#more dubcon dry humping

[toburnup]

cushion | by adure

Steve is crammed on the couch with three other people, high out of his goddamn mind, when Eddie Munson saunters over and decides that his lap is going to be his spot for the night.

steddie | 2.1k | explicit

[read on ao3]

[wandaslittlepsycho]

Precious

pairing: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢!𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 ༝༝ 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: your bunny slips through the crack of your front door and you run after her in hopes of catching the pet again. You get lost but your time still ticks, nightfall inching closer and closer as you inevitably sink further into the woods. Luckily, your eyes spot a cabin, and you become acquaintances with the unusual redhead that resides there.

warnings: dubcon, filthy smutty smut smut, HEAVYYYY dacryphilia, groping, dry humping, praise kink, thigh riding (r receiving), mid writing, wanda is lowkey a sadist, slightly unhinged crazy yet loveable and sexy cabin wanda, age gap > r is 20 w is 32

A/N: first fic!!! hi… im very new to writing fics so please be nice ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა (i wrote this listening to a true crime documentary idk)

kind of a messy plot but I still hope my little freaks enjoy…… and I’m also sorry this took longer than expected I just kept contemplating if it was good or absolute shit </3

+

this is a dark fic. 18+. wlw. men & minors dni!

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

It’s getting pretty late…

You think to yourself, hugging your shoulders as you look up at the overcast sky.

How did I end up here in the first place?

✦

You move a leaf to the side and pick the fresh strawberry that was stashed there, rinsing it in your small bucket of water and taking a mouthful of the delicious treat.

You hear a shuffle beside you. Turning your head, you see a white bunny hiding behind one of your sunflower pots. You smile and place another strawberry onto the ground before slowly walking away. Your eyes relish how cute the little animal is as they chomp away at your colourful fruit.

You stand in the corner of your garden and decide from then on, you’d feed the hungry bunnies that would stroll into your neighbourhood.

A few days pass and you quickly became friends with two specific bunnies who you named Clover and Daisy. You eventually took them in as your own, rottenly spoiling both of the creatures. You loved having them around because living alone in a small town that was an hour away from the city can definitely become lonely.

“This tastes like candy to you doesn’t it Daisy?” You say as you hold out your hand and watch her nibble it up. The fur around her mouth is stained purple, you laugh at the sight.

“Okay that’s enough blueberries for tonight! You’ll get sick if you keep eating those.” You click the plastic container shut, standing up and walking into your kitchen. You place the container in the side compartment of your fridge for tomorrow and stroll back into your living room.

Your brows furrow. Daisy is gone. Daisy and Clover are such good bunnies, they never leave your sight for more than a minute. You assume she ran to her sister Clover, but your eyes widen in horror when you see your front door slightly more cracked open than it was before you left.

You anxiously open your phone and dial your best friend Frankie. You ramble to her about how stupid you felt for leaving the door open, like you are an irresponsible parent who’s no smarter than a bag of rocks. She calmly tells you to go look for Daisy and that she’ll come over as soon as she can to watch Clover.

“Thank you so so much, Frankie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You sigh in relief, a hand pressed over your chest. You feel your heart jump underneath your palm and your lips trembling with every breath.

“It’s no problem, Y/N/N. Now go look for that bunny, I’ll be over in 5.”

“Bye, thank you again..” You hang up the phone and dart out the door. You frantically look through your shrubs and call her name, but a bright white spot in your peripheral steals your attention.

There she is, bouncing her way into the open forest across the road from you. As soon as she hops out of your view you race towards her, carelessly running past two moving cars. You ignore the frustrated yelling and the beeping horns, continuing to boost into daisies direction.

“DAISY! WAIT!!��

You yell, but your shouting only seems to spur her on. You run after her and neither of you lose pace. You turn corners, run through mud and almost slip doing so at least two times. The animal suddenly picks up it’s speed, turning abruptly and disappearing into a thick bush. You get on your knees and practically rip this bush to shreds, but she was already long gone. Daisy is no more.

You feel tears sting your eyes, ears and cheeks becoming hot from your stress. You sniffle and wipe your tears with the sleeve of your jacket. You knew it was impossible to look for her now. That bunny became your life in just a couple of days, she felt like a childhood pet. The thought of never seeing her again made your heartstrings tie themselves into knots.

You lose the path you were on but you couldn’t care less. You lost your beloved bunny baby; life is no longer worth living. You wonder if Clover’s okay, and how exactly you’d break the news to her.

So lost and full of woe, mind not even switched on, you didn’t notice the thick tree root in front of you until you stub your foot against it and fall forward. You wince and slowly stand up again. Dusting the crunchy leaves off of your clothes, you use the back of your hand to wipe the dripping bead of blood from your cheekbone.

Great, a cut. I’ll have to clean that up when I get home..

You wonder aimlessly with your head hung low. A brisk breeze that brushes past you is what makes you finally look up.

You hug your shoulders as you stare at the gloomy airspace. The sun isn’t beaming, only a variation of different grey clouds flood the sky.

A person? This far out on in the woods?

Wanda thinks. She watches you with a deranged, curious look as you weave yourself through the webs and bushes, seemingly extra careful about tree roots.

You look up from the ground, scanning the area around you and pause when you see the warm glow of her cabin.

My god, she’s gorgeous.

She takes a swift step back so she’s not in the frame of the window anymore, her brows furrowing. She stares at the wall, she hasn’t seen an actual person in so long.

What is a girl like you doing traipsing in the woods?

She peeks again and now you’re making your way over, big wary eyes cautiously examining your surroundings. A shiver rocks through you as you cough into your elbow, then using that arm to place three firm knocks on the door.

You sigh while you wait for someone to answer the door. You switch from tippy toes to the heel of your feet in a nervous manner. The cabin looks great, almost pristine, there’s no way it’s abandoned.

You feel stupid for going into a cabin in the woods. It’s like some dumb movie; you’re just hoping you don’t end up dead. You expect to see an old, wrinkled man the size of a third grader, but your eyes widen when a tall red headed woman swings the door open. You stutter, stunned that a woman like her would live in a place so isolated.

Holy shit, she’s fine.

“Hi, um.. I know it’s a lot to ask but can I stay here for a little bit? I… got lost.” You fiddle with your fingers. She chuckles as she crosses her arms, biting her lip and letting her eyes run up and down your fidgety figure.

“No it’s not asking anything at all. It’s not like I get visitors very often.” She moves to the side and welcomes you in. You look up at her and mumble a small thank you, slowly stepping inside her warm homestead.

The smell of firewood burning and sweet lavender conquer your senses. The comforting atmosphere relaxes you despite how unfamiliar it is. You kick off your boots and grab them so you can neatly place them next to the door. She shuts the door and clicks it locked, quietly making her way over to what looks like her kitchen.

You drink in the sight around you. A tall, cobblestone fireplace lined up against the wall with wood already burning inside of it. A soft lounge suite with a fluffy mat sitting right underneath it. There’s a short hallway and two doors, one you assume leading into her bedroom and the other probably being her bathroom.

One thing you notice in particular is a painting, one with two women sitting on a red velvet couch. One is dressed in white, the other is dressed in black and they both have lace blindfolds wrapped around their heads.

Their Victorian dresses were detailed and long, their lips so close but afraid to touch and give in.

You look away and clench your fists. Your face is now hot, when you entered a remote cabin in the woods, a gay victorian painting was the last thing you expected.

“Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” The woman’s hoarse voice echoes through the room. Your ears perk up when they catch a touch of an accent.

Is she some type of Russian? That’s hot.

Your anxious form shifts over to her couch to sit down. You sigh in relief, your aching bones melting into the man made cloud that was this woman’s sofa.

“So what’s your name, milaya?” The woman hands you a cup. Your cold fingers feel fuzzy against the hot mug, shuffling back further into her couch so you can sit up comfortably.

“Y/N. You?”

“Wanda.”

A small smile sits on her face that is on some level, disturbing. It’s such a beautiful smile but you can feel something is not right with her. Your intuition has never made itself more distinct, it was less noticeable when you were walking alone outside.

The room feels like it’s getting smaller, the claustrophobia whips the air right out of your lungs. Your eyes flicker between hers. The room starts to spin. Your ears start to ring. Before you could pass out cold, she cups your chin, the gentle gesture pulling you out of your panicked state.

“That’s a nasty cut isn’t it? Would you like me to take care of that?” She says, her tone coaxing. Your curious eyes linger on her,

Why is this stranger being so generous?

If someone entered your home and needed to stay the night, you’d tell them to get lost. She caresses your face softly while she stares at the wound.

“No it’s oka-“ She suddenly pushes a finger to the fresh cut, forcing you to wince and pull away from her. She looks at you in a way you can’t describe, your reaction seemingly piqueing her interest. Her pupils dilate but not enough for you to notice. You look at her with fearful eyes and think to yourself,

Who would do that?

“Actually, that would be nice. Thank you..”

~

Your eyes switch between the steaming drink in your hand and the obviously unhinged redhead sitting next to you. Her aura is intimidating, but you convince yourself it’s paranoia.

I’m in a remote cabin deep in the woods.

Who wouldn’t be unsettled? She’s nice and she helped you…stop being dumb Y/N!

“Thank you again for cleaning my cut, Wanda.” You try to strike up a conversation, but all you’re met with is painful silence. She watches your lips touch the ring of the porcelain teacup, then moving her eyes up to meet your own.

“You’re very observant aren’t you?” You refer to her endless stare, disguising your discomfort with a small chuckle. Her smile widens.

"Fascinuješ ma, miláčik.” “You fascinate me, darling.”

Your brows squeeze together. You wish you could understand what she said, but it felt rude asking her to repeat that in English. You result in shyly looking away and focus on your dangling feet.

Her hand occasionally runs down your back or strokes your arm. Her icy featherlight touches cause goosebumps to ride over your skin. She notices your eyes following her fingers, a mischief smirk hiking up her cheeks.

“You’re so lucky I’m here to help you, dear. What was a girl like you doing in the woods all alone?” Her hand lands on your knee, slowly climbing up closer to your heat and lightly massaging the flesh there. You squirm when she inches closer to your mound, but you’re in her home. She could do anything to you if you said something that upset her.

What if she’s just being nice? I don’t want to offend her…

“I- uh- I was hunting?” You try to paint yourself as tough but fail spectacularly; you can tell by the way she squints her eyes when she hears your answer.

“If that were true, you’d have hunting gear on you, sweetie.” She moves your hair to the other side of your neck to expose the milky skin there. She gawks at your neck like a predator creeping on her prey, ready to pounce on you at any given moment.

The thought of kissing and licking at your silky skin and the vivid image of you biting your plush pink lips made her tremble with desire.

You shrink, staring at the drink in your hands and feeling a strike of vulnerability as you quietly say the words, “I was chasing a bunny..”

“Aww aren’t you precious?” She praises. She toys with the soft threads of your hair, your cheeks glowing a rosy pink from her comment. Her hand squeezes your thigh more roughly, the unexpected act making you jump.

“Such a pretty thing.” She whispers to herself. You don’t catch her words, so you hum and tilt your head, showing your confusion in hopes she would repeat herself.

“Oh… nothing.” She quickly replaces her shock with a crooked grin. Your lips stretch into a small and nervous smile, slowly putting the cup to your mouth again.

A few more moments of silence are present. The crackling of burning wood and the crickets chirping in the distance gave you a chance to finally breathe, although you still struggle to ignore her invasive presence.

“Put the drink down.” You look at her in surprise. You stutter, taken aback by her orders but don’t dare ask any questions. You lick your lips and shuffle, leaning forward to sit the drink on her coffee table. You then move back against the couch and stare into the orange flames in front of you.

“Do you like when people are rough with you, angel?”

You freeze hearing her question. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear ever so gently, grinning when she sees the sheer terror written on your face. There was something eerie about the way she had asked you, a corrupted little twinkle beaming from her eyes.

“Well, no.. N-Not really why?” Your voice is shaking. You know for sure now that this woman is not in her right mind. She could be capable of doing anything and you wouldn’t expect it. She flashes you a charming smile as she continues to twirl and play with your hair, leaning closer to you before whispering,

“Can I tell you a secret?” Your breath hitches softly and your body tenses at the close proximity. You refuse to look at her. You cement your eyes to the flickering fire in front of you. Her hand smoothly travels from your thigh to the zip of your corduroy jacket, slowly pulling down at the metal teeth to reveal your white v-neck shirt and ruby necklace. The sound of your zipper in the unsettling silence makes your skin crawl. You could almost hear the ominous, suspenseful background music. You don’t know what would happen if you deny her, so you hesitantly nod your head.

“I like hurting people… Especially pretty toys like you. I haven’t done it in a long time though.” Her eyes hungrily take in your chilled expression. You gulp when she pulls the jacket off of your shoulders and throws to the side.

“I love to see girls cry, tears running down their sweet little faces…” Her hands rub your upper arms soothingly as she rubbed her nose into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent. You found yourself unable to move or respond, giving in to her game and listening to her sick train of thought.

“Can I make you cry, please, sweet girl?” She mumbles into your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your breathing becomes heavier, needing her so very badly you start to tune out the blaring alarms in your head.

“Wanda listen-” She moves on top of you. She situates herself between your legs giving you no chance to close them, running her hands up and down your thighs. It all happened so fast.

“Pretty please? You’d look so good..” She becomes breathless at the thought, lunging forward and forcefully pushing her lips onto yours. Her lips feel pillowy and soft against yours, she smells of sweet vanilla and a smoky but subtle cinnamon; the mix makes your brain go dizzy with want. She tangles her hands with yours so she can pin your frantic ones onto the couch. Butterflies dance in your stomach, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Her kiss is rough but somehow so soft at the same time, the conflicted feeling makes your heart flutter.

She puts all her body weight onto you, grinding her crotch into yours as she murmurs praises into your mouth. “You’re so fucking cute,” “It’s gonna feel so so good, just let me touch you..”

She slides her tongue across your lip, silently telling you to open your mouth. She angrily tightens her grip on your hands when you groan and clench your jaw shut, forbidding her access.

“Open your mouth, or I’ll find another way to make it stay open.” You whine quietly, slowly opening your mouth and letting her slide in. You whimper and squirm when her hands land on your hips, guiding you to grind against her knee.

“There you go, so so pretty grinding on me like that..” You grab handfuls of her sweater, the fabric of your cotton panties rubbing against you creating the perfect friction. You softly moan her name, back arching while hiding your face in her neck, ashamed how riled up you are from being taken advantage of. One of her hands move from your hip to your thigh, exploring the rest of your body before snaking up your stomach to grope at your breasts.

“Fuck,” She whimpers before biting down on your lip. She twists and teases your nipples between her fingers, feasting on the sight of your pathetic writhing.

“Wanda!” Your movements against her thigh become more frantic, so blissed out you couldn’t care about how needy and dumb you must look.

Your hands advance to her biceps, clutching onto her as you try reach the high you so deeply crave. Your heart thuds in your chest, sweat glistening on your forehead and gasping for air. Your tears soak her shirt, hating yourself for giving in to her but also not willing to stop.

“Cum, make a mess for me bunny..” Her hand grabs your chin and holds it still. You foolishly kept trying to turn your head, but your actions cease when her hand moves from your chin to wrap around your throat.

“Look at me when you cum.” She forces her face impossibly closer to yours, jutting out her jaw and admiring the sparkling tears falling from your eyes. Her breathing becomes ragged listening to your whines and sobs, the throb between her legs intensifying.

“I don’t want to..”

“I don’t care if you want to or not. I won’t let you move until you do.”

Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll to the back of your head, her cruel words somehow pushing you over the edge. Everything becomes white, your thighs shake and your body tenses. Waves of pleasure crash down on you, the euphoric feeling pulsing through you from head to toe.

She eagerly watches you fall apart from your first climax, knowing that she’s not even halfway done with you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes struggling to stay open and arms spread over the couch.

She carefully pushes her knee further into your pussy, your pleas and protests only making her more excited for what she plans next.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, angel.”

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

[fuckincrow]

Olfactophilia

summary: You're dating Homelander and he's horny for your scent, pretty much porn without plot. AFAB reader, gender neutral.

warnings: homelander is a warning on his own, dubcon, scent kink, somnophilia, homelander is a pervert, dry humping, oral (fem receiving), established relationship, canon homelander behaviour

┈┈┈┈┈◦•✩•◦┈┈┈┈┈

Homelander was not a good partner. One could hardly call him a boyfriend, whatever your endeavor with him was did not seem like a normal relationship. It was scary, you were scared of him, knowing he was at the verge of a homicidal tantrum on most days. And despite this, the only times you had witnessed his anger had been directed at others. A fellow supe, an unlucky intern, maybe Ashley. Mostly Ashley, you always thought that woman deserved a raise. But his feelings toward you were... different. It wasn't a normal kind of love, more of a dependency. You saw it in his eyes whenever you touched him, that slight shift of expression, the way his muscles tensed up and his breathing became ever so slightly faster. Maybe that was part of the allure, the fact you could render this monster useless with a few caresses and honeyed words. As long as he didn't realise how weak he actually was for you, you'd be fine.

You never liked sleeping in his penthouse, it was too much. The American memorabilia was almost comical, although you'd never commented on it, knowing it would probably upset him. It was hard to get in the mood when you felt George Washington staring at you, but Homelander's passion proved enough distraction. The sole reason you were in his bed was because he'd been extra needy lately, eventually you got tired of him showing up at your house unannounced, so you simply caved and temporarily moved to the Tower.

As you try to get some rest, you feel a cool breeze hit the back of your neck, followed by the silent pitter patter of his feet against the carpet, like a cat sneaking back home. He always took the window, he thought he was being stealthy when he flied in, but he always managed to wake you. Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose. The next thing you feel was the warmth of his body against your back, the padded suit kind of uncomfortable against whatever skin your pyjamas left exposed, it was like he was glued to that thing. In fact, you had only seen him fully naked once or twice. Since you don't hear any greeting, you assume he thinks you're asleep, and so you did just that; go back to sleep.

★・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★

You were so close, too close. He never could get enough of it. Homelander moves to rest his nose against your neck, sniffing your skin. You hadn't showered tonight, just how he liked it. His enhanced senses only made him get a bigger enjoyment out of your natural musk, specially in the summer, when sweat built up under your armpits, under your breasts, the bases of your feet. "(Name)?" He calls out in a soft voice, testing the waters. No answer. After a few moments, he slowly removes his gloves, carefully placing them on the night table. His hand sneaks on top of your waist, a fairly normal gesture, but it slowly travels upward. His fingers travel over your armpit, collecting some sweat. For a moment he just stares at his two fingers, his breathing growing a little heavier just from the knowledge of what he's done. Not out of shame, you're his to do whatever he wants with after all, but the fact this scent he loves so much now coated his own skin. Homelander brings the two digits to his nose, taking a good, long sniff, and breathing out in pleasure. He could already feel the bulge straining against his suit, painfully uncomfortable. "Fuck..." He muttered, now fully pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass, his face buried in your neck like he was trying to inhale every last pheromone you exuded, his hips pathetically humping you from behind. He couldn't care less if you woke up right now, surprisingly self aware of how messed up he was for grinding against you like a dog, but he couldn't stop. Your smell drove him insane. It was your fault for laying in his bed like that, without having showered.

Nearly two minutes of this went on before you stopped pretending to sleep. You had caught onto every little move, it wasn't like you were going to stop him. If he was going to get off on your sweat so be it, you wouldn't be the one to risk one of his temper tantrums against you. What you didn't like was how close he was to your core, inevitably making you wet from the friction, which slowly got quicker as his huffs got louder.

"John."

The mention of his name, his real name, made his blood run cold. Homelander stopped completely, as if stopping his movement now would somehow make you forget what had been going on since he arrived. You turned around to look at him, his face was equally flustered and shameless. You knew him enough that his embarrassment didn't come from a place of morals or a general idea of consent, it was purely because you saw him as he was; needy. Human.

You slowly shift to face him properly, his lips are slightly parted as he looks at you with puppy dog eyes, if you didn't know any better you could've said he was being gentle. Your hand rakes through his blond curls and he nearly melts at the action, his breath briefly hitching when you tug down on them. The action is a command, one he understands immediately, and without the need for words he removes the sheets from your body and lowers your pyjama bottoms along with your underwear down to your ankles, his eagerness practically tears them apart (it wouldn't be the first time).

Homelander lived for moments like this one, the sight of your cunt in front of his face, the smell of your wetness invading his nostrils. For a moment he's left a little starstruck, running his fingers slickly up your hole, letting your fluid act as lubricant as he caresses your clit. The contact earns a little whimper from you, the sound making his stomach flip. He would've teased you for it, but he's not a patient man, and the moment he hears that little sound he's pressing his entire face against your mound, the death grip on your thighs keeping you fully spread. His tongue is fast, his nose hitting your clit whenever he moves, and slowly but surely your breaths become pants, whimpers and moans falling from your lips and only making him more eager. He doesn't bother hiding how he's rutting against the mattress, you believe he's doing it purely out of instinct. Your hips buck forward chasing friction, and a muffled groan from him sends perfect vibration up your core, tugging his hair in response.

You've orgasmed a few times and you're ready to ask him to stop now that you're satisfied when you hear a crack in his voice, followed by a long, drawn out moan and a shaky breath that follows suit. Your mind still a little foggy from the climax, you sit up to look at him. "John?" He simply looks up at you, panting a little, a warm and wet spot between his thighs. It takes you a moment to register the fact he's creamed his pants just from eating you out, and if you weren't this exhausted the thought alone would be enough to rile you up for round two.

"You're welcome." You say with a little grin, chuckling as he practically collapses against your chest, burying himself between your breasts and merely humming in response. Next time he'll just wake you.

[reiderwriter]

🔐 Password Protected 🔐

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: "Hii Kacie, may I put in a request of a NSFW prompt? Any plotline or back story is fine I trust your talent :"> Reader's boobs/asscheeks recoill during sex turning Spencer on even more "I wish you could have my view right now" he grabs the phone to open the camera app."

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, DubCon Hidden camera, dry humping, free use, soft to hard Dom!Spencer, sub! Reader, creampie, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, implied oral sex, implied bondage, implied somno, pictures/ photos, degradation (slut, whore etc,) and pet names (Princess, sir, angel etc,), nipple play/torture, multiple orgasms.

A/N: Here's my second fic for the CM Kink Bingo 2024~♡ I'm definitely all over the board now, so who knows if I'I hit bingo this year, Imao? Anyways, I hope you enjoy~ And to my dear friend :"^ anon - thank you for your inspiring request.

Masterlist || Bingo Board

With a glorious lull in cases to close over the summer, the biggest mystery in the BAU was “What's in the locked folder on Spencer's phone?” 

The man had made the (technologically inept) mistake of leaving his new phone unlocked on his desk in a bullpen full of criminal profilers. To say you'd all descended like vultures to a fresh carcass was putting it extremely lightly.

“What apps does he have? Five dollars says there's a dictionary app,” Emily joked, leaning over Morgan's shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of the screen. You were similarly perched at his other shoulder. 

“He can probably recite the dictionary himself, and I don't think he'd know how to download apps,” you scoffed, scrolling up in the phone yourself to the app page. 

“There's got to be something good in the camera roll, right?” Morgan said, clicking into it to find some dirt on the much too innocent Spencer Reid. Which is where you'd found quaint pictures of the sky, some pages from a book and the folder. 

The one with a little lock on it signalling the boundary. Spencer had figured out how to use a locked folder - you'd be impressed if you weren't so curious about what was inside. 

“Placing bets, people? My money is on work documents,” Morgan chuckled, losing interest swiftly in the phone and pressing it into your hands. “It's not like the kid has a lot going on romantically, right?”

You kept your mouth shut as the others nodded in agreement. While Spencer Reid may not have anything romantic going on officially, he definitely had something sexual going on. You'd been in his bed five of the last six days, losing count on the amount of times he'd fucked you into oblivion, using your body as freely as he wished, cumming inside of you to finish before washing off all traces of your coupling and cuddling upto you as you slept. 

It wasn't quite a relationship, but dear god, did you never want it to end. You hadn't been so satisfied, so fulfilled (emphasis on the filled) in a long time. 

“What are you doing with my phone?” You heard Spencer question from behind you, and you turned, trying to mask your embarrassment. You really didn't want him to think you were some obsessive not-girlfriend going through his messages, and almost dropped the phone like it was a bomb when your eyes met his. 

“We were just debating what you could possibly have to hide in your gallery’s locked folder,” Emily laughed, clapping the man on the back and smiling up at him. “Help me win $20 and tell Morgan here that you made it accidentally and don't know the password.” 

“Hey, I didn't agree to any bet yet,” Morgan laughed, kicking his feet up on his desk. 

“Only because you know you're wrong.” 

They bickered just long enough to let Spencer take a step closer to you, slipping the phone easily out of your hand and back into his pocket. His voice was low, his mouth close to his ear when he finally sated your curiosity. 

“I think you may want to distract them from this topic, Y/N. I don't think you'll like it if they demand to see what kind of pictures and…videos I have in that folder.” 

His tone wasn't suggestive, but it still lit a fire in your belly with the implication alone. You'd warmed his bed for long enough to know that you were the only one sharing it, but you didn't remember him taking any pictures or videos of you. Shit, had you been so desperate that you'd completely blanked him capturing a folders worth of images of you servicing his cock? 

You took the hunt and stepped away from him, picking up a file quickly and glancing over it before turning to Emily. Distracting them with work was the only way to keep them off the scent and distract you must.

Even if it did mean you were inconvenienced with curiosity and lust for the rest of the day. 

When you finally finished work, you practically hammered down Spencer's door, trying to get answers to questions he'd left hung in the air earlier. You were a visual learner, so you dearly hoped he'd answer by simply just showing you what you'd missed. 

“Y/N,” he said, opening the door with a sweet smile, drawing you into the apartment with a slow, honeyed kiss. You felt him smile into you, his touch chaste enough around your arms to still your beating heart. You languished in the kiss as he pulled you on closer, shutting the door behind you as he opened you up to him, pulling you further under his spell than usual. 

“I'm so happy to see you,” he said once he'd pulled away, feathering his touch across your waist, settling his hands in the crook just under your breasts, stroking the bottom of them with his thumbs. You were suddenly glad the man's hands were so large, sure that this one interaction was heaven on earth. 

He almost distracted you from your purpose for coming here. 

Pulling you to the sofa in his living room, Spencer pushed back a strand of hair, hooking it behind your ear as he let you straddle him  wrapping your arms around his neck, your head falling comfortably onto his shoulder as you inhaled his scent. 

“I'm not complaining that you're here, or anything, Y/N,” he said, hands roaming your body and stroking your ass as he spoke. “But did you have something to say? You didn't message before coming.” 

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes before looking away out of embarrassment. 

“Earlier, you…” you started, tongue going dry as he tightened his grip on your ass. He shifted slightly under you and you realized he was grinding his leg up into your clothed pussy as you spoke. 

“Yes?” 

“Your phone…the locked folder, I want to see what's inside.” 

You were sure that he knew already what you wanted before you'd even arrived, but he just smiled at you again, almost too kindly. 

“That's my private business, Y/N. Why should I let you see it?” He asked, looking good a finger under your jaw to make you look him in the eye once more. 

“I th-think… I think there are videos. Of me. I'd like to see them.” 

“Where are your manners?” 

“Please, sir,” you whispered, tipping your head forward, begging him for a kiss. “Please show me the videos.” 

He huffed out a quick laugh and gave you one last peck on the lips before he pushed you off. You sat on the floor between his legs, a position you were so used to being in by now that you wouldn't be surprised to find multiple shots of you sat like this, lips wrapped around his cock, pussy grinding on his shoes. Even the thought of such pictures had you wanting to recreate those memories, you weren't sure what a folder worth is going to do. 

Stretching over to his coffee table, Spencer picked up the discarded phone and unlocked it, flipping through some pages before looking down at you again. 

Stroking your hair, Spencer neatly arranged it before wrapping the same hand he'd been using g around your neck and pulling you gently upwards. You landed back in his lap, but he'd turned you around this time. Instead of straddling him, your back was pressed to his chest, your legs on either side of one of his. He released your neck, instead pushing his hands between your thighs so you couldn't push them together for relief - he already knew your body so well. 

“Is this what you're curious about, Y/N?” He said, finally flashing you the phone screen. The first picture was obviously taken post-sex, and you recognised his bed sheets quickly. Your face hung off the end of his bed, eyes shut as his cum painted your lips, cheeks and eyes, lips parted in a lusty moan. From the angle it was taken at, you could see your breasts swell and your hand disappear between your legs as well, stroking yourself to release.

“Shit,” you moaned, pussy clenching on nothing as it begged for relief. With a hand on your hip, Spencer started encouraging you to rock back and forward, humping his leg as he whispered in your ear. 

“You didn't know about that one because your eyes were covered in my cum. It turned me on more knowing you had no clue I was going to jack off to it later as well.” 

He scrolled to the next image, and in this one too, you seemed unaware of the camera. Your hands were tied to the headboard, and he was fucking you from behind, the shot capturing his creamy dick pulling out of you and the discarded condom on the bed beside you. 

“That was the day we learned how much more you enjoyed being filled with cum than you enjoyed condoms,” he said, scrolling to the next picture. 

“And here's your first creampie,” he said, his spare hand pushing under your shirt, fingers clamping down on one nipple as you shuddered. 

Your pace was faster now, desperately thrusting up and down his thigh. Even through your skirt and panties, you felt your wetness against his pants, knowing you'd be punished later for such unladylike behaviour. 

As if Spencer had ever wanted you to act like a lady. He knew you were a slut and he enjoyed it. 

“The next one is a video,” he said, moving his hand to your other breast and slapping it as you moaned above him. “Do you think you can handle it?” 

“Y-Yes, Sir. Please let me see it, sir.” 

“Okay, but not a fucking noise out of you. I want to hear your screams from the video.” 

You could only silently groan in reply, nodding quickly as he scrolled and pressed play. 

This one was recent, maybe one or two nights ago. You recognised the outfit you'd partially discarded, the shirt that had been ripped open. 

How had you possibly not seen the camera pointed straight at you? 

In the video, his cock was pressed into you, fucking you at a pace most would call violent  but you called heavenly. The focus wasn't on your pussy taking his cock, though, but on your boobs, recoiling and jumping with every thrust. His other hand pressed to your stomach, feeling himself sheathed there, as you moaned desperately. 

“Spen…Spen-sher,” you tripped over your tongue, slurring the words as if you'd been drugged. Your eyelids were heavy, eyes practically rolling back in your head as his hand on your stomach tightened. 

“I think I fucked your brain out, baby,” he laughed deeply, cock not relenting even one second. 

“Your tits looked so perfect,” the Spencer of the present said, pressing the phone into your hand as he grabbed each nipple and tugged them forward, leaving you gasping. 

“And you didn't even realize I was filming it all. I could've done anything to you, anything at all, and you wouldn't have cared. You'd have enjoyed it, and I'd have had the proof.” 

You were soaked now, humping deliriously against his thigh, like a puppy experiencing their first heat, desperate for this feeling to go away and for it to stay and intensify all the same. 

“You were acting so stupid. At one point, I even got you to say hello to the camera, and you didn't remember a thing an hour later.” 

Releasing one breast, he swiped one more time to the left, and you saw the beginning of another video. 

Hitting the play button, his hands returned to your chest, this time pushing up your top and bra and freely clamping down on the nipples as hard as he could. 

What intrigued you the most about this last video was the start. Unlike the pictures and the videos, you weren't in the middle of sex at the beginning of this video at all. 

You were instead laid with your back to the camera - to Spencer - a leg thrown over some unfamiliar sheets. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't yours either. 

Another minute of grinding against his leg, and you recognised the motel room from your last case. 

“Spencer, wh-” 

“Watch and see, princess.” 

The bed creaked under his weight as he climbed in behind you, removing the duvet covers from your body, replacing it with his hands. He made similarly swift work of your pajamas, only bothering to push them down to your knees before pulling out his cock and slowly pushing into you. 

If you weren't so close to another orgasm, you'd probably be shocked that Spencer had invaded your personal space and started fucking you as you slept. But that's what it meant to be his little free use slut. You allowed him access to you anywhere, anytime (including the motel room you'd given him the spare key for) and in return he dropped as many loads of his cum into your pussy as would fit there. 

Watching yourself get violated in your sleep was the last of what you needed to push over the edge. 

You grabbed Spencer's arm, gasping, and you felt him trail kisses along your neck and shoulders. 

“That's it, baby, just hold on a second while I…” he pulled the phone out of your grasp, opening yet another familiar looking app. 

You looked at the screen and found your own bare chest heaving staring back at you. He clicked the red button and forced it back into your hands as he began abusing your tits again. 

“Show the camera, Y/N. Show them how you get yourself off on my leg.” 

You complied, lifting the phone slightly to get the best view of your chest, heaving up and down as you humped his thigh into oblivion. 

Your cunt twitched and you felt fluids rushing out of you, even as your arms trembled. But you didn't let them falter  holding g up the phone to capture every second of your climax, knowing its exactly what he would want. 

“You're perfect, you know that Y/N,” he said, finally kissing the top of your head and pulling the phone out of your grasp as he saved the video into the file you'd been browsing. 

His gentleness was short-lived, though, as he pushed you off his lap and back to the floor. As you caught your breath, ass up on the floor, he took the opportunity to slip his dick out of his pants, and began stroking it up and down, inspecting your pussy with his free fingers. 

“I'll give you five seconds to get ready for the next round,” he said, and you panicked, lifting your legs off the floor. You weren't strong enough, though, or maybe you just didn't want to move. He kept counting down. 

“4….3….2…1,” you heard the predatory grin in his voice as he pushed his foot onto your head, holding your cheek to the floor with one leg. 

“As you wish then, my little slut.” He moved his foot away quickly and pushed inside of you, and your last coherent thought was of the folder again, and how long he'd make you wait to see the video you were about to shoot. 

[froggibus]

Not Done Yet - Wriothesley

Pairing: Wriothesley x f! reader (reader has a pussy + uses fem pronouns)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: your boyfriend will do anything to keep you from moving to the Overworld

CW: dubcon, breeding, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation, fingering, wall sex, dry humping, doggystyle, mating press, lots of dirty talk, praise + degradation, use of ‘good girl’, dom! Wriothesley, semi feral wriothesley , possessiveness, arguing

hello welcome to this episode of kinktober where the Wriothesley brainrot continues. the minute I met this man in game it was just absolutely over for me and I had SO many thoughts of him and ugh. hope you guys like it <3

Kinktober Masterlist

“You want to do what?”

It’s hard not to cower under your boyfriend’s gaze when his eyes have become so chilly. His voice has taken on an angry edge, a ball of electricity forming in your tummy. 

You swallow hard and point your chin. “I want to move.” 

He raises an eyebrow at you, taking a step closer. It’s times like these that you realize how much bigger he is than you, how much more powerful he is than you. The air takes on a bitter cold. 

“Away from here, I mean,” you add, turning your gaze to the dangling chandelier of his office and the warm light it emits. 

“To the Overworld. You want to move to the Overworld and abandon the life you have here.” His voice booms, “you have a home here, y/n. You have me here. And you want to throw it all away so you can work like a dog until the day you die?”

You scoff. “So I can have a real life, Wriothesley. A chance at some normalcy. To get a normal job and have normal food and—and have a family.”

He looks taken aback at your final sentence. The gears in his head turn, slowly processing this. You’ve never talked about having kids before, not with him. Sure, you’re not always the most careful about using protection, but he never thought that would be something that you want. 

He steps forward again, backing you up only inches from the wall. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, “you’re not leaving me. You can’t.” 

You shiver, though you’re not sure if it’s from the cold air or from the dark look in his eyes. You stare at him defiantly, though every instinct tells you to look away from him. 

You can see your breath when you speak. “I can and I will.”

Wrong answer. 

In an instant, he has you pinned against the wall, one hand with a bruising grip on your hip, the other snaking around your throat. 

His eyes darken as he smashes his lips against yours. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, the sudden pain making you gasp. He slips his tongue between your lips and you suck instinctually. 

He slides his hand down from your hip and under your thigh, lifting it up to his side. He thrusts you against the wall, groaning into your mouth. You whine against him, raising your leg higher to give the growing bulge in his pants easier access to your aching core. 

“Why would you ever wanna leave this, hm?”

His words snap you out of your trance, your hands trailing up to his chest to shove him off of you. Heat surges through your body, your head spinning as if the world is rocking beneath you. 

