#the way he sits and the way he stands and the way he talks to his family and the way the big t shirts he wears sits on his waistband and | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yoyomomiko · 2 days ago

Note

Hi Miko, I've been reading your one piece posts and absolutely love how you write the characters! I loved your oblivious reader headcanons, but I wanted to request kind of the opposite - how would Luffy, Sanji and Zoro react to a reader that makes the first move and kisses them first? Thank you 🥰💕

pairings: monster trio x female reader

cw: not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

— (a/n): hiiii!! i'm very sorry for not posting, I've got a lot of requests and i hope I'll get to write them all ^⁠_⁠^ also, I SWEAR I don't have a favourite (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) -> m.list

— LUFFY

Luffy is so straight forward that a lot of flirting just goes right over his head. You could be batting your eyelashes, throwing hints, or playfully touching his arm, and he'd just grin at you, not having a second thought.

He's naturally touchy with his crew, so when you start getting more physically affectionate, he just kinda rolls with it. Leaning on him? He'll lean right back. Holding his hand? He'll swing it playfully.

The realization hits... Late. You make a habit of teasing him, leaning in close when you talk, poking his face when he pouts, and even calling him cute. After a lot of punches from Nami and disappointed sighs from Usopp, he tilts his head and just goes "Are you flirting with me?"

Luffy starts leaning in close, just to see if you'll back away, and he literally COPIES your every move.

"Does this make your heart race too?" In the most innocent way possible.

You think he's immune to embarrassment, until you pull a bold move and trace his jaw with your fingers. "I bet you'd taste sweet." He actually pauses, eyes wide, and a faint pink tint covering the tip of his ears.

When you finally go in for the kiss, you catch him mid laugh. His eyes widen, and probably for the first time ever, he's speechless. Luffy, the king of energy, is frozen like a statue.

His hand almost instinctively catches your waist, holding you close. You pull back, watching his expression shift from shock, to realization, to a big, goofy grin.

"Do it again!" He doesn't even hesitate before grabbing your face and closing the distance again, kissing you back. Zero hesitation.

After this, he just kisses you whenever he feels like it. Mid conversation? Smooch. Stealing food? Smooch. Looking at him funny? Smooch.

He literally tells the whole crew. No warning, no build up. Just a proud declaration while you stand there, face buried in your hands.

You belong to his crew, but now you're his in a way that makes him extra protective. He wraps his arms around you randomly, pulling you close, his stupid, big grin plastered on his face.

He starts challenging you to kiss attacks. If you surprise him, you win. If he catches you trying, he flips it on you.

Luffy doesn't get embarrassed easily, but he does get attached. Expect him to be glued to your side, smiling like you're the best treasure in the world.

There's no overthinking with Luffy, he just likes being with you, loves that your bold, and will 100% support more surprise kisses in the future.

———☆

You're sitting on the deck with Luffy, sharing a plate of snacks, when you decide you've had enough of his cluelessness. He's laughing about something, something dumb, something that shouldn't make your heart race.

So, without a second thought you lean in and close the distance, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. It's quick, but it's just enough to make Luffy's breath hitch and heartbeat increase.

Luffy blinks at you, his usual bright eyes wide in surprise. He's touching his lips like he's processing the sensation for the first time. Then, slowly, a huge grin spreads across his face.

"Whoa!" He lets out a shaky exhale, and then he grabs your hands, bouncing excitedly. "Do it again!"

"Maybe later." You laugh, shaking your head. He was getting so excited over a simple kiss, and you couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat at the way his touch felt on your skin.

"Later?! But I wanna do it now!" He doesn't wait, just leans in and captures your lips in another quick, excited kiss. Now, you're the one blushing.

— ZORO

Flirting with Zoro is like flirting with a wall, at least at first. He doesn't react to subtle touches, teasing smirks or even playful winks. He just raises an eyebrow like, What are you doing?

"You're acting weird." You lean in, fingers trailing over his wrist as he tenses, although not pulling away. "I'm just being friendly." "That doesn't feel friendly..."

The moment he does realize you're flirting with him, he goes completely still. His grip on his swords tighten. He legit looks like he just got challenged to a duel.

"Tch, like I care." But then he starts noticing everything. The way you look at him, the way your hand when you pass him something, the way you bite your lip when you tease him.

Zoro acts all cool, but inside? His heart is beating faster, and he doesn't know why. Literally internal panic.

One day, you brush your fingers along his jaw. "I bet you'd look good, all flustered and blushing." He visibly stiffens, eyes darting away. "Shut up." Oh, so he can get flustered.

You finally go for it, grabbing his collar and closing the gap, pulling him in for a kiss. He doesn't react at first, he's too shocked to move a muscle. Then, his hands grip your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

He's not as unaffected as he pretends to be. He exhales slowly, his breathing controlled. But you can feel the slight shake in it, the way his hands tremble slightly and the way his muscles tense.

Zoro pretends it's no big deal, but later, he tilts your chin up and kisses you again. Slower, deeper, like he's trying to memorize the feeling of your lips on his.

He's not big on PDA, but his protective streak triples. Arm around your waist? Always. Pulling you close when someone stares too long? Every time.

He doesn't say sweet things, but his actions scream it.

He still gets caught off guard when you tease him. A kiss on the cheek, and his ears turn red. Whispering something flirty, and his jaw tightens.

Zoro likes a challenge, and now that he's aware of you, he starts fighting back. He corners you and smirks if you get flustered.

He will DIE before admitting how much he likes it.

———☆

Zoro is training, sweat glistening on his skin, swords balanced in a way that makes him look damn near untouchable. You've been teasing him all day, dropping little hints, getting close... But he's been brushing you off, pretending it has no effect on him. Until now.

You walk up to him casually, hiding your smug smirk, standing just close enough for him to feel your presence. "Bet I could throw you off balance."

"Tch, you wish." He fights the urge to roll his eyes, the way his words came out was almost as if he was daring you to try.

Your smirk widens as you step closer to him. Before he could react, you grip his collar, tug him down, lips colliding into each other as you press a confident kiss on his lips.

He freezes. His whole body tenses like he's been struck by lightning. When you pull away, his breath is heavier, and there's a slight pink tint decorating his cheeks.

He glares at you, the grip on his swords tightening. "That was dirty..." He mutters, still trying to calm himself down.

You tilt your head to the side, still smirking. "Did it work?" You taunt him, trying to hold back your laugh, watching his flustered expression carefully.

Zoro exhales slowly, before grabbing your wrist, yanking you back in for another kiss. His lips crashed against yours, and you could feel his smirk pressing against your mouth. This one's deeper, hungrier. When he finally pulls back, a smirk forms on his lips.

"Yeah. It worked."

— SANJI

Sanji flirts with everyone, but when you do it back? He's done for. He's absolutely weak from the start. He nearly drops his cigarette every time you touch him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?" And he instantly covers his mouth, trying to hide his nosebleed and the way his face turns 50 different shades of red. He short circuits instantly.

He flirts dramatically, and you flirt right back, leaning in close, tracing his jaw, calling him pet names. His whole face BURNS.

You catch him off guard with a soft touch to his cheek, and his whole face erupts in pink. "M-Mademoiselle!"

When you finally kiss him first, his soul leaves his body. His cigarette falls, his legs turn weak, and he grips onto you for dear life.

The moment your lips touch his, Sanji's entire body locks up. His heart is hammering, and his mind is screaming in ten different languages. His brain kinda goes offline for a few seconds, but he'll snap out of it eventually!!

He covers his face with both hands, trying to suppress the absolutely ridiculous grin forming. "Mon Dieu! You're too much for me..." And his legs wobble like he might pass out.

His hands remain on your waist, but he doesn't pull you in, not yet. He wants to play it cool, but his flushed face and trembling hands give it away.

For the next hour, he is completely useless in the kitchen. He keeps chopping ingredients wrong, spacing out and giggling like an absolute fool. When someone asks what's wrong, his only reply is "I've been blessed by an angel today."

After the kiss, he becomes extra aware of your presence. A simple brush of your fingers sends a shiver down his spine. If you just lean against him, he has to take deep breaths.

The next time you tease him, he gets his revenge, tilting your chin up with his fingers and giving you the slowest, most knee weakening kiss of your life. "Two can play this game, mon amour."

Before, he was a hopeless romantic. Now? He's a hopelessly attached romantic. "Oh, you like me?" You tease, and you see the way his lips curl into a smirk. "Like? Darling, I adore you."

He was already treating you like royalty, but now it's way worse. Pulling out your chair, offering you the best cuts off food, whispering sweet nothings into your ear 24/7. It's endless.

You kiss him unexpectedly? He still gets heart eyes, but now he pulls you right back for another. "Don't start something you're not ready to finish, darling."

Completely, utterly, shamelessly yours. Sanji doesn't even try to hide it, he's absolutely whipped. He lets everyone know, the whole crew has to deal with it.

———☆

Sanji is flirting with you as usual, leaning close and murmuring sweet things. "Ah, ma chérie, if you keep looking at me like that, I might fall apart."

You rolled your eyes, a mischievous smirk forming on your lips. You grabbed his tie, fingers twisting in the fabric, yanking him down with a sudden tug. He stumbled slightly, cut off guard, but there was no time to react. Your lips crashed against his, the space between you vanishing as you pressed your body flush against his, tilting your head and deepening the kiss. His breath hitched as his hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you even closer.

Your lips parted just enough to tease, to taste. Your fingers slid up from his tie to tangle in his hair, nails grazing his scalp as you pulled him in, not letting go.

You finally parted from him, just barely, lips still hovering close and over each other. He's completely frozen. Mouth slightly open, cigarette hanging dangerously close to falling, his eyes wide in surprise, face completely red.

His whole body shakes, and he nearly collapses on the floor. "I can die happy!" He shouts out dramatically, both hands pressed firmly on his chest as he struggles to breathe.

Later, when he finally recovers, he pulls you aside, trapping you against the wall, kissing you so deep it leaves you breathless.

"Not so easy when I'm the one taking control, hm, mon amour?"

★yoyomiko ★miko

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promiscuousg1rl · 1 day ago

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how not to — rafe cameron

rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: you and rafe are over, you've been over. and although he was the one who chose to end your relationship, he's also the one who can't seem to leave you alone and let the relationship go.

note: this is based off the song how not to by dan & shay!

You should be used to seeing him by now. Wheezie has been taking ballet classes at this studio for almost a year now and you are one of her instructors after all.

But for the last two months she was always coming in with her older brother in tow instead of her parents, claiming that Rafe had gotten stuck standing in as "dance brother" because they couldn't make it.

You believed it at first. You knew Mr. and Mrs. Cameron were busy people and work related responsibilities came up a lot. However when Wheezie got into her talkative moods and expressed how glad she was that Rafe offered to be her permanent chauffeur, you became skeptical.

Now you knew Rafe loved his little sister to pieces but if there was one thing he was never willing to do? It was sitting up at a dance studio surrounded by a bunch of middle-aged women bragging about theirs daughter's grand jeté being better than everyone else's.

And yet here he is, walking Wheezie in with a smile so big it made the skin around his eyes crinkle.

"Hey y/n!" Wheezie wears an identical smile to Rafe's, fully prepared for class in her light pink leotard and tights.

You stand up from the receptionist desk. "Hi wheezie," you reply. "Today we're going to be in studio B, go ahead and put your things in your locker."

She gives you an eager nod before skipping past you and to the back.

As soon as she's out of your line of sight you sit back down and do your best to make yourself look busy. A part of you hopes he'll choose to leave but as he continues to stare down at you from the other side of the desk, you know its wishful thinking.

"So," he says with that usual drawl to his voice. "How've you been?"

You still before slowly glancing up at him. You despise how good he looks in his backwards-facing baseball hat and Carolina blue UNC t-shirt. Did he somehow get beefier in the last few weeks?

"Uh, I've been good Rafe," you mutter. "How about you?"

Propping his arms atop of the counter, large biceps bulging beneath the hem of his short sleeves, he shrugs. " 'Been hanging in there."

You nod.

It was bizarre to think about how much a break up can change things. This was someone whose ear you used to talk off 24/7. He was a best friend to you before a lover and the one person you told everything to. That was all over now; you're nothing more than two strangers engaging in a boring conversation.

As much is it hurt you, you had to remember that it was his doing. It was his decision to end things with you after two years together.

"I must've missed you at Sarah's party the other night."

You wonder if he actually thinks this whole naive facade will work on you. Especially since you're more than sure that he was fully aware that you declined Sarah's invitation and why you declined it in the first place.

It was him; the reason why you refuse to step foot on Tannyhill. Even when Rose begged you to give Wheezie private lessons on the estate, you politely said no. You just couldn't do it. It was hard enough living in the same town and trying to avoid him; and the only reason you were able to was because of your differing tax brackets.

You were a pogue and after the break up you couldn't help but thank your lucky stars that you resided on the Cut.

Work was also something you looked forward to because him dropping off and picking up Wheezie was rare.

Or at least, it used to be.

"No you didn't," you give him a blank stare. "I didn't go."

"Because of me?"

You sigh. "Rafe..."

You rise from your seat and go to make your way towards the studios. The sight of you leaving practically sends him into a panic, he rounds the desk and softly grabs your sweater-covered wrist in his hand.

"Look you don't have to do that okay?" His face is pinched with guilt. "You don't have to avoid me o-or stop hanging out with my sister because—"

Your scoffs cuts him off and he furrows his brows in confusion.

That expression alone has your skin getting hot. Is he serious?

"Did you not tell me, verbatim, to "get the hell out of your life" and that you were tired of being smothered by me? Are those not the words that came out of your mouth?"

Rafe combs a hand through his hair. "I...yes okay I said some shitty things but it was just that, bullshit. I didn't mean any of it, alright?"

You glare up at him, yanking your arm from his grasp. "And here we go with the excuses."

"It's not an excuse, y/n. I was fucked up because of all that shit going on with the guys, I took it out on you—"

"Like always," You shake your head. "You let them get into your head, and like always, I became collateral damage. It was fuck my feelings as long as," you take a quick glance around, bringing your voice down to a whisper. "Topper and Kelce gave you the validation you were looking for."

Rafe looks down in shame, swallowing hard.

You thought he was past that stage in his life, caring what people thought of him and your relationship. Apparently you were wrong.

"I just don't get it," you feel stupid as tears well up in your eyes. "If I wasn't good enough for you to choose me, then why can't you just leave me alone?"

“I made a mistake yn,” Rafe shuffles in place, working up the courage to meet your eyes again. He regrets it as soon as he takes in the tears in yours eyes. He hates himself for making you cry, it makes him think of the promise he broke. The one where he said he’d never hurt you and couldn’t imagine ever doing so. But he was a destructive bastard who was only capable of breaking things; hurting those closest to him. It was in his nature.

And yet, despite being fully aware of who he was and everything he was capable of, he couldn’t find it in himself to let you go. Not when he still thinks about every minute of everyday. Yeah it was contradicting; he made his choice and he should be the one who’s strong enough to walk away and move on. However the thought of you no longer being in his life terrifies him more than anything else.

“I just wanna fix it.”

“You can’t,” You say, turning away from him. “So please, let this go. Let me go.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #outer banks rafe au #outer banks fic #outer banks #obx x reader

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dollzites · 2 days ago

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⏦ﾟ♡︎ “we could get a bit more risky if you’d like”

୨ৎ pairing: boyfriend!seunghyun x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! suggestive! perfect mix of heart warming, sweet, and spicy!

୨ৎ summary: seunghyun’s always been the type to tease, be affectionate, and act cute with you not caring who sees or hears. sometimes it becomes a bit too much and that’s when your shyness hits an all time high and your forced to playfully push him away but.. he never budges. this is seunghyun we’re talking about.

୨ৎ from myeong: hello!! so happy to be taking this request of course! anything for sweet seunghyun 🥹 I hope you enjoy this!! x

seunghyun stands in front of the crowd giving a small speech about how excited, delighted, and satisfied he is with all the squid game love. your glossed lips curl up into a gentle smile watching him turn into a man that you’ve always dreamed of seeing, a man that is much happier, confident, and comfortable being himself. it took many years of hardship and a tight bond you both had to get him to this point but it was well worth it. marriage wasn’t something that was constantly on your mind but the thought of marrying him and giving him a child sounded like a life you could definitely start living. as seunghyun finished up the speech he bowed and made his way over to you his arms immediately wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his chest like he loved doing so much. shocked? just a little bit. being on the much shyer side had always gotten in the way of his pda but he found it insanely adorable and that’s why he continued such pda just to see your cute expression every time he’d kiss, touch, or grab you.

“I’m so proud of you.” the whisper sweetly leaves your lips and you press a gentle but quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away completely—or at least tried too before his strong grip pulled you back into him, “where’s my girl goin’ hm? not leaving me so fast.” his deep voice always sent chills down your spine and thankfully the crowd around you weren’t too focused on the scene that played out in front of them. slipping your hand around his much warmer one and pulling him towards the table you both sat at before he was called up to speak, seunghyun stopped you before you could sit back down with a evident smirk across his thin lips. “what—” not being able to finish when he pulled you into his lap letting his hands find your waist rubbing at the thin fabric of your sundress he picked out for you to wear. “I think it’s only fair that everyone here knows we’re together.” a light chuckle left him and you playfully rolled your eyes, “don’t you agree? I mean.. we could get a bit more risky if you’d like.” and with that his lips found the back of your neck placing a few open mouthed kisses to the soft skin before pulling away and blowing on the area, “seunghyun! people can see us..” a giggle left your lips despite trying to sound irritated at his behavior, he knew that you loved it.

“this dress looks so good on you..” and just as you were about to reply to him lee jungjae walked up and took a seat in front of you both only causing warmth to rush through your entire body—just a bit embarrassed by how you had been sitting on your boyfriend’s lap at an event. slowly seunghyun started to speak with him about how difficult filming for this season was for the both of them, finding yourself playing with his long fingers that had been wrapped around your waist tapping in a gentle manner. although he had been doing so much better the anxiety still took over at times and with you here it was a way to calm himself down and know that things were perfectly safe and sound.

another man walked up and grabbed the attention of jungjae which meant seunghyun was no longer interested in their conversation and his head turned to you, leaning in to press his lips against your own. this had been the most affectionate he’s ever been in public and you couldn’t wrap your head around why. “is everything okay?” you asked quietly before his lips pressed against yours again in a almost possessive way. “mhm, always.” his reply was short and sweet because he wasn’t finished with you just yet large hands finding the top of your bare thighs and giving them each a squeeze. at this point it felt like it was just you two here until you heard the familiar voice of lee byunghun and immediately stood from his lap, bowing to the older man in front of you. “I see he can’t keep his hands off you.” byunghun chuckled enjoying how much in love seunghyun was with you and you turned to give him a playful glare before sitting down in your own seat although it didn’t take seunghyun long to take ahold of your hand and pull it towards his lips pressing a few kisses to each finger. “you’re being so affectionate, why? I’m not complaining but.. people have been looking at us for a few minutes now.” a deep chuckle left his chest and he took the time to look around at said people who were supposedly staring at you both.

“who cares, my love. can’t a man be in love with his gorgeous girl and show intimacy, hm? it’s not like we’re having sex on the table.” and you reached over to slap at his chest not believing the words that just came from his lips, especially with byunghun right in front of you two. seunghyun shrugged his broad shoulders before standing up and pulling you up along with him, “why don’t we go dance? or maybe we can take a short bathroom break? and no we won’t be using the bathroom.” an annoyed groan left your lips and he pulled your back towards his chest letting his arms wrap around your waist, “oh hush. I know you enjoy this too much.” his voice against your ear made your knees weak and you slowly nodded your head not wanting to nod at all and agree with him but that would be lying.

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lalunanymph · 11 hours ago

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CAUGHT

☆° syp: caleb catches you jerking off and decides to try something new with you

☆° tw: caleb x fem!reader, masturbating, watching p0rn, suspension, improper use of evol, dom!caleb, unprotected sex, bondage, dirty talk, possessiveness, silly banter, kinda crack-ish at the end, brat taming-ish, 1.8k+ words

☆° dawn says: caleb's secret times affinity 85 has got me feeling some kinda way so i locked in for two hours and wrote this (shame)

Skyhaven is chilly, but under the sheets of your shared bed with Caleb, you’re sweating your ass off.

It’s not like you to typically be this… well, desperate, but hey—ovulation week can tank even the most disciplined of girls. And you, for sure, aren’t the strongest when it comes to fighting back these primal urges.

Your fingers make quick work under the bands of your sleep pants, and you’re huffing, panting as your eyes lock onto your phone screen, drinking in the sight of a woman passionately getting eaten out by her Dominant as she’s dangling from the ceiling in shibari. Look—not to yuck anyone’s yum, but you sure as hell didn’t think you’d find something like this hot.

Caleb and you were still… finding your intimacy footing. He’s gentle and sweet in bed, always paying attention to your needs. He wouldn’t even come unless you were close, constantly edging himself so you two could fall down the precipice together.

Warm and kind, you could never envision him doing something like this to you.

The woman moans through your wireless earbuds, her hair cascading in magnificent waves. Her Dom grunts, a mess between her thighs, his chin and cheeks slick with her juices. You can tell from how her belly is constricting rapidly that she’s close, and your body surges in a feverish pitch, trying to find your own peak.

When, suddenly, the blanket is yanked off your body and you’re looking right into the wide eyes of your boyfriend.

Caleb stands, frozen, still in his Colonel uniform. He’s had a hard day—you can tell. He looks deprived of a few hours of sleep, and his shoulders are rigid.

But, the second he fixes his gaze on you, his jaw goes slack. In awe.

You quickly yank your hand out of your pants and remove your earbuds. But, this damn technology had it out for you. The second your wireless connection is disconnected, moans and slurps fill the awkward space between you and Caleb—definitely blowing your cover.

“Crap!”

With a squeak, you hasten to switch off your phone, mortification washing over you in waves. You scramble to sit up, and as if you hadn’t been edging yourself to an explosive orgasm, you nervously chuckle, unaware of how Caleb’s eyes have darkened.

“Pipsqueak…” His voice is low, fringed with curious suspicion. “What was that?”

