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usedpidemo · 1 month ago

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Taste (Newjeans/Njz Minji & Danielle)

9k words

—————

No matter how you look at it, one thing is for certain: you’re absolutely screwed.

Aside from having two uninvited guests at your front door this late in the evening, those very same people are, in the company’s words, marked persona non grata. They’re everywhere. They’re a byword. They’re beyond saving. It’s a public relations nightmare for anyone caught in their crossfire. At least that’s what the agency wants you to believe.

All the less reason to trust their intuition when they’re this damn pretty. It’s a convincing guise. Furthermore, you have common ground to stand on: that this is merely a job, that you’re only there for the pay, and nothing else.

So now:

“How’d you end up getting my address?” you ask the girls, knowing full well you never interact with your coworkers, let alone the idols in the building.

“We—” Danielle rolls her eyes in the direction of her partner, Minji, prolonging the word. Smiling, playful, searching for a compelling reason in real time—and failing. “We have our ways.”

Suspicious. This whole situation raises many red flags. But one look at both of them. Drop dead gorgeous. You wouldn’t be surprised if they came here straight after one of their photoshoots, and their makeup gives off a strong indication. If not for your job, you’d let them in, no questions asked. But you’re a bit numb to it—just a little—if not for the fact that you see them at work everyday.

“Can we please come in?” Minji implores you, sounding innocent in contrast to the flirty Danielle. You hardly need any further convincing.

“Sure.”

Without a second thought, you let them walk through the door, and it’s only after they’re inside that you realize: you’re making a huge mistake.

But in the heat of the moment, you reason to yourself that it's a rare occasion; it’s not often you hang out with fellow coworkers after hours, and you’re really stretching that coworker label. Finding excuses to let them in your place.

Minji and Danielle take their seats on the living room couch without even asking, but you allow them. Meanwhile, you’re rushing to the fridge, trying to make do with your leftovers of takeout and canned food you have lying around.

“Don’t worry about us. We’re not hungry,” Minji shouts from the living room, but her plea goes through deaf ears.

“Yeah, we don’t really eat much,” Danielle adds, but it hardly changes anything.

Even from the kitchen, you can hear them mumble in the background, mostly incomprehensible to your ears, even while you’re preoccupied with heating the food in the microwave. Taking a few glances from a distance every now and then, still pretty from afar. Thankfully, they’re busy with each other to catch you snooping. You never expected this. These same idols that appear untouchable and have their own private rooms in the building, that never really take a second glance at everyone else—casually hanging out at your place.

To keep your mind from spinning further away from the consequences, you let the food out as soon the microwave’s timer hits zero. You’re hoping this is a quick and casual visit, but based on what you know so far, with the company’s situation in mind, you sense that they’re here for a specific purpose—and it’s certainly not to make friends.

As you offer the reheated food before them, Minji smiles at you, raising her hand. “We already ate,” she says, smiling respectfully, “But thank you.”

You set it down on the table regardless, knowing they won’t take a bite anyway. It’s the thought that counts.

Taking the couch opposite them, a brief silence fills the room, the tension gradually brewing as neither party is willing to break the silence. Until—

“So,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs, feeling a lump in your throat, unable to follow through, but you muster up the resolve to speak: “What are you here for?”

The two girls pause, ruminate on their response, on their intent, trying to find a way to sound convincing. You see the pair exchanging brief glances at each other, with Danielle looking more anxious and deferring to Minji to be their mouthpiece. As much as you want to threaten them, you can’t—not when they look like that. A perfect blend of gorgeous and innocent.

So you’ll let them be. Give them all the time in the world if needed. You’re not their corporate overlord, after all. If anything, you’re in the same position as them somewhat, a slave to the system on the outside looking in.

Eventually, Minji opens her mouth. Swallows her throat, pulls on the collar of her shirt. Talking slowly, ensuring every word is emphasized, she says, “I know this might be hard for you to do, since it’s your job and all, but—”

She suddenly second guesses herself, her gaze heading in the direction of the table, unable to face you. Danielle’s been looking at her, and you can tell the exact moment her confidence drops through her body language.

“But?” you say, tone low, in an effort to keep them at ease. Probably not the best sounding or worded, but it’s already done. You already know what she means—hell, you had a slight clue that they wouldn’t be here without cause—but you just need them to say it outright.

“We need sensitive information from HYBE’s documents to get us further in the public’s good graces,” Minji forces herself to speak, trembling, “You know about our situation right? You know how much that company hates us—how they want us to take it, and then they’ll shelf us.”

“Yeah. I mean—you’re no different than us, right?” Danielle tries to empathize, finally turning her eyes on you, twinkling, pretty, “You probably hate this company, too.”

And to be fair, Danielle’s right: you hate HYBE with a burning passion, even when you’re in charge of cleaning all their dirty work. But the NewJeans predicament has turned that hatred up to eleven. There are even days where your overtime extends till the dawn trying to save this company’s ass from themselves and from public scrutiny. It’s a thankless job. You’re fed up, and the only thing keeping you from leaving is how the market everywhere else sucks.

So you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. Help them at the expense of your job, career and future, or refuse, and possibly get caught in the fire when they continue their tirade against the company. Worst case scenario, they win, and HYBE goes under, and you’re left with nothing. Essentially, you’re delaying the inevitable.

Either way, you’re screwed.

And then, you bring up an overlooked point:

“But this is my livelihood,” you tell them, blunt, direct to the point. As much as you’re willing to take that risk, you are also aware of the consequences, and everything else at stake. At the end of the day, you’re still an average joe living off the bare minimum to survive, but Minji and Danielle are millionaires with brand deals, hit songs, and coming from wealthy backgrounds. Most idols in the industry are like that. Their reputation may take a hit, but not their wallets—something you simply can’t endure. “You will be fine regardless, but what’s in it for me? I get nothing from helping you guys.”

Your response leaves them dead silent. You can sense the realization falling on their faces, and the air of defeat in their body language. Unable to look you in the eyes, the two women sit on the couch, every breath deep. Even from across the table, you can feel the weight put on their shoulders. The despair.

If this is their way to draw sympathy, it’s working to an extent. You do feel bad for them. But you’re looking out for yourself, first and foremost.

“We know how that feels, and we’re sorry for asking a lot from you,” Danielle finally speaks, breaking their silence, before pouring herself a glass of water and taking a sip. “But you have to understand, we also need work too. They won’t let us. So we need not only the public’s favor, but also incriminating evidence of workplace malice to force their hand.”

It’s not a convincing enough argument.

“Think of it,” adds Danielle, leaning forward, “You’re not only gonna help us, but also anyone in the future who ends up in this situation too. We can fight against the system.”

And you’re certainly not the hero type.

“Dani, I’m sorry, but I can’t help.” you say, rising from the couch and picking up the food. As you walk back to the kitchen, you add, “My job is far too important to let go that easily. If there’s any other way, I can offer my help, but not at the risk of my livelihood.”

“I know, I know, but we really really need it,” Danielle continues to implore you, persistent and unwilling to accept any other answer than a ‘yes.’ Minji sits beside her, quiet, deep in thought. You’d assume that being the eldest, she’d put a stop to her member’s antics, but no. She’s convinced that there’s no finality in your answer, that you can change your mind with enough begging and pleading. “Please. You help us this one time, we never ask for anything from you ever again.”

She goes on to list a few of the incentives they’ll give, ranging from signed albums and merchandise to free concert tickets which you have no interest in. Add in a positive word to her mentor, but you know damn well that even without this mess, she’s not to be trusted with. You’re struggling, yes, but not desperate.

“Maybe for a few million, I could do it,” you joke, knowing it’s too much, even for them. It’s the greed they mention and condemn in the Bible. Obviously, they don’t react positively to your counter offer.

“Please. Reduce that to a hundred thousand, and maybe we’ll consider it,” Dani remarks, huge emphasis on maybe, and it elicits a light chuckle out of you.

“Like I said, it’s gonna take a lot for me to risk my job. I also understand you’re also trying to work freely, and I hope you can win your case, but I can’t freely give up my only source of income like that.”

“Right, right.”

You can tell they don’t want to be told the same thing over and over. But here they are, repeatedly begging as if they didn’t hear a single thing you said. What else did they expect?

Danielle then looks to her partner, hoping to get something out of her after exerting this much effort to no avail. And then:

“Hey Minji,” she calls to her, before curling her hand in front of her lips, whispering into her ear. By the way her brows rise, a fresh idea has struck her head like lightning. Minji looks at her, not buying it, but as she rattles on, you see her turn more and more convinced at the notion.

Perhaps it’s the fatigue beginning to settle in, but you seemingly catch a quirk and a subtle grin on both women’s lips.

What they’re up to—it’s no good.

“We’re asking: please help us,” Minji appeals to you one more time. “A few hundred thousand you want, right? We’ll each give you a couple so it adds up to a million. All five of us. So you can help your family out and you have bail in case you ever get caught and arrested.”

“Thoughtful offer, but I’ve made up my mind a long time ago,” you tell her, having convinced yourself the deal has fallen through. “It’s getting late,” you say, turning your gaze to the wall clock, approaching midnight. “It’s been nice having you, but I’ll see you guys at work tomorrow and then we can talk about it.”

As you’re about to show them the door, Danielle calls to you, drawing back your attention. “Wait.”

You face them to see Minji taking off her denim jacket, leaving only her cropped shirt and pants, giving you a clearer view at her toned belly. Danielle’s not far off too, wearing a similar fit as Minji, all the way down to the blue jeans, the key difference being her tight, body fitting shirt, emphasizing her chest.

Yeah, they clearly went here fresh off a photoshoot, makeup and all.

“What are you doing?” you ask as Minji tosses her jacket onto the couch.

“We seriously need your help, and we’ll do whatever it takes to get you to help us,” is Danielle’s reply, sultry with a hint of venom laced somewhere. The two women step forward, positioning themselves into a makeshift trap. Of course you’re frozen in place, unable to move as they corner you, seize you with their hands, their gaze traveling up and down your figure. “Don’t you think we look pretty?”

The twosome stroke everywhere—at your hair, at your skin, at your clothes, poking into your most carnal desires. It’s one thing to see beautiful girls like them at your workplace on a daily basis, but up close and like this—their beauty hits harder. Their hands reach down to your pants, squeezing on your balls, forcing a deep grunt from your lips.

“Jesus, fuck—” you moan, tilting your head up, the sensation overwhelming. “Not like this. I can’t.”

Yanking down your pajamas, Minji and Danielle take turns stroking your cock through your boxers. Back and forth, with their hand around wrapping the tent forming in your bulge, both women shooting a passionate gaze through your soul.

Your fight is completely nonexistent.

“Good enough to convince you now?” Danielle says, her breath hot against your skin.

You regain enough lucidity to glare back through the pressure, rasping, “I still need the money though.”

“Of course.”

Suddenly, the two girls release their grip on you, promptly taking a step back, leaving you gasping for air.

“Only after you give us what we want,” Minji demands, crossing her arms, shooting you a confident smirk.

“And what makes you think I’ll do that?” you reply, unconvinced that they will fulfill their end of this bargain.

Minji eyes you, as if expecting that very response, and wiggles her hips like she’s on stage, slowly pulling off her jeans, teasing the slightest hint of underwear before stopping.

“Nice try, but I need your word,” you remark, tilting your head, playfully pouting your lips. “I need to know that you’re not pulling on my leg. That you’ll give everything you promise.”

“Such as?” Danielle asks.

“Your pussy. And the money. I better check my account and see a million there tomorrow.”

“Don’t we look trustworthy enough?” she remarks, feeling slighted at your lack of faith.

“Maybe. For all I know, you just want to run up your pockets with the company’s money,” you tell them, shrugging your shoulders. “And who knows what else that devil is telling you. You seriously don’t need her to be successful. Anyone ever told you that?”

“I’d tell you that you’re out here asking for money like a broke bitch, but hey—since we need your help, I’ll let that slide,” Danielle replies, her grin shifting to more of a scowl. “But because you asked, here.”

She whips out her phone and taps rapidly on the screen before showing you. A transfer of $200,000 from her bank account to yours.

“Trustworthy enough?”

You merely nod in agreement. You’re getting somewhere.

Grinning, she approaches you, her eyes wide open, demanding once more, “Now give us the data.”

Not flinching, you quickly retaliate. “You’re still missing one thing.”

“Only after you give us the data.”

“Only after you give me the honor of fucking you both.”

“Please stop.” Minji steps between you two, her glare pointed at Danielle, taking the role of mediator. “We’ll send the rest tomorrow, so don’t worry. And we know you’ll give us the data after.”

“At least someone gets it,” you remark, smug. This is all new to you.

“Don’t act like we wanted this.” Now it’s Minji’s turn to act condescending, redirecting her gaze in your direction. “You know very well this wasn’t our first plan—or second–or third.”

“I know.” Your hands are already pushing down on your pajamas, leaving only your boxers and the evident bulge behind it, suffocating, desperate to be freed.

—————

“Show us your bedroom,” is their command, straight and to the point. A request you’ll never decline, not in any universe. By the time you lead the two girls there, all their clothes are on the floor, making a trail of their tracks. They don’t give you the opportunity to watch them undress, and to be fair, it’s completely all on you—so focused on the future, that you never look at what’s right ahead.

Nevertheless, even under a dimly lit room, you mark their svelte figures, their fine, tangible curves. Divinely made, as if they were created by the gods themselves.

“God,” you comment, eyes wide, in awe of their bodies, your mouth watering, starstruck. Any compliment, no matter how small, serves to stroke their ego. It’s all over their lips—their taunting, playful smirks. Minji’s sweet bearing can’t hide that. The need for praise and attention never grows repetitive. Like they were born for it.

“If you’re gonna stare there and just watch,” teases Danielle, as both girls walk past you and toward the bed, continuing to goad you. “We wouldn’t mind that.”

Your brain hard resets itself, and you eventually catch on. Turning around, Minji and Danielle are standing on opposite ends of your bed, examining, testing to see if it can shoulder the weight of you three together. At least that’s what you think.

“So—not even gonna finish the job, huh?” you say, referring to your boxers and the way they handled your balls a while back.

“Wasn’t part of the agreement,” is her reply, direct, laughing. “Could have said: ‘I want your pussy, your mouth, and the money,’ but it seems like you need the money more than anything.”

And God damn it, they got you. Again.

“But since I’m in a giving mood today,” Danielle continues, sauntering toward you, slow, seductive, flattering, until her breath is hot against your skin once more. You feel it again: the measure of her hand on your balls, the grip of her fingers piercing through the thin fabric, tight and suffocating. Turning her gaze to Minji, gesturing with her eyes to follow.

The sensation renders you helpless, but that’s only Danielle. Add in Minji’s fingers, the tug of those damned briefs down your legs, leaving you at your barest—and sure enough, you’re drowning. So hot to the touch, so overwhelming to the senses, like you’re breathing in nothing but nitrogen. Tilting your head up, moaning like that’s the only thing you can do—and that’s exactly it: you can only voice out your pleasure through this madness.

“Feels good, right? Never had girls do this to you before?” Danielle never lets up, continues her assault on your senses and your life like it’s a form of personal revenge. You’re too preoccupied with their touch to catch their satisfied expressions, only in brief, flashing blurs. You don’t even acknowledge how they’ve added a few kisses here and there on your collarbones and shoulders, all while taking turns to fondle your balls and stroke your cock.

As if you weren’t already in the gutter, it gets worse.

Dropping to their knees, their lips kiss the tip of your cock, and Christ. It demands your entire resolve not to come undone right then and there. You’re biting on your lower lip, sighing deeply and holding your breath, doing everything in your power to not buckle underneath all the pressure building and building. All it takes is a little spark to create fire. There’s no stopping it; you can only hope to contain it for as long as humanly possible.

And that’s just the initial contact.

A brief glance at what’s beneath and behold: it’s imagery straight out of your deepest fantasies. There’s no other way to spin it; it’s pornographic. Minji and Danielle down on their knees, taking opposite ends before your cock, their fingers wrapped around your base and on your balls, with your hands gripped on their scalp, on their long, dark locks. Soft hums and little kiss sounds coming from below fill the room and satisfy your ears. The control is nonexistent; in reality, it’s them who are having their way with you, setting pace, constantly putting you on the backfoot with little resistance on your end.

And to be quite honest, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

They know what makes you tick. What gets you to fold. What pushes you to give out.

Bobbing their heads back and forth, kissing up your length, slowly but surely covering your cock in their spit, determined to make you crumble. Demanding your attention, demanding your all. They have you exactly where they want.

“Yes, God, fuck yes—fuck—so fucking good—” you sputter, hanging your jaw wide, your vision dulling, utterly in awe at how natural they both are at giving head. Like this is far from their first go-around, like this is routine. It helps that their lips are shaped in a manner meant to fit cock.

Like they’re meant for you.

Their breath lingers on your skin, sends shivers down your spine. A hint of satisfaction at hearing you moan and give them their due praise.

Slurping deliciously on your shaft, Danielle pushes herself ahead of Minji, her nose brushing against your groin, taking you deep into her throat. She gags—chokes—on your cock; a little too much too soon. Her partner slowly draws her back, but Danielle slaps her hand away, refusing to quit like it’s a vice, like she can’t live without it.

Sucking, licking, tasting every inch of your cock, leaving you short of breath.

It was never a surprise that Danielle was the needy one. Even before tonight, she looked natural for the part.

Eventually, she does concede and pulls out regretfully, equally as overwhelmed as you are. Spit fills the sides of her lips, dashed with your precum. Minji looks at her with disgust; this wasn’t part of the plan.

The mischievous girl she is, Danielle taunts her with a wordless gesture before giving way, implying that she’s better at giving head, inciting a little competition.

Shaking her head as she inches toward your cock, Minji takes some time to apologize: “Sorry about Dani. She can be—a little too much. Even for us.”

To say Danielle is a little too much would be underselling it—she’s the devil incarnate.

But back to the matter at hand. Minji is much more gentle at taking you in. Still that’s a hilariously low bar, because she, too, can’t help but shove your cock deep in her throat after a little taste.

And your perception of Minji gets flipped on its head. She grabs your thighs like she were to fall if she lets go. You can see the effort; her suction is stronger, her cheeks are hollowing out, and the determination on her brows. She’s taken Danielle’s challenge personally. At this point, the original goal has been completely lost in the shuffle.

Minji meets your eyes while your cock is comfortably lodged deep down her throat. Humming a saccharine melody, mouthing incomprehensible jargon, seeking your approval.

By the glint in her eyes—she won’t take no for an answer.

All you can do is endure, hold on a few minutes longer, perhaps more—mind, body, and spirit willing. You’re dangerously close to falling apart. Her mouth is an inescapable prison; torturing your senses with unbelievable amounts of ecstasy. You can only wonder how you’re still standing after this much pleasure in the form of sensory punishment.

She’s daring you to say the magic words. You can’t take it any longer.

So you yield.

“Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum—” Before the pleasure becomes overwhelming to form coherent speech.

In response, Minji graciously pulls out, but not without inflicting a little more torment. She releases her grip on your cock with a satisfying, neuron activating pop from her now stained lips. Still, you have no time to catch your breath as they’re back onto you as quickly as they retreat, their fingers coiling around your base, stroking you hard and fast over the edge without restraint.

“Cum for us,” you hear their demand, their shaky breaths making your cock throb beyond control. “Cum all over our faces.”

And who wouldn’t?

You’re thrusting wildly at air, having quietly accepted the inevitable. There’s relief in knowing how fucked you are regardless. It makes letting go all the easier.

Body trembling, legs wobbling, stomach churning. Cumming.

Spilling into the void, your eyes completely slammed shut, unable to bear the pleasure any longer.

Minji and Danielle are waiting at the other side. Taking every pulse, streak, rope of your cum with their greedy mouths wide open, tongues sticking out. You’re doing exactly what they want, using their faces as a canvas, making them an outlet for your lust. The gushing sensation burns every fiber in your loins, breaking you down until you’re milked completely dry.

The aftershocks linger long after.

When you regain a semblance of clarity, you’re greeted by a pair of mischievous and triumphant smiles. Minji and Danielle are presenting your own handiwork: their faces completely covered in your cum, dripping down their lips and chin. Tongues swiping their wet lips clean, happily drinking you all up.

The image is permanently seared into your memory. You can never look at them the same way after this.

And they stay there, grinning from ear to ear. On the floor, letting you soak it all in. How you’ve ruined their faces and reputation. How you’ll eventually ruin yours. Behind the friendly facade, they’re no better than anyone else—willing to throw everything on the line for even a slight competitive advantage.

You can’t get over the fact that you’ve committed what’s essentially sacrilege. Never mind their current predicament; this can be its own scandal.

Before you can fully make sense of everything, the pair break their silence. Their eyes linger on yours. One after the other:

“You taste so good.”

It doesn’t sound playful or teasing in any way. It’s a sincere compliment, and that’s what makes your heart flutter.

And then your body gives out. Instinctively falls back onto the edge of the mattress. Laying down comes second nature. It had been a long day, and Minji and Danielle more than left you completely spent. Any other circumstance, it would be easy to call it a night.

But there’s still work left to do, and the girls will make you hear it.

“Hey, you’re not done, are you?” Minji’s already on her feet, hitting your ribs, keeping you from falling unconscious. “You still owe us your end of our deal.”

