#if I wasn’t so tired I would be vibrating

[yourassimcomingforit]

I’m being so normal over FNAF I swear

[riboism]

prettiest virgin

》 pairing: dilf! j.yh x fem babysitter! reader

》 wc: 7.8k

》 plot: every night this summer, you fantasized about your boss, Mr. Jeong. babysitting his adorable daughter all summer had turned your small crush on the young, single dad into a lust-filled infatuation. after an awkward encounter that left you both humiliated, you did your best to keep your distance at his daughter’s birthday party. that is, until fate trapped you in a bathroom with him while the party carried on outside.

》 content: oh boy, let's see, age gap, aged up yunho, virgin reader, reader lowkey down bad and porn-obsessed, bathroom sex, mirror sex, panties stay on!! grinding, cowgirl stand and carry, yunho basically using you like a fleshlight, use of sir and good girl, filthy dirty talk, cum eating, cum facial, multiple orgasms, reader obsessed with his cum lol, thigh fucking, sucking his dick while he watches porn??? MONSTER CAWK YUNHO

》 playlist: prettiest virgin- agar agar, candy- doja cat, I fucking lust you- d'african, taste so good- sabrina claudio, less of you- omar apollo, real life- the marias

You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this again, but here you were, laying in bed with a vibrator cupped to your clit, eyes glued to your phone screen as you tapped on the first video in the big dick category. It took a while for the vibrator to buzz you the right way, but once you found your sweet spot, your head sank lower into your pillow and you had to bite your lip to keep any sounds from slipping out of your mouth. This was the fifth night in a row that you jerked off, and honestly, you were exhausted; Tired of waking up late because of your little late-night endeavors, tired of feeling gross each time your wetness leaked out and stained your panties during the day, and most of all, tired of being a virgin. 

The video you were watching had your favorite pornstar in it. The guy himself wasn’t at all your type, but his cock was pretty. And big. It’s weird to admit, but this is how you imagined Mr. Jeong’s cock looked like. You had been babysitting Mr. Jeong’s six-year-old daughter for the summer while school was out. She was an angel. Hana reminded you a lot of Bubbles from the PowerPuff Girls cartoon, with her sweet little voice and sensitive nature. You loved spending time with her. 

Yes, throughout the summer, you had developed a crush on Hana’s Dad. How could you not? He was everything a man ought to be— tall, handsome, and kind. His being a good father was just a plus in your eyes. He worked from home, so you’d see him occasionally throughout the day. During his break, he’d come downstairs from his home office to color with Hana for a few minutes. During lunch, you’d sit with them on the patio, watching with heart eyes as he wiped ketchup off of her little mouth. 

Lately, your infatuation has become all-consuming, and you resorted to buying a vibrator from Amazon to help ease your frustrations. And that’s when this little habit of yours began. It felt odd, at first. You didn’t want to be the type of person who watches porn every night for hours, imagining your boss doing all these things to you. It just sort of happened. And instead of easing your frustrations, it made them worse. 

You hated being a virgin. Vibrators weren’t enough. You, for lack of a better term, needed to be dicked down. Preferably by Mr. Jeong, but that would only happen in your wildest dreams. It wasn’t like he made it easy for you. Yesterday for example, when you were preparing Hana’s PB&J, Mr. Jeong reached over your head to grab a mug from the cupboard above you. “Behind you,” he alerted, his fingers grazing over your waist as he pulled his coffee mug out. You stood frozen, the place where he touched you burning hot on your skin. 

Every time he touches you, whether it’s the accidental brush of his fingers when he hands you your check or the deliberate weight of his hand on your shoulder as he thanks you at the end of the day, it only makes you crave him more and more.

The video you were watching had an obvious size kink going on. The male pornstar was huge, and he was able to pick up his petite partner and fuck into her with ease. Your thighs clenched thinking about Mr. Jeong picking you up like that and pumping you up and down his length, stuffing just the tip of his big cock into you because that’s all that could fit. Your core tightened, and your orgasm was imminent, until…

It died. Your vibrator died. 

“Oh, fuck off!” You cursed, slamming your head back into your pillow. Stupid cheap fucking vibrator. Here’s to another night of being a lonely, twenty-something virgin, going to bed unsatisfied and unwanted. You sighed, exasperated.

Mr. Jeong was older. You didn’t know much about his wife. It was a sensitive topic for him. And Hana was too young to remember her final moments. He couldn’t possibly want anything to do with you, and instead, you filled your head with unrealistic fantasies to keep yourself up at night and made yourself cum to them. Maybe you wouldn’t be so miserable if you were around more boys your age. 

Too tired to continue with your fingers, you shifted to your side and tried to make yourself comfortable. It was 4 in the morning now, which meant you’d only get about 3 hours tonight. Just great, you thought to yourself, waiting for the exhaustion to finally lull you to sleep. 

—

You were rather sluggish today, struggling to keep your eyes open as you drove to Mr. Jeong’s house. The cold brew you picked up before heading over there wasn’t much help. Instead, it just made you even more tired. I need to stop jerking off before bed, you told yourself. Luckily, it was Friday, which meant you had enough time to catch up on the lost hours of sleep this weekend. 

You sighed as you measured out the detergent to wash Hana’s favorite tutu, the warm and fuzzy smell of fabric softener reminding you of your blanket at home, making you want to sleep even more. Hana got upset this morning before you dropped her off to ballet practice when some syrup from her drive-thru pancakes dripped onto her tutu. To quiet her tantrum, you promised her you’d go back home to wash it so it's nice and clean for her to wear when she comes back, and that you’d also bring her second favorite tutu for practice— a purplish-blue one with pink glitter dusted around it. It didn’t feel right just washing one piece of clothing, so you decided to go upstairs and quickly grab the dirty clothes from Hana and Mr. Jeong’s hampers. 

You yawned as you made your way up the stairs, stopping by Hana’s room first. Her room was, as always, a chaotic mess—Barbie dolls and crayons scattered across the floor in colorful disarray, old juice boxes, and snack bags left forgotten on the desk. No matter how many times you tried to teach her the importance of cleaning up after herself, the lesson never seemed to stick. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed the clothes from her hamper and stuffed them into the laundry basket.

Leaving her room, you headed toward Mr. Jeong’s, but froze mid-step as a strange, muffled sound reached your ears from his office. At first, you assumed he was in a meeting, but as you drew closer, the noises grew more alarming—strained and uneven, almost as if he were in pain or… crying?

You gently set the laundry basket down on the floor, carefully tiptoeing toward the door. Pressing your ear against the cold, wooden surface, you strained to make sense of the muffled noises coming from inside. A sharp hiss followed by a low, frustrated “fuck” caught you off guard, making your breath hitch.

Startled, you raised a hand and knocked lightly on the door. “Mr. Jeong?” you called softly. No answer. Concern gnawed at you, and without thinking, you turned the knob. The door creaked as it inched open, the sound slicing through the stillness.

“Mr. Jeong, is everything—” you started, stepping inside.

Mr. Jeong swiveled in his chair, his face frozen in a mask of shock and embarrassment. The two of you stood locked in place as if time itself had come to a standstill. The only sounds in the room were the filthy, lewd moans of a woman coming from his computer. Your gaze dropped instinctively, trailing down his frame until your eyes caught on something in his lower half— his long slender fingers gripping tightly onto his erect cock. 

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his voice sharp with panic as he scrambled to pull his pants up, hastily stuffing himself back into his waistband. His movements were frantic, his face flushed a deep crimson. “I-I thought you were at the ballet school!”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, the heat rising so quickly you felt your face must be as red as his. “I-I was,” you stammered, your words tumbling out awkwardly as you tried to steady your voice. “But… Hana’s tutu got dirty, and I… I came back to grab another one…”

The porn video continued playing in the background, the sounds of the ridiculously wet blowjob making the awkwardness even more unbearable.

Mr. Jeong, finally snapping out of his daze, spun back to his computer and fumbled to exit the site, the click of the mouse unnervingly loud in the heavy silence. He turned back to you, his mouth opening as if to say something, but no words came. His expression was a mixture of shame and desperation, his face still a deep shade of red.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted out, your voice breathless and shaky as you struggled to compose yourself. The urge to flee was overwhelming. “I-I should get back to Hana. So sorry again!”

Without waiting for a response, you spun on your heel and hurried out of the room, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to process what had just happened.

—

You had worried earlier about how you’d make it through the day, feeling so drained and sluggish, but the shock from what happened had jolted you awake like a surge of electricity. Now, a different concern gnawed at you—whether you’d be able to sleep at all tonight. Embarrassment burned through you, and you were sure poor Mr. Jeong wanted to disappear off the face of the Earth after that moment.

Yet, despite yourself, your mind kept racing, replaying the image of his cock. It was so big. It was prettier than the pornstar’s you watch every night. It looked so firm in his hands, the tip flushed pink just like his cheeks. You wondered how it would feel between your legs. Would you even be able to take it? You had dildos in the past, but nothing more than the size of your palm.

“Cash or card?” Hana chirped, her cheerful voice snapping you out of the inappropriate thoughts swirling in your head about her dad.

“Hmm?” you mumbled, blinking down at her as she sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor. The living room was a mess, scattered with the colorful pieces of her cashier playset. She pointed at the small plastic credit card in your hand, her expression expectant.

“Oh, uh… I guess card?” you replied, handing it over. You watched as she swiped it through the toy terminal, her little hand expertly mimicking the action.

“Boo beep!” she said with a grin, the sound effects spot-on, before handing you back the card along with a tiny plastic milk carton. “Here you go!”

You couldn’t help but smile, her playful innocence pulling you further from your earlier embarrassment. “Thanks, Hana. Can I have a bag, please?”

“That’s fifty cents extra.” 

“Little haggler, aren’t you?” You teased. 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs, pulling Hana’s attention away from the transaction. “Daddy!” she exclaimed joyfully, rushing toward Mr. Jeong and wrapping her tiny arms around his legs in a tight hug.

“Hey, peanut,” he greeted with a warm smile, scooping her up and planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Daddy, I did a pirouette today at practice! Wanna see?”

As Hana spun around, tripping over her own feet a couple of times, you gathered your things and stuffed them into your bag. You kept your eyes down, moving toward the door with a quiet sigh of relief. For once, you were thankful it wasn’t payday; no need to linger any longer, no forced small talk with Mr. Jeong. He seemed just as relieved as he tried his best to avoid you altogether. 

“See you next week, kiddo,” you said, ruffling Hana’s soft hair before heading for the door.

“Wait, Daddy! Can Y/N come to my birthday party tomorrow?”

Mr. Jeong’s smile faltered, replaced by an uncomfortable glance in your direction. “Oh, um, well… why don’t you ask her, sweetie?” he said, quickly deflecting the question back to you.

Hana ran up to you, pressing her small body into your legs and looking up at you with those wide, pleading eyes. “Y/N, can you please please please come to my birthday party? There’s gonna be ice cream cake!”

The urge to say no was strong. You could sense Mr. Jeong’s discomfort, and honestly, you were looking forward to a quiet weekend away from him. But her hopeful gaze, the way her lips stuck out in a small, almost irresistible pout… it was too much to deny.

“Oh, well… I think I have to go somewhere this weekend and…” you started, but then her lower lip began to tremble, and you hated seeing her upset.

You let out a soft sigh, the words slipping out despite yourself. “I, uh, I guess I can come for a little bit.”

“Yay!” Hana cheered, her excitement spilling over as she jumped up and down. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You exchanged a quiet good night with Mr. Jeong, the awkwardness lingering between you both, before disappearing into the warm summer night. The air was heavy as you made your way to your car, but your mind was racing.

As you sat behind the wheel, you cursed yourself under your breath. You should’ve held your ground, should’ve said no when you had the chance. But now… now you are going to a party with Mr. Jeong. How were you supposed to handle that? How were you supposed to navigate a whole afternoon, trapped in the same space with him, when the last thing you wanted was to face him after walking in on him jerking off earlier?

You huffed as you put your keys in the ignition. This was going to be a long weekend. 

—

The next day came quickly, too quickly, and you dreaded the whole affair as you pulled up on the driveway. You showed up about thirty minutes later than the time on the invitation, hoping to blend into the chaos without much fanfare. Sure enough, no one seemed to notice.

The house was buzzing with activity. Little kids, probably Hana’s classmates and friends from ballet, darted around like wild animals, screaming and leaving a trail of toys and crumbs in their wake. You weaved through the commotion, making your way to the table piled high with brightly wrapped presents.

You set down your gift; a doll set Hana had been dreaming about for weeks. Suddenly, you felt a small squeeze at your leg. Looking down, you saw Hana beaming up at you, her arms wrapped around you in a tight hug.

“You came!” she squealed, bouncing with excitement.

“Of course I did. Happy birthday!” you said, smiling as you ruffled her hair.

“Come meet my friends!” she insisted, grabbing your hand before you could protest.

Hana dragged you into the backyard, where her friends were splashing in the pool, their parents sitting nearby and watching them like hawks. Hana proudly introduced you to two of her closest friends—“important friends,” as she whispered with a serious nod that made you chuckle.

As you chatted with Hana’s friends, you felt a familiar pull in the corner of your eye. Mr. Jeong stood near the grill, just within your peripheral vision. The moment you glanced in his direction, your heart gave a sharp tug. He was watching you.

Your breath caught, but just before you could process it, you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the childlike conversation in front of you. As you nodded along, a thought crept in—was he still looking at you? The possibility made your skin prickle, a slow heat creeping up your neck, your pulse growing erratic. You fought the urge to glance his way again, but curiosity got the better of you. You glanced up again, a quick and casual move, but this time, he wasn’t looking anymore. He had already turned his attention to another parent, nodding along to whatever they were saying, sipping on his ice cold beer. Still, your skin tingled, like his gaze hadn’t fully left you.

The mix of the screaming children, the sun beating down on you, and the overwhelming energy of the party soon had you retreating. With a quick excuse, you headed for the shaded table, grabbing a Coca-Cola and savoring the brief moment of quiet.

You chugged the fizzy drink, the burn in your throat oddly satisfying as it momentarily cooled you off. As you set the half-empty can down, your ears caught snippets of a hushed conversation from the table next to you. Two women, likely mothers of Hana’s friends, were whispering, and one word made you tune in: Yunho.

“His wife passed away a few years ago, back when Hana was just learning to walk. Poor guy, raising her all on his own.”

“God, but he’s so cute, though,” the other one said, not bothering to lower her voice.

“I know, right? If I didn’t have Leo, I’d totally take him out for a spin.” They dissolved into giggles, clearly enjoying their little moment until their eyes flicked toward you.

You froze, caught mid-sip from your drink. The sudden attention made your cheeks warm as they realized you’d overheard them. One of the women quickly cleared her throat, trying to cover the awkwardness.

“So, which one’s yours?” she asked, her tone friendly, though her shoulders were tense—probably hoping you hadn’t heard the part where she casually considered sleeping with Mr. Jeong.

“Oh, none of them,” you replied, forcing a polite smile. “I’m Hana’s babysitter.”

You took another sip of your soda, trying to ignore the way the two women were looking at you. It was obvious they had some kind of assumption about you and Mr. Jeong, and it made your skin prickle with discomfort.

“Oh, I didn’t know Mr. Jeong had a babysitter,” the long-haired woman said, glancing at her friend with a knowing look.

You shifted under their stares, suddenly feeling like you were being sized up. They both looked down at your exposed legs, your flowy skirt just barely covering your knees. You knew what they were thinking. Their curiosity wasn’t just innocent small talk. It felt more like they were trying to figure out if you were a threat. A young, single dad and his younger, pretty babysitter? Sounded like an overdone porn plot. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, your fingers anxiously slipped against your soda can, sending the cold, fizzy liquid spilling down the front of your shirt.

“Oh, shit—” You gasped, stepping back as the sticky sweetness seeped into the fabric.

The two women let out little gasps, covering their mouths, but neither of them moved to help.

“Ugh,” you muttered, shaking your hands off. “Excuse me.”

Quickly, you turned and made your way inside, walking past clusters of parents and kids until you reached the staircase. Your face was burning with frustration. This whole weekend was just one embarrassment after another. Everything had felt weird since yesterday. Mr. Jeong had been acting strange, you’d been acting strange, and now you had people assuming things about you that weren’t even true.

You climbed the stairs, the noise of the party fading as you finally reached the bathroom. With a sigh, you pushed the door open and slipped inside, shutting the door behind you.

The cold air from the vent hit your damp shirt, making the fabric cling to your skin uncomfortably. Grimacing, you pulled it over your head and tossed it onto the sink. You turned on the faucet, grabbing a towel to try and clean it before the stickiness set in.

As you rubbed at the stain, you caught your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were still flushed, your hair slightly messy from the heat outside. You looked… flustered. Not just from the soda incident, but from everything. From him. From the way he was staring at you, from the way you’d been thinking about him all day, despite knowing you shouldn’t. It was no surprise that you couldn’t sleep the night before, your hands stuffed inside your panties all night, forcing yourself to cum over and over as you thought about Mr. Jeong pumping his big hard cock after a long day. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of categories he liked. MILF? Hentai? Gangbang? Did he have a favorite pornstar? You desperately wanted to know what he liked, how he liked it, his greatest desires. But what was the use? You were only driving yourself mad with these little fantasies. 

You let out a deep breath, gripping the edge of the sink. Get it together.

Before you could pull yourself back to reality, you were startled by a sudden commotion outside of your door. And before you could even react, the door knob turned and the door creaked open.

Your heart jumped into your throat as Mr. Jeong stepped inside, his eyes focused on something behind him, mid-sentence. “I’ll be right there, just gotta take a leak—”

He stopped. Completely frozen.

His eyes landed on your bare skin, the lacy edge of your bra, the way the damp fabric of your shirt sat crumpled in the sink.

For a second, neither of you moved.

Then, as if snapping out of it, his eyes shot up to yours, and his face turned to that shade of red you’d seen before. “Shit” He spun around so fast he nearly slammed into the wall, and shut the door in front of him.

Your face burned with mortification. You grabbed your shirt, holding it up against your chest even though it was still wet. “What are you doing?” you whisper-yelled, trying to sound indignant, but your voice came out weaker than you wanted.

He ran a hand through his hair, his head still facing the door. “It wasn’t locked! And my friend is outside and—” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll go.”

Silence lingered between you. You should’ve told him to hurry up and leave. Should’ve thrown something at him, and scolded him for barging in like that.

But you didn’t.

Instead, your pulse pounded in your ears as you watched the way his hands clenched at his sides, the way the muscle in the side of his jaw tensed. He was still standing there, motionless and breathing a little too hard, like he was trying really, really hard to control himself.

“…Are you gonna go?” you asked, your voice softer now.

Mr. Jeong hesitated, his hand lying still on the doorknob. He let out a shaky breath. “My friend is still out in the hall, maybe, I don’t know, I don’t want him to come in after me and see you. I’m just gonna give it another minute, just to be safe.” He whispered. 

The bathroom felt impossibly small like the walls had closed in on you. The silence stretched, almost suffocating, broken only by the soft inhales through his nose and the distant chatter from the party downstairs. The faint drip of the faucet filled the space between you, but neither of you moved, let alone spoke.

It had only been a few seconds—maybe ten, maybe twenty—but it felt like minutes, like an eternity of you two just standing there, backs turned, bodies tense.

You both strained your ears, trying to pick up any signs of his friend lingering outside, but the house was too noisy, too alive with the sound of kids playing and parents chatting. There was no way to tell.

Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he turned his head just enough to glance at you over his shoulder. His eyes lowered down to your body, just for a second, before he snapped his head forward again, almost too quickly, like he’d been caught looking.

His throat bobbed. “I think he might be gone,” he murmured. “I don’t hear anything.”

You nodded behind him, staying in place.

He exhaled deeply, his shoulders finally relaxing. “I’m really sorry,” he said, sounding defeated.

“It’s not your fault,” you replied, gripping your damp shirt tighter against your chest. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I should’ve locked the door.”

“Right. Um… thanks,” he said. Then, after a pause, he added, “I also meant about yesterday. I feel so embarrassed. I hope that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable about working for me. Hana really likes you.”

The mention of yesterday sent a small twist through your stomach. You swallowed. “I’m sorry for that too. I shouldn’t have walked in on you like that.”

He let out a short, breathy chuckle. “I guess we’re both just bad at locking doors. Makes us even.”

A small, nervous laugh slipped out of you, easing some of the tension in the room.

“And you don’t have to be embarrassed. Everyone does it—it’s normal,” you said, trying to reassure him, though you weren’t entirely sure why. Maybe to ease his discomfort. Maybe to ease your own.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Oh yeah?” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “You jerk off in front of your babysitter too?”

The teasing tone in his voice made your cheeks warm up. But it was the way he turned then, fully facing you, locking his deep brown eyes onto yours, that made the air shift; buzzing with something neither of you acknowledged but both of you felt.

His smirk faded as quickly as it had come as if he suddenly realized how inappropriate his words were. But he didn’t apologize this time. And more importantly—he didn’t leave.

Your stomach twisted into knots again, breath growing heavier, shallower. Fuck. He was so hot. His sharp jawline, so strong and well-defined, tensed ever so slightly. His broad shoulders, so effortlessly commanding, made you feel smaller in the best way. And those eyes—deep, warm brown, always soft when he looked at Hana—weren’t so soft now. They were sharp, locked onto you with an intensity that made your pulse race. Even the faint crinkles near his eyes, the ones that usually appeared when he smiled, seemed more pronounced at this moment, only adding to how devastatingly beautiful he was.

You should have said something. You should have slipped on your cola-stained t-shirt and left the bathroom. But instead, you stood there, heart hammering in your chest, letting the weight of his gaze consume you. You couldn’t leave him. Not yet. 

And then, without a second thought, you let your damp t-shirt slip from your fingers, the fabric pooling at your feet. 

Mr. Jeong's gaze dropped to your cleavage, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His initial serious expression made your heart flutter with uncertainty. Have you crossed a line? But then, his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and when his eyes met yours again, they held a spark that made your heart skip a beat. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice a mixture of sternness and intrigue.

“I just want to help…” you replied softly, stepping closer with careful slowness. Each step brought you nearer until you were close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. Your eyes locked onto his, filled with intent and a hint of mischief.

With a soft but bold touch, you reached out to cup his clothed cock, feeling its firmness beneath your palm. You applied a teasing pressure, grinding your hand against him. The sudden contact made him draw in a sharp breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he absorbed the sensation. “You didn’t get to cum last time, did you?” you murmured, your voice a sultry whisper that broke the tense silence between you.

His eyes opened slowly, a mix of desire and astonishment etched on his features. The initial hesitation seemed to melt away, replaced by a hunger that mirrored your own. He bit his bottom lip, trying to stop a moan from escaping. You could feel him hardening in your hand, his pant seam threatening to burst open. 

As if all his restraint had snapped, he pressed one hand against the back of your head, fingers burrowing into your hair, while the other slid just under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. He slammed his lips onto yours, finally giving in to the wild desire that had been simmering between you all day. Your lips moved messily while he grinded himself against your hand.  “Fuck, you’re fucking crazy,” he said breathlessly into your lips, “And no, I didn’t, but I did think about creaming on your face before bed last night.”  

You could already feel a wetness pooling between your legs, his words being the boost you so desperately needed to move forward. You kept kissing him hungrily while undoing his fly, his half-hard cock springing out in anticipation. You took him into your hand, your fingers barely meeting as you gripped around him, stroking him gently while he cursed into your mouth. 

Mr. Jeong pulled away and spun you around in one swift move, pressing your body against his chest and trapping you in his embrace. Your hand remained obedient and eager, pumping his cock as his big hands roamed your body. One hand squeezed your breast, while the other slipped underneath your skirt. “Wore this skimpy little thing on purpose, didn’t you?” His words cascaded down your neck, “Little slut.” 

You moaned softly as his fingers rubbed against your clothed clit, your sticky wet juices leaking through the fabric. Mr. Jeong gathered the front of your panties together and pulled with a force that made you gasp. The fabric wedged against your throbbing pussy, leaving you whimpering as you bucked your hips against the friction. 

“Your so fucking wet, Y/N…” He teased, his lips pressed against your ears, sending a rush of butterflies in your stomach. “You liked what you saw yesterday, didn’t you? Couldn’t stop thinking about it, could you? Bet you came in on purpose, hmm? Heard what I was doing and wanted to help me cum?” 

A deep, throaty moan escaped your lips. You loved the way he was talking to you, the way he reduced you to a horndog little pervert, and deep down, you knew it was true. You were addicted to the thrill of it all. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “I wanna be your good girl, your slut. Wanna help you cum sir, please. Want your hot load on me. Please, sir, I need it.” Your words were an invitation, a desperate plea for the intense pleasure you’ve craved for so long, and you knew he couldn't resist.

Mr. Jeong shifted from behind you and you felt the warmth of his cock, a tantalizing tap against your cunt, which forced an excited yelp from your lips. His hand covered your mouth, a gentle yet firm reminder to keep quiet. “Don’t want anyone hearing us, do we baby?” 

His cock was sandwiched between your sopping-wet folds and the tight fabric of your panties. The feeling was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but grind your hot, eager pussy over his length. Your back rested against his chest, and you could feel his heart pounding in sync with your racing pulse. The fabric of your panties provided delicious friction, and you moaned softly into his hand, the sound muffled but still carrying the weight of your satisfaction. 

You pressed your thighs together, squeezing his cock as you rode him, the sensation being too much for the both of you. “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum too soon,” He panted, his head falling forward and burying into your shoulder. 

You grew restless, your grinding becoming faster and wild, the sounds of your quiet and desperate begging like music to his ears. “Please, sir, cum in my panties, I’ll be so good,” You pleaded with tears of pleasure streaking down your cheeks. The thought of walking around in his cum-soaked panties gave you a thrill. You could feel your clit pulsing as you rutted against his shaft, the sheer bliss of it beyond anything you’d ever experienced. “I’m gonna cum, sir, please…oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” You cried out, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

As your orgasm subsided, his cock still pressed against your swollen clit. You felt a numbness, a euphoric high that left you floating, your wetness a warm, inviting contrast to his hot, throbbing length. Shivers ran down your spine, and you felt like you were hovering, your consciousness detached from your body. 

Mr. Jeong lifted you in his strong arms, carrying you like fragile glass. He brought you to the bathroom mirror, and as he held you up, you couldn't help but be amazed at the sight of his length against your body. It was almost surreal, the difference in scale, and you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. He snaked a hand around your waist, pulling your panties to the side, exposing your wet, glistening cunt to the cool air. You shivered, feeling a rush of vulnerability. He slapped his cock against your wet cunt, grinning, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. 

“What are you doing, sir?” you asked shyly, your voice soft and hesitant. You had never experienced this position before, and the sight of your legs spread wide and your cunt so open and exposed made you nervous. Mr. Jeong's hands grasped under your thighs, supporting your weight, and you could feel his strength and his muscles bulging as he held you up. “I wanna see this little pussy take my big cock,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Wanna watch it stretch and take me deep.” 

You gulped, your heart racing in your chest. You had never taken something this big before, and Mr. Jeong was indeed impressive. The thought of being stretched, of accommodating to his size, both excited and intimidated you. You wanted to tell him about your virginity, but the words caught in your throat. You didn't want to turn him off, and so you remained silent, your mind racing with a mix of emotions.

Noticing your worried glance reflected in the mirror, Mr. Jeong's eyes narrowed, a hint of disappointment creasing his features. “What's wrong, baby? You wanna stop?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. 

