#that give him dark brown skin i imagine him having

[madamechrissy]

Jealousy, Jealousy

This was inspired by the Caleb art in the banner by @baobei-bu please love on ALL their art!! Their JJK/LADS art is PEAK

Pairings- Yandere! Caleb x F!reader

Warnings- PWP pretty much, a smut oneshot- HEAVY yandere Caleb, mating press, cum play, oral (f recieiving) tummy bulges, cervix hitting, panty stealing, fingering, overstim, he calls you pip squeak LMAO, JEALOUS obsessed Caleb

My first time for Caleb hehe, rbs/comments appreciated if you enjoyy

"Who is that, Pip squeak?" Caleb murmurs that question with a little smile, as you tense just a bit, feeling your cheeks heating up under his scrutiny, sipping on the straw of your milkshake, letting the sweetness hit your tongue. The two of you have been gaming the day away, taking just a little break in the kitchen now

"It's a... friend." That's what Xavier was really, your sweet friend, who is currently sending you heart emojis.

"Oh, a friend huh? Why so secretive then?" He teases, tapping your nose and just being far... far too close. You shouldn't think so many things about him like this, should you? But you can't help but like his cologne a little too much, like just how his brown locks were falling over his forehead just so, how you can see so much of his muscles flexing in what he wore.

"Just a friend." Your little smile drives him insane, he outwardly laughs, but he can't stop thinking of who's been with you while he's been away, has anyone touched you? When you're meant to be his.

"Let me see then." He yanks your phone high, dark violet eyes flashing for a moment, turning as you sputter and he scrolls through your last messages. "And who is Sylus... Rafael and... Dr. Zayne, I know him, and-"

"Give me my phone back, jerk!" You jump for it, but Caleb is stupid tall, holding it up and feigning a smile he really doesn't feel like giving right now, thoughts racing.

Were you with somebody?

That would never do.

Perhaps he's been gone too long, and you've found someone, but that wouldn't last long when you'd be his. Caleb hands you it finally, laughing a bit as he pats your head. "Relax, Pip Squeak, I was just messing with ya. So cute when you're angry."

"Oh, whatever. Back to the game?" He nods, watching as your bouncy ass sways in whatever excuse for a shorts those were, furious if anyone has ever gotten to see you like this.

You're sitting up on the couch now, legs spread so he sees just a hint of your perfect pussy that lace was hugging, his throat goes dry when you hand him the controller. He smiles with ease, sitting on the floor, hoisting your thighs around his shoulders then, and you pause, faltering just a bit, breath caught in your throat. It should be casual. You two have gamed close forever, but he's so close to your heat, your thighs brushing against his hot skin. Just a white tank top and your shorts separating you both.

"You blushed really hard when I mentioned Sylus huh?" He asks now, as he moves the controllers, and you gulp just a bit, fidgeting some.

"No... imagining things."

"You think he's hot."

You roll your eyes at him, shifting forward as you tilt the controller, slashing your sword and concentrating, the tips of your toes touching his lap. Just that is enough to make Caleb ache and throb, hard cock pulsing, he bites back a moan, you seem too entrapped in the game to notice what your foot is brushing on.

"He's hot, sure. Why, do you... find anyone hot?" Caleb glares down at the controller now.

"Just one girl." You bite your lip, concentrated fully, as he rests a head on your thigh. Hot breath against it making your leg twitch, cunt already soaking. You can't feel this way, you two are just too close... right? How can you be jealous?

"Oh?" Your weak voice just makes Caleb's cock leak precum, he can feel how hot you are behind his neck, he turns his head then, to catch you looking down at him.

"Do you care if I like someone Pip Squeak?"

"N-no..."

"Hmm... hah! Got you!" Caleb's killed your character, making you huff. Laying back some on the couch, you gasp when he turns around, face at level with your cunt, where he sees your damp spot right on your shorts. "Oh no, honey... did you spill something?"

"Huh?" You feel your body react, nipples pressing against your thin top at his proximity, vivid thoughts of far, far too many things working through your heated mind.

"Right here..." he brushes his thumb against the damp sticky arousal, eliciting a cry that makes him goddamn feral. "Can't answer me honey?"

"Caleb I'm... so sorry I..."

"This from me. Or from one of them?" His casual question is laced with something dark, pressing on the spot again, wondering just how many men he'd have to take out, so his sweet girl is all his. "Should I get these off you? Since you're making them so messy?"

"I.... y-you-" Caleb has slipped your shorts off your thighs, your tummy clenches when he clicks his tongue. Now he kisses your inner thigh, fingers running along your swollen lips, breath ghosting too close to your cunt.

"These are ruined too, tsk. Something wrong, pip squeak?" You shake your head, watching as Caleb peels those panties off you, and he has to tuck them in his pocket, thankful your eyes are shut, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks. He needs a fresh pair anyway, you're too meticulous about your laundry and he doesn't get many.

The amount of times he's cum inhaling your panties, drunk off them is insane, even before he left you, when he'd visit on breaks he'd take them, licking any of you up. Sometimes he would jerk off inside them, imagining putting them on you. Making you wear them full of his load as punishment for making him so insane. But nothing prepared him for seeing your glistening cunt, clear trails breaking off, you're so wet you were stuck to those lacy panties clearly.

"Caleb-ah!" He laps you up now, just a stripe up your slit, making your hands entangle in sof thrown hair, as those deep violet eyes look up at you. Dilated, insane, a smirk on his lips.

"Tell me none of them tasted you. Had you."

"What do you mean-"

"Tell me no one touched what's mine."

"You've been gone a long time... you think I just what, wait here, touch myself?" You're shaking as you speak.

"Do you?" You hesitate. "Answer me. Maybe I'll let you cum."

"Let me?" He presses a kiss on your clit now parting your folds and groaning as arousal pools out of your little hole. "Mnh. Fuck... what are we..."

"Am I competing? I'm very competitive you know, pip squeak. I will have to make you forget anything but me then." That's when he spreads your pretty pussy, moaning, he's seen you of course before here and there, glimpses of you naked, but now your perfect cunt is right in his face. He's burying his face against you, nose hitting that clit as his tongue swipes in.

"Oh my god." You shouldn't be like this, you shouldn't be spreading your thighs wider, letting him fuck his tongue in and out of your slick, gummy walls, the noises of his soft whines and slurps echoing in your apartment. His taste buds explore every each that long tongue can reach, you're losing it every moment, those eyes so dark with lust they look black.

He'll make you forget anything.

"That's it, you wanna cum f'me, huh? Pretty girl, all mine." You're struggling to compute his words, to even function, eyes rolling back when he flicks the tip of his tongue on that clit, smile not hitting his insane yes. "Are you?"

"This is crazy, what are we doing... you... I... ngh!" Two fingers slip right inside your hole now, which flutters around the thick, long digits, making your whines even louder as he leans up, his other hand gripping you by your throat, lips so close.

How have you not kissed but he's devoured your pussy?

"You belong to me, only me, can you not see? All this time..." He's desperately scissoring fingers in and out, lashes low over his eyes as he breathes against your bitten lips. "Oh listen, she can talk for you I guess, so slutty for me. Just me, huh?"

You're just arching your hips, a sweet cry from your lips, ones he can imagine wrapped around his cock, while he squeezes your delicate neck harder, hand overtaking your throat. You can merely whimper in response, nodding just a bit, as you're closer and closer, only for him to yank his fingers out, making you whine, aching to be filled by them again.

"Caleb, please." You're crying now, tears running down your cheeks, making you look so fucking pretty to him, igniting something that snaps as he watches them fall glistening down your face.

"Please what, ya need something?" He's squeezing harder, fingers brushing around your soaking entrance, just barely pressing the tip of his finger inside, while you're pressed back against the couch, breasts heaving. "Tell me what you need, don't you know I'll take care of you?"

"In me. Please- ah!" You're getting fuzzy when he slips those long fingers back in your cunt, exhaling as he watches you, curling them just so with filthy squelching noises echoing. "Mnh!"

"This all f'me, huh? All me?" His demanding question barely resonates when you're cumming all over his fingers now, pulsing and gushing, while your own hand grips his thin white tank, pulling him closer. Your eyes roll back, he watches you avidly, every fucking expression while he feels you pulsing on his digits. "You didn't answer me, pretty, that won't do."

He pouts when he pulls his fingers out again, releasing your throat right before you nearly faint, cunt still pulsing. You try to gather yourself, when he's slipping those fingers in his mouth, moaning while he sucks all your arousal off them. He's ripped your top off, moaning as he sees your tits gently bounce out, his own dog tags dangling right between the two of them.

"Look who's right by your heart, hmm?" He presses the cool metal to your lips now, prompting you to kiss them, as he smiles so sweetly, like he hadn't just fucked your head up and tripped you. "Do you wear this every day?"

"Yes."

"Every night?"

"Yes." Your answer ends him, when he picks you up like you're nothing, dragging you right to the plush, soft rug beneath you both, hovering over you, his new tags dangling, as your fingers slip up over his strong chest, his eyes glinting with something you can't quite describe, the situation overwhelming your senses.

"I need to take better care of you, if you feel you need all these 'friends' then I'm not doing my job. I should be more than enough for you." He's leaned up, pulling up his shirt just a bit, revealing rippling abs that you've looked at far too often. "Is that it, I didn't take care of you good enough?"

"No, Caleb you always take care of me. I just... we..." Your thoughts trail off when he's slipped down his sweats, and you see his cock, so long and thick you're unsure you could take it, already oozing precum out of his reddened tip.

"Cat got your tongue, pip squeak? Keep talking, I'm listening, I always listen don't I?" He's leaned over you with one strong arm, yanking your thighs apart further, when you feel his length against your inner thigh, hot and heavy, precum sticking to you, as he cups your face so gently. "I'll listen to every moan, every whisper, so I learn everything your pretty, perfect body likes."

"Oh my god." He's brushing his tip against your engorged clit now, smiling down at you, at how pretty you are on this rug beneath him, your lashes fluttering.

"You work too hard, you need to be massaged everywhere. How could I not see this?" He's shoved his cock so deep inside you then you scream out, and he moans, feeling the stretch, of so many fucking inches. "Look how greedy, she's trying to take him all. Ahh, did you miss me this much?"

You're unable to respond to anything when he's shoved his cock so deep you're stuffed full, whimpering out as your walls struggle to stretch for him, and he's just a breath over you, lips drinking up yours then, finally kissing you after so long, before he is pulling back and shoving so deep he hits your cervix. You're sobbing it feels so fucking good, all while he can't rip his eyes off your face, the dark violet depths swirling.

"Waited so long for this, god don't you know?" He's mumbling now, lost in you, pulling back and smirking as he watches it, his lengthy cock getting sucked inside your too small hole, and the bulge in your tummy. "Look, I hit so fucking deep, don't I?" He grips your chin, shoving your head down so you see it, blushing furious.

"I... that's... s-so big I..." He's moaning as he watches it, his cock making that bulge as he goes achingly slow.

"Look at me fill you, fuck I should keep filling you too, until you can't even think. I need your brain shut off, and focused on me, yeah?" You're already fucked out and stupid, you can only stare at the bulge and blush, when he thrusts his hips with a snap, having you drooling all over his cock. "Can't think of other men now, can you?"

You can't think of a fucking thing, including what's happening, as Caleb begins fucking you harder, faster, delicately kissing your lips like he's making love, as his heavy balls slap your ass with every single filthy fucking thrust. He's whispering your name, until he's got you firm in a mating press, spitting down right on your clit and moaning at the sight.

Folded in half, god you feel so small under him, while his babbling hits your incoherent brain, the lewd slapping of his skin and how wet you are filling the living room. "Only me, I need it to only be me, me inside you, me everywhere."

"Caleb- you... f-fuck!" He's cupping your face as he folds you in that mating press, grinning feral, something unleashed that's damn near scary, but you just want more, nails pressing crescent moons against his biceps.

"Only me. Only me. Mine. Mine. Mine." He's huffing those words as you cum all around his cock, pausing him briefly, feeling your aftershocks grip him, your cunt so messy she's dripping down his balls, down to the rug, making the sounds even louder, the squishing and clicking. "I know, honey, I know, you want me to cum inside, huh?"

"Please. Please." He's smiling, you're being so good for him, and who is he to ever deny his pretty girl anything.

"I'll give you anythign you ask for, don't worry. I'll fill you so good, so, so good, yeah- ha fuck you- ah..." He's stuttering now, faster and harder, his eyes flashing then. "Only me, say it."

"Only y-you... ah- ngh!" You're screaming when he's fucking you so hard it hurts, leaned up to press the backs of your thighs.

"That's it, gonna forget them all, aren't you? Anyone."

"F-forget." Your weak response lets him lose his mind, big hands bruising, his dog tags swinging against your face when he pounds your cunt so hard, cumming so much, with his head thrown back, groaning so loud until it turns into a weak cry, as his hot gooey load coats your pussy everywhere.

"That's it, fuckin perfect pussy, God my good girl, aren't you? Taking me so well." He's murmuring, easing as you're cumming just from him coating your walls, he lets your thighs fall, moaning and kissing you, desperate and hungry. "You alright, pip squeak? Was it too much?"

"It was a lot I..." He's laughing now, softly, pulling back and out, watching the mess of creamy cum pouring down all over, groaning at the sight, you flush as you look down, seeing it all.

"You could have told me you needed more, don't you know how long I've waited for this? I wanted to be your first though, honey, tsk..." He's fingering the cum, making you jerk, so sensitive now, his lips quirking up. "Know how many times I've stroked it? Picturing just this, filling you up?"

"Y-you did?" He's shoving that cum deep, you grip his wrist, gasping now. "Caleb!"

"You're wasting it, that just won't do, I need you to be a good girl." His husky whisper along with those rough fingers makes you cry out.

"Sensitive!"

"You can take more, can't you?" He's shoving cum back in your eager whole, moaning at the sight, his cock already standing back at attention. "I think I know what I need to do, so you never call any of these 'friends' again."

"What?" Your eyes roll back when he's curling his fingers again, hovering over you and grinning, his toned body glistening with a sheen of sweat.

"I'll keep filling you, until you're dripping me constantly." Caleb's got you in your bed next, lapping his own cum right out of your cunt, taste buds dragging in every flavor of the two of you, having you cum over and over, until you're stupid. "Look, so fucked out, aww. You're drooling pip squeak, lemme get that."

He's swiping at your chin, before he's sucking your clit in his mouth again, and you're losing sense of everything, he's fucking you again, bent over, then again, on your stomach, so many loads inside you you're bloated and full, too full. You pass out on him soon, he sighs as he looks at you, so pretty as always in your sleep.

"Ah, pip squeak, we'll have to work on that stamina." He's cleaned you all up, putting your favorite pajamas on you, while you're lightly snoring, clearly he'd been a little too much.

Caleb had waited for years and years after all, for just this moment.

"Sweet dreams, my love. Future wife." He's laughing softly, you don't know just all his plans yet. He goes towards the kitchen to down some water, still naked in your apartment, cock gently swaying when he grabs his sweats, your panties still tucked in his pocket. He slips them on, frowning as he sees your phone light up, texts from Zayne and Sylus.

That just won't do.

He unlocks your phone with ease, it's his birthday of course, you love him even if you don't know how much yet. No worries. Caleb deletes every contact and message, keeping only him, because that's all you'll need now! You won't even be in this apartment soon, he can already picture you at his place, constantly having his babies.

He smiles as he holds you against him that night, but even after fucking you so deep, so much, just seeing you sleeping makes him hard again, and he has to stroke his aching cock just looking at you, waiting for you to wake up.

lmk if you want more Caleb and his freaky ass lol <3

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[rafayelxsylusho]

This was created because I'm ovulating and I was inspired by this art (link here).

What happens when you catch each LI humping a pillow? 🥵🥵

FOLLOW EKAY!!! art is amazing!!!

Full pictures are on Bluesky and X.

"What the hell?" That definitely sounded like Caleb, but the way he called your name was different. Not playful or teasing like usual. It was raw, desperate, almost pained. For a moment you think Caleb must have heard you come home and is calling for you from the kitchen. But the sound comes again, louder and it's clear something is very wrong.

You freeze on the stairs, hand tightening on the railing as you realize the noise is coming from upstairs.

Against your better judgment, you find yourself moving up the stairs, footsteps silent on the carpeted steps. You creep closer to his bedroom door, which is slightly open. You hear him grunt, followed by the creaking of bedsprings. Your stomach twists into knots as you push the door open a little wider, peeking inside.

The sight that greets you steals the breath from your lungs. 

Caleb, is on his knees on the bed, holding with both hands a pillow that is clutched tightly between his legs. His abs flex and tense with each thrust of his hips, the defined lines of his six pack glistening with a sheen of sweat.

A deep moan tears from his throat, your name falling from his lips like a prayer and a plea all at once. "Y/N..." he grunts with a sharp buck of his hips. The metal dog tag you gave him, the one he never takes off, swings and clanks against his chest with every movement.

His face is flushed a deep red, eyes open in concentration as he loses himself in his own twisted fantasy. His dark brown hair falls messily over his forehead, a few damp strands clinging to his skin. He looks lost in his own world, chasing some dark desire that you can only imagine involves you.

You stand there frozen, feeling a confusing mix of shock and embarrassment. You know you should look away, give him privacy, but you can't seem to tear your eyes from the sight of him so consumed by lust.

His breathing comes in ragged pants, chest heaving as he continues to grind against the pillow.

You don't know whether to be flattered, terrified, or turned on. Probably all three. But most of all, you are stunned. You had no idea Caleb was this intense.

The sound of the pillow rubbing against his heavy balls up to the tip of his cock, already slick with precum, makes you squeeze your thighs together.

"Fuck, pipsqueak..." Caleb grunts, "You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight and perfect around my cock." He gives a sharp thrust and the pillowcase darkens with his precum.

His filthy whispers fill the room, painting a vivid picture of the act he wishes he was performing on you. "Gonna fill this sweet little pussy up. Pump you so full of my cum, you'll be dripping with it for days."

Your cheeks flush hotly at his words. You've never heard Caleb speak like this before. It's raw, it's real, and it's terrifyingly intense. A dark shiver runs through you as you imagine him saying those things to you, doing those things to you.

Caleb seems to be chasing something, a release he desperately needs. His grip on the pillow tightens, knuckles turning white as he holds on for dear life. The bed frame creaks beneath him, "Fuck, I need it... I need you... Gonna cum... Gonna fucking cum..." he snarls, hips jerking erratically now. The pillow case is thoroughly soaked, the spreading dark patch testifying to his desperation.

A gasp escapes you as you take an unconscious step forward, the door swings open a bit more. In that same moment, Caleb's head snaps up, eyes flying open wide as he realizes he's no longer alone.

But it's too late. Far too late to stop the inevitable. With a deep moan that echoes off the walls, Caleb's back arches as he finds his release. His hips jerk forward one last time, and thick ropes of pearly white cum erupt from his cock, splattering obscenely across his stomach and chest.

Some of it even reaches his flushed cheek, a single strand dangling from his jawline as he pants harshly, struggling to catch his breath. His pelvis is glazed with his cum, the patch of hair there dripping with his seed.

For a moment, time seems to stand still. Caleb stares at you, eyes blazing with emotions, shock, embarrassment, but above all, hunger. It's like he's seeing straight into your soul and you are frozen in place, your own breath coming in shallow gasps. You don't know what to say, what to do. You are not sure if you should run, scream, or...god help you...take a step closer and let him pull you into his arms.

So you do the only thing you can think of.  You step out of the room, you let the door swing shut behind you with a soft click. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest as you stand there, back pressed against the closed door. You can still picture the look on his face, the raw need that contorted his features. It will be burned into you mind forever.

How can we go back to the way things were after this? 

Your heart skips a beat as you hear an unfamiliar noise coming from Sylus' room. It sounds like...grunting? You pause midstep, standing still just outside his bedroom door.

There's a strange, rhythmic creaking of bedsprings that makes your brows furrow. What on earth is Sylus doing in there at this hour, especially if he's not a morning person? You've never heard him make noises like that before. Perhaps surprising him like this wasn't the best idea after all.

You open the door slowly, maybe he is having a nightmare you tell yourself. Your heart lurches into your throat, eyes widening in shock. He is not having a nightmare, but something far more...intense. He's kneeling on the bed, gripping a pillow tightly between his thighs. The way his arm clutches it, fingers digging into the fabric, suggests a desperate, almost feral need.

His other hand is fisted in the sheets behind him, knuckles white from the force of his grip. The bed creaks and sways with his movements, the rocking of his hips unmistakable even in the dim light. He's panting, low grunts and growls rumbling from his chest as he grinds himself against the pillow, chasing his pleasure.

Shock roots you to the spot, hand still on the door handle. He's looking down at his throbbing cock, watching it, each slow thrust. His hips roll slowly at first, the movement controlled as he builds towards his peak.

"Fuck, kitten," he grunts, "You take me so deep, all the way into that tight little throat. That's it, open wider, take every fucking inch..."

You feel heat between your legs at the sound of his filthy words, arousal dampening the fabric of your panties

Suddenly, his thrusts turn quick and desperate, the arm gripping the bed slipping a bit. The sound of the pillowcase rubbing against him and the slap of his cock against his stomach fill the room. Beads of precum smear across his skin with each thrust.

You can't look away, even as your cheeks burn and your core throbs with need. You know Sylus is seconds away from coming, his thrusts becoming desperate.

He is fully lost now head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, you bite your lip hard, stifling the moan that threatens to spill out. You are not even touching yourself but you can feel your body responding to his fantasy as if it were real. As if you were the one on your knees, choking on his thick cock, gagging for his seed.

You gasp softly as he orgasms, his long moan of "Take it all, kitten... suck me dry" echoing through the room. The sight of his hot cum splattering across his stomach and staining the sheets is shockingly erotic.

There's so much of it. Thick, creamy ropes of cum paint his skin and the pillow beneath him. You can't help but picture how it would feel, the weight of it heavy and warm on your tongue, sliding down your throat. The thought makes your mouth water.

His cock pulses and throbs as he rides out his orgasm, spurting the last few weak drops of cum onto the pillow. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, arm gripping the sheets trembling slightly.

You are about to close his door when you hear his voice again. You freeze, hand still on the door handle, as he speaks.

"You, watching me, made this much more pleasurable, kitten. Don't walk away now."

You should have known you couldnt slip away unnoticed.

Fuck

Three weeks, that's how long you were on a mission and apart from him.

When you open the front door and walk in you notice the house is quiet, too quiet, as you set your bag down by the shoe rack, kicking off your boots.

Your heart flutters with anticipation as you tiptoe down the hallway, the wooden floorboards creaking softly beneath your feet. The early morning sunlight peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the house as you approach the slightly open bedroom door.

"Y/n...fuuuuuuuck"

He couldn't be...was he?

He was.

Your mouth falls open in shock when you see Zayne. He's on his hands and knees on the bed, a pillow placed between his legs. One hand grips the pillow tightly, holding it firmly against his body as he slowly thrusts his hips, his hard cock trapped between the pillow and his pelvis.

His other hand clutches the bedsheets in front of him like a lifeline. His black hair falls forward, hiding his eyes as his broad shoulders rise and fall with each breath. The room is filled with the soft, rhythmic sound of the bed creaking with his movements and the stifled groans that escape his lips. The sight of his muscular back moving with each thrust sends a shiver down your spine and ignites a fire low in your belly.

You realize that he's not just turned on, but he's already found his release once, the pillowcase, now soaked with his essence, testifies to it. He's using the damp fabric, slick with his cum, to bring himself to the brink again.

His cock, the tip an angry, almost painful shade of red, pulses and throbs with need. His balls draw up tight, and his toes curl.

His face, usually so stoic and controlled, is flushed and you can tell he's on the very edge of another orgasm. Your heart pounds wildly as you watch him chase his release, his hips moving more urgently now. His hand claws at the sheets, bunching the fabric in his fist.

Your own body responds with a deep throb of desire. You can feel the dampness pooling between your thighs, the way your nipples strain against the fabric of your bra. But you remain still, a silent witness to the intimate moment, not wanting to startle him.

He yanks the pillow closer, using it for more friction, more stimulation. "Fuck..." he growls "Always so fucking tight... such a dirty girl...making me cum twice"

Contrary to before, he doesn't hold back his noises this time. A guttural moan, tears from his throat as he finds his release. It's followed by a litany of curses, each one punctuated by the jerking of his hips and the pulsing of his cock.

"Fuck... shit... damn..." he growls, "Take it... take my fucking cum..." You are sure the sight of him losing control, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, will be seared into your mind forever.

You step into the room and walk towards Zayne, eyes drinking in the sight of him, back glistening with sweat, his hips still twitching with the aftershocks of his climax. As you approach him, he slowly turns his head, his eyes blinking in surprise and confusion as they meet yours. He's still gripping the sheets and pillow tightly.

Without hesitation, you reach out and swipe a finger along the tip of his softening cock, collecting the pearly drops of his release that cling to the sensitive skin. Then you bring your finger to your mouth, keeping eye contact with him as you slowly lick it clean, savoring the salty, slightly bitter taste of him.

"Surprise, honey," you say softly, a playful smirk playing at the corners of your mouth. "I'm home early."

You sigh softly as you remember the last time you saw Rafayel, just a few days ago. He had been absorbed in his painting, hunched over a large canvas propped up in his art studio.

You open his front door and walk inside, a basket of freshly prepared food tucked under your arm. You walk to his studio but he is not in there.

An unusual sound drifting down from upstairs makes you stop in place. It's a soft, strangled noise.

Was that a whimper?

Your brows furrow with concern and you set the basket of food down quietly on the staircase, not wanting to disturb whatever may be happening, but unwilling to ignore what sounds like distress.

Climbing the stairs quietly you approach Rafayel's bedroom door. The whimpering grows louder, now unmistakable. Your hand hovers over the doorknob and you take a deep breath, slowly turning the doorknob. As you push the door open just a bit, you peek through to see Rafayel.

It's not his face flushed a deep shade of red that extends to the tips of his ears or the sweat dripping down his chest that makes your heart skip a beat. It's the way he's positioned on the bed, with a pillow clutched tightly between his legs, his hips rocking and rutting against it with desperate, needy thrusts. His left hand gripping the pillow tightly, keeping it firmly in place as his other hand braces against the mattress, holding himself up.