Before you can change the subject and claim that it’s nothing, the pull of gravity flicks your phone off the bed and into his hand. He knows your password by heart, like how you know his, and when the screen flickers to life, he huffs under his breath.

“So… this is what my naughty little girl gets up to when I’m not home, huh.”

His words send an unexpected thrill down your spine, but you’re too horrified to say anything else, your cheeks leeched off color.

You stutter, “It’s not what you think—” But, he cuts you off, shaking his head.

“Boo. Wrong. Means I’m not treating you right,” he chuckles, and tosses the phone back to you. “But, y’know what, I’ve always liked a little challenge, so maybe it’s time we took things… to another level.”

Curlicues of heat shiver down your body, and you throb hotly between your thighs. Stubbornness, however, would be your downfall when you scoff and try to play off the intensity building you two. “Caleb, you big dummy—I told you it was nothing—”

He grips your jaw, gently tilting your face up to meet his.

For the past few minutes, you’ve been resolutely avoiding his gaze, afraid of what you might find there. But, when you tentatively slide your eyes to meet him, you’re not greeted by contempt or disgust as you originally thought.

Caleb’s looking down at you with an inexplicable heat in his gaze. There’s a slight tremble in his fingers, though his expression remains deceptively calm.

“Princess, come on.” His thumb strokes your lower lip. “When have I ever judged you, huh? I love you—” He sounds ardent. Sincere. “I love you and I would do anything you wanted. Anything at all.”

A fissure of arousal snakes through your veins, lighting you up from head to toe.

“... anything?”

Caleb doesn’t hesitate to nod. “Anything.”

…

Which is how you currently find yourself suspended in mid-air, at the mercy of his Evol.

Caleb sticks true to the unholy scriptures found on your phone’s browser, on his knees, right between your thighs.

He does that thing with his tongue you absolutely adore. You squirm in your gravitational bindings and he glances up at you, a glint in his eyes. Hoarsely, he rasps, “You’re so pretty, baby.”

His tongue digs back into your insides, and your warbling cry resounds throughout the room. Caleb’s not gonna stop—he’s gonna make sure the whole of Skyhaven hears you coming.

“Louder,” he growls, and he picks up the pace, slurpin’ down on your folds like it’s his last meal. Fast. Messy. He punctuates the rhythm of his laps with grunts of, “Pretty. So pretty.”

Your pliant body is for him to do as he pleases. Every touch. Every lick. Every caress. Caleb knows what he’s doing—how exactly to drive you wild. This feeling of power and control that comes down on him—it’s heady.

Addictive.

You’re the sweetest addiction he can never get over. Your body, your sounds.

God, it drives him insane.

The sway of your hips as he bullies his tongue deep into the buttery heat of your arousal makes him grin, shark-like.

“Enjoyin’ this, baby?” He pauses to whisper between laps.

You’re unable to move in mid-air. The ends of your hair sway with every tremble of your body. You’re gasping, eyes-crossed, dumb on his tongue. He has your arms dangling at your sides, and maneuvers them over your head with his Evol to really hammer in your helplessness.

“Pretty like a doll,” he groans, all lustful and thick. Drip, drip. The syrupy gloss of your juices saturate his tongue, and he moans at the taste, like honey and sunshine that comes straight from his favorite fountain.

Oh, he has it down bad—

Caleb can’t think. Can’t focus past the ravenous hunger demolishing his composure, making him thirsty and hungry for only you.

And, god do you taste divine.

His Adam’s apple bulges down on a swallow as you feed him some of your squirt. “There ya go—” he growls, placing a quick smack! on your inner thigh. “Squirtin’ like the ripest peach f’me. Pretty little peach. My pretty—” he rolls his tongue over your folds, swirling it like a madman hellbent on pushing you down the last cliff of your sanity. “—pretty lil’ princess.”

“Caleb!” Your meek cry doesn’t stop him.

“Nuh-uh,” he moans into the thick of your treacly folds, all swollen and puffy now from his ministrations. “S’not a safe word, baby.”

You want to hold him. Pull his stupid face up and kiss him senseless.

But, he’s got all the ropes now. You’re just a puppet caught in his web.

A marionette he can’t wait to fuck straight until she can’t walk.

“Did’cha think I would let you go after that lil’ stunt you pulled, princess?” His leering smirk disappears back between your thighs, the edges of his teeth grazing your trembling, defenseless clit. “Touchin’ yourself like I don’t please you every night—you wound me, baby.”

The raw possessiveness of it all makes you clench down on his devious tongue. Caleb is out for blood, and he won’t stop until he milks you dry.

He slurs his stake right into the heart of your cunt, lapping at the pearly drops of pleasure oozing right down to the ground. “Anythin’ you want, I’d do it for you. Fuck you on the moon if you want.”

“Caleb—” you whine.

You’re close—trembling violently. “Caleb, please—inside,” you gurgle. “Inside me, please!”

He answers your prayers in a split second, cock pushing through your tight heat, up and down, up and down, stroking, thrusting…

He’s as keyed up as you are. The sloppy plap plap plaps of your bodies meeting together makes his pride soar and his balls clench. Caleb digs his fingers into your hips, watching your body undulate in thin air—like a ship rocked apart by a storm with only his cock as an anchor.

The silver glint of his dog tag slams back onto his chest repeatedly. His abs are coated with a light layer of sweat and exertion. He’s sprinting you to the finish line, both of you keyed up beyond belief—he needs to see you shattering all over him like the finest China falling to the ground.

“God, you look so good like this,” he licks his lips, dragging his tongue over a spot of pussy juice he missed, moaning when he tastes you again. “Hair all flowin’, body all taut. Imagine if I had you in ropes, baby,” he grunts, gunning for the sweet ending, digging the balls of his feet into the hardwood floor for maximum thrusting. “You’d be—hngnn—under my control.”

His words snap the fragile crisp of self-control you’re holding onto.

You come for him, loud and wholeheartedly, and the gusto makes his heart soar, his cock throb—

Warm spurts fill you to the brim, and your shackled-to-the-air legs tremble, your body trembling in zero gravity.

Caleb gnashes his teeth and whines like a mad dog coming down from his high, using the last of his strength to catch you as you both go tumbling to the floor like Lego pieces.

For a second, the room swims in a pure haze of white light. You can’t feel your feet, or your hands.

Shit—he’s fucked the soul out of you.

But, in the ringing silence, you feel his hand gently cradle your head to his chest, and the wayward seed is back on her beloved apple tree.

Caleb caresses your head, gently leaving kisses on your temple, cheeks, chin. Anywhere his mouth can reach.

After a moment of silence, you reach for your phone and he raises a brow.

“Seriously? You’re not gonna make a Moments post right now, are ya, Pipsqueak?”

You flop onto his chest, and rather than being tuckered out like he hoped you would be, you kick your feet up, giggling as you scroll through your phone. “Noooo. Got something else better in mind.”

He nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing in the scent of your custom-made shampoo you once DIY-ed with him at a fragrance fair. Your excitement re-sparks the flames again, and he chuckles when you excitedly show him your phone screen—showing off a new position where the bepenised specimen has his unimportant half lying down the side of the bed while his female counterpart hops up and down his more important half.

It looks easy enough, and Caleb is surprisingly limber for his size.

“Supernova, huh?” He squints at the screen, looking deep in thought. “I guess it’s doable—”

You shake your head, tossing him a grin brimming with mischief.

“Oh. I’m not done yet.” You swipe the screen, and it’s an even more complicated position. He inwardly tries not to break. Caleb has indirectly created an insatiable monster.

“Have you ever tried this one~?”

♡ feedback and reblogs are appreciated

#🦢 writes #caleb xia yizhou #caleb smut #caleb love and deepspace #caleb lads #caleb x mc #caleb x reader #caleb x you #lnds smut #lads smut #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace

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mrswrightreal · 2 days ago

Text

shut you up.

pairing: tobias rogers x fem!reader

category: smutty smutttt SMUT

synopsis: god you were annoying. so annoying, atleast in Toby's eyes. you never shut up, always blabbering about something. tim and Brian never minded, neither did the others around the manor. but he had some deep hatred for your stupid voice. and he found the perfect way to shut you up and release some fumes.

warnings: smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (m!receiving), throat fucking, choking, creampie, ends good? nasty, downright aggressive, degrading pet names, degration in general, blood, murder mention. SLENDER MANSION IS CANON HERE 🤞

It was like any other day, you were standing against the kitchen counter, talking to tim about the dream you had last night. your giggle ringing off the walls when tim would make a comment, sipping his morning coffee. you were a bundle of joy for anyone, your sweet smile and bubbly persona. the way your ponytail swung with every step, the way you waved excitedly at Sally. you were the manors sunshine.

so, of course, when he came to the kitchen, he groaned to himself when he saw your signature hair style with a stupid bow around a ponytail from the back. he just rubbed his face and grabbed a cup of coffee, avoiding any initiation of conversation. and when he heard your high pitched voice say his name, he could shatter the mug he held in his hand.

and toby hated it. toby hated you for it, resented you, even. he made every way possible to never cross your path in the day or night. he was almost envious. How could you - cold-blooded killer - be so radiant? you had a shit life, dead parents (by your doing), multiple fucked up disorders, and you lived along side other murderers. it didn't make any sense to him. not like he really cared, he just didn't like you.

"oh! toby! we were just talking about you! you were in my dream and-" you smiled happily, going to explain before he looked at you.

"yeah yeah, shut up for a moment" he mumbled, sipping his coffee with a little twitch in his hand.

you just nodded and smiled, "sorry, forgot you're a bit cranky in the mornings! so anyways tim-" you talked off again, your eyelashes batting up at tim innocently as you spoke.

he just shrugged you off, pouring the rest of the brown steaming liquid into the sink and trudging to his room. he genuinely could not stand even being in the same room as you, and it was infuriating. tim and brian loved your energy, never leaving them with a dull day. you always provided a little something, and they appreciated you in contrast to their lives. you were especially helpful on missions, you mightve been annoying, but damn were you slick and smart. so tim tried to bring you as often as he could, resulting in Toby's shitty attitude.

the day went on like normal, and by the afternoon, you were nestled into the corner of the couch with a controller in your hand. your eyebrows were furrowed, and you bit the inside of your cheek. you shouted at BEN as he glitched your game out so he would beat you. tim sat on the opposite side of the couch, watching in amusement. Jeff sat on the floor next to BEN, almost cackling at your pathetic whining.

"BEN! you literally cannot do that!" you kicked the back of his head, or atleast tried, before your foot went through a bunch of pixels.

you just set your controller on the arm of the couch and waited till BEN and jeff stopped laughing to continue the game. toby walked down the hall, rolling his eyes at the sound of you. he could hear you through the walls, and sometimes he wished to blow his head off. tim nodded his head at him

"toby, come sit!" he offered, but toby just walked by, opening the fridge but grimacing at the leftover kidneys and random rotting flesh.

and there it was, you again. "toby! seriously, your such a buzz kill, just one game?" you pleaded, looking over the back of the couch at him.

his eye twitched when he met your eyes, shaking his head and scoffing, "you're fucking annoying, yknow? can hear ya from my room, every thought it'd be better if you'd shut up?" he snapped, grabbing a beer and walking back to his room.

that was the first time you'd actually showed a frown, your face dropping as the room fell silent. before anyone could ask, you swallowed your thoughts and turned back around, smiling. "he's always in a shitty mood" you laughed, looking at tim, who gave you a sympathetic smile.

after a few more rounds, you called it quits. you yawned a bit and stood up, "goodnight guys! don't let the slender sickness bite!" you giggled again, wiggling your fingers with a wave and heading down the hall.

you had to pass Toby's room to get to yours, and it made your stomach drop a bit. did he really hate you? what had you done? maybe you should talk to him and apologize. so you stopped in front of his door, going to knock before hesitating, your hand a little ways away. you took a breath and knocked lightly, "toby? can I come in?" you asked quietly.

he looked at his door from where he was sitting and sharpening his hatchets. he rolled his eyes and stood, going to open the door and immediately regretting it when he saw your face. "what?" he asked lowly.

"do you mind if we.. talk?" you asked carefully, fiddling with your fingers and looking up at him.

"last thing I want on earth is to talk to you" he grumbled, going to shut his door in your face.

but you held your hand out and stopped it from closing all the way, "I just want to know why you hate me so much? did I ever do something?" you asked quickly, shoving the door open with a small grunt.

he didn't have the energy to protest as you barged into his room, shutting the door softly behind you. he just stood there, arms crossed and bored look plastered across his face. his room was dark, the lamp in the corner illuminating very little features of his space. you just stared at him, waiting for a genuine answer.

when he realized you wanted a real answer, he scoffed, "really? you're loud, annoying, nagging, just a pest. you're so bubbly it's genuinely vomit inducing." he dropped his arms and walked back, plopping down in his chair and picking his axe up, sliding the sharpener across the edge of the blade with a screeching sound.

you cringed away at the sound, before blinking over at him. "you're mad... because I'm happy?" you asked, tilting your head, a little dumbfounded. "you hate me because I'm 'bubbly'?" you asked again, more to yourself than him.

he just sighed, leaning back in the chair, making it creak a little bit. his head turned to you, eyes narrowing at your confused expression. he noticed the glossy film over your eyes, the way your nails dug into your palm. he just groaned loudly and stood up again, stomping over to you.

"you don't gotta cry about it, grow up. now is that all?" he asked, leaning his side against the post of his bed frame.

all you could do was look at him, a little anger building up in your chest. "are you fucking serious?" you ask, a little louder than your recent question. "youre mad because you're too miserable, and I am making the most out of what I have? cause we are not much different toby, maybe you should grow the hell up, not my fault youre a fucking twitching psycho !" you snapped, blinking your tears away and immediately regretting what you said.

his eyes widened, a small huff of a laugh coming out as he approached you, hand squishing your cheeks. your lips smushed together, his grip quite literally bruising your face, "wanna say that again? watch your fucking tone, bitch" he threatened.

your breath was shaky, eyebrows twitching before mumbling through clenched teeth, "twitching. fucking. psycho." and now, instead of a laugh, he slammed you against the wall with a small yelp from the pain in your spine

"how the hell am I gonna get you to shut up, huh? wanna be treated like the bitch you talk like?" he asked lowly, coming strangely close to your face.

you finally got the chance to see him close up, his eyes hanging low with deep circles under them, cheek torn, exposing his back molars with scarred tissue around. his skin was scary pale, but his lips were a dusty peach, dry and cracked. a light stubble coated his jaw line. his eyes bore into yours with a burning intent.

you couldn't muster anything from your vocal cords, his hand squeezing so hard he was holding your head against the wall. you could feel the pulsing rush to your temples. your eyes just flickered between his and his lips. squeaking a bit to be released.

"oh so she does? huh? say it again? wanna be treated like the stupid slut you act like?" he whispered, leaning into your ear.

his stubble tickled your own jawline, feeling it go straight to your core. the feeling bubbled in your stomach, but you couldn't feel if it was bad or good. you pushed your thighs together, letting out a shaky breath through your smashed lips.

he seemed to pick up on your subtle movements, "don't say a fucking thing, i might land my hatchet to your throat." he said letting go of your cheeks and undoing his belt quickly, dropping it to the ground with a clang of metal.

he pulled the collar of your shirt to meet him in the middle of the room, gripping the back of your head and shoving it to his face. your lips smashed against his with a gasp before your eyes fluttered closed and hands found place on his chest. the kiss was warm and sloppy, spit mixing and tongues fighting. he shoved his wet muscle so far into your mouth he could feel the warmth of your throat, leaving you gasping for air when he pulled away.

he shoved your head down with the grip on your hair, making you fall to your knees. your eyes came level with his fully hard cock straining against his jeans. you looked up at him, opening your mouth to speak before he shoved his fingers into your mouth.

"dont speak" he repeated, "gonna undo those, or suck it through the pants?" he asked with a teasing smirk, watching your cheeks flush.

your hands reached up and unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper slowly and yanking at his jeans. they fell and pooled around his ankles, his boxers leaving a thin separation between you and his cock. your shaky hands came up and pried at his waistband, pulling carefully. his fingers shoved farther down your throat, spit dripping down your lips and tongue swirling around his digits.

his cock sprung free, sticking right infront of your face. he was big, not just in length, but he was thick. you've only ever done this one other time in your life, before you killed your parents, with your boyfriend. this was going to be a challenge compared to him.

toby removed his fingers and gripped your hair again, "whatcha waitin on, slut, cmon" he cooed, pushing your lips closer to his raging tip.

he was already spilling pre-cum, you reached up, gripping his length and running your thumb over the slit. he sighed and repositioned his feet, hands tugging you harder. your lips met with his tip, opening slightly and taking it into your mouth. the slightly salty and tangy taste of him swirling around your taste buds as you circled your tongue around his tip. he bit down on his lip, watching you take him further down, your hand pumping what you couldn't take yet.

"fuck- cant believe I wasted so much time avoiding you when you coulda been chokin on my dick, hm slut?" he scoffed, watching your teary eyes flicker up to his.

you kept your eyes on his as you sunk your head down more, his tip hitting the back of your throat. you were so wet and warm, the gargling sound you made when you pulled back at went at him again. you bobbed your head, your hand meeting your pace at his shaft. he tilted his head back in pleasure, trying his best to stay quiet. he looked back down at you, biting his knuckles and huffing. a tear slipped down your cheek as you choked again, trying to get more of him down. and that did it for him.

he grabbed your ponytail and kept you still, fucking his cock deep down your throat with the thrust of his hips. he was angry, and aggressive, watching you cry and choke around him. it wasn't until you were clawing at his thighs and blue in the face before he pulled out, watching you gasp for air. the sight before him left him almost speechless, you on your knees, spit glistening around your lips and down your chin, tears rolling down your cheeks and smeering your makeup everywhere.

"shit man, can't believe I've been missin out on you, you've been here this whole time too" he muttered, yanking you back up from under your shoulder and smashing his lips against yours.

you stumbled a bit, but he wrapped his arm around your waist and laid you down on the edge of his bed, "gonna let me stuff you full, hm? want that, baby?" he asked, his hand reaching to your face and wiping a few tears.

you nodded, leading into the softest touch hs given you tonight, relishing in the moment. he pulled off his shirt, letting it fall somewhere on the floor before reaching for the hem of yours. he pulled it off quicker than anything, leaning down and sinking his teeth into the part of your breast that stuck out from your bra, making you yelp. Toby's teeth broke skin and drew your blood out.

he pulled off, licking his lips from the irony taste "fuck- that sound, shut up yeah? lemme fuck you." he said, hands falling down your sides and tugging your shorts off along with your panties.

he noticed the slick that stuck to your folds and between your thighs, "god you are fucking dirty- that wet from sucking me off?" he laughed, reaching under your thighs and shoving your legs over his shoulders.

you widened your eyes at him, throat hoarse as you tried to speak, "toby- too big!" you pleaded, before gasping as he bent your knees to press against your chest.

he lined himself up with your soaked cunt, sliding his tip into your slit, running it up and down and pressing against your clit. you shot your head back, crying out over the sensitive pearl. his hand reached up and pressed around your neck, before finally aligning his cock with your entrance.

"just try not to scream" he warned, pushing in quickly with a relieved sigh.

he gave you no time before abusing your pussy, watching the way you started crying again, thrashing and gripping at his limbs to stop. but he knew your cunt better, the way your walls gripped at him, practically sucking him back in. he watched your face, his pace quickening once your eyes rolled back into your head. he gave no mercy, hitting your cervix over and over again. the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the walls. not even processing the manor full of other people.

"yeah like that, whore? that's what it took? get ya all dumb and fucked out on my cock?" he asked, sweat dripping off his forehead and he leaning over your face.

you couldn't do anything, the way he slammed into you over and over. he fried your brain, your nerves succumbing as the pool in your gut grew. the band tightening with every hit you took to your womb. the room was hot and sticky, strained breaths and slick pumps gnawing at your ears. his grip tightened around your neck, cutting off your airway completely. that seemed to rile him up more, watching you struggle in his grasp while he pounded relentlessly into you.

he felt himself growing close to his climax, picking up his pace. "gonna let me fill ya up, hun? want that?" he asked breathlessly, letting go of your neck and griping under your knees.

I gasped, biting down on your lip before arching your back off the bed and whimpering out for him. your hands tried to find anything to hold onto, nails clawing at his shoulders and scratching his shoulder blades. you felt your gut snap, a moan elicting from your swollen lips as you came around his cock, walls squeezing him tighter.

"yeah there you go, fuck, feel so good, all mine hun, gonna treat your cunt so good baby" he murmered, hips stuttering as he reached his own peak.

he stopped once he spilled into your hole, warm ropes of his seed filling your cunt sweetly. he groaned, trying to catch his breath. he pumped into you a few more times, this time slowly and sweetly. when he pulled out, he watched his spill fall and drip from your stretched entrance. he backed away completely, gently holding your legs before setting them down on the ground.

"shit-" he breathed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. he walked around, slipping his boxers back on and finding a towel for you.

he leaned down and wiped you up gently, your hips jerking when he came in contact again, "no wait- cant-" you stammered, sitting up quickly. he reached up and pushed you back down.

"dont worry, jus' cleanin ya up, hun" he said quietly, finishing and throwing the towel somewhere.

you laid there, staring at his ceiling. you were now completely aware of what was happening. toby walked around the room, collecting all the strewn clothes and setting them in a pile next to his bed. you sat up quickly, your hair absolutely ruined and makeup smudged.

"I'm so sorry- I should go" you said throat scratchy and dry. you stood up, your knees weak and muscles straining.

toby watch you before grabbing your waist and helping you get back into your clothes. "need help to your room?" he asked with a slight laugh.

you shook your head, walking to his door and swinging it open. you looked back at him once more and smiled a bit, "I'll try not to bother you anymore- sorry for being annoying" you stated simply, going to walk out.

toby walked up after slipping his shirt on, oh. he had completely forgot he hated you. maybe he didn't, maybe he just was mad he couldn't have what you had. and couldn't have you. he stopped the door from closing and pulled you back, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"dont worry, hun, keep doin what you're doin, think I'm warming up to ya" he mumbled with a shrug, giving you a small smile.

you smiled widely back, leaning up on your toes and kissing his cheek before shutting the door.

you tried to fix your makeup as best as you could along with your hair. you were looking at the ground as you walked slowly to your room. when you finally looked up, tim was standing there with a grim look on his face.