Looking at her through lidded eyes, your response comes out slurred, as though you came home hammered after five drinks. Only one word is clear: “—Laptop.”

Minji hears you, tells Danielle to search for your laptop before returning her attention. “Where?”

“Living room. At my desk.”

Minji straddles herself on your lap as she gives Danielle the command. You’re preoccupied by the lovely sight hovering atop you to notice the loud yelp that rips throughout the apartment, followed by a choir of apologies from a whiny, low voice. You can only hope that your neighbors don’t knock; you can only deal with two uninvited visitors at this time.

“Sorry. I—I tripped over a loose wire and almost landed on the TV. Oops.” Danielle returns to the bedroom with your laptop in hand, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Lean back,” is Minji’s command, and you effortlessly comply. Even with her ass resting on your lap, she’s as light as a feather, letting you wiggle back onto the headrest with little difficulty.

Danielle joins you two in bed, resting the laptop on your bare chest. Then Minji clambers over to the side opposite her member, lifting the screen. “We did our part. Now do yours.”

You give Minji a tired, thousand-yard stare. As if telling her, ‘Really?’ after what transpired moments ago. She reciprocates the sentiment. No words necessary.

In a few ways, she reminds you of your boss. Only she’s way younger, hotter, and kinder sounding.

With a deep sigh, you fire up the laptop as the members lean over to make sure you follow through. A few clicks here, a password there, entered one letter at a time, and you’re inside the classified data storage like they wanted. Thousands upon thousands of sensitive folders, files, and documents—they have no idea where to start.

“All of them. Send all of those,” Danielle demands, in a rush.

Pausing, you give Dani a frustrated glare, also telling her ‘Really?’ with your raised eyebrows.

“We don’t need all of that, Dani.” Minji’s eyes laser in on a specific file reading Competition. Pointing at it, she says, “Send this one. That one looks interesting.”

Even though you’re responsible for data security, you are as clueless to everything as the idols are. You don’t even have access to the executive floor where all the corporate shit is involved, nor do you have entry to where the idols stay. Your job is to keep data stored and hidden from the public, no questions asked. But you click anyway, following along without hesitation, ignoring the possible consequences.

It’s far too late to renege.

“Can’t believe I’m willingly doing this shit for the devil,” you comment, knowing where this information will eventually end up. It’s akin to selling your soul. You’re starting to regret everything.

Minji has a suggestion. “How about you send it to our emails instead?”

“Still gonna end up with her. I’ll just drop it anonymously on the internet. I don’t care anymore.”

So you log in to your private job forum account on a site where frustrated workers can vent frustrations about their companies. There had been a fair share of ex-employees airing out their grievances against the agency, most of which are buried by obvious bots and snitches.

There’s no burying what’s gonna come out now.

Typing up a simple paragraph, attaching the entire folder full of documents, carrying all sorts of information about who knows what.

With a deep breath, you hit Post, and may God have mercy on your soul.

You close the laptop, but Pandora’s box has been opened.

Now it’s all on them.

The reward is worth the trouble, at least at the moment. Minji and Danielle each plant a peck on your respective cheek for doing the deed. Smiling after the kiss, gently caressing your hair, mumbling: “Thank you. Really.”

You merely shrug, as if you’ve set off a devastating bomb with world-shattering consequences.

Danielle removes the laptop off your chest, setting it aside by your bedside shelf. “So, what now? Which one of us do you wanna take first?”

And perhaps you need it—need the adrenaline of Minji and Danielle getting fucked, ruined to bits. Something to clear your mind from what’s to come.

In the midst of the anxious calm, Danielle finds new ways to break tension. Her stomach rumbles loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. Minji laughs—heartily.

It’s enough to get a light chuckle out of you too. Their charm comes off as natural.

“Scratch that. Minji, you go on ahead,” she quips, before rolling out of bed and limping straight to the kitchen for a bite.

Never mind that she didn’t ask you about what’s available, or that you’ve even allowed her to take from the fridge, or that the food you offered them has gone cold.

“You heard her,” Minji says, pressing her hands on your chest, rolling herself back, your cock inches away from her ass. “Sit back and relax. Don’t have to do anything.”

Slowly but surely, Minji adjusts, demanding your attention stay on her face. Her glow, her beauty is undeniable. It’s in the little things. The light brush of her hair. The tiny scratches she’s leaving on your skin. The small, gentle air kisses. The anticipation gradually builds as you feel your cock hardening once more. Perfectly devised, all done purposefully to keep you on edge.

“Gonna let you in me now,” she murmurs, descending onto your shaft, the pressure of her fingers deepening on your skin, keeping her eyes on you. Your breath hitches, like time has come to a complete standstill, the suspense at its apex, and then—

“Oh fuck!”

The words may be delivered light and airy, but they rip through your ears like thunder. Burying herself to the hilt, Minji crumbles almost instantly, body fidgeting uncontrollably. Her jaw slacks wide, eyes slam shut, her mind overridden with the sensation of your cock deep in her pussy.

On your end, you let out a deep groan, the only feeling registering in your mind being: Wet. Minji’s so goddamn wet.

“So big—so fucking big—” Minji whines, choked up, her fingers pressing deep into your skin like she’s trying to tear you to shreds. Unable to move, it’s evident that she’s still new to this, new to the feeling of your cock.

It’s not intentional, but her face is melding into something pornographic. Such a sweet and pure looking girl, fragile and delicate to the touch, shattering to pieces.

Her pussy is anything but pure.

“Christ—Minji—so fucking—” you mutter, gasping for breath as your hands claim rest on her waist. The last word in your sentence finds itself stuck on the edge of your tongue, but your little resolve lets it fight its way through: “Tight.”

That one word seems to light a fire in Minji’s soul, because she begins to move. Dragging her hips upward, the suffocating pull of your cock unwilling to let go of her cunt, the musical squelch. Your shaft reappears for a moment, covered in her slick, coated in her nectar, before it falls back into its rightful place inside her. She crashes onto you again, and the sensation hits as hard as the first time.

Minji drops her head low. Lets out a grunt. A single thrust and she’s already fighting for dear life. Her features are morphing erratically, all muddled and incapable of remaining still. Her abs tense, that already lean figure shrinking more than physically possible, but she’s not done. Gritting her teeth, your cock sends her head in a tailspin, driving her crazy.

“Have I ever told you how fucking big your cock is?” she asks, like it didn’t register in your brain the first time. Hearing it from her saccharine voice never grows tiresome.

“Nope. Not at all,” you joke, which she spurns with a shake of her head.

“God, it feels so fucking right,” she remarks, and you share the sentiment. Like you’re meant for each other.

Perfectly positioned and angled inside Minji’s cunt, you’re more than happy to sit there and stay in her warmth all night long. Let her figure her way out. Instead, you guide her through, giving her torrid, deep strokes. Hands roam the curves of her svelte figure, admiring her at her most vulnerable. Even when she looks fucked like this, she’s still flawless.

Though her breaths are shaky, Minji gathers her bearings and paces along. Slow and steady, her hips rising and falling onto you like waves, sending ripples through your body below. Everything is falling into place. It’s euphoric. She’s got her head held high; you’re holding her like she’s your grandest prize.

Composed, calm, certain—Minji follows the beat of your drum. It’s finally sinking in. How truly sweet it feels.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Spearing, thrusting into her, your bodies crashing into each other, filling your ears with a chorus of dry, airy moans, backed with the wet sounds of skin against skin. Your breaths hitching, bouncing around the bedroom, spilling out into the rest of the apartment. At this moment, it’s only you and Minji, making the most of what little time you have left.

Minji bounces on you. Tits, ass, her body naturally falling into your grasp. As quickly as she recaptures it, her composure is falling apart. You have a hand on her cheek, squeezing yourself a handful of flesh before giving it a playful slap. She yelps, but she pushes on. Demands you keep going. That you use every inch of her.

“Harder—harder—harder—”

An easy command that’s easier to follow.

You oblige, being given the green light to Minji’s shapely ass. Back and forth, giving each cheek a vicious barrage of spanks till her skin is marked red with your handprints. Her voice goes hoarse with every whine, every mewl, every moan. Asking for more punishment, because she knows she can take it all. Body clenching, her pussy fucked beyond repair.

Gasping, trembling, her pace has spiralled out of control, riding you in fast intervals, giving you no room to breathe.

“Cum for me,” she rasps, hips gyrating quickly, her nails leaving deeper scratches on your flesh, drawing a dash of blood. “Cum in me, please.”

“You first,” is your counter, knowing you have each other’s bodies read like a book. You’re reaching your breaking point a second time. “Cum all over this cock.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” A simple chant, but the most satisfying one to hear. You’ve never heard her this excited, this eager, that her body naturally follows. “God—I’m gonna fucking cum so hard—”

Pushing deep into her, exerting more effort than she’d led you to believe. Your bodies working together to reach that climax. Her wispy moans turning to shouts, cries of overwhelming pleasure, refusing to dash the brakes, willing to run herself into the ground to chase that conceivable high.

It rips through her body. Breaks her clean in half.

Her head rolled back, locked in place. Your hands gripped on her waist once more, keeping her steady. Still delivering punishing strokes as Minji cums over your cock. Burning through your nerves, dragging you down with her.

You repay the favor, joining her in blissful climax moments later. Unloading into her cunt as it pulses, milks you dry again, resting your head on the headrest. Squeezing into her creamy flesh, letting Minji fall into your arms. Like it was destiny, your lips catch hers in a deep, passionate kiss.

You feel her. The aftershocks of her orgasm. Her body giving out this time, her hands clutching into an embrace, her breath against your skin. Still embedded inside her, even as the fire dies down, taking it slow, unwilling to leave the warmth of her core. Leaking onto your sheets, leaving a permanent stain on your bed.

“Minji,” you gently shake, keeping her awake. She laughs into your chest.

Staring at you with glossy, half-lidded eyes, her words reduced to a silent whisper. A fitting tone. “Still have Dani to go,” she reminds, more of a warning than a cause for celebration. Thankfully, she hasn’t reemerged from the kitchen.

“Right.”

“Need any advice on how to handle her?” she asks, like you’re about to tame a wild beast. You can only imagine how wild Danielle is.

Your hand traces circles on her back, fondles vast waves of raven silk. “Every little tip counts.”

“Just—” Minji lifts her head softly, breathing into your neck. “Fuck her like an animal. Make her scream. That’ll shut her up.”

Considering the damage Minji did to you—and she’s the gentler one—Danielle might be on a whole other level.

And speak of the devil: Danielle’s voice fills the room, boisterous and whimsy. In the time when you and Minji were fucking each other’s brains out, she regained the pep in her step—and her attitude.

“You two were fucking like animals,” she remarks, flopping onto the bed, smiling from ear to ear. As if she had overheard everything, and to be fair—you might have caused a ruckus worthy of a noise complaint. “Got me thinking, ‘Damn.’ I should have stayed put. Got me wet imagining what you were doing.”

Not a single mention of what she’s eaten from your fridge or the thought of compensation.

“My turn, girl.” Danielle gestures to her exhausted companion, her patience instantly flipping like a light switch. She gives her only one warning before forcefully pushing her to the side, taking her place on your lap. “What did Minji do, hm? Rode you? Used you like a bar of soap?

She takes a look at the stain between her legs, the sticky puddle around your groin. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.

“Can’t blame her. Always loves to flaunt that ass of hers.”

There’s a tinge of jealousy in Danielle’s tone, uncaring that she can still hear her clearly.

“But since she let you sit back and do nothing, I’m gonna make you work for it now.”

Danielle spins around, presenting her petite ass and soaked, throbbing pussy for you in clear view. She’s on her fours, thrusting, pushing forward, pretending to fuck herself on your cock, causing the bed to shake.

Giving you a preview of how exactly to ruin her.

If you weren’t still completely spent from Minji, your feral impulses would demand that you rush in and lay your hands on her tight figure.

But no—even the simple act of leaning forward proves to be an immense struggle. You’re still reeling, slowly recovering from all the aftershocks. Two vicious orgasms haven’t been kind to your body in any form whatsoever.

Looking over her shoulder, hair falling directly right in her face, Danielle taunts you. “Can’t handle it, babe? Such a damn shame. I was looking forward to having that big cock of yours fill my pussy up.”

Like a corpse rising from the grave, your hand suddenly grabs her ass, catching her completely unprepared. Her mouth drops wide, playful and animated, as if it were part of the act. It’s what Danielle’s best at: pushing your buttons, setting you off, bringing out your worst.

“Did I say something to wake you up, tough guy?” Danielle continues to run her tongue, daring you to stop holding back. A little more and it’s not gonna end well for her. “Is it the fact that you can’t handle this pussy?”

Right then and there, a vicious slap echoes through the room, followed by an equally loud cry. Her cheek turning sore and bright red in an instant.

You and Danielle stare directly into each other’s eyes, caught up in the heat of the moment. Time comes to a complete standstill.

And then, she starts laughing. Uncontrollably.

Shaking her head in disbelief, brimming with delight. “I knew you had it in you.”

Her erratic change in attitude leaves you baffled. Trying to make sense of her right now won’t do you any good, nor is it worth exerting any level of effort. All you can do is watch and expect the unexpected.

“Slow learner, huh?” Danielle says, as if that’s gonna help you understand even a little. “If I hadn’t made it any more obvious, I want you to fuck me. Use me. Run me to the ground. Fuck me till I can’t walk.”

Of course you knew what she meant all along. Minji warned you beforehand. It’s just that you’re a simpler guy. She wants you to wreck her—that’s easier to follow than this roundabout nonsense.

That being said, she’s wiggling her ass before you, your hand spreading her core a tad wider. Her smaller hole and cunt glisten, gleam in the dark full of sheen. “I did you the service of lubing myself while you were busy.”

All the more to keep you from struggling. She may be a loud mouth, but she can be sensible and considerate.

Danielle’s gaze lingers, anticipating your response. There’s a little pressure to follow through and deliver on her wants. Your cock is starting to harden, ready for another round.

But you’re not there just yet.

Instead, you plant your other hand over her scalp, face her away, disgusted by her bratty face while you work. Your lower body has regained enough strength for you to climb behind her, inching close to her ear.

And with four simple words, each and every one delivered with dire importance, Danielle’s world is absolutely rocked.

“My bedroom, my rules.”

Instinctively, Danielle moans. She trembles, straightening her back as you line up your hand to give her a second smack on her sore cheek, filling the room with her cry. Minji joins you from behind, positioned over your ear to guide you through the pleasure and the process, when really, she’s only there to watch you humble her fellow member.

And you don’t give it to Danielle right away; she’s undeserving of the immediate reward.

Diving head first into her slick core, your tongue straightens her cunt, laps up her nectar, making her quiver.

“Ah—oh my fuck—”

Sloppy and straightforward, you slip your tongue into the crevice of her heat, kissing her pretty pussy, leaving Danielle a moaning mess. She’s gushing—mewling—about the discomfort, the pain, the pleasure you’re imposing on her, leaving her wanting more.

Minji calls it while you’re buried in her member’s cunt, flexing and pulsing against your tongue. Draining every little drop you can from her throbbing core. Danielle can only brace for comfort, if there’s even any, gripped to the sheets, in dire need for cock, fiending like it were a vice.

You continue to bring the pressure. Your hands coiling around her thighs, spreading them ever so wide, addicted to the taste of slick, filling your dry mouth like it were water in the desert. She’s panting, desperately seeking oxygen, losing her mind, her vision. She can only pray that the teasing will end.

Unfortunately for her, you’re not a merciful god.

Without care or concern, you stick your tongue deep into her cunt, mark her pussy like she’s yours, suck up all the cum you can take without remorse or consequence. It fucks up Danielle like crazy. A second or two longer and she would have shattered into a million pieces. If she crashes and burns before you give her what she wants, then so be it.

Once you’ve had your share of her slick, you pull back—but not without giving yourself one more sampling. The music Danielle makes from her lips is something else. A mix of moans and obscenities in every tone imaginable.

You have to remind yourself that your tongue isn’t the end goal; your load is. Yet you can’t help but slide a finger to grab another helping. This is the greed they condemn in the Bible.

Offering your soiled digit to Minji, she politely declines with a shake of her head, whispering that she has it on the regular. Some people are just insanely blessed.

But back to Danielle, she’s trembling all over, on the verge of collapsing onto the sheets. She’s under the impression that she can’t give in without your permission, and good on her for recognizing your authority over her.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” you tell her, stroking your cock inches away from her glistening cunt, rubbing your tip against her inner thigh, not giving her a second to relax. “You’re gonna regret saying all that shit to me when we’re done.”

Danielle’s already apologizing, frantically shaking her head, expecting the worst.

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” she begs, like that’s gonna change the past, or the outcome. It’s too late for that.

You push your hips forward, and God—you swear your ears are gonna burst from Danielle’s endless groan.

Thanks to how soaked her core is, even before your tongue, you effortlessly glide into her cunt and impale her to the womb. Breathless, asphyxiating, overwhelming. You feel every bit of her pulsing against your cock. The grip proves to be too much. Hands around her airtight waist, your abs tensing as you take her from behind in a picture perfect moment.

And you stay there, let the sensation wash over, give it time to fully register. To keep your head sane, your fingers trail to her taut, sensitive nipples, giving them a flick and a pinch, playing a cruel game with her patience.

“Oh my God—” Danielle whines, lowering her head, just bearing the full brunt of your weight pressing over her. To her credit, she’s holding up well. “Give it to me—fuck that big fucking cock into me already—”

The more she begs, the less you’re willing to comply. Languid, painstakingly slow, agonizing. That’s how you draw your cock back, even with the smooth glide of her warmth, like you’re removing a stake from her heart, leaving her to die before you thrust right back in.

You can’t help but crack a smile, taking grip of her hair, turning it into a makeshift leash to angle her head.

“You’re so fucking tight, Dani,” you mumble against her ear, your hot breath driving her wild.

Before she can say a word, you deny her the respite, fucking her to pieces, reducing the helpless woman to a heap of tears, moans, and curses.

Pounding into her cunt, letting your bodies do all the talking. There’s hardly a need to speak. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping skin, Danielle’s tireless, lewd sounds, and your groans. The bed quaking along with your pace adds to the immersion. You’re willing to end the world just to break Dani in half.

Again and again, continuing to fan the flames, your breaths matching your thrusts. Losing yourself in the madness of Danielle’s tight, suffocating cunt. She’s encouraging you to keep going. Minji joins too. Echoing, reinforcing all these twisted ideas in your head. Don’t fucking stop. As if you had any intention to quit. When you have a pussy this fucking good, this thoroughly stretched out—

You can’t get enough.

But even your body has limits. You can only hang on for so long. It’s beyond your control now; you’ll eventually be consumed by the very fire you started. Trapped between her legs, it’s heaven and hell all at once.

“Dani—I’m almost there—”

You’re throwing it out there to the wind, expecting a playful response, a desperate demand, a call to action. Instead, you’re met with the usual: her airy moans. She’s completely lost in her own bliss, shaking, bouncing with every thrust, unable to register a single word, only cock.

It’s a strange yet beautiful sight; Danielle as your personal cocksleeve, freely used as an outlet for your pleasure.

With your brain turning to mindless mush, her pussy milks your cock for your worth. Draining every last drop, blasting specks and eventually blanks into her tight hole till it’s gushing from her cunt. Slick mixed with her juices, spilling down her legs and onto sheets, beyond the point of repair.

No time to let the satisfaction sink in. Pleasure turns to relief almost immediately. There’s no celebration nor comfort. You’re hanging on by a thread. Sinking back onto the headrest, your vision blurring, the image of Danielle’s pussy throbbing—leaking—as her body crouches down in a pool of your cum, still on her fours. From screaming her heart out, being an insufferable brat, reduced to an absolute, irredeemable mess.

Minji crawls over to Danielle, slowly guides her beside you, reassuring her that you’ve fucked her senseless. It’s the understatement of the century.

“Stay here,” you tell Minji, using the dying sliver of energy you have left as your world gradually fades to black. Leaving her with a soft smile, you lay down and finally call it a night.

The last thing you feel is the wrap of an arm over your chest. Then another. And finally, a faint whisper, followed a soft peck:

“Goodnight, sweet prince.”

—————

Unsurprisingly, when you wake up, there’s not a trace of them to be found in the morning.

Check your clock and you’re already 30 minutes behind. Sun’s already bright and overhead, so you rush through your morning routine to be at work like normal. When you get there, you’re already an hour and a half late. You can blame the morning traffic for that. But tardiness is the least of your concerns.

Overnight, the company is scrambling—even more than normal. A look at the TV screens and it’s oh so easy to figure why. It’s all over the news and social media: a high data security breach seemingly exposing the company’s media manipulation, countless backhanded statements and remarks about rival companies and various idol name drops. So much negative press that has led to calls about a deep investigation into the entire operation.

You can only wonder as to how this all happened.

And then you see them. All five together, including the same two girls you fucked the night before.

As they step into one of the lifts with their staff, Minji and Danielle are the last to enter, catching you even from a distance with a smile and playful wink before they disappear from view.

Before you can even react, your attention is drawn by a much less welcoming presence. A harsh voice calls your name as she walks past you and towards the elevators, carrying with her a reminder of the consequences:

“Come see me in my office. Let’s talk about the data breach.”

Time to put those newly acquired million dollars to good use.

