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cherienymphe · 3 months ago

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White Lines & White Knights

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, pr*stitution, power imbalance, classism, mentions of death, jealousy, humiliation, revenge p*rn, drug dealer!Rafe, drug use, Pogue!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You and Rafe are using each other until you decide that's not what you want anymore, and the spoiled rich kid will do whatever it takes to have his expensive toy back in his bed.

⭑

Your door shut behind you with a resounding click, and once in the comfort of your home, you took the time to decompress. You took advantage of your much needed reprieve, the back of your head grazing the wood as you allowed your eyes to fall closed. Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest, and you wondered if a day would come where it ever wouldn’t. After all, this wasn’t exactly “new” anymore…

It had been five months since you buried your mom, five months since you discovered the mountain of debt she’d done an impressive job of hiding from you, and five months since you thought you’d be homeless on the street in less than one. In two weeks, you’d dealt with a loss you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another forty years or so and took on the kind of responsibility you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another three.

Your mom died 152 days ago…

…and you’d started fucking Rafe Cameron less than a month later.

You liked to pretend to not know why you slept with Kildare’s prime rich boy that fateful Saturday night, but you were far more self aware than you wanted to be. Even if you weren’t, it wasn’t exactly some mysterious string of decisions that lead to being tangled up in the sheets with Sarah’s asshole of an older brother. You didn’t need to pay someone to diagnose you.

You were grieving.

It was really just that simple, and the monetary stress on top of that drove you to find comfort in strange drinks and hard drugs. To this day you still didn’t know if Rafe just happened to be at the right place at the right time or if he heard whispers about John B.’s best friend snorting pills and getting shit faced when her usual crowd was looking the other way, but either way, the stuffy Kook clearly saw an opportunity to kill several birds with one stone.

“First two lines are free,” he’d told you that night, the bass of the music downstairs muffled by the expensive walls of some girl’s house.

You remembered how you’d chuckled, drunkenly shaking your head.

“Well, two lines is all I’m doing, I guess,” you’d murmured, throwing your hands up.

Rafe’s smirk had been cruel, a mocking glint in his blue eyes.

“What?” he’d dragged out, head tilted. “Spent all that life insurance money, already?”

Any other time and Rafe’s insensitivity might’ve upset you, but at the time you’d been drunk out of your mind and looking for more ways to forget the sudden absence in your life.

“I can’t imagine why Sarah hates you,” you’d sarcastically replied, approaching the impressive desk and leaning over to inhale a line.

You wiped your nose as you straightened, lashes fluttering as you ignored the feeling of Rafe’s gaze on you.

“I’ll be lucky if I even have a house to live in next week.”

The words had come out slurred, accompanied by a light chuckle, and deep down you’d felt the flutter of stress that you’d been desperately ignoring for weeks. You’d quickly snorted the other line, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Turns out my mom was skilled at hiding more than just illnesses…”

You remembered the silence—from both you and Rafe—and how in that moment you’d allowed yourself a solid four seconds of lingering on the reality of your predicament. In those four seconds, your eyes had watered and your lips had trembled and your throat had tightened, and after those four seconds, you were turning to Rafe with a haughty smile.

“Guess you won’t be finding a new client in me, huh?” you’d wondered with a shrug, finding a seat on the desk.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been unreadable as he eyed you, sitting in the chair at the desk, legs spread as he ran his eyes over you—slowly and in a way you didn’t hate at the time. You hadn’t been able to tell what he was thinking, although looking back, you wondered how it wasn’t so obvious to you then. Maybe because it was just too cruel of a thought, and while it was no secret Rafe was a spoiled asshole, you had never once thought of him as cruel.

Rafe had merely shrugged.

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” he’d slowly said, the corner of his pink lips curving upwards just a tad. “Besides…”

You’d watched him stand, rounding the desk to come and tower over you where you sat.

“I like to think of myself as a pretty ethical kind of guy…”

You’d started to snort at that before his gaze met yours again, and you found yourself swallowing whatever you were about to say. You hadn’t done a thing when Rafe reached up to touch your arm, the feel of his finger so light. You hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the way your heart skipped a beat at both his close proximity and the change in atmosphere. You hadn’t been able to ignore—however—the heat that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“...and I’ve been known to meet people halfway. Accept whatever they can offer…”

You remembered your internal conflict that night.

You’d been drunk and high and sad…not stupid. You knew exactly what Rafe was insinuating to you, and you’d struggled with the idea of really sleeping with Rafe Cameron for more drugs. The man was far from unattractive, sure that if drugs weren’t involved you’d still consider sleeping with him. If you’d believed in any of that, you’d imagine that your mom was turning over in her grave. At the time though, you hadn’t been quite sure as to what you believed in, so when he took your silence for consent, leaning in and touching your nose with his…

You hadn’t stopped him when he closed the distance.

You hadn’t even known whose house you were at, only internally apologizing to them for having sex on their expensive desk. You didn’t know if it was the drugs or the alcohol or simply Rafe Cameron, but it was easily the best sex you’d ever had in your life, and at one point you’d really considered how much better it could possibly be to fuck him without the condom.

You had no idea that you’d eventually find out.

Once dressed, you’d walked home with a small bag of pills and a satisfied grin. You knew that your friends would host some kind of intervention if they ever found out, but all you’d been able to focus on was the simple fact that fucking Rafe Cameron for a little coke and pills wasn’t sounding like the worst idea. Of course, if you’d known that you’d eventually start fucking him for your livelihood, you might’ve made different choices that night.

You pressed your hand to your face and pushed away from the door, eager to start the shower and scrub the stench of him off of you. Per routine, you took the money out of your pocket before getting undressed, eyeing the wad of one hundreds that now sat on your nightstand. Two grand was nothing to someone like him, but to someone like you, it made all the difference in the world.

…and Rafe knew that.

He’d known that when he handed you a thousand dollars one night, the coke in your system just starting to hit. You’d looked up at him from where you sat in confusion, hesitantly wrapping your hand around the money as you alternated between eyeing it and eyeing him. You hadn’t known how to feel about it, especially since it had only been moments ago when he was inside of you…and there he was handing you a grand in hundreds.

“Don’t look like that,” Rafe had chuckled, walking to his dresser in search of a shirt. “You know you need the money.”

He wasn’t wrong…and that was the problem.

Unless you hit a lucky streak in life, you’d always need the money, and that was exactly why you were in the predicament you were in—four months later and putting up with the monster that was Rafe Cameron just to keep a roof over your head. The thought brought tears to your eyes, positive now that your mom could see you and was beyond disappointed in you.

Her disappointment could only be outdone by your own.

You were in a situation that you couldn’t get out of, on the verge of ending this arrangement so many times before asking yourself what better way could you pay your mom’s debts and survive? It wasn’t easy money by far, but it was fast money, and it was the kind of money that would take months to make at whatever low paying job you’d find around Outer Banks. Someone like you rarely got hired at the country club or working for some rich snob who wiped their ass with the kind of money you needed.

Rafe knew this too.

Tears kissed your eyes as you scrubbed your skin raw, wishing that you could scrub away the nasty bruise right along with the sweat and grime. You winced every time you touched it, cursing the blond and feeling one of those moments where you considered blocking him and moving on from this pathetic era in your life for good.

Fucking Rafe Cameron for drugs didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time, fucking him for money seemed like an even better one…until that entitled attitude started to extend to the woman he was paying good money to have access to. You remembered the first time you opposed something he wanted to do, the way in which he ignored you, the way he merely pressed your face into the pillow to shut you up.

It was the first time you felt truly icky about this whole situation.

Not even just icky.

…but afraid.

“I don’t pay you to tell me what you will and won’t do in bed,” he’d chuckled at you like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

You’d still been trembling and wiping mascara from your cheeks.

“I pay you because I want to fuck you,” he’d slowly whispered to you, leaning in. “...and you let me because you don’t want to be sleeping on the beach.”

He’d held your gaze for what felt like too long, impressing upon you the true dynamic of this arrangement, and you remembered the unease that had festered in your gut that day. Maybe all the drugs and alcohol hadn’t allowed you to fully look at this arrangement for what it was and the power imbalance here, but you had for the first time that day, and you hadn’t liked it.

You liked it even less now, wrapping the towel around you and wondering how you were ever going to get out of this predicament you’d put yourself into.

“My family’s going out of town for the weekend,” the familiar blond mumbled to you as he inhaled a familiar powdery substance off the back of his hand. “Pack a bag when you get home, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at that, huffing instead.

“I can’t spend the whole weekend on Figure 8,” you told him. “I have plans.”

Rafe nodded, and you hated the smile that danced across his lips.

“Okay, uh, be ready at 8, I don’t want-.”

“Rafe, I’m serious,” you cut him off, shrugging. “I can’t stay at your house all weekend.”

You watched him watch you, slowly swiping his tongue between his lips as a frown started to take over. His dirty blond hair kissed his brows, and the longer the silence stretched, the more nervous you grew. You watched as Rafe glanced away, seemingly deep in thought before those baby blues of his rested on you, much colder than they were a few seconds ago.

“What the hell am I paying you for?” he whispered.

The question was rhetorical, and you swallowed.

“Rafe…I’ve barely seen my friends in months. I finally made plans to meet up with them for more than five minutes and-.”

“...and whose fault is that?” he shrugged.

You frowned at him.

“Nobody told you to go off on a bender when your mom kicked the bucket…” you blinked at his callousness. “Maybe you should’ve been finding comfort in your friends instead of drugs and vodka…and me.”

He finished his sentence with a soft—and yet cruel—smile.

“I pay you good money—great money even!—to be available when I want you to be, and unless you’ve found some other rich asshole to open your legs for, which I doubt…be ready tomorrow at 8.”

He was standing, now, looking down at you where you sat on the bed. The harsh reminder of your roles here had you looking away, and Rafe turned away when he rightfully took your silence as confirmation. You stared at the wall for a few moments before turning to stare at his back, thinking to yourself that this couldn’t go on much longer. Whether it took 1 or 5 jobs, you couldn’t keep relying on Rafe Cameron forever.

What was once a weekly occurrence had turned into something entirely other, and it hadn’t bothered you so much when your mother’s death was still so fresh and you were seeking solace in the worst coping mechanisms known to man—including isolation. Now, however, you were waking up to the choices you’d made and you hated the feeling of being inebriated and being surrounded by people you barely knew.

You hated being away from your friends.

“I didn’t even know you’d gotten a job,” John B. said to you hours later, looking disappointed but understanding. “JJ’s gonna be real disappointed. He’s been talking all week about having you try some new weed he got.”

You gave a light laugh at that, a pang in your chest at how much you missed doing stupid shit with them.

“Yeah,” you sadly said. “The world—and bills—doesn’t stop just because my mom died.”

The brunette grew quiet at that, worriedly eyeing you now.

“You doing okay…?”

You sighed at that, looking out over the yard of The Chateau, fiddling with your fingers as you thought of a certain blond.

“I’ve been better, but…I’ve been worse too.”

Your answer was honest, and you briefly wondered what John B. would think if he knew just how bad ‘worse’ had been. You didn’t think any of them would hate you if they knew the full extent of just how far you’d fallen, but you knew they’d have a hard time wrapping their head around it. The drugs and alcohol were one thing, but Rafe Cameron was entirely another. The man was the worst example of a Kook if there was one, representing every bad trait attributed to them.

Your friends would not understand you essentially sacrificing your self respect for money and drugs.

Sometimes you didn’t understand it either.

Most especially when Rafe had his hands around your neck.

He picked you up at 8 on the dot Friday night—a man of his word if nothing else—and less than a hour later you were bent over his father’s desk as he pounded into you. Your head was hanging off of it, fighting hard to not scrape your nails against the dark mahogany. It wasn’t the first time Rafe fucked you on Ward’s desk, and you doubted that it would be the last time. There’d even been a few rare occasions when he fucked you in the older man’s bed, and you didn’t know what complex the blond had that fueled these decisions, but you weren’t a psychologist so you figured it wasn’t anything to concern yourself with.

Despite the tight grip on your throat, a choked moan managed to escape every time Rafe pushed his cock into you. Sweat made his skin glisten, and you were sure you fared no better. His hair wasn’t so neat, now, and you had the stray thought that you preferred it that way. Rafe being so far from ugly definitely made this arrangement easier to swallow down at times, but other times it just made you angry.

How was it fair that someone seemingly had everything, including the big dick to match?

Rafe walked around like he was God’s gift to the world, possessing one of the most rotten personalities you’d ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of, and he seemed to be rewarded with it with everything the average person could only dream about. As if any of that wasn’t enough, you practically rewarded him with even more by essentially telling him he could do whatever he wanted so long as the price was right.

It made you disgusted with yourself at times.

When he pressed a hand to your stomach, hips slowing to a pace that made your breath hitch, you squeezed your eyes shut. In the quiet office, the sound of his cock disappearing between your folds was loud, the wet noise telling you that there’d no doubt be a mess left on Ward’s desk when this was all said and done. You heard Rafe curse, and you didn’t have the energy to lift your head from where it hung off the desk.

“...and to think,” he panted from above you. “You were going to pass this up to sit around with those dirty Pogues.”

At this, you did attempt to sit up, a hand against his chest and one on the desk as he thrusted into you.

“Those ‘dirty Pogues’ are my friends,” you forced out, lashes fluttering. “...and clearly you forget that I’m one too.”

Rafe merely chuckled at that, perfect teeth winking at you as he grinned.

“Yeah, but you’re my dirty Pogue so it’s a little different.”

His words had your frown deepening, disgust filling your chest at the way he talked about you while literally fucking you. Completely turned off, you turned your head away, attempting to separate yourself from him. That haughty laugh reached your ears, and to your dismay, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“What…?” he lazily drawled. “You don’t like the sound of that?”

“You’re being an asshole, get off of me…”

He jerked his hips against you, making you gasp, and you squirmed in his arms as you fought to get away. Rafe leaned in to harshly nip his teeth at your cheek, his movements growing rough, causing the desk to shake.

“I’ve spent too much money on you to not say whatever the hell I want,” he evenly said. “So, yeah, at this point, I’ll confidently say I practically own you.”

Tears kissed your eyes at the disgusting words, and fed up with your resistance, Rafe merely placed a hand between your breasts before harshly shoving you back down. You winced at the action, but you had no time to fully linger on it as Rafe started to roughly plunge his cock into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours reaching your ears. He wouldn’t allow you to sit up, both of his hands wrapped around your wrists now as he leaned over you.

This felt too reminiscent of the time he’d pressed your face into the bed, telling you to relax as he pressed the head of his cock just above where your folds were. You recalled the uncomfortable feeling and the tears that stained the pillow as he slowly fucked you in a place no one ever had before. The deja vu of it all had your mind wandering, eyes defocusing as you just waited for it to be over. It seemed like Rafe’s grunts sounded from above you forever, and when he finally came onto your stomach with a low moan, you didn’t move for some time.

You were slow to sit up as he got dressed, trembling as you steaded yourself for what you were about to say.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

The words came out whispered, but in the quiet study, you might as well have yelled them. Rafe didn’t acknowledge you, and you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Frustrated with his refusal to take you seriously, you hopped off of Ward’s desk, angrily grabbing your clothes.

“I’m serious, Rafe. After this weekend…this is done,” you continued, voice firmer, now. “Don’t call me or text me or worry about any more money. I can’t rely on you forever anyway.”

By now, Rafe was actually listening to you, and you avoided his gaze as you got dressed. His silence was loud, and when you were finally decent again, only then did you lift your gaze to glance at him. His visage was unreadable, and after some time, he merely blinked at you.

“If I remember correctly, per your own words, your mom had enough debt ‘to file for bankruptcy’.”

His words made you sharply inhale, and you bit your tongue as he ran his hands through his hair in a poor attempt to tame the damp locks.

“Don’t ruin your life just because you’re pissed at me,” he coldly added.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Personal feelings aside, I can’t rely on you forever, Rafe. That’s just the truth. I have to figure something out eventually, and there’s no time like the present,” your voice shook as he fixed you with an unnerving stare. “I miss my friends, and I don’t want to be the sad, damaged girl running to Rafe Cameron just so I don’t feel anything anymore.”

The blond followed your lead, folding his arms over his own chest as he leaned against the wall, staring you down with that annoying crooked smile.

“...and where exactly do you plan to find a job that pays you what I do?”

“There are jobs, Rafe. I’ll find one.”

You didn’t appreciate his tone nor the look he was giving you as he studied you. He was looking down on you, and yes while that wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence, this time was different. He was looking down his nose like he didn’t believe in you, like he expected you to be crawling back to him in no time, begging him to fuck you again.

After a few moments, that crooked smile curved even more, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes.

“Well, I wish you luck…”

His voice didn’t match the words that came out of his mouth, and his gaze most certainly didn’t.

“I literally called this morning and was told over the phone that you all were hiring...and now I get here, and I’m being told you’re not…?”

You tried to keep the skepticism out of your tone, but your frustration at your predicament was bubbling up and threatening to be unleashed on the lone man before you. The inside of the country club was practically empty—a slow Tuesday—and you briefly glanced around at the two staffers in the whole room. Sure, you could write it off to a slow day that didn’t need a full staff, but something in you told you that it was more than that.

You didn’t believe the man in front of you.

“Look, I don’t know what else to tell you, miss. Whoever you talked to got it wrong. I’m sorry for the miscommunication on our end,” was his only explanation.

You didn’t dare bother to point out that both he and whoever you’d spoken with on the phone sounded damn near identical.

When it became obvious that this conversation was over, you turned away with a small huff, breezing outside to a familiar dark car. Kie was standing by it, arms uncomfortably crossed over her chest, glaringly obvious that she’d rather be anywhere but here despite being from ‘here’.

“Well…?” she wondered as you got closer.

“They’re not hiring,” you mumbled as you slid into the passenger seat.

She joined you inside the vehicle a moment later, a frown on her face.

“...but you called.”

“I know.”

There was a beat of silence before she scoffed, reaching for her door handle.

“If this is because you aren’t some rich snob looking for play money…”

She trailed off when you spoke up.

“No, I don’t…I don’t think it’s that,” you stopped her. “Let’s just go.”

She eyed you for a few moments, frown deepening.

“Are you sure? Y/N, this is like the fourth place you’ve been to today,” she pointed out. “...and I don’t want to add my stress to your stress, but it’s kind of fucked up.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t possible for you to be any more stressed than you already were, simply signaling for her to drive. You could feel her eyes periodically landing on you as she did, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering why the universe had it out for you.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen or talked to Rafe, weeks since you ended your little arrangement, and weeks since you’d had a consistent source of income. It wasn’t a pretty nor respectable way to make money, but you’d been making money nonetheless. However, you couldn’t find it in you to continue sacrificing your self respect to keep sleeping with Rafe Cameron. You’d also been telling the truth when you told him you didn’t want to be this messed up sad thing anymore.

