#though his body is completely Mechanical
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rxg1nald · 11 months ago
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nooo dont hide ur face you’re so pretty
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skeletoninthemelonland · 2 years ago
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Sorry but spring crawling toward us???
Respectfully... smash
•//_//•
mf is tryna kill you 💀
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k9wa · 8 months ago
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⟁ PLUMMET. ft BOOTHILL.
⠀ — “swoopin’ in to save me again, sugar plum?”
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⚠︎ mechanic!reader (but it isn’t really relevant), i saw boothill trailer and ran to google docs, gn reader (ma’am used once at the end) wc 1k.
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“your bounty has been completed!”
boothill could feel the explosion of the ship, even from the distance he was and against the strong winds from his high speed fall. a rush of heat slapped him in the face, leaving a thorough hunger in his gut temporarily quelled.
“how would you like to land?”
the cyborg kept his hat fastened to his head with his palm against the top, eyes briefly glancing down to the city below he was slowly getting closer to plumetting down into.
“…good question.”
the ground was steadily approaching, even if it was gonna take him a solid second or two to actually reach it. he’d never tested if his body could withstand smacking against concrete from— give or take— six thousand feet in the air, but he had a small hunch today wasn’t the day to try his luck. becoming a blue splat on the pavement wasn’t exactly in the cards of his itinerary.
boothill’s eyes looked left, looked right, fingers twirling the rope on his belt. he doubted it’d do much to really help, but it was a start nonetheless. 
he eventually came up with an idea— a totally foolproof idea. loop his rope around one of the street lights when he got close enough, avoid hitting the ground, swing himself back up into the air, and land safe and sound on…wherever the hell he managed to land. hopefully on his feet. 
super simple, super easy. lightwork.
and so he eyed the ground, wrapping one end of his rope taught around his right palm, his left getting the momentum of the other end ready in a smooth swinging motion.
“c’mon now boothill,” he muttered to himself, voice thoroughly drowned out by the wind. “ain’t nothin’ but a lil’ repositionin’.”
he kept falling, getting closer, 
closer…
closer…
almost there…
boothill readied his hand to swing, but the motion quickly became unnecessary when something— or rather, someone— grabbed his wrist, and he was pulled upward with a shocked ‘muddle—!’ before he could test the success rate of his plan.
the cowboy snapped his head up, hat nearly tipping off his head. he was hung like a ragdoll from his arm, feet dangling down below him as his eyes met his apparent saviours—
of course.
boothill’s sharp teeth slowly shone in a wide grin, loud and scruffy laugh echoing into the still rather open air around him. because who else would it have been besides you, your brows slightly furrowed at him from the safety of your little hoverboard he remembered you tinkering with just a couple days ago.
“well fudge me!” he’d slap his knee if the position allowed. “look who it is— ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!” 
boothill reached up for your other hand, you wordlessly met him halfway reaching down, leaving both of your fingers locking around the others wrist.
“swoopin’ in to save me again, sugar plum?”
you shake your head with a sigh, hoverboard beginning a steady descent down. it was a little harder to balance with boothill weighing it down, but nothing you couldn’t handle.
“you’re lucky,” you half scoff. “i’ve got a sixth sense for you being an idiot.”
boothill’s hearty laugh echoed out again, the wind whipping around you leaving his hair tousled and a little tangled. 
“ain’t that the fudgin’ truth,” he jostled your hand a little. he doubted he could really get adrenaline rushes anymore, but this was pretty damn close. “reckon i’d be flatter than a darn hotcake if it weren’t for yer timely intervention!” 
his feet touching the ground were a welcome stabilisation, though the cyborg made no move to release your hand— instead he actually broke into a quick sprint, barely giving you the time to pick up your board as he tugged you along.
“you got somewhere to be or somethin’?”
you asked, stumbling a bit before you got your footing to keep up. you were just so cute when you pretended to be all sore with him.
“you bet i do— somewhere that ain’t swarmin’ with those sorry IPC shirtbags!”
it was a fair point— a giant explosion in the sky of one of their own ships made quite the beacon for attention.
running with him wasn’t so bad, at least. his grip around your wrist was surprisingly gentle, and the smell of him filled your nose in the wind as you trailed behind. some citrus, maybe cedar, and an unmistakable lingering of those phosphorus tracer bullets he chewed on so often. 
you two dipped around a corner, backed against an old brick wall as some heavy footsteps kept running the other way. 
“say, remind me to get’cha a drink later,” boothill gave a small tug to your wrist again, bringing you just a little closer. “as a thanks for all them times y’saved my sorry behind.”
boothill smiled when you chuckled rather than shooing his hand away or giving a smart response.
“you’re gonna have quite the tab going.” you carefully repositioned your hand with his, your fingers lacing together rather than him just holding your wrist. boothill’s eyes could have turned into cartoonish hearts.
“tell ya what,” his hand gave yours a squeeze. “i know a place. it ain’t too far from here, won’t have to worry about no one botherin’ us,” it was quite endearing, the way his voice still held that gentle rasp even as it softened. “i start workin’ off that tab, get a night with you, and heck we’re both winnin’ ain’t we?” 
you hummed at that. it didn’t sound so bad.
“alright,” you nodded. “but let’s focus on you not having to gun down another dozen IPC workers first.”
it was your turn to pull him along with a swift tug of his wrist, resuming your sprint just in time to avoid some more heavy footsteps heading in your direction.
“you weren’t pullin’ my leg about that sixth sense, were ya sweetheart?” boothill fell into a natural step behind you.
“consider this added to your tab.”
“yes ma’am!”
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⠀ MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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medusaesque · 6 months ago
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Kim's itchy trigger finger
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So, Kim reaches for his gun often. Very often. sometimes for the most ridiculous reasons- opening the bear fridge, the experiment in the church, a note from Klaasje.
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This one is just from being anxious going into the communist reading group. Kim doesn't want to be the kind of cop who draws his gun constantly, who shoots instinctively, but he is, or at the very least it's very difficult for him to stop himself from becoming one.
Perhaps the most horrifying example is with The Pigs-
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Even if he KNOWS the gun isn't loaded, even if he knows it's safe, the instinctual muscle twitch could have ended in an unnecessary death. Kim is very well aware of that fact, and it's horrifying to him. @shufflerock-jam has this really good post about it, where they wonder how many of Kim's kills were unnecessary. "Something about a pair of traumatized cops, one fighting against shooting himself and one fighting against shooting everyone else".
At the end of The Pigs exchange, if Harry says she tried to kill him, Kim begins to interject, but stops himself and agree this situation could've been very bad. Then Empathy chimes in- 'He's trying not to think about how bad it could have been had the gun been loaded.' Which is the heart of the issue, right? that leads us to Eyes-
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This is such a fascinating background to give Kim as a character- not just losing his partner, which gives him the trauma and survivor's guilt that lead to this unhealthy relationship with his gun and frankly with death in general, but losing his Eyes, and having that not interfere with his shooting. Kim doesn't need to see well to hit, he doesn't need to think. It's all in his hands, a reflex. A reflex that nearly took an innocent life. That might have taken one before.
His awareness of looming danger, to him and to his partner, is fueling his version of Hand/Eye Coordination to have him constantly on edge, his whole body is like a loaded spring, always prepared to make sure it doesn't happen again. Then it does-
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In his nightmare scenario, leaning over his partner's bleeding body, Kim only needs one word to shoot without a second's hesitation. He's never not ready to take that shot. He doesn't need his Eyes.
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Harry is distraught to discover he's killed before- his body remembers it. He wants a drink to soften the feeling. Kim however is impressed with how little he's killed- especially coming from the bloody murder unit. He wants to be 'one of the good ones' (Kim's adamant belief in the possibility of a Good Cop is a whole other can of worms) the kind of cop he would think highly of. Kim is disgusted by cops who kill like it's a game. Espirit gives us a vision of a cop exactly like that, who kills so often it doesn't feel like anything anymore. In a way that is completely mechanical- no thought, no feelings, just a thing your body does. Not unlike the way Kim shoots- like a spring unloaded. Kim has 6 confirmed kills before the tribunal, double the amount Harry has. He doesn't react the same way though-
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It's doesn't bother Kim that he has killed, even if he declines to elaborate on it, and he seems to frown upon (or worry about) Harry's destructive coping mechanism. If they're unable to save Ruby, he says "Control your emotions. We did our job. This won't be the worst thing that happens on this case… believe me. You can't let this break you." When you wake up after the tribunal, he doesn't dwell on the lost lives on either side. Harry's skills call him a killer, a bloodstained killer, but when he tells Kim he also killed he simply nods. He's smoking though. I'm not saying that Kim is heartless or careless, he's rattled by nearly blowing The Pigs' head off, very sorry for the lives lost during the case, and clearly hunted by death, having been surrounded by it for his entire life. But I do think death is a part of the job for him- not just possible civilian causalities, but his own potential death. He speaks plainly about how he might die in the lie of duty, and he narrowly avoided it more than once, with others dying in his place..
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He walked into the line of fire with harry expecting for of them to die, and his quick fingers on the trigger made it so they lived another day. Even if more ghost joined the list that hunts him in his sleep, he is alive. He goes on. He can't afford to fix this habit, as much as he wants to.
So it's so horrible and so touching that when Dros asks "What have you done?" Kim says-
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It's a tragedy, really. A wartime orphan who wanted to be a revolutionary pilot and played with Franconigerian knights, who grew up to be a cop, a job that slowly shapes his body into a killing machine. And when you ask what he does, what you both do, he says keep people alive.
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wcters · 3 months ago
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𝗦𝗣𝗜𝗡 𝗢𝗨𝗧
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pairing: lando norris x fem!driver!reader
word count: 1.2k+
summary: your boyfriend is there as you crash out in a race
warnings: pda, some swearing, injury mentions, protective lando, i guessed on some stuff | i do not know how certain things work in f1 so if i messed that up i am sorry 😚😔
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Your pre-race playlist filled your ears as you leaned the side of your body against the wall of the track barrier. Even though you’d done this so many times before, it doesn’t lessen the nerves in your body. It wasn’t even your first time on this track, yet it had you picking the skin off you fingers as you zoned out.
You were pulled out as someone came up behind you and wrapped their arms around your waist, grabbing your hands and holding them in theirs. You knew who it was right when you saw their hands. You looked behind you to see your boyfriend. You freed your hand from one of Lando’s and took out an earbud. “Stop picking.” Is the first thing you heard out of him.
“Sorry,” you replied as you took the hand still holding his and brining it up to your mouth and kissed his knuckles, “just nervous.” He smiled softly at you and turned you around to pull you into his chest. “I know, but you’re going to do great.” “So I guess you see the future now, yeah?” You joked. He shrugged his shoulders, “one of my many talents.” “Sure.”
Lando had come to see you race because it was the one race that didn’t take place at the same time as his did. The Bahrain Grand Prix had just taken place about three days before. He had taken a day to himself before he came and joined you in Jeddah. It was challenging with both of your schedules but you made it work, you always did. You both knew the risks and the troubles of two F1 drivers dating, and you both were prepared.
He poked your cheek. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” He asked you. “Yeah. Just have a feeling something will go wrong today.” You said lowly as you looked at the cars on the track. “You’ll be fine, y/n. You’ve had this before and nothing happened.” You nodded into his chest as you breathed in and out. Right as you pulled away your race engineer came up to you and told you it was time. Lando kissed you and wished you good luck as you handed him your phone and earbuds and put your mask and helmet on.
Time passed quickly ━━ probably because of the adrenaline ━━ and before you knew it you were in your car watching the lights. Your hands felt sweaty under your gloves as you didn’t dare to blink. You didn’t want to miss it. As the lights went out, your car came to life and you sped ahead. That feeling of something going wrong was still there but you tried to shake it off and focus on the race.
Lando was in the garage with your engineer and mechanics, eyes peeled on the screen. He noticed how shaken up you were and he was worried. Like he said to you, you’d felt this before but this time he could tell something about it was different. His hands were shaking as he kept his eyes on you and talked to your engineer to try to calm himself down.
Your voice interrupted his senses as he watched you enter your 24th lap. “Somethings up with the tires, I’m getting no grip.” His eyes flicked to the man beside him. “Noted. See if you can hold on a little longer.” Your engineer’s voice filled your ears. “Got it.” Lando was left alone after that as your engineer got up to talk to the mechanics.
When the big screen showed your car, Lando got worried. He saw how little traction your tires had and how you were slipping on your turns. He could hear the commentators voice as well commenting on that as you finish the 27th turn and get ready to start your 25th lap.
As he watched you speed up the track, he didn’t even notice until after it happened. As you tried to turn on the first turn, you tires skidded across the track and you couldn’t complete the second turn, causing your car to crash into the barrier. It didn’t look too bad, but all Lando could hear was silence and all he could think about is if you were okay.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” Your engineers voice cut into the silence of the radio. He got even more worried when you didn’t answer. “Y/n? Baby?” Lando asked into the headset. More silence. He turned around to see if anyone knew what was happening until he finally heard your voice.
“Doing great.” You grunted. “Nothings broken ━━ I don’t think ━━ but my side does hurt. I think I might’ve bruised it when I hit the barrier.” Lando sighed it relief. He was right, it wasn’t too bad. Nothing was broken and you thought it was just a bruise.
“The safety car’s been deployed and it heading your way. Don’t go running anywhere.” You engineer instructed you. “Not going anywhere,” you joked with a light laugh before a hiss came out. With only some trouble you eventually made it out of the car and sat against the barrier to wait for the safety car. You could tell that Lando was worried by the sound of his voice . . . and because you know him. You and him were on the same wavelength, if you could describe it in any way. You felt things the same, and because of that you knew how the other was feeling. You felt the same when he crashed in the Las Vegas GP. It was almost the same too, you spinning out and hitting the barrier. It was entirely coincidental.
You sighed in relief when you saw the safety car ━━ you were ready to get out of there. Your side hurt like a bitch, way more than it did before, and your legs were starting to get tingly. The adrenaline must be wearing out. Lando never turned his gaze away from the screen as they put you in the safety car. He knew you were in good hands, but it ultimately didn’t matter to him. Anything could go wrong.
Lando was right beside you when you got out of the safety car and taken to the doctors on site before you were taken to the hospital. As you were in getting checked out the the doctors, Lando was rambling. “They should’ve taken you off the tires when you told them. They should’ve taken it more seriously. If they had then ━━“ You interrupted him by putting your hand over the one that was holding yours. “It’s fine. If I had felt more nervous I would’ve boxed anyway. Plus, Will would’ve done the same and you would be acting like me. It’s not their fault.”
He sighed, and you knew he knew that you were right. “I know, I just worry.” You kissed his hand, “I know you do. And I do too when the same things happen to you. But I’m fine. They’ll take me to the hospital where they’ll double check I have no injuries. If it makes you feel better I’ll even let you check.” You joked. He laughed and shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind that.”
The doctors eventually told you that you were good to go to the hospital. Nothing looked too bad, but it was standard procedure. You sat up with a groan and Lando immediately made a face. You shot him a look. “C’mon, I’m fine.” He didn’t agree. You rolled your eyes. “Let’s go, you’re coming with me to the ambulance. Maybe they’ll let you turn on the sirens.”
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fizz-pop-thwip · 1 month ago
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I struggle thinking about non consensual human experimentation as a whole, but what happened to Bucky really it does just make me sick.
To start, think of how his stomach dropped when he fell from the train, the fucking fear knowing you're dead. You have 2 seconds and then your dead, this is it.
Then you wake up to 1) being alive, horrifically unaware of the 70 years of hell ahead of you and 2) your arm being not only surgically removed but replaced with a metal arm, a foreign body, a parasite. You fight because what else are you ment to do? But you fall unconscious again.
You wake up to days and days of torment and torture and slowly loose hope that it will ever end, that you'll ever be saved. He didn't know that Steve was dead, how long did he yearn for Steve to find him? How mad did he get? Did he punch the wall, did he scream? Did they have to sedate him because of just how psychotic that made him? How fucking manic he would go?
How long till he lost all feeling, all emotion and hope?
When they started putting him in the chair, did he scream and cry? Did he beg for anything else? Any thing, anything, fucking anything. Did he beg for death? Did he feel himself slowly lose all of his memory, did he sob when he first couldn't picture Steve's face, or when he could remember the most important person in the world, but not a name or a background or a face, not a crumb.
The first time he's put in cryo freeze, does he remember his reflection? Seconds before he fell unconscious, never knowing how long it would be before he woke up again. Did he wake up, begging to just be put back in, the closest fate to death he could ever achieve? The closest thing to mercy? Does he catch himself falling asleep at night and wake up in tears, not even sure if it's been 20 minutes of 20 years.
Did his crys for help fall on the shiney leather shoes of scientists who showed no emotion, did he question if he was even human to begin with? Surely a human would be treated with even a fraction of care. No one treated like this was born from a mother, no one treated like this was ever looked at with maternal love.
He stopped feeling like a person, he didn't even remember he was a person. When things seeped though it just hurt, they hurt him, it made it worse. So he stopped it, he wouldn't let himself. It was impossible to live. He had no coping mechanisms, no outlet, he would show any signs of struggle and be hurt for showing humanity. He had to be what they wanted.
Even after he was broken in, no crying anymore. No begging for mercy. Did he spend his nights awake, just TRYING to remember what he forgot, FEELING the missing spots in his mind? Did he hold that metal arm close because he can't even remember how he got it anymore, all he knows is it makes his shoulders ache.
He was completely and utterly trapped, the more he suppressed, even the minor shards he remembered, the more mania he would experience.
Even once he's free, how do you come back from that, even if it was just a mental thing, the physical, real DAMAGE to his brain was enough to make him never heal again. Bucky is a walking fucking miracle and maybe THE survivor.
He is going to have memory problems, severly. He is going to have intense PTSD flashbacks, total hallucination level, breakdowns. Seriously, this level of trauma is NEVER leaving him, not fully. Phantom pains, endless nightmares, coping mechanisms that don't make sense but comfort him none the less.
He's going to have periods of times where he can't even stand being touched, not Steve, not anyone. Weeks where he can't shower or move out of a space his brain has deemed safe for fear of being hurt. Scratches at the seam between his flesh and the metal of arm, wanting it off, wanting it away from him. Again does it necessarily make sense logically? NO!! but does he feel it 100%? Yes!!
He gets better, his bad periods get less intense, more far in between but they never fully go away. As fuckimg depressing as it is, hydra made a permanent mark on his psyche. It's FUCKED.
Gods strongest soldier is Bucky Barnes.
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band--psycho · 4 months ago
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Sylus x Reader - A Little Birdie Told Me
Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!
Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛
Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.
I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!
Thank you the anon who sent in this request, it was such fun to write this!
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L&DS Masterlist / Sylus Masterlist / Join My Taglist
Warnings: Jealous Sylus, hints of mature themes towards the end
Sylus was fully expecting to get back home to feathers, metal and blood everywhere; what else was he meant to expect when leaving you and Mephisto together for a prolonged period of time. 
You two didn’t get along. 
Sylus knew this. 
But you owed him, since he looked after the dove you found, just before going away on a work trip. 
Much to his own surprise though, you didn’t argue with him when he asked you to check in on Mephisto; which naturally only made him more suspicious. 
You were planning something. 
He didn’t know what, but the mischievous glint that was showing in your eyes as he left, confirmed his suspicions. 
That’s why he was expecting at least part of his mansion to be somewhat trashed. 
But it wasn’t. 
There were no stray feathers. 
No shards of metal. 
No specks of blood from where Mephisto could have pecked you. 
There was nothing; everything was exactly how he left it. 
And instead of his home  being filled with the sound of yours and Mephistos petty squabbles, something that he’d gotten quite used to recently, his home was silent. 
‘Maybe Luke and Kieran were right,’ he thought to himself, hanging his leather jacket on the coat hook by his front door, thinking back to what the twins had told him a few days ago as he made his way down the hall. 
According to the twins, you and Mephisto were getting along fine; more than fine in fact, according to them you two were almost inseparable, like you were friends. 
But that was a ridiculous thought, you two didn’t get along, you’d both told him that, which is what made the picture he got sent even more puzzling. 
The picture was of you, reading, as you so often do, but this time Mephisto was perched on the arm of the chair next to and your free hand was on his head, petting him.
Was that part of the reason he came back a few days earlier than he’d intended to from his trip?
Yes. 
He needed answers. 
Though it was also because that picture made him realise just how much he hated being away from you and how much he hated that he wasn’t the one being given your attention. 
Granted you could be a pain in the ass at times, sassing him at any given opportunity as well as always pushing him to do the ‘right’ thing…but he’d grown to love those qualities about you. 
You changed him. 
He knew you’d had an affect on him long ago, however it wasn’t until recently whilst he was away from you that he realised two things, 1) How much of an affect you’d truly had on him and 2) How much he’d missed everything about you; your witty and sarcastic remarks, the way your infectious smile could light up a room, the way you hummed  along to whatever song was playing through your headphones as you danced in his kitchen, completely oblivious to his presence. 
Everything. 
And now that he was home, he just wanted to see you. 
Needed to see you. 
That was the whole reason why he asked you to look after Mephisto in the first place, not that he’d ever tell you that. 
He walked into the living room, a soft smile quickly forming on his lips as he saw you fast asleep on the sofa, your body wrapped in the blanket you’d claimed as yours after a few visits, your music blaring into your ears at the loudest possible volume. 
Though Sylus’ smile faltered as he took a few more steps closer to you, allowing him to see his mechanical bird nestled in the crook of your neck, little satisfied coos left his beak as the two of you continued to sleep peacefully. 
Of all the scenarios he thought he’d be walking into, this was the most unexpected; a complete juxtaposition to what he’d assumed he’d be walking into.
He should’ve felt relief in the fact that neither of you had killed the other, but relief was not the emotion he was feeling. 
Jealousy however was. 
The same feeling that he’d tried to push to the side when he saw the picture from the twins
That’s how maddening his feelings were for you, only you could ever make him jealous of Mephisto. 
What had happened whilst he was away?
Had he somehow ended up in an alternate reality where you and Mephisto were friends? 
He shook his head at the absurd thoughts racing around in his head; but what he was seeing was exactly that, absurd. 
He wanted to wake you so he could get some answers, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so, mainly because of how peaceful you looked. 
Mephisto though was different. 
Sylus had no issue in waking him up and thanks to the music you were listening to, you wouldn’t be disturbed by his annoyed caws once he was awoken. 
~~~~~~
Safe to say, Mephisto was very unhappy at being woken up. 
And his grouchiness was naturally directed towards the person who’d disturbed him. 
“All I’m asking is, what suddenly made you two so close?” Sylus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore the jealousy remarks the crow was making. 
One thing was immediately clear to Sylus, Mephisto had certainly adopted your sassy retorts to questions. 
“I’m not,” Sylus denied; only to be mocked by the bird in front of him. 
He was becoming as infuriating as you were. 
“Are you two arguing?” You asked, your words catching Sylus off guard; he’d been so busy interrogating Mephisto that he’d been completely oblivious to you waking up or finding them in the study that they were currently standing in. 
“No,” Sylus answered simply, turning around to look at you. 
You were leaning against the doorframe of his study, your eyes meeting his and holding his gaze; it was like you were trying to read his thoughts. 
Thankfully, mind reading was not a skill you possessed. 
Much to Sylus’ dismay though, he didn’t need to answer you, because Mephisto answered for him. 
“Mephisto says you’re lying,” you stated, biting back the triumphant smile that wanted nothing more than to spread across your lips. 
Sylus didn’t know what was more shocking, the fact that she understood the Crow now behind him, or the fact that said crow had betrayed him in such a way. 
“I’m aware of what he said, sweetie,” Sylus pointed out, his voice laced with frustration as he quickly shot a glare at Mephisto. 
He knew you were going to ask why he was lying and just like that, those very words fell from your lips. 
Once again, Mephisto answered before Sylus could even open his mouth to speak; before flying very, very quickly out of the study, leaving you and Sylus alone together. 
“You were jealous?” You asked, taking a few steps closer to Sylus. 
Sylus didn’t want to admit it, but you were annoyingly persistent when you wanted answers. 
So unless he wanted to be continuously asked about Mephistos comment (Which he didn’t) he had no other choice to answer your question honestly.
“Yes,” he admitted, his voice low as you continued walking towards him, only stopping once you were directly infront of him. 
“Why?” You pushed.
He hated to admit that he was jealous; let alone saying the reason why…revealing how much he really craved your attention.
“Because I-” his words trailed off as he began to notice a playful smirk tugging at your lips, the realisation dawning on him in that very moment. 
You already knew why. 
This had all been some elaborate plan to get him to admit his feelings for you. 
“Who told you?” Sylus questioned, watching as your smirk grew.
“Who told me what?” You teased coyly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re a terrible liar, sweetie,” he whispered, leaning down slightly so that his lips were brushing over the shell of your ear. 
His words alone were enough to send a shiver down your spine. 
“Who’s idea was this, yours or Mephistos?” He asked, placing a feather light kiss just under your ear. 
“Both,” you breathed out; reveling in the closeness between the two of you. 
“Thought you two didn’t get along?”  He asked quietly. 
Granted, you and Mephisto had your differences, and you didn’t always get along, but recently you’d grown quite accustomed to one another. 
Of course you squabbled, but the same way someone would with a sibling.
You knew Sylus was going to ask you to look after Mephisto, because the crow had told you so in secret.
That’s when the two of you came up with this plan. 
A plan to make Sylus jealous. 
You were never one hundred percent sure of his feelings towards you, you flirted often enough, but some people just had that type of connection, it didn’t mean he felt the same way about you, that you did him. 
“Things changed,” you answered back, your voice just as quiet as his.
“Is it true?” You asked, changing the topic of conversation as you turned your head slightly, so now your lips were inches apart. 
“Is what true?”
“What Mephisto told me about how you feel about me?”
Being this close to him was torture for the both of you; both of you waiting for the other to make the final move and close the little distance that was between you both.
He saw the anxiety creeping in your y/e/c orbs as you waited for him to answer your question. 
But he knew that he could do something better than telling you how he felt, he could show you. 
And with that thought in mind, he closed the distance between your lips. 
It took you a few seconds to actually process what was happening; but once you did you wasted no time in allowing your eyes to flutter shut and melt into the kiss. 
