#imagine him getting up and. stumbling all pathetically. like a pathetic man.

[grunklefordpines]

Dr. Stanford F. Pines, here.

I’ve just regained consciousness on the shore of Lake Gravity Falls—My lips have the faintest fish taste on them, and every bone and joint in my body feels like they’ve been ripped apart and put back in-place.

There is an aching in my chest, a tangle of knots in my stomach—Something is caught in my throat. I can barely speak.

Mabel.

Mabel?

Where is Mabel. I need to find Mabel.

[webism]

pornstar!choso has a curated look that throws off a lot of his costars. strong build, straight-set face, hands made to choke and tear… most of those he film with don’t expect to be doted on the entire time.

people joke that pornstar!choso falls a little bit in love with every costar he fucks or gets fucked by. that glossy look that always pulls at his face by the time a scene ends, how his lip trembles with a need to be kissed raw when he cums. he says it's just the bliss of his orgasm—that he gets emotional in the moment, but it doesn't mean anything. well, until he meets you.

pornstar!choso who looks you up before his shoot because your name sounded vaguely familiar when it left his agents lips. he could have sworn you'd fucked before, because when he rolls the syllables of your name on his tongue they're nostalgic and taste like the sweat and laboured breaths of a long night between satin sheets. had you shot a scene together before? or had it been a one night stand?

pornstar!choso who realises that no, he hadn't slept with you before. but the familiarity of your name isn't a coincidence—he's fucked his fist to your videos more times than he can count. your name hits him like lightning, he had typed it into his search bar late in the night, cock hard and in need of instant relief. it's almost scary how well he knows you, what sounds you make when you get close to cumming, how you often arch your back and try to run from the overwhelming pleasure, how your eyebrows knit together when you're feeling so good it almost hurts.

pornstar!choso who realises with a now-red face that you probably don't have a clue who he is, and yet he's cum in time with you for months now. he's pretty sure he's drained his wallet at least twice on your cam shows... what if you recognise his name and piece it together with his username that he donates under? he debates cancelling the shoot, faking covid to get some time at home to hate himself endlessly.

but pornstar!choso realises that this is his chance to get to know how you really feel. he's imagined it so many times, as he fucked fake pussies or his closed fist using spit or his own cum as lube. you'd be warmer, undoubtedly tighter... so much prettier. and he wants to know more: would you prefer to take control and turn him into the toys he so often pretends are you? would you lay back all pretty and let him ruin you on his cock? how deep could you take him he knows he's big but you seem so eager, would you take him to the base with ease or would he have to force it in? bully your pretty pussy until it stretches to his shape?

pornstar!choso who hates the fact that your first, and possibly only, time together would be in front of a production crew and under the unsympathetic lights of a porn set. but he'd fuck on a stage in front of thousands if it means a taste of you.

pornstar!choso who makes it to the shoot before you do, comes ten minutes early to settle his anxieties and get a feel for the scene ahead. the director tells him its a simple shoot, that choso is meant to let you ride him for a while until you pull off and suck his cock for a nice close-up facial shot. the way the director speaks so clinically about sex with you makes choso grimace, he feels pathetic for feeling like this. like he'll be a changed man after feeling you around his cock, which is already painfully hard.

pornstar!choso who hates himself for stumbling over his words when he meets you. he wishes he had never looked you up, though he doesn't doubt seeing your pretty face like this would have wrecked his confidence regardless. you're kind, greet him with a shy smile as if he isn't about to slip balls deep inside of you.

pornstar!choso who, once he has you sitting on top of him on that bed—cameras pointed dutifully as you start to play your role and hike your skirt up so you can sink down on his cock—he can't handle the thought of fucking you like it's nothing, like it's not been the crux of his fantasies in the dark hours at night.

pornstar!choso who, probably to the detriment of his career, pushes you backwards onto the bed and connects his lips to yours in a kiss that surpasses every single fantasy he's had in his mind. you taste good, and he wants more. he speaks against your lips, asks whines a question that makes your stomach coil. 'can i eat you out first? please?'

pornstar!choso who is chided by the production team as he gets his head under your skirt and laps at your pussy in the most desperate act of need he thinks he's ever displayed. those that claim he falls in love with each shoot would be wholly correct in this case: he is in love with the taste of you, with the way your legs trap him in and ask for more. he could eat you for hours, run his tongue from your clit to dip it inside of you in reverence of the goddess he believes you to be. and you laugh at the absurdity of his hunger, at the courage it takes to run off script, and the pure need in which he eats you out.

pornstar!choso who only stops once the director threatens to cut the scene entirely. his cock hurts with how hard it is though, and he thinks the redirection of blood has made him lightheaded, because when he's made to sit back and let you sink down onto his length he swears he meets god.

pornstar!choso who can't help his whines as you ride him, an addiction already laying down roots in his brain. he has to try and think of anything less godly than you to hold on to his orgasm though, because the combination of your body and having subconsciously trained himself to associate you with climaxing is all too strong, and he's a hairs breadth away from cumming prematurely and ruining the scene.

pornstar!choso who realises as you continue, however, that your moans arent the same as he's heard them before, though the speakers of his phone. you're more breathy with him, your moans are less honeyed, more raw—as if coming from your chest rather than your throat. he wonders for a moment if he's not good enough, if you're having to fake your pleasure to save face for the cameras. but you're soaked, and even above the sounds of your shared pleasure he can still hear the squelch of his cock rutting in and out of you.

but before pornstar!choso can question himself further, your eyes are widening and you're latching a hand onto his throat as your pace increases. he can feel the way you tighten impossibly around him, the way your hips stutter and your pupils blow out with lust—you're cumming. and of course he remembers his instructions, to let you climb off of him and take his load over your face... but you're not climbing off of him.

pornstar!choso who understands the pointed look you manage to give him, that it's your turn to bypass the scene direction. you want to be greedy, to feel him finish inside of you, even through the confines of a condom. your moans arent fake, they're the first real ones you've let sound on a porn set—and choso is pulling them from your lungs like a choir's conductor.

pornstar!choso who can't last a minute longer, now with the way you lean in and coax him to climax with your voice, the soft praise that leaves your lips is an aphrodisiac and all too powerful. he sees stars when he cums, full blown galaxies too complex to imagine. call it an out-of-body experience or not, but choso is lost in his orgasm for long enough to warrant you bringing him back down with a soft kiss to his lips. he looks sinful: his hairs come loose, messy and stuck to his forehead. his eyes, though, are what's going to be the subject of a few screenshots taken by his fans: he looks totally infatuated.

pornstar!choso who, after taking a few minutes to settle himself after the shoot, watches as you walk over to him, a very pretty smile pulling at the corner of your lips before you lean down and peck his lips goodbye. he assumes it's the last he'll see of you, that there's no way he's worthy of every tasting you again. that night, he's scared to brush his teeth, to lose the way you linger on his tongue.

pornstar!choso who debates fucking his fist to the memory of you in bed that night. he thinks you've ruined masturbation for him, or sex in general: nothing could quite be the same. and as if its a sign from god that he's done enough good in his life to deserve some positive karma, his phone dings.

a photo of you, a pretty vibrator laid over your stomach. your laptop open in the background, his porn playing on the screen.

attached, a message that makes the poor boy cum in his pyjama bottoms. 'lets meet up again. i want to tie you up and film how stupid you get with a vibe strapped to your cock—a movie just for us, though. no audience.'

pt 2 in the works :p

[hon3y-y]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ roommate!sukuna just can’t get enough of you…

sukuna finds his perverted roommate getting fucked and can’t look away

cw: voyeurism, pervy reader & sukuna, (ft satoru), masturbation (m&f), light overstimulation(m), Non curse AU

pt 2: here<3 pt 3: here<3 pt 4: here<3

masterlist

enjoy<3

roommate! Sukuna knows you touch yourself when he has girls over, so he makes sure to make it extra loud, having the girls basically sobbing on his cock. Meanwhile, you pathetically listen through the walls separating your rooms, hand lowered into your panties, trying to stay quiet.

You listen to the whiny mess he turns all of his hookups into, hearing the clapping of skin on skin and babbling that the girl spews, clearly drunk on pleasure. roommate! Sukuna goes for so long, and you listen to every second like a pervert. You hear every word he spits and imagine it’s you who he’s calling ‘good girl’ or ‘pretty whore’, cumming as many times around your wet fingers as you can.

Of course, roommate! Sukuna didn’t always know about his little perverted roommate. That was, until you came home one night, absolutely plastered, stumbling onto nearly every surface from barely being able to hold yourself up. As Ryo tried to help you across the apartment, you confessed your dirty secret, staring up at him with tears about how ashamed you felt, begging him for forgiveness.

Meanwhile, he was throbbing in his pants at the thought of his cute roomie desperately trying to get off because she was just too scared to ask him to fuck her stupid. he could imagine it, the way you would hopelessly hump your fingers, knowing it’ll never feel like him. the image made his ego swell. All he did was pat your head and tuck you in, and the next morning, acted as if nothing happened. not that you even realized, the end of the night still blacked out from your memory.

You decide that enough is enough, feeling ashamed by how your lack of sexual activities is being forced on your unsuspecting (👀) roommate. That’s what got you into this position:  meeting some random guy in the club and bringing him home, hoping that maybe by getting a good fuck, you’ll stop your perversion.

You and your date's moves are frantic, practically ripping off each other's clothes and desperately grinding on each other for some sort of friction. You end up in your room, articles of clothing scattered across the apartment that you didn’t care about, too busy with your head buried into the pillow as your date, whose name you learned is Satoru, licked your pussy like a lollipop, moaning like it was the sweetest candy he’s ever tasted. 

Roommate! Sukuna had been sleeping when he woke up to a thud on the wall connecting your rooms. It was a light thud, usually something he’d ignore and go back to sleep, but then it was a constant creak, followed by the sounds of your whimpers. At first, he thought you were up by yourself, trying to get off while he was sleeping, until the deep voice of a man groaned, “Fuck—take it, baby—such a good fuckin’ girl" 

Ryo nearly jumped out of bed. In the year you two have been roommates, you never invited anyone over; it was only him who would have random hookups. This was new. and as much as it was pissing him off, the bulge in his pants made the situation a little more complicated. That’s how he found himself outside your room, peering into the cracked door to watch you take another man’s dick.

You looked like you were in ecstasy—the way your hands gripped the sheets and your toes curled, the pitched whines of “yes, don’t stop—please satoru~” His hand automatically moved to palm his cock, watching as this man, Satoru, forced you deeper into the sheets, pounding into your pussy. Besides the noises that escaped your mouth, he could hear the squelch every time he plunged into your sopping cunt, making Ryo’s mouth water at how wet you must be. It almost made him angry. That was his neglected pussy, and here this guy was enjoying it. 

Still, he couldn’t deny how hot you looked. Sukuna’s body was on fire, and he moved to stroke his aching cock while picturing it as him. It was him plugging up that sweet pussy and making you cream around his cock, fucking you until you were a mess of tears and cum, leaving you shaking and unable to walk. His knees became weaker, gripping onto the walls to stroke his cock faster, and he ran his fingers over his sensitive tip, making his jaw drop.

roommate! Sukuna came all over his fingers, having to rush his hand to his mouth to stop the groan he desperately wanted to let out. His body racked and shuttered with pleasure, painting himself in his own cum. He couldn’t stop, though; Satoru had flipped you over, and now he could see the look on your face.

You looked so fucked out, panting and spreading your legs because you needed to be fucked so bad. The slight scrunch in your brow made him feral, working past the overstimulation and using his own release as lube to keep going. it was messy and completely unlike himself, but the sight of you cumming was addicting.

roommate! Sukuna, who is left quietly panting outside your door, still messy from his own cum, and still desperately horny.

roommate! Sukuna, who is officially waving the white flag in this stupid game he’s had going on, you’re his, and no one-night stand is taking that away.

a/n: hiiii<3 i’ve been super busy bc this semester KICKED MY ASS but it’s ending 🙏 so i might write more, we’ll see😵‍💫 also, i have seen requests and will hopefully upload some soon? no promises though but i’ll try! :)))

[highvern]

Drive Me Crazy

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: smut

warnings: strangers to lovers, virgin!JK, dry humping, oral sex, cum eating

Length: ~3.7k

Note: yes i'm insane. no i won't be taking further questions. thank u @gyuswhore for chaperoning my descent into JK madness

summary: You're not the only one with a shitty dating life. Your driver seems to be having a worse night than you can imagine. But things take a turn for the better in the backseat of his car.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“Uber for Y/N?” you ask, stumbling into the backseat. “Thanks. God, you wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” the man, Ian according to the information on the app, gasps. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” You’re a wreck; makeup running, clothes damp from the rain peppering on the window. The last thing you want is some hot guy as your driver for the short journey back to your apartment but at this point you can’t muster the energy to care. 

“Uhhh—”

“You probably don’t want to hear about my shitty night.”

“Well that and—” he starts, cut off before he can say more by your tipsy motormouth. 

“Where does a man get off telling me he isn’t interested in gold diggers when he’s a public school teacher? No offense but what gold?” you ramble. “Not to mention, when I told the waiter to split the bill he asked if I thought he didn’t have any money. Like make up your mind dude.”

“What the fuck?” he asks lowly.

You nod in agreement, hands thrown wide in exasperation. “That’s what I’m saying!”

“That’s fucked up.”

The thickness of his voice doesn’t register in your mind, a broken edgy scratching at the edges of your brain but it doesn’t signal any significant interest “Oh, that's not even the worst part.”

“There’s more?”

“He said ‘I asked too many personal questions.’”

“Like?”

“What he liked to do for fun, if he’s originally from the city, do you like dogs or cats? Literally anything I could think of because apparently he’s allergic to carrying a conversation.” In your hand, your phone rings with an unsaved number. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is your Uber. Did you mean to cancel your ride?”

“What?”

“Ian from Uber? I’ve been circling the block and haven’t found you and you weren’t answering your phone.”

“Oh! I’m sorry I’ll just—cancel. Yep. Bye.” You stare at the equelly unease expression on Not-Uber Driver Ian’s face, muddled brain racing. If he isn’t your driver that means you got into the car with a random man. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you scream. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he yells back.

You fiddle with the door handle, unable to grab a hold with shaky hands. “Oh my god, you’re a kidnapper.”

“I’m not a kidnapper!”

“That’s what a kidnapper would say!” You fumble for the pepper spray in your bag only to find it absent. It’s not your usual bag. It’s the nicer one that barely fits your phone and chapstick. Damn it.

“YOU GOT IN MY CAR,” he argues.

He makes a good point. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried but you talk a lot.” 

Another good point.

“Oh my god, what the hell,” you gasp. “Why are you sitting here with the doors unlocked? I could have robbed you.”

“I used my last five bucks to buy this ice cream. Just kill me instead.”

You balk. “That’s so sad.” 

“Yeah, I’m aware.”

“You’re a horrible kidnapper.”

“And you’re a pretty shitty carjacker so I’d say we’re even.”

If he was dangerous he's had plenty of time to prove it. Instead, when he looks back over the center console, all you see is the red rimmed eyes of a kicked puppy with a bird nest for hair. A ridiculous expression for a man of his size but you pity him nonetheless. He’s harmless. Pathetic. But harmless. 

There’s a story about him and you’ve always been curious. “Okay, not-Ian, why are you sitting in a parking lot eating ice cream on a Friday night? Kidnapper thing aside, this is just sad.” 

He’s hot. Even in nothing but sweats and his own misery. The intimidating kind of handsome that people, men and women, pine over. Hand themselves over on a silver platter if he so much as asked.

“Thanks,” he grunts, going for another spoon of ice cream. 

“So why are you upset?” The rain outside intensifies, setting the scene to bare your souls in his cramped Toyota.

“Ugh…” he hesitates. 

“You don’t have to tell me, but I don’t think it can be any more embarrassing than what I just went through.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Why not? If it’s more embarrassing then I won’t steal a bite. Is that chocolate?”

“Cookie dough,” he corrects. “This girl I’ve been talking to ditched me.”

“Because?”

He prepares with a deep breath, steeling himself against whatever motive his fling had. “I’m a virgin.”

“What?” you ask dumbly. Virgin.

Chin tipped back, he swipes at his face in embarrassment. “I told you it's embarrassing.”

“You’re eating your feelings because you’re a virgin?”

“Yes.” He waits for your interjection. When it doesn’t come he hesitantly continues. “And the last person I told laughed in my face and started hooking up with my roommate. So…”

“What a bitch.”

“Yeah. People just assume I’m some kind of man whore.” He explains, head banging against the wheel. “But I’ve never done anything besides… ya know?”

“I have no idea, complete stranger.”

“Like hand stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a virgin,” you snort. “Move over, I’m coming up.”

Shimmying into the front seat takes more coordination than you’re prepared for. The hem of your dress rises to brazen heights, a draft curling around the edge of your panties. Its a feeling you assumed would be happening with your date and not in the car with a random stranger. But beggars can’t be choosers. At least it’s good ice cream.

He pointedly avoids looking anywhere close to your legs. Polite. Innocent. Virginal. How cute.

“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.” His eyes roll as you settle into the passenger seat, snatching the container and taking a bite from the same spoon he’d been using. 

“Sorry,” you say after swallowing. “Is it because you don’t want to? Because that girl can go fuck herself then.”

“No, I just, I don’t know. I get nervous? They’re expecting someone who knows what they’re doing and I have no idea. And then all I can think about is what if I’m bad at it which makes me more nervous and then I feel like throwing up.”

“Please tell me you haven’t thrown up on a girl.” 

“Ew, no,” he laughs, taking a bite for himself. “I just make an excuse to slow down and then leave.”

“Okay. Well…” You try to think of something, anything, that could make him feel better. It’s not everyday a stranger spills their guts about lacking sexual experience. “So what if you’re bad? It’s not like you can’t get better.”

“Okay, but what girl wants to sleep with a guy who’s bad in bed?”

“How do you know you’re bad if you’ve never even tried? It’s different if you’re bad and you don’t care. Just tell whoever you're with you’ve never done it before. If they don’t jump at the chance to teach you then they can fuck off.”

“Well, Mina rubbed my face in it—”

“Oh fuck her. She seems like a bitch.”

“You’re not wrong,” he says. 

Rain drizzles on the windshield, obscuring the lights into messy streaks. A flood of memories surrounding your own virginity rush to the forefront.

Your college boyfriend, Jimin, wanted to wait. It was cute. High school sweethearts going to the same school, taking similar classes, holding hands in the library. You thought he wasn’t ready and you respected it, found it endearing that he wasn’t like most of the guys your friends dated that couldn’t wait to do it.

Or you did until you decided to surprise Jimin for his birthday with breakfast in bed and got your own surprise. A girl, naked in his bed, Jimin’s own clothes scattered around the room.

You broke up with him right there. Two days of crying later, you invited your lab partner, the one Jimin couldn’t stand, over.

It was Yoongi that sent a selfie of you two cuddled up in bed to Jimin. He still likes to cash in on that favor whenever he needs a dog sitter.

Yoongi knew there were no feelings involved. A simple favor in the form of revenge against a shitty ex. Maybe not-Ian is your chance to pay it forward. By the looks of things, you wouldn’t be suffering.

“Ya know, some girls like guys who are inexperienced. It’s hot knowing you can teach someone how to be good in bed. Like an ego boost.” You shrug. If he wasn’t looking at your legs before but he sure is now. Pink ears and round eyes, his fingers twitch in his lap as you suck the spoon clean. At least the hour spent shaving your legs isn’t going to waste. “Besides, you obviously care how the other person feels, which is more than some dudes.”

“Why would someone not care if the other person feels good?” he asks, tone laced with disgust. “That seems like the entire point.”

“The world is full of mysteries.”

“My name is Jungkook by the way.”

Jungkook. Fitting somehow. It tastes good on your tongue. Like the cookie dough ice cream.

“Y/N.”

You end up in his lap in true stereotypical fashion. A too long silence, his eyes on your mouth and yours on his. Someone leans forward and now you know Jungkook is a great kisser with even greater upper body strength.

His inexperience shows in the fine details: shaky hands, hesitant tongue, waiting for you to take the lead as not to offend. It’s endearing. Someone as big as him treating you with such gentleness. But it means he’s thinking about messing this up and that’s the opposite of what you want. 

You kiss him deeper, a grip on the side of his neck that he eagerly surrenders too. Your other hand wedges between your chests. Teeth nipping at his lip, you rock against him, palming against the soft cotton sweats until he’s plump in your hand. 

“God,” he chokes. His own hands busy themself on your body, one at the seat of your ass, teasing the edge of your dress where bare skin peaks out while the offers a tight grip at your chest, pinching your nipple in desperate retaliation.

“Feel good?” You rut again, a tease for your own pleasure in the form of Jungkook’s heavy breath. It’s decent contact on your core, not enough to get you off but plenty for right now.

Kissing is well in his realm of experience. Obvious from how quickly he finds his bearings, licking behind your teeth. It’s good. Better than dry humping his thigh in the front seat should be. Vision dark from his hands frantic at your ass, thighs rising to meet every torturous curl against the heat of his lap.

You fall into his shoulder, drool staining his sweater as you pant. “Ever had your dick sucked?”

“No.” 

A vein raises across his neck and becomes your new guidemap. Your hand at his crotch squeezes, his cock twitching at the action. “Do you want to?”

“You don’t have to,” he hisses. 

You squeeze his cock again, enough for a needy drive of his hips in response. “I want to.” 

“Seriously?” he marvels.

“If it’s cool with you.” You nose along his jaw, teeth scraping red over his skin. His stomach dips under your hand. “Get in the back, I don’t need to get caught with your dick in my mouth.”

“Holy shit, don’t say that.” He kisses you again, firmer this time. 

You crawl back through the narrow opening between the front seats, ass on full display for Jungkook’s eyes. The heat of his palm ghosts over your legs but he doesn’t touch. The deliberate arch in your spine isn’t enough to break his self control just yet.

He comes next. The struggle is endearing, half stuck between the seats and wiggling forward. “I think I’m stuck.”

“Why didn’t you just go around?” You snort, grabbing around his arms and pulling to no avail.

“Too late now.”