Desperate whimpers and whines spill from his lips as he grinds his hips against the pillow, his eyes screwed shut in a mix of pleasure and what looks like anguish.

Rafayel pulls the pillow closer, the tip of his cock becomes visible with each thrust. It disappears and reappears, glistening with precum as he thrust against the fabric. It makes your face flush hotly, your eyes going wide as you instinctively press a hand to your mouth to stifle any sound.

"Please... please cutie... let me cum..." Rafayel whimpers "Please, I need it so bad... I can't... I can't hold back anymore..." You've only witnessed him in this state once before, and the memory of that intimate moment together flashes through your mind. The raw need in his eyes as he begged you to let him find release within your warmth and tightness.

A single tear of frustration trickles down his flushed cheek, glistening in the soft light. His abs clench and flex with each thrust against the pillow. "Fuck... I can ... smell her..." he chokes out, his voice breaking with need. The pillow is now soaked with his sweat and the weeping tip of his cock.

It's clear that Rafayel is thinking of you, craving you, desperate to fill you and but he is also having trouble reaching his peak, so you decide to help.

You walk softly towards the bed, as you approach, his thrusts against the pillow falter, then stop altogether. He looks up at you with wide, teary eyes, his cheeks burning an even deeper shade of red.

That's when you see the raw vulnerability and need in his expression, the way he's stripped bare of all his usual composure and confidence. It's both humbling and deeply intimate, a rare glimpse into the true depth of his desire for you.

Sitting down gently beside him on the bed, you lean in close, your lips nearly brushing the shell of his ear and in a soft, encouraging whisper, you breathe out the words:

"Keep going, Raf. Cum for me."

Those three simple words, spoken with such gentle encouragement, seem to be the final push Rafayel needs. His eyes flutter closed, a look of pure bliss spreading across his face.

With a hoarse cry of your name, Rafayel's body goes rigid, his hips jerking forward as he finds his much needed release. Thick, hot ropes of his cum spurt from his fat cock, coating the pillow and his hand as he grips it with white knuckles.

"Such a good boy, Raf," you coo softly, reaching out to gently brush a damp lock of hair from his forehead. Your touch makes him shiver, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

You're glad you brought food, because you know you will both need it after the long day and night ahead of you.

You slip the key he gave you into the lock and turn it slowly, easing the door open as quietly as possible. The apartment is dimly lit and you can hear the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of traffic, but otherwise, it's quiet.

Closing the door behind you, you pad softly into the kitchen. You have a plan, start on breakfast, then wake him so he can eat something. He's probably exhausted from his mission, and you want to make sure he has a nice, relaxing morning. Maybe he forgot you were supposed to have breakfast together this morning.

You open the fridge and start gathering ingredients, eggs, bacon, some fresh fruit. You had found a recipe online that looked delicious and you thought he might enjoy it.

The sound of something slamming softly against the wall grabs your attention. Concerned you walk towards his bedroom, leaving the ingredients on the kitchen counter, the sound growing louder with each step. Gently you turn the doorknob and ease the door to his bedroom open, just a little bit at first. But once you open it a little bit more the sight that greets you makes your breath catch in your throat.

Xavier is sprawled naked on his back, body bathed in the soft glow of the lights filtering through the window. His legs are bent, knees up and feet flat on the bed. Nestled between his thighs is a pillow, and you can see his hips rocking slowly, rubbing the pillow against his lenght.

Your gaze is drawn to his cock, standing proud against his stomach. You can see pearly drops of precum dripping from the swollen, flushed tip, trailing down and pooling in his abdomen.

Unconsciously you lick your lips, imagining the taste of his skin, the feel of his body against yours.

Xavier grips the pillow tightly with both hands. His long fingers dig into the fabric as he pulls on both sides, tightening the pillow around his throbbing cock. The soft material squeezes his shaft, providing a delicious friction that has him gritting his teeth.

You can see the desperation in the way he's chasing his pleasure, the hunger that drives him to seek more, always more. His eyes are clenched shut, lost in a world of sensation and desire. A part of you wonders what he's thinking about, what fantasies are playing out behind his closed lids to have him so worked up. 

You don't have to wait long for an answer.

"Fuck, bunny..." he grunts, voice breathless. "You feel so fucking good...ngh...take it all, just like that. Squeeze me... You ride me sooooo good... fuck, you're so tight...so perfect..."

There's no doubt about it now, in his mind, he's with you, lost in a fantasy starring none other than yourself.

His words dissolve into a moan, the sound vibrating through his chest. The signs of his impending orgasm are unmistakable. His thrusts become erratic, the grip on the pillow tightening. His breathing grows ragged and shallow, each inhale ending on a sharp grunt or a moan. The muscles in his thighs and stomach tense and flex.

"Fuck,... I'm... I'm so close... Ah, shit..." Xavier pants. He throws his head back, hair splaying out around him like a halo. "Don't stop...! don't you dare fucking stop..."

And in his head you don't stop because the next second he comes undone. His back arches sharply, pressing himself against the pillow, as thick ropes of hot, sticky cum spurt from his throbbing cock.

The headboard slams against the wall with the force of his thrusts, the rhythmic banging keeping time with the throbbing pulses of his release.

His chest heaves as he struggles to catch his breath. The pillow is a mess, soaked through with his release. He collapses back onto the bed, a blissful smile playing at the corners of his lips.

For a moment, you're stunned speechless, hardly believing this really happened. Did he really just...?

Before you can overthink it, Xavier's head turns towards the door, his piercing blue gaze locking onto you. A slow, lazy smile spreads across his face, the smirk of a predator who's just spotted his prey.

"Come here, y/n," he purrs, "I noticed you were there before I came, but I wanted to keep the show going for you."

Of course he noticed you standing there, his hunter's instincts always on high alert. It's no wonder he's the best deepspace hunter. Now all you had to do was walk to him.

Easy...right?

[screampied]

if requests are open, can we see nanami x breeding kink? i know he would be the perfect daddy 💕

❤︎ ໋𓈒 husband nanami finding out he has a breeding kink.

warnings. fem! reader, mating press, breeding kink, praise, soft dom nanami, mdni.

breeding.

he wouldn’t even know he had such a kink until afterwards, finishing inside of you for about the third time with hot puffs of air running from his lips.

his eyes, dark brown pools that intently stared into yours, he’s in utter love with you and only you. your current position was supine—your legs would be perfectly sprawled and spread for him. mating press, such a deep and thorough angle. so deep to where you were practically seeing stars.

“… you drive me crazy, you know that?” he’d huff out lowly between rough breaths. you stare at him with glossy eyes, a hand softly clinging onto his wrist. he was always so gentle, deep yet precise strokes to make you feel every inch. such eyebrows of his curl up and furrow as he intakes a single sharp breath, the feeling of such thick ropes spewing inside your walls makes him groan. “always s—so good at milking me.”

sloppy hips thwack and drill into you, and that’s when he leans right up close to you—you’re met with lust filled fawn eyes and a needy smile.

“ah. eyes up here, wanna see that pretty face,” and his tempo was so unhinged. you glance up at him and he mutters off a soft, “hi my love,” and you could have just melted right there. nanami lightly presses a hand against your tummy, a thumb swiftly tracing near the exact spot where he was reaching you inside. so full, you moan before he leans in to kiss you, yet instead, he conceals his own whine into the crook of your neck. “this—tummy would look so pretty if it was nice ‘n round for me like last time.”

the very corners of your lips tugs, it outlines into a sweet pout before you whimper, “make me fuller then, kento,” you’d heave out. he was jackhammering such merciless yet tenderly passionate thrusts into your cunt, effortlessly smacking back against you. “wanna f-feel fuller.”

you had the white bed sheets bawl into the palms of your hands. everything felt so warm, his hips just continued to rotate and jerk and jerk and jerk. it was hypnotic, he knew just where to prod the head of his cock right against you.

you’re nearly drooling. just imagining such lengthy ropes of his pump you full. you wanted it, no—you needed it. desperately, you were practically being fucked into the mattress—the mattress in question creaked and sang in such harmony it was hard not to ignore its sounds.

the entire feeling, you were clamping down on him so tight that his jaw tenses. a simple sight like that was oh so sexy in the slightest, nanami lightly bites down on his lip. a cute flushed expression slowly painting over his face once he catches you still staring. he was chasing his own breath, giving you slow yet perfect full vivacious thrusts.

“k-kento,” you’d moan with a slight gasp, he brings a hand to slide your arms all the way up. it’s almost teasing, the way he makes you hold your hands high, a soft simper rests against his lips the entire time. your legs quaver, feeling how easy it was for him to stretch you out. his touch, it was blisteringly hot, blisteringly tender.

he made sure to delicately trace his fingers all over your skin. he wouldn’t dare miss a spot. not with a body as perfect as yours. that’s what he saw in his eyes anyway. “so—so goooood, don’t s-stop baby.”

“wasn’t gonna,” he huffs out, and his voice was so raspy and rich. a subtle coarse of baritone hidden underneath his deep tone. you peer up at him and he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose. “if my princess wants to feel more full, i’ll do just that. give her anything she wants.”

you whimper, feeling him hit such a sensitive angle, he hit it just right too.

the crown of his dick made its way through every crevice of your walls. he reached in spots that you didn’t think he’d reach — not at all, you failed to hide your moans by this point and he thought you sounded so cute. knowing he was the one to make you sound like this, feel this way, it made him happy. that’s all he wanted, your pleasure was his pleasure.

every. single. spot.

whilst your toes curled, you feel your back start to seemingly arch on its own before even more sweetened whimpers fly past your sheeny lips. “give m-me,” you started to speak. he raises a brow marginally, brushing a thumb against your lower lip before feeling himself about to bottom out. at that point, he was fully inside, you felt it and you only mewled out a candied, “give me another baby kento. please.”

“oh,” he softly murmurs, and his tongue playfully licks against your neck—a sweet lap, he savored your taste before teasingly starting to nibble.

“gonna give you triplets this time,” and he brings a hand down your chest, then towards your stomach, real slow. you moan once he gingerly lifts up your leg before giving your ankle a kiss. “this what you want, sweetheart? more of this? more of … me?”

“yes,” you pout, feeling your cunt just swallowing his hefty shack, his base smacks back and forth against you to where you’re almost giddy. you felt like you were on cloud nine, nanami’s strokes, his thrusts hell, his enticing rhythm had you nearly speechless. you let off a soft meek once the shivering cold metal of his watch band slithers against your skin.

the more he touched you, the more close you became to making yet another mess on him. of course, like the good husband he was, nanami would happily clean you up.

“y-yes, kento,” you repeat in a honeyed voice, by this point, your legs were well wrapped around his waist. fully having him in a secure lock, not ever thinking to let go, you couldn’t nor did you want to. he drove into your gummy walls so good that you let off the sugared most melodic moans right up against his earlobe. “want…..another baby.”

“i know you do,” he hushes, bringing a chaste kiss towards your collarbone. you swallow a thick imaginary lump that grew into your throat. only tiny squeaks would come out — you moaned, tightening your legs hold around him before you started to picture such fanciful things.

fanciful things like nanami pouring yet another a thick load into you, and as you’re deep in thought he’s doing just that. a gasp gets caught in his lips before he leans up close to you. his broad chest presses up against you before he groans. out of all the notorious enemies he’s had to fight, he was simply no match for your pussy. its grip had him being the one with his eyes nearly rolling back.

“f-fuck,” and you felt yourself throb, making direct eye contact with him. it was rare, yet hearing nanami swear was so infrequent.

it was the way he swore, spewing out such filthy words underneath his breath. long ruffled strands of messy hair nearly occluding his view of vision. he reaches to move some of his hair away from his face, just so he could get a good glimpse of you—a good glimpse of his wife.

“look at me,” he says in a soft tone, he was buried so deep within you, you saw how his muscles tensed and his jaw tightened. he made his hips come to a halt completely before he leans in to gift you with another kiss. “mwah,” he smooches near your jawline, “mwah,” near your chin, and a final kiss near your lips.

your heart, it fluttered.

nanami felt warm all over his body, as well as the sheer warmth that coated him from being inside you. “i—i love you,” you’d whine, feeling such massive velvet ropes of cum going all inside of you. he merely lets off a purr at the way the back of your heel skims down his back. “so much.”

“i love you,” he returns it. his mouth briefly opens, and he was about to say ‘more’ but he pauses. nanami’s weight was still hovering over you before he brings a same big hand down towards your tummy. “now, we wait. you’re such a good mommy for me, sweetheart.”

[s0dium]

Fucking a curse

Choso x F!Reader

A/n: This is part of my 'Sex' event and collab with other writers!! Please check out the other amazing works here

Synopsis: Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine a curse like Choso could give you the best orgasm of your life Warnings: Rough sex, intense orgasm

~ For a curse, Choso was strangely incredibly attractive. At least that was your first impression of him. His long black stringy hair, tied into two high ponytails that jutted upward and outward, and his small dark purple tired eyes, framed by slightly thin eyebrows, yes, from the moment you laid eyes on him you were smitten. But for someone so breathtaking, Choso's reserved nature served as a stark opposite to his striking appearance. He was fairly quiet, rarely speaking, and often seemed content to observe rather than participate. For a while, he barely seemed to acknowledge you outside of your relationship with Yuji and your crush on him looked painfully one-sided. As a curse, it was easy to assume that he didn't care about you, that your presence was just another detail in his world of silence and observation. it was only natural that you would assume he wanted nothing, or rather, knew, nothing about intimacy. So how... how did you get in this situation? "Hngh...." you whine. Everything was hot, too hot. You dizzily look up, breath catching as you see Choso face hovering above you. His dark brown hair clings to his sweat-dampened skin and his eyes gaze down upon you with such raw dirty need that you feel your stomach twist into knots and your pulse quicken.

You are about to say something, something about how hot you are when suddenly you feel Choso's cock head harshly plunge deep into your entrance, the tip pressing against a part of you that you could only dream about reaching with your fingers. The pleasure of the sudden intrusion is striking, numbing, and borderline painful. It makes you reel unconsciously reel back to escape the foreign feeling, but a large strong hand splays itself over your stomach, not only stopping you but applying delicious pressure above where his dick sat deeply in you. "Can't stay still can you?" Choso's voice comes out breathless, a failed attempt to mask how entirely aroused he is right now. He picks up the pace and leans down until his lips are against the nape of your neck. You whine when you feel soft kisses peppered all over your skin, a shockingly tender yet bold exploration; each nibble and kiss perfectly attuned to your responses, drawing you deeper into a state of blissful surrender. Your cunt flutters and clenches instinctively, sending even more bolts of hot ticklish pleasure to your core. You are too lost in the pleasure to notice that Choso had placed his hand under one of your thighs, lifting the leg until it's pressed against your chest. The new position allows him to go deeper, which you didn't even know was possible at this point.

"Ah- God, you feel like heaven Y/N" Choso groans and throws his head back. You could almost cum just by looking at Choso because god he looks almost ethereal as he thrusts into you. His pale skin glistens with sweat, each muscle in his abdomen tightening rhythmically with every thrust. His lips part slightly, revealing shallow, hurried breaths. The subtle bobbing of his Adam's apple accompanies each pant, his eyes tightly shut, lost in the throes of pleasure.

"I wannaaaa...." You can't even say the last word because you're afraid it might ruin how fucking euphoric you feel right now. If there was a heaven, being fucked by Choso was it. What was even happening right now? Where were you? You feel so much, you feel everything, everywhere, all in this moment, but your mind and your mouth have never been taught to name this sensation.

"Please, Jesus, please y/n do it." Hes almost whining at this point.

"Choso I'm-" You are not even able to finish the sentence because you are already climaxing on his dick. Choso's ministrations don't cease, in fact he speeds up, making the insanely euphoric wave of pleasure crash down on you even harder. Your mind is blank, your thighs are shaking and your back arches of the bed as Choso fucks you through the most pleasurable feeling you have ever experienced.

"Stay with me baby, we are not done yet."

[soul-controller]

My ideal body would be bigger, stronger and more mature. You know, the perfect things a daddy has.

The food court was abuzz with life, as families chatted over greasy trays of fast food and teenagers laughed too loudly in between loudly filming content for their social media. Meanwhile, you’re sitting alone at one of the tables – absentmindedly picking through a tray of half-eaten fries as your mind wanders and gaze drifts across the crowd. 

And then, you see him.

He stands in line at one of the busy vendors, a mountain of a man with a body thick with muscle, broad shoulders and biceps on full display due to his revealing tank top. His stubbled jaw is strong, giving him a rugged, mature look despite the hair not having a single hint of grey. Immediately, you could feel how his presence instantly commanded attention.

You swallow hard, your thoughts betraying you before you can reel them in. God, I wish I looked like that. If you had his confidence, his build, his effortless magnetism…dating would be a cakewalk compared to how it was now. No more awkward conversations, no more feeling invisible. Men would want you the way you want. You couldn’t imagine how many guys would easily fall under a man like that’s spell and submit to anything he desired…

The thought barely finishes before something strange happens.

The man suddenly stopped as he went up to give his order to the cashier. Mid-step, mid-action, as if a switch inside him was suddenly flipped. His head tilted slightly, like he’d heard something no one else could. Then, without warning, he turns. His dark eyes lock onto yours with a weight that leaves you trembling.

Your pulse stutters.

You look away, heat creeping up your neck. Shit, did he catch me staring? You brace for some kind of reaction – a glare, a sneer, maybe even some choice words about keeping your eyes off other men. But none of that happens.

Instead, he moves. He heads out of the line, walking through the crowded tables in the center of the food court… heading straight for you.

Your heart pounds harder with every step he takes. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t glance around, doesn’t slow. In seconds, he’s there, standing before you, so close that you can smell the faint spice of his cologne.

He stands there for a moment, as if waiting for you to make the first move. You don’t know what else to do besides stand up and offer up your table as a peace offering of some kind.

But just as you get up on your feet and prepare to speak, his large mitt of a hand suddenly reaches out for you. Instantly, you cower and prepare for some sort of aggression from the man. To your shock though, you feel his hand reach around the back of your skull, with his fingers threading through your messy light brown hair. 

Before you can react, before you can even think, he pulls you in. His lips crash against yours, warm and demanding, stealing the breath straight from your lungs.

The world around you blurs. There’s only the heat of his body, the pressure of his mouth, and the sheer intensity of the kiss on your mind. It’s possessive and sensual, almost as if he’s wanted this just as much as you have.

His kiss deepens, growing hungrier, more forceful. His lips move against yours with raw intensity, his stubble scratching at your skin as he tilts his head, taking you even deeper into it. You barely have time to breathe, barely have the space to think of anything but the feeling of him and his dominance.

Still unsure if you should touch himself yourself, your fingers curl into a fist as his grip around your head grows firmer. His stubble scrapes along your cheeks and upper lip, a sharp friction that burns in the best way. You chalk it up to the roughness of his face, a delicious sort of rug burn that only makes you more aware of him. But you don’t notice how the irritation doesn’t fade. How a faint, trimmed stubble of your own begins to emerge in response, spreading across your jawline as if mirroring his.

Then his teeth catch your bottom lip. 

Caught off-guard, you initially expect just a sharp nip from the man. As such, your body shivers as this action is then followed by a firm tug.

Pleasure twists through you, edged with just a hint of pain, but you don’t pull away. You lean in, chasing the heat of his mouth, even as he repeats the action several times across both lips. The area tingles beneath his touch, a light sting settling in followed by a strange sort of numbness. As you focus on the pleasurable yet shocking nature of what you’re experiencing, you don’t realize how your body continues to change. Your lips swell, with each kiss and bite reshaping them into something fuller, plumper, and certainly more kissable.

His fingers rake wildly through your hair, gripping and tugging as if he can’t get enough of you. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, your scalp prickling as the strands darken, deepening in color until they’re as jet black as the faint stubble shadowing your jaw.

Then his hands begin to roam.

Large, rough palms press against your arms, gliding down over your biceps. His touch is firm and greedy, as if your body was unclaimed land he wanted to claim for him and himself only. While he does this, the softness in your arms melts away, leaving behind lean defined muscle in his wake. The shift spreads through your chest, tightening and sculpting the area by replacing any hint of flab with toned strength.

He moves lower, hands gripping against your sides as his body leaned forward to press into your waist and hips. A strange weightlessness washes over you, your body subtly adjusting to its new weaker yet toned form. You don’t notice at first though, too lost in the way his mouth and tongue keeps invading yours. But when he suddenly leans down to reach you, angling his body in a way he hadn’t needed to before, something feels…different.

Somehow, you’re shorter now.

Not by much, but enough that the shift was noticeable – if you weren’t so intoxicated by the sight and affection of him.

Then he pulls back, just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes are dark, smoldering, filled with something unreadable yet immensely magnetic. Your heart pounds against your ribs as your breath remains unsteady. It felt weird to think about, but you couldn’t help but feel as though your entire body was thrumming with some sort of strange, electric energy.

His fingers trail along your jaw, tilting your chin up ever so slightly. His voice, deep and commanding, sends a shiver through your newly sculpted frame.

“Come with me.”

There’s no hesitation. No second thought.

Your body moves before your mind catches up, heart hammering, antsy and eager to do as he says.

You don’t think. You just follow.

Your legs move on instinct as the bulky man pulls you away from the food court. The world blurs around you – the people, voices, and mundane background of the mall all fading into irrelevance. There’s only him. The warmth of his touch as his thick fingers curl around your own. The quiet confidence in his stride as he pulls you through the corridor toward the men’s restroom and cuts off the father and son who were on the verge of entering the area first.

The moment you step inside, the door slams shut behind you – with him using your body to block anyone else from coming in. 

A rush of air leaves your lungs as your back meets the hard surface. His hands press firmly against the door on either side of you, caging you in. His eyes burn into yours, dark and intense, filled with something raw and undeniable.

“You didn’t think I’d catch you staring, huh?” he murmurs, voice rich and deep. A smirk tugs at the edge of his lips. “Luckily for you, you’re just what Daddy needs right now.”

The words send a shiver through you. A mix of anticipation and something else – pure elation. You’d never thought your days of people-watching and fantasizing would lead to something like this happening. It felt like something straight out of some sort of fanfic or movie!

You barely have time to explore those thoughts though as then, with a low grunt, his strong hands grab the collar of your shirt. You barely have time to react before the fabric gives way with a sharp, tearing sound. Your gasp turns into a startled moan as the cool air of the restroom washes over your pale exposed skin.

“Damn…” He exhales, raking his gaze over you, eyes drinking in every inch. “You’re so fucking hot. And so small. So weak… especially next to me.”

Something stirs in your gut at his words. Although this entire experience was hot as hell to you, there was a flutter of uncertainty.

In hopes of finding answers, you glance down at yourself.

The sight that greets you is…wrong.

Decent pecs. Toned abs. Not bulky, but clearly maintained. It doesn’t make sense. For a second, your mind struggles, an echo of something distant telling you this isn’t how you should look. But then, you decide to consult with your memories for answers. To your relief, you find several familiar ones.

Of course, you look like this. You go to the gym a few times a week, don’t you? Just enough to stay toned, to keep yourself fit, but never to bulk up too much. You loved nothing more than being a twunk – it was exactly what your favorite type of gay men, daddies, were looking for.

As a result, that unease you felt instantly fades, replaced by something closer to relief. Everything makes sense, there’s nothing strange going on at all.

Then his hands are on you again.

Thick fingers trail down your sides, gripping your waist before sliding lower. He grabs a handful of your ass, massaging, kneading, and then squeezing hard.

A sharp gasp leaves you. The pressure is intense, but so is the feeling. A strange sensation, like something swelling beneath his touch. As you awkwardly shift your legs as you feel your shorts growing tighter, your back is slowly being pushed away from the door as your ass fills out. With each second that this hot daddy enjoys playing with your ass, it continues to inflate into a perfect, perky shape. When you went to the gym, this was where the priority of your time was devoted – on developing the perfect ass that could satisfy any man with just how bouncy yet firm it was. You could recall countless encounters with men in the sauna – where they gleefully smacked your ass and grew mesmerized by the way the flesh rippled before sliding their cock in to fill you up with that potent dad nut.

Yet while you took a moment to embrace the changes occurring to you, the other man’s influence didn’t stop there.

Heat pulses through your groin, as your rock-hard, larger than average dick strained against its increasingly tighter confines. To your relief, one of the other man’s hands soon began to investigate the area, struggling for a moment before finally slipping his fingers down beneath the waistband of your shorts. 

An airy moan escaped your plump lips as the pain of your shorts stretching was traded out with relief from the man’s fingers touching the head of your manhood. As you tilted your head back and groaned in pleasure, you found that the man’s touch was making you all forget about the discomfort. Beneath the surface of the shorts though, the pressure was easing not from the man’s touch but from the way your bulge was shrinking and compacting yet remaining rock hard. In an instant, the man’s touch had converted your surprisingly girthly 7” cock to a measly pencil-thin 3.5” nub. To your euphoric mind though, the shift felt completely natural. After all, you were notoriously known as one of the biggest bottoms in the entire state. What good was a fat cock for when you wanted nothing more than to be on the receiving end?

As your body was reaching new levels of pleasure, your legs found themselves tingling and growing incredibly weak. With this strange weightlessness overtaking them, you relied on the other man to keep you upright as he pushed his body closer to you so your legs could grow leaner and provide a steady base to handle such a fat ass. Once again, another burst of shrinking occurred as your legs shortened and caused your stature to shrink down to an adorable 5”6”. By now, the change was undeniable. Besides your face, you were an entirely new person.

Your breath stutters, head swimming. You feel off, but at the same time whole. Like you’re falling into the right shape, the right body and life.

Then his lips graze your ear.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, voice thick with hunger. “The love of my life. I’ve never enjoyed topping anyone as much as I do you.”

A shiver races down your spine, but not from fear. From something deeper. Something familiar.

Then, your body found itself shivering out of control as the man’s gruff voice began speaking Spanish.

You don’t know the words. Or at least—you shouldn’t. You never took Spanish in school and you’ve never experienced the culture besides the occasional song recommendation on Spotify. Yet, the more he speaks, the more you understand.

