#non-force sensitive! reader

[skellymom]

"SLIDE"

The Bad Batch Fan Fic x Non Gendered Reader

(My first ever TBB Fan Fic posted 7/31/23. Unfortunately, I didn't realize at the time putting the MATURE label on the bottom of the post would make Tumblr hide it's presence)

Background: Force Sensitive learns to grow their Force powers. This timeline is several months after leaving Crosshair on Kamino, near the end of working for Cid. The Batch is trying to figure a hook to be independent and possibly start actively rebelling against the Empire. This is set well before Mt Tantiss. 

Warnings: Canon and non-canon violence, swearing, momentary and possibly gruesome death of main characters (no worries, they don’t stay dead forever), Crosshair is an angry psychopathic killer with a vengeance (no hate, I love his problematic ass), mild Hunter fluff, touchy concerned Tech, Echo swears (of course).

Word count:  2.1 K

You hadn’t expected to be separated from the rest of the Batch, however, Omega had other ideas “to help” on this mission. The Batch infiltrated this Imperial base for intel and possible chain codes to steal. You volunteered to run after and bring her back.  Spotted by Imperial stormtroopers in a corridor, you and Omega try to lose them, but they are hot on your tail. Omega hears the Batch’s voices down a hallway and runs to them. 

You and Omega skid to a halt at the edge of a missing bridge while the rest of the Batchers are on the other side.  The precipice between is a several hundred story drop within the Imperial base. The group of stormtroopers rocked up behind you, guns lowered.  Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker looked on impotently across the chasm, weapons trained on the stormtroopers.  The Batch are poised, holding fire, trying to avoid any possibility of you and Omega getting caught in any crossfire. 

Unfortunately, you had not finished training with your Master. Your Master did not survive Order 66. You were SO CLOSE to obtaining Jedi status.  Now it was up to YOU to save yourself and Omega.  Being captured was not an option at this point.  Although, allowing the Empire to take you and Omega might allow time for the Batch to retreat safely to fight later.  That carried serious risks.  You were very limited in options as far as your Force abilities.  Master had not given you a light saber, remarking that the Force had a different path for you. 

The lead stormtrooper immediately grabbed you as a human shield, just as Wrecker let loose a shot from his blaster.  He intended to shoot the stormtrooper but hit you in the chest.  You slipped out of the stormtroopers grasp and off the edge of the bridge. You met Omega’s eyes as she called your name, while being dragged away by the same trooper.  As your body went into free fall down the chasm, you could hear your Batchmates scream, curse, and start blasting away.  

As consciousness slips from your body, you close your eyes.  The sense of falling disappears, but you expected that by eventually reaching terminal velocity from this height.  You open your eyes and are standing on an outstretched infinite path within an ever-expanding universe.  Before you is a HUGE hulking creature with glowing eyes. 

“What’s happening?  Where am I?”  You are simultaneously shocked, afraid, and unsure if this is all a dream. 

The creature stares down, sizing you up. 

“ In The World Between Worlds.” 

“Am I dead???” 

“No. It is not yet your time.  You are here to finish your training.” 

“My friends need my help!  I need to get back to them!!!” 

“You will return to help them; it is part of your training.” 

“Who are you?” 

“That matters not.  Only your path is of importance.  You cannot progress until your training is finished.  The lives within your care hang in the balance.  You and your group are linked together in that realm.  Your failure will be their failure…until you succeed.  Then you will be released from this realm to continue your path.” 

It feels like the creature is staring into your soul, “The point of entry is behind you.” 

You turn around to see…a doorway?  A dark threshold surrounded by cryptic symbols, suspended among stars.  

“Are you ready?” 

“No! I…” 

“Begin!” 

Your vision becomes a blur as you leave that place and return to where you were standing before falling off the platform.  The vertigo messes with your senses, and it all feels like you had a momentary hallucination.  Now back in this moment, you quickly spring into action. 

You yell “NO WRECKER” immediately and Wrecker stops in his tracks.  Hunter is sensing something, but unsure what it is.  The Stormtrooper grabs you as a shield.  A second trooper grabs Omega and drags her away.  Omega starts using swears that only Echo could come up with as she is taken.  The Batch stand with blasters trained on the stormtroopers in defense but not wanting to hit you in the crossfire.  The trooper violently puts a foot in your ass and kicks you off the platform, then commences to start firing on the Batch.  You free fall down the chasm and… 

…pass The World Between Worlds for a split second, and then appear back onto the platform.   

You try again. 

Omega is led away swearing up a storm while the stormtrooper is holding onto you.  Hunter calls to you, and in that moment, you sense the concern and love in his heart.  You also sense a dark presence in the Force, look up to the platform above and see Crosshair with his Firepuncher trained on you.  He was watching this exchange the whole time, waiting for the opportunity to shoot.  In his jealousy and anger, he fires, hitting you dead center between the eyes.  The very last thing you see is Cross grinning as he hears Hunter lose his shit. 

The fabric of the connected realms brushes past you. 

Again. 

You yank the stormtrooper into Crosshairs blaster bolt as his body is hit, he stumbles into Omega and both fall off the platform to their impending deaths.  The stormtrooper behind him, seeing the target they were looking to take is now gone, opens fire on you.  You fall off the platform. 

Again. 

Before the trooper can grab you, you grab Omega and jump off the platform into the chasm.  With any luck, you can use the force to stop yourselves before hitting bottom.  Unfortunately, you and Omega’s fall velocity was too much for your Force abilities.   

Again. 

You grab Omega but try to save only her.  As you fall past hundreds of platforms, you try to yeet her onto one as you fall.  You are falling too fast, and your throw was severely off.  You hear a sickening thud as she hits something. 

Again. 

You attempt to Force jump, and only make it just short of the other side.  You yeet Omega across the chasm towards the Batch, Hunter jumps for her from the other side, and she slips from his grasp.  You hear them both scream above you as you fall.  Fortunately, Tech and Wrecker send out their grappling cables and catch both.  Blaster fire starts from the stormtroopers.  Tech is hit, falls off the platform, and takes Omega with him since she is attached to his cable.   

Again. 

You Force jump again, Hunter jumps but misses Omega.  Knowing Wrecker will catch Hunter with his grappling hook, you send out a Force block in front of Tech. He is shielded from blaster fire, but Wrecker is hit by several bolts.  He falls off the platform taking Hunter with him.  You hear Wrecker’s insanely terrified scream as you all fall.  Hunter sends out his grappling cable and it catches.  His fall is stopped, but Wrecker’s weight wrenches Hunters body horribly.  He screams out in agony as he feels muscles tear.  They are hanging and safe momentarily…or so it seems.  A shot is heard from Firepuncher and Hunters cable is severed.  Both Batchers scream as they fall. 

You try to hold onto the edges of the realm as you pass through, but it evades your grasp. 

Again. 

You grab the lead stormtroopers gun while he is still holding onto it and keep pushing his finger onto the trigger, you shoot him and several other imps.  You fire several shots towards Crosshair, preventing him from shooting at you.  However, one hotshot trooper in the back squeezes off and hits you right in the back fatally.  

Again.   

Same scenario, but you spin the trooper around and use him as a human shield and the hotshot misses you.  However, Crosshair blasts you at the base of your skull.  The last thing you see is Omega’s terrified expression as you fall onto the platform next to your teeth his shot loosened in the blast. 

AGAIN?

You are getting sick of playing this fucked up reset game already.  In your anger, you quickly grab the stormtrooper and throw his ass off the platform.  The Batch and Omega watch shocked at your anger.  The other stormtroopers are taken by surprise, as you advance on them and grab another.  Crosshair is attempting to aim, but you are moving too much. The hotshot trooper aims his weapon. You and the trooper in your grasp struggle violently. The hotshot cannot get a good clear shot.  Finally, he squeezes one off and misses you. However, he didn’t consider where Omega is standing, and she takes a direct hit. You hear your Batchmates scream in outrage. You scream in outrage. The hotshot screams in frustration, then double taps you and the trooper in your grasp in the head simultaneously. 

AGAIN??

You grab the stormtroopers gun while still in his hand and shoot yourself in the head.  You just want this exhausting mess to be over. 

AGAIN???

You fall onto the platform in a crumpled pile crying.  Stormtroopers AND Crosshair shoot you at the same time, resulting in a horrible, charred mess. 

AGAIN???

You scream bloody murder and obscenities at Crosshair.  He shoots you between the eyes. 

AGAIN! 

You jump off the edge of the platform screaming obscenities like a crazy person. 

Before reset, you see the expression on the creatures face.  He looks disappointed and replies, “You aren’t even trying.  Reach out beyond the boundaries of your realm” As you angrily try to spout off to him, you are thrown violently into the next reset. 

AGAIN!!!

Standing on the platform, you take a deep breath and survey the scene.  You mull over the creatures words.  Time seems to slow down: You sense the stormtroopers behind you, looking into each of eyes of the Batch; Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, up to Crosshair, finally resting on Omega.  You mouth, “Trust me” to her and she nods. 

Time suddenly slams into overdrive, and you instantly pivot to bearhug Omega.  The trooper misses your shoulder and grabs open air.  The shot from Crosshair’s Firepuncher, originally meant for you, hits the trooper right between the eyes and he falls off the platform.  You reach deep within the Force, grab the thin tether of this realm and open it wide.  You then realize you were only meant to grasp it at the start of your actions, not at the end.  You “push” through with the Force, taking Omega with you.  As you “slide” from one location to another, you pass the creature.  He nods as you pass from the world you left only a millisecond ago, through the timeless World Between Worlds. 

“Congratulations, Jedi!  Your training is complete.” 

You part the curtain to your world again, entering behind the Batch.  Hunter, before his eyes even register your disappearance on the opposite platform, senses a presence behind them.  His head whips around to see you and Omega are now out of harm’s way.  His jaw drops inside his helmet.  Tech, seeing Hunters reaction, immediately spins around, his eyes are visibly dumbfounded “What?  How?”  Wrecker calmly looks behind him, seeing you and Omega there safely, doesn’t question.  He barks, “MUAHAHAHA!  YEAH!!!” and opens fire on all the befuddled stormtroopers standing on the opposite platform.   

With Wreckers cover fire, Hunter grabs Omega and runs down the hallway while yelling, “Let’s go!”  Tech runs past and grabs your hand.  He’s usually not touchy feely, but somewhere deep in his logical brain he understands that whatever happened saved your and Omega’s life.  All the quick calculations he was running in his brain logically ended in you both dying.  Wrecker is happily hopped up on blaster fire and the relief you are both safe.  He follows running behind. 

Crosshair is left on his sniper’s roost.  He hasn’t EVER missed a target.  This was his first time. You were there one second and gone next to his surprise.  Stares down at all the dead troopers laying on the platform below, gnawing hard on his toothpick.  He’s angry…but intrigued.  Maybe instead of killing you outright next time, he can land a stunning blow.  The Empire might be VERY interested if he brought you in alive.  Cross sprints away down a shortcut. 

Your group reaches the end of the hallway and bursts out into the ship hangar bay.  A large battalion of stormtroopers meet you there, with guns aimed.  You all stop, out of breath, and possibly out of luck.  Echo swoops in with the Marauder hovering and laying down suppressive cannon fire.  Unfortunately, there are too many imps for him to dispatch while also landing successfully.  Hunter and Tech are furiously looking for a way out.   

You reach out with the Force and envelope Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, and Omega.  Before opening the fabric of this realm, you feel eyes on you.  Looking to a ledge several stories up, Crosshair meets your gaze.  You both stare intensely into each other.  Without even realizing it, you reach out and speak with the Force: 

“Why???” 

“Because…” Slight shock registering on Crosshair’s face “…I can.” 

“You’ll regret this someday…when you’re all alone.” 

“I already am.”  He’s angry and hurt.  There is nothing more you can say. 

You slide through, taking all the Batchers with you and suddenly appearing within the Marauder.   

Wrecker: “WHOA!” 

Tech: Speechless, wide eyed…and STILL holding your hand. 

Omega: Dizzy and winded. 

Hunter: Rips helmet off his head. His expression is wild eyed and looks like he saw some serious shit.  “What was that place? Who was that creature?” 

Echo:  Spins around in the pilot’s chair, eyes wide “WHAT THE FUCK!!!” 

You grin.  And watch the Batch trying to piece together their sudden location movement and glimpse of the creature between worlds. 

Giving the order to Echo you bark, “Let’s go, soldier!” 

He’s still sitting there with a shocked expression, then laser blasts pepper the ship, and he regains composure.  Echo flies the Marauder out of the Imperial facility, off the planet, scrambles the ships jump signature, and punches it into hyperspace. 

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[ridingthatd]

IT'S GETTIN' STICKY

one cock? how about two cocks? what's better than a threesum.

Pairings.

➨ TOJI x READER x GOJO - satoru walking into his slut of a wife getting fucked by non other then toji fushiguro.

➨ SUKUNA x READER x NANAMI - working at the office at night and you got horny, you start fingering your pussy thinking nobody is at work this late , what happens when sukuna your boss and his secretary nanami catch you.

➨ CHOSO x READER x GETO - being a sugar mommy meaning you can have two boyfriends?

Warning threesum, desperate men, pervert men, whiney men, alooot of cum, creampie, breeding kink, degrading, two cocks one pussy, pet names, masturbating kink, spit kink, rough sex, over simulation, no mercy, riding nose, yk what doja cat said abt big nose, very smutty

TOJI x READER x GOJO - satoru walking into his slut of a wife getting fucked by non other then toji fushiguro.

you liked it- no you loved getting your pussy hammered by the fat girthy cock that belonged to the man, your husband hated the most ; toji fushiguro.

the filthiness of it, the dirty, taboo feeling of your pussy getting stretched, gapped wide open by a thick, heavy cock that doesn't belong to your husband. getting fucked on the same bed you and satoru sleep in while he's away for a mission.

your pussy gushing, spurting on tojis cock that doesn't stop ramming into you, your hot juice flying everywhere- dripping down his heavy balls into your dirty bed sheets.

"you fucking dirty bitch, squirting on another's man cock like that?". toji groans, his bulky figure was coated with sweat dripping down his pinkish perky nipples down to his toned clenched abs as he struggles to not blow a warm load of his cum inside of you.

but the way your filthy pussy was gripping his cock around your sticky gummy walls wasn't helping. toji growl as he gaze at your fucked face through his heavy eyelids, eyes crossed, cheeks flushed as drool spills down your swollen lips that he wanted to suck on.

toji leans in, pushing your legs further into your body, placing both of your legs near your head as he thrust his big cock deeper inside your swollen red pussy.

"ah! ah! ah-! i cant- fuccck just like this!". you sob out, choking on your spit as your eyes roll back, he was hitting the most sensitive part inside your pussy with his fat tip.

"right here? yea?! like that? you like that fucking bitch?". toji growls, leaning in and taking one of your fat sensitive nipples in his mouth, suckling hard on it as he doesn't stop hammering his leaking cock inside of you, his heavy balls were coated with your warm fluid as your dirty pussy sloppily suck his cock in.

toji was so close, so close that he knew he had to pull out or else he'll end up fucking a baby in you. he pulls his rough hands that were pushing your legs next to your head away. he was about to pull out with a grunt but your words make him freeze in place.

"no! no! please-! mmmmmm- inside of me please!". you whine out desperately, your body shakes as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his throbbing cock further into your pussy.

toji eyes darken, he hiss his cock was swelling with cum at your filthy words, his balls felt heavier, needier at the idea of breeding gojo satorus wife, creampieing you.

"you want me to creampie your pussy? hm?". he whimpers out, breathing heavily so close to exploding inside of you.

"yes! yes! yes!". you whine out, hips bulking up, arching your back trying to suck his veiny cock inside your stick slimey hole.

he growls before shoving his fat cock inside of your puffy red pussy in one go, ripping a scream out of you before your mind go blank, passing out from the force of his bulky cock ripping your little hole.

his whole body covers you, as he huffs and grunts next to your ear, his perky nipples were brushing against yours as he fuck into you.

"what a-". thrust.

"fucking-". thrust.

"slut!". he thrust his girthy cock one more time in, hitting the cervix of your pussy before shooting robes of his boiling seeds inside of you. the veins on his cock throb as he creampie you.

he smirks, his ears perking up at the sound of who made it here ; gojo satoru. toji doesn't bother turning around, he casually pulls out his now sensitive cock, admiring the way your pussy was full of his cum, dripping down the bed sheets.

"what a fucking bitch". satoru hiss, pulling on his tie as he rolls up his sleeves, exposing his thick forearms. as he makes his way toward your filthy state. he tsks gazing at your bruised swollen pussy, gushing out tojis cum.

"i think we should teach her a lesson". toji smirks.

"we?". satoru mutters.

your eyes shoot open as you feel heavy pain shooting from your pussy, your eyes water, you're not able to breath.

"ah! look who finally woke up". your husband groans, his long cock was bruising the cervix of your tight pussy, while you were drooling on a mouth choker, not giving you any room to breath. your nipples were on fire, they were pinched hard with a nipple clipper.

"oh you're going to regret this love".

its been an hour, or maybe two? you can't remember how many times satoru creampied your sore pussy, how many times he fucked his hot load inside you. your body was shaking, your pussy was so swollen and sensitive, your hole was gaping, gushing gojos cum out as he fucks another load inside of you.

"no more-! please-! im sorry! ahhhhh-mmmm!". you hiccup, choking on your own tears and drool as you struggle to speak, you can't feel your nipples anymore.

you were fucked out of your mind, your body was trembling shaking as you sob and hiccup over simulated and full. a belly bludge was forming from how much cum was pounded in you.

"aw, what do you think fushiguro? is she sorry enough".

"no, fuck no she needs a better lesson". toji groans as he strokes his leaking cock while staring at you.

SUKUNA x READER x NANAMI - working at the office at night and you got horny, you start fingering your pussy thinking nobody is at work this late , what happens when sukuna your boss and his secretary nanami catch you.

you huff, your breath quickens as you squirm in your office chair uncomfortably, were you ovulating? why was your pussy this fucking horny and wet.

maybe you could just- no, no. but nobody is here anyways, you're pretty sure it's just you who's in the building right now plus the idea of rubbing your pussy like a pervert in the office only made you hornier as you rub your thighs together.

fuck it.

your hot breath quickens as you lift your skirt up, rubbing your pussy through your wet panties. while your your finger trail under your shirt squeezing your sensitive nipples through your bra.

it turned you on so much how filthy the feeling felt, rubbing your pussy like a slut in the middle of your work place. you slowly push your panties to the side before circling your swollen clit gently as you bite your lips trying to supress your moans.

pushing your bra down, you gasp as the cold air hit your sensitive nipples- fuck this is so dirty you thought to yourself as you plug your delicate fingers inside your tight wet pussy, feeling the way it tightly grip your fingers, coating it with warm sticky fluid as you pump them in and out.

while your other hand squeeze your perky nipples hard, your fingers pump faster, chasing your orgasm, throwing your head back and shutting your eyes tightly as your pussy start gushing warm juice down your pussy into your office chair.

your back arch, moaning to the ceiling before your pussy clench hard around your fingers and your juice spray everywhere, gushing down your folds making a mess on the chair. your thighs shaking, your wet pussy was throbbing while your boobs were out, heaving as you huff and puff.

your eyes snap as you hear someone sitting on a chair close to you. you gasp, making eye contact with non other then your boss sukuna. who was gazing at you hungrily like you were his prey.

your eyes shift to the man that stood next to him, starting at you through his glasses, nanami. your eyes switch between both of them your body freezing not knowing what to do or what to say.

"i-". you were cut off by sukunas husky voice as he man spread on his chair.

"don't let us interrupt you, continue". he mutter out, his thick legs spreading as he adjust the ragging hard on through his pants.

your eyes widen, your heart beating faster not believing what your boss just said, your eyes follow nanami as he place a chair next to his boss and have a seat, raising his eyebrows at you, giving you a hint to go on.

"im-". this time nanami doesn't let you finish.

"aren't you going to listen to your boss order already you fucking slut?". he growls.

you flinch, you can tell they aren't playing around with you as you gaze at their fat cocks that were pushing against their tight pants. your pussy clench at the size of them.

you can't believe this is happening, you whine rubbing your over sensitive clit staring at the way your boss sukuna was palming his cock as he hazely gaze at you.

"shove a finger in". nanami command you, his gaze never leaving your pussy.

you whimper at his words before slowly pushing your finger in, spreading your thighs wide, placing them on the handle of the chair giving the two man in front of you a full view of how your pussy grip tightly on your finger before sloppily sucking it in.

sukuna curse, his jaw clenched hard as he rub his fat cock harder, you can see the way the tip of his cock was leaking, soaking the fabric of his pants.

your body was on fire, your brain was foggy with pleasure, the office was filled with the sloppy sounds your dirty pussy made as you pounding it with your fingers- filled with the heavy breathing and grunts that came out the two man in front of you.

sukunas wet tongue peaked out to lick his dry lips, before unzipping his pants and freeing his hard huge leaking cock, your throat dried as you stare at the thickness of his cock- fuck it would destroy you.

he hiss as his thumb press on his mushroomy red tip, smearing his precum around his sensitive tip before tugging on the base of his cock. nanami was right next to him not making a move to touch his twitching cock but you can see the pool of cum that was coating his pants- he came in his pants.

your whines got louder, omg you were so close to losing it- you were so close to spraying your hot juice everywhere-

"stop". sukuna groans out, still stroking his thick cock. you whimper, listening to his command.

"crawl over here like a good girl".

here you were on your knees, your ass swaying as you crawl your way to the men in front of you like an obedient dog, their huge figure towering over you.

nanami already has his pink cock out, they were stroking it in front of your face, you rub your thighs together trying to relief the itch and sukuna notice because he place his foot under your skirt.

rubbing the leather fabric of his shoes against your wet pussy, you cry out, grinding it against it like a dog in heat. their cocks were so close to your face yet so far, you can feel the heat of their warm fat cocks throbbing in front of your face, their red tip were getting pumped so hard with their rough hands.

"tongue out". nanami growls out, huffing as he strokes his dick harder. you immediately obey, your wet tongue was out, your hot breath fanning against their sensitive tip throw them to the edge.

robes of hot cum shoot on your face and tongue, heavy grunts and whines were coming out of them as they squeeze the last bit of load into your face.

while some of their cum dripped down the floor, not pleasing your boss because he grabs your hair and push it toward the floor.

"lick it clean you fucking slut".

CHOSO x READER x GETO - being a sugar mommy meaning you can have two boyfriends?

it was 5am in the morning, the birds hasn't chirped yet, lewd wet sounds filled the room, choso was under your meaty pussy lips his flushed face was coated with your hot wetness, dripping from his red swollen lips to his flushed cheeks down to the pillow under him.

he was drowning with the hot fluid your puffy pussy was gushing out as the long bridge of his nose was fucking into your sticky hole, gripping so hard on it not giving him any room to breath.

while he's the cold metal of his tongue piercing was lapping on your swollen clit, suckling on it like a baby suckling on a nipple.

"mmmmm- it's so go-! ahhh". choso slurr on his words not being able to control the way his hips was bukling up, the precum leaking down his clit as he hump the air making his poor cock more sensitive.

cum was coating his cock from how many times he came untouched, the swollen head of his fat cock kept leaking cum, dripping down the veins on his base as they twitch and throb just from the taste of your wet pussy.

you would have told him how much of a good boy he is but your mouth was already full with getos thick cock. his warm seeds were overflowing your mouth from how much cum you sucked out of him.

it was spilling down your swollen bruised lips. "fuck- mmm pleasssse no more-! i can't-". geto whines, his dick was over simulated, so sensitive inside your wet mouth.

you squeeze his balls hard, geto shudders he felt like he's going to piss, his hand immediately flys to your hair gripping hard on it trying to push you away.

"fuck! mommy-ahhhhh! i gotta pee-". he sob out, choking on his drool, trying to supress the huge urge to piss directly down your throat.

his words doesn't stop you, but only make you massage the squishy tip of his cock with your throat, squeezing your throat harder on his cock while you ride chosos nose faster.

slaming your pussy down his nose, causing your juice to splash on his face. suguru couldn't hold it anymore.

your eyes roll back as you feel the hot liquid spraying down your throat, geto was shaking, eyes crossed as you suck the life out of him.

but you don't forget to also reward choso, squirting all over his face, gifting him a spurt of your juice as he doesn't waist a single drop drinking everything you gave him.

[hurlingdown]

                     𝜗𝜚 BABY, FERVOUR!

synopsis. what better way to celebrate new years than giving in to baby fever? guess you’ll just have to breed him all night long until he gets pregnant. wc. 5.2k

tags. top! reader, sub! gojo, toji, sukuna, geto separately. reader has a cock. baby fever, pregnancy kink, breeding kink. set in the a/b/o world as a plot device for mpreg. true-form sukuna & beast! reader, afab! geto, toji is a father of six (nine now). creampies, rough anal & vaginal sex, feminization, primal play, slut-shaming, dacryphilia, overstim, oviposition (only sukuna), daddy/mommy kink, full nelson, kitchen sex, mounting, nesting, size difference, belly bulging, mean tummy pushing, praise kink, degradation, extremely cockdrunk! suguru. whiny, needy jjk men.

a/n. you should know the drill by now . . . enjoy!

“. . . make a baby?” satoru whined, headily peering up at you between two spread, quivering thighs, held up invitingly for you. “heard it- it takes a lot of hard work to make one . . . ” 

“yes,” you grunted, brows fixed together in concentration as you gazed down at your lustrous mate, his lidded eyes glazed over in pure bliss. he was spread prettily underneath you, lewd pants and whimpers tumbling out of kiss-bitten lips as your cock continued to stretch tautly at his pink, puffy rim, forcing its way in one fat inch by one fat inch. “‘s that mean you don’t wanna? m-make a baby. with me.” 

satoru shook his head quickly, cheeks heating up as you repeated that phrase again. 

“‘course i wanna!” he mewled out, glossy eyes peering up at you in mock offense, “if it’s with you… i th-think it’d be okay.” he glanced away, cheeks heating up as though he was embarrassed by the idea of carrying your child, but you weren’t having any of that. 

satoru sobbed out a piteous whine as your girthy length dragged along his spongy walls as though it wanted to leave, feeling himself clench eagerly around it to restore the fullness. “noo, come back,” he whined, sharp nails raking down your back in pretty red trails, letting out a happy purr when you thrust to the hilt again, filling his stomach up. 

“‘m talking ‘bout a baby, satoru, not some toy…” you huffed disapprovingly, pressing a gentle kiss to the sensitive underside of his jaw, to which he let out a shrilly gasp at. “a baby right here.” you gave his tummy a little prod, and he whimpered, his walls pulsating around you at the mere thought of you planting a seed right there… a dirty little secret buried deep inside him, where no one would know but the two of you. “that’s what i want. do you understand me, ‘toru?” 

“i knoow what you’re talkin’ about,” satoru slurred sousedly, pupils dilated as proof of his intense arousal. he palmed his pudgy tummy with one hand, mimicking your earlier actions, before glaring up at you. “‘m not stupid, i’m the best. ‘said i want a baby, so gimme one, ‘kay? your baby.” 

