#two bedroom seems to be the limit

[lymtw]

Know You're Enough

Toji can't ignore the sounds of your moans and whimpers through the wall. He's sitting on the couch, in the living room, unable to do anything about it, because you're still mad at him, and he's frustrated as hell, because he's so painfully hard, that he can see his dick twitching against the front of his sweats. He refuses to take care of it himself when he knows you're only a room away. To his convenience, you're already in the mood—clearly—but to his inconvenience, you're punishing him. You're scattering his name into your moans to throw salt in the wound, to really make it unbearable, and truthfully, it's getting to him.

Toji reached his limit when he heard you let out a sharp gasp, followed by the sound of those cries you let out when you cum hard. He strides over to your shared bedroom, opening the door to reveal your naked lower body, and your tank top scrunched up over your chest. His breath hitches, the throbbing in his pants intensifying as he rakes his eyes over your frame and absorbs the entire sight of you.

"You're really gonna get yourself off to the thought of me, when i'm right outside?" His incredulous tone doesn't do a good job of hiding the desperation that led him to barge into the room where you're splayed out so indecently.

"Mhm..." you hum, blissfully. You release a heavy, satisfied sigh. "That's exactly what I just did, 'cause you're on a time out," you say, tugging your shirt back down and pulling up your underwear, before sitting up to search for your shorts. "Don't worry. I finished. I'm done torturing you."

He can't let it be over. This normally wouldn't be enough to satisfy you. From what he heard, it seems like you only came once.

"Baby, no," he almost whines. He's outwardly desperate for you, having gone way too long without being allowed to touch you intimately. "Let me. Please," he says, climbing onto the bed. His hands make contact with the skin of your bare legs and glide over the length of your shins, continuing their way up to part your thighs to make room for him to wedge himself between them.

"I did what you asked of me. Said I was sorry and repeated after you to call myself dumb." It was such a silly moment that made the storm in your mind subside for a minute or two.

Toji resists the urge to smile when he sees you suppressing the curl of your own lips. His hands go to your waist, not stopping there. The warmth of his palms travels up your edges, meeting the sides of your breasts and briefly palming the tops of them, in order to get to your shoulders. He grips your shoulders, using them as leverage to guide you back down to the bed. Focus is embedded into his features as he takes the thin material of your shirt between his rough fingertips and peels it off your skin until he reveals the gorgeous view of one of his favorite parts of your body.

Like a domestic cat, he lays his body on you, and plants his face between your breasts. It doesn't take long for him to begin appreciating your chest, pressing multiple slow kisses to your skin. He's basking in the softness you withheld from him.

"What else do you want from me, doll?"

You let out a small, quiet sigh, through your nose. You feel a little irritated with yourself for not even putting up a fight against his affection. You always say you're not going to let him touch you for a certain amount of time, as punishment for the dumb things he does, and yet somehow it always ends up this way—him nuzzling into your chest.

"I want you to stop being a jealous maniac," you say, the words coming out softer than you intended them to, as you welcome defeat and run your fingers through his soft, dark locks.

"Mm-mm, anything but that," he responds, muffled by your warm skin. His hands caress your body, rubbing your waist and massaging your hips in a manner that would induce relaxation under different circumstances. You can't let yourself fall into that comfort until you've talked things out.

"Toji, you flashed your gun at someone who mistook me for somebody else." You attempt to keep yourself composed in order to communicate the issue efficiently. There's no need to raise your voice when you have him right there, lying comfortably on your chest.

"Mhm, I did that," Toji confirms, before planting a soft kiss on the inner side of your right breast. "The dickwad must have been real blind if he had to get so close." He feels your chest rise with a deep inhale, then hears you let out the breath. With that, he knows you're still upset and he has to further elaborate on his actions. "He had his filthy paws on you and everything. I did what I thought was best to get him to fuck off."

You hum in mere acknowledgment. "Uh-huh, that's definitely the way to go about it. God forbid you verbalize your discomfort before threatening to use a bullet."

You feel a warm puff of air on your chest, similar to the sigh you let out, but less audible, and then a kiss directly between your breasts.

"I was right next to you, ma. He was looking at you in a way that he shouldn't have been. He looked at you the same way that I look at you. You don't need that from anyone else. And that stupid ass thing he said about supposedly feeling like he's seen you somewhere? He clearly said it to get a good look at you from up close."

"You really are insane, aren't you?" You ask, rhetorically, stilling the hand that's on the back of his head.

"Doll, I hate the idea of pulling the gun out in front of you. I don't ever wanna have to use it and scare you in the process, but he was actively trying to steal you from me. If he were just ogling you from afar, I might've acted differently, but he touched you. He fucking touched you. Who does shit like that?"

Toji can feel his blood boiling again, so he refocuses on your chest. He doesn't want to think about what happened anymore, when he's in his happy place, where he knows he belongs.

"Alright, Toji. Take a deep breath." You softened your voice to simmer down his emotions. You resumed the movement of your fingers carding through his hair, aiding him in calming down more.

He does as you say and releases a heavy breath. It's riddled with his discontented feelings. "You're supposed to be mine," he mumbles, before finally latching his lips around your nipple.

Toji needs reassurance, too. Him being an attractive, enormous, hulking man, has nothing to do with how secure he feels around you, his lover. It's easy to think that because he manages to turn heads wherever he goes, that he'll be fine when you get those same reactions, but the way you have him now, is proof that insecurity can reach even him. He needs to know that he's not going to lose you so easily, especially to someone as ridiculous as the man who managed to unsettle him.

You look down at him as he takes all the comfort he needs from your chest. "I'm all yours, Toji. You're the only one who will ever get a pass for that kind of psychotic behavior."

He hums, releasing your breast, before resting the side of his face down on your chest. "You make it sound like i'm toxic towards you."

Your chest jumps as you laugh, a gesture that makes Toji lift his gaze to look at you. Your expression managed to make him lighten up a little more.

"You're crazy, but I love you, regardless."

He groans, the sound cushioned by your soft skin. You're the one thing that holds up his sanity, yet somehow you're also the one who tests it by saying things like that to him.

"Let me have you," he says, his kisses beginning to trail up, towards your neck. "Please, let me have you, mama."

"Are you gonna keep threatening people when you get jealous?" You ask, your lips curling as be continues to kiss your delicate skin.

"Mhm," he confirms. "Like I said and you said," he speaks, into your neck, "you're mine. If people don't know it, i'll make sure they get it on the first go. There's no need to make mistakes."

You laugh. "Your possessiveness is intense."

"You're not a joke, to me," he says, looking at you. His expression is as serious as what he just said.

You grab the rolled up fabric of your shirt, with the intention of covering yourself. The ambience has gone more serious and it feels wrong to be so exposed in the moment.

"Don't cover yourself, yet. I want you, baby. Please." His knuckles graze your cheek, affectionately. Despite your chest being out on full display, his attention is centered on your face. He's reading your expression. You were laughing a few seconds ago and now you're as still as him.

"Be nice to me. I don't want you to be rough, this time." It's back to back gentleness with the way your voice reaches him and your smile manages to soothe the remaining sting he's feeling. It's like you're showing him the way you want him to handle you. "I'm yours, Toji. No amount of speed or aggression from your body against mine, will have an impact on the fact. Okay?"

He keeps his eyes on you for a couple more seconds, like he's letting your words sink in and fully envelop him. He repositions his hand, so that he's cupping your cheek, and a couple slow strokes of his thumb against your skin gave him the courage to lean down and kiss you. The second his lips meet yours, he wants more. Infinitely more. He's chasing kiss after kiss from you, utterly drunk on the feeling of your hands pulling him closer by his shirt. He'll consume you, at this point.

"Hm?" You hum, still awaiting his response.

"Got it, baby," he says, before connecting his lips to yours once more. He peppers the rest of your face with kisses, luring giggles from you at the barrage of affection.

This isn't the first time Toji has been revoked of his 'you privileges', and gotten them back, instantly. This has occurred many times in the years that you've been together. Going into a relationship with him, you never thought he'd be the jealous type, much less the type who would threaten someone's life over getting overly cozy with you. The first time he pulled something similar to this, it was a little frightening. You knew he kept a gun on him sometimes, but you figured it was strictly for life or death situations.

You were wrong.

Some weirdo was getting too comfortable with you, hand wrapped around your wrist and all. You clearly remember Toji being visibly bothered, because someone thought they could just swoop in and steal your focus from him. He watched for a minute or two as the man took in your beauty and complimented you on every aspect of your appearance. He really did his best to get you to follow him to his table, and though Toji thought the whole thing was a pathetic attempt, he couldn't help the feelings that began to bubble up as the man squeezed your arm. Toji did a dog whistle to grab the man's attention, and when he looked, he lifted his shirt, just enough to show the grip of his gun. Your stomach twisted and you felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The stranger just stood there for a second, looking at Toji, condescendingly, as if to insinuate that he knew he was bluffing, and when Toji reached for and grabbed ahold of the gun's handle, that same cocky man paled. He didn't even have to pull out the whole gun—the man had walked away by the time he had the grip in his hand— but you remained worried that he would notify someone about what happened, so you and Toji left.

To this day, Toji still scares people that way when he notices them invading your space in a manner that doesn't sit right with him. You're not scared anymore, when he does it, but the frustration of having to ditch wherever you are, in fear of being ratted out by whoever Toji threatened? It's still there, and you feel it every time. You know he does it out of love for you, but sometimes you wish he would take a second to talk to you, before he even thinks of hurting someone.

Toji has kissed your entire torso, by now. Your chest wasn't exempt from his attention, despite the amount of time he already spent on it. If anything, he refined the love he gave it with purposeful movement and significance towards every spot his lips brushed.

He nears your lower abdomen, wet kisses placed beneath your navel, going lower and lower until you can feel his breath being filtered through the front of your underwear. His hands go beneath the elastic band, cupping your hips without restriction as he kisses your clothed pelvis.

Your breathing picks up the slightest bit when his lips meet your slit through the thin layer. His tongue comes out and he does an experimental swipe of it against the fabric. You feel the space immediately heat up, from your arousal and from the warm wetness of his tongue, itself.

"Stay still for me, mama," he murmurs, kissing your inner thighs after spotting the quiver in them. "You nervous?" He asks, with a small curl of his lips.

"Of course, I am." You look into his eyes as you confirm it. You love him so dearly, that even after the years you've spent together, you still feel lightning coursing through you when he has you this way. This electric feeling doesn't prevent you from letting yourself enjoy what he gives you, nor does it hinder you from touching him and making him feel good. You don't become more hesitant towards him, because by now, you're well aware that your love for him coexists with butterflies. They reside in you, and are able to be lured out by him at any instant, despite your knowledge of the fact that he would gladly be someone's cause of death if they don't keep themselves in check around you.

"Love you," he says, kneading your hips as he leans in to press a few more warm kisses to your thinly veiled cunt. His eyes dart up to your face when you don't respond—he's a little lost on why you didn't say it back— until he sees how despite the way you just admitted to your nerves, he has you entirely at ease. You have a hand flat on the sheets, occasionally moving against the material beneath it, while your other hand rests on your stomach. Your chest is steady and your attention is on the ceiling, your expression serene—ethereally so.

His hands run down your hips, warm palms squeeze and feel up your thighs, gaining your eyes on him again. "You're not gonna say it back?" He asks, his voice deep enough to make the ache between your legs just that much more intense.

"You already know I do," you say, contrasting his demeanor with a giggle. He looks like a needy puppy with that glint that presents itself in his eyes.

"Mhm, doesn't mean I don't wanna hear it, again, or do you not love me, right now?"

You're caught by surprise with that one, a small, almost inaudible gasp, leaving you at the words. "I love you all the time, Toji. I love you now and I loved you earlier when I was pissed. It's not going away."

He's a little more impatient for you, now. His movement doesn't speed up, but his heartbeat is in his ears, and there's a tremble in his hands as he reaches for the elastic of your underwear. He pulls the garment down, wanting to smell and taste you more clearly. His cock jumps at the sight revealed. You're still so wet. He lets out a shuddered breath, now that your lower half is completely bared for him. His mouth comes closer and closer and his tongue comes out, making contact with your throbbing cunt for the first time.

"Toji." The sound is soft—unexaggerated—as his tongue laps at your warmth, tasting the sweet wetness that coats it. He could stay like this for hours, worshipping your entire body, while you touch him and gift him the prettiest sounds ever. He can't get enough of you, which is why when it looks like you're going to close your legs, he pins them down, entirely. His hands splay over your thighs and he keeps them there, because he isn't going to fight to give you the pleasure you deserve. He'll love on you until your body is begging him to stop, because he knows that your mouth can be misleading, at times.

He's taking it slow, just like you wanted him to. The most stimulation comes from him lightly sucking on your clit for brief moments at a time, just to hear your moans get the slightest bit louder. Every time he releases your sensitive pearl, he goes back to running his tongue through your drooling slit, the tip of the muscle nudging your clit, causing it to throb with need. Each graze of the wet warmth, makes you wonder if you should ask him to go faster, though you were the one who asked for this gentleness. You don't want to seem indecisive or come off as doubtful that he can make you cum this way. You know he can, but god, you want so much more. You feel like you're the one who's going insane with every flick of his tongue.

"That good, mama? Or do you want it slower?" He gives you a teasing smirk. Toji knows how you are. You say you want him to be soft and gentle with you, but when the time comes, you want more than what's given to you. You delve into greediness as seconds turn to minutes. You both have nowhere to be. Time is yours, and Toji intends to take advantage of that. He's going to fulfill your needs the way you want him to, but that doesn't mean he loses awareness of your little ticks. He feels the small twitches of your legs beneath his hands every time you feel his nose bump into your clit just before it gets hit by his tongue. He sees the way your hips sink into the mattress and your body quivers when they rise, again.

"G-Good. Don't go any slower," you respond, holding your voice as steady as possible.

"Mm... Faster?" He asks, his tone so calm yet sultry, that you can't tell if he's patronizing you. He doesn't miss the way light flashes, briefly, through your features. In an instant, you regain your composure. A simple hum is offered in response—a wordless brush off of his suggestion. The sound makes Toji smirk. How stubborn of you.

"I won't hold it against you," he says, pressing a kiss to the crease that joins your pelvis and your thigh, leaving an echoing feeling of need in your core. "Just say the word, ma." He presses more kisses to your skin, as if he's trying to persuade you to let him devour you.

"Mm-mm, this is good."

It's not what he's trying to get out of you, but he can keep going until you're hanging on by a measly thread.

He continues on with that same pace—licking, suckling, prodding—so gently, luring the cutest little mewls from you. It took a little longer, but eventually, your body started trembling with impending release.

"I'm gonna- Toji," you cry, tightening your fists around the sheets as he slowly circles his tongue over your clit, focusing on it entirely. Your moans grow needier and needier as you near the edge through such delicateness. The anticipation is killing him. He wants you to be louder. You wouldn't hate him for bringing you more pleasure, would you? It's a risk he's willing to take.

Without another doubt, he's messily making out with your cunt, causing more of your sweet nectar to drool out at a more rapid pace. Your breath hitches, a sharper rendition of his name cried out. Your hand reaches downward and grabs a fistful of his hair, tugging on it as he continues to ravage you. Your moans sound absolutely filthy. He doesn't detach his mouth from you for a single second. His hands finally release their pin on your thighs, allowing you to fully suffocate him when they shut around his head. His arms hook around your thighs, a harsh grip on them to keep you from scooting away from his relentless mouth when you cum. It's another strong, orgasm, that has you arching your back off the mattress and squirming as he continues devouring you through the intense sensation. Your hips roll in an attempt to get more of his mouth on you. Only when you start whimpering and attempting to twist out of his hold, does he ease up. He goes back to the original pace, soft kitten licks through your slit to lap up every drop of your sweetness, earning small twitches from your body, due to the sensitivity you feel.

You release the hold you have on his hair and relax your legs, unbending them and letting them fall comfortably on the bed. He finishes you off with a few kisses, thin strings of his saliva and your cum sticking to his lips, before snapping every time he loses contact with your cunt. His warm palms caress your thighs—a comforting gesture, as your sounds come to a halt and all that is heard is your breathing.

"You're so impatient," you playfully chide, a breathy laugh following.

"You wanted more," he responds, one more kiss placed on you before he licks his lips clean. "I'm really good at reading you."

"Yeah? You think so?" You ask, a teasing grin on your face.

"I know so," he responds. "Wouldn't it just be the worst if we've been together this long, and I didn't know almost everything about you, by now?" He repositions himself, now sitting on his knees to start ridding himself of his own clothes.

You manage a hum and a nod as you watch Toji pull off his shirt.

"Good thing that's not the case, and I do know basically everything about you. Down to the way your body reacts to me— the signals you create that let me know you're gonna cum all over my tongue, when your pretty mouth can't form words."

"So vulgar," you say, through flustered giggles.

"You can take it, mama," he teases, a smirk growing on his lips as you watch him pull off his sweats. His eyes stay on yours, as he kicks them off, letting them slide off the bed and onto the floor, before crawling back between your legs. You can feel his clothed hard-on pressing against your core as he takes your lips in his again. He's addicted to the feeling of your warm body against his.

His hands come down to cup your waist, his fingers molding into the soft flesh with every squeeze they offer. He pauses the make out, small breaths leaving him.

"Baby," he says, his voice almost a whisper, his lustfully darkened eyes narrowed on your starry ones. "I'm gonna kill the next person who hits on you in front of me." He goes back in for a few more quick kisses. "I'm not joking. I can't keep sparing them."

"Shh... All yours, Toji," you murmur, softly, pulling him back in to continue the flow of kisses. Your hand goes to the nape of his neck, the other settles on his shoulder. You hear him groaning quietly into the kisses as he continues grinding his hips into yours.

"Fuck, doll," he groans, pausing his lips on yours once again. "I need you."

You laugh, a warm sound that just adds on to his desire to have you. "So, take me, baby. I'm ready for you."

He gives you one more peck, the slyest smirk playing on his lips as he watches you lean forward for another one, only to be met with nothing.

"Ass," you grumble, playfully shoving his chest.

He chuckles, a deep rumble of a sound as he sits back to remove his boxers. He's not even ashamed of the mess of precum that accumulated in them. If anything, he's surprised he was able to hold in his load this entire time. Pleasantly surprised, because every drop will go to you, as always.

One minute you're sitting up to fully remove your shirt, pulling it up over your head, the next, in what seems like a flash, you're pushed back onto the bed, hands pinned above your head.

You giggle, looking up at him with a lingering smile. "Gentle."

"Mhm," he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck. "So gentle." Two misleading words that don't prepare you for the sensation of his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck.

Your bubbly laughter homes into his ears when his tongue runs over the indentations, luring a huff of a laugh from him.

You feel his cock run through your slick folds, his hips moving back and forth, slowly. Quiet breaths fill the silence that takes over the intimate moment. Toji runs his length through your slit one more time, before finally pushing his tip in. You gasp, feeling his cock begin to drive into you.

"F-Fuck, baby, let me touch you."

"In a minute." He sounds so calm and collected, but you can feel the grip he has on your wrists tighten and the bluntness of his nails pressing into your skin.

"No. Please."

"In a minute," he repeats.

"Pretty please?"

"You're so conflicting, mama. Love that you're begging, but at the same time, you're not listening." His hips draw back and thrust right back into you, his cock filling you up entirely, again.

"Oh fuck. Okay. Please, Toji," you whine.

Toji hums dismissively and picks up a rhythm that manages to get you to stop thinking about your pinned wrists. He lures soft, little moans out of you, listening closely as he plants warm, wet kisses on the side of your face, from your temple to your jaw.

"Just let me be good to you, baby. Alright?"

You hum, nodding your head.

"Yes?"

"Please, yes."

His thrusts become even more precise as he focuses on bringing pleasure to both of you, deep groans and grunts blending together with your higher pitched moans. A few minutes pass and you feel the pressure on your arms ease up, your hands free to roam without restriction. The first thing you do is cup his jaw and bring him in for breathy kisses. You keep your hands on his face and he lets you turn his head in every which way to cover him with kisses. Your affection is intoxicating, and he can't get enough of it. He lets out a breathy laugh when you practically have a make out session with the scar on his lips, your melodic sounds of pleasure released against the strike as he continues to fuck into you. The last kiss you leave on the cicatrix is a big one. One that makes the obnoxious kissy sound and everything. He swipes his tongue over his scar, as if he's trying to catch remnants of the sugar you coated it with.

"Love you," you say, eyes darting over his handsome features and the lovestruck expression they create. You feel the way his hips stutter against you, his abs tensing with restraint before he recomposes himself. You glide your hands up and down his arms and repeat yourself for him. "Love you so much, Toji. I'm yours."

"Fuck— I fucking love you. You're all mine. My baby." He mutters more inaudible curses under his breath, his grip on your waist getting harsher and his thrusts growing quicker, with every sweet confirmation you offer. You whimper, nails digging into his biceps as you withstand the feeling of his cock relentlessly brushing that spot within you that makes you melt beneath him.

"Oh fuck, i'm close." He groans, feeling the way your walls spasm around him at the words. "Yeahhh, you want it, huh, baby? Want my cum?"

A shaky breath leaves you, your face observed up close and personal by Toji, through lust-brimmed, enamored, obsessed eyes. You squirm under all of him— his zoned in attention on you, his touch, his hot, tacky skin, his cock buried inside you—dragging in and out of your soft walls, in a manner that has your toes curling to the brink of actual pain. His fingers find your clit and rub it in rapid circular motions, causing your body to jolt at the sudden intensity of the enhanced pleasure.

