you, mouth open and hungry, all teeth and tongue, sloppy and wet. She’s marking her territory now, claiming you as she cums, and fuck, you can still taste yourself on her lips—salty and bitter.

Wonyoung’s hand is still working her clit, prolonging her bliss, and then she’s climbing on top of you, straddling you, grinding down on your half-hard cock as she rides out the last of her orgasm.

Her thighs are sticky with her juices, her skirt riding up so high that you can see the bare, plump skin of her ass, and you’re fighting the urge to just push it aside and plunge your cock inside her—

But she’s not giving you that satisfaction—not yet.

Her climax dies right on top of you—her hips rolling on her fingers, her body living and dying on the last embers of pleasure.

Finally, Wonyoung stops, collapsing against your chest, and you let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of her body pressing down on you. She’s a mess, a fucking disaster, and you hold her tight, your arms around her impossibly tiny waist, your cock coming back to life between her thighs.

It’s intimate, almost kind of romantic in a way that’s entirely fucked up, considering, well everything. You’re both a mess of cum and sweat, panting against each other, intertwined together in the driver’s seat of your car, the garage lights flickering overhead like some kind of sick mood lighting.

Wonyoung laughs.

“You’re all sticky.” She leans back, taking her finger and swiping it across your cheek, coming away with a glistening strand of your own cum, a rope that must have strayed from her face and onto yours.

There’s a glint in her eyes, a dirty little idea, and before you can even react, she’s leaning in again, her tongue tracing the line of your jaw, collecting the rogue drops of you.

She rolls her hips down and over you as she does it, stirring your cock back to attention, because apparently she’s not done with you yet.

“You’re a fucking bitch, Wonyoung,” you reply, but there’s no venom behind it. You’re just stating a fact: the sky is blue, the sun rises in the east, and Wonyoung is a bitch.

It’s just the way she is.

You can feel her smirking against your neck, you can picture the look on her face—like she’s already won. It’s infuriating, really, and you’ve got to even the score.

“What are you going to do, take me upstairs and punish me?”

“No,” you say, the word sticking in your throat like it’s made of honey. “Not upstairs.”

“Here?” Wonyoung looks around your car, doing a terrible job of feigning shock (as if she doesn’t know what you’re about to do to her). Yes, she’s a horrendous actress, but it would take an Oscar worthy performance to mask the heat radiating from her thighs, her cunt dripping down onto your lap. “What makes you think I’d let you?”

“What makes you think you have a choice?”  

A press of a button has your seat sliding back, giving you just enough room to lift Wonyoung up, hoisting her above you like she’s a trophy you just won. Congratulations, here’s your Grand Prize—Wonyoung’s tight body, yours for the night (yours for every night).

She can’t do anything but be held by you, have her hips positioned, her cunt aligned with your cock—in your hands, at your mercy, under your control.

“Wait, wait—fuck—”

And then you slam into her.

“Daddy!”

That word. That filthy, devastating word is fucked out of her mouth, a gasping scream as you bury yourself deep into her.

You’d do anything to hear it again.

You don’t bother with gentleness or foreplay—this isn’t a romantic reunion after a long day apart. It’s your hands on her narrow hips; hers doing its best to brace herself on the roof of the car, the window, anywhere she can get a grip.

“Say it again,” you grunt, pulling her back down on you, so hard that she bounces back up, only to be met by another thrust.

“Fuck you,” she spits out, but she’s moaning with every thrust, tightening around you each time, her body betraying her words.

“Fuck you, who?” You’re laughing now, the sound thick and low in your throat as you watch her squirm in your grasp. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that, baby.”

“You know who,” she says, her eyes flying open, glaring at you as she catches her breath. “You always know who.”

“Then say it.”

“Fuck you, daddy.”

“That’s fucking right.”

Her legs are trembling around your waist as you drive into her, her nails digging into the threads of your shirt. She’s begging you for more—harder, faster, deeper—because that’s what she wants from you, that’s what she needs from you. It’s always been like this—no soft embraces, no tender kisses. Just more, more, more.

You wrap your hand around her throat, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to remind her who’s in charge, who’s giving it to her. You lean in, so close her eyes cross, and whisper in her ear, “This is all you’re good for, you know that?”

Wonyoung’s response is to tense her muscles, clench her cunt around you, buck her hips to slap her ass against your thighs. Another battleground in your endless fight for dominance. Fighting for control, trying to dictate the pace, to set the rhythm, to be the one doing the fucking and not the one getting fucked.