“i heard it takes a lot of hard work to make one, though,” you carefully repeated his own words, a sly grin slowly etching itself onto your face. he mumbled something under his breath that sounded awfully like ‘meanie’ before it sharpened into a whine as you pressed harder into the curved cusp of his hips, the fullness making it almost hard to breathe. “hours and hours of labour and hard work non-stop, in fact.” you huffed out a soft laugh, “well, it’s me doing the hard work anyway, but you won’t get to rest at all. you sure you can handle that, baby? might as well keep you on my cock all night long if you’re up for it…” 

he nodded enthusiastically, treating this like a challenge as he always would. satoru was the best. the best omega in all of the clans: tight sopping hole, negligible gag reflex, and a fertile womb that was always, always ready for breeding. and if you wanted a child, he was going to be the best child-bearer in the world. 

“put a baby in me,” he told you, firmly. “and don’t you dare stop until you do.” 

and that was all you needed to snap. 

like a man possessed, you snarled a quick curse into his neck, nipping at the mating bite you had embedded there on the side with stark affection before getting to work. two sweaty palms found their way onto the thick of his hips, gripping and squeezing, roughly yanking him back to meet every violent nudge of your bulbous cockhead against his prostate gland, now throbbing sweetly and starting to swell. 

satoru sobbed out your name loudly in querulous, broken syllables, thrashing wildly under your grip, but you didn’t let go—never would, only held on as your omega clutched on to your shoulders equally as tight. you would fulfil your promise, make him yours in every sense of the word. you would impregnate him. 

“gonna make you a mommy,” you heaved out, pressing down onto his softened tummy. you wanted to make him feel you inside, thick and hefty and pulsing with life, and he wailed out, the pressure on his slightly distended stomach increasing tenfold with one single push of your hot palm. “gonna make you full and round n’ swollen with me. is that what you want, ‘toru? to get knocked up like a good cumslut?” 

“yes,” satoru snivelled, tears dotting on his lashes as he whined pitifully at you. “a-alpha. ‘m your good cumslut omega. please...” he didn’t know what he was pleading for, he didn’t care, as long as at the end of the day, he would be stuffed to the brim with cum and seed with your knot plugging him up, a baby slowly starting to grow inside his womb as he dozes off to sweet, sweet dreams. 

“shit,” you growled, stiff grip pressing bruises onto flawless skin while you plowed into his soppy cave, making him keen at the rough treatment. all of this was making you dizzy with desire. you couldn’t wait to see his pretty tummy grow round with the baby you put in him. “wanna knock you up so bad, baby,” you whined into his ear, “you have no idea. gonna make you mine, ruin you for anyone else…” 

satoru sobbed out a moan, the sheer intensity of your words making his hole drool with want and anticipation, gummy walls squeezing around you with an obscene squelch. all he could feel was himself getting wetter and wetter, wetter and wetter… drenching the mattress with how much slick he was producing, the viscous substance practically pouring out of his birthing cavern like a waterslide. 

he had never been so fucking aroused in his life. the idea of his body slowly growing plump and heavy with your child, all fat and waddling around in his pregnancy, hands poised underneath his huge stomach to support it… 

you probably wouldn’t let him walk around much after pumping a baby into him, would you? you would probably strap him to the bed, keeping him pregnant and barefoot on your cock for the rest of the days to come. the strongest sorcerer in the world, reduced to nothing but a cumdump and a child-bearer. 

fuck, he was going to cum so hard. 

“gonna cum soon, baby,” you panted. “gonna cum in your pretty womb and you’ll take it, ‘kay?” 

satoru shuddered, crying out as he felt you grow bigger, your knot thickening at the base, making his rim stretch impossibly wider. “p-please. want it inside,” he weeped, desperate tears dribbling down his rosy cheeks in salty globs, to which you lapped up eagerly. “want your baby so much…” 

you gripped onto his hips harder, pressing them securely into the cushiony mattress while you pounded into the cramped space in his sloppy hole, making him yell out a filthy scream of your name, jackknifing off the bed and cumming all over his filled tummy in several, messy spurts. 

“yeah. and ‘m gonna do exactly that, princess,” you panted, sloppily kissing his neck while continuing to plow at his taut, tumid hole, still greedily fluttering around you despite the mind-blowing orgasm, wanting to be bred. “gonna put a baby- in you. get this tummy nice n’ round for -me, yeah?” 

“please,” satoru sobbed brokenly. he swore he couldn’t take it anymore if you didn’t cum inside him in the next minute. he was going to lose his fucking mind. “get me pregnant already!” 

at his warbled consent, you couldn’t hold back a primal snarl of ‘omega’ into his ear before sending a harsh, well-aimed thrust against his tumefied sweet spot, the beefy tip crushing itself against the throbbing, overstimulated gland, causing a loud wail to ring from your pretty mate. with a loud, guttural grunt, you forced your knot deeper inside his puffy rim, seizing and trembling before filling him up with thick ropes of warm cum. 

satoru gawped at you with watery eyes, keening and trembling with exhaustion as your knot settled deep and safely into his womb, stuffing him full of baby batter. you really had went and knocked him up now… and from the way you kept on crooning, greedy hands kneading his now swollen stomach with a terrible insistence, you definitely weren’t planning on stopping after one. 

FUSHIGURO TOJI

“you wanna what,” toji snarled, breath coming out in soft, frisky puffs as you carefully folded the omega in his favourite position—the full nelson. “‘m not in the mood for your ngh, fuckin’ jokes.” 

“i’m not playing with you,” you grit out, panting harshly into the valley of his neck and shoulder, licking a hot stripe from his dewy scent gland to the sensitive back of his ear, earning you a shiver. you mustered a low grunt as your cock slotted into his tight hole with a sloppy shlick, his walls instinctively closing in on you, keeping you safely tucked inside. “i want another baby, toji. wanna, heh, get you pregnant.” 

“y’er actually serious.” toji gave a nonchalant wriggle, getting you to loosen your grip on him, before sharply rolling his hips down to fully settle onto your lap—the sticky back of his rear now flattened against your straining quads, groaning as your thick cock slid in deeper into his soaked cavern. “fuuck. that’s more like it. fuck the stomach—think i can feel your dumb cock all the way in my throat.” 

the both of you panted wordlessly as you let his puffy rim get used to the heavy stretch, pleasured hums slipping from him as you smothered his neck and shoulders with red and purple love bites, tenderly licking over the teethmarks you had put on the side of his neck the first time you had consummated. 

“y’said you want another baby? get me pregnant? that it, stupid alpha?” toji muttered, giving you an impassive side-glance, but you knew he was excited from the idea with how much slick was leaking, no, pouring out from around your shaft, drenching your cock with his arousal. “bet you just like, ah- the thought of seein’ me all round and useless. bein’ an absolute slut for your,” he bit back a whine as you thrusted up into his sopping hole, “c-cock. ah, your big, fuckin’ cock… good for nothin’ but gettin’ me pregnant. hah.” 

a lewd ‘pap’ sounded as you bottomed out again, the convex tip weeping in unison with his fluttering walls, prodding him in places that sent stars swarming in his eyes. he could feel himself clench with every movement, his stretched hole growing wet and sticky at each drag of your thick girth, hot and throbbing inside him. it didn’t help that you were groaning and grunting in his ear, hips trembling every time you bucked up into his swollen, dripping hole, feverish body bounding his in such a taut, intimate position that allowed minimal movement on his half—that had his inner omega keening. 

“he does more than that,” you muttered, rolling your hips up so you could rub your shaft directly against his sore stomach walls, “and you know it.” toji gave a dry sob, clinging on to his own thighs as the round bulge of your cock appeared on his abdomen, deep and sinfully thick. almost resembling a baby bump. you couldn’t help but croon at his reaction to your little trick, starting to thrust into his wet cave again. “h-he’s- definitely very good at getting you pregnant, though, heh…” 

toji could feel his instincts acting up again at the way you were talking to him—making him want to fold his arms, press his chest into the mattress with his back arched like a good omega and raise his ass to the skies just so you could plunder him and put a baby inside his needy womb. fuck. he needed to get pregnant. he needed your seed inside him, filling him up to the brim of leaking, your bulbous knot securing the entrance of his slutty little hole, preventing anything from dripping out… and making sure he’d conceive. 

“fuck me,” he growled, “as many times as it’ll take. fuck a baby into me. a-another one. i want a fucking litter, you hear me?” 

“so demanding,” you panted, despite feeling yourself grow dizzy at his obscene words. “i’ll give you as many as you can take—don’t wanna tire you out, baby. y’remember last time when you had the, ah- twins? doubt we can fit more than- hn, three, though, in that little hole of yours.” 

“it’s not little if even your stupidly big cock can fit inside,” he scoffed. “i said i want a litter. now shut up and fuck me ‘till you give me one.” 

biting back instinctual dislike of this being not the traditional mounting position to mate and breed—it was your omega’s favourite after all, so it’d do—you continued to plow at his soppy hole, each filthy push and pull with the only intent of fulfilling your role as his sire. pumping a baby, a pup, into his sweet womb, making his tummy grow big and round with the product of your hard work. it was amazing, really, how all of this could occur from one spurt of hot cum deep into your beautiful mate. 

you could feel toji’s body shuddering with pleasure, sharp claws sinking into your forearms and whichever part of you he could physically reach, small mewls punched out of him with every thrust. but that wouldn’t do. not while you were making love to him. you wanted to make him cry. make him scream, preferably, eyes crossing and back arching as he sobbed out his pleasure to the world. 

adjusting the angle of your hips, you tightened your grappling hold on him before grinding up, a smirk cutting across your face as you heard him choke on a moan, legs quivering where they hung on the crook of your elbows, evidently overstimulated. he wasn’t going anywhere, now. not until you bred him properly like he had asked. this was your duty as mate. 

“too much,” he gasped, “too fuckin’ much, slow down—” 

“keep up, baby. you asked for this,” you hummed, nipping at his shoulder as he squirmed on your cock, rim flittering tirelessly around the bulk of your cock. “just let me do my job, yeah?” 

“fuck—you.” 

“in case you didn’t notice, i’m currently trying very hard.” 

toji whimpered helplessly, tight walls squeezing the life out of your cock, as though he were trying to milk every last bit out of you. you could feel yourself dripping inside him with every heavy slosh—every push and pull of your shaft against his cramped hole, pre-cum mingling with his slick, creating one big, wet mess inside him that would soon grow into a tiny bundle of joy. 

“gonna look sooo fucking pretty with my baby in you, toji,” you cooed into his ear, rewarding you with a feeble shiver and an answering whine. you bucked your hips, pushing deeper and deeper before allowing your knot to slowly take form, stretching him across the entrance with the heavy, swollen end of it. “like always. or maybe it’s gonna be twins this time. triplets. fuck, baby. you’re gonna look so beautiful.” 

he sobbed out as thick, warm cum began to flood him, making him clamp around you intuitively to keep everything inside—the unexpected pleasure buzzing through you sharply and making you grunt and jerk, another hot spurt of cum into his pretty womb. 

“if we don’t get triplets, we’re trying again,” toji mumbled, gaze hazy, almost cumdrunk, stomach flexing in anticipation as you poured the last of your seed into him with a soft sigh of agreement. 

RYŌMEN SUKUNA

“put your fuckin’ spawn in me?” the curse scoffed, craning his neck to glare at you with his bottom left eye. “‘s about damn time you asked.” 

you had him on all fours (sixes), back arched and hips raised like a proper omega presenting in heat, panting and shivering as you bent over his body with your lumbering own. you could feel the drool building up in your mouth from the mere anticipation of impregnating your mate, filling him to the brim with your eggs and cum, breeding little beasts into his eager, fertile womb. 

you leaned down to nuzzle his neck in affirmation, clumsily canting your hips backwards before pushing them until they rested flush against his plush ass, choking a needy whine out of him. his walls squeezed around you in retaliation, still needing to adjust to the all-too-big intrusion despite having done this hundreds of times, the heaviness of your cock resting against inside him almost a familiar comfort. 

“this better- not be just your rut talking,” sukuna muttered, a low growl reverbrating at the back of his throat, quietening after you let out a soothing croon of your own, tenderly licking over his mating bite. “i’ll f-fucking flay you alive if it is.” 

“no,” you denied, but you think you’d let him do it anyway. you’d do anything for him. kill, slaughter, guard him with your life. you were his, heart, body and soul, and you’d slit your own throat if you left him wanting anything for a split second. 

still struggling to find a rhythm with how much he was writhing and snarling underneath you, his mind unused to such open submission, with him freely exposing his back and neck to you, your claws being able to reach his stomach within a blink of an eye; and yet his body was practically vibrating with how much it yearned for the pleasure that came with yielding to you, having your big, clawed hands branding his body, the weight of your touch anchoring him to the present. 

fuck. children, sukuna thought, a sob dragged out of his lips, wrecked, as the head of your cock rammed against his throbbing sweet spot. little yous, cute and fanged and savage, with your bruising grip on his hips and the feral snarl of his name into the sweaty scent gland of his neck, swollen cock working in and out of him with utmost devotion at one single directive that he had given you only moments ago—to get him pregnant. 

what would they be like? would they inherit your gentleness? or the side of your angry beast? he wanted them all. wanted all that you could give him. wanted you to fill him up, make his tummy grow and grow, stuffed with your spawn and seed until he was positive he couldn’t take any more. to the edge of spilling, breaking, bursting. 

sukuna let out a throaty groan at that, head thrown back as he gave a full-body shudder, his first orgasm burning through him as his cocks spurted onto the nest in enthusiasm. “fuck,” he panted, slumping down in exhaustion, a protesting whine tumbling out as you continued to move in and out of him despite the sensitive fluttering of his hole. “a-asshole, can’t you see—hnngh.” 

you palmed at the fat of his ass, crooning as you heard your mate whimper, head ducked down to hide in the nest, almost shy. “it is okay,” you rumbled, forked tongue laving over his scent gland in comfort, the fragrant, oily tang of his scent making you muster out a low keen. he was so sweet, so perfect, as always. he deserved everything and more. “i will… take care of you.” 

and you meant every word of it. until he was bathed in the making of your children, your spawn, you wouldn’t stop. 

“sukuna,” you growled, rocking down into his waiting hole with meaning, wanting him to feel every girthy inch of you, the drag, the glide. “sukuna. sukuna.” 

“yes, i fucking get it,” he bit back a snarl, turning his head to let you catch a glimpse of his teary eyes. “don’t stop. fuck. it feels so good. you feel so fucking good.” 

he whined louder as you picked up your pace, nails ripping up the nest into near shreds, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care with the noises he was making, making the heat inside you grow ever hotter, making your hips move of their own accord, bucking into the warm, cosy chamber of his womb of their own accord. 

you could hear with every gurgle inside his tummy, his slick intermixing with all the precome that was squirting out of your cock in frenzied arousal, making a comfy nest for your length to settle into for mere moments before sliding out again. soon, it would become home for your eggs, a soft cushion for them to rest upon until it was ready for them to hatch. all of them, inside him. you would have no one else bear them. 

“sukuna,” you repeated, one clawed hand going around his torso to palm at his stomach, not quite full yet, but nonetheless bulging with your girthiness. “here, sukuna. please, please.” you pushed and kneaded at the swell of his tummy, strugging to tuck your claws away in the dizziness of heat and want clouding your instincts, but keeping them a safe distance from him and the seedbed of your spawn. “want to put them in here. make you full of me. want it so much.” 

“yeah,” sukuna choked out, tears sliding down his cheeks from all four of his eyes, chest heaving with breath as you took and took from him, the curb of his hole puffy from all the stretching. he could feel you growing, still, your knot starting heavy and thick from the base, and he held back a keen of his own, wanting nothing but for you to plug him up and make him your personal breeding grounds. just you, him, and whatever you would give him tonight and in the coming weeks of your rut, whether it be a nestful of eggs, or stomachfuls of your cum. 

he would take it all, like a good omega. he would do it for you. only for you. 

“breed me,” sukuna whimpered, two hands reaching back to clutch at your shoulders, your neck—any part of you that he could reach. “t-tired of seein’ an empty nest. want eggs. was waitin’ for you to fucking ask. wanted them for ages. fuck them into me.” you could feel his thighs trembling with the strain of holding his hips up for you, strength long gone, and he would have collapsed if it weren’t for you dutifully grasping them, making sure they were pressed flush against yours. 

you hissed out, low, soothing croons spilling out one after one as you heard the first pained cry coming from your mate, the sweet shape of his womb distending to make space for the first egg. “it is okay,” you whispered again and again throughout, lapping messily at his neck and cheek, a primal resemblance of a kiss. “you are okay.” 

sukuna allowed two of his eyes to flutter shut (the other two on alert, now that he had something to protect), two hands joining yours, resting against his now bloated stomach. relishing in the vibrations of your purrs and trills, and responding with some of his own. he could feel the shape of the egg inside him, scaled and ovoid and perfect. 

if this was the aftermath of pregnancy, if this was the outcome of hours and hours of lovemaking and feral snarls of pleasure into the crook of his neck, then sukuna would sacrifice anything, anything to feel this way again. this love, this tenderness, shaped by two hands cradling his soon-to-be newborn, the heartbeat of another pressed against his throbbing own. 

GETO SUGURU

suguru couldn’t believe it. you were breeding him in the fucking kitchen, of all places. 

“too much,” suguru sobbed, hot tears clinging to his lashes as he glanced back at you, bent over the kitchen counter. he could hear every slosh and squelch inside his sore cunt, as though your cock were trying to whip all the baby batter stuffed inside him into shape. “puh-please. i can’t, daddy. ‘s too much.” 

“nuh-uh, suguru. you can take it,” you gently reprimanded, one hand settling on his ass, squeezing the flesh lightly, making him jostle and whine. “you said you wanted a baby, right? daddy’s gonna give you a baby. now, we don’t tolerate going back on our word, do we, sweetheart?” 

“no,” the omega keened, hips trembling lightly as you impaled him again and again, thick girth making his folds part and lips stretch just to accommodate you. you could feel him shivering against you, evidently overstimulated, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, with the piece of heaven that you were currently inside. tight, warm and extremely wet, a perfect, snug fit for your cock. you couldn’t wait to spill inside hm again, another load of cum inside his soaked womb, another chance of him getting pregnant. “but it’s too good, daddy, please…” 

“do you wanna stop, suguru? does it hurt?” you paused, eyebrows fixing together in concern. a whine of protest tore from his throat almost immediately, hips squirming as he tried to fuck himself back onto your cock. he shook his head rapidly, mouthing ‘please, no’ while blinking up at you tearily. “okay, okay…” 

he let out a sob of relief as you started moving again, despite how he could feel his toes clenching and hips shuddering with every overstimulating thrust, his core aching and swollen. he was practically relying on your firm grasp on his waist and the leverage he had on the counter to stay standing, the strength having long left his legs. but suguru had to endure. it was for the baby, of course. it would all be worth it in the end. 

“good boy, suguru. just one more, and then we’ll take a break, okay?” you murmured soothingly, your hot palm a comfort on the small of his back, steadying him and making sure he won’t fall, grounding him to the present of your lovemaking. “daddy’s gonna take good care of you, just like always.” you rolled your hips in slow circles, making sure not to go too fast, watching his slick cling onto your girth in a wet, shiny sheen of sticky cream. you groaned your pleasure as you bottomed out, feeling him clench around you in rapid flutters, small whines slipping out from your lover in tumbles. 

“okay,” he mumbled. “put a baby in me, daddy.” 

that sent a pleasure-addled shiver down your spine and right down your cock, pre squirting out from the head, making him croon happily as more of your warmth settled inside his womb. “little brat,” you scolded, a playful lilt to your tone, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, to which he shivered at. you couldn’t wait to get your hands on his swollen tummy once you were done with him. it was going to be round and full and perfect, pulsing with the perfect concoction of you and him. 

“faster,” suguru whined, “harder. want it s-so much, daddy. give me a baby.” 

you grunted in response, grip sliding onto his hips as you tugged him back onto your cock, the wet ‘pap’ of skin against skin ringing in the air, driving your length deeper into his welcoming hole with more force than before. he cried out as you sunk further into his sloppy pussy with another stroke of your shaft against his twitching, oversensitive walls, pulsating around you in rhythm. 

suguru’s fingers clawed down the marble, soft whines and uneven breaths punched out of swollen lips as he struggled to hold himself up with your harsh, increasing thrusts, refusing to slump downright onto the table even as you pounded into him like you were pestle, and he was mortar. 

“always biting off more than you can chew,” you huffed, palms smoothing over the thick of his hips and down to his round, plush ass, before giving it a little slap for good measure—and he whined out sharply, shuddering with arousal from the streak of pain. “you never learn, do you, baby?” 

“‘s a lot,” suguru bit down on his lip, holding in the sob building at the back of his throat. the pleasure was simply too good, every strike of your bulbous head against his throbbing sweet spot setting his nerve ends on fire and flames, lust clouding his vision with how your hands were branding him as your own—your hips never once pausing in their mission to impregnate him even as he whined and sobbed and begged. 

“but it’s okay. y’can do a-anything you want to me,” he mumbled, pausing to rub at his glossy eyes before peering at you from over his shoulder. “‘s long as you make me pregnant, ‘kay?” 

it was at that moment that you realised, suguru with baby fever was a very dangerous thing. with a low, almost primal snarl into the bruised skin of his neck, you pulled out swiftly and flipped your omega around, sitting him on the counter just as he glanced down at you with wide, stunned eyes, a petulant whine on the edge of being uttered before you silenced him with a kiss. 

“daddy,” suguru whined against your lips, clumsily grabbing at your shoulders, even as you mouthed messily at him, the kiss more tongue and spit than anything, feral and a little violent with his claws now gaining purchase in raking down your back. “‘nough kissing. put it back in. want your cock in me.”  

lips parting with a wet smack, you guided your cock to rut against his sopping folds, making sure he could feel it, all of it—the hot, filthy drag of your girth against his needy cunt, stroking and teasing but never entering. he gawked up at you in betrayal, whining needily and nudging his hips forward, trying to entice you to fuck him, a frown pulling at the corners of his lips when it didn’t work. 

it hit him, then, just what you were waiting for. 

“‘m sorry, i forgot—” he rushed over his words, arms slung onto your shoulders in a half-cage, leaning forward to kiss your cheek sweetly. “please, daddy.” 

“good,” you hummed. maybe you spoiled him a little too much, but now he sat, shivering and obedient, your cock spearing his cunt in one strong thrust. in this new position you were able to reach way deeper, the tapered tip delicately kissing the opening of his cervix, making your mate sob and croon with the fullness of it all. 

“now hold on tight for me, okay?” you whispered into the sweaty curve of his neck, to which he nodded pliantly to with a pout, “‘cause daddy’s not gonna stop until he puts a baby in your tummy.” 

masterlist!

[cbeargyu]

daddy's babygirl

summary: your childhood teacher jake is now your stepdad, and when you’re alone, you share a secret, forbidden, intense affair filled with domination and desire.

pairing: stepdad!jake x stepdaughter!fem reader

genre: smut, explicit adult content, forbidden stepfamily relationship, teacher/student past dynamic, dom/sub with daddy kink, slow burn, secret affair, angst, drama, heavy sexual themes, multiple positions, oral, creampie, emotional manipulation.

warnings: explicit sexual content, incestuous stepfamily relationship, non-consensual power dynamics implied, age gap, dirty talk, degradation, strong language, exhibitionism, oral sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, emotional manipulation, secrecy, potential triggering themes.

STRONG WARNING!! this content contains sensitive themes such as forbidden family relationships, power dynamics, and explicit sexual material. if these topics make you uncomfortable or aren’t your preference, please do not read or leave hateful comments. respect and understanding appreciated. thank you.

wc: 5k

notes: don’t ask me where i got the inspiration for this lol 🤣 ok no for real i hope you like it, i’ve had this idea for a while but hesitated bc of how sensitive the topic is??? even tho i’ve read a lot of similar stuff here, i know it’s kinda taboo or frowned upon. but it’s all fiction and i write it for those who enjoy my content :) thank you all!! please leave your thoughts!

taglist: @hrtsformark @matchacake2 @sea-moon-star @itaehynz @mymayaship @reep04 @lexieisyourbestie @princesspeachicedtea @partyinthebackroom

it had been years since you’d last seen jake sim, and yet the memory of him had never really faded. back in primary school, he had been the teacher everyone liked—young, effortlessly charming, patient in a way that made you look forward to every day you had him. he never raised his voice, he always smelled like cedar and something faintly sweet, and his soft smiles lingered in your mind much longer than they should’ve for a little girl with a secret crush on her homeroom teacher. he was your first real fantasy, tucked away in the back of your mind like a guilty treasure you never planned to admit to anyone. but time passed, as it always does, and he was filed into that distant, unreachable place where childhood dreams went to quietly die.

until now.

your mother had been glowing the day she called you home, her voice light and airy as she said she had someone special she wanted you to meet. you hadn’t expected much—just another name to eventually forget, just another dinner to get through with a polite smile. you certainly hadn’t expected her to walk into the living room with jake fucking sim at her side, his arm loosely wrapped around her waist, that same smile on his lips that had once haunted your preteen daydreams. he looked even better now, age only sharpening the edges of his jaw, filling out his frame with something more solid, more commanding. his hair was darker, styled a little differently, but his eyes were still the same—warm, brown, and gently unreadable.

“you remember jake, don’t you?” your mother had asked, her voice chipper, oblivious. “he used to be your teacher. small world, right?”

you tried to play it off, tried to force a surprised smile that didn’t look as stunned as you felt, but the blood had drained from your face too quickly and your lips parted before you could control them. of course you remembered. he had been the blueprint of every silly romantic fantasy you’d ever had, the reason you started liking older men in the first place, the quiet storm that awakened something hot and confusing in you when you were barely old enough to understand it. and now—now he was your stepfather. your fucking stepfather.

the wedding had been small and quick, not even a year after they’d started dating. you smiled in photos, clinked glasses during toasts, hugged jake when it was appropriate. you kept your distance when it wasn’t. you’d convinced yourself you were being dramatic, that your feelings were just nostalgia and hormones, that he was just a man, and your mom was happy now, so you should be too. and for the most part, you managed. you were in university now, busy with exams and essays, and you didn’t even live in the same house. you only came back on weekends or for holidays—short bursts of time where you could avoid being alone with him, where you could keep yourself sane.

but then came the weekend your mom had to visit your grandmother, three cities away. she left on a thursday afternoon, bags packed and cheerful goodbyes tossed over her shoulder, her voice echoing from the hallway that she’d be back sunday evening, and to take care of each other. jake had offered to drive her, but she insisted he stay—he had grading to finish, classes to prepare. you had exams to study for, so you hadn’t planned on going either. it wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. a few quiet days at home. easy.

except it wasn’t.

the house felt too quiet with just the two of you. every sound was louder, every interaction thicker with something unspoken. he was kind, attentive in that same subtle way that had always undone you—asking how your studying was going, offering to help if you needed a break, his voice low and calm whenever it caught you off guard in the kitchen or the hallway. he smiled at you like he always had, except now it lingered just a little too long. he didn’t look away as quickly anymore. and maybe you were imagining it, maybe you were projecting every filthy thought you’d buried deep down onto every glance and gesture—but something in the air was shifting, slowly, maddeningly, and you could feel it.

you didn’t plan to have dinner together, but jake insisted that night. it was saturday. he leaned against the kitchen counter with a glass of wine in his hand and said it made no sense to eat separately when it was just the two of you. “besides,” he said, tilting his head slightly, eyes scanning your face like he was trying to read it. “i haven’t had a real conversation with you in weeks. feels like you’re avoiding me.”

you laughed too quickly, denying it without really denying it, trying not to focus on the way his voice sounded thicker when he spoke softly like that. you ended up sitting across from him, legs brushing under the table, wine warming your veins more than it should’ve. the food was good—he’d cooked, of course he had, because jake sim was perfect like that—and the conversation was easy, almost too easy. you talked about classes, books, music, and when your hand reached for your glass at the same time his did, your fingers touched and stayed there, barely, just long enough for the world to tilt a little.

you didn’t move your hand away, and neither did he. your eyes lifted slowly, caught in his gaze before you could pretend to be unaffected. something in the way he looked at you made your stomach twist—not fatherly, not polite, not innocent. it was too still, too focused, like he’d been waiting. the silence stretched between you, heavy and intimate, until he finally leaned in just a little closer and said your name—low, drawn-out, like a question and an answer all at once.

