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[newbusinessideas]

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[gutsby]

Wants and Needs

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Joel x Reader

Summary: Bills are high; your dad’s boss wants to help. How you pay him stays between you and him—for now.

Warnings: 18+. Protected piv. Explicit power imbalance in an exchange of sex for money, so dubcon, technically. Soft dom!Joel. Sex toys. Squirting. Oral (f!receiving). Overstimulation. Daddy kink. Age gap. Praise kink.

Note: Bohanan’s is a steakhouse in San Antonio, TX.

Word count: 8.4k

You wanted a car. Joel needed to cum.

It wasn’t the arrangement a girl your age should’ve made, but what could you do? Your dad drank half of your college funds away, and your mom was long gone.

The next best thing was Mr. Miller, your father’s boss. He’d understood better than anyone what money could buy. What it might do. For him, it was pleasure. For you, it was a future—or what little remained after bills and loans and exorbitantly-priced car repairs bled you dry.

You took the job at the firm on a whim. You didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, though your dad and Joel were. You didn’t want to be done with law school, though 3L had already long since ended, and that dreaded so-called ‘minimum competency’ test was drawing close on the horizon. In short, you couldn’t afford to pay for bar prep.

With Joel, you could.

It was true that tax law paid pretty well, but a part-time job would never really be enough when your family was treading water at all times. Your dad liked to gamble and drink, and your brothers got all of their brains from him.

You got the short end of the stick, plus the receiving end of another. Lucky for you, Joel’s felt pretty good going in.

Today you were somewhere south of Austin. Your truck wouldn’t start last week, so you’d agreed to come along on this business trip knowing full well what you planned on asking your boss as soon as you had a moment alone.

“CDP hearing at…9:45.” You checked the itinerary twice.

“Alright.” Joel nodded.

“Lunch with Javier, Ezra, and Dave at twelve.”

“Mhmm.”

“Phone call with Revenue Officer Acacius at 3:30.”

“For the…?”

“Martells.”

“Okay.”

“I finished Lucien Flores’ Form 433-F for your review and left notes—” You stopped to tap your finger on a short white pile of papers between you and Joel on the desk, “—in the margins. Still need bank statements from him.”

“Lovely.”

Joel eyed the stack at first, but his gaze strayed a little.

“You should probably plan to talk strategy with my dad before Mayor Garcia’s audit tomorrow, too. Looks like a couple non-cash contributions are being disputed now.”

For a second, your eyes flitted up to him, too. It was brief.

“Sure. When’s your daddy free?” he said.

You blinked, then scanned the schedule.

“Looks like five…or six, maybe. He’s got a consult with—”

“I wasn’t talking about your father.”

You looked back up. Joel was smirking, of course. His hand had drifted a comfortable, innocent distance past the papers and across the table, to you. The pair of you happened to be in one of the glass-paneled conference rooms nearest the hotel lobby, so he had to be discreet.

He never let his fingers stray too long on yours in public. Presently, his thumb grazed your knuckles extra slow.

Posing a question, maybe.

You didn’t have the time to be tactful now, unfortunately.

“I need $2,700.”

Joel, your boss, your daddy, whatever, had to pause at that. He didn’t move his hand immediately, but he did stare harder. Longer. He searched your face for the joke.

“$2,700?” he repeated.

“Yes sir,” you answered out of habit, wincing only a little, “My truck stopped running last week, and it’s just…a lot.”

The cost. For Joel, it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket, but in your world, it was a make-or-break, fuck-your-whole-budget-for-the-next-six-months kind of bad. Suddenly, your cheeks felt warmer than they did before, and you forced yourself to look away. Peering out across the wide and gently rolling terrain of San Antonio and trying to pretend there was something thrilling to see. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated asking this.

“I can make the deposit tonight—” Joel started.

“No,” you interrupted. You wanted to turn but couldn’t. You just shook your head and kept staring out there, “Not now, I mean…I need to earn it over time, I just…”

You stumbled over the words. It was like your lips, your tongue, and your teeth were all suffering from the same sort of embarrassment pervading the brain, and you couldn’t bring your mouth to form the sentences right.

I’m not asking for a handout. I need to earn the money.

However ‘earning’ may have been grossly misconstrued in the context, it was a labor all the same. You didn’t love it, but you didn’t hate him, either. Joel was nice, albeit old enough to be your father, and it didn’t seem that he was nearly as predatory or perverse as he could’ve been. You’d been working for him for two months now, and the idea had been your own when the cash had gotten tight.

Back in April, you’d explained to him, calmly, that you couldn’t take the bar exam unless you got some extra money quick. That you wouldn’t accept his charity, but you’d pay him back in other ways. Joel had been against it at first—you were the daughter of his best friend, after all—but eventually, his carnal needs won out over his sense, as every other man would’ve done, you guessed.

At first, you’d started slow, but that hadn’t lasted very long. You fucked him regularly now, though never had you asked for an amount of cash this big out of nowhere.

Joel blinked and put a hand on his hip, like he always did when he wasn’t sure what to say. The silver in his soft, dark locks shone more in this light. He’d lost the smirk.

“You’ve done…plenty.” Now sounding sheepish.

You tried to protest again; Joel stopped you.

“I mean it. Hey, look at me,” he said next.

You did, hesitatingly. You turned from the window, and out of instinct, folded your arms over your chest. Joel paced closer to you and then he was watching. Pausing.

Brushing your arm with his and glancing once over your shoulder to make sure no one else was around to see.

He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

When he pulled away, your skin was practically ablaze.

“Mr. Miller—”

“Joel,” he corrected, quiet, “And you’ve done enough. Let me cover the car just this once, okay? Sweetheart?”

You didn’t realize you were pivoting again. That your gut was doing somersaults and your heart was ready to climb up and out of your throat. Your neck was burning.

It wasn’t even anger you sensed was simmering under the skin until you turned back to him, and your eyes flashed with ire before the words were even spoken.

“I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller. I said I want to pay.”

“It’s Joel. And I said you’ve done enough, so—”

Ire morphed to something more in a blink.

You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.

“Fine,” you huffed, suddenly exasperated, “If you’re so fucking opposed to me paying my way for this one simple thing, I’ll get another guy. Forget I asked.”

It was a low blow, for sure. Joel knew how badly you’d wanted this to stay between just you and him—and he would never dream of seeing you ‘earning your keep’ with anyone else. His expression said as much as soon as he’d heard your words; his whole face hardened at once.

But then you’d turned to leave. You didn’t care what he wanted to tell you, and if you did, you certainly weren’t brave enough to stick around to hear Joel say it then.

So you left. He had a full, busy day ahead of him anyway.

You woke up wet.

In an effort to avoid your boss, you’d run errands all day. Buried your nose in a sea of Civil Procedure notes as soon as you got a second alone, almost vomited seeing the Erie Doctrine, and went back to your hotel room to try and study there. Once you had, you napped instead.

Now your clothes stuck to your skin; the sheets around you were soaked. You peered over the big white duvet holding your body interred and saw smoke overhead.

Or steam.

Yes, definitely steam. It was drifting from the bathroom, where the door was thrown open. You shifted up to sit.

“Tess!” you yelled, “Shut the goddamn door, I’m boiling.”

As a law clerk, you weren’t afforded the luxury of a suite to yourself, so you shared it with the other new grads on work trips like these. Tess Servopoulos loved long, hot showers and never closed the fucking door. You groaned.

And, feeling depleted of all energy from your studies and the stress and the steam searing every inch of your skin, you flopped back in the bed. You kicked the covers off your legs. You’d just lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from your forehead, when an awful, fresh realization dawned.

You glanced at the clock—3:37.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed.

You were supposed to meet your dad at two to get some paperwork signed. You needed to have that filed with the court by four. He was probably engaged somewhere else by now, whether it be a client, a conference, or a couple white lines in the bathroom of a partners-only club downtown, and you wouldn’t have a hope of reaching him here. You rubbed your face and groaned again.

You’d set an alarm for 1:30—you knew you had.

Where the hell was your phone? Why was it so warm? What if he’d called? Aw fuck, he’s probably blown that thing up to hell and back by now. Maybe he was drunk. He had to be. Where was Tess? Where were your pants?

You’d made it up to your feet, clumsily, and faced a full-length mirror. Your bottoms were gone. You closed your eyes and screamed inside, remembering why they were.

“Glad you’re getting some use out of this.”

The second you heard it, your lids flew open. You turned.

And, standing in the warm yellow glow of the bathroom light—holding the culprit, your vibrator, like a prize—was Joel. Naked as the day he was born, save for one thin towel around his hips, and grinning. Moisture glistened on his chest and pooled about his feet, and his hair was smooth, tamed, and combed back neatly from his face.

He waved your silicone toy in the air, and immediately, you regretted giving him your room key the other day.

“I thought we agreed you’d wait for me—”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your voice was thick with sleep. Joel’s own was slow, dulcet, and kind as it always was, even when teasing. When you grit your teeth, he just set the toy aside.

“I’m sorry. Bad timing. I saw your—”

“No.” You threw up both hands at once, suddenly out of breath and fucks to give, “You know what? I don’t care. You need to go. I have to be down at the courthouse—”

In twenty minutes. You cut yourself short and hurried off to find shoes. You could wear other pants. Ask another attorney to sign the forms if you couldn’t reach your dad. Forget that his boss and yours had just caught you with the vibrator he’d bought you last month and try not to feel too humiliated knowing he knew what you’d been doing. It didn’t matter—Joel didn’t matter. You slid on a mismatched pair of slacks and set off toward the door.

Then you had to stop. Joel beat you there, quick as ever.

“Listen. Hey.”

“Will you stop?!”

You pushed at his big and wet, stupidly broad chest. You felt the small grey hairs on his pecs tickle your palms, and for a second, you thought you heard a chuckle.

“You’re gonna make me late—”

“Hey, hey,” Joel said again. Of course it sounded fatherly, “I already signed the POA for Morales, hon, you’re good.”

You’re good.

“You what?” You stared at him in disbelief. How did he even know you needed Frankie’s power of attorney signed in the first place? You figured your dad would’ve mentioned it, but still, it wasn’t really Joel’s form to sign.

“The case is mine now,” he clarified, reading that look, “Wasn’t my first pick, but it is what it is. And your dad—”

Your dad was probably lagging wildly behind on his own caseload, so he’d pushed one off on his friend. Again.

“You can’t keep picking up his slack,” you gritted out, “One of these days it’s gonna bite you both in the ass. You know he shouldn’t be forcing these jobs on you.”

“I offered.”

“You caved.”

“He’s my best friend, what do you expect me to do?”

“Not let him use you! He’s making you feel bad for him.”

“And what if I did? What if I did pity the bastard?”

You scoffed. Then winced, inwardly.

I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller.

From the look on Joel’s face, he seemed to be remembering the same. He shook his head.

“That’s not…” he trailed off. He rubbed his jaw with his hand and started to move from the door, deflating some.

His other arm extended to you, wordlessly, and already anticipated what was sure to follow. You swatted him off, then walked to the bed. You considered sitting but didn’t. Instead, you crossed your arms like you always did and turned away, facing the window with a cool, flat affect.

By now, Joel knew better than to take that for what it seemed. He crossed the room to you, treading softly.

His voice turned gentle again, like an apology: “Honey…”

But your gaze was already fixed outside. You frowned.

“Darlin’,” Joel continued, undeterred, “Come on.”

And you didn’t need to see his face to hear the rest: ‘Look at me, please,’ with eyes all comfort and warmth.

“Don’t you have a phone call with an R.O. or something?” Briefly, you recalled Acacius and a stream of other items from the checklist you’d covered that morning, and you had to stop yourself then from straying too far. You blinked once, just as Joel was approaching from behind.

“I cancelled,” he said.

You sighed, “Mr. Miller…”

You knew he hated doing that.

“Joel,” he pressed. Adding, “Something came up.”

You wouldn’t even ask. You shouldn’t care. You felt him standing there, fanning hot breaths across the nape of your neck, and you really couldn’t have taken that worse. You visibly tensed, hands balling into fists at your sides, and—hell, he wouldn’t quit moving now, would he?—Joel bent down. He hesitated, as if gauging your reaction in time, then descended further. He kissed your shoulder.

You cracked; it never took much from him.

For all your inane, ancillary plays at feigning indifference, one movement of Joel’s mouth and your resolve was lost. You clung to words, weakly, but all the rest fell away.

“We don’t…want your charity. Me or my dad. Alright?”

“I know.”

Joel kissed your skin again, then pulled at the strap of your blouse. It fell limply away, and his lips reattached.

Exactly when he’d walked you back to the bed, you couldn’t be sure. By the third or fourth kiss, your stomach was tight, knees weak, and your eyes drawing closed; it didn’t matter to you or to him what had passed before. Your bodies found the bed and blended together.

Tangling, in a way. Tearing blindly at clothes and not saying too much apart from Joel’s soft, sweet words:

“That’s it.”

“I know.”

“Good girl.”

Good girl when he kissed you. Good girl when he stripped you bare. Good girl when his hands roamed the broad, naked expanse of your body and let your own do the same to him. Good girl when your fingers hooked the outline of the towel and tugged it away, your vision filled with a sight you’d come to like more and more each day.

“That’s my girl,” Joel murmured. He cradled your head while you gripped his base, “‘S’yours, baby. All yours.”

Yours. Mine. You weren’t sure you had the sense or self-possession to even know what that meant, especially here. Joel wasn’t a boyfriend. He wasn’t a lover, at least not in the traditional sense. He wore dark wool suits like your father and worked from dawn until dusk every day, practicing law for longer than you’d been alive. Still, the smile above you was sweet. It coaxed you gently as you slid your hand up and down his length, like he sensed this was more like a lesson for you. Learning experience.

“Remember, spit a little first,” he instructed. Then, to demonstrate this point, he brought his fingers to his mouth and wet them quickly. He slipped his touch down to yours and met your gaze while he joined you there.

He rubbed and slicked himself up and he did it with ease. You followed his lead and watched his face contort—crow’s feet pinching even tighter at the sides of his eyes as pleasure began to pool in his gut. He looked pretty. You’d never thought to tell him this, but Joel really had an unparalleled face. It was an old and beautiful thing. For this reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away, maybe to wet your own fingers. Instead, you slipped your hand between your legs, where his hips had come to rest. You worked a slow, light touch against your folds; you were drenched, and it didn’t take long for your fingers to be, too. You moved them back to Joel’s cock.

“Like this?” you ventured.

The man answered with a grunt, at first. Then a grin.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Joel nodded, quiet but emphatic. Trying not to smile too big as he let your touch take over for his, “Just like that, sweet pea. Get it nice an’ wet for daddy.”

You wanted to whimper at that. Something must’ve flashed in your eyes at the intonation of the last word, and the look must’ve suffused your whole expression, because the next thing you knew, Joel was lowering his body to yours. Petting your hair, letting you rub on his shaft as fast as your soft, lithe hands could manage.

“Feel that, baby? Feel how much daddy missed you?”

You did.

Your brow pinched, and you wanted more of that. More from him: those tender, edifying words of praise being mumbled your way while your touch worked him over. Maybe you could’ve helped it, but then again, in this state, maybe you couldn’t—you whimpered for him.

Wriggling your hips against the bed to get your warmth pressed flush with his own, and squeezing him tighter:

“In me, daddy. Please.”

You angled his cock in your trembling grip to plead as much. You knew he liked being the one to push in the first time, so you didn’t move too far with that push, but you begged him with your gaze. You felt him tense a bit.

And just when you sensed he might let you have your way, he moved off. Down. Sliding his torso away from your own, to go lower on the bed, and smirking again.

“I think she needs my tongue first, doesn’t she?”

You wanted to nod. Instead, you flinched. You crawled away from his hold before it could secure itself firmly on either one of your legs, and you had to snag your bottom lip between your teeth to contain that blossoming need. It almost spilled from your mouth in a moan before Joel’s could reach your lower half. Then you scrambled to sit up

“No,” you choked out.

This wasn’t new. While you shook your head, Joel lifted a brow and stood from the bed. He reached behind him.

The night stand.

You closed your eyes.

“This isn’t…supposed to be for me.” you sighed.

In a second, Joel was back where he started, and you didn’t have to steal a glance through your lids to know what he was holding. Slotting himself gently into place.

“Don’t,” he started, sharp, “—say that. I mean it.”

You knew he meant it, but you also knew better than to accept at face value what he said, moving down on you.

This wasn’t part of the deal. Joel’s money was meant to serve his pleasure, not yours. Letting him take you any other way seemed to blur the lines between transaction and affection, and though you’d done this before, it still didn’t feel right. You couldn’t bear having his focus here.

Evidently, though, he could. He’d snatched your vibrator from the night table and lowered his torso to your legs, lips twitching the tiniest bit. ‘Open up. Let me see her.’

Joel was on his stomach, eyes glowing with intrigue.

“Let me see how much she’s missed me, baby.”

The grey matter in your brain might’ve trickled through your ears—the whole thing went to mush at his words. You pushed at his hands, then the top of his head, but clearly, your will was weak. You wanted this. Needed it.

“That’s a good girl. Let daddy have it,” Joel drawled.

You wanted to cry. Or maybe hide. His index and middle fingers prodded at your folds, pulling them apart, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you’d stopped breathing. Joel kissed the slope of your mound with a quiet kind of reverence. The salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin brushed your clit, and your back arched reflexively. Then, remembering why you’d come to this arrangement in the first place, you felt a wave of guilt supplant that pleasure.

You clawed at his head and shook your own, weakly.

“No. W-wanna make you feel good,” you choked out.

Not me.

Not here.

Just let it—

“Fuck,” you keened through your teeth. Joel’s lips made contact with your slick, drooling cunt and, in a second, sucked your nub in between them. He flicked his tongue.

Joel groaned, then pulled away to meet your gaze.

“Feels plenty good f’me,” he assured you in a murmur. Eyes glossy, “She’s so fuckin’ sweet, honey. So pretty.”

Then, as if to punctuate his point, he slid his tongue down the whole wet mess of your slit, and he moaned. He curled the muscle and invaded your sticky, sensitive, precious warm flesh with vigor and force—maybe a little desperation—and you whined at the feeling. Your toes curled tight. It was doubtlessly a sight to see: Joel’s old and weathered head against your young and supple skin, the wiry greys of his chin rubbing your cunt like no man’s his age should’ve been. He took you gently. Forked his fingers over your folds to hold you open for him and then, over and over and over again, just licking stripes. Squelching noises only seemed to goad him on while he buried his nose and savored your taste without reserve. Your stomach clenched with that pleasure, then swelled.

“That’s my girl—so good for me,” Joel said, as though reminding you, gently, it was okay to relish the feeling.

Once more, he suckled your clit in his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue in a quick back-and-forth motion, and the next sensation hit without a breath of warning.

Your belly twisted again, then flushed with hot pleasure.

“My— fuck,” you cried, shuddering with a climax you didn’t know was coming. You held his head and whined.

Joel’s tongue didn’t stop. Your vision blurred. Whatever reprieve you might’ve hoped to find came in the form of his lips drawing back, momentarily, only to sponge little kisses on your still-pulsing heat. Your body jolted back.

“I c— I’m done. I’m done,” you blurted out.

Joel nodded against you. Humming through his kisses:

“I know. Keep going.”

Keep going.

So simple.

Still, you couldn’t breathe. Your sight was inundated with stars. You felt Joel’s stubble on your slit again, only this time, the pleasure was tripled. Your legs trembled, and your hands made fists in his hair. Joel kept on kissing.

And kissed again, again, and again, until your fingers in his locks pulled taut to the roots and your hips were bucking up in his face: ‘Too much, t—oh fuckfuckfuck.’

Then came a buzz. Skirting your legs in a blink, before diving to meet Joel’s mouth on your clit. You shrieked.

“I know, I know,” Joel joined, as though soothing a wound while he maneuvered the vibrator. Lifting his head and then kissing your thigh, “I know. You’re alright.”

You wanted to sob; you felt ready to burst. You trusted Joel’s judgment but had never been subjected to this sort of pleasure. What if it was more than you could take?

“I’m here.”

Joel’s words were slow to crawl off his tongue, but their intent was clear. You writhed once more, and he was kissing your skin, rubbing your thighs, and taking the toy to your clit with a warm, devoted touch. He wasn’t cruel.

He had a glint in his gaze when you met it, like he knew you wouldn’t accept this feeling alone—but he wanted you to. He wanted the indulgence to be your own and an end in itself. There was care in his touch, tender praise with every caress, and you guessed this was intentional. Joel needed you to know this was more than only his.

You felt more naked than you’d ever been: soaking the sheets with your last release, fresh arousal trickling out, Joel’s spit mixing with your nectar and sweat and pressing you down in the bed. And nudging you, gently.

“‘S’okay, baby. You’re alright. That feels nice, doesn’t i—”

“Kiss me.”

It came out faster than you could even try and stop it. You weren’t sure why you said it. The words were acerbic on your tongue—you hated ever sounding needy—but then your mind and your mouth and your worries were all silenced at once when Joel came clambering up for you.

His lips were wet and grinning as he kissed you. He held the vibrator hostage between your legs while his body pressed tight against yours. His movements slowed.

Then, as if he’d crawled in your head and read your mind:

“It’s okay to need me, baby. It’s okay to want this.”

His hips made that assurance even clearer. Joel reached down and took the vibrator again, increasing the friction between your groin and his while he pressed the buzzing toy to your clit. You whined into his mouth at the feeling.

Your eyes rolled back, and the pleasure soared. This morning, you might’ve bristled at the words he’d just spoken, but here, in this bed, it felt okay. It felt safe.

Joel felt safe, for once, and you weren’t sure how to keep that idea from sticking—how to reconcile the notion of swapping sex for cash with a man for months on end, and then this. Your stomach churned. He held your face and kissed you more, and your clit throbbed and ached. Before you could ponder your thoughts a second longer, a white-hot pleasure washed over, and you came again.

“Good girl,” Joel cooed.

Throbbing even more this time.

“That’s a sweet girl. That’s my baby.”

All but aching with desire. Feeling it double.

“Cum for daddy, that’s it. Keep going.”

Feeling it trickle down your legs.

“She’s feelin’ real good, huh?”

You could barely breathe.

You whined. Felt something splinter between your thighs and then more of it, more of you and that slick, oozing pleasure and Joel’s groans, overjoyed—‘Making a fucking mess’a daddy, isn’t she? She feel that good?’—and by ‘that good’ you guessed it was more than normal.

This was more warmth than usual. Somewhere in the midst of your own mind-numbing pleasure, you’d let out a spurt, sticky and wet. It now coated the hairs on Joel’s tummy, and while his skin shone, his eyes were brighter. He flitted a look to you, gaze flaring, and slid down. Low.

Back to where he was before. Moving the buzzing pink bullet aside and letting his mouth assume its place.

Of course, you yelped.

“Joel!”

You winced, both from saying his name and feeling so raw. Joel grinned at the sound and suckled your clit.

It was drenched. You and Joel, too, were doused all over and practically gleaming under the rays of late afternoon sun then pouring through the window. For a second, you cast a look outside like you had before, but it was only to brace your body for the bliss at hand. You stared and felt a crude, carnal shockwave seize you head to toe. It traveled fast and made you release, again, or else just continue the same flow as before—and this time, into Joel’s waiting mouth. He lapped at you feverishly now.

He squeezed your legs and licked you dry. He worked in merciless circles, like his life might have depended on making you stay at this peak. All the while, you were tearing at his hair. Riding his face as your body fell apart.

That was alright. This pleasure was yours for now, but there was still time yet to make it worth his while, you reasoned in a half-intoxicated state. Your legs vibrated as you started to crawl—limp—back up in the bed and, numb with elation and a desperate need to please, you stretched your arm toward the night stand. You huffed.

You reached blindly but got it. The box. Weak fingers found the first plastic strip and tore yourself a square. Then, lifting it to Joel, you ignored the last stabs of pleasure between your legs. This was fun, but still his.

“Go on,” you told him, breathless, “Fuck me.”

Joel quirked a brow. He took the condom, still panting himself. He brought the latex to his tip out of habit, then:

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

Your head was swimming. Somewhere entrenched in the furthest recesses of your brain you could feel it, that dizzying, self-centered pleasure. You pushed it back.

You suffocated it, and you spread your legs wide for him. You let him lay you down and tug the rubber over his cock, then nudge at your hips to situate himself in just the right way. How he liked it. He seemed to be content, and your heart swelled. In this airy, buoyant state, you felt more at ease to speak, sure that he’d understand.

“This should cover some of it, right?” you panted out.

Joel slowed.

“What?”

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eager to keep going. But you steeled yourself, just barely, then.

“Sex. Now,” you said, “It’ll cover some of my car repairs.”

Instead of nodding like you’d expected, Joel only blinked. Then you opened your mouth to speak again, and his body stopped you cold. He planted a hand beside your head on the pillow and raised his hips; you felt his heat leave with it. You reached for his backside immediately, to try and pull him back into that pre-missionary position he’d held, when Joel brushed you off. His face was hard.

“Money?” he quipped.

“Yeah,” you started, then remembered how you talked outside of the bedroom, when he seemed more serious, “We’ll go again. All week. You can even put it in my—”

Joel balked, like you’d just slapped him across the face.

“No,” he said, sharp.

“No,” he repeated, more to himself this second time. Almost as though he couldn’t believe what you were suggesting—and making him guilty by association.

Joel clenched your pillow like a vice and shook his head.

“You’re not getting paid for this,” he finished, and when your gaze penetrated his, confused, he squeezed harder.

“Thought you wanted it.” Joel added, almost shamefully.

“I do! I do…I just—” you sputtered.

“What? Think you need to offer up a week and a half of fucking to make it worth my time? Is that what this is?”

Well, in a way, maybe.

You weren’t sure what to say. Former dizzying bliss was dwindling fast, and now you were facing him cold. Sober.

Increasingly irritated, again.

“I just need money, Mr. Miller—”

“It’s Joel, hon,” he bit back, for the fourth time that day. His eyes flared with something more, maybe annoyance, but then he was tempering it just as fast. He ran a hand through his damp grey hair and shook his head, pausing, “It’s Joel. I know you need the money, baby, but it’s—”

“It’s what we agreed,” you protested, “What I need—”

“Well it’s not what I want!” Joel barked.

Anger surged again, and this time, evidently, the feeling was harder to keep at bay. He was scarcely able to rein in his features, settling on a grave little scowl instead of a frown, and he sucked in shorter, shallower breaths through his nose. You felt him let your pillow go.

“Forget it—the cash.” Joel grit his teeth even tighter, “Forget these payments and the goddamn allowance I’ve had you on. I can’t do that anymore. It’s not right.”

Your heart sank.

You didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, Joel’s voice resumed on its own.

“Whatever you want, whatever you need, sweetheart…”

He stopped. Silence followed, then stretched on for one full, terrible minute. In that interim, you could see his chest rise and fall fast. He was trying to slow it down.

“Whatever you need paid off, I’ll do it. Anything. You don’t have to touch me again. It was wrong of me to allow that in the first place,” he rejoined, tone cooling.

Sounding guilty, too.

Above you, Joel didn’t seem keen on holding your gaze, so he fixed his stare someplace on the headboard instead. Then he moved off your body, slowly.

In spite of the distance he attempted to give, he was still crowding your space. Looming large and bare and weary as you’d ever seen him, knees shuffling back awkwardly through a mass of cotton sheets while his eyes shifted low. Away. The rest of him filled your lungs with a heady cologne scent and your stomach with a thousand tiny blades—you were hurt that he wasn’t sticking to his end of the bargain. You were mad that he was trying to claim the moral high ground now, after everything you’d done.

Mostly, though, you were just upset that you felt like you were losing someone close. That Joel Miller was more of a confidant, friend, and father figure than your own dad had ever been, and that got all fucked up over money. Your lips pursed, and something stung behind your eyes when you reached for him again. Your throat stung, too.

“The reason I agreed to do this,” Joel went on, and the ache in your head worsened when he winced from your touch, “was ‘cause I didn’t want you getting ‘help’ from anyone else. I was selfish. And that’s not an excuse…”

He started to move off, hand dropping from yours.

“…but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”

At length, Joel found your gaze, and the eyes said it all over again: I’m sorry. You might’ve believed them, too.

But you were you, and you couldn’t help but press:

“Why?”

Your voice was small. Joel was trying to stand from the bed, but you grabbed at his hand again and made him meet your eyes. Confusion was painted across his own.

Kneeling in front of him, curious, you tried to clarify.

“Why’d it have to be you?”

Judging from Joel’s expression as soon as you did, you got the sense that this question made him feel dumb. He frowned, but he held your stare and answered anyway.

“Because I wanted you first,” he replied, “Before all this.”

Your stomach twisted. He did?

You didn’t need to ask twice to know what that meant. What he’d said, in words and with a look, was enough. Still, it was always in you to know more, to be sure, so you crept a little closer. You let your hands roam up and—

“No,” Joel said, as soon as your fingers reached his side.

You’d just wanted to feel him, maybe prod him further on what he’d just said through acts that didn’t require verbal articulation, but he refused. He backed up in bed.

“This isn’t about—” he started, low.

“Sex. I know,” you answered for him. Then your touch grazed his thigh, and you were dying to have more. To be told in a way you both knew and understood. To touch, “You want me to believe you really…liked me before?”

“More than you know.”

There was that blunt, open pragmatism in the Joel you’d always known. Perhaps guided by natural inclinations, or else your hand on his leg, drawing higher. Moving closer.

Showing skepticism through your eyes and the hint of a playful, disbelieving smile starting to curl at your lips.

“When you met me?” you teased.

You’d known of Joel for years, and had met him a couple times as a teenager at various firm holiday functions. You probably hadn’t exchanged more than ten words altogether before starting law school a few years back.

“Hell no,” Joel answered, fast, “When you started work.”

His gaze was timid again. It was fixed on his thigh where you’d started to slide your index up the warm, muscled expanse of his skin, and though you could tell he was more than hesitant, you wanted to know. Wanted to feel.

