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hischierhoney · 4 months ago

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Someday ⊹₊⟡⋆

Nico Hischier x reader // masterlist

summary: an overheard comment at a team party has Nico spiraling about the future- in the best kind of way. 2.9k

or: stache!nico looks like a dilf so I wrote a breeding kink fic. nobody perceive me.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, breeding kink but like. in a for fun way not an actually trying to get pregnant way, unprotected sex, strong language, mentions of future pregnancy

i blame cece & sabrina carpenter

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” Nico asks, his voice ringing out through the softly lit kitchen.

You hum, shaking soapy water off your hands into the sink. “Gonna have to be more specific, babe.”

You figure he’s probably talking about something you said when you were at the Lazar’s house for a football game watch party. He’s been a bit pensive ever since you got home, a bit lost in his own head. Not in a bad way- you know the man well enough to know he’s not upset. He’s just been thinking. When you turn to face him in the kitchen, his bottom lip is pink, like he’s been biting at it, and his brows are slightly furrowed. But his eyes are soft. Warm.

He leans on the island, hands splayed against the granite. He’s studying you. You wrack your brain for what you might’ve said earlier to make him spiral like this. Was it the chilli you asked for the recipe for, or the team you decided to cheer for? Was it your comment about the summer in Switzerland, how you missed it already? Was it-

“You were in the kitchen,” he says. “You were helping feed the baby.”

You blink, your heart fluttering slightly. It’d been one of his teammates’ wives, and she’d been trying to juggle the baby and her toddler, trying to soothe both of them. You’d offered to help, willingly tucked the baby into your arms and gave them a bottle. She’d smiled at you, eyes alight with mischief.

“You’re a natural,” she’d said. “You want one of your own someday?”

You’d nodded, without even thinking about it. “Someday,” you’d agreed. “Nico would make such a good dad. Especially with the mustache, my god.”

She’d laughed. You had, too. And then you’d moved on. You hadn’t even realized Nico had heard it.

“You were eavesdropping,” you tease, gently.

He grins sheepishly. “You looked pretty. With the baby.”

He’s treading lightly. You are, too.

“Had to try and match your DILF energy,” you tell him. When he cocks his head, you continue. “You know. Dad I’d like to-“

“I know,” he interrupts, his cheeks going pink. “You- I… you meant it, though?”

You blink. “Yeah, Neeks. We’ve talked about that, remember? Said we were both open to kids, eventually.”

He nods, swallows. “Yeah. In general. We- when we talked it was so… early. But today you said-“

He pauses. You take a good look at him- really look. The flush on his cheeks, the spread of his palms against the counter. His dark, wide eyes. And suddenly, you think you know.

“Today I said you’d make a good dad,” you fill in, and he blinks, slowly. “Especially with the mustache.”

He rumbles out a laugh, his thumb rubbing against the counter. You push yourself away from your spot and round the island, so you’re within arms reach of him. You can practically feel the heat radiating off his body. Warm like a sunny afternoon.

“I meant it,” you add. His shoulders shake, almost imperceptibly. “Did you like that, baby?”

His eyelids flutter, lashes tangling against his cheeks. “I like you.”

He’s deflecting. You laugh, and without any real effort, you slip under his arm to stand between him and the counter. He’s bracketing you in now, one arm on each side, staring down at you. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. You can feel the weight of his gaze. You can feel the tension rolling off of him- good tension. Like a late summer storm, waiting to break.

You reach up and wind your hands around his neck. He shivers, then repeats the motion when you toy with the ends of his hair where they brush against his neck.

“You can tell me anything, you know,” you say. “I wanna know.”

He leans forward and brushes a chaste kiss to your forehead before he speaks. “I liked it. You saying that.”

You hum and tug on his hair, just slightly. “Yeah?”

He swallows and nods. “Yeah. Maybe a little too much. I mean. I know, someday, you know. Now isn’t the time for… for a baby. But…”

You can feel your face grow warm, feel your own pupils grow wide, feel the way you’re leaning into him already. The tension crackles underneath your skin.

“There’s always time to… practice,” you tell him.

That seems to be all the permission he needs, really. His hands fly from the counter to your hips, cold from the granite but warming up quickly. He leans down to capture your mouth in a heady kiss, one that has you feeling desperate within seconds. He presses you close against the island, then presses himself close to you, close enough that you can feel how hard he is underneath his sweatpants. You gasp against his lips, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, hot and insistent and needy.

His hands on your hips slip lower, lower, lower, until he’s cupping your ass, hauling you up and away from the counter. You squeal against his lips when he lifts you up, pulling at your legs to wrap around his waist. It changes the angle, lifts your head higher than his, and you cup his face in your hands to kiss him again, relishing in the soft groan he lets out.

He carries you to the bedroom by memory alone, and you bite back a laugh when he bumps into the wall slightly on the way. You’re not laughing much longer, though, when he stumbles his way to the bed and tosses you down onto it. You yelp, landing with a slight bounce, eyes suddenly wide open as you stare up at him. His shoulders are heaving, eyes wild, mustache sitting proudly above his kiss reddened lips. He’s hesitating.

You reach for the hem of your shirt. “You’re gonna make a hot dad, you know. Mustache and all.”

The groan he lets out is deep and ragged. He lurches towards the bed to lean over you, his hands braced on either side of your head. You grin up at him, happily. He has a smirk on his lips when he reaches down and rips your hands away from the hem of your shirt, pinning them above your head easily, both wrists between one hand. You sigh, flutter your eyelashes at him, and arch your back towards him.

“Let me,” he says. “Let me take care of you.”

You shudder beneath him as the smirk turns to a full on grin. He keeps your hands pinned above your head, but his other hand skates down your body, replacing yours at the hem of your shirt. He toys with the fabric before he slips his hand underneath to brush over your skin. His hands are heated, now, as he shoves the shirt up your body, leaving you exposed to him. You feel yourself growing hazier.

“You take good care of me, always,” you tell him, grinning up at him. “Gonna take such good care of us.”

He groans at that, a guttural sound that has fire licking up your spine. You whine, squirming on the bed beneath him, trying to reach for him, to hold on, to pull him close. He lets out a laugh, keeps your hands pinned, and his other hand slips over to lay flat against your stomach. He holds you down against the bed. Your breath hitches.

“Gonna feel me right here,” he says- promises. “Gonna make you mine.”

He gets your clothes off quickly after that. His clothes follow yours into a pile on the floor. The moment of distraction lets you shift on the bed, wiggling your way up towards the pillows. You roll over, half onto your stomach, reaching towards the headboard to pull yourself farther. Nico doesn’t seem to like that- his hands land on your now bare hips, and he yanks, leaving you yelping and giggling as he pulls you back down towards the end of the bed. There’s laughter on his lips when he finds you again, when he climbs up onto the mattress with you, when he engulfs you, his lips meeting yours again, hot and wet and intoxicating.

He’s more rushed than usual, more frantic. His hand slips between your legs to cup your cunt, groaning at what he finds there. You know you’re soaked- how could you not be, when he looks like that and talks like that and kisses you like that. His fingers drift toward your center, his thumb brushing against your clit, and you whine. You reach up to hold onto him, your hands clawing at his shoulders as he teases you.

“Just want you to fuck me,” you admit, voice high and breathy. “C’mon, Nico-“

“Jesus,” he mutters, dragging his lips against your jaw, his mustache scraping against your skin. “Gonna be the death of me.”

He takes his time, touching you until you’re a whining mess beneath him. When he finally gives in, finally takes his cock in his hand and leans close, you’re practically begging him for it. You can see the way his lashes flutter against his cheeks- he’s feeling it too. He brushes the head of his cock over your center and chews on his bottom lip. The noise he lets out when he sinks into you is close to a sigh. Like he’s relieved. When you look up at him through half lidded eyes, he’s watching you. Watching your face. His brow ticks, and you wonder what he sees there. If he can see the way you’re already falling apart.

He splays his hand across your stomach again- you whimper and squirm beneath him, if only to test the way he’s pinning you down. He sighs, again.

“You take me so well,” he coos.

You keen, your eyelids fluttering shut at the words. When he bottoms out, you hear the groan that leaves his lips, and then you feel it when he ducks his head to mouth at your collarbone. He stays put for a moment, the stubble on his jaw brushing against the sensitive skin of your chest.

Then, he starts to rock his hips, and along with that, he starts to run his mouth.

Nico’s always been a talker, at least towards you- outside of bed and in bed. It’s one of your favorite things about him. On a bad day, he can take your mind off things with a long winded ramble. In bed, he can keep up a running commentary of dirty talk that sends you careening towards the edge far faster than you ever have. But if you’d thought it was something good before, now…

“That’s a good girl,” he groans, grinding against you on the end of a roll of his hips. “Gonna take me so well, huh? Gonna let me fill you up, yeah?”

You cry out beneath him on the next thrust, arching off the bed again, trying to wrap your legs around his waist to keep him there. It’s no use. He keeps you pinned, his hand pressing into your thigh to hold you open for him, his other hand still pressed against your stomach.

“Fuck,” he mutters, panting openly against your chest. “Oh, fuck. Good girl. So good for me.”

You reach up and bury your fingers in his hair, to tug and pull and hold. He groans, again, rolling his hips against yours slowly. You pull, again, with a whine.

“Please,” you mumble, into the open air above you. “Need it, Nico.”

He huffs. And then he really starts to talk, punctuating his sentences with lazy but pointed rolls of his hips. He tells you how good you looked that day, how you’d made his imagination run wild. He tells you how he pictured this. He tells you how someday, he’s going to have you like this for real, take you like this over and over again until it works, until you make him a dad. He cradles your face in his palm and kisses you, lets his hand slip down to hold your throat, and tells you how good you’ll look when he’s finished with you, when he’s left his mark.

You don’t realize the repeated pleas that hang in the air are coming from you until he’s shushing you, gently.

“Please what, baby?” He asks, voice soft and sweet, bordering on patronizing. “Tell me what you need, anything you need.”

He rolls his hips again, shuddering when he presses deep. You bite back a wail, your skin on fire. Your hands have found anchor points now, one twisted in the duvet beneath you, the other clinging to his shoulder, sure to leave marks there. The same way he’s going to leave marks on you. The way he’s going to bury himself deep and come inside of you and-

“Please, Nico,” you cry out, cherishing the way his breath stutters in his chest. “I need it. Need you. Need you to fuck me and fill me up and take me- any way you want, just- please, please-“

He smothers the rest of your words with another kiss. You whine into his mouth, let his tongue twist against yours as you melt into the bed. And, as he’d said, he does exactly as you asked. His thrusts pick up speed, pick up intensity, pick up a new edge. He plants his hands beside your head and takes. When he breaks the kiss, gasping for air against your cheek, you open your eyes to look up at him. His pupils are dark and wide, a feral grin on his lips.

You can feel it coming, can feel yourself teetering on the edge. “Oh, Nico,” you whine.

“I’ve got you,” he promises.

He reaches for one of your hands and pulls it to your stomach. He presses his hand over the back of yours, using your own palm to pin you to the bed. You choke on your next breath-it all feels so intense, so heady, so overwhelming.

“Gonna fill you up,” he promises through a groan. “nd then m’gonna do it again. And again. As many times as it takes. And you’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you-“

“Nico,” you gasp,clinging tightly to him. “M’gonna-“

“I know,” he coos. “Just let go, baby. M’right there with you, just-“

When you come around him, he buries himself deep and follows suit. The coil snaps for both of you, and the air is filled with a mix of your sounds. The shockwaves of your orgasm roll through you, and you can feel him coming deep inside you, pulsing and twitching, the way he promised he would, while your vision goes white.

You collapse back onto the bed, utterly spent. He follows quickly after, blanketing you with his body, his face buried in your neck. Your ears ring, loudly, and leftover stars dance in your vision. When you finally come back around, you realize he’s mumbling words into your skin. A mix of English and Swiss German, barely coherent-

“So good for me, schatz, so- verdammte hölle. Take me so well. My good girl. Gonna knock you up. Someday. Someday I’ll do this for real. Eines tages, baby.”

“Nico,” you gasp out, again, and he lifts his head, resting his chin against your collarbone, atop his hand.

“There she is,” he says. “You okay?”

You nod frantically. “So good. That was so good.”

He nods in agreement and rests his cheek against his hand, blinking up at you softly. “It’s like your song.”

You blink, frowning at him. “Huh? My song?”

He nods, drumming his fingers against your collarbone. “You know. The Sabrina one. I might let you make me Juno. That song.”

You blink wildly, your heart twisting, squirming beneath him. Because yeah, you know the song. The one about being so in love you’d let him get you pregnant. One of me is cute, but two though? You’ve had it stuck in your head for days, have been humming it nearly nonstop. Of course he noticed.

“I would, you know,” you tell him. “I’d let you.”

He rumbles out a laugh, eyelids fluttering against his cheeks again. “Good. Stop squirming. Stay put. Gotta make sure it takes.”

You shiver. “Nico.”

You know he knows you’re on birth control. You know he’s not really being serious. But god, it’s hot to think about it. To hear him say it. To feel him pin you to the bed with one hand, his other hiking your leg over his hip.

In response, he rolls his hips against yours, still buried inside of you. You quiver, your hands flying up to his shoulders, nails already scraping at his skin.

“Nico,” you sigh, though you have a feeling it’s no use. “S’too much. Can’t.”

He hums against your collarbone and repeats the motion. Then he reaches up, grabs your wrists, and pulls them down against the bed. He intertwines his fingers with yours, hands next to your head.

“Yes, you can,” he says. “You always take me so well, you can give me one more.”

You whine, but you’re nodding, too.

“Someday,” he adds. “I’ll do this for real. And I’ll do it over and over until it works. M’never gonna get enough of you. Could never get enough.”

You whine his name again. He shushes you, soft and warm.

“I’ve got you,” he says. “Always do, always will.“

His thrusts are lazy, rhythmless. He’s in no hurry this time. He’s got all the time he wants. You melt into the bed and dream of someday.

…..

a/n: thank you for reading! come scream about mustache!nico with me in the inbox!

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seokjinsonlyone · 6 months ago

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even more niche boyfriend things i think bts would do

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

namjoon:

not a newborn baby but is a big proponent of the kangaroo care concept; like loves to cuddle you while he’s shirtless; him on his back you laid on top of him, skin touching skin at every possible contact point; it does it for him every time

sends you pictures of animals he finds wandering around when he’s out and about

takes soooo many pictures of you; don't get me wrong there's a fair share of couples photos like you're definitely taking selfies together whenever y'all go out but he takes twice as many off guard pictures of you as posed ones; definitely has a pic of you during golden hour forlornly looking out a window as his lockscreen

asks you to make him a playlist and listens to it whenever he misses you even if it's really disjointed and doesn't fit his mood simply bc you made it and he's always in the mood for you <333

learns to be more gentle around you so he becomes 5-7% less clumsy when you’re around

if you went to a party together i think there’d only be like one hour max where you’re separated from each other any more than that and y’all both start getting fidgety from missing each other bc if you’re in the same space you absolutely have to be together; when you do meet back up he tucks you up underneath his arm and kisses your temple and y’all are sickly cute for the rest of the night; like enough lovey dovey pda to make someone nauseous

always amazed at the amount of stuff you manage to bring out the house; like you'll come out after him and he sees you walking towards the car, arms stuffed to the brim with water bottles and lotions and umbrellas and whatever else you deemed necessary for the day's outings, so he has to rush to help you before you drop everything; eventually gets hip to the fact that you're a a girl and you're always gonna have bunch of things and starts pre-loading your belongings so you won't have to struggle

Oblivious Boyfriend™; as smart and emotionally intelligent and mindful as he is, he's not a mindreader; like he be so focused on his feelings for you, his passions, and his work that he lowkey don't know wtf going on outside of that; so if there's something going on around you or something wrong with you or you have a problem with him you're gonna have to spell it out lest he be none the wiser

doesn't like when you watch him work out because you're more of a distraction than anything but he does like going to you straight after working out; he gets a real kick out of the way you ogle him and feel up on his biceps while he's all pumped up

he really likes when you call him cute nicknames; joon, joonie, joonie boonie, namu like it lowkey make his heart soar; his personal favorite is joon bug you call him that and he would literally steal the moon if you asked

seokjin:

tests out all his new recipes on you; feeds you bites to taste along the way so you're not too hungry because he's a perfectionist and it takes him extra time for him to plate it; "the presentation is just as important as the taste!"

likes when you’re in the same room as him while he plays his games; not necessarily watching him but just your company is enough; switches between focusing on the game and engaging you in conversation so you won’t get bored; would actually love it if you did take an interest in whatever game he was playing; would take his time explaining the back story of each character and their strengths and weaknesses; would start a separate game so that you could play and have you sit between his legs while he helped you with the controls

has to kiss you at least 3 times before leaving the house; once when you wake up, once while you’re going through your morning routine, and once before you leave; more kisses may be shared but any less than three and he swears his whole day is thrown off

he’s going to pick at you; there’s just no way around it it’s in his nature; he won’t do it enough to make you actually annoyed but enough that you wanna smack him around a little; which… he likes things like that

has no problem singing and dancing whenever y'all are casually listening to music but if you actually wanted him to sing for you he'd get all shy, red in the ears and neck and would have to take a couple days to practice before following through

begs you to join him for tennis practice bc he wants you two to become the next venus and serena

y’all will do that one couples trend on tiktok where they paint each other and then reveal the pictures at the end and it’s not like yours is fantastic or anything but you can tell that you at least tried; meanwhile when you see seokjin’s painting you can’t tell if you’re looking at a distorted walrus or a possessed squirrel either way it is NOT you no matter how much he insists it looks like you

stays sending you thirst traps; like whenever he looks good whether it's bc he's all dolled up for some event or he's fresh out the shower with his hair slicked back or he just sees himself in a mirror and remembers he's worldwide handsome, his phone is out, he's putting a sultry look on his face, snapping a pic, and sending it straight to you

you binge watch animes together; no one will see or hear from either of y’all for like 5 days straight, complete radio silence; and when someone finally knocks on the door they see that y’all been camped out in the living room no phone in sight on season 6 of whatever anime y’all started last friday night

must feed you every time you meet up; like if he has not seen you eat something in the time you spend together he has not completed his boyfriend duties; even if he comes to your place he has to make sure you have at least eaten a snack; doesn't matter how much you weigh he absolutely can not have you wasting away on his watch

yoongi:

gently tucks your hair behind your ear

always offers you his arm to link when it’s cold out so y’all can share each other’s warmth; he absolutely will still be wearing slides with no socks tho and you fuss at him about it every time

lets you play in his hair; just sits there nonchalantly while you give him the most ridiculous hair styles; pig tails, corn rows, mohawks; as long as you don’t cut nothing he doesn’t care fr; takes a picture when you’re done with that big gummy smile on full display bc of how silly he looks

says he's not a big social media person but one of his favorite past times is sitting down with you scrolling down your fyp for hours; makes you send the funniest videos to him so he can watch later

you’re one of the few people that he gains energy from being around so he likes your presence even when you’re not particularly doing anything; like you just be sitting next to each other or like be hand in hand on a walk around the neighborhood not even saying anything but in his head he’s thinking about what a great time he’s having

if you're up late at night and start feeling peckish he'll make you some snacks even if he doesn't plan on eating; still scolds you about how eating late at night is bad as he's enabling you; ends up eating with you too

he doesn't like watching dramas with you; he'll claim it's bc of the plot but really he just doesn't like how you be kicking your feet and giggling at the male leads

not the best with verbal affirmations so whenever he does go out of his way to compliment you he ends up just as flustered as you are; “you look pretty today” and his cheeks are flushed more than yours

always preps you to bargain and gathers together all coupons before y’all go grocery shopping; “just bc i’m rich doesn’t mean i like to be ripped off”