“do you think i haven’t noticed?” he asked, his voice quieter now, like it wasn’t meant for anyone but you. “the way you look at me? like you used to when you were too young to understand it.”

your breath caught in your throat. the wine had made you reckless, or maybe it was just the years of keeping everything bottled up, the months of pretending this house wasn’t suffocating you every time he was near. you didn’t deny it. you couldn’t. and maybe that was all he needed, because the next thing you knew, his hand was under your chin, tilting your face up, thumb grazing your bottom lip.

“you’ve grown up so much,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “beautiful. all this time i thought i was imagining it, but you want this, don’t you?”

you didn’t answer with words. you didn’t need to. your lips parted under his thumb, your thighs pressing together under the table, and when he leaned in the rest of the way and kissed you, it was nothing like your first kiss was supposed to be. it was desperate, hungry, years of suppressed want spilling over in the heat of his mouth. he kissed you like he was claiming you, and you let him. you kissed him back like you’d been waiting your whole life to be kissed like that—by him.

his hands were on your waist, pulling you out of the chair and up against him before you could think. your back bumped against the counter as he pushed between your thighs, his fingers trailing under the hem of your shirt, dragging up your spine and leaving your skin tingling in his wake. the kiss broke only when he had to pull your top off, lips returning to your collarbone, your throat, your jaw, biting and sucking like he couldn’t decide which part of you he wanted most.

“fuck, you taste the same as i imagined,” he muttered, voice ragged as his mouth found your chest, tongue swirling over one nipple before he sucked it into his mouth, making you gasp and arch into him. “i used to jerk off thinking about what you’d sound like. now i get to hear it.”

his words went straight to your core, shameless and raw, and it made your knees weak. you tried to speak, tried to say his name, but all that came out was a breathy whimper as his hand slid between your thighs, palming you over your shorts, feeling how wet you already were for him. you should’ve felt embarrassed—he was your mother’s husband now, a man you were supposed to call family—but all you felt was heat, like every nerve in your body was pulsing in time with his fingers.

“you’re soaked,” he growled, pushing your shorts down roughly, dropping to his knees like he was worshipping you, like this was something he’d been craving for years. he spread your legs open, hooking them over his shoulders, and dragged his tongue over your slit with a low groan. “this pussy’s been waiting for me, hasn’t it? fuck, i knew you wanted it. you were always such a good little girl in class… never thought you’d be such a needy thing underneath.”

you cried out when he sucked your clit into his mouth, one hand gripping the edge of the counter, the other tangled in his hair as he devoured you like it was his last meal. he didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, just kept licking, circling, fucking you with his tongue until your legs were shaking and your stomach was tightening with an orgasm that was already starting to hit.

“j-jake—” you gasped, broken and breathless, but he didn’t stop.

“that’s it,” he whispered against you, wet mouth hot and sinful. “cum on my tongue, baby. show me how much you missed me.”

and you did—your body tensed and trembled as the orgasm ripped through you, your moans filling the kitchen, your thighs squeezing around his head. he groaned into you, drinking every drop, only pulling back when you were twitching and weak, your hands clutching at him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

but he didn’t give you a moment to recover. he stood, licking his lips like a man starved, and turned you around with firm hands, bending you over the counter before you could speak. his cock was hard against your ass, straining through his pants, and when he finally freed it, the weight of it rested hot and heavy between your cheeks.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” he hissed, lining himself up without warning. “how many nights i thought about bending you over like this, fucking you until you couldn’t think straight.”

you whined at the stretch when he pushed inside—no teasing, no patience, just the thick slide of his cock sinking into your already dripping cunt. the pain was brief, eclipsed by the overwhelming fullness, the way he groaned like he was losing his mind inside you.

“tight fucking pussy,” he muttered, gripping your hips and thrusting in deeper, sharper. “so good. fuck—i’m not pulling out.”

you whimpered, back arching, pushing into every stroke. “d-don’t. i don’t want you to.”

that broke something in him. his hands grabbed your waist harder, slamming into you now with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin echoing off the walls. he was grunting behind you, dirty praise falling from his lips with every snap of his hips.

“you want me to fill you up, huh? want your stepdaddy’s cum inside you?” he groaned. “fuck, i’m gonna give it to you. you deserve it. all of it.”

you were crying now, overwhelmed with the pace, the filth of his words, the way he was fucking you like he owned you. you didn’t care that it was wrong. you didn’t care about anything except how deep he was, how hot his body felt against yours, how much you wanted to be ruined by him.

“say it,” he growled, pulling your hair to lift your face. “tell me whose pussy this is.”

“y-yours,” you choked out, lips trembling, eyes rolling back as your second orgasm built fast, relentless. “it’s yours, jake—fuck—it’s always been yours.”

and with a loud groan, he slammed in to the hilt and spilled inside you, thick, hot, and endless, painting your insides with everything he’d been holding back. the feeling of it sent you spiraling again, another wave crashing over you, leaving you both breathless, sweaty, and trembling against the counter.

he didn’t pull out right away. he stayed buried inside you, his hand smoothing down your back, mouth pressed to your shoulder as you both caught your breath. the silence returned, but now it was different—sated, sticky, full of everything you couldn’t say out loud.

“we’re fucked, aren’t we?” you whispered, half-laughing, half-crying.

he chuckled against your skin, still inside you. “yeah,” he said. “but you were worth every second of it.”

you didn’t sleep that night—not really. after the first time on the kitchen counter, jake had pulled you into his arms like he couldn’t get enough of you, kissing you slow and filthy before carrying you to the living room couch and fucking you there too, bent over the backrest while his fingers dug into your hips. then the stairs—he stopped halfway to kiss you again, to press you against the railing and take you standing up, slow and deep, like he wanted to feel every inch of you clenching around him.

he didn’t stop until you were crying—raw and overstimulated, his cum dripping from between your thighs, lips bruised from how hard he kissed you when you called him “daddy.” you said it the first time barely above a whisper, unsure if it would cross a line, but the way his breath hitched, the way he looked at you like you were his undoing, told you everything you needed to know.

“say it again,” he had groaned, thrusting harder, his hand gripping your throat as he fucked you on his bed—your mother’s bed. “say it while i’m deep inside this sweet little pussy.”

and you had, over and over, until your voice was hoarse and your body collapsed under the weight of everything you’d held in for so long. you lost count of how many times he came inside you, how many times he kissed your tears away, how many times he praised you for being his good girl, his sweet baby, his filthy little secret.

by morning, you were sore, bruised, and still trembling from the ghost of his touch. you showered in silence, pretending like your body didn’t still ache for him, like you hadn’t screamed his name against a wall just hours ago. when your mom finally returned, cheerful and none the wiser, you met jake’s gaze across the kitchen with heat still burning in your cheeks.

from that day on, everything changed—but nothing did.

he never touched you in front of her. never said a word that might give you away. but the looks were enough. the glances that lingered, the faint smirk he wore when you bit your lip across the room. the way he’d let his fingers brush your waist when he walked behind you, or how his hand would rest a second too long on your shoulder when he passed by. it became a routine—a dangerous, delicious secret that only the two of you shared.

on the nights your mom worked late or left town again, he’d knock softly on your door like he was asking permission, and you’d always let him in. sometimes he’d take his time, laying you down gently, whispering how much he missed being inside you. other nights he’d flip you over and fuck you face-down into the mattress, hand tangled in your hair as you begged for more, crying into the sheets as he told you what a perfect little slut you were for him.

you were submissive in ways you hadn’t even known you could be—so eager to please, so needy when he praised you. you melted every time he called you baby, whimpered every time he held your face and said you were his. and calling him daddy—it wasn’t just part of the game. it was instinct. it felt right. natural. like it had always belonged to him.

but of course, that didn’t go unnoticed.

one evening, your mom smiled casually as she stirred a pot on the stove, glancing over her shoulder when she heard you call out for jake from across the hall.

“you’ve really taken a liking to him,” she laughed. “never thought i’d hear you call anyone daddy again. thought you were too old for that kind of thing.”

you froze, your heart thudding so hard you thought it might explode. jake was behind her, and you felt his eyes on you instantly, hot and sharp like a warning—but his face didn’t change. he was good at this. calm. unreadable. he just sipped from his glass of wine and smiled like the comment didn’t mean anything.

“she’s just affectionate,” he said smoothly, like it was the most innocent thing in the world. “i don’t mind.”

your mom hummed, turning back to the stove with a shrug. “still,” she muttered, half to herself, “doesn’t really suit her anymore. that’s a little girl’s nickname, don’t you think?”

you almost laughed. if only she knew how many times you’d sobbed it into his neck, how many times he’d made you say it while you came all over his cock, how many times he whispered back, “good girl. daddy’s so proud of you.”

but she didn’t know. she’d never know.

the rain had started sometime past midnight, loud against the windows, steady and relentless. the thunder rolled deep, shaking the walls of the house with each distant rumble, and it was that sound—more than anything else—that stirred you from your light sleep. you blinked up at the ceiling, your room dimly lit by the occasional flash of lightning, heart fluttering with something that wasn’t quite fear… more like anticipation.

you bit your lip, glancing toward the hallway.

you shouldn’t.

but you wanted to.

moments before bed, jake had visited you in your room like he sometimes did—just to check in, to say goodnight. he’d kissed your forehead, then your cheek, and then, like always, your lips. it was soft at first, but you’d reached up and pulled him closer, whispering “more,” against his mouth. he pulled back, breath shaky, eyes flicking toward the door as if he expected someone to walk in.

“baby,” he had murmured, brushing your hair back. “your mom’s waiting for me in bed.”

you’d pouted, lips still tingling from his kiss, and tilted your head as you asked, “do you love me more than her?”

he’d hesitated—just for a second—but then he smiled, small and fond, like he was embarrassed by how quickly the truth came out.

“yeah,” he said, voice quiet. “i love you more.”

then he left, walking down the hall to the master bedroom where your mother waited—dressed in a short satin nightgown, her skin dewy from moisturizer and sleepiness. you knew the routine. she was always tired. she always took her pills, the kind that knocked her out cold. jake had told you once, in passing, that nothing ever woke her up when she took them.

so when you heard the storm rolling outside, something bold stirred in your chest. the house was silent except for the rain, the soft ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs, and your own heartbeat in your ears. you slipped out of bed, your cotton shorts riding up your thighs, the hem of your camisole brushing your navel. no bra, no panties. you tiptoed barefoot through the hallway, every creak in the floorboard echoing like a gunshot, but you didn’t stop. your fingers trembled slightly as you reached for the doorknob to their room, slowly turning it and pushing the door open just wide enough to slip inside.

the room was dark, heavy with the scent of lavender and cologne. lightning lit the walls for a split second, revealing the silhouette of your mother fast asleep, turned away from the center of the bed, blanket drawn up loosely around her hips. jake was on the other side, shirtless, lying flat on his back with one arm resting above his head, chest rising and falling slowly with each breath. the space beside him was wide—just enough for you, if you were careful.

you held your breath as you padded closer and crawled in beside him, inching your body down into the mattress as slowly as possible. you curled on your side, your back pressed lightly to his hip, trying not to smile as you settled in. the heat of his body seeped into yours. you could feel him—barely—against the curve of your ass, and the moment you shifted just slightly, you felt the swell of his cock, half-hard, thick and heavy against you even in sleep.

you arched your back a little more, grinding slowly, gently, testing.

a soft inhale escaped him.

then a hand touched your waist.

“baby,” he whispered groggily, voice husky from sleep, “what are you doing here?”

you turned your head just enough to look at him over your shoulder, eyes wide, pouty. “the storm woke me up,” you murmured, still rolling your hips back against him, “and i got scared.”

his breath hitched when your ass pressed more firmly to his length, now fully hard and twitching against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. “fuck,” he mumbled under his breath, one hand sliding down to grip your hip tightly. “you’re gonna drive me insane.”

you reached down without answering and pulled at the waistband of his pants, lifting the fabric just enough to free his cock, already thick and leaking at the tip. you heard the sharp breath he took when your fingers wrapped around him, stroking slowly. he pushed his hips forward into your hand, biting down a groan.

then, still without a word, he hooked a finger into the waistband of your pink shorts and dragged them down over your ass. the air was cool against your bare skin, and you felt his hand pause when he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

“naughty little thing,” he whispered, dragging two fingers along your slit, feeling how wet you were. “you planned this.”

you didn’t deny it. you just moaned quietly when he rubbed circles against your clit, pressing his forehead to your shoulder, his other hand reaching to squeeze your breast through your thin top.

he didn’t waste time. he positioned himself behind you, pulling your leg back over his thigh, and eased his cock into you slowly, the tip splitting you open as you tried to keep your moans muffled. he hissed through his teeth as he bottomed out, his fingers digging into your hips.

“so fucking tight,” he whispered, moving in slow, deep strokes. “you feel too good, baby.”

you rocked back into him, eyes fluttering shut, the sheets rustling beneath you as your bodies moved together. his hand came up to your mouth, covering your lips as he fucked you from behind, spooned up against you, every thrust making your ass slap against his hips.

“quiet,” he breathed, “she’s right there.”

your eyes opened in the dark, and you saw her—still asleep, facing away, barely moving. the thrill of it made your pussy clamp down tighter, made jake curse softly and fuck you harder.

he turned you over slowly, gently, until you were on your back and he was above you, lifting your shirt to expose your chest. he leaned down to suck your nipple into his mouth, his cock never leaving you, just grinding deeper as he kissed down your stomach, whispering filthy things about how good you felt, how beautiful you looked stretched out for him in their bed.

“i love you,” he muttered into your skin, voice cracked and breathless. “you’re mine.”

you wrapped your legs around him, pulled him in closer, and whispered, “fuck me, daddy. please. make me yours.”

that broke him. his hips snapped harder, deeper, hands grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head as he pounded into you in the missionary position, the bed creaking ever so slightly. he fucked you like he owned you, kissing you hard, letting you moan into his mouth when you came all over him again.

afterward, he didn’t stop—he flipped you onto your knees and took you from behind, gripping your hair, his balls slapping your soaked pussy with each brutal thrust. you were delirious, dripping, sobbing into the pillows while your mom snored on just feet away. it wasn’t enough for him—he pulled out and turned you over again, sitting back on his knees and tapping his cock against your lips.

“suck it, baby,” he whispered, “you can do it.”

you obeyed, eyes glassy, tongue out, taking him into your mouth until your jaw ached and your throat was raw. he watched you the whole time, stroking your cheek, whispering that you were his good girl, his sweet baby, his favorite thing in the world.

you climbed on top of him after that, straddling his hips, riding him slowly, hands on his chest, tits bouncing with each movement. his hands slid up your thighs, gripping your ass, his cock deep inside you as you rocked back and forth, whispering his name over and over like a prayer.

you lost track of the thunder outside, of the minutes slipping past, of everything except the way jake’s cock kept hitting that perfect spot inside you—like he knew your body better than anyone ever could.

his hands gripped your thighs tight, eyes locked on your face as he fucked you harder now, his body pressing yours deeper into the bed. the headboard tapped lightly against the wall, not loud enough to wake her, but enough to make your heart race with the risk.

you opened your mouth to moan, but his palm flew to your lips, muffling the cry that broke out when he bottomed out again, his cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your throat.

“shhh, baby,” he whispered, sweat dripping down his neck, chest heaving, “you wanna wake her up?”

you shook your head, pupils blown wide, legs trembling.

“then be good,” he murmured, lowering himself until his forehead pressed to yours, his cock still slamming into you slow and thick and hard. “be a good girl and take it.”

you nodded, tears in your eyes from how much you needed it. needed him.

“you feel how this pussy sucks me in?” he breathed, lifting one of your legs higher, fucking you deeper. “so fucking tight. so warm. it’s perfect, baby. this is mine.”

your voice cracked under his palm as you whimpered, grinding up into him. and then you whispered it—low, dangerous, full of wicked curiosity.

“does it feel better than hers?”

he paused.

then he looked you dead in the eyes, smirked, and answered without hesitation.

“yours is better,” he growled, grabbing your jaw, pulling your face close, “your pussy’s the only one i think about. the only one i wanna cum in. you hear me?”

you moaned again, too loud, and his hand came back over your mouth, his thrusts speeding up as you clenched around him from the filthy confession.

then he pulled out suddenly, panting, and sat back against the headboard, his cock glistening, twitching. “ride me,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “come sit on daddy’s cock.”

you didn’t need to be told twice. you climbed over him, straddling his lap slowly, lowering yourself onto his length with a desperate gasp. the stretch made your back arch, his hands coming up to hold your waist as you started to move—slow at first, rolling your hips in circles, grinding your clit against him with every pass.

he leaned in and sucked your nipple into his mouth, then kissed down to your chest, whispering, “that’s it, baby. let daddy see how much you love this dick.”

you bounced harder, faster, the mattress shifting beneath you, and jake grabbed your ass, slapping it once as you rode him.

“look at you,” he moaned, “bouncing like a desperate little slut while your mommy sleeps next to us. if only she knew how many times i’ve filled this pussy.”

you clenched again at that, and your body shook as another orgasm crashed through you, your cunt milking his cock with messy wet sounds as he held you down and let you grind through the aftershocks.

but you still weren’t done.

he pulled out, spun you around, pushed your chest into the mattress and lifted your hips high—doggy. his favorite. he slammed back into you without warning, and you screamed into the pillow, his fingers digging into your hips, his cock slamming into you over and over until you were crying.

“say it,” he groaned behind you, “say you’re daddy’s girl.”

“i’m your girl,” you sobbed into the sheets, barely able to breathe. “i’m your good girl, daddy.”

“that’s fucking right.”

his balls slapped your clit, your pussy gushed around him, and he was grunting, fucking you with long, brutal strokes as his pace grew erratic.

“gonna cum again,” he warned, grabbing your hair, arching your back. “gonna fill you up. again.”

“please,” you begged, “please, daddy, cum in me. fill me up.”

he slammed into you one last time, as deep as he could go, and his whole body tensed as he spilled inside you, hot and thick, his cock twitching as he emptied himself into your already ruined pussy. you could feel it dripping out around his cock before he even pulled out, and when he finally did, it made a wet sound—your cum and his, mixed and leaking down your thighs.

he collapsed beside you, panting, pulling you into his arms, your bodies completely naked, sticky, tangled in sweat and sin and everything you weren’t supposed to be.

you curled into his chest, heart still pounding, and whispered, barely audible—

“i love you, daddy.”

he kissed your temple, still inside the bed where his wife slept a foot away, and whispered it back without hesitation.

“i love you too, baby. more than anything.”

[writing-munchies]

NSFW HC's— Mateo, Hector, Eddie & Volt x GN!Reader (MDNI)

A/N: Wrote these as more of a practice to get back into the swing of writing after Uni fucked me in the ass with no prep. Thank you for reading<3 not proofread sorry for any mistakes as English isn't my first language :-] if you have a request for a specific character id love to see them!

WC: 2.1K

Mateo

With Mateo, you’re going to find a lover that is gentle and accommodating, firm on boundaries but not harshly so! He genuinely loves you with his entire being, that's why he’s willing to have these could be hard conversations.

Definitely a pleasure top, loves taking orders, loves seeing how he makes you feel good. Loves asking how you feel when his hands are exploring your body, “How’d that feel?”, “Does that feel good? Yeah?”, asks the same questions when he’s deep inside you, he doesn’t want to hurt you and… he gets carried away when he’s balls deep inside his favorite human, so he makes sure to prioritize your comfort and pleasure above his.

Dare I say, foreplay is his favorite part. Loves pawing at your clothes, his fingers playing with your already sensitive sex as your pajamas are ruined because of him. 

No matter how embarrassing it sounds, one of the quickest ways to get him horny is to sleep with him—your blanket—between your legs, especially if you’ve just masturbated before going to bed.

Mateo loves having his mouth on you in general. Sucks on your nipples, licks the cum spilled on your stomach, licks your neck after giving you a hickey, licks between your pecs/breasts, man just loves the taste of you. 

If you let him cum inside you—the affirmation alone makes his cock throb inside you by the way—he’ll let out a whine so pathetically needy, thanking you over and over again as he slams his hips down, capturing your lips in a kiss before thrusting as deep as he can. Biting down on your lip in pure ecstasy. Tears forming in those beautiful eyes of his as you feel him filling you up.

As mentioned above, very vocal and whiny when he gets needy. When you’re in the middle or even just foreplay, his voice is low and breathy, as he gets closer to the edge, his thrusts getting sloppy and your name starts to spill out of his lips non-stop; that’s when he gets whiny.

Receiving blowjobs are kind of a guilty pleasure for him. You did so much for him after all, asking you to suck him off without gaining pleasure in equal measure in return— hr can’t even get himself to ask. Even though he has had at least 3 wet dreams about it, the way your mouth envelops all of him, you wouldn’t let go until he came down your throat- fuck he knows you wouldn’t. He wants that shit carnally, if you tell him you want to make him cum with your mouth, he almost cries and cums on the spot.

Please, pretty please force him to cum down your throat, he might actually pass out, but it would be the best way to go in his mind. Don’t let go of his thighs and bury your head even deeper. Take his dick so deep that you feel his tip press on the back of your throat. The sensation alone will have him cry out your name and cum so fast and- so much.

After foreplay, aftercare is his favorite time. Loves spoiling you, feeling your warmth as you wrap him around you. Kisses you everywhere, makes sure to clean you up before himself, always puts you above himself. Cuddles you to sleep, a temple kiss as you fall asleep is a Mateo guarantee every time.

Hector

Honestly, he’ll be whatever the hell you want him to be, but he’s a pleasure top at heart. He loves being dominated, but also wants to be the one that gives you the pleasure. He wants to be the reason you can’t form coherent sentences as he’s fucking you, just like you asked him to.

He really can’t help himself sometimes, he just has to tease you. Like the hand on your nape being way colder than you expected as the hand he’s using to tease your sex being way hotter than expected— it creates a heavenly overstimulating experience that has you squirming in his hold, much to his delight.

One of his biggest kinks is being tied up, completely helpless. You could just leave him there while you watch and tease the tip of his dick with your index finger, just pressing on his slit a little bit to tease him about how much pre is coming out, and he just cums on the spot. Something about feeling like he’s your present, especially if you use pretty ropes— that’ll make him feel so pretty, actually!

Continuing on with the tied up part, he loves it he really does it’s just sometimes, not being able to touch you as you’re going down on him feels like pure torture. Of course, you’re going to make him cum just from getting his dick sucked, and his hole fingered as he begs and cries about wanting to touch you so badly, his fingers are itching, he’s crying and begging but know that the longer you deny him what he wants the more you’ll absolutely ruin him when you give him what he wants.

Ride him. That’s the fastest way to make him cum. You’re in control, on top of him and using his dick for your own pleasure? Oh yeah, he has already made peace with the fact that he’s going to cum as soon as his tip even touches your entrance. He’s just so, so sensitive to your every touch. He eats up every bit of sensation you make him feel. Though, he is very durable. He can go for a few rounds   even if he’s crying because of the overstimulation, it doesn’t matter as long as you’re getting use out of him. He was made to please you, after all. 

By any chance you give him free rein and let him fuck you however he wants to, prepare for it to get messy. His dick will slip out of you multiple times, pre and cum will be all over your inner thighs, but somehow it’ll be the best fuck you’ll ever have because it is driven by desperation, by love and fully shameless attraction towards your whole being outside and inside. Will cry if he cums inside of you prematurely, apologizing again and again whether you two used condoms or not. 

His body temperature will be a mess as well. When he’s so close to the edge, his entire body will burn up and up and as soon as he orgasms he will be ice-cold, it’ll take a while for him to adjust back to a comfortable degree. His fingers will be so cold from sheer excitement and nervousness bubbling inside of him while in foreplay, then it’s just going to get hotter and hotter until you’re both sweating buckets. He will do his best to adjust the temperature of his dick, finger, and mouth as to give you the full experience of getting it on with your…well, HVAC.

Would do his best to give you after care, but the poor thing’s nerves are fried beyond belief, so it’s up to you most of the time. Please never put off physical contact for long after sex, he’ll get so insecure about if he did well or if you’re disappointed or if he upset you. Loves kisses on his temple and tips of his fingers the most. So sweet to you after it, even more so, basically sings your praises with every breath he takes just to make you understand how much he loves you and how much of a treasure your body is to him as much as you yourself are.

My baby…

Eddie & Volt

Good God, these two. Prepare to be double-teamed or participate in double-teaming one of them because it is a guarantee that it’s going to happen.

Classic position in any throuple having sex, you’ll suck Eddie off as Volt is fucking into you from behind. They are both gentle but firm in their movements. Gentle to make sure they don’t hurt you or make you uncomfortable, firm in their movements as they do love using their most likely more superior physical strength on you. Such as, Volt practically gripping your hips with a force tethering on the edge of bruising as he thrusts into you with a good amount of force. Eddie will cup your chin in his palm as he forces you to look up at him as you take his dick all the way when Volt thrusts particularly slow and deep, leading to a cacophony of sounds of their moans and grunts and wet noises you can’t really control when your mouth is stuffed.

This position could also be varied in this way; if you have a dick or are willing to use a strap, Eddie will fuck into you as you’re deep inside Volt. Eddie loves having his hand on your throat as an anchor as he’s essentially fucking your brains out from behind as Volt has his arms wrapped around you, you’re using his thighs as an anchor with a death grip on them as the sensation of being full and being inside Volt along with both of their moans, whines, and praises does leave you a dumb little thing. “Close already, live wire?” as Eddie’s breathy voice is brushing against your ear, Volt is digging his nails on your back at the same time, “Look how needy he is already, don’t want to disappoint him do you?” when you shake your head, you hear him let out a deep chuckle, “Then don’t stop moving those hips, he needs to cum before you, don’t forget,” releasing your neck from his hold as Volt hugs you even tighter. With a loud moan as you feel Eddie hit that sweet spot, you let your hips move on their own with desperation, earning a moan of your name from both of them. 

