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luveline · 7 months

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𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky.

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely.

Total quiet.

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?”

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?”

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?”

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…”

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?”

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.”

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.”

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh.

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated.

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry.

“Spencer?” you ask quietly.

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?”

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?”

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups.

“Where are you?”

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him.

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.”

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?”

“Where was I?”

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed.

“Still where?”

“Did you hit your head?”

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.”

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk.

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.”

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.”

“…What?”

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.”

“I annoy people.”

“You don’t annoy me.”

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here.

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?”

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection.

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?”

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly.

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?”

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.”

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says.

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room.

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark.

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly.

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!”

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer.

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask.

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again.

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.”

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath.

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers.

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year.

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.”

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.”

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.”

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!”

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity.

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek.

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.”

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly.

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says.

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway.

“I don’t want to be alone forever.”

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates?

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess.

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.”

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol.

“She kind of looked like you.”

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.”

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.”

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says.

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”

“Is that why you make all your jokes?”

“What jokes, babe?”

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.”

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?”

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.”

“Spencer, you remember everything.”

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.”

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him.

You’re happy to.

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled.

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse.

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully.

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally.

“Can I come home with you?” he asks.

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.”

— —

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.”

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.”

“So you want three?”

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.”

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time.

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?”

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him.

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory.

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that.

The avocado is making him feel sick.

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?”

“I think I'm gonna throw up.”

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes.

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button.

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.”

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.”

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.”

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now.

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said.

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say.

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again.

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.”

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do.

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask.

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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augustinewrites · 1 year

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“oh, you poor thing…” you murmur, stroking megumi’s hair. he’d been caught in the rain during the walk home yesterday, and had come down with a bit of a cold. the seven year old is curled up next to you on the couch, his head resting in your lap.

you glare at satoru when he scoffs from his end of the couch, the tip of his nose rosy and dripping with snot. “i was caught in the rain too, you know.”

“take some nyquil.”

you don’t even bother to spare his suffering a glance.

“can i have hot chocolate?” the little brat asks, his request followed by a weak cough. “my throat hurts.”

it’s almost ten in the evening, and the kid’s already brushed his teeth. there’s no way you’d say yes—

“of course! i’ll make some for your sister too.”

satoru’s mouth falls open - because he can’t breathe through his nose and because he’s shocked. “can i have some too?”

“i’ll make you tea with lemon and ginger,” you reply, carefully adjusting megumi on the couch as you get up. you even steal his blanket, draping it over the kid’s curled up form.

megumi peeks one eye open as soon as you leave, and satoru swears the smirk that follows is directed at him.

people have told him that kids are supposed to be gifts. but later - when he’s watching a lame documentary and choking down some bitter lemon ginger tea as megumi is spoiled with sips of chocolately heaven - he thinks they must mean gifts from hell.

_____

your lips are brushing over satoru’s collarbone when he wonders if he’d locked the bedroom door.

but then you bite and all his concerns go out the window.

your breath is hot against his skin, picking up when his hands grip your waist. chests rising and falling, the two of you love in sync. slow, deep kisses are exchanged in time with gentle grinds—

“i’m hungry.”

it makes satoru startle, banging his head against the headboard as you sit up, stuttering as you both turn to face the doorway.

“megumi,” you gasp. “how long have you been standing there?”

the blush colouring his cheeks is answer enough.

“i’ll make you something to eat,” you offer, leaving your boyfriend with a very unfortunate situation as you climb off his lap, shooting an apologetic look over your shoulder as you herd megumi out of the room.

satoru swears the kid shoots him a smug grin over his shoulder.

this, he thinks glumly as he heads to the bathroom to try and calm himself down. this is why he needs to stop doing nice things.

_____

exhausted can’t even begin to describe the way satoru feels after a long day of bugging nanami and exorcising curses.

he’s practically dragging his body through the apartment towards the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to strip out of his uniform and fall into bed next to you.

but he can’t, because the first thing he sees when he opens the bedroom door is megumi hogging his side of the bed.

you press your index finger to your lips as soon as satoru opens his mouth to protest. “tsumiki’s at a sleepover,” you explain.

“so? i’ll carry him back to his room—”

you make a noise if protest, waving his hands away as you whisper, “it’s his first night here without her.”

hands on his hips, satoru examines the very little free space left on the bed. “so that means you’d let me sleep on the couch?”

he doesn’t like sleeping alone. hasn’t liked it ever since you’d moved in and he’d decided he liked waking to the warmth of your body next to his.

“well, you could sleep in megumi’s bed.”

“or you could wake him up,” he counters loudly on purpose, earning a shush and a glare from you in answer.

“this is a good thing,” you insist once you’ve ensured the kid’s still asleep. “it means he trusts us!”

“but i’m tired,” he whines, even stamping his foot a little for emphasis. “i wanna cuddle with you.”

“fine,” you relent with a little sigh. “but you have to wake him.”

gleefully, he goes to shake the kid awake. he’s about to do it, but all it takes is one look at the peaceful look settled over that little face. over the year he’d gotten to know megumi, he’s only ever worn a scowl, or a look of general boredom. so to see him like this, finally settled into the household…

it’s enough to make the sorcerer smile, even as he sets up the makeshift bed of blankets on the bedroom floor.

_____

“sharing is caring,” satoru proposes the next afternoon at the dinner table. it’s just him and megumi right now, as you’d just left to visit shoko. “so you can cuddle with her on the couch, but the bedroom is all me, got it?”

megumi frowns, staring at the list (can he even read yet? gojo has no idea) “but what about movie night?”

“fine, but only for a little bit. after that she’s all mine.”

he takes the kids shrug as agreement and moves on.

“knocking,” he starts with the utmost seriousness. “is a very important thing to do when any door is closed. and next time tsumiki is out, you’re the one sleeping on the floor.”

(they both know that’s not going to happen, but it doesn’t hurt to try.)

once the terms of their deal are finalized, they shake on it.

“so we’ve come to an understanding, good. because i’d rather have you as my bro than my foe,” he says, dragging the edge of his thumbnail across his throat for emphasis.

megumi rolls his eyes before sauntering off to his bedroom, and satoru sighs, letting his forehead hit the tabletop with a dull thud.

he’d fought off suitors vying for your attention before, but never one as tough to beat as this one.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

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shomixremix · 7 months

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YOUR DRAGON LOVER ♡︎

i NEED more dragon! zhongli and dragon! neuvillette content, so i decided to make some. hope you lovelies enjoy <3

tags: Zhongli, Neuvillette, dragon! zhongli, dragon! neuvillette, human! female! reader, fluff, cuddling, smut, monster fucking, overstimulation, breeding

-> your life turns upside down once you find out the man you're in love with is a dragon. however, this only betters your relationship in many different aspects, the bedroom being one of them.

reqs open ♡︎ | minors DNI!

-> zhongli

being a mere mortal and dating the rex lapis, morax himself, had it's perks. for example, you had seen for the first time in your life what a dragon looks like up close.

everyone knew the god, skillfully masked as the businessman zhongli, had a dragon form. yet you didn't fully believe that he could transform back and forth between his mythical and human form, no, that was silly! you were too shy, perhaps even to embarrassed, to ask him in the first few months of you two dating wether this was true.

there were signs that the legends were true, of course. the way you would catch him slightly growl at unpleasant strangers in public, the sound coming out unhuman, animalistic even. his teeth were unusually sharp, too. whenever the two of you would find yourself kissing the night away, you'd slide your tounge against his larger fangs, always wondering why they were so pointy.

one day, after about 2 months of your relationship, you had decided to surprise him and make him some dinner before he returns home. you made your way over to his place, sliding the spare key he gave you into the lock and heading inside. to your surprise, someone was there - deep, loud snores were coming from the master bedroom.

"zhongli? love, are you in there?"

your grip tightened on the woolen basket in which you carried your ingredients for the dinner you planned. the snores were very loud and deep, and something about them told you it wasn't your boyfriend making them. the door of his bedroom was slightly open, making you take a little peek.

you're eyes shot up wide open as you saw the creature lounging on morax's bed, stepping back in shock. a mortified look spread on your face as your heart beat loudly against your chest like it wanted to escape. the creature was lizard-like, a dragon perhaps, with a long brownish body and golden scales. in shock, you yelped, which stirred the creature awake.

"z-zhongli..?" you ask, unsure if it was actually the man you love.

"hello, my dearest" he yawned, stretching large paws as he sat up. "what are you doing here?"

completely ignoring his question, you step closer, reaching out your hand to him almost as if you were checking what was before you was real.

"it is me, my love. i did not mean to startle you with my dragon form, you simply caught me off guard"

your hand makes contact with his nuzzle, petting him gently. even though this monstrous creature was certainly frightening, the eyes were like big pools of honey, sweet and warm and inviting.

it was him, you knew in your heart.

♡︎

two years have past and you have gotten more than used to your dragon lover. you didn't just get used to zhongli's dragon form - you loved it. he was so glorious and dignified, proud and gorgeous, yet fuzzy and cute, like a little puppy. anyone else would probably be mortified to be cuddling with a dragon adeptus as powerful as him, but zhongli wasn't a powerful adeptus to you; he was simply your boyfriend.

"awww... do you feel good, Li?" you ask as you pet his head, massaging around his two, golden horns. he awards your actions with a vibrating purr emerging deep from his chest. you were laid on your bed together, enjoying a simple afternoon of cuddles and pets. his much larger, although scaled down, dragon body laid behind you, his underbelly making a perfect headrest for your head.

the adeptus continued purring as you petted him some more, leaving a few kisses along his snout. to think that he looked this scary and mighty but behaved like a kitchen cat...

"i feel as if i'm floating, my dear. you truly know how to care for an old dragon like me.." he sighed, pushing his head in your lap. your plushy, half-exposed thighs made much better of a pillow than any silk one he ever tried, he remarked.

suddenly, you felt a soft sensation on the top of your head. you raise your gaze and realize his fluffy tail tried returning the favor and petting you back. you smile at the feeling, dragging your fingertips from the top of his head down his spine, following the growth of his golden scales. he shivered under your touches, visibly enjoying himself.

"oh, sorry" you mumble, immediately removing your hand from his back, thinking you had done something wrong. even though you were already used to his dragon form, you still hadn't learned by heart where you could touch and where you could not.

he grumbled low as soon as your hands were off his scaly skin, his tail wrapping around your hand and returning it to his spine.

"don't stop" he growled, as if he was desperate for more of your pets, "i have been alive for eons, beloved, and nothing in those few eons has ever felt as good as what you're doing to me. i am a god, my dear, and your touches are my heaven"

♡︎ (NSFW ahead)

one of the best parts of zhongli was his dragon form, you thought. how protecting and caring he was, how soft and affectionate he was, and most importantly, how good he fucked you.

it took a long time for you to get over your embarrassment and ask him to make love while he's in his dragon form. since he's an adeptus, the dragon form was more familiar and comfortable for him than the human form (no matter how good he looked in the human form). besides, the talk around town was that rex lapis' body was anatomically different than a human male one.

as you were now under him, you finally understood what they meant by "different".

"ahh! li! LI! oohhh, archons, please!" you cried in overstimulation as his two cocks filled your holes, each significantly larger than anything of a normal male.

"there aren't any archons here except me, beloved. they can't help you nor grant your wishes, only i can. so why don't you beg your archon, my dear?" the smirk on his snout was almost sadistic as he growled these words in your ear, each followed by a hard thrust. he was big even in his human form, but this was just impossible - he wasn't even halfway in, and you were pretty sure you could feel him in your lungs!

"ahhh! oh, zhongli! z-zhongli! AH! please! rex lapis, ohhh, please! MORAX! MORAX, I NEED YOU!" you cry and writhe under him as he fucks you. it feels so good that you can't help but move around and shake, almost as if the pleasure was too much for you to bare.

"such a good follower... my most devoted follower is asking for me and as your archon, i'll happily answer your call..."

he nipped at your soft body, leaving little bite marks as he went along.

"what is it that you want, my dear?" he asks, splitting you in half with his dicks as you come for the nth time tonight.

"need you... all of you... please, zhongli... ohhhhh, please.."

being consumated by an adeptus was an honor. and being bred by an archon? well, that was just unimaginable. yet here you were, under the geo archon, begging to give him heirs.

"i shall give you what you need, then..." he sighs as he buries his head against your bosom, resting as he suddenly stills and buries his cocks as deep as they could possibly go. he started coming, breeding you until there wasn't a drop of sweet release left in him.

when you finally caught your breath, zhongli curled his long body around your smaller one, soothing you to slumber with his fluffy tail.

you knew at that moment that he'd have to be in his dragon form more often when the two of you are being intimate.

-> neuvillette

finding out your boyfriend of many years was the great hydro dragon came as a surprise. when he told you the secret he's kept for years, you sat in silence, wondering how to process all of this. you felt confused, decieved, and most of all, scared. even though this was still neuvi, your neuvi, he was also the great hydro dragon, a powerful, significant beast.

"i don't want anything to change because of my other form", rasped neuvillette, his poolwater eyes begging for reassurance, "....i hope you know i love you just the same, my love. and i cincerely hope you can forgive me for my lies over the past few years"

you stayed quiet, wondering what you should say. this was definitely not how you imagined this tea in his living room would go.

"can i... see it?"

he blinked once or twice, processing your question silently.

"your dragon form, i mean." you offer him a reassuring smile, as he shakes his head in disbelief.

"if you wish. i don't want to frighten you, mon cherie."

he changes into his dragon form, leaving you breathless. the final result of the whole thing was much less scary than the transformation - watching the man you love grow scales and wings was a stomach-turning experience. finally, the handsome man before you was gone, and a very large dragon appeared.

you stayed quiet, reaching your hands to hold his large nuzzle. he leaned into your touches, closing his eyes as your hands made contact with him.

"hello" you whispered, as if greeting a new person in your life, as if it wasn't someone you loved for the past four years.

"hello, dragon sovereign"

his ears twitched at those words, his spine tingling at the feeling. oh, so he liked being called that.

"hello, mon cherie" he grumbled in return, nuzzling his head against your torso.

"you're beautiful" you whisper in his ear as you pet him gently. "your scales are so pretty, like the ocean... you're one gorgeous dragon, neuvi. there is no reason to hide this side of you."

he smiled warmly, enjoying your warm words and touches.

"why did you hide this from me...?" you ask quietly, scratching his underchin lovingly.

"i was afraid of how you will take it. not many would be okay with having any kind of relations with a dragon", he murmured into your embrace, "let alone romantic ones."

"i don't mind" you humm as you pet him.

"you're not scary at all, love"

♡︎

"how am i not heavy?!" you ask through a chuckle, spread on top of your dragon lover's back as he lounged in his bedroom.

"you weight like a feather, my love. what are you even doing up there, hm?"

you laugh as you play with his mane, twirling it around your fingers and smoothing it out.

"petting my favorite dragon"

"are you implying you know multiple dragons, mon cherie?" he chuckled as well, swaying his body a little and trying to shake your smaller body from his back. finally he shook you off him, your frame losing balance and rolling from your spot on his back. you fell right next to him, and he instantly repositioned his body to hold you.

neuvillette had so much work, always, that all he wanted to do in his free time was lounge and sleep. that's why he repositioned you slightly so you could lay on his arm, covering your body with one of his wings.

"mmm, neuvi..."

it was so sweet and funny to you how he held you. you had read in books and stories that said dragons were hoarders - teriorial animals who'd cherish their treasures and hold them tightly in their nest. which was exactly how neuvillette held you in your bed.

he may have been sleepy - but you weren't; and quite frankly, you were bored. you decided to turn a little more to him, kissing at his chest and underbelly while soothing his wings with your palms.

"how am i supposed to take a nap with you caressing me the way you are, my love?"

"c'mere, neuvi..." you softly murmur, manouvering yourself to sit up, and moving his head to your lap. "there, love, rest there."

and he did, falling asleep peacefully as he was petted in your lap, getting many kisses and praises in your safe arms.

♡︎ (NSFW ahead)

the best part about finally knowing this side of your lover finally happened once he got comfortable showing his dragon form to you. even though you initial reaction was that he's scary, you had second thoughts...

"neuvi, love, i know how uncomfy being in your human form all the time is... you don't have to for me, you know? i don't mind your true form..."

you said as neuvillette laid you down on the soft pillows in his bedroom, shirtlessly towering over you and ready to make love to you like there's no tomorrow.

"no, little one, you don't even know what you're asking for. i'll be too much for you to handle in my dragon form, darling, and i could never put my selfish needs and wishes before your safety"

your hand reaches for his face, gently caressing his cheek with your thumb. you blush at the thought of him taking you in his dragon form - was it wrong for you to think that was kinda hot? many would be disgusted by the idea of being consumated by a beast, yet you loved it; he was your beast, after all.

"please, hydro dragon sovereign...", you whisper as you touch him, "be a little selfish, love. you deserve it. and don't worry about me, i can take it!"

his whole body shudders at the way you said his name, his self control holding on by a thread.

"i love your confidence, mon cherie, you are so adorable. yet, i'm afraid you can't handle all i'm able to give. my whole body is much bigger when i'm a dragon, you know that very well, and i wouldn't be able to fit you.."

your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him so close your noses were touching. he could feel your warm breath on his lips when you whispered:

"i'll make you fit.."

and his self control went flying.

so here you were, hours later, getting fucked into the matress by a large dragon. you lost count on how many times you came, your head hazy from all the pleasure. neuvillette held you in place in a mating press, fucking you like his sole purpose was to breed you. yet, he hasn't come yet, even after hours of your lovemaking.

"mmmphrr... neuvii~ ohhh.. ple- ahhh.."

your moans were uncoherent, your words slurred. at this point, you didn't even know your own name - you only knew his. your boyfriend smirked at the way you whined under him, nuzzling his snout against your neck.

"shhh... you asked for this, little one. now you will take all i'm giving you, hm? you will be good for me?"

"mhmmmm!!" you whine as he fucks you, your vision blurry from all the pleasure. your hands reach for his back, and you start caressing the area around his wings, massaging his back.

"fuck, little one.." he curses as he stills, pushing your legs to your chest and thrusting in you as deep as he'd go. he started coming with a long groan, fucking you through his high with shallow little thrusts, untill your womb was completely filled with his release. you felt full, hazy and warm, and he felt incredible, eyes filled with lust and adoration watching how your stomach bulged with his seed.

one day, he's gonna get your body swollen with more than just sweet release and give you a baby. a beautiful, half-dragon baby.