he's always listening to you even when it seems like he's not; you could be rambling on about something and you think he's not paying attention so you stop midsentence and be like "are you even listening to what i'm saying?" and he looks up from whatever he was doing and then repeats back to you everything you said; has a great memory in general so he remembers everything you say and do even the small things that you forget about

hoseok:

sends ‘thinking of you’ texts just to let you know when you’re on his mind

if you start dancing to a song he gets all hyped up and he’s joining you immediately; hands on your hips moving you as he pleases; it’s a club wherever you and the music are

makes you one of his little beaded bracelets that says “ur my hope”

if you fell asleep in a position that looks uncomfortable he’d gently rearrange you until he got you in a more normal position; 100% the type to carry you bridal style to bed if you fell asleep for the night on the couch

the type to pop up at your crib with an insane amount of the most exquisite, top tier take out and you gotta try to figure out who he think eating all this; doesn't even try to fight the boujee allegations when you tease him for bringing out caviar and truffles

always takes pics of you when he thinks you look good; like you could be running late and you’re rushing trying to get out the door but hoseok is just gonna spend a good 30 seconds checking you out while you’re fussing at him and then be like wait a minute and starts posing you; has several organized folders of you because of this labeled by genre of your look; it’s easier that way so when he’s showing people pictures of you they won’t accidentally get a peek of something meant for his eyes only

loves the idea of you becoming his family so he really likes bringing you home; warms his heart to see you getting along with his parents and his sister; sets up a group chat with you him and his sister to help y'all talk more but lowkey gets pouty when y'all do get closer and be chatting and hanging out without him 💀

if you're not already together he'll facetime you in the morning; he won't have much to say at first other than a groggy good morning; but after he comes to terms with the fact that he has to be awake and takes a couple sips of his iced americano he's his usual ball of energy sunshiny self; will have you up doing morning stretches and light calisthenics at 6:30am

every couple weeks y'all go to the nail salon together and get mani-pedis; he leaves the acrylics and jewels and glitter to you but the overall color scheme and design aesthetic for your nails match; takes like 17 pictures of your hands together to show off

loves cuddling up to you on the couch so you can play in his hair; like each time his head is resting on your chest and your hand is running through his hair lightly scratching at his scalp he swears he’s reached nirvana

jimin:

will drag you out the house in the middle of winter to drive down to the beach and watch the sunset together; you’d be huddled up together you sat in between his legs leaning against him his arms draped around your neck pulling you into him; you’d stay there sitting in the sand even after the night settled in just talking until you were shivering and sniffling then he’d take you to a cafe to get some hot cocoa to warm up

randomly calls you in the middle of the night bc he misses your voice; smiles the entire he’s getting scolded for scaring you bc you thought something was wrong bc he called you at 2am

kisses your forehead, nose, and lips in that order every time you part ways

hates knowing there's other people staring at you so like if you're out together and wearing like a hoodie or something and he notices you're garnering attention he zips it all the way up and pulls your hood over your head and tightens the strings so no one can see you; in turn knows you hate the thought that other people even think of him so he pretends they don't even exist; like you can literally point somebody out and be like "omg aren't they so pretty" and he's gonna avert his eyes in the opposite direction won't even look and just be like "you're so pretty. there's only you"

number one advocate for a lazy morning; snuggles into you, his head on your chest trapping you in; looks up at you with a goofy smile and preens when you press a kiss to his forehead

squishes your cheeks in both his hands when you're being too cute for him to handle

like the true feminist he is, he supports your rights and wrongs!!; like you get into it with somebody and then tell him the story afterwards he's hyping you up the entire time telling you that you were right and what you should've done and what he would've done if he were you; he's just always gonna be on your side

riles you up just bc he likes the reactions you make when you’re irritated

it’s tea city when it comes to you two; like whatever you know he knows and whatever he knows you know; gossiping is actually one of your favorite bonding activities; he likes to play it up and drag it out whenever he finds something out; like he’s gonna text you and be like UR NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS!!!!! and you’ll be like WHAT and he’ll be like I HAVE TO TELL YOU IN PERSON OMG!!!! 😱 when it’s like noon knowing darn well he not getting off work until 10pm at the earliest 😭

likes to go with you when you have to “run errands” bc it’s usually just you doing girl things like getting coffee and then going to the store to buy snacks and skincare and he thinks it’s really adorable how you light up when you see small things in cute packages

taehyung:

has a series of like 12 hour logs in his phone recents list bc he stay falling asleep on facetime

makes it a point to hang out with your male friends just to assert dominance; doesn't matter if they have partners of their own or are completely uninterested in you he still wants to look them in their eye, shake their hand, and then put his arm around you to tie up any loose ends that may be dangling around

helps you pick the eyelashes out of your eye whenever one gets stuck

asks you to come over with the sole purpose of convincing you to take a nap with him; will straight up lie on the phone and tell you he wanna hang out and do this and that and then when you get over there he like let’s nap first; your cuddles just gon do it for him every time

uses kisses as bargaining chips; like if you need him to do something like idk take out the trash he's only gonna do it if you give him 3 kisses so you give him one as a down payment and the other 2 after he completes the task; (he was always gonna do what you asked but kisses make everything better)

likes to keep his hands free when he's out and about so he's always adding extra stuff to your purse; because he's always in your bag, he knows its exact content; you'll be frantically searching for your lip gloss and he'll ask what you're looking for and when you tell him he'll pull it out of some random side pocket he moved it to so he could make room for his stuff

will randomly wake up out of his sleep and call you just bc you crossed his mind; takes like 30 seconds to respond to anything you say bc he only half awake; the call lasts for like three minutes before he hangs up to go back to sleep

as a big fan of roleplay at least once in your relationship he's gonna make y'all get all dressed up and go to a bar separately and act like strangers and he's gonna pretend to pick you up

if you sent him out to pick up period products last minute he’s the type that ask if you wanted lemon or lime flavor bc one package is yellow and the other is green 😭; alternatively would ask what’s your coochie size when he noticed the numbers on it

he’s not gonna let you win at any game you play; doesn’t matter how much you whine and pout he likes winning too much; god forbid you’re actually good at something he’s gonna try his very hardest and will even practice so that he eventually beats you; will give you all the prizes tho

jungkook:

if he gets bored while you’re asleep he’s gonna start messing with you; his favorite go to games are flicking your bottom lip until you tuck it in or start to gain consciousness and stacking cheerios on your forehead; his personal best is 9 of em

hooks his chin over your shoulder to be nosy when you’re watching something on your phone that catches his attention

he understands that you’re not as nocturnal as he is but sometimes when you stay over at his place and he feels restless he can’t help but crave your attention; will wake you up at 4am gently with kisses so you can try some of the food he made; you’ll be half asleep with him kneeling in front of you feeding you some spicy noodles; he’ll patiently wait for you to finish chewing before he asks you if it’s good; makes you take at least one more bite before kissing your forehead and letting you go back to sleep; tucks himself up next to you about an hour later after he finishes cleaning up after himself

you make funny tiktoks together; they never leave the drafts of course except for when he finds it particularly hilarious and sends it in the group chat

threatens to beat up anyone who upsets you; like you tell him a story about someone who was upsetting you at work and his first response is "bring them to me. i'll take care of it"; and lord don't let someone get carried away at a club or something like if a guy starts hitting on you and won't take no for an answer before you can even tell them off he's already at the scene one shove away from being breaking news on every media outlet in the world

gets pouty when you have a night out without him but he understands the need for balance so doesn’t put up too much of a fight; his only stipulation is that if you can’t make it home on your own or your friends can’t drop you off that you always always call him; the thought of you getting into some randos car late at night when you’re not even mentally there all the way sends chills up his spine; he can’t sleep unless he knows you’re at home safe and sound anyway

doesn't consciously have a preference for how you dress like he thinks you look good in whatever but you in a dress or a skirt itches a particular part of his id that would have carl jung doing backflips; like whenever you pop out in a dress or a skirt he's coming up to you and giving you a kiss on the lips while his arms wrap around your waist and 10-30 seconds later they're dropping down and his hands are toying with the ends of your garment and grazing your thighs underneath it; it just does it for him every time

you're his safe place <333; he goes through periods where you're the only person he wants to see; he will scare you half to death like you'll get off work and go home and you hear all this noise and whole time it's him in your kitchen making sandwiches for lunch; will make up for scaring you by tucking your face into his neck while his arms are wrapped tightly around you so he can breathe you in and then cupping your face and giving you kisses; you're his baby

you have matching hyperfixations; like one of you will get into something and won’t shut up about it and then being the supportive partner you are whenever you’re on social media you send the posts you stumble across to them; but then the algorithm picks up on it and the content keeps popping so often that you actually start being entertained by it too; then y’all won’t shut up about it and have inside jokes and no one ever knows what y’all are talking about bc it’s so deep down into the referential millennial dadaism

gets offended if you’re walking side by side and not touching in some way; like if you start walking ahead of him or something he’s gonna clear his throat very pointedly and when you look at him like ???? he’s gonna look at you like you’re stupid and pull you into him where you belong

a/n: as promised she is back 🫡 thank you to everyone who encouraged me to repost 💕 pls continue to be kind my mental state is probably worse than it was before LOL

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hoshifighting · 4 months ago

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Can you pleaseeee also write staff mingyu x idol reader🥹🥹

staff!mingyu

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, jealousy, suggestive. may be triggering because of; extreme diets, blackout, getting scolded by the choreographer, fingering, a bit of possessive talk, hair pulling, cock riding, devoted mingyu too.

staff!mingyu who you're in one of those tiny-ass dressing rooms with, the ones where you can barely move without smacking into a light fixture or tripping over cables, andhe's , towering over you, big frame almost making the room look even smaller. he’s your stylist-slash-PA-slash-damage-control-for-whatever-stupid-thing-you-say-in-interviews guy, which means he’s there to check every last detail on you, no matter how close he’s gotta get.

it’s day four of this overseas tour—barely halfway in, and you’re already feeling like you’re running on fumes. you’re dodging local food left and right, not ’cause it doesn’t look good, but ‘cause it’s either not on this wild diet they’ve shoved you on or it just doesn’t sit right with your stomach. for real, you didn’t think there’d be a point in your career where you'd be skipping meals, just ‘cause the food doesn’t fit some "ideal look" they cooked up for you.

and staff!mingyu... always there, at the exact moment when your stomach’s about to start an opera of complaints, hands full of grocery bags and this half-smile on his face, like he’s in on some inside joke only the two of you share.

“alright, sit down,” he says, like you’re gonna argue, and starts unloading enough ingredients to feed a small village. he moves around the hotel kitchenette—pots, pans, seasonings, a whole rotation of stuff he’s pulled outta his endless stash. he even managed to drag around a few of those little plastic spice bottles from home, ‘cause apparently, foreign supermarkets don’t stock paprika exactly how he wants it.

“didn’t know your resume included chef duties,” you joke, propping your chin on your hand as you watch him chop veggies with the same focus you’ve seen when he’s backstage, touching up your makeup or fixing your outfits.

he laughs easy. “oh, it doesn’t,” he says, glancing over his shoulder with a grin. “but you looked like you were about to faint this morning, so i figured i’d make an exception.”

“what, you gonna make a whole buffet?” you tease, but the moment he sets that first plate down, you’re quiet. it’s nothing fancy, but it smells like heaven—garlic, spices, veggies mixed with something hearty, real food for the first time in days.

“look, you eat this, or i swear i’m shoving it down your throat myself,” he says, crossing his arms, and even though he’s joking, there’s this serious fringe in his eyes. like, he won’t let you get away with just picking at the food.

“alright, alright.” you dig in, taking that first bite, and it’s somehow exactly what you needed—warm, filling, like someone wrapped you in a blanket from the inside out. you’re not even halfway done, and he’s already cleaning up, telling you about how he once had to do this for himself, back when he was training and could barely afford takeout, let alone proper meals.

“so, yeah, i’ve been cooking for years,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and it hits you then, this guy, who’s supposed to be here to make sure your eyeliner doesn’t smudge, is actually going out of his way to make sure you’re not just a shell of yourself on stage.

“you know, if this whole career thing falls through, you’d make a damn good chef,” you say, and he just shakes his head, laughing.

“nah,” he says, “i think i like this job better. get to keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t faint halfway through a song.”

staff!mingyu who notices everything, who noticed how you walked into the practice room that day looking like... hell, honestly. there were bags under your eyes so dark they could’ve been bruises, and your skin was that shade of pale that came from days of no sleep, maybe a crazy diet, who knows what else. mingyu was hanging out with a bunch of the other staff in the corner, narrowly paying attention at first, but then he caught sight of you—really looked at you—and yeah, it wasn’t just fatigue. he knew what he was seeing; it was that same look he’d seen too many times in trainees and idols back in the day. the look that meant you’d been pushing way too far for way too long.

by the time you got through the first set of counts, your choreographer was already on your case, his tone sharp as knives. “again,” he snapped, crossing his arms, and you could practically hear his frustration from across the room. “you’re not even hitting the moves properly. what is this?” he scoffed, giving you that disappointed stare that always made you feel about two inches tall. “do you even want to be here right now?”

mingyu’s fists clenched a little. he’d seen you pull off that choreography a hundred times before, and he knew damn well it wasn’t that you didn’t care. it was that you literally didn’t have anything left in the tank, and this guy was still going in on you like you were some slacker.

but you didn’t argue back, didn’t defend yourself, nothing. just bowed your head, muttering, “i’m sorry,” in this tiny, defeated voice. mingyu could see the exhaustion written all over you, the way your shoulders slumped, how you couldn’t even lift your head all the way back up after bowing. you just stayed there, bent over in that apologetic pose, like maybe that was the last bit of strength you could pull together.

but then, as he watched, you didn’t straighten up at all. in fact, you didn’t move for a solid couple of seconds. and then, like you were a puppet whose strings had just been cut, you dropped. one second, you were still standing, and the next, your knees buckled, and you collapsed right there on the damn floor.

for a split second, no one reacted; it was like the room had frozen.

but then mingyu snapped out of it, his heart racing as he lunged forward. the rest of the staff started moving too, voices rising in panic, but mingyu was already at your side, leaning down and calling your name, voice barely hiding the worry.

“hey! hey, can you hear me?” he said, reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. you were breathing, but it was shallow, and your face had gone even paler than before, if that was possible. mingyu felt this pang in his chest seeing you like that. you’d been pushing so hard that your own body just gave up on you.

someone behind him was calling for water, another person was getting the choreographer to back the hell off.

jobs in general weren’t easy, he knew that. but for mingyu, there was nothing worse than watching idols, the people he was supposed to support and protect, get wrecked like this—shoving themselves into diets, swallowing the criticism like it was part of the gig, sacrificing sleep and health just to fit into a pair of jeans or to mold into some industry standard that kept shifting.

he’d been in this job for years, and he’d seen it all before. too many nights spent watching trainees lose more weight than was healthy, idols pushing themselves until they’d practically faded away. sometimes, in the back of his mind, he wondered if it’d be worth leaving, finding a path where he didn’t have to witness it all so up close. he’d think about it on those long nights when he was running on four hours of sleep and too much coffee, wondering what the hell he was doing here when he could be somewhere else, not dealing with the cycle of pushing and breaking and then pushing even harder.

but then there was you. you, with your stubborn smile and that relentless drive he couldn’t help but admire. maybe it was that same drive that had you here, running yourself down like you’d forgotten how to stop. but mingyu had felt that pang deep in his chest at the thought of not being around you—of not being there to see you through the highs and lows, to make sure you had someone who cared about more than just your stage presence.

it was that thought, that tiny, persistent ache, that kept him rooted here every damn day. even if he had to watch you crash sometimes, even if it drained him dry just trying to keep up, he’d stay. he’d be right there, whether you knew it or not, making sure that someone in your corner would be looking out for you, whether you wanted it or needed it, or not.

staff!mingyu who’d quietly made it his side mission to keep you fed, like he’d added it to his job description without anyone even asking. it started small, maybe just a little sandwich he’d stash in his bag for you after seeing you collapse that one time. but then it became routine, almost sacred, the way he’d show up like clockwork with that lunch pack in hand, looking half like your bodyguard in his all-black staff gear, half like your own personal chef with a menu that he swore changed every time he showed up.

“mingyu, what’d you make me today?” you’d ask, bouncing into the dressing room after each performance, all amped up and practically beaming because, let’s face it, you’d come to love his little surprise meals more than you’d admit.

and mingyu, with that smug but bashful little smile, would act all nonchalant. “oh, nothing much… just a little chicken and veggie stir-fry,” he’d say, but it was always something next level—some five-star recipe he’d learned just for you. and the best part? he’d make it seem like it was nothing, just a side gig he’d taken up on the fly, when really he’d been researching recipes, planning, and even practicing to make sure it came out perfect.

he’d hand you the lunch pack like he was passing off something top secret, keeping a close eye as you took that first bite, watching for any sign you didn’t like it. but, of course, you always loved it. because mingyu wasn’t just making food—he was making damn art. you’d take a bite, eyes lighting up as you hummed in appreciation, and he’d try to hold back that grin but always failed, shoulders relaxing like he’d just won something.

“you don’t get it, mingyu,” you’d say, mouth full but smiling like a kid on christmas. “i think you’re the reason my performance’s getting better. you’re, like, my actual secret weapon.”

and he’d laugh, pretending to brush it off, but inside? he was proud. because knowing you were hitting the stage with a full belly, with energy to burn and that spark back in your eyes—that meant everything. it was his way of giving back to you, even if you never asked for it, even if you didn’t realize how much he cared.

staff!mingyu who somehow became the world’s best photographer without ever meaning to, taking these casual, almost-too-good photos of you that drove your fans insane. you’d be walking through some cobblestone street in italy or leaning out of a coffee shop in tokyo, and he’d be there, catching that perfect shot with his phone. no fancy equipment, no staged poses—just mingyu, with his natural eye for what made you shine, snapping photos that were somehow intimate and made you look like everyone’s dream. fans called them “girlfriend pics,” and if only they knew the man behind the lens.

you had to admit it—he was stealing your heart a little more with every click. at first, you brushed it off as some harmless crush, a side effect of him being so damn good at his job. but then he’d do something small, like bring you soup when you were sick, or drape his coat over your shoulders when you got cold during a late-night rehearsal, and it’d hit you all over again. mingyu, with that goofy smile, the biggest heart, and hands that somehow felt gentle and grounding as he adjusted your hair or let you lean on him during those endless backstage waiting times.

it was easy to fall for him. too easy, really. and the way he cared? the way he was there for you, always? how could you not? he had this way of making you feel seen, like no matter how chaotic things got, he was your solid ground, always steady, always there to keep you safe and keep you going.

but, of course, staff!mingyu was a catch to more than just you. you’d see the way the other staff members watched him, the way some of them giggled and whispered, eyes lingering a little too long. and mingyu, ever the nice guy, didn’t even seem to notice—or maybe he did, but he didn’t really care. he’d give his number when they asked, smile back when they flirted, just being his usual, friendly self. you’d tell yourself it didn’t bother you, but the truth was, it was like a little ache in your chest every time.

after a show one night, you and the whole team went out to celebrate, and mingyu was right there, laughing, clinking glasses with everyone, in his element. when it got late, exhaustion finally started to settle in, and you decided to call it a night. you told everyone you were heading back to the hotel, hoping he’d maybe do the same.

but mingyu didn’t. he stayed behind, still chatting and laughing with a few of the girls from the staff, and you could feel it—that twinge of jealousy, the frustration, knowing they’d probably spend the rest of the night with him, hanging on his every word, maybe more.

as you looked back one last time, watching him, it hit you like a punch in the gut. maybe to him, all this was just work—a job. you were part of that, someone he cared about, but just someone in his care. and the pang of that realization stung. maybe you weren’t so special after all.

what you were about to do wasn’t right. hell, it felt downright selfish. you sat in the bathtub, hot water swirling around you, trying to drown out the nagging voice in your head that told you to just let it go, that this was a bad idea. but you couldn’t shake it off—every thought twisted into a knot in your stomach. you felt almost sick, like you had this strange, heavy weight pressing down on your chest, something that felt more like heartbreak than anything else.