You take a deep breath and gather your bearings. “We’re not done arguing, Wriothesley.”

“I am,” he pushes you against the wall, using his size to his advantage. He presses himself against your back so that you can feel every twitch of his muscles, every rise and fall of his chest. 

His hands go to your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh. He grinds himself against you, hard bulge nestling between your legs. 

He digs his teeth into your neck, sharp canines grazing the sensitive skin. He gives a rough, playful thrust, and a moan slips out between your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of embarrassment taking over. 

He gently sucks at the spot he just bit. “That’s what I thought,” he says in that familiar, commanding voice—the one he uses to break up prison riots, or convince you to let him chain you to the bed. 

He slips a hand between your legs to cup your throbbing core, feeling the heat overflowing from your pussy. Another whine slips out, your knees shaking in anticipation, threatening to give out. 

He tightens his grip on your hip to hold you still, his other hand furiously rubbing your clit through the fabric of your pants. You arch your back, letting your knees spread apart to give him easier access. He pulls his hand away and smacks your ass, laughing at the soft moan it elicits. 

He wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you back to rub against his cock. You brace yourself against the wall with your hands, leaning forwards with your hand down. He thrusts against you, hard cock grinding against the fabric of his own jeans. 

His other hand slips into the waistband of your pants, trailing down to your soaking panties. He runs a finger along your slit, “god, you’re absolutely dripping.”

You hide your face in your arm against the wall, shaking your head in shame. Wriothesley laughs, pushing his hand into your panties and running it between your lips. You look so cute when you’re writhing beneath him and hiding your face. He can’t wait to see how cute you’ll look when he has your eyes rolling back. 

He rubs steady circles on your clit, your pussy only gushing with more slick as he touches you. You push back against him with every moan, rubbing your ass onto his aching hard on. 

He leans over you, pressing himself against you completely. His lips hover just below your ear, “hm, pretty girl. So nice and wet.”

He dips a finger inside of you, just barely prodding your entrance with the thick tip. Shockwaves rush through you, your hips jutting out with a mind of their own, your pussy clamping down around him. He pushes it in up to the hilt, your gummy walls clamping around his thick finger. 

He curls it inside of you and watches you fall apart around him, a slutty mess just from one of his fingers. He pushes another inside, working you open. Your arms shake against the wall, threatening to give in and make you face plant against it. 

There’s a hot pressure building in your stomach, heating up more and more by the second. Your thighs quiver on either side of his arm, your arms bend inwards, and suddenly you pitch forwards. 

Wriothesley anticipates your fall, keeping his arm tightly around your waist. He holds you up with one arm while finger fucking you with the other. He continues pumping his fingers inside of you, warm juices dripping out of you and coating his knuckles. He can feel you open up around him, the vice grip you had around his digits finally loosening. 

He curls his fingers inside of you one final time, hitting that soft spot within your walls. You cum violently, muscles spasming against your will. Your whole body shudders and you collapse completely into his arms. You keep your eyes closed, trying to regain control of your senses as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. 

When you finally open your eyes, you’re laying on his bed with your clothes off. Wriothesley stands at the end of the bed, also naked and stroking his hard cock. The dark lighting of the bedroom only makes him look more defined, the contours of his abs and arms making you drool. 

He kneels on the bed in front of you, fisting his cock. You find yourself staring at the bulge of his biceps, the contour of his abs, the precum dripping down the tip of his cock. You’re barely aware that he’s propping you up on your knees, running his hands over the swell of your ass. 

He dips a finger into your puffy pussy. You shudder from the sensitivity, your walls fluttering around his finger. 

He squeezes your ass and pulls his finger out. “Hm, I think you’re ready.”

“Ready?” You ask weakly, your face pressed into his pillows. 

He rubs his cock through your folds, collecting all of your slick onto his tip. “Ready for me to fuck you,” he says, lining his tip up with your entrance. “Ready for me to ruin you.”

His words send a chill up your spine, the undertone of his voice something entirely foreign to you. You have no time to ponder what it means before he’s pushing his cock inside of you. 

No matter how many times he fucks you, no matter how long he prepares you for, it’s always a stretch. He’s so big that he fills you completely, the head of his cock pressing against that spot inside of you perfectly. He parts your walls around him, an almost painful stretch. 

He keeps a hand on your hip, using it as leverage as he pulls out and drives himself into you. He keeps a desperate, brutal pace, bottoming out with every thrust. The curve of his cock has him rubbing against your walls, pressing into your g-spot with every shift of his hips. His balls smack against your pussy, shining with your juices. 

His hand digs in hard enough to bruise, the other reaching around to rub your clit. “So tight,” he groans, “ ‘s like your pussy never wants me to leave.”

You whine, bending your back and allowing him a better angle. He slams into you roughly, knocking all of the breath out of your lungs with the impact of his hips against yours. 

His thrusts start to get sloppier, his orgasm building right along with yours. He pulls you up so that your back is flush with his, his cock getting dangerously close to your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, kissing at your neck, “fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“M-me too!”

He pounds into you at a desperate pace. “G-gonna cum inside you,” he groans. “Gonna fuckin’ cum in you, cum right inside that little womb of yours.”

“Wrio~”

He shoved you forwards. “Gonna breed this pussy, hm? Then you’ll have to stay with me—fuck.”

His cock twitches inside of you as he bottoms out for the last time, holding you flush to his thighs as hot ropes of cum fill you up. He sucks and bites at your neck as he finishes cumming inside of you, letting you fall onto your face against the bed. 

He keeps his cock inside of you, effectively plugging you with his cum. He gives you no time to recover before he’s flipping you into your back, throwing your legs over his shoulders. 

“Wrio—it’s too much!” 

He smirks at you, something feral behind those crystalline eyes. “You’re not going anywhere,” he grunts, thrusting into you. “Not until you’re nice and full.”

You’re surprised that he manages to keep the pace he does, fucking his cum back into you with renewed vigour. He leans over you, giving himself better access to slam into your pussy. You cry out with every thrust, raking your nails down his back.

It’s so sensitive, it’s too much, but fuck, does it feel so good. “T-too deep,” you whine, your own words sounding foreign and far away to you. “Too big.”

He laughs, “but you’re taking it so well, sweetheart. And doesn’t it feel so good?”

You nod, babbling incoherently into his ear. Sweat beads down your temples, tears coat your lashes. Your skin takes on a feverish sheen, but you don’t care. All you care about is the feeling of his cock slamming into you and how his arms flex with every thrust. 

His thrusts start to get sloppy, his pace slowing down to a steady rhythm. He lets himself collapse on top of you, effectively folding you in half. 

“Gonna fill you up,” he groans. “Gonna fucking breed you and keep you nice and full. Make you my little whore and keep you here with me.”

You whine, black spots starting to crowd your vision. His thrusts are slow and deep now, his hips moving into you brutally. 

“You’d like that, hm? You said you wanted a family,” he bottoms out inside of you, his cum flooding your pussy. “I’m just giving you what you asked for.”

The combination of his cum and his cock inside of you has you feeling so full it almost hurts. Your senses have dulled, all of your thoughts of leaving having been fucked away. 

Wriothesley lays on top of you, bowing his head into your shoulder. His dark hair tickles your collar bone, his lips pressing against the flushed skin of your chest. 

“Did so well for me,” he mumbles into your skin, “such a good girl.”

You can only nod, running your fingers through his hair to try and ground yourself. You lay there in silence for a while—just him breathing into your chest and you stroking his hair. 

After a while, he props himself up. That same soft look has returned to his eyes, “you’re not really going to leave, right?”

It’s posed like a question but sounds more like a plea. His cock is still inside of you, more and more cum running out as it’s softened. You still feel dizzy from the overstimulation, but looking at him now, you don’t see how you could possibly leave. 

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m not going to leave.”

[sigilslvt]

Just the Tip • Drabble

☣︎ Summary: Now in your senior year of college, you're ready to live it up and enjoy party season. Halloween parties have picked up and this year, you're in for a new kind of treat. One from someone you’d never expect.

Includes: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, and Sukuna

Tags: fem! reader, friends to lovers, thigh fucking, unprotected, dubcon, teasing, bulging, dry humping, choking, breeding, praise, degradation, semi-public sex, cockwarming, oral (fem! receiving), ass eating (fem! receiving), raw sex, sweaty sex, overstim, noncon if you squint, double penetration, cumflation

WC: 5.6k

A/N: I’m so sorry to Sukuna lovers, I just think this is how the first time would go LOL!

༒︎ Gojo Satoru ༒︎

You have no idea how you got into this situation with your best friend of all people, but with the way every hair you have stands on edge at Satoru’s heavy breathing behind you, you couldn’t care less. You’re currently leaning forward on his kitchen counter, his oversized shirt and an apron adorning your body. The counter and apron are smeared with brownie batter from the baking you were attempting before Gojo lost it and started spewing unbelievable things into your ear from behind.

“Fuck, sugar, why d’you always do this to me?” He’d asked, standing at the archway that marked the entrance to his kitchen, leaning on it and crossing his arms as he eyed you. You looked at him, clearly confused, but enamored at how he’d lower his voice.

“Do what, idiot?” You asked, chuckling while you started to mix all of the ingredients for the brownie batter together. You had no idea what was going on in his unpredictable head, but you definitely didn’t think it would be this.

He answered by coming up to you, standing behind you and softly trailing his fingertips up your thighs, making you shiver. It was then that you’d felt him, or rather a part of him nestling rock hard between your plush ass cheeks. “This.” He clarifies, letting you know he considers you to be responsible for his painfully hard cock. His hands move up to your hips, holding you firm as he rocks his own forward, the delicious friction pulling such a needy whine from his wet lips.

It was music to your ears. Which is why you didn’t stop him when he continued to seek the pleasure he craved by fucking his cock against your clothed ass. You didn’t say a word when he whined for more and lifted the apron and shirt you wore, revealing your thongs that just so happened to match the cerulean blue of his eyes. You didn’t even say anything when he whipped out his red-tipped cock that looked just angry. Like it was pissed for being made to wait so long to come out.

Now here you were, head bowed and hands gripping the cold marble countertop while he begs, and begs, and begs, in your ear, his voice shaky and tip spreading precum on your thighs as he rocks it forward and then back again to tease your aching hole, leaving it fluttering around nothing. “C-Can’tcha-hah- just let me put it in, sweetness?” He asks, licking a stripe up your neck to get you to straighten your head, his hand gripping your chin to turn it toward him.

You shake your head, unable to form words with the way your mind is just reeling trying to grasp how baking brownies turned into pushing boundaries with Satoru of all people.

“Why? Y’know I can feel how wet you are f’me, right? D’know if I believe you don’t want it. You sure?” He emphasizes the last word by pressing flush against your ass, his tip nudging your clit on the way forward, making your breath hitch in your throat.

You tug your lower lip between your teeth, brows furrowing as you subconsciously chase your own pleasure by grinding back and forth when he stops. His breath fans over the back of your ear as he chuckles. You feel his lips behind your ear and you sigh, resting your head back on his shoulder. “D’wanna r-ruin our friendship, Toru…” You whine and another chuckle comes from deep in his chest, just mocking you.

“Mmm, I think friendship went out the window when y’started letting me touch you five minutes ago, baby. Think we’ll be okay.” He purrs in your ear and you let out a shaky breath. “But… if you’re not sure… we can test the waters, can’t we? Just the tip, hmm? ‘N if you don’t want it, I”ll stop. Promise.” He assures you. Deep down in your filthy little mind, you know it won’t just be the tip. You know you’ll want him more. If you didn’t know that, you wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.

Your head bobs up and down in a nod and he grunts out in approval, kissing behind your ear once more before looking down to grab his swollen length, leaning back slightly so he can align himself with your weeping hole. His breath hitches in his chest as he coats himself with your slick before pushing the tip in oh so carefully. Just that alone makes you keen and you whimper, your hips subconsciously pushing back, just aching for more of that delicious stretch that you know he can deliver., but he holds you steady, resting his forehead forward on your shoulder and breathing in shakily. “‘M holding true to my word, sweetheart. Just the tip. But-ngh,” he grunts when your hole twitches around his bulbous tip, beckoning him. “Y’know I’ve never been able to tell you no. J’sask me. Please ask me.” He begs, his hands shaking on your hips as he focuses so hard on not pushing further into your twitching hole.

You waste no time, nodding and whimpering out a “please…”

Before you can even register it, he drives his hips harshly into yours, scraping his way down your slick canal in, in, in until he can’t anymore, biting down onto your shoulder hard. He stills himself, reveling in how you squeeze him, creating a creamy white ring around the base of his pulsing cock. You cry out as his body jolts forward in response to your hole twitching and he releases your shoulder from his painful bite. “Jeez, sugar, if I had-hah, if I had known you felt this good, I woulda done this forever ago.” He groans into your ear.

You can’t help yourself when your usual wit shines through the haze of lust and you respond. “You really think I would’ve let you? Th-This isn’t that great.” You lie, but sell it with a smirk.

That has him just aching to prove you wrong. “Y’gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

And the next hours are spent getting railed into a mindless cocksleeve, plaps and squelches sounding out through the kitchen while he smirks and grunts, ah! ah! ah! just spilling from your lips again and again and again.

༒︎ Geto Suguru ༒︎

You’re sat on the couch with your loving boyfriend with his body cocooning around you, keeping you warm and safe from any ghosts that you’re sure are going to pop out of the screen that lights up with scenes from a horror movie. You can’t focus entirely on the flick, however, because your body is so in tune with his. With every movement he makes. He’s not even doing much: light brushing of his fingers along your forearm here, nuzzling his cheek against your hair there. But it’s enough. Enough to make your heart race.

His beats steady against your back, the thump, thump, thump filling you with shame at how yours is pitter pattering away at the proximity, matching your second heartbeat. Your body feels like it’s been thrown into a lava pit, just scorching. What you’re most aware of, though, is the thick meat that rests against your ass. It isn’t even hard, it’s just nestled against you so comfortably. How calm Suguru is right now makes you wonder if you’re just some cock-crazed slut, your cheeks burning hotter at realization that he’s probably so oblivious to what you’re thinking because of how respectful he always is toward you.

Until you squirm ever so slightly, shuddering at the feel of his other hand moving to stroke his fingers against the skin on your tummy. That’s when you realize he knows exactly what’s on your mind– because it’s on his, too. “Oh? Finally slipped up, hmm?” He breathes against your ear, your eyes rolling back into your head at the sound of his sultry voice just tickling against your skin.

“Wha–what d’you mean?” You breathe out, eyes squeezing closed as you try not to make any movements again. You hate that he’s been working you up knowingly this whole time, just reveling in your struggle. You hate that you definitely wore your raciest undergarments to his house in the hopes that this would finally happen. But you can’t give in immediately, no, you’re not ready for him to know just how badly you need this.

He chuckles, his breath tickling your skin before he kisses your neck, strands of his hair fanning along your face. “Can feel your heart beating so fast against my chest, angel.” He tells you and his hand moves from your stomach to grip your hip, keeping you still as he grinds forward, his now painfully hard cock just raking against your ass, the clothes between you doing nothing to even dampen the pleasure you get from the action.

“‘S’cause of the m-movie, baby… got scared.” Your voice doesn’t come out as certain and strong as you’d like, earning another harsh grind from him.

He tut, tut, tuts, and nips your ear. “Tell me what just happened, then. Or anything that’s happened in the last ten minutes. Or maybe I should just feel how wet you are, surely your other hole won’t lie as much as this one, hmm?” He says before he grabs your cheeks, squishing them in his big hand as he turns your face to meet his in a hungry kiss, hips rocking against yours. The friction is deliciously maddening and you moan into his mouth, eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure. 

He groans when you start to push back against him, your bodies mashing together, both of you hopelessly trying to get closer as your breathing picks up, but the clothes are stopping you. You want to ask for more, but you won’t give your sneaky boyfriend the satisfaction. You feel his other hand snake up from under you and move to your neck, choking you ever so slightly for just a moment before tightening when he pulls away from the kiss. “Y’want me to take care of you, pretty girl? Ask nicely f’me and I will.” He hums in your ear, grinding forward against your ass impossibly harder, his grip on your hip just bruising.

“I–fuck– ‘m okay wi-with this, Sugu…” You moan out, earning a dark chuckle from him. You feel his grip on your throat tightens and you mewl, hips bucking as saliva pools in your mouth and you fight the urge to go dumb and drool while your breath escapes you.

“Yeah? So you won’t mind if I stop, right?” He asks, his movements halting, leaving you grinding against air as he backs his lower body away from you, his grips on your neck and hips getting even tighter. The smile on his face is knowing. Sadistic. Fucking sexy. It chips away at your resolve.

Blushing and looking away from him, you speak up. “M-Maybe just the tuh-tip?” You stumble over your words when you choke them out, silently cursing yourself out. He releases his grip on your neck just enough to allow you to breathe better and removes his hand from your hip to hastily pull down your silly halloween pajama shorts and your lace thong. So much for being gawked at in them. You can feel him lifting himself to pull his sweatpants down as he places hot wet kisses along the shell of your ear.

“Just the tip? Gotcha, angel, I’ll give you just that, hah.” He promises with a smirk, smacking his burning hot length against your ass twice before releasing your throat to wrap his entire arm around your neck, steeling himself as his tip just kisses at your sodden hole, but not entering. You feel his lips on your temple and you shudder, turning your head and biting down onto his bicep as he pushes his fat tip past your puffy folds, stopping once it’s in. “H-hah… fuckin’ drenched, baby, you’re so fuckin’ nasty. Y’wanted this so bad, didn’t you?” He asks, grunting his way through the sentence as though this was killing him.

“Su-Suguuuu~” is all you can get out, voice muffled by his muscles pressed up against your mouth. It’s almost like your hole does the talking for you, twitching away around him like it’s saying his name in morse code. You whine at how it feels like he’s burning so hot, melting you from the inside. You need more.

“Shhh, sh, sh, angel, I know. I know this isn’t enough for you, my dirty fuckin’ girl. So, here… take it.” He lets out a breathy chuckle before he continues to push forward past that first ring of resistance, just in, in, in until his shaft is stretching your walls to their limits. You’re soaking him every inch of the way, pushing back against him as you let out a moan of relief.

But he doesn’t pull back. He stays there. The hand that’d been holding your hips steady moves to juuust above your pelvis, where a prominent bulge catches your eye, making you drool. The second he pushes down on it, you see stars and bite down into his flesh again, core twitching and spasming so hard, nearly pushing him out with how tight you are. “Pl-please, Sugu! So fuh-full, just move!” You beg and he scoffs, shaking his head.

“Ask. Nicely. Gonna have to get used to using that pretty voice of yours to ask for what you really want, pretty girl.” He teases, keeping both you and himself as still as statues. If you weren’t reeling from the way his cock stretches you out, you’d fight him back, be a brat, the whole show. But all you want is to feel more of him.

“Please fuck me, baby… feels s’good, pretty please? Need you so bad…” You whine out, the sound is music to his ears and in response, he pulls back to deliver a mean thrust back into your warm, wet, welcoming heat.

“Good girl. Good. Fuckin’. Girl.” He emphasizes the last three words with three thrusts on time with them, each one stronger than the last. His arm around your neck tightens and his lips brush your ear as he speaks again. “Tuh-ngh-take it. Know you’ve wanted this shit so bad, ‘m’gonna make all this waiting up to you.” He grits out, his other hand moving from your pelvis down to your clit, his fingers rubbing slow, unforgiving circles on it as he starts up a rhythm, his length massaging your walls in a way that makes your head spin.

It’s like he can tell what’s going on in your head and he bites your ear lobe. “Mmm mm mm, don’t check out now, pretty girl, we’ve got a long night ahead of us.” He says, slapping your clit to clear the haze from your already fucked out brain.

Before you know it, you’re being pumped full of cock and cum all over the living room until night turns to morning and your legs can’t hold you up anymore. Thankfully your loving boyfriend had the common decency to bathe you both and tuck you into bed… with his cock tucked neatly inside of you.

༒︎ Toji Fushiguro ༒︎

“Heh, look at you. So fuckin’ greedy.” Toji’s voice sounds out from below, his voice vibrating against your puffed out folds as he pumps a finger in and out of your sloppy, spit-soaked hole. His other hand snakes around your thigh, holding you in place so you stop squirming and he can eat your pulsing pussy properly, a frustrated whine leaving your lips at the loss of his tongue working your clit.

It wasn’t always like this. You used to just admire the daunting man between your legs from afar every time you came into the gym and saw him here. It was routine at this point– come into the gym, run beside him on the treadmill, head to do bicep curls and watch as he walked closer to you to do pull ups, start doing romanian deadlifts with your ass toward him, and then he’d leave and you’d be left to finish your workout.

It’d been like that for months. Until today. Today, something snapped. You thought he was gone when you went to use the sauna post-workout and he was there in nothing but a towel around his waist. You had every intention of leaving, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t stop staring at the way sweat beaded on his chest and fell down his torso, dipping between his abs before disappearing into the towel. It was like your brain had shut down.

“Y’kay, doll?” He asked, making your eyes snap up to his face, the saliva in your mouth drying up instantly. “You can come in, y’know. Max capacity is two people. ‘M not gonna bite.” He smirked and fuck did you wanna lick that scar that marred his lips so badly. You turned to close the door so the steam didn’t come out, locking it behind you as the instructions say to do when at max occupancy. When you turned, your feet dragged you forward and you sat across from him, making him chortle.

“Wha-what’s funny?” You willed yourself to ask, thighs clenching impossibly tight as you tried to keep your eyes on his, not daring to look lower again.

“Yer just a funny one, doll.” He shook his head as he responded, that fucking smirk not wavering once. When he noticed the questioning look on your face, he chuckled again. “‘S’just… you spend an hour drooling and staring at me like a kitten in heat three times a week ‘n now that you’re close, you act like you’re gonna croak. C’mere. I said I don’t bite.” He mocked you, patting his lap.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel shame. You knew you should’ve with how confident he was, his look told you he was one hundred percent certain you’d be coming to him. If you hadn’t been so turned on, you would’ve been incredibly pissed at how presumptuous he was. Had you truly been that obvious when looking at him? You never even saw him look at you once, how could he have noticed?

With those questions in your head, you stood to walk to him, sitting yourself on his lap. His hand wasted no time in resting on the exposed flesh of your thigh, your towel having ridden up to expose more of it to him when you took your seat. “S-So, what? Gonna make fun of me? Not very nice of you.” You said, a soft pout on your lips.

“‘S a good thing I’ve never claimed to be a nice guy. Now, I don’t do quickies and I don’t have time to fuck you the way I want to, so yer gonna have to settle for letting me taste that pussy and sweet sweet ass y’been taunting me with when you bend over in front of me.” He said, patting your thigh as his other hand grabbed your chin, making sure you saw the look on his face that told you he was dead serious.

And that’s how you ended up here. His large hand wrapped around your thigh while he pumps an unreasonably large finger into you. You’re drenched in sweat from the heat of the sauna, back arched up off the bench and him? God, he looks so fucking good with his hair slick, sticking to his forehead and face while he stares up at you, his tongue laying flat against your throbbing clit before he sucks on it, letting it go with a pop that makes your body jolt. 

He moves down lower, removing his finger from your hole and wrapping around the opposite thigh as he lifts you just slightly. Enough so that he can get to what he’s really been aching for. He presses one sweet kiss to your weeping hole before going lower, tongue tracing around the ring that rests between your plump ass cheeks. He spits on it sloppily before lapping at it, his face moving side to side between your cheeks as he hungrily tongues the tiny puckering hole that flutters for him. That does it for you, making your hips roll with his movements.

He returns to sucking on your clit, flicking it while it’s in his mouth, eyes closed like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. “God, pl-please… please, I need more. Juh-Just the tip, I–” You whine, squirming under his tongue as you reach a hand down to snake your fingers in his hair, gently tugging to emphasize how much you need him. He looks up and the look on your face makes his eyes roll back into his head, a long groan leaving his lips before he releases your clit again, this time moving up your body, removing his towel at the same time.

“Toji.” He grunts, hand rubbing his massive cock head between your folds, gathering your slick on it before he strokes himself to spread it.

“Huh?” You ask, confused.

“The name yer gonna be screaming. Toji. And you will be screaming, ‘cause no way am I just givin’ you the tip, doll.” He smirks, dipping his head into your neck as he abruptly rolls his hips forward into yours, bullying his painfully large cock directly into your grateful hole. The sound that comes from between you is just sinful and he’s right, you do scream.

“Toh-Toji! Fuck!” You wrap your arms around his frame, having no time to steady yourself before his hips are barreling into yours and he’s fucking you like a man crazed. Your wet bodies collide harshly, pap, pap, papping away in the sauna, the sounds echoing within while your cacophony of moans and cries no doubt reach the outside. Like clockwork, he lifts himself up just slightly, propping himself up on one arm and raising his hand to your mouth, covering it entirely.

“Shh, shut the fuck up. Goddamn– ah– greedy whore. Not gonna get caught before I can fill this fuckin’ pussy up with my cum. Can’t fuckin’ have that, no… not after the fuckin’ torture–” he delivers a harsher thrust into you, “you’ve been putting me through.” He grunts out.

Your brows furrow together in pleasure and confusion, but he continues talking before you can think of what he means. “Every other fuckin’ day makin’ me need to leave early j-heh-just so I can get myself off in my car. Fuuuck’ve been thinkin’ of this ass for months, makin’ myself cum to the memories of you bending over in front of me acting soooo fuh-fuckin’ innocent like you didn’t know what you were doing. Time for you to take. responsibility.” He finishes the sentence with two hard thrusts, making you dig your nails into his back, angry red crescents sure to be left there by the end of this all.

Even his palm covering your mouth isn’t enough to muffle your cries of pleasure from the way he’s pitting your pussy with his cock, just digging into it again and again and again, mercilessly railing you while his arms other hand moves to take one of your legs, folding it up toward your chest. His sweat drips from his forehead down onto your hair and the image that appears in his head is too hard to resist. “Open.” He grunts out, removing his palm from your mouth and folding your other leg up.

You know exactly what he means, opening up your mouth and sticking your tongue out, moaning loudly as he spits a nasty fucking glob of saliva dead center on your tongue. You swallow it gratefully, opening your mouth for more. His eyes widen and he chuckles, resting his body weight on you to keep you folded while he uses a hand to wrap around your cheek and chin. “Nasty fuckin’ bitch, yer so fuckin’ sexy.” He says, smacking your face hard three times before spitting on your tongue again.

Loud banging sounds out from the door of the sauna and you can just barely hear the manager’s voice telling you both to vacate the premises or he’ll call the cops, the sound of Toji’s body colliding with yours far too loud to make out the exact words. You whine, a pout forming on your lips at the situation, but he doesn’t stop, no, he doesn’t even slow down. “Get the fuck outta here ‘less you wanna lose your head, chump!” He shouts out and the banging stops. “Guess ‘m gonna have to be quicker than I’d like to be. Hold on, doll.” He grunts, somehow fucking into you faster.

And hold on you did. Thing was, he wasn’t quick. He fucked your aching hole for thirty more minutes before dumping his load inside of you, making you wonder what WASN’T quick to him. In the end, you both were served with bans from the gym, but it’s okay because you knew he’d be working you out better than anything from then on.

༒︎ Choso Kamo ༒︎

You’re sat atop your pretty boyfriend, straddling him while you mold his hair into two cute ponytails. His hands are on your hips, fingers twitching as he pants, making you frown in concern. “What’s wrong, pretty boy?” You ask, resting back on his lap entirely so you’re at eye level with him. His face is red and his eyes squeezed shut. You chuckle softly and place a hand on his cheek, making him open his eyes and lean into your touch. “What is it?” Your voice sounds out again, gentle… soothing.

He blushes deeper and hides his face in your palm, groaning. “You were s-so close. Your… y’know… were right in front of my face.” He whines and you quirk a brow, confused. A few seconds pass and you get it, trying not to smile too much.

“My what?” You ask, amused by his shyness. He groans again, looking back at you and pouting. You want to kiss his pretty pink lips so badly to make that pout go away, but you can’t help but tease him a little first.

“Baby… don’t do that. You know what I mean.” A deeper pout forms on his face when he realizes you’re not going to let up. “Your tits… and you’re s-so warm on my lap, I just… I didn’t wanna… I-I had to focus on not changing down there. But, I-I couldn’t stop it.” He says, looking down shamefully between you both.

You follow his eyes to see a scary bulge in his grey sweatpants that nearly makes you choke. You’re not blind, of course you’ve seen a slight imprint from time to time, but this? This was fucking worlds different. He’s massive. You suck your teeth, fake pouting and looking back up at him, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “Awww, baby… it must have been so uncomfortable trying to hold back and ending up this hard.” You mock him, palming him oh so slowly over his pants. His entire body quivers and his eyelids squeeze shut again, a pained moan coming from those pretty lips of his. “You want me to help?” You ask.

“Mhm…” is all he offers, eyes still shut.

“Cho… y’gotta tell me what you want, pretty boy. How else am I supposed to know how to help?” You ask and his length twitches beneath your hand. His eyes snap open and his hands grip your hips painfully, him being entirely oblivious to how hard he’s gripped you.

“C-Can I… just put the tip in? Please?” He asks and this time it’s your eyes that go wide, your heart thumping harder in your chest. You two have never even fooled around before, you never thought he’d ask to do something like this right away. As shocked as you are, the moisture that begins to pool between your legs only serves to compel you to indulge him.

You nod, gulping. As though he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he doesn’t act fast enough, he lifts his hips and pulls his sweatpants and boxers down, freeing his leaky cock from the confines of the cotton clothes. You try not to show him how scared you are that he might just split you in two on his cock even with just the tip, your hands moving to rid yourself of your own shorts and underwear, tossing them off his bed.

His hands pull you closer and he strokes his cock a few times, grunting. You realize his eyes haven’t left yours once since he pulled his pants down. He’s so stuck on you, your sweet Choso. “Cho… u-use me to get yourself wet.” You say, reaching down to grab his length and swiping it back and forth between your folds. He whines and shudders before gripping one of your ass cheeks in his hand and nodding at you.

“I c-can do it.” He says, taking his cock out of your hand and positioning it at your hole. You slide down just slightly, his thick tip just tearing into you and nestling within that ring of resistance he’s growing to love so much. “O-oh… B-baby…” he stutters out, the hand that was holding his cock sliding up to your shoulder.

“Ch-Cho… s’fucking bi-ngh-big! S’good!” You whimper out. You almost hear his resolve snap and before you know it, his nails are digging into your hip and shoulder and he’s digging into you, using his strength to force you up and down his angry cock like nothing more than a fleshlight.

“H-oh fuck! Feels s’good, baby! S’good, s’good, s’fuckin’ good!” He whines out again and again, yanking your body down into his so roughly that you think you might break, but you don’t stop him, you love it. He’s knocked the wind out of you with how rough he’s being with you– a stark contrast to his normally soft behavior. Your clit meets his trimmed pelvis with every time your bodies meet, providing even more mind numbing stimulation and you finally catch your breath just enough to let out a long cry, his name falling off your tongue. “Ohmyfuckkinggod, don’t stop saying my name, baby, please.” He begs and you oblige.

He beats, and beats, and beats at your cervix like a fucking whack-a-mole game, no rhythm to his staggered thrusts, just pure lust while he whimpers and whines. “S’good, s’good, s’good.” He repeats again and again and again, just in an absolute trance as he revels in the feeling of your tight walls gripping him like your life depends on it, a creamy white ring forming around the base of his cock while you drip down them.

And again, you manage to open your eyes enough to realize his eyes are still on your face. They likely never moved. He’s watching every reaction you have, every time your lips fall open in a moan, every time your eyes close while you try to steel yourself. He’s drinking it in, committing it to memory. Worshiping you with those dark brown orbs of his.

“F-fuh-fuck! Don’t stop, pr-ngh-pretty boy… my pretty boy.” You moan out.

And he doesn’t. Not until he cums in you for the nth time and you pass out from exhaustion.

༒︎ Ryomen Sukuna ༒︎

“Pleeeeeease, Kuna?” You ask, pouting as you glide the shaft of one of Sukuna’s cocks between your soaked folds. You guys have been fucking around for the last hour and you’ve been trying to convince him to let you take both cocks at the same time.

“Are you insane, girl? You’ve yet to take one of my cocks and yet you want both? In the same hole, no less. You must have a death wish.” He denies you, folding all four of his arms and leaning back against the headboard of your bed.

In an act of defiance, you huff. “Just the tips? Please!” You beg him, trying your best to give him the pout he always folded for. Just like that… his frown breaks and instead, he rolls his eyes.

“You are absolutely insufferable. Disobedient. A pain.” He tells you, making you giggle and clap your hands. Two of his arms unfold, opening up to you. You waste no time moving forward, having to nearly stand to hover over his cocks. Thankfully he keeps you steady by holding your thighs in his large hands.

“I-I can do it. D’need your help.” You pout, and he chuckles, not making a move to try to push you down or ease himself in. You take a deep breath, rubbing both tips between your dripping lips and you’re sure you hear him choke on his breath, but you choose to chalk it up to your imagination. With that, you sink down slowly onto both of his cocks, just until you get past the ring of his mushroom tips, your eyelids squeezed shut as the pain tears through you for just a moment.

That pain is interrupted, however, when your attention is drawn to Sukuna grunting loudly, his cocks throbbing for a few moments before shocking you by spurting cum so far up inside you that you would have thought you sat on a fire hydrant and not his cocks. You whine out, brows furrowing as he spurts string after string of hot sticky cum fill your cavern, some naturally seeping out of the ring and dripping down his lengths.

Your eyes snap open wide and you look dead into his. You can’t even help the laugh that slips past your lips as you speak. “D-Did you just–”

“Shut the fuck up. Shut. The fuck. UP!” He hisses out, one of his top hands grabbing your throat and choking the air out of it while the other aids his other two hands in shoving you down all the way on his cocks. “Yer gonna fuckin’ regret laughing at me, you insignificant human.” He grunts out.

And he spends the next few rounds cumming quicker than you before he FINALLY gets used to the warm, wet, bliss that is your pussy– following through with his promise to make you regret laughing soon thereafter.

[miupow]

[duality.] ─── ⋆ h. kai

an unexpected discovery about a friend sends you spiraling-- sure, hueningkai was cute, but he wasn't your type. at least, you thought he wasn't.

✩ pairing. huening kai x fem!reader

✩ words. 10k

✩ warnings. nsfw, mdnfi! smut with plot, f2l, graphic depictions of bdsm/rough sex, hard dom!kai, sub!reader, fem!reader, swearing, explicit language, mentions of alcohol/drinking, jealousy, wingman tyun and roommate yeonjun, gags, blindfolds, bondage, handcuffs, spanking, paddles, protected sex, manhandling, dry humping, sir kink, pet names, praise kink, dirty talk, degradation, degredation/name calling, jake from enhpyen cameo, possible dubcon elements, possessive behavior, nipple play, slight breeding kink, breath play/choking, cute ending hehe

✩ a/n. here it is!! duality, all three parts put together into one big oneshot!! i've been putting off finishing this fic for the longest time which is so criminal of me i know... i hope this makes up for it ♡ feedback in the forms of comments and reblogs are always appreciated! this is not proofread! please lmk if there are any mistakes!

You don't remember when Friday night get-togethers became "let's all listen to Beomgyu complain" get-togethers, but you could hardly complain-- hearing about your friend's failed attempts at wooing his coworker made you feel infinitely better about your own love life.

"I just don't get it," Beomgyu sighs deeply, swishing his beer around like he was debating on some deep philisophical theory. He was squished into the side of Taehyun's too-small couch, legs hanging off of the armrest and head awkwardly lying on Soobin's broad shoulder. "I'm hilarious and I'm smoking hot-- why is it so hard for me to find a girlfriend?!"

"That's because you're a loser." Your roommate, Yeonjun snorted. He was splayed out on the other end of the couch, effortlessly beating Soobin, Beomgyu and Hueningkai in Mario Kart, legs manspread so wide Taehyun (who was squished against Soobin's other side) looked about ready to hit him.

"I don't know, have you tried asking her out instead of following her around like a creep? She probably thinks you're stalking her." Taehyun snickered, very engrossed in his phone. You could see him trying to close Yeonjun's legs with his knee. It was not working.

"Also, you have no game." Soobin added, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he concentrated on the game. You were fairly sure part of the reason why he was losing so badly was because both of his arms were constricted to his sides. "Absolutely zero rizz, dude."