And fuck, she’s tight.

Her cunt, her waist, her body. God, it’s like she was built for this.

Designed to fit perfectly in the palm of your hand, to be filled by your cock, to have her skirt hiked up to her waist like a flag of surrender. You’ve got her right where you want her, where she’s always been, where she always will be.

“I fucking hate how good you are at this,” she gasps, the confession spilling from her lips.

You laugh, “I fucking hate you too.”

She’s kissing you again, fingers in your hair now, scraping the back of your scalp, as she rises and falls on your cock. Reflex has your hand tightening around her throat, feeling her pulse quicken beneath your thumb, making her choke out another ‘daddy’.

You’re fucking her like you hate her, like you’re trying to punish her for every sharp word and cold shoulder she’s ever thrown your way. And she’s taking it like she loves it, like she’s been waiting for this all night, all year, all her fucking life.

Wonyoung looks so fucking good, so perfect riding you like this, it’s starting to piss you off. Her hair’s framing her face in perfect waves, not a single strand out of place, even though you’ve had your hands all through it, your fingers tangled in it. Her makeup’s smudged—you can see the tracks of your cum on her cheek—but she wears it like a fucking badge of honour—and like all things, it looks good on her.

It’s like the universe took one look at her and said, ‘nah, she’s too pretty to let any of that shit ruin her.’

But you’ll try.

Keep going—keep fucking; each moan into your mouth, each push of her tongue against your own, each graze of her teeth against your skin—tells you you’re getting there.

Like you’re trying to fuck out all the spite and anger that’s been building up between you, like you can somehow purge it from your systems and just be left with the good parts.

(It’s never that simple.)

“Wonyoung—” you start, but she cuts you off.

“If I could just have your cock without the rest of you—without your stupid mouth, without that fucking look on your face—fuck yes, just like that—without all the bullshit and fighting—fuck, fuck, fuck—”

You don’t believe her, of course—you’re not just a cock to her, the same as she’s not just a pussy to you. But you let her have her fantasy, let her keep pretending she’s just using you for a good time.

“You’re such a bitch,” you murmur, making her chuckle in your ear, her teeth finding the sensitive skin of your lobe, biting down and making you hiss.

Wonyoung’s confession: “Only because it—gah—makes you fuck me harder.”

And it does—it makes you want to show her, prove yourself to her, make her feel it the next day and every day after. Fuck her until she’s nothing but a trembling, whimpering mess, until she’s begging for you to stop. Until she’s begging for you to never stop.

You’re both getting sloppier now, Wonyoung’s hips stuttering as you pound that spot deep inside her, the one that makes her see stars and scream your name, the car shaking with the force of your fucking.

It’s a badly-kept secret you’re keeping from the world outside—the car’s rocking, the lights inside are on, making no efforts to hide what the two of you are doing (doing to each other).

If anyone looks closely enough, if the security cameras in the garage get curious and zoom in, they’ll see your silhouettes; her body arching back, your hips thrusting up and into her.

They’ll see Jang Wonyoung, the princess of the industry, getting fucked in the front seat of a car like some common whore.

And she’s loving it. The danger, the thrill of being seen, the risk that anyone could walk by and hear her moan your name, her voice strained by your hand on her throat. It’s the fact that she’s letting you do this to her, that she’s letting you fuck her like this, even when she’s telling you she fucking hates it.

This moment—Wonyoung—right here, is what you live for.

You want to save it, to bottle it up and keep it with you forever. You want to remember how she feels, how she tastes, the fucking sounds she makes when she’s just about to cum. You want to replay this in your head every time you’re alone, every time you’re with someone else—because even though there might be someone else, they’ll never come fucking close to her.

And then you get an idea.

It’s a terrible idea, one that’ll surely end in disaster—like all the best ideas.

You hold down on Wonyoung’s hips, stopping her mid-thrust, and she’s whining, letting slip just how good you’re making her feel.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she snaps, taking short, sharp inhales, replenishing all the oxygen you’ve fucked out of her.

You ignore her, reaching for the dashboard camera that’s been silently facing outside, towards the wall of the garage. It’s been switched on the entire time, waiting to record the car crash inside—you and Wonyoung tearing each other apart.

Wonyoung’s scared. “Oh no, don’t you fucking—”

But she can’t stop you. You’re already spinning it around, pointing it directly at her cum-covered face, her sweat-drenched body.

“Smile for the camera, Wony.”