“god, what am i doing?” you muttered to yourself, scrubbing at your skin like it might wash away the confusion. you knew mingyu was just doing his job, that he was sweet and caring and everything you admired. but watching him flirt with those girls, knowing they’d likely take him away for the night, made you feel like you were going to hurl.

“ugh, this is so dumb,” you groaned, splashing water around, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles. “why can’t i just be normal about this? it’s not like i’m his girlfriend or anything.”

but then the truth hit you again, a sharp stab of clarity amidst the chaos. you wanted to be.

after a few more minutes of spiraling, you said “fuck it,” feeling a rush of determination surge through you. you fished your phone out of your towel, thumb hovering over his name. your heart raced as you typed out the message.

“hey, mingyu. i know you’re probably busy, but i just wanted to say... i’m not feeling great. kind of sick, actually. do you think you could come by?”

you hit send, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter as you leaned back against the tub. was this too much? but then again, maybe it was time to stop hiding how you felt, to admit you needed him without a million excuses holding you back. it was either that or let him slip away for good, and you weren’t ready for that.

mingyu came in a rush, as if he’d been waiting for your text the entire time. you barely had time to wrap yourself in a towel before he was at your door, knocking frantically. “y/n! are you okay? open up!”

you opened the door, and the sight of him—hair a little messy, eyes wide with worry—made your heart race. “yeah, um, just feeling a bit under the weather,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, but it wavered slightly. you didn’t want to come off as dramatic or needy.

he touched your forehead and you leaned into his touch without even realizing it, closing your eyes for a brief second “you don’t have a fever at all,” he said, confsed.

you pulled back abruptly, the warmth fading as reality crashed back in. clutching your towel tight around your body, you walked over to the window, pretending to be fascinated by the view outside. the city lights twinkled in the distance.

“y/n?” mingyu called, confusion clear in his voice. “what’s going on?”

you couldn’t believe you took one of his rare moments of lounge because of being selfish. mingyu leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in confusion. “y/n, you were perfectly fine just a few hours ago. what’s really going on?” he asked, the suspicion creeping into his voice.

“i told you, it’s just a little... off,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. the guilt gnawed at your insides, knowing you were lying, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to come clean.

“off?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “that’s the best you can come up with? you don’t just go from fine to ‘i need my staff member to check on me’ for no reason.” he took a step closer, eyes narrowing. “you’re not actually sick, are you? what’s up?”

you shifted uncomfortably, the towel clinging to you. “seriously, mingyu, it’s nothing. maybe just a little headache or something,” you said, hoping the casual tone would brush off his concern.

he let out a huff of disbelief. “a headache? so bad that you needed me to rush in here? that doesn’t add up.” he studied you, like he was piecing together a puzzle. “just tell me the truth. are you really feeling sick, or is there something else bothering you?”

“i just thought maybe you could... keep me um... company, you know? just for a bit.”

“keep you company?” he repeated, tone incredulous. “so you fake being sick just to get me in here? you could’ve just asked! you know i’m always down to hang out.”

“mingyu—” you started.

but he cut you off, his voice firm, the playful light fading from his eyes.

“why would you do that? this isn’t some joke, y/n. my job isn’t a game. it’s serious.”

you pressed your lips together at his louder tone, the shock of it stinging more than you expected. you hadn’t meant for things to escalate this badly, and as you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, it hit you like a ton of bricks: you never thought mingyu would raise his voice at you. it felt so out of place, so foreign, and your heart sank.

“hey, hey, i’m sorry,” he said, the anger melting away as he noticed your expression. he stepped closer, the care flooding back into his eyes.

you quickly wiped your eyes before the tears could fall, you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. “you know what? i hate it,! you blurted out, unable to hold back any longer. “i hate when they’re all over you, mingyu! it makes me sick to my stomach!”

his brows furrowed, clearly caught off guard. “wait, what? you hate it when who’s all over me?”

“those girls! the staff!” you said, your voice rising with every word. “the way they throw themselves at you like you’re some kind of trophy. and you smile back at them, like it’s all just a joke or something. it drives me insane!”

mingyu looked stunned, blinking at you as if he were trying to process what you were saying. “y/n, are you—are you... jealous?”

“i — well— hell yeah, i’m jealous!” you shot back, frustration spilling over. “you’re so kind and caring, and they see that. they want you, and it feels like they think they can just waltz in and take you away from me. it’s infuriating!”

“but it’s just… it’s just me being friendly,” he stammered, “i’m not trying to lead anyone on. you know that, right?”

“i know, but it doesn’t change how it makes me feel,” you replied. “it’s like you’re this perfect guy, and they all want a piece of you. and here i am, just trying to keep my head above water, feeling like i have to compete for your attention.”

mingyu shook his head, a soft smile creeping onto his face despite the tension. “you don’t have to compete for anything. you’re… you’re the one who has my heart. all those girls? they’re just… coworkers.”

you pause, processing his words, and mingyu scoffs lightly, a teasing grin on his face.

“oh please, it’s true. you think i’m not bothered when i see those idols shoving their numbers on your sandwiches?”

you blink at him, completely taken aback. “wait, sandwiches? what are you talking about? i only eat the ones that you make for me.”

he interrupts you with that signature smile of his, one that always makes your heart race a little faster. “yeah, exactly. that’s ‘cause i always give those sandwiches to someone else.”

“mingyu, what the hell?”

“y/n, what the hell?” mingyu mocks, raising an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. “you seriously thought you could pull this off? lying about being sick? that’s low, even for you.”

you roll your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of defiance. “i wasn’t lying, i just—”

“sure, sure,” he cuts you off. “and is wearing just a towel part of your grand scheme too? because if it is, you’re gonna need to step it up a bit.”

“and what if i just want you to come over… in a towel?”

“then i’ll take that as a personal invite,” he grins, his gaze flickering to your towel before meeting your eyes again. “just know, if you’re gonna pull this kind of stunt, you better be prepared for me to take advantage of the situation.”

staff!mingyu who wastes no time, pressing forward until you’re caught between his solid frame and the cold glass, as his body pins you in place.

“you really went all out for this hm?” his fingers trailing down to the knot of your towel.

staff!mingyu who tugs the fabric free, letting it drop to the floor, leaving you fully naked. his hands spreading wide over your back, fingers firm as he turns you around to face the glass. your chest presses against the cool surface making you gasp as mingyu’s hand trails up your spine, steadying you.

staff!mingyu who grips your hips, pressing you forward, and then trails his hands up over your sides, his fingers brushing along your curves until he reaches your shoulders, leaving no part of you untouched, as though he’s marking every inch of your skin as his.

staff!mingyu who leans down, one hand sneaking around to splay across your stomach, pulling you closer to him, making you feel his hard erection on you.

staff!mingyu who lets his hand slip lower, teasing over the sensitive skin of your thigh before slipping higher, his fingers skillfully finding your pussy as he watches you through the reflection, face contorting in pleasure, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“don’t look away.” he instructs, his tone a command softened by that grin of his.

staff!mingyu who keeps one hand firm on your hip, controlling your every move as he slips his fingers inside you, “all this just because you couldn’t stand seeing me with someone else, huh?” he curls the fingers, trying to pull a response form you. “admit it,” he coaxes as he presses you harder against the glass, his fingers never relenting. “tell me you wanted this—wanted me.”

staff!mingyu who doesn’t stop until he feels you melt against him, a soft, teasing chuckle escaping as he takes in your breathless state. “next time,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “just say the word. i’ll come running.”

staff!mingyu who yanks your hair, tipping your head back to meet his lips as you twist in his grip. it’s a little clumsy, the angle throwing you off, but he holds you steady, his mouth hot and insistent on yours. you’re all melting into him, trusting the way his hands keep you secure, letting him take control as his grip on you tightens.

staff!mingyu who, somehow, maneuvers you both towards the bedd, he scoops you up with ease, laying you back as he hovers over you, he presses his hands into the mattress on either side of your head, caging you in as he dips down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your collarbone, down to your shoulder, and back up to your jaw.

staff!mingyu who takes his time, exploring every part of you with slow touches, like he’s determined to map out every reaction, to memorize every place that makes you moan.

staff!mingyu who, even in bed, is all about making sure you’re comfortable, arranging the pillows just so, adjusting the blankets if they’re too rough, whispering “is this okay?” and “tell me what you need” like he’s got all the time in the world. his hands are warm, grounding you, and he never rushes, taking the time to check in, to make sure you’re exactly where you want to be, that he’s giving you what you want, down to the smallest detail.

staff!mingyu who lets you wrap yourself around him however you want, all limbs and tangled sheets, whispering soft reassurances in your ear as his hands trace your back, making sure you feel safe. he’s patient, careful, coaxing you with soft, murmured words, taking his time until you’re both lost in it, every sensation heightened.

staff!mingyu who surprises you by pulling back, catching his breath, and suddenly flipping the roles—guiding your hands to explore him, encouraging you to take control. “i’m yours too, you know,” he murmurs, watching you with that familiar smile, the one that’s equal parts playful and sincere, as he lets you explore, giving you the chance to take the lead.

staff!mingyu who’s all breathless and desperate under you from the moment you take the lead FORREAL and ride him, his hands gripping your hips, trying to guide you even when he’s struggling to keep up. soft, wet sounds filling the room as you roll your hips in slow circles, making him whine. his head tips back, eyes fluttering shut, but you bring a hand to his cheek, making him look up at you.

“tell me,” you murmur, lips brushing just against his ear, “tell me you’re mine, mingyu. that none of these hoes matter.” he looks up, his eyes hazy but still so focused on you, like he’s trying to pour everything into that gaze.

“i’m yours—yours, only yours,” he chokes out, his voice rough and pleading, like he needs you to believe it. he’s babbling now, his grip tightening on you, thumbs pressing into your skin, anchoring himself as you move, each drag pulling another whimper from his lips. “none of them—none of them mean anything,” he gasps, desperate, brows knitted together. “just you. only want you.”

staff!mingyu who’s practically begging at this point, his hands sliding up to your waist, trying to pull you down, closer, as if he could somehow get more of you. “please.” he whispers, his eyes filled with so much want it makes your heart pound.

“you’re mine, mingyu. no one else. got it?” and the way he shudders, that choked, relieved sound he lets out, is everything. he nods frantically, hands gripping you tighter as he starts to lose control, bucking up into you.

staff!mingyu who’s wholly ruined beneath you, lost in every kiss, every whispered word, clutching onto you as if he’s scared you might sneak off, even when you��re right there, telling him over and over again—“all mine.”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen headcanons #svt imagines #seventeen #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu smut #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu smut #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x oc #mingyu x you #kim mingyu x you #kim mingyu x y/n

839 notes · View notes

yanderefarm · 4 months ago

Note

"HSSHSJDNDJDBBS i thought the yanderes were the cattle but it's actually y'all"

.....Prized bull reader x Nephite

can you tell i like hucows. can you tell. can you-.

i love this weird fucking idea of cow hybrids turning their partners into cows with cum.... i didn't include a lot of it but if you're curious about the ending that's what it is.

reader is like a big ole bull because ofc

cw;; nsft, omegaverse, heat, knotting mention, pregnancy mention, lactation, milking, animal characteristics (cough cough dicks), overstimulation, size kink, belly bulge, lots of cum, cum inflation, hucow, moo-ing

nephite loves tending to the animals on his family's farm! he loves taking care of the cute little chickens or feeding the pigs or bottle feeding the baby goats. but most of all he loves taking care of the cows. among all the regular animals the family had a small handful of hybrid cows. 4 female milking cows and 2 large bulls, with the best milk in the whole state. but they only produced their sweetest milk when they were milked without any stress, something the alphas on the farm couldn't provide. the smell of unfamiliar alphas would cause them to naturally become distressed and nervous, that's why there were the alpha bulls who protected the herd. one of the bulls was more friendly and sweet to the family than the other was and that was why nephite loved taking care of the cows so much.

he was skipping as he approached the barn.

"good mornin'" came the warm voice of the biggest bull, you. you were smiling and welcoming and you made his heart flutter.

"good morning! how did you sleep?" he brought one hand up to gently rub one of your ears, fingers scratching at the spot right behind it that you couldn't ever seem to get on your own.

"heard some animals last night but it was just a dog that got out." you leaned down into his touch to lessen the amount he had to reach.

"oh no... did everyone else stay calm?"

"of course. I'm here to protect everyone." you snorted proudly and nephite gave a little giggle.

"oh of course! you're the strongest alpha around. no doggies would ever mess with you!" he was just teasing you but you noticeably stiffened. he pulled his hand away instinctively and looked at you in concern.

"mhm... I'll protect everyone." you said it softer this time looking down at him with a fondness that made his heart thump.

nephite went to work as opposed to worrying about those pesky feelings that you gave him. though he probably should have paid attention. his hands were trembling as he hooked the machine to the 3rd cow who looked at him concerned.

"is everything ok, dear?"

"ah- oh... I'm sorry... did I hurt you?"

"not at all, sugar. but you're shaking like a leaf."

"its just really... hot? isn't it?"

she blinked at him before her eyebrows furrowed as she gave him a look like a concerned mother. she gestured something to one of the other cows before she turned back to him.

"oh darlin' how long have you been feeling hot?"

"i was feeling fine this morning! well... it was pretty hot yesterday and my stomach felt weird but I'm ok."

"when did you start feeling hot today."

"ah- after i saw mr.(y/n)."

just as he said that you came walking over with one of the other cows, the other bull who usually just sat in the corner got up and headed towards the door of the barn. nephite felt a sense of dread as you two surrounded him but he couldn't bring himself to move at all, the feeling in his stomach was forcing him to sit still. you gave him a pitying look before you sat down next to him. the other cow moved in to take his place preparing the milking machine.

"oh! no its ok-" nephite was interrupted by your large hand gently grabbing his face.

"you poor thing... let me take care of you." your warm words went straight to his head and his cheeks erupted into a deep blush.

"we can finish all your work here, puddin'. just get some love." the other cow said waving him off with a smile.

"wh-what does that-" he couldn't finish his sentence as you easily lifted him like he was nothing.

nephite was too hot and dizzy to argue, resigning himself to being carried wherever you wanted. his face rubbed against your chest as he let out soft little moans. he didn't even notice you brought him to your stall, too absorbed in your scent to form some coherence. you gently set him down on your bed, a pile of hay covered in some thick blankets with another heated blanket as your comforter. he let out a soft whine as he reached back for you. you felt bad for him, your sweet caretaker, he'd been working so hard not even realizing that his heat was coming strong. and now he was laying in your bed rubbing your blankets against his nose just to get more of your scent. you turned the heated blanket on for him before you left to grab something else.

nephite was too hot but not hot enough and this scent, the scent he knew was his alpha's wasn't strong enough. he didn't even think about it as he started pulling his dress off, then his turtleneck. he needed more of his alpha's scent, he needed to bathe in it. he wrapped your large heated blanket around his body, thankfully covering up his nudity.

you returned with some water, food, and lubricant, expecting to have to convince the farmer out of his clothes so you could help him. instead he was already making a makeshift nest out of your belongings. you brought a water bottle to his flushed forehead, earning a little squeak before he realized what was happening. he turned to you and threw himself into your arms.

"hi there, beautiful." you cooed as you pulled him up against your body. he was practically purring as he rubbed his face against your neck.

you stopped only for a moment to stare at his exposed neck, hands trailing down his warm and soft body. you found yourself giving his soft ass a firm squeeze before you could help yourself. the pretty little moan that left his lips didn't help with calming down but you steeled yourself. you gently set him back in the bed.

"pretty omega..." you ran your fingers through his long hair.

"alpha." his voice was so cute and sweet like a prayer.

"i know you're pretty dizzy right now... you wouldn't be lying here if you weren't but is there any chance you let me take care of you?"

nephite bat his eyelashes at you flirtily as his face spread into a big silly smile. he spread his legs open as an invitation for you. you couldn't resist the temptation any longer and your eyes traveled down his soft but slim body down to the curve of his thick hips and his squishy thighs that spread to expose a little patch of blue hair and an odd black metal object that wrapped around his body like underwear. you blinked at it for a minute before trying to hook your fingers into the metal and pry it off. it didn't move.

you wanted to ask what it was but nephite was too deep into his heat to answer any questions. he was much too busy pouting and whining because you weren't fucking him yet. you let out a heavy sigh and decided that whatever it was it could be replaced later you just had to get some bolt cutters. you leaned down and gave the omega a quick kiss before leaving him again.

when you returned this time nephite practically tackled you, he was covering you in kisses while he whined. you had to craddle him in your arms as you kissed him all over his cute face. he was less willing to lay back down this time as he whined not to leave him again. you shushed him with more kisses as you settled next to him, shifting his makeshift nest. you pulled one of his legs onto your hips and he tried in vain to roll his own hips against you. such a cute little thing.

you were gentle with the bolt cutters but you still left a greasy little bruise in his hip. you wiped off the black grease stain before giving it a little kiss to get better. of course the needy omega underneath of you whined and tried in vain to grind against you again. you took mercy on the sweet thing, hooking one of his legs onto your shoulders to give you access to his tight hole.

"you always take such good care of everyone, sugar. let me take such good care of you." you pressed one of your thick fingers to his tight entrance.

nephite's head rolled back and he let out a loud sinful moan throughout the barn. even with his hole absolutely soaked in slick it was such a tight fit just to push knuckle deep inside of him. he didn't even seem to know how tight he was as he kept clenching and whining. you felt bad for him, he was so cute. you grabbed the lubricant with your free hand and poured it over your hand, coating it.

even as your thick fingers worked him slowly open, just barely getting the second one inside his warmth without tears, you knew your thick cock wasn't going to fit. he wasn't built like a normal heifer, his body was so much smaller than even the runt of your herd and considering you were the largest bull, the math wasn't working out. still the cute thing was losing his mind on your fingers, moaning and whimpering and holding back tears as you scissored and prodded his leaking hole. you managed to bury your fingers just a little bit deeper and his tears finally spilled.

"oh, honey." you kissed away his tears from his red cheeks. "it's ok, I've got you."

"alpha..." his voice was trembling and weak. "'s too much... want.. want your knot..."

you gave him another kiss on the cheek, trailing your lips down to his mouth as your fingers worked. your mouth swallowed the sinful moans that poured off his tongue as you forced his tight hole to spread. your kisses relaxed his body just enough to make it easier to scissor him nice and wide. he was relaxed enough that a third finger started to push into his cute cunt causing him to roll his eyes back. you could feel his first orgasm spill against his chest as he clawed at your back.

he was getting bolder and more demanding. his hips rolled up against you as he let out another moan into your mouth. he was trying so hard to tell you he's ready. you finally dragged your mouth away, a trail of saliva still connecting your tongues as his hung from his mouth panting.

"such a pretty boy. can you be a good heifer for me?" you cooed as you pressed your fingers deeper into him.

"mmmhm i can i can be good. pwease le-lemme be good, alpha." nephite's golden eyes had hearts in them as he looked at you.

you gave him another quick kiss before you moved to line your massive length up with his hole. you pressed the blunt tip against his tight boy cunt, closing your eyes as he struggled to take you. even with all your prepping you were just so big. the tip just barely pushed into him and his useless cock spurted all over his stomach, his body clenching so tight around your cock. the poor thing couldn't see straight and his mouth hung open, drool dripping down his chin. when you finally moved again? a garbled moan drew from deep in his body as he arched his back.

you folded the drooling mess of an omega in half as you worked inch by painful inch into his virgin hole. he was so small and tight you couldn't even fit half of your cock inside before you saw his cum covered stomach bulging. you took one hand and pressed down on the bulge pushing your cock right into his sweet spot. another mind shattering orgasm wracked his little body and he screamed this time. you leaned down and kissed his screams away before licking up his salty tears.