You look up at him with your sparkling eyes. "Please... P-Please, Toji? I want it. Want you," you utter, as he brings you closer to your own orgasm.

"Fuck, okay. Okay, baby, gonna give it all to you." His hips pick up their pace a little more and he buries his face into your neck. You can hear the string of grunts and shuddered breaths that pair with his unraveling, right beneath your ear. Deep moans and pants flow past his lips, and his nails begin to leave crescent shapes on your sides. You feel his hot breath on your neck, the open mouthed puffs of air accompanied by the lewd sounds of him filling you with his warm, creamy cum. As he continues rutting into you, riding out every second of his orgasm and then some to get every last drop of his cum into you, he bites your delicate skin, the placement only a few centimeters above where he bit you the first time. He stays there for a few seconds, breathing heavily through his mouth and nose, before he loosens his bite, the gesture transitioning to sloppy kisses over the wet, saliva-coated indentations.

"Cum, doll," Toji mutters, feeling the way your cunt flutters around him when his fingers relocate your throbbing bundle of nerves. Your head sinks back into the pillow, allowing him to drag his kisses up the column of your neck, to feel the vibration of your sounds beneath his lips. Your nails go to his shoulders, dragging across the toned area of muscles, surely leaving behind some scratches. You cry out in utter bliss, your force of an orgasm echoing through your entire being. "There you go, mama," Toji purrs, in response to your body releasing the tension that came with the intensity of your pleasure. You tremble, your small, rapid whimpers and breaths evolving into full blown, unholy moans. "So, so pretty," he drawls out, engraving yet another one of your euphoric expressions into his memory. His fingers leave your clit, and his hips slow down to the point of merely grinding into you, to lure those final little whines out, before stilling entirely.

You shut your eyes to focus on calming your heaving chest for a few seconds, and when you open them again, you have the prettiest pair of green eyes staring down at you. You give Toji a lazy smile and a laugh, a sight that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. His heart races as he absorbs the visuals of your post-orgasm haze. Your luminous eyes devour him, that little satisfied smirk on your face is everything— god, he loves that you laugh even more at the way he can't stop staring at you.

Just like that, Toji is reminded of what got this sight revoked from him in the first place. He still doesn't feel like he's in the wrong for wanting to murder anyone who has far from just friendly intentions with you, but as you caress his face and hold his gaze with that tender look in your eyes, his desire to kill those who openly lust after you, becomes entirely justified in his mind. He's lost all reason to hold back. There's no longer any part of him that would feel remorse or guilt, even if you can't look him in the eyes for days after the matter. He'll grovel as much as he has to, to get you to give him your eyes, again. You'll just have to agree to disagree on this, because yes, you come home to him, you sleep in the same bed as him, you kiss and hold him, the body concealed by your clothes is a secret between you and him, you get tangled up in sheets with him and the lot of it— but he can't risk losing you to someone who's possibly better than him and searching for all the exact things you have to offer. You're for him, as he is for you.

Toji doesn't care how clingy he appears when you finish getting cleaned up and ready for bed. You carelessly toss yourself onto the mattress and pull the blanket over your body while you wait for Toji, who took the steps and walked around the bed to make it to his side. He finds your body beneath the covers and immediately rolls on top of you, adhering himself to you, again. His head rests on your chest, his arms wrapped tight around your body.

You're already prepared to give him the intimate aftercare that comes with days like this. You don't mind that he's heavy and that he's crushing you or that he's taking up all your space, again, after having been so close to you a little while ago. You'll do this as many times as you need to for him to understand that he's wanted and loved by you.

You press a kiss to the top of his head, and murmur a quiet 'love you'. Your fingers run through his damp hair, your nails gently scratching the back of his head, while your other hand rubs his back. You feel the extra warm skin of his shoulders, where you paid no mind to the pressure your nails applied on it, earlier.

"Does that hurt?" You ask, lightly tracing a couple of the mildly inflamed lines. He hums in denial, but you let up, anyway, and continue to just rub his back.

He groans quietly at your soothing touch, nuzzling further into you. "I'm yours, too, ma. All yours," he mumbles. "I don't want anyone else and I don't wanna see you with anyone else."

You smile softly at his admission. "You're more than enough for me, Toji. There's no one I want more than you— no, there's no one I want other than you," you correct. "You know how much I love you?"

"Mm... How much?" He asks, waiting for you to give him a number or even just an elongated 'so much', but instead, you surprise him with:

"I wouldn't be able to tell you."

He chuckles. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. If you want something accurate, I'll never shut up."

"Good thing I like when you talk my ear off. You wanna give me an inaccurate idea of how much?"

You hum like you're in thought, a giggle following when he pinches your waist, encouraging you to tell him. "I love you a lot, Toji. So much more than I will ever be able to say or show. We would have to conjoin our minds for you to understand exactly how much I love you, but even then, once our minds separate, your estimate will be entirely off again."

He lifts his head off your chest, and waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. The moonlight seeping through the spaces between the curtains is the only source of light that allows him to get a mediocre view of you. "That's inaccurate?" He asks, looking at you with clear disbelief when his eyes finally adjust. You nod, smiling through the warmth that spread on your cheeks. "Now, I wanna know how much you love me, with complete accuracy. I have all the time in the world to listen to you, baby. Just keep talking to me." He presses a kiss to your cheek before lying back down on your chest and wrapping his arms around you, again.

You hugged him as tight as you could for a few seconds. The sound of you straining yourself made him laugh, because not only did he not let out a single groan, but you tired yourself out even more. You rested your arms on his back and just shut your eyes. It was the warmth and weight of his body on you, the feeling of his arms keeping you firmly against him, the security, that managed to lull you to sleep. Toji dozing off was simpler than that, because all he needs to be able to sleep soundly, is for you to be around.

[17020]

first kisses with okarun, momo, & jiji are slightly different.

okarun's first kiss is actually him acting on impulse and quickly pecking your lips goodbye, walking away before he can even process what happened and he falls to the floor in confusion and utter shock. when he tries to kiss you again a few weeks later, his eyes are shut close and his lips are puckered. he waits until you close the gap between you and him, and you can feel how hard he's puckering his lips.

okarun needs guidance, as he was hit with a 2 in 1: no knowledge, and no practice. your first kisses with okarun are about learning the basics, as well as getting comfortable with each other. when you finally kiss him with all your might, you breathe out one word: ken. he never knew that hearing his own name after months of not doing so could feel so good, especially since it rolled off your tongue so naturally.

momo is very eager. when she notices you're leaning in to kiss her, her eyes flutter shut and so do yours. however, you weren't really expecting your puckered lips meeting her open mouth. from all the media she's consumed and previous (but limited) experience, momo really seemed to dig the french. when she notices the clear miscommunication between you and her, she apologizes and laughs it off before kissing you nice and slow.

second time's where she goes all out, asking you to recreate some of her favorite scenes in movies she watched as a child. your first kisses with momo are all about experimentation, dabbling in what both you and her like, as well as finding out which ways you can kiss her best with seiko kicking her bedroom door open every five minutes.

jiji's kisses are short, sweet and fun. his first kiss with you is him practicing his silly faces while getting closer and closer to you every time his expression changes, until he leans in and places a sweet kiss on your lips. jiji's kisses are all about being playful, so at the start of your relationship, he never asks for a kiss directly. you have to deal with his many games, each one ending in his lips locking with yours. he also takes advantage of treats like ice cream and fries to kiss you at first, or even cliche snacks like pocky.

his second kiss with you happens when he asks you to share a can of ginger ale with two straws, asking you to lean down to drink from it at the same time as he does, with him pulling the can down and pecking your lips in return. jiji likes to make you work for his kisses, even if the tedious 'work' is just indulging him with his savory and sweet quests.

(new & open) taglist: @stunies @okkotsushi @moon-cakiie @maruflix @nyxypoo @littleplantfreak @heartkaji @vinomino please keep in mind that if you filled the old taglist with all the series i’ll most likely tag you in everything i post 🪷 if you have the time , please fill the new form. sorry for the inconvenience!

[thesquidgame]

Calm Before the Storm

Hwang Jun-ho x wife!reader

Summary: After your husband's disappearance, he starts to act different.

Warning: Angst, disappearance, gunshot wound, head injury, hospitals, mention of death, marital conflict, mention of divorce, guns

6k words

The worst day of your life happened after one of your husband’s work trips. He said that his team had gotten a lead on what might have happened to his brother and that he had to investigate. That was par for the course, every couple months there would be another potential lead on where your brother-in-law could be, but every couple months Jun-ho would be sorely disappointed. 

This time was different. He said he would be gone for a couple of days, and that he didn’t know if he would be able to get in contact. He left for one day, and then two, then more. His department panicked, apparently, it wasn’t a work trip and one of their detectives went missing. After a week his picture was on the nightly news, and after 10 days you were doing interviews begging for anyone who had any information to step forward. His mother came to sleep at your apartment, and she said she just wanted to help out with her daughter-in-law, but you could hear her sobs in the middle of the night through the thin walls between your bedroom and the guest room. 

At 5 AM, a week after Jun-ho’s disappearance, you got a call. They had found him. He was in a specialized emergency hospital on the outskirts of Seoul, and he was in a coma. You rushed to your car with your mother-in-law and broke speed limits that Jun-ho would never let you break when he was in the car with you. 

The hospital parking lot was nearly empty. The lobby was quiet when you walked in, and the front desk woman almost looked shocked when she saw two women with deep circles under their eyes and hair sticking in every direction. Honestly, you couldn’t care less. She was the receptionist at a hospital, if that was the craziest thing she’d seen she was in for a rude awakening when an actual patient came up to her desk.

She quickly directed you to his hotel room, on the 3rd floor, where his supervisor was already waiting. Time seemed to slow down as you rode the elevator. It couldn’t have taken longer than 20 seconds, but it felt like years. What if he was dying? What if he didn’t wake up? What if he was getting worse? Your thoughts kept racing, and you and Jun-ho’s mother couldn’t share a single word between the two of you between all of the panic going on inside your heads.

The floor was so quiet you could hear the squeak of a nurse’s shoes down the hallway. You should’ve run to your husband's bedside, but you couldn’t. You took one step at a time, terrified of what might await you. His supervisor stepped out the door and closed it. He looked at you with tired eyes. “Mrs. Hwang, Mrs. Park, I’m glad you could make it.”

“How’s my husband?” Formalities could wait. Formalities could go to hell.

He sighed, and your heart skipped several beats. “How is he?!” Jun-ho’s mother yelled. 

“He’s okay, he seems to be mostly stable, but I-” He raised his hand and scratched the back of his head, looking away at the ground, “I gotta be honest. He’s not great. He was shot and fell from a high distance into water. He passed out in the water and the doctors think he breathed in water and fell unconscious. They’re not sure of the extent of brain damage because he hasn’t woken up, but the lack of oxygen to his brain likely caused some sort of impact. There’s more, but they would only tell me the basics because I’m not family.”

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. What if he didn’t wake up? What if he did and he wasn’t the same? Memories of the last night you spent together raced through your head. It had been a long exhausting day, and he somehow knew how terrible it had been. He brought takeout home and made an extra stop to get your favorite dessert from a bakery. He set the food down on the kitchen table and immediately made his way to you on the couch, leaned down, and kissed you until you needed to come up for air. You turned off the tv and sat on the couch for hours, eating and talking and eventually fucking. Right before you went to bed he told you that he was going on the trip tomorrow, and you just smiled and nodded, thinking it was going to be like all the other times.

You pushed past the sergeant and walked into your husband’s room. His bed was separated from an empty one by a curtain. You couldn’t feel your own feet as you walked towards it, and it almost felt like your hand wasn’t moving at all when you pushed past the curtain.

Jun-ho looked like death. There was a tube shoved in his throat and his skin was so pale it looked translucent, the blue of his veins showing through on his arm next to an IV. The circles under his eyes were deep and dark, and he was in a neck brace, with his head bandaged. 

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. The second his mother saw him, she collapsed at his side and laid her body over his legs. Her cries were guttural and came from something that must’ve broken inside of her. “My baby, my baby. I lost one son, I’ll die if I lose another.”

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t cry. You sunk to a chair at his side and reached out for his hand. He was so cold. His skin felt like he had just been taken out of the ocean minutes before, and his heart rate was so slow it felt like it was second between beats.

You didn’t hear the doctor come into the room until he spoke. Jun-ho’s mother looked up and stared at him like he was an angel, but you couldn’t look away from your husband’s unmoving body.

“Mrs. Hwang, can I talk to you about your husband’s condition?” You didn’t move, his mother had to beg the doctor to continue speaking. “He was shot in his left shoulder, luckily the bullet didn’t hit any vital organs, but because of the time between the injury and his arrival at the hospital, he lost a significant amount of blood. We think he hit the water head-first, and the impact caused his neck to break, luckily, there was no spinal cord damage. We induced him into a coma once he reached the hospital, so unfortunately we aren’t able to tell the extent of the damage unless he wakes.”

Your mother and law stood up “Unless? What do you mean by unless?!” she screamed. “My son is not going to die, do you hear me?!” 

You felt broken, Jun-ho had to wake up, he had to. You didn’t care if he couldn’t walk, or speak, but he had to wake up.

You could hear fists banging against the doctor’s chest, but you didn’t turn around. Just kept staring at your husband’s pale face, and pale hands.

The hospital had apparently received a large grant during COVID to expand, and when the pandemic had died down they became designated only for acute emergency cases and recovery care, and many rooms were kept vacant. The staff let you stay in the other bed in his room, and there was a shower attached to the room, designed for patients in long-term recovery and their family members. The hospital had a small cafeteria that made shockingly delicious Korean food, and they delivered the meals to the room three times a day. Before long, you became used to the tired routine of late-night check-ups and tired smiles from the nurses urging you to go home and rest. You were terrified that if you left the hospital Jun-ho would die before you could get back, but you couldn’t tell the nurses that. You just told the nurses that your house was far away and it was more convenient to stay at the hospital as opposed to making the commute or getting a hotel room.

It was three weeks before Jun-ho moved. In that time, you hadn’t left the hospital once. He squeezed your hand while you were holding it, and at first, you thought you imagined it. You called the doctor, and she said she would keep an eye on it, but not to get your hopes up- apparently twitching was normal in coma patients. Several hours later you felt the squeeze again, and when you looked up, you saw Jun-ho’s eyes open the slightest bit. 

It was like a month’s worth of fear and pain cascaded over in a heartbeat, and you collapsed on his chest in broken sobs, staring up at your husband. His mother was there, and she leaned over at him, pleading his name. He stared at you for as long as he could, until his eyes closed again, his eyelids twitching like he wanted them to stay open. Once his eyes closed your hand was still holding his in a tight grip, and you reached open to press the button again.

In the next couple of days, he went in and out of consciousness at increasing intervals. The first moment where you felt like you could breathe again came a week after he first squeezed your hand, when you awoke from sleeping laying on his lap while you sat in the chair to the sound of gagging. You heard his heartbeat increase and saw his throat convulse and his eyes flash open as he fought his breathing tube. 

You immediately pressed the call button for the nurse, and when they took too long you went out into the hallway and screamed for a nurse. There were only a couple of patients on his hall, and they could go screw themselves if they thought their sleep was more important than your husband's choking. The nurse and doctor came running and closed the door on you. Within a couple of minutes the nurse opened the door, and let you step inside. The doctor tried to talk to you, but you couldn’t hear anything she was saying as you walked past her toward your husband’s side.

“Baby,” Jun-ho whispered. His voice was hoarse and broken, and you could feel tears streaming down your face.

“Honey, you’re- you’re here.” You cried more and more, and he painfully reached his arm up to you.

“It’s okay (y/n), I was never going anywhere, I’m here.” You tucked your head into his neck and sobbed into his hospital gown. 

He stroked your hair slowly until his hand rested on the back of your head. You looked up to see that he had fallen back asleep, exhausted from the ordeal of choking on his breathing tube. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wet from a single tear rolling down his face, and tucked your head back down to fall asleep again.

You woke up to a nurse gently shaking you away, informing you that you had to sleep in the other bed to prevent infection. You wanted to fight her for doing her job, but obliged. You fell back asleep quickly, too tired to stay awake because of the crying you had just finished doing.

“(Y/n).” You awoke to a quiet voice, blinking your eyes because of the bright sunlight streaming through the window. You immediately looked over at Jun-ho to see your fiance with his head turned looking at you.

“Jun-ho.” You stood up, stumbling out of bed in the clothes you had to have been wearing for at least a couple of days before now, and went over to kiss him on the lips, the same way he had the last time you had seen him before he went missing. He reciprocated with more force than you thought someone who hadn’t moved any part of his body in a month could.

“I missed you so much honey, I couldn’t breathe for so long.” He smiled and wiped a tear off of your face. 

“I know baby, but I’m here now, I’m here.” He looked at you with so much love and life in his eyes, exactly what you had been missing for the past month.

“I was so scared Jun-ho, first I couldn’t find you, and then once I did I- I wasn’t sure.” You paused, another tear streaming down your face. “I wasn’t sure you would make it.” You whispered.

“I know (y/n), and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You- you got shot. You fell from really high into the water far out in the ocean. You have no idea how scared I was.”

His brow furrowed painfully before he suddenly pulled his head back and winced. “Jun-ho, Jun-ho? Are you okay?!”

You frantically pushed the call button and within seconds there was a team of doctors and nurses entering the room. They slowed slightly when they saw the scene in front of them, and quickly determined there was no immediate danger, and quickly began examining him and asking you both questions. Once the rest of the group left, Jun-ho’s main doctor sat in a chair to explain the situation to the both of you.

She explained what the team had seen when they had checked Jun-ho over, and explained the need for another set of scans to ensure there was no serious brain injury. “We also will need to call the police back to the hospital, because of the gunshot wound.”

Jun-ho froze, and his back grew stiff. “Baby, what’s wrong?” You rested your hand in his grip, tightening it around his.

“Nothing’s wrong, just nervous about the tests.” He squeezed your hand back and smiled up at you at your position sitting next to him on the bed. His body remained stiff, and your brow furrowed in confusion. He was likely traumatized and in pain, both physically and mentally.

Once the doctor left, you apprehensively asked him “Honey, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but… What happened when you were gone, with the fall, and the gunshot wound?”

He looked away from you and glanced out the window. He paused, “I don’t know. I don’t remember what happened.”

You leaned in and squeezed his hand again. “It’s okay if you do, I just want to help you.”

He remained looking out the window, until he looked back at you, something tight across his eyes. “I really don’t know, can we please talk about something else. I’m going to get enough of that from my coworkers later anyways.” He laughed, but the tightness across his face remained the same.

Smiling a similar tight smile, you squeezed his hand back. “Okay. Just, let me know if you remember anything.”

“Now, is there anything I can do to help you?” 

“Jun-ho, I’m not the one who just woke up from a coma, that’s my line!” Jun-ho smiled a real smile, and you copied him, smiling your first genuine smile in weeks.

After the tests, you wheeled Jun-ho in a wheelchair back into his hospital room, where you were greeted by his boss sitting in your usual chair next to his bedside. He stood up to greet you, “Detective! It’s so good to see you awake again!” He bowed to Jun-ho, and your husband nodded his head in return.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you think we could do the interview now? Just so we don’t get more in the way of you and your lovely wife.” He smiled, but there was anxiety furrowing his brow. He was clearly using many tactics that you watched Jun-ho explain that the police force used on victims and their families.

Jun-ho smiled back, “of course.” He looked up at you and smiled a similar tight smile towards you. “Honey, do you think you could go and get some coffee from downstairs for us?” 

You nodded, unsure of what to do as you could clearly tell that the coffee run was just an excuse to get you out of the room. “Of course.” There wasn’t anything you could do about it, and confronting your husband about something he is clearly not ready to talk about would certainly not be a solution. “Officer, would you like me to get you anything?”

He waved you off and you hesitantly exited the room to go downstairs.

Due to the emptiness of the hospital, it didn’t take you long to go down to the cafeteria, pick up some coffee for you and Jun-ho, and come back upstairs. When you reached the floor that the room was on, you hesitated, noticing that the door was cracked and the sounds of him and his boss were still quietly filtering out into the hallway.

You debated for a second staying and eavesdropping, but your moral compass won out in the end. Whatever it was, Jun-ho was clearly not ready to tell you. You didn’t want to betray his trust, and eventually, he would share it with you. The two of you had no secrets between you. If there ever was a night when Jun-ho would have to stay later at work, or was suddenly asked to hang out by his friends, he would call you immediately and tell you what was going on and when he would probably be home. Not that you necessarily needed him to, you trusted him, but he insisted that he never wanted you to worry after him. You did the same in turn, even though your job was far less demanding than his and plans came up far less sporadically for you than they did for him.

As you walked away, you heard a sliver of the conversation “hundreds… shot.” It made you pause in your step. You must’ve misheard. Maybe he had said something else. Maybe you were too sleep-deprived and stressed to think clearly. Still, you turned those words around in your head as you sat in a chair in the hallway next to the nurse’s station.

If you hadn’t misheard- if; what would it mean? Did Jun-ho have a brain injury that didn’t turn up on scans that makes him misremember what happened? Or- or was he telling the truth? Your husband wasn’t a liar, he was the perfect detective because of his strict moral compass, so that must mean… That must mean that if there was no brain injury, and if you didn’t mishear, wherever Jun-ho was he had watched hundreds of people die.

You heard a knock on the doorframe, “Mrs. Hwang, we’re done with the interview.” 

You stood up and walked toward the door when the other detective put his hand on your shoulder while his face grimaced. “I hope everything works out well for the two of you, I really do.” With that foreboding line of encouragement, he walked past you and towards the elevator.