Her mouth opens, but she can’t muster the words. You’re fucking her again, the camera watching everything, capturing every moan, every slight quiver of her body. It’s a side of her nobody gets to see—the side you’re most familiar with.

Wonyoung at her most honest, when she’s undeniably yours.

Just her—getting used (using you)—and fuck, there’s nothing more worthy to be captured and preserved for all eternity.

Her eyes dart to the camera, then back to you, her mind racing a mile a minute. You can see the gears turning—she’s trying to figure out how to get out of this, how to win back some ground, but she’s lost.

You’ve got her, and she knows it.

You’re fucking her, and she has no choice but to follow—whether she likes it or not.

“Fine,” she says, the admission torn from her throat as you push back into her. “But if this leaks—if you ever show this to anyone, I’ll fucking kill you.”

You just laugh. “You really think so little of me? Like anyone would believe it anyway.”

And you mean it. You’re not that stupid. But the thought of having a permanent record of this moment, of Wonyoung, begging in high definition—it has you hooked.

You can’t help but add, “But we’ll always know it’s there, won’t we? Forever.”

Wonyoung narrows her brows at you, but she doesn’t protest anymore. Instead, she does the opposite. She starts to lean into it.

She tips her head back, arching her spine so that her tits are pushed up, giving the camera a picture-perfect shot of her body, her chest, the stiffness of her nipples—everything.

Jang Wonyoung—always the performer.

A free hand runs through her hair, flinging it back over her shoulder, and she starts to roll her whole body; fucking herself on you in a way that’s so deliberate, so fucking pornographic.

“God, I fucking hate this.” Wonyoung puts it on public record, eyes never leave yours as she performs for the camera—or for you, it’s hard to tell.

“What’s that, baby?” You tease. "You hate how good this feels?”

“I hate that it’s you,” she says, the words forced out between gasps. “I hate how fucking hot you are.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

You’ll never understand it. How someone you despise so much, with every fibre of your being, can fit so perfectly around you, feel so downright incredible on top of you. It’s a cruel joke that the universe decided to play on you both.

But you play along, let her ride you like it’s her fucking birthright, lock you in some petty staring contest, keep your mind filled with nothing but the tightness of her cunt.

You’re both panting now, sweat slicking your skin, making it easier for her to slide up and down on your cock. Her small tits bounce with every movement, and you can’t help but reach out to grab one, pinch it hard, making her wince, making her gasp.

“Fuck—you should quit whatever the fuck you’re doing,” she says, trying her best to form complete sentences through the pain, the bliss. “Work for me.”

“And do what?”

“I don’t know.” Wonyoung looks down at you and you can see it on her face: the fucking slut is dead serious. “Manager, bodyguard, assistant. Whatever I can do to keep you close so you can fuck me like this whenever I want. If Yujin can have her drummer boy, it’s only fair that I get you.”

“Why the fuck would I want to spend all day waiting on you?”

She corrects you: “Spend all day inside of me.”

There’s your fantasy—mornings fucking Wonyoung in some hotel room, drinking all the juices from her pussy in the car on the way to work, having her suck your cock backstage at some concert, making her scream your name every night before going to sleep.

And then waking up and doing it all again.

There’s no hiding the smirk on your face. “Go fuck yourself, Wonyoung.”

Wonyoung mirrors your grin, that wild, cock-drunk look in her eyes. “Why would I do that when I have you?”

“No.” You’re pulling her close, holding her body tight to you, making her feel it. “You’re mine.”

That word again—'daddy’ on her lips, turning into a desperate cry as her thighs tense on either side of you, her hands locking behind your neck. She’s holding on tight, because you’re not giving her a choice, you’re not giving her anything but what she’s begging for.

You watch her face in the reflection of the car window—the way her mouth hangs open, the way her eyes flutter shut and then open again, searching for something, anything to keep her grounded.

"Fuck me like I’m yours,” Wonyoung pleads. “You own me? Then fucking treat me like you do. Treat me like I’m your fucking whore, daddy.”

It’s too much, all of it. Wonyoung: her face—those lips, her body—those fucking legs, her voice—the way she says your name, how she calls you daddy, like it’s a fucking curse. You’re so close to the edge now, so close to cumming again, cumming inside her. You can feel the beginnings of it, the tension coiling in your balls, the white creeping into your vision.

But she’s still talking—and so are you, you realise.

One of you cries out—holy shit—answered with a—so fucking good—followed by an exchange of—fuck yous—and—I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

It keeps going, this fucking, this using, this hating—whatever this is.