"i know it's so much omega." you pressed your nose against his.

"s too much... knot... knot..." he babbled his eyes still unfocused and his head dizzy.

"don't speak. you don't need to talk baby." you pet his hair away from his sweaty face. "whenever you feel good i just want you to go like this; mooooo."

"moooo-" he moaned out.

"mhm good omega. just forget everything and moo like a good little heifer." you slowly rolled your hips into him.

"moooooo~"

soon the barn filled with his chorus of moos as he lost himself completely on your cock. his mind melted away as you fucked into him as much as would fit. it was all he could do to moo and drool as every thrust forced more cum to dribble out of his tiny cock. you couldn't believe how good his little body took you, even if it couldn't even fit half of your cock his sloppy hole was working hard to milk you. he clenched with every pretty moo off his lips and you were fighting not to flood his guts with cum. it was about fucking him through his heat not your own pleasure, atleast that's what you kept telling yourself.

"maaark me-" were the first coherent words the fucked out little omega said. it was like he could feel how close you were getting with every messy rough thrust of your body into his.

"baby... mm wanna mark you..." you moaned as you dragged your hips out nice and slow before slamming into him again. he let out a happy little moo as more cum soaked his stomach.

"ngh ..i wanna knot you...." your knot had formed at your base where he couldn't even reach. you gave another long thrust into him.

"pw-pwease..?" he whimpered so pathetically, so needy for his alpha.

"mmngh- fuck-" you grunted as you couldn't help but jerk your hips into him. "fuck- baby... when- when you can take my knot in your pretty cunt I'll mark you. do-do you like that?"

all he did was let out another happy moo. you leaned down to give him a sloppy kiss between moans. it was getting to be too much for you, you moved his body into a mating press your massive body and weight holding him down. the new angle got your cock just a bit deeper into his messy hole. you used the new angle to start relentlessly fucking the rest of his heat out of him. using your body weight to slam your cock deep into his boy cunt before you would pull out a little bit and begin jack hammering him. you could hear the sound of his soaking cunt as you stirred up his insides, the slap of his own cock hitting his messy stomach, those sweet moos that had turned shakey from the force. he was so erotically fucked out underneath of you and his cute cock had grown soft as it pathetically dribbled precum.

you were pleased with yourself for having shown your lovely farmer so much pleasure. you buried yourself as deep as you could, hips jerking forward and rocking into him repeatedly until you finally let yourself go. thick ropes of cum filled his already stuffed stomach as his eyes rolled back. you came buckets into the poor thing, his little stomach bloating with cum and cock but you held him still on your cock the whole time. you found yourself hoping he was getting pregnant with your calf.

when you finally dragged your length from his hole it was gaping and cum was trying to spill out. you instinctively pushed the cum back in with your fingers before you could stop yourself. you expected your pretty omega to whimper and cry but no, the poor thing had passed out while being stuffed full of cum. you chuckled to yourself as you continued to push your cum back into him.

"so good for me...." you muttered to yourself and he let out a content moan.

———

a few things changed after you mated with nephite. at first he had been awkward and nervous and even scared to be around you but when he found out you were serious about being his mate and you were devoted to him he slowly warmed up to you. you two would secretly meet up and you would spend hours stretching him open and training him to take you better.

and the other more concerning change was the growth. he took pregnancy test after pregnancy test and they all came back negative so why was milk leaking out of his chest every morning? why was his stomach getting softer? why did he let out a happy little moo every time he saw you?

#replies #yandere oc #sub yandere #yandere x male reader #top male reader #yandere cultist #male reader #dom male reader #cow hybrid!reader #yandere mlm #yandere x reader

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holybibly · 8 months ago

Text

𝔐𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔇𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔯 𝔐𝔞𝔫 | Hongjoong x reader

Pairing: Rich adult Hongjoong x reader Summary: You've always had expensive taste. So when you meet a gorgeous older man in a bar with the most ravenous feline eyes and diabolical smile, you can't resist the urge to taste him. You let him take you back to his place and give you the most unforgettable night of your life. Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, S2L, One Night Stand!AU, Luxurious! AU Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI Word count: 9.2k Warnings: Older Hongjoong (36)/younger reader (20) unprotected sex, degrading, pet names, size kink, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, rough oral, power play, praise kink, face fucking, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, and more.

net: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity @newworldnet A|N: It seems we need someone older, little bunnies, don't you think? God, I just love this. I'm so happy to be immersed in the luxurious and unbelievably dirty atmosphere of wealth and sex again. And Hongjoong has been on my mind a lot lately. So, bunnies, here I am, feeding you delicious and vulgar things, just the way we like it. ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 Part II @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis @seonghwasbbgirl

It was not like you at all to agree to go home with some random guy from the bar that you'd just met.

But Kim Hongjoong wasn't just any guy; no, he was an adult, absolutely gorgeous, rich man with a hundred diamond-carat Rolex glittering on his wrist and a devilish grin on his scarlet sensual lips. The kind of lips you want to feel against your skin.

Hongjoong was no ordinary guy whose face you could barely remember the morning after a wild night out. He was the man you'd always dreamed of, the man you'd always wanted, and frankly, the man every girl wanted. An absolute wet dream, dressed in a black Armani suit.

All night long, you felt the weight of the dark, predatory gaze of his feline eyes, the intensity of which burned through your skin, even through the dress you wore tonight. The fleeting interest you had in each other had grown into something much more. And now he was toying with you like a hunter with his prey. But in your case, you wanted to be caught by this man, perhaps too much for your own good.

He was expensive in every way—his clothes, his looks, his behaviour—and you were desperate for a taste of this expensive luxury. You wanted to have a taste of him on your tongue. You wanted to pour his luxurious nature into crystal bottles and drink it down as he fucked you into oblivion. And as you looked at him in the semi-darkness of the bar, it was clear to you that this man was going to be quite unsweet, and that fact only turned you on even more.

But it wasn't just that. It was everything about him that fueled your lust and made you feel the wet heat between your legs.

There was everything about him that spoke of experience and authority, a power that no pretty boy in your philosophy class could ever hope to possess. He was mature, dominant, and rough around the edges. And you wanted nothing more than for him to be the one who fucked you tonight. You wanted to be with someone older, someone who knew how to treat you the right way.

As you walked back to the bar after a quick smoke with a friend, you hadn't expected to find yourself face-to-face with him. The scattered yellowish light from the street lamps played in his platinum blonde hair, and it was at that moment that you knew you'd do anything to get what you wanted so badly.

Not your league, not your age, not your style—he was your golden ticket to heaven. So when he offered to take you back to his place, you didn't think twice about immediately agreeing.

He smelled like money, sex, whisky, and luxury, and this intoxicating mixture of flavours invaded all of your senses, causing your head to spin a little and warm moisture to build up between your thighs. Your little game of seduction was over; you were the ones who initiated the hunt, but he was the winner, and now you were completely in his power, ready to be on your knees in total submission.

As soon as his dark, feline eyes met your big, shining ones and demanded your full attention, you fell into his trap. He leaned in close to your face, invading your personal space completely, and lifted your chin up with his long forefinger so that all you had to do was look at him. You couldn't help but notice how long and thick his lashes were, framing the onyx gleam of his irises, and how sensual his plump, slightly parted lips were, now curved into a seductive grin.

There was a sexy, beautiful maturity in the sharp features of his face. None of the puppy tenderness you were so used to seeing in boys your age. It was so new and so damn attractive that, for a moment, you were left breathless by the wave of excitement that was washing over you. And the devilish spark that danced in the depths of his eyes didn't help you at all; if he were to keep looking at you like that, you would have turned into a puddle of lust right where you were standing.

"Is there something that you want from me, kitten?" His voice is hoarse and sultry, like pure gold drenched in poison. It has a dangerous, demonic tone, is full of the most sinful promises imaginable, and it only attracts you more. Like moths to a flame. The air between you crackles with tension and desire, and you can barely utter a word.

"I wanted..." You mutter—another thing that's completely unlike you. But you can't gather your thoughts as you stare at the breathtakingly handsome man in front of you. Never before in your life have you felt such a strong desire for any guy as you do for this man at this very moment.

Oh God.

The aura around him is so dominant, and you swallow in anticipation. All of your self-confidence evaporates completely as soon as the pointed tip of his tongue slides across his plump lower lip, leaving it wet and glistening with saliva. You can feel yourself starting to sweat; you're so hot and so needy right now.

A storm is about to break, and you want to be right in its midst.

"What's the matter, kitten? Did the cat eat your tongue?" His words were accompanied by a wicked twist of a grin on his face. He was amused, to be sure, but there was something else dancing in the depths of his slanted eyes beyond that. It was an emotion that you could not decipher, but something told you that it could hardly be described as holy.

This man was clearly aware of the overwhelming effect he was having on you. And judging by the expression on his face, it gave him an indescribable amount of pleasure.

"Hmm... perhaps you would like something to drink? With me...". God, you have made such a fool of yourself. The man's grin at your words was just that much bigger. He leaned in even closer to you, his wet lips touching the soft, sensitive skin on your ear with every word he said.

"How tempting that sounds, my kitten. But I think I can offer you something much better. How about I take you back to my house, and you let me drink the champagne right off your pretty, sexy body? Then I'm going to fuck you till dawn until you're stupid and obedient to me. Would you want that, kitty?" He purred in your ear as he ran his finger down the length of your neck until it dipped into the deep neckline of your cleavage.

You let out a low, pitiful moan as everything he does sends signals straight down the nerves that control your cunt. A palpable shiver runs down your spine, and you can feel your pussy clenching at nothing as his words take shape in your mind. The image of that tongue and those sinful lips gliding over your body as he licks off the sparkling golden champagne that you were sure would be obscenely expensive and taste exquisite is practically making you come without even touching yourself.

Without hesitating for a second, you nod in agreement with everything he has told you, and soon you find yourself sitting in the leather seat of his car, with the possessive touch of his hand on your bare thigh. As his fingers, adorned with massive silver rings, dig into your soft flesh, you swallow hard as you see the veins under his skin swell and pulsate.

You want to spread your legs wider and let him see how wet and ready you are for him, but you bite your lip, holding back the urge to retain some semblance of your dignity. Boys your age have never made your body react like this before, and it almost frightens you, but at the same time, it makes you want this man all the more.

It doesn't take long to get to his house, but for you, it feels like forever. During the drive, you find out that the gorgeous man's name is Kim Hongjoong and that he's a music producer, which makes you wonder how talented his fingers are at handling pussy. Aren't all musicians pretty damn good at fingering? Hongjoong is going to be no exception; you can be sure of that.

That's the only thought that stays in your head the whole time you drive out, as the feel of his hot touch on your bare skin literally melts your brain and makes you so soft and pliable for him.

The air in the car is becoming unbearably heavy with the excess sexual energy, and you are on the verge of choking to death. Just as you're thinking about starting to beg him to fuck you right there in the back seat of his car, he lets you know that you've arrived.

Hongjoong's house—luxurious, expensive, and modern, with lots of glass and metal—was a complete reflection of his personality and style. A marble-tiled swimming pool with soft lighting and a green maze garden lay behind the house. As expected, Hongjoong had exceptionally refined and expensive tastes in everything.

You were standing in front of the huge picture window in the master bedroom of the house, and your eyes were fixed on the glowing water of the swimming pool. It helped to ease your nerves now that you were alone with Hongjoong, far away from the prying eyes and the noise of the city. He slowly approaches you like a big cat of prey and hands you a tall glass of sparkling champagne. As you stare at the dancing particles of air and liquid, Hongjoong's earlier words come back to you, and you bite your lower lip to keep yourself from moaning out loud.

His hot breath hits the sensitive skin of your neck as his strong arms wrap around you from behind. Fingers adorned with massive silver rings dig into the soft curves of your body with great force. Behind you, Hongjoong is moaning in satisfaction as he squeezes you even tighter into his arms.

"Well, hello, my little kitty." He purrs sensually into your ear before one of his hands moves the hair from your shoulder, just to leave a long, wet, open-mouthed kiss on your skin.

Hongjoong's hands slide down your body in a possessive way until they find their place on your ample, luscious thighs. He presses you harder and harder against his body, and even through the tight fabric of his designer suit, you can feel the embossed muscles of his chest and the tightness of his abs. His fingers start to knead your thighs roughly; his grip is so tight that you're sure you'll be bruised in the morning, and in fact, you wanted him to leave as many of his marks on you as possible.

"You should try the champagne, my princess; you were so eager to have a drink with me. Weren't you?" His voice is pure darkness wrapped in velvet as he purrs against your skin. The seductive huskiness of his words sends shivers down your spine, and you tilt your head to the side to give him a little more access to kiss you. Hongjoong mooed contentedly and pulled you closer to him so that his hips were now pressed up against your plump bum. Oh, fuck. This position gives you the chance to feel his cock very clearly; it's hard, big, and thick in its girth, and you know that it's going to stretch you out in the most glorious way.

"Yes, that's what I wanted, sir." It's an experiment; you're just testing the dynamic between the two of you. You whimper as his teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of your neck, and it's a sign to you that you've hit the mark.

You definitely do not want to disappoint Hongjoong, so you obediently follow his order and bring the champagne glass to your lips, taking a little sip. Your head spins slightly as the exquisite taste of the expensive alcohol tingles your tongue.

"Such an obedient kitten, just the way I like it." His praise makes you feel even more sticky and wet in your panties. You've never been praised sexually before, and you've only guessed at your penchant for being praised and acknowledged during sex. You've always had a desire to learn more about this kinky part of your nature, but you've never had the opportunity to do so.

But it seems tonight will be the night.

Hongjoong's hot, soft lips continue to plant passionate kisses on your neck and shoulders. Your eyes roll with pleasure as he pulls the skin between his lips, leaving a purple hickey. He slips a finger under the strap of your tight dress and begins to slowly slide it down, exposing your plump tits.

"Mmm, you're so tender, kitty." The man says as he touches your breasts with his fingertips, and from this lightest touch, hot desire runs through your veins, and you unconsciously rub your arse on his cock, making Hongjoong let out the sexiest moan deep in his throat.

As your dress fell to your thighs and you stood half-naked in front of the huge window in Hongjoong's bedroom, your nipples tensed against the cool air in the room. You were displayed like a sparkling diamond, belonging to him alone now, and knowing that made your heart beat faster.

So far from the city and behind the high fence of his mansion, you had your doubts that anyone would be able to see you in such an inappropriate way, but you had the wish that it was possible. You wanted all the boys who'd been in love with you to be able to see this adult, breathtakingly handsome man fuck you so stupidly and so hard that none of them would ever be able to do it.

Hongjoong's hands cupped your boob in a possessive way, holding their heavy weight in the palms of his hands before he began to massage the soft flesh roughly. The silver of his jewelled rings scratched lightly across your skin, leaving reddened marks. Your breasts had always been quite sensitive, and you knew that you could easily come just by stimulating your nipples, but all your previous boyfriends had never paid much attention to that. But Hongjoong, hell, this man knew exactly how to treat you—how to make you whimper and beg.

"Please... Sir..." You moan loudly and eagerly as his fingers run expertly over your sensitive, swollen nipples, and the wetness between your legs becomes more and more intense. Your juices are seeping through the thin lace of your panties and are literally dripping out of your pussy, and you are desperate for Hongjoong to fill the aching void inside of you with his thick cock as quickly as possible. Your hand that holds the champagne glass is trembling and threatens to spill the golden sparkling liquid all over the marble floor, and Hongjoong notices it with a dark chuckle.

"Look at you, Princess; you're trembling all over. My sweet little kitty is so sensitive." His tongue sticks out to lick the long stripe on your neck, and you gasp in surprise as the soft touch is replaced by his sharp teeth, branding your skin.

But it's only a distraction, because the next second you're backed against the cold window glass, and Hongjoong's sensual lips finally meet yours in a scalding kiss. Oh shit. He growls in a low voice against your lips, one of his hands wrapped roughly around your neck, squeezing it with palpable pain, and the sound that comes out of you is something between a sob and a moan. Those soft lips are pressed tightly against yours in a kiss that is hungry and cruel. His mouth is insistent and demanding; every movement is a sign of experience and power - he doesn't cajole you - Hongjoong takes what is rightfully his.

His thumb burrows into the skin of your neck, turning the touch into a rough grip, and his tongue winds between your lips, compelling you to open your mouth for him.

Once you let it in, you shudder at the sensual, hot sensation as Hongjoong's tongue runs over your palate and your teeth, licking the inside of your cheeks and wrapping it around your tongue like a snake. God, you've never been kissed like this before. Usually it's a slobbering mess with lipstick smeared all over your face, but Hongjoong clearly knows how to make your knees buckle with just one kiss, and you're afraid to imagine what else that sinful mouth is capable of.

Now you're absolutely sure he's going to fuck your brains out.

You moan with wanton need as he presses his fingers harder and harder against your throat, and the glass of champagne slips from your hand and shatters into hundreds of tiny pieces of crystal, glittering with rainbow-coloured tears in the dimly lit bedroom.

"Hongjoong..." The moaning of his name was so desperate, so needy, and so full of lust and desire.

"Damn it, kitten. I love it when you moan my name, but I love it even more when you address me properly. Will you be able to do that for me, Princess?"

"Yes, Sir, I will."

Hongjoong kisses you with renewed fury, biting your lips almost to the point of blood. He's so passionate, so unique, tasting like dark chocolate with red pepper, and you want more and more; right now this gorgeous man is licking your mouth with his tongue and literally pushing it down your throat.

He kisses you like he's dying of thirst, and you're the only way to satiate that vital need. The saliva is running down your chin; it's wet and dirty, but you can't stop. You don't want to stop. Hongjoong's tongue practically fucks you in the mouth. Your hands reach for the collar of his designer shirt and start to unbutton it hastily. He laughs against your lips as you whimper, frustrated at not being able to make it right. Your fingers are trembling too much with excitement and impatience.

"Shhh, kitten, let me help you." He pulls his hands away from your body just so he can take off his jacket and shirt, tossing the expensive designer stuff aside with a dismissive air as if it were completely worthless, but the embroidered name labels you notice tell you otherwise.

Your touches on each other grow more desperate by the second; his skin is smooth and soft under your fingers, but underneath you can feel the strain of muscles that have been trained for years. This man is pure porn, as sexy as Hell itself, and you want to burn up in his flames without leaving a trace behind.

"Please... Sir." You catch your breath as Hongjoong's hand wraps around your neck once more. You are completely unaware of what you're asking him to do. The excitement and the lust are making your brain look like mush and are setting your skin on fire.

The only thing that matters to you right now is that Hongjoong keeps touching you. You want to feel him all over you. You feel like he's got every cell in your body burning, and only his touch can make you feel better.

At your pitiful plea, Hongjoong's feline eyes seemed to grow even darker and more predatory than they could have been, and that should have frightened you, but instead, lust coursed through your veins and a palpable shiver ran through your body. He was looking at you as if he wanted to eat you alive, and you were more than happy to let him do it.

"Oh, my beautiful little kitten. Are you going to be an obedient little girl for me?" Your pussy clenched, and you nodded your head affirmatively in response to his sultry purr.

"Yes, I will be an obedient girl for you, Sir." His scarlet, sensual lips curve insidiously into a wide, devilish grin as he kneels before you. Hongjoong slides the soft fabric of your dress down your legs until you are standing in front of him in nothing more than a lace thong. He wraps his arm around your ankle and then tosses it over his shoulder as well.

For some reason, this pose feels so obscene and dirty to you, and you blush to a deep red, especially when your gaze falls on his face. There is something unjustly handsome about his features, and it almost makes you want to cry. God, this man was beyond your comprehension.

Your hands get tangled in his platinum, perfectly styled hair, and you pull lightly on the soft strands as Hongjoong bites down on the soft skin on the inside of your thigh before his sharp nose nestles up against your pussy and he takes a slow, deep breath.