The kiss started off gentle, soft, the two of you clearly processing what was happening; but everything changed when you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss.
His hands found a home on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified.
“Does that answer your question, kitten?” He murmured, pulling away from you slightly. 
“I don’t know, I think I could use some clarification,” you breathlessly chuckled before his lips met yours again, obliging to give you all the clarification you needed. 
Taglist:
@xacatalepsyx @the-slytherin-poet @deathkat657 @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @tasha-1994 @popcorn-mochi01 @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22 @inlovewithsylus
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ditzydoe444 · 11 days ago
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MDNI 18+
panty stealing perv jason around puppy! reader ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
perv!jason x puppy!reader
smutty
a/n: this may possibly be part 1 bc i wanna have them FUCK but lmk
part 1 (currently) | part 2 |
jason todd didn’t have much of a social life, working away in the garage with nothing but his own thoughts was slowly driving him insane. one day, he came back from the garage and saw a moving truck outside the house next door. he knew new neighbors were coming, but he didn't expect it to happen so soon.
not that it mattered anyways, he didn’t even socialise with anyone.
next morning when he was making his early cup of coffee the doorbell rang, who could it possibly be? there was no one that cared enough about him to visit him at his own house. when he opened the front door he was met with a giant beaming smile. a younger girl, her eyes staring at him expectantly as she held out a tray of cookies.
“for my new neighbour,” she spoke happily, her smile as sweet as the scent of the cookies under his nostrils. “i don’t eat cookies,” jason grumbled, preparing to close the door on her until her foot stopped it.
“come on, it’s delicious, i baked it myself,” she grinned placing the tray even closer to him. it was very clear that she never heard the word ‘no’ through her actions of acting like a little pestering puppy. jason grabbed the tray before slamming the door in her face.
later that night jason was preparing to sleep early due to heavy work at the garage. the last thing he expected to see was you changing right in front of your window, curtains open. clearly, you were unaware of your current situation, stripping down from your mini dress where you were only in your tiny baby pink bra and panties. jason knew it was wrong to stare, god he probably looked like a pervert right now, and his thoughts further reinforced that.
he admired the soft delicate curves on your body, wondering how it would feel under his calloused hands. everything stopped the moment you removed your bra and panties before walking to the bathroom door. jason tried his best to not feel guilty about the whole situation, though the strain in his pants didn’t help the situation.
next day he left his house as early as he could to avoid you from knocking on his door again, despite his guilt his mind was constantly replying to what he saw from the window. though jason couldn’t even make it to the truck before he heard your voice calling out.
“hey!” you beamed skipping towards his truck in the driveway, wearing the tiniest two-piece pyjama set he as ever seen in his life. jason groaned, this was exactly what he didn’t want to happen.
“heard you are a mechanic and like to fix things,” she smiled, completely unaware of the effect she had on him. jason raised his brow, “what do you need that has to be fixed” his arms crossed around his chest and he swore he saw her checking his muscles out.
“my drawer broke during the moving process, so i got a new one but i don’t know how to build it.” it was a bad idea, a really really, bad idea. going to her house, let alone her bedroom after last night was something he shouldn’t do, but yet he couldn’t bring himself to say no.
“sure.”
**
it was going well, for the most part, building furniture was like child's play for jason, which was why he had finished the drawer pretty quickly. however, she insisted that she baked him something to eat as a ‘thank you’, despite jason’s protest it became pretty clear she always got what she wanted. trying to stay away from her jason offered to help build her other furniture after seeing all of the boxes in her room. he started to build her vanity, quickly working on placing it together.
however, one thing caught his attention. in the pile of clothes she had dumped he saw the same baby pink panties slightly hidden by the pile of other clothes, anyone else would’ve overlooked it but he couldn’t.
“jay! cookies are ready!” her voice breaking him out of his trance. he knew he shouldn’t, it was wrong, so goddamn wrong. before he could even think rationally he took the flimsy piece of fabric and shoved it into his back pocket.
he felt guilty, you were so blissfully unaware as you rambled on about the moving situation, jason’s mind clearly not listening as he thought about the fabric in his back pocket. “i should go,” he grumbled standing up, you pouted at how quickly he wanted to leave.
“you sure? you can stay for dinner,” you smiled in an attempt to brighten the mood. jason didn’t care, already making his way to the front door. “no, it’s all good. thanks for the cookies.”
you quickly followed him, your bare feet padding down the hallway. “wait! at least take the cookies with you,” you pouted as your hands held out the tray. “it’s fine, really.”
did he hate you that much?
**
answer is no. jason was currently jerking off with your panty, the fabric covering his dick as he strokes it with his hand. “f-fuck,” he groaned as his head falls back on the pillow, his eyes shut. the material was soft, he wondered what it would feel like to have him rubbing his cock against your clothed cunt, maybe you would be so soaked that he could basically see the whole damn thing.
he wasn’t a saint when he went to your house even after stealing your panty, the way his eyes focused on your ass when you pranced around shorts that were so short leaving your cheeks exposed. he watched as you squeezed the syrup sauce on your drink. the way you frowned when you squeezed it and nothing came out, so you decided you point the nuzzle toward you, as you inspected it and squeezed it. once it finally worked, the thick sugary syrup squirting on your cheek slightly he wondered how you would react if it was his come painting your pretty little face when you sucked him off.
would you have giggled as you did with the syrup? grabbing the sugary liquid off your face with your finger before sucking it off with a ‘pop’?
god he didn’t even want to talk about how your tits shook when you pumped the syrup out. the tight shirt with no bra meant he saw every little movement. the way they moved with your hands as you shook the bottle.
as much as he didn’t want to admit it, you following him around as a little lost puppy was adorable. you were so obedient when he had asked for extra syrup on his drink purely because he wanted to see your tits move as you shook the bottle you were eager to comply. he was pretty damn sure that if he asked you to ride his boot you would with no hesitation.
the moment he had returned to his room he sniffed the material that was shoved in his back pocket, it was wrong, so wrong but he couldn’t stop. maybe if he stole all of your panties you would just prance around with your bare cunt. if he went by to your house to help with the remaining furniture and you were so dutifully adorable by baking him something sweet, he might catch a glimpse of your bare cunt bent over the kitchen bench as you baked. he also didn’t miss the way your tits were pushed together when you squeezed the icing on the cupcake you were baking for a party, he wondered what it would be like to hold them in his hands.
it wasn’t long before he came on your panty, his thick liquid spilling out tainting the material. god he was done for.
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kirammanswifey · 19 days ago
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Hii, I read your pt 1 n 2 of arcane characters breaking up with their s/o
Would you be able to hurt us(me) even more? Like they took too long to get us back that R already move on with someone better
Pretty pretty please🥺?
what if you never reconciled with arcane's characters after the breakup x fem reader
characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.
writer's note: i loved the person who asked me to do this because i had thought about doing it but i didn't know if you guys wanted to read more of this but i guess we'll are masochist. so i ended up depressed after writing this, and that's saying a lot for a psychology student, the one i found the saddest and the hardest to write was jinx's, i love writing sad things but it's already too much suffering, later I'll come up with something lighter and nicer. as you guys know, requests are open ;)
break up link:
reconciliation link:
Viktor
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The auditorium filled with applause as you finished your presentation. The project you had worked tirelessly on was finally being recognized. You felt proud, but also empty, as if something important was missing. As you looked up, you saw him. Viktor, at the back of the room, trying to go unnoticed, almost ready to leave.
Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized him. It had been two months since the breakup, two months of complete silence. Without thinking, you called his name. "Viktor."
He stopped, turning slowly toward you. The auditorium's light accentuated the paleness of his face, his sunken eyes, and his thin body seemed even more fragile. Concern washed over you instantly, but you held back the urge to approach and ask what was happening to him.
"How are you? How have things been going?" you managed to say, though your voice trembled slightly, betraying the calm you were trying to project.
"Fine." His response was cold, distant, almost mechanical. "The lab is progressing. The projects are going as expected."
Each word of his was a dagger, his formality making you feel like a stranger, as if you had never been part of his life. The lump in your throat grew, but you forced yourself to continue. You couldn't leave things like this.
"Why didn’t you reach out, Viktor? Do you still feel the same?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, fearing the answer but needing to hear it.
Viktor closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before responding. "Yes, I still feel the same. What I’m doing is bigger than us. I can't afford distractions."
His voice was firm, but you could sense the slight hesitation, the pain he was trying to hide. Despite that, it hurt more than you expected. You nodded slowly, accepting the inevitable, though it broke your heart.
"Thank you for coming," you said coldly, matching the distance he had put between you. "I appreciate you taking the time to listen to me."
You turned around, ready to leave before the tears betrayed your façade. But as you walked away, you felt his eyes on you, almost as if he was waiting for something more, something you weren’t willing to give.
Viktor stood there, motionless, internally conflicted. In his mind, every memory with you fought against his convictions. He wanted to approach, to risk a second chance, to ask you to come back. The thought of losing you forever was suffocating him, but he also feared that his illness, his obsession with science, was too much for you to bear.
Finally, he decided to take that step, to approach you, to break the barrier he had built himself. But by the time he gathered the courage, it was too late. You had been intercepted by a colleague, a man who radiated health and vitality, someone who made you smile in a way Viktor couldn’t remember seeing for a long time.
From afar, Viktor watched, his heart breaking as he saw how the man made you laugh, how he looked at you with admiration. In that moment, he understood something he had always feared: you deserved someone better than him, someone who could be completely with you without the chains of science and illness.
He decided to leave, convinced that intervening would only cause you more pain. He didn’t know that as he walked away, you were watching him from afar, with a broken heart, wishing he had fought for you, even just a little more.
Jinx
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Days passed after that heartbreaking farewell. The memories piled up in your mind, like broken pieces of a puzzle you could never put back together. Jinx's absence was a crushing weight, leaving you breathless, powerless. Her laughter, her mischief, her uncontrollable chaos... all had disappeared, and in their place, only an unbearable void remained.
One afternoon, as the rain furiously pounded against the windows and the sky was draped in gray, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew exactly where to find her. On somber days, Jinx always sought refuge at the cliff, a place where the world seemed to end and the abyss opened before her like an invitation.
You ran through the rain, feeling each drop like needles on your skin, every step filled with a desperation that was suffocating you. When you reached the cliff, your heart stopped. Jinx wasn’t sitting, as she usually did, lost in her thoughts. She was standing, at the edge of the abyss, her slender figure barely visible in the mist.
But before you could take another step, she jumped.
The scream that tore from your throat was heart-wrenching, an echo lost in the wind. You ran to the edge, but what you saw below froze your blood. Jinx lay on the rocks, her body shattered by the fall, motionless, lifeless. The sight left you petrified, unable to move, unable to breathe.
The days that followed were torment. Guilt consumed you. What if you had arrived earlier? What if you had said something different? What if you had hugged her tighter? The questions haunted you, whispering in your ear that it was all your fault, that you hadn’t done enough to save her.
You didn’t eat, you didn’t sleep. You just returned to that cliff over and over again, hoping to find answers in the void Jinx had left. But all you found was more silence, more loneliness.
One night, when the moon barely peeked through the clouds, the weight became unbearable. You couldn’t go on without her. You decided it was time to join Jinx, to follow her steps into the abyss. You walked to the edge, feeling the cold wind on your skin, and looked down at the place where your love had met its end.
Then, a vision stopped you. Jinx appeared before you, but not like the last time. She was smiling, her gaze sweet and mischievous, like when she used to laugh at your jokes or drag you into her chaotic adventures. "Don't be sad, sugar," she whispered. "I'm here. I'll always be here."
Her words, though you knew they were just a hallucination, filled you with a strange comfort. You smiled, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I'm going to be with you," you promised her. And without thinking further, you leapt into the abyss, letting the darkness take you, driven by the desire to be with Jinx once more.
Upon impact, everything became silence. But in that silence, there was something more. A whisper, an echo of eternal love.
In every universe, in every possible existence, you two would always be together. Even in death, even in the void. Because your love was that strong, that eternal.
Vi
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Vi had spent two years engulfed in a darkness she couldn’t escape. After you left her, everything became a whirlwind of underground fights and empty bottles. Each punch she took, each night spent alone in the darkest corners of Zaun, made her think of you, of what she had lost. In her mind, she was always sure you would come back for her, that your love for her would be strong enough to forgive her. But days turned into weeks, then into months, and eventually, years. And you never came back.
One day, a job brought her to Piltover. A corrupt politician had paid her to "teach a lesson" to someone who owed him money. The money was enough for Vi to accept without asking questions. She was walking through the gleaming streets of the city when her body collided with someone else's.
“Sorry,” she said automatically, but when she looked up, she was left breathless. It was you. More radiant than ever, with a presence that seemed to light up even the cold stone of Piltover. Vi couldn’t help herself, she hugged you tightly as if her life depended on it. “I missed you so much,” she whispered into your hair. But her world stopped when she didn’t feel your arms returning the embrace. Instead, your body was stiff, distant.
You gently pulled away, but your gaze was like a dagger. “What’s wrong?” Vi asked, her voice trembling with confusion and the pain now flooding her. “Why are you treating me like this?”
Your expression hardened, and your words were cold, sharp as steel. “Do you really expect me to welcome you with open arms after what you did? After what you said?” Your eyes burned with a fire Vi didn’t recognize, a fire from someone who had suffered and changed. “You left me, Violet. You said things that broke me. And now, after two years, you expect me to greet you like nothing happened?”
Vi tried to respond, but the words died in her throat. There weren’t enough excuses to explain what she had done.
You continued, not giving her a moment to breathe. “Things changed when you left, Violet.” You raised your hand, showing a ring that gleamed under the sunlight. “My parents married me off to someone from the Council. At first, I thought it would be the end of the world, that I’d never get over it. But now… now I’m happy.” You paused, letting your words sink into Vi like a slow-acting poison. “I have a family. I have stability. And I’m happy. With you, Violet, I would never have had that.”
Vi looked at you, unsure of what to do, what to say. In her mind, you were still the person who loved her, but now, standing before her, you had transformed into someone completely different.
At that moment, a man approached. Tall, in his thirties, with a well-groomed beard, and in his arms, a small child with a smile Vi instantly recognized as yours. The man kissed you on the cheek and then handed you the child. Your face lit up with love as you held him.
“Sweetheart, did you find what you were looking for?” the man asked, glancing at Vi with curiosity. “Is she a friend of yours?”
Vi felt like the ground crumbled beneath her feet. You looked back at her, but now, your eyes were just cold reflections of the past. “No,” you said with a tone that cut Vi to the core. “Just someone I used to know.”
Without another word, you turned away, the man beside you, the child in your arms, and the three of you walked off, a perfect picture of the happiness Vi had always dreamed of but could never achieve.
Vi stood there, motionless, in the middle of the street, as tears streamed uncontrollably down her face. Her entire world crumbled in that instant. Everything she had believed, everything she had hoped for, was gone. And now she knew she would live with regret for the rest of her life.
Caitlyn
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The trial was a brutal display of coldness. You stood there, in the center, surrounded by the faces of Piltover who had once respected you. But now, you were nothing more than a traitor to them. Your hands were cuffed behind your back, your gaze fixed on Caitlyn, waiting... begging for her to say something, to defend you, to plead on your behalf. But she remained silent, rigid, her expression unyielding. The façade of the perfect enforcer intact, as you crumbled.
As you left the court, the cold air hit you harder than the judges' words. Caitlyn approached the guards, requesting to personally escort you to the edge of exile. Your eyes met hers, seeking answers, some sign that there was still something between you.
"Why?" you whispered, your voice breaking.
Caitlyn looked at you, her face colder than ever. "I did what I had to do," she said with a hardness that made you shiver. "If you had done the same, you wouldn't be in this situation."
There were no more words. No goodbyes. Just a chasm that opened between you, killing everything that had ever existed.
A year later, Piltover was burning in chaos. Zaun's gangsters had unleashed a revolt, and Caitlyn, always the leader, was on the front lines. The battle roared around her, but she didn't see the attacker coming until it was too late. The blade of a knife gleamed in the air, aimed at her, until a precise shot stopped the assailant.
Caitlyn turned, her rifle pointed at her supposed savior. "Back off," she ordered firmly, though her heart was racing.
The figure in front of her removed the owl mask, revealing a face that took her breath away.
"You're still an exceptional shooter, Cait," you said with a sad smile, your voice laden with painful nostalgia.
The chaos had ceased, the silence weighed between you. Caitlyn didn't understand how everything had ended so quickly, how her men had been immobilized. Her eyes filled with questions, and you, with a flash of understanding, gave her the answer before she could formulate it.
"It was us."
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. "Us?"
You laughed, a sound that carried both sadness and resignation. "I'm part of the Firelights. We heard about the revolt and came to the rescue. We don't want more trouble between Piltover and Zaun, so we stopped it to avoid reprisals."
Caitlyn's eyes widened, recognizing the rebel group that had caused so many headaches for the Enforcers.
"They took me in when I was exiled to Zaun," you continued with a touch of sadness. "They're my family now."
Caitlyn stepped forward, regret etching her face. "I... I missed you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I regret not defending you."
But before she could say more, a figure riding a hoverboard approached. Wearing a mask similar to yours, his dark skin and white hair gave him away: Ekko, the leader of the Firelights.
"All clear. Let's go, babe," he said, extending a hand to you. Then, he cast a sarcastic glance at Caitlyn. "Looks like the Enforcers don't know how to do their job anymore."
Caitlyn opened her mouth to protest, but you playfully smacked Ekko on the head. "Don't be cheeky," you chided, but the boy just smiled and kissed you tenderly.
Caitlyn froze, watching the scene with disbelief and pain. Seeing the love of her life with someone else was an agony she wasn't prepared to face.
You climbed onto the board with Ekko, but before leaving, you turned to Caitlyn. "I hope you can find happiness someday, Cait," you said softly, your words a reminder that sometimes justice isn't enough to fill the void in the soul.
And with that, you vanished into the air, laughing with Ekko, leaving Caitlyn alone, shattered. She stood there, staring at the spot where you'd disappeared, the regret devouring her inside. But she didn't allow herself to feel more. She had a mess to clean up and a report to deliver. There was no room for pain now, and that would always be her greatest flaw.
Jayce
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It had been five months since the last time you saw Jayce, five months since that painful goodbye that had left your heart in pieces. But you didn't allow yourself to stay in that state. You channeled your pain into ambition, into a fierce determination to prove your worth beyond being "Jayce Talis' partner." You joined the world of politics, and against all odds, you managed to gain acceptance into the Council of Piltover.
The news of your rise had spread to every corner of the city, but Jayce, absorbed in his work with Hextech technology and his duties as a Council member, hadn't noticed your progress until that day.
The first Council meeting with your presence was a revelation. All the members praised you, impressed by your intellect and the innovative plans you had proposed for the city. But Jayce heard none of that. His attention was completely captured by you.
You looked different. Your hair, which you used to wear long and dark, was now short and dyed a vibrant coral red. The clothes you wore were more revealing, showing a confidence in yourself he had never seen before. It was as if you were a completely new person, someone who no longer depended on anyone's shadow.
When the meeting ended, Jayce approached you with his characteristic smile, the one that used to melt your heart. "I didn’t expect to see you here," he said with a mix of surprise and admiration. "It seems a lot has changed."
You returned his smile, but there was a touch of disdain in your eyes. "Yes, many things changed in my life when you left, Jayce. Everything got better," you said firmly. "I focused on my career and made a name for myself in Piltover for my skills and intelligence. I'm no longer recognized as Jayce Talis' partner. I'm no longer the pretty doll you used to take to those fancy parties."
Jayce frowned, his expression turning serious. "I never treated you like an object," he replied defensively. "That was always a misunderstanding. I just took care of you and gave you everything you wanted."
You shook your head slowly, your gaze steady on his. "No, Jayce. You clipped my wings. You didn’t let me be who I really am. And I'm so happy you left me because now I’m enjoying life, and I love who I am."
Jayce opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted him. "There's talk that you have a relationship with Mel Medarda."
The surprise on his face was evident, but he quickly denied it, his tone defensive. "Of course not. We're just partners."
A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "More like master and slave. It’s pathetic to see how you let yourself be influenced and manipulated by someone else. The Jayce I knew, the one I once loved, would never have allowed that."
Jayce barely heard the reproach. His attention was caught by your words. "You don't love me anymore?" he asked, his voice hurt and low.
You took a deep breath, your eyes meeting his with brutal sincerity. "No, Jayce. I don’t. I’ve moved on from you."
Jayce was left speechless, the emotional blow visible on his face. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy for you to forget him, especially when he hadn’t forgotten you.
Before you left, you stepped a little closer, your voice soft but firm. "And you know what the best part is, Jayce? I didn’t need to hook up with anyone else to do it. I got over you when I learned to focus on myself and my needs. You should do the same."
Without waiting for a response, you turned around and walked away, leaving Jayce there, paralyzed by the weight of your words. It was as if you had slapped him, leaving him breathless, not knowing how to recover from that loss. Because you would be a loss that would hurt him for the rest of his life.
Ekko
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Months have passed since that last conversation that ended your relationship. Since then, Zaun has changed, and so have you. You've learned to live without Ekko, though the void he left still hurts. Fate, however, seems determined to cross your paths again. And it is on a rainy night, in an alley you used to walk together, that you meet once more.
Ekko is there, under the dim light of a streetlamp, his silhouette wet from the rain but heavier with guilt. He sees you approach, and something inside him breaks. Time hasn't healed his wounds, only made them deeper.
"I didn’t think I’d see you here again," he murmurs, his voice almost inaudible beneath the sound of the rain.
Your heart races at the sight of him, but you stay firm. "I didn’t think I’d see you again either."
Ekko's eyes scan you, searching for something to give him strength to speak. "How have you been?" he asks, knowing that any answer will be insufficient for the pain he caused.
"I managed," you reply coldly. "And you? Doesn’t Zaun need you anymore?"
Ekko lowers his gaze, ashamed. "Zaun will always need me, but... I've been thinking a lot about us. About what I did, about what I said."
"And have you reached any conclusions?" you ask, keeping your tone distant.
"That I was wrong," he admits, his voice breaking. "That each day without you weighs more on me. That I let you go out of fear, out of responsibility... but I never stopped loving you."
His confession hits you, but it’s not enough to erase the pain. "Ekko, you made your choice. You chose Zaun over us."
"I know," he says, taking a step closer but not daring to move further. "And I regret it. If I could go back, I would. But I can’t. I just wanted to say I’m sorry, that I miss you... that every day I regret more what I lost."
Silence takes over the moment. The rain continues to fall, cold and relentless, like the fate you both share. You look at Ekko, and for a moment, the love you still feel battles against the resentment.
"Ekko, love isn’t enough when it becomes a burden. I can’t go back to that, I can’t be your second place again," you say, trying to maintain your composure.
"I know," he replies, his voice barely a whisper. "But I wanted you to know that I’ll always love you. Even if I can’t fix it, even if I can’t win you back, you’ll always be a part of me."
"And you of me," you admit, finally letting the tears you’ve held back fall. "But it’s too late, Ekko. Too late for us."
Reality sets in, and both of you know it. Without words, you look at each other one last time, each trying to engrave that moment in memory. Finally, you turn away, leaving Ekko alone, with the rain as his only company.
As you walk away, something inside you stops you, as if there are still words left to say. You turn slowly, facing Ekko once more, with the rain falling between you like a curtain of memories and pain.
"Do you remember what you told me the last time we talked?" you ask, your voice trembling but firm. "You said that sometimes there are battles not worth fighting because you know you’ll never win them."
Ekko nods, the weight of his own words reflected in his tired eyes. "Yes, I remember. And I regret saying it."
"Don’t regret it," you say, a bitter smile forming on your lips. "Because you were right. This... us... we were one of those battles. I fought for you, for us, but in the end, we couldn’t win. We couldn’t be what we needed for each other."
Ekko closes his eyes, the pain in his chest intensifying. "I never wanted it to be like this. I never wanted you to lose faith in us."
"Faith wasn’t enough," you reply, your words cutting like a knife. "Not when the battle was lost from the start."
Silence takes over once more, each word a reminder of what was and will never be. Finally, you step back, moving away from Ekko and everything he represents.
"Goodbye, Ekko," you whisper, letting the rain wash away the last tears falling down your cheeks.
Ekko watches you leave, knowing those words will be the last you share. And as you disappear into the distance, his own regret consumes him, leaving him alone with the weight of a battle he should never have abandoned.
Silco
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The lights flickered weakly in the brothel of the Undercity, as voices mingled with the clamor of incessant activity. Silco moved through the shadows, his presence as imposing as ever, closing a deal with one of his associates. Everything was going according to plan until his gaze stopped in a dark corner, and he saw you.
You were there, your makeup smeared, and your provocative clothing accentuating the marks of injuries that covered your skin. Silco felt a dry blow in his chest, a combination of anger and suffocating guilt. He couldn’t help but approach you, his hand gripping your arm firmly.
"What are you doing here?" he asked with a harsh voice, each word laden with tension he couldn’t hide.
You looked up, your eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and latent hatred, but a bitter smile formed on your lips. "I'm exactly where I should be, Silco. I should never have left this place in the first place."
Silco narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening even more. "Don’t give me evasions. I want the truth."
You sighed deeply, letting the facade fall. Your eyes locked onto his, this time without a trace of the smile. "You want the truth? Very well." Your voice was a whisper laced with pain. "When you decided to abandon me, many started hunting me. I survived some attacks, others I didn’t." Slowly, you brushed your hair aside, revealing the patch over your left eye. "They tore it out. And, like everything in this damn place, they sold it to the highest bidder. Some found it exciting to have the eye of Silco's former 'bitch.'"
The rawness of your words left him immobile. The trauma soaked every syllable, and the guilt Silco felt grew like an oppressive shadow. "I had no one to protect me, no place to go. This brothel was my last refuge. So here I am, back in the only place I should never have left. And surprisingly, I'm doing well. You’d be surprised at what they're willing to pay for an encounter with what once belonged to you."
Silco couldn’t bear the self-degradation in your voice. "I’m going to get you out of here," he said firmly. "I’ll pay whatever it takes and bring you back home."
He leaned in to hug you, but you pushed him away with a scornful gesture. "What’s the matter, Silco? Tired of your new acquisition already? Miss having me under your control, like your personal trophy?" Your voice was lethal poison. "Keep your promises. I’m not going back with you. You taught me that love is an illusion, a mirage that only serves to mask hatred and danger. And sadly, I’m surrounded by both."