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swordsandholly · 3 months

Text

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 2: Piercings and Puns

“Pleeaaasse?” Johnny whines, pressing his hands together and giving you the biggest, sparkliest puppy dog look you could imagine.

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Please! My two o’clock cancelled an’ I’m so bored!” He flops over the counter, arms dangling right above the appointment books. You pointedly ignore the size of his biceps.

“I’m not letting you pierce me just because you’re bored.” You scoff. “Now shoo, Simon’s got an appointment coming in soon.”

“But ye barely have any!” He argues. “All I’m askin’ fer is a wee ear. No’ even a nipple!”

A shocked amalgamation of a bark, laugh, and scoff forces it’s way out of you at that. “It’s still a no!”

Johnny groans, but at least moves away from the counter. Unfortunately, he takes the opportunity to circle around behind you, pinching the cartilage of your ear. “C’mon, ol’ righty’s beggin’ fer a conch.”

The intercom buzzes before you can respond. You swat Johnny away with one hand while pressing the speaker button with the other. “Hello?”

“I’ve go’ an appointment with Ghost.” A man’s voice drifts through. You blink dumbly for half a moment. You still haven’t gotten used to Simon’s social media and booking moniker - he doesn’t like giving his real name out much, apparently.

You buzz him in. Johnny is still hanging around the desk even when you leave to get Simon - making your way down the shirt hall to his studio. The large man stands in front of his stencil maker, back turned to you.

You knock on his door frame quietly. “Your guy’s here.”

“Be out in a moment.” He mumbles, focused on whatever he’s doing. You don’t really know the steps by heart, but you do know that there’s something so special about watching artists perform this repetitive song and dance. This rhythm they know by heart. Skilled hands enacting each step with careful precision.

He’s so hard to read. Big and bulky but calm as the night sea. You want him to like you, but you know badgering him certainly won’t get you there. So, you turn on your heal and head back out. When you return to the front, Johnny’s disappeared back into his room.

You suck your teeth and lean back in the desk chair, rolling your earlobe between your thumb and index finger. It’s not a bad offer, really. You only have two earlobe piercings on each side. Wouldn’t hurt to add a helix… you’ve also wanted to get your thirds done for a while. Work your way up. You glance at the clock. Simon won’t be done with his client for at least an hour or so, and you’ve balanced the registers for the moment. Both Kyle and John are out today, so they won’t need anything.

It wouldn’t hurt… well, not metaphorically.

With a sigh you stand, wandering your way to Johnny’s space. The door’s wide open, and his head snaps up the moment you step close like a sixth sense. “Takin’ me up on my offer, bonnie?”

You roll your eyes. “Guess I am.”

“Whit d’ye want?” Johnny practically skips around his station, pulling out wrapped, sanitized tools and placing them on a rolling tray. He pats the center of the padded table in the middle of the room.

“Uh, been wanting to do my thirds for a while.” You shrug. “If you have time for two.”

“Och, I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye, hen.” Johnny grins, pulling up in front of you and grabbing a marker.

He’s so close as he places the marks on your ears, warm fingers feeling for the best spots. A thumb traces the back of your left ear down just to the beginning of your jaw briefly. Fuck, he smells good. Warm musk with hints of citrus around the edges. The way he tucks your hair back, hands framing your face as he lines up the dots, is so oddly intimate compared to the other times you’ve gotten pierced. He chews at his lip in concentration, pulling at the scar on his chin while turning your head back forth a couple times.

“Think I’ve got it.” He grins and steps back. “Have a look.”

You take the mirror, casually checking but not paying too much attention. You trust him to do right by you. “Looks good.”

“A’right. Now the fun part.” He grins, tearing open the pack of tools and a two new needles.

“Is this fun?” You frown, squirming a little at the size of the needle.

“It’s always fun t’poke a pretty girl.”

You roll your eyes, a growing theme between you two it seems. “Oh, you thought that was real clever, didn’t you? Had that in your pocket a while?”

“Why donnae ye reach in an‘ check?” He murmurs, leaning close to clamp your left ear. You’re half tempted to tell him it’s mean to tease a fat girl like this - but you don’t think he means anything like that by it. He’s just a flirt by nature.

Before you can answer, he shoves the needle through your ear. You stiffen, a strained noise bubbling up out of your throat.

Johnny coos as he slips the earring into your ear. “One doon.”

“Uh-huh.” You sniffle. Not that it hurts badly, just a basic physical reaction. Johnny still gives you an empathetic smile.

The second goes quicker, Johnny locked in on his work. It’s interesting, seeing how intense they get. You Is it odd to wish someone would look at you like that? With that much focus and passion?

“There ye go…good girl.” He murmurs in that deep rumble that would have you squirming if you didn’t still have a needle through your ear. “Doin’ so good f’me...”

“You’re a devil, MacTavish.”

Johnny just chuckles, knowing full well exactly what he’s doing. He steps back to look at the final result after slipping the second stud into your ear. They feel hot - like two small ovens on either side of your head.

“If it weren’t for the piercings I’d think ye were blushing, hen.”

“You’re gonna get yourself slapped one of these days.” You scoff, sliding off the table.

“Wouldnnae be the first time.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes for the millionth time.

You grunt, squatting low in an attempt to pick the last of the parlor trash. It’s not that you mind, trash was part of your duties from the start, but holy shit do these boys put bricks in their bins? You’d think tattoos would make light trash. Especially after the sharps are disposed of separately.

“Solid?” Simon appears in the hall, eyes flicking over you. You still can’t tell how he feels about you. Neutral, you suppose. At least that’s all you can glean from behind his seemingly permanent black surgical mask.

“Ya.” You sigh, letting the bag drop and leaning back to stretch. “Just heavy. Swear y’all aren’t throwing rocks in these just to fuck with me?”

You give him a grin. Simon just cocks an eyebrow - exaggerated by the small piercing lining it. You think, maybe the slight shaking of his shoulder is a laugh. In combination won’t he crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Maybe not.

“‘ere.” Simon grunts, closing the short distance between you quickly before snatching up the bag like it weighs almost nothing.

You stutter, following after him toward the back exit. “You don’t have to-“

“Not a problem.” He grunts, tossing the thing over the side of the bin. He quietly leads you back inside, locking the door behind you “Johnny go’ you already?”

When you frown in confusion he points to his ears.

“Oh! Yeah.” You shrug, leading the way back to front desk to finish up your closing duties. “He’s insistent. I’d wanted them for a while anyway so I figured there’s no harm.”

“Give ‘im an inch...” He sighs, pointing to the black bar bridge piercing at the apex of his nose. “Somehow talked me into this shite.”

You tilt your head. “Yeah? I think it suits you.”

It really does. You can’t see most of his nose form under the mask but the arc of it leading up to bridge is strong, the piercing settling into the space nicely.

Simon breaks the silence. “You about done?”

“Almost. Just gotta check the ATM against the book real quick.” You nod.

He stares down at you for a moment, glancing out the semi-opaque window, now black with the night sky. There aren’t many street lamps on this side of town. You can only see a very faint glow from the one down by the car park.

“I’ll wait.” Simon settles his wide frame into Kyle’s usual chair.

“Oh! No you don’t have to! I’m sure you’re tired-“

“Wouldn’t feel right leavin’ you alone in the dark.” He cuts you off.

“It’s not a far walk-“

He scoffs. “Definitely not leaving you to walk alone.”

You sink your teeth into your lip, debating briefly on arguing. Based on his comfortable lean and crossed arms, it’s probably best to just let him walk you home. He looks so wide like that, veins prominent across his forearms. Fuck, you gotta find a boyfriend or booty call or something in this city. Anything to stop the temptation to stare at your hot coworkers.

It doesn’t take long to finish up your final chores. You turn all but one light off, wiring down from the bright overheads glaring at you all day. You glance over at Simon a few times while locking up the ATM, his covered face lit up by the light of his phone.

He leads you out of the shop once you’re finished, locking the door behind you and trying it a couple times to be sure. “Which way?”

“Uh, down here. It’s only twenty minutes.” You murmur, feeling guilty that you’ve kept him out extra late. You shove your hands in your hoodie pockets as you walk, the only sound on the street made up of your footsteps and some distant cars.

“What falls but never gets hurt?” Simon asks suddenly.

You frown. “Huh?”

“What falls but never gets hurt?”

You squint at him, trying to decipher anything from his face in the low light. You get nothing but a calm, warm gaze resting on you.

His eyes crinkle in the corners again. “Rain.”

“Pffft-“ You choke, caught off guard. “That’s such a lame pun.”

“Oh? I’ve got a better one.” Simon says, a smirk in his tone. “Why’d the mother clam scold her children?”

You chew your lip. God, you’re too literal to be clever enough for stupid puns and riddles. It doesn’t help that your head is spinning from this brick shithouse, incredibly attractive and intimidating man spitting popsicle puns at you.

“They were being shellfish.”

“Oh fuck off!” You shove at his arm playfully without thinking. He gives, let’s you push him slightly before you stiffen. “S-sorry! I don’t-“

“Nothin’ to apologize for.” The corners of his eyes crinkle deeper. Yeah, definitely a smile. You answer it with one of your own.

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writingouthere · 7 months

Text

exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.

cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.

Your date was a disappointment.

The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.

"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.

"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.

Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.

Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm her boyfriend."

Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.

Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.

"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.

"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.

"You didn't even meet him."

"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"

You hated that he knew you so well.

"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.

"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."

"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.

"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."

"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.

"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.

"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.

"Where can we talk then?"

"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.

"Then let's go home."

"You mean to your home."

Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.

You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.

"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.

"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.

You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.

"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"

"Princess-"

"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.

"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"

"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."

You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.

"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."

"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.

They taste like cherry chapstick.

His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.

His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.

Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.

"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.

"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.

"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.

"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.

"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."

You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.

"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."

The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.

You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.

Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.

Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?

No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.

"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.

The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.

Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.

"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."

"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.

"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.

"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"

"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."

You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."

Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.

For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.

You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.

"Alright, come then, you've earned it."

With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.

Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.

"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.

Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.

"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."

"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.

You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."

When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.

You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.

"Cozy."

"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.

"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."

The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."

"I did."

He looks at you. "Why?"

"You know why," you say, tired again.

"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."

"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."

"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.

"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"

"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.

"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."

"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"

"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."

There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.

Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."

"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."

"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."

"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."

"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.

"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."

"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."

You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.

"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."

Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"

"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."

"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."

You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.

"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."

"That's asking for a lot from a guy."

"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.

"Bye, Sukuna."

Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.

He leaves without another word.

When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.

----------

It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.

The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?

"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.

"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."

"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.

You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.

"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.

"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."

You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.

"Hey."

"Hey, princess. Bad time?"

"No, just, what do you want?"

"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."

You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?

"What do you want to say?"

"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."

"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.

"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."

You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.

"Uh huh."

"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."

"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.

"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."

"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"

"Why do you talk like such a brat?"

"You know-"

"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.

"So when is this date?"

"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."

"Are you fucking here, you creep?"

"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."

"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.

"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."

"Alright, I'll see you soon."

Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.

But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.

There's another guy that you love.

So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.

Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?

Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk #sukuna

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backwzzds · 10 months

Text

ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren

eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.

thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.

your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.

eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”

you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”

eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”

don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.

but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you

“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.

eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”

it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.

you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.

after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”

with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.

in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?

when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.

with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.

eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”

#lora’s fics! ೄྀ࿐#plug!eren x reader #plug!eren #plug!eren x black reader #plug eren x black reader #plug eren x reader #plug eren #plug eren smut #eren jaeger x black reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #plug!eren smut #aot x black reader #eren jaeger x chubby reader #eren x black reader #eren x chubby reader #aot x chubby reader

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writerpeach · 3 months

Text

Ambrosial: Part Two

IVE Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

9.7k words

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five_1]

---

After leaving Yujin’s bedroom in complete disarray, the shower comes next. Not that it’s going to do anything to keep you clean or quell any other urges.

Normally, you'd keep your fingers buried inside Wonyoung until the hot water runs out, kissing all over that pretty neck. And certainly, you do that—but you spend a little more time appreciating her perfect body under the running water, with a hand between her legs, getting her off more times than she can handle.

Despite that, the shower ends up rather quick, with only enough time to leave her a shaking, whimpering mess from all the merciless overstimulation given, barely able to stay upright on her own two legs when you finish. Once you’re sufficiently refreshed and had enough fun, you head to the kitchen, completely forgetting the mess left on Yujin's sheets, to grab something to replenish the energy you've used up.

The two of you share a bowl of strawberries atop the kitchen island countertop, not bothering to put any clothes back on—because you know where they’ll end right up again.

Wonyoung feeds you a berry, one after the other, before she sucks all the juices off the next one, wanting to demonstrate what she really wishes she was doing to some part of you right now. You can't say you're surprised—because she’ll take every opportunity to turn something innocent into something completely salacious.

Not before long, all the strawberries vanish, leaving you with a lingering hunger for something else. So while you've got Wonyoung here, naked as could be, looking like an absolute meal, you guide her down on the counter, flat on her back, planting kisses all over her slender, bare body.

You’re met with a plethora of gasps and whimpers while you explore her, wet tongue going all over those sensitive nipples until they're left stiff and swollen, chest heaving with every breath. A slight bite here or there, then your kisses trail further down, turning into long licks all over her flat tummy, hungry little swipes to draw out the cutest little moans from her.

“See? Daddy can’t ever get enough of me,” Wonyoung says through her cute gasps, but you don’t give her any acknowledgment, despite how she's got a point. More or less, she’s gotten all of your attention, while you haven’t had so much as a thought about Yujin in these past few hours.

“It’s not my fault you’re so fucking delicious, princess.”

Wonyoung's long fingers rake through your hair while you get your mouth back on her perky tits, slurping harder, drinking in her reactions—this lovely, sultry noise that leaves her throat when your teeth graze a little too hard around her sensitive nub.

And you’re nowhere close to being done tasting her, having not gone between her milky thighs yet, knowing the delicious nectar you’ll find there is incomparable to anything else.

She’s so desperate for your tongue to move there, right where she really needs it, where your fingers haven't ceased their playful touches on her thighs. But instead, you keep this buffet going, letting your mouth wander with no plans to neglect any part of her.

Peppering more kisses down the slope of her neck, your lips make their way along her collarbone, across the sleek surface of her bare shoulders. After a moment to relish her reactions, you lift her slender arms up over her head, so you can lick all over her armpits, tasting that distinct, delicious flavor you crave.

Wonyoung is already squirming with each lick, loving the extra attention as she keeps her arms up for you while you indulge in this favorite part of her body. It has you utterly addicted, when your tongue slides all over, wet and messy, while those cute little sounds leave her lips that she tries to suppress, leaving no doubt she loves this as much as you do.

“Princess—“ you finally groan out when you come up from burying your tongue in those luscious, creamy pits, before diving back in with an insatiable hunger to appreciate her body more and more. You won’t stop until you’ve licked this area absolutely glistening from your slobbery tongue, having tasted the skin there so thoroughly.

“Love the way you taste, everywhere, so goddamn delicious. Don’t wanna stop.” You’re so completely lost in devouring Wonyoung that you've lost all track of time, completely unaware of anything else when you suddenly hear another voice that isn't hers.

"Having fun, daddy?"

Not bothering to look up, you know it's Yujin standing there, with a look of amusement all over her features, while she watches you lick away without breaking your focus.

"Daddy got a little hungry," Wonyoung plainly states in place of you being too preoccupied to interrupt your meal. Despite a third body in the room, you don't cease in licking up this girl’s tight body, determined not to leave a single inch neglected.

"I can see that." Yujin chuckles, opening the fridge to grab something to drink, showing no real surprise seeing her two roommates going at it with absolutely no consideration for where they are. "What about you, princess? Had anything to eat yet?"

“Strawberries and daddy's big cock—that's all I've had," Wonyoung says so openly, prompting another boisterous laugh. Yujin joins you two at the counter, doing her best to not distract from your lustful licking and worshiping of her best friend's body.

You haven't even managed to make eye contact with Yujin yet either, too entranced in devouring Wonyoung laid out like a full course meal for your consumption, and that’s all before you even make it to the real delicacy between her legs.

"Sorry we made a mess on your sheets," you say once you speak up, lifting your tongue away from all this hot, flushed skin for only a moment, eager to head towards your next destination.

"Did you now?" Yujin asks, not even looking a little bit mad, every bit proud and content that you’ve used her bed for your escapades. Without any response, you decide to skip straight to the point, hopping off the counter and guiding Wonyoung closer by her milky thighs until her bare ass barely hangs off the edge of the counter. Now that she's all splayed out with her legs draped over both your shoulders, you've reached the best part—this divine treat ready for you to dive right fucking in.

"As long as our princess got the rough fucking she deserves from daddy, that's all that matters."

Yujin's approval has Wonyoung beaming at her until that smile fades quickly as your mouth travels where it belongs—right between those spread thighs. There's no better view than this, no sweeter taste while your tongue licks up her slit from end to end to flood your ravenous mouth.

Having Yujin a few inches away, keeping a close eye, amused by the show, only encourages you to give your all, to work Wonyoung into an overwhelmed mess as fast as humanly possible.

"Looks like she really loves daddy’s tongue, huh?" Yujin asks while sipping her drink, more than pleased at watching you work between Wonyoung’s messy thighs.

Neither of you offer anything in response, your mouth too occupied, Wonyoung obviously well out of commission. The longer you lick, the louder she gets, turning into a mewling mess even before you wrap your lips around her swollen little clit and start to suck relentlessly, getting lost in her blissful eye contact the entire time.

Her fingers desperately clutch onto the edges of this hard counter, hips so eager to buck against your face. Wonyoung can’t begin to muffle her high pitched, needy moans falling from her lips, completely brazen with bliss as you eat her succulent cunt out.

"Oh god, daddy, fuck, right there," she cries out so prettily, begging for more, even when you have your face buried between her trembling thighs, slurping away without any respite. "Please, just like that, don't stop—"

Yujin, she just sits there with a proud look on her face, savoring how Wonyoung turns into a puddle in no time at all, her presence doubling your efforts. A firm hand rests on her toned stomach to keep her pinned to the counter, not giving an ounce of control, only leaving her defenseless against the pleasure from your greedy mouth.

"Daddy's so good at this, isn't he? Licking that wet little cunt, getting his lips all over your clit,” Yujin says, not allowing her eyes to leave this scene for even a second, so enthralled with how desperate Wonyoung looks. “Gonna cum on his cute face soon, aren’t you?”

Wonyoung frantically nods as you keep her needy clit between your lips, suckling so harshly in response to draw every bit of ecstasy you can, knowing exactly what she needs to get close to that much desired edge. "Did our princess make daddy cum today?"