When you entered the room, Jun-ho smiled at you. “(Y/n).” You walked towards him and kissed his forehead, handing him the cup of coffee.

Kissing his forehead, you asked, “How did it go? Are you alright?”

Jun-ho’s brow creased, but he smiled back at you still. “It went well, I just told him that I didn’t know anything.”

That didn’t make sense. You had to have been gone for at least 20 minutes, there was no way those 15 minutes were filled with the other detective asking questions that your husband kept saying no to.

“I’ll have to go into the station later on after I’m discharged and give a longer more formal statement, but for now they’ll leave us alone.”

“Great, I’m glad to have you all to myself.” You leaned over and kissed him on the lips again. You trusted him, and whatever it was that he wasn’t telling you, he would open up about soon. 

He didn’t. After another 2 weeks, the hospital was completely sure there were no long-standing effects. Besides having to regularly come in for check-ups and to carefully not hurt the shoulder where he was shot, miraculously there were no other serious effects.

You had finally gone back into the apartment after he woke up, although you weren’t happy about going back when it was lifeless due to Jun-ho’s absence. By the time he was discharged, the apartment was dust-free, and you made sure that everything was the same as it had been when he had first gone missing.

In the past couple of weeks, Jun-ho had been too calm. He was casual about just about everything. He was smiling, and making jokes, like nothing had ever happened. But, underneath it all, you could tell something was different. When you’ve been with someone for so long, had exchanged wedding vows, and slept in the same bed for years, you just knew them. You knew your husband, and something was off about him. He refused to go to sleep in the hospital room with the door open, and every time you came or went he would make you close the door behind you. He insisted that you spent the night in the hotel room with him (not that you were complaining) even when he was far out of the danger zone. On the car ride home from the hospital he would check the mirrors every time he thought you weren’t looking.

There was something completely off about him, he seemed paranoid, and for the first time in your relationship besides his brother’s disappearance- scared. But every time you would ask him what was wrong, he would just smile and say “I’m alright, just adjusting.”

You carried all of your stuff to the apartment, insisting on doing so even though your stubborn husband wanted to carry luggage even with a bullet recently being removed from his shoulder. But, when you left the elevator and were about to go into the apartment, he stopped you by putting his hand out.

“Baby, I just want to get inside. This is heavy.” You complained.

“I know, just- just give me a minute. I want to check something.” He silently turned the key to your small apartment, took off both his shoes, and stepped inside. He pulled up his pant leg slightly and took out a gun that you didn’t even notice was there.

“Jun-ho!”

He turned back to you and put his finger to his lips, shushing you. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He closed the door behind him, and you stood there shocked. You knew something was wrong, but you didn’t expect him to take out a gun and search your home.

In a couple of minutes, he came back out. “What the hell Jun-ho? What was that!” 

“It was nothing, I’m sorry.” He put the gun back away.

“Why would you search our house? You’ve never done that before. Seriously Jun-ho, what’s going on?” You shouted, exasperated by him saying one thing and acting in a completely opposite way.

“It’s nothing.” He sighed, “I’m sorry (y/n), I’m just scared. It’s been a while since I’ve been out of the hospital, so I’m nervous.” He leaned in and gave you a hug, which you reciprocated. But still, that wasn’t the whole truth.

“I think you should see someone Jun-ho, this isn’t normal.” You said into your husband’s chest.

“(Y/n), I’m fine. I promise.” You leaned your head up and kissed him again.

The first week back was difficult. Jun-ho seemed terrified of just about everything around him. The both of you barely left the house, and when you did his hand held yours in a tight grip.

Your job had given you an extended leave to take care of Jun-ho, but your leave was ending in a few weeks once the two-month mark passed. 

You were laying in bed one night, Jun-ho tracing circles on your shoulder as you spooned after making love. “Jun-ho, I’m worried about you.”

He kissed your shoulder, “what about?” He said casually.

You rolled over to face him. “About everything, you’ve been so scared and stressed. I don’t know what’s going to happen once I go back to work.” 

He propped his head on his hand as he laid on his side, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m starting to feel better. I’m sorry I’ve been so paranoid lately.”

You sighed, “I want you to see someone Jun-ho. I don’t want this to fester and fester.”

He sighed, “I know (y/n), I promise it’ll get better soon. I talked to the chief today, I’ll go back to work next week.”

You shot up in bed, “two weeks? Babe, that isn’t nearly enough time. You still can’t lift anything heavier than a paper clip with your left arm.”

Jun-ho reached back towards you and stroked your arm. “Well good thing I’m right-handed.” He smirked.

Tilting your head, you just looked back at your husband anxiously. “Jun-ho this is serious. You aren’t ready to go back to work.”

“(Y/n), please trust me. This will all be over soon, okay?” He looked at you pleadingly. He didn’t want you to drop it or ignore it, he wanted you to- trust him? There was a secret, but he clearly didn’t want you to know it, and just to wait.

Sighing, you said, “Okay, I’ll wait.” You didn’t know what else to say. You couldn’t make him tell you the truth, and he wanted you to not push it. There was nothing to do. “But I really want you to talk to someone.”

He leaned in to kiss you, and right before he touched your lips, he said “Okay, I will; for you.” Then he closed the distance and kissed you until you needed to come up for air.

Your house was quieter after you both went back to work. When Jun-ho came home from work he would make his way next to you on the couch, lay down, and put his head on your lap. It was nice at first, after so much stress you could simply relax and enjoy each other's company.

Soon after getting home, he would get tired. Sometimes falling asleep on your lap.

After a month of him getting back to work, you were exhausted from the silence. It became oppressive. You grew tired of the same routine, and how your husband never quite grew less paranoid. He became better at hiding it, attaching cameras and extra locks around your house under the guise of burglaries in the building that you had never heard of. He would stand up from his crouch install the locks and wrap his arms around you, kissing you and telling you that he just wanted you to be safe.

Before his accident, he would wake up every morning and make breakfast for the both of you, insisting that it was the most important meal of the day. After the accident, he started to make lunch as well, and whenever you suggested that you go out for dinner, he smiled and told you that he enjoyed your cooking so much more.

Then, after 3 months, he came home completely exhausted. It was later than usual, and you stayed up late to greet him, completely concerned by his lack of response to any of your texts. “Jun-ho, where the hell were you? Are you okay?!” You ran up to him as soon as he opened the door, looking him up and down for any injuries.

“No, I’m fine.” He smiled a lopsided and insincere smile at you. He smelled like alcohol.

“Were you drinking?” You demanded.

“Me and my coworkers went out for a couple of bottles of soju after work, nothing much.” He shook off his shoes and went to hug you.

You pulled away, “why didn’t you tell me? We always tell each other these things.” 

“Baby, I had a long, long day, let’s not do this right now.”

“No, we have to do this right now, what happened? You’ve been so strange lately, and you never went to talk to someone like you said you would.” You paused, tears beginning to well up in your eyes, “I’m really concerned for you. I want you to get tested for PTSD.”

He stepped closer to you, “I don’t have PTSD, I just had a long day.” You didn’t move. He sighed, “(Y/n), please, I’m exhausted. Can we do this tomorrow?”

You didn’t say anything but didn’t move when he closed the distance between you to pull you into a tight hug. You finally reciprocated, pulling him closer, when you heard silent sniffling from next to your ear. In a heartbeat, you felt a drop of wetness on your shoulder. 

The next day, Jun-ho quit being a detective. After he started crying, he pretended like nothing had happened, got silent, and took a shower before going to bed. You barely spoke another word the rest of the night, but after he thought you went to sleep you could feel him trace circles on your shoulder.

He told you as soon as he got home that being a detective was too much work for him after the accident, and he tired more easily, but you didn’t buy it for a second.

“Jun-ho, you love your job, why would you quit? Do you want to go back on leave?” You pleaded at your husband.

He smiled back at you, “Of course I love my job, it’s only temporary.” And he leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

Temporary. Although your better judgment told you otherwise, you put all your faith in that one little word. Temporary, this, like everything else making your husband act so different, would pass.

Jun-ho came home late the next day. Then the next. The first you waited up for him, sitting at the dinner table, your food growing cold. When your husband came in, he didn’t smell like alcohol, he simply kissed you on the forehead and sat down across from you, not confronting his tardiness. You cried yourself to sleep that night, with your husband laying stiff as a board next to you, unsure of what to do.

The next night, when he was late, you didn’t bother to wake up. You left his food in the fridge and went to bed early, tears streaming down your face. You were still awake when he came into bed but pretended to be asleep. You could feel the bed shaking from his silent sobs.

The next month went on in the same way, with the only escape from the monotony of your miserable silence being Jun-ho’s one day off. On that one day, you would pretend that you didn’t have any problems, that you were a normal couple who would go walking through the cherry trees and go out drinking together late at night. You went on a double date with one of your coworkers and her husband and sat awkwardly through one of their arguments. It wasn’t the same, but having some bit of refuge away from your stress was a lifesaver.

But even that changed. One day, you decided to go kayaking out in the bay, and while you were out in the water, Jun-ho stopped for a minute. There was a gap in your conversation, and during it, your husband stopped paddling.

“Babe, are you alright?”

He looked up at you as if startled. “Yeah, I’m alright.” He paused, “Would it be okay if we went back, I need to do something important.”

“Um, yeah sure. What is it?” You hesitantly asked.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Your face sank. Every question you asked your husband ended with him saying ‘It’s nothing,’ no matter how big of a deal it likely was.

A couple of days later, when your husband came home late again, he told you that he would be busy on his day off and that a friend of his needed help on his boat. You just smiled and nodded, because what else could you really do?

Then he was busy the next weekend, and then the next, and the next. You only really saw your husband for a couple of minutes in the morning, and a couple of minutes in the night. Sometimes, you were able to make time. Sometimes, you would go out for a nice dinner, or go out to a friend’s party for the holidays. On your birthday he took the whole day off work and planned every single thing you would do all day. He made breakfast, took you shopping in the morning, went out to a nice lunch, took you out to the countryside to the ocean, and bought you lunch in your favorite tiny spot next to the shore. It was like for just 24 hours you had your husband back.

But other than that, it was like living with a ghost. He got more and more stressed over time. He smiled the same amount, but even with taking a demotion to a regular cop, he was getting worse and worse over time. He felt tenser, and more on edge than he had ever been before.

Every night you would fall asleep crying, you became used to waking up with a wet pillow or having to look at your puffy eyes when you wiped the condensation off the mirror after crying in the shower. Whenever Jun-ho saw the tears, whether you were laying in bed or cooking dinner on one of the rare nights that he came home early would wrap you in a hug from behind, and say, “I’m so sorry honey, I promise this will pass.” 

And you would plead, “Please honey, please, just tell me what’s happening, please be here more.”

And he would press his head into your back and whisper, “I can’t, I’m sorry. I love you.”

Your hopes would drop all over again, “I love you too.”

It was three years before anything changed. You would constantly beg him to do anything, to see someone, to talk to you, to do anything. Your friends asked you if he was cheating, but you knew he wasn’t. You knew, somehow that whatever was happening, was big, and important. And that it was eating you and your husband alive.

You didn’t see him for three days. He answered all of your texts with “Just something for work, I’ll be home soon. I love you.” Nothing else. No explanation for anything.

You slept on the couch and stayed there when you were awake, racked with anxiety. When he finally came home you sat there staring straight ahead. He didn’t speak.

You had pictured a fight, a confrontation. You had begged and pleaded, with tears in your eyes before. But nothing had happened. And after almost four years, you didn’t have any energy left.

“I want a divorce.” You surprised yourself with the words.

You looked up at him, and he stood there, his expression unreadable. 

“If you can’t tell me what the hell is going on, tomorrow I’m going to a lawyer.” 

He stumbled toward you and dropped to his knees in front of you, “(Y/n), please. You just have to trust me. This, this’ll all be over soon. I know I’ve said it before, but this time I mean it, soon it’ll be just like before.”

You looked into your husband’s eyes which were beginning to fill with tears. “I don’t believe you.”

“Baby, please. I can’t tell you, I really can’t.” His head dropped, breaking eye contact as you saw a tear fall down to reach the floor. He whispered, “If- if you know the truth, I don’t know what’ll happen to you. And I can’t risk that. I- I’ve risked everything else. But I can’t risk you.”

You couldn’t cry, your tears were all dried up. You should be shocked by what he was saying, but your mind went back to what you heard him say from outside that hospital room years ago “Hundreds… Shot.”

“I know, I’ve known. I know that you remember, and I know that it’s related to when you went missing. I just need you to trust me. I can’t do this anymore.”

He looks up at you, grabbing your hands and wrapping his around yours. “I know, I’m so sorry, but I need you to just wait a little bit longer-”

You stood up. “I think you should leave.” 

“(Y/n), please.”

You walked away from him, towards your bedroom. “(Y/n), I love you.”

“I love you.” And then you heard the door shut.

As you lay in bed, you couldn’t help but feel empty, like your heart had been torn out of your chest. The brutal calm you had been through was over, but storm had just begun.

Part two will be out with the next season, stay tuned for more!

[mywritersmind]

THE BOOTH - LN4

summary : The booth. A notorious club in the heart of london, where y/n and lando met again after two years of silence.

listen up : fewtrell!reader. She sits in his lap. no smut, just hot and suggestive. creepy guy in the beginning! Prob my fav short i’ve written omg

word count : 1732

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“No.” I giggle out of uncomfortableness at the man getting closer to me.

“C’mon, let me buy you a drink.” the man reeks of alcohol and has fucked up teeth. I’ve seen enough. I pull down the bottom of my mini dress as I stand.

“No.” I repeat, pushing past him. The club is crowded and sticky, I see my friends but a hand around my wrist pulls me back.

“Really? Too good for me?” He scoffs in my face but the next thing I know he’s being pushed away from me.

“She is.” The voice comes from the man in front of me, the guy who pushed this dickhead away. “Piss off. She’s with me.”

The guy seems intimidated enough because he gives me a dirty look and leaves. “Thank y-” I pause when the man turns around.

I pause because the man is my childhood crush, brothers best friend, and fucking formula one driver.

“Lando?” I’m genuinely shocked that the britt I haven’t seen in two years is standing in front of me.

“Y/n!?” He looks me up and down, his mouth open, “Fuck… You look good.” I could say the same for him, in a navy button down, jeans, and his jewelry adorning his hands. He’s ridiculously hot.

I laugh, “Careful Lan, my brother could be lurking.” I switch my weight onto one leg as he smirks.

Max loves Lando. Max loves me.

Therefore, Max HATED the thought of us even speaking. We were all friends in childhood but our teens hit and suddenly I was completely off limits. I’m pretty sure he noticed how much I asked about Lando and swore that he would kill both of us if anything happened.

Someone walks behind him, causing him to get closer, his hand brushing against my hip, “Don’t scare me, yeah?”

I bite my lip at the thought, we start walking across the room, Lando’s hand firmly on me now as he ‘guides’ me. “Don’t worry. Idiots in Monaco… which means we have free rein.”

I see his jaw clench, his drink slide onto his lips again, “I’d like to keep my friendship.”

“I’d like to lose my panties.” I’m quick to reply, messing with Lando used to be my favorite thing.

You see, Lando is Max’s best friend. He feels bad lying and this would definitely be considered a betrayal of trust.

But for me… Max is my brother. I can lie and do whatever I want with no remorse. Lando is something I could do easily and as much as it would make me happy to piss off my brother, Norris has always been that one guy in the back of my mind.

“Christ Y/n. Missed your remarks.” We make it to the wall, it’s a bit quieter over here.

“You mean you missed my flirting?” I look up at him, he just bites his lip, hiding his smile.

“I missed you.” He surprises me with this.

“I missed you too.” I push my hand through my hair, “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Really good.” He smiles big and I know it’s because of his racing.

“Watched your win in Zandvoort.” I sigh, “Simply lovely was brutal.” He rolls his eyes, laughing and leaning his head back on the wall.

“Not you too!”

“It was hilarious! I liked it!” I hit his arm and the way he looks at me… it’s like every emotion that I've tucked away and only opened up in the darkness of my bedroom after midnight, comes out then. “I like this too.”

My hand goes to the back of his neck, playing with his curls that shape his baby mullet.

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, his eyes cut into me, his voice weak.

“What?” I say innocently.

“You always do this.”

“Do what, Norris?” Lando never was that much taller than me, but something about the two passed years has changed that.

His tongue runs over his teeth, he’s about to say something but two guys appear next to us, “Mate! We’ve been looking for you!” Another British man speaks, Alex Albon to be exact.

“Found a friend?” Carlos sainz eyes me, dressed in all black.

I smile at the drivers, Lando eyes Carlos. “Max’s sister. Y/n.” They both nod and look much too interested in how Lando says it, “Y/n… this is Alex and Carlos.”

“Pleasure.” I smile wide. I am an F1 fan, it’s a bit weird seeing Lando on the grid but I’ll sit and watch with Max almost every weekend that we’re together.

“Pleasures all ours! I’ve always wanted to meet Lando’s childhood crush!” Lando hits Carlos, making him grab his stomach, “Worth it!” The Spanish man chokes out.

Lando scratches the back of his neck, not looking at me. “Are you here with anyone?” Alex asks me, I knew he would be nice.

“Yeah! I’m not sure where they are but…”

“That’s okay. You have us now!” Alex and I end up getting a drink, Lando stays back with Carlos who’s definitely teasing him.

I get a vodka lemonade and four shots. Alex and I are already best friends and laughing so hard that Carlos and Lando won’t stop asking us what’s so funny.

They don’t know that I showed Alex a photo of Lando and I as smurfs when we were five.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

LANDO NORRIS

Describing Y/n is something i’ve done many times. To friends, for context in stories, but if i’d really describe her… I don’t think I would have an ending point.

She’s got long blonde hair. She cut it all off when she was fifteen and I almost fainted when I didn’t recognize her. She loved it.

She’s confident, you can see it in her walk. Her hips sway and the click of her heels is something I'll never forget.

When she talks to you, all attention is on you, her eyes are hazel, appearing brown in the dark but if you get close enough… you’ll see the green.

She never quite had an awkward stage, always been beautiful, probably always will be. I haven’t seen her in years yet she acts like I talked to her yesterday.

Y/n sucks on a lime after her shot, smiling and clapping her hands together, “God, I feel like i’m in highschool!”

I obviously didn’t go to school with her. She’s a year younger and Max would non stop complain about her. She was more popular than him, going out, and was basically friends with everyone.

I remind myself again that Max is the reason why my arm is around the couch and not her waist.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Y/N

“Norris!” I stand, holding out my hand, “Picture time.” I smile as he stands with me.

“What?” Carlos asks.

“Called the booth for a reason, Sainz!” I grin at the boys, gripping Lando’s hand tight and maneuvering us through the crowd.

There’s one photo booth in the back corner of the club. It’s notorious for famous photos and making everyone look good.

I look back at the boys who all look confused. All except Lando.

We came to the booth when Lando was in town from F2, we were 17 and 18. Max had gone off with some girl and we found ourselves in this exact booth.

We swore never to talk about it.

But I’m all for repeating history.

“Fewtrell…” He warns in my ear as we walk to the starred booth.

I glance back, dragging out his name, “Norris.”

He gets in first, unlike us as teens, only one person can fit. I smile and watch Lando’s face drop, I sit down on his lap, “Playing with fire here, love.” he says in my ear.

“I don’t mind getting burned.” He slips two coins in, his hand moving to my waist and holding me steady.

We smile first.

SNAP

I move a bit and give him bunny ears.

SNAP

Lando clears his throat, gripping my skin tighter as he looks at me. I move again, my skirt riding up a bit. “Trying to kill me?”

I smile and kiss his cheek, feeling something hard against me.

SNAP

“Of course.” I look at him, “The memories in here… You remember?”

“I’d be an idiot to forget.”

His hand moves down my hip, closer to my thigh. I look at him again as the photo booth starts up for the second time, “I shouldn’t.” He whispers, my face centimeters from his. I hear the whistles outside.

I shift once more, turning more to him. He groans, his head falling backwards and his eyes closing, “Give me a good reason.”

SNAP

He opens his eyes, meeting mine. I know I've got him. My hand rests on his neck, my rings pressing against his skin. He mumbles something but it’s too loud, “Speak up, Norris.”

“Never spoken.” His eyes flick to my lips, trying to get me to promise this is a secret.

“Never ever.” He leans in closer.

SNAP

“Come on rule breaker… I believe in you.” I whisper in his ear and it breaks him. I’m pulling his head closer to me, his lips on mine, a relief like no other.

He grabs ass, pulling me closer in the tiny space. I slip my tongue in his mouth, whimpering a bit. He bites my lip. I’m melting into him. It’s hot and needy but so much more than I could have ever wanted.

SNAP

Kissing Lando at Seventeen was scandalous and drunken. Kissing Lando at Twenty Three flat out sexy.

“Need you…” He whispers into the kiss which makes me almost come undone right then and there.

Someone bangs on the booth, “Alright Lovebirds!” Lando laughs but I'm the one to pull away.

“I can’t leave this booth.” He says quickly, his face red and sweaty.

“You’ll be fine-” I understand what he’s talking about when I go to leave and something brushes against my leg, “Oh.”

He looks away from me, blushing.

I smile, proud of myself for the boner and his pink cheeks, “Aw come on! I’ll cover you.” I wink and he rolls his eyes, He walks out behind me, his arms firmly on my waist again.

The two drivers grin at us, “You covering a boner?” Carlos starts but gets punched for the second time tonight by Lando. He holds his stomach again, “Still worth it!”