You're both laughing. Breathless because Jungkook is lodged between the seats with zero hope. “Why are you so heavy?”

He wiggles through with your help, nearly elbowing you in the head in the process. But he’s in the seat with his lap as prime real estate. You try to commandeer the space once again but Jungkook stops you. Instead, he settles between your legs, weight pinning you into the door. Broad shoulders block out the light but you take it in stride, fisting the back of his sweater as he finds your pulse.

“Can I go down on you?” He nuzzles down your throat, mouthing the spots he’s learning make you putty in his hands.

“Yeah, sure,” you hiccup. “That’s fine.” 

Jungkook crams between your legs, bending in half on the floor like a contortionist. The sparse kisses across your thighs would be a blatant tease if nervousness wasn’t rolling off him in waves. He’s eating pussy for the first time and acting like it’s open heart surgery.

“Calm down.” You brush a hand through his hair, attempting to be comforting. 

“I am calm.” A bold faced lie. Even in the darkness of the backseat the signs of his impending nerves are obvious. 

“You’re shaking,” you say. “I’ll tell you what feels good. You’re not gonna mess it up.”

An open mouth on your core kiss leaves you sweating with a weak hum. At least he knows where the clit is. Or has a vague idea of its presence. Jungkook presses his face further into the cotton, suffocating himself without realizing. 

“O-oh,” you hitch.

Humiliation brews from such a visceral reaction to something as basic as a kiss over your panties. But Jungkook is out of his depth here and any reaction will stroke his confidence. 

He ducks away, watching you with rapt attention. You’re the teacher and he’s a student eager for whatever validation that may fall from your lips. “Good?” 

“Yeah, do it again,” you praise. 

He nods before diving back in, throwing your legs over his shoulders for better reach. Your pulse jumps with juvenile eagerness. Like it’s the first time you’re left with a boy unsupervised and his hand is the first real thing to touch you between the legs. It makes you feel dirty. Has your hairline sweat and tongue go dry. A bold wash of his tongue couples the next kiss, hot and wet as he laps against the fabric until your own arousal mixes with spit. 

"You fucking liar,” you croak. The back of your head knocks against the window, hips rolling into his mouth.

"What?” Jungkook asks, leaning back but just barely. His breath fans over your skin, a shiver crawling up your spine. “Did I do something—" 

“It’s good. So good,” you praise. “Touch me more.”

He jumps at the chance. Your panties tear down your thighs, out of the way with some rough maneuvering. Bare for his eyes, Jungkook takes more than a fill before diving in for another taste. But not until he spits on your clit and rubs in the mess with his thumb. Your thighs spread wider to accommodate a hard pass of his mouth, more wet kisses burning your cheeks.

“Jungkook, fuck,” you sigh. “When you said ‘hand stuff’ what did you mean?”

“I’ve touched a vagina before if that's what you're asking.”

You swat his hand. “Don’t say vagina, it makes me feel like I’m at the gynecologist.”

“Sorry, a pussy.”

“Don’t say it like that either, weirdo. Have you fingered one?”

Pointed silence is answer enough.

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna make fun of you. Just don’t put a finger in my ass and you’ll be fine.”

He doesn't laugh at your poor attempt to cut the tension but he releases a weighted sigh, muscles sagging an inch. Better. Instead, he focuses on stroking you to life between your folds, fingertips nudging your bud teasingly. 

“Use your mouth some more and then finger me too,” you beg. 

“Uh—how many? I don't wanna hurt you." He’s unsure despite the obvious twitch in your thighs. It burns depravity through your veins. His innocence is hot. Jungkook doesn’t even realize how fucked up he has you from some softcore porn level touching.

"All of them. I don't care, I’ll tell you if it’s too much."

One hand firm on your stomach, keeping your dress out of the way as he spreads your insides with two. The first strokes are meek. Nothing to scream over but he’s learning and that’s what's important. Seconds tick by and Jungkook finds a hesitant rhythm. Wet noises echo with each slow sheath, reserved but stretching you all the same. The wet strokes of his tongue are there too, placating just in case. A soft curl of his fingers makes your hips cant into his mouth. 

The fogged windows are a dead give away to what's playing out in the backseat. If anyone stumbles down the sidewalk then you’re both dead but Jungkook’s mouth is distracting in the worst way.

And then he licks between his fingers, tongue slipping past his knuckles for a pure taste of your arousal. You go fuzzy at the edges, thighs squeezing tight until he’s forced to keep them spread or risk having his head crushed.

“Oh–fuck me, god.”

It’s not fair. For him to be good at this so quickly. To delude himself into thinking he could possibly be bad, trying to convince you he’d be bad. Complete unfair how ill prepared you were for Jungkook worshiping your pussy like he’s never tasted anything better.

He really needs to be more confident because, in the cramped back seat of his car, you’re losing your mind and it’s barely been ten minutes.

“Can I—” he asks around your clit.

“Do whatever you want, just don’t stop,” you ramble. “Jungkook, fuck.”

A hand of your own sinks into his hair, angling his chin for better access. Wet echoes fill the car, sharp mewls from your lips adding to the noise. Nerves blazing, your ride his mouth for all its worth. Eager slippery circles of his tongue against your clit intensify, built on praising moans of his name.

“Fuck. Tastes good,” he grunts. A squeeze of your hand, the one not pulling his hair and then he’s finding your chest, blind groping until you guide him to your nipple and curve into the sting of his grip. He twists it. Hard. 

You want to cry. The sweat suck of his mouth, fingers confidently curling it that spot that makes the air thinner in your lungs. Moans die between your teeth. Too quick into the next sensation to revel. There isn’t a thought other than Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.

“Jungkook!” you cry, grinding into his fingers. Your teeth clench as a third one stretches that extra inch. Stiff in the thighs, you force yourself down into the friction. His tongue hardens, perfect for use as you hump his face weakly.

Your legs kick, scrambling under the sharp pleasure. He’s got you melting into nothing right on his carseat. Jungkook doesn’t lean back to ask for more confirmation; just takes the signs for what they are and keeps going with renewed stamina at the promise of your pleasure. 

“I’m gonna—oh, god. Yessss,” you hiss. Nails sharp against the back of his neck, Jungkook buries his face in your cunt. 

You go rigid, voice breaking into a desperate whimper. Jungkook has the sense to keep going, lashing at your clit over and over with each desperate pulse of pleasure through your veins. Flashes flare behind the darkness of your eyes squeezed tight. You make a few more desperate noises, lurching in his hold before falling lip and worn.

“Fuck, okay. Okay,” you whine, pushing him away from your core before the stimulation becomes too much.

His mouth is drenched, cheeks and chin smeared with your orgasm. A flash of tongue collects some of the mess but you drag him into a kiss before he can go for seconds. First time eating pussy and he’s one for one. If that doesn’t help his confidence then nothing else will. 

“Give me a second and I’ll blow you,” you pant into his lips. 

“I-it’s okay.”

You pout at the brush off, a deep kiss as you invade his space. “I promise I want to.”

Your hand goes for his pants just to be captured with his own. His fingers are still soaked from your insides. “No, I…I came too.”

“Really?” you ask in awe.

Jungkook is embarrassed again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s hot.” You kiss him again with a gentle suckle along the curve of his lower lip. Jungkook drinks it in, crowding you back into the door again like you aren’t a pile of mush. Your back hurts from hunching over for so long but you let him keep you tangled up for a little while longer just to feel the shuddering exhale from his nose across your cheek. “Can I see?”

He swallows thickly before rolling down his sweats. The thin fabric of his boxers are wet, sticky under your shaky hand. You dip below the waist band, fingers grazing the limp ridge of his cock. He’s stuck in the inbetween of soft and hard but still hot and heavy in your hold. Your core throbs in interest at the feeling. 

Jungkook shivers as you swipe at the slit, collecting a bead of cum. You want to get your mouth on him but he looks like he might cry if you keep playing with it.

When your hand retreats, rising to your lips for a taste, his eyes round, mouth gaping over silent words. The pink of your tongue comes out, lapping at the thick mess coating your thumb. 

“Is it okay if I get your number?” he asks after the initial shock wears away.

“Yeah,” you snort. “You can have my number. You can give me a ride home too. And we can do that again in my bed.”

The glee on his face is worth the disgusting mess between your thighs. “Hell yeah.”

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

@seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin @isabellah29

@luvseungcheol @crisle19

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[everyonewooeverywhere]

NSFW BLOG | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

chapter 2 : dirty bastard

part 1 | masterlist

summary: when you come into his shop to get your boyfriend's car fixed, yunho can help but wonder what a hardworking, pretty girl like you is doing with someone so...pathetic. and maybe, just maybe, he feels like he could treat you better.

pairing: cowboy mechanic!yunho x female!reader

genre: non-idol au | strangers to lovers | angst | fluff (no smut yet, but there will be eventually)

rating: pg-13 (18+ for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually)

word count: 4.7k

content/warnings: pet names (sweetheart, doll), toxic relationship, yeonjun slander 😞 (again, sry baby)

notes: again, thank you @ateez-main-yapper for being my ride or die with this one 🫠 literally would have never finished this without her (and yes im gonna say that for every chapter get used to it ☺️💗)

The apartment was quiet for the rest of the evening. You’d stopped going to Yeonjun’s gigs ages ago, so you usually had the entire evening to yourself. It was nice, a relaxing way to wind down. It felt like you lived alone in this little apartment for a few short hours. After clearing away all the scattered beer cans and paper plates scattered around the living room, you could live in your little bubble of delusion. A single girl, just enjoying her quiet after a long day.

You tried to keep your previous argument with Yeonjun out of your mind. It wasn’t really a new one. He’d always been wildly insecure around any of your male friends, even though most of them were the boyfriends of your female friends, and it was a disagreement you’d had several times. 

He’d never acknowledge the hypocrisy of him having plenty of female friends who hung around him and his bandmates, though. Girls who either didn’t care that he had a girlfriend or simply didn’t know. Being the man that he was, you couldn’t help but assume the latter. 

No more Yeonjun thoughts. You told yourself. He was going to be gone the rest of the night, so it was better that you kept him out of your head. 

And as you watched the TV you found it was pretty easy to keep him out of your mind, especially when thoughts of another man slipped in so much easier.

The feeling of Yunho’s arms wrapped around your shoulders lingered. The way he’d held you so close and rubbed your back was so comforting. His soft whispers of reassurance floated through your head as if he was still there. As if he was curled up on the couch next to you, holding you because he knew it brought you comfort.

You were baffled at your lack of guilt over the fantasies of being cherished by a man who was certainly not your boyfriend, especially when said man had made it pretty clear that he would’ve made advances toward you had you been single.

But you couldn’t find it in you to care.

And when Yeonjun stumbled into the apartment at two in the morning, you were lying awake in bed. You felt the bed dip as he rolled himself toward you, drunkenly wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into him. “Mmh…Love you, baby,” you let him place a wet kiss on the back of your neck, “M’sorry.”

You didn’t pull away. Letting him hold you close. Imagining the slurring of his voice in a charming southern accent. And wishing the smell of alcohol on his breath was gasoline.

Yunho called you at noon the next day telling you the car was ready for you to pick up. He said that it had been a much quicker job than he’d first anticipated. 

His soft southern drawl floated through the phone's speakers, “You need a ride over? I can bring ya some coffee, too.”

A heartfelt smile spread across your lips, “Oh thank you, Yunho. But I think I’ll just have my friend drive me over... If you…happen to still be getting coffee, though…”

The sound of his chuckle made your stomach flip, “I’ll grab ya somethin’, Doll.”

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem. Send me your order and whatever your friend wants, and I’ll have it ready for you when you get here.”

He hung up not long after. Huffing and complaining that “Mingi’s being needy.” 

“Okay,” you let out a breathy laugh, “Bye Yunho. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you later, Doll.”

You felt an odd sort of guilt over how excited you were to see him, and you felt like you had to consistently remind yourself of your own relationship when you were around him. But it was so hard to mask the way he made you giddy every time he called you “sweetheart.” And nothing could compare to the way “Doll” rolled off his tongue.

You quickly saved his number in your phone before calling up your friend, praying that she was free so you wouldn’t have to call Yunho back and tell him that you actually did, in fact, need a ride.

She picked up in seconds, “Hey, babe! What’s up?”

“Hey Ro, you free this morning?” 

You heard an excited gasp, “Yes, please! I don’t care what it is. My mom set me up on another blind date, and I’m like ninety percent sure he’s her pastor’s son. And I’ve met the guy a couple times, and he really gives me the creeps. Please give me an excuse to not go!”

“Rosie, how many times do I have to tell you that you can stay at my place if you need to avoid your mom and her date choices?” 

“Babe, I love you, dearly. But there is no way I am sleeping on that couch of yours. I don’t think Yeonjun could keep it clean if he tried.”

You shrugged, “We could always kick him to the couch.”

“Yeah, not sure I want to deal with that, either.”

“Ok, well I actually need to go pick up his car from the mechanic today. Do you think you could give me a ride?”

She gasped again, and you swear you heard something thump against the floor on her end, “Oh my god! Please please please tell me you went to the shop I suggested!”

You laughed, “I mean, I didn’t really have any other options.”

There's a rushed squeal of joy, followed by the sound of her bedsprings crying out in pain as she launched herself off of it, “Hold on, let me put on a better outfit, and I’ll see you in like an hour, okay?”

“Take your time. There’s really no rush.”

“Oh no no no. There absolutely is a rush. Can’t leave any opportunity for someone to swing by and swoop Mingi off his feet before I get the chance.” You loved her dedication to this, “Hey, by the way…just out of curiosity, what color was his hair while you were there?”

“Uhh, it was platinum, I think,” clearly you hadn’t spent much of your time thinking about Mingi’s hair. Or any part of him for that matter. You had other things on your mind.

Her groan bordered on a moan, “Fuckkk, girl, he’s so hot. I need that man more than I need air.”

“Ok, well, finish getting ready, and then come pick me up, and you can get your fix! Oh! And tell me what kinda coffee you want.” 

“Alrighty!” Her excitement was clear as day in the tone of her voice.

She pulled up to your building a little over an hour later. Looking absolutely stunning. Her hair was perfectly done up, and she was wearing the purple cardigan and white pleated skirt she had bought when you two went to the mall last month. 

“You look cute.” You pulled her in for a hug.

A bright grin pulled at her lips as she squeezed you tight, “Thank you.” She leaned back but held onto your shoulders, “So do you!”

You smiled softly at her, “Really?”

“Yes.” You knew she’d never tell you otherwise, and you truly believed she'd never even considered that she could be wrong. But part of you really needed to hear her reassure you on it today.

She finally let you go after a few seconds and looked around the kitchen, “Where’s the coffee?”

“Oh! Actually the mechanic is getting it for us.” 

Rosie raised an eyebrow at you, “The mechanic is getting us coffee?”

“Mhm. He was actually so sweet yesterday. Drove me home, too, because Yeonjun refused to give me a ride,” You sighed as the events played through your mind, “Jun and I actually got into a huge fight in front of him, and he was nice enough to…check on me after it was all over.”

Her eyes were wide as she grinned up at you, “And he’s buying you coffee this morning?”

“Yep.”

She looked beyond excited at this knowledge, “Is he cute?”

“Rosie.” You glared down at her. 

“What? I’m just curious,” A giggle bubbled out of her throat

“Curiosity should have its limites Ro, I’m in a committed relationship” 

Rosie scrunched her nose and mumbled something under her breath. You couldn’t make it out, but you had a clue. There was no bigger Yeonjun hater on the planet than her. And as much as she tried to keep in underwraps out of respect for you, there was no hiding how deep her distaste for him ran.

But you placed a hand gently on her shoulder, gestured her to the door, “Come on, girl. Let’s go.”

As you pulled up to the shop for the second time in the past twenty-four hours, you couldn’t help but start to feel a little giddy. You fidgeted with your hands in your lap, trying to control your excited anxiousness, but you couldn’t deny the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach when that baby blue pickup came into view. 

“We’re here~” Rosie sang. Flipping down the visor to reapply her lip gloss in the mirror. She flipped it up just in time to see a very sweaty Mingi manually pulling open the garage doors. “Oh fuck.” She turned to you, “Babe, I love you, but will you be okay on your own?” 

The pleading look in her eyes made you giggle. “Go for it girl.” 

She giddily slid out of the car and jogged up to the building, leaving you to gather your things with a bit more apprehension in your step. It would have been a bold-faced lie to say you weren’t nervous. Crushing hard on a stranger when you were already in a relationship made you a little sick with guilt. As much as you and Yeonjun fought, being unfaithful to him was the last thing on your mind. Regardless of how you felt about him, you trusted your own character that much at least.

You watched as Rosie and Mingi talked with each other. The flirting blatantly obvious from both parties. You were so glad to see her enjoying herself. Dating had been a nightmare for her because of her mother’s incessant prying into her life. And it had gotten so much worse as of late. Rosie turning twenty-five last month with still no signs of marriage was turning her mother into a bit of a monster. Setting her up with men with questionable histories just because she knew that they would want to get married fast and give her grandchildren. 

And while you didn’t know him, Mingi seemed like a great guy. He was absolutely her type, at least. She always had a thing for rugged car guys, so maybe his occupation was a sign from the universe herself that he might just be the one.

A knock on the window of Rosie’s car startled you out of your thoughts, making you drop your purse on the floor, tearing your gaze away from your friend. Oh. Yunho was standing outside smiling at you. You pushed the door open.

He tipped his head toward you in greeting, “Hey Doll, how ‘re you?”

“Oh…I’m alright,” you grabbed your purse off the car floor and finally looked up at him. He looked…good. Really good. Wearing another button up flannel and that same fucking beige cowboy hat.

He held a cup out for you, “Your drink.”

“Oh! Thank you.” You couldn’t help the heat rising in your cheeks when his fingers brushed your own. 

He glanced over at your friends who were getting very close as Mingi showed her the engine of a car. Yunho chuckled, “I’ll leave hers on the workbench. I don’t wanna interrupt that.” “That’s probably for the best,” you laughed, following him into the garage. 

He set Rosie’s drink down on the bench, taking the opportunity to lean down towards you, “He’s talked about her a lot, you know?” He lowly whispered in your ear. 

Pulling back, you fought the urge to shiver at his breath brushing your cheek, “Really?”

He nodded, “Spent a long time gettin’ ready this morning, too”

“Well, she was beyond excited to drive me, so I’d say it’s pretty mutual,” biting your bottom lip. Trying to hide how giddy that knowledge made you feel.

You both glanced over at them and saw Mingi’s hand on the lower part of her back as he reached to show her something inside the hood.

“I think that part’s pretty obvious.” He chuckled and turned his attention back to you, “Well, I got ‘er fixed up for ya.” He patted the hood of Yeonjun’s car. 

Your mind was so focused on the proximity of Yunho’s body to yours that you hadn’t even realized that the car was right behind you, “Oh my gosh. Thank you so much, Yunho. This has been stressing me out for a while. I’m so glad it finally got done.”

The whisper of a smile on his lips did nothing to mask the pity in his eyes, “It’s not a problem at all, Doll. You’re an incredible partner for getting it fixed for him.”

An awkward laugh escaped your mouth, “I sure try.”

“You’re doin’ great, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you muttered. A little embarrassed by his flattery.

“And before I forget! I gave her a full detail for ya, too.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that…” But your heart fluttered, “What do I owe you?”

He shook his head, “It’s on the house.”

“What? Yunho no. I can’t let you do that.”  You started fishing in your purse for your wallet, “Please let me at least pay you for the work yo–.” You peered into your purse to see nothing but your phone, a tube of lip gloss, and a panty liner you kept on you for emergencies. You grumbled, “I forgot my wallet.”

Yunho laughed, “Then I guess that’s settled.” He swung open the driver side door, “Here, have a look.” 

“Thank you,” you sighed in defeat.

“Oh! Before I forget.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a little pink digicam, “Found this on the floor in the backseat. Figured you might want it back.”

He placed it in your hands and watched as you tentatively flipped it over. Running your finger gently over the power button, but not pressing it hard enough to bring the device to life.

“Let me go grab some paper work, and then you’ll be good to go. Alright, Doll.”

You nodded but didn’t look up, too focused on the weight against your palm, “Ok.”

The cold metal felt unfamiliar in your hands. Its shiny surface reflecting a distorted, pink version of your face back at you. Yeonjun had never been the sentimental type, and the little heart stickers covering the front were not characteristic of him. You rested the beaded strap in your palm, the pearly white and blue glass beads smooth to the touch of your thumb. The name "Camryn" spelled out in bold, white lettering on powder blue hearts.

Yeonjun had female friends, you knew that. They weren’t exactly the quiet sort, their chatter and laughter usually spilling out the windows of Soobin’s car when he would pull up to your apartment. You’d never seen them as a cause for concern. But what would they be doing in his car? Yeonjun never drove himself to gigs or bars or parties. He always had someone else drive him, so how did his friend’s camera end up in the backseat?

Slipping your hand through the beaded strap, you flipped the camera over in your hands. The black screen staring back at you. Your thumb finally pressed the power button, and you watched as the little screen lit up. Flashing a logo at you before the lens pushed itself out and the screen showed your boots below you.

Hesitantly, you opened the gallery. The first photo was a selfie of a girl in a mosh pit huddled close by three other girls who all grinned up at the lens. And as you flipped through the gallery a bit of relief began to creep in. They all seemed to be photos of a girl partying and enjoying nightlife with her friends. But you kept scrolling. 

And you eventually reached a photo of Yeonjun. He was grinning at the camera. Happier than you had seen him in years. You frowned at the photo, trying to recall the last time he looked at you like that. 

It only took two more clicks for you to reach the first video. You pressed play without even hesitating for a moment.

A giggle seeped through the small speakers on the side, the sound coming out muffled due to the camera’s poor quality. A girl, who you assumed to be “Camryn” was placing the device on a table, clearly aiming to film something. You heard a male voice come from behind her but you couldn’t make out any of the words. When she turned around, you could see Yeonjun lounging on the couch in front of her. His arms splayed out on the back of it. 

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you knew was coming next. 

And as you watched the scene play out, your fears were unmistakably confirmed. She slid onto his lap and let him wrap an arm around her waist.You couldn’t make out his voice, but the way he called her “baby” was impossible to miss.