Silco swallowed, his facade beginning to crack. "Please," he insisted, his voice tinged with an unusual tremor. "Let me fix this. Let me help you."
But you had already walked away, heading toward an exotic-looking man waiting for you in a corner. "If you’ll excuse me, I have to work."
Without giving him another glance, you left, leaving Silco alone, trapped in a whirlwind of regret and pain. In his attempt to protect you, it was he who had condemned you to this life, and now the weight of his decisions crushed him, plunging him into a darkness even he could not master.
Mel
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It was an ordinary day when, upon opening your front door, you found Mel standing there, her eyes red from crying, her face filled with a despair so profound it moved you. Her posture, hunched and fragile, spoke more than any words could. Before you could say anything, she threw herself at you, seeking comfort as if her entire world had collapsed in an instant.
Words tumbled from her mouth in a rush, like a torrent of repressed emotions finally finding an outlet. "I’ve done it... I’ve done everything wrong... I don’t want to lose you. I can’t... please, don’t leave me. I need us to be together again. I can’t live with this lie. I love you, I love you, I’m begging you."
You held her in your arms, feeling her trembling body against yours, a refuge against the internal storm consuming her. You clung to her, hoping that all that had been broken between you could be repaired, but then, an unfamiliar voice interrupted the stillness of that moment.
"Sorry to interrupt," said a familiar female voice, with a tone that shook you. Caitlyn Kiramman appeared in the doorway, her hair disheveled, wearing a white shirt, almost translucent, that Mel recognized instantly. A shiver ran through her as she saw that the shirt belonged to you. Caitlyn smiled, somewhat awkwardly, but serene. "I’ll wait for you in the room," she said calmly before retreating into the house.
Mel, paralyzed, looked at you in disbelief, her anger beginning to awaken. "Seriously?" Her voice broke with disdain, but there was a contained fury in her eyes that you couldn’t ignore. "Caitlyn Kiramman? You couldn’t find a better replacement for me? Seriously?"
You stared at her for a moment before responding with a calmness that only masked the truth behind your words. "No, Mel, I’m not looking for replacements. Caitlyn isn’t here to fill any voids; she’s here for a good time. And let me tell you, she’s done an excellent job at that."
Mel clenched her fists, her face turning red with rage, frustration taking over her. "How could you? Did you cheat on me? With her? After everything we’ve been through?" Her words were sharp, like knives, and her pain became more evident with each passing second.
You remained serene, though something inside you was breaking. "What did you want me to do, Mel? Sit in a corner, crying in a bubble of self-pity, like you probably did all this time? No, Mel, I couldn’t just sit and wait for something to change. Life is too short to keep waiting for the impossible."
Mel’s words came out as a sigh of disappointment. "I’m so disappointed in you," she said, her voice trembling from the impact of your words.
You sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on your chest. "What we were living wasn’t real, Mel. It wasn’t enough for you, and it wasn’t enough for me either. You’ve been living in your mother’s shadow this whole time, looking for something you’ll never find. I can’t keep waiting for you to understand that. You got stuck in your world, and in the meantime, I moved on. I’m not going to apologize for that."
Mel, in tears, tried to get closer, a desperate attempt to capture what was already gone. She tried to kiss you, but you stopped her with unyielding firmness. "Mel," you said with a clear, firm voice. "Don’t do this. Don’t do this to yourself."
She fell to her knees, her face overflowing with pain. "I beg you... please, come back to me. You’re the only real thing I’ve had in my life. I need you, I can’t live without you." Her sobs were heart-wrenching, like a child lost in a cruel world.
You looked at her for a long moment, your heart heavy, but the words that came from your lips were inevitable. "And why didn’t you take care of me, Mel? Why did you let me go so easily? If you really loved me, why did you abandon me? Why did you let me face all of this alone?"
Mel didn’t know what to say. She stayed there, her mouth open, unable to offer any justification. She only murmured one last "I love you" in an almost inaudible whisper.
You sighed deeply, the weight of reality crushing you, and you gently lifted her from the ground, guiding her to the door. "Goodbye, Mel. I hope you can sort things out with your mother. I can’t keep being part of this battle."
The door closed with a dull thud, and it wasn’t just the door to your house that was closing, but also the door to your heart. There was nothing more to do. It was time to let go.
Sevika
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The night was shrouded in a dense mist, and the bar buzzed with a mix of laughter, muffled conversations, and the clinking of glasses filled with liquid oblivion. The air was thick, saturated with the smell of tobacco, spilled alcohol, and sweat—a temporary refuge for broken souls. Sevika pushed the bar door open, stumbling slightly, her unsteady steps reflecting the state of her soul. Her dark, glassy eyes scanned the place with a mix of desperation and anxiety, seeking to drown the loneliness that pursued her like a relentless shadow.
When her eyes landed on the bar, her heart stopped for a moment that seemed eternal. There you were, behind the counter, moving with the professional grace of someone who had learned to hide pain behind a mask of indifference. Sevika felt the ground beneath her feet grow unstable, as if the earth itself was rebelling against her presence. She approached slowly, as if each step brought her closer to an abyss she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross.
When she reached the bar, she leaned on the counter with both hands, leaning toward you. Your gaze was a mix of surprise and something colder, something that made her shiver more than any strong drink.
"What do you want to drink?" you asked in a professional, restrained voice, your eyes barely shifting in her direction.
Sevika looked at you, desperately searching for any trace of the warmth you used to have. "I’ve missed you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper before a knot in her throat broke it. "I’m sorry... God, I’m so sorry for how things ended between us."
She took your hands with unusual clumsiness, kissing them repeatedly as her words fell like broken laments. "I’ve been alone, so alone that I looked for others to forget you, but it didn’t work. No one can make me forget you. Please, give me another chance."
You sighed, and with a calculated gesture, called another colleague to replace you, leading her outside to the back alley. You lit a cigarette calmly, offering her one that she accepted in silence. Both of you smoked, the smoke forming an almost tangible barrier between you.
The silence was finally broken by a question that escaped as a rough whisper from her lips: "Why aren’t you saying anything?"
You finished smoking, dropping the cigarette and crushing it underfoot before facing her directly. "What do you want me to say, Sevika?" Your voice was low, but each word was a dart piercing Sevika's chest.
She frowned, surprised by the coldness in your tone. "I don’t know, something. Something that doesn’t make me feel like a fool."
"Why do you feel like a fool?" you asked, crossing your arms, one eyebrow slightly raised.
Sevika gritted her teeth, her fury beginning to bubble just beneath the surface. "Because I confessed my feelings to you, told you everything I went through, and it seems like you don’t give a damn."
You nodded, as if slowly processing her words before responding with icy calm. "And did you care when you left me? Did you think about how your decision would affect me? Did you think about anyone other than yourself?"
Her words caught in her throat, and for the first time, Sevika didn’t know what to say. Your smile was bitter, triumphant. "Of course not. You’re a selfish person, Sevika. You walked in here by chance, and upon seeing me, suddenly you miss me and want everything back. Well, I’m not buying that crap."
"It’s not like that," she denied desperately. "I miss you, really. I care about you."
Your frown deepened, and you shook your head. "It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. You made your decision, and you have no right to ask me for anything after what you did to me."
Sevika tried to interrupt, but you cut her off sharply. "My break is over. Don’t drink anymore tonight. You’re talking nonsense." And with that, you went back inside, leaving her there, alone in the darkness.
Sevika stayed in the alley, staring at the door that closed behind you, while rage and sadness fused into a silent scream. She punched the wall hard, letting the physical pain try to drown out the torment she felt inside. But deep down, she knew that punch wasn’t enough to erase what she had lost, nor to heal what she had destroyed.
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420b1a2eit · 3 months ago
Text
The Fall - Part 1
Jieun x Jongsuk x ???
11605 words
tags: porn, handjob, blowjob, unsatisactory sex, power bottom, threesome, double penetration
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Jieun dragged herself through the front door, dropping her bags on the floor. The tour had been grueling—shows in different cities every night, endless crowds cheering her on, but it felt empty. Despite the flashing lights and adoring fans, she missed something grounded, something familiar, like home. Like Jongsuk.
They had been texting all through the tour, long strings of “I miss you” and “I can’t wait to see you again,” but now that she was standing in the hallway of their shared apartment, a strange emptiness curled in her chest. It wasn’t like her to feel this way, not when she’d been away so long, not when she should have been desperate to wrap her arms around him.
Jongsuk appeared in the doorway, his grin wide, welcoming, too eager. He embraced her, the scent of him familiar and warm, but as their lips met, Jieun felt... nothing. Just lips pressing together, like rehearsed movements without the emotion behind them.
They didn’t waste time that evening. After dinner, after talking about her tour and the things she’d seen, they were already heading to bed. Jongsuk undressed her slowly, hands running down her back, tugging at the thin fabric of her shirt. He whispered how much he had missed her, how he had thought of her every night.
She should have been swept up in the moment, but as he touched her, kissed her skin, she felt detached, like she was watching from a distance, observing a scene from someone else’s life. His hands roamed over her body, and her breath quickened, but not in anticipation. More in uncertainty.
When he finally pushed into her, there was no spark. No sudden rush of pleasure or excitement. It felt like he was moving inside her, going through the motions, but her body wasn't responding. His breath hitched, deepening as he thrust into her with more intensity. Jieun clenched her eyes shut, trying to focus, to feel something. This is what you wanted, right?
But there was nothing. No rush of euphoria, no connection. His grunts grew louder, and he was lost in his own rhythm, oblivious to the storm of dissatisfaction swirling inside her. She tried to find pleasure in his movements, grinding her hips in sync with his, but it felt mechanical, rehearsed, lacking fire. A dull ache built in her chest. What’s wrong with me? she wondered, biting her lip, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.
When he finished, collapsing beside her, breathless and spent, Jieun lay still, her body tense. She felt empty in more ways than one. Her mind raced, trying to process the numbness. Jongsuk kissed her cheek, whispered that he loved her, and she forced a smile, though her heart wasn’t in it.
The next few nights followed the same rhythm—he’d reach for her, and she’d respond, trying to coax some kind of desire, some spark of arousal. But each time, it was the same. His hands felt heavy, his movements predictable. Sex had turned into a routine, like brushing her teeth or making the bed, just another thing to check off the list.
Days passed, and her frustration mounted. Was it him? Was he not enough anymore? Or was it her? Had she become too jaded, too caught up in her own head to enjoy something so simple? She found herself scrolling mindlessly through the internet one night, looking for answers, trying to distract herself from the growing pit in her stomach.
That’s when she stumbled upon a video. It wasn’t something she’d normally click on, but something about the thumbnail caught her eye—a woman, wild-eyed, moaning between two men. Curiosity pulled her in, and before she realized what was happening, she was watching the screen intently. The woman was lost in the heat of the moment, sandwiched between two black men who looked like they were in complete control, their hands rough, their bodies overwhelming. They dominated her, both taking her at the same time, filling her from every angle.
Jieun’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing as she watched the scene unfold. The woman looked so... free. So completely consumed by pleasure. The intensity of it sent a thrill down Jieun’s spine. For the first time in weeks, she felt something stir inside her, a hunger she hadn’t known was there. It wasn’t just the act itself, it was the power dynamics, the thrill of submission, the raw intensity of being utterly devoured by not one, but two men.
Was this what she was missing?
She couldn’t get the image out of her head, the way the woman writhed and moaned, completely at their mercy, and the way she begged for more, so desperate to be filled by them both. It was intoxicating. Jieun tried to push the thought away, but it clung to her mind, growing louder, more persistent.
She didn’t want to cheat. That wasn’t the answer. But what if...?
A week passed since Jieun had returned home, a dull haze lingering between her and Jongsuk. The nights they spent together had been filled with routine passion—his hands roamed her body, his lips found all the familiar places, but something was off. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how deep his thrusts or how desperate his words of desire, Jieun couldn't find the satisfaction she craved.
It wasn’t him—she told herself that over and over. Jongsuk loved her, he was attentive, always trying to make her feel good. But each time they finished, as he lay beside her, sweaty and sated, she felt nothing but an aching emptiness in her chest. Her thoughts would wander, her mind flicking through vague fantasies, and recently, one had been burning brighter than the others. That porn video.
She had tried to brush it off at first, telling herself it was just the idea of something new, something different. But it wasn’t just the novelty. There was something about the power, the submission, the way the woman was overwhelmed by two men at once.
And now, the thought clung to her like a drug, seeping into her dreams, making her wet in the middle of the night when Jongsuk was fast asleep beside her.
Jieun hesitated for days, unsure how to bring it up to Jongsuk. She wondered if he would think she was crazy, or worse, be disgusted. But the idea had already taken root, blossoming into a full-blown fantasy that she couldn’t ignore. One night, as they were lying in bed after yet another unsatisfying round of sex, she finally gathered the courage. She rolled over, her hand sliding down Jongsuk’s chest, fingers tracing the faint line of hair leading lower.
"Baby..." Her voice was a whisper, sultry, laced with intent. Her fingers wrapped around his softening cock, stroking it lazily. "What if... we tried something different?"
His eyes flickered open, looking at her with curiosity but also a hint of confusion. "Different?" he murmured, his voice thick with post-coital drowsiness. "What do you mean?"
She smiled, a slow, seductive curve of her lips, her fingers tightening slightly around his length, coaxing it back to life. "You know... I’ve been thinking. About how we could... spice things up."
Jongsuk let out a low groan as her hand began to move more purposefully, stroking him harder, faster, feeling him twitch under her touch. "Like what?" he asked, his voice now more awake, intrigued.
Jieun leaned in closer, her lips brushing his ear. "What if... there was another man with us?" Her words were deliberate, soft but heavy with meaning. She could feel him stiffen—not just his cock, but his entire body, tensing under her suggestion.
"Another... man?" he echoed, clearly surprised.
"Mm-hmm." Her fingers moved with more urgency now, her hand pumping his cock steadily, feeling him harden fully in her grip. "Just imagine it, baby. Me... between the two of you. Another man taking me, while you watch. Or maybe you both fuck me at the same time..."
She felt him inhale sharply, the tension in his body increasing as her words sank in. His cock throbbed in her hand, and she knew she was getting to him.
"Love... I…" His voice was hesitant, a mixture of disbelief and arousal, his thoughts clearly torn between the idea and the unfamiliar territory she was leading him into.
She didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. The idea had consumed her for days, and now she was planting it deep in his mind, making him see it, making him feel it. She shifted lower, her lips grazing his collarbone, then trailing down his chest, her breath hot against his skin.
"Can you picture it, baby?" she purred, her mouth now hovering over his cock. "Me... on my knees... two cocks in my mouth... or maybe one fucking me from behind, the other filling my mouth." She looked up at him, locking eyes as she parted her lips, taking him into her mouth slowly, deliberately.
Jongsuk’s breath hitched, his hips bucking up slightly as she enveloped him, her mouth wet, hot, and eager. His hand instinctively reached for her hair, fingers tangling in the strands as she sucked him deeper, letting him feel the weight of her desire.
She pulled back just enough to speak, her voice muffled by his cock still grazing her lips. "You’d love it, wouldn’t you? Watching me take it from both of you... seeing me so full, so used."
Her tongue flicked over the tip of his cock, teasing, as her hand continued stroking the base. "You’d fuck me harder than ever, just to show him that I’m yours. You’d get so turned on, knowing another man is inside me... knowing that I’m being shared."
Jongsuk groaned, his grip tightening in her hair, his body responding to every filthy word spilling from her lips. She bobbed her head, sucking him with more intensity now, her hand working in time with her mouth.
"Tell me, baby," she whispered as she pulled away for a breath, her hand still pumping him steadily. "Tell me you want to see it. Tell me you want to watch me... being fucked by another man while you fuck me too."
His eyes were dark now, filled with lust, confusion, and the undeniable arousal that her words had ignited. He moaned, head thrown back against the pillow, his body surrendering to the fantasy she was weaving, unable to resist the dirty images flooding his mind.
Jieun grinned, knowing she had him on the edge. She lowered her mouth to his cock again, this time taking him deeper, faster, her throat tightening around him as she pushed him closer to the edge.
"Think about it," she murmured between strokes, her hand slick with saliva and pre-cum. "Me... with both of you... your cock in my mouth, another inside me... filling me, stretching me. You’d love it, wouldn’t you?"
Jongsuk gasped, his hips jerking up, his cock twitching in her mouth. She could feel how close he was, how much he wanted to explode at the thought.
Jongsuk's body trembled as he spilled into Jieun's mouth, his cock pulsing with the intensity of his release. She didn't slow down, not even when he filled her throat, swallowing every last drop like the filthy dream she had painted for him. His grip loosened on her hair, the afterglow hitting him in waves, his breath heavy, chest rising and falling as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. Her words still echoed in his mind—his girlfriend, his sweet Jieun, begging for another man to join them. It was outrageous, insane even. But the way she had worked him, the way she had crafted that fantasy, he couldn't deny the pull.
She lifted her head, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "So... what do you think?" she asked, voice low and teasing, as though she hadn't just reduced him to a quivering mess with her mouth alone.
Jongsuk blinked, still caught between disbelief and the primal urge she had stirred within him. His cock twitched in her hand, though he was spent, and the truth slipped out before he had a chance to overthink it. "Okay," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "We can try it."
Jieun's smile widened, her hand giving him one last lazy stroke as she crawled up beside him. "You won’t regret it," she whispered into his ear, lips brushing his jaw. But she could see the hesitation lingering in his eyes, the subtle fear that maybe this would change everything, that maybe he wasn’t enough for her anymore.
To reassure him, Jieun slid a hand up his chest, her touch gentle now, comforting. "You get to decide," she whispered, her voice softer, less demanding now. "Whoever it is, you choose. I’m yours, Jongsuk. I don’t want anyone but who you trust. This isn’t about someone else. This is about us. I just... want something new with you."
That was all it took. His unease faded slightly at her words, realizing she hadn’t been planning on running off with some random guy, that this was something they could do together. That she wanted him in it completely. It made the idea less threatening and more... intriguing. The control rested in his hands now.
Days passed as Jongsuk mulled over her offer, each time feeling a strange mixture of excitement and uncertainty. The fantasy Jieun had painted played over and over in his mind. He finally decided on someone—Minho, a longtime friend, someone he trusted. They hadn’t been best friends, but Minho had always been respectful, someone Jongsuk could rely on, and most importantly, someone who could keep a secret.
When Jongsuk brought up the idea, Minho had hesitated at first, unsure if Jongsuk was joking, but when the seriousness became clear, his interest piqued. They talked about it, laying everything out in the open—boundaries, expectations.
To ease the awkwardness, they invited Minho out for dinner with Jieun. What started as a casual dinner soon turned into something that felt... surprisingly natural. Minho had always been good at making people feel comfortable, and before long, the evening felt more like a strange but thrilling trio date. Jieun laughed at his jokes, Jongsuk found himself loosening up, and by the end of the night, they were all smiling, slightly buzzed from the drinks and the weight of what they had agreed to do hanging in the air between them.
The night finally arrived.
Jieun had rented a suite at a luxurious hotel, wanting to create the perfect setting for what would be their first time together in such a way. She stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom, adjusting the white lingerie she had picked out, something delicate and daring, something that made her look innocent and filthy at the same time.
The lacey pattern around the cups was semi-transparent, giving just enough of a peek at her breasts beneath, nipples hard from anticipation and the slight chill in the room. The thong barely covered anything at all, only a sliver of fabric shielding her pussy, with a tiny white ribbon at the top of her mound, making her look like a present waiting to be unwrapped. Her long, wavy dark brown hair cascaded down her back, reaching the bottom of her spine, adding to the soft allure of her appearance.
When Jongsuk and Minho entered the room, she turned to face them, biting her lower lip, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. Jongsuk’s eyes widened immediately, his breath catching in his throat as he took her in. The white lace clung to her body in all the right places, accentuating her slender frame, her perky breasts pressing against the thin fabric. His mouth went dry as he stared, his mind struggling to process how fucking perfect she looked, innocent and sinful all at once.
Minho’s reaction was just as visceral. His eyes raked over her body, lingering on the way the lace barely concealed her breasts, how her nipples pressed against the fabric, visible but teasing. His gaze dropped lower, tracing the delicate curve of her hips and the thong that disappeared between her thighs. He let out a soft, appreciative breath, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“Wow,” Minho said, voice low, full of awe and hunger. “You look… incredible.”
Jieun smiled coyly, shifting her weight slightly, her body language deliberately sensual, her every movement calculated to draw their eyes to different parts of her. “You like it?” she asked, voice sweet but laced with seduction.
Jongsuk stepped closer, his eyes never leaving her body, his hand reaching out to brush against the delicate lace covering her breasts. He swallowed hard, his fingers trembling slightly. “You’re… perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
Minho, still watching from a few steps away, nodded slowly, his eyes dark with lust. "Definitely more than I imagined," he added, voice rough with want. His gaze flicked between Jieun and Jongsuk, as if confirming this was real, that they were all really here, about to cross that line.
Jieun’s heart raced as she watched their reactions, feeling the heat rising between the three of them, the tension so thick it was nearly palpable. She could feel the slick wetness pooling between her thighs, the thought of what was about to happen sending jolts of excitement through her.
Slowly, she turned, giving them both a view of her back, her ass framed perfectly by the thong, the lace hugging the soft curve of her hips. She glanced over her shoulder, locking eyes with Jongsuk, then Minho, her lips curling into a playful, knowing smile.
“Well,” she said softly, her voice teasing. “Are you two just going to stand there... or are we going to start?”
The air in the suite was thick with tension, a palpable heat that seemed to settle in Jieun's chest, swirling through her veins and flooding her senses. She stood between Jongsuk and Minho, feeling their hungry eyes on her body, the white lingerie clinging to her in a way that made her feel both exposed and powerful. They were eager, she could feel it—their desire practically radiated off them in waves, and for a brief moment, Jieun relished the way she commanded their attention, how she was the center of this shared fantasy.
Jongsuk’s eyes were dark, locked onto hers, and Minho was no different, his lips slightly parted, gaze lingering on her breasts barely covered by the delicate lace. The two men had been so focused on her that it hadn’t even occurred to them that they were still fully dressed.
Jieun chuckled softly, the sound low and teasing as she tilted her head, looking between them. “Mm, you boys are still wearing too much,” she said, her voice dripping with seduction. She gave them both a playful smile, her fingers brushing over her own body for emphasis. “I don’t want either of you wearing anything tonight.” The idea of them stripping down, baring themselves for her, made her pulse quicken.
Jongsuk smirked, glancing at Minho before they both started to undress, peeling off their clothes piece by piece. Jieun watched with anticipation, biting her lower lip as they revealed themselves to her. It was strange, watching Minho undress, someone who wasn’t her boyfriend, but the excitement bubbling inside her was undeniable.
Once they were fully naked, Jieun’s eyes flicked between them, drinking in the sight of their bodies, her breath hitching slightly at how hard both of them already were. Two cocks, stiff and eager, ready for her. The sight sent a thrill down her spine, a mix of curiosity and satisfaction blooming in her chest. Was this what she needed? Was this the key to quenching that gnawing hunger inside her?
She didn’t have much time to linger on the thought as she reached out, taking both men by the forearms, guiding them closer to her. “Come here,” she whispered, her voice soft but full of command, pulling them in. When they were close enough, she took each of their hands and guided them to her body, encouraging them to touch her, feel her.
Their hands roamed over her curves, tentative at first but quickly becoming bolder as they explored the softness of her skin, the shape of her waist, the swell of her breasts beneath the lace. Jieun closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself get lost in their touch, feeling how their fingers gripped her, the mix of Jongsuk’s familiar touch and Minho’s new, electrifying presence setting her nerves on fire.
She opened her eyes, turning her gaze up to Jongsuk first, her lips curving into a smile before she leaned in and kissed him, their mouths meeting in a deep, needy kiss. His tongue slid against hers, a familiar heat, but the sensation of another man’s hands on her body while she kissed her boyfriend sent a fresh wave of excitement through her. Jongsuk’s hands squeezed her waist possessively, pulling her closer as they made out, but Jieun pulled away just enough to turn her head, catching Minho’s lips next.
Making out with Minho was a different kind of thrill—his kiss was rougher, more urgent, and his hands on her body felt almost foreign, in the best way. She moaned softly into his mouth, one of her hands slipping up into his hair, pulling him closer as Jongsuk’s hands continued to roam her body, sliding over her ass, gripping her thighs.
Both men were touching her now, groping her, hands moving over her breasts, her hips, her ass, exploring every inch they could reach. It was overwhelming in the most delicious way, their eager hands sending jolts of pleasure through her as they caressed and squeezed her, fingers brushing the lace of her thong, teasing the sensitive skin beneath.
Jieun pulled back, a playful smirk curling on her lips as she glanced down at their bodies, both of their cocks hard and throbbing, inches from her. “Looks like you’re both pretty worked up already,” she said, her voice low, teasing as she looked between them.
She reached down, her small hands wrapping around each of their cocks, feeling them twitch under her touch, hot and heavy in her palms. “Mm, I wonder which one of you is going to last the longest…” she mused, her voice a playful purr as she began to stroke them both, her hands moving slowly, deliberately, enjoying the way their bodies reacted to her touch.
Jongsuk groaned softly, his hips bucking slightly into her hand, while Minho let out a low growl, his grip on her waist tightening as he stared down at her, lust darkening his gaze. The weight of their cocks in her hands, the power she had over both of them in this moment, sent a thrill straight to her core, wetness already pooling between her legs, soaking the thin lace of her thong.
As she continued to jerk them off, she leaned in to kiss Jongsuk again, her tongue sliding against his, while her hand stroked his cock, slow and steady. After a moment, she pulled away from him, turning to Minho, kissing him with the same intensity, her other hand working his cock just as skillfully.
The whole time, their hands were on her, worshipping her body, squeezing, groping, sliding over her breasts, her ass, her thighs. It was intoxicating, feeling both of them wanting her so desperately, their bodies reacting to her touch, their cocks throbbing in her hands.
But as much as their eagerness excited her, there was a question lingering in the back of her mind—Is this it? Is this what I need to finally feel satisfied?