It wasn’t so easy convincing a man you’d been working for—and fucking, largely without feeling—to pay bills that you wanted him here and now. But you needed to try.

That maybe, somewhere along the way, you’d come to want him, too. That cash wasn’t the only thing at stake.

You crawled between his legs, then straddled his hips.

Your lips smiling still as you did: “How much?”

Joel blinked back. Dazed.

“What do you m—”

“How much did you like me? When did it start?”

Joel sighed when your heat rubbed his. He tried grabbing ahold of your hips, when you glanced down and saw he’d already discarded the last condom. You couldn’t have that if you wanted to continue this talk.

You reached back and grabbed another.

“Darlin’,” Joel said, strained, “We shouldn’t…”

“Says who?”

You’d already worked the rubber halfway down his length when his heavy-lidded gaze locked with yours. You saw lust there, mixed with worry. Curiosity. You kept going.

“Says your dad, if he ever finds out what I’ve done to his little girl,” Joel replied, closing his eyes at the feeling.

You had the latex worked down to the base of him when you smiled. Felt him seize your hips, lids fluttering open to find you in their soft, glossy stare, and you felt better. Like clockwork, you went together and joined, at last. You felt Joel squeeze your backside and groan when you first sank down to take him whole. You shuddered, too.

But you tried to steady your voice as you spoke.

“Semantics, Miller,” you told him, only faltering a little, “Things you are ‘doing’ to his little girl. Not just ‘done.’”

There, you had a point. Surely your father would have had some choice words for his business partner and best friend if he knew how far Joel’s cock was currently stuffed inside your tight, wet cunt. It might even piss him off, if he weren’t too drunk to receive the news himself.

Joel blinked hard, signaling that he knew this too, and presently watched your body swallow all eight inches at once, after you’d raised yourself up to just the tip and sank back. Your ass fell to his groin with an obscene sort of squelch, and your walls involuntarily clenched. You both let out sounds of pleasure, and held on tighter.

Your hands on his chest for stability, while one of his own held your hip and the other fumbled around for your clit, gliding through the sheen of your arousal on his front. You rocked your hips and felt how much it really was—how you’d drenched his whole abdomen with your last release. You smiled at this and stared, pleased with the pretty, sticky display you’d laid bare all over Joel’s belly.

When Joel wasn’t watching you ride, he stared there too.

“Not so ‘little’ anymore,” he mused quietly. Then he looked up to find your eyes, seeing them as glazed as his, “And I ‘like’ you, hon. Present tense. Not just…‘liked.’”

Alright.

“How much?”

You wanted to say it with some confidence. Nonchalance. Then Joel’s cock nicked a particularly sensitive ridge inside your walls, and that thought was gone as quick as it had come. You gripped the flesh of his upper chest and rolled your hips harder. Let out your breaths in little fractured whimpers while you rode him more. Another sweet feeling twisted low in your gut.

With just a glimpse of that, Joel moved his hand from your heat up past your hips and waist, to squeeze one of your breasts. His fingers were wet. You could feel them, equal parts warmth and wanton yearning as the pads pinched your nipple and gave it a firm tug. He grunted.

Clearly, there was more to it than just the touching and feeling for him—Joel’s eyes drank in the sight of your skin as it glistened with the arousal he’d just smeared. He thumbed at the wet, stiff peak and swallowed. And, just as you were about to adjust the rhythm of your hips bouncing on him, his free hand joined the first and pulled you down. You cried feeling his cock wedge deep; your hands fell to either side of his body when he yanked your face down to his. He fucked up into you from underneath

You squealed, soft, “Joel!”

He kissed your open mouth. Made you lay flat overtop him while he fucked your dripping hole. You whimpered.

“Joel—” Again.

“I like you so much, sweetheart,” he said, in answer to your last question, lips close, “Does she like me too?”

As if to save him the trouble of a swift reply in words, your body told him instead. You squeezed around his cock, and with another desperate cry, bit his shoulder. He hammered your poor, aching pussy with a groan of his own, and he held your body down to his. Grinning.

Kissing the side of your head while he pounded away. Stroking your hair, “Is that a ‘yes’? She like her daddy?”

Drool was bound to slip out of your mouth any second. Your lips were locked in a permanent ‘o’ while he drilled from under you on the bed. Still, you managed to nod.

“Uh-huh—oh, fuck, fuck, da-ddy. Yes, daddy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as another blistering wave seared your insides. Joel was relentless with his thrusts now, driving himself in and out without stopping or slowing. He must’ve known you were close. He was too, judging by the sounds of his grunts and hushed tone.

“Let daddy take care of her then, baby. All of her. OK?”

His words trickled through your ear as sweet as honey. His cock was less kind, but that was okay—you liked it.

You loved him here. Taking care of you. Her. Everything.

And, in this half-coherent state of fuckdrunk pleasure, you were tempted to give in to whatever he begged.

It would be so easy. Joel cradled your face in his hand, practically beaming with pride while he fucked you over and over, and your legs were spread, walls were stretched, eyes practically rolling back, and you felt more secure than you’d been in ages. Joel could care for you.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and hummed.

“Daddy’s got you,” he said, voice all warm assurance.

Nudging you closer and closer to your peak—and perhaps some other form of surrender. Release.

Submission?

Joel wouldn’t be so bad for that.

He could fuck you well and leave you content. Make you forget what it meant to be strapped for cash and saddled with guilt and worry over bills every month. Joel could provide, for now. His eyes said as much; his fingers threaded through your hair and rubbed your scalp. He cupped your face, all fifty-six years in his own looking as handsome as they’d ever been. He felt good. He felt safe.

You were hot. Your legs trembled and ached.

“Is that something you’d want?” he pressed.

And, still holding Joel’s gaze with a heavy-lidded, fucked out look of your own, you surprised yourself by nodding, slowly. Your body was spent, but the curve on your lips, then his, was sincere; Joel nodded back as he grinned.

“Yeah? You mean it, sweetheart?”

He flipped you both over and got on top, never breaking apart. You wound your legs around his back and let him cup your cheeks again, and from this angle, you felt it. You wouldn’t try and fight it now; you just kissed him.

Then you came for a third time, walls clenching and squeezing and gushing again, smearing Joel’s front as he fucked you right through it. His groans were a little more subdued than yours, but in their timbre, you could hear his desperation. He emptied himself inside you, in the condom, and kept holding your face all the while.

You felt a low pulse between your legs. Then another. And another. And another. Joel’s hips began to still, his hefty greying belly bumping lightly against your skin while he drained what was left in his balls, and you swore that his bones might’ve creaked from the sheer force of those final thrusts. He seemed exhausted. Somehow, though, the man looked even better in this state—haggard and worn as he was, the face above your own was soft. Smiling, faintly, and kissing you constantly.

You couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it; you were far too tired and fucked out of your mind to protest right now.

Joel trailed a path with his lips from your chin to your ear. He kissed the hinge of your jaw and sank himself deeper.

“Mr.—” But you caught yourself, shortly, “…Joel.”

He lifted his head, not apologetic in the least.

“Maybe just one more—” he started.

“No,” you finished for him, sharp.

Still smiling, but with your eyes on him in a thinly veiled threat. Joel accepted that and kept his dick where it was.

What followed was gradual but natural enough. A little awkward as you broached that uncharted territory of remaining in the other’s presence after the deed was done, but Joel didn’t seem like he wanted to leave the bed, and you had nowhere else to go until dinner with your dad at eight. There was a moment you wanted to separate your body from Joel’s, if only to slip off to the bathroom by yourself, but the man just held you closer.

“You think your old man will mind if I joined tonight?”

Here the fuck we go.

“He’ll kill you.”

You pushed hard against his hold without getting so much as an inch of give. Joel had to fight back a chuckle.

“Oh, yeah? Why?”

“Because,” you began in a huff. Wriggling with very little success in his arms, while you were pinned in missionary, “I smell like you. You smell like me. My dad’s a drunk, but he can sniff stuff like that out in a heartbeat. Too risky.”

You punctuated those words with a still more serious look, but before you could nudge at his chest again or say something more, you were forced to swallow a scream. Joel’s grip tightened even more, and he moved to stand up from the bed—with you still in his arms and impaled on his cock. He started to walk to the bathroom.

“Great. Shower’s got plenty of room for the two of us.”

“Joel!”

“Glad I don’t have to keep reminding you of my name.”

His voice was smug. Your gaze was hard. Joel was still hard himself, amazingly, and you almost groaned when you felt the head of his cock bump somewhere soft and sensitive inside. He toted you into the big, bright room.

“If not tonight, how ‘bout tomorrow? Just you and me.”

He would never stop this shit. He reached for the faucet.

“Still too dangerous. You know that,” you chided. Your resolve only wavered a little when you felt the hot water start to pelt at your back. Joel closed the glass door, “Besides…I need to focus on figuring my shit out right now. Work and bills and getting myself a rental car soon.”

Joel paused. He turned, still holding you.

Then, just as swiftly as he’d stepped inside, he carried you right back out of the shower. You whined in protest.

He took you over to the bed and set you down. He left to find his wallet and keys. You might’ve been tempted to voice your displeasure in some other way—namely, by marching back to the bathroom, locking the door, and bathing alone—but before you could speak a word, Joel was back. He looked down at you and held out his fist.

“What’s—”

“Your dad and me’ll be up to our eyeballs in bullshit working the Garcia audit tomorrow—and I know you don’t want him seeing us leave together anywhere—so we can meet at Bohanan’s at six. How does that sound?”

You blinked.

“I don’t…have a car.”

Joel opened his hand. Keys dropped out.

In a single glance, you could see they weren’t his.

Joel drove a garish Super Duty F-450, not an Audi. The cogs were quick to turn in your head, but clearly not fast enough, because Joel was closing your fingers over the keys before you could breathe so much as a syllable to him. When you did, it came out more like a stutter. Palpably mad but far too rattled to get much out:

“Joel, I-I can’t—”

“I’ve been meaning to buy one anyw—”

“You’re insane,” you started to push the keys back, and for some reason, your heart was thudding extra hard as you did. You went on, unblinking, “You don’t…need to.”

“I want to.”

Joel’s hands were warm when he pressed both of his palms to secure yours between them. He could probably feel the way it shook a little, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze was too busy trying to find, and hold, your own while you swallowed and stared and racked your numb brain for any words of defiance. At length, nothing came.

All you could do was meet that look. In the soft brown irises above, you could see it all—the need to comfort, and care, and provide where he could, offer better than the hand you’d been dealt and maybe, interspersed with those feelings somewhere, a simpler need in him to give.

For once, you wanted to believe it.

Fun fact: This fic was inspired by true events‼️💯 My life 😫🤪😤😈 Like reader, my truck is also busted as SHIT and needs $2,700 in repairs!!!! Unlike reader, I will not be sucking and fucking Joel Miller to recoup my losses (not asking for donations, just wanted to give y’all a giggle at my misfortune LOL)

[oceantornadoo]

persephone (simon riley x f!reader) age gap, a bit coercive, dark

—

it started with fruit.

you were simon riley’s secretary, working for a man clouded in darkness and gold. you’d hear whispers on the street, see pitying faces when you mentioned who you worked for to strangers. to them, he was a cold, hard beast. to you, he was a king.

he started by bringing you fruit, pomegranate seeds and ghost-white pears. small quips about eating healthy now while you were still young enough. ms twenty something meets mr not-yet middle aged, the lines of his face just starting to crease but the beer belly nowhere to be found. he mined diamonds, you heard. he owned cemeteries, said another secretary. they call him ghost, whispered a personal assistant. you didn’t care, didn’t need to when that wasn’t your job.

he had scarred hands, craggly things winding into the cuff of his midnight black suits. didn’t wear a mask but always seemed to be covered in darkness, his face unrecognizable in half lit rooms and empty offices. he always stayed late so you did too, indulging in the extra car he ordered for you, his driver called charon. simon never held long conversations but simply beckoned you, some string in your belly pulling tight at his recognition. at least a third of his day spent with you, murmuring soft nothings, inquiring about your mother and the upcoming winter, the beauty in the death of the trees. “y’ smell like spring, love.” he’d said one morning, and you resolved to wear that same pomegranate spritz indefinitely.

and then it moved to jewels. congratulations on your one year preceded by a tennis bracelet. a trinket of a three headed dog, something small to keep on your desk. the hours draw on later and later, canceled plans with your mother and nymph-like friends piling up like leaves. his touch starts lingering, hard calluses on soft skin.

a hand on your back, guiding you into a conference room. your hair brushing against his torso, the intimacy of it jarring. you twisted your ankle one day, the height of your heels overindulgent. ended up on the couch in his private office, his hands massaging your foot. “like a delicate flower.” he’d murmured, rewarding you with an anklet of diamonds once the pain wore off.

three years in, an invite to his private island. no service, leave your phone at home. sign an nda, we’ll work remote, gone for a month maybe more. pack some nice clothes, maybe a white dress if you’ve got one. take my card if you don’t.

stepping off the helicopter, charon at the helm. you weren’t there against your will but the hairy arm around your waist was heavy, a reminder of the cost you’d paid to visit the underworld. two weeks in and you couldn’t even act surprised when he proposed, on one knee with a glint in his eyes. “you and me, love, against th’ world.”

and if you said yes to the fruit, the diamonds, the care, the attention - saying yes to this was just the next step. an elopement, he’d already drawn up the license - “why wait, dove? y’r so fragile already.” you’re not, have a hidden strength under you, but ghost doesn’t care, ghost takes what he wants, and you, legs spread and eyes soft, are it.

when he fucks you, that’s when it’s settled. cunt dripping on his fingers, his face, his cock. he mutters something about a vasectomy and you’re taking him bare, making eye contact with a ghostlike gardener who walks past the window. your jaw unhinged, drool at the corner of your mouth as he fucks you from behind, one hand on your throat.

“such a good secretary, hm?” and you nod ferociously like the three-headed puppy on your desk. you’ll never work again, too busy with his cock in your mouth or his remote vibrator in your cunt at dinner. the jewels drip into a roar - diamond encrusted toys you’re not sure are entirely safe, bejeweled handcuffs, glittery collars. he’s pluto, the riches of the earth following his orders when he chases you in his private woods. simon’s presence is otherworldly, taking you with the strength of a god as you squirm against his grip. his oldness disgusts you but makes you gush all the same. “gonna be good for daddy?” and you agree vehemently at the king before you, on his knees.

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ sending them suggestive pictures while they're at work

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Sigma

content: nsfw, female reader, spanking, sexting, oral sxx, masturbation, semi public

It's not unusual for DAZAI to tap away on his phone during work hours, so no one — except for Kunikida, who still hasn't given up on glaring — pays it any mind when his smirk widens at his screen. What remains a secret, however, is that he's not looking at some funny tweet but instead at your tits, the blue lace of your bra making for a pleasant contrast in colour.

He's awfully smug about the whole ordeal, really; also, who is he not to play along? He definitely sends you not only some appreciative words back, but also a picture of his own, featuring either his hands — he does know that you're quite fond of his fingers, after all —, his face — because you can never complain about that! —, or his by now half-hard dick, pressing against his trousers, even though taking soft nudes borders on workplace indecency. Oh, and your pictures are definitely saved and stored away on his phone for later usage.

[new message from Dazai] “someone's needy, harassing me during work hours! just kidding bella!! you're so cute xx stunning too! how am i supposed to listen to kunikida any longer when you're so so pretty? :( ill call out sick, be there in 20 x”

CHŪYA really doesn't expect to see anything but a picture of a dog you saw outside or of a particularly pretty flower when he spares a brief glance at his phone during a Port Mafia meeting. It's already disrespectful, though he doesn't plan on anyone noticing the miniscule action — that is, until he all but chokes on his coffee at the photo of you, legs spread wide, two fingers deep inside of yourself, wearing not only his favourite lingerie set, but also one of his ties.

He tries hard to ignore the way everyone stares at him when he, all too abruptly, excuses himself to the bathroom, his face bright red. In the safety of a stall, he really can't do anything but shove his trousers to his knees, one hand immediately closing around his dick while he types your number into his phone with his free one — and while he might snap at you, oh so flustered, he's also so damn turned on that he can barely focus on anything but the sound of your voice and your photo.

“Fucking Hell, babe—, God, with how Mori was looking at me, I bet he knew what was up. Fuck—, send me another one, please, I'm so damn close, ah—”

Business meetings aren't RANPO'S favourite way to spend time. They're awfully boring, making him huff and sigh when he has to sit through them — though this one gets a lot more interesting the moment he clicks on a text message from you. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of your panties, pure lace and hiding not even the slightest bit just how wet you are, thighs glistening, though that's about all the physical reaction he's going to show. The fact that his dick strains against his trousers is no one's business.

He is, however, quick to text you back, amusement dripping from his messages, and if Fukuzawa wasn't already watching him with sharp eyes, he'd sneak away to the bathroom to call you. For now, you'll just have to do with sexting — this meeting is going to go on for a while, especially if he won't soon start contributing, and he's unfortunately got better things to do.

[new message from Ranpo] “having fun without me? youre so mean. at least send me more pics im dyin g here... maybw bend over or— ooo i know, we bought that toy a while ago, right? why don't you use that one for me, doll....”

FUKUZAWA sucks in a sharp breath the second his eyes fall onto your form clad in nothing but one of his yukatas, and even though he attempts to remain calm, he's already blushing, arousal churning low in his stomach. Really, he was just trying to take a miniscule break from all the paperwork he's facing — besides, the cat ringtone signaling your message did sound rather urgent! —, though now he's not certain whether he can focus on it again.

He ends up typing “This is most inappropriate.” in response, though he never sends it, instead replacing it with a “You look stunning.”, only to never send that one either. In the end, he just quits work a little earlier that day and hurries home faster than he'd ever want to admit, cheeks still flushed with arousal when he joins you in bed, immediately slotting himself between your pretty thighs, long fingers spreading your folds apart and into your cunt to prepare you — only to realise you've long done that yourself. How convenient. He might reprimand you a little afterwards, though both of you realise it's not to be taken seriously. When he's honest with himself, he rather liked that photo — and he'll definitely keep it.

“That was awfully inappropriate. Darling, you know I enjoy getting to hear from you during the day, and yet — what? I didn't mind you wearing my clothing in the slightest. I was worried about someone from the Agency seeing the picture. In fact, wear my clothes again whenever you feel like it. Please do. You looked quite irresistible.”

It's almost unfair just how seemingly unbothered FYODOR is. When checking his phone during a Decay of Angels meeting, aware that you know not to contact him except for important reasons, he merely glances at the photo lewdly depicting your raised skirt and the curve of your behind before putting it back into his pocket. Really, it's downright adorable that you're attempting to tease him — you should know better by now, darling.

While he doesn't bother with a response, he certainly makes sure to pay attention to you when he returns home. And, oh, the next time you want to toy with him, he sure hopes you remember this very moment, of you bent across his lap, his hand coming down ever so often on your butt, on the soft skin of your upper thighs, making you cry out with every slap. The marks, at least, will serve as a nice reminder, especially when you keep forgetting to thank him for every hit.

“There we go, dear. Ah, ah — don't cry now. This is what you wanted, is it not? My undivided attention — and you certainly have it, now. Which number were we on again? Tell me, darling, or we will have to start over, I'm afraid.”

The second SIGMA spares a quick glance at his phone, only to stumble upon a rather revealing picture you just sent him — and, God, 'rather revealing' is an understatement when he's able to see just how wet you are, thighs spread for the camera —, his face heats up significantly, earning him some odd looks from the other men he's currently in a meeting with. In a desperate attempt to regain professionalism, he clears his throat, trying to simply continue, but it's as if every thought has been erased from his mind and was replaced by you.

When getting home that evening, he's calmed down considerably, cheeks still warm with the memory of you being this bold, though his sudden calmness might just change when you expect him in that exact same position, legs wide apart, the smile on your face teasing — and who is he not to end up on his knees in front of you, tongue flattening against your cunt while both of you let out breathy moans? In the end, he's all but begging you to return the favour.

“Ah, God, I'm close. At least finish me off, please—, you were really cruel today, dear. Make it up to me? Please? Oh, fuck—”

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[g1rlken]

┏ Like real people do 2. ┐

Aemond Targaryen x wife!daemon’s daughter reader

⋆˚࿔ read part 1 here ˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

summary: blood and cheese, where daemon [the best dad (satire)] also orders for his daughter smuggled back to him, violent aftermath

an: there is no brothel Aemond subplot involved

word count: 5.2k

warnings: blood and cheese, canon violence, violence, daddy issues being mocked, arguments, once again blood and cheese

The war was afoot, degeneracies increasing, treacherous plans and endless councils. Amidst all of that y/n still found time to pay Haelena a visit as frequently as she could. Both of them had found impeccable friends in each other and the twins were always a delight. Striding through the halls of red keep, prodding her head inside with a soft knock on the queen's doors which were wide open as it is, "look!" y/n entered with a wide smile on her face. Twirling around she showed Haelena the dress she wore, it was a dress Haelena had embroidered for her with special spiders and other custom animals. Haelena had remarked on y/n's elegantly plain dresses, the edges could all use embroidery and y/n was more than glad to let Haelena design on her dress. "You made it so much better, the small bugs in blue thread it’s so beautifully assembled-" before she could comment more on the beauty of her queen sister's embroidery she was there to showcase, y/n was under attack of her niece and nephew, "why good morrow to you two!" she giggled as the two tugged at her dress for consecutive raise-me-ups. 

"I am very glad!" Haelena said offering her a smile as she scanned those designs, Haelena was warmly elated that y/n chose to wore the dress she had embroidered and the fact that she let her do it in the first place.

"You must teach me your ways" y/n commented whilst actively engaging with jaehaerys and jaehaera, she couldn't carry both the babies at the same time but she was trying to entertain them regardless, the two were latched to their auntie's knees like monkeys.

"I could always make you more, save you the time!" Haelena offered instead, she tried to distract whichever one of the children with a toy but both were way too smitten with their ever so busy aunt, now that she had the council she spent supposedly lesser time with the twins.

"That too would be so convenient!" Y/n said, Jaehaera was raised on her back, making mischief with her aunt as she tried to close her eyes with her tiny hands from behind. Both the twins laughing as she did so, regardless y/n laughed along trying to maintain her balance the best.

"That is enough..." Haelena trailed off in amusement as she helped Jaehaera off of y/n's back. The babe did not let go before whining about it, jaehaerys still tugging at his aunt's dress to get her to bend down so he could talk.

"It's alright" let out a small chuckle y/n's attention was caught down to the little heir pulling at her dress, for her to bend to his level. "Yes little prince?" She asked, attentive to her nephew's whims and demands.

"You said you were going to read to me" Jaeherys reminded her in a rather witty sense, having a sense of one upping her since she forgot about it.

"Oh did I now?" She paused for a second trying to remember when exactly was the reading session arranged for.

"Yes! The-the one with the fox and the-crows...where you do the voice!" The little prince was soon to remind her of which exact story they had left off from. He liked it better when his auntie read it to him than the wet nurses or his mum because she often did those giddy voices and the stories she read in were more entertaining than the ones with septa.

"Gods I must have forgotten" she said in a somewhat melodramatic tone to make the child think she took their reading session as a serious matter, "I have got some work on my hands at the moment but I assure you I will come continue the story-"

"When!" Jaeherys whined with a sort of tired expression given the delay in his story.

"Tonight." She answered genuinely, "Right after dinner!"

"Do you promise?" He asked wanting to take her aunty's word for proper surety.

"I promise." She said holding his tiny hands in hers giving them a gentle squeeze to assure him of her promise. Kissing both her niece and nephew on the forehead as she stood up, in attempt to take her peace Haelena stopped her.

"Are you not afraid?" Asked her sister in law with a tense look on her face, like those times when she would be out of it. As if she spoke another language and saw other things. "When the stones call you back?"

"What...what stones?" She asked, at first y/n thought Haelena was referring to some palace. Could this be in correlation to something with the council, is what y/n presumed.

"The stones. They will call you back!" Haelena gripped her elbows tighter, to emphasise the gravity of the situation she felt. "They'll take you away!"

"Nobody is taking anyone away..." y/n trailed off, shaking her head slightly as she ran her hand down Haelena's in a soothing way. "We are all safe here and there is nothing to be scared of. I promise you. I am not going anywhere." She assured her. Y/n assumed that it would worry Haelena to lose the best friend she had in herself if she were to go back because of the war waging. In her father's name perhaps, her worry was not unsolicited but y/n was sure her father's was a house not hers that is even before her marriage with Aemond.

Haelena could never seem to get her point across for some reason, she couldn't digest her wearies in a coherent way herself so she nodded with a small smile. The restlessness still consistent within her as y/n took her leave. Ever since the intimate moment with Aemond, their relationship had grown rather awkward. Aemond was closed off as always, unable to convey his infatuation. Awkward in this area, the young lovers found it difficult to navigate through a conversation. Bristling fingers through glasses, stealing glances, speaking out their love in small gestures.

That did not account for the fact that the council matters too seeped into the newlywed's marital bliss phase. Aemond too had a seat now, on the king's word. He would attend those meetings and at times the two would have drastically counter opinions. His lady wife, she would sit in the same line of seats after the hand and his mother. Speaking their minds against him, just as they had intended for her. A council within the council. "All you do is account for grand sire and mother, no such thoughts of your own. A mere puppet." Aemond scoffed as they were currently in a conversation in their chambers reflecting to that day's council meeting.

The day was at its end and as was y/n, end of her wits. His bickering was just what she needed, "And you?" she said in a tone more accusatory than his, rightfully so "all you add to the discussions is the warpath Ser Criston weaves."

"I stand for it, you just chew out what the council within the council spews" he scoffed, coming out harsher than intended but now this had become usual."I know you informed the hand of my meetings with Cole."

"Didn't do it as a snitch, had you asked me I would have told you I informed the hand." Y/n said trying to counter his condescending remarks. She wasn't a 'puppet' how he implied "Just because I do not agree with you doesn't make me a puppet to those with better judgment than yours."

"Better judgment than mine?" He let out a low huff finding it absurd that she believed Otto and his mother had a better judgment over the war than his, "you think writing to other castles, pleading, awaiting their help whilst we have three large dragons is a better judgement?"

"And what? What do you plan to do with the dragons? Burn all those against us?" She asked him growing agitated having this conversation again, "You are in favour of a lot of unnecessary bloodshed-"

"It is necessary. To make an example, to lay out a path." Aemond interrupted her, taking in a small breath "Raise your banners or watch them burn. This is what the blacks are already set to implement whilst we sit hand on hand sending out messengers!"

"You want to create a sense of fright! That is all you will accomplish with burning houses." She said in an assertive tone as she crossed her arms. This is what Ser Criston had told him too, the words struck him a small remembrance.

"Are you eavesdropping my meetings with Cole?" He questioned, as the reference resembled similar words to Cole's. Cole didn't exactly have the same notion as his wife but the words were vaguely same.

"You sit right across this room" she gestured to the adjoining room after their bedchamber. The small opening after their room led to the table against the wall where Cole and Aemond had their meetings, "The meetings you have after you assume I'm asleep, as it is too loud enough for me to not eavesdrop or be able to sleep."

"Of course" he couldn't help but roll his eyes, "You must have told the hand about it word for word yes? Like a parrot"

"Don't think of yourself too highly, your conversations are rather predictable even to those who aren't present" she replied. He wasn't wrong that she informed the hand about it but she took accountability for that.

"At least my conversations hold a spine" in two strides he reached the table she was leaning on to pour himself a glass of wine, "Unlike yours, but well that is what was intended for you" he shrugged.

For a moment, y/n sighed shutting her eyes "What are you implying?" She asked trying to maintain a calm composure because she was aware he would have words that would make antagonise her.

"You know, why you are in the council in the first place" he said in casual harshness. "Otto needed someone to voice his opinions like the righteous little lady that you are."

"I am on the council because of the seat I have inherited through my father." Y/n referred to the original conversation for her being on the council, he wasn't even part of that decision yet acted like he knew better than anyone. Smugly sipping his wine as he set his cup aside, the inherent smirk on his face irritated her to no end.

"You are claiming the father's seat who didn't even want to claim you?" He scoffed, Aemond could attest for the fact that he did not hate her in full surety. Rather fond of her too, but he was fond of his lady wife. The soft lover he did not knew he needed, big eyes that held love for everything they were laid upon. Tenderness and warmth seeping out the cracks of her which would mend the hollow cracks in him but it was the council member in her, otto's silent weapon which he could not stand.

In the process of wanting to get back at righteous council member he couldn't stand he truly hurt the daughter that begged for her world to sun, tears brimmed her eyes and she could not help it. She struck him across the face, the nerve of him. Shattered the home she thought she might finally have. He simply flinched at her action, his eyes widened a bit not at her gesture but at her tears. Registering her tears before the slap she landed her, at loss of words. "Leave." She spoke with a shuddered breath, couldn't even meet his eyes. Feeling stripped of the hope and pride she spent days building. Y/n had never raised a hand to anyone, that didn’t exactly harm Aemond in any way still the gesture in itself made her feel ugly after a moment’s silence marinated the interaction.

Without saying a word Aemond did leave, he didn't want to retaliate with her in any way. Because in that very moment both of them took a misstep and he did not want that moment to last longer. In a few strides he was out of their chambers. Y/n gripped the table to steady herself as the tears streamed down her face, a restlessness made home within her chest as she took heavy breaths.

The weight of all her despair was so heavy, at times she would just shut them in case and shove them deep inside her heart and inside her mind so she wouldn't have to face them in retrospect. It all just felt so inescapable, how she begged to be her father's daughter and how she was rejected the whole time. Now, farther away from him, bit by bit being at peace with the people she now surrounded herself with. Even in such state of distress she didn't feel alone any longer, she even felt loved. As far stretched as it sounded she even felt at ease with Aemond and he shattered all of it with just one sentence.