[incognit0slut]

Beyond the limit

>> Part two: the breaking point

Spencer is hesitant when you ask him to be rough, but when he realizes how much you enjoy it, he wonders just how far he can push your limit.

warnings: (MDNI, 18+) dom spence, guided/mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation (use of slut), orgasm control, hairpulling, choking, overstimulation, creampie, cumplay, squirting, rough sex, so many body fluids

a/n: 4k words for 4k followers! Thank you all so much, consider this as a token of my appreciation. This one is for you, I love you all ♡

Spencer considered himself as someone with a strong sense of self-control... until he found himself on top of you, right between your legs. How could he resist when your body felt so soft against his? When all his restraint seemed to vanish into thin air?

He had you pinned against the bed, his palms tracing your hips before moving to your breast. You moaned out his name as your nipples hardened against the thin material of your shirt—his shirt, to be exact. After all, it was how it all started.

The moment he was greeted by the view of your perfect ass when he came home from work, barely covered by his shirt you were wearing, something in him snapped. You looked so damn good, so damn tempting, practically begging to be touched.

It didn’t take long for him to discard his bag onto the floor before scooping you in his arms. You simply giggled, amused at his sudden urgency yet eagerly welcoming it as he led you into your shared bedroom.

Now he was right between your thighs, pressing his hard erection right against your panties. You could feel yourself getting wet by the friction and you found yourself parting your legs even further, grinding your hips along with his as his mouth continued to suck on the spot right below your ear.

Anytime you whimpered, he gripped you tighter, and your shaky hands clutched onto button-down shirt. There was something about him still dressed in his work clothes while you were nearly half-naked, his shirt bunched around your waist, leaving your lower half exposed. And you liked it. It made you feel vulnerable being pressed under him like this, sparking a strange desire to submit to him completely.

And now you craved more. You wanted to surrender to him, to let him take the lead. But to your dismay, his movements suddenly slowed down, leaving you momentarily confused because you could feel the way he was holding back. His hands were trembling against your body as if he was consciously avoiding being rough.

You slid your hands up to his chest, lightly pushing him away and he quickly drew back. His brows furrowed as he gazed down at you. "What is it? Did I do something wrong?"

Shaking your head, you reassured him. "No," you replied softly. "But... you don't have to hold yourself back for my sake, you know.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "I mean, I know you're trying to be careful, but... I want you to take control, without holding back. I want... more.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his features. "You want me to... be rough?" he asked cautiously.

You nodded, a flush creeping up your cheeks. "I do."

"But I- I don't want to hurt you."

You reached out, cupping his cheek tenderly. "I trust you, Spence. I trust us. And I want you to trust yourself too."

His expression softened under your touch. You took it as enough of a sign to push forward as your thumb swept back and forth across his jaw.

"If it's too much I'll tell you," you assured him.

He searched your eyes for a moment, uncertainty flickering within his gaze. "What if I hurt you?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You bit your lip, studying his face for a moment before responding. "I think I'll like it if you do," you confessed, your cheeks flushing slightly. "But we don't have to do anything crazy you're not comfortable with. We don't necessarily have to do something you don't want to."

Spencer swallowed hard, processing your words. "So what do you want then?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your hand slid up the length of his jaw until your fingers slipped into his hair. Very carefully you gripped a handful of his curly strands in your fist. "Do whatever you want, baby," you answered. "Mark my skin. Pull my hair. Talk me through it."

You noticed the way his lips twitched at your words and you smiled.

"Fuck me hard," you demanded boldly.

His breath hitched as he searched your eyes. He definitely wanted to do those things, too. When he finally relaxed into your touch, a rush of anticipation surged through you, your heart beating rapidly.

"Are you sure?" he asked slowly.

You nodded, gripping his hair a bit harder, enjoying the way his breathing grew shallower. "Please," you whispered, your voice filled with desire.

With a barely audible groan, Spencer gave in to your request, his resolve melting away as his lips crashed against yours. Your pulse sped up excitedly in your chest in response—this was exactly what you wanted. That pure, raw desire that was too strong for him to contain. When he finally pulled away, he was breathing even heavier now, his shoulders heaving with each audible inhale.

"If we're going to do this, we'll do it my way," he declared firmly. "You will listen to me, understood?"

You nodded, feeling a shiver of anticipation run down your spine at the commanding tone of his voice. "Yes," you replied breathlessly.

And just when you thought he was about to delve into another kiss, he surprised you by pulling away. He sat back, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you. "Sit up and lean back on the pillow," he commanded.

Your heart raced as you complied, eagerly following his lead.

"Take off the shirt... leave your panties on."

You followed, leaning forward, your fingers grabbing the hem of your shirt before pulling it off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to his eyes. His predatory gaze was locked on your breasts, noticing the way your nipples hardened as the cold air brushed your skin. When you leaned back again, he dragged the tips of his fingers up your thighs, gripping your waist for a moment before another demand left his lips.

"Spread your pretty legs," his soothing voice told you, staring intently between your thighs. You did as you were told, parting your knees, your feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.

"Now touch yourself." You gulped at his tone, sliding your fingers inside your panties. He suddenly called out your name in a warning, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks. "Over your panties, I'll tell you when to touch yourself directly."

You nodded, letting your fingers hover over the fabric of your panties. You let out a gasp when you felt how drenched you were before you found your clit. You were hyperaware of every movement you were making, you realized, and it turned you on way more than it should. You choked on your next moan, squeezing your eyes shut as felt the sensation growing along your body.

You suddenly felt a hand gripping your jaw and you quickly opened your eyes, greeted by him staring down at you. "Keep your eyes on me."

There was nothing else for you to do but to oblige. Your fingers continued to press down your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud desperately as he released his hold on your jaw before trailing down your chest, teasing your aching nipples. You whimpered and watched as his eyes traveled down your body.

Spencer hungrily took in the way your legs were spread apart before him, the way you were touching yourself so eagerly. Your fingers moved rapidly over your panties, the material now too drenched as it slipped between your folds every time you moved. Your pussy was barely covered and he could see your arousal dripping down your legs.

"Look at you," he mused, his hand traveling down your body, resting slightly at the inner part of your thigh. "You like putting on a little show, don't you?"

Your breaths came out in shallow, eager gasps, but when you attempted to increase your pace, he quickly shook his head. "Slower. We don't want to rush."

You complied, adjusting your movements to match his pace, and he rewarded you with a smile. "That's it. Nice and slow," he praised, his gaze locked on yours with intensity.

Through hooded eyes, you watched as he began to undress, each deliberate movement teasingly slow. His tie came first, followed by his shirt which he discarded carelessly onto the floor. His pants followed suit, and when he was completely naked, your eyes hungrily drank in the sight of his exposed body.

Your fingers on your own body slowed down as you took in the sight before you, the way he slowly gripped the base of his cock before squeezing it hard.

"Don't you stop, I didn't tell you to stop," he reminded you, his voice firm.

With a sharp inhale, you resumed your movements, the urgency returning as you focused on pleasuring yourself under his watchful gaze. Then as if to taunt you, he began pumping his length slow and steady as your eyes focused in on the motions.

"S-Spence," you whined, pushing your hips faster against your hand, trying to keep your rhythm in check though the sight of him pleasuring himself had you so weak in the moment. "I- I wanna take my panties off."

He gripped his cock tighter, working his fist quicker along the length as his breaths deepened. "Yeah? You wanna see how wet you are?"

His words sent a surge of warmth through your body, spreading from between your thighs to your cheeks as your fingers quickened in pace and your legs spread further for him to see. "Yes-yes- please," you begged.

"Such a desperate slut," he muttered. His crude words shouldn't have brought you pleasure, but they did, and your tight walls clenched around nothing. He noticed the effect it had on you and smiled. "You liked that, huh? You liked being called a slut?"

You gulped, your fingers moving faster. "Y-Yes."

He simply hummed in response, snaking his hands between you, finally slipping off your panties down your legs. His fingers then gripped the soft plush of your thigh, spreading you open for him, exposing your cunt to the open air as he massaged soothing shapes into your skin.

He sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, taking in the mess between your legs. His gaze traveled your stomach, up to your perky breasts, before meeting your half-lidded eyes. He then slowly took your hand and your jaw slacked open when he abruptly sucked your fingers into his mouth.

His tongue felt hot, searingly so, as he laves over the pads of your middle and ring fingers, then dipped between them to caress your knuckles down to where they meet. A wave of heat traveled through you as he held your gaze, licking off your fingers one last time before guiding them back between your thighs.

"Keep going," he instructed, and you wasted no time in rubbing your clit feverishly. Your face twisted with pleasure, brow wrinkled, body tense, and each circle around your sensitive flesh brought you closer to the edge. The bedroom was filled with the sounds of crisp, rustling sheets underneath you and the slick motions of your fingers roaming your folds.

"Do you hear that? You're getting so loud. So wet," he gritted out. His eyes flickered up to your face, observing the delicate scrunch of your nose and your parted lips. "You're close, aren't you?"

You looked over to him. The view of his hand gripping his cock drew you so close to the edge you were balancing on, all the while attempting to feign control to give him the show he requested.

"Y- Yes," you admitted breathlessly, your body trembling with need.

He hummed a reply, soothing your thigh with his other hand. "Be a good girl and beg for it."

A choked whine escaped your lips.

"P-Please, let me come," you pleaded, the desperation evident in your voice as you sought his permission to release the tension coiling in your stomach.

"Ask nicely," he said, his tone firm yet encouraging. "Can I what?"

"Can I... I-I come?" you stammered, your eyes fluttering close, fingers moving rapidly on your clit.

"Look at me. Ask again."

Your eyes flickered open, meeting his intense gaze. "Can I-I come?" you begged, the desperation in your voice echoing your urgent desire.

"I can't hear you."

A moan ripped out of you, your body shaking uncontrollably under his gaze. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes as you struggled to hold on. "P-Please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. "Please let me come, I-I can't hold on much longer..."

"Louder," he demanded, his voice cutting through the haze of your desire, and that was when everything snapped. It was no longer a plea; instead, you were babbling incoherent words, unable to contain the overwhelming need coursing through your body.

"I-I'm s-sorry, I-I can't—" you cried, your voice strained with the effort of holding back.

But it was too late. Your resolve shattered, overwhelmed by the intensity of your desire. With a tear falling down your cheek, you locked eyes with him desperately as your climax crashed over you, consuming you entirely in its wave of ecstasy. It crept up on you, a gentle crescendo that abruptly peaked before slamming right into you.

Something in him snapped. Spencer never imagined he would enjoy having this much control over your body, but in this moment, he did. It was twisted, and although a hint of remorse flickered within him, his desire overpowered any sense of guilt.

Even as your body trembled uncontrollably from the intensity of your orgasm, he acted on impulse, flipping you over to lie on your stomach. The shift in position only fueled his desire further, igniting a primal need to dominate and possess you completely.

A moment later his hand came down on your ass with a sharp smack that drew a gasp out of you. He then crawled over you as his knees landed on either side of your thighs, the mattress bowing under his weight. Both of his hands dropped roughly down onto your ass, kneading the soft flesh.

You felt him lining his cock up with your entrance, your eyes closing in anticipation of him filling you. And then he plunged himself into you in one swift, sharp thrust which had your head dropping down into your pillow, burying your face in it as you tried to muffle the cry of pleasure that flew out of you.

He began pumping into you, his pace was slow at first, long strokes of drawing his cock out and back in earning quiet whimpers from you against the pillow. One of his hands released your hip before you felt him grabbing a fistful of your hair, just at the base of your skull, and sharply pulling.

"Stop burying yourself," he grunted. "Let me hear those pretty sounds."

You let out a moan, body shaking with every thrust of his hips, the room spinning as he picked up his pace. You felt the slow withdrawal of his cock as his hips drew back from you, but you weren't prepared for the way he rammed himself swiftly forward into you seconds after while tightening his grip on your hair.

A high-pitched, breathy noise of pleasure tore out of you at the feel of it. Encouraged, he repeated the gesture, the tug on your hair even rougher. You moaned loudly in response, your hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as he brutally fucked you into the mattress.

"That's my girl," he praised. "Just like that, let me hear how good my cock makes you feel."

Your eyelids grew heavy under the weight of his words, your mouth going slack. Spencer was as loud as you as he repeatedly buried his cock in you over and over again. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had your eyes rolling back behind closed lids, your mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.

He then lowered onto his left forearm as his front molded over your back. The hard, solid feel of him behind you had you pressing back up into him, teeth gritting together as his cock buried itself somehow further inside of you. He released his grip on your hair, his hand swiftly moving to encircle your throat.

A moan escaped your lips as you felt the slight pressure of his grip, a surge of arousal coursing through you. His hand slid up further, encircling the bottom of your jaw as he carefully pulled your head backward, drawing it towards his shoulder until his mouth was beside your ear.

"Is this what you wanted?" Your breath hitched at his proximity, the heat of his body searing against your back as you struggled to form a coherent response. You could only manage a breathless nod in response.

"Let's see how far I can ruin you," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent a thrill through you despite the underlying threat in his words.

As his grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly, you couldn't suppress the moan that escaped your lips, surrendering completely as he picked up his pace, his hips rocking more rapidly into you. You were panting hard, your head tilted back against his shoulder.

His lips pressed onto the sensitive spot just between your shoulder and your neck, sucking on the skin while he mercilessly fucked you, his sweat-slicked body still flush to the back of you as he continued his fast, relentless pace. You were vaguely aware of his ragged, drawn-out groan and you could tell he was close.

It was evident in the way he was starting to lose control, his grip tightening around your throat as his breath grew hot and heavy against you. He was on the brink of spiraling, and you welcomed it, giving yourself over completely to please him.

"T-That's it, baby," you moaned. "You fuck me so good."

It was enough to make him come undone. He released inside of you, panting and huffing as he gave into the bliss. His motions slowed but he continued spilling inside your drenched walls, sweat beading against his forehead, lips parted, and face flushed. You squeezed yourself around him just to hear him suck in a sharp breath, gulping and exhaling with his brow wrinkled before he pulled out.

But when you thought he was done with you, he flipped you onto your back again. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release. He ran his fingers over your outer lips, spreading you open to have a better view of the white liquid trickling down your ass. He was quick to collect it with his fingers, tracing it up your folds so he could messily rub it over your clit.

"S-Spence..."

Spencer was known for his aversion to getting dirty, yet he didn't mind the mess he made between your legs. "You should see yourself," he muttered. "You're so pretty like this."

And then to your surprise, he positioned the tip of his cock right at your entrance again. You gasped, prompting yourself on your elbows as you looked down between your legs, wondering how on earth he was still so hard. Then a moan left your lips as you watched him slowly sinking into you again.

"Look at how I'm stretching you," he murmured, pushing his hips further. Both of your eyes were locked on the way your pussy stretched so wide around his girth. His previous release slipped back inside you every time his cock disappeared into your wet cunt, white cream coating around his length.

He moaned when your walls clenched around him, his eyes flickering between your face and the way his cock was stretching you. Spencer should have stopped. You were both too tired and too sensitive to continue further. Even his body ached with exhaustion, but he couldn't stop himself from thrusting forward as your walls swallowed his cock eagerly, practically begging for more.

The rational part of his brain urged him to pause, but the primal, carnal desire within him overrode any sense of restraint. Ignoring the way your body shook with exhaustion and the tension in his own muscles, he focused solely on the intense heat between your legs. So he continued to fuck you.

He was fucking you to the point where you couldn't even moan anymore, your voice caught in your throat with each thrust. He was fucking you so good there were tears in your eyes but you couldn't whimper or blink, you were just staring up at him, wordless and in awe, nails digging in his arms while your knees brushed up close to your shoulders.

He was fucking you roughly, dipping down every so often to press his lips to yours, the times he was not whispering encouragement, telling you how pretty you look, how wet you were, how much of a slut you were, and good you felt wrapped around him. And you could feel it, you could feel how good you were as your walls clamped down, sucking him in.

He thrust into you ruthlessly, consumed by a primal need to push you to your limits, to explore just how much you could take of him. Then when you felt that coil spreading along your limbs, you finally came without saying a word. But he didn't stop, continuing to fuck you into your next orgasm, and even when the sensation began to feel too overwhelming, he abused your clit with his thumb.

That was when everything blurred. The overwhelming pleasure finally consumed you entirely, rendering rational thought as a surge of liquid gushed out between your legs. He moaned in surprise at the sensation, his desire only fueled further by your response.

"Do that again," he begged, his voice husky with need as he continued to roll his hips into you. And you did, another wave of pleasure crashing over you as you drenched everything around you—his body, the sheets, every surface within reach. He moaned again, acutely aware of the mess you created.

Your grip on him slowly loosened and a pang of guilt hit him as he realized your body was already exhausted. Yet he couldn't resist the urge to use you once more. Your silence urged him to continue, thrusting into you relentlessly, your slicked-sweat skin sliding against his as he chased his second orgasm of the night.

He finally came with a grunt, his hips pumping into you with desperation, once, twice, before finally stilling. You cried out at the sensation, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all—the quickening of his breath, the hard grip of his hand on your skin, the throbbing ache between your legs.

Your vision suddenly became a hazy blur, and you gasped for breath, struggling to anchor yourself amidst the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. Despite your shaking form, Spencer managed to pull you into his embrace.

“I-I got you," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of emotions as the rush of dominance that had driven him moments ago was replaced by a wave of panic. He continued to hold you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively as he whispered soothing words into your ear.

You focused on controlling your breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly as you sought to regain your composure. Gradually, the haze began to lift, and after a moment passed, you found yourself able to see clearly once again. Your eyes traveled to him, and with a tired and sleepy smile, you leaned into his touch.

Spencer released a breath he wasn't aware of holding. "We are never doing that again."

"What? Why?" you asked, confusion evident in your voice.

"You scared me!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with both relief and exasperation. "What if you passed out? What if I had to take you to the hospital and—and explain that—"

"That I passed out because your dick was too good?"

He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're impossible," he teased, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You grinned up at him, feeling a warmth spread through you at his affectionate gesture. "But you love me anyway."

His smile softened as he gazed down at you. "I do."

"And I love you," you assured him. "Don't worry, I'm alright. And be honest with me, you seriously don't want to do that again? Wasn't that hot?"

His cheeks flushed slightly at your question, and he hesitated for a moment before meeting your gaze. "It was..." he began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words. "Intense," he finally admitted, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. "But maybe we should take it slow next time."

"Spencer, you were the one that kept going."

He gave you a sheepish smile. "I guess I got carried away a little," he admitted, a touch of embarrassment coloring his tone.

“A little?”

“Fine, more than a little,” he confessed. “But you didn't stop me either."

"That's because I was enjoying myself."

His embarrassment faded into amusement. "You're going to be the death of me one day, you know that?"

You grinned playfully at his remark. "Only if you're lucky," you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head fondly as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. He studied you, taking in the warmth in your eyes and the happy but serene smile that graced your lips as a surge of affection washed over him. "Then I must be the luckiest man alive."

[reidmotif]

Relax, I've Got You

Summary: Reader isn't the best at handling stress, and her roommate Spencer, notices. Luckily, he has quite a few salacious ideas on how he could make her feel better.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: friends-with-benefits situation, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), mentions of anxiety/symptoms of anxiety.

Word Count: 2.7 k

Masterlist

You were never good at handling stress. 

You were well aware of this facet of your psyche– the way tensity would often wind around your limbs, snaking into the very depths of your bones until you were entirely drained and devoid of peace, a shell of the person you were accustomed to being. 

You had dealt with this complication on your own for the most part. You’d come home after a long day, and attempt to find yourself again through chamomile tea, lavender mists, and a warm blanket. 

Of course, there were days where even these measures could not suffice in curing your weariness. 

That’s where Spencer Reid came in. 

He’d only been your roommate at first. With the economy going as it was, it was simply more practical to find one, rather than renting alone. He’d responded to an ad you’d put up, and you accepted. The process was easy, honestly. You had no qualms about sharing your living space with another person, and even found the arrangement enjoyable at times. Spencer was well-mannered, never missed rent, and wasn’t even at home most of the time. When he was, he was quiet. Sweet. 

Through time, you found yourself becoming friends with the man. The conversation was light and easy, and in a rare turn of events, you started to open up to him. Even more surprisingly, he returned the favor, adding to the understanding that was fast growing between the two of you. It seemed only natural, since both of you were made naturally vulnerable by the circumstances of your situation. You’d come to your apartment, drop the mask of the day, and see that Spencer was already there, becoming an extension of the solace you found at home. Soon enough, the comfort of your couch was simply synonymous to him as well. 

It didn’t take long for Spencer to notice the anxieties that would plague you when a deadline came about, or when you simply fixated on an issue for too long. The way your bedroom light wouldn’t shut until 4 AM, or how you’d pace in the kitchen, so wired that your body denied you the rest you so desperately needed. He noticed the dark circles, the occasional irritability (followed by an apology, of course), the headaches, everything. Which is why he thought nothing of it to suggest some remedies for your troubles over breakfast one day. 

“Caffeine can actually increase stress, if you weren’t aware.” He says, eyeing your second cup of coffee that morning. “There’s actually a large amount of data that indicates you should limit caffeine intake, especially if you’re already anxious.” 

You narrow your eyes, furrowing your brows slightly. “Says who?” You retort, not quite ready to give up your chosen beverage. 

“The NIH, Penn State, the AMA-” 

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I got it.” You interrupt, knowing you’d started a losing battle the moment you’d questioned him.  “I’ll try to cut down on it.” 