“I fucking hate you—”

“Hate you too—”

“Hate how good your cunt feels—”

“Hate how big your cock is—”

“Hate how perfect you are—”

“Hate how much I want your fucking cum—”

“Fucking slut—"

“Daddy—”

“I’m going to—"

"Please!"

And that’s it.

It’s over—your cock pulsing deep inside her, Wonyoung’s cunt clamping down around you, and you’re cumming—together—tightening and writhing and calling each other every name under the sun, except maybe the one that actually matters.

Wonyoung’s head falls back, losing control of her own body, the camera catching every glorious moment as she cums, her orgasm ripping through her in a scream that you feel in every inch of your body.

You kiss her—her tits, her neck, her jaw, her lips—claiming her, making sure she feels every drop of you. You hate her, you love her, you hate that you love her, you love that she needs you, you hate that you need her.

And all the while the camera keeps rolling, capturing your sweaty, heaving chests; capturing you filling her, spilling out of her, giving her the cum she so desperately pleaded for. It’s so much more intimate than any kiss, any love confession, any of that romantic shit she sings about.

But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

It’s every twitch, every shiver, every little pulse of your release flooding her. How she tenses and clenches around you, soaks you with her wetness, drowns you in her tight, drenched heat.

And she keeps calling you it—whispering it—‘daddy’—over and over again, even as she’s coming down from the high, even as she’s gasping for air, even as she’s forcing her tongue into your mouth.

Wonyoung slumps against you, your cum dripping out of her and down your cock, staining the leather of your car seats. You can feel the stickiness of it, the mess you’ve made together. It makes you want to do it all over again.

To make her say it again, to make her scream it again.

“You’re so fucking mine,” you murmur against her neck, kissing her collarbone, tasting the salt of her sweat.

Wonyoung just nods, too exhausted to argue, too satisfied to care. Her hand finds yours, weaves your fingers together, and you hold onto her, tight. It’s sickeningly sweet, and yet, despite your best efforts, the insult, the quip to break the spell doesn’t come.

Because in the end, you don’t want to kill the moment—not when it’s so perfect.

You don’t want to ruin it with talk of the real world, with the harshness of the light that’ll be waiting outside the car door.

You stay there, parked in the garage of her apartment building, the headlights dimming down to black. The air is thick with the smell of sex and sweat, the taste of it lingering on your tongues. It’s a bubble you’re both loath to burst—because once it does, once it pops, you’re just Wonyoung and some guy she fucking hates again.

“Thank you, daddy.” Wonyoung’s breathing slows, her grip on you loosens. She’s drifting off, the stress of the night and the alcohol finally claiming her.

You don’t know how long you sit there, the two of you tangled together. It’s quiet except for the occasional hum from her, a cute little sound that she’s probably unaware she makes. It’s soothing, almost sweet.

But reality has a way of crashing in, doesn’t it?

You know you can’t stay here forever. You know you’ve got to get her upstairs before someone sees, before the cameras (the dangerous ones, the ones you don’t own) spot you. Before the rest of the world catches up.

You ease her off your cock, she whines, her eyes struggling open. “Take me home,” she mumbles, still not fully coherent.

“Already am, baby,” you reply, gently untangling her body from yours.

With a bit of effort, you manage to get her into an almost presentable state—straightening her skirt, buttoning her shirt, dabbing the cum that’s pooled between her thighs. She watches you as you do it, through a hazy gaze, still recovering from being fucked into oblivion.

It’s an act. Partly at least. A way to save face—pretend that it’s only the exhaustion, that she doesn’t really need you, doesn’t really want to be taken care of like this. Doesn’t want to nuzzle her head into your shoulder, or hug you tight, or have you kiss her on the forehead and tell her that you’ve got her.

Tomorrow she’ll yell at you for it, probably call you an overbearing asshole for treating her like a delicate flower. Make fun of you for going soft, for totally falling under her spell.

(And sometime even later, in a moment when she’s all quiet and feeling vulnerable, right after you’ve fucked each other and hated each other and ended up holding each other for the millionth time, Wonyoung will say:

“You’re the only one who can keep up with me.”

You’ll know what she means right away; you’ll kiss her again and you’ll answer:

“I know.”)

Because despite the fact that when she wanted to be (and it was often), Jang Wonyoung could be a real fucking bitch, you’re also kind of in love with her.

And, if you were to ask her, she’d probably the same about you.