You’re getting on that damn counter if you ever, and I mean ever, tease them on the opening hours. Your punishment? Spreading your legs for them on the counter while Volt uses his mouth on your sex in a way that’s barely stimulating but so tantalizing that you can’t help but thrust your hips up for more friction as Eddie’s fingers once again knowingly brush over that damn sweet spot. They’re doing it on purpose, giving you the sensation of pleasure but keeping the actual pleasure itself so, so close yet so far away to melt you into a begging, desperate mess.

This specific scenario will never leave my mind: You're on Eddie’s lap, your thighs are right on top of his, him opening his legs and yours in the process as he watches Volt fuck into you as he forces you to open your legs up when they close on instinct.

Volt’s guilty—but not really— pleasure is eating you out after Eddie just came inside of you:

If you’re AFAB he just loves the taste of both you and Eddie as he rubs your clit and fingers you with a brutally fast pace on your already overstimulated sex to make you cum on his tongue one more time, moaning into your cunt when you do so.

 For AMAB, he loves eating you out yes but his favorite thing to do is lick all that pre off of your tip, he loves the clean you up after a good fuck with Eddie, his tongue never leaving your tip as he sucks on the already sensitive tip and moans as your cum fills his mouth and the feel of your tip throbbing on his tongue is just heavenly.

You and Volt love teaming up on Eddie, it’s just so damn good. Volt takes Eddie’s dick out of his pants, gives his tip a kitten lick and helps you take all of it into your mouth. Stroking him as you suck Eddie off, Volt’s other hand cupping Eddie’s balls as he tells you to give them attention too. Teases Eddie for the very whiny noises that escape him, especially as he cums down your throat, he lets out such a pretty moan when he does so. Oh, Volt will never let him forget that, endless teasing material.

I wanted to write about how they’d try to fuck you with both of their dick’s in only one of your hole, but I don’t have much energy, so I’m just planting that idea in your lovely heads.

Aftercare will be 10/10 every time. Some cool water, both of them cleaning you up as you just lay there and get treated like royalty. Eddie will even have your favorite fruits stocked in their fridge just to give you some with a deep blush on his cheeks as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out 5 minutes ago. Volt is amazing at making you feel at ease, his voice is just so damn soothing, and he knows where to touch as he’s massaging you. Three-way cuddle, of course you’re in the middle.

[silasours]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀COCKWARMING ! —

#pairing : lucifer, alastor, vox, valentino, x gn reader. #cw : 18+ content, mdni. unprotected sex. edging. office sex. public sex. sub/power sub reader. no mentions of specific anatomy. vox is in an online meeting for work. touch starved lucifer. val blowing his smoke on you for fun. non proofread because it's six in the fuckin morning and I have not slept a wink. #summary : in which they keep themselves buried deep inside of you while being busied by other stuff. #note : save me, I've been writing nothing but hazbin smut lately. i should really start working on other shows.. alastor's a bit shorter than the others, can't really think of a solid idea for him and I wanted to get this out as soon as possible

ʚ LUCIFER .

lucifer whines when you force him to focus on his unfinished work once again. he has been going back and forth from attempting to thrust into you, but you always found a way to press him down in his place firmly. he had some unfinished work that he left sitting in his office for almost a week now, and it irritated you. that's when you offered to cockwarm him while he worked, get him to finally get his hands on those unfinished works.

being absolutely touch starved, lucifer agreed without hesitation unaware of how miserable and impatient this will make him. his hand remain on his working desk, occasionally scribbling some words and a signature on the paper filled with printed words. he does his best to resist the urge to finally thrust into you, worried that you'd leave him unsatisfied if he doesn't do as he's told.

but there's a limit to how much he can contain himself, especially when he has you sitting on his lap with his cock stuffing you to the brim, when you'd tease him so often by clenching around him or moving your hips ever so slightly. lucifer whines every time, the hand that's placed on your hip squeezing on your flesh desperately.

"can i please.. just finish this up later?" his voice muffled from nuzzling his face into your shoulder, eyes closed shut to focus on the warmth engulfing his throbbing member. you let out a small chuckle, baring your teeth into his neck to draw out those pretty moans of his; his cock leaks pathetically inside of you.

"no can do, luci. you're not going to get whatever you want until you finish up." you pull away and tilt your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto his jaw while giving a quick glance at the papers sprawled across his desk. he's only halfway done with them. "you're doing pretty well, no? you're halfway done."

lucifer groans, annoyed as he picks up the pen from the desk again while reading through the papers. this time, you decide to tease him a little more instead of staying still. you connect your lips with his exposed neck, sucking on the sensitive skin as your hips slowly grind against his. you hear his breath hitch, his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping you.

your name spills out from his lips breathlessly, following with a whimper that you love so much. you carry on with your actions, dark marks gradually bloom all over his skin like breathtaking flowers. lucifer shifts to lay his forehead on your shoulder, shuddering from pleasure; you tug on his soft hair, firm enough to lift his head up from your shoulder.

"stay focused, luci. remember what's waiting for you to finish your work."

ʚ ALASTOR .

"oh, what a twist!" alastor exclaims with his eyes glued to the book he's reading, chuckling like you're not clenching down on his cock out of desperation. your eyes are teary as you turn to peek at the page he's on, frustration brewing in your chest. upon noticing your reaction, alastor laughs while moving his hand to cup your face, leaning in with a grin. "don't you agree, my dear?"

you groan, parting your lips further enough to drop his thumb into your mouth, biting down on it. alastor mutters a small "fiesty" before buckling up his hips, watching your eyes widen from the sudden pleasure that shoots up your veins. his arm tightens around your waist to stop you from squirming around excessively.

"put.. the fuckin' book down, a-alastor.." your nails dig into his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt, the back of your other hand hovering over your mouth with a frown on your face. alastor smiles in response, holding the book between the both of you now that there's a gap.

"why, it has only gotten interesting! patience is key, darling."

"it has been almost a whole fucking hour, alast-" your words get cut off by yet another harsh thrust of his hips, an uncontrollable moan slipping off your tongue. a low, barely audible grunt could be heard coming from alastor because of how you're squeezing around him like your life depends on it.

slowly, he places the book down, pushing two digits into your mouth as his sharp nails graze past your gums. your tongue swirls around them, gaze fixated on his that seems to be mocking your desperation. you grind your hips, wanting to feel more of that sensitive spot in you being stimulated by his tip brushing against it. alastor grunts every time you tighten around him, the feeling making his skin jump and his eyes close shut from the pleasure he receives.

you reach for the book to toss it aside, not allowing him any chance to get it back and return to what he was previously putting you through. he laughs at the action before getting cut off by yet another groan, a frown slowly finds its way to spread across his face despite the grin that remains on his lips.

"the book shall wait after all."

ʚ VOX .

the sound of vox's workers and colleagues echoes through his workplace, the source of it coming from the laptop that sits in front of him. he's holding an urgent meeting with them to discuss some things about work, yet you're here obediently sitting on him, cockwarming him. your arms hug his neck tightly, hands grabbing tightly onto his shirt while listening to him speak to the people in call.

you bite down every moan that builds in your throat, not allowing any sound to be heard by anyone but your partner. times when vox isn't discussing important matters, he leans into your ear to whisper praises, thrusting into you, and stops so suddenly when you're close to release.

he grins as you whine at the sudden loss of friction, skin flushed while feeling him draw lazy circles on your hips with his thumbs. he starts speaking again just when you're about to voice your frustration, drawing out a grumble from you. you stay there unattended, glancing at the part where the two of you connect; you're craving release, and you're done waiting.

with a steady pace, you move your own hips while holding onto his shoulders for support. vox's head snaps toward your direction, teeth gritting as he bites back the groans that threaten to leave his lips. he tries to hold you down, but his body betrays him and allows you to carry on with your movements. his head tilts back to lean against the headrest of his chair, the words that his workers speak gradually shifting to a blur in his mind.

"fuck, w-wait," his breath grows heavy, barely managing to keep his eyes open as you fuck yourself on his cock. you're supposed to be cockwarming him, not riding him. he has allowed you to the point of no return, how is he going to carry on with the meeting now? you grab him and connect your lips with his, drinking in his groans like how he does to your moans.

ignoring the calls of his name from the meeting, he pulls you closer by the waist as you grind yourself on him. it wasn't until he started getting annoyed by the meeting that he broke away from the kiss, strings of saliva still connecting your lips while his hand reached out to shut the laptop down. the room falls to a sudden silence, the only sounds that remain are your heavy breathing.

"you're gonna fuck up my company if this carries on," vox snickers before crashing his lips with yours again, hands holding onto your hips to thrust into you without anything holding him back this time.

ʚ VALENTINO .

you still can't process the fact that you're in valentino's studio with his cock buried deep inside of you while people walked around to work on set. valentino takes puffs from the cigarette he holds between his fingers, often ordering and even yelling at people as they rush to obey his commands.

nobody pays any mind to the both of you; in fact, they see it as something normal. after all, they're working for a porn producer, what is there not to be normal? you keep your face stuffed in the fluff of his coat, hands gripping tightly onto his outfit while still trying to adjust to how good he stretches you apart. everyone has just started working, and the set is still being prepared for a new film.

"you're tighter than usual my love, are you that excited to be around everyone?" he teases with a mocking tone, puffing out a wisp of pink smoke onto your flushed face. you lightly shake your head with a whine, the smoke that you inhale causing your vision to spin immediately. humming, valentino lifts your body up with the help of his lower pair of arms before roughly slamming you back down onto his cock. "I doubt that. you've always loved being fucking in public, no? look at you,"

you gasp, body tensing as a moan escapes your throat. you immediately bite down on your lower lip, eyes screwing shut while simultaneously having your body trembling under his hold. you don't want to draw too much attention to yourself, yet the idea alone excites you in an odd way that you never knew it would. noting your reaction, valentino continues repeating the action before stopping promptly, feeding himself with your choked back moans.

"keep looking pretty like that while i work, i'll have a reward waiting for you." you mewl at his words, giving him a weak nod while tugging onto his shirt. he takes another long drag from his cigarette before letting his gaze fall onto the prepared set displayed in front of him, eyes scanning for the stars of the show in the room.

he would moan softly into your ear whenever you clenched around him, teasing you with his mere voice and carrying on with his work. you don't complain, though, considering how you'll be fucked into a moaning mess once he's done with work.

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

[womshame]

Yandere Teachers x Mother Reader

Summary: All she wanted was a simple parent-teacher meeting. A few minutes to talk about her son’s progress, nothing more. But when three different teachers — each charming, each dangerous in their own way — set their sights on her, Y/N’s world spirals into a nightmare disguised as devotion.

Word Count: 11,147

Trigger Warnings: yandere behavior (obsessive love, emotional manipulation), psychological manipulation, coercive control, stalking, non-consensual surveillance, forced/coerced captivity, implied drugging, dubious consent, threats of violence, unhealthy power dynamics, grooming undertones involving parental figures, child emotional manipulation (non-explicit), ambiguous/psychologically complex ending.

The hallway smelled like pencil shavings and bleach.

Y/N adjusted the strap of her bag and checked her phone for the third time. Eli’s teacher conference was scheduled for 6:00 PM sharp, but she’d arrived ten minutes early, nervous and trying not to show it. The fluorescent lights overhead hummed softly, casting a dull glow across the linoleum floor.

The door to Room 107 was open.

She approached with a small knock on the frame.

“Ms. L/N?” A man stood up from behind a desk. His voice was warm, polished. “I’m Mr. Callahan. Please, come in.”

He was tall, maybe in his late thirties, with a clean-cut jawline and glasses perched on a straight nose. A wedding band glinted on his left hand as he extended it.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking it briefly. His grip was firm, a little too lingering.

“I’m Eli’s homeroom teacher—and his literature instructor. Mr. Rivera and Mr. Brooks will join us shortly. We like to hold joint meetings when possible, helps with consistency.”

She nodded politely, taking a seat in the chair across from his. The classroom was neat, the kind that showed effort: posters about classic novels lined the walls, and a stack of well-loved paperbacks rested on a side shelf.

“I have to say,” he began, folding his hands, “your son is bright. Restless, perhaps, but bright. He has an advanced vocabulary for his age, and a very curious mind.”

“That’s… good to hear. I was worried. He hasn’t been himself lately.”

Mr. Callahan leaned forward, elbows on the desk, gaze gentle and focused. “Sometimes, intelligent children grow frustrated with structure. Especially if they feel misunderstood.”

Before she could answer, the door opened again.

“Hey,” said a second voice—louder, younger. A man with ink-stained hands and paint smudges on his shirt entered with a crooked smile. “Ms. L/N, right? I’m Mr. Rivera. Art.”

His handshake was quick, his fingers calloused. He dragged a chair from one of the student desks and sat close—closer than necessary.

Then came the third: Mr. Brooks, taller than both, broad-shouldered, dressed in a sleek tracksuit that made him look more like a personal trainer than a school employee. He gave a casual nod.

“Evening. Eli’s got good stamina. Bit headstrong, but coachable.”

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, feeling the three men’s attention weigh down on her. Each seemed friendly, professional… but something about the room was off. Maybe it was the way all three had made a point to look her in the eyes. Maybe it was the feeling of being watched, closely, like prey mistaken for a puzzle.

Callahan cleared his throat. “We’ve noticed some behavioral patterns. Not aggressive, but… withdrawn. Occasionally defiant. Have there been any changes at home?”

“Nothing drastic,” she replied, hesitating. “We moved apartments last month. I’ve been working longer hours.”

“That could do it,” Rivera murmured. “Kids are sensitive. He draws a lot of houses, you know. Empty ones.”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

“I mean—it’s sweet. He seems attached to the idea of home. And people in it.” He smiled, then added, “You show up a lot in his sketches. It’s nice. You’re very… detailed.”

Mr. Brooks crossed his arms. “He’s protective of you. I asked him once who’d win in a race—him or you—and he said, ‘My mom, ‘cause she runs everything.’”

Y/N let out a short laugh, unsure of how to respond.

Callahan used the moment to shift the conversation. “We’d like to be more involved. Give Eli support beyond just the classroom. He’s got potential, and with the right guidance…”

“Is that something you’re comfortable with?” Rivera asked. “More frequent updates, maybe. Home activities?”

“I—sure,” she said, too quickly.

“Great,” Callahan smiled. “I’ll make a note to reach out next week.”

They spoke for another fifteen minutes, but the conversation had subtly shifted. It wasn’t just about Eli anymore. The questions were polite, but personal. Did she have help at home? Was there someone else involved in Eli’s life? Did she have time for herself?

As she left the room, three pairs of eyes followed her.

Outside, the night air was cooler. She took a deep breath and told herself not to overthink it. They were just teachers. Caring professionals. Nothing more.

But in Room 107, long after she was gone, Mr. Callahan tapped a pen rhythmically on the desk.

“She’s… attentive,” Rivera said softly, almost dreamlike.

“Smart,” Brooks added. “And tough. I like that.”

Mr. Callahan said nothing, just looked down at the page in Eli’s student file—where Y/N’s contact information was written in black ink.

He traced the number with the tip of his finger.

Eli came home with a gift.

A small, carefully wrapped box, tied with a blue ribbon. He plopped it on the kitchen table and shrugged when Y/N looked at him with a raised brow.

“Mr. Rivera said it was from me,” he mumbled, grabbing an apple from the counter.

“From you?”

“Yeah. I dunno. He said I picked it out.”

Y/N slowly untied the ribbon and peeled back the paper. Inside was a delicate charm bracelet—silver, minimal, with a tiny engraved heart. It was beautiful. Too beautiful to have come from a third-grade art project.

“Did you… make this for me?” she asked carefully.

Eli frowned. “No. I didn’t know it was for you ‘til today.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She smiled faintly, thanked her son, and tucked the bracelet back in the box. That night, while Eli slept, she sat on the couch and stared at it for a long time. It was flattering. And unsettling.

The next day, Mr. Brooks caught her after drop-off.

He was waiting just outside the school gate, hands in his jacket pockets. “Hey, Ms. L/N,” he said casually. “You got a minute?”

“Uh… sure.”

“There’s a field event next weekend. Technically it’s optional, but I think Eli would really benefit from it. Bonding, teamwork, fresh air.”

“That sounds good,” she said, then paused. “Should I pack something for him?”

“Well, actually, it’s a family-style thing. Parents are encouraged to join.” His smile sharpened. “Thought you might like the chance to see him in action.”

“Right.” She hesitated. “I’ll check my schedule.”

“You do that.” He nodded once, then added as she turned to leave, “You know… You’re doing a hell of a job with him. That boy idolizes you.”

Y/N nodded with a faint, polite smile. She didn’t notice how long he kept watching her walk away.

That afternoon, a text pinged on her phone. Unknown number.

Hi, Ms. L/N. This is Mr. Callahan. Hope it’s okay I reached out. Wanted to follow up on our chat. Eli seemed happier today—might be that lovely influence of yours. Let me know if you’d like to schedule a home visit.

Her stomach twisted.

He hadn’t said anything about messaging her directly. And a home visit?

She typed a brief reply:

Hi. Thanks for the update. No home visit needed, but I appreciate the support.

He responded within seconds:

Of course. Just want what’s best for him. And you, too.

The next few days, things started to shift.

Mr. Rivera began sending home odd “projects” for Eli—little collages made from old photos that Y/N didn’t remember giving him, or drawings that mirrored things in their apartment. A ceramic mug with her initials carved into the side.

Mr. Brooks showed up at the grocery store, casually leaning on his cart like it was coincidence. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, even though the school was on the other side of town.

Mr. Callahan started emailing after school hours, offering book recommendations. Some of them were surprisingly romantic in theme.

Each interaction was friendly. Innocuous. And yet, she couldn’t shake the growing unease curling under her ribs. Y/N wasn’t new to attention—she was used to the occasional awkward parent interaction, the sidelong glances. But this? This was different.

They weren’t just interested in Eli. They were circling her.

At pick-up one afternoon, Eli ran out with a huge grin.

“Mr. Rivera says you should come see our art wall!”

“Maybe next week, sweetie.”

“He put your picture on it.”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

“Yeah! The one he drew. He says you’re his muse.”

The word hit her like cold water.

She walked Eli to the car, quiet the entire drive. That night, she looked up each of their school bios online. All three had spotless records. Callahan had been teaching for over ten years, his LinkedIn profile filled with glowing endorsements. Rivera had an art show once, mostly abstract portraits. Brooks was a former semi-pro athlete turned educator. Married. Single. Single.

Harmless, on paper.

And yet…

At bedtime, Eli asked, “Mom?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Why do my teachers ask so many questions about you?”

Y/N paused. “What kind of questions?”

“Like… what do you do when you’re not working, or if you like flowers, or if you ever get lonely.” He looked up at her. “Is it bad if I answer?”

“No,” she said softly, brushing his hair back. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

But deep down, she knew this wasn’t normal.

And if it was attention—why did it feel like a trap?

The café was her sanctuary.

A little spot tucked between a florist and a laundromat, ten blocks away from her apartment—far enough from the school that she could sip her coffee in peace, answer emails, and feel like more than just someone’s mother.

Y/N slid into her usual corner booth, ordered a cappuccino, and pulled out her phone. For a moment, the world was quiet.

Then she heard the door chime.

“Wow. Small world.”

She looked up slowly.

Mr. Brooks stood in the entrance, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, wearing a hoodie and joggers. He smiled like this was completely natural—like they always ran into each other on Saturdays.

Her heart sank.

“I didn’t know you lived around here,” he said, stepping into her space before she could answer. “Mind if I sit?”

She hesitated. “I was just about to—”

“Just for a minute,” he insisted, already pulling out the chair.

She smiled tightly, hoping he couldn’t see how fast her pulse was ticking under her skin.

“Long week?” he asked, glancing at the book on her table—Wuthering Heights.

She nodded, sipping her coffee to avoid answering.

“I read that in college,” he said. “Dark, right? All-consuming kind of love. Unhealthy as hell. Still… kind of beautiful.”

He said it like a confession.

Y/N looked at him closely. There was something behind his smile—something intense. He wasn’t just making small talk. He was watching her.

“You really didn’t know I lived near here?” she asked finally.

“No idea,” he said, too quickly. “Total coincidence.”

But when he left—after buying her a second cappuccino she didn’t want—she saw him cross the street and head not toward the subway, but toward the parking lot behind the building. No gym bag. No gym.

That night, she didn’t sleep well.

At school the following Monday, she tried to brush past it. Told herself to focus on Eli, on the week ahead. But it got harder.

Mr. Rivera cornered her in the hallway after drop-off.

“I have something to show you,” he said, leading her to the art room.

She hesitated at the door. “I’m really not—”

“It’ll just take a second.”

Inside, the walls were filled with colorful drawings, sculptures, mosaics. He walked her to the far end, where a new display had been pinned.

Her.

It was her.

Charcoal sketches of her face—three, maybe four—each more detailed than the last. Her eyes, her hands, the curve of her smile. All drawn from memory.

“I didn’t mean for this to be weird,” he said, voice low, like they were sharing a secret. “You just… have that kind of presence. The kind that sticks.”

“Mr. Rivera—”

“Call me Adrian.”

She stepped back.

“I appreciate the… art,” she said, carefully, “but I don’t think this is appropriate.”

His smile didn’t falter. “You inspired me. That’s not something I get often. You should be flattered.”

“I’m not,” she said, voice firm now.

For a second, something flickered in his expression—something sharp, like rejection was unfamiliar to him. But then he smiled again, softer.

“I’ll take them down. Of course. Just… don’t tell anyone, okay?”

She didn’t respond. She just walked away.

At pickup that day, Mr. Callahan was waiting beside her car.

He looked more formal than usual—shirt tucked neatly, tie tight, that same composed, unreadable smile.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” he said, stepping closer as Eli ran toward them from the building. “I wanted to talk. Just for a second.”

Y/N unlocked the car and motioned for Eli to climb in. “I’m in a hurry.”

“It’s about Eli,” he said. “He’s been mentioning nightmares. About losing you. Do you know anything about that?”

Her heart clenched.

“He’s been clingier,” she admitted. “I thought it was just stress.”

“I think he’s afraid,” Callahan said softly. “Afraid something might happen to you. That you might leave him.”

She looked up sharply. “Why would he think that?”

Mr. Callahan held her gaze. “Children feel what we hide. If you’re overwhelmed, if you’re struggling—even if you don’t say it—he knows.”

Y/N swallowed. “I’m doing my best.”

“I know you are.” His voice dropped to something intimate. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

There was a long silence between them.

“I appreciate your concern,” she said finally. “But I’d prefer to keep things professional.”

For a brief moment, she saw the crack in his expression. A twitch in the jaw. But it was gone in an instant.

“Of course,” he said smoothly. “Just let me know if that changes.”

He turned and walked back toward the school, his posture calm, controlled—but she knew something had shifted.

All three of them—Brooks, Rivera, Callahan—they weren’t just stepping over lines.

They were drawing new ones around her.

Y/N kept her door locked at night.

It wasn’t something she used to think about—living in a safe neighborhood, third floor walk-up, decent building—but lately, it felt necessary. She’d started checking the windows twice, pulling the curtains tighter, even placing Eli’s shoes closer to her bed.

She hadn’t told anyone about the sketches. Or the café incident. Or the conversation with Callahan.

What would she even say?

“My son’s teachers are obsessed with me”?

Who would believe that?

Still, the pattern was unmistakable now. Each of them—Mr. Rivera with his hungry artist’s stare, Mr. Brooks with his casual stalking, Mr. Callahan with his perfect words and impossible calm—had made it clear in their own way: they weren’t just interested.

They wanted her.

And they weren’t going to stop.

On Wednesday morning, Eli’s backpack was heavier than usual. She opened it before drop-off to make sure he hadn’t stuffed in toys or half the bookshelf again.

There was a small envelope tucked in the front pocket. No name. Just her address handwritten across the front.

Inside: a folded note.

I watch the way you move when you think no one’s watching. You’re always so tired, but still so beautiful. You shouldn’t have to do everything alone. You’re not alone anymore.

No signature.

She didn’t know which of them sent it.

That night, she didn’t sleep at all.

⸻

The school’s field event took place on a gray, windy Saturday.

Y/N had debated not going. Every instinct screamed stay home, but Eli had been so excited—picked out his own sneakers, laid out his water bottle the night before, begged her to run in the parent race. She couldn’t take that away from him.

So she showed up, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, forcing a smile when other parents waved at her. The open fields behind the school had been turned into stations—races, obstacle courses, even a small art tent.

Eli ran ahead.

She scanned the area and immediately spotted them.

Callahan by the sign-in table, clipboard in hand. Rivera near the painting area, smiling at the children. Brooks already in athletic gear, tossing a football with a few dads.

Her stomach turned.

They hadn’t seen her yet. She turned to leave—to pretend she’d forgotten something in the car—but then a familiar voice called out.

“There you are.”

Callahan.

He looked pleased, as if he’d known she would come. His tie was off, sleeves rolled up, and the wind tousled his dark hair just enough to make him look almost younger. Almost innocent.

“You made it,” he said. “Eli’s going to be thrilled.”

She nodded, wary.

“We’ve got a spot for you in the relay if you’re interested,” he added. “It’s low pressure. Just a fun way to bond.”

“I think I’ll just watch.”

“Of course. But if you change your mind…” He handed her a bottle of water with a label she didn’t recognize. “Brought this from home. Thought you might like something better than the vending machine stuff.”

She took it reluctantly, pretending not to notice the way his fingers brushed against hers.

A little later, Mr. Brooks approached. He was sweating, chest rising with exertion, grinning like they were old friends.

“You should’ve seen Eli in the footrace,” he said. “Little guy’s got legs.”

“I’m proud of him.”

“You should be. And hey—” he leaned a little closer “—you looked real tense earlier. You okay?”

“Just tired.”

“You know…” he said slowly, “when I said you didn’t have to do everything alone, I meant that. I’ve seen what it does to people. The pressure. The loneliness. You need someone who gets it. Who gets you.”

She took a step back. “Mr. Brooks—”

“No,” he said, voice gentler now. “Tyler.”

“I think it’s best we keep things professional.”

His jaw flexed. “Right. Professional.”

He walked away without another word—but not without a look. A look that promised this wasn’t over.

She found Eli, pulled him into a hug, and told him it was time to go.

“But we haven’t done the painting!”

“You can do it next time.”

Rivera caught them near the gate. “You’re leaving already?”

“We have things to do.”

“Can I give you something first?”

She didn’t respond fast enough.

He held out a small canvas, freshly painted. It was a house—her apartment, unmistakably detailed, down to the chipped mailbox and ivy on the wall. And in the doorway, a woman holding hands with a man whose face wasn’t filled in.

“I thought maybe Eli could finish it,” Rivera said. “Fill in whoever he thinks belongs there.”

She stared at him. “That’s not appropriate.”

“I think it’s perfect,” he said, quiet and smiling. “Because you deserve someone there.”

She left without another word.

⸻

That night, her apartment felt colder.

She put Eli to bed early and sat on the couch with the water Callahan had given her, still unopened. The canvas Rivera handed her rested on the kitchen counter, face down. And her phone buzzed again—another message from an unknown number.

You’re not being fair. You act like you don’t want this, but I see the way you look at us. At me. Don’t lie to yourself. Let me in.