She lost the track of time since the moments of Aemond walking out as she just stood there falling apart, but when she felt some footsteps behind her she wiped her tears trying to compose herself. If there was anything she learned from her father it was that, nobody ever cared how much you fall apart so don't give them a reason to hold against you. Daemon always hated weeping children. Quickly she wiped her tears, she wouldn't want Aemond to think of her weak in these times. With a deep sigh she turned to face the footsteps she assumed was Aemond.

Apparently it wasn't. "Yes?" She asked with furrowed brows to the stranger who just walked into the room, not even a knock or an announcement like the guards or servants. The man wasn't even dressed like a guard or a servant. She stood alarmed taking a step further into the table as the man forwarded towards here without a word. "Guard-" she tried to yell as loud as she could but the man grabbed her head in a swift motion and shoved her into the table's edge. As if to knock her unconscious.

"Not another word or I kill you." Blood said with his hands around her neck, about to choke her as she struggled against him. Trying to grasp against his hands on her, trying to suffocate her she kicked her legs. Tried to scream regardless of his warning. With an extreme distaste for her, obviously, in blood's eyes the princess wasn't even worth so much and too much trouble to smuggle out. "Your daddy wants you back."

-

By the time the guards did find the princess, in the hallways, she was already half unconscious. Immediately rescued into the safest place in the keep, the council. Retrieved but not at all unharmed. The council was already set into course for the subject of the young prince when Larys walked in with y/n. He had previously informed her of what had happened with her nephew, his passing it hadn't really struck her yet given she could barely process all that had happened.

Queen alicent gasped as she stood up quickly running to y/n's side, all the bruises on her face, open cuts and bleeding out the torn sleeves in her dress. "Gods..." she exclaimed in horror as she helped her onto her seat. "What happened to her?" She asked Lord Larys.

"The guards found the intruder, trying to smuggle the princess out of the keep. A gold cloak known for his brutal nature, found with her, having inflicted his brutality upon her and...the prince's head, in a sack." He briefed the council as they all listened to him, everyone else but the king at loss of words. As Lord Larys left alicent was still tending to y/n, cooing at her, she seemed to be in a half conscious state.

"I am alright" she muttered to her mother in law as Alicent nodded but held her hand in hers to provide her whatever consolation she could. Just the sight of having suffered such assault sent the queen into a huge distress. Weakly holding her hand back as if to steady herself into this nightmare. When Lord Larys told her of Jahaerys's tragedy she did not believe it at all. She was confidently positive there must be some mistake in his information because that would not be possible at all.

If it wasn't for Aegon screeching in the background, y/n couldn't make out if she was actually awake in this very moment. The ringing in her ears still hadn't gone out and she wished that she would perish with that same ringing if it were to happen because living through this seemed so difficult. No way to navigate, circumstance so heavy she felt paralysed to meet anyone's face. Aegon was screeching as he wept for his son, blind with rage to kill the man found guilty for the crime. The member advised otherwise saying the king has a lot of enemies and they don't know for sure whose hand it could be.

"I suppose you are right..." Aegon trailed off slowly pacing down the table back to his seat, with an accusatory demeanour towards everyone else "it could be anyone of you, in this room."

A small silence fell, strengthening the tension and grief in the room as y/n just stared at the empty seat beside her. That very morning, just the day prior, where her nephew sat. Then Aemond after him, empty now. "It was Daemon." She declared of what she knew for sure, first time in her life she referred to Daemon with his first name instead of her father. After everything that he did, every misery she endured at the hands of her father, what happened now made her want to be distanced and foreign from him as much as she could. "His doing." She breathed and looked at the council, the drained colour on everyone's face she just registered-it was blinding her. "The man—the gold cloak" she continue, "trying to get a hold of me, h-he—he said 'your daddy wants you back.'" Repeating the words sent a chill down her spine as if she was in that very moment again, she still felt those hands on her, suffocating and heavy. A disgusting play in the mix. “That man came here, on Daemon’s order.”

The rest were comprehending that still, how a man could be so crude not only killing a child but having his own assaulted and kidnapped back home like this? " In one sense, as we determine what happened and...if we in the keep are still in peril. In another sense of course...it doesn't matter." Otto said and looked at Y/n. The princess surely did not seem to understand the hand's implication.

However Lord Tyland did so, "You mean to blame Rhaenyra." He said in a beat. "Tell the realm she had done this." Tyland spoke out Otto's implication.

"I'll have the realm told nothing! We were assaulted within our own walls, within our own beds!" Aegon spoke up almost immediately "Y/n, my brother's wife! The fucking princess almost beaten unconscious—being smuggled out?" He emphasised on the word brother, enraged even for his sister in law and the lack of his brother's presence when it must have mattered the most. "I will not be seen as weak!"

"You are already seen as weak aegon." Otto replied once again sending the king into a manic breakdown as he threw around more cups and vases. Otto theorised about how important it was to name Rhaenyra as a cruel person. Killer of infants, despite of whose direct orders those were. The narrative would be what they made.

"You would change, the blood that is on daemon's hand just to spite Rhaenyra." Y/n questioned, red eyes and characteristically on the verge of tears since she walked in here. Alicent found it so hard to look at her face, the cuts and bruises, poor thing. The heavy torment inside her head must be unimaginable, Alicent thought whilst holding y/n's hand a bit tighter. It felt like one of those moments when she was just a child, so many years ago. She would recall, the girl child was such a loner, always speaking in short words that is if spoken to. The shy little girl, who would just sit in a corner and colour or read. So much like her Aemond yet so different. When they would be in public settings, too many people, she would meekly hold Alicent's hand. Amongst all those unfamiliar faces. Little y/n just deemed Alicent familiar, comfortable. What was so wholesome years ago held such horror now. Alicent holding the lady's hand to provide her comfort her words won't be able to, the protection she could not. "Why won't you paint that man for the monster that he is?!" Y/n spoke as her voice broke, it felt unfair. Daemon not being held accountable yet again.

"Because, Daemon isn't the pretender to the throne. He would be the king consort. Banners are being declared for Rhaenyra, not in his name." Otto explained, to his preference narrative was just a useful toy. One name here or there did not make a difference.

"That is unfair." She said shaking her head, tears brimmed her eyes, taking in short breaths. In all these council meetings she did not speak up against Otto considering him respectable and more learned yet today, "how can you keep on accounting for him...again and again?!" Y/n asked but she was begging in agony. "Y-You were here. Always present. And you never did anything—all his heinous crimes! You always had the opportunity to hold him responsible and you did nothing!" She exclaimed, not being able to help herself as she thought back to a conversation at this very table. A conversation she must not have been there for, but the hand would have.

"It is perhaps your shock and grief speaking for you." Otto replied, not moved by the young lady's accusations at all. "I for one, do not understand your place of reference"

"When he murdered my mother!" Y/n said, growing more and more restless with her speech. Otto must be right, it was all the piled up grief inside of her speaking for her in this very moment but she could not let the monster that was her father be off the hook again, "You could've held a proper council, had him pay for what he did and we wouldn't be seeing this day today! We have that chance now and yet again you would rather Rhaenyra take the blame for his barbarism!"

Otto felt silent for a moment, the girl's rage was justified to the extent of him having no answer for her but he knew to trust his wit more, "I cannot undo...my regrets. I assure you I hold a lot of remorse in having a part in letting daemon go from daemon to the rogue prince and now this...monster. But if we don't do this, he would become king consort. The word consort is a feeble adjective." What he said was supposed to make sense to y/n but she could not see past the rage and need for vengeance she held against her father. Looking away, she wiped her tears. "A funeral progress. Let them see the child. Let them look upon the works of this pretender to the throne." Otto proposed once y/n was assuming-ly settled.

"Father" Alicent said with weary and concerned eyes, such tragedy being shouted out as a public funeral procession sounded so vain.

"My king..." Otto waited for Aegon's presumedly understood voice.

"No..." Aegon answered firmly "I will not have my little son's body dragged through the street like a dead dog." As he said that y/n felt nearly faint. To this very moment she did not accept that the child had passed.

"Not dragged, honoured." Otto corrected. "Escorted to the dragon pits to be burned as a Targaryen prince!" Otto went on and on about how he loved his grandson, his heart was in the right place with the grief yet the path he set was in accordance with the warpath. Just plots and schemes. Falling silent, paralysed y/n looked down to her lap. She refused to even register this conversation because it meant registering the fact that a darling child, Jahaerys...was gone.

Aegon couldn't stomach this proposal which came as an already arranged firm announcement either, looking around the room nobody said a word against the hand's plan. "You would say nothing?!" He demanded of y/n, why won't somebody help this mad notion. "Your dear nephew, have you nothing to add?" He was almost begging, hoping she would get the hand to change his mind for this funeral procession. She didn't, y/n just looked up at Aegon and then Alicent, tears in her eyes which just didn't seem to stop flowing. "Mother." Aegon called out when y/n couldn't speak up.

Leaving y/n's side Alicent walk's up to aegon, "the hand sets a difficult path, my darling. But it might be the right one." She told her inconsolable soul.

"Let the silent sisters ready the prince for his final journey." Otto said without waiting a moment for the king or anyone to come forth with opposition "And riding behind him, his mother the queen, the princess and the queen dowager."

"No, I do not wish to be spectacle." Alicent opposed instantly, the weariness and fright in y/n's eyes speaking the same "Especially y/n, not in this state. She can barely talk-stand, she has been terrorised. You can't simply—"

"The realm must see the sorrow of the crown. A sorrow best expressed through its gentle souls." Otto said followed by alicent sighing, then he looked at the side to y/n, "We need to display our heavily victimised as well" he said, the bleeding wounds on her face seemed like little trophies of sympathy to Otto. "I think you'll all agree the king himself must be spared."

-

A deafening silence lingered within Aemond, he had been out, sharpening out his swords, practising. Fucking practising on jute bags when he should've been there. Y/n was in Alicent's chambers because she could not walk into her own, couldn't even take in the sight of it. The thrashed furniture, from her struggling against the intruding gold cloak. The...the sack. In which he had stored the boy's head. Where the man had placed it in her chamber, at the entrance, it had created a circular stain of blood. Jahaerys's blood. She could not even think about the room within those four walls without picturing the insidious crime. She sat on the floor against the bed, windows open and soft white light of the day seeping in yet to y/n it still felt like a night of hailstorm. She didn't even look up to the footsteps of the stride coming inside the room, Aemond. He walked to her, kneeling down to the floor to her level.

Aemond was drenched with so much guilt in his heart, he felt pathetic to even breathe the same air as his lady wife. She had her face turned away from him, he could just see the small cuts on her face, the torn dress, still seeping out dried blood, her weary stature. It was all mortifying in the first place. He was so livid, with himself, with the intruder. Even with Larys, who informed him about the happenings at the last. By the time he rushed back inside the council was already done with. He had nothing he could say to y/n, no way of consoling her either.

It's not as if she would want to be consoled by him too, the emotional support he would want to offer her walked out with him when he walked out after their fight the previous night. With the disturbing things that had happened with her, she had almost forgotten the words he said. She couldn't even remember why she was crying before it all, that sick with grief. Aemond gently held her chin, hesitantly afraid she would turn him away. She had every right to do so. She didn't move him away, had no energy to do so. His heart sank as he saw the blood streaked stitches, poorly done and most of her wounds left untreated. "Why are these open?" He asked her softly, referring to her wounds, "Where are the maesters?"

"The hand, has asked for these to be left raw as they were planted." Y/n briefed him, her voice was so wavering, all that crying. "He means for them to be displayed for the funeral procession...so the realm can see" y/n scoffed softly as she repeated otto's exact words.

"You don't have to go." Aemond told her in a firm way, sure that he could get the hand to change his mind whether he liked it or not because y/n's comfort was his priority.

"No..." she trailed off, in agreement refraining to look at him her voice held no emotion. "But I do. I have to." She continued "Wouldn't want Haelena to be alone"

"Mother would be with her." Aemond added taking her hands in his softly, finally getting her to react to his presence as she looked down upon his gesture. Apparently to take her hands out of his grasp.

"But then I would be alone here..." She trailed off, a hint of frustration and fright in her tone. "I don't want to be alone."

"I would be with you, y/n." Aemond cooed softly fixing the loose strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear as he leant forward. “You won’t be alone.”

"I find myself unable to put faith in you, Aemond." She breathed looking down, she felt like a cornered animal, just so scared and full of distrust. "...in your assurance. I'd rather not."

Aemond had nothing he could say to that. She did not trust the integrity of his principles and rightfully so. He knew he had broken that trust of security within her. "My heart, I apologise for the distress I have caused you. I did not mean any of it" he told her but the heaviness in his heart told him his words would change nothing. She couldn't talk either, bursting into tears and her stitches seemed to hurt because her face moved but she was so much numbed to the physical pain in comparison to how she felt inside. Aemond could just offer her his embrace in this time and that is what he did. Enlacing her into her arms, rubbing her back in soothing circles her let her cry into his chest. "They will pay for this." He muttered softly as he continued to hold her. Even with the pain he made her feel, the distrust and hurt she felt just in seeing Aemond could not let her turn away the familiarity of his comfort. His was the only comfort she had ever known.

-

Once again clarifying that the brothel subplot is absolutely NON EXISTENT in this fic Aemond Targaryen is a lot of things but not a cheater <333

Pls let know what you think about this + added to the tg list🫧

-

🏷️ @love-is-a-dagger @daddzawa @1109002 @void21 @annedub @teapartydreams @batmans-love @ih8books @oopsdownloadedrumblragain-blog @aemondwhoresworld @unsweetenedpeatea @immyowndefender @aleemendoza2425-blog @vane282-blog @atargaryenlover @targaryenswhxre @sabii5 @vibescanner @darylandbethfanforever9

[seungkw1]

ring my bell  — ljh

♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni] ♡ wc: 7k ♡ warnings: sub!reader, but also subby!jihoon, size kink, praise kink, auralism/ecouteurism, masturbation (m. & f.), oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), cum swallowing, creampie, cockwarming, dacryphilia, size kink, hair pulling, gagging, missionary, 69, nipple play/boob worship, multiple orgasms, sex toys, mild alcohol consumption, did i mention size kink, lil fluff at the end ♡ a/n: i abandoned this fic at least five times lmao but then one night at like 2am the brain rot took over and here we are! tysm to @wonwovy for beta reading, @shinysobi for the title suggestion, and @miniseokminnies for help w the photos <3

When you moved into your new condo, you were pretty sure you hit the jackpot. At first, you were a bit suspicious - how could the rent be so low in this part of town, with such a nice building? But for two months after you moved in, you’ve had no problems. Sure, the shower head is a bit leaky sometimes, and you could use a bit more storage space, but overall - no complaints. As an added bonus the unit next to you was vacant - aka, peace and quiet. Perfection. 

That vacancy didn't last forever, though. Two months in, and you found yourself with a new neighbor. You haven't had a chance to properly introduce yourself to him yet, but from the brief glimpses of him you've gotten he seems nice. You suspect he's around your age, a bit quiet, definitely keeps to himself but has been very polite in passing. And while he's not exactly your type, you do admit he is pretty cute. So, nothing wrong with him. 

You did, however, quickly discover two major problems. One, it turns out the walls are paper fucking thin. And two - to make matters worse - his bedroom is apparently right on the other side of yours, sharing a wall. And you can hear everything. 

By the sounds of it, the guy is single. You never hear any other voices, just his - soft moans emanating through the sad excuse for a wall, gradually getting louder, culminating in a symphony of unholy noises. You've never heard a man be so… vocal before. 

At first, you just try to ignore it. Obviously, he's doing nothing wrong - this is simply a consequence of shared living spaces. So you do your best to mind your business. 

Easier said than done. 

A week passes. You still haven't had a chance to actually say hi to your new neighbor, but you already feel like you've become intimately acquainted with him. It feels a bit… wrong. This is very clearly a one-sided situation. You don't even know the guy’s name for fuck’s sake. Yet, each time, a sharp aching sensation forms a pit in your stomach. You find yourself fantasizing about him -  wishing you could be on the other side of the wall, wishing you were the one responsible for the sounds being produced. 

You've gone and fallen for a complete stranger - or at least, the idea of him. Fucking great. 

You just need to actually meet him, you tell yourself. He could be a complete asshole. Or maybe just not your type at all. Once you say hi, you'll get over this silly little fantasy in no time. 

I’ll make sure to run into him tomorrow, you determine. You go to bed, content with your plan. 

Not five minutes after you crawl under the covers, you start to hear faint groans. 

You reach for your airpods, but they're not on your nightstand. You must have left them in the other room. 

It’s fine, you decide. It’ll be over soon enough. 

But tonight, apparently, he is taking his sweet time. 

You stuff your head under the pillows, trying to drown out the sensual sounds, but the moaning persists. Even muffled it’s loud - and it only gets worse as the minutes pass. 

Just when you think he’s about to finish, the sounds cease. Thank god, you think as you roll over, ready to finally get some sleep. 

But a minute later he starts up again. Slowly at first, once again taking his time, increasing his speed at an excruciatingly slow pace. Eventually his breaths grow shorter, his groaning louder. Then, he stops. 

As if he set out to torment you tonight, he begins once more.  

You lay there, eyes closed, unmoving, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the aching between your legs. But it's impossible. 

The third time around, he's clearly very on edge. His moans turn loud, whiny, pathetic. It's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard. 

Don’t do it don't do it don't do it…

As if your arm has gained a mind of its own, your hand slides beneath the fabric of your underwear. You gasp as your fingers slip between your folds - you're fucking wet. 

Your already-throbbing bud pulsates between your fingers. Slowly, you begin to rub your clit. The sensation is immediately overwhelming; the uninhibited cries of pleasure emanating from the other side of the wall are enough to send you over the edge. Just when you think you can't take another moment of this, he cums. And so do you. 

Your free hand clasps over your mouth just in time. You try as hard as you possibly can to stay silent - but you want to scream. You writhe against the sheets to the sound of his release, riding out your orgasm on your fingertips. Muffled cries escape despite your efforts - but are lost amidst the man’s sea of moans. You cum long and hard, savoring every last moment of your high. 

As you start to come down, you sink into your mattress, body spent, mind drifting off. Your neighbor seems to have exhausted himself too - the only sounds carrying through the wall now being that of deep breaths. 

So much for running into him tomorrow. 

You flop over onto your side, shoving the thought away - but you know even if you try, you can't avoid him forever. 

You just pray to god he didn't hear you. 

Of course, after a week without any encounters, you manage to run into him the very next day. 

Upon returning from the grocery store, you head to your building’s elevator. The doors are closing as you approach, so you figure you'll just take the next one - but the occupant holds the door for you. 

“Thank you,” you say cheerfully, but as you step inside your stomach drops. You are face to face with your new neighbor.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, making direct eye contact with you. You want to disappear into the walls, but you maintain your composure. The button for your floor is already lit up, so he presses the close door button. 

“I believe I just moved into the unit next to yours,” he says as you set your heavy bags on the floor. “I've seen you around but haven't had a chance to introduce myself. I’m Jihoon.”

He extends his hand out to you. You instantly regret setting your bags down. 

You smile calmly, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are. But as you slide your hand into his, your heart rate rises. It doesn't help that he has really nice hands - large, warm, with fingers long and graceful, and a nice strong grip against your own hand. Your mind flashes back to the events of last night, picturing what those hands were doing…

Stop it. 

“I’m y/n,” you reply with a smile, trying to be as normal as possible. “Nice to meet you.”

You withdraw your hand from his grasp as he lets go - nonchalantly, but with haste. Any longer and your palms would have probably started sweating. 

“So, how are you liking it here so far?” you ask casually. 

“So far so good,” he replies. “I'm honestly surprised that I was able to find anything in this part of town for such a good deal. Nice and quiet here too.”

Quiet. 

You fear your suspicions are correct: he has no idea he's been putting on a nightly show for you. 

The elevator gives a soft ding as it comes to a stop. You reach down to grab your bags as the door opens. 

“Can I help you with that?” 

“Oh, uh… sure.”

He picks up the heavy bags with ease. You could tell that he’s a muscular guy, but up close he looks straight up beefy. It doesn't help that the tight shirt he's wearing hugs all his muscles perfectly, his biceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves. You force yourself to look away before you start fucking drooling. 

He delivers the bags to your front door. He returns them to you with care, making sure you have a firm grip on the handles before letting go. His hand lingers upon yours momentarily - the lightest brush of his fingertips against yours enough for your insides to do a somersault. 

“Thanks again,” you tell him, making the mistake of direct eye contact again. 

“Of course,” Jihoon replies warmly. “See you around.”

You flash him a smile, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Bye!!” you blurt abruptly as you unlock your front door, hurrying inside. You want to turn around, get one more good look at him - but you shut the door behind you. 

Your head spins as you put your groceries away. You're so wrapped up in your imagination that you nearly put the milk in the cabinet. But you can't stop daydreaming about what those muscles look like underneath his shirt. 

You finish up and head into your bedroom. A nice hot shower should clear your mind. Not two seconds after taking off your shirt, you freeze. The familiar sounds from next door have begun yet again. 

You stand there, half horrified, half horny. Surely it's nothing more than coincidence that your neighbor got home and started jacking off minutes after having a conversation with you. He was probably gonna do that anyway, you try to convince yourself. You're just having main character syndrome right now, this has nothing to do with you. 

But your gut is telling you otherwise. 

Mindlessly your fingers drift to your bra clasp, removing the garment. Taking your breast in one hand you stroke your thumb over your nipple, already hard from sudden exposure to the cool air of your room. You let yourself stand there for a minute, listening to Jihoon’s soft moans, imagining you could see him through the wall, slowly stroking his cock in his hands. 

You feel guilty, ashamed, but the aching in your cunt overpowers any sense of remorse. Your hand makes its way into your pants, your fingers gliding through your folds, slipping easily into your soaked pussy. You wince silently, stifling the moans desperately trying to escape you. Slowly, you begin to fuck yourself. You can't help but think about how it would feel if it were Jihoon’s fingers inside you instead. 

You stand there for a couple minutes, your clit throbbing against the motion of your palm - threatening to make you scream and cum. 

You can't let him hear you, you keep telling yourself. But part of you almost wants him to hear you. You picture him getting so turned on hearing your cries of pleasure that he cums instantly, all over himself, making a huge mess that you would love nothing more than to help clean up. 

You feel your climax rapidly approaching. You cease moving your fingers, but let them remain resting inside you. You try to calm yourself down, taking deep breaths to slow your pounding heart, but just as your head starts to clear you hear a sudden swell of orgasmic sounds from through the wall. As if by reflex your hand moves again. Your body tremors at the pressure against your overstimulated clit - you cum in silence, forcing your cries back inside you as . You ride out your high, and so does Jihoon, his moans slowly softening as he comes back down. 

Heart pounding, you slowly remove your fingers from your cunt. Your hand is soaked; you find yourself wishing it was Jihoon's face instead, glistening with your juices after eating you out, making you cum an unreasonable amount of times. 

You sigh. You know this should all feel wrong. But why does it feel so good then?

A strange combination of feelings overtake your body: tingling bliss from your orgasm, guilt from the reason for your orgasm, an overpowering yearning for the touch of essentially an entire stranger. 

You strip the remainder of your clothes off and proceed to take a very long, very hot shower. 

You wake up the next morning stupidly horny.

It didn’t help that you had a dream about Jihoon. In it, you were standing in his bedroom, watching him masturbate to the sight of you. His cries echoing through your subconscious, the pathetic look on this face as he came all over himself - it’s not surprising you woke up to a puddle between your legs.

You pause, listening to see if you can hear your neighbor next door, but you hear nothing. You reach into your nightstand, pulling out your favorite vibrator. The purple device rumbles in your hand as you turn it on. For a vibrator, it’s pretty quiet, but with your stupid thin walls you know it would be perfectly audible from the other side. You think Jihoon isn’t around - surely you would hear him if he were - but even if he is, you truly don’t even care anymore. You position the toy lightly upon your clit - even through the fabric of your underwear, its powerful vibrations instantly feel amazing. A soft groan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips begin to move lightly at the stimulation - the pressure of the vibrator’s end causing your wetness to stick to your panties. You attempt to restrain your moaning, but before long you cease resisting. It feels too good. Your orgasm quickly builds in your gut, making you whimper as you squirm against your pillow, its intensity growing and growing until - you cum. The fire of your release burns through your body, your cries filling the air without abandon. Deep breaths fill your lungs as you come down, soft gasps emanating from your lips as you turn the toy off and toss it aside. 

A series of thunks echo from through the wall, followed by a hushed “shit”.

It sounds like somebody dropping a phone or something, but whatever it is - turns out your neighbor was home after all. Whoops.

In your post-orgasm bliss you begin to drift back to sleep. You don’t know what you’re going to do now next time you run into Jihoon, but that’s a problem for later.

You end up sleeping in far too late. By the time you wake up, you feel groggy and sluggish, so you figure going to the gym will help you feel a little better. You don a soft pink pair of leggings and a light gray sports bra, filling your water bottle and grabbing your airpods on your way out the door. You wait in the hallway for the elevator. It reaches your floor with a ding, its doors sliding open to reveal who other than your next door neighbor. 

Of fucking course.

He appears to be returning from the gym, his tight white t-shirt clinging to his body in a way that practically puts all his muscles on display. His dark hair is damp and sweaty, messy, stray strands of it sticking to his forehead. He looks up to see you standing there, a panicked look instantly filling his eyes. His skin is already flush from exercising, but his ears turn practically crimson at the sight of you. 

“Hi,” you say with a friendly smile.

He freezes, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. He quickly tries to shake it off.

“Oh, uh, hey,” he mumbles in an attempted nonchalant tone, but already his cheeks are becoming more flustered. You see his eyes flicker up and down your body - your outfit isn’t terribly revealing, but it’s certainly on the sexier side of athleticwear. He stands there, awkwardly frozen - so long that the elevator door begins to shut again. He grabs hold of it, triggering the motion sensor so it reopens. He starts to shuffle past you, but you decide you’re feeling bold enough to try and engage him in a conversation.

“Just coming back from the gym?” you ask casually.

He stops in the hallway, standing right before you.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you also go to the one over on Clark Street?” you question. You won’t hold him up too long - he looks like he wants to perish - but you figure you’ll torment him for another minute or so.  “That’s where I’m headed now.”

“Yeah, I do,” he answers, subtly shifting his gym bag in front of his body. 

“Cool! Maybe we’ll see each other there sometime,” you tell him in a chipper tone. 

“Maybe, yeah. That’d be cool,” he replies, smiling nervously.

You enter the elevator and press the ground floor button.

“Well, see ya around!” you tell him with a wave.

“You too,” he responds, not taking his eyes off you until the elevator door shuts closed.

Three days pass - three days of pure silence from the other side of the wall. 

Now that Jihoon has discovered the truth, he's clearly mortified. You catch a few glimpses of him around the building, but the man practically vanishes at the sight of you. You feel a little bit bad, but you know the ruse could not have lasted forever anyway. 

Unless he somehow knows exactly when you're not home and has been jacking off exclusively then, you haven't heard him pull his dick out at all. And judging by the couple times you've seen him, the man has been incredibly on edge. 

You return home a bit late in the evening after hanging out with some friends. You’ve had a fair bit of wine, so you're feeling a little tipsy, but you're in a pleasantly good mood. You're also decently horny; your mind drifts to your neighbor, conjuring up the image of him returning from the gym, sweaty, muscular, his t-shirt damp and tightly fitted against his sculpted body. 

Not two minutes pass after you step inside before you hear the SLAM of a door from the hallway. Footsteps approach your unit, followed by frantic knocking on your front door. 

You scurry over to the entrance, reaching out to unlock the door, but the pit in your stomach makes you pause. What if he’s mad at you? you start to worry. 

Well, only one way to find out. 

With the click the deadbolt turns. You swing the door open to reveal Jihoon, in a plain white t-shirt and grey fucking sweatpants. 

He stares at you, standing frozen in your doorway. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to calculate if this is all a mistake. 

After just enough moments of silence for it to be awkward, he clears his throat. 

“Hi, um… May I come in?”

He looks incredibly tense, but the way he's staring at you with such intensity makes your pussy ache. 

“Sure.”

You step aside, gesturing for him to come in. 

He enters. He takes a look around as you shut the door behind him. 

“It's really nice in here,” he comments, attempting to make small talk. 

“Oh, thank you,” you say with a friendly smile. He looks even more nervous now that he's in your apartment. He pauses, nonchalantly observing some of the artwork on your wall, seemingly trying (and failing) to come up with a good segue into whatever he came over here to say. 

“So, um…” he starts, rubbing his hands together anxiously. 

“I just wanted to… uh… well, I figured I should probably let you know…” 

You inch even closer to him as he stumbles over his words; his shoulders tense slightly. He runs one hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. 

“I guess I just wanted to apologize,” he finally is able to articulate. “I just recently realized that the walls in this building are pretty thin and uh… well I guess I don’t know if I've been loud at all…” 

Blushed redness creeps up his neck as his terrible lying resonates through the room. 

Maybe it's the way he's standing there, doing nothing but stumbling over his words yet looking incredibly sexy, or maybe it's the wine - but you're feeling bold today. 

“Yeah, you have been.”

The pale color of his cheeks suddenly goes even paler, turning his entire face sheet-white as he stands there, horrified. Then, the redness returns with a vengeance. He looks like a very hot, very nervous tomato. 

“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I really had no idea-”

“Why are you apologizing?”

He stares at you, confused. 

“Um…”

He waits for you to clarify, but you don't. Seeing him this flustered up close and personal has your panties soaked already, and you want to revel in it. 

He lets out a deep sigh. 

“I just… I know I can be loud sometimes, but from now on I’ll be more conscientious of my… volume. And I just don't want you to think I’m perverted or anything…”

He shakes his head, realizing he's just digging himself a deeper hole at this point. 

“Anyway, I’m really sorry to bother you, I should get going-”

He tries to slip past you, but you throw your arm out in front of him, slamming your palm into the wall of the narrow hallway as you block him from exiting. He freezes, involuntarily holding his breath as panic spreads across his face. 

“What if I like it?”

Your arm brushes against his torso, his chest heaving into you with his quickening breaths. 