“No,” you said quietly before reaching down to grasp his cock. With a firm grip, you began to work him up and down, the weight of his hard length in your hands making your pussy twitch. You pushed his cock against your entrance, the head pressing against your tight, virgin opening. “Please, sir,” you begged, your voice pathetically dry. “I want your cock inside of me. I want to feel you stretching me, filling me up. Wanna be good for you.”

The thought of giving up your virginity to him was both scary and exhilarating. You wanted to be his, to belong to him in the most intimate way possible. You pumped him desperately, your core aching to have him stuffed deep inside you. 

The head of his cock pressed against your tight opening, and you could feel the stretch, the burning sensation of being filled for the very first time. A sob escaped your lips as Mr. Jeong slowly lowered you over his cock, the mirror reflecting it all. You watched in awe as his hot, throbbing rod disappeared inside your body, the sight of it stretching you, filling you, almost too much to bear.

“Fuck, you're so tight,” he grunted, his eyes wide with a mix of pleasure and awe. The sensation of being filled by his impressive size was intense, and you were intoxicated by a mixture of pain and bliss, the feeling making your mind numb. He was incredibly gentle at first, pushing just the tip of his cock into your walls, treating you with the utmost care. But as tension built within him, his eyes grew darker, a fierce lust taking over. With a sudden, primal urge, he began working you over his cock, pulling you up and down, your tight pussy gripping his length. You felt incredible to him, like a fleshlight come to life, and even he struggled to mask his moans as your body adjusted to his size. 

The pain was fleeting, replaced by a deep, satisfying pleasure. “Oh god, sir” you whispered, your voice strained. “It feels so good. So full... Please, don't stop.” Your sweet pleas made his ears buzz, his stomach fluttering from just how sweetly you begged for more of him. 

“God, you’re doing so good for me,” He praised, almost giddy with how effortlessly you fit him. His eyes never left the mirror, his thick bulge disappearing into your tight, wet pussy, a sight too mesmerizing to look away from.  “Such a good girl…look so pretty on my cock” He huffed, “My little cumslut.” 

His words sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you felt your pussy clench around him in response. You wanted him to keep talking dirty to you, to fill your ears with every filthy word and fantasy he had while pounding into you. 

Mr. Jeong grew tired, and he placed you back on the ground, pushing your body down against the sink, the cold marble against your bare stomach sending a chill down your spine. He lifted your skirt, rubbing himself against your puffy pussy lips, the overstimulation driving you wild. You felt his cock, thick and hard, lining up with your hole, and you knew what was coming. Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp as he pushed into you in one swift, powerful motion, filling you up completely. He stilled his hips, giving your pussy a chance to adjust to his size, to wrap itself around him, to pulsate and invite him deeper. You were stuffed, every inch of your pussy filled with his cock, his balls swinging and slapping against your raw skin with each thrust.

With each snap of his hips, you cursed under your breath, your fingers gripping tightly to the sink as if it were your only anchor in this storm. "S-so big!" you yelped, your voice filled with a mix of awe and fear. Your body was now completely at the mercy of Mr. Jeong, his powerful strokes sending waves of pleasure and pain through your sensitive pussy.

As he continued to thrust into you, he brought one hand up, pressing his fingers against your mouth, effectively silencing your moans. "Gotta do something about that mouth, baby," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. His fingers, still wet with your juices from before, found their way into your mouth, and you gladly accepted them, your lips closing around his digits. You moaned deeply, your tongue wrapping around his fingers, tasting yourself on them. You lost yourself in his touch, his hard cock massaging your gummy walls, his fingers probing and exploring your warm mouth, his lips licking and sucking your ear lobe as he whispered filth to you, bringing you to the brink of another orgasm.

As your eyes met your reflection in the mirror, you were struck by a sense of unfamiliarity. Your makeup was smudged and running, the black mascara staining your tears and streaking down your cheeks. Your hair was frizzy and chaotic, some sweat-drenched strands framing your face and sticking to your warm cheeks. Your lips looked wet and swollen as you gagged around Mr. Jeong’s long fingers, the saliva dripping down your chin. You loved it. You looked like a woman who had been pleasured beyond measure. There was an intoxicating power in seeing yourself like this, a power that made you feel alive and desirable. It reminded you of the pornstar Mr. Jeong was watching yesterday, her fucked-out expression now mirroring your own. 

"Oh god, sir, it's too much!" you moaned, pulling his fingers out from your mouth. "I can't take it! I'm gonna cum again!"

“Fuck, me too,” He grunted as he pulled out of you, feeling the inevitable approach of his own release. Relief washed over you, your body weakening, your walls clenching and spasming around nothing. Mr. Jeong spun you around, placing a hand on the top of your head, pushing you to your knees just as your body swayed with the first waves of your climax. 

As Mr. Jeong jerked himself off with his hand, his eyes never left your face, now a beautiful canvas covered in the ropes of his hot cum. Though still reeling from the intense orgasm he had just given you, you opened your mouth wide, obediently accepting his thick, white cum as it splashed over your tongue. The taste was both bitter and sour, but you loved it, a unique flavor that was all his.

You licked your lips, moaning softly as you savored his taste. You kissed his tender tip, running your tongue over his slit, relishing the feeling of his cum leaking out, warm and sticky.

With a playful smile, Mr. Jeong rubbed his tip against your lips, leaving a trail of cum as he did so. "Shit, baby, you look so pretty with my cum on your face," he said, his voice shaky with post-orgasmic delight. "My sweet little cumslut."

Taking him into your mouth once more, you swirled your tongue around his sensitive head, moaning from the taste and texture of his cum. You pulled off with a plopping sound, a satisfied smile on your face. "Taste so good, sir," you whispered, your voice filled with admiration and gratitude. "Thank you for letting me taste your cum.”

Mr. Jeong, clearly pleased with your gratitude, ran his fingers through your hair affectionately, gently tucking a strand behind your ear. Suddenly, there was a hard knock on the door, snapping you both out of your little daze. 

“Yo, Yunho,” a voice called from the door. “Are you taking a shit? How much longer are you gonna be? Hana’s ready to cut the cake.”

Mr. Jeong flinched, his hands moving fast as he pulled his bottoms up, stuffing himself back inside like a guilty teenager caught red-handed. “Uh, just a minute! I’ll be right out!” he called back, voice strained.

The man sighed. “Alright, well, hurry up. The cake’s melting out here.”

You both snapped into action, scrambling to fix your clothes and smooth your hair. The rush of reality crashing back down made your heart pound even harder than before. Just as you were ready to bolt, Yunho suddenly froze, his expression shifting once he realized the mess he left on your face was still dripping down your cheeks. 

Then, without a word, he grabbed a few squares of toilet paper and gently wiped the sticky white jelly from your flushed face. “Sorry,” he murmured, his fingers barely grazing your skin, his eyes burning with the same embarrassed, heated look from before.

Once you were clean, he lingered for a second too long, standing so close you could feel his breath on your lips. He parted his mouth as if to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Instead, his fingers anxiously tapped against his thigh, a nervous habit you had never noticed before.

“You should go first,” you said quickly, sensing the weight of the moment. “I’ll come down after.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, then he nodded. “Thanks,” he muttered, stuffing his shirt back into his waistband before slipping out the door with hurried, uneven steps.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and sank onto the toilet seat. The room still smelled faintly of him, and it felt unreal how fast the energy had shifted. Had he just been hit with regret? Was he now scrambling to shove this whole thing into a locked box in his mind? Now no longer in the heat of the moment, did he think what you two did was wrong? Were you going to get fired? 

For the rest of the party, Mr. Jeong successfully avoided you. He busied himself slicing tiny squares of cake for the kids, nodding along to endless small talk with the other parents as if nothing had happened.

You took the hint, feeling a slight shame in your chest.

Slipping out early, you gave Hana a tight hug before heading back to your car. The second you settled into your seat, your phone buzzed in your pocket. With a sigh, you pulled it out, expecting something mundane.

But when you read the message, you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

Jeong Yunho: See you Monday ;)

—

Your sleep schedule had indeed improved, and you found yourself no longer relying on toys to satisfy your desires. The structure and routine of your new life, with Hana and Mr. Jeong, had brought a sense of balance and fulfillment. You enjoyed the daily interactions with Hana, whether it was playing frisbee in the backyard or teaching her simple math in her room. Your bond with her grew stronger each day, and you found great joy in being a positive influence in her life.

However, it was the Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays that held a special place in your heart. These were the days when you dropped Hana off at her ballet recitals, and while she was practicing her pliés and pirouettes, you would return to their home to tend to your other job.

Your knees were growing sore from scraping against the carpet under Yunho’s desktop table. Sounds of girls moaning emanated from his monitor. Though you were curious about what he was watching, you knew it was none of your business. Instead, you focused on the task at hand and wrapped your warm mouth over his throbbing cock, nestling yourself between his legs from under his desk. The width of his bulge filled your throat, and you gagged lightly, a sign of your complete submission to him.

Yunho, lost in the porno he was watching, seemed momentarily unaware of your presence. He was engrossed in the images on his screen, his eyes droopy and his breathing heavy. Your mouth bobbed up and down, your lips wrapping tightly around his shaft, and you could feel his excitement building. The sound of his moans mixed with the pornographic sounds on his computer made you clench around nothing, forcing you to slip your hand past your waistband. 

As you continued to suck him, you could feel his hands running through your hair, gently guiding your movements. You massaged his warm balls with your free hand, feeling his cum bubbling up in his sack, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he released his load into your waiting mouth.

"That's it, baby," Yunho whispered, his voice soft yet dominant. “Keep that pretty mouth on me. So good…so, so good for me.”

I would greatly appreciate reblogs with comments and replies. please consider leaving feedback if you enjoyed this x.

[sweetinsaniiity]

can you write something for soft turned hard dom san? i don't have a full idea yet but he asks reader if he'll let her do whatever he wants to her and when she responds yes he says aww thank you baby and then proceeds to ruin her

I'm very, very picky when fulfilling requests, but this one caught my eye immediately. You should be very proud of yourself, sweetheart.

Plug In, Baby

genre/au: soft!Sannie, he's too soft tbh, very respectful (we love a man who respects boundaries), established relationship, falling in love rating/warning: PG-18+ so MDNI!!! (you know how it is), this is pure smut without any sort of plot or whatnot, really just pure filth with a side of creampie, scratching, degradation, dacryphilia, bruises, biting, dom!San, no protection (do NOT do this!) word count: 8.2K words (genuinely enjoyed writing this)

Today marked three months of being with San and you were getting ready for the special dinner he said he'd take you. You already felt giddy thinking about it as you paced in front of the mirror to check your outfit. You met San through a mutual friend of yours, Wooyoung, and the connection was undeniable. You two formed a relationship within the week, and the first time he held your hand, you didn't even notice. He was so hesitant, so careful.

In fact, he still is. Granted, you two weren't together for long, still learning each other day by day, but sometimes, San was a little too careful for your liking. Like right now.

"My goodness, you scared me," you giggled, savouring the way San's arms wrapped at you from behind.

He smiled tenderly at you, giving you a quick kiss on your temple. You couldn't but frown slightly when the hug didn't last. "You look beautiful, baby," he murmured. "How did I get so lucky?" You hummed, tilting your head when he leaned in, kissing you softly on the lips, that air of hesitancy still there like this was the first time you had kissed. He treated you like fine glass, but that was fine. You heard him yelp behind his throat when you licked his lips open.

"O-Oh, uhm, wow," he pulled away, blushing beet red from his neck all the way up to the tips of his ears.

"What, you didn't like it?" You teased.

His eyes widened comically. "N-No! I mean, I d-did," San stammered.

You laughed out loud at his predicament. Cute, you thought. Every time you smiled at him, he looked away, cheeks pink, like he wasn’t sure how to handle the attention. All San could do was stare at you as your laughter filled the air, smiling as well.

He loved you a lot, though he hasn't said it before. He just gets extremely nervous around you. You might give him a heart attack one day, that's how much he feels about you.

And it wasn't like you didn't know this. San was naturally shy and meek, something you found extremely endearing on him.

"You sure you don't regret being with me yet?" San mumbled, refusing to look at you, pretending to fix his collar as he cleared his throat.

You frowned, confused. "Now, why would you say that?"

San sighed. "Baby, I don't know if you noticed, but you're way out of my league. I'm still surprised to this day when you said you liked me back. I probably had a mini attack."

It was always like this, and so, you reassured your boyfriend once more that he was fine the way he was, that you genuinely liked him for him despite his reservations about himself. You would never get tired of doing it because you were telling the truth.

He made another small, flustered noise, but this time, after a moment of hesitation, he did something that made your heart stutter.

He leaned in—just slightly, just enough for his shoulder to press against yours. And even if he didn’t say anything, you knew what it meant.

“Uhm,” he cleared his throat again. “Can I ask you something?”

“You know you can, Sannie,” you smiled, tilting your head curiously at him.

He opened his mouth, then shut it again, visibly struggling. His nervous energy was practically vibrating off him. You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling widely at how cute your boyfriend was.

You smiled softly. “Hey,” you murmured, lifting your free hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear. He practically melted at the touch, eyes fluttering shut for half a second. “Take your time.”

He nodded quickly, swallowing hard, before finally forcing the words out.

“Do you...wanna do it tonight?”

Oh, God. He was so painfully endearing.

“You really want to?” You asked gently, running your thumbs over the heat of his cheeks.

His breath hitched, and after a long moment of hesitation, he nodded. “Y-Yeah,” he whispered, voice barely there. “Sorry, baby. I just want to make sure. You know I love the way your body feels with mine.”

It was your turn to blush. “Me too. I want everything with you...”

You were pretty sure you were falling slowly for this man, if you haven't yet. You had never met a man who was such a gentleman, someone who respected you and your boundaries but never failed to make you happy. You just hoped you made San happy, too.

Sex with him was what you'd describe as making love. Slow, soft love making. It was filled with gentle touches and passionate, deep, long kisses that always set your insides on fire. San had the body of a Greek god and it always fascinated you that he was just a sweetheart.

Everything about him was soft, and you loved it.

As you both walked in the restaurant towards the entrance, the way he opened the car door for you and the way he offered his arms for you to link with his made your heart flutter. "I'll give you a good time, yeah?" San smiled.

"I believe it," you giggled.

He shook his head at you with a small chuckle, like he couldn't believe you were real to begin with.

He directed his smile at the receptionist ahead, albeit more respectful and polite this time. "Hi," he began, keeping his voice quiet like he didn’t want to impose. "Reservation for Choi San, please?"

True to his words, he took you to a really nice place, a seaside nighttime restaurant. You were a bit surprised, you mentioned in passing a couple of weeks back while all your mutual friends were over that you've never been to one and you would love to experience it at least once in your life.

"Wow," you grinned, leaning on the railing that overlooked the sunset that reflected over the sea. "Sannie, this place is gorgeous."

He leaned towards the railing as well, a small smile plastered on his face as he stared at your face. "Yeah," he said, not looking away. "Gorgeous."

The way he snaked his arms around you as he guided you to your seat was gentle, like he was always second-guessing himself. The way he moved, careful and deliberate, never the type to rush. These were the things that made you want to be with him, you just hoped San understood that.

You gave the waiter a small 'thank you' as they walked away after handing you your dinner. The night went on better than you imagined, not that you doubted it in the first place. Anywhere with San was a guaranteed enjoyment for you, not because of where he would bring you, definitely not because of what he can offer you, but because you wanted to spend time with San.

You couldn't help but stare at him from across the table as he peacefully ate his food. You wanted to shake your head, how could this man think that he was out of your league? He had poise and grace that you didn't have, and he was genuinely the kindest man you've ever been with.

Your cheeks reddened when his eyes fleeted up and met yours. "You're staring, baby," he smirked, not breaking eye contact as he put the fork in his mouth and chewed on his steak slowly.

You bit your lip subconsciously. It doesn't escape San's attention. Something passes in his eyes that you couldn't really read before it goes away. As shy as San can be, sometimes he didn't know how deadly he could act. What makes it worse is that you know that he's not doing it on purpose.

You chuckled, then winked. "Am I not allowed to stare at my boyfriend?"

That seemed to bring him down to Earth and you can physically see his mind short-circuit. Without thinking, you held his delicate hands to press a quick kiss to his knuckles.

You could swear that you could feel the heat radiating off his face. He made a tiny, helpless sound - something between a squeak and a whimper - then hid his face in his sleeve.

“Baby,” San whined, grabbing onto your hand and caressing his thumb over it despite his flustered state. “Y-You can’t just do that.”

“Do you want me to do it again?” You teased, watching his ears turn an even deeper shade of red.

He pouted, and it took you everything not to combust where you were seated, nodding his head slightly before looking around hesitantly. "Here?"

You shrugged, grinning widely at him while you got up from your seat to lean across the table and give San a sweet peck on the tip of the nose. When you sat back down, he blinked owlishly at you as his mouth opened and closed repeatedly. His face was effectively the reddest you've ever seen.

Oh my God, you thought. Did you finally break your boyfriend?

Dinner ended without any hijinks. He got up before you and shyly offered his hand. "Walk with me, precious?" San smiled, his dimples convincing you like you ever even needed it. "The night is young. I wanted to spend more time with you before I take you home."

San and you lived separately. It was too soon to live together for the both of you, but as you walked side by side by the sea shore, maybe you could bring it up to him. You liked him enough to do so.

The moonlight illuminated his facial features as he stared on. San was beautiful, that you couldn't deny, but he wasn't the only shy one. Sometimes, you wish you could just tell him how much he meant to you.

Then, just as you were about to say something, you felt the lightest touch against your hands. When you glanced at San, he still wasn't looking at you, but you couldn't miss the nervousness in his gait.

His head was tilted down, hair falling over his eyes, as if he was bracing himself for rejection before he’d even really tried. Your heart clenched.

Slowly, carefully, you turned your palm outward, offering an unspoken invitation. "Baby," you whispered. "I appreciate you being careful with me since we're both basically new to this relationship, but I'd like it if you can hold my hand whenever you want next time."

His fingers curled around yours, and you smiled, giving his warm hand the smallest squeeze. “Okay,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

A beat of silence. Then, slowly, so slowly, his grip tightened, just a little. His face was still turned away, but you could see the way he pressed his lips together like he was trying to fight back a smile.

God, he was cute.

And somehow, the simple weight of his hand in yours felt more important than anything else in the world.

The drive home was tense, though. At least, on your end. San wanted to have sex with you the moment you stepped inside your house. You pressed your thighs together in an attempt to soothe the burning arousal that crept up your wettened core.

It was definitely an unspoken spark, the anticipation of what you both knew was going to happen later. The tension was delicious, and you couldn't wait.

"Did you want to stay the night?" You asked, trying to break the sparked silence in the car.

He hummed, it was deep and it vibrated down to your core, not responding with words. He side-eyed you once, one hand leaning against the car window, covering his mouth while his other hand held the steering wheel, before he turned back to the road.

It would have been odd behaviour from him if it didn't turn you on.

It didn't really escape your attention at how rigid San sat. You could see the way his chest rose and fell too quickly, his breath uneven. He looked like he was currently struggling to hold back as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down every single time he swallowed.

He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, jaw tense as his eyes flicked to you again. "Did you want me to stay the night?" San exhaled, the sound low, controlled.

Oh?

That was interesting. You turned your head to the side, opting to stare at the window so San couldn't see the pleased expression on your face. He was a lot more turned on than you thought he was. You preened, happy that you had this effect on him.

By the time we pulled into your apartment, he was practically out of breath as he turned off the engine. When you looked at you, you wanted nothing but to jump at him, barely holding yourself back.

You smirked, reaching for his hand, letting your fingers lace through his, slow and deliberate. Teasing him was your favourite thing to do, you loved seeing his reactions. “Everything okay?" You asked innocently.

He nodded quickly. “Y-Yeah,” his voice cracked.

You smiled, tilting your head. "Shall we go inside?"

His lips parted slightly like he was about to talk, his fingers twitched against his thigh like he was debating something. You smirked when he wordlessly got out of the car and started walking inside your apartment, his hand subtly adjusting his pants. Oh, you were going to have fun teasing him.

But you frowned, confused, when San didn't make a move on you like you thought he would when you both walked in. Instead, he stared at you, shifting his weight from foot to foot, before he walked to your room to presumably change his clothes.

"San, wait," you stopped him, your heart beating fast, as you walked towards him slowly.

He freezes in his steps, looking back at you with vulnerable eyes. You stepped closer, using your free hand to cup his cheek, tilting his face.

“We don't have to do anything tonight,” you said softly. “I know you’re nervous. We don’t have to do anything tonight. Just being with you is enough. We have all the time in the world.”

And you meant it. Your heart broke when his eyes shone with sadness. He turned his head to kiss your palms. "I'm sorry, baby. I don't know why I'm like this."

You giggled, opting to pinch his cheeks, much to his chagrin, to break the tension and change the scenario. "Let's watch a movie. You can pick."

His eyes lightened up significantly. If there was something better than the sex you thought would happen tonight, it was cuddles with San. Your fluffy boyfriend was the perfect cuddle material, his arms always felt perfect whenever they would wrap around you.

"Comfy?" he murmured, said arms tightening their hold on you as you both curled up on your bed with the laptop placed in front of you.

Your smiled, eyes still on the screen. "Mhm. You’re warm."

San chuckled, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. "Human heater, at your service."

The movie was good, but the warmth of San’s arms, the way his heartbeat was a steady rhythm, made it all the better. Yeah, you could stay like this forever.

However, you couldn't concentrate on the movie. Occasionally, San would shift, pressing his body against yours, his body heat transferring to you. His head leaned down, and at first, you thought that he was just going to lean on your shoulders.

Imagine your surprise when he pressed a hot kiss to the crook of your neck. He pulled away like nothing happened. You froze, not thinking anything of it. San loved skinship, this was nothing new to him.

But when his fingers started tracing slow, absentminded circles against your bare shoulders, shivers traveled down your spine. The first time, you passed it as a passing thought on his end. The second, you started to doubt it, but by the third, you couldn't help but surrender to his little touches.

You swallowed audibly when his nimble fingers held the thin strap of your top, lifting it slightly before letting go and letting it snap against your skin. You couldn't move, not even bothering to concentrate on the movie. Certainly not bothering to turn around to look at his face. For all you know, he could just be fidgeting like he always did when he was nervous.

It was difficult to even breathe. You held back a squeak when San snaked his arm around your waist, slightly lifting your top up, his fingers barely brushing against your bare skin as if he had all the time in the world to explore you.

You sucked in a breath, but he didn’t stop. His fingertips trailed along the dip of your waist, tracing the curve with agonizing patience. It was your turn to be nervous now. This has never happened before.

"You okay, baby?" San's husky voice asked from behind you. He sounded strained, though you knew that he knew what he was doing.

You swallowed, but before you could answer, his other hand moved, but this time, it landed on your thigh. He squeezed ever so slightly while his thumb brushed slow, hypnotic circles against your waist, slipping a little higher with each pass.

His fingers pinch a part of your skin that you didn't even know was sensitive and you jerked, your thighs subconsciously spreading wider. Your cheeks burned for two reasons - the position was almost lewd, and San's low groan sent wetness pooling down there.

"Tilt your head up, baby," he commanded softly. There was no hesitation on your end. "Hmm. A little bit sideways---good."

A small, breathy moan escapes from your lips when his lips automatically latch on your neck, barely just touching you, but enough for you to feel everything, especially when he nipped your teeth before sucking the sensitive skin.

"Sannie," you whined, your eyes fluttering close.

"Shh," his voice was deeper now, rougher. His grip tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

The desire was slowly clouding your mind, though at the back of your mind, you were thoroughly confused at what was currently happening. Not that you were complaining - your body did all the work for you. And so did San's lips.

You mewled when you felt him smile against your skin as his hand started to lift your shirt a bit above your tummy. To say you were surprised would be an understatement, the San you knew would be too shy to even make a move. It was one of his best qualities and you can't help but fall for him for it.

But this? You didn't even know what to do.

Your hand moves by itself, placing it on top of San's hand that was making abstract shapes on your tummy while he gives your neck little kitten kisses.

"You’re so soft," he murmured, lifting your leg slightly to shift you closer.

"S-San, what are you d-doing," your breathy voice couldn't even properly formulate a question.

His movements slow down, but not completely stop. He lifted his lips from your neck, and you had to stop the urge to pout at the sudden loss of contact. You let out a little gasp when you looked at him - his eyes were so dark, that the intensity of it had you reeling.

This wasn't the San you, but you'd be damned if you didn't admit to yourself that you didn't mind knowing who this was.

His grip on your waist tightened, his thumb pressing firmly into your skin as he studied you, his breathing heavy, controlled, but barely.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, voice rough, almost strained.

It sent a shiver down your spine, an ache pooling low in your stomach. "And what exactly do I do to you?"

For a second, a hint of hesitation flashes into his eyes, but when you darted your tongue slowly across your lips, it disappears entirely. You could tell that he was still nervous, that he was testing the waters here to see how far he'd go and how far you'd let him.

You held your breath when he gently held your shoulders to guide you down your couch, effectively splaying your body for him to crawl on top of. He tenderly tucks the strays hairs that made their way in front of your face, ignoring the way your eyes slightly widened and the way your mouth opened to say something, though no words ever did come out.

For a moment, all you did was stare at each other. If only San knew how nervous you were. Initiation was lost on San most of the time, if not all the time, so this was new - a totally uncharted territory.

"You look so pretty, baby," he whispered, eyes raking all over your form, rounded with such innocence that you couldn't help but sputter at the unexpected statement.

"Uh, thank you?" You questioned rather than answered.

He giggled, and your heart almost burst out of your chest. It was the type where his eyes disappeared as they crinkled upwards, where his dimples deepened impossibly so. Truly, you knew you were drowning then and there.

"You want this, right?" San leaned down, his face mere inches away from yours, his huge arms trapping your head in between. "Would you let me do what I want to you if I asked?"

"Y-Yeah," you stammered.

Your head grew weary with dizzy. A subtle nod from you was enough for his lips to twitch with anticipation. San's brow quirked upwards.

"Anything?"

Between you and San, you would consider yourself to be the more outgoing one; the type who was always sure of themself, the one who would usually take the lead because you had no problem getting the things you wanted for yourself.

So, why were you getting wet at the prospect of San just taking whatever the hell he wanted from you?

This was your sweet, sweet Sannie. It would be criminal of you to deny him anything. When you nodded again, your heart fluttered dangerously when those dimples of his showed up again.

"Aww," he cooed, leaning down to kiss your temple. "Thank you, baby."

Your brows furrowed a bit. The way he said it, it settled heavily down your stomach. You couldn't help the sharp hiss that escaped your mouth when you realized how mocking it sounded.

It was too late, though. San leaned away, his wide, dark eyes were hazy with something you couldn’t quite place - not just nervousness, but something darker. You knew you were in for a wild ride when he yanked your hair, almost painfully, upwards to crash your lips onto his.

Your stifled moans get swallowed by San's rough claim on your lips, his primal growls echoing your arousal. The kiss was no less than filthy, the wet sounds of lips smacking with each other were all you could hear in the wide expanse of your living room.

You've never felt like this before. There was fire coiling in your tummy at San's roughness. You had half the mind to wonder where your sweet San went, but if you were being honest with yourself, this was a long time coming, anyway.

And as if he read your mind, he leaned away, an evil smirk plastered on his face as he pressed your swollen lips with his thumb while his other hand tightened its hold on your hair, the pain making you groan lewdly. "S-San---"

"I'm going to ruin you," he said flatly, something borderline demonic passing through his face as he spoke further. "All you have to do is say yes, darling."