It takes a few moments before Wonyoung can satiate Yujin’s curiosity, grabbing a handful of your hair to steady herself from all those overwhelming sensations that make her toes curl.

"T-twice." One little word has her struggling to say it, nearly at the edge of losing complete control. The moans that spill out from her lips are almost as endless as the slick that drips down your chin, too addicted to this taste that you simply can’t get enough of. "Daddy came once down my throat, then again in my pussy while I was all tied up."

"Tied up?" Yujin repeats, raising an eyebrow with amusement in her tone as she looks in your direction. “Without me?”

"We found your little box. Under the bed."

Yujin smiles to herself, with no intentions to deny she owns anything like that. "Oh that? I was gonna use that on daddy, but it looks like you beat me to it…"

Wonyoung ignores every part of the conversation, arching her back off the table as she grinds her wet cunt right against your face, rocking her hips with a harsh tug of your hair. You've got her on the brink of release, and you're not going to stop now. “I'll never get tired of eating this delicious cunt until you cum all over my face, princess."

With each tug to your hair, Wonyoung draws closer and closer to the edge, until her thighs shake around your head. You’re trapped there without a way to escape—not that you'd want that when her juices run into your hungry mouth and down your chin, lapping up as much as she spills.

Meanwhile, Yujin's tired of being a spectator and wants to join for these final moments, leaning over the counter to play with Wonyoung's hard nipples, rolling and pinching them while the poor girl can't handle the excess bliss.

“So close, aren’t you, princess? Do you wanna cum for us?" Yujin purrs as she leans down a little lower to whisper in Wonyoung’s ear, knowing she can't endure much longer. Having nowhere to go with her legs over your shoulders, and now hands working on her heaving chest, tweaking the sensitive, perky buds—there's only one outcome left.

Wonyoung can only let out a sob of pleasure, her clit throbbing right up against your relentless mouth, and then when you shove two fingers deep within the velvety walls of her wet pussy—she simply shatters.

A deep cry and Wonyoung arches her back off the counter, body surrendering to bliss, shaking through a full orgasm, as Yujin keeps biting on her lobe, fingers twisting those hardened nubs to make her cum as long and as hard as possible.

Nothing could keep you from licking up all this delicious nectar that keeps gushing into your open mouth, the pretty sight of Wonyoung trembling, squirming, while you never relent, letting her ride her orgasm right on your tongue.

This double team of stimulation renders Wonyoung incapable of any coherent thoughts, delirious in nature as you keep your lips sealed around her clit, fingers pumping away in her wet heat. The faster you suck, the harder she sobs, and the messier you get, mouth slick with her delectable arousal. Her long legs still dangle lifelessly over your shoulders as she pushes at your face when it becomes all too much, the little whines becoming more pitiful by the second.

So, finally, you decide to let up, looking all proud between her legs, that she weakly drapes over the countertop, still shaking as her heavy breathing fills the room.

"That looked like it felt good," Yujin says after finally prying her own eyes away from Wonyoung to look over towards you while she recovers, running her fingers through your messy locks until her body can remember what normal breathing feels like. The corner of her mouth curls up when she notices the mess all over your face, giggling to herself.

"Fuck, so, so good, daddy always knows how to make me cum so hard…" Wonyoung’s voice struggles not to fade completely as she sits back up, staring down at you as you give her sensitive cunt a few final licks to help ease her down.

"You deserve it, princess," you reply, kissing the inside of her thighs softly. Yujin keeps up her playful touches while Wonyoung cools down, keeping her fingers dancing over those stiff, perky nipples, knowing just how sensitive they must be. Then her lips trail more kisses over the side of her face, letting that orgasm linger before she leans back to where her mouth meets yours, sharing that delicious sweetness.

"Hate to cut this short, but I have studying to get back to," Yujin says when your lips break apart. "I’ll have to miss daddy wrecking this pretty little cunt...”

There’s genuine disappointment in her voice, but unlike Wonyoung, priorities exist on Yujin's end that she keeps at the very top, no matter how often she misses times like these.

So with a quick kiss to your lips and then Wonyoung, Yujin makes her way to leave the two of you alone in the kitchen, heading up the stairwell off to her room, disappearing from sight.

✦ ✦

Following Yujin’s departure, you've somehow regained some semblance of normalcy, managing to put clothes back on after grabbing something to eat that isn't between Wonyoung's legs.

"So, daddy—" she starts out, scrolling mindlessly through her phone as she kicks her feet up on your lap, making no effort to hide the mischievous grin that curls onto her lips. Surrounded by silence again, it's a challenge for Wonyoung to sit still with all this freedom. Her eyes glance right at you, but you already know what’s at the end of that sentence.

"No," you answer firmly, despite the lack of anything else leaving that mouth. "We shouldn't bother Yujin."

"Who said anything about bothering her? I'll be quiet."

"You? Quiet? Did you forget the library incident already?"

"That wasn't my fault," Wonyoung scoffs, crossing her arms and looking rather offended that you bring that up first thing, shifting the blame so naturally. "You know I can't help how I sound when you've got your cock buried in me."

"Then why did you pick the library, of all places?"

"It was either that or the cramped bathroom stalls again and—besides, those shelves were full of dust and cobwebs. How was I supposed to know that someone needed a book on microeconomics at the exact moment you were balls deep in me?"

“Yeah, who would’ve thought someone needed a book at a library? How dare they.”

"Exactly," Wonyoung says, completely disregarding your clear sarcasm, still believing she's innocent in the matter. "I don’t even think that’s a real subject.”

Nobody can make you sigh as heavily as Wonyoung can.

You’re not going to try (again) to convince her why a library is off-limits, and no matter how stubborn she can get, or how cute and charming she can be, you're putting your foot down for this. There’s hardly anything that can hide the kinds of explicit sounds she’ll make (outside of soundproofing the entire bedroom) when you've got her folded up in half, taking every inch of your cock deep in her guts.

So if not the apartment, and definitely not the library, where else can you satisfy the insatiable, these desires Wonyoung has for you to plow into her without interruptions?

Sure, you have Wonyoung's repertoire of fancy cars at your disposal, but if you're being honest, there's little space in the backseat to really enjoy yourself, and the sun hasn't even gone down yet. It’ll be far too easy for anyone out and about to catch you in the act. The weather is still rather chilly to be outside by the pool, and you’re not about to check into a hotel just to rail this needy brat, so that doesn’t leave very many options.

Keeping your eyes locked on Wonyoung, you’re determined to not give into her demands—because those eyes say what she’s holding back. Surprisingly, you get a reaction you’re not expecting instead of more complaints, followed by a cute little smile out of nowhere. “Fine. I’ve got the perfect place we can go then.”

You raise an eyebrow with every level of suspicion imaginable.

With no promise to behave herself and a smirk she can't keep off her lips, Wonyoung drags you right out of the apartment and into her car in a heartbeat, handing you the keys. Because of course, you’re the one going to drive, unsurprised at her need to be passenger princess.

A short drive and she directs you into an empty parking lot, as you let her pink Ferrari come to a halt.

"Alright, get out," she says, slipping out of the passenger's seat, which leaves you there to simmer in curiosity and confusion. You slide out of the driver’s seat, following right behind as you trail after Wonyoung like a lost puppy. Off in the distance, you can see that you’re still on campus grounds, but exactly where? There’s no telling.

"Where the hell are we?" Standing outside in the barren parking lot, you survey the area—it looks empty and abandoned, which makes her pink sports car look even more out of place.

"You said no library, so this is the next best thing," she answers, still not willing to tell you anything. "Just follow me.”

It’s not like you have much choice. Wonyoung doesn't bother to elaborate or explain anything while you tag along close behind, heels clacking on the asphalt as she leads you into an unfamiliar building.

“Don't you trust me?"

“Not in the slightest."

That doesn’t stop you from staying a step behind as Wonyoung saunters through the hallways, walking so confidently like she’s done this route a hundred times in a building you didn’t even know existed. Though it gives you plenty of time to admire her from behind, those long legs that steal your attention with every step, and the rhythm of her hips so mesmerizing.

The entire floor seems completely vacant when you head down another hallway, and Wonyoung navigates with precision—past an array of classrooms, to the very end, until the two of you reach a set of elevators.

"Why do you even know about this place?"

"Perks of knowing the right people, daddy," Wonyoung answers with a sly little grin as a set of elevator doors slide open with a ding. "Although there's nobody here—so you could just fuck me in the elevator to save some time, couldn't you?"

You don’t answer her. At best, she doesn’t deserve one. That option is far too easy and unsatisfying, especially since you’ve been brought through this maze of hallways that leads up to—you’re not even sure.

With the press of a button, the doors shut once you step inside and this metal box begins to climb, groaning like it hasn't been used in months. It’s a slow ascent, leaving you alone with your thoughts of what exactly Wonyoung’s agenda is while she stands beside you, too close, arms folded in this little black dress that you have to fight not to stare at.

By the time the elevator reaches its stop, the doors part to another empty floor that’s more of the same.

"Come on. This way."

You continue to let Wonyoung lead you through, taking note of department names posted across each room's entrance, most all with a layer of dust over them. The entire floor is desolate, and you’re surprised the lights are even on, given how it must stay unused. Eventually, you stop questioning it, because your entire purpose here is to get out of the apartment, to give Yujin the space needed to focus on her studies, so you can focus on how good Wonyoung is going to look once she’s out of that stunning black dress.

All of this leads to a heavy-looking door, unmarked aside from a singular letter across the door in black—'A'. Wonyoung hesitates in opening it, as if wanting you to do the honors instead, which you oblige, only to find out the door handle won't budge an inch, locked tight.

"It's locked," you say, frustration creeping up in your tone as you wonder if this whole journey has been for naught.

“Is it?” There's a glimmer of deviousness in her voice that doesn’t phase her one bit, digging through her purse before fishing out a white plastic card. "That's the point."

With that, she swipes the card, and instantly the red light illuminates the scanner beside the doorknob, changing to green. Another firm turn, and she twists the door knob, now able to push it open as the both of you head right in.

"You just have a key to this room?" you ask, growing increasingly more and more confused. "Did you steal it?"

"Of course not," Wonyoung answers with a scoff as she flicks the nearby switch on, lighting up the room as a huge row of windows comes into view, revealing what looks to be a rather spacious conference room, with a large wooden table in the center. While this building appears to be rather useless, these massive windows offer one of the best views of campus.

Aside from that, nothing of note exists, enough chairs for at least a dozen people, yet no signs of a single person occupying one recently.

"Like I said, perks of knowing the right people," Wonyoung says, seemingly satisfied to leave it at that. "Nobody even knows this room exists. They were supposed to rebuild this building a year ago, but that never happened… so it's a nice, big empty room for daddy to rail me in."

"How do you even know about all this?"

"Do you ever stop asking questions?" Wonyoung huffs, feeling the mood start to fade as her patience wears thin. "You wanted to leave Yujinnie alone, didn't you? All you need to worry about is fucking me until I can't walk."

"So romantic," you respond with all the sarcasm you can muster as Wonyoung heads over towards the table, climbing on top and crossing her legs so you can get a good view of how this dress hugs her deadly figure in all the right places. “The princess is so full of surprises today.”

"Less talking and more shoving your dick in me, please."

Wonyoung is already slipping a finger under one strap, sliding it off her shoulders so fluidly. And the same with the other, until the dress is barely holding on. You find yourself just watching, knowing it'll never get any easier to tear your eyes off that sinful body that's presented just for you to admire as she slides the fabric down further.

"What makes you think I'm going to fuck you so easily, princess?"

One quick tug and the dress slips right off her body with no assistance, answering the question with ease. The sight of her left exposed has your mouth going dry in the snap of a second, her black dress a heap at the floor between her legs. Underneath is a pair of black panties but no bra, wearing nothing to cover up her perky tits, nipples already hardening at the touch of cool air.

Her fingertips graze her chest, lowering until they reach the waistband of her panties, and she peels them off in one swift motion, leaving her standing in nothing but black heels that accentuate those ridiculously long legs. Now completely nude, Wonyoung spreads her legs, offering the sight of her freshly shaven cunt that already glistens in the light, wet and swollen from her desperate hunger for your cock. “Does daddy ever need a reason to fuck me senseless?”

Without looking away for a second, Wonyoung slips her fingers right between her legs to tease herself before holding them up, letting her arousal speak for itself. No further convincing is needed, and with a few steps forward, those fingers meet your lips, slipping straight into your mouth.

A whimper falls when you wrap your lips around those digits to clean them off, but they leave again as soon as they arrive, so fast, while Wonyoung wastes no time dropping to her knees with a single intent in mind.

Those fingers hastily move to unbuckle your belt, tugging your pants right to the ground so that nothing remains on your lower half. All the attention immediately goes straight to your stiff, throbbing shaft that Wonyoung practically drools at, stroking up and down at a tauntingly slow pace.

"Rock fucking hard, just how I like it, daddy," Wonyoung breathes in satisfaction. Her hand gives you one more squeeze as a test, noting the familiar throb against her palm.

"Just shut up and start sucking, princess."

With zero reluctance, those soft, plump lips wrap around your cockhead, easing you into the pleasure.

"But wouldn't daddy like it better if—"

And then you thrust hard and without warning, your length shoved far deeper than Wonyoung anticipates, because that's the only way you're going to shut her up. That makes her pretty mouth fall open, taking the entirety of your length in the back of her throat, so deep that her lips rest against your base with ease.

“That’s much better,” you say, as you hold the poor thing right there, unbuttoning your shirt while she stays like that, gurgling on your shaft until you toss it aside, leaving you just as naked as her.

Another thrust follows right after, and there's no remorse as you fuck her face, indulging in the way her eyes immediately widen, struggling to take every inch of that throbbing cock while it plunges past those glossy lips.

Wonyoung looks right at home, a messy bobbing of her head to help, her fingertips clinging onto the back of your thighs to pull you in closer. This is right where you need her, on her knees, throat stuffed, with your hands gripping fistfuls of dark hair tightly, while those beautiful, watery eyes stare right up when you take control.

“Fuck, this bratty fucking mouth—your lips feel so fucking amazing around my cock," you growl, and there’s not much else that needs to be said when this bliss runs through your body, when her tongue eagerly works along your length, slobbering over every single inch in the warm depths of her throat.

Wonyoung fights the urge to gag with her head firmly cradled between both of your hands, and her jaw wide open. There isn’t anything more beautiful about this sight, when her lips get covered in drool, tears running down her cheeks, and those hungry slurps mixed into her breaths while you use that pretty mouth.

"I think I like this place now," you say, cock lodged all the way down Wonyoung's tight throat, holding her right where you want her, which earns a few heavy, muffled coughs. Not even realizing you've picked up the pace, you get a little rougher in the process, pulling that hair a bit more than usual. Your cock drips with spit every time her stretched lips part, drool dripping all the way down her chin and naked body.

You can’t be gentle whatsoever when she looks so needy on her knees, never once hesitating to make sure Wonyoung knows exactly who is in control here. Her nose buries into your stomach every time your length slides back in, and she takes every last inch like a champ, proving she wants nothing more but to keep her tight, wet mouth stuffed with cock.

Because that messy mouth never pulls away, no signs of wanting to tap out anytime soon, that heavenly little mouth so willing and eager to be a toy all for your pleasure. All Wonyoung can do is hold your thighs tight as you fuck her face mercilessly, and you can never hold back your hips from bucking right in a harsh, relentless rhythm.

Seeing such a wrecked mess is everything you want, all the encouragement needed—this pretty thing all ruined, nothing like her usual prim and proper demeanor.

As the tears start to well up in her eyes now, you’re really taking advantage of her obedience, shoving yourself deep into the back of her throat without faltering, so you can do a number on that perfectly applied makeup. Despite the continuous onslaught in her throat, Wonyoung stares up with such devotion, hardly able to breathe.

The look in her eyes says it all—getting off on being a complete slobbering mess that takes your dick so well, this gorgeous girl kneeling beneath you couldn’t be happier.

When you eventually stop to take in the masterpiece you’ve created, Wonyoung leans back and lets out an immediate whine, gasping for air while your shaft, all covered in spit, rests on her face. Her mascara trails down those reddened cheeks, streaks of saliva all over her chin, lips swollen from sucking so hard on your thick shaft. “Please—please keep fucking my throat, daddy.”

Wonyoung sounds so pathetic when she speaks, when drool spills out of her lips the moment they leave your cock. She’ll have to wait until later, because that’s all she’s getting now—you’re not going to end the fun without bending that body over the table. "Don't get greedy."

As if she can do anything but that, worshiping your cock by planting these ravenous little kisses on the underside of your length to get more throbs from you, savoring the weight and taste like she can’t go a second without it. "Can't help it, daddy. Not when it tastes so good, just need it back in my mouth, need to choke more on it, please—“

“No, princess. This is going in your pretty little cunt now. Get up.”

A hasty rise, and Wonyoung heads to the edge of the conference table, turning around to peer out at the campus for the briefest moment—lost in lust with only thoughts of your cock entering her. "Y-yes, daddy. You better cum in me. I’ve earned it.”

"Have you now? Because I don’t think you’ve earned a damn thing yet.” Before she has a chance to answer, you smack her tight ass hard, and she yelps in response, the soft flesh reddening immediately at the harsh sting.

"I’ve earned for daddy to fuck me like a toy, haven’t I? And to be a good little cum dump?”

You don’t even dignify her comment with a response, slapping her other cheek twice as hard. Wonyoung bends down to remove her heels, only for her wrist to be caught at the last second, getting the message loud and clear. "Leave those on, princess. Want you in those fucking heels while I ruin you."

“Whatever daddy wants...” With her palms flat, Wonyoung braces herself on the table, legs spread in anticipation. There's a certain charm and elegance about her wearing nothing but those sexy heels as she takes her position, offering up that glistening pussy while she awaits your cock.

"Such a pretty pussy, already so dripping wet like the slut that you are," you say, sliding right up to that backside so that your shaft can line up right between those cheeks. "Do you want me to be rough with you, princess? Do you want me to pound this greedy fucking cunt and breed you?”

"Always," she says, an immediate answer despite her voice wavering. “Daddy can always be rough with me. Use me however you want.”

An offer like that can’t go to waste. Spending a moment to admire the beauty of this petite goddess, you push down on her bare back to bend her further over, ass sticking up in the air while you tease her warm entrance with the tip of your cock.