You could feel your heart pounding out of your chest. The video kept playing, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The way he held her and cupped the back of her head made your stomach turn. Her jacket fell away, and he pulled down her dress, exposing her bare back to you. He was leaning in to kiss her chest when you watched as the camera fell forward on the table she’d propped it up on. Your view became obstructed but you could still hear the muffled sounds of her moans.

You dropped the camera from your hands, letting it swing as it hung from your wrist. Everything felt so heavy. The legs under you didn’t feel like your own. Everything felt disconnected. You couldn’t stop the shaking in your hands or the bile that rose up in your throat.

It felt as if the floor was crumbling under you, and when your knees gave out, you would’ve tumbled into the cool cement beneath your shoes if it weren’t for the pair of arms that caught you before you hit the ground.

“Woah woah woah.” Yunho’s voice came from above you, “Hey, what’s wrong?” You couldn’t even muster up the energy to look up and meet his eyes.

“Y/n?” You heard Rosie run up behind you. Yunho let her take you into her arms. She saw the camera swinging from your wrist and slipped it off. And seeing the video playing on replay answered any questions she would’ve asked you. “Oh babe.” She pushed the camera into Yunho’s hands and wrapped her arms around you tightly., “I’m so sorry,” she whispered into your shoulder.

Just the comfort and familiarity of her arms around you made you break down to tears. You gripped onto her shirt for dear life. She ran a comforting hand over your hair. Letting you cry into her arms. 

You had no idea how long she held you like that. But when you pulled away, Mingi and Yunho were clear across the other side of the shop, giving you your privacy.

Rosie wiped a tear from under your eye. “I asked Mingi if he could drive the car back,” she refused to even utter Yeonjun’s name, “I don’t think you should drive like this.”

You nodded, “Ok.”

“Do you want to go back now?” She asked apprehensively.

You took a deep breath, “Yes.” You didn’t have any other words. The sadness inside you was fading into anger, and you didn’t want anyone here to see that part of you.

Yunho came back over. He held the camera out to you, “I figured you might want this back. Might make it easier to…confront him.”

Your lips formed a tight smile, “Thank you, Yunho.” You looked up at him, missing the flutter in your heart that his eyes had given you just several minutes earlier, “You’ve been a really big help. I’m sorry you did all it for some asshole who…” You couldn’t say it out loud yet.

He shook his head, “I didn’t do it for no dirty bastard like that. I did it for you, Doll. Because that’s only the smallest fraction of what you deserve.”

You could only muster out another small “thank you” before Rosie was leading you to her car. And you watched as he stood in the garage door and watched you both drive away.

The numbness was starting to wear off by the time Rosie pulled her car into the lot below your apartment. You could feel the anger seeping into your blood as she parked and turned off the car. A million explanations for why your partner of six long years would cheat on you playing through your mind like a broken film reel. 

He’d stopped being attracted to you when your long work hours stopped you from putting as much effort into your appearance as you used to. 

He’d only stayed with you so he’d have a place to sleep and food on the table. 

He was using you. 

He never really loved you.

You wished he’d never really loved you. 

Gently, she grabbed your shoulder to get your attention, “Do you want me to come up? I’ll wait outside the door if you’d like. Or do you want me to wait down here?” 

“Can you just wait here?” 

She nodded and gave your shoulder a light squeeze, “Ok. Call me if you need me. I’ll be right there.” You couldn’t even formulate a response before you slid out of her car. Mute with anger as you rode the rickety elevator up to your floor. Racking your brain over and over and over again for some sliver of a reason for how he could do this to you. After everything you’d done for him and everything he’d put you through. After everything you’d been through together. Memories of the days back in college when you’d spend long nights out together at bars and crash out on the couch in each others’ arms swirling together with the anger swelling in your chest. Making you sick with distress and confusion. 

Where did it all go wrong?

When you stepped through the door, the quiet air of the apartment felt so unfitting for your swarming thoughts. Of course, he was still asleep. 

But not a sliver of your existence cared when you threw the bedroom door open, letting it slam back against the wall. He didn’t stir. In fact, he didn’t even show a single sign of life until you kicked the bed with the toe of your boot.

When did everything you’d given him stop being enough?

He groaned and lifted his head to glare at you, “What the fuck?”

He had to have loved you at some point, right?

“Get up.”

Where did that end?

“Oh god, what did I do now?”

How did those two carefree lovers end up here?

“Get. Up.”

He sat up and reached into the nightstand for a shirt, “Will you save the nagging for one fucking second? I have a headache.” He pushed himself up from the bed with a huff, striding past you to get to the kitchen, “Is this about yesterday? I don’t want to talk about that right now. Not like you ever fucking listen to me anyway. All high and mighty think you’re better than me beca–” 

Every bone in his body froze when he saw the camera sitting on the kitchen counter. He snapped out of his daze, realizing a little too late that you’d followed him out of the bedroom, and had been staring at him from across the counter. Watching his whole body stiffen in place.

Guilty. 

“Who is she?”

“Who the hell are you talking about?” 

Liar.

He wouldn’t even look you in the eye. Gesturing vaguely at the dusty pink digicam. “What even is this?” 

“I am not in the mood to play stupid games with you. Who. Is. She?”

“Do I have to say it twice? I don’t fucking know.”

Did he think you were an idiot?

You slammed your hand down on the countertop, trying to stop yourself from screaming for the neighbor’s sake, “Will you fucking stop!? Turn around, look me in the eyes, and tell me you’re not fucking cheating on me!”

Maybe you were an idiot.

His shoulders slumped in defeat. “She’s just a groupie. Comes to our shows sometimes.” He turned to you, mood shifting to desperation, “It wasn’t anything serious, I swear. We never did more than kiss. She doesn’t mean anything, baby please.”

An idiot for buying into his apologies and excuses for so, so long.

You were thankful in that moment that you were still too numbed by shock to cry. A bitter laugh bubbling out of your throat instead, “A groupie? You don’t fucking have groupies, Yeonjun. And there is practically a sex tape on that camera. Don’t play dumb with me.”

“Shit, baby, come on. I’m sorry. It really didn’t mean anything. I was just drunk and stupid and got caught up in the moment.”

You were done. 

“Stop! Stop lying. Stop making up excuses! I don’t care! You cheated on me Yeonjun! That’s the fucking issue here!” You paused to take a deep breath, “I don’t care why. I don’t care what the circumstances were. I don’t care how bad you feel. I care that I’ve spent six years making sure you have a roof over your head and food on the table without you ever having to lift a finger, and instead of a ‘thank you, baby’ all I get is you fucking around with other girls.”

He grabbed your hand, and you let him bring it up to his lips and kiss your knuckles. Beyond numb to the feeling.

“We’ll work this out, baby. I swear. I’m so sorry. I’ll help out around the house! And I’ll start looking for a job I swear.” 

You nearly scoffed. 

“That’s great, Yeonjun,” and you saw him get excited at the prospect of winning this, “But you can do that somewhere else.”

Panic rose in his eyes, “Baby, no. Come on! We can work through this.” His hands started shaking as they held your own, “I can’t lose you.”

“I want you gone by tomorrow afternoon.”

“What?” He froze, “What the fuck? You’re kicking me out!? Where do you expect me to go?”

“Fuck if I care. You should’ve thought about that before you cheated on me. For fuck’s sake you should’ve thought about that before you decided to put your pathetic excuse for a band before me. Before us.”

Anger flashed across his face, and he dropped your hands as quickly as he’d held them. “You know what? Fine. You were never anything but a bitch anyway. You never supported me or my music. At least she knows talent when she sees it.” 

The sound you made was more than a little unnerving, laughter ringing through your small apartment. “Nice to know you already prefer her over me. Hope she’s got room for you on her couch tonight.”

He ignored you completely. And you watched as he threw on his shoes and stormed out of the apartment. Slamming the door behind him. You had no idea where he was going, but you didn’t care. It would only take you a couple of hours to pack up all his stuff, and maybe you could leave it at the curb so he’d never have to step foot in your home ever again.

But as his footsteps faded down the hallway, silence enveloped the small space. You could feel the anger collapsing in on itself.. The pain you’d been bottling up for the past couple of hours finally overflowing. And the man who you’d spent years of your life trying to “fix” couldn’t have cared less about anything you did for him. 

He couldn’t care less about you.

And as you sank to the floor of your kitchen, you felt the weight of all the time and energy you’d wasted on him. Of all the tears you’d shed and money you’d spent. All the love and youth you’d given. And you knew deep down it was as much your fault as it was his.

ok cowboy: @saintriots @ateezswonderland @fairyofhueningkai @acetyu @kyeomofhearts

@mimikittysblog @pale-hummingbird @deadbabiesmom @moonlightgrleric @cheriediosa

@afetepositivamente

general taglist: @swimmingkpopblog @oddracha @drinkingrumandcocacola @minaateez @funnyvxlentine

@sunnysidesins @skzdust @princelingperfect

ateez taglist: @certifiedmoa @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @curiousgworge @hyukssunflower @hotteokisms

@sushiinmidnight @atiny-dime-p1ece @mismatchfluffysocks @vic0921 @vampzity

@breadpuddingboys @woolysium @desirehorizon @im-ovulation @pommelex

@dancingwithdeities @maidens-world @jycas @kirbrary @aftertherain-atr

@staytinyinmybpack @m4n4-s4m4 @jjcanwrite @yvnhoos @uninterested-ghost

@yizhou-time @shinyj3lly @kyeos4ng @prettygirlslietoo @miriamxsworld

@tiny2018 @ttdogsworld @kejingken @fandom-freak-geek @painted-hills

[jesuistrestriste]

30s art donaldson tired af from tashi working him to the bone. so tired that he just wants to lay down but is also very horny cuz when is that man not and he asks reader “can you please just sit on my face” in a really quiet whimper or smth idk (i really just want to read about sitting on art’s face lol)

when art showed up at your door, sweaty and tired and flushed all over, you knew that you wouldn't be able to resist his pleas for attention. the exhausted, slightly defeated look in his pretty blue eyes had you weak all over. it was just no use.

he looked like a kicked puppy.

or maybe just a really over-worked man.

but that was beside the point.

you ushered him inside, cupping his face and cooing at him in all the ways you knew that he needed you to. he pouted. he whined. you could practically imagine a tail tucked between his legs. his coach must have really chewed him out during practice. he had been on a downward spiral in terms of his ability to win for the last few months. it had been rough, to say the least.

he kicked off his shoes and stumbled over to your living room floor, sitting down on the carpet where he opted to stretch his hamstrings. you sat in front of him and ran a hand through his damp hair. he leaned into your touch instinctually, and then buried his face into your neck as his hands slid to hold your lower back.

you embraced him and rubbed his back, hearing him let out little noises of contentment as your palms caressed circles over his aching body. you pressed a kiss to his neck. he tasted like salt and self-doubt, which was not unusual for him after he had just freshly come back from the courts.

he moaned softly against you and then his lips were on yours with a tender ferocity that he always carried. his tongue was eagerly slipping past your teeth to lick at yours, and then he was pulling you closer and furrowing his brows.

"Please," he whispered against your lips as he tilted his head to change angles. his dick was already hard. that's how easy it was for you to get him worked up.

"What-" you pause, kissing him deeper, "What is it?"

his hands gripped your hips.

"Can you please just sit on my face?"

you felt your body warm up instantly at the sound of his whimpered plea, like a bucket of hot spring water had been dumped over you, and you nod slowly against his lips.

within thirty seconds, he was laying flat on his back on your floor, and the clothing on the lower half of your body had been removed and tossed aside to unknown places.

you crawled up his form, and he watched your every move with bated breath, letting his fingers ghost over your body as you inched your way up to his mouth.

when you finally hovered above him on your bent knees, pussy just inches away from his desperate tongue, he immediately shuddered underneath you and looked up to your eyes with a look that begged you before he could even get the right words out.

"C'mon, please.." he moaned pathetically, hands now grasping at your torso and trying to pull you down to him.

you smile, biting your bottom lip.

"Ask me again."

his hips lifted up from the carpet, bucking into the air and affectively jolting the both of you. it was an accident; he didn't mean to. it was just that his mouth was watering and he was too fucking aroused to think properly.

"Will you sit on my face? Please?"

and with that, you lowered your wet core down to his mouth and relished in the way that he immediately groaned into you. his hands tightly held the back of your thighs as his lips suckled on your clit and his tongue lathed sloppily over your slick folds. his tongue darted in and out slowly from your hole, trying with everything in him to taste all that he possibly could.

you rocked your hips over his face, smearing his chin and the tip of his nose with your slimy arousal, but he couldn't have asked for anything better. he loved this. he craved this with everything in him. he wanted you to sit on him like this for however long you could stand it. he could die like this and be happy.

your orgasm built quickly thanks to his expert knowledge on what and where you liked to be kissed and tongued, and he let you gush over his face until you were shaking like a leaf. he gulped every drop down.

at the tail end of your climax, you felt his body shake below you, his eyes rolled back into his head as he gasped and murmured muffled words into your sopping cunt. you arch your back and pivot your body to look down at his form, and your eyes are instantly drawn to the wet patch soaking and growing over the fabric of his gym shorts.

he made you cum a second time after that. and then a third. and a fourth. your hands stayed tangled in his hair through each one, and you called out his name every time the waves of pleasure rushed through you.

even though you wanted art to feel better about himself in terms of his tennis career, there were certain.. perks to him feeling down about it. making you cum let him feel like a winner again, so you were going to ride this low-point of his for as long as you could. you knew he wouldn't mind.

[pedge-page]

Whatever You Say

Stepdad!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: this was supposed to be a 3 sentence "imagine this!" But i just kept... going.

Summary: Joel's determined to be the father you need and the husband your mom deserves. That all comes crashing down when he accidentally misunderstands your intentions.

Warnings: unprotected sex, stepdad!Joel, switch!Joel, pathetic step dad, voyeurism, panting sniffing and stealing, f and m masturbation, manipulation/black mail, dub con, Daddy kink, riding, sub!joel, rimming, humiliation kink, cum play, cheating

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Genuinely nice, kind, wanting to do the right thing Step!Dad Joel trying to be a good man to your mom and fit in with you. Despite your aversion to him, he knows you're an adult now and you probably aren't on board with the whole "new dad" thing so late in the game. Still, he gives you your space but also actively inserts himself into your family, trying to get your stubborn self to open up to him and accept him.

His assumptions are wrong, when he crosses passed your cracked bedroom door one night and hears you moaning "Daddy!" While rubbing your clit. He gasps and covers his mouth, unable to draw away from the sight of your slick pussy glistening in the moon light from the window.

He should turn away right now, burn the vision and memory from his brain, but your sweet soft whimper of "Daddy please..." followed by a high pitched groan, and the schlickslick sounds of your finger working through your folds has him planted in place, mesmerized.

"Daddy's here," he hums under his breath barely over a whisper, not removing his tranfixed gaze from your naked wreathing body in bed as he fishes out his leaking cock and begins to pump it with his fist. He would have genuinely never guessed, never picked up on how needy you had been all this time for him. Too busy denying yourself and pushing him away when you really needed him shoving his cock right into your aching little cunt.

He's practically salivating. Each time you let out a "Daddy m'gonna cum, wanna cum on your cock!" He can feel his length pulse wildly in his palm.

"Cum for Daddy!" he rasps, jaw dropping in a silent please as he bursts over the lower panel of your door. At the same time you arch your back, tits piercing the air while your orgasm tears through you.

He steadies his breathing as low as possible, still not sure if he's dreaming. His vision regains focus on you just as you bring your sticky fingers to your lips and suck them clean of your juices with a satisfied hum.

Joel chokes, accidentally stumbling against the door.

You sit up only to hear a frantic rush of footsteps disappearing down the hall and a door slamming at the end.

-

After that, Joel avoids you like the plague but stalks you from a distance. He's too nervous to act on both your desires. He had set out on this family to be a good husband, a good father! Your dad was shit so of course you'd been neglected that vital role in your life.

He just can't help but get hard every time he thinks about you.

Whenever you go out with friends for the night, he sneaks into your room and slips into your bed. The aroma of your shampoo and body wash, sweat and skin rubbing along these same sheets fills his senses. Joel palms over his bulge, buring his nose into your pillow with a pathetic sigh. It smelled like sex, like you'd been rubbing your slick pussy all over your bed, marking it, making it evident of your possession like a nest.

He finds a pair of used panties sitting on the floor beside the bed, pressing the damp crotch of it firmly into his nose. He already has a thick hand wrapped around his girth as he tongues and sniffs your used undies, rolling his hips into his hand. God, he wants you. And he knows you need him. Should he be the big man, step up as any father would and take care of your needs? Is that what you were waiting for? Waiting all this time for Daddy to ruin your sweet tight hot little cunt and fill you to the brim with his seed--

Hes about to cum when your door swings open. Yhe blood from his body drains into his cock as you stand, catching him red handed, literally, with your crimson panties wrapped around his fist and bare dick in your bed jerking off to the thought of you.

"What the FUCK, joel??" You screech, slamming your door closed behind you, trapping him in here with his confessions laid out for you to direct.

"I c-c-I uh--"

Vowels tumble from his mouth but nothing coherent comes out. He should put his cock away, but he just catches the way your eyes glance down every half second, ans it only makes him swell with righteousness even more.

He breathes in, smirking, knowing he has the upper hand here. "Heard ya crying for your Daddy few nights back. Wanted to give ya what you--"

"Just because I have a "daddy" kink doesn't mean i was crying for you, you perverted fuck!" You shout.

Joel's shit eating grin disappears into horror. "You--you didnt--"

He wants to crawl into the wall, but even worse than the situation he's caged himself in, you start walking closer. "IS that what you thought? That i was rubbing my pussy to the thought of you??" You cackle. "That's fucking disgusting. I call my BOYFRIEND 'daddy.' Only a sick, perverted old fuck like you would think I'd be wanting my step dad of all people!"

Daggers piece his insides at each word. You stalk towards him even more, ans he's practically crawling up the bedframe in fear and embarrassment. It doesn't help that his cock is fucking leaking all over your pillow, bobbing painfully with the reddened tip thrombin another glob of precum from his hole.

"I-"

"Is that what you are, Joel? A perverted, sick fuck who thinks about fucking his step daughter?"

"Please--please i--I'm so sorry -- I didnt... I misunderstood..."

"Misunderstood?" You've finally cornered him, knee pressed to the matress and leaning over so he has no where to look but you. "Did you plan to use that as your excuse when I tell my mom I found you jerking off in my bed with my underwear wrapped around your face?"

"Please--please don't tell her..." he could die. Die right now that he's one centimeter from fucking this whole family to hell, the family he had wanted to make right for so long-andwhyishisdickstillsohard??

"I'll do anything," he whimpers. "I'll make it up to you."

He hopes you're gonna bleed his wallet dry, or get him to do your dishes, or buy you a apartment, but instead, your eyes drop down to his spread legs, biting your lower lip with a sickening hum.

You don't say anything as you shove him, his back flat bouncing onto the bed. You straddle his waist, his face bound in surprise. Joel stutters a whine but snaps his throat shut as his cock brushes along your ass, your very naked, bare ass underneath that sorry excuse for a skirt.

"I wanna see just how desperate you are to get inside your stepdaughter," you hiss, your hand snaking behind the two of you and gripping his length.

His face is pale, shocked and aroused and confused all at once, but he doesn't protest at all when you rub his tip through your soaking folds. He tilts his chin down to watch the scene between your legs unfold, unsure what kind of punishment miracle this must be.

"Daddy," you whine.

His head snaps back to your face like a dog ready for a treat.

You laugh. "That's what you wanted to hear, wasn't it? Me crying for my daddy when he's about to push his big--fat--cock inside my little pussy?"

You both let out a moan, wide eyed and open mouthed as you sink fully onto his length.

"Ohhh, dadddyyyy," you tease, experimentally rolling your hips. Joel's hand slap to your hips, instinctually holding you up as you begin to ride him. Whether you were making fun of him or actually enjoying yourself, he didnt care. All he cared about was the warm, wet suction of your heat sucking him back in each time you grinned your hips down on him.

"Do you like this, Daddy?" You moan, looking down on him.

He grits his teeth, beautiful brown eyes making contact and nodding. He has no words.

You giggle. "Me too, Daddy. Your cock is so big, stretches me so fucking good. Never had cock like this," you gasp, one hand planted on his collar as you set off a quicker pace, humping him with delicious rhythm.

He has already edged himself before you had come in. You could tell he was close, his thrusts meeting your every roll of your hips.

"Do you wanna cum? You wanna cum inside me Daddy?"

He nods fervently.

"Tell me."

"I wanna cum--wanna cum inside, inside your sweet pussy baby fuck, please let me, let me cum, let daddy cum inside you!"

"You can cum inside--but only if you do everything I tell you." You expertly swivel your hips so that his impending orgasm is subsided, making him growl. He has no other option but to focus on your words as if it were law. "If I want you to eat my pussy at the dinner table, you do it. If I tell you to finger me when Mom is talking, you do it. And if I tell you I want you to myself all night...?"

"Im here," he moans obediently. His blunt nails dig into your belly as he bucks harder into you, agreeing to everything you say just so he can burst.

You smile. "Cum inside me Daddy!"

He obeys, shouting as his hips still high in the air and thick ropes of his spent cover your walls. You laugh at him, laugh and moan and laugh ans gasp and laugh, and he can't get enough of it. He's never cum so hard in his fucking life, filling you to the brim until it's leaking down his shaft in a creamy mix of yours and his fluids.

Of course, you knew he wanted you. You did think about him every night since he shook your head eith "Hi, Im Joel," like the upstanding citizen he was. You knew he was a perverted mess. And ever since you found that sticky surprise plastered on your door, it only confirmed it. Joel Miller was a needy man, and you were a needy woman. He was meant to be here, and you weren't about to fight destiny.

Collapsing against his sweaty chest, your lips connect with his in a messy link of wet kisses and breathless moans as Joel comes down from his high. You can see it in his hazy eyes: He'd do anything for you right now. Jump off a cliff, eat poison, stab your mom--

"And if I tell you to get on your knees and spread your ass...?" You hum casually into his mouth before sucking his tongue.