"Zero rizz," Hueningkai echoed with a giggle. Forever the smart and resourceful one, he chose to sit cross-legged on the carpet instead of squeezing himself on the couch-- you followed suit, not wanting to be in a sweaty sandwich with your roommate and his buddies. "I bet you haven't even said a word to her."

you sat with Kai near Yeonjun's legs, head propped up on the front of the couch as you snacked on popcorn. Hueningkai successfuly threw a blue shell at Yeonjun's kart-- your roommate's legs kicked out sharply, almost hitting you square in the head, and he let out a sharp "FUCK!"

"I have!" Beomgyu defended, sounding very much like a petulant child. "I talk to her all of the time! I asked her for her number, I made her a spotify playlist, I walk her to her car every night after our shifts--"

"None of that is asking her out though, hyung." Taehyun still hasn't looked up from his phone. "Did she give you her number?"

"No!" Beomgyu whined loudly, making everyone wince. "She said I haven't earned it yet!"

"It sounds like she's playing hard to get, maybe? Girls like it when guys pine." You supply, talking instead of listening for the first time in a while. You loved Beomgyu like a brother, and while it was funny to listen to his failed flirting you did want him to actually, you know, be happy. Plus he seemed to care about this girl beyond what her cupsize was, which was a pretty big deal for Beomgyu.

"More like she wants him to leave her alone." Hueningkai snickered back. “Hyung, I’ve not seen you this down bad since, like, grade school.”

“At least he’s not filling us in on his latest hookup,” Soobin shrugged, or at least tried to-- Beomgyu was now purposefully sitting on him. “Beomgyu might be a simp but I honestly see this as an improvement.”

“I’m not a fucking simp!” Beomgyu squawked, feigning hitting Soobin over the head with his controller. “I at least get more pussy than you losers— when was the last time Kai managed to bag a girl without her running away screaming first?”

The boys all laughed-- even Taehyun, which was weird--as if Beomgyu had made a joke that made sense. Kai? Scaring away girls? You’ve known him for years now, him being Yeonjun's friend and all, and while you didn't know him inside and out you were fairly sure he still slept with stuffed animals. Jesus, last time you had come over his only priority was showing off his Gundam.

“I think Kai would be the one running away screaming, honestly,” you laugh, expecting the others to follow, but you were quickly met with awkward silence. The boys all looked at you oddly, especially Beomgyu, who looked both deeply betrayed and like he had just gained some arcane secret. “…What? This is Huening we’re talking about, come on.”

“Yeah, Huening.” Beomgyu started, looking at you like you had grown an extra head. “It's always over when he starts going Fifty Shades on them."

"He starts going what?!" You sat up very suddenly, whipping your head around to stare at Hueningkai incredulously-- he was refusing to look at you, starting very intently at the TV screen, even though the game had ended minutes ago. The tips of his ears were cherry red. "You start going what?!"

"Oh my God, she doesn't know!" Yeonjun cackled madly, turning to look incredulously at Taehyun, who looked back with a wild grin. "She doesn't know!"

"I don't know what?" You felt a little betrayed by Taehyun, you had to be honest-- if anyone would have kept their head on, it would have been him. "Kai, what are they talking about?"

Kai was still refusing to make eye contact with you, instead glaring sharp daggers at his friends-- he genuinely looked angry, which was an emotion you weren't used to seeing on Hueningkai. "Don't worry about it, they're being dicks--"

"Hueningie likes to beat girls!" Beomgyu sang, his cute corner dimples popping out in his delighted, evil smile and making him look absolutely devilish. "He likes to treat girls like sluts!"

Kai was very very silent and worryingly still, nearly burning holes in the carpet with his stare. You furrowed your brow, blanched— that wasn’t the reaction you were expecting from him at all.

"There's no way you have no idea, Y/N, I mean-- you're joking, right? You've known him for forever now." Soobin cut in, looking genuinely confused.

"You've been in his room! Like, a thousand times!" Yeonjun laughed. "He's so fucking bad about putting all of his gross shit away-- once I saw handcuffs still attached to the headboard!"

You blinked.

This had to be some sort of joke. They were fucking with you, they had to be. "Are you trying to tell me that Hueningkai, OUR Hueningkai, is-- no he's not?! Have you met him? He collects Squishmallows!"

"You haven't looked under his bed yet, then." Taehyun snickered, once again on his phone-- you spluttered, both at his words and his nonchalance. Kai was still eerily silent.

"You've got to be joking. This is a joke. I don't think Kai's seen a pair of boobs in his life--"

"I’m not a virgin, you know." Hueningkai muttered stiffly, looking at you for the first time in a while. The residual anger he had for his friends lingered on his blushing, usually lax face, staring you down with an intensity you didn't think he could muster-- your stomach flipped hard, nearly having you recoil under his stare.

It took you an embarrassing second to register what he even said. "Oh. Um--"

"I'm not some fucking loser." Hueningkai repeated, voice calm but deep, deep dark, and it hit you quite suddenly that he was actually upset with you, not his friends. You had never heard Kai swear before. "Is it really that hard for you to believe? You don't know me.“

“Um, I—“ you spluttered, opening and closing your mouth like a fish.

“It’s like you think I'm some spineless, bitchless nerd or something-- it pisses me off, honestly, and I'm getting really fucking sick of it."

You were unable to choke out any words at all as Hueningkai pulled himself up sharply from the floor and stomped away into his room-- It was awkwardly silent for a few deeply conflicting moments, but Beomgyu was quick to pick back up the laughter.

"Someone's mad! Better watch out, Y/N, Hueningie might punish you for that!"

“Are you a slut?” Hueningkai hisses, big hand palming your bare ass– you whimper around your gag, tug at the restraints that bind your arms behind your back. “Is that what you are? All you can think about is getting cock, huh?”

Tears were starting to soak the silk of your blindfold, sticking wet and cold to your skin– you had never felt this raw and desperate in your life. “No!” you try to say, but it comes out a muffled whine.

Huening leans in close, hot breath caressing your ear, fabric of his shirt ghosting your back; his grip on your asscheek tightens, fingers digging into the flesh. “I’m sorry baby, didn’t hear you. What was that?”

“I’m not a slut!” you try again, shaking your head wildly, slurred words incomprehensible– drool ran down your chin and neck, dripped onto the bedsheets beneath you, and moving your mouth to speak only made more spill out. You felt disgusting, pathetic, humliated beyond belief… and your wet cunt ached.

“No?” Kai coos, the palm gripping your ass trailing down between your thighs. His fingertips brushed softly against your fluttering folds– the first real touch to your neglected pussy. You sob around the gag. It was nowhere near enough. “Then why are you so wet right now? I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked. You want me to fuck you that bad, huh baby?”

And you wake up before you can answer.

“This is about Huening, isn’t it.” Taehyun states plainly when he answers your call. For a split second, you wished he was less reliable about picking up the phone.

“I haven’t even said anything,” you whine, a little petulant even to your own ears. Taehyun had always been able to read you like a book, read everyone like a book, and it never failed to piss you off and embarrass you.

“You never call me unless it’s about your problems.”

Oh. Well. You suppose that’s true. He was just such a great listener.

“He’s not a problem, I’m just– is he in the room with you right now?”

You can hear Taehyun’s eyeroll reverberate through his sigh. “He’s at class. If you’re calling to apologize, I can leave a message.”

You scoff. “Apologize for what?! I didn’t do anything!”

“I think you hurt his feelings. He hasn’t left his room all week except to go to his classes.” Taehyun sounded more amused than anything else. “You should at least tell him you’re sorry for emasculating him.”

“Emasculating him?!” And this was why you didn’t go to Taehyun when it came to problems involving his own friends. “He’s the one being a big baby about it! How was I supposed to know you guys weren’t joking? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“Tell you what, that Kai’s a freak? We thought you knew. Plus, it’s not like it’s even that big of a deal. You’re both just being weird about it.”

“I’m not being weird about it!” You retort. “I’m just, like– how long have you known?”

Taehyun was quiet for a very long, uncomfortable moment. “Y/N, if you’re about to quiz me on my roommate’s sex life, I will hang up on you.”

“I’m not, I’m not!” You’re glad you’re curled up in bed and not out in public; you’d hate anyone to see you this flustered just over the phone. “I’m just confused on how it was apparently ’so obvious’ and I completely missed it.”

“That’s because he’d been trying to hide it from you. He’s just been doing a shit job– thought you figured it out anyway.”

You blink. “He’s… what? Why?”

Taehyun makes a noise like he’s sucking at his teeth, staticky over the phone. You briefly wonder if he’s actually going to hang up on you. “I promised Kai I wouldn’t tell you this.”

“Tell me what?!” You press with a hiss, grasping your phone harder in your hand– you were getting really sick and tired of everyone beating around the bush with you, like you hadn’t already learned more about Kai in the last few days than you had in the last few years. “Tyun, if it involves me, I think I deserve to know.”

Taehyun hesitates for a moment before letting out a defeated sigh, deep and weighted like some veteran soldier. You want to laugh, really, but you’re too on edge to do much more than hang onto every word Taehyun says. “Kai’s gonna kill me for this.”

“I don’t care. Spill.”

“He’s… interested in you. Has been since he met you, I think. He was playing up that annoying good boy act ‘cos he didn’t want to ’scare you away.’”

You let out a breath like it had been knocked out of you with a fist, head spinning wildly. Kai was always so sweet and polite, got you gifts, made sure you always felt appreciated and included… but he had never given you the impression that he was into you. He was just like that with everyone.

But now that you thought about it…

Those smiles he seemed to save just for you, adorable and ecstatic like you had completed some insurmountable task for him instead of just getting him a candy bar or a glass of water, the gentlest ’thank you so much'es that made your tummy flip in the best way. Pretty brown eyes wide and sparkling every time he looked at you– he would always furiously turn away like he didn’t want you to catch him staring.

You caught him staring quite a lot. You always assumed you must have had something on your face.

Sweet Hyuka who told you you looked pretty even when you knew you didn’t, stepping into his and Taehyun’s apartment in pajamas because Yeonjun hadn’t told you it was movie night until he was getting ready to leave. Hyuka who would give up his seat so you could sit on the couch. Hyuka who was always the first to stand up for you if one of the other boys made a snide joke in your expense. Hyuka who hugged you first before he addressed anyone else. Hyuka who would sometimes only come out of his room if he was told that you were there. You always thought that Hyuka was a great friend.

Suddenly, the other night made a lot more sense. Just as suddenly, you also felt very, very guilty.

“Oh.” You whisper into the phone, because it had hit you that you hadn’t said anything for quite some time.

“Yeah, 'oh.’ Now he thinks you think he’s a gross pervert.” Taehyun snickers. He’s enjoying your plight far too much.

“I don’t think that.” you retort softly, a little sad.

“You should tell him that, not me.”

“How am I supposed to tell him anything if he won’t pick up the phone?!”

Taehyun’s quiet again, like he’s thinking. “Listen, Yeonjun’s taking us out for drinks Friday to celebrate Kai passing his midterms. I think he’s trying to cheer him up. Ask him to come with; you can talk to Kai then.”

“…Would Kai even want me there?” You ask.

“Probably not, to be honest. Doesn’t matter though, he’s not the one paying, he can go cry about it. Plus, I think hyung was gonna bring you anyway– he thinks this entire thing is hilarious.”

You hesitate for a moment. Not only foes this have bad idea written all over it, you also don’t have anything to wear. “Promise you’ll get me out of there if things get nasty?”

“How would things get nasty?” Taehyun laughs. “The most Kai would do is whine that he wants to go home.”

You should have stayed home.

Taehyun was right– when you brought up the club to Yeonjun, he had enthusiastically mentioned that he was, in fact, going to ask you to come with, and that he was very happy to hear you agree to go. Maybe that should have been your warning.

Huening hadn’t so much as looked to you the entire night. You spotted him immediately when you had stepped into the building, platinum blond hair and an oversized grey hoodie tucked awkwardly into a corner booth, big frame shrunk in on itself like he was trying to come off as small as he possibly could. You felt bad for him, really, watching him stare surly into the same drink he had been nursing the entire night– Kai hates clubs, yet the other boys kept insisting on celebrating with drinks and dancing instead of something Kai would actually enjoy, like a movie. You’re fairly sure Kai was already aware that the night wasn’t really about him and his test scores.

On top of the awkward atmosphere, you feel naked in this dress. You borrowed it from a friend, since you had nothing nice to wear— it was cute, but backless and low cut, and not to mention about two sizes too small. You were afraid to take large breaths, lest your breasts fall out of the top entirely. 

You think you caught Huening staring from the booth as you sat at the bar with Yeonjun, but it might just have been wishful thinking. 

“Just go up and talk to him,” Yeonjun suggests between swigs of his beer. He keeps looking over his shoulder at the dancefloor like he’s hunting for something— most likely a girl to take home with him.

“And what, grovel for his forgiveness? He looks like he wants to kill me.” you grumble around your own glass, half-hoping the liquor would at least spark some confidence. You felt the opposite of confident, in your stupid tight dress, scared of approaching a boy that professed his undying love for Molang on the daily. 

“Maybe he just wants to fuck you. You look hot.” Yeonjun snickers, glancing quickly over at Kai’s booth— from the annoying grin on his face, you can only assume Huening is looking your way. “Go over there and tell him you’ll suck his dick if he’ll forgive you.”

“You’re gross.”

“You love me.” Yeonjun sneaks another look at the dancefloor; it seems he’s locked in on a target. “Gotta bounce. Yell if you need me to come and save you.” 

“I don’t want your saving,” you retort snidely as he slid his way through the crowd. 

You didn’t have any time to relish in your solitude, barely able to even take another sad sip of your cocktail— an unfamiliar body fills Yeonjun’s empty barstool in what felt like an instant, big mouth grinning like he’d been waiting for a while. 

You suppose the eyes that you had felt on you hadn’t been Kai’s after all. Yeonjun’s grins could be decieving.

He orders a beer from the bartender, pretty yet odd accent slurring his words— you weren’t sure where it was from, but you sure did like it. “And another of whatever she’s drinking.” he adds, shooting a grin your way.

“Oh no, I’m alright—” you attempt to shut him down, but your voice wavers. He waves you off with a sweet laugh. 

“It’s on me, baby. You look like you need it.”

You laugh nervously. You weren’t sure if that was supposed to be a diss or not, even including the petname. “Oh, do I?” 

“You look stressed. Something got you down?”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. You’re not sure how to respond to any of this, really. Flirting wasn’t really your forte.  “Just a little.” 

The bartender puts down both of your drinks at once— your handsome new friend pushes yours your way, and you take it gratefully. This isn’t exactly how you wanted your night to go, but this man was hot, free drinks were free drinks, and maybe going home with someone new was a better outcome for your night than moping around alone and having to listen to your roommate get his dick wet. “Did some asshole abandon you over here? You’re far too pretty to be sitting here all sad and alone.” Your stranger croons, eyes heavy as they rake down your body, take in your dress. You squirm under his gaze. “My name’s Jake. What’s yours?” 

“Y/N.” You don’t bother addressing his earlier comment; the idea of talking about your boy problems to this very handsome boy made your skin crawl. “I like your accent, where are you from?” 

“Brisbane.” Jake gave you another pretty, blinding grin. He had a very big mouth with very white teeth. 

“…Pardon?”

“Australia.” Jake laughs. “I’m an Aussie. I was born here though.”

“Oh, I see! Are you here just to visit or do you live here? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, of course—“

“No worries, pretty girl.” He needed to stop with the petnames before you climbed him like a tree. “I live here for right now. Do you want another one of those?”

“Hm?” You looked down at your glass. You hadn’t even noticed that it was empty, just mindlessly holding it up against your lips while you latched on to every word Jake said. “Oh! Um. I’m okay, thank you!” 

Jake seems displeased with your answer. You wonder briefly if he was just trying to get you drunk. It was working. “You sure? You’re still lookin’ a little sad there, baby.” 

“I’m–”

“She said she’s fine.”  

A big hand grabs your arm without much warning, making you squeak out loud— you whip your head back fast, ready to fight, but quickly freeze at the sight of Huening towering over you with a dark but unreadable expression. His grip was bordering on painful. 

“Excuse me?” Jake retorts, face screwed up in irritation and clearly unwilling to back down from a challenge.  “You know this guy?” 

Unfortunately, you did. “Kai—“ you start, but quickly clam up; Kai shoots you a look you’ve never seen from him before, dark and feral. It twists hot in your belly just as much as it scares you. 

“She’s done. We’re leaving.” Kai hisses dangerously near your ear, loud enough for Jake to hear. You’re too shocked to respond. 

“Hey, what the hell’s your problem, man?” Jake’s griping, but it’s not doing much good— Kai tugs you up out of your seat and drags you by the wrist through the crowds and out of the back door of the club. You want to fight him, yell and kick and scream, but all you can manage is to stare incredulously at the back of his head. He hardly gave you the leeway to grab your purse. Or pay your tab. 

“Kai, what the—“ He pushes you hard against the brick wall of the club, presses himself flush against your back— you can feel the stiff bulge of his hard cock against your ass, his hot breath fan across your neck in jagged, heavy breaths. 

“You think this is fucking funny, Y/N?” he snarls, deep and nasty. His hands press yours against the brick, keeping you still against both him and the wall. “Are you trying to piss me off? Show up dressed like a slut, whore yourself out right in front of me?”

You can only get yourself to let out a strangled squeak, all too distracted by the swell of Kai’s cock, the heat of his body against yours. Was this really happening? 

“C’mon, say something.” Kai goads, rolling his hips. it takes everything in you not to moan. “Why are you being such a whore, Y/N?”

“You’re hard…” You whimper.

“I’m hard?” Kai echoes, sneers meanly. “Fuck yes I’m hard. I’m hard ‘cos you look so fucking sexy in this dress, I love your body; God, did you wear this for me?” 

You’d been telling yourself you didn’t, but you did. You absolutely did. “Uh huh…”

“Dressed up all pretty for me yet you’re letting other men call you baby? Sounds like you just want me to punish you. Is that what you want? For me to punish you?” Kai’s hands let go of yours to grab at your hips, guiding you to buck up harder against him. “You know, I thought you couldn’t take it. Thought you wouldn’t be able to handle me. But now I think you deserve to be put in your place, don’t you?” 

“Kai…” You croak weakly, keen high in your throat when Kai grinds hard right against your clothed slit, nestles his head in your neck to mouth hotly at your skin. 

“Fuck you’re wet, I can feel it. Say it. say you want me to ruin you.” 

He’s right; your pussy’s dripping. You’ve never felt this needy before in your life, and Kai hasn’t even touched you. You can’t help but be a little afraid for when he does. 

Your mind flashes back to your dreams, vivid scenes of being underneath Huening as he tore you apart completely, made you feel raw and alive in ways you didn’t think you ever could. You craved to feel even just a fraction of what you did in your dreams, finally make them a reality. 

You needed him. 

“Ruin me, Kai, please.” you beg, and you meant it. 

“Good girl, fuck.” Huening curses hot under his breath, pulls himself away from you— you whine out at the loss, and Huening gives your ass a surprise slap in retaliation. You bite your lip to keep from shrieking. “Fuck, okay, we’re doing this. 7’oclock Monday, okay? My place; Taehyun won’t be home. We’ll have time to talk it out before. Don’t be late.” 

And with that, Kai once again stalks away, heads back inside the club with his hands in his pockets and head held high like he wasn’t just grinding against you moments before. You’re plastered against the wall, dress ridden up your ass, sweaty and hot and so wet it’s starting to drip down your thighs. 

You’re not sure if you’re going to be able to make it to Monday.

“7 o'clock Monday, okay? Don’t be late.”

Monday came far too fast. Despite having the entire weekend to yourself you felt as though you had been given no time to prepare; you spent three days pacing your and Yeonjun’s apartment, unable to do anything except think about Hueningkai’s words, his voice, his hands hot and burning, branding on your skin… you were haunted, ruminating endlessly about what he was going to do to you, what his plans were once he had you all alone and to himself. How far he would push you. If he would take you all the way to the edge. If he would stop if you told him it was too much. If you truly trusted him as much as you thought you did. If all of this was really just some strange, one-off situationship between two good friends, or if there were feelings you weren’t ready to address hidden somewhere just under the surface.

Was this just sex?

Yeonjun kept asking you if you were okay, brow furrowed as he watched you worry yourself half to death, and you didn’t know how to respond.

The dreams you had been having had only gotten worse, more visceral. They frightened you, almost, from the intensity of them, but in the same vein you had never felt this needy in your entire life. You needed to feel Kai’s touch on you again like you needed air.

The falling snow nipped at your bare legs as you shuffled nervously in front of Hueningkai’s apartment door. You certainly hadn’t dressed for the weather– hidden behind your knee-length coat, you wore your tiniest skirt and your tightest top, low cut with your cleavage spilling out of your push-up bra. You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, buried your burning face deeper into the lapels of your coat as the icy cold wind picked up in a dizzying, biting flurry– you’ve never dressed up for a hookup before, and you hoped it wasn’t obvious… would Hueningkai even notice? Could you even call this a hookup to begin with? The entire situation was so incredibly alien and unlike you in every way that it left a bad taste in your mouth, one you mulled over as you stared daggers at his door. You couldn’t bring yourself to knock on it.

Luckily, you didn’t have to. Taehyun tore the door open for you right as you gathered the courage to raise your fist.

You shrieked at your friend’s sudden appearance, grabbed desperately at your coat like it was a lifeline– Kai had told you that he wouldn’t be home, told you that the coast was completely clear for you to waltz in– that was the only reason you had agreed to come over anyway. You had to save yourself from the potential humiliation of facing Taehyun again after Friday, especially looking like this, yet there he stood, eyeing you up and down as he shrugged his jacket on.

“Wha– Why are you here!?” you demand, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself. Taehyun gives you an odd look.

“I live here.” He answers flatly. “I was just about to leave, actually. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Taehyun cuts you off. His eyes trail from your glossy lips down to your bare legs, grimace on his face that would have offended you in some other circumstance. “Actually, don’t answer that. Kai’s in his bedroom. I’m going out, I don’t wanna be here for this– use a condom at least, will you?”

Without waiting for your reply, Taehyun quickly side steps your shivering frame to trudge off through the snow. He gives you a limp and unenthusiastic wave goodbye without bothering to look back– if he had, he would have seen you gape and splutter at his retreating back like a landlocked fish.

The door was left wide open for you to enter; all of the lights were off inside, dark and empty except for the cracks underneath Hueningkai’s door, all the way down the hallway– you felt taunted by it, frigid and terrified like something unexpected would jump up at you as you stepped inside and locked the door behind you. You’ve felt less dread walking through haunted houses.

Tentatively, you make your way down the hallway, the apartment unsettlingly quiet as you reach Kai’s bedroom door and fumble with the doorknob– it was unlocked, much to your surprise, and slowly you cracked it open and slipped inside.

Hueningkai’s room was dark except for the light of his console, illuminating your friend’s outline as he played some video game you didn’t recognize; he slouched in his gaming chair with his back turned to you, volume turned up so high in his headphones that you could hear the muffled gunshots all the way from the doorway– he clearly had no idea that you were standing right behind him, so engrossed in the game blown up on his screen.

“Kai?” you called out quietly, too nervous to raise your voice. Huening continued to click away at his mouse and keyboard, and you stared awkwardly at the back of his head.

You double-checked the time on your phone; you had shown up exactly when he had told you to. There’s no way he had forgotten about Friday… was there?

“Kai.” you called again, this time a little louder. Kai still did not acknowledge you in the slightest.

Frowning, you step over to his side, tap gingerly at his shoulder, and Kai reacts instantly— he jumps up out of his chair with a deafening shriek, sends his headphones flying as he whips his head around in terror to face you… it takes him a second to recognize your face, but his face floods with color once he does.

“Holy– Oh, (Y/N), Oh my God!” he whines, clutching his chest. Even his ears are red, you notice when he bends over to pick up his headphones up off of the floor, and you giggle to yourself as he turns back around to give you a startled, puppy-eyed look. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“I’m sorry,” you reply, trying your very hardest not to laugh in his face. You’ve never seen him this embarrassed before, avoiding your eyes with puffed-out cheeks and a pink face; it was a cute look on him. “I thought you knew I was coming.”

“Well..” he cringes, fiddling with the headphones still in his hands. His face looked even redder. “I… I kind of thought you weren’t going to.”

“Why wouldn’t I come? I told you I’d be here.” you ask, cock your head at him, watch as he turns his console off and places his headphones down on his desk. He seemed nervous and disoriented, like he really wasn’t prepared for any of what he had talked about salaciously into your ear Friday night; you felt silly, suddenly, dressed up and standing expectantly in his bedroom. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken him so seriously. This didn’t seem at all like the man who had you pinned against a brick wall and begging for it just a few nights ago, and instead much more like the shy and gentle Hueningkai you knew much, much better.

“I thought I scared you..” Kai admits with a fake, humorless laugh, his wobbly smile quickly folding down into a grimace as he sinks further into his chair. “This is usually the part where I scare people. They were only half-joking about the whole ‘running away screaming’ thing, you know.”

Your own frown deepens, unsure of what to do or what to say as you watch him pick at his sweatpants, continue to refuse to look you in the eye as he rocks himself back and forth with the swivel of his chair. “I mean, I’m not angry about it, obviously.” he continued, fluffy blond bangs hanging over his face as he stared at the floor. “That would be stupid. A lot of people don’t like this stuff, and that’s fine. I don’t want to force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. It’s okay if I scared you, it really is. I’m sorry I came on so strong Friday, it was a bad idea and I shouldn’t have done it and I was drunk–”

Kai looks up at you for the first time in a while, big brown eyes watery behind his bangs and breaking your heart– he looked so truly guilty, like he had been beating himself up over this for days. Like he had spent the entire weekend pacing and tearing himself to shreds just as you had. You wish he had said something sooner, so you could have told him earlier that he didn’t do anything that you didn’t like, that he startled you but in a way that awakened something in you that you didn’t even know that you had. You wish you had the courage to tell him that he could have done whatever he wanted that night and you would have let him, because while this new side to him made you nervous it didn’t scare you. Hueningkai could never scare you.

It hits you then that there really wasn’t another secret, darker alter to Hueningkai, some frightening Jekyll and Hyde dynamic that your friends had placed into your head. Kai was always Kai, your sweet, perfect, nervous, nerdy, awkward Kai, even when he was saying the nastiest things you had ever heard in your life, and you felt very terrible very suddenly that you had ever doubted your trust in him.

“You don’t scare me, Kai.” You say simply, because you couldn’t get yourself to say anything else. The genuinely shocked look on Kai’s face at your words makes your chest ache.

“Really?” He asks just above a whisper. “I didn’t scare you?”

“No, I… I liked it.” You admit, face heating up. “I liked it, and I want more.”

Kai’s big puppy eyes change in an instant; suddenly he was gazing up at you like a predator, big brown eyes slanted and dark, dripping with a hunger you were frighteningly unfamiliar with. The sudden shift takes you by surprise, ignites a delicious fire in your belly. “Okay then.” Kai says slowly, taking his time easing out of his chair. You don’t miss the big, dizzying bulge in his sweats when he stands up. “Then let’s talk.”

He sits you down on his bed and sits next to you, though a good distance away– you could feel every single inch as Kai nibbles at his lip and bites at his nails, shuffles his feet and looks up at you coyly. “Before we do anything, I just want to hear about your boundaries… is that okay? I don’t want anything to happen that you don’t like. The last thing I want to do is to make you uncomfortable or hurt you..”

You’re touched, oddly enough, though you’re already jittery and way in over your head– with a quizzical little giggle you ask, “What do you mean by boundaries?”

“Like your hard limits, your soft limits.” Kai explains gently, moving to rest his big hand on the mattress between you. You stare at his long, thick fingers a few beats longer than you meant to. “Things you don’t want me to do to you. Let me know about what to stay away from so this can be enjoyable for both of us.”

You were in no way prepared for this line of questioning; you squirm around in your big coat, cheeks heating up– you were starting to sound like the virgin. “I, um… I don’t really know… I’ve never really done anything like this before– but I want to try it. With you.”

Kai lets out a deep sigh, that hand on the bed raising to push his bangs back from his eyes– pretty brown pupils dark and dripping with honey, such a startling juxtaposition from the sweet soft smile on his plush lips. You stare at him, mesmerized. “Thank you for trusting me to be your first, then.” he says lowly and surprisingly sincere, pink tongue darting out to lick at his thick bottom lip. “If there’s ever a point where you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, don’t be afraid to tell me, okay? I promise I’ll stop immediately.”

“Okay…” you nod. Your anxiety was diminishing by the minute, being replaced with a tranquil sense of trust– you were certain that only Kai could ever make you feel this safe.

“For boundaries, just follow my lead.” Kai continues. “I’ll list something, and you tell me if you’re okay with it or not, okay?”

“Okay.” you say again, more confidently. Kai grins.

“Good girl. Just say yes or no, okay?”

Good girl, said so flippantly like he did at the bar. You shiver, electrified– you can still feel Kai’s hot breath panting in your ear when he called you that Friday night, that hard thick bulge in his pants you’ve been trying desperately not to look at pushing hard against your ass, teasing you maddingly…

“(Y/N)?” Kai asks softly, sending you reeling back to the present. “Is that okay?”

“Yes! I mean yes, yes that’s okay…”

Kai giggles, eyes scrunching up in that way you adore so much. “Alright then. Can I hit you?”

Oh.

You blink hard, hesitate for a moment. “Hit... me? … Where?”

“Wherever you’d like.” Kai answers with the sweetest and most innocent of smiles. Only his bright red cheeks are giving him away. “I can spank you, if you want. I can slap you. Your face, your tits. Your.. your pussy even, if you’d let me.”

Once again you’re pulled away from reality, flooded with memories all at once from your salacious dreams; being spanked for misbehaving, Huening’s big strong hands ruthless on your soft skin. How it hurt but how you loved it, craved and begged for more… “You can spank me.” You finally get out after a while. “You can spank my p-pussy too… just please be gentle. And I don’t want to be hit anywhere else.”

“That’s perfectly fine, angel. I’ll be gentle, I promise.” Kai soothes in a deep croon, mixing deliciously and dizzyingly with the new pet name and making you rub your thighs together– you can tell that he noticed from the wolfish way that his toothy grin widens. “Do you want me to just use my hand or can I use a toy to spank you?”

The simple idea of being spanked with something other than a hand is enough to make you squirm and hide your face; it was something you had never even thought about before, but now… “You can do both..” you mumble quietly, too embarrassed to meet Kai’s gaze. He gives you an approving hum.

“Can I choke you?”

“Yes.” you answer with little hesitation, taking another quick glance at Kai’s fingers, now pulling at the hem of his hoodie. Kai lets out a huffy ‘oh’ like he had been hit hard in the chest, lost his breath. You can feel the hunger in his stare as it washes over you, the way he undresses you with his eyes– it’s already overwhelming and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Can I tie you up?” Kai continues heavily, deep voice a few octaves lower. You bite your lip to keep from whimpering.

“Yes.”

“Can I pull your hair?” he moves his arm like he was placing his hand back on the bed, but instead firmly grabs your upper thigh– he pushes your coat aside with his thumb so he can caress at your bare skin, and the teasing touch is more than enough to make your voice shake.

“Y-yes.”

“Call you names? Be mean?” His fingers dig into the fat of your inner thigh.

“Yes, yes please..”

The bulge in Kai’s sweats was obscene, straining hard against the fabric as he stroked your thigh, used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes; the way he looked at you was bordering on predatory, like he was going to eat you, so dirty and different than any look he had given you before… your pussy throbs when his thumb brushes softly across your bottom lip. “Oh princess…” Kai coos, sugary sweet, “What am I going to do with you?”

“What are you going to do with me?” you echo timidly, still meek even as you place your hand on his chest.

Kai’s grin turns practically evil, hand brushing higher and higher up your thigh. “I think you deserve a punishment for your behavior Friday, don’t you? Acting so bratty, dressed like a slut…”

The pad of his finger slips under your skirt to ghost over the soaked front of your panties. Your thighs clench hard, trapping his hand between them, and the hand you had placed on his chest grabs a fistfull of his hoodie. “Punish me,” you beg, meek and pathetic; Kai stares at you in what almost seems like disbelief.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks after taking a moment to study your face.

“Yes, please.” you answer, already leaning in to bridge the gap.

Kai kisses you so passionately it takes your breath away, his hands coming to cup your face and grab your hips as he pries your lips apart with his tongue, demanding his way inside. Your hands paw uselessly at his shoulders and neck, Kai swallowing your sweet little whimpers up greedily as he pulls you up onto his lap and tugs at your coat. He only pulls away when you’re both dizzy and begging for air. “God, I’ve wanted to do that for fucking ever…” Kai whispers against your lips, his deep giggle making your legs twitch and tighten around his trim waist– the confession hung heavy in the air, it weighs down your shoulders as you drop your arms to let him peel off your coat and throw it down onto the floor. Words get stuck in your throat as you scramble for something to say… Kai steals them from you with ease, big dark eyes marveling at every inch of your exposed skin, his hands cupping at your hips and breasts, ghosts feathered touches up the exposed skin between your itty bitty skirt and top

“Oh baby…” he huffs, honeyed voice labored and panting. “Fuck, look at you.”

“Do you like it?” you ask with a coy smile.

Hueningkai growls in response, flipping you over onto your back on the bed– he holds himself over you with his hands on either side of your head, pretty lips pulled into the most salacious of smirks as his eyes continue to rake down your body. “Kai…” you whimper, the few inches between your faces feeling like miles.

“No, no, don’t call me that, baby,” he coos, “Call me sir, okay?”

“Yes, sir…” you reply in kind, face hot. Kai gives you another quick kiss in appreciation before pulling himself back up and off of the bed. You whimper at the loss but Kai is quick to shush you, big hand coming up to rub soothing circles into your thigh as he rummages around underneath his bed– where he keeps his toys, you remember with a jolt.

“Turn over ‘n arch your back, can you do that for me? Ass up, gotta teach you a lesson.”

You shudder and follow his directions, bury your face into Hueningkai’s sheets as he gathers his things and settles himself back on the bed behind you; you can feel the bed dip from his weight, feel him place a few things down on the bed side the both of you before he runs his hands up your thighs and waist, across your shoulders and down your arms. In one swift motion he grabs your wrists and pulls your arms taut behind your back, binds them in place with the dull click of biting cold metal– he’s handcuffed you, you realize with a sick start. You’re completely at his mercy now.

“Are they too tight?” Kai asks when you test your restraints, tug at them uselessly; they don’t budge an inch, only cut tighter and tighter into the skin of your wrists with every movement. It’s an alien feeling, being bound like this, but you find yourself enjoying it much more than you thought you would, stoking the fire in your belly. You shake your head no.

“Good.” He says, big hands caressing your hips– he uses his thumbs to push your skirt up over your ass, revealing your cute lace panties. Thumb moving down to slide against your soaking wet slit, he coos, “Such a cute little ass, sweetie; can’t wait to see this cunt.”

You whimper and push back against his hand, making Kai chuckle and rub a quick circle at your clit before tugging your panties down to your knees in one swift motion. You gasp at the sudden shock, cold air hitting at your warm wet core.

Kai sighs like he’s relieved. “God, you’ve got the prettiest pussy, princess… I can’t wait to ruin it.” Without warning, he rears his hand back and slaps you, hard, against your panty-clad cunt. The sting is sharp and mind-numbing, making you cry out, but your voice quickly wavers into a low moan; it hurt like hell but you loved it, the tingling in your fevered skin only serving to make you wetter.

Kais hand then moves to cup and squeeze at your asscheek; you can feel your arousal coating his palm, your pussy so wet you’ve drenched it with just a single spank. “Count for me, okay honey?” Kai croons, gentle. “And say ‘thank you sir’ for every one.”

“Yes, sir…” you whimper, fighting the urge to look over your shoulder back at him as he shuffles around behind you, picking up whatever he had placed aside earlier. You hear a soft ‘good girl’ as he settles himself back into place.

Kai rewards your good behavior with your first proper spank, hard and fast and with a wooden paddle instead of his hand— you cry out, even louder and shriller than before, your hands twisting against the handcuffs as you shy away from Kai’s grasp. “One!” you huff out, winded, completely unprepared; Kai tuts, condescending.

“One, what? What did I say you call me? Be a big girl and use your words now.”

“One, thank you sir!” you correct yourself quickly, thighs already quivering.