He grins, satisfied with how the interaction had played out. You, on the other hand, started to drift farther away from your current setting. You swallow, putting down your coffee cup before rubbing your eyes, a soft sigh escaping you. 

“Something wrong?” Spencer asks, cautiously, his voice soft. 

You tsk, shaking your head and shrugging a bit at your own dilemma. “It's just.. I’m already so tired. I’m exhausted and the day’s barely begun.” You pause, unable to articulate just how fatigued you were.  “It’s like I can already feel the mid-afternoon headache I’m going to get later, and it hasn’t even started yet.” You hate the way you sound, longing for the day you could fully relax for even a fraction of a second. 

“You’d probably be a lot less tired if you slept a little more.” Spencer suggests, and you shoot him a death glare. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” You snap. “I’m trying. It’s not that easy. It’s just-” You groan, stopping yourself as the quick realization dawns on you that you’ve misdirected your frustrations. There’s a wave of shame rising up almost immediately, heating your cheeks up in regret. 

“I’m sorry, Spencer. Sorry. That’s unfair of me. I know you’re just looking out for me.” You murmur, taking a deep breath to calm your senses. 

“Hey, don’t worry.” He says, his voice low and compassionate. “I get it. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.” 

You nod, closing your eyes as you continue to breathe. He continues to speak, his voice remaining warmhearted. 

“There are actually quite a few ways to alleviate stress. Some experts recommend meditation, exercise and yoga. I wouldn’t mind doing those with you, if you were interested.” He offers, as he continues to ramble, lost in his own explanation in the hopes of being of service to you. “Some experts even name sex as a useful stress reliever, due to the endorphins and oxytocin released after completion.” 

You give a fruitless laugh. “Jesus, I wish. I don’t have the time to try and find someone willing to do that for me.” 

Spencer goes quiet, and you finally open your eyes. You’re met with his stare, trained on your form, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“What?” You ask, upon returning his gaze. 

He clears his throat, shaking his head, as if he was ridding himself of a passing thought. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m sorry. I hope you do find something that works for you though. I hate seeing you like this.” 

You soften at his concern. “Thanks, Spencer.” You say, the affection in your voice unmistakable. “Maybe I’ll end up taking on.. Yoga? That seems doable, right?” 

He smiles. “Yoga. Right.” 

The days pass on, until you find yourself in a similar scenario you’ve been in one too many times. You’re pacing the kitchen, a small clock reading that it was currently 2 AM. You couldn’t even really decipher the source of tonight’s anxiety– all you know is you feel it, and you feel it deeply. 

That’s when a voice breaks through the darkness, halting your movements altogether. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Spencer’s soft, slightly deeper voice. 

“Oh, yeah.” You call out, despite the growing tightness in your chest. “I’m fine. You can go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.” 

He shakes his head, scratching his head as he makes his way towards you. “It’s nothing.” He reassures. “I needed to pee anyway. What’s going on with you?” He inquires, gently. 

You rub at your chest, biting your lip. “The usual.” 

“Work?” He asks, softly. 

You purse your lips. “I’m not even sure at this point. Just really anxious.” 

His expression softens. A beat of silence passes between the two of you. 

“I’m- um. I’m willing to help.” He stammers out, suddenly seeming much more nervous than he was a moment ago. 

You give a dejected smile. “That’s sweet, Spencer, but I dunno. I think I have to deal with this on my own.” 

“No, I mean. I can help. I’m willing to help. To do that for you. I’m your friend. I want to help.” He restates, his voice a little urgent. 

“Willing to do what?” You ask, wholly confused with where he was going with this. 

He takes a breath. “Sex. Or, an orgasm, at least. You said no one you knew would be willing to help you like that. I am. If you want.” He blurts out. 

You stand there, momentarily shocked into silence. You’re suddenly able to recall the conversation you’d had, just a few days prior, and realize what he was trying to say.  Here you were, in your kitchen, with your friend- your roommate, and he was selflessly offering himself to you. For sex. For de-stressing sex.  He sounded so earnest, despite the obvious lewdness of his offer, and the juxtaposition made your head spin. 

“I..” You start, your voice caught in your throat. 

“You don’t have to feel compelled to say yes. I’m just offering. I want to help you.” He interjects, his voice still carrying that unselfishness you’d known from the very beginning. 

“I.. no. I mean, yes. I want to say yes.” You find yourself admitting after a moment. “But.. are you sure? It’s.. I mean, it’s sex, Spencer.” You whisper. 

“I’m aware.” He says, matching your softer tone. “I’m okay with that. Are you?” 

You take a breath. Looking up at him, you take in his slightly tousled hair illuminated by the soft moonlight that drifted in through your apartment windows. His white sleep shirt was crumpled, and even in the darkness that enveloped you, you could decipher the kindness in his eyes, his mere presence bringing a shade of ease into you as you spoke to him. 

“Yes.” You murmur out, the words flowing out with no hesitation. “I’m okay with that.” 

“Can I kiss you?” He says, gently, and your nod of affirmation is almost immediate. 

He steps closer and cups your cheek, before pressing his lips against yours gently. It’s a sweeter kiss, something that, despite never saying out loud, you would have expected from him. His mouth moves languidly against yours, before pulling away, slightly out of breath. 

“Kissing actually helps to reduce cortisol.” He murmurs. “It indirectly lowers stress as a result. Is it working?” 

And true to his words, you realized that the tightness in your chest had faded somewhat, no longer blaring with the intensity you had just felt a few minutes prior. An entirely new feeling settled within you- an ache, a need for this man and what he brought to you. 

“Yeah. It’s working.” You mumble out. 

As if he could read your mind, Spencer gently takes your hand. “Let’s move to the couch, yeah?” He murmurs, already leading you to his spot of preference. 

He gently guides you to sit on the couch, quickly finding your lips once again to exchange some soft kisses along the way. His hands drift up and down your back, fingertips light and tender. His every touch speaks to something more, to an unspoken dedication that you’d never felt before until this moment.

To something that maybe extended beyond the original purpose of your rendezvous. “Is this alright?” He asks, his tone hushed and reverent. 

You nod, almost in a trance. He was so gentle, so reassuring. He was exactly what you needed. 

His lips find yours again and you respond eagerly, letting your hands tangle into the mess of brown hair that sat atop his head. He let out a small groan as your fingers slightly tugged on the strands, sending a thrill through you. 

He starts to trail the kisses down your neck, seeking out more sensitive spots that could bring you into a further state of rest and repose.  Everything about you spurred him on, it seemed. He paid attention to every noise, every movement– his ultimate goal seeming to hinge on your pleasure throughout this. 

Of course, you respond accordingly to the dedication, a soft gasp or whimper escaping you when he would mouth at the perfect spot, which would only cause him to increase his actions tenfold, leading to even more response on your end. 

The perfect feedback loop driving you to pliancy and ecstasy all at once.

His lips begin to drift down, and you realize he’s settling in between your legs now, hands on the waistband of your sleep clothes, urging you to lie down completely, which you do. 

“Gonna take these off now.” He whispers, looking up at you between your legs. 

“Please.” You respond, waiting with bated breath. 

He manages to pull down the last barrier between you two, before being met with the mess he’d created. His lips parted as his fingers trailed lightly over your wet slit, your arousal evident on his finger as he marveled on the effect he could have on you. 

“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He whispers, as if his eyes are set upon something precious, something worthy of worship. And in a way, isn’t that exactly what he’d set out to do the moment he’d placed his face between your thighs? 

He loops his arms around your thighs, before slowly allowing his tongue to dart out, delicately, tracing the wetness of your pussy. A moan slips out of you, low and needy, and that’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s diving in, devouring your cunt like a man starved. 

“Spencer.” You gasp out. You say his name like prayer, like he is god-given, because in this moment, he is. 

His tongue traces your clit in circles, before directly placing his lips over the swollen bud, applying some light suction. The tenderness in the action, the way his eyes flit upto yours, watching your gaze for the utmost reassurance that he was doing right by you, only hurdle you closer and closer to your pleasurable end. 

It’s almost as if you’re floating, your back arching as his face stubbornly stays buried in your cunt, lapping at your wetness insistently. He wants your release just as bad as you do, and it’s clear he’ll do anything for the sweetness that comes with you falling apart in his arms. 

“Oh god.” You moan out- how is it possible to feel so airy, and yet so present all at once? To feel every movement of Spencer’s warm, wet tongue lavishing your clit, and still be somewhere else entirely- a new height of pleasure you had sorely needed all along. 

One of his hands leaves the iron-grip it had your thighs in, letting his fingers drift towards your entrance. He slips the digits in, slowly pumping into you, only adding to the overwhelming rapture you found yourself in. Your eyes shoot open, and you find yourself writhing against him. 

“Spencer- oh god. Please, please.” You babble out, legs starting to tense with the beginnings of your orgasm. 

He only pulls away enough to murmur softly. “That’s it.” His fingers continue their steady pace into you, his grip on your thigh keeping you planted to the mattress. “I got you, love. Come for me.”

With nothing else to say, he resumes eating you out, and the combination of his fingers and mouth finally barrels you towards your orgasm, shuddering as it rips through you, as your every sense is clouded- with this, with him. 

It’s only until you’ve ridden out the entirety of your orgasm that he pulls away. Sitting upright, he leans forward to caress your jaw, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the flushed appearance your face had taken on in the throes of gratification. 

“Feeling better?” He asks, softly. 

“Entirely.” You whisper back, almost in awe. Not only at how well it worked, but how adoringly he stared at you, it being enough to stop your heart in your chest. Did he always look like this? How did you never notice? 

“Can I return the favor?” You implore, already beginning to get up, but Spencer pushes you back down lightly, shaking his head. 

“You’re tired.” He says, as if his word was fact, despite these being your feelings that were being spoken about. “Right now, the oxytocin coursing through your body is priming you perfectly for sleep, and God knows you need it.” He chuckles out.

You realize that he’s right, and for the first time, you feel the fatigue that comes naturally with sleep, as opposed to the restless nights you’d been dealing with. You still feel disappointed though, feeling a sting of rejection as you’re unable to touch him back. Still, your tiredness is undeniable, and so you nod. 

He gets up, finding a blanket to lay on top of you, before kneeling beside your face. He looks at you with subtle veneration, before letting his lips brush against your forehead. 

“I’ll take you up on your offer tomorrow, though, if that’s alright.” He murmurs. “When you’re rested.” 

Your smile is immediate. “Deal.” You whisper out. 

He looks at you for another beat, before letting his knuckles brush against your cheek, slowly retreating to his bedroom, as to let you get the rest you so desperately needed. 

You close your eyes, amazed by the tranquility that came with Spencer. How simple intimacy came with him, as if that’s how it should’ve been all along. 

You know you’ll ponder on this fact in greater detail later on, but for now, you relished in serenity of the afterglow. 

“Spencer Reid.” You think. “What divine comfort you are.” 

HOOOLY SHIT. how long has it been since i uploaded? a long time? i think. hahahaha. in between traveling, [redacted life updates], and even more, i just wasn't very inspired to write. i hope this speaks to some of you, and i hope it was enjoyable to read. as usual, any likes, comments, reblogs are so so so deeply appreciated. feedback as well! thank you so so so much for reading regardless, i am eternally grateful for any and all support <3 (oh also haha. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins friends with benefits challenge! check it out.)

[monstersholygrail]

It broke your heart to leash and put a muzzle on your Werewolf bf. But ultimately you really didn’t have any other option.

Not when he was growling and snarling at anyone who dare to look at you too long. Protecting his territory and constantly preparing to fight off any human who he thinks is planning to take you away from him.

Even now with a leash attached to his pretty collar and the muzzle fit snuggly on his face, he still pulls and tugs on the leash, growling lowly as other hybrids pass by on your daily walks around the park. But at least now you nor anyone else has to worry about things getting out of hand.

Or at least that’s what you think…

Your bf is silently stewing, practically seething at the fact that you’ve done this to him. His bad mood only increasing the amount of times he snarls at his competitors for your affection that pass you by.

His limitations only serve to remind him what you’ve done to him. And boy does it make him want revenge. To teach you who’s really the one in charge here as the desire to make you submit roars inside of him.

That feeling only grows as your walk continues and by the time the two of you have gotten back to your home, your bf is practically vibrating in his skin. The need to pounce on you and mount you pumps through his veins and electrifies the urge.

You gently take off the leash and the muzzle and he finally feels free. Your soft smile and sweet touch never leave his face as you hang them up. For a second his heart warms at your affection but the clank of metal rings in his ears and he’s reminded he’ll have to wear them again for your walk later.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” You ask lightly, leaning in and giving him a chaste kiss before turning around and heading to your room.

Your bf’s eyes follow you closely like a predator hunting their prey. He smirks wickedly and lifts the leash off the hook before following you, tail wagging in excitement thinking about how he’s gonna demolish that sweet pussy of yours.

“You deserve a treat for being such a good boy. Can get you some from the kitchen in a minute,” you call out as you flick on the bedroom lights, preparing to change into your pajamas for the night.

At your comment he freezes outside your door, vision flashing till all he sees is red. That was the final straw and before he can stop himself, your bf is swiftly jumping out to pounce on you.

You yelp as his body barrels into yours, pinning you to the bed before you can even blink. He chuckles darkly, claws digging into the flesh of your wrists to keep you still for him.

“A snack?! No, babygirl, imma take the whole meal. I think I’ve earned it after what you put me through.”

Your eyes widen as you realize where this is coming from. Your body squirms but he pushes his hips against yours and you whine as his cock nudges against your wet folds. His dominating presence turning you on more than you can admit.

“I-it was just a precaution, please,” you beg, though you don’t know what you’re begging for.

But as he takes out the leash he was holding and starts tying it around your wrists, binding them to the bedpost, you know. You’re begging for more.

“Yeah, well I can’t have you squirmin’ ‘round on me. So this is just a precaution,” he mocks with a dangerous smile that has his fangs glittering in the sunlight.

With a harsh tug your bf exposes your messy folds. He runs his fingers down your soaked slit and you cry out, hips jerking up to meet his teasing touch.

“Ahhh, it seems like you’ve been lying to me. You like it when I’m like this. It gets you all hot and wet— fucking hell you’re dripping all over my hand, love.” A rumble moves through his chest as he sees just how desperate you are for him.

Not waiting a moment more he removes his pulsing cock from its sheath and slams himself inside you in the blink of an eye. You moan loudly, body bucking at the sudden intrusion. But the leash and his hands keep you tied down as he pounds his length deep inside your pussy.

Whimpers leave you as you’re left defenseless against his attack, his brutal pace jolting your body with each thrust with no way to add to the pleasure he forces onto you. No matter how much you try and squirm it’s no use. You can’t reach him.

“Oh fuck, please. Take the leash off. Let me touch you, please, let me touch you!”

You let out a strangled whine as he starts aiming for the soft spot along your walls. Your bf shushes you gently, a clawed hand moving to hold your neck in a firm grip.

“Sh, sh, sh. No talking. Wouldn’t want me to get the muzzle now,” he rasps as he quickens his pace, leaving you mewling as your back arches unnaturally.

He goes on for what feels like forever. Bringing you to climax over and over again. Only allowing short sounds of pleasure to leave your lips. His grip on your neck squeezing every time you talk until you cum on his cock and it all starts over.

By the time you’re done and he gently removes the leash from your wrists, your body is nothing but a limp bag of bones. Yet you still have the strength to immediately cling onto your bf, keeping him close as he whispers praises in your ear about how good you did for him and how he can’t wait for your next walk so you can do this again.

[kyloxox]

wade wilson x reader x logan howlett

warnings: threesome, double p, no condom, hairpulling, rough, anal, creampie, facial

"He's not going to come in." You whispered in Logan's ear. Logan wanted to protest but your breath on his sensitive skin caused him to force out a breathy sign.

Logan almost felt ashamed at how much of an effect you had on him but he didn't care. It made him hard when you would so obviously brush your ass against his crotch. It made him hard when he saw you stab Wade in the shoulder in the Honda odsessy. It even made him fucking hard and feel pathetic at the same time when you asked him to push on his suit with the sleeves shredded off. And he complied which led you to this moment of you straddling him on Wade's couch.

"He could and he will never let me live this down." He said in his accent. You stood up from him and pull off your shirt revealing your breasts to him. Now you were fully nude in front of him and before you could even say anything he fell to his knees and pulled you closer to him by your thighs until your cunt was placed on his lips.

"Fuck Lo-" He started to lap feverishly at your cunt and you grabbed onto his hair to stabilize him and yourself. Both you and Logan were so entranced in the act you didn't realize another person had joined the room.

"My, my, my what do we have here?" You screamed and jumped as the voice of Wade filled the room. As you jumped you moved slightly out of Logan's grip, thinking he'd stop but he doesn't. He grabs you again and puts you closer to his mouth. "You guys both know that his bathroom is right there." Wade walks from the back of you to your front, seeing you fully exposed. "Like right there." He points to Logan's bedroom in their shared apartment. "What did our fight in the Honda mean nothing guys?"

"Don't act like you haven't done it in worse places." You respond.

"Get lost or actually do something useful asshole." Logan grumbles.

"Well if the old man insists." Wade moves around so his already hard crotch is aligned with your exposed ass. He then talks his gloved hands and reaches around the touch your tits. You moan out as your sensitive nipples catch on the rough material.

"Y'know wolfie, I think this was her plan all along." Wade announces and Logan pulls back. You whine as he stands before you and now you're is a sandwich between the two muscular and tall men.

"Probably, she's such a fucking slut. First time we fucked she begged me not to wear a condom." You dripped recalling the memory so fondly, but Logan acts like it didn't take that much convincing on his side.

"Dude she begged me to fuck her ass." Your eyes go wide as Wade reveals your secret that you'd be fucking him alongside Logan. Logan grows jealous and grabs your chin, and forces you to look at him.

"Huh funny you made it seem like that part of your body was off limits."

"W-" You're about to say something before Logan stops you.

"Ah, ah, ah, good girls don't speak. Now I'm going to claim what is rightly mine. My dick will make your little asshole forget about this scumbag's dick in the first inch inside." He shoves you from in front of Wade so you are bent over the couch. "Do what you want with her but don't get in the way of me."

"Alright Mr.Picky Pants."

Logan roughly pulls himself out of his suit so he is still in it but his cock is fully exposed. Wade admires it and starts to pull his out, stroking it to Logan and yourself. Logan spits on his cock and then takes his fingers and collects the wetness. He moves his fingers up so he can lubricate your tight hole.

"Now be a good girl, and stay still while you take it." He pulls you up by your hair so your back is against your chest "And don't act like a fucking virgin because I now know you aren't one." He lets go of your hair. He starts to push himself slowly inside you. He grabs you once again so your head is against his chest and he can whisper in your ear. "Fucking feel every inch inside of you." You moan out as he goes deeper, deeper, and deeper.

"Fuck Logan."

Wade hasn't moved any muscle in his body except his arm. It's like he's watching his favorite porn in real life. He moves closer to you.

"Wolfie you think you could ugh, release this." Wade grabs Logan's hand that's on your hair and roughly detaches the two. "Think this mouth needs to be occupied." Wade pulls you down so you are eye to eye with this hard and wet cock. You waste no time putting it in your mouth. "Fuck that's it." He moans behind his mask, grabbing your hair. Both men use you to their pleasure and your cunt is wet with it.

Logan becomes more forgiving and as he's close to his release, he moves his finger down to play with your clit. You moan into Wade's cock.

"I want you to come when I come, y/n." Logan grunts out.

"Hey l'm like three steps behind you guys." Wade complains.

"I don't care." Logan roughly responds. "I'm close so you're either coming with me or not coming at all y/n."

"Come in me, I'm so close Logan please."

"Alright fine I'll join you guys too since you seem so excited about it." Wade sarcastically says.

Your wave builds up and up, until you feel your orgasm crach into your body. After you feel the intensity of your own orgasm, you feel full in both your ass and your ass. In the midst of your orgasm, Logan came inside you and Wade came on you.

You all crashed on the couch, all being obviously tired. You grabbed the blanket next to you and wiped off the come. It was silent except for the heavy pants and Wade's voice.

"Shawarma anyone?"

[gaddaboutgriffon]

The Year of the Dragon.

(Name edited, credit to @jedipirateking for the suggestion.)

A joke the fandom has been making for a while is that Tim is forever stuck at 17. What if we make that something the rest of the Batclan notice too? (I am not following cannon.)

It was just after the annual Family picture day and the new group portrait was taking the place of last year’s and looking at it they noticed 15 year old Damian is now almost the same height as Tim. And Tim is pretty much the same as last year.

Jason and Damian take the opportunity to tease Tim calling him a shrimp and other short jokes. Which Tim rolls his eyes and goes to work on a case or something with Wayne industries. But Bruce, Dick, and Alfred are more concerned, may feel guilty thinking letting him be a vigilante stunted his growth. And looking back at the photos they have of him notice that he wasn’t growing as much as a normal teen boy should have.

Bruce decides he is going to be more active in running Wayne Enterprises while Alfred plots to cut back Tim’s coffee limit. And Dick is going to help out coordinate the patrols. (He had to move back to Gotham when the Bludhaven city spirit forced all the people out before the city got blown up. It’s a long story but dick has been really down and unmotivated after that.)

Tim is not taking any of this well, and feels like his family being stifling. So he decided to start going through the basement and vault of Drake manor. Which he has been putting off since he didn’t really have time for it between patrols and WE. And in the family heirlooms vault, shoved way in the back with covered in dust and many other things sitting on top, he finds an oak box with an ornately caved dragon on it. Opening it up he finds it is velvet lined and has a large pendant that looks a silver dragon curled deep violet amethyst egg. And next to the pendant is a scroll made of thin leather.