"hope you know other people live here too" was all he said before retreating down the corner.

you swore you'd never show your face again, while toby was probably proud of his antics.

____________________________________

author note: uhm hey guys what did this turn into I really didn't know what to do like how do I make hate sex bc I don't wanna make it literally noncon like huh what is hate sex so im sorry if the end wasn't what u wanted IM SORRY PLEASE guys motivation was from : @noctiva I LOVE YOU pls enjoy

#creepypasta #fanfiction #creepypasta x reader #xreaders #x reader #ticci toby x you #toby rodgers x reader #tobias erin rogers #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby #smut #tim wright #jeffery woods #ben drowned

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joelmillerisapunk · 21 hours ago

Text

Bottoms Up

bfd!Joel Miller x bfstepdad!Arthur Morgan x f!reader//7.1k

summary: a threesome sex pollen fic where two men kiss

warnings: mdni, 18+, 2 dicks one hole (I am not going for realism this is a sex pollen fic) reader is tipsy, oral m! and f! receiving, alcohol, sex pollen, age gap (reader is in college, make the men however old you want but they are dad's to a college-age girl), Arthur is married Joel is not, shitty moodboard

notes: this is for @yxtkiwiyxt 's nhie challenge. My prompt was never have I ever hooked up at a party with Joel Miller. If any of these warnings or the summary put you off, please move on and do not put yourself through this. A big huge thank you to my baby @thundermartini for holding my hand big on this one, sitting with me through my always never-ending moodboard crisis, helping with the title last minute, cheering me on, reading the smut, listening to me talk about this in between the other 5 million fics I have going for like a month and a half, and just being such an amazing human always I love you more than you know <3 A massive thank you to @arcanefox207 for beta-ing this bad boy on such short notice, being such a wonderful human and hyping me up, and an equally massive thank you to @itwasntimethatdidit40 for reading this as well, being a huge cheerleader always for me and the sweetest lovebug. And of course thank you a million times to @almostempty for giving me the entire sex pollen idea and how to incorporate it. I love you all so very much!! <3 And tysm @/keerysquinnpage on pinterest for the pictures of naked men

masterlist

The evening air is cool, slipping through the cracked kitchen window as Joel rinses a coffee mug under the faucet. The quiet hum of the fridge is the only sound in the house, a rare moment of stillness since Sarah moved in for college. He doesn’t mind the mess she brings with her—the stray notebooks on the kitchen counter, the piles of laundry that seem to multiply like rabbits—but it means his nights often end like this, cleaning up after her, one piece of chaos at a time.

He glances toward the trash can, where the lid doesn’t sit flush. With a low grunt, he tugs the can out, ready to take it to the curb, but as he reaches for the liner, something crumpled catches his eye. His brows knit together as he pulls out the wadded piece of paper. Smoothing it against the counter, his frown deepens.

It’s a flyer. Bright neon colors advertise a college party—cheap beer, loud music, and the promise of bad decisions. His gut tightens as he reads the details. The address is printed at the bottom and the date and time stand out like a glaring warning sign: Tonight. 9 PM. Joel glances at the clock on the microwave—it’s already past ten.

His stomach tightens.

Sarah hasn’t mentioned anything about going to a party. She’s been quiet all evening, coming home from class and heading straight to her room, earbuds in, barely mumbling a “hey” when he asked if she’d eaten dinner.

Joel runs a hand over his beard, staring at the flyer like it might offer some explanation. A dozen thoughts flood his mind- the packed rooms, the loud music, the drunk kids stumbling into each other. He can almost see Sarah in the middle of it all—maybe drinking something she shouldn’t be, maybe with a boy who has no business being near her.

“Dammit, Sarah,” he mutters under his breath, tossing the flyer back onto the counter. His fingers itch toward his phone, and before he can second-guess himself, he hits the contact for her mom.

The phone rings twice before she picks up, her voice warm but wary, the way it always is when Joel calls unexpectedly. “Hey, Joel. What’s going on?”

“Have you heard from Sarah tonight?�� he asks, skipping past the pleasantries.

There’s a pause. “No, why?”

Joel exhales, gripping the edge of the counter. “She’s not here. Found a damn party flyer in the trash. Looks like it’s tonight. Think she’s there.”

Another pause, followed by a sigh. “Joel, she’s in college. Going to parties is part of the experience.”

“Yeah, and it’s part of the experience to make dumbass choices, too,” he shoots back, pacing the kitchen. “You know what these things are like. Cheap booze, god knows what else floatin' around. She doesn’t belong there.”

“She’s not a kid anymore, Joel,” her mom replies, her tone calm but firm. “She’s responsible enough to know her limits.”

“Responsible?” Joel lets out a sharp laugh. “She didn’t even tell me she was goin' out. Doesn't sound responsible to me.”

“You can’t hover over her every second,” she snaps, her patience clearly thinning. “She’s figuring things out. You need to let her.”

Joel clenches his teeth, his grip on the phone tightening. “You call carin' about her hovering? I’m just tryna make sure she’s safe.”

“And I’m telling you she is,” her mom says, exhaling sharply. “Joel, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy with this. Let her have her fun.”

Before Joel can respond, she hangs up. He pulls the phone from his ear and stares at the screen, his jaw clenching as frustration boils in his chest. Let her have her fun. The words echo in his mind, making his stomach churn. Maybe her mom can sit back and hope for the best, but Joel can’t. He won’t.

Pulling his jacket off the back of a chair, he grabs his keys and heads for the door. If Sarah is at that party, he’s going to find her. And she damn well better have a good explanation.

_____________________________

Arthur shifts in his chair, the leather creaking softly as he glances over the edge of his book. He isn’t much of a reader—hell, Sarah’s mom teases him often enough about that—but every now and then, he likes the quiet. The house is calm tonight, the kind of calm that doesn’t come around much these days.

Across the room, she scrolls through her phone, half-watching one of those reality shows she claims to hate but never misses. It’s nice, Arthur thinks, this kind of simple peace.

Then her phone rings.

Arthur watches her pick it up, her brow furrowing slightly as she glances at the caller ID. “It’s Joel,” she mutters, swiping to answer.

Arthur sets his book down, leaning back as the conversation begins. He raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. He can’t hear Joel’s words, but he can imagine them—gruff, insistent, probably pacing a hole into the floor on the other end of the line.

When she finally hangs up, she lets out an exasperated sigh, tossing the phone onto the coffee table.

“Let me guess,” Arthur drawls, his voice tinged with amusement. “Joel’s got his panties in a twist?”

Her lips twitch, but she shakes her head. “He found some party flyer in the trash. Thinks Sarah’s there and is acting like it’s the end of the world.”

Arthur snorts, rubbing a hand over his chin. “Sounds ‘bout right. Man’s wound tighter than a spring.”

“It’s exhausting,” she admits, leaning back into the couch. “I told him she’s fine. She’s not a kid anymore.”

Arthur nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe. But Joel’s got his reasons for worryin'. Can’t say I don’t see his point.”

She gives him a sharp look. “Don’t tell me you’re siding with him all of the sudden.”

Arthur shrugs, standing and stretching as he grabs his jacket from the back of the chair followed by his hat. “Ain’t about takin' sides. But if he’s worried enough to call, maybe there’s somethin' to it. Kids these days, parties like that—” He shakes his head. “Best not to assume it’s all harmless fun.”

Her frown deepens. “You’re not seriously thinking of going, are you?”

Arthur shoots her a crooked grin, pulling on his jacket. “Well, somebody oughta make sure Joel don't storm in there like a damn cavalry charge.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue, muttering something under her breath as he grabs his keys.

As he steps outside, the cool night air hits his face. He slides into his truck, glancing briefly at the dashboard before starting the engine. Joel is probably halfway to the party already, tense as a coiled snake. Arthur can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips.

Guess I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t make a damn fool of himself.

The closer Joel gets to the party, the more his unease builds. He can hear the music from blocks away, the thrum of bass vibrating through his chest. His gut twists, each beat of the song an irritating reminder that his daughter, his baby girl, is likely in there somewhere. He parks his truck and steps out into the loud, chaotic scene.

The house is a mess from the outside, students drunkenly spilling out of the door and onto the front lawn, some of them barely keeping their balance. The closer he gets, the worse the place is—loud and cluttered with more students than Joel can count. He can already feel his blood pressure rising. As he reaches the front steps, a wiry kid in a tank top and backward cap blocks his path. The kid can’t be older than twenty-one and is clearly drunk, his glassy eyes scanning Joel with exaggerated scrutiny.

“Whoa, whoa, dude, hold up,” the kid slurs, holding up a hand. “You can’t just storm in here lookin' like that. You’re way too tense, man. Party vibes only.”

Joel frowns, his patience already running thin. “I ain’t here to party. I’m here to pick up my daughter.”

The kid squints at him, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “Nah, nah, can’t let you in all mad like that. House rules, bro. You gotta chill first. Like, take a shot, loosen up, and then you can go find whoever.”

Joel stares at him, his expression hardening. “I don’t have time for this. Move.”

But the kid holds firm, producing a tray of bright green jello shots with a flourish. “No shot, no entry. That’s the rule. C’mon, man, it’s just jello. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Joel exhales sharply through his nose, his patience worn to a thread. The kid in front of him sways slightly, the jello shots jiggling on the tray as he grins like he’s just presented the best damn solution in the world.

Joel doesn’t have time for this. He’s about to shove past the guy when a familiar voice cuts through the noise behind him.

"Well, ain't this a sight."

Joel turns just as Arthur steps up beside him, hands in the pockets of his jacket, that damn cowboy hat sitting low on his head like he owns the place.

Joel hates that hat. He’s hated it since the first time he saw it, sitting smug as hell atop Arthur’s head like some declaration of personality. The damn thing makes Arthur look too at ease, too comfortable in any situation—including this one.

The kid grins wider, apparently delighted by the addition of another older man to his party obstacle course. “Ayyy, two-for-one deal! Y’all both gotta take one. House rules, bros.”

Arthur glances at the jello shots and then at Joel. “You gonna play nice, or you plannin’ to deck this poor bastard?”

Joel glares. “I ain’t here for games.”

Arthur hums, clearly entertained. He plucks one of the tiny plastic cups off the tray, holding it up like he’s appraising fine liquor. “Hell, Miller, might as well get in the spirit.”

Joel’s jaw tightens. He is not in the mood for this nonsense, but Arthur’s already tipping the shot back, his expression unreadable as he swallows. A beat later, he clears his throat, grimacing. “That’s awful.”

The kid cheers like Arthur just won some kind of prize. “Hell yeah! Your turn, grumpy dude.” He shoves the tray toward Joel again, jiggling it obnoxiously.

Joel eyes the tiny cup like it personally offended him. His fingers curl into fists at his sides. Every second he spends out here, Sarah could be getting into trouble inside. He doesn’t trust these kids, doesn’t trust the booze, doesn’t trust any of this.

Arthur nudges him with an elbow. “C’mon, Miller. Ain’t gonna kill ya.”

Joel exhales through gritted teeth. Fine. If it gets this dumbass out of his way faster.

He snatches a shot from the tray, tilts his head back, and swallows it in one go.

Immediately, regret slams into him.

It’s sickly sweet and burns in a way that doesn’t belong in jello. His face contorts, and beside him, Arthur lets out a wheezing laugh. “Oh, that’s just nasty.”

Joel coughs once, shoving the empty cup back at the kid. “Happy?”

The kid fist pumps like a proud parent. “Vibe check complete, my dudes! Go forth and party.”

Joel doesn’t waste another second. He brushes past him, Arthur following close behind. The second they step inside, the heat and smell hit him—cheap beer, sweat, and something suspiciously skunky in the air. The bass rattles his ribs, and the sheer amount of people crammed into the space makes his pulse spike.

Arthur whistles low, glancing around. “Damn. Brings back memories.”

Joel ignores him.

Arthur sighs, rolling his eyes. “Right, then. Let’s go huntin’ hound dog.”

“Have you seen Sarah Miller?” Joel asks a couple of people milling about the entryway, but no one knows where she is. Some give him blank stares, others are too drunk to respond properly. His patience is thin.

He scans the crowd, eyes darting from room to room, trying to catch sight of her. The music pulses in his ears, every movement around him only adding to the feeling that everything is spiraling out of his control. Where the hell are you, Sarah?

A few steps into the living room, Joel freezes. His name cuts through the noise like a knife.

“Well, well. Joel Miller, at a college party. Never thought I’d see the day.” The voice is unmistakable—playful, familiar, and laced with just enough teasing to make his jaw clench. Joel turns, his eyes landing on you, Sarah's friend.

You’re leaning casually against the wall, a red plastic cup in hand, looking far too amused for his liking.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Joel demands, stepping closer, his tone sharp but quiet enough not to draw attention.

You shrug, a sly smile tugging at your lips. “Same thing everyone else is doing. Relaxing, having a good time. You should try it sometime.”

Joel’s scowl deepens. “I ain’t here for that.”

“Figured.” You sip your drink, your gaze never leaving his. “Lemme guess. Sarah?”

He nods tightly. “You seen her?”

“Maybe.” You tilt your head, there's a playful glint in your eyes. “What’s it worth to you?”

Joel lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face. “This ain’t the time for games, darlin’.”

You laugh softly, setting your cup down. “Relax, Joel. I’ll help you find her. You know,” you say, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you lean in slightly, “you clean up nice. Didn’t realize you’d turned into such a hot daddy.”

Arthur immediately coughs—more like chokes—his hand flying to his mouth as he fights to hold back laughter. “Oh-ho, now this is gettin’ good.”

Joel’s jaw drops slightly, his ears burning. “The hell did you just say?”

“You heard me,” you reply, unfazed. “Hot. Daddy. Don’t act so surprised—it’s a compliment.”

Arthur slaps a hand on Joel’s shoulder, grinning like a damn fool. “You know, Miller, I've been sayin’ you were gettin’ a little too soft in the middle. Guess the young folks got a name for it now.”

Joel looks like he wants the floor to swallow him whole. “You’re both somethin’ else, you know that?”

Arthur leans in slightly, smirking. “Yeah, well, guess that makes you Daddy Miller now.”

Joel’s groan drowns out your laughter as he rubs his face. “I swear to god—”

“Oh, c’mon, Daddy,” you tease, winking. “Let’s find your kid before you have an aneurysm.”

Arthur, still grinning, tips his hat. “Lead the way, darlin’.”

Joel barely has time to recover from your teasing before you grab his arm and start weaving through the crowd. His gruff protests are swallowed by the thumping bass and the loud laughter of drunken college kids. He follows reluctantly, still fuming but unable to shake the warmth spreading over his cheeks from your earlier comment.

“Where’d you see her last?” he asks, his voice low as his eyes dart around the chaotic scene.

You glance over your shoulder, smirking. “Patience, Joel. I’m working on it. You’re like a bloodhound, you know that? Just sniffing out trouble.”

He shoots Arthur a glare. “You comin’ or just standin’ there lookin’ smug?”

Arthur’s smirk widens as he follows. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Joel pushes through the crowd with Arthur close behind, his jaw clenched so tight it’s a miracle he hasn’t cracked a tooth. The bass rattles the floor beneath his boots, the house packed shoulder to shoulder with college kids shouting over the music, some already sloppy-drunk and stumbling. Every second that ticks by without finding Sarah makes his chest tighten, but what’s almost as frustrating is the bastard at his side.

Arthur, the smug son of a bitch, is clearly enjoying this way too much.

“Well,” Arthur drawls as they push past a couple making out against the staircase banister. “If ya told me you wanted to relive your youth, I’d have suggested a saloon instead of a damn frat house.”

Joel shoots him a glare, but Arthur just grins, scanning the room like he’s actually enjoying himself. “This ain’t a joke, Morgan.”

“Didn’t say it was. But you gotta admit—” Arthur gestures at the chaos, some kid throwing up into a plastic cup a few feet away, “—it’s pretty damn funny.”

Joel exhales sharply, fighting the urge to deck him. “Only thing funny is how I keep puttin’ up with your shit.”

Arthur smirks. “Aw, you’d miss me if I was gone.”

“Like I’d miss a damn splinter.”

Their back-and-forth is interrupted when a girl stumbles into Joel’s side, nearly spilling her drink down his shirt. She blinks up at him, eyes glassy, then lets out a breathless laugh. “Oh my god. You guys are, like, way too old to be here. Are you professors?”

Arthur lets out a barking laugh before Joel can answer. “Somethin’ like that, sweetheart.”

Joel shakes his head, muttering under his breath, and keeps moving. Arthur follows, still smirking, but then you step into their path, that mischievous glint in your eye returning as you block their way.

“Boys, please.” you say, arms folding across your chest.

Joel exhales sharply. “You know where she is or not?”

You hum, tilting your head, letting the tension stretch just a little longer. “Maybe.”

Arthur snorts. “She’s messin’ with ya.”

You flash him a grin. “Maybe I just like seeing Joel all worked up.”

Arthur laughs, shaking his head. “You ain’t the first.”

Joel rolls his eyes.

You step closer with a knowing grin. “Pretty sure she went upstairs.”

Joel stiffens, scanning the crowded staircase. His gut twists. Upstairs could mean anything—she could be safe, just hanging out, or she could be caught up in something way worse.

“I’ll check,” he mutters, already moving toward the stairs.

Arthur’s about to follow, but Joel shakes his head. “We cover more ground if we split up. Keep lookin’ down here.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so I get to stumble ‘round in a damn sea of drunk fools while you get to skulk off someplace nice and quiet?”

Joel shoots him a look. “You’d rather deal with the mess up there?”

Arthur considers, then sighs dramatically. “Fine. But if I get puked on, I’m makin’ you buy me a new damn coat.”

Joel just grunts, already halfway up the stairs, while Arthur turns back to the party. The moment you reach the second floor, the thumping bass fades slightly. The air is cooler up here, the chaos of the party reduced to muffled echoes below.

Joel glances back at you, suspicion in his gaze. “Where?”

You nod down the hall. “Last door on the left.”

Joel doesn’t waste a second, pushing forward. You follow, letting him step inside first. The moment he’s over the threshold, you swing the door shut behind you with a quiet click.

Joel turns, frowning. “What—?”

“She’s not up here.”

His brows knit together, realization settling in. “What the hell, darlin’?”

You take a slow step forward, and Joel—big, brooding, and absolutely clueless—actually takes a step back and sits on the bed.

“You seemed stressed,” you say lightly, tilting your head. “Figured you could use a break.”

Joel exhales sharply, shaking his head. “This ain’t funny.”

“Who’s joking?” You step closer, close enough that he can smell whatever sweet perfume clings to your skin. “Arthur can keep himself busy for a little while. And you… you look like you could use some help loosening up.”

Joel’s jaw ticks, his hands flexing at his sides. “Ain’t happenin’.”

You smirk. “Sure about that?”

Suddenly, the room tilts—not in a drunken, careless way, but in a slow, creeping blur. Joel sits on the edge of the bed, broad shoulders rising and falling with unsteady breaths. His shirt hangs open at the top, sweat beads at his temple, and his fingers dig into the mattress like he’s holding onto the last thread of his sanity.

Something is wrong.

You stand in front of him, warmth blooming in your chest—not from alcohol, but from the way he looks at you. His pupils are blown wide, his lips parted, his entire body wound so tight he looks ready to snap. He looks wrecked.

“Joel,” you murmur, stepping between his knees. Your fingers trail along his jaw, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. “You feeling alright?”

His throat bobs with a hard swallow, his whole body rigid beneath your touch. “Somethin’ ain’t right,” he rasps, voice thick with strain. “Shouldn’t be feelin’ this way.”

You smirk, dragging your fingers lower over the pulse hammering in his throat. “Feel what way?”

His jaw flexes, eyes darting away, searching for an anchor—something to ground him. But control is slipping through his fingers like sand.

“You,” he grits out, voice thick and strained. “You smell so damn good.”

Your grin widens, emboldened by the way his hands twitch at his sides, like he’s resisting the urge to grab you. “Maybe that’s just you finally admitting you want me.”

A low, ragged growl rumbles in his throat. Before you can tease him further, his hands shoot up, gripping your hips with a desperation that wasn’t there before.

“Don’t play with me, darlin’,” he warns, though the heat behind it is fading fast, cracking into something more vulnerable. His chest rises and falls unevenly, his pupils dark pools of hunger and confusion. “I—I can’t think straight.”

You lean in, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Then don’t think.”

Joel exhales sharply, body trembling beneath your touch, every muscle wound tight like a drawn bowstring.

Then the door creaks open.

“What in the hell?”

Arthur’s voice slams into the moment like a bucket of ice water.

Joel curses under his breath, hands jerking away from you like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. You turn to find Arthur standing in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame, his expression shifting rapidly from bewilderment to something sharper, more knowing. His sharp gaze flickers between you and Joel, taking in his disheveled state—the sweat at his temple, the way his chest heaves like he’s run a mile.

Arthur’s frown deepens. “You wanna explain why Miller looks like he’s ‘bout to keel over?”

Joel groans, squeezing his eyes shut, like he’s fighting off some invisible force. “Somethin’ was in those damn shots.”

Arthur’s face darkens. His jaw tightens, his hand dragging down his face as the realization clicks into place. “Oh, for fuck sakes.”

For the first time, you notice it—how Arthur's fingers flex restlessly at his sides, the faint flush creeping up his neck. The way his throat bobs when he swallows, like something is catching there, thick and unshakable.

You bite your lip, watching as Arthur exhales sharply. His usual composure cracking, just enough to reveal the heat flickering behind his gaze, the same one you just saw in Joel’s.

Arthur clenches his jaw, shaking his head like he can force away the sensation clawing its way up his spine. “This ain't happenin’,” he mutters under his breath, pacing in short, jerky steps, his boots scuffing against the floor.