“What?” he asks, barely more than a whisper, clearly taken aback by your question. 

“What if I like hearing you?”

His eyes widen. You step even closer into his personal space, your face now mere inches from his. 

“What if I want to hear you making those noises on this side of the wall, in my bed?”

You grasp onto his t-shirt, yanking his body into yours. He lets out a gasp as your tits press into his chest - his mouth is now so close to yours that you feel the exhale against your lips. 

“Would you like that?”

He gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. Then - he kisses you. 

It's not a delicate kiss, nor is it sweet. He kisses you as if he intends to devour you, hungrily tugging at your lips as he grasps at your waist fervorously, aching to touch every inch of you. 

His large hands slip underneath your shirt, gripping your sides tight as he caresses your warm skin. Your heart races in your chest, the sounds of rushing blood flooding your ears as you kiss Jihoon, savoring the sweet taste of his lips, basking in the radiant heat of his body against yours. 

“Oh wow,” he mutters into your mouth as his lips depart yours briefly. 

You grasp onto his tshirt, balling the fabric in your fists, pulling him with you as you stumble toward your bedroom together, still kissing him. 

As you step through the doorway, you tug on his shirt, prompting him to remove it. He pauses, contemplating the taste of wine lingering on your lips.

“Are you… drunk?” he asks delicately. “I just want to make sure…”

“A little,” you reply, leaning into him, so close that the vibrations of your soft-spoken words resonate against his lips.

“But I know what I want.”

Jihoon squeezes the flesh of your hips, his grip unrelentless, as if someone was going to take you away from him. A thick bulge beneath his sweatpants presses against you as he holds you tightly against him.

“And what do you want?” he asks in a low voice, staring at you hungrily. “Tell me.”

“First,” you start, pulling at his shirt again. “Get rid of this.”

He yanks his tshirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Standing before you now, shirtless, you get a true look at his brawny figure: huge biceps framing his body, thick pectorals protruding from his chest, chiseled abs sculpting his stomach. The man has muscles you didn’t even know existed. You delicately drag your fingertips up and down his torso, admiring him; his cock twitches against you at your touch.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” you mumble as you gaze into his eyes - giving him the most pathetic, needy, seductive look you can muster. 

Redness spreads across his neck and chest. He’s clearly easily flustered (at least, for you), and you plan to take full advantage of this. 

You slip one finger beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging lightly. 

“Now, get rid of these.”

Obediently, he slides his pants down, having to stretch the elastic further to get it over his bulge. Kicking the sweats off, you get a clearer look at what he’s packing. Even through the dark fabric of his underwear, the outline of his hard cock is undeniable - not only long, but thick. Your pussy clenches at the mere sight of his size. 

You can't wait any longer. You run your hand over his clothed cock, feeling its weight in your palm. Jihoon groans, letting out the sweet sound you've until now only heard muffled through the wall. Hearing him now, here, in your bedroom - it's music to your ears. 

Reaching into his underwear, you grip your hand around his girth - he nearly whimpers at the sensation. You give him a few strokes before pulling his cock fully out, causing you to let out an audible gasp. 

Fucking shit.

Jihoon gives you an embarrassed smile, making you realize you said that out loud and not just in your head. But if anything your reaction wasn't even dramatic enough, because his cock is fucking huge. You take him in your fist, slowly pumping up and down; his eyes roll back into his head, letting out a deep sigh as you stroke him. You press your lips into his neck, planting delicate kisses into the soft skin.

“Oh god,” he groans under his breath. 

With his dick twitching in your hand, growing stiff and somehow even longer, you drop to your knees, positioning your face directly beneath the behemoth of a cock. You gaze up at him as you drag your tongue from his base to his tip; he strokes your cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, gazing down at you with a look of equal parts admiration and lust. You swirl your tongue around the head, tasting the precum that has dribbled out. Taking just a tiny bit of his tip between puckered lips, you begin suckling on it, lapping up his juices and teasing him with the bare-minimum stimulation. His low hum swells into a moan as you slowly slide his cock into your mouth, taking as much of his length as possible before you start to choke (Not yet, you think to yourself. Save that for later.)

“Fuck, you look so good right now,” he groans, cupping your cheek in his large hand as you stare up at him with big doe eyes. “So beautiful with my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.” 

Sharp throbbing pulses between your legs at the slightest of praise. You slide your mouth up and down his length, gradually increasing your pace. His tip hitting the back of your mouth only makes you want more, makes you want to swallow him whole, gag on the entire shaft as his massive size fills your throat. Finally, you can resist no longer - you swallow the rest of him, your lips greeting his base as his full length slides down your throat. Tears instantly begin welling in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, choking on Jihoon’s cock.

He places one hand upon your hair, grasping it in his fist as you give him the absolute sloppiest head he’s ever received. Grotesque gagging sounds emanate from your throat, but are nearly drowned out by the lewd string of moans coming from Jihoon. He wants nothing more than to watch you choke on his cock, see your tears flowing freely as you stare up at him, eyes longingly transfixed upon each other - but he can’t help but shut his eyes, head falling back at the overwhelming pleasure you’re making him feel. It starts to take over his whole body - his hips reflexively begin thrusting, sinking his length deep into your throat. Before long he pulls you by the hair, wresting you off of him; strings of saliva stretch from his drenched cock to your coated lips, bubbles of spit running down your chin. 

“Sorry, that was going to make me cum way too fast,” he tells you with a sheepish smile. “You’re just so- ohhh…” His sentence is cut off by you placing one of his balls in your mouth, lightly sucking on it before taking the other as well. 

“Fuck that’s hot,” he grumbles, stroking your hair gently. You shift on your knees, trying to sit more comfortably upon the floor; Jihoon notices.

“Come here,” he instructs as he pulls you up off the floor. “I want you to be comfortable.” 

He brings you over to the bed, laying down atop it. You go to resume your place between his legs, but he grabs your arms to stop you.

“You should take these off,” he insists, tugging at your clothes with desperation in his eyes. “Please. I wanna see you.”

You pull your shirt over your head, discarding it to the floor. Slowly you unfasten your pants, sliding them down your hips - a bit timidly, for as horny as you are right now you’re suddenly afflicted with a wave of shyness. But the way Jihoon is looking at you - eyes glazed over with pure lust, licking his lips like he wants to devour you - is driving you utterly crazy. You swiftly remove your bra and panties, standing nude before him as he marvels at the sight of you.

“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly. Your pussy clenches, attempting to alleviate the powerful aching in your core. Jihoon takes your hand, drawing you into the side of the bed.

“Sit on my face. Please.”

It’s not an order; the way he is looking up at you, squeezing your hand - he’s begging.

“Only if I can suck your cock at the same time,” you say with a cheeky grin. His eyes widen. 

“Would you like that?” you ask coyly, batting your eyelashes at him as you trace circles on his stomach with one fingernail. 

“Y-yeah,” he whimpers, his voice cracking slightly.  

“Good.”

You crawl onto the bed, swinging your legs over Jihoon’s head as you face his painfully erect cock. You situate yourself steadily, lowering your pussy toward his face, until you feel his soft, plush lips against you. Instantly he lets out a loud moan, the vibrations against your soaked core triggering a sharp jolt in your stomach. He wraps his arms around your inner thighs, holding you tight against him, his moans still resonating through the room even with his face buried in your cunt. 

He begins to work his tongue deep into your folds, licking every last bit, lapping up as much of your juices as he possibly can - the rest certainly dripping down his chin. You lean over, reaching for his thick cock one more; you grip the base tight in your fist, stroking the hilt while taking the rest in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length. The pathetic noises coming from under your cunt grow even louder - Jihoon begins to squirm underneath you, bucking his hips as he continues eating you out as if the world were ending tomorrow. He latches onto your clit, suckling on the stimulated bud; you cry out, but the sound is garbled amidst your cacophony of unbridled gagging noises. Your eyes flood with tears as your orgasm rapidly approaches - you grind your hips on his face, stimulating your pussy further and further, the burning in your gut swelling and swelling, your legs trembling even in Jihoon’s tight embrace. Your whole body convulses atop of his as you reach your climax. Desperate for air, you pull your head up, your mouth now empty but quickly refilled with cries of pleasure as you cum all over Jihoon’s face. 

“Oh my godddd,” you wail, your mind going blank as every nerve in your body lights up like fireworks. 

“Oh my god, oh fuckkkk, Jihoon…”

The rumbling vibrations of his groaning carry you through an overpowering orgasm; you ride out your high as he sucks on your clit mercilessly while his nose presses into your cunt. You’re seeing stars as you begin to come down, unable to think any coherent thoughts - instead basking in how fucking incredible Jihoon just made you feel. 

You lift your throbbing pussy off his face, giving your poor overstimulated clit a moment to recover. 

“Gonna cum, ‘m so close,” Jihoon moans. You quickly pop his dick back into your mouth, sliding his length in and out, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his cock like your life depends on it. 

“Ahh, ahhhhh, ah fuck-” 

Hot white ropes shoot deep into your throat as he releases. His melodic moans and whining cries form a grand symphony that fills your bedroom - in this moment, you are absolutely certain that you've never heard a more beautiful sound. 

His cock pulsates in your mouth, letting out every last spurt of cum for you to eagerly swallow. As he finishes, you slowly slide his cock out of your mouth - still marveling at the sheer size of it. 

“Oh my god,” he groans softly. You swing your leg over his head, turning yourself around to lay beside him. You wrap your arms around his torso, becoming the big spoon as you nuzzle your face into his neck. 

“Wow,” he proclaims with a deep, satisfied exhale. He lays silently as he recovers, catching his breath and coming back down to earth. Finally, with a sigh, he turns to face you. You raise your head up enough for your noses to meet. 

Jihoon gazes into your eyes, eyelids heavy in his post-orgasmic bliss. He hesitates, bringing his hand up to your cheek and cradling it gently. 

“Can I kiss you?” he finally asks, his voice no more than a soft whisper. 

You nod. He kisses you - this time not hungry and desperate, but slow and saccharine. Your lips lock, laying there entangled in each other’s embrace - his muscular arms hold you tight, enveloping you in the warmth radiating from both of your sweat-covered bodies. As your lips eventually part, you remain snuggled by his side - him playing with your hair while you trace your fingertips over his toned body. Eventually, he takes your chin delicately in his hand, tilting your face up to look at him. 

“I don’t know if fucking your next door neighbor is necessarily a wise thing to do,” he starts. “But that was incredible. You’re incredible.”

You smile. 

“I don't know either,” you chuckle. “But the way you basically broke down my door to come fuck me was really hot.”

Jihoon laughs, his face lighting up with a beaming smile. 

“Yeah, um. I'm not entirely sure what compelled me to do that.”

“I do,” you inform him. “You were thinking with your dick.”

“Okay yeah, you're right,” he admits with a grin. 

He reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, squeezing your palm. 

“Would you want to do this again?” 

“Like, right now?” you reply. 

“No I mean like- … well, yes actually,” he answers, his face lighting up with excitement. “But I meant like, in the future.”

You nod, a wide grin spreading across your face. 

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Me too.”

“But also…”

Your arms grab hold of him, rolling him over on top of you. He tries to shift, to not be placing his whole weight upon you, but you cling to him tightly, holding him in place. You roll your hips, stroking his still half-erect cock with your soaked cunt; you feel it pulse in response, already beginning to harden again. 

“I want you to fuck me,” you speak softly into his ear, continuing to grind your pussy on his cock. His eyes roll back in his head once more. 

“God you're so fucking hot,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes open again, peering down at you amorously. 

“Give me just a minute, baby,” he says as he shifts downward, positioning himself directly in front of your boobs. He grabs one with each hand, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp. He licks your nipple, swirling his tongue around the protruding bud, wetting it with his warm mouth before switching to your other breast. He gives them equal attention, licking and sucking on them, back and forth - whichever boob isn't in his mouth, he pinches your hard nipple, squeezing and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You press your hips up into his stomach, seeking any relief for your aching clit, but it's not enough. You whimper as he latches on to your left nipple, suckling on it so long you think you might cum again just from this. You feel the bed move beneath you as he grinds his cock against the sheets, thrusting into the mattress, seeking relief for his returned erection. 

He lifts his head up, releasing his latch on your breast with a wet-sounding pop. His eyes stay fixed on you as he shifts further down the bed, resting comfortably between your legs as his lips hover above your cunt. 

“Is this okay?” he checks before placing his mouth on you. You nod earnestly, brushing your fingers through his damp, messy hair. His tongue locates your entrance, slipping into your pussy, his nose brushing up against your clit, still highly sensitive from your first orgasm. You moan as his tongue glides through your folds, his face becoming soaked once again in your juices. He flickers over your clit, the warmth and wetness of his tongue quickly sending you over the edge. Your body writhes beneath him as you cum a second time, crying out with even greater pleasure than the first. It's almost overbearing, but you relish in it, delicious waves of bliss pulsating throughout your whole being. His tongue slows, licking you softly as you lay there, unable to move for a few good minutes, basking in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your fist slowly unclenches, releasing the grip you didn't realize you had on his tousled locks. 

“Damn,” you mumble, a big goofy grin spreading across your face. Jihoon crawls back up toward you, kissing you with lips drenched in your own cum. His cock, fully hard once more, brushes against your cunt. Although you're still trying to catch your breath, you place your entrance against his tip to taunt him. 

“Please fuck me,” you beg, desperate to feel him inside you. 

He pushes his cockhead into your pussy, letting out a moan as he feels your warmth. Your walls tighten as he slides the rest of his length in, fully enveloping his cock - he whines, loudly, letting the delicious sensation overtake him. He rests for a moment inside you, fearing to move as he feels the urge to cum already. But he’s too aroused to resist for much longer - slowly he begins to pump into you, deep thrusts stretching you out, filling you up like you've never felt before. He’s almost too big, but you love it. Tears well in your eyes again as he fucks you -  slow and tender at first, but gradually increasing his pace, soon pounding into you with powerful force. The stretch is overwhelming, but his long strokes and perfect tempo have you screaming his name, voluminous cries filling the air as he fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before. 

“You’re taking me so well baby,” he praises, his voice low and breathy. “So pretty…”

His voice trails off. High-pitched grunts and groans escape him as his body begins to stiffen, another climax rapidly on its way. He drives his cock into you, your perfect pussy squeezing him so tight that he can't think straight. 

“Y/n…” he cries. “Fuck, y/n I'm cumming…”

With several powerful thrusts he releases deep inside you, warm cum filling you up until you're completely full - so full that it begins to leak out of you, coating his cock and dripping all over the sheets. He finishes, laying frozen on top of you, heaving breaths echoing in your ear as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck. His cock rests inside you still, twitching occasionally against your walls. His breathing becomes so steady that you start to think he’s fallen asleep - but eventually he lifts his head, resting his temple on his fist as he takes in the sight of you, so pretty and fucked out beneath him. A lazy smile appears on his face as he stares at you, his pink cheeks glowing in his post-orgasm state. He looks so good that you involuntarily let out a little giggle. 

“What?” he asks, his grin growing wider. 

“You're just really hot, that's all.”

His face somehow turns even rosier. He lets out an embarrassed tsk as he tries to hide his face in his hands. 

“What? You are!!” you proclaim, pulling his hands away so you can see him again. 

“Sorry,” he replies timidly. “I’m not good with compliments.”

“You'll get used to it,” you say matter-of-factly. He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“You say that like this is going to be a regular thing now,” he retorts, trying to keep a straight face - but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, revealing the grin he's trying to hold back. 

“Do you want it to be?” you ask. 

Unable to hide his smile any longer, he nods. 

“I’d like that.”

Slowly, he pulls his spent cock out of you, making you whine at the empty sensation as even more of his cum spills out of you. 

“Wait here,” he says, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek as he rises from the bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[starlightxsvt]

PSYCHO | j.ww (M)

synopsis ➳ a new threat has showed up, one wonwoo thought he got rid of. this time, you are entangled into the mess and it is bound to get bloody. good thing wonwoo is there to help you bury past demons that you didn't even know existed.

genre ➳ dark romance, smut, gore, halloween au.

pairing ➳ psycho!wonwoo x therapist!fem reader

word count ➳ 7.6k

warnings ➳ blood, PTSD, mentions of scars, mentions of not being able to eat, stalking, knife, choking, graphic description of murder, hiding a body, halloween costumes (Wonwoo is Ghost from COD), hand necklace, degradation, name calling, makeouts, unprotected sex, rough sex, pussy slapping, fingering, tit play.

Note: it is mandatory to read Bloodily Safe and Game on! before reading this. additionally, I heavily recommend reading the Patreon bonus scene after Game on! to get a better context of this story because this is a continuation from there and is a major plot point.

It is weird seeing your colleague who suddenly disappeared a year ago without a word, appear randomly at the clinic today. 

Joshua is definitely not how you remember him.

He used to be a soft-spoken and friendly guy but the man you met today is someone completely different; rude and snappy. Not to mention that terrifying scar on his face. The long scar running down his left cheek looks quite new and not accidental.

How did he get that?

It is all so peculiar. The way he almost kept scowling at you, the weird aura that radiated off of him and the unsettling way he seemed to notice everything about you and stare too long.

You had been working with Joshua at the clinic for about three months when he disappeared suddenly last October, sending his resignation letter through the mail. No one at the clinic knew about his whereabouts but it was assumed he went back to the States since he had American citizenship. 

Seeing him at the clinic today caught you completely off guard, especially because he felt so familiar yet unfamiliar. In a way you could not put your finger on but made you feel uneasy.

He was there to see Jeonghan, your clinic's new head, saying he needed to have an important meeting with his friend as he showed himself in. 

Who knows what they were talking about in there for so long. You saw him enter when you were on a late lunch break and Joshua was still inside when you left, removing your option to speak to him as you had planned.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt unsafe on the way home, turning your head back now and then, looking for someone who was not there, as if your gut knew something was wrong.

—

“Cherry,” Wonwoo suddenly calls you by your nickname, a solemn clarity in his tone that lets you know he means business. “Look at me.”

You sit at the dinner table, toying with the fork on your empty plate as your mind drifts off somewhere else, clouded by all sorts of thoughts.

You have been zoning out for a while now and your boyfriend’s unwavering gaze at you forces you to focus. You hesitate for a fraction of a second before meeting his eyes. 

Suddenly, you feel nervous. Wonwoo can read you like an open book so you know there is no hiding from him.

“What is bothering you?”

“What do you mean?” You feign confusion, getting up from the chair and heading to the sink where you start washing the dishes, the heavy sound of the jet of water putting a pause in your conversation.

You can feel Wonwoo’s gaze sharpen. He leaves the dining table, stepping closer to you. With his hands crossed in front of his chest, he leans against a nearby countertop and patiently watches you do your work.

You know very well he is waiting for you to finish. Still, for a reason unknown to you, you attempt to evade him. “You should prepare for bed. I will join you soon.”

Wonwoo frowns, his eyes somehow appearing darker as he leans closer. “Don’t do that.” He admonishes. “I know you well enough to know something is up from the look on your face. You have been distracted. What is going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

A soft sigh falls from your lips as you shake off the water on your hands before wiping them in a dry towel resting by the sink. Then, you face him.

 “I met Joshua today.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen. While you admit that the news is a bit surprising, you are perplexed by why your boyfriend, who barely knows him, appears so shocked.

“Joshua?” There’s a change in Wonwoo’s usual low, monotonous voice. “The guy who used to work at the clinic last year?”

“Yes.” You hum, before raising a brow. “Why are you so shocked?”

Wonwoo blinks, peering at your face for a while before subtly shaking his head. “Nothing. I just did not like the way he looked at you.”

“You say that about every guy.” You roll your eyes.

“But why have you been thinking about him?” Wonwoo snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you closer as he watches you carefully. “Did he try to hit on you?”

“What? No,” you scoff but then pause, recalling the unsettling aura he gave off. You don’t like how weirded out you have been since seeing him. “He…he had this strange, long scar on his face, you know… It looked, I don’t know…not like an accident.”

Wonwoo’s grip on your waist tightens and you look at him inquisitively to see a frown on his brows. 

Why is he so tense? What is he thinking about so hard?

“What are you pondering so seriously?” You poke his nose, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Wonwoo shakes his head, sighing. “Nothing.” He hums, the look in his eyes suddenly changing. “You look ravishing right now, you know.” He murmurs. With a foxy grin, he pulls your body tight against his, trailing teasing kisses and bites on your neck while his hands explore your back.

Heat blooms all throughout your face as you shyly shift your gaze the closer his face comes to yours. You are only wearing a T-shirt and shorts right now so you have your doubts about how ravishing you look.

With a smirk of the devil, he presses his lips to yours, soft and sweet at first as you really soak in the feeling of his large, warm hands holding your back. They roam around freely underneath your t-shirt, one hand on your upper back while the other presses lower, right over your tailbone. Goosebumps break out on your skin under the caress of his soft, sensual fingers.

“Wonwoo,” you whisper, shivering, not from the cold but from need and anticipation as every other thought about the world slips away from your mind. Right now, there is only him and you.

“Hmm?” He hums, pulling his lips just a fraction away from yours and placing you on the countertop.

“I need you,” you plead, using your hands to pull him even closer to you.

With a knowing, cocky smirk, Wonwoo removes your baggy t-shirt off your body, exposing your naked torso for his eyes to feast on. You see the desire spark in his eyes, his gaze not sparing an inch of your chest as he leans down to press kisses all over the soft, sensitive flesh. He takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking in it before gently nibbling the skin around it.

“Wonwoo,” You writhe. “Please.”

“Hmm?” He hums, busy with his task.

“Y-your fingers,” You whisper, trying to grind yourself against him.

“You want my fingers, baby?” His voice is deep as he removes his mouth from your tits and locks his eyes with you. Through the fabric of your shorts, he palms your core, making you whine and writhe more. 

“Where do you want them, little girl?” He smirks, savouring your desperation. You groan, clutching his arms in a vice-like grip with one hand while struggling to remove your shorts with the other. Your boyfriend aids you in the process, tugging it off in one smooth motion and leaving you completely bare.

“Please, Wonwoo.” You beg, all other vocabulary vanishing from your head.

He hums, eyes trained between your legs and then, surprising you, he slaps your pussy, hard, as your mouth falls open in a silent scream. “Horny little slut.” He tsks and in one smooth motion, thrusts two of his fingers inside you. You squeal, hands fisting the material of his t-shirt tightly while his long digits easily slip inside you thanks to the arousal that even coats your thighs.

“Oh fuck, yes.” You moan, eyes rolling back as you feel his fingers move inside you back and forth. With each thrust, your legs fall open wider as your breathing becomes harsher, and your body starts to feel heavy.  Paired with the movement of his fingers and the heated look he’s sending your way, you know you’re not very far from your release. You squeak, “Go-gonna cum.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “So quickly? My needy little cherry. Come then. Come on my fingers so I can put my cock in your wet sopping hole.” The utterly filthy words coming from him make you moan out loud as he brings his thumb over clit, rubbing it swiftly and sending you over the edge and face-first into your orgasm.

It shakes your body as you slump over Wonwoo, letting the ecstasy wash over you, your pussy spasming repeatedly as he keeps playing with you throughout your high. When you finally come down and your mind starts working again, Wonwoo pulls his fingers out of you, dripping in your essence and licks his digits clean, never wavering eye contact with you. The erotic sight has your core thrumming once more as your throat dries up. “Please. Fuck me, Wonwoo…” Your voice is soft and breathy and the man grins as if pleased with your begging. “Good girl.”

Pressing a quick kiss on the top of your head, he steps back, pulling your naked body with him as he heads for the bedroom. Once there, you sit on the bed and eagerly wait for him to take off his clothes and join you, your hungry eyes watching him remove his t-shirt.  Anticipation builds in your veins as you lick your dry lips, avidly waiting to see his cock as if it is your first time.

With his eyes never straying from yours, he removes his pants and boxers, a cheeky smirk playing on his lips. Like every other time, his size and girth leave your mouth dry and your core clenching around nothing. 

Your eyes never leave his cock as it bobs in the air, his tip leaking precum. Wonwoo watches you watch him with utter amusement. “Close your mouth, cherry. Otherwise, I might shove this down your throat.” He flashes you a haughty grin as he climbs on top of you and pecks your mouth.

“You can do that” You whisper, eyes trained on his cock as his large body engulfs yours, pressing you flat into the mattress. On top of you, Wonwoo grins like a cat that ate the canary, “Oh, I know you would love that, dirty girl. But I’m too impatient right now.” He grunts as his cock brushes against your belly. “Fuck.” Cursing under his breath, he lines himself up to your throbbing hole. “I’ll fuck you so hard you will not remember anything else. Especially not a guy.”

It’s a promise and you cannot wait for him to fulfill it.

His words only fuel your need and you think you will go crazy if he waits a second longer. “Hurry,” you whine, raising your hips to meet his.

“Fuck. Such a slut for my cock, aren’t you?” He tilts your chin and pulls your lips in a bruising kiss as you nod. “P-please, Wonwoo, give to me.”

Groaning softly, he taps your clit with his hard shaft, eyes trained on your swollen, dripping hole. “It might hurt.”

“And I will love it.”

His eyes darken as he suddenly lands a slap on your clit. “Such a whore. I love it.” You squeal from the impact, more wetness dripping out of you and just as you are recovering from the sting of his spank he thrusts inside you, all the way in one smooth motion. Your gasp morphs into a loud cry, your nails scratching Wonwoo’s back as you cling to him.

No matter how many times you have been with Wonwoo, you still struggle to adjust to his size, not to mention when he fucks you raw and animalistic like he’s doing right now. 

He pants harshly on top of you, sweat shining on his forehead as he wastes no time thrusting his full length in and out of you. Your pussy is stretched to its limits and every time he brutally thrusts in, his cock hits the deepest, most sensitive part inside you, making you mindlessly grind on his cock, soft, breathy whines leaving your lips as your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Stop doing that or I’m gonna come,” Wonwoo warns but you start moving your hips faster, matching his thrusts. “Little slut,” he groans, guttural and as if in pain, heated eyes watching you. “You are extra horny today.” He murmurs, smashing his lips to yours. The kiss is all teeth and tongue as you breathe Wonwoo in like he is your oxygen. When your lips part a flimsy string of saliva hangs, connecting the two of you and Wonwoo watches you, his gaze feral as he continues to fuck you mercilessly.

“Are you ready to come for me?” He asks quietly, his hand creeping lower and lower down your body to play with your swollen clit. He rubs the sensitive bundle of flesh, making your entire body shudder as you feel your orgasm coming. As soon as he flicks your clit with his finger, your release comes crashing down on you and you feel it in every one of your nerves.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench around his throbbing length. You’re not surprised when he doesn’t stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo mutters under his breath. “I can’t get enough of you, my little slut.” His fingers that were previously digging into your hipbone now make a home on your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. Your breath catches in your throat, your hands coming to rest on Wonwoo’s wrists as he continues to apply a steady pressure that makes your core throb. Just as you feel your oxygen supply being cut off quite severely, your mind goes into a trance-like hazy state and your orgasm is triggered, multiplying it by hundreds. 

Seeing the godlike man on top of you, his dark, piercing eyes trained on you so intensely as if he would devour you whole makes you go off like a rocket, bliss seeping into every inch of your bones. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you’re floating on a cloud, high above reality. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder before you vaguely register the emptiness as he slips out of you. Faintly, you feel him shuffling on the bed, murmuring something in your ears as he kisses your forehead and cleans you up.

You drift off peacefully, safe and snug against Wonwoo’s warmth.

—

31st OCT

You stepped out of the clinic a little earlier today, like everyone else, since it’s Halloween night. As you walk by, you observe the festive mood on the streets, with all sorts of creepy and gothic decorations littering every corner as children scurry around dressed in costumes.

You can’t wait to get home and put on yours.

Your home is just a ten-minute walk away, and like every other day, you stroll down the sidewalk, enjoying the beautiful dusk. Yet today feels different for some reason. 

As soon as you stepped out of the clinic, an uneasy sensation prickled in your gut, sending subtle alarm bells blaring in your head. You try to dismiss it, telling yourself that it is the exhaustion from the day that is making you overthink. But with each step, your unease deepens, and as you glance over your shoulder, a chill runs down your spine.

As you expected, a man in a black outfit flashes by the moment you spot him, disappearing into the alley right beside where he stood.

Terrified, you continue walking, your pace faster than before. For some reason, your gut says it is Joshua. It is weird that his name was the one to immediately pop into your head. You suddenly remember his words the day he came back to the clinic. “You have been living well, no?” A deeper implication under the guise of an innocent question.

It may just be your mind making up scenarios after the issue with Jacob but you are not taking any chances because obviously, someone was following you.

As you march down the sidewalk, you find a bus a few meters ahead of you and without thinking, you rush towards it, stepping in right before it is about to leave.

You catch your breath, panting harshly as you grip the handrail and look out the window, searching for the man in black. Just when you accept that he is gone for good, you spot a man stepping out of an alleyway, fully dressed in black, his face covered with a black surgical mask and staring at you. You get only a glimpse of him as the bus takes a turn, going in a direction opposite to your home.

You don’t care. 

You will get off at the next stop and take a cab home.

Truly an experience befitting the Halloween night.

—

You return home much later than usual, depleted mentally and physically. All your excitement and eagerness for the upcoming Halloween party in the evening is now gone with the chilly breeze of the night.

“You are late,” Wonwoo states, walking towards you as you toe off your shoes before stepping into the living room area. From the worn-out expression on your face, he can immediately sense something is wrong as he asks, “What is going on, cherry?”

You don’t reply, dashing into his arms straight.

In the back of your mind, you register that he is dressed in his Halloween costume but your wired brain fails to process his look properly. He is dressed as Ghost from Call of Duty, a look you anticipated heavily but now, you are too fraught to care. Instead, you bury yourself in his arms, breathing in and out deeply as he holds you, his hands patting your back and sides in search of any injury.

“What is wrong?” He asks again, the desperation rising in his tone. Breaking the hug, he holds your face and carefully observes it, his gaze jumping all around your visage. “Fuck, are you okay? Say something!”