You had long let go of the drugs and cut back on the drinking, and now you’d dropped Rafe too.

You’d had hope…but now it was dwindling.

No one would hire you. In fact, no one had even allowed you far enough to officially apply just to get a foot into an interview. It was always the same. You’d call ahead so you didn’t waste your time, they’d tell you they were looking for people, and then the moment you actually showed up and introduced yourself, it was an entirely different story. It didn’t make any sense to you, and the thought of ever proving Rafe right made you want to be sick.

“How bad is it?” JJ asked you a few days later, the both of you away and isolated in some corner of some guy’s party.

You looked down at the weak drink in your hand, contemplating on whether or not to be honest.

“It’s…manageable.”

A whopper of a lie.

“...then why don’t I believe you? Come on, Y/N, it’s me. I know your mom wasn’t the best when it came to funds, and when she died…” he scoffed. “You weren’t exactly in any shape to march down to anyone’s job and fight for work just to keep things afloat.”

You looked away at that, throat tight.

“I’m honestly shocked you’ve kept it up for this long.”

If only he knew…

You felt his gaze on you as you wondered just how truthful you should be, but you reminded yourself that this was JJ. If he knew the full extent of everything, he’d be likely to rob a bank. Nevermind the fact that it would just make him ask more questions, like how you’d even managed to keep things afloat all this time. You didn’t think you could lie to him, and you didn’t think you could handle being on the receiving end of whatever look JJ would undoubtedly give you if you told him you’d been sleeping with Rafe to pay your bills.

You didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that the subject of your thoughts walked through the doors to prevent this conversation from continuing. His presence shouldn’t have shocked you—the party was pretty mixed with people from all sides of the island after all—but it still gave you pause, and JJ noticed.

“This asshole,” you heard the blond murmur, rolling his eyes.

You were inclined to agree, and you shrunk in on yourself with your drink, unable to ignore the knowledge that Rafe was at the same party you were at. In the weeks you’d been free of him, you’d had time to really ponder on your dalliance, and while you’d long accepted your hand in your own life choices, it was now hard to ignore Rafe’s own opportunistic choices in the situation. Sure, yes, you fucked him for money…

…but what did it say about him that he was perfectly happy to enter an arrangement in which he kept you off of the streets so long as you opened your legs for him?

If he was a good guy he’d just…keep you off the streets.

Like JJ would if you ever told him the truth.

You’d just decided to stop hiding in the bathroom when you came face to face with the man himself, heart skipping a beat at his presence. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, and you had the sneaking suspicion he hadn’t been waiting for his turn.

“How’s the job search going?” was how he greeted you, and you hadn’t been able to keep the ire off of your face.

He softly laughed to himself at that, nodding.

“I figured you’d look a little something like that.”

“Fuck you,” you breathed, and Rafe frowned, tilting his head to the side.

“You were, remember? And then you stopped…and that’s how you found yourself back at square one,” he reminded you.

The music traveled from downstairs into the dimly lit hallway, and you looked away from him just as he heaved a tired sigh.

“Do I need to apologize for calling you and your friends dirty Pogues? Is that what this is about?” he lazily wondered.

You didn’t dignify that with a response, and when you lifted your gaze, Rafe was rolling his eyes. He fixed you with a look, reaching up to touch your hair with a tsk.

“Come on, Y/N. You need me…”

He leaned in.

“We both know it, and you’re never going to find a job in this town.”

“You don’t know that,” you fired back, slapping his hand away as you took a step away from him.

Almost instantaneously, Rafe’s entire expression morphed, and you swallowed at the shadow that passed over his features. His pink lips pressed together, and those blue eyes hardened in a way you’d never been on the receiving end of. You watched his nostrils flare.

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

The combination of his tone and his expression and his words gave you pause, and your brows pulled together as you stared at him. For a moment, the music in the house faded into the background as Kie’s words came to your mind. ‘It’s kind of messed up’, she’d said, and while you hadn’t given that much thought to the statement then…you certainly were now.

“What did you do?” you shakily asked the blond, skin growing cold.

Rafe didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it was a lie anyway.

“I don’t know what you mean,” was all he said, one brow raised.

You felt tears kiss your eyes, and you felt silly for not putting the pieces together earlier. You didn’t know how, but somehow, Rafe had a hand in your lack of employment. It seemed exactly like something he’d do, but the only thing you couldn’t understand was why. Why do it? Just to see you fail? Just to feel like he’d won?

“Look, this little rebellious act…it’s cute and amusing and all…” he shrugged off with a small smile. “...but it’s silly. We both know you’re just going to end up right back under me.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you hissed, moving past him.

“Yeah, and you knew that when you let me fuck you for drugs on some guy’s desk,” he threw at you, making you flinch and slow down.

“I was going through things then, Rafe! I didn’t…” you huffed a sigh, turning to glower at him. “I didn’t care about things I most definitely should have. It’s different now.”

You threw your hands up.

“I’m different, now, and I don’t want to keep sacrificing my dignity and self respect just to keep a roof over my head. I don’t want to sleep with someone who views me and anyone like me as beneath him. It disgusts me, and unlike you, I have no interest in sleeping with people who I claim disgust me.”

You watched Rafe’s lip curl over his teeth.

“Yeah, that’s real respectable and noble and all, but I wonder how noble it’ll feel when you’re being evicted,” he spat at you, moving closer. “You’re not getting a job in this town, that I can promise you, so you keep this up for as long as you want to, but we both know how this ends.”

You leaned away from the finger in your face.

“I fucking own you,” he bit out, roughly grabbing your arm and yanking you close despite your resistance. “You named your price, and I paid it-.”

“For a service! Not a person,” you harshly whispered.

Rafe’s chuckle was cold as he stared you down, perfect teeth winking at you.

“You think you’re the only girl in Outer Banks willing to spread her legs for some money? You think I’d have to pay any of them half of what I paid you?” your stomach dropped at his words. “I’ve been a lot more generous than you realize.”

He roughly let you go, practically shoving you away from him, and you stumbled. He eyed you with an expression filled with promise, and when you turned away to finally find your friends and hopefully leave, you descended the stairs on unsteady legs.

You pushed against Rafe’s arm and chest as he held your chin in a tight grip. The vehicle you were next to hid you both from view, everyone on the beach none the wiser to what was happening in the parking lot. Your feet tripped over one another as he forced you back, trapping you between him and the metal contraption.

“Is that what you came up with? You think that pathetic Pogue is going to pay your bills? Give you a place to stay when that eviction notice is taped to your door?”

“Get…off…of me,” you snarled, finally shoving him away with difficulty.

Your breathing was heavy as you glared at the blond, lips trembling and heart racing at the downright evil glint in his blue eyes. You glanced over his shoulder for any way to get away from him, your frustration growing as he moved closer.

“Color me curious, but is it somehow more dignified to fuck someone like JJ instead of me?”

The jealousy dripping from his every word threw you for a loop, and you weren’t in the right headspace to even linger on how strange that was.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re not like that,” you drunkenly choked out. “I don’t know why you feel like I need to answer to you about my personal choices.”

It had only been thirty minutes ago that you were dancing with your friends. JJ—ever the flirt—had gotten a bit handsy, but it was nothing unusual. He could get handsy with a tree, and you’d merely smiled at the behavior, ignorant to the heated gaze that was hyper focused on you. You hadn’t even realized he’d been following you when you went to get a drink from Hayward’s truck.

“Butt out of my life already. You’ve already done enough,” you hissed at him, moving to get past him when he stopped you.

“We’re not done talking-.”

His words were interrupted by your hand, the sound of the slap echoing in your ears, and he’d just harshly pushed you against the car at your back when a familiar voice interrupted you both.

“Get off of her!”

Kie was suddenly there, helping you in shoving him away, and she looked at Rafe like he’d lost his mind—like she’d bore witness to an even sinister side to him. The blond didn’t seem all that fazed by her presence, barely sparing her a glance as his jaw clenched, his eyes on you. Clearly he felt that whatever he was contemplating wasn’t worth it, because without another word—but not without a final scoff—he made his way back to the party on the beach.

Kie wrapped her arms around you when you started to cry.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

What a loaded question, and you realized that the truth was just on the edge of your tongue. Unable to stop yourself, you threw your arms around her, collapsing under the weight of all your choices and what had led you to make them.

“Kie,” you started, voice trembling in her ear. “I have to tell you something.”

If she was horrified by the truth, she didn’t show it much. You could tell she was shocked as the words tumbled from your lips, her brown eyes stricken and face draining of color. You didn’t know what bothered her more—the drugs, the prostitution, or that both involved Rafe Cameron. As it turns out, it was none of those things.

“Why didn’t…why didn’t you let us help you?” she tearfully wondered, looking between your eyes. “We know how hard it’s been for you, and we wanted to be there for you, but you…you just disappeared. You barely came around, and John B. heard things, but he didn’t want to believe them.”

She whispered that last part, and your chest ached at the thought of your friends hearing about your out of character behavior but feeling powerless to stop it, accepting it as part of your grief.

“Rafe’s a demented asshole,” she finally spoke on the elephant in the room. “...and we won’t let him win, okay?”

There was conviction in Kie’s voice, the kind of conviction that made you want to believe her, and so you nodded at her words.

She helped you straighten, wiping your face and taking you back to the party, quietly promising you that she wouldn’t say anything about any of this to the guys. She stuck to you for the rest of the night, and a week later, she made good on her promise, her parents shaking your hand as they welcomed you to their staff.

“We could always use the extra hands,” Mrs. Carrera told you one Friday evening. “It gets crazy busy, especially on the weekends.”

All the noise in the restaurant only validated her statement.

You’d been working at The Wreck for a week, and while it was nothing like what Rafe had been paying you, it was a job. It was a means of earning your own money that didn’t involve lowering yourself to the likes of Rafe Cameron. It was grueling, sure, and you sometimes wondered if it was truly worth the money, but then you’d think of the alternative, and you’d decide that it was worth something and that’s what mattered.

You hadn’t been paying that much attention when you approached your last table for the night, looking up from the apron at your waist and stopping in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here too,” Topper said, a fairly neutral greeting.

Topper may have been just as much of an asshole as his friends, but he at least played nice for the public. Your gaze traveled around the table, quickly looking away when it connected with a familiar blue.

“It’s…a fairly new gig,” you finally said, getting your notepad ready.

“Hey, if you’re going to use your friends for anything, might as well use them to become a productive member of society,” he told you, his tone now making you frown.

Opting to ignore the comment, you asked them what they wanted. You didn’t make eye contact with Rafe when he gave you his order, hand unsteady as you wrote it down. When you left them to go and get their drinks, you weren’t surprised to hear the scrape of a chair behind you. You were focused on rounding the counter, reaching for some clean glasses.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You didn’t forget your last encounter with the rich blond, tempted to ignore his presence altogether, but you were unfortunate enough to know how Rafe operated. Pausing in your movements, you turned to look at him, not surprised at all by the unhappy look on his face.

“I’m working, Rafe. What does it look like?”

You eyed the way his jaw ticked, finger gently tapping against the counter as he simply…stared you down. You glanced away, realizing that he didn’t have any power over you anymore. No, you weren’t completely out of the woods, but you had a secured source of income, and you’d happily struggle and scrape over sleeping with Rafe ever again.

“Go find some other struggling girl to take advantage of,” you finally said to him, grabbing their drinks and making your way to their table without a backwards glance.

Working at The Wreck was hard work, and no matter how many shifts you covered and how many tips you got, it was still long and hard work for half the money Rafe had ever paid you. You knew this when Kie came to you about the job, but on the other side of it, you were so beyond grateful for it. You were still stressed, of course, your monetary problems not going away anytime soon, but it was the normal stress of the average working twenty-something.

It wasn’t the kind of worry that came from a violent and abusive lover.

Rafe had been by the restaurant a few times since that day, and each time was more nerve-wracking than the last. Sometimes you served him, sometimes you didn’t, but it didn’t really matter because his gaze always found its way to you either way. On the days when Kie worked too, she’d ask you if you wanted her to do something about him, but you always declined.

After all, what reason would you have her give to her parents for kicking out the son of Ward Cameron who—to their knowledge—hadn’t done anything to warrant it?

Maybe you should’ve listened to Kie though. While you didn’t know if that would’ve changed things, you at least would have felt better about attempting to do something. Perhaps it was the mere sight of watching you work—watching you earn money independent of him—that made him snap, made him drop all pretenses completely. Barring him from the restaurant while you were there might’ve triggered some out of sight, out of mind response. It might’ve forced him to slowly get over whatever this thing was that he had about you.

It might have…

…and it also might not have done shit. Perhaps nothing would’ve changed, and you still would’ve found yourself tearfully staring at Kie’s mom as you took off your apron for the last time.

It was a normal Saturday when the texts and emails came through. The busiest day of the week, the most packed the restaurant ever would be for the next six days, and you’d been placing some fries down in front of some family’s kid when the noise in the restaurant…changed. You hadn’t been able to pinpoint how it changed, but if you did your best, it was like the chatters went from excitement about their food or whatever happened during the week to something else entirely.

One single thing that everyone was talking about.

You weren’t getting paid to mind your patrons’ business, but you started to think differently about that when the people at the table you were next to started to heavily eye you. The whole restaurant was loud with hushed chatter, so you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the glances between the phones in their hands and you had you frowning.

You were slowly glancing around—realizing that that table wasn’t the only one—when you were yanked by your arm off the floor.

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” you worriedly wondered the moment Kie had you hidden from view.

The look on her face was hard to read, but her parted lips and wide eyes told you that she was horrified. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, seemingly unable to get the words out before slamming it shut, swallowing. The combination of her expression, her silence, and the lack of silence out there had a ball of dread forming deep in your gut.

“Kie,” you softly said. “What…what’s wrong?”

It took her a moment to speak.

“It’s Rafe,” she softly said.

Your confusion only grew, still not quite understanding.

“What happened? Is he bothering you? Did…he do something to you?” you hesitantly asked, fearful that your former tormentor had turned his sights onto your friend.

“Not to me.”

That simple sentence started to put the pieces together, and you turned your face towards the front of the restaurant, recalling the stares and whispers and listening to the excited chatter. Your skin grew cold, goosebumps erupting all over you, and that dread was long gone. It was instead replaced by nausea.

“He sent everyone something…”

“No,” you heard yourself whisper.

“...a video.”

You turned to her with wide eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. Glancing down, you caught sight of her phone in her hand, and before Kie could stop you, you’d snatched it out of her grip. You moved out of her reach as she extended her arm, desperately trying to protect you, but it was too late.

You felt like you were weighed down by bricks as you stared at the two familiar faces on the screen.

It had to have been taken months ago, during one of the first few times you’d slept with him. You both were in Ward’s bedroom, and you remembered the day all too well, recalling the feel of his palm striking your skin and his voice in your ear before pulling your head down to his lip. Of course, it was that one and not one of the ones where he’d held you down and forced you to take his thrusts.

Your hand was empty, not even realizing when Kie had taken it back, simply staring into space at the memory of what was on that screen.

“Y/N, when my parents find out—and they’re going to find out—they…”

Her words died in the air at the sound of footsteps behind you, and you flinched when you heard a familiar voice call your name. Mrs. Carerra didn’t sound happy, and her expression fared no better when you turned around. You couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over as she gestured for you to follow her further into the back of the restaurant. You knew what was coming, what Kie was trying to prepare you for.

It was what Rafe wanted, after all…and he’d gotten it.

It was hours later when you were sitting with your back against your door, your phone turned off, overwhelmed by the influx of missed calls and messages from your friends. You’d only gotten a glimpse at them before finding your head bent inside of your toilet. Every single one of them bar Kie were shocked, their horror and confusion clear as day through their words. Only Pope had eventually sent a text that asked if you were okay.

…and the truth was that you weren’t.

You were so far from okay.

Rafe had won, he’d gotten exactly what he wanted, and even though Mrs. Carerra had expressed sympathy for your plight—more angry at the situation than anything else—she’d still had no choice but to let you go. Every other business in town valued the Cameron family way too much, and the only place that had been willing to hire you had been swayed by Rafe too in the worst manner possible.

It was well after midnight when your door shook from harsh knocks. You hadn’t moved in hours, just blankly staring at the wall, and you closed your eyes at the sound, positive it was one of your friends. You didn’t have the strength to face them, to answer questions and either break down or pretend you felt far better than you actually did.

You did, however, have the strength to face Rafe, your gaze lifting when his voice met your ears, demanding that you open the door.

His fist was still in the air when you swung it open, looking at him like he was something you’d find on the bottom of your shoes. He looked as put together as ever, completely unfazed by what he’d done. And why wouldn’t he be? This wouldn’t hurt his reputation and success in this town a bit. If nothing else, the video would have even more girls falling at his feet, but for some reason he didn’t seem to want that.

He preferred to force your hand instead.

“What is wrong with you?” you tearfully asked him, throat tight.

He didn’t respond right away, touching his tongue to his lip as his gaze roamed behind you.

“You gonna let me in?”

Your eyes almost popped out of your sockets, and he gave a haughty laugh.

“It’s not like I’ve left you with much of a choice, now, have I?”

He sounded so…proud of himself, and all you could do was cry as he brushed past you. He closed the door for you, noticing that you were struggling to move, and he kept his hand on the wood, his chest grazing your back as he pressed his face into your hair. You heard him deeply inhale, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I told you how this would end,” he whispered. “I gave you a chance to be smart about this.”

You went to move away from him, but his other hand shot out to grip your arm.

“You’re the one who made things way more difficult than they needed to be.” he continued. “We had a good thing going…and then you had to go and get sensitive and sentimental.”

When he forced you to face him, you kept your eyes on the collar of his shirt. The silence stretched as you refused to look at him, and you eventually heard Rafe heave a sigh. He let your arm go, and you watched him reach into his pocket, disappointed but not surprised by the roll of one hundred dollar bills he pulled out. When he straightened, he took your hand and placed the money in your palm, clasping your hands together.

A few more tears escaped when his fingers threaded through yours.

“Do you still feel like fighting this?” he quietly asked. “Let me know, right now, because I have all the time—and money—in the world.”

He slowly pulled you closer.

“You don’t.”

You shakily exhaled, reluctantly lifting your gaze to meet his own. You stared at one another for what felt like too long, and when he leaned in, taking your silence as defeat, you let him kiss you. It was a salty kiss, your own tears mixing in, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, moving his lips against yours with a growing smile. His arm snaked its way around your waist, and the animalistic noise he let out told you just how excited he was to have you back under his thumb.

The couch seemed sufficient enough for him, bringing you both to it as he peeled your clothes off. You shuddered as the air hit your naked skin, thoughtlessly moving closer to his own body heat, and Rafe pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he laid you down. It felt like ages since you’d last slept with him, but you knew that wasn’t why you were trembling.