"Should make you beg for this dick. Made me come all the way up here just so nobody else can hear you scream when I rail you, huh?” You decide not to, because when you’ve got Wonyoung bent over so deliciously, eagerly waiting for your cock to stretch her all out, the view of her inviting cunt is far too irresistible.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to get us away from Yujinnie. I would have been perfectly happy taking that dick in the kitchen or anywhere else. Now hurry up and—“

Before Wonyoung finishes, you silence her with a harsh snap of your hips, sinking deep inside in one powerful thrust. The heat from her cunt hits all at once, as does the grip of those velvety walls when you open her up so wide from the start. She's so fucking wet that you slide in to the hilt with ease, echoing her moans when you're bottoming out within seconds.

"Oh god, that's so fucking good," Wonyoung cries out, biting on her bottom lip when you start to pound right into her slick depths, again and again, and you can't believe how impossibly tight she is despite all this. "Love it when daddy splits me open with his thick fucking cock.”

You hardly have a moment to savor this tightness as your hands settle on Wonyoung's hips, squeezing with so much force that it makes her walls clench unbelievably so all around your entire length. She whines so prettily for you when her pussy swallows the entirety of your cock in these unforgiving thrusts, rocking her slender body forward against the table every time you drill into her warm, needy cunt.

"Fucking your throat was just what I needed, princess, getting me all nice and warmed up," you say, gaze fixed solely on how those buttcheeks look every single time they collide with you. Wonyoung takes it all in stride, every inch filling her up with ease as her soaked cunt adjusts so well to your length. Her heels clack to match the rhythm of your hips, accentuating those absurdly long and slender legs that can barely touch the floor when she's bent over like this.

"God, your cock is so good, so big inside me, daddy," she whimpers, and your hips don't cease for a moment, pulling her tight body into every motion of your hips. “Aren’t you glad I brought you here? So I can be as loud as I want while I’m creaming all over your cock?”

You’re too busy indulging in her intoxicating heat to care, offering nothing but the deepest of thrusts that hit right in the gut, fingers digging into her supple skin. Wonyoung, she’s made to take it just like this, the most perfect fit for your cock.

“Stop talking and take this cock, princess,” you say, fucking your cock into her warm hole all rough and careless like she’s desperate for. Wonyoung’s going to do only one of those things, not afraid to let out every frantic moan and breathless gasp, surrendering completely to you and the pistoning of your hips that are unstoppable at this point.

There's nothing but an echo bouncing through this empty room, the filthy sounds of bare flesh clashing together as you drive in over and over, buried so deep into Wonyoung’s perfect pussy that’s somehow gets even wetter around you from getting railed just like she wants.

“Fuck, can’t get enough of your tight pussy, princess,” you groan out, slamming so roughly as you relish the sight of her back arching, feeling the weight of your body all over hers. "You feel so so good, you're just dying to be filled up again, aren't you?"

"Y-yes, daddy," she replies, voice quivering while struggling to speak in the midst of her cunt being pummeled against the table. "Daddy can dump as many loads as he wants, wanna be so fucking full with your hot cum—"

“Then maybe I should be fucking you against the window—let everyone see you all naked and exposed, watching me destroy this perfect little pussy until I breed you so deep and full."

That makes Wonyoung tighten up so harshly, because even though you're so many floors up, she can't deny the thought of being watched by absolute strangers as she's pounded against the glass until she's screaming—

While her imagination wanders, you let go of her hips for now, leaning forward to seize her forearms instead, pinning them behind her back as you keep plowing her into the table. Wonyoung clenches more at that, now that she’s so utterly helpless to do anything but take the brunt of aggressive thrusts as your pace only quickens, even more relentless with a bruising grip on her delicate wrists.

“Shit, oh fuck, daddy, just like that, pound my little pussy just like that!”

Nothing could ever stop you from doing exactly that. Every fresh thrust accentuates the loud clap of your hips against her pale cheeks, the room filled by the sinful symphony of her loud moans that escapes so shamelessly. “So desperate for this fucking cock, you’ll do anything to get your slutty pussy wrecked by this, won’t you?"

Wonyoung just nods vigorously, as much as she can with you in control of her limbs, her forearms pressed right behind her, all bound in your grasp so you can keep her body firmly in place. You've got her cunt all stretched out, a hot, slick warmth to impale your throbbing shaft into, and you know she can feel all of you as you thrust and thrust without holding back a single time. “Daddy—fuck, so fucking deep in me, oh my god, use that pussy, use me to cum so deep and full—“

Those stiletto heels don't do her any favors as they clack rapidly against the ground, even lifting up at one point as she succumbs to pleasure, her entire body driven forward by your ferocity and strength.

"Oh my god, oh my fucking god," she gasps, borderline screaming with every snap of your hips, those wide open legs a blur of motion every time you bury inside. Wonyoung keeps you so snug inside her, refusing to let go while you drill her mercilessly, a series of breathless little gasps with each different thrust that drives her petite frame forward every time you hit balls deep.

“So, fucking, good,” you groan, punctuating each word with your hips. The resounding smack of hot flesh through this vacant conference room sounds every bit filthy the more you continue. Through all the moans, those drenched pussy lips cling to your cock whenever you ram back in, making it nearly impossible to hold back—so fucking tight and perfect, your shaft getting squeezed when it fills her all the way, never an inch remaining outside her.

And she loves every single moment of it.

“Daddy—“ It’s the only word on repeat falling from Wonyoung's mouth, a chorus of pathetic little whines, too gone to speak a coherent sentence. Her body jolts forward every time you plunge in deep, dripping sweat, at the absolute mercy of whenever your shaft hits at the perfect angle, shedding away whatever decency she has left. "Your huge cock is gonna make me cum if you keep fucking me this hard."

"That's the point, princess," you say, keeping this tight grip on her wrists to plow away, using her sweaty body how you see fit. Though you’re rapidly testing your own limitations, unsure how much longer you can keep up the current pace, Wonyoung is struggling to hold on, pussy spasming wildly through this onslaught of punishing pleasure. "But how many times can I do this? How many times can I make you cum on my cock?”

Wonyoung offers no clear reply other than desperate moans, shuddering in her bound position, so desperate to regain some control to impale herself right back on your length. But you keep her right here for as long as you need, a nice toy to pound into, this perfect tightness wrapped around your cock never ever enough.

“Can't hear you. Better speak up, brat," you growl and loosen your grasp on Wonyoung’s slender arms, kneading two handfuls of her pert ass, digging your fingertips into the supple flesh.

It’s rather animalistic, the way you watch her body bent over, so helplessly accepting your ruthless strokes. But now, she has the freedom to finally push herself back against your length, making sure her cunt swallows up every single inch. You don’t let up for a single moment, fucking Wonyoung so harshly against the table, both hands sinking into her asscheeks that jiggle each time you thrust, with only the tips of her black heels meeting the carpet floor.

“Asked you a fucking question, princess. How many times does daddy’s little slut want to cum on my cock? Two? Three? Or have I fucked you so hard you've forgotten how to count?"

“D-dunno, daddy, as many as you want me to,” Wonyoung stammers out, and you know she’ll greedily take as many orgasms as she can handle. Yet right now, all she can think about are these rapid-fire thrusts that get her closer to the edge, meeting your hips to speed this all up. “Feels so fucking good when you’re this rough—gonna fucking cum, gonna cum on that thick cock, oh my fucking god—“

Those heels finally slip right off her feet, and all this spiraling bliss has her toes curling on the ground while she braces for the inevitable. Right on cue, Wonyoung hits the tipping point, and her pussy convulses with absolute need around your throbbing length. Her voice echoes out daddy like a chant, those messy warm walls squeezing the life out of your shaft, all while these uncontainable trembles persist.

She’s gasping, moaning, aching for more while you ram into her soaking heat at a dizzying rate, a new rush of wetness that drowns your cock and threatens to push you out of her.

The pleasure rips Wonyoung to shreds, and you fuck her through every intense moment, hips smacking so fast and rough against her tight little ass to savor the ripples that you help create. She rides this blissful high, wave after wave, gushing all over you until a pool of arousal drips down her thighs, staining everywhere it falls.

“D-daddy—“ Wonyoung just keeps shaking beneath you, cumming on your cock again and again, her erratic sobs filling your ears. You love how overwhelmed she gets, when she falls apart, reduced to such a mess of heavy panting and those parted lips that struggle to catch a breath. Every inch of that porcelain skin glistens with sweat, strands of dark hair clinging to her pretty face, eyes half lidded as they try their best to meet yours.

"So good, daddy fucks me so damn good…” Wonyoung murmurs, still shaking after a release that hits like a truck, hardly able to let out anything but exhausted sobs and ragged breaths.

Now that she’s coming down, you slow the pace back to something much more manageable, something less taxing on your body. Because you’re not done with her yet. Words can’t even describe the state you’ve left her in, a complete fucked out mess, legs barely holding up her weight through the aftershocks of climaxing so hard on your cock, and there’s no part of her tired frame that isn’t still spasming.

Letting Wonyoung collect herself, you run a hand down her spine, fingertips slipping through a layer of perspiration that shines against her pale skin, and that's before you look down between her legs. You really hope her claim that nobody uses this room—or this entire building holds weight—because this room is going to be in shambles when you’re both done.

Only when she's gotten the most out of her overwhelming ecstasy, do you pull out for good, giving one more harsh thrust for good measure, still holding those cheeks in your grasp as a tired whine slips past her lips when left suddenly empty.

But Wonyoung doesn’t have time for her body to recover, barely catching her breath while turning back around to face you, and she practically crumbles to her knees before you can do or say anything about it. Immediately, she engulfs your cock in her warm mouth once again, lips wrapped around every drenched inch, eager to taste the tangy sweetness of her own juices.

"Jesus—so hungry for this fucking cock, aren't you?" you ask, looking down at the beautiful sight of Wonyoung bobbing her head between your legs like her life depends on it, savoring every single drop of her pussy as if she'll never have the privilege of tasting you again.

Wonyoung releases you with a loud, wet pop, letting your shaft smack on her face with a giggle before wrapping fingers along your slick, spit-covered length. "Can’t help it. Not my fault daddy's cock is so delicious."

As good as she looks with your cock in her mouth, one of those conference room windows has her name written all over it. So without another word, you help Wonyoung back to her feet, earning a cute little gasp of surprise when you hoist her up in the air—then slide your cock right back inside with one swift movement as she wraps her long legs around your waist.

"H-holy shit, daddy, oh fuck—" With each powerful thrust upwards into this pretty cunt, her hands fall around your neck, arms clinging as tightly as she can while your hips drive right up into her. And with an extra squeeze of her scrumptious ass to help, she holds on as you walk her to one of the large windows nearby, continuing right where you left off.

Her naked back meets the glass surface, the cool sensation catching her entirely off guard. You've got your hands right under her creamy thighs, and Wonyoung feels so light in your arms, practically weightless, able to easily pin her up against the glass like a prized piece of artwork.

Wonyoung’s petite body is almost too easy to carry around—it takes no effort to bounce her on your cock, starting out with these shallow pumps, before really fucking her on your shaft, returning to something that resembles your earlier pace. "Hope you’re ready for me to blow such a thick fucking load into you, princess."

“Always am,” she says, as her head rests against the glass window, eyes fluttering close whenever you slam her all the way down your length. Wonyoung feels so good wrapped around your cock, so unbelievably tight as you pound her deep and fast in such a vulnerable position on display for anybody who looks high enough to see. “Love when daddy uses my little pussy and fills me up with hot cum.”

“Good,” you start to say, focusing on drilling as deep as possible in every thrust, so addicted to the moans that spill out so freely, exactly like before. "Because I'm gonna cum in you so hard. Gonna fill that pretty cunt to the fucking brim. No goddamn way I’m pulling out."

"I know daddy would never. Wanna feel it all unload inside me. Don't waste a single drop, pump it all deep into my pussy, empty those heavy balls right in me—that’s where it belongs."

"Yeah, it fucking does," you reply, feeling a new surge of energy as you keep Wonyoung pinned against the glass, relishing how helpless this position is making her feel. You’re both completely lost in it all, the slick walls of her cunt spasming like crazy, every thrust hitting harder than the last. “All this cum belongs deep inside this perfect cunt of yours. Not gonna have to wait long for me to fill you up."

With that said, you give everything you’ve got, staring into those eyes that demand her wet cunt gets used by your shaft, stretched out with every pump. And just like that, you fuck Wonyoung into another devastating orgasm, pounding relentlessly into her dripping heat while she writhes uncontrollably in your arms.

“Greedy fucking slut can’t stop cumming on my cock, can you?” you ask, and there's nothing to muffle her high-pitched cries. She clenches harder and harder in response, knowing how equally close you're getting, far too close for comfort, wanting that hot, sticky release shooting deep.

And as much as you want this to never end, to keep Wonyoung impaled on your shaft with her sweaty body against the window, you simply can't fight your inevitable end. You get a nice, firm grip on her ass, fingertips filled with that supple flesh, and keep her body securely in your grasp as she hangs on tight, taking every unforgiving thrust. Her legs secure so tightly around you, clinging to your body, and those desperate moans turn into whines and whimpers whenever you bring her body down on the base of your shaft every time you drive deep.

"Inside me. Cum inside me, daddy, right now, please, just—“

As if there's any choice to be made. You can barely hold out, keeping her pinned against the glass while you bury your throbbing shaft back into those glistening pussy lips. It's all a matter of seconds, until her cunt grips you just the right way and makes you fucking explode inside her warm, slippery depths.

The look in her lustful eyes, those sweet pleas that beg for you to pump it all into her like she deserves, it has you there in an instant. When you inevitably topple over the edge, you let out a loud, guttural groan, and empty everything into Wonyoung like you’ve been building it all up for weeks.

Thrust after thrust, your shaft throbs violently, flooding Wonyoung’s intoxicating heat with thick, sticky strands of white, and you spill it all into the deepest part of her soaked cunt. It's pure ecstasy, and the first pump inside makes her convulse around your cock, her pretty features contorted with relief as her pussy takes in everything, refusing to give back a single drop.

The most perfect place to unload all your cum, right where it fucking belongs.

Through this final ride of bliss, Wonyoung’s long legs stay wrapped around you, holding you hostage, and every squeeze her cunt gives has you fucking your messy load deeper into her greedy pussy, hips nearly on auto-pilot. Because once again, it’s another way of proving that she’s actually the one in charge here, despite your defilement of her body that would say otherwise.

“Feels so full, so warm, daddy always cums so much in me,” Wonyoung says, as she buries her head in your shoulder, muffling her attempts to catch her breath.

“You earned it, princess. For being such a—“ you cut yourself off, because you’re much too tired to even think about anything but the bliss lingering through your body.

“For what? Being daddy’s slut? Or his favorite cum dump?”

“I was about to say a good girl, but clearly I was wrong, once again. You really are nothing but an insatiable little slut.”

“Daddy’s insatiable little slut. You should know already that I’m not a good girl…” Maybe they go hand-in-hand more than Wonyoung thinks.

As good as this glass window must feel against Wonyoung's exhausted figure, you're far too spent to keep her pressed here. With whatever stamina left remaining, you carry her over to the conference table and deposit her limp body onto the flat wooden surface before you collapse right on top of her, still sheathed in her warm pussy.

It's Wonyoung that moves next, wrapping her hands around you to pull you close, lips meeting in a sloppy, heated kiss that’s considerably less intense than before. Her hands settle around your cheeks, and she cradles your face to meet your gaze, content with you just staring at her.

“Just a little longer, daddy. Feels so good to have you inside me. Stay like this a bit longer.“ You can’t possibly say no to that. So you simply nod, resting your body on top of Wonyoung as she continues to keep you warm in her messy cunt.

The two of you lose track of time while basking in the afterglow with no concerns for anything else, making out lazily. After all the roughness that comes with the territory of fucking Wonyoung, these delicate kisses prove just as necessary, brushing strands of hair that stick to her forehead. You could easily rest here forever.

"Daddy..." Wonyoung mutters when you finally part from her sticky folds, all that oozing mess dripping out into a puddle on the ground, joining the previous evidence left by this rigorous session. "Let's go get ice cream. There's a new place nearby I wanna try."

It's so very Wonyoung that even while she rests here, fully naked on this table, covered in sweat with her legs hanging off the edge, that all she can think about is eating ice cream. But hey, nothing sounds better, other than maybe a long, long steamy shower. "Whatever you want, princess. You deserve it."

"Of course I do. All this thick cum pumped into me proves it," she says, swiping two fingers through her messy folds to scoop out a bit of the seed you've shot deep, then sucks on her fingers so obscenely, like it's her favorite thing in the world to taste.

There’s that look in her eyes again, suddenly energized by tasting what you’ve left between her legs. And yet, you can't exactly hide that you share the same desire, no longer the least bit exhausted while Wonyoung’s naked body stays on full display, glistening with sweat, cum dripping down her thighs, hair all disheveled, looking like an absolute gorgeous wreck.

"Or does daddy wanna fuck another load into me first?”

✦ ✦

Finding every excuse not to return to the apartment, ice cream only happens somewhere near the second or third round, after finishing inside Wonyoung again, then once more over her tight body all sprawled out on the conference table.

Without a shred of guilt, you've both left that room in absolute shambles, trusting Wonyoung's word when she swears nobody's going to even bother checking this place, anyway. So after trying to clean up what you can, ice cream turns into another quick fuck in the bathroom, plowing her against the sink while keeping a hand right over her mouth the entire time, until you shoot another heavy load all over her eager, gorgeous face.

Wonyoung always looks the prettiest when she’s covered in your load.

And of course, that wasn’t enough—because nothing ever is, even as she stares at her cum-glazed face in the mirror, almost daring to leave the bathroom wearing your load.

You manage to sneak in one more session, this time outdoors, by the river, on a park bench in an area that you hope is secluded enough to escape attention. At least the sun has gone down, though the lust from Wonyoung clearly hasn't.

The stars shine bright in the sky, highlighting every inch of this girl’s ridiculous figure while she rides you until you warn her you're about to explode. She quickly slips off your shaft and drops to her knees in the grass, eager to finish you off with her mouth as her lips slide down to your base just in time. And somehow, you’re still throbbing hard through another explosive release, gripping the edge of the bench while she guzzles it all down her throat.

In typical Wonyoung fashion, she keeps sucking like a greedy slut, as if she hasn't already emptied you several times over. You don't have the energy to protest, which, of course, she uses to her advantage, keeping her warm fucking mouth around your oversensitive, swollen shaft. There’s no point in resorting to begging, because nothing’s going to stop her from making you blow again, refusing to let off until she claims one more pathetic load.

When she finally has mercy on you, she drags her cum-soaked tongue up to the tip of your cock, smiling innocently like she just didn't force everything you had left into her throat. Then she has the audacity to plant these little kisses all over your cockhead, watching how it twitches uncontrollably, continuing to stroke along every inch until there's nothing left to spill.