He stops, eyes fluttering open slightly with crinkles in his forehead. You know he heard you. You raise your brow, waiting for his move.

Joel glances down at your plump, wet and swollen lips once more before rolling over and planting his knees into the bed, bending forward so his face hovered over the pillows.

Your legs clench together in excitement as you position yourself behind him. He hesitates for a moment before bringing his fingers around his sides and spreading his cheeks before you, his hole exposed to your devilish gaze.

He can't see behind him, but the sound of your squelching pussy as you finger yourself to his ass makes him whimpers into the pillow.

You pull a glob of Joels and yours cum from deep inside and spread it along his asshole. He flinches, not being used to -- well, fuck, ANYONE touching him there in his whole life. He's touched his hole before, out of curiousty more than anything, but thats the extend Joel Miller has ever gone.

Not that you are paying any mind to his apprehensions, as your thumb messily circles the tight edges of his entrance like a finger painting.

It's warm and sticky as you smear his cum over the rim, dribbling in excess down his crack to his balls and hanging cock. He can feel pulses of excitement and anxiety twitching, undoubtedly for you to make fun of him more.

What the hell would a pretty girl like you want with his old hairy aashole?

"You have such a pretty hole, Daddy," you hum against his cheek, nipping it softly with your teeth. He feels your lips glide over the swell before the warm heat of your breath tickles his opening, and your lips settle with a gentle, innocent kiss. He let's out a low sigh, closing his eyes while you make out with his ass.

His step daughter is making out with his ass hole right now, and he's getting hard as a rock.

Your tongue prods his rim, making him stutter, pushing back slightly against you again. You giggle, obliging and wiggling the tip around his puckered entrance enclosing your lips again to suck and kiss before repeating. One of your hands starts tugging on his cock, squeezing along the base before yanking up and down like you're trying to milk him.

Joel's head fully sinks into the pillow, his tongue lolling out as he let's out happy groans. His eyes roll back every time you straighten your tongue a little harder. Trying to work its way inside, wiggling and kissing him softly.

Joel thinks to hell with upstanding dad, upstanding husband routine he had envisioned when he first laid eyes on you and your mom. He can feel his irises morphing into literal hearts as you continue to lap at at his ass, never having fallen in love and fallen to his knees for a woman so quickly in his goddamb life.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist

[thefangirlfever]

Sexy dbf! Miguel that, dominant dbf! Miguel this... What about corny and soft dbf! MIiguel?

Like dbf! Miguel making dad jokes.

dbf! Miguel who is bad with a computer, like really bad it's actually funny.

dbf! Miguel who falls asleep in the middle of watching TV, his glasses dangling from his nose as he quietly snores?

What about dbf! Miguel who sings badly but proudly at the top of his longs during every car ride the bangers from his younger days?

Dbf! Miguel whose passion is like puzzles. He is actually very good at this. And even if he feels a bit embarrassed to show them to you, you're never judgmental with him. And he feels more and more confident to show you the small scale models he makes during his free time. Like this man is skilled with his hands (in more ways than one) and he likes this type of hobbies who allow him to relax.

dbf! Miguel who always guesses the culprit during a thriller. You don't know how he does that but he is always right.

What about dbf! Miguel who is so embarrassed that he actually turns red when you discover old pictures of him with his very questionable fashion sense from the 90s?

dbf! Miguel who snuggles up with you on the couch to watch old movies with you during a rainy day, remembering how he used to see them in the theaters when they came out and now they are this easily available and he can enjoy them with you.

dbf! Miguel who laughs with you when you both watch an old horror movie together, trying to convince you that it was actually scary at the time. But all you can see are the poor special effects, the pathetic plastic mannequin supposed to be a dead body...but he doesn't care if the movie you're watching sucks because you're actually together.

What about insecure dbf!Miguel who starts panicking when he notices a few grey hair on his head. And he turns all sheepish and looks at you with a guilty look when you stumble upon him trying to dye his grey roots.

Absolutely flustered dbf!Miguel who squirms and blushes slightly when you tell him that he doesn't need to hide himself, to hide anything or that his hair shines like silver.

================================

I think I like dbf! Miguel because this AU allows us to imagine Miguel getting older, which is something he might not be able to do because of his dangerous life and his mutation. Like, I want that man to experience a real, peaceful life at some point.

That's enough delusion for today. I'll leave you with these thoughts ~

Edit: thanks for the 200 likes, folks. I'm so glad you liked this 🌻

[fitzells]

im just thinking about conrad defending his girlfriend. like imagine conrad is with you and he overhears someone say something rude or insulting towards you?? i feel like his head would just snap up immediately and he’d be pulling you close and being all protective and extremely sassy/sarcastic to get the person to back the fuck off

really cranking out this conrad material. gimme more x this one kinda cringe it’s not my best work. enjoy regardless x KEEP REQUESTING ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

There’s a hand palming at your ass. One that definitely does not belong to your boyfriend, who’s using both of his to overly annunciate the story he’s recounting to Steven just a few steps away. You emit a little squeak, taking a step away from the wandering hand; feeling slightly embarrassed, for some reason.

“Uh. That’s my ass.” The guy laughs loudly, taking a swig from his cup. He shoots you this creepy, perverted little smirk; and you feel your face screw up in disgust.

“Trust me, princess. I know that’s your ass; kinda why I put my hand there.” Taylor sneers beside you, Belly meeting Steven’s curious eyes as she gestures over at the guy in question. “Look, don’t go all prude on me just because of your little boyfriend, ok? You wouldn’t be the first girl I’ve hooked up who belongs to someone else, you know.”

You scoff incredulously, as your fingers wrap around his wrist and remove his grip from your body. The nerve of this guy. “Okay, the reason I don’t want your filthy, perverted paws on me is not just because I have a boyfriend— who does not own me, by the way. It’s because it’s creepy and downright disgusting of you to just think you have the right to put your hands on me when I’ve given you no indication that it was okay.”

He looks around the room for one of his friends, although you’d be surprised if he has any. He seems a little uncomfortable now, probably not expecting you to berate him in front of all of his peers. Less sure of himself, he makes a pathetic attempt to stand his ground. “Ooh.. Indication.”

“Yeah, try spelling it.” A breath of relief tugs at your lips. You know that voice. And you definitely know this hand, rubbing soothingly at that spot between your shoulder blades. “You like feeling up girls who don’t want you? Because there’s a name for that, you know. It’s called perversion.”

The boy raises his hands in surrender, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly; although you can see him shrink in on himself. “Hey man, she was the one giving me those ‘fuck me eyes’ across the room. I’m sure you’re familiar—“

Your boyfriend’s comforting hand leaves your back, and he takes a step in front of you. A crowd is forming behind you, all of your peers waiting for the first fight to really kick off summer. Why do these always have to involve Conrad? “Alright, that’s it—“

You grab at his arm before he has a chance to swing at the shorter boy in front of him. You tug at it, and he turns around to face you. Your gaze melts his demeanour, and you exhale serenely. “Can we just go, please?”

He nods slowly, and you grin up at him. He takes one look at the boy, and then, meets your gaze once again; and he’s made his decision. His fingers squeeze at the flesh of your hip, huffing out a laugh at the faint ‘boo’ the teenagers in front of him yell out in annoyance.

“You okay?” The words are hushed into your ear, a kiss pressed to your temple. You nod, squeezing at his wrist, where it lays on your hip bone. You’re just about to speak when you hear that damn voice again.

“Yeah, take him home. Maybe after that you can come back here for a round two? You know you want—“

You pull Conrad’s hands off of you and after breathing out a quick, give me one second; your hand comes up and slaps that other asshole in the face. Hard. Hard enough that he stumbles back into Belly, who pushes him off of her with a grimace. You sigh, triumphantly. Turning back to your boyfriend, you pat at his chest and laugh at the grin on his face.

“Now, can we go?” You query, with a smile on your face. He nods speechlessly, and pulls you in for a kiss the minute you get outside, in front of everybody; despite his hatred for PDA. Your arms wrap around his neck, and his hands cup at your face delicately.

“Jesus, Con. Everybody knows you guys are together, you don’t have to eat her.” Steven slaps at Conrad’s back. You pull away reluctantly, and follow the rest of your friends out of the house. Steven wraps an arm around your neck, smiling down at you as he ruffles your hair. “Great work in there, by the way. Extremely satisfying to see a powerful woman take down a creep.”

You roll your eyes, and Taylor and Belly’s faces screw up in annoyance in front of you. You jog over to the red jeep you’re a little overly familiar with, opening the passenger door and watching as Steven stomps his foot like a child. “Wow, Steven Conklin the feminist! I’m still calling shotgun though, but nice try.”

Everyone piles into the car, Belly uncomfortably perches on Taylor’s lap to make room for them all. Conrad leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head, flipping off Jeremiah as he gags from the seat behind you. You grin, cheekily. Conrad grins back.

“We are so getting this girl some ice cream.”

Everybody cheers.

[d1s1ntegrated]

Fugk shigrli LSOEE LOSER SHIGARAKI PLZ PLS SAVE MEEUGHHHH...can yu do..like THIS SOUNDS CRINGE BUT READER ISEKAI AND THEY R OBSESSD W SHIGARAKI,,, like, they get plopped down into his bar, they explain his lore to him, his fanarts, shiparts ALL OF THAT🙏🎀

Love u munch plz dont die

love u too munch!! hope u enjoy <3

i died violently in a car crash and all i got was this weirdo virgin!

shigaraki x isekai!reader

cw: no use of "y/n" (i used "______" instead!), fem reader, loser shigaraki (aka early chapter shiggy), virgin!shigaraki, isekai, tw: implications of death/major trauma, car crash, oral (male rec), loss of virginity, slight musk kink if you squint, kinda canon shiggy? rough sex, unprotected, pathetic virgin moment lol, teasing, missionary, p/v sex, choking implied for a few seconds, desperation, premature ejaculation, sliiiiiight breeding kink? if u squint

not proofread! pls dont eat me im sorry but its 5am i dont have the energy to edit rn!!!!!!!

you don't know how it happened. there was a sharp, hollow static, paired with the feeling of drowning, choking, sputtering. you could hear screaming, you could feel the branches interlocking with your innards, pinning you to the car seat. but...everything was so soft, so light...

until it wasn't.

you figured heaven would be a little less daunting than this. even atheists could dream up a place better than this.

but here you were, plopped onto a worn stool, a long mahogany bartop splayed in front of you. maybe it was a sick joke, maybe this bartop was the tree you lost your life to. maybe it was one big metaphor. either way, the leather was sticking to your legs already, a loose nail prodding at your thigh as you shifted in your seat. there was a strange smell here, a mixture of sweat and blood and something smoky, and you couldn't place whether you liked it or not. you tapped your fingers against the worn wood for a moment before glancing around the sullen room.

it looked so very familiar. worn furniture, brick walls, and a dingy carpet splattered the room like dollhouse furniture. the bar was fully stocked, but no one was tending to it. there were a few rooms down a hall, but nothing you could recognize. across from you, a little tv sat, with a torn poster of something you felt on the tip of your tongue. you forced yourself to move, standing from the seat and rubbing your eyes as you approached the wall. with a shaky hand, you wiped dust from the ripped paper, revealing a heroic-looking man. little holes scattered the image, as if it had been used as a dart board. bold writing splayed beneath his portrait read: "ALL-MIGHT", and like a crashing wave, everything came flooding back. your favorite manga series, my hero academia, had a bar similar as the base for the league of villains. you sucked in a sharp, excited breath as your eyes took in another look of the room. maybe this was heaven.

but...this shit doesn't happen in real life. isekai's were a favorite trope of yours, like re:zero or konosuba, yes, now you remembered- you had loved the idea of another world rather than death or rebirth. maybe it was your version of heaven. you bit your nail at the idea of being able to see the base for yourself. sure, it wasn't at all what you had imagined it to be- it wasn't as enchanting, per se, as you had thought. but it was...all in front of you. as you swallowed your discoveries, a squeal of joy erupted from your core. shit, your core. your body, fuck, was it okay? you lifted your shirt, expecting to see the gory visual of your death still imprinted on your skin...but it was gone. as if it had never happened. shit. this isnt so bad then, right?

but something surely was missing. and no, it wasn't your life. well, technically yes it was, but fuck that, who cares? what you really were missing was them. if this was a true isekai...

the sound of metal clanging sends a freezing shock through your bones. you whip around in time to see a very battered and bloody league stumbling in, kurogiri rushing to the bar to grab supplies. you stay silent as you watch them all individually groaning and pushing each other for a seat, too scared to say a fucking word. sure, your obsession was there, but it was all-too-intimidating when they're right in front of you. your breath is stuck in your chest, until a voice shatters your glass-persona.

"boss? who the FUCK is that?" a raspy voice slices the air and you feel everyone's stares fall onto you.

your eyes widen as shigaraki slumps out of his seat wordlessly and slinks over to you, hand extended. he's much larger than you thought he'd be. his frame towers over you slightly as he approaches, a sinister smile creeping up on his cracked lips.

"good question, spinner" his teeth are bared, and he's inches from you now as you shake. "who the FUCK are you?" he repeats the question, a sickening twist in his voice that shows he's really not in the mood to talk. without hesitation, you slip underneath him and head for the door, but he grabs you before you reach it. he yanks you back with four fingers, his grip deadly on the back of your shirt. in a panic, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

"please! i'm sorry! fuck, i'm your biggest fan i promise! i don't know how the fuck i got here i just died and woke up here pleasedon'tturnmeintoashesi'msorry!" your voice is rushed and trembling, but he releases you onto the ground with a thud. you catch your breath as you stand, wiping the dirt from your legs.

"...the fuck?" dabi's voice rings through the thick silence, and the group breaks into a bellowing laughter. except for shigaraki. he stands over you, a wide, confused expression on his face.

"fan? so you've heard of us?" his smirk reappears as he couches down into your face, and you nod rapidly.

"yes, yes, i know all of you, you're my favorite characters!" you point at all of them, reciting their names. toga's smile consumes her entire face as you do so, and grabs onto twice's arm as she squeals.

"characters? tch, what are we to you?" shigaraki shakes his head as he looks down at you.

your expression falls as you realize they all have no fucking idea what the hell you're talking about. you take a deep breath and begin infodumping about "my hero academia", your favorite manga. everything from deku and his quirk, to all might, to the league itself. shigaraki finally backs up a step and offers you space to stand, and you do so. he nods as you recite the plot, his eyes widening in confusion and anticipation. when you run out of breath, he raises a finger to you, and you go silent.

"she sounds fucking crazy..." twice mutters sing-songy through his teeth. you chuckle nervously as shigaraki glances to the rest of the group, still bleeding and beaten.

"tend to your wounds elsewhere. i want a minute alone with...this thing." he gestures with a curled lip to you and you wave awkwardly. the group sighs and exits to their own spaces, toga examining you head-to-toe before bouncing away, exclaiming: "okay, but i want her when you're done!".

you cant help the anxious fiddling as he guides you to the worn stools again. he throws himself in one next to you, poppy irises still fixated on you with furrowed brow. he scowls at you, but says with a hint of amusement, "tell the truth now". his voice has a twinge of agitation to it, and you smile weakly at him.

"that's the truth, i swear" you start, and he shakes his head. you can feel the annoyance leeching off of him, and you start your next sentence very carefully.

"have you ever heard of an isekai?" you drag the words as if it would prevent your death, and he nods. "okay okay, good. so i think that's what happened. see, i'm not from here, as you can tell...and i died in a car crash, really brutal shit man, like literal sticks in my lower intestines and shit, that sucked balls." you trail off as you describe the fatality and he sighs.

"sorry, i got carried away. but yeah, basically, no need for an introduction on your part, i already know everything about you". you smile gingerly as he raises an eyebrow at you and scratches at his neck.

"mhm. everything, eh?" he leans into you again now and your breath hitches. you can smell him now, and it's unlike anything you could have imagined. the smell of sweat is combined with a faint sugared citrus scent. it's strange, honestly you didn't imagine he'd smell like anything more than a general stink, but he isn't unpleasant in the slightest. he's also all-too-close to your face, and you're able to see every patch of dry skin, scar, and scrape on his delicate pale face. strands of powdery blue hair drape around his face, and he pushes it back with a brutish movement as he takes in the image of you. you fight the urge to reach out and touch him as he speaks again, his breath on your face.

"what else do you know about me then, hmm?"

him being that close to you was overwhelming as fuck, and it takes a minute to reboot your brain and respond.

"well, fuck i don't have my phone" you exclaim as you pat your pockets down.

"need mine?" he slips his out of his hoodie pocket with two fingers and you shake your head shyly. "no thank you" you creak out, and shrug.

"well, basically, you're like, all over social media. and people really love you" you start, and a smirk forms on his face again.

"so, in another world i'm...people like me? in this other world...do i kill all might?" he says excitedly, snaking his long fingers together with a clap.

"well," you start, "sometimes?" you bite your lip, thinking of how to phrase it. "people write stories about you, and draw you, hell, some people even cosplay you..."

"cosplay? like...dress up? like me?" he says shocked, and you respond with a content "mhm!"

"...in your other world, do i win?" he smiles manically and you frown. you know his fate in your world. but maybe, in his, it's different. maybe you can lie to him.

"yes." you recall the recent manga leaks and chapters, and force a smile out. "you win, victoriously. and...you're the best villain!"

he leans back in his seat, a cocky look on his face as he folds his arms. "and society...does it fall?"

"you make it yours, shigaraki" you nod, distracting yourself from the blatant display of his death that replays in your mind.

"excellent" he hisses out. "tell me how i do it".

you shake your head. "i promise i can!" a look of determination overcomes you, your confidence way too high for someone who just got obliterated by a fucking tree branch. "if...if i can join you, i can show you everything from my world and help you" you propose, fighting off the aching in your chest. he glares at you for a moment and purses his lips.

"hmph. i'll consider it" he raises a brow and you respond with a tight, flat grin. he rolls his eyes as you shimmy closer to him. at this point, he hasn't killed you, and fuck it, if you die again, who knows where you'll go.

"did you know that a lot of people want to fuck you?" you blurt out, and he chokes on air.

"WHAT?"

"yeah, and they write about it all the time. and draw it, too. they also think you and dabi are together, sometimes you and spinner, hell i've even seen you and eraserhea-"

"WHAT THE FUCK?" he shouts out, and you laugh. you feel the excitement from before come rushing back, making you slightly delirious next to this definitely unstable and unhealthy villain.

"yeah! in my world, you're like, so hot" you giggle.

"i'm going to need you to shut the fuck up while i process that" he raises a hand and takes a deep breath.

he takes a few seconds, rubbing his temples and sighing. "...in what world would i fuck dabi?"

you laugh, violently, and he grimaces. you cant reply, so you just shrug as your laughter continues to startle him.

"well, a lot of people also think you're," you whisper the next part, "a virgin". he scowls at this and flattens his lips. he doesn't respond, which causes you in your delusional state to scooch closer to him.

"...is that true?" you ask quietly, and he glares at you. you take his silence as a yes, and nod.

"hmm. thought so" you reply with approval, slightly satisfied your favorite headcanon was very much true. he grits his teeth and stands from his seat, stretching a bit before walking away with a huff. you immediately fling yourself off your own seat and follow him.

"you know, that's not a bad thing!" you say behind as he trudges down the hall. he flings open a door and slams it in your face, sending you back a bit. you frown, not realizing how far you've been pushing it. you reach for the doorhandle and somehow, it's not locked. you push the old wood and enter slowly, the smell of dirty laundry and that same citrus smell enveloping your senses. he groans as he meets your gaze and you smile sheepishly.

"hey, sorry, i'm not sure why that of all things bothered you..."

he rolls his eyes and flops onto his bed. the springs creak with exasperation as his weight squishes against the old frame.

"of course an idiot like you wouldn't understand. even in your world i'm still somehow seen as a loser" he grumbles and you bite your cheek. you close and lock the handle behind you, and shuffle over to the bed. you dont sit, but you sway slightly as you watch him. his body is more defined from this angle, you can see the gentle muscles under his tshirt-his hoodie has been flung onto the floor with the rest of the clothes-and his baggy pants fall just low enough to expose his porcelain skin just above the waistband of his boxers. you take him in with a greedy stare as you plan your next response.

"...well, yes, but...we all think it's hot." the words startle him and he sits up slightly.

"we??" his eyes narrow, "you're one of them?"

you cringe and nod slowly. "sorry, shiggy, but if its any consolation" he cuts you off with a snap-

"i should kill you right now and send you back to your other world".

your hands fidget uncomfortably at your sides and you fight the urge to take off sprinting again. seems as though when you died, your proper judgement died with you. you sit slowly on the edge of his worn mattress and raise your hands in defeat.

"i don't think that's how it works. if i die again here, i'll just be sent somewhere else, and then i can't help you". he interjects with a quiet "ughhh", and you shrug. "like i was saying, if its any consolation, everyone who does think you're a virgin just wants to fuck you all the more. so in my world you get like, infinite bitches" you grin, and he frowns again.

"are you also one of those freaks?" he retorts, and you wince.

"hmph. checks out. mystery girl from mystery world shows up and says i, quote, get infinite bitches, and allegedly wants to fuck me" he throws his hands up in defeat. "i don't suppose you actually want that, just the idea of it, hm? i'm sure you get off on your world's portrayal of me. for all i know though, you could be lying, you could be a narc little NPC that works for the heroes, and they sent you to weaken me. i don't think i'll fall for it this time, idiot. get out." he points furiously at the door and you pout, folding your arms.

"fair assumption, but with all due respect, even if i were a spy, i don't think i'd be so stupid as to lock myself in a room with you" you motion to the locked door, and he huffs.