You pieced together him discussing how unreal this all feels. How he couldn’t believe this was happening. How you’re not resisting at all. And then, softer, more reverent—

“How can you be so perfect? So beautiful? Just like a dream come to life…”

The fully comprehended words sink into you. Into your skin, your bones.

Instantly, a warmth spreads over your body – a golden hue that works with haste in deepening your complexion. You turned to face away from the man for a moment, finding yourself catching a hint of your reflection in the bathroom mirror. You moaned as you found your skin growing darker and richer. 

As your daddy, your partner for the past five years, hoisted up your arms and pinned them against his with his immense strength, you looked down and witnessed how your body hair thickened slightly while darkening to match your jet-black hair. Another rippling effect soon coursed through your body – causing any body hair along your chest, back, and legs to fade away until you were left completely smooth besides your armpits and crotch.

With one final glance, you looked into the mirror – gasping as you found that the face in the mirror had also slightly changed since the last time you saw yourself. Your nose had widened a bit and grown more prominent on your face, while your eyebrows grown thicker yet well-maintained and groomed. Your eye shape had altered a little, but the most noticeable change in that area was how your hazel eyes had darkened to an alluring dark brown.

Without a doubt, the new visage that you saw was one that was undeniably Latino. Although one last vestige of your old self suddenly spoke up in hopes of not wanting to completely lose yourself, it didn’t take much completely for you to give in. Everything that had happened to you, it just felt… right. 

The last pieces of your past self slip away, forgotten beneath the weight of the new body and life.

As you looked towards your man, your thoughts grew cluttered as you lusted for the feeling of his cock in your ass once more. Although your history and memories still felt a bit cloudy, there was luckily one thing you knew for sure at this moment. You belonged to him.

Ever since you met him at your gym one day and eagerly worshipped his ripe pits after a particularly grueling workout, you became his favorite amongst the large slew of boys across the country he had previously accumulated. There was no one else who was better for him than you, almost as if you were personally created just for him… just Daddy’s perfect boytoy to flaunt on his OnlyFans and showcase just how much of a dominant alpha he could be. 

On some nights, you’d have strange dreams where you imagined yourself with the roles reversed where you were the dominant aggressive type. But as soon as you’d wake up and see your hunky daddy loudly snoring next to you, you knew that was just a strange fantasy. 

You wouldn’t want it any other way...

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[honeywyrdie]

Yule Be Mine

Changbin x fem Reader

summary: you're bringing Changbin home for the holidays for a big family dinner, but you have a fun little stocking surprise to give him. /// word count: 9.9k /// genre: smut, fluff /// warnings: thigh kink, oral sex (f receiving), teasing in public, spanking, overstimulation, a little breath play (chokehold), piv, unprotected sex, a little dacryphilia /// a/n: I had a crummy Thanksgiving and wanted to write something both sweet and hot about my fave muscle boy. Love a holiday feast, in more ways than one.

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I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

18+ content beyond the cut MDNI!

“Are you nervous?” you ask, hooking your earring in place, the final touch to your holiday outfit. 

Changbin appears behind you in the standing mirror, sliding one hand around your middle. His fingers toy with the belt buckle sitting on the waist of your dark green sweater dress. 

“Nervous about meeting your whole family? Nah, they’ll love me.” he says, sweeping your hair out of the way to press a kiss on the spot right behind your ear. “Your parents are already head over heels for me. Can’t wait to be the Fun Uncle for all your baby cousins.”

You grin as his eyes trail over the outline of your form, the softness of your body has him wetting his bottom lip. His gaze travels down to your sheer dark stockings, his big brown eyes mesmerized by you. You know how much he loves to see you in different kinds of hosiery, your thick thighs wrapped up like a gift for him to tear into. You grab his hand and spin around into his embrace.

“Good,” you mutter as your lips meet for a sweet, chaste kiss. You’re giddy with the little secret you’re going to surprise him with later. “Let’s get the show on the road.”

He’s the perfect gentleman as you start your journey, opening the door and offering you a hand as you slide into the car. Changbin’s cologne fills the interior, a warm spiced scent with a base of cedar that makes your head spin in the most delicious kind of way. You have half a mind to put off going to this grand holiday dinner, imagining how nice it would be to spend the evening in bed with the man beside you. Heat pools between your thighs, you rub them together to relieve some of the ache that settles there. 

But, you made a promise to your family, a nervous excitement churning in your belly at the thought of everyone meeting him. It helps distract from the hunger that simmers inside you. Holidays are big and important for your whole clan, so it means a lot that he’s feeling confident about your relationship to come with you.

  It’s about an hour drive to your destination, the cozy little home your parents have outside the city. Changbin can’t seem to keep his eyes on the road.

“Have I told you how lovely you look tonight?” he says, smirking as he tries not to ogle you in the car. 

“You could always stand to tell me more often,” you tease. 

“Well, then let me tell you now,” he says. “You look beautiful in anything, but I am a big fan of what you have on tonight.”

He takes one hand off the wheel and places it on your thigh, kneading your skin softly. You can feel the strength he’s holding back at this simple touch. The rest of the ride, he keeps his hand there as often as he can. 

Gravel crunches under the tires as you drive up the lane to your parents house. The temperature outside has dropped, the air heavy with the threat of snow, so the warm glow of the home looks so inviting. He parks next to the other cars that line the driveway, unclipping his seatbelt and moving to get out of the car.

“Wait,” you say, grabbing his arm. You place his hand back on your thigh. “I have a little surprise for you.”

He raises his eyebrows with a quizzical look. “What surprise, love?”

You slowly begin to slide his hand up your leg, pushing the hem of your dress up. As you let go of his hand, he pauses and looks at you, silently asking permission to continue. You bite your lip and nod. His hand moves, following the path up your thigh, taking his time to really get the soft feeling of your stockings under his finger tips.

He gasps as he feels the edge of your stockings stop almost at the apex between your legs.

“Love…” he murmurs. “Are you wearing thigh highs?”

You giggle as he hooks one finger under the edge of fabric, pulling it away from your skin. There’s a small indentation where the stretchy fabric bites into the plush of your thighs. You squeeze your legs together, seeking any sort of friction as your clit throbs from his touch. Changbin’s breath shudders as he grips onto your soft skin, digging his nails in slightly.

“You are such a fucking tease,” he huffs out, smiling with gritted teeth. “How am I supposed to meet your family when all I’m going to be thinking about is your thighs wrapped around my head in these?”

“I guess you’ll have to figure that out,” you say, cheekily. 

He releases your thigh, his hand coming up to grip your chin, pulling you in for a kiss. It’s like a sun burst, so much heat and energy radiating out of him in such a small amount of time as your lips clash. He nips at your bottom lip, pulling a small whimper out of you.

“You won’t get away with this,” he whispers against your lips playfully. “Just you wait.”

The giggle that escapes you does nothing to offset the spark of arousal that is building between the two of you. You would fuck him right here in the car if you didn’t think that anyone would catch you.

He gets out of the car and comes around to your door, helping you out and pulling you into his arms once more. Just then, the front door bursts open and your mother stands in the doorway.

“Y/n! You made it!” She waves you two over. “I was worried about the weather for you two.”

Changbin’s hand never leaves the small of your back as you both walk towards the front porch, sparkling with the string of holiday lights blinking in rhythm. Your mother pulls you into a hug, kissing your temple. “Dinner is supposed to start in about a half hour, but we’ll see how that goes with your father in the kitchen.”

She turns to Changbin, her eyes widening at his attire. His outfit is casual but pressed and neat. He had everything tailored exactly to fit his wide shoulders and thick muscles. His thighs, arms, and chest all strain against the fabric slightly, subtly showing off the strength he has worked so hard for.  He made sure to coordinate with you, so there’s a small pocket square in his jacket pocket that matches the exact color of your dress. 

“Changbin!” she exclaims. “I’m so glad you made it! I’ve been telling everyone about the handsome young man Y/n is bringing tonight.”

“Well I hope to live up to all their handsome expectations,” he says, grinning at you before your mom pulls him into an affectionate hug. 

“Of course,” she replies, patting his shoulders. “Everyone will love you!”

She ushers the two of you into the house. The house smells like apples and spice. There’s a crackling fire dancing in the hearth. The scent of dinner wafts occasionally through the room. Your aunts and uncles and cousins are all there, sitting around the fire, the din of conversation filling the space as their bodies sink comfortably into the couches and chairs. You can hear your younger cousins running through the house, playing as they stampede through the different rooms.

The size of your family can be daunting, but there’s no hint of anxiety on Changbin’s face as you introduce him to everyone in the room. He makes his rounds, shaking hands, hugging, kissing the occasional cheek in greeting - he’s a natural. You feel yourself flush with pride at the sense of ease he has, turning on the charm.

“Does someone have an extra pair of hands to help in the kitchen for a minute?” Your dad hollers into the living room. Changbin is the first to respond, dragging you into the kitchen. After a warm greeting and a firm handshake, your dad piles plates, utensils, and napkins in your arms to set the table. As you move around the huge dinner table, Changbin catches your eye with a smirk. You’re alone for a moment in this room. He swoops down, gathering you up in his arms suddenly and kisses along your cheekbone.

“Ewwww!” One of your baby cousins shouts when he rounds the corner and catches you and Changbin in the middle of a sweet moment. “They’re KISSING in here!”

Laughter booms from the other room. The comfortable atmosphere and domestic care Changbin is showing you tonight is hitting you especially hard tonight. Your heart races a little as your feelings for him swell, woven together with lust. 

You love him. 

You want him. 

“Dinner’s ready!” your dad yells, startling the two of you out of your moment. His cheeks rosy with exertion and his little festive apron smudged with gravy.

Everyone shuffles in slowly as your mom and dad bring in dish after dish, filling every square inch of the table until it’s packed with potatoes, meat, hot dishes, and multiple gravy boats. The feast is gigantic, the table itself nearly groaning under the weight of all the food. 

You and Changbin take your seats near the end of the table, scooting as close together as you can so your legs sit flush against one another. The way your skin lights up at the smallest touches from him makes you feel dizzy. Everytime you hand him a new dish to pile onto his plate, he makes sure that his fingers brush over yours, lingering a little longer than normal. You’ve been together for just about a year now and he still knows how to make you blush like you just started dating.

Wine bottles get passed around, poured into vintage stem glasses. You take a small glass of one of the reds to sip on. It’s not like you need any alcohol to loosen you up, you already feel drunk off the warmth radiating from the man sitting next to you. 

Once everyone at the table has a plate, Changbin takes a bite. His contented groan fills the room. 

“Compliments to the chef!” he says after a few moments, raising his fork up as if to toast your dad across the room. “Y/n, have you tried the turkey yet?”

“Not yet, I’m still working on all my sides first,” you giggle.

“You have to have a bite right now,” he says, cutting off a small piece and holding up the fork to your mouth. As you open your mouth, his gaze drops to your lips as he feeds you the piece of meat and pulls the fork from between your lips slowly. His eyes darken, following your every move, clenching his jaw to keep his face neutral. That spark between you flickers again as you imagine something else he could slide between your lips. Changbin’s pupils flare in the low light of the dining room. 

The meal slows until the plates are practically licked clean. Everyone is in a serene stupor, sipping on drinks as conversations overlap at the table. No one is really paying attention to the two of you. 

Changbin shifts his body to face you, and decides to give you a little surprise of his own.

His hand finds your thigh again, trailing his fingertips around the inside of your knee. You shift a little, the light brush of his fingers almost ticklish. Following a similar path up your inner thigh, he traces over the fabric of your stockings, pushing the hem of your dress up slowly the higher his hand climbs. 

This is so wrong to get so turned on while surrounded by your family, but you don’t want him to stop. He finds the edge of your thigh highs again, dragging his nails lightly over the sensitive skin that peeks out above the elastic of your stockings. You wiggle your hips and clear your throat, trying to play it off like he has no effect on you. 

You hear Changbin inhale sharply as his fingers ghost over the sheer lace of your barely-there panties. You shoot him a bratty little grin, knowing how much his teeth must ache to rip them off. You pick up your wine glass and take a sip, pointedly ignoring his gaze as he continues to move his fingers against your most intimate spot. The thrill of doing something so dirty at the dinner table, possibly getting caught, heightens the feeling of every little touch.

He can feel the heat coming off of your skin, a damp spot of arousal already seeping through the lace of your panties. He casually shifts your panties to the side, pressing one finger gently but insistently between your folds, feeling how wet you are. You have to control the need to roll your hips into his hand, your legs quiver with effort. As his fingers massage through your folds, you lift the wine glass to your lips again, trying to hide the small moan that tries to leave your lips.

He finds your clit and gives it a light tap with his finger.

Your body jolts as you splutter into your wine glass as electricity shoots through your core and up your spine. You cough, having inhaled some of your wine, as every head at the table turns towards you suddenly. 

Changbin’s hand was out from between your legs in less than a heartbeat, moved with lightning speed to your back where he gently rubs a comforting circle between your shoulder blades. He leans towards you, a look of fake concern painted on his face - as if he wasn’t the one pulling your strings, trying to unravel you at the dinner table.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Your mother calls from the other end of the table.

“Yeah, Y/n,” Changbin’s brow knits together with worry. But you see it. There’s a sneaky little glint in his eye, knowing that he got you back for teasing him in the car earlier. “Is something wrong?”

“Wrong pipe,” your voice creaks out between coughs. Your eyes water as you cough, but you give everyone a thumbs up to let them know you’re okay. You move to stand up from your seat. “I’ll be back in a bit!”

As you head towards the bathroom down the hall, the conversation at the table goes back to the volume it was before you made everyone stare at you. When you get to the small bathroom, you shakily close the door and lock it. The pulse of lust coursing through you is intense judging by the slick feeling between your legs. You lean your hands on the bathroom counter and look in the mirror. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes dilated, and your skin has a feverish glow to it. You haven’t been this turned on in a while. 

As you weigh the pros and cons of getting yourself off in the bathroom to calm your nerves before returning to the table, there’s a small knock at the door. You practically jump out of your skin.

“Y/n? It’s just me,” Changbin’s voice calls from the other side. “I told everyone I was coming to check on you.”

“I’m okay, Binnie,” you call out, a slight waver in your voice. 

“Can I come in?”

You walk over to the locked door and open it. Changbin slides into the space with you, closing the door behind him quietly.

He wrings his hands, a little line of actual worry appearing between his brows. “Hey I just wanted to check that I didn’t overstep, that wasn’t really something we talked about bef-”

His words get caught in his throat as you pull him in by the collar and slant your lips over his. Pressing as much of your body against his, needing his touch more than anything in the world. His arms wind their way around your body, squeezing you tightly with his strong grip. Your tongues tangle as he moans into your mouth, letting you lead the way for a bit.

One of your hands snakes behind his head, threading your fingers into his hair to tug on. As you pull, his mouth detaches from yours.

“Fuck,” he hisses. His eyes flutter shut at the tension you hold his head with, cradling his skull in your hand. You marvel at the beautiful planes of his face for a second, the subtle flush rising to his cheeks, jaw slackened at the feeling, before you attach your lips to his neck.

“No marks tonight,” he whispers hurriedly. “We still have to - nnnnnngh-”

Instead of sucking onto his sensitive skin below his ear, you opt to scrape your teeth on it, feeling his knees buckle slightly at the sensation. His hands grip into your dress more harshly now, walking you back towards the edge of the sink. The back of your thighs meet the cold tile of the counter, knocking you slightly off balance. 

Changbin takes this opportunity to lean your body back slightly, looming over you with his wide shoulders as he moves to stand in between your legs. He captures your lips with his again, searing you with his kiss. Your hands grab at whatever parts of him are nearest to touch, needing him closer. You can feel his cock hardening already as he presses his pelvis against yours. Hips rolling into his automatically, you are practically ready to fuck yourself on his clothed cock if necessary.

“Binnie, please, I need-” 

“What do you need, hm? Tell Binnie what you need.” His voice is husky with a playful tinge of teasing. He rocks his hips into yours in one harsh move.

All you can do is moan. Changbin claps a hand over your mouth as your eyes roll back. 

“Shhhh, love,” he whispers through a smirk. “Everyone will hear us. Those noises are only for me, understand?”

You nod your head against his hand, kiss into his palm as best you can. He releases your mouth and pulls your face towards his again, pressing an achingly sweet kiss on your lips.

“I know what my baby needs,” he murmurs. “Are you sure you can stay quiet?”

“Mm-mhmm,” is all you can say. 

He drops down to his knees, running his hands up your legs, marveling at the smooth, sheer fabric of the stockings once more. You lean your weight back onto the tile counter, looking down at Changbin worshiping at your feet. He pulls one leg up, kissing you on the inside of your ankle and rubs his cheek on the smooth stockings.

“These are going to be the death of me,” he murmurs as he trails kisses as he moves up, stopping every few inches to admire your legs. He pushes up your dress a little as he gets to the top of your stockings on your thigh, pressing a kiss right where the fabric meets your skin. His teeth find the edge of the sheer elastic and pull it away from your leg, looking up at you from below. 

The image of his dark eyes awash with arousal holding your stockings between his teeth burns itself into your memory. You place one hand on his head, threading your fingers into his hair and lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. 

He groans at the sensation, eyes rolling back as he lets the elastic snap back harshly onto your skin. A little yelp leaves your throat, turning into more of a whimper as his mouth attaches to your inner thigh and sucks an angry red mark into the sensitive skin. You can feel more arousal seep out of your lace panties.

“I thought we said no marks,” you pant out as he continues littering the inside of your thighs with blooming red marks. He’s so close to where you need him most. Every time he gets close to your pussy, you can feel yourself clench - only to be passed over, biting at the plush flesh of your thighs. 

“No one will be looking for them here, love,” he says, pausing to admire his artwork. “These are for me.”

His eyes fall onto the garment clinging to your skin with how wet they are. He leans down and slowly presses a kiss right on your cloth covered cunt. You shudder in his grasp, held steady by his hands. He picks up the edge of your panties with his tongue, pulling the lace between his teeth. With one deft move with his hand, he roughly twists the thin fabric and rips your panties to shreds. You gasp at the tug of his strong hands, melting into his touch.

The cold air hits your wet skin, and you feel your clit throb. Changbin puts the shredded remnants of your panties in his pocket, knowing how much he loves to keep little trophies like this. He pushes the hem of your dress up to your hips, leaving a small kiss on each side of your hips. He’s obsessed with your legs and hips, loving the size of them, the soft flesh yielding to his control, as if his hands are the chisel that sculpts your body. 

The width of his shoulders pushes your legs open as he leans closer, hovering millimeters away from your cunt, his breath ghosting over your skin. 

“Bin, pleas-” but your plea turns into a sharp gasp as he finally descends, kissing your clit with his perfect, plump lips. His eyes close as he savors your taste. He feels like he’s at home here, between your thighs is exactly where he needs to be. 

You cover your own mouth with your hand to stifle a moan as Changbin’s soft tongue caresses against your clit. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. You feel like you’re teetering on the edge, but he holds you back with the slow pace, savoring the way your hips shiver with each lick.

Changbin pulls his mouth off you for a split second, running his tongue further down to your entrance. His nose brushes through your folds and bumps against your clit. You let out a muffled keen into the palm of your hand, eyes rolling back. 

You can’t help yourself, you begin rutting against his face, pushing his nose into you further. You look down, finding his gaze burning into you from below, eyes crinkling in amusement at your desperation. He pulls away from your body for a moment with a grin.

“Someone is so needy tonight,” he says, the entire lower half of his face shining with the combination of his saliva and your essence. You whine at the loss, but Changbin has other plans.

He hoists both of your thighs over his shoulders, bracing your weight against him while his arms wrap around your legs securely. He is strong in ways you could never imagine, holding you up while he moves to lap at your cunt again. Faster and faster, like a starved man having his first meal in weeks, his fingers leaving little indents in your skin as his movements get more feral. The familiar feeling of hot electricity builds in your pelvis, your muscles clenching around nothing as you prepare to fall off the face of the earth. 

His tongue barrages your clit, little whimpers trying to escape as you slam your eyes shut. Drool gathers between the fingers that clamp over your mouth, making your palm slippery. The other hand flails wildly, looking for something to grab hold. You find his head, fingers tangling into his fluffy hair harshly. 

You feel him groan, the sound reverberating through your center. At that, he pulls your clit into the heat of his mouth, sucking hard as his tongue doesn’t stop moving, bullying the sensitive bundle of nerves.

There’s no sound at first as your orgasm crashes over you, your muscles fluttering and your eyes rolling back. You forget to breathe, floating between layers of consciousness, as your erratic heartbeat matches the rhythm of your clenching muscles. Both of your hands are in his hair now as you writhe against his face. He’s the one thing keeping you from collapsing as you feel your soul leave your body. You swallow down the moan that he pulls from your throat, trying to keep quiet still. 

Even as you start to come down off your high, he keeps going, your clit taking on a painful sensitivity. Each flick of his tongue jolts up your spine, your gasps shuddering out of you as you find your lungs again. You try pushing on his head to no avail, he’s got you pinned, overstimulating you as you jerk your hips to try and get away from the friction. 

Finally, he pulls off of you with a smile, the lower half of his face drenched. He helps set your legs down onto the ground, wobbling like a newborn deer. Right before he releases you, he plants one more featherlight kiss to your clit, the shock of it buckles your knees as you collapse into his arms. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, pressing kisses into your hair. “Binnie’s got you.”

You whine, your throat raspy, as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. His arms encircle you, shifting your weight so he can sit and lean back against the wall with you on his lap, wrapped around him. He rubs soothing circles into your back, bringing you back down to earth and into your body. 

“That good, huh?” once he feels you begin to stir, planting little exhausted kisses into the side of his neck. 

All you can manage is a quiet “Mmm,” in agreement.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmurs into your hair. “We have a dinner to get back to.”

Your eyes shoot open, jolting up suddenly.

“Oh my god! Everyone is still waiting for us!” you jump up to your feet, your thighs still quivering. Changbin just giggles, following your lead. He helps you get cleaned up, smoothing your wild hair, making sure your dress looks neat. You look presentable, the only evidence giving you away is that your lips are a little swollen and your eyes are brighter than before.

“Ready to get back out there?” you say, turning to Changbin.

“Well…” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not yet. You head back out there first. I’ll follow you in a few minutes.”

You give him a curious look, he gives you a sheepish smile as he points down. He’s hard, his cock straining against his slacks in an extremely noticeable way. Your eyes bug out.

“I didn’t even think about that! Let me help,” you say, reaching for his belt. He snatches your wrist, bringing your hand to his lips and kisses your palm.

“No, love,” he smiles. “I’m going to splash some water on my face and calm down. Don’t worry about me, you can help me later.”

His eyes darken for a moment as he smirks. Even though he just fucked you with his mouth until you nearly passed out, you feel a small thrill shoot up your spine again. Pulling him in for another small kiss, you nod. You smooth your dress as you exit, looking over your shoulder to see Changbin smiling, his bottom lip between his teeth. It makes you blush. Even after a year, seeing all the love and adoration in his eyes gives you butterflies.

~~~

As you shut the door behind you, Changbin feels his heart swell in his chest. He can’t get enough of you, it squeezes his ribs like a vice. Getting you to cum on his tongue over and over was one of the highlights of his life. He could live between your thighs, wrapping around his head, smothering him until all that surrounds him is you. 

Tonight was only slightly different. As he dropped to his knees, he thought about getting on one knee instead. He wants you forever. You’re just lucky he doesn’t keep the ring on him or else he would’ve proposed over a dozen times at this point. You deserve something more planned out and special.

Changbin turns to the mirror, fixing his hair and readjusting himself so his erection is less noticeable. The torn remnants of your lace panties burn a hole in his pocket. He wants to clench them in his fist and bring them to his nose, but he can’t. He knows it’ll just make him harder, the thought alone making him twitch against the fabric of his slacks. He has to ground himself, he’s still in your family home. You’re waiting for him out there. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself.

As he breathes, he still has the hint of your essence on his face. He would wear it like a fragrance if he could. He’s going to marry you one day, he knows it. The way his chest aches with the feeling, it gives him something to distract the way his cock throbs. Even though Changbin wants forever with you to begin now, he can be patient. If anyone is an expert on delaying gratification, it’s Changbin. Good things come to those who wait.

Once he feels like he’s calm enough, he heads back out to the dining room to join you. 

~~~

You walk back to the dining room, practically floating your way there. 

“Y/n, you’re back! Are you feeling okay?” your dad says as you sit back down at the table. You’re acutely aware of how bare you are under your dress without your panties, feeling very exposed. 

“Hmm? Oh… yeah, I’m okay,” you say.

“Where’s Changbin?”

“He’s probably in the bathroom. He… brought me my inhaler. The coughing, y’know, made my asthma flare,” you lie.

“That’s probably why you’re all red still,” your mom comments. You feel your cheeks burn brighter. Just how fucked out do you still look?

“I bet they were kissing in there!” your baby cousin announces. Everyone in the room gives a theatrical gasp before chuckling at her comment. Your eyes widen. Did anyone hear you?

“Only on the cheek, I promise,” Changbin says, sidling into the room again. He sits down next to you, grabbing your hand to kiss your knuckles. The way he has charmed everyone is so effortless. He looks so normal, blending right back in with the dinner atmosphere. In the mere hours you’ve been surrounded by company, he’s got your family wrapped around his finger. 

Dessert gets served, there are so many different kinds of sweets to choose from. Holidays with your family are never short of sugary baked goods. Changbin spends half of his time feeding you little bits of everything, making sure you don’t miss out on any flavors. 

Every once in a while, he’ll purposefully make a small mess on your lip so he can wipe it off with his thumb, so he can bring it to his mouth to lick it clean. Changbin has a way of mixing gentle caring with hot temptation that pushes all of your buttons in the best ways. The teasing goes on and on, you feel yourself squeezing your legs together again. The sensation of getting wet with no panties on makes you feel so dirty but so, so ready for him. You are going to absolutely ruin this man when you get back home. 

Everyone is full to the brim, sipping on hot drinks while the contented drowsiness of a good meal wafts around the room. Changbin has his arm slung around the back of your chair, pressing as close as he is able to in polite company. When he laughs, you feel his breath move your hair. When he chats with your aunts and uncles about his job, you feel his voice rumble through you. You put your hand on his knee, tenderly rubbing your thumb across the thick muscle. Everything feels absolutely perfect in this moment. 