He spanks you again on the other cheek, this time harder; you shriek at the sharp pain of the paddle, but it quickly morphs into a broken moan. The paddle elicited pain in a way you had never felt before, could hardly describe, the shocking sting reverberating through your entire body and coalescing in your mind, leaving you breathless and unable to focus on anything other than Kai’s big hand running soothingly down the small of your back, the leather of the paddle ghosting over your flushed skin teasingly. “Two, thank you sir!” you whimper.

To your disappointment, Kai only hums. This time he gives you not a second to prepare yourself before the paddle comes down again, catching the meat of your upper thigh. It hurts so bad it makes your eyes water, your mouth stuck open in a drooly, silent scream. Your cunt throbbed. “Tell me you’re a whore.” Kai demands, voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m a whore.” you stutter out, wobbly voice barely above a whisper.

Two ear-ringing spanks land hard on your bruising ass, one after another on the exact same spot. Kai’s long fingers catching the very top of your inner thigh— you’re unable to control the shrill shriek that erupts from your parted, panting lips, watery with unshed tears. “Louder.” Kai spits, grabbing a tight fistful of your hair. “Let everyone hear what you are.”

“T-three, four! I’m a whore!” you cry out, your head spinning, your thoughts fragmented. You’ve been broken entirely, you fear, somewhere in the back of your mind. Broken and ruined and never the same again. The thought doesn’t scare you as much as you thought it would. “I’m a whore, sir, thank you!”

“Good girl,” Kai coos, a little condescending. He seemed to enjoy watching you break just as much as you enjoyed being broken. “Just one more, okay?”

He caresses your swollen asscheek with a surprising tenderness, thumb rubbing soothing circles across the burning flesh. Your cunt is so wet that rivulets of slick had begun to drip down your thighs, and by the harsh intake of breath you hear behind you you’re sure that Kai has noticed.

You brace for the spank, face buried in Kai’s sheets, but still your body shook with pain and pleasure as he lands it, vicious and aggressive, right over your throbbing cunt. The spank stung like nothing you had ever felt before, harder than the others before it, the pain reverberating through your core and making you hiccup pathetically— you’re floating, your fragmented and silenced thoughts somewhere far away, but the gentle hand on your hip grounds you back into Kai’s sheets, back into the moment as your body aches and yearns for more. “Five!” you finally manage to spit out, your cheeks wet with tears you weren’t aware you had shed. “Thank you, sir!”

Your punishment ends and it’s like a switch flips in Kai; his hands smooth over your hips and thighs, so so gentle in caressing the blistering globes of your ass.”Such a good girl girl, took your punishment so well…” He croons, pressing feather light kisses to your shoulder blades. “Knew you could do it, my perfect girl. So proud. Are you ready for more?”

“Please,” you pant, chest heaving. You hardly recognize your own voice.

Huening’s breath hitches at your answer, his hips stuttering as he presses them up against your ass. The fabric of his pants scratches deliciously against your pussy, the thick shaft of his cock rock hard and straining, slotted perfectly between your quivering folds— your skin tingles from the kiss he presses against the back of your neck, gentle and chaste. “Such a good girl deserves a reward, doesn’t she?” he purrs into your ear, his warm chest molded to your sweaty back. “What do you want, princess?”

“You.” you beg, sob. “You, please, sir.”

Your answer makes Kai growl roughly into your hair, buck his hips quick and desperate against your ass. His white-knuckle grip on your hips makes your head spin, only growing tighter. “Fuck. You want me? Want my cock? Whatever you want, baby, shit.”

The bed creaks when Kai gets off, his deep little chuckle reverberating through your body. Missing his touch, you roll over onto your back to watch him as he digs through his nightstand drawer, the raw skin of your ass stinging when they brush up against his sheets. Kai giggles triumphantly when he finds a condom, quick to tear the foil with his teeth, and the sweet, innocent noise is almost enough of a distraction from his long fingers pulling down his waistband. His cock slaps up against his belly obscenely when fully freed, flushed pink and twitching, flared mushroom tip leaking tantalizing pearls of precum— you bite your lip to hold in your gasp, cunt clenching around nothing at the sight.

“Why are you looking at me like that..?” Kai laughs, his blonde bangs shading his blushing cheeks as he sheepishly lowers his gaze to the ground. It would be like him, you think, to be embarrassed in a moment like this. He looks so sexy you could cry.

“I… I don’t think it’ll fit..” you admit in a whisper, thighs shaking.

“Oh baby,” Kai coos, sugary sweet, that hesitant nervousness melting into something darker, more alluring. You watch him roll the condom over his thick, leaking cock with bated breath and a throbbing core. “I’ll make it fit, don’t worry.

Kai moves too quickly for you to react, grabbing at your ankle and pulling you down the bed with shocking ease— with his other hand he tugs your panties the rest of the way off of your legs, frees your thighs so they can wrap around his trim waist as he brings your hips together in a delicious clash of skin. His cockhead slides up your slit and knocks hard against your swollen and soaking clit when he pries your legs apart over his shoulders, pushes your knees to your chest to spread you out fully for his view. He stares at your throbbing pussy in rapture, wide eyes with blown pupils making you squirm and fight the urge to hide behind your hands.

“God, you’re so wet,” Kai breaths, sliding two fingers between your folds, spreading around the mess of slick— soon he has them pistoning hard in and out of your hole, scissoring them apart and stretching your quivering gummy walls so perfect, rubbing up against all of your neglected sweet spots as you moan Huening’s name. Your pussy gushes with the lewdest wet sounds, nasty enough to make your ears burn. “Wettest cunt I’ve ever seen. Gotta stretch you so I can fit, yeah?”

“Don’t need it!” you gasp, tugging at the handcuffs still keeping your arms snug behind your back. You want more than anything to touch, to guide Kai to where you need him the most. You don’t know how much more teasing you can take. “I don’t need it, just need you… just fuck me!”

Kai pulls his fingers out, leaves your hole gaping and fluttering as he lines his cock up— his cockhead feels impossibly big pushing up against your entrance, so close it’s threatening to slip inside. “Come on, princess,” Kai teases, rolling his hips. “Good whores say please, don’t they?”

“Please!” you beg, desperate and whiny. You’ve never needed a cock this badly in your entire life. “Fuck me, sir, please!”

Kai lets out the prettiest broken moan, sheathing himself inside you in one smooth thrust. He gives you no time to adjust, immediately settling into a punishing rhythm pounding you into the mattress. You’re immediately overwhelmed in the best possible way, your staccato moans echoing off of the walls.

“B-big!” you hiccup, eyes rolling back from the onslaught of pleasure. His thick cock so deep you can feel him in your belly, so stretched out you fear that he would tear you in half, his fat cockhead knocking at your cervix with every thrust and sending wave after wave of euphoria. His intensity leaves you breathless, unable to think or hardly speak, each thrust surrendering you deeper into the throws of submission and desire. “Too big!”

“‘Too big?’” Kai mocks, his hips unrelenting. “Am I too big for your little cunt, baby? After you were begging for my cock like a little slut?”

You can’t reply, can’t do anything other than moan and cry as Kai splits you open. Kai seems to like that quite a bit.

“Being’ fucked so good you can’t speak? Fuck, that’s so hot. You’re so hot. Been wanting this forever, you have no idea—“ Kai’s rambling, pretty face flushed pink and his brown puppy eyes so dark and wild; he seemed completely lost in the feeling of you, so ruthless let unfocused as his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. You had forgotten you were even still wearing it. “You’re mine now, you hear? Pussy’s all mine. Never— fuck, never letting you go.”

He pulls your top up to bunch at your armpits, your plush tits spilling out to meet Kai’s hungry gaze. Your perky nipples harden from the cold air, flushed and begging to be touched; Kai can’t seem to help but stare in rapture as they bounce with each of his thrusts, his tongue falling out of his panting mouth like a hungry dog. “Pretty tits,” he pants, reaching up to gently slap one of your breasts— he groans at the jiggle, the way you whimper when his palm meets your sensitive flesh. “I’ve always— I’ve always loved your tits.”

He captures your pert bud between his lips, hot wet tongue marking the skin he had just slapped; he’s so rough with it, nibbling and sucking bruises, pinching and twisting the one not in his mouth between his thumb and forefinger— the sensations combined with Kai’s quickening hips, his unbelievable words drives you to the brink of ecstasy, your shrill cries deafening even in your own ears. “Kai—sir!” you beg tearfully, but you’re not sure what for. “Sir, please, please—!”

“Shut up.” Kai hisses, pulling away from your nipple with a wet pop. His hand moves from your overstimulated breast to encircle your throat, grip tight, fingers squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch and your vision fuzzy, ignite your senses— you gasp in shock, your hazy eyes blown wide, his grip adding a delicious edge to your arousal, his words churning hot in your belly… your pussy spasms around Kai’s cock, gummy walls sucking him in impossibly deeper as you finally let the pleasure overtake you.

“I’m gonna cum!” you bleat, your chest heaving, his fist still clasped so perfectly tight around your throat. “Kai, I’m gonna, I—“

“Shh, princess,” Kai laughs breathlessly, his voice cracking and his hips stuttering. His grip loosens, hand coming to rub electrifying circles against your clit. “Gonna cum all over this cock? Fuck— I’m gonna cum too, baby, feels so good! Gonna— wish I fucked you raw, wish I could fill you up… cum with me, okay? Come together with me—!”

You can’t take his words— hot fire in your belly roars, engulfing your entire being, and you’re sent over the edge in a symphony of pleasure. Kai follows close behind with a beautiful whiny moan, his cock twitching inside of you as he fills up the condom. Part of you wishes he had fucked you raw as well, could feel his hot seed paint your walls and fill your belly.

Maybe another time, you supposed.

As you catch your breath, chests rising and falling with the intensity of your shared orgasm, Kai tenderly caresses your waist, surprisingly hesitant and gentle in contrast to all of his touches before. His melted chocolate eyes meet yours, filled with passion and desire and something a little more. “That was…”

“Amazing.” you finish, a blissful smile gracing your lips.

“Can.. can we do that again?” Kai asks eagerly. “Not now, but like. Later. All of the time? We should do that all of the time. Can I take you out on a date sometime?”

taglist: @wintertxt, @boba-beom, @wolfytae-exe, @takemehye, @naomiarai , @mapofthemazeinthemirror , @bunnie-hq , @doumachi, @numxra, @soobinsbuns, @taegimood, @jeniihss, @soobabby, @hhoneylix , @beargyuuzz, @fullbodyblankets , @xenkimmie, @ttaesoob, @shinyngirl , @lxnoluvr, @blxxsss , @ode2soob , @beom-gyubears, @ashiixari, @lurking-coconut, @horanghaelovr, @urstylezx , @mini-mews , @givethnofucketh , @ladyartemesia, @allisonistrashh, @nxlvvr, @lurking-coconut

[witchywithwhiskey]

when in hell, do as the demons do

pairing: demon posing as a tattoo artist!steve rogers x tattooed!female reader (number and type of tattoos aren't specified but it's more than two)

summary: new york city tattoo parlors have a tradition of offering special deals on friday the 13th, but when you decide to try out a new shop in brooklyn, you get much more than you paid for—and end up selling your soul to a charming demon.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, monsterfucking, dubcon because magic, sex pollen elements, nonconsensual bonding, soul bonds, demon tricks, bdsm (no safe word but with check-ins), choking, sadism/masochism, pain play, very brief blood play, nipple torture, pussy spanking, face slapping, rough body play, finger sucking, dacryphilia, fingering (f receiving), degradation kink, master kink, praise kink, pet names (baby, sweetheart, plaything), begging, teasing, dirty talk, dry humping, biting, marking, cockwarming, aftercare, happy ending

word count: 14.5k

a/n: here's my first halloween fic for 2024! i came up with the idea on friday the 13th last month and liked it for a halloween idea so here we are! this is the fic i was talking about in my poll here, which helped me decide to make steve a demon, but i'm not great at world-building/magic-building so if the magic doesn't make sense, i'm sorry! i just wanted to write some sex pollen-y tattoo artist smut and it turned into a whole thing. this fic really got away from me 😬 whoops. anyway, i hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡

halloween fics masterlist

The first time you heard the story—the urban legend whispered around New York City tattoo parlors—you were getting your second tattoo. You were young, but not so naive, and yet, when the woman named Wanda Maximoff told you the tale in her vaguely Eastern European accent, a chill raced down your spine. 

It went like this: There was a young person who wanted to get a tattoo, and they were lured into an unfamiliar shop on Friday the 13th by the special deals they were offering. (Where the shop was located in the city varied based on who was telling the story, but Wanda had said it was a small parlor tucked into an alley in the Bowery.)

The person in the story didn’t know the shop or the artist, but they were so enthralled by the artist’s beauty and work that they made the hasty decision to get a tattoo of a symbol they didn’t understand. It was the last decision they’d ever make, because by the time the tattoo was done, they’d been unknowingly enslaved to a dark force—having sold their soul to a demon.

When Wanda had finished the story, her piercing green eyes stared at you long and hard, her mouth twisted to the side as if she was stopping herself from saying more than she should. There was a warning in her expression you didn’t understand, and you hadn’t been able to stop the fear that burrowed into your heart. For a second—just a second—you’d believed the strange, witchy woman. 

Then you’d scoffed, laughing away your fear, and insisted the story must’ve been started by a grumpy old tattoo artist who was tired of the influx of customers on Friday the 13th. It was well known that most New York City tattoo shops had special deals every Friday the 13th, and you asserted the story was just supposed to frighten away naive tattoo novices who’d get something impulsively and regret it later. 

Wanda had pressed her lips together, an inscrutable look on her face, but only nodded once before returning her focus to your tattoo. In the silence that had followed, you’d been left alone with your thoughts, and you mulled over the story, repeating your rationalizations to yourself until you believed them. 

But a sliver of fear and intrigue remained for the rest of your session and when you were done, you were relieved to leave Wanda and her creepy story behind. Something like that—accidentally selling your soul to a demon when getting a tattoo—didn’t happen in real life, and it certainly wouldn’t happen to you. 

That’s what you told yourself, and you believed it. Until, of course, it did happen to you.

Over the years, you heard the story repeated time and time again in countless tattoo shops across the city, and the fear you’d felt listening to Wanda recount her version of the tall tale transformed into curiosity, then a dark kind of delight. It wasn’t something you wanted to push away, but to hold close to your heart, to cherish.

As you got older, you found yourself telling the story to younger folks when you crossed paths with someone who hadn’t heard it. And every time you told the story, you found yourself unconsciously replicating Wanda’s Eastern European accent, making the story as scary as you could. 

Each time you saw apprehension in the eyes of those you told the tale to, something inside you unfurled and grew stronger. You’d smirk when the tattoo novices scurried away, some leaving whatever shop you were in entirely, and a shiver would race down your spine, so much like the fear you’d felt when you first heard the story, but it was no longer that. It was a quiver of devilish mirth. 

You told yourself it was normal, how much fun you had scaring off the younger folks in the tattoo shops you frequented, laughing along with the artists you knew so well. You told yourself you were just taking part in tradition by repeating the story. You told yourself there wasn’t a darkness in your heart that was wakened by the story, and craved something you didn’t quite understand.

That’s what you told yourself, and you believed it. Until you walked into Hell and your entire life changed.

Hell was the new tattoo shop that had opened in Brooklyn at the start of October, though you’d been hearing talk of it for months before then. You’d been curious about it, and the fact that none of your friends or any of the artists you frequented knew much about it made it all the more intriguing. They didn’t know who owned the shop or who was working there, and you were desperate to find out.

It wasn’t a conscious decision you remembered making, but late in the afternoon on Friday the 13th, you took the subway to Brooklyn, getting off at the stop closest to Hell. 

The day was brisk, the chill of autumn clinging to the air even as the sun shone brightly above the city. You wore a thick sweater, a skirt and some tights with your most comfortable boots to make the trek deep into Brooklyn, and you were glad for it. It was a longer walk than you’d been expecting, but pleasant enough while the sun was high.

By the time you made it to the shop, though, the sun was dipping low behind the brownstones of the nearby neighborhood and your cheeks were chilled from the crisp autumn breeze. It was a relief to see the red neon sign for Hell, and you skipped quickly down the last block to push through the door of the nondescript exterior.

You were met by a rush of artificial heat that made you smile, pleased by the respite from the frigid autumn air, which swirled around your ankles as the door closed behind you. The warmth of the parlor kissed your cheeks and thawed through your icy fingertips while you looked around. 

You were surprised to find that Hell was unexpectedly inviting. 

Inside, the tattoo shop was decorated in dark colors that fit the theme: inky blacks, vivid reds, luminous yellows and burnt oranges. But, though it could’ve been dreary, Hell looked alive and lived-in, with cozy black leather sofas in the waiting area, and artwork decorating much of the wall space. When you looked closer, you saw that many of the pieces depicted creatures of the dark. 

As you studied the artwork, you noticed a theme: Demons cavorting with human women, specifically fucking human women. You felt a tingle of something bloom between your thighs. The art was salacious and wicked, and yet, you didn’t feel disturbed by any of the imagery, only intrigued. Even a little bit aroused. 

A clearing throat pulled your attention away from the art and to the redheaded woman standing behind the counter. She asked if you needed help. 

As you approached, you noticed she was beautiful, and had a cold smile on her face, her green eyes watching you in a way that unsettled you. It took you a long moment to realize her gaze reminded you of Wanda, even though the women looked nothing alike. But you felt uneasy as you walked up to the counter.

Your smile was tentative as you inquired if the shop had any Friday the 13th deals, adding that it was tradition, just in case the woman was new to the city.

Her green eyes raked over your face in an obviously assessing look, and you felt like your heart and soul were being judged. You nearly huffed a laugh at the thought, because it was so ludicrous, but managed to keep still and remain expressionless while the woman stared at you.

After a moment, she smiled again and the expression was friendlier, like she was greeting an old friend. She introduced herself as Natasha Romanoff and apologized because all but one of the artists had gone home for the day since their appointments were done and they didn’t get too many walk-ins, being a new shop and all.

Just then, a man stepped behind the counter as if appearing out of nowhere—though, at the time, you rationalized that you’d simply been staring so intently at Natasha, you hadn’t noticed his approach. Without missing a beat, Natasha introduced the man as Steve Rogers, the owner of Hell and the only artist still around on that Friday the 13th.

“What willing sacrifice do we have here, Nat?” Steve asked, sidling up to the counter and pressing his hands on top to lean toward you. 

The first thing you noticed where his eyes—such a pure, beautiful blue that they looked like the perfect, endless sky. But as your gaze wandered over his face, you realized his eyes weren’t his only gorgeous feature. He had a strong brow that gave way to silky blond hair; a straight, sloping nose that led down to a pair of plump, pink lips with just enough of a cupid’s bow, that you wanted to lick it. 

A rush of warmth filled your cheeks at the thought and you dropped your eyes to Steve’s broad shoulders, pausing to admire the way they filled out his simple black t-shirt. His thick biceps were covered in stunningly intricate tattoos, all done in dark ink that contrasted with his pale skin. They extended down to his hands, still planted flat on the counter. 

As far as you could see, there was only a small space of bare, unadorned skin at the base of Steve’s throat—all the rest of him seemed to be covered in tattoos that snaked beneath his t-shirt. You wondered idly if his tattoos covered his whole body, eyes trailing down to the black jeans he wore, and quickly shoved the thought aside. 

Raising your gaze back to Steve’s face, you hoped your expression wasn’t giving away your thoughts, but the charming grin that spread across the hot tattoo artist’s face made you think he had an idea you were checking him out. And he liked it. 

“Or should I say,” Steve went on in a slightly lower, more rumbly voice, leaning further across the counter with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. He was close enough that you got a hint of his cologne—leather and firewood—and you couldn’t help the way your body reacted, warming and tingling and yearning for him. “What sweet thing do we have coming to barter their soul for some new ink?” He winked at you, all charm, and you nearly swooned.

“I-I was just asking if you had any Friday the 13th deals,” you stammered, unsure how to act under the blinding light of Steve’s charm. You’d known and talked to your fair share of attractive tattoo artists in your life, but Steve was on another level. He was hot and alluring in a way you couldn’t put into words, which was how you found yourself blurting, “It’s tradition.”

Steve’s grin hitched higher, and he stared at you a second longer before ducking down behind the counter to rifle through the shelves. 

“Well, I’m not one to turn my back on the old ways,” he said, lifting his head to catch your eye. He gave you a look that made your knees weak, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief like he knew exactly what kind of effect he was having on you, before returning to his task.

Finally, he seemed to find what he’d been looking for and stood up, brandishing a piece of paper on which some simple tattoo designs were sketched. It looked like any other sheet of designs you’d see in any other tattoo shop, and you didn’t think anything of it, turning your attention back to Steve’s handsome face.

“We didn’t have anything planned,” he explained, crossing his arms and leaning down on the counter. 

The position made him slightly shorter than you, while emphasizing the expanse of his shoulders and the thick mucles of his biceps and the veins of his forearms. It was only because his hand pointed to the paper, pulling your attention away from his big body, that you remembered he was telling you something. 

“But if you pick from these, I’ll charge you $113—how’s that sound?” He raised his eyes to yours, and you noticed how long his eyelashes were. 

For a long moment, you just stared at Steve, your mouth slightly parted while you admired his beautiful face. You had the urge again to lick his cupid’s bow, and your body warmed pleasantly as you imagined doing exactly that. Sitting in Steve’s lap and licking him all over…

With effort, you managed to pull yourself from the tattoo artist’s spell, shaking your head to clear it while you processed what he’d said. The price he’d named was a typical deal for New York City, even with the Friday the 13th discount, so you nodded absently. 

“That sounds good,” you muttered, bending over the counter to look at the sheet of paper he was still pointing to. Even his hands were attractive, with skulls tattooed on the backs and other symbols you didn’t recognize decorating his knuckles. You couldn’t help but think his hands would make a pretty necklace if they were wrapped around your throat…

Shaking your head again, you furrowed your brow and forced yourself to focus on the paper with all the designs. There was some cute Halloween-themed stuff, like black cats, witch hats, ghosts and the like. There were also some stylized numbers, like 666, and a couple pentagram designs along with other symbols you recognized.

But the one that caught your attention was something you’d never seen before. It was made up of exquisitely delicate curving lines that formed what loosely looked like an infinity symbol. There were some twists to the design that made it look harsher, more archaic.

“What’s this?” you asked, pointing to the design that called to you and looking up at Steve. Your breath caught in your throat when you met his gaze, and your voice sounded awed as you went on. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

A secretive, conspiratorial smirk tugged at the corners of Steve’s lips and he leaned in a little closer, his scent invading your senses and his breath ghosting over your cheek. 

“It’s a design of my own making,” he said, his voice pitched low and intimate as he looked at you in a way that made warmth curl around your heart and trickle down to settle low in your belly. “It’s special—why, do you like it?”

It took a tremendous amount of effort to pull your gaze away from Steve’s, but you forced yourself to look back down at the paper, your finger tracing the sweeping curves and the sharp points of the design. 

“I do,” you said slowly, thinking about where on your body it might look nice. There was a spot on your ankle where you felt it would look good, like an anklet. But before you could get too attached to the design, you lifted your gaze, giving Steve a serious look. “It’s not a tribal symbol, or any kind of cultural appropriation, right?”

Steve placed a hand over his heart, like he was making a vow, and said, “I promise it’s not from any culture of man.” 

His strange answer piqued your curiosity, but you brushed your questions aside. Later, you’d understand his odd turn of phrase, but in the moment, you chalked it up to Steve playing into the theme of his shop. You figured anyone who named their tattoo parlor Hell would be a little peculiar, and you didn’t think it was a bad thing. Especially when he was so hot.

Looking back down at the paper, you let your eyes trail over the looping design a few times, feeling yourself sinking into…something. A thrilling shiver raced down your spine, a mix of delight and terror that you found intoxicating and you had to shake yourself to remember where you were and what you were doing.

Raising your eyes to Steve, you told him you wanted the design, and once the words were past your lips, you felt a sense of rightness. You weren’t the type of person to get tattoos impulsively, but this one was calling to you, and you didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to get a tattoo from the hot shop owner. 

Besides, when in Hell…

Steve slid the paper off the counter and stood up straight, his eyes going sharp as he looked between you and the design. You got the same sense you had with Natasha, that Steve was judging your heart and soul and determining whether you were deserving of the design you’d chosen. You found yourself hoping desperately that he decided you were.

After a moment, an impish smirk pulled at Steve’s mouth before his expression shifted fluidly into one of theatrical uncertainty.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly, drawing out the tension of the moment and stroking his jaw like he was thinking. “I was hoping to save this design for someone special.” His blue eyes pinned you with a searching look, a charming smirk on his lips. “Are you special, sweetheart?”

Steve’s charm was turned all the way up, and you felt flustered under the weight of it. Not to mention that the way the pet name rolled off his tongue made you want to do anything he asked. Twisting your fingers self-consciously, you ducked your head a little. 

“Well, I—I don’t know,” you admitted, but for some reason, your thoughts strayed to the dark pleasure you sometimes felt when you frightened others with scary stories. Did that make you special, or just a little bit depraved? You didn’t know, but you hoped it was both, and that both were equally appealing to Steve.

The tattoo artist leaned back down on the counter, the veins of his forearms bulging from his skin as he crossed his arms. Since he’d ducked down, he could easily catch your lowered gaze.

“Tell me, pretty girl,” he purred softly, his tone inviting you to lean in. So you did. 

A soft smile curled your lips when you smelled his cologne, and you relaxed a little while he kept talking in that alluringly deep voice of his. 

��Where would you like my design on your body?” 

A shiver of desire thrummed beneath your skin at the implication of Steve’s words. There was something so enticing about the way he’d phrased his question—his design on your body. It called to the darkness buried deep in your heart, and you began to suspect he somehow knew you were a little depraved. Like him. 

Steve held your gaze for a long moment, and you thought you saw something shift in the depths of his blue eyes, like a shadow passing in front of the sun. But it was gone just as quickly, and you questioned whether your eyes were playing tricks on you. 

Shaking yourself free of your strange thoughts, you finally managed an answer. “My ankle.” But it seemed your mouth had a mind of its own, because you found yourself flirting with the hot tattoo shop owner, a smirk curving your lips as you went on. “Do you think my ankle would be worthy of your design, sir?” you asked with feigned innocence.

As you watched for Steve’s reaction, you were rewarded with the sight of his eyes darkening, his pupils blowing wide like he greatly enjoyed the fact that you were flirting with him. His mouth spread into a hungry grin and he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully while he considered you, finally coming to a decision.

“Mm, I think your ankle is the perfect place for my design, sweet girl,” he rumbled, smiling to himself like he’d made a joke only he understood. Then his fingers were trailing lightly along the line of your jaw, distracting you with the tingling warmth they left in their wake as he stood up. “I’m going to enjoy this very much,” he murmured enigmatically before pulling away.

Your mind was too frazzled by his touch and how bereft you felt without it to wonder over his words. Besides, he was already calling for Natasha, who emerged from the back of the shop to help you through the rest of the intake process. It was only then that you realized she’d left you and Steve alone at the counter a while ago. 

She slid smoothly in front of you with that friendly smile of hers while Steve retreated into the back to begin setting up. Natasha walked you through all the paperwork, none of which was new to you. That was why you felt comfortable not fully reading the fine print. 

You should’ve read the fine print. 

Once everything was signed, Natasha led you into the back and showed you where to stow your purse. She pointed to the privacy screen where you could take off your tights and boots, then helped you into the tattoo chair at Steve’s station. 

When you were settled, Natasha bid you and Steve a good night and grabbed her own things before leaving out the back door. It was a little abrupt and you were left feeling confused.

You asked Steve if the shop was closing for the night—it seemed a little early, especially for a Friday. And he explained that he’d decided to close the shop early since they had no more appointments and were unlikely to get any other walk-ins. 

For a moment, you fretted over keeping him late, but he waved away your concerns. 

“There’s no where I’d rather be than tattooing my design on you, pretty thing,” Steve murmured charmingly while he pulled on some black latex gloves. 

The earnestness in his voice soothed your anxiety and you relaxed back into the black leather chair, your legs propped on the footrest while Steve created a stencil of his design. Soon, the two of you were so engaged in a discussion about where exactly on your ankle to place the tattoo that you forgot you were alone with the handsome owner of Hell. 

After trying a few things, you decided to have the beautiful design lay across the front of your ankle, the sides wrapping around to the back so it’d look like a permanent adornment. You smiled when Steve complimented the placement you’d chosen and felt heat suffuse your cheeks at his praise. 

It all felt mostly familiar to you, someone who’d gotten a fair amount of tattoos in your life. But what you hadn’t been prepared for was the way Steve’s hands would feel on your body, the smoothness of the latex belying the warmth of his skin as he curled his fingers around the back of your leg to pull your foot onto his lap. 

Warmth cascaded from the top of your head down through the rest of your body in a gentle, tingling shower, settling heavily between your legs. You pressed your thighs tight together, both to stave off the ache that was building there and to make sure you didn’t accidentally flash the hot tattoo artist.

You weren’t looking at Steve’s face, your gaze tracing the dark black ink decorating his skin and curling beneath the cotton of his shirt, but you thought you saw something flicker over his expression as he took in your reaction to his touch. You almost thought you saw dark shadows creeping into his gaze, blotting out his blue irises and making him look…demonic. 

But when you flicked your gaze up to his, his eyes were a normal, glittering blue. You gave him a small smile and internally shook yourself, chalking up the moment to a trick of the light.

It was dim in the back room, with only a few warm lights positioned in Steve’s corner of the space. Natasha had closed up the rest of the shop, leaving you and Steve alone in the space, which was separated from the front by a wall and a doorway covered in a thick, maroon curtain. 

The walls of the shop were painted black and covered in more of the same artwork you’d seen in the waiting area. The main difference was all the tattoo equipment and the floor that was a bare dark wood, instead of the burnt orange carpet that covered much of the front room. 

Hell was dark, eerie and intimate, and you suspected the atmosphere must be getting to you, that was the only thing that explained what you’d seen in Steve’s eyes. Yes, that must be it, you told yourself, settling into the chair and letting Steve get to work.

The buzzing of his tattoo needle filled the silence and you prepared yourself for the pain that you knew was coming. Little did you know just how much pleasure you’d feel that night as well.

Nothing about the tattoo process seemed amiss until more than halfway through, when you began to feel a strange kind of tingling in your ankle where Steve worked, the sensation slowly creeping up your leg. It settled heavily between your thighs, making your core ache with a yearning emptiness as your slit leaked wetness into your panties.

It wasn’t painful, the tingling feeling, but it was unnerving, like it didn’t belong to you, and you couldn’t understand where it was coming from. 

“Uh-uhm, Steve?” you started, a hint of a whine in your voice, though it was mostly drowned out by the concern you felt. You sat up straight, forcing yourself to ignore the urge to rock your hips and grind yourself against the leather seat of the chair. “Can we take a break? I feel…weird.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Steve purred, instantly pulling the needle away from your skin and wiping away blood and excess ink with a small towel. After he’d deposited the tattoo gun and cloth on his station, he turned back to you, blue eyes filled with concern as he removed his gloves. “You ok?” he asked, his warm hands massaging the back of your leg that was still draped in his lap.

The urge to moan at the feel of his bare hands on your skin was almost undeniable. It felt so good to have his strong fingers kneading your muscle and you flopped back into the chair, pressing your lips together to stifle the sound of pleasure that wanted to slip free. But you couldn’t stop the way your hips squirmed, your body aching for something… 

“I think so,” you said, finally answering Steve’s question with a tremulous smile. You still felt the odd sensation pulsing up your leg and slipping between your thighs, prompting a delicious throbbing in your core, but forced yourself to ask, “There’s nothing strange in the ink, right? Something I could be allergic to?” 

An allergy was the only explanation you could come up with, even though it didn’t really make sense. You’d gotten plenty of tattoos, surely you would’ve had an allergic reaction years ago if that had been a possibility. And the way you felt wasn’t like any allergic reaction you’d ever heard of. 

You looked at Steve with wide, imploring eyes, hoping he could make sense of what you were feeling.

He shook his head, his fingers working higher to knead the muscle of your calf, nearly pulling a moan from your lips that would’ve drowned out his answer.

“I promise the ingredients are all-natural,” he said, his tone earnest and reassuring. “There’s nothing that would cause an allergic reaction.”

Your head fell back against the leather chair, missing the way Steve’s mouth curved into a devious smirk, and tried to gather your thoughts. The strange tingling sensation had calmed, you thought, having been replaced by the feeling of warmth that Steve’s touch inspired. 

Shaking yourself lightly, you told yourself it must’ve just been the tattoo needle hitting a nerve or something. You’d never had that feeling before with any of your other tattoos, but it must’ve been something to do with Steve’s method. It hadn’t been painful, so it didn’t mean something was wrong. It was fine. You told yourself you would be fine.

“Ok,” you said softly on a sigh, letting yourself sink into the comforting massage of Steve’s fingers. Your body felt a little heavy, a throbbing desire pulsing in your core, but suspected it had more to do with the hot tattoo artist’s fingers than anything else.

Blinking your eyes open, you met Steve’s steady, patient gaze. 

“We can keep going,” you said, giving him a smile that you hoped looked brave.

You must’ve succeeded, because Steve’s mouth curved into a pleased grin and his hand slid higher up your leg and settled on your thigh just above your knee, giving it an affectionate squeeze. His big palm on your bare skin sent a riot of sensation through your body, and when he squeezed you, you felt a mirroring clench of your inner muscles, your body aching to be filled.

“That’s my girl,” Steve murmured affectionately, his blue eyes glimmering with so much proud satisfaction that you felt your face heat and you ducked your head to hide a giddy grin. 

Steve gave your thigh one last squeeze before pulling away to put on a new pair of gloves and refill his tattoo needle.  While he worked, you couldn’t help but close your eyes and sigh silently, your skin feeling much too cold without him touching you.

For the rest of the tattoo, you tried to sit still while the tingling warmth rolled through your body, settling deliciously between your thighs and teasing your throbbing core until you were dripping into your panties. You had the absurd urge to spread your legs, to beg Steve to fill you—with his fingers, his cock, anything, so long as it put an end to the ache pulsing insistently in your body. 

You tried to be good, to be still and quiet so Steve could finish your tattoo. But apparently you weren’t doing as good of a job as you hoped. 

“If you keep squirming, ‘m gonna have to tie you down, pretty girl,” Steve rumbled, his head bent low over your ankle while he worked diligently. 

His voice was so low and deep, you swore you could feel it in your belly, the delicious rumbling tenor teasing your clit, and your hips shifted again, your thighs clenching tight against your needy slit. 

“Sweetheart,” he growled in warning, his hand gripping your foot firmly and tugging on it hard enough that you slid a few inches down in the chair. 

It took every ounce of your self-control not to whimper with desire at the evidence of Steve’s strength. Your imagination flooded with visions of him tossing you around in his tattoo chair, bending you over while he pressed his bulge into your ass or flipping you onto your back and folding you in half so he could pound into your pussy. 

A whine clawed up your throat, desperation flooding your body and making you want to writhe and beg and plead, but you bit it all back. Forcing yourself to be still, you asked, “Are you almost done?” in a tight, tense voice. 

“Almost done,” he confirmed, his voice soothing. He looked up briefly, giving you a rakish grin. “You can be good for me, can’t you, sweet girl?” 

Your heart lurched in your chest. It was all you wanted, to be good for Steve. So you nodded eagerly and tried to relax back into the chair. Your fingers were digging into the padded leather of the armrests and you pushed yourself deeper into the reclined seat, doing your best to ignore the heat and desperate, aching, insistent need pounding through your body.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you said on a small huff, your eyes shut tight so you couldn’t see Steve’s reaction. Your voice was little more than a whine as you went on, “I’ve never felt like this.”

You heard Steve chuckle, the sound rolling over you like a deep, delicious wave. Then, just barely over the buzzing of the tattoo needled pressed to your skin, you thought you heard him say, “Just wait, sweet thing,” in a dark, ominous voice you hardly recognized.

But you didn’t have a chance to try to parse out what he meant, because suddenly, you felt the sensation of a cold, hard shackle closing around your ankle.

It felt so real, and so at odds with the sensation of Steve pulling the needle away from your skin, that your whole body jerked. Quickly, you sat up and stared down at your leg, but there was no metal cuff. Only the tattoo. Finished.