“Someone tried to follow me home.” You whisper.

“What!” A sharp breath falls from his lips, his grip on you tightening as his eyes double in size. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you call me?”

“My battery died.” With a heavy sigh, you slump down on the sofa, Wonwoo following you closely as you start narrating everything to him. With each word you utter, his complexion pales and his expression darkens visibly. At the same time, you see the anger surge within him, evident from the way he scowls at the floor, his hands clenched in fists.

“Fuck.” He hisses.

“I just don’t understand why he has been so weird towards me. What did I do to him? Why is he after me?” You cry, dragging a hand through your hair. “Please, tell me I’m just overthinking. It really cannot be Joshua, right?”

Your boyfriend does not affirm you.

“I should have taken care of him last year,” Wonwoo mutters instead, almost as if he’s talking to himself but you hear it loud and clear and the hairs on your neck stand up straight, your brain suddenly working a mile a minute as the equation starts to add up.

“What do you mean?” You whisper, horrified by the reality that is about to dawn on you.

“You should know how I got this scar.” Joshua’s words from that day replay in your mind, how he uttered them when he caught you staring at the mark. The words that once made you clueless suddenly make perfect sense. 

“Wonwoo, look at me,” you croak with pleading eyes, chasing his gaze which he hides. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“It was you! You are the one who fucked up his face!”

For the first time in your life, you see Wonwoo look uncomfortable. He abruptly stands up and averts his gaze, avoiding your eyes as if it were a game while continuously shifting on his feet. He looks…guilty and worried.

“God, for fucks sake!” You burst out, unable to hold yourself together any longer. “Are you insane? Why would you do that?”

“I think you know the answer to that.” He finally meets your eyes but you do not see the faintest hint of remorse in him.

“No, I don’t!” You snap, irritated.

“He is a bad man, cherry,” Wonwoo replies, deadpan as he approaches you. “He was a fucking pervert. He did disgusting things behind your back.”

No wonder Joshua thinks you're in on this too. He probably believes that you made Wonwoo do that to him, hence the vendetta.

“Then you should have handed him over to the police!” You snap, rubbing your palm over your face.

“You know I don’t work like that.” “Clearly!” You roll your eyes, pacing around the room. “You instead thought it would be better to carve his face! As if that makes any sense!” You scoff.

Wonwoo’s demeanour shifts as a frown settles on his brows, his lips thinning. “I don’t like your attitude. He was a sneaky pervert and I was trying to protect you from him. I did not share it with you because I did not want to add to your traumas.”

You know he meant well. You understand he was looking out for you, in his own deranged way but right now, you cannot think with compassion. Right now, you do not care what perverted thing Joshua was doing behind your back because right now, he is out there trying to hunt you down.

“Well then, you should have done a better job of protecting me!” You spit, using air quotations for the last two words. “Now I have a deranged stalker up my ass who only god knows what will do to me. And don’t talk about my attitude.” You glare at him.

The subdued lighting in your living room creates a striking shadow across his face, highlighting his sharp, bony features in an almost unfair way. Combined with his combat attire and his dishevelled hair, it’s astonishing how captivating he appears, nearly stealing your attention from the argument.

God, this is so unfair. You hate him. You hate this man so much.

With your hands on your hips, you start pacing around. “You are the one who caused this mess, Wonwoo, so don’t talk about my attitude. Joshua is out to get us, do you understand? What if he goes to the police? Do you understand how badly this could end, you impulsive psycho?”

You should not have said that.

Wonwoo’s eyes, as always, remain dark and empty but you clearly see his jaw harden as he grits his teeth. Sending a scalding look your way— one you have never encountered before, he throws the Ghost mask on the floor. 

“Fuck this.”

Then, he is out the door.

The two words are enough to make you realise that you have crossed a big line. You want to go after him but it is too late and you are still frozen at your place, the blood flowing through your veins still hot with anger and frustration.

Well, there goes your Halloween plans.

It is almost ironic how crazy people have always been after you. You are living with one and you have to admit over the years you have also become a lot like him. Still, what pains you is that he kept it from you. You would not have been mad if he had come to you and confessed. After all, given your shared history, you were supposed to be partners in crime, literally.

With diminished spirits and exhaustion from the day taking over your body, you trudge through the empty apartment, changing into your pajamas. The witch costume you had intended to wear for the evening seems to taunt you from the closet as you change, and with a heavy heart, you tuck the box away.

You should not have said those things to Wonwoo.

You never had a fight this big with him. Sure, there were small quarrels here and there but they were resolved within a few hours. This is the first time in your almost two years of relationship that he stormed out of the house.

How can you make up to him?

The clock on the wall reads seven in the evening and you know for a fact Wonwoo won’t be home until it’s very late. 

He won’t stay outside all night, will he? Since this is the first time he has rushed out of the house, you don’t know what to do or expect.

Feeling overwhelmed and useless, you decide to busy yourself by making dinner. You get started on cooking his favourite meal, hoping it will lessen his anger once he returns.

With the food cooking on the stove, you sit on the living room floor, slicing apples for yourself and scrolling through your phone. Wonwoo isn't particularly a fan of this fruit, but when you cut it into slices shaped like little bunnies, he relishes them with the joy of a child.

So, you do that. 

You slice through the apples, preparing them in the shape of bunnies and munching on a few yourself while in the back of your mind, praying that he returns quickly. 

You cannot wait to apologize to him.

Suddenly, you hear the doorbell.

Wonwoo cannot be back so early, right?

Still, you rush to the door, hopeful and delighted that your prayers have been answered. Through the peephole, you see the person standing outside and realise quickly it is not Wonwoo but a man wearing a baseball cap.

“Who is it?” You are not expecting any guests.

“Delivery for Jeon Wonwoo!” The man announces from the other side.

Ah, right. Wonwoo did order a new headset.

You open the door, your eyes searching for a package in the man’s hand only to realise, there is none.

The man is dressed in all black, making it hard to see his face, especially because of the baseball cap and mask on his face. Suddenly, a heavy sense of dread fills your system as you realize something is profoundly wrong, flashbacks of the earlier events in the day vividly going through your mind.  

Fuck. Fuck.

You should not have opened the door.

The man seems suspicious, his vibes very ominous and just as you are about to close the door, he looks up, locking his eyes with yours. A small, sharp breath falls from your lips as you immediately realize who it is.

Joshua.

This is your worst nightmare coming true. Fuck, how did he even get your address? You thought you had successfully got him off your tail.

You are so fucked. There could be only one reason why he is here.

Revenge.

The man pulls down his mask and grins diabolically. “Hey there, ___.”

“Jo-Joshua,” you give him a nervous smile while trying to wrack through your brain to find a way out of this, fidgeting with your phone behind your back.

Maybe talking to him would work? You’re a therapist after all.

He places his palm flat on the door with a loud thud, forcing it to open wider as he steps into your home.

Fuck, fuck.

You reflexively step back, walking backwards into your living room while unlocking your phone behind your back with your thumbprint.

“I came to have a chat with you,” the man grins, kicking the front door closed behind him. “You know…just you and me since your boyfriend is out.”

Beads of perspiration gather on your forehead as you keep backing away in small steps. The look in Joshua’s eyes is one of paranoia and you know he is beyond reason right now. This was a very calculated move and he has you right where he wanted. 

Trapped in your own home.

Tossing his cap and mask away on the floor, Joshua combs his fingers through his hair before showing his scarred cheek to you. “Let me ask you a question, therapist ___. Do you know who did this?”

Oh fuck. 

You fiddle with your phone behind your back, attempting to call Wonwoo through speed dial. The glass on the showcase to your right aids you in the process as you can see a fairly clear image of your phone screen on the reflection from your peripheral vision.

“N-no, Joshua. But it looks painful. Maybe we can talk about it—”

“Lies!” The man seethes, his eyes ablaze before calmly whispering. “I know you are lying. I can see it in your eyes. You know your dear boyfriend did it.”

Whatever remaining strength in your leg disappears at his words as you stumble over nothing and fall on the ground, your heart thudding so loudly it is deafening to your ears. Your phone slips away from your hand, lying face up on the ground as your body freezes from the panic overriding your system.

This is like the situation with Jacob all over again but much more terrifying. 

God, when does this end?

The moment the call connects and you hear Wonwoo’s voice float through ever so faintly, Joshua takes notice of it, immediately lurching for the device. “Fucking cunt!” He yells, smashing your phone down on the ground in one swift blow as the screen cracks under the force.

You cower, pressing your back to the coffee table as you raise your arms to cover yourself while trying to appear as small as possible. “Please, please don’t hurt me.” 

The man chuckles, positioning himself over your torso as he grabs you by the collars of your nightshirt, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

“Oh darling,” He grins, his teeth on display, and paired with the deranged look in his eyes it is so terrifying that your hands tremble when you try to free yourself. 

“I will just draw a pretty scar on your cheek like he did to mine.” He whispers, leaning close to you. From his jeans pocket, he pulls out a switchblade, the tip razor sharp and glinting. “And then, I will stab a nice little hole in your stomach, like he did to mine. Seems fair, no? I promise it won’t hurt.”

“No- please—” you struggle harder but his hand moves to grip your throat, cutting your airflow as you writhe underneath him, trying to free yourself while also fighting to overcome the heavy weight of his body on top of you. 

You need a weapon.

Suddenly, the fog in your brain clears up as you remember what you need is right behind you.

“Your boyfriend is a loose nut after all,” Joshua smiles, tracing the tip of the blade over your forehead and dragging it down to your cheek. “I have a feeling that if I do this to him, he won’t hurt but if I carve you up,” he laughs, shaking his head. “He will burn. That’s the best revenge I can get, you know.” 

Holding your breath, you observe as his pupils dilate while his grip on the butt of the knife tightens. Half a second before the tip of the blade nicks your skin, your right hand reaches back on the coffee table to pick up the knife lying there.

You find it in one go and the very next moment, you lodge it in Joshua’s throat.

The knife pierces through the man’s skin, breaking through his artery as blood sprays out immediately while you hold it against the side of his throat, trying to push it in deeper. Joshua groans, the sound choked as he grips the knife, trying to pull it out but you use all your strength to shove it even deeper. 

He falls back, his gaze wide and frantic as he sputters and chokes, holding on to the knife in an attempt to pull it out while blood seeps through his fingers.

However, all too soon the light in his eyes fades and he falls quiet as his body slumps down on the floor, the room enveloped in a thick blanket of silence, disrupted only by your harsh pants as you inhale lungfuls of air, managing to get yourself to a proper sitting position.

Suddenly, you realise there is blood everywhere.

On your hands, your face, your shirt, the carpet and the floor.

Your home is bathed in blood, an intimate space soiled with the evidence of your crime. Your favourite cream-coloured rug is now painted crimson, just like your pajamas and fingers.

Shaking like a leaf, you look at your right hand which is coated red, the blood slowly dripping down your wrist. It envelops your fingers, thick and heavy, the metallic smell of the liquid wafting in the air suddenly too strong for you to bear.

Despite not wanting to cast your eyes on the body of the lifeless man lying in front of you, your eyes shift to it and the unsettlingly blank look in the corpse’s eyes locks you in a trance as you sit on the floor, shuddering.

The events of the last few minutes start replaying in your head and with the passing of each second, the reality and the gravity of your actions begin to sink in.

You just killed a man. 

In self-defence but you did just kill Joshua.

You feel like throwing up.

A faint beeping sound alerts you before you hear the front door open. A second later, Wonwoo dashes in only to stop a few steps into the room as he takes in the scene. 

Your terrified eyes meet his wide, panicked ones as his eyes move from your face to your bloodied hands and then to the knife stuck in Joshua’s throat. Not wasting another second, Wonwoo rushes to you, kneeling on the floor and wrapping your body with his, his palms patting all over your body as he murmurs between harsh pants, “Are you hurt anywhere?”

You shake your head no, biting down on your wobbling lower lip hard to prevent yourself from bursting into tears while remaining careful not to touch him with your blood-soaked hand.

Wonwoo loosens his hold on you to observe your right hand as he grips your wrist and studies the smear of blood all over your hand.

What is he thinking? Is he mad? Will he abandon you now? The thought has you struggling to breathe. “Wo—wonwoo, I-I swear I didn’t m-mean to… he just—” You try to explain in between tears and choked breaths but Wonwoo shushes you with a hard kiss.

“Stop.” His dark eyes bore into yours, his fingers moving from your wrist to link with your bloodied hand as you watch with fascination how he holds it in a strong, unrelenting grip. You are suddenly reminded of the time you held his bloody hands after he killed Jacob. 

And suddenly it is easier to breathe.

With him near you, holding you and reassuring you, you suddenly feel just a bit better.

“You did well, little cherry. You did so good,” Wonwoo whispers, snaking an arm around your waist to hold you tightly against his large, warm body, your hands still linked. “I should not have left you alone. I should have taken care of this fucker long ago. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”

His words are your undoing as you bury yourself deeper into his embrace, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as your entire body shudders, everything washing over you once again— the stalking, the fight, the attack. 

“Everything is going to be okay,” the firmness in his tone is oddly reassuring. “Look at me,” he commands and gently holding your chin, he forces you to meet his gaze. 

“You did not do this, okay? You were not here, you know nothing. I will take care of everything, do you understand me?”

Your heart beats loudly in your ears as you give him a shaky nod.

“Words, little girl.” His eyes darken and his grip on your chin tightens.

“I u-understand.” You whisper between sniffles, unconsciously turning your head to look at the lifeless body once again but Wonwoo interrupts, cupping your head and forcing your gaze back on him. 

The blood from his fingers transfers to your clean cheek when he wipes your tears. 

“Now listen to me, cherry.” His tone is calm but authoritative. “You are going to go to the bathroom and clean yourself up. Then, I will give you an address and you are going to go there and have a good night’s rest. In the morning, when you wake up, all of this will feel like a very bad dream.”

What? Panic surges through you.

“But Wonwoo—”

“Hush. You will do as I say and I will take care of the rest. I promise you, little cherry, everything will be okay.” He pauses as a smirk spreads on his lips. “After all, you know very well that this isn’t my first rodeo.” 

The way he says those words makes you believe that everything will truly be okay. You force yourself to nod, your eyes stinging with fresh tears as you softly speak. “I love you, Wonwoo.”

The man remains silent for a breath, his eyes piercing into the deepest parts of your soul while one of his hands gently caresses your neck and jawline, tracing the lines of the blood stain. Then, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours as he pokes his tongue into your mouth and kisses you languidly, eliciting soft, whiny moans from you.

“Oh, cherry,” he smirks, trailing little kisses all over your lips and chin. “I am holding back the urge to fuck you right here in his blood, you know.”

His words make knots form in the pit of your stomach, your heart racing at the thought of Wonwoo taking you right here, right now. 

“And I know you love the idea, my depraved little slut.” His grin grows bigger. “But we should not waste time. Now go do as you are told.”

You gaze at him, still unsure as he helps you get on your feet. Pushing you toward the direction of the bathroom, Wonwoo orders. “Do as you are told, cherry. I mean it. You would not want to see the real psycho.”

—

The dreadful night passes by as you toss and turn restlessly in the sheets, lying in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar cottage in the middle of the woods.

With the rise of the sun in the eastern sky, you get some shut eye after your mind is finally overtaken by exhaustion. When you wake up, the morning light is flooding into your room in the cabin. Your groggy eyes shift to the clock on the wall that reads 10 am.

For a moment, your mind remains blank as you try to figure out where you are. And then, the events from last night flood in and you bolt up, kicking the sheets away.

Oh fuck! Wonwoo!

You leap out of bed, rushing to the dressing table where the burner phone lies, fully charged. Just as you are about to dial Wonwoo’s number, you hear a strange string of sounds coming from outside your door.

Did someone break in? With your heart in your throat, you open the door and carefully pad out to the hallway. The second floor is quiet, empty and tranquil as the sun pours in through the window, illuminating the wooden floors. After carefully listening to the sounds for a couple of seconds you assume it is the sound of someone using the chopping board and the juicer machine. 

More confused than scared, you climb down the stairs, eyes eagerly searching for the person behind the noise.

As you place your feet on the floor after descending the flight of stairs, your eyes land on the man in the kitchen, his back facing you while he cooks as an array of ingredients and utensils lay on the counter. 

From the broad expanse of his back and shoulders, you immediately know who it is.

“Wonwoo!” Your voice, almost choked, overpowers the sizzling noise on the stove.

The man whips his head back in surprise before breaking into a smile that has your heart soaring.

Oh, thank god.

Without another word, you dash to him, leaping into his arms as you press your face against his hard chest, your fingers holding onto a tight grip around his waist like he will disappear any second.

There is no exchange of words as he hugs you back, even tighter, his fingers stroking your hair in a repeated soothing pattern. You inhale and exhale deeply, savouring the breaths as you let his scent and embrace comfort you.

“Did you sleep okay?” He asks, carding his fingers through your locks.

It is almost as if last night did not happen. It is almost as if everything is okay.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes tight so that the threatening tears do not escape as you address the elephant in the room. “I was awake till almost dawn. Whenever I closed my eyes,” a shudder wracks through you, “I saw his face, blank and dead, staring back at me with so much hatred.”

“Hey,” your boyfriend loosens his hold on you, tilting his head back slightly to take a look at your face. Cupping your jaw, he assures, “It is all okay, I promise. He is gone for good.”

Your lower lip wobbles, “But— but what if someone looks for him? The CCTV cameras—”

“Hush, little cherry,” he presses his index fingers to your lips. “You do not need to worry about it in your pretty little head. I took care of everything.” His calm composure and the way he speaks each word start to break the bonds of worry in your mind. 

Maybe everything will be okay.

“What about you?” You ask, swallowing a lump in your throat. You let your eyes wander all over him, searching for a sign of injury. “Are you okay? Will you be okay? They can’t track you down right?” The possibility of losing Wonwoo scares you more than losing yourself.

“Oh, sweet cherry.” He smiles, relaxed and cocky. “I will be just fine. We both will be, I promise. Just trust me. You need to forget everything and just trust me.”

You nod, once again wrapping your arms around him. Resting your head on his chest, you listen to his heartbeat and repeat his reassurance in your mind.

It is not that you are not curious about what your boyfriend did to cover everything up. But more than your curiosity, you feel like it will be better for you if you know less. Your mind and sanity will spiral if you do. So for now, you will let it go. You will trust him and let it go. Maybe someday down the line, after years have passed and you are both safe and sound, you will ask him about it. Maybe.

But not now.

“Let’s have breakfast. I’m sure you are famished.” Wonwoo softly offers, guiding you towards the dining table and helping you sit down comfortably. The arrangement is quite grand for breakfast— almost brunch, an array of dishes placed on the table with mouth-watering aromas.

You thought you would not be able to eat a bite— especially since drinking plain water proved to be a hard job for you after last night but you eagerly dig in, savouring the delicious meal, the flavours bursting on your tongue, almost healing your broken soul.

You never knew egg rolls could be so delicious.

Wonwoo, sitting in front of you, watches you fondly, every now and then pushing the dishes closer to you. For a long time, silence prevails as you gobble down the food, the only sound prevailing is the clinking of your cutlery.

When you are almost finished with the meal and sipping on the orange juice that Wonwoo freshly squeezed, your boyfriend shifts on his chair as he pulls something out of his pocket.

His arm extends over the table as he places a box in front of you, small and made out of plush velvet. Frowning, you take a peek at his face to find him impassively looking at you, waiting for you to open it.

It looks like a jewellery box but if you remember correctly, today is not a special occasion. For a split second, as you hold the box in your hand, you panic, half expecting Joshua’s finger or something. Knowing Wonwoo, it would not be surprising because he would consider it romantic.

A gasp falls from your lips when you open the box.

It is a ring.

Right away you can tell it is expensive, an oval diamond sitting on a golden band, dainty but absolutely beautiful. You know this is too fancy to be a couple’s ring, not to mention the fact that you already have one.

So this could mean one thing and one thing only.

“Marry me.” He states, almost as if he’s commanding you.

You look at Wonwoo, his sharp eyes piercing into you and from the way you can see his jaw clenching, he almost looks…nervous.

Beads of tears gather in your eyes as you look back at the jewel, your heart beating deafeningly loud in your ears.

You committed murder with this man. The intensity of your bond is so raw and brutal that nothing will ever hold a candle to your relationship with him.

So, there can only be one correct answer.

Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you push the box towards him. Wonwoo’s eyes widen, regarding you with alarm.

You hold out your hand and smile. “Put it on me.”

Click here for a bonus scene taking place a few years after the events of this story!

A/N: Okay, so this is officially the end of our journey with psycho Wonwoo. I hope it was enjoyable for y'all because I poured my blood, sweat and tears into this. So please like, reblog and leave a comment! I would love to here your thoughts so my ask is always open.

Also, I would like to take a moment to announce that I will not be able to update frequently for the next two months due to my extremely hectic schedule so bear with me. I will try to be as regular as possible with the sibilance series so if I can manage time, it should be out in the second week of November. For now, toodles and happy Halloween to those who celebrate! May you find your own psycho Wonwoo ;)

[livelaughlovesubs]

~ 03.10 - Choso ~

Dom!reader x sub!Choso - reader is gender neutral

Warning: soft dom, established relationship, fingering, toys, belly bulge, marking, biting, praise kink, cumming untouched, mind break, sub-space, dacryphilia, teasing, dirty talk

~ Word count: 5k ~

Nini!rant: why does all my fics til now have cumming untouched. I’m seeing a fucking pattern. Do I not like touching dicks or what???

Kinktober list 2024

You were uncertain when or how it happened, but it has become a part of your normal routine now. One day, that guy suddenly popped up out of nowhere, captivating your heart and soul as if you were some easy target. At first, you were skeptical about this newfound relationship of yours, but now you can’t even imagine a single day without him. It was almost scary how quick you got used to his presence.

Most of the time you two would see each other on the weekends, though it was always different. Apparently, he had horribly irregular working hours, which led to very spontaneous meetings as well as cancellations. You didn’t know much about his job, because frankly, you didn’t care. He must have his reasons for not wanting to tell you.

Today was one of those rare days where you got to meet your boyfriend, which means you’ll have to cherish every moment and make it special. Maybe going out to a fancy restaurant, or staying at home and watching a movie together? Though wouldn't that be boring? Since you two have tried both of it already.

On the outside your relationship seems very innocent and adorable, the real highlight of each date was what would happen afterward. For that, you already had some plans. Honestly it was basically impossible to run out of ideas since there are so many things you want to try with him. Is this what they call love, or are you just a huge pervert? But the last thing you’d want is for your relationship to become a purely intimate one, and you knew he wouldn’t like that either.

Maybe cooking together, it could be fun, but having a full belly would get in the way of your plans for later. What about playing board games then? Time passes so quickly when one is busy, before you knew it your doorbell already rang. Without wasting another second, you hurried to the door and opened it, hoping that it was the person you wished to see.

Choso stood in front of your house with his usual tired attitude, holding a small bag full of your favorite snacks. “You are here.” You said while smiling widely, “come in.” He took off his shoes and put the bag on a nearby table, then explained, “I brought something for you.” As soon as he got back to his feet, he handed that bag to you, what a thoughtful lover he was.

You already noticed what was inside earlier, which is why you wrapped your arms around his waist instead of taking his present, uttering a single word, “Thanks.” Why were you hugging him so suddenly, was what he thought, you really were easy to please. After a moment’s hesitation, he returned the embrace. Even after all this time, he was still so awkward.

The two of you were really happy with each other, you adored him with all your heart. He was so thoughtful and adorable, all you wanted was to squish him or keep him in your pockets. Every time you spoke about him, you’d be singing praises with each sentence. It was afternoon when he arrived, so you two still had enough time to do whatever you wished. You initially wanted to propose the idea of playing games, but he looked very sleepy already, which is why you suggested cuddling while watching a show instead.

At first, you two started out sitting next to each other, on your bed, staring at the monitor. Ten minutes later, you inched closer to him. Soon his head was resting on your shoulder, and your hand wrapped around his back. After about half an hour, his entire upper body was on top of yours. He was still sitting next to you, in other words he was basically laying on top of you.

The positions got more intimate with time until at one point he actually sat in your lap. Your hands wrapped around his torso tightly while he leaned back against your chest. This continued for quite some time, both of you were enjoying the warmth and company of one another. How you adored him, it was unreal how much you missed his presence. Before meeting him you were doing just fine all by yourself, now every single thought of yours was preoccupied with him.

Eventually, the series ended, and the sun was setting already. The sky was painted in many beautiful colors, fading from a dreamy yellow into an elegant dark violet. It looked picture-perfect, like the most treasured painting of a renowned artist. A single look was enough to take your breath away.

Choso followed your gaze, staring outside the window to see what got you so excited. Even he couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate nature's beauty, before choosing to stare at you. To him, your gentle expression as you gazed into the horizon was more mesmerising than anything else in the world. Since for him, there was no one more beautiful than you.

Another minute passed, and you returned to your senses, snapping back to reality. You noticed how his gaze lingered on you the entire time, instead of admiring the scenery. This almost made you feel awkward, so you laughed. Chuckling slightly as he looking at you in bewilderment. “Don’t you know how adorable you are, Choso?” You snickered, smiling as you thanked god for gifting you such a man. He furrowed his brows, what did he do now to make you laugh at him like that.

Then the boy looked at you over his shoulder, his messy buns bounced and almost hit you in the face. “What now?” Choso asked, deciding to ignore your previous comment. “I’m not sure, or should we move on to the second part of the date now?” You suggested, sound in way too innocent for what you were implying.

For a split second, his eyes widened, and you could swear his cheeks got tainted in a rosy red. “We can do that.” He answered, now averting his gaze. Geez, why so embarrassed, was what you wanted to ask. It’s not like this is your first time after all. Nonetheless, you just embraced him tighter as you teased, “you don’t have any plans for tomorrow, right? Cuz I’m sure you won’t be able to attend it after tonight.”

He frowned, almost scoffing at your words, though he couldn’t hide the faint blush tainting his pale cheeks. Your intentions were as clear as day, do you have no shame? The boy knew he didn’t need to pretend like he didn’t understand. All he could do at that moment was blush and stay silent. What could he have done anyway? Flirting back wasn’t like him, not like he knew how to do that anyway.

“Let me go, I have to wash up first.” Choso then said, ultimately agreeing to your wishes, already throwing a hand over his mouth. He didn’t want to sound too excited, trying to act calm after hearing your playful remarks. You blinked a few times before coming up with a flirty remark again, “then, can I join you?” He answered without thinking about it, “no.” There was no hesitation in his voice as he denied your attempts.

Of course, he knew you had seen and touched every inch of his body already, but if you joined him under the shower he’ll probably end up dirtier than before. Since he seemed so against it, you didn’t pressure him any further, loosening your grip around his body and letting him get up. “Take your time then, I’ll do the rest.” While he was in the bathroom, you tidied up your bed chamber, getting rid of the many empty bowls on the ground, and putting the leftover snacks away. It didn’t take too long until you finished the chores. Then you started taking out some tools you’ll need for later.

A pair of gloves, lube, and a special something. Hopefully, he’ll enjoy your little present, you put a lot of thought into it. Putting these helpers aside for now, you threw yourself onto your bed, waiting until he got out of the shower. As you waited, you thought about what you’d do later, especially about the pretty faces your lovely boyfriend might pull. Thinking about him alone was enough to make you exited, almost to the point of getting impatient with waiting.

A few moments later, you heard the expected click of the doorknob. Choso stepped out of the bathroom shortly after, he was wearing a big sweater paired with some comfy pants, and his hair was still slightly damp. It’s been a while since you saw him with his hair down. How to describe it, he was literally the god of beauty’s incarnation.

He was so gorgeous you could cry. You couldn’t help but stare at him in awe, holding back the urge to jump him and compliment him. All you did was smile sweetly as you patted the seat next to you on the bed, inviting him to come closer. Once he sat down, you tapped his shoulder gently, before you pushed him a little.

Choso stared at you with a slightly confused look, did you want him to lay down or? Instead of elaborating, you chuckled again, causing him to feel embarrassed. Weirdly enough, you suddenly sneaked up behind his back, taking a seat there, out of his view. “What are you planning, y/n?” He asked, genuinely curious. This was almost the same position like before, when you two watched the series together.

“You’ll see, but can you do me a favor and spread your legs? Also, get rid of those pants alright?” You asked him so casually, it almost sounded natural, almost innocent. The male gulped, hesitating a bit before pulling his pants down, revealing his bare thighs. He didn’t wear any underwear after getting out of the shower, obviously because he knew it’d be unnecessary, atta boy.

You waited for him patiently, not wanting to rush him or push him out of his comfort zone. After a while he leaned back against you again, back pressed against your body to the point you both could hear the others heartbeat. His hands grabbed his shin as he spread them apart. “There… satisfied?” He questioned you with a slight tremble in his voice, which you thought was adorable. God damn it, you find everything he does cute, what to do? If he told you to steal the moon for him, you would have done so without hesitation.

“Yes, very much so.” You replied while you put on a latex glove, afterwards squeezing some lube onto your fingers. “I’ll begin now, is that alright?” The man nodded despite being a little on edge about it, he was always a tad nervous when you two would do the deed. First, you only drew circles around his rim, coating his intimate parts with lube. Then you slowly pushed your index finger inside, wriggling it around. It didn’t take long until you drew out an emotion from the boy. He trembled a bit at the feeling of each of your knuckles entering him.

A second digit followed soon after. “Hahhh…” Choso exhaled deeply, feeling the familiar stretch he always loved but would never admit to you. “Is this pace alright my love?” You asked him, stopping your tracks so that he could catch a break. Every time you two slept together this would happen, whenever he looked into your eyes you bore such a deep desire for him. Akin to that of a beast, as if you wanted to eat him alive.

Yet you never acted upon those impulses, always catering to his needs and preferences. How very considerate of you, he wanted you to enjoy yourself to the fullest as well. Even if you were a little rougher on him he wouldn’t complain, he wanted to tell you that for a long time now, yet he hasn’t mustered the courage to do that.