Darling. That was new. Shivers made their way up your spine, and San had the gall to chuckle darkly when he felt the way you spasmed in his hold. "Y-Yes," you whined.

You were fully shaking at this point, resembling a wet, trembling kitten in front of a waiting predator. And that San was - a predator. A ravening grin slowly stretches his mouth. It honestly terrifies you, you've never seen such expression on him.

Shame creeps all over you - you were a hypocrite because you were getting so turned on from how different San was acting. You weren't privy to all the times you did imagine how it would be like if San snapped one day and just manhandled you. Not that you didn't like your lovemaking session, because you genuinely did, but there was something about how animalistic he was slowly becoming right in front of you.

"Fuck," he huffed an ominous laugh, his eyes completely shrouded with lust as he peered down at you. More rounds of shivers went through you.

This might sound unbelievable to other people, but to those who knew San, he was never one to curse. Even when you had sex with him, he never really did.

You yelped when he pushed your head down as his free hand cupped your clothed breast brutally. Your hands automatically flew to his muscular arm, hoping to ease the pressure he used to pin your forehead down the couch, but all that did was make him pinch your nipple through your lace bra.

"Aww, does that hurt, darling?" San chuckled maliciously.

"A l-little," you mewled, the pain traveling straight down there.

"Nah," he drawled out, a sinister grin still displayed on his face. Your instincts told you to scoot away when he started to lean down your face with fake, mocking concern. "You know what does hurt, though?"

Before you could answer, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, lapping and biting the sensitive parts of your flesh. White, searing pain commands your mouth open with a silent scream. He bit hard enough to draw blood, but not enough to pierce your skin.

A diabolical cackle sounds through the air as you thrash from his hold. All San did was to push his hips down, his hardening cock pulsing against your core to keep you down. Soon enough, the pain becomes pleasure. A soft moan involuntarily slips from your mouth, letting San know that you were enjoying this.

You felt him smile against your skin when he let your skin go from his teeth and planted a loving kiss on the bite mark, letting you know this time that he'd actually never hurt you.

That didn't mean he wouldn't inflict a little bit of it, though.

"So," he began, his hands finding their place on either side of your hips, holding you flush underneath him as he rolled his hips teasingly against you. "How does being my dirty little slut for tonight sound to you?"

You blinked owlishly at him, your mouth opening and closing repeatedly as your brain malfunctioned then and there. Behind the predatory look was amusement that danced in his eyes as he watched you practically melt at the indication.

"Ow, Sannie, h-hurts," you gasped as you felt his nails digging on your hips, but if that didn't turn you on, you didn't know what.

"Good," he barked, his nails now dragging up your sides deeply until they reached your chest. You yelped in response. It hurt, but it hurt so good.

You almost whined when he got off of you, but not for long. He grabbed your trembling body and made his way to your bedroom, unceremoniously slamming you onto your bed, where he tore your clothes off of you, haphazardly throwing them in random spots of your room without care.

"Come here," he growled, pulling on your feet until you were at the edge of the bed, your ass plush against his thighs.

He was about to dive down to explore your body but you panicked mildly, quickly jutting your hand out to push his head away gently from you. You swallowed and, oh, he did not like that at all. San's eyes narrowed dangerously, one brow raised, giving you a pointed look.

"I-I haven't showered yet," you stammered pathetically. "I'm g-gross and yucky---"

"Shut up," he hissed fiercely, effectively stopping you before you even continued that line of thought.

A whine escaped you when he spread your legs wide before he started kissing and biting everywhere his lips touched. You couldn't help but pull his hair every single time he would bite a sensitive part, something you didn't even think possible since you had no idea those parts were sensitive to begin with.

"God, you taste so fucking sweet, darling," he bit the soft expanse of your breasts, back and forth to make them even, before squeezing them painfully hard. "I've always wanted to do this, you know? Watch you writhe like this against my hold, scared to death waiting and anticipating at how hard I'd fuck you."

"S-San, t-that h-hurts---"

"I don't care," he snapped, sucking a brand new bruise in your inner thighs, holding you down harshly as he swirled his tongue on the sensitive flesh. "Besides," he chuckled. "You love this. Don't be a lying whore."

"Oh, fuck," you whined involuntarily, thoroughly turned on at being degraded. Your eyes widened as you quickly covered your mouth. You hadn't meant for that to come out the way it did.

Your skin was marked with multiple scratches, bite marks, and love bites. You knew you would regret it the next day since you had to go to work, but frankly, you didn't give a fuck. You'd wear them proudly for the world to see. It wasn't difficult to see that San was marking his territory with you, and by God, you loved it.

You felt his hand caress your inner thigh, waiting no more as his finger lightly grazed your sopping wetness. You couldn't help but whine at the delicious sensation.

"Such a dirty, little whore you are, my darling," he laughed. He wasted no time dipping two fingers inside you. "You like that, beautiful?"

You almost blacked out at the pleasure that automatically rendered your body into jelly. "Oh, God, San, shit," you rambled, bucking your hips unintentionally.

San wasn't your first, but you sincerely hoped that he was your last. He was the only one to genuinely care for you like he did. He was the only one to make you shudder and moan like this, the only you let in and gave yourself fully.

And he was the only one you'd ever let rough you up like this.

"Yes, just like that, darling, give it to me," he said through gritted teeth as his fingers drove into you roughly, the wet, squelching sounds from your pussy lewdly filling up the room.

"S-San, please," you practically cried, fisting the blankets around you until your knuckles were white. "I-I wanna come on your c-cock--"

"No," he snarled, flicking his wrist in an angle that had you screaming loudly. "You're going to come right now. Come on, love, give it to me."

His fingers demanded an orgasm, forcing pleasure out of your body that enticed you to surrender. And that, he'll get.

You've never really come from just fingering, alone, and San knew that, so when you started to scream and thrash around from the force of your orgasm, you didn't want to come down from your high. But San had different plans.

You hadn't noticed him taking all of his clothes off. You certainly hadn't noticed him hike your legs up to prop them on his wide shoulders before sliding inside you in one go.

"Oh, fucking hell," he hissed through gritted teeth. He thrust once, groaning lowly from within his chest at the feel of you.

Goosebumps formed on your skin and you couldn't help the small scream that erupted from you. "Fuck---"

You couldn't even finish it, not when San began pounding away at you like never before. "Oh, Sannie---"

He chuckled at how your eyes rolled behind your head at the unrelenting pace of his thrusts, and by God, you loved every second of how animalistic and how uncaring San seemed even though you knew he wouldn't hurt you.

"I should've done this from the very beginning," he trapped his tongue between his teeth cockily before grabbing your chin and squeezing it tight. "You like this, slut?"

You whined when he squeezed your face even tighter, the pain blooming in your brain, mixing with the heady pleasure San offered you. "You're going to let me use this slutty pussy," he sneered, diving down to claim your lips.

You wrapped your arms around him, parting your lips naturally to receive his sinful tongue. You weren't going to last long at all. Whenever San's cock entered you, he usually took it slow and sensual as he loved the look on your face whenever your bodies would connect as one.

"Ngh, you feel so b-big," you groaned, not even thinking about it.

Blush crept up your cheeks. Just because you were more outgoing, doesn't mean you didn't have your shy moments. You've always wanted to tell San that fact, but you were too afraid that he wouldn't receive it well because of how reserved he was.

He raised a mocking brow at you as he chuckled lowly - maliciously, even. "I know," he said.

His callous way of saying it made you squeeze around his cock on reflex, your hips bucking up in response. San hissed, and for a split second, his hips stuttered at how impossibly tight you felt around him.

"Do that again," he barked out, bending down to suck the sensitive flesh of your shoulder, your legs getting folded in half as he went in deeper on you, hitting you in places you didn't think possible.

"Like this?" You squeezed on command, a surge of pride going through you when San shuddered, his body shaking with ecstasy . It was a physical manifestation of what you do to him.

He didn't let up, his hips drove into you over and over again without rest or fail, the sound of skin slapping against skin prevalent, the lewdness of it turning the both of you on even more. Every time San's hips hit your behind, you couldn't help your moans that turned into a staccato mess.

You gasped when he suddenly yanked your arms away from his shoulders, growling under his breath as he roughly pinned your hands on top of your head as he took your deep and hard, cursing over and over again and making you scream.

"S-San, fuck, s-so good," you panted heavily, not expecting the restraint to make you feel this good.

"You're mine," he growled, pushing into your body viciously. "Mine."

"Yours, yours, f-fuck, ah, y-yours," you cried out.

Oh, he loved that. He took a small moment to stare at your panting form, tears forming on the corners of your eyes as your glossy eyes stared into nothing. Fuck, he thought. You were a vision like this. He digs his fingers into your wrists.

"Tell me," he began. "Is that too tight?"

You shook your head vigorously, stray tears landing on the sheets, your red-rimmed eyes widened. "N-No," you stuttered. "L-Love it."

"Of course, you do," he scoffed, pushing down on your hands more, enough to temporarily cut blood off. There would be bruises tomorrow, and they would haunt him badly, but right now, he couldn't find any fucks about it. You were completely his tonight, both body and soul.

Even when you whined because your legs were starting to get numb, he still didn't lift the pressure from your wrists as you changed position. It was the psychological aspect of it; you trusted San not to exert too much power on you and he dominated you just enough for him to show you how much he cared about your pleasure even though every drag of his cock against your velvety walls defined how much he also used you for his pleasure as if you were a ragdoll only made for his cum.

"Wrap your legs around me, baby," he ordered. You wasted no time doing so with San pulling you to him at the same time as he held deep within you. He pauses, composing himself. "Kiss me."

His free hand frames your face, angling his head to immediately slip his tongue inside your mouth, coaxing yours to dance with his in a filthy battle for dominance. San pulls away, kissing the corner of your mouth to resume fucking into you, but he gets caught off guard when he makes eye contact with you.

You looked deeply into his eyes. For a moment, all was forgotten - your nakedness, the bruises forming on your wrists, the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his panting breaths, everything. It was just the two of you conveying everything you both couldn't say at the moment with just your eyes.

You swallowed audibly, mustering the courage to keep staring into San's eyes despite you wanting to do nothing but hide away. It was intense, it burned through you, it made you feel special.

"Fuck me, San," you whined - begged - buckling your hips to meet his.

Darkness covered his entire features. He didn't need to be told twice. He gave you a quick kiss before pounding back into you with so much force, your bed began squeaking obnoxiously, the headboards knocking over the walls repeatedly.

He lets your wrists go to grabs the sides of your hips, pulling you to meet his cock with a loud, prolonged growl. "Not gonna last long, baby, fuck," he slams your hips over and over again so roughly, your hipbones began to hurt, but you could care less.

His fingers makes their way to your clit, rubbing it fast in tandem with his maddening thrusts. Electricity made their way through your spine, your body thrashing. "N-No, Sannie, baby, I-I can't," your hips bucked higher. "San!"

You were shaking violently against his hold, overstimulation messing with your brain at all the different onslaughts San was doing to your body. "It's too much, please," you begged, voice wavering

"I don't give a fuck," San roared, the brashness of his voice surprising you, the fire in his eyes as he glared at you spurring your pleasure to different heights. "You told me you'd do anything," he kept rubbing your clit, pinching it for effect. "Well, you better take what I fucking give you. Even if I force it out of you."

"San, please, please!" You screamed pitifully, sobbing with full force at the domineering pain that overtook your entire core.

"You're mine, Y/N. End of story. Shut up and take my cock."

He was stretching you to your limits, and it was almost unbearable, but you couldn't find it in you to tell him to stop. This was different, there was no easing into it like he usually did before he even started, and there were absolutely no words of affirmation from him to let your orgasm take over you. This was pure fucking on his end, a mission to ruin you like he promised, and you'd welcome it with open arms.

"A-Ah, ngh, S-San! I really c-can't, please," you sobbed, the overstimulation alternating between unbearable pain and toe-curling pleasure.

Fresh tears made their way down your face all the way down to your sweaty neck as your body shook violently. You were close, that much you can tell. San could tell. You gasped when he pressed his muscular arm on your neck with little pressure, enough to just keep you in place, but the dominant gesture literally made your vision go black.

He leaned down to lick a stripe from your neck to your ear, collecting your tears lewdly. You cried when he bit your earlobe. "You will," he whispered vehemently. "You fucking will. You're going to come hard on my fucking cock, and you're going to scream my name."

You gurgled on your spit when he pressed his arms on your windpipe, the cutoff of the blood elevating your pleasure. He bared his teeth at the erotic sight. "You hear me, darling? My fucking name. Come for me, right fucking," he lets out a primal scream as he pummels his cock with bruising effort like his life depended on it. "Now."

He releases your neck to bury his face on the crook of your neck, and with a loud gasp, you completely let go as you screamed San's name so hard, your voice started cracking towards the end. The aftershocks of your orgasm shook you underneath his body. It was enough for San to let himself go.

He rammed into you a couple of times before he sank into you one last time, his release devastatingly strong that his legs almost gave out on him. It took a bit of effort on his end to not collapse on top of you and crush you with his weight.

Heavy pants filled your ears as you gasped to catch your own breath. You realized too late that you had both forgotten and forgone the use of protection, but if you were being honest to yourself, you couldn't even begin to care, let alone regret it, and you knew you never will.

You must've passed out shortly afterwards and the next time you came to, you were clean and already dressed in one of your favourite pyjamas, laying down comfortably on a San's chest as your body pressed against his sides, his hand wrapped loosely on your shoulders.

San didn't notice when you stirred awake. His other hand held a book, one that you knew he'd been binge-reading for a while now, his face relaxed lest you count his furrowed brows as he concentrated. If you weren't tired, you would've cooed at the endearing sight.

He looked good, especially with the black-rimmed glasses perched up his straight nose. Your heart skipped a beat - you had this wild urge to kiss him dizzy as if the both of you didn't just have the most mind-blowing sex.

Finally, he notices you and he does a comical double take when he makes eye contact with you. A soft smile tugged at your lips as he fumbled with his book, dropping it like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing.

"H-Hey, baby," he laughed nervously, trying to pry off his glasses with both hands, whining in embarrassment when he realized that both of his hands were occupied. "I, uh, didn't want to disturb you. You, uhm, looked so peaceful, I just..."

You bit your lip to stop yourself from giggling when he put his book down on his lap to take the glasses off, but his clammy hands prevented him from doing so and it kept slipping off of his fingers.

"I got it, don't worry," you breathed out, lifting your hand to hold onto his, guiding it so he'd have a better grip, but his hand was shaking a bit too much that the glasses ended up slipping once more, only this time, they tumbled off of the bed.

He froze. "Oh crap, oh my God, uhm."

San was a cute bundle of nervous energy. Long gone was the man who dominated you like he did it everyday. He muttered something to himself, his cheeks burning bright. You wanted to give him some reprieve - mercy, if you will.

"it's alright, Sannie, relax," you chuckled, adjusting yourself to try and put his book away, yourself, so he could grab his glasses back from the floor. "Here, let me---"

But he seemed to have the same idea. The moment you lifted your head, was the moment he tilted his head down, causing your foreheads to knock off of each other. You both groaned in surprise, and before you could help it, you laughed out loud, the absurdity of it all getting to you. Oh, this man was cute.

"Please, don't laugh," he whined, more embarrassed than ever. "A-Are you okay? I am so sorry, I swear I'm not usually this clumsy!"

You were still laughing, it was uncontrollable at this point, and then you let out the loudest snort you've ever heard yourself do.

Your eyes went wide in mortification, clamping your hand over your mouth in shock. San froze, not knowing what to say at first, but then, he surprised you when he started laughing so hard, his entire body shook yours and he even let out a loud snort, himself.

"Oh, God, we're such a m-mess," you laughed even harder, wiping the lone tear from your eye.

"I'll say," he shook his head amusingly.

Your heart skipped a beat at the warmth in his voice. The awkwardness, the snorts, the blunders, it didn’t matter. You were laughing together, and somehow, in that moment, it felt perfect.

"You're adorable," he whispered, pulling you to him to plant the softest kiss on your forehead. Suddenly, he pulled away, as if disbelieving that he just did that.

Just like that, the laughter died down. The air simmered with a light tension, not the awkward kind, only the type that came from someone who didn't want to overstep their boundaries.

He lifted your hands, touching the bruises that were beginning to form on your wrists with such gentleness that it actually hurt you to see him this way. "I'm sorry," he croaked, his finger lingering on the bruises as if he was trying to erase them.

"San," you spoke with conviction, cupping his face firmly. "It's okay, I, uhm, I liked it."

You flushed crimson at the admission. He didn't say anything, the grief in his eyes still visible, but lessened as you assured him that it was okay.

"How long was I out?" You asked, breaking the ice lightly.

"A little more than an hour," he hummed, clearing his throat before turning to you. "Listen, I- I just wanted to make sure you're okay. I know we've never really spent the night before, but I didn't want to leave you. It didn't feel right to me."

That made your heart soar, but it also almost struck a pang in your chest, his uncertainty was palpable. "Did I hurt you?" San asked, his voice quiet. "I was too rough, wasn't I? I'm worried I might have crossed some lines with you."

You softened at the concern in his eyes. You could tell he was genuinely troubled, his usual confidence now replaced with hesitation. You shook your head with a reassuring smile. "You didn't, not even close," you gave him a small peck on the cheek to make your point across. "I'm glad you stayed."

His brows lifted in surprise as you pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours to search for any signs of discomfort. "I don't know what came over me," he admitted, voice strained. "You just looked so damn good, I-I couldn't resist."

You stayed silent, letting him continue. San fidgeted with his finger to find the right things to say to you without overthinking too much. "What I'm trying to say is," he sighed. "I just want it to be perfect for you."

You hadn't expected him to be this open. Something warm coats your chest. it felt serene, calming even. "I don't want perfection, San," you shook your head. "But you are perfect for me."

His eyes widened, mouth hanging slightly at your admission. "Really?" San asked, as if he weren't expecting you to say anything of the like.

His expression softened, and he reached out, gently brushing his fingers against yours. The simple touch felt electric, as if everything until now had shifted into something more open, more real.

Everything seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you with a quiet understanding. No more uncertainty, no more hesitation. Just the simple truth of what was there all along.

"This is what I want," you said. "You're very kind, San. You listen, and you care. When I'm with you, I'm not pressured to be someone I'm not. I don't even have to because I know you'll be there for me."

He didn't speak, his gaze just lingering on you as if he was seeing you for the very first time. There was something in the way he looked at you, something unspoken, that made everything feel so clear. The depth of his affection was almost suffocating, but if that was the case, you'd drown in it willingly.

And San knew that you could feel it. He tucked the strays of your hair behind your ears before settling on your face. He smiled softly, still as shy as ever, and in between the knowing looks you both shared, he just hoped that his sincerity was enough.

"I think I want to love you one day," he murmured, heart beating wildly in his chest at the confession. "I would love to fall madly for you."

There were no words need to be said. The connotation was there, and you both knew it. You closed your eyes, a split second of imagination playing in your head. It was too soon, you two basically just met and you were still at that stage where you were still learning about each other, but you could almost see it then and there.

Still, the revelation left you reeling. Breathless, even.

"I think I want to love you one day, too," you confessed with a smile. "I can honestly see myself falling in love with you, San."

And if his smile wasn't an indicator of how happy he was, you didn't know what. You were happy, too.

Dividers by : @dollywons Like my work? Click here to view my previous story.

[thesuperiorrobin]

Safe space~

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem!Crush!Reader

Warnings: none

Damian needed to get out of the house.

Immediately.

Somehow, everybody seemed to be pushing his buttons just right, from the way Jason would just come in unannounced and eat the food while chewing loudly, Dick trying to invade his personal space while completely yelling in his ear, and when Tim would enter a room he was in he would get this annoyed and ticked off feeling that just had him puffing and glaring at the tired man. He needed to leave the manor or else the entire building would be ashes on the ground in the next ten minutes. Bruce was nowhere to be seen and Alfred was doing his own little thing in the kitchen, probably feeding a very hungry Jason.

Damian hides himself in a black car that belonged to his father, a nice old Aston Martin DBS and as he sits in the driver's seat with his phone in his hands he can only stare at the screen, thumbs typing away.

Damian: are you awake?

His eyes glance up at the time on his phone, reading 10:37 pm. He hopes you’re awake, considering it’s a school night after all. He waits for a response, three minutes go by and his phone vibrates in his hands.

You: yeah was literally about to go to bed and rote until 3 am.

You: why? Wanna play Roblox?

You: see I told you it wasn’t so bad. Now I got you addicted 🙄🤚

Damian rolls his eyes at his screencast shaking his head as he starts to type. On your side of the screen, you can see the bubble disappear and appear, for a solid minute before he finally sends the message.

Damian: if you are not busy, I would like for you to accompany me.

You: YAY ROADTRIP😩

You: where we going?

You: also I’m like broke .38 cents isn’t really going get me anything.

Damian: Anywhere. I just need to get out of the house to take a breather and don’t worry about it, whatever you need I’ll get it for you.

You: you okay? Did something happen?

Damian: No. Just be ready when I get there.

You: okay😑

He really hates that stupid emoji.

You’re running out the door when you get the ‘I’m here’ message from him and Damian watches as you almost miss a step and trip over your own feet. You make it into his car in one piece and buckle yourself in.

Damian can see that you were getting ready to lay in bed, entering his car with your hair out of your face, all cozied up with warm black pants that had kuromis imprinted all over, and a black zip-up sweater that’s keeping you warm.

“Helloooo~” you breathe out, placing your tote bag on your lap as you glance at Damian “So where we going?”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah….but I wanna skip the meal and go straight for the dessert!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah” you shrug “we got free will, why not use it”

This is where you were now, in the car as your choice of music plays softly, after Damian so kindly gave you the Aux after complaining about his music taste for a solid minute. Your seat is, moved back giving you room to get comfortable as you face Damian with your leg bent over the other.

You seem to be yapping away with the milkshake in hand as you wave it around slightly and he listens, eating away at his ice cream cone as he watches your every move.

Damian feels at ease, relaxing up against his seat as he glances at you—eyeing every feature on your face. From every eyelash to every acne scar to every birthmark to the smile lines that grace your face. He’s memorized them by now. You feel his eyes on you, and as you glance up to stare up at him he looks away shyly.

Clearly out of character for him.

“Is there something on my face?” you question as your arms reach out to pull down the car's visor, seeing as it had a little mirror to look at with little lights to see in the dark “Do I have whipped cream on me?”

“No… just thinking” he breathes out, eyes fixed out ahead of him.

You hum, eyes never leaving the visor as you answer back “Does that have anything to do with why you wanted to get out of the house tonight?”

He doesn’t answer instead, he takes a glance back at you. You’re staring back at him with a questionable look, visor now put back up. He takes a look at your hand, fingernails shining in the moonlight.

“Did you get your nails done?” He’s quick with the topic change, seeing as you glance down to show him but you retreat your hand back with a glare.

“Don’t change the subject!”

It takes hums a moment to answer before sighing “It was nothing serious….every little thing my brothers did irritate me”

“Ah…sibling irritation” you let out a breathy laugh “I get it, your brothers can be a handful sometimes”

At least you get him, others really wouldn’t, and his father sometimes doesn’t. It’s not like he had any siblings growing up anyway. Sometimes people would disagree with him, but you seem to agree with everything he says even if he’s wrong, which is rare, but you still do anyway.

Sooner or later the conversation seems to shift from a different topic to another different topic—and it seems like the cycle continues for hours.

He likes this.

You aren’t loud, you aren’t slurping away at your drink and your presence doesn’t seem to annoy him at all.

Yeah, he enjoys your presence more than anyone he knows.

and as he finishes the last of his ice cream he clutches his head, groaning as he hears you laugh.

“Brain freeze dumbass”

He starts to laugh too, and now the car is filled with your giggles and his breathy laughs.

Yeah…. You’re his little safe space and he’ll do anything to protect it.

Was literally supposed to post something for Valentine’s Day but I ended up getting the flu plus strep throat and an ear infection all at once so I couldn’t write it 😕.

[just1cefor4ll]

Kind stranger

Kang Dae-ho x pregnant!reader warning. swearing, not proof read, in-ho never reveals his true identity, might be OOC

A/n. this is uh— long. and my first time writing for squid game so I hope you enjoy!

“Miss, are you okay?” A man with the number 388 on his shirt asked, his voice soft and careful. His eyes, curious and innocent, sort of reminded you of a puppy; despite the grim reality around you both.

“Oh, me? Yeah, I’m fine,” you said quickly, keeping your head down. “Just.. shaken up after the first game.” His brows furrowed slightly as he studied you, but he didn’t step closer. “You sure? I could ask for help if you’re feeling unwell.” “Yeah,” you said, forcing a small smile. “Really, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” For a moment, he looked like he might say more, but then he nodded. “Alright. Take care of yourself,” he said simply, before stepping back and going over to the man who supposedly has won these games before.

You exhaled, the tension in your shoulders easing. He didn’t push, and for that, you were grateful. The last thing you needed was someone noticing how you instinctively cradled your stomach when you thought no one was looking.

As the room buzzed with hushed conversations and the sound of restless movement, you sank further into yourself. There wasn’t room for kindness here, not when you were hiding something so precious—something that would only make you a target.

Still, you couldn’t shake the warmth in his voice. It was strange, how a simple act of concern could make you feel human again, even for just a moment. But you reminded yourself it was safer this way. No ties, no risks.

The only thing that mattered was keeping you and the life inside you safe. Your baby girl.

Once you woke up to the loud melody of classical music you were immediately hit with a kick to the stomach. ‘Shit— who’d think that a baby could be this strong.’ You think to yourself as you lazily sit up, rubbing the rest of the sleep from your eyes.

“Attention all players, the next game will begin shortly. Please follow the staff’s instructions and make your way towards the game hall.

Right—those death games. You joined the forming line of players, a chaotic mix of emotions filling the air. Some people were pale with fear, trembling as if the weight of the games had already crushed them. Others seemed indifferent, like they’d embraced whatever fate awaited. Then there were those who practically vibrated with excitement, eyes gleaming at the chance to win yet another fuck ton of blood money.

You were firmly in the scared to death category. Money didn’t matter— at least not anymore. Your debt was more than the share you’d get if the first vote had ended in the X’s winning but to you no amount of cash could make this worth risking your baby’s life for.

As you shuffled forward, lost in thought, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Startled, you turned to see the old lady from the first game, her kind smile somehow both soothing and grating at the same time. “Do you need a hand? I’m sure you’re still tired.” She asked softly, leaning closer as though trying to shield her words from the others. “I heard the next game is dalgona, so please, be careful.” You forced a small, polite smile, trying to keep your voice steady. “Oh, no, I’m fine. Thank you,” you said quickly, brushing off her concern as gently as you could.

She didn’t seem convinced, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than you liked. But, thankfully, she nodded and stepped back into line.

You sighed inwardly, a mix of guilt and frustration bubbling under your skin. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate her kindness. In a place like this, it was a rarity you didn’t take lightly, but you couldn’t afford for anyone to notice how vulnerable you really were.

Well whatever theory the old woman heard, it definitely wasn’t true. You were supposed to divide into groups of five and all though you didn’t really remember dalgona being a big part of your childhood, you still knew it definitely wasn’t a group game.

You sigh as you try and look for a team however you forgot that all these men were stuck up and sexist so they all turned you down even if they needed just one last player to make them a full team. ‘Motherfuckers—‘ You bump into a familiar man, the very one who was concerned for your well being yesterday. The impact made you wince and clutch your stomach, mumbling out a quick ‘sorry’. “Oh, miss! It’s you. Are you okay did I hurt you?” He put a hand on your back and looked at you with concern in his eyes— which then traveled down to your swollen belly. “Please let me join your team, everyone keeps turning me away.” You begged, practically bowing to this man to help you. “Of course— please no need to bow I’m glad to help you. Please don’t strain yourself miss, I’ve got you.” He smiled sweetly and lead you to his group— of men.