Her body was buzzing with anticipation, with lust, with the thrill of having two men at her mercy, but deep down, she still wondered if this was what would finally quench that nagging, unfulfilled desire that had been plaguing her for so long. Could this really be the answer?
Jieun's heart pounded in her chest, the thrill of what she was about to do overwhelming her senses. Her hands still wrapped around their cocks, she slowly sank down to her knees, the plush carpet soft beneath her as she came face-to-face with both men’s stiff lengths. Jongsuk's cock, familiar and loved, stood beside Minho's, another man’s erection staring back at her, making her pulse quicken with a mix of excitement and curiosity. The two cocks were of average size, nothing monstrous, but the act itself—the shared intimacy between them—made everything feel larger than life.
She glanced up at Jongsuk first, locking eyes with him, a playful glint in her gaze as she leaned in, her warm breath ghosting over the head of his cock. Her tongue darted out, swirling around the sensitive tip, tasting the salty drop of pre-cum that had already formed. He groaned, his hips twitching at her touch, and she smiled around his cock, savoring the control she had over him. This was her boyfriend, the man she loved, and here she was, kneeling before him, giving herself to this wild fantasy she had spun between them.
But she wasn’t done yet. Turning her head slightly, she shifted to Minho’s cock, giving him the same attention she had just given Jongsuk. Her tongue dragged along his length, starting from the base and moving slowly, deliberately, all the way to the tip. Minho’s breath hitched, his cock twitching in her hand as she reached the tip, giving it a soft, teasing kiss before pulling away. She could hear his low, guttural groan, and it sent a shiver of satisfaction through her.
She turned her attention back to Jongsuk, giving his cock another slow, deliberate swirl of her tongue around the head. This time, she kept her eyes locked on his, watching his reaction, knowing exactly what she was doing to him. “You like that, baby?” she purred softly, her voice teasing, dripping with seduction. “Does it feel good watching me like this... sharing me with him?”
Jongsuk let out a shaky breath, his hand instinctively moving to her hair, gripping it gently as he stared down at her. “Fuck, Jieun... yes,” he breathed, his voice thick with lust. There was no hesitation in his answer now, no trace of doubt. He wanted this just as much as she did.
With that, Jieun took him fully into her mouth, her lips stretching around his length, sliding down until the head of his cock pressed against the back of her throat. She moaned softly around him, the sound vibrating against his shaft, sending another shiver down his spine. Her hand moved to Minho’s cock, pumping him slowly, steadily, as she sucked Jongsuk deeper into her wet, warm mouth.
Her mind buzzed with pleasure, the thrill of having both of them here, of tasting them both, overwhelming her. Maybe this really is what I needed, she thought as she moved her head up and down, sucking her boyfriend’s cock with practiced skill. She could feel her pussy throbbing, wetness pooling between her thighs, and the heat rising in her core. The excitement of having two men watching her, both of them hard and eager for her, was electric. Maybe this is what will finally satisfy me.
Once she had Jongsuk’s cock sufficiently slick with her saliva, she turned her attention back to Minho, switching effortlessly as she took him into her mouth next. Her hand returned to Jongsuk’s cock, stroking him with the same steady rhythm she had used on Minho before. Minho groaned deeply as her lips wrapped around him, her tongue swirling around his shaft just as she had done with Jongsuk. His fingers tangled in her hair, not rough but firm, guiding her just enough to let her know how much he wanted it.
She alternated between them, sucking one while jerking off the other, her movements fluid, confident, her body fully immersed in the pleasure of pleasing them both. Every time she switched, she could feel their reactions—Jongsuk’s sharp inhalations, Minho’s quiet growls—and it fueled her, pushing her deeper into the headspace she craved. Yes, this is what I needed. This is what I’ve been missing.
Her hands worked them both, her lips gliding over each cock, wet and eager, tasting them, savoring the way they responded to her touch. The room filled with the slick sounds of her mouth, the soft gasps and groans of the men as she worshipped their cocks, alternating between them as if she were trying to outdo herself with each turn.
At one point, Jieun got an idea, a flash of inspiration that made her heart race. She lowered her face just a little, placing herself beneath both of their cocks, letting their swollen heads rest just above her lips. She stuck her tongue out, letting it flicker between the two, teasing the sensitive tips of both cocks at once. Their reactions were immediate—Jongsuk let out a low moan, his grip tightening in her hair, while Minho groaned deeply, his fingers brushing the side of her cheek as he watched her with wide, lust-filled eyes.
She swirled her tongue between them, her eyes half-lidded, enjoying the way their cocks pulsed and twitched in response to her teasing. She kissed the head of Jongsuk’s cock, then Minho’s, her lips leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all over both of them. The sight of her, on her knees, with two hard cocks hanging over her, her lips and tongue working both of them, was enough to send any man into a frenzy, and she could feel their restraint slipping, the way their hips moved involuntarily toward her, begging for more.
This is it, she thought again, a rush of heat coursing through her body as she continued her slutty display. This is what I needed all along. The power, the control, the attention of two men completely devoted to her pleasure—it was intoxicating. She could feel the satisfaction building, the knot of desire deep inside her starting to unravel. This is what will make me feel whole again.
Jieun’s moans became louder, more desperate as she continued to alternate between them, sucking one cock while stroking the other, then switching, her mouth wet and warm around them both. The way they responded to her, the way they moaned her name, only fueled her more. This was what she had been craving, this overwhelming sensation of being desired, of being shared, of having two men completely lost in her.
Jieun could feel the power thrumming through her body as she released their cocks with a loud, wet pop, their tips glistening from her mouth. She grinned, her eyes flicking up at the two men as she gave each of their throbbing heads a teasing kiss, her lips lingering just enough to drive them crazy. Jongsuk's cock twitched at her touch, and Minho groaned, his jaw clenched as he fought the urge to thrust into her mouth again. They were both on the verge of losing control, their bodies aching for release, but Jieun wasn’t done playing with them yet.
"Come here," she purred, rising gracefully to her feet, her hands immediately wrapping around their shafts again. She tugged them both toward the bed, leading them by their cocks as if they were nothing more than her obedient toys. The way their hips jerked in response to her every pull sent a thrill straight to her core, and she knew she had them exactly where she wanted them.
Once she reached the bed, Jieun let go of their cocks again, watching as they stood there, eyes glazed over with pure lust, waiting for her next move. She climbed onto the mattress slowly, deliberately, her every movement slow and sensual, giving them a perfect view of her body as she crawled to the center of the king-sized bed. Her ass swayed with every step, the thin strip of lace barely covering her as she got on all fours, her body stretched out like an offering.
She paused in the middle of the bed, arching her back, making sure her ass was fully on display for them. Jieun glanced back over her shoulder, her dark hair cascading over one side as she gave them a smoldering look, the fire in her eyes practically daring them to touch her. "Look at how hard you both are for me," she teased, her voice thick with arousal. "Stroke your cocks for me. I want to see you both jerk off while you watch me."
Jongsuk and Minho didn’t need to be told twice. Their hands wrapped around their cocks, stroking slowly at first, their eyes locked onto Jieun’s perfect ass as she wiggled it for them, the lace thong doing nothing to hide the curves of her body. The sound of their labored breathing filled the room, and Jieun smiled, biting her lower lip as she watched them struggle to contain themselves.
She lowered her upper body onto the bed, her chest pressing against the sheets, arching her back even more to push her ass higher into the air. Her hands slid back, caressing her own ass before smacking it lightly, the sound of her hand slapping her flesh making both men groan, their strokes quickening involuntarily. "Mm, you like that?" she cooed, her fingers playing with the waistband of her thong, tugging it down slightly before letting it snap back into place. "I bet you want to fuck me so bad right now... but you have to be patient."
They groaned in unison, their eyes locked on her every movement, their hands jerking their cocks faster. But Jieun wasn’t done teasing them yet. She smacked her ass again, harder this time, making it jiggle just enough to drive them wild. "Slow down," she commanded softly, a playful edge in her voice. "You’ll do exactly what I say, or else you won’t get a taste of this tonight."
Jongsuk’s breath hitched, and Minho let out a frustrated grunt, but they both obeyed, slowing their hands despite the obvious struggle. Jieun smirked, pleased with their obedience, and finally slid her thong down, peeling the delicate fabric from her ass and thighs, revealing her bare skin. The tiny strip of lace slipped over her knees and onto the bed, leaving her completely exposed save for the garter and stockings still adorning her legs.
She tossed the thong toward them, and Minho caught it easily, immediately bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply, his eyes fluttering shut as the scent of her arousal filled his senses. His cock jerked in his hand, and without missing a beat, he wrapped the thong around his length, using it to jerk himself off as he stroked faster. "Fuck, Jieun," Minho growled, his voice thick with need, his eyes locked on her dripping pussy.
Jieun grinned, loving how wild she was making them both. "You like that, don’t you? Fighting over me... stroking yourselves like you’re desperate for me." She glanced at Jongsuk, her boyfriend’s eyes dark with lust as his hand worked his cock faster, his gaze fixated on her bare ass, on her slick, wet pussy that glistened between her thighs. "You’ve both got me so wet," she moaned, spreading her ass cheeks wide with both hands, showing them everything—her tight, puckered asshole, her soaked cunt, all of it on display just for them.
The two men groaned loudly, their strokes becoming erratic as they watched her tease them, her fingers spreading herself open, her voice sweet and filthy as she told them how turned on they were making her. Minho was stroking his cock with her thong still wrapped around it, his face twisted in pleasure, while Jongsuk’s eyes were glued to the sight of her spread wide, his hand moving faster and faster.
Jieun could tell they were close, their bodies tensing, their breath coming in ragged gasps, and it made her pulse race even more. She decided to push them just a little further, to make this a game, something to heighten the intensity of the moment.
"Mm, you’re both about to cum, aren’t you?" she teased, her voice low and sultry. "But here’s the thing..." She flipped onto her back, her legs spread wide, her pussy glistening and ready as she leaned back against a pillow, looking up at them with a wicked smile. "The last one to cum gets to fuck me first. So, if you want to be the one inside me... you better hold it in."
Jongsuk’s eyes widened, and Minho groaned, their hands hesitating for just a moment as they processed her words. But the sight of her, lying there with her legs spread, her fingers dipping down to rub her wet pussy right in front of them, was too much to handle. She started to play with herself, her fingers sliding over her swollen clit, her hips lifting off the bed as she moaned softly. "Come on, baby," she whispered, looking at Jongsuk, then Minho. "Who’s going to cum for me first? Don’t you want to fuck me? Don’t you want to be the one to feel how wet I am?"
Her dirty words, her slick fingers rubbing her pussy, the way her body writhed on the bed—it was pushing them both to the brink. Their hands were a blur, their cocks jerking furiously as they watched her play with herself, their eyes glued to the sight of her wetness, to the way she teased them with every moan, every soft gasp.
Minho’s hand tightened around his cock, the thong still wrapped around it as he stroked faster, his eyes locked on her pussy. He was close—so close he could feel the orgasm building in his core, ready to explode at any moment.
But Jongsuk wasn’t far behind, his body trembling as he fought to hold back, his eyes fixed on Jieun’s face, her lips parted in pleasure as she rubbed herself faster, teasing him, making him want to cum so badly but knowing he had to hold on if he wanted to be the first to fuck her.
"Who’s going to give in?" she purred, her voice a soft taunt as she arched her back, her fingers dipping lower, sliding over her slick folds as she moaned louder. "Come on, boys... I want to see you lose control for me."
Minho's body tensed, his strokes becoming erratic, and before he could stop himself, he came. Thick spurts of cum splattered across the carpet, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his body shuddered with release. He cursed under his breath, knowing he had lost, but the sight of Jieun still on her knees, watching him with that teasing smile on her lips, made it all the more frustrating.
“Aww, too bad, Minho,” Jieun cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy, her finger playfully curling toward Jongsuk. “Looks like you’re not the lucky one tonight.” She bit her lip as she turned her attention fully to her boyfriend. “Come here, baby.”
Jongsuk stepped forward, his cock throbbing with the anticipation of finally being the one to take her. But Jieun had other plans. She got back on all fours, her body curving sensually as she wrapped her hand around Jongsuk’s cock. Slowly, she began stroking him, her grip firm and teasing as she gazed up at him with dark, hooded eyes.
“You've been so good, holding back for me,” she whispered before leaning in, her tongue flicking out to trace the head of his cock. Jongsuk groaned, his hips jerking involuntarily, but Jieun was in full control now. She swirled her tongue around him, her lips wrapping around his swollen head before she took him deeper into her mouth.
Her tongue danced along his length, her hand stroking him in rhythm with her mouth. Jongsuk’s hand found her hair, his fingers tightening in her dark locks as he watched her worship his cock. Jieun’s wet, warm mouth moved over him, her tongue swirling, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him with fervor. She looked up at him the whole time, her eyes gleaming, filled with that insatiable hunger.
It didn’t take long for Jongsuk to reach the edge, his hips bucking into her mouth as his cock twitched violently. With a choked moan, he came, thick ropes of cum spilling into Jieun’s mouth. She moaned softly around him, taking every drop, her tongue swirling lazily around his cock as he came down from his high. She kissed the tip of his cock one last time, licking him clean, her lips and tongue savoring every inch of him before she pulled away, her smile mischievous as she looked up at him.
She kissed the head of his cock, leaving his shaft glistening and spotless. Jongsuk shuddered, collapsing onto the nearby chair, his chest heaving, but before he could recover fully, Jieun gave him a playful look.
“Do you want to fuck me right away, or would you like a little break?” she asked, voice still sweet, but there was a hint of challenge in it, a test.
Jongsuk, still catching his breath, felt a pang of guilt as he leaned back. “I think… I might need a moment,” he admitted. Disappointing, Jieun thought, though she kept her expression soft and understanding. She simply nodded and smiled, hiding the tiny flicker of frustration. She wanted more, needed more. But Jongsuk was always a little slower to catch up to her desires.
As he settled into the chair, Minho, not one to miss an opportunity, stepped forward. “I can help,” he said, his voice eager, his cock still half-hard despite his recent release. Jieun raised an eyebrow at him, thinking he might try to claim what he had lost by coming first. But she wasn’t going to let him off that easy.
“Help, huh?” Jieun smirked, glancing over at Jongsuk before turning back to Minho. “Alright... but you’re not fucking me yet. You’ll be eating me out while Jongsuk watches.” Her tone was authoritative, leaving no room for argument. Minho didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees, already eager to please her.
Jieun positioned herself on the edge of the bed, spreading her legs wide, her pussy glistening with a mixture of her own arousal and anticipation. “Go ahead,” she purred, running her fingers lightly over her clit, teasing herself just enough to get him started. Minho leaned in, wasting no time, his mouth immediately latching onto her wet folds. His tongue was eager, swirling around her swollen clit, then dipping down to taste her slick entrance.
Minho’s mouth worked feverishly, licking, sucking, devouring her like he was starved for it. His tongue flicked against her clit with precision, then trailed down, plunging into her tight cunt, fucking her with his mouth in a desperate attempt to make her cum. Jieun threw her head back, her hands tangling in his hair as her hips bucked against his face. The pleasure was sharp, intense, and she could feel the knot in her core tightening with every stroke of his tongue.
She glanced over at Jongsuk, who was watching them from the chair, his cock already hardening again as he stroked himself slowly, eyes wide with fascination. Seeing him aroused by this only made Jieun’s pleasure climb higher, the idea of being watched as she was pleasured sending shivers down her spine. Minho wasn’t just preparing her for Jongsuk—he was trying to make her cum, trying to win her over completely.
And it worked.
Jieun’s breath hitched, her thighs trembling as Minho’s relentless tongue pushed her over the edge. Her orgasm hit her hard, her pussy clenching around nothing as waves of pleasure crashed through her body. She let out a low, guttural moan, her hips jerking against Minho’s face as she rode the high of her release.
“Fuck,” she gasped, pushing Minho’s head away, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “That was... good.” She smiled, her body still tingling, but there was no time to rest. She needed more. Her body was burning for it.
Turning her gaze to Jongsuk, she crooked her finger, beckoning him over. “Come here,” she commanded softly, her voice thick with need. “I can’t wait any longer.”
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Jongsuk stood, his cock fully hard again from watching them, his earlier hesitation melting away. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself over Jieun, their bodies aligning in a familiar but now electrifying way. He settled between her legs, his cock pressing against her slick entrance, the wetness of her pussy mixed with Minho’s saliva making the glide easy.
Jieun wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a deep kiss, their tongues tangling as she ground her pussy against him, her slick folds coating his cock in her arousal. “Put it in,” she whispered against his lips, her voice heavy with desire. “I need you to fuck me, Jongsuk.”
He obliged, pushing into her slowly, but Jieun was impatient now. She needed to be fucked, needed to be filled, and the slow pace wasn’t cutting it. “Faster,” she gasped, her nails digging into his back. “Fuck me harder, baby.”
Jongsuk’s pace quickened, his hips slamming into her as he fucked her harder, his cock filling her over and over again. But Jieun needed more, craved more, and no matter how fast he went, it wasn’t enough. “More,” she moaned, her voice needy, desperate. “Harder.”
The intensity of her need caught him off guard. Jongsuk had never seen her like this, so ravenous, so demanding. He tried to keep up, pounding into her, but he was already close, the overwhelming sensation of her wet pussy gripping him making it impossible to hold on. “I’m gonna... I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his body tensing, hips losing rhythm.
“Stop,” Jieun commanded breathlessly, her voice sharp. She pushed him off, her hands firm against his chest. “I’m not done yet.”
Jongsuk blinked in surprise, but before he could protest, Jieun turned her head toward Minho. “Come here,” she ordered, her eyes blazing with lust. “You’re going to fuck me now... and you better not cum right away.”
Minho, still stroking his cock, stood immediately. His eyes flashed with excitement, eager to finally get his chance. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself behind Jieun as she arched her back, her ass lifting invitingly toward him. Jongsuk, still catching his breath, watched from the side, trying to make sense of his emotions. There was a part of him that stung with rejection, but another, deeper part of him... was fascinated. Turned on even, as he watched Minho grip Jieun’s hips and line himself up with her dripping wet pussy.
When Minho finally thrust into her, Jieun cried out, her voice high-pitched and raw with pleasure. “Yes!” she screamed, her body jolting forward as Minho buried himself inside her. He fucked her with a ferocity that Jongsuk hadn’t managed, his hips slamming into her harder and faster with every thrust, just like she had begged for.
Jongsuk watched, his eyes wide, his hand unconsciously moving to stroke his cock again. The sight of Minho drilling into Jieun, the way her body arched, the way she moaned and gasped, the sound of skin slapping against skin—it all fascinated him. What intrigued him even more was how hard he was getting just watching the two of them.
Minho’s thrusts became uneven, his hips faltering as he tried to keep up with Jieun’s increasingly desperate demands. Despite his best efforts, even his eager pace wasn’t enough for her, and Jieun could feel her dissatisfaction creeping back in, the same gnawing emptiness that had haunted her nights with Jongsuk. She needed more—something deeper, something wilder, something that would finally fill the void inside her.
It hit her then: she wanted both of them, inside her at the same time. That was the only way she could get closer to the satisfaction she was chasing. She had been on edge all night, but the idea of being fucked in both her pussy and ass at once sparked a new heat, a new kind of lust that she knew would finally push her closer to what she needed.
“Stop,” she gasped, pushing Minho off of her, her body shuddering from the effort of holding back her frustrations. “Get off, I want to change positions.”
Minho, panting and confused, immediately withdrew, his cock slick with her juices as he sat back on his heels. Jieun wasted no time, rolling over and getting onto all fours again, her eyes flashing with intensity as she pointed at Jongsuk, then gestured for him to take his place behind her. She was done playing. She wanted this—needed this.
“Jongsuk,” she breathed, her voice dripping with command, “I want you to fuck me from behind.” Then, she pointed at Minho, her lips curling into a sultry smile. “And you, come up here... I want your cock in my throat.”
Jongsuk’s eyes gleamed as he moved into position behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he lined himself up with her dripping pussy. Without hesitation, he slid his cock back inside her, and she moaned softly, her body arching with the familiar sensation. But this time, it was different. This time, her mind was already locked onto what was coming next.
As Jongsuk began to thrust into her from behind, his hips slamming into her ass with the sound of skin smacking against skin, Jieun turned her head toward Minho. Her eyes were glazed over with lust, her lips parted as she watched him approach. He was already hard again, his cock twitching in his hand as he stood before her. With a slow, deliberate movement, she opened her mouth and guided him inside, her lips wrapping around his shaft with a practiced ease.
Jongsuk groaned, his grip on her hips tightening as he pounded into her from behind, his cock driving into her slick pussy harder and faster. Her peachy ass bounced with each thrust, the impact sending ripples through her body. He smacked her ass once, twice, watching the way it jiggled under his hand before gripping it firmly, pulling her back onto his cock with every thrust.
Meanwhile, Jieun’s lips were wrapped around Minho’s cock, her eyes locked onto his as she took him deeper into her throat. The sounds of her squelching throat filled the room, wet with drool as she worked him with her mouth. Impressively, she didn’t gag—there was no challenge for her, even as he pushed deeper into her throat. She could take him, and she did, her throat relaxing around his shaft as her head bobbed back and forth, keeping rhythm with Jongsuk’s thrusts from behind.
The two men were groaning, lost in the heat of the moment. Minho’s hands tangled in her hair as he gently guided her movements, his hips bucking slightly as he fucked her throat. Jongsuk was grunting, his cock slamming into her with reckless abandon, the wet sounds of her pussy filling the room. Jieun was aware of how turned on they were, how much they were enjoying themselves, and she kept up the act, moaning around Minho’s cock, her body writhing beneath Jongsuk’s hands as if she were getting closer to the edge.
But the truth was, she still wasn’t there. Not yet.
That gnawing hunger for more clawed at her, and she knew exactly what she needed now. She pulled back from Minho’s cock with a gasp, her lips wet with spit as she looked up at him, her eyes flashing with a new kind of intensity. “I want you both,” she said, her voice low, sultry. “I want you in my pussy and my ass at the same time.”
Minho groaned, looking down at her with wide eyes, clearly eager to fulfill her request. Jongsuk paused for a moment, his hands still gripping her hips as he processed what she was asking for. But he didn’t hesitate. “Alright,” Jongsuk said, breathless, pulling out of her slowly.
Jieun shifted, rolling onto her back for a moment before sliding onto Minho’s lap. She straddled him, positioning herself over his cock, her wet pussy already slick and ready as she lowered herself onto him. Minho groaned as she sank down onto him, his hands immediately moving to her hips as she began to ride him.
But Jieun wasn’t done yet. She glanced back at Jongsuk, who was already reaching for the lube on the nightstand. He spread the slippery gel over his cock, then lubed up his fingers, gently rubbing the slick substance around the tight entrance of her ass. Jieun shivered at the sensation, her breath hitching as she felt his fingers slip inside, preparing her for what was to come.
When she was ready, Jongsuk positioned himself behind her, his cock pressing against the tight, lubed entrance of her ass. Slowly, he pushed forward, the pressure building as his cock slid inside her inch by inch. Jieun moaned, her body tensing for a moment before she relaxed, allowing him to stretch her ass open, filling her completely.
For the first time that night, she felt it. That fullness. That overwhelming sensation of being filled in both her pussy and ass at the same time. It was exactly what she had been craving, and a low, guttural moan escaped her lips as she settled into the sensation, her body shuddering with the intensity of it.
“Fuck,” she gasped, her voice breathless as she looked between the two men. “Start moving. I want you both to fuck me... like the dirty slut I am.”
Jongsuk didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands gripped her hips tightly as he began to thrust into her ass, his cock sliding in and out of her with slow, deliberate strokes at first. Meanwhile, Minho started moving beneath her, his cock thrusting up into her pussy as he gripped her waist, the two men finding a rhythm as they fucked her in unison.
Jieun’s body rocked between them, her hips grinding down onto Minho’s cock while Jongsuk’s cock filled her ass from behind. She felt the delicious stretch of her ass, the fullness in her pussy, and for the first time that night, she was starting to feel something close to the satisfaction she had been chasing. The sensation of being used by both of them at once, her body caught between two cocks, was exactly what she needed.
“Fuck me,” she moaned, her voice desperate, urging them on. “Fuck me harder... I want you both to use me... treat me like your dirty little slut.”
Jongsuk groaned, his hips slamming into her ass with more force now, his cock driving deeper into her with every thrust. Minho matched his pace, his cock filling her pussy with the same urgency. The sounds of skin slapping against skin, their grunts and groans, filled the room as they fucked her mercilessly, giving her exactly what she had begged for.
Jieun’s head fell back, her mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure as they fucked her from both ends, her body trembling with the sheer intensity of it all. This—this was what she had been craving. This raw, primal need, this feeling of being completely overwhelmed, filled to the brim, fucked by both of them at once. She wasn’t pretending anymore.
Jieun's body was the picture of bliss, her lips parted in moans as Jongsuk and Minho relentlessly pounded into her, filling her from both ends. Her eyes rolled back, her breath ragged, and for a brief moment, she thought she had finally reached it—euphoria. Being stuffed by two men, her holes stretched and used, should have been enough. It felt like it should have been enough. But as the minutes ticked by, and the rhythm of their thrusts became predictable, Jieun’s pleasure slowly, cruelly, began to dull.
She tried to keep the fire alive, pushing herself to find satisfaction, to demand more from them. Her lips parted to speak, to command, "Harder… fuck me harder, do better..." But the words barely escaped her mouth before Minho grunted above her, his voice tight and strained.
"I’m close," he breathed, his thrusts losing their power.
Jongsuk, behind her, echoed the same. "Shit... I’m almost there too..."
Inside, Jieun sighed, feeling the disappointment weigh heavy in her chest. Her pussy clenched instinctively, trying to draw out any last pleasure from them, but it was too late. They were already on the edge, and she knew it was over. She would never get the satisfaction she had been chasing, not tonight. But she couldn’t let them know that.
So she bit down on her frustration and plastered a look of lust across her face, throwing her head back as if she were on the brink of orgasm herself. "Mmm, yes, I’m gonna cum too," she moaned, her voice sultry, playing the part of the satisfied lover to perfection. "But when you cum... pull out. Cum on my face... in my mouth," she panted, giving them the fantasy they were craving.