But you see it. His fingers flex like he’s itching to touch. His gaze flickers to you, then to Joel, then back again, lingering just a second too long. He’s trying—god, he’s trying—to hold himself together, but his breath comes faster and his muscles tense beneath his shirt.

“Arthur,” you murmur, stepping toward him. Your fingers ghost over his arm, stopping his restless pacing. His muscles jump beneath your touch, his jaw locking tight as he flinches back like you’ve burned him.

“Are you feeling it too?”

A sharp inhale. A pause.

Then, in a voice stretched thin with restraint, he rasps, “Don’t.”

But there’s no real bite to it—just a desperate, fraying edge. His pupils are blown wide. His nostrils flare as his gaze flickers around the room—searching for control, finding none.

"You say that," you murmur, dragging your fingers down his chest, slow, teasing. "But you feel it too, don't you?"

Arthur’s pulse throbs under your fingertips, hot against your skin. His breath is uneven. “Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you.” The words break off, swallowed by a tightness in his throat that says more than he can put into words. “‘Bout—” He cuts himself off, like just the thought of it is too much.The way he trembles, the way his eyes darken—they’re confirmation enough.

You trace his torso before feeling the undeniable bulge beneath his jeans.

He tenses. A sharp inhale punches out of his lungs. His hips jerk forward instinctively, the thick heat of him twitching under your touch, seeping through the denim.

Arthur lets out a low, muttered curse, his resolve shattering like glass. Before you can say another word, his hands are on you.

It’s sudden—like a dam breaking. His grip is firm, almost bruising, as he yanks you in, crashing his lips against yours. Heat ignites in your veins, scorching and insatiable. You melt into him, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him closer. He groans into your mouth,his hands anchoring you to him, pressing you flush against him.

Behind you, Joel makes a strangled, guttural noise—something raw, something starved.

Arthur finally pulls away, his breath ragged. His forehead presses against yours, hands locked around your hips like letting go isn’t an option. His grip is possessive, claiming.

But Joel isn’t about to be left behind.

He exhales shakily, hesitation flickering in his gaze for only a second before he’s on his feet.

He closes the distance in a single step, his fingers threading into your hair, tilting your face up. And then his mouth meets yours. It’s different from Arthur—deeper, rougher, edged with something raw and desperate. His grip is sure, his hands sliding down your body, pulling you flush against him like he needs to feel every inch of you, needs to brand himself into you.

Arthur shifts behind you, a low scoff slipping past his lips. “Oh, come on, Miller.” His voice is rough, breathless, and laced with utter need. “You kissin’ her or tryin’ to romance her?”

Joel pulls back just enough to glare at him. “Least I know how to take my time, Morgan. You just gonna stand there and watch, or you gonna do somethin’?”

Arthur’s smirk is sharp as a blade. “You askin’ me to show you how it’s done?”

Before you can blink, Arthur’s hands are on you again, gripping your hips so fast your head spins. He tugs you against him, chest flush to your back, his breath hot against your ear.

“You wanna be handled right, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin. “You come to me.”

You feel it—the heat, the desperation, the all-consuming ache that quickly becomes unbearable. This isn’t just lust. It’s chemical. Something unnatural coils through their veins, winding tighter and tighter. Their hunger intensifies until it borders on agony.

“Sweetheart, you gotta tell us—" Arthur's hips jerk forward rolling against you and a strangled grunt slips from him. "—gotta tell us it’s okay, ‘cause I can’t, won’t be able to stop."

Your stomach clenches. The sharp spike of arousal sends a pulse of heat straight between your legs. They’re breaking apart, and it’s because of you.

You swallow hard, “I don’t want you to stop.”

Arthur hands are on you in a flash, tearing at your clothes like patience is a thing of the past. His lips scorch a path across your skin, demanding and relentless as his tongue explores every inch of you. He pants like he’s drowning and needs you to breathe.

Joel is no better. His large hands roam over your body, shoving under your shirt, his fingers greedily grabbing and kneading your skin.

“Darlin’, we gotta get this off,” Joel mutters, voice thick with need.

Arthur growls, yanking your shirt up and ripping it over your head in one rough motion, fabric flying to the floor. Your bra is next, unclasped in a single tug, his calloused hands immediately covering your bare skin, kneading your breasts, thumbs swiping over your stiffening nipples.

“You’re so goddamn soft,” Arthur rasps, voice wrecked, his palms mapping every inch of you.

Joel presses his lips to your skin, tongue teasing your nipples with slow, deliberate flicks before sealing around them with a hot, insistent pull. His hands trail heat down your stomach, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. He pulls back with a wet pop, breath warm against your skin. “Ain’t fair, Morgan. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

Joel growls, shoving your jeans down, gripping your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp.

Arthur’s fingers skim lower, finding you already soaked. His grin widens. “Fuck, sweetheart, you really want this, huh?”

“Yeah? How wet is she?”

Arthur drags his fingers through your slick folds before flicking his gaze to Joel, smug. “Why don’t you feel for yourself?”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. His hand joins Arthur’s between your legs, their fingers brushing, both of them feeling just how desperate you are.

A sharp inhale escapes you. The sensation—both their hands on you, teasing, possessive—sends a shock of pleasure straight through you.

Arthur chuckles, thick with satisfaction. “Damn. You feel that?”

Joel exhales sharply, grip tightening. “Oh yeah,” he grits out. “Feel that sweet cunt droolin’ for us.”

His fingers slip inside you, stretching you open, coaxing a moan from deep in your throat. Arthur watches, dark eyes hungry. “Gotta admit, I like hearin’ you make those sounds sweetheart.”

Joel scoffs. “Least I’m makin’ her moan.”

Arthur growls, fingers moving faster, pushing Joel’s aside like he’s reclaiming what’s his. “Let’s see who gets her beggin’ first.”

Both men grin, dark and satisfied, fingers still teasing through your slick folds. “Think she likes bein’ between us.”

Joel’s eyes burn as he watches Arthur’s hand disappear between your thighs. His jaw tightens. “Quit runnin’ your damn mouth and do somethin’.”

Arthur just smirks, fingers hooking into your panties and yanking them down, damp fabric sliding over your thighs.

“You’re a fuckin’ dream.” Joel murmurs.

Arthur scoffs. “Ain’t just gonna tell her. She deserves to feel it too.”

Joel steps back, eyes dragging over your body, chest rising and falling heavily. Arthur does the same, lips parted, a groan slipping from his throat.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Arthur mutters, fingers tracing the swell of your breasts, down the curve of your waist. “Ain’t never seen anythin’ prettier.”

Joel hums in agreement, hands following the same path, like he needs to memorize every inch of you.

Arthur’s the first to move, unbuckling his belt with a swift pull, letting it drop with a heavy clink. He shoves his jeans and boxers down, stepping free. Your breath catches.

Not to be outdone, Joel shrugs off his shirt, muscles flexing as he makes quick work of his jeans. When they fall, your mouth goes dry.

They’re both… big.

A nervous thrill rushes through you, anticipation crackling along your skin like a live wire. Arthur smirks, catching the way your eyes widen.

“Somethin’ catch your attention, sweetheart?”

Joel exhales sharply, a ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Bet she’s wonderin’ how she’s gonna take us both.”

Heat floods your cheeks, but the pulsing need between your thighs overpowers any hesitation. You reach for Arthur first, fingers wrapping around the base of his length, feeling the sheer weight of him. His head tips back slightly, but his eyes never leave you.

Not wanting to leave Joel waiting, your other hand wraps around him, fingers curling, testing. He sucks in a sharp breath, muscles tensing beneath your touch.

“Fuck,” Joel mutters, voice strained.

Arthur chuckles, breathless. “She’s got a good grip, huh?”

You lick your lips, heart hammering as you stroke them both, hands moving in slow, deliberate motions. The power of knowing you’re the cause of their unraveling sends a rush of arousal straight through you.

You lean in, taking Arthur first, tongue flicking against his heated skin. His hips jerk, a low growl slipping from his throat.

Joel’s hand slides into your hair, fingers threading through the strands—not to control, just to feel, to anchor himself as he watches you.

Arthur exhales a shaky breath, fingers flexing at his sides. “Hell, sweetheart… keep that up, and I ain’t gonna last.”

Joel chuckles, rough and strained. “Guess I gotta see what all the fuss is about.”

You glance up, meeting their hooded gazes before switching—lips leaving Arthur to wrap around Joel, your hand still working him as you take him deeper.

The sounds they make—needy, desperate, barely held together—send heat pooling between your thighs.

Arthur strokes a hand down your back. “You look so damn good like this, sweetheart.”

Joel exhales sharply, grip in your hair tightening just slightly. “Yeah, she does,” he agrees, voice ragged. “Come on, darlin’. Need you on the bed. Now.”

You barely hit the mattress before Arthur is on you. His mouth is hot, insatiable, kissing you like he’s got something to prove. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, messy and frantic, like he’s trying to erase every other man you’ve ever kissed. His hands grip your skin with urgency, mapping out every inch of you for himself.

Joel isn’t far behind. He crawls onto the bed, big hands sliding up your body. “Goddamn, baby,” he rasps, “you feel so damn good.”

Arthur drags his mouth down your throat, biting at your collarbone, fingers flexing against your hips as he grinds against you, shameless and eager. “Can’t stop touchin’ you,” he mutters, breath coming in heavy, hungry bursts.

Joel watches Arthur roll against you, sees the way your body arches for him, and lets out a low, frustrated sound. His cock twitches. His fingers dig into your thighs, possessive, patience unraveling.

“Goddamn,” he grits out. “I need you.”

Arthur’s head snaps up, eyes dark and burning. His chest heaves. “We need you,” he corrects, voice rough, daring Joel to challenge him.

You whimper, heat pooling low as Joel meets Arthur’s stare, something dangerous passing between them. Then Joel moves, fast, gripping your chin, tilting your head back into a deep kiss. His tongue sweeps against yours, stealing your breath, swallowing your sounds like he owns them.

Arthur watches with an intense gaze, his chest rising sharply. “Shit,” he mutters, voice strained.

Joel chuckles darkly. “Ain’t no stoppin’ now, Morgan.” He smirks, taunting, then glances down at you, his touch slow but deliberate. “She needs us.”

Arthur swallows hard, gaze flickering over you, taking in your wrecked state. His cock is flushed, leaking, aching. The sight of you between them, desperate and wanting, nearly drives him insane. “Then let’s give her what she needs.”

Joel’s fingers trail over your breast, rolling a nipple between them. You arch, whining, and his voice drops to a rasp. “Look at you. So goddamn beautiful.”

Arthur groans in agreement but refuses to let Joel take the lead. He moves lower, mouth dragging down your stomach, hands gripping your thighs, pushing them apart. He inhales sharply at the sight of your slick heat. “Christ, sweetheart,” he murmurs, stroking through your wetness. “All this for us?”

You nod, breathless, fingers tangling in his hair. “Please,” you whisper, wrecked with need.

Arthur doesn’t hesitate. His tongue flattens against you, moving with slow, devastating precision, determined to ruin you for anyone else.

Joel shifts beside you, watching, stroking himself. “Fuck,” he mutters, his free hand tracing over your trembling thighs. “You like that, darlin’? Like him eatin’ you out while I watch?”

Your answer is a broken moan. Your fingers tighten in Arthur’s hair as he sucks your clit, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through you. He pulls back just enough to rasp, “Wanna feel you come on my tongue, sweetheart. Be a good girl for me.” Then he’s back on you, relentless, holding you down as you writhe.

Joel grits his teeth, watching you fall apart, his strokes turning rougher, breath ragged. “Goddamn it.” His gaze burns at the way your body shakes, how your moans break into gasps.

It doesn’t take long. Pleasure coils tighter, spiraling until it snaps. You cry out, thighs trembling as you come. Arthur groans against you, licking you through every wave, refusing to stop until you’re shaking.

When you finally sag against the mattress, panting and wrecked, Arthur pulls away, wiping his mouth. His jaw is slick, eyes dark with satisfaction. “Think she liked that.” His fingers stroke over your inner thighs, teasing. “Sweet as honey.”

Joel clenches his jaw, his cock thick, heavy, flushed a deeper shade than normal. “Fuck,” he growls, gripping your thigh, spreading you wider. His voice is rough, raw with hunger. “Need to be inside ya, darlin’.”

Arthur chuckles, breathless. “That so?” He shifts up, hovering, smug. “Think I should get a turn first, Miller.”

Joel’s eyes flash. “Like hell you will.”

They hold each other’s gaze, both rock hard, both determined. Neither will be satisfied until they’ve both had you.

Arthur shifts back, but not in surrender. A challenge. He lets Joel take his place between your legs, then leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs, fingers teasing down your stomach. “Tell him whose cock you wanna feel first.”

A needy whimper slips past your lips. Your legs spread wider in silent invitation. Desperation threads through your voice. “Joel—please.”

Joel groans, victorious, guiding himself against your entrance. “That’s a good girl.”

With one brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, knocking the breath from your lungs. You whimper, still trembling from your release, but Joel hushes you, voice softer now. “You can take it, baby. You want it bad, don’t you?”

The stretch burns, but it’s a sweet, aching pain drowned out by the desperate pulse of need. Joel presses his forehead to yours, his breath ragged, his hips already snapping into a deep, unrelenting rhythm. He’s relentless, making up for lost time, proving something with every thrust.

Arthur exhales sharply, his cock twitching at the sight of you unraveling beneath Joel.

A deep, broken moan rips from your throat, your fingers digging into Joel’s biceps.

“Hell baby feel so good,” he grits out, head dropping to your shoulder. “So goddamn tight.”

Arthur watches, smirking. “Damn, sweetheart. Feels good, don’t it?” He tilts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Bet you’re squeezin’ him so fuckin’ tight.”

Joel’s jaw tenses. “Ain’t gonna last if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Arthur chuckles darkly. “Then I better make it worse.”

His hand drifts lower, brushing featherlight over your swollen clit. The jolt of sensation sends a wrecked moan spilling from your lips.

Joel curses. “Son of a bitch—”

Arthur grins, circling slow, lazy strokes, watching you shudder. “What’s wrong, Miller? Too much for ya?”

Joel growls, slamming deeper. “I can handle my fuckin’ business.”

Arthur doesn’t stop, his murmured praises filthy and relentless as Joel fucks you harder, driving you into his hold. “That’s it, baby,” Joel rasps. “Takin’ it so fuckin’ well.”

Arthur presses a kiss to your jaw, fingers working you over. “Come again, sweetheart. Let him feel you clench up nice ‘n tight—then it’s my turn.”

Pleasure coils in your belly, overwhelming, consuming. Arthur watches, his grip tight around his cock, stroking in quick, eager pumps. His jaw flexes, frustration flickering in his dark gaze before he moves.

No hesitation. No warning. Just action.

His hands grip your hips, shoving Joel’s hold aside like he’s claiming you for himself. Joel doesn’t even glance back—but his fingers tighten, sensing exactly what Arthur’s about to do.

Arthur spreads you wider, pressing in beside Joel, the stretch sharp and immediate. Your body struggles to take them both.

Joel curses, breath wrecked. “You feel that, baby? Takin’ both of us like you were made for it.”

They move in tandem, one pulling out as the other pushes in, a brutal rhythm that has you seeing stars. The pressure, the stretch, the way they fill you—it’s too much, too good.

Joel’s head falls back, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as his cock grinds against Arthur’s with every deep thrust. Skin slaps, breaths tangle, and they stretch you to your limit.

Then Arthur grips the back of Joel’s neck, crashing their mouths together. It’s rough, desperate—teeth clashing, tongues fighting for control.

Joel groans into the kiss, hips snapping harder, like he’s trying to fuck you so good Arthur can feel it too. He fists a hand in Arthur’s hair, yanking him closer, deepening it with a low, wrecked sound.

The sight makes your head spin. The way they lose themselves in each other, needy and ravenous, it’s intoxicating. You reach between them, wrapping your hand around Arthur’s cock pulling it from its warm home, slick from where he’s been inside you.

Arthur jerks, gasping, his eyes blown wide. He moves, shifting toward your head, his cock brushing your lips in silent demand.

You take him in, hollowing your cheeks, sucking him deep. Arthur curses, fingers twisting in your hair, guiding your movements.

Joel’s thrusts stutter, then recover—harder, relentless. “Jesus christ,” he grits out, watching the way you take Arthur. His cock twitches inside you, throbbing. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

Arthur groans, hips jerking. “That’s it, sweetheart. Takin’ us so damn good.”

Joel’s mouth crashes back to Arthur’s, their kiss messy, desperate. They groan into each other, bodies moving in perfect rhythm—Joel stretching you open, Arthur hitting the back of your throat, pleasure spilling over in waves.

The tension builds, unbearable. Joel’s grip tightens, thrusts turning erratic before he shudders, spilling deep inside you with a wrecked moan, forehead pressed to Arthur’s.

Arthur isn’t far behind. His grip in your hair tightens as he comes, thick and hot down your throat, his moans swallowed by Joel’s mouth as they kiss through it. His free hand flexes against Joel’s neck, holding him close even as his hips still.

For a long moment, the only sound is ragged breathing, the slow cooling of sweat-slicked bodies. Joel presses his forehead to yours, fingers smoothing over your waist, grounding himself. Arthur trails lazy patterns over your skin—unexpectedly gentle after the desperation of moments ago.

Joel finally breaks the silence, voice low and hoarse. “What the hell was in those shots?”

Arthur lets out a breathless chuckle. “Just know I ain’t never felt somethin’ like that before.”

You hum, fingers threading through Joel’s damp curls as he nuzzles into your neck, his body still half-draped over yours. “Guess that makes three of us.”

Arthur’s fingers ghost along your hip, voice quieter now, but dark with something possessive. “Y’think it’s outta our system?”

Joel’s hand slides over your stomach, flexing like he’s already thinking about round two. “Hope not.” His smirk brushes against your skin before he nips at your shoulder. “Ain’t done with you yet, darlin’.”

Arthur chuckles, warm and dark against your ear. His teeth scrape your pulse, his hand gripping your thigh. “Reckon neither am I.”

taglist:

@harriedandharassed @syd-djarin

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader #joel miller #arthur morgan #tlou fanfiction #red dead redemption 2

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03den · 3 days ago

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bfhamzah headcanons - sfw & gnreader

a.n: i do not know hamzah personally and do not believe this represents how he actually is/acts irl. i yap i yapped and i will continue yapping

( i feel like hamzah isn’t the type to fall just for anyone from one night to another. he gives me vibes of friends to lovers / friends to fwb to lovers troupe. his love grows gradually and he might only take his feelings seriously once he feels like he actually knows you, so you’d probably be friends for quite a while before it flourishes to sth else )

his primarily love language is acts of service. as soon as you mention anything he can help you with, he’s already putting everything to the side and standing up! oh, you need groceries for your ap? he’ll drive you and help you go through the list. your wi-fi is malfunctioning? dw, he’ll look into it. he might complain once in a while but it’s simply just to tease you — something like “your wi-fi is so trash i had to restart it twice this morning”. for him acts of service are also more than just helping, it’s his way of showing he cares and that he listens. e.g: if you mention liking * snack, don’t be surprised to see it laying around in his kitchen next time you come over

i also feel like he’s somewhat big on quality time. although editing and managing two youtube channels does keep his schedule busy, hamzah likes to be near you. js being in the same room as you—even if silent and both of you r focused on your own tasks—is enough for him. when not working, he likes to b js lazy with you too. he likes to stay in bed w you for hourss, not necessarily cuddling & to stay w u on the sofa, just slouched near each other watching cartoons. he holds those moments dear in his heart

there r still obvious exceptions where he takes you out to do sth, but he’s not overly romantic nor is he into that stuff. i can see him preferring a stay-at-home dinner date and cooking you your preferred meal than going out to a restaurant for a romantic dinner. but overall the places i imagine he’d take you r all a bit funny — laser tag, bumper cars, pet store js to look at the animals, etc..

he just isn’t much of a fan of grand romantic gestures, specially not in public or in front of cameras, so do not expect a lot of pda from him. most of his physical touch in public would have a playful insinuation, more pestering than romantic; smacking or pinching your tight, resting an arm on your shoulder like a deadweight, randomly poking your sides, and pulling your hood over your face.

it all still comes from a place of love though, and as time passes, there’s a progress on his srs and casual display of affection. if sitting down, his hand will start resting on your knee or tight while talking; if walking tgt on a busy street in front of the camera, his hand might reach for your wrist and grab it gently. if you’re outside and cold, instead of being all gentleman and giving you his hoodie/jacket, he’ll js pull you into it with him. and as time passes, appearances of kisses on the cheek and eventually on the lips on videos will start being more casual as well (outside of youtube, it all depends on how many people are around. he usually tries to be discreet with his smooches).

don’t get it wrong though, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like physical affection. in private, that man is all over your space. he’s touchy and clingy, hands always on you even if subtly. his teasing touches in public turn into something more caring and loving in private. if he’s used to mess up your hair to annoy you, when it’s just the two of you he’ll absentmindedly stroke through it. the putting-his-bodyweight-over-you-till-you-complain also turns into him being half on top of you most of the time, whether it’s draping himself across your lap, resting his head on your shoulder or flopping onto you when you’re lying down

actually, while on that, something i feel like he definitely loves is laying his head on your lap or chest. he for sure lovesss when you run your fingers through his hair too even if he doesn’t directly says it. he will even shove your legs apart js so he can lay between them. also! i have seen people say this but i’ll repeat it, he loves manhandling you and he will casually do it for no necessary reason. lowkey back hugs is also sth he likes — no dramatic embrace, js arms wrapped loosely around you and his chin resting against your shoulder

notices everything about you. your favorites, your hates, your comforts, your distresses… he’s so fast to understand and tell apart your moods too. i wouldn’t say he feels too confident in his reassuring, although he always does it and it always helps you

he texts/calls you a lottttt. def tried to be nonchalant at the beginning of your friendship but he quickly gave up. so, now that you’re dating? forget about double texting—the normal is for him to quadruple text

words of affirmation are not his strong suit. he tries his best and you’re also patient with him, but still, ‘i love you’s will take their time to be heard out loud. he prefers showing it over saying it

omg i have so many other hcs ideas.. maybe i’ll do a part 2. hope u enjoy these for now! sorry for any possible grammar errors btw English is not my native language

#🗻.hamzah #🗻.headcanons #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah fluff #hamzah imagines #slushy noobz #out of character podcast #4freakshow

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hughesbrothersfanpage · 12 hours ago

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Stay Home With Me

Jack Hughes x Zegras!Reader

WC: 1.6k

Summary: Jack wants to go golfing with the guys, but you have other plans for him.