You were trembling because you finally realized you were sleeping with a monster. Before, Rafe had just been an opportunistic asshole to you. Rich, spoiled, selfish, the list went on, but now he was so much more than that. He was now someone who’d raped you on more than one occasion, and who had proved that he’d do anything to make you completely reliant on no one but him.

How else could he ensure that you’d never leave him? Never have any other choices but him? You’d eventually have to leave Outer Banks one day, you knew that to be true if you ever wanted a life independent of him, but that video could follow you around for the rest of your life, and very probably would.

When Rafe sheathed himself inside of you, stretching you out in a way that was regularly familiar to you, you gasped. The blond wasted no time in adopting a steady pace, fucking you hard against your couch, his fingers pressing into the arm of it. His grunts were soft in your ears, and despite your combined hatred and fear of him, you weren’t able to swallow down the whimpers that escaped your lips too.

You didn’t know what kind of hard on Rafe had for fucking someone he deemed so far beneath him, even more so to go through so much trouble of forcing you right back into his bed. You didn’t understand it one bit, and part of you never wanted to. You didn’t want to understand a thing that went on inside of his head, didn’t want to understand the thought process behind doing what he’d done to you.

His fingers scraped down your thigh before yanking you forward as he sat up some, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you. He was focused on the sight, lips parting as he panted from above you. He didn’t lean back down until your leg was over his shoulder, preventing you from moving much as he used you to chase his high, hips repeatedly curving against yours and forcing you to grip the couch.

“I missed this pussy so much,” he murmured, lips grazing the corner of your mouth as he spoke. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You hadn’t before, but you did, now.

When his hand landed on your throat, it didn’t hurt, but his thumb applied just enough pressure to keep you alert.

“I’ll stop calling your friends dirty Pogues if that makes you feel better,” he whispered, a gentle kiss from his lips to yours. “...but you still belong to me.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks I'm

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brunchable · 1 month ago

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Super Uncle Bucky || Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Pairings: Uncle Bucky Barnes x Auntie reader.

Themes: Chaotic humor, Babysitter Bucky

Summary: Bucky, out of his element, struggles to handle three mischievous kids who put him through a chaotic tea party, leaving him covered in stickers and glitter as you laugh and document his defeat.

A/N: You guys are just eating up my Bucky oneshots with kids so here's another one.

"Yup, that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation. . ."

Bucky stood in the middle of the living room, his once immaculate hair now a wild mess of tangled locks. His shirt was soaked, clinging uncomfortably to his skin, while toy cars, Legos, and what appeared to be mashed-up cookie crumbs surrounded his feet. His metal arm gleamed brightly in the overhead lights, decorated with an assortment of glittery stickers — unicorns, dinosaurs, and rainbows — courtesy of the tiny hands that had attacked him earlier.

A cacophony of laughter and squeals filled the room as three tiny terrors, dressed in various superhero costumes, ran around him in circles. Bucky’s gaze shifted from one child to the next, his brow furrowed as if he was assessing a battlefield — and, honestly, this might be more dangerous than any fight he’d faced.

One of the kids, Chloe, with braids and sparkling blue eyes, clambered up onto the couch, raising her arms in victory like she’d just conquered Everest.

“You can’t escape, Uncle Bucky!” she declared proudly, giggling uncontrollably as Bucky tried to carefully pick his way through the minefield of toys.

Another child, Chase, with a Captain America shield as big as he was, lunged at Bucky’s leg.

“Gotcha! You’re under arrest for being grumpy!” he shouted, his voice filled with the determination only a five-year-old could muster.

Bucky sighed deeply, glancing at the living room monitor cam with a look that screamed, Send help.

— Two Hours Earlier —

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you asked, hovering by the front door with an amused smile tugging at your lips. “I can always call Nat—”

“I’m fine,” Bucky grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I’ve faced HYDRA agents, alien invasions, and Steve’s 1940s music tastes. I think I can handle a few kids.”

“Three kids,” you corrected with a grin. “Under the age of six. And they all think you’re ‘Super Uncle Bucky.’”

He smirked, crossing his arms confidently. “Piece of cake.”

With a lingering, somewhat skeptical glance, you blew him a kiss and slipped out the door, promising to be back in a couple of hours. Bucky watched you leave, his smile fading slightly as a sudden sense of unease crept up his spine.

“They’re just kids,” he muttered to himself. “How bad can it be?”

He turned around—three sets of wide eyes stared up at him, glinting with mischief. The youngest, Charlie, barely two years old, clutched a half-eaten cookie, crumbs tumbling down his chubby cheeks.

“Are you gonna fight monsters with us, Uncle Bucky? OH! Can I make your left arm look pretty?” Chloe asked sweetly, holding up a toy sword.

Bucky blinked, glancing at the sword, the cookie, and the Captain America shield in the Chase's hands.

“Uh...”

“Roar!” Charlie suddenly screeched, charging at his leg.

“Or... tea party?” Chloe suggested, a sparkly tiara slipping over her eyes.

Bucky let out a breath. “Yeah, sure. Tea party sounds—"

Chase threw his shield at Bucky's head with surprising force. “I wanna fight!”

“Tea party!” Chloe insisted.

“Bear hug!” Charlie latched onto Bucky’s leg like a tiny Hulk.

Oh boy.

— Present —

One of the children tugged on his pants, drawing his attention. Bucky looked down to see the youngest of the group — a chubby-cheeked little boy with a tuft of dark hair and bright green eyes, holding up a stuffed bear.

“Bucky bear!” he squealed, thrusting the toy up at Bucky’s face. “Hug!”

“Right, yeah, of course,” Bucky said, gingerly accepting the plush bear and giving it an awkward pat on the head. The boy beamed up at him, seemingly satisfied with Bucky’s less-than-stellar performance.

“Uncle Bucky!” Chloe on the couch shouted, bouncing excitedly. “Can we play tea party now?”

“Uh…” Bucky hesitated, looking around the chaos of the room. “Tea party sounds…calm?”

“Yeah, yeah! But you gotta dress up!” she insisted, hopping off the couch and rummaging through a pink box that looked suspiciously like it belonged in your closet. She pulled out a lacy bonnet and shoved it in Bucky’s direction. “Put this on.”

Before Bucky could even think to protest, the other two kids joined in, eagerly shoving various frilly and sparkly accessories at him. With a resigned sigh, Bucky crouched down, letting the kids pile hats, scarves, and bracelets onto him until he looked like a very unfortunate cross between a Victorian-era duchess and a Mardi Gras parade float.

“Uncle Bucky is so pretty!” Chase declared, clapping his hands in delight.

Bucky glanced at his reflection in the living room mirror, nearly did a double-take, and then grimaced. He looked like a walking nightmare in pink.

Maybe the super-soldier serum could help me survive this, he thought wryly.

“Okay, tea party it is,” he muttered, his dignity hanging by a very thin thread.

— Thirty Minutes Later —

Bucky sat crammed into a child-sized plastic chair, his knees nearly touching his chest, as he held a tiny teacup between his fingers. The kids sat around him in a semi-circle, their eyes bright with excitement.

“Would you like some more tea, Your Highness?” Chloe asked in her best impression of a British accent.

“Yes, thank you,” Bucky said solemnly, holding out his teacup. Chase with the Captain America shield delicately poured imaginary tea from an empty plastic teapot, his face set in serious concentration.

“You know,” Bucky mused, taking a pretend sip, “you kids aren’t so bad.”

That’s when the tea toy kettle started “whistling.”

Confused, Bucky turned his head — and was promptly doused with water as one of the boys squeezed the kettle’s handle, a gleeful grin on his face.

Bucky sputtered, wiping water off his face, and the room fell silent. Three pairs of wide, innocent eyes stared up at him, waiting to see how he would react.

A slow smile spread across his face.

“Oh, you little punks are so going down.”

What followed was a blur of tickle attacks, high-pitched giggles, and Bucky chasing the kids around the room with his “super-speed” (read: exaggerated slow-motion running while the kids darted around him like over-caffeinated squirrels). By the time you returned, Bucky was pinned to the ground by three wriggling bodies, all of them shrieking with laughter.

You leaned against the doorway, raising an eyebrow, trying — and failing — to suppress a grin. “Having fun?”

Bucky looked up at you, his hair sticking up in wild tufts, his face smeared with cookie crumbs, his shirt a sticky mess of juice stains, and his metal arm glinting with a rainbow of unicorn stickers. To top it all off, a frilly pink bonnet sat crookedly on his head, held in place by a giant bow under his chin.

“Oh, you know,” he drawled, deadpan. “Just living the dream.”

You snorted, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You look like you’ve been to war.”

“Worse.” He held up his hands in mock surrender, showing off chipped, glittery nail polish on his fingers. “I’ve been to a tea party.”

You burst into laughter, doubling over as the kids cheered triumphantly. “I’m getting the camera. No way we’re not documenting this.”

“Wait, no—” Bucky tried to stand up, but a small hand grabbed his bonnet’s bow, yanking him back down with surprising force.

“No escape, Uncle Bucky!” Chloe squealed, and the other two chanted, “More tea! More tea!”

Bucky slumped in defeat, sending you a pleading look.

But you were already gone, the sound of your laughter echoing down the hall.

He sighed deeply, glancing at the trio of tiny humans who had somehow become his overlords. Chloe climbed onto his back, using him like a jungle gym. “Uncle Bucky, it’s time for the royal dance now!”

Chase picked up a feathered boa and tossed it around Bucky’s shoulders. “And you have to wear this!”

Bucky sighed, closing his eyes in resignation. “Yeah… maybe I did have it easier fighting HYDRA.”

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seventeenytiny · 10 months ago

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Favorite Place to Cum - Stray Kids

Smut - MDNI

Word Count: 887 Warnings: Smut, marking, Skz are light doms, daddy kink with Lee Know, oral (male receiving) Author's Note: Someone else posted this exact same prompt recently but I promise that I had this in my drafts for a bit and it was purely coincidental that we posted around the same time :)

Bang Chan - Inside

He loves coming inside, why would he pull out when it feels so good to be inside you? He likes to have you at the edge of the bed, your legs wrapped around his waist while he pounds into you. He leans over your body, his broad shoulders protecting you from the world. Chan kisses your face before leaning towards your ear, "Gonna cum in that pretty pussy, okay love?" A simple nod is all he needs before he fills you up with his warm cum.

Lee Know - Face

He loves marking you and using his cum is one way he can do that. He's been fucking you all night, at this point he's already given you several mind-blowing orgasms. After you calm down from your previous high he pulls his cock out of you. "Do me a favor angel, get on your knees and clean off Daddy's cock." Wasting no time, you eagerly take his length into your mouth, using your hands to work what won't fit. His orgasm approaches rapidly, and he pulls out with little warning, painting your face white.

Changbin - Ass

Changbin loves everything a person can like about a good ass. He loves holding it, squeezing it, spanking it, and cumming on it. For these reasons, he often likes to fuck you from behind, he goes hard and fast, loving the way your ass slaps against his pelvis. After what felt like hours of fucking, he could feel his high approaching suddenly as his dick goes in and out of your dripping pussy. The wet sounds of him fucking you are ultimately what puts him over the edge. He pulls out right at the last second, jerking his cock as you feel hot cum spill onto your ass.

Hyunjin - Stomach

Hyunjin loooves panting your tummy white with his cum. He honestly just loves all parts of your body, but your stomach is simply a work of art. He's fucking you missionary, watching how your face contorts with pleasure and how your tits bounce with each thrust. Once he hears you cry out his name while your pussy clenches around his cock it's all over for him. He pulls out hastily, fisting his cock until his cum falls onto your stomach.

Han - Tits

This man loves tits, big or small he wants them all. He has you on your knees in front of him, his hands holding your hair back as you take his length into your mouth. A dildo that he suctioned cupped to the floor fills you nicely as you pleasure Jisung. You start to feel overstimulated, the pleasure from the toy is making it hard for you to focus with your mouth. Your high hits as you ride the toy, juices leaking out of you and spilling onto the floor as you finish Jisung off with your hands. Just the sight of you leaking onto the floor has Jisung cumming all over your chest, some of his cum hitting your chin and dripping to the floor.

Felix - Tits

Another man who is a big fan of tits. Imagine the two of you doing mutual masturbation, sitting across from each other on the bed as both of you focus on the other's body. The way you have your legs wide open in front of him is driving him insane. You take your fingers to spread your pussy for him, slipping a finger in your dripping hole. Felix grunts as he fists his hard cock, the wet sounds of your fingers fucking your pussy is music to his ears. He's going to cum fast and he's going to cum hard. Right before he orgasms he jumps up on top of your body, his legs straddling your torso. He pumps his cock as hot cum falls onto your tits, his eyes half closed from pleasure.

Seungmin - On your pussy

This man loves to pull out right at the very last second and cum right on your pussy. He loves how dominant it makes him feel, it's like he's marking your pussy as his. I imagine he'd like to have you right at the edge of the bed, your legs hanging off as he fucks into you. His thrusts have been fast and harsh all night, and your clit has been abused by him pinching and slapping it. You feel your second orgasm of the night take over you, wrapping your legs around his waist. The feeling of your pussy clenching around him triggers his orgasm as well, he pulls out as soon as the feeling hits. Ropes of his cum cover your pussy, slowly dripping down to the bed.

I.N - Lower back

I think Jeongin would really like fucking his partner doggy style. He loves how your ass slaps against his body with each thrust. Just the sounds that you make while he takes you from behind could have him cumming in an instant. Your moans are hard to muffle even with your face pushed into the bed, the amount of pleasure he is giving you is overwhelming. You cum around his cock, screaming his name, he can't hold back his high anymore at this point. He pulls out, and you feel the warmth of his cum as it coats your lower back, dripping down the side of your body.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz scenarios #lee felix #bang chan #han jisung #lee know #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #kpop smut #skz imagines

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lesservillain · 4 months ago

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best friend!eddie x reader

cw: SMUT, unprotected piv, pregnancy scare, one sided feelings, sort of sad at the end? an: the prequel to baby daddy!eddie but could be read as a stand alone if you wanted wc: 3.4k

A few years ago…

Music played on the stereo in Gareth’s garage, filling the house through the cracked door that connected to the house. The host himself was passed out on his living room couch, the rest of the boys laughing at him for falling asleep. The only ones left at the party were Jeff, Grant, Eddie and you, the few other guests who came to celebrate their graduations left not long ago.

You rolled your eyes as they placed Gareth’s hand in a bowl of water, a prank that one of them heard would make someone piss themselves in their sleep. Instead of taking part in their stupid prank, you chose to help out with cleaning up. Empty beer cans and other snack bags started filling up the trashcan as you made your way around the kitchen.

“What are you in here doing, sweetheart?”

You turn to see Eddie leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, watching you as you pick up more trash.

“Trying to be helpful,” you say, shoving as much trash into the can as you possibly can. Eddie laughs, pushing off from the frame to walk over to you. He grabs the bag from the can and proceeds to tie it. You smile up at him. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” he says after a moment of looking at you. You get an overwhelming feeling of domesticity as you watch Eddie take the bag out the back door. You watch him through the window as he places the bag in the can. Lighting up a cigarette, he waves at you from the cans, and you feel your cheeks grow hot from being caught staring.

Eddie was your best friend. Has been since he moved to Hawkins back in 4th grade. The two of you met after you spent the summer in the trailer park where his uncle and your grandma both live in. You rolled with most of the kids there, but Eddie was like a new toy to you.

He was hard to get out of his shell at first, mostly due to traumas you weren’t aware of at the time. In retrospect, you really pushed him hard, ever persistent in your daily trips to Wayne’s trailer to get him to come out. But when he finally did agree to play with you, the two of you became immediately inseparable.

Everyone always joked about the two of you spending so much time together, laughing at the grossed out reactions the two of you would have at the mention of the two of you getting married one day. If your grandma was still alive, she would probably be distraught knowing that you had a massive crush on anyone other than Eddie.

After replacing the trash bag, you decide to join Eddie outside. The cool air feels amazing on your skin. The boys don’t have a lot of friends outside of each other, but when all of them start drinking and playing games they seem to generate a lot of heat in such a small space.

“Want one?” Eddie asks as you approach, smoke billowing from between his lips. You nod and he pulls out his pack.

“Did you have fun?” You ask as he lights the cigarette for you, your hands brushing as he hands it over. The feeling of your skin touching felt like electricity through your hand.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, taking a drag. “I mean, I think it could have been just the two of us and I would have been happy. I’m just glad to finally not have to go back to that hell hole.”

“I’m happy for you, too,” you smile, taking a step closer to him. “Eddie, you honestly have no idea how proud I am of you. Like, I want to shout from the roof tops that Eddie fucking Munson graduated!”

Eddie giggles at your praise, swaying a bit where he stands from the amount of alcohol he’s consumed tonight. He stretches an arm out and you oblige, accepting his tight embrace. He smells like alcohol, weed, sweat, and notes of cheap cologne that he sprayed on earlier in the evening. It was a bit intoxicating in your current state.

Drinking either made you super friendy or super horny, and tonight you were heading towards the latter.

You would never admit it, but you’d been watching Eddie all night. There was an air about him tonight. Call it confidence or call it something else, but it was something you’d never seen in him before. It’s like he’s gotten a new found sense of life knowing that he was finally free to do whatever he wants in life. There was nothing left to tie him down and he knew it.

And, maybe unfortunately, it was doing something for you. You’d never really thought about Eddie like that before, your long time crush on Steve clouding your mind when it came to paying attention to anyone else. But something has…changed.

And after a shot or two that you took with a few of his friends from theater class (those kids are wild), everything he did just seemed to be doing something for you. You almost fell over when he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his stomach that you’ve seen a thousand times on on display looking extra lean and just…

“Hey, are you okay?”

You instantly went from feeling good to being super aware of the way Eddie’s body was touching you. With the way he was holding you, his hand rested just above your chest, almost resting on your breast. The veins in is hand seemed more prominent, the rings on his fingers suiting his hands well.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, letting go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. When he doesn’t say anything, you slowly turn to look at him. Which was a mistake, because the way he was staring at you took your breath away again. His big brown eyes stared into yours, lidded in a way that made you want to squirm.

“Eddie? Are you good?”

He doesn’t respond, only blinks. His gaze shifts, flickering back and forth between your lips and your eyes and you feel your stomach flip.

This isn’t how best friends look at each other. Friends don't caress your cheek like he does. They don’t pull you in, making your fronts flush with each other. They don’t start to block out the light from the moon as they lean in. Their lips don’t meet yours, and you aren’t supposed to accept it, kissing them back.

But, before you know it, your kiss turns into kisses. Feverish and hungry, tongues dancing in sync like lovers do. You’re not lovers, but you feel that line blurring as your body is being pulled away.