The two men grunted their assent, their pace quickening as they chased their release. It didn’t take long—Minho was the first to pull out, his cock slick with her juices as he scrambled off the bed, hand furiously jerking his shaft as he stood over her. Jongsuk followed, his cock twitching as he withdrew from her ass, standing next to Minho with the same desperation in his eyes.
Jieun slid off the bed, positioning herself on her knees on the soft carpet, looking up at them with wide, slutty eyes. She opened her mouth, tongue out, her hands squeezing her tits together as the two men jerked their cocks inches from her face.
"Come on," she whispered, her voice low and teasing, "give me your cum. Cover me. Fill my dirty little mouth."
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It was all they needed. Minho was the first to erupt, thick ropes of cum spurting across Jieun’s beautiful face, coating her cheeks, her lips, her chin. She moaned as it splattered onto her skin, licking her lips seductively, making a show of how much she loved being covered in their release. Jongsuk followed almost immediately, his load joining Minho’s, his cock jerking in his hand as he shot his cum into her waiting mouth. Jieun moaned louder, letting the hot, salty liquid pool on her tongue before swallowing it down, opening her mouth to show them the remnants of their pleasure.
"Fuck, yes... such a dirty slut for our cum,” groaned the men. Jieun moaned, her voice thick with arousal as she scooped the stray drops off her face with her fingers, licking them clean like it was the sweetest treat. She glanced up at them, her expression still one of pure lust, even as her mind was already elsewhere, trying to reconcile the empty ache that lingered inside her.
Once they were done, their bodies spent, Jieun made a show of licking their cocks clean, sucking gently on the heads, making sure there wasn’t a drop left. When she finished, she smiled up at them, her face still smeared with their release. "Just wait here," she said sweetly, getting to her feet. "I’ll be right back."
As she walked to the bathroom, Jongsuk and Minho collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted and drained. Jieun glanced at them over her shoulder, her face still a mask of seductive satisfaction. But the moment she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, her expression shifted. She leaned over the toilet, spitting out the cum she had held in her mouth, her stomach twisting in knots. The aftertaste lingered bitterly on her tongue as she flushed it away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
The mirror caught her eye, and she stared at her reflection, her face smeared with cum and her eyes reflecting back confusion and frustration. Two men, she thought bitterly. I had two men, and still... The dull ache of dissatisfaction gnawed at her, a cruel reminder that no matter what she did, no matter how wild the night, it wasn’t enough. It never seemed to be enough.
She turned on the shower, letting the warm water wash away the cum on her skin, her mind racing as the water cascaded over her. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she be satisfied? She scrubbed harder, the water mingling with her frustration as she tried to cleanse herself not just of the night, but of the emptiness that followed her every encounter.
Once she finished, she wrapped a towel around her body and stepped back into the bedroom. Jongsuk was still lying on the bed, his eyes following her as she moved across the room. Minho had already risen and was heading to the bathroom to shower, knowing he wouldn’t be staying the night with the couple.
Jieun smiled sweetly at Jongsuk, climbing into bed next to him. "Did you like it?" he asked, his voice soft, hopeful.
She didn’t hesitate. "Of course," she lied easily, giving him a reassuring smile. "It was amazing, baby." She leaned in, kissing him gently. "Did you?"
"Yeah," he nodded, looking relieved. "It was... really something."
"Good," Jieun whispered, nuzzling against him, hiding the conflict swirling inside her. They snuggled together on the bed, Jongsuk’s arm draped over her waist as he sighed contentedly. But Jieun’s mind was already far away, drifting through the haze of unsatisfied desires.
Minho finished showering, emerging from the bathroom with a smile. "Thanks for tonight," he said, his voice friendly, but tired. "It was... incredible."
The couple thanked him in return, and Jongsuk offered to walk him out, but Minho waved it off. "Nah, man, look after her," he said with a grin, clapping Jongsuk on the shoulder before giving him a quick, friendly handshake. "See you around."
Jieun watched him go, her smile never faltering until the door closed behind him. And then, as silence settled over the room, she leaned back against the pillows, Jongsuk’s arm still around her, her body warm from the shower. But her mind buzzed with one burning question.
Why wasn’t it enough?
Jieun watched as Jongsuk disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the silence left in his wake. As soon as she was alone, she exhaled sharply, biting her bottom lip—not from arousal, but from the growing frustration that had been gnawing at her ever since the threesome had ended. Why hadn’t she felt satisfied? Two men—two cocks—her wildest fantasies lived out right in front of her, and still, that dull ache of emptiness lingered.
She could feel it clawing at the back of her mind, an unresolved hunger that no amount of sex tonight had managed to quell. What’s wrong with me? she thought, her fingers restlessly drumming against the sheets. She couldn’t understand why, after everything, she still felt so hollow inside. But then... a thought bubbled up from the recesses of her mind.
Without fully realizing what she was doing, Jieun reached for her phone, her fingers moving swiftly across the screen. She knew what she was looking for—the video. That certain video. It had been sitting there, teasing her thoughts ever since she’d first stumbled upon it. She quickly found it in his saved videos, and before she could second-guess herself, she pressed play.
Her eyes immediately locked onto the screen, and there they were: two massive, hulking black men, their dark skin gleaming under the lights, their muscles rippling as they towered over the woman between them. Their cocks—fuck, they were enormous, long and thick, stretching the woman’s holes to the absolute limit. The sheer size of them filled the screen, pounding into the woman relentlessly, taking turns fucking her ass and pussy in a way that made Jieun’s breath hitch.
Black men.
She’d watched this video before, but somehow, tonight, the sight of those bulging muscles, that dark, gleaming skin, and those impossibly thick cocks made her pulse quicken in a way that nothing else had. Her thighs pressed together involuntarily as her body responded, her pussy slick with wetness.
Was it not just the threesome that had been missing? Was it them? The size, the intensity, the raw power behind every thrust? As she watched those two men use the woman, filling her up in ways Jieun could only dream of, her fingers instinctively slipped down between her thighs, parting her slick folds as her breath quickened. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen.
The sound of water running in the bathroom faded into the background as Jieun’s fingers circled her clit, her body responding faster than it had all night. She followed the rhythm of the video, the wet slaps of the men’s cocks echoing through the room as they drilled the woman mercilessly. Jieun’s pussy squelched as her fingers worked faster, mirroring the pace of the black men’s thrusts.
Her thoughts became a chant—fuck, fuck, fuck—echoing in her mind as she imagined herself in the woman’s place, stuffed full by two impossibly large cocks, their dark skin pressed against hers, their deep voices groaning in pleasure. The wet, filthy sounds filled the room, and she was so fucking close—closer than she had been all night.
Her fingers moved faster, her hips bucking against her hand as her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling in quick, desperate gasps. Just as the men in the video slammed into the woman one last time, Jieun’s body tensed, her fingers slipping deeper into her wet cunt. She let out a soft, muffled squeal, covering her mouth with her free hand as her body spasmed in release. Her juices gushed out over her fingers as she squirted, her whole body shaking as the orgasm tore through her like a wave crashing against a rocky shore.
Jieun’s mind went blank for a moment, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Her fingers were slick with her own cum, and the phone lay abandoned on the bed, the video still playing in the background. She blinked, dazed, her breath ragged as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. She had just come—harder than she had all night—and it was all from watching that video.
A video of a woman getting fucked by two black men.
Jieun gasped softly, the realization crashing into her with full force. Was that what she wanted all along? Was it not just the idea of a threesome but... them? The size, the dominance, the way those cocks filled the woman completely? Her pulse quickened again at the thought, the wetness between her legs already threatening to return.
Before she could fully process it, she heard the bathroom door open, and Jongsuk emerged with a towel slung low around his waist, his skin still damp from the shower. He was smiling, walking over to her as he rubbed the towel through his hair. "Hey," he said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. But when he saw the look on her face, his smile faltered slightly. "Is something wrong?"
Jieun quickly composed herself, forcing a smile as she shook her head. "No, nothing’s wrong," she lied smoothly, looping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a quick kiss. She kissed him again, more softly this time, before hugging him tightly, her body pressed against his. But as her lips brushed his, she couldn’t stop thinking about those massive black cocks from the video, filling up the woman in ways Jongsuk could never compare to. Her body was already betraying her, the thought alone making her wet again.
They both got ready for bed, slipping under the covers of the king-sized bed they had paid for, Jongsuk snuggling up against her. His arm draped over her waist, pulling her close as he kissed her cheek. "Goodnight, baby," he murmured, his voice low and content.
"Goodnight," Jieun whispered back, forcing another smile as she lay in his arms. But even as his body pressed against hers, warm and familiar, she couldn’t fall asleep. Her mind was buzzing, her thoughts racing. She bit her lip, but this time, it wasn’t out of frustration—it was because the memory of those black cocks filled her head, and with each passing second, the ache between her thighs grew harder to ignore.
Is that what I need? she thought, her pulse quickening once again. Big, thick, black cocks... She pressed her legs together, trying to stave off the rising desire that pulsed through her, but it was no use. Her body was betraying her, and no matter how hard she tried to stop herself, her mind kept wandering back to that video. To the sight of those two men using the woman, stretching her to the limit.
Jongsuk’s soft breathing filled the room as he drifted off to sleep beside her, completely unaware of the turmoil swirling in Jieun’s mind. She lay there, wide awake, biting her lip as the thought of being fucked by men like that consumed her thoughts. The ache between her legs refused to go away, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized—that might be what she needed after all.
But what did that mean for her and Jongsuk?
.
.
.
a/n: hiiii! I haven't released anything in a while. With how busy I got and other things, but I was preparing this project series- yes it's gonna be a series- for a while now and I thought it's high time it should see the light of day haha. well that's all for now. I hope you'd look forward to the next chapters! do like and reblog if you enjoyed it mehehe. oh and i'm always open to constructive criticism so feel free to leave some if you want~
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jambalaya-enthusiast · 1 month ago
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Could you do the crew with a surprisingly aggressive reader? Like if an altercation they tried to de-escalate resulted in them getting hit and reader kinda snaps and punches the dog shit outta the person? On some “don’t you ever touch my man/girl”
HOT STUFF— CREW MEMBERS X HOTHEADED! AGGRESIVE! READER.
warnings: none i think.
synopsis: someone makes not so nice comments and you lose ur crap. crew reactions follow.
CAPTAIN, CURLY
He is literally golden retriever ™
Curly is not an aggressive man by any means, he prefers the pacifist way out in any situation, maintaining peace and harmony.
And you were the complete opposite, always ready to pick a fight if anyone looked at you the wrong way.
Curly always tired to explain how being so hotheaded wasn't gonna be good for your health, you just never listened.
something happened at the pony express meeting room and a co-worker remarked something to curly in a tone you weren't quite fond of.
And the next thing anyone knew, you were beating the living crap out of the fella. Everyone just watched on in shock as nobody dared to stop you.
Curly came in and immediately grabbed you in his grasp, not letting you go. He was surprised as to how difficult it was to restraint you.
"y/n you really ought to stop putting yourself in such situations, not everyone has to agree with everything i say. i can't always pull you out of fires, you know that right?".
He knows that you're not the one to learn, so makes sure to keep an eye out on you more.
Thinks it's kinda endearing that you care that much about him.
He asks to join him in the gym for weightlifting. :D
CO-PILOT,JIMMY
Even though jimmy isn't the most pleasant person to be around, he too isn't too fond of altercations and confrontations.
He prefers to always safe side his way out of everything, just making sure his peace isn't compromised.
That is until you came along, always ready to hand a person their ass for saying something wrong at the wrong time.
He wouldn't admit it, but it was quite amusing to him seeing you always ready to fight someone head-on.
He was just annoyed at the consequences which followed after.
Like at the local bar where you guys were out drinking, some girl tried to approach jimmy in the wrong way and welp.
Suddenly her makeup was off and was instead replaced with a black and eye and several bruises. The police had to be called and it was a whole ass thing.
Although jimmy scolded you for being so ill-tempered, he was smiling beneath all that, that you would go to such lengths for him.
Just stop getting your ass pulled into such idiotic situations, aight? It's annoying having to visit the station all the time.
kinda proud.
NURSE, ANYA
Anya is in the medical field, empathy and level headedness is one of her strong pursuits.
She is a pacifist, like curly she prefers to deal with things in a peaceful manner.
Plus, she personally does not like arguments or fights, at all. She herself is quite timid in nature.
After knowing you, she always reminded you to keep your cool and maybe read self help books to help you control your anger.
You guys were out on a date at the park,and a fuckass decided to catcall anya, right in front of you.
Next thing everyone in the park was witnessing was the guy laying face down with some of his teeth knocked out.
While anya was glad, that you looked out for her to such an extent, she did still believe such levels of anger weren't healthy for the body and mind.
So she signed you up for anger management classes.
" y/n I'm doing this for your own sake, who knows when something drastic might happen, please do this? For me?".
Also started making you attend the meditation classes she goes to.
MECHANIC, SWANSEA
Swansea is literally too old to deal with people by beating them up.
He's just way too tired to deal with stuff like this.
Prefers to just leaving things as is, and being "whatever helps you sleep at night". If anyone pisses him off.
Prefers peace and quiet.
So you were, infact a pain in the ass for him.
He was always yelling at you to keep it together or atleast try to get a grip on yourself whenever you feel like losing your shit.
During a maintenance meeting some young lad decided to tell Swansea 'let us handle this one yeah, old man?' and his tone definitely indicated that he didn't mean it with a friendly intent.
Swansea was just gonna let it go, i mean he was infact getting old, he couldn't help it.
But what he didn't expect was you jumping out of your seat and grabbing this dude by his collar and throwing him out of the room like a freaking ragdoll.
Shocked™ what the actual fuck? Why would you beat up a guy, for his sake?
"kid i don't know what was going on in that head of yours beating that guy up like that, but okay."
will die before admitting it, but he was touched seeing you so upset that someone was being unkind to him.
Doesn't scold you.
INTERN, DAISUKE
Daisuke is young and dandy, he is new the buisness and stuff and just wants to be friends with everyone without being on anybody's bad side.
He didn't like confrontations, and was frankly afraid of arguments with anyone for that matter.
So seeing you so fearless and ready to hand a guy his teeth over trivial things was like a breath of fresh air for him.
He liked it whenever you got into fights, he would cheer you on, and was always ready to haul your ass away to avoid any consequences.
This one time you guys were fixing something in the vents in one of the smaller freighter of pony express, and Daisuke accidentally ended up unscrewing one of the vents, which caused some wires to malfunction.
And one of the co workers, decided to be extra harsh on Daisuke for some reason, yelling all sorts of things to him.
But when that guy said 'this is why pony express shouldn't hire mama's boys'. You just simply lost it.
You ended up beating the guy to a pulp and he was put on bed rest for atleast 8 months ,which resulted in a trip to the HR
but Daisuke? He was more glad and giddy than anything or anyone.
"hey..I know that you kinda got into trouble for what happened back there, but i just wanna say, that was cool as fuck. I've never had someone care about what I felt like that much. Thank you, so much."
You both are inseparable after that.
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valentine-cafe · 2 months ago
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I have a request for egg tarts jìngyí 1311! (Egg tarts💛)
He's intimidating and cold, so I can't help but imagine a male reader who crossdresses and likes to wear skirts, trying to give him hints or draw his eyes; sitting in a place within jingyí's field of vision as reader oh so casually lifts the side of his (already short) skirt a bit for him . . . . .... .
˖⁺. “ attention-whore ! ” : 
﹙ top mechanic naga boyfriend x bttm male reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁
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. . . verse 1311 jìngyí x male reader !! 🍒 : ﹙ mechanist ˖ naga  ˖ villain character ﹚
you keep trying to snatch the attention of a certain mechanist. while he's hard at work one day - you step into workshop with a short skirt and devious intentions. needless to say, he's tired of keepin his hands off of you 
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﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ cross dressing reader ˖ fingering ˖ handjob  | wc : 1.5k 
﹙ receipts ﹚: finally some requests for jingyi 1311 thank you SO much for this and i hope that you enjoy it !
꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱
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A grunt fills the workshop. Suddenly the cool counter that you are seated on pales in comparison to the pair of white eyes that find yours.
“欠扁.” ( infuriating )
Your brows perch. Head cocking to the side as a small, sweet smile slither to your lips. “Hmm? Everything ‘lright Jìngyí?” You lean your weight back onto your arms that support you from behind. Body cruxed in the perfect angle as your hand pretends as though it is merely fixing your short black skirt.
Tanned hands grip along the undercarriage of the vehicle he worked tirelessly on. The muscles on his arm flexing as he fully pushes himself from beneath the slew of mechanics he had tirelessly been picking apart at for the better part of an hour.
It is a job he could have finished in less. If it weren’t for your pretty self that trotted into the workshop. Batting your lashes at him and asking with that oh so sweet voice if you could - keep him some company since you are sooo bored.
Those white eyes pair with narrowed brows that carry a few drops of sweat. He swipes it off with the back of his knuckles after snatching his cloth and cleaning off his hands. A task he completes with some water once he pushes himself to his feet and rounds over to his sink.
“You are a fucking distraction.”
The mechanist appears before you in a matter of seconds. Those large hands that had worked skillfully with tools and gears now firmly planted on your thighs. His towering height making use of your leaning figure by dipping down to loom his shadow over you.
Reapers should be cold. A reaper snake hybrid should be frozen. And yet his hands are warm from work. Callous. As they slowly trail along the soft skin of your thighs. Slither under your skirt and graze his fingers along flesh that makes you gasp.
Your gaze finds his in haste. Startled by his immediate response and how good his rough palms feel under your skirt. “J-Jìngyí -”
“Hmm?”
Slitted pupils swarm your vision as his head swoops closer. His face with a thin sheen of sweat invading your personal space as he makes himself comfortable between your legs. A rough grip yanking your thighs to hook over his hips. Flush into his black overalls and bend you further. Hike your skirt up more.
What does it matter anyway? Didn’t you -
“Didn’t you want to show off?”
His pelvis weighs down onto yours. You take your teeth between your lips and suck in a breath. Of course this is the reaction you were looking for. It’s the one you’ve spun in you dreams time and time again. To be grabbed, manhandled - pushed and pulled as though you are a pesky invention unable to work well for him.
Cold lips ghost your ear. His large hands splay around your thighs and the curves of your hips. Squeezing. Groping. Feeling the skin that has been distracting him since you pranced on into his workshop and sat upon his countertop. Fucking distracting him from his work.
“Always showing me what is under this skirt. Always playing coy.” Pressure cups around your crotch. The heel of his palm grinds along the underside of your clothed dick and rips a gasp from your lungs. To think that such a cold, dry man could be so. . . forward. “Wanted my attention. Did you not?”
His sneer presses close to your face. Jaw tight. A practical hiss through fangs as his messy hair casts a shadow over his sharp gaze. One that makes your tummy twist. As though the feel of his hand roughly palming along your crotch is not enough.
“Well you got it now.”
A small, cold laugh leaves his lips. One of his hands bury into the back of your hair after promptly shoving you lower. So that the small of your back kisses the counter. So that his free hand shoves your underwear down to your knees - not before spanking the waistband on your thigh for good measure. All so that he can wrap his grip around your pulsing cock and jerk you off beneath that pretty skirt that you love so much.
All the while you are forced to look at him. Even when your eyes flutter. Your chest rises and falls with quickened breaths. Heat spreading over your face as your hips give small, needy bucks into his hand. The rough skin of his palm grazes just right over your sensitive flesh. To add onto the overwhelming feeling - his lips are on your neck in a matter of seconds. Flaring your insides despite the cold, open-mouthed touches.
“J-Jìng - hh. . . yí hah -”
Your whimper meets a rough tug your hair. He scoops your precum up with his thumb and swirls it around your tip. Slowly stroking and massaging along the slit before quickly, mercilessly circling his digit around the head. All while you try to tilt your head back despite his grip. Try to buck your hips faster. Squirm in his strong hold as you quickly take all of his focus rather than that damned car.
The twists in your tummy are your only warnings. Your fingers shoot out to curl into his dark vest. Squeeze at his arms as your lips part in pleasure. Your body convulses. Tenses. And you squirt all over his hand that squeezes so skillfully along your base. Thumb nursing an under-vein that eases a sob from your lips and another spurt of cum.
“Well would you look at that?” Jìngyí’s deep chuckle caresses your hair. Followed by a slew of rough kisses along your jaw, to the underside of it. “Needy little thing. I’ve barely touched you and here you are. Squirting all over the place.”
He tuts and shakes his head slowly. Flips your skirt off to watch the slick trickling down your poor, pulsing dick. Collect your cum along two of his fingers and aim a wad of spit for good measure. So that they might press between your legs further and circle along your rim instead.
“Jì. . . ìngyí wait -” you hiccup. Head flicked back when his digits start easing in. Your hips roll up in tandem. Chasing after his knuckles that continuously withdraw. Skillfully. Teasingly. In a fluid motion that drives you wild with the way he strokes the pads of his fingers along your gummy walls. “W-Want y. . . w-want yr’cock - p-please. please I-I want your cock instead -”
Your pants hiccup into moans the more his fingers move. Inching the long lengths deeper - just as you craved. Your thighs tremble and clamp - if only to receive a harsh spank from his free hand. Before he grabs at your left thigh and shoves it down to the table. Holding you in place as his fingers begin fucking your poor hole sore.
“Awww what? What’s that baby?” His fingers massage up against your sweetspot. A cruel grin meets your arching and soft crying. “Want my cock? Oh poor thing.”
The deepness of his voice only adds a vibration to the croon right above you. His fingers pump faster. Putting your own and any toy you’ve tried to shame ten times and over. He steers you back into them. Fucking you knuckled-deep and spilling drool from your lips with his mere digits.
“Cute to think you deserve it. Precious even. Just be happy with my fingers, fucking whore.”
Cold lips find yours in a messy kiss. His elongated tongue making itself comfortable past your lips. Down your throat as his hand aided your head in forcing it back. Taking his rough, messy kisses as his fingers rapidly pistoned below. A third adding to the mix soon enough.
“Come around here - hah -” another kiss. Heated pants. “Wearing all those pretty skirts. Showing off. Begging for it.” He grips your jaw. Squeezes.
“Better luck next time, pretty boy.”
You aren’t sure how long his fingers worked your hole. He’d keep alternating between your tight rim and your weeping dick. Making you squirm on the table. Kissing away you desperate pleas and cries for him to just fuck you.
Instead all you get is orgasm after orgasm. Until you were laid bare and whining on whatever motion of his hand had you squirming. Whining.
And when his fingers finally withdraw from your tight heat - what does he do?
Wipe the strings of click off on your inner thigh. Fix your skirt, grip at your jaw and press a rough kiss to the corner of your lips —
“Now run along. I have work.”
He leaves you there. A mess. Drooling on his counter. Throbbing for his cock.
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versupital · 4 months ago
Text
↳˗ˏˋexhaust pipeˊˎ˗ suguru geto.
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╰┈➤ a pretty thing like you all alone with a stalled car in a foreign city is the recipe for disaster, but a kind motorcyclist stops to offer help and - now you’re staring at your own fucked-out reflection in his helmet.
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word count.ᐟ 9.7k
content.ᐟMASK KINK. FOOD PLAY. IMPACT PLAY. PROTECTED AND UNPROTECTED. STRANGERS TO LOVERS. ALT!GETO. CUNNILINGUS. EDGING. SLIGHT SPIT KINK. DEGRADATION/DEGRADING NICKNAMES. AFTERCARE. AFAB!READER.
a/n: so this will switch POVs to give my masc/amab!readers out there a chance to step into the story. i hope you guys enjoy suguru’s pining over reader :)
You can’t make this shit up.
The roar of cars speeding by is not helping the anchor in your stomach at the thought of being trapped on a foreign interstate in the middle of the night.
You’d just left a concert, it’s about three hours from your hometown, and you hadn’t bothered with a hotel because you knew you could make the drive. You had not accounted for your car deciding to stall on the highway, though. 
And now it’s late at night. The moon winks at you knowingly, as if trying to tell you it’s going to be alright, but dread has already poisoned your nerves. You’re alone and vulnerable, and you don’t know where to go or who to call.
You find yourself crying in your passenger seat, phone battery nearly drained, the cold of the dark seeping through your clothes. You’re in the typical skimpy outfit that one wears to concerts and you’re cussing out the you who’d chosen something so non-weather friendly. 
You nearly fold and call your parent, when an engine popping gets your attention. You look up and see a motorcyclist pointing to his right, signaling that he is merging across the lanes. Cars slow to allow him over until his revving engine gets louder to indicate his speed. You think he’s heading for the exit as he approaches the last lane but then - to your complete surprise he slows at the last minute and pulls onto the shoulder, feet walking along the asphalt as his motorcycle comes to a stop.
He pulls right behind your car and your stomach tightens with worry.
The man has thick forearms snaked in ink-black artwork, and black cargo pants that cause him to blend into the night like a thief. His boots are thick-soled and all you can imagine is him overpowering you and kicking in your skull.
He props out his kickstand, and your body tingles with fear as the stranger throws himself off of the bike and walks towards you, a backpack bouncing between his shoulders.
“Hey,” he shouts underneath his helmet, which is a black void that does not show a glimpse of his face underneath. “Everything okay?” 
“No,” you sob, wiping your eyes before putting your hand on your pepper spray. “What do you want?”
“Relax,” the stranger puts his gloved hands in the air, “I just want to help you. Your car not working?”
You sniffle, keeping your hand on the pepper spray but softening the tension in your shoulders at his calm demeanor. “No, it stalled and won’t turn back on.”
The stranger does not make any noise for a second, but you see his chest rising and falling underneath his tight black shirt. 
“Alright, um,” he glances at the heavyweight watch on his wrist, clearly noting how late it is. “There aren’t going to be any towing companies open this late. But I’m a mechanic, I can give you a ride home and then we can come back in the morning with my tools to give it a look.”
You shake your head, “I live three hours from here.” 
“What? You aren’t staying somewhere close for the night?” he questions, voice full of surprise.
“No,” you shake your head, “I appreciate your offer, but I am going to sleep in my car until you return.”
He stands frozen for a second before leaning one hand against your car and ducking his masked head towards you. Though you can’t see his eyes, you can feel them. 