“Hnng… yea, it’s alright.” He told you, his gaze was now glued to your hand that was working wonders on his body. Watching you move your fingers in and out of him felt even more perverse than getting fingered, especially due to the squelching sounds caused by the lube. At the same time, his dick was standing up proudly, all hard from a little fingering. This won’t do, his already tattered pride won’t allow this humiliation.

Quickly, Choso voiced out his thoughts, trying to hurry things up, “I-i think this is enough, can we move on to the next part, y/n?” His pupils shook, and a faint blush covered his cheeks. A shiver ran down your spine, your darling was so adorable that you barely kept yourself in check. “Are you sure about it?” You kept asking for his consent, resting your chin on his shoulder as you glanced at his frame.

It was hidden behind a sweater, though you were still able to make out the outlines of his muscles. Once again, he nodded, allowing you to do whatever you wanted to his body. “Alright… to be honest I prepared something for you, I hope you don’t mind.” What? Today wasn’t a special day, so why did you buy him a gift? This caught his attention now, eyes lightening up a little as he pondered what that surprise might be. What did you get him?

Next thing he knew something cold and hard was pressing against his entrance, causing him to yelp slightly. “Ngh— Is it…?” Based on the feeling alone, as well as texture… Hold up, was it a sex toy? He looked down, only to be met with a huge dildo poking against him. The size was enormous, way bigger than him, he knew because you rubbed the two dicks together. It was at least two inches longer than him.

“Wa-what.. no way, are- are you suggesting that that… thing…?” He couldn’t find the right words, or rather, he couldn’t bring himself to voice them out. “Yep, this is going inside you.” You smirked at him so innocently that he almost believed this was a fever dream. Though if he wasn’t mistaken, you had a hint of mischief underneath your tone as well. “Ngh.. wait- isn’t this too… errr, big?” The boy raised his concerns while you were already preoccupied with sticking the tip inside him, watching as his rim tried its best to accommodate the toy.

How it stretched and gaped around it, you had to bite back a perverted smile. “It’s only one size bigger than what you normally take, so I think it will be alright?” That was your response to his worry, and he looked like he was in disbelief now. Are you kidding him, what do you mean one size bigger, it doesn’t look like only one size! “Do you not want to try?” You questioned him, this time you sounded a little sad as if you were really looking forward to this.

But you didn’t tell him of course, you didn’t want to influence his opinion. “I—“ he had to think about it because he was actually a little terrified at the idea of something this big going inside him, then he remembered your disappointed tone. After some hesitation, he gulped, before answering, “…only if- if you do it slowly.” Your eyes immediately sparkled, regaining their previous glimmer. “I’ll be careful with you.” You promised him as you pushed the dildo further inside him.

“Mhmm..! Ha-hhNgn…” To his surprise, or as expected, the more the silicon dick entered him, the louder did his moans become. Actually, this felt good, this felt really nice. Heck, who was he kidding, he could barely bite back his groans of pleasure. His face twisted into one a pleasure ridden one, the blush across his features only continued to grow. Those pretty hands were clutching his own legs desperately, almost to the point of leaving bruises.

You stopped him right before that could happen, cooing into his ear and clasping your hand over his, “don’t hurt yourself, baby.” Sweat was forming on his forehead and a deep blush covered his cheeks now. Why was your voice so hot..? His black eyes were all teary and half-lidded, some strains of hair were stuck to his skin. Even if all this was very pleasurable, the toy was still so thick, he swore he never got stretched to this extent.

Once again Choso had to muffle a whimper threatening to spill, he could feel his spongy walls clenching around the dildo. “Y/n, are we do-done yet?” He asked, thighs already shaking as if his body got a mind on its own. Just how long was this thing, it kept going deeper and deeper inside him with no hints of stopping. “Almost there, you are doing so great Choso, you can do it.” You chuckled into his ear, watching his eyes flick with lust.

After whispering some words of encouragement, you started kissing the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Those wild kisses soon turned into feverish bites and sucks, marking his neck and shoulders up in hickeys. Your other hand was giving him tummy rubs as a way to calm him down, but somehow it made him more frustrated.

Couldn’t you just touch his dick? It was practically begging for some action. “GnHhh- ah.. fu-fuck..” He cursed when he felt the silicon toy hit places he didn’t even know existed, it was so deep inside him that it almost hurt. It was also rubbing against everything, every friction caused him to whine so damn lewd. Poor baby was practically begging that it would bottom out soon.

When you finally fit it all inside, you couldn’t hide your own arousal and praised him, “it’s all in now, you did so well dear, so good for me.” This surprised Choso as well, so he actually did it without splitting into two halves, he managed to take that huge thing inside him. “Hmm, it’s.. so.. so deep.” He eventually gasped out, eyes rolling back as he tried to get used to this feeling, the sensation of being filled to the brim.

Somehow he could feel his body shaking around it, pulsating even. The tip of that thing was pressing against something it shouldn’t, enough to trigger his natural instinct to close his legs. To his disadvantage, he couldn’t do that, because you especially ordered for him to keep his legs spread. Tears were rolling down his cherry-red face, and his silky locks stuck to his skin due to the sweat.

At this point his dick was all red and swollen, leaking uncontrollably. His precum dripped all the way down to his hole, dirtying everything on its path and making it look like he got wet for you. “So adorable…” you mumbled again, biting his ear while you were at it. “Ah.. it stings…” He gasped out, probably not even aware of the fact that he just voiced out his thoughts. “What does? Me biting you, or the toy ravaging your insides?” You commented, you really couldn’t just leave him alone huh.

Soon after, you started moving the makeshift dick in and out of him, causing him to become a twitchy something. His dick wriggled back and forth, hitting his lower abdomen often enough to create a few sticky strings connecting his belly to his tip. None of those details escaped your sharp gaze, every lewd part of his body has been mesmerized by you. That’s how you noticed a slight bulge on his tummy. At first, you thought you were seeing things, but then it turns out you weren’t just hallucinating.

Whenever you pulled the toy out, the bulge seemed to disappear, he would also inhale sharply. And when you pushed it in the bulge returned, followed by a high-pitched groan from the male. You were captivated by his shameful state, head thrown back as all kinds of noises left that cute mouth of his. He was also arching his back off from your chest, before slumping down and leaning against you again.

Then he suddenly cried out, sobbing while he whimpered some more. The cause was your mean remarks, man, don’t you know he’s very sensibel and emotional when doing it? His mind was preoccupied with the question you gave him moments before. He couldn’t answer that, he didn’t want to open his mouth, otherwise, all kinds of sinful sounds would slip from his throat. At the same time he wanted to please you.

Positively surprised. That was the best way to describe how you felt in that moment. Heck, before seeing it with your own two eyes, you didn’t even believe something like that was possible. Choso noticed you were staring at his belly for an unusually long time, so naturally, he also looked in that direction. Yet, he didn’t notice anything, only your hand feeling him up as if you were looking for something. “Is so-ughh, something wrong?”

Hearing his voice made you snap back to reality, then you grinned at him, “don’t worry, everything’s fine. Just… look here.” You explained and rubbed the bulge with your fingertips. “Mhm..! What?” The boy looked a little confused, to which you said, “Don’t you see this?” When you noticed he didn’t understand what you meant, you trusted the dildo as deep inside him as you could. “AaHhnNGH..! y-y/n!!” He moaned out loud, before yelling your name with a slightly frustrated tone.

“Do you see it now?” You looked at him with an expectant gaze, hoping he would catch on to what you were implying. “I-I.. hNhn!!” Even though he didn’t know exactly what you were getting at, he knew there must be something with his tummy. Because whenever you rubbed that one specific spot, he could feel himself clench around the silicon toy harder. “I re-really don’t know.. hngh te-tell me, please.” He pleaded, which caught you off guard.

You didn't expect him to start begging so soon, and over something this trivial too. “Well, you see..” Since he wanted to know so badly, you’ll gladly explain it to him. Hands gripping the toy tighter as you moved it out of him, watching with enthusiasm as the small bulge vanished. “Whenever I push this right back inside you-..” The moans of the male interrupted your explanation, “ha-haa.. uHHnmm,!!” Yet you didn’t let it stop you, ignoring it as you continued with, “…a bulge starts to form right here, see?”

Once again you pressed the tip of the dildo against his deepest spots, making a mess out of him. Oh, how blissful this sensation was, he didn’t want this to stop. Hold up, wait for a second. Did he just hear that right? A bulge..? His once half-lidded eyes were ripped completely open, fixated on his belly just like yours. “A bu-bulge??” Poor baby stumbled over his own words, on one hand, due to overstimulation, on the other because he was so shocked. Was that thing really so deep inside him that it created a bulge there?

“Right here darling, look.” You whispered and rubbed circles around that spot, and you were right, he sees it now. Suddenly waves of pleasure washed over him, taking him by storm. It only intensified when you kept pressing against it, saying things like, “can you feel the dick on the other side? I can feel something hard beneath this.” How was he supposed to know? All he knew was that he was on the verge of breaking, or that the dick was ridiculously deep inside him!

More tears decorated his pretty face, while one moan after another escaped him. “It-it’s scary.. mHmm, nghh, but it feels good, ahh..” It was as if you were hypnotized by that discovery, you only had eyes for that adorable little bulge now. In the beginning, you thrusted the dildo slowly but far inside him, with time, you got sloppier yet faster, pounding his puffy hole with it as if he was a flashlight. And he enjoyed every second.

His squishy walls tightened around it whenever you’d mention how cute he was, and how much you loved him. But it’s tremble and curl when your palm rubbed his tummy, specifically his belly bulge. Due to how fascinated you were, and how much force you used to rut that thing into him, he was almost sure you were fucking his stomach. His womb ♡

Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t mind it one bit, on the contrary, he adored it. You were showering him with so much praise again, he could literally cum just from your words. “Y/n.. pleaseee, so mhHgnn, ngHhn!!” Choso cried out, tears rolling down his pale complexion, decorating his already handsome face.

He really wanted to touch his cock, to wrap his hands around his shaft. It’s been denied of any attention and love all this time, due to you only focusing on the new toy you’ve found. The man didn’t mind it one bit, his body was yours to use and if you deem that part uninteresting then so be it. Since you didn’t give him permission to touch himself, he won’t, simple as that. What a good boy he was, right? Please praise him~

“Ah-hNnn, MHMM! y/Nn!! i ca-can’t ♡…” In the end, he could feel himself getting closer to the finish line; he reached his limit. If you saw his face right now you would be met with a melting expression from him, how lucky that you were located behind him. He’s been fucked stupid at this point, brain turning into mush and rid of any thoughts.

You were so cruel, hitting the toy against his now absurd and used prostate like this without giving him a break. Damn it, and you were still fucking his womb without ceasing your pace. There wasn’t a single coherent thing in that skull of his, all he could think of was you and the pleasure you brought upon him. Never has he ever felt such ecstasy, it as if this was something forbidden which was only reserved for the gods.

His legs trembled like crazy, chest heaving with each breath, and beautiful moans slipping from his rosy lips. Multiple scratch marks were on his shin, all due to him gripping them with too much strength. That exhausted body of his was rid of any energy, all he could do was slump against you while begging meekly, “Please, plea-hic…” he turned his head around so that he was rubbing his cheeks against the nook of your neck, sobbing into your shoulder while wearing such an erotic expression.

Soon, that spot was wet with tears. There was nothing he desired more than you right now, all of your touches, everything you had to give. He wanted- needed all of it. “Hah.. go on, cum for me baby. Show me how much you enjoyed this.” You were just as excited as he was, every single one of his actions was so amusing and loveable it made you fall for him even more. Especially when he hid his face against your chest as if to crawl away from the pleasure that was eating him from the inside.

It took your everything to not just devour him right now. Your affection for him grew with each passing second, filling you up with lust and warmth. “hnGnN!! Oohhh… I’m close- I’m cum-cumming..!!” With much efforts, the black haired man managed to gasp out a warning. Even then he kept stuttering and stumbling over his words. Sadly, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. Please believe him, he tried his best to warn you! But it was too sudden, he didn’t have time to wait until you gave him permission..!

Thick, white ropes of cum shoot out of his dick, it was everywhere. On his thighs, lower body, and the mattress. Some of it got onto the dildo as well. At the same time, a loud, final moan escaped his throat, followed by many pants and gasps. “Cu-cuuminghnnn!!! NhgHNMNNN!!… ha-hahh, ha-hgnnh..♡♡♥︎” Choso kept breathing raggedly, still riding out his high. Your shoulder was all damp now due to his tears, nothing new. You didn’t care the slightest bit about something this trivial anyway.

After you were sure he calmed down a little, you pulled the toy out of him. No matter how much you wanted to keep going, your lovely partner seemed too out of it to continue. And his comfort was still over your own desires. You kissed his forehead and wiped his tears with your sleeves, then you hugged him tightly, not caring about getting your clothes dirty with his cum. “You did so well my love, I’m so happy and so proud of you!”

In response to your affectionate touches, he flinched and twitched, due to his body being overly sensitive now. He even came untouched, how embarrassing. You say how his body language was avoidant. He was always like this when reality finally crashes down on him and reminds him of how humiliating all those acts were. Which is why you praised him once again, repeating your previous statements. That was all he needed to hear, to know that you liked it just as much as he did.

“Mhm..” The male nodded ever so slightly, barely even having enough strength to stay awake. Though he did notice you smiling at him, so he tried his best to give you a smile too. “Come on, I’ll help you get to the bathroom.” You chuckled as you helped him stand up, letting him use your shoulder as stabilisation. While the two of you clumsily slenderer towards the bathroom, you mumbled under your breath, “Seems like I got to shower with you in the end anyway.”

Tags: @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

Sex toys, especially dildos are very popular. I mean, what other ways do we have to fuck someone when we don’t have a dick? Just kidding. Back to business.

In fiction there are no infections and HIV or STI or aids etc. but sadly that exists in real life :[

Avoid it by using a condom over the toys, even the small little bullet vibrators! Don’t be lazy and wash them after each use, even if you used a condom, you can never be safe enough. Do it with warm water and soap - since bacteria’s doesn’t like heat and soap kills bacteria’s. Most of the time each toy comes with an advise or instruction on how to wash it/ use it, so please do read it, these aren’t just for show.

There are sex toys that are made out of materials that absorb germs, and these germs can Ofc lead to infections. Some materials that fall under these categories are rubbery plastics aka. Silicone blends, jelly rubber, PVC, vinyl, TPR, TPE, elastomer… (got that list from Google, there are definitely more) so be careful what you are purchasing!! You can use these kinds of toys, just use a condom. Oh, btw, silicon lube can react with silicon dildos, so use a condom (again) or buy water-based lube. That one is way safer, it works with every material.

Don’t share sex toys with other people, these things have to belong to one individual only. A dildo that has been used in the anus also shouldn’t enter a vagina without washing/ changing condom since it can lead to illnesses. But this is common knowledge sorry for boring you guys.

We just talked about anal sex, so let’s go a little more into detail. Make sure you use a lot of lube if you are opting for anal. Unlike omegaverse it doesn’t get wet with slick or whatever. That means it’s dry as fuck, don’t be petty with the lube. Otherwise it will be painful, uncomfortable and unsafe, it’s not a stretch that the butt could tear.

And i’d always advise using a condom because sexual infections are almost always caused due to germs coming into contact with blood. Even if you can’t actually see the blood and where really gentle while practicing anal, there are often micro cuts and wounds inside the anus that one wouldn’t be able to notice from the outside. Just a small wound like that is enough to get infected. Oh and use an enigma, though everyone alr knows that :>

[sytoran]

home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting

word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

*****

In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.

After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.

“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.

“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries. 

“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.

Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile. 

The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.

“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.

Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.

“Oy, lovebirds!”

At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.

Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas. 

Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.

“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.

“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila. 

Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.

“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him. 

Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically. 

Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”

Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells. 

“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —

And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie. 

The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.

A quiet hush falls. 

Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.

“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”

*****

As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly. 

Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair. 

“You ready to ride the waves, bub?” 

“Yeah! I’m ready!”

Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.

Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art. 

Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?

“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.

You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily. 

When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.

Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.

“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”

“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”

“There goes my heterosexuality.”

You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.

“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?” 

You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.

But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.

“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.” 

It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.

“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”

Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.

Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.

Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.

“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.

The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.

“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair. 

You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.

“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.

You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts. 

The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.

“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.

Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.

It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.

Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely. 

Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.

“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.

You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.

Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly. 

“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”

Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.

You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”

Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.

*****

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.

You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”

Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.

Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.

As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.

You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.

As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.  

The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot. 

Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.

You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.

“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.

“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.

“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.

You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from. 

“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest. 

“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness. 

Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.

In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.

“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.

In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—

“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air. 

But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.

You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)

“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.

“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.

“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.

Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response. 

*****

Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting. 

And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.

You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.

Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.

“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you. 

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.

The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself. 

The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.

“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.

Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.

“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.

“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.

You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.

“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.

Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.

“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.

“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.

“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure. 

Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.

It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.

Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes. 

Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.

You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.

Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.

Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange. 

With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.

“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”

Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”

“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”

*****

and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!

reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊◜ thinking about reader and bakugo’s intense “I’m home!” sex after he gets back from a month long mission. (follow up to this!!)

『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ꒰ tags & content ꒱ 18+ MDNI! masturbation, mentions of phone sex, toy usage (vibrator), praise, light dom/sub dynamic, pet names (baby, peach, sweets, good girl, princess - one mention of slut and whore but affectionately!), fingering, minor roleplay (bakugo in his hero gear & reader wears his mask), oral (blowjob), facial, cum eating, lots of dirty talk, nipple play, marking - biting/scratching, a sprinkle of choking, hair pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, aaand fluff! aged up characters to 22. ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — i didn’t expect this to be as long as it is, buuuut i had a lot of ideas of what they did when he came home...so there's a lot. what can i say? y'all missed each other! the smut immediately starts under the cut and does not stop until the end! 😵‍💫 ｡‧˚ʚ cross-posted to ao3 | word count; ~3.7k ɞ˚‧｡ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

It's been a long month without Katuski being home. You've done everything you can think of to keep yourself busy while he's been away - played games, read books, hung out with friends and worked overtime to make the days fly by. You called each other day and night, talking for as long as his assignments for the day allowed. Thankfully, they gave him his own room as an accommodation and didn't have to worry about sharing with anyone else.

Boy, did that come in handy.

You two are not shy and foreign to phone sex of all kinds, it was something you actually talked him into doing when you're apart longer than a week for work. FaceTime, voice notes, sexting; the full gambit. You had a private collection on your phone with all his voice notes that he'd sent to you over the years. You used it as "material" for when you're alone.

One folder was all for praise - "that’s my good girl," "go slow sweets, I wanna watch ya take every inch of me," "you’re so cute when you’re begging on your knees, baby," "love watching your soft lips wrap around my cock," "your moans are so fuckin’ pretty, peach," “god, y’have no fuckin’ idea how goddamn wild you drive me,” and more snippets of him coaxing you along to get you off.

The second folder? That was your sacred treasure trove. There were only three files, but they were some of the hottest things Katuski's ever graced you with. They were 10 minute audio clips of him jerking off to the thought of you, vocalizing every detail. Thank god for advanced technology because it allowed you to hear every mumbled ‘fuck’ under his breath, hushed grunts and audible shudders.

You didn’t have any other plans for the day - listening to your boyfriend’s sexy voice while you test out a new vibrator sounded like the perfect solution!

Stripping out of your clothes, you grab a t-shirt from his dresser and throw it over your naked body. It loosely drapes over the top of your thighs, barely hiding the fact you’re not wearing any panties. You grab the vibrator from your nightstand and lay in bed, phone nestled into the pillow next to your head. You decide to choose one of the three files at random. Before you even hit play, your face is flushed and heart is threatening to burst through your ribcage. It doesn’t take long for you to succumb to the gratification, getting lost in his husky moans and the hum of the vibrator.

You’re too busy to notice that the apartment’s front door has opened, along with the commotion of Katsuki dropping his bags in the doorway. He doesn’t say anything as he’s taking off his boots, assuming you could be taking a nap or had headphones on if you didn’t come skipping down the hallway. He didn't tell you he was coming home two days early and wanted to surprise you!

What a surprise it was for him to hear subtle mewls coming from your joint bedroom, immediately catching his attention. He was still in his hero gear, minus his gloves and gauntlets, with his mask settled into his hairline like a headband. As quiet as possible, he tip toes down the hall and peeks around the doorframe. He could hear faint audio playing and a buzzing noise, but couldn’t make out what it was until he got to the doorway.

When he peeked through the crack in the door, his dick throbbed violently as it tented his cargo pants. The sight of you sprawled out on the bed, viciously fucking your new vibrator in nothing but his t-shirt was hot as hell. And you were listening to...his voice notes? He was entranced by your delicious moans and how your legs twitched when the vibrator hit your swollen clit. Part of him jokingly thought you didn’t even need him right now, since you technically did have a version of him, but his selfishness took over instead.

Willpower be damned, he needed you. Now. It took everything in him not to pounce on you right then and there.

Katsuki retreats to the living room and sits on the couch, desperately fighting the urge to start playing with himself to the sound of you doing the same. Instead, he pulls out his phone and clicks on your name to call you. He could hear your phone’s audio shift from his own voice to your ringtone, a startled yelp escaping you.

“H-hey babe,” You answer, panting quietly. “What’s up?”

He almost bursts out into laughter, but keeps it together enough for his little charade.

“Everythin' alright? Ya sound outta breath,” Katsuki teases, but decides to get to the point. “Eh, fuck it. Come into the living room.”

He hangs up and hears your feet padding against the wooden floor instantaneously. Within seconds, you slide into view, overjoyed that he’s home.

“Kats!” You squeal, scrambling over to the couch and jumping into his lap. You’re peppering his lips, neck, cheeks and forehead with rapid fire kisses, giggling as he tries to still your movements to pull you into a warm hug. He nuzzles his face into your neck lovingly, returning your kisses tenfold.

Your excitement briefly makes you forget that you were just in the middle of pleasuring yourself before rushing to greet him. The realization catches up to you when you fully sit on his lap, his erection teasing your exposed slit. A heat pools in your gut at the thought of him catching you in the act - he heard you.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Katsuki says, hands gliding up your bare thighs and grabbing a handful of your ass, grinding your center against his own. The secondary contact causes a gasp to fall from your lips. You don’t respond verbally but lift yourself away from his lap, creating enough space between you two.

“What're ya-,” he’s cut off by you taking his right hand off of your ass and tucking his fingers against your soaked entrance. You take two digits and lower yourself onto them, coating his fingers in all your built up slick.

“I missed you,” you whine as he flexes inside you instinctually, petting your walls with his coarse finger pads. You start to move on your own, gripping his shoulders and riding his fingers to finish the job you started in the bedroom.

Katsuki is speechless, not even a witty remark coming to mind to tease you. His face burns hot when the sounds of your juices sloshing around his fingers fill the room, a heat creeping up the back of his neck. Since you previously wound yourself up, it doesn’t take long until you’re ready to explode. Your eyes are threatening to roll back into your head as you swirl your hips on his fingers. His entire being is pulsing with need as he begins to drills his fingers into you, knuckle deep, and drinks in all your breathy moans. The string in your belly is pulled taut - tighter than its been in the last month, snapping with an intensity that leaves your thighs quivering within seconds.

You come all over his fingers, down his hand and stain the crotch of his cargo pants.

“Hah, good thing they’re getting washed,” you joke breathlessly as you go to kiss Katsuki but stops you - he shocks you with something he’s never done before.

He retracts his fingers from your drenched cunt and swiftly smears it all over your lips before capturing them with his own, sharing your tangy release in ecstasy. He licks your bottom lip before sitting back, breaking the kiss and settling the two fingers back to your mouth. Your lips part ever so slightly at the pressure.

“Don’t ya think you taste divine?” He smirks as he watches you open your mouth invitingly, lazily sucking his fingers covered with your spend. You don't break eye contact with him the entire time, heavily panting like a dog in heat as your tongue leisurely trails the length of each finger. A thin string of saliva sticks to the corner of your mouth as you pull away from his fingers with a soft pop of your lips.

You reach for his mask in his hairline, pushing it back to fall into your grasp. Untying the small knot, you bring it to your own face and secure it around your eyes - just like he wears on patrol. Katsuki's giving you a curious look as you slide off his lap and kneel to the floor.

Oh fuck-

Putting your hands to his hips, you drag your fingers to the hem of his pants - he's scrambling to undo his belt while you yank everything to his ankles. His cock springs forward, bouncing off his clothed abs as it’s freed from the confines of his boxers. You can tell he’s aching for you to touch him, tip leaking pre-spend and blazing hot to the touch. With no hesitation, you edge his entire length into your mouth, tongue sliding delicately along the underside of his shaft and consuming every drop of him.

“F-fuck peach, should'a let you wear my mask ages ago,” Katsuki stutters, thighs trembling at the sight your lips enclosed around him. “’m not gonna…last long watchin’ ya like this.”

You start to slither your tongue around his length, subtly hollowing your cheeks and barely moving an inch. His tip hits the back of your throat as he grabs your hair, shoving you all the way to the base and meeting his soft blonde wisps with your nose. He's unable to control himself - your mouth just feels too good around his cock right now. Katsuki’s only known his own fist for the last month, you’re making him feel like a blushing virgin all over again with how fast he’s accelerating toward his orgasm. You’ve hardly touched - well, blown - him and he's ready to combust.

His grunts have morphed into higher pitched moans as he’s bucking his hips off the couch into your mouth in tandem with your own movements, ferociously chasing the building heat in his gut.

“S-shit, fuck fuck fuck!” he yells while ripping your lips off of him by your hair, endless hot ropes of cum painting your pretty face. His mask, your cheeks, lips, and chin are dripping with white, each droplet slowly making it's way to your jawline. The sight is enough to almost make him come a second time, needing to throw his head back on the couch to avoid eye contact momentarily and pull himself together.

You hum with satisfaction and rise from your knees, straddling him on the couch once more. In the heat of the moment, you grab him by the jaw and plant a messy kiss on his lips, smearing his paintjob in the process. In the lusty haze, he doesn't give a shit that you mimicked his actions. Honestly? He kinda liked his own flavor - it complimented your own, dancing together on his tongue.

“Don’t you think you taste divine?” you purr, repeating his sentiment and licking some of the smeared cum off his cheek. You untie the mask and let it drop from your face, realizing that you may have just ruined his professional hero gear. “This…is washable, right?”

Katsuki laughs. “Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout it. 's gotta be with how dirty hero work gets.”

The two of you get up from the couch and walk to the bathroom to clean up. Once he’s done soaking a wash cloth with warm water, you’re taking his place and bending over the counter to rinse the remnants of his facial from your skin.

Lucky for him, you’re still not wearing any panties. And bent over like that? Your ass and pussy are on full display, still glistening from your previous orgasm.

Katsuki crouches to the ground, kneeling behind you and bites your bare ass with a huff. The sensation makes you jump, water splashing all over the counter and collar of your shirt.

“Katsuki!” You yelp, shutting off the water and blindly reaching for a towel nearby. “You’re insatiable.”

“Like you’re complaining.”

His tongue then traces from the inside of your thigh and stops just shy of your center, a shudder of anticipation wracking your body.

“You’re playing with fire, Kat,” you warn, spinning around and lifting your leg, placing a foot on his shoulder to teasingly show off your messy core. His eyes dart up to meet yours, a salacious grin settling on across his lips.

“Then fuckin’ light me up, princess.”

Something in you snaps - an unexplainable strong hunger captivating your mind. You wanted him to absolutely obliterate you in any and every way possible.

Everything happens in a flash - remaining clothes are strewn across the floor, bodies pressed against the plush of the sheets when you fall against the bed, tangled and relishing in the bare skin contact. The sensation kindles the fire in your veins, begging for more of him - all of him.

"K-Katsuki," you whimper onto his lips, breathless between frenzied kisses. "I want - no, need - you to fuck me like you hate my guts."

Your lascivious request has Katsuki's head swimming in a lewd sea of thoughts, gritting his teeth to hold back the ravenous desire. He can’t help but fist himself in response before leering over you.

“Oh, is that how you wanna play this game, baby?” He growls into the shell of your ear, squishing you further into the mattress. "Want me to use you like a fuckin' toy, eh? Poundin' away at your tight-ass cunt 'til ya can't take it?"

You're too enraptured by the promise swirling in your head to form any logical thoughts as his hands travel to your breast between your bodies, palms blistering hot to the touch as he tweaks your nipple. "When ya can't walk tomorrow, jus' remember y'asked me for this."

The incoherent whine that escapes you is involuntary, a raw reaction to his words. You hear a pleased hum rise from Katsuki's throat as he towers over you once more. He places a few tender kisses to your neck before he fiendishly groans, "I'm gonna fuckin' wreck you."

Not a second passes before his canines are puncturing your delicate skin, threatening to draw blood with how deep he's sinking into the bite on your jugular. Katsuki releases only to keep biting anywhere he could latch on to as he roamed your body - your neck, breasts, collarbone, shoulder, nipples, hips, thighs - eager to mark every inch of you, claim you as his. It makes you squirm and your pussy ache with need, lightning bolts of pleasure coursing through you with each snap of his teeth. Usually when he bit you, he’d soothe the area with a few kisses - but now? He was a rabid fucking animal, carnality overwhelming his ability to think straight.

You're able to get a quick look at his ruddy cock when Katsuki leans back, repositioning himself while gripping your hips. You’re salivating at the sight - thick, swollen and pulsing, spend dripping down his length and coating the skin with a sheen of arousal. He’s heavily tracing circles into your hip bones, his firm clutch on your waist keeping you in place. He’s tugging your center toward his own, teasingly slipping the head of his cock between your creamy folds. You’re about to plunge down onto him when he pulls back, a wicked grimace crossing his lips. A dissatisfied squeak spills from your lips, pouting up at him with metaphorical hearts in your eyes.

“Y’want this?” Katsuki snarls, bouncing his dick against your mound, the contact causing you to inhale sharply. “Beg like the needy slut you are.”