"prove you aren't then." he challenges, and you very quickly oblige. at this rate, you're living a fanfiction fantasy and you're thanking that tree branch more and more. you yank your shirt off and climb into his lap, choking out an exclamation from him. you straddle him and almost immediately feel him harden underneath you, eyes blown wide in shock as you wrap your arms around his frame and plant your lips on his. they're cracked and dry, but you couldn't care less. it feels like death all over again, the swirling static enveloping you as you taste him on you. a sweet twinge of blood and candy and salt coats your tongue as you slip it in past his lips, swallowing him whole. he whines as you tug on his tangled hair, rutting into you from below desperately. his body is already shaking, a silent plea as you grind down into him again, the friction of his rock-hard dick against your already throbbing center causing you to both moan. you cant hide your excitement and desperation as you claw at his back. he pulls away for a moment and shakily points to his hoodie on the floor.

"g-gloves" he chokes out, and you nod. you spring up and reach for the pocket, pulling out two artists gloves and tossing them to him. your hands brush against Father in his pocket and you suck air in through your teeth, completely forgetting about that weird fucking thing. you shake off the strange feeling and turn your attention back to him. he's hastily strapping the gloves on and fiddling with the button on his jeans. you lower yourself down to his crotch, the fabric strained against his length. with a surge of newfound confidence, you bite the button and undo the zip with your teeth, and he gasps at the sudden motion. you silently fist-bump yourself as he shimmies the jeans down his legs, tossing them off the bed. you follow, peeling the fabric off your own body and placing yourself back on top of him. he finally reaches up and squeezes your tits with his gloved hands, groaning at the feeling of them in his hands. his eyes are lit up like stars as he ogles your chest, yanking them out of your bra. you silently chuckle and completely lift the article off of you, and his jaw drops. he looks absolutely blown away, and as he greedily cups your tits and squeezes them, he whimpers underneath you. you feel his cock twitch and you grind slightly against it, and within seconds, he's panting and cumming all over you and himself, crying out a string of vulgarities. you kiss him again as he coats you both in slick, hot beads of cum and he bites your lip in pure craze. you remove yourself from his wet lap and look at him with a soft expression.

"aww, you've made a mess already. your boxers arent even off, shiggy" you whisper out and he balls his fists.

"mmf, fuck you, mystery girl" he mumbles out, and you help him pull his boxers off.

"call me by my name, _________". you plant a chaste kiss to his cheek. as his cock springs free, you audibly gasp.

its much bigger, and much angrier right now, than you typically read about. you take it in your hand and feel it, the soft, delicate skin feeling almost out of place on him. it's surrounded by thick baby blue hair, going up to his navel in a sparse trail. its heavier than you expected, too, as it switches in your palm. the creamy skin of his length is offset by a very sensitive silvery-pink tip, already leaking precum again as you thumb over it, sending pathetic whimpers to escape his lips in a fury. you blink away your greater morals and bring your mouth to it, licking a thick stripe from the base, tasting the slightly salty precum against your lips. he shakes as you slip him into your mouth, stretching your jaw out more then you expected you'd have to.

you begin slowly, keeping a hand twisting around the base as your mouth adjusts to the sheer size of it. slowly, you gain comfort and confidence in your actions, and you let your hand go. you take him further into your mouth with a sharp exhale through your nose, and he grips at your hair. he pushes you down, shuddering, and you bury your nose into the mass of hair, breathing in the aroma of his sweat and warmth. you feel yourself slicken more at this, and you bob your head up and down graciously as he whimpers, your name spilling from his lips a few times between labored breaths. you feel the blood pulsing in his shaft, and you wrap your hand around his balls as they tighten, squeezing them as he shatters into you again, thick ropes streaming into your mouth. his grip tightens on your hair and he shoves you all the way down, gagging you slightly as his cum drips down your throat.

"hnng, f-fuck" he drools as his seed fills your mouth generously, adn you pull off with a sloppy mixture of saliva and cum dripping from your lips. you swallow it feverishly and he shakes, watching as you collapse next to him.

it takes him a moment to speak, and its barely above a whisper when he does.

"_______?" his voice is raspier than before as he says your name, and is thick with desire still. you turn to him, still aching for your own orgasm.

"i'm going to fuck you now" he says, a little louder than before. you look at him with wide eyes and nod, spreading your legs are he peels his tshirt off and centers himself between them. he grips a thigh with his calloused fingers, digging his dirty nails into your skin. you hiss slightly but your back arches at the contact.

"why aren't you afraid of me?" he presses himself against your soaking cunt, leaning in to bite your neck. you gasp and grab his face, bringing him to your lips. waves of desire crash over you as he throbs against you. for a virgin, his stamina is something else.

"because i know that if i die again, i'll at least die happy this time" you admit, and reach a hand down to grab his cock. you center it to your opening, and nod. he presses himself in sharply, without warning, and you shriek out in pain.

"gah, fuck, okay, shigaraki" you put a hand to his chest to slow him, "easy, slow, please". he shakes his head and rams himself back into you, snaking a hand to your throat as he pumps inside of you haphazardly. there's no real rhythm to it yet, and you do your best to adjust to the size of him stretching your tight hole hungrily.

"tomura" he replies through grit teeth, and you moan.

"tomura," you repeat with a desperate sob, "please"

his eyes glaze over and with a newfound glimmer of faith, he grips your hips and begins to slowly rut into you, allowing the both of you to finally adjust. he exhales slowly as he rocks his hips into you, and you grab one of his hands, dragging it to your core.

"try...fuck, tomura, touch me" you plead, and he immediately presses his middle finger to your clit. its hard, almost too forceful, and you pull his hand back. he loses concentration and falls out of rhythm for a moment as you guide his hand around, showing him what feels good. you recall a few stories you had read and get an idea.

"like an analog. thumbstick. fuck. you know what i mean" you stumble out, and he very quickly nods.

"so not like a trigger." he follows, and suddenly, his movements are a lot more fluid. he smirks as he rubs your clit steadily. he begins to thrust back into you shakily, then with harder, longer strokes. he follows your directions as you moan and squirm under him, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and shoulders as he gains momentum, the mattress squeaking rapidly under the both of you.

you feel yourself at your own breaking point, the fire inside of you melting like metal as it fills you, and you sink your nails into his back as you clench even tighter around his merciless cock. he snaps out with a cry and thrusts into you faster, becoming a little unsteady as you soak his length. your body splinters in ecstasy as he drives himself relentlessly into you, orgasm ripping your body like a hurricane. you call his name out like an unholy prayer as you fall from your high, and he throws his head back as his own climax tears through him. you feel it as he rams himself as deep as he can, filling you with sticky cum furiously. his jaw slackens as he huffs and pants, the most angelic sounds emanating from the villain's flustered body.

as you both crash hard, he pulls out slowly with a hiss. his arms turn to jelly as he collapses on top of you, the weight of him crushing the air from you slightly, and you giggle breathlessly. you wrap your arms around his sweaty, shaking frame and kiss the top of his head as he hyperventilates.

he gathers the strength to push himself off of you and rolls onto his back next to you.

"was that real?" he asks, and you chuckle lightly.

"well, as real as i am, i suppose". he shrugs and closes his eyes.

"did you read about this? in your other world?" he asks gingerly, and you turn to him.

"something like this, yeah" you admit, and he nods slowly.

"you can stay, mystery girl, so long as you keep telling me about those things you read. or just show me" he says, and you smile. "oh, and help me kill that all-might fucker."

your eyes flutter shut in pure bliss as his visage interrupts your greater thoughts. if this is what your new life would be like, then perhaps the violent death was worth it.

===============================================

this took me like 3 hours to write tbh, i hope its good! i think im gonna cross-post this to ao3 to get the ball rollin. thank u sm for the ask! it was a pleasure (literally) to write this :)

[stargirlo]

somber fem!reader

i just can imagine how much ur boyfie misses you after u two break up :(

he'll go to a seedy bar and drink up until he feels numb on his body, his musky colgone is now replaced with a reeking scent of jack daniels whiskey as he looks completely wasted. holding the whole bottle lazily on his hand before he pours himself another cup of the brown liquid onto the well designed glass cup.

he even babbles about you to the bartender, showing him a picture of yourself that he keeps in his wallet everyday. "you see this- *hic* fine babe? yeah- *hic* i-i lost her two days ago..." he slurred out, eyes dropping low as he looks like he was about to throw up. the only response the bartender could make is either awkwardly chuckling or just saying a small "aw..." because really, he doesn't have the time to have a therapy session with a drunkard.

"s-she like uh-... broke up with me for i don't know what reason, uhmmm- ugh, i miss her s'much..." he whines, acting like he was about to cry. he misses you, he really does. numbing all his pain away from endless amount of shots from the whiskey cup and just slurring out incoherent words that clearly don't make sense. someone comfort this man :(

but as he tips over the barstool, he finally manages to leave the bar and head over his car. murmuring incoherent words and stumbling over the pavement flooring before he finally slams his body against the car door. he struggles a little bit, letting out a strained groan as he sits down at the drivers seat. poor man is tired, and he feels so lonely without your presence beside the passenger seat. you were his passenger princess, and he can't seem to get over you.

he's acting like a total loser right now.

he takes out his wallet again, flipping it open to reveal the picture of you. you were peacefully sleeping on his bed, hair tousled around the plush pillows, and a little puddle of drool seeping into the pillow covers. he chuckles at the picture before it was replaced with silent cries, tears dripping down his cheeks as a few droplets drip down to his jeans. he can't believe he lost you, over god knows what argument you two had both had.

he misses you so much that while he was crying he could feel his cock throbbing against his jeans. he was craving your touch, the way your hand palms his cock and stroke him so deliberately and deliciously with such delicate hands. god he misses it.

so without further ado his cock already sprung free from its confines, one hand holding the wallet while the other worked its way down to stroke his cock. he felt so desperate that he spits on his cock as a use of a lubricant, letting out a throaty groan and string of whispers, talking to himself and praising himself as if you were still there with him. pathetic whimpers fill in the spacious car, the windows slightly fogging up as his vision was already at haze.

all that his mind was clouded of was with images of you.

he still feels empty, even if he's bringing himself close to an orgasm. but he tried, he really tried to think that you're the one stroking his cock instead of he himself. "g-god i... ugh- i miss you s'much baby, holy fuck- please come back..." he murmurs under his breath, jaw clenching as his eyebrows pinch together, letting go of his orgasm. it wasn't particularly the best he could've had but... at least it was something he could do while thinking about you.

but honestly, he just wishes you were there with him. he wishes he could go back in time and fix things properly instead of being put up into this situation. but i guess time will tell, and it's how god had written its story between you and him.

💌: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento (who would break up with him?), hiromi higuruma, toji fushiguro (hear me out...), dazai osamu, odasaku, chuuya nakahara, manjiro sano, draken, rafe cameron, jj maybank, shinichiro sano, ++ your favs!!

[spitdrunken]

i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 1

-Imagine that after John Wick wins his freedom from the High Table, he [re]retires to your sleepy little mountain town, where you work in a coffee shop...

-Your quaint little town tucked in the mountains is the kind of place people go to get away from it all, and you can’t help but wonder what Mr. Wick is running from. He is an unfairly handsome man. You nearly make a huge fucking fool of yourself, the first time he approaches your counter, so taken that you could hardly speak. For all his good looks there is something compellingly melancholy about him. You see it in his soulful dark eyes, and the set of his shoulders. You can see this man carries a weight beyond what anyone of his years should bear.   

-He becomes a regular at your little coffee shop, and you get over your shyness with him. He’s soft spoken, sometimes a little grumpy, but usually impeccably courteous compared to some of your unbearably entitled clientele visiting from the Big City for the ski resort or the hiking. He never orders anything fancy, just black coffee, and he likes to stay for an hour or so in the cozy cabin atmosphere of your shop. He favors a corner table tucked in the back by the river-stone fireplace, usually reading an old book, though sometimes you think he just sits, his attention fixed beyond the page he’s on, eyes not really seeing the room.

-You manage not to stare too hard, when you see him without gloves for the first time, and realize he is missing his left ring finger. You are not repulsed. You just wonder what happened to him.

-In time you notice he barely touches his unadorned coffee, and you wonder if he even likes it. You don't know where you get the cheek to tease this so-serious man. “Do you just order it like that to match your clothes?” You’ve never seen him in anything but head to toe black.

At first he looks at you as though you have grown a second head. Then he answers, completely dead pan, “Maybe it matches my soul.” 

You snort with laugher, not believing him.

Maybe you should have, looking back.

“Sure, Mr. Wick.”

The next day you surprise him with a cup of something you concocted with him in mind. It's nothing too scathingly original. Just a dark chocolate mocha, with a splash of hazelnut, and just a bit of steamed cream. “Try this,” you say, setting it on his table totally unsolicited. You feel validated, for he's barely touched his black coffee again. 

“What is it?” he asks, peering at it suspiciously. 

“I just think you might need something a little sweet.” 

He looks up at you through his long hair, and you don't know why, but a little chill runs down your spine. It's not fear, exactly. It's like walking in the woods, and stumbling on a powerful animal on the trail. Something that maybe could eat you, if it chose, but instead just disappears back into the dark trees.

You do not pester him anymore that day, even if it is the highlight of your shift sometimes. But when you go to clean up his dishes you do notice the cup you gave him is empty. 

He doesn’t come in for almost a week after that, and you fear that maybe you were too pushy and pissed him off with your boldness. 

Maybe it's a little pathetic, the way your heart leaps when he walks through the door again.

“I’ll have…whatever that thing was you made the other day.”

You try not to gloat, but your lips twist in a smile.

-It becomes your little mission in life to make this man smile, and if just the corner of his mouth ticks up at some point during his visit you feel as though you’ve accomplished a good thing.

Maybe it’s totally a cliché, but you’re an artist, and when you’re not making coffee, or cleaning up coffee, you draw bright designs on the chalkboard around the menu with your pastels. You make elaborate landscapes and art nouveau maidens inspired by Mucha. People in town seem to enjoy your weekly designs, which is nice, even if it’s not entirely the recognition you crave. Four years of art school just to doodle on the chalkboard, you can hear your father say. He’s not wrong, but it still stings.

One day, you sketch Mr. Wick reading in the corner on the back of a discarded receipt. He is…such a lovely man. When you walk past you slip it on the table for him. You don’t let yourself watch his reaction. If you had, you would have seen his expression soften, the stony façade cracking even if just for a moment.

Is this how you see him? Not some broken down old man, the way he absolutely feels after his war with the High Table, but something…not unpleasant to look at.

You don’t know it at the time, but this is the action that sets off an avalanche. You wake a sleeping beast in him, and a dark obsession begins to kindle.

[pparadiselost]

the gentleman and the lure.

akira kurusu x fem reader you thought your relationship with akira ended five years ago, but a chance encounter with him has you rethinking it all. warning(s): nsfw, timeskip au (akira is 23), reader implied to also be 23 minors do not interact.

in all honesty, you initially thought this whole thing was your eyes playing tricks on you.

but some deeper, unconscious part of you knew otherwise. nothing else, nobody else in this world could make you do a double take in the same you just did, your feet hesitating like an out-of-beat step in the larger waltz from the passersby around you. shibuya is wild like that, demanding your adherence to the dance while setting your imagination free.

you blink. it can’t be him. 

that chapter of your life had closed five years ago, and you were now preoccupied with finding your place in the world. it had taken a lot of time, a lot of anger and bargaining, a lot of unspoken grief and nights sobbing into your pillow wondering if there was anything you could have done to change the outcome, but ultimately, time proved to be the most effective medicine. you closed that part of your youth with a bittersweet tinge in your memories, and you tucked it somewhere close to your heart to savor on nights whenever drinking alone wasn’t enough to plunge you fully into the depths of your personal melancholy.

but it is him. 

wavy tufts of midnight black hair, smooth skin like a greek statue come to life, and sleek black glasses frames that only momentarily hide the big innocent doe eyes that make you stop dead in your tracks.

your throat clamps down on itself. the cacophony of the city suddenly mutes itself in your ears, and you can’t hear any of it. none of the footsteps, the voices, the honking of cars and the blasting advertisements, the chirping of pigeons, everything becomes completely obsolete as you struggle to even breathe. you want to say something, to even get a pathetic squeak out, but it’s as if every part of your mind shut down instantly, and you realize you were rendered frozen.

the man standing a few feet away from you also does a double take, and a few annoyed pedestrians storm between the two of you. but he doesn’t move and neither do you.

“is… is that you? is that who i think it is?” he steps closer, and you can make out his soft voice. his lips are a gentle shade of cherry red, and you’re suddenly aware of how much taller he is than from when you last remember. 

your eyes tremble when you finally let yourself take a good look at him, and despite the initial features that caught you like a deer in headlights, you also notice that he’s changed more than you thought. he’s definitely older. his features are sharper. his chest is a bit bigger and shoulders a bit broader, jawline more defined and the once-cherubic roundness in his eyes have honed themselves into something more adult-like.

your heart skips a beat.

“it is you.” there’s nowhere else for you to run now, now that he has you within arm’s reach. you’re still dumbstruck, the million thoughts in your mind unable to string themselves into tangible words, and you’re scared that this chance will slip out of your hands and become something you regret for the rest of your life. but at the same time, there’s too much emotion overwhelming you, almost like the entire passage of time spiel was rapidly unraveling in your head.

your tongue is a deadweight on the inside of your mouth, and yet when he reaches out to grab you, his hand wrapping around your arm and tugging you in his direction, leading you out of the middle of the crosswalk and towards the safety of the sidewalk, all you can conjure up is a surprised gasp. you sound like a wounded animal, but you let the dark-haired man whisk you away, your legs and feet stumbling behind you as if he was a puppeteer and you, the puppet.

it’s only when he takes you to a more secluded area, the mouth of an alley a little tucked away, do you manage to eke out your first words to him.

your voice shakes. you sound like you’re about to cry. you feel like you’re about to cry. “k… kurusu.”

he laughs under his breath, and hearing it makes you want to throw up on your own feet. you’ve craved that sound for so long. it haunts your dreams, your waking moments, the breakdowns you might have had when you stayed up past your bedtimes and let your mental demons claw too long at you. 

“that’s me.”

he pauses for a second, and he glances at you almost sheepishly. he is older, but he’s definitely still very young. probably around 23, most likely fresh out of college, maybe looking for his first job out in the real world, going through the same growing pains as you are right now. he still retains that boyish charm you ascribed to him in your brain, and you see it clearly through his big angelic eyes.

“it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m sorry. i should apologize for that,” he starts calmly, “i didn’t mean to lose contact with so many people after i moved back home all that time back… especially with you.”

what were you supposed to say? the path of least resistance would be to lie and say that it was alright that you let him go, that you spent your time alone practically torturing yourself over a love that could no longer be. but it wasn’t like you could suddenly dump all of that, especially within the first few minutes of meeting him again, and it wasn’t like your body was being particularly cooperative either.

you hold your breath. he waits a beat, and then he rummages through his pocket and extends his phone towards you.

“here. i wish i had more time to catch up with you. i’m getting back from my lunch break right now, so i can’t stick around. but put in your information, and if you’re willing, i really want to take some time and talk to you again.” his black eyes are on you again, and you can see your startled reflection staring back from his irises. “would you be okay with that?”

you’re a person haunted. possessed. you wordlessly take his phone from his hands, and you methodically type your information in. you give it back to him without much more fanfare, and only then does he allow himself a smile.

his fingers brush across yours, and the spark that shoots straight to your stomach leaves you reeling. your heart sinks like a rock when you see his happy face. his smile is beautiful and poised, and it’s nothing short of a lethal poison to your consciousness.

“thanks. i have to run now, but i’ll contact you as soon as i can. it… it’s a miracle to see you again. i didn’t think a day like this would come.” he admits. he shifts his weight slightly, and he rechecks his watch before nodding apologetically at you. “i know it’s long overdue to say something like this, but… take care of yourself. i’ll see you soon.”

maybe in another life, you would have reached out and grabbed him by the back of his cardigan to yank him back towards you. maybe in another life, you would have followed him out to the train station that had stolen him out of your life and whisked him home, condemning you to a solitude you couldn’t wish upon anyone. maybe in another life, you were a different person that he might have considered worthwhile to keep a connection going, instead of forcing you to spiral and wonder if this was a love worth fighting for. 

but it all comes crumbling when you see him dash away. you see the lush glimmer of his black hair as it bounces with his steps, long legs striding across the white paint of the crosswalks. if you were doomed to be the tragic side character stuck behind the whims of a cruel writer’s desires and fate, longing for the warmth of recognition, then this man is undoubtedly the protagonist, always just slightly out of the reach of your outstretched fingers.

the rest of shibuya closes in on him like a curtain call, the people of the city drowning out your vision of him like waves crashing down, and you’re left alone as the overwhelming and biting loneliness wraps its arm around you and chokes you from the inside out. 

…

…

…

how could you describe akira kurusu? there was no easy label to slap onto everything that went down five years ago, back when you were both young and in high school and didn’t know any better. all the lovebirds on your social media apps threw around these buzzwords like situationship, delusionalship, this and that, but you hate the thought of defining what you and akira had with something so soulless. so simple.

but at the same time, you couldn't deny the truth that whatever you and akira had wasn’t clearly defined either. there were no labels despite the complexity of the relationship, and it was every bit ambiguous as the same situations everyone else bemoaned about their lackluster love lives.

it was this ambiguity that proved to be the stalker at the foot of your bed each and every night.

you two were schoolmates. you tutored him a few times. went on dates with him a few times. slept with him a few times. you two had a relationship in every sense but the label, and you had learned to foster intense and real feelings for him. you’d listen to his heartbeat while curled up in his little bed in leblanc’s attic, and you’d wake up to him rubbing the sleep out of his eyes while you’d pretend to sleep so you could cuddle him a bit longer.

but just as quickly as it seemed to begin, his probation was done, and he left tokyo before you could find any way to cling to him even across all the distance. you had hoped that he’d reach out to you in some way and let you know that you weren’t entirely delusional in believing that you had something special with him, but the long stretches of silence made you realize harshly that there was nothing for you to cling to anymore.

you’d even turn up to leblanc by yourself a few times, and sojiro would shoot you a few glances. but you never mentioned akira to him, and the old man never mentioned akira to you either. it was a silent understanding between the two of you as sojiro fixed you a cup of coffee the way you liked it, that neither of you had been successful in hearing from akira.