“Absolutely not, you can crash with me,” he says softly. “I’ll let you sleep in my room, door locked. I know you’re probably going to say no, but…”
At this point, you have to weigh your options: stay in your car and risk someone breaking or crashing into it while you sleep, or take the gamble of getting kidnapped and murdered by the way-too-polite stranger whose face you haven’t even seen.
“Take off your helmet,” you hear yourself saying suddenly, fearing you’ve already made your decision, and it’s definitely an irrational one.
He doesn’t speak another word before his gloved hands come up and he pries the helmet off of his head, majestically shaking his black locks free and then staring down at you. His eyes are dreamy, twinkling at you as he raises his eyebrows, one of which has a silver bar pierced through it. His bottom lip has two similar hoops on it. He’s devastatingly beautiful.
With an all too-knowing smirk, he leans towards you again. “Do I look scary or something?” 
Your voice is hoarse when you speak again. “Quite the opposite,” you say. “You don’t look like you’ll kill me…” you pause to take a deep breath. “So I accept your offer.”
“Great,” he smiles charmingly, propping his helmet on his hip before offering a hand to help you up out of your car. “You like Indian food? We can get takeout on the way home. Or… whatever you’d like. You’ve been through enough without me telling you what you’re going to eat, I mean…” he tapers off after his nervous babble, and you can’t help the little thump that awakens in your chest. 
“No, Indian is perfect,” you say, engaging a smile, dropping your pepper spray before taking his hand and allowing yourself to be lifted with one swift pull. 
He waits patiently for you to collect your things, and then puts them in his backpack, which he hands to you. 
“You’ll be my replacement backpack for now,” he says, before grabbing your hand again. 
You shouldn’t feel the way you do, all tingly and exhilarated. You should be on guard, with your hands free to defend yourself. Yet there’s something about those deep, lavender eyes that make you want to bounce up and down jump in and drown.
Cars continue to fly by without regard for the two of you being vulnerable pedestrians. Some don’t even bother to merge over. Wind blows your skirt and you flatten it down with a free hand, grateful the man’s attention is on trying to get you safely to his bike.
As he leads you to the motorcycle, you realize you’ll need to wear a helmet in the same moment that he’s passing one to you. It’s huge, and you’re sure you’re not the first girl to put it on. You don’t know why you let that thought, borderline jealousy, slip into your mind. 
“I’m Suguru, by the way,” he says, slipping his own helmet back onto his head and slinging one long leg over the vehicle. “What do they call you?”
“Oh, uh,” you’re taken aback, finding yourself staring dumbfoundedly. You tell him your name and he nods, repeating it to make sure he’s saying it right.
“Nice,” he starts up the bike and it immediately begins gutting out noises from the tiny engine. “So, you getting on?” 
“On what?” you say idiotically, before you gasp and walk to join him. “I mean- sorry, tired.”
“Quite alright,” he says, but there’s a smile in his voice. “Just hop on, and hold onto me as tight as you can.” 
You obey his instructions, gently sliding down on the leather seat and leaning forward, pressing your small chest to his back. It’s solid and tense through his shirt, and you slowly wrap your arms around his stomach, feeling like your heart is going to pound right through his spinal cord.
You’d never ridden on one of these before, and to be honest you aren’t sure you’re past the “sleeping at a stranger’s house” thing, but it’s too late to go back now. 
He puts the bike in reverse to allow himself some room to take off. You link your fingers over his lap, palms pressing against his abdomen. The whole ordeal feels so intimate; you’re grateful that he cannot see your, no doubt, reddened face.
And then it’s like a flash, you’re on the interstate, lights passing by and wind prickling every inch of your skin. 
Suguru wastes no time zooming across the lanes, but you can tell he’s being cautious, not going as fast as he could. It’s probably because of you, you think, and you’re grateful because of the way your stomach is in knots.
Although, your body against his, the revving of his bike, the feeling of people’s eyes on you both as you tread through traffic has your cunt thumping - absolutely wrecked and desperate to be relieved. You’re glad your anxiety is dissipating, but you hadn’t expected it to morph into lust.
Suguru finally makes the stop, as promised, to grab takeout. The food and the two of you manage to make it to his flat in one piece. He resides in a small brownstone with big windows, which seems a little out of character for what you know about him so far. 
He parks his motorcycle out front, locking it up securely, before taking off his helmet and instructing you to do the same.
“My hair probably looks insane,” you say as the helmet slides off, knowing it has a tendency to be flattened when you wear hats. 
“Looks better, in my opinion,” Suguru nods, reaching out to take the backpack from you as well as the takeout bag. “Let’s go before the monkeys around here try to snatch our food.”
“Monkeys…?” you repeat softly, inquiring silently about his choice of insult but not pressing him on it.
Inside, you’re in awe at the sheer organization and cleanliness for it to be a man’s home. The open concept is welcoming, a beautiful arch separating the kitchen from the living room. You take in his massive kitchen space and your fingers suddenly ache to bake something, a small and secret hobby of yours.
“It’s nice in here,” you say softly, glancing around and hugging your arms.
“What’d you expect? A cold, dusty basement?” He laughs and sits the takeout containers on the coffee table, before shrugging his backpack to the floor and hanging his helmet on a peg on the wall. 
While he takes your helmet from your hands, you nod at him. “Yes, actually. I’m still not entirely convinced you aren’t going to kill me.” 
He sighs and checks himself in the circular mirror that hangs behind his couch. You can tell he takes pride in his appearance, adjusting his hair and allowing a single strand to fall over his forehead.
“At least your last meal will be good,” he jokes, glancing at you in the mirror.
When you freeze and don’t reply, he turns and puts his hands up. 
“All jokes,” he assures. “C’mon. Let’s eat.” 
And so it goes. You sit side by side on the couch, Suguru keeping a respectful distance. You face one another and you have one leg tucked under you as you poke your fork into your goat curry, careful not to let it drop onto his suede couch.
“So, what brought you into town?” Suguru questions, dipping his naan into his tikka masala, also making a clear effort not to spill.
“Concert,” you admit between bites, covering your mouth. “I planned to drive here and back home on the same day, that’s why I didn’t think I’d need to make arrangements. Stupid shitbox.”
Suguru laughs. “Well, the shitbox brought us two lonely souls together, if only for the night, so perhaps there’s some beauty in it.”
“How poetic,” you joke. “Do you have any hobbies besides… cars?”
Suguru considers for a moment, “I like to kick kittens and slaughter entire villages.”
“Ah, I definitely sensed that,” you nod sarcastically. “Me, on the other hand, I like to do lame shit like bake and crochet.”
“You like to bake, hm?” he inquires, just as a piece of masala paste drips onto his chin.
“Yeah,” you say, not bothering to break into the sob story of how it’s like therapy for you - how you’d discovered you were good at it and now, every chance you get you’re kneading dough and playing in flour. 
Suguru hums. “You’ll have to bake me something when you’re in town again.”
Your hand suddenly comes up and you find your thumb swiping the masala paste off of his face. “Will do,” you say quietly.
Suguru freezes under your touch and side-eyes your hand, before turning to you as you quickly pull it away.
“Sorry, I’m a messy eater,” he says, grinning slyly, eyes darkened. 
You swallow thickly and clean your thumb on a napkin. “All good. Just uh, didn’t want to embarrass you.”
He smiles a bit. “Aren’t you a sweet thing?” 
You narrow your eyes. “Don’t think that means I can’t still fight.”
“We still on this kidnapping kick?” He sighs. “After I shared my sacred Indian restaurant with you and everything.”
“Sacred?” you scoff. “Do you always share your favorite restaurant with girls you meet on the side of the road?”
“Well, you’re the first girl I’ve met on the side of the road,” he corrects. “So, yes, I guess I do. I’ll have to switch it up next time.” 
You roll your eyes at his arrogance, and then decide you’re satisfied with your meal. “Alright, well I think it’s about time to turn in.” 
“Right,” he nods. “You gonna sleep in that?” His long finger extends and points to your skirt, and you stare at the digit like a brat in heat, before shaking your head.
“I don’t have a change of clothes,” you say. “Obviously.”
“I know that, monkey.” Suguru narrows his eyes at you. “I have clothes for you.”
“Right,” you grit, “and don’t call me that.”
He doesn’t answer and instead rises from the couch, gathering all of your trash and taking it to the kitchen to throw it away. He quickly washes his hands and then gestures for you to follow him down the hall.
“Your home is lovely,” you say as you walk after him, examining his hallway that bares no pictures of anyone except himself and a boy with white hair. 
“Thank you,” he says blankly, pushing open his bedroom door and saying - “Alexa, turn the light on.”
You giggle at the fact that he owns an Alexa, but don’t comment on it.
Once inside of his bedroom, he begins to paw through his dresser. The room reflects him: gold and black, skateboards and a golden helmet mounted to the wall. His bed is a dark abyss of black blankets and a tall headboard with warm white lighting behind it. It smells of eucalyptus and lotion.
“So like I said,” he clears his throat, “you can sleep in here. I’ll be on the couch.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out of your own bed,” you object. 
“Well, I’m certainly not putting you on the couch,” he argues. “But if you wanna sleep with me, just say that.”
You nearly feel your body explode into tiny pieces. The heat that had been present in your chest the first time he’d taken his helmet off has returned, but you have to shake it off.
“I’ll take the bed, alone. Thank you,” you hold a hand up and roll your eyes. “Dickhead.”
Suguru doesn’t say another word, but his face has stretched into a small, devious smile as he tosses a white shirt at you, plus a pair of pink shorts with candy hearts on them.
“Why the hell do you own these?” you ask in complete surprise, noting how they still have the tag on them.
“My best friend made me buy and wear them as a dare,” he says. “But they couldn’t fit all of my curves, go figure. I’ve been saving them for a rainy day.”
“Right,” you say, not believing such a story, but you don’t want to consider the true possibility that they belong to someone else. Not, you might add, that it should matter.
“My bed is nice and clean, ready to go. Charger is on the nightstand. Towels are in the bathroom.” He walks towards you and glances down at the clothes in your hands. “And feel free to ransack my kitchen, or bake or whatever, if you get hungry. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.”
You look up at him. At this proximity, you can see the details in his irises, smell his musk, feel the heat on his body. You realize just how cold his bed is going to be, how strange it’s going to feel sleeping alone in an unfamiliar bedroom.
“Thanks,” you say softly, pulling your eyes away from him - but you know he’s already caught you staring. 
“Goodnight,” he says, and you bid him the same before going to leave the room.
However, your foot gets caught on the plush black rug on the floor and you miss a beat - falling into him. His hand comes out immediately to stabilize you both and your body responds to his thick palm spreading out over your hip.
“Gotta be more careful, baby,” he murmurs, sliding his hand over the jean material of your skirt, allowing it to linger before separating himself from you.
You can’t even speak out of embarrassment. You aren’t sure he intended for you to hear the pet name, so it’s best you don’t comment on it. You spin on your heel and bolt out of the room, heading to the bathroom to shower.
When you return, smelling like fresh dove soap, Suguru has vanished. You see that the living room lights are off; he must already be sleeping.
When you settle into his bed, it’s a little cold, but the smell of a man and shampoo lingering all over the satin material of the sheets manages to comfort you. You don’t lock the door, you don’t even close it. You feel like you can trust him. Maybe you’re naive for it, but you don’t have much time to recant your decision before you drift off to sleep.
S. GETO
Suguru awakes later that night to faint rustling. 
His eyes pry open reluctantly, blinking away sleep as he sits up straight, his guard up. He sees the glow from the kitchen, though, and realizes it’s probably just you. He rubs his eyes to fully wake himself before glancing over at the bright digital clock on the wall. 2:20AM.
He frowns. Why would you be in the kitchen at such an ungodly hour? He doesn’t mind, he'd told you to make yourself at home, but seeing how late it is concerns him. 
He sneaks his way to the archway of the kitchen, preparing himself to accidentally startle you, but when he sees instead makes his arteries clench.
Pretty little you stands in front of the open fridge, back arched as you browse inside. The boyshorts he’d given you hug your body deliciously, accentuating the shape of your ass, and outlining your ever-so-juicy lips.
Suguru thinks back to when he’d first seen you sitting helplessly in your car. He’d of course thought you were sexy, but above that, beautiful. Your features fit you perfectly. His appreciation for your looks make his blood pump faster; this time, the blood is just pumping to the wrong place.
He continues to lean against the arch to the kitchen, cloaked in the shadows of the frame like a creep. You retreat from the fridge holding a stick of butter and navigate your way to the island - which is covered in dough and flour.
Are you really baking at 2 in the morning? 
He likes seeing you so focused, carefully dropping the stick into a bowl, mashing it with a spoon.
Then, you perk up a bit. Suguru suspects you’ve sensed his gaze when your face flushes immediately, your body freezing. Then, you glance over at him, your seductive eyes locking into him in a way that makes his chest feel you’ve just taken a grip on his heart.
He holds his breath, unsure what kind of reaction you are going to have.
"Oh, did I wake you?" you ask finally, tone slightly nervous, eyes unable to stay in one spot. 
"No," he lies, shaking his head. "I woke up to use the bathroom, but I saw the light on and wanted to..." Make sure you were okay. "Make sure I wasn't getting robbed."
You laugh. A soft melody that makes him feel obsessed and pathetic.
"You're half right," you say with an apologetic shrug. "You're definitely going to need more eggs when I'm finished." 
Suguru chuckles and peels himself from the doorway, walking towards the island where you stand with the butter wrapper in your hand. He watches your demeanor shift as you sit the wrapper on the floury surface.
"So, should I call in report of an egg thief?" Suguru teases, stopping next to you.
Your eyes take a moment to meet his. Your gaze had been lingering on his bare chest; of which he’d forgotten about. He always sleeps shirtless, but he would have put on a shirt out of respect for you, had he known you’d be up together like this. He watches your pouty lips part, and he grows desperate to read your mind.
When you finally look at his eyes, Suguru has to swallow down his primal instincts. Something about the way you look - peaked nipples poking through the thin material of his shirt, areolas slightly visible, dumbfounded expression from you not realizing how close you are to being pinned to the damn island.
"I'll buy you another carton after my car is fixed," you murmur timidly. "I have night terrors and baking always calms me down after having them. I should have asked before just using your kitchen.”
Suguru just stares when your ramble comes to a conclusion. "Sounds like you're apologizing, but there's no need for that." He leans forward, putting a hand on the island, realizing just how awfully, deliciously he towers over your frame. How easily he could overpower you. “I told you that I didn’t mind. What was your dream about?”
You seem to shut down at his question though, timidness entering your features as you turn your head from him. “It was nothing,” you answer bluntly.
Suguru knows you’re lying, but he doesn’t think it’s his place to press you more.
After a moment of awkward silence, he asks “Alright, what are you baking?”
You seem delighted that he’d asked. You reach towards the oven and pull open the door, revealing a rising pastry on the center rack.
"I made something up with what you had," you shrug. "It's a sort of berry and honey cobbler." 
Suguru’s stomach is rumbling already, combined with the pressure in his groin from the cock that threatens to slither out on its own accord. "It looks delicious, how long until it's done?" 
You glance up at the clock. "About ten minutes."
"Ah, so I caught you ransacking what was left of my groceries at the perfect time," he teases.
You grin and turn back towards the island, pulling a bowl towards you both that is filled with a red compote. To Suguru’s utter surprise you dip your finger into it, the consistency appearing to be sticky and thick.
"This is the glaze I made for it," you announce softly. "Wanna try some?" 
Suguru feels his eyelids drop. He leans forward and strands of his hair fall over his shoulders, shadowing his face to hide the way he feels himself drinking in the sight of you. He doesn’t trust himself to say more than a simple, “Sure.”
"Wait, it's kind of sticky,” you begin. “I'll grab a spoon.”
You turn to search for his drawer of silverware, but Suguru is quicker. He grabs your hand with the drizzled finger and watches as your neck snaps towards him in surprise. Your little doe eyes widen in realization, and there go your plump lips parting again - making it so incredibly easy if Suguru wanted to lean down and sink his teeth into them. 
He thinks he might have made a mistake until he sees the mirrored longing in your eyes that he senses has been in his the entire time he’s been in here with you. So it feels like the only right decision now is to course your finger to his lips.
You watch as he parts them and then slowly slides the tip of your finger into his mouth. Whether you realize it or not, you gasp, so needily, and even more so when Suguru gently sucks the honey mixture from your finger - holding eye contact all the while, silently daring you to look away.
He swirls his tongue, knowing full well he’s already finished cleaning it of the sticky mess, just to make his point extra clear. He slides it back out with a pop. 
He sees your eyes darken, in the most innocent, yet unknowingly sensual way. His mind begins to swirl with scenarios - him laying you down gently, and ghosting his lips over your naked torso to discover the kind of noises you make or contrarily; tossing you down and taking a handful of that beautiful hair, before delivering a series of the longest, hardest, sloppiest strokes you can possibly take.
"Is it... good?" you ask, your dry voice breaking his thoughts away from the blood rushing towards his pancreas. 
"Delicious," Suguru breathes out, barely recognizing his own faraway voice, "have you tried it?" 
You shake your head slightly, as if sensing his trap. “Not yet…”
"Hmm," he says aloud, dropping your hand and taking his fingers under your chin. "You’re so good at this.”
“A-Am I? I’ll have to try it before the cobbler is done,” you ramble nervously, clearly shying away from his touch, but he maintains his hold on your chin.
He doesn’t know what it is about you that has him so whipped in this short time. He feels so lost in his uncontrollable desire for you.
“I can give you a taste,” he finds himself whispering, faces just a few centimeters apart. Your body is mindlessly molding against his and he knows he’s got you.
You gasp into the small space between the two of you, and at the same perfect moment, he folds and crashes his desperate lips onto yours.
The kiss is hard and unsure at first, but it quickly softens as you surrender to his mouth. You melt into each other so easily, your breasts immediately glazing his torso and awakening chills all along his skin. He takes the closeness as a sign that it’s okay to put his hands on your sides, resting them idly atop the shorts.
Suguru can’t help but to let out a wanton grunt at the feeling of your body under his palms as he uses the pressure of his hands to rotate your positions. Now, your obedient little body is pressed between the island and his cock.
His hands slip under your thighs, which elicits a gasp from you. You break away from the kiss momentarily to stare at him as he effortlessly lifts you into the air and then plants your bottom on the island. 
You both gasp as a cloud appears, but Suguru finds himself unable to care that he’s just plopped you down into a pile of flour. He doesn’t waste any time kissing you again, but he only remains on your lips for a short time before he connects wet, sloppy kisses down your jaw - and your hands slide desperately into the roots of his hair. 
You spread your legs, inviting him to stand between, and Suguru feels his body jerk when you lock your calves into his sides. He moves his mouth back to yours and licks your lower lip, before sliding his tongue into your mouth and taking yours around it.
You clamp your teeth down on the muscle and suck on it like a little deviant - and it makes Suguru’s eyebrows furrow in sexual frustration. He needs you horribly, awfully.
He tastes the honey on your breath, sweet and dangerous, and his mind begins to cook up a disgusting idea. His fingers entangle in the shirt you wear, and the hem begins to rise over your stomach as he tugs it upwards.
“Suguru?” you mumble into his mouth, prompting him to reluctantly break the kiss.
“Mmh, do you want this?” he murmurs into your ear, loosening his grip on your shirt to prepare for the possibility that you’re going to say no. 
Instead, you mutter ‘yes’ shamelessly quick, and in a white flash the shirt is poof - disregarded. 
Suguru tries not to allow his eyes to bug out like a teenage boy who’s never seen breasts, but he feels himself failing miserably - even worse when his hands slither up to cup them, angling your nipples towards his face.
Your little body writhes, air escaping from your throat in the form of an encouraging gasp. Suguru grins and waits a moment before releasing them. The memories of his hands on your body appear in the form of powdery handprints, the both of you utterly covered in flour without a single care.
“Hmph,” you pout, and Suguru resists the urge to smack his hand across your nipple to put you in check - but there’s no telling if you’d enjoy that as much as he would. 
“Hold still f’me,” he mutters, reaching behind you for the bowl of syrupy compote. 
He feels your gaze burning into the side of his face as he pulls the bowl closer to your hips and dips his thumbs into the mixture. You can’t see this in real time as he does it, so your eyes look dumb and shocked when he brings his hands back towards your chest. 
“I like causing pain,” Suguru blurts suddenly, holding his thumbs out and aligning them with your nipples. “Can I be a little mean to you, angel?”
You swallow, nearly gulping, but with reluctance you’re nodding in agreement. 
“Words,” Suguru quips, pressing his body hard into yours to drive the message home.
“Y-Yeah,” you say and to his surprise, you add: “I also… like that kind of thing.”
“Mmm,” Suguru groans out. “Knew you were too good to be true.”
And with that, his thumbs are smearing your sweet little mix onto the buds of your chest - keeping them painfully erect as more syrup covers the areolas entirely.
You’re moaning just from his touch; he’s so impatient to hear the foul cries you’ll make when he’s clamping his teeth onto your sensitive nipples.
He sucks the remaining syrup off of each thumb, and then before you can question him, he latches his mouth onto your right nipple with desperation. 
He can feel the bumps rise on your skin from the intimacy, your perfect body arching against him as he swirls his tongue hungrily. His lips purse as he uses his tongue to suck the skin raw and clean. 
Your mouth is so dangerously close to his face, soft pants falling directly into his ear canal. He takes this as encouragement as his teeth sink into your nipple and his left hand strikes a heavy palm against your other. 
The way you jerk in response is so pathetic, Suguru nearly laughs at you. Earlier, you were so helpless and scared - you’d been pretending to be tough, and now he has you so needy and submissive that it’s comical. 
“Mmh,” you mumble into his ear, “again, please.”
Your little cunt must be so wet for him now. He wants to dip his fingers into your juice and force you to eat it, but he knows these things come one step at a time. He’s just so ready, so impatient. And he can tell you’re equally as ready.
He obeys you, just this once, smacking your breast again, his hand getting covered in the sticky compote. He breaks away from your right breast, deciding it’s time to clean off the other. 
“That feel good?” he questions, though he knows based on your furrowed eyebrows and toes subconsciously clinging to the back of his legs that it does.
“Y-yes,” you grit, tugging his hair, causing him to growl. “Why’d you stop?”
“Patience is a virtue,” Suguru mutters, blowing cool air over your sticky nipple, flicking it slightly with his tongue and smacking his lips to taste the syrup. 
“N-No,” you shake your head desperately, pleading. “Keep going.”
Suguru ponders on it, but ultimately he gives you what you want, though not without smacking your thigh harshly - making you yelp. He can’t speak with his tongue caressing the ring of your nipple so he communicates his threats for you to remember your place in the form of impactful hits. He cracks one on your abandoned right breast, and he knows it stings more because of his saliva that remains all over it. You whine in his ear and it only encourages him. 
“Harder, you say?” he questions, detaching his mouth. 
Now, his hands are coming down in rapid-fire. Crack, crack, crack. Your knees are bound to leave bruises on his hips with the way they’re digging into his skin. He’s growling now, unable to help himself. Your nipples feel so good on his tongue, and he can still taste the delicious honey mix. He wants to drizzle it all over you, make you into a writhing, sticky mess as he sucks it off.
YOUR POV.
Your cunt is pounding so badly, you can nearly feel the heat radiating off of it and landing directly on Suguru’s stomach as he sits up straight and looks down at you. His lips are wet and sticky, his hair stuck to his forehead. He looks so fucked, so hopeless. You’re equally as entranced, so caught up in his beauty, in the way his tongue feels, needing more.
You open your mouth to speak, but Suguru catches your lips with his own, and then his arms wrap around your body. He kisses you ferociously, berry and honey hot on his breath, before he takes his hand underneath your ass and lifts you effortlessly into the air. You’re forced to gasp into his mouth and he catches your sound with his tongue, encapsulating yours in it, lathering it up in his spit.
Just as Suguru begins to haul you away, the oven beeps. You groan into each other’s mouth as your heads break apart, and you lean onto his shoulder.
“Fuck, I forgot all about the cobbler,” you whisper against him. 
He makes a noise of frustration before releasing you from his grip, your legs sliding down his body. He catches you by your hips, oversized hands holding you like a fragile piece of art. You bite your lip as you hesitantly part from him, and he watches you with patience for a moment before he heads to the fridge. 
As you rip open the oven door, grab an oven mitt, and pull the pastry out with frustration, Suguru equips a cup of ice. You don’t think too much of it as you sling the pan onto the stove top before turning off the oven and nearly bolting back to Suguru, who instead of lifting you up, guides you by his free hand to the living room. 
“Do you still want to do this?” Suguru questions, pulling you in front of him, until you find yourself standing in the dark with your back to the sectional. 
There’s a small red light emitting from the corner of the room, illuminating his skin and making him look so terrifyingly beautiful. As you stand below him, you’ve decided you’d let him rip your guts apart if that’s what he requested.
“So much,” you say softly. Without any more instruction, you find yourself sinking onto the couch. “I hope you don’t think—”
“Think what?” Suguru interrupts, crouching in front of you, the ice in his cup shaking as he goes to place it down. “I have nothing negative to say about you. Besides, we’re having fun, aren’t we, pretty girl?”
Your cunt throbs at the pet name again. Your hands fly out, a little to your own surprise and land on his shoulders.
“Suguru, I…” the confession is shy on your lips for a moment, but you must let it be known. “I need you.”
“Mmm,” Suguru purrs, taking the cup of ice back into his hand, “How bad?”
“So bad,” you beg. “Please, no teasing.”
Suguru laughs at you and the noise sends another rush of adrenaline to your hole, now the material of his shorts is coated with your juices. 
“It’s a shame we don’t have more time to learn about each other,” he coos. “You would know that I’m incapable of not teasing, especially when you sound so cute asking me for what you want, and I know that I can deny you.”
“Hngh, no,” you whine. “Don’t torture me like that.”
Suguru just laughs again, and you notice now that he has removed a piece of ice from the cup. He holds it in one hand, while his free hand comes up to your bare chest, applying a small amount of pressure to push you flush against the back of the couch.
You gasp as you find yourself leaning back, then Suguru is grabbing your hips, dragging them to the edge of the couch. 
“Hm, you’re a little hot,” he observes, hand sliding up your leg and resting underneath the hem of the shorts. “I’ve gotta cool you down.”