————— (A/N: Thank you for the commission! Always wanted to write NewJeans/NJZ again, especially Minji, but never had an idea. Excited for their redebut, here's praying everything works out for them. Thank you for reading!)

#kpop smut #njz smut #minji smut #danielle smut #newjeans smut

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dumbblond3 · 2 months ago

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★ FIGHT OR FUCK? ★

PIT FIGHTER VI FUCKING READER WHILE DICTATOR CAIT WATCHES

Caitvi x reader

NSFW MINORS DNI

“Just wish you two would get along hmm!”

A particularly rough thrust from Vi has your head reeling back into bed sheets

“That’s not for you to worry about baby ah- and maybe if cupcake over here could mm- lighten up we could go back to focusing on things that matter like our sweet girl”

Vi croons leaning down to your ear hitting that spot inside that leaves you cross-eyed

“Don’t act like this is my fault-“ Caitlyn chides

“I don’t need the spiel I’m a little preoccupied to keep this arguing up” Vi smirks back at Cait’s peeved expression

Caitlyn huffs her frustration almost outweighing her arousal at seeing you like this, almost

You feel her cool hand against your cheek, a soft attempt to soothe as Vi’s hips don’t miss a beat giving you no choice but to take it

“Mhmmm Cait please-“ you hear yourself start to beg for what exactly you’re not sure

“I know baby I know but you can take it for me, can’t you?” Caitlyn’s hushed words coat your mind in a hazy bliss that Vi can’t help but interject “You can take it for us, right honey? Or did you forget she’s mine too”

Vi punctuates her sharp words with the quick snap of her hips punching little whines out of you with each thrust

“Don’t like it when you fight- uhhh!”

Your pleas not falling on completely deaf ears, the two girls want nothing more than to make you happy but pride often gets in the way

A sharp glare is directed toward Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman does not fold and she certainly won’t be the one to apologize now

Unfortunately for you Vi is just as stubborn and as much as she wants to make you happy her ego can’t take admitting that she was wrong

So you'll stay stuck here in a tug-of-war over your pliant body until these two can learn how to make up in a way that doesn't involve fucking your lights out

"Maybe I'd think about giving in if I could have my turn with you pretty girl, how does that sound?"

Caitlyn's intentions are far from pure giving Vi a cheeky smile as she coddles you with faux sympathy

"No no, you don't" Vi hoists you up flat against her chest possesively "Just mad you didn't get to her first aren't you Cait? Too late for that shit now you'll just have to wait your turn" Vi sneers

While she may seem annoyed Caitlyn has no problem with patience if anything having Vi's sloppy seconds means you'll be even more sensitive and limp for her to use as she pleases

"I c-can't anymore please gonna cum-" and then there's you

With no chance of escaping until they decide you’ve had enough, it’s best to accept your role as beloved plaything and from the attitude they’ve shown so far it seems you’re in for a very long night

AN- These were my fave caitvi eras and I was sad they didn't interact more so I thought I should write something for them together, hope you enjoy! (not sure if anyone reads these anyway lol but kisses to my lovely readers 💋)

#blondie!talks #caitvi x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman #vi x reader #violet arcane #caitlyn x reader

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sunderwight · 2 months ago

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scum villain fairytale AU where every night, the beautiful yet cruel peak lord Shen Qingqiu transforms from his regal self into modern nerd Shen Yuan (complete with physical and wardrobe changes).

to keep the secret of his transformations, Shen Qingqiu has taken to locking himself up at night. so every night for the past few weeks, Shen Yuan has awakened to find himself chained and kept prisoner in the bamboo house. since he can't ask anyone, he has no idea that he turns back into someone else come morning, he just thinks he's being drugged or something and that this is his entire transmigration experience -- a prisoner of someone he never sees or interacts with, presumably being fed and bathed while he's unconscious somehow since he hasn't died and doesn't stink, who also hasn't seen sunlight since all of this began.

anyway one day Shen Qingqiu gets distracted and doesn't do the chains up properly (qi deviation issues most likely), and Shen Yuan manages to escape just before dawn. he doesn't completely get away because Shen Qingqiu did set up a last ditch imprisonment array that teleports Shen Yuan back into the house before he can leave the property line, but he gets outside and he calls for help.

disciple Luo Binghe (out early because he got sent to do nine million chores all night and didn't sleep to begin with) sees this thin and obviously frightened young man (in chains!) break out of his master's house and plea for assistance, only to be swallowed up by what looks like some kind of sinister magical effect and vanish.

curiosity piqued, the next night, Luo Binghe masters some of his fear of his harsh shizun and sneaks over to the bamboo house. it takes a few nights more for him to actually work up the nerve to actually peek into one of the windows.

to his astonishment, he sees the young man obviously being held captive inside. what's going on? is it a demon? but then, why would Shen Qingqiu hold him captive instead of just killing him? Luo Binghe is still barely young enough to want to give his cruel master some benefit of the doubt, out of hope for his own prospects if nothing else, but this seems pretty fucked up. especially since the chained man is so pretty, and so scantily clad (shorts and t-shirt)...

anyway, Shen Yuan notices Binghe and starts calling out to him for help. but this frightens Luo Binghe off, because he doesn't know that Shen Qingqiu won't hear and come running. he feels badly though and eventually does go back, and after Shen Yuan assures him that no matter how he screams or begs for help he's sure no one will come (until Binghe, no one ever has), Luo Binghe cautiously stays put and starts talking to him. after a while the young disciple can only conclude that his master must be going down the mountain to spend his nights at the brothels. no one has seen him leave for such trips in months, but he must have discovered a way to do so more secretively.

Shen Yuan has figured out since long ago that he transmigrated, although he doesn't know the setting, so he knows he can't entirely explain his situation to this random teenager. he also knows that there's a chance -- though it seems remote -- that the boy has something to do with his captivity, and isn't just the innocent bystander he seems to be. but with little to loose he's more inclined to trust and hope that this might give him an opportunity to escape.

meanwhile Luo Binghe is still cautious that this strange man might be a demon of some kind, or a trap or test on Shen Qingqiu's part, so he doesn't give his real name or tell Shen Yuan anything about the sect. gradually he becomes convinced of Shen Yuan's sincerity, even though he still doesn't dare go against Shen Qingqiu or actually set foot inside the house.

time passes, and Luo Binghe's visits become more regular. despite the lack of rescue, even just having someone to talk to is such a massive improvement that Shen Yuan doesn't complain. before long he gets the impression that this boy's situation isn't even much better than his own, as he is constantly sporting some bruise or visible injury or another, and offhandedly describes a lot of treatment that sounds frankly horrific as if he thinks it's simply normal. he figures he's in a cultivation setting and some kind of sect, though, and after a while he begins imparting tips and tricks and whatever he can think of to fill the silence with his mystery visitor.

this is eventually how he figures out that he's trapped in the world of PIDW, even if he doesn't quite figure out where or who with yet. because Luo Binghe describes some aspects of cultivation that would only apply to that hack job the author made of cultivation systems. which is a good thing because it lets Shen Yuan offer more specific advice, and also begin to try and make plans.

if he's imprisoned by cultivators, then one day Luo Binghe will probably arrive as part of his eradication of the sects. maybe Shen Yuan can beg mercy from him?

this becomes such an important fantasy that Shen Yuan begins to describe it to his little visitor, playing it off that he sometimes gets "visions" (and trying to help the poor kid some more, given that both of them are in danger in a stallion novel where no man is liable to live long in the protagonist's orbit).

at first Luo Binghe thinks that Shen Yuan has somehow figured out who he is, when the man begins to tell him stories of some great person of destiny who has the same name as him. but by then he's hooked so even though it's risky, he still keeps going back to the bamboo house at night, and after a few weeks he concludes that Shen Yuan really doesn't seem to realize that the name of his imagined demon emperor has anything to do with his visitor. he even describes Luo Binghe's own background and troubles to him, but offhandedly, as if he is just picking up loose details about someone else from a story or dream. even when Shen Yuan observes that the Luo Binghe of his stories has some similarities to the Luo Binghe outside the window, his does this in such a way that it just seems to emphasize that he has no idea that these "visions" he's started having are connected to his visitor. or that the villain Shen Qingqiu he describes is in fact his captor.

Luo Binghe guesses that these visions might be the reason Shen Qingqiu has locked Shen Yuan away. perhaps he is some kind of magical creature, if not a demon, and cultivators can benefit from stealing energy or blood or... other unsavory things from him, although Luo Binghe doesn't think Shen Yuan's predictions sound very accurate. he's still trying to figure it out when, in fact, one of those predictions comes true.

Shen Qingqiu declares that he's going into seclusion, and disappears into the lingxi caves. with him he takes a large box (big enough to hold a man and with vents on the sides), that he moves and handles himself, even though secluded cultivation doesn't usually call for a lot of luggage. from the box, just faintly, Luo Binghe imagines he hears the clink of chains. (Shen Qingqiu plans to lock himself into it every night.)

that night, when Luo Binghe goes to the bamboo house, he finds it completely empty. it's empty again the next night, too, no matter which windows he approaches. as the nights drag on he even grows bold enough to break into the bamboo house, but there's nobody inside.

Shen Qingqiu must have taken his prisoner with him into the caves. Luo Binghe cannot think of a reason to do that which is not nefarious, and he struggles to sleep each night, imagining terrible things that his cruel master could be doing to Shen Yuan as part of his efforts to improve his own cultivation. he can only pray that none of it proves fatal.

being locked in a box at night is pretty bad, but luckily one of the corners was kind of shoddily made, so Shen Yuan manages to get out of it after the second night. he's still chained and he can't leave the circle of an array Shen Qingqiu set up, but the cave is at least a change of scenery. Shen Yuan even feels inspired to attempt some cultivating of his own, although he worries that he's been moved to this weird place because someone caught his little visitor coming to the window, and he hopes that if so, no one has punished the boy (he knows that's a slim hope, given the kind of micro infractions his visitor has apparently been beaten over).

of course, there's a rampaging Liu Qingge qi deviating in the caves, so Shen Yuan gets to deal with that. Liu Qingge thinks he's having some kind of lingering fever dream when he gets rescued by some weird pervert at night, only to come to his senses and find he's being berated by a wild-eyed Shen Qingqiu instead.

Shen Qingqiu is not happy that Liu Qingge's rampage put him in proximity with his incredibly pathetic werewolf curse, the only relief is that the idiot seemed to be too out-of-his head from a qi deviation to remember most of it. and also apparently his "other self" saved the man's life, which Shen Qingqiu is just going to attribute to dumb luck. Shen Qingqiu is 100% convinced that this curse he's under is designed to get him killed or disgraced.

meanwhile, despite his fears about Shen Yuan's state, Luo Binghe does remember that the man told him about a demon attack that followed Shen Qingqiu going into seclusion. he's not sure what to expect, but somehow he isn't as surprised as he should be when Sha Hualing and her goon squad turn up. he is grimly terrified when the fighting tournament starts, and he sees the demon who matches the description of the one he's meant to fight and he can't imagine that working out in his favor... but Shen Yuan was perfectly adamant that despite the difficulty, Luo Binghe would win.

if he wins, does that mean the rest of it comes true? that Luo Binghe is a half heavenly demon, that he will one day become the strongest person alive, emperor of the three realms and owner of the largest harem ever to exist? the one person Shen Yuan seems to think might rescue him from his prison?

the idea of it (well, some of it) gets Luo Binghe through his fight. and then of course Meng Mo shows up, and Shen Yuan is pulled into the subsequent dream and figures out who is "mysterious visitor" really is and is kind of like, oh shit I gave Luo Binghe spoilers about his own destiny. shit. well. done is done...?

Luo Binghe is alright with most of it though. the Abyss sounds deeply unpleasant and he doesn't actually want any wives (so many nights spying on Shen Yuan lounging around in barely nothing and some chains have definitely led to some epiphanies on his part), but if Shen Yuan says he can survive it, he believes him.

and then he will rescue Shen Yuan. after the Abyss he's also completely sold on ruining and killing Shen Qingqiu too. there are no downsides and this plan cannot possibly go awry!

#svsss #bingqiu #bingyuan #scum villain #scum villain's self saving system #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #long post #bonus: luo binghe starts cooking for shen yuan whenever he can get his hands on some ingredients after the demon attack fiasco #shen qingqiu starts to go insane trying to figure out why his house smells delicious sometimes now #but there are no leads and there's never a trace of anything to find and his curse clearly didn't escape so he's just ???#it's not like someone would discover his terrible secret and then just feed it restaurant quality food that would be insane

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ivyyisbored22 · 2 months ago

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𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞—𝘓𝘦𝘦 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids drabble

Synopsis: Look what wearing that little skirt got you to...

Warnings: SMUT🔞. Overstimulation, squirting, use of a vibrator, mean!Minho, pet names, slight choking(?), name calling (slut. But only once).

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: Just a quick random drabble that came to my mind when I was bored in class. No plot really, just smut lmfao.

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 0.8k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Lee Know has never questioned anything you do, especially your wardrobe. He lets you wear whatever you want because every time he says, “If anyone dares to look in your direction, I’ll make him regret his existence.”

Which he has.

But. Wearing that little skirt was a BIG mistake. Thinking that you could have him wrapped around your finger was another BIG mistake. And being stupid enough to show off that skirt as if you weren’t already owned by him—mind, body and soul—in front of his friends to make him a little jealous was the BIGGEST mistake of all.

Because now look at you, sitting with your back pressed flush against him, legs open, hands tied behind, his hand around your neck and your pussy being abused by your favourite vibrator.

Oh, and wearing nothing but that little skirt.

“Minh— please—” you whined, trying to regain your lost voice while you were shaking, writhing, the intense buzzing of the vibrator only increasing by the second.

But he didn’t care for your pleas or your cries. “If you’re gonna act like a bratty slut, I’ll treat you like one honeypie,” he cooed, the nickname falling out of his mouth teasingly.

He was mean and ruthless, letting the buzzing wand continue its assault while he stroked your swollen, tender clit with agonizing pressure that had you squealing. Your juices have soaked the sheets beneath you, he pulled one orgasm after another, without giving you time to breathe or process it, you even lost count of it.

Your body trembled, pussy throbbing and thighs shaking against him as he kept you spread open, completely at his mercy.

A pleased hum rumbled against your ear, his breath warm as he pressed his lips to your flushed cheek. His fingers trailed up your belly, featherlight, teasing, setting every nerve on fire. “You wanted my attention so bad, and now you can’t even use your words?”

A strangled whimper left your lips, your wrists pulling helplessly against the restraints behind your back. His grip on your throat tightened just slightly, making your head spin.

“You know, for someone who put on a whole show in this little skirt, you’re awfully quiet now,” he mused, his tone dripping with menace and pinched your peaking nipple. “Where’s that confidence, baby? Thought you could have me wrapped around your little finger?”

You shook your head rapidly, your back arching against him as another wave of pleasure hit you like a crashing tide. “I— I was wrong, Minho,” you gasped out, your voice wrecked.

Minho chuckled lowly, and the deep, indulgent sound made your toes curl. “Good girl. Have you learned your lesson?” he murmured, kissing the shell of your ear before biting down gently, making you shudder.

His hand skimmed down to your thigh after teasing your sensitive nipples, gripping it firmly as he finally—finally—turned the vibrator down just a fraction, letting you breathe. You sagged against him, your head falling back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering.

But the reprieve was brief.

With a flick of his wrist, the vibrations surged back to full intensity, making you jolt in his grasp, a sharp cry leaving your lips.

“Ah, ah, not yet,” he tutted, his fingers tightening and digging onto your soft skin as he kept you locked against him.

Tears leaked out of your eyes as you squirmed, his fingers pressing against your puffy clit in tight, deliberate circles. The pressure was unbearable, the dual stimulation sending shockwaves through you.

The overwhelming sensation tipped you over the edge again and again, yet left you teetering just out of reach. He was so mean, so unbearably cruel, but you couldn't have it any other way.

“m’sens—sensitive, Minho please—”

You sobbed his name, barely able to form words anymore, completely undone in his hold.

A new wave of release climbed up your spine and left you reeling, your back arched when the knot snapped, the vibrator left your sloppy hole and a gush of liquid spasmed out of you.

You couldn't hold back the loud cathartic cry and Minho's grip softened completely as he watched you come hard and crumble against him, so utterly spent, it felt like you had nothing more left in your body.

You fell limp over Minho, chest heaving and feeling a pulse beat everywhere.

“Oh, honeypie,” he cooed, his voice dripping with faux sympathy as he pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head, his fingers stroking your swollen, pulsing pussy and then untied your wrists.

“All that attitude, and now look at you. My poor, dumb baby.”

His arms wrapped around you securely, pulling you flush against his chest. His fingers traced lazy circles along your spine, his touch suddenly turning gentle and soothing.

You whimpered softly, too exhausted to form words, only able to nuzzle deeper into his warmth.

Minho smirked, feeling the damp trails of tears still clinging to your cheeks. With a sigh, he tilted your chin up, pressing sweet, featherlight kisses along your temple, brushing away the tear stains on your cheeks and ghosted over your lips.

Your lashes fluttered as he wiped away the remnants of your tears with his thumb, his gaze hooded but affectionate.

“Next time,” he murmured, his lips curving into a lazy grin, “think twice before trying to make me jealous, yeah?”

You barely managed a weak nod, too lost in the warmth of his embrace and the lingering buzz between your legs, your limbs tangled with his.

Minho only chuckled, holding you closer. “That’s my girl.”

Enjoyed this drabble? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

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may-stuff · 2 months ago

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a friend in need. - fc43

summary: you've been best friends for almost your entire lives. who is he to deny you some help when you need it the most?

warnings: afab!reader, masturbation, oral sex (m), dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie || typos and grammatical mistakes because english is not my first language and I'm a little stupid. also, this isn't great in any way so please don't be mean, thank u.

word count: 6.6k approx.

a/n: please please please, if you read this and you like it at least a little bit, please interact with it. If I don't get notifications I die 🥀

In the loneliness of your bedroom, you can't help but let your mind wander. Surrounded by shadows that seem to whisper his name in your ears, you get engulfed in the reminisce of him and almost every moment you've shared together.

Behind your closed eyes you can see his beautiful face, his hair that smells so good, his hands and those long fingers that have touched you in a friendly way countless times before but tonight, tonight you remember those interactions from another perspective, in a new light.

Not everything is about his physique, though. The brightness of his smile that could light up an entire room, his laugh and the sound of his voice- everything about him is perfect, even the imperfections. You also think of his moody, short answers in the morning when he's still sleepy; you think of his frown and the look in his eyes when he's angry for something or at someone, and even that seems like undeniable proof of a kind of beauty you've never seen before in anyone else.

Your feelings for him, you realise now, go beyond everything; but tonight, in the quiet of your own room and with the knowledge that you'll never be more than his dear, best friend, you decide that setting your imagination free won't hurt anybody. He doesn't have to know, you don't even have to say his name out loud.

Only in your mind. His name echoes in every part of your conscience as you imagine. You imagine him in situations that you're sure you'll never see him in. You imagine him kissing you, both softly and then roughly, as if he were trying to consume all of you. Your mind shows him on top of you, his clothes gone, his lips on your skin and your name coming out of them in a plea.

The visions in your head are so clear that soon your own hands are exploring your body. First, they travel up and down all through your abdomen, making you feel goosebumps at the thought of how good this would feel if it only were his hands on your skin. When you reach your breasts and cup them in your hands under your shirt, you can't help but to moan softly, even more when your fingers pinch your nipples that, in result, become impossibly hard in a matter of seconds. With the image of his beautiful lips wrapping around your hardened peaks, painting them with his own saliva, you feel that familiar pressure in your lower abdomen. That sensation that comes with the arousal that becomes physical and pools in the deepest parts of you, coating your underwear more and more with each second that passes and he's still in your mind, touching you, making you feel better than any man has ever done before.

In the complexity of the mind, a deep feeling of guilt presses onto your chest. You know this is wrong, you know this isn't what you should do when you think of your dearest friend, but you can't help it. You can't avoid the feelings and the images in your mind. It's like a film that won't stop playing over and over; it's a bunch of images of him on top of you, inside of you, whispering the filthiest things right in your ear. It's him telling you how divine you feel around him, how much he loves being buried deep inside of you. It's his voice moaning and grunting, face hidden in the curve between your neck and your shoulder.

It's your hands caressing his back and your nails digging into his flesh every time he moves inside you, the lewd sounds of his cock sliding into your hungry pussy filling the room and, in response, making you more needy.

In the real world, your left hand has already reached your underwear. Your fingers come in contact with the wet spot right above your slit and you moan softly to the knowledge that you've become this wet only because he is in your mind. And as the guilt hits you once again, trying to drift your mind away from the pleasure that the thought of him gives you, you decide to go against it.

He will never know about this.

That thought is decisive. Your shirt and underwear are gone in a matter of seconds, and when you feel the soft air coming in from the window and touching your skin, you shiver. You wish he would be here, his natural warmth engulfing your body and soul, making the sadness and loneliness go away. But you're alone in your empty house- and even if he were here, he wouldn't be where you want him to be.

With the crude reality put in the back of your mind, your fingers finally travel down to where you need attention the most. Feeling your own dampness, you let out a deep sigh. No one has ever made you this wet, not even yourself. All of this is thanks to him, because of him. The fire in your veins, the need to feel pleasure, the need to cum, all of this intensity is due to him and his face engraved in your mind.