And just like that, she's in your lap, running fingers through your hair, giggling that she still has the taste of your cum lingering in her mouth. The way Wonyoung goes from depraved and starved for cock to sweet princess so suddenly makes your head fucking spin.

It's almost midnight by the time you get under running water, and you’re so devoid of energy that Wonyoung ends up having to scrub every inch of your body before her own—or that's just another excuse for her to get her hands all over you. Either way, by the time she's all finished cleaning you up, you collapse right onto the mattress.

"Poor daddy's so worn out," you hear Wonyoung say as she crawls under the sheets right behind, pressing her naked body into your back, legs coiling around you. An arm hooks over your chest, wrapping tight enough so that you can't escape, even if you wanted to. "Wanted you to fuck me until I couldn't walk straight, but seems like daddy can't even move an inch."

Even when you're about to pass out from exhaustion, you can't help but let out a smile at how brazen she sounds. Wonyoung nuzzles against the back of your shoulder before placing a little peck near the side of your neck. Then another. And one more for good measure.

"Maybe we should leave Yujinnie alone more often if it means daddy gets to have so much fun with me..."

That's the last thing you hear, thinking about how much Yujin's going to jump all over the both of you the moment she's done with studies before the exhaustion finally takes over, welcoming a deep, long slumber.

And you can’t wait.

#kpop smut #wonyoung smut #ive smut #girl group smut #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #wonyoung x reader

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 4 months

Text

little baby lime | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

“does reid have a girlfriend?” emily asked derek and jj. they both shared a quizzical look with pouted lips, taken aback by the random question.

“not since that one time thing with that lila actress,” derek mumbled. now it was emily’s turn to be thrown off by this new information, “an actress?”

“an old case,” jj informed her. “spencer doesn’t seem like the dating type, mostly. never mentioned anything that might point to it, always doing his usual routine on his days off.” the blonde shrugged off her sentence.

“why do you ask?” derek turned back to emily who jerked her chin while looking behind the two, “cause he’s hugging a girl who might also be pregnant.” an impressed smirk to her mauve lips.

derek and jj wiped their heads fast around you could hear a crack from their necks. true to emily’s words, doctor spencer reid, well know to be a germaphobe, was wrapped in a tight embrace with a shorter woman. his back was to the trio but they could see that his arms were over her shoulders and hers were snug around his torso, also noting that spencer was giving both bodies a gentle sway.

“well that’s a sight,” derek teased. then jj followed with, “why might you think she’s pregnant? we can’t see with tall boy swallowing her.”

emily tapped the side of her nose, “saw her enter just before i asked the hundred dollar question and her tank was a bit snug on her stomach and she even gave it a rub.” eyes moving to the mystery duo then back, “then when spencer went to her he, one kissed her forehead then two also touched her stomach.”

three sets of eyes honed in back to spencer and his mystery guest. you leaned apart, head leaving spencer’s chest but arms wrapped to his back. you smiled brightly at spencer’s rosie face, “you’ve gotten prettier in only a week. not fair.” pouting exaggerated as you rubbed your palms along spencer’s spine.

he smiled nervously at the compliment. “that’s statistically not true. only with time and sometimes diet does your skin start to shift and change. like your body is doing now while going through pregnancy.” a quick peck upon your oily forehead, you sweat too much and sucks that summer is rolling in.

“this little lime is slowly stretching some of my clothes out. but i’m gonna be a sexy mama, like rachel green from friends. so i expect you to defend me against anyone.” teasing spencer since you already know he’ll defend you even over an argument about clothing.

before spencer could reply there was a loud, exaggerated cough from behind. stepping out of spencer’s hold you waffled your hands together and leaned your head against his bicep. a trio of agents you haven’t met before smiled questioning spencer’s way.

“pretty boy, you didn’t tell us you had a gorgeous girl waiting for you.” a tall dark skin man teased like an older brother. he looked at you and smiled his white teeth, “derek morgan, part of the bau.”

“oh, the playboy of the unit. i’ve heard a thing or two about you.” cocking a brow while derek showed surprise but covered it with a laugh, “glad to know i always leave an impression on pretty boy.”

“and thank you for the new nickname, i will be stealing it.” causing the two women to chuckle. a petite blonde woman stuck a hand out and you automatically took it, “i’m jennifer jareau, but you can call me jj. i’m the liaison for the team, deal with media and dictate our cases.”

“and a beaut. glad i snatch up spence before you had the chance.” spencer ducked his chin to his chest while jj just raised her brows, “think it’s for the best you took him off the market first.”

“lucky for me.” pointing a manicured finger to the left of jj, “now you, sexy lady must be emily prentiss since i already know wonderful penelope garcia. if i hadn’t know spencer earlier you would’ve been on my mind twenty-four seven.” a playful wink thrown her way, she didn’t protest to your suggestive words.

“maybe we can get together and see what i’m missing out on. but also, how long have you known reid? we didn’t know you existed.” a huffed laugh.

“use to live in vegas as a kid. thirteen my freshman year to have the local boy genius, twelve year old senior tutor me in algebra. with his help i didn’t need summer school. and i didn’t see him for a while until a few years ago when he’d make visits back into town.” cartoon hearts filtered through your eyes as you recounted your love story. “been dating two and a half years and then this dolt,” a light smack to spencer’s chest, “forgot to practice safe sex and here we are.”

all three of their faces showed complete shock at your last sentence and you can understand why. “don’t worry, spencer takes very good care of me. day and night if you know what i mean.” wiggling your brows suggestively.

spencer sighed, “i think they do, sweetheart. and i wish i could forget this whole conversation.” displeased at where this headed, but still stared towards you like you were the stars in the sky. “now if you’ll excuse us, garcia would like to see her favorite person.”

“second favorite,” derek cheekily pipped in. you waved him off as spencer walked the both of you away and further in the offices. to garcia’s dungeon or lair, whatever she’s feeling that day.

with a polite nock to her closed door and a muffled, “enter traveler,” you rushed inside for her bear hug. “penny!”

“oh my gosh! how are you sexy mama?” penelope rocked you side to side, cheek pressed into her neck. you giggled at the nickname, “is bean pole taking care of you?”

“bean pole?” spencer’s voice was mumbled but an unladylike snort escaping your nose. “i do have a thing for tall, lanky boys.”

“i don’t like this conversation either.”

#erin writes #spencer reid #early seasons spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x pregnant!reader

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myvoiddreams · 1 month

Text

Fragments of Starlight

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: With the impending war, Y/N is captured by Hybern's general. As they struggle to protect those they care about, they reflect on their unrequited feelings for Azriel and their insecurities within the Night Court.

Word Count: 4,585

Warnings: ANGST, violence, torture, dark themes

A/N: This is my first time ever writing anything like this. I am a true sucker for angst. This is meant to go along with some of the events of ACOWAR, but of course, it’s different. Please don’t come at me for not following it’s exact story line. ALSO, I know that Azriel or Feyre would NEVER, but it’s just for the heartache okay!!

Part 2, Part 3

------

Now

All of it, it was all going to shit. I don’t know how my ears weren’t bleeding at the sheer amount of noise coming from the chaos around me. So much screaming, but was it Hybern’s forces, or our own? Everything was ringing, my head throbbing along with it. It was almost as if my breaths were not reaching my lungs. I was on the ground, all fours underneath me as I tried and tried to get myself to my feet. Everything was sore, it was like my muscles were not working. I stretched for the source of the aching on my temple and what I found was the warm, wet consistency of fresh blood.

My family, where is my family? Panic drenched me like a bucket of ice water.

With a groan, I grabbed my sword that lay beside me and turned to face the sky, now sitting at least. The sky, it was so blue. It almost felt like a disgusting joke to see something so beautiful, as dead bodies lay at my feet. Hybern’s forces were surrounding me, there was no escaping this.

I grit my teeth as I stand, my blade in hand. Dizziness rolls off me in waves, so much so that nausea is found coursing through my veins. I don’t get very far up before I’m slammed back down to the earth. My face hits the dirt as all the air leaves my lungs, leaving nothing but the taste of the earth and blood in my mouth. There is someone standing on my back, applying enough pressure I’m sure I’ll have a broken rib or two.

“Don’t go too far, sweetheart. We are just getting started with you.” A cry of pain leaves my lips as one of Hybern’s generals continues to crush my ribcage. The nausea and ringing in my head is too much. Then, with another blow to my head, everything is dark.

---

Before

“Oh, come on now sweet cheeks! You can do better than that. Az and I trained you myself!” Cassian’s voice was oh so annoying as he pinned me to my back. Sweat was gleaming across both of us as we spent the morning training. I was panting as my mind continued to reel.

Life had gotten tense with the Inner Circle recently. Not only was Prythian on the cusp of war with Hybern, but now we had to juggle the two newly made Fae that were the Archeron sisters.

I honestly felt bad for them. They did not ask for this life. I can only image what it would be like to go through life having your humanity ripped from you. Now knowing that you are going to be around for centuries instead of decades. And I felt bad for Feyre, who never wanted to see her sister’s dragged into this.

Usually, Azriel would be here with Cassian and me. Usually. It seemed as though Azriel had been getting far in over his head with the middle Archeron sister as of late. I would be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. But, I would never admit that fact out loud. Elain was half here and half not. Whenever she did speak, she’d just spew some crap that didn’t make any sense. But, that didn’t stop Azriel from spending any time he was not preparing for the war, with her.

Azriel. My heart seized at just the mention of his name. I had known the Shadowsinger for centuries. I stood by his side as he faced his own inner turmoil about Rhys being taken from us right under our feet. I stood by him even before that as I watched Windhaven and Devlon try to take was little he had away from him. Really, I had stood by everyone in this Inner Circle. But Azriel, Az was different. This too I would never admit out loud.

It took me holding him one night, after he had dreamt of his hands being lit aflame again, that it snapped. In all his vulnerability, it just, snapped. Az and I had shared a connection, a friendship, and I had loved him far long before the mating bond clicked in place. It only felt right that it was him. But, it hasn’t snapped for him.

It hurt, every single day, it hurt. And to watch him try so hard to make whatever it was happen with Elain, who was mated to someone else, made me feel worthless. This too, was not his fault. How was he supposed to know when I refused to breathe a word of it. Honestly, it might be a good thing, the distance. It hurts, but Azriel deserves happiness. I don’t know if I’m the one who can give him that.

“Damnit Cass!” I grunted as I fought back from his restraint.

“You are letting yourself get sloppy, Y/N. No room for that on the battlefield.” His face was smug. I felt some embarrassment creep up my neck and find its way on my cheeks.

“I know, I know.” I huffed. “Just let me up already.” I gave up on fighting back. Recently I found myself lacking the energy I used to have. I used to be full, driven, but I have found myself distant lately.

“Look, are you sure you’re okay, Y/N? You have not had your head in the game recently.” He stood and held a hand out to me. Cassian only wanted to check on me, it was nice really. I just wasn’t used to it. I had been the one the members of this court had always leaned their heads on. There just seemed to be no room for the others to do the same for me. So, I never asked them to. I wasn’t going to start now.

“I’m fine Cass, just tired.” I retorted.

“Aren’t we all sweet cheeks.” He said as he patted my back.

---

Now

Fire is crackling somewhere near me, but I can’t feel its warmth. I feel myself chained up. My arms were far above my head, hanging me from a support post. My feet had been stripped of their shoes, and now chains wrapped around my ankles. My body hurt, breathing hurt, and my head hurt. I was sure that this hellhole was only going to make it worse.

“Ah, there she is. Glad to see you actual awoke, we were starting to get worried.” Spoke the same general who broke my ribs.

I kept my mouth shut, only glaring at the direction of the voice. My vision was still blurry, and where I hope there was only one of him, I saw three.

The entrance flap of the tent open and closed to reveal another male. This one, I recognized. The King of Hybern himself.

“If it isn’t Y/N of the Night Court. I have to say, my men did a fine job bringing you in here for me. Wouldn’t you say so?” His voice was gruff. “Now that you’re here, we some questions we need answered, and I suggest you do answer them, dear. I’m sure you don’t want to find out what will happen if you don’t cooperate.”

I lazily lifted my head toward the King and sneered. “Try me.” I bit back, my voice laced with venom.

“Oh, I was afraid you’d say something of those sorts.” The king waved in another male, he was in head to toe in black. Something similar to what I’d see our very own Shadowsinger wear. Only this male was no where near the build of Az, but damn, did he look pissed.

The male pulled out a small dagger that was sheathed on their waist and made his way closer to me. I couldn’t help but let a little laugh escape my lips, “Size does matter you know,” I quipped. I know this man was here to interrogate me, but I could not let these people know how truly vulnerable I felt.

“Oh? I beg to differ.” The male stated as he plunged the dagger into the flesh of my calf.

---

Before

Rhys wanted to have a family dinner tonight. It would be the first one in quite a long time. With everything going on, who was to blame anyone? I couldn’t say I was looking forward to it though. I used to love the time I could spend with my family, but now, it wasn’t the same. Not when my family was no longer the same.

Rhys had Feyre, who don’t get me wrong, I love, and I love to see Rhys have the mate he has always deserved. But, with the additions of the Acheron sisters came with something strained. Cass hasn’t said anything, but I see the way he looks at Nesta. Nesta, who wants absolutely nothing to do with him, or any of us for that matter. Mor and Amren hadn’t been around as of late. Both were too busy preparing for this inevitable war. Mor with being an emissary and Amren with working out some logistics of the Cauldron.

And Az. Azriel was no longer seeking me out. No longer spending time in the training ring or the library with me. Instead, he was with Elain.

And then, there was me. Before this family all I was, was alone. Finding this family had saved me in more aspects than one, but I can feel it shifting under my feet, about to give way and take me with the edge of it.

This though, is something I would never speak about. There is enough going on as it is. No one needs to be burdened about me, my unreciprocated feelings for the Shadowsinger, or my silly feelings of insecurity. I’m a friend to the court, a warrior, sometimes an advisor, but, I am nothing compared to the rest of them. I simply do not hold enough importance, and that is something I must live with. Something I am terrified they will realize as well.

I was the last to make it to the table. Cauldron, even Elain is here. And next to Elain was Az. Hazel eyed, messy haired, Az. We caught each other’s eyes. I couldn’t help but let a smile creep up onto my face in greeting, and he smiled back.

I took my seat next to Cass and Amren and looked at the table around me. Even though war was around the corner, it felt good to gather as if nothing was wrong. Conservation started buzzing, everyone started eating, and I drifted off to a place that wouldn’t hurt me.

—-

Now

Sweat is dripping off me in beads. My body is littered with cuts and bruises. But, I didn’t say a word. Not a single word about the size of our armies, not a word about what Rhys and the others had planned, not a word about our allies. Not a word. And I was paying for it.

Gods. They had left me here, giving me a break from the beatings and the torture. Whatever the used must have been laced with faebane because I have never felt this weak. This out of control of myself. I wasn’t healing, and I was still losing blood. At this rate, it wasn’t looking good. I was still hanging from my arms, I’m sure at this point I had a shoulder out of it’s socket. A rustling began again at the entrance of the tent.

“Back for more?” I croaked. My throat was completely dry from the screaming. But, when I got my eyes open enough to see what the cause of the noise was, my heart stopped dead in it’s tracks.

Elain.

---

Before

I retreated from dinner early. As pitiful as it sounds, I couldn’t be around it. I couldn’t stand to see Azriel with her any longer. Not when I knew he was the one who was slowly healing her and ruining me.

Knocking at my bedroom door pulled me from my thoughts and I was looking into a book, not really reading it. “Come in,” I shouted.

The site of Azriel caught me off guard. Once upon a time, it was normal for him to seek me out from my room. Now, it simply wasn’t. I couldn’t help but tense.

“Oh! Az!” I put my book down and stood. “How are you doing?” I smiled up at him.

“You would know if you hadn’t left dinner so early.” He looked down at me, frowning and crossing his arms. It was rare that Az was upset with me.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’m tired after training today.” I gave him a sad smile, not wanting him to push the issue further. “But please, tell me what I missed.”

This somehow made his shadows start to swirl around him and he huffed. “I was telling everyone how much progress Elain had made. She’s having actual conversations now.” He smiled at it, proud.

I tried not to show any hurt on my face. I have no right for this to hurt me. He was helping someone, and I had to be pitiful enough that I was jealous.

“That’s amazing Az, you’ve helped her a lot.” I let another smile grace my face. Before I knew what I was saying it was falling out of my lips, “But, you do realize that she is mated, right?”

Azriel’s demeanor shifted. His shadows became agitated, “Elain is a friend. She is going through a lot, and she needs support.” He sighed, “Plus, I think that cauldron could be wrong.” That sentence alone was enough to rip whatever was left in me to shreds. Why couldn’t he see me?

I had to take a deep breath to keep the silver lining in my eyes in place. “Az, when in your life have you ever seen the cauldron be wrong? Why would it start being wrong now?”

“Look, maybe you’ll understand one day, but it’s wrong about her and Lucien.” He crossed his arms now.

“It sounds like you want to it be wrong. Whether it is, or not.”

Azriel was growing frustrated. His eyebrow ticked and he huffed, “Can you blame me for wanting something more?”

“She is mated Azriel. Off limits.” I tried to stress him. “I don’t want to see you hurt if it doesn’t turn out the way you want.” I sighed. “I wouldn’t want my mate ripped away from me, I’m sure Lucien doesn’t either.” He doesn’t even realize that I’m talking about him. Not a single clue.

“Ripped away? Look Y/N, just because you’re alone, does not mean I have to be. Why are you making this about you?” He nearly snarled at me. Snarled. “I have finally found another purpose other than this war. I have found something, someone, to spend my time with and enjoy.”

His words hit me like an arrow to the chest. Alone. Maybe they all did see me, and they just didn’t care. Why couldn’t I be enough for him? Why hadn’t in all the time and cherished memories we have together be enough. We had held each other in hardship. We had trained together. We had grown together. We had spent countless Starfalls together. We had shared so many laughs and touches. Why wasn’t what we had enough for him?

The weight of Azriel’s words hung in the air, heavy silence settling between us. My heart ached with the sting of his remark, and I fought to keep any of my remaining composure.

I deflated, “Az,” I tried to sigh as he cut me off again.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so insecure, you’d see that I’m just trying to help someone who’s been through a lot. You’re jealous and it’s clouding your judgment.” He stared at me, and I had to look away. I didn’t realize it but I began to shake. I couldn’t tell if it was from rage, or from the way my heart cracked as he spoke.