She turned her phone off.

But even then, in the silence, she couldn’t shake the sense that someone was outside. Watching. Waiting.

She should have changed the locks.

It was the first thing Y/N thought when she came home and saw her bedroom door slightly ajar.

Not wide open. Not obviously tampered with. Just… ajar.

She froze in the hallway. Eli was still at school—she’d stayed late at work and hadn’t picked him up yet—but everything in her body screamed wrong.

She walked slowly through the apartment, barely breathing, calling softly, “Hello?”

No response.

She opened the door fully.

The bed was neatly made. The window slightly open, even though she was sure she’d closed it that morning. And on her pillow—just resting there, like a lover’s offering—was a flower.

A single calla lily.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She hadn’t seen a calla lily in years. They were her mother’s favorite. She’d mentioned it once, offhandedly, at a parent-teacher conference. To Callahan.

Her hands shook as she reached for her phone.

No missed calls. No new messages.

She turned to leave—and stopped.

Her closet was slightly open too.

A cold panic settled over her spine. She grabbed the closest object she could find—a lamp—and yanked the door open.

Empty.

But on the inside panel, written in what looked like red ink, were the words:

You shouldn’t hide the parts of you that are most beautiful.

She picked up Eli ten minutes later, barely able to hold herself together. She didn’t call the cops. Didn’t call anyone. What would she say?

Someone broke in and left her a flower?

Someone knew things they shouldn’t?

She tried to act normal at dinner, but Eli stared at her through his spaghetti like he knew something was off.

“You okay, Mommy?”

“I’m fine, baby.”

He looked down at his plate. “Mr. Callahan said he could help you feel better.”

Her heart stopped.

“When did he say that?”

“At lunch. He sat with me.”

“He what?”

“He said he misses seeing you smile. And he asked if you were still drinking the water he gave you.”

Y/N nearly knocked over her chair as she stood. She opened the fridge and found the bottle still sitting in the door. Untouched. She checked the seal. It was tampered.

She threw it away immediately.

That night, she didn’t sleep. She sat on the floor beside Eli’s bed, one hand resting on his leg, eyes fixed on the door. When dawn finally bled through the windows, she had already made up her mind.

Something had to be done.

⸻

She showed up at the school without an appointment.

Callahan was in the middle of a lesson, but the front office buzzed him out when they saw her face.

He appeared in the hallway a few minutes later, smiling like nothing was wrong.

“Ms. L/N. This is a surprise.”

“Not a good one.”

His brow furrowed. “Is something wrong with Eli?”

“You need to stay away from us.”

The smile didn’t fall—it tightened.

“I don’t think I understand.”

“You’ve crossed a line. You and the others. The notes. The visits. The water bottle. The drawing in my closet.”

A flicker of something crossed his face—an unreadable shift.

“I see,” he said. “So you’ve decided we’re the villains in this story.”

“There’s no we. You’re my son’s teacher. That’s it.”

“You don’t actually believe that.”

He stepped closer.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me. At us. You’re tired. You want help. You want someone who knows you, who sees you. You’ve just convinced yourself it’s not allowed.”

“Back off,” she said, voice shaking.

“You keep pushing us away, but we’re not going anywhere. Not me. Not Tyler. Not Adrian.”

He said their names like a vow.

“You can’t do this,” she whispered.

“I can,” he said. “Because I’m already doing it.”

She walked away before he could say more.

But the next day, Eli didn’t come home with just drawings or comments.

He came home with bruises on his wrist.

“What happened?” she asked, trying not to panic.

“I… I tried to go to the nurse without telling Mr. Rivera. He got mad.”

Y/N’s breath caught.

That night, she sent an official complaint to the school board. Short, direct, formal.

She didn’t name all of them. Just Rivera.

But something in her gut told her it wouldn’t matter.

Not when the people she was reporting were already inside every corner of her life.

The next morning, her car wouldn’t start. The tires were slashed. No cameras caught anything.

Inside the driver’s seat, tucked under the wiper blade, was another flower.

A calla lily.

And this time, a note too.

You belong with us. You’ll see it soon enough.

Y/N stopped answering unknown numbers.

She stopped opening her blinds.

Stopped taking the same route home from school.

None of it helped.

The morning after the tire-slashing, she received a visit—not from one of them, but from the principal. A polite woman with thinning blonde hair and a clipboard full of vague smiles.

“Just a quick check-in,” she’d said. “We received your report. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”

Y/N had tried to explain—about the drawings, the messages, the bruises. But the woman’s smile never wavered.

“Adrian Rivera is a beloved teacher,” she said. “Sometimes, children get bumps and scrapes. That’s no reason to tarnish a man’s reputation.”

“I’m not making this up,” Y/N said, voice fraying.

“No one’s saying you are. But may I be frank?” The principal lowered her voice. “Single parents can be… under a lot of stress. It’s easy to feel isolated. Misread signals. Build stories around people who are just trying to help.”

It felt like a slap.

That night, there was a knock at her door. Late. Too late.

She didn’t answer it.

But she heard the voice.

“Y/N. Open the door.”

Brooks.

“Tyler,” she called through the door, “go home.”

“I just want to talk.”

“You’re scaring me.”

A pause.

Then: “You didn’t used to be afraid of me.”

“I never invited you into my life like this.”

Another pause. Then something sharper in his voice.

“I saw Rivera leaving your building today. What did he say to you?”

Y/N froze.

“I didn’t let him in.”

“But he tried. Right?” Brooks asked, now lower, darker. “He doesn’t deserve you. None of them do. You think Callahan’s your friend? He’s worse. At least I’ve been honest about how I feel.”

“I’m calling the police.”

He didn’t respond at first. Then: “I’d never hurt you. You know that. But they might.”

She didn’t sleep again.

⸻

The next day, she found Rivera already waiting near her parking spot at the school lot.

His arms were crossed. His face was hard.

“I heard about last night,” he said.

She stepped back. “How?”

“Brooks told me.”

“Why are you even talking to each other?”

“Because we all care about you.”

She laughed. A humorless, bitter sound. “That’s not care. It’s obsession.”

Rivera stepped closer.

“You were supposed to come to me first. Not go crying to the board. Not let him near you.”

“You’re delusional.”

“I saw you take the flower. I saw you keep the note. You liked it.”

“No,” she snapped. “I was scared.”

For a second, his eyes flickered with hurt—genuine, almost childlike.

Then they hardened again. “You don’t know what you want.”

“I know what I don’t want. Any of this.”

“You think you can keep pushing us away, but you’re not the one in control anymore.”

She opened her car without another word, heart pounding. He didn’t stop her. But he watched her drive away, and she could feel it—the weight of his gaze, like hands pressed against her skin.

⸻

The next time Callahan spoke to her, it was in public. At pickup, on a crowded sidewalk, with other parents and kids milling around.

“You look tired,” he said smoothly. “I’m worried about you.”

She didn’t respond.

He leaned in, voice quiet.

“I heard Brooks showed up. That he scared you. I told him to be patient, but he doesn’t listen well. Adrian’s even worse. He’s reckless. Impulsive.”

“And you’re what?” she asked. “The good one?”

“I’m the one who’s planning long-term. The one thinking about Eli’s future. Your future.”

“You’re married.”

“That doesn’t change how I feel.”

She stepped away from him, her voice low and shaking. “This has to stop.”

“No,” he said calmly. “This is the beginning. They think they can take you from me. From us. But I’m the only one who’s stable enough to protect you.”

“From them?”

“From everyone.”

⸻

That weekend, she took Eli to her sister’s house in the next town over. Left no note. Turned her phone off. She needed distance. She needed time.

But the first night there, her sister handed her the landline phone with a confused frown. “There’s a man asking for you. Says he’s a teacher?”

Y/N took it with shaking hands.

“Hello?”

“You’re good at hiding,” Rivera’s voice said. “But not that good.”

Click.

The dial tone buzzed in her ear.

She dropped the phone.

⸻

The next morning, there were three letters under her windshield, weighed down by a rock. Different handwriting. Different words.

But the same message.

You belong with me.

Don’t trust him.

I won’t let the others take you.

⸻

Y/N realized then: this wasn’t just obsession.

It was competition.

And she was the prize.

They weren’t going to back off.

Not even from each other.

Y/N had stopped sleeping.

She watched shadows move across the ceiling at night, her son curled against her side, his breath soft and even while hers came in sharp, panicked bursts. She didn’t know how they’d found her sister’s house. She didn’t know what they’d do next.

But she knew this: she couldn’t run forever.

They’d follow.

They’d always follow.

The breaking point came on a Monday.

She returned to her apartment alone—just for a few clothes, just for a few things—and found all the locks changed.

Not broken. Changed.

Her key didn’t fit. The door handle was new.

She stood on the hallway carpet, frozen, her pulse thudding in her throat.

And then it opened.

Callahan.

Sleeves rolled up. Calm as ever. Wedding ring still glinting.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said gently. “It’s not safe.”

Her mouth opened, then closed. “Did you—did you change my locks?”

“You left. I had to make sure you were protected. Adrian and Tyler have been watching the building.”

“You don’t live here.”

He gave her a faint smile. “Don’t I?”

She pushed past him.

Her apartment looked… the same. But it wasn’t.

There were new curtains. A different lamp. Fresh flowers on the table—calla lilies. And a photo of Eli, one she didn’t remember taking, in a silver frame beside the bed.

“I’ve been taking care of things,” he said. “Paying bills. Collecting your mail. It’s been chaotic without you.”

“You broke into my life,” she said, voice rising. “That’s not care, Mr. Callahan. That’s—”

“Stop calling me that.”

He sounded calm. But the edge was there now, thin and sharp as glass.

“You don’t have to pretend this isn’t what you wanted. I’ve always been patient with you, Y/N. I’ve waited. I’ve watched. I know you better than anyone.”

“You don’t know me,” she said.

He stepped closer.

“I know you hate mornings. I know you hum when you’re thinking. I know you cry when Eli’s asleep and you think no one’s listening. I know you’ve been so alone for so long you stopped believing someone would stay.”

Her hands shook.

“And I know,” he whispered, “that you don’t trust them the way you trust me.”

Before she could speak, the knock came.

Loud. Sharp. Repeated.

Callahan’s face tightened.

“Ignore it,” he said.

But she was already moving.

She opened the door—

And came face-to-face with Brooks.

He looked wild. Sweaty. Hair messy. Hands shaking.

“Get away from her,” he growled at Callahan.

Callahan stepped in behind her, hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t the time, Tyler.”

“No,” Brooks said, stepping inside, voice shaking. “You think you’re better than me? Just because you talk nice and wear your little tie? She’s scared of you. She told me.”

“She told me the same about you.”

“Stop it—both of you!” Y/N snapped, voice breaking. “This isn’t love. This is control. You don’t own me. You never did.”

But it was too late.

They weren’t listening anymore.

“You drugged her water,” Brooks hissed. “You crossed a line.”

“You’ve been following her to the store,” Callahan snapped. “You leave notes on her car. You’re worse.”

“You’re married.”

The word hit like a slap.

Callahan flinched—but didn’t back down.

“My wife doesn’t matter. She doesn’t understand me the way Y/N does.”

Brooks lunged.

They struggled—shouting, grunting, crashing into furniture. Y/N backed into the corner, heart pounding so loudly she could barely hear. She had to do something. She reached for her phone—

And then Rivera appeared in the doorway.

Silent. Watching.

He didn’t look surprised.

“I told you,” he said softly. “They can’t be trusted.”

Blood trickled from Callahan’s lip. Brooks was breathing hard, fists clenched.

“You’re all insane,” Y/N said, voice trembling.

Rivera’s eyes locked with hers. “We’re in love.”

He stepped forward—and drew something from his pocket.

Keys.

Her keys.

“Give them to me,” she said.

“You don’t need them anymore,” he replied. “You’re staying with me now. I’ve already cleared out the guest room. I thought you might need space at first.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Brooks snarled.

“She’s not staying here either,” Callahan snapped.

“Stop,” she said, louder. “All of you—stop.”

The room froze.

“I’m done pretending,” she said. “Done waiting for you to change. You’re sick. All of you.”

“You need us,” Rivera said. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

“I needed help,” she said. “And you weaponized it.”

No one moved.

Then, slowly, Callahan looked at the others.

“She’s scared,” he said. “Look at her. We’re not doing this right.”

Rivera frowned. “Don’t get soft now.”

“I’m not,” Callahan said. “But if we don’t work together, we’ll lose her.”

A pause.

Brooks muttered, “You’re suggesting we share?”

“No,” Callahan said. “I’m saying we stop tearing her apart.”

Y/N stared at them, disbelieving.

“You think I’ll just accept this?”

Callahan turned to her. “You don’t have to. Not yet. But we’ll prove ourselves. One by one, or together. You’ll see. We’re not going anywhere.”

The worst part?

She believed him.

She tried to run.

It wasn’t clever or dramatic. No backdoor escapes or fake identities.

Just a car rental, a wad of cash from a stashed emergency envelope, and a trembling hand on the ignition.

Eli slept in the backseat, clutching his favorite stuffed bear. She hadn’t told him anything. How could she?

All she could do was drive.

The highway stretched ahead like hope. And for the first few hours, it felt real. Like breathing for the first time in weeks. Like freedom might still be possible.

Until the flashing lights appeared behind her.

At first, she thought it was just a cop.

Until she saw his face.

Rivera.

She slammed the gas.

He followed.

She tried to lose him off the main roads—swerving through small towns, taking turns without signaling—but he stayed close. Relentless.

She pulled into a gas station, heart slamming, breath jagged, ready to grab Eli and run on foot if she had to—

But Callahan was already there.

Leaning against a rental SUV. Calm. Perfect.

Like he’d known she would come here.

Like they’d planned it.

Brooks stepped out from behind the pumps next.

Blocking her escape.

Panic rose in her throat like bile. She opened the door, grabbed Eli—

“Mommy?” he murmured, still sleepy.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay—”

But then Rivera was in front of her.

And Callahan behind her.

And Brooks flanking the side.

No escape.

“Don’t,” she whispered, backing against the car. “Please. He’s just a kid. Don’t do this to him.”

“We’re not here to hurt him,” Callahan said gently. “We love him too.”

“You don’t know him!”

Brooks stepped closer. “We know you. And he’s yours. That makes him ours, too.”

“I will never let you near him.”

“You already have,” Rivera said. “He likes us. He talks about us. He draws pictures of us at home. He trusts us.”

Y/N swallowed hard. “You manipulated him.”

“We earned him,” Callahan said. “Just like we earned you.”

“Stop saying that!”

Eli began to cry.

“Mommy, I want to go home—”

“You are home,” Callahan said.

Y/N spun to him. “I will never choose any of you.”

Callahan nodded slowly. “That’s alright.”

He looked at the others.

“She doesn’t have to choose.l

[hayatoseyepatch]

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Description: Getting kinky with the windbreaker boys. I have so many thoughts about these men and I just needed to get them out of my system. Characters: Toma Hiragi, Ren Kaji, Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suo, & Yamato Endo. Word Count: 2.2k Tags: fem!reader, brat taming, praise, somnophilia, edging, mommy kink, dacryphilia, consent non consent, choking, degradation, oral (fem!receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk.

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a/n: These are more like thirsts than headcannons but oh well. I might expand on some of these eventually and turn them into full fics if I can sit down and commit to it. It the mental illness, innit? Regardless, I hope you enjoyed these little blurbs! Special shout out to @foxyfiction & @to-eden for helping me with the prompts for some of these, you both are amazing. <3

I also have a masterlist now, if you’re interested that could be found : HERE

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Brat Taming

Hiragi had enough of you today, your skirt pulled up high, a constant switch in your hips while on patrol today with the Tamon team. Constantly teasing him, whether it was pulling him into an alley for an impromptu make out session, bending over in front of him letting him catch a glimpse of your already wet panties, or rubbing against his perpetually hard cock as you “just needed to slip past him real quick”. He was patient, tension building throughout the day coming to a fever pitch when you had both made it back to your shared apartment. He was on you in moments, lifting the back of your skirt to lay a harsh lap to you ass. Grabbing a fistful of your hair as he growls in your ear. “ I want you on that bed and I want you completely bare, do you understand?” He releases you hair, watching as you strip for him, climbing on the bed moments after you do.

Grabbing a hold of your cheeks with a rough hand he forces you to look up at him, eyes glazed over with arousal. Squishing your cheeks he props your mouth open, shoving a long digit past your lips. He grins as your mouth instinctively wraps around the digit, pumping the finger in and out of your lips, eyes rolling back as he feels your tongue wrap around the digit. Sucking his teeth as you shoot him a wink as he stuffs a second digit in your mouth. “Such a fucking brat, you know that?” He forces your thighs apart, free hand punctuating his words with a harsh slap to your dripping cunt.

His fingers sliding down, his fist two digits using your saliva that coated them to rub fast smooth circles against the sensitive bud. “Don’t forget your still getting punished baby.” He tsks giving you a sharp toothed grin. “Look at your pretty cunt, clenching around nothing, poor baby.” He coos, leaning down to your ear, lips grazing the shell to whisper. “You’re going to have to come from just my fingers before you can have my cock baby, think you can do that for me, hmm?”

Praise (Receiving)

Kaji had lost his temper once more, today a fight had broken out. One of the members of the opposing gang had harshly grabbed your arm, tugging you against him spitting extremities about the things he plandded to do to you. The words coupled with the fear in your wide eyes had Kaji seeing red. Completely blacking out in a fit of rage, he hated his, he especially hated you seeing him like this. The few times he had lost his temper in front of you, he ran, unable to face you. But not this time, you wouldn’t let him run from you. Grabbing the sleeve of his jacket you were quick to take him back to your apartment, silencing whatever apologies or exasperations with your lips against his.

Walking him backward toward your bedroom you wait for the back of his knees to hit the mattress. Pushing him to sit down as you climb on his lap. Mouths entangling in a heated embrace, clothes being pulled from each others bodies in a rush of passsion. Kaji trails kisses down your exposed body, lips wrapping arount a perked bud taking your nipple into his mouth. You rocked your hips against his, gronaing into the air. Your hands unfaten his pants, and with his help you pull his cock from his pants. You give him a smile, stroking his cheeks, eyes soft with fondness. “You're such a good boy Ren, always so good to me.”

You coo, the praise falling from your lips as you place one more kiss to his lips. Moving to grab him by the base, positioning him at your entrance, the desperate look in his eyes is all the confirmation you need to sink down on his length. You bite your lip, letting out a whimper at the feeling of his thick cock filling you to the brim. You tangle one hand in his hair, pulling lightly on his blonde strands, while the other moves up to his shoulder, nails digging into the skin. Pulling away only far enough to mumble into his lips. “Fuck, Ren.. Feel so good, you fill me up so good baby. I love you so much.”

Somnophillia

You wake feeling something warm between your legs. It isn’t long before your head is thrown back against the pillows you were once sleeping soundly against, voice crying out in pleasure as your boyfriend’s tongue draws slow patterns on your sensitive clit. You look down at him eyes lidded with sleep and now lust. “Haru.. what are you doing?” You mumble, blinking the sleep from your eyes. Between your thighs you can feel his cheeks heat up, a feirce blush on his features. He barely pulls from your cunt, mumbling against your center. “Couldn’t sleep, needed to taste you, ‘m want you so bad.”

He groans, hips rutting into the mattress, desperate for some friction to his aching cock. Any further arguments are silenced by a loud moan erupting from your lips, Sakura licks a fat stripe up your clit brfore reattaching his lips fully to your nub. He eats your cunt with such desperation, as if he needed to conume you to keep air in his lungs. His tongue is soon replaced by the rough pad of his thumb, head ducking lower to slide his tongue inside of your entrance, sliding against the silk walls of your pussy. He groans deep in his throat, the vibrations of the noise only enhancing the pleasure you’re feeling. ”Always taste so fucking good, need more..” He groans, pulling from your center, he slides up your body lips attacking yours with reckless hunger. He slid the material of his boxers down in one swift motion, grabbing himself by the base of his cock, collecting your wetness on the tip of his cock using it to ease himself inside your velvety walls.

He lets out a loud groan as he fully sheaths his cock inside you, head dipping to capture your lips with his own. The kiss is immediately laced with hunger, teeth clashing and tongues dancing in each others mouths. He pulls away, heavy breaths fanning against your lips as he sets a harsh steady pace from the start. “Fuck baby… can’t even sleep without you consuming my thoughts. Need you desperately… constantly.. feel like I’ll lose it if I’m not inside of you.”

Edging/Mommy Kink

You place a delicate kiss to his lips, trailing your kisses down his body until you were situated between his thighs. Looking up at him with hooded eyes from your current position. “You weren't lying baby boy. Look at how hard you are.” You grin, not letting him answer as you gave a few experimental tugs to his cock. Leaning up to lick a fat stripe from his base to his tip, collecting the pre come that had been steadily dripping since you had begun. Pulling away and leaning up once again, you grab his face in your hand, forcing his mouth open before letting your saliva mixed with his precum drip from your mouth to his. Placing a hand over his mouth, you lean down to his ear. “Swallow baby, I want you to taste us.”

You take his shock as an opportunity to lower yourself back down between his legs, swirling your tongue around his sensitive mushroom tip, taking as much as your throat would allow, hollowing your cheeks. Beginning to bob your head up and down on  his cock. Choji tugged at the cloth around his wrists, restraining himself as much as he could to not buck his hips. Failing miserably as his body writhed under yours He cried out as he felt your warm mouth around his cock, tears collecting by the corners of his eyes. Whimpers and cries falling from his lips as he found every ounce of restraint to not let his body betray him. The could in his stomach building once more for what seemed like the umpteenth time that evening. He didn’t want to fuck all of this up and receive punishment even further. “Mommy, please your mouth is so warm… be careful. I dont wanna come.. too soon.”

You grin around him, looking up at him through your lashes, nearly removing yourself from him before plunging back down, taking him until you feel him hit the back of your throat. You do this a few more times before pulling yourself off his cock with a 'pop'. You make your way up his body, getting impatient yourself, feeling your cunt clench around nothing. Straddling his abdomen, right above where he needed you most,  pressing your lips against his in a heated kiss. Desperately trying not to show that you were just as affected by your actions. You grab a fistful of his hair, tugging harshly, effectively separating your lips as you speak against his lips. “Tell mommy what you want baby boy. Go on, use your words I want to hear you.”

Dacryphillia

Each one of your pleas fog his mind with uncontrollable lust. Wram brown irises drowning in it. “So desperate for me already, darling, we havent even begun the main event.” He teases, directly into your ear, as he finally lines the tip of his thick cock with your entrance. Suo had been teasing you for what seemed like hours. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated cunt. Having made you come undone on his fingers and tongue several times, your pussy having felt desperatly empty without his cock filling you. He grins as you whine, his head just barely probing your entrance. “Please, Haya.” You whimper desperate for him to do something, anything, tears blurring your vision as they collected at your lashline.

“Please?” He tiles his head in mocking obliviousness. “Please what princess? Gotta tell me what to do or I cant help you, tell me what is it that you want?” He coos, free hand sliding up your stomach, thumb circling a pert nipple. Grinning he leans down tugging on your earlobe with this teeth, breaths fanning against your ear as he continues to speak. “Want me to fill this pretty pussy up with my cock? Feeling you flutter against me, whimpering out my name from those beautiful lips. Is that what youre asking for my pretty little bunny?”

He grins eyes lithe with mischief as you continue to babble, words coming out in a jumbled mess of pleas and calls of his name. Fat tears stream down your cheeks, desperation for him consuming your entire being. Suo’s hand coming up to caress your cheek. Thumb swiping at the tears that cascaded down your face. “Oh, sweet baby” He purrs, slipping the same thumb past your lips, letting you taste the salty wetness of your tears. “Crying for me already? We’ve barely even started.” He giggles, hips lurching forward, slamming into you to the hilt with one swift movement of his hips. Groaning as your back arches from the bed, eyes rolling back with a scream of his name being forced from your lips. “As much as I’d love to hear you beg for it, ive been waiting for too long for you my princess.~”

Cat and Mouse/CNC

Your breaths come out in heavy pants, your heart racing in your chest, your feet slamming against the grassy terrain as you run as fast as your legs can carry you. The shadow of the figure on your tail looming behind you. You pushed further, weaving in and out of trees to shake your assailant. The dark wooded area was easy to get lost in. You had only paused your running for a moment, attempting to take in your soundings, looking for a route to escape. Attempting to catch your breath, you were sure you had lost him. Just as you were about to turn on your heel and take off once more your eyes shoot wide, feeling fingers of a large hand wrap themselves around your throat. Your attacker using their grip as leverage  to shove you roughly against a tree, the larger figure looms over yours. Tattooed fingers squeezing just enough to make gaining air flow a bit difficult. Lips grazing your ear as he leans down to your height. “Gotcha~”

Endo’s piercing blue eyes lock with yours, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. Tongue invading your mouth, free hand coming up to cup your dripping cunt. Fingers circling your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. He smirks against your lips as you moan into his mouth. Pulling from you, he quickly removes your soiled panties, running his finger between your soaked slit. Bringing his finger to his lips taking in the way you taste, moaning around his fingers.

“Fuck doll, you taste so fucking good. Already so fucking wet for me.” He uses his thumb to force your mouth open, spitting a glob of saliva between your parted lips. “Go on babydoll, taste yourself.” He chuckles as you instinctively swallow, turning you in his embrace so your bent over. Flipping up your skirt, he leans back to take all of you in, eyes hungrily wracking over your exposed sex. Parting your folds with a thumb, watching as your entrance contracts around nothing a large grin splits across his face as he lands a harsh slap against your ass. “Gotta remind you who this belongs too huh? This cunt is mine princess.”

═══°∴,*⋅✲════〖✰〗════✲⋅*,∴°═══

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! I already have a part two in mind for this, so keep an eye out. Until then, see you later!

[pearlescynt]

I'm Not Glass

{ Pairing } - non-idol!Hyunjin x afab!reader

{ Genre } - forced proximity?, smut, pwp, acquaintance to lovers, developing situationship

{ Synopsis } - A vacation with your group of close knit friends? What could be better! Well, you were close with all but one person. He's an acquaintance, even after five years. A lot of things can change on vacation though... All you need is a tiny room, a bean bag, an olive branch.

(Or; the one where Hyunjin is too awkward to make any kind of move, and when you finally realize he may reciprocate your horny, lustful feelings... you make the move for both of you, or at least a comment to get things going...)

{ WC } - 5.2k

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, forced proximity, smut, pwp (plot? what plot? Porn without plot!), shy Hyune, making out, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), slight nipple play, hair pulling, fingers in mouth, seriously he's fucking your mouth with his fingers, drool, spit as lube, praise kink, manhandling (as best he can in a tiny room on top of a giant bean bag), Hyune is sensitive, he is also worshipping you, unprotected sex (piv; do as I say, not as I write & pee after sex!), overstimulation, teasing, cream pie, sweating, slight aftercare, overuse of religious puns, a forgotten about game of super smash bros, everyone was basically waiting for you two to fuck but neither of you knew that, smug comments from Seungmin, not so sly comments from Jisung

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - Hello, I come with crumbs after... 9 months of inactivity from me... I sincerely apologize. I've made enough sad, emotional and apologetic posts though, so onto the story!