That's why you can hear his voice so clearly in your head the moment one of your fingers finds its way inside of you. The familiar intrusion feels good but it's obviously not enough, so it isn't surprising that a second finger adds to the first in a matter of seconds and this time you feel fuller. You feel fuller and needier, because now you're realising that nothing will be actually enough, because what you need isn't a matter of size, it isn't a matter of how and how much; it's about him. It's all about him.

About his face and his hands and his voice. About your own fingers trying to find the right pace as you can almost feel his lips on your skin. It's about you and the need to say his name even though you know that you shouldn't, because if you do, it'll become real. The shameful thought that you want your best friend in ways that you shouldn't, will become true if you say his name out loud.

But you can't help it. Your fingers inside of you feel good enough to make you whimper and mutter words that don't make sense. They're enough to fuel the images in your mind and you can't take it anymore. So, against your will, his name leaves your lips and you feel some sort of relief with it, because now your needs have claimed his name as their own. Your lust has a name now, and you can't stop saying it.

“Franco.”

It comes out in a soft plea at first, loud enough so only you can hear it. But it doesn't take much time or effort for you to continue further, saying it louder and louder each time your fingers enter your cunt again. Soon the room is filled with your pleas and cries that almost sound like you're in pain, because in a way you are, but his name falling from your lips over and over are enough to cover them up. Or at least that's what you think.

You would have heard the front door opening and closing if you were paying more attention to your surroundings. You would have heard the voice calling your name once, twice a second later and then the steps getting closer to your room. You would have had time to cover yourself and come up with an excuse if you weren't so lost in your own mind and body. That's why the only thing that brings you back to the present, to reality, is the light that bathes your face when your bedroom's door opens.

Everything happens so fast that you're sure you won't be able to recall this memory in the near future. Or maybe you will, and it will haunt you for the rest of your life.

Once your eyes get used to the light that has suddenly corrupted the darkness in your room, your heart starts beating fast with horror.

He's standing there, at your door, and the expression on his face is quite difficult to decipher. At his complete mercy, you're fully naked, laying on your bed with your legs wide open and your hands on your cunt; one of them with fingers buried deep inside you while the other is resting a little bit higher, just above your clit. Your chest is rising up and down with the heavy breathing that the pure terror and shame have triggered. Eyes wide open, mouth agape, you're frozen in the spot, unable to say a word, unable to act.

The tension in the room is cut when he says your name, and maybe you're imagining things, but his voice sounds strangled.

Then, after some seconds, he mutters it again, your name. This time you're sure he's shocked with the scene in front of him but not entirely disgusted.

The fear and guilt that had taken over you vanish almost completely when you see the expression on his face. Your eyes have adapted to the shining light coming into the dark room, so now you can see him more clearly, and the strange glint in his eyes is enough to make you think that maybe, just maybe, something good can come out of this situation.

Franco's eyes are wide open for a few shocking seconds. Then, when his brain processes the image before him, they start roaming your body. Bright green eyes observe your chest, bare tits and hardened nipples that seem to get even harder under his gaze. The valley between your breasts is covered in sweat and, in a strange way, that makes them look even more appealing. Your stomach, then, is a zone that perhaps you feel a little concerned to show too much but his expression doesn't change at any stop his eyes make on your body. He admires every part with the same intensity, with the same look of bewilderment in that gorgeous face.

He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible groan when his eyes reach your lower stomach and your legs, long and thick. His mouth agape when, in a sudden movement full of boldness, you open them a little wider and let him see more. He's standing to your right, so he can't see all of you properly, but he can see enough and, by the expression on his face, he's loving every second.

The absence of a negative reaction on his part emboldens you to act. Your hands, as if they were separated entities from the rest of your body, resume the earlier activities. Two of your fingers find your clit at the same time your left hand grabs one of your breasts. A sigh leaves your lips at the sudden contact and the fact that Franco is watching your every move makes a wave of pleasure hit you hard. You're aware that you're starting to put on a pornographic show for your best friend and, honestly, you're enjoying it maybe too much.

This is the first time you've seen him so focused on something. All those times he told you he struggled with his own attention span, you should've known that being naked in front of him, touching yourself for him, would be all he'd need to keep quiet and focused. That's why you chuckle when your eyes find him again and you see that his gaze is still fixed in your body.

The sound, a mix of a giggle and a moan, make him look at your face.

"Franco." You moan his name for the hundredth time this evening and rejoice when you actually see him shiver at the sound of your voice. "Please, please help me." You whimper, your own fingers pumping in and out of you faster each time. Harder. "I need you."

He closes his eyes for a few seconds and you know that he's fighting against something, against the fact that, if he gives in, everything will change. You will be friends no longer, because friends don't do this, friends don't want each other in such a way. But you do, and both of you know it. You both also know that, if you act on your shared desire, then when the moment is over you'll probably be in a limbo, trying to figure out what comes next.

But Franco actually doesn't care about the after, he almost never thinks too much before he acts. He lives the moment. You know that and your knowledge gets reinforced when he opens his eyes again and walks towards you, closing the door behind him. In response your heart flutters with excitement.

Your fingers leave you and go up to rest on your lower stomach when he reaches your side. He's standing at your right, and this time you realize that he's looking at you in the face, looking for your gaze. When your eyes finally meet again, you can read a question that is answered with a nod of your head.

You want this. You want this so bad.

Franco's left hand caresses your hair first. His long fingers intertwine in your locks and for a moment you close your eyes to enjoy the innocent touch that, in a different situation, would get you to sleep. But the grip becomes a bit firmer and now he's tugging on it so your head can move to the side again, that way you can meet his eyes. As his hand leaves your head and travels to your soft cheek and then your lips, you don't stop looking at each other.

A gasp leaves your throat when his thumb sits on your lower lip, and then he puts it inside your mouth, gently enough to give you time so you can reject him if you want. But you don't, you would never.

Soft lips wrap around his finger. Franco's reaction to the feeling of your tongue against the pad of his thumb in an almost imperceptible moan. The sound is low, coming out from the centre of his chest through gritted teeth, and it is the first time in the night that you feel some sort of pride fluttering inside you. The simple fact that he's reacting like this to the first physical contact with you is enough to make you act even bolder than before, and you keep sucking on his finger while looking him in the eyes.

Franco smiles almost tenderly before the tone of his voice becomes twisted.

“Who would've thought…” he mutters, still looking at you. “That you were such a desperate slut, huh?”

The sound you make in response to his words is almost inhuman. You're desperate and he can hear it in the tone of your moans, that are still muffled by his finger inside your mouth.

“All these years…” he continues, voice feeling like velvet on your heated skin. “You were always such a good girl. Always the one to behave properly, wise beyond her years, or at least that's what all of them said, your family and mine… What would they think of you, (y/n)?” Franco asks, the mocking tone coming back. You squirm on the bed as you take his finger deeper and hollow your cheeks, imagining his cock in its place.

“What would they think of you, (y/n)?” He presses on. This time, you look up at him. “If I told them about this. How I found you naked on your bed, fingers deep inside your soaked cunt while moaning my name like the fucking little whore you are. What would your family say? And mine? Should I let them know how much of a slut you're?”

You almost cry when he takes his finger off your mouth.

“Answer me.” He commands. “Should I let everyone know?”

“If it pleases you.” You answer, voice sounding a little hoarse because of the previous activity in your throat.

He smiles.

“Is that what you want? To please me?”

You nod, fully conscious that you're making yourself look desperate- and actually you are. His mere presence, the sound of his voice, the smell of his cologne and the fact that he apparently wants you as much as you want him is enough for you. You're more than ready for him, for all of him, and Franco knows it.

He knows it because it's written in you. All over the expression on your face and the way you open your legs for him when his right hand travels all the way down to your knee, and stays there, not moving back but neither further, torturing you silently.

“Please.” You whisper. “Fran, I need you.”

It's funny, though. You're the one who's ready to please but you also are the one who begs. You've been actually begging him to touch you since the moment you saw him standing at the threshold.

Franco wishes you could read his mind and know that he's waited for this moment for a long time. He's wanted you since the moment you met, all those years ago. First, it was an innocent crush, that was all a child could offer, of course. But since you both grew into yourselves and he started to discover the world and other people- Franco had been with enough people to know that none of them could compare to you, even if he hadn't laid a hand on you yet. Something about you, about your aura, about the strong pull he felt towards you every single time you were in the same room, would assure him that nothing, no one, could compare to you.

And now you're here, right in front of him, begging. The sound of your voice is almost haunting, like you're in deep pain. He could ask himself over and over again if this is the right thing to do, but in all honesty, he doesn't care about that. He only cares about you and the painful desire you make him feel even when he hasn't touched you properly yet.

Besides, if you really need him as you say, if you're in pain as you sound, who is he to deny you his help? Isn't he, after all, your best friend?

That thought is all he needs to vanish his worries to the darkest pit of his mind.

“Are you really sure about this?” His voice cuts the silence once again. The eager nod coming from you makes him smile. “I need words, love.”

“Yes.” You answer almost too fast. “Please, Fran. Please. I can't wait anymore.”

He curses under his breath because he honestly can't believe it. He's amazed by your eagerness and so fucking turned on that he feels like he's going to cum right here and now.

So, to avoid that, Franco doesn't waste any more time. Before you can blink twice, he's undoing his trousers and underwear, pulling them down as his hard cock springs out. You moan at the sight of it. Long and thick enough to make your mouth literally water, standing proud and impossibly hard against his shirt, almost staining the fabric with the precum that pools at the angry red tip. It's beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your cunt hurts with the anticipation of feeling it in you.

After taking his shirt off, Franco's right hand travels down to his dick, grabbing it with a firm grip before pumping it a few times, smearing his own juices all over his length, which makes it look even more appetizing.

You wait in your place on the bed, observing the small show of him touching himself for a few seconds until his right knee sinks on the mattress, right beside your shoulder. Then, his left hand goes to your hair, under your head, lifting it and adjusting it in the right way so the head of his dick is now right on your lips. He traces them with it, as if he were painting them.

“So fucking perfect.” He whispers. In response, you let your tongue lick around the head of his dick, coaxing a deep moan out of him. The first contact with his skin is delicious but now you want more, so much more. And apparently he feels the same.

“I'm gonna put it in your mouth. Is that okay, baby?” He asks. You make a sound that it's a mix between a whine and a moan as you nod for the hundredth time in the night. “Gonna suck my cock until I cum down your throat?” You almost jolt in excitement at that. “Yeah? You want my cum?”

Your answer sounds against the skin of his dick, which you keep licking. “Yes. Yes, please.”

That is the last thing you say for a few minutes, right before he presses the tip against your lips again and this time you open your mouth wide enough to take him in. The way Franco moans at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth is pornographic and you thank the Gods for that, the fact that he's always so vocal about everything and this situation is not an exception. Actually, his moans are all the fuel you need to keep going. The taste of him too. Everything about him makes you take him deeper inside your mouth every time he pulls almost all the way back, fucking your face faster and harder as the minutes pass by.

The grip on your hair becomes tighter as the sounds of your throat being fucked fill the room. You gag only two times, when he pushes all the way in and holds his dick in the deepest part of your throat he can reach, your nose pressed against him and saliva falling down your chin and neck. Every time he pulls out, you take a second or two to gather your breath but soon enough he's at it again, and you receive him without any complaint, relaxing your throat all you can as he keeps filling it over and over again.

The intensity and pleasure of it all becomes almost unbearable and soon you're pressing your thighs together, trying to ease the almost literal pain you feel. Franco sees it, attentive to your body even though a great part of his mind is clouded with the sweet abandon of pleasure. So, for a few seconds, he eases the grip on your hair so you can start doing most of the work now, because his right hand travels from your knee to your inner thigh, and it isn't long until you can feel his fingers in your cunt.

Both of you moan at the feeling. You, because the pressure of his fingers on your slit ease the pain you've been feeling; him, because you're so fucking wet that, when he starts massaging your clit, your juices are so abundant that the movements he makes leave a loud, squelching sound behind them.

“You're soaked.” He moans, still inside your mouth and touching you at the same time. “Is this because of me, love?”

The answer is obvious to both of you, but you answer anyway, “Yes.” You say, a hoarse voice can barely be heard above the sounds of your cunt. “Yes, it's because of you. Always.”

Franco smiles, “Do you always touch yourself while thinking of me?” You nod and this time he laughs. It doesn't make you feel bad because it isn't a mocking laugh, it's like he can't believe it. “Same. You have no idea how many times I've made a mess while thinking of you.”

As his velvety voice keeps sounding in your ears, he keeps massaging your clit, faster as the seconds go by.

“I've imagined you in every position.” He mutters. “I've made myself cum so many times, thinking of your sweet mouth and cunt wrapped around me, milking me as many times as we wish.”

He's realized from the first moment that dirty talking is one of your weaknesses, and lucky you, he loves saying naughty things, so he keeps doing it as he massages your clit and smiles triumphant when your legs start trembling and you look at him with an expression on your face that he will never forget. Glassy eyes look up at him as your teeth sinks into your lower lip; your orgasm is close and everything about you says so.

When you try to close your eyes, his hand immediately slows the pace on your clit. You frown.

“What-?”

“You keep looking at me.” He commands. You want to yell at him, but his movements become fast again and the sweet pressure on your lower belly comes back. “You look me in the eyes as you cum or I won't do this again, you understand?” You nod. “Words, (y/n).”

“I- fuck, I understand!” You moan as his fingers keep working you on at an impossible pace.

Not many seconds pass by until the first orgasm hits you hard. Your eyes are still on his; your entire body trembling as the most lewd sounds leave your throat. The simple act of having an orgasm while looking at those beautiful green eyes is enough to bring tears to yours. The pleasure is too overwhelming.

When the best seconds of your life so far end, your body relaxes and Franco pulls both his hands away from you, letting you rest on the bed. The fingers that worked your clit are now in his own mouth as he sucks them clean. The sight makes you moan.

“Delicious.” He says, coaxing a giggle out of you. “What?”

“You're crazy. And so fucking hot.”

Franco smiles and shrugs.

“You know me.”

“Not like this, no.”

“Oh, this? This is nothing, love.”

You frown, “You gave me the best orgasm of my life by simply touching my clit and you call it nothing? It never felt like that before.”

“I mean, it's not my fault that your previous lovers were fucking idiots.”

You smile.

“And you're what, some sort of sex God?”

“That I am.”

A genuine laugh escapes your lips. You laugh at his smug words and at the entire situation. Everything is so- surreal, in a way. It's almost comical. But the sound dies in your throat when you realize the way he's looking at you. He's not mad or annoyed, he just looks like he's discovered something new in you, but if he did he doesn't say it out loud.

Soon, when you've recovered from your orgasm, you realize that Franco's still standing by your side and his dick is still impossibly hard. You remember his previous words, about sucking him off until he's cumming down your throat, and you feel the fire inside you light up once again. Your right hand wraps around his dick without a warning and he hisses, but he doesn't pull you away, instead enjoying your ministrations.

“Not right now.” He says after a minute or two, as if he's reading your mind. You're sure, though, that he's actually reading the expression on your face as you jerk him off. It's clear that you want him to cum. “Not like this, I won't last long.”

You stop. Then, looking into his eyes, you open your legs for him once again.

“Come here, then.”

He doesn't need to be told twice. In an instant, he's standing at your feet; both hands reach behind your knees and they pull you towards him.

In a silent agreement, both of you take your time to look at each other. He's lucky enough to have you like this- completely bare before him, body glistening with sweat due to the previous activities, pretty face with an expression of utter pleasure as you anticipate what's coming, unconsciously opening your legs further, letting him fully see you. You're out of this world, so beautiful that it almost hurts. And he isn't so far behind- you also think he's the most handsome man you've ever seen, with those eyes scanning every piece of you, his curls sticking to his forehead and, oh, such a pretty face. His body is something else too- the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen, the shape of his arms, his hands. You take his hands in yours for a moment, squeezing them, praying this isn't the last time you feel them on you.

You're both so mesmerized with each other that your bodies seem to move with their own consciousness, and that's why you share a loud moan when he enters you for the first time.

It feels like nothing you've experienced before. You can't decide what is it that makes him so different from other people you've been with, but surely, there's something that makes Franco feel like heaven. He stays still for a few, long seconds because he's just realized that he penetrated you without warning and in a single movement, and even though it's obvious that you're ready enough to receive him, he doesn't want to hurt you.

What he doesn't realise is that you're in pain once again because you need him to move and put an end to this feeling, this primitive need to have him just fucking you hard and deep. And that's what you finally ask from him, without shame, without guilt.

“Please.” You beg once again. “Move. Please, move. I need to feel you.”

You're sure you're about to cry but the tears get stuck in your eyes when Franco complies and starts moving his hips. It's slow at first, like he's testing the waters, but when the only thing you do is moan softly and writhe under him, crying for more, his hands leave yours and travel to your hips. Once he's sure his grip on your flesh is firm enough, he accelerates the pace, and starts pumping into you with a force that has you almost screaming.

Soon you start moving your own hips, meeting him halfway and making the experience a thousand times better, if that's even possible. The feeling of his dick inside you, so fucking deep, is more than anything you've ever felt in your life.

The room is filled with the sound of your skin against his, and the musky smell of sex intoxicates your senses. You've dreamed about this moment for so long that it feels surreal- his hands on your hips, his cock deep inside you and his eyes roaming the entirety of your body, all of it feels so out of this world and you love every second. You love it so much that you feel drunk with pleasure and something else that you can name yet.

Franco grins at the sight of your eyes, glassy with tears that you're soon to shed. A deep feeling of pride fills his chest.

“Look at you.” He taunts, never stopping his movements. “You were made for this, weren't you? You were made for my cock, for me.”

You nod and moan, unable to form a full sentence as his pace becomes impossibly fast and hard- it's almost too much and the thought of asking him to slow down crosses your mind for a split second, until his hands travel up from their place on your hips to your breasts, and your brain almost shuts down.

“Gonna enjoy these later, I promise.” He chuckles as his long fingers start kneading the flesh of your tits. When he pinches your nipples, the moan that leaves your throat is almost too much, but you don't care. It feels too good to hold back.

You relish on the feeling of his fingers on your hard nipples until his right hand stops its ministrations to start roaming the skin of your left side, your waist, all the way back down to your hip and then- then you feel his fingers on your clit again, massaging it with expertise. You can't help but throw your head back as a deep moan leaves your throat.

“Fuck, yes.” You moan, almost hysterical. “So good, so good- oh my-”

Franco chuckles again and then says, in a mocking tone, “You're so dirty, (y/n). You really-” his words are suddenly interrupted by a strangled groan as you tighten your walls around him. Your warmth hugging his dick in a way that has him literally losing his balance and almost falling on top of you, and he would've crushed you if his arms weren't strong enough to keep him hovering over you.

His face contorted in an expression full of sheer pleasure, he looks so good with his eyes closed and mouth agape, desperately trying to hold the moans in.

You're the one who chuckles this time.

“Too good, huh?” You tease him, your cunt tightening around him once again. He groans and hides his face in the crook of your neck. “Can't take it, baby? Too much for you?”

Franco moans again and then you hear him whisper.

“I'm gonna make you- you will pay for this.”

You giggle softly.

“I think I'd like that.”

All resolve leaves him when you make your magic again. The feeling of your cunt hugging his dick so tightly is enough to make him lose his mind and almost all control. His movements become messier as they get faster, you feel him twitch inside you once, then twice. You hum at the feeling, caressing his back and nape, then intertwining your fingers with his messy, wet locks.

“I'm close.” He moans, the sound muffled by your skin.

“I know, baby. Come on, cum for me."

“You first.”

For a moment you think your words are enough, but apparently they aren't. In a second, Franco seems to take back control of the situation when he suddenly breaks away from your arms, kneeling in front of you just like before- his hard, throbbing dick still deep inside of you. You're about to ask him what's going on but then his long fingers are on your clit again, and you answer by throwing your head back in a loud moan.

Franco keeps working on the most sensitive part of your body as he starts moving again, in and out, at a torturous pace that has you writhing on the bed. Your eyes fill with tears again and he smiles.

“Cum for me, love.” He encourages through gritted teeth. You know he's holding his own orgasm back by fucking you slowly, and his will certainly impresses you. “Please, do it. Cum all around my cock.”

How would you deny him? When he looks so good fucking you, working on your clit like this isn't the first time. How would you deny him anything when this is all you've ever wanted?

So you let yourself go. Your second orgasm hits you harder than the previous one, sweet cunt gushing all around him, soaking him and the sheets below you. Your moans are almost pornographic and you feel him twitch inside you at the sound of them.

In the electric explosion that takes over your entire body and mind, you feel him crawling back on top of you, like he was just minutes ago. His face hiding in your left shoulder again as his hips keep fucking into you aggressively, making your climax last longer than expected.

“Look at me.” You moan in his ear and your body trembles with the sound of a deep groan coming as a response. After a few seconds of you repeating those words, he lifts his head to look at you, forehead pressed against yours. “Cum inside of me and don't stop looking at me as you do it.”

He chews on his lower lip.

“I-inside?” You nod as much as you can. “Fuck, (y/n).”

“Please, I need it.” You moan against his mouth, your eyes on his. “I need your cum.”