Your mom comes into the room again. 

“Bad news, guys. It’s snowing. The forecast for this evening doesn't look good, we’re supposed to be getting a few inches tonight.”

Everyone groans, starting to murmur about what they’re going to do. You and a few others in your family get up and dash over to the window. Sure enough, fluffy white flakes piled together like cotton balls are floating down steadily from the sky. The string lights are barely visible anymore, little glowing spots under a thin layer of snow.

Your mom claps her hands together.

“But! We’ve got enough room and tons of blankets, so everyone is staying put,” she announces. “The local guy with the big snow plow will come out sometime tomorrow morning, so you’ll be able to leave then.”

Damn your luck. How are you supposed to fuck Changbin until both of you can’t walk if you’re stuck in a house with your huge family. The slick feeling between your thighs begs for attention, frustration building up inside you at the news you’ll be spending the night. But there’s nothing you can do about it now, your mom isn’t going to let anyone leave this house tonight. 

You sigh as you stand up, Changbin close behind.

“Come on, let’s go help with pillows and blankets,” you say, grabbing his hand to lead him to the linen closet. 

There you find all the air mattresses, sheets, pillows, and blankets that your parents keep for such an occasion. Once the guest rooms are full, everyone else will be on the floor, but they will be comfortable. Grabbing a huge stack, you both walk towards the living room to set everyone up.

Your dad pulls you aside.

“Y/n, we still have your old room set up. Normally we wouldn’t allow this, but since we’re pretty full of people, you and Changbin can both stay in there,” he says.

“But no funny business!” your mom says, jokingly ribbing at Changbin. Your jaw drops.

“Mom!” You can’t believe what she’s implying. 

“I will be the perfect gentleman,” he says, raising his hand. “Scouts honor. I’ll even sleep on the floor.”

Both of your parents nod, his word is satisfactory - how could it not be? Changbin has been nothing but kind, attentive, and practically perfect all evening. They obviously don’t know about what happened in the bathroom earlier, and they never will. 

~~~

Leading Changbin to your childhood room feels so strange. Your parents converted it long ago into another guest bedroom, but there are still remnants of your time here. There are little lines to measure your height at different ages on the door frame, photos of you from when you were younger on the walls, and all the things you left in your parents home stored in plastic bins in the closet. Changbin smiles when he sees the measurements, looking at the ages written on each one.

He sets down the stack of blankets and pillows he had in his hand to build himself a floor bed. It would make the room a bit snug, butting up right next to your childhood twin bed. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says, “I have to grab something from the car.”

You shrug as he trots away, unfolding the thick blankets to make him a little spot to sleep. After laying the blankets flat, layering them on top of one another, you get on your hands and knees to smooth out the corners for comfort. In this position, you feel the cold air on the backs of your thighs. Awareness of your lack of panties and arousal are very apparent, bringing a small blush to your face. 

“Now that’s a sight I’ll never get tired of,” Changbin’s voice murmurs from behind you suddenly. You gasp, startled by his silent return. He comes up behind you, throwing his gym bag onto your bed, the springs of the mattress squeaking as it bounces slightly.

“What’d you grab from the car?” you ask as he comes up behind you, leaning down to smooth his palm over the swell of your ass. 

“I always keep an extra pair of clothes in my gym bag, so we have something to change into,” he murmurs, focusing solely on palming your ass for a moment. He stands up suddenly, going over to the gym back and unzipping it. He tosses you a black shirt. “Something comfy to sleep in.”

In truth, Changbin just loved seeing you wear his clothes. He loved seeing how they fit your body, knowing you’re going to smell like him. It’s a subtle possessiveness, one that always makes you weak in the knees. He pulls out a pair of workout shorts for himself and begins ridding himself of his tidy dinner clothes. 

As he unbuttons his shirt, you stop to ogle him. The shape of him never fails to leave you speechless - wide shoulders, thick arms, a layer of comfort on top of pure strength - it makes every part of him something you want to grab onto. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thighs as he takes off his slacks. His thigh muscles are so inviting, framed by the pair of black boxer briefs he has on. You feel that rush of heat settle deep in your pelvis again. Maybe Changbin isn’t the only one with a thing for thighs.

He smirks, a little sideways smile, when he catches you staring at him. 

“Now, I don’t remember agreeing to be the only one who’s undressed,” he says, sauntering towards you in just his boxer briefs, abandoning the shorts on the floor. One finger finds your belt buckle, dragging you towards his body. He unclips the buckle, dropping the belt to the floor. His hands find your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress up again. Goosebumps spread on your skin as he grabs the fabric, bunching it up on your waist, looking at you bared for him. 

Changbin lets out a shuddering breath. In the muted incandescent light of your old bedroom, your skin glows. He quickly pulls the dress over your head. You nearly lose your balance with how fast he tries to undress you, stumbling into him with a giggle. 

“I’ve got you!” he chuckles. You’re just in your bra and stockings now, with Changbin’s arms wrapped around you, pressing a kiss against your temple. 

For a moment, you just look at one another, matching grins on your face. You’ve never had someone make you feel so secure in their love and care of you. When Changbin takes control, you know you have someone who has your best interest at heart as you surrender. He lets you direct him, providing you with his strength in whatever way makes you feel the best.

Both your faces gravitate toward one another, meeting for an achingly sweet kiss. There’s no rushing, exploring one another as if it’s the first time every time. His fingers slide up your body, softly gripping the back of your neck. You pull back slightly, watching his eyes flutter as he leans towards you to chase your kiss. Your lips brush against his tenderly before they travel across his cheek towards his ear. His arms drop to your sides as he pulls you in closer with a whine. Your teeth nip at his earlobe, lightly pulling on his small hoop earring. His ears are so sensitive, his knees buckle at the feeling of your tongue tracing the shell of his ear. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, knowing your skin will be littered with tiny bruises tomorrow.

Your tongue finds the spot just beneath his ear on his neck, feeling his hips buck into yours at the sensation. Another whine spills from his mouth.

“Now who’s the one that has to be quiet?” you whisper against his neck, pressing a hand against his mouth. “Do you want everyone to know what we’re doing?”

Changbin shakes his head, his arms squeezing you tighter. 

“Then be a good boy and be quiet,” you mutter, smiling against his neck. He moans, muffled by your hand. You press two fingers against his lips and he sucks them greedily, showing you exactly what he wants to do to other parts of you. His hands skim over your back, landing on where your bra hooks together. 

“Do not rip this one,” you say, your tone laced with warning. “This was expensive.”

He huffs out a laugh with your fingers still in the wet heat of his mouth. His fingers are nimble, carefully unhooking the clasp. Your breasts spill out of the cups as he pulls it off of you, palming them as soon as he tosses the garment across the room. His hands are so warm as they massage into your skin. Every touch is electric, especially when his thumbs graze over your nipples. 

You pop your fingers out of Changbin’smouth, dragging them down his chest, leaving a wet trail of his drool on his skin. The tip of your index finger finds his nipple and you feel his body tremble. His hands drop to your hips again, pushing gently as he walks you backwards towards your bed. The backs of your knees find the mattress and you slump down, sitting on the bed. The old springs and bed frame squeak and groan as your body bounces on the bed, echoing into the quiet night. You both cringe at the sound, giggling.

“The bed will give us away,” Changbin says, shaking his head. He smacks the top of the mattress as if reprimanding it. “Snitch.”

“So you’ll spank the mattress but not me?” you say, gasping in mock horror. “Cheat!”

Changbin smirks as his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, seeing where this is going. He kneels onto the floor between your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulls you down towards him. You flail about, squirming away from him, pretending to wrestle out of his grip. He’s like a mountain, unmovable, holding you securely while you wiggle around. 

“You want to get spanked but won’t stop moving?” he chuckles, flipping you over so you lay across his lap with your ass up. “Brat!”

The first swat is light and sudden, right where your thigh meets your cheek. You yelp from the shock of it, more giggles bubbling up. You wiggle your ass from side to side to taunt him, silently begging for more. His hands roam the sensitive skin of your ass and thighs, grabbing and massaging. Your hips quake under his touch, whimpering at his unhurried movements.

“Bin, please,” you pout, pushing back against his hand. 

“No, you started this, my love. I’ll be the one to finish it,” he says, pinching you on the back of the thigh.

“Hey!”

“You said you wanted to help me earlier,” Changbin murmurs, hooking two fingers under the elastic of your stockings. He tugs on the stretchy fabric, pulling it taut. The sleek fabric bites into the skin of your thigh the further he pulls it up. “This helps.”

He lets go, snapping the elastic against your skin. You gasp, arching your back, feeling a gush of arousal between your legs at the sudden sting. He repeats this on the other leg, watching how the snap of elastic moves against your soft skin. You hear him suck in a breath through his teeth. 

A hand comes down on your right cheek suddenly, the sound of the smack lingering in the air. You bite down on your lip as you whine, trying to muffle the sound. Changbin’s free hand comes around to grip your mouth, squeezing your cheeks til your lips pop open.

“Quiet!” he hisses in your ear. “I’m not trying to wake anyone up.”

He shoves his middle and ring finger into your mouth, smacking your ass again, alternating each cheek with every spank. He presses down on your tongue, saliva pooling in your mouth, slicking down his fingers. He grunts as you suck on his fingers, pulling them further into the heat of your mouth, swirling your tongue against them. 

The spanks have warmed you up, the sensitive skin on your ass and thighs blooming with heat. Changbin takes a break from spanking, massaging his reddening artwork gently. His hand roams down your thighs, kneading the skin. Slipping his hand between your legs, his fingers delicately brush against your folds.

“Fffuck,” he hisses out. “You’re so fucking wet.”

You moan in response, trying to press back into his hand. Your whole cunt throbs with need, clenching around nothing. You need some part of him, anything, inside of you right away. He keeps his touch light, barely skimming over the skin of your sensitive pussy.

“So wet, you greedy thing,” he whispers in your ear. His fingers “Coming once in the bathroom wasn’t enough for you? You need more?”

You nod feverishly, wiggling against him, seeking any sort of friction. Tears prick in the corners of your eyes, glittering in the low light. 

Changbin pops his fingers out of your mouth, chuckling as he smears your drool over the lower half of your face. 

“You’re already making such a mess,” he murmurs. “I know what you need. Binnie’s got you.”

He leans over, wrapping his arm delicately around your neck so your head rests in the crook of his arm. The chokehold he has you in feels steady, controlled. His hand comes down on your ass, the sound of the slap echoing in the room again. Your hips jolt, whimpering. Changbin slowly flexes his bicep, curling the muscle around your neck leisurely. You can still breathe, but the pressure on the sides of your neck increases, making your head feel fuzzy. 

Changbin sinks one finger into you, simultaneously pressing against your clit with his thumb. A moan tries to leave your throat, but it rasps out as he flexes again. He rubs against you gently from the inside and out, your eyes rolling back in your head, a thrill shooting up your spine. He sinks a second finger into you, stretching you out slightly with each thrust of his hand. You feel the dull beginning of your peak approaching slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. 

Your hands come up to grip his arm, nails scraping against his muscle. The whole time he’s been playing with you like some fine tuned instrument, he’s been whispering in your ear. The lack of blood flow to your brain makes it difficult to hear, but you can feel his breath on your ear. He pulls his fingers out suddenly and loosens the grip of his chokehold. As the blood rushes back to your head, he lands one last smack, directly in the center of your ass, inches away from your pussy.

Your muscles clench, body lurching from the sting, while the building orgasm fades suddenly. You feel a little dizzy from all the blood rushing back into your head. Frustration bursts through the hazy clouds in your head.

“Bin! Wha-” but you don’t get to finish your sentence. Changbin is once again maneuvering your body around, laying you gently down on the floor on your back. 

“You thought it was going to be that easy?” he smirks, placing a pillow underneath your hips as he kneels between your legs. “After teasing me for the last few hours, you thought I’d go easy on you when I got you alone?”

You pout, kicking your feet a little. He grins at your pathetic act, grabbing your ankles. He puts them up on his shoulders, lifting your lower body to rest on his thighs. You feel how hard he is now, his thick cock straining against the material of his underwear. The way he slides his hands up your leg, slowly from ankle to thigh, stopping to admire the way your thighs look in your dark stockings again, has you nearly keening. 

“Bin, please, I need you,” you beg, looking up at him with the most desperate little line forming between your brows.

Changbin just giggles, pulling down the waistband of his boxer briefs until his cock springs free.

“I know, you needy little baby, I know,” he replies. “You’re going to let me play with you for a bit before I let you come again.”

His hands slide to your hips, pressing your thighs together. With one hand, he lines up his cock like he’s about to fuck you, it makes you perfectly delirious at the thought of him filling you up. 

Instead, he slides himself right between your thighs.

You’re so wet, he glides right through the junction of where your thighs meet your cunt. The drag of his cock over your clit makes you gasp. Changbin pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, his head thrown back as he feels how your soft, wet thighs envelop his cock. He thrusts slowly, feeling every inch of your plush flesh as his cock nudges against your aching clit. 

“Fuck, I could just die right here and I’d be happy,” he pants out. His hips shove against yours as he thrusts, making your whole body bounce. Your hands fly to your breasts, holding them as they bounce from his movements. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes, holding back the moans from the frustration and bliss. It’s so much, Changbin is everywhere, holding you up, rutting against you. But it’s not enough. You need him closer.

Suddenly, he pulls away from your body with a strangled groan. As he drops your legs, you look down, watching his flushed cock bobbing helplessly in the air. He takes several deep breaths, willing himself not to come. Not yet. 

As his heartbeat slows a little, he pulls your hips towards him again.

“I can’t wait anymore, baby,” he murmurs. “I have to feel you.”

“Finally, fuck-” you say.

Changbin looks at you, raising an eyebrow as one side of his mouth quirks into a cocky little grin. He pulls you towards him harshly, wrapping your legs around his waist again. He lines up his cock, slick from all the teasing he’s done, and positions the tip right at your entrance. If you’re going to act like that, he can wait a bitlonger just to mess with you a little more. 

“If you want it so bad,” he says, “Come get it.”

He holds your hips steady, only the tip of his cock barely pressing against your entrance. You grunt from the effort of trying to pull your body towards him, trying to make him sink into you. With every move you make, he matches it in the opposite direction, teasing you with his cock, not giving you what you want. 

“Bin, PLEASE,” you whine, trying to keep your voice down, but you’re too keyed up to relax.

Changbin coos at your annoyance.

“Poor thing,” he mocks you with a pitying frown. His hands roam around your pelvis, brushing his fingertips over the most sensitive areas between your hips. “Poor pathetic little baby. You want my cock that bad? Want me to fuck you dumb on my cock?”

You narrow your eyes at his haughty teasing. Determined to back at him, you hook your legs securely around his hips, using the leverage of your position to pull his body towards you.

The strangled moan that comes out of his mouth is almost as good as the way his cock feels as you pull him in, sinking into your warmth slowly. Your eyes flutter, the sting from the stretch of his thick cock makes you forget how to breathe for a moment. Changbin’s fingers dig into your hips, trying to hold himself back from pistoning into you hard and fast. He still wants to drag this out. You’re already on the edge of losing your mind, your muscles clench in anticipation. You feel like you’re about to crash any second.

One of his hands remains fully on your hip while the other splays on your lower belly, thumb brushing lightly over your clit. 

“Oh fuck!” you gasp as you tremble. Changbin giggles, fully sheathed inside you, as he applies gentle pressure onto your clit. 

Your orgasm rips through you unexpectedly, your whole body quivering as your pelvic muscles flutter round his cock. Clenching your teeth, you swallow down the noises trying to burst forth from your mouth.  Your eyes are wide, surprise plastered on your face as you hold Changbin’s gaze. His cocky attitude fades into a look of gentle devotion. He loves when he unravels you like this, bending your body to his will and watching you react as you fight it. The push and pull between the two of you is so finely tuned at this point, it makes both of your hearts sing. 

The tears that were welling up in your eyes trickle down the sides of your face as you throw your head back, rocking against Changbin with a cry. He meets every one of your movements with a deep flick of his hips, drawing out every last ounce of your orgasm. Air finds your lungs again in disjointed breaths, like your body has been reset.

Changbin keeps rhythmically driving his hips into yours slowly, each one with deft precision. Even as your clit becomes too sensitive to touch on the outside, he thrusts into you at an unhurried pace, the coil in your lower belly beginning to tighten again. You’re too sensitive, it takes on a painful edge, every movement like a kiss and a slap at the same time. You tremble from the overstimulation, your chest vibrating with small sobs, feeling like you’re floating outside of your body. 

The one thing grounding you is Changbin. His strength, his hands, his gaze - all keeping you tethered while the rest of you feels like you’re drifting in water. You feel yourself react to him, the mix of arousal and sweat slipping between your bodies. Changbin’s breathing picks up, his hips faltering as he watches you fall apart once more. Impossibly, your pussy clamps down on him again, pulsing with the intensity of a second orgasm crashing over you. 

He looks at you in awe. The two of you have been together for a while now, but every time, it’s like it’s brand new when he watches you come. He could watch forever, suspended in this moment, reliving it over and over again. He loves watching you as you throw yourself into his trust, falling into an abyss knowing that he’s holding you. He’s got you.

It’s that very thought that pushes him over the edge. His eyes squeeze shut, feeling his balls tighten, his hips slamming into you. Your body is malleable, all your energy is gone. Your hands loosely grip onto his arms, looking up at him with a dopey, fucked out smile. He spills inside of you, clenching his teeth as he groans. He loses himself in you in the same way, forgetting anything else matters other than the feeling of being close to you. 

He pumps you full of every last drop he has, nearly collapsing against you, catching himself on his arms as he cages his body around yours. Your lips find his in a messy, exhausted kiss, tasting the desperation, the love, and the care on each others’ tongues. 

You fall asleep on the floor like this, wrapped around one another.

~~~

When you wake up, you’re on the floor alone, cocooned in a soft duvet. A moment of panic is soothed by a small note on the pillow next to you.

Making breakfast, come find me~

You reach for your phone, bleary eyed. It’s almost 8 AM. There’s a general clatter of noise in the distance. 

Pulling on the black shirt he tried to hand to you last night, you rummage through his gym bag for anything to wear on your lower half. There’s only one thing you find in there that could work, a mischievous little grin lighting up your face.

~~~

Changbin is helping make the world’s biggest batch of pancakes, helping your mom and dad set up an assembly line for your family. It’s like cooking for an army. With an apron covering his tank top and workout shorts combo, he is the picture of domesticity. He’s about to serve a few pancakes to one of your young cousins when you walk in, rubbing your eyes sleepily. Changbin’s eyes light up at your appearance, finding himself distracted.

Your hair is messy, eyes half lidded with exhaustion and a sleepy grin on your face. But more than that, it’s about what you’re wearing. One of his shirts fits over your curves perfectly, paired with his black boxer briefs, your thighs stretching the edge of them in the most tantalizing way. He leaves the kitchen area, abandoning the pancakes despite the protests from your baby cousin, and gathers you up in his arms. He presses a few gentle pecks on your cheek as you giggle.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he murmurs as he holds you close. He whispers into your ear, “If I knew you were going to dress like that, I’d definitely give you sleepy head.”

You burst into laughter, color rising to your cheeks. A joke that bad shouldn’t turn you on, but you feel a dull throb between your legs at the thought of morning sex with Changbin.

“What?” your cousin shouts. “What’s so funny?”

You both share a knowing look as giggles bubble up between the two of you.

You hear the snow plow working its way up and down the road while you eat breakfast. As your meal winds down, your family starts to disperse, hugging and saying their goodbyes. This has been one of the easiest holidays you’ve ever had. Warmth spreads through you as you think about how Changbin made it so much better. After you’ve packed up what little you brought, you turn to your parents.

“Text us when you get home!” your mom says.

“Of course,” you reply. “Thanks for having us.”

“Yeah, thanks for the delicious food and letting us stay over!” Changbin adds.

“Anything for you, Changbin!” 

“And I bet you’ll be having a happy New Year,” your dad says, winking at Changbin. 

Your boyfriend’s eyes widen, giving an awkward laugh. “Yeah, of course! Love the countdown and fireworks.”

Your eyes narrow, looking between your dad and Changbin. They’re both acting suspicious. You open your mouth to ask what that was all about, but your mom pulls you both into a bear hug, cutting off your opportunity.

~~~

That was a close one. Your dad tried to give away the massive surprise Changbin has been cooking up for months now. Before breakfast today, he had pulled your parents aside to ask for their blessing to propose to you. Your mom pulled him into a hug as your dad had clapped him on the shoulder, of course they were going to give their blessing.

  There’s a reason he doesn’t bring the ring with him, or else he’d be dropping down to one knee any time you did something that made his heart expand in his chest. 

You smile and your nose crinkles? He’s thinking about getting down on one knee. You make him feel loved and needed? He’s biting his lip so he doesn’t pop the question. You tease him in front of your family with your gorgeous thigh high stockings? He’s thinking about booking a plane ticket to Las Vegas for an Elvis impersonator wedding. 

Your New Year’s Eve is going to be way different than any others you’ve ever had. 

Because Changbin is going to ask you to marry him. 

You’ve got him however you want him. 

He’s got you.

[aworldinsideaperson]

Gala - Doctor Michael Robinavitch

Pairing: Dr. Michael Robinavitch x Charge Nurse!Reader

Plot: Dr. Robby and Charge Nurse!Reader, attend a fundraising Gala for the hospital.

Warnings: Age Gap (18-20 years)

Word Count: 3700

A/N: For the first time in almost a decade I could not stop writing until I finished. I have spent every spare second, stayed up past my bedtime, and hurt my back scrunching over my laptop for hours while I wrote a fic. I am really excited about this and I hope that other people enjoy this as much as I do. Even my bestie @ethereal27cereal who has not watched a moment of The Pitt enjoyed it so hopefully that’s a good sign!

Her idea of a good time after work usual consisted of fluffy slippers and her newest romance novel, her current read being a work place romance that made her feel weak in all the best places. To her a good time did not include shimmying her hips into a dress in the hospital bathroom after a long shift. But she was new, she wasn’t sure she could tell Gloria no when she insisted they NEEDED the new day shift charge nurse at the PTMC fundraising gala. In fact, Gloria was gone before she’d gotten any response at all.

So here she was, smoothing out the glittering fabric of a dress she’d never even imagined trying on, as she walked down the hall of the emergency department to grab the last of her things. The first voice she heard was Frank Langdon, a resident recently returned from a leave she hadn’t been nosey enough to ask about.

“You look… wow.” Was all he could manage, his mouth agape and eyes like saucers.

Y/N’s face contorted, eyes darting to Princess who sat at the computer closest to her.

“Is it too much?” She asked as a look of panic washed over her face. “I’ve never gone to one of these things but Javadi said it was kind of on par with what people typically wear and Cassie said it looked nice so I-” Her rambling was cut short by a whistle.

“Actually, I said it was hot and I was totally right!” The grin on McKay’s face seemed to only grow as she came closer to the small group that was beginning ot form at the corner of the nurses station. “Turn around;” She encouraged. “Give them the whole look.”

Y/N’s tight shoulders sagged, a small smile coming to her lips as she did a slow turn, revealing the low back with strands of cream pearls draping from one shoulder across to the other, then turning around again. Her eyes were glued to the ground, lips pulled in tight. A new voice letting out a soft “wow” causing her eyes to dart back up towards the sound.

“Well put Robby.” Langdon chuckles, patting his mentor on the shoulder as he passes by headed for his next patient.

A gasp comes from just down the hall. “Oh my gosh you look so pretty!” Mel exclaims, the smile on her face bright and genuine as she approaches the dwindling group of staff. Y/N whispers a small thanks, smiling at the sweet woman now before her. “And you look very distinguished Dr. Robby.” Mel continues, her head held high as she continued to smile at her attending.

“Thank you Mel,” Robby smiles, “ someone finally notices the old man in the very expensive rented tux.” He eyes the remaining crowd.

“Well comparatively, you’re not much to look at.” Matteo lets out a smooth laugh, grabbing a tablet and chasing after Langdon; catching him just as he was walking out of the patients room likely to get the tablet Matteo was handing him.

Y/N shuffles closer to Dr. Robinavitch. He was tall, with dark locks, sweet brown eyes, and she wondered if the beard felt as soft as it looked. She often had to talk herself down from reaching out to touch it. Especially now. Well groomed, it looked shaped and brushed and oiled. She thought about how smooth it’d feel against her skin. Surely a thought that would get her into so much trouble. Michael Robinavitch, nearly 20 years her senior, was handsome and sweet and kind and if she thought about it too much she might just break the careful wall she’s been building to keep her desires at bay. Yet she still reached out. Still slowly moved her hand over his shoulder. Lint. She’d explained to herself. Though looking at him with a sweet smile and a soft compliment, “Well I think you look great Robby.” She felt like she was on fire.

He smiled, eyes locking with hers, sounds of the emergency department dissipating to a low hum, “Thank you Y/N, but he’s right, you are the better looking ED staff.” He was quiet, as he often was with her, as if the two of them were in their own little world. Her thanks just as soft before the two of them turn to the remaining staff, all of whom pretending as if they were not just watching their interactions like some HBO romantic drama.

“Don’t be afraid to come get us if you need anything.” Robby’s voice loud, stressing the last word of his sentence.

“And he does mean anything. Need help with a bandage please do not hesitate to come get one of us, preferably me, from the very stuffy and exhausting event where we will be begging for money.” Her face pleading.

“Yes, and as the attending you should really come get me.” He stressed.

McKay rolled her eyes. “We’re not going to be getting either of you. Night shift is here soon we can hold down the fort until then.”

“I just really think one of us should stay with you guys. And as the attending it really should be me.” He was beginning to sound like a child, begging not to go to great grandma’s house.

It’s Collins, fresh out of a patients room, bump protruding as she places her hands on her hips. “Get out of my ED before I have you both banned from the property.”

“You can’t do that.” Robby insisted.

Cocking her head to the side, her smile dropped. “Wanna bet? I’ve got an in with the security around here.”