Warnings: SMUT! oral (m receiving), dirty talking, brief mention of balls (sorry), F!reader but no use of Y/N, Jack thinks it’s kind of funny that he’s banging his best friend’ sister

A/N: I know I promised a Quinn fluff first and I swear to GOD it’s coming but I’ve been having an AO3 author level bad few weeks and somehow it’s easier to write a bj than anything romantic rn. Also more Hughes!Sister insta edits coming soon!

Jack thinks you’re asleep as he tiptoes around the room getting dressed as quietly as he can. You’re wide awake, though, plotting and scheming to get him to skip golfing with the boys and spend the day in bed with you.

They’ve gone three days in a row now, eighteen holes each time, and you’re dying for some alone time with your boyfriend.

You’re still pretending to sleep when Jack leans over you to press a kiss to your forehead. “Bye, baby,” he whispers.

It’s then you pounce, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him down to your chest.

“Oof,” he winces as his arms give out and you trap him.

“Don’t leave,” you whine.

Jack laughs, lifting his face to kiss you softly. “I gotta go babe, the guys are gonna want to leave any minute.”

One of your hands drifts from his back, coming up to gently trace his lips. You’ve got a small pout on your face, and Jack couldn’t possibly find you any more endearing.

“Stay home with me.” Your thumb pulls gently at his bottom lip and Jack feels his resolve begin to crack. He goes to protest, but you’re quick to cut him off. “I will blow you right now if you stay home with me.”

Jack’s mouth falls open. “Right now?” he asks, cheeks burning bright red when his voice cracks from excitement.

“Right now,” you confirm. He pulls himself from you in a flash, nearly running to the door and pulling it open.

“Hey, guys?” he calls out. “I’m not feeling so hot. You go ahead without me today.”

There’s loud laughter from downstairs. “I told you not to eat that sushi in the fridge! It smelled off, man!” Trevor shouts up at him. Jack smirks to himself. If only Trevor knew what he was really up to. Your brother would probably knock his head clean off.

There’s a chorus of ‘goodbyes’ as Jack closes the door. You’re sitting up in bed now, staring at him like you’re going to eat him alive. He can’t wait.

“Take your shirt off, handsome,” you command softly. He ditches his hat and shoes quickly before tugging his shirt up and off. “You’re so pretty, Jack,” you murmur as you stand and make your way to him.

With a hand on his chest you back him up until he hits the wall. You take your time unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, going so slow that Jack feels like he’s losing his mind. You’re even more mean when it comes to his underwear, palming him through his boxers until he’s on the verge of tears. You take pity on him eventually, freeing his dick from his underwear and pressing small kisses around the head.

Jack whines. From base to tip, you trace the vein on the underside of his cock with a flat tongue. His thighs shake with effort, struggling to stand from the feeling of your lips and tongue on arguably the most sensitive part of his body. Jack is a mess of broken moans and muttered curses as you do everything but put it in your mouth.

“Baby,” he whines, well beyond caring how desperate he sounds.

You pull away, replacing your tongue with your hand, stroking him slowly. Your thumb brushes over his leaking tip with every pass, and you revel in the way he shudders.

“I’ve been trying to get you alone for four days, and you’re telling me you can’t handle a little teasing?”

His face burns red at your condescending tone, but his dick twitches in your hand anyway. You rest your face on his thigh, looking up at him with doe eyes as you wait expectantly for his answer. The way you bat your lashes leaves his mind totally blank. All Jack can do is watch slack jawed as you flick your wrist lazily, your grip just loose enough to deny him any real relief.

“I want you to ask nicely, Jack,” you murmur before mouthing at the skin of his hip, leaving a few love bites in your wake.

He whimpers, honest to god whimpers, chewing at his bottom lip. “Please,” Jack croaks.

He cries out when you pull your hand away. “Please, what? Use your words,” you chide.

“Put it in your mouth baby, please,” Jack begs.

You smile up at him. “See? Now was that so hard?”

Any reply he might’ve come up with dies on his lips as you take him into your mouth. He throbs as you swirl your tongue around the head.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good to me,” he grunts.

You hum as you take him further down your throat, using your hand to make up for what doesn’t fit. One of his shaking hands grips the edge of the doorframe, and the other tangles itself in your hair. He guides your head as you suck him off, grunting softly when you hollow your cheeks.

The feeling of your mouth is dizzying, and you look so pretty on your knees for him that he’s already embarrassingly close. You pull off for a moment to catch your breath.

“You’re incredible,” Jack moans as you stroke his cock.

You smile but don’t answer. Instead, you duck your head and run your tongue over his balls. “Oh, fuck!” Jack yelps. You can only hope that all of the boys are gone, because if even one of them is home, the two of you are fucked. “You are so fucking hot. I don’t deserve you, I-“

You cut off Jack’s rambling by taking him back in your mouth, as deep as you can handle until he hits the back of your throat. His hips thrust involuntarily, and you gag around his cock. You take it like a champ, breathing through your nose and never letting up your pace.

“Fuck,” Jack cries. “You’re so fucking good, I’m so close baby.”

You caress his thighs softly as he nears the edge, putting all your focus toward blowing his mind. His hips stutter, and he cums down your throat with a loud groan. Slowly you pull away and stick out your tongue to show you swallowed.

Jack helps you up from your knees and kisses you gratefully. He tries slipping you some tongue, but you pull away.

“Jack, I have blowjob mouth. I’m gonna brush my teeth, you get back in bed. You’re mine for the rest of the day.”

Jack grins as he nods. “Yes ma’am,” he replies.

He looks so good when you return, sprawled over the bed in just his boxers, hair falling perfectly over his face. You want to devour him all over again.

By the time the guys get back from golfing, you and Jack have fucked in your bed, the shower, and the kitchen.

The kitchen had been a close call. You’d both still been panting, reveling in the afterglow of really good sex, only just pulling your underwear back on when you heard car doors slamming. With a shriek you’d bolted back to your room, stumbling hand in hand up the stairs with Jack who couldn’t stop laughing.

Now you’re laying together in bed, trying to catch your breath, in absolute stitches over almost being caught. When the burning in your lungs subsides, you sigh and snuggle into Jack’s open arms, suddenly exhausted.

“Tired, baby?” he asks, brushing some hair away from your flushed face.

“Mhm,” you mumble, pushing your face into his neck.

His hands slip under your (his) tshirt, rubbing firm circles over your overworked muscles. “We can take a nap,” he says quietly.

“Mmm.”

Jack can tell you’re on the verge of passing out, so he just smiles and continues to massage your back. Your bliss is harshly interrupted when someone bangs on the door.

“What?” Jack yells, annoyed.

You’d forgotten to lock the door, so your brother pokes his head in. Thank god the covers are pulled up, hiding your nearly-naked lower bodies.

“We got lunch. You feeling any better?” Trevor asks.

Jack nods, biting back a smart comment. “Yeah, had a migraine but it’s better now,” he says instead.

“That’s good, man,” Trevor replies. “Well, we got pizza. Come down before it gets cold.” He goes to shut the door, but pauses. “And for the love of god, Jack, put on a shirt.”

Your cheeks burn, hidden in Jack’s neck. You haven’t moved an inch, hoping Trevor assumes you’re asleep and leaves. It works, and you prop yourself up a little as you hear the door click shut.

“For the love of god, Jack, put some pants on too!” you giggle, snapping the waistband of his boxers.

“Hey,” he whines. “I haven’t had pants on all day and you haven’t complained once.”

“I have to put on pants too,” you try to compromise. “No one wants to see the hickeys on my thighs.”

Jack scoffs. “I do!”

You kiss him softly before swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “Well then you better come with me and eat lunch. After that, I’ll take my pants off and we can have that nap I was promised.”

Jack reaches for the pair of sweatpants he’d left on the floor that morning when getting changed and pulls them up his legs. By the time he gets a shirt on, you’ve slipped back into your pajama pants and one of his old sweatshirts.

“Shit, babe, my legs,” you groan, unsteady on your feet, thighs burning and more than a little sore.

Jack grins, beyond proud of himself. “Keep it together, sexy. Your brother would freak if he knew what we were up to while they were gone.”

You shake your head as you reach for the doorknob. “He still hasn’t forgiven you for the first time he walked in on us. He nearly punched you.”

A small smirk makes its way to his lips. “He did punch me, after. And it was totally worth it.”

#jack hughes #jh86 #zegras!sister #zegras!reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #luke hughes #quinn hughes #trevor zegras imagine #nhl imagine #nhl smut #cole caufield smut #cole caufield imagine #quinn smut coming soon #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you

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neoyuno · 1 day ago

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butterflies | jww (m)

backstage rendezvous with your boyfriend, or wonwoo receives an award from the star of the night who happens to be a great singer iykwim

Pairing | idol!wonwoo x popstar!reader

Genre + warnings | established relationship, smut—oral (m receiving), slight voyeurism, sex in semi-public places, (consensual) erotic photography, dirty talk, petname usage, softdom!wonwoo, kissing

Word count | 2.3K

Notes | surprise! hope you love some 🎤ing wonwoo backstage 💋 can be read as a stand alone, or read other parts here!

Good to Me (M) & No Biting (M)

“Baby, you’ll get lip gloss on your face. I can’t ruin your makeup.” You try pushing him away but his hands grip your waist firmly, keeping you in place against the vanity in the comfort of your assigned dressing room backstage.

His eyes scan you from head to toe and back, fingers coming down to play with the exposed part of you leg due to the slit in your dress.

“You look so gorgeous in this dress.” He merely replies, “Can’t wait to go home and give you your 5th award of the night.” He smirks and you blush, grasping his biceps over the fabric of his black suit.

“Fifth? I’ve only won three so far.” You smile when his lips made contact with your neck, kissing and licking softly. “And I was was nominated for four only.”

“And you’ll win the fourth one too.” Wonwoo groans against your neck when he hears a soft moan leave your lips. “And the fifth is right here.” He places your hand over his pants, the very obvious outline matching the hard feeling in your palm.

“Wonu, I can’t, I need to perform in 40 minutes…” you want to push him away, you really do, but the way his lips dance against your skin is incredibly addictive.

“Let me eat you out, then.” His smirk appears once more before he leans and bites your lower lip, earning a gasp from you.

“I can’t, I’m wearing a one piece under and I can’t take this whole thing off, baby.” You sigh and he pouts at you. “But I can help you, sit down.”

“No, baby… you don’t have to.” The way his eyes soften makes you want to jump him even more. “You’ll ruin your makeup.” He says sweetly, but the smug smirk on his face told you everything that was in his mind.

“I’m getting my makeup re-done before going up. Sit down.” You push him, but he doesn’t budge. “I can’t let you go back out there with a boner. Not to boost your ego, but it is too noticeable.” He quirks an eyebrow at the last thing you say and you roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah? And why is that?” He asks with a smile when you push him softly, obviously not with enough force to make him sit down—but he does as you ask.

“Do you want me to suck your dick or not? Because I can just leav- oh!” Your rambling is interrupted when you feel his strong hands grip your ass over the 4 layers of puffy fabric.

“Can I photograph us?” Wonwoo asks and your eyes go wide at such a request. Your boyfriend had a vast collection of intimate photos of you (that he developed himself and kept safe). Photographs varying from tame lingerie pics that could easily be normal magazine shoots to incredibly crude pics of you spread out in bed, covered in his cum and fucking yourself with your fingers.

These photos, however, were all taken in the privacy of your or his home, never in public or semi-public places—but the fact that he was asking it tonight made you incredibly needy.

“You just look incredibly pretty tonight and I need to remember how pretty you’ll look with these glossy lips around me.”

His hand reaches out to your face immediately after your knees bent to squat in front of him, caressing your cheek before he dips his thumb beyond your lips and onto your tongue, earning himself a soft moan from you.

“Mhm, but I need to be quick. I only have 15 minutes before I get called into makeup.” He nodded and removed his thumb from your mouth to grab his camera from your purse—a cute and expensive digital camera that had snapped many of your memories as a couple.

Your hands trail from his knees and up his thighs, stopping right before his pelvis to squeeze the meaty part of his thighs. Despite having barely touched him, you can tell he was already loosing control, the way his dark eyes stare at you through his specs told you everything.

“Look at me, baby.” With the camera pointing at you, you put on your best pleading eyes as your two hands lay softly on his clothed erection. A white flash instantly graced your face and your boyfriend shifted on his seat.

“So fucking perfect…” Wonwoo groaned and you giggled softly as your fingers curl under his waistband—long, manicured nails slightly scraping the skin under his belly button—to work on unbuckling his designer belt in efforts of freeing his (not so) little friend.

Wonwoo couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath when you fingers make contact with his sensitive bulge after unbuttoning his pants.

“Do I really look that good that you are this hard?” You gasp, slightly shocked upon discovering his red glistening tip and the accented vein up his shaft.

Your wide eyes adorned by the sparkly purple eyeshadow and curly long lashes was just about enough to throw him over the edge. He couldn’t point what it was about you tonight that made you look like you descended from Heaven and into his arms—or between his legs, if you may.

“So fucking beautiful.” He cursed lowly, “please…”

Your hand reached out to engulf his shaft, a sharp hiss leaving his lips at the sudden touch of your cold hands. The embellished nails made your hands look even prettier wrapped around his cock as you slowly pumped.

“I can’t wait for this thing to be over.” You muttered before leaning forwards to kiss his tip, the leaking precum mixing with your shimmery lipgloss, earning a moan from your boyfriend. “I want to ride you so bad.”

“I promise I’ll let you ride me when we get home, angel. But you’ll have to let me taste you first.” A groan interrupted his talking when your mouth engulfed the head of his cock, the wet warm feeling sending goosebumps up his body. “Fuck, such a good girl…”

“Take a photo.” You said before engulfing his head again, your soft hand pumping his shaft lazily as he snapped another shot.

“I wish you could see just how pretty you look with your mouth stuffed.”

A hum escaped your throat at the taste of him, you absolutely loved having him in your mouth—his reactions enough to bring you pleasure. Wonwoo sneaked his free hand to interlace it with yours, his thumb mindlessly caressing the back of your hand, while your other hand pumped whatever your mouth wasn’t covering.

“I have never wanted an award show to end so fast before, can’t we make an excuse and leave?” He groaned when you removed him from your mouth to run your tongue along the pretty vein in his shaft—another shot taken, making you smile before kissing his length.

You giggled at his voice, shaking your head slightly before swirling your tongue around his tip. “Don’t you think it would be weird for the rest of Seventeen to be here and it so happens that both Wonwoo and ____ left?” You kissed down his length. “Wouldn’t that be suspicious? You want your fans to find out their sweet Wonwoo just couldn’t wait to fuck his girlfriend, whom they think is his best friend?”

He groaned loudly and you panicked for a second before remembering that due to the event outside, his groans were the last thing people would be able to hear.

“Don’t talk like that, I can’t handle this…” he admitted, cheeks rosy and eyes droopy, which completely shut when your mouth sucked his balls without warning—drawing yet another loud moan from your boyfriend as he shivered.

“Mmm, you’re doing so well, baby.” Your boyfriend rasped as he fought the urge to run his fingers through your hair and make a mess of your pretty hairdo. Instead, he opted for taking a photo of your sparkly eyes and hollowed cheeks sucking his balls.

“I swear every time you taste better.” The saliva pooling on your tongue made it easy to glide up from the base of his shaft to his frenulum, where it lingered in teasing flicks.

“You’re so perfect…” even during the most crude moments, Wonwoo’s lips could only slip praises and compliments.

With a smile, you take a deep breath before engulfing his length once more, trying to fit him as much as you could. You could feel tears forming while you relaxed your jaw and breath through your nose—the tip of his cock kissing your throat deliciously. Wonwoo’s hands couldn’t help but tremble, camera falling on the floor as he struggled to contain a rough groan that ripped right from his chest. If it wasn’t for the fluffy rug under, his latest artworks would’ve been lost.

The fabric of your panties suddenly became sticky at the sound of his deep moans while your head bobbed around his cock. You were sure your makeup was ruined by now, there was saliva dropping down your chin and into the palm of your hand which stroked the generous part your mouth couldn’t fit.

Upon seeing your shut eyes and feeling you gag softly, Wonwoo reminded you breath and take it slow.

“Slow down, baby.” He murmured lazily, “As much as I love fucking your mouth, I can’t have you fainting on me, my love.”

You could only whine at his words, your hips suddenly humping the air and pussy clenching, yearning to feel his big cock stretching you out and fucking you dumb. At that point you didn’t even care about your performance, let alone the last and most important award of the night.

All you wanted was to ride your boyfriend and have him fill you up until you were both in tears and too tired to move. Suddenly a knock on the door made you both freeze in place.

“Take it out!” Wonwoo whispered upon seeing you frozen, eyes wide and mouth still around his dick.

“You gotta be in makeup in 10 minutes, ____!” You heard your manager say, who spoke again after a minutes of silence. “Is everything alright?”

Your boyfriend urged you answer, but you couldn’t help but smirk. Removing yourself with a drag of your tongue that made him shiver, you then kept your tongue playing with his tip and your hands teasing his shaft and balls as you spoke.

“Yeah! Everything is great, I just needed to take care of some stuff before going out.” you heard you boyfriend choke a moan when you took half his length in your mouth again, making you giggle.

“Okay, you got 7 minutes! Don’t be late.”

“Mhm” you hummed and wonwoo’s eyes rolled to the back of hiss head at the vibrating feeling.

“I’m so close, baby…” his chest heaved, the slight cleavage of his shirt gave you a perfect view of small droplets of sweat glistening on his toned chest.

“You’re so good at that, princess.” He breathed out, your throaty contracting around his length made his shiver again. He couldn’t do much but fight the urge to grab you by the hair and chole you out like you like. “Keep going, pretty, I’m gonna cum and fill that pretty mouth of yours.”

Your pussy clenched around nothing at the sounds of his voice growing deeper and hoarse. The desire to have him cum in your face clouded your brain, but that would have to wait. A particular gag of your throat was the last straw to send him over the edge.

With foggy glasses, he gripped harshly at the arms of the chair he sat on, a harsh groan leaving his throat as he released his climax in your throat. The warm feeling of his thick cum going down your throat snapped the coil in your lower tummy as you swallowed him whole with a whine.

“Take it all, princess. Look at those pretty plump lips, pretty mouth full of my cum and no one will know. Did you just cum, baby?”

With teary eyes you managed to nod, gagging once more around his softening length before removing him completely.

“Such a good girl.” He whispered while pulling you in for a kiss, only huffing when you whined about his makeup being ruined. The salty taste of his cum was still fresh on your tongue. “Thank you, pretty.”

“I can’t believe you came from sucking me off.” He laughed as you sat on his lap for a quick cuddle.

“Shut up,” you playfully hit his chest. “I feel so uncomfortable right now, I need you inside me so bad.”

“Don’t tempt me, I’m only containing myself because you told me to.”

“I know…”

“If not, I would have you folded in-“

A knock on the door interrupted you once more.

“C’mon, ______, you have 2 minutes to get to makeup!” Your manager yelled from the other side of the door as you stood up and made yourself presentable.

“Going!” You yelled, turning to your boyfriend who was now fixing his pants and making sure his boner was gone. “I’ll see you later, baby. Wait a couple of minutes after I leave.”

Wonwoo gave you a quick peck before buckling his belt. As you placed your hand on the handle you turned to him again.

“I’ll hold you to the promise of letting me ride you later, by the way.”

“I’ll do more than let you ride me, pretty.” He winked as you left, crouching down to grab his camera and look through the photos. The sight of the earlier happenings only a preview of the long night awaiting.

NEOYUNO 2025

#wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #wonwoo x reader

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xo-adeline · 3 days ago

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"Thievin', stealin', takin' what's not yours..."

⋆°• ☁︎ - Courting Rituals

Feat. Ruggie Bucchi

AN: I had to do some research for this so if it's not entirely accurate I'm so sorry!!!

The first time that you have ever encountered the hyena beastman was strange to say the least…

The subtle way he looked at you as if he was almost scared of you, before starting to step closer just to back away in the end, and not only was this weird because it happened once, but no, this had happened multiple times! Would this go on for weeks at a time without him even saying anything? Hell yeah. Even the few times you did try to confront and talk to him about it he would turn tail and run before you could even get close to him, and knowing his athleticism, you would never be able to chase him down. You were stuck. Do you try to confront him about it again and ultimately fail? Or do you take the alternative route and try to ask somebody else about it? Jack? He was also pretty hard to catch, and mostly kinda oblivious to the things that the not-so official vice housewarden was up to. So he was out of the question. Leona? There was no way. He barely could get off his ass to eat, let alone help you for no reason at all. So what was left to do? Just let the weird getting close and back up again continue? You sighed at the thought of this going on for too long, that was until a few days later Ruggies behavior started changing again. The way he started to kick at the ground everytime that you were around, didn’t even matter where that happened to be. Seeing you when he was standing around at spelldrive practice? He was suddenly kicking some of the dirt towards your area, even if you happened to be behind him. In class? Suddenly his foot was pointed in your direction, even if nothing from the floors was actually coming up. Next to that was the constant grooming, once he finally started to get closer to you, regardless of the weird behaviors he was always showing. The constant grooming, always making sure his hair looked nice, even if he had just come out of practice, and even when he had just used his unique magic and was currently being chased down, he made it a point to at least look put together in front of you before worrying about his safety. That was until you had been hanging out with Leona (well more like he was trying to sleep and you happen to also be escaping the stress of school), and when Ruggie came to find Leona and found you sitting with him he seemed a little nervous, until coming up to you and crossed one arm over the other and bowed a little bit, and that’s when Leona had finally seen what Ruggie had been doing, and he let out a small laugh, a smirk now showing up on his slightly sleep dazed face.