The two of you don’t disconnect until you suddenly stop. Eddie is the first to break off the kiss, reaching behind him to open the doors of his van where he pulls you in. You don’t protest, gladly jumping in and pushing him down so that he lays under you. You can tell by the look on his face he wasn’t expecting it. His eyes watch you as you pull the van doors closed.

Once they click together, everything happens quickly. Rushed touches and clothes flying in every direction, the two of you melt into each other.

Your perched in his lap, breasts are pressed into him with arms wrapped around his neck as you almost eat him alive. His hands rub down the expanse of your back until they land on your ass, palming you underneath your panties as you grind down against him.

Eddie is painfully hard under you. For the brief moment that you looked down at him, you were shocked at the size of the tent in his boxers. It was the one thing about him that you didn’t know anything about after all these years. It sent waves to your core that only made you feel things for him you’d never felt before.

In an attempt to speed things up, you let your hand trail down his chest, his stomach, and down past the hem of his boxers. Your brows shot up when you gripped him, his true size in your hand taking you by surprise.

“Mmmm, shit,” he moans under you, and your breath hitches. You watch him carefully as his face contorts in a way that you’ve never seen; a new side of Eddie that you feel privileged to witness.

And then his his hand is on your head, guiding your mouth up and down on his huge cock. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks with how far down your throat he tries to get you. But you do your best to take it like a champ. Especially with how he praises you.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” The words fall from his lips like flowing water. He lost the barrier to keep his thoughts to himself as soon as you took your bra off. “Please don’t stop.”

How could you possibly deny him? You can’t. You blow him better than you ever have before, until his thighs are clenching around your head. You were fully expecting him to blow his load in your mouth at this point and you would have let him. But he pops you off of him and holds you in his hands until he can catch his breath.

“Eddie, whats wrong?” You ask confused.

“I’m sorry,” he says with heavy breaths, “Didn’t want to waste this chance by cumming too quick.”

Your heart leaped in your chest at his words, insinuating that he wanted more than just a quick bj in the back of his van. You’d never thought you’d be doing this with him, but in your current state Eddie could tell you to kill someone you would without question.

“Okay,” you say with a nod, shifting your body until you were sitting in front of him. There was an awkward pause as the two of you stared at each other. You waited for him to make the next move but it seemed like it was never going to come. You’re sure Eddie is just as wrapped up in the moment as you, so you decide to go ahead and make the next move.

You crawl towards him until you’re sitting just above his lap. His eyes never leave your face, round and in awe of you as you move closer to him. You place a hand on either shoulder and you can feel how tense he is.

“Eddie, are you sure you want to do this?”

He’s frozen for a moment. Until his head begins to nod so quickly he could have given himself brain damage from the speed.

“Yes, yeah, I am. As long as you are…”

“I do, too,” you assure him. You look around the messy interior of his van for a moment before looking back at him. “Do you, um, have a…”

Eddie’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of his head as his face shifts into that of a state of panic. He starts to babble, words incoherent until he’s able to form a sentence.

“I-I-I don’t, um, I don’t have any…condoms.” The last word comes out in a hushed tone, almost ashamed as he admits it.

“Well, shit,” you say, finger coming to tap against your lip as you think. You’d never done it without a condom before, and even if you trusted Eddie, the last thing you two needed was an accident to happen.

“I’m sorry, I just--I’ve never done this, so--”

“Wait, what?” You say, stopping him in his tracks. He looks up at you like he said something wrong and it kills you. “Eddie,” you try and keep your tone as neutral as possible, “Are you…still a virgin?”

Eddie swallows, eyes now looking anywhere but you. Eddie’s never brought up anything about his sex life before to you, but you’d not really been all that open with him for that very reason. But you’d always assumed it was just a mutual respect thing, not that he didn’t have anything to share to begin with.

“It’s okay if you are,” you add, “It doesn’t bother me.”

Eddie looks at you again, though now with cheeks pinker than ever. He sighs, nodding once again, but with less vigor than before.

“Yeah, I’m a…virgin.”

Something inside you flips when you hear him admit it out loud. A giddy feeling inside takes over your thoughts as you come to a realization.

“Do you want me to help you change that?”

You barely recognized your own words, and the look that Eddie gave you told you that it came out just as suggestive as you intended.

“Are you sure?” He stutters out, “I don’t want you to do it because you feel like you have to--”

“Shhh,” you shush him, placing a finger on his lips. “I’m doing this because I want to,” you say, lowering yourself so that the tip of his cock sits right at your entrance. You feel it jump in your hand at the contact. “You just have to say the word.”

Eddie’s eyes are locked where the two of you touch, his breath hitching as your juices coat his thick head.

“Please,” he says, still looking between you. “I want to.”

You smile, a heat taking over your body as you realize what you’re about to do. But, you try not to let the idea of taking your best friends virginity take you out of the moment. You had to be in charge here and you didn’t want to let Eddie down.

Without a second thought, you start to lower yourself down on him. He’s bigger than you’ve been with before, so you take your time to work him in since you didn’t get any prep before hand.

“Wait,” he says suddenly, stopping you just as you get the tip all the way in.

“What, what’s wrong?” You ask, starting to pull off of him. But his hands land on your hips to keep you in place.

“I want to do this. Like, you have no idea how much I want this right now. But, what about the no condom thing?”

You blink, thinking quickly over your options. The two of you are too intoxicated to go and get a condom right now. Plus, he’s already technically inside of you, so what good would one do that pulling out wouldn’t, right?

“Just…when you’re about to cum, just tell me and I’ll get off. Okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you want me to change my mind?”

Eddie mimics zipping his lips, and you roll your eyes at his playfulness.

“Can I continue now?” He nods again, giving you a thumbs up.

You try to get yourself back into the moment by slowly moving up and down, focusing on the feeling of Eddie’s cock inching deeper and deeper inside of you with each movement. Eddie’s head rolls back and you feel his hips bucking subconsciously beneath you.

You decide not to torment him anymore and fully seat yourself in his lap. He bucks forward, face colliding with your chest as he’s taken aback by the feeling.

“You okay?” You say with a giggle, though you’re barely holding back a moan yourself at feeling his cock fully stretching you.

“Mhmm,” he whimpers into your skin, the grip he has on your hips almost bruising.

“Do you want me to give you a minute?”

He shakes his head. “No, please move.”

And so you do. You take your time at first, really to give yourself ample opportunity to prepare to take him at a faster pace. But with the sounds he’s making, you feel yourself getting wet enough that you can bounce yourself on his cock with more ease. He keeps his face burried in your chest as you move up and down on his cock.

Eddie’s hands loosen on your hips and move themselves up your sides until they land on your breasts. He holds them around his face, fondling and groping as they rub against his face. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, licking and teething at it softly, sending little shocks of pleasure through you.

All of the feelings were honestly a lot for you to take in. And the more you looked down at him the quicker your own orgasm was approaching. You let yourself forget about his pleasure for a moment as you chased your own high, fully seating yourself to let the thick patch of hair at his base rub deliciously against your clit. You rolled your hips against him and he whined into your chest.

Suddenly, your vision goes white as you feel yourself cumming on his cock. Your body starts to shake, and you’re pussy spasms around him, coating him in your cum.

“Is that you cumming? Holy fuck, I--”

There wasn’t much time to react as your pussy was suddenly being filled. Eddie’s body tenses under you as you’re only just now coming down from your own high. But when you finally realize what was happening, you jump up as fast as you can, head hitting the top of his van.

“Fuck! Damn it, Eddie!”

He snaps out of his post orgasm bliss and jumps up after you, also hitting his head on the ceiling in the process.

“Shit! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Eddie’s never been more panicked in his life than right now. Not even when he almost got caught by Hopper selling out in the woods. “I can fix this! I-I-I-”

“Eddie, how the hell are you going to fix this? Fuck me, this is my fault. I should have just said no when you said you didn’t have a condom.”

“No, please don’t be mad,” he says, grabbing your arms and giving you the most pathetic, sad look you’ve ever seen.

“Do you have any money?” You ask him after a moment.

“I probably have like $3 to my name right now. Why?”

“Shit, I just paid my car payment so I only have like $10. I was going to say we could run to the pharmacy and get a Plan B.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s like a pill that’s supposed to keep you from getting pregnant. But they’re, like, $20 or something crazy like that.”

“I’ll go to Rick. I can probably get some supply from him and sell it in a couple days.”

“I think it only works like the next day. It’s called the morning after pill for a reason I think.”

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“What about Wayne?”

“I can’t go to Wayne.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t you ask your mom?”

You sigh. He had a point. There was no way you could ask your mom without her asking why. And money was already tight so there wasn’t a good excuse to make up for you needing $20 out of the blue.

“You know what, it’s fine.” You say, convincing yourself that it was. “My period should be coming soon, so I think we’re okay.”

“How soon is soon?” Eddie asks, clearly not convinced.

“Like, in a week and a half? Usually around the beginning of the month.”

Eddie breaths in, then out, head slumping. He drops to his knees before you and you can see his body start to shake.

“Eddie?” You drop down to his level and get a look at his face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and it sent an arrow through your heart to see him so upset.

“I’m so sorry.” His words come out watery, his head starting to shake. “I didn’t want this to be how it happened.”

His words hit you like a truck. Of course he didn’t want his first time to be like this. He probably wanted it to be with someone he loved, not with his friend, and definitely not with the possibility of getting you pregnant.

Guilt washed over you. You should have been the better person and not given in to your sick desire to share something like this with him.

But it’s too late.

You can only hope that this doesn’t ruin your friendship forever.

than you for reading!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #baby daddy!eddie munson x mom!reader #baby daddy!eddie #baby daddy!eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fic

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lowkeyrobin · 3 months ago

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Heyyy hope you’re having a wonderful day! I wanted to request a Sparrow Ben Hargreeves one shot where like Y/N is oblivious to his feelings while he’s trying to drop hints?? (but failing because something always happens)

If not that’s totally fine!!! No pressure :3

oooo okay okay I can definitely try!! ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy 🫶 ; alsonsorry this is so bad idk y I flopped on this 😔

SPARROW! BEN ; damnit

summary ; ben's always being cockblocked

warnings ; language, mentions of alcohol

disclaimers ; takes place post s3 - pre s4

word count ; 881

masterlist

You stand in the kitchen with Luther, making dinner with him for the family. Everyone, aka the Hargreeves and Lila plus their kids, had come over for a little reunion for their birthday. You weren't a Hargreeves, nor did you have powers, but they were your only friends, and they each saved your life at least once.

Ben approaches, leaning on the counter where you chop up some green onions, a pot and pan on the stove behind you.

"Hey" He smiles. "Whatcha up to?"

You shrug. "Chopping up some onions. What's up?"

"Nothing, really. Allison picked out a really dumb movie to watch and I can't stand it anymore" He answers.

You'd tuned out the family in the living room just a few feet away, focused on your meal prepping / creating. You look up at the TV, seeing the family sprawled around the furniture, kids playing with toys on the floor.

"Ben, stop, this movie is so good" You reply, turning back to your cutting board.

"It's some cheesey Hallmark movie?"

"Hush"

The two of you are silent for a moment before he speaks again.

"Your hair looks really nice today-"

"Fuck!"

The siblings quickly shoot up from their spots, Ben jumping a bit as you rush to the stove.

You'd accidently lit the chicken on fire. Somehow.

You quickly slam a lid over the pan of chicken, not wanting to fuel the grease fire any more than you had. You quickly shut off the burner, slowly looking back at Ben.

"Could you go get me more chicken from the store? I'll give you the money, I just need to look over all this stuff, sorry for asking on your birthday-"

"Yeah, sure!" He quickly replies. "Anything for you"

"Hey, Y/n" Ben smiles, "I brought you flowers"

"Awe, thank you!" You reply, accepting the gift as he enters your home.

"I kinda wanted to talk to you about something-"

Your phone rings, the number being the one of your workplace. You grab it, looking to him before accepting the call.

"I gotta take this really quick, sorry"

He nods, watching you trail into the other room, flowers still in hand. He stands by the door, unknowing of what to do in the moment. He soaks up his own silence, listening to your unintelligible speech behind the walls.

You return swiftly, a sorry expression on your face.

"I'm so sorry, Ben, I need to go in, it's urgent. Uhm, we'll talk later, yeah?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry. Be safe"

As he quickly exits your home, he mutters to himself.

"Damnit"

"I dunno, maybe I'm crazy," you chuckle, picking up another piece of food with your fork.

"I don't think you're crazy." Ben shrugs. "I think you're overworked and tired"

You both sit in a booth at a restaurant, a bright light shining over the table, warm food on your plates. You were eating out because you both didn't want to cook dinner at home tonight. Being alone sucked for both of you. If only you both had the balls to talk to each other.

But that's your problem, you oblivious fuck.

You shrug at his response. "I dunno, I think being alone, living alone, is slowly driving me insane."

"I mean, you could live with me," He mumbles, picking at his food.

"Hm?" You hum, having not heard him.

"Oh, nothing"

"...You sure?"

"Yeah"

The silence blankets you once more as you listen to the nearby commotion. The other families eating, the bustling workers, the music over the speakers.

You listened to everything but him, didn't you?

Today was the day. Ben was going to ask you out and he was not going to let himself or anything else get in his way.

Well, maybe red wine ruining his shirt would.

Why did he decide to take you to a bar in the first place is what we're all wondering. It didn't take much for him to get at least buzzed, which was his current state.

You decided to walk him back home, not wanting him to walk in the dark all by his lonesome. The walk is quiet, considering his slightly bruised ego. Jesus, he'd never get the chance to ask you at this point.

He slumps onto his bed as you lead him into his home, yelling into his mattress. You stand behind him, silent, finding this normal, because it was.

"What're you mad about now?" You sigh, throwing a pair of pajamas on him which you'd gotten from his dresser.

"I wanted to ask you out, and I have for a while, and every time I try it gets fucking ruined!" He slurs, yelling into his mattress once more.

You blink, confused. "What?"

"I like you, Y/n, Jesus," He groans, rolling over to look at you.

"Oh"

"'Oh' what?"

"I didn't realize" You shrug.

"I know. That's why I was trying to hint at it and even tell you, but you're oblivious, and things always have to go sideways at the wrong time," Ben speaks.

"I mean, I'd go out with you"

He raises an eyebrow. "Actually?"

"Yeah" You shrug. "Why not?"

"Oh my God, that took the biggest weight off my shoulders." He rolls off the bed on accident, landing on the floor.

You laugh.

"Damnit"

#lowkeyrobin #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #tua x reader #the umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy x reader #sparrow!ben x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #justin min x reader

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agappa · 3 months ago

Text

Bubble bath with reader :

They take that sweet moment to take care of you, having your back pressed against his torso. Some wine placed on the edge of the bathtub, with soft music playing in the background. Either he’s reading a book or just enjoying the silence and intimacy of the moment with you in his arms. Then he carefully rubs your body softly, the both of you sharing slow and sensual caresses. There is no sexual intention, you just want to clean yourselves while relaxing, feeling your muscles loosen up with the warm water. He softly scratches your scalp with his fingertips and shampoo, pampering your neck with light kisses. The both of you take your time to rest from the day, and quietly showing each other how much you’re in love.

-> NANAMI , Megumi, Suguru give that man love :’( , Yuta him too :’( , Xavier, Zayne, Thorfinn, CANUTE, Arthur Morgan, Neuvillette

Most chaotic baths of your life. He just splashes you, there is water everywhere. He grabs your foot and tries to drown you (affectionately), while you struggle to get rid of his grasp and he laughs like crazy. Definitely the type to buy yourselves bath toys that are initially for kids, like the both of you would just play with a little water mill. Or you also play music and the both of you sing, so you make your own concert together. When you finally clean yourselves he has shampoo everywhere, and just screams because it stings his eyes, and now it’s your time to laugh. It’s a really playful moment, where the both of you forget about all the troubles from adulthood. And after, he (more delicately) pats you dry so it’s a bit of a contrast.

-> GOJO, Yuji, TOGE, Rafayel, Tartaglia, ITTO

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bruciemilf · 2 years ago

Text

Having so many de aged! Jason feelings. I might just burst.

Dick and Tim theorize on how a small, happy little baby winded up in Jason's apartment. It's no secret their brother, a wall of bulk with a tender core, houses the homeless sometimes.

Maybe the baby is someone's? But if so, why was he alone? Jason isn't exactly famous for his unquestionable wisdom, but he's too caring to leave a defenceless infant by himself.

More importantly, why is this baby rolling on his tummy on a familiar brown jacket, evidently craving to be picked up?

"Can you take him? I'm not..." Tim's not good with kids; It's a running joke among them. Even If there's nothing comical about this.

Dick nods. His pride does swell when the baby giggles and coos.

"He has good taste."

" Okay, Narcissus. Let's take him home before your head pops,'' was Tim just a tiny bit jealous this little chubby cheeked thing was snuggling close to Dick, while downright glowering at him?

Maybe. A little. But babies were glorified chunks of meat, shaped just enough like a human to be considered cute. What did they know?

So they get home. It's a pleasant rarity, but they're all in one place.

All except Bruce, of course. Too busy bleeding on the streets to spend any time with them, Dick huffs,

Poor Damian is trying to jump and leap amongst them giants, struggling to take a peek at their young guest, " Grayson! I want the baby!"

" He's not a toy, Dami," they all share a silent look, clearly thinking the same thing. He got it from Bruce,

"What does it do?"

" He's a baby, Steph. He's not even aware he exists!"

" God I wish that were me,"

Duke looks at Babybird, as Dick affectionately took to calling him, with a strange, quizzical look, " He looks familiar. You said you found him at Jay's?"

" Yeah, but I'm taking him to a firestation. I just had to show B. You know he likes volunteering at daycares. Maybe he'll recognize him."

" Recognize who?"

Babybird was chewing on his own foot when the elevator doors slid open. Cass wasn't a wordsmith.

She read movements and actions as one listens to music.

Every member of her beloved family was a song of their own; Dick was motivational and calming.

Stephanie was packed with action, brimming with electrifying energy that just made you want to jump.

Tim was clean and precise with accents of pop. Duke was light and happy and silently confident. Damian was angry, and passionate and brave.

Bruce was powerful, sad, and perfectly tragic.

But when Babybird shrieked, yelled out in happiness and excitement and tried to wiggle out of Dick's arms with a sunshine beam and grabby hands?

Her father was a love song.

"Jay," The name sounds like Bruce is choking. His eyes are burning with tears, marching directly to Dick, " Jay? Jay!"

" Wh--"

"Dada!" Babybird, -- Jason? They only now noticed the white curl bouncing on top of his head, ( their inner detectives groan) " Dadadada, pap papi pap,"

They can't do anything, frozen in place, as Bruce spends the following two hours planting a garden of kisses on Jason's cheeks, full with laughter, while they read and color and build blocks.