This caused Y/N to place her hand on Robby’s chest and gently direct him to the door. “Alright well I guess we’ll head out. Unless anyone needs anything last minute.” Making one last attempt to get their way thwarted by a chorus of “Get out!” from what seemed to be the entire department. Y/N shoots back a final “Have a good night guys.”

As they finally make their way out the door, Santos yells out after them. “Go get us some fucking funding!”

What they don’t hear are the chattering voices wondering. “Think they’ll make it the night without sleeping together?”

Or the responses of, “Fuck no.”

Together the two walked across the street in silence. Comfortable walking side by side, Robby offering his arm as they stepped off the ledge of the sidewalk and into the street. She moved slower than usual in the heels she’d donned but he didn’t seem to mind as he kept an eye out for cars and potential hazards until they stepped back up to the sidewalk in front of the event center.

That’s then that she froze. Face twisted and breath caught in her throat. “Are you sure this looks okay?” She asked, eyes trained on Robby who kept his glued to hers. “I know I keep asking I’m not fishing for compliments I just don’t want to make a bad impression and maybe ruin something good coming to the ED.” The words were rushed, pouring out of her as she spiraled into panic.

Robby took a deep breath, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. “Relax.” He began. Demonstrating deep breathes to encourage her own before continuing. “You look gorgeous.” His voice reassuring and her shoulders dropped, breathing finding a more normal pattern. “If it makes you feel better I’ve only been to like 2 of these and both times I threw up in the parking lot and we still got new chairs for the nurses station last year.” He let out a soft laugh, though from the look of mild distress he seemed to be telling the truth.

A wide grin spread across her face, eyes lighting up with joy. “So really so long as I don’t kill anyone they’ll let us keep our half working coffee machine?”

Robby laughed, a full laugh that shook into his core, a thing he seemed to do more and more the more time he spent around Y/N. “If you’re really charming they may even put name brands in the vending machine.”

Feigned horror and shock painted across her features before becoming stoic and serious. “There’s a lot riding on this then.” Her face cracked into a small smile and his heart stuttered.

“You’re gonna be great.” He assured once again, his thumb now stroking back and forth on her shoulder, the tips of his fingers grazing the skin of her shoulder. “Hell of a lot better than me probably why they invited you.”

Y/N looked at the older man skeptically. “I don’t know Robby, you’re pretty charming.”

“Only to you.” The words slipped, his smile dropping slightly as he finally removed his hand and turned to the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

The doors opened into a large banquet room with high ceilings and chandeliers. Y/N wondered how much had been spent on this event while the hospital remained understaffed. It was a beautiful space and music filled the air around them, loud enough to hear, to spur some folks to dance, and soft enough to speak over. That was the purpose after all, speaking, begging, convincing people that their hospital, that the Emergency Department, was worthy of their donations. It’d be a long night.

Robby leans down, his lips closer to her ear than needed. “I’m going to grab us some drinks. Why don’t you find our seats.”

A quick nod and Y/N is setting off in the direction of the poster that seemed to be holding table assignments. Images of her best friend’s wedding nearly a decade prior flash through her mind. The last time she’d worn something so formal, been in such a beautiful space. She had 3 kids now and their once daily chats had dwindled to quarterly calls. She knew all about Robby though. She called after Y/N’s first week in the Pitt and she’d clocked then Y/N’s little crush. Called it sexy trouble.

Finding her way to the table she and Robby were assigned she thought about the phrase from her friend. ‘Sexy Trouble.’ Doctor Micheal Robinavitch was definitely sexy and the way she felt when he was close, so so much trouble.

He placed a glass of champagne in front of her and one in space beside her. Their table was empty, likely already mingling. “What’s our plan of attack?” He asked plopping down beside her.

“I was going to ask you that. You’re the one whos done this before.” Her face again began too contort, anxiety raising in her chest.

“Have you seen the state of the ED? I’m not exactly doing a great job.”

“You’re doing the best you can. Gloria and the board might not know that but even in these last six months I’ve seen it very single day. You’re doing the best you know how.”

Robby closed his eyes, taking her hand in his and giving it a tight squeeze. Looking into her eyes a beat of Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time reaches his ears. Smiling brightly he stands. “May I have this dance?”

“Only if you don’t mind me stepping all over your toes.” She laughs though she’s already standing, hand still holding tightly to Robby’s.

“I’ll take my chances.” Giving her hand another squeeze he leads her to the space a few pairs have made, swaying to the beats of an eclectic playlist. Robby’s hand slides over her hip to her lower back, palm burning into her exposed skin. “You know, they played this at my senior prom.” He laughed thinking back to Barbra Wilson, his prom date, and the atrocious white tux she’d begged him to wear with the pink cumberbund and tie.

An exaggerated look of shock came to her face. “Wow, it’s amazing you can remember that far back.”

Robby rolled his eyes and huffed. “Ha ha ha. I’m not THAT old.” He insisted, though the feeling in his lower back was making him think otherwise.

A grin spread across her face as she spoke. “I wasn’t born when you went to your senior prom.”

His face dropped, hurt painting itself across his features for only a moment. “Okay ouch.”

“It’s okay,” She began, settling her lips close to his ear to whisper. “I won’t call you a cradle robber if you don’t call me a grave robber.”

The air in his lungs stopped moving. Slowly his face turned, so easily their lips could have slotted together. If only the universe didn’t enjoy his misery. It’s Jack Abbot’s voice that breaks the fantasy. “You guys are here too? I thought I got roped in because you guys wouldn’t come.” He’s shoving a crab cake into his mouth as he speaks, a second still in his hand.

“What are you doing over here?” Robby asks, reluctantly pulling his hands from Y/N’s body.

Abbot eyes him then shrugs. “Gloria called me and it sounded more like a threat than an invitation so I came.”

As if to speak her being into existence, Gloria strides toward the three of them. The look of horror etched into her face growing deeper the closer she gets “You’re in your scrubs?” Her question stressed through gritted teeth.

Again Jack shrugs. “You’re the one who told me to get here ASAP. To me ASAP doesn’t involve changing.”

Her muscles tense a moment, eyes closing as she lets out a slow breath to calm herself. “Just go.” She breathes again, now turning toward the pair appropriately dressed for the event. “Robby, Y/N, I need you to come tell some people about the idea you had for chairs.”

Robby frowns, “The one you shot down 2 weeks ago?”

Gloria gives an exasperated sigh.“Yes. Let’s go.”

The two followed Gloria to a small group of unfamiliar faces and it’s nearly an hour and a half before they find themselves back in their seats, both well into their third glass of champagne, skin prickling with hope. They’d seemed interested in their idea. Their interest had sparked interest in Gloria and hope filled their chests. Maybe this would help, maybe tonight would actually make a difference. Y/N let her head drop to Robby’s shoulder, eyes closing as a new melody floated through the air. She sighed. “I love this song.”

Robby nudged her head from his shoulder and stood, holding his hand out to her. “Come on, I think my old bone have one last dance left in ‘em.”

She smiled, slowly rising from her chair and the pair made their way back onto the dance floor, now even less crowded than it had been earlier, and resumed their earlier positon swaying to Coldplay’s Yellow. Their body’s were pressed closer than they had been before; looking Robby up and down she huffed a small chuckle. “Why don't you dress like this more often? I could get used to this look.”

Robby laughed aloud, pulling her even closer to his chest. “Oh yeah I’ll just start running around doing intubations and chest tubes and shit in a shirt and tie. Hey maybe I’ll even wear suspenders and a white coat like that one guy you keep telling me I look so much like from your show.”

Her eyes grow wide, hands coming to gently slap against Michael’s chest.“Oh my God that guy from ER!” She exclaims. “I used to love that show. When I was growing up my mom and I watched it religiously. Dr. John Carter.” She looks at Robby wistfully. “Probably the reason I dated so many doctors in my youth.”

Again, he can’t help but laugh. “Your youth, as if you’re not currently young.”

“I’m 31, that’s the ancient for women didn’t you know? I’m half way in the grave.” She attempts to make her statement sound matter of fact though she’s hardly able to hold back her grin.

“Well I think you’re incredibly beautiful for being half dead.” Robby’s voice is soft, and her shoulders relax as she places her head against him. The space between them is quiet for a moment before his soft voice speaks again. “Is that what made you want to get into the medical field?”

“What?” She’d been lost in her own world, a fantasy where this was more than colleagues, more than friends. Just more.

“ER. With your mom?”

“Oh! No. Well not because of ER but because of my mom.” She takes a quarter step back, giving herself space, removing herself from the fantasy. “ When I was like 11 my mom got really sick and we spent a lot of time trying to figure out what was wrong. We were in hospitals all the time. I watched the nurses work really hard to make sure even if they couldn’t fix my mom they were doing everything the could to help. It left an impression on me now here I am 20 years later.”

“Did they ever find out what was wrong with her? Your mom?” His questions aren’t pushy or probative, they’re genuine, questions he wants to hear real answers to.

She nodded. “MS. But because her doctor didn’t want to run a test in the beginning it took them 10 years to figure it out and by then the window of relapsing remitting had passed and she’d moved into secondary progressive. She got really bad about 3 years ago then 8 months ago she died.”

Robby closes the gap, pulling her close against him again, both arms wrapping around her tightly. He adores his mother even at 50 years old he can’t imagine what it will be like when he loses her. “I’m so sorry.”

She smiles softly, her eyes dampening with a few tears. “Thank you. It’s why I’m here really. I needed to move. I needed to be somewhere different.”

“It might be bad to say but, under any circumstances, I’m glad you’re here.” Robby brings his hand to her face, his thumb wiping gently at a small shed tear. But she smiles.

“It might be bad to say, but Me too.” She once again rests her head against him as they sway through the last notes of the song and into the next, then the next and before they realize it the room has become close to empty and they begin to take their leave. Again Robby gives her his arm as they cross the street but he doesn’t let go once they’re standing on hospital property, not when they walk into the building, through to the parking garage. Not even when they’re standing beside her car.

Leaning up against the driver’s side door, Y/N fiddled with her keys. “Do you need a ride?”

Robby shook his head. “Nah I left my backpack inside and I’m like half a block away so I’ll make it.”

She nodded, her voice still low. “Well thank you for walking me all the way to my car.”

“Of course.” The air between them grew thick, Michael lifted his hand placing his palm against her jaw, thumb smoothing over her heating cheek. Staring deeply into her eyes he spoke hardly above a whisper. “It might be the champagne hitting me but God, I want to kiss you right now.”

“Maybe you should.” The words tumbled from her lips before she could think.

“Please don’t tease me.” He begged.

“From here you’re the one thats teasing.” That as all it took before Micheal Robinavitch was leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. A soft, tender, electrifying kiss turning into one of need and passion. Her hands gripped tightly to his lapel. The satin slick against her fingers as she pulled him closer. So much closer. Melting into his body as Robby wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her tightly against him and their lips and hearts synched and all the pieces around them began shifting into place.

A cough across the parking lot pulls their lips apart but they stay connected. Foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, breath shaky. Y/N whispers. “I should head home. My shift starts at six.”

Micheal nods, not pulling away from her. “Mines seven.”

Still connected she smiles, pressing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow Doctor Robinavitch.”

He sighs. “Michael.”

“Michael.” For the first time in years prefers the sound of his name over Robby.

“Say it again.” He pleads

“Goodnight Michael.” She places another slow and tender kiss to his lips before finally pulling away and moving to get into her car.

“Goodnight Y/N.” The grin he keeps trying to hide is painted with her lipstick. He steps back, watching her drive away then leans up against the wall. Calming himself for nearly ten minutes after she’s driven away before he can walk back into the Pitt, before he can face his friend because Jack Abbot will know something has happened and he’s no ready to field those questions. Not when all he can think about is her.

It’s nearly five hours into their shift when a small group finds themselves standing at the desk, looking at the board. It’s McKay who speaks up first. “Has anyone else noticed how… chipper those two are?” Her eyes finding Robby and Y/N standing down the hall way, smiling brightly as they speak.

Princess nods. “Y/N has been humming the same song all morning.”

“Robby too.” Frank adds “It kinda sounded like Yellow by Coldplay but I didn’t think he listened to anything from this century.”

“That’s what I thought I heard from Y/N.” Javadi adds, hand up blocking the light from her still sensitive eyes. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone with her mom the night before, or maybe she just shouldn’t have had so much champagne. Then her eyes grow wide, looking around the small group. “You don’t think they…?” Her question trailing off.

Perlah’s face breaks out into a grin, pure joy radiation from her face. “Oh for sure.”

Santos scrunches her noise, sending a dirty look to the nurse across the desk. “Well no collection until confirmation Perlah. I’m still holding out for his surprise party next month.”

Just then Y/N pops up beside them. “Keep it down about the party damn it!”

[sareeen]

Unknown Touches for a Lady

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N never thought she would be married to the spymaster of the Night Court. However, they are undoubtedly married and nothing will save her from the night ahead of her.

Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, lovely azriel

Here –> Part 2 Masterlist

A/N: The idea that popped into my head today and I didn't get up until I wrote it. :)

English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistake.

Y/N felt the bed sink in beside her and someone, her husband, fold up the edge of the blanket and slip quietly under the duvet.

Y/N felt as if she would suffocate with fear.

Two hours ago, they had gone through the ceremony where she was forced to marry the spymaster of the Night Court in a luxurious setting.

For a purpose, her father said as he adjusted her veil.

It was nothing more than a means to make a deal for the benefit of the Court of Nightmares. More food, more power in exchange for soldiers and a girl.

In fact, her family had eagerly offered her to the High Lord as a prospective bride, and as she was educated and intelligent enough to be chosen over the other women in the Court of Nightmares.

For a long time Y/N did not know to whom she was to be married. She had been raised from a very young age to believe that she was destined to be a wife and mother, but she never thought that it would be him.

But now she was given a chance. A chance to leave that damn evil place and be away from her family.

Today, for the first time in her life, she could see the stars and feel the gentle touch of the breeze on her skin, bringing tears to her eyes. If she was lucky, perhaps her husband would never send her back there. If she obeyed him – though the very thought made her feel sick. All her existence had consisted of nothing but submitting to others. She would have liked to have ruled over herself, but it would always be a dream, now that she was married.

The shadowsinger moved beside her, causing every cell in Y/N to warn her to run.

Well, it's happening, she thought despondently to herself and closed her eyes.

She knew exactly what her duty was. What must happen.

For this marriage to be legitimate, Y/N must give in to her husband and willingly spread her legs.

“I know you don't want to,” he said softly behind her back before gently placing his hand on her hip. Y/N jumped at the sudden touch. “But we have a duty, Y/N.”

She shuddered as the spymaster spoke her name out of his mouth. His voice was soft, but still a warning tone mixed into the words. She had no doubt that he was not often contradicted and may the Great Mother have mercy on whoever tried.

Y/N licked her lips and let out a shaky sigh, then nodded. Trembling, she turned onto her back and it took her a few seconds to gather her courage and look at her husband.

Azriel watched her silently, his figure illuminated by the faint moonlight that filtered through the gaps in the drawn curtains. Y/N could see his broad shoulder, the swelling muscles in his arm, and even the dark outline of his tattoo in the dim light.

Y/N could feel the golden brown eyes watching her warily as they scrutinized her. She was surprised to find that the shadowsinger did not return her stare for a moment and kept his gaze on her face the whole time. Perhaps he was waiting for her to make a move.

Maybe he was waiting for her to initiate.

Y/N's mouth went dry at the thought that he might have wanted her to. However, she had been raised to do what others wanted, so with all her presence of mind she slowly touched her palm to Azriel's chest. She felt warm, silky skin and felt a steady heartbeat beneath her hand as she slid it a little further away. She heard the Illyrian take a deep breath and the scarred finger she had put the gold ring on a few hours ago gently stroked the cool back of her hand.

Y/N was so startled for a moment that she forgot to breathe. Never had she imagined that the dreaded shadowsinger could be so gentle as he was now.

Perhaps behind the scars and shadows there was not a monster, but a feeling being.

A tiny germ of hope began to blossom in Y/N and she continued to caress him a little more boldly. Her hand glided down Azriel's muscular arm and Y/N was startled to find herself enjoying it.

The way the steely muscles tighten under her touch, the heat radiating from his body as if beaming up at her, inviting her to slide closer and enjoy it.

Azriel, as if hearing her thoughts, took hold of her waist and gently pulled her towards him until their chests touched.

Y/N's nightgown was so thin that the spymaster could easily feel that her nipples were hard and straining against his chest.

Azriel groaned, barely audible, and something inside Y/N stirred at the sound.

Confused, she felt wetness between her legs and some primal longing that she had never experienced before took her. She almost longed for him to return her touch. To have him caress her heated skin. It was so unfamiliar to her, and yet it was as if her body knew how to press herself against him.

Unexpectedly, she felt the hardness against her belly that made her go rigid, but Azriel just squeezed the soft flesh of her hip and didn't let her move away.

“No,” he whispered and buried his face in her hair, his thumb tracing soothing circles around her waist. “Don't be frightened. This is what happens when –“

“I'm not so clueless that I don't know what it is,” Y/N said, blushing. She thanked the Gods for the darkness. “The women explained everything to me before the wedding anyway. That this is what it takes to conceive a marriage and it's the natural reaction of every man when he touches a woman in a loose fitting nightgown.”

Azriel remained silent, but eventually he involuntarily chuckled to himself. Y/N smiled vaguely, but the man's shaking chest and voice filled her with a certain joy. It reassured her.

“Not all men,” Azriel said, wrapping a lock of her hair around his finger and tugging it gently. “But you're certainly beautiful and you're wearing very little nightgown.”

“I didn't choose it” Y/N muttered grumpily as she lowered her head to look at the said piece. It was a little translucent and she felt a twinge of anxiety when she first saw that she would have to wear it tonight.

“I thought so,” he muttered. “If it's any comfort I think it looks good on you and I like it very much.”

She had heard rumors of the shadowsinger that he hardly spoke, but they were now lying here and he was obviously talkative.

Y/N finally understood that this was Azriel's way of distracting her and calming the emotions that were raging inside her.

Her fear of the unknown and to make her comfortable with the situation. No one had ever done anything like that for her, not even her mother.

She swallowed hard and, not giving herself time to drift away from the thought, leaned into him and pressed her lips to his. She didn't know how to do this, since tonight she was getting the first kiss of her life from Azriel at the altar in front of hundreds of guests. It was more like a little peck than a kiss.

She understood this when Azriel recovered from his momentary shock and kissed her back. This was different.

The spymaster's hand slid into her hair, his fingers tangled in her ringlets as he gently tilted her head into position and everything just got better.

The angle of the kiss changed, deepened much more and something like an excited tremor began in Y/N's belly. The scent of Azriel filled her senses, the cool night mist and cedar balming her soul, her nails involuntarily digging into Azriel's biceps and it was as if he lost all restraint at that small movement.

He rolled Y/N onto her back, then towered over her and kissed her fiercely. His tongue stroked along her lower lip as if asking for admission and she hesitantly opened it and Azriel's tongue immediately made its way to hers. Y/N let her husband guide her and she was almost giddy with pleasure.

She enjoyed the way Azriel's tongue glided over hers, the weight of him pressing her almost uncomfortably into the mattress and the hot hardness between her legs.

The shadowsinger's lips moved to her chin, and Y/N gasped for air as he moved lower and lower, finding a spot in the hollow between her shoulder and neck that made her hip snap away from the bed and involuntarily rub against Azriel.

Heat flooded her face, but she was unable to pull away from him and with long, sensual strokes she wanted more, which he acknowledged with soft moans.

Strong hands now gripped her thighs and Azriel moved lower, then bucked his hips and pushed against her. His pants and Y/N's underwear blocked them, but Azriel touched a space between her legs and moved as she imagined he would when he will be inside her.

She never thought it would be like this. This overwhelming feeling of his body moving over her, which he'd then elicited from her. Sighs erupted from deep within her body and Azriel kissed her as if to absorb the sounds she was making.

“That's it” Azriel gasped as Y/N arched and their hips met. “Just like that, my beauty.”

She groaned at the endearment and watched the wings spread wide on Azriel's back with a glazed look.

The membrane made the room even darker as it blocked out what little light had crept into the room. She wanted to feel the feel of it under her fingers.

“You can touch them,” he whispered, his breathing labored by Y/N's ear. “But only if I can touch you.”

“But you already do” she gasped, a thin layer of sweat beading on her forehead.

Azriel then let go of her thighs and slid between them, then reached down to her panties and pressed the outer curve of his hand to the spot where Y/N's body throbbed and almost burned. Gasping for air, panting, she made sounds that she should have been ashamed of, but her mind was in a fog and she could not contain herself. She would be ashamed later, but for now she could only cling to Azriel's strong shoulder.

“Here, Y/N” Azriel chuckled. “This is where I want to touch you.”

Y/N bit her lip at her husband's lustfuled words and nodded.

“There –“ her throat was tight, she could hardly get the words out. “It's good there.”

“Is it?”

“Yes” she cried softly.

His hand had pulled her underwear aside and was now touching her bare skin, causing Y/N's head to bob to the side and she clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle her voice.

However, Azriel stopped her hard and gave a disgruntled squeak.

“No, Y/N,” he muttered darkly. “I want to hear you.”

His wings fluttered, drawing her attention, and she stretched out her arm. When she touched the taut, silky membrane, Azriel shuddered and rubbed her harder between her legs.

Y/N loved what she was eliciting from her husband, so she repeated the motion and this time touched her fingernail to it a little, letting it gently scratch the inside of the wing.

“Cauldron” Azriel almost gritted his teeth in pleasure and buried his face in her neck. “You drive me crazy.”

Y/N felt the same way. His hand between her legs, his lip now brushing tiny kisses on her neck. It was killing her and she felt like a bowstring being stretched, ready to snap at any moment. Something was building inside her, the warmth in the pit of her belly seemed to be tightening and it was almost unbearable.

Then Azriel slipped a finger into the wetness between her legs and she gasped for air. It was a stinging sensation, but as he curled his finger he hit a good spot in her and she began to moan.

When Azriel gently pulled it out and then slipped back in, she heard that wet squeaking sound and it made her even more excited.

She wanted to touch him too. So much so that she had the courage to slip her hand into Azriel's pants and touch his hardness.

“Y/N” Azriel gasped as he pulled away from the delicate skin of her neck and peered down at her in the darkness.

“Teach me, please” she whispered with heavy lids. “How to touch you so that you feel as I feel now.”

Azriel closed his eyes and laughed softly.

“I already feel like that” he panted, but he helped Y/N and showed her how to take him in her grip. How tightly to squeeze and when he moved his hip to move into her hand, Y/N felt herself die instantly in admiration.

“Honey” Azriel sighed. “I need to be inside you.”

She knew what he meant.

She was a little afraid, because the women had said it would hurt terribly. However, what they had just done with Azriel had never been told that she would feel like this, so she hoped the sex would be different. Just as fantastic as this.

She opened her legs wider, giving him permission to make her his. Azriel immediately pulled her underwear off her and his own pants, then took her in his arms.

He adjusted himself between her legs but stopped and the golden brown eyes almost burned her face.

“This might hurt a little” he whispered to her and stroked her cheek affectionately. “But I'll try to do it as slowly and gently as possible.”

“It's fine, Azriel” she wrapped an arm around his shoulder and that's when she felt him shiver slightly too. Well, he was nervous too. “I'm used to the pain.”

Azriel froze, then sank down on top of her, so that their naked bodies were touching.

“From now on, no one will ever hurt you again,” he growled, his voice hard and purposeful.

Then he entered her, very slowly and Y/N gasped. She tensed in pain and whimpered and Azriel took her head in both hands and kissed her.

Finally when she thought she would pass out, she felt she couldn't take it. They lay there for a long time, but Azriel pushed forward and forward and then stopped.

Y/N sighed shakily and when her pain turned into a dull throbbing, he moved.

It was awfully strange the way Azriel moved inside her. It was unfamiliar, but after a while it got better and she gasped and clung to Azriel as if he would hold her and not let her fall over the precipice.

Emboldened, he thrust his hips faster and harder toward her and pulled her toward him with one hand, making them both gasp for air.

“Gods” Y/N broke from Azriel's lips and she groaned. Somehow the man moved in a different way and it drove her mad. “There!”

As if born to pleasure his wife, he repeated the motion again and his hand slid to her breast. He took one of her nipples between his fingers, then leaned in and licked it, whereupon Y/N clamped herself around her husband's member and moaned.

“Come for me, honey.”

His finger slid to her clit and rubbed it, which triggered something inside her.

Lights exploded behind her eyelids, her insides clenched and an animalistic moan tore from her. The heat was overwhelming her and she was sure it was over, she would die here and now, but Gods - if it is death she will be glad to go with it.

Azriel's hips slammed hard against her and she felt something warm flood over her and he shuddered. She wrapped her arms around him as if to protect him and their sweaty foreheads touched as they panted with the sensations that overwhelmed them.

Y/N opened her eyes and studied Azriel's face in the dim light. His handsome face was now relaxed and a small smile lurked at the corner of his mouth, his long black lashes casting shadows across his cheek. Her breath caught as she opened his eyes and his golden brown gaze locked on her.

There was an air of kindness and contentment that was evident in the way his hand stroked gently down her side.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly and pulled out of her, careful not to hurt her. The sheet was a little bloody, but neither of them cared.

“Yes,” Y/N whispered and turned to face him as he lay down next to her. Azriel covered them with the blanket and took her hand. “It didn't hurt that much.”

He smiled and kissed her hand.

“It won't after this.”

“Will it be after this?” asked Y/N shyly but hopefully.

“There will be a lot after this.”

Y/N almost burst with joy. Maybe this marriage won't be so bad after all.

[aquaquadrant]

What I'd give to know what Jimmy said to Timmy during that conversation to reassure him

this is a very old ask and referring to part x of from eden, when jimmy and tango first met timmy. while tango was chewing bravo out, the bird boys were off in a huddle. this is that huddle.

~*~

“bravo! did you- oh.” timmy breaks off mid-sentence, every other thought flying clear out of his mind as he stares at his counterpart.

there’s no one else it could possibly be. timmy knows this instinctively, as instinctively as he first knew his own name was timmy despite the username ‘animositygaming’ glaring up at him from his communicator. as instinctively as he first knew that being called ‘jimmy’ by others as a joke felt wrong for reasons he couldn’t articulate- until now.