"God, your scent is so sweet, kitten." He breathed out. The sound of his voice caressed your skin like liquid silk. "But I bet your cunt tastes even sweeter." His dark, hungry eyes look up at you through long, fluffy lashes.

For the second time that night, you find yourself caught in his feline gaze, watching in fascination as Hongjoong leans his gorgeous face forward and licks a long, tantalising strip down the length of your cunt through the thin lace of your thong. The indirect touch of his tongue on your throbbing, swollen clit makes you let out a loud whimper, your knees almost buckling at the slight caress.

"I... sir..." You feel, rather than see, the curve of his beautiful, soft lips in a sly grin before he repeats his action, once again running his tongue along your clothed slit, this time deliberately flicking the sharp tip of his tongue over your clit. You tremble under the skilled touch of his mouth on your warm pussy as Hongjoong continues rubbing his tongue against the lacework of your thong, leaving thick and viscous trails of saliva on them.

"Look at you, kitten; your cunt is soaking wet. You're so juicy and so ready for me. Tell me, princess, what do you want from me?" Hongjoong whispers and pushes your panties aside. His fingers spread your labia, allowing the cool air of the room to cool your hot and sticky flesh slightly. Hongjoong's feline eyes are predatorily narrowing at the sight of your small, throbbing clit and the way your tight hole is trembling with the need to be filled with something. "Come on, kitty, tell me what you want so badly. Don't be shy." Hongjoong's sensual lips are parted by his heavy breathing, and he swallows hard as he sees your hole clenching at nothing and spurting a thick, viscous drop of your sweet essence. Damn it, it's literally dripping off of you.

He rolls his eyes and moans lewdly; his Adam's apple swayed, and the veins in his neck swelled with tension. The sound that he's making is almost pornographic. His hard-on twitches painfully as it presses hard against the fabric of his trousers, but Hongjoong ignores it for the moment.

"Hongjoong..." You whimper. Your whimper turns into a loud squeal as his fingers dig roughly into the tender flesh of your thigh, leaving stinging red marks from his nails on your skin, and he lets out a deep growl that you can feel in the folds of your cunt. It makes you realise what you've done, and you immediately try to correct it. "Sir, I'm so sorry. I'll be better."

"That's right, kitty, you should behave better, and I'm still waiting for your answer." Hongjoong's hot breath flows around your sensitive pussy with every word he says.

"Your mouth...I want your mouth and your tongue, sir...please..." Your thighs are trembling a little from all the attention that this luxurious man is giving you at the moment. "Please, sir, use your mouth. I want you to eat my cunt."

"Oh, my beautiful, precious girl, I promise you. I will take good care of you. So good that you won't even remember your name." Hongjoon purrs in a velvety voice as his dark and hungry eyes devour your pretty pink cunt. You look like an exquisite delicacy to him, and he is eager to taste your juicy sweetness.

You sob pitifully in response to his words, your body obviously enjoying the way he is addressing you as more and more viscous slime oozes out of your sensitive pussy. God, what this man is doing to you now is nothing compared to any of the men you've ever fucked in your life.

You can't hold back a loud, prolonged moan as he pulls you closer to his handsome face, pressing your soaking wet cunt to his greedy, scarlet lips. The tip of his tongue slides expertly between your folds before he runs it along the delicate edges of your small, tight hole, tasting the flesh of your cunt and the nectar-sweetness of your juices.

"Fuck, kitten," Hongjoon growled. "The taste of your pussy is divine to me." The man doesn't hesitate to plunge his gorgeous face even deeper, literally burying himself between your thighs, his sharp nose poking at your clit as he hungrily lavishes on your aching, oozing hole.

"Sir!" You squeal as the searing heat of his gorgeous mouth envelops your plump little pussy in its entirety.

Hongjoong pulled the small, reddened bud into his mouth and began to suck it roughly, milking your overly sensitive bunch of nerves with his gorgeous lips. When you sob and squirm in his grip, he lets go of your clit with a loud pop and instead licks another long strip along your throbbing cunt.

He moans wantonly and somehow desperately into your vagina, leaving dirty French kisses on your folds and making them even wetter and stickier, smearing your mucus and saliva all over your little mound. You pitifully moan as you begin to wiggle your hips in time with the relentless movements of his jaw, tugging at the thick strands of his platinum hair.

He sucks, licks, and caresses your pussy and brings you to a state of absolute bliss. Hongjoong is getting drunk on you and is completely intoxicated by your beautiful, creamy cunt.

You gasp loudly as Hongjoong spits a thick lump of saliva onto your pussy and you can feel some of the liquid running down your folds. He spoiled your cunt completely.

"I could eat that little cunt of yours all day long, kitten. You have such a delicious taste." Hongjoong moaned as his tongue licked greedily along the long strip from your crotch all the way to your clit. The taste of your sweet, creamy cunt on his tongue was practically driving him mad, and he let out a low, sultry purr that vibrated all the way to your centre.

It wasn't the first time someone had buried their face between your thighs, but damn, Hongjoong was something else.

Your sweet, pitiful moans and wheezes were music to his ears and only served to encourage him even more to continue his caresses. You sang so beautifully to him, trembling and wriggling in the firm, rough grip of his hands while his soft and experienced tongue flicked and fluttered over your sensitive clit.

Fuck, it felt so good—so damn good—that your vision became blurred with pleasure and sudden tears on the edges of your eyes, and your breathing became intermittent and heavy. You could already feel the knot of hot pleasure tightening inside of you; damn it, you were so close to cum.

Hongjoong wrapped his hot, wet mouth around your clitor once more and began to suck on the swollen, throbbing bud of yours, alternating between rough and gentle sucking.

God, this man definitely had the most amazing 'tongue technique' that you could ever have imagined. Hongjoong lifted his head for a moment, and the sight of his stunningly handsome, mature face almost brought you to a state of ecstasy: his lips swollen from the incessant caresses, all shiny and glassy with your excitement, feline eyes unfocused as if he were drunk, long eyelashes fluttering, saliva running down his cheeks and chin, mixing with your sticky sweetness.

It was overwhelming, and the pleasure shot through you like a bolt of lightning.

"Oh my God!" You let out a loud groan, throwing your head back and banging it lightly against the glass, but you don't even pay any attention to it; you are too engrossed in Hongjoong.

"Oh my kitten, that's right, you can call me God." Hongjoong laughed fiercely, and then you felt the tip of his tongue sliding into your small, narrow hole, and he started caressing your silky walls.

And then everything goes white for you. The stars explode behind your eyes, your hips shake uncontrollably as they clench around Hongjoong's head, your hands pull harder on the soft platinum strands of his hair, and the loud moaning of his name flies from your parted lips like a prayer song.

"Please, Hongjoong, don't stop. I'm begging you; don't stop." And he doesn't stop, prolonging your orgasm with quick and skillful movements of his tongue. He's lapping up your cum like it was the world's most exquisite dessert, smacking his lips and greedily swallowing all the viscous, sweet liquid that flows into his insatiable, devilish mouth.

You look so ethereal as you spray your sweet juices all over his face, and something deep down inside of him wants to feel it all over again.

"Please! Hongjoong..." You are begging him, but you don't know exactly what it is you are asking him to do. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, almost painful.

The tears have begun to flow freely down your face, leaving inky trails of mascara and shimmering glitter. Hongjoong thinks you resemble him a freshly bloomed flower, and when you come again, he can't help but want to see you underneath him—wriggling, heated, exhausted from hours of endless, animalistic, rough sex, cum on his cock again and again. Fuck, he'd milk every last drop out of you.

When you feel like you're about to pass out from the overstimulation, Hongjoong pulls away from your cunt. He lifts his dark, slanting eyes to you and licks his swollen, scarlet lips hungrily, using his tongue to pick up what remains of your slime. But it doesn't help much. The clear, sticky liquid runs down his chin and drips onto his chest. How does this man still look so luxurious and expensive, even after licking your cunt like his life depended on it?

Hongjoong plants a last hot kiss on the inside of your thigh before taking your leg off his shoulder and standing up. His hands are around you at once, dragging you against his powerful body. His skin is so smooth and so hot, and you have no hesitation in telling him that you'd like to lick him from head to toe.

"I want to taste you. Are you going to let me do that, sir?"

The corners of his lips lift, turning his smile into a true predatory grin, and everything inside of you clenches and quivers with a sharp anticipation that tingles your skin like shards of broken crystal.

"Sweet little kitty, aren't you the most precious thing in the world?" He says. Hongjoong takes your hand in his and presses it against his hot, thick erection. Fuck, even through the tight designer fabric of his trousers, you can feel how amazing and delicious his cock is going to be. Oh, he's going to totally destroy your cunt. "Would you like to taste my cock, Princess?" His eyebrow lifts in a teasing manner, and your fingers tighten on his erection.

"Yes, sir, I do. I want to taste your cock so badly. I'm such a slut for you. Give me the feel of your cock on my tongue. Please, sir." You look up at him through your lashes, running your tongue over your plump lower lip and his cock twitching under your palm.

"If you ask me so sweetly, kitten, who am I to refuse you? Just say the word, and I'll have the whole fucking world crawling at your feet."

He pulls you over to the luxurious bed, which is clearly too big to spend your nights alone, and makes himself comfortable on the edge of the soft mattress, pulling you down gently until you're kneeling between his legs. You spread your legs a little bit so that even in this position, Hongjoong can enjoy the sight of your glistening, dripping cunt. Traces of his saliva and your juices cover your silky folds and make him want to sink his face between your thighs once more.

Hongjoong throws his head back and lets out a deep, velvety moan, and your eyes sparkle as you see his gloriously sculpted abs tense and his Adam's apple tremble, and you want to leave hundreds of marks on that gorgeous, seductive throat. Belatedly, you notice the "NO1LIKEME" tattoo on his arm and think it suits him damn well.

"Come on, princess, show me what you can do with that beautiful, slutty mouth of yours." He says this as he unbuckles his belt.

You move impatiently closer to him as he finally pulls his cock out of his trousers, your eyes widening to see this thick, velvety length right in front of you. The head of his cock was reddened and swollen, and you swallowed hard from this vew. God, his cock is gorgeous, with thick, juicy veins covering the hard length, which is glistening wet from the pre-cum that is leaking out of it.

Your mouth fills with saliva, and you run your fingertips lightly over the entire length of his cock before you dip your head down to lick the wet head. The taste of him reminds you of the champagne you drank earlier and tingles your tongue. Outrageously expensive and ultra vulgar. You hunger for more. Your parted lips press against his cock, wrapping it in your hot breath as you run it down the length to the base.

Your tongue gives him a kitten's lick at the sensitive spot where his cock meets up with his heavy, cum-filled balls. The moan he makes as he does so goes straight to your pussy and your silky walls clench around nothing. The soft skin tingles under your tongue and makes his cock bounce up against your pretty face, and the sight of you licking his balls almost brings him over the edge.

Fuck, Hongjoong swears to himself that he's going to fucking destroy you.

"I see my kitten knows how to handle a cock, eh? But can you please me, Princess?" He hisses through his teeth as you wrap the palm of your hand around his cock and slap it against your protruding tongue a couple of times. Each time his cock pulls away from the soft surface of your slippery appendage, long strands of saliva stretch from your mouth to his glans.

"I'll try, sir..." The look in your wide, open eyes is completely innocent as you begin to slowly suck him into your hot and deliciously moist mouth. Hongjoong's dark cat-like eyes are fixed on your glistening ruby-red lips as they stretch around his thick dick in the most beautiful way.

The way you tilt your head and relax your jaw, allowing Hongjoong's massive cock to slide deeper into your throat, makes him crumple the silk sheet in his hand with such force that the knuckles on his fingers turn white. His other hand comes to rest on the back of your head and presses firmly, causing you to take his cock even deeper into your mouth. Your eyebrows furrow as the swollen head rests against the back of your throat, eliciting a guttural moan from him.

Unconsciously, you swallow, allowing Hongjoong's cock to slide easily down your throat, the veiny length of it stretching along the quivering walls of your larynx. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple jiggling to get your attention, and you repeat the motion, swallowing again, letting his cock slide deeper and deeper until your face is almost resting against his pubic.

"Fuck, that, my good girl." Hongjoong gasps, watching the blissful expression on your face as his entire cock basks sweetly between the tight, sticky walls of your throat. On your neck, he can easily see the outline of his length bulging beneath your thin skin. His fingers get tangled in your hair as he begins to pull your head up and down, fucking your mouth and causing saliva to drip from your lips onto your chin and down his thighs.

You moan around his cock; the heavy, hot weight on your tongue makes you feel so good. You've always loved having a cock in your mouth, but there was something about the fact that Hongjoong's cock was the one that was destroying your throat at that very moment that just made your head spin.

"Fuck, I haven't had a good cocksucker like you in a long time. Most girls start to whimper and choke, but you're just made for sucking cocks. Aren't you, pussycat?" Hongjoong said mockingly, his thrusts getting harder and harder as the most disgusting and lewd words poured out of his mouth like sweet, seductive poison.

You moaned affirmatively, agreeing with what he said, your wet, silky throat clinging to his cock with each powerful thrust. An almost evil laugh erupted from Hongjoong's chest as you made a strangled, gurgling sound around his cock after a particularly strong thrust of his hips. His balls slapped against your chin with a sticky, vulgar sound.

He ran his other hand through his platinum hair, brushing the silky strands away from his eyes as he tilted his head back.

"I can't wait to spoil your cunt. I want you to smear your cream all over my cock, or are you a squirter, pussycat?" He purred, and you fell into even more bliss from the vibrations of his golden voice on your skin.

The thought of him stretching out your cunt on his cock made your exhausted brain boil with euphoria. You let his cock out of your mouth with a loud slutty pop, saliva and pre-sperm running in long strands from your tongue to the tip of his cock.

"For you, I'll do both, sir."

"Could you be any more precious, Princess?" Hongjoong's fingers cupped your face and pressed your cheeks together. His eyes were filled with something animal, primal, and utterly savage. "Are you ready for me to fuck you, beautiful? Because I'll screw you so hard and long that you'll feel my cock in your pretty little pussy for days after. Those threatening words sounded like heaven to you, and I nodded your head impatiently.

His hand moved away from your face but soon came back in the form of a sharp slap that burned your soft, plump cheek and made you gasp for breath. Oh shit, Hongjoong's actions caused a thick stream of slime to pour out of your trembling hole and onto the marble floor. God, you loved the way he handled you, without this puppy sweetness that guys your age had or clumsy attempts to please you.

He was a man who knew exactly how to make your pussy flow for him.

"I... want you to fuck me stupid Make me your personal little slut, please, sir."

Satisfied with your words, Hongjoong grabbed your hair again. He lifts you up from the floor, the roots of your hair being pulled painfully tight and causing your delicate scalp to burn slightly. He throws you down on the bed with force; your arse is facing him, and your legs are dangling over the edge. You immediately assume a seductive pose, looking back at Hongjoong over your shoulder with the most innocent and angelic expression on your face, spreading your legs for him, and shaking your plump arse to tease him slightly.

The evil, almost demonic grin is back on Hongjoong's face when he sees what you have done. Your pussy is all swollen and pink, and for a second, he leans in to lick the delicate folds of your pussy once more. His tongue dives into your hole before he slaps you hard on your buttocks with both hands, mixing pain and pleasure and making you moan loudly as you rest your face against the silk sheets.

"Impatient little cunt, aren't you? But, I suppose, kitten, it must be so hard for you to satisfy that greedy hole when you're being fucked by inept, drooling puppies, isn't it? Is this the first time you've ever been fucked by someone older, kitty?"

"Yes, sir, I've never been fucked by an older man." You moan as you feel Hongjoong rub the head of his cock against the folds of your quivering pussy. You whimper in frustration; damn it, all you wanted was to feel him inside you. Your pussy throbs with every touch, and you desperately want to be filled. You sob loudly as the tip of his cock pokes at your clit, your labia wrapped beautifully and tightly around the soft, wet flesh.

"Please fuck me already. I want your cock so badly." You whimper, and he grins back. The sound of it is utterly vicious and diabolical.

"Now I can see it, kitten. You've never been played with like this before, have you? Those boys just stuck their cocks in your hole and used you as a toy for their own pleasure, didn't they?" He slapped his cock against your wetness before he wrapped his hands around your thighs and pressed them together. This new position made the throbbing of your pussy even more intense.

"No one has ever played me right, sir; please show me how it's done. Destroy me..." You whimpered, pulling your arse back to try and get his cock inside. Oh, he just couldn't resist your words. You were exactly what he had always wanted for himself.

"Well, then you should get ready, kitty, because this is going to be one hell of a ride." Hongjoong spits on your pussy to get more lube on it, as if you weren't already an absolute wet mess for him, and he positions himself in front of your narrow entrance. With a deep growl, he begins to push his cock into you, your wet walls sliding apart easily for him as he does so.

The delicate edges of your little hole burned from stretching as the head of his cock fully penetrated you, but you welcomed the sensation with a loud moan of pleasure. Centimetre by centimetre, your warm, sweet pussy engulfed his cock, bringing the two of you to a state of euphoric bliss. The silky, slippery walls of it clung to his thick girth, almost preventing him from moving at all.

Your cunt was so tight and narrow around him that it made Hongjoong hiss and gasp for air. You moaned loudly underneath him. The bossy position that he was holding you in prevented you from moving your hips, leaving you with no choice but to take what he was giving you. Never in your life have you been so intensely aroused. Your lust for this stunningly mature man was simply inhuman.

"Oh fuck..." Hongjoong exhaled as he entered you all the way, his hips pressed tightly against your plump buttocks, as the head of the dick was buried in your cervix. You felt so full, so satiated, and already close to orgasming just from the way he spread you apart. The walls of your cunt contracted and quivered, and your swollen clit throbbed like never before. He hasn't done anything to you, and you're already so fucked up.

Hongjoong grabbed hold of your soft hips and dug his fingers into the juicy flesh, pulling you along the entire length of his cock before he pushed you back against him, slowly adapting you to him. You were so tight and tiny, or rather, he was so big, that even with so little movement and a great deal of mucus and saliva, the friction was palpably sharp.

As soon as you got used to him, Hongjoong didn't wait a second before he started to move. From the very beginning, his pace was sharp and fast. His hips slammed into your arse with great force, and each time his thick, wiry cock entered you all the way to the base of your cervix, the swollen head slamming into your cervix. In time with his thrusts, your plump, heavy tits bounced.

The loud sound of his balls slapping against your plump arse and the noisy squelching of your wet cunt that echoed throughout the room made you sob loudly and pitifully.

"Your pussy is sucking me so deliciously, my little kitten. You are so hungry for my cock, my sugar princess, and I will give you exactly what you want so badly. I am going to feed you properly with my cum. I'm going to give my pretty little kitty so much milk that it will be pouring out of you for days and days." Hongjoong's moan was deep and velvety. His breathing became heavy, and his voice became hoarse and sultry, like a wild predatory cat purring, as he quickened his pace to fuck you harder and deeper. "I'm going to breed you, kitten. I'll make you so beautiful and swollen with my children."

Hongjoong's dirty words turned you on even more, and you knew if you touched your clit even a little, you'd have your cream all over his dick in a matter of seconds. As if reading what you thought, Hongjoong's fingers slid down and began to circle your swollen bud. He drew intricate patterns all over your clit, sending jolts of hot pleasure through your body as he did so.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your tongue flicked out of your mouth, and a look of pure bliss crossed your face as Hongjoong continued to fuck you mercilessly.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum, please, sir." Your viscous fluid began to flow harder down your inner thighs and Hongjoong's hand as you approached your orgasm.

"Already? You were really desperate for my cock, you pretty little slut. Cum on my cock, kitty." Hongjoong laughed. He leaned forward, his muscular, sweaty chest pressed against your back, his magnificent hips moving smoothly and powerfully as he continued to mercilessly fill your pussy. In this new position, the head of his cock is now rubbing against your G-spot in a delicious way.