“O-Oh?” you stutter, keeping your feet on the ground even though you fully suspect that Suguru is about to instruct you to do the opposite.
Instead, he sits up on his knees, still managing to tower over you because of how insanely long-legged he is. Your eyes watch lustfully as he pops the ice between his perfect lips and then clamps onto it with his teeth. He’s forcing you to keep your eyes on him with his own purple stare, then, his mouth reattaches to yours.
He drags the ice over your bottom lip, head moving slowly from side to side, and you shiver like a white in heat. The cold, cold ice leaves a wet trail behind as he pulls it down the side of your face, over a sensitive vein on your neck, then the outline of your collarbone.
Your back arches off of the couch, and you’re clawing desperately at his skin. He’s pretending not to notice as he’s continuing his trip down the map of your body, seeming to know it like the back of his hand even though he hardly knows you.
The ice slides over the peak of your breast agonizingly slow. Your nipples, still painfully erect, are sore from the events that had taken place moments ago - but Suguru doesn’t care.
He swirls that ice over them, even as you writhe and shake your head no, nails breaking open the skin on his trap muscles. His hair brushes your sternum, creating goosebumps, eliciting more purrs and gasps from your throat. Every part of you is responding to him, from your pulsing cunt, to your heart, to your collagen.
“Holy shit,” you whisper from above, and he grunts a little response before the ice finds your other abused nipple, teasing it softly before he applies full pressure with the melting ice, leaving your nipples sore and soaked.
You’re shivering uncontrollably now, breaths only able to come out in the form of short, quickened pants. Suguru’s showing no mercy. He’s approaching your belly button with the ice.
The ice is nearly gone, but now Suguru’s hands are sliding up underneath your squishy thighs, fingertips pressing into the flesh as he folds them up towards your face. 
You gasp as his head has quickly jumped from your stomach to the heat between your legs. He dips forward and plants an extremely fat, cold kiss to the cloth of his shorts.
“S-Suguru,” you whimper out, but he’s too busy swirling what's left of the ice over the material, nearly eating you out through the garment.  
You can’t take the torture. Your hands have fallen from his shoulders but now they’re dug into his hair like the reins on a horse, attempting to snatch him back up, but he’s so lost in his own pleasure he doesn’t budge. 
“Shut up,” he grunts, the movement of his mouth making you squirm. 
The second your body arches off of the couch, Suguru has his hands slid under the shorts and is dragging them down your legs. Without a change of underwear, you’d chosen to go commando, so the minute the shorts are off - your cunt winks him in the eye. 
You fight the urge to shy away. Even as your legs begin to close, Suguru stops you immediately, hands coming up the inside of your thighs and applying pressure to your knees.
“Be good, slut, if you want to be able to cum,” he murmurs, turning back momentarily to grab his ice again. 
You’re already shivering at the thought of the cold contact. Suguru pops a piece into his mouth and stares up at you as he moves it between his cheeks, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue to show you the ice inside with a smirk.  
You stare down at him in awe and surprise, until he completely distracts you when the coldness of his wet mouth makes contact with your clit. Just a small brush of his lips, but it’s enough to have you begging him for more.
“Please, more,” you cry, and Suguru laughs against your cunt.
He drags the tip of the ice between your folds, the metal of his lip rings simultaneously sliding on the inside of your lips. It feels incredible, every inch of the nerves at your core being tainted and overwhelmed.
Your heels are planted flat on his shoulders, and he’s grunting like some kind of wild animal ripping apart the flesh of its prey while the squelches of your cunt respond to him whorishly. 
Suguru pops the ice back in his mouth and is now flicking your clit with his icy tongue, keeping the ice in his cheek while he works ecstasy through your bundle of nerves.
And just when you start rolling your hips in time with his tongue, he pulls away. He sucks on the ice while looking you in the eye and then, smack! His palm lands on your unsuspecting cunt and you scream.
It stings. Your clit is so sensitive from the ice already, but Suguru knows that. You know he does. Once the sting dissolves, your body begins to feel the pleasure that comes with pain.
“Hah - Suguru, fuck,” you mumble out. You’re slowly starting to have enough of the foreplay.
“Hm? What?” he questions, cocking his head like he’s got no clue what he’s doing. 
“Please,” you say, not directly asking for what you want, letting the end of your sentence hang in the air. 
Suguru fakes a yawn, “Sorry, I don’t know how to understand dumb little angels who can’t use their words.”
You frown and attempt to kick him, but he catches your foot, and at the same moment you see him swallow what was left of the ice in his mouth. 
“Tsk tsk,” he says, clicking his tongue. “Bad kitty.”
You don’t have time to squirm away before he’s sitting up, taking your body into the air, and then slamming you back down onto the couch. You lay long ways now, head resting on the corner of the sectional, and Suguru creeps over you like a panther.
His bare chest rubs your own and he dips his head into your neck, lips still freezing and glazed over with spit. He drags his mouth over your pulse, pinning your arms above your head as you try to slither from below him. 
“Say what’s on your mind,” he murmurs against your ear canal, “don’t keep secrets from me, monkey.”
“Hngh - don’t fucking call me that,” you grit, attempting to knee him in the stomach but he’s using all of his body weight to keep you down. 
You lay completely naked and helpless below him, attempting to grind your sulking cunt over the clear bulge in his pajama pants. He keeps kissing your neck, grunting softly in your ear to make you feel worse about the fact that you are restrained - and denied his cock. 
“What do you want?” he purrs, ghosting the tips of his top teeth over your jaw. “Speak up.” 
You’re a muddled, moaning mess and he knows it - but you manage to mumble out a pathetic, “Your cock, Suguru.” 
“Already? We just met,” he coos, tracing the shape of your cheek with his fingertip. 
“Shut up,” you growl at him, wishing you could grip him by his bulge to show him what it’s like to be repeatedly teased and denied. 
As if reading your mind, he releases one of your hands and quickly smacks the side of your thigh, then sinks his nails into the stinging skin to keep you from making another snotty threat. 
“Watch your tone,” he directs, and then lifts your leg so that it rests against the back of the couch. “Be a good girl and wait right here, and keep your legs open.” 
He lifts himself off of you, but not before he dips his head and spits a thick glob of glistening saliva on your cunt, walking away while the fluid slides through your folds.
You lay there in fear of punishment, unmoving, taking the time to catch your breath. 
And then, when he returns moments later, you lay there still obediently sprawled out. He’s ripping a condom wrapper open with his teeth, and his cock is sliding through his hand. 
You gasp. Despite it being mostly dark in the living room, you can see that his dick stretches nearly the length of your own forearm, all while glistening with his spit. Suguru catches your appalled face and smirks in the dark.
“Didn’t your mommy ever teach you that it’s rude to stare?” he questions, leaning over you as he rolls the condom onto his cock.
Your eyes are having a hard time prying themselves away, but you succeed when he leans down and presses a deep kiss to your lips, practically eating your mouth off of your face. He bites down on your bottom lip and grunts heavy breaths into your mouth as he finishes adjusting himself. 
You lick his lip rings like a desperate slut. Your hands remain above your head as if he’s still holding them down; you’re disgusted at just how obedient he’s made you out to be in a short time. 
Now he’s crawling over you again. But before you give him time to get settled, your mouth blurts a request. 
“Put the helmet on,” you say meekly, watching as Suguru’s pierced eyebrows knit together in surprise.
“My motorcycle helmet?” he questions, and you nod. “Wow, trying to say I’m too ugly to stare at?”
You groan and roll your eyes. “N-No, I just, um… nevermind.” You don’t want to admit how the idea of him in his helmet makes you even wetter. 
Luckily though, Suguru read your mind.
“You’re a nasty little thing, aren’t you?” he questions, and you notice how his hand slithers up to the wall, and acutely plucks the helmet off of its peg. 
“Hmph,” you shake your head. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
You tilt your chin up defiantly and watch as he slides it over his face, adjusting the strap and closing the glass visor. Now, it’s just you and your reflection staring at one another, and you can see your poor body all marked up from Suguru’s impactful slaps.
It makes your cunt throb so unbelievably fast, and you think you’ll wither away if you have to go another minute without Suguru pumping inside of you. 
“This was a great idea,” he says, voice raspier and deeper from the other side of the mask. “Now, it’s time to stretch you out, baby.”
You gulp. You aren’t sure you’ll be able to survive his cock. But you want to try. All that rumbles through your mind is getting it inside of you, of feeling the burn as it threatens to break through to your stomach. 
“Please,” you whine, “I don’t think I can take much more.”
“Hmm, I guess you’ve been good enough,” he ponders aloud, and now his two thick arms are on either side of your head. 
He’s letting your hands stay free, to your surprise, and you take advantage of it by dragging your nails down his torso. He momentarily falters, but then he’s pressing the tip of his cock to your folds - sliding it down, lathering it in your slick. Your toes curl, your knees find themselves on his hips. You stop and sink your nails into his pecs to threaten him, but he’s unmoved.
“Didn’t I tell you to be patient?” he questions, shoving his hips forward so that you feel a faint amount of pressure on your clit, and then it disappears as he pulls away.
“Ngh, how can I be patient?” you cry. “Quit being afraid to fuck me.”
“Afraid?” Suguru laughs and then his hand comes up, palm on your windpipe, fingers pressing pressure into either side of your neck. “You’re the one with fear in your eyes, little monkey. Don’t think you can handle my cock, do you?”
You frown and gasp, attempting to snap back at him, but your voice is cut off as well as your air flow. Suguru gives you no chance to fight before his hips press into you for good this time - and without even using his hands, the crown of his cock is pushing through the threshold of your cunt. 
The two of you make mirrored fucked-out noises of desire. You whine as your walls try to stretch around him, but the friction is causing it to burn. You can only attempt a gasp underneath Suguru’s death grip on your throat. 
“Mmh, so tense baby,” Suguru purrs, “relax. You can take it.”
You shake your head, or attempt to. Your hand rests on Suguru’s wrist, your fingers digging in to the bone as you attempt to let your body get used to Suguru filling you up. You stare at yourself pathetically, hopelessly in his visor. You can feel his eyes watching you take him, watching your lips part as you attempt to breathe despite him restricting your airflow. 
Your elastic walls finally start to contract, allowing Suguru to bottom out. He rests like that for just a moment, barely giving you time to swallow him up before he’s pulling his hips back and entering again. 
You moan in time with his long strokes, and he keeps his pace slow until you’ve got him completely slicked up. Now he’s moving in and out of your hole like butter, and you’re crying below him. 
“Oh, so fucking good,” he grits, dipping his head closer to you, so you’re forced to keep staring at yourself. 
His abdomen glistens as he begins to sweat. Your eyes don’t know where to look; they’re traveling over his sculpted muscles like a pervert in heat. He notices and drums his hips harder into you to throw you off - and your eyes squeeze shut as you’re overrun with pleasure. 
You secretly wish you could see the way Suguru’s face is twisted up under his helmet, but somehow, the gift of suspicion is much more thrilling. Feeling like you have no idea who’s fucking your guts up makes you even wetter. Suguru can tell, and he’s using all of your juices to his advantage. You’re dripping all over his expensive couch while neither of you find time to care.
“Agh - Suguru, please!” you shriek, knees falling closer to your chest. 
Suguru takes his hand off of your throat before tucking each hand underneath your thighs, pinning them to your chest, cockhead hitting a new and deeper angle this way. 
“Fuck, ‘m so deep,” he mumbles, hips losing their synchrony, strokes becoming sloppier and needier. “God, y’sure you have to go home tomorrow?”
“Mm-mm,” you hum, brain jumbled as he nearly begins to tap your uterus. “Gonna stay here and get fucked forever.”
“So good for me,” Suguru coos, smacking the underside of your thigh and hastening his pace. “So fucking good.”
“Hah - so deep,” you comment, attempting to use your hands to press on his chest, but it means nothing when Suguru is overpowering you with his hold on your legs. 
Your arms fall limp, and you accept defeat as your cervix gets rammed over and over and over - nasty, wet noises engulfing the air as you squeeze yourself around Suguru for his pleasure.
“Feel you pulsing,” Suguru grits, “don’t do that…”
You pretend not to hear him and keep flexing your muscles, and the veins in his cock tap against your spongey walls in response. 
“Suguru,” you pant, “Suguru, Suguru. Let me ride you.”
He hums and keeps pumping, “You want to get on top, naughty girl? Wanna make me feel good?”
“Y-Yes, please,” you beg, opening your eyes and staring in the direction of what you assume are his eyes on the other side of the helmet visor. 
“Hm, I suppose I’ll allow it,” he tuts, and before you know it, he’s sliding out of you and you’re cold and empty inside. You need him back deep inside of you, so you waste no time sitting up the minute he lets go of you. 
Suguru laughs, a piercing noise that disrupts the silence in the room. “You’re dripping all over my suede, pretty girl. Gonna be able to smell your mark, even when you’re gone.”
You roll your eyes, but can’t deny the heat in your cheeks as you slither into a standing position, switching with Suguru as he sits back on the couch and opens his arms for you. 
Your stomach lurches with butterflies at the simple, intimate gesture. You crawl onto his lap, straddling him, and his arms engulf you in a bear hug. You lean forward to align yourself with his cock, and then, you’re reaching for his length and peeling the condom right off.
Suguru’s back arches off of the couch at the overstimulating feeling - and he gasps underneath his helmet. “Mm, you want it raw?”
“Wanna feel the real thing,” you say desperately, tossing the wet condom onto the floor with your lustful brain disregarding the dangers of it. 
“A person who takes what she wants,” Suguru taps the chin of his helmet thoughtfully. “I like it.” 
You don’t answer him because you’re too busy aligning your hole with his now dry cock and slicking it back up in a mix of your juices and his precum. 
Now it’s your turn to make him writhe, and he does, his thigh muscles flexing under you - his hands breaking open the skin in your back.
Then you’re shoving him back inside of you, and it takes you no time to slide down the complete length. You lean forward, hands on his chest, moaning as you readjust to him for a second time. 
“Oh, Y/N,” Suguru chirps, “you fit me so well, don’t you?” And then he’s hitting you on your sensitive nipple again, before taking it between his index and thumb, pinching and applying painful pressure. 
“So well,” you repeat mindlessly, pussy swallowing him up to his balls, before raising your hips again in the same motion that feels pleasurable to you. 
Suguru helps you by sliding his hands to your hips, showering you in dirty praises like so tight, nasty slut, perfect for me. 
S. GETO
You feel so good, snugly wrapped around him, dripping all down his cock like a needy mess. Your face is so beautiful when it’s fucked out, as you focus on trying to take all of him. 
You’d done so good, taking all his hits and teasing, the least he can do is let you use his cock for your pleasure. And it’s his pleasure, indeed, to do so. 
He hums as he watches you from the other side of his visor, your breasts bouncing in his face, your lip snapped under your teeth. It’s everything he can do to prevent himself from filling you up with cum so soon - but you’re making it so hard. 
He’d have never guessed you’d end up like this when he’d rescued you. He’d honestly just been trying to be a polite samaritan, but he isn’t going to knock the situation the two of you have found yourselves in. 
He notices that you’ve started panting harder, your hips have gotten slower. You’re wearing down, but based on your pulsing cunt around him, you’re close.
Well, that just won’t do.
He takes his hands and goes in for your hips, trying to bite down his primal instincts when you whine pathetically in response. He takes you and lifts you up off of him, and you nearly shriek as his cock plops out of you and lands erect against his stomach. 
You stare down at him in horror, “Suguru, I was so close!” 
“I know, I’m not an amateur,” he teases, before he shoves you back down onto his cock and uses his grip on your hips to slide you up and down on it like you’re just a fucktoy. 
Your eyes roll to the whites, and you start moaning again, unable to argue with him - until he repeats the process and rips you up off of his cock again.
“Stop!” you cry out, hands flying up to his shoulders and clawing at them, as if that’ll make a difference.
Suguru smirks under his disguise and plops you back down, not even half way before he’s taking you off again.
By now, you’re catching on, but he still recognizes how close you must be to cumming.
You barely let out soft moans now, all of your noises coming out harsh and frustrated. He thinks it’s cute when you try to threaten him, or cuss at him.
“You wanna cum?” Suguru asks you, eyebrow raised, though he knows you can’t see it.
“God, please,” you beg, staring at him as hard as you can, and he knows you’re trying hard to find his eyes.
He decides to help you out when he takes the helmet off, shaking his hair free. Now he looks up at you, taking in your face without his visor in the way. You’re so desperate to be back down on his cock but he holds you at tip length, just kissing the inside of your cunt.
He takes one of his hands to your throat, but this time he’s gentle. He applies enough pressure to bring your face towards him, but not enough to cut off your air like last time. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, distracting you, making you melt and whimper.
Dumb little brat.
The minute your body softens and you’re leaning your chest against him, purring in his ear, he starts drilling his hips up harshly against your thighs. His cocktip kisses the end of your pussy and each time he hits the squishy barrier, you bite down on his earlobe.
You’re so good for him, he thinks. He has to convince you not to leave - but he knows that’s selfish. He doesn’t care, because he needs your cunt all to himself, whenever he wants it.
“You got it, pretty girl,” Suguru coos, fucking into you as mean as he can.
His arms wrap around you and you hold onto each other like you’re free falling from the sky - whining and moaning and hissing and cussing until finally, your pretty cunt pulses rapidly around him and then quenches as you begin to cum.
Suguru feels his own orgasm overcoming him and he starts to pull you off of him - but you fight back.
“I-It’s okay, you can cum inside,” you moan deviously into his earlobe, nearly unable to speak as you cum all over his cock.
Suguru shakes his head violently, though he wants to so bad - he rather glaze your skin with his nut.
“Mmh,” he hums and then overpowers you, flipping you back onto your back before he pulls his cock out of your pussy and strokes his length until it spurts his hot cum all over your belly.
You writhe and roll your hips as it lands on your skin, and Suguru pants heavily as he milks himself for all he’s got. You look so delicious underneath him again, this time slicked up with his semen.
And as if to seal an already perfect experience, you slide your finger through it and then shove it into your mouth, where you slurp it clean.
“Mm, delicious,” you mutter, “have you tried it?”
Suguru chuckles at you before leaning down to kiss you again. “So beautiful covered in my cum, you know that?”
You nod shyly and entangle your hands in his hair. “I admit, you look hot in the helmet, but your hair is too pullable to be hidden away like that.”
Suguru feels his face heat a bit but he plays it off by dipping his head downwards so that you can’t see. “You’re too sweet, gorgeous.”
You pant as a response before saying, “Why’d we do that?”
Suguru freezes. “A-are you regretting it?”
“No,” you answer quickly. “I’ve just never… hooked up with someone before.”
Suguru chuckles. “Well, pretty girl, we don’t have to call this a hookup.”
You smile up at him and then he’s tucking his arms under your back and lifting you up for what feels like the hundredth time.
It isn’t long before Suguru is carrying you to the bedroom and cleaning you off with a cool towel, applying ointment to the raw spots on your skin and serving you a cup of ice water.
He’s trying not to think about you leaving the following morning. Every time he does, his stomach begins to hurt and his chest throbs.
But for now, he has his little rider entangled in his arms like the two of you have known each other for an eternity - and he’s grateful you’ve forgotten about the cobbler you baked, because he can’t bear for you to get out of bed right now.
“How are you feeling?” he questions, noticing your breathing has slowed and you are close to sleep.
“Exhausted,” you mumble sleepily. “Pipe does that to you.”
It’s all he can do to stifle an unearthly laugh at your joke, before he pets your hair until you join each other in sleep.
Yall im so sorry this is probably so shitty!
This one was the most requested that’s why it’s going first - I hope it meets your expectations. :]
~ pennjammin
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emeritusemeritus · 3 months ago
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Hi! I love your writings! I’m obsessed with jealous fred weasley so if you could write a one shot with whatever you’d like :)))
(If you hate just ignore pls lol)
Hi love! Thank you so much, this has been a lot of fun to write. I’ve been sat watching Goblet of Fire, took one look at Fred in this scene and knew it just had to be long hair Freddie because it makes me feral. Hope you enjoy! 🖤
Warnings: bit of swearing, mild sexual references. Fred gets jealous and a little possessive. Talks of marriage. Sorry McLaggen I needed a villain.
Word count: 1k
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A cold heart and a warm jumper
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Jealousy wasn't something Fred Weasley ever felt.
He knew his family weren't rich, that they'd never have the best of anything or anything new in abundance and so from a young age, he'd made peace with it and learned not to envy others. Being one of seven kids and most importantly a twin in a family that was already stretched both financially and emotionally, he'd had to learn to share, virtually from the day he was born. He'd shared clothes, toys, his room, practically his entire life with George, even a uterus and placenta, though he didn't care to think about that.
But now, watching Cormac McLaggen leering over the one thing in his life that he absolutely refused to share, he felt the unfamiliar rise of the green eyed monster throughout his entire body.
Godric he hated that slimy little prick. With his stupid blonde curls and the smug little smile that Fred really wanted to slap off his face right now, regardless of his rich daddy and any consequences that would inevitably follow.
The common room was a blaze with celebration, Harry’s victory in joint first place of the first task had been wildly celebrated by each and every Gryffindor and even Ron had joined in after being such a miserable git for a month. But even with the chaos and jubilant celebration around him, as well as a decent profit they’d made on taking the bets during the task, Fred was not in the mood for a party.
Despite it being the end of November, Fred’s striped jumper and beige overcoat suddenly felt like they were suffocating him as he stared at the corner where McLaggen leaned suggestively ogling his girlfriend, reaching out to touch her arm and shifting ever closer to where she stood. He was getting hotter by the second, burning up with anger and jealousy as he looked in disgust at the slimy sod. Who did he think he was to be stood so close to Fred’s girl? They’d been together years, it was hardly like nobody knew that she was his.
But then he heard your girlish giggle and his blood seemed to run cold. You were openly laughing with him, playing with a strand of your hair and making no move to shut down his advances.
He’d had enough and was just ready to march over and make Cormac choke down a puking pastille when he watched you take off your coat, throwing it over the chair behind you and taking a step back to avoid Cormac’s over familiar hands as they reached out for you again. Fred’s heart pounded as he looked at what you were wearing so proudly, his quidditch jumper with his surname displayed right across the back. He remembered now how you’d complained of being cold just before you left to view the task and he’d nipped up to his dorm to retrieve a warm jumper for you. He knew it wasn’t the nicest sweater, there was a hole in the left armpit that had been stitched back together with a completely different coloured thread and a great big pull in the fabric on the right sleeve but you’d worn it with pride. Your face had lit up when he held it out to you and you’d tried to sneakily smell it with a cute smile before you threw it over your head, tying up your hair so you could show off his surname now displayed across your back.
Watching you now, he realised how wrong he’d been. You were inching away from McLaggen, body turned away and looking for any sign of escape, the fingers in your hair a simple mechanism to block him from reaching out to you.
Fred was on his feet in seconds, almost trampling a load of first years who were sat in the pathway as he stalked over to where you were standing, his eyes fixed upon the letters across your back.
“Weasley,” he whispers in your ear as a greeting, immediately stepping behind you and placing his hand on the curve of your bum. You jump slightly at the sudden intrusion but recover quickly as you realise it’s him behind you. Fred watched as a smirk blossomed across your face as you realised, pressing your hips back just slightly as a form of acknowledgment, backing up into his hand which he squeezed, getting a good grip of your bum.
“This looks very good on you,” he whispers again into your ear, bending down just enough so that only you could hear how deep and breathy his voice had become. He reaches out with his left hand to glide it over your hip to your waist, tugging on the fabric of the jumper just enough that you’d understand exactly what he meant.
“The jumper or the name?” You smirk, earning another squeeze of your bum for your cheekiness, both of you openly ignoring McLaggen who is still trying to talk to you.
“Both,” Fred smirks, the tip of his nose catching on your hair, his lips moving dangerously closely to the smooth skin of your neck.
“If you don’t mind McLaggen, me and the Mrs have business to attend to,” Fred says suddenly, not even looking at Cormac who briefly considers if he does mind or not, mouth opening as if he is about to protest.
Fred doesn’t even give him a chance and simply throws his right arm around your shoulders and pulls you away with a shit eating grin on his face. His hand slips back towards your bum as you’re walking away, his hand slipping into your jeans pocket as he pulls you close to him, asserting his place. He can’t help but smirk as he directs you towards the stairs to the dorms, knowing that Cormac is still watching the pair of you and he takes a sick pleasure in knowing the last thing McLaggen will see of you tonight is Fred’s hand in your jeans as he takes you to his dorm; with his surname plastered in large letters across your back. The same surname that will be yours in just a couple of years, if Fred gets his way.
Maybe he should invite Cormac to the wedding.
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alltheirdamn · 11 months ago
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DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader
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PART 2
Summary: After a summer away, you decide to pay a visit to your favorite mechanic. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, car sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, light nipple play, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), cock riding, rough sex, creampie, joel once again being irresistible and disgustingly sweet, light sprinkle of fluff, porn with no plot (kinda) A/N: I have zero self-restraint and couldn't stop thinking about mechanic!joel soo... you could say, it was so nice she had to come twice ;)
PART 1 | Masterlist | Ko-fi
It wasn’t like you were actually planning on pulling off the highway to head toward that mechanic shop… except you totally were. Summer came and went, and after a few months spent in Tallahassee, it was time to go home. You weren’t in a rush this time, though, so you could afford a quick pit stop at a small mechanic shop. Nothing needed to be fixed in your car, but maybe you’d pop a screw loose just for the hell of it.
Pulling into the familiar garage, your heart thumped in your ears as you threw the car in park and nearly ran inside. The waiting room was disappointingly empty minus a handsome man standing behind the counter…one that wasn’t Joel.
His black curls were slicked back, and with just a white tank top and flannel on, you could tell he was built just like Joel. At your sudden entrance, he glanced your way, giving the cigarette in his hand a quick flick over the ashtray on the counter he leaned on.
“Can I help you with somethin’, miss?” He asked. He had that same drawl in his voice as Joel did.
Taming down your flyaways from the humidity, you walked over to the counter with a friendly smile. You didn’t miss how his eyes did a once-over on your body.
“I was just coming through town, thought I’d stop in to say hi to Joel,” you explained.
He took another drag of his cigarette, the cherry burning at the bottom. After a long inhale, he puffed out an air of smoke, filling the space with that stinging smell of nicotine. You weren’t completely opposed to the smell, and you most definitely appreciated him blowing it to the side so that it didn’t creep up into your nose.