“oh,” he breathes, his voice small even to his own ears. “i see… you must be jimmy.”

“and you’re timmy,” his counterpart says softly, in a voice ten times stronger and richer than timmy’s despite the identical cadence, “aren’t you? gosh…”

(they’re finally meeting!)

(it’s about time.)

(a tale of two jimmys!)

the old voices in timmy’s head have been far more active lately than they were over the last several years. they’d visit from time to time, typically only whenever something interesting happened to him at spawn. of course, ‘interesting’ tended to mean ‘unfortunate for his personal wellbeing.’ the voices added insult to injury whenever a spawn camper or wandering ruffian decided to take out their anger on him, finding a nasty sort of satisfaction in his pain.

but he never paid much attention to the voices, because they’d only ever tell him things he already knew: he’s weak, he’s pathetic, and he deserves every awful thing that’s ever happened to him.

since reuniting with bravo, there’s been a surge of activity from the voices. they seem to take particular interest in bravo, all the things he says and does, reacting with amusement or excitement. every hard-won battle against the mercenaries hunting them, every new development with his redstone portal, every tense engagement with mr. instinct- it’s almost entertaining to them, timmy thinks.

and they love to tell timmy that bravo doesn’t really care about him, that timmy is just a novelty that bravo will grow tired of, that he’s not good enough to be worth all this effort.

“timmy!” bravo hisses, panic and guilt written across his face. “i told you to wait for me to come get you!”

as if timmy needed the voices to tell him that.

his counterpart, jimmy, is better in every imaginable way. he stands several inches taller than timmy- not due to an actual height difference, but because of his posture. he’s more confident, less closed-off; his back straight and his broad shoulders set back. and they are broad; his frame is filled and muscular, no hollows in his cheeks, no sharp angles to his bones. healthy tanned skin perfectly complements his golden hair and deep brown eyes, with no dark circles to speak of. there are however some fresh cuts and bruises that must’ve been bravo’s doing (he’s a good fighter, not like timmy) but jimmy’s only perceivable flaw is the scar across his crooked nose- which, in timmy’s opinion, just makes him look rugged.

his hair is short, timmy realizes. not as short as his own after bravo took a pair of shears to it, but much shorter than the unkempt state timmy previously let his fall into. and with that, it all falls into place.

“sorry,” timmy murmurs, “i was just… gosh, i- everythin’ makes sense now…” he turns to bravo, apologetic and understanding. “i… get why i wasn’t good enough.”

he’d wondered why bravo even bothered bringing him from spawn, why he’d put up with his uselessness all this time just to be disappointed- beyond the usual kind, that is. there was some sort of hidden expectation that timmy just couldn’t meet, and now he knows why.

(and the truth comes out!)

(see, we tried to warn you…)

(how does it feel, knowing you were just a second-rate replacement?)

bravo cringes. “no, no i- i didn’t mean-”

“ey, c’mere mate,” jimmy interrupts, crossing the distance to timmy in just a couple strides. “it’s alright. ignore him a second, hey?”

jimmy fans a wing out to block them from the others, a curtain of sorts, and timmy can’t help but admire it. the feathers are all full and smooth at the edges, rippling with a golden sheen that catches every stray bit of torchlight. they look like they’d be soft to the touch. unconsciously, timmy tucks his own raggedy wings even closer to his body.

“you alright?” jimmy asks, quieter now. “i- i gotta say, this is a bit of a surprise, isn’t it?”

that might be an attempt at shared humor. timmy chances a look up at him, shoulders hitched by his ears. “so, we’re… counterparts?” he ventures hesitantly. that’s one of the words bravo’s used to describe tango- that and doppelgänger, clone, and some others he’d rather not think about.

“seems that way.” jimmy exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “i- i’m so sorry you’ve been trapped in this horrible place, i only just found out about counterparts but i swear, i was gonna come for you. it’s just- there was a lot goin’ on, and we had to work out the portal thing…” he winces. “i’m sorry, that- that sounds lame.”

“it’s alright,” timmy whispers, tilting his head. strange, that jimmy seems to have placed that responsibility on himself. “not… your fault.”

“what happened to you?” jimmy asks, voice filled with sorrow and eyes shining with empathy. “i mean, how- how’d you get like this?”

(emaciated and disgusting, you mean?)

(even more pathetic than you!)

timmy wrings his hands, suddenly feeling a rush of shame at his haggard appearance. “hels is… too dangerous, for people like me. i learned spawn is safer, even if… there isn’t any food.” he glances over his shoulder and past jimmy’s wing, where bravo and tango are speaking in hushed voices on the other side of the cave. “that’s where bravo found me.”

here jimmy pauses. his eyes dart about in a very particular way; scanning timmy intently while simultaneously trying to not look like it. “does he treat you alright?” he asks, his voice low and careful.

“he… treats me as good as he’s able,” timmy answers with a sad smile, stretching out a wing to glance at the shorn flight feathers he knows jimmy’s already noticed. “he was tryin’ to help, honest.”

(busted!)

something dark flashes in jimmy’s eyes, making timmy’s heart jolt- to think someone could get so upset on his behalf! “oh, don’t you worry, we’ll get that all sorted,” jimmy says firmly, before quickly softening again. “but for now, can i just say… i’m so glad i got to meet you.”

timmy blinks. “… what?”

jimmy spreads his hands, shoulders bowing forward as his wings draw in. “i dunno how this whole thing works, if you’re actually a part of me or not- or i a part of you, y’know, it- it goes both ways. but i just think…” he smiles then, and it’s kind and warm and a little bit blinding, just like the fabled sun, and says, “gosh, how special it is… to meet someone like me.”

(well, that’s certainly… a take.)

(aw, they’re kind of sweet… in a pathetic way.)

(birds of a feather, these two.)

despite himself, timmy feels his own smile- a real, genuine smile- spread across his face. “yeah, same here.”

jimmy brightens at that, reaching out to put a hand on timmy’s shoulder. the movement is careful and gentle, so unlike what timmy’s used to, and he thinks he’d be content to stay like this forever even if the mere weight of jimmy’s hand is starting to drag him off balance.

“we’ll look after ya, mate,” jimmy says, “i promise. now, let’s set a few things straight with bravo, shall we?”

“alright,” timmy replies softly.

(wow, never thought there could be a player worse than jimmy at practically everything.)

(it’s a low bar, but you’ll still never be able to reach it, overworld or no.)

(you’re not worth it.)

jimmy’s hand tightens on timmy’s shoulder, almost as if he can hear the voices, too. but timmy pays them no mind.

it’s nothing he doesn’t already know.

~*~

[monstas1ut]

Unforeseen

SATORU GOJO x black!nerdy!reader

Summary

__ garden tool!Satoru Gojo is the hoe of jujutsu college, he’s known by many.. for good looks, funny commentary, and a big slinky dick he can’t keep in his pants. What happens when he gets ahold of black!nerdy!reader who has read too many smut books…

Content

__ black!reader, female!reader, gojo is a hoe, unprotected risky sex, creampies, slight power bottom!reader, dirty talk, floor sex, oral, worshipping cock, pussy drunk Satoru, lots of teasing

___ brown skin can be dark, light, medium color.. whatever. brown is brown.. and it's gorgeous

A/n : I did not read this over…lol

Sweet angels almost always fall to the inevitable conclusion of becoming corrupted. Could anyone imagine the bright blue eyed whore of a man being a sweet angel? The answer to that daring question was no. Not even the most artistic souls that specialized in imagination couldn’t see that man being anywhere near angelic. Sure, his hair was as white as precious angel wings but his actions made even the devil flustered.

If there was one person on campus that knew nothing of this so-called angel, they must be new to the school. And how funny is that? Your eyes were all bright and bold behind your lens, only trying to read the printed words in the sweet book that you brought a few days ago. Unfair to you, your friend continuously spat out nonsense about a certain someone. To be honest, you had no care or wonder about this person, you didn’t care if his dick was 50 feet, you just simply weren’t interested.

Being new to a college was like death already. The large buildings, the huge campus that felt like a terrible maze, the shitty yet interesting students. All of it was truly too much for you, a girl who radiated sweet angel energy.

“And they said he got like 40 bodies”

“Anddd that is a walking std..” you muttered this under your breath, flipping the thin page of your book as you breathed in the sweet calming air of the library. Honestly it’s the most comfortable library you’ve ever been in. Nobody was really here, that is, other than you and your lovestruck friend who had her whorish tendencies. However, you judged her not one bit. Sometimes men are just too hot for their own good.

“He is not. I heard he got tested for everything last week.” With confidence boosting from her and her tongue making an appearance to show how excited she was.. it made you laugh. “Girl. That boy got his business practically runnin ‘round here like a roadrunner.” You blurted out, still keeping your quietness to a level. It was quite hard to do so, especially since what she said was so hilarious. This.. Gojo guy really had the bitches after him.

You shall not be one.

That’s what you said in your head when you began leaving the library with your friend. That’s what you thought. There’s just no way a real life guy could compete with the fictional glory of men. When they were written correctly your pussy was like an excited dog, and as the owner of said sex organ, you had to tell her multiple times to sit down. But as stated, you only feel that absorbing need when it’s a fictional man.

So how come the second you see this Satoru Gojo guy walking past the library, your pussy starts leaking? It was far from realistic, it was like a poorly written love at first sight scene. The slow motion occurs, Sakura flower petals are flowing right past you and he’s giving you the most sinister smirk. He might’ve winked at you as well but you did not look hard enough to tell. You just about burnt your heel considering how quickly you turned on it. And if you had pearls they would be clutched in both hands.

Ridiculous it was. That man was over 6 feet tall, his jawline was sculpted by God personally and his eyes were just unreal. This was so unreal that it pissed you off… Not only that, but that was your first encounter with him, though, luckily not your only.

Swallowed up by your thoughts and smutty little brain, you began having some dreams about him. It was quite unfair as well. You weren’t an ugly girl, no, but your confidence with talking to men and the way you portray yourself just wasn’t giving you a great outcome. A hobbit you were, so, every party, every event, you merely stayed away. Those things were filled with horn dogs and cheaters. Not saying you aren’t a horny beast but you could control it.

Besides, while college life is filled with unexpected events, drama, and experiences, you always focus on school itself. Maybe that is why Satoru found you so interesting. It was obvious actually, obvious to everyone but you. See, considering you are new, you do not know Satoru’s character or the way he goes about things. Number one thing he loves doing is making it seem like he’s fairly interested in a girl. Sitting next to her constantly, being all sweet, showing genuine interest in her hobbies… The man was slick in his own twisted ways.

But unfortunately he has met his match.

According to everyone else, you brought the opposite of Gojo Satoru to the school. You were the female angel, sweet and kind, quiet yet attentive. People felt genuine energy flowing from you right into them, and your beauty fit the description of your own character traits. You were that sweet angel that people spoke of. But people still fail to realize that as a teen, Satoru was a sweet angel too. And what happens to all sweet angels? Unforeseen circumstances.

“Liar… Just tell the truth already…” Your pretty eyes glanced around the shabby room filled with boxes of books and some old computers here and there. Today you were tasked by the librarian to switch out some books that were rotting on the shelves. It was a rich Friday, and she always entrusted you to not do anything drastic on Friday. But oh was she wrong this time…

“Okay so I’ve been with aroundddd…. 10, 35…- 60 people. Porn stars got more bodies than me!” There he is in all his stride, attempting to swallow you up in this trap of innocence. With over 60 bodies theres just no way a drop of innocence would even save him. Not to add salt to your wound, but his troublesome, sky blue eyes were watching you intently while you walked around the room. He could notice your slight tremble, your anxiousness and your heat that radiated off you. He knew when a woman wanted him , and he was sure you did.

At first he thought you’d want nothing to do with him. A girl that keeps her bag so deep in her side, filled with books and notebooks for each class? That’s an organizational trait, and that burned him like holy water burning a demon.

“You don’t consider yourself a pornstar by now? You practically fucked every girl in our government class” you might’ve been a bit more on the blunt side, staring into his eyes without a lick of trouble casting. To be frank, Satoru enjoyed the sass from you. It was something he hadn’t experienced, he also enjoyed watching how your sun kissed skin would glow just under a shitty light. He wasn’t falling in love, no, he’s just never had someone like you before. You’re merely a sentence on his checklist.

Fuck y/n till she’s drooling out.

And the only reason you’re even on his sinful checklist is because he simply figures you’re a freak. There’s a premonition he has of you, this creative picture in his mind that he knows is about 80 percent true. For one, you enjoy hiding your physical assets instead of showing them off. Secondly, his glimpses of the front covers of your books has done him well to know that you’re smut crazy. Third, you are quite pretty without makeup.

He wants that.

“Nah.. maybe for you I could be. I’m not taking anything up the ass though” his joke was met with his own slight laughter as he leaned more against the frame of the door. Great, trapping you in here. You had no idea how he even knew you were here. One second he’s drowning in people at a party he threw himself and now he’s here messing with you at 11am. He really wanted to check you off his list…

It made you cringe, but his appearance was nothing to cringe about. He was wearing one of those nice fitting compression shirts, a black one with those forbidden, unspoken, grey sweatpants. Who doesn’t love that..? Who doesn’t love the obvious pole in his pants, all rock hard and just aching for you to play with it. His mischievous little playful smirk started to show while your imaginary scene took over.. He caught you staring at his bulge and that was just game over for you.

That’s before your eyes sharpened, you finger demandingly pointing in his direction.

“I’m not fuckin you Satoru…” you stood your ground, only having those thoughts disperse into thin air. You were serious.

“I’m not fuckin you Satoru~ . That’s what you said to me.. remember~?”

His joking manner made you sick to your stomach, or maybe it was his cocky smirk that revealed his pretty white teeth. Either way, the joke was on you for now. You were the one with a cock deep in your throat. It ached, but your gag reflex was minimal. Satoru took interest in that quickly. He wondered what you did to train it that way…

“Do you go around just sucking dick?.. how come I can fuck your throat-… shit-.. like this?” Satoru will admit, as much as he loved teasing you, a part of him was just a tad bit worried. Your piercing, dark eyes were staring up at him with glossy barriers. And this is while he’s slowly slipping in and out of your throat. He’s never had a girl do such a thing. It made his heart flutter, it made his cock jolt.

“Naughty girl~.. i knew I was right.” He chuckled a bit, mixing with a deep rumble of a moan as he tensed up. He could feel your pretty little pink tongue caressing the underside of his cock. Monster, that’s what you were, especially while your knees burned and stung. No matter to you, all you could think about was making this man crazy about you.

Your chin was drenched in your own saliva, but a satisfied look attached to your face. Satoru stopped rocking his pelvis into your face because he felt himself slipping. As a sex god, there’s no way he’d fail to deliver, especially to a virgin. Then again, with the way his baby blue eyes watched you grip his cock finally.. and start bobbing your head? Satoru felt that hint of heaven he’d never truly experienced.

An electric shock stunned him. “Oh fuck-… this is gonna be fun..” He could barely speak without a groan releasing from his throat, of course it was going to be fun.. But he hasn’t realized that this fun was going to be all yours. He hasn’t fully grasped the concept of you, and that was truly unfortunate. This man’s cock, how pretty and thick it was.. how it had a slight curve… the way it held weight, you loved it. You had to cherish it.

Call it worship, call it using.. you simply couldn’t care, you just enjoyed sucking his cock. You slurped up your saliva that was mixed with his Precum, he tasted a bit too salty but it would do. You spit the naughty substance right back on his cock before slurping it up all over again. Shoving his cock back inside that wet cavern of greatness. That tongue of yours definitely enjoyed his tip more than anything. Swirling it around the pink sensitivity, Gojo could feel his knees buckle. It happened so quickly that he felt like he was going to fall.

Did he want to back out? You were a shitty little demon, he kinda did but he would not back down. He noticed you were a demon when you’d personally slap his weighty dick on your tongue. Only to make a moan slip from your throat when you swallowed him again.. Your throat was so tight, he could feel his stomach turning in knots as he tried absolutely so hard not to hurt you. See, Satoru is known for gripping a girl’s hair but for some odd reason he noticed that you were just a little too precious to his cock for him to hurt you like that.

Besides, he was going brain dead anyway. From being nothing but a whore, he didn’t have much brains anyway, but now he was just gone for good. The room was filled with the gross sounds of gurgling and dry moans that could make your pussy just drip. Speaking of, you were so damn horny that you were using one hand to caress that pretty cock Satoru had.. the other had slid to your nether regions. You played with the pretty, glistening pearl that was between your pussy lips.. completely entranced with sucking on this man’s cock. It shocked Satoru.. he couldn’t believe his eyes.

You were having so much fun.

“Fuck.. stop… shit-.. shit-…” Satoru doesn't really know what happened to him, he doesn’t know if it was your tongue underneath his cock, the slurping, the sucking, or the fact that you were touching yourself at the same time… or maybe it was the moans that vibrates against his cock. All of it was unfair, he didn’t know what it was but he needed to cum… he didn’t want to.

“Damn-…” he repeated, his usual jokes were gone, he couldn’t think of anything or say anything. All he could do was stare into your mischievous eyes as he finally gripped at your hair. Sure it hurt, but you couldn’t think straight either.. you’ll scold him later.

But with such an angelic, sexy moan coming from past his lips, you didn’t know if you could scold him. Especially not with your mouth suddenly being filled with warm, white, sticky cum. It was all so sudden, and it was just as much as the others said. So much came out of him… so much to swallow. That sent Satoru over the edge, that was it… you took first place in sucking him off… but god did he want to rip you off of him. He was overstimulated… and you were still slurping up every drop. Your lips felt like hell to him right now, he was actually jolting.

“Ah-… ah shit.. get off…”Satoru finally caught his breath when you actually did. His cock not yet limp but it was sensitive. But what was more sensitive was his ego, and you were tearing it down by smirking up at him. Fuck, it got his blood boiling. Satoru was not one to get mad and he wasn’t officially mad but he had a smidge of agitation. You really think you could just do that to him? What else did you think you could do?

“You didn’t taste that good but your dick is pretty.” You said bluntly, your angelic facade completely washed away as he leaned back onto a nearby wall. There was absolutely nothing in the room but dusty boxes and a table that would probably fall if you two were to fuck on it. He was still recovering, but he got a thrill just watching you look around.. he just knew you were looking around for a place to fuck.

“You faker… You gotta have about 20 bodies under your belt..” the white haired male spat out, genuinely confused. You slightly rolled your eyes before you started to slowly remove your pants. “Just three.. all previous boyfriends so this is the first time I’m dealin with a guy outside of a relationship..” you admitted, giving him a playful smirk before your pants dropped.. leaving you in your comfy hoodie. But gojo could see.. your body was as beautiful as he knew it to be. “I’m not seeing it. You been with more-..”

“It’s bout’ to feel that way reallll soon”

The way you said that gave him a reason to brace himself. Although, that still wasn’t enough for what was now happening to him. All he could see was a huge, juicy ass bouncing on him as he laid on the cold rustic floor.. Satoru was damn sure happy you were turned the other way, because his eyes… those pretty eyes were just rolling back without hesitation. The second you slid his cock in, it felt like sweet sensations. Those walls were so tight together, like nobody has ever been inside. But, your feet were planted on the floor with ease, and you were just bouncing and bouncing.

The shitty little room you two were in was so empty, so the echoes of your thick ass clapping, was loud. Satoru was damn near afraid you’d break his pelvis from bouncing down like that. But his worries disappeared once he heard those melodies come from your mouth.

“Big ass dick… Course’ you’ll have girls runnin.. but they can’t take it as good as me..” you spoke clear, but your moans were lacing each word. Satoru could understand you, and he could see it with clear eyes. You took his cock like a champ, it disappeared every second into your soaking wet cunt, all brown, sloppy from saliva and Precum. All satoru could do was reach forward and take a tight feel of your ass cheeks. He kind of pulled them just to watch your tight pussy take his pale girth, and your asshole winking at him…

“Damn sure can’t…” Satoru’s words were slurred, this man saw stars in the air as he breathed out shakily. It was hard for him to keep good oxygen in his lungs because you were bouncing it out of him.. The sex was so intense that he was sweating.. and he wasn’t even doing the moving for once. His limbs were sticking to the floor and surely that was unsanitary but all he cared about was your pussy.. oh that pretty thing. The man began to chuckle, feeling like he was loosing it inside your cunt.

How did you know he was losing it? He was trying so hard to keep his moans in, and his toes were damn near crossing over each other.. like he was begging for some help.. he felt betrayed even though he predicted this! He was the one that said you were a secret freak! He was the one that said those smut books probably did you well…

“What the fuck is happening…”

“You gettin harder… that’s cuz you about to cum..”

“No I’m nottt-..” Satoru sounded like he was whining, but he knew his legs weren’t trembling for no reason. You could feel it, your orgasm wasn’t truly there yet but you hoped he was getting there. You needed to teach him a lesson. “I’m so gonna fuck you till you-” poor thing couldn’t even finish his sentence. He choked up, all while he felt the bell being hit. That last bounce you gave him was enough for the snake to take his breath away. His moan almost sounded inhuman, rugged as he splashed his cum in your pretty kitty.

He couldn’t even pull out, he had no time to do that. That wasn’t even an option…

“Till I what?.. finish your sentence..” you teased him, slowly slipping him from your death grip of a pussy. He watched the white substance drip from your hole and it just put him on alert. His cock was still standing, and that’s what amazed you. “Till my buddy goes down..” Satoru breathed out, realizing it was just not budging. He knew he had to fuck you.. and from what all you just did to him? He had to ruin you… and the second you proposed yourself to him? Your pretty ass in the air with that perfect arch slightly covered by that obnoxious hoodie?

“You’re a faker…”

It just had him stunned… he should’ve known when you took of your glasses before sucking him off.. he should’ve known when you’d speak so bluntly. How come he was so right but it was still unpredictable?

“You’re just-.. too good..” he whispered, getting right behind your plush ass. He almost felt like he was torturing his cock by slipping it back inside that warmth of yours..his cum mixed with your juices started gushing around his cock, dripping down his balls…

“I’m gonna tap out again, man…”

ⓒ Monstas1ut, do not copy

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Tongue Tied✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

A/N: This just came out of nowhere when I was eating cherries, so here we are 😂 I was going to post this one later, but it was just sitting in my drafts.

Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller, finds you in the kitchen eating some cherries. For your birthday, he gives you something that’ll make you a little tongue tied.

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Word Count: 3.1k

Tags: Smut, flirting, teasing, eating cherries, age gap (reader is 24, Joel is 51), oral receiving (fem), fingering, dirty talk, sneaking around, switching POVs

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  The air is warm as the summer breeze blows through the open window of the lit up kitchen. After a night of celebrating your twenty-fourth birthday, your parents decided to throw you a surprise barbecue. A few of your friends came, a couple of the neighbors meandered around the backyard, but one certain person was here that set your core on fire. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, his favorite fishing buddy. 

   Joel was hot, like extremely hot. And not to mention he was fifty-one. Twice your age and off limits, but that made it that much more fun to tease him. 

   He’s in his signature blue flannel shirt today, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to expose strong arms and tanned skin, large veins threading down his forearms, and large meaty hands that could probably split you in two. His dark jeans hug his strong thighs, and his tousled grey speckled hair is slicked back just begging to be played with. 

   You can’t lie that you dream about him at night, can’t pretend you don’t imagine your fingers are his own that slip inside your dripping core and talk you through your orgasm. Attagirl. Say my name. Yeah, jus’ like that, sweetheart. Such a good fuckin’ girl.

   You bet he’s the best kisser, bet his tongue can take you to places that your fingers never could. You imagine his dark smoldering eyes all blown out and wide, his grey threaded beard tickling against your neckline while his tongue slides against your glistening skin. It’s only a dream, a fantasy your mind has conjured up to fill some void. But you’re determined to win him over one way or another. He will be yours.

   And it’s not like he’s completely innocent. You’ve seen him catch your eye once or twice, have caught him checking you out when you wore that pink bikini to the pool a few weeks ago. He can pretend all he wants, but the man fantasizes about you, too. 

   You sigh and pick another cherry from the big bowl sitting on the ceramic kitchen counter, popping it into your mouth as the sweet flavor slides down your throat. You lean against the counter and pull your short yellow dress down, the material barely grazing your tanned thighs. 

   You pop another cherry into your mouth and enjoy the quiet kitchen, taking just a few moments to pull yourself together until you have to go back outside. You’re sure they’re looking for you, but you had to get away from the heat of Joel’s smoldering stare. 

   Another minute goes by until you hear boots scuffing against the tiled floor. When you look up from under your long lashes, you freeze in place and gulp down the cherry that almost gets stuck in your throat. There he is, Joel Miller. Just standing and leaning against the doorway, brown eyes locked on yours. 

   “What’re you doin’ in here? Your dad’s lookin’ for ya out in the back,” Joel says across the kitchen.

   “Couldn’t come get me himself so he sent you instead? What a good friend you are.” You roll your eyes, one eyebrow raising in question while you see him scoff under his breath. 

   “Don’t be a brat. He’s busy makin’ burgers. Jus’ asked if I could come find ya.”

   “Well, you found me.” You lean into the counter and pick out another plump cherry. 

   “C’mon then. Get out there.” He nods his head towards the backyard and crosses his large arms over his broad chest. 

   “Can’t you see I’m busy?” You pop the cherry into your mouth and twirl the stem in between your fingers, keeping your eyes locked carefully on his. 

   He huffs out annoyed, pinching the bridge of his nose  while he makes his way across the kitchen, stopping on the opposite side of the counter as he leans against it and keeps his arms tight across his chest. “Yeah, real busy over there. Those cherries must be real good if they’ve got you locked in the kitchen.” His eyes flick to the glass bowl as you plop another one out from the batch. 

   “Sooo good.” You take your tongue and lick up the side of the cherry, pushing it into your mouth as you throw the stem on the edge of the counter. 

   He watches you chew, gulping down saliva as he focuses in on your red glossy lips. He thinks you look so gorgeous in your little yellow sundress, thinks your lips might taste just like those cherries. Savory, sweet, delicious. A thought that’s crossed his mind more than once before.