That last sentence is accompanied by his name and the way you moan it's all it takes for him to finally let go. The sounds Franco makes when he's cumming deep inside of you are never going to leave your memory, and you wish, right here, now, that you have the opportunity to hear them again many times from tonight. The sight of him is beautiful too- brows furrowed, eyes desperately trying to stay open and that pretty mouth shaped in an O form. His cheeks are red and glistening with the sweat that's covering him, as well as the tip of his nose.

As he empties inside of you, you keep caressing his back, leaving goosebumps behind your touch. His skin shivers with the feeling, still making little sounds that will haunt you forever.

He pumps into you two or three times more, still filling you with his release, that soon you start feeling overflowing your cunt, falling down your ass and on the sheets. You wonder if he always cums this hard, and the idea that he might not, that you're the only one that makes him feel like this, it's exciting.

After some long seconds he stops moving his hips but is still buried deep inside of you. His face goes back to the crook of your neck for the second time and you smile as you feel his hot breath on your skin and then a kiss, then his teeth grazing the spot and sinking into it.

“That's gonna leave a mark.” You moan.

“Good.”

You stay like that for minutes that feel like hours, in each other's arms, your skin sticking to his due to the sweat that you both share but you couldn't care less. It feels too good, everything about it feels too good and none of you make an attempt to break away from the other.

Franco knows, as well as you do, that this has been an event that will change everything forever. Some part of you is afraid of what comes next- a hundred questions flood your brain but the main one is the one that haunts you the most. Was this a one night stand?

You're about to gather the courage to ask him when he lifts his head to look at you, forehead against yours again. You look him in the eyes and, for a moment, you think that the green in his gaze gives you the answer you so desperately need. But in case you needed confirmation, he decides to speak it out loud.

“I wanna do it again.” He simply states, and you feel your chest full with happiness. “Like, forever. I really mean it.”

You giggle in response and you feel the tears that you've been holding back slowly falling down your cheeks. Franco kisses them away as soon as he notices them.

“You liked it that much?” You ask as he keeps kissing your face. He stops for a moment to answer, his lips moving against your jaw.

“Yeah. But I like you, all of you.” He says. “And I want you so much it hurts.”

“I want you, too.”

He smiles shortly before capturing your lips with his, and you realise that this is the first time you've ever kissed. People are supposed to kiss before having wild sex, but who cares?

All you care about is Franco and his pretty lips on yours, moving with such confidence and expertise that leave you breathless. You can feel everything in that kiss, it feels like he's trying to say all those things that he thinks it's too soon to say yet, but you answer him with the same intensity, making him tremble in your arms.

His kiss says that he loves you too much to let you go, and you tell him that you feel the same.

a/n2: hope you liked it! pls let me know what you think ♥

#may writes #.#franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto smut #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fic #franco colapinto imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 smut

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strungnews · 2 months ago

Text

Being in a polycule with Mark Grayson and Eve Wilkins is weird.

The two never really thought about it, hell, never really thought about anyone else romantically besides each other. They are quite literally, a power couple! But at the same time how could they fall in love with someone who they all got bad first impressions from?

(Fair warning I started rambling about this on the 22nd and ive been distracted with other content so it might be inaccurate and not up to date with the new upcoming eps! Sorry! 4k+ words oof)

When did you first meet?

Mark Grayson: First spotted at the convention, where you served as a temporary helping hand to one of your close friends who ran a free fix it portable station that helped aid costume malfunctions for cosplayers. You were a jack of all trades and a master of none. An average grade student, who participated as little and as much activities as one felt like, nothing really piquing your interest at any capacity to fully commit to it. Badminton, swim team, volleyball, chess, journalism, art, sewing. The talents and passion you had for it all were mediocre at best, but useful when the situation called for it.

Need an extra player in your team? You won't willingly volunteer, but if there was no other choice, so be it. Someone needing help on their swim technique? You've gotten more ear infections than you could count all because of swimming, several visits to the doctor and ear drops used. But an advice or two wouldn't hurt.

It just so happened you held a bit of liking to sewing, and with reluctance agreed to your friend's pleas of help for the upcoming convention day. You weren't really looking forward to helping around people who forgot to wear deodorant or were in desperate need of a shower, but he said you were splitting the tips by the end of the day. Money is money.

Mark would someyimes notice you here and there, carrying a huge clunky bag while assisting to anyone you could offer a hand to, but other than that, he said and did nothing else. He was more worried about the line for the Seance dog signing and Amber to properly pay attention. But couldn’t help gravitate towards you for some reason.

Though he does give credit where credit was due, between you and your close friend, you were a lot faster with the needle than he was. And you were only doing this for a day! But he didn't know that. Mark wouldn't lie, but he did find himself leaning over and away to look closer at your handy work whenever someone would happily walk away, almost catching his eye whenever you felt like you were being stared at more intensely than the individual you were fixing up.

His first ever person to person interaction was tainted by Mark getting distracted at the crowd of people dressed up as Invincible, before almost falling over himself and you. The supply of items you had just packed up all nice and neat now lay scattered all over the floor, going back to square one.

"Oh! Im so so sorry let me just-" "Thank you, but don't." You swat away his helping hand and turn your back to him. There he stands awkwardly, watching you silently pick up the pieces, his hand rubbing at his neck in guilt. The way you glared and spoke to him might as well had burned holes into his head till he had nothing resting atop his shoulders but charred remains.

You just ended up shoving everything back into place out of pure irritation before storming off, not sparing Mark a glance, not wanting to bother acknowledging him and getting angry for no reason.

He never noticed that you went to the same school as him before that whole interaction. All of a sudden it was like you were spawning everywhere he went, and you were non the wiser about it.

Whenever he'd walk with William and Amber, you'd be somewhere secluded with something to occupy yourself or just talking to that one guy you seemed close with. Even at the cafeteria, where you would be surrounded by people he had never seen you around with. Mostly tolerating their presence by the looks of it, only there because you were friends with one of them. Then you'd also started to hang out with Eve, which made him even more curious about you. Was Eve close with you? What was your relationship with her? Maybe he was getting a bit too nosy. Eve Wilkins: It was a lot harder to grab Eve's attention, even unintentionally. She's a busy gal, always handling this world crisis here and another there, she mostly has to focus time for herself and heroing than the people around her when she's just being Eve the student.

College wasn't all that hard for her, she was great at science and other subjects alike, a top student, Eve is.

But you weren't. In fact you were almost failing her favorite subjects. Numbers shmumbers, you hated it. And unfortunately for her, you were dumped on top of her already full plate unceremoniously when she had been pulled aside by one of the professors.

She didn't want to take it, but she didn't want a fellow student to fail a class she thought was so easy. So she hesitantly agreed, biting more than she could chew.

The event for the both of you was stressful to say the least. She was frustratingly ambiguous about her time and schedule, which clashed with your want to be punctuational, keeping interactions simply transactional. This was both stressful and moreso awkward for the two of you to go through. Eve wished you were a fast learner, but you were failing classes that involved numbers for a reason. Ouch.

Several pensive and forced smiles in the discomfort of your dorm room, each time you were told to start over or why you got this and that as an answer and formula was helping a migrane slowly develop the more time passes. She was trying her best, she really was. And you were too, you both can see the strained effort you two had put in. But by god the process was going by slow.

More breaks would occur than actual learning, before you caved and gave in first.

"I'm never getting this, am I?" Falling back to your mattress with a stiff bounce, you close your eyes and put an arm over them. Hand clenched, nails digging into the palm of your hand.

"Well, you're making progress. As slow as it is at least." You can appreciate how she still has the courtesy to be nice and sugarcoat it, but that was just making you all the more resentful of the situation.

"I just- I dont get it! How do you get this from that?" Quickly sitting up to point accusingly at the paper that lies on your soft cushions, its crumpled and dented with the amount of times you had to erase with shavings of it not too far beside.

"It's hypothetical, thats why we have assigned formulas." Eve pinches the bridge of her nose. She's exhausted and just wishes she could crash at her bed. But even the trip to the treehouse seemed tiresome to do, now contemplating if it was the best course of action to live there.

"Yes, I know! But-ugh." It feels useless, putting your hands up in defeat. "At least with science you can tell what you actually need to use. Math is all 'use your common sense', well i'm trying." Muttered through gritted teeth, you close the abused books and notebooks scattered on the bed.

It was a unified agreement to take a break and go out for a little while and get grub, blowing steam off in the process.

This goes on for two weeks, and gradually progress begins to show. You're making more sense of the subject and are putting pieces together easily than before, which used to be nothing. It was going at a snails pace, but progress is progress!

A small surprise quiz had popped up, and you answered the questions with a keen eye. Double checking, using the memorization methods Eve basically drilled into your head, a wavering air of confidence around you as you wrote.

The time for grading happened all too soon, exchanging papers to whomever was closest to you, checking one another's work before passing it back and receiving your own. Here came and greeted an unbelievably high score plastered in red ink on your paper, reading a 16/20.

You almost cried in joy with how surreal it was. It may just be a simple quiz to the others, but this was practically a milestone to you. The news was given to her, and you both felt lighter knowing you finally had it handled. As a cause for celebration, you decided to lounge in your bed and just have a time for yourself, no longer plagued with the tutors. Coming in the whole situation with Eve filled with dread, and coming out with a feeling of self reassurance.

Your time spent with Eve decreased the more time went on, which you were a bit sad about. Having considered her as a friend, but knew it was inevitable. School work is still work.

On occasion she and you would just text, maybe ask for help whether it be math or personal things, or just to reply to a stupid cat video one of you sent.

Eve did begin to notice you became a lot more confident in answering and volunteering in class, and she felt proud for you.

Meet up!

Burgermart seemed to be more sensational than before, ever since Mark decided to quit.

The place isn't as packed as other foodchain restaurants would usually be, but it seems a lot more crowded than what Mark was used to.

It was his to go to place even though he’ll be met with a few familiar faces working behind the counter, but nothing too bad.

He waits in line, orders his usual, and walks to his unofficial spot that Mark likes to sit at. Only to already be occupied with a friendly face he has met, and another not so much.

Based on the confusion on yours it’s safe to say you probably don’t remember him. Probably. Hopefully.

“Mark! Fancy seeing you here,” The two exchange hugs while you awkwardly watch, biting on your greasy burger unashamedly.

You and Eve move to the corner of each of your booths, and decidedly Mark sits next to you instead. A flash of hurt goes over her face, but disappears as soon as it came.

They’d chatter and munch on the fries left over from the burger platter of Eve’s plate, only humming noncommittally whenever you’d be dragged into the conversation, but said nothing else. Not wanting to butt in their conversation, so mulled over on why this guy’s face felt so familiar to you. But nothing pops up.

Everyone finishes up and after a few minutes all of you are standing to leave. Cleaning just a little but after yourselves to not seem rude when the workers clean up.

“I never really got your name.” Mark suddenly shifts his attention to you as the three of you walk out to the parking lot. Its already afternoon, making the weather warm a little.

“I never really gave it.” You reply back. In your head, you justify your response by chalking it up to not really knowing the guy. Sure he’s Mark, Eve’s supposed friend. But what else? What happened to stranger danger?

Eve doesn’t seem to pick up on that, and or doesn’t share the same sentiment, enthusiastically coming in to respond for you. “Remember when I said I was busy tutoring someone? Yeah? Well they’re said someone.”

“You talked about me?”

“Well, just the good bits . . . !”

Shame, embarrassment, you wish the world could swallow you up right then and there.

But you steel yourself, making sure to not make eye contact helping avoid digging your already deep grave. “Better be, or ill tell him the time you tore a hole through the papers when-“

“Okay! Okay! I get it! I promise, it wasn’t anything bad!” Her flustered state makes you laugh, slowly warming up to the both of them.

“I heard you got a high score that one time, man I wish I did too. I kind of flunked the quiz.”

“Maybe you should ask them to tutor you. They’re kind of a math whiz now dontcha think?”

The wink wink nudge nudge could not have been any more subtle.

“Shut up.”

What happens next?

So many new things in your life changed and occurred, both terrifying and exciting.

One of them was being introduced to the friend group that seemed to be ever expanding the more times you hang out with them. William was a hoot, he felt like the most normal person you could relate to. Amber was ambitious, a kind person who already had her shit figured out. And Mark? Well, hes a dweeb and a mess.

Even though you’ve been adopted into the new stray friend, you always gravitated to Eve more. She was the first person you really bothered to hold more than one sentence with. Albeit a bit forced.

Then the whole human robots occurred, you wish you could say you were there to be of help or even lend a hand, but you were dead asleep for the most part. Too busy holed up in your dorm room with work to fully enjoy the almost-adult, adult life.

Then Mark reveals his super hero persona to you, and so does Eve.

“How many know?”

“Oh, hun.” Eve puts a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re like, the last person to know. Everyone in the group practically already know.”

“What.”

You feel bitter but view them no more or less. Only asking to be taken flying at least once by one of them in exchange.

“THIS IS AWESOME!”

“Calm down I might drop you!” Eve is not surprised nor all that glad you asked her first, but feels a bit cocky about it. Another tally on whose the best super between her and Mark. Not that anyone’s counting.

★彡

It seems the two can’t catch a break. Mark especially.

Everyone’s there for Mark after the whole incident, and to further supporting his now semi-fixed relationship with Amber.

You can sense something about Eve though, but don’t pry. The way she looks at the two or how she tries to just hang out with you more to ‘get her mind off of things’ at her tree house, it was quite the tell.

“You know you can tell me anything that’s bothering you, and I wouldn’t judge you. Right?”

Eve hands a glass of soda, bubbling from the carbon dioxide. She sighs and says nothing, only opting to lean and look at the view overlooking the place.

“I know.”

Despite not being a super or wicked smart, you’re not stupid. You are Eve’s only confidant, even if you don’t get it, you sympathize with her.

Its one thing after the other with Mark and Eve. Mark comes back home with a purple baby, Eve focuses more on her studies to be an architect, things get messed up, and the secrecy continues.

Mark doesn’t get too deep into it, only ever talking to Eve about topics as heavy as that. So many . . . Events has conspired. You’re helpless to do anything to help soothe the bleeding wound. Eve says Mark just needs time, but you both know it’s not true. So, being the ever so genius you are, you offer a sleep over.

It’s a much appreciated and comforting sentiment for the whole family, they’re not sure if they want to be alone after what had conspired. But they also say nothing, keeping their mouths zipped tight.

A movie starts to play, a few hours had already passed ever since you and Eve rang the doorbell. Everyone’s huddled up at the couch, with Oliver sat in Marks lap, now crawling to Eve before reaching you at the end of the couch.

“Looks like he likes you.” Mark sounds so tired when he speaks, it’s a lot more quiet than when he usually talks, but Eve only nods in agreement.

“Yeah, babies like me for some reason. Even if I’m not a fan. But I guess since it’s Oliver..” He pulls and tugs at your clothes in curiosity, before harshly sitting himself on your stomach to face the tv. You let out an ‘oof’, which Mark and Eve laugh.

The tv plays, but its practically static to Mark’s ears, as he speaks again.

“I broke up with Amber.”

★彡

Having to be the middle of the two sided coin, you were forced to listen to the two’s complaints about one another’s crush. You wish you could just pull your hair out to get some semblance of relief with how its eating at you alive. At least William knocked some further sense into him when Mark confided in them after asking you first.

Eve? Well, she was busy. Like always.

But it was Mark this, architect that, Mark and Oliver, all that fun jazz. You couldn’t visit as often as Eve could, so she’d like to give updates.

Sometimes you feel like they’re so close to getting there, so close, until you get caught between the two again at the treehouse, seeking some you and her time till Mark showed up.

Something something future Eve, something something oh my fucking god Mark you’re screwing this up!

They both leave due to an emergency, leaving you there isolated at the treehouse.

“Great, guess ill just jump down and walk my way to the campus then!” You shout to nobody in particular.

Its about time!

Finally, the two got together.

No party no celebration, nothing big or grand. Just a small text of congratdolences, because she had to deal with Mark foreverrrr. Until an inevitable break up. Which will never happen.

Their relationship started off a bit fast, a bit rocky, but still stable. Still being at college and not possessing super human abilities, you would often video call and or gossip to them when they had the time. Catching up a lot more on things everyone would miss out since it felt like everyone lived in on different worlds.

You’d make William join in too, considering besides Eve, you were really close. But oh goodness, oh my word, he got caught up talking to his dearly beloved Rick and therefore forgot to reply!

Okay that may be a little exaggerated, but what can you do? Separated by the three people you were super close with in the span of half a year, you were getting clingy.

“Ugh, Will come on. This is the third time we’re hosting a small food get together without you, you can even bring Rick!” You’d complain while lying on your stomach in front of your laptop. Toiling away at your textbooks.

“How’s it feel to third wheel with the super couple? And plus, its finally a friday! I haven’t gotten a break in what feels like ages. Me and Rick are planning on staying in and having a movie night and falling asleep on the couch.”

“Barf. Rick this, Rick that, blah blah blah. You were so interesting when you were single!”

“Well sorry you’re the only one who’s single in the friend group.”

“Hey!”

Maybe you were a third wheel. Constantly hanging around Eve and Mark whenever they’d offer or whenever you had free time, you felt embarrassed. Especially now that you’re helping them look for an apartment —or house even— that they could possibly afford.

Being an expert in assessing many things in your life, of course your help was well needed.

“What about this one?”

“Looks… well..” Mark squints at the photo, giving it a slight once over before pursing his lips. Arms brushing up against yours as he crosses his arms and legs in faux thought.

“I know, it’s tacky, right? But I didn’t know if that was your guys’ style.” You click away to another tab, showing the place and its living conditions, plus the added bonuses it has around the areas. Nearby markets, easy access to vehicles if wanted, and a bit isolated so they went get caught super-ing.

“You saying we’re tacky?”

Ignoring Mark’s comment to your right, you shift your attention to Eve. “How about this one?”

“It’s a bit too good to be true, hows the rent?” Eve sets down on Mark’s bed with a slight bounce, leaning over to your left to sandwich you with Mark.

“Yeah about that.” You suck in hair between your teeth and move the screen as an answer, and she merely scrunches her nose.

“Man. Adulting is hard.” Mark leans his head with a thud on his headboard, before it slowly slides to the side, hovering just slightly on your shoulder.

“Tell me about it. I had to pick between saving up for the ride home or saving the cash for food.” You reply absent mindedly, tapping away at the screen with an occasional click of the laptop’s track pad.

“Imagine if you guys had another human being to deal with while you’re still trying to get your shit together? Yikes.” Shaking your head at the thought of it, makes your bones heavy with fatigue.

But Mark and Eve look over to one another with a shared look of confusion. Another person? As in . . . You’re not implying that are you?

They take you back to your campus but not before saying bye to Oliver. Even though he was just a year old, he already grew as big as a toddler. Wanting to hang out with you despite barely talking or even knowing him. It was like a baby duckling imprinting.

But Mark and Eve can’t help but think about what you said on their way home. Another person? It seems like a bit much. No?

They were already quite content on having each other, they didn’t know if the other was comfortable about the prospect of it all. But wasn’t opposite to it either.

So for now, they’d decided to tip toe around it instead.

A puzzling piece

Ever since that visit, the two have been a lot more touchy feely with you.

You dont mind honestly, chalking it up to them being a lot more friendly towards you and nothing else. Nothing more.

William and Rick start to notice too, after finally having everyone’s schedules align once in a blue moon and going out to just have some fun. They’d practically crowd you like body guards, and William and Rick would just watch, snickering to one another.

At times you do get suspicious. Eve holding your arm as you walked was nothing new, but when Mark started to initiate more physical contact with you, you’d spiral.

Of course Mark was hot, hell, Eve was too! Those were simply just facts, your best friends were attractive as hell. Who doesn’t admit that to themselves from time to time? But theyre off limits. They have each other, and you’re just you! No offense.

You couldn’t help raise a questioning brow when Mark and Eve started sitting away from each other in exchange of you being in the middle of them. Bumping shoulders, arms brushing up, hands on your back, or hair tucked behind your ear. It felt overwhelming.

So you confide in William and Rick on their behavior, receiving cryptic responses rather than actual answers instead.

“Are Eve and Mark being weird?” You’d ask, passing over your bag of chips to Rick while sucking on your straw.

“I think they’re being very obvious.” William answers dismissively waving his hand.

“Obvious? About what?”

“Oh you know, right Rick?” And he just shrugs with an awkward smile in response.

“Well has Mark said anything? Eve’s just been . . . Normal, I guess? But feels like they’re keeping something from me too.”

“Yeah, sure. Ill tell you if Mark says anything. Wink wink.” William says out loud rather than literally.

“Okay?”

Seeing as they were no help, you finally grew some and talked to Eve about it privately. No Mark, no Atom Eve or Invincible, just you and her in the a lot sturdier and built treehouse of hers.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Well, no.”

You spill your guts out to her, not looking in her general direction the whole time so you can actually let out the words you want to say rather than awkwardly fumbling and mumbling to yourself.

It seems Eve feels the same way, opting to look out rather than meet your own gaze. Picking at her nails at the same time.

“Do you remember when you were helping us look for apartments to live in? Before we ditched that plan and decided not to?”

“Yes . . ?”

“Then you mentioned something about another person being in our lives?”

“Another person? Since when?”

“Since when you showed us that great place! But was too out of our budget.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Well we thought. . . You were . . .”

It takes a few moments for you to make sense of it all, till Eve reaches to hold out your hand and it clicks.