I almost renamed this fic to (I'll be honest, I'm tempted to rename it after the fact still): 'Bean Bag Shennanigans' or 'Bean Bag Mishaps' OR 'Bean Bag Escapades'. Then when I came up with the puns, it was going to be 'Blessed Bean Bag' or 'The Sanctified Bean Bag'. Can you count how many times I said "bean bag" in this fic? I think I've typed and read it so much, it doesn't feel like an actual word or piece of furniture anymore lmao.

I hope you enjoy 🩷

"Did you wanna play something? We could go check out the game room. Felix said there was a switch down there." You drawl in Hyunjins direction. 

You’re laying flat on your back on a couch, staring at the ceiling. It was relaxing at first, but now you're quickly getting bored.

"Sure, it seems like everyone else is already preoccupied." He shrugs, and pops a halved strawberry in his mouth from the bowl he’d been eating. He gets up from the table where he was sketching, abandoning his work temporarily.

You’re on holiday with your friends for the week, and currently inside the ‘bnb’ you've rented together. The place was huge, with almost too many amenities.

There’s an indoor pool, a hot tub, karaoke, and a pool table. There’s lots of activities scheduled, places to visit, and sightseeing for everyone to do. But it was still nice to be able to have things to wind down with when you were inside. So everyone had dispersed not long after arriving, choosing to explore the surroundings and settle in.

Out of all your friends in this group, Hyunjin is the one you have the most... distance with. It has to be some sort of weird cosmic joke that you’ve been left alone with him right now. In the 5 years your little friend group existed, someone always usually stuck around to act as some sort of buffer between you two. Intentionally or unintentionally, you didn’t know. It’s not that you two hate each other, you just have never clicked with each other, not like you did with the others. You simply existed within the friend group together.

It seems now is an opportunity to get to know each other more in depth.

You both go down stairs, walking across the finished basement, passing Chan and Changbin. They’re at the pool table, both too consumed by the game to truly acknowledge you two. You keep walking through the room, ignoring the thuds above you. It’s the stomping footsteps and tumbling of your friends, play fighting and shouting. Hearing them brings a smile to your face.

Yes, you were all still stuck in childish ways in your mid to late twenties, but adulting is hard. Everyone deserves some fun, and a break once in a while. 

They would even pull you into their shenanigans, often pretending to wrestle with you. Tumbling around on the ground, until one of them conceded from you tickling them nonstop.

Finishing your trek across the bottom floor of the rented house, you both stood in front of a door with a multicolored LED sign on it. It reads 'arcade'. You're unsure of what to expect, but Hyunjin opens the door, and you’re both met with... a tiny room? 

If it weren't for the mounted tv, the shelf next to it that holds a switch, controllers, a box of tissues, and a few games. You'd think it was a large closet... Actually, taking another look around, that's probably exactly what it is... with a giant bean bag taking up the whole floor.

Seriously, you've never seen a bean bag that big. On top of it are a few throw pillows and a blanket.

"Well. This is certainly cozy." He says.

And you don’t know his tone well enough to know if he’s being sarcastic or snarky. So you huff out a laugh in response.

Grabbing the controllers, you sit on one side of the bean bag, leaving enough room for him to sit next to you. When he sits though, you both immediately slide into the middle of it, pressed up against each other. The two of you start chuckling awkwardly, and try to maneuver yourselves on to your own respective sides, but nothing works. You both just end up falling back into the middle every time.

Eventually you give up, no longer wanting to struggle and adjust, and instead just relax.

"I mean I can play like this." You shrug.

It truly didn't bother you. 

"Mmkay." He hums, sinking into the bean bag further with his side flush to yours.

You scroll through the games on the switch, deciding on Super Smash Bros, but it needs to be updated. So you click on 'update', and sit up to dock it. Now you just need to wait for it to be finished.

You lay on your back again, submerging further into the bean bag, and Hyunjin, and pull your phone out. 

Nothing else is planned for today, except cooking dinner when it’s time. Like you said, everyone wanted the chance to settle in before the real vacation started. So you’re in no rush to do anything, or go anywhere, but still. You’re getting more and more bored by the second, and Hyunjin is never much of a talker around you. 

After scrolling in silence, you glance up at the screen. The game was only 24% done downloading, and you sighed. 

“NO FAIR!” You hear Changbin yelling, with loud footsteps up the stairs. 

You also hear Chans giggles as he follows after him with much softer steps. 

Well. Now you’re really alone down here with him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you look and see Hyunjin scrolling on his own phone. Surprisingly it's a comfortable silence, and you feel the awkward fog disperse while being alone in this tiny space. In your perspective anyways.

That is, until you notice that he starts fidgeting. His hips and shoulders are wiggling, trying to get comfortable. And his fingers have a death grip on his phone, and he’s double tapping a bit too harshly as he likes video after video, seemingly without even watching the whole thing. He goes to adjust himself again, lifting his thigh a bit before bringing it back down, accidentally squeezing the soft skin of your outer thigh under his own.

"Ah, sorry!" He says as a blush forms on his cheeks, and he instinctively goes to rub your pinched skin.

But then he seems to realize what he did by trying to comfort you, and retracts his hand like he’s been burned.

"It's fine." You laugh. 

His shy demeanor is astonishing, especially when you’ve seen him act quite the opposite in the past with your other friends.

You're both adjusting again, trying to fit comfortably on the damned bean bag. It results in you both laying down on your sides, your back to his chest. He's unsure what to do with his arms. One is holding his phone above your head and resting on the bean bag, the other is twitching and hovering above you. He seems to want to rest it on your waist, but is unsure. 

“You can hold me, you know, I don’t mind. We all cuddle anyways, it’s nothing new. It will probably be more comfortable anyways.” You mutter.

Which is true. You all are a cuddly and touchy friend group. Snuggle piles happen quite frequently, much to certain people’s dismay, especially on movie nights. Yet somehow, every time they happen, you and Hyunjin always end up the farthest apart from each other. 

That doesn’t matter now though, you’re trying to reassure him and extend an olive branch. There’s no reason the two of you can’t be just as close as you are to everyone else.

“Oh, uh, okay. Thanks.” He manages to stutter out. 

It’s cute, he’s always been a bit timid in his interactions with you. Not that there were ever too many. Regardless, he lets his arm fall over you, let’s his fingers dangle in that area below your navel, but above your pant line. Then he’s back to scrolling on his phone, still above your head. 

You scoot back a bit, just trying to get more comfortable, but he stiffens. He’s immediately trying to back up, and ends up dropping his phone with a quiet thud, as it slips to the floor between the bean bag and the wall. His hand comes to your hip, squeezing surprisingly tight so he can hold you in place.

 He seemingly wants to avoid his pelvis pressing into you. 

“S-sorry! I’m sorry.” He spits out, his grip relaxing on your hip, but not moving so he could keep you still, “I didn’t mean to– well I didn’t want you to– just, I’m sorry.”

It's amusing really, ending up in this situation and position, with someone who is essentially an acquaintance. The two of you never hung out one on one, and only ever saw each other in group settings. Even taking all of that into consideration, this doesn't feel unnatural to you. And you won’t lie, your mind has wandered to impure thoughts about him before. 

And there’s no way you’re connecting the puzzle pieces wrong. The way he’s always acted around you, the distance you both kept from each other, it’s got to be mutual.

So you figure, now’s as good a time as any to make a move…

A smirk spreads across your lips and despite his hand desperately trying to hold you still, you move backwards, snuggling closer to him.  "Wanna know a secret?" 

You can feel him filling out in his pants, he’s half hard already from barely anything. That gives you all the conviction you need to hopefully initiate something fun. 

"Ah, sure?" His voice is shaky, adorable.

"I'm not made of glass, you can touch me. I won't break, promise. Plus," You say in a soft and low voice, "Maybe I like it a little rough."

He looks at you for a second, registering your words, and then slowly nods. Hopefully it clicked for him too.

You're sure it did, because his lips bloomed into a smile, and his eyes lidded. Then with all the sudden confidence in the world, he tugs at you rolling you over. Both of you face to face, as you dipped further into each other. He's staring into your eyes, and then he places a hand on your arm, tracing it up to your shoulder.

"So... you're okay with being touched? Anywhere?" His voice is silky smooth now, and alluring. Not to mention his eyes are sharp with a lustful resolve.

Whatever game you started playing, he clearly just took over.

You go to speak, but he brings his hand to caress your jaw, and holds eye contact with you. Gently, he grips your chin, slowly pulling you towards his face, his eyes darting to your lips. You close your eyes in anticipation, and instead feel his breath fanning your lips. His lips are ghosting over yours. He's waiting for you to make a move.

As confident as this man just was, he's still having you make the first move.

You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain, so what the hell.

Your lips brush against his, and he's kissing you back fervently. He's tender, but desperate. Deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue between your lips. The taste of him is immediately intoxicating. Mint and... strawberries?

You never thought an odder pairing tasted better.

Where he was once too nervous to even accidentally touch you, he had all the intent to make you feel on fire now.

Your bodies pressed together felt so warm. One hand clutching a fistful of his shirt, and the other wrapped around him. His hand slides down your back, resting on your butt and kneading it. Both of your legs are a tangled mess, intertwined in a way that he was able to perch his thigh between yours. He presses his thigh up, and you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a groan.

Something kept changing in him, or maybe it just kept revealing the true version of him, and you weren't prepared when he slipped his other arm underneath you, grabbed you and twisted, hauling your body on top of his. You were straddling him. His hands resting on your thighs, rubbing his thumbs in little circles. Looking down on him, you see the desire in his eyes, and you can only hope he sees the same in yours.

He no longer seems to be shy as he sits up a bit. It seems like he's admiring you, looking your body up and down. You watch as his eyes trail down to your lips, to your neck, to your heaving chest, and then lower... Where your body sat atop his, heat meeting heat. Then he's holding eye contact again as he grabs your hips, rolling you into his hardened length. Your head was clouded with lust and nothing else. He was letting you know exactly what he wanted. So when you started to move your hips of your own volition, his jaw dropped, his eyes fluttered closed, as his breath hitched.

This man is gratifyingly sensitive.

He wasn't gentle this time when he kissed you again. He sat up fully, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck. His tongue explored yours, kissing him felt like experiencing the hunger of a starved man. You were more than happy to feed him. He devoured you, and you savored each flick of his tongue. He cards his hand up into your hair from the base of your neck, and a shiver goes down your spine. His touch feels magnified. When he gripped a fistful of hair tightly, you moaned into his mouth. 

He tugged you away from his lips by your hair, craning your head back and exposing your throat to him. And you're stuck, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily. You want to pout in protest, but when he starts peppering kisses on your neck, you sigh and close your eyes. His lips were so plush and warm as he pressed them against your skin.

He's loosening his grip on your hair, and dragging his hand down your neck. You jolted a bit at him groping your chest. His palm is warm against you, and he gives a little squeeze before massaging your tit. When his teeth nip your collar bone, you're whining and biting your lip. He soothes it with his tongue, and goosebumps bloom across your body. His kisses trail down further until they can't, and he's lifting your hoodie off roughly. Irritated at the boundary between you and him. You feel so overwhelmed with want, that it aches.

You started moving your hips, trying to relieve the throbbing between your thighs. He stops to look at you reverently, his eyes lost in your expression as you attempt to pleasure yourself. You take the opportunity of him being distracted to push him down onto his back, and he grunts as he lands. It gives you a better position to roll your hips against his bulge again, sending tingles throughout your body. His hands find your hips again, and he starts rocking you faster, and rougher against his cock. His own hips meeting yours in sync.

You hear the switch remotes fall off the bean bag, lodging themselves against the door, but you choose to ignore it.

Even through layers of clothing, the sensation feels completely electric, and you sit straight up to catch your breath. But he never stops moving your hips, and you have to bite your lip to silence a moan. He had found a better angle to rub himself on your clit, and you felt the pleasure building slowly. How in the hell does this man get you close without even undressing you?

Sure you've done this before, particularly in the early days of your sexual exploration. Usually in a rushed and fumbled manner, young adults trying to figure out what feels good for them and whatnot. But this man makes dry humping feel like a whole new experience.

He looks completely disheveled underneath you, as he starts to rub and flick your exposed nipples. His eyes boring into yours again is overwhelming, almost unbearable. But you never want him to look away. You were so overheated with anticipation, that his fingers felt so cold against you now. But his lips were still so hot, as you bent down to kiss him again. It was all tongue, and spit, and incredibly messy. That's when he snapped, fully and finally, letting go completely.

He lets out the smallest growl as he flips you yet again, pinning you on your back, both your wrists being held by only one of his hands.

"You said maybe you like playing rough?" He smirks down at you, fingers tracing up your ribs.

"Love it, actually." You answer breathlessly.

He nuzzles into your neck and turns to whisper in your ear, "Good girl."

You're melting at his words, head clouding up with compliance as soon as you hear his praise. Up until now the entire ordeal was nearly silent aside from panting, moaning and groaning. If he keeps talking to you like that, your head is going to be floating away from you.

He's too busy slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts to notice. He sits up on his knees, and has your shorts and panties down to your ankles in one smooth motion. You, however, were kicking them off desperately.

He proceeds to spread your thighs, gazing at your center through those foxy eyes, "Look at this pretty, wet cunt." He mumbles.

You try not to clench your thighs, as he's holding them open still. But he feels your muscles tense. He leans closer, eyes still glued to wear you can feel slick leaking out, and licks his lips. His eyes shoot back up to you, and he tilts his head with a smile.

"Is it for me, angel?"

You whimper at the puff of warm air against you, before letting out a pathetically strangled, "hnng..." in an attempt to say yes.

He's massaging and kneading your thighs up and down. His hand draws closer to where you're craving his touch.

"We’re moving awfully fast, love. I need your consent if you want me to make you feel good. Yes or no?"

"Yes, please, I can't tak-" You're pleading without hesitation.

Before you could even finish your sentence, his tongue is licking a long strip from your opening to your clit. And you let out a pornographic moan.

He peeks up, wetness shining on his chin already, "Now, now. We wouldn't want anyone to find us in this compromising position, would we?"

"No..." You whine, bucking your hips towards his face, uncaring of how desperate you might look.

He just chuckles darkly, "Good, then keep quiet or I'll make you quiet. You'd look so adorable with your panties stuffed in your mouth."

Fuck, you had no idea he was like this. You thought he was the adorable one, all timid and cute and shy. Clearly he’d been hiding this other side of himself from you. All this time, you could have been experiencing this with Hyunjin. You curse yourself for not trying to break whatever resolve he was clearly holding back from you, earlier. 

You clamp a hand over your mouth as he goes back to pleasuring you. His tongue is focused on your clit, teasing you with kitten licks. You need more, and try to roll your hips against his mouth. But he grunted softly while holding one of your hips down.

He’s swirling circles over your clit now, and brings two fingers to your entrance. He slips them in harshly, giving you no time to adjust, and you’re thankful for how wet he had gotten you first. You feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

"You're doing so well," He whispers against your cunt.

It feels so good, even better when he curls them and starts pumping into you quickly. Reaching that gummy spot inside you repeatedly.

It was nearly impossible to stay quiet, but you managed by panting through it. 

Saliva starts collecting in your mouth from it, drool slipping out of your mouth.

You’re so close, you can’t help it when a quiet and whiny "Fuck..." Flies out of your mouth. You knew quickly though, that was the wrong move.

His fingers slow down to a lazy rhythm, still working into you but not enough to push you over the edge. He lifts his head to look at you. A smug smile plastered to his face, "Angeeeeel" He sings quietly, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard.

You hope he never stops calling you angel.

"Didn't I say to be quiet?" He asks as he removes his fingers from your pussy.

"I-I'm sorry, it just... you're so... God, it was so good." You're struggling to find your words, chest heaving, and walls clenching, searching to be filled again.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." He vocalizes and climbs up to face you, "I know a way to keep you quiet."

His fingers are prodding against your lips, and you open them automatically. He's shoving them deep, sliding against your tongue. Your lips close around them, and your tongue starts laving at them. You can taste yourself, and feel his fingers caressing your tongue. It’s like he’s teasing you, showing you what you could be feeling a little lower, if only you could be a little quieter. All it's doing is winding you up even more.

He's watching you in awe, his lips parted, eyes glued to your mouth engulfing his fingers. He pulls them out slightly and pushes them back in repeatedly, and you start drooling even more. Spit is gathering at the corner of your mouth and sliding out, his eyes tracking the glistening path it's leaving.

"When we're not in this cramped closet, I'm going to fuck your face like this." 

You gurgled a bit at that, and that was enough to push him even further. You didn’t think he was holding anything more back, but you were wrong.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, and kneels, pulling his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock. It springs up, bouncing off his stomach. He spreads the mixture of your wetness and saliva from his fingers onto his cock, and lets out a soft moan. Giving himself a few pumps, he lines himself up with your entrance, still on his knees.

He was looking down at you, seemingly admiring how fucked out you looked before his cock even entered you. You’re looking up at him expectantly. 

Without warning he thrusts into you, this time pausing for a second. You moan again and that's when he lays on top of you, kissing you. You taste yourself once more, just on his tongue this time. Nearly all your senses are overwhelmed, and you feel your mind slipping into the abyss.

He whispers against your lips, "You need something in your mouth constantly, don't you, love?"

You whimper softly, and that triggers him to start moving, barely any build up to him snapping his hips against yours. His fingers slip back into your mouth, and his head drops to your shoulder, nosing against it and humming. He was whispering sweet praises into the crook of your neck, you were barely registering it.

“You feel so good, love.”

“I’ve imagined a lot, but I never imagined you’d get this wet for me.”

“You sound so pretty trying to hold back for me.”

”Taste divine, too.”

”Such a good angel.”

You weren't going to last long, you felt about three seconds away from cumming.

What you did register very clearly, was him letting out the softest whimper directly in your ear, and nipping your earlobe afterwards. Then you were falling apart. Pleasure crashing over you, and body jerking against his. He was kissing your neck now, but his pace never faltered. Instead of helping you ride it out by slowing down, he kept pushing you higher. Your thighs were shaking, it felt like this orgasm would never end. 

It was hard to find the words you wanted to say in your hazy mind, but you found one,"S-sensitive." You whispered.

At that he did slow down a bit, and faced you again. Pressing more soft kisses to your jaw, cheeks, and lips. And you could breathe again.

"But angeeel," He sing-songed again, "Hyunie made you feel so good, don't you want me to cum too?"

You blinked up at him through teary eyes, trying to see him clearly as he was still slowly fucking you. It was still sensitive, and sore in the best way. 

"Answer me love."

Your response was on instinct at this point.

"Yes sir."

And his eyes darkened, his grip on your thighs tightened and he pushed your knees further into your chest. 

"Good girl." He praised you again, and you whimpered.

He gave no mercy though, skin slapping against skin as his hips jerked roughly into you. This time it was him clamping a hand against your mouth, he knew immediately you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet.

Your walls clenched around him, and you were in shock at the fact it felt like you were about to cum again so quickly. He grunted softly, eyes squeezing shut, and hips faltering.

"My angel feels so. fucking. perfect." He whispered, and punctuated it with one last pump into you.

His jaw dropped, and he was holding back strangled noises as he emptied his load inside you. 

You were squirming, you’re so close, just a little more and you could–

But your thoughts were blown away when he brought his fingers to your clit, and started rubbing in quick circles. Your breath stuttered, and he still held his palm over your mouth. You were grateful, because you were cumming again in seconds, a long and muffled whine breaking through. 

He didn’t keep going this time, he tapered his motions off, and as soon as he retracted his hand you were gulping for air. 

“Fuck.” You panted.

He chuckled lowly, wiping the sweat from his brow with his inner wrist, and pushing his hair back off his face. Those piercing eyes were watching you still, as you heaved for oxygen. 

“Holy fuck.” You murmured again.

“I wouldn’t say I’m all that Holy honestly, you’re the angel.” He smirked.

“No, but that was still a spiritual experience.” You laughed breathlessly, trying not to let the pet name fluster you further.

“Mmm… transcendent even.” He hummed.

Then he pulled out of you, and you hissed at the loss and the sting. 

“Stay still, I’ll clean you up.” 

You listened, letting the bean bag engulf you further as he moved towards the shelves. It’s a good thing this blanket was here. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to clean a bean bag. 

He wiped you down as best as he could with the conveniently placed tissues, and then wiped himself before tucking himself back into his pants, and then the used tissues in his pocket. 

He slid your bottoms and shorts back on, and tugged your hoodie over your head, before collapsing next to you with a huff. No hesitation in pulling you close to him this time. 

You both lay there, eyes closed, listening to nothing but each other's breathing for a few moments. Then he breaks the blissful silence. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have tried to keep going without talking to you about it first.” He muttered, giving you a squeeze. 

“Overstimulation is 100% my thing, I’m not mad about it.” You mumble and peek an eye open to look at him. 

He’s gorgeous, face still glistening in sweat, down to his neck, and hair stuck to his forehead. You sit up to reach for the tissues, wiping his face and neck down and attempting to pat his hair dry. You push it out of his face again, and look into his eyes. 

“If I’m mad about anything, it’s the fact we could’ve been doing that for years.” You smirked. 

He’s grinning now, and putting a hand around the back of your neck while you play with his hair. 

“Well, we-”

But he’s cut off, because you both hear somebody outside of the door. You both scramble to sit up straight and apart from each other. You stuff the tissues you were holding into your hoodie pocket. Just in time for the door to swing open.

There stands a curious looking Seungmin, eyeing you both and then the surroundings of the tiny room.

"What were YOU guys doing?" He says with a sly smirk.

Jisung’s head pops into view and he's squinting at the two of you suspiciously. 

You didn’t even hear anyone come down the stairs, then again that wasn’t a priority when you were too busy getting your guts rearranged sporadically. Just how much did these two hear?

"Oh, we were just playing a video game." You wave your hand at the tv, hoping to come off nonchalant.

"You were playing a game. Really?" Seungmin asks dryly.

“Must have been some game.” You hear Jisung chime in.

"Yeah," Hyunjin chuckles, "why, what's up?”

"Oh nothing, it's just funny how you can play a game with the controllers wedged underneath this bean bag here.” He says pulling them out and tossing them towards you and Hyunjin. “And the game is still on the start screen." Seungmin shrugged.

Hyunjin just smirked, and combed his hair back with his hand. You, however, feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you stare at the screen.

"Anyways." Jisung says, "We've decided we're going to play a drinking game! Come with us!" He says bouncing up and down on his heels and dashing towards the stairs.

Seungmin looks you both up and down, before he hums and walks away. As they ascend the stairs, you hear Jisung not so quietly whispering. 

“You think one of them finally made a move?” 

Then you hear a smack, and Jisung shouting about violence not being his love language.

You let yourself exhale finally with a shaky breath, and look over to Hyunjin. He’s smiling entirely too brightly for just having almost been caught in a compromising position. 

So you smack him halfheartedly in the shoulder. 

“Now what was that for?” He says, his smile seemingly not going anywhere. 

“Next time, we need a locked door, and preferably not a bean bag.” 

“Oh, next time?” He raises an eyebrow, and you want nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face. 

But if you do that, you know it will escalate. And you two still need a proper conversation about whatever just happened, because you definitely want it to happen again. Plus you don’t think you can handle anymore beanbag shenanigans. 

“Shut up.” You say instead, with a smile to match his own, “I need a shower before I play, good luck enduring the masses about what just happened.” 

“Masses? More religious puns?” He jokes. 

And it feels a little strange now, having a complete 180 and being able to converse lightly and joke with him. When not even two hours ago, you struggled with awkward silences. Then again, he was inside of you not even ten minutes ago. 

Yeah, a shower, the drinking game, a proper conversation, and hopefully more fucking. 

“What can I say, I feel blessed.” 

“I feel sinful, in the best way though.” He continues.

“I will deliver your penance later, first, I shower.” You joke and finally get off the bean bag and out of the tiny room. 

He follows behind you, as you both walk towards the stairs. But before you can get up the first step, he bends down to whisper in your ear. 

“I'll be waiting for you, I am but a devoted worshipper.”

Holy fuck, this man is going to ruin you. 

Taglist:

@eczlipse @sailor--sun @maisyyyyyy @jupire @prettiichocolateprincess

@meowmeowminnie @joyofbebbanburg @adieu-lisette @sleeping-beau-tay @staytinyluv

@lookitsjess @majorlymismanaged @kpopsstuffs @helloimacalumgirl @bbokarimenu

@bubblepop-stay @mauvemelon @ohhlittlegirl @ang4lheart @spnwinchestersd

@adieu-lisette @loud-minhoe @juwire @anylady-fics @antisocialties

@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale @fox-in-y @irrevocable-exposure

I genuinely hope you enjoyed reading this, as much as I enjoyed writing it, let me know if you did! And I hope I receive a warm welcome back to the world of writing ♡

As always, please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist. And if you do, pretty please interact with my fics besides liking (ie; replying/commenting/reblogging). Although I will always appreciate liking as well! Feedback is always cherished! ♡

But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.

[snail-day]

Parasite

Sum: Nothing bad ever happens from a fling, right?

Yan!SatoSugu x Reader

TW: Yandere Behaviors, Pregnancy/Implied Baby trapping, Non-con/Dub-con, Double Penetration, Power imbalance, mild gore (curses), Execution mentions, MDNI

WC: 3.5k

A/n: there will be another part eventually! Mwah!

You knew this was wrong - every part of it. You shouldn’t be here, ensnared between the two most dangerous sorcerers alive. You shouldn’t be gasping sweet moans into the mouth of the enemy, pressed between their feverish, toned bodies. And yet, here you were, lips crushed against Satoru’s, desperation tangible as he chased every breath you tried to take. Hungry. Starved. Intent on devouring you whole. His long, slender fingers found their way to the curve of your waist, dragging the blunt edge of his nails along the softness of your skin. His lips followed, trailing down the column of your neck, branding you with searing heat. Behind you, Suguru pressed closer, his warmth a slow, creeping heat licking up your spine, airy touches ghosting down your body. That voice - silken and intoxicating - curled into your ear, pulling a sigh from your lips before you could stop it.

“I missed you,” he murmured, those thick fingers of his flexing against your tender, pliant flesh. Then, with a teasing lilt, he added, “And you know… I don’t think I’ll let you leave this time.”

The same joke. The same dangerous hint of a smile in his words. He used to say it back when you’d slip into his dorm in the dead of night, when stolen kisses in dim hallways felt like secrets worth keeping. But that was then.

You felt Suguru’s hands glide up from your hips, pulling you from your thoughts, his soothing touch tracing idle patterns into your skin. There was an almost languid hunger in the way he moved - a need to claim, to memorize every curve, every tremor that rippled through you under his touch. Big, warm calloused palms, rough from training, grazed over your flesh, scorching everywhere they touched. Higher and higher, teasingly slow, until they reached their destination, cupping your breasts, kneading softly before his thumb flicked over your sensitive nub, coaxing a gasp from your lips.

His mouth was just as sinful, hot and insistent. Lips latched onto the nape of your neck, sucking a bruising mark into your skin - one you’d surely chastise him for later. 