Your orgasm is raging inside of you like an all-consuming flame, destroying every conscious part of you and leaving you with no bones. You writhe beneath him, your legs shaking violently as you let out a loud scream. Just as you promised him, your pussy covered all over his cock with your cream, Hongjoong's name comes off your lips like a mantra, and you swear you saw God for a second. You don't think you'll ever reach that level of bliss again. It was truly intoxicating. Your limbs turned to jelly as your orgasm began to melt; you were almost drooling all over the silk sheets from the intense high.

You don't even notice it when it happens. Hongjoong suddenly leaves your used, squeezing cunt, and the next moment you are lying on your back with your legs around his slutty waist and his cock deep inside you.

"I want to have a look at your face when you come again. This time I'll make you squirt, kitten." Hongjoong's pace slows down; it becomes deep and hard; it's sharp, short thrusts that make his cock practically penetrate your cervix. You feel like he's completely remodelling your insides at the moment.

Hongjoong continues to fuck you, and the stimulation becomes almost unbearable for you, bringing you to the edge of pleasure once again. Hongjoong starts to move erratically and becomes careless as he chases his own orgasm. He leans down to your ear, breathing wetly and huskily, his hard chest pressed against your tits, your sensitive nipples rubbing against his heated and sweat-slick skin, bringing you even more pleasure. Your pink buds are practically tingling with the stimulation.

"I will fill you with my sperm, and your pussy will swallow it all." He purred, the sound of his moaning filling your ears. As he fucks you into oblivion, Hongjoong catches your gaze, his cat-like eyes fixed on you.

Hongjoong's gorgeous face contorts with pleasure; his hips twitch, and his face is pressed against your neck to muffle his animal growl. His cock is pulsating hotly inside your silky walls, and as he makes another deep thrust inside you and the head of his cock slips into your cervix for a second, your orgasm hits you like a freight train.

"Hongjoong, oh my God... It's so much. I can't... I can't take it anymore." You start to come, huge jets of liquid splashing around his thick cock as he continues to fuck you like there's no tomorrow.

"Kitten, god damn it!" The man growls, and you feel the hot, thick sperm staining in the white of your tender walls. There's so much of his cum that the viscous, milky liquid seeps out past the point where his cock has plugged your tiny hole and stains the inside of your thighs. His teeth sink into your shoulder, almost tearing through your skin and almost to bleed, until he relaxes and pulls himself away from you. Hongjoong comes out of your tortured, swollen pussy and you go completely limp, too weak to move.

"Damn, look at that hungry little cunt of yours swallowing up all my cum. That's my pussycat." Hongjoong purrs contentedly, showering you with praise as he watches your pussy twitch and the walls clench around the sudden void that his cock has left behind.

"Let's get you cleaned up, kitty." The man says this to you as he gets out of bed and walks to the dressing room that is connected to his bedroom. When he comes back, he is dressed in a floor-length black silk dressing gown, and in his hands he is holding one of his luxurious, classic shirts. You can barely manage to get out of bed; your legs are trembling, and cum is dripping out of your pussy. Hongjoong laughs as he picks you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom, where he sets up the shower for you. It was probably one of the best showers you've ever had. Maybe it was the incredibly expensive skin care products, or the water being the perfect temperature, or just the fact that Hongjoong fucked you to heaven and back.

But you're safe to say that you're going to feel this night on your body for the next few days.

Hongjoong's hot hands glide over your body, smearing the soft, fluffy foam of the incredibly sweet shower gel, and you melt under his touch.

"Will you stay with me, love?" He whispers in your ear.

"I'll stay with you as long as you want me to, Hongjoong."

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You slowly climb out of Hongjoong's luxurious bed and try not to wake up the man who is sleeping peacefully with your actions. Hell, even when he's sleeping, he looks like a fucking work of art, and you almost want to go back to bed and wake him up with a quality blowjob, but you decide to revisit the idea later, after you've made breakfast for both of you. You flinch slightly as you move. The sweet pain in your pussy reminds you of what happened last night. Damn it, Hongjoong really did fuck you incredibly well.

It's surprisingly easy to navigate his huge house, and you quickly find a spacious kitchen bathed in golden sunlight, only to freeze in the hallway, not daring to move.

If yesterday you thought that Hongjoong was the most handsome man you had ever seen in your life, then when you look at the man who is now sitting at the dining table, relaxed and drinking coffee, you think that you have met God himself. Oh, damn. Unconsciously, you gasp for breath, which gets his attention, and when your eyes meet, you swear that your heart stops beating.

"Oh, you are awake already. Did you have a good night's sleep, my love?" His voice caresses your skin like a thousand kisses, and you are terribly ashamed to admit it, but sweet moisture begins to gather between your legs. God, what's happening now?

"Yes, I... Yes, that was good." You stammer under the weight of this gorgeous man's dark, almost hypnotic gaze, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

Your insecurities and embarrassment seem to amuse him, as the man lets out a dark, amused chuckle before his sensual, plump lips curl up into one of the sexiest smiles you've ever seen.

"I'm glad; sometimes Hongjoong is not the nicest host. He's a bit of a grumpy cat. You know?"

His casual words confuse you even more. And the fact that his eyes are literally devouring your almost naked body doesn't make it any easier. You're still wearing only Hongjoong's shirt, and it's decent enough to cover your plump buttocks, but not decent enough to be in the company of a strange man when you're not wearing underwear.

"I think I have to go..." You almost whisper as you watch the man's eyes go dark as his gaze lingers on the bruises and hickeys that Hongjoong has left on your neck.

"Oh no, darling, I don't think so. I think you should definitely stay for breakfast." He gets up from his seat and slowly starts to walk towards you, and you feel as if the air in the room has suddenly become heavier and thicker. You almost suffocate. God, you feel like you are being hunted.

"This is not the best idea; excuse me..." And then you realise that you never bothered to ask the name of this luxurious, grown-up man. A man who looks as if he had been the star of a fashion show just a few minutes ago.

He seems to realise this too. Because the next second he utters words that turn your whole world upside down.

"I'm sorry, I think I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Seonghwa, and last night you fucked my husband, Kitten".

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cavillscurls · 17 days ago

Note

Thinking about olderboyfriend!joel and reader celebrating all the holidays. Their first Valentine’s Day, their first thanksgiving together, their first Christmas together

this ask is so old, but i thought i’d answer given the nature of today 🥹💌… i don’t have a lot, but here’s some thoughts.

older!boyfriend joel masterlist

you met in the summer, a long ways before that holiday which always seemed to carry a heavier weight than it needed to. this connotation of perfection that hadn’t existed even in the best of your relationships.

but this one is the best. not one of, but the best. and you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that, at times, it does feel perfect.

and you feel good. you feel certain. you have for a while now, but with the impending holiday that always felt more like dread than love, there’s a surge of reassurance when that usual doom never settles in.

you both agreed no gifts. funny enough, it was joel who put up a fight on this front. you could see him practically seething in his shoes, a crinkle in his brow and a pout on his lips as he bargained just one, you don’t gotta get nothin’, and there’s no guilt—just one.

but you shook your head and stood your ground; you would much rather spend the occasion splurging on dinner and drinks, an experience to share between the two of you.

he relented. even agreed to wear a suit—all black, and fuck, if that didn’t make you want to jump his bones on first sight—gelled back his curls, and wore that expensive cologne he saves for special occasions.

he shows up that night thirty-minutes before your reservation, and you’re popping a hand on your hip as soon as you open the door and find him standing there with a bouquet. a dozen red roses.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you huff.

he shrugs. “this ain’t a gift. it’s flowers,” he says, trying to play coy, but you can tell he’s rather proud of himself.

how are you supposed to argue with that?

you accept them, albeit a bit reluctantly, and bring them to your nose with a generous sniff. he’s eyeing you, all of you, the deep crimson dress you’ve chosen leaving little to the imagination. just the reaction you were hoping for.

“thank you,” you tell him, and he reaches out to place a hand at the small of your back, pulling you into his chest so he can lean down and press his lips to your ear.

“you’re welcome, baby,” he rasps, sending a shiver through you, and places a kiss on the side of your head.

dinner is tasty and decadent, made even finer by the company you keep. you split a bottle of red, and make room for dessert—freshly dipped chocolate-covered strawberries. he makes a show of leaning across the table to feed you the first bite, and you laugh so hard, you snort, the steady thrum of wine through your veins keeping you both buzzed and gleeful.

it’s starting to snow when you call a car from the restaurant. he offers an extension to the evening—catch a late showing of the rom-coms you know he can’t stand, but he’d tolerate (and has tolerated) for you. but the air is cold, and he’s so warm, and you’re feeling greedy. you want him all to yourself. that’s all you’ve ever really wanted from this, anyway. him.

you’re in his bed later that night, in his clothes, after he’s given you his real gift—satiating your needs, the desires he understands so well. you’re on your tummy, and he’s on his side, peacefully watching the path of his fingers that trace gentle shapes up and down your spine. you feel your eyelids grow heavy, shutting every few moments.

“hey,” he whispers at one point, voice low with fatigue.

“hm?” you murmur, raising your brows but not quite mustering the energy to look at him.

“i love you.” and it’s not the first time he’s said it, but it’s no less impactful. an iron rod to your chest, beaming and glowing from the inside out. “you know that, right?”

slowly, you open your eyes, and what you find turns the heat inside your belly up ten fold. he isn’t looking for reassurance or scoping out doubt. those are long gone with the passage of time. he just wants you to know—really know. hear him, and accept it for all it’s worth.

everything, really.

“i know it,” you whisper back, and a sleepy little grin erupts on his cheeks. you can’t help yourself. you lean forward and up, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, and muttering against them: “i love you.”

he pulls you onto his chest, then. letting you smother him with your weight and wrapping his arms tightly around you. good. steady. real. perfect.

maybe valentine’s day isn’t so bad after all.

#happy v day 💌#older!boyfriend joel #joel miller imagine #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader

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moroniccats · 12 days ago

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The sign of four starts with Holmes injecting cocaine, feeding his addiction and upsetting Watson, who both knows the consequences better than most, but has recently had a brother who died from addiction.

He proceeds to ridicule and insult him about his writing, and then, while not maliciously, very callously talks about Watson’s recent loss.

There are a few things to take note of here:

Holmes and Watson had been living together for some time, and Holmes is no longer the perfect roommate he tried to be.

He’s lashing out at Watson because he’s under-stimulated, and over the years I’m sure the drugs no longer give him the same high.

It shows us an almost cruel side to his nature that wasn’t as prominent in the first book.

I wonder if Holmes just isn’t used to having friends, and therefore boundaries are difficult to navigate.

But this changes when Mary Morstan enters the picture.

I firmly believe that Watson’s instant attachment to her is partially because he’s hurting, and feeling unappreciated. And Holmes seems to recognise this, because his first instinct is to warn him about the dangers of women and falling in love. When that clearly doesn’t work, he switches tactics.

Throughout the rest of the book, Holmes is far more amiable, even kind to Watson. He includes him in investigating whenever he can, praises him, plays him lullabies on the violin…

But by the end he’s realized that it won’t work, and that Watson will marry and leave him anyway.

So he turns back to the cocaine bottle.

And that’s how the story ends.

WHAT THE FUCK WHY IS THIS SO SAD?????

#sherlock holmes #acd holmes #acd canon #acd sherlock #acd sherlock holmes #dr watson #john watson #john h watson #dr john watson #dr john h watson #acd watson #acd dr watson #sign of four #mary morstan

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rue-isabelle · 3 months ago

Text

Aphrodite of Formula 1, Part 3

The paddock was no longer just a workplace—it was a battlefield of emotions. Yn’s calm demeanor and kindhearted nature had captured the hearts of every man on the grid, single or taken. She had no idea about the storm of feelings she left in her wake, but the tension between the drivers was palpable.

And with the bombshell news that Lewis would be leaving Mercedes for Ferrari, the frenzy only escalated.

Lewis

Lewis waited for Yn outside the hospitality area, leaning casually against the wall. When she appeared, juggling her tablet and several papers, he stepped forward, his warm smile catching her attention.

“Yn,” he said smoothly, “do you have a minute?”

“For you? Always,” she replied with a smile.

He guided her to a quieter corner, his hand resting gently on the small of her back. “Listen, I’ve got something important to talk about. You’ve heard the news, right?”

She nodded. “You’re going to Ferrari. Congratulations, Lewis. They’re lucky to have you.”

“They’d be even luckier if you came with me,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

Yn blinked, stunned. “Me? At Ferrari?”

He smiled, placing both hands gently on her waist, his thumbs brushing lightly against her sides. “You’re the best at what you do. And I’d feel a whole lot better knowing I had you on my team.”

“Lewis, I—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Think about it.” His hands squeezed her waist tighter before letting go.

Before she could reply, he stepped back, his gaze intense. “No pressure,” he added, though his expression suggested otherwise.

Yn’s heart raced as she watched him walk away, his confidence leaving her breathless.

Lando

Lando couldn’t get through a single day without seeing Yn. Her presence had become a necessity, a fix he craved. But as her job kept her moving constantly, he needed to ensure they “coincidentally” crossed paths.

That’s where the AirTags came in.

Yn had no idea that nearly every item she owned—a handbag, a water bottle, even her laptop case—had a discreet tracker hidden inside, courtesy of Lando.

“Yn!” Lando exclaimed, rounding a corner with perfect timing as she exited a meeting. “I didn’t expect to see you here!”

She laughed. “Hi, Lando. What a surprise.”

“It’s fate,” he said, grinning.

He casually walked with her, keeping the conversation light, but his heart raced as he basked in her attention.

At night, Lando’s obsession took on a different form. In his bedroom, one wall was entirely dedicated to her. Photos of Yn smiling, laughing, working—captured both candidly and from afar—covered every inch.

One evening, his trainer stopped by unexpectedly.

“Lando,” he began, trailing off when he noticed the wall. “Mate, what the hell is this?”

Lando turned, unfazed. “Art,” he replied simply, his eyes fixed on one particular photo of Yn.

Franco

Franco had a different tactic: he showered Yn with affection and introduced her to the richness of his culture. He found her during lunch and waved her over to his table, where he’d set up a spread of traditional Argentine dishes.

“What’s all this?” Yn asked, her eyes lighting up.

“This,” Franco said with a charming smile, “is a little piece of Argentina. Sit, sit.”

She sat, and Franco immediately began serving her, explaining each dish with pride. “This is empanada criolla, and this—ah, careful, it’s spicy—is chimichurri. You have to try it with this.”

He picked up a small piece of empanada and held it to her lips. “Here, taste.”

Yn hesitated but opened her mouth, allowing him to feed her.

“How is it?” he asked, his eyes locked on hers.

“Delicious,” she admitted, smiling.

Franco leaned closer, his lips kissing the corner of her lips. “You had some sauce here,” he murmured before kissing her again on the cheek, lingering there for a moment.

Yn’s cheeks turned pink. “Franco…”

“I’ll make you fall in love with Argentina,” he promised, his voice low. “And maybe… me too.”

Fernando

Fernando prided himself on being Yn’s rock. While the other drivers acted like lovesick teenagers, he was her guiding figure, the one she turned to for advice.

One evening, Yn found him in his motorhome, reviewing strategy notes.

“Fernando, do you have a minute?” she asked, poking her head in.

“For you? Always,” he replied, motioning for her to sit.

She explained her dilemma about a work decision, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Fernando listened intently, his hand resting on her knee to ground her.

“Yn,” he said softly, “you’re overthinking. Trust your instincts. They’ve never failed you.”

She nodded, her tension easing under his steady gaze.

As she stood to leave, Fernando reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re too good for this chaos,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Those boys don’t deserve you.”

Yn laughed lightly. “You’re too protective.”

“Someone has to be,” he replied, his hand lingering on her shoulder as he guided her out.

---

The paddock had become a minefield of stolen glances, jealous stares, and escalating tensions. Each driver had his own way of vying for Yn’s attention, but none could truly claim her heart—not yet, anyway.

Yn, blissfully unaware of the storm she had created, continued her work with a smile, unknowingly leaving a trail of broken hearts and unspoken confessions in her wake.

The question wasn’t if she’d notice—it was when. And when she did, the paddock would never be the same.

Part 1. Part 2

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lando norris x reader #franco colapinto x reader #fernando alonso x reader

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pearlessance · 14 days ago

Text

Killshot, Baby! —part one

summary: nanami kento is a meticulous man; calm, stable, and precise. a perfect antithesis to your messy, impulsive ways. the longer you're around him, the more you're convinced you'll never agree on anything. well…except for the way you fuck.

pairing: brat tamer!nanami x fem!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, 10 year age gap (reader is 18, nanami is 28), fingering, dirty talk, pussy pronouns, use of 'little girl' as a pet name, cum eating, semi-public, praise, size kink, hair pulling, brat taming, reader has added backstory to progress the plot

wc: 3.8k

note: this is my first ever jjk fic pls be niceee :') not sure how many parts this will be, rn I'm thinking like 5-8 but we will see!! heavily influenced by the song killshot by magdalena bay!! tysm for reading i love u <3

[masterlist] [read on AO3!]

Places like this make your skin crawl.

Even knowing you need to assimilate yourself to the glitz and glamour of it all, you just can’t shake the turning of your stomach as you watch drops of top-shelf liquor spill over the rims of glass tumblers. Liquid splashes that cost more than a day’s pay for someone less well-off than every person in that room.

When you step out onto the balcony, the air feels icy against your too-warm skin. The city lights twinkle in the distance, disturbing the black of night and shining too brightly to grant you the luxury of seeing the stars.

You wonder what time it is, wonder if curfew still applies for an event like this. And if it does, you’ll surely catch a reprimanding from Yaga in the morning even if Gojo takes the brunt of it. Maki’s incessant questioning that’s sure to come when you step back into the dormitories might be an even worse fate, though.

“It gets to be a bit overwhelming, doesn’t it?” His smooth voice startles you.

Overwhelming is a cordial way of putting it, you think. “Suffocating might be a better word.”

He huffs. Not quite a laugh, but a sound of agreement nonetheless. The shadows in the dark corner of the balcony keep you from getting a good look at him. You can only make out a handful of features—a few strands of blonde hair that have gone rogue from the combed, slicked-back style, falling rebelliously in front of his warm eyes. The tan slacks he wears look expensive and pressed, a stark contrast to the wrinkles in his white button-up. The sleeves are rolled casually to his elbows, and the moonlight reflects off the crystal face of his watch.

There’s something about him that feels…familiar. A strange sort of sameness. And despite the way he exudes the same lavish energy that everyone else at the party does, you can’t help but feel like he’s somehow different than they are. Maybe it’s because you’re seemingly the only two who are struggling to find enjoyment in the reception.

“That bad, hm?” He stands from his seat in the corner and joins you at the railing. Even bent over with his forearms on the stainless steel edge he looms over you; a powerful, menacing presence. A man with an iron grip on control. “Which part, exactly, feels so asphyxiating?”

His voice sends a shiver down your spine. But maybe it’s just the chill in the air. “All of it,” you admit. “The gluttony. The carelessness. Everyone is so out of touch with reality. It’s like they become so absorbed with all the extravagance, they forget most people struggle to make ends meet. Ten minutes out of the city a mother is working eighty hours a week and still having difficulty feeding her children, and they’re drinking bottles of whiskey that cost more than she gets paid in a month.”

Your gaze focuses on his long fingers as he interlocks them together. “You don’t think those with money deserve to enjoy it?”

When you roll your eyes it feels involuntary, like second nature. “There’s a difference between enjoying it and flaunting it. I’ve never met Nanami Kento, but he seems like a real asshole.”

This time he does laugh. And the smile that stretches across his face, revealing a row of perfectly straight, pearly white teeth, is nothing short of debilitating. He’s beautiful, achingly so. And the deep, baritone sound of his laughter stirs something strange and warm in your chest.