“I thought you’d bring a man—“ Player 390 started but cut himself off as you placed your hand on your stomach, pulling the ‘i’m pregnant’ card. ‘Whatever needs go be done to survive I guess.’ Every single one of them looked down and nodded, welcoming you with warmth which was quiet unexpected.

The game luckily went well— at least for your team. The other one unfortunately got shot up while you were cheering in victory, bringing you back to the cruel reality you were living.

Player 456; Gi-hun as you learnt once you got back, instructed everyone to put their mattresses onto the ground and make a barrier in case anyone attacked tonight which seemed absurd but you didn’t bother arguing since he did play before. However Young-il voiced his concerns aloud which only made you wince at the bad move.

“Absurd? The moment the lights went out last time, everyone went for each other. People who you thought you could trust. Your most ‘loyal’ ally betrayed you without a second thought.” His voice was sharp, venom dripping from every word, and the room grew colder as his meaning sank in. Young-il smiled faintly, looking down a bit. “You’re right,” he said smoothly. “I apologize for my ignorance. Who better to trust than someone who’s already survived?”

The tension hung heavy in the air for a moment before Gi-hun turned away, giving out orders to the group. Everyone, even the skeptical ones, obeyed without question.

Player 388; Kang Dae-ho and 390; Jung-Bae gathered mattresses and set them down onto the floor while you were tasked to collect pillows and blankets. ‘So you don’t overexert yourself.’ Gi-hun said to you a few minutes back, his light pat on your back a bit comforting but still awkward from the last interaction.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, everyone moving with purpose, glancing nervously at the darkened corners. Gi-hun’s warning echoed in your mind: People you thought you could trust.

Once again when the classical music woke everyone from their slumber— a never ending routine you’ve learned to hate, you knew what was about to happen. ‘The next game..’

You all agreed on voting X, even Jung-bae who previously voted O and told yourselves you’d meet for dinner once everything in your lives was settled which excited your nerves. ‘I got this. For my baby, and my.. friends.’ You thought to yourself as everyone chatted along themselves, you yourself stealing glances from Dae-ho, a reassuring smile exchange between the two of you.

That night while everyone was asleep, Dae-ho was keeping watch with Jung-bae. You noticed how the older man was starting to doze off so you decided to switch with him even after his constant reassurance that he’d be fine and that you needed the rest more than he did.

You sat in silence for a bit before you decided to strike up a conversation. “So, what made you take me into your team?” You asked softly, looking up at the prize money in the see through pig. ‘Your life could be added to that pile any second.’ A voice inside you kept repeating but you shook it off. “You reminded me of my sisters. I knew I definitely wouldn’t want them to be left stranded and definitely not here— plus in your state you could be exposed to any kind of danger and what kind of man would I be if I let a gorgeous lady like you get put into the arms of those assholes..” He stated simply, gesturing towards all the other men who were on the other side. You just nodded, his words kind and genuine.

You talked through almost the whole night, telling him how you ended up here and some personal things which hardly anyone knew about you while he shared things about his toxic household and his amazing older sisters before Gi-hun told you two to catch some sleep before the game that morning and so you did, giving Dae-ho one last glance before lying down on your mattress.

You made your way towards the game hall, your heart beating so fast you thought it’d explode any second. The room looked like a big circus tent, doors going all around the room with a big platform in the middle which reminded you of a carousel. Once the instructions were said, you all formed a strategy. “If the number is bigger then 5 we will find the remaining amount of players. If it’s less then that we split. The most important thing is to stay calm, don’t panic.” You repeated in your head everything that Gi-hun and Young-il said, placing your hand on the pile, taking a deep breath before muttering ‘Victory.’ along with them.

The platform soon started spinning, a nursery rhyme on the speakers with bright lights shining in the middle of the platform.

“Ten players.”

Everyome scathered around, yelling and pulling people into their group like wild animals before a group of people came to you. “We have 4, how many of you are there?” Player 120 asked before getting pushed by a man with wide, psychotic eyes. “There’s five of us, come with us.” However they got pulled away by yet another group.

“15 seconds.”

Player 120 rushed to a woman who looked like she was.. praying? Rushing to the nearest empty door. “Room 40! The green one!” You yelled as you quickly got into the room before it locked itself. Your breathing was quick, sweat going down your forehead but relief washed over you. You were alive. The lady started screaming, something about how you were alive because of her and that you should be thanking her but you ignored her, going back out once the speaker told you to.

The next round was 3 people so you went with Dae-ho and Jung-bae while Young-il and Gi-hun went to find a player. Another round survived.

Six players was the most shattering part. Everything was going fine until the girl who’s name was Young-mi was locked out by player 333. You couldn’t watch the scene unfold so you looked down and covered your ears, a ache in your heart for player 120 who lost a dear friend.

The last was two players and you ran with Dae-ho to an empty room, pushing a few players aside to get an empty room. “There’s 50 rooms and 126 players. 100 players will survive, the remaining won’t be as lucky.” Young-il explained before you all ran off once the platform stopped. A pain in your stomach stopped you deaf in your tracks, getting pushed to the ground by a guy who quickly went into the room with Dae-ho, however he got a punch to the face and got thrown out before he could close the door.

“10 seconds.”

Dae-ho rushed to you and picked you up, sprinting to the room and shutting it right as the lock clicked and shots fired, eliminating the 26 players just like Young-il had predicted. Your eyes watered with relief, getting onto your knees you bowed, choking out your gratitude to the man in front of you. He knelt down next to you, letting your head rest on his shoulder as he patted your head. “No, no don’t cry. I told you I’d get us out of here didn’t I? We’re alive, all three of us.” He smiled, giving you one last squeeze before helping you up, wiping your tears and joining the rest of the group.

Dae-ho stayed beside you the whole time after the game, waiting for the pink soldiers to come and let us take a vote. Your hopes weren’t high, it was pretty obvious since you sat there with slumped shoulders as everyone else after your vote continued to press the O’s and X’s.

“Last 6 votes.” Jung-bae shook Dae-ho with excitement which he returned twice as much. Your eyes began to shine with a little hope as the last two players came up to the voting area.

An X..

You could sense the tension, every single breath, the sound of teeth chattering.. one last vote.

An X.

51:50

You won? You— no that couldn’t be? You won! You jumped into Dae-ho’s arms as everyone from your group started to celebrate. The money was enough for all of you now, it was perfect even! Gi-hun promised everyone to help with the money he previously won if something wasn’t payed for or that they just needed help in general.

There were angry shouts which were quickly shut down with a gun shot to the roof.

“The majority of the players have voted to terminate the games. It’s quite a pity we must say goodbye to you like this, but the games are now over. Your belongings and money will all be returned and sent to your homes. Thank you for your participation.”

You finally felt the cold breeze of air as you were dumped out of the car, hitting your back hard against the pavement. Groaning, you struggled against the restraints on your wrists, wincing at the sharp pain shooting through your body. Just as panic began to settle in, you heard familiar voices—voices you thought you’d never hear again. Your friends. Relief washed over you as they rushed to your side, helping you up and breaking the binds that held you, and them captive.

Months passed since the horrors of the games, and life had taken a turn for the better. You moved in with Dae-ho after oficially getting together and deciding to start something fresh. Your apartment was close to almost everyone in your circle, making it easier to stay connected; which is why regular dinners became a tradition, a way to bond and leave the dark memories of the games behind. Slowly but surely, you all began to rebuild your lives, focusing on the present and the joy of simply being alive.

Not long after your release, your baby came into the world—a healthy, beautiful girl, delivered without complications. The birth was celebrated joyously, marking a new chapter in your life. Gi-hun and Young-il eagerly accepted the roles of godfathers, while the kind old woman from the group became the grandmother. Everyone else quickly fell into place as loving uncles and aunts.

It wasn’t a blood tied family, but the love was a stronger seal than anything else in the world.

Tonight, you were hosting a sort of ‘meeting our daughter’ type thing at your home. Everyone was already there but you excused yourself to get a camera to take a few pictures when you noticed Dae-ho standing in front of the mirror. His brow was furrowed, a look you’ve learnt to recognize after being together for a few months now. “Dae?” you asked softly, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

He hesitated, his gaze fixed on the mirror as he fidgeted with his shirt. “I just... I’ve been thinking. What if she doesn’t like me when she grows older? I’m not her real father, after all.” His voice faltered, the vulnerability clear in his tone. You turned him around gently, cupping his face in your hands as you looked into his eyes. “Dae-ho,” you began, your voice steady and full of warmth, “she doesn’t need a ‘real’ father. She needs you. You’re the one who’s been there for us, who’s loved us and cared for us. She’s going to grow up knowing how amazing you are because of the love you show her every single day.”

His expression softened, his shoulders relaxing as he let out a shaky breath. “You really think so?” You smiled, nodding. “I know so. She already adores you. She doesn’t care about blood ties, Dae she only knows the man who makes her giggle and holds her when she cries. That’s what makes a real father.”

He pulled you into a tight embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you,” he whispered.

The sound of your daughter’s laugh echoed from the living room, followed by Gi-hun’s exaggerated baby talk as he attempted to entertain her. You and Dae-ho shared a chuckle before heading out to join the others. That night, surrounded by your unconventional but deeply loving family, you realized just how far you’d come. The memories of the games still lingered, but they no longer held power over you. Your life was yours to live, and the bonds you’d formed in the aftermath were stronger than anything money or blood could ever buy.

In the warmth of your family’s laughter and the comfort of Dae-ho’s hand in yours, you knew you had found your peace.

© just1cefor4ll— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms and fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[pinkboaclub]

Sweet Thing

Summery: You and Harry are best friends, despite your 15 year age gap. One night, when your blind date goes wrong, he wants to make sure your night still ends in pleasure. {Older!Harry}

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: smut, age gap (15 years), mention of alcohol consumption, fem!reader

“Oh, what’s wrong, pretty girl?” Harry asked, his voice warm with concern as you trudged over to him from the bar, exhaustion written across your face.

The music in the background blared so loudly that it felt like it was vibrating through your bones, drowning out everything else. Every Friday night, Harry rented a private room at the local club for your group of friends to unwind, drink, and let loose.

You collapsed into his lap, resting your head against his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh.

“I’m just so tired…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible over the thumping bass.

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer with a gentle smile. He knew how alcohol always made you sleepy and affectionate, especially after just a few drinks.

“Poor thing,” Harry teased, his lip sticking out in a mock pout. He was used to giving you the same spiel every Friday—how he knew even a little alcohol would knock you out.

“I wasn’t even planning on drinking tonight,” you giggled drunkenly. “But then Eve and Clara dragged me to the bar, and I had one drink… and then two… and then three…it really wasn’t my fault.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll get you something to eat, at least. You need to balance out that alcohol.” He reached across the table to grab a small bowl of pretzels and nuts he had sent to the table the moment he saw you take your first shot, but the thought of eating made your stomach churn.

Despite the 15-year age gap between you—23 and Harry 38—you had always been close. You were just friends, of course, and had made sure to clarify that to everyone around you, but it didn’t stop people from speculating.

But could you blame them? You practically lived at his house, spent most of your free time together, and took care of each other like an old married couple.

You half-heartedly munched on a couple of pretzels, trying to settle your stomach. Just then, a waiter appeared with a glass of ice water, which you drank down in one go, the cold helping to ground you.

As your friends continued their chatter, some heading to the bar, others to the dance floor, you stayed in Harry’s lap, drifting in and out of sleep with your head tucked into his neck.

“We can head home if you want, bunny,” Harry murmured, his hand gently rubbing up and down your back.

“No, I’m okay,” you protested sleepily, keeping your eyes shut as you snuggled deeper into him. “Let’s stay for a bit.”

Eve, Clara, and a few others returned, laughing as they took their seats around the table.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever seen fall asleep in a club with barely any alcohol in their system,” Eve said with a teasing smile.

You managed a sleepy chuckle. “I can’t socialize without a little buzz,” you admitted, blinking your eyes open for the first time in a while as you sat up.

“As long as we get you on the dance floor later, I don’t mind,” Clara said with a wink, sipping on her margarita.

"Speaking of socializing," Eve began, eyeing you playfully, "Do you remember that guy we met at Jolie’s art exhibit? Elijah?" You nodded, though your memory of him was hazy.

"Well," she continued, "he kind of asked if I could set you two up on a date... but I told him I’d check with you first. It’s totally your call."

Maybe it was the alcohol, or just the idea of finally getting laid after months of dry spells, but before you could think it through, your words came tumbling out.

"Sure, why not? I think I remember him being cute. Is he nice?" You caught Harry’s gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as his jaw clenched.

"He’s a friend of Jolie and me from University," Eve said, her voice light. "He was closer to Jolie, but he’s sweet. Really into art and music. I think you’ll like him." Eve’s tone was upbeat, though the surprise among the other girls was palpable. You'd been known to avoid dating for months, and yet here you were, agreeing to a date in the blink of an eye. Without hesitation, Eve texted Elijah to let him know you'd accepted.

The next hour passed in a blur of laughter and bad jokes that were 10 times funnier thanks to the alcohol coursing through your system. After a couple more drinks, you, Eve, and Clara decided to hit the dance floor again.

"You’re coming with me?" you asked Harry, slinging your arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Not really feeling it," he bluntly replied. "But don’t let me stop you."

You pouted, leaning closer to him. "You can go home, if you’re done. We could go home together." Your lips kissed all over his face, guilt creeping in as your drunk brain wondered if you'd done something wrong.

"No, no, sweet thing, I’m good. Just haven’t had enough to drink to feel loose enough to show off my moves," he chuckled, planting a quick kiss on your head. "Go have fun."

With that, you strutted away, immediately getting lost in the rhythm of the music. You couldn’t help but notice each of you was drunkenly dancing to a different beat.

"Hey!! Elijah texted me back!" Eve shouted over the thumping music. "He wants to take you out tomorrow!"

"Sounds good!" you yelled back, not even pausing in your wild dancing. "Any time after five works for me!"

When your legs finally felt like they’d given all they could to the dance floor, the three of you retreated back to your private room.

"I can tell by your face that you’re getting tired again," Harry teased, his voice warm as he glanced over at you. You sat down next to him, leaning into his side. "Time to go home?"

You nodded, already feeling the weight of your headache catching up to you.

"Okay, let’s go, sweet thing." Harry helped you stand, offering you a smile.

As was the usual routine after a night out—one of you sober, the other tipsy—the sober one would drive the drunk one home. When you were both drunk, however, it became a game of scissor -paper-stone to see who’d get the front seat in the Uber.

He gently assisted you into his car, a sleek black Range Rover, securing your seatbelt as you leaned back, closing your eyes in quiet exhaustion.

When you arrived at his house, he was there again, unbuckling your seatbelt and guiding you to the door with steady care.

“I’ll grab you some water and Ibuprofen. Why don’t you head upstairs and get ready for bed?”

You nodded in gratitude, your body heavy with fatigue as you slowly made your way up the stairs. Once inside his room, you went straight to the dresser, where you always kept a few pairs of pajamas for nights like this.

In his bathroom, your extra face wash, moisturizer, and toothbrush were neatly arranged….maybe people weren’t wrong to wonder if there was something more going on between you two.

Your hangover symptoms the next morning are what woke you up, head pounding and nausea. You opened your eyes, seeing Harry sitting up next to you, reading his book, shirtless.

“What a beautiful site to wake up to.” You groggily joked.

Harry looked up from his book, a quiet laugh escaping his lips as he marked his place and set the book aside. His eyes softened as he noticed you, his hand gently your messy hair away from your face.

“How’s your head feeling?” he asked, his tone low and soothing.

You let out a groan in response, your mind scrambling for some semblance of clarity. Slowly, fragments of last night came rushing back. The dim, pulsing lights of the club. The laughter. The dancing. You winced at the ache in your feet, a silent reminder of how long you'd been on your feet. And then, a sudden, jarring memory surfaced—one that made your stomach churn in a different way.

“Wait… did I really agree to go on a date today?” You asked, barely believing it yourself.

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle, his fingers still gently massaging your scalp as he looked at you with a mixture of affection and amusement.

“You did,” he said, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You groaned again, sinking deeper into the pillow, willing the world to stop spinning. “Jeez, I can’t even remember the last five minutes, let alone a date,” you muttered, half to yourself.

Harry’s chuckle turned into a laugh as he shifted closer to you, his thumb brushing lightly over your temple in a comforting rhythm.

"I think you’re going to be just fine," Harry teased, his voice still soft with affection. "But I’m not gonna lie... I am interested to see how this date goes. Since you've been avoiding dating for so long"

"Yeah, well, let’s just say I’m not expecting anything amazing," you sighed, stretching your arms above your head.

Later that day, you found yourself standing in front of your full-length mirror, nervously adjusting your outfit. You weren’t exactly thrilled about the date, but you didn’t want to look like you didn’t care either. You settled on a simple black dress—something that was easy but still flattering.

You took a deep breath. It wasn’t as if you had something better to do. You could always call Harry afterward to complain about how terrible it went.

You arrived at restaurant where Elijah had suggested you meet. It had that typical artsy vibe—exposed brick walls, vintage furniture, and food that probably cost more than it should have. As you walked in, you spotted Elijah immediately.

He looked up as you approached, a confident, almost smug smile spreading across his face. “Ah, you made it,” he said, standing to greet you.

"Of course," you replied, offering a smile.

"So, what do you like to do?" Elijah leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the table, his gaze more smug than ever. "What’s your thing? What are you into?"

The question hung in the air, a little too casually thrown at you. You hesitated for a moment, then smiled politely. "Well, I enjoy a bit of everything. Not really an expert in anything, though. I like books, music… anything creative, really."

He waved a hand dismissively, clearly not too interested in your response. “That’s nice. But honestly, I think everyone has their own version of what ‘creativity’ means. I think it’s just one of those things that gets watered down by society’s need to put things in boxes.”

You nodded, trying not to laugh at how seriously he was taking his own thoughts. The guy was talking in circles, as if he had an actual dissertation on his mind.

At some point during the evening, you realized that Elijah wasn’t going to ask about you or show any real interest in anything about your life. He kept dropping vague hints about how "complicated" he was, how misunderstood artists like himself had to suffer for their brilliance, and how he was just waiting for the world to catch up with him.

The only thing that really seemed to get him talking was his apparent admiration for himself.

Eventually, the awkwardness started to wear off, and he invited you to his apartment. Not that you were expecting anything from it—but you hadn’t been with anyone in a while, and the loneliness was starting to hit.

The two of you ended up sitting on your couch, sipping wine, your conversation moving toward more personal topics. It felt... comfortable, even though you knew it wasn’t exactly what you'd been hoping for. Still, you found yourself kissing him a little while later, your mind racing with that familiar nervous excitement.

Things moved quickly, and before you knew it, you were in his arms, both of you tangled up in each other in the dimly lit space of your apartment.

Time passed—minutes, hours, it was hard to tell. Eventually, you found yourself at the door, your dress wrinkled and your head spinning.

"Stay. Please," Elijah urged, his eyes softening slightly as he leaned in closer. “We could talk more. I really want to see you again.”

You bit your lip, your thoughts muddled. But, remembering the hours of excruciating conversation, you knew you needed to leave. "I have work in the morning," you said, even though it wasn’t true. The lie slipped out before you could even think about it.

Elijah’s face fell slightly, but he nodded. "Well, I guess that’s alright. But next time… Let’s make sure we have more time."

You smiled softly, but your mind was already elsewhere, already home and away from him.

You stepped out into the cool night air, pulling your coat tightly around your shoulders, feeling that familiar sense of discomfort slowly sink in. The date had been a total bust, and you couldn’t help but feel the sting of regret.

At home, after a quick shower to wash off the lingering feelings of awkwardness, you picked up your phone and texted Harry, hoping that he’d be up for a late-night rant.

"Can I come over to vent? This date was so annoying."

You didn’t have to wait long before his reply popped up. "Of course, pretty girl."

And so, you drove over, already thinking about how you were going to explain all the cringey moments to Harry, secretly hoping he wouldn’t say, “I told you so."

“You look like you had a blast,” Harry remarked dryly, opening the door for you.

You suppressed the urge to launch into a full rant. “Oh, yeah, great time,” you replied with equal sarcasm.

You both collapsed onto the couch— you sprawled out, Harry sitting up beside you like you were about to start a therapy session. Without missing a beat, you let the floodgates open.

“He literally talked about himself the entire time,” you began, voice dripping with frustration. “He asked me what I like to do, and as soon as I told him, he started lecturing me on his ‘interpretation of creativity.’ And it didn’t stop. For the entire date.”

Harry grinned, clearly entertained, as you continued your rant, eyes narrowing as you remembered every detail.

“And every conversation has to be this deep, philosophical, soul-searching dive— like, ‘We’re just floating on a ball in space,’ you know? The kind of thing you'd hear from the most insufferable kid in a first year psych class.”

You huffed, running a hand through your hair as the memory played in your mind. “Do you want me to continue?” You looked up at Harry. “It gets a little…18+.”

Harry's jaw slightly clenched, but he let out a chuckle. “Oh really? His personality wasn’t enough of a red flag?” He teased you, you burst out into laughter.

“Okay, okay, you have no right to judge, we’re both victims of making bad decisions when we’re horny.” You joked.

“Mm, I don’t know, I would’ve left after the ‘We’re just floating on a ball in space’ comment.”

“First of all, he didn’t actually say that…..that was just his vibe.” You corrected, both of you continuing to laugh. “And second of all, I KNOW you still would have slept with him, especially if you hadn’t been with anyone in four months.” You reminded him.

“Oh would I? No amount of horniness would have even made me go back to that type of person’s house.”

“You’re a liar. “ you said, dying of laughter. “Do I have to remind you of that girl you slept with, the one who kept saying ‘actually’ in front of very compliment, that you hated? ‘You’re actually funny. You’re actually kind of cute. You’re actually smart. What was her name? Lily? Lucy?”

“It was Laura.” He sheepishly corrected you

“And if I remember correctly, it wasn’t just one night, even after she described your sex as ‘actually good’, so I don’t want any judgment from you.” He surrendered, and let you continue.

“I’ll spare you the intimate details…I’ll just say, I didn’t necessarily leave satisfied.”

“Did you finish?”

“He finished. I didn’t.”

“Y/N.” He titled his head towards you in disbelief.

You stayed silent, almost trying to hide a smile out of embarrassment. He shook his head in disapproval.

“This is why I don’t go on dates. All I got was a shitty dinner and I still haven’t had a non-self inflicted orgasm in 4 months.”

He held his arm out as an invitation to invite you closer to him. Accepting his invitation, you leaned against him, head resting on his shoulder.

“Did you go home and…help yourself?” He asked, rubbing your back in consolation.

“No! I went home, took a shower, and then came straight here!” He chuckled, pulling you into his lap, making you straddle him.

“You don’t have to end the night unsatisfied,” he teased, his voice low with a playful edge.

“You promised no judgment,” you laughed, giving his shoulder a gentle shove. His silence, paired with the look in his eyes, made it clear he wasn’t entirely joking.

“I’m just saying... there’s an easy fix,” he replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Both of you laughed, though the underlying seriousness in your tones couldn’t be ignored.

“An easy fix? Like what?” you asked, your voice dropping slightly, the flirtation slipping into your words.

“Well, let’s say you wanted to,” He guided you off his lap, sitting you next to him. “You could lay down right here.”

You lowered your back onto the couch, your heart pounding harder than ever.

“Is this okay?” He clarified. You nodded and he continued. “I could come up here, make you feel better.” He crawled up to your neck, laying kisses along your neck, down to your collarbone.

He kneeled down on the ground in front of the couch. His hand shifted down to the button of your pants, slowly unbuttoning them and lowering them down your leg.

“You're in control here. Anytime you want to stop or do something else, you let me know, I want to make you feel good.” Your chest quickly moved up and down and you hummed in acknowledgment.

He grabbed your leg, placing it on one of his shoulders, kissing the other leg until he got to your inner thigh. Before he could continue you grabbed the ends of your top, quickly pulling it off to reveal your bra. Harry gave you a cheeky smile before he continued.

He kissed the insides of your thighs, sucking the delicate skin until a string of tiny purple bruises dotted your thighs.

“Please, Harry.” You whined in an impatient tone.

His eyes shot up to your face. “What do you need, sweet thing?”

“Everything. Your tongue. Your fingers. Please…please Harry.” The eagerness that had been building up in you for the past four months started to come up all at once.

“You need to learn patience, baby.” He teased you, lightly grazing his lips along your inner thigh. Finally, he grabbed your underwear and helped you out of them.

He planted his lips over your clit, expertly curling his tongue around the swollen area and flicking until your hips bucked. His arms curled around your thighs, pulling you to him and splaying a hand over your stomach to keep your hips still. He flattened his tongue against your clit to give you the pressure that you desperately craved.

“You’re so beautiful, bunny. So wet. Is this all for me?”

You hastily nodded, unable to speak.

Your hand tugged hard on his hair as his tongue worked delicately hard across your clit. Harry took one last look at your flushed face before moving his fingers at a punishing pace, driving you closer and closer to the edge. He could tell that you were holding back a bit, since you two had been friends for a while, yet this was your first interaction past a simple cuddle. He lifted his mouth from you.

“It’s alright, sweet thing. I got you, I want to make you feel good.”

He went back to pleasuring you, his ability to make you feel this good felt so natural. You focused on him, trying to push any nerves to the back of your head. His hand that rested on your stomach grabbed your hand, wrapping his fingers around your hand, giving you a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

A shudder rippled through your body and a deep moan erupted from your throat as you came around his fingers. Harry focused on you, helping you ride out your orgasm.

He climbed back up to you, sweeping your hair from your face and kissing your forehead, your nose, and your cheeks. “It’s okay, sweet baby.” He cood, your eyes stayed closed as you catched your breath.

You mindlessly pulled him closer to you, hiding your face in his neck, needing immediate aftercare after your powerful orgasm.

“Wanna go upstairs…an-help you.” You breathlessly begged, kissing his neck and lowering your hand down his abdomen.

“Okay sweet thing, let’s go upstairs.”

[read part two here!] [read a prequel blurb here!]

[greengoblinswifey]

hii ! could you write a story about like nicholas chavez as a doctor x fem patient smut, I've been trying to find a good story like this but I literally can't 😭😭

much love !!

summary— you’re referred to Dr. Chavez at the hospital due to a misdiagnosis. one of your symptoms include intense, unrelenting arousal and as your doctor, it’s his job to help make you better in any way he can.

warnings— female masturbation, voyeurism, abuse of power, fingering, body worship, oral, degrading kink, praise kink, public sex kinda(hospital), unprotected sex, sir kink, ass slapping, choking(with tie), erotic asphyxiation, use of doctor during sex, slight manipulation if you squint, aftercare.

a/n— i’d love if you guys send requests, reblog and comment☺️

After a recent misdiagnosis left you frustrated and your symptoms worsening, you were referred to Dr. Chavez. Though he seemed slightly irritated about having to “fix someone else's mess,” he introduced himself with a polite but distant professionalism. He stood before you, impeccably dressed in a white coat over a crisp suit and tie, every detail in place. He was calm, collected, and intensely focused as he started going over your symptoms.