He pulled out the scroll first and tried to read it but it was too faint of lettering to make out in the somewhat dim vault light. But what little he could make out it it was really old 14th century English and mentioned something about a coming of age. He rolls it back up and puts it aside to instead pick up the pendant. When he touches it there is a faint static shock that surprises him other then that the silver and purple necklace doesn’t seem out of the ordinary.

His phone lets off a chime to remind him that diner is in an hour, so he pack the pendant and scroll back in the box and places it in his bag with a few other items he finds interesting and wanted to look into more later. Then returns to Wayne manor to eat before patrol. It isn’t until he wakes up the next morning he realizes that he should have probably read the scroll before touching the pendant.

He wakes up to knocking on his bedroom door and someone yelling at him to get up. He had gotten into the habit of locking his door back when Damian first moved in. He yelps in surprise, falling over because his center of balance is all out of whack when he tried to stand. Now he is fully awake and takes stock of himself.

Scales?

Scales! Why are his arms covered in scales?! His hands look like a mix of paws and talons. He struggles out of the sheets to look at the rest of himself. His pjs are stretched and torn in places to accommodate the new digigrade shape of his legs. Not to mention he now has a long tail and wings and a longer neck. He rushes to his personal bathroom and awkwardly stands up on his two legs so he can get a good look in the mirror. And yep that is a distressed dragon face looking back at him. He catches himself making a weird keening sound as he plops down to sit on the bathroom floor.

Moments later he hears the sound of his bedroom door’s lock being picked. Bruce calling his name and Duke explaining he had heard animal noises from the room. Tim scrabbles to try and get the balcony door unlocked so he can escape and find a way to change back before anyone can see him, but moving on all fours and the new talon hands he is not used too take up too much time and the bedroom door is open.

Living in a family of vigilantes, their reaction time and fight or flight instincts are quick, and Tim is tackled to the floor by Duke while the others start looking at every inch of the room for clues as to what happened to their seemingly missing brother.

Bruce is looking at the dragon in Tim’s pajamas for a second before saying, “Tim? Is that you chum?”

Tim tries to answer but all that comes out is a warbling chuff. Which takes Tim by surprise and has him nearly start to cry in panic. He can’t Talk!

“Hey, you’re ok Tim. Deep breaths. Duke get off him. Breath with me Tim. In 1, 2, 3, 4. Out 1, 2, 3, 4.” Bruce spoke in his soothing a scared child voice. Tim was half annoyed at himself for how much it helped.

“B, Look at this!” Dick said holding the box with the scroll and dragon pendent instead open. Now the gem is a very pale see through purple with only a sliver on the bottom the original color.

They take it down to the bat cave and get to work deciphering the scroll. Turns out the Drake family line are descendants of some ancient medieval prince named Aragorn and that there was a family tradition that on the sixteenth birthday the child would have to live a year in dragon form to let it catch up in maturity. But after the dragon form catches up they will be able to freely shift between forms. But if they don’t follow the tradition they don’t age properly, and the longer they put off the tradition the longer they have to spend as a dragon.

And that is all I had time for before bed. So who does this affect the family dynamic? What about the relationship between Tim and Damian? How do we bring Danny Phantom into this? Does he think Tim is a ghost dragon at first?

[sinstae]

Sweet Dreams ☁️

Pairings | L&DS!Sylus , L&DS!Zayne , x fem. reader

Genre | ☁️ fluff, 💋 smut

Word Count | 2.7k

Warnings | ⚠️ minors DNI ⚠️ , smut smut SMUT, established relationship, Zylus, poly, throuple, Dom!Sylus, Dom!Zayne, pet names, size difference, Sylus teasing 😩, use of Evol, manhandling, stressed!Zayne, voyeurism, male & fem. oral, masturbation, rough sex, squint for face fucking, creampie, bigdick!Sylus, needy!Zayne, aftercare, cute couple 🤧

🔖 m.list♡

🌄 ; Till Dawn♡

a/n ; I hate being sick, this SUCKS. Thank you everyone who participated in the poll! I will be doing more of those to gauge what my audience likes so yeah please feel free to leave feedback via comments/asks, I strive to improve each time! Thank you again & hope you 'njoy! c;

"Luke! Kieran!"

I belt out their names as I storm out my bedroom down the vast hall with my crow plushie in two parts. They expressed how cute they thought it was and it seems like their jealousy ended in decapitating the poor crow.

As I turn the corner into the living room I catch a glimpse of their coats flying in the wind from their rushed steps into Sylus' hallway leading to his office.

Off limits to me.

"Of course! Run to Daddy! You damn rough handed freaks!" I slap the dark wooden doors in frustration and if his office wasn't soundproofed I'm sure I'd hear them cackling.

I spin around, ready to storm back to my room, but my face collides with a hard sternum. I look up and meet Sylus' crimson eyes. His face is stoic and neutral yet I can almost hear his questions.

"Ah~ Sylus. Welcome home- uh I promise I wasn't trying to snoop or anything." He raises an eyebrow, looking over my head at the double doors before looking back down at me with the corner of his lips rising.

"Kitty got her claws out for the troublemakers again?" He pulls a hand from his pockets to gently pat my head.

"Look!" My anger that simmered down at the sight of him returns as I lift the crow plushie, dramatically holding the two pieces together then separating them. Mephisto materializes on Sylus' left shoulder with a caw. "I know Toto, we're gonna get them back."

Sylus chuckles and with the hand he was using to pat my head he gently pinches my cheek. "Darling you know I can just get you one from the supply."

"Of course I know that but this one was special. You got it for me when the collection first dropped through the claw machine." I roll my eyes and look down at the sad plushie.

"You're right, Kitten. I'll have a word with those two." His long finger tucks under my chin into a grip with his thumb as he guides my eyes back to his. "I have to ask though. Who's Daddy?"

I completely understand why he's asking but it's how he's asking. Eyes full of amusement, voice dropping into a whisper and I notice the quick glance he takes at my lips. No denying it now.

"You."

"Me?" Sylus chuckles again and Mephisto takes flight back down the hallway. "Mmm, unless you have an announcement for us both, I don't think so." Without moving or looking away from me he opens the door behind me slightly by using his Evol. "Luke, Kieran come out."

They clumsily slip out of the office, closing it behind them with their heads bowed. I look back and glare at the both of them while Sylus returns his hands to his pockets and stands to his full height. It's cute to see him be all soft around me and Zayne but others he rarely shows that side with Luke and Kieran being an exception.

"Apologize."

"We're real sorry Miss!" They speak in unison and I turn to face them with my arms crossed. They bow deeper and a satisfied smile graces my lips.

"This is me forgiving you but we certainly aren't even." They say nothing as expected and suddenly my hips are within Sylus' strong grasp and he lifts me from the floor, resting my ass onto his chest as he turns and walks away from them. "Sylus!"

I sway a bit, fear striking my heart that I'll teeter over making me instinctively grip his silver locks. He hisses, tightening his hold on my thighs. I apologize and smooth his hair down with a pat.

"'Evening, Doctor." Zayne?

"Good evening. Something happened?" I check my wrist and my workout band reads back at me a bold 7:00 PM. He's home very early.

"Zayne! Welcome home!"

"Thank you, Snowflake. What do you have there? Oh-" Zayne looks shocked to see the crow in my grasp.

"Yeah, the twins. They were probably fighting over my plushie and welp. . ." Zayne walks over to us after sitting his briefcase down on the black marbled counter top of the bar in the living room. He doesn't even question me perched on Sylus' chest and since he can't reach my lips he opts for pressing a kiss to my calf.

"Shame. I can repair him for you if you'd like." I nod and thrust the plushie into his hold and he grabs it with gentle hands. "I can have this done on my off day."

"Now if you'll excuse us, I have to talk to this Kitten about a certain Daddy." I slap a hand over his mouth a bit too late, not expecting Sylus to tell Zayne.

Poor Zayne's eyes widen, surely thinking the worst without context. "Has the implant failed? After all this time-?"

"No, no-"

"I wish."

"Sy!" He chuckles and playfully bites my thigh. "No it hasn't, I was teasing Luke and Kieran."

"Wanna join us?" Sylus tilts his head towards our bedroom and Zayne doesn't waste a second nodding once. "Eager are we?"

"I had a stressful surgery today." Zayne loosens his black tie and three buttons as he walks past us to lead the way.

"Did it go well?" I ask.

"It was a success. Just. . . My sleep wasn't great last night." He releases a deep sigh as he pushes open our bedroom doors with one palm and closes them behind us.

"Well of course not you- Ah~!" Sylus moves quick with dismounting me as if I were a cheerleader and tosses me gently onto the soft bed. "~Sy, jeez. But you slept at the office again. We missed you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't plan for it but I was able to fit in another surgery that way." Zayne is taking his time yet his movements are quick with precision as he undresses himself starting with his sleek wristwatch and vest following to join the injured plushie on the desk.

"You work so hard, Zay, you should really come with us to the bungalow. It's never too- ah~ late." Sylus is kneeling at the end of the bed with my panties in his back pocket and lips against my clit. He's sucking so softly it's leaving me on the line between pleasure and overstimulation.

The lit fireplace isn't helping the warmth rising beneath my skin causing me to scrunch up Zayne's sweater I'd been drowning in. It helps me see Sylus better this way; his long pink tongue wet with both his saliva and my cum creates the prettiest gloss to his lips. I moan as he licks his flat tongue harshly against my clit causing me to grind down and arch into him.

"I gave it some thought." I hear the drag of a chair and I look over at Zayne to see him sitting down into the dark red velvet arm chair near the foot of the bed. His black button up is completely open exposing his chest and his slacks are undone, his hand rubbing over his black briefs. "I'll join you both."

"Come." I reach my hand out and Sylus grabs it, pulling it back down to my side. I look down at him and he pulls away with a wet string, licking his lips.

"He wants to watch, Sweetheart." I look back over at Zayne, his head slightly hanging forward with his hand now beneath his briefs.

"You do?"

"He does. I saw it soon as we locked eyes earlier. He allowed me to see into his thoughts. So you," Sylus leans onto the bed with one knee and helps me out of the sweater fully to leave me naked under both their eyes. "Relax that pretty head of yours and be our good girl." Oh.

Zayne wants to watch how things are when Sylus and I are intimate. I want to get lost in the thoughts of Zayne stepping from his comfort zone to be in place of Sylus, handling me with less care but Sylus keeps me rooted.

He delivers a firm slap to my inner thigh and the sharp pain warms into my skin. "You were bad today too, Y/N." His rough hands slide up and down the outside of my thighs, gripping at my love handles. "Fighting with Luke and Kieran again, tsk."

"I wasn't-"

"Silence." His tone is demanding but gentle. I clench my thighs and blink up at him. "I know you're gonna tell me you didn't start it and I understand but-" He forces my thighs apart and leans his other knee onto the bed, red and black engulfing his frame in seconds to dissipate and reveal his naked body. "I believe I told you three to behave when we aren't at the estate."

Sylus' large frame cages me in and Zayne still has a clear view of us from the side. "I prepared you enough, tonight I'm giving it all." Oh fuck.

I suck in a deep breath as I feel his tip breach my opening, stretching me out over the warm skin. He barely gives me enough time to adjust as he sinks in with one fluid thrust upwards. A sharp pain shoots through my lower tummy and I try to push up using my heels to no avail with Sylus' grip on my hips.

"Deep- too deep, Sy- ah~!" I can barely focus my vision as my eyes start to water but I can still see the smirk adorning his beautiful face. I reach out to him and he allows me as I run my hands up and down his torso as if soothing him would soothe me through his deep strokes.

"How cute, are you telling me that's where I am?" He teases with a quick thrust, making my body jerk and clit come in contact with his pelvis creating the sweetest pleasure. A loud drawn out moan leaves my lips and rings like a mating call into Sylus' ears. He grabs my face in a firm grip and we make eye contact, his eyes burning a bright red as my head turns fuzzy, body relaxing. "As you wish."

Sylus tucks his hands underneath me to grip my ass and elevate me from the bed, angling me until his skin is flush against mine just how I like it. My eyes roll back as he starts at a bruising pace, working my nerves until they're red hot and tingling from my building orgasm.

I bring my hands up to squeeze at my breast, just as he'd foreseen. Sylus slides his right hand up to grip the back of my knee and bends it towards my chest to reveal more of our bodies connecting to Zayne. He has his dick out now, leaking precum all over his hand mixed with his own spit as he strokes himself in time with Sylus' thrusts.

"There! Fuck! So good, Sir- mmph!" Sylus releases under my knee leaving my foot bracing against his chest as he slides two fingers into my mouth.

"Such a dirty mouth. Suck." I leave his fingers coated in my saliva and he brings the same ones down to toy with my clit, breathy moans struggling to leave my throat as he knocks the wind from me with a numbing orgasm. "Breathe," He lowers us back down to the sheets while stretching my leg back down to lean over me and blow air onto my face.

I take a moment to catch my breath as he slowly rocks into me and peppers my face with kisses. "Green. . ." I moan softly.

"Good girl. On your knees, face Zayne." He slowly pulls out of me taking thick strings of cum and saliva with him as he helps me into position, fighting against my aching muscles. He moves into position behind me sliding his tip up and down my folds, snagging at my hole to thrust in slightly then repeat. I tap my foot against the bed in frustration, shaking slightly from the sensitivity and wanting him back inside filling me so perfect.

In one abrupt thrust he gives me what I want and Zayne is standing in front of me now, still stroking his long dick, teasing his tip with his thumb. His other hand reaches out and he tucks his thumb into my mouth to press down on my tongue.

Sylus props up a leg, planting it firmly onto the bed and pounds me into an arch, Zayne's hand following as I suck and drool down his wrist.

"So damn pretty." His hips stutter as a small squirt of cum lands onto my cheek, head pressed into the bed. "Look at me, Y/N." I blink as the tear swelling at my waterline spills onto his hand while he guides me with his thumb to look up. "Open."

He removes his thumb and coats my lips in my own saliva as if it's lip gloss then he guides just the tip of his dick past my lips, jerking the rest of him off. Zayne throws his head back, pleasure clearly taking over him as much as it's taking me from Sylus' constant unyielding pace.

Sylus spanks me hard, causing me to clench around him, hips stuttering as I grow too tight for him to properly thrust. Another spank for that and he rubs a hand over my burning cheek, pressing kisses to my spine as his pace finally slows into deep thrust to ease my suction.

"This ass will me the death of me, Sweetie. It colors so well, mhm, the recoil just right." I moan around Zayne as Sylus thrusts into my cervix, remaining still there as he presses a kiss to the back of my head. "Ready?" I can barely decide if I am, knowing he's about to grow another inch when he releases into my womb.

Thing is, Sylus will have his way whether I respond or not. I give a weak nod as I keep my eyes on Zayne who's looking down, sweat gathered along his collarbones and torso to match his flushed face. It's scrunched in pleasure, mouth agape as he releases heavy puffs of air, eyes zeroed in on my lips wrapped around him.

Sylus' hand slides up from my lower tummy between my breast to grip my throat, raising me higher for Zayne to slip further into my mouth, the man releasing a sweet moan as he now leans a knee onto the bed from his weakening stance feeling his own climax approaching.

"Take it all." Sylus whispers into my ear then kisses down to my soft spot to relax me further as he starts to grow an inch further into my cervix, thrusting harshly in three swift movements as he fills me with his cum. I suck Zayne harder, starting to fight against what little oxygen I have just as I feel him grow stiff against my tongue then one last thrust as he fills my mouth.

I suddenly tighten around Sylus, sucking him in a bit deeper and trapping him there as another orgasm rips through me. He groans into my neck and eases me off of Zayne by the throat, closing my mouth before any spill could happen.

"Swallow. Good girl. So precious, Y/N. You did so good for us." A soft kiss to my temple. "I know you're tired Sweetie, rest. I'll clean you up." I hum and flop down onto the bed, nuzzling into the warm sheets as Sylus gently pulls out of me, propping a pillow beneath me to stop any mess from hitting the bed.

I hear them moving around but slowly I feel the exhaustion taking over. My limbs are jello and even if I could move I don't want to. In my half asleep state I feel a warm towel cleaning between my legs and my face then more moving around until I'm being lifted and laid properly into the bed beneath the sheets with Zayne spooning me and Sylus' chest beneath my head.

Zayne presses kisses to the back of my head and neck, inhaling deeply as he intertwines our legs. In my last moments of consciousness I hear Sylus' deep, sultry voice. "Daddy loves you, sweet dreams."

[fastandcarlos]

The Biggest Tease : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: you're all for supporting max's career, but isn't a sex ban just a step too far?

“Stop right there,” Max called out as soon as he watched you walk down the stairs. Your face told him everything, your plan of mischief etched upon your face, unable to hide it.

You took a seat beside him on the sofa, resting your hand against the top of his leg. With two weeks off, you thought you were finally going to get your boyfriend all to yourself, that was until the seeming third wheel in your relationship got involved. Brad.

“This is ridiculous,” you huffed as Max kept his eyes on you, refusing to acknowledge where your hand was trailing. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“It’s just part of the job of dating a world champion,” he tried his best to joke.

Max almost felt sorry for you as you looked helplessly at him, hoping that somehow, he’d try and bend the rules. Brad was determined to keep Max in peak physical condition during the small break, and although you knew his job meant a lot to Max, you were confident you could find a solution that kept you both happy.

You grabbed the pillow beside you, admitting defeat and holding it close to your body. Max kept his eye on you as you did so, desperately wanting to reach out and give you what you wanted. Was it worth the scolding that he’d get back at headquarters? Probably.

“Max,” you whined, scuffing your feet along the bedroom floor as you found him sat in his gaming chair a few hours later.

“Hi sweetheart,” he hummed, spinning his chair around as he paused his game.

You perched on the end of the bed, folding your arms across your chest with a pout on your face. Straight away Max tapped his lap, inviting you over. You didn’t need to be asked twice as you jumped over, feeling his strong arms wrap around your waist to keep you in position.

“Playing anything good?” You enquired as you studied his set up in front of you.

“Nothing you’d enjoy,” Max assured you, pressing a gentle kiss against your shoulder. “It’s unlike you to come and take an interest in what I’m playing anyway.”

Your shoulders shrugged as you leant further back against Max’s chest, shuffling in his lap as you made yourself comfortable. As you did so, a faint intake of breath came from behind you, your movement taking Max by surprise.

You slowly turned your bright eyes to meet Max’s, catching his bottom lip being bitten by his teeth. His head shook slowly at you, knowing full well what you were trying to do, as if to tell you that you didn’t even need to bother.

“It’s only a couple more days until race day,” Max tried his best to remind you, but you were beyond waiting any longer. You shifted your body so that your lips could reach his jawline, kissing against it gently.

You were all for supporting Max, encouraging him to the best driver he could be, but your patience had been tested to its limit.

“Babe,” Max sighed as you continued to capture his attention.

“What? I’m not doing anything,” you innocently defended, sniggering to yourself.

“I love you, but we can’t do this.”

“Do what?” You quizzed, pulling away from Max so you could see the expression on his face. You could read him like a book, as serious as he wanted to be, his eyes were pleading with you not to stop.

“Are you going to explain this to Brad?”

“You mean am I going to explain to Brad how annoyingly irresistible my boyfriend is? Absolutely,” you chuckled, pressing your hands against Max’s chest.

Max’s head tilted back as you moved one of your hands to brush through his hair, tugging gently at the knots that had formed throughout the day. He soon found himself losing all control, a habit of his whenever you were around.

Soon enough Max’s hands were resting on your waist, refusing to let you move away from him. A smile of satisfaction appeared on your face as you looked at him again, a knowing look on his face.

“I hate what you do to me,” he whispered, secretly loving the way you tried to push all of his buttons.

“Me? What did I do?” You questioned, shuffling slightly again. “All I wanted to do was come and see what you were up to.”

Max’s eyes rolled as you tried your best to play innocent with him. He pulled you closer towards him, his hot breath tickling just underneath your ear, “two weeks is a long time without sex, right?”

Your head nodded straight away as he whispered, as much as you wanted to try and convince Max that you had full control around him, you didn’t. You were losing your mind; Max was so close and yet so far away.

Max’s hand trailed underneath the shirt that you were wearing, fingertips brushing against your skin. “I’m sorry I ever made you wait for me,” he hummed.

“I can support the diets, the exercise, and even the sleepless nights of different time zones, but sex is wear I draw the line,” you chuckled, hearing Max’s giggles mix in with your own. “Does Brad not realise what an irresistible man you are?”

Max’s eyes rolled as you continued to laugh away to yourself, “maybe you should tell him all about it at the next team briefing?”

“Does this mean that the ban is over?” You asked, a wave of relief washing over you as Max’s head nodded in reply to you.

The look on your face reminded Max exactly why he found it so difficult to control himself around you in the first place, especially after ten days of trying his best to distance himself.

“Brad will forgive me…I’m a desperate man,” Max laughed as he stood up from his chair, holding you tightly in his arms as he headed for your bed.

“Trust me, you’re not the only one whose desperate.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[archangeldyke-all]

Based off part one that just got released…

Sevika coming home with Jinx and isha because they have no where to stay and she’s not very happy about it but, you welcome them home with open arms and you guys kinda have a little family dynamic going on

-💌

CUTE

men and minors dni

it's a little awkward when sevika comes tumbling through your front door with two kids in tow... only because you were waiting for her on the couch in lingerie.

sevika gasps, jinx starts to cackle, and the little kid holding onto jinx's back just waves at you, too young to know what they just walked in on.

sevika sprints to your side, an excited glimmer in her eyes as she licks her lips and gets a good look at you, before she covers you up in her poncho. jinx is still laughing in the doorway when you're finally clothed.