You continue, asking, “How much do you think it cost him to host something like this? I mean, all together. The drinks, the food, the pay for the waiters, all of it. Even that ridiculous fucking ice sculpture.” He’s still grinning, and as you animatedly speak you can feel the heavy weight of his stare on the side of your face. It makes your cheeks burn. “My guess? Two million yen. Easily.”

“That seems a bit much,” he says. “It’s not that extravagant, is it? It’s being hosted in his home, after all.”

“Yeah, his penthouse,” you say with disdain. “What’s your guess, then? How much do you think was spent on this asshole’s little soiree?”

He seems to contemplate for several seconds, turning his head to the view of the city. His profile is breathtaking; all chiseled jaw and Greek nose and lush lips. You have to fight the urge to reach out and touch him, to feel the barely-there stubble along his cheek beneath your fingers. “One and half million,” he says.

This time you’re the one who laughs. It’s the first time you’ve done so all night, despite being promised otherwise. “As if that’s any better,” you say. “If he donated even half of what he spent to host a party like this, it could change someone’s life.”

“I suppose that’s true. But maybe you’re wrong about the reason he’s gone to such extremes. Maybe it’s less about flaunting it and more about filling his home with people. Giving them an excuse to come here.”

“Why would anyone want this many people in their home? Making a mess, pouring their money down the drain? It’s not like this kind of luxury comes easily. He might be an asshole but he’s certainly a hard-working one. Why blow it on something as insignificant as a party?”

His answer comes quickly. “Loneliness.”

He says it with such conviction it’s as if he’s speaking from experience. And you suppose he very well could be. Standing in that crowd, not knowing a single soul apart from the one who’d dragged you here and promptly abandoned you, speaking empty words to people who won’t remember your name tomorrow—it had made you feel lonely, too. Lonely enough to step outside, to find comfort in the quiet as the beautiful man beside you had. “Maybe he should get himself a girlfriend,” you suggest.

“Maybe he should.” The lightheartedness returns to the conversation the second he smiles at you. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“That’s because I never gave it to you.” Your teasing seems to please him.

His stare is intense, flickering between your eyes and the clear gloss on your lips. You want him to lean in and taste the cherry flavor. “What should I call you, then?”

You shrug, turning to face him fully, leaning against the balcony’s steel railing. It brings you just a little closer to him. Close enough to inhale the woodsy scent of his cologne. It makes you feel dizzy, makes you feel drunk. You say, “Whatever you want.” And mean it.

This is dangerous, you know. Standing out here alone with an older man, a stranger to you. Away from any semblance of safety. He could do anything to you right now and you’d have no way of fighting him off. He’s too big, too strong. And the worst part, you think, is that you’d just let it happen. That you wouldn’t even mind.

He reaches out and touches your cheek—a gentle, respectful caress. Despite the innocence, it leaves nothing but sinful thoughts swirling in your head. You lean into his touch, trying to ignore the way goosebumps rise over your skin.

“You’re a strange little girl,” he mutters. His voice slides through your center, sultry and captivating. You’re not sure if he’s complimenting you or not. It feels kind. Affectionate, even. But you can’t fully decide because your brain begins to short-circuit, hung up on the way the words little girl sounds in his tantalizing mouth.

“Strange is better than boring,” you tell him.

“You could never be boring.” There’s that conviction again. So sure of himself. Confident, steadfast, and solid. You wonder silently what that must be like.

Since learning you housed a rare ability to use cursed energy, there hasn’t been a single moment where you’re sure of who you are. But…right now, feeling the heat radiate off his skin, you think maybe you know what you want. “You don’t know me.”

“I want to, though.” The response is quick. Final. He presses his palm flat against your jaw, cradling your face, and slides it slowly to the nape of your neck. The friction feels intense. Heightened.

Your breath comes slow and labored, a conscious effort now. And you figure if he can touch you, that you can touch him back. But it’s less for enjoyment and more for necessity as you place a hand against his chest, feeling the softness of his cotton button-up beneath your palm. The way he looks at you makes your knees tremble. And he’s the solid, magnetic force you need to keep yourself upright.

“Pretty dress,” he says. It’s revealing, more so than you’d realized in the dressing room. Low cut and shimmery and pale pink—your favorite color. His warm eyes pierce yours as his free hand comes to your hip, resting against the textured sequins. “Expensive. Indulgent.”

He’s trying to call your bluff, you know. But your dislike for over extravagance is sincere and though he’s shaken your once calm equilibrium, it satisfies you to know he’ll never dissuade you in this singular thing. “I didn’t buy it.”

“No?” He fists the fabric, pulling the already too-short edge up higher. “Who did, then? Your boyfriend?”

My teacher. You don’t have the nerve to say it, though. Don’t have the words, patience, or breath to explain that Gojo gave you his shiny black card and insisted you find something worthy of tonight’s event. You find evasion an easier line of conversation. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

He fists more of the fabric, hiking it higher—inch by devastating inch. The air is cool against your exposed thigh, but it’s hard to notice. You can’t see or hear or feel anything but the way his deft fingertips stroke the lace edge of your panties, a teasing caress. “How…fortunate.”

Your pulse rings in your ears. Warmth builds between your thighs with the promise of his touch that seems to be all-knowing and omnipresent. He presses into the softness just beneath your navel and you can feel the pressure down to your toes. His presence is somehow even more smothering than the energy inside, but this is…different. Hot.

Every nerve ending in your body flares on edge when he slides his hand between your legs, the pad of his middle finger ghosting over your center. Your lips part and your eyelids flutter closed. Separated by only a thin layer of lace, you can feel the heat of him and have to fight the urge to rock your hips against his hand. When he speaks, the words come out strained. “I need to know that you want this.”

There’s never been anything you’ve wanted more, you think. And you decide to tell him, to let the honesty bleed through, but then he’s moving his hand again, caressing your pussy with deft fingers. He does it with intention—a meticulous discovery of your body, preserving it forever in memory. It's such an intimate touch that it leaves you feeling open, chafed raw. All you can manage is a meek but resolute nod of your head in answer.

But it’s not enough for him. With such decorum, he says, “Use your words, sweetheart. Please.” It’s so polite it makes you ache.

You have to crane your neck just a little to look him right in the eye, but you do it anyway because you want him to see the truth. Want him to see just how bad you mean it when you say, “I want you.”

The corners of his lips turn up into a sinful smirk. And before you have time to catch your breath, before you can process just how unbearably handsome he looks with the city lights reflected in his honeyed hair, he’s slipping his hand into your panties and finding out for himself just how bad you want him.

He separates your folds and finds your clit with expert precision, already wet and messy for him. Everywhere, all at once—he’s everywhere. His other hand rests firmly on the back of your neck, his body pressing against yours. He’s all you can see, all you can smell, all you can taste. The moment he begins circling the throbbing bud your spine arches, pleasure filling you with each calculated movement. “Oh, god.”

You spread your legs further for him, allowing even more access. The steel of his silver watch is biting cold against the too-warm inside of your thighs, the only sensation keeping you tethered to the Earth.

But any attempted salvation is shattered to pieces the moment he presses a finger into you, curling upwards as if he has known your body for far longer than just the night. “Fuck—”

“Language,” he quickly chastises. He slides his hand on the back of your neck into your hair and pulls, forcing you to stare up at him. It is so nearly like punishment, except he adds another finger inside you to join the first which feels much closer to a reward. The stretch is bliss, and you can feel your slick dripping down his thick knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper. And you’re not even sure why, but an apology just feels right. Feels good. But not as good as it feels when he presses hard against that soft spot inside you, quickly finding a rhythm that has sweat beading at your hairline. “I’m sorry,” you say again, because all other words have vacated your brain.

He quickens the pace, fingers drawing out obscene moans from your chest. You wish he would kiss you. You want to feel the pressure of his lips against yours, want to taste the inside of his mouth. But you can’t bring yourself to ask for it, can’t bring yourself to do anything but watch him watch you.

There’s this look in his eye that makes your heart stutter in your chest. Like he holds something more than divine in his hands. As if you’re not just some girl at a party but some god-like creature instead. You feel warm under his intensity. Burned.

And when he speaks, his voice is so sultry and deep that you whimper. “S’that feel good? Right there?”

“Yes, yes—please, don’t stop.” You don’t even recognize your own voice. Can barely hear the way you beg for him over the ringing in your ears, permeated only by the wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you.

It’s rehearsed. Practiced. It takes just seconds before you start to feel yourself pull tight, straining against the unforgiving pace he sets. You're a gasping, desperate mess, and he seems to find such joy in it. Grinning down at you, forearm flexing in exertion, veins protruding from his wrist. He curls his fingers inside of you and positions his thumb so that it passes over your throbbing clit with each stroke. “You’re so pretty,” he says. “Do you know how pretty you are, little girl?”

“I—God—I’m gonna cum, I—”

“Yeah,” he coos, tone affectionate and tender. “I know it. Can feel this sweet pussy squeezing me so tight. She needs it bad, doesn't she? Hm?”

He thrusts his fingers into you hard—once, twice, and then your thighs begin to shake. Your fists tighten, knuckles paling as you grip the soft fabric of his button-up. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs and then it’s all happening at once, pleasure exploding beneath your skin.

You bite back your moans, trying not to think about the throng of the party just inside. Your entire body vibrates beneath his unyielding movements, slick walls squeezing and pulsing around his thick fingers. You don’t tell him but it’s like he just knows. “There you go,” he whispers, pressing his lips into your hair. “That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it. You’re doing so well. Let it happen, jus’ let it happen.”

Earth-shattering. Liquid pools in the palm of his hand and trickles down the inside of your thighs, soaking through the lace fabric, but he keeps you upright on trembling legs. Fucks you through it with those magical fingers of his, and doesn’t stop until tears prick the corners of your eyes. He slows, massaging that sacred spot inside of you just a few times more before slowly sliding his fingers out. When he holds them up between you, shiny and glistening with your slick, you can’t fight off the way your cheeks burn.

It isn’t until this precise moment that you realize he’s breathing hard, the only chink in his armor of composure thus far. In all your life, in all your experience, it’s never felt quite like that.

Yet still, even more satiated than you’ve ever been, you feel your clit throb as he presses his middle and ring finger into his mouth and sucks them clean. “I…” You what?

Words evade you. You want to tell him how good it was, want to get on your knees and repay the favor, want to tell him your name. But his stare is intense and intimidating and—

The balcony door slides open and you both move quickly—stepping away from each other, smoothing the wrinkles out of your clothes.

Your heart races behind your sternum as Gojo steps out, all-black suit pristine save for the unbuttoned coat. “Nanami! I was just coming to find you to introduce you to our very special student, but it seems you’ve found her all on your own.”

Nanami?

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him wipe the hand that was inside you seconds ago on the back of his slacks. “Satoru,” he greets cooly.

Suddenly the balcony feels more suffocating than the unruly party inside. For a single second, the thought crosses your mind that you could jump right off the edge of the railing without a moment’s regret.

Gojo shoves his hands into his pockets and speaks with an airy tone, but you can’t hear him over the ringing in your ears.

Kento Nanami.

The reason you’re here. The man who’d invited you. The man who’s hosting this party.

Every second that’s passed since you stepped foot onto the balcony flashes through your brain. All the terrible things you’d said about him, every word of agreement he’d uttered back. Every signal, every sign he’d given you to shut the fuck up, and somehow you’d missed every single one and just kept on talking.

Guilt slithers down your spine, settles in your gut, and makes a home inside. You’d meant it, though. Every single word you’d said. But you’d never meant to say it to him, had never intended to be cruel.

And then you proceeded to let him touch you without an ounce of resistance.

A grade one sorcerer, someone you should be learning from, someone you should revere…and you’d let him stuff you with his fingers before even knowing his fucking name. Begged him for it, even.

He’d licked them clean.

Gojo says your name, pulling you out of your head and back into the conversation. “Are you alright? You seem a bit…out of it.”

“Fine,” you answer too quickly for it to sound convincing. “I’m fine, sorry. It’s just…late. What did you say?” You try to ignore the sticky feeling between your thighs to no avail.

“We’re going to head back now,” Gojo repeats. “If we stay much later I worry Ijichi might send out a search party for us.”

You’ve never been more ready to leave than you are right this second. You turn to Nanami and nod politely. “It was…uhm. Nice to meet you, sir.”

There’s nothing else to say, so you don’t. Pushing past Gojo and back inside, you weave your way through the moving crowd of people, trying to find the front door. It takes longer than you anticipated, but once you’re walking down the long penthouse hallway to the all-glass elevator you start to feel your shoulders dropping.

You recognize the pattern of Gojo’s long strides easily, and he catches up to you just as the elevator doors slide open.

Ever the gossip, he’s making insinuations as soon the two of you step inside and begin the timely descent. “That was the most awkward thing I’ve ever witnessed. What the hell happened between you two?”

“Nothing.”

“Right…”

“I mean it,” you insist. Because you might be older than the other students and Jujutsu High, but the last thing you’d ever want to do is put Nanami in a position to be ridiculed. He didn’t know. And you didn’t, either. “Nothing happened.”

“Oh, okay,” he says, voice holding a sarcastic edge. “Nothing happened. That’s why you had this look on your face like you were trying really hard to make yourself spontaneously combust. Right, right. Sounds like nothing.”

“Sounds like nothing because it was nothing.”

He sighs dramatically, turning to fully face you. “I can keep a secret. You know that. Just tell me now and we never have to talk about it again, I swear.”

You stand stone still, lips sealed firmly shut.

Gojo presses his hands together and juts out his bottom lip, and you wonder how the fuck you’d ended up here. Watching your mentor—a grown man—pout like a child for a scrap of information.

With a roll of your eyes, you say, “We can stop at that mochi place tonight if you never speak of it again.”

“Deal.”

He stays true to his word, and you stay true to yours.

When Gojo told you all about it on the way to the party, you’d thought he’d been exaggerating the decadence of the treat, but it truly was the best you’d ever had. You return to the dormitories with kinako dusted fingers, and Gojo doesn’t ask about Nanami again.

You think, hope, that it’s the end of it. Hope that when you inevitably cross paths with Kento Nanami again, you’ll be able to act professionally. You’ll put this calamity behind you, never to be repeated, and absorb the knowledge he can provide about wielding cursed energy like a blade.

But when you wake up the following morning, Maki’s pounding on your bedroom door, holding a bouquet of white flowers in a pale pink crystalline vase. There’s a white, lace ribbon tied around the center of it with a hand-written note attached. The penmanship is meticulous. Precise.

It reads, Thank you for the perspective. Apologies for the overindulgence. -K.

Maki’s brows are raised and her eyes are wide. She pushes you back into your room and seals you both inside. “Talk.”

taglist; @maybe-a-bi-witch @zeunys @mima0127 @unicornflutter

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peepawispunk · 1 month ago

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Pedro Character sex headcanons - Part 1

Part 2 here

My masterlist

You can barely get in the door of Tim Rockford's apartment before he's all over you. Pressing you against the door as he bolts it shut, then he's kissing down your neck, sliding his hand up your skirt and taking you apart with his thick fingers before he fucks you on the hall table.

Tim is a busy man and when he finally gets a chance to spend an evening with you he's not wasting one fucking second.

Javi Gutierrez wants to wine and dine you first. You get to his place in Hollywood Hills and he's had his chef cook you a nice meal, and chosen the perfect bottle of wine to go with it. After, you move to his balcony with a new bottle of wine, share a joint and when you finally get too strung out from the flirting touches you climb on him and he makes the prettiest noises as you grind on him, but he's not fucking you out there where anybody could see. He's taking you to bed so he can take his time.

Din had only ever had rushed, transactional sexual experiences. Sex with feelings is totally new to him. He's so overwhelmed and overstimulated, so used to being in his armor and helmet all the time, that just the barest brush of skin to skin contact has him moaning and tensing, biting his lip until it's all swollen and red. He spends so much time attending to your needs and making you feel good, learning how to get you to make the prettiest noises. He doesn't want to be the only one dripping with arousal

Joel is a natural caretaker and service dom. He gets his pleasure from making you feel good. He makes you dinner (he has about five recipes he's really nailed and is confident with), then he rubs the knots in your back until you're loose and pliant and soft under his hands. Then he flips you over and plays with your tits til you're begging for it, before slipping two thick fingers inside you, thumbing at your clit until you squirt all over his wrist. Then he fucks you stupid, til you can't even think anymore. Then he's tucking you into bed, his arm wrapped around your middle with a palm full of titty, kissing your temple and telling you "shh, such a good girl for me. Sleep now and I'll take real good care o' ya in the morning baby."

Javier Peña has an air of dom about him, but what he really wants is to be taken care of for once. You get to his place and he's all cocky and confident as he brings you off on the couch. But then you climb onto his lap and you're kissing his face, running your hands through his hair and whispering words of praise in his ear as you wrap your hand around him, stroking him before you slip him inside you. He moans so prettily as you circle your hips, pressing kisses to his face, his hair, his hands as his fingers lace with yours. His skin pricks with goosebumps as he finally comes inside you with a choked cry, his arms wrapping around and his face burying into your neck as he's dripping out of you, down your thighs and onto his lap.

Dave York is a dom in all meanings of the word. But he's a proper dom, a real one. He knows that consent and trust is important, and that the sub holds all the real power, because they're allowing the play in the first place and setting the limits.

Dave greets you at the door, makes you drink a glass of water, and is practically fucking you with his eyes while you go over the rules and the limits for today's scene. He's full of praise when you communicate your understanding, when you repeat your safeword, and he's really full of praise when he enters the bedroom five minutes later and you're kneeling on the floor, hands ready and waiting to be tied behind your back before he fucks your throat, before edging you to the most powerful orgasm you've ever had with just his fingers and his voice. Then he tells you how fucking good you are, "you're such a good fucking girl, honey. Look at you, taking this big cock like a champ. Pussy's so fucking hungry, huh? Don't worry. I'll feed her real good. Make her swallow it up."

Frankie is the pussy eating king, yes. But it's more than skill. It's his fucking *passion*. He loves everything about it. The taste, the smell. The feel underneath his tongue. The noises you make. Frankie takes his time. He's all slow licks and sucks, soft, whiskery kisses up your thighs until your legs are shaking with want. He toys with you until you can't take it anymore, bringing you slowly to the brink and then backing off, planting kisses on your thighs and knees and tummy until your breathing evens out. When you can't take it anymore, he stops teasing. He dives nose first into that pussy, the intensity of it making your swear and shake as he shows you just how quickly he can get you there, and just how much he was toying with you by making you wait so long. Yeah, Francisco Morales plays with his food.

Marcus Acacius likes to fuck you in the sunlight. He's had a lifetime of dimly lit tents and rented rooms, and he wants none of those reminders when he's with you. Your union is everything good and powerful and pure. It belongs in the light, in the warmth of day. He loves to take you apart underneath him, his broad shoulders and big, calloused hands making you feel smaller and even more precious, the stark contrast of your soft skin underneath his hands that have known a lifetime of work and battle.

He kisses you so sweetly, fucks you face to face so he can see the look on your face, the light in your eyes as he worships you, thumbing your clit with his free hand as he braces himself above you with one strong forearm. He's hoping this is the time it takes. He can't wait to see you round and glowing, bountiful as the fall harvest.

Part 2

#tim rockford #javi gutierrez #joel miller #javier peña #dave york #marcus acacius #headcanons #pedro pascal cinematic universe #thots #pedro pascal #din djarin #frankie morales

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sgrplumditz · 1 year ago

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You had his baby and he didn't know (Pt. 2)

A/N: Thank you for all the positive feedback! I am so beyond grateful that you guys enjoyed the 1st part. I never fathomed to get this much attention from my first post, which means I didn’t really intend on making a part 2. But with such gratitude and motivation… here it is!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

She had told him everything, and through it all he did nothing but soothe her, keeping her small hands in his as her soft voice filled their ears. It wasn't until now that she had realized how absurd it was to feel nervous to tell him the story of her unaccompanied pregnancy, and her introduction to motherhood.