   He shouldn’t be in here alone with you, shouldn’t even stare while you lick your plush lips and devour the fresh cherries all seductively in front of him. He can picture you down on your knees, your tongue gliding over the tip of his throbbing cock, his fingers fisting the back of your hair while he fucks your pretty little mouth with his thick cock. He wants to hear those melodic moans out of your mouth, needs to get his mouth on your pretty pink pussy, would love to throw you on top of his bed sheets while he fucks you till he fills you with hot ropes of cum. 

   He’s a bad man for thinking of his best friend’s daughter like that, but he can’t help wanting something he can’t technically have. You’re off limits to him and so much younger, but he doesn’t give a shit. 

   He sees the way you’ve been teasing him. Walking around in those short skirts that barely cover your curvy ass and brushing your fingertips against his arms with every chance you get. He’s not a stupid man, he knows what you’re doing. But he won’t dare try to stop you. He likes the tease, loves the thought of you pining over him, and maybe one day he’ll finally teach you a lesson of what happens to naughty girls that just don’t know when to quit.

   “Stop that,” he demands, watching you lick your lips slowly while you swallow a cherry. 

   “Stop what?” you ask innocently. 

   “Stop teasin’ me.” His eyes are narrowed, jaw clenched as his eyes follow your tongue licking across the fresh fruit. 

   “Make me,” you smirk. You swallow the cherry whole and tap your manicured fingernails against the counter top, challenging him to make a move. 

   He clenches his fingers into a tight fist, sliding his tongue against the inside of his cheek, his eyes darkening as his nostrils flare in anger. He’s mad, furious that you’re making him this frazzled. He can’t ignore the hardening cock that stiffens against the denim of his jeans. All because you’re a fucking tease. 

   You pop your hip out and play with the cherry stem in between your fingers, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously at the handsome man that can barely control himself around you. “You know, they say if you can tie a knot with your tongue with a cherry stem that means you’re a good kisser,” you smirk. 

   “Is that right, darlin’?” he asks all intrigued, leaning forward as his dark eyes hone in on you. 

   “Mhm. Read a thing or two about it,” you giggle. 

   “Show me.” His voice comes out deep, gravelly as he leans against the counter and crosses his arms. It doesn’t come out as a response but a demand loud and clear. 

   You smirk his way and nod. You pop the cherry stem in your mouth and get to work. Your tongue twists and turns, working hard to get just the right angle with the stem. Joel watches you eagerly, his eyes blowing wide while his nostrils flare aggressively. You know he’s hard behind his jeans, and you’re dying to see just how massive he is. 

   When you finally feel the tiny knot in the stem, you open your mouth and reach in, grabbing the wet end with your fingertips. You hold it up and sure enough you did it. Right in the middle it’s tied in a tight knot. You knew you could do it. 

   Joel smirks your way, smoldering eyes glazed in a trance as he flicks them up and down your body seductively. Oh, he’s impressed and turned on. Look at the mess you’ve made. 

   “Color me impressed, sweetheart. That’s a neat talent you got there. What else can you do with that tongue?” he asks with a devilish grin curling against his big lips. 

   “Why don’t you come find out?” you taunt him. 

   He’s on you in less than a minute, large hands holding your hips against the counter while his hard cock digs into your thigh. You’re breathless, breathing in the scent of his mahogany cologne and his fresh soap smell while his dark eyes bleed into yours.

   “Careful with that pretty mouth, darlin’. I don’t think you realize what you’re gettin’ yourself into,” he warns, blown eyes making slick build in your lacy panties. 

   “No? I think I do,” you smirk. 

   “Shouldn’t be playin’ games with your dad’s best friend, sweetheart. Could get ya into trouble,” he tsks, clicking his tongue will his thick fingers dig into the material of your skimpy dress. 

   “So get me into trouble, Mr. Miller,” you whisper, enticing him to make a move as your hand drags down to where his hard cock is skimming across your thigh. 

   He’s on you then, his warm mouth pressing firmly against yours as his hands slowly slide your dress up. The kiss is messy, hot, uncontrolled as one of his hands fist the back of your curls. You part your mouth open and invite him in, letting him slot his tongue inside your panting mouth. 

   Your fingers slide through his tousled curls, pulling a low groan from his throat while his tongue licks feverishly inside your mouth. You could drown in his coffee taste, get lost in his lush locks with his teeth nipping at your skin. This was better than you imagined, better than your wildest dreams.

   He slides his calloused thumb against your drenched lace, finding your buzzing clit as he draws meticulous circles over and over. You moan into his mouth, panting his name as his fingers set your core on fire. 

   “Yeah? You like that, little tease?” he chuckles darkly, nipping against your bottom lip as another moan leaves your lips. 

   “Yes, fuck yes,” you say through clenched teeth. 

   “Mmm. Dirty girl wants her daddy’s best friend to finger fuck her, is that right?” he teases, sliding his fingers inside your lace and gliding through your damp folds, his fingers curling up into your dripping hole.

   You part your lips and moan, twisting your fingers tightly through his messy curls. “Fuck, Joel. Please, please. Want you to… ohhh,” you moan, melting into a puddle as his thick fingers hit that spongy spot that you can never reach yourself. 

   “That’s what I thought,” he chuckles. 

   His mouth finds neck, sucking against your collarbone as his free hand squeezes one of your perky breasts. He elicits another moan from you, the wet noises of his fingers fucking into you floating around the room, the obscene sounds making him groan against the shell of your ear. 

   Before you know what happens he releases his fingers from your core and grabs your hips firmly, hoisting you up on the edge of the counter while he pulls the ruined lace down your legs and drops them to the tiled floor. You let out a squeak, watching the way he spreads your legs and pulls you to the edge, hungry eyes eating you alive. 

   “Gonna need you to be quiet, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” he asks through gritted teeth, like he’s holding himself back from dragging you to his mouth. 

   “Mhm,” you hum, out of breath while more slick pools in between your thighs. “Joel, please,” you beg. 

   “Ain’t gotta beg, baby girl. Gonna take good care of this pretty pussy,” he purrs. 

   He wastes no time as he licks a thick stripe up your folds, lathering you in the wetness of his warm tongue. You throw your head back and grip the edge of the counter while he settles your legs over his shoulders. 

   He places his meaty hands around the backs of your thighs and starts to make out with your pussy. His tongue divides your folds, licking up inside your drenched hole and makes his way up to your puffy clit. He draws meticulous circles over your aching bundle of nerves, eliciting low moans that fall off the tip of your tongue. 

   You tangle your hands through his smooth locks, hear him grunt while he pulls your buzzing mound into his warm mouth. “Oh my God, Joel,” you whine. 

   “Yeah? Like the sound of you moaning my name, sweetheart. Say it again,” he demands as he plunges two thick fingers into your gushing core, watching slick slide down his hand while he’s knuckles deep in you. 

   You moan it again and again and again, watching his blown out eyes stare up at you menacingly, mouth feasting on your drool coated pussy. He finger fucks you swiftly, curling his fingers to hit that spongy spot over and over again, his deft tongue gliding against your throbbing clit until you’re right on the edge. 

   Your walls clench against his fingers, mouth chanting his name dreamily while he gets you right where you need to be. 

   “Come for me, sweetheart. Drench these fingers with that sweet, sticky cum. Be a good girl now,” he purrs, licking against your warm core. 

   He pulls your bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucks hard, rutting his thick fingers against the sweetest spongy spots that takes you to the finish line. You throw your head back and moan his name, feeling the white hot heat slide down the back of your spine. 

   “Attagirl. Look at you spill, goddamn” he growls, licking your spilling slick between your thighs and working his fingers in and out of your core, making sure to get every single drop of cum from your center. 

   He talks you through it, licking you clean as he works you through your intense orgasm, massaging your thighs until your breathing is back to normal. He slides your panties back up your thighs, covering your ruined pussy while he pulls your skirt back over your thighs.

   He stands up between your legs and circles your hips with his meaty hands, whispering sweet incantations in the shell of your ear. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. Hope you liked your present.” 

   He gives you a quick kiss to your lips, letting you taste your own release on the tip of your tongue along with the delicious taste of him. 

   You wrap your arms around his neck loosely, not yet wanting him to leave the room without you tucked into his side. “Joel,” you murmur through a warm daze.

   “Hmm?” He knits his eyebrows into a tight line and looks at you with clouded brown eyes.

   “Can we do that again?” you ask with big sappy eyes full of hope.

   He huffs out, groaning through his teeth as his wide eyes stay locked on yours. “You want to do that again?” he asks, licking his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. 

   “Mhm,” you nod, smiling over at him. “Next time I want you to fuck me, and I want to suck your cock.”

   He chokes on his own saliva and chuckles out, shaking his head as he tightens his grip on your hips. “Jesus Christ. You’re gonna be a handful, ain’t ya?”

   “You know I am.” You giggle and push your fingers through his messy curls, adjusting it so it doesn’t look like he just went down on you. 

   He shakes his head and sighs, helping you off the spotless counter top. His fingertips hover over your back, hands pressing against your sweating skin while his lips hang dangerously close to your mouth. “You messy girl. What am I gonna do with ya, huh?” he smiles, tracing his thumb over your lower lip.

   “Guess you just have to keep me,” you shrug, smiling blissfully at the man of your dreams.

   “Maybe I will, sweetheart. Maybe I will.”

   He curls a strand of hair behind your ear and trails his lips against your cheek, mouth closing in on yours. Your breath hitches and body comes alive just waiting for his lips to be back on yours. Suddenly, the back door is swinging up and heavy footsteps are coming through the kitchen entryway.

   You and Joel jump apart, your heart in your throat and adrenaline coursing through your blood. “There you two are. Was wondering where you were,” your dad shouts, his loud voice killing the heat of the moment. 

   “Sorry, bud. Your daughter here was just showin’ me how good these cherries were,” Joel says calmly. He grabs a cherry from the bowl and pops it in his mouth, winking your way before he exits the kitchen with your dad. 

   You stand there breathlessly, not believing what just happened. Joel just kissed you, finger fucked you, and ate you out in the middle of the kitchen where anyone could’ve walked in and saw. You were walking on thin ice, but you’d happily do it all over again.

   You readjust your dress and smooth down your messy locks, making sure your lipstick isn’t all smudged down your chin. Once you make sure you look like you hadn’t just been fucked, you make your way outside into the backyard. 

   Your friends crowd around the inground pool while your folks and neighbors sit around on some lounge chairs, sipping on lemonade and eating hamburgers off plastic plates. You find an empty chair next to your friend, Nikki, and act as if you were completely normal. Nothing was normal about today, though. Not after what just happened in the kitchen with Joel Miller. The hottest neighbor that had walked into your dad’s life three years ago. Guess he always had a thing for you secretly, you just didn’t know it till this year.

   Your eyes flick across the lawn and you find Joel staring at you, nursing a beer down with his lips around the flute of the bottle. His honey brown eyes find yours, and you gasp when you see a smudge of red lipstick smeared across the collar of his blue flannel. You giggle at the sight of it, snickering to yourself as you join in on a conversation about your weekend plans. 

   Guess you left your mark on him after all. 

[jesuistrestriste]

thinking about preacher's son patrick asking you to hurt him as punishment for his sins.

he doesn't know how to deal with his desire for you. it was easier to pray it alway when it was only his imagination, but now that he had you in his hands it's impossible to forget.

he tries anyway.

he starts ignoring you in church, refusing to talk properly or even meet your gaze. he know that if he does he won't be able to resist you.

it's so tempting to surrender to your sweet words, to your longing eyes begging for his attention, but he can't bear the guilt that spreads through him like a disease when it all ends and he doesn't have the comfort of your touch anymore.

it works for a while. until it doesn't.

the next time you see eachother in chruch after the service is done, you don't give him any chance to escape you. he tries dismissing you, but you take his hands in yours and look directly into his eyes. it's enought to make him loose his composure. he listens to you.

you end up in a empty confessional with him on his knees desperately asking you to hit him, to make him feel something other then the excruciating desire he feels for you. he's willing to hate your guts if it means it will all go away.

he needs you to purge it out of him.

when you finally slap him the sound is strident. the same hand that held his before. you remain silent, waiting for him to say something, but he only breaths heavily, avoiding your gaze. the tension is palpable, you don't know what to do, you're afraid that this is the end, that he'll never talk to you again. but then he looks at you. he looks at you and his eyes don't lie. he liked it. you're not surprised when he speaks up with, voice hoarse

"again..."

it only made it worse.

ermm i got a litle carried away, hope this isn't too bad, i avoided putting any real dialogue because i'm not very good with it 😵‍💫 but yeah i loved your preacher's son patrick fic <3

oh gosh i love this so much. i love impact play with patrick, especially a guilty patrick.

his hands on your knees, his fingers splaying out over your clothed joints as he looks up to your eyes and breathes out a shaky “hit me again”.

so you do. you bring your palm down across his freckled cheek and revel in the way his skin welts, red and stinging, in the shape of your handprint. his head snaps to the side with the force of your slap, and his eyes roll back as he processes the pain and the wetness beginning to gather in his eyes.

“more.”

you hit him again.

“i deserve it.”

again.

again, again, again.

he squeezes his eyes shut with a broken sob and grips your thighs, tears finally rolling pitifully down his flushed face. he chokes on a moan and then blinks his gaze back open to look up to yours.

“i deserve it, don’t i? i need it, i need to look at you and only think of pain, or else ill—..” he trails off, shoving one of his hands down between his shaking legs to dull the hot ache that’s throbbing throughout his veins without his permission. he leans forward and lets his inflamed cheek rest over your leg. he hisses softly through a clenched jaw at the initial flash of discomfort, and then melts into your body. he’s begging you to push him away. to grab him by his head of dark brown hair and tell him to get lost, like he’s nothing more than a dirty stray on the street.

but he knows you won’t. and that’s what makes him cave.

he lazily drags his soft, pink lips up your leg, his flesh catching on the dry fabric. then he bites at the waistband of your bottoms.

“i’m sorry.. i’m sorry, i’m sorry.. let me prove how sorry i am.. let me touch you..”

[obae-me]

Physical insecurities the brothers have that I would absolutely adore (because while perfectly immaculate, chiseled demons are... fine... they are also... in my honest humble opinion, quite bland).

Including ideas of my own body headcanons:

Lucifer:

The feathery grey strands that never seem to ever go away no matter how much he uses magic or simple drugstore box dye. I would stroke them between my fingers and tell him how dignified they looked while rubbing my thumb over the worry lines embedded between his brows from furrowing them so much. When they're too prominent from stress I would plant a kiss between his eyes.

Mammon:

The patches of different colored skin across his body. I would run my hand over them and trace the line where the different shades of brown and gold and tan and pale meet, trying not to tease him too much when the touch across his ribs makes him giggle. I'd tell him everyday that the pictures don't do him full justice, he's even more breathtaking in person.

Levi:

The plush to his thighs that splay out when he sits and the stretch marks that are the same hue as his hair. I would gladly rest my head in his lap while he played his games, keeping myself from giving them a squeeze if it makes him uncomfortable, all the while telling him how lovely he is.

Satan:

The bones that stick out prominently in his sides and shoulders and his ankles that resemble the sharpness to his tail despite his best attempts to keep some cushion on them. I would hold him softly and run my finger along his features and remind him that despite his supposed sharpness, he is still perfect to cuddle.

Asmo:

The blemishes and freckles he tries to keep covered up with makeup. They dot and march over his cheeks and nose, across his forearms and over the backs of his hands. I would take the time over eternities to touch each one individually and remind him every day why, where I grew up, we called them angel kisses.

Beel:

The scars and wounds that cover his body from the war and his skirmishes during his sports games. He fears it shows a sign of his many weaknesses, while I would caress each one with tenderness and ensure him that they're each a hint into his unwavering strength, proof of how's he's standing here despite it all.

Belphie:

The dark circles under and around his eyes that never fade no matter if he sleeps for one hour or a hundred in a row. Even if he hides them behind messy long hair, I would still see them and love them. It's the shining light in his eyes that has me stare, not the dark circles. He's not consumed in as much darkness as he imagines.

[dollfacefantasy]

End of the Night

pairing: mafia!leon kennedy x reader

summary: leon comes home late from a job. he finds comfort in his pregnant wife who's fast asleep.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, somnophilia, pregnancy, mentions of blood and violence and typical crime stuff

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hey besties. here you go. hope everyone enjoys. if you're interested, check out my ko-fi. i appreciate the support you all give me oh so much. mwah <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld

Another late night. The car rumbles as it pulls into the driveway. He shuts it off and sits there for a moment, taking in the quiet of the neighborhood street. Moonlight illuminates his bruised knuckles and bloody sleeves. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, the skin beneath the dried crimson liquid turns white. A deep sigh seeps out of his lungs. 

He runs a hand through his dusty brown hair and looks in the rear view mirror, seeing his tired eyes looking back at him. He’d been meaning to get it cut, but he’d been busy as of late.

“It’s getting shaggy,” you’d tease him while scratching his scalp with your manicured nails. Then you’d lean in close and give him a big kiss on the cheek. “It looks good.”

You. His beautiful, darling wife. The greatest pride of his life. Only a few rooms apart, tucked away safe inside.

He lets out another sigh as he thinks of you, but this time it’s a breath of longing rather than exhaustion. You were why he was out here, cooling off. He’d promised himself since the day you got married those years ago, he wouldn’t let this affect you. Wouldn’t even let you get close to this side of him.

All the windows of the house are dark. He knows you’re asleep, curled up under one of the many plush blankets he’d gotten you. Face pressed into the silk pillowcase, your soft breaths drifting through the bedroom.

The mental picture brings a smile to his face instinctively. It quickly fades though as he looks down and crashes back to reality. Blood covered his suit, soaked into the fabric. He knew he’d have to just throw it away. He wouldn’t even bother asking you to wash this one.

He gets out of the car, careful to shut the door quietly. Walking up the stone path to your house, past the pristine lawn, he jams his key into the front door. The air in the house is so much warmer than the chill outside. It hits him in a rush, making his face feel numb. He slips his shoes off by the door, something you always asked him to do after one night when he had tracked remnants of some unfortunate guy all over the bedroom carpet.

Sometimes coming into the house almost made him unsettled. It was as if he still couldn’t believe it was his. That was how he felt about you too. Sure, he’d always expected to get married, but he never thought it’d be like this. Never thought he’d be happy.

He walks across the entryway and heads up the spiraling staircase, passing pictures of the two of you hung on the walls. When he reaches the bedroom, he sees exactly what he suspected. Even though he expected it, the sight of you fast asleep didn’t melt his heart any less. It filled his chest with warmth and made his head feel loopy with how much he adored you. The worst thing he could imagine was coming home and finding that bed empty. Whether you left or someone took you, he didn’t want to ever think about either. That was why he was always so careful. So that would never happen.

He pads across the room to your side of the bed and looks at your sleeping form with love in its most raw state. The kind that made him ache. He strokes your head and smooths your hair out. A light kiss lands on your forehead before he leans down and kisses your belly, swollen with his child.

More than anything on this earth, he wants to crawl into bed with you and do all that lovey dovey shit until the sun comes up. But he knew he needed to shower, not wanting to even imagine the disgust on your face if you woke up to his clothing, blotted red with blood, pressed to your skin.

He goes into the bathroom, making sure to be as close to silence as possible. He cringes when he turns the shower on, and just hopes the noise of the rushing water isn’t enough to wake you.

The next step in this little routine is taking out one of the disposable bags you now stored under the sink for nights like this. He peels off his suit and stuffs it into the plastic before dropping it in the trash. He’d take it out tomorrow.

He gives his body a once over in the mirror, looking at the stained and scarred skin before stepping into the shower. The hot water feels damn near euphoric on the taut muscles in his back. He lets out a muted groan. It sprays down on him and dampens his hair, the locks transforming from their lightened shade to a deeper brown. 

The white tile surrounding the drain turns red as the marks from work get washed away. He uses the little scrubby thing you bought him, making sure all of it is really gone. Washing his hair too, he uses some of your shampoo tonight just for your scent.

He can feel the pressure dissolving in his shoulders and the tight coils in his back beginning to unwind. He no longer feels like a live wire. The hot tension in his neck melts and rolls down his back, pooling in his belly. The heat of stress evolves into the warmth of desire.

When he’s finally done in the shower, he gets out and wraps a towel around his waist. Water droplets roll down his chest as he dries his hair. He then takes care of his other getting-ready-for-bed tasks and comes into the bedroom. He pulls on some flannel pajama pants and turns to his bed, ready to finally lay with his stunning wife and hold you till he passes out.

But when he looks over at you, that warmth that collected within him starts to bubble up into a boil. You had shifted positions, kicked the covers off so that you were much more exposed. It wasn’t unusual for you. The fact that it was freezing out now didn’t stop your body from heating up like a furnace while you slept. It started when you first fell pregnant, and while it caused you great discomfort, Leon secretly enjoyed it, infatuated with the warm, soft feeling of you against him in the night.

You were wearing a baby pink nighty he’d bought for you. It barely held your breasts which had just started to fill out more a few weeks ago. The lower part of the dress bunched up around your waist just below your bump, letting him see the matching panties you had on. He nearly drools as he imagines your lush thighs around his head, locking his face against that fabric.

God, and the final straw, your sweet, precious face. So clueless, not the slightest idea that your husband was a few feet away, leering at you. Slightly parted lips, twitching lashes, those cute round cheeks. It was too much. He had to do something even if it risked disturbing your slumber.

He had already drifted to the foot of the king-sized bed in his lustful stupor. Kneeling on the mattress, he leans forward and crawls to his target. One hand scoops up one of your legs, placing it on his shoulder. The other does the same to your second leg. It was just as he’d imagined, that familiar engulfing heat against his cheeks, around his neck.

Flat on his stomach, he brings his head in. His thumbs hook on your nightgown to slide it up a little more, resting it on the peak of your bump. His lips meet your clothed pussy in a gentle kiss. He then takes a deep breath, inhaling his favorite smell.

He trails some more kisses up the fabric to the level of your clit. The cloth gathers wet splotches from his saliva. Before removing the garment, he nuzzles your center, dragging his nose upwards against the silk.

Everything about you was soft, tender. From your voice as you spoke to the way you looked at him with love pooling in your eyes. His refuge from everything else, the blood, the betrayal, the guilt.

He loops his finger under the strip of fabric that conceals your cunt from him. After tugging them down, his eyes train on your folds. He locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer, smothering himself with you. Closing his eyes, he gets to work.

He delves his tongue between the velvety skin and licks stripes upward. His tongue draws skillful patterns on you and swirls around your clit before taking the sensitive bud between his lips to suck on it.

And there it is. You squirm ever so slightly. Your hips shift, but he keeps them pinned down in place. A small grunt leaves you and a smirk rises to his lips. So sweet, his innocent girl, never the wiser. 

In waking life, he wished he could keep you so blissfully unaware. Obviously, you weren’t privy to how deep the darkness of his work went. You had a basic idea though, and that was too much for his taste. You didn’t deserve to know any of that stuff even existed. He wanted to shield you from all of it. Just let you live like a princess in a castle without wondering how he could afford to give you that castle in the first place.

He shoos his concerns away by burying himself further in your cunt. He flicks his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves in rapid succession, applying pressure with his gentle sucking. A sense of satisfaction comes over him as he feels your slick beginning to coat his chin. He increases his efforts and flattens his tongue on your clit before going back down and working it into your hole.

He laps every drop of you he can, groaning at the taste. His arms squeeze tighter around your thighs, and he takes a deeper breath of that heady scent. He’s so laser focused on your pussy, he doesn’t fully register the moans beginning to spill from your lips.

Finally, he perks up when he hears possibly his favorite sound in the entire world.

“Leon?” you whimper, your voice soft and shaky with arousal.

He groans again, opening his mouth now to make out with your cunt. His tongue massages you and works inside you again.

“S’ok, baby, everything’s ok. Keep having those pretty dreams,” he mumbles into the junction of your thighs.

He doubts you could even hear that at the volume he spoke it, but he’s back to work anyways. Your squirming is getting more frequent as the coils of pleasure tighten within you. Your legs shift around in a futile attempt to alleviate the disruption to your rest.

More wetness collects between your legs, mixing with his spit and making your folds slippery. It’s the best feeling ever to him, he just can’t get enough. That smooth, slick skin. Your warm, plush thighs. He’d do this all day if he could. Any stress he’d had from work was as dead as the guy who’s blood had ruined his suit.

With one particular stroke of his tongue, you rouse from sleep. Your legs tighten around his head with a few conscious whimpers. You lift your head and look down at the mop of hair working at the apex of your thighs. You lazily run your fingers through the locks.

“What are you doing?” you mumble, your voice a little whiny from the nonstop ministrations to your cunt. Your head falls back to the pillow with a soft gasp.

“I think it’s obvious what I’m doing, sweetheart,” he teases before continuing.

“Bad day?” you rasp.

“No. Now shhh. Let me make you feel good, honey,” he says simply.

While Leon loved talking to you, he couldn’t eat you out till you were trembling if he was using his mouth for anything else. He returns his full attention to your pussy, devoting all his energy to getting you to that peak.

Your moans are louder now, becoming higher pitched as sparks of ecstasy fly inside you. The sheets gather and twist around your body as you writhe on the mattress. Toes curling as moon light shines through the curtains in your bedroom, you suck in a hushed gasp as his fingers slide inside you with ease.

You’re so sensitive from your condition that it only takes a few gentle pumps and scissoring motions of his fingers to have you dangling from that pleasurable edge. Your hips try to buck, but again, his palms have you secure, right where he wants you.

“Fuck… Leon. I- I- babe, I’m gonna-” you whimper while your breathing becomes more labored.

“Come on, babydoll,” he nearly growls, “You can do it. Cum for me. All over my face.”

Strained cries rise in your throat, your hips rhythmically rolling into the pleasure he provides. Not one to ever resist him, it’s only moments later that you do as he says, the band of euphoria inside you snapping.

He works you through it, not stopping his tongue or fingers. Your moans are deep and loud. There was no reason to be concerned with volume so you let the sounds fill the bedroom and spill into the hall. Wet noises bloom from the bottom of the bed as your release coats Leon’s fingers.