“I meant having a kid! You know, white picket fence and all that!” Your face is practically hot enough to cook an egg on with her admittance.

She clears things up before Mark pops up all of a sudden. Not taking the hint of yours and Eve’s current state and inviting himself in.

“Where were you? I texted you that an hour ago and I still had no response. I got worried.”

“Crap, I think I forgot to hit send.”

Mark gets caught up in the current news, and feels like he’s made a fool of himself. Him and Eve are silently but not very subtly having a conversation about you in loud hushed whispers. Their backs turned to you and they’re holding each other’s hand in reassurance.

“Im not—Im not opposed to it though.” You say quietly, a bit hesitant to break up their conversation.

“Really?” They say in unison, perking up like excited puppies.

“I mean! If you guys’ll have me, that is.”

“We’ve been flirting with you for the past couple of months, I think we’re more than happy to.”

“You’ve been flirting?!”

“Yes, for months.”

Maybe in the near future the three of you could live in that house you found, just the three of you.

a/n: ahh i kinda hate and love this but im done so whatever just take it from me TAKE IT

btw id love to hear your thoughts and questions about this or just invincible in general teehee! planning on writing more ;P

#mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #invincible show #invincible #eve wilkins #samantha eve wilkins #mark grayson x eve wilkins x reader #mark grayson x reader x eve wilkins #eve wilkins x reader mark grayson #News report!

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josephquinnswhore · 5 months ago

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Little bird - joel miller x female reader

summary: joel is a merciless hunter for sport, seeking many anew victim when he comes across you. who changes everything.

word count: 3.8k

content warning: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE CONSUMING. joel is basically a psycho? he kills for sport, control freak, stalking, murder, dubcon, age gap, power dynamic, manipulation, gaslighting, forceful face fucking, reader spews on Joel’s cock, blood play, forced proximity, m orgasm, fingering, m and f oral receiving, f orgasm, pet names such as; little bird, birdie, princess, daddy.

Joel had adapted to the outbreak effortlessly, without thought, like a bird jumping from its nest, like instinct. It is in his nature alike to theirs, to adapt through the conditions to ensure survival for their species without second thought for consequence. Even after what had happened to his daughter.

The instance of her unnecessary death had sent Joel spiral into this mindset, serial killing and torture. Not even out of necessity, supplies, he just found a sense of control in the act.

He is constantly covered in blood, his hands, neck and clothes all had stains on them. But he found comfort in the act of squeezing his large hands around someone’s frail neck, seeing the light fade from their eyes.

Paired travellers were his preference. The men always tried to be heroes, and Joel found it amusing that they always thought they’d beat him in battle, underestimating Joel's pent up rage and obsession for control. His strength is unmatched—survival skill and pure animalistic rage is channelled with each plea for mercy.

He’d seen many people around him change, good hearted folk who had clawed so far deep into the instinctual rage of strength and determination within themselves. Just so they had what it takes to survive this world.

But Joel—this darkness was raging inside of him before the outbreak, before any real need to access this side for survival had even come into play. With decades of experience, he had become skilled at stalking, especially. Observing.

Often he had thoughts about doing bad things to women and men that he acted out on. He couldn’t find a goddamn ounce of sympathy within himself as he hunted people, stalking his next victims through every state and terrain.

It was sport for Joel, a comfort as he realises that everyone’s life is in his hands, that he gets to decide who lives and dies. That he remained victorious. Too brutal and savage for anyone to defeat.

Notoriously good at what he did, he had more blood on his hands than probably anyone, finding the stalking as exhilarating as the kill.

It had never been anything more than that, until now.

Until he had seen you, two days prior.

He had taken one glance at you, and his feet of their own accord, had started trailing you. Following from a distance as the memorises the size and depth of your footprints in the snow. Since then, he’d been listening in on the two of you bickering about how lost you were, namely you—terrified about where you were, and where you were going.

Walking through the thick snowfall of the mountains, carrying that overloaded bag that made your shoulders sag. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d see your face crumble in pain as you try to adjust the straps of the bag, or beg the young man you traveled with to put some items into his own bag to take some weight off your shoulders.

Watching every interaction between you and this man from the past two days, he could conclude that he was your boyfriend. He hated this boy, the way he walked ahead of you, made you keep first watch after a gruelling day of travelling.

You don’t argue or seem to mind which Joel concedes is a product of this being a constant for you.

He gathers that more than likely, you didn’t understand how you were being taken advantage of. That this boy didn’t care about you, not the way he did.

The thought infuriated him, sending a rush of heat through his body as he clutched onto the falling bark of a tree he had hidden behind, observing you through the forest, the only thing that separates you from him, is a small clearance of flat ground to your small, makeshift camp.

A natural formation of a cave like structure made of rock. All you had to keep you warm was a freying sleeping bag and the arms of the boy wrapped around you.

Joel thinks about all the ways he’d take care of you. Giving you his thick, insulated winter coat, lighting a fire for you in his cabin. Keeping watch the entire evening so you could rest your fragile body.

The more he thinks, the more he fuels his own obsession. He wonders what your skin feels like under his own sinful ones, wonders what your cries would sound like, if you’d give into him or run.

For the first time in years, he doesn’t want to kill, he doesn’t plan on wrapping his thick hands around your neck to crush your oesophagus. He doesn’t think about reaching for his sharpened hunting blade and driving it to the hilt into the soft, warm flesh of your neck.

No, you were different. So pretty, so mistreated. He had to take care of you. Bring you into his warm hands like an injured bird in need of delicate care.

You’re exhausted beyond belief. The old boots you wear are barely holding together, even with the duct tape you’d wrapped around the collapsing soul, and even that was wearing off the front of the shoe.

You know you can’t risk sliding them off for a moment to dig your fingers into your heels to relieve the ache, in fear of infected, or people.

It’s not ideal to stop here, in the middle of the snowfall, freezing your asses off. You’re so lost, and afraid.

There’s a sense of bitterness rising inside of you as you watch your boyfriend sleep, you love him, with each beat of your heart… but you needed to sleep too. If only.

Hours pass of you staring into the clearance of trees and snow, of nothing. Not a bird, not a wisp of wind. The lack of anything happening only fuelled the burning in your dried eyes, lulling them to close, just for a moment.

You don’t know that you’d fallen asleep, standing upright against the tree you were keeping watch from until you’re awoken by a blood curdling scream.

Shaking you out of your slumber, you turn to see your boyfriend is gone from the makeshift camp.

A sense of dread buries itself deep into your skin.

“No.. fuck.. no! Jacob!” You cry out, ignoring the ache in your feet as you run back the way you heard the scream. Holding your handgun in front of you cautiously, there’s another scream.

But it sounds like it’s encircling you. Surrounding you from every direction.

“Jacob!” You scream back, tears welling your eyes.

This was your fault.

A spec of blood catches your eye, like a trail of a clue leading you to a horrific mystery. But you follow, urging yourself to run as you come to see your boyfriends body tied to a lonesome tree in front of a small nearby cabin.

“Jacob… Jacob it’s me,” your voice cracks, tossing your gun down onto the snow as you reach for the tightly knotted ropes that had him restrained against the tree. Jacob’s voice is muffled by a rope fastened into his mouth, keeping his head upright against the tree.

Despite his desperate attempts to warn you of the looming predator behind you.. it’s hopeless.

The blood has created a small pool around him, seeping into the snow. “I’m gonna help you okay? I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I’m gonna get you out of this.”

A sound behind you makes your fingers freeze in place around the rope, the familiar sound of the hammer of a gun being pulled back—ready to fire.

Frantically, you look to the ground and realise that your gun is no longer where you’d tossed it. The only evidence of it was a deep imprint in the snow.

A deep, southern voice carries strong through the short distance between you, sending a nauseating shiver down your spine. “Hands where I can see ‘em.”

You raise your hands above your head, kneeling on the ground, eyeing your boyfriend with tears in your eyes, mouthing to him with a tremble of your jutted bottom lip. “I’m so sorry.”

“Turn around.” The deep voice instructs.

Obeying, you turn your body towards your captor, on your knees with your hands still in a surrendering gesture. Eyes stuck on his shoes that were in much better condition than your own, practically new looking.

The cool metal of your own gun traces the shape of your chin, lifting your face upward to meet the gaze of an older man. His dark brown eyes shift as he takes in every feature of your face, committing every detail to memory.

You’re even prettier up close.

“Please don’t do this, I .. we don’t have anything to give. We’re starving as it is and our supplies are worn.” The plea goes ignored, but you’re desperate.

“I’ll do anything, just help Jacob, don’t let him die like this,” you beg, fat tears rolling down past your waterline.

So pretty when you cry. Those bright, big eyes begging him to help you. It’s exactly what he wanted.

“Oh? You’ll do anything will you?” Darkly, he chuckles. “Remember this promise, little bird.”

The man holds your gun in his hand and grabs at you, one hand grasping the back of your head and bringing it flush to his crotch, rubbing your soft face over the hard bludge of his cock.

A breathy moan escapes him at how you protest, the palms of your hands against his thighs attempt to push him away.

“Tss. Maybe you don’t care about your little boyfriend after all, do you?” He scolded you.

A dry sob slips past your cracked lips, seeming to give up against the harsh grip of the man. A twisted rumble from within his chest vibrates against your palms splayed on his jeans.

“Unbutton my jeans and take out my cock,” the older man sneers, in a means to humiliate you.

Your cold, trembling fingers work at the tight button, and it pops open with a sense of release as his stomach slightly overhangs the right fitting denim. The zipper is freezing—but you manage to keep your fingers pinched around the small zip enough to pull his jeans down to expose him.

More tears fall down your face as you fail to accept what was happening.

“Tell me you want this cock, little bird.”

At your silence, the man redirects the barrel of your gun to your boyfriend. “You think I won’t fucking shoot him again?”

With his booming, threatening promise of violence against Jacob, you utter nonsense.

“I want your cock,” voice cracked thickly as you force the words out.

The man growls in approval, bringing the gun back to you, tracing the barrel of the weapon against your lips in a tantalising threat.

“If you try anything, including biting.. I’ll blow your fuckin’ brains out princess.” The utterance through gritted teeth sends your blood cold.

He had no intention of actually killing you, but the way you were trembling beneath him was a good sign you believed it.

“Now be a good girl and swallow your daddy’s thick cock,” he hums, forcing the thick, blunt tip through your parted lips.

It burns, how far his cock has stretched your lips wide open, the intrusion so far deep into your mouth makes you gag around him, but that doesn’t deter him at all. Pushing further into your mouth, down the back of your throat.

“Fuck little bird, knew your mouth would take me perfectly.”

Tears, snot and saliva all accumulate at the base of his cock, urging his hand to force you closer to him. Holding his cock down your throat, legs trembling beneath him at the feel of you struggling, gagging against him and the palms of your hands frantically trying to push him out of your mouth so that you could breathe.

He pulls halfway out of you, and with that a small amount of bile from your throat coats his cock. Your mouth was so perfect, warm and stretched out for him. Taking him so well. Nothing deters this man from taking exactly what he’d dreamt of you these past two days.

The constant reminder of the gun pressed against your temple was forcing you to endure this. It would save Jacob, it would ensure survival for the two of you.

It hurts, the way he’s fucking himself into your throat relentlessly. The pace is brutal and each growl makes your stomach feel sick.

The worst part is that your body is reacting to this, the slick between your legs is gathering and becoming incredibly uncomfortable.

“Gonna swallow my cum, birdie, fuck.. can feel my cock down your throat.” He can see the thickness down your throat too, swollen full of him. He cums with a strangled groan, the sight of his cock twitching down your throat sent him over the edge.

“Such a good girl, ain’cha?”

You’re completely fucked out. Eyes blown wide and red from the tears you shed. He pulls his cock out of your mouth to trace the outline of your plump lips.

“Please let us go now,” the hoarse request is met with a twisted cackle.

The man stuffs his hard cock into his jeans, the outline of it is impossible to ignore as you look up at him with a pleading gaze.

You had done everything he’d asked, and perfectly too.

Which is why he had to do this.

“Sorry, birdie. But I can’t let you go now.”

He brings your gun upward to Jacob and pulls the trigger. Five pounds of pressure against the trigger causes your boyfriend's head to fall limp against the tree, a gaping, bleeding hole in the middle of his forehead.

“No!” Your voice cracks as a guttural scream tears through the air.

No part of your body is listening as you will it to move, for your legs to carry you to stand and run, but they’re numb from being knelt on the icy ground so long.

The man shoves you onto the soft, snow. Your head is right beside your lifeless boyfriend’s body. “Jacob.. Jacob please,” you beseech, hoping that he’d somehow be able to save you.

Your arms are flailing against his chest as he crawls on top of you, the weak attempt gains a thick hand down the front of your cargo pants, and a hot growl against your lips.

“Maybe I don’t need to clip your wings after all, birdie, seems this pretty fucking pussy is already wet. Don’t pretend to fight me, princess. She wants this.” Without warning, one thick finger pushes inside of your weeping cunny, before pulling it out.

A protesting whine rolls off your tongue as he removes his finger, before you could stop yourself. He sucks your juices off the digit. And his eyes darken.

“Been thinkin’ bout how this sweet pussy would taste, knew it would be perfect.”

The older man sticks the same finger that had just been inside you, into one of Jacob’s stomach wounds, coating his finger in the warm, red blood.

He thrives off the mortified expression that causes your face to scrunch up, wiggling as he brings the bloody finger down to your lips, forcing it into your mouth.

But as he retreats his finger past your lips it’s now stained red, albeit clean. But you reject it, gagging against the metallic taste, spitting the blood onto the snow in a messy spatter, some of it sticking to your cheek and chin.

“You’re sick!” A crooked smile stretches the man’s lips at your accusation.

“No, no little bird. This is exactly what you need. A real man to protect you, so that this..” he gestures to your boyfriend. “Doesn’t happen to you, I’m sure you don’t want that, do you?”

The condescending tone is lost on you as the griping reality of fear ensnares you.

Your throat aches at your attempt to swallow the saliva in your throat, bobbing thickly. The small notion of you shaking your head appeases him greatly.

“I’ll take care of you. All I ask is that you don’t run, or I will clip your wings, understand me little bird?”

A second nod seals your fate.

“Believe me when I say you made the right choice, you were comin’ with me either way.”

Turns out that the small, wooden cabin belonged to this man. He had kept his large hand on the small of your back the entire time he showed you around. His homestead was fully furnished with food, supplies, furniture, even toilet paper.

“This is where you’ll sleep.” He opens a door, and there’s no windows, just a bed. Accompanied by a giant lock on the outside of the door.

He wouldn’t need to clip your wings, if he could cage you in.

“Sit down,” he orders, and you obey, still in shock as your brain tries to swallow the past hour of events whole, not allowing you to process it.

The wooden stool creaks, and he silently fills a bucket of warm water and sits across from you on a chair at the dining table.

Delicately scrunching a small cloth in his hands to wipe the dried blood off of your face, he leans in toward you, an almost soft expression plastered as he concentrates.

“If you’re good f’me we’ll give that friend of yours ‘o proper burial. Would you like that?”

The sweetness of his voice lured you in, to stare into his deep brown eyes, to take in the concerned shape of his pinched brows.

“I.. I would like that.”

He hums, you were learning quickly. Once he’s happy with your face being cleaned, he stands, picking up the aluminium bucket by the handle and pouring it down the sink. Clunking as he sets it back on the floor.

“Let’s go bury him then.” Before he changes his mind.

The snow was too thick for Joel to penetrate the soil with his shovel, so he had just cleared a foot of snow and tossed the young man into it, burying him under the frost, stacking a few rocks on top of the unmarked, unnamed grave.

He’s impressed and grateful you don’t run away though the process. That would implicate some serious issues and more importantly, require some kind of punishment.

Joel was willing to do anything to train you, to ensure that you never ran from him. In that regard, since you did stay, he felt he would reward you.

His bed is warm, the duvet is thick and the smell of him brings a sense of security to you for some reason, despite all that had happened.

“When you appease me, as you have today. I’ll reward you.” He coos, gently lying you down onto his soft bed, crawling between your legs, hastily shuffling your pants down your legs.

His face is directly between your thighs, and he parts them softly.

“I can smell how badly you need me, little bird.” He groans, pressing hot, open mouthed kissed to your inner thighs, slowly, agonisingly closer to your core.

He’s surprised when you impatiently nudge the back of his head closer to you. “That’s my girl.”

The curve of his nose rubs against your swollen clit, his tongue darting upward and into your pussy with a newfound passion.

He growls against you, the notion sends a vibration through you, and you let out a soft whimper. Thick hands ground themselves in your hips, dragging you downward in the bed so his face could delve deeper into your hole.

The wet muscle is skilled in it’s explorative ministrations, licking a long stripe from your core to your swollen clit.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get some attention too.” The promise he utters to your neglected clit is fufilled as he clamps his mouth around the bundle of nerves and sucks on you, the pressure causes a suction that feels electric.

Your fingers stiffen as they grasp onto his unruly curls. Coaxing him for more, more more more.

And he gives—the tip of his tongue skilfully, slowly working you closer and closer to the edge you’d never been brought to before.

Your thighs instinctively clamp shut around his head, keeping him buried there, not wanting him to stop.

“Please, please, please need more,” your unintelligible begging implores him to double down on his ministrations.

He can feel that you’re going to burst against him, slowly, and slowly he was winding the burning hot coil inside of you, the pressure was becoming unbearable as your thighs quake and tenable at his command.

Two of his thick fingers are swallowed by your constricting cunt, clamping down as you cry out at the intense sensation. His fingers expertly work you, pumping deep inside of you, calloused fingertips hitting the spongey flesh inside of your slick hole.

“Fucking.. need you..” you’re slurring your words, and he’s convinced that your hole would swallow him if you pushed him far enough between your legs. He could feel how greedily your pussy was swallowing his fingers. Desperate for release.

In an act of desperation, you begin to forcibly rut your pussy against his face as you raise your hips, tiring of his pace not being quiet enough to give you what you needed.

“Please.. please I want to cum.. gonna cum..”

At the increase of friction, and him allowing you to use his face your orgasm comes crashing over you. Your pussy constricts around his fingers as he works you at a slower pace through your climax.

A delicious string of babbling moans and praise roll past your lips.

Thighs jittering with a delicious tremble as they finally relax from their tight vice around his head.

“Thank you.. thank you..” the faint, inarticulate cry was all he needed for him to grin against your pussy.

You’re left heaving, and he’s mesmerised by the way your chest rises and falls at his performance. It’s something he has become enticed with—seeing you alive. Breathing.

It’s unusual for him, admiring the life within you when he was so used to taking it.

And now, as he pulls away from your pussy, lying beside you in his bed. Your body in his arms.. he knew he’d made the right choice to keep your life.

“You did so well f’me little bird.” The praise falls on your ringing ears, but all that’s returned is a vulnerable whine.

Not bothering to correct him after a moment of silence, you can’t help the words that feel petulant to ask. “Who are you?”

“Joel. And this—is your new home.” He croons into your tangled hair.

All for a moment, in the blissful ecstasy you forget how you ended up here.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller oral #joel miller dark #joel miller hunter #dark fic #dead dove do not eat #smut

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cleoluvrr · 1 year ago

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notice me (rafe cameron x reader)

born too late for you to notice me

warnings: obsessive reader(she's delusional </3), explicit sexual content, unhealthy behavior, slight age gap

masterlist

your panties were soaking, the arousal leaking from your clothed slit creating a mess of the fabric. it clung to your skin uncomfortably, folds visible through the ruined undergarments. you wanted to rip them off, but rafe held them flush to your pussy as he licked a wet stripe over the drenched cotton.

he stared up at you from his position, blue eyes glowing with mischief as took in your impatient whines. his actions did nothing to solve your frustration. the barrier between his wet mouth and your throbbing cunt was only making you more desperate as the minutes ticked by. his fingers drawing circles over your swollen clit made your hips grind into his touch, the friction of the panties against the bud doing little to satisfy you.

“r-rafe, please…” a broken plea for him to end his incessant teasing left your throat involuntarily. your pussy had taken over your brain function, whatever clear thoughts you had now replaced with a primal need you’d never felt before.

"calm down," he murmurs, his tone tender and soothing. your knees were forced far apart, kept completely at his mercy each time he leaned in to attach himself to your pussy. “just enjoy it…”

you were tempted to push him away, but the hand you placed on the top of his head only pulled him in closer as you bucked your hips into his face. the texture of his tongue and the rough fabric in combination against your swollen lips was far too intense for you to handle, and yet, you still wanted more–needed more.

“y/n…” his voice was muffled below you, barely audible over your heavy breathing and the blood rushing through your ears. “y/n…” your mind was still in a distant place, thighs squeezing tightly around the sides of the blond’s head as he lapped up the arousal leaking through your panties.

“y/n!”

rafe’s voice was clear as day, the fogginess of your brain dissipated as your friend’s older brother stared at you in annoyance. your eyes widened in realization before blinking away the lusty haze that coated them. heat traveled up your chest rapidly to reach the soft flesh of your cheeks. swallowing dryly, you hummed in response, not trusting yourself to use your real voice.

“jesus, kid, what’s your problem? you can’t hear?”