Like herself, he also held no resentment, or distaste toward the secrecy behind the conception and birth of their beautiful baby girl. Simon's only intention was to understand her and her decision to keep their child a secret from him, but in the midst of her reminiscent disclosure he couldn't help but feel alienated, guilty and a rollercoaster of many other emotions revolving her and his daughter.

His usually hard, and stoic gaze had softened for her -- which wasn't an unusual occurrence for him when it came to her, the mother of his child. "Hey, you're alright" he soothed when he noticed a stray tear race down her soft cheek. His thumb instinctively coming up to stop the salty drop of emotion in its track, and likewise she instinctively leaned into the feeling of his large hand that cupped the side of her face.

The moment was tender, intimate, comforting -- it was everything that she craved from him from the moment she found out she was carrying their child. Their baby girl seemed to be emotionally connected to her mother. The sound of her fuss and whimpering coming from the playpen where she had been placed to rest. Both her and Simon's attention was drawn to the infant the moment her restful cooing was replaced with the sounds of discomfort. Her mother knew that she was most likely hungry, but her father, Simon seemed to only be alarmed by the sudden crying. It was evident that his protective nature had taken over -- a quality of his that could not be tamed or ever be put to rest.

"She's just hungry, Si" she spoke, breaking the silence between the two. The melancholy aura of the room immediately being lifted as she chuckled softly at his high alert behavior as it only reminded her of the first few nights that she was home from the hospital with her daughter.

As she normally would she gently picked up their daughter, making sure to keep a firm hand on the back of her neck to support it. Her maternal nature was in full effect as she spoke sweet and soft words to the baby girl. Her cries being soothed, and her simple mind now distracted at the sight and sound of her mother. Simon watched this all divulge in front of him. He didn't know whether his heart ached because he had missed hundreds of moments like these or if he felt such sorrow because he didn't share the same bond with the tiny being that he helped create.

He let his the thoughts and endless "'what if" possibilities consume his mind while she prepared a bottle with the infant still resting in her arm. She was small, measuring out the length of her mother's forearm. Normally she would make the bottle with ease, but as time went by and the baby girl grew, the process slowed down. She was careful and calculated making sure that the baby was always safe in her arms.

"I can take her if you're alright with it" spoke Simon in a mildly nervous tone. “It’d make it easier for you to prepare her bottle, yeah?” he spoke again, using the feeding time as an excuse to finally hold their daughter. But he was nervous? Simon doesn’t get nervous. He has always been incredibly calm and collected to the point of mastering stoicism. He wasn’t nervous to hold the infant — that was the less of his worries.

There were so many special events that he had missed while he was away. Core memories that he doesn’t have with her or her mother. He missed the pregnancy, the first kicks, the birth, the first powerful cries from her little lungs, the first feed from her mother’s full and lactating breasts, the first skin-to-skin contact —which he read was essential for bonding in newborns, the dad walk out of the hospital after being discharged as a family — the one where he knew his overprotective nature would automatically take over.

So many factors playing into the aggregation of his nerves, but there was a single one that was keeping him on edge the most. Simon was nervous that he wouldn’t be able to bond with the small and fragile being that shared half of his DNA. Being absent for so many critical events made him doubtful in his ability to be and feel like a genuine father. All of his nerves dwindling down and relying on this very moment.

But none of it mattered. The pessimistic thoughts that lingered in his brain practically disintegrating. As if the warmth of his daughter’s small body destroyed every doubtful fiber in his own. She was no longer just his biological daughter, but a part of him. His soul was tied to hers, his emotions was connected to hers, his breath was for her. His entire being was engulfed by her.

The baby adjusted herself in his broad, tattooed and muscular arm by leaning her small face into his chest, as if she sensed some sort of familiarity in him. Like mother like daughter.

She watched their entire interaction curiously. She saw his hardened exterior breakdown at the moment their daughter’s infant body fit into his arm like a puzzle piece. It was obvious. Just like she felt her daughter was made for her, she was just as equally made for him. The instant connection between the father and daughter was electric. This was everything she had wanted and more.

She always knew Simon would be a great father — he was a great guy after all — he was attentive, protective, polite, masculine, and so much more, but she never fathomed that it would have been as magnifying as she felt it to be.

Simon’s gaze turned to her and she swore she saw his eyes glistening, tears threatening to spill. No words were exchanged between the two, but she knew exactly what he was feeling and thinking. As their daughter’s mother, she felt those exact emotions as well.

She was then engulfed by his scent. His arms embracing the two most important girls in his life, but it was not just a typical embrace of joy — it was firm, passionate and filled with urgency. He needed them.

With their daughter still resting in his arm, he used his free hand to remove a stray strand of hair from her face before he firmly cupped it. A soft kiss landing on her forehead.

He pressed his forehead to hers and exhaled softly before breaking the silence, “I am so proud of you” he said — his english accent thick and correlating respectively with how emotional he was.

“I am so proud of you” he repeated again, “but you are never doing anything like this alone. We do it together. As a family”.

#simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #dad ghost #cod fanfic #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #fem reader

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nanamis-princess · 10 months ago

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✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Your their passenger princess

Synopsis: just head canons about being their passenger princess:)

Genre: fluff

T/w: mentions of shoko smoking, bad driving lol, possibly oc geto? And misspellings

Nanami, gojo, geto, shoko, megumi, yuji & nobara (separately) X reader

Nanami

-he always has his free hand on your thigh or holding your hand. His thumb brushes over your thigh/thumb gently but if it annoys you he stops.

-steals glances at you while at red lights, giving you a soft smile as the light turns green

-he cant help but laugh if you guys miss an exit because you thought it was a bit further down.

-he doesn’t mind listening to what you pick, he’s kinda the type to listen to a podcast while driving tho. Or an audiobook.

-when you type in the location in his maps you see his favorite places saved. Your favorite stores & restaurants are saved, along with his favorite bakery ofc.

-he’s a very safe driver but you can’t tell me his not putting across you if the car has to come to a abrupt stop.

-he has beach scented air fresheners in his car.

-has a photo of you at the beach holding up a seashell, clipped to a photo of Haibara in his visor.

-keeps mints/ gum in his car at all times along with a lint roller (he’s a cat dad)

Gojo

-his free hand is always on your thigh

-asks you to feed him while he’s driving, he accidentally bit your finger before and offered to kiss it to make it feel better.

-he’s a safe driver for the most part but he has his moments. He’s like a 100% positive there was never a stop sign there.

-he misses his exits a lot. Like a lot, a lot.

-his car smells like his cologne.

-has an extra pair of his iconic glasses on his visor along with a photo of you and Megumi sitting at his favorite ice cream spot.

-likes driving to beautiful nature areas with you after making a snack run.

-needs music on at all times, he requests song but then just ends up making a bunch of playlist for you guys. But don’t worry you are still his DJ.

-always has a hoodie or jacket in his backseat that you probably end up stealing.

Geto

-always holds your hand while driving, he also brings your hand up to his lips and places a soft kiss.

-his car smells like black cherry and his windows are tinted.

-a decent driver but does speed, not always while your in the car tho. Unless you like that kinda thing;)

-has a necklace of yours around his rear view mirror that you gave him

-loves doing those cute fast food date ideas where you pick the appetizer, he picks the main meal and you pick the dessert.

-likes to make out with you at red lights until it turns green and gets honked at.

-while he lets you pick the music you find a playlist with your name as the title its songs that remind him of you. He has another one of music you’ve played before.

-has a case of water on the floor in the backseat along with a blanket.

Yuji

-he most likely keeps his hands on the wheel or tweaking with something as he drives but likes holding your hand while driving. Sometimes puts his hand on your thigh.

-always has your favorite candy or gum in his glove compartment.

-requests like two different songs at once but tells you which order to play them in. “They just pair together well” he laughs as you type all that in.

-like Gojo always has a hoodie in his backseat along with a pair of sneakers and a water bottle he forgets about.

-also has random papers in the backseat that he keeps forgetting to look at

-he’s also a decent driver, but when your in the car he’s more aware. Not that he’s less likely to be careful but the last thing he wants his to hurt you or someone else.

-has a group photo of you, him, Nobara and Megumi in his visor.

-his car keys have a matching keychain that he shares with you.

Megumi

-it’s a small gesture but he loves holding your hand while he’s driving. Gives it a gentle little squeeze from time to time along with a kiss on the back of your hand.

-has LED lights at the bottom of the car that he keeps red for most of the time but lets you change the color.

-before dating you he didn’t really use air fresheners but he found one that reminded him of your perfume/cologne.

-gives you full control of the music

-relies on your directions more than the map because up he always misses the exit.

-there is a little dog hair in his backseat that he tries his best to get out lol, he didn’t keep a hoodie or blanket back there until he started dating you.

-has a car charm with your first initial around his rear view mirror.

-doesn’t mind if you eat from his food as he drives, he will give you his last fry, or chicken nuggets.

Nobara

-holds your hand while driving but doesn’t mind if you put your hand on her thigh.

-loves driving around listening to music with you if you don’t have a set destination. If you have a set destination (and she hasn’t been there before) she needs the music on low to focus.

-you guys have a playlist you add songs together

-has one of those mini trash cans that’s hooked to the backseat

-also has leather seat covers that matches her steering wheel

-going shopping with you and then getting a sweet treat after is her favorite thing to do on her day off, she’ll spoil you and herself until her backseat is full of shopping bags.

-she’s a good driver, no accidents and no tickets. But that curb is her enemy.

-her glove compartment has an extra hairbrush and lip gloss. She keeps things you use on the go too.

-keeps two hoodies in her backseat if you both get cold

Shoko

-she prefers having her hand on your thigh when she drives if she isn’t smoking

- likes to tease you by rubbing her hand up your thigh and gives it a little squeeze. She chuckles with a small smile at the effect that it has on you.

-has hair ties around her shifter and in the middle compartment she keeps a pack of cigarettes

-her car smells like caramel with a hint of nicotine

-she also wont smoke in the car if it bothers you or as a matter of fact around you in general

-she’s a very good driver but has parking tickets

-got you a head rest pillow in your favorite color to put on your seat

-also keeps a blanket that’s your favorite color in her backseat along with a bag hook if hanging on the pack of your seat A/N: hello cuties:3 it’s been a minute. This took me two weeks to write lolll, I’m in a bit of a rut & lacking motivation. More stuff is on the way tho 💕🌸

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p0orbaby · 7 months ago

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It Might Be More of an Obsession

summary: feeding your child in public stirs feelings inside of alexia she didn’t realise she had

warnings: SMUT 18+, breastfeeding kink, breast milk, stap on use, fingering, breast play, top!alexia, sub!dom, not proofread

a/n: this is… something. it’s an acquired taste so i don’t blame you for skipping past this if the themes aren’t your thing

word count: 1.9k

“Ella está a punto de llorar”

You turn your head, pausing your conversation with Frido to find Mapi holding your daughter at arm’s length over the table.

“Jesús María, ella no es una bomba,” Alexia exclaims, reaching out to save her kid from being dropped into a vat of paella.

“Pass her here, Ale. She’s just hungry”

You can’t blame her. Outings with the team are an event even for you these days, let alone a four-month-old who is the center of attention at every gathering. She’s an easy child, patient, and calm. But even the most mellow of souls needs a food break.

Alexia stands, cradling your daughter as she wriggles animatedly in her arms. “Shall I warm up a bottle?”

You shake your head. “I’ll feed her. It’s not too busy here and the girls won’t mind.”

Alexia gives you a nod, admiration shining in her eyes as she hands your daughter over to you. Finding a comfortable position, you settle into your chair and begin to feed her.

The conversation around the table continues, but you catch a few of the girls sneaking curious glances in your direction. It’s clear they’re all trying to act casual, but some are more subtle than others. Like a group of teenagers sneaking glances at their teacher’s cleavage, except, you know, less creepy and more endearing.

“Oye, Alexia,” Patri teases, nudging her captain with a playful grin, “put your tongue back in your mouth, vale”

Alexia rolls her eyes, but you can see a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “Shut up. I’m just making sure they’re both okay.” This, of course, is said with the dignity of a queen who has just been told she’s got spinach in her teeth.

Ona joins in, unable to resist a little ribbing. “Right, because that’s why you’re looking at your wife’s chest like you’ve never seen boobs before. Maybe you should take notes for when it’s your turn, eh?”

Alexia chuckles, trying to brush off the teasing. “When it’s my turn, I’ll be a natural. No need for notes”

“Don’t give her any ideas,” you interject, smiling as you switch your daughter to the other breast. “I’ve already got one Putellas rinsing me dry, I don’t need another”

The house is quiet, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of the team gathering. The baby is finally asleep in her crib, and the two of you tiptoe out of the nursery. You close the door softly, turning to find Alexia already watching you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

She doesn’t say anything, just takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom. Her touch is gentle but insistent, a silent promise of what’s to come. The door clicks shut behind you, and the air is thick with anticipation.

“Alexia,” you murmur, but she’s already moving, her hands on your waist, pulling you close.

“Shh,” she whispers, her breath hot against your ear.

Her lips find yours, the kiss deep and hungry. You can feel the restraint she’s been holding onto slipping away. Her hands roam your body, urgent, demanding. She breaks the kiss, her eyes dark with desire.

“Take off your clothes,” she commands, her voice low and rough in the soft light of the bedside lamp.

You comply, heart pounding in your chest. Alexia watches, her gaze never leaving your body. When you’re finally naked before her, she steps closer, her hands finding your breasts, cupping them with a reverence that makes your knees weak.

“So beautiful,” she murmurs, her thumbs brushing over your nipples. “I can’t get enough of you”

Her mouth follows her hands, lips and tongue teasing. You gasp, your body arching into her touch. She’s relentless, her need for you suffocating, almost overwhelming.

“Lie down,” she orders, and you do, your body moving without even thinking. Not that you have the ability to do that now anyway, your brain is shrouded in fog.

She climbs over you, her eyes locked on yours as she lowers her head to your breasts again. She nips at the flesh, then takes your nipple between her teeth, and you moan, your hands clutching at the sheets. Her other hand slides between your legs, fingers finding you wet and ready.

“Please, Alexia,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

She looks up at you, her eyes blazing. “You like that, don’t you? Watching me watch you. Knowing how much I want you”

“Yes,” you breathe, the word a plea.

Her fingers thrust into you, hard and fast, her mouth still working your breast. The feeling of her hand and her mouth together is almost too much, your body straining towards release. She’s rough, dominant, taking you with a fierceness that leaves you breathless.

Her mouth moves to your other breast, her tongue flicking over your nipple before giving it the same treatment as the last. The sting sends jolts of pleasure through you, making you cry out. She pulls back for a moment, her eyes meeting yours with a possessive heat that has you melting.

“You’re mine,” she growls, her fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot. “Say it”

“I’m yours,” you gasp, your body tensing, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

“Good girl,” she purrs, her thumb rubbing your clit in tight, precise circles.Your breath catches in your throat. Alexia’s fingers are persistent, driving you closer and closer to the edge. She knows exactly what you need before you even do, and she’s giving it to you with an intensity that leaves you trembling.

Without warning, she withdraws her hand, leaving you panting and on the verge of begging. She stands up, her eyes never leaving yours as she reaches into the bedside drawer. The familiar rustling reaches your ears, and you watch from under hooded lids as she fastens the strap around her hips. The sight of her, so confident and in control, sends a fresh wave of arousal straight to your core.

“Turn over,” she commands, her voice firm.

You obey, albeit on shaky limbs. The anticipation is almost unbearable as you feel her position herself behind you. Her hands glide over your hips, guiding you to where she wants you. The tip of the strap presses against your entrance, and you can feel her hesitation, the slight pause as she ensures you’re ready.

“Ale, please,” you plead, your voice gravelly, strained.

She doesn’t need to be told twice. With a slow, steady thrust, she fills you completely, her hips meeting your ass. You moan, the feeling of being taken so fully, so deeply, nearly overwhelming.

“¿Es esto lo que querías?” she asks, her voice a low growl. “To be fucked like this?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your fingers digging into the sheets.

She begins to move, her thrusts slow and deliberate at first, allowing you to adjust to the fullness. But it doesn’t take long for her pace to quicken, the need in her movements undeniable. She’s unabated, her thrusts hard and deep, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure all the way down to your toes and back again.

You can hear her breathing, harsh and ragged, as she fucks you with a single-minded intensity. Her hands grip your hips, holding you in place as she drives into you over and over. The sound of your bodies coming together fills the room, mingling with your moans and her low grunts.

“Tell me how it feels,” she demands, her voice tight with restraint.

“Amazing,” you manage to gasp. “So good, Alexia. Please, don’t stop”

Her response is a sharp push that makes you cry out. She leans over you, her lips brushing against your ear. “I won’t stop until you come for me”

Her hand snakes around your body, finding your clit again and rubbing it in sync with her movements. It’s almost too much to bear, pushing you closer and closer to oblivion.

“Come for me,” she whispers, her voice a dark command. “Quiero sentir como te corres”

With a final, desperate drive, she sends you tumbling. Your orgasm crashes through you, a tidal wave of pleasure that leaves you shaking and winded. She holds you tight, her movements slowing but never stopping, drawing out every last tremor of pleasure you could possibly give her.

Finally, she pulls out, her hands gentle as she helps you turn onto your back. She leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, the fierceness of earlier replaced by a tender intimacy.

But she’s not done. Not yet.

She repositions herself, between you open legs. The look in her eyes is predatory, and you know she’s far from finished with you. She adjusts the strap, aligning it at your entrance once more, and presses in with renewed vigor. Your overstimulated body quakes under the assault of pleasure and pain, and your moans turn to cries of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

“You like that?” she growls, her rhythm punishing. “You want more?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you beg, your voice raw with need.

Her hands grip your breasts, squeezing hard as she continues to fuck you with abandon. Your vision blurs, your body teetering on the brink of another orgasm.

“Come again,” she commands, her voice dripping with dominance. “I want to feel you shatter around me”

Her thumb finds your clit once more, rubbing it with ruthless precision. Everything is alight as you fall over the edge again, your body convulsing as another powerful orgasm rips through you. You scream her name, your voice hoarse, as you come harder than you ever have before.

As you lay there, breathless and trembling, Alexia’s eyes darken with a new kind of hunger. She leans down, her mouth hovering over your breast. “I want to taste you,” she murmurs, her voice thick with desire.

Before you can respond, her lips close around your nipple, her tongue flicking over it with practiced skill. You gasp, the sensation heightened by the intensity of your recent orgasms. She sucks harder, her mouth working with an insistent hunger. You can feel the milk let down, a warm trickle that she eagerly laps up, her moans of satisfaction vibrating against your skin.

“Oh God, Alexia,” you breathe, the mix of pleasure and the intimate act sending shivers down your spine.

She switches to your other breast, her eyes locking with yours as she sucks, her hand still playing between your legs. The sight of her, so completely lost in her need for you, is almost too much to bear. She drinks from you like she can’t get enough, her mouth greedy and relentless.

“Do you like this?” she whispers between licks and sucks. “Knowing how much I need you, how much I want every part of you?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your body arching into her touch. “God, yes.”

Her fingers thrust into you again, matching the rhythm of her mouth on your breast. The pleasure is overwhelming, a heady mix of physical and emotional intensity that leaves you trembling and gasping.

“One more time,” she commands, her voice a dark, velvety whisper. “I know you can give one more”

Her mouth on your breast and her fingers inside you, the feel of her breath on your skin. She’s perfected everything, and you're seeing stars for the third time. You come with a shuddering cry, your body convulsing around her fingers, the pleasure blinding in its intensity. Tears roll down your cheeks

Alexia continues to suck gently, drawing out the last waves of your orgasm until you’re a quivering, breathless mess. Finally, she pulls away, her eyes filled with a satisfied, predatory gleam.

“Perfect,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing tenderly over your flushed skin. “Absolutely perfect”

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