Fresh black ink shimmered from your skin, and you had a brief moment to appreciate the artistry of Steve’s work, the beautiful, intricate design of the symbol. The phantom feeling of a manacle wrapped around your ankle remained, and you looked up at Steve, finding him wearing a smug, devious smirk. 

You couldn’t make sense of his expression, and in the next breath, it didn’t matter, because the fire that had been simmering in your blood suddenly blazed into an inferno. You couldn’t help the pained cry that fled your lips as you fell back into the chair, desire burning a demanding path through your body and tearing through your mind. 

Your legs fell open on the leather seat, a pornographic moan slipping from your lips when the cool air of the tattoo shop brushed against your inner thighs. Your fingers tugged fussily at your sweater, trying to claw off the once-cozy garment that suddenly felt too heavy and constricting against your scorching skin. 

Your eyes swiveled in your head, seeking and finding Steve, who was standing beside the chair and staring down at you. His gaze was lit with a depraved fire and his mouth was curled into a delighted grin.

“Aw, poor little plaything, are you feeling hot and bothered?” he cooed at you in a mean, patronizing tone that was so at odds with the charming affability you’d come to expect from the tattoo artist that you felt like you’d been slapped. 

A pathetic whimper slipped from your lips, and Steve’s eyes seemed to glow brighter, his smile hitching wider, growing more hungry and more eager at the same time. Leaning over your squirming body, Steve stroked the tips of his fingers down your cheek.

Your body’s reaction to his touch was instantaneous. The burning, blistering pain of need calmed enough that it no longer hurt, and you chased Steve’s fingertips instinctively, associating his contact with relief. He let you nuzzle into the palm of his hand, chuckling darkly when you sighed happily, your mind moving too slow to process what was happening.

“Should we get this cumbersome sweater off you, sweet thing?” Steve murmured, his hands curving around your shoulders before stroking down your sides. His thumbs brushed over the tips of your breasts and your spine arched off the chair, pushing into his touch, needing more. 

You were so hot, so achy, so needy, and you somehow knew Steve was the only one who could help you feel better. Distantly, you knew it was highly inappropriate to let your tattoo artist undress you, even one as hot as Steve, but in that moment, you didn’t care. His touch through your sweater wasn’t enough—you needed him to touch your bare skin. 

So you nodded frantically, whimpering, “Yes, please, Steve, help.”

The man laughed, a dark, evil chuckle rumbling from his chest. 

You didn’t understand what was funny, but you didn’t protest because his big hands slipped under the hem of your sweater and he touched you properly. His palms were warm, his fingers calloused and rough against your belly. 

You sucked in a surprised breath when his touch sent sizzling tingles of pleasure through your body, gathering in your throbbing slit and making more wetness gush into your panties. 

If you’d been in your right mind, you might’ve felt embarrassed over how wet you were from Steve sliding his hands up your stomach, but all you could do was revel in the pleasure his touch brought you. Your mouth curved into a delirious smile as you stared dazedly up at the supernaturally handsome man like he was the center of your universe.

Slowly, almost torturously, Steve slid your sweater up until it bunched above your breasts and he paused. His hands wrapped around your ribs, thumbs stroking over your skin beneath the band of your bra. He stared down at you, his blue eyes nearly glowing with hungry desire as his gaze raked over the lace containing your breasts.

Your chest heaved with your gasping breaths, and you took the moment to try to settle. The fire in your blood didn’t burn painfully with Steve touching you, but you still wanted—no, needed—more. Your hips squirmed in the leather seat and a whine clawed up your throat until it spilled free.

“Steeeve, please,” you begged, staring up at the tattoo artist with wide, imploring eyes. At the same time, you lifted your arms above your head and sat up a little in an effort to get him to pull your sweater the rest of the way off. Instead of spurring him to move, though, it had the opposite effect. 

Steve went still, closing his eyes like he was savoring the sound of your whining voice and begging words. When he opened them a moment later, they appeared darker—the soft, sky blue of his irises darkened to an almost midnight black, with inky swirls of darkness creeping in from the edges.

Then he blinked, and his eyes went back to normal. 

You were too distracted by your body’s need to think much about the fact that his eyes had gone nearly pitch black—that he’d looked, for a moment, like one of the monstrous demons from the art adorning the walls of Hell. 

Your delirious, desirous mind let the moment slip by unquestioned, instead focusing on your lust—and on Steve. 

“Lift up for me, pretty thing,” he cooed, his tone almost gentle despite the grit and gravel in his voice. 

You did as he said, lifting your back away from the chair so he could pull your sweater off, leaving you in just your bra, skirt and panties on his tattoo chair.

In the short moment when Steve’s hands deserted your body, the blazing inferno of need returned. You groaned in pain, reaching for Steve and latching on to his wrist. The burning sensation abated the second you touched him, but you didn’t stop there, dragging his hand back to your body and sighing in further relief when you pressed his palm to your breast. 

You didn’t know if Steve pushed you back into the chair or if you fell back and he followed, but he leaned over you, his big hands kneading your tits through your bra. A moan tumbled from you as you sank into the feeling, melting beneath his touch. It just felt so good—and the rougher he got, the harder he groped your tits, pulling and pinching on your nipples through the lace of your bra, the better it felt.

“That’s it, plaything, moan for me—let me hear how much you love it when I abuse your tits,” Steve growled, leaning so far over you that his head blocked out the light above the chair. His face was contorted into a greedy expression, his eyes sharp and hungry as he watched pleasure dance across your features. “You’re such a dumb little doll, you have no idea what’s heppening to you, do you?”

His tone was mean and mocking, but your body responded to the deep tenor of it all the same, wetness gushing between your thighs while your hips writhed on the leather seat, seeking something to grind against. 

Your mind was hazy with lust and pleasure and confusion. It took you a long few moments to understand what he’d asked and when you did, it sparked a bit of fear. But even that dissolved into pleasure and you moaned, your hands clinging to Steve’s wrists—not trying to pull him away, just anchoring yourself to him. 

“Wha-what’s happening to me?” you whined breathlessly, blinking your eyes up at Steve with an equal amount of uncertainty and trust. You still didn’t realize he was the reason for what was happening, but you’d come to learn that soon enough. Not that it would matter.

“Oh, baby, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about that,” Steve cooed, his tone changing so quickly back to gentle and reassuring, it nearly gave you whiplash. 

Still, pleasure swirled in your chest at the sweet praise in his words, even if they were more than a little condescending. A smile curled the corners of your lips, but you forced yourself to focus. There was something you wanted to know—something Steve knew, and you were determined to get the answer from him. You knew it was important, even if you couldn’t remember why.

“Steve, pleeease,” you whimpered, your words dissolving into a moan when he shoved the lace cups of your bra down and pinched your nipples harder, pulling and twisting them until your spine was arching up off the leather seat. It took you a long moment to remember your train of thought and continue on. “Tell me, Steve, please, I can handle it—what’s happening to me?” 

A wide smirk spread across Steve’s face and his eyes flickered with shadows that seemed to want to consume his gaze the same way he looked like he wanted to consume you. Bending over your squirming, twitching body, Steve’s face hovered just above yours, an evil kind of mischief in his expression. 

“If I tell you, do you promise you’ll take it like a good girl?”

Images assailed your imagination—Steve shoving his cock deep in your cunt, growling at you to take it like a good girl while he fucked you like a bat out of hell. Steve pounding into your mouth, grunting his pleasure as he spilled down your throat and ordered you to take it like a good girl. Steve stretching your ass around his cock, smoothing a hand down your spine as he cooed at you in that meanly patronizing tone to take it like a good girl. 

A loud, debauched moan slipped from your lips as bliss pulsed through your body. It took you a long moment to push the images from your mind and gather your scattered thoughts enough to blink your eyes open and nod up at Steve.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you said fiercely, knowing somewhere deep down that if you were a good girl for him, the visions you’d had would become a reality. And you wanted so badly for them to become a reality—at any cost. 

A devious, delighted grin spread across Steve’s face at your answer, satisfaction shimmering in his eyes. Then one of his hands let go of your breast and skimmed down your body, over your hip and down your leg until his fingers circled your ankle, just above the tattoo he’d given you. 

“This design you chose, it’s not just something I designed—it’s my mark,” he purred, putting emphasis on the last two words as if you’d know what that meant. But you still didn’t understand what your tattoo had to do with what was happening to you. His explanation just made you more confused.

“What does that mean?” you whimpered, your voice desperate and pleading. You wanted to understand, you wanted to be good for Steve and grasp whatever it was he was trying to tell you, but the meaning of his words was still out of reach.

“Think hard, sweetheart,” Steve cooed, his voice turning sweet in a way that had your belly swooping deliciously. 

When you still didn’t seem to understand, Steve’s hand slid down, his palm covering your fresh tattoo and you gasped. His touch against the mark felt like he was yanking on a thread that had been tied behind your belly button. It felt like you were tethered to something…to him, you realized. 

You were tethered to Steve by some sort of magic. The mark he’d tattooed on your skin had bound you to him…

All the air fled your lungs as comprehension sank into your mind. Your face twisted in shock and understanding, though the expression didn’t last long. 

“There it is, that’s my girl,” Steve praised, squeezing your ankle and pressing his palm more firmly down on the mark. 

The touch dragged a reluctant moan from you as pleasure swirled through your body, and you weren’t certain if it was your own or the result of the bond between the two of you. When you got control of yourself, you glared up at the devious tattoo artist, letting him see the betrayal written plainly across your face.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, baby,” Steve rumbled, his other hand wrapping around the front of your throat and tipping your chin up while he bent down until there were mere inches between you. “You heard the story, and you ignored its warning.” He tsked at you, shaking his head when you only narrowed your eyes in anger. “You weren’t careful about getting tattooed on Friday the 13th and now you’re enslaved to a dark force—you’re enslaved to me.”

He didn’t give you a chance to react to that declaration, only closed the distance between your lips, covering your mouth with his own to steal a kiss. And, god help you, what a kiss it was. 

Steve’s mouth slanted perfectly to yours, his lips soft and seeking as they brushed against yours. His tongue flicked out, licking along the seam of your lips as if asking for entry, and you were helpless to the pleasure he offered. 

Your lips parted with a soft gasp, an invitation if ever there was one, and he wasted no time slipping in. Steve took possession of your mouth, plundering your body while his hands held you firmly pinned beneath him. 

It wasn’t long before you were moaning into his mouth and kissing him back, your fingers plunging into his soft, blond hair and nails digging into the skin at the nape of his neck until he was growling into your mouth. 

His hand around your neck squeezed harder, choking you lightly in retaliation for the bite of your nails and you pulsed with so much heat, you cried out sharply, the sound transforming into a whine of need. 

Steve nipped your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, and the coppery taste mixed with the heat of his tongue as he licked it from your mouth. When he pulled away a moment later, you could see the traces of red staining his lips—though that wasn’t nearly as disturbing as the sight of his eyes. 

Writhing shadows had blotted out the blue irises of his gaze, leaving only two fathomless pools of darkness shimmering in the warm lights of Hell. A shiver raced down your spine, unease and curiosity filling your chest as you stared at the suddenly inhuman visage of the handsome tattoo artist. 

Steve Rogers was still attractive, even with the unnatural eyes of a demon, but the shadows in his gaze changed the terrain of his face. His teeth looked sharper in his mouth, and the curve of his smirk looked more cruel. His jaw looked more angular and his body seemed bigger, broader, more intimidating as he loomed above you. 

And yet…

You liked how Steve looked when he’d shed the pretense of humanity. He was somehow, impossibly, hotter. More dangerous, sure, but also freer in a way that you found enticing. 

It took you a moment, your mind swimming with pleasure and the tingling remnants of his kiss, to pinpoint exactly what you liked about seeing Steve without the guise he must’ve been wearing. He was more himself. And this version of him, this demonic visage, called to the darkness inside of you in a way that made you feel like he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him.

Pressing a palm to your forehead like you could push that thought straight out of your head, you forced yourself to focus on the present. “Nooo,” you moaned in a small voice, mostly to yourself because you were already thinking it wouldn’t be so bad to belong to Steve, especially if he belonged to you, too. 

But, for all you could feel the bond between you and the demon strengthening and solidifying as your tattoo healed supernaturally fast, his desire and lust mixing with your own, he still couldn’t read your mind. And he must’ve thought you were protesting the newfound connection between the two of you.

“Ohh yes, sweetheart,” Steve growled, his fingers digging into the sides of your throat and tipping your face up so he could see your eyes. 

The two shimmering pools of darkness were writhing with agitation, and you stared at them in wonder, your mouth falling open with awe. They were just as beautiful as his human eyes, looking like the surface of the deep ocean at night. 

“You’re mine, pretty little plaything,” Steve rasped, his voice low and dark and vehement, like he was determined to make you understand your new reality. “Your heart, your body, your soul—it’s all mine,” he went on, pausing only to capture your lips in a brief, but searing kiss, like he was marking you all over again. “You’re bound to me for eternity, baby, enslaved to all my whims, and I bet you know what I want rigt now.”

You did know. You could feel Steve’s lust slinking through the bond, flooding your body and creating the burning need that was so painful when he wasn’t touching you. But beneath it, you could feel your own desire, too. The yearning you’d felt for the tattoo artist that had only grown since you’d discovered his true nature as the demon from the Friday the 13th legend. 

Watching your face keenly, Steve let go of your ankle, grabbing one of your wrists and bringing your hand to the bulge in his pants. It was so big and hot and hard, even through the stiff denim of his jeans, that you whimpered. But you didn’t pull away, letting Steve use his grip to make you stroke his cock. And when he groaned his pleasure, your fingers tightened, giving his thick length a curious squeeze. 

“This is what you do to me, pretty girl, this is why you’re the one I chose,” he growled, his voice so deep, it sounded animalistic. “I knew from the moment you walked into my shop with your sweet little skirt and your dark little heart that you were going to be mine—and now I’ve got you.” 

It occurred to you to ask what he meant about your heart, but you suspected you knew. He’d looked deep into your heart and soul saw the darkness there—and it was exactly what he wanted. 

The knowledge that you were what he wanted filled you with a sense of pride, and you took over from Steve. You stroked his cock through his jeans without his guidance, squeezing him while you stared up at him, devotion written across your face while you pressed your throat into his hand, knowing the tattoos on his fingers were making a pretty necklace.

“You’re my precious little plaything, aren’t you, baby?” Steve cooed at you, sweeping his thumb over your jaw and swiping it across your lower lip. “Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy being mine.”

You ducked your head, taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking on him, your eyes going heavy lidded as you nodded your agreement. Steve grunted a pleased sound.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” he purred, pressing his thumb onto your tongue and pushing deeper into your mouth. “You’re gonna be such a good fucktoy for your demon master, aren’t you?”

You could feel Steve’s cock twitch beneath your fingertips and you squeezed him harder, moaning when you felt an answering pulse deep in your cunt. The burning desire that had been held at bay by the realization of what exactly he was and what he’d done to you returned with a fury that would not be ignored.

“Yes, master,” you murmured obligingly after tipping your head back to slide him from your mouth. You pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb and smiled up at Steve, your eyes hungry and eager.

The demon’s gaze darkened further somehow, filling with greed and lust and just about every sin you could imagine—all promising to do dirty, filthy things to your body in the name of slaking the desire that burned brightly in both of you. 

“I knew you were perfect,” he growled, grabbing your throat and pulling you in for another kiss. His mouth was hot and demanding, his kiss inciting the fire in your body to burn hotter, making the throbbing between your legs impossible to ignore. 

While he kissed you breathless, your fingers kept stroking his cock through his jeans, your other hand sliding beneath the hem of his t-shirt to rake your nails through the thin trail of hair dusting his abs. Both of you groaned at the contact, Steve’s tongue plunging into your mouth as his hips thrust against your palm. 

Just as quickly as he’d dragged you into the kiss, Steve pulled away, shoving you roughly back into the chair. Your back hit the padded leather, a light, “oomph,” of surprise tumbling from your lips. One of his hands gripped your thigh possessively, fingers digging into your soft flesh while he leaned down and pulled a lever somewhere on the chair.

The footrest dropped away, allowing Steve to step between your legs, his hands groping roughly at your thighs, your hips, your tits. A low rumbling growl sounded in his chest every time his hand touched a piece of your clothing, as if they offended him personally. You squirmed in your seat, trying to find the words to beg him to take off the rest of your clothes, but all you could manage was a desperate whine.

“Are you still feeling hot, baby?” Steve asked, his tone playfully condescending as he skimmed his hands up your bare legs and tugged on the hem of your skirt—which, at that point, was barely covering anything with the way your legs were splayed open around his hips. “Should we get rid of the rest of these tiresome clothes?” 

You were nodding your head before he even finished his question, his hands making quick work of unzipping your skirt and tugging on it until you lifted your hips so he could drag it down along with your panties. He stepped back so he could pull them off your legs, raking his gaze up your body and pointedly looking at your bra.

“Take it off, fucktoy,” he growled, his tone going mean again. 

The quick change of his mood had you gasping with surprise, even as his rough voice made you gush more wetness between your thighs. You didn’t know if you’d ever get used to the demon’s mercurial moods, but you liked the unpredictability—it meant you’d never grow bored.

Scrambling to do as Steve said, you pushed forward from the chair to unclip your bra and ripped it off, dumping it unceremoniously on the floor. When that was done, the demon shoved your legs open and stepped back between them, pushing your legs up to drape over the armrests of the chair.

“Good girl,” Steve rumbled, stroking his hands down your thighs, digging his fingers in suddenly, hard enough to make you squeal and squirm. He chuckled, looking like he enjoyed your reaction, and pushed your legs wider, spreading you so fully, you felt a twinge of discomfort in your hip. But the pain was soothed away a moment later by the pleasure throbbing through your body.

A sharp exhale gusted from Steve the moment he laid his eyes on your bare pussy. He was staring down at you like you were everything to him, like you were the center of his universe. He looked like he was a mere second away from getting down on his knees and worshipping at the altar of your body.

More surprising than the way he was looking at you was what you could feel through the bond tethering you to the demon. You could feel his devotion in your soul, the sensation curling round your heart and filling you with a sense of adoration that was both yours and Steve’s. 

As much as you were his, you knew, with absolutely certainty, that he was yours, too. For better or for worse.

But the longer Steve stared down at your body, his hands unable to stop touching you—exploring every inch of your skin, his palms cupping your breasts, thumbs stroking over you nipples before he curved his fingers around your ribs and skimmed down to your hips, feeling you, learning you—the more you began to believe it wasn’t so bad being bonded to a demon.

You hadn’t noticed your gaze had drifted away from the demon, staring unseeingly over his shoulder while you reveled in the feel of him touching you, until his hand came down sharply on your slit, slapping your pussy so sharply, you cried out in surprise, tears springing to your eyes. Pleasure and pain burned through you, writhing and fighting for dominance, and you were helpless to the sensation.

“Eyes on me, fucktoy,” Steve growled, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. His fingers dug into your cheeks, his face looming over yours while his hand came down again, spanking your cunt and making your whole body jerk in the leather chair from the sharp, stinging pleasure. “You’re my dumb little cock slave, and you’ll look at me like a good girl when I’m playing with you like you’re my own personal fuck doll—got it?”

The demon punctuated his seething question with another spank to your pussy, and it was the hardest of all, but though you expected pain, you felt only pleasure. A loud, pornographic moan, spilled from your lips while your mind swirled, your whole body throbbing like you were one big nerve ending. 

Forcing your eyes open, you found Steve watching you expectantly. You gasped for air and scrambled for words “Yes, master,” you cried, surprising even yourself when you shouted, “I’m your good little fucktoy!” 

Steve seemed appeased, a satisfied smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth while his fingers rubbed through your drenched folds. “You are, baby,” he assured you. “You’re such a good little plaything for your master.” 

His words were an alluring purr, soothing you. Then, he surprised you by shoving three of his fingers into your cunt, making your whole body shudder from the unrelenting and sudden fullness.

“Oh god,” you moaned, pleasure ricocheting violently through your body. You squirmed in the chair, feeling your pussy spasm with delight, your wetness gushing out of you and dripping down between your ass cheeks, making a mess on the chair. 

“God’s not going to help you now, sweet thing,” Steve rumbled with a smirk, pulling his fingers out of you before pushing them deep into your sopping wet hole again. “You sold your soul to me, He has no dominion over you anymore—you’re mine for eternity.”

His thumb rubbed your clit and you cried out helplessly, barely hearing his words as your body focused on the pleasure he was giving you. He pushed deeper, his fingers stroking a spot inside you that had your spine arching and your hips bearing down on his delicious intrusion. You were so wet, he fucked you easily with his three fingers, spreading them wide to stretch you open. 

“Oh fuck,” you whined, your whole body shaking with need while the demon fucked you slowly with his fingers. You watched them slide into you, your folds swollen and puffy from his rough spanking. He was moving with a torturous laziness and you squirmed, mewling for more, “Faster, Steve, please.” 

Suddenly, Steve’s fingers pulled free from your obscenely wet pussy, and a second later they were being shoved into your mouth. Your sweet, musky taste exploded on your tongue as the demon pushed them deep, making you gag on his slick fingers while he loomed above you. 

“What did you call me?” he seethed through gritted teeth, the dark shadows of his eyes roiling like a churning sea.

“M’m sowwy,” you mumbled around his fingers, drool dripping down your chin and tears spilling onto your cheeks. 

Steve’s mood immediately calmed at the sight of your tears and he made a soft shushing sound as he pulled his fingers from your mouth. “There, there, my sweet little plaything,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss and lick the salty tears from your skin. “I like it better when you call me master—can you be a good girl and call me master?”

The way Steve was bent over you, the bulge in his jeans pressed into your leaking cunt and you rubbed against him like a cat in heat, your hole aching to be filled, but you knew you had to answer his question first. 

“Yes, master,” you whimpered, “I’mma be a good girl, I swear.” 

“That’s my girl,” Steve purred, swiping the drool from your chin and pressing a kiss to your mouth. It was sweet and slow, his mouth praising you without words and making your head spin with the feeling of affection slipping through the bond. 

When he pulled away, Steve gave you a stern look, his brow lowered over his black eyes and his mouth pressed into a firm line. 

“Now, I can feel you rubbing your cute little cunt on my cock, baby,” he rumbled, his hands groping your thighs, but not pinning you down to make you stop. So you kept humping against him, your body shameless in its need for him. “But I want you to use your words—what do you want from your master?”

“Fuck me, master—please, oh g-fuck, I need your cock, master, please, please, please give it to me,” you babbled, blinking away the last of your tears to stare up into the handsome face of your demon. 

You could still feel his lust and desire and fondness thrumming through the bond he’d created, but beneath that, deep in your own heart, you felt your own affection swell. You’d had a crush on Steve before he’d sealed the bond, and—god help you—those feelings didn’t waver in light of his trickery. If anything, every touch, no matter how rough or soft, only strengthened them. 

Steve’s fingers dug into the plush flesh of your thighs, his grip possessive as he stared down at you with a satisfied smirk. 

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you beg for me, baby—not for a millennia, at least,” he murmured, ducking down to capture your swollen lips in a kiss. 

At the same time, he rubbed his bulge against your sensitive pussy, making you cry out so that he could swallow the sound down. 

Kissing him back, you whimpered into his lips, need burning through your body and making you impatient. Your fingernails raked down the front of Steve’s chest, reveling in the way his firm muscles contracted, and the sharp little breaths he took. 

You hooked your fingers under the lower hem and tugged the shirt up with a desperate whine until Steve yanked it off over his head, breaking your kiss for only a second. 

Your fingers explored the smooth planes of Steve’s chest, brushing over his beautiful tattoos as you traced his hard muscles. All the while, he kissed you, devoured you, his own hands kneading your thighs and your tits and plucking at your nipples until you were writhing mindlessly beneath him. 

“Please, master,” you keened, arching your spine and pushing your tits into his palms. “Fuck me, pleeease!” You tugged demandingly on the waist of his jeans, your fingers fumbling to undo the buckle of his belt.

Steve only chuckled maddeningly, rubbing his clothed cock into your sopping wet pussy while he pressed kisses to your jaw. 

“C’mon, baby, you can beg better than that, can’t you?” he rumbled, his tone playful and warm, but it quickly turned dark and demanding. “Beg me to split you open on my dick, to fucking ruin your pretty little pussy with my fat demon cock—use your filthy mouth, sweetheart, tell me all the dirty things you want your evil master to do to you.”

“Oh fuck, yes,” you groaned, squirming beneath him and humping shamelessly against his bulge. “Please, master—please ruin me, hurt me, abuse me,” you cried, not knowing where the words were coming from, but you suspected they were being ripped right from that dark place deep in your heart, your soul. “Fill my holes with your demon cock and pump me full of cum, wanna be bulging with your seed, master—wanna be your dumb little fucktoy for all eternity. Make me yours, please!”

You cut off on a broken, desperate sob, and Steve’s mouth covered yours with an animalistic roar, kissing you hard—like he was branding you all over again. It made you moan louder, kissing him back just as fervently.

Your head spun from Steve’s kiss, but you could feel his hands fumbling between your legs. Then, the hot, hard length of him smacked against your swollen, smarting pussy, making you cry out into his mouth. 

Steve drank down your sounds greedily, like they were the nectar of the gods. His tongue pushed into your mouth, licking into you as if trying to lap up your pleasured noises straight from their source.

“You’re fucking perfect, baby,” Steve praised when he pulled away, his voice silky and earnest in a way that made your heart warm in your chest. 

His mood had switched again, and you didn’t think you’d ever get tired of the way it could shift like the wind. It was exciting and thrilling—like riding your own personal roller coaster. But no matter how his mood seemed to shift, you always felt his affection through the bond. Your demon was just fickle about how he liked to show that affection.

“Such a good fucking girl for me, ‘m gonna give you exactly what you want, sweet thing,” Steve went on, rubbing his hot, hard length through your drenched folds, coating himself in your wetness. “Gonna bury my cock in your holes for an aeon, keep you dumb and drunk on my cock, gonna make you my precious little plaything.” 

“Yes, master, please,” you whimpered, your hands finding Steve’s waist and pulling your bodies closer, your ass sliding to the edge of the chair. “Fuck my tight little hole, please—please!” 

Something in Steve seemed to snap, and with a snarl, he folded you in half in his leather tattoo chair, pushing your knees to your chest and lining up the head of his cock with your weeping entrance. In the next breath, he shoved his cock deep into your cunt, splitting you open with such a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure that your screams filled the whole of Hell. 

Steve gave you only a moment to adjust to the sheer girth of his thick, massive cock before he pulled back and snapped his hips forward, the sound of his thighs hitting your ass making a loud clapping sound. 

Your mouth fell open, the most obscene, pornographic moans coming from your lips. Against your will, your eyes slid closed.

Grabbing the back of your head to hold it still, Steve slapped your cheek—hard—making your eyes fly back open. The stinging pain blurred into a deep, aching pleasure, and your cry of surprise devolved into a lewd moan. 

“What did I tell you, fucktoy?” Steve growled, slapping you again, harder. The pools of his eyes churned dangerously, his mouth twisted with determination as he reminded you of his earlier command. “Keep your fucking eyes on me.”

Though you knew his strikes were meant to be punishing, he was keeping a tight leash on his strength. His hand smarted but he never truly hurt you. 

It was more degrading, feeling Steve slap your face, and you enjoyed it much more than you would’ve expected. The sounds of your desperate, depraved pleasure spilling freely from your lips. 

When you managed to focus your gaze on your demon, you found Steve watching you with a smug smirk on his face. 

“Do you like it when I slap you, sweet thing?” he cooed, his hips driving into yours, fucking you deep and hard with his thick cock while he held the back of your head. He didn’t wait for an answer, slapping you again, letting your face twist to the side before forcing you back to look at him. “Do you want me to hurt you more, pretty girl?”

“Yes, master!” you cried, surprising even yourself. But you were greedy for the mixture of pain and pleasure Steve offered, finding you were quickly growing addicted to the wicked way he made you feel. “Play rough with your fucktoy—please, master, I want it!”

“Good girl,” Steve purred, grinning wider and using his free hand to slap your tits, your thighs, anywhere he could reach. The sharp smacking sounds joined with the clapping of his hips against your ass and the obscene wet noises of your pussy being fucked. “You’re such a perfect little plaything, baby, taking it like such a good girl for your master.”

Steve leaned more heavily on top of you, his hips pressing his cock so deep, you sobbed with pleasure, feeling like he was pushing into your cervix. Pain and pleasure made your mind spin, and your hands clung to Steve’s thick biceps, your nails digging sharply into his skin.

Your demon hissed out a breath at the bite of your nails, his hips stuttering and fucking more powerfully into you. He slammed against a spot deep inside your cunt that had you thrashing beneath him in the leather chair, clawing at him even more.

“Fuck yeah, sweetheart, hurt me back,” he growled, his tone taunting you meanly as he went on. “Show me what ya got, I can take it.” 

Darkness rose inside of you, and though it was tempting to believe it was solely the effect of the demon’s mark on your body, you knew it wasn’t. This was the darkness that had grown within you over the years, the one that had called out to the demon and had been so pleased when he answered your call by binding you to him for an eternity of sinful servitude. 

Skimming your hands up to Steve’s shoulders, you didn’t miss the way he looked a little disappointed at your light touch. You curled your lips in an impish grin—the only warning you gave him before you dug your nails deep into his skin, dragging them down over his inked shoulders and biceps as hard as you could.

Though you didn’t break skin, dark red lines appeared on his pale skin where it shone through and Steve groaned loudly, his hips twitching before he picked up his pace. He fucked you faster, with punishingly violent strokes that had you babbling an endless stream of pleasured noises.

“That’s it, plaything, let it out—take it out on me,” he growled encouragingly. 

You didn’t know what exactly he was prompting you to let out, but you suspected it had something to do with the darkness churning in your chest. And his reaction, his pleasure in response to the pain you’d given him, lit something inside you. The darkness unfurled further as you finally let it free, and you felt Steve’s encouragement through the bond you shared.

Tilting your hips up so that Steve could pound harder and deeper into your pussy, you reached around to his lower back, raking your nails up the long length of his muscles. You pressed so deep, you would’ve gouged into a human’s skin. But your demon was made of sturdier stuff, and he simply grunted in pleasure, fucking you harder—so hard, it nearly hurt.

Steve was glorious above you, his demented coal-black eyes staring down at you with a fathomless greed you could feel thrumming in your own heart. It made you want to hurt him. It made you want to love him. 

Frightened by both impulses, you grabbed Steve by the back of his neck, digging your nails into his skin as you pulled him down. Instead of kissing him, though, your face buried into the crook of his neck and you sank your teeth into the spot at the base of his throat, the one free of ink, biting him hard enough you thought you might actually pierce the demon’s skin.

He tasted like fire and smoke and salt. 

Steve’s growling groan rumbled in his throat and you felt it against your cheek, moaning in answer while you licked his warm, golden skin. You sucked on him hard, wanting to leave your own mark on your demon, sinking your teeth in further while his cock pressed deep inside you.

Your demon allowed it for a moment, then his hand wrapped around the front of your throat and he pushed you away, pinning you hard against the back of the tattoo chair while he climbed on top of you. The back gave way until you were laying flat and Steve’s big body was covering yours. 

The chair rocked dangerously, but stayed upright and Steve caged you in beneath him, fucking you in slow, lazy strokes.

“You bite me like that again, sweetheart, and ‘m gonna blow my load way too soon,” he grumbled, glaring at you, though there wasn’t any heat to it. Especially since you could feel his pleasure through the bond. 

“Oops,” you said, unable to hold back your giggle. Steve didn’t look nearly as amused as you felt, so you forced yourself to look a little contrite as you pouted and simpered, “Sorry, master.”

Shaking his head and huffing a laugh, you felt his humor slip through the bond and saw his mouth flicker in a smile. 

“Baby, baby, baby, what am I gonna do with you, huh?” he purred. Tilting his head to the side, he considered you with smirk. “You’ve only been bound to me for an hour and I’ve already corrupted you, sweetheart.” 

He ducked down, dragging his nose from the base of your throat up to your jaw, nipping at the spot just below your ear that had you moaning softly. Your legs clung to his sides, holding him close in the cradle of your body while he kissed your neck.  

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement, even though you both knew it was the darkness in your heart that had drawn him to you in the first place, not that he’d corrupted you. “I guess you’ll just have to keep me, master,” you said sweetly, lifting your hips to meet Steve’s languid strokes, gasping when the tip of his cock hit that spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars. 

At your words, Steve huffed a laugh, burying his face in your neck and mumbling against your skin, “As if I’d ever be able to let you go.” He rocked into your body, wringing another moan from you as he grunted his own pleasure. “Fuck, your cunt feels so good, ‘m not gonna last much longer.”

“Master, please, ‘m so close,” you whimpered into his ear. You wrapped one of your arms around his broad shoulders while your other hand dove into his soft, blond hair. You clung to your demon while he dug his arms beneath your back, holding you pinned beneath his body so he could rut ferociously into you.

“Bite me, baby,” Steve growled, pounding into you with short, hard thrusts, grinding the base of his cock against your clit with each one. “Mark me—show me I’m yours.” His voice was a desperate, greedy rasp, his need thrumming through your body through the bond, and you couldn’t think of doing anything but indulging him.

Your teeth sank deep into Steve’s neck, in the one spot that wasn’t covered in ink, and sucked hard on his skin, licking his throbbing pulse point at the same time. He growled wildly, his thrusts turning harder and meaner, his fingers slipping between your bodies to find your clit and rub ruthlessly.

You didn’t know which of you came first because it seemed like you both pushed each other over the edge in the same instant. 

The coil of pleasure deep in your belly snapped suddenly, and pleasure exploded through your body, leaving devastation in its wake as you screamed your release. At the same time, Steve groaned, long and loud, his cock throbbing deep inside your cunt while he spilled his seed into your fluttering channel. 

Your demon kept fucking you as you both rode out the waves of pleasure, your body clinging to his and milking his cock while he held you crushed to his chest. 

Your gasps for air turned to deeper breaths as you slowly came down from your peak, and you were distantly aware of Steve hauling you up from the chair and spinning around to sit while you sprawled in his lap.

As you recovered together, Steve’s fingertips danced up and down your spine while your head lay on his inked shoulder and you watched the red indents of your teeth slowly fade from his neck. A frown pulled at the edges of your mouth, and you wondered how on earth he’d managed to get tattooed if it was so difficult to leave a mark on his skin.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked in a deep, gruff voice, like he’d been on the brink of sleep. 

It took you a moment of being confused about how he could’ve possibly seen your frown before you remembered the bond. You still felt the tether to him, like a string tied behind your belly button, but you didn’t feel a tug on it until his palm skimmed down to your ankle and his hand closed over the tattoo he’d given you, which was healed somehow. 

“How did that heal so fast?” you asked, sitting up twisting around to look at your ankle. The sweeping, delicate curves peaked out from behind Steve’s hand, and you brushed your fingertips over the inked lines with wonder. 

“There was a drop of my blood in the ink,” Steve answered, and when you looked at him, he wore a mischievous smirk. “I told you the ingredients were all-natural, didn’t I?” he asked charmingly and shot you a wink, making you laugh and shake your head. 

But then your eyes fell on the spot on his neck where you’d bitten him. He’d healed so fast, you couldn’t see any trace of your teeth anymore, and you brushed your fingers over it sadly. Steve caught your hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to each of your fingertips.

“There’s a special method to tattooing a demon,” Steve answered your unasked question, skimming his free hand down his chest and over all the other ink on his skin. “I can teach you how,” he offered.

Your eyes had drifted down to his chest, tracing the lines of the tattoos that had been hidden by his shirt, but at his words, you glanced up—and were surprised to see the darkness had receded from his eyes, leaving them a bright, sky blue. The look he was giving you was earnest, and you felt it reflected in the bond that hummed in your body.

“I’d like that,” you said softly, ducking your head into the crook of his neck and licking the spot you wanted to mark. 

He still tasted like fire and salt and smoke and you wanted to savor him for an eon. With a sigh, you gave into the urge, licking and kissing him idly while you cuddled into his chest. Steve held you securely, your body still impaled on his half-hard cock while his cum dripped out of you, and you thought you could stay like that forever. 

Instead, after a few moments, you asked, “So what happens now? Do you take me back to hell or the underworld or whatever?”

A chuckle rumbled in Steve’s chest. The sound reverberated through your sternum where you were pressed together and you smiled into his neck.