“sorry, i was…” you blinked at the man on the other side of the kitchen island, his cold eyes leaving a trail of goosebumps over your arms. “sorry..w-what’d you say?”

the years-long crush you had on your best friend’s older brother only increased tenfold the longer you two were in proximity to each other. you thought that it would go away after freshman year of high school, but you were far from correct. your first year at college had just ended, months filled with new parties, new faces, and new boys to become attached to.

you were certain that you’d get over rafe this time, and yet, here you were. home for the summer and daydreaming about…things you’d never say aloud.

it was hard not to. no matter how many times you told yourself it was wrong, you just couldn't help but let your mind drift when he was around. the smell of his cologne was intoxicating, and the way he carried himself made your thighs squeeze together instinctively.

he was just so...rafe.

rubbing his eyes frustratedly, he sighs. rafe was never one to have patience for anyone and it was clear to you that he was running low from interacting with a barely-there you. while the oldest cameron always had a bit of a soft spot for you, it still didn’t take much to push his buttons.

“i said get out, my friends are coming. i don’t want you around them.” rafe says firmly. he leans against the kitchen counter, eyes no longer boring into you as they were a few seconds ago. his fingers tap rhythmically against his phone screen, presumably texting the friends that were supposed to appear sooner or later. when you don’t move from your spot by the kitchen’s island, his head pulls up to meet your puzzled gaze once again. “you didn’t hear me? leave.”

your brows knit together lightly in confusion. rafe had never taken issue with you being around his friends before. granted, you’d never been around them alone. sarah had always been there, and it was never on purpose. any time you were around when his friends came over, rafe would never really give time for them to speak to you before pulling them away. kelce and topper were nice enough from what you’d experienced with the two of them, so you couldn’t understand what the issue would be.

sarah stepped out with ward for something a while ago, leaving you all by yourself in the house with rafe until the two of them returned. you stood from your seat on the barstool to make your exit but stopped before you could get too far. facing him again, you opened your mouth to speak.

“why?” you asked the older blonde curiously. his eyebrow twitched in annoyance, but that didn’t deter you from questioning the order. “do they not like me?” ‘do you not like me?’ is what you really wanted to say, but you bit your tongue to refrain from it. you were too scared of what the answer might be.

rafe chuckled dryly as he shook his head at you, hand reaching up to comb through his golden locks. pushing off the counter, he walked around to meet you where you stood. the way he stared down at you left you feeling a bit startled, the pair of heavy blue eyes drinking in every inch of your frame indiscriminately. it was difficult for you to remain calm with him looming over you like that.

you nearly jump out of your skin when he places a hand on your shoulder and spins you around roughly. it caught you off guard but you didn’t stumble, instead you made a sound of protest at the sudden contact. you could feel the heat of his gaze against your back and if your face could get any hotter, it would. the puff of his warm breath against your ear is what made you jump, but rafe’s chest against your back made you freeze in place.

the feeling of his hand traveling down your shoulder blades, the dip of your back, and the curve where your waist meets your ass left your skin covered in goosebumps and the palms of your hands uncomfortably clammy.

you’d been hanging out with sarah for the three weeks that you’d been home, and each day you meticulously planned your outfits just in case rafe happened to be around. the oversized sweatshirts had been packed up in the back of your family’s garage and the breasts you’d been hiding since you got them were finally free of the skin tight sports bras you used to strapped them down all those years. the shortest skirts you owned were being put to work the entire summer until something came to fruition.

“do they not like me?” he repeats in a mocking tone. “kid–y/n…that’s not the problem.”

“rafe!” you exclaimed. the feel of his strong hand reaching under the hem of your skirt left you shocked, jaw slack with disbelief. you were worried about what he would find under there if he reached too far, the dampness of your panties enough to leave them sticking to your skin and able to expose you if he were to accidentally brush against them. “what are you doing?” your imagination had left you feeling indecent and hot, and you wished you would have left the room when you had the chance to spare yourself the embarrassment.

relief washed over you at the feeling of him tugging the fabric of your skirt down to cover as much of the exposed skin as the material would allow. you could hear him kiss his teeth as it barely covered the tops of your thighs, the fold of your ass almost visible anytime you weren’t standing completely still.

the sound of the front door opening filled your ears, topper and kelce’s loud voices traveling through the empty house as they called out for their friend.

“go upstairs. now.” rafe pushes you away roughly and you waste no time shuffling out of the room.

his eyes were glued to you until the moment you left, the feeling of his ocean blue orbs burned into your skin as your nike-clad feet padded against the old floorboards. your heart was beating firmly against the bones in your chest and you could still feel the way his warm hands were so close to somewhere they shouldn’t ever be, but where you wish they could stay forever.

when you reached sarah’s room on the upper floor of the mansion, you finally released the silent scream that you’d been holding in since rafe first walked into the kitchen.

you’d felt him watching you the entire time, his eyes raking over your frame as you stared down at your phone pretending that you couldn’t tell. you knew sarah had plans with her dad today but you insisted on coming over anyway, claiming that you didn’t want to miss a single day with her this summer. you knew rafe would be here too, because that was the first thing sarah warned you of before she left you alone with her brother.

you spent months–years–doing whatever it took to get his attention without completely throwing yourself at him like you so badly wanted to. the last thing you wanted was to come off as the desperate, embarrassing best friend, but you had to do something to stand out amongst all the other rich, pretty, older girls that flocked to him everywhere he went.

he was the kook prince, and you were just his little sister’s friend. it was hard for you to get him to see you any other way.

when you came home for summer break, you had a plan. your days were meticulously planned around him, which definitely sounded insane, but after years of pining you couldn’t find it in you to care.

the local goodwill took in all your old clothes during the winter to make room for your new wardrobe. you learned how to do your makeup, lost the contacts, and opted for consistent manicures rather than the brittle nubs for nails you had your entire childhood. months worth of confidence lessons on youtube, manifesting, and subtle flirting practice with the boys at your university were going to pay off this summer.

it had to.

the kid he was used to was gone. the nail biter with chunky black glasses, a stutter, and old band shirts had been banished and in her place was the improved version of you. the one that planned her outfits a day in advance, always had french tips, and could hold eye contact without stumbling over every word like it was her first. you walked with a sway in your hips and showed off parts of your body that nobody except sarah and yourself knew you had.

you refused to be the awkward, nerdy kid anymore. things had to be different this time–and they were.

when presented with the opportunity to be alone with rafe cameron, you took every measure possible to get his attention without begging on your hands and knees. for nearly a month you tried to be as lowkey as possible; pretending to not care if he was there or not, ignoring him completely when you two were in the same room, flirting with other guys when rafe was in hearing distance–whatever it took. it was tiring, but you couldn’t give up–not after all these years.

staring at yourself in the full body mirror propped against the sarah’s wall, you smiled and took a step closer to examine yourself. rafe finally saw you. he called you ‘kid,’ but he finally saw you as something more than that. you were finally one step closer to your silly little daydreams becoming reality.

“he noticed me…” you whispered to yourself.

he finally fucking noticed.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #outer banks #obx1 #obx2 #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction

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leriexoxo · 12 days ago

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Shh! Dont Tell Anyone…

Pairing: Stepbrother! Felix x Reader

Tags: Smut, 18+ mdni, forbidden sex, breeding, creampie, masturbating, voyeurism, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, risky situation, step siblings

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: She thought she was alone when she slipped her hand under the sheets—fumbling, quiet, curious. But her stepbrother heard everything from the other side of the wall. And when he finds her in the middle of it, doing it all wrong, he offers to help… just once. To show her how to feel good.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

Literally.

Or figuratively.

You squirmed beneath your sheets, biting your lower lip as your fingers fumbled between your thighs for the hundredth time tonight. Every article you read made it sound so simple—“just relax, find your rhythm, listen to your body.” And yet here you were, frustrated, flushed, and… failing.

A quiet whimper slipped past your lips before you could stop it. The kind that was half-plea, half-defeat. You didn’t know someone was walking past your door right at that moment.

You definitely didn’t know the door was cracked open.

“Y/N?”

The voice was soft, confused. Familiar.

You froze—wide-eyed, deer-in-headlights frozen—as Felix stepped just into the frame, his brows furrowing slightly. He was dressed in his usual oversized hoodie and sweats, earbuds dangling from his neck, tousled blond hair still slightly damp from his shower.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping closer. Then he paused. His eyes dipped.

And you knew. You knew the second his expression changed. The realization clicked behind his eyes like a light switch flipping on.

Felix blinked, his voice suddenly lower. “Were you…?”

Your heart nearly exploded in your chest.

“FELIX!” you screamed, yanking the blanket up to your chin as if it could erase what he’d just seen. “GET OUT!”

His eyes widened like saucers as he instinctively turned around, hand flying up to shield his face—as if that would help after the full two seconds of eye contact with your very naked soul.

“I—I didn’t know the door was open!” he stammered, still not looking at you. “I heard something—I thought you were hurt or crying or something!”

You buried your face in your pillow, wishing it would swallow you whole. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing…”

“I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to—” He hesitated, still facing away. “Were you… trying to—y’know…?”

Silence.

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t have to.

He let out a slow, shaky breath, his voice quieter now. “It’s okay. It’s… natural. Everyone does it.”

Your head snapped up. “Not everyone sucks at it.”

He turned slightly, just enough for you to catch the side of his face. “You were… having trouble?”

You bit your lip, looking away. “I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s never… worked. Not really.”

Another pause. The air was thick now. Electric. You could feel something shift, subtle but unmistakable.

Felix cleared his throat. “I mean… I could show you. If you want.”

Your stomach dropped. Your breath caught in your throat.

“What?”

He finally turned around, his cheeks red, jaw clenched like he was fighting himself with every word.

“I—I shouldn’t even be saying this. You’re my… you know. But I saw the way you were touching yourself and…” He glanced at you, eyes darker than before. “You’re doing it all wrong.”

Your throat was dry. “So you were watching.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “But once I did—I couldn’t not. And I just—look. If you want me to leave, I will. But if you want help…” He reached up, slowly brushing his fingers across his bottom lip, like he was imagining how you’d taste. “I can show you how to make it feel good. For real.”

You stared at him, heart thumping, body on fire, mind screaming no but your lips whispering—

“…show me.” Your voice was barely a whisper.“Please…”

That one word shattered the last bit of restraint in Felix’s eyes.

His jaw flexed as he took a slow, deep breath, like he needed to anchor himself before doing something he couldn’t take back. And yet, his touch was impossibly gentle as he stepped forward and knelt beside your bed.

“Okay,” he murmured, voice low and velvety. “I’m gonna touch you. But if you want me to stop… you just say the word, yeah?”

You nodded quickly, too dazed and needy to speak. He wasn’t just offering help—he was offering worship.

Felix reached for the edge of your blanket. His fingers brushed your trembling hand where it gripped the fabric tight around your chest. “Can I…?”

You swallowed hard. “Y-Yeah.”

He pulled the blanket down slowly, inch by inch, eyes locked on your face the entire time to catch even the tiniest flicker of discomfort. But when your bare skin was revealed, glowing soft in the low light of your bedroom, he paused—stunned.

“Fuck…” he whispered. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your cheeks burned, but there was no time to be shy—not with the way his fingers were sliding up your inner thigh, slow and warm and careful, sending sparks all the way up your spine.

“Relax,” he murmured, settling between your knees. “Just breathe.”

You tried.

You really tried.

But then his thumb brushed over your clit.

You gasped—a soft, high sound—and Felix looked up immediately.

“That feel okay?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes…”

His eyes darkened. “Good girl.”

His touch grew more confident. He rubbed slow circles into your clit, experimenting with pressure, adjusting the rhythm each time you gasped or whimpered or arched your back. The tension in your belly coiled tighter, and it hadn’t even been a minute.

“See?” he whispered, lips curling. “You don’t need to press so hard or go so fast. Let it build…”

Then he flicked your clit lightly—once, twice—and your thighs jerked.

“Oh my god—Felix!”

He groaned under his breath at the sound of your voice, low and desperate like music in his ears. He leaned in close, eyes locked to your face as he pinched your clit gently between two fingers.

Your hips bucked, and he had to hold you down with a firm hand on your thigh.

“Shhh… you like that, baby?” he asked, his voice hot against your neck. “You’re so fucking sensitive. So responsive.”

You were panting now, your legs trembling, every nerve in your body focused on that one point of contact. The pleasure built like pressure in a bottle, and you could feel yourself getting closer.

And just as your whimpers turned into gasps—he stopped.

“Wait.”

Your eyes flew open. “W-Why?”

Felix brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them slowly, humming around the taste.

“I need to ask,” he said, voice rasping like sandpaper and velvet. “Do you want my fingers?”

You blinked at him, dazed. “Yes.”

“Really want them, baby? It might stretch a little at first, but I’ll go slow.”

You nodded frantically, hips already arching toward him. “I want it. I want you.”

Felix smiled, warm and wicked, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to your inner thigh. “Good girl.”

He eased one finger inside, gentle and patient, curling it slowly as your body adjusted. You whimpered—more from the intensity than discomfort—and he moaned at how tight you were around just one of his fingers.

“So fucking tight… and this is just one.” He kissed your thigh again. “Can I give you another?”

“Please…”

He slid in the second finger, scissoring them slightly before curling up—just so. Your back arched instantly.

“There she is…” he murmured, fingers stroking that perfect spot deep inside you while his thumb returned to your clit. “You’re dripping, baby. You feel that?”

You were lost in it—your body writhing, thighs trembling, mouth open in helpless moans. But just before the orgasm could crash over you, Felix slowed down, pulling back slightly.

You whimpered, breathless and wrecked. “Why’d you stop—?”

“I want to use my mouth,” he said, voice suddenly low and hungry. “Can I taste you?”

Your eyes widened.

He kissed your knee softly. “Please, sweetheart. Let me use my tongue to make you fall apart.”

His words echoed in your ears, thick with promise.

“Let me use my tongue to make you fall apart.”

You nodded desperately, your voice broken and breathless.

“Please… please, Felix. I want it—I want your mouth so bad—”

He grinned, that cocky, smug little smirk you’d normally roll your eyes at—except now, it had your thighs clenching.

“Say it again,” he whispered as he kissed down your inner thigh, “Beg for me.”

You whined, biting your lip hard before gasping, “Please eat me out, Felix—please, I need it, I’m so close, I want your tongue—I need you.”

That did it.

Felix didn’t hesitate. He buried his face between your thighs like he was starved, tongue sliding through your soaked folds with a long, sinful groan. He licked you like you were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted—slow at first, dragging his tongue flat and firm, then focusing in on your clit with a rhythmic flick that had your whole body jerking.

Your hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft blond strands as you moaned shamelessly. “Felix—fuck—don’t stop—”

He moaned against your pussy, the vibration shooting through your core like lightning, and his fingers pushed back inside you—two of them, curling deep, hitting that sweet spot like he’d mapped your body himself.

It was overwhelming—his fingers working you open from the inside, his tongue relentless on your clit, switching from flicks to gentle sucks that had your legs trembling on either side of his head.

Your climax was right there—close, desperate, building too fast to stop.

“I—I’m gonna—Felix—!”

He didn’t stop.

He sucked harder, fingers curling faster, coaxing you right over the edge.

You screamed, hips bucking, thighs squeezing around his head as the orgasm tore through you like a wildfire. It hit in waves, crashing and crashing until you were trembling under him, panting, flushed, soaked.

He only pulled back when your hips twitched from overstimulation, licking his lips slowly like he’d just finished a gourmet meal. “Taste even better than I imagined.”

Your vision was fuzzy, your body limp. “I… I can’t…”

Felix smirked. “Yes you can, baby. You’re not done.”

You blinked up at him. “What…?”

He leaned over you, his hand sliding up your thigh, slow and teasing, before his thumb pressed softly against your clit again. Your breath hitched.

He kissed your cheek, then your jaw, then whispered into your ear, “You said you needed me, right?”

You nodded frantically. “Yes—God, yes—”

“What do you need, baby?”

Your hands grabbed at him, desperate, half-sobbing as you said, “I need to feel you—inside me. Please, Felix. I wanna be full—I need your cock, I need all of you—”

Felix groaned so deep it rattled in his chest.

He reached down, tugging his sweats low just enough to free himself—already hard, thick, flushed, the tip wet with arousal. He stroked himself once, twice, watching you squirm and bite your lip, totally gone for him.

“You want this?”

“More than anything.”

He lined himself up at your entrance, rubbing the head through your slick folds, watching your body react—needing it.

Felix pushed in slowly, carefully, watching every flicker of expression on your face as your walls stretched around him.

“Fuuuck,” he hissed through his teeth. “You’re so tight, baby. Taking me so good…”

You moaned beneath him, your fingers clawing at his shoulders, the burn of the stretch deliciously intense. He was thick, the kind of full that made your body feel claimed in the most dangerous, beautiful way.

“Is it too much?” he asked, pausing halfway, his voice shaking with restraint.

You shook your head quickly, gasping. “No—don’t stop—keep going—I want all of it—”

He groaned like it hurt to hold back. “Shit. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Then he slid in the rest of the way, inch by inch until he bottomed out inside you. The fullness made your breath catch in your throat, your walls fluttering around him in pure overstimulated ecstasy.

You whimpered. “So deep…”

He leaned down, nose brushing yours, lips ghosting over your mouth. “You feel me, baby? All the way in?”

You nodded, moaning. “Yes—fuck—you’re so deep…”

He started to move. Slow at first—so slow—pulling out just enough to make you ache, then rolling his hips forward again with a steady rhythm that made you feel every inch.

Your nails dragged down his back. “Faster—please—don’t hold back—”

That broke something in him.

Felix gripped your thighs and slammed into you, hips snapping forward with a force that punched the air from your lungs. Your back arched, toes curling as the wet slap of skin on skin filled the room.

“Oh my God, Felix—”

He was gone. Filthy. Animalistic. His hand grabbed your jaw, tilting your face up as he fucked into you like it was the last thing he’d ever do.

“You feel that?” he growled, his voice rough, wrecked. “This is what you needed, isn’t it? To be stretched, filled—fucked properly?”

You could barely breathe, barely think—his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside you, your clit throbbing from how hard he was driving into you.

“Yes—yes—yes—Felix, don’t stop—”

He reached down, thumb finding your clit again, rubbing fast tight circles that made your whole body spasm under him.

“You’re gonna come again,” he said, breath hot against your ear. “You’re gonna cream all over my cock, aren’t you, baby? Gonna let your stepbrother fuck it out of you like you were made for me?”

You sobbed, hips grinding up to meet him. “I’m so close—don’t stop—please don’t stop—”

“I won’t, baby,” he whispered, voice dark with lust. “You’re mine now. I’ll fuck you anytime you want—just say the word.”

The pressure exploded.

You screamed as your second orgasm ripped through you—louder, harder, messier than the first. Your body seized, pulsing around him, squeezing him so tight he cursed and stuttered in his thrusts.

“Shit—fuck—I’m gonna—”

“Do it inside,” you begged. “Please—fill me up, I want it, want all of you—”

That sent him over.

Felix groaned deep in his chest, his body shuddering as he buried himself to the hilt and came, hot and thick, spilling inside you with twitching, jerking thrusts as he clung to your body like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

You were both a mess—sweaty, breathless, completely ruined.

He collapsed on top of you, still inside, still twitching, his face buried in your neck.

“Holy… fucking… shit.”

You giggled softly, still shaking, still stretched, filled, wrecked.

Felix hadn’t pulled out yet. He stayed inside you, forehead pressed to yours, both of you breathing heavy like you’d just sprinted through hell and back—together.

The room was quiet now. No more gasps or skin slapping or whispered filth—just the sound of your racing hearts and the electric silence crackling between you.

Then—

“…We shouldn’t have done that.”

His voice was quiet. Almost broken.

Your heart seized.

You didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to lose the warmth of him, the way his body fit against yours like he’d always belonged there. But he was right.

He was your stepbrother.

Felix slowly pulled out, and you winced at the overstimulation, the sudden emptiness. His cum spilled out of you onto the sheets, warm and wet and utterly damning.

You stared at the ceiling. “We just… we just did that.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, raking a hand through his hair, still out of breath. “Fuck. Fuck.”

You couldn’t stop yourself.

“I don’t regret it.”

He turned his head slowly, eyes wide—surprised. “You… don’t?”

You sat up, pulling the blanket over your bare chest, heart thudding.

“I know it’s wrong. I know we’re not supposed to want this, or each other. But Felix…” Your voice broke, heat rising in your face. “That was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He stared at you for a long, long moment. Then his lips curled, not quite a smirk—something softer. Sadder. Like he knew the truth of what you were both tangled in.

“I don’t regret it either,” he said. “But this—us—whatever that was…” He shook his head. “We can’t be anything. You know that, right?”

You nodded. “I know.”

“But I still want you.”

You looked up, eyes locking.

The air snapped.

It was dangerous. It was filthy. It was forbidden.

And you both wanted it again.

Your voice was barely a whisper. “Then take me again.”

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Authors note: This is downright filthy 😂 i’m sorry but i’m not sorry!

I know you liked it so make sure to reblog and drop that like babes!

#skz imagines #felix yongbok #felix fluff #felix angst #felix smut #felix drabble #felix x reader #felix imagines #stray kids felix #felix #skz felix #step brothers #straykids imagines #straykids smut #felix fanfic

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empty-vessel-of-a-person · 8 months ago

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How I Envision "Intimate Time" with the LaDS Boys be like.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Zayne

The Sensual Partner.