“so,” his calm voice shakes you from your thoughts. you’re no longer in high school and crying on your bedroom floor over your boyfriend-not-boyfriend who moved back home. you don’t feel much more adult than your teenager self, but you’re sitting at a table across from akira, who’s busy scrutinizing the menu in his hands.

you reach for the glass of water to your right and take an impatient sip. your mouth feels dry, and it’s a good tactic for you to fully avoid conversation for a little while. just a few days prior, akira had reached out to you through the newly acquired number he got from you, and he had asked you to get dinner with him like he said he would. 

you should have known that this would open up old wounds, but the “what if” that nagged in your head had you accepting his offer before you could fully think it through. 

could you even call it an offer though? without any real string attached? this was exactly the same way he would unofficially ask you out when the two of you were young. you two would romp all over shibuya, eating yummy snacks and doing all sorts of dumb things, too drunk in each other’s presence to really take in the world around them.

“does anything catch your eye? i heard that this place was pretty good through the grapevine,” he admits. he glances up from his menu and smiles shyly, and you almost choke mid-swallow on your mouthful of water. it’s just so unfair how deceptively pretty he is, despite the fact that the word handsome would be more suitable for a young man he is, but you know better than to think that you could ever resist his sparkling eyes.

you set your glass down. “i’ve never been here before, so… you know this place better than i do. i suppose we can ask the waiting staff here for recommendations.”

he closes the menu. “that sounds like a good idea. do you want something other than water to drink? there’s no need to be polite—this dinner is my treat. oh, don’t make that face. i was the one who invited you out, so it’s only fair that i treat you.”

were you making a face? you bit back the urge to touch your face and hide your expression behind your hands. this really felt too much like a date, and despite the walls you wanted to put back up to fend akira off, his subtle ways of peppering you with the attention you craved so badly deep down through what felt like small talk was a bit too smooth for your liking. did he do this often with other romantic prospects while he was gone? what other people did he take an interest in since the last time you had seen him? god, did he butter others up as he was with you?

you push those negative thoughts out of your head. his five years of silence spoke enough for itself, and you scold yourself internally. you should know better than to swoon over your long lost first love again, and for you, the purpose of this dinner was for you to find closure. you didn’t want to open a door to your heart for him too quickly again, lest he end up slamming it back in your face once more.

the silence between the two of you became uncomfortable. you gather your courage, soothing over the uneasy heartbeat rattling at your ribcage, and you look at him pointedly. “...i wanted to ask this last time, but i didn’t get a chance to. how have you been, kurusu?”

he stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head when his last name leaves your mouth. he leans forward and places his elbows on the table, and he folds his hands, palms down, so he can place his chin on his intertwined fingers. “kurusu? you called me that when i ran into you.”

“what else would i call you?” you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of calling him akira just yet. calling him by his first name was something personal, something intimate. it was a title reserved for people close to each other, and while you might not have hesitated had the two of you retained your relationship from before, right now, he was nothing more than a stranger to you. 

he’s horrendously perceptive, and akira shrugs. “you know what to call me.”

your stomach does a flip, and you don’t want to give him more of an opening to flirt with you. it feels as if he’s stabbing you emotionally and twisting the knife into your heart, making sure you can feel the yearning and the pain in every tendon, muscle, and sinew of your being. “why are you in shibuya again?”

he pushes back against his seat slightly, his long fingers wrapping themselves against the edge of the table. “job hunting. i graduated university fairly recently, and i need to keep myself afloat. i figured a big city would have some good opportunities. and besides…”

he trails off slightly, and as much as you hate it, you’re pretty sure you can predict his next words. this place is like a second home to him. he has history here, connections, something that could serve as the foot-in-the-door for his future. he stretches his neck a little, and his jet black hair catches and twinkles like the remnants of starlight under the dim light of the restaurant.

“i’m a little picky about what i do.” his gaze is on you again. “you of all people should know that i’m not the kind of guy to be a corporate slave. i know having the ability to choose is a luxury in a society like this, but i can try, can’t i?”

you wish he wouldn’t say that. you wish you didn’t know him so well. you wish he would stop assuming that you did. you curl your fist in your lap under the table. big emotions swirl in your chest: regret, desperation, anger, but above all, a sense of foolishness for thinking that maybe, just maybe, your desire for him wasn’t as unfounded as you believed it to be. 

“c’mon,” he urges. he leans in, and his voice quiets itself. “there’s a lot i have to explain to you. i… i know there’s a lot i did you wrong by. but that’s why i’m here, aren’t i? won’t you give me another chance?”

your heart plunges into your stomach when you hear the sweet cadences of his softened words. the same tones as the dulcet “good morning”s he’d whisper to you after a romantic night, the “get home safe”s he’d wish you when he’d drop you off at your train station late at night, the same whispered words from a lifetime past. he can definitely sense you wavering, the fear in your eyes, the misery that he single-handedly caused. 

your lips quiver. the wise thing would be to not answer him, but could you really bear to do that? to sit in silence and close that door. this whole thing could backfire on you and leave you even more broken than he did before, but the gnawing in your gut tells you the very thing you had feared from yourself. 

you were still in love with akira kurusu. you had always been.

“d-don’t make me answer that.” you hang your head. akira hums softly, and he pushes away from you again, lengthening the distance between you and him across the table by just a few more inches so you could breathe. 

“well… you have the rest of the evening to think about it.” he raises his hand, smoothly waving someone from the waiting staff over. he looks to you through the corner of his eye, and when your eyes meet, he resembles less of the boy you once loved and more like a gentleman this time around, still craving to get his paws all over your love and steal it away selfishly for himself, but with more of a dangerous edge to it. like a blade hidden behind a pretty wrapper, you know his aim was to always gun straight for your heart. 

his eyes narrow slightly. his lips part ever so slightly, as beautiful as the day five years ago you had given him your last kiss. 

“but at the very least… why don’t you give ‘us’ another chance?”

…

…

…

“...thank you for dinner. it was very lovely.”

“there’s really no need to thank me. think nothing of it. like i said, it was the least i could do for you.” akira rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. the night air is cool against your face as the night settles down on the busy city. there’s the distant honking of horns, an ever present reminder to you that the inhabitants of shibuya never truly sleep. the world is constantly moving around you, just like time, whether you like it or not.

the sun is long gone, and the bright city lights replace its glamor. they almost remind you of stars if you let your vision unfocus, but right now, the floor is suddenly the most interesting thing you’ve seen in your entire life.

“if that’s all… i should be on my way before it gets much darker.” if you could run away from the entrance of the restaurant, you would do so in a heartbeat. you want to go home and lock yourself in your bedroom and sob your eyes out into your pillows, undoubtedly over all of the reopened wounds and over your own cowardice in regards to how to face akira. it was like whenever you made the resolve to get over him, he’d romp around your mind, and whenever you tried to play into his game, he’d simply turn the tables on you.

he glances at you. disappointment tinges his features, and it’s enough to make your heart squeeze with a bit of a painful pang. “already…? i was going to ask you if you wanted to do this again. i’ll be around the city for a little bit, and i really enjoyed myself.”

you stop dead in your tracks. it’s a bad idea to accept, but you can’t bear to do it when he’s looking at you with those big, wide eyes. it’s his ultimate weapon, paired best with his quick mind. he knows how to get you to crumble, to make your own mind turn against you, and you’re hesitating again. akira has you dancing in the palm of your hand all so effortlessly. 

it’s best for you to be ambiguous. just because he can see all of your cards doesn’t mean that he can predict the way you’ll choose to play them. “i’ll see when i have time in my schedule and get back to you.”

he looks at you as if he’s unconvinced with your lackluster answer, but he’s smart. he chooses not to press you further about it. after all, cornered prey tend to get the most defensive, and he would much rather that you walk willingly into his honeyed traps. 

“y’know… are you busy right now then? i’ve got a bit of a hankering for something after such a nice dinner, and my place isn’t too far off from here.” he moves closer to you, and your heart leaps into your throat at the sudden proximity. he smiles gently at you, almost too innocent for your own good. “i’ve been practicing brewing coffee all this time. i could fix you a nice cup. it’ll be a lot better than all the shitty ones i’d make you drink when we were both in high school. do you still like your coffee the same as you did back then? c’mon, it’s just one cup. i’ll make it worth your while.”

you should be wiser. sharper. stricter. but akira looks like a kicked puppy, and he also looks like he’s about to grab onto your wrist and beg on his knees if you were to give him the cold shoulder and leave. there’s a sticky lump in the back of your throat that won’t go away no matter how much you swallow, and you wonder if giving in to him would make the uneasiness in your stomach go away. would it be worth it?

“...you said your place wasn’t far?” the words coming from your mouth feel like a death sentence. the black-haired man instantly lights up, and he nods enthusiastically. 

“just a couple of minutes. follow me. i promise i won’t make you regret this.” he reaches for your hand, and sparks shoot across your body when his long fingers wrap around yours, tugging you closer to his side. your stomach plummets, and you’re struck with the horrifying revelation that his hands feel so right intertwined with yours. it reminds you too closely of when he was yours, of when you’d walk side-by-side as if you were a real couple. 

you can barely remember the walk to his place. you vaguely recall crossing a few streets, your attention too transfixed on the man guiding you. you stumble up a few apartment steps, your heartbeat hammering in between your ears and stirring up a storm in your temples as he fumbles with his front keys, swinging his door open too eagerly, and practically shoving you into his apartment suite. 

your throat tightens up for the millionth time that night when the first thing you can make out from his doorway is how much his apartment simply smells like him. it hasn’t changed in five years; he still smells exactly like the way he would when you’d nuzzle into the crook of his neck all those years ago.

“it’s not anything special.” he comes up from behind you, kicking his shoes off before straightening them by the entrance. “but it’s perfect for someone living alone. i promise it’s normally a lot cleaner than i have it right now, so ignore anything that… might be a bit messy. y’know how it is with us men and living alone.”

you barely respond to his joke as you slide your own shoes off, stuck in basically a trance-like state. you trace your eyes over every part of his tiny apartment: the pictures hung up on his wall, the coats hanging from the closet with the door slid halfway open, the mismatched bits of furniture he most definitely got second hand. despite his warning, his place is maintained nicely and clean, nothing short of what you’d expect from someone as surprisingly prim and proper as him. he’s a gentleman to his core. 

he leads you to his living room, where you can get a pretty good glimpse of his small kitchen. his place is rather intimate, cozy, the kind of place that feels like it was made to welcome you. you barely keep yourself from curling your hands into fists to keep them from shaking, and you focus your mind on the details you can see as you sink down into his couch.

“stay right there.” akira pads into the kitchen, and he opens his cabinets to rummage for his supplies. “i’m going to break out the really fancy coffee cups, just for you. sojiro never taught me this part specifically, but i’m pretty sure he’d rip my teeth out if i served my coffee to a pretty lady in a regular cup.”

you almost stop breathing when he slips in a compliment so nonchalantly. you want to scold him and tell him to quit doing things like that. it’s bad for your resolve, and you hate to think about how he managed to get this smooth while you were gone. you gnaw on your tongue as akira hums to himself, working his magic with the beans of his choice. soon enough, the mature aroma of coffee stains the air, wafting like a magic spell towards you and intermingling with his scent. you could get drunk off a smell like this, entranced and held captive in place without a single restraint to physically hold you down.

you’re so caught up in savoring this nice atmosphere, irregardless of the weird tension mounting the back of your mind, that you barely catch akira as he brings you a fancy cup filled with freshly made coffee. he has a matching one for himself, a pair finely decorated porcelain cups that feature what looks like a painted couple in old rococo-esque clothes. they’re definitely meant to be used together, probably best for a couple. you don’t really get the chance to overthink it too much, as he hands you one and keeps one for himself. you mumble a shy word of thanks as you warm your hands against the glass.

your reflection stares back at you when you glance over the rim. the color is dark yet refined, like you’re staring into a rippling lake rather than a cup of coffee. it smells even more delicious now that it’s up close, and it feels like a shame to drink it. it makes you wish that you were a coffee connoisseur in the way that akira is, like you’re unfit to be able to appreciate the art that comes with making a beautiful cup of coffee.

“i made it just the way i remember you to like it. but better, of course, now that i have more practice under my belt. i know what i’m doing with my coffee now. go ahead. try it, and let me know what you think.” akira encourages you. his eyes are twinkling in clear excitement. you peek at him and then back at your dumbfounded self staring back in the coffee.

you bring the cup to your lips and take a tentative sip, not wanting to burn yourself. a rich and deep flavor, bitter and yet delectable, coats your tongue and the inside of your cheeks. it slips down your throat easily, warming you up from the inside and out and taking away the tension building up in your body straight away. you let out a small sigh of happiness as you take the cup away from your lips, and you’re pretty sure your contentment is written all over your face.

he grins. “good, isn’t it? i knew you’d like this one. i’ll spare you all the details about the beans i’ve used since you probably don’t want to hear it. but have as much as you’d like. nothing makes a man prouder than knowing that he’s made his girl happy.”

there it is again. you look down at your coffee cup with mixed feelings stirring in your heart. but the atmosphere right now is too good for you to want to ruin it. you want to savor what little sweetness you can steal from him. you’ve willingly walked into the lion’s den, and if you’re staring directly into doom’s maw, the very least you could do was to find some enjoyment in it. 

so instead you simply lift the cup, pretend you’re gulping back any regrets and doubts in your mind, and take another generous mouthful of the coffee akira’s specially brewed for you.

…

…

…

“ohhhh- ah- fuck- wait, d-don’t touch me there like that…!”

your body twists violently against his bed, and akira laughs softly against your ear. his grip on you from behind is tight, and no matter how much you thrash against his chest, he refuses to let go of you. your skin is hot despite the cool fabric of his sheets, and it feels like your body’s going to completely give out on you.

you already knew from the start that his coy invitation for coffee was just bait for him to lure you into his bed. but even with that knowledge, there’s something about being stuck back in a lewd embrace with him again that has your stomach coiling in with both excitement and shame. both of your clothes are strewn against his floor, and his cheap mattress creaks as if annoyed whenever you writhe in his arms.

“you’ve changed so much during the time i took my eyes off of you.” one hand gropes shamelessly at your bare tits, sighing when he feels the plush flesh of your chest fill out his palms. his fingers play with your erect nipples, applying just the slightest bit of pressure all to get you to cry out and throw your head back against his bare chest. “and yet… all of your sensitive parts haven’t changed whatsoever. you’ve missed me, haven’t you?”

you don’t have any words for something like that. your lips are swollen from how much he’s kissed you, the small talk about coffee nothing more than an overture for him to lead you into his bedroom, effortlessly coaxing your clothes off of you and indulging in your body again. you hate how well he meshes with your body, how responsive you are to his physical touches, as if you’ve been waiting for this as much as he was.

“i asked you a question.” his sharp voice cuts through the haze in your thoughts, and you shudder when his other hand snakes down your stomach. one knee expertly separates your legs, and a moan builds up in the back of your throat when he starts playing with your wetness. 

akira is a tease through and through. he slides his fingers up and down your slit, and you let out an embarrassed squeak, wanting to cover your face. your juices cover his digits, and heat throbs in your core and pulses under the skin of your face when you register the slick sounds your folds make. 

fuck—were you really that aroused already? 

“so wet… and all we did was kiss. are you that turned on from just that? you’re rather naughty, aren’t you?” he looks at you with words that are nothing like how sweet his eyes are. your voice dies out in your mouth as his fingers start to circle around your pulsing hole, almost like it’s a silent reminder of how much easy access he has to your body.

it’s not fair how easily he can get you to physically succumb to him. this was definitely your fault; you refused any other romantic prospects ever since akira left you, which meant that it had been five long years where your only sexual release was whatever you had to offer to yourself. and with how badly you’ve been pining after him, it was safe to say that touching yourself came nowhere close to having akira’s hands wandering all over your body again.

you yelp when he bites down slightly at your ear, his sharp incisors nipping carefully at the thin skin.

“i want an answer,” he demands breathlessly. “you’ve always been so shy… that part of you hasn’t changed at all.”

“d-don’t make me answer that…!” you choke out. your voice is high-pitched and strained, nothing like the collected facade you had shown him during dinner. he pinches your swollen clit, and pleasure stabs at your stomach. you arch your back against his chest, another desperate cry escaping you. he’s good at this little back and forth, flickering between torturing your clit to rubbing loving circles into your sticky nub. your pussy convulses, and your inner walls are drooling to be fucked out and stuffed with his cock. your body’s missed his touches almost as much as you have emotionally, and the fact that he’s experienced with your body does nothing in your favor.

he presses his lips into the gentle curve of your face, kissing you over and over again. his kisses are so sweet and chaste, unlike the way he toys with your lower half. your hole flutters and dances around his fingertips, leaking like a broken faucet, your pussy telling him everything you refuse to verbalize. he knows how much you want him to fuck you, but he also knows how stubbornly shy you can get. and he also knows that sex is so much more fun when he can peel back all of your walls to get you right where he wants you.

“you’re going to have to answer me, you know,” he purrs. the vibrations reverberate against his chest and towards your bare back. “a gentleman would never do something his lady doesn’t want to do. you can thank sojiro for that.”

you squeeze your thighs slightly around his wrist, and you shudder. “please… don’t do this to me… it’s embarrassing.”

“it’s only me… you’ve slept with me before. why so shy now?” his tongue laps at the shell of your ear, and another shiver runs down your spine when his warm tongue captures your sensitive skin, licking against the thin skin and making your pussy clamp up unintentionally. “unless…? don’t tell me. is there another guy you’ve been doing this with?”

you shake your head vehemently. you wouldn’t ever dream about fucking someone that isn’t akira kurusu.

“like i said, it’s- it’s embarrassing…!!” you breathe. his hands feel so good, touching you all over from behind. you can feel him grinding his hard-on against your ass, and your throat constricts on itself when you feel how big and thick he is. he was always well-built even when you fucked him during your teenage years, but in your memory, he wasn’t this big… your cunt throbs painfully with anticipation at the thought of being stretched out on such a big cock after such a long dry spell, and the arousal swirling slowly in your stomach pleads with you to set your pride aside just this once.

he sighs against your ear. he’s disgustingly sensual, that stupid akira, and his words are honeyed and sensual. “it’s only me… c’mon, all you need to say is that you want me. ‘please fuck me, akira! please fuck me with your cock! i want it inside my pussy!’ that's all you need to say. not too hard now, hm? i basically told you what you needed to say.”

heat burns at your cheeks, and there’s a lump in the back of your throat. you want it, you want to do everything he just said so badly. you want him to pin you down to his cheap mattress and fuck the daylights out of you, until you can’t feel your legs and you can let go of all the emotional baggage you built up. the shame and the embarrassment grip in between your hips, and you swallow back whatever hesitation swims in your gullet.

“p-please fuck me, akira…,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “i want you inside me… want your cock inside my pussy…”

“hm? what was that? i could barely hear you.” akira presses harshly against your clit. you let out a loud yelp, electric pleasure jolting up in your pussy. “see? i know you’re capable of being much louder with that pretty voice of yours…”

if looks could kill, you would have murdered akira in your bed with the glare you shot him. he blinks innocently at you, a small grin poised on his lips. this is a battle you can’t win, unless you want to leave his house unsatisfied and unable to do anything about the throbbing deep inside your gut.

“please fuck me, akira!” you make sure your words are pointed. “i-i want you to fuck me! please put your cock inside my- my pussy…!”

he laughs under his breath and rewards you with a kiss, even though you’re flushing with heat and wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. “oh, i’ll gladly do that, sweetheart. that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

you bite back your complaints, heart thumping wildly inside of your chest. his erection prods against your thighs, and you part them wider so he can slot himself from behind. you swallow again when his cock slides up and down your slit, and your vision spins when he grinds up against your pussy. his fingers continue to rub and play with your clit, making sure that you don’t get even a second of rest from him.

his pre-cum stained cockhead prods naughtily at your fluttering hole. you take in a deep breath as he presses his tip against the tight ring of muscle. his dark eyes peer at you. “ready, my pretty girl?”

you nod, and a moan immediately lodges itself inside your mouth when he pushes himself in. he’s slow, painstakingly slow, when he pushes himself in. it’s like he wants you to feel every inch of his length, reminding you of everything you’ve missed, of how good it felt to have his cock penetrating you again after so long. akira hisses through his teeth, pushing his cock into your cunt, fighting past through all of the hot and wet tightness, and it takes all of his self-restraint not to empty his balls into your pussy right there and then.

“shit…,” he says breathlessly, “were you always this tight…? fuck- your pussy’s clenching all over my dick… can’t get enough of me now, can you?”

you focus on your breathing, trying to relax your body. a dull sense of pleasure pricks at your brain, and it spreads and trickles under your skin as if it’s a droplet of blood pooling at your fingertip and dripping down. your stomach curls in on itself, and even when you were bracing yourself for the stretch, feeling it all anew feels like it’s blowing your brains out.

“ah-,” you exhale shakily, trembling in his arms, “s-so big…”

“yeah?” he sounds strained too, his cock twitching dangerously against its tight restraints. “‘ve missed this pretty pussy so much, love. i knew you weren’t someone i could just let go willy-nilly. i’ve got you now, pretty, all in my arms.”

you hum, savoring the sensation of your plush walls stretching out to fit his cock, his balls tensed up at your entrance. he hadn’t started moving yet and you were this starstruck over his dick. how the hell were you going to live through the whole ordeal? it didn’t matter. even this much felt good and had you writhing like a lithe cat against his chest, your curves slotting straight into his wandering hands like two matching pieces of a puzzle.

“y-you feel different,” you mumble as one hand ghosts over your chest and the other makes its place in between your thighs again. a whimper bubbles up inside of you when he goes back to rubbing slow circles into your clit, your pussy clenching up and massaging his dick as arousal shoots through your stomach. 