“I figured we’d stick around Brooklyn for a couple decades, then we can head down below,” he murmured, tracing patterns on your lower back with one hand while the other gripped your ass possessively. “I think you’ll like it there—I’ve got all kinds of fun toys to play with.”

You could hear the depraved excitement in his tone and snorted a laugh. But then something occurred to you and you pushed up from his chest to sit back so you could see Steve’s face. He looked confused by your suddenly serious expression.

“When you say toys, you don’t mean other people you’ve bound to you, do you?” you asked him with your eyes narrowed. Your focus was almost entirely on the bond, waiting for his reaction. You knew you’d be able to tell if he was lying, or hiding something.

But you felt only amusement from him, and watched as a grin spread across his face. “Nah,” he said, his hand wrapping loosely around the front of your throat to pull you in for a kiss. “I’m not actually the demon from the urban legend,” he confessed. “It’s just one of the ways we trick pretty little humans like you to sell your souls to us—you really should’ve read the fine print of that contract you signed.”

You huffed an exasperated laugh, because what else could you do, and kissed your demon again. He chuckled into your kiss before deepening it, his mouth sliding possessively against yours. When he pulled away, he nipped your lower lip, soothing the sting away with his tongue as he growled into your mouth. 

“You’re the only soul for me, sweet girl.”

Your heart beat harder in your chest, and you felt his deep affection swirling with your own in your belly, twining together around your heart to create something real and deep. It was something that would grow and strengthen over the millennia you spent together.

You knew in that moment that there would be no running from the demon you’d unknowingly bound yourself to, and that you wouldn’t want to escape him anyway. Steve may have tricked you—and you’d make him grovel for your forgiveness for at least a century for that—but he was yours now, just as surely as you were his. 

“You’re the only demon for me, Steve Rogers.” 

You moaned for your demon when his hands grabbed your hips and began bouncing you on his hardened cock. His cum was still leaking out of your cunt, making a mess of both of you, but neither of you cared. Your kisses turned messy with your grunts and groans of pleasure, your bodies pushing each other toward the edge of another release as you gave in to the insatiable need you both felt for the other.

It would be a long time before that need was finally sated—so long that it was no longer Friday the 13th by the time you stumbled out of Hell, Steve’s heavy arm draped around your waist. His strong body kept you upright on unsteady knees while he walked you to his brownstone around the corner.

For years after that fateful Friday the 13th, you helped Steve keep up appearances as a tattoo artist, playing his devoted girlfriend during the day. Then at night, he took you home and made you his personal plaything, bending you over and fucking your ass with his fat demon cock or unloading his cum down your throat. 

In the rare moments when you weren’t fucking, Steve taught you how to tattoo, and the method of how to tattoo a demon specifically, all so you could leave your mark on his skin. You tattooed an outline of your teeth marks on his neck, in the spot he’d left open for you since the night you’d met.

You’d even included a drop of your blood in the ink, even though Steve said it wouldn’t strengthen the bond. But afterward, you did feel like you were close to him, and he admitted he felt it, too. 

Years later, Steve surprised you by asking you to marry him, and though you thought it was a little unnecessary, you said yes. It just seemed a bit like overkill to have a whole wedding ceremony when your souls were already bonded for eternity, but you had to admit it was a good time. Plus, all your friends and family cried happy tears—even the demons. 

Finally, when it began to get suspicious that you and Steve weren’t aging while the humans around you were, Steve passed on ownership of Hell to one of the other artists and he took you down below to the real thing. He carried you across the threshold of his house and welcomed you home, where you’d live happily together until you decided to go topside again.

There in hell, Steve spent centuries shattering you apart with his cock before rebuilding you, only to break you down into his dumb little fucktoy all over again. Together, you used every toy Steve owned. You were your master’s good little plaything while he delivered pain and pleasure that sent you to new planes of existence. 

Then, of course, Steve taught you how to use them all on him, too, because your demon master liked a little bit of pain, too.

You’d loved your time in Brooklyn with Steve Rogers, the tattoo artist and owner of Hell, but you loved your time in hell with your demon master even more. Together, you allowed yourselves to be truly free and give in to your darkness together. You allowed yourself to love him, and let him love you in return. 

It was everything you could have dreamed of, living a happy life for the rest of eternity with your demon in hell.

And all you had to do was follow one rule: When in hell, do as the demons do.

[rinhaler]

just had the crazy thought in the middle of trader joes🫣 bf!ino begging reader to let sukuna fuck her infront of him😵‍💫 i just know sukuna would agree to the idea so fast😭

but anyways i hope you're doing alright❤️

as soon as I read this request I went feral btw I haven't written anything this quickly in a while KGHJFLSGHSKA thank you so much for this nonnie I hope u enjoy and I hope ur doing well 💕

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), cucking, cuck!ino, coercion, dry humping, male masturbation, daddy!kink, oral m+f receiving, head pushing, fingering, calls your pussy 'she', overstimulation, vaginal sex, hair pulling, creampie, squirting.

words: 3.9k

He’s waiting.

He’s been waiting since he got to your apartment.

You and Takuma have never been coy around each other, no matter who’s around. What was meant to be a chill movie night with a few drinks and some weed has really just been you and him making out on the couch, dizzied by the alcohol and drugs coursing through your system.

And still, Sukuna has been waiting.

Waiting for his friend to ask what he’s been waiting to ask.

“I love you…” you whisper, or at least you think you do. It’s louder than intended. What was meant to be breathy love language reserved solely for your partner has garnered Sukuna’s attention, too.

And rather than your boyfriend returning your words. He looks at you, no, through you. His pink haired friend looks at him coldly out of the corner of his eye.

Waiting.

You’re bold, though. When he doesn’t speak right away, you grab his face and pinch his cheeks until his lips are puckering. His warm brown eyes gaze down at you, his concentration fully broken from Sukuna, now.

“I said: I love you, Takuma.” you repeat.

“Baby…” he grins and bites his lip before kissing you softly. “You know I love you too.” he assures you, his head lowering to kiss along your jawline. You can’t repress the gentle moan you emit as you feel his hand travel up your baggy t-shirt and hold your side just below your breast, his thumb stroking across your ribs.

“How much?” you wonder, eyes heavy and bloodshot as you wait for a response. He looks at you again, a little puzzled that you’d even ask.

“How much?” he quirks his brow. “How much do you love me, baby? Tell me… Wanna hear ya,” he smirks.

“More than anything… I’d do anything for you, Takuma. I love you s’much.” you say slowly, pridefully. Adoration interspersed with your casual tone makes his cock throb. His eyes are full as he hears you tell him with ease how much you love him.

Before he can say anything, though, Ino’s eyes stray at the sound of his friend stirring in his spot on the couch. He’s hunched over, lighter in one hand and spliff in the other. He lights it, almost too quickly, and he’s soon leaning back again. His red eyes stare daggers at Ino, his expression is unreadable, but Ino knows the intent behind his glare.

He's waiting, but he’s losing patience.

“Maybe we should go to bed early.” you hint to your boyfriend, wiggling your eyebrows at him in hopes he’ll understand your meaning.

He does.

But instead of looking excited, or interested, he looks between you and your friend. Sukuna exhales a hearty plume of smoke into the air, resting the crown of his head back onto the couch as he stares at the ceiling. The movie is of no interest to any of you, now. You want some alone time with Takuma, and Sukuna is considering leaving.

“W-Wait,” he mutters, cupping your face with both hands and searching your loving gaze. “Anything, really? You mean it?”

“… Well… yeah. I- I guess, yeah. Is something wrong?” you wonder, worry and paranoia flooding through you before you know it. You can feel your heart beginning to beat faster, until his thumbs gently rub against your cheeks. You’re instantly soothed, and further relaxed when you feel a gentle press of your boyfriend’s lips against your own.

“No, baby, nothin’. You’re perfect. You’re always so perfect f’me…” he says, kindly, and you can’t stop the cheesy grin that works its way across your face when you hear him. You lean in to kiss him again, but he pulls away suddenly. “There’s… something… I wanna do. Well, I wanna try.” he explains.

You sit up a little as you look at him, curiosity filling you. You briefly look at Sukuna, almost forgetting he's there until you hear him toss his lighter onto the coffee table.

“If you wanna fuck tonight. Maybe we can try it now…” he starts, sheepishly. His words become dry in his throat and lost in the atmosphere. You’re a little embarrassed that he’s proposing something about your sex life in front of your mutual friend, but you try and ignore his presence. You’re all high, it doesn’t really matter.

“What is it, baby?” you whisper. You close the distance between the two of you, kissing his cheek repeatedly as you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s a passionate bid to give him the confidence he needs to tell you what’s on his mind.

There’s no delicate way for him to ask you what he wants to ask. It’s so perverse, so lewd and debauched. He feels guilty for even thinking it. But it’s rotting his brain.

He keeps breathing, his words dissipating on his tongue as he finds and loses the ability to say what’s he’s dying to say.

“C’mon, baby… you can tell me.” you smile. You start to get nervous again as you can tell he’s wrestling with his thoughts. You have no idea what he could be thinking. It’s a worry, though, thinking your boyfriend has some depraved kink he’s about to spill in front of you as well as his friend.

Why is he doing this now?

“I um… fuck. I— babe, I just. I think it would be… f-fun. Uhhhh…”

“Ask her already.” a dark growl reverberates through your body as you’re once again reminded you aren’t alone. Sukuna stands to his feet, bending down to stub out his joint before he moves behind you. You gasp as you feel his fingers on your jaw forcing your head in place as he keeps your eyes on Takuma’s. “Look at your girl and ask her your dirty favour, pussy.”

Ino gulps, eyes flitting between yours and his. And still, even now, he can’t bring himself to ask. Sukuna gives him time. Plenty of time, before ultimately scoffing. You whimper a little as your head jerks to face him. His hand squeezes your face, not to dissimilarly to what you had done to Takuma moments prior. Your lips puckering as he levels his face with your own.

“He has a weird fetish, princess. He wants to see another man fuck the love of his life. Ain’t that strange?” he smirks, darkly.

You think you’ve misheard him. He lets go of your face and you snap your gaze to see Ino. He’s blushing furiously and has seemingly lost the ability to speak. He can barely even look at you. And that is enough proof, but still.

“Really?” you ask, you try your best to stay calm. It’s a little stern, but casual enough to not seem like a big deal.

“… Y-Yeah. AGH!” he yells as your hand slaps across his face, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. He looks at you, he seemed ready to yell at you until he sees tears welling in your eyes. “B-Baby? Don’t… Don’t hate me, please. I—”

“You— did you invite him here tonight for this? You told him before me… How—”

“Wait, wait. It wasn’t like that!” he stops you. “We were just, ugh, what was it? Oh, porn! We were talking about different categories and I said I’d been watching some, y’know, cuck shit. S’dumb, I’m so sorry. But I just watched it because I was curious and then I started thinking about it everyday and I thought about us trying it ‘n I just said all that shit to him when I was stoned.”

“So?” you respond. “You invited him over ‘n got me drunk and high ‘n thought I’d just say yes?!”

“No. Well… maybe… a little…” he says, voice trailing off as he thinks about the whole thing a little further. “Shit, I was scared to ask. Because it’s fucking weird and I know it’s weird. I feel like a fucking freak for this, baby. What kinda guy wants to see another dude fuck his girl? It’s weird.”

You don’t speak again for a while, letting him simmer in what he’s saying. It’s not that you are outwardly against it, but you’re not intoxicated enough to ignore how wrongly he went about this. And it’s hard to ignore Sukuna’s looming figure beside you, he’s so intimidating without even trying.

“… Please don’t hate me.” he mumbles as he stares down at his feet. “It’s been driving me crazy, y’know. Thinking about how hot you’d look like that.”

“It’s your decision.” Sukuna says, dropping to the balls of his feet to look at you again. “It’s just sex, sweetheart. I can make you feel good, ‘n you’ll make me feel good. And I think it’ll make that perverted boyfriend of yours feel good, too.”

You look into his eyes as he speaks. It’s not like you’ve never thought of it before. He’s a giant, he’s huge and he has the aura of a man who knows how to fuck. You aren’t dissatisfied in your sex life with Takuma in the least. But everyone has fantasies, right? Everyone has thoughts on what they might be missing out on.

“B-Baby? Please. Just once, I just wanna try it once.” Takuma tells you. It’s a little pathetic how desperate he sounds. And for some twisted reason, it turns you on. How he’s begging to see you receive pleasure at the hands of another man.

You’ve somehow managed to romanticise this depravity. Because now, you feel good about this. Whether intentional or not, Takuma Ino has made you feel like a goddess.

And so, dumbly, you find yourself nodding. His eyes light up, confusion, elation, and unadulterated lust flows through him. You’re caught off guard as Sukuna cups your face with one hand, capturing your lips in a searing kiss before grabbing under the bend of your knee and letting it roam up the back of your thigh.

“N-Now?!” you ask in a panic, breaking the kiss before he returns it once more.

“Yes. Now.” Sukuna tells you, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to the couch he had been sitting on. You’re straddling him, rolling your hips unashamedly as he smirks into your kiss. “You’re soaked, princess.” he says. It’s quiet, but loud enough for Ino to hear.

He palms himself over his sweats as he watches you both, a sultry moan leaves you as you feel rough hands squeeze the fat of your tits over your t-shirt. He tugs at your nipple, licking into your mouth as he pulls away.

“Suck daddy’s cock, baby. Heard you’re a pro.” he grins.

You shuffle off of his lap and between his legs. He goes to undo his belt before you beat him to sit. He interlocks his fingers behind his head as he watches you. He swears if he had blinked he would have missed how quickly you freed his length. Your eyes bulge as it springs out from it’s denim prison and you pull down his jeans and underwear in tandem.

He doesn’t give you any time to marvel at his gargantuan size before he’s lacing his fingers through your hair and guiding his cock to your lips. He’s massive, you feel it as each agonising inch sinks into your mouth and nudges at the back of your throat.

He moans boisterously as you struggle to accommodate him, head rolling back as he looks up at the ceiling above. He chuckles, pushing your head again and again to set a pace for himself, barely considering your lung capacity or pleasure in the least.

His eyes are heavy, lust drunk and purposeful as he looks down at you. Your own are watery and pathetic. You’re overwhelmed and yet you can’t help but chase a desperate desire to please him. You want to impress him, you want him to feel good.

You’re both reminded of your actual boyfriend’s presence when he moans pathetically. Your teeth graze Sukuna’s cock and he hisses at the sensation.

“Focus on me.” he tells you, voice gravelly and intimidating before his eyes move to look at Ino. “Are you really getting off on this? Fucking pervert. Your girlfriend’s choking on my cock and you look like you’re gonna blow your load. Y’think that’s normal?”

“S-Shut up.” he moans softly, the all too familiar sound of sticky, aroused skin fapping fills the room.

You feel your cunt grow wetter by the second. The intense knowledge of everything going on in the room is sending your self esteem into overdrive. You’re doing it for Takuma. And you want to make Sukuna proud.

“Here…” Sukuna grabs his phone. You panic as you see him point it down at you, unwillingly to let him keep video evidence of this twisted transgression. He holds your head down with ease with his free hand, and it’s all you can do to focus on breathing through your nose. You begin to calm as you feel another phone ring behind you. “Answer.” Sukuna instructs.

Ino scrambles to answer the incoming call, moaning further when he sees the perfect first person view of your mouth stuffed full of his best friend’s dick.

“Give him a show baby, he likes it.” Sukuna growls, cupping the crown of your head as he allows you to bob your head at your own pace. “You really are a good little cocksucker. Might have to keep you. Doesn’t she look pretty, Ino?”

“S-So pretty, baby. Fuck, look at ya…” he breathes, slowing down on his own pleasure so he doesn’t cum too fast.

“Look at her squirming, think she’s enjoying all the attention. Is your little pussy dripping ‘cause you’re our pretty star tonight?” he smirks. And at that, you nod. You can’t help yourself. Despite you being the one to please him, you’re completely at his mercy. “Mmm, think I wanna see for myself.” he tells you, yanking you away from his length by your roots.

You gasp, breathless with an aching jaw as you get used to your mouth being your own again. He coos at you, red eyes softening as he admires your drool soaked face.

“Look at what I’ve done to your girl.” Sukuna says as he manhandles you.

He picks you up and turns you so that you’re able to make eye contact with your boyfriend. Ino looks up from his phone so he can observe you with his own eyes. Your eye makeup has streaked beautifully down your cheeks. Your lips are swollen and dampened with slick drool and precum. He has to stop touching himself completely when he looks into your shimmering eyes. They’re filled with water and emotion, the sight of you is better than he ever imagined.

“Say thank you, sweetheart.” Sukuna commands and he firmly grips your jaw. “Gotta say thank you to your boyfriend for letting you have the time of your life with me.”

“T-Thank you, Takuma… thank you.”

“Aw… you’re both a little pathetic, hm? But that’s okay.” Sukuna snarls as he picks you up again, tossing you onto the couch like you’re nothing. You’re a weightless object for him to do with as he pleases. “Let me see you, princess. I want a taste.” he explains. Soon enough, your panties and shorts disappear from your body and he’s face to face with your bare cunt.

He grabs your hand, forcefully shoving his phone into it so you can show your boyfriend what he’s doing.

It’s humiliating.

Your whole body runs hot as he loops his arms around your thighs and buries his face between your legs. A powerful moan rips through you as he gently pulls up the hood of your clit and targets it with a darted tongue.

Tears spill over your eyes as you try to close your legs, much to his dismay, and he pries them apart with ease. He doesn’t let up, your whole body trembling uncontrollably as he continues his assault.

You hold the phone with one hand as the other cards through his pretty pink locks. And at that, he moans. The timbre of his voice vibrates against your skin.

“B-Baby?” Ino speaks, quietly, “Feel good?”

“Fucking. Amazing.” you announce, unashamedly. Your toes curl as you feel two thick fingers delve into your hot cunt. It’s too much. You feel like you might burst as his fingers curl and you try desperately to escape the onslaught. But one muscular bicep around your thigh is more than enough to keep you exactly where he wants you.

“You’re staying right here, sweetheart.” he tells you casually before looking up at you. “You won’t cum if you run away from me.”

“Hnnnng, fuck.” you respond, embarrassingly. All semblance of thought leaves you in the form of slippery slick pooling out of your cunt as he finger fucks you relentlessly. He smirks as he watches, slurping up your juices with obscene satisfaction.

“Pretty little pussy, she’s flutterin’ for me. Just cum for daddy, know you wanna.” he grins.

You’re barely able to think as he immediately swipes his tongue over your throbbing clit. His fingers work in tandem to hammer against your g-spot before you begin to squirm uncontrollably.

“Fu- nngh! D-Daddy! Haah~!” you cry out repeatedly, chanting a slew of daddy’s before you feel your body start to crumble and fall slack. You pant heavily, the phone you were holding a distant memory as the only thing on Ino’s screen is a shot of the ceiling.

He’s holding back, again. Ogling your body as he sees sweat droplets beading on your skin. Your entire body is relaxed, calm. You’re wholly spent and satisfied for the evening, you do nought but watch Sukuna repeatedly pepper kisses on your inner thighs.

“You look happy,” he tells you as he looks up.

“You’re… you’re good at that…” you say, finally feeling shame wash over you as you realise you just came on your boyfriend’s best friend’s face. “That was—”

“Was? Didn’t say we’re done, baby.” he cuts you off. Before you can ask what he means, he’s pulling you onto the ground with him by your wrist. “I didn’t get to cum yet, did you really think we were through here?”

“S-Shit, sorry!” you gasp, utterly powerless as he bends you over the coffee table. Even if your body wasn’t so relaxed, you’d still be a ragdoll to him.

“He needs to see your face while I ruin this beautiful cunt.” he smirks, parting your legs with his muscular thigh. He tuts as he observes your form, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “What is this, baby? I know no one else has made you cum that hard but you need to look pretty when you have an audience.” he explains.

He pulls your hair aggressively until your back is in a beautiful arch. Your fingers grip desperately onto the sides of the coffee table, your tits squashed against the cool glass breaks your body temperature as you’re unsure of whether you’re freezing cold or boiling hot.

Your body soon flushes again as you feel Sukuna guide his heavy tip to your entrance. He teases your hole repeatedly, the sticky tacking sound is the only thing that can be heard; alongside Ino’s self-pleasure.

He grunts as he slams into you with a powerful thrust. Your eyes cross and you feel as though you could pass out from the pressure brewing in your core.

“Fuuuuuuck, tiny princess cunt’s a tight li’l hugger.” he tells you before holding onto your hips with a bruising grip. Your ass and thighs ripple with each brutal deliverance from his desperate humping.

This, now, isn’t for you. If you feel pleasure, that is a bonus. You feel it in the way he savagely pounds into your wet walls, you are his toy that is designed to make him cum.

“You look so pretty, babe. D-Does it feel good? Y’look so fucked out.” Ino smirks, biting his lip as his fist becomes a blur. “Can you— describe it for me, baby.” he requests.

“Unfff, f-fuck. He’s— I feel— him— here.” you tell him before pointing to your throat. He lets out a guttural moan at that, and if your mind wasn’t already so hazy, you’d be amazed that he was truly getting off on this.

“Glad he’s making you feel s’good, babe. Knew he would…” he trails off. “Are you gonna let him fill you up?” he asks, face dropping a little as he hears a scoff from Sukuna.

“Tch. Sick bastard.” he says in response. He bends over, his sweat coated skin presses into your back and he continues to desperately hump into you like a primal animal. He moves your hair aside as he sensually bites and kisses your earlobe. You could just about cum when you feel him lick the skin behind your ear, tangled with an amalgamation of eager, determined moans. “He wants me to breed you like an animal. Would ya like that, princess? Can daddy fill your precious little pussy up?”

You nod, quickly. Your vision blurry as you think you might be genuinely about to pass out from the pleasure. You’re utterly blinded by it. The feeling of his cock bullying itself into you and repeatedly kissing your sweet spot is like no other feeling you’ve experienced before.

And still, even in your cock drunk mind, you can’t help but wonder how you’ll ever be able to live without feeling him inside of you again.

He pulls your body up with his own, wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing just enough to keep you barely conscious. You’re pointlessly grabbing for anything to grab onto, but there’s nothing. His free hand rubs your clit vigorously, and you know you’re soon to be a goner.

“That’s it, good girl. Good fucking girl, milk daddy’s cock jus’ like that. Juuus’ like that. So tight f’me, mmmpf, so fucking tight for me. Perfect pussy’s not gonna let me go. Gonna cum with me, yeah? Come on, cum on daddy’s cock, make a big mess. Umpf, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

He practically roars, feeling not an ounce of shame as he fucks his thick, heavy load into you. You’re no better, though, whining pathetically as a waterfall gushes from between your legs for the first time in your life. It arouses Ino more than anything ever has in his entire life, so at that, he finally let’s go. Coating his hand in shimmering white globs as he watches Sukuna forcefully make out with you through your high.

Sukuna pulls you back with him as he sits on the couch with you on his lap, pulling out of your hot, sullied cunt as the mixture of clear liquid and pearlescent sperm drips from your throbbing hole. He slaps his cock against your clit, your entire body jolting with each repeated smack.

“Did you— fuck, baby, that was perfect… Did you have fun?” Ino asks, almost breathlessly as he wipes the mess from his hand on his sweatpants.

Sukuna looks up at your near lifeless body, you don’t even have the energy to look at either of them let alone speak. He smirks, at that, before turning his attention to Ino.

“Don’t think she’s ever been fucked so good in her life,” Sukuna grins. “I don’t think you’re gonna have a girlfriend for much longer.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[nouearth]

a sticky situation.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: peter has a major crush on his roommate: you. everything unravels when he walks in on you changing.

wc: 4.1k. genre: smut. warnings: holland!peter, sub!top peter, voyeur!peter, college!au, dry-humping, grinding, frotting, handjobs, kissing, peter's first time, dubcon, cumplay, peter and reader are shooters, characters are aged up!

a bite of the cold air shuddered your damp and nude body once you stepped out of the bathroom, cataloguing the tidiness of your shared bedroom after. your shoulders tensed when the heated air and cold draft clashed for an estate of your body. but by the way your muscles eased into the green towel around your waist, you’ve figured which side won the war. a warm cheer to victory buzzed in your head.

god, did i luck out with peter… 

you found yourself repeating that observation often these days. it’s only been two months into the semester, but you’ve already concluded that peter was leagues better than your previous roommate. though, the bar was low—he was kind of a homophobe. that guy was a walking proof of evidence that opposites, in fact, do not attract.

on the other hand, peter had proven that similar interests and personalities were the foundation of beautiful, growing relationships: both platonically and romantically. still, relationships were never that black and white—a grey area. a theory that will forever be tested on, only for the outcome to come out vaguer than before, you’ve realized.

peter was like you: friendly, smart, awkward at times, funny to some. you and him basically have the same qualities of a dog, but there was more to it. 

you both shared the same liking down to the genre of video games, the magic of fantasy novels, the cleanliness of a room, the color-coded organization of study notes, and more. 

from there, the similar line of characteristics began to blur. whereas you’d prefer to learn from experience, peter liked playing by the book—sticking to it if he could. peter liked red, you liked blue. he favored savory snacks, you devoured them, but preferred sweet drinks.

opposites attract—the theory was once again, broad in your honor.

difference and similarities aside, you were lucky to have peter in your life. the bedroom was colder before you went to shower, but now it blossomed with a gentle heat.

he knew you hated the cold after a warm shower.

taking the other towel, you dried off the rest of your body while you checked your phone for notifications: a missed call from a friend and a few emails regarding construction around the building you had your classes in.

seriously? still? it’s been almost a year already…

normally, you wouldn’t have walked into the bedroom like this, baring skin and all. but peter went to get food because you both have become familiarized with what they served as food at parties.

note to self: you cannot get full off alcoholic beverages. you and peter both tried two parties ago, and it ended with you two sharing the toilet bowl, detoxing your insides of that liquid poison the entire night. the only enjoyment that resulted from that night was learning that peter was a drunk-crier, and you, a drunk-dancer. your friendship had only leveled up since.

you slid on your white briefs once you dried off before shuffling to the other side of the room, browsing through your shared closet aimlessly: he took the left side, you took the right. it was always dim at those parties, so a nice outfit would be wasted. also, you somehow became a magnet for other people’s misfortunes. it took hours to get rid of the smell of this one girl’s vomit—you threw it out in the end. 

“no, no… it’s going to be cold later…” you cycled through your clothes again, sighing when nothing caught your eye. “guess i can wear this aga-“

“hey!” out of nowhere, peter’s voice sprung out from the side of the room, followed by a quiet thud, and you twisted your bare body towards the source out of fright.

“jesus, you scared me.” the closet door blocked your view of peter, and vice versa, but you presumed he was leaning against the frame—a habit you noted. “i didn’t even hear you come back.”

“sorry- what was i saying..? oh!” his shadow loomed between you and him, growing as he stepped closer to the closet. “did you want to eat now or-“

judging from the volume of his voice, you should’ve expected how close peter was when you shut the closet. “fuck!” you jumped back, eyes widening when he was practically chest to chest with you. “dude, you really gotta stop doing that.”

on a daily basis, you always looked up at him, but you never paid it much thought to how much taller he was. 

“sorry! guess everyone’s a little antsy with the- oh.” he paused.

“what?” you curiously looked up at him, catching sight of his wandering gaze. you were quick enough to follow it, flickering between glimpses of your bare body and face several times like a tennis ball. somehow, you didn’t puzzle the pieces between his shock and your curiosity until he backed away, skittish in nature.

you were in your underwear. still in your underwear. the barrier was the captor of your embarrassment, heat rosed your cheeks as you stood frozen. and with it, the barrier was also your savior.

 “oh- OH!” the size of your eyes matched his and upon realizing he’s been staring for far too long, peter cowered his gaze to the side, a gentlemanly hand blocking his sight as he further backed to the door frame, then blindly bumped his shoulder into the door. “i’m so sorry-“ 

“no, no! i should’ve knocked. i-“ he groaned out, pacifying the sting to his shoulder with his palm. “that was stupid of me, i’m gonna-“

that was another similarity that you both valued: privacy. 

before you could reply, he scattered off. for a moment, you felt hot in the face, in the neck, even on your chest. but it would only take a few more seconds for your skin to cool, comforted by the fact that you could’ve shown more—you didn’t.

when peter scrambled out of the room, his gaze fixated on the ground, to the stripes of his socks as they shuffled to the kitchen. 

but he never made it very far, because he was easily persuaded. either by his hormones, by the shape of your body, or by his closeted feelings about you. in the end, it didn’t matter because a tightening feeling conjured him back to his original spot—it was always going to be about you. 

he was silent in his footsteps, treading backwards to the bedroom as his throat ran dry—heartbeat equally.

tonight. i should do it tonight. are my feelings that obvious? god, i hope not. wait, no- they are! they gotta be… who the fuck wipes marshmallow off of your roommate’s lips and calls them cute?!

peter does.

as his thoughts ran rampant, clouded his regularly murky mind, you were in his line of sight, perfectly captured in the middle of his gaze—now stilled—awe-strucked while he watched you change. 

quick portraits of your thick thighs and calves came and went before they were completely masked by the slide of your shorts. then your stomach and chest; pliant, moist skin that layered over the contours of your body before being covered by a tee. he exhaled, then inhaled, smelling the scent of your shampoo and body wash, and he was delighted because you own that scent.

enraptured because only peter could have his senses triggered by you on a daily basis.

if peter could frame this moment, it would be an expensive endeavor that would sacrifice all the money in the world to find the most perfect materials that complemented your textured skin. your smooth body. your handsome face. 

you. that was all he wanted. 

peter had been trapped since the day he saw you unpacking your things into the dorm. sweaty from the sun, and you knew that, because you refused to shake hands with him until you insisted on washing up first. he wished you never did—your thighs looked better sweating under those shorts.

he’s had crushes before. one in middle school, three in high school. but they amounted to nothing, he never had the confidence. rather, he preferred isolating himself and admiring from afar. rejections had already been predicted, and he was used to the feeling of defeat. if someone were to accept his advances one day, then that would lead to a disruption of events—a catastrophic end to humanity—he joked.

you were different to peter. he loved how, for once, he didn’t have to be the one initiating conversation. he also loved how you didn’t use him for answers because instead, you would help him out with his assignments.

oh, is that professor warren’s class? I think i still have the textbook for her class… let me look. 

even when it would only take five minutes to grab a drink down the street, you still invited him. not out of pity like everybody once did, but because he was your friend. parties have never been your thing, but you accompanied them with him because it made him feel better—to know someone.

maybe since he’s grown more mature since then, but now that he was off on his own, it was up to him to predict his future. it was an advice you gave him one night, and he’s kept that close to his heart since then.  not the hate that had inflicted his mind, not his peers telling he wasn’t good enough for someone—but him.  

in his imaginary world, peter could feel the walls shake when he was around you. the buildings would then fall apart, the earth would scorch civilians and planetary life with heat, and the thundering rain would only make it worse. it was a morbid image. yet, if it meant that you truly liked him, then…

aliens, come do your thing. we insist upon an invasion!

peter wanted you. point, blank, period. it wasn’t his preferred way to confess, but intense sentiments of like, love, lust—all at the same time—ate him up on the inside, and he was scared of being devoid of feelings for you.

“i want… you,” peter muttered, and you jolted again, turning back around in case you misheard him. you were bewildered at the sight of him. once again, you didn’t hear his footsteps.

“what?” you shuffled nervously on your feet. the tension in the air was thick and hot now with the way he stared back at you, frightened yet assured.

“i want you.” there was credence in peter’s tone, and he neared to the door now. 

your eyes narrowed into the deep abyss of peter’s eyes as you sat on the foot of your bed, putting on socks. somewhere in your endeavors, you found a flicker of that familiar joke. “ha. ha. very funny,” you muttered bitterly.

it haunted you. as soon as you came out, you were taunted by those same exact words by your ‘friends,’ by your previous roommate. what made you different from them became a simple reason to cease empathy and kindness, and you were baffled that this was happening again.

maybe peter was like the others after all.

you avoided peter’s gaze in favor of the floor, the legs of your desk, your rug—anywhere but him—and you could feel the color drain out of your face, out of this room—deja vu. “look, i know it’s funny to you because i like guys and for whatever reason, straight guys like to flirt with gay men to get a reaction out of us,” 

the rug cushioned the weight of a familiar pair of feet, and you looked up, a great frown etched in your face when your eyes met peter’s. he towered over you, bewildered. “but it makes me uncomfortable. and it’s not funny to-“

he didn’t know what roused him. the pain in your voice made him want to apologize without any resort to excuses. the pout on your lips made him want to cradle your head, yet kiss you at the same time. the growing tent in his pants made him want to pin you to your bed, and simply ravish you.

it was all a blur. 

his impulsive thoughts became a reality once he stole the remaining words left in your distress, and clumsily swallowed them with a kiss. you didn’t have time to process his lips on yours because you were then pushed onto your back, stilted and surprised, as peter applied his weight on top of yours—his broader build shadowed you in welfare.

“pete-“ you groaned into the hot, breathy kiss, and despite the light attempts to push him away, you were compelled to return the wet exchange. breathlessly, you repeated, “stop, this isn’t funny-“ he kissed you again. all this time, you could’ve had him, but you deluded yourself into thinking otherwise. 

“i’m not laughing,” peter muttered, and his hips began moving into yours, aimlessly trying to alleviate the stiffness in his pants. “i want you.” his voice lowered—no longer a confession, but a demand. he rocked into you harder once he felt you throb under those tight short, and you slipped out a moan, memorizing the beat of peter that pulsated against you.

you remembered him being bashful when you two talked about your firsts. you weren’t completely inexperienced like he was, but you mentioned that it’s been a while since you’ve done anything remotely intimate. school was your focus, a relationship was your reward.

“peter,” you repeated again, he wasn’t listening. “peter.” he whispered a demand; to keep calling his name, and you couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the cliché line often heard in soft porn.

then, you cupped your hands around his temples to pull him away. he gazed into you with ardent hunger, almost annoyed that you ruined the trail of kisses he began leaving on your neck. “did you drink without me? because if you did, then i don’t think we should-“

“i didn’t,” he sobered on the softness of your lips, and like a flip switch, he snapped out of his fictional world of you. “fuck- i’m so sorry, i didn’t even ask you if you wanted to- fuck, i even forgot to say that i like you.” he ranted to himself, beginning to pull himself away. “this was not how it was supposed to go.”

infatuation had expanded into something beyond your control, and your feelings for him ignited even more. a wick bursted into powerful flames, and it warmed your body knowing that you two shared the same sentiment.

before he completely peeled himself off your body, you pulled him down by the neck, then pressed your nose to his, grinning. “I like you too.” a peck to the tip of his nose, then the center of his lips. your onslaught of fleeting kisses to his skin drowned him, pacifying every muscle in his body until it became jelly, and also making it all the more easier to roll him under you. 

“not exactly how i imagined my first date with you, but,” you straddled his lap, roaming your hands around peter’s chest, an asset of his you’ve frequently daydreamed about. “you sure?”

the applied pressures to your waist, then bottom should’ve been a definite measure of his answer, but he smiled up at you, guiding a steady pace of your hips to his groin. he was easily distracted, suddenly cascading his other palm up your shirt then down to finally feel the bare skin he had spent long showers jerking off to. fantasies had now been served onto a platter before him, and peter planned on devouring you, piece by piece. “please.”

“must have had a lot on your mind if you couldn’t even confess to me.” it was unusual to see him like this—absolutely enthralled by your presence, high off of it. aching for more of you with the way he pushed his groin into you. “how long have you been thinking about this?” being unusual always had negative connotations to it. 

you pressed into him harder, rubbing at his print with gallant grinds. not in this moment. 

he moaned, “far too long…” then fumbled with the waistband of your shorts before doing the same with the zipper. “you’ve been driving me crazy, especially these days.” it was a simple task, a daily labor that peter was great at, but his hands shook when his finger met metal. you chuckled, and placed a comforting hand to his cheek, stroking the soft skin with the amplest caress. 

take your time. i’m not going anywhere.

“mind sharing what you thought about then?” the only time you peel yourself away from peter’s groin was to help him slide your shorts off, then his jeans. peter lifted his hips, and you two were joined together again. aching together. “just curious.” you joked by pulsating your bulge, and he shyly laughed when he saw the restrictive twitch. 

felt it.

“well... where do i start?” peter’s warm hand rested on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your erection while delicately exploring your soft skin. “there’s been so many times where i just wanted to…” he was too ashamed to finish his sentence, looking away.