"hey, jinx." you greet, rubbing your neck in embarrassment. jinx snorts and waves at you. "w-who's your friend?" you ask, pointing to the kid on her back.

sevika groans next to you, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. jinx sighs, but you can see the affection buried just below the surface what she speaks. "tell 'er, kid." she says, nudging the girl.

"h-hi." the baby whispers, waving at you. "'m isha." she says.

you grin, stepping forward to wave back at isha. fuck she's cute, her big gold eyes glimmering with excitement as you approach her. "well, ms. isha. it looks like you got my girls into some trouble." you say.

isha giggles and jinx smirks a bit. you've always had a soft spot for jinx, and lately, it seems like sevika's been feeling the same. if there's one thing sevika knows about it's losing a father figure-- she couldn't stop herself from lending a helping hand to the teen.

so: jinx has been over for a lot of dinners lately, crashing on the couch once or twice a week, using your bath on occasion and, sometimes, coming over just to chat.

"we got inna fight!" isha announces, wiggling a bit on jinx's back. you quickly shoot a glare at sevika and she rolls her eyes.

"you did!? did you win?" you ask. isha nods enthuastically, her little miners' hat clattering to the ground.

"i shot a gun!" she says.

"you what!?" you ask, glaring at jinx and sevika. both of them wear the same exasperated look on their faces, sevika raising her flesh arm in surrender.

"she didn't. she held a gun. stupidly. i told you to stay on the fuckin' balcony." sevika says, glaring at isha. the girl pouts, and jinx clicks her tongue.

"oh please. i heard the stories about you as a kid, sevika." jinx says. "it's not like i was any better." she mumbles.

you sigh and tug jinx into your home, leading her and isha to the couch. "c'mon. the couch is a pull out, i'm sure both of you can fit."

"what!? no-- isha's not-- we're not-- i'm fine!" jinx insists. you and sevika both snort, and jinx grunts and rolls her eyes. "fine, whatever. we'll stay... but only if you make that stir fry shit again." jinx relents, settling isha down on the couch before flopping down on it herself.

isha immediately crawls into jinx's lap, starting to fiddle with her bangs. sevika moves to start helping you in the kitchen, and when jinx thinks there's no one left to see, she leans forward and kisses isha's forehead, smiling softly.

"so... you just gonna keep bringing home strays?" you tease in the kitchen, hip checking sevika as you spark the stove. she groans.

"oh, fuck off. you know you're thrilled to play family."

"'course i am. you're a hot mom babe. what'd jinx call it? a milf?" you ask. sevika snorts despite herself, shaking her head in amusement. "next time you two get into some shit though, you're leaving the kid with me, understand?"

sevika chuckles and kisses your cheek. "whatever you say, mama bear... we should probably start keeping the sexy-clothes limited to the bedroom, too."

you groan and elbow your wife. sevika just cackles.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

[feeder86]

Roy's Boy

“Don’t even go there,” warned Roy as he saw Scotty checking out the most handsome guy he had ever seen coming into the bar.

“Who is he?” Scotty marvelled, turning to his much older boss. Tall, muscular and with the face of a supermodel, the guy who had just come in wasn’t in the same league as anyone else there that night.

“He’s bad news,” Roy stated, between grabbing drinks from the refrigerators behind him. “Not the type you want to get messed up with.”

Scotty served his own customers, continuing to glance over their shoulders as the outstandingly beautiful guy began perusing the crowds there that night as if they were pieces of meat.

“Jed’s a bratty jerk who thinks he rules this town just because mommy and daddy own the timber plant,” Roy went on to explain. “I’ve had more than a few run-ins with him, lording about in here like he owns the place. It’s a wonder he can get his head through the door,” he sighed, keeping an eye on the guy as he strutted about.

“His family actually owns the timber plant?” Scotty replied, impressed.

Roy sighed, seeing that his new, young bartender wasn’t getting the message he’d intended. “Just trust me on this one. Jed’s not a nice guy. You wouldn’t believe some of the stories I’ve heard about how he gets his kicks.”

Scotty couldn’t help but feel even more intrigued. As nice as Roy was, taking a fatherly interest in him when he took this job at the gay bar two weeks ago, he’d never encouraged Scotty to date anyone who came in. Being only nineteen and recently out to his hostile parents, Scotty had never come across the bad-boy type; Jed had piqued his interest like no-one else ever had. The guy had the air of a brute who would happily take the lead in the bedroom and make any lover submit to him. Just the thought of being mercilessly dominated by him was making Scotty glad that his crotch was hidden behind the bar most of the time.

“Who’s the fresh meat?” Jed asked as he came up a few minutes later, spotting that Scotty was a new employee; his voice deep and powerful, much like his staggeringly built body.

Roy had stepped in front of Scotty the moment he saw Jed approach. “Off limits!” he stated assertively. “What drink do you want?”

Jed smirked, eyeing Scotty with more interest now that Roy was standing in his way. “He’s cute,” he nodded appraisingly. “Tight ass, pretty face. Was that on the job advert?” he asked cheekily.

“Off limits!” Roy repeated, now with a hint of aggression. He pulled the lid off a bottle of beer and pushed it towards the arrogant jock. “No charge,” he growled, just wanting Jed to get back to the dancefloor and away from the bar. The bribe seemed to be a language that Jed understood best, tipping his head at the free beer and smirking at Scotty as he retreated back, somewhat satisfied with his result.

Scotty couldn’t help continuing to check Jed out whenever he looked up. He saw the guy sitting in a chair to the side of the dancefloor, his legs spread wide open, displaying his long and muscular thighs and ensuring that every single person who gazed upon him imagined themselves sucking him off; Scotty most of all. He could feel an arousal inside of him that was unlike any sort of attraction he had ever felt before. Boys were making a fuss of him, with one guy sitting on his lap for a short while; his ass crudely felt up by Jed’s enormous hands as he whispered something clearly kinky into the hunk’s ear.

A sudden rush came at the bar and the next time Scotty looked up, Jed had gone; onto the next bar. Scotty sighed in disappointment and inwardly cursed Roy for getting between him and possibly the best fuck of his life. He decided then that if he ever was lucky enough to come acrossJed again, he wouldn’t be so easily quietened. If Jed really was such a bad boy, he was going to have fun learning that for himself.

As the clubs were in full swing, it was time for the smaller bars to start to close up for the evening. Roy was in a particularly good mood, letting Scotty leave as soon as the cash registers had been balanced. He skipped out the front, taking in the warm summer air and tried to recall the breathtaking images of Jed that he still had in his head. The man had been so fucking sexy! He could still feel his boner even though it had been two whole hours since Jed had come in. 

Scotty walked slowly by another bar, noticing that they still had quite a crowd inside. He peered in, just in case Jed was amongst them. Then, his heart skipped a beat. There the beautiful guy was, surrounded by other handsome boys, like his own personal fan club!

Wasting no time, Scotty went in and leaned against the bar to be served, deciding that a short detour before home would be worth it if he could catch Jed’s attention once more.

Keen-eyed Jed spotted him straight away, sliding over straight after he had been served. “Well, well, well… what have we here?” he sang. Scotty’s heart started beating with incredible speed. He couldn’t tell whether he was about to be flirted with or bullied. Either way, he was already getting horny. “I wonder why you came in here!” he chuckled, seeming to already know Scotty's motives.

“I often pop in here after a shift,” Scotty lied.

“Sure you do!” Jed laughed, getting closer and closer. “How’s the lovely Roy these days?” he asked.

“He’s fine,” Scotty replied, finding he was too nervous and excited to even hold eye contact for more than a second or two. “Why does he dislike you so much, though?” he questioned him; his curiosity getting the better of him.

At this, Jed smirked. “I may have fucked a few people in the bathrooms at your bar,” he beamed proudly.

“We often get guys misbehaving in the cubicles,” Scotty shrugged, a little disappointed if that was to be the extent of Jed’s sexy ‘bad boy’ reputation.

“Oh, I don’t squeeze into those uncomfortable cubicles!” Jed laughed. “I get off on having an audience when I’m fucking someone. I don’t know what little Roy was complaining about. I certainly packed out his bar for him.”

Scotty tried to imagine the sight, feeling his breath catching in his chest with excitement. His eyes drifted onto Jed’s full, plump lips, losing control of himself.

“Roy sure knows how to pick the kinky twinks,” Jed teased, searching into Scotty's eyes and seeming to instinctively know all of the dirty thoughts that were running though his mind. “So, you grew up in Tennessee, huh?” he asked next, as if trying to refocus the conversation back onto something that might calm the horny Scotty down.

“I grew up around here,” Scotty answered, bewildered by Jed. “I moved from Tennessee when I was about five. But how did you know that?” 

“A couple of your vowels when you speak,” Jed replied. “It’s very subtle, but it’s there if you know what you’re looking for.”

“You’re very observant,” Scotty mumbled back, wondering just how much more Jed had inferred about him. No one had ever commented on his indistinct accent before. It was clear to him that Jed was as sharp as they came.

“Are you taking him back with us?” asked a muscular guy to Jed, strutting over with a feminine looking conquest under his arm.

“Of course I’m taking him home,” Jed replied, looking Scotty up and down. “Don’t be too flattered,” he chuckled to the slender bartender he had spoken to for the first time only a minute earlier. “I fuck all of Roy’s boys. It really pisses him off.”

Scotty didn’t care about the motives or consequences at that moment. His erection was wanting him to follow Jed, no matter where he led him. He abandoned his full drink and followed the boys on that short journey down the street towards an apartment building. Once in the elevator, Jed pulled him in to kiss him passionately, as if this was all a well rehearsed and highly effective warm-up for the main event. His massive, sexy body pressed into him, hands roaming exactly where they needed to. Then he stood back and smiled wickedly, knowing that he had Scotty hornier than he had ever been in his life.

Once on the top floor, the two other guys entered the apartment, with voices and dance music escaping as soon as the door opened. Jed held Scotty back in the entrance space, ready to explain the rules and expectations.”I’m leaving fifty bucks here,” he demonstrated, pulling out the ruffled notes from his wallet and placing them on the small table by the door. “If you want to leave at any time, just take it and get yourself a cab. The guy downstairs will help you out.”

Scotty nodded despite having no intention of going anywhere. But Jed’s intention was clear: he was free to leave whenever he liked.

“If you want to suck my dick tonight, you gotta leave your clothes here,” Jed ordered next, pointing to a pile of empty, discarded shirts, pants, underwear, socks and shoes. “The subs don’t wear anything in here,” he explained matter-of-factly. Then he stood, waiting for Scotty to comply.

Scotty didn’t waste a second. He wanted to be part of one of Jed’s exhibitionist fantasies like nothing else. He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his work shirt, released his belt and dropped his pants, alongside his underwear; taking pride in showing off just how hard his erection had become. Twenty seconds of stroking and the whole thing might blow.

The main living area was large and spacious, with double height windows and several areas for people to congregate. Guys were everywhere, some naked and some not, lounging about the place. From their reactions when Jed entered, it was obvious that this was his place. The star of the show had just returned, holding a naked, skinny twink’s hand, ready to fuck in front of them all. They stopped what they were doing, conversations ending and they moved to see what entertainment Jed had in store.

“He’s very slim!” chuckled one of the guys to the side. “Not your usual type at all!”

Jed laughed and nodded, stroking Scotty’s slender butt with hardly an ounce of fat on it. He;d always been the same: moderately tall and lanky with a runner’s build. “He’s one of Roy’s new bartenders. You know what Roy’s like for his twinks. I had to collect the set.”

Scotty felt even more blessed to be there. He wasn’t even Jed’s usual type, yet there he was, about to have the pinnacle of his sexual experiences merely because the bad boy had a vendetta against his boss. He was sent down onto his knees. Jed unbuckled his pants, feeding his oversized erection into Scotty’s mouth. No wonder the guy was so into public sex. He had no reason at all to ever feel conscious about his size. Scotty had never taken something so big; his mouth needing a little while to work out what to do with it all.

Jed continued chatting to those around him, recounting the story of how he had been sent away by Roy earlier. They all laughed at the bit where Scotty had turned up at the bar later and been so easily enticed back; moaning with appreciation at watching him trying to suck Jed off.

“Alright, alright,” Jed chuckled a few minutes later, pulling Scotty’s mouth off his hardness. “That’s not really your specialty!” He looked around at the others. “Skinny boys always give shit blowjobs.”

Scotty noticed people rushing to push some of the large sofa sections together. The whole thing came apart in modules, leaving a large, square, bed-like stage in the middle of a surprisingly crowded space.

“Face down. Ass up,” Jed ordered him, guiding him to the area. He’d slipped a condom on and lubricated himself up, all the while Scotty presenting his butt to the eager crowds. But once Jed was inside him, working up a sweat, nothing else mattered. Scotty felt the eyes upon them, heightening his sexual thrill. He came the moment Jed reached around and grabbed his hardness, only seconds before he ejaculated himself. Some in the crowd had started touching themselves, others subs going down on their men.

Jed, drenched in sweat and smiling proudly simply turned to Scotty and whispered. “Be sure to tell Roy that I did that!”

The whole living space was empty when Scotty woke up the next morning to a loud sound. He’d always been a deep sleeper, having crashed on the couch at some point and not woken, even as the sun had started to pour in through the enormous windows. Had he missed the memo? Had Jed expected everyone gone before he was up the next morning?

“You’re still here?” asked a naked Jed, striding into the kitchen moments later, opening the refrigerator and drinking his milk straight from the carton.

Scotty apologised, fumbling as he got up and tried to remember where he had left all of his clothes. Jed leaned against the wall, watching with amusement as a slightly panicked Scotty tried his best to dress himself from the scattered remains of his clothes across the hallway.

“Thanks for last night,” Scotty tried once he was half dressed. “It was the best experience I’ve ever had.”

Jed only smirked and downed more of his milk.

“Is there any chance you might want to do it again some time?” Scotty asked next, knowing that he would regret it if he didn’t.

“I fucked you to piss Roy off,” Jed answered honestly. In fairness, his agenda had always been blatantly transparent. “You’re not my type. All that skin and bone. I’m into chubs.”

Scotty nodded, not in the least bit surprised that Jed wasn’t interested in seeing him again. Although the fact that a guy like Jed could be into chubs was not something he had expected until last night. 

“Maybe if you gained thirty pounds or so, we could discuss it. I’m sure Roy would love that!” Jed joked, supping from his milk once again.

“Roy’s a nice guy,” Scotty replied, feeling that he needed to defend the kind boss who had looked after him so much since he’d moved to the city and been practically disowned by his parents. “He didn’t hire me because of how I look.”

Jed laughed. “Roy’s not a nice guy,” he sniggered. “And he absolutely hired you because of how you look. That’s why all his employees look almost identical. If he’s not made a move on you, it’s because he’s not got you where he wants you yet. Trust me, he does it with every single one of his bartenders eventually.”

Again, Scotty shook his head. “You just don’t know him like I do,” he sighed, finally pushing his feet into his shoes and turning to leave.

“Wanna bet?” Jed asked, as if Scotty had thrown down a challenge. “Saint Roy wouldn’t be half as nice to you if you did put on a little weight.”

“He’s not interested in me like that,” Scotty repeated.

“Fine then. Prove it!” Jed demanded. “You wanna be Roy’s boy, or mine?” he asked flirtatiously, stepping closer.

“Yours,” Scotty replied meekly back, his heart beating faster again.

“Gain thirty pounds for me and I’ll fuck you in front of everyone again, just like last night,” Jed offered, his hands sliding onto Scotty’s butt as he pulled him in. “No muscle, no weight training. Just give me some nice doughy padding on that ass of yours for when I fuck you next.”

Even the thought of a second fucking like yesterday’s was giving Scotty a hardness he couldn’t control. “I’d do anything…” he whispered back lustfully.

Jed smiled and kissed him, motioning him back towards the door. When the kiss ended, Scotty was already on the threshold. Jed had spun him around by his shoulders and with a little push on his butt, Scotty was outside in the corridor. “I guess we’ll soon see, won’t we,” Jed grinned back, swinging the door shut behind him. Gone.

After several rounds of touching himself, thinking about the previous night, Scotty set to work researching his task without a second thought. He needed to gain a good few pounds if he had a hope of getting with Jed again. The internet had lots of good ideas, although weblinks kept sending him back to sites that promoted ways to lose weight, rather than gain it. He studied the advice for weight loss, realising that he could reverse much of it if he wanted to see the number on the scales rising. So what if he might look a little chubby for a while? Experiences like the one last night could not be matched, so why fight against doing what had to be done? He’d been far too skinny most of his life anyway.

Word had reached Roy that Jed had slept with Scotty by the time he started his next shift that Wednesday evening. The relentless gossip was one of the most frustrating parts of this community, Scotty realised. Roy was obviously cross, reminding Scotty again and again how he had tried to keep him out of harm’s way, as well as the reasons why. Scotty found himself apologising simply to appease the guy, not daring to explain any of the details of how thrilling and magical the evening had been. Roy wouldn’t want to hear that he didn’t regret a thing.

For two weeks, Roy was colder with him, before things finally started to lighten up. However, that was before a new challenge hit them.

“Those pants look a bit tight,” the older man commented seeing Scotty unloading some beers into the refrigerators. 

Scotty idiotically tried to turn his head over his shoulder, as if he too could see his butt. He’d done everything he had learned in order to gain weight, but had only managed about five pounds so far. Surely that wasn’t enough for his boss to notice?

“You know, if you’re going to work here, the customers expect you to look tidy,” Roy reminded him.

“The pants feel fine,” Scotty shrugged. “I just gained a couple of pounds. That’s all.”

Roy raised his eyebrows disapprovingly. “Well, sort it out,” he grumbled warningly.

Scotty soon realised that pants which felt fine one day could soon become quite restrictive the next. He couldn’t deny that his butt had swollen up as he finally reached a ten pound gain on the scales. His flat stomach had taken a bit of a beating, looking constantly bloated; remaining like it was after a large meal. When he poked and prodded it, everything underneath the skin felt altogether softer. His tight, figure-hugging t-shirts had to be put away for the time being, and Scotty bought himself some stretchier pants for work, pairing them with a black shirt that made his less streamlined appearance stand out less. By fifteen pounds, Scotty was starting to feel it under his chin. Each time he shaved, he could see the little padding getting puffier and puffier. Softness was spreading into his hips and sides, swelling slight love handles out that further complicated the fit of both his pants and shirts by the time over twenty pounds hit. He looked, for all the world to see, like a young guy ready to go on a diet. Twenty-five pounds sounded like a tiny amount of weight, yet it had altered his appearance so much, especially when his shirt came off.

As for Jed, Scotty hadn’t laid eyes on him in the entire three months he had been following every single nutritional advice he could in order to pack on the pounds. There were faces he recognised of the people who had been at the party that night, but none of them were ever with Jed, nor willing to hand out his cell phone number whenever Scotty cheekily asked for it. Some said he was on vacation, others that he was working away. In either case, Scotty was soon going to reach his weight goal and the guy he was doing this for wasn’t even going to be around to see it.

It began to dawn on Scotty just how much extra weight thirty pounds was. With it, he had actually grown a small belly that rounded out his middle, whilst he was also starting to carry extra blubber around his nipples for the first time. His cheeks had become puffier in his face and even with his styling choices, he wasn’t able to conceal the fact that he had gained quite a considerable amount of weight. But with the absence of Jed around town, Scotty suddenly had an unexpectedly awkward job on his hands. At 185lbs, he’d hit his weight target and now needed to somehow maintain it without dropping down again. That would mean he would need to maintain certain aspects of his new eating regime, without going overboard. Something that had never been part of the plan. What Scotty had expected was a short-term weight gain, followed by a cut that would see his weight return to normal.

Perhaps it was all about the timing. Scotty had hit the goal weight just as the holidays were getting underway. He should have known that maintaining his weight would have been no issue. But as Scotty tried to button his pants that January, he realised that he had actually done even more damage than before. He stepped on the scales and sighed in disappointment at himself. It couldn’t be? The scales had to be off! He couldn’t really be 197lbs, surely? Had he really fucked up his metabolism that much on this weight quest? He needed to go on a diet as soon as possible.

“What the fuck did you do?” cried out a deep and powerful voice as Scotty busily collected the empty glasses and bottles from the tables in the bar. He’d been rushed off his feet, with Roy choosing to leave him with a fairly incompetent new hire. But as he turned around to see who was shouting, the air got caught in Scotty’s lungs and his eyes visibly bulged. It was Jed, looking even more built and physically imposing than the last time Scotty had seen him.

In an instant, Scotty realised how stupid he had been. Jed was joking about the weight gain, right? He’d made a couple of throwaway comments about gaining thirty pounds and here Scotty was with almost an additional fifty. He rubbed his stomach, suddenly wishing he could make it all disappear.

“You’re an actual fatty!” Jed laughed, reaching out to Scotty’s hips as the boy held his tray of empties. Then Jed spun him around so that he could see the wide, bloated mess his butt had become.

“I’ve been doing it for you…” Scotty shot back, now feeling a desperate need to explain himself. “...Like you asked.”

Jed turned him back and reached his hand under Scotty’s chin, pulling forwards so that all of the new double chin fat bulged underneath. “This is way more than thirty pounds, though,” Jed observed shrewdly. 

“I went a little overboard,” Scotty replied meekly, seeing that people were starting to stare. “I got carried away.”

Jed was just staring at him, spinning him some more; a wicked twinkle in his eyes. He reached down and readjusted himself. Was he actually getting a hard-on, right there in the middle of the bar?