When you finally mentioned the most embarrassing one, the constant, nearly unbearable arousal, you noticed his reaction, a slight widening of his eyes, and a pause in his typing. “And, uh, how often would you say this happens?” he asked, his voice steady but his gaze flickering with something unreadable.

“Constantly doctor,” you admitted, cheeks flushing. “I’m always horny, sometimes it’s painful. Like, I just can’t think straight, or focus on anything else.”

After ordering several tests, he told you they’d need to monitor you at the hospital. This only intensified your frustration, the more time you spent in his presence, the worse your symptoms felt, in particular your constant arousal. You tried to distract yourself by prying into his life, probing the doctor with questions. You noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, which made your mind spin even more.

Hours turned to days, and your symptoms didn’t let up. You felt more tired, the frustration mounting as medical staff came in and out of your room. Privacy was nearly impossible, leaving you with no room to release the growing arousal that only got worse.

One night, after another round of exhausting tests, the hallway was finally quiet. You were alone. You couldn’t help yourself, the relief you craved was all you could think about. Without any other means as your vibrator had long since been forgotten at home, you let your fingers slide down, imagining Dr. Chavez’s calm voice, his firm hands. You closed your eyes, stifling a moan, picturing him standing over you, his gaze intense.

You flipped the sheets off you and hiked up the hospital gown they draped you in. Still not satisfied, you ripped your underwear off and spread your legs, your fingers frantically rubbing your clit then slipping into your sloppy hole. Soft moans filled the room as your head was swarming with thoughts of Dr. Chavez being the one to make you feel good.

Just then, the door clicked open, and there he was, clipboard in hand, looking caught off guard. He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the way you quickly pulled your hand back. He cleared his throat. “I came to check on you,” he said, his tone layered with something more than just professional concern.

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “Doctor, I—it's been so hard, I couldn’t help myself.”

For a moment, he lingered there, eyes locked on yours, before he shook himself slightly. “It’s part of my job to ensure you’re comfortable and to help you,” he replied, voice slightly rougher, eyes not quite meeting yours as he jotted something down on the clipboard.

You looked at him, unable to hold back the desperation any longer and you noticed the dent in his pants. “Well help me, doctor,” you whispered, voice thick with need. “Can you do something to make it go away? Please give me something, anything to make it stop.”

He stopped in his tracks, his already intense gaze darkening as he absorbed your words. “Beg,” he commanded, his voice dropping to a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Please, doctor,” you said, voice trembling, willing yourself to keep his attention. “Please help me, I need you to fix me, make me feel better.”

A dark chuckle slipped from him as he locked the door behind him, his fingers throwing off his tie and shrugging off his coat. He then stood right before you, his eyes sweeping over your form.

Without another word, he reached out, his fingertips barely grazing over your thigh as he leaned in close. “Needy, aren’t you?” he murmured with a smirk. His fingers teased, trailing down until they brushed against your pussy, his touch almost unbearably light.

“Please, Dr. Chavez,” you pleaded again, breath catching as his fingers lingered at the edges of your need. “Please, sir.”

His smile only widened as he took in your reaction, and without another moment’s hesitation, he knelt down before you. His hands were firm under your thighs and then his mouth was on your leaking pussy, a loud moan leaving you as he began. His focus was unrelenting, and you couldn’t contain your whimpers, each one drawing him in closer.

Every sound you made seemed to fuel him, his hands gripping you tighter, his touch sending you higher.

“Yes that’s it sir, don’t stop,” you whimpered, your hands going to his hair as you held him close and moved your pussy all over his mouth.

“Mm- you taste so fucking good, so fucking desperate for me aren’t you,” he hummed, in between licks.

He continued, now slipping a finger inside you and sucking on your clit, until, you arched your back off the bed and felt yourself let go, a sensation so intense you squirted and felt your pussy and your whole body quivering from it all.

His eyes met yours, a smirk on his lips. “You were so desperate, weren't you?” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “Glad I could help.”

You leaned in and placed a sloppy kiss on his lips, savoring your own delectable taste.

“Hm,” Dr. Chavez paused, his lips still mere inches away from you, “based on my observations, I’ve come to the conclusion that you still need my help. You still need me to make you better, so I have to put my dick inside you sweetheart, I just have to.”

You nodded almost mindlessly, leaning into his touch, his mere presence was intoxicating. Though you got the relief you wanted, having him so close to you brought you back to square one. Your pussy was still leaking.

Breathlessly, he unbuckled his pants, the sight before you making you drool like a dog in heat. He slipped himself out, revealing a long, thick and rock hard cock you would do anything to feel inside you.

“God, look at you,” he said, licking his lips and pumping his cock, “tell me how bad you want me, how bad you want this dick.”

“Please sir, I want you so bad, I need you to fuck me. please help me,” you panted, desperation evident in your voice.

“That’s a good girl, my patients are always so obedient.” He grabbed your hair, bringing you down to his cock’s level and thrusted into your mouth.

“Worship this cock,” he demanded, his voice sounding strained as he tried to contain his moans.

“Fuck, I love your cock doctor, it tastes so good, I- mm, need it so fucking bad,” you said, in between having his dick brush your tonsil. You slurped and moaned as you continuously gagged on the feeling of him being so deep in your throat. Reaching down, you played with your clit, desperate for some sort of relief.

“Hey, hey, no,” Dr. Chavez bellowed, “stop touching yourself. I’m your doctor and I know what’s best, I’ll help you with my dick inside you, those tiny little fingers won’t satisfy you. They won’t make you better.”

You whimpered in response but listened. He was your doctor after all, he knew best. He would never tell you anything that wasn’t accurate.

His moans grew breathy and louder but as soon as you felt his balls tighten, he pulled you off his cock by the hair and in a swift motion, you fell flat on the bed.

“S’gonna be okay sweetheart, my cock inside you is gonna make it all better.”

Just as swiftly, his cock pierced your pussy, slipping inside you and stretching you slowly. The stretch was burning as he groaned and pushed deeper but the feeling was soon replaced by immense pleasure.

“Oh god, you’re so fucking wet, sloppy fucking pussy you’ve got huh,” he moaned, chuckling.

Your face was contorted in pleasure, looking up at your doctor as he pounded into you, the feeling better than anything else you’d ever experienced in your life. Your moans willed him on and his thrusts became more frantic as he felt your pussy grip and tighten around him.

“That’s it baby, this desperate little pussy can’t get enough of her doctor’s cock, gripping me so tight like she doesn’t wanna let me go.” A sob left your lips due to the intensity of it all and soon, you wrapped your legs around his waist, gripping on to him for dear life as you squirted on his cock.

“Good girl, that’s my needy fucking whore, let it all out.”

Small whimpers filled the hospital room as you slowly came down from your high, but you were still needy, your body grinding against him sending even more jolts of pleasure through you.

“M-more, please sir, just one more,” you begged tears in your eyes.

“Jesus Christ baby, you’re a fucking desperate whore aren’t you, God, you just can’t get enough of my cock.”

Your lips quivered and you knew you were being desperate but you didn’t care, all you cared about was your release just one more time. Just once and you’d be okay for the next few days. You needed it quick, the commotion was surely to make a nurse come wandering soon.

“I just— oh,” your sentence was cut short as he easily flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your ass up to him and slipped inside your wet pussy once more. You spread your legs and arched your back, needing him as deep inside you as he could go.

“That’s it baby, spread this fucking pussy.” He slapped your ass harshly and soon you felt something slip around your neck. It was his tie. He slipped the tie around your neck, not enough to restrict your airflow too much, but just enough to have your head spinning and only the thought of his cock in it.

“Take it, take this fucking dick. You were so desperate for it, now you have it.” A small cry left your lips as you felt him repeatedly hit your g spot.

“Oh you fucking love it, you love your doctor’s cock deep inside your wet fucking pussy don’t you, whore,” he inquired, pulling you back to his chest by the tie around your neck.

“Y- yes, I love it sir,” you managed to croak out.

“Good girl, because as long as you’re here and under my care, you’re gonna get this dick every fucking night. Every fucking time you’re needy and desperate my cock is gonna be here to fill this pussy.”

His words sent you over the edge and your body convulsed under his touch as you squirted. He continued fucking you through your high but you couldn’t take anymore. You squirmed away from him, your pussy somehow still gushing and he quickly pulled out, releasing his warm cum all over your back.

“Fucking hell, your pussy is just gushing,” he moaned, as he pumped his cock, milking himself of everything onto your back.

Your body was so weak you could barely form words as you tried to thank him for making you feel better.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, it’s my job to help you.” He shushed you then went to the bathroom, bringing back a cloth to clean you up and get you back into your underwear and fix your gown. He didn’t need anyone coming to check and seeing you in that state.

He kissed your forehead, caressing your body as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

“It’s okay baby, go to sleep, your doctor’s gonna always be here to make you feel better.”

[roturo]

HERE ME OUT

Toji, Gojo, Megumi (choose one, i dont mind) realize spanking isnt doing much for a punishment anymore (youre enjoying it too much) so they come up with other ideas

ex. watching you get fucked by a fuck machine in a mirror while u cum over n over begging for the real thing, seeing how many sex toys you can get away with wearing in public, switching between making you cum over n over to not letting you cum every hour or something ALL NIGHT, etc

BRAT - JJK MEN

warnings: smut, overstimulation, semi-public sex, edging, ice cube play, cunnilingus, slapping, pussy slapping, degradation, spanking, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, dumbification, sub-space, dom/sub dynamics, humiliation, bondage, bdsm, handcuffing, use of vibrator, throat bump, tummy bump (idk how it's called), bratty reader, objectification, jealousy, mirror sex, breeding, unprotected sex, penis in vagina, there's more warnings but idk.

Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro & Sukuna.

Gojo Satoru

He first realized spanking you as a punishment isn’t working when your bratty remarks started becoming more usual after 3 or 4 spanks, you moaned at the feeling and teased him even more for him to do it again. 

To say he’s angry at this is an understatement, because he hates brats. Hates not having control, and your behavior being the last drop of breaking was all he needed to give you a real punishment.

You thought he was being mean? Oh no, he was being nice right now.

You pull on his white locks and the only answer you receive is a disapproval grunt from him. You sob, so overwhelmed and tired, but you can't deny how good his tongue feels on your naked core.

The feeling of his tongue abusing your overstimulated hole had you feeling dizzy, but the vibratory he had on his hand teasing your swollen nub made the pleasure more unbearable than before. 

He already got two orgasms out of you, one with his fingers patting gently your sweet spot and the other by sucking avidly on your clit while he fingered you and used the vibratory to tease your other hole. You don't remember which one came first and maybe they both happened at the same time. You don't really know.

And the worst thing of all? You were in a public space. 

You never noticed he brought a vibrator, it's like he knew you were looking for this, for a punishment, but he also knows you don’t see spanking as a punishment anymore, so he had a change of plans.

You were a little bit too flirty with Nanami tonight, he couldn’t take it, so when he saw you going to the restroom he didn’t care it seemed so obvious, he followed you behind.

Your pleas for him to stop went to deaf ears, not taking care in the world and not having any hint of stopping this.

You already had your makeup messed up, you’re sure about that, tears coming out your eyes, smudged lipstick, messy hair, he made sure for everyone to know he fucked the soul out of you. Making visible hickeys on your neck, he wanted to humiliate you.

And if like that wasn’t enough, once he finished he left the vibratory inside of you, so when the both of you walked out, not only everyone knew you two fucked at the restroom, but they’ll know you’re struggling to even talk or walk.

“Ah-ah, you acted like a bitch, i’ll treat you like one.”

Geto Suguru

This man is RUTHLESS. He would tie up your arms and legs on the bed so you can’t move. Using an ice cube toy tease your body, saying is “what you deserve for being too fucking horny all the time” 

The vibrator inside of you wouldn’t stop at any moment, making you come with no break, his tongue playing with your nipples, licking your tummy while going down on you till he found your clit. Grabbing another ice cube and tracing near your cunt.

He would spit on you or slap your pussy every time you told him to stop, making you even a messier moaning mess. His words would be hard too, not accepting any type of bratty behavior coming out of you, it’s what you earned.

He was angry, he couldn’t contain watching you dance with another man, knowing he was right there. You aren’t anything serious, yet, but he makes sure for everyone to know you’re his.

You felt dizzy, coming into subspace once he finished giving you your last orgasm of the night. Needing some time more to adapt to your surroundings. He made sure to cum in your stomach once he felt he couldn’t contain it anymore, and that’s when he knew he had to stop.

Because this man has self-control, he wanted to prove a point and he made sure of doing it. Treating you like a slut. Fucking you like a slut.  You’re no one’s slut but his.

Toji Fushiguro

He’s the opposite of Geto, he’ll make sure to have all the pleasure for himself and just him.

You were about to cum? too bad, because he’s the one coming, not you. He would even edge himself just to make sure you don’t come. Using you like a fucking toy in front of his mirror, pinching your nipples and biting your shoulders.

Your pussy would be so full of him you could even feel a small bump in your tummy, filling you up with his cum, the slickness of it making it easier for him to thrust into you.

Every time he touched your g-spot with his cock, you were almost screaming, begging for release. Every time you close your eyes he would grab you by the chin, threaten to not let you cum for 30 minutes more if you close them again.

Wetting his fingers with your liquids and mostly his cum just to insert them in your mouth. “You want to feel that too, huh? You want to taste yourself too?”

Nodding your head like you could, trying to say yes but every time you opened up your mouth a moan came out of it, just being able to call his name and little ‘please’

But he just laughed at how fucked up you look right now, continuing thrusting into you, one of his arms wrapping around your waist while the other one grabs you by your throat, making sure you’re looking at the two of you in the mirror.

Depending on how good you behave, he’ll decide if he’ll let you cum or not. You might spend the whole night without coming until the next time both of you have sex, thrusting you to make this punishment again if you cum without him.

Megumi Fushiguro (My man, my husband, my boyfriend)

He wouldn’t show he was angry at you, noticing you were enjoying the slaps on your ass, he just suddenly stopped. Analyzing what he should do.

Your smirk disappeared once you heard the silence, not feeling his hands on your ass. Looking through your shoulder, you found a blank face megumi looking at you

You were laying down on his lap and the couch, your ass displayed for him while he manhandled you. You were about to ask what’s wrong until he pulled you by the hair looking at your face before he switched positions, you’re now sitting on his lap.

With his cursed energy, some snakes came from the shadows and made sure he grabbed you by the wrists, putting them on your back so the snakes could simulate a handcuff.

Megumi is a silent man.

But this silence felt really different from the others, his dark blue orbs seemed almost black, his gaze showing no emotion other than seriousness.

He grabbed you by the armpits and positioned you on the floor, kneeled in front of him, while you watched him unbuckle his pants.

Lowering down enough his pants and boxers so his cock was displayed, pinkish tip with a small pearl coming out of his tip, a vein coming from the base on the left side, and slightly curved.

“Open your dirty mouth slut.” 

You did as he said, and he wasted no time in inserting his cock inside of you, giving you and your poor throat no time to adjust while he bobbed your head.

Your nose touching his pelvic bone, his free hand traveled down your face until he felt your throat, a small bump appearing and disappearing each time he thrusted inside of you.

A smirk appeared on his face while he groaned and left small whimpers at the pleasure of using you like a cum dump.

He has a lot of stamina, he doesn’t give up for nothing, not on a fight, not on smacking your bratty face out of your sight.

He felt that tingly feeling on his stomach, ready to cum, with just some more thrusts he dumped strips of cum inside your mouth.

You coughed a little, sore throat, trying to regain your posture when his cock left your mouth, it was still rock hard.

“Don’t have big hopes i’m going to fuck your pussy, i’ll continue fucking your mouth till you can’t even speak.”

Sukuna.

He has you sitting on his lap while he’s on his throne. Different mouths coming out of his body, one on his pelvic bone playing with your nub while he bounces you on both of his cocks. Feeling so full of him, you swear you couldn’t even talk, moans and whimpers only coming out of you.

His head was resting in one of his hands, while two of them were gripping your tits with a mouth on them while they sucked your nipples.

“You fucking brat.”

He would sometimes groan everytime your cunt clenched around his cock, or when he felt one of your holes a little bit too tight.

He had you cumming for him for 5 times now, not stopping his movements any time soon, bouncing you up and down on his cocks while he admired your body and face.

Tears staining your blushed cheeks, sweat covering your whole body, purple marks adorning your body and a bite on your shoulder from the first time he came.  Your sore and sensitive nipples bouncing in front of him, little begs and pleads coming out of you.

And all because you didn’t want to take your punishment like a good girl and challenged him with your bratty behavior.

You looked fucked up, not any kind of thinking behind your eyes, not even words to say, you were completely defenseless, used like a toy.

“If only you behaved like a good girl I would treat you like one. But right now you’re just my little whore to play with. I can stay here all night watching you lose your sanity and body control to me.”

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds (2)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst!! More pining and yearning

a/n: Here is part two! I love writing this little series :) There will definitely be more! let me know what you think ♡♡

Part 1, Part 3

~~

Sometimes you hated being a scholar. 

There were plenty of upsides to having such a cushy job, especially when your employer was the high lord himself. You got paid generously, got free access to the best libraries, and never had to pay rent. Millions of fae would kill to have your position. 

But as Cassian punched you in the ribs—for the third time—you found yourself questioning your role within the night court’s inner circle.

“Okay,” you breathed out, hunching over with a hand cradling your side. “Okay, please, Cass. Can we take a break?” 

Unfortunately, Cassian didn’t appreciate quitters. So, your feet were abruptly swept from under you and your back made contact with the floor. With a soft oof, the wind was knocked from your lungs. 

“C’mon, y/n, you’re better than that. I know you are.” 

You responded with a wheeze, blinking into the pale sun. 

This morning had been rough.

You’d been having some trouble sleeping, but that wasn’t necessarily unusual. Being alive for so long meant you had seen quite a few things, so nightmares came and went with the tide. You were going through a rough patch with them at the moment, and the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with you.

“You planning on laying there for the rest of the day?” Cassian asked, his large silhouette coming to block the light. 

You squinted up at him. “Maybe.” 

“Yeah, not happening.” 

You fought back a whine as the Illyrian pulled you up by your shoulders and steadied you. He nodded, giving you a moment to ready yourself back into position, and then bent his knees. Gods, you were going to be so sore later. 

It didn’t take long for you to end up on the floor again, this time on your stomach. Your chin cracked against the padded ring, your teeth snapping together at the impact. The sound made your brain vibrate as you rolled onto your side and held your temple. 

Cassian crouched down to the floor beside you and you could make out his worried brow amidst the shakiness of your vision. 

“What’s going on with you?” He brought his hand up to brush against your already bruising jaw. “We’ve been working on that move for weeks. You had it a few days ago.” 

You breathed through your nose and tried not to groan at the ache rolling through your body. “I think I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping very well.” 

At that, Cassian plopped down to a seat, keeping a hand at your elbow as you brought your own body up to mirror his. 

“You want to talk about it?” he questioned. 

“There isn’t much to say. I can’t remember them this time. It’s kind of strange—usually I remember them too much and that’s what makes it worse.” 

Cassian hummed in contemplation. He was always the one you went to the morning after a sleepless night. Cassian would listen as you talked through your nightmares, and you would do the same for him. He was a logical pillar in your life. 

But it was always Azriel you went to in the midst of them. You never talked about what you saw and he never asked. But it was always Azriel in the middle of the night. His shadows were a comfort in the pitch black and he was always quick to wrap his wings around you when it became too hard to breathe. 

You hadn’t gone to him these last few times.

The fact that you couldn’t remember your dreams was an unfortunate factor. Because if you knew what was causing you to wake up in a cold sweat every night, at least then you could talk about it. Or take a moment to rationalize. 

There was no rationalizing when the only thing you had to go off of was fear and hurt. 

“What does Azriel think?” Cassian asked after a small lapse in silence.

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, when you go to his room at night. What does he have to say about you not remembering?” 

You scoffed. And then scoffed again. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, I barely do that.” 

Cassian stared at you with a blank expression. “So we’re still doing that then. Got it.” He heaved himself up from the ground and then yanked you up alongside him.

“Still doing what?” you asked, trailing behind him as he reached for his canteen. He didn’t answer you, favoring the long gulps of water he was taking. You waited for him to finish and then asked again. He chose to unwrap his knuckles instead. “Cassian.” 

The man sighed. “Nothing, y/n. It’s just… It wasn’t a secret that you would go to his room after you had a rough night. Why do you think I never dragged you out here those mornings?” You cringed at his words. He shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Why do you hide it?” 

You didn’t have a good reason—well, you didn’t used to. You’d always sneak out of his room after the sun rose and never bring it up again. And there was never a solid explanation for why you evaded the topic. You knew Azriel would never hold it against you and you weren’t embarrassed for others to know that you sought out comfort in a friend. It just seemed like something you should keep to yourself. 

Now, though—now there was a good reason to wipe your actions from memory. To pretend they never happened and to never repeat them. 

“Cassian, Elain is my friend. Even if I did that in the past—in a friendly way—it would be wrong now.” 

A muscle in Cassian’s jaw twitched. “Right. Have you ever actually talked to Elain about her feelings?” 

“I don’t need to.” You reached down for your own water, ignoring the twinge in your side and the pulsing in your head. “She never stops talking about him. And they’re always together. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already seeing each other.” 

“Who’s seeing each other?” 

The cool tone of Azriel’s voice washed over you and you whipped around to find him standing at the foot of the training ring, blades in hand. 

A nervous laugh fell from your lips and you fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. “Um, no one, just some friends I know.” 

“Who?” he asked again. 

“Oh, you don’t know them. Old friends.” 

The Shadowsinger raised a brow, sending Cassian a fleeting look. “I thought I knew all of your friends.” 

“You don’t. I know way more people than you. Even though you're older than me. Not by that much, though. Have you talked to Elain lately?” Words were spewing from your mouth in the worst combinations. You were never nervous around Azriel. What in the cauldron was wrong with you?

Azriel’s raised brow turned into a furrowed one and he blinked, assessing your face with a scrutinizing gaze. “Do you have a concussion?” He turned the Cassian, expression going from confused to provoked. “Did you give her a concussion?” 

“Honestly, maybe.” 

“I don’t have a concussion,” you rushed out, cutting off Cassian’s admission. “I was just leaving though. I’m tired. You guys can fight each other.” 

There was so much sudden pent-up energy inside of you that you had no intention of sleeping, but just seeing Azriel made you feel like you were intruding on something. Which was absurd. Azriel was your friend and had been your friend for centuries. Just because he loved Elain didn’t mean you had to avoid him. 

But this energy had to come from somewhere, and that somewhere was telling you to avoid him like the Illyrian flu. 

Making a break for it, you freed yourself from the training ring and attempted to skate past Azriel with a quick side smile, but he apparently had other plans. He caught your wrist as you walked past, glancing up at a “preoccupied” Cassian before turning to you with his wing out, giving the illusion of a private conversation. 

“You’re not sleeping well?” he asked, voice low. 

You warped your smile into one that met both sides of your mouth. “I’m okay.” 

Shadows crept over his shoulders and along his ears. His expression shifted and pinched and then returned neutral. “You know you can come to me if you need it.” 

“I’m okay, Az. Really.” 

“Would you tell me if you weren’t?”

Maybe before. 

“I’m a paper pusher, Az. I’m not out in the throes of battle,” you jested, scrunching your nose as you smiled up at him. “Nothing is that serious for me.” 

A lie. Something was that serious—serious enough to keep you up at night for the past week—but you couldn’t figure out what it was. 

“That is not what I asked,” he countered, sliding his hand up from your wrist to turn your chin. “You need to ice your jaw. Cassian shouldn’t be so rough with you.” 

“I’m okay,” you said again, words a pathetic repetition because your heart was beating so fast now and you needed to leave. Something was pulling at your chest and you needed to leave. 

“As you’ve said,” Azriel muttered, his fingers brushing down along the column of your throat. When his eyes flickered up and met your own, something inside of you lost its alignment.

You looked away before the feeling could return. Everything righted itself. You took a wobbly step back. 

“Have a good training session.” 

You turned on your heel and stalked away, feeling equal parts the betrayer and the betrayed. 

~~

“You mean that girl off-continent? The one from a century ago?” 

Cassian hummed. “Yeah, her. What I wouldn’t give for a visit from her.” 

“You’re a pig,” Mor replied, a scoff sharp on her lips.

“She didn’t think so.” 

You were eavesdropping. You didn’t like to, but somehow, in the time you’d spent in the inner circle, you’d picked up the habit. Oops.

Technically, you weren’t really eavesdropping. You had been in the room first. It wasn’t your fault Cassian and Mor decided to speak very loudly with only a few shelves separating you. If they wanted privacy they should have checked the area. 

“Is it that hard for you to get laid? You have to search off-continent?” 

Cassian’s responding laugh was almost defensive. “I’m sure you’d love to know about my sex life.” 

“I really wouldn’t, actually. You brought it up.” Mor paused. You heard her shift on the lounge chair. “I am, however, interested in Azriel’s.” 

“Aren’t we all,” Cassian droned. “Pretty obvious that he doesn't have one at the moment. Hasn’t had one in a while.” 

You felt your neck jolt at the reveal of that information. Azriel always kept his partners discrete, but you’d always known he’d had them. Many of them. You had no idea who they were or where he met them, but you would hear the girls occasionally... smell their perfume on a few rare nights. 

“You think? This whole time?” Mor asked, curiosity raising her voice an octave. 

“Mor, I think the sight of other females makes him want to vomit.” 

The book in your lap was all but obsolete. 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” 

Cassian tsked. “I’m not. He’s told me.” 

“I suppose that’s what having a mate does to a person.” 

Your fingers became abnormally cold, the center of your chest caving slightly.

Azriel had a mate? No, he would have told you.

He would have told you. 

Mor’s sweet voice slammed against your ears, harsh despite its nature. “Do you think he’ll tell her soon?” 

Cassian’s reply had you standing on shaking knees. “Hope so. He’s so in love with her it's suffocating. You should see when—” 

You were out of the room in a wisp, sliding out the small back door. The book you’d been reading was still clutched in your frozen grip and you held it against your chest as breathing became impossible. With a hand pressed to the wall and your head hung low, you sucked in air, greedy for some type of reprieve. 

You were happy for him. You were so, so happy for him. 

Right? 

The book fell from your grip, clattering to the floor. The pages collapsed in on themselves as it fell face down, and you listened to the paper crumple as your throat closed. Both hands now pressed to the cold wall. Why were you freezing? 

This made sense. It made sense. 

Of course Azriel had a mate and of course it was… Elain? 

No, it couldn’t be Elain. Elain was Lucien’s mate. 

Now you were confused as well as consumed. Your body was left aching from training and your mind was in a frenzy and you couldn’t even understand why you were reacting the way you were. 

It was completely plausible that Azriel had a mate and didn’t tell anyone about it. He was a private male who kept his lovers to himself, so of course he would keep his mate to himself as well. But he did tell someone about it. He told Cassian. And Mor knew. 

Your fingernails dug into stone.

Azriel didn’t love you. 

The thought came on so suddenly that you almost looked over your shoulder. It was as if the words had been whispered in your ear by some cruel, vicious wind. 

You had never cared if Azriel loved you before, because you knew that he did love you. Like a sister. You were Azriel’s family and he was yours. 

But as the thought of Azriel having a mate invaded your mind once more, your shaky legs propelled you forward, running from the creased book and the hallway that contained all of the worst things. 

You ran until you couldn't, until your toes hit the edge of the balcony on the far side of the house and the cool air of winter hit your cheeks. You had been so cold inside, but somehow the breeze felt even colder across your skin. 

“Y/n?” 