“I think you should go Az.” My voice began to break, and I could tell that my walls were going to come down. Not once had I ever asked him to leave.

His own eyes softened, and he reached for me, “Wait.”

He tried to continue but I cut him off, “Leave, Azriel.” I turned to face away from him. I gathered my arms together. I couldn’t let him see the tears that were rolling down my face, I wouldn’t.

He pulled his arm back to himself and hesitated, seeing the pain he was causing me. Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing behind with a heavy finality.

---

Now

Elain. What the fuck was she doing here?

Seeing her tore me from my stupor. She acted as if she was in a trance, half there. I was really panicking now. I could take this torture and pain, Elain, I don’t think she would last. I could hardly pull at my restraints at this point.

“Elain! Elain!” I screamed at her, trying to get her attention. One of the males that was hauling her in, left her side and strolled to mine. Next thing I knew I was tasting my own blood in my mouth as his fist met with my face. As the blood welled up in my mouth, I felt rage hit me. I spat at him. His face now coated with the bloody saliva that he caused me.

He wiped his hand over his face, ridding it of its bloody covering. I snarled at him as he drew a blade. Good. This way the focus would stay on me and not Elain. He brought the blade to my face, slicing a thin mark down my cheek. “If you wanted more, you could’ve just asked.” He trailed the blade down my neck, and now to my collar bone, all the while slicing lightly as he went. He brought his lips to my ear and his hand grabbed my face, “I have so much more than just blades and fists in store for you, girl.”

It was almost too hard to stomach. I didn’t want to know what he was alluding to. Elain, do this for Elain. I told myself. I kept silent and he pushed me away, returning to the other male who was already putting Elain into restraints.

Why is she here? Why is she not fighting back?

As they finished with her restraints, Hybern himself walked back into the tent.

“Cauldron be damned, if it’s not also Feyre’s cauldron made sister.” Hybern chuffed, “We are truly going to have such a fun time together.” He chuckled as he looked between Elain and I.

He nodded at his men and they both reach for their knives. One for me. One for Elain.

“Wait!” I blurted as I saw the man move toward Elaine, “Please, leave her unharmed.”

“Hmm,” hummed Hybern, “Now, tell me pretty thing, why would I do that?”

“She’s a Seer. Please, you must leave her unharmed or she will be no use to anyone. She will not come out of any trance if she is harmed.” I didn’t know if what I was blabbing was true. I only knew that I needed to protect Elain, for she could not protect herself.

Hybern nodded again at the male who was at Elain’s side. The male sheathed his blade and I let out a silent sigh.

“You on the other hand,” Hybern turned his attention back on me, “I have some questions about pretty Elain.” A wicked smile reached the lips of the male in front of me, as he lifted his blade threatening. “You, dear Y/N, best answer them.”

The male reached for my shirt and tore it in half. Now leaving my chest and abdomen exposed to the air, only a warrior’s wrap covering my breasts. I gasped at the bite of the air reaching my skin. My abdomen was littered with black and blue bruising from the beatings. The faebane in my system slowing any kind of healing.

I turned my face to a stone grimace. I could do this. I told myself. If nobody comes for you, then surely someone will come for Elain.

That truth hurt almost as much as the torture that I was being put through.

---

Before

It had been about a week since I’d seen Azriel. The bond that used to hum in my chest felt vacant. Rhysand had sent me and Cassian to one of the Illyrian war bands that were positioned in case of an attack.

It was a single flaming arrow that was sent into a tent that set everything into utter chaos. Cassian was in the middle of a meeting with some of the other commanders, and I was in the training ring.

Hybern’s forces hit us as if we were nothing but an anthill in their way.

I don’t know where Cassian was as I fought and fought, until I was brought down.

---

Now

I was hardly holding on. I had no energy to cry out anymore. No energy to even lift my own head up. My abdomen and back was near ribbons after that male drove his blade into me again and again.

Elain had seemed to snap in and out of it. When she was somewhat coherent, she would only cry. I felt bad for her, but I had done what I could do protect her. There wasn’t a single scratch on her.

At thinking of Elain my mind drifted to Azriel. I wonder if he’s looking for me, if not, her.

The inner circle had to know that something was wrong at this point. I only hope that Cassian was also okay after we were ambushed. I’m sure if he wasn’t, he’d be right next to me also receiving the beatings I was.

Blood dripped down my back, creating a small pool under me. I truly didn’t know how much longer I would last. I had never felt weaker in my life.

I should’ve told him that night. Anguish was suffocating me. I found myself retracing everything I did as of late. The way I stole myself away from my family because I was being nothing but pitiful. The way they started to treat me differently. The way one no one would come to me anymore, and I would not go to them. No wonder they have left you here. You are nothing to them. My mind bit at me.

What truly bothered me was the downfall of mine as Azriel’s friendship. He was the one person I could always truly count on. If I had fallen in training, if I had drank too much, if some stupid male had broke my heart, it was always Azriel that had caught me, and me him. It’s why I fell in love with him long before the bond snapped its place into my heart. And now I was going to die without him ever knowing. I was simply going to fade away as my blood pooled underneath me.

It's better this way. I told myself. Elain is unharmed, and I will fade before anyone knows of this bond. The war will be won and Az will be able to move on with someone he finds joy in.

I couldn’t help but let tears run down my face. I wanted to scream, to find some way out, but with the faebane running through me, I was simply too weak.

---

I woke to the sound of rustling at the entrance of the tent. The rustling led to Elain, and I could hear her restraints being messed with. I nearly couldn’t pry my eyes open at the sound. Maybe they would finally take me from my misery. I silently hoped. That’s when I heard a quiet gasp. I looked up to see.. Feyre? And behind her, the one messing with Elain’s chains, Azriel.

My heart lurched to a stop. They had come to help, we were going to get out.

“Azriel..” Feyre quietly said as he brought Elain into his arms.

“What.” He nearly hissed at her. That’s when he looked up and truly saw me.

“Az.. Feyre..” I choked on my words. Help was here. I was going to get out of here. To make it. Finally something positive bloomed in my chest in place of where that hole had found itself.

Azriel set Elain back down and rushed to my side. He put a hand to my cheek, “Y/N, we couldn’t find you anywhere. Cass, he said you were missing after the battle.” His touch sent shivers down my beaten spine.

My restraints still bore heavily into my wrists where I was strung up. Then, there was rustling and yelling coming from outside of the tent.

“Help me down, please.” My voice was raw and pleading.

The yelling was getting closer and closer.

“Az, we have to leave, now.” Feyre said, trying to scoop Elain into her arms.

Azriel’s hand left my cheek, and panic flared into his eyes as he took in my state.

Hybern’s soldiers were coming, realizing something was wrong. Azriel looked between Elain and I, backing up from where I was strung up. He was backing away from me. Why was he backing away from me?

My own panic started to settle deep inside of me, long squashing any hope that had found it’s place.

“Azriel… please,” I coughed quietly. Dread was setting deeply inside of me. They didn’t plan on saving two. They came here for Elain, not me.

A sob found it’s way onto my lips as he picked Elain from Feyre’s arms. Feyre herself looking torn, her eyes expressing so much anguish.

“We will come back Y/N. I promise.” Azriel’s words were yet another punch to the gut.

I couldn’t help but let the sobs I had been holding onto for so long bubble out of me.

“Please don’t leave me here.” I cried, no longer caring for the quietness. They both stiffened at the sound of my voice. “Please,” I was gasping for air as this point, “If you’re not going to take me, then at least put me down.”

Their eyes widened at my statement, but I couldn’t hold for much longer. I needed this pain to end. This suffering to be over with.

“We will be back. I will come straight back.” Azriel hushly stated. His eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes were boring into me. They were trying to convince me he was telling the truth, but I knew better. I knew that they were only getting into the camp once successfully.

They chose Elain. They were going to leave me behind.

“Just kill me, please kill me…” I sobbed, “Please if you are going to leave me behind, then just kill me.”

Feyre was crying now, and Azriel. I knew, that even though he was choosing Elain, Elain to save, and Elain to love, he still wouldn’t harm me.

“I’m so sorry Y/N.” Feyre bubbled out of her crying lips as she quickly left the tent under her cloak.

Azriel and I made eye contact again through my sobbing, through the tears that were leaving my eyes in force. “I will be right back. I will come back for you.” And then, he was gone. With Elain in his arms.

I broke, truly broke. No weapon could hurt me as much as the sight of who I loved most, my mate, leaving me here, strung up and bleeding out.

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #Acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel angst #angst #Azriel x reader angst

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peachdues · 1 month

Text

FAMILY MATTERS

Shinjuro Rengoku x Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Reader

A/N: so uhhh… y’all remember my Red Dress one shot? Well, here’s the continuation of that, except now, it’s Shinjuro’s turn.

There is nothing redeemable about this. It’s pure smut.

CW: MDNI • 7.2k • explicit sexual content below • cucking • breeding • creampie • Kyojuro sets his fiance up tbh but she’s into it • just nasty filth • doggy • rough rug sex • desk sex •

Senjuro ended up departing for a neighbor’s after dinner, and the Rengoku patriarch retired to bed not long after. Though the two of you should have been well on your way home, Kyojuro had gotten distracted.

“I thought of you all through dinner,” his breath is hot against your ear. One hand flips up the skirt of your sundress as the other fumbles with his belt. “How you sat there, talking to my father and brother while my seed leaked out of you.”

“Kyojuro — oh —“ you’re cut off by his bruising, rough kiss. You break away only with a sharp gasp as your fiance’s practiced fingers drag over the lacy seam of your underwear, your hips bucking into his touch. His mouth only slopes messily down your neck. Kyojuro growls into your skin in approval at the wetness he finds between your legs — a mixture of his cum and your renewed arousal.

“You drive me wild,” the leather around his hips gives way, and his fingers are nimble as they unfasten the top button of his pants.

You can’t hide the way your mouth runs dry, or how your thighs unconsciously press together as Kyojuro pulls his stiffened cock free. A thrill flutters in your stomach at the thought of getting on your knees before him and offering your mouth for his use. That excitement is doubled at the prospect of being inside your future father-in-law’s study, a place you wouldn’t have dared to venture had Kyojuro not led you here by the hand.

But that arousal grinds to a sharp halt when Kyojuro’s fingers curl under the edge of your underwear and yank them down your legs. A quick rustle of fabric indicates he’s shoved them into the pocket of his loosened pants, for safe-keeping.

Kyojuro gives himself a firm pump before lining himself up with your entrance.

“This is — Kyo — your father’s study —“

“I’m aware.” With one mighty thrust of his hips, he forces himself to the hilt inside you. “Keep quiet, my Flame.”

Once he’s confirmed that your hand is braced steadily behind you on the rich mahogany of his father’s desk, Kyojuro pulls back, his fingers deftly pushing the straps of your sundress from your shoulders. He tugs the bodice down to your waist and your breasts pebble at the sudden exposure to the warm air of the home office.

Kyojuro hums at the sight of the marks he’d left behind; the way the light from the fire dances across your exposed skin.

He begins with shallow thrusts that grow deeper, more forceful with every passing moment. Before long, you’re forced to smother your whimpers against the thick curve of his shoulder, your fingers curling under the edge of the desk as it rocks and creaks with his movements.

“Fuck, my love,” Kyojuro groans into your hair. “God, you feel too fucking good to stop.”

He must be desperate, you decide, given the way he steadily lets his weight fall into you until you’re forced back against the flat surface of the desk. If you weren’t too busy muffling your sounds of pleasure by burying your teeth into your bottom lip, you would’ve smiled. Kyojuro was so adorable when he was like this; when he gave into his more base desires to rut fast and deep.

Your fiance quiets his own euphoria by sealing his mouth against your throat. His moans rumble across your skin, chased by alternating flicks of his tongue nips of his teeth His hands grip you firmly by your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, anchoring you to him as he pushes faster and deeper into you.

A floorboard nearby creaks, but neither of you notice; you’re too enraptured in one another, your body already thrumming with a need for more that hot, saltiness you can’t help but crave that you know Kyojuro won’t be able to resist giving you.

Thank goodness for the card of neat little pills waiting on your nightstand at home; though you’d likely be pushing your luck, you’re optimistic that your fiancé will give you his fill and still get you back in time for you to take your birth control.

Kyojuro tears his mouth away from your neck and straightens, his nails digging into your hips as he jerks you to meet his bruising thrusts.

“What do you think, Father?” Kyojuro’s jovial tone makes you freeze and the sweat which has begun to cling to your skin turns cold. “Is the view better than you imagined?”

Instantly you jolt up, clinging to Kyojuro’s massive frame in an effort to keep yourself concealed.

A dismissive scoff sounds from a distant corner of the study. “It certainly isn’t worse.”

Dread curdles in your stomach as Kyojuro’s father steps out of the shadows. His face is hard and severe, even as he draws closer to the fireplace adjacent to his desk, the light of the flames offering no warmth.

You begin to squirm against Kyojuro, who is bewilderingly still buried snugly inside your warmth. Your anxious little taps against his chest, his shoulders, however, do nothing to spur him into action, no matter how you urge him away.

“Now, now, my Flame,” your fiancé tuts, quelling your protests with a warning thrust, shallow, but firm enough to cease your squirming. “You cannot deny you’ve been tempting him.”

Across the richly manicured office, the elder Rengoku’s eyes burn in silent agreement.

“In fact, I seem to recall you mentioning how fuckable you thought he still was.”

Your mouth falls open in horror. Not only was it an exaggeration of what you’d actually said (he could still get it, don’t you think?), but you’d said it to tease Kyojuro. In private.

“And I think we both know this little dress of yours was intentional. You know how we love red.”

Shane burns in your cheeks. You did. You’d worn the red sundress to bait your fiancé, but you’d also done it knowing the significance of the color red in the Rengoku family. And while your comment about the fuckability of the family’s patriarch had mostly been lighthearted, some part of you had always been curious.

Perhaps Kyojuro was right; maybe you’d been enticing the senior Rengoku just as much as you had his son.

But there’s a faint tinge of jealousy in Kyojuro’s tone that has your heart thumping madly against your sternum. It’s the kind he rarely showed even when you were openly flirted with in front of him, whether the two of you were out on a romantic dinner or simply running errands together. A sort of dominance that only ever manifested when Kyojuro perceived a threat — a person whose eyes lingered too long, or when someone simply got too close for comfort.

It is that possessive anger which shows now that his competition is his own father. Perhaps he is hoping the elder will be exactly that — an old man, limited in his age and unable to satisfy you the way Kyojuro knows how. Though, from your blushing once-over of Shinjuro’s form where he waits across the study, you quietly think perhaps Kyojuro has underestimated his father. While he may indulge in his stash of fine alcohol too often, Shinjuro remains agile as ever, his body, strong.

Your curiosity flames, lashing at you until it can no longer be ignored. For every way Kyojuro’s personality contrasted heavily with his father’s, you could not help but wonder whether that opposition continued in other areas. Namely, the way Kyojuro’s switch flipped the second you got him alone, riled up and heated was in diametric opposition to his ordinarily warm and sweet disposition.

Because, no matter how gentle and kind and warm Kyojuro was, rile him up enough and he turned into a downright fiend when left alone with you.

Shinjuro, in contrast, was anything but sunny and cheerful. At best, he was a crass old man with a habit of letting alcohol loosen his already too loose tongue. Assuming consistency was a variable in play, perhaps that meant he would be softer; more gentle.

Despite your embarrassment at having been discovered, you cannot deny your own longing.

Kyojuro grinds once more into you before withdrawing from your heat entirely. You wince at the loss of his warmth, fingers clawing at air to bring him back, to cover you with the safety of his body once more, but he only steps aside.

“If you’re gonna fuck in my house, little girl, then you’re gonna have to abide by my rules.” Shinjuro’s voice carries that deadly sort of authority you’d only ever heard him assert when dealing with business, and it’s severe enough that you find your spine straightening in answer. “And I believe in sharing.”

Your mouth falls open as though you have any basis to protest when you’ve been caught red-handed, but Shinjuro cuts you off.

“That’s my rule from now on.” He looks to his son. “You fuck her in my house, then it’s free use. That includes your brother, once he’s an adult. Don’t like it? keep it in your fuckin’ pants.”

Shinjuro’s attention slides back to you, and a sharp flutter shoots through the pit of your stomach at the leering desire in his eyes. “And I don’t care if you’re here visiting with your future kids. I’ll fuck you once they’re asleep.“

Any cautious optimism you had that Shinjuro might embrace the softer side of intimacy flew right out the delicately arched window of his study.

And yet, your curiosity lingers.

Hesitantly, you lower your eyes and see the rigid bulge straining against the seat of his pants. It looks almost identical to Kyojuro’s, but from your quick assessment, it seems his father boasts a greater thickness.

The thought of how that thickness might feel, buried inside your makes, makes your mouth go dry.

Warm, gentle fingers catch your chin. “Only if you want to.”

It is a whisper only meant for you to hear, and suddenly, some of your anxiety eases. You know, by the burning sincerity in his eyes, that if this truly was beyond your realm of comfort, Kyojuro would cut it off without you needing to even utter your safe word.

With a light gulp, you nod, the movement almost as imperceptible as Kyojuro’s eyes become unreadable. But he says nothing more; instead, Kyojuro merely steps away, leaving no barrier between you and his father. Predator and prey.

Self-consciousness has your arm jumping to lock itself over your chest, a futile attempt to conceal what has already been exposed.

Shinjuro stalks silently across the rug, drawing short of where you’re still spread atop the edge of his desk. The shadows dancing along the walls of his study do not conceal the way his tongue flicks out from between his lips, moistening them, the longer he stares between your parted thighs. You clench around nothing under the heat of Shinjuro’s gaze, and his eyes narrow like he knows.

Some of that burning desire tempers as Shinjuro’s eyes flick to your face. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

The abruptness of the question catches you off guard, and you’re shaking your head before you remember to demand why he’s asking in the first place.

Shinjuro’s eyes harden. “You’ve had the nerve to fuck this girl under my roof and you still haven’t knocked her up?” He scoffs, turning his attention back to his son. “I impregnated your mother the first time I brought her here. Have you no shame?”

A quiet anger simmers in Kyojuro’s eyes. “She’s on birth control.”

“No fuckin’ excuse,” Shinjuro pushes past his eldest, his eyes locked between your thighs, still spread wide. “The Rengoku family is known for its virility. You’ve embarrassed that legacy. Go sit down.”

Wordlessly, Kyojuro backs away, his anger burning hotly on his face. He crosses to one of the great, stuffed leather armchairs to the side of the hearth where the fire roars and settles in, his eyes bright.