"Uh, Bruce? I'm...I'm gonna call Zatanna."

" In a minute."

" DAD, --"

" In a minute."

It wasn't just a minute. It was an entire week.

As ridiculous as it was? They were starting to get jealous.

#bruce wayne #de aged #baby jason todd #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #batfamily #batfam #fluff #dc #dc comics #damian very quickly demanding jon to learn how to de age ppl #'baba barely knows we exist anymore! he only cares about that underbaked toddler!'#'dami. try to ask yourself #what would nightwing do?' '' grayson wants to leave him at a nun house!''#bruce ofc babies them as well after dick and damian call him out on it. they get baby jason is the most adorable thing on earth #but they need kisses too damn it!

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 month ago

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hello!!

tw drugs??

i have no idea if you take request for Natasha and daughter reader, but if you do, would you be willing to write about nat finding out the drugs addiction of reader and like the angst of a mother and then like happy ending where nat obviously helps reader to be clean again?

Leave a Light On

Warning: mention of death, past of abuse in the Red Room, substance abuse (drugs, alcohol), laced, drug buying, hallucinations, fighting, physical injuries,

Relationships: Natasha x reader (platonic), Natasha x Maria

Word Count: 4.1K

“Parker,” the boy jumped almost 10 feet in the air at Natasha’s voice. The Black Widow felt terrible for scaring the teen, but your absence worried her more. “Where’s my kid?” He looked at Ned and MJ, a confused expression on his face. As the seconds ticked by, her heart started to beat rapidly. The sound echoed in her ears.

“She’s not with us, Miss. Romanoff,” Peter said. “She said she couldn’t hang out because she was working on a school project.” MJ nodded.

“We haven’t hung out with her outside of school lately,” she said. The Black nodded, thanked the kids, and left them. There wasn’t much she could get out of them regarding your whereabouts. She needed to find you. The lies were stacking up.

I’ll be with Peter. I’m not hungry; I ate before. I’m sorry I’m late; I had to stay after school. Nat, I’m tired. I’m going to turn in early.

Natasha knew it was going to be difficult. She adopted you when she and her sister brought down the Red Room. You were so young when Natasha found you in a room. You looked so small. At that moment, Natasha wasn’t going to let you go.

The Black Widow found Tony in his lap. She grabbed the table from him and threw it onto the couch. “You know normal people say hello when they enter a room.”

“I need you to find my daughter,” he sat up in his chair. “Trace her phone, hack street cameras, anything. Just find her,” she pleaded. Tony nodded without a second thought. Natasha hated showing any weakness and hated asking for help of any kind, but she would do anything to find you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The bass of the music was rattling your bones. The apartment was loud, sweaty, and overcrowded, but you never felt more alive. It reeked of alcohol, weed, and sex. As you stumbled through the party. People’s hands touched your body. Somehow, you got to the small kitchen and found your friend who brought you to this party. She was a sophomore in college, and right now, she had her tongue down some guy’s throat. You laughed and took the spoon out of the juice to fill your cup. Before you could sip the juice, a small shot glass was pushed into your free hand. “Take the shot, Tiny,” Heather yelled in your ear. You smiled at your friend and took the shot. It went down smoothly, and you chased it with your mixed drink. Everyone called you Tiny, from the Avengers, your friends at school, and the people you got high with. It was due to your small stature that kept you alive in the Red Room.

That place haunted your mind and body. There was no peace from the horrors you faced. The only time you felt at peace was when a strong drink was in your hand or a pill that would dissolve on your tongue.

“Here,” the guy Heather was kissing handed you a pill. It was light blue. “Take it,” he encouraged. There was no need for peer pressure. You took it. It tasted like blueberry as it dissolved on your tongue. You were ready for a fun night.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were alone. Somehow, you managed to leave the packed apartment and walk down the stairs. You sat there with your head on the wall while others came and went. No one stopped to see if you were okay. You weren’t. Your head was spinning, and there were a few missing memories. You had a shot, the pill you were given, and your first drink. You weren’t sure what you had after that. You were playing with a ring that rested on your right ring finger. It was a gift from Yelena. A ring that acted as a fidget toy. You could still hear the music from the apartment, but you sang your song.

“Poust vzegda boudyit solnse…” your voice slurred. It was the only light in the Red Room. You remembered your biological mother singing it to you as she held you close. Her soft voice covered the sound of gunshots and screams. Fuck the Red Room. Fuck that miserable place that broke you. Fuck Dreykov. Fuck it. Fuck all of it.

“Dorogoy,” you slowly raised your head. Eyes squinting at the person in front of you. Something was wrong. The stairwell you sat on felt too small - the walls were moving closer and closer to you. You tried to focus on the pattern on the wallpaper - a floral print but the flowers were moving, too. No, they weren’t just moving but blooming, stretching, and twisting, and the petals drifted towards you.

“Tiny,” that voice again called out. You knew that vice. That voice called so much pain and suffering. The voice robbed you and so many girls of their childhood. A hand touched your shoulder.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you slapped the hand away and rushed to your feet. It took a moment for your feet to figure out what you wanted them to do. You stumbled your way down the last few steps and outside. The clear air helped clear your mind. You put your hood up and walked down the sidewalk. Glancing behind your shoulder, there was a car following you. They were going to bring you back. You could hear footsteps behind you.

It was a bad idea to quicken your pace. The mix of drugs and alcohol messed with your coordination. You stumbled, catching yourself on your palms. The pain moved through your arms. Again, you felt hands on you. “Net, net, otoydi (no, no, get off),” you yelled and tried to fight the hands off you. You couldn’t go back there. It would kill you.

“Hey,” the voice was quiet, and the hands left you. “Stop, you are going to hurt yourself.” The world around you started to spin. You couldn’t figure out which way was up or down. Bile began to form in your throat, and you rolled over to your side, throwing up the alcohol in your stomach. Your limbs felt heavy, and you were too weak to stop the hands carefully picking you up. “Poust vzegda boudyit solnse…” the voice whispered. Your head fell heavily against the person’s shoulder, and you drifted asleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When you came to, there was a pounding in your head. Your mouth was dry, and it tasted like the drinks you had the night before. You groaned, and your stomach flipped. “Sweetheart,” Natasha’s voice echoed. Can you open your eyes for me?”

“No,” you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Why is that?” Her voice was soft and loving.

“I’m going to throw up,” Saliva pooled in your mouth. You heard movement and felt something placed on your lap.

“If you are going to be sick, it’s okay,” she ran her through your hair. You shook your head, which was a mistake as your stomach worsened. Being sick was a weakness. You weren’t weak. You were strong. “Come on, Tiny, if it will make you feel better, it’s okay.” You opened your eyes, grabbed the metal bowl, and threw up the contents of your stomach. Natasha robbed soothing circles on your back as you were sick. You slumped back once you were done, all your energy drained from your body.

“That’s probably not the last time you’ll be sick,” you weren’t sure when Helen opened the door and entered. “Your body is trying to expel the laced drugs in your system,” Laced? No, that was impossible. Heather won’t let you take something that was laced. “Do you want me to go over the damage you caused from what you took?” You’ve never seen her this angry at you. When you were first brought to the Tower, she had to give you a health exam. Her touch was so gentle, something you weren’t used to. “You’ll have to go to a rehab program.” It was like ice was injected into your veins. Going to a rehab program meant you had a problem. You were fine. You could stop if you wanted.

“I don’t need rehab,” you told the doctor. “It was a one-off. I’m fine.”

“Helen,” Natasha cut off the doctor before she could say more. “Can you give us a second?” Helen looked between you and the Black Widow. She nodded and closed the door behind her.

“I’m fine, Nat,” you said, playing with the blanket threads. You used it for movie nights and random hangouts around the Tower, a checked pattern of greens and blues. “It won’t happen again.” You saw her nod out of the corner of your eye.

“I believe you,” you slowly looked at her. She was smiling, a kind and bright smile that reminded you of when she saved you from the Red Room. The sirens were blaring, explosions rocked around you, and you smelt of death, but her smile as she held you close made you feel safe. “But if you lose your way, I’ll leave the light on.” You forced a smile.

When you first arrived at the Tower, you were terrified of everyone and everything. The only source of comfort was a small lighthouse nightlight that Natasha had. She gave it to you, and she learned that when you had it on, you needed her—you needed her to keep you safe. As you got used to living out of the Red Room control, you gave it back to her. She kept the light on, a reminder that she was always there.

“Okay,” you said. But you were okay. You had it under control.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You lasted five days, clean of everything, even coffee, but the withdrawal was killing you. You were exhausted, snapped at everyone, and your body hurt. So, you gave in to the things that you knew would help. You bought a pack of cigarettes from Heather. Those helped to get you to 7 days. Until the nicotine couldn’t stop the shakes, you brought a gram of weed from Tyler, your dealer. That got you to 10 days. On the 11th day, you were desperate for it all to stop. Even when you managed to sleep, your mind created nightmares after nightmares. They made you relive your biological mother’s murder over and over again.

You bought something more substantial from Tyler and took it while you walked around the park. When the high hit and you walked back into the Tower, you saw Yelena going through the fridge. Dammit. You wanted to grab a snack and hide in your room until you were sober enough to be around people. “Tiny,” the blonde said. “I am going to make mac and cheese. Do you want some?” You were starving, but it was a bad idea to stay here. However, if you went to your room, it would look more suspicious. Without a word, you sat down at the kitchen island. “How was your day?” Her back was to you when she asked.

“Good,” you said. “We went for a walk,” Yelena placed a bowl before you. It took everything in you not to start giggling, even when you picked up the fork and mixed the hot sauce in the noodles. As you slowly ate, you felt Yelena’s eyes on you.

“Are you high?” She asked. You shook your head.

“Just high on life,” you laughed at your dumb joke. Yelena narrowed her eyes at you. “Damn tough, crowd,” you mumbled and slid off the chair to bring the rest of your food to your room.

“Tiny, get back here and tell me the truth.”

“You aren’t my mom,” you said.

“Then I’ll tell Natasha.”

“She isn’t my fucking mother either,” you regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. Yelena grabbed your shoulder to stop you. It happened on instinct, you dropped your bowl and spun around. You grabbed onto Yelena’s wrist. You only let her go when she yelped in pain. The sound broke through the drug-induced haze in your mind. You dropped her hand.

With wide eyes and your heart beating, you stared at Yelena, who held onto her wrist. You were a monster, just like Dreykov said, just like your mother called you. “It’s okay, Tiny,” Yelena said. “I should not have grabbed you,” you saw the grimace of pain on her face. So you ran. You ran to your room and ignored the call of your name. The drugs in your system made your head feel fuzzy, and you stumbled a few times, but you made it. Slamming the door closed, you locked it and moved your dresser to block yourself in.

You stumbled onto your bed and heard knocking on the door. “Dorogoy,” it was Natasha. “Can you let me in?” You stayed frozen. “I’m not upset, no one is, but I need to know you are safe.”

“I am,” you managed to call out, wanting to give her some peace of mind. “I can’t open the door, Nat. I need a minute.” You heard her sigh.

“Okay, Yelena is fine, and I’m here for you. The light is always on.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You stayed in your room until you knew everyone was asleep. Your stomach ached with hunger, and you were thirsty. The last time you ate was yesterday. You put your dresser back and carefully unlocked the door. You walked into the kitchen on quiet feet but froze when you heard voices. Someone was softly crying, and the other was trying to soothe them. You peeked around the corner and saw it was Maria and Natasha. The Black Widow was the one crying. You pressed your back against the wall and strained your ears.

“Baby, you have to breathe,” you heard Maria say. The relationship between the two was relatively new. It’s so new that Natasha hadn’t told you about it. You only knew that you caught them one night when you snuck back into the Tower after a party. “I know it hurts, but you will make yourself sick.”

“I don’t know how to help her,” Natasha’s voice shook at each word. “I feel the trouble coursing through her veins, but it’s got a hold on her,” you leaned against the wall and closed your eyes. “I can’t lose her. I don’t know what to do,” Maria sighed, and you waited with batted breath and wondered what she would say.

“You can’t help her if she isn’t willing to accept the help,” Maria softly spoke.

“It’s gonna kill her, Ria,” it felt like a snake wrapped around your lungs and squeezed tight. It was impossible to breathe. Even though you were in such a massive space as the Avenger Tower, you felt small. Once again, you ran back to your room to grab your wallet and took the stairs to the back exit of the Tower.

You weren’t sure where you were going. Each step felt heavy with guilt. “Hey, kid,” you looked at a man standing in an alley’s opening. “Want any?” He had a small baggie of pills. Without much thought, you handed him money and took the pills from him.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, walking with your hands in your pockets. If your mind wasn’t on a downward spiral, you knew buying from a random city corner was a bad idea. The pills looked sketchy, and a nagging feeling formed in the back of your skull. You walked down the sidewalk with the pills in your pocket, not able to take them, and stopped at a pay phone.

Fishing some quarters out of your wallet, you dialed Natasha’s phone number by memory and listened to it ring. “Hello?” She answered on the third ring. You were silent. “Who is this?” Even over the phone, you could tell she was still crying.

“Nat,” you answered.

“Hey Tiny, where are you?” You looked at the street corner and rattled off the closest intersection. “Are you on anything?” You closed your eyes and shook your head.

“Just the stuff from this afternoon,” you admitted. “I uh bought stuff, but I haven’t taken it.”

“What do you need?” It felt like the first person to ask you. Everyone thought they knew what you needed; no one asked what you wanted.

“You,” you answered. “Can you pick me up?” You heard her sigh in relief.

“Of course. I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you,” you whispered and hung up. You put your hood up as you felt the first drop of rain. It felt therapeutic as the rain began to pick up, and you waited at the corner for Natasha. Your mind was your worst enemy. Part of you wondered if she could come from you. Maybe you were more trouble than you were worth. You heavily considered taking the pills in your pocket.

But the rain silenced everything. The rain was steady, creating a soothing white noise that confronted you. The drum-like patter of the droplets hitting the roof calmed your racing mind. The water that hit the windows made a rhythmic beat. You loved the sound of cars splashing through the puddles. Your clothes stuck to your skin, and your hair was a mess. Still, you felt at peace. “Sweetheart,” you opened your eyes and saw Natasha standing before you with an umbrella. “Hi.”

She came when you called, and you pulled her into a hug. The hug was bone-crushing, and Natasha hugged you just as tight.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When Natasha’s clothes were drenched like yours, you got into the passenger side, and the Black Widow ran to the driver’s side. She let out a sigh. “I didn’t expect the rain,” she said. “Or I’d bring towels.” You smiled and watched the rain run down the glass. “Do you want to go back to the tower?” She asked.

“I like the rain,” you answered instead. “For once, my mind was quiet,” Natasha said, starting the car and driving. “Where are we going?”

“Trust me,” you nodded. She drove in silence; the only sounds were the rain and the music on the radio. You leaned your head on the window and watched the rain. You picked some droplets, and they raced down the glass.

Finally, Natasha parked in front of an apartment building. “Why are we here?”

“Maria owns an apartment here,” Natasha unbuckled her seat belt. “She likes to have a place away from the craziness.” She turned off the car. “Follow me,” you exited the car and entered the complex. Natasha waved at the doorman and went straight to the elevator. You entered, and the Black Widow pressed the button on the roof. You began to hum the lullaby that your biological mother used to sing. It helped fill the silence. When the doors opened, Natasha grabbed your hand and pulled you to a small covering.

The metal roof over your head protected you from the rain, but it amplified the sound. It echoed slightly, which made it more intense and filled the space with a rich, immersive sound. You closed your eyes and allowed the sound to engulf you. Without opening your eyes, you put your hand in your pocket and handed the colorful pills to Natasha. You felt her take them. “Is Yelena okay?” you finally asked.

“Yeah, she is. Her wrist is just bruised. She’ll be fine tomorrow,” you nodded and opened your eyes, looking down at your feet. A pool of water started to form. “Tell me what’s happening, what’s been on your mind? Lately, you’ve been searching for a darker place to hide and that’s alright,” you looked at Natasha. “But if you carry on abusing, you’ll be robbed from us,” you licked your lips.

“I’m scared,” you admitted. “I’m so scared, Nat because the drugs silence his voice.” You knew she knew who you were talking to without saying his name.

“I know, baby girl, it’s so hard,” she took a few steps to get close to you. “You’ve been so strong, and you can move forward without that stuff.” You weren’t sure if you could. You relied so heavily on it.

“I need help. I can’t do this alone.”

“You aren’t alone. I’m here. I’m right here,” she said as she pulled you into her arms. Your body shook against hers as tears ran down your cheeks.

“I’m scared, mama. I’m so scared,” you whimpered. You were terrified, but you felt somewhat safe in her arms.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

3 Months

Your entire body hurt. There was a pounding in your head; the metallic taste of your blood filled your mouth, and you rested your head on the cool metal of the elevator. Groaning when the elevator stopped and you had to face the music. Your hood was up, and you stepped onto the floor. Glancing up slightly, you saw Maria in the kitchen. At least it wasn’t Natasha. Quietly, you walked to your room. “Hi, Tiny,” you groaned and stopped.

“Hi, Maria. I’m going to go to my room. I have a ton of homework,” you kept your head down.

“Why don’t you have something to eat before you start?”

“Not hungry” was the wrong answer. “I had a late lunch.” It was a half-life. You ate late because you were working on an assignment and hungry. But you needed to clean your face and put on makeup to cover the bruises.

“You know the rules, kid, you need to eat as soon as you get home from school,” God, you hated that rule right now. Bruce and Helen were worried about your weight while going through rehab. So after school, you had to eat a little snack. “Let me make you something,” you knew you weren’t winning this fight. You sat at the kitchen island with your head down and your bag by your feet. “How was school?”

“Good. I have an essay due at the end of the week,” your lip was aching from the repeated hits to the face. Maria placed a plate in front of you. It was a peanut butter sandwich.

“Kid, can you look at me?” You shook your head. “Come on, Tiny.” Sighing, you put your hood down and looked at her. You knew what she was seeing. Your lip was split. There was swelling around your nose, and the cuts on your cheeks were from the rings on Tyler’s hand.

“Don’t tell, Nat,” you broke the silence.

“FRIDAY inform Natasha she is needed in the med bay,” you groaned as Maria grabbed your hand and dragged you down to see Bruce. It was a blur as you sat on a medical bed, and Bruce cleaned and patched up your face. He determined your nose wasn’t broken, and you refused any pain medication. You were afraid to take any drugs as you were three months clean.

By the time Bruce was done, Natasha ran over to you. “Who did this to you?” she asked, gently cupping your face in her hands.