Words are failing you as you attempt to fulfill his demand, the only sounds falling from your puffed lips a succession of jumbled moans.

“Cat got your tongue, princess?” He snorts at his own pun under his breath as he trails his palm up your body, resting under your jaw and fixating on the seductive gleam in you pupils.

“I know how to find those pretty words ‘a yours.”

Katsuki applies firm pressure to your throat under his finger tips, tilting your head upward to face him. Your hips buck up in response, begging for him to spread you open.

He clicks his tongue at your shameless plea. "C'mon baby, tell me what ya want."

His fingers flex over your throat, playfully interchanging how much pressure he's using over the pulse in your jugular. His gaze travels down your newly bitten and bruised body, pleased with how they adorn your features.

With every ounce of concentration, you blurt out everything lingering in your heat-riddled mind. "Break the fucking bed, rip my soul from my body, leave me choking on every word, ravage me until there's nothing left...please, Katsuki!"

You barely finished screaming his name before Katsuki releases the hold on your throat, roughly returning his grips to your hips and ramming his cock straight into your sweltering sex, the burning sensation rolling your eyes back into your head.

"Good fuckin' girl, baby."

He's hypnotized by the way your tits bounce as he fucks in and out of you at a feral pace, sweat glistening over both your bodies. The room's temperature heightens, the humidity only adding to the wild desire you're sharing.

Suddenly, he pulls out of you, leaving you confused and yearning. You don't have time to ask questions as he's rolling - shoving - you onto your stomach, arching your hips into place before resuming his unmerciful thrusts, growling and grunting from behind you. The new position has you crying out, intoxicated by the way his cock is hitting every hotspot along your walls and g-spot repetitively. You're unable to contain the sounds spilling from your parted lips as they harmonize with Katsuki's moans. He bends down to snatch your hair by the roots, forcing your head off the pillow as his other hand reaches around your waist, finger pressing harshly against your puffy clit. The wail that bubbles from your throat is sinful, overwhelmed as the coil in your core is wound tighter, tighter, and tighter.

"I fuckin' love when you moan like a whore, baby," Katsuki barks out between baited breath. "Ya keep screamin' like that, 'm gonna end up stuffin' your pretty pussy full 'a cum."

You flutter around his dick in response, stroking his length with every snap of his hips. "Hah, seems like that's what your beggin' for, isn't it?"

He screws his eyes shut, jaw clenched as he's inching closer to the edge. Your clenched walls coax his release to come rocketing out of nowhere, a guttural moan spilling out of him as he pumps you full of spend. The warmth is inviting - comforting, leaving you floating on cloud nine. Katsuki lets your locks drop from his grasp and removes his hand from your clit, folding over your back with exhaustion.

Imagine his shock when you push back against him, causing him to slide out of you with a schlep and fall back against the bed. You reverse your position to face him, taking hold of his shoulders to pull him into a sitting position and shove his back against the wall.

"Wha-"

You straddle his lap, springing his still-hard cock back inside of you and begin riding him mercilessly.

"One more," you whisper, voice low and demanding. "I know you can do it, my good fucking boy can give me one more."

Your nails are digging into his chest, red scratches left in their wake as you grind your soaked center against his shaft. Katsuki's stuttering, unable to find words as the overstimulation mixed with praise short circuits his brain.

"Ba-mmph-baby, wa-ahh-wait, fuck!"

Numerous beads of sweat roll from his hairline and drip down his cheeks, slack jawed from delirium. A second wave of release is rapidly rising in his abdomen, high pitched whimpers falling from his open mouth.

"Ah-almost!" you shout, fingers tracing his hardened nipples and pinching them roughly. He jolts, a final whine escaping him as the aforementioned wave crashes down, a second round of seed spurting out inside of you. Your own slick rushes to meet his spend, mixing together as it leaks from between your legs and into his lap.

"Holy fuck," Katsuki wheezes, barely able to speak. "Wh-where the fuck did you learn that?!"

Your legs are trembling uncontrollably as you lift yourself off of his dick, falling sideways onto the bed.

"I...just thought to try it," you sigh, "Never thought I'd get you to whine like that. Fuck, Kat. That was ungodly hot."

His face is burning red and heat traveling down his neck, somewhat embarrassed at his reaction of losing himself in the moment.

"Oh no, you don't get to be embarrassed! With half the shit you do to me?!" you tease, kicking his thigh jokingly with your foot. He grumbles, scrunching his brows together and crossing his arms.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you."

"Good, ya better. Now move your ass over and make room for me."

Katsuki flops next to you, too exhausted to get up from the bed. He wraps an arm around your waist and one under your head, cradling you close as your cheek meets his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thumping away as you close your eyes to the rhythm. He kisses your forehead before laying his head back against the mountain of pillows.

"Guess I should go away on missions more often if that's what I get 'ta come home to, shit. Feels like I just ran a fuckin' marathon."

You can't help but giggle, fighting off the itch to drift into slumber a little longer.

"I'm sneaking into your hotel room next time. No way am I waiting that long again!"

The two of you snuggle close, despite the ungodly amount of sweat coating your bodies and mugginess in the air, too enamored with one another to care.

"I love you so much, sweets. Don't forget that." Katsuki's voice is quiet, the words tightening in his throat as he speaks them aloud.

"I love you too, Katsuki. Forever and always."

He's satisfied with your answer as he closes his eyes, letting the wave of fatigue settle in his bones and lull him to sleep.

tagging @pastelbakugou as a thank you for the idea of a follow up 👀✨ no pressure tags!: @maddietries @slayfics @bkgrl @bub-ss hoping this was explosive enough! 🧡💥

[multifandomfanatic02]

"You Don't Own Me."

pairing : Alastor x overlord!reader

summary : A new overlord has came to play in Hell, you. Alastor took notice in how many souls you've accrued in such a short time. He has to let you know where you stood in the overlord hierarchy, however things don't go the way he originally planned.

warnings : slight blood play ig? Idk. Author trying to edge the reader :)) not proofread

word count : 900

You hadn't been in Hell for long but it felt as if you belonged. It didn't take long before you started catching the hearts of the sinners. A lot happily giving up their souls to simply breathe the same sulfuric air as you. The way you used these souls was unique. You weren't mean or evil in anyway shape or form. In fact, you were often seen as an inspiration.

The overlords in Pentagram City were a different story. None of them liked the way you shot up the hierarchy without even trying. Instilling fear was what got them where they were at and they weren't going to give up their seat to a goody-two-shoes like you. Your methods interested one overlord in particular, Alastor. Despite literally being stuck in the past, he was quite the open-minded demon.

He didn't know whether or not to applaud you or challenge you. Your talent would be useful. He wanted you for himself. And for years he fought to claim your soul and make a deal. And not once out of the hundreds of proposals did he convince you it was a good idea. The two of you slowly started to develop a strange relationship. Nothing romantic but there was definitely tension. While he didn't own your soul, you were often in each other's company.

It was like mutualistic relationship. He staved off the overly pushy overlords constantly offering you a job; jobs that would obviously make you uncomfortable. In turn, you offered your assistance in a lot of his business. It came with pros and cons like any other agreement. He was extremely possessive of you. You were treated like precious property. You had enough. There was no reason for this behavior. Typically it didn't bother you, but something snapped.

"Alastor. You do not own my soul. I'm not property that you can toy with. I should be allowed to go wherever I please." You crossed your arms in frustration hearing him explain why he didn't want you in the Vees territory.

"Darling, you know I hold you with upmost respect. It's got nothing to do with you being property. I understand you are immune to Vox's hypnosis spell. It's not him I'm worried about. My worry is of Vox's plaything, Valentino." He gripped your wrist, leaning ever so slightly to place a kiss on your knuckles. "Understand that you are a sight to behold in the entirety of Hell. Valentino, is not honorable in his job as I, my dear. Without the proper protection, you might as well be an easy target." His breath ghosted your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

It's like he forgot who you were, what you were capable of. It was time to show him how that talent of yours has affected him over time. And trust when you say, it did.

"Oh Alastor, I think you forget as to how I became an overlord in the first place. The feminine charm that you oh so fear backfiring on me is why you have been by my side after all these years." You wrapped your fingers around his bow tie, pulling him down to your level. An enchanting smile creeping up on your face as Alastor's expression glitched out from the bold action. The other hand running through his hair making him let out a soft purr. His eyes focused on yours trying to determine your next move before you could decide.

To his surprise, you gently pressed your lips against his. His head was dizzy with confusion and guilty enjoyment. Your lips trailed down his neck, biting down a bit. Enough for his blood to trickle down. Your hands were now trading between playing with his hair and drawing small circles on the back of his neck. Your lips returned to his, smearing the blood from your tongue as if it were a beautiful crimson lipstick. The poor guy was so touch starved, he gave in to the sudden intrusion of affection. He couldn't do anything but allow you to press his buttons.

Your tongue ran over your lips, swallowing whatever blood was left on them. You took a step back to view the obvious mess you've made. Alastor's eyes were dazed as if he was in another world. His face beet red nearly matching the color of his suit. It was such an unusual sight to see on him. And you managed to do it.

"My my, Alastor, you look like you would be willing to sell me your soul just readingthe look on your face." You held your hand to your lips to cover the laugh attempting to escape. "How the tables have turned, dear." A joke of course, he would never actua-

"Yes." His ears dropped to the back of his head, still standing at your level. No sign of humor on his face.

"I'm sorry, what?" You blinked dumbfounded, mouth agape.

"I will give you my soul, but only if I'm the only one to experience that from you." Your face flushed from his proposal. Alastor had actually submitted to you because of a single kiss? But it wasn't JUST a kiss to him. It forced out desires he had been holding in for a long time. Now more than ever was he determined to have you be his. It didn't matter as to how anymore.

"You've got yourself deal, Al."

a/n: I know this one is short, it was more of an experiment because of a dream that I had. However if you like this concept, I'd be more than happy to build upon it in the future.

[mint-8]

Platonic Yandere Show-Off!

Yandere Mother vs. Yandere Father x Child! GN! Reader

Content/Trigger warning: Mentions of death, torture, and pregnancy. Please read as completely platonic.

- United in an arranged marriage, neither Yandere Mother nor Yandere Father are particularly pleased with their current situation. Both are enraged due to their respective family's tradition of marrying into money and improving business respectively, and are already planning on how get to get rid of the other one so they can live a happy single life, preferably with all of the remaining assets from having their spouse die in 'mysterious' ways.

- Yandere Mother and Yandere Father are tasked with having at least 1 child so they can inherit the entire family business. Their gender doesn't matter. They need to make an heir. Yandere Mother is disgusted at the idea of having Yandere Father inside her, and so does he, but after avoiding the inevitable for a couple years, they finally spent one quick and uncomfortable night together to get it over with.

- While Yandere Mother is busy dealing with the pregnancy, Yandere Father makes sure to put aside enough money for his child's education, entertainment, health, and anything else they might need. Look, he might hate his wife, but he is not going to hate an innocent creature that had no choice to be born to such a horrible woman, he is going to do his best to raise his child right, but might leave most of the heavy duties to the mother. And speaking of, Yandere Mother is excited for having a child. It will be HER child and no one else's, and is very happy that her piece of shit of a husband is going to leave most of the kid's upbringing to her. She will make sure her baby grows with only the best of the best, and of course, only loving their mama! Your sperm donor will only appear for publicity reasons.

- Yandere Mother and Yandere Father who are surprised when your birth occurs a bit earlier than expected, but nevertheless rush your mother quickly to the best hospital in the country while your father waits outside of the operation room. Partially because it will look good for the press and partially because he doesn't want to be like your deadbeat grandfather who skipped his birth so he could drink with some investors. Yandere Father, at least, wants to be there for you. Meanwhile, Yandere Mother is screaming bloody murder in the other room. The pain is horrible. Even when the doctors gave her strong medications for the delivery, she still feels the first complications of motherhood. But even with all the difficulties, she bears through it all and gives birth to what will become of her and her husband's future adoration and obsession, you.

- The first to meet you is, of course, Yandere Mother, who held you as soon as the nurse's finished washing off all the blood and liquids, and who couldn't believe her eyes when she first saw you. Even when you were wet and crying after experiencing breathing for the first time, you still looked like the most adorable of little angels. Yandere Mother couldn't help but cry and weep from the incredible amount of love she felt in the moment, while a warm smile grazed her face, as she protectively held you, hearing your heart beat in unison with hers. She even refused to let the nurses and doctors check on you until she pretty much collapsed from the exhaustion of giving birth.

- Yandere Father meets you after the hospital staff gave him the clearing after running some tests. To say he fell in love is an understatement. This man fell to his knees when he first saw you at the maternity ward, peacefully sleeping with a soft blanket covering you. He couldn't help the tears that fell down his face, or the clear adoration in his eyes. He just... loves you much. His baby, his little angel. The adorable and cute baby in existence was right in front of him, and you were all his! He made you, after all! Oh, how excited he was to get you ot of here and buy you dozens of toys, and clothes and-

"They are beautiful, aren't they?"

"Like an angel..."

"If you hurt them in any way, I'll make sure to hire an assassin to torture you to death"

"I can say the same to you, dear"

- Yandere Mother and Yandere Father spoil you rotten through your childhood. Especially Yandere Father, who can't spend as much time with you as he would like because he has to take care of the family conglomerate, but always sends you hundreds of gifts your way, which are always meticulously chosen and discarded by Yandere Mother, who makes sure to spend every moment that you are awake by your side. She will make sure to raise you into the most innocent, polite, and kind little one in the entire world. She might love you with all her heart, and is more than willing to frame someone for a murder she committed if it came down to it, but she won't neglect you by letting you grow as you please! Oh, no! Proper etiquette classes and lectures about being responsible, respectful, and kind are very prevalent in your busy schedule and educational curriculum.

- Yandere Mother chooses homeschooling with only the best of the best private teachers and tutors to foment your growth! And no complaining or pressure from her extended family will change that! Yandere Father also supports this plan, with the added clause that you need to participate in extracurricular activities outside for your fortified home. Yandere Mother was going to cut your father from suggesting such dangerous activities to fragile, innocent you, but quickly changed her mind when he explained that he wishes to have photos and memorabilia of each and every one of your achievements, specifically those in which you absolutely crush the pathetic competition.

- Yandere Mother and Yandere Father attend every competition and event you compete or participate in, cheering you on from the audience and celebrating with grand parties and banquets for every success or failure. They love making everyone in the world know about their perfect little prodigy and are not shy in the slightest to prove it! Although, if you ever felt uncomfortable or annoyed by such displays of affections, no sweat! Yandere Mother and Yandere Father will completely understand and will keep your celebrations inside of their home, protecting your privacy if you so wish.

- Yandere Mother loves spending time with you to show her affection, being an active and involved parent in pretty much everything you do, always showing support, financial or emotional, for every single one of your hobbies and aspirations. She is also very touchy and cuddly, she specially loved to hold you close to her when you were a baby, giving you kisses and waking you up with more kisses and giggles. She loves to embarrass you with all the photos and loving memories she has of you!

- Yandere Father prefers to shower you in gifts and delicious treats whenever he is free. He especially loves going out to trips to your favorite mall or shops, lets you browse through the different sections, and buy everything your little heart desires. He tries his very best to be strict and teach you about the importance of money, but you give him your 'puppy eyes'™️ and he becomes weak once again. He also loves complimenting you and giving you praise whenever you succeed, as well as helpful tips and advice in the cases you lose or are in need of some support. He especially loves when you come to his home office or during meals and ask him anything and everything you might have in your mind. Your Yandere Father is very well educated after all (and so is your mother!) and is very eloquent when explaining topics and talking about how the world works. He has so many fond memories of little toddler you waddling to his office, asking silly questions and him calmly and sweetly responding as you fall asleep on his shoulder.

- Yandere Father and Yandere Mother loves you so much, little pumpkin. They know that you will grow to become an amazing person, but can't help but worry about others potentially hurting you! So, they make sure to background check anyone that you could possibly have an interest in (romantic or otherwise), to be 100% sure that they will appropriate companions for you. Very few people make the cut, with the many undeserving of your love and attention being quietly taken care of. Not necessarily in a brutal way, but Yandere Mother sure misses her time as queen bee of high-school when she would destroy the lives of those trying to take her down, and Yandere Father has such a vast collection of weapons that it would be a shame not to use them every once in a while!

- Yandere Mother loves you with all her heart and would do anything to protect your smile. Yandere Father loves you with the entirety of his soul and is more than willing to commit war crimes to protect your happiness. The two of them hate each other deeply for always keeping your attention off the other, but work surprisingly well in raising and taking care of you, so they toughened it up and simply focus on your safety and well being. They don't care who they have to hurt, kill, torture, or incriminate. They will do it and make sure you never find out. You are their adorable sweetness. You don't need to know about the atrocities in this world =)

"You are the absolute most, my little star. I love you ♡"

"I'll love you even if you kill me, dear. You will always be my little angel ♡"

[blurboki]

✩ ≫ GIVING STRAYKIDS HEAD WHILE HE’S LIVE

including. ot8 | pairing. skz x fem! reader | genre. smut - MINORS DNI | warnings. blowjob/handjob (m. rec), mentions of begging, mentions of a breeding kink, voyeurism, nicknames, mentions of using toys, humiliation, cum-eating, facial (f. rec), hair pulling, dubcon, felix cums inside, degradation, overstimulation, gagging, deep-throating, d/s dynamics

authors note. ty for requesting! i hope you don’t mind how wild i got with this.. seungmin’s made me feral (please tell me if i missed anything in the warnings!!)

CHAN :

would be so smiley n cute :((

until you kneel down and the realization hits

you can see his expressive eyes go “oh? oh.” in five second flat

the way you’re looking up at him? he’s twitching in his pants, trying his hardest to pay attention to chan’s room

definitely says something like: “alright! let’s get onto the next song, yeah?” while furiously turning up the volume to drown out his soft huffs of breath, plump lips parted to exhale deeply

the way he utterly shudders when you lick from his shaft all the way up to his leaking head has the dreamiest sigh falling from your mouth

the way you’re testing his patience makes him want to fuck you silly 🙈🙈

plays it off as if he was adjusting in his chair, meek smile giving away none of your naughtiness

once you start taking him into your mouth though, he reaches a hand to your hair, forcing you to down him

squeezes his eyes shut from the feeling of your throat swallowing him alongside the toe-curling whine you whimpered in response

most likely pretended to yawn to conceal his fucked-out face and the obscene sound of you gagging on him, babydoll eyes welling with tears

omg the way he looks down at you after that ?admiring your smudged mascara and the drool coating your lips and chin ?? pls eat me sir

“unfortunately, that’ll be the last song for this live, thank you Stay for joining me today..” he says, nonchalantly thumbing at your bottom lip to wipe the residue sitting there

legs spread and cock flushed against his abdomen, you come to realize rather quickly that you got yourself into something dangerous…

MINHO :

he’d prob be doing a live in the meeting room when you arrive, gazing at you pushing chairs out of the way to make him think you’re planning to sit down

till you settle between his legs and the realization dawns

has the most attractive, challenging stare ever watching you go to town

tbh minho is fucking terrifying with his self control in and outside of the bedroom

like he’d be able to answer questions and act completely normal despite his dick being halfway down your throat

pretends to laugh at a comment when instead he reached a hand under and toyed with your clit, gathering your wetness on two fingers to smear on the side of your lips

what he was laughing at? how pathetic you sounded mewling and dripping with need as if you weren’t the one who decided to give him head rn

would def end the live a tad bit early, finally succumbing to the handjob you provided where he came all over your face with the sluttiest moan

10/10 would bend you over and fuck you on the table after

10/10 would keep your legs out of business for a good five to six days (i stand by my claim)

CHANGBIN :

binnie is so fucking transparent idek if he could hide it

but like, he makes weird noises anyways so tbh stay probably wouldn’t bat an eye

sooo needy

gently grabs your chin while you kitty lick his mushroom tip and gives you most pleading stare

if he could’ve telepathically communicated, he would definitely been begging

funny considering how he basically bred you into the mattress the night before , right?

you resort to kissing his swollen cock, ensuring he’s watching when you collect his beading precum on a finger, bringing it up to your lips

to say he held back a moan doesn’t even cut it, poor baby might’ve bit his tongue off atp from your adorable eye contact and the mere image alone

gets frantic enough he blasts gods menu full volume and “suddenly” gets a text from Hyunjin saying he “needs to go”

a.k.a needs to blow

dude absolutely explodes

his moans are the cutest by far >>>

cums all over your face muttering soft “please please please” over and over while his fat cock basically ropes messy strings

he swore he’s never came harder in his life

andddd that’s how you got introduced to edging changbin!!!

jk, it just fueled your obsession with it further ;)

HYUNJIN :

prob the cutest of them all when you give him head under the table

he just feels so good and loved from your attention and the pleasure

has the dreamiest of smiles the entire time despite the music being obnoxiously loud to hide the sound

stays love this live bc of how cute he looked the entire time

lots conspired that he was drunk or smthn bc of how smiley he was, cheeks dusted pink

pretended to drop something so he could groan under the table, thigh twitching and abs tightening as he approached his orgasm

definitely grabs your head before he came, brows slightly knit and lips parted as he met your eyes

so fucking sweet after he cums, petting your head and running a light hand on your cheek where his cum smears

pops his thumb in your mouth, softly wiping your bottom lip of his essence

he’s literally delighted i cannot make this up

totally nonchalant apart from groaning under the table which he hid from view

expect either the softest or hardest sex afterwards

like you’re going to either be carried because your legs are out of commission or because he’s feeling romantic :((

HAN :

.. stay are prob getting an equally good treat too

and no they don’t know what was going on, they just know how from a certain timestamp in his most recent live his voice got a whole lot more attractive

expect a sudden raspy pitch, clicking his tongue casually as if his partner wasn’t spoiling him

on any other day he’d be stupidly whiny, crying from the pleasure you provided

today, however, he just let himself dissolve in the ecstasy, breathing in the fresh air on cloud 9

there were some speculations from stay watching, but it only got as far as that

scary enough, he doesn’t make a sound, casually carrying out conversation and answering questions like nothing

that is until you get impatient, pressing hot kisses all over and speeding up the movement of your hand as you fist him, pretty eyes fixating on his face

aha. you see him slightly wince, bidding farewell quickly with a few over-exaggerated poses and blown kisses

stifles a groan as he approached his high, tracing the corner of your lips as he grumbles an excessively attractive:

“now stick your tongue out, ‘don’t what you missing a drop.”

then proceeds to cum all over your lips n mouth, thumbing away some of his residue there

“you’re so messy, bunny, ‘have to teach you some manners, hm?”

FELIX :

he gets so cocky

and it’s one of the hottest things on the planet

watches you through half-lidded eyes as you unbutton his jeans, taking him into your mouth

i feel like no matter how hard you try to rile him up, it just makes him cockier and gives him a visible ego boost

like, not a ‘thinking with my dick only’ type of ego boost, more of a ‘why tf aren’t you reacting rn, please fuck me already at this point’ sort of ego boost

this man most likely turn off the music just to play it risky, forcing you down on his dick when you get too loud

reads comments as you literally deep throat him, eyes tearing up with how he keeps bumping the back of your throat

it’s insane

lifts a brow daringly as he reads a particular comment and you swear you would’ve moaned so fucking loud if it weren’t for him cruelly shoving fingers into your mouth as you fisted him with a hand

breathily sighs as you work faster, blinking a bit slower and hesitating with his answers—a telltale sign he’s close

definitely ends the live earlier, quickly taking off your bottoms to pull you onto his lap and paint your cunt white

voices the most guttural groan, adams apple bobbing as he fills you so full of him

he’s convinced there is absolutely nothing he loves more than stuffing your pussy, nothing

SEUNGMIN :

i will sit in the grave believing seungmin is one of the most god-teir men alive when it comes to head

another rbf (resting bitch face) king btw!!

meanest but also nicest ?? i can’t explain take this how you want

prob sings a song while you suck him off i cannot😭😭

you’d most likely be more affected than he is (or you just can’t tell), bc you’ll be a moaning mess from how nonchalantly he’s already shoved two fingers inside your cunt, guiding your head into a steady rhythm with a spare hand

smiles every time you mewl on his cock, hungrily watching your hips stutter while his fingers curl and rub your pussy sooo good

lmao i bet he hits a high note when you cream(and when he cums too), drowning out the desperate cries you sob from his lap

ends the live without even a trace of what happened, pulling your hair roughly so you meet his eyes, tears freely rolling down your cheeks

“you wanted this so don’t act like you didn’t. open.” he instructs, and you obediently open your mouth for him, showing him your tongue and lips painted with his cum

“swallow.”

his face when you swallow oml he loves seeing his baby behave

mumbles quiet “good girl”’s when you take his fingers coated in your juices into your mouth

honestly.. i could see him buzzing your puffy clit w a bullet vibrator afterwards while you sit on his dick, cooing as you fall apart on top of him, telling you it’s a “reward” while you’re overstimulated and sensitive beyond belief

JEONGIN :

kind of like hyunjin with his unpredictability, he’s either stone cold or an innocent baby

today, however, he was definitely needy, looking adorably confused when you sauntered through the doorway

gasps when you slip under the desk, eyes turning into round saucers as you carefully rid him of his pants then boxers

has to pause on multiple occasions to pull himself together, occasionally turning his head away from the camera to express the overwhelming feeling of your tongue

leaks a quiet, oh so quiet whine in the midst of laughing at a comment

poor bub gets an army of comments asking if he’s feeling sick from how flushed he is

cutie can’t admit how amazing you make him feel 🤭

ends the live abruptly, literally only thinking about cumming in your mouth

desperate AF when he starts mumbling, pulling you off of him to stick out your tongue as he frantically fists his dick, beads of pre-cum decorating the swollen tip

“oh god oh god oh god— cumming, ‘gonna cum, in your mouth? baby please please wanna cum in your mouth— yeah just like that, good girl- fuck-“ is just an example of his barely intelligible moaning

trust that he came hard, strings of apologies falling off his pink lips at the mess he made of your face

oml if you keep sucking him off afterwards?? overstimulated innie is the cutest thing ever

expect lots of begging and neediness 😍

blurboki, july 2023 ©

[woso-dreamzzz]

Nena

Barcelona Femení x Child!Reader

Summary: Your sister takes you to work

"They are cool, si?"

You stomped your foot, watching as the bottom of your shoe lit up. You nodded. "Si." You stomped your foot again. "Cool."

Mapi beamed at you. She thought you looked super cool in your new light-up shoes and Barcelona jersey. A toy cat that looked suspiciously like Bagheera was clutched in your hand and you sucked in the ear almost absentmindedly.

"Hey," Came a soft voice from the bedroom," I thought we agreed on your normal shoes, elskling?"

"Pretty shoes." You pointed at the new light-up ones Mapi had given you, stamping for a third time to show Ingrid what you were talking about.

She gave Mapi a pointed look. "I told you not to buy those for her."

Mapi didn't even try to look apologetic. "They were cute. She is cute. It made sense."

"They're not broken in," Ingrid replied, busying herself with zipping up your jacket and sorting out the lopsided ponytail that Mapi had pulled your hair into. "Her feet will hurt later."

"She can take them off. We're on the pitch for most of the day. It's no big deal."

Ingrid rolled her eyes before lightly pinching your cheek. "Come on, elskling." She placed some comically large sunglasses on your face. "Let's get going."

●～●～●～●～

It hadn't exactly been planned - your long-term visit to Barcelona - but your parents had somehow won a cruise for two people that was non-refundable.

They had anguished over it for hours, looking to see if anyone could look after you but all your immediate family were too busy or unsuited to look after such a young child.

The answer came, however, in the form of your older sister - who routinely phoned home every other day and listened to your mother complaining about there being no one to watch you.

Ingrid had agreed instantly.

She didn't see you often - with her being in Spain all the time - and you were at the age that everything she did or said was exciting and interesting.

So, she flew out to Norway to get you and flew back out to Spain hours later.

Your first day in Spain was fun. Ingrid's girlfriend took you out shopping and to eat nice food and she even got you your special new light-up shoes.

"Elskling," Ingrid warned when she felt you kick the back of her seat again," Stop it."

"Makin' 'em pretty," You protested but she fixed you a stern look and passed over some goldfish crackers to keep you occupied on the drive to her work.

Ingrid's Mapi shoved a cap onto your head, moving it to cover your eyes before you were hoisted up into her arms.

You giggled. "Mapi!"

"Huh? What?" She teased," Did something happen?" She pushed your cap down again.

More laughter bubbled out of you. "Mapi!"

She laughed with you, enjoying the way you rested easily into her as Ingrid followed closely behind, digging through your backpack for sunscreen.

When you all finally make it into the locker room, it was mostly empty save for a few people who are talking amongst themselves.

Ingrid snatched you from Mapi's arms and smothered your face in sunscreen.

You puffed out your cheeks in annoyance but Ingrid continued rubbing in the icky cream. "Ingrid!" You squealed when she poked your cheek before laying kisses upon it in apology.

"Sorry, elskling but mamma won't be happy with me if you come home all burnt," Ingrid said as you tried to wipe it away.

You huffed in annoyance and tried to peer around her to have a look at this new room. She blocked your eyeline with her body though, changing into her training top before pulling you out of the child-sized Maria Leon jersey Mapi had scrounged up the moment she heard you were visiting.

A more appropriate t-shirt was thrown over your head as Ingrid sat you down in her cubby. "Are you sure you don't want to wear your normal shoes, elskling?" She asked, waving your regular pair in front of your face.

You shook your head stubbornly when you noticed Mapi making faces at you from behind Ingrid's back. "Want these."

Ingrid sighed but let you keep them on.

"Who's this?"

Two girls appeared over Ingrid's shoulder with Mapi, who grinned excitedly and patted your head proudly.

"y/n," She said," She's Ingrid's hermanita. y/n, this is Lucy and Keira, they are from England."

"Hi," You chirped.

The taller girl grinned at you, crouching to your level. "Hi, y/n. It's nice to meet you. How old are you?"