“mhm? tell me about it.” he draws his hips back carefully, and you can hear him let out a haggard exhale when your walls cling to him, not wanting to let his cock go. the friction has you seeing stars in your mind, your brain threatening to melt into goo. he’s still incredibly slow as he pushes back into you, giving your body a chance to catch up, but even at this pace, his thrusts are deep and full.

you shouldn’t stroke his ego, but you wouldn’t be lying if you said that the five years you spent apart from him did change him. maybe you also had gone too long without him and the withdrawal had changed you too. “i don’t know… you feel bigger- feels good inside me…”

“yeah? keep talking to me then. i missed that sweet voice of yours.” his eyelids flutter when your walls twist around him, your greedy pussy eagerly sucking him in deeper and swallowing him in. “ohhhh, fuck…! shit, you feel so fucking good- so fucking tight… haven’t had your pussy in way too long…”

your chest tightens, and you can feel your breathing growing shaky. his thrusts are slowly getting faster, finding a groove that has your thoughts quivering with each snap of his hips. you’re hypersensitive to how he feels inside of you. you can feel everything, and your pussy remembers again how good it felt to have him fucking you. he remembers too, the angles that you liked and just how deep he needed to fuck into you to get you to squeal. and speak of the devil-

“-!! akira!! n-not there, akira! s-so deep-!” your words start slurring together. pleasure rips through your pussy as he effortlessly locates your sweet spot again and starts bullying your deepest parts with his cockhead. “i-if you keep fucking me like that, you’re gonna make me cum…!”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” akira chuckles. his dark curls sweep against his forehead, eyes hiding behind the wisps of midnight black hair. “what if that’s what i want you to do? what kind of man leaves his girl unsatisfied? it’s only fun when you’re feeling good… i want to see if i can still get you to crumble after all these years.”

you hiccup as he keeps fucking into you. you can’t think properly, not when he’s hitting your sweet spot without any issue, each thrust forcing his cockhead to slam into your g-spot right on. he keeps playing with your clit, moving in rhythm with his thrusts so that you don’t get even a moment’s worth of reprise. your chest is tight, and your breathing is ragged, your brain only managing to hang on just to get enough oxygen to your fluttering heart.

“yeah, you like it when i touch you like this, don’t you?” akira sounds so full of himself as he practically purrs at you like a cat. he wasn’t lying when he said he missed your body; his cock keeps drooling inside of you. your juices intermingle and mix, acting as the perfect lubricant for him. each snap of his hips is faster and harder, and your mind keeps lighting up with sparks of pleasure as his cock stretches you out. “that’s my girl. ‘m so glad i got your attention again. life is just too boring without you here… ‘m not gonna leave you again, you hear? i made that mistake once. i’m not gonna make it twice.”

“akira!” you scream out, unable to hold yourself back. so much for that rightful fear of yours. you could never resist him, not when he’s saying the very things you dreamt of for five years straight, consoling yourself with no one at your side, just imagining how things might be different if he had wanted you as much as you wanted him.

and now he does. now he’s gripping onto your body, making you twist and turn with pleasure, completely at his mercy with your legs spread apart and your cunt stretched out his girthy cock. the squelching noises as his cock slides in and out of you are downright obscene, and you can’t remember the last time you had gotten this shamelessly wet. not even masturbating had your pussy this excited; your fingers could never replace what real dick did for your cunt.

“there we go. that’s my name,” he praises you. “scream it all you want for me. i want to hear your pretty voice. it makes me feel really good when i hear you crying out my name… it’s like you know that i’m your man. only me. not anybody else.”

you shudder, his dirty talk making your stomach furl in on itself. you hate that silken tongue of his, how he can say such sweet things to you and yet turn you on so badly. you’re glad that he likes you this much; otherwise, you don’t even want to think about what other embarrassing things he might make you do for his own entertainment. this is his version of playing nice. you’re lucky that he considers himself a gentleman and would do anything for your pleasure. 

the lewd sounds of lovemaking and skin against skin quickly fill the room, and he’s thrusting into you just the way you like it. he wasn’t lying when he said he remembered every detail of your sensitive body. he was so good at playing with your body that it almost felt like you were being attacked at all angles. he was showering your nipples and clit with attention, his lips chasing after your body and pressing sticky kisses all over whatever patches of bare skin he could reach. he’d lean his head to make out with you too, eating up your moans as you cry into his mouth, his tongue swirling against yours and making you almost collapse into a heap of sweaty limbs and lovejuices out of how good it was.

“so tight… yeah, you like it like this, don’t you? my cock is the best, isn’t it? you keep clenching up around me, pretty girl,” he breathes. his words are velvety and dark, and whenever he slips his tongue into your mouth, he tastes so addictively good. “i can feel how much your pussy wants me… even if you’re committed to being this shy, your body tells me everything i need to know.”

“don’t say things like that…!” you somehow force your words out through gritted teeth. “i already told you, it’s embarrassing!”

his lips curl into a cruel smile as he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, clearly enjoying the way he’s making you squirm. if there’s one thing akira loves, it’s putting you in the hotseat and knowing that he has this kind of effect on you. “is it though? i’m only telling the truth.”

he pinches at your clit at the same time he thrusts up harshly into you, and you let out a breathless shriek as red-hot pleasure rams into your gut. your inner walls clamp down unconsciously onto his dick, gripping onto every inch of his cock. your cervix milks and massages his tip, your pussy pleading desperately to be filled up with both his cock and his cum. 

“just like that.” he sounds so pleased with himself. akira isn’t the kind of guy to get a big head and walk around as if he ruled the place, but he wasn’t one to let any of his victories just slide past. “see? that pretty pussy of yours won’t lie to me.”

your stomach won’t stop lurching with each rough thrust. the heat deep inside of you keeps coiling into painful knots, and you think you’re going to lose your mind. all you can think about is how good it feels to have akira messing up your insides, your walls squelching and molding itself to the shape of his cock. the pleasure is mind-numbing in every sense of the word, and your brain keeps devouring all of the sensations flickering underneath your skin. he knows how to get you aroused too easily, and he makes sure you feel everything he’s doing to you. whether it’s speeding up or slowing down, egging you on with your most sensitive parts, he doesn’t give you an opportunity to really catch up with him. 

“feels good- feels so good-,” your words are starting to melt together incoherently, all of the overwhelming sensations getting the better of you. “if you keep fucking me like that, you’re gonna make me cum…”

“oh, silly girl, we’ve talked about this already.” he kisses your shoulder, and your mouth goes dry when the tip of his sharp teeth ghosts over your exposed skin. “i already told you that that was my goal from the very start. i wanna see my girl cum all over my cock, just like you used to do. you’d make the prettiest noises as you came… are you going to moan for me like that again? or are you going to get shy? do i have to fuck the moans out of you?”

you whimper helplessly, cunt tightening up. you hate how much that turns you on, how much letting him have his way with you has you melting like putty. you must have more of a masochistic side than you’re willing to admit, given how much you get off on having akira manhandle you. 

“don’t be mean to me… you’re so mean…,” you eke out weakly. 

“i’m not being mean. if anything, you’re the mean one… is it too much for a man to want to see how good he’s making his girl feel? i want to see your face twisted in pleasure, your voice all ruined for me, your body all messed up because of me…,” he hums to himself. the lump in the back of your throat is there again, and as if to accentuate his point, he thrusts sharply into you. 

a shockwave of heat shreds you from the inside out, and you arch your back harshly. he keeps torturing you like this. is this his way of edging you? keeping you this close to the edge and telling you about how much he wants to make you cum but not really letting you? akira loves how responsive your pussy is, how you keep milking his cock and fluttering all excitedly around him whenever he whispers about all the lewd things he wants to do to you. your thighs won’t stop shaking, and your juices are dripping everywhere, coating his balls and trickling down your skin and messing up his sheets. 

you’re going to cum soon. your body feels weak and flushed all at once, and heat keeps mounting wildly inside of you. you can’t keep up with everything akira’s doing to you, and no matter how much he’s teasing you and whispering all sorts of dirty things into your ear, all of it is going straight into making your pussy feel good. your cunt won’t quit sucking him in, instantly hooked on the feeling of having your ex-fling’s cock stuffing it again. 

you’re better than this. you know that, and yet you’re not above falling prey to akira’s words and honeyed traps. he’s spun a perfect web to ensnare you in, and you never stood a chance. he has you right where he wants you. 

and you look so, so beautiful to him. he can feel how close you are. your pussy keeps pulsing and squeezing around his length, and your moans are growing more and more desperate. your eyes have lost focus a long time ago, but he knows that if he were to grab your face and force you to look at him, your pupils would still dilate and show him a clear reflection of his triumphant face. sweat beads at your body, and your bare skin is all laid out for him to admire. how could he ever leave you behind like that? you’re everything he’s ever wanted and more. it’s almost too good for him to believe.

“wanna cum-,” you stumble over your own words. “please- ‘m so close, akira… it hurts- don’t edge me…”

he hums, and you let out a pained whine when he slows his pace down, dragging his cock out of you painfully. your hole clings to every inch of his cock, not wanting to let him go, scared that he won’t fuck himself back into you. your brain lights up with pleasure as he slowly fucks himself back in before speeding back up, and the sensation is like whiplash to your overwhelmed senses.

your stomach curls dangerously, and your vision shakes violently as the heat rushes to your gut. you’re so close, so close to cumming, basically almost there. you hold your breath, anticipating the dizzying fall, just needing a little more from him to tip you over the edge. you clench your eyes shut as your insides throw a fit, overstimulated and reeling from how downright good it feels to get dicked down again.

except akira won’t give it to you that easily. 

you let out a drawn out cry when he controls his pace and refuses to give you what you want, and you writhe in his arms, clawing at his bare skin and shaking your head back and forth. it’s awful, you hate it, you hate not being able to cum, feeling like there was a dry spell that refused to be satiated. you feel hollow and empty despite him fucking his cock back into you, trying to build that arousal back up.

“y-you’re edging me!” you protest. “please- i was so close- just wanna cum… it hurts…”

“sorry.” he doesn’t sound sorry at all, but he tries to appease you by pressing another flurry of sweet kisses to your face and neck. “can you blame me though? you sound so pretty, look so pretty… i like knowing that i still have it in me. hm? i’m making you feel good, aren’t i?”

it’s unfair how easily he can mess around with both your physical needs and your emotions. all you care about right now is the burning in between your thighs, the secondary pulse inside of your pussy wanting release. your pussy keeps getting more and more sloppy, juices spilling everywhere. your body isn’t resisting any of his touches anymore, and he’s fucking into you without cracking a sweat.

“c’mon,” he whispers seductively. “let me hear you beg for me some more. this is the only time you’ll ever sweeten up to me. you’re usually the thorny one otherwise. think you’re up for it? or do i need to tell you what to say again?”

your throat tightens, and your mind wavers. your thoughts have hazed over a long time ago, not caring about anything else happening in the world. all that mattered to you right now was the delicious stretch of akira’s cock inside your hole, and all you wanted right now was to cum all over his dick like you didn’t have a shred of pride left in your body. and you bet that was what akira wanted out of you: his guarded and jaded former classmate fucked out into a loving, cum-stained mess right in his bed.

the words are leaving your mouth before you can even fully comprehend them. “want it- want it so bad, akira… please, please, wanna cum on your cock- i’ve wanted it so bad… wanted it all this time, nothing else made me feel good! your cock’s the best, i wanna cum on your cock… please- i can’t think about anything else!”

he laughs breathlessly. you don’t know if it’s because he’s incredulous or if it’s because he’s impressed. maybe both. you couldn’t care less, not when your arousal pounds painfully throughout every corner of your body. you think you’ll actually burst if you don’t get to cum soon.

“yeah? god, can you blame me for getting so greedy with you when this is the kind of shit you reward me with?” he kisses your temples softly, and his lips move against your sweat-beaded skin. “i suppose i’ve tortured you enough, yeah? what a good girl you are, doing everything i ask you to do… it’s okay, i’m not going anywhere. you can cum on my cock as much as you want. it’s my turn to pamper my girl a bit…”

finally. finally…! good god, you swear you’re about to see the pearly gates right there. akira angles his hips just right, and he rams mercilessly into you, savoring the choked out cries and moans of thanks you let out, his name generously mixed into your muddled whimpers the way he likes it best. you’re hanging on by a thread, and akira’s fucking you in a way that’ll have you come undone any moment now.

“c-cumming…! ‘m cumming- akira- oh fuck- fuck, fuck, cumming!” 

your cunt clamps down on his cock like a vice, and you throw your head back, a breathless shriek dying out on your lips as your orgasm crashes into you like a brick wall. something warm and wet gushes out in between your thighs, and heat overtakes you entirely. it feels so good, feeling that tightness in your gut snap and unravel and come completely loose, all of the pleasure coursing through your veins and making your mind go entirely blank. you can barely force a breath through your mouth, shuddering as akira guides you through your high, keeping your quivering walls stretched out to their limit as he pumps his cock in and out you through it all.

your world spins, and it feels like everything is giving out under you. your already foggy vision is fighting to stay as it is, and you cling to whatever part of akira is holding you from behind. fuck, you can’t remember when the last time you came like this was. masturbating and fucking yourself on your fingers all by yourself always felt so dull and lackluster, and actually getting a taste of real dick after having been deprived for so long felt like your entire universe was being flipped upside down. you didn’t even realize how badly you were shaking until akira held firmly onto your form, keeping you locked flush against his bare chest.

“ooh, bet that felt really nice-,” his voice warbles through your hearing. your heartbeat roars against your ears, and it takes everything in you to fully focus on what he’s saying. “fuck- i missed making my girl cum like that… i almost forgot that you make such a pretty face whenever you cum… makes me want to tease you even more. yeah? did it feel that good to cum on my cock? you missed it too, didn’t you?”

your head is heavy as you try to get yourself to nod, fully aware of all the slick covering his cock now. did you really cum that hard? you can’t make heads or tails out of anything right now, the aftermath of your high still possessing you fully. you’re a fucked out mess in that moment, and your head buzzes with the dull thrums of euphoric pleasure. you’re vaguely aware of how much akira’s dick is twitching inside of you, undoubtedly hurtling close to his own high now that he’s seen you turn into this mushy mess all because of him. 

his balls twitch against your lower lips. his cock keeps spasming deep inside of you, and the same desperation that had claimed you whole is egging him on too. he wants to fuck his cum into you, watch your cunt struggle to keep all of it, stare down at you with his lust-stricken eyes as the pearly white ropes start to leak out of you. 

you whine against the friction as he keeps bucking his hips against yours, grinding up just to feel a bit more of you. your head spins at the overstimulation, with him still rutting against you despite the fact that you just came. “t-too much, akira-”

“i’m close, promise-,” he grunts out. “bear with me, okay? so close, gonna fill up your pretty pussy with my cum- you’re being so good for me…”

you nod weakly. you want him to fill you up, want to feel the swell of your stomach as his cum floods your insides. you can bear that much. you keep crying out for him, letting your voice spur him on. you’re sure you’re going to be a sore mess tomorrow, aches already spreading across your lower back and legs, but with how much downright pleasure he can plunge you straight into, it’s a worthwhile trade off.

“god, you’re so fucking perfect…! take it- fuck- take it all… gonna make you mine, gonna make you my girl-,” akira groans. you yelp when he grabs at your hips and keeps you stuck in place, and he buries his cock as deep as he can fuck himself into you. a cold shiver spreads across your spine when he cums hard straight into your cunt, and the warmth bursts across your gut. your walls keen and strain as it stretches out to take his semen while his cock is still stuffed inside, and a sense of otherworldly bliss spreads across your brain when you can feel white hot ropes flood your womb.

“ohhhh- fuck- god-,” akira cries out. he buries his head against your shoulder, panting heavily. your intoxicating scent fills his nose, and he swears that he’s no longer on this earth. just as much as you’ve craved the physical intimacy, akira longed to feel this again, to feel your weight in his arms, to feel the warmth of his cock softening inside of your cunt as your lovejuices mix together. all sorts of hazy pleasures flicker up inside of his mind, and there’s nothing he wants to do more than to keep whispering sweet nothings to you and have you all plugged up with his cum, cement you as his for just a few seconds longer.

but he knows better than to push his luck even more than he has. your mind is swimming even more than his is, and he has to be the responsible one despite having initiated this whole mess to begin with. 

he pulls out with a low groan, and you turn over to lay down on your back finally. your knees part unconsciously, and when akira sits up, he’s immediately entranced at the slow stream of his cum that trickles out of your fluttering hole. his cum slides down the curve of your ass and onto his sheets, a small pool forming underneath you.

did… he really cum that much?

he lets you have a second to pull yourself together, and he helps you. you’re still shaky, but you manage to thank him quietly as he gets up. he grabs the base of his half-hard cock, and he presses the sticky tip to your mouth. you look up at him wordlessly through your eyelashes, but your tongue darts out in between your lips. you obediently start licking the excessive cum off of his length, making sure to swirl your tongue into his slit and let him see you swallowing down whatever he couldn’t fuck into your throbbing cunt.

you missed this salty, heady taste too. you wish you weren’t so fucked out, wish you had something intelligent to say to this. more than anything else though, you wish you could feel something other than a sick sense of delight at everything that went down. you should be mortified at letting him pry his way into your heart so easily, for letting your walls down so quickly despite having spent five years building them up. 

but now that everything was said and done, all you wanted in that moment was for him to lay down again so you could crawl back into his arms and feel his heartbeat against your bare body. that was the kind of man akira kurusu was. you couldn’t bring yourself to stay away from him for too long, no matter what you tried. you two were meant to be, no matter how much that sentiment had hurt you whenever you were young.

akira mumbles something about getting ready to clean you up, and you gingerly let yourself flop back down on his bed. fatigue seeps quickly into you. too much happened all at once that night, and no matter how much you fought through the fog in your head to make sense of everything, you remember very little after a certain point.

…

…

…

the appetizing scent of curry and coffee greets you when you slowly let your eyelids flutter open. you’re still naked, and the blanket covering you is light and cool. a gentle stream of sunlight tiptoes through the bedroom, and you stir, suddenly aware of how sleep-logged and heavy your body feels. still, it feels nice when you stretch your arms and legs, before realization slams into your consciousness like a sack of bricks.

you shoot upright, and your back immediately screams out in pain. 

fuck. you messed up. you messed up big time.

you scramble to the edge of the bed, and in the corner, your clothes are freshly laundered and folded up. uncertainty gnaws at your stomach, and you rush to get dressed, haphazardly dragging your clothes over your head and slithering into whatever you had on last night. there’s no sign of akira anywhere, at least inside the bedroom, but this place is very much not your room nor your bed, so it has to be akira’s.

it was one thing to go out to dinner with akira and go back to his place for a cup of coffee. it was another to somehow end up having sex with him and passing out in his bed as if you two were actually lovers. you want to slap yourself in the face as the mortification fully settles in. you had only wanted closure last night, and now you don’t know what to make of the situation. things just got messy way too fast; you never had intended on sleeping with him, let alone letting him fuck you raw and creampie you.

you have half a mind to make a run straight for his front door, but when you crack his bedroom door open, you can hear humming and the clattering of plates from the kitchen. you shyly pad out into his hallway and towards where the noise is coming from. whatever foolish hopes you had of making a clean getaway were gone the moment you woke up, clearly having slept in from how much sunlight was pouring in through all of the windows. the very least you could do was maybe thank him for taking care of you last night and apologize for staying the night unexpectedly.

“oh!” akira whirls around with a pan in his hand. surprise blooms on his face, but he quickly smiles at you. “you’re up already! was i too loud? here, why don’t you take a seat at the table? i was hoping i could wake you up with breakfast already prepared, but i guess you beat me to it.”

heat pricks at your cheeks. you want to decline his offer, but the scent of food hits far stronger now that you’re close to the source. you’re begrudgingly reminded of how hungry you are when your stomach practically yowls, so you hang your head and shuffle awkwardly over to take a seat at his dining table. at the center is a small box of contraception and a glass of water, clearly meant for you, and you’re rendered shy again at how far ahead akira is compared to you.

he must have woken up early to have run to the store for plan b and to have enough time to basically cook up a whole meal for you. you don’t have to wait long before akira proudly presents you with a plate of hot rice and curry, followed by a mug of coffee prepared the way you like it best.

“eat. you’ll need the energy if you’re going to be taking the pill,” he encourages you. he presses a spoon into your hand, and you say a quick word of thanks before digging into the food. you’re not sure if it’s because he’s a good chef or if it’s because you’re ravenous, but you make quick work of breakfast. akira laughs softly at how you’re wolfing down your food and reminds you to chew, but before either of you know it, both of your plates are empty and a strained silence lingers above your heads.

“um…” you glance nervously at him. “i can do your dishes before i leave. and- um- please let me know how much i owe you for everything. i really should be on my way…”

“do my dishes? owe me anything?” the dark-haired man looks at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “are you in a rush to go somewhere?”

you should lie and tell him you have a prior appointment. if you’re smart, you would have hopped on the closest train that’ll take you far far away from this dangerous man. but clearly you aren’t as smart as you believe yourself to be, given how many times you chose against the “smarter” option to land yourself where you are now. what’s one more indulgent mistake?

“not… necessarily.” you don’t know how to tell him that you’re not sure how to face everything now. it’s impossible to close the gap of five years in just one hookup, no matter how much your hearts might have both yearned for it. there’s a lot of heavy emotional work left to be done if you want something meaningful to come out of it, and you can’t deny the fact that akira has objectively hurt you by disappearing from your life five years ago. 

but when he reaches over the dining table to take your hand and squeeze it encouragingly, your resolve can only hold strong for so long. you peer up from where you’re staring down at your lap. his beautiful doe eyes are looking straight at you, and your heart throbs painfully inside of your chest. 

you want him. you want this. you want all of it to work out, somehow. 

“if there’s no hurry,” he murmurs soothingly, “stay a while. we have so much we have to catch up on.”

you want to believe in the good. in the worthwhile. in the in-betweens and the gray spaces and the happy endings that are still in the making. it might not have been there the last time, but things have changed, regardless of whether or not you’re willing to accept. with his hand intertwined with yours, this newfound tension hanging between the two of you, maybe it’s time for you to close the gap that had been plaguing you for so long.

this time, you won’t be alone.

author's note: wowee two fics from user pparadiselost within a week!!! i know, i know i have the most random posting schedule oopsie,,,, (//ω//) this fic is dedicated to @clubkira and was inspired by her lovely selfship with akira kurusu! i hope you all enjoyed reading, and if you want to show some appreciation, please consider donating to the humanitarian cause in gaza!!