“You should see the other guy,” it was a poor attempt to joke because you couldn’t fight back. Tyler had some of his guys hold your arms. Maria gave you a pointed look over Natasha’s shoulder. “My old dealer,” you told them. “He’s been upset that I haven’t bought from him.” Natasha’s eyes turned stormy, and the look scared you. Maria took a quiet step closer as she saw the look of fear pass through your eyes.

“Names,” she said. Her voice was cold, and a shiver ran down your spine. It reminded you of orders given in the Red Room. You rattled off Tyler’s name and a few others. “I’ll be back.” Her hands left your face, and you felt cold.

“Mama,” you whimpered, and she stopped at the door. Can you stay? I need you to stay.” Everything hurt, and you were so scared you would use to stop it. Natasha’s face softened, and she walked back over to you. She sat down, and you slumped against her.

“I’ll handle it,” Maria said. She kissed Natasha’s cheek, then the top of your head. “Make sure you eat,” she teased. You nodded with a smile. Bruce came back in to give you ice, which Natasha held against your nose. She moved your hair and ran her fingers through it.

“I’m proud of you, dorogoy,” you hummed in question. “You needed something, and you asked for it.”

“You told me that you’ll leave the light on if I lose my way.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x maria hiill #blackhill x reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x daughter! reader

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melathan · 3 months ago

Text

han jisung x camgirl! reader drabble

word count — 1.9k

warnings — NSFW, 18+. needy! jisung, soft dom! reader. mentioned pornography, masturbation + mutual masturbation, praise, toy usage, use of nicknames (babygirl, good boy), light teasing

editor note — first work posted! hope you guys enjoy^^

It’s hard being a talented and hardworking idol year-round, especially when there’s little time to blow off steam. Of course, perhaps his management allowed his group to go out a couple of nights of the year, and let the idols live freely. But for Han Jisung, meeting new people… wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

Well, obviously, he wanted to meet new people. He tried to find friends outside of Stray Kids, he tried to find acquaintances he can fuck around with–

He wanted somebody’s sexual attention.

Sure, rumors went around that his group sometimes mingled sexually. Sure, it may be true. But Jisung wanted to find somebody who would fulfill his erotic fantasies, his strange kinks, his insatiable libido. Especially when out of the 365 days, only a select few would be free to let him do so.

But, of course, his one problem: He can’t socialize with strangers. Talking to his fans was one thing– he just had to say hello, hear them gush about him, say thank you, and wave goodbye. Simple.

Meeting strangers at bars and clubs… what do you mean he had to flirt with somebody who wasn’t a friend?? Twenty-one questions? What’s that? More like twenty-one regrets for following his friends to the loud, crowded club.

Once again, he was curled up in his room as the other members separated and went out on their off night. Once again, he was berating himself for not being sociable.

…Once again, he was humping that same damned pillow.

A breathy curse left his lips, his fingers curling into the sheets as he bucked his hips again. His trusty pillow never failed to satisfy him– but as he continued a pit grew in his stomach. He wanted more. He didn’t just want to be satisfied; he wanted to be pleasured, to be thrown over the edge, to be braindead…

Jisung let out a whine, collapsing on his pillow. A frustrated huff left his lips as he pulled out his phone, opening the PornHub link once again… no, he didn’t feel proud about this. He felt like a sleazy creep who got off watching girls and guys fuck for the camera.

(Sure, he didn’t feel proud, but he certainly didn’t feel guilty.)

Ah. The normal stepcest content. He grumbled, feeling his cock twitch against the pillow. He just found roleplaying erotic and exciting. Realistically, you can film anything, slap down the word ‘roleplay’ and you wouldn’t be questioned in the pornography realm. But to say the least, it worked, so he watched it.

He tapped on the video, setting his head back on the other pillow and situating himself, gripping the base of his cock. It was dark in his room, so the blinding light and loud music of the upcoming ad made him flinch away, squinting his eyes.

Scowling, he tapped furiously on the loading skip button. Another one of those porn Facetime sites.

Do they even work? Could you just sign up, get on call, and masturbate with a hot girl?

He paused, staring at the seizure-inducing ad.

…

It wouldn’t hurt to try, honestly.

His anxiety spiked, but he forced it down. No, he wasn’t going to have small talk. No, he didn’t have to show his face… just his cock. And no, the other girl wouldn’t skip him if he stuttered immensely.

Right?

He sat up in his bed, crossing his legs as he tapped on the ad itself. The normal button to download an app was shown– if he was normal, he would’ve clicked off.

But he didn’t feel like jerking off onto his pillow to some video posted five years ago. His friends were gone and the dorm was empty– he might as well take the chance.

✶ ✶ ✶

“–Babygirl, right? You should totally show me your–”

Skipped.

You sighed, throwing your head back. Another horny teenager. Couldn’t you get somebody somewhat normal?

It was your off day of streaming, simply anonymous on this mutual masturbation app. You counted three teenagers, four people who recognized you, and a troll (although you could admit the guy made you laugh).

The blank screen was loading, finding somebody else for you. Your wand laid between your legs, and you cursed.

Maybe I should give it up–

The screen loaded and you perked up… only to see a ceiling fan. You frowned.

“Hello?”

A small noise came from the other side of the call and the camera shifted. “Uh… hi.”

Great, another teenager?

“If you’re under twenty I am clicking off–”

“Wait!” The camera jolted and a face came into view, his eyes wide with panic.

You sucked in a breath. He was gorgeous.

Soon realizing what he did he yelped and dropped the phone, showing his fan again. “Ah, fuck-!” “What?” You demanded. “No no, show me your face pretty boy.”

He choked. “Pretty boy-?”

“Yes? Or are you camera shy?” You sat back, almost grinning in amusement. While he was too scared to even show his forehead, you had your camera positioned so he could see everything. Crossing your legs, you leaned back even more, relaxed.

The guy whined. Whined. “I, uh… wouldn’t you rather see my d-dick?” “Oh, so you’re direct,” You purred, resting your chin on the back of your hand. “Alright. Do what makes you comfortable.”

There’s a pause on his end, and he lifts his phone to reposition it. The ending scene… oh.

His cock was as pretty as his face. Long, curled, resting on his doughy tummy. The pink mushroom tip glistened in his blue LED room lights, a show of his excitement. His small hand gripped the chubby base, his hand twitching.

“Baby,” You exhaled. “Are you a pornstar?”

The guy choked, his grip tightening. “I– huh? N-no, I’m not!”

You scoffed. “You should be. You’re immaculate.”

“Oh…” Another whine. “Really?”

“Yes! Oh, baby, can you stroke it?” You grab your wand, turning on the lowest setting. The hum of the toy was picked up by the guy, as heard by his bated breath.

“Ok…”

You made sure not to blink as he slowly moved his hand up and down, the veins bulging at the movements. He let out another shuddered breath, his thighs tensing.

“I’ve never… touched myself in front of somebody–” He murmured, his last word hitching. “L-let alone a stranger…”

“So you’re new… alright.” You nodded, grazing your wand on your cunt. You let out a content sigh, brushing it on the lips.

He gulped– it was obvious that his attention was on you, not on his cock. To tease him, you pressed it right on your clit, letting out a soft moan. You could’ve sworn you saw a drop of precum roll down his shaft.

“I’m your first, then,” You grin, the idea making you strangely pleased. “That’s adorable.”

He squeaked. “Really?”

You nodded, increasing the level on the wand. As you tensed up and moaned, he tensed and stuttered his hand on his cock.

“Baby,” You said after a second. “I feel like you're holding back. Relax~”

“Relax,” He huffed, sitting up. “Ok– ok. Um…”

You saw the tension leave his thighs and arms, his body sinking further into the mattress. Grinning, you spread your cunt out further, the slick making it glisten in the low light.

He let out a low groan. “Are you… going to cum?”

“Not yet, baby. But soon.” I nod, spreading my legs further as I increase the intensity. Just watching him– a nervous, adorable stranger– touch himself, made me strangely sensitive.

New turn-on, I guess.

You decide to turn it up yet another level, arching your back and letting out a sultry whine. “Oh~”

“Fuck…” You heard him curse. “Do– do it again. Do that again.”

You wanted to tease him– but with how your lower stomach was tightening, you would only frustrate yourself. Instead, you laid back, tapping your toy on your clit and making yourself twitch and moan.

You heard the sheets rustle on his end as well, and his camera jerked. His phone fell but showed you something that almost made you cum on the spot.

You were able to see his face again, his eyes and nose scrunched up, framed by curly locks of silky brown hair. He was hunched over but it didn’t hide his small waist; it accentuated the curve from his chest to his hip. His honey-toned thighs twitched and shook as he gripped his cock, slick noises echoing in both of your rooms as he jerked off.

“You’re into that?” You moan out; you couldn’t help yourself. “Into my noises? My moans? What if I beg for you, huh?”

He let out a breathless wail, throwing his head back. “Oh god, please–”

He’s the beggar, shit.

“Praise?” You murmured, your soft tone barely heard over his wet cock and your buzzing toy. “Are you a good boy?”

His eyes widened comically, immediately flitting over to you. His movements momentarily stuttered, the pretty tip almost a deep purple.

Gotcha.

“Good boy…” You moaned out, your toy now on the highest setting as you rubbed it frantically on your clit. “You’re such a good boy, such a good boy…”

“Yes-!” He whimpered, his hand almost sliding off his cock with the sheer amount of precum. “Oh fuck, I am~!”

You gripped the toy with both hands, your legs closing over it. “You’re gonna cum? Can you cum for me baby? Cum for me, babygirl–”

The nickname set him off immediately. He let out a loud wail, his hands jerking back as he came. Thick ropes of seed spurted out of the swollen tip, collecting on his tightened stomach. He gripped the sheets under him, his cock twitching as he screwed his eyes shut. “Oh…!”

You came yourself a few seconds after, slick gathering around your hole and dripping into your sheets. You let out a small, humored moan, smiling. “Fuck, baby…”

Coming down from his high, he realized how his phone was situated, allowing you to see his face. But he couldn’t bring himself to fix it, not when he was watching you scoop your cum and slick and lick it off your fingers… his softening cock twitched.

God, he was getting hard again.

You giggled, giving him a lazy grin as you noticed his slack expression. “You like that? Watching me eat my own cum?”

He let out a strangled gasp. “Fuck, I…”

“I like you,” You declared, reaching for the towel and shoving it under you. “You’re willing to stick around?”

Are you kidding? He almost wanted to yell. This was probably the best orgasm he’s had in his life. Letting you skip was almost like letting somebody tease him with dessert and then handing it to somebody completely different. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I– yes,” He choked out, picking up his phone. “What’s your username?”

Slightly taken aback by his sudden directness, you tilted your head. “Oh? Baby, you’re greedy.”

He clenched his jaw. “I want to see you again.”

Maybe he can call you tomorrow. Maybe the following weeks. Maybe you can roleplay with him, satiate his kinks, satisfy his drive. Maybe he can meet you in person and actually fuck you—

Giggling, you buried yourself further into your pillows. “Hm… tempting. Well, baby, you are cute. It would be stupid for me to give you up.”

You spread your legs again, picking up your toy. “But I’ll give it to you later, m'kay? I’m not quite ready to let you sign off just yet…”

08.19.2024

#skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #smut #reader insert #kpop

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electronicbox · 1 year ago

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Baybee, Battery Operated Bike, Kids, LED Light, Bluetooth, Music, Baby Ride on Toy Rechargeable, Battery Bike, Electric Bike, Kids to Drive, 3 to 8 Years, Boys, Girls, (Red)

🏍️★Easy to Ride★ Battery operated bike can shift forward/ backward levels by using a control button. you can control the variable speed of the bike by using the hand accelerator and It comes with training wheels for safe riding

🏍️★Multi Feature Electric Bike★ This Kids bike has an inbuilt music button, working headlight, USB Port, on and off switch, hand accelerator, foot brake and Training Wheels. simply press the Forward-Backward switch then press the accelerator to move with realistic engine sounds are fun and interactive for kids and It gives a realistic driving experience for your kids

🏍️★ Kids Bike with Training Wheels ★ The Electric bike comes with a Training Wheel to keep children's balance and free them from the danger of falling over. The tires come with an anti-skid pattern that can effectively increase the friction with the road surface, allowing kids to ride on various flat surfaces

🏍️★Safe & Durable Material ★ Made of safe environmentally friendly plastic material. This ride-on bike is durable and harmless to the human body. Moreover, it comes with a rechargeable battery and charger adapter, allowing kids to enjoy 40mits of playtime. The charging time is about 8-12 hours each time

🏍️★ Led Headlights for Safe Riding★ Bright LED lights on the headlight to brighten up the dark surroundings for safe driving. It’s cool and realistic look like a real bike can stimulate the interest of children It is a perfect gift for kids and suitable for 2 to 5 years boys girls

🏍️★Assembly Instruction★: The product requires easy self-assembling. Instruction manual provided with the package and comes with a charger, NOTE: THE BATTERY POSITIVE TERMINAL (RED WIRE) IS DISCONNECTED SO WHILE ASSEMBLING THE BIKE CONNECT THE RED WIRE TO BATTERY BEFORE CHARGING

#Baybee #Battery Operated Bike #Kids #LED Light #Bluetooth #Music #Baby Ride on Toy Rechargeable #Battery Bike #Electric Bike #Kids to Drive #3 to 8 Years #Boys #Girls #(Red)

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won4kiss · 2 days ago

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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────I’LL WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE.

(🧺) ── 𝓙EONG JAEHYUN﹙정재현﹚ ꒰ 𝓰. oneshot ៸ fluff ៸ f2l ୨୧ㅤㅤ WARNiNGS : not proofread ៸ kissing ៸ lovesick jae❞ best friend! jaehyun x 𝑓! reader ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ꒰ WC : 2.7K ꒱ SYPNoSiS 𐙚 year by year, moment by moment, growing up with jaehyun has led to the love you’ve been waiting for all along .ᐟ ── LiBRARY

─2005

THE FIRST TIME YOU MEET JEONG JAEHYUN,

you’re both eight years old, and it’s the last day of second grade—it’s one of those annoyingly hot afternoons where the sun is brighter than ever, stretching shadows across the playground.

you’re sitting on the swings, your feet barely brushing the sand, when you notice a boy standing nearby, hesitating, as if unsure whether to approach.

he’s holding a small toy in his hands, a little red car with chipped paint, and he’s staring at it with a furrowed brow.

he finally looks up and meets your gaze, and there’s something curious and open in his eyes.

“hi,” he says, his voice nervous but steady. “i’m jaehyun.”

you tilt your head, watching him, and he gestures to the empty swing beside you. “can i sit?” ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

you nod, and he sits down, gripping the rusty chains of the swing and kicking his feet off the ground in a way that feels awkward, like he’s too big for it already.

for a while, the two of you just sit, listening to the squeak of the swings and the lively chatter of the kids around you.

“i like the swings,” he finally says, his voice quiet. “it feels like i’m flying, like superman.”

you smile, feeling an instant connection to this boy with his shy smile and big dreams. “me too, but batman’s better than superman.”

from that day on, jaehyun becomes a constant in your life.

every day after school, he finds you on the playground, and together, you make up games, share secrets, and talk about everything from your favorite snacks to the names you’d give your future pets.

he tells you he wants to be a singer someday, his face lighting up with excitement, and you tell him that you think he’ll be amazing at it.

─2010

MIDDLE SCHOOL ARRIVES, BRINGING A LOAD OF CHANGE.

suddenly, jaehyun is taller, his voice has deepened, and he’s taken up basketball.

you notice the way people seem to watch him now, like he’s someone worth paying attention to.

but even though he’s growing into himself, becoming the kind of boy who can light up a room, he’s still your best friend.

one autumn afternoon, the two of you are sitting on the grass behind the school, sharing a pack of chips after practice.

the leaves are a vibrant mix of orange and red around you, and the air is crisp, the kind that makes you feel alive.

as you talk, he reaches over and plucks a small wildflower growing in the grass, examining it with a thoughtful expression—without a word, he hands it to you, his cheeks turning pink.

“it reminded me of you,” he says, a little shyly. “small but… strong.”

you take the flower, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest that you can’t quite place your finger on.

you press it between the pages of your notebook that night, letting it dry as a quiet reminder of that moment, a memory of a shift between you, unspoken but deeply felt.

─2014

BY HIGH SCHOOL, JAEHYUN IS SOMEONE EVERYONE NOTICES.

he’s joined the basketball team and fills out his uniform in a way that turns heads—girls pass him notes in class, and he’s always surrounded by people who want to be near him, to bask in his warmth.

but even with all the attention, he never changes around you.

he’s still the boy who waits for you outside your classroom, who finds you in the crowded hallways with an easy smile.

one friday night, there’s a big party, and he convinces you to go with him—the house is filled with people, the music loud and the lights dim.

you feel a little out of place, but jaehyun stays by your side, his arm slung over your shoulder as he introduces you to his friends, laughing and making sure you’re comfortable.

at some point, the noise becomes too much, and you slip outside for a moment to catch your breath.

you’re leaning against the porch railing, looking up at the stars, when you hear footsteps behind you.

“hey,” jaehyun’s voice is soft, and he’s smiling as he joins you, leaning beside you on the railing. “you okay?”

you nod, grateful for the quiet moment away from the crowd. “just needed some air.”

he watches you, his gaze warm. “thanks for coming with me. i know parties aren’t really your thing.”

his words make you feel seen in a way that goes deeper than friendship, and you wonder if he can hear your heart pounding in the stillness.

for a moment, you’re both quiet, the night stretching around you, and you feel a longing settle deep in your chest—a quiet, insistent feeling that you’re almost afraid to acknowledge.

─2016

SENIOR YEAR IS A BITTERSWEET TIME.

the two of you are talking about colleges, dreams, and the future—you’ve applied to different universities, and the thought of not seeing jaehyun every day makes your heart ache.

one afternoon, you’re sitting in the school gym, watching as he practices with the basketball team.

he’s focused, his movements graceful and sure, and you find yourself lost in the sight of him—when practice ends, he jogs over, grinning, his hair damp with sweat.

“thanks for waiting,” he says, a little breathless, he tosses his towel over his shoulder, his smile softening as he looks at you.

“can we go somewhere?” he asks after a moment, his voice quiet.

there’s a vulnerability in his gaze that you rarely see, and you nod, letting him lead you outside.

you end up at the park, the same one where you met years ago.

sitting on the swings, just like you did when you were kids, there’s a feeling of nostalgia between you, a sense that something is ending.

“i’m going to miss this,” he murmurs, his voice soft. he looks at you, his eyes reflecting the sadness in your own.

for a moment, you feel a surge of courage, the desire to tell him everything that’s been building in your heart over the years.

but the words catch in your throat, and instead, you reach over, slipping your hand into his.

“me too,” you whisper.