Not wanting to waste anything, he laps up every drop of you that he can. His tongue makes broad strokes over your cunt, and even as you begin coming down, he doesn’t let up right away. You squeal and squirm as your high overflows. Your feet weakly kick at his shoulder to signal it’s too much.

“Leon… can’t take it… fuck,” you whine and claw at each side of the pillow behind your head.

Normally, he’d keep going. Mouth would be latched on to your pussy for the next hour at least. Swirling circles around that pretty clit until you were crying and had gone hoarse. But right now, you’re carrying his baby. Your days are hard enough, and the last thing he wants is to be the cause of any discomfort for you.

He forces himself off of you, panting as he disconnects and pushes himself up. Looking up at you, his eyes are blown out with love. You roll on to your side, stretching your sleepy limbs as you slip back into the state of relaxation you were in before he’d woken you. He watches you, adoring the way your mouth widens into a yawn as he crawls up the bed to slot himself behind you.

Curling up against your warm body, he lets out a hum of satisfaction. He places a few tender kisses on your neck and behind your ear. His fingers run through your hair and stroke it back from your face in soothing motions.

“My pretty little wife,” he whispers.

Now you hum in satisfaction. Your hand finds his which was on your belly, rubbing your bump. You gently squeeze it before lifting it to your lips and kissing each one of his bruised knuckles. It was something you’d done hundreds of times at this point in your relationship, but it was never any less special to him.

“How’re my girls tonight?” he murmurs and places more kisses on the side of your head.

“We’ve been good,” you answer softly, voice becoming sleepy again already, “Well, she has. She’s just like her dad. Been kicking ass inside my stomach all night.”

Your eyes are closed, but it’s as if you can see the grin on Leon’s face. “She can act like me all she wants as long as she’s as cute as her mother,” he breathes with a peck to your temple.

No matter how many times he’d say things like that to you, you could never fight the heat that rose to your cheeks and the smile that broke out on your face. You turn and connect his lips in one final kiss before you settle into the pillows to sleep again.

He just watches you, the best way for him to unwind at the end of the day. When he looks at you it’s easier to remember that while tomorrow’s gonna be another day in his life full of gunshots and corpses, it’s also gonna be another one he spends with you, spends waiting for that perfect baby in your belly.

[v6quewrlds]

imagine a disaster date with justin (feat. vet!reader).

author's note⠀⁎⠀late b-day post? inspired by this ask.

The click of her heels punched a rhythmic echo as she scrambled to the front door. Her hands brushed over her dress, praying Justin wouldn't notice her sweaty palms. She took a deep breath before turning the knob, inhaling the faint scent of jasmine from the potted plant by the door.

"Hey," she murmured delicately. "You're early."

Justin's eyes sparkled as he took in the vision before him. "Not too early, I hope," he replied, the light from the porch lamp highlighting her brown skin and giving her a soft glow. "Couldn't wait to see you." He leaned in to kiss her cheek, his hand gently brushing against the waist of her dress.

He drew her in for a hug, his strong arms wrapping around her waist. She felt the warmth of his embrace and allowed herself to melt into it, her nervousness fading. "You look stunning," he said, his voice rumbling from his chest and into her ears. Shyly, she parted her lips to thank him, her eyes dropping to the floor.

As they pulled apart, she noticed his polished appearance, a noticeable contrast from his typically casual attire. "You clean up nice," she quipped, trying her hand at a playful tone.

Justin's cheeks tinted a faint pink. "What do you think?" he asked with a wide smile. A navy blue sport coat hugged his broad shoulders, a pale blue collared shirt peeking out beneath, brown dress shoes shining in the soft porch light.

"I think you look amazing," she said with a genuine smile, feeling a flutter in her chest. "Let me grab my purse."

The restaurant had been picked by Justin. A newly opened upscale place with a reputation for being exclusive and romantic. The kind of place where the lights were dim and the music was a soft whisper that didn't interrupt the conversation. The food was supposed to be an art form, and the service was supposed to be impeccable. But tonight, it seemed like Edward Murphy himself had decided they needed humbling.

The hostess had been standoffish, the wine list overwhelming, the appetizer unappetizing, and now, as the waiter stumbled over their conversation, a crimson splash of Merlot spilled down the front of her dress, coating her chest and sticking to her skin. She gasped, the fabric soaking up the rich color like a sponge. The room stalled, the chatter and clinking silverware hushing around them. She felt the heat of embarrassment rush to her cheeks as the smell of wine filled her nose.

Justin swore he could see the air thicken with tension as the waiter fumbled his apologies. He took a step back, reaching for a napkin to try to dab at the stain, but the damage was done. The plush fabric of her dress was now marred with a dark splotch, standing out against the soft crème color like a beacon of disappointment.

"It's okay," she murmured, her voice shaking slightly. She took the napkin from him, trying to blot at the wine, but it only served to spread the stain further. Justin's eyes met hers, and he could tell she was fighting back tears. "Excuse me," she whispered lowly, rising from her seat. "I need to use the bathroom."

Her retreat was swift, and the moment she disappeared through the restroom door, the room's buzz returned. Justin sighed, chewing his bottom lip. The evening was supposed to be perfect, a chance for them to get to know each other better under the dim lights and a veil of romance. But instead, it was falling apart.

The waiter hovered anxiously beside the table, his eyes darting between the stain and Justin's furrowed brow. "Sir, I'm so sorry," he stuttered.

Justin took a deep breath. "It's fine, just…could I have the check, please?" His voice remained calm, but there was an edge to it that made the waiter nod hastily and retreat.

As he waited for the check, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the evening pressing down on him. Perhaps the night's nosedive stung more when Justin remembered the excitement in her words when she mentioned spoiling herself with a new dress for this date.

When she emerged, her eyes were slightly red-rimmed but dry. She took her seat again, avoiding eye contact with the other patrons, who had surely noticed her hasty exit. She gave him a forced smile, her eyes revealing her fight to keep it together, to save face. The check came quickly, and Justin didn't bother to look at the total. He just wanted to get her out of there.

"Let's go," he said gently, reaching across the table to take her hand. He could feel the tremble in her fingers, but she squeezed back, a silent acknowledgment that she was ready to leave this disaster behind.

Justin led her to the passenger side of his sleek, black car, his eyes apologetic. "I'm so sorry," he said as he closed the door behind him once he was behind the wheel. "This wasn't how I imagined tonight going at all."

She offered a weak smile. "It's okay, really." But her voice was tight, and she couldn't hide the sadness that clung to her words. "I just got a little overwhelmed, I guess."

Justin turned over the engine, taking a deep breath before reaching his right hand out to her. She took his hand in both of hers, fingertips lightly tracing over his palm as if searching for comfort in the lines. "Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice soothing and earnest.

"Of course," she replied without hesitation.

Justin's eyes searched hers for a moment before he started the car and pulled away from the parking spot. He felt the weight of the evening's failure, but the warmth of her hands on his provided a small glimmer of hope that the night could still be salvaged. "What would you actually like to eat? Somewhere you know is good," he asked, his voice gentle.

"Oh, um, I don't know," she replied, her voice small. "It's okay. Whatever you want is fine."

Justin squeezed her hand. "No, tell me. I want you to enjoy this night. Tell me where you want to eat." He came to a stop at a light, immediately turning his face to find her eyes. "Anything you want."

She paused, then took a deep breath. "We could go to... In-N-Out?" she suggested tentatively. "They're open late, and there's one not too far from here."

Justin's expression brightened. "In-N-Out it is." He turned the car around, the tires squealing slightly on the asphalt. As they drove away from the fancy restaurant, the tension in the car began to dissipate. "I'm sorry," he said, squeezing her thigh softly. "I wanted tonight to be perfect."

"It's alright," she murmured, easing into his touch. "I just wanted to spend time with you."

They pulled into the In-N-Out parking lot, the bright lights and familiar aroma of grease and sizzling meat a stark contrast to the elegant restaurant they'd just left. She felt a weight lift from her chest as they stepped out of the car. The cool breeze brushed against her sticky dress, offering a bit of relief from the wine stain that seemed to cling to her like a memory of what could have been.

The soft fabric of Justin's sport coat came down to rest over her shoulders before she realized she was shivering in the cool evening air. "Here," he murmured, pulling her into his side. She leaned into him, her eyes closing briefly as she inhaled his clean, comforting scent.

Inside, the burger joint was a beacon of normalcy amidst the chaos of the evening. The bell above the door chimed as they entered, and the cashier greeted them with a cheerful smile. Justin's eyes searched the menu, but he knew exactly what he wanted. "Go ahead," he urged her. "You order first."

She blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in their roles. She took a deep breath, and for the first time in almost an hour, she felt a genuine smile tug at her lips. Justin followed suit with his own order. She found herself tucked contentedly into his side as they patiently waited for their food, both of them laughing quietly at the mundane perfection of the moment.

Once their meals were ready, they retreated to the car, the plastic bag rustling with the promise of greasy goodness. They sat on the hood, the warmth of the metal seeping through their clothes, and shared their food like it was a secret picnic under the stars. The quiet hum of the parking lot and the occasional car driving by created a surprisingly intimate atmosphere.

"I nearly fainted the first time I neutered a dog," she said, a giggle escaping her as she took a sip of her vanilla shake. The creamy liquid coated her throat, the sweetness bringing life back to her voice. "My mentor had to hold me up after I made the first cut. It took me almost two hours to get through the surgery."

Justin laughed, his gray-green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Two hours?"

"I know, I know," she said, her voice lightening. "But it was so worth it once I got over the shock. I love my job."

Justin nodded, taking a bite of his burger as he watched her steal a fry. "I was pretty nervous for my first college game," he confessed, his voice carrying a hint of a laugh. "I threw up in the locker room, twice."

Her eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack," Justin said with a crinkle of his nose, taking a deep breath of the night air. "But after that, it was like something clicked. I stepped onto the field, and it was like I'd been playing under those lights my whole life." He took a long sip of his own shake, his expression suddenly sincere. "It's the same feeling I get when I'm with you."

She felt her heart flutter, the warmth of his confession spreading through her. The light from the restaurant's neon sign cast a glow over their faces, highlighting their smiles. "Really?"

Justin nodded, setting his burger aside to look at her more closely. "Yeah, really. You make me feel like I can be myself. Like I don't have to be 'on' all the time." He paused, taking in the sight of her. "I mean, you're beautiful, but it's more than that. You're… easy to talk to. And when I'm around you, I can just… breathe."

She felt her face warm, and she ducked her head, smiling shyly. "Thank you," she murmured, her eyes glancing up at him through her lashes. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Justin reached out, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. "You deserve it."

Their eyes locked for a moment, the air thick with the scent of burgers and fries, the gentle buzz of the fluorescent lights above them. Without another word, he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, and kissed her. It was soft, tentative and searching, as if he was afraid she might cease to exist if he pressed too hard.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned into the kiss, her heart pounding in her chest. The taste of the vanilla shake lingered on her lips, melding with the salt of the fries she'd just eaten. Her free hand found its way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

The kiss grew deeper, more sure, as if they'd been holding back a dam of unspoken feelings waiting for this moment. Brushes of wind nipped at their exposed skin, only serving to draw them closer together.

When they finally broke apart, she couldn't help but let out a contented sigh. "I probably taste like onions," she murmured, her eyes slowly opening to find his.

Justin chuckled, his thumb stroking her cheek. "You taste perfect," he whispered.

"Perfect enough to do it again?" she teased, arching an eyebrow with a sudden rush of playful confidence.

"If you'd like," Justin replied with a smirk, already leaning in closer.

Her gaze flickered to his lips, a smile pulling at the corners of hers, and she nodded. "I'd love to," she said, her voice a hint softer.

Justin leaned in again, and this time the kiss was slower, more deliberate. Her hand slid from his chest to wrap around the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.

read more⠀⁎⠀justin herbert masterlist.

[cinnahoons]

three shots, lemon drops

idol!sim jake x fem!reader; wc 3.0k; genres fluff, established relationship; warnings suggestive!! they make out, mentions of alcohol, v touchy a/n ib twitter shenanigans regarding jake on live but i'm a slow writer so this is late! oops

Jake is pushing it.

He’s situated in front of the camera he’d set up, swaying around in his chair as he watches comments sprint across the screen, including a barrage of messages like Hello from the Philippines! and blink if you see this. He’d taken to Weverse tonight, dragging you into a little studio with him the second he’d arrived at the company building, and suddenly the warning text that Jay had sent you thirty minutes ago started making a lot more sense.

Jake leans closer to the screen as you sit on a couch behind his camera, his lip becoming trapped between his teeth in concentration. You sigh, already imagining the thousands of messages flooding in, no doubt fawning over your boyfriend’s tendency to appear maddeningly kissable.

“Jake, I love your lips,” he reads out, leaning back into his chair with an amused smile playing at his mouth. He lifts a hand, strong fingers coming up to rub softly at the rosy skin he’d been chewing at. “My lips?”

You have to suppress a snort at the obvious fanservice, ignoring the irritation that starts to claw at your gut. You’re used to this—the flirting, the bold advancements on the part of his fans, his reciprocation. It is his job after all, to sell the fantasy. And you know he enjoys it, finds genuine hilarity and fondness in being able to make his fan’s days. It’s never really bothered you, because you’re secure enough in yourself and in your relationship with Jake, despite it being a secret to the public, that it doesn’t keep you awake at night to know he spends his time making other girls believe they have a chance.

Besides, they might know how it feels to flirt with him, but only one person knows the smell of his bedsheets, the warmth of his skin.

Tonight, though—tonight, it’s getting to you, because you’ve never really had to be in the room to witness any of it. Jake typically goes live when you’re not around, to spare you even though he knows it doesn’t usually bother you. Clearly, him having been dropped off tipsy after his dinner with Jay changed his mind, because he’d insisted that you wait for him while he does his live. You’re mostly trying to make sure he doesn’t say anything he shouldn’t.

There’s a lazy smile on his face, one that quirks up at the corner. His eyes fall on you, sluggishly, like they’d been doing all night. It makes your skin prickle, but you make a motion for him to look back at the camera. 

“What’ve you guys been up to?” He asks, running a hand through his rich brown hair. You’re trying to busy yourself as you wait, scrolling on your phone while he talks. But his eyes keep flickering up to you, a little glassy, and surely that must be coming off strange to the viewers. You wonder what they’ll all take to Twitter to rant about tonight—will it be that the company should stop sending in staff to control the members’ every word? You stifle a giggle at the thought.

It’s not funny for long, though, because then Jake keeps talking.

“No, I’m not drunk,” he comments, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He pauses. “Well. Only a little.”

You groan quietly, making wild motions above your head as if to ask him: why would you admit that? He only gives you another look, his lips twitching before he looks back at the camera. 

“Sorry, guys, I’m a little distracted.”

“Jake,” you hiss, making sure to keep your voice quiet enough that you won’t be heard over the live. Jake’s mouth slips into a slow smile. He leans back into his chair, the lids of his eyes lowering slightly as he stares at you.

You squirm in your seat on the couch. Something in his gaze is a little dark, a little loopy. Almost like he’s imagining something his brain can’t comprehend in its current state; like if he tried too hard his eyes would cross with desire and he’d probably say something he shouldn’t.

You look down at your phone, trying to get his attention off of you. It works, at least for now. He continues to read comments off the screen.

“You had steak for dinner? Me too,” he murmurs, palm pressed against his face. “Oh, jajangmyeon, nice.”

It goes on like that for a couple more minutes. You think he’s finally settled down, that the little alcohol he’d drunk had finally faded away enough to render him at least slightly sane. The hour keeps ticking away, so much so that you’ve even started thinking about what you’ll make yourself as a snack tonight before bed, and how you’ll be able to work around Jake’s schedule tomorrow to meet up with him for lunch. That is, until:

“What’s distracting me?” Jake chuckles, fixing the sleeve of his brown jacket. “Mmm…if I told you, then you’d know.”

He’s teasing them, riling them up so they’ll spam him with a million questions from a million different girls who want to be the one he confides in. Your gaze flickers up from your phone, watching him carefully.

“Not related to the comeback,” he says, shaking his head a little too seriously. You’re getting the sense that he’s up to something, unsettling you enough to make you put your phone away. 

“No, not a staff member,” he chuckles. His voice has a lilt to it, one that gives away that he thinks whatever he’s doing is funny. You stand up from the couch, because he’s started to actively ignore the concern painted on your face. You don’t want to accidentally alarm the viewers, so you try subtly to gain his attention.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, slightly panicked. “Don’t say anything stupid. Your managers are going to kill me.”

Jake finally looks up then, through his lashes. There’s a delightful flush to his cheeks, a playfulness in the way he casually drags his eyes up and down your body. He sucks in a little air through his teeth, his tongue playing at the inside of his cheek as he glances at the screen once more.

“You think it’s Jungwonie? You guys are so funny.”

You tiptoe closer to his camera, not caring that your shadow is now visible on the wall behind him. He’s going to say something.

Jake is grinning now, and then he turns back to you, letting out a long, dragging sigh.

“I’m not into sharing, so you’ll just have to trust me, guys.” He cocks his head, eyes half-lidded. “My girlfriend is hot.”

Your jaw drops.

The rest of your body moves at its own accord. One of your hands reaches over his laptop to clap over the camera, and the other hand presses frantically at some buttons on his keyboard, wasting no time in ending the live. You’re frozen there, body tipped over his setup with your eyes practically bugging out of your skull.

All the while, Jake is leaned back in his chair, a leisurely smirk playing at his lips.

“Don’t look so happy to be mine.”

Your hand falls from its position, and you stare at your boyfriend in shock.

“What the fuck?”

The situation is settling in fast, like a brick to the gut, and you’re already starting to spiral just thinking of the fallout. You ignore Jake’s stupid face, pacing around the room in panic, a hand reaching up to rub against your eyes.

“What the fuck. What the fuck. Oh my god, the company is gonna hang both of us. I should’ve—I should’ve just listened to Jay when he texted me not to let you go live tonight. Jake—” you whirl around, doubling down around the corner of Jake’s desk, walking up to him in anger, “everyone fucking knows now. There’s gonna have to be so much damage control.

Jake only stares at you for a moment, the smirk from earlier faded away. It’s left something darker in its place—a little more raw, a little more real. He shrugs, his eyes boring into yours.

“So what?”

Notifications start going off on both of your phones. Jake silences his without even blinking, but you snatch yours up furiously.

“What do you mean so what? So this,” you grit, holding up your phone. “You think I’m worried about myself or something? We can take the heat from your company, but everything else? That’s only going to you. What the hell were you thinking?”

Silence. Jake takes the phone from your hands gently, switching the ringer off wordlessly. He puts it next to his, seemingly uninterested in any protest on your part (there comes none). 

“I was thinking,” he starts, looking up at you from his seat, “that I’ve been wanting to do that ever since my driver dropped me off and I walked in to see you looking like that.” He motions at your outfit, his other hand rubbing small circles into his lips. 

“Besides.” A smile creeps onto his face, and he reaches out, tugging lightly at your hips, causing you to stumble forward a little. His head rests at your stomach level. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous, baby.”

You blink down at him, shocked, blush spreading across your skin at a furious pace. So he’d noticed it, then, the irritation that you thought you’d hidden well. In fact, he’d been hoping for it. That’s probably why he’d insisted that you wait for him while he went live. He’d really bit the dust as soon as he walked into the HYBE building.

“Jake,” you warn, although there’s no real conviction behind it. You’ve lost all the anger from earlier, replaced by something weak. “This is bad.”

He hums distractedly, dipping his head to mouth at the fabric of your shirt. You can feel the warmth of his lips at your stomach, feel him smiling gently against you. 

“Really bad,” he murmurs.

You breathe out slowly, your breath stuttering for no reason other than nerves. Jake looks up at you anyway, the tipsy glimmer to his eyes reflecting your own rosy face. He furrows his brows in a way that makes your heart ache, it’s so adorable.

“You want me to stop?”

You consider it for a moment. The other members, the company, everyone is most definitely trying to get a hold of you both right now. But then you’re looking back at Jake; at the wanton look in his eyes, and you find yourself shaking your head, lowering yourself into his lap without so much as a little sigh. You know you’ll both be getting a mouthful later—but for now, it doesn’t matter.

He smiles at you dazedly, planting firm hands on your hips to keep you steady. He lifts a hand up to brush a lock of hair from your face.

“Need you to say it,” he murmurs. 

You lean in, the air escaping your mouths mingling between you.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Jake seals the distance between you instantly, his lips meeting yours in a feverish kiss. For a moment you feel weightless—like it’s just you and him, entwined in midair with nothing but an ache in your lips and sweat beading on your skin. And then he’s moving, his hands sliding down to grasp your thighs as he noses at your jaw, littering kisses down its side and along your neck. He grounds you with the weight of every press of his full lips against your burning skin, and you can’t help but to tangle your fingers in the soft brown locks that sit at the nape of his neck.

“So pretty, baby,” he mumbles against your neck, the low rumble of his voice causing goosebumps to erupt on your arms. “Lucky I’m yours.”

A giggle tumbles out of your mouth, soft and earnest, and you can feel Jake’s teeth against your skin as he breaks into a grin.

“Mine,” you singsong, leaning your head back a little as he continues to mouth down towards your collarbone. “And they all know that now.”

Jake snorts. 

“And you always tell me it doesn’t bother you when they flirt.”

He lifts his head up a little, moving to the juncture between your jaw and your neck.

“It—doesn’t.” The last part comes out through gritted teeth, because suddenly Jake is sucking a hickey into your skin, color blooming in his wake. You hiccup on a breath, your eyes glassy as he pulls away to survey his work.

“Now you’re gonna be more distracting.”

You drop your head onto his shoulder in shame, heat rushing to your cheeks as he giggles in your ear. 

“Since when have I made such terrible decisions?” You whine against the fabric of his shirt, your voice muffled. 

He laughs, breathy, swaying you around on his lap.

“Hey, I’ll take the credit for this one.”

Your head shoots up, eyes narrowing as you smack his arm softly.

“Damn right you will. I was talking about letting you drag me into this room in the first place.”

Jake lifts his arms in surrender, a coy smile on his lips. He shrugs, and then he cocks a brow.

“Were you being serious about Jay texting you?”

You nod, fiddling absentmindedly with a button on his shirt.

“He said, and I quote: Be careful about letting Jake go live tonight, he’s extra stupid when he’s tipsy.” 

Jake stares at you blankly for a second.

“That fucker.”

You laugh, leaning in to press a kiss against Jake’s cheek. His dramatic act crumbles instantly, a smile forming on his face.

“He was right, though,” you say. The smell of Jake’s cologne drifts up from his neck, your eyelids fluttering helplessly in response.

“Not as right as the angle of my arm when I shove it up his—”

“Okay, stop talking about Jay—” you breathe, shutting your eyes, “and kiss your girlfriend.”

Jake shuts up, fast, one of his hands twitching against your thigh.

“Yes to both,” he replies, the other hand coming up to rest in the hair by your ear, tugging forward gently so your lips are touching. “Top ten words ever spoken, actually.”

He captures your bottom lip with his own, soft and languid. There are a million and one ways you could react to how good he is, but you settle for just touching him, fingers brushing along his neck, rubbing in small circles as he cups your jaw. His teeth scrape lightly against your lip, and you gasp quietly, your jaw falling open just that little bit more—pliant. He takes the chance to lick into your mouth, searing, the palm of his hand warm and strong against your cheek. The hand on your thigh crawls up your hip, slipping under your shirt just enough to rest atop the bone there, moving no further. He thumbs gently at your skin, drawing a low whine from your chest as he continues to kiss you.

Jake’s eyebrows furrow gently, lost in the sensation of your lips slotted against his. There’s a moment where he’s breathing hard against your mouth, having pulled away from you enough to have you panting not barely an inch from his face. His eyes rove over every part of you he can see, down to where you sit on his lap, his thumbs pressed into the dimples of your hips. You have to resist surging forward to kiss him again, momentary embarrassment at your inability to be disconnected from his lips for more than a minute vanishing almost as fast as it came on. You can’t blame yourself—the fans were right, after all, to point out his lips. They’re as soft and capable as they appear on camera, if not more.

A shy smile creeps onto Jake’s face.

“I love you, Y/N. Whatever happens, it was worth it.”

You sigh, a lovesick giggle threatening to jump out of your mouth.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Exist.”

You smile at him, your nose scrunching up as you lean in once more to give him a long, chaste kiss, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek.

Suddenly, there’s a bang. The door to the studio swings open, revealing a completely unimpressed Jay, his arms crossed over his chest. Jake breaks away from the kiss, and you turn a bewildered head to face the intrusion, your lips raw and glistening from earlier events.

“Thought so. Could you two stop eating each other's faces for a minute so we can go deal with the consequences of your actions?”

You blink in embarrassment, trying to picture the no doubt saucy image of you perched on Jake’s lap looking like you’d just given a vacuum a run for its money. It’s humiliating.

“That’s not—we were just—”

Jay snorts, eyeing your neck with amusement.

“I can see your hickey, Y/N.”

“My bad,” Jake chimes in, a dopey smile on his face. You cast him a sideways glare before turning around again to flash Jay a sheepish grin. He shakes his head.

“I should’ve known you’d be no help against his evils. You’re both equally airheaded.”

“Okay, rude—”

“Just get over to the meeting room already,” Jay interrupts, a sort of fondness underscoring his tone. “The internet is falling apart.”

Jake throws his head back in his chair, groaning, pulling you against his chest in the process.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles into your hair.

“Jake. The media’s already all over this.”

Always the voice of reason, Jay is.

“Fine. One more kiss.”

“Sim Jaeyun,” Sunghoon’s voice screeches from the hallway outside the studio, followed by the loud stomping of his feet. You suspect he’s running.

Jake’s head launches up at a comical speed, you and Jay both laughing at the mildly fearful expression on his face.

“He’s coming,” you call, sliding off his lap onto slightly wobbly legs, reaching out a hand to your boyfriend. He takes it, grumbling.

“Can we just say I was talking about Layla or something?”

“You called me hot.”

“Oh, right,” Jake says, taking your hand softly as he starts for the door. “Definitely not Layla.”

tags! @junityy @hittoki @neos127 @iuwon @tyunni + ty to @/junityy and @4xiaojun for helping me when i was stuck ily guys 💓