Shinjuro turns his ire back to you. “You see that ring on your finger? The one paid for with our family’s money?” And your eyes drop to the beautiful engagement ring sitting on your left hand, placed there by Kyojuro. “That’s not just a gift, sweetheart. Deal was you get the ring and you give this family your womb.”

Some fiery, rebellious part of you balks at that, overtakes your own common senses. “The wedding is still a few months away.”

“You think that fuckin’ matters? That ring means you’re part of this family, little girl. And being in this family means pulling your weight.”

He reaches for you then, and it takes a concentrated amount of effort to not flinch away from him, no matter how wetness pools between your legs.

Shinjuro’s fingers curl around your forearm, tugging it away to expose your breasts.

“Not bad.” He clicks his tongue. He palms one in his hand, rolling it, pinching it between rough yet warm fingers, as though testing it. With an alarming swiftness, the tension in your limbs eases, your body turning pliant and supple under his touch, confident and knowing. The faint moans trembling in your throat under your future-in-law’s inspections quickly choke off with a yelp as Shinjuro gives one tit a firm slap.

He smirks. “They’ll be better once you’re good and fat with a kid. What, with your milk and all.” He closes his eyes and shudders. “So fuckin’ sweet. I couldn’t get enough of it with Rukka.”

Shinjuro jerks his head at Kyojuro where he settles into the great leather armchair by the mantle. “He’ll like it, too. Little degenerate, just like his old man.”

He fondles you once more, pulling a small whimper from you that makes him smirk. Shinjuro eyes one of the hickeys near the top of your nipple, left behind by Kyojuro’s earlier attentions and with a faint sneer, he flicks it.

You gasp and arch into him, goosebumps skittering along your skin and you quietly present yourself for more. The way he continues to palm you — rolling each breast in his hand, testing its weight — leaves you with the distinct impression that you’re little more than some prized brooding mare and he, your inspector. That feeling is only amplified when Shinjuro suddenly grabs your hips and forces you back against his desk, maneuvering your body in different positions to see how you bend.

“Arches her back nicely,” he remarks casually, as though discussing something as tepid as the weather. “Feels flexible, too. But none of that means shit if she’s not fertile.”

Shinjuro steps back, his hands planted on his hips, expectant. “Let’s see what we’re working with, girl. On the floor,” When you don’t move, too frozen atop the desk and uncertain of what he’s asking, he nods at the rug. “Go on — present yourself for me. Need to inspect the goods.”

With shaking legs, you lower yourself off the desk. Cheeks flushed with heat, you cast one last, anxious glance at your fiancé. Kyojuro, however, says nothing, his eyes boring into yours as he waits.

You’re doing this; you’re actually doing this. You are willingly lowering yourself to the great, ornate rug sprawled across the floor of the study, knees first, and then your hands, followed by your forearms.

Your heart hammers away at your chest as you wait, ass held high in the air, your cunt on open display. A soft thump of a body lowering itself behind you is followed by rough fingers that spread your ass cheeks, forcing your thighs to shift and widen. The faintest tickle of warm breath fans over your heated, drooling center, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying out in desperation.

“Pretty little pussy,” Shinjuro hums with faint appreciation. Two, thick fingers swipe harshly through your dampened folds, spreading your wetness from your clit to your entrance. “Glad he at least knows how to get you warmed up. You’re fucking soaked.”

His fingers circle your opening, pressing against it just enough to make you squirm into the rug, but not enough to alleviate the nearly painful way your cunt continues to flutter and clench around nothing.

“How does she take it — oh,” you can hear Shinjuro’s leering smirk as he slips his finger inside your fluttering entrance. “Sucked me right in. Least she knows what to do when she’s got somethin’ in her.”

He pumps another finger lazily into you as you moan your encouragement. “Does she taste as sweet as she smells?” Shinjuro’s voice is faintly hoarse as he addresses his son.

There’s a pause that seems to stretch on for an eternity. “Sweeter.” Comes Kyojuro’s answer, strained, though you cannot see his face from where his father has crowded you into the rug. “Father —“

“I ain’t gonna taste her.” Shinjuro brushes off your fiancé’s warning, flippant. “Don’t need to. She’s ready for a good breeding, I can tell just by the smell of her.” A sharp slap of a hand against your sex pulls a yelp from you, and yet you can’t stop from wiggling your hips in a silent plea for more. “But you have failed your duty in bringing about the next generation of our family. You both have.”

There’s a rustle of clothing behind you followed by the distinct click of a belt buckle. “So I’m correcting it.”

Shinjuro’s fingers find your clit again, his quiet signal that he is addressing you even though he turns your brain to mush beneath his expert touch. “Looks like I’ve gotta show my boy how to properly breed a woman, since he’s yet to put his brat in you.”

Your stomach clenches. If not for Shinjuro’s leg wedged thickly between yours, keeping you spread for him, you would’ve pressed your thighs together in anticipation.

Shinjuro shifts behind you, pushing his pants down past his knees. Your curiosity is too great to resist, and slyly, you throw a glance over your shoulder, eager to see if your predictions about the Rengoku patriarch’s endowments ring true.

Before you can confirm, a rough, demanding hand ensares itself in your hair. With a hard shove, Shinjuro forces your head down, deepening the arch in your back. Behind you, Kyojuro makes some faint noise of discontent at his father’s roughness with you, but he does not interfere.

“I can only assume it’s ‘cause he’s not fuckin’ you properly. That’s what happens when you spread your legs for boys. They don’t know what you need.” He lines his tip up with your entrance. “Need a man to fuck you right.”

With a single, deep thrust, Kyojuro’s father bottoms out inside you.

He does not bother to give you time to adjust to him; he’s moving before you manage to choke out a small sound of surprise, one that’s lost to the fierce smacking of skin meeting skin.

“You need to— fuck — her — like — this —“ Shinjuro grinds out, each word punctuated with a sharp slap of his pelvis against your rear. The fat of your ass jiggles with every lurid thrust, and the elder Rengoku’s balls — heavy and full of cum that you know he’s going to insist on unloading inside you — smacks against your clit in time with his movements.

A responsive moan vaguely registers to your right, and with great effort, you turn your head toward the sound, eyes squinting through the stray strands of hair that have fallen over your face.

You spy Kyojuro, seated in the great leather armchair by the study’s fireplace. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are bright as he watches where his father appears and disappears into your body. In his hand is his cock. Its tip matches the color of his lips, parted as he pants against the languid pumps of his fist.

Shinjuro must catch sight of his son too, and it only spurs him to move faster; harder. “You like looking at her while she gets fucked, don’t you?”

You crane your neck further to watch for your fiancé’s answer, but a pointed slam of Shinjuro’s cock deep into your warmth forces your eyes back into your head. The stretch from him is incredible and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, even with Kyojuro; a burning fullness that is almost as uncomfortable as it is pleasurable.

Kyojuro must nod, for his father only scoffs in dismissal.

“Yeah, I see why. She’s a pretty fuckin’ thing, isn’t she?” A harsh slap of his hand against your ass nearly sends you jolting forward. “Bet you treat her like a little princess; too delicate to handle a good pounding.”

If you weren’t so fixated on the way your breasts scrape against the coarse rug beneath you in a dizzying blend of pain-tinged pleasure, you might have laughed. Kyojuro was an adventurous lover, and a considerate one at that. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to pin you down and fuck you when you wanted him to. Though, even Kyojuro’s roughest moments did not compare to the way his father now brutally fucked you into the floor of his study, his cock fat and heavy; as hard as steel.

Unlike Kyojuro, there is nothing loving about this; no tenderness. Shinjuro’s movements are nothing more than pure domination. He is not demanding your submission; he is forcing it.

The conversation between father and son is accompanied by a score of wet, sticky slaps of Shinjuro’s hips against your ass and the tiny little oh! oh! ohs! that you whimper into the rug. You soon find it impossible to fix your gaze on anything other than the diamond sitting delicately on your left ring finger; the way it glints and shines in the firelight as your fiancé’s father fucks you harder into the floor.

“That’s where you’ve gone wrong, boy. Fertile little things like this don’t want to romanced.” One broad, rough hand snaked up your spine to grip the nape of your neck, pushing your head down hard into the rug. “They want to be used.”

Shinjuro laughs, a harsh, jeering sound. “Just wanna be fucked stupid, isn’t that right?” His fingers tighten around your neck, commanding your attention despite the way he’s fucking your brain numb. “You just want someone to pump a baby into you. You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?”

The skin of your kneecaps burn from the way they scrape against the rug under your future in-law’s unyielding pace, and it’s because of that stinging pain that you’re able to ground yourself enough to manage a single, jerky nod of your head.

“Tch. Then why are you on birth control?” Shinjuro growls between vicious, forceful thrusts, his pelvis slapping hard against your backside. “You holding out on this family?”

Shinjuro draws nearly all the way out before he slams back into you, the blunt head of his cock bullying right up against your sweet spot. A slew of profanities pour from your mouth into the rug below, and your toes curl violently as he shifts his hips forward and keeps himself pressed right against it, stilling his movements.

You want to howl; he’s pushed right against the most sensitive part inside your body, one that Kyojuro knows will have you making a mess of both yourself and him after only a few grazes. And yet, his father, the bastard that he is, has the head of his cock jammed right against it, with seemingly no inclination of moving anytime soon.

Nor does he seem to care how you writhe and whimper into his rug, either. Your legs vibrate against the floor, and your hips move of their own volition, desperate for relief, but Shinjuro’s hold on your neck strengthens.

It’s torture and he must know it. “Answer me.”

“Not ready!” You gasp, your hands balling into fists against the carpet, your nails biting into your palms as the throbbing deep in your cunt becomes nearly excruciating. “We said — ngh — we said we weren’t ready yet!”

You cry out at the sting of a hand smacking hard at your ass. “You’re marrying into an old family, sweetheart.” Shinjuro spanks you again, and tears spring into your eyes. Yet, despite the pain, you only throw your hips back, desperate for more. “Money ain’t a concern. Your job is to birth the next generation of Rengokus.”

Despite his admonition, Shinjuro resumes his movements, easing back into his previous pace as though he hadn’t paused to start. You nearly cry out in relief, your hips circling and grinding against him for more, just more.

“Doesn’t matter, now. Don’t worry, you pretty little thing. You’ll be begging me to put a son in you soon enough. But until then —“ a rough, bruising hand snakes its way into your hair, balling it between his fingers. Shinjuro jerks hard on your head before he mashes it into the rug below, your cheek chafing against the rough carpet. “I don’t want to hear a damn word out of you. My son needs to be taught a lesson.”

Your eyes strain to seek out your fiance once more. Kyojuro’s blush has deepened to a fierce crimson, though his eyes darken at the way his father shoves you down into the floor.

Kyojuro is a passionate lover; while he can and does fuck you hard, he always keeps well behind the line between rough sex and cruelty. His father, it seems, toes that boundary far more closely. You can tell this bothers your beloved fiance by the hard set of his jaw and the wait his teeth grit together.

And yet, as the noises pouring from your mouth out of you slide from high-pitched, breathy whimpers to deep, sultry moans, and the study fills with pointed wet schlicking sound as the Rengoku patriarch continues fucking you without mercy, Kyojuro does not interject.

His hand only tightens around his cock; the tempo of his movements, only growing in speed.

Shinjuro’s grip on your neck loosens before his hand pulls back to rejoin the other at your hips. A low whistle blows past his lips. “If only you could see the way she’s creamin’ all over me, Kyojuro — filthy thing loves being used.”

He grunts appreciatively as he jerks you back to meet his rapid movements. “Does she always make this mess on you?”

A deep, rumbling groan is Kyojuro’s only answer, and his father chuckles.

“I figured. Look at her, suckin’ me in like this. Practically beggin’ me to fuck a child into her.”

A sharp smack cuts through the air like a knife, the skin of your ass stinging as Shinjuro cocks his hand back and spanks you again. Harder and harder he rides you, and the bruising ache blooming between your thighs is one you know you’ll feel for days.

Shinjuro’s next thrust is forceful enough that it lays him nearly flat against your back, his chest heavy and hot, dampened with sweat. The coarse hair covering his sternum scrapes at your shoulders as the elder Rengoku tightens his hold on your hips.

“You picked a ripe one, Kyojuro, I’ll give you that. Pretty little cunt like this was meant to be filled.” A hand winds under you, and Shinjuro’s palm presses flat against your lower belly. “With hips like this, she was made to give this family more sons.”

“Pussy is even better pregnant.” Shinjuro declares to no one in particular, his whiskey-tinged breath hot against your ear. “All the hormones and shit. Makes things tighter. Wetter.” You twitch violently into him as his thumb glides harshly over your clit. “More sensitive too. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“You want her pregnant, don’t you, Kyojuro?” And before his son can answer, Shinjuro snorts. “Yeah, you do. Bet you’ve even beat off to the image of it — her all fat and swollen with a kid, tits leaking, pussy sweeter than wine. I know I would.”

Beads of sweat roll down the thick planes of Shinjuro’s chest and abdomen, staining your back. Each jolt of his body into yours produces a wet thwap that joins the lewd squelching your cunt as it gushes around his cock, as his body suctions to yours.

Teeth, sharp and brutal, nip harshly at your neck. “I like to think I’ve spoiled my boys, Y/N.” Your future in-law growls lowly in your ear. “They may not agree. But they didn’t want for nothin’. And I still like to indulge ‘em, every now and again.”

Shinjuro’s rough hand reaches under you to palm at your tits. “You love being a big brother, don’t you, Kyojuro? How about I put a new baby brother in your fiancé’s womb for ya? How’s that for a gift?”

You clench hard, your stomach nearly convulsing at how tightly you grip onto the thick cock bullying relentlessly into you right as Kyojuro looses a great, cracked moan.

“What my boy wants, he gets.” Shinjuro sounds so casual as he peels himself off you, straightening back up on his knees. One hand moves to press down on your lower back, deepening the arch of your spine until your ass returns to its position high in the air.

His grip on your hips tightens with bruising force as he resumes jerking you back to meet his movements. “You ready to beg yet, sweetheart? You gonna let me breed this tight little cunt? Give your fiancé a new brother to spoil?”

You hardly recognize any of the sounds pouring out of you, unable to concentrate on anything but the way the ache in your groin deepens, your desperate need to be filled becoming damn near painful.

Behind you, Shinjuro chuffs through gritted teeth. “Yeah, you’d like that, huh? You’d love walking around, plump and round with your father-in-law’s bastard, wouldn’t ya? It’d be your dirty little secret.”

There’s a frenzy to his movements now, the more Shinjuro becomes lost in his own fantasy. His balls slap harshly against your clit, the coarse thicket of his hair scraping against your raw flesh as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten. “Everyone would see you and my boy together and think such lovely things; a new family starting out. No one would know — no one would guess that you were pregnant because of how much you like bending over for your fiancé’s old man to let him breed you like the sow you are.”

The image of it — of you, attending some fancy gala with Kyojuro, happy and glowing while his father’s baby grows steadily in your stomach — has you throwing your hips back, circling and grinding with a desperation that makes your fiancé’s father laugh, harsh and bitter.

The sound only makes you clench harder around him. God, you need it; him, of all fucking people.

Shinjuro.

“Please, please, please —!” The request rolls freely off your tongue before you can think the better of it. Across the room, Kyojuro cries out, as wanton and desperate as you.

“Please,” Shinjuro mocks. “Please what?”

“A baby — give me a baby, please! Oh please please —“

“You want to give me another son, huh? Fucking mine isn’t enough for you?”

“Yes!” You sob, the skin of your cheek burning where it mashes against the rug, but you’re far too gone to care. “A son, please, oh please put a son in me! I want to be good, let me be good —“

You’ll do it, you’ll give the Rengoku family as many heirs as they need to know your worth; to know that Kyojuro made the right choice when he got down on one knee and presented you with a ring worth more than your own salary.

“Bout damn time you see things our way,” Shinjuro growls, and he shifts forward, planting one foot by your knee. “I’ll stuff you full.”

He bends over you again, his chest forcing your back to flatten, and you nearly drool at the coarse prickle of chest hair where it rubs between your shoulders.

The scent of woodsmoke and fine whisky clouds your head. “Tell me, do you think my son will still fuck you even while you’re carrying his brother?” Shinjuro’s eyes dart to where Kyojuro sits, his head thrown back and thighs spread wide as he pumps himself, a deep, drawn-out moan rumbling in his chest.

Shinjuro conceals his grin against the side of your head, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Yeah,” he chuckles. “Yeah, I think he will. Your pussy’s too fuckin’ sweet to resist, isn’t that right, Kyojuro?”

“Yes.” Comes Kyojuro’s single reply, little more than a strained groan.

It’s too much; the obvious need in your fiancé’s voice coupled with the way his father so ruthlessly pumps into you, his cock stretching and filling you so perfectly as he hammers away all the right spots forces your eyes back into your head, your fingers clawing at the rug chafing your skin raw. The pressure in your stomach mounts until you feel almost ready to burst, every inch of you trembling as you wait for that familiar coil to spring.

Shinjuro swears lowly, once, sensing just how close you are to breaking apart, before he recovers.

“Just think, boy.” He calls out to his son, his voice boastful despite how he clenches his jaw. “Once her milk comes in, we won’t have to take turns having a taste. All we gotta do is sit her between us and each take a tit. Fun little father-son bonding. Whaddya say?”

Your eyes fly open. The image of it — of you straddled between the two Rengokus, both mouthing hotly at your swollen, aching breasts while your stomach sits round and full with a child that might have been fathered by one as much as the other — is your undoing.

Somewhere in the depths of the Rengoku ancestral estate, Kyojuro’s brother sleeps. You can only hope that his slumber remains peaceful, given the loud, cracked scream that rips free from you, burning your throat as your climax slams into you like a freight.

The coil in your stomach does not unwind; it explodes, blows apart in a mess of shrapnel capped with prolonged cry as your walls squeeze around your lover’s father’s thick, demanding cock.

“Oh fuck, she’s good,” Shinjuro throws his head back, eyes rolling into his head at the way your cunt seizes around him like a vice. “Harder, Y/N. Your father in law wants you to cum fuckin’ harder.”

One hand unlatches itself from its bruising grip at your hip, curling under you. Shinjuro pinches your clit firmly between the roughened pads of his fingers and your stomach seizes. A violent spasm of hot, searing pleasure rips sharply through your groin, sparking gush of sticky fluid to spring forth and coat the rug below.

“Daddy!” You cry out, too fucked out of your mind to fully register what has escaped your mouth; the slip you’ve made.