“You do realize what he’s trying to do?”

You just gave Leona a confused look as he chuckled again

“Look at him, he’s clearly trying to court you..”

Your eyes widened as you looked back between Ruggie, who was now blushing pretty hard, and Leona, laying back on the grass, his arms behind his head, and his eyes closed.

“Before you two have that weird talk. Don’t do it here, I don’t wanna hear it.”

And before you or Ruggie could say anything he passed out. Curse him and his ability to fall asleep in 3 seconds. After, Ruggie looked back up at you, offering his hand, silently asking you to take it. When you arrived back at the comfort and privacy of his room when was he finally let your hand go and started to explain.

“Here’s the thing.. I like ya’ and I was trying to court ya’ but I guess humans don’t understand us like that, Shyeheehee!”

You smiled when he finally admitted it after months of trying to make a move on you, even if you weren’t fully sure that’s what he was doing. Luckily, after finally understanding you accepted him and you two started officially going out!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie #twisted wonderland ruggie #twst ruggie x reader #xo-adelinewrites

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rosenclaws · 2 days ago

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Over and Over Again || DOFP!Logan x Reader

Summary: Logan wakes up in 2023 in a brand new timeline. In this world you're still alive and you're married, but he doesn't remember a thing.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

wc: 3.5k

a/n: damn bro these song fics keep getting longer and longer lmao. Anyways here is my third instalment of a fic based on “Would You Fall In Love With Me Again” from Epic the Musical. I hope you like this one too! If you wanna read the other two you can find them here and here

Yesterday everything made sense. Yesterday you woke up next to your husband Logan, made coffee, graded a few essays, trained with Logan in the danger room, and then went to dinner. You kissed him good night and turned out the light to go to bed. Today? Your whole fucking life is being flipped upside down.

You knew something was wrong the moment you saw Logan standing barefoot in Charles' office. He had this look on his face. A mix between confusion and grief. A longing in his eyes that just didn't make sense when you had kissed him good morning only a few hours ago.

"You're alive?" Logan says breathlessly, his eyes widening as the words leave his mouth.

Realizing his mistake immediately. But he couldn't help himself. Not when the last memory he had of you was holding you as you died.

"Charles, what's going on?" You asked in a panicked voice. Logan, this Logan, your? Logan, reached out for you but you stepped back. You don't know why but you just did it. Though it's hard to see the hurt in Logan's eyes when you do.

"My dear," Charles says softly, his eyes darting from you to Logan.

"I think you should sit down for this."

You aren't the only one to be called into Charles office. Standing around you was Ororo, Jean, Scott, and Hank. Before you stood Logan with his arms crossed as Charles weaves a wild and frankly impossible story.

This Logan is not the man you knew.

He's from an alternate timeline where the X-Men were being hunted and eradicated, the world being over run by these things called the Sentinels. How everyone in this room was dead in Logan's world. The last chance they had was sending his consciousness back in time to stop the chain of events and according to Charles he had done it. He had saved the world and everyone in this damn mansion. But at the cost of his own memories, his own life in a way.

"Jean, please stay. I want you to help in attempting to get his memories back. The rest of you thank you and please do not tell anyone else about this." Everyone starts to move but you.

You stay seated in your seat, unsure of what to do. Do you go up to him? He's still your husband after all, but is he? You feel his eyes staring into your head as you finally make your move and get up. Walking right up to him.

"Hi, Logan." You say softly.

"Hi." You bite your lip nervously as you try and think of something to say. There's this awkward tension between the two of you. Something you haven't felt since you first met. Though you guess this is technically a first meeting. It's really confusing.

"Logan, shall we begin?" Charles cuts through your thoughts. You don't want to leave, in fact you have a million questions that will pour out once you figure out how to talk to him. But it's going to have to wait.

"I uh...I'll find you after." He mumbles, his hand moves to cup your face but he stops before he can actually touch you.

"Yeah, I'll see you after." You smile awkwardly and gently grab his hand, giving it a small squeeze before leaving. Logan wants so badly to hold on, to tighten his grip and never let you leave his side. But he can't. So he just lets you go.

You waited. Hours passed and you heard nothing from Logan or Jean or Charles. Every hour you'd pass by the office, hearing muffled voices coming from the other side of the door. It was tearing you apart just waiting for them to be done. But that's all you can do.

By the time the sun goes down you give up on waiting for Logan. Slinking to a small corner of the mansion. What if something horrible happened? What if they can't get his memories fixed and he'll never remember what your life was like together. How you met, how you fell in love, how he proposed, your first dance. Did he truly forget it all? You rest your head in your hands as you listen to the grandfather clock tick and tick.

Or...does he remember it all. Does he remember it and regret it? You're dead in his timeline. So what if you two were never meant to be together, what if he remembers both timelines and...he doesn't want you anymore.

You trudge back to your room, wanting to just sleep. Maybe when you wake up tomorrow this will all be some insane dream. Unfortunately you forgot that you share a room with Logan. As you open the door you see him sitting on the bed. A cigar in his hands as he stares out the window. Though he quickly turns around when he hears you.

"Hi, again." He says, snuffing out the cigar.

"Hi." Fuck can you say any other word but hi to his man?

"How did it go with the professor?" You ask, wringing your hands together behind your back. Logan shrugs and the look on his face doesn't give you much hope.

"Not great." You just nod, unsure of what to say next.

"I um, Chuck set up another room for me so...I'm gonna sleep there tonight." Logan winces as he sees your face fall. He doesn't want to be apart from you but it's what's best. He needs to sort out his...well everything. Besides, he's practically a stranger to you now.

"Oh." You squeak out.

"If that's what you want." It's not.

Still Logan just nods his head and stands up, grabbing a few things and silently slipping past you.

"Room 246. I'm in room 246." He tells you, staring at you one last time before leaving you alone in your bedroom.

You sleep like utter shit. You're so used to having Logan by your side that being alone just fucking sucks. You miss him so much. You contemplated going to his room but you didn't think he wanted you there. Logan has another session with Charles in the morning. You only see a glimpse of him before he disappears into the office. You wonder if he feels just as miserable as you do.

The next week is filled with the same tension and unbearable awkwardness. It's like he's a ghost. Only there when you turn around, out of the corner of your eye. You hated it. God it was awful, you longed to be next to him. For him to hold you again, kiss you. You don't even know why he's avoiding you. Logan had always been difficult when it comes to opening up but Logan, your Logan was getting better at it.

It's well into the night and you're still sitting in an empty classroom. You don't really sleep in your bed anymore. It reminds you too much of him. There's a couch near your desk anyways. With Logan in memory recovery you have been covering his classes. You sit in silence as you grade the latest test when you hear heavy boots approaching you.

"It's late," You look up to see Logan leaning against the doorframe.

"I know, but I need to get this done." You gesture to the stack of tests next to you.

"You need to sleep, I've noticed you haven't been doing that much." Your heart skips a beat, has he really been keeping tabs on you like that.

"I'll be okay Logan, really." You say gently. But your answer isn't good enough for him. You watch as he walks over to your desk and grabs half of the tests and a red pen.

"Logan It's fine really," You argue but he doesn't listen.

"What if-" You stop yourself before you finish the question.

"What if my history is different? Don't worry sweetheart I went back to the 70's not the civil war." The nickname rolls of his tongue with ease, he doesn't even realize he said it until he sees you get shy.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Logan apologizes, silently kicking himself. He never should have come here. He just. He just really misses you.

"Don't apologize, It's just been a while since you called me that." You try to hide the soft smile by propping a paper up to block your face. Time passes, the only sounds being the scribbling of pens.

"Damn, Was I that bad of a teacher?" He asks as he crosses out a whole paper in red pen. You giggle and Logan looks up, a smile on his face as he hears that sweet sound.

"You're not a bad teacher, you're the favorite actually. Though sometimes you play favorites with your students." You tease, remembering how easy Jubilee could get out of being late just by bringing Logan coffee in the morning.

"Favorite? I doubt that." He snorts, Logan isn't exactly the fresh faced happy go lucky teacher that you bring an apple to. In fact he never considered himself much of a teacher of anything.

"It's true, you're tough on them but they just love you." "That doesn't sound like me." Logan jokes, though he quickly regrets his word choice when he sees your eyes cloud with sadness.

"I..." He sighs, great he fucked this up already.

"It's okay, sorry I just, I'm still getting used to all this." You offer him a small smile but he can see right through it. You're still his wife after all and he knows you.

"How are you? This must be a lot for you." You ask, turning the conversation away from you.

You've been so focused in your own grief that you hadn't given what he must be feeling much thought. You start to feel guilty, I mean this can't be easy for him either. Logan sets the red pen down. Sighing as he runs his hands through his hair.

"I'll be alright sweetheart," He doesn't want you to worry about him.

"Please, talk to me." You reach your hand out.

Your left hand. The one with the wedding band still sitting on your finger. Logan's breath hitches as he recognizes that ring. It's a little worn from the years of wear but he knows it. He bought that ring for you a long time ago.

"I feel like a ghost. I remember my old timeline and Jean and Charles have been able to unlock bits and pieces of this one but it doesn't feel real." He admits.

"Do you regret it? Changing the timeline?" You ask and Logan shakes his head.

"No." Not at all. In fact even with all this confusion he would do it again in a heartbeat. Anything if it means you're alive. You start to ask another question but a yawn cuts through your words.

"Alright, it's bedtime now." Logan says with little room for argument. He gets up and heads to the door but you don't follow. He turns around to see you laying out a blanket on the couch.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You jump at the harshness of his voice.

"I've been sleeping on the couch the last couple nights." You say casually.

Though to Logan it's like a knife to the heart. Not on his watch. You roll your eyes seeing the look on his face, that protective grumpy look.

"It's comfortable and my room is too far, I'm just going to take a short nap. You grumble. You always were stubborn and Logan knows there's no changing your mind.

"Fine." He shuts off the lights and walks over, sitting on the edge of the couch putting a pillow on his lap.

"Logan..."

"Come on, just a nap right?" You're too tired and if you're honest too selfish to pass this up.

To be this close to Logan again is a dream. You settle down with your head in his lap groaning as your head sinks to rest on his big thighs. Logan drapes a blanket over you, his hands coming to rub your back in a gentle soothing motion. It doesn't take long before you're out like a light. Drifting to sleep faster than you have all week.

When you wake up you're not in your classroom anymore. In fact you're in a bed with the covers tucked in and the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Just a nap right?" You mimic in a high pitched voice as you get out of bed. It becomes very clear the moment you spot the clothes in the corner of the room that this isn't your bedroom.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out who's it is. You take one of the pillows and hug it to your chest. The smell of Logan's cologne wraps around you. Fuck you missed waking up next to him. You gently set the pillow down and swipe one of the shirts sitting on the floor before darting back to your room.

"Good morning sweetheart, sleep well?" Logan asks as you walk into the kitchen.

"Yeah, I haven't slept that well in a couple days." You sigh as he hands you a cup of coffee.

You take a sip and to your surprise it's perfect, just how you like it. Before you can say another word Logan is already gone. The hope in your chest deflating just a little bit. But last night was the closest you've been since he came back. It's a step in the right direction.

It's another week of dancing around each other. You talk more, laugh more. He still sleeps in a separate room but you find yourself spending more time together. It's little things that you notice first. That he still hates pop music and he drinks black coffee. His favorite brand of beer is still Molson. In small ways it's like you have him back. But then you see that he picks the salt and vinegar chips over plain and it all comes crashing down again. How stupid is that? Heartbroken of his favorite chip flavor? But to you it's just a reminder that he is different. But does that even matter?

You find yourself drifting to sleep in your bed this time, holding onto Logan's shirt as a way to soothe you to sleep. But you're quickly pulled from dreamland by a loud knock on your door. It's frantic and quite startling. You throw the covers off and stumble to the door, throwing it open to see who's bothering you so late.

"Logan?" You ask half asleep, rubbing your eyes as you see him standing in front of you. You notice the fearful look in his eyes and it seems to snap you awake. You step aside and let him in.

"I didn't mean to wake you. I just needed to see you." He's tense and his eyes keep darting around the room, like he's waiting for an attack. Seeing you is slowly helping his brain but every time he closes his eyes his nightmare replays in his head. He looks down at his hand and swears he sees blood.

"Logan, come here." You take his hands, covering his palms with yours and guiding him to the bed.

"I don't want to bother you sweetheart," He mumbles, his resolve breaking pretty quickly as he lays his head next to yours.

"Tell me about it, your nightmare." He furrows his brows in confusion, how did you know?

"I know that look." You cup his face and smile. It feels so right to be next to him right now. Logan sighs, his hand covering yours as he just soaks in being next to you. That nightmare felt so real, probably because it was.

"It was the day I lost you. In my timeline."

"The sentinels?" You ask but he shakes his head.

"No you...you died before they were even created. Probably for the best. It was a mission. A simple one that went to shit so quickly." It was all Logan's fault. He woke up every day knowing that if he had been faster, been better. You would still be alive.

"They took advantage of my super senses, they overwhelmed me with noise and smells. I tried to fight through it I really did, but I was too weak." Logan feels you wipe his cheek, a tear he didn't even realize was falling.

"By the time it was over, you were fatally wounded. I held you in my arms. I begged you not to go. Not to leave me but it was too late." Your eyes cloud with tears as Logan tells his story.

The absolute grief in his voice, god how horrible. You don't know what you'd do if Logan died, how you'd even continue on. Yet this man kept fighting, kept saving peoples lives. Even when he wanted to give up and walk away.

That's the Logan you know. He'll always be the hero he never thinks he is. So what if there's a few differences. At his core Logan will always be the man you fell in love with.

"I'm so sorry," You whisper, you crawl onto his chest and hug him tightly.

Your face buried in his neck. He holds you tight. Breathing in the smell of your shampoo. He holds you for a long time before loosening his grip on you. The urge to stay like this forever is strong but there's a nagging in the back of his head. He's over stayed his welcome.

"I should get back to my room." He gently lays you back on the bed and moves to get up.

"What?" You ask in disbelief, scrambling to grab onto his arm.

"Please don't go Logan. Please the last two weeks have been horrible without you. I miss you, I miss my husband." You beg, tears falling down your cheeks.

"Sweetheart I'm not the man you married." He wipes away your tears.

"I miss you too. So fucking much. But it's best I keep my distance."

"Logan please! What do you mean you're not the man I married?!" You grab his shirt and pull him close to you. Logan grabs your wrists firmly but gently.

“You were my guiding light, the only thing that kept me going in the right direction. When I lost you, It felt like I lost myself." He tries to pry your hands off of him but you stand firm.

"I stayed with the team, I fought and killed and maybe they called me a hero. But it was never the same. I lost my way."

"But you saved the world, you're still my hero." Logan just chuckles sadly.

"I didn't give a fuck about the world." He confesses. He did care. Sort of. He knew that he was the X-Men's only hope when he got sent back. But his real motivation, his true motivation was you.

"Sweetheart, I may have saved the world but I did it for you. It’s always you.” He did it for the chance that he could save you, that somehow going back to 1973 would undo everything, that you'd be alive. He would sacrifice everything if it meant you got to live another day.

So when he woke up and saw that it had worked, he had never felt such relief. But the way you looked at him, you were scared. So uncertain. He couldn't just pick you up in his arms and kiss you like he had dreamed of. You were married in this world but he understood that he had essentially replaced the Logan that you knew.

So he kept his distance. The more he learned from Charles the more the other Logan sounded better. This Logan never had to stab Jean or watch his friends die one by one. How could he ever compare? He'd rather you be alive, even if it breaks his heart.

"I love you Logan, I love you so much." The words flood out of your mouth, unstoppable as you finally get the chance to see the truth about Logan.

"You're mine. Always. We belong together. Our love transcends timelines, universes, and all that bullshit."

"Don't you love me?"

"Of course I fucking love you don't you ever doubt that." He snaps.

He pushes you away because he loves you, he doesn't think he's worthy because he loves you so fucking much. He'd kiss the ground you fucking walk on if you asked.

"Then listen to me Logan." You grab his face and smash your lips on his, kissing him desperately.

Logan groans as he wraps his arms around your waist. You fall onto the bed, Logan propping himself up with his elbows. You tug on his hair, messing it up as you comb your fingers through it. You pull apart breathlessly, almost brought to tears from just getting to kiss your husband again.

"You're it for me Logan, forever." You mumble as he rests his forehead against yours.

"I love you too sweetheart, I missed you so much." He cradles your face in his hand, legs interlocked as the sheets become a tangled mess.

"How long has it been since you saw me?" You ask, Logans eyes filling with tears as he listens to your heart beat against his chest.

"Over 50 years." As the moon shines through the window the only thing on both of your minds is how lucky you truly are to have found a love like this.

To be destined to be together in every timeline, every world. It's you and Logan.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett angst #wolverine x reader #dofp logan

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squiddyfics · 3 days ago

Text

bad day

daeho x f!reader

description: you take (really good) care of your boyfriend after he's had a hard day at work. (au; no mention of the games)

18+ minors dni

warnings: nsfw, piv (no mention of protection), oral (m!receiving), daeho discovers he’s a sub

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You hum softly to yourself as you cook dinner for two. Your boyfriend will be home any minute, and you want it to be ready for him when he arrives.

Typically, you and Daeho alternate who cooks dinner each night. Considering you were lucky enough to have the day off, and he was called in for a grueling twelve-hour shift, you figure it's only fair for you to take on the duty of cooking today.

You're just turning off the stove when you hear him walk through the door. He usually announces his presence with an, "I'm home!" Today, though, he's silent.

Moments later, you feel a pair of strong arms slide around your waist. Daeho drops his chin onto your shoulder.

"Hi, my love," you greet him. You turn around in his arms so you're facing him. "How was work?"

He kisses you, then pulls back and sighs. "I don't want to complain to you, but... it wasn't great."

"You can always complain to me; I don't mind." You cup his cheek in your hand. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Honestly, no. I'd rather just forget that it even happened, if that's alright with you. Dinner smells amazing, by the way."

"Thank you. Go sit down and I'll get it ready for us, okay?"

You plate the food and bring it over to the table. You enjoy the meal, but Daeho, who typically eats enough to feed an army, hardly touches his dinner. He apologizes, stating that he doesn't have much of an appetite, and most of his serving goes uneaten.

Once you both finish, you clean up the dishes and pack the leftovers away in the fridge. Meanwhile, Daeho remains seated, rubbing his forehead. Just by looking at him, you can tell how physically and emotionally exhausted he is. When you're done tidying up, you return to him, planting a kiss on his head.

You tilt his face up so he's looking at you and say, "I'm sorry you're having a rough day."

"It's okay," he says, reaching out to grab your waist. "You make it a lot easier."

"Would a shower help you feel better?"

He gives you a cheeky grin. "Only if you come with me."

"Okay," you say. "Let's go, then."

Daeho raises his eyebrows, apparently shocked at your willingness to take him up on his request. He's not going to question it, though; he's silent as he follows you to the bathroom.

You turn on the water, and while it's heating up, you guide Daeho to sit down on the edge of the tub. You stand across from him and slowly begin to strip off your clothes.

He tries to reach up to pull at your waistband, but you push his hand down. "Not so fast. Just watch me, baby."

He raises his eyebrows, and his eyes remain fixed on your body as you take off the rest of your clothing at an excruciatingly slow pace. When you unfasten your bra and let it fall to the floor, he sucks in a sharp breath.

"Fuck, you're beautiful."

You kiss him chastely before stepping into the shower. "What are you waiting for? Come and join me."

You pull the shower curtain closed and begin to lather up. On the other side of the curtain, you hear the sounds of Daeho undressing. Moments later, he's stepping in with you.

You rake your eyes over his body, smiling in self-satisfaction when you see that his cock is hard already. You decide to ignore it for the time being, though, instead reaching up to wash his hair. His eyes roll back when you massage his scalp; you can tell he needed the attention.

You pour body wash into your hands and begin to work your way down Daeho's body, starting with his neck and shoulders. You massage him as you go, pressing the pads of your fingers into his biceps and causing him to sigh deeply.

When you reach his chest, Daeho grabs your arms and wraps them around his torso, pulling you in close as he kisses you. He rolls his hips against you and grabs your breasts, kneading them in his large hands.

As much as you enjoy what he's doing to you, you push his hands down once more and break away from the kiss. "Don't try to make this about me, babe. You've been working so hard; I want to take care of you tonight."

"My god," he says. "You really are perfect."

"Says you."

Your hands, still slick with soap, finally travel down to Daeho's erection. Your lips find his again as you stroke him with both hands. Your thumb circles the head of his cock while your other hand moves up and down his length. He moans against your lips.

"Does that feel good?" you ask softly.

"So good," he says, practically whining. "You're so fucking good."

He reaches down and runs two fingers across your slit, which is now dripping wet. He rubs circles on your clit. You throw your head back in response to his touch, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck.

"Ah—Daeho, stop," you say reluctantly. You remove your hands from his shaft. "Let's go dry off."

"No, don't stop. I'm sorry, I won't do that anymore. Please keep touching me."

"Don't worry," you say, enjoying the desperation in his voice. "I'm not done with you yet."

You turn off the water. After you both get out and dry off, you head to the bedroom, where you instruct him to lay down on his stomach. You proceed to massage his back and legs, working out the tension in his muscles and feeling him relax underneath you. You apply lots of pressure, just the way he likes it.

"You're amazing at this," he mumbles.

You continue for a while longer until he pulls you off of him. You land on your back on the bed, and he climbs on top of you. "As much as I was enjoying that, I really want to make love to you."

"Hm, I don't think so," you say with a smirk. "Get on your back."

"What? Why?" He looks shocked, but does what you say regardless.

"I'm going to make love to you."

You straddle Daeho, grinding against him as you kiss him. He places his hands on your hips, but you grab his wrists and pin them down on either side of his head. To your surprise, this earns a loud moan from him.

"You like that, huh?" you ask.

"I—I think so," he stammers, flustered.

"You just lay back and let me be in charge, baby."

Keeping your hands on Daeho's wrists, you let the tip of his cock enter you; it always takes you a while to get accustomed to his size. You moan at the sensation of him inside you.