You gasped, whipping around and gripping the railing as it pressed into your spine. You couldn’t formulate words as Azriel stood before you. His hands raised up to his waist, reaching for you as he took in the way your chest heaved.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he rushed. 

You only shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Embarrassment and confusion and a twisted sort of fear coursed through you. You couldn't look at him, afraid you would somehow see the bond connected to his chest—somehow notice things about him you hadn’t before. Maybe another shade of hazel in his eyes or a softness to his lips that you had never looked for. 

As you considered it now, it was obvious that you’d never let yourself look. 

Azriel was never supposed to be yours. 

“Talk to me, angel.” Azriel’s sweet whisper brushed against your skin. He was so close to you. You could feel him, but you refused to look. 

To see how everything had changed. 

“Let me fix it.” 

You heard the rush of wind from his wings as he expanded them outwards, followed closely behind by the whirling of his shadows, and it all clicked then. 

The images came quickly, dissipating just as fast. But they did their job, sending heavy, hot tears past the tight scrunch of your eyelids. 

Azriel with Elain. Azriel with Mor. Azriel with random, faceless women.

Him, in every iteration, with everyone that wasn’t you. 

That’s what had kept you up—the dreams plaguing your every resting moment. And you realized then that nothing had really changed at all. That you’d been in love with Azriel for longer than you’d been in love with anything. 

Your jaw trembled, your body rejecting the anguish that swept through you. Wind softly flowed from the west, swaying your skirts with a gentleness that made your breath shudder. That kind of gentleness was impossible. The world felt so cruel. 

“Y/n, tell me what happened. Should I get someone else?” Azriel pleaded. “Should I get Rhys?” 

Rhys could knock you out, and that would surely be a relief. You felt paralyzed by this overwhelming array of devastation. But Rhys would also have access to your thoughts. 

You shook your head. “No,” you said, but the word was lost in the wind. Azriel seemed to hear it anyway. “No, I want—I need to—go to sleep.” 

“You need to go to sleep?” He touched you now, something he seemed to have been avoiding. His hands came to rest behind your neck, thumbs at your jaw, and you pried your eyes open at the contact. You’d never seen the shadowsinger look so ruined, his hair askew, his eyes wild and panicked. “That doesn’t make any sense.” 

His expression was beseeching you for something you couldn’t give him. You hiccuped your next words out. 

“I’m—’m tired.” 

You wished you’d stayed oblivious. That you had never become privy to the depth of your feelings. 

This pain was immeasurable.

[chrissssssmut]

Bro I NEEED a IVE catgirl smut.

PURRING, PANTING, BEGGING (SMUT)

IVE x Male Reader

AN: I hope this one's good! The M reader def just gets the time of his life here XD. Also, happy to be able to put out another story! I'll def do your requests you guys!💗

It had been an exhausting day at work—another shift of paperwork, polite customer service smiles, and an overbearing boss breathing down your neck. You weren’t anything special, just another ordinary guy in a city that moved too fast for its own good. You sighed as you unlocked your apartment door, your body aching for the soft embrace of your bed.

But something was off.

Right before you could step inside, your eyes caught onto a small, unassuming box sitting right at your doorstep. There was no note, no indication of where it had come from. Your brows furrowed as you bent down, hesitating before lifting the lid.

Inside were cats.

Six of them.

Different colors, different sizes, all staring up at you with wide, unblinking eyes. Some meowed softly, one even tilted its head, but they all looked as if they had been waiting for you.

“Who...?” you muttered to yourself.

You glanced around the empty hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever had abandoned them, but there was no one. Just the faint creak of an elevator door closing in the distance. You sighed, rubbing your temple. This was not how you thought your night would go.

Yet, despite the weirdness of it all, you couldn’t just leave them there. You weren’t heartless. With careful hands, you lifted the box and brought it inside, setting it down in your living room.

“Well,” you exhaled, running a hand through your hair. “Guess I have roommates now.”

The next few days were filled with adjustment. The cats were oddly well-behaved, unlike the strays you’d encountered before. They didn’t scratch up the furniture, they didn’t hiss or fight over food, and they all seemed... too intelligent.

That wasn’t even the strangest part.

Each of them wore a lace collar with a name embroidered onto it in delicate cursive.

The sleek, elegant white cat had “Yujin” stitched onto a pristine ivory ribbon. A smaller tabby with golden fur bore the name “Rei.” The black one, the troublemaker, had a dark purple ribbon labeled “Leeseo.” Then there was a gray cat with a regal air named “Gaeul,” a soft brown one marked “Liz,” and a strikingly beautiful feline with a midnight-blue coat named “Wonyoung.”

You thought it was odd. Who abandons cats with name tags so well-crafted?

But you shook the thought away. Maybe some rich family had left them, unwilling to care for them anymore. Whatever the reason, they were yours now.

They followed you everywhere.

They watched you.

And sometimes, just sometimes, you swore you could hear something—whispers, laughter—just barely out of reach.

But you ignored it. Maybe you were just tired.

It happened one night, about a week after you’d taken them in.

You had come home late, tossing your bag onto the couch before heading straight to your bedroom. You collapsed onto the mattress, exhaling deeply.

Then you heard it.

Purring.

It came from under your bed, low and vibrating through the floorboards. A deep, rhythmic sound, steady and soothing, yet oddly human. You blinked against the dim glow of your bedside lamp, your drowsy mind slow to register the sound.

With a sleepy smile, you reached down, expecting to brush your fingers through soft fur, maybe scratch behind an ear.

Instead, warmth. Soft.

And then—

Lips.

Your breath hitched, the sensation jolting you awake like ice down your spine. Lips. Warm. Pressing gently against your fingertips.

Not fur. Not whiskers. Lips.

A slow, deliberate kiss.

Your hand recoiled as if burned, and you shot upright in bed, your heart slamming against your ribs. The purring hadn’t stopped. If anything, it grew louder, reverberating through the room like a low hum of satisfaction.

Your pulse thundered in your ears as you hesitantly peered over the edge of the bed.

And then—

Movement.

A pale hand, delicate fingers curling against the floor, nails dragging lightly against the wood. Then another. Then another. One by one, figures began to emerge from the darkness beneath your bed, their bodies unfolding like shadows stretching in the dim light.

You scrambled back against the headboard, your breath caught in your throat as you watched them crawl out—six girls, each one impossibly familiar. The white-haired one looked at you with knowing amusement, her eyes glinting like moonlight off fresh snow. The smallest of them giggled, her golden curls bouncing slightly as she tilted her head.

Your stomach twisted, your mind screaming at you to make sense of this. Because you knew them.

They were the cats.

No. That was impossible.

But there they were, kneeling at the foot of your bed, gazing up at you like they had been waiting for this moment. Their eyes glowed with something deep, something hungry.

“W-what the hell—”

Yujin—the elegant one, now with long white hair cascading over her shoulders—was the first to speak. “You’ve taken such good care of us.” Her voice was smooth, almost hypnotic. “We wanted to thank you.”

You tried to move, but your body felt frozen. “You—You’re the cats—”

Rei, the small one who had always curled up in your lap, giggled. “Mmm. We are. And we aren’t.”

One by one, they crawled closer, surrounding you. Their touches were soft, their warmth intoxicating. You could barely process what was happening when the first pair of lips pressed against yours.

A fleeting kiss.

Then another.

And another.

You shuddered, eyes darting between them, overwhelmed. “W-why—”

“You’re special,” Wonyoung whispered against your skin, her lips brushing your ear. “You didn’t throw us away. You didn’t ignore us. You cared.”

You swallowed hard. “Is this—Is this some kind of magic?”

Leeseo, the mischievous one, smirked. “Something like that.”

Your breath hitched as their lips met yours again, one after the other, each kiss sending an odd warmth through your body. Your mind screamed at you to run, to question, to do anything but sit there and take it.

But you didn’t move.

They wouldn’t let you.

And deep down, maybe a part of you didn’t want to.

Their hands were warm. Too warm. Soft fingertips traced patterns over your arms, your chest, the fabric of your shirt bunching under their slow, deliberate movements.

“Shhh,” Yujin cooed, her voice smooth as silk. “Don’t be nervous.”

Nervous? That was an understatement.

Rei giggled, her golden hair brushing against your cheek as she leaned in, lips grazing your jaw. “You’re trembling.”

Were you?

Your mind was screaming at you to move—to fight—but your body refused. You were trapped beneath their touch, surrounded by warmth and the faintest scent of something floral, something rich, something undeniably inhuman.

Wonyoung’s fingers ghosted over your collar, toying with the buttons of your shirt. “You took care of us so well,” she murmured, her lips just barely brushing against your throat. “Shouldn’t we return the favor?”

Before you could speak—before you could even think—Liz’s hands slid lower, tracing the hem of your pants. A slow, deliberate tug.

Your breath hitched.

Leeseo smirked. “Aw, look at him.”

“You’re so tense,” Gaeul whispered.

A delicate press of fingers against your waist. A teasing pull of fabric. The sensation of cool air hitting your skin as your pants were slowly—so agonizingly slowly—peeled away.

Yujin tilted your chin up, her smile sharp, predatory. “Relax.”

The room was suffocatingly warm. Maybe it was the way they pressed against you, their soft bodies caging you in, fingers tracing invisible lines over your skin. Or maybe it was the way they watched you—hungry, amused, like they were savoring every second of your unraveling.

Yujin was the first to move, her hand gliding up your chest, nails barely scraping over your skin. “Still so tense,” she murmured, her lips inches from yours.

Rei giggled beside you, her breath hot against your ear. “He’s trying so hard,” she whispered, the amusement in her voice unmistakable. Then—soft, deliberate—her teeth grazed your earlobe, a playful bite that sent a shiver straight down your spine.

You jerked slightly, a strangled noise escaping your throat before you could swallow it down.

“Oh?” Wonyoung smirked, her fingers toying with the waistband of your boxers. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

You opened your mouth—maybe to deny it, maybe to protest—but the words caught in your throat as Gaeul’s hand brushed lower, her touch featherlight over your stomach. Lower. Lower.

A slow, deliberate press of her fingers against your growing need.

You inhaled sharply, body tensing at the contact.

“Sensitive,” Liz hummed, dragging a single fingertip along your hip, her touch maddeningly light. “That’s cute.”

Leeseo tilted her head, eyes glinting with mischief as she propped herself up beside you. “Are you gonna keep pretending you don’t like this?”

Your breath was uneven, your mind struggling to keep up, to make sense of the heat pooling low in your stomach.

Rei giggled again, her lips still ghosting against your ear. “You’ve been so good to us,” she purred. “Don’t you think you deserve a reward?”

And then, as if to emphasize her words, Gaeul’s hand curled around your length—slow, deliberate, her grip just firm enough to make your body tense beneath her touch.

A quiet, satisfied hum left Yujin’s lips as she watched your reaction. “Much better,” she murmured. “Now just relax.”

But how could you?

When they weren’t going to stop until you completely fell apart.

You barely had time to process Gaeul’s touch before something shifted.

A sudden weight against your chest—Yujin, straddling you with effortless grace, her hands pressing down on your wrists, pinning you against the mattress. She wasn’t rough, not quite—but the way she smiled, slow and knowing, sent a shudder through your body.

“You’re so easy to handle,” she mused, tilting her head. “It’s cute.”

You swallowed hard, testing her grip, but she didn’t budge. If anything, her fingers tightened just slightly. Enough to remind you who was in control.

“You shouldn’t fight it,” Wonyoung murmured, her lips grazing your jawline. “Not when you want it this much.”

A soft breath left you—half denial, half something dangerously close to surrender.

And then—

A warm mouth.

Hot. Wet. Wrapped around the thickest part of you in a way that made your stomach clench.

Your breath hitched, eyes snapping downward just in time to see Rei’s golden curls bobbing slightly, her lips sealed around your aching need. She hummed softly, the vibration making your entire body tense.

“R-Rei—” Your voice broke, strangled.

She pulled back just slightly, her tongue flicking teasingly over the tip before glancing up at you with a smirk. “Mmm? Something wrong?”

Before you could answer—before you could even think—another mouth joined her.

Leeseo, the little troublemaker.

Her tongue traced along the underside of your length, slow and experimental, while Rei took the tip back between her lips, sucking lightly. The combined heat, the slickness of their mouths, was unbearable.

“Look at you,” Liz giggled, fingers skimming over your stomach, your chest. “You’re falling apart already.”

Yujin hummed in approval, her grip on your wrists unrelenting. “I knew you’d be fun.”

Gaeul and Wonyoung weren’t content to simply watch.

Wonyoung trailed her nails down your thigh, dragging them ever so lightly. “We should see how much he can handle.”

Gaeul smirked. “I don’t think he’ll last long.”

A sudden, deliberate squeeze at the base of your arousal—Gaeul’s fingers, firm and teasing. You gasped, your body twitching at the overwhelming mix of pleasure and restraint.

“You’re making the cutest sounds,” Leeseo cooed, flicking her tongue just beneath the tip, her breath warm and teasing.

Rei giggled, swirling her tongue before taking you deeper, her throat tightening around your length in a way that made your vision blur.

You clenched your fists against the sheets, your breath ragged.

Yujin tightened her grip on your wrists, pressing them further into the mattress as she leaned in, her lips just barely brushing against your ear. “Stop thinking so much,” she whispered, her voice smooth, intoxicating. “Just give in.”

Before you could even form a response, a sharp sting bloomed against your neck.

Teeth.

Your breath hitched as Wonyoung sucked against your skin, slow and deliberate, her tongue flicking over the spot before she pulled back with a satisfied hum. “Mmm. That’s a good look on you,” she murmured, tracing the fresh mark with her fingertips.

Gaeul followed suit, her lips trailing along your collarbone before biting down just hard enough to make you flinch. “We should cover him in them,” she mused, her breath warm against your skin. “Make sure everyone knows he’s ours.”

Liz giggled, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your chest, her teeth grazing before she latched on. “Don’t worry,” she murmured between kisses, “we’ll be gentle… maybe.”

Rei and Leeseo weren’t nearly as patient.

Rei tilted her head, admiring the marks forming across your skin. “He looks so pretty like this,” she cooed before biting down just beneath your jaw, her teeth sharper than expected.

Leeseo smirked, dragging her nails down your side. “I like seeing him squirm.”

Your breathing came in ragged, uneven bursts, your body trembling beneath them as they took their time, leaving their marks, staking their claim. Every kiss, every bite, sent another jolt of heat coursing through you, leaving you aching, needy, and utterly overwhelmed.

Yujin leaned back, admiring the sight of you beneath her. “Much better,” she murmured, tracing a possessive finger along the marks decorating your skin. “Now, let’s see how much more you can take.”

Yujin sank down onto you in one slow, deliberate motion, taking you to the hilt with an ease that made your breath stutter. A sharp gasp left your lips, swallowed instantly by the smirk curling at hers. She didn’t hesitate—her pace was relentless, rolling her hips with a purpose that left you unraveling beneath her, completely at her mercy.

You moaned, voice breaking as you gasped, ‘Y-Yujin, please… s-slow down…’ But she only smirked, her eyes dark with amusement. ‘Please?’ she echoed, leaning in close, her breath ghosting over your lips. ‘I think you can handle more than that.’ And just like that, she moved even faster, relentless, determined to push you past your limits.

While Yujin moved relentlessly atop of you, the others grew impatient—desperate. Hands roamed, lips grazed, and hungry eyes devoured every inch of you. Some craved your mouth, stealing kisses that left you breathless, while others were drawn lower, eager, insatiable, wanting to claim every part of you for themselves.

‘You can’t just keep him all to yourself, Yujin,’ Wonyoung pouted, her fingers tracing over your jaw before tilting his chin toward her. ‘I want a turn too.’

Rei let out a breathy giggle, her lips ghosting over your neck before biting down playfully. ‘Mmm, he tastes too good to share… but I guess we don’t have a choice, do we?’

Leeseo, practically buzzing with impatience, ran her nails down your chest. ‘I want to hear you beg again,’ she murmured, eyes gleaming as she leaned in, her lips just barely brushing against your own. ‘Think we can make him cry for us?’

Gaeul, ever the composed one, simply smirked as she pressed a kiss against your ear. ‘No need to rush,’ she whispered. ‘We have all night, after all.’

Liz, who had been watching the scene unfold with darkened eyes, leaned down, her voice soft but laced with something dangerous. ‘He’s already falling apart,’ she murmured, her fingers tracing lazy patterns along his skin. ‘I wonder how much more he can take before he completely breaks for us.

You felt your climax building—too fast, too intense. His breath hitched as he gasped, “Y-Yujin, I’m—”

But she only tightened her grip on you, her pace quickening, her body pressing him deeper. “Inside,” she whispered, voice laced with need. “I want all of it.”

That was all it took. The moment your release crashed over you, Yujin moaned in satisfaction, her body shuddering as she took everything you had to give. Slowly, she lifted herself off of you, breathless, her fingers lazily tracing over your chest as she admired the aftermath. You lay beneath her, panting, exhausted, body still trembling from the intensity.

But it wasn’t over.

Before you could fully catch his breath, Wonyoung was already there—her touch deliberate, her movements slow and taunting as she guided you back into her warmth. A teasing hum left her lips as she sank down onto you, her fingers curling against your chest. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?” she whispered, her lips ghosting over your ear.

Then she moved.

Faster. Harsher. Relentless.

Her hips snapped against you, her body taking you with a hunger even Yujin hadn’t shown. But it was her gaze that unraveled you—the way she locked eyes with you, deep and unwavering, a silent demand that he only look at her. “Stay with me,” she murmured, her pace never faltering. “Don’t even think about looking away.”

Your eyes locked onto Wonyoung, dazed and helpless beneath her. She leaned in, her breath warm against your lips, her pace growing impossibly faster.

“Say it,” she murmured, voice dripping with possession. “Say you’re mine… you’re ours.”

Your moans spilled out, uncontrolled, raw—but before he could utter a word, Yujin was there, crashing her lips against yours, swallowing every desperate sound. Her tongue slipped past your parted lips, deep and claiming, while her fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you even closer.

Rei’s lips followed next, warm and teasing against your jawline, leaving a trail of kisses down to your throat before sinking her teeth in just enough to make you gasp. Leeseo wasn’t far behind, her breath hot as she latched onto your collarbone, her tongue flicking out before she sucked hard, determined to leave a mark.

Liz, not to be outdone, pressed kisses along your shoulder, her touch soft but lingering, her breath fanning over your skin as she whispered sweet praises between each press of her lips. Gaeul, slow and deliberate, traced the shell of your ear with her tongue before catching your earlobe between her teeth, giving a playful bite that sent a shiver down your spine.

And through it all, Wonyoung never stopped.

She only moved faster.

Wonyoung’s relentless pace had you on the edge, your body tensing beneath her. But before you could fully succumb, a sudden force pushed her off you—Rei. Desperate, impatient, her eyes burned with hunger as she took control.

“Move over,” she huffed, barely giving Wonyoung a moment to react before she straddled him herself—this time, in reverse.

And then—heat. Tight, overwhelming heat as Rei sank down onto you, taking you in all at once. The new position had your breath hitching, body locking up as the new angle sent shockwaves through your nerves. She wasted no time, rolling her hips with slow, deliberate movements before picking up the pace, the friction driving you insane.

The others didn’t let you catch a break.

“You like this, don’t you?” Leeseo whispered against his ear, her fingers dragging down your chest.

“You’re so tense,” Liz murmured, lips ghosting over your collarbone before sinking down to leave another mark.

“You can’t even think straight, can you?” Gaeul smirked, her nails tracing over your abs, teasing you as if she loved seeing you unravel.

Yujin leaned in last, voice dripping with amusement. “You’re completely helpless….it’s cute.”

Rei was lost in her own pleasure, grinding down on you with reckless abandon—until she wasn’t.

A pair of hands suddenly gripped her waist, pulling her off with little resistance. “You’ve had your turn,” Gaeul murmured, her tone playful but firm. Leeseo was right beside her, eyes glinting with mischief.

Before you could even catch your breath, warmth enveloped you—two sets of lips, two tongues, teasing and claiming every inch of you.

“You taste so good,” Leeseo hummed, her eyes flicking up to meet yours as she let your length rest against her tongue.

“Mmm,” Gaeul smirked, fingers wrapping around the base as she guided you between them. “Look at you, completely at our mercy.”

A soft, wet slap echoed through the room as the tip met their tongues, sending a shudder down your spine.

“Sensitive,” Leeseo teased, eyes dark with satisfaction. “We like that.”

And just like that, you were undone all over again.

You gasped, body trembling as the overwhelming pleasure built inside you. “F-fuck… please… slow down…” you begged, your voice breaking between sharp breaths.

But Gaeul only smirked against your skin, her lips trailing teasingly along your length before pressing a lingering kiss to the tip. “Aww, but you look so good like this,” she murmured, her breath warm against you.

Leeseo giggled, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Why would we stop when you’re reacting so beautifully?”

Then, they moved in sync—faster, deeper, their tongues swirling, their lips tightening around you, slick and relentless. Gaeul took you in deep, her throat constricting around you just as Leeseo’s tongue flicked along the underside, her fingers gripping your thighs to keep you from squirming away.

Every sound, every movement only pushed you further to the edge, and they knew it. They wanted you there.

While Leeseo and Gaeul made it nearly impossible for you to catch your breath, Liz leaned in close, her warm lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, her voice dripping with amusement.

“You know… this is all because of that sweet little heart of yours,” she purred. “Taking us in, feeding us, letting us curl up in your bed… You should’ve known we’d want to repay you.”

She giggled softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns along your heaving chest before she whispered even lower, just for you.

“I bet you’re grateful we can turn back into cats whenever we want,” she teased. “No one would ever suspect that the guy with six adorable pets is actually being fucked senseless by six beautiful women every night.”

She pulled back just enough to meet your dazed, helpless gaze, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. “You really are lucky.”

As your release built to an unbearable peak, the girls knelt before you, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Their breaths were hot, lips parted, waiting—needing.

Gaeul was the first to take you in her grasp, her fingers wrapping around your slick, throbbing length. She stroked you with purpose, her pace merciless, dragging out every shaky breath, every desperate moan.

"Don’t hold back," she murmured, her sultry voice sending shivers down your spine.

One by one, the others leaned in, their tongues flicking out, teasing—wet heat brushing against sensitive skin. Then came the slow, deliberate drips of spit, each of them making sure you were drenched, slick, gliding effortlessly under Gaeul’s skilled touch.

The pressure coiled tight, impossible to fight, until finally—your body tensed, your breath hitched, and your climax hit hard.

It spilled over them, painting flushed skin and eager lips. Wonyoung let out a pleased hum, swiping a finger across her cheek before slipping it between her lips, tasting you with a slow, satisfied moan. Rei giggled as she licked a stray drop from the corner of her mouth, while Liz, smirking, scraped a bit off her chin with her thumb before pressing it against your lips.

"Don’t you think it’s only fair you taste yourself too?" she teased.

You barely had time to recover, your body still trembling, before Yujin’s voice cut through the haze.

"Don’t get too comfortable," she purred, pushing you back down onto the sheets. "We’re not done with you yet."

You collapsed onto the bed, limbs heavy, chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Your body felt like it had been completely drained, every nerve alight with a dull, lingering pleasure. The room was thick with warmth, the scent of sweat and something far more intoxicating hanging in the air.

Your head lolled to the side, eyes unfocused as you tried to process everything that had just happened. The way they touched you. The way they took you. The way they owned you. It was overwhelming—almost surreal.

Your lips parted, your voice hoarse. "W-why...why did that happen?" you murmured, barely able to string together the words. "What the hell was all of that?"

Soft giggles surrounded you, delicate fingers tracing lazy patterns over your chest and arms. Wonyoung leaned in, her lips ghosting over your ear, her voice like silk. "Because you wanted it."

Rei nuzzled against your side, her breath warm against your skin. "Because you needed it."

You swallowed hard, your mind still reeling. A part of you wanted to deny it, to act as if you had no control over what had just unfolded. But deep down, beneath the exhaustion and shock, there was no denying it.

You liked it.

Maybe even craved it.

Your fingers curled into the sheets as you exhaled a shaky breath. "...I don't know what this means," you admitted, barely above a whisper.

Yujin smiled against your skin, her lips pressing into your jawline. "It means you're ours now."

"Close your eyes for us, baby."

The request came in unison, teasing and playful, yet laced with something almost sinister. You hesitated for a second, still trying to catch your breath, but the way their hands gently traced over your skin left you no room to deny them.

With a slow inhale, you let your eyelids flutter shut.

"No peeking," Wonyoung cooed, her fingers ghosting over your lips before pulling away. "Not until we say so."

You swallowed, nodding in compliance. The room went quiet, save for the occasional rustle of fabric, soft giggles, and the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Minutes passed, anticipation curling tight in your stomach.

"Okay, open."

Your eyes slowly blinked open, adjusting to the sight before you—and fuck.

You could barely process what you were seeing.

Six pairs of eyes gleamed at you with mischief, framed by sleek cat ears perched atop their heads. Their outfits clung to them in all the right places—lace, straps, and dangerously short skirts barely leaving anything to the imagination.

Stockings ran up their legs, and you swore you could see the light glint off the tiny bells attached to their chokers.

Your throat went dry.

"Speechless?" Yujin smirked, tilting her head as her tail flicked behind her.

You swallowed hard, mouth opening, but no words formed.

Wonyoung sauntered forward, straddling you with ease, her nails dragging lightly down your chest. She leaned in, lips brushing against your ear as she purred:

"Ready for round two, pretty boy?"

[gutsby]

Best Served Cold

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓

Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.

A lot.

You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.

Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water’s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.

Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.

The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.

The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.

“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.

You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.

A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.

You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.

You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.

Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.

“Ya done pissin’ or what?”

You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.

You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.

“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.

At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?

You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.

“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”

Ah.

At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.

So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.

Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.

In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.

“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.

You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.

When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.

Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.

“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.

Daryl managed a curt nod.

Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”

You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.

“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.

Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.

You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.

Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.

He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.

“Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.

He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.

“I was jus—” Daryl started.

“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”

You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.

But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.

Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.

The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.

You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.

“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.

You almost choked on your spit.

“What?”

“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”

You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.

“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.

“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.

If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.

“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”

And Shane was community dick. Made sense.

You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.

Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.

“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.

You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.

“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”

“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.

“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.

“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.

You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.

“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”

You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.

“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.

In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.

“Shane, I don’t wanna—”

“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.

“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.

When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.

The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.

“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.

You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.

Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.

“Y/N!” he bellowed.

In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.

You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.

Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.

Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.

Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.

At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.

You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.

“Dar— oh!”

Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.

“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.

“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.

“Told him no,” you murmured back.

You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.

“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.

“Don’t. Please,” you said.

“Did he—”

“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”

“Oh.”

Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.

You felt aroused.

Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.

You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.

“You think maybe—” you started.

“Yeah?”

“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”

Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.

“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“Just…jerking off to you.”

He never had been any good at a bluff.

Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.

“Yeah? What about?”

Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.

“I…well…”

“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”

Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.

“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.

You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.

He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.

You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.

You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer’s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.

You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.

“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.

“Daryl!”

“Daryl?”

Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.

Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,

“Yeah?”

“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”

Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.

“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.

“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”

You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.

You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.

Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.

“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.

“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”

‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.

“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.

He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.

You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.

Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.

“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.

Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.

That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.

But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.

“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.

“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”

You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.

And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—

“Eat shit, Walsh.”

“Just help me out. Please.”

Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.

With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.

A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.

You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.

Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.

When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.