Yet, in this moment, all you could focus on was the way you were sinking onto Satoru. The thick stretch of him stole your breath. God, you’d forgotten how full he made you feel - almost too much, the urge to say wait nearly slipping from your lips. But you couldn’t stop - not with Suguru pressing in behind you, trapping you between them, the weight of what was at stake pressing just as heavily against your skin.

How long had it been since the three of you planned this? A month? Two? If the higher-ups ever found out -

“You’re overthinking again,” Satoru whined, his voice breathy with need. He gazed up at you, those bright, lust-hazed eyes brimming with impatience. His grip on your hips tightened before he yanked you down, forcing his length deeper inside you. A sharp moan tore from your throat, body trembling as pleasure jolted through you.

“Can feel you dryin’ up,” Satoru murmured, his voice dipping into something teasing yet edged with need. “C’mon, pretty - focus on us.”

Suguru seemed to notice as well, one hand slipping away, trailing down to the small of your back. With a firm, gentle nudge as he guided you forward until your body melted against Satoru’s warm chest. Hazy and pliant, you let your lips find his in a slow, heated kiss, too lost in him to register the shift behind you.

At first, you barely noticed the second press of a velvety tip at your entrance, too caught up in the way Satoru’s fingers tangled in your hair, keeping you tethered to him, deepening the kiss. But when Suguru pushed forward, sinking in inch by inch, Satoru stilled, smiling against your lips as if savoring your reaction.

The stretch was dizzying, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat - one that Satoru eagerly swallowed, his tongue licking into your mouth to steal the sound. Behind you, Suguru let out a low, satisfied hum, his grip tightening as he cooed,

“It’s just a big stretch, Angel. You can handle it.”

The sinful reassurance dripped from Suguru’s lips that only made the overwhelming sensation all the more dizzying. Sounds you’d never made before were quickly swallowed by Satoru, his soft, glossy lips moving hungrily against yours as your mind slipped into a hazy, pleasure-drunk daze. It was too much - you felt too much.

You tried to speak, to push the word yellow against Satoru’s lips, but he was too lost in you to notice. Too absorbed in the way your body trembled between them, too caught up in his own pleasure to realize you were instinctively trying to move forward - to run - only for Suguru’s grip to turn cruel as he began pulling your hips back in place.

The first wave crashed through you, the lights from the room turning into blurring stars as you did your best to focus on anything but the overwhelming stretch, away from the pleasure being dragged out of you. As your maw went slack, drool spilling past your lips, your body greedily clenched around them both, walls closing in on their thick cocks that seemed to twitch as your cunt sang to their ears. Satoru sucked in a sharp breath beneath you, his grip on your waist faltering as he stilled.

“Fuck - ” a deep groan pushed outwards, his perfect face contorting into pleasure as his white brows furrowed, stuttering a few pleasure-laced breaths before heat flooded inside your body, swarming with your juices. White rings forming around their cocks as both your bodies tensed from the sensation, as your cunt wrung every last drop, sodden walls clenching down mercilessly. Satoru whined, high and breathy, shivering beneath you, but Suguru didn’t stop. Of course, he didn't, instead a soft moan left his lips as he pushed himself deeper, to witness the twitches in Satoru’s body from the overstimulation. 

Satoru had always been an early finisher. His hands however, remained bruising on your skin, fingers dragging down your back, leaving behind stinging scratches as his pale body twitched from the sensitivity as Suguru’s cock dragged against his. You yelped, the sharp sensation blending into the white-hot pleasure building inside you, your moans growing more desperate. You were close - so close.

Satoru pulled you tighter against his chest, cradling you as Suguru’s pace quickened, each thrust sending you spiraling higher, sending your mind spiraling higher as the words yellow to red formed on your lips, words that didn't have the chance to escape. As Satoru's mouth was already there, devouring, consuming, smothering every syllable before it could escape. His tongue swept into your mouth, swallowing every fractured breath and plea. The pleasure crested a blinding, suffocation sensation that sent your body shaking. a keen whine manages to break through your throat, ragged and breathless as tears prickle at your lashes. Hot and stinging. Slipping free in the spaces where neither of them was watching.

Satoru, ever the sweet talker, murmured soft breathless praises into your ear, his voice dripping with adoration. 

“That’s it, pretty,” he cooed, voice hazy as he felt Suguru’s cock twitch against his dragging a breathless, pitiful whine from his lips before continuing, “Just let go. We’ve got you.” 

You don’t remember much after that - after the gasp that tore from your lips, the slick warmth pooling between your thighs, after the small press of something making you feel impossibly fuller. Sleep had dragged you under far too quickly, faster than the aftercare, faster than the quiet murmurs and touches meant to tether you back to them.

When you awoke, the room was silent, save for the muffled hum of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Tokyo’s skyline bled into the dim hotel walls, casting soft, shifting reflections across the room. The heat of their bodies had long since vanished, leaving behind only the ghost of them - cologne, sweat, and the unmistakable, sinful scent of last night.

You groggily pushed yourself up, muscles aching, the soreness wrapping itself around your limbs like a cruel embrace - a stark reminder of why you needed to keep your distance. A month should be enough. A month to shake off their hold, to regain some semblance of control. You didn’t envy the poor soul who ended up with them permanently.

Blinking against the remnants of sleep, your gaze landed on the nightstand. A neatly folded note sat there, the ink bold and familiar, the elegant scrawl unmistakably Suguru’s.

Hotel is paid for. I’ll have my assistant schedule our next meeting. Order some food. Please. Satoru turned off your alarm - you looked exhausted.

And beneath it, a final line, one that made something in your chest twist.

I hope this time you’ll consider saying yes.

Of course.

There it was.

Your eyes drifted lower, and sure enough, a small velvet box sat beside the note.

This had to be the fifth - no, the sixth - ring they’d given you.

The first had been simple: a thin silver band pressed into your palm the night Suguru defected. His bloodied hand - blood that wasn’t his - had cupped your cheek as he begged you to come with him. As he whispered that he couldn’t leave without you.

Instead, you had backed away.

You had stayed while they left.

You had chosen the world that they had rejected. A world focused on protecting the weak. A world that the strongest had abandoned.

And somehow, despite everything, you had ended up in this arrangement -  was it lust? Was it the ache of loneliness? Or was it something far along the lines of the intoxicating thrill of being wanted by the strongest?

You weren’t sure. However, you did the same thing you always did.

You left the ring untouched. You never even opened the box to see what elaborate choice they had made this time. It didn’t matter. It never mattered.

This was a fling. Nothing more. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. A day later, the Google invite arrived - subtle, inconspicuous, something that wouldn’t raise suspicion among the higher-ups. Two private addresses - never the same location, never the same time. Just a casual meeting of sorts.

You knew better. You knew exactly what would happen if the higher ups caught you with the enemy. And those two knew too - constantly reminding you in soft murmurs and teasing threats that you would be executed.

You tried not to think about it.

So, out of pure spite, you pressed the response button to their invite:

Maybe.

Not like they could contact you, anyway.

But when the end of the month arrived and your period didn’t, the world seemed to fracture beneath you. You counted the days again. And again. You told yourself it was nothing - stress, exhaustion, the toll of constant missions. You tried to believe it.

Still, when the next invitation came, you declined. No explanation. No excuses. Just Declined.

You were busy. Too busy. Missions, training, anything to keep yourself from spiraling. Anything to push the thought - the creeping, gnawing what if - out of your mind.

Anything to push them out of your mind. You didn't need them. This is where you draw the line. Where you hope to never cross paths again.

But that didn’t stop Suguru. He always had his ways of reminding you. Reminding you of his love. The curses came first, creeping from the shadows like nightmarish specters - grotesque things with gnarled, sinewy limbs and rotting flesh that peeled in thick, oozing sheets. Their twisted bodies slithered toward you, spines snapping and limbs jerking with unnatural movements, but it was their mouths - oh, their mouths - that haunted you most.

Petals.

Blood-red roses, blooming in grotesque mockery, spilled from their jagged maws, dripping with saliva and something darker. The scent of decay mixed with the sickly sweet perfume of crushed petals as they gurgled and snarled, teeth flashing between the soft, delicate flowers. Their fingers - long, clawed things  - reached for your flesh, desperate to tear, to consume, to remind you.

Suguru always was a cruel bastard.

But he never sent anything you couldn’t handle. Never anything that could truly harm you - only the most horrifying of his discarded creatures, his unwanted experiments, cast-offs he no longer had use for. They were love letters written in nightmare fuel, messages of devotion carved into the flesh of his creations, each one a whisper of don’t forget me.

And then another month passed.

Another invite.

Another decline. You had things to do, a family-mart to visit. The open bag sat beside you, its contents spilling haphazardly across the sink - water bottles, half-torn hydration drink wrappers, and an obscene number of pregnancy tests. The dim bathroom light flickered above, casting sickly yellow hues over the mess around you. Shadows stretched and twisted against the walls, warping your reflection in the mirror, making it seem as distorted as the thoughts racing through your head.

Your hands trembled violently as you stared down at the scattered tests, their tiny plastic frames stark against the floor. Five. Five identical windows, five glaring verdicts. Five quiet executions of your denial.

Double lines.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Your breath hitched, ragged and uneven, the walls pressing in tighter with every second. Your fingers curled as you grabbed another test, fumbling with frantic, clumsy hands. The packaging crinkled, tearing easily under your shaking grip. Your pulse pounded so loud, so deafening, that you barely heard the sob clawing its way out of your throat.

They have to be defective.

They had to be. Each and every single one of them.

Your vision blurred, hot tears streaking down your face as you fought to steady your hands. The plastic test felt too light, too fragile in your grip - like it was toying with you, waiting to deliver the final blow, waiting to write your execution for something you should have prevented. You uncapped the pathetic thing. Was it because you bought the cheap ones? You should go back and buy the fancy digital ones. Your mind raced as your stomach began twisting, breath began stuttering. The air felt thick, suffocating, heavy with the scent of cheap drugstore plastic and the artificial sweetness of cherry flavoring clinging to the back of your throat. You forced yourself to sit down, legs weak, heart hammering. One more time. Just one more.

One negative is all you were asking for.

You set the test aside, gaze locking onto the result window as if sheer willpower could bend fate. Seconds stretched into an eternity.

Blank.

Blank.

One line.

Two lines.

A strangled, broken laugh escaped you, the sound barely human. Your fingers curled around a hydration bottle, knuckles white as you wrenched it open, nearly crushing the plastic in your grip. You tipped it back in desperate, greedy gulps, the icy liquid searing its way down your throat - sharp enough to make you gasp, sharp enough to ground you in the reality you wanted so desperately to escape.

The tests stared back at you. You weren’t sure how it happened. Well you know how it happens, but you took precautions. You took your pill every single day. Same time. Same routine. Same - your breath caught in your throat.

Satoru turned off your alarm.

A slow, creeping dread slithered through your veins, colder than anything Suguru had ever sent your way.

You missed a day?

No.

You would’ve noticed.

You should have noticed.

…Right?

But the truth lay there before you, undeniable, etched into every test scattered around you. The parasite growing inside you, feeding off your body - their child. A shudder racked your spine, ice pooling in your veins. Your breath hitched, coming in short, uneven gasps as the weight of reality pressed against your chest like a crushing vice. Trembling fingers drifted to your stomach, ghosting over the bare skin as if the simple touch could ground you, could somehow make this feel less real.

But there was no escaping it.

No rewinding time.

No undoing the impossible.

For the first time in years, you were utterly, hopelessly lost.

Your gaze flickered toward your phone, the dim glow of the screen barely cutting through the suffocating darkness of your apartment. The silence pressed in, thick and smothering, tightening with every shallow breath.

A name.

A person you could call.

Your trembling fingers hovered over Satoru’s contact, the letters blurring through the haze of unshed tears.

Satoru - the one who used to press featherlight kisses against your cheek before missions, grinning like the world couldn’t touch you both. The one who would cup your face between his hands, his breath warm against your lips as he whispered the plan to sneak sweets into the dorms, as if it were some grand conspiracy the two of you shared. Sneak them in before Suguru could roll his eyes and scold you both.

Satoru, who left with Suguru.

Satoru, who had clung to you in one last, desperate embrace, his fingers digging into your uniform, his entire body trembling as he silently, wordlessly begged you to come with them.

Begged you to be under their protection.

But you stayed.

You hesitated. Your fingers twitched away from his name. You knew how it would go - he would answer immediately, voice laced with curiosity, amusement, with the confidence that he could fix whatever was wrong. And he would come for you. No hesitation. No delay.

And then there was Suguru.

Your thumb hovered over his contact, breath shuddering out in uneven gasps.

Suguru, who would let the call ring twice - never once, never three times - just long enough to feign indifference, to uphold the meticulously crafted illusion that he wasn’t waiting for you to reach out. That he wasn’t hoping.

But you knew better. You could already hear the smug smirk in his voice, the lazy amusement when he’d finally answer, when he’d ask if you got his flowers.

Not a chance.

And then - Shoko.

Shoko, who had left with them.

Shoko, who had always been your rock, who made those two make sense.

Shoko is a doctor; she would understand what to do, who to talk to, options to - no you couldn't. You should find another way, you should-

Your stomach dropped. Your fingers jerked away from the screen as if burned, but it was too late. The screen flashed. Your pounding, thundering heart had stopped and sank to the pits of your stomach where your parasite now resides.

You were already calling her.

A sharp inhale rattled through your chest, uneven, choked. A fresh wave of panic crashed over you, drowning you in its suffocating weight. Tears burned at the edges of your vision, hot and relentless, blurring the damning sight of the pregnancy tests littered across the bathroom floor. A tremor wracked your entire body, bile clawing its way up your throat, acidic and revolting, as the cold, inescapable truth settled like lead in your stomach.

This wasn’t just your problem.

This wasn’t something you could pretend didn’t exist.

If you carried this child - their child - the higher-ups would execute you both. No hesitation. No trial. No chance to beg. No hope for leniency.

The dial tone barely rang once before a voice sliced through the suffocating quiet.

"Yo." Shoko’s voice rang light, unbothered. However, in the background, a quiet shuffle. A soft scuffle.

Then a familiar, whining voice. "Lemme listen in - " Satoru. A shiver rolled through you, dread sinking its jagged claws deeper into your chest. They were together.

You couldn’t tell them.

You couldn't tell anyone.

Because, your family - your colleagues, the very people you swore loyalty to - would brand you a disgrace. A traitor. A whore who spread her legs for the enemy.

Because, the higher-ups would carve your execution date into stone.

Because -

"I might not let you go this time." Suguru’s voice slithered through your mind, smooth as silk, suffocating as a noose. Your throat constricted, something raw and primal clawing at your chest, your heart pounding so violently it hurt. Your grip on the phone was white-knuckled, shaking so hard you thought you might drop it.

And all you could say to Shoko was -

"Wrong number."

Before hanging up. Before glancing at the string of texts filtering through with Shoko's name attached to them. Texts you assumed weren't from Shoko. Your fingers pressed Block on the contact after seeing the last one. "I miss you" before tears spilled your eyes once more.

You weren’t sure what to do.

Who to speak to.

Who was safe.

Who wasn’t.

Your vision swam, the weight of it all crashing down like an tide, dragging you under.

Why did you stay?

Why did you return to their arms?

And why did a small part of you think it would be easier to just go to them.

[reiderwriter]

hi Kacie :"> it's me :"> just thinking about ''reader sitting on his face in reverse cowgirl and decides to just unbutton and zip down his pants, turning this to a 69 and somehow both of them make it into a 'who's gonna make the other one finish first' competition'' nothing much how has your afternoon been I hope you'll have a great day xx -kei

A Kei request a day keeps the chances of my going to heaven away 🙏 I <3 smut

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, use of pet names (good boy), sub(ish) Spencer Reid, munch!Spencer, oral (m +f), 69ing, rough sex, face fucking, unprotected oral sex, no plot just sex. Literally no plot.

Masterlist <3

With a cock that perfect and neglected right in front of your face, you could hardly resist the temptation to give it a tiny taste.

It wasn't like it was against the rules of your non-hookups with Spencer. He'd ask for explicit pictures twice a week, which you'd happily send for the chance to be sat on his tongue by 10pm that Friday evening, days on which cases landed notwithstanding.

Hotel rooms were very convenient hook up spots, especially the ones with free condoms and tissues on both the nightstand and by the desk chair.

Not that you ever needed condoms, really. You'd never so much as touched Spencer's cock, let alone had it inside you. He was too much of a giver to take something like that from you. His cock was always hard, always visible through his pants, but he was so focused on your pleasure, he didn't care about his own needs being met.

Spencer's tongue was your personal sex toy. You'd fucked his face multiple times, grabbing his hair and forcing his nose into the bristles of hair at the end of your pelvic bone as you ground your cunt into his wet, hot mouth. You'd laid back contentedly and let him peacefully lick and suck slowly for hours on end, cumming multiple times as he explored your sensitive parts.

You'd sat on a chair, legs spread, and let him lap up your cum on his knees, because there was nothing in the world he wanted more.

More than once, you knew, he'd walked away with cum dampening his pants, having enjoyed your moans and taste so much that he'd lost it before really touching you.

But Spencer Reid was being unfair getting you to sit on his face, to look at his big, thick cock atraining through his pants, straight on, and telling you to sit still and enjoy his tongue when all you wanted was to take him as far down your throat as he could get.

“Fuck, Spencer,” you moaned again as he nipped at your clit, tongue flicking it as you felt a familiar burn of stimulation at your core.

You were going to end up roughly fucking his face if you weren't careful. His tongue just felt too good.

You slid your hands down his stomach a bit, landing on his loose pants as you repositioned your knees.

“Spencer, that's it keep going. Good boy, good boy.”

You gripped his pants tightly, using the little bit of tension to help you arch back, pushing more of your ass onto his face than before.

But your arms, already weak from a rough day at work, slipped again pushing his pants down just one more inch until his cock could finally spring loose. You wanted nothing more than to taste it, reaching forward and looking at it intensely as your mouth watered. You didn't get closer than a breath away, as Spencer immediately stopped when your mouth almost achieved its goal.

“Fuck, fuck, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Spencer mumbled crawling out from underneath you as he scrambled to get his cock back in his pants.

“Spencer-”

“I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I'll-”

“Spencer, slow down. What?”

You'd seen Spencer flushed with desire before, but the redness of his cheeks was different somehow now. More embarrassment than anything else.

Slowly, you crawled towards him again, trying to look as non-threatening as you could, clad only in hastily pushed aside panties and dishevelled dress. Your hand slowly traced up his thigh, and you kept it there, still for a second watching to see what Spencer would do next.

“Spencer. Why can't I see your cock?” You asked, voice low but light, almost surprising yourself with how breathy and needy you sounded.

“I… I thought you wouldn't want to see…” he trailed off, and you pouted up at him, stroking his thigh as he looked down distractedly at you.

“I want to. Can I have it now?” You asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“Y/N…. It's… I've had complaints in the past, it's not…” he struggled to find the words as your hand brushed over his crotch now tracing the bulge in his pants as his head dropped backwards.

“It's not what? Big? Don't lie to me.”

“That's not it… I get… I get too overwhelmed if you do that, I get too-”

“Too….” You mimicked, dropping a hand into his underwear as his hand fell over yours, unsure whether it was to stop you or to set the pace of your impromptu hand job.

“Rough,” he said, as you firmly gripped his cock, using your other hand to free him from his pants and underwear, knocking his hand away as you ran your palm along the length of his hard cock.

“Rough?” You said, gripping the tip of his cock, teasing it until it shone with precum.

His hand fell back over yours, more firmly this time, as he met his eyes with yours.

“I didn't want to hurt you, but I get so overwhelmed if I use it that I… I get rough, I don't listen well-”

You were practically dripping listening to his explanations for not fucking you, or even letting you see his cock.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Yes! It's like… Y/N, I'd treat you like a sex toy, not a person, and I want this to be good for you, too, so let's not-”

You cut him off with a rough kiss as you pressed him back into the bed, straddling his thighs as you gently fisted his cock, rubbing up and down slowly.

“I'll make a deal with you, Spencer,” you said, between gasps of air. “I'll sit on your face again, and you let me suck your cock. When you get rough, if you get rough, you'll be able to feel how much I'm enjoying it, okay?”

He nodded between kisses, words forming and melting on his tongue as his hips began thrusting into your hand, his thigh digging into your mound as he thrashed towards a climax.

“Good boy,” you said, kissing him one last time before letting go of his cock and climbing out of his lap.

His body twitched in protest, but his big hands grasped you quickly, pulling you up the bed as you eagerly went with them, losing your panties on the way as you let your dress fall around his face in an all too familiar position.

But this time, you lowered yourself down, too, spitting on his tip quickly as his tongue got to work teasing your clit slowly.

You gave him a few pumps, before lowering yourself more completely on his face, pressing your chest close to his abdomen and taking his cock slowly onto your mouth.

Spencer wasn't small, but you also weren't going to let him be a challenge. You got a few inches down before you decided to come back up again, hands still stroking the base and massaging the rest. You did that a few times before you felt Spencer's body angle up into you again.

Changing his leg position on the bed, Spencer thrust his cock up into your mouth as you forced yourself to breathe. His cock thrust up again, quickly but totally and he left it there for a few seconds before pulling it out again.

The entire time, he hadn't let up his work on your cunt. His to guess flattened out against your clit, roughly stroking that sensitive area with a precision only he knew. A hand clasped around your hips, gripping your ass kept you firmly in place on his face, as his hips bucked into you.

He got faster, wilder, and yes, rougher.

You didn't want to pull off his dick, but moving back was instinctual. He pushed you right back in with a hand on your head, fisted into your hair as he synchronised your movements, pulling your head up as he pulled his cock away from your lips, and pushing it back down when his hips snapped up.

You moaned hysterically when you came apart on his face, feeling your cum trickling down your leg as he continued to use you to get off. His to guess never stopped, even after wave after wave of your juices hit him.

The only sign of his impending orgasm was the tightening of his hands, both of them now coming down on your head, forcing you to the base of his sizable cock as your tongue touched his balls. He came down your throat and immediately releases you, spluttering and coughing as your legs trembled.

Spencer scrambled to get you on your back, pushing you upright and patting your back as you regained your breath.

“I'm sorry, Y/N, I said it wasn't a good ide-”

You pushed your cum stained tongue into his mouth, shutting him up quickly as he tasted himself, and you tasted yourself, and your tastes mingled quickly, as you climbed into his lap again.

“Spencer,” you said, catching your breath once again, collapsing into his arms.

“If I need to beg for your cock, I will. I like it rough. I-” you gasped again, feeling his cock stirring with each word.

“I very much like it when you use me like a sex toy. So… so in the future, please use all of me, and I'll use you, too.”

[whimsyvixen]

Ooh would you ever do a piece on like a riot cop/riot suppression officer? Just a big burly guy with a face covering helmet that wants nothing more than to pound some law and order into the mc

Men in uniform always have clutching my pearls. Abuse of authority kink makes me one sick woman but I can't help my desires. I want to be held down by a strong man, especially by one that is hellbent on putting me in my place~~⛓️😩

You have a very peculiar head on those shoulders, darling. I absolutely love it~ 🖤♥️. You actually gave me a bit of motivation to doodle something for this idea of yours. I can't offer you a story so this drabble is the best I can give you. I hope you like it ✌️💋💋💋!!

~

Red Velvet

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Riot police officer x female reader

⚠️ WARNINGS/TAGS⚠️: explicit content, yandere, dark smut, rape/non-con elements, forced orgasm, unprotected sex, mating press, forced breeding, slapping, dacryphilia, degradation, dirty talk.

You're shrieking and sobbing from the exquisite fucking being forced on you. It was too much! I couldn't do this anymore. You're trying to shove him away and pleading for him to be more gentle, your squirming doing little to disrupt the tempo of his pistoning hips.

Desperately, you threw your hand forward with all your might and your fist connected with his face. He let out a grunt of pain, holding his nose with one hand while he held you down with the other hand to pin you to the floor. Seeing him gingerly touch his nose to determine the damage, your struggles renewed to get away from him. Suddenly, a vicious backhand twisted your head to the side, your stunned face breaking out in more tears from the sting on your cheek.

"The hard way it is then," there is a vacant look in his eyes as he stares down at you, making you dread what he had in store for you. He is quick to grab the back of your knees, pushing them to your chest to fold you into a more obscene position.

He doesn't give you time to formulate a protest before your high pitched cries echo across the room once more as he jackhammers into your poor abused pussy, the filthy squelch of cock piercing the walls of your womanhood audible over the repeated slap of wet flesh clashing against one another. Tears blur the image of the riot police officer above you, his black attire pristine if not for the blood smeared across it.

Those poor people. They didn't deserve it and here you were, allowing the monster responsible for their deaths pound away at your insides like a common whore.

"I'm almost there, you rebellious little bitch," he hissed over you, his serpentine eyes fixated on his cock plundering the heated depths of your pussy. His brows scrunched in near pain as your cunt strangles his dick, your walls gripping the rod of flesh so tightly that it was almost hard to pull out of you when he shifted his hips back.

"I'm cumming inside this tight little pussy." He chuckled at your horrified expression, bringing one gloved hand down to rub your swollen clit tenderly before pinching it between his fingers. The action had your hips thrusting up, a mortifying moan escaping your lips as you shook from the painful pleasure. Your eyes rolled back as he continued applying pressure to your sensitive nub, your mind no longer coherent as your body became a slave to his touch. Your hips started grinding shyly into his thrusts, unable to resist the decadent pleasure of a dick stretching your cunt and kissing your womb with every deep thrust.

"Good girl, let's end this, yeah?" He murmured sweetly, his harsh breathing muffled behind his mask. "I can feel my balls tightening up. Get ready for my load, bitch. You'll be drowning in it soon enough."

[l1tw1ck]

Compromised

Bottom!FTM Peter Parker x Top!Villain CEO!Masc Reader

🕸️ Word Count: 1,226 🕸️

AFAB Language Used | this *might* become a multi-chapter fic but this part won't be canon, i changed my mind after i started the second chapter and this wouldn't fit 😭 so just treat it as a oneshot

CW: Non-Con, Kidnapping, Drugging, Blood, Virginity Loss, Cunnilingus, Creampie

Peter looks up at you with blurry vision, his body bruised and bloody. He can barely move.

You rip off his mask. “Aren't you the one who works for Jameson? I always knew your pictures were too good.” You chuckle. “You are cute though.”

He's fading in and out of consciousness, he can barely comprehend your words.

“I’ll be taking you home with me.”

Peter slowly opens his eyes, still feeling dizzy and weak. He looks down and fear instantly hits him. He's completely naked and tied up. He looks around the room for anything to help him while trying to break his restraints with brute force.

The noise draws you inside.

“Yo- you-” He recognizes you. The CEO of a company that rivals Stark Industries and Oscorp.

“I have a plan for you, Parker.” You walk over to him. “I’ll let you live and I won't tell a soul about your identity. In return, you'll help me take down Stark Industries.”

“Kidnapping someone isn't really a great way to propose a partnership, you know.” He manages to keep up his persona, trying to calculate how he can get out of this.

“Well, appealing to you isn't a part of my plan. How you feel about this doesn't matter to me. You won't have a choice once my subordinate gets his hands on you.”