─2018

UNIVERSITY IS A STRANGE AND LONELY PLACE WITHOUT JAEHYUN.

you both try to stay in touch, texting and calling when you can, but the distance is hard, the busy schedules and new friendships creating gaps that you can’t always bridge.

but you still make time for each other, clinging to the friendship that has been your constant for so long.

one weekend, he comes to visit you—the moment you see him standing outside your dorm, that familiar, warm smile lighting up his face, it feels like coming home.

you spend the day exploring the city, eating at food stalls, wandering through bookstores, laughing and talking like no time has passed at all.

that night, you’re lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling in the dark.

jaehyun is beside you, his breathing steady and soft—you can feel the warmth of his body, the comfort of his presence, and you wonder if he knows how much he means to you.

in the quiet darkness, he reaches over, his hand finding yours. “you’re still my favorite person,” he whispers, his voice carrying a vulnerability that makes your heart ache.

you squeeze his hand, the words catching in your throat. “you’re mine too, jaehyun.”

─2021

NOW TWENTY-FOUR,

you’re both navigating the chaos of post-college life, juggling work, bills, and responsibilities.

jaehyun’s career is taking off, his life filled with new challenges, new dreams.

and though your paths have diverged, you still find time for each other, the bond between you as strong as ever.

one evening, he shows up at your apartment, looking exhausted and worn, the weight of his schedule pressing heavily on his shoulders.

without a word, you pull him inside, letting him sink onto the couch.

you make him tea, sitting beside him as he sips it slowly, his eyes closed in relief. “thanks for this,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “i just… needed a break.”

you reach over, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “you don’t have to do everything alone, jaehyun. i’m here.”

his eyes open, meeting yours, and there’s something deep and raw in his gaze, a quiet acknowledgment of everything you’ve shared over the years.

he reaches for your hand, holding it tightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that feels intimate, grounding.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

and in that moment, you know that no matter where life takes you, he’ll always be a part of your story.

─2023

NOW AT TWENTY-SIX,

you’re both a little older, a little wiser, but still tethered by that bond that has carried you through every stage of life.

you’ve shared dreams, heartaches, and countless memories, and through it all, your feelings for jaehyun have only grown, a quiet love that’s been there all along.

one summer evening, you’re at his apartment, cooking dinner together.

the kitchen is a mess, there’s sauce spilled on the counter, the scent of garlic filling the air.

you’re laughing, both of you a little tipsy, the warmth of the wine making you feel bold.

as you sit down to eat, jaehyun looks at you, his expression serious, his gaze soft and steady.

“there��s something i’ve been meaning to tell you, i’ve been putting it off for about a decade though,” he says jokingly, but you could hear the weight behind his words.

your heart skips a beat, and you meet his gaze, feeling the seriousness of the mood.

“i think… i think i’ve been in love with you for a long time,” he confesses, his voice trembling anxiously. “i didn’t know how to tell you, or even if i should. but i can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

tears fill your eyes as you reach for his hand, your fingers entwining. “i’ve been waiting for you to say that for so so long,” you whisper, your voice heavy with emotion. “i love you too, jaehyun.”

in that moment, every doubt, every fear melts away, leaving only the truth that’s been there all along—he’s the love you’ve been waiting for.

and as he pulls you into his arms, holding you close, you know that you’ve finally made it where you were always meant to be.

─PRESENT DAY

NOW, LYING BESIDE JAEHYUN IN THE EARLY MORNING LIGHT,

you feel the quiet peace that comes from being right where you’re meant to be.

the sunlight filters softly through the blinds, gentle rays fill the room and paints jaehyun’s face in warm, golden light.

his arm is draped over your waist, and you can feel his slow, steady breathing, his warmth seeping into you as he stirs slightly, eyes fluttering open.

he blinks, looking at you with a sleepy smile, the kind that’s just for you, a little private thing that makes your heart swell.

his hair is tousled, his face soft with sleep, and you can’t help but reach up, brushing a strand away from his forehead.

“morning,” he murmurs, his voice thick and a little raspy, but filled with a tenderness that makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

“morning,” you reply, your voice just as soft.

for a moment, you both lie there in comfortable silence, simply watching each other, basking in the warmth of the morning and the quiet intimacy that fills the room.

jaehyun lifts his hand, gently running his thumb over your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours.

“what’s on your mind?” he asks quietly, a faint smile playing on his lips.

you smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you, a joy that’s almost too big for words. “you,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks heat up, even after all these years of knowing him.

his smile widens, a small chuckle escaping as he leans closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss that feels like a promise.

he pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes shining with that familiar, deep affection that has only grown with time.

“i really like that answer,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle murmur that echoes the countless quiet moments you’ve shared over the years.

as you lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you think of everything you’ve been through, every stage of life you’ve faced side by side.

from playgrounds to high school hallways, from late-night calls in college to quiet evenings in the kitchen, your lives have been woven together in a bundle of shared moments, small joys, and unspoken promises.

jaehyun sighs, a contented, happy sound as he pulls you closer, his hand trailing up and down your back in a slow, comforting rhythm.

“i don’t think i ever told you this,” he says, his voice a quiet murmur. “but there was always something about you… from the very beginning. even as kids, i knew that you were going to be someone special to me. someone i couldn’t live without.”

you smile, feeling a lump form in your throat as his words sink in—you reach up, cupping his cheek, brushing your thumb along his jawline.

“i think i always knew, too,” you say softly. “you’ve been my best friend, my constant… and now my love.”

a warmth blooms between you, filling the room with a quiet kind of joy that feels both old and new, a love that’s grown through years of friendship and shared memories.

jaehyun presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as he whispers, “thank you for waiting for me. for always being there.”

you close your eyes, leaning into his touch, your heart swelling with a happiness that feels almost overwhelming.

“you were worth the wait, jaehyun,” you murmur, feeling the truth of those words settle around you like a warm blanket.

the two of you stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, letting the quiet morning stretch around you.

it’s a moment that feels suspended in time, a snapshot of a love that’s been years in the making, built on a foundation of trust and friendship.

eventually, he shifts, pulling you closer, his gaze soft as he studies your face.

“what do you say we make breakfast?” he suggests, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

you laugh, feeling a rush of warmth at the familiar suggestion. “as long as you don’t burn the food this time,” you tease, poking his side.

jaehyun grins, a playful light in his eyes as he sits up, pulling you with him. “no promises,” he says, his laughter filling the room as he pulls you out of bed and leads you to the kitchen, your hands still intertwined.

as you sit down together, sharing a simple breakfast, you realize that this—these quiet, everyday moments—are the ones you’ll cherish the most.

because after all the years of waiting, all the moments of longing and uncertainty, you’ve finally found your way to each other after all your years of knowing him.

jaehyun reaches across the table, his hand finding yours, his fingers warm and steady around yours.

he looks at you, his eyes filled with a quiet, enduring love that speaks of all the years you’ve shared, all the small moments that have led you here.

and in that moment, with his hand in yours and his smile lighting up the room, you know that every second of waiting was worth it.

every second of waiting for his love was worth it.

NOTE. i genuinely enjoyed writing this sm !! i miss my husband already guys this is so horrendous T-T i was listening to we can’t be friends string ver while writing this i’m literally sobbing ☹️

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

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babygorewhore · 3 months ago

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10 things I hate about you series.

Part two

You and Logan locate the rumored dangerous mutant at a night club. And everything goes to hell when he finally sees your powers.

Read part one here.

Warnings! Violence! Blood! Mild angst! No smut yet! Age gap! Reader is late 20s and Logan is late 40s. Slow burn and enemies (?) to lovers. Barely proofread.

“Don’t fucking embarrass me. This is meant to be quick and efficient. In and out.” Logan grunted as you both stepped into the club. Your fingers clutched the inside of his elbow, his dark brown leather jacket crinkling from the pressure as you both walked.

The neon lights, smell of smoke and loud music thumped as you winced from the crowd. Logan bared his teeth at someone who stepped too close and you reached up and smacked him upside the head.

“Stop snarling at people. We’re trying to blend in.” You hissed at him before forcing a charming smile at the server who guided you both to a nearby booth.

“It’s not my fault people don’t know how fucking walk.” He rolled his eyes and plopped down. You sat close with him and he raised an eyebrow.

“Can I get you two started on water along with your drinks?” The waitress asked and you opened your mouth but Logan cut you off.

“Whiskey and apple juice for her.” You stomp his foot with your heeled shoe and clear your throat.

“I’ll have a Long Island iced tea. Thank you.” She walks away and Logan scoffs.

“Figures. You like those pussy little mixed drinks.” You pinch his forearm and he growls, jerking his arm away.

“Stop being a brat!”

“Then stop being an asshole! We’re supposed to be madly in love and married for thirty five years with four sweet beautiful hairy children.”

“In your wildest dreams, girl.” He dug into his pocket to look for a cigar and apparently gave up after a few seconds.

“So, is anyone setting off alarm bells?” You asked him and folded your arms. Your curve hugging red dress was above the knee and you had black heels on. Jewelry gifted by your grandmother years ago hung above your heart and dangled around your wrist.

“Everyone sets off my alarm bells. I don’t trust anyone.”

“Me either. And we don’t even know if this mutant can shape-shift.” You added with a huff. You tilt your head in curiosity when you notice a man lingering in the corner. He seemed…off.

“Yeah, I’ve been eyeing him the whole time.” Logan seemed to read your mind without looking in his direction and you glanced at him. You blink mascara lashes at him. “Then why are we sitting here?”

“Because I don’t want to give away anything yet. You’re free to go sit in the car.” Logan sighed and leaned back against the booth. The waitress came and set both drinks down.

“Thank you,” You both told her as she walked away. You took a sip of your drink as Logan chugged his whiskey in one gulp.

“You ever been on one of these before?” He grunted and you toy with the rings on your fingers.

“Once. With Bobby.” Your hackles raise when he grumbles.

“Mmm yeah. With your little boyfriend. Figures.” You grip your glass harder.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Logan gives you a smirk. Facial hair smoothed over and he adjusts his button down shirt.

“Yeah? Fucker looks at you like a meal when you’re together.”

“And you’re paying attention to how someone looks at me, why?” You counteract and Logan stiffens.

“Forget it. Now, it makes sense why you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Why are you such a fucking dick, Logan? I’ve done nothing to you.” You gritted your teeth, the lingering crush in the background for him as he pushed your buttons.

“I don’t like inexperienced mutants going on missions. Peoples lives are at stake and I don’t want to be responsible for some kid.” He glared, green eyes burning and you leaned in close.

“First of all, I’m not a kid. Second of all, I had a whole life before I showed up at the school. And third, if Professor X didn’t believe I could do this, he wouldn’t have sent me with you.” Logan meets your venom and his nostrils flare.

“Maybe he made a mistake. You haven’t even noticed our guy over there, he’s walking this way. He’s been eye fucking you this whole time. And I don’t like the looks of him.” Instead of raking him across the coals, you plaster on a seductive look when the stranger approaches you.

His entire demeanor is dangerous. You see a long thick knife buried in his pocket. His sharp jaw was clenched and his thin mouth reminded you of a birds beak. It was a complete trap and you felt Logan brace for any sort of battle.

“How about you walk me to the stage?” Logan jerks his head at you with wide eyes as you decide to drink the rest of your alcohol and take the other man’s hand.

“The fuck are you doing?” He whispered and you gave him a look that expressed, ‘Trust me’

“Anything for you, Angel. Doesn’t look like he’s showing you a good time.” You accept his hand and follow him to the middle of the building where people surround the empty stage.

There was a pole but no one was using it. The DJ removed his headset as you climbed up the stairs.

“Hey, looks like we got ourselves a performer tonight! Pick a song, gorgeous! Get everyone started!”

Logan was staring at you with a horrified expression as you curtsied and waved to the people. The man stood by closely, no doubt looking for the exits but he was falling in line perfectly with your last minute plan.

You pick out the song and the intro begins to play. Porn Star Dancing begins to echo and you slowly begin to dance along after making up your own choreography. Your past of gymnastics played a role in your flexibility as you roll your hips before kicking your leg up around the pole and spin.

The party goers soon start chanting the chorus to cheer you on as you climb the pole to the top, your knees locking around the metal and you hold yourself up. You briefly catch Logan pinching his nose in the corner before you slide down and fall to the ground in the splits.

You even surprised yourself with that one considering you hadn’t done it in a decade. You grinned, smiled and waved. The stranger was clapping slowly before he cracked his neck.

“Oh shit.” You felt the impact before you heard it.

The stranger flicked his hand and flames came out in a fury. A fucking pyro. Screaming started as he blasted a tunnel of fire towards the bar and Logan charged towards him with a roar.

The fire mixing with the alcohol, people were screaming and chaos erupted as small explosions brightened the entire building. Your nose burned from the smell of smoke and blood but your focus became razor sharp. Your mind seized the bodies, your hand extending and fingers curling in a fist.

Everyone stopped and hovered. It was painful, the weight burning your muscles and your head throbbed from using so much force but you made yourself remain still.

But Logan was too strong or too adaptable due to his regeneration ability as he broke free of your hold and sunk his claws deep into the belly of the pyro.

The flames were too intense for most people to see the brutality as Logan retracted the claws. Blood soaked the shining material as the other mutants fell to the ground in a heap.

You released the grip you had on everyone, your ability to also read mind came into play as you guided a female to go dial the police.

Logan’s fierce expression locked on you as he panted and kicked the body to the side. “Get everyone the fuck out of here!” He bellowed at the bouncers who weren’t fast enough to react.

You both were silent as you walked to the car hours later. The club was burned but not beyond repair. Ambulances took the injured and removed the body of the mutant. You didn’t dare speak before Logan as you carried your heels and tried to keep up with him.

You opened the passenger door and climbed in. Logan came into the driver side, slamming it so hard you flinched and feared it would crumble.

“You are a fucking telekinetic telepath.” His voice was so low you almost didn’t hear him.

The unspoken part was that it was the same ability as Jean.

“And you didn’t tell me that plan. You just decided to act on your own. And got people hurt.”

Shame ate away at you as you kept quiet.

“You should have just gone back here and let me handle it.” Logan’s temper was flaring.

“So it’s fine for you to do things your way, alone, but I can’t? Got it.”

“You have no fucking idea what you’re doing!” He yelled but you spun around in the passenger seat.

“Yes I fucking do! He would have killed someone if he got them alone! I got him in front of everyone and then he just randomly got brave!”

“Why didn’t you just use your powers in the first place?” Logan’s volume lowered but you couldn’t answer him honestly.

You couldn’t tell him that you kept your ability from him because you knew it would only remind him of the woman he loved. You couldn’t tell him that deep down, you didn’t want to hurt him but he was right.

You fucked up.

“I’m sorry.” You answered quietly and he sniffed.

“We’re going the fuck back and you better have a hell of a better explanation than that.” He went to start the car.

And it didn’t.

Logan rested his forehead on the wheel, trembling with rage and you reached forward. You could try to fix it but he shook his head. “Don’t bother. You’re too drained. Looks like we’re walking or finding a bus or whatever the fuck is around in this god forsaken place. And hopefully your fucking ADHD doesn’t kick in tonight.” Your jaw dropped as he exited the car.

You flew out of the car and trailed after him with bare feet. “First of all, I didn’t have time to grab my medication before we left and how did you even know I had it?” Logan rolled his eyes as his quick pace led you both down the empty road.

“You don’t have to. Be quiet so I can think about finding a ride or staying somewhere. Jesus Christ, where the hell are your shoes?” He stopped short and you scoffed.

“I left my bag at the motel.”

He rubbed his face with both hands. Logan set his hands on his waist briefly before he suddenly hauled you over his shoulder. You squealed and kicked as he started walking again.

“What the hell? I don’t even need shoes!”

“Diseases are real and you have to be alive in order to explain yourself to Charles.” He drawled dryly. His hard muscle dug into your stomach.

“You cannot possibly carry me for long.”

“I have fucking super strength, girl. And besides, I’m tired of slowing down for you.”

You both soon found a bus stop as Logan effortlessly carried you. He put you down as you both settled into the seats of the empty ride. Sleepiness was overtaking you and your eyes shut slowly. What you didn’t realize was that you had started to fall asleep on Logan’s arm.

And he didn’t move you off.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

I couldn’t remember who all to tag but I’m tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @starkeysprincess @taintandviolent @nemesyaaa

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett xmen #logan howlett x fem!reader #Wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x female reader #X-men #x men x reader

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multiwreckedmess · 17 days ago

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Kinktober Day 24

Prompt: Toys Pairing: bestfriend!Bang Chan x fem!reader WC: 4.2k Summary: Your ex was jealous trash. Both you and Chan know it, Chan just didn’t know the extent of it. Now he has something to prove.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Chan or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this.

Additional TW/CW below the cut.

CW/TW: Honestly, pretty vanilla. Pet names used include “babygirl” “princess” and “good girl”. There’s a lot of banter and checking in with consent! Vibrator is used. Chan has a big dick. Reader has femme sex organs.

“I’m sorry-WHAT?” Chan practically yelped, head coming forward and eyes bulging. “Guys are just like that Channie. As soon as I suggest a vib-” “No stop pause, I heard you.” He laughs and rocks back into the couch. “Like you know me, I’m insecure but that's…it’s another level.”

Your cheeks burn. He was right. The entire argument had been childish and should’ve been a red flag. “Well now I’m embarrassed…” you mutter and focus on your drink.

How had you even gotten here? How had the topic drifted so far from how are you doing to who are you doing and how are you doing them? One vague joke about Chan’s computer habits? Tonight was one of the rare nights Chan did not have his eyes glued to his Macbook, his modern day grindstone - opting to replace the mouse with a bottle of light beer (“it's what athletes drink if they are going to have alcohol”) and the small screen with human company. Your company.

The process of getting Chan to drop his work for one night was exhausting. He’d been your best friend for a couple years now, ever since meeting late night in the audio lab in college where he’d been similarly glued to the iMacs until the teaching aid kicked the two of you out. One last edit, one more pass, toggling the mute and unmute of the track feverishly asking “1 or 2” like you were at an eye exam. These were the building blocks of your relationship. It wasn’t until a particularly unseasonably warm night during spring break when you finally saw him step out into the world to eat and drink with the common folk. It was that night, drinking tallboys on the campus quad at 4am, that you’d solidified your friendship.

And still, the topic of sex was never something either of you had brought up.