[lovesickhughes]

BUY ME PRESENTS — quinn hughes x reader

a/n: here is another fic for my holiday series ‘meet me under the mistletoe’!! this is actually my first ever quinn fic and i wrote it all in one sitting, and enjoyed every second of it! fun fact, this fic is actually inspired by my own parents’ proposal that i recently watched for the first time, and it was too adorable not to be inspired by it!! i hope you have enjoyed the series so far, and there is more to come! happy reading 

summary: christmas comes early, an unexpected gift from quinn changing your life in ways you could only ever have dreamed of

warnings: making out (a decent amount, but who wouldn’t want to make out with quinn), FLUFF 🥹

word count: 2.6k

series masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Christmas time with the Hughes was something you had quickly come to love and look forward to each year in the past four years of being with the Canucks’ captain, Quinn. The family made it their mission to make you feel as welcomed and accepted as possible, and there was never a doubt they treated you like their own daughter since beginning your relationship with Quinn. 

This year, with the Canucks schedule having a game two days before Christmas, Quinn and you had arranged to spend Christmas day at your shared Vancouver apartment before flying to Michigan to join the rest of his family at their lake house for the rest of the Christmas break before flying back home for the New Year’s Eve game a week later. That being said, this Christmas would be more special than the previous years, as it would be Quinn and your first Christmas spent together without being surrounded by either of your extended families. 

The anticipated holiday was two weeks away, and like every year before, you were finalizing all your planned gifts, only having to shop for a few more items before wrapping all of the presents you had purchased for Quinn, his family, your own family and your small circle of friends. 

Quinn had been awake before the sun had even risen, having an early morning practice with his team, before heading home for the rest of the Saturday to spend with you. The two of you had planned a few weeks back to spend today as time to shop for any last minute gifts you needed to give to your family and friends, and you both decided that after your errands had been run, you would spend the rest of the evening cuddled up on the couch watching your favourite Christmas classics with warm mugs of hot chocolate with candy canes dipped in the drink. 

While you were fast asleep, you felt the shift in the bed from behind you, indicating Quinn was up and getting ready to leave for practice. Half asleep, you heard him quietly rustle around for his clothes to be worn to practice, before you heard his feet pad against the wooden floors and the door of the ensuite bathroom quietly click shut. 

You rolled over in bed, pulling the cloud-like comforter over your shoulder and nuzzling farther into the comfortable mattress beneath you as your tired state still took over. 

It wasn’t long before Quinn had exited the bathroom, his feet softly thudding against the floor, getting louder as he approached your side of the bed and you instinctively felt his presence hover over you as you battled between your sleep-like state and waking up. 

You could hear Quinn’s soft breaths come close to your ear, as he placed a soft kiss against your temple, his hand coming up to brush your hair that was messily scattered on your face, out of the way to make you more comfortable. 

“I’ll see you later today, okay?” Quinn mumbled against your temple, placing another delicate kiss against your skin. The vibrations of his voice being sent through your skin and body made you stretch your limbs out in response as you slowly came to wake. 

You hummed in response, still too tired to put together any real words. 

“Love you, baby.” He said as he pulled away and began to walk towards the door to the master bedroom. 

“Mm, love you.” You mumbled against the side of your pillow, your face being squished against the silk material of your pillowcase. You heard Quinn chuckle to himself before exiting the room and heading towards the main area of your shared apartment, not long before hearing the sound of the front door shut as he headed out for the day. 

A few hours later, once feeling rested enough and cherishing the chance to sleep in on a Saturday, you began your day, putting together a breakfast meal and making a cup of coffee before planting yourself on the white couch in the living room, turning on the TV and watching the highlights of Friday night’s games. 

After you finished your meal and coffee, cleaned your dishes and changed for the day, you gathered your purse, keys and phone before slipping on your blundstone’s and rain coat, anticipating Vancouver’s rainy winters. 

You quickly made your way to the parkade of the apartment complex, before setting off to shop for a few more items you had on your list for a few of the other wives and girlfriends of the Canucks that you had come to be close friends with over the years.

Three hours had passed by the time you were heading back up to your apartment, multiple bags being hung on each of your arms. To say you didn’t go a little overboard on Christmas shopping would be an understatement; but you convinced yourself it was just your love language. 

You fumbled with your keys in your hand, sliding the key into the lock of the door before turning it and opening the door in a swift movement. Entering the apartment, you could hear the noise from the TV emitting in the house, indicating Quinn had made it home before you did. You thought to yourself, it was odd that he was home much earlier than his usual time when he had early morning practices. You checked your phone to see the time read that it was only 12:30pm; usually Quinn doesn’t get home closer to two o’clock. 

Furrowing your eyebrows you slipped off your shoes and walked quickly into the apartment, in search of your beloved brunette, only to find him in the kitchen, cooking some sort of lunch. 

“Hey, babe, I’m home,” you trailed off, squinting your eyes in confusion as he turned to you. Quinn quickly made his way to you, his arms slipping to your waist as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

Shocked at his affection, it took you a moment before you melted into the feeling of his lips against yours. It was a soft, but passionate kiss, Quinn’s hand coming up to cradle your jawline, he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing your lip, waiting for permission, which you quickly granted him as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your breath hitched, quickly dropping the bags that hung heavily on your arm as you then brought your own hands up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his luscious brown hair. Quinn’s hand that still rested on your hip gripped your side tighter, pulling your body in even closer to be flush against his own broad figure, and you tilted your head into the kiss, deepening it further. 

You pull away, a shocked expression written on your face, “why hello,” you chuckled, reaching to softly pinch his cheek. “You’re quite excited to see me.” You said as you grabbed the bags you had just placed to the ground, moving them over to the island counter and setting them on the surface. Quinn trailed behind, his hands finding your sides once again as his head fell into the crevice of your neck, inhaling your scent as his nose tickled your skin.

“Missed you this morning,” he mumbled, placing wet kissing against your skin. You turn around in his embrace to face him, pouting slightly in adoration. 

“So waking up next to me wasn’t enough?” You giggled in question.

“Oh, it was,” Quinn smirked, clearly showing he was deep in thought of waking up beside you, legs tangled together. 

You hum at his response, “that’s what I thought.” Letting out a quick giggle. 

Quinn resumed cooking his lunch while you took the gifts you had purchased to your room and put them in your closet alongside the other gifts you had purchased earlier in the month. 

Coming back down to the kitchen and living room, you grabbed a quick snack and water, placing yourself beside Quinn on one of the barstools that hid under the counter of the island. Pulling out your phone and scrolling through your notifications and feed, Quinn and you sat in a comfortable silence. That was one of the things you cherished about the relationship you had with Quinn; you were so comfortable with each other that there were moments in time where no words needed to be spoken, you were content with just being in the presence of each other. 

Quinn finished up his meal, placing his plate in the dishwasher and cleaning up any other messes around the kitchen, before he walked around the island to come back to being beside you, wrapping his arms around your torso from behind and tightly hugging you. 

You look up from your phone and turn your head to look at him, “you’re being awfully affectionate today,” you remarked, shining him a smile. Quinn shrugged his shoulder, continuing to hug you. “What are you up to?” 

“Nothing,” he replied, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. “C’mere.” He said as he stood up from hugging you, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet. He pulled you into his side and directed you to the living room, where the Christmas decorations Quinn and you had set up made the area feel as cozy and festive as you could imagine. 

Quinn guides you to the couch with a hand on the small of your back, and you plop down onto the cushion with him, his arm still wrapped around your shoulder as you snuggle into his side.

Quinn lifted his free hand to your chin, tilting your head to meet his lips, bringing you into a short, sweet kiss. When you pulled away, you had a squint in your eyes, trying to figure out why Quinn was being so affectionate towards you. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t typically affectionate, but his actions today, mirrored when he was scheming something. 

“What are you up to?” You press.

“Nothing,” he claimed as he paused quickly after, wanting to continue his sentence before cutting himself off.

“No, it’s not nothing,” you protest, “you’re hiding something.” You say as you point your finger at him. 

He sighs nervously, drawing confusion on your face at his quick demeanour change. 

“Well, you’re right, it’s not nothing,” he said, “I got you an early Christmas gift, okay?” He said nervously through a shaky breath. 

You giggle, “that’s it? You don’t have to be so nervous about that, my love.” You exclaimed, reaching to massage his shoulder. 

“That’s the thing,” He continued, making a pit form in your stomach; realizing he was indeed hiding something. “I wanted to do something special for you for this Christmas, and that’s why I suggested we spend Christmas day together, just the two of us, okay?” He reassured you, earning a slow nod in response from you for him to continue. “I just want you to know how much I love you, and how much you have changed my life for the better. Since we got together, you have completed me as a person, and I don’t know what I would do without you.” He exclaimed. Your eyes had now begun to fill with tears at his heartfelt compliment to you, and you scooted yourself closer to him, wrapping your own arms around him into a hug while still looking into his mesmerizing eyes. 

“Now, I want you to go and look for your gift, it’s in the tree.” He directed, nodding his head in the direction of where the Christmas tree was set up. “I can come with you if you want.” He quickly added, reassuring you of his support. 

You nervously nodded your head to have him join you and you both stood at the same time, cautiously walking over to the faux pine tree that had themed ornaments hung on its branches. Quinn placed a hand on the small of your back, slowly walking to the side of the tree closest to the windows in the living room of the apartment, and when you scanned the branches in search for your gift, your eyes abruptly stopped at what appeared to be a dark blue, velvet, ring-sized box. 

Your mouth fell agape in shock, and you frantically turned to Quinn who had a calm expression on his face, nodding at you to reach for the box and grab it. 

“I want you to open it.” He said quietly beside you, and so you reached into the tree, grabbing the small box and you nervously fumbled with it to open it, revealing a beautiful princess cut engagement ring. 

Immediately you let out a sob, your emotions being too extreme to be held back as you brought a hand up to cover your mouth. Quinn’s hand on your back, rubbed softly up and down against the fabric of your shirt, and he guided you to turn to him, delicately taking the box from you and falling to one knee. 

“Y/n, since the day that I met you; I knew that you were the one. And I know it sounds cheesy, but there is no other way I can put into words how much you mean to me and how special you are. You are my sun and lifeline. I cannot imagine a world where I didn’t have you in it, so I decided I needed to make myself a world where you’re always in it.” He spoke softly, choking on his own words, growing emotional at the moment you were sharing. 

“Will you do the honours of completing me, and will you marry me?” He asked proudly and you couldn’t even form words to give a response, all but nodding your head before falling to your knees and holding onto Quinn in a hug. 

“Is that a yes?” He asked, leaning his head back to try and find your face. 

You pull away from his shoulder, “God, yes.” You passionately exasperate in excitement. You pulled him into a sweet, long kiss, your wet cheeks from your tears falling onto his own, before Quinn pulled away to wipe your face, and looking down to the box he was still holding. 

“We gotta get this thing on your finger to solidify it,” He said softly, just so you could hear, “can’t have you slipping away anytime soon.” He chuckled. 

You smiled, looking down as Quinn took the diamond ring from its box and carefully slid it onto the fourth finger of your left hand, and you looked back up at him, meeting his eyes with a wide smile on both of your faces. 

“Never.” You confirmed as you smiled into a kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled you by the waist to meet his figure. 

The kiss was filled with much more desperation than before, Quinn quickly taking control and he lifted you to your feet and guided you carefully back to the couch while keeping your lips connected. Your back fell softly against the cushion of the couch as you continued kissing Quinn, finally parting and looking at each other yet again, chests heaving up and down as you were out of breath from the heated moment. 

“I’m so glad you said yes,” Quinn said as he let out a breath. 

“You really think I would have said no?” You counter with a raise of your eyebrow. 

He chuckled at your rebuttal, shaking his head, “Nah, I knew you’d say yes.” He shrugged playfully as he leaned back in to kiss you again. 

Sitting back up, with your legs thrown over Quinn’s lap and his arm resting on your hip, you leaned your head against his shoulder. 

“I can’t believe we’re engaged now.” You smiled in disbelief, extending your hand out in front of you to admire the gorgeous ring now on your finger. 

“Me neither.” Quinn mumbled against the crown of your head, placing a kiss to your hair. 

“Best present ever.” You said to Quinn as you looked up to meet his eyes again, pushing yourself up slightly to kiss him. 

And Quinn truly was the best present you’d ever been given. 

[suni-writings]

Take the pain away.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

wc: 2.2k

+18!! mdni

(content warning: unrequited feelings, cheating [unrelated to jude x reader], toxic relationship [also not jude x reader], smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])

it's been a while since i wrote a jude smut, but you ask and i shall deliver. we have been waiting for this one. heavily inspired by "fuck the pain away (lost tapes 2022)" by tory lanez.

He was exhausted. Not because of football, not because of fame, but because of his best friend. Being physically exhausted was something he was used to — Jude could get rid of it in a few weeks if it resulted in some type of pain. Emotionally, however? He was clueless as to how to heal it, especially since time did nothing but deepen his feelings towards her. It messed up his head, his thoughts got foggy, and he seemed to act out of impulse whenever he was around her. Nothing could really stop him when she was next to him, and that was his doom.

Well, that and her boyfriend. Her hideous, stupid attempt of a man of a boyfriend, whom did nothing but make her feel bad and cheat on her. She wasn’t the girl Jude used to know anymore — the fierce one, who everyone would be scared to even look at her the wrong way. Somehow, that manipulator managed to get her undivided forgiveness every time. It was a never-ending cycle, one that was tearing his mind apart. He was always the one to rescue her, until that dumbass showed up again, promising to be different and acting like a prince for a week.

That night wasn’t any different. The moment his phone vibrated in his pocket and Jude saw who sent the message, he already knew what it was about. And, despite being tired, he still walked up to her house, because she had him at his mercy. He wanted nothing more than to see her okay again, to be her sunshine of her rainy days.

Even if for a single moment only.

She had left the door unlocked for him. Jude carefully got inside, taking a deep breath. He could hear her sobs coming from her room, which he carefully walked up to.

“Princess?” Jude called out softly.

Even in the darkness, he could see her hands coming to dry the tears in her eyes. She sat up, still sniffing, and he sat next to her. He caressed gently her face and wiped another tear.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly.

“What’s the point? You already know what happened. It’s what always happens.” She let out a humorless chuckle and sighed. “I’m sorry. I probably look like shit right now.’

Bellingham took a moment to look — more like admire — her face. Red glimmering eyes, puffy nose, the bite marks on her lip to avoid crying. She still looked breathtaking.

“You look like a mess, honey,” Jude smirked. “But still pretty as ever.”

She gave a small smile, that quickly turned into a grimace, and she looked at him.

“I feel so weak, Jude. I don’t know why I keep letting this happen, I don’t know why I’m so—” she stopped midsentence and laid in bed again, holding back her tears. He was next to her, supporting the weight of his body on his elbow. “Please, take this pain away. I can’t handle this anymore.”

He took a deep breath yet again. There’s not much he could do, and all his options sounded selfish; even if it was for her own good, it also benefited him. Like leaving that project of a man for once and all. He slowly took strands of her hair out of her face, gently outlining her cheek. He avoided looking at her lips, because he couldn’t do anything about it. Especially with her this vulnerable.

“I’m here, princess. What can I do for you?” Jude asked quietly, toying her hair between his fingers.

“Take the pain away.” She begged again and looked into his eyes.

She had no idea how much Jude wanted to do that.

“I can’t do that. I’m not him, I can’t fix his mistakes, but I can—” he bit his tongue when he realized he was about to say too much; to act selfishly, to prove her she could do better, to give her a taste of what she could have.

A few moments of silence fell between them and her eyes searched for his. She leaned closer, as if she got the hint. As if she wanted it too.

Jude could be her temporary relief, he didn’t care. If he could help, he would.

Who was he trying to fool? If he could have her in any way, he would.

“Fuck the pain away. I could fuck the pain away, baby.” He whispered as he looked at her in her beautiful, almost translucent nightgown. “An eye for an eye. Give him a taste of his own poison. You say the word, I’ll do it.”

She leaned even closer to him, her hand gently resting on his face as she caressed his cheek. She bit her lip, thinking. She was desperate, and Jude was right there for her.

If her boyfriend could do it, then so could she.

Without a second warning, to Jude’s surprise, her lips crashed into his, hastily seeking relief. When their tongues touched, she was in a frenzy, and everything started to get blurry.

All she could think was the way Jude kissed and bit her neck, the way his warm tongue descended to her collarbone and threatened to go even lower. The way she tugged, on Jude’s hair, not wanting the moment the moment to end, needing more of his kisses. Of his burning touch.

“Need to take this off, princess.” He muttered against her collarbone, holding the hem of her nightgown. She nodded and stood her arms up so he could easily remove it. “Making this all so easy for me.” He said once he saw her breasts and tossed the nightgown away, biting her nipple before gently sucking it while caressing the other with expertise.

She was already panting. In a single attempt, he brought his covered knee close to her core, and the damp in her panties was undeniable.

That only fueled his anger. That bastard had her and didn’t touch her properly.

His mouth left her breast and moved back to her neck, sucking and biting it while his hand descended to her core and she her back almost arched in anticipation; if he knew she was that touch deprived, he would’ve suggested that a long time ago.

With his hands underneath her underwear, he pressed two fingers against her clit and moved them slowly, pressuring further to see the way her chest rose, the way her cheeks flush and how her mouth opened, too scared to make a sound.

So, without warning, Jude inserted the two fingers inside her and moved them fast, curling them until he found the spot that made her back arch, and the room became filled with moans. He kissed her throat, his mouth vibrating with each moan that came out of her mouth. His movements were precise, fast, and with an urge to prove something that, before he could realize or properly enjoy what he was doing, her walls were closing against his fingers.

“Jude, I’m—” she tried to say, but he smirked against her skin and moved his fingers even harder.

“You’re what? Tell me, baby.” Jude teased her and her back arched. He felt his fingers hurt, but it didn’t matter. Not when she was coming undone in his hands.

“Jude—” she tried to warn again, and he kept moving his fingers, looking at her in the eyes. She struggled to keep them open, trying to keep eye contact.

“Is that everything you know how to say now? My name?” He hit the spot once again and smirked. “I could get used to that.”

Her walls fully clenched around his fingers, and she finally came, seeing stars behind her eyes and leaving a loud moan. It was something she had never experienced so strongly, and she didn’t know if it was because her boyfriend didn’t care about her pleasure or if it was because it was Jude. Maybe the answer was both.

“Fuck.” she muttered, panting. He just smirked, looking into her eyes and leaning away, putting his own fingers in his mouth to taste her.

“Now that’s a very—” his fingers left his mouth with a pop once he made sure to savor the taste. “—very good girl. And a delicious one, if I might add. Could taste you for fucking hours.”

Jude didn’t care if he still had his clothes on. He had a taste of hers, and nothing would stop him now.  If he already couldn’t stop himself before touching, the gods may as well punish him, and it wouldn’t be enough for him to stop.

He kissed her again, making her taste herself before lowering the kisses — from her mouth to the spot under her ear. From her neck to her collarbone. From the valley of her breasts to her stomach. The kisses only lowered. Before he could reach her panties once again, starving, she tugged on her hair.

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m too worked up for you to eat me out. Need more.”

He bit his lip and smirked. As much as he wanted to taste her, he wanted to be inside her. He took off his shirt in a swift move and she sat up, crawling closer to him to kiss him and bite his neck. He felt like his skin was on fire and the bulge on his sweatpants only got harder. He took a deep breath.

“You’re not helping, princess.” He sighed.

“Am I not?” Now it was her time to tease. She straddled him and sat right against his crotch, making him almost roll his eyes. “You should take those sweatpants off.” She said as her hands caressed his abdomen.

He quickly turned the position, now on top of her, and took his sweatpants off.

“Good enough for you, princess?” He whispered, leaning closer.

“Better if you took your underwear off.” She smirked.

“Brat.”

Instead of taking his underwear off, he took her panties off in one single move. A risky one, since he could’ve ripped it from how quickly he took it off. He lowered and admired for a moment.

“Such a pretty pussy. A shame you won’t let me eat you out.” He whispered as he looked at her core, gently touching her puffy clit once again. She was stretched, but not enough. He didn’t pay attention to that when he had his fingers inside her — he just wanted to see her pretty face coming.

“Jude.” She called him out with some urgency, and he sighed.

Maybe the gods couldn’t stop Jude, but she could.

He took his underwear off, only now realizing how painfully hard he was. She watched as his cock sprung out, rigid, leaking with too much precum. He bit his lip and put his hand around his cock, spreading the precum slowly. He knew how sensitive he was right now, and he had to hold it back for her. He lined his member with her entrance and slowly dipped inside her.

She moaned loudly and Jude could feel his breath stopping from how tight she was. He gave her some time to adjust to his size.

“This is too much.” She whined.

“Darling, I’m not even moving.” He replied. “Your boyfriend lacks even in that area? He’s truly useless.”

She would’ve chuckled if she wasn’t having a hard time with the way his cock filled her, the burning sensation from the stretch seeming unending.

“It hurts.”

Jude leaned close to her, their lips almost touching.

“It doesn’t, baby.” He thrusted one time, to make her more used to the movements. “I’m taking the pain away. Just feel me here. That’s all you have to do.” He pressed his hand against her belly and thrusted once again, earning a moan and feeling himself from how big he was.

She could do much better than her boyfriend. He wanted to be the much better.

He started properly moving, hard, fast, desperate for his own release as well. To prove her how much better she could be fucked if he was the one doing it. And each time he hit the spot, he could feel her walls clenching. His hand never left her belly, knowing how deep he was going into her. He couldn’t stop.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and held his hair as his movements became more frenetic, moans dripping from her mouth to his ear with anything he did. He moaned whenever she clenched too hard against him.

“You’re so fucking tight.” he muttered, panting, trying to keep the pace. It was taking all of his willpower to not just come already. She didn’t reply, of course. She was too busy scratching his back and moaning desperately.

His movements became more erratic, slower, and, when her walls clenched around him one last time, he spilled everything inside her and fell to her chest, trying to catch his breath.

“Jude?” She called him out once they could properly speak.

“Yeah?”

“Stay. For the night.” She pleaded softly, caressing his back that were marked by the painting her nails had done.

“I wasn’t planning to go anywhere else, princess.” He smiled at her.

Jude held her against his chest, as she peacefully slept. He leaned his chin on the top of her head and, once he was certain she was sleeping, he sighed.

“I can’t take the pain away because I’m not your man.” Jude whispered. “But I wish I was.”

[krys4h]

𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 ☆

summary◞﹒୧ Kaiser is your best friend and wants to help you with your sexual needs.

contents◞﹒୧  2,8k words, smut, fem!reader, girly!reader, fingering, oral sex, porn without plot, kaiser is kinda soft, slight fluff, best friends, straight to the point, minors dni.

You fell back on the bed, unsatisfied and grumpy.

“It was good, huh?” your one night stand panted out, getting up on his knees.

You rolled your eyes and cursed him internally.

“Yeah, yeah…” you replied without that much of enthusiasm, and turned your back at him in bed.

It’s been ages since you had enjoyed sex. No, literally. You don’t remember a time where a man made you come with his fingers, or a time where you didn’t have to simulate. Men were only good for jackhammering and sloppy strokes. This time, this stupid man succeed to hurt you with how bad he was fucking you. You were dry, and your moans were fake.

You didn’t paid attention to him and grab your phone on the on the bedside table, ready to complain about your sex life to your best friend, Kaiser. It had become your habit, eventually. While he was traveling the world for his matches, you would tell him how bad men were fucking you.

You: “you’re up?”

Your phone vibrated almost instantly.

Kai <3 : “I’m outside.”

You widened your eyes, not expecting that answer.

You: “wait I’m not alone.”

Kai <3 : “another one of your sex plans? I thought you would stop that shit.”

You rolled over in bed, looking at the man you shared your body with a few seconds ago, and already regretted it. You typed a response while sighing.

You: “more like a sex disaster.”

“Someone is coming over, can you leave?” You called out to the man who was getting dressed, having already forgotten his name.

He wasn’t even your type, you didn’t know why you flirted with him. You always regretted your choices when you were desperate, like Kaiser said, you should seriously stop that shit. But you had needs and you were in your twenties, it wasn’t your fault if every men you slept with were bad at sex.

He turned around, confused, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Leaving? But…”

He was putting his jeans back on, his hands frozen. You sighed, irritated, turning in bed. He was making things difficult.

“Yeah, leaving,” you insisted and yawned, your hand on your mouth.

Experiencing bad sex was tiring. You didn’t want to be particularly mean to him, but he paid no attention to your pleasure during the intercourse, he was only good for selfish strokes. He mumbled an insult that you ignored as he dressed himself quickly. When he quit your apartment with his stuff in hands, you got up and stretched yourself.

Kaiser was coming soon, so you took a few steps towards your door to leave it open for him. You rushed to the shower, washing yourself in the warmth of hot water. You didn't want the guy's smell on you anymore, and you slathered yourself in vanilla cleansing cream. You took your time in the shower cabin, and when you left it, it is with caramel moisturizer that you coat your body. You sprayed yourself with vanilla body mist, and put on a clean pair of pajamas : pink cotton mini shorts, and a tank top of the same color and material. You were drying your hair with a towel when you left the bathroom, your pink slippers slapping on the parquet floor.

Sat on your bed with his hood on his head, Kaiser’s intense blue eyes looked up to you, interrupting his game on your TV. His eyes roamed your body from head to toe, lingering on the curve on your hips in your mini short. He raised his head to look at you better, and his eyes contact send a wave of electricity throughout your body, having more of an effect on you than the sex you just had.

There had always been a special tension between the two of you, and you knew you had kind of crossed the friendship line a long time ago, but neither of you had the courage to put a specific name on your relationship, and you had stuck to considering yourselves best friends.

“You’re all pink,” his gruff voice teased you.

“You know it’s my favorite color,” you shrugged with a smile, walking towards the bed. You took your phone, and played an rnb playlist, the playlist beginning by “deep”, by summer walker.

He was wearing his usual black hoodie that he wore when he was traveling between soccer matchs, and baggy jogging of the same color. You sat just next to him, and lowered toward his level to kiss his cheek. He turned his head towards you, his eyes softened and his lips curled into a small smile.

“It’s been a while,” It was true that because of his many matches at the moment, you had less time to see each other.

“Yeah, I missed you.”

“Really?” his smile grew into a smirk, “I thought you were occupied with your fuck buddies.”

“Don’t talk about that,” you mumbled, already grumpy because of the subject. “Today was horrible.”

“Tell me.”

He looked again at the TV, and resumed his Call Of Duty game, using your PS4.

“It’s weird to talk about my sex life with a man, I’m not telling you,” you chuckled.

“Come onnnnn.”

“Nah.”

He killed an opponent and turned to you.

“You’re always complaining about it, lemme hear the full story.”

“I’m not talking about my sex fantasies with you, Kai.”

He rolled his eyes and nudged you, you laughed at his motions.

“C’mere.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist and brought you closer to him. You raised your head, and your eyes met his usual smile and you sighed, already giving up. You sat on his lap, and he stretched his long, muscular legs out on your bed.

“Now tell me you your secrets,” his cold breath brushed the back of your neck, and you shivered a bit.

His hands were focus on the PS4 controller as he killed more and more opponents, the game being easy for him, but his mind were focused on you.

“You’re gonna mock me.”

“I’m not denying that,” he chucked.

The room was filled with the sounds of the game on the TV, and his eyes were glued to it but his mouth was right next to your ear. Every word he spoke with his deep voice gave you goosebumps.

“I told him to go hard, he did it, but without foreplay.”

Kaiser winced.

“You okay?”