Daddy is reserved for Kyojuro — and under specific circumstances. Only after you’d been your most difficult, your most rotten, such that Kyojuro knew you were baiting him, waiting for him to pin you down and give you exactly what you wanted and set you right. Only after you were looking up at him through glassy eyes, so unbelievably fucked out of your head did the word Daddy ever leave your lips.

In a way, you suppose those conditions were present here. After all, it was your fiance who suggested you’d pranced around the Rengoku ancestral estate in your red dress to frustrate both him and his father. And Shinjuro is, in fact, fucking you halfway to hell and back, your brain having nearly liquified in your skull.

So really, he can’t fault you for getting your wires crossed.

“Daddy! Fuck — oh fuck, yes, yes, Daddy, daddy —!”

Kyojuro moans back in response, and that single sound — a ragged, pleasure-delirious thing — only makes you clamp down harder around his father’s thick cock.

“Yeah,” Shinjuro snorts, his laugh dark and cruel. “Yeah, I’m your fuckin’ daddy, aren’t I?”

You continue to howl for him until your voice gives out, quieting down in time with the slow ebbing of your climax, your body turning limp limb by limb. When the last of your orgasm echoes through you, you nearly collapse prostrate into the rug. You would have, if not for the bruising grip of hands latched firmly to your hips, keeping you in place.

You’re only permitted to relax for a moment before Shinjuro decides it’s time for him to make good on his oath to fuck a son into you.

A single, long draw of his hips nearly pulls his cock free of your sopping heat. But before that can happen, Shinjuro’s fingers dig into the fleshy part above your waist and without warning, he slams back into you, hard and brutal.

Air wheezes out of your lungs and you’re forced out of your post-orgasm haze, yanked right from the clouds of bliss and dropped back in the study as he repeats the movement once, twice.

You scramble to find purchase, your arm flailing out before you as you scramble to find purchase. Before you can, however, one rough, callused hand wraps firmly around your bicep, holding you down against the floor. The other snakes to your wrist and wrenches that arm behind your back, pinning it in place at the bottom of your spine.

And Shinjuro fucks you. Hard. Even more so than before.

You’re utterly at his mercy; little more than a toy, bouncing between his body and the floor of his sprawling study as Shinjuro chases his release. Your legs will be rubbed raw with friction, both from the rug beneath your knees and your hamstrings where Shinjuro’s thighs press firmly into yours, his hair as coarse and wild as what grows from his head.

Behind you, the elder Rengoku’s breaths have turned ragged.

“Hold her — fuck — hold her down like this when you cum.”

Whereas Kyojuro’s climaxes are always accompanied by loud, strangled groans, euphoric and lilting, Shinjuro comes with a deep, snarling grunt. With a final, bruising thrust, fiancés father-bottoms out inside you. His hips shove heavily into yours, pushing hard against your ass as he presses his cock as deep as possible. The force of it bends your spine, making Shinjuro distribute half his weight between his hips and his arms where he holds you down. He comes as powerfully as he’d claimed you, his orgasm every bit as punishing and relentless as the rest of him.

Your eyes roll back into your head at the first spurt of his cum, your mouth falling open. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth, trickling down your cheek and dampening the fibers of the rug.

Deep; your father-in-law’s cock is so fucking deep in you, his cum hot and thick as it coats your womb. Distantly, you hear the pleasured cry of Kyojuro as he reaches his own climax, his seed spilling hot and fast over his fist as he watches his father unload himself inside you.

“Feel me pulsing, doll?” Shinjuro grits through clenched teeth. “That’s me puttin’ our next heir in you.”

The only response you can manage is a faint moan. It takes a moment for you to feel it; the tell-tale gush of cum that always leaks out of you after you’ve been filled, tangible proof of how thoroughly you’d been claimed. And it strikes you that the delay is the result of how deep inside of you Shinjuro had been when he came.

Deeper, you silently concede, albeit begrudgingly, than Kyojuro has ever reached.

But then it comes; a thick trickle of hot fluid spilling over where your bodies are connected, Shinjuro’s balls twitching against your throbbing clit as he continues to unload himself inside you. Dizzy with the pleasure of feeling his cum, so warm and viscous, you cant your hips back into his, mewling your gratitude.

Full; you’re so very full of your father-in-law’s cock and cum. So very sated.

There’s a triumphant exhale behind you, and you don’t need to turn to know Shinjuro wears that self-satisfied smirk of his, the one he always had whenever he successfully trounced his son in front of an audience. His hand releases its crushing grip on the wrist he’d pinned behind your back in favor of rubbing your ass where it circles against his base, though whether it’s out of appreciation for you or a further brag to his son, you can’t say.

The elder Rengoku holds himself in place for a moment longer, ensuring every last drop of his seed is properly deposited into your waiting womb. Only when he’s satisfied nothing remains, does he pull out, not bothering to give you any warning as your body spasms and winces at the loss of his warmth.

The air at your back turns cool, no longer invaded by his lumbering body. A chill snakes down your spine at the sudden draftiness of the study as the sweat glistening along your back and staining your dress cools. Some of your awareness — and your contempt — returns to you as the spell cast over you by Shinjuro dissipates. You focus on each muscle of your body, identifying what you’re still able to love as you prepare to push yourself up from the floor, when two, broad hands latch around your waist.

Shinjuro cares not for your small whimpers and whines as he forces you to turn around on your raw knees, not letting you rest until your rear faces Kyojuro.

“There, that’s a properly bred pussy,” Shinjuro announces with a not-so-gentle smack of his hand against your swollen, dripping folds. “Take a look, son.”

A derisive snort shoves its way through your nose. Of course, it isn’t enough for Shinjuro to have fucked his son’s fiance right in front of him; now he has to show off his work.

But do you resist? Of course not, nor does Kyojuro protest, panting as he comes down from his own high where he sits near the fireplace.

“See that?” Two rough fingers catch a thick bead of Shinjuro’s cum as it slides down your inner thigh. “You want a baby? Don’t let a single drop go to waste. Fingers or your cock, it doesn’t matter — just make sure it stays inside.”

You focus on calming your own breathing, relief settling into your bones as Shinjuro pulls his hand away at last.

A moment passes, undisturbed except for the labor of your mutual breathing, when Shinjuro breaks the silence once more.

“But I’m gonna let you fuck my seed back into her.”

And with that, he leaves you crumpled helplessly on the floor, departing only with a sharp smack to your ass, still held high in the air.

He motions for Kyojuro to move and confounding, his son complies, half-jumping out of the leather armchair in his haste, his pants around his knees. Wordlessly, Shinjuro settles into his seat, one arm folded behind his head, his bicep bulging while his other hand wraps around his drooling cock, still hard and shiny with the combination of your cum and his.

“Go on, boy,” the elder Rengoku juts his chin to where you lay limp on the floor, your red dress pulled down bunched around your waist. He gives himself a firm pump with his fist and his mouth settles into a leering smirk. “Show me what you’ve learned.”

I’ll see you all in hell

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kyojuro rengoku #shinjuro rengoku #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny rengoku #kny kyojuro #kny shinjuro #kny smut #demon slayer smut #rengoku smut #rengoku x reader #rengoku shinjuro #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #shinjuro x reader

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misserabella · 1 year

Text

sick love

perv! ellie williams x fem! reader

pt2

synopsis; you catch your best friend ellie touching herself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns her on even more. if only you knew she had been dreaming about this moment for her entire fucking life and that she has even planned for it to happen…

cw; really perv!ellie, dark themes, somnophilia (if you squint), breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom ellie for the first part but dominant on the end, p in v sex, cum eating, masturbation (ellie), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, slight stalking? (only if you really really squint), hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

‘Use me. Use me...’

Ellie was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really pervert way. Her sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and her, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were nowhere to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you’d invited Ellie for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. She found herself staring for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been sharing, her eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? She didn’t even remember how her panties had gotten that fucking soaked nor how her hand had ended inside her pants, palm slick in precum as her fingers thrusted inside her slick cunt, bottom lip in between her teeth and soft moans and groans scaping her lips. But she didn’t care. She came so hard that night that she swore she saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, she of course felt awkward and embarrassed of herself around you. Masturbating to her sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when she found herself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

She relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against her neck, your tits fully pressed to her chest and whimpers making her pussy drool, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for her to stop as she beat the shit out of them.

She liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of her, she wouldn’t have it. She sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up, so she always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to herself. Like it had to be. You were hers, or you’ll be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” her shrugging even when she knew that she was, in fact, the thug. Then, she’d go back to her house and open the last drawer of her desk — which she had under key— and take the same chapstick out of her pocket to push it inside along with the other things she had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

She loved them. She almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… She loved the ones that she stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch she would push against her nose and lick as she fucked herself. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove her crazy.

Another thing Ellie loved to do was take photos of you. She had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. She loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But she also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for her. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. She even had one of you resting asleep on her lap, lips parted and against her clothed cunt. She saved some of them on her wallet in case she ever had to take care of herself when she hung out with you.

She was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to her porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to her cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of her infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case she ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if she ever felt lonely in her empty house. At first, before her infatuation appeared, she would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for her to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now she snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. She had licked her cum out of your fingers when she had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in her moans and whimpers. Other nights, she would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push her head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as her hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish her head.

She loved it when you played with her hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when she’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at her for using your good conditioner after a pool day. She was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, smelling you on her skin to fuck herself while she showered in your house.

She would stole food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in her mouth. You’d always whine about it, but she never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving her full access to it when you were full.

Ellie considered herself to be a woman with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. She would love to fuck you to her liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call her daddy. She thought of herself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of her numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked her and fucked her, using her like you’d use a fucking toy. She had woken up with a raging orgasm as from her lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was she a pervert? Absolutely. Would she ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

She’d prefer to die with this feelings than ever telling you she loved you. She was just terrified of the thought of you pushing her away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what she thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at her for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that she always bought you, she would come to her house and enter her room with slick coating her thighs. She would pull out of the back of her closet her pussy-shaped toy and her strap and spray one of her pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend her other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for her cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what she’d do, fuck her stupid little toy with her face fully buried on the perfumed one as she imagined you under her, ass up and chest pushed against her bedsheets. Her pace was needy, harsh and deep, the back of the strap bumping against her clit and from her mouth dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making herself cum over and over again when she couldn’t found herself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what she fucked in between whimpers.

She sometimes would leave her house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching her red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there she was, and so were you.

That day she had come with a really painful ache in between her thighs. You’d been sitting on her lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that she had found herself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your friends, laughing with them and jumping on her lap when the jokes were too good. Well, she was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found her hair and slowly massaged her scalp, every now and then pulling at her hair when you played with her locks, her hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from hers— thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using her. The fact that she felt used by you and only you, was what had her gritting her teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Ellie was a good girl, so she just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of her mouth. She felt like breathing once again when you got up from her lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when she no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against her.

“Fuck, y/n…” she whimpered when she plopped on her bed, her palm pushing hardly against her pulsing and aching cunt, precum staining her jeans and underwear. She had pulled out from her closet her fleshlight and strap, since she felt that her hand would not be enough today. She had to fuck herself. “Please, fuck me, please…” she was a babbling mess when the tip pushed inside the lubed toy and her clit rubbed against the strap. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” she found himself whimpering at her mind scenario, in which you would ride her relentlessly, her dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over her cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” she was a babbling mess, her hips rutting upwards against her hand movements to fuck her cock deeper in the toy.

“Els!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened her unlocked front door. Ellie always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a film she had been dying to watch for months and for which she had cried after finding out that it had been banned and would never get to the town’s Film Store. After seeing just how badly she wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from her. “Ellie?” you called out again, the soft sound of her voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving her a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching her room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was she with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Ellie fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked her for years on end, since the first time that she held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But she never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, in the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that she had to be just what she was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached her slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was she fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’ve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out she was not fucking anyone but herself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as her hips fucked upwards, inside her pussy-shaped flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from her lips new groans and moans fell. Ellie was fucking touching herself, desperately rubbing her cunt against the strap, slick on her thighs. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

She looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, eyebrows pushed together as her head fell back against her pillow, hair messy all over it. Her hand was slow, pushing the toy down on her cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see just how long and thick it was, her thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” her voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Ellie was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because she had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Ellie’s movements stopped, her gaze moving to her opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and tape in hand.

She quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under her breath when she sat up, a pillow hiding the strap, clit throbbing at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” she didn’t even know what to say. You had caught her, caught her fucking herself with her goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught her moaning your name. She felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught her… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at her while she pleasured herself. She had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” she cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and hole twitching under the pillow, leaking against her thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making her head snap back to you, a frown on her face, eyes widening when you let the film fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to her bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to her lap when she pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that you would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as you fuck yourself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” she stuttered as she shook her head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping her chin so her eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” she moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and she whimpered, your pussy clenching when she shook her head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against hers, teasing her to get out of her what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled her hair when she tried to kiss you, making her groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” she pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on her lap.

“Only good girls get a kiss, Els.”

“I’m a good girl…” she was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” she nodded, her tongue dampening her lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered her almost naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” she shivered when your lips latched to her neck, your tongue pressing against her skin in open mouth kisses that led to her ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” she moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as she nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as she pushed the pillow off her lap, pussy twitching and thighs soaked in slick.

In the state she was… She would do anything for you. She would even fuck herself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

She moaned when you sat down on her desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. Her hands were shaking when her fingers gripped around the clear silicone or her toy, whimpering when she noticed your eyes on her strap.

It was big —if not massive—, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew she could give it to you, that she would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on the shaft with your tongue and take it so deep on your throat you’d whimper at the pain of your jaw. “Aw, poor Ellie…” you cooed at her. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” she nodded, tears on her eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Els?” she moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to her reaction. She liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” she muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing her cum making her go crazy. She whined when and tortured her bottom lip with her teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for her to see. “Fuck…” she cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

Her pussy was drooling like crazy with every new and fast thrust of her hips, pleads falling off her lips with every brush against her clit. ‘I need you. Need you so bad, y/n…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when she nodded, chuckling at her behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” she whimpered when you had made your way back to her side, standing in front of her and making her head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on her hair, making her hips stutter and breathy whines rip her throat. “Hold it. I haven’t told you to cum yet.” she cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and she had to squeeze the toy and stop her movements to not come when you pushed your damped panties into her mouth, slicked crotch flat against her tongue. Her muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, her eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when she could take a taste on just how sweet you were. She choked on the lace when you startled her legs. Her eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for her to see, thin strips of slick connected them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of her neck to suck a hard hickey on her flesh as you pushed aside her strap, exposing her swollen and reddish soaked pussy.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, her hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to push you down on her and cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when her white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, her mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on hers. You hummed as you stroked her hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across her chest. She was still fucking horny. “Good girl…” you cooed, placing the strap back on top of her cunt, loving just how fucked out she seemed. She moaned when you sat on her cock, its length in between your wet folds and the tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” she cried out with your panties on her mouth when you rocked your hips against hers. That’s all it took for her to cum for a second time, right after her first orgasm. You were gonna fuck her, shit, you were gonna fuck her cock…

You moaned, feeling her nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy against the silicone due to the amount of slick that coated it. “You came again, baby?” she nodded, moaning due to your humping, overstimulating her clit. “Fuck, Els��” you pulled your panties away from her mouth, wanting to hear her groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.” you were fucking soaked for her.

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from her lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled her bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when she leaned in, pupils blown and need on her green thin irises. She looked high. And she was, high on her favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when she had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, her hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, her hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on her hair as she played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering her lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which she quickly discarded away on her bedroom floor. She pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on her pillow —the same she had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. She moaned, pussy aching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for her.

She didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which she took her time with, and of course she would, she had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on her hair. “Ellie…” you whined when she bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. She was so drunk on your skin… She could spend her whole life kissing it that she would never get fucking tired of it. But her teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed her mouth on it now. And she seemed to get it when you pushed her further against it, her hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above her shoulders as she sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when her tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, her due to just how much she had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which she had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with her mouth in mind. Her name falling off your lips on a whimper had her hips rocking against the duvet as she ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when her fingers found their way to your entrance that she started to eat you just like you needed and she always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming her name when her fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as her tongue circled your clit. It was just then when you understood the rumors that went around in your highschool about her mouth. Ellie knew how to use it, really well. So well that she had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. She was like a starved woman, burying her face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in her tongue. “Fuck, Els, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on her hair. She knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Ellie crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

She moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when her tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Ellie drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled her bedroom.

You mewled when once you’d come down from your high, her tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on her wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called for her. She whimpered when you tugged on her hair, pulling her away from your pussy as you sat up. She looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” she begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on her mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to her strap, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where she had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took it in your hand, making her bite down on her lips.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Els.” you said, your other hand coming to her cheek to rub the flush on her skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” her hole twitched to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped her face left her to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for her to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” her eyes rolled to the back of her head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Ellie? Where do you want to cum, baby?” she was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling off her lips as she leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” she found herself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering her the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had her reeling. If only she could really cum inside, she’d make sure to do it over and over again until your belly would swell.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against her lips, her nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with her own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave her a sweet smile when she moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of her mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Els.” she was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive her there, hands on her neck when she leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which she didn’t even need since you were now entering your tongue in her mouth, making her groan. Fuck, she could come just with that. With your tongue in her mouth, your body against her and the thought that you were only letting her fuck you to seek your own release. She moaned on your open mouth when you took her dick to align it with your entrance. You needed her, and you needed her now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Ellie, please, please…” you whimpered, and she didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as she bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit.” she was struggling to move at how hard your walls were swallowing her. Your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving her full access to your neck, which she kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. She was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. Her stretch had you delirious, her tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of her back, making her groan. The two of you were taking your time, her letting you get used to the feeling of her heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. She groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against her. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl for me and let me use your cock, alright?” she whimpered at your words, and in less than one second she had you gripping to her back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Ellie, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

She was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. Her hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on her cock, just as desperate as her. She was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” she was a mess. Both of you were. Her thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in her. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrusts, making your nails dig up on her back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Ellie, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on her ear, making her fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” she begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over her dick as she fucked you dumb, her hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was her name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Ellie, Ellie, Ellie…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” her thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before she finally came. She was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting the back of her strap and her thighs.

“Shit, fuck, Ellie. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness as she had stilled up to the base inside of your swollen and used cunt. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Ellie!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against her pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when she pulled you up from your ass, her cock ramming inside of your soaked pussy. You cried out when her hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in her voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how her mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Ellie had you cumming so hard on her cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around her dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

a/n; I NEEDED TO OKAY? I NEEDED TO MAKE A SICK LOVE ELLIE VERSION SORRY!! 🩵

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