[iovetecchou]

Just The Tip! ⧸ Sigma.𖥔 ݁ ˖

༞ Contains...! smut. implied established relationship, subspace, dom!reader, masturbation (m and f), mommy kink, teasing, begging, pussydrunk!sigma, desprate!sigma, use of cock cage

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 1,100 words.

kinktober masterlist!

“Please, please, please— I need to feel you, I need to touch you! I want to be inside you— j-just the tip! I promise!”

Sigma lost all composure hours ago. This all started when you came home early and caught him touching himself.

He stammered, trying to cover his most private parts from your view and giving you a sorry excuse of, “I couldn’t help myself!”

But you weren’t buying it. Sigma knew better than this. You rid yourself of your clothes, watching his eyes sparkle with excitement as you crawled up the bed. You sat in front of Sigma, admiring his face as you spread your thighs apart for him.

You saw him fight with himself for a brief moment; trying not to let his gaze wander down between your legs. But ultimately, Sigma caved. You were too tempting, and all he could think about today was worshipping you.

Moments before you walked in, Sigma was imagining you riding his cock until he was shooting blanks. In his fantasies, you were praising him— calling him your good boy, as you fucked him senseless.

So, of course, the moment you put yourself on full display for him like this… Sigma would surrender. You clicked your tongue as you watched him ogle your slick heat. Sigma began inching closer to you, bringing his head between your parted thighs, desperately yearning to taste you.

But you had other plans. Sigma was mere centimeters away from your glistening folds, getting a strong whiff of your arousal, causing his head to reel and his cock to twitch— before you pushed him back. Your hand pressed against his forehead, shoving him away from your inviting heat before whispering,

“Ah, ah, ah… bad boys don’t get to taste mommy. You know that by now. Right, sweetheart?”

You’ve been touching yourself for hours now. Letting orgasm after orgasm rip through you as Sigma pathetically watched. He was nearly sobbing at this point. His need to feel you was agonizing. You didn’t fail to notice how his cock throbbed with need, drooling an immense amount of precum.

You warned Sigma that if he came from watching you, he wouldn’t be able to touch you for a week. The poor man was fisting the bedsheets hard, trying with all his might not to cum as he scored his trembling bottom lip with his teeth.

A couple of tears slipped past his lash line as he begged, “Please, Mommy! Just the t-tip, I promise— nothing more! I want— no- I need it, I need you!”

Your pussy clenched around nothing from his lewd words. You would be lying if you said you weren’t craving him. Watching him get so desperate just from the sight of you pleasuring yourself was such a turn-on. Having Sigma beg for the tiniest bit of attention from you was your breaking point.

“Naughty boy, how shameful. Just the tip, you say? Okay… why don’t you prove to me that you can be satisfied with just that.”

You smirked, inching your hips closer to his. Sigma nearly stumbled off the bed from how fast he shot up. Slotting himself comfortably between your parted thighs. Exactly where he belonged.

“Y-Yes Mommy! Thank you, thank you, thank you— ah…!”

Sigma whined. More tears cascaded down his rosy cheeks as he grasped his needy cock. Wasting no time pushing the blunt head of his dick past the tight ring of your pussy.

His hands came up to your hips, clenching and unclenching around your waist as he tried his hardest not to cum on the spot. Your walls were so warm, wet, and inviting. You were squeezing the head of his dick just right. He was insatiable. He needed more.

“Well? Are you satisfied?” You quipped, smirking as you watched his eyebrows knit in concentration— watery eyes squeezing shut.

He could barely speak. Sigma was a blushing mess. Little whimpers and whines slipped past his parted lips as he tried to regain his composure. But being neglected by you for hours proved too much for him.

Just as you were about to repeat yourself, a moan was ripped from you. Before you could process— Sigma slammed his hips flush into your pelvis. Filling you to the brim with his needy cock. He barely waited a second before he began thrusting into you with reckless abandon.

“Sorry m-mommy— ‘m sorry, wasn’t enough… needed more— hah…!” You watched as Sigma’s eyes rolled back in pleasure. His jaw went slack. His tongue jutted out as he panted— fucking into you sloppily. Drool seeped down his chin as Sigma’s grip on your waist tightened.

“C-Cumming— cumming!” Sigma cried out, grinding his pelvis into yours. You could feel his balls twitching against the underside of your pussy as he emptied his heavy load inside you.

You clicked your tongue, glaring daggers at the man who was still buried to the hilt inside you. Once Sigma came down from his high, the realization of what he had done sunk in.

“A-Ah! I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to, Mommy—“ He frantically pulled out of your tight wet heat, whining as the cool air hit his wet cock, before he continued, “Didn’t mean it, I swear! Let me make it up to you— please, please, please!”

Without a word, you shoved his hands away from your hips. Standing from your shared bed and making your way toward the nightstand. Tears brimmed in the poor man’s eyes once more as you gave him the silent treatment.

He brought his hands to his face, covering his face in shame as he sobbed quietly. Only when he felt you pushing something cool and hard around his balls, did he pull his head up from his hands. Sigma watched in disbelief as you secured the metal ring around his balls, caging his now softening shaft next.

“N-No! Please… not again!” Sigma pleaded, eyes scanning over your blank expression as you pulled your key necklace closer to the cock cage, swiftly locking it before you sat upright.

“Seems like you didn’t learn your lesson. What a shame, and to think you could finally be a good boy for mommy…” You sighed, pushing Sigma flat against the bed.

Sigma pathetically pleaded for forgiveness as you crawled your way up his frame. Your thighs closed around his face as you glanced down at his tear-stained cheeks. A mix of his cum and your arousal slid down your inner thighs as you spat out, "Why don't you clean up your mess? Maybe then I'll consider letting you out of your cage."

[moonlightpetalz6]

Kinktober Day 2 (Vampire)

Character: Yuma Mukami x Reader

Reader: Fem Reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, blood, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names, degradation, harsh language, Marking, possessive Yuma

Wc: 3,610

A/n: I am so sorry for getting this out so late! I had it all set up to post and then got distracted! Anyway, please enjoy the second post for Kinktober! I promise I will get the others out earlier during the day! Also, I do apologize if I miss any warning tags as I tried to make sure I wrote them all above!

______________________________________________________________

You let out a small sigh as you lay in the center of your bed, staring up at the ceiling as you found yourself deep in thought. 'How mad will he be? Should I try to cover it? No, he'll notice.' You feel your brows knit together as you frown, bringing a hand to your neck to carefully slide your fingers over the two bite marks, the skin slightly red and swollen from having been pierced through earlier that night. "What if I just run away until it's healed?" You shake your head at your words as you sit up slowly, walking towards your bathroom. Once inside, you look into the mirror, fingers carefully caressing the wound as you let out a slight hiss from the stinging pain. You grip the sink as you put your head down in defeat. "Yuma isn't going to be happy when he gets back!" You whined, already imagining your boyfriend's reaction. 

You were a sacrificial bride like Yui; only you had been assigned to the Mukami household. Of course, none of the guys took an interest in you as they were more focused on Yui, but you didn't mind, as it just meant you wouldn't constantly have to deal with them trying to feast off your blood. However, this changed when, one night, you stumbled upon Yuma, looking especially tired due to hunger. At first, the thought of leaving him to suffer did cross your mind. Still, seeing the usually gruff and mean vampire looking so tired and almost pathetic, you couldn't help but give him pity as you went and offered your blood to him, stating that it was the only thing you were even alive for and that he should be grateful. Since then, Yuma and you had grown really close, eventually developing a relationship when Yuma declared that no other man was allowed to drink your blood. 

Your ears perk up when you hear voices enter the house, causing you to panic as you quickly try to lock your door and hide under your sheets, praying that Yuma would be too tired to visit you. Wishful thinking, right? After a few minutes of being home, you heard a loud knock on your door, causing a small curse to leave your lips as your grip on the sheets tightened, knuckles slowly turning white as you feared for your life. After a few more knocks from the door, followed by silence on your end, the doorknob started to shake, indicating that the person on the other side was getting annoyed. "Oi! Y/n, why the hell is the door locked?" You heard your boyfriend's voice call out, annoyed from the other side. You slowly pull your head out from the sheets as you shakily answer the man, knowing there is no use in pretending not to be home. 

"I-I'm not feeling too good! So don't come in!" You called, mentally cursing the stutter in your voice from nerves. The doorknob stopped moving as he took a moment to process your words. "Huh? You looked fine earlier when I saw you." He muttered in a voice, sounding like he wasn't buying your excuse. "W-well, I'm not anymore, so go away!" You yelled before hiding under the blankets again, your eyes squeezed shut, your nerves going wild at the potential rage of the man on the other side. You hear a small grunt followed by silence, allowing your body to relax, your grip on the sheets loosening as you allow your heartbeat to fill your ears. This moment doesn't last long as a giant hand comes and snatches the sheets off your puny form, causing you to let out a surprised shriek, quickly jumping up in the bed to look at the culprit. 

There stood your highly intimidating boyfriend towering over the side of your bed with a cocky smirk as he held the sheets in his hands, looking down at you with those mischievous eyes you loved so much. "Feeling sick huh? You look fine to me, livestock." He mocked, eyeing you up and down to make sure he was right and not being a dick. You just sat there staring at him in awe before a pout formed on your face when you processed the old annoying nickname, he used to call you. "Yuma, what did I say about calling me that?! It makes it sound like I'm nothing but a toy to you." You huff, looking away from him as you cross your arms. He says nothing as he clicks his tongue in annoyance and tosses the sheets to the side. Neither of you says anything as you continue to avoid eye contact with him before you feel the mattress sink, indicating that he is moving onto your bed. "Come on, babe I didn't get to see your sexy face at all today." He purred while grabbing your chin, ensuring your gaze landed on him as he smirked, licking his lips.

You watched as he leaned down to place a kiss on your lips but quickly remembered the bite mark on your neck as you lightly pushed him away. "Yuma…not tonight." You muttered, avoiding eye contact again, causing the vampire to frown as his eyes narrowed with your sudden actions. "What the hell is up with you today? First the lying, and now you're avoiding me entirely?" He growled, teeth showing as he clenched his jaw, feeling himself growing angrier at the fact you weren't looking at him. 

You cringe at his tone, your hair standing up as the room fills with a dark atmosphere, causing you to recoil. "N-nothing is wrong…I just-!" Your eyes went wide as Yuma went to move your hair back, something he tended to do when he was giving you his full attention, which you loved; however, this time, all you felt was fear as your body froze. 'He sees it.' You think to yourself, not even having to look in Yuma's direction as a deep growl leaves his throat as he grips your shoulder roughly, pulling your body towards his. You whimper at his rough grip while he goes and forces your chin up, your fearful eyes locking with his enraged ones. "This isn't mine." He growls, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger. 

You don't say anything as he glares down at you, veins starting to pop from his temples and neck. "Whose is it, Y/n?" He hisses while leaning closer to your face, lips only inches apart. You try to look away from him, tears forming as you never liked when Yuma got angry. Of course, he never hit you or anything, but when it came to what was his, you knew his possessive side was nothing to joke about. Yuma watches as you try to avoid him yet again, feeling his blood boil as he pins you down onto the bed, arms above your head, holding them together, one hand watching as you look up at him with fear. He grits his teeth, not liking that look in your eyes as the only emotion he ever wanted to see from those orbs that made his chest flutter was pure love. Yuma knew that he never stood a chance when it came to his other brothers, along with the Sakamaki, when it came to winning Eve, but none of that mattered to him when you entered his life that night you offered your blood to him. "Y/n, I'm not patient, so I'll ask you again." His grip on your wrists tightened as you started to squirm from discomfort. "Who marked what's mine?" His eyes bore into yours, causing a shiver to run through your body. It was like he was staring deep into your soul, driving your heart to race as you started to feel embarrassed from getting excited due to your situation. 

"K-Kou was feeling thirsty, so he-!' You stop speaking when Yuma slams his fist against your bed frame, causing it to crack. "H-Hey! Just because you're angry doesn't mean you can break my stuff!" You yelled up at him, your voice finally returning to normal as you tried to escape his grip. "Tch. Fuck!" Yuma cursed before roughly sinking his fangs into the other side of your neck, causing you to let out a loud whine as you arched your back, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. "O-Ouch, Yuma, that's too hard!" You cried, but he ignored you as he continued to drink your blood, letting out a deep hum as he tasted your flavor on his tongue, his throat growing hot as the warm liquid entered his system. 

Yuma releases your wrists, letting out a deep chuckle as he feels you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, your small, delicate hands caressing the back of his head for comfort, knowing that he tended to calm down whenever you played with his hair. He pulled away from your neck, making sure to lick up any blood that seeped from his marks before sucking on the spot earning a small moan from you as your grip around him tightened. "Y-Yuma, I said not tonight." You whined, trying to wiggle away from him. Yuma grunts as he grabs your hips with his giant hand, giving them a possessive squeeze before pulling away from you. The two of you look into each other's eyes, neither of you saying a word as you catch a glimpse of your blood trickling down his chin. "I'm going to beat his ass." Yuma finally growls while his thumbs carefully rub circles on your hips, his eyes still holding rage, but this time accompanied by love and lust. "You're mine, and they know it." Once again, he sinks his fangs into your flesh, right over the area Kou had bitten before leaving the mansion. 

Yuma hums as his hands start to slide up and down your sides, giving occasional squeezes as he feels your body and blood start heating up, causing the tight feeling in his pants as he pulls away before making more bite marks along your collarbone. "You taste like fucking candy, baby~" He coos between bites listening as you let out small whimpers, your breathing becoming heavy as the pain from his bites soon turns to pleasure while you continue to play with his hair. Yuma loved the taste of your blood; the smell alone drove him crazy. He growls as he pulls away from you, his eyes taking in all the marks showing that you belonged to him and no one else. With a smirk, Yuma positions himself on top of you, his arms on either side of your head as he goes and grinds against you, watching as your already pink cheeks start to turn a deep red as you feel the bulge press against your clothed pussy. 

"Sorry, sugar…" He chuckles while grinding against you again, watching your facial expressions with his lustful eyes as he feels his chest swell with excitement as he watches you squirm and whimper underneath him. His eyes trail back to the bites he left, causing the tent in his pants to twitch as he leans close to your ear, a sadistic smirk on his face. "But seeing you with bites like this makes me so hard~" He growls before nipping at your lobe, causing a slight whine to leave your lips. "Yuma….stop teasing me." You pant out, feeling yourself getting more turned on as the friction becomes too much. Yuma scoffs as his movements halt, causing you to whine at the sudden loss. "Tch, who are you telling me to stop?" He growls while pulling away. You just lay there staring at him with confusion written all over your face as your mind tries to process everything happening due to blood loss. 

Yuma looks down at you, annoyed, as each leg lies on either side of your body. You don't say anything as you watch him trail his fingers across every single mark he made before stopping on the one where Kou's previously lay. "You think after letting my brother sink his fucking fangs into you, I'll do as you please? Fucking slut." He spat while his hands slid down your chest, his rough and giant palms aggressively massaging the mounds of flesh. "Mmh…I didn't let him, Yuma, I promise!" You moan out your mind and body, frustrated with his actions and words. Yuma growls, ripping your top off as he watches your breasts fall with a slight bounce. Your eyes widen as you quickly try to cover up with your arms. Yuma frowns at this as he grabs your arms, roughly pinning them to your sides. "Don't you ever cover this sexy body while with me." His tone is one of warning as he waits for your response. Feeling powerless, you give a weak nod, your body growing hot and embarrassed as he stares at you. 

“Y-Yuma I’m sorry Kou bit me...I'm sorry for being a bad girl." You started to cry, wanting him to smother you in love and praise like he usually did. Yuma takes in your pitiful form and lets out a deep sigh as he goes and licks your tears away, letting out a dissatisfied grunt. "So salty." He mumbled before peppering your face with kisses as he stroked your hair. "Shhh, Sugar…fuck I'm sorry," he murmured, now angry with himself. "Look at me, Y/n," he demands while cupping your cheek. You do as told, giving him a slight pout as he goes and roughly presses his lips to yours, his fangs sinking into the sensitive flesh, causing you to whine while you wrap your arms around him. Yuma hums, satisfied with your response, as he goes and starts to pull your shorts down with his free hand, causing a small gasp to leave your lips as he slowly rubs circles against the wet spot on your panties. 

Yuma pulled away from the kiss, saliva connecting your lips as he went and licked the blood smeared against your lips. "You're mine, Y/n….only I can touch you and drink your blood," he growls while licking down your neck. "Yes, baby, I know…I tried hard to stop him, I promise." You cupped his cheeks, causing a soft sigh to leave his lips as he stared down at you with loving eyes. "If I ever catch those scumbags tasting you, I'll devour you, Y/n." He admits, kissing your wrist gently, sinking his fangs into the tender skin, watching your eyes fill with lust. You give him a loving smile as you tilt your head to the side, eyes half-lidded as a small giggle leaves your lips, causing his heart to race. "I understand." You whispered. Yuma looked at you, trying to find any lies within your words. You knew he had eaten his victim's entire body before, so you knew his words were no threat. After finding none, he smirks while pulling your panties down, his fingers quickly slipping inside your drenched pussy, causing your mouth to form an O as you arched your back small moans leaving your swollen lips. 

"Y/n… you're too sweet for me." He whispers as he slides two fingers in and out of your tight walls. "So, fucking wet for me too, baby~ fuck, I can't wait." He laughed as he watched his fingers become coated in your slick. "I haven't seen you all day…fuck baby." He growled before latching onto one of your perked breasts, causing you to arch your back as your hands wrapped around his head, fingers gripping his soft brown locks. He chuckles, reaching his free hand back as he pulls out his hair tie, allowing you to watch his hair fall beautifully, framing his face and causing you to bite your lip. Yuma carefully grinds the perked bud, ensuring his fangs don't pierce the skin. His fingers start to go faster when he feels you clench around them, causing a grunt to leave his lips, knowing you loved when his hair was down. With a small pop, Yuma released your breast, glancing up at you, who held nothing but lust on your face as your lips parted in the cutest way with each moan that escaped your beautiful throat. 

"Y-Yuma, I'm gonna…" You trail off fists, gripping the sheets as you feel the familiar knot forming, your breathing becoming uneven as your grip on his hair tightens. "Fuck right there, Yuma, please!" You cry, feeling his fingers curl against that one spot. Right as you're about to reach your limit, Yuma's fingers slip out, allowing his ears to fill with the most pathetic noise he's ever heard leave your mouth. He smirks, sitting up straight as he goes, and removes his shirt while unbuckling his pants. "Not yet baby… I'm still pretty angry about my brother leaving his mark on you, you know?" He chuckles, watching your eyes trail down to his now-free erection that smacks against his abdomen. "How can I make it clear to them all that you're truly mine?" He mumbles, pretending to be in thought as he teasingly slides the tip of his dick against your wet folds watching as the precum smears on your glistening pussy, causing his dick to twitch. You whine, wiggling your hips to try and get more friction from your cruel vampire boyfriend. 

"Oh…I know how I can show them~" The corners of his lips rise into a sadistic grin as he positions himself at your needy entrance while placing his face inches from yours, ensuring your eyes are locked. "I'm going to fucking ruin you~" He growls before slipping his dick inside with a rough thrust. You throw your head back as Yuma continues to thrust deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips as he looks down at you, the sadistic grin still plastered across his face as he licks his lips. "That's right, sugar; you're my tasty human slut, right?" He purrs as he goes and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. You watch as Yuma licks up your thigh before sinking his fangs into the tender flesh, his eyes locked with yours. You bite your lip, letting out a deep moan as your eyes roll to the back of your head from all the rough pleasure your body receives. 

Yuma continues to thrust as deep as he can, refusing to leave your addicting pussy for even a second as he watches his dick get covered in your juices. "You're such a filthy girl, Y/n. so fucking filthy just for me!" He growls, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix, causing tears in your eyes from the sudden pain mixed with pleasure. "F-Fuck Yuma too deep!" You cry, trying to push him back but failing as he grips your hand. "That's right, baby. I'm so fucking deep inside you right now. I'm going to ruin this filthy pussy of yours. Going to make it shaped just right for me and only me." Your pussy clenches at his words, the knot from earlier coming back as you arch your back off the bed. "Fuck! Fuckfuck! Yuma, I'm going to cum!" You cry, tears of pleasure falling from your face. Yuma clicks his tongue as he slows down his pace, causing a whine to leave your lips. "Why'd you do that?" You pout, looking up at him with glassy eyes drooling, staining your chin, lips all bruised from his kisses. Yuma smirks as he leans down, giving you a quick kiss as he goes and starts kissing and sucking each mark he left along your neck and collarbone, making sure to provide each of them equal attention. 

"Because Sugar," He starts his free hand sliding up and down your leg, still placed over his shoulder, before giving your thigh a possessive squeeze. "You can't come without my permission, and after I've had plenty to drink." He chuckles before sinking his fangs back into your neck, his thrusts becoming aggressive again as you throw your head back, allowing him better access as his fangs sink deeper into the sensitive spot of your neck, knowing it was one of your favorite places for him to emerge his fangs. Yuma felt himself going feral as the temperature of your blood increased, mixing with the salty flavor of your sweaty skin. He lets out a deep moan, his thrusts starting to become sloppy. "Cum baby…cum with me." He pants, kissing along your jawline. "Show me you're mine." After hearing your boyfriend's possessive words followed by a deep growl, you felt the knot burst, your vision going white as a loud moan echoes throughout your room. 

Yuma smirks as he fills your pussy with his cum making sure none slips out as he looks down at you with the most possessive look you've ever seen him have on that gorgeous face of his. "That's right, baby! Fuck so tasty~ give me more, baby; come on, give it to me!" He laughs, still moving his hips through your orgasm as you let out small, babbled whines, unable to form an actual sentence from how fucked out and dizzy you were due to the blood loss. Yuma looks at you and pouts gently, tapping his finger to your nose before playfully scratching at it, chuckling as he watches you give a tired smile. 'So, fucking cute and sweet.' He thinks the love for you flows through his entire being as he feels himself getting hard inside you. "Hey, baby." He whispers in your ear, giving you a few kisses, to which you hum in response, lazily playing with his hair. 

"Come on; Sugar let's play more~"