“No,” you sighed. “Men don’t know how to please a woman, it’s just hurtful at this point.”

“Not every men, don’t worry.”

He gave you his controller, letting you play.

“I’m sorry but it’s starting to become hard to not believe every man are bad at sex.”

“I’m not.”

He whispered that just next to your ear, as if he was doing it on purpose. He placed his hands on your thighs and he gave you soft caresses on your skin with his palms.

“I believe what I see,” your hands on the controller tensed when you felt his voice in you ear, “I need evidence.”

“Evidence? You really want evidence?”

It’s like the whole atmosphere of the room shifted to something more sensual, more intimate. You struggled to paid attention to your game as Kaiser let his hands wandered on the flesh of your thighs.

“I can give you the evidence you want,” he continued in your ear, and he lowered his head to lean down in your neck, his breath hovering on your skin. Your breath caught in your throat, and you didn’t know what to say at this moment, but the throbbing sensation in your lower belly was the answer you needed.

He grabbed the flesh on your inner thighs in his hands, and pressed a kiss on the skin of your neck. It wasn’t the first time he did that, but it was the first time your body reacted to it that much. You instantly let go of the controller, and it fell on the mattress.

“Kai.”

“Yeah?” his mouth kissed along your throat, his tongue sliding on your skin. When you said you liked neck kisses, you were talking about that: his mouth hungry of your flesh, sucking it with appetite. He used his teeth, slowly biting your skin as he sucked it between his lips. It felt so good, your insides twisted in excitement as you rubbed your thighs together.

He continued to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses, devouring your neck, his hands gripping your legs.

“Got you all silent?” he smirked against your wet skin, and he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer. “What did you want to say?”

“Nothing,” you melted under his caresses and kisses, unable to say anything.

It’s been a while since you remarked that he looked at you with longing and desire, not a very friendly stare. You too, you didn’t looked at him with a friendly stare. His voice and his gaze had an extreme effect on you since forever. It was even logical that you were led to do this now.

“You smell so good,” he whispered in your neck, your scent intoxicating. “Lemme show you the evidence, yeah?” his hands played with the hem of your short.

“We aren’t friends anymore if you deceive me,” you inhaled, getting your sass back and he laughed in your neck.

“Friends? Who is friends? You’re my girl since the beginning, you were just a bit… Lost.”

You widened your eyes at his confidence.

“I’m not your-”

“But that’s okay, I’m gonna show you what it feels to be my girl and you’re gonna stop looking for others men,” he slid his hands under your short, and you froze. The two of you held your breathing because of how wet you were already are.

“I just kissed your neck and you’re…”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, heat coming in your face.

“I’m not complaining,” he chuckled, and he rubbed his fingers on the wet spot of your lace pink thong. You let out a soft sigh, already shifting and squirming on his lap. You closed your eyes.

“Tell me what you want, how you like it.”

“Mhm…”

You struggled to stay focused with his caresses on your clothed cunt.

“When you’re doing it with them,” he moved one of his hands to roam all over your body under your tank top, to finally grasp one of your breasts, “what do you ask them?”

With the hand under your short, he traced circles with his fingers on the wet spot, and when his hand on your breast, he kneaded it in his palm.

“I…” you began, breathing already fast as you rubbed your thighs together. “I don’t know, it depends.”

“What do you want to do with me?”

Rough. Fucking you dumb, like you were nothing to him. Or slow and deep. Or just, pleasuring you with oral sex. How can you said that to your best friend?

“Uh…”

His fingers slid under your thong, and you arched your back when he started to toy with your clit, his index and middle fingers playing on the sweet spot. His erection rubbed against your back.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t know, I just want to feel good,” you tilted your head back, resting in the crook of his neck, inhaling softly.

“Imma make you feel real good, don’t worry,” his words were like a promise and you bit your lips at his gruff and sultry voice.

“They always say that and…”

“Don’t compare me to your lame sex plans,” he interrupted you, and his grip on your breast tightened. “’m gonna show you how it is done.”

Kaiser had an ego, he showed itself at that moment. He didn't want to be compared to the jerks who had been in your bed, it was an insult to him. He knew how to please a woman and he was going to show you.

He sat up on the bed, and gently placed you on the left side of the bed. You looked up, confused, following him with your eyes. He stood up from the bed to place his knees in front of you, his height towering over you. He took off your shorts and thong.

“Open your thighs,” he commanded, and you submitted, your heart racing. You spread your legs, your cunt in display for him. His eyes were full of lust, and you almost wanted to look away, intimidated by his gaze on your intimate parts. You weren’t shy usually, but the desire in his gaze was so intense.

He leaned down, arranging the pillow behind your back so you were more comfortable and it warmed your stomach. You didn't know this side of him. He bent down, his face above your sensitive spot, his breath brushing it, and making you shift your legs, nervous.

He looked up, his gaze on you, his eyes never leaving you as he slowly went down, and grabbed your thighs, passing his arms under them to control them well and avoid you trapping his head between them.

The first contact of his tongue on your cunt, made you jolt and grab the blanket under you. He teased you with the tip of his tongue, before tracing a line along your entrance, parting your lips. He was so slow with it, it excited you so much, your feverish gaze on him and your legs tense with anticipation.

“Come on,” you rocked your lips against his mouth, wanting to feel his tongue deeper, and your voice was impatient. He smiled against your cunt, but said nothing and continued his torture.

Every flick of his tongue was slow, deliberate, precise. He knew what he was doing, he knew how to rile you up. You desperately wanted more, so you pushed your cunt against his mouth, grinding against him, but nothing changed, he kept his tongue still against your clit and your thighs were clenched with need.

“Please,” you panted, rubbing your twitching hole against his face with urge, “I want to…”

Just when you spoke, he decided to stop his torture, and he buried his face deep in your wet folds, his tongue licking up every stripes of your arousal. You jolted, your back arched.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, grinding against him, “yes, please, just like that.”

You shut your eyes tight as you savored him eating you. He drove his tongue deeper and made circles on your twitching hole. Your arousal was dripping down his chin, and as he made out with your cunt, he made such lewd noise that heat rushed to your face.

It wasn't just his mouth that was working on you, but his whole face. As his mouth and tongue were deep in your folds, his nose rubbed against your clit, making your thighs clenching at his every rubbing motions.

That’s what you called an “eater”. A man not shy about pleasing the woman, his face deep in her pussy, licking all of her slick, and his tongue wiggling inside as you pushed your cunt into his mouth.

You rubbed your lower body against his face, whimpering without shame since it felt so good. Your orgasm approached, and it’s been a while since you felt that way with a man. Your mind were fussy as he fucked you with his tongue, and your pussy clenched in his mouth.

His eyes never left you, he loved seeing your body twitching every time his tongue brushed your clit. His eyes were half-lidded, he was pussy drunk. He treated you like a princess, eating you like it was his last mission on earth. His mind were dizzy with his your taste and smell. He always wondered how you tasted, how you smelt, and know he had his answer, he wasn’t going to let you down.

When your body went still, ready to explode he did something that you never experienced before. He withdrew his face off inside you, and blew on your clit, his mouth forming an “O”. The cold breath on your sensitive spot created a surge of electricity in your body, and you came with lightning force, your body arched.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and let you catch your breath as he sat in bed, next to you. You slowly came down from your high, breathing hard. It was the best head you never had in your life. You didn’t have energy for more, you were so already exhausted by the clenching and tension in your legs. You stared at the ceiling, shocked. Kaiser chuckled.

“So?”

“What?”

“I wanted to do more, but you seem tired.”

You lowered your head, and saw your shaking legs. Kaiser was a monster.

“You’re…” you turned your head to look at him, and searched for the best word. “Crazy.”

“So, no man can satisfy you?”

You rolled your eyes, and chose not to answer him. You turned your back on him, and took your phone to scroll on the net, but your mind was fixed on the phenomenal orgasm that you had just had. It was sensational, crazy.

“Answer me,” he slapped your ass, and you gasped, surprised.

“Kai!”

You turned around to throw a punch at him, but he easily dodged it. As if nothing had happened, you fought in bed, throwing a pillow at him and giggling, as you always did with him. Except now, you knew what your best friend was capable of.

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

[sukirichi]

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐒. 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮

— in which you and your fuck buddy pretend to date, which totally won’t lead to feelings at all, right?

content / warnings. toxic college settings. explicit smut. MINORS DNI. choking. exhibitionism. fingering. making out. masturbation. voyeurism. toxic characters. reverse cowgirl riding. implied dub-con. friends with benefits. fake dating. unedited.

dedicated to @kyriaan

The sixth beep of your phone that cursed morning had you shuffling around your bag for the device, fishing it out and muting it with exasperation. To no one’s surprise, he was the sole topic again. Oikawa this and Oikawa that — how he’d be such a great boyfriend to you and your friends could also go on dates with his equally charismatic friends; you were tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.

“Funny seeing you here,” a bored voice drawled out, the scraping of a chair against the floor snapping you to your senses. “Never in my whole life did I imagine I’d find you hiding in a library of all places — are you reading Freud? His theories are shit. They’re not even scientifically proven.”

You raised a brow at Suna Rintaro, your not-so friend friend.

You and Rintaro had a strict friends with benefits relationship.

It started with meeting at a party once when you needed a release from the stress of finals, you made out on the crowded dance floor and found yourselves tangled in the sheets with barely any memory of the night before. The rest was history. Soon, you ran into him more often than you’d expected, and it wasn’t long before you added his name into speed dial.

Funnily enough, you weren’t that close to him.

You either knew everything about him or knew little to nothing. Most of the time you spent with Rintaro would be when you two were drunk out of your minds, bodies too occupied with moving against one another that ‘getting to know each other’ had never been a thing.

For some reason, however, Rintaro was someone you could trust with your whole heart. You just wouldn’t date him because you weren’t looking for a relationship, and neither was he.

Both of you loved the arrangement you had now.

“Why do you know so much about Freud? I just randomly picked up this book.”

Rintaro shrugged, “‘Hooked up with a girl in Psychology once; she was pretty hot, but you’re still my favourite,” winking, he chewed on his gum before snatching the book away from you.

A protest nearly fell from your mouth when a mop of wavy, dark hair sauntered inside the library, taking long, confident strides as he chatted with Iwaizumi. Eyes widening, you ducked your head behind Suna, desperately clutching the hoodie clad on his stiff back.

Rintaro glanced downwards at you, “You’re hiding like you murdered somebody’s pet. Should I be worried or should I help you in hiding someone’s body?”

“Literally shut up. Oikawa is right there.”

“Oikawa... Tooru?” following your line of sight, Rintaro’s back slouched at the same time his lips curled into a mischievous smile. You could tell he was stifling his laughter; the vibrations of his back spoke enough of his urge to betray you. “Oh, he’s looking here. At you, I might say — care to explain?”

“I have nothing to explain to you. We’re not even friends.”

“Ouch,” Rintaro clutched at his chest, “That hurt. Weren’t you at my dorm like five nights in a row last week? You didn’t want me to leave the bed either. I thought we had something special!”

“Suna Rintaro, I am not fucking around with you. Shut up. I swear if Oikawa walks here, I’m never talking to you again.”

As if to prove a point, you plopped until your upper body squished against his back and the chair, cheeks puffing out in frustration as Rintaro sighed. “Okay, you don’t have to explain anything to me, but come on. You’re using me as a human shield and I have zero context on what’s going on,” he tapped your thigh, head slightly tilted to the side with a wary eye out for Oikawa. “Listen, if he’s bothering you, I could deal with it. He looks like the type of guy who doesn’t know what ‘no’ means so if that’s the case, stop hiding. I can help you with it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your grip on his hoodie listened. Peering up from the bottom of your lashes, you nervously licked your lips. “Wait... you mean that? You’ll really help me?”

“Yeah! You send me nudes that motivate me to ace my exams so this is the least I could do.”

“You just have to make everything sexual, don’t you?” you rolled your eyes and ignored Rintaro’s shameless smile. Scanning the room, you glared at Oikawa’s direction before sitting up and gluing yourself to Rintaro’s hip, whose brow raised but said nothing otherwise. “Okay, so the thing is... my friends may or may not have set me up with Oikawa. They kind of gave him false hope I’m really into him — which I never will be because he has a shitty personality — but he’s not having any of it. He insisted I should go with him on just one date, and if I still don’t change my mind about him, then he won’t push further. Otherwise, he really doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s everywhere that I ended up blurting out I was already dating someone.”

Rintaro rested his chin on his palm. “That’s a lot of information to take in,” he mused, “So... you need help in finding a fake boyfriend, is that it?”

“About that,” with guilt written all over your face, you scratched the back of your neck and chuckled, making sure to avoid eye contact the entire time. “You were the first one to come to mind so I told him I was dating the middle blocker from his team. The uhm, guy who stays up until three am fighting in Twitter threads.”

Rintaro’s jaw dropped. “No way,” he clicked his tongue, hands coming up to ball beside your cheeks as he fought the desire to squeeze your cheeks. Meanwhile, you blinked at him innocently, lower lip jutted out in hopes you’d appease him — which more or less worked as he slumped in his seat. “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“You did and you chose to date me!” Rintaro hissed under his breath, “Jeez, if you wanted us to be official, you could’ve said so. I would’ve thought about it,” exhaling through his nose, Rintaro pushed his hair back, his head too much of a mess to notice you getting flustered. “Fine. I’ll be your fake boyfriend, but don’t you dare fall in love with me. Our condition when we started sleeping together was that we’re limited to casual relationships only. I like our arrangement already, and you mean a lot to me as a friend so I don’t want to lose you, alright? Whatever we’re doing, it’s all going to be an act.”

“Deal,” you shook his hand, face lighting up at how it didn’t take much to convince him. “Now go to the party with me tonight. We’ll show Oikawa why he can’t have me.”

The sight of bodies grinding onto another and music blaring through the speakers weren’t new to you and Rintaro. You’d both seen the same scene a thousand times before, having been part of that crowd at one point. Yet, tonight felt different from rest. The music felt muted as you walked through the door with Rintaro’s hand down on your waist, the stench of alcohol and sex overpowered by the musky perfume your fake boyfriend wore.

You couldn’t think clear around him.

You tried to blame it on the jitters that set your nerves on fire, anxiety pooling in your stomach at the thought Oikawa made it clear he wanted to see you tonight.

Of course, you weren’t stupid. Knowing the guy infamous for his reputation for sleeping around and changing partners like they were his clothes, he wouldn’t give up once he had his eyes set on someone. It just so happened that unfortunate person had to be you.

“Relax,” Rintaro breathed into your ear, pulling you closer by the hip when you weaved through the people nearly fucking on the floor. The sudden gesture had you jolting for a split second. Blinking, Rintaro’s reassuring smile greeted you with a tinge of amusement, his gaze tracing down your nails forming crescent moons on his arm. “Do you really have to cling to me all night?”

“We’re supposed to be a couple madly in love, remember?” you reminded with a bounce of your heel, surveying the throng of people milling in and out of the frat house in search of Oikawa.  “You should kiss me too as soon as we see him. Then he’ll stop bothering me and we can be over with this fiasco.”

“Asking just in case, but how should I kiss you? Like a peck?”

“Kiss me like you want the whole world to know I’m yours,” you said nonchalantly, not thinking too much of it since this was supposed to be an act. Until a horde of loud males started cheering as soon as they entered the room, the crowd welcoming Oikawa and his friends warmly when Rintaro suddenly grabbed you by the wrist, twisting you to face him. The last thing you saw before Rintaro tilted his head to the side to press his lips to yours was the look of utter horror on Oikawa’s face.

Although, honestly, who cared? Rintaro tasted like beer and strawberries, his musky scent clouding your senses that your eyes closed in response.

Knees weakening, you grabbed onto Rintaro’s shoulders to steady yourself, gasping into his greedy lips when you felt him squeeze your hip possessively. You groaned into the kiss, your hands running up to play with the ends of his hair as Rintaro’s back hit the wall, his bent leg trapped between your thighs. He quickly took the chance and nudged his knee on your clothed pussy. Your skirt grazed against your sensitive core that you attempted to pull away to breathe, but Rintaro wasn’t having any of it.

Smirking beneath you, Rintaro hooked a finger into the chains dangling from your skirt and pulled you flush against him. You had no time to react before he was pushing a tongue past your lips. Warm, wet muscles danced against each other as Rintaro memorized the taste of you the same way you did for him — not a single care about air anymore when he made those low, deep whimpers setting fire to your loins.

But just as soon as you leaned in for more, his hair tugged backward to deepen the kiss, Rintaro pulled away. “That’s how I’d kiss you if I were your boyfriend,” he declared, pads of his thumb swiping against his moist lip swollen from the little nips you gave him — the look of pleasure and satisfaction displayed all over his handsome face that told you how much he enjoyed your needy whines.

You gaped at him, your skin burning from being edged.

Rintaro flicked you on the forehead. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked me to kiss like I wanted to let the world know your mine, and he was looking. Besides, we need to show someone who you belong to, right?” pushing his weight off the wall, Rintaro lightly bit your earlobe as you breathed hard, his sharp, cold gaze focused on a flushed red Oikawa standing across the room. “I have a better idea if you’re up for it.”

Arms crossed against your chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist in faux affection, when in reality you only needed to hear what he said through the loud music. “What do you have in mind?” The smirk on Rintaro’s face was as loud as a warning siren.

“Turn around.”

Even if you didn’t want to, Rintaro wasn’t asking. He spun you around by the shoulders, your back flushed against his chest when you felt his knee nudge between your legs once more. His fingers calloused from playing volleyball snaked past your thigh and dangerously close to your heated pussy. “This is what I had in mind,” he whispered, his voice sending tingles straight down your spine. “Let’s burn that pretty face of yours into his head. Show him what he can’t have.”

Your dignity told you to say no. To be fingered in public like this was less than ideal, even more so when your lace panties dangerously flashed into view. Yet, you found yourself arching your back to retaliate.

Ass nudging against Rintaro’s hardening cock, you smirked upon hearing his low groans. One palm cupped your ass as a warning before he playfully snapped your underwear against your thigh, a wince painting your half fucked out features from the sting. Glancing at him from the side, you sneered, about to protest when he wiggled his free hand and cupped your pussy.

Your mouth hung open.

Oikawa’s drink fell from his hands. No longer was he paying any attention to his friends, rather on the way you keened and your tongue threatening to loll out your lips the moment Rintaro’s thumb flicked your clit.

“You’re such a naughty slut. Who knew you were into this?”

“He’s watching, Rintaro,” you whimpered, gripping at his wrist like he wasn’t knuckle deep in your pants already. “Someone could see and think we’re—”

“That’s the point,” lowering his mouth onto your neck, you gasped at his teeth sinking down on the skin. Behind you, you could hear the hand on your ass disappear at the sounds of a belt unbuckling, fuelling your imagination to both the best and worst scenarios. Rintaro wasn’t far behind in his surprise as were you; you never expected you’d enjoy giving someone a show either, much less cum on the spot the second Rintaro’s cock slipped inside you. “Aw, fuck, did you just come undone for me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You shook your head, palms slippery with sweat as you held onto his slick hands squeezing your waist. The music was no longer audible from the pounding of your heart. Hell, you could barely feel your legs when Rintaro mumbled something incoherent around you before he guided your connected bodies onto a nearby couch.

Plopping down with your weight on top of him, you held onto his knees for dear life. Rintaro settled on the leather couch occupied by a stoned student laughing by himself, the latter’s chuckles halting when he was greeted by the sight of your hazy eyes and pants falling from your mouth. Meanwhile, Rintaro rested his arms on the back of his head. He didn’t have to lift a finger, much less give a command for you to know he wanted you to ride him right here — if you looked straight across, Oikawa would be right before you a few feet away, his frown deeply engraved into his face.

“Rin, I...”

He sat up in a flash at the hesitance in your voice, warm hands wrapping around your waist protectively. It took you a second to realize he hid his nestled cock from everyone’s prying eyes in case you weren’t comfortable, but the gesture did nothing but make you clench around him harder — both from the anxiety and anticipation.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you wanted people to watch. You wanted him to see Rintaro had total control over your body, no matter how humiliating the situation might be.

“Do you want us to stop? Should we go somewhere else?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you bent your legs to rest beside his thighs, fingers looping around the ones hooked under your breast to steady yourself before you lifted your hips, then slammed back down. Again and again, until sweat dripped from your head to your jaw, you kept eye contact with a red-faced Oikawa. All the while as you bounced on Rintaro’s dick and threw your head back, laughing with your whole chest at the lights spinning from the ceiling since it reminded you of the seventh heaven you were in.

Rintaro let you go at your own pace, his grunts and garbled utterances of your name blending with the party wilding from the background. You could feel him twitching inside of you. His cock bumped and grazed your walls until the tip kissed a particular sensitive spot that had you losing your balance for a moment, nails digging into his ripped jeans to catch your breath.

“Goddamn,” Rintaro cursed, stealing away your ability to breathe with his hand snaking into your neck. “You dirty fucking slut, getting off to acting like a whore in front of the whole campus, huh? Go on. Show them how you’re such a whore for my cock.”

You couldn’t swallow down your words.

Rintaro’s grip on your neck had you on a literal chokehold, strong enough to deprive you of air and tighten around him, but not to a point you felt lightheaded. If anything, the power he displayed only fuelled you to ride him harder. Drawing figure eights with your hip, you could feel drool smearing your lipstick as the red stains smudged against Rintaro’s palm, the sound of slick and skin slapping against skin like music to your ears.

Only Rintaro could ever make you feel this way.

From the night you’d met him, each time you fucked would be the best experience of your life. Not once had he failed in bringing you over the edge or experimenting with the most absurd positions you’d never thought of before, and now you were returning the favour.

You rode his cock like it was your last mission. ‘Death by cock’ didn’t sound like such an unfavourable thing either, not when it meant losing yourself in his thick girth spreading you wide and the lewd sight of your cum sticking to his thighs. His jeans were a mess, but Rintaro never complained. He didn’t care then, and he wouldn’t care now. Seeing you dirty his clothes, your sweat dampening his shirt and your own cum coating his cock like a rewarding trophy of what felt like the best night of his life — Rintaro didn’t give a single fuck about the mess.

“F-Fuck, Rin, I’m coming!”

Rintaro held your waist, taking over with complete control as he slammed your hips up and down his twitching cock, curses falling back and forth from his mouth. “Cum on me,” he ordered. Resting his chin on your shoulders, Rintaro’s other hand twisted your jaw in the direction of Oikawa biting his lip, his hand suspiciously following your movements from under the luminescent lights. “Look at that dirty fucker. Let’s show him what he missed out on, yeah?”

A burst of warmth exploded inside you. You were too stunned to move, thighs burning from the ache that you accepted it with delight before falling back into Rintaro’s chest. “That was the best fuck of my life,” you admitted through lidded eyes, “But we’re fucked tomorrow. The whole campus is going to talk about us.”

“Let them.”

Post-nut clarity hit you hard like a truck.

Albeit expecting the rumours and looks you’d be getting the next day, the blatant impressed stares mixed with some envious ones never got easier by the end of classes. Everywhere you went, people would be whispering. But like Rintaro always used to say each time you cried to him, there’d be light at the end of the tunnel, because the best part of it all that made everything worth it?

Oikawa avoided you like the plague. Not because he was appalled of what he’d witnessed and what he’d done, but rather word spread out how he’d been rejected.

For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru felt humiliation, at the hands of his own teammate, no less — something Rintaro took pride in when you crashed by his room that night.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face. It was priceless,” he snickered while scrolling through the phone, about to comment when the door swung open, revealing a carbon copy replica of Rintaro. In female version.

Rintaro quickly shot out of bed and threw a blanket over your head, stalking to the girl standing with her mouth hanging ajar at the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys wouldn’t be home until the weekend. Plus, how’d the fuck you get inside the dorms? You’re not supposed to be here, Remi.”

Remi ignored him. “Are you hiding your girlfriend? Mom needs to know about this, she’d love to meet her!”

That was how you found yourself stuck to Rintaro in a cramped booth with his family not an hour later. You awkwardly picked at your food, stealing glances at an equally silent Rintaro while his younger sister, Remi, kept babbling about how her brother hid a girlfriend this whole time. His family went out of town for business for a while, but since they got home earlier, they decided to surprise Rintaro with a visit.

He sure was surprised, and so were you since they hadn’t stopped calling you ‘dear’ ever since.

His parents were nice — they warmly welcomed you and even invited you to have dinner with them sometime at their house. Mrs. Suna would whip up a meal to welcome you as part of their family, saying that you should consider it a thanks for making their son smile. Remi was the most excited out of all them. She’d been wanting an older sister for a while now, and she hadn’t stopped clinging onto your arm the whole time until her parents forcefully snatched her away when it was time go back home.

The entire walk back to the dorms felt suffocating.

None of you spoke a word, not until you arrived at your building and Rintaro shoved his hands down his pockets, swinging back and forth on his feet. “So... are you free this Friday? You should come have dinner with us.”

“You’re seriously asking me that?”

“Why not? You’re invited. Don’t be rude and not go.”

“It’s not being rude, Rintaro, you’re asking me to lie to your parents,” you snapped, halting in your tracks to stare at him in disbelief. “They adored me all because they think I’m dating you, but we’re not the least bit close to that. We just fuck and call it day, maybe hang out when we’re bored, but we don’t know each other at all. And weren’t you the one who told me that we can’t be more than just fuck buddies?”

Rintaro rolled his eyes. “You’re right, but I agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend to push Oikawa away. Now do me a favour and keep up with the fake girlfriend thing. My parents will be devastated if I tell them we’re not real.”

“I don’t want to lie to them!”

“It’s not a big deal! Why’re you making a mountain out of everything? So because the deal on my side doesn’t require fucking, you’ll back out just like that?”

Your mouth hung open in shock. “It’s because I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend, Rintaro, I want to date you for real!” you blurted out, eyes widening at the same time Rintaro’s cheeks flushed. Realizing what you just said, you inwardly regretted it with a grimace. “I’m sorry. You said we can’t be more than that and I know I just ruined our friendship, but I’m really sorry. I can’t bring myself to lie to your family like that, and I don’t want to lie about my feelings either,” hanging your head down low, you bit the insides of your cheeks. No matter what you said, you couldn’t take it back anymore.

“Rintaro, I like you. You make me happy and I want to do the same for you, but I understand if we’re done now. It was nice to have met you.”

Without waiting for his response, you ran back into the building when a hand wrapped around your wrist. You stared at the long fingers and to the arm connected to it, heart sinking into your chest when you came face to face with Rintaro’s handsome face.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to speak.”

“I’m sure you don’t want to be near me, Rintaro.”

Rintaro sniffed, averting the intensity of your gaze and shrugging his shoulders shly. “On the contrary... I’d like to spend every waking minute with you,” he mumbled so soft that you wouldn’t have heard it if you didn’t listen hard enough, but you did, and you were left gaping at him with warmth spreading through your skin. You stood there, watching as Rintaro laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry if I said that a little too late, but yes. I’d like to be your real boyfriend. Then I can fuck you exclusively because I don’t think I like the idea of you riding other people like that.”

You swatted his arm away with a laugh. “That’s the reason you want to date me?”

“There’s other reasons too like how I love talking to you and I want to get to know you more,” he cupped your face, grinning when his palms felt the warmth emanating from your skin. “And also, I want to do this more with you.”

Leaning down, Rintaro kissed you under the flickering lights of your hallway, the both of your lips stretching into a smile. In a way, you were thankful your friends tried setting you up with someone else, because if you’d known it would lead you to realizing your feelings for Rintaro, you would’ve asked him to date you a little earlier.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you���ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

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