You move up and down on top of him, allowing him to get deeper each time. Daeho bites his lip, watching you ride him.

"Please let me put my hands on your ass," he begs.

"I told you, you're not lifting a finger tonight," you say, trying to maintain an air of power in your breathy voice.

"I won't try anything," he says. "I just really want to touch you, please."

"Fine." You guide his hands onto you, and he grabs your ass. He's even gentler than usual; he seems to accept that you're in control this time, and he's acting accordingly.

You feel the pleasure building, and rub your clit to bring yourself closer to orgasm. Daeho tries to replace your hand with his own, but you move it back roughly, determined not to let him do any of the work. He's moaning more than he ever has before, and the sounds that fall from his lips are driving you wild.

It isn't long before your own moans become louder, and soon, a tremor courses through your whole body as you reach your high on his cock.

Your body stills, becoming too sensitive to ride him any longer. You lean down to kiss him, then drop your head into the crook of his neck. After regaining your senses, you begin kissing his neck, feeling his breath quicken.

You slide off of him and travel downward, leaving kisses down his torso until you reach his erection. You run your tongue up his shaft before putting the tip of his cock in your mouth.

"Oh my god," Daeho moans, and you look up to see him running a hand over his flushed face and through his hair.

You begin to bob your head up and down rhythmically, using both hands to stroke him at the same time. He's a gasping, panting mess underneath you, mumbling incoherently about how good you make him feel.

He places his hands onto your head and begins to guide your movements. You immediately take your mouth off of him, though you continue to pump him with your hands.

"Hands off," you order. He complies instantly, letting his hands fall onto the bed. "Good boy."

His breath hitches in his throat at your words, and you feel his cock twitch in your hands, a drop of precum leaking out. You lick it, looking up to see him gripping the sheets. Though Daeho has always been crazy about you, you've never seen him respond quite this strongly to you before, and you're enjoying every second of it.

You put his cock back in your mouth and continue at a steady pace, spurred on by his desperate moans. "Oh, fuck. Keep going, baby. Please don't stop, please."

You lift your mouth off of him again, quickly replacing it with your hand at the same speed so he won't lose the sensation. You can tell how close he's getting, and you want to watch his face when he climaxes.

"Be a good boy and cum for me."

"Oh my god, I'm—ah—" Daeho cuts himself off with a moan as the first spurt of cum shoots from his dick, landing on your lips.

You quickly wrap your lips around the head of his cock, and he rides out the rest of his orgasm in your mouth, his body practically convulsing with pleasure.

Once you've completely drained him, you sit up, using your finger to wipe his cum from your lips. He watches you intently as you suck your finger clean, pulling you into his chest.

"How are you real?" he asks breathlessly.

"I'm just trying to treat you right," you say with a giggle. "You deserved a night all about you. Plus, I think I learned something new about you."

"I think I learned something new about myself."

"Who knew you liked being called a good boy?" you tease, ruffling his hair.

Daeho blushes, covering his face with his hands. "Stop it."

"You're cute," you say. "Anyway, I know you had a shitty day, so I hope this helped."

"Definitely," he replies. "I should have bad days more often."

#squid game #mine #daeho #kang dae ho #player 388 #squid game oneshot #squid game smut #dae ho x reader #dae ho smut #squid game x reader

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softaestluv · 1 day ago

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Guard Dogs

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Neighbor! Reader

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, & Pt. 5 (final part!)

This chapter will contain smut! 18+ content!

Tags: Smut, Cunnilingus, oral, vaginal fingering, creampie

Summary: You were a proper good girl. Just like in his fantasies when he was a little boy. Ghost only looked to protect you from the evils of the world just like Riley. Your two personal guard dogs.

But maybe this is where he belonged, on the other side of the glass, staring at you from afar. Even if Riley wanted more.

Ghost used to believe he favored winter more than summer, despised sweltering days when sweat trickled from his mask. Gathered wet pools in his collarbone, dried sticky on his skin. At least during winter he could blame the cold in his home on the weather rather than the loneliness.

But now he isn’t entirely sure, not when he knows your warmth, makes the cold almost tenfold without you.

He decides it may just be when it brings you to his doorstep, rainstorm rumbling behind your standing figure. He lets you in despite running away from your home less than a week ago. Doesn’t let his pretty bird stand in the storm for long.

“My power went out, it’s dark and cold over there,” You explain, swiping your tongue over bitten dry lips, “Is it okay if I stay here until morning? I didn’t know where else to go.”

His girl was scared was she? Came to him for rescue.

Almost snickers at the irony, came to his home, the same walls he only felt alone and frigid in. Yet you stand at his doorstep, seeking refuge like he could provide you with the same warmth and comfort your home does, that you do.

So, he sets a kettle of tea for the both of you. Joining him quietly in the kitchen, leaning against the opposite side of the counter he is. He keeps his eyes on the stove, doesn’t exactly plan to fill the awkward tension with anything more than the boiling water. Small talk wasn’t his strong-suit, and he definitely didn’t want an explanation from you.

Why would he need one? The two of you were nothing but neighbors, friends if that.

However, the silence seems to bother you; he knows it does when you speak up, “How are you?”

“Been fine,” He huffs, handing a steaming cup of tea to you.

And because he doesn’t want to know how you and your new boyfriend have been he doesn’t ask.

“That’s good, I’m glad,” Give him a tight smile in return.

The room becomes silent again, the sound of both of you drinking tea fill the kitchen. Even after the both of you are done drinking, no words are said, gazes avoided as the light tapping of your fingernails against the glass replaces the slurping, loud even between the pitter of the rain outside.

“Don’t you get it?” You finally ask, laughing remorsefully under your breath, continue once he tilts his head at you, “It’s you.”

He still doesn’t understand what you mean, brows furrowing together under his mask.

You sigh, “There’s no one else, I don’t have a boyfriend. I was talking about you, Simon.”

“What are you talking ‘bout?”

“You’re who I have waiting for me at home. You’re who I want to spend time with. Who I want to come home to. Well I don’t mean it like you’re sitting waiting around for me, it’s just,” You begin to ramble, trying to explain your emotions while your face warms, turns the pretty pink he has grown to love.

The rest of your words don’t matter to him, his balaclava is forgotten on the floor, insignificant. A stupid barrier between him and his bird. Breaks the distance between the two of you in two quick strides. Has you hoisted on his kitchen counter in a second, lips stamped to yours. Your words swallowed down between his lips, dissolved into a muffled yelp.

It’s intense, cups his palms around your jaw so tightly you can’t even think about pulling away from him, but you kiss back with the same intensity. Makes his head spin at the sheer way you reciprocate, doesn’t think he’s ever been kissed like this before. Like your life depends on it. As if you intended to take the breathe from his lungs, trying to portray your emotions through your lips.

The past months poured out of his chest and into your pretty mouth, but your own desires fill his chest, leave him impossibly warm and full. The pain of just looking, watching for so long without being able to touch or taste had him digging shallow indents into your skin, didn’t want to let go. Though you don’t seem to mind his strong hold, only cling to him in turn, curling your arms around his neck. Trying to pull him closer as if your proximity wasn’t nearly enough.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He rasps against your lips, hot air blowing over your cheeks.

“Thought I was making it pretty clear,” You chuckle lightly, “Figured you didn’t want me like that.”

“Are you kidding me?” Simon says, “You don’t get it.”

Presses his lips against yours again, even if he has more he wants to say. Doesn’t exactly know how to balance pouring his heart out to you and sealing your mouths as one. So, he tries to do both, breathing hushed words between kisses.

“Thought it was too good to be true. You don’t get it,” He repeats, because, really, he thinks you don’t understand.

Don’t understand that he thinks you’re too good for him. That it doesn’t make any sense that someone like you would want someone like him. Broken and damaged when you were anything but.

Accepted what you were willing to give him without pressing for more, even if he wanted to fuse himself with every dimple and blemish on your body. He almost doesn’t believe it. It’s not what he deserves, some educated man should be in his spot. A man that isn’t tainted in filth and blood.

A better man.

And yet, you kiss him like he is the only who deserves you. Look up at him like he hung the fucking stars. He would— if he could, string them bright and twinkly above your pretty head.

Doesn’t think you truly understood how much his fingertips ached everytime he forced them to clench onto something other than your soft body. How hard he had to dig his teeth into his knuckles when he climbed into bed after he shared dinner with you. Stomach still full, pretty voice still ringing in his ears, cock heavy in his palms.

“You’re all I wanted,” He confesses, “Wanted to come home to you every day.”

Don’t understand that he never wanted anything more.

“And what if I did have a boyfriend?” You ask, “Would you just let me go that easily?”

Can’t help the way he holds you a little tighter. Something possessive burns in his throat now that he knows the taste of your lips.

“Don’t wanna think ‘bout that. Doesn’t matter anymore. I have you now, don’t I?” He grunts against your neck, breath warm on your skin, “Riley and I were yours, always. Tried to show you that.”

Your next words— if you can call them that, are nothing more than breathless quakes. Make his cock throb painfully in his pants; you’ve been nothing, but sensible, sophisticated, but now you sound so frail, impatient.

“Show me then, Simon.”

The way your gaze sharpens is cue enough for him, doesn’t need to be told twice. Won’t miss another opportunity or wait another second to make you his. He wasn’t exactly eloquent, couldn’t express what he wanted with his words. Opts to use his roughened hands the only way he knows how.

Takes your plump thighs into his hold because as much as he’d like to bend you over his kitchen counter, lap at your pussy like all the endless pies you’ve made him, he’d much rather prove he could satisfy you in his bedroom. Fuck you wet and sticky into his mattress.

It’s a mess of limbs, stumbling down the hall as you plea his lips not to leave yours for more than a second. He almost stops at his couch, bumping clumsy into it on his venture, but he decides splitting you in two over the arm would be for another day.

The kiss turns lewd as he carries you, smacking lips messily, saliva sloppily smeared against tongues and roofs of mouths, teeth knocking together. Though it doesn’t deter you, only slot your lips against his more earnestly. Barely manages to drop you onto his bed before you’re pawing at him to join you.

Yanks your clothes off like they personally offended him, feet and arms getting stuck in the tangles of clothes. His own follow soon at your sweet request, both of you stripped to your underwear.

It’s almost impossible to keep his hands on just one part of your body. Probably spends entirely too long palming your round breasts, pinching your pert nipples, kneads the doughy meat of your sides and hips. Large hands everywhere and nowhere at once, like he needed to touch every inch of your body, wasn’t enough until he did. Hypnotized by the way your supple flesh spills between his fingers, how you arch into his touch with breathy whines.

It’s overwhelming being able to touch you however he pleases after holding back for so long. Makes his touch that much more firm, calloused and scarred fingers scratching your smooth skin. Can’t fucking decide what he wants to do first because he wants to do all of it.

But when he descends between your body, peeling your underwear off so you lay bare for him, and his eyes land on your pussy, soaked and pretty for him, he loses all reason.

He spreads your thighs wide, must be hovering close, feel his hot breath on your wet cunt because you whimper a quiet ‘oh Simon, please.’

And because he can’t deny his girl of anything, especially when you ask so sweetly, his tongue swipes between your folds, dragging slowly to your clit. Something carnal washes over him as he repeats the motions like he’s pussy-drunk, intoxicated by the pretty noises you let slip past your lips.

Surprises himself when he groans deep and beastly against your sensitive flesh. Hadn’t even realized he had been making noises between each wet lap and harsh suck. Too inebriated by your arousal, melting on his tongue smoother than any plate you’ve placed in front of him.

Spreads your glistening cunt open between his thumbs, burying your face into the pillows from the way he openly examines you. Breaking you down and peeling you apart under his intense stare. He doesn’t mind too much, not when he drags a finger between your folds, dipping the full length into you. Causes you to snap your head forward, give him such a pretty moan when he plunges a second finger in. Spongy walls popping around his thick digits, slowly works you stretched and opened. Until he could comfortably burrow to the knuckle with each stroke.

Deliberately kept it slow, drawing out each glide so only his fingertips remained. Took his time breaking through your wet entrance, enjoyed the desperate little mewls you released above him too much to give you anything more. Strong and deft hands bring his pure girl ecstasy, gentle despite the way he’s used them to hurt others.

Wasn’t pleased until your thighs began to tremble either side of his head, hoists them on his shoulders to settle them. Smushed his face against the fat of your thigh, decorated the skin in his lips and teeth.

“More, more mmph— Simon, please.”

Can’t hide the smile that breaks across his lips, pressed teeth to your thigh from the way you whimpered his name. Sounded so pretty coming from your lips, begged so sweetly for him. He rewards you, wraps the cushion of his lips around your swollen clit and smothers his tongue over the bead in calculated strokes.

Your hips buck away from his stimulation, loud cry muffled against the sheets when he suctions the bead. A firm arm bands around your waist, holds you down to take it, wouldn’t let you escape his grasp that easy. Doesn’t stop until you finish on his tongue and around his fingers, hiccuping on your breaths as you stiffen. Your palm wrapped tightly around his wrist on your hip, dig indents into his flesh as he works you steady through it. Slick gathering in his palm and between his knuckles.

He rests between your thighs a little longer, not quite trying to overstimulate you, but rather staining your taste in his throat. Both of you basking in your orgasm.

When he crawls on top of you, you blink lazily at him, half-lidded and dilated. Swipe your thumb across his chin to wipe your collected slick off. He doesn’t let you move far, chases after your thumb and sucks it clean, makes you inhale a sharp breath through your teeth. Kisses the pad gently when he’s done, trails soft pecks down your palm and arm, over your shoulder to your chin. Stops when he reaches your lips, taking your chin between his index finger and thumb.

“Wanted to know how you tasted for so long,” He murmurs, lips brushing against yours with each word.

Your fingers find the nape of his neck, scratching at the short blonde hair, “Thought about you every night after dinner. Kept hoping you would just eat me instead.”

Simon’s eyes flutter, exhaling through his nose like a bull, “Was so hard to keep my hands to myself, you know that, sweetheart? Especially when you look like this.”

Emphasizes his words by squishing the plush of your hips, “Couldn’t stand thinking you were in some other blokes bed.”

Hooks his hand under your knee, pushing it higher slightly, adjusting his own hips between your legs. You’re soft and pliant, just how he imagined his girl would be, let him bend you how he sees fit.

“But you weren’t, were you?” He hums, “Just perfect and proper for me like always, huh?”

Nudges the bulb of his cockhead along your swollen folds, catching on your welcoming entrance.

You nod your head weakly, “Yes, Simon, only you.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck as he pushes forward. Puffy walls splitting open for him, stretch for his girth, slick aiding in the glide. Feels you dig your fingers into his shoulders, hears your breaths stutter in your throat. Purrs gentle praises into your ear to ease the thick stretch.

His pretty bird was such a good girl, wasn’t she? You can take it, knows you can.

Bottoms out in your pussy, gives you a minute to adjust before you’re slurring pleas against his neck. ‘Oh, Simon, s-so big. Feel so good, oh fuc- please move? Please, Simon?’

So he does, can’t hold back when you sound like that. Give you anything you ask for.

Grinds his hips shallow and slow, makes a steady pace of it. Tangles your legs around his hips, locking them at his back, keeps the two of you pressed together. Broad chest smashed against your smaller one, impossible to move far from your aching cunt. His strokes are languid, gentle. Softer than he’s used to, but he doesn’t intend to fuck the sensation away with hurried and inept thrusts.

He wants to remember how every ridge in your pussy feels, memorize and store each shuddered breath and strained moan you give him. Needs you to feel cherished, the way your warmth has made him feel for months. Wants you to feel each inch of him, molding your walls into his shape until it’s all you ever knew.

You seem to agree, only squeeze your legs tighter around him as if to keep him tucked to your cervix. Though it’s not like he could even imagine pulling away from your searing flesh, plans to keep himself buried inside your pussy for as long as he can.

It’s intimate, almost too tender, but not nearly enough at the same time. As if the way you cling desperately to him, keep him pressed skin to skin doesn’t appease your ache. Like the way his entire shaft finds a home in your pretty cunt isn’t close enough. Decides to intertwine the both of your fingers together, pulls you from his neck so he can rest his forehead against yours.

But your eyes flutter shut, brows furrowing together with each determined stroke. Kiss swollen lips caressing his with each mewl, joins the obscene noises in the room. A mixture of squelches and whined ‘Simon!‘

“What’s t’matter baby?” He coos, wipes the sweat-slicked hair on your temples, “Tell me, huh?”

“Simon, nmmf—oh god. Right there, please right there. Please, don’t stop.” You beg.

He doesn’t.

Fucks you through it, balls sticky with your slick.

“Yeah?” He hums, “Right there, baby? Liked that?”

Your voice cracks over a high-pitched moan, can’t answer with a full sentence when his fat cock plunges deep, rakes against the spongy flesh that has your toes curling and back arching. Watches as you unravel on his length, walls clinging to him after each drag. Mouth slacked when three fingers find your clit. Swipe steady strokes in tandem with his thrusts.

You finished just like that, wrapped around his cock, walls clenching painfully tight, spamming and twitching with each pulse. White froth gathering at the base of his cock.

“That’s it, there we go,” He praises, “My pretty fucking girl.”

Doesn’t even care how he sounds or really, think about the words spilling from his lips.

“So good for me, yeah? She takes me so well,” He continues, talks you through your orgasm, words slurred, “Such a good girl. My sweet girl. Gonna make you all mine.”

You nod frantically babble for him to. Tell him you want nothing more than to be his. And he has every intention to, buries himself to your cervix and paints you as his.

It takes him a moment, bodies still conjoined between your legs even though he went soft long ago. Fingers still intertwined beside your pretty head, basking in your warmth and sweet kisses. Separating is difficult, but the moisture begins to dry tacky on your skin, sticky between your thighs. Becomes uncomfortable, so the two of you take a shower, wash each other clean.

Pride beats his ego when he has to keep an arm around you. Standing under the water, legs numb beneath you. And because you’re too sweet for him, you scratch his scalp while he holds you close. Mollifies under your touch, water drenched kisses shared between quiet giggles.

You return to the bed with him once again. Pulls your bare skin flush against his, tucks your head under his chin, arms banding your hips. Holds you tight through the night, possessive and protective. Doesn’t plan to ever let go. Not when his terribly cold bed melts warm in your presence. Sheets encased in your heat, stinging his fingertips and toes. It’s almost too hot, palms clammy against your pretty skin, but he doesn’t pull away.

Doesn’t care that sweat beads at his back when this is the closest his bed has felt like a bed and not a mattress with coiled springs and worn duvets. The most his house has felt like a home instead of four walls of brick and drywall.

Sleep doesn’t come easy, not when he wants to savor the moment for as long as he can, but your warmth lulls his eyes heavy and tired.

When the morning comes, he thinks it might be a sweet dream— a rare occurrence in his mind. But there you lay, fast asleep in his arms still. He can’t keep his hands to himself when he sees you. Meaty paws trace your figure, pushes the blanket low so he could get a pretty view of your smooth skin.

His touch rouses you, shifting in his arms to turn your backside to him. Mumble a groggy morning to him, muffled against his pillows.

You’re even more malleable than last night, lift your leg so sweetly for him when his hand descends between your thighs because he thinks he might be addicted to you. Whimper quietly into the sheets when he slides home, fucks you lazy and slow. Little more than sex, just wants to relish in your warmth.

Gets to experience one of the lazy Sundays he always watched you take from afar, except now he’s participating. Glass barrier nonexistent, not when you’re in his bed, whining his name against his lips.

Shatters it for him, makes his house a home.

The weekend ends too soon, isn’t ready to leave your cocoon quite yet, but you wake up beside him when Monday morning comes. Ask if him and Riley are going to join you on your run.

They do.

He was sure Riley wouldn’t want anything more.

Leaving each other for work proves difficult, almost stays so he could remain in your contented warmth. He doesn’t, bleeds the taste of your lips in his mouth instead.

And when he does return home, he returns to you and Riley. Greet him with a pretty smile just like you always do, place a plate of fresh food in front of him. Eat dinner together, like you two always used to, Riley snuggled on your couch, but now instead of walking across the street, he stays.

Thank you so much for all the likes/reblogs/comments! I’m so happy you guys enjoyed it as much as I have! 🍒💌❤️

Cross posted on my Ao3 here, as well as all my other fics!

Tag list: @ttznlettt @rainschnael @rockinraccoons @crypticenbug @c1garette-nightmares @keepghostly @l3thal-l0lita @terrifiedanimegirl @migueloharacumslut @tine1603 @whoisteona

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mingi-s-dimples · 3 days ago

Text

A Deal with The Devil - Hongjoong

"You wanted to rebel, didn’t you? “Is this what you call defiance? Letting yourself be fucked like a filthy little whore on your father’s desk?”

~"devil x pastor’s daughter" - ily sweetie ♡

pairing: devil!hongjoong x pastor's daughter fem!reader

genre: 18+, devil x pastor’s daugther, filth

summary: you wanted to make a deal with the devil.. and in exchange, get freedom of your father. but the devil got other plans.. which you utterly are a whore for.

wc: 5.1k

warnings: religious guilt/imagery, devil!hongjoong, rough dom!hongjoong, pastor's daughter, multiple orgasms (a lot), fingering, eating out, deal with the devil, lots of cum, sex against a wall, sex on a desk, marking, choking, neck holding, taunting, teasing, enemies to lovers typa shit, degradation, dirty talk, breath play, denial, oral fixation, orgasm control, orgasm denial, size kink, completely consensual!, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!), for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: hey pooks I hope you'll enjoy this 👉🏻👈🏻 haven't added too many devilish elements cause he's in a human form in my eyes...besides his huge cock ofc and glistening eyes. ily

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

You’ve always been told that the devil comes in disguise, that he cloaks himself in beauty and charm, whispering seductive lies into the ears of the desperate. He’s the reason for your sins, the voice of temptation that haunts your dreams.

But when you finally come face to face with him, there’s no disguise.