You held up the right amount of fingers on your hand as you smiled back at her.

"Wow," Lucy said," That's so old. You're a big girl, huh? Kei, I didn't know we were going to be in the presence of such a big girl. Did you?"

"No idea," Keira replied. She smiled at you, seemingly more reserved than her counterpart as she waved before being caught in a conversation with someone nearby.

Lucy entertained you for several more minutes, asking you simple questions that you could recognise in English. She seemed just as excited about your light-up shoes as you and Mapi.

"Alright, elskling," Your sister said as she returned to your side," Let's get going."

She offered you her hand to take but you ignored it, wiggling your way between Mapi and Keira, taking the Englishwoman's hand - much to her shock.

Keira reminded you a little of your sister just like how Lucy reminded you of Mapi. You swung your joined hands together with a wide grin as Keira walked you out to where she and the others were working.

You didn't fully understand Ingrid's job like you understood everyone else's in your family. You knew Mamma and Papa did stuff with their computers and paper that was so important you weren't allowed to touch them but all Ingrid seemed to do was run around with her friends and her Mapi.

Regardless, you much preferred going to work with Ingrid than going to work with Mamma and Papa.

Lots of other girls were on the field that Keira led you onto and you tucked yourself into her side firmly as Ingrid's hand came to hold onto your shoulder.

"Thank you, Keira," She said," But I've got her."

Keira released your hand and you were up on Ingrid's hip a moment later. Mamma and Papa had stopped picking you up like this a while ago but Ingrid had refused, citing that you would always be little enough for her to do this to you.

You flopped into Ingrid's shoulder as she brought you over to the rest of the group. She had placed those silly sunglasses on your face again so none of these new people could see the way your eyes darted nervously from side to side as you took them all in.

They were all trying to make their looks subtle but even at your age, you could tell what they were doing.

An official-looking man was talking so you took the time to inspect everyone. You vaguely recognised them, from when Mamma and Papa watched Ingrid work on the tv but you didn't really know many of their names.

But the two people that you did recognise both gave you a smile.

Ingrid carted you away to a shady area just off the pitch and set you up with a colouring book and some crayons. She pressed a kiss to your crown, smoothing down your flyaways before telling you to come and get her if you needed to.

You weren't alone for long though because Caro and Frido joined you almost as soon as Ingrid disappeared. You smiled at both of them.

Frido was Ingrid's best friend and often times came home with your sister. Whenever she visited, she made sure to take you to get ice cream and crepes.

You knew Caroline too. She played with Norway with Ingrid when they weren't playing in Spain. You had met her several years ago now, when you were much littler and Ingrid had decided that she would show her baby sister off to anyone who would stick around to listen.

"Hi, y/n," Caro said softly.

You looked up from your colouring sheet, beaming. "Hi!" You got to your feet and hugged her legs.

"What?" Frido said in faux annoyance," No hug for me? For shame, y/n."

You giggled. "Silly, Frido," You said," You get hugs too."

She looked delighted when you finally hugged her, picking you up and shaking you around for a moment before you were placed back onto the ground with your colouring page again.

"Caro, Frido," A girl approached," Jona told you to get a move on. You can see the nena later." Her English didn't sound like yours, Ingrid and Caro's or even like Frido's. She sounded a lot more like Mapi.

You tilted your head to the side, trying to place her face with the one that you had seen on the tv before.

"This is not any nena, Marta," Frido chastised with a smile," This is Ingrid's little sister. Get used to her face. She'll be playing for Barca when she's older, I'm sure of it."

The new girl - Marta - laughed and exchanged a look with Caro, who nodded seriously. She crouched down to greet you like Lucy did earlier. She reached out a hand that you took - Papa had always told you that a good, strong handshake was how you made a good impression.

"Well, then," She said in her Mapi-accented English," I suppose I should greet my future teammate. I am Marta Torrejón. And You?"

"y/n Engen," You replied because Mamma had also told you to always introduce yourself.

Marta smiled at you. "It's nice to meet you. I'll be sure to get to know you later, if you're going to play for Barca like your sister."

She dragged Frido and Caro with her back to where the rest of the girls were playing around with balls and cones.

You turned back to your colouring page - a cat that you scrawled black all over to look like Bagheera. When you were satisfied, you pulled out another page and started colouring again.

Sometimes, you would look up to see if Ingrid and Mapi were okay (being around so many people was overwhelming sometimes and you needed to be sure they were coping alright) and you would see a new girl hovering nearby.

None of them ever approached - bar Frido and Caro who would come over on orders from Ingrid to remind you to drink - but you could tell they were hovering.

Your tummy grumbled after a while and you huffed in annoyance. You were in the middle of colouring another kitten picture, this one to mimic the kitty you had back home.

Ingrid, of course, had thought ahead and another packet of goldfish crackers had been tucked into the pocket of your backpack.

You dug it out with a vengeance but couldn't quite get the package open. You looked to each side. Your sister and her girlfriend were on the opposite side of the pitch, very far away and you couldn't see Frido or Caro nearby either.

Three sets of girls in the same tops as Ingrid and Mapi were near though, taking a water break.

You rose to your feet, your special new shoes lighting up as you took nervous steps towards the girls. You tugged on the closest one's shorts.

She looked like she had jumped out of her skin when she noticed you, mouth hanging open in shock.

You presented her with your dilemma. "Please."

She took the packet from you but didn't move to open it, instead looking over at the other two girls in wild confusion. She then looked at you like you were one of those dangerous exploding bombs you had seen on one of Papa's tv shows.

"Er..."

"Please," You said again, staring up at her with wide eyes.

She stared down at you with similarly wide eyes.

Both of the older women laughed and one of them took the packet from the younger girl. "She wants you to open them, Esmee," She said," My Mateo does the same thing."

She passed you the now open package and smiled. "You are Ingrid's hermanita, si?"

"Si." You replied with a nod, cramming as many goldfish into your mouth as you could.

The other woman laughed. "Careful, nena," She warned," Slow down or you will choke."

"Will not," You insisted but did slow down your eating.

The first older woman kneeled down to you level and adjusted your hat. "You're a bit older than my Mateo. How old are you, nena?"

You held up the same number of fingers as you did with Lucy and all three girls suitably cooed over you - although the younger girl, Esmee, still seemed a little wary.

Mateo's Mamma, Irene, made sure your hat blocked the sun properly without covering your eyes while her friend, Sandra, let you drink from her bottle when you told them you had run out.

"Come with me," She said," It's cooler where I am. Esmee, grab her stuff and let Ingrid or Mapi know that the nena is with me."

She led you over to where she and the other keepers were working. Sandra was right, it was shadier where she was working and her friends Cata and Gemma suitably oohed and awwed over your colouring pages enough that you made all three of them pictures to take home with them.

●～●～●～●～

Ingrid came to collect you from Sandra a little while later. She put the back of her hand to your forehead and hummed. "We will get you out of the sun, elskling," She declared," It is lunchtime. Are you hungry?"

"Ja."

She laughed at your determined expression and passed your bag off to Mapi, who had tried to grab you.

Lunch was buffet style, Mapi told you. You weren't quite sure what that meant but your sister explained that it was like when you had barbeques at home and you just took what you wanted and left what you didn't.

You remained on Ingrid's hip for the trip to the food line when she put you down and made you hold her hand.

A lot of people were in the same room so you were glad that your sister didn't make you let go of her.

"When Mapi told me your sister was in town, I pictured someone older," A girl who had been playing with Ingrid earlier said," Not a nena this young."

You smiled up at her. "I'm a mistake," You said proudly.

Ingrid sighed loudly as the new girl - who introduced herself as Mariona, along with the girl behind her, Salma - laughed. "Sorry," Ingrid said, shuffling you closer into her legs," Our aunt teased our Momma about it once and we didn't realise she was eavesdropping until she started repeating."

The other girl, Salma, laughed as well. She held her fist out for a fist bump that you gladly gave. "I was an accident too," She said before taking your plate from Ingrid.

Between her and Mariona, your plate was stacked high with the tastiest things that Ingrid complained about.

She dragged you away from them when they tried to convince you that tying Mapi's laces together would be the height of comedy.

You were quickly sat between your sister and her girlfriend at a full table. Spanish chatter surrounded you but you were focused on devouring your meal.

"That is a lot of food."

Ingrid groaned at the words. "Salma and Mariona wouldn't stop. Elskling, wouldn't let me choose for her."

"She won't be able to eat all of that."

"You're welcome to take some if she lets you."

The person your sister was talking to gently tapped your hand for your attention.

"Elskling," Your sister said," This is Asisat. She had a question for you."

You tilted your head to the side. "Hi."

"Hello, y/n. Do you mind if I have some of your food, please? I'm just so hungry."

You studied her for a moment before you pushed your plate towards her. "Okay," You said," Because you said please. Papa says manners are important."

A collective group of squeals rang out from the other side of the table at your words so you fixed the group with a confused look.

"Your sister is cute, Ingrid," One of them said, waving at you.

"Elskling, Ona said you were cute," Ingrid said in Norwegian," What do you say?"

"Thank you," You replied dutifully which only led to the other two girls squealing again.

"You speak good English," Another said - Jana, you would come to know.

"Thank you."

"And your hat suits you," Bruna said next.

"Thank you."

"Ah!" Mapi chastised, swatting the three of them in turn," She's not a performing monkey. Leave her alone."

The three of them wilted and you frowned. They looked a little sad and you didn't like that.

"Ingrid's Mapi got me new shoes," You said suddenly when there was a lull in your sister and Asisat's conversation," They light up when I stamp. It's cool." To prove your point, you ducked under the table and reappeared between Ona and Bruna's seats, stamping your shoes to make the colours light up. "It is so cool, yes?"

"So cool."

●～●～●～●～

Frido stole you from Ingrid with little fanfare when you followed your sister to her gym session.

"Take the bag, Frido!" Ingrid called after her.

Frido ignored her as you rode on her shoulders into the gym. "I should use you as my weights today," She joked, poking your tummy when your top rose up.

"No!" You laughed.

"No?" She teased," Are you sure? I think you'll make a great weight for me."

"No!" You said again as she tickled you. "Nei, Frido! Nei!"

"Alright." She placed you on your feet again and ruffled your hair.

"Frido," A new voice said," Ingrid told me to give you this, for the nena."

Frido took your backpack with an exaggerated groan that had you in peals of laughter. "y/n, this is Aitana. She's a friend of your sister's."

You looked up at Aitana. She looked cool in a different way to Mapi's coolness but she was still pretty cool in your humble opinion. "Hi."

She smiled at you. "Hi, y/n. I have heard a lot about you from Ingrid and Mapi. It's nice to meet you finally."

"Hi," You said again because you weren't entirely sure what to say to that. You thought for a moment before you decided to test her coolness. "I have light-up shoes...from Ingrid's Mapi." You stamped your feet like you did at lunch.

"Wow," Aitana said in awe, cementing herself in your cool list," Those are so cool. I wish I had light-up shoes."

You nodded sagely. "They are the best."

"Light-up shoes?" Another voice said, a girl you knew to be Patri," I should have worn my light-up shoes today. We could have matched."

Mapi had told you about Patri before - how she was almost as cool as Mapi but not quite. With this knowledge, you patted Patri's leg almost patronisingly.

"It's okay. I can wear my light-up shoes tomorrow so you can wear yours too. So we can match."

Patri felt oddly touched at your words. "Thank you, nena."

You beamed. "I match with Ingrid when she comes home too. We have the same t-shirt and the same trousers. Mamma says Ingrid is silly to match with me because I'm so little but Ingrid doesn't care because she's super cool."

"Ingrid is super cool," Another voice said. Your head swivelled between the little group that amassed around you. This girl was shorter than the others but she had tattoos so was automatically super cool in your head because some of your most favourite people had tattoos as well.

"She is!" You got a bit excited at that. Not many people understand how super cool your older sister was so you were happy that someone other than you said it aloud.

"I like you," You declared firmly, holding out a hand for her to shake," Let's be friends. I'm y/n."

The girl shook your hand gladly. "I'm Claudia."

An exaggerated gasp sounded from behind you. "Are you replacing me with Pina, nena? Is she your new best friend?"

You escaped your little group and ran into the newcomer's arms immediately.

"Don't be silly," You said, patting her on the cheek," You're Tia Alexia, my most favourite."

"Very good, nena," She praised, laying a kiss to your crown.

"I was wondering when you would steal her," Mapi said as she approached," I'm surprised it took you so long."

Alexia flashed her a smile. "I though I would let everyone get to know my favourite nena before stealing her away. Want to hang out with me, y/n?"

"Ja!"

You spent the rest of the day, firmly attached to Alexia's side.

You met her the second to last time Mamma and Papa took you to visit Ingrid. They had gone out for the day to do touristy things while you stayed in with Ingrid, Mapi and Bagheera. Alexia had stopped by in a rush of busy activity and ended up staying well into the evening - helping you play all of Ingrid's board games and even putting together a puzzle before your bedtime.

The last time you visited Ingrid, she was there again and appeared almost every day of your stay until you finally relented to calling her Tia when she asked.

"No," Alexia said when the day was over and Ingrid came to collect you," This is my y/n. I'm taking her home with me." She bounced you up and down. "Wouldn't that be fun, nena? You come home with me and we'll have a sleepover!"

"With chicken nuggets?" You asked hopefully.

"Si! Of course!"

"Ale," Ingrid said with an eye roll," Come on, hand her over. Elskling, you can't sleep over at Alexia's house. You don't have any clothes to take."

You frowned at that. Ingrid was right - she usually was - but you were excellent at coming up with solutions to problems.

"Tia Alexia can come to our house!" You said," Because she can wear your clothes and she can sleep in my bed with me in the guest room!"

"Excellent plan!" Alexia complimented with a grin," She's right, Ingrid. Don't separate me from my nena so soon."

Ingrid rolled her eyes, already knowing she was fighting a losing battle when she saw Mapi giggling in the corner. "She's here all summer. You'll see her plenty. Besides, haven't you got to go home and feed Nala?"

Helpful as ever, you spoke up," We can go to Alexia's house to feed Nala and then come home for the sleepover. Please, Ingrid? Please, please, please?"

You batted your eyelashes at her and she sighed.

"You have to promise that you'll eat all your dinner," Ingrid said before winking," And that you'll make sure your Tia Alexia gives you big cuddles at bedtime."

Your eyes lit up with joy. "I can do that!"

[monst]

Day 2: Temptation!

Spit roast | Dick Grayson

Warnings: 18+ content (MDI) Female Reader, Spitroasting, Oral. M receiving Strangers, Hair pulling, Exhibitionism, Slight voyeurism, kinda free use, Deep throating, V. Masturbation, Praise, He calls you pretty, and Unsafe sex. 

WC: 1.9k

    His limbs ached. His muscles were taut, strained from a long day at both jobs. Honestly, he was craving a shower, his blankets and pillows. Maybe a quick dinner before? He was still setting up his plan when he reached the metal grate of the fire escape. He scaled down the steps to his floor, he was just about to pass his next-door neighbor's window. Mind whirling with thoughts of the quickest ways to undo all the traps on his… He stared at the street lamp ahead. 

    No. He was seeing things. Surly? He let out a breath, muscles relaxing as he backtracked a few steps to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Because his neighbor, his shy, sweet, and unassuming neighbor was not doing what his eyes saw her doing. Back at his neighbor's window, he didn’t even have to squint. The breath was knocked out of him, his translucent reflection on the pane showed him the widening of his lenses. 

     Dick thought you were cute. You know in the girl-next-door type of way. Attractive in the sense that when his friends would come over they’d mention ‘Your neighbor’s hot’. Hot wasn’t the word that came to his mind when you’d knock on his door to give him mixed mail, a bashful smile on your lips. Adorable fit you best. Pretty if he was being honest. But, right now. Right now you looked downright sinful. He felt his throat dry at the sight before him. Shame threatening to turn him away only for your salacious moans to draw him back in like a siren to a sailor.

     He wondered if you had a boyfriend. But the way you were fucking yourself onto your dildo had him reviewing all he knew about you. As far as he was aware you were single and in quite desperate need of some Dick. Or maybe he was the one who was in desperate need of something warm and tight. It’s probably why he hadn’t looked away. His eyes were rapt with attention, and his intense gaze focused on your toy's glossy sheen. The way it disappeared between your slick folds. Pressing deep and hitting all of the best spots, he assumed. At least it looked like it was. 

    Your hands were on your knees, your brows furrowed in pleasure as you pressed back against the slippery cock. The suction cup keeps it firm against the wall, allowing you to cry out with every reckless grind. Oh, his friends were right, you were really hot. Or was sexy the better word? Your complexion was glistening due to effort, your lips soft from being bitten, and your alluring eyes were calling out to him. No, not for him his thoughts supplied and guilt threatened to bubble up but your hands left your knees to knead at your breasts. The soft tissue moves in tandem with your thrusts. Hypnotic. 

    You probably felt amazing with how well you were bouncing on the silicone. He could tell. You were definitely someone who just needed it bad. Was he projecting? Was it getting hotter? He could feel the tight material of his suit strain against his bulge. His dick cubbing up faster than he could think. Oh, All his blood flew south for the winter that’s why he couldn’t think. Think? What was there to think about anyway? Your moans were muffled through the glass. He wondered if the thin walls would allow him to hear you clearer. Surely you wouldn’t mind him using your voice to get off. He’d prefer to use your pussy or maybe your mouth since your greedy cunt was busy squelching against the thick dildo. He’d have to make do with your voice and his memory. 

     It was just his luck that your eyes met when he began to move his feet. Your lidded gaze stopped him in place, your fucked out face more enticing now that you were focused on him. He felt the first tendrils of remorse, but before they could lap at his brain you were opening your mouth. His jaw dropped. His slutty neighbor had just invited Nightwing inside. He wasn’t thinking straight, he wondered if you were when you asked him if he ‘Wanted to come in?’ Why should he deny one of Bludhaven’s citizens his help? …He did lock the window for good measure. 

    “Look at you.” He breathed. Eyes raking down your form, you moaned beautifully for him as you continued to hump the blue toy. He ran his fingers down your sweaty forehead, trailing down the side of your face to your lips. He barely had a moment to trace them when you took his fingers into your mouth, your tongue curling around the digits lasciviously. When you finally release him, the blue of his fingerstripes are glossy. His breath stutters out as he holds them to the soft lamp light. 

     His teeth catch his bottom lip as he takes you in, his cock throbbing in time with your needy pants. You whine up at him, tears lining your eyes as you stare at the large print of his cock just out of reach. His palms cup your face, the rough pads of his gloves tilting your head up. “You’re so pretty.” He hums. “You like that? Being called pretty?” 

      You moan in approval, your hand making a grab at his muscular thighs. He’s staring at your lips, entranced with how your saliva makes them shine. He throws his head back when you press your palm down on his hard-on. God, it’s been so long. He lets you mouth at the waterproof fabric, your pink tongue pressing against him. The cute kitten licks you give him through his suit leave his brain empty. But sadly the material doesn’t allow him to feel it and he’s swiftly remedying that. Years of muscle memory help him quickly undo the top of his suit. 

     He steps forward once the material is just under his perky ass. You waste no time in pressing your face into his jock-strap. Your hot tongue runs up the protective cup. His fingers thread through your hair and he pulls you back gently by your roots. Your eyes are hazy he notes.  “You're just cock-hungry aren’t you?” He coos. 

     “Please” You gasp. He shudders, lava swirling in his veins as he takes in your utterly fucked-out expression. The way you lick your swollen lips, teary eyes crossing to stare down at his crotch. He hears your pussy squelch against the toy and lets you have what you’re craving. Your pretty eyes blink up at him in thanks he assumes. Your fingers make quick work of the strap and he sucks in a breath when you let the meat of his cock rest against your face. 

    “Jesus.” He huffs. You were really something. He committed the sight to memory allowing your scorching tongue to run up the length of his shaft, the pink muscle curls underneath the head, flicking up to lick his slit. “Mhm fuck, Got a mouth on ya” 

    You hum, the vibrations shooting up his dick, electric shocks going up his spine and tensing his back and tightening his balls. Your nails dig into his thighs as you pull him closer. The wet kisses you leave down the sides of his cock let his grip on your hair turn lax. He purrs when you trail down a vein. Breath hitching when the wet heat of your mouth closes over his right ball. He whines when you release him. He feels your left-hand grip onto the material of his suit while your right comes to squeeze the flushed base of his cock. He was quickly coming to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to last very long.

      You wrap your pretty lips around his head and take him in. He’s trying not to buck into you, but you seem to take more of him with each bob. The grip he has on your scalp stops you from taking him any further. Nightwing’s brows furrow when he slips from your mouth. He meets your cute glare with a confused frown. “I wanna choke on it.” He wonders if you heard his breath catch. 

     “Can I?” You ask sweetly, your hand pumping his slick cock. 

     “Of course.” He grins down at you. He briefly wonders if your thighs are sore, but when the head of his cock reaches the apex of your throat he drops the thought. He feels your hand leave his cock in favor of clutching onto the hard muscles of his butt. He hears you gag and his eyes roll back. His hips buck, more of him sliding down into your throat. He enjoys the flex of your throat before he feels your preemptive retreat and his grip on your hair tightens. He holds you till you settle “Good girl keep breathing through your nose for me.” 

      He’s greedy. He knows it when he sees the two inches of his cock still sitting out of your slick mouth. “Can you take more?” He pants “All of it.”  And, when your nose is finally pressed against his pelvis his hands smooth over your hair 

    “Doing so good for me.” He purrs. When he pulls his hips back you try to chase him. He laughs. “Not going anywhere baby, gonna fuck your hot mouth like you asked” 

     When he thrusts back into your mouth he’s greeted by your rolling eyes. Drool drips down the corner of your lips and onto the floor as he fucks your throat. He feels you whine and his hips stutter. His thrusts are pushing you against the dildo harder, at an intensity you hadn’t managed. He’s barely allowing you air and your dildo is pressing right up against your sweet spots. His fingers scratch at your scalp as he snaps his hips into your face. His salacious moans echo over the wet paps. 

      He’s close, and god you're so pretty. Your teary eyes drip as much as your pussy as he abuses your throat. Your lashes are clumped together and he's got a nice view of you grinding down on the toy. Slobbering all over his cock like a good fucking girl. Shit! The fact that you're getting off to this as much as he is... He groans, his eyes rolling as he spills into your mouth. It hits the back of your throat hot, thick, and copious and it spills down your bruised lips. He’s got to do this again with you. 

     Nightwing feels you swallow, your body trembling as you clench down on the blue toy, your sloppy pussy gushing onto your floor. “Fucking beautiful” He whimpers. Your knees weaken and he’s too stunned to catch you. “Oh! sorry.” His fingers brush your tears away as you come down from your high. The rough pads of his gloves were surprisingly gentle against your face. And when you finally sit up he speaks. 

    “Sorry, I didn’t warn you.” he hands you the glass from atop your dresser. “It’s been a while.” He adds. You take slow sips, your hazy eyes watching as he slips his suit back up his scarred body. Once he’s done he beams down at you. You’re caught off guard when he helps you up from the floor and begins to clean up. You can’t see his eyes when he comes back to wipe the slick from your thighs and pussy and he’s grateful for it because suddenly he’s parched. 

   “Do you mind if I come back some other time?” You nod happily a smile on your blissed-out face. Dick matches your grin, he’ll come back to his senses soon- 

    “Yeah, but bring your own condoms” Your voice was shot.-But not now, Hnnng would he be pushing it if he asked for one more round? He’d return the favor no problem! His mouth was cotton just thinking of it. Your drippy cunt quenching his thirst!? He’ll ask.

Kinktober2024|Masterlist

[mydarlingclaudia]

I could be mom (unless you want to be dad)

note : divider is from @/grlselle. handful of paragraphs before smut sowwy. I also just wrote this spur of the moment because I finally had a bit of motivation and this is the winner of that poll I did last week and I was bored so the smut isn't that long and I'm remembering that I never really knew how to write smut soooo. mdni

wc : 1.4k

tags : @lottiies @luvrgreyy

desc : whiny husband. smut!! - unprotected p in v, riding. established relationship, little bit of fingers in mouth whoopsie, you've got a daughter, fem!reader, vendetta!Leon, not proofread

You unbuckle your daughter’s seatbelt and pick her up out of her booster seat, housing her up onto your hip while you straighten your purse on your shoulder and walk to the front door. Leon’s motorcycle is propped up on its kickstand in the driveway, you didn’t know he was supposed to be back yet. He told you he’d be getting home late, but you got home later than him, apparently. At least your daughter wouldn’t jump up on him now that you’re home, she’s out cold, he’s probably drunk or asleep.

New York had been hard on him. You were upset enough when he told you he was going to Colorado for a week three days beforehand, but having him come home and tell you he didn’t even get to relax as much as he wished because he got pulled into work just made you annoyed. You loved your husband, truly, but he could piss you off like no one else. You know his work is messy, you know he can’t be around all the time, you know he’d rather ease his problems by drinking rather than opening up to you. And you know he's trying to protect you and your daughter, you just can't really help but want something normal.

Maybe you had to work on actually planning things with him, though. Dinner was often between five and nine p.m., you and Leon haven’t been on a date night in like, what, a year now? You know it’s not about him not being attracted to you, your schedules are just so busy that there hasn’t really been enough time for the two of you to go out on a dinner date or something like that.

The house is dark when you step inside, you don’t smell any alcohol, either. You kick off your shoes and take your daughters off as well before you put your keys into the tiny bowl on the kitchen counter, you’re not going to bother to change your daughter into her pajamas, she’s already in shorts and a shirt, that’s good enough and you’re tired, anyway.

Her room is always messy, you’re lucky you don’t trip over any toys even when you turn on the light. You spend maybe ten seconds tucking her in and kissing her cheek before you shut off her light and head to your bedroom, Leon’s asleep on the bed, he doesn’t even smell like beer, which is a good thing.

Leon always looks more peaceful when he’s sleeping, you wish you had offered for him to come over to your friend’s house with you and your daughter tonight, maybe letting him rest was good, though. So you change into pajamas and lay next to Leon, who instantly stirs.

“Hm…?” Leon murmurs when you wrap your arm around him.

“It’s me,” You whisper against his bare shoulder, you immediately feel him relax.

“When’d you get back?”

“A few minutes ago.”

“Have fun?”

“Mhm,” You press a kiss to his shoulder blade, he hums and readjusts the pillow under his head before he finally decides it's to his liking and rests against it again. "Love you."

"Love you, too." You hardly hear him say it, but you squeeze him a bit tighter, hearing the soft chuckle he lets out before he falls back asleep a few seconds later.

—

You and Leon shift around in bed a lot at night, you're never in the same position you went to sleep in when you get up in the morning.

Tonight, though, you wake up to Leon grinding against your hip at one in the morning. You're not mad, he was doing it in his sleep, anyway. Doesn't stop you from waking him up and climbing on top of him after you pull his boxers down.

"Christ, Leon, shut the fu-fuck up!" You hiss at him, continuing to slowly ease yourself up and down on his cock. You've never heard him so whiny before, could've been because the two of you haven't had sex in a little bit.

"C-Can't help i-it-" He gasps out, digging his fingers into the plump flesh of your hips while he bucks up into you. You've been doing this for maybe five minutes now, trying to tell him to be quiet and that you aren't forgetting his needs, but his face is so flushed and his chest is heaving and you can't really tell if he's even trying to do as you say.

His mouth remains open as he continues to let more and more lewd noises escape his throat whenever you sink back down onto him, you don't know how he isn't getting cramps in his hands from gripping onto you so tightly.

But you continue on, squeezing around him tightly because it made him feel even better inside of you. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, your eyes screwing shut while Leon's stay glued to where you're joined, watching as your cunt sucks him in over and over again.

His expression is nothing but pleading and needy and you're so in love with it, your hands rest on the soft fat of his pecs, his trembling hands can't stay in one spot anymore.

"Sweetheart, God, p-please." Leon's voice only gets louder and you have to shush him again, your eyes staying open long enough to shoot him an angry glare.

"If you wake her up-"

"I won't!" He cuts you off, his hips bucking against yours again while his head falls back against his pillow. You're probably not much quieter than him, hearing him whine and moan only triggers something in your brain that makes you mimic him, and there's the soft plap plap of your bodies to go along with it.

You've tried kissing him to swallow up his moans, but your mouths never stay connected for long due to lack of oxygen or he just can't hold your head in place. But his lips are still glossy with his drool and yours, and there's a few hickeys on his neck that he'll stare at for the next handful of days to come.

You know he's close, you're not far behind. Though, you know that when he cums he won't shut up.

But you continue to push your hips up and down, trying to keep your eyes from rolling back when you sink down onto him fully. It only adds more fuel for him to get increasingly louder, muttering about how good you feel and how he needs to cum inside you.

A few more thrusts and he'll be done, you know it. So before he can wake up the whole neighborhood, you grab his chin, forcing him to look at you so you can kiss him. You know that's not enough, of course. So when you pull away from him, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen lips to his, you push two fingers into his open mouth, trying to not his the back of his throat. Leon waits for only a second before he realizes, biting down on the base of your fingers lightly only to then suck on them.

And you're right, as always. After a few more thrusts he cums inside you, moaning around your fingers. The sight of his drool coating your knuckles and eyes lidded with pleasure almost does it for you, but you meet your own release after you raise yourself up to get him balls-deep a few more times.

You sit there on top of him for a few more minutes, looking up at your ceiling while you catch your breath. Leon has yet to tip his head back and slide your fingers from his mouth, trying to catch his breath, same as you.

You're the one to pull away from him, he looks a little annoyed when you pull your fingers out of his mouth and wipe some of the spit onto his chest, but you know he loved everything the two of your just did. Leon smiles at you after a few seconds, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you down onto him for a kiss.

"When did you get so whiny?" You whisper against his lips, then press a few soft kisses there.

"Don't tell anyone," You snort and pull back from him, your hand cups his cheek and he smiles against your palm.

"I wouldn't, that's only for me, right?"

"Only for you,"