“Joel’s just up at the mini-mart grabbin’ some beers. M’sure he’ll be back soon,” he shrugged. “I’m Tommy by the way, his brother.”
He extended his free hand, and you met him halfway to give him a friendly handshake, introducing yourself as well. Tommy donned that same lopsided grin as Joel; it must be that Southern charm and hospitality.
“So,” he drawled. “How y’know my brother?”
You shifted your weight between legs, trying to come up with some stupid lie to explain how you did know him. Short answer: he fixed your car. Long answer: he gave you the best orgasms of your life. 
“I, uh, came through town a few months ago to get my car fixed, and—.”
“Hey, Tommy! Come help me with the beers, man!” A voice shouted from the side door.
Tommy gave you an apologetic grin, rounding the corner to meet his brother outside. You leaned against the counter, drumming your fingers against it as you waited for them to reemerge. Tommy was walking back through the door moments later, a six-pack of beers in hand and Joel in tow. 
“C’mon man, I told you no smokin’ in the damn shop,” Joel grumbled, smacking the back of Tommy’s head.
Tommy only laughed at his brother's annoyance, walking around the counter to give Joel a clear view of you standing there. As his eyes set on you, Joel stopped in his tracks, a wild grin splitting across his face.
“Well, would y’look at that,” he beamed. “If it ain’t my favorite customer.”
A warmth crept up your skin, your cheeks blushing at his words. He approached you, leaning against the counter to mimic your stance. He still wore that worn-down black t-shirt, the fabric thinned out and stretching over his muscles. You wondered how long those scratches stayed on the skin of his back after you both…
“Ohhhh,” Tommy interrupted, forcing your eyes to tear away from Joel’s. “You’re the girl that’s got my brother out $500!”
Snapping your head back to Joel, you smacked his bicep in embarrassment.
“You told him?!” You shrieked.
Joel doubled over in laughter, clutching the arm you had just whacked.
“Calm down, darlin’. I ain’t ever think I’d see you again! S’all in good fun.”
You buried your face in your hands, letting out a small groan. Of course, he’d tell his fucking brother about you; the girl that didn’t have any fucking money for a car and slept her way out of the debt. You could bet Tommy probably didn’t believe Joel when he told him the story, either.
“Aw, c’mon now babydoll,” Joel crooned, peeling your hands away from your face. “I ain’t meant no harm in tellin’ the story.”
“He hasn’t told another soul,” Tommy said. You glanced over to see him raise a hand in defense. “Scouts honor.”
You smack Joel again for good measure, eliciting a howling laugh from Tommy on the other side of the counter. 
“Tommy, I’ll close up the shop tonight,” Joel said, raising an eyebrow at his brother. “Why don’t you head out and grab Sarah for me? M’sure I’ll be back in time for the game.”
“Fuckin’ better be,” Tommy tossed back. “Ain’t tryna lose my money to you again.”
“Seems like he needs that money,” you chimed in, rolling your eyes.
This time Joel shoved at you playfully, a hearty laugh rumbling through his chest. 
“Now she’s got jokes!” He teased. 
“Ha ha very funny,” Tommy said, scooping up the six-pack into his arms. “Nice meetin’ ya miss. Don’t run up your tab too high while you’re here.”
Tommy was just as good with the jabs as you were, so you threw him a quick smile and wave before he slid out the back door and disappeared. With only Joel and you left, that nervous feeling crept back in. 
“Got another tire blown out or did y’miss me?” Joel teased.
“Don’t let your ego get too big, cowboy,” you said. “I’m just rollin’ back through town.”
“Pretty sure I’m big everywhere, babydoll, but y’already know that.”
Joel took a step towards you, twisting a strand of your hair through his fingers. You could see the midday sun reflecting in his brown eyes, making them sparkle the longer he stared. Your gaze flicked down to his lips, that pouty bottom one quipped up into a slight grin. 
“You’re just so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You laughed.
“Sure enough to know that pretty pussy is just soakin’ your underwear right now,” he drawled. 
He grabbed your hips, pinning you to his chest with an arm braced around your back. Dipping his hand between your bodies, he slid a finger over the seam of your zipper, teasing your already throbbing clit. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feather-like touch of his finger, your body aching for him.
“Fuckin’ knew it,” he whispered in your ear.
Your breath hitched as he popped open the button on your jeans and tugged down the zipper. Slipping two fingers between your skin and underwear, he drew lazy circles over your clit, watching you with rapt attention as you tried to stifle a moan.
“Mhmm,” he crooned. “Been dreamin’ ‘bout this pussy ever since you left town, darlin’.”
“Yeah?” you exhaled, rolling your hips against his fingers as they worked faster.
“Ain’t ever had my cock so wet.” Joel pressed a kiss against your neck as his fingers slid between your wet folds and teased your entrance. 
“Christ, Joel,” you exhaled. “Maybe we should take this somewhere else.”
Joel glanced around the empty waiting room and shrugged.
“No one’s here, darlin’.”
“Your shop windows are glass,” you argued. “Anyone can see us if they drive by.”
Teasing your wet folds, Joel slid a finger inside you, slowly curling it in an attempt to shut you up—which did work, unfortunately. You leaned into his broad chest, your head resting on his sternum as he continued the movement in slow strokes. 
“Joel,” you whimpered, clutching the fabric of his shirt.
“What, babydoll?” He asked innocently as if he didn’t fucking know what he was doing to you.
“Take me to the garage,” you breathed. “Please.”
“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely, darlin’.”
Pulling his hand out of your jeans, Joel bent to scoop you up, drawing your legs around his waist to carry you out of the waiting room. You wound your arms around his neck, dipping your head down to kiss along the stubble of his jawline. His hands squeezed your ass as he walked you both through the door to the garage, situating himself at the workbench. Still positioned in his lap, you wasted no time and pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed you back, his hands roaming up and down your body as you devoured one another. 
“Jesus, babydoll. Y’really did miss me, huh?” he muttered against your open mouth.
“Maybe I did, cowboy.”
Grinding your hips on his lap, you felt the strain of his cock beneath the worn-out fabric of his work jeans. Joel nipped at your bottom lip, groaning as you circled your hips harder. 
“Easy now, darlin’,” he warned. “Don’t wanna ruin my jeans like some middle school boy.”
You laughed and doubled down on your movements against his cock, each drag of your body forcing him to tense up. Joel’s hand came up to cup your breast through your bra, squeezing hard enough to make you whimper. 
“Y’gonna be a good girl for me, babydoll?” he questioned.
You snuck a glance at his face, seeing his pupils blown wide with lust. Nodding quietly, you stilled your movements and focused on the feel of his fingers pinching your hardened nipple through the fabric. Your jaw went slack as he toyed with you, coaxing humiliating sounds from your lips with each twist.
“Hmm,” he mused, leveling you with a dangerous stare. “That's how I get you to behave, huh?”
“Joel,” you whined breathlessly. 
“Use your words, babydoll.”
“I need you to fuck me,” you begged, leaning into his touch.
“Where’s those manners, darlin’?” he taunted.
Giving him the biggest pouty face you could muster, you pushed your bottom lip out and sealed the deal by batting your eyelashes at him.
“Please, cowboy?” 
Joel rolled his eyes and chuckled, bringing his hand down on your ass to deliver a sharp slap. Hoisting you back up, Joel spun your body back against the wall of the garage, shoving your shirt up as he pressed you against it. He wasted no time in dragging down your bra, ravishing your skin with kisses and bites, leaving a trail of marks down your breast and sternum. You ran your hands through his curls, feeling the humidity of the air dampen them the longer you both stayed in the garage. Neither of you seemed to mind, though; you were so wrapped up in each other there was no telling of what was happening in the outside world. 
He took your nipple between his teeth, biting it softly and rewarding your behavior with another trail of kisses back up your chest and neck. He mumbled a slew of curses under his breath as you mewled against his touch, his mouth hot against the underside of your jaw.
“Quite the mouth on you, cowboy,” you teased. 
“Y’already know what this mouth can do, darlin’. Don’t tempt me.”
“Why don’t you remind me?” you asked, a smug grin teasing your lips.
“Fuck, babydoll,” he groaned.
Setting you back down on your feet, Joel nodded towards his black truck, silently instructing you to move. With the truck bed already down, you did a little hop and shimmy onto it, settling back against the warm metal. Joel grabbed a clean towel off his workbench and stalked towards you with a devilish grin.
“Afraid to get your truck messy?” You smirked.
“I already know you’re gonna have the entire bed of it soaked in damn near a minute,” he responded.
Letting impatience get the best of you, you worked yourself out of your jeans and underwear, slingshotting it directly at Joel’s chest as he neared the edge of the truck. Catching it with one hand, he pocketed the black lace effortlessly, offering you the towel to situate yourself onto. Sliding your body into the towel, you dropped your legs open, giving Joel a perfect view to ogle at.
“Like what you see, cowboy?” You giggled, trailing your fingers down your abdomen and towards the wetness between your thighs. 
“Damn right I do, darlin’.”
Joel pressed up against the truck bed, bending over to kiss down your stomach where your hand laid against your aching clit. He brushed his lips over your fingers before drawing them into his mouth, sucking on them gently. Your breath hitched as your eyes connected, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. Joel pulled your fingers from his mouth and guided your hand through his hair.
“Give them curls a tug if y’need it, darlin’.”
Then his mouth was on you. Devouring you. Lapping at you. Every flick of his tongue sent shockwaves through your body, your veins coursing with an indescribable need to explode. Joel didn’t let up for a single second, his tongue and jaw working at you until your thighs quaked around his neck. He was pushing you closer and closer until that coil inside your stomach was ready to snap. You cried out as he flattened his tongue against your clit, putting pressure at just the right spot to make you see stars.
“Right there… oh my God, Joel,” you whispered, panting as you felt that build-up in your body begin.
With another long draw of his tongue and the brush of his nose against the sensitive bud of your clit, that coil snapped. Hot, warm liquid gushed out of you, covering the entirety of his open mouth and chin. Joel groaned as he continued lapping at you, the disgusting sound of your wet cunt drowning out the heartbeat thudding in your ears. Aftershocks of your orgasm coursed through you, your body pulsing with pleasure with each press of his mouth against you.
You tugged at his curls as he instructed, and Joel lifted his face to reveal what a dripping mess he had become. Your cheeks reddened at the sight of his hooded eyes and wild smile; the look of sheer bliss painting his features. Exhaling, you sagged against the metal of the truck, your chest rising and falling as you tried to regain some semblance of control.
“God, I sure did miss this pussy,” Joel hummed, nudging his nose against your dripping cunt. 
You squirmed against his face, too afraid another orgasm would surge through you and drench him again—which he obviously wouldn’t be opposed to. But you needed his cock buried inside you, now.
“Joel, climb up here,” you said, patting the metal beside you.
“What if I ain’t ready yet?” he argued, kissing the inside of your thighs.
“Joel,” you demanded.
“Alright, alright,” he sighed. “Don’t get all impatient on me now, darlin’.”
Hauling himself onto the truck bed, he crawled over your limp body, kissing up the side of your neck. Using what little strength you had left, you maneuvered yourself over him, flipping you both until you straddled his lap. Joel’s hands came up to your bare hips, his thick fingers squeezing and kneading the supple flesh as you rolled against his hardened cock.
“Gonna let me ride you, cowboy?” You asked.
“Fuck, darlin’,” he groaned, his eyes rolling back. “Boutta be the best ride of my goddamn life.”
Giving him a wink, you hurried to undo his belt and jeans, letting his cock spring free. Christ, you forgot how big it was. Joel chuckled at the way you stalled a moment, bucking his hips upwards in an attempt to get you moving.
“Calm down, cowboy,” you warned. “I’m gettin’ there.”
Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you positioned it at your entrance, slowly sinking down until your clit brushed against the curls at the base. Even dripping wet, you were forced to stretch around him, the fullness leaving you breathless for a moment. 
“Y’look so pretty like that, babydoll. S’fuckin full of me,” Joel hummed.
You whimpered at his words, moving your hips up and down finding the right tempo that sent you both into oblivion. The press of your knees against the metal wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but you could ignore it so long as he enjoyed himself. You picked up the pace, your body bouncing up and down as you forced his cock deeper inside you. Joel’s jaw went slack as he watched you, enraptured with the way you moved above him. Your bodies slapped together with each drop of your hips, and his fingers flexed against your waist as he pushed and pulled your body until you were grinding against him. 
“There ya’ go, babydoll,” Joel murmured. “Feel how deep I am?”
You only gave him a pathetic moan, letting his hands guide your body as you pulsed around his cock. You were so fucking full, the tip of his cock spearing up into you with each drag of your hips. Snaking a hand down your body, your fingers found your clit, drawing desperate circles as you tried to chase the orgasm threading through your muscles. 
“Fuck,” Joel groaned. “You’re just desperate to cum again, huh?”
“Yes, Joel,” you whined, putting more pressure on your clit as he drove himself deeper.
“S’fuckin’ pretty like that,” Joel exhaled. “Gonna drench me again, huh? Let’s see it, babydoll, cover me with it.”
Your mouth opened with a soundless cry, your cunt flexing around his cock as another orgasm ruptured through you, soaking your thighs and seeping into his jeans. Hauling you down against his chest, Joel positioned his knees upward, pistoning his hips against yours at a violent pace. 
“Fuck!!” You sobbed as more liquid gushed out of you, the strength of your orgasm amplified at this angle.
“Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it, c’mon,” Joel praised, his lips pressed against your ear. “Keep goin’, babydoll. I know y’can give me more.”
“I—I can’t!” You stammered.
Your orgasm wouldn’t let up, though. Joel’s cock drove into you with such force, that you continued soaking him over and over again despite your wailing protests. Joel continued praising you and talking you through each ripple of your orgasm, hushing you as you cried harder. 
“Just like that, babydoll. Shh… Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”
Joel kept a brutal pace, wrecking into you as he chased his own release. His hips snapped up one final time before he was spilling into you with a choked groan falling from his lips. 
Falling limp against his body, you stared at the sides of the truck bed with glazed eyes. Tremors still wracked through your body as you settled into his embrace, his hand rubbing soft circles over your shoulders. Craning his head to the side, Joel captured your lips in a soft kiss, his tongue dancing over yours slow and sweet. 
“Doin’ alright, babydoll?” he asked, breaking away from your lips.
You nodded mindlessly, too blissed out to form words. Nestled into his body, you let your fingers wander up his bicep and over his shoulder. Joel placed a soft kiss at the crown of your head, his muffled words lost in your hair.
“Hmm?” You asked.
“S’nothing,” he whispered. “Just enjoyed the ride, that’s all.”
You rested your head on his sternum, giving him a questioning look. 
“Sounded like you said something else,” you said, cocking a brow.
Joel huffed a laugh, his head falling back against the metal with a soft thud.
“I don’t know, darlin’. Guess I kinda like you.”
“Guess I kinda like you too, cowboy.”
Rolling off of him, you situated yourself against the side of the truck bed, resting your legs over his stomach. Joel’s hand kneaded into the tight muscles of your calves, working at the knots in your legs. His head leaned to the side to catch a glimpse at you, a smile breaking across his face.
“How long are y’staying in town?” he asked.
“I was only passing through,” you sighed.
His smile faltered a moment, that glimmer of hope flickering out in his eyes. Suddenly, the thought of leaving didn’t sound so nice.
“Why don’t y’stay the night?” he offered. “Got myself a big enough bed to sleep in, babydoll.”
“How much is it gonna cost me?” You teased, rubbing your foot over the softest part of his lower stomach.
“I’m thinkin’ a good blowjob,” he mused.
“Whatever you want, cowboy. Count me in.”
You spent a few moments in harmonious silence, basking in the circumstances’ simplicity. After a while, you found yourself climbing off the truck in search of your jeans and underwear. Joel worked his way down, too, stuffing his cock back into his pants and gathering the damp towel off the truck bed.
“You still have my underwear,” you grumbled, shaking out your jeans to slide into.
“And I’m gonna keep ‘em, darlin’,” Joel said, grabbing you by the waist to reel you in for a kiss. “Need me a lil’ souvenir.”
“You’re unbelievable,” you chuckled.
Foregoing underwear, you stuffed yourself back into your jeans and followed Joel to the passenger side of the truck, where he had the door already propped open for you. Helping you in, he reached over to secure your seatbelt, kissing your cheek softly before shutting the door and walking to the driver's side.
Turning the key in the ignition, Joel glanced over at you, his eyes roaming over your messy hair and rosy cheeks. 
“Y’sure are beautiful, babydoll. Wish I could keep ya here,” he sighed.
You rested your chin in your hand, leaning over the center console. 
“I don’t know, cowboy. Your negotiating skills are pretty damn good. Might talk me into staying with all those sweet words.”
“Oh yeah?” he perked up. “Y’know you still got a hefty bill to pay off.”
“Shit, you’re right,” you agreed. “I might have to stay a while to settle that debt.”
Joel cracked a smile, lifting up the console to haul you closer to him. Backing out of the garage, he navigated the truck onto the main road and towards wherever home was for him. Settling into his side, your fingers danced over the zipper of his pants as you waged your brows at him.
“Think I should start paying off that debt now?” You asked.
“I ain’t arguing with that, babydoll,” Joel grinned.
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kuroosatoru · 5 days ago
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all to myself - mechanic!toji nsfw oneshot
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cw: nsfw!!!, size kink, head(giving and receiving), switch!toji, dilftoji, coworker trope ig, unprotected p in v, he cleans you up ;), not proofread;-;
wc: 2k (yeahhhh it gets pretty steamy, buckle up buttercup)
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the summer heat was starting to get to you, the ac in the shop had been broken for a while now and it's not like your boss was making a point to get it fixed. you finish putting a new battery in a car as a bead of sweat crept down your face, preemptively turning around as you see toji's reflection in the silver of the hood, "are you sure you've got that? i wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, doll." he asks, poking fun at the fact you were too small to be working on cars in the first place. you laugh dryly, "seems easy enough if you can do it, does it not?" you reply, causing toji to take a step back. "hey my fault being concerned. boss wants ya though." toji says, his tone had shifted, and you couldn't help but worry that you hurt his feelings, "oh, alright. i'll head over there when in a minute." you reply. toji nods, walking away briskly.
toji was a confusing man, flirting with you one day and completely ignoring you the next. it should've turned you away from him, but if anything, it just made you more interested in the older man.
it's only here do you realize just how good the dark haired man looks in his uniform, his grease-stained coveralls tied around his waist, revealing the black tank underneath, which hugged his pecs and exposed his large arms. your mind began to wander, and toji could feel eyes on him, "it's not nice to stare, y/n!" he yells across the garage with a sly smirk. having been called out, you start to blush and turn around, unable to find something to say back to him. usually, the two of you would have kept going, but something had changed. you say your end of service spiel to the customer, lead them back to their vehicle and make your way into the bosses' office.
-
you reach the end of your shift, and now it's just you and toji closing up shop. after mopping the floor and counting the register, it's time for you to get changed out of your coveralls and head home. you open the door and start to get undressed when you hear the door open behind you, "oh! sorry i can wait." you exclaim, aware that toji needs to pick megumi up from daycare. he licks his lips, "nah, it's okay, doll. ladies first." he says, backing out of the room. you turn to lock the door, but you decide to leave it open just a crack, hopeful toji would come back or better yet, take you home with him.
you shimmy out of your uniform, and toji watches from the inviting crack in the door. unable to take his eyes away from your beautifully greasy and sweaty body, the way your panties hugged your hips made his throat dry. his mind wandering and leading him to his thick, long, cock making your stomach puff up. he decided then and there that he wanted, no, needed to be inside of you. you turn around, noticing toji,"fuhisguro! what are you doing?" you exclaim sarcastically, opening the door. "oh you don't know what you do to me, y/n." toji practically whispers, closing and finally locking the door behind him, his cock was already twitching at just the thought of finally having you to himself. despite the two of you being alone, you got excited at the potential of getting caught.
toji towered over you, his eyes now darkened with lust. you reach for his bulge and he lets out a moan so small, you swear you misheard him, "oh i think i do." you say, untying his coveralls. your fingers graze his waistband and he flinches. "is this okay?" you ask, slightly concerned you did something wrong. toji looks down at you, "you never have to ask, doll. 's just been a while." you nod, taking the tip of his member into your mouth, swirling your tongue around as he whimpers.
"fuck, y/n." he mumbles, thrusting his cock deeper into your throat, causing you to grip his muscular thighs for stability as you gag a little bit. you dig your nails in, sending chills down his spine; he grabs your hair with one hand and uses the other to wipe the sweat from his forehead. toji can barely handle it, and he lets out a moan as he finishes in your throat.
"shit, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to." he stutters out as he takes his semi-hard member out of your mouth. you smile and swallow his load, making him blush, "it's okay, toji. but what do you want to do now?" you ask with a slight smile as you stand up.
"well, doll. i gotta pick up the kid, so [...]" he trails off, grabbing a shop rag to wipe himself clean. you both put on your normal clothes and head out to your cars so you can go back to your respective homes.
-
toji could not stop thinking about you whatsoever, and while the blowjob was mind-blowing, he was stuck up on the fact that he never returned the favor. so, after dropping off gumi at his friends house, he decided to go to your place. hoping you decided to stay in for the day. toji arrives and you open the door for him, surprised to see him, "oh? what are you doing here?" you ask playfully. stepping aside to let him in, you finally get the chance to see him the way you've always iamagined.
today toji had on basketball shorts, which didn't leave much left to imagine, not that the burning image of his cock shoved into your mouth wasn't bright as day, but still. you had just gotten out of the shower when he answered, so you had on nothing but a thin robe, causing toji's mouth to water as he imagined the beautiful body underneath. "y/n, i can't stop thinking about that night." he admits to you sheepishly as you lead him to your couch.
"if you sit down, i can do it again," you reply with a smirk, patting the couch next to you. toji shakes his head, "no, doll. i wanted to taste you." he says, now standing in front of you, nudging your legs open with his knee.
"mmm, please?" he urges, taking your hand in his, getting onto his knees. you take a second to think about it, and open your legs to let him in, but not before taking a second to actually look at him. he's rugged. his black hair tousled into a sexily messy pile as his dark eyes looked into yours. you can tell he hasn't shaved in a while, his stubble starting to come back, but you decided that wouldn't be an issue. you needed this.
toji reaches his and towards your now throbbing clit, "oh you're so wet for me, doll," he smirks, finally touching you as you moan in respose. his large digits slide into you as he runs his tongue along your folds, he smiles to himself when he feels you tightening around his fingers. seeing how you moved your hips to have more of him was causing a tent to form in his shorts and he groans against you as he gently takes your clit into his mouth, and you can feel your legs tremble already. you can feel yourself about to finish, and toji can too. your wanton moans filled the room as he kept eating you out.
and then he stops, taking his fingers out of you and putting them into his mouth to suck them clean. "tojiiii," you whine in response, "i wasn't done yet." he smirks at you, any part of his personailty now taken over by lust. he leans forward to kiss you, "im sorry, but i need to be inside of you, doll." he says. as he takes his shorts off to reveal his member, you see the precum leaking from the tip.
he places his fingers on your lips, "open up, pretty girl, i want you to tatse youself too." he commands, and as you suck on his digits, he lets out a loud moan, "mmm, that's a good girl."
toji takes his fingers out of your mouth and uses your spit to lubricate himself, the tip of his dick now positioned at your entrance, begging to be let in. you nod at him, "go ahead, i can take it."
toji is big, much bigger than you've ever had, your face twists in a slight discomfort as you feel yourself stretch around him, "oh you poor thing, not used to having a real man eh?" toji remarks, starting his routine of gentle, short strokes into you. if we're being honest, you weren't 'used to' anything toji did, his deceiving demeanor constantly surprising you.
you wrap your legs around toji as he starts to speed up his thrusts, his long cock poking at your g-spot as you dig your nails into his back.
toji felt the knot in the pit of this stomach tighten as his thrusts got rougher, the rhythm he once had being taken away by how intoxicating your pussy was to him. he buries his face in your neck and leaves bite marks trailing down to your shoulder, "y/n," he warned, "i'm close." maybe he didn't mind having another kid he thought to himself as he saw your face contorting to reflect the intense pleasure his body brought you, "mmmh, too." you mumble, his cock causing you to lose all sense of self as your legs push yourself away from him in a futile attempt to move.
"nuh-uh, doll. no running away this time," toji whispers as he pulls you back to him. now, he's bottomed out, the tip of his member making a clear bump towards the bottom of your stomach. you look down at the symphony of squelching the two of you are making and you cum around toji, gripping his shoulders to stop yourself from ascending to the heavens as your vision turns white. toji grips your hips and proceeds to use you to finish himself off, and you can't say you hated being his toy.
"oh holy shit, y/n. you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, look at you, taking it like a good girl." toji says with a whimper as he finishes inside of you. he doesn't pull out right away, in fact, he never wants this moment to end. with your face contorted in pleasure as your sweet pussy was still gripping him, he thinks to himself maybe i don't mind having another kid.
the puzzle the two of you were entangled in dissipated as the grip you had on toji got exceedingly weaker. your legs fall, letting him pull out. the mixture of your fluids soon started to fall from your legs and as you reach for something to clean yourself up with, he stops you. "i want to do it," he says eagerly, your brain unable to decipher what he meant after toji had you reach your limit just now. "okay, but you have to be gentle," you reply sheepishly, willing to take yourself as far as toji would help you along the way. he grins, excited that you're willing to be his toy.
toji gets back into his well-earned spot in-between your legs, your pussy slightly red from the fun he had just had with you. he blows a cold breath onto you, causing you to flinch in excitement. he kisses your entrance before sticking his tongue inside of you, swirling it in circles just how you did when you started this whole thing. you throw your head back against the couch you honestly forgot you were on and scream, "oh god toji, p-please don't stop." your eyes meet as he starts to rub your clit with his thumb.
"oh don't worry, doll. you're my new favorite toy," he says without taking his mouth off of you. you're barely holding on and you know you should've been done a long time ago, but who would've known toji had this much in him? who could've thought he'd have so much of himself in you?
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notes: sorry if it's rough! but wow oh wow has this been something ive thought of a lot. i hope you enjoyed xoxo - jib
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