“wanted to…?” your body arced over his, placing a persuading kiss to his cheek, then neck. “what was it?” they lingered, sunk deep into his skin with the utmost affection, and he left the deepest, pleasurable sighs as if you withdrew it from him. you commenced his dilemma. “tell me what you thought when you first saw me. saw that i was your roommate.”

 “i...” peter began, and you could tell his nerves got the best of him, so you rocked into him again, begged with your hips. the position made it easier to feel all of him, press into his warmth more, and you couldn’t stop. wouldn’t. “i didn’t know what to feel. i was happy, that i had someone as kind as you…” you gleefully hummed, agreeing as you continued leaving kisses to his neck.

“then i was nervous, because you were so… cute. handsome. beautiful.” he moaned when you began to grind in slow, deep strides. your bulges squeezed and pushed one another, peter did the same, growing impossibly bigger against you. “but when i saw you in those shorts, sweating because move-in day was always on a hot day…”

“yeah?” you beckoned him to finish his sentence because you were closing your eyes now, remembering that very moment because you felt the same. the way peter’s chest, his muscles, were broad and stunning under his own layer of sweat, under his loose shirt, under that naivety that you would never have dreamed to think of him as such a…

“i just wanted to fuck you.”

pervert.

the shy smile he gave you messed with your perception of him. clearly, you’ve underestimated him all this time, and you kissed him again. “so, you only thought about pleasuring yourself.”

he quickly broke the kiss to defend himself. “wait, no! t-that’s not what i meant.”

“peter, relax.” your laugh calmly settled into a comforting smile, and you blindly reached down to his thick print, feeling and squeezing at whatever you can because you were desperate to explore him. “i’m joking.” his chest rose.

for the remainder of time, you spent it stroking peter through his underwear. dryly to his frustration, but he never told you because he wanted to experience you in every way. his lips never left yours, only parted to moan into your mouth when you shoved your hand into his briefs to sate your desire to feel him bare.

peter was big in your small hand. the weight felt suffocating to your palm when you grabbed ahold of his sack, fondling his balls, then stroking his cock again, and you were intoxicated in the way he melted under you, looked into you, begged for you to go faster. 

you did. who wouldn’t when he gazed at you with the most puppy-like eyes?

he had complete control of you now, because every action, every stroke, from then on had been a journey to his personal paradise. you didn’t care that you were left abandoned, that you were aching harder than he was. watching him was more than adequate.

both pairs of briefs and shirts have been tossed to the side now, and you maintained your straddle. it was riveting to watch how much bigger peter was when you took both of your cocks together and stroked. he practically enveloped you with the weight of his length, the girth of his shaft, and you wallowed in the fact that he was incredibly bashful about it. 

peter’s hand never left your body. he charmed you by his neediness. it was clumsy in execution, but he always squeezed a moan out of you with he felt your ass, your chest, your nipples, your thighs. “fuck, pete.”

everything about you was beautiful, incredibly more so when you caved into him as he dealt kisses to your bare skin and took his own turn at jerking the both of you off.

he was eager. delirious. hard, stiffening hard, against you, and you felt every vein pulsate the harder— the faster—he squeezed and stroked. you leaned back, hands planted to the mattress beneath you, then maneuvered your hips to the rhythm of his fist. you found a pace while peter kept you steady, and fucked into his fist, against his wet cock, sliming your dripping pre-cum together with the utmost fervor. 

“wait, (m/n),” he hiccuped, and his hold on you tightened, nails dug into your left waist but you ignored his plea, fucking steadily into his fist. “stop, i’m going to-“ they fell on deaf ears, and mouth agape, peter watched you with incredulity. you can feel his body flex, your balls smushed to his when you grinned up, your pre-cum sticking to his, his to yours, like a sick web. “s-stop, oh god.”

and peter unraveled before you with a guttural moan, finishing the rest of his plea with a blasting of thick and creamy ropes to his chest, like a cannon. the force was strong enough to have a few shots land on his face, then his hair, and then somewhere above because peter was a big shooter—a strong one, you’d passionately testify. “f-fuck, i didn’t mean to cum so-“

“holy shit.” you watched peter in all his glory, then in his embarrassment, while stilted on his lap and sweating, not taking notice of the delay of your climax because it crept up on you quick. a rocket broke the cloud in your thoughts with a boom, and you spilled all over him, shooting like fireworks. “shit!”

peter was your canvas, and it was your duty to paint him. debris of sex splattered everywhere, because you somehow found the strength to continue fucking yourself into the cream of fist, unloading and unloading onto him until you were dry, heaving and dripping.  

“fuck- I didn’t mean to ruin your sheets-” he mumbled, a blush stained his cheeks, and you joined in the warmth with a kiss, panting.

“where’s the fun in all of this if you aren’t going to stain at least one thing.” your brows raised at the wet stain on the wall above peter’s head, right below your wall-shelf, and peter’s gazed followed. 

he groaned, distressed by the evident he made. “fuck, sorry…” his bashfulness only endeared you even more. 

“it’s okay,” you hopped off his lap, stretching your arms into the air. “i’ll clean you up.”

“okay,” peter lay still, his hand cautiously held over his stomach to catch the drips of his cum and yours. it was fascinating to watch the mixture flow together, strands of it melding and un-webbing as he played with the sticky residue. it was the scientist in him. “my towel is on the- fuck-“

without a beat, you took his dripping flaccid cock into your mouth, sucking off any remnants of spunk. an unfamiliar taste you weren’t used to, bitter and salty. it wasn’t until you noticed how peter’s eyes glazed over you, half-lidded because he was in heaven now, that you found the taste of him delectable. peter’s caution for staining your bed sheets was disregarded, because he knew you’d clean the rest of him off. 

after you pulled away with a soft pop, he traced your wet lips with the cum on his fingers, then his knuckles, before he pushed one by one into your mouth. one finger at first, then two, then three, you moaned erotically around his digits as peter pumped, marveling in the eagerness of your mouth. he slowly pushed more cum into your mouth. the creamy residue gathered at the corner of your mouth at first but he made sure to scoop it back in, and continued doing so until he was polished clean. 

nothing was wasted. 

the taste of you and him spread in the warmth of your tongue, and you have never felt more intoxicated.

to peter, you have never looked more beautiful.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[xtcenh]

Too good

Pairing: Step Brother!Park Sunghoon x Reader

Description: Maybe the both of you are perverts but still, that doesn’t stop either of you.

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, dry humping, begging, biting(?, dubcon, vouyerism, masturbation, unprotected sex, spanking, idk what else ngl.

The relationship between you and Sunghoon it’s…weird, to say the least, both of you met when your dad decided to marry his mother and that was seven years ago, both of you being angsty teens that barely talked to each other.

Years went by and the relationship between the two of you grew for the better, both of you being an only child, you grew fond of his company and him of yours, always thinking of places to go together, meeting the other’s friends, getting along very well.

One day though something shifted, it was one of those days that both of you told your parents that you were going to a sleepover but went to a party, entering you guy’s twenties, both wanted to go out and make out with some hot people, get wasted, take pics with your friends but something happened that changed your whole dynamic.

You can see the room spinning, barely being able to stand straight, you were laughing by yourself at how drunk you were, your friend Karina next to you noticed this, holding your arm to stop you from falling.

“Shit, girl, you’re drunk as fuck!”

The look on her face only made you giggle, grabbing her cheeks and squishing them, she couldn't help but laugh at your state, taking the cup from your hand she muttered something about getting you some water so you have to wait for her in your seat.

Looking around your eyes set on a specific sight, your step-brother, you don’t know if it was the alcohol rushing through your veins but there were unacceptable thoughts about him in your mind, shaking your head as if that is going to make you stop thinking all kinds of stuff with him.

Your breath hitches when you take notice of the girl he is talking to, small, curvy, red head, she was beautiful, no way of denying that. There’s this uncomfortable feeling in your chest, hurting you, still you don��t know what it is.

Not knowing how much time has passed, you see them both walking out the room, you don’t even know what possessed you when your legs stand up, walking down their trail.

Still very much wasted, it’s a complicated task when you follow them, almost falling several times and almost losing them as well.

Your body freezes when you see hee lead the way into a room, far away from the other people, noticing how you are the only person besides them in this hallway, what you failed to notice is how Sunghoon did see you, when you were staring at him before they even came this way, how rapidly you stood up and followed them and how you are looking at him right now.

He doesn’t know but the feeling of you following him is more exciting than the girl that is pulling him inside the room, one last look at your face and he steps inside.

He doesn’t close the door, slightly leaving it ajar, what he does is immediately turns the girl so that her back is facing the door.

Sunghoon lets her start kissing his neck, sliding her hands down his abdomen, he doesn’t feel anything, all he wants is for you to peek your head through the door.

Not even thinking, you do just that, peeping enough of your head to see what was happening in there.

You don’t expect to see Sunghoon staring back at you, waiting. Once the eye contact locks, he grabs the back of the girl's neck and pulls her closer to him, kissing her. What the girl didn’t notice is that Sunghoon’s eyes never left yours.

The girl pushes him so he falls into the bed, sitting on the edge.

You can hear the wet sounds of their lips moving together, you can only imagine how his lips will feel against yours, wanting nothing more than going inside and moving her aside.

She goes back to kissing his neck, slowly going down and down, finally settling in between his legs, he is manspreading on the bed, barely looking at the girl in front of her.

Your eyes move down, noticing the hands of the girl, they’re moving, working to take his pants off, nervously your vision moves back to his face, noticing the smirk on his lips, at a slow pace he brings his fingers to his lips, motioning for you to keep silent.

Right hand falls on top of your mouth, so as to prevent any sound.

Both of you are ignorant on how the girl has already taken off his pants and is already taking his hardening length out, a low groan coming out of Sunghoon’s throat is what brings you back to the scene playing in front of you.

Sunghoon’s eyes close briefly when she takes him down her throat, stroking with her hands what couldn’t fit on her mouth. He can’t deny that it feels good but it feels ten times better when he notices that your thighs are squeezing each other, showing that you are in fact, getting turned on by what is happening in front of you.

A quick glance at the one in between his legs and he just mutters something to her.

“Close your eyes.”

Without questioning, she does as she is told, Sunghoon is glad she listened, now he can turn his full attention to you, his little step-sister, rubbing her thighs together at the sight of him getting his dick sucked by some girl.

He choked a moan when you moved your free hand to grasp one of your breasts, squeezing it tightly, how he wished it were his hand in your chest. Everything just got harder for him when he picked out that your fingers are moving, twisting and pinching your nipple, throwing his head backwards, he pushed the girl farther down her throat without warning.

The choking sound makes your knees buckle, imagining it was you taking him down your mouth, his face comes back, eye contact continuing. Just when he thought he was in heaven at the sight of you, you dropped your hand, moving it under your skirt, placing it on top of your cunt.

Hips thrust into the girl’s mouth, your fingers circled your clitoris and you can feel your arousal through the fabric of your underwear, it grows when you hear Sunghoon’s moans and low groans.

It’s wrong, you both know it’s wrong, but you have never felt this hot for anyone before and you know he is also enjoying this, the way his hips stutter into the girls mouth while he looks at you like he wants to eat you, it has you throwing your morals out of the window.

Fingers going faster, you feel so close to cumming. He can’t tear his eyes off of you, loving the way you still have your mouth covered by your hand, how he can see your hand moving under the little skirt you have on, how your knees are almost giving up at how much pleasure you feel, he loves it, loves how you look.

He nods his head, as in asking you if you’re close, you nod rapidly, neck even hurting with how fast you do it, and you see it, he mouthed something for you, clearly seeing how his lips moved to tell you, ‘Cum for me’, not being able to contain it, you let go, cumming all over your fingers, eyes rolling backwards, grabbing into the wall next to you to not fall.

Chest breathing heavily, you look back at him, his forehead full with sweat, one hand on the back of the girl’s head and the other one behind his head, smirking widely at you.

“F-Fuck, cumming!”

And you swear it’s the hottest thing you have ever seen, one last thrust in her mouth, her coughing around him, and he is spilling out his seed on her mouth, eyes threatening to close but fighting it to keep contact with you, mouth making an ‘o’ with how intense his climax feels, one last groan and he lets the girl free.

You see her move, standing up to crawl over to his lap and it suddenly hits you, you need to leave, not even waiting to see what happens, you hurriedly tidy up yourself and run towards the closest bathroom.

Closing the door behind you, you put your back against it, sliding down to fall on the ground. You did not only just touch yourself at the sight of your step-brother getting a blowjob but you did in fact enjoy it.

Two weeks have passed since the incident happened and you still can’t talk to him, even looking at him is hard for you, so you have just been ignoring him, ignoring him at home, at the campus, his texts, calls, everything.

It’s still too fresh in your memory, too fresh, that it gets you to soiled your panties when you remember. You think, if only watching him felt this good, what would it feel like if you can actually experience it, but no, you can’t, that is wrong.

Too caught in your own bubble, you fail to notice that he won’t give up, he is just waiting for the perfect opportunity to get you, to have his hands all over you and to not let go and the day is coming closer than expected.

It was one night that you decided to sleep over at your friends house, not being able to breathe comfortably in your own home, you were about to walk out of your room when someone steps in, pushing back in.

“Wha-”

A large hand covers your mouth, stopping you. Eyes widened when you recognize him, Sunghoon is the one stopping you from going out. He is mad, you know he is, the look on his face, eyebrows frowning, eyes giving you a harsh look.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Taking off his hand but now moving down to your neck, circle around it but not pressing down, just holding you so you look at him and don’t try to run away anymore.

“I-I’m no-”

“I’m not stupid Y/N.”

“Hoon…”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

He asks once again like he doesn’t know, the reason is obvious but both of you know that you guys want more and he seems to be wanting to get it. You try to move away from him but his grip on your throat hardens, gasping in surprise.

“Answer me.”

“Hoon! I-It was wrong.”

“But you liked it.”

“S-Still, that shouldn’t have h-happened.”

It’s like he didn’t hear your answer, instead he pushed in to kiss you, lips against yours with need, struggling for air when he does. He kisses you with force, forcing his tongue inside your mouth, exploring the walls of it, sucking on your own tongue and then biting down on your lips.

Your hands try to push him away but his strength is much stronger than you, barely even moving him. He only stops to gather air, not pulling too far from you, he grabs both your wrists in one hand and brings the other one to squeeze you cheeks together.

“We both want this, don’t fight it.”

You know you want it, you also know it is wrong. Barely putting on a fight when he kisses you again, he notices this and drops his hand from your face down to your chest, groping your tit with force, back arching into his touch.

Without complications he moves your body so that you sit down on your desk, he places himself in between your legs, spreading them open.

“Sunghoon-”

“Shhh.”

Leaning closer, he locks his lips into your neck, biting it and kissing it, leaving marks and wet kisses all over it, you whine when you feel him making a hickey on it, knowing it’s a visible place and if someone notices it, you will have no explanation.

“Hoon!”

Frustration is clearly on his face, when he looks at you, waiting for you to talk, clearly annoyed that you interrupted him, you huffed in perplexion, not believing him, one more push at his chest and you say.

“T-That’s enough…”

“…No, it isn’t, I want you.”

Your eyes widen even more when you feel his hips rolling, in surprise you open your mouth because of the feeling, his hard on, grinding against your core. Blushing you bring your hands to push him once more but you fail, he grabs both your hands and brings them to his chest, trapping them.

His hips never stop, grinding harder against you. You choke when you feel his fingers thrust into your mouth, long and slim they hit past your tonsils, nonetheless you wrap your tongue around them, sucking on them subconsciously.

“F-Fuck…I thought you didn’t wanted this.”

Quickly you shake your head, not sure what exactly you are saying no to. He lets go of your body, hurriedly directing his hands towards his belt, taking it off. Your body shaking at his early ministrations, you only observe him, almost as if you’re waiting for his next step.

Once the belt is fully out, he returns his attention to you, admiring your spread body waiting for him, he moves you into your feet and in a flash he turns you around, grabbing your arms behind your back and tying the belt around both your wrists, your head flies back, panicking.

“W-Wait, no-”

One hand pushes your chest into the desk, bending over for him, not even being able to stop him and deep down, you don’t want to. He tugs your shorts down, revealing your soaked underwear, his hand kneads at the flesh of your butt prior to slapping the same skin, not expecting the smack you whine out but he only chuckles.

Doing it again and again until he hears your cries, telling him to stop, feeling a bit generous he soothes down your reddening skin, shushing you down.

“You don’t like it when I spank you? Hmm?”

“N-No…”

“You sure? Your wet panties say otherwise.”

In cue you feel his fingers tease the entrance of your hole through the panties, moving his fingers in circles, you try to take a hold of his hand but he only slaps them away, telling you in a low voice.

“You’re going to enjoy this, relax baby sis.”

Gagging your cries when he calls you that name, he pushes the fabric between your legs to the side, you can hear him hiss when he looks directly at your pussy, feeling shy you try to close your legs but a harsh spank on your thighs makes you cease your movements.

You feel him part for a second, you hear shuffles behind you and then something drops. With your current positions, it is hard to turn around but you catch a glimpse and you see that Sunghoon has taken off his jeans, leaving him only in boxers. You didn’t mean to stare yet your eyes move downwards, scared when you notice how big his bulge looks, not remembering clearly from that night how big it is.

He presses back on you, his hard dick directly pressed against your hole, both of you moaning at the feeling, his hips thrust in, making your body shift forward into the desk. Sunghoon doesn’t stop, he never does, humping and rubbing all over your core, each thrust you swear it feels harder and deeper than the last one, making a pool in between your legs and all over Sunghoon’s boxers, leaving a wet patch.

“Hoonie, p-please, this isn’t right!”

“It wasn’t right when you played with your pussy at the sight of your step bro getting sucked by someone else, right? But you didn’t stop.”

Hips still moving, sharp and forceful thrust being delivered by him. You feel extremely embarrassed, still you feel the arousal drop from the entrance of your hole, the burn that the fabric of his underwear gives you every time he grinds into you has you feeling undeniably good.

Your face feels hot, sweat dripping down your forehead, eyes watering, threatening to spill tears.

Sunghoon feels feral, hips grinding upwards into rubbing himself against your folds, he feels extremely sensitive, the harsh fabric of his boxers getting wet with your juices and his pre-cum, making a mess. His mouth falls open, letting out a groan, he had dreamed about this, about you, the sensation of your body pressed like this against him is better than everything that he had wished for, he feels in ecstasy.

He can already feel his climas coming closer and closer with each hip movement, he leans over to come closer to your nape, lips caressing your skin, you can feel his hot breath and the back of your neck, sending shudders over your skin, leaving a wet trail on your skin he reaches your ear and whispers.

“Y-You love this, don’t you? We both do, baby, let’s just enjoy it.”

He yanks you to meet your back with his chest, wrapping his forearm around your neck, keeping you in place. Sunghoon stops his thrust for a second to pull his length out of the last layer of clothes. A loud whine leaves your lips when you feel him directly, his tip pressed straight into your clitoris, his free hand proceeds to smear his semen all over it, making it all sticky.

Teasing you a bit more, just making you lose your mind you give up and just beg for him.

“P-Please…!”

“Hmm? What was that baby?”

“Please, just put it in…”

Turning your head around, the stretch of the muscles in your neck hurting but soon forgotten when he connects your lips to his, once more, distracting you from when he pushes his dick inside of you. Gasping into the kiss when he bottoms into you, tip caressing your cervix.

Barely even being able to correspond to his lips at his size.

“F-Fuck, you! So big!”

Sunghoon just chuckles, fucking into you harder, deeper, desperate for release. He knew you would feel this good, waiting for you for years, no other girl could even compare to your looks, and after finally getting a taste of you? He is never going to let you go. The girl at the party, he used her just so that you would finally cave, sending her off somewhere after you left the show, closing the door when she left so he could finally release himself, fucking his hand at the thought of how you looked while touching yourself to him, cumming hard wishing he was cumming deep into your pussy.

Now he can do it, fulfill his wish.

Every ram of his hips has you shoving into the desk, nails digging into your palms, wrists hurting from the restriction. Your head drops lowers, mouth instinctively biting into Sunghoon’s arm, preventing loud moans slipping your lips. The sinking of your teeth has Sunghoon hissing in pain, hips stuttering unexpectedly, dick twitching with pleasure.

“Next time, you’ll bite my neck sissy.”

Just whining into his skin, knowing that if you let go you will scream at how harsh his hips move into you, mind not processing how he said next time. His relentless pounding just gets more and more strong when he feels close to cum, fingertips teasing your swollen clit, forcing a loud noise out of you, biting deeper into him.

“If you want to cum, you have to ask me for permission baby.”

Your eyelids scrunch in frustration, the whole situation has you feeling embarrassed and needy, with how dumb he is fucking you, you really don’t longed care. Detaching your mouth, you turn to look at him, eyes looking up at him, he looks like a mess, sweat dripping down his skin, eyebrows frowing, his lips covered in bites from when he tries to drown out the noise.

“Please…can I?”

“C-Can you what?”

“Can I cum, please? Hoonie?”

Maybe both of you are crazy, being so into this, the nickname that you have always called him feels so dirty in this situation, just makes him twitch inside you, thrust erratic and going in no pace, just trying to get you both to cum, fingers faster, biting down your neck.

Your body trembles, your walls clench around him, head throws backwards directly falling into his shoulder. He lets go of your neck, mouth hanging open, breathing hard, one last ram into you, balls hitting your clit, and you both cum, his thick ropes spilling right into your womb and your juices dripping around him.

Sunghoon thrusts lazily, extending the delicious feeling of release for both of you. He stays inside, waiting for both of you to recover.

Wincing when he slips out, the white ropes dripping down your legs. He frees your arms, turning you around to sit down on him on your chair, he brings your wrist to his lips, kissing gently the red marks, so gently that it almost makes you forget what just happened.

Your eyelids are slowly closing, feeling tired and sore all over, the last thing you remember is him telling to sleep, that he would clean you all up before you doze off on his lap.

Once you wake up you would worry about the consequences.

[zhenne]

watching from afar | route one : a confrontation

[ intro ]

syn. perhaps it’s time Sylus gives you irrefutable proof of his intentions, and to show you he’s more dependable than that doctor friend of yours thinks.

wc. 3.5k

warnings. smut!! (mdni), i’m gonna just say dubcon bc yea, probably ooc, rough start (i don’t like it tbh), jealousy!, mentions of alcohol, car sex, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, kitten, baby), cowgirl, clothed sex, bit of dry humping, fingering, making out, sylus comes on your stomach/thighs, he’s a lil nasty (as a treat), teensy bit of begging, face & throat holding (no choking), marking

a/n. ngl i feel like this is pretty rushed, but idk man

now playing : all mine

“I’ll be back soon, have fun.” 

With one final measuring glance at the doctor, Sylus left you in Zayne’s care.

Zayne was a pleasant companion for the remainder of the evening. His dry humor and effortless wit kept your voice breathless with hushed fits of laughter. You were nursing your fourth drink of the evening when you notice Zayne’s relaxed posture shift as an undeniable presence calmly stepped behind you.

Cheerful, and a little tipsy, you turn on your barstool to face Sylus. With warm, rosy cheeks, you beam up at him, ready to explain the comical story Zayne had just finished, “Oh! Sylus, Sylus- you won’t believe-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your fun, but we’re leaving, Sweetheart.” His firm tone cuts you off. 

You sit up a little bit straighter, brows pinched together, “Did the meeting not go well?”

Sylus’ eyes narrow, looking right past you as they land on the man sat a little too close to you for his liking. Crimson irises flick back to you, studying your slightly flushed appearance. “We can talk in the car.”

Immediately, you knew what that decisive, low utterance dispatched. He was pissed. Seething.

Sliding off your chair, you turn to give Zayne a small bow, smiling as you thank him, “Your company was refreshing, thank you for treating me with your presence.”

—-

The walk to the car was painfully silent. Any tipsy glee you had earlier was gone, replaced by a sobering disquiet. You kept your hands clasped tightly in front of you as you followed just behind Sylus’ striding gait, your own heeled feet barely able to keep up. Your lips were pressed into a thin line. Sylus’ aura radiated quiet fury and your mind careened with thoughts of what must’ve happened during his meeting. 

Did the other man not show up? Maybe he sent a representative Sylus had a previous resentment with? Or did the deal fall through, perhaps? Is it likely that the terms didn’t go in Sylus’ favor-

You’re pulled from your thoughts by your face colliding with a solid wall of muscle. You swallow. The black suit jacket on Sylus’ back obscures your vision, the musk of his cologne invading your senses. He turns to face you, angling his head so that it tilted in a manner that could only be described as penetrative. You wait for him to say something, anything that could hint at the cause of his calloused mood. You get nothing of the sort as he opens the passenger door for you.

To your surprise, he doesn’t slam it after you climb into the seat. If anything, he’s unnervingly silent. There’s something controlled, measured about this anger. And that finding only serves to confound you even more.

You wait until the car is speeding down the freeway to try your luck again. “Wha-”

“Did you have fun?” For an innocent question to be asked in such a forbidding tone, a chill tickles your nape. 

Your fingers nervously pinch the material of your dress, rolling the silk between the pads of your fingertips. Was he upset you didn’t go to the meeting with him? “You know I’m more of a hindrance than a help in those sort of mee-”

“That’s not what I’m asking. Did you have fun with your friend?”

Oh. A piece of this intricate puzzle clicks into your brain. Oh. “You’re jealous.” You don’t even realize you whispered your discovery aloud. 

Sylus chuckles, though it’s void of his usual mirth. “And what was it you introduced me as?...” His eyes narrowed in thought as the car merged onto the road that would take you back to the lawless city of perpetual darkness. “Your colleague, wasn’t it?” You don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then, in a moment of brazen stupidity, you mutter, “Is there a problem with my terminology?” Your own challenge, albeit your voice came out far too hesitant to be properly deemed a threat.

The way he looks at you, every ounce of his stare cold and measured, reminded you of your first meeting – reminded you that there was more than one side to the enigma that is the leader of Onychinus. Instantly, you feel regret weighing heavy on your tongue. You want to backpedal, try again at defending yourself.

You don’t get the chance to scramble together some poor excuse before he’s steering the car into the underground garage of a vacant lot. The transmission shifts into parked and the keys are pulled from the ignition as you and Sylus sit in the silent cab of the car, your eyes searching his side profile. The silence is stifling.

“Are you going to talk to me, or just sulk?” You finally murmur with a growing irritation. 

Sylus’ head falls back against the headrest. Finally, his gaze slides to you, the corners of his lips twitch with a frown, and you feel the edges of your frustration slowly ebb away. 

“What did you two discuss during my absence?”

“Hm? Nothing, really..” You hesitate. Sure, Zayne may have asked how you met the enigma that is Sylus, and you may have given a few glossed-over fabrications. And yeah, maybe your childhood friend revealed in passing that perhaps Sylus may not be the best influence, but that would constitute ‘nothing’, right? 

Sylus is nothing if not perceptive. He picks up on your hesitation clear as day. “What did he say?” His voice finds its usual timbre, a gravelly rumble that stirred something within you.

You were backed into a corner, tongue tied as Sylus’ situated his elbow atop the console, his face leaning into your space with acute attention. “Tell me, kitten,” … “Is this ‘Doctor Zayne’ of yours really just your doctor? Because I saw a hint of something that wanted to tell me otherwise.”

Your face warms at the insinuation in Sylus’ perceptive eyes, caught off guard by the sudden accusation. “I.. I mean, we grew up together, but- but it’s not- he wouldn’t-” you take a steadying breath, a futile attempt to quell your rapid heart rate. “Me and Zayne? I-It just doesn’t make any sense-”

“Oh no, I see it – the appeal,” he reaffirms, “he is handsome, well-established, smart.. And seems to care an awful lot..” he trails off, his smirk only growing as your brows pinch together at the open-ended insinuation. 

“But he never has time for you, does he? Dedication to one’s work means less attention to those that really matter.” You’re silent, face hot as you hold your breath, Sylus’ smirk only growing when he sees you ensnared in his provoking web. “You should call me when your ‘friend’ is too occupied to make time for you. I can at least promise not to leave such a pretty girl disappointed.” 

The air in the car feels stifling as you gape up at Sylus, his eyes now shining with a dark gleam. His hand slips into your space, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek before his palm cradles your jaw, forcing you to hold his gaze as he angles his face a breath away from yours. 

Finally, you manage to choke out a whispered retort. “Zayne.. Zayne doesn’t see me like that. He’s just a friend-”

“Just a friend?” He rolls his eyes at your empty logic. “Oh, please.” He practically hums. “He’s so obvious. You’re telling me you didn’t see the way he admired you tonight? Didn’t notice how his eyes practically undressed you, how his hands twitched with the desire to lay claim?” His voice drops an octave, the low rumble of his chest purely seductive as he murmurs, “How he wishes it was his bedroom floor your dress falls to?” You watch with a pulsing heart as Sylus’ eyes flit to your slightly parted lips, the corners of his mouth twitching into a proud smirk at your undoubtedly flustered expression. “I also saw the way those same eyes glared at me, resenting me for taking the one thing he wanted most.”

There’s a self-imposed reticence. You’re frozen in your seat.

“Nothing to say?” He blinks down at you when you fail to form a coherent thought, the cockiness in his tone only making you dizzier. “Perhaps you wanted that too?”

At that, you’re able to manage a weak shake of your head, and it only makes Sylus’ wicked grin grow. “Tell me this at least, are we really just ‘colleagues’ in your eyes?”

You lick your lips, head spinning when you finally let out a shaky breath. “I-.. We…” You feel as though surges of energy are rippling beneath your skin, setting your nerves alight and subsequently frying any semblance of intelligible logic. 

A calloused thumb trails down your jaw before gently grasping your chin, forcing your face up so your lips just barely brushed against his as he whispers, “Just know, regardless of what you say, I’ll still fuck you.” 

Swelling heat thrummed through your veins, catching in your breath and erupting in your stomach. Your thighs squeeze together with a rush of embarrassment as you feel a slick pool of heat stain the thin material of your panties, no doubt soaking through to the seat below. 

Zayne’s words from earlier ring in your deluded mind as Sylus slips a warm hand atop your thigh. ‘Please, be careful with who you trust’, the doctor had muttered in his stoic voice, ‘I wouldn’t want someone corrupting Linkon’s favorite Hunter’. 

You can already picture Zayne’s disappointment, but Sylus tastes like expensive whiskey and tobacco.

It’s possessive, the way Sylus kisses you, like he was afraid you’d slip away should his hands leave you. You shift in your seat as his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. A breathy groan has your cunt fluttering around nothing as he licks his tongue into your mouth, the hand on your jaw cupping your cheek to hold you still. Neither of you shy away as it grows messier, needier. And it’s unbearably hot, the way he grips your thigh, pushing the skirt of your dress up to bunch around your hips. He doesn’t pause the assault on your lips as his fingers tentatively brush over your soaked panties, the thin material made sheer as it clings to your folds. 

Sylus breaks the kiss, chest softly heaving as he looks down at you, his eyes glazed with raw desire. He lets out a low growl, accompanied by the slick click of his fingertip teasing your arousal. "God, Sweetheart..." He murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

Without warning, he’s pulling you over the console, your knees bracketing his hips. His hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your breast and the dip of your waist before settling on your thighs, spreading them apart to grant himself full access to your cunt.

"Let's see how responsive you are to a real man's touch." He teases, grinding his cock into your slick folds through his slacks. 

Your hand grips his shoulder, desperate for something to stabilize you as the rough material of his pants brush agonizingly perfect against your throbbing clit. “F-Fuck..” you whimper as your other hand gathers your dress, giving both you and Sylus unobstructed view of the lewd performance. It felt sinfully good, as pathetic as it might sound, to be dry humping your (so-called) friend in his car like a couple of horny teenagers. 

This position offered you a front row seat to the debauched expression coloring Sylus’ usually smug face, a sight that only served to fuel your growing desire. He must've felt your peering eyes on him, because not even a moment later, a hand holds your throat, pulling you down for another hungry kiss. This one had no preamble, only a primal mesh of heat and tongue. You whine when he pulls away in favor of trailing searing kisses down the side of your neck, teeth occasionally nipping at the skin before he sucks a mark in the junction of your shoulder. 

You grind your hips downard, circling the hardening bulge in his pants with a breathy gasp, your hand tracing down the muscled panes of his stomach. Eyes roll back into your head when Sylus bucks up into your heat with a chuckle. He parts from your neck, his lips shining with spit as he takes in your disheveled appearance. 

“Would you rather it be your doctor friend making you feel like this?” 

A challenge? A jealous provocation? You aren’t quite sure what fuels it, but you’re unabashed as you whimper, “No.. No.”

Sylus wets his lips, the palm on your throat now holding your face millimeters from his, “Who do you want to fuck you? Whose cock do you want to stretch out your little cunt right now?”

You can barely look at him straight with the way those filthy words slipped so effortlessly from his mouth. “Y-You..” you choke out. “Want your cock, Sy..”

Your eyes blink shut, missing the smug grin that graced Sylus’ reddening features. You're about to drag your hips along the seam of his slacks again when a firm hold on your hips halts you halfway. You’re panting, watching with a lidded gaze as he pulls his cock, red and leaking from his pants. Your mouth nearly waters at the sight of the vein running down the twitching length. 

Your hand begins to reach out, but a larger one gently smacks it away. You find his crimson eyes, your pulse echoing loudly in your ears as the hands on your hips angle you slightly. Your shoulder blades rest against the top of the steering wheel, your back arched, and hands gripping whatever purchase they could find as you finally felt the heat of his dick brush against you.

He barely lifts a finger before a thin wisp of red and inky mist swirl at his touch, shredding through your panties without so much as a sound. You glance down just in time to witness as the ruined garment falls from your body, a mess of your arousal clinging to the maroon material as a string of iridescent slick stretched and snapped. 

It was pornographic, the way Sylus groaned at the sight. “I haven’t even touched you yet..” Your eyes glaze over as two fingers tease your dripping slit, the wet clicking sounds only fueling his exploration. “Fuck..” a husky moaned followed as he slipped the two fingers into your warm, welcoming heat. “F-uck… darling,” he experimentally strokes his fingertips, quickly brushing against the spot that has you panting his name with choked breaths. “Ah..” he breathes out, “There it is..”

His fingertips continue to stroke with a rhythmic press of his palm against your clit. You felt so hot, so unbearably turned on it was starting to hurt. “Please- oh please, Sy- Sylus, please, oh fuck-” you felt like your chest was on fire, burning you from the inside out. 

“Come on my fingers,” he growls against your lips, nose brushing against yours, “show me you pretty you look, let me see how badly you want my cock.” Finally, he brings his thumb to stroke tight circles against your clit.

Your body tenses, muscles taut as your nails threaten to leave crescent scars along his arm. Your head falls back with a wanton moan, thighs trembling as you coat his hand and lap with a pool of your release. You feel dazed, your body still humming with the aftershocks of euphoria he so easily led you to. 

Sylus was far from done with you yet. His leaking red cock stood hard and ready, hot against the wet skin of your thigh. He pulls you in by the column of your throat, planting a languid kiss to your lips, his pace slow and intent on enjoying the feeling of you pliant to his touch. “I’m going to ruin you.”

You barely hear it, let alone hardly make out his muttered promise. It doesn’t click until he breathes out against your swollen lips, his eyes piercing straight through you, “I’m going to show them you already have a lover.” 

Your lashes flutter as his grip tightens, sliding the leaking head of his cock through your dripping folds, just barely teasing your entrance as you whine his name, your own hips stuttering in his hold. Only when he finally – finally – has his fill of teasing you, of seeing you whimpering and clawing at his shoulder with quiet pleas of ‘more, please Sy, fuck me’, does he actually start fucking you like you’ve been craving.

“Fuck.. so fuckin’ tight, baby..” he groans as his thick dick slowly breaches you, the blunt head just barely making it through your tight ring of muscle before you’re keening with a loud, obscene whine. “Relax, kitten,” he drawls out, though he isn’t faring much better. 

You’re little cunt is sucking him in like a vice, and it takes every sliver of self control not to fuck up into your tight heat. His jaw ticks as he peers up at you perched on his lap, quivering and moaning from just the tip of his cock. 

Sylus leans up slightly, catching the breathy gasp that slips from you at the minor shift in angle. Warm lips spur more harmonies to spill from you as he kisses any section of skin he could see. The corner of your mouth, your cheek, jaw, neck and shoulder would all be littered with balmy breaths as he leaves marks sure to linger for days. You feel yourself relax into his hold, eyes threatening to fall shut as he haltingly bottoms out.