“Wh- what are you gonna do to me?”

You slowly untie him. “Just a little memory altering. I’d love to train you but there's not enough time…it’s too bad.” You brush his hair to the side. He tries to hit you but it's too difficult, he only grazes your cheek. You laugh at his attempt and grab his wrists. “Don't worry, I won't hurt you after today. You’ll be spoiled rotten. My special little spider.”

“No– no! Don't touch me!” He squirms around in your hold.

“I should've known a single dose wouldn't be effective enough.” You let go of him and turn to the supply cart next to him. He tries to shoot a web to stop you from whatever you’re trying to do, but only a weak spurt leaves his wrist. He then attempts to get on the ground and crawl. You ignore him and prepare his next injection. He feels humiliated as he continues to crawl towards the door. The fact that you're not even looking at him tells him that he doesn't have a chance. But he tries anyway.

He only ends up a couple inches away from where he started when you ‘catch’ him and turn him around. You use one hand to pin his arms above his head and use the other to inject a serum meant to sedate and arouse him. “Don't worry, Peter, you won't remember any of this. If that makes you feel better. I just wanna have some fun with you first.” You toss the empty syringe.

“Get- get away from me–” He tries everything he can to hurt you but his remaining strength is starting to dwindle as the serum runs through his body. You pry his legs apart and stick your head in between. You drag your tongue up his folds then lovingly suck on his dick. You bring your hands to his chest and circle his sensitive nipples. He subconsciously raises his hips and whimpers.

“No- no- no-” He shakes his head, crying. He doesn't want to lose his virginity like this, not here, not to you. “Uhn~” His toes curl. His spidey senses are going off, making it even harder to think. The drug is making the spider parts of him go haywire, it's not working properly. It's aggressively ringing all the alarm bells inside him. His webs weakly shoot out of his wrists like a deflating balloon. His head is pounding. His brain is yelling at him.

Defend yourself. Hurt them. Kill them. Call for help. Run. Give in. Give in.

Give in.

It feels so good. It feels so good.

I wanna come. I wanna come.

His hands stick to the ground, his legs spread further apart, his mouth hangs open to sing noisy, wordless praises to compliment your skill.

“Stop!” He cries out.

Don't stop. Don't stop!

Yes!

Peter gasps, his hips jerking upwards as he squirts on your face. His head presses against the floor. His body trembles. Then he calms down.

He raises his head and looks at you as you pull away from him. His eyes follow your hands as they unzip your pants. As they free your hard dick. As they direct it onto his wet pussy. Then he focuses on your cock. Your length. Your girth.

I want it.

“No-” His voice trembles. “Don't- don't put that- inside me!”

Shove it inside me. I need it. Fill me. Mold my body to fit you. Ruin me.

The head of your cock slowly breaches him. Peter’s webs shoot out like a can of silly string on its last legs. Weak little spurts continue to leave him. Both from his wrist and from his cunt. He feels weaker every time.

It hurts. It’s too big. It hurts.

“It's interesting to see how your body reacts to the drug.” You wipe the tears from his eyes. “It's too bad I won't be using it again…Although I am interested in what’ll happen once my subordinate alters your memories…maybe I’ll tell them to make you an obedient slut for me.”

Own me.

“Ple- please-” He gasps. He's not entirely sure what he's begging for. His brain is sending conflicting messages.

You lean into his ear. “Admit it, Spidey, you love how big I am and how well I fill your tight fucking pussy.”

I love it.

“I hate– ugh-” He hisses.

I'm so full.

“I’ll kill you..” He clenches his fists.

“Oh, but I thought Spider-Man didn't kill?”

“..ma- make an exception-” He loses his ability to grip, his fists come undone as you bottom out.

“Really? I’m honored, sweetheart.” You slowly pull out, stopping before you fully leave him. “You're bleeding. Guess I was too rough.” You lick your lips at the red coating on your cock.

“You're disg—uh~!” You suddenly thrust inside him and knock the wind out of him, a longer string of web leaving his body. His whimpering and gasping quickly turns into whines and moans as you fuck him. His eyes roll to the back of his head. The bandage and wound on his cheek loosens and opens up, causing blood to run down his face. His brain starts to feel like scrambled eggs.

“Doesn't it feel good, baby?”

He responds with a jumbled mess of words that are impossible to decipher. You already took a bunch of pictures of him earlier but you find yourself wishing you still had that camera with you. In this state, he's more beautiful than any of the artwork in the Metropolitan. You grab his sides, triggering the pain in his sore, bruised body. He makes a loud and erotic noise in response.

He writhes around, sobbing and trying to squirm out of your hold. He manages to say “Please–!”.

“Since you asked so nicely.” Your thrusts stop as you come inside him. You let go of him and brush the hair out of his face, then wipe his blood.

His body twitches, like a spider that's been stepped on.

[xobunni0]

CLOSE ₊˚⊹ᰔ min su x f!reader

naked cuddling, cock warming, non game au

‘you’re all I need, every time I get a bit inside I feel it.’

min su’s breath tickled the back of your neck, quick and uneven. his body was so warm behind you, his chest pressed flush to your back, his arm tucked under your head the way it always was when he wanted to keep you close for hours.

his cock was buried deep inside you, thick and full, snug in the wet warmth of your pussy. it wasn’t about having sex. not tonight. this was your quiet little routine, something intimate and sweet that made his heart race more than anything else. just being inside you, with the occasional slow clench you didn’t even realize you were doing until he whimpered against your shoulder

you shifted a little, trying to get comfortable, and the small motion, your ass pressing tighter against his hips, your pussy gripping him just slightly harder from the angle change, pulled a trembling gasp from his lips.

“Baby…” he groaned “feel like I’m gonna cum already.”

you could feel his cock twitch inside you, the slightest tremor of his hips showing how close he was to cumming even without a single stroke. you smiled into the crook of his bicep

“You’re so sensitive” you murmured, rocking your hips just slightly back into him, and he gasped, actually gasped, a sharp quick breath “we’re not even moving.”

he let out a shaky laugh, but it quickly turned into a groan, his forehead pressing into your shoulder as he tried, tried so hard, to hold still. his cock throbbed, nestled in your pussy, his hand squeezing your waist like that might somehow help him. but he was already losing it

“Mm fuck, don’t move like that. don’t…” he whispered, his voice was more of a whine, like even saying the words made him throb harder “you feel so good, you don’t even know…”

“Tell me” you said softly, shifting again not out of cruelty, just looking for that perfect nestled angle, but you knew what you were doing, and so did he

he whimpered. his cock twitched inside you like it was begging to cum, his breath catching softly

“you’re all warm. fuck, tight and- shit I can feel everything” he panted, hips twitching once against your ass before he forced himself to hold still again

you reached back, lovingly stroking your fingers over his hip, his thigh, touching him like he was some trembling thing, and he was. he absolutely was

“I love when you stay inside me like this” you whispered, and he moaned “love how soft you get after, how you shake when you’re trying to hold it.”

“please” he hissed through his teeth, trembling all over now. his cock was aching, you could feel it, the base grinding deeper from a single unconscious buck of his hips. he was going to cum, from nothing but you being there, around him.

you clenched around him once, slowly, your pussy tightening around him in a way that made him choke on a moan

“f-fuck, I’m- baby, I’m gonna…”

and he was cumming. buried deep inside, still not thrusting at all. he let out a helpless cry muffled against your shoulder, his cock filling you up with his cum, hips twitching in small helpless motions. he didn't move, he didn’t have to. his whole body was tensing, overwhelmed by how perfect it felt to cum inside you like this

you turned your face just enough to kiss the side of his jaw, and he clung to you, breath ragged, moaning low as he kept cumming

eventually, after some long seconds, he stopped. twitching now and then inside you, his breath warm against your neck

“fuck” he whispered “I didn’t even move.”

“You never do” you teased, kissing his wrist where it lay across your chest, holding you. “And you never last.”

“Don’t need to” he murmured back, shifting even closer, cock still nestled inside you, now soaked and softening “You’re too good.”

he pressed one last kiss to the side of your neck and sighed, eyes already closed shut again, so content, so full, so undone by just being with you.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 - 𓊆ྀི 𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི

[ysaefinn]

Pairing: Dilf!Satoru Gojo x gn!reader x Dilf!Suguru geto

In a marriage you pick up each other's slack.

It's a partnership first and foremost, spouses don't have to necessarily operate as a merged unit but it should always be them against the problem.

Suguru is an extraordinary cook, nothing short of an artist with his tools and ingredients. An alchemist with spices and sauces, and a surgeon with knives. Two big calloused hands coming down on the freshly put-together batch of dough, effortlessly kneading away at the mass, shaping it so ~so~ easily into whatever shapes he desires. It's a little odd to think this but there's something...~sensual~ about it, maybe it's the casualness, maybe it's because it almost feels like a subtle reminder of what he can do, that you are yet to see his physical abilities meet their limit. Regardless, the display coupled with the golden rays of the sun, shining on his unwavering gentle smile, reflecting on the silver strands of his contrasting inky locks, giving the illusion of crystals meticulously woven in each strand. Suguru puts angels to shame.

Satoru rests on the other side of the coin. According to the silver-headed man, brute force is the only way around a car engine, you can't possibly get a vehicle to start moving without giving it some maintenance with your fist. Lifting heavy parts and maneuvering them requires a lot of strength and stamina, both are qualities that Satoru has managed to retain throughout the years. Rough fingers easily popping small pieces on and off, inserting rods and poles with a swift push of his hip. The black engine oil that seeps out is quickly nipped in the bud with a rough thumb shoved into the leaking hole. And once the problem is solved he runs his whole hand through his pure white hair and cracks his typical joke of turning into his husband before giggling to himself every time. It's very sloppy and messy the way he goes about things, but as long as it gets him where he needs to be, he won't be changing the way he operates.

It doesn't make Suguru the happiest man in the world watching his husband beat a non-living object somehow to death, he couldn't even entertain the thought of going about things the way his husband does. But that's what Satoru's here for! To take care of the things Suguru would rather not and vice versa, –since the white-haired man doesn't have the patience for marinating chicken or baking food for hours–.

Because in a marriage you pick up each other's slack!

–

"That's my baby.." you finally reach your peak with a drawn-out whine, coating Suguru's entire hand in the process, the man wastes no time licking his finger clean from your slick while running his other large hand up and down your tummy "you're doing so well, sweet thing" he moves his palm around your waist before squeezing at your flesh gently and you shudder in response "making us so proud like always, sweetheart". "Satoru, focus on keeping those pretty wrists together, we're working on being braver and not hiding our face, right?".

Right, this was a lesson.

By the time your vision clears from your orgasm, Satoru has finished wiping off the juices you left on his face from your earlier climax, and he takes the chance to kiss your drowsy self rough and messy catching you completely off guard. He's ripped away from you just as quickly by the hair.

Suguru's hands are more than capable of being cruel and unforgiving when it comes to you.

"Be gentle" Suguru scolds, an icy cold tone –almost unrecognizable– "they're still sensitive" and he's back to cooing sweetly again, Suguru is only ever this mean because he knows his husband can handle the heat.

The silver-haired man falls back with a grumble "Ugh, you never let me do anything" he whines childishly, earning a playful raised brow from his husband. "That's only because you don't know how to be gentle" Suguru counters "You brute.." A warm heavy hand rests on your head before petting you like a well-loved kitten, as if the smallest of sudden movements can hurt or distress you. "You have to be gentle with them. They can't handle how rough you get at times, Satoru".

Oh he doesn't have the slightest idea.

You can definitely without a single shadow of a doubt handle Satoru when he gets his hands on you. Unlike his husband, Satoru listens to your requests of a rougher pace loud and clear and gives you exactly what you wish for –something Suguru has never approved of. But on the other hand, he is much softer and more intimate with you when his head is between your thighs. Suguru however, would rather watch you squirm and whine and cry from that same angle. Now that is what you can't handle.

And it makes sense because in a marriage you pick up each other's slack!

"Can't handle how rough I get?" Satoru scoffs before looking back at you and lovingly rubbing your thighs "Seems Sugu doesn't know the first fuckin' thing about what you can and can't handle sweethe–A-ah!" Suguru interrupts his husband's sass by yanking him by the hair again and pulling him in for a kiss. All teeth all saliva.

Satoru pulls away to catch his breath, lips bitten and swollen crack into a smug grin. "Daaww you mad? Jealous that you know you hold yourself back? What kind of boyfriend are you Sugu~?"

It's really all in good fun –it would be at least, if this didn't question his dedication to caring for you to a degree– but his jaw still clenches and his eyes narrow as if challenging the man. He is undoubtedly bothered, yet still chooses the high road to ensure you continue to be in the spotlight. Classic.

The long-haired man releases his grip and moves over to scoop you up in his arms, he slides his hands from your waist down to your thighs before spreading your legs wide open for his husband. You jolt back and sink more into his plush chest, clearly still overstimulated from the previous peaks they forced you to reach. Suguru coos before kissing your cheeks sweetly and whispering something about not being shy or trying to hide from them.

"Use your mouth for something useful for once" he gestures to your aching core "come on, don't keep them waiting".

And Satoru gets into position without another word– for now–, moving forward and placing your legs over his shoulders, he pecks your left inner thigh before looking straight at you, –Azure flames shocking your senses, a strange cold sensation washes over you– sending shivers down your spine. It doesn't pass unnoticed, your men exchange fond looks.

It's like your little reactions are bonding moments for them.

But as long as Satoru's in the room, it wouldn't last.

"See? Very responsive. There's clearly a favorite~" Satoru purrs, and his husband rolls his eyes "Giving good head doesn't make you a better lover, Satoru" he scoffs, but still refuses to derail "But keeping our baby needy certainly makes you a terrible one, doesn't it sweetie?" Again, a noticeable softness in his tone when he turns to address you. "Now come on, get on with it"

"I want you to admit it first"

Suguru sighs "...you are good with your mouth".

"Just picking up your slack. That's marriage after all!"

[cherienymphe]

Worth It

Topper Thornton x Reader

Summary: After finally finding the strength to end your toxic relationship, Rafe thinks he can win you back, no idea that you've been sleeping with his best friend.

warnings: Non-Con, mentions of cheating, toxic relationship, semi-public sex, jealousy, secret relationship, mentions of side of Rafe x reader, kook!reader, non canon ages, p*rn with a plot

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies 

➥ Can this be read as a one shot? Yes! Can this be read as a follow up to Escapism? Also yes!

⭑

You hated the way tears spilled over as Topper forced you to stare into his eyes. You blamed it on the alcohol in your system—your inability to fully control your emotions, right now. The living room was only lit from the glow of the TV, a movie playing that all three of you had long stopped watching, but you could see the blond—and the determination on his face—perfectly.

“Topper,” you quietly gasped, pushing your arm against his neck. “Stop. Rafe-.”

Your words were cut off in your throat with one particularly hard thrust from him, his hips smacking against yours as he fucked you on the floor of Rafe’s living room. The other blond was in the shower, slightly tipsy himself and none the wiser to what was happening downstairs. Topper snapping and taking matters into his own hands wasn’t surprising. Knowing how he could sometimes get about you, you’d expected it at some point…

Just not here and now.

After a tumultuous eight months with Rafe Cameron, you finally found the strength and resolve to break up with him and keep it that way. He was an okay friend, but he’d turned out to be an even worse boyfriend. The constant lies and disrespect and betrayal had finally gotten to you and pushed you to do something about it that didn’t just involve fucking his best friend.

No one was happier than Topper when a month went by and you still hadn’t given in to Rafe’s half assed apologies and pleas. 

It was when it finally started to sink in for everyone that you were serious this time. Rafe wasn’t going to win you back this time, and especially not with the sorry excuses of apologies he always gave. You could see it in his eyes every time you were around each other—the barely contained anger and disbelief and most of all the aggravation that he couldn’t do anything about it.

To the public, you were a single woman.

It was a different story behind closed doors.

Topper never had a problem crawling into your bed every time Rafe hurt you, so he especially had no qualms about it now that you and the toxic blond had broken up for good. He could touch you and kiss you and fuck you without abandon. You no longer had to worry about the sound of Rafe’s knocks interrupting you or being quiet when he was asleep just down the hall or refusing sex with him because you were still sensitive from the feel of Topper’s cock only an hour before.

You and Topper were in heaven…

Until Rafe decided that he wanted to actually put in the work with earning your forgiveness.

“I treated you like shit,” he’d said to you one day, shocking you. “I always have and I know that and…you were right to leave me. You should’ve left me after the first time I cheated.”

There’d been a time when you would’ve killed to hear those words coming from Rafe’s mouth. Now though, now you didn’t care. Even though he didn’t know it, you’d gotten back at him in the best way possible, and it was only made better because that’d never been your intent. You hadn’t wanted to ‘get back’ at Rafe that night Topper told you about the other blond and some girl. You’d just been heartbroken…and craving the touch of another.

“Well…thank you for saying that,” you’d responded.

It was sincere. Even though you were at a place where you didn’t need to hear those words anymore, they were still nice to hear all the same. Rafe had nodded as he gazed at you, both of you in your own world away from the rest of the party.

“We’re over, and I get that now, but…we were friends once.”

You’d looked down at that, gathering where he was going with this and wondering how you and he could ever be friends again after all he’d done to you…and even you to him. He’d been your friend once but that hadn’t stopped him from cheating on you and embarrassing you and just overall treating you like shit. You were friends once but that hadn’t stopped you from sneaking around with his best friend once you found yourself at your breaking point with Rafe’s behavior.

“Look, I miss us being around each other and actually talking, you know. And I know I don’t have anyone to blame but myself, but I miss it…” your gaze met his. “I do, and I’m serious about showing you how sorry I am this time.”

You thought it was…nice.

Topper disagreed.

“We both know Rafe,” he spat at you that same night. “You know better than this. The normal routine isn’t working, so now he’s trying something different, and if you think Rafe has any interest in being your friend, I swear to God, Y/N, I will lose any respect-.”

“I am not some stupid bimbo! You don’t think I’ve considered that?” you threw your hands up. “...but I don’t see you cutting him off as a friend anytime soon, so unfortunately I still have to be around and interact with the man who broke my heart. That’ll be a lot easier now that he’s not trying to kill me with his mind every time we’re in the same room.”

Topper hadn’t had a response for that because it was true. Despite how awfully Rafe had treated you, he was still part of your normal circle—the two of you having way too many people in common—and it was something that bothered you but the alternative was isolating yourself from the people you cared about, and that just wasn’t fair to you.

It was obvious then that Topper wasn’t happy with the turn of events, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He was forced to sit back and watch as Rafe played nice with you and talked to you like nothing had happened and even flirt with you in that way he used to back before you dated. He hated it, and it was obvious long before tonight, but with alcohol flowing and trips down memory lane, Rafe got too comfortable.

…and right there in front of Topper, the other blond had thrown his arm around you before pressing his lips to your cheek.

It was only with your quick thinking that the kiss landed on your cheek instead of your lips, and picking up on the change in atmosphere, Rafe had pulled away.

“Shit,” he’d mumbled with a chuckle, running his hand through his hair. “I think I need to sober up a little bit.”

Neither you or Topper paid him much attention as he talked about needing a shower, completely oblivious to what he’d just done. You and the remaining blond merely stared at one another as Rafe made his way upstairs—his family out for the night—and it was only when you heard the bathroom door shut that Topper pounced. A hushed argument turned into something more, Topper’s anger only getting worse by the second, and you couldn’t hold in your pained gasp when his hand twisted into your hair.

Topper’s lips were on you, and his other hand was pushing at the skirt you’d put on this morning. He was a man with tunnel vision, completely uncaring about your ex—his best friend—just upstairs in the shower. No amount of times mentioning that seemed to matter, and despite the fact that you were not in the mood to have sex with Rafe so close by, Topper had reached his breaking point.

His fingers had started to curl inside of you before you knew it, one hand hanging onto him to keep from falling and the other pulling on his wrist as a means to get him to stop. Despite your slight inebriation, your feet had firmly planted on the floor to prevent Topper from pushing you down because you knew that it was over the moment he managed to get you onto your back.

With every push of his fingers into your walls, you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter, his movements becoming smoother as his fingers and hand became slick with your juices. His teeth scraped at your neck, causing a shudder to travel up your spine, and you felt his thumb join his other fingers, circling around and over your clit. The way he massaged that bundle of nerves had you faltering, and Topper saw the opportunity and took it.

It was how you found yourself on your back, literally pushing at him and pleading with him to stop.

“I don’t care,” was his only response when you mentioned Rafe the first time.

You did though, and for the first time, you found yourself genuinely resisting him and trying to get him off of you. Your skirt was hiked up around your waist—the shirt you were wearing ripped open—and Topper had long pulled at your underwear and twisted them and stretched them to give him access to push his hard cock into you. You’d almost been unable to swallow down the choked gasp that threatened to escape your throat.

He was slow in fucking you at first, distracted by the way the length of him repeatedly disappeared inside of you. He always loved that, watching your cunt greedily taking him, watching the way you dripped around him and made a mess on the pink shaft. Every protest mumbled from your lips went ignored, and it was only because you could still hear the sound of Rafe in the shower that you didn’t panic.

However, mentioning Rafe again had the man on top of you changing his pace. His thrusts grew in temp, pushing himself into you and pulling out quicker and quicker. Topper had long discarded his shirt, his shorts pulled down to his ankle as he curved his hips against yours.

“Fuck,” he cursed, grinding himself against you. “Stop talking about Rafe, just stop.”

Your forearm was pressed to his neck, tears in your eyes as you attempted to get through to him.

“He’s right upstairs,” you angrily whispered, voice panicked. “Are you crazy? Get off of me!”

It came out louder than you intended, but you’d have a much easier time explaining to Rafe what a possible noise was than what he’d see if he came down the stairs at any moment. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the thought turned Topper on, his blue eyes glinting in a way you’d never seen as he continued to plunge his cock into you. Every time he pulled his hips back until only the tip of him remained just inside of your folds, you could hear the wet sound it made. When he thrust back into you, the squelch reached your ears, and you were too terrified to linger on how that normally turned you on.

You could only think about Rafe hearing the same thing and going on a rampage.

When Topper pulled back, you foolishly thought he decided to listen to you, but instead he only rested on his knees, his hands grabbing your thighs and yanking you closer. The moan you let out was loud and breathy, the action having caused you to feel the tip of him deep into your gut, Your legs rested over his own thighs, and Topper’s fingers dug into your hips as he jerked himself into you over and over.

Your chest was heaving, and you didn’t miss the way his hooded eyes traced over you, taking it in. Your toes curled with every push of his hips, and faintly, you could hear the distant sound of water running. A blue glow was casted over Topper’s tan skin, evidence of how much time he’d been spending in the sun. under any other circumstance, you’d reach out to run your hands over him.

Not tonight.

“Topper, please,” you breathlessly sighed.

It almost sounded like you were begging him for more, but as it were, you were begging him to stop being an asshole and get off of you. Your gaze trailed over his face and the intensity you saw there. His lips were parted, and his tongue rested just on his teeth as he looked down at you and enjoying the sight of you taking his cock. Your eyes traveled down his chest, taking note of the sweaty sheen it held.

Your gaze eventually stopped.

You watched the way his cock slid in and out of you, almost transfixed by the sight. He stretched you out so good, always had, and it was hard to ignore the way your body buzzed and your heart fluttered and your stomach tightened. You were torn between wanting to give in and adopt his ‘fuck Rafe’ mindset and trying your hardest to push him off of you.

You and Rafe weren’t together anymore, but him catching the two of you would open a whole can of worms that would ruin the dynamic between you three far worse than anything Rafe had done. Rafe had done you dirty so many times, and it didn’t matter that you’d only cheated on him with one guy. It was the right guy—the only guy that would turn his world upside down in the capacity that he’d turned yours. You didn’t want to experience the fallout of that.

More tears spilled over.

“You look so pretty like this, you know that?” Topper wondered, shifting and leaning over you as his hand circled your neck. “Panicked and teary-eyed and absolutely squirming on my cock.”

“Topper, I am begging you,” you tearfully pleaded, grabbing his hand and using your other to push at his chest. “Rafe…”

“You know what? I want him to see, and I’m tired of pretending like I don’t.”

Your eyes widened at that.

“It’d be more than what he deserves.”

The animosity and venom in his tone shocked you, and you didn't react to him brushing your tears away with his thumb. His nose brushed against yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he started fucking you harder, putting way more vigor into each thrust.

“He’s done nothing but treat you like shit…and he thinks he still can,” the blond quietly said, and you heard the sound of the shower turning off upstairs. “I want him to see me fucking the shit out of you.”

He reached down, gently pinching your clit and taking pleasure in the way you moaned.

“I want him to see me stretching you out and burying my cock into this pussy that only gets wet for me…”

Your eyes rolled at his words, and you almost forgot why you wanted him off of you so much.

“I want him to see me come inside of you,” Topper moaned, burning his face into the crook of your neck. “I want him to know that I’m spilling into you and you’re greedily milking me for every drop. I’ll happily tell him all the times I’ve done it.”

You shuddered at that, your nails digging into his arm.

“All the times I sent you right back to him with my cum between your thighs.”

“Fuck, Topper.”

You didn’t know if you were saying that in a good way or bad way. You didn’t know why, but you had never realized just how much animosity Topper held for Rafe. You supposed that he’d have to have a healthy dose to repeatedly fuck his girlfriend, but you’d always thought that had more to do with Topper’s feelings about you and recognizing that Rafe simply wasn’t good enough for you.

However, considering that the three of you were once the best of friends, it made sense that Topper would grow to hate Rafe more and more every time he witnessed him putting you through hell.

“I’m going to fill you up and I don’t care who sees.”

His words were doing a good job of convincing you, and you felt yourself caring less and less too the longer Topper fucked you towards your high. You felt your own hips lifting in time with his to meet his thrusts, getting to a point where he held himself still while you fucked yourself onto his cock.

Rafe had hurt you so much, and yes while his actions of tonight were probably driven by alcohol, he clearly thought he’d get the opportunity to hurt you again. He clearly thought you’d give in, and you two would be right back where you were three months ago. Not only did that make you angry, but it hurt. Choosing to try and be friends again was way more than he deserved, and once again, he was attempting to take advantage of your kindness.

For the first time ever, you wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt you.

Really hurt him.

…and when you found yourself on top of Topper, you didn’t care. He was lifting his hips up into you, one hand on your breast and the other on your hip to help guide you up and down his length. The tip of his cock was hitting something inside of you that had you gasping for breath. You couldn’t stop the breathless gasps and softs mewls that left your lips, eyes half closed as you fucked Topper in Rafe’s own house. You were making a mess on his skin, but you didn’t care.

You didn’t care that you were dripping around him, the inside of your thighs sticky from your juices. You didn’t care that your bra was askew as Topper pinched a hardened bud between his fingers. You only cared about pressing the palms of your hands against his chest to ground yourself and make it easier to bounce on top of him. You only cared about chasing your climax, feeling it come closer with every stroke inside of you, and when you tightened around him—Topper spilling into your eager cunt with a groan—you didn’t care when you looked up and fixed your gaze towards the stairs, locking eyes with his best friend.