Hongjoong is a living embodiment of sin, draped over a throne carved from darkness and desire, his presence dominating the space around him. He sits back, legs spread wide, his black shirt casually unbuttoned just enough to reveal the ink snaking over his collarbone, glistening like promises of debauchery. His silver rings catch the dim light, a promise of danger glimmering in the shadows of the room.

His eyes—deep, endless pools of darkness—glistening red, lock onto yours, sharp and predatory. The very air around him crackles with an intensity that threatens to consume you whole, yet you stand firm, your defiance a flickering flame against the encroaching darkness.

“I came to make a deal,” you state, voice steady, even as your heart pounds a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

His lips curl into a smirk, a flash of amusement cutting through the tension. “Did you, now?”

“I don’t repeat myself.”

He chuckles, a low, throaty sound that resonates deep within you. “Feisty.” He leans forward, his gaze piercing through you like a dagger. “I expected someone like you to come crawling eventually.”

You straighten, forcing your chin up, refusing to be intimidated. “I don’t crawl for anyone.”

His amusement deepens, a dangerous glint igniting in his eyes. “No? Not even for me?”

And before you can respond, he’s there—standing inches away, the heat of him seeping into your skin. His fingers wrap around your jaw, gripping you with a power that sends shivers of both fear and exhilaration down your spine.

“You don’t crawl,” he echoes, his voice a velvet rasp that wraps around your throat, holding you captive. “Not yet.”

You refuse to break eye contact, though your breath hitches as he leans in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close. “But you will.”

His thumb strokes over your bottom lip, dragging it down slightly, teasing, as if testing your resolve. “Do you know what you’re asking for?”

You swallow hard, defiance bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m asking for everything.”

He smirks, the corners of his mouth curling like he’s just been handed a delicious secret. “You think you can handle it?”

“Maybe I want to get burned.”

The intensity in his eyes shifts, darkening with something primal. “Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, “you have no idea what kind of fire you’re playing with.”

His grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin, pulling you closer. “I’ll give you everything,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck. “Every wicked thing you’ve ever dreamed of. Every filthy pleasure that’s crossed your mind.”

His lips ghost over your skin, igniting flames along your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “But you need to understand something.” His voice drops to a sultry growl, each word a dark promise. “When you’re mine, you surrender completely.”

You shiver at the thrill of his words, feeling the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. “You think you can break me?” you challenge, your voice steady, even as your body responds to him with an eagerness you can’t ignore.

“Oh, darling,” he chuckles, the sound low and dangerous, sending heat pooling in your belly. “I don’t need to break you.”

His hands slide down your arms, tracing every curve, exploring the terrain of your body as if memorizing every inch. “I just need to make you beg.”

His grip on your waist becomes possessive, fingers sinking into your flesh, and you gasp, the sound escaping your lips unbidden. “You think you can make me beg?”

“Don’t test me.” His voice drops to a husky whisper, his lips barely brushing against yours, the tantalizing promise of what’s to come lingering in the air between you. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

His lips crash against yours, hungry and fierce, a collision of heat and urgency. It’s raw, consuming, and the moment his mouth claims yours, you feel yourself melting against him, desire surging through your veins like fire.

You respond with a hunger of your own, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you can somehow bridge the gap between the fiery need coursing through you and the cool darkness that surrounds him. He groans into your mouth, a deep, primal sound that reverberates through your body, igniting every nerve ending until all you can think about is him.

He pulls away, a cruel smile dancing on his lips, breathless and wild. “You see? Your body is already begging.”

“Fuck you,” you retort, but the challenge falls flat when you feel the heat pooling in your core, an insatiable hunger that demands to be fed.

“Oh, you will,” he says, voice dripping with lust and malice, “but not before I have my fun.”

He shoves you back against the wall, pinning you there with his body, the weight of him a delicious pressure that sends shivers coursing through you. His lips graze over your throat, teasingly, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he whispers dark promises against your skin.

“Every wicked thought you’ve ever had, every sinful desire lurking in the corners of your mind?” His breath is hot against your ear, and you can’t suppress the moan that escapes your lips. “I’ll make them all come true.”

His hands explore your body, rough and demanding, tracing the curves that drive him wild. You arch into his touch, desperate for more, every instinct urging you to surrender completely to the devil before you.

“You want me,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips, forcing you to feel every bit of his hunger. “You want everything I have to offer. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

“I want more,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire, your heart racing as you lean into him. “Show me what you can do.”

His eyes flash with satisfaction, and in that moment, you know you’ve crossed a line you can never return from. You’re tangled in the web of his dark allure, willing to embrace whatever sin he offers.

“Then let’s see how far you’re willing to fall,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he pulls you deeper into the abyss.

And you realize, with chilling clarity, that you’re ready to surrender everything.

Hongjoong's lips barely leave your skin, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your neck, but even as his fingers work their magic, you refuse to be reduced to a quivering mess beneath him. Every touch ignites a fire deep within you, but you cling to your defiance like a lifeline.

“You think you can break me?” you challenge breathlessly, even as your body arches into his every touch, desperate for more.

He chuckles darkly against your skin, the sound reverberating through you like a spell. “Oh, darling, I don’t need to break you.” He grips your jaw with one hand, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, the intensity of his stare making you shiver. His fingers slide under your skirt, teasingly slow as he drags them along your thighs, brushing the fabric of your panties. The heat pooling in your belly is undeniable, but you bite back a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose control.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, though the heat in your voice betrays you, and he laughs, the sound low and teasing.

“Oh, I plan to,” he murmurs, a wicked glint in his eyes.

Before you can protest, he slips a finger beneath the fabric, teasing you with a slow, deliberate touch, his eyes locked onto yours as he watches you squirm. You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, the humiliation and desire clashing within you.

“You’re just a spoiled little pastor’s daughter,” he taunts, the edge of his voice dripping with condescension. “What do you know of real pleasure?”

“I know enough,” you snap, forcing your voice steady even as he pushes a second finger inside you, stretching you, making you gasp. “I know you’re nothing but a—”

His grip tightens, fingers wrapping around your throat, cutting off your words as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “What was that? You were saying?”

The pressure of his grip sends a rush of heat coursing through you, a thrill mixed with fear and desire. You look into his eyes, defiance still burning, and manage a breathy, “You think you can intimidate me?”

His lips curl into a smirk, but there’s no amusement in his gaze—only hunger. “Oh, I don’t need to intimidate you. You’re already so captivated…”

With a swift motion, he pulls his hand away, leaving you gasping, aching for his touch. The sudden absence sends a wave of frustration crashing over you. “What the hell?”

He leans back, watching you with amusement, as if savoring the moment. “Did you think it would be that easy?”

You glare at him, fury and desire battling for dominance within you. “I didn’t come here to play games, Hongjoong.”

“Yet here we are.” His fingers trail over your bare skin, igniting every nerve ending as he watches you squirm under his gaze. “You came to make a deal… and you think you can just waltz in here and demand what you want?”

“I came to take control,” you retort, the fire in your belly urging you to push back even harder. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, and you can feel the heat radiating off him. “You should be.”

In an instant, he closes the distance, his grip tightening around your throat once more, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, teasing. “Is this what you wanted? To feel me choke you until you can’t breathe?”

A thrill races through you, and against your better judgment, you reply, “Yes.”

His eyes darken, and he leans in closer, his mouth ghosting over your lips. “You think you’re so tough, but I see right through you. You want me to own you.”

“I w-won’t let you,” you spit back, but the words come out as more of a plea than a declaration.

“Then let’s see how far you can go before you break,” he challenges, his lips curling into a predatory grin. “Because I have every intention of claiming you.”

With that, he crashes his mouth against yours, a fierce, possessive kiss that leaves you breathless. You respond instinctively, your body craving the heat and intensity of him. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, and you can feel the way he pulls you in, demanding your submission even as you fight against it.

His fingers slide back down your body, exploring, teasing, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth. “You think I’m just going to give in?”

He pulls back slightly, eyes glinting with amusement. “You already are. You just don’t know it yet.”

He pushes you back against the wall even more, pinning you with his body, the weight of him pressing you into the hard surface. His hand slides beneath your skirt again, and you feel the cool air against your skin as he tears away your remaining barriers. “Let’s take this to the next level, shall we?”

“Stop it!” you hiss, but the fire in your voice is a thin veil over your desperation. You wanted him so fucking bad.

“Make me,” he challenges, and with that, he plunges two fingers deep inside you, and you can’t help but gasp, your body responding against your will.

“Fuck!” you curse, and he chuckles, the sound low and triumphant.

He drives his fingers deeper, and you feel yourself spiraling, pleasure washing over you in waves. Each thrust, each curl of his fingers ignites a fire within you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Admit it,” he breathes against your ear, his voice a sultry whisper that makes your heart race. “You love this. You love being my little plaything.”

“No,” you manage to say, even as your body betrays you, begging for more. “I hate you!”

“Lies…,” he growls, his fingers moving faster, rougher, and the pressure builds, your body teetering on the brink. “You’re mine, whether you want to admit it or not.”

He captures your lips again, his kiss fierce and demanding, and as he deepens his fingers, you feel the world around you dissolve. You’re lost in him, in the heat and the darkness, and with every thrust of his fingers, every possessive grip, you know you’re falling deeper into his embrace.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you whisper between kisses, but the defiance in your voice is faltering, the fire in your belly igniting as you feel the climax build.

“You should be,” he murmurs, voice low and tantalizing. “Because I’m going to make you beg for more.”

And with that, he pushes you over the edge, your world exploding in a haze of pleasure and surrender, and as you cry out his name, you know you’ve finally succumbed to the devil who has claimed you body and soul.

The air is thick with tension as Hongjoong pulls you closer, his eyes dark and filled with an insatiable hunger. The moment you catch your breath, he sweeps you off your feet and pushes you around, pressing your back against the wall. Your heart races with a mix of anticipation and defiance, the thrill of the forbidden sending a shiver down your spine.

“Still think you can control this?” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear.

“Maybe,” you reply, fighting to keep your voice steady despite the urgency pulsing through you.

Without warning, he lifts one of your legs and drapes it over his shoulder, positioning you exactly how he wants you. The sudden shift catches you off guard, and a rush of heat floods your cheeks as you look down at him, your breath hitching.

“You don’t get to decide that anymore,” he growls, his voice low and sultry. “You’re mine now.”

Before you can respond, he dives in, his mouth finding you with a hunger that makes your head spin. He latches onto you without warning, and a gasp escapes your lips as his tongue glides over your clit. Pleasure bursts through you like wildfire, and you instinctively grip his hair, pulling him closer as he devours you.

“Hongjoong!” you cry out, your body arching against him, desperate for more.

He chuckles against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you.”

He works you over with precision, his tongue dancing and teasing, swirling and flicking in a way that has your knees threatening to buckle. Your mind races, caught in the chaos of pleasure and defiance. “You think this is going to make me submit?” you challenge breathlessly, even as your body betrays you, clenching around nothing as he pushes you higher.

“Just admit you love it,” he replies, his voice muffled as he continues his relentless assault. “Admit you crave it.”

You shake your head, refusing to give him the satisfaction, even as the heat builds inside you, every nerve ending alive and begging for release. “I won’t give in that easily!”

“Is that so?” He pauses for a brief moment, pulling back just enough to look up at you, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Hm, then I guess I’ll have to work harder.”

With that, he resumes, his mouth finding you with a fervor that makes your heart race. He pushes your leg higher, deepening his access, and you can feel the pressure building within you, the coil tightening as he drinks you in. The raw intensity of it all is overwhelming, and you can’t help but moan, the sounds escaping you unbidden.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he growls, the words dripping with satisfaction as he plunges his tongue deeper, teasing and swirling, every flick sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you.

“Damn it, Hongjoong!” you whimper, fighting against the overwhelming sensations, but he just laughs, the sound dark and full of promise.

“Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me,” he urges, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a feral need that sends a thrill through you.

“Never,” you retort defiantly, but the fire in your belly is reaching its peak, and your resolve begins to waver.

He chuckles again, the sound low and sultry, and the wicked gleam in his eyes only fuels your frustration.

He doubles his efforts, tongue swirling and teasing, fingers digging into your thighs as he holds you steady. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, a pressure building that threatens to overwhelm you.

“Just give in,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin, sending shivers racing through you. “Let go of your pride. You’ll find that this is where you truly belong.”

“Shut up,” you gasp, unable to hide the pleasure leaking into your voice as he pushes you closer to the edge. “You think you can just—”

But he cuts you off, plunging two fingers inside you alongside his mouth, his relentless rhythm pushing you past the point of no return. Your body responds instinctively, every muscle tightening as pleasure overwhelms you, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips.

“God, Hongjoong!” you cry, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you feel yourself teetering on the brink.

“Tell me you want me to make you come,” he demands, his eyes locked on yours, dark and demanding.

“Never!” you scream, defiance fighting against the overwhelming pleasure crashing over you.

But he just smirks, the fire in his eyes igniting further as he doubles down on his efforts. “Then I’ll just have to make you.”

He thrusts his fingers deeper, his devilish claws feeling incredibly pleasant, curling them just right, and the world around you fades away. The pressure builds, every nerve ending alight with need as you approach that sweet release.

“Fuck!” you gasp, the word tumbling from your lips as your body quakes beneath him, and in that moment, all your defiance crumbles.

“Admit it,” he breathes, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watches you unravel. “You want this. You want me.”

“Fine!” you shout, the words spilling out before you can think. “I want it! I want you!”

With that, you feel the world explode, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave as you cry out his name, surrendering completely to the devil who has ensnared your heart.

As the waves of pleasure recede, Hongjoong wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a wicked smirk dancing on his lips. The look in his eyes is predatory, dark, and intoxicating. He grips your waist, lifting you off the ground, and suddenly, you’re pinned against the wall. Your heart races as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist.

“Think you can control me?” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, sending shivers down your spine.

Without waiting for a response, he thrusts into you hard, filling you completely. His cock was huge… barely fitting in. The sensation takes your breath away, and you gasp, your body instinctively arching towards him as he holds you firmly against the wall. Each thrust is hard and deliberate, pushing you to the edge, igniting a fire within you that you can’t deny.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air as he drives deeper. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear, whispering taunts that send thrill after thrill coursing through you. The pressure builds, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

You can feel the tension coiling tighter with every thrust, and despite your attempts to maintain your defiance, you find yourself gasping for breath. The heat pooling in your belly is unbearable. “I hate you,” you manage to say, but even you can hear the yearning in your voice.

He only chuckles, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. He lifts you higher against the wall, positioning you to his liking, and thrusts harder, each movement precise and unrelenting. The overwhelming pleasure threatens to consume you, but he holds you in place, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

As he pushes you to the brink, he grips your throat, tightening just enough to make your head spin. The world tilts on its axis, and you feel your body betraying you, craving his touch more than anything. He bites down on your shoulder, leaving a mark that burns and seals your fate as his.

The pressure inside you builds and builds, and your mind spins as you teeter on the edge of release. With each thrust, you can feel yourself breaking apart, the heat overwhelming. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you cling to him, desperate for stability.

“Just let go,” he growls, the primal hunger in his voice sending shivers down your spine. The tension reaches a peak, and in one powerful thrust, you feel the world explode around you. Pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping his name, surrendering completely to the devil who has ensnared your heart.

He rides you through your climax, thrusting relentlessly as your body trembles around him. The waves of ecstasy wash over you, drowning out everything else. With each movement, he holds you tightly, claiming you as his, marking you for all to see.

You’ve entered a dangerous game, and deep down, you know you’re addicted to the thrill, the heat, and the devil himself.

As you slowly come back to reality, breathless and dizzy from pleasure, Hongjoong's smirk only deepens. He grips your waist, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “Is this how you rebel against your father?” he growls, moving you into the neatly tidied desk of your father's, only to throw everything in sight on the floor, thrusting deeper into you. “By making a deal with the devil and fucking hard on his cock?”

You gasp at his words, feeling the heat wash over you again as he drives into you relentlessly. He tightens his grip around your throat, choking you just enough to send a thrill through your body. “Answer me,” he demands, his voice low and commanding.

“Y-yes…!” you gasp, his words sending a thrill through you.

The room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the rhythmic thud of his body against yours as he thrusts into you relentlessly. The desk creaks beneath the two of you, the chaotic mess of scattered papers and pens a testament to the fervor of the moment. Hongjoong leans closer, his breath hot against your ear as he takes you completely.

“This is what you get for striking a deal with the devil himself,” he growls, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “You thought you could handle it, didn’t you? But look at you now, utterly at my mercy.”

His words send another thrill through you, the way he degrades you only fueling your desire. You meet his gaze, defiance still flickering in your eyes, but it’s drowned out by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

“You wanted to rebel, didn’t you?” he continues, his thrusts unyielding. “Is this what you call defiance? Letting yourself be fucked like a filthy little whore on your father’s desk?”

You try to protest, but the words get caught in your throat, your body betraying you as you arch against him, craving more. His grip tightens on your hips, holding you in place as he drives into you harder, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy crashing over you.

“Admit it,” he demands, his voice rough and commanding. “You love being treated like this. You love the danger, the thrill of being taken by someone like me.”

You moan softly, the pleasure overwhelming, and despite your best efforts to stay defiant, the truth hangs heavy on your lips. “I… Ah, fuck-,” you manage to choke out, but even you can hear the weakness in your voice, the way your body responds to him with every thrust.

He chuckles darkly, the sound filled with amusement. “Mhm… you’re just a good little, innocent pastor’s daughter who wants to be a bad girl,” he taunts, thrusting even harder. “And now you’re mine. You’ll learn to embrace it.”

His words cut deep, igniting a fire within you that’s both thrilling and terrifying. You know you should feel shame, but all you feel is desire, the way he dominates you feeding into something primal and raw.

With a final powerful thrust, he pushes you over the edge once more, and you cry out, the intensity of your release consuming you. Hongjoong doesn’t relent, continuing to thrust as you ride the waves of pleasure, your body quaking beneath him.

“See?” he breathes, watching you intently, a smirk playing on his lips. “This is what happens when you give in to temptation. You become a slave to your own desires.”

As you come down from your high, he holds you close, filling you completely, your bodies entwined in a tangled mess of passion and chaos. In that moment, you realize you’ve crossed a line you can never return from. The thrill of being his—the devil’s possession—consumes you, and deep down, a part of you knows you’ll never want to escape.

“You’ll crave this again,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your ear. “You’ll come back for more, just like the good little sinner you are.”

And with that, he begins to thrust again, igniting the fire within you once more, proving that once you make a deal with the devil, there’s no turning back.

With each powerful thrust, Hongjoong ignites a fire deep within you, your body responding eagerly as he drives you closer to the edge again. The pleasure builds quickly, and before you can catch your breath, he shifts his angle, hitting that perfect spot that sends shockwaves through your entire body.

“Look at you,” he growls, his voice low and teasing as he watches your reaction. “So filthy, so eager for my cock. You want to come again, don’t you? You want to let go and give in completely.”

You can barely manage a response, your breath coming in quick gasps as the pressure within you swells to an unbearable level. “Yes,” you whimper, the desperation in your voice only fueling his dominance.

“Good girl,” he praises, thrusting harder, his movements relentless as he pushes you further. “Let it out. Show me how much you want it.”

In that moment, the tension inside you snaps, but it’s not just an orgasm; it’s something more powerful. The wave of pleasure crashes over you as you squirt, soaking him and the desk beneath you. Your body trembles uncontrollably, caught in the throes of ecstasy, as you experience a high unlike anything you've ever felt.

“Look at you,” he breathes, watching the scene unfold with dark satisfaction. “Squirting all over me. You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” His words drip with both praise and degradation, sending you spiraling even further into the depths of pleasure.

You can barely comprehend the intensity of the moment, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you. The sound of your release fills the room, and all you can do is cling to him, your body shaking as he continues to thrust, riding out the waves of your pleasure.

“Such a good little sinner,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of hunger and satisfaction. “You’re completely mine now, and you love every second of it.”

As your body trembles beneath him, he doesn’t let up, continuing to drive into you with fervor, ensuring that you feel every last bit of pleasure. The connection between you is electric, and in that moment, you know there’s no turning back from the thrill of what you’ve become—a willing prisoner to the devil’s desires.

As the waves of pleasure finally recede, Hongjoong pulls back, his breath heavy and uneven. He gazes down at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in the sight of your flushed face, the evidence of your shared passion still glistening on your skin. You can feel the heat radiating between you, a tangible reminder of the intensity that just unfolded.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, fingers brushing lightly over your still trembling body. “All wrecked and vulnerable. You really enjoyed that, didn’t you?” His tone is both playful and predatory, making it clear that he relishes in your surrender.

You try to catch your breath, your heart racing, but his presence looms large, overwhelming. “I... hate you,” you manage to say, though the words come out breathless and weak, the defiance in your voice barely a whisper.

Hongjoong chuckles, clearly enjoying your attempt to maintain some semblance of bravado. “Oh, sweetheart, we both know that’s a lie,” he replies, his fingers dancing across your skin, teasing and taunting. “You love this just as much as I do. You crave it.”

As he pulls you closer, you can feel the warmth of his body against yours, a stark contrast to the coolness of the desk beneath you. His grip is firm but gentle as he runs his hands down your sides, reminding you of the way he claimed you just moments ago.

“Let’s not pretend,” he says, his voice a mix of roughness and gentleness. “You’re not just some innocent girl anymore. You’ve crossed a line, and I can’t help but enjoy the way you’re falling apart for me.”

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, the gesture surprisingly tender after the intensity of your earlier encounter. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you,” he adds, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You’re mine now, and I’ll make sure you remember that.”

As he pulls back slightly, his eyes lock onto yours, a wicked gleam dancing in their depths. “You’ll want more, won’t you? More of this, more of me,” he says, a playful challenge lacing his words.

You feel the heat rising in your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and undeniable desire. “Maybe,” you reply, trying to keep your tone defiant, but the tremor in your voice gives you away.

“Good,” he replies, his smirk widening as he leans in closer, the distance between you shrinking once more. “Because I have plans for you. This is just the beginning.”

He presses another kiss to your lips, rough and teasing, igniting the fire within you all over again. It’s a reminder that even after the chaos, he’s still the devil you’ve recklessly given yourself to—a thrilling danger that you can’t resist.

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