There were too many other topics. Video games, anime, and of course music. Hours and hours of trading songs back and forth, studying eachother's reactions intently. watching his face light up in surprise and brow furrow into an intense scour were some of the few times you felt uninhibited joy. It was a cute habit he had, looking utterly disgusted when he was deeply into a song. Chan valued most of all your enthusiasm and positivity. Even if a song wasn’t your style, you’d highlight the aspects that you liked with vigor. Childlike exuberance, it’s what he liked most about your reactions. Sharing songs was like sharing your souls. So how had you managed to veer into this new unbroached territory? It wasn’t like you’d never joked about sex. Anyone could tell you though, joking and talking about sex are two very different things. In the process of all of your soul spilling, confessing deep seeded feelings of inescapable loneliness, pondering the crushing finality of the third death (when the world says your name for the last time), and of course the underrated pleasure of a bimbo bop, you’d never really talked about sex. Chan fucked. You assumed as much. You fucked so why wouldn’t he. Chan had even been there for the first moving out breakup you’d ever had to go through. It’s how you ended up as neighbors. The rocky road started with Chan’s offhanded joke about you being easy to please. It was a frequent flier of jokes that he’d rattle off during friendly banter. Normally an eye roller but tonight you took issue. “Tell that to my ex,” you took a swig of cider with a grimace. “...or don’t. He doesn’t need another reason to feel inadequate.” “Inadequate? Bro was like almost 190cm!” Chan laughed. “Yeah, 190cm and humbled by the suggestion of clitoral stimulation.” You said in a deadpan, staring straight forward. Chan nearly projected his beer straight out onto the coffee table in front of him. “What part of that was so funny? Clitoral?” Chan sticks out his tongue. “Not funny just…is that why you two broke up?” You swig and sigh. The details were still fresh in your memory, your last boyfriend. “No. But yes. But no. His inability to make friends with my vibrator was one of MANY issue indicating-”

The rest of the scene played in slow motion for you, his yelp, his laugh. Your cheeks burning as he shook his head back and forth, eyebrow cocked incredulously.

“I’m not like that.” Chin tilted down he looks up at you from under his eyebrows. “Aren’t I a guy?” “All the guys I know are like that, competitive. The viber- it’s, it’s competition.” “Aren’t I a guy?” He repeats again. “Aren’t I competitive?”

In the years you’ve known him, the air has never been this tense. You’ve fought but this didn’t feel like fighting. Chan continues to stare at you, waiting for your answer. You gulp.

“Yes, you are a guy. Yes, you are competitive. Happy? Pleased?”

He smirks and takes another gulp of beer and swallows hard, pretty enough to be a commercial. It made you nervous. You took another sip of cider in silence. “Sex is a team sport anyway. Gotta know your real competition.” Chan states out of nowhere with a wink. You choke on the cider halfway down your throat. Both lungs and cheeks burning you turn to him glaring, “okay Chris. Any other tips for my sex life?” Chan shrugs. Truthfully he never liked your ex. You’d wanted the two of them to get along so badly, you arranged activities for them that you thought they’d bond over and somehow each time it would end in an argument or as your ex would say “it’s just a conversation, babe. We’re having a dialogue. Man to man.” Chan hated the way your ex called you babe. He’d mocked him for weeks after your break up just to see a hint of a smile from behind the clouds of anxiety. He hated how your ex would ignore you, leaving your texts unread and unanswered all night. Most of all Chan hated your excuses for him, the list long and winding. Your patience wears thin waiting for his response and you snap, “how’s your sex life then? Prosperous I hope.”

You didn’t hope.

He takes a measured pause, another swig, and answers, “I tried like…video call sex?” He fumbles for a term he’s forgotten and is unfamiliar with. “I just kept staring at my own dick like ‘what am I doing? This is so inefficient.’ You know?” You can’t help but laugh, “unfortunately I do.” A very Chan thought, weighing the efficiencies of phone sex. “See that’s why tools in the bedroom are friends. Efficiency.” Chan stumbles, visibly seesawing between curiosity and decorum. “So he really never got you off?” “No. yeah. No.” You look anywhere else. “It’s why i prefer…efficiency.” The word efficiency slips from your lips heavily, laden with new meaning. Both of you pause and take swigs of your respective drinks. “Bet I could,” Chan says easily, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Sure,” you shrug back.

At first the words don’t register, what you’ve bet exactly doesn’t hit you. “Okay, so bedroom?” He stands up, placing the empty bottle on your table. He’s so matter of fact it doesn’t hit you. “Bedroom?” You look up at him quizzically. “Or anywhere, if you have something specific in mind.” You tilt your head and squint your eyes further. Chan mimics you, eyes twinkling with glee. “You’ll want towels regardless.”

Oh.

OH.

He bet he could make you cum. Butterflies fill your stomach.

“Chris, you don’t have to- listen no one has really been able to as well as me myself and my trusty vibrator Even then, no towels necessary just wham bam thank you ma’am.” Your tongue and mind are in two different places, mouth working to dissuade him and brain screaming in need. The mischievous expression from his eyes migrates to his lips, “is that a yes?”

“Chan, it's a losing game. I’ve been doing this for-”

“Where’s your spirit of competition?” he laughs and braces himself. “It’s a friendly wager. Worst thing that happens is you don’t cum and I buy you something top shelf.” Your hesitation is visibly killing him, as much as he tries to stay cool, calm, and collected. His leg jostles with anxiety. “It really sounds like a win win for you. Unless you don’t-” “You won’t let this change our friendship right? You can do it and not let that happen?” You purse your lips and exhale, “...promise-”

Chan launches himself at you like an over excited puppy, “yes anything, whatever you want!”

Much like you, your bedroom is not exactly ready for this turn to the night. Chan leans on the doorway as you hastily shove the dirty clothes spilling over the edge of your hamper back under the lid. Your night stand is cluttered with skincare and two vibrators charging in the conspicuously cracked open drawer.

“Don’t say SHIT Chan, “ you whip around, still hunched over with clothes in your fists. “I didn’t think I’d have anyone in here for a while.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a sigh, you can tell he wants to make a joke and is barely holding it in him. Instead he sits on the edge of your queen sized bed, watching you toss clothes from the top of your dresser into the basket and closet according to their relative states of wear. “This won’t count against my time, right?” He tries to joke, you narrow your eyes. “Sheesh. Just get on the bed, okay? You won’t cum if you’re too stressed.” “You’re not going to be able to ANYWAY Chan,” you continue to attempt to neaten your room. “Yeah if you keep cleaning, yeah, I won't. Now get comfy on the bed please!” Chan enthusiastically smacks the mattress. You cock your eyebrow, “make me.” Chan sighs, it’s a simple pair of words, “make me”, and yet they burrow into him. He nods his head and approaches you putting your hips on his shoulder and hoisting you over his back, smacking your ass before setting you down on the bed. “You done being a brat?” You look a little dazed but you stick your tongue out at him. He sighs and goes to your bedside table, grabbing your vibrating wand left charging half out of the drawer. “Chan. CHAN. CHRISTOPHER. That’s CHEATING.” You let him guide your legs outwards, knees pointed up. “Wahhh, it’s been a second since you used my full christian name. ‘S’not cheating, it’s a partnership.” You wail for comic effect. He smiles a small, crooked half smile, “so, you normally get off with all your clothes on?”

“Well, actually, yes?” You shrug, “it’s not much mess anyway so…” “I was hoping to see your pretty cunt but we can start here,” he says, settling into the space between your thighs. Your stomach swooping again. He’d said cunt in front of you before, many times, it wasn’t a shocking word between you. Yet the addition of your…the familiar click of the vibrator interrupts the train of thought. “I’ll admit its easier when i can see the damn thing but-” It doesn’t take much to have your hips winding. Maybe it's the familiar tool being held in an unexpected hand but the vibration feels more intense the second it sits on your mound. You barely manage to catch a burgeoning moan in your chest. Chan scoots closer on the bed, deepening the pressure on your wand. “Can I touch you?” His voice is hoarse. “Over. Yes.” He nods as he leans over you, a strong hand pushing the edge of your bra down in your shirt, letting just the obviously hardened bud slip free. The rough callous of his thumb catches on the cotton threads of your shirt as he rubs over the tender bump. For you, most of the time you just used your vibrator without thinking too much about anything else. Getting off was no frills, all business. Letting him fondle you even over your clothes like horny teens elevated the entire experience. “Howzzat feel?” He grins smugly as you bite the inside of your lower lip. Your eyes flick backwards for a second, momentarily losing the veneer of respectability you clung to so desperately. “I want you to tell me. I need you to tell me.” You collect yourself as much as you can. “Feels real good, okay Chris? Real fucking good.” “What’s your fastest time?” Chan starts pressing the vibrator harder against you before pulling back. It’s a subtle increase and decrease in pressure but enough to get your toes twitching. “God-fuck-Chris- I don’t fucking- I don’t know.” Your breathing staggers. This cocky bastard is really going to make you cum that easily. Shoulder blades drawing down, back arching away from the bed, your vision swims for a second before you calm yourself by sheer force of will. “So stubborn, babygirl!” He cackles. “You don’t wanna let me win this? It’ll feel so good if you just let yourself go. Either way you win, it’s a win-win. Just cum, it’ll feel so good. I promise.” The spring winds again, the promise of pleasure at the other end of the snap. Your chest rises, he gives a small pinch to your taut nipple. A frankly embarrassingly needy whine hums in your nose. “God I wanna be in you so bad right now.” Chan’s earnest confession sends you over the edge. Your legs go numb as your eyeballs roll back in your skull, defense crashing down as the stretched spring snaps back. Wall clenching around nothing you can feel wetness bloom in your underwear. “Sssshhit,” you hiss, twitching with aftershocks as you try to catch your breath. You try to hide how your stomach tenses with every exhale. “I was better, right?” He’s smug, you can hear it in the sing-song lilt of his voice. It’s difficult to face him fully with your post orgasm clarity beginning to hit. Peaking through one half cracked eyelid, he’s sitting back on his heels, bulge prominent in his pants. Even with your limited vision it’s hard to miss the throbbing mass. “Different.” Your protracted answer betrays you, unable to trust yourself to keep your tone even and calm. The bed shifts below you. Chan is so close, leaning over you, a whisper away. Mouth just to the side of yours, hovering, just within the turn of your head. “Wanna bet? I bet you’re fucking soaked right now.” Kiss me. Touch me. Kiss now. Touch me please. Kiss, touch, fuck, kiss, kiss, kiss, kisskisskisskiss. Your brain is chanting out of your skull, body heating up from the microscopic excited vibrations you’re trying your best to hold deep in your core. “Ha,” you more bleat than laugh. Very uncool. Wheezy airy wanting air escaping from your lungs rather than the even keel chuckle of someone who totally didn’t want to their best friend to fuck their brains out. Chan’s hand, long having dropped the vibrator, grazes your waistband. “You can tell me to stop if you want me to. But I bet you don’t want me to.” Your breath hitches as they catch and slide over the slick fabric of your underwear. His fingers are more precise than the wand and the already sensitive area is swollen. The sticky remnants of your orgasm cling as he too casually runs a finger along your slit. You hold your breath and curl your toes. “Do you want me to?” Chan smirks down at you. You shake your head no. “Is that a ‘no, keep going’ or a ‘no, please stop?’” Deep breath in. “Keep going.” He smiles, increasing the pressure he’s using to rub your clit with. “Good girl,” he whispers, chest practically touching yours. You can feel the corners of his mouth twitch upwards as you try to hide your gasp of delight. Laughing, he kisses your cheek. “I knew you’d have a praise kink.” “You’re so fucking cocky.” Chan shuffles himself off of you. “I’m confident in what I’m confident in,” he shrugs before tugging your pants down over your hips.. “Now babygirl, show me that cute cunt of yours.” Chan is stupidly strong as he yanks your legs free. The slight rise and fall of your chests less from strain and more from anticipation. Something neither of you had really dared to entertain falling so easily into place. “Let me see yours first,” you blurt as heat flashes through you. Brow knitting and shaking his head in confusion, Chan shrugs, “fair enough.” You’re going to see it. After all these years you’re going to finally see his dick. It’ll be right there, confronting you. You think about all the things you know about your best friend, the blue veins that peak up his vline, his big feet, the foreboding lump in his pants. He’s not a tall guy but that doesn’t mean much in your estimation of him. Black jeans, black underwear hugging his thighs. You take a deep breath, blinking, turning more and more into squeezing your eyes shut. “Take off your shirt.” Your voice sounds pinched and you’re barely peeking out from between your eyelashes. Chan isn’t one to flinch at the request, shucking his top in a flash. “I thought you wanted me to go first.” “I do! I do. I just can’t help but think that everything is going to change after this. Like, we can’t go back from this. And I get scared.” “I’ll still love you regardless. And if you wanna stop or nah-” “You’re such a sentimental bastard. Take your cock out, I’m ready.” He laughs, eyebrows rocketing towards his hairline, a bemused grin creeping slowly into the corners of his mouth. Thumbs hooked on the waistband of his underwear he pulls it down agonizingly slowly, eyes locked on your face. The way your face shifts between excitement and dread is endearing. Truthfully he wanted to prolong the anticipation just to watch you squirm for him, the butterflies invading your gut and making themselves known adorably. The band crosses over his pubic bone to territory you’d yet seen, neatly trimmed dark hair surrounding the base of his cock. You let out a tiny involuntary yelp. Neatly trimmed. Thick. Without all of it being revealed you can already tell its hefty. Veins throb, crossing over the pulsing muscle. A challenge for sure. The shear weighty bounce of it as the enormity of it is revealed is daunting, enough to make any person feel virginal again. “I’m confident in what I’m confident in,” Chan repeats, languidly fisting his cock to full mast. It’s too heavy to sit all the way up, instead jutting out from him into the open air. “Now do you want me to fuck you with your underwear on or-” pausing for you to interject before he pulls your hips up onto his thighs. A thousand butterflies burst into flames in your chest watching him kiss your knees as he removes your panties. “Why are you being so tender with me oh my god!” Flames tickle the sides of your face as you giggle, flustered. “‘Cuz this is going to sting a bit.”

Oh fuck is that the understatement of the century. You can feel it from the way he rubs the blunt spongy tip of his cock along your folds. From the briefest of catches on your entrance you stiffen below him. Suddenly you’re less nervous about what he thinks of your pussy and more that he’ll not be able to fit. Lodging himself there at the precipice of heaven, he leans back over, resting himself on his forearms to keep himself from completely covering you.

“It’ll fit, right?” You ask with a hopeful sniff.

“Oh babe, I can make it fit, don’t worry about that. Just let me take care of it.” Chan angles his hips and lets his shaft glide over your slit. It’s a bundle of muscle you can’t resist grinding against. His forehead rests against your shoulder, his breath soaking into your shirt as he occasionally presses a chaste kiss to your neck.

Your breasts practically ache for his touch, having felt it muted through the fabric of that same stupid shirt. With an annoyed grunt you struggle to strip it off at first, caged underneath Chan. Its not until he snakes an arm beneath you and lifts your torso that you free yourself of the barrier. Almost as impressive as his feat of strength is the dexterity with which he unclasps your bra. A pang of jealousy echos in your chest, he’s had practice. As if it should really matter to you, if anything it’s only prepared him for this moment.

His lips are soft against your skin. Every kiss is a small promise of pleasure and harbinger of anticipation as they draw closer and closer to your hardened nipples. “Please, please, please,” you chant in barely a whisper as your back arches to meet him.

“You want this, right?” He feigns innocence as his lips wrap around you, sucking for a second. Your hips buck upwards into Chan’s resistance, grinding harder with a groan of relief. A strand of saliva bridges the gap between your breast and his grin. His hips encourage your redoubled efforts as he goes in for another nibble, teeth just barely tickling over your sensitive area.

Holding tight to his back you try to keep him close as you feel that same growing devouring pit of hungry need consuming your gut. “Don’t stop, please, I’m so fucking close.” It’s not so much dry humping anymore as your sex slides over him, pressure placed perfectly over your clit. “I’ll fucking kill you.” You add for good measure.

His tongue flicks over your nub, hand finally joining to pinch and kneed the other. Chan keeps his hips as steady as he can as you grow erratic, breathlessly using him to get yourself off again. All a part of his plan.

When you cum you sink your nails into his flesh, the muscles of his back valiant against them. The pit doesn’t go away, instead a ravenous beast wakes to fill the void. “I need it. I need you right now.” You reach down between your thighs to wedge him against your entrance again. “Chris please, please.” It’s difficult to bring yourself to say it, even now nearly blacking out with lust. “God please make it fit.”

Grabbing a pillow to pull your hips up on, Chan starts to nudge forward into you. “You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. Slowly your walls open to him, pulling him in as the fat tip of his cock breaches the tight ring of muscle. The extra lubrication of your release helps but the stretch itself has you breathing hard into your diaphragm.

“Chris-Chris- oh fuck- CHAN,” you scramble to hold him tighter as he pulls you apart. Your arms wrap over his shoulders, clinging to your own elbows as you squeeze.

“You’re almost there, my good girl. Best girl.”

“Almost?!” You yelp incredulously. “I’m so fucking full! What the fuck. What the fuck.”

“I can stop-”

You howl with lust filled rage. “Just shove it in oh my god Chris. Just fuck me. Please god I’m going to die.”

Your arms bounce as he chuckles at your overdramatics “Your wish is my command, Princess.” Hands holding your hips steady his hips snap against you easily, fullying burying himself. A mighty gasp caves your abdomen, barely whispering curses as you get exactly what you’d asked for. “Hurts right?” He asks sweetly, kissing your cheek. “Let me help.”

A telltale click.

Whirring.

With the white head of the vibrator placed over your clit the pain vanishes immediately. You blink furiously as the thud of your heartbeat sinks into your cunt. In all your years it hadn’t occurred to you to try this. Penetration wasn’t a necessary part of getting off so why would you? “Oh my god.” Chan smirks. Your hips move of their own accord, rolling just enough to push and pull him against your walls. “Oh my god it feels so good.” “Yeah you do babygirl.” Your walls clench around him as your head is thrown back in delicious pleasure. Chan indulges in the easily accessible skin of your chest, kissing slowly between your breasts as he helps bounce you on his cock. Orgasms roll easily into each other like a pleasant summer breeze warmly surrounding your skin and blending into the universe. It’s hard to tell where one ends and the next begins. Your bodies fit together with ease now, coated in a sheen of comingled fluids. For a moment you feel complete, your mind dulled enough to keep the buzz of thoughts finally silent, relinquishing yourself to waves of pleasure. Chan smiles, looking at your transformed face, slack jawed in open mouthed bliss. A breath kicks your stomach in as you cum on him again, walls squeezing him desperately. “I’m going to-” he chokes on his words as he fights his own finish. “Wh-” Chan can’t even get the word out before you’re clinging to him again, rutting and fucking him into you. Weaving your fingers up through the hair on the back of his head you tug lightly. The buzz of pain jolts his hips deeply into you, painting your walls deeply with his release. A strangled raspy “shit,” passes his lips before they catch themselves on yours. His cock pulses with refractory releases, your cunt squeezing back in a sympathetic response. Neither of you want to admit you’d really fucked up the friendship.

Sorry the formatting got weird and i’m posting late but uh my other group is having a cb and i’m getting anon hate on main so here we are.

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