I feel like Zayne is a very sensitive and emotionally attached person so being able to connect with him through mind and soul is the best way to get him stimulated.

I never see him as the one who will inflict pain in his partner in any way. He is to gentle for that.

He will always tends to your needs first before his own. We have seen this on Hidden Motive. He did lose control of himself and become "intense" as M/C describe him. But in the end, even if he is clearly still in need, he asks M/C if what he is allowed to do.

He is the type to enjoy the goosebumps forming in your skin whenever he touch or kisses you.

He always listen to you. No plea or request will make it pass his ears and he would always deliver what you ask

He would always whisper his thank you (Zayne's Translation: I Love You) (F.U. Astra!!!!) when you both finish.

Sylus

The Intense Partner

This guy is rough. We all know that. The manhandling and almost stalker-ish behavior he have when it comes to you is all the proof we need.

He also is the type of partner who will make you experience different and new type of high.

He is confident and know what will make your body tremble for him.

He is also type of partner to takes pleasure from your pleasure. Don't get me wrong, all the boys are like this. But unlike Zayne, who takes pleasure from your equal needs for each other, Sylus on the other hand, take it from your pleasure alone. The more happy you are the more satisfied he gets.

He is the type of partner, who will leave marks on you on visible area of your skin.

He is also a type of partner to whisper "lewd" things to your ears and not be ashamed of it.

But no matter how rough he is, he will always cuddle you after you both finish.

Xavier

The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing.

We can all agree that the soft-spoken Xavier is a predator in bed. To say I am shocked on his No Restraint card is an understatement. That sweet thigh-nuzzling to unexpectedly throwing you to bed is shocking yet so hot.

Xavier longs for you and that's why I think he jumps to every opportunity to touch you and go so feral about it.

He is the king of roleplay. I bet with the right coaxing, he will do whatever you want or be whatever you like him to be. We have seen this in several occasion and the most recent is on Mystic Adventures in Misty Invasion Event.

I bet that he is a very passionate lover and will definitely takes his time on getting you prepared and worship your body especially your legs.

Since Xavier doesn't talk much, he most likely show his affection by cuddling and touching. Teasing you with his soft feather like touches that leaves you breathless.

Rafayel

The Pure Partner

He is so pure hearted I could cry. Somebody pointed this out and my big shoutout to you because I can't remember where I read it. We have to remember that Rafayel is a Lemurian. What maybe something that is normal for us in the art of intimacy, may something new for him and this made him unsure or shy about being intimate.

I feel like it will be your duty to give him in the art of intimacy. We know how much he can blush and even that kiss on tub gives me a feeling that he really wants it to happen but is unsure how to do it.

I feel bad for him that we've been so intense with him during the Misty Invasion event. If my understanding is correct, he is quite sad because of his old friend. That guy must be important for him and although we are oblivious of his significance to Rafayel, we should have been more sensitive.

And speaking of sensitive, I feel like Raf is a hyper-sensitive one. Every touch we give, every emotion we pour on him magnifies 10 fold if not a thousands.

He really wants us for him to wait 800 years and during that time, i bet he's not been with anyone and then suddenly we are going feral on him (well who can't be? hehehe)

But imagine this, you taking the lead for him and guiding him to what makes you both reach that pleasure. Slowly slides your hands from his shoulders, torso, and pelvis while whispering to him "you're doing great" and he will moan for you.

Full disclosure: I am a Zayne Girlie but Rafayel's bedroom voice can make me sweat. He knows how to use his voice (A true merman!!!!) to lure you in. (Kudos to his wonderful duber!!!!)

And lastly and the most important thing that I love about Rafayel, is how he is always available and ready for you no matter how unsure he is.

#love and deepspace #zayne #xavier #rafayel #sylus #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #lnds #l&ds

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animeyanderelover · 1 month ago

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Tw: Yandere Themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, controlling behavior, manipulation, isolation, death

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz @jamayah @hyakki-yosai @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59

Little sister is like Janet from The Good Place

Sebastian Michaelis

🐈‍⬛It is rather unusual for demons of the same lineage to be so attached to each other. However, to not be disgraced by you there was little choice Sebastian saw himself having. Your entire existence goes against everything his kind should stand for so to help you find your way back to the roots of your existence, Sebastian has taken it upon himself to take you under his wings. His plans to teach you the ways of a demon fail terribly though for you are a being so friendly and willing to help that it is uncanny. For all the powers that you hold it is nothing short of a waste for you to use it all only to help others. To make things only worse you have no morales nor limits as you help anyone you have a contract with. The quality of their souls is of no importance to you, only the willingness to help counts. No matter how disgraced you are by your masters or how terribly someone takes advantage of you, you keep your cheerful and friendly demeanor. Do you intend to shame your own kin and blood? Sebastian has seen himself forced more than once to kill off your clients to spare him and you only more shame. He is hoping for anger from your side yet instead he is met with the same friendliness.

🐈‍⬛You cannot protect yourself from others despite being a demon so your older brother eventually takes that role. Sebastian starts to keep you close and isolated for you would jump at a chance to help someone even if it were to commit a crime. Your entire existence is better to be kept a secret for otherwise you would only give and give without taking. He wonders how the very essence of your being can be so different as a demon is supposed to take and satisfy their own desires. Even Ciel innitially doesn't know of your existence as Sebastian keeps it a secret from him. Only much later does the young Earl figure out that Sebastian has a sister though only with great doubt. After all Sebastian and you are like the sun and the moon. You couldn't be more different. Interactions are kept short though as Sebastian wouldn't want his young master to even consider taking advantage of you. The subtle threats he allows to slip out when Ciel remotely hints at wanting you on his side tell as much. Who knows, maybe Sebastian will one day make a contract with you himself to ensure that throughout eternity no one shall ever take advantage of your kindness. After all a contract binds.

Ash Landers

▫️What terrible twist of fate it is for Ash to be torn away from his little sister. As he is banished down to the realm of the sinners and the mortals you stay in heaven, serving the souls of the good people. None of them deserve your kindness though. For Ash you have always symbolised the perfect version of a being. Kind, warm and without a single flaw. Yet you are being tarnished by the greed of everyone, used for their own selfish purposes yet you are too helpful to reject their pleas and prayers. Nothing could have his heart weeping more. You deserve more than what you receive yet you don't know better. After all your entire life you have served people and fulfilled them their wishes, have been lied to. Everyone deceives you yet as your older brother it is his heavenly duty to protect you from all the evil and harm that comes your way. Heaven may have separated him from you yet that shall never blind him from his duties handed to him the moment you appeared in this world as his younger sister. Even whilst he is forced to mingle with the vermin on earth he shall show you his devotion and remind you that he will never forget you. No amount of distance can ever change that.

▫️He shall set the city of London on flames for you and pray that you will see the fire even up there on the clouds. He shall erase all those souls who would only cling to you like leeches once they ascend to the sky for none of them deserve to be there where you are. During his time on earth he wants humans to know you and to respect you so through the Queen as his puppet he starts a new religion featuring you. Churches and shrines are build in your name and image yet only few of them stand the testament of his perfectionistic gaze. If something isn't perfect it is undeserving of carrying your name. Do you see it all even whilst both of you are separated from each other? Do you see how tirelessly he works to create a place worthy of you? The distance between the two of you always pains him yet there are moments where the agony is especially prominent. Hasn't he already failed as an older brother already? After all siblings should stick together yet here he is, unable to reach you. From his place on earth he is unable to protect you from all the greedy and selfish people who lie to your face and use you for their own schemes. He may never be able to make this up to you once both of you are reunited as family.

Claude Faustus

🕷️Claude has never had any intentions of taking you in. In fact he was unaware that he even had a younger sister from the same parents yet one day you are given to him. Your entire existence is a shame for your kin and no one wants to take you in and teach you the ways of the demons. So either you are going to be killed or Claude will do the job as he is from the same blood as you. There is no thrill he can find in his heart yet the shame of being associated with someone weak like you fuels his decision to take you in. You cannot die and taint his reputation forever amongst others of his kind. It is this mix of frustration and annoyance that leads him to be very harsh and cold to you. Cruelty is perhaps the method he chooses to raise you with yet it doesn't quite work as he has hoped it would. Your behavior stays the same. It almost disgusts him to see a demon from his bloodline to be so kind and willing to help. You offer your services to anyone without demanding everything in return and it has his skin crawling. You will not embarrass him so Claude never allows you to have a contract. Even if you were to make one your master wouldn't last long, murdered by Claude's hands.

🕷️The extreme isolation you are put through comes to no surprise as Claude eventually labels you as unable to survive on your own. Demons are lonely creatures by nature unless they find their true mate so it is rare for a pair of siblings to stick together. What other choice does he have though? You would only ruin his own name if he were to let you go and his attachment plays another crucial role. You would simply not survive out there without him. More than once he uses condescending or very belittling words to coax you into listening to him and doing as he says. Never have you taken it as an insult though as if incapable of feeling angry or sad at all. Alois is never going to find out about you as he would most likely only bully you and abuse you like the other butlers in the household. If that were to happen Claude would consider his contract with the young master done as he would never allow anyone to lay a single finger on his younger sister. He doesn't often show his bond to you though as he sees it as very needed to be the composed and cold brother to cancel out your own warmth and kindness. He is a proper demon after all, territorial first before anything else.

Chrollo Lucilfer

📖From the youngest age on Chrollo has always been forced to protect you. Even before both of you learned how to use Nen and received your special abilities your kindness made you an easy target in Meteor City. You are a lamb under a flock of wolves who are always waiting to sink their teeth into your innocent being. The only thing sparing you from those experiences is Chrollo who has always been a shield to protect you. He is indeed a true older brother and that identity that comes with it has always given him a sense of order in a life where his existence has been unwanted from the moment he was a toddler. Some of hid oldest friends who are now also part of the Phantom Troupe have viewed you at times as nothing but a burden back in those days. Survival of the fittest is after all a concept that is all too true in Meteor City and it is clear that without Chrollo's protection your light would be snuffed out quickly in a place filled with outcasts and violence. Yet Chrollo has never thought once about abandoning you. After all you are all that he has and vice versa. Family should stick together and he will not allow one of his cherished people to be left behind to be torn apart.

📖Your Nen ability is one of the strongest and most treasured in the entire Phantom Troupe. Yet just like your entire existence to the world outside it is shrouded and speculations and mysteries.To the troupe as well as to Chrollo you are the personification of a treasure that is priceless and for that would never be given away. Over the years everyone has formed a bond with you. Hardly surprising as you have never been allowed to bond with anyone outside of Chrollo's members. You are far too willing to spill out all the secrets and offer all of the help. It has gotten so bad that Chrollo is in fact actively searching for Nen abilities to restrict you with it all. Perhaps a part of him has even considered stealing your Nen to make it all easier and he knows that you would all too willingly let him do so if he were to ask. Hisoka is the only member of the troupe that is kept away from you though you approach him willingly to offer any help as he is the newest member. You are th easiest way to get under Chrollo's skin and that is why you are a beloved and popular target, only resulting in more isolation as a result. Perhaps it would really be easier to just steal your powers for you are too naive to wield them.

Alucard

🩸Alucard has gone through great loss over the span of his very long life. He has lost everything. His people. His nation. His wife. His child. His faith. And perhaps worst of all, he has also lost parts of himself as he traded his humanity for the monster he now is and will forever be. That should make it at least a bit more understandable to why he is as protective and possessive of you as he is. After all after centuries of being all by himself and with nothing left to lose, there is something to be lost once more as the vampite gets attached to you. You are a weak spot of his, something that Alucard himself fully acknowledges. Yet strangely enough he cannot find it within himself to hate you for it. He has almost forgotten what it feels like to care for someone as much as he cares for you and with that returns a part of the humanity that he thought he had lost so many ages and empires ago. It is quite fascinationt though, wouldn't you agree? That a creature as feared as he is is chained to a fragile appearing thing like you all because for the first time he discovers once more what it feels like to have a family. Feelings are binding and that more efficiently than a contract through blood.

🩸As someone who has lived for as long as Alucard has though, he also knows that people of your kind rarely survive in a world as unforgiving as this one. Though the time of great wars may not be upon you for the coming years, wolves lurk around everywhere. Kindness is unfortunately a trait that will always be taken advantage off. People will step on you and use you for their own gains and purposes and he worries that you will simply let it happen all because you have more kindness in you than anyone else. So to protect you from the monsters who would lay their greedy claws on you Alucard is always waiting in the shadows, observes every interaction you have and frightens those who believe that you could be nothing but a tool for their own satisfaction. He himself never takes much advantage of you and refuses all the help that you always offer him as most of the time your assistance would do more harm than good as he fights bloody battles and murders those who stand in Integra's way. Sometimes he wonders though if you are a salvation that the god he thought he abandoned so long ago sent his way to bring him back some of the lost humanity he sacrificed in the past.

Alexander Anderson

✝️Anderson is a man drowning in his own belief of God, a servant so dedicated that he engages in violence all to fulfill the greater mission handed to him as a priest and Catholic. In spite of all that insanity brought to light due to his intense devotion he is still capable of attachment and care as seen by the orphans he has taken under his wings. You are no ordinary child though and you are no simple human either. You have never been even from earliest childhood days. Alexander and you couldn't be more different though as you don't engage in battle to kill all those who could pose a threat to the god you believe in. No, instead you have chosen a different path to express your faith by extending kindness and help to all those around you. A concept that on paper should be admirable as you love everyone and forgive all sins yet none of that brings Alexander much pride. In his eyes there is a clear divide amongst people as he condems those who are no Catholics to the point where he would let them die. So obsessed is he with the word of God. His kindness has limits whilst yours doesn't as you extend a friendly hand even to the enemy. A great betrayal in his eyes.

✝️Yet you have been blessed with powers from God, received a divine gift that has made you the most vauable member of the religious organisation. No one would dare to even suggest killing you for what they view as betrayal. No one has the courage to do so either as Alexander is your older brother. Not by blood but by bond as he has been guided to find you when both of you were only children and you still without your gift yet already with your friendliness. The greed of people who only serve their own greed and not the word of God have always threatened to devour you even back then and not much has changed even as years have passed. That is why you are confined to the building of Ferdinant Lukes, the orphanage founded by Alexander. There you are placed just right, also taking care of the many children brought to the establishment and raising them. You are kept away from any activities of the Iscariot Agency as your assistance would only be a distraction for you would offer even the most hideous of monsters your hand and a redemption where none should be given. No, your abilities must remain a secret for otherwise all kinds of things would come after you.

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾It is surprising as it is that Sukuna has formed any kind of meaningful bond to begin with that doesn't end in a bloodbath. The ugly truth is that this bond didn't start the way that it is in the present. No, instead it is your unique Cursed Energy and your ability that comes with it that draws Sukuna to seek you out. After all his greed knows no bounds and the ability to create everything that someone could possibly desire is something many people would love to get their hands on. To their greatest misfortune Sukuna has already planned to make you his possession so any fools who get too close to reach you are mercilessly slaughtered by him. A part of him expects any level of fear or fright as those are emotions he is so used to see on people's faces. Yet the only thing that he receives is a disgusting smile and the polite question of why he is here and what he needs your help with. You possess a level of friendliness that is almost unnerving yet Sukuna finds himself enjoying the sinister aspect to it all. After all your willingness to even help him in spite of knowing his true goals clearly shows a lack of morality. You could be interesting after all.

🗾Sukuna takes some sort of sick pleasure in it as time passes and he notices over and over again how you seem to be utterly incapable of any form of negative emotions. It makes you easy to use and easy to manipulate. The only downsight to it all is that the concept of loyalty is vague as you offer everyone your assistance that asks you of it. That is why you are locked away like a little bird and the only person he trusts with supervising you without abusing your power is Uraume. All of the finest riches and material treasures that adorn his body or that are in his possession are all your creations as a life of luxury is guaranteed with you by his side. Even though you show it in unique ways, in Sukuna's eyes you are still a proper curse with terrifying abilities. After all there is nothing that binds you to others as you discard bonds easily all because you have to help anyone who asks you of it. The only bond that you have and that you seem to value is with Sukuna for he is your brother and that has made him somewhat cocky. It is enjoyable after all, watching how people tear each other apart to have you only to be ultimately be killed by him. After all you are his little sister. His responsibility.

Gojo Satoru

🩵The Gojo clan is a highly respected clan already and the birth of Satoru has only manifested the power associated with them. Being born as his younger sibling without any of the abilities that he has inherited, you are treated vastly different though. Gojo is pushed to be a weapon, to be on top, to be lonely. You experience your own loneliness but for a different reason. Stuck in the shadow of your older brother, constantly compared to the lonely genius who learns so fast and masters everything without even needing a teacher whilst you struggle with simple cursed techniques. Both of you lead unfair lives but for different reasons. Yet Satoru isn't like the rest of the clan as he takes you in and looks out for you where others would have simply ignored your average existance. Both of you only have each other after all so he decides that both of you should stick together. Through his efforts and questionable teaching methods you eventually unlock your own special ability. An immediate game changer a suddenly everyone wants to be your friend or wants to spend time with you. Satoru is against it yet you only reciprocate, mercilessly taken advantage of by the system.

🩵Satoru has his hands even fuller from that day on as he needs to ensure that the world of the sorcerers experiences no threats whilst also seeing it through that no one from the higher-ups nor any other person can get too close to you and only use you. It is frustrating and borderline painful to see you behaving so obedient to every request that you receive as you have no will of your own. It hurts, especially since he expects you to trust him more as your older brother yet none of his words reach you as you immediately offer everything the moment someone asks you for it. The fear that both of you might be pitted against each other might be dismissed as paranoia by others. To Satoru the world isn't that nice though, especially not the world that both of you live in. Rumors and speculations are something that he can hardly contain yet information about the true extent of your abilities is generally kept a secret. It is your sheer willingness and the vulnerability that comes with it that has Satoru locking you permanently away with all sorts of special seals to keep others out. If only you wouldn't agree with him so easily then perhaps all of this would be less shameful for him. Your obedience is painful.

Geto Suguru

🗻Sometimes Geto wonders if he would have killed you on that day just like he did his own parents if it wouldn't have been for the fact that you too are a sorcerer. A question that weights heavily on his mind at times when he observes you yet ultimately the reality is that you are no filthy monkey but a sorcerer with a very powerful ability. That is all that should count and the thought that always has him dropping this question. Suguru may be the leader of this entire movement and the person that everyone respects but your own powers are valued highly by everyone. Suguru would like to think that your abilities are worth even more than his own leadership as you are the key to create a world for only sorcerers. Yet it is most regrettable that your own kindness isn't quite as selective as his own is. In fact you are overflowing with friendliness and the will to help to the point where you offer your help to anyone. Whether it be an enemy of his or even one of the many filthy monkeys, you always approach everyone with that same smile and openness. Some of his own people secretly call you a traitor, words that Suguru denies. What he can't deny though is that your goals do not align with his own.

🗻He is your older brother. You should trust in his choices and listen to him above anyone else. Obviously you do not think the same though as you ignore his every advice and warning and continue going out of your way. You even expose your powers to non-sorcerers and always force his hand to kill those individuals as they not only dared to get lose to you but also to keep them from spreading the news about your powers. Suguru is attempting every day to indoctrinate you with the same ideas that he and the entire cult centered around him follow yet none of his words reach you. You are blind. That is why eventually you are forbidden to step outside the shrine and are kept locked away in a small room like a precious artifact that shall only be taken outside when the time to wield it has arrived. What other choice really is there? You would betray not only your own kind but also him, your older brother, if someone were to ask you for anything that is meant to stand in his way and that knowledge drives Suguru almost mad. The resentment is ever-present with his brotherly love from that day on as he is never able to forget that you would take the hand of someone else if asked.

Nanami Kento

💛Nanami is most familiar with the way that society works. Money talks and money rules. That is all that there is to life and even though he loathes the thought, he knows that he is only a small part in the great mechanism of it all. He would like to walk away at times but unfortunately he is a good person and for that his compassion always drives him back to a place where he will protect people from the horror of curses. It seems to be an inherited trait if one were to look at you, his younger sister. Only that with you this trait has blown out of propotions. Even as a small child you have always been too kind for your own good and Nanami cannot count the times where you were taken advantage of on both of his hands. It has always been him who had to step up or else you would have just continued pouring all of your energy into someone who would have lost likely never thanked you for it and would have only taken it for granted. The role of the older brother weights heavily upon him and it is through all those years that he has developed a naturally overprotective demeanor when it involves you. The world of the sorcerers is after all even less forgiving.

💛Especially once you train your Cursed Energy and gain a very special ability does Kento view himself forced to step up even more. Years of attempting to teach you to set boundaries and think logically and not with whatever heart motivates you to keep on giving, you are still none the wiser. What can he do though? He holds no special power like Gojo does not could he simply turn his back on the system and abduct you like Geto has done. No, Kento is just one of many sorcerer and for that nothing valuable. The only option that he is left with is protecting you to the best of his abilities. You have obtained the highest rank of a sorcerer possible but less because you have fought for it tirelessly and more because your Cursed Technique is just that valuable to their world. That puts only more distance between the two of you that he has to overcome somehow. He could simply ask you for more Cursed Energy and power yet Kento refuses to be put in the same position as everyone else who wants more power, more money and more wealth from you. He is dangerously close to breaking though. Whether his sanity gives up first or his body will be seen in time.

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