Fully sheathed inside your pulsing cunt, you both groan as you search for his lips, mutually swallowing the sounds of unadulterated pleasure when a strong pair of hands gently lift your hips a fraction, testing the waters before they drop you back down, your hips flush with his naval. You’re giddy with bliss, whimpering as your puffy clit drags along his happy trail in a way that has stars bursting in your vision.

“Shit-” you whine, feeling the curve of his cock press deeper into you with each thrust. Your head falls back, nearly resting atop the steering wheel, but Sylus is intent on watching you fall apart. His hand holds your jaw, thumb and finger squishing your cheeks slightly as your glazed eyes meet his, something primal and hungry swirling deep within the crimson depths. 

“Eyes on me, baby.”

You’re close. And you can tell he is too with the way his breathing is growing erratic, his neck flushing a pretty pink to match the tips of his ears. Your eyes flutter, a heavy fever settling in your stomach. The squelching noises become louder, more erotic the hotter this fever becomes, surely soaking into the seat below his lap. Your kiss bitten lips gape in an attempt to warn of your approaching climax, but you can scarcely hold back the choked moans as Sylus shushes you, his grip pulling you closer to his face as he grinds his hips into yours.

You come with a hoarse whine, your hands and thighs trembling as he continues to drag your orgasmic haze out for a few more seconds before you feel him pull out, making quick work with his hand as his cock paints your cunt and thighs a pretty sheen of white. 

You stare down at the mess, a filthy mixture of your own release and his lazily dripping down your skin. He lifts his hips slightly, tucking himself back into his slacks before his hands smooth down the bunched skirt of your dress. Panting softly, you try to steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder. You’re about to climb off his lap to crawl out of the car, but he tsks, holding you still with a hand on your waist. 

Your questioning protest stops short once you see Sylus examining your dress with a scrutinizing frown. His free hand holds up a stretch of the garment, and you can make out the faint blotches of stains darkening the material. He studies the blemished spot with an appraising hum.

“Perhaps I should have you wear this at the next event… That should satiate your friend’s interest, no?”

You swat a hand at his chest, blushing and indignant at the teasing lilt in his voice. If you knew anything about Sylus, his mirth always held some fraction of truth, and the mere thought of wearing a dress sullied with come made your skin crawl.

“You’re disgusting!-”

Sylus catches your wrist before your balled fist could make contact with his chest again, a gleam in his eyes that exudes pure satisfaction. “And you’re mine for the rest of the evening… any objections?”

[st4rfckerz]

2:37 am | stepbro!anakin x reader (pt. 1)

word count: 2.5k

warnings: MDNI 18+, dubcon, stepcest, dry humping, slight aftercare, dead dove do not eat.

summary: during a sleepless night, your stepbrother, anakin comes to your aid.

a/n: this is inspired by a video i saw on twitter AND a dream i had, so i just had to write about it.

pt. 2 here

you never expected your father to remarry after your parents' divorce. but much to your surprise, your father did just that. not only did he remarry, but he also brought a new family into your life - a stepbrother named anakin.

you quickly learned that anakin had a troubled past. he's always got some new story about a friend getting arrested, an incident involving drugs or something else. despite his antics, you couldn't help but find him attractive, his messy hair, constant teasing, and his intense gaze all got you feeling hot under the collar. but you knew he was off-limits as he was your stepbrother, and your feelings for him were something you tried hard to suppress.

it was another sleepless night. you were reading a book in bed, trying to get your mind off the fact that sleeping is just not something your body wants to do. you were wide awake.

you set the book down and looked at the clock that stayed on your nightstand.

2:37 am.

you let out a heavy sigh, then you set the book down and leaned back in your bed, trying your best to focus back on the book. but, as always, your mind was elsewhere.

your thoughts were abruptly interrupted as you heard a few light knocks at your bedroom door.

"who else could be awake this late?" you thought to yourself. after placing your book on your bed, you went to open the door. you slowly open it and raise your head to see anakin.

"you're still up." anakin says in a whisper, his voice quiet and deep. the faint glow of your lamp's warm light illuminated his face, displaying a small grin pulling at his lips. anakin crosses his arms and leans against your doorframe.

"couldn't sleep," you respond softly, trying to keep your voice quiet. "what about you?" you try not to feel intimated as anakin's eyes carefully scanned yours. although his body was slumped slightly against the wall, he still appeared to be towering over you.

"couldn't sleep either, can i come in?" he asks. you stepped to the side, out of his way, and watched as he walked slowly into your room. anakin glanced around your room as you silently closed your door. his gaze lands on the book lying on your bed.

"catcher and the rye?" anakin asked curiously. smirk on his face and his eyebrow raised. he flips through a few pages before taking a seat on the side of your bed.

"i've read about five chapters tonight," you sigh, taking a seat next to him. "still not tired."

anakin snickered quietly before sitting down next to you. he gave you a look that was difficult to interpret until he spoke again.

"it's your little boyfriend again, isn't it?" anakin said as he shifted in his seat. it was as if he was trying to find a more comfortable position to be in. his knee accidentally knocked yours, making your body tense up slightly. he knew exactly what he was doing.

"yeah," you huff defeatedly. "there's just been a lack of communication i guess." you look down at your fingers that rest on your lap, avoiding anakin's lingering gaze.

you often complained to anakin about your boyfriend and how you felt he was treating you unfairly. anakin didn't like your boyfriend and he would often tease you, hinting at how he felt about him. anakin secretly wished that he could have your attention instead.

a small chuckle erupts from anakin's throat. "he doesn't fuck you." he says bluntly. you quickly snap your head up, your wide eyes meeting his. your silence speaks volumes, your attempt to find words faltering before they even leave your lips. the room fills with a charged tension as your face turns hot and pink, a flush of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks.

"maybe." you reply quietly as you look back down at your lap. as embarrassing as it was, you knew anakin wasn't wrong. your boyfriend never made you cum. ever.

anakin knew immediately what he was doing to you. in fact, anakin knew exactly what was really going on in your mind and it was a bit too obvious. he could tell you were sexually frustrated by the way you always avoided his intense eye contact and how you blushed nearly everytime he'd speak to you.

"when was the last time you came?" anakin asks. he drops his head down lower, you could feel his breath on your neck as he spoke.

"i-i don't know." you stutter. your heart begins to race as anakin interrogated you. anakin's eyes moved up and down your body. he saw how nervous you were starting to get and he liked it.

"poor girl, must be really frustrating, hm?" his lips come even closer to your ear, so close that they're almost brushing against your skin. "i can fix that..." he whispers.

"anakin, what are you talking about?" you lean your body away from his.

anakin saw that you tried to lean away but he stopped you. with a firmer grip, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him. he lowered his lips to your ear again and spoke.

"you know what i'm talking about, and you know exactly what i can help you with." he purred with a sly smile. "i've seen the way you look at me." you feel his hand slowly traveled towards your exposed thighs.

"anakin sto-" anakin was relentless. you tried to push him away and he fought back. anakin's hand tightened on the side of your face, gripping your chin with force. his lips pressed firmly against yours. your mind went blank and for a moment and you felt a certain excitement building up inside you, despite the fact that you felt guilty about what you were doing. you tried to think of your boyfriend and how this would only make things worse, but those thoughts slowly faded away. you wanted this.

anakin's firm hold on your jaw started to relax as his lips devoured yours. as the kiss continued, his arm that was tightly wrapped around your waist was released and his hand traveled towards your thigh once again, his fingers gently rubbing the skin.

"just let me help." anakin spoke in a slightly deeper, more enticing tone than before. you felt his warm breath on your skin as he softly kissed down your neck, his tongue slowly making its way up your neck. his hand moved to your hair, gently rubbing the back of your head as you felt his fingers slowly creep towards your inner thigh. your veins are filled with an increased level of arousal, and you can feel it pooling in your panties.

the sound of your heart pumping and adrenaline coursing through your body overwhelmed your thoughts. the need to become as close to anakin as possible overtook everything else.

anakin brought you both higher up on your bed and you lay on top of him, his hands wrapping around your arms as he pulled you closer. his lips tasted so sweet and as soon as your tongues met, you felt a rush of sensations, like never before. your breath was taken and your heart pounded in your chest. he moaned softly and you felt him grasp at your hips, pulling you closer to him.

anakin's hands slowly slide down your waist. with a firm and assertive touch, he begins to skillfully remove your shorts, his fingers deftly unfastening the garment and sliding it down your legs.

the sensation of cool air against your exposed skin only intensifies the heat that envelopes them. the tingling anticipation courses through your veins as you remain seated on anakin's lap, your kiss unbroken.

anakin's touch is both possessive and tender, his hands trailing up your legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

he pulls away from the kiss before speaking again, "lift yourself up." he said in a soft and low voice, a slight smile forming on his face. you did as he asked and he quickly removed his black, plaid pajama pants. anakin's boxer-clad erection protruded against the fabric, stealing your attention.

"eyes up here, angel." he teases with a knowing smile playing on his lips. anakin's gaze held yours captive, his dark eyes filled with an irrepressible hunger. he pulls you back over towards him, his body against yours.

as you settle back down against anakin's bulge, a soft, involuntary moan escapes your lips.  the sensation of his throbbing length pressing against your drooling cunt sends a jolt of arousal through your body, a sweet ache of desire stirs your senses.

a smug grin dances upon anakin's lips as he observes your reaction, relishing in the control he holds over you.

"just follow me." he whispers. you had no words to say and did as he instructed. you nodded your head to let him know that you heard and understood him. with a firm but gentle touch, anakin's hands find their way to the small of your back, guiding your movements and synchronizing your rhythm. a low, throaty moan escapes his lips.

"fuck." anakin breathes out.

with each rut of your hips, the pleasure builds, your bodies moving in sync. the friction between you and anakin heightens the sensations pulsing through your bodies. a wet patch grows on your panties, a clear sign of your arousal.

anakin's eyes beam with amusement as he grazes his fingertips along the damp fabric.

"god, look at that," he purrs. his touch is feather-light, tracing the outline of the wet patch, sending shivers of anticipation through your body. "you're killing me." anakin lulls his head back against your headboard, catching his bottom lip in between his teeth. his eyes were glued to the way your hot pussy rocked so deliciously against his throbbing cock.

your head hangs low, and your breaths become shallow and little whimpers escape your parted lips.

"feel good?" anakin asks. you nod your head in response. "use your words baby." his words send a spark of electricity down to your core.

"y-yes, feels s'good ani." you pant. anakin groans quietly when he hears you refer to him by his nickname.

"that's my girl." he coos. with a sudden flick of his wrist, anakin lifts up your small shirt, exposing your breasts to him. anakin's lips latch onto one of your exposed nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. he alternates between gentle sucks and flicks of his tongue, coaxing the sweetest moans from your lips. simultaneously, his free hand palms the other breast, squeezing and massaging it with a firm grip. your back arches instinctively, pushing your chest further into his mouth as you drown in the sensations he evokes.

"ani, i'm close," you whimper as you feel that long forgotten coil begin to form in the pit of your stomach.

anakin removes his big hand from your nipple and returns it to the fat of your thigh. your bodies move in sync, the rhythm building with a fervent need. anakin's grip on your thighs remain unyielding, his strength displaying the control he holds over the both of you.

"let it go angel, cum for me." anakin mewls. you could tell he was close to his own orgasm by the way his stomach repeatedly flexed under your hands.

the knot in your stomach finally snaps, releasing a wave of pleasure that courses through your body. a loud, unrestrained moan escapes your lips, but before the sound can fully escape into the air, anakin's hand swiftly clamps across your mouth, muffling the sound.

"shhh, we don't need anyone hearing us." anakin whispers. as the sound is stifled, anakin's own release crashes over him. his body tenses, muscles contracting as he spills his seed into his boxers.

"s-shit," a string of filthy whimpers escape anakin's lips. you take in deep, ragged breaths, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure.

anakin gently brushes a strand of your sweaty hair away from your forehead, his touch tender and reassuring. he can feel the rapid rise and fall of your chest as you breathe heavily, your body slowly coming down from the intensity of your shared orgasm. anakin's arms instinctively tighten around your waist as you rest your forehead against his shoulder.

"you feel better?" anakin's voice, quiet and breathy, breaks through the silence that envelops the room.

"so much better." you respond with a light chuckle. anakin gently tugs you away from his shoulder. his eyes locking onto the dampness spreading across your underwear. the sight of the wet spot elicits a mischievous smirk from his lips.

"yeah i can tell." he jokes. his fingers trail along the edges of the wet patch, the fabric damp and clinging to your sensitive skin.

"here, let me help you with these." after easing you off of him and onto your feet, anakin sits on the side of the bed. he helps you take off your stained panties, his touch gentle and considerate, his fingers sliding under the fabric to ease it down.

anakin's gaze lingers for a moment, taking in the sight of your glistening folds. with a shaking breath, he quickly turns around, his heart pounding as he retrieves his pajama pants. facing away from you, he slips them back on, his movements slightly hurried as he tries to regain his composure. anakin's pants hang loosely on his hips, the fabric draping casually over his slender frame.

you change into clean underwear and pull on your discarded shorts that resided on the ground. the soft fabric glides against your skin, providing a gentle caress that contrasts with the electric tension that still lingers in the air.

as you turn back around, you see anakin holding your soaked underwear in his hands. you felt embarrassed and awkward at this moment yet anakin's face was filled with a slight smile.

"i'll put these in the laundry room for you." he smiles as he makes his way towards you. a wave of comfort sweeps over you as anakin pulls the cozy comforter over your body after you climb into bed. you feel safe in anakin's presence, his protective nature always made your chest feel fuzzy.

leaning down, anakin's lips press against your forehead. the weight of his lips against your skin sends a jolt of warmth through your body, a sweet sensation that lingers even after his touch is gone.

"thank you, ani." your voice was soft, and almost innocent, considering what had just occurred in your room. anakin turns on his heel, making his way towards the door. the sight of his retreating figure stirs a whirlwind of emotions within you.

anakin steps into the hallway, he glances back, his eyes meeting yours displaying a glint of affection.

"sleep well sis." anakin smiles and closes the door behind him, leaving you snuggled comfortably in your bed.

he locked the door after leaving you to sleep and walked straight into his room, not even taking a look at the laundry room.

as you fell asleep, you wondered how this would affect your relationship and you hoped that anakin wouldn't tell anyone. you thought back on the event, still flushed with guilt, yet something about it felt different. something felt good about it, despite its wrong-ness.

[ilycosy]

subby season one rafe has my heart omg please share ur thoughts on the cokehead when he's high lmao

subby rafe is my fav type of rafe !!! i wna take care of him n mother him sm 😕

warnings: rafe is high (technically dubcon) , mommy kink n issues , dry humping !!

you both knew this wasn't okay in any way, other than personality differences and the fact that you're his dealers best friend— you're a pogue. rafe couldn't think of anything worse that he could be attracted to, but whenever he's in need of a fix he finds himself at your doorstep.

you hadn't really meant for this to become a thing, but rafe was cute. he was still baby faced and jittery every time you brushed him, pouting his pretty lips whenever you told him no more.

he hadn't come for a fix this time, rather showing up already high. his pupils dilated, and his brain moving faster than his mouth could speak. he barely got out the word 'mommy' before his lips were on yours. it hadn't been the first time you and rafe had slept together (don't tell his friends), but it's definitely the first that he's been so.. needy.

his slick lips had moved from yours down to your neck, shoving you through the door as you tried to grasp what was even going on. your hands found their way to his hips before you fully registered that they were even moving, pushing him back.

when you pushed him back, you could see the traces of his coke under his nose. his breathing was heavy, his hands trying to paw at you and bring you closer. whimpering for you, pleading that you pay attention to him.

you ignore the ache in your heart and focus on the ache between your legs, pulling him closer so you can properly kiss him. your hands run up his shirt, teasing his cold clammy skin.

he pushes back, trying to get your hands on him more. "fuck," he whines, his voice throaty and high. "please, mommy." you can hear your heart beating in your ears as he pleads, bringing your hands up to his chest manually.

your fingers find his nipples, just to tease him, not expecting to pull a whine from his throat so easily. his voice raising in volume as he tries to pull away when you pinch them, "fucking– stop!" he grunts, not like that'll stop you.

your hands slip out from under his shirt to rest on his throat, his dilated pupils hazily looking at you as he easily lets you push him to your broken couch. he can feel something sharp digging into his back but he doesn't mention it, not when you climb onto his lap.

"rafe," you tease, dragging your nails from his neck down his chest, resting at his v-line. "i always knew you were just looking for attention."

he thinks he rolls his eyes, whether he actually did is unknown to him. he doesn't argue with you, half because you're right and half because he's liking everything you do. a certain weight is lifted off him when your weight comes down on him, grinding onto the bulge in his shorts.

you bite back a giggle when rafe's head drops to your tits, his hands finding the back of your shirt to untie it. his shaking hands undo the knot of your shirt and tug it completely off, almost ripping it when it gets caught on your shoulders. so needy to have access to your chest.

his breathing hitches as he tunes into all his senses at once, the feeling of your cunt dragging up and down on his clothed cock, the smell of your coconut shampoo and your vanilla bodywash, but especially the soft muffled noises you make.

you watch him with hooded eyes, looking down at him as he drools on your tits— leaving warm spit to cool every time he pulls away slightly to look down and watch you grind. you can tell he's cumming before he even notices, his whines becoming louder and his hips bucking up.

he doesn't notice that he's cum until he feels the prickling pain of overstimulation rush through him when you keep moving, then he feels the uncomfortable wetness in his boxers— then comes the embarrassment. he came, in his pants, before you!

he almost apologizes, maybe begs for you to listen and not be mad but he's cut off by you. "there's mommy's boy," you coo at him, bordering teasing and loving. "did you cum for mommy?"

he swears his heart soars as he nods, a heavy blush spreading across his face as he looks up from your tits. peeking out from them innocently, like he didn't just do lines of coke with barry and cum in his pants.

"sweetheart," you whisper, running your fingers through his greasy hair, noting that he needs a shower after. "can you please make mommy feel good now? it's unfair that you've came n' i haven't.."

he almost gives himself whiplash with how fast he starts nodding, moving to get up and shove you onto the couch.

[fallin2pieces]

let's get in the back of your cop car, officer (charlie swan x coquette!reader)

heavily inspired by playing dangerous by lana del rey <33

cw: MDNI age gap (reader is a freshman in college and charlie is in his 40s), dubcon, p in v, dry humping, blowjob, cunnilingus, choking

authors note: this is my first ever fic! also sorry for the inconsistencies, english isn't my first language :( also lmao this was supposed to be a blurb but i got carried away 😭

- your parents were away for a business trip which left you home alone during break. you always had the nasty habit of smoking, and being home alone it was an opportunity to smoke inside your house.

- as you were cooking dinner, you were smoking in your kitchen, using your stove top to light a cigarette.

- you lazily dragged the cigarette across your lips, inhaling the smoke as you sat on your kitchen countertop.

- as the night progressed, you washed the dishes and got ready for bed

- little did you know, you've accidentally left the stove on.

- 4:38am. “fuck.” you woke up disheveled in your pink silky night gown, coughing as smoke covered your walls, filling your lungs.

- crying as you run down your stairs, you’ve realized what you’ve done.

- shakily, you reach for the family phone by your paisley printed couch and started to dial the police department as guilt engulfs you.

- “forks police department!” an older man on the other side of the phone responds. you knew it was wrong. you knew it was insensitive. maybe you were just a girl but something about the rasp and the timbre in the policeman’s voice made your insides turn.

- later on, you were sitting on your porch, the cold washington rain dampening the steps you sit on, your hair wet, lips and eyes puffy as you cry from guilt.

- a car pulls up in your driveway as a tall dark figure approaches you

- “ma'am you called, are you okay?” the same hoarse voice from the phone asks.

- you just start sobbing. you were guilty. you’ve already damaged your parents’ house.

- as the older man approaches you, he sits down at the porch with you to comfort you.

- as he sits down the smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume engulfs your senses.

- you look up at the police officer, he was even more attractive (and mature) than you imagined.

- this is wrong. you thought this isn’t the right situation to whore around.

- “i-i didn’t mean to do that officer..” you croak out, you started sobbing and he puts his arm around you

- “my name is chief swan. would you wanna sit in the car as i question you?” he asks.

- you nod rapidly as you got up and walked towards the backseat of the car. "this is the right opportunity" your mind lingered.

- “so what caused the fire?” his voice reverberating inside the empty police car as he closes the car door.

- you admit what you’ve done, stuttering and stuttering through tears.

- he just looks at you "oh poor you so alone and fragile." he thought after all you were just a girl and you didn’t mean any of this

- “officer is there anyway that you wouldn’t press charges?” you looked at him with hungry and intent eyes.

- you felt pretty bare right now. in your light pink nighties. the way he was taller, bigger and had more authority than you do… oh you felt so weak, like a bunny waiting for its predator to attack.

- as messed up as it sounds, this made you feel very warm and fuzzy, his presence made you warm and fuzzy. the way his mustache sits on his face and how his messy brown hair stands up, he looks a little sleep deprived and tired, probably from his police job. he’s just a little older than your parents. just perfect, you thought to yourself.

- you’ve never been attracted to a man his age but something about him being an authority figure made you insides turn in excitement, which made you yearn for more.

- “please officer..” you plead as you get on your knees, very intent to seduce the older man.

- he groans at the sight of you. “no no, sweetie we can’t-” he breathes out as he adjusts himself to try to hide the obvious tent in his pants.

- “officer i’ll be good i promise… just don’t press any charges on me…” you said it’s working you thought as your manicured hands fumble with his silver belt buckle

- “oh my sweet sweet girl.” he groans as he cups your sweet face as his thumb plays with your pink plush lips as he inserts his digits in your mouth making you moan around his fingers.

- “i shouldn’t be doing this.” charlie thought to himself

- you adjust yourself from kneeling, the roughness of the police car’s floormat bruising and ever so slightly scraping your delicate knees

- you use your teeth to unzip his pants as your eyes never leaved his, his hands cupping your face as he tucks your hair away.

- as you palm him through his boxers, wetness pools in your floral underwear.

- eager for some friction, you decided to use your fingers to press on your clothed cunt.

- as you fumble on his waistband, his cock still soft you whimper at the sight of his size.

- oh poor man.. you thought he was probably so pent up, no one probably took care of his sexual needs :(

- you start kissing on his cock sweetly as you look up at him..

- oh the way he stares down at you makes you feel inferior, you moan at the thought.

- slowly, you put his cock in your mouth.

- starting slow… going deeper and deeper you grow desperate for pleasure of your own

- he groans at the sight of you… so cockdrunk.. so needy for him.. it’s been years since someone wanted him this bad.

- “your such a good girl for me.” charlie manages to groan out, he holds you by your throat forcing you to look up

- picking up the pace, you moan and gag around his length sending him over the edge.

- he notices you yearn for attention down there :( so he signals you to stop and he instructs you to straddle him.

- with his cock out, you straddle him, kissing him hungrily as your clothed cunt pressed against his bare girth.

- as you took in his tongue, the taste of gas station coffee and cigarettes intertwined with your saliva.

- he eventually starts creeping his calloused hands to your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he rides your nightie up making you whimper and soften into his touch.

- as he finds his rough hands up and down your body, he fondles with your breasts, nipples erect from the cold washington breeze, the straps of your nightgown falling to the side as he takes your tits out to look at them.

- oh they were so perky and so soft. he made his way down with his mouth, lapping at your soft skin, eventually finding his tongue wrapped around your sensitive nipple.

- you throw your head back moaning at the pleasure he gave you, rocking back and forth slowly finding some friction as your baby pink painted nails dug crescents into his shoulder.

- he reaches down, to lift the skirt of your nightie, reaching down to your panty clad cunt, taking his thumb and firmly tracing circles on your clit.

- you elicit a moan and collapse into him, his big strong arms supporting you as you reach your high.

- suddenly you felt brave, you pull your panties to the side and you sink down to him.

- “n-no sweetie we can’t-” he whimpers out as you lower into him, as he throws his head back.

- “please officer let me be good.. let me be a good girl..” you cry out in desperation for some relief.

- you just sat there, letting your tight cunt adjust around his big cock your as he wraps his big strong arms around you.

- “baby.. your cunt is so tight.. fuck—” he pants out while looking at your beautiful face.

- you weren’t that experienced per se… only being a freshman in college, having one night stands with guys your age, with no love only lust but with chief swan, it felt intimate and romantic. the way he holds you and kisses you made you melt into his arms. it made you feel like you were cared for.

- slowly but surely you went up and down, savoring his length, you’ve never had someone this.. big and girthy (and mature).

- charlie being on the older side, didn’t have enough stamina, so you were using him like a dildo over bouncing up and down his cock as you looked at how his face was painted with pleasure.

- he looks at you with so much lust and love in his eyes, he haven’t had someone take care of him like this for years.

- he pressed his calloused thumb on your clit rubbing circles making you see stars.

- this was the most pleasure you’ve received from a man.

- “such a good girl for me, taking my cock like this, don’t worry i won’t give you charges princess, no one has to know. ” he looks at you firmly.

- you shake uncontrollably. poor girl can’t take all that cock inside of her :(

- you were making his pants all wet from your juices, all the mixed sensations of him nipping at your soft skin, his thumb pressed to your clit and his cock in you was enough to send you over the edge.

- “fuckfuckfuck-” you whimper out as you come undone on him, your cunt fluttering around his fat cock.

- “you’re doing so good for me.” he says as he carries your waist up as he thrusts inside you and spills his cum inside of you.

- he quickly pulls out, pushing you to lay down on the car seat.

- chief swan got on his knees, pulls you panties to the side and started lapping at your freshly fucked cunt, his mustache tickling your clit as his mouth worked on you.

- you squeezed your legs together, pinning his head steady between your legs as he overstimulated you, as you squirm and pull on his hair.

- he suddenly knelt up, slapping his cock on your clothed cunt, rubbing it up and down your slit.

- your eyes roll back so far back it felt like you could see the back of your skull.

- “officer please-” you moaned out, chest heaving. everything about him was intoxicating. you fucking in a police car only added to the thrill, the scent of sex and his cheap cologne filled your lungs.

- “please what? use your words sweetheart.” he said between groans, as he held your chin with one hand so you could make eye contact with him.

- his thrusts became more erratic and his hips stuttered.

- “please cum on my face officer..” you said embarrassed. you couldn’t believe this filth was coming out your mouth.

- he knelt up, rapidly stroking his length as his seed painted your delicate face.

- meeting chief swan was definitely an experience.

happy father’s day to all my dilfs out there

[sister-lucifer]

Stupid Dog! 

Puppyboy!Ticci Toby x Gender Neutral Reader 

Genre: Smut 

Summary: Toby is pent up, and he wants to be good, but he just can’t take being ignored anymore. 

Content/Warnings: No explicit consent but not non/dubcon, Toby’s breaking the rules but Reader makes no move to stop him beyond just scolding him for being needy and they both enjoy it, degradation, just a bit of praise at the end, dry humping, mentions of punishment, mean dom reader but Toby likes it, needy sub Toby, whatever the term for controlling when your partner masturbates is 

[IF YOU LIKE THIS POST, PLEASE REBLOG. ITS THE BEST WAY TO SUPPORT MY WORK]

All week. 

It’s been all week with this. 

With you, sitting at your desk, hunched over your computer as though it’s utterly captivated you with its cornea-searing rays and endless pings that constantly demand your attention, meanwhile your beloved pup has been practically thrown to the wayside without a care. 

It’s cruelty is what it is, complete neglect! No matter how much Toby whines or how loud he howls or how many of your shoes he threatens to tear to shreds, the mistreatment never ceases. How awful, how unfair, choosing your stupid job over him! He should be the must important thing in your life! Don’t you know he needs your attention to survive?! He’ll die like this! 

The worst part, though, is the fact that you’ve kept The Rule enforced despite your preoccupation. You have set many rules for Toby to keep him from destroying the house or getting the police called, but the one he absolutely hates the most is The Rule:

Under absolutely no circumstances is Toby allowed to masturbate unless under some sort of supervision. 

He had laughed in your face the first time you suggested that, only to choke on his mirth when he saw how deathly serious you were. He’d tried to argue, naturally, but you presented an awfully compelling case. He was messy and erratic, making complete filth of his bedsheets which you would then have to wash because he’s too scared of the noises the washing machine makes. He’d chew the pillows to bits and hump every piece of furniture in the house, and no matter how much you scrubbed or washed or sprayed his thick musk would be stuck on the fabric for weeks. Not to mention he had no idea when to stop, he was practically addicted to it; he’d go and go and go until he made himself pass out. It was for the benefit of you both that he be reigned in. 

He doesn’t like it, not one bit, but he concedes to the rules you set nonetheless. It’s just one of the many things he had to give up when you took him off the street and gave him the cushy life of a human. It was a big adjustment, yes, and although for the most part every change has been for the better, it’s times like these he wonders where he’d be if he was still feral. 

Certainly not as frustrated, that’s for sure. 

He’s been watching you from your bed for a while now, staring at your back as you click click click away at your keyboard with nary a fleeting glance at him. The first few days he whined, but gave up on that rather quickly when you didn’t budge. He barked a couple of times, but all that got him was a few coos and gentle shushes of pity. At this point, you don’t have the time or energy to keep explaining to him why you can’t play. He’s heard the same response enough times to know it by heart, anyways. 

The longer he sits here, the more restless he gets. The more restless he gets, the more his mind wanders, and his mind wanders to dirty places far too easily. When boredom seeps into his brain, he combats it with some rather lewd fantasies. His eyes flutter shut for just a moment, and in that split second an entire film of utter pornographic depravity plays on the back of his eyelids, memories of your bare body flashing through his mind. 

 It becomes far too much for him to bear rather quickly, and soon the full weight of Toby’s frustration is weighing heavy on him. He squirms on his back, nearly whimpering at just the slight friction of his boxers on his hardening member. 

He just can’t do this anymore! 

He practically throws himself off of the bed, hitting the ground with a hard thud. In the next moment he’s over your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck and whining softly. He sighs with relief when you actually reach up to scratch his head, although your free hand never leaves the keyboard. 

“Hey, puppy,” you say softly, without looking at him. You take your hand away far too quickly, and Toby whines when you pull your fingers out of his messy hair. He nuzzles you again, with a bit more intensity this time. 

“C’mon, Toby, I’m busy right now,” you say with a sigh. Toby huffs in annoyance. 

Dammit. So close. 

He can still feel the heat in his loins growing more and more by the second. This just won’t do. 

The next thing he knows he’s sitting between your legs, looking up at you from the floor. His heart flutters when you glance down at him with a soft smile, briefly tousling his hair in an almost condescending gesture, which earns another huff of irritation from Toby. 

“I’m sorry, pup, really I am,” you explain, “but I just can’t right now. I promise, as soon as I’m done I’ll do whatever you want. I just need you to be patient for a bit longer.” 

That wasn’t anywhere near the answer he was hoping for. 

He grumbles and leans in, shamelessly burying his face in your groin. He inhales deeply, tail thumping against the ground as he makes a show of taking in your scent. He smirks to himself when he feels you jump. 

“Toby, c’mon, don’t be like that—“ you start, but he cuts you off with a growl.  That makes you raise an eyebrow. 

You’ve seen him do this before. This is your cue. 

That’s how he lets you know he wants to play rough, and he’s ready to be treated like a brat. 

Of course, you oblige. It’s the least you could do, really. 

“Oh, you dumb mutt,” you hiss, and you can practically feel the smile he’s holding back, “can’t you behave for once in your life? You know damn well you aren’t supposed to be doing this.”

You have to hold back a grin of your own when the incessant wagging of his tail only picks up the pace. 

You feign annoyance with a heavy sigh, sharply turning your head to look back up at your computer. You carry on with your typing, ignoring the feeling of Toby shifting against you.

That is, until you feel his hips start to grind against your leg. 

Oh, fuck. 

It takes everything in you not to drop everything you’ve been working on right then and there, and  you even feel a slight pang of guilt when he whines that high pitched whine at you. 

You take in a deep breath. You exhale slowly. 

You have to stay strong. If you give in now, he’ll never learn. 

And besides, it’s so much more fun when you’re tough. 

“Toby. You haven’t been given permission,” you state firmly. This only earns an even more pitiful whimper from him. You resist the urge to bite your lip. 

“…Bad. Bad dog.” 

The words hold no weight. It only makes Toby hump your leg with more fervor. 

You shift your leg with intent, shuddering at the little yelp that Toby lets out when it rubs against his bulge. He’s already soaking the front of his sweatpants. 

“God, can’t you go ten minutes without begging to get your cock wet?” you growl. 

A shaky giggle manages to make its way through his gritted teeth. He nuzzles against your knee, and you can feel him looking up at you with those big, hazel eyes despite the fact that your gaze is fixed firmly on your monitor. He’s getting exactly what he wants, and you can’t even be mad. 

You do your best not to show how much this is affecting you. You force yourself to not look down at him, to keep your shoulders relaxed and your typing at its regular pace. 

“…You’re breaking the rules, and you know it.” 

For just a moment you feel Toby’s hips stutter at that. Then they’re only moving faster, his bulge desperately rubbing against your leg as endless whines fall from his lips. 

Oh, he’s just begging for more. 

“Stupid dog,” you spit, and you could swear his cock twitches at that, “Don’t you have any self control? I can feel you leaving a stain on my pant leg. Where’s your dignity?” 

He moans in response, and you feel him rest his chin on your knee. He’s panting heavily now. 

“I really should keep you on a leash,” you muse aloud, feigning thought, “If you keep acting like an animal, I’ll chain you up and treat you like one. You can’t get into any trouble if you’re stuck in the backyard, can you?” 

He growls, but it’s not aggressive; it’s desperate. It’s a needy rumbling in his throat that wants more. 

You shift your leg again, making a subtle effort to aid him in his release. 

He’s huffing and puffing like a freight train. Just hearing the sound makes you miss feeling his warm breath on your neck. 

“…P…P-Please,” Toby stammers, and your eyes widen a bit. 

It’s rare for him to use real words when he can growl and whine to get his point across, but now he’s using his voice to plead. 

Oh, God…

You inhale deeply once again, your breath shakier than before. 

You finally give in. 

You take your hands off the keyboard, resting them on the arms of your chair instead as you lean back. The way Toby lights up the moment you make eye contact, that dumb little smile that crosses his face and makes his entire expression go lopsided with a lust-drunk haze. 

“Go on then,” you order with a nod, your voice a bit more gentle than you meant for it to be, “make a mess. You’ll take the consequences for this, won’t you?”

He nods eagerly, and you’re not even bothered by the pool of drool he’s leaving on your pant leg. 

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you watch him. His desperation is evident on his face, eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he loses himself to the feeling of an impending (and much needed) release. 

“Oh, you’re just a dumb little pup, aren’t you?” you tease, only to be met with a slurred chant of ‘Yes, yes yes.’  You’re surprised he can speak at all with the way his tongue hangs limply out of his mouth like a useless appendage. 

He’s losing the slight semblance of a steady pace he once had. He’s getting close, and all that matters now is getting to the end.  He needs this. 

He can’t control his voice anymore. Each whine or moan is louder than the last, until he’s practically screaming. He’s nearly sobbing, both from the pleasure and the overwhelming relief of finally getting what he’s craved all week. He’s so close, so damn close. 

There’s just one thing that’ll push him over the edge. 

“…Go on.  Cum for me like a good boy.”

Toby nearly chokes on his breath. 

A tremor rocks his body as he releases without warning, his sticky release shooting through the fabric keeping his cock contained and leaving a warm sensation on your leg. The last moan that leaves him is completely pathetic, and soon his voice melts into nothing but barely audible whimpers. Slowly but surely his erratic grinding comes to a stop, and the only sound is his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He rests his head on your knee, now leaning against you completely since he can’t support himself. 

You take a moment to appreciate the sight of your puppy; all tuckered out, brunette hair flicking out in all directions, and barely conscious. 

Adorable. 

You reach out and gently pet his head, scratching his scalp right on that spot that makes his leg twitch. 

“Look at me, pup,” you order, and he obeys. His eyes are lidded, but he still has the energy to give you a tired smile. You return the gesture. 

“Mm…I hope you know you’re in big, big trouble.”

Toby nods, his grin only widening. He doesn’t regret anything. 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out. 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.