“Where can I take you to fuck you?” Jed demanded, looking around the space as if exploring all possible options.

“I can’t. I’m working,” Scotty replied regretfully, hardly believing the apparent urgency that Jed needed him after all.

“Fuck!” Jed moaned, sounding like he might actually burst. He looked at his large designer watch knowing exactly what time the bar would be shutting. “Come to my place after you finish,” he ordered, strapping his big hand over Scotty’s butt and squeezing. “You remember where to go, right? I’ll make sure there are plenty to watch…”

Scotty nodded. After months of work, everything was suddenly happening so fast. Not only was this happening, it was happening tonight! At long last, Jed was about to have his way with him.

Jed wasn’t the one to answer the door when Scotty finally made it up to the apartment two hours later. A short, hairy and slightly older guy answered. Completely naked, it was obvious that he was the submissive of someone inside. Had he been there last time? Scotty could hardly remember. However, with the way his body was being scrutinised, Scotty felt sure that he must have been: eyes of judgement upon him for packing on so much extra weight.

Jed, your new chub’s here!” the guy cried out.

Suddenly, a strapping, shirtless, athletic guy was racing to the door. He picked Scotty up from the threshold, throwing him over his shoulder excitedly and calling out to the room in his deep voice. “My new fatty’s arrived!”

Scotty was very aware that all everyone could see of him as he went in was his wider, chubbier rear, held at head level for the rest of the guests; some of whom patted it in amusement. It was the ass that he hoped Jed was about to give a proper pounding, all going well.

Jed put him down and immediately swept Scotty up into a surprisingly romantic, passionate kiss. He took a step back, leaving Scotty as the focal point of all the eyes in the room. “Take note everyone,” Jed called out. “This is what a real sub looks like,” he beamed. “I challenged him to gain thirty pounds for me and the little pig went and gained fifty instead! All of it pure blubber!”

Jed stared intensely whilst the others in the room looked at each other, perhaps some of them starting to recognise Scotty now from when he was here a few months ago. Jed lowered his zipper and pulled out his own hardness, stroking it excitedly: big and heavy, too large for even his giant hand. He nodded at Scotty, his meaning clear in that moment: start undressing.

Scotty gazed with lust at Jed’s hardness as he began unbuttoning his shirt. He heard gasps of surprise as he pulled it off, knowing just how much the material had concealed his flabbier shape. He knew how bad the back fat looked: the stretch-marked love handles resting on his belt, the fleshy swelling of his nipples. But still Jed grinned, stroking himself; silently demanding more. He noticed that the music had been turned down low as he removed his belt and kicked off his shoes. He undid his pants, dropping his underwear at the same time, uncovering his comparatively underwhelming hardness.

“Fuck, look at it!” a horny Jed proclaimed. “He absolutely destroyed his twink body for me!”

Scotty smiled, realising that that was exactly what he had done, surrendering his whole body in the hope of Jed dominating him one more time. More than ever, he wanted Jed to take him, turning slightly so that he could show the muscular boy his glutes, swollen and enlarged. He put his weight on one foot, making one glute bulge and then the other. He reached his hands behind, bouncing the fleshiness, then spreading them apart. 

That was the last thing that Jed could take, ripping off his clothes and launching himself upon Scotty; starting to make love to him. Unlike last time, there was a horny urgency to the whole thing. It felt like barely a minute had gone by before Jed was moaning in his ear as he came inside him; simultaneously stroking Scotty up and down his shaft and making him squirt absolutely everywhere.

“Fuck!” Jed moaned collapsing on top of Scotty, still fully inserted inside of him. He seemed completely spent and satisfied; much like Scotty himself. The pair lay there for a minute or two, laughing blissfully whilst everyone else drifted off; the music returning to the usual volume. “I’m going to need to do that again later,” Jed explained, finally rolling off Scotty.

“Fine by me,” Scotty beamed, only now realising that his socks were still on. After all those months of gaing, he knew he was going to make sure that he stayed there for as long as Jed would have him.

Jed had been insatiable, fucking him twice before bed that night and another, more rapid and sweaty affair the next morning. “How’s the lovely Roy these days?” Jed asked, spooning Scotty lovingly from behind afterwards. 

“He’s fine,” Scotty replied. “A bit grumpy. I’m lucky I don’t see him so much these days. I usually work with the other staff.”

“What a surprise!” Jed chuckled. “So Roy’s not as nice to you now that you’re a chub?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a chub,” Scotty replied. “I don’t look that much different. I don’t think it’s the reason why Roy’s been a bit off with me.”

Jed laughed, kissing his neck. “You’re so sweet and naive,” he whispered, holding Scotty like his own little plaything. “But you’re absolutely a chub now,” he teased. His flaccid penis was starting to get hard again, pressing gently between Scotty’s butt cheeks. “Everyone can see what a little porker you’ve turned into.”

Sensing Jed’s arousal was making Scotty feel more than a little horny himself. He didn’t know why Jed’s teasing and name-calling did it for him so much, but accepting what was said to him felt like the most beautiful submission. It was easy to lean into it. “So, Roy doesn’t like me anymore because I got so fat for you?” he asked. “Because I turned into a chub?”

Jed’s hardness was continuing to build. He started gyrating his hips and nuzzling into Scotty’s neck even more. “Say that again…” Jed moaned into his ear.

“I’m a chub,” Scotty repeated, feeling Jed’s hand stroking his semi encouragingly as soon as the words left his mouth. He moaned. There was so much more he wanted to do to turn Jed on; to submit himself to him.

“How does it feel being a fatty now?” Jed went on, enjoying his mastery over him.

Scotty moaned. How did it feel? He had the hottest guy in the world trying to make him squirt for the second time that morning, all because he’d gained so much weight for him. “Fucking amazing!” he blasted.

“Then gain more for me,” Jed ordered, seeming to have greater control over himself now than he had the previous times they had started to make love.

“You want me to get even fatter?” Scotty asked, finding it hard to even think straight with all  the stimulation. He rolled slightly, needing to look Jed in the eyes to see if he was serious. “How much fatter?” he asked, finally meeting Jed’s calculating stare.

“As fat and as blubbery as I want,” Jed answered, expertly keeping Scotty hard without climaxing, “I want you to be what I’ve been looking for my entire life. I want you to be my ultimate sub.”

“I want to be your sub,” Scotty nodded.

“Then you know what you need to do, right?” Jed asked him seriously; without a hint of humor or joviality in his face.

Getting back into the old routine wasn’t difficult. Jed had been overtaken by wild lust when Scotty had explained all the routines he had previously set up for himself in order to ensure he was consistently overdosed with calories and reduced his active periods. It made Scotty feel excited and validated that he had done so well in following Jed’s wishes. All he had expected was one last fuck from the hunk, yet here he was, with several messages from the guy on his cell phone and a hook-up planned for later that week. Gaining weight, doing as Jed asked, it had all opened up doors for him that Scotty didn’t know existed. He ripped open the lid of the whipping cream and began pouring. Chug, chug, chug. Just as Jed would want.

A few more weeks went by and the noticeable changes in Scotty’s body were the subject of many stares at Jed’s usual weekend party at his apartment. Perhaps it was all the cream Scotty had been drinking, or the consistent manner with which he had pushed himself to gorge, but the plush extra weight had settled itself squarely on his new gut and further softened up his chest. He looked genuinely bloated, as if his face and chins had yet to catch up to the tank that was being manufactured below. Jed also said that he could see it building in his butt and thighs, patting the glutes like a proud owner.

“You should hear some of the things Jed says about you when you’re not here,” whispered Jed’s other submissive, Sebastian, trying to get a moment alone with Scotty at the party. “He’s absolutely lost it.”

“How do you mean?” Scotty asked, helping himself to a beer. He didn’t feel in any way alarmed by the dramatic concern Sebastian seemed to be showing. He knew that none of Jed’s other subs liked him. They were jealous of how much of his time Scotty took up and the fact that Jed appeared only to have eyes for him whenever he was around.

“Scotty…” called Jed from across the room as he was chatting to someone else; never really letting him out of his sight. “Remember to snack on those breadsticks, baby.”

Sebastian waited until Jed’s eyes were away from them before he started speaking again. “I’m not sure you realise how into this Jed actually is,” he resumed whispering. “He’s obsessed about your weight. He talks constantly about your calories and how to ensure you don’t move around too much or exercise. It’s all he ever wants to discuss with the other guys.”

Scotty gnawed on a breadstick, enjoying the thought of Jed getting so aroused by him, even when he wasn’t around. 

“He showed me some kinky underwear he wants to make you actually grow into. I’m not joking. They were enormous!” he emphasised. “I think… I think he actually wants to make you… morbidly obese,” Sebastian finally stated.

Scotty looked at him, wondering what game the guy was trying to play. Was he trying to scare Scotty off so that things could return to normal around here? Sebastian had always been one of Jed’s favorite subs due to his surprisingly heavy, oversized rear. Was getting rid of Scotty his way of ensuring Jed paid him more attention instead?

“And?” Scotty asked defiantly.

Sebastian seemed taken aback. “And?” he repeated back to him. “Dude, look at yourself!” he demanded. “He’s had you eating the entire time you’ve been here. You’re seventy pounds fatter than you were when you met him!”

“Is everything alright, honey?” Jed asked, striding over and placing his large arm directly over his favorite lover’s shoulders. He stared at Sebastian, seming to sense what had been said.

“Your sub doesn’t really approve of what you’re doing to me,” Scotty answered him obediently, happy to throw Sebastian under the bus.

Jed straightened up a little, seeming more imposing by the second. “Is that so?” he asked Sebastian with a slight menace to his voice. The whole room quietened.

“He was telling me about some underwear you’ve bought for me to grow into,” Scotty further added, enjoying seeing Sebastian squirm.

“You tried to ruin the surprise for my fat boy?” Jed laughed, despite being clearly irritated.

“I was just…” Sebastian tried to defend himself. “I wasn’t sure that he knew everything!”

Jed tutted and shook his head in disappointment. “Oh, Seb!” he sighed. “You know that you’ll have to be punished, don’t you?” he asked the submissive boy.

Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “I do?” he asked hopefully.

Scotty felt a little tap on his butt and heard a whisper in his ear for him to go and sit on the big chair by the TV. Jed strutted to his refrigerator and opened the door, pulling out an enormous expensive-looking cream-covered chocolate cake on a large tray. “My pig needs feeding,” he explained disinterestedly, passing Sebastian the tray even though the young, relatively chubby submissive seemed genuinely surprised by the weight of it. “Make sure he eats it all,” he grinned. 

For a moment it seemed like Sebastian was ready to rebel. Jed’s face lit up at the silent challenge.

“Tell my pig I want him big, fat and greedy,” he demanded. “Otherwise… there’s fifty bucks by the front door. Take it and leave,” he smiled.

Sebastian huffed, walking with the tray over to Scotty and getting down on his knees. Then, in one single movement, he scooped his hand into the cake, filling his palm with it, before thrusting it towards an eager Scotty’s face. “Eat up!” he ordered, thoroughly defeated as Scotty began gorging from his hand.

The other dominant men in the room came over to pat Jed on the back. He’d handled the situation well; both his boys were now doing exactly as he wanted. Indeed, Jed looked on with pride, picking at Sebastian’s technique the entire time and laughing with the others in the room. “Don’t forget the frosting!” he called out, watching his two subs pleasing him like this. Needless to say, it was Scotty that had the honour of making it into his bedroom that night, leaving Sebastian to head home, unfulfilled.

Scotty couldn’t quite get over the quiet hostility towards him in work as he showed up for his shifts whenever Roy was around. Despite always dressing well for his increasing size with shirts and pants that fit properly, Roy would scowl at him as he began to take up more and more space behind the bar. “Move your ass!” the guy would shout across to him whenever he got in the way now, hiding him in the back to organise the stock as often as he could.

Jed would often come in during a shift, smiling extra brightly if Roy was ever there. No more free drinks were given, no protective swooping in from Roy to ensure Scotty stayed out of harm's way. “Do you like the improvements I’ve made?” Jed would goad him, pointing at Scotty’s chubby glutes as he trotted about serving the others.

“No, I don’t,” Roy simply replied, not wanting to even give Jed the satisfaction of looking him in the eye.

It all gave Jed such a thrill. “Well, that’s too fucking bad!” he’d laugh, sipping his beer and turning back to check out the guys in Roy’s club. He knew Roy would never bar him from coming in here. Given the way he looked, just having him there drew people in. It made perfect business sense.

At the end of the shift, Jed would be there, waiting to walk his property back home to his place. He’d be sure to kiss and handle him whenever Roy was about, always explaining that a take-out delivery was already on its way for when they got back.

“Is it bad that I would love to fuck you in front of your boss?” Jed laughed later, admiring his chub as he hungrily gorged for him after the shift.

Scotty laughed and nodded his head. “I’d say that would definitely get me fired!”

“So?” Jed asked seriously. “I was looking at the data from your smartwatch on my cell phone earlier. You got far too many steps in walking backwards and forwards behind that bar tonight. Why do you think I had to order you the extra garlic bread?”

Scotty swallowed, appreciating how erotic it was that Jed took such a keen interest in every aspect of his life; wanting to dominate all of it. “You want me to quit?” he asked.

“Definitely,” Jed nodded. “I need you to sit on that fat ass of yours more if I’m going to grow it out like I want.”

“But what would I do for work? I couldn’t afford my rent,” Scotty fretted.

Jed looked around his large penthouse apartment. “You’d move in here with me instead. I need you to give me twenty four hour access to all that blubber. I think it’s time, don’t you?”

It was already a done deal. After some simple seduction, playing with Scotty’s newly sensitive nipples, Jed had him messaging Roy, quitting his job right there and then. Then he messaged the boys he shared a place with, letting them know he was giving up his room. When the morning came, Jed had one of his minions head over to Scotty’s place and clear out his room; most of the clothes heading straight off to charity.

Scotty was expecting to be set up in Jed’s spare room and was surprised to learn that he was actually going to be staying in Jed’s own bedroom with him. The kinky hunk had bought himself the largest bed he could find and wasted no time in taking Scotty’s ever expanding and always softening butt anyway he could.

The effects of not working had been speedy. Under Jed’s orders, the amount of calories Scotty was consuming through liquids had dramatically increased. Each night Jed would study the chub’s body, captivated by the new stretch marks. Three hundred pounds had been a kinky goal for so long, yet it came and went rather rapidly under the new regime. There were new rolls and fleshy areas forming all over his frame. His body had become a playhouse to the handsome man he had been ensnared by, and he simply couldn’t imagine anything being more thrilling. Jed was insatiable. Walking around in only a tight pair of briefs pretty much guaranteed that Jed was going to fuck him wherever he was in the apartment. Several times, Scotty had walked by as Jed was on his cell phone making a business call. He’d been stopped in his tracks, purposefully bent over the desk and gently pounded without Jed ever losing his train of thought whilst speaking with the client.

The other subs, like Sebastian, had started to pile on a few pounds, making Jed laugh at their desperation for attention. Although many of the other dominant guys who hung out at Jed’s parties were no longer attracted by Scotty’s flabby form, the fat boy was still shown off in all his glory regardless; poked, prodded and teased for letting Jed transform him like this.

Derek was the only other dominant guy who seemed to really get off on the unusual form of domination Jed was mastering over his prey. Jed sought his advice often, being a few years older and the only one with any sort of experience in handling growing chubs.

“Every time I look at that butt I think it can’t get much bigger,” Derek marvelled, witnessing Scotty trotting over to join them on the couch. “And yet, there it is… fatter every week!” he laughed alongside Jed.

Jed grinned proudly, sliding his muscular arm over Scotty. “It’s almost the biggest ass I’ve ever fucked now,” he nodded, happy to take full credit.

“And just remember that scrawny little shit we watched you fuck all that time ago!” Derek chuckled.

“Just under eighteen months ago,” Jed nodded, mindlessly bouncing Scotty’s sagging chest as his huge arm draped over the boy’s shoulders. “He’s still shit at giving blow jobs, though,” he laughed, remembering how uninspired he had been that first night.

“Train him,” Derek shot back, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most simple thing in the world. “It’s a lot easier with chubs.” He looked across at Scotty and all the fat he was now carrying in his face; a giant ring of fat under his chin. “They’re greedy little fuckers. Every last one of them. It’s simple.”

As suggested, Jed unbuckled his pants and spread his legs, fishing out his oversized erection for Scotty who was getting down onto the floor as if to start sucking him off.

“The thing with fatties,” Derek began, “is that they have saliva glands which are a lot easier to activate than most people.”

“Mmm! Wet, sloppy blow jobs!” Jed chuckled, looking at Scotty’s greedy little mouth. He reached out his hand, pinching the sides of Scotty’s mouth until his lips opened and his cheeks bulged.

“I hear your pig has quite the sweet tooth?” Derek asked, collecting a cupcake from the side and passing it to Jed who held it in his hand. “Just waft this under his nose to start with.”

Jed smirked and followed the advice. Instinctively, Scotty went to take a bite and was stopped by a very loud ‘no’ from both Jed and Derek; scolded like a naughty puppy. “Just smell it, Piggy!” Jed ordered.

Jed and Derek watched him with fascinated curiosity. Then, all of a sudden, they both simultaneously burst into laughter, almost making Scotty jump. It took Scotty a few moments to work out why they were chuckling. Had he swallowed his building saliva without even realising?

“It works every time with a fatty!” Derek laughed. He reached out and scooped a little of the frosting from the cupcake and smeared it over the tip of Scotty’s nose. “You need the pig to keep smelling it if you want it to keep producing the saliva.”

Jed was smiling excitedly, delighted by the tutoring. He reached out his large hand and lowered Scotty’s mouth onto his hardness, sighing with pleasure as the wet tongue began its work. Next,  Derek handed him a warm pizza slice from the box that had just arrived. Jed lowered it, holding it close to Scotty’s face as he sucked. Derek adjusted Jed’s hand a little, ensuring that the scent would be easily picked up by Scotty’s nose.

“Fuck!” Jed cried, jumping a little as a fresh wave of saliva lubricated his erection, allowing Scotty to slide his mouth effortlessly over as much of it as he could fit into his mouth. “This is fucking awesome!”

Derek smiled, resting his hand on Jed’s large shoulder. “You put in the hard work developing your pig’s appetite,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Now you can just sit back and enjoy it!”

Word was spreading that Jed was close to climaxing and the horny guests gathered around to watch, just as Jed liked. He moaned as loudly as Scotty had ever heard him, pulling out at the last minute so that everyone could see the giant jets as he came.

Thoroughly satisfied, slouching and exhausted, Jed lay there with a wicked smile plastered across his face. Scotty grinned, pleased to have been the reason for it. Not being able to please Jed with his mouth had been a constant source of shame for him. He reached out, picking the drooping pizza slice out from Jed’s hand and began nibbling. Jed watched on with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

The crowds attending Jed’s parties began to evolve. Pretty soon, Derek wasn’t the only admirer of the hunk’s hard work with Scotty. Other chub lovers, and the guys who were getting fatter for them, started replacing those more casually kinky men who used to be invited. Scotty found himself sucking down a greater variety of calorie shakes as the new acquaintances in this group gave Jed a variety of recipes to prepare for him. At over three hundred and fifty pounds, Scotty didn’t feel he had much to prove to these guys, nor the starter chubs they brought along with them. The focus became more about the food, which suited Scotty fine. His appetite and capacity was something everyone always complimented Jed for, elevating the hunk’s status to new heights.

Jed held Scotty from behind, one hand holding up his chubby neck in a way that pushed forward his double chin; his thumb gently caressing his cheek. Jed’s other hand gripped mercilessly onto his belly fat, jiggling and shaking it for all to see. “At least three shakes a day and these are the sorts of gains you can expect,” he told them all. “Have high expectations at all times. That’s how you grow out your pigs.”

Despite being a submissive, amongst the other fatties, Scotty felt he had a much greater status. He’d done it all, after all. They’d all seen the video someone had taken the first time Jed had fucked his skinny little butt, and they had all witnessed for themselves the monstrous appetite he could display for Jed’s pleasure. When he hit four hundred pounds, the submissives had all been ordered to feed him whilst the others watched on, shouting out orders.

Although Jed still went out to pick guys up when he pleased, never missing out on one of Roy’s ever skinny employees, it was always Scotty he came home to. When they went out to the gay venues together, the big jock never shied away from showing his affection and always sought a seat for his increasingly rotund lover in whichever bar they went to.

“Roy keeps on staring,” Jed chuckled, whispering into his fat boy’s ear. “When he goes out next, you’re going to have to move faster than I usually let you.”

Scotty nodded, excited to give Jed this fantasy. When instructed, he heaved his fat body up quickly and trotted behind his lover. Once inside the bathroom, Jed had undressed completely in the time it had taken Scotty to open his pants and pull them down enough to show his blubbery ass cheeks.

This was it: the final piece of the jigsaw, letting Jed take him here, in the place he had once worked. Kinky boys had already gathered around them, keen to watch Jed and his giant hardness at work. No doubt Roy would notice and follow in soon to throw them all out. But what did it matter? He hadn’t been Roy’s boy for a long time. 

He was Jed’s.

[goldfades]

WHO DID THIS TO YOU?──RAFE CAMERON

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

for this request, for my lovely jo! @wanderlusturous

─ summary | you and rafe are consumed by an obsessive love, where their madness is fueled by each other. you find exhilaration in pushing boundaries, testing each other’s limits, and the deeper you fall into your shared insanity, the tighter your bond becomes. when rafe finds you crying in your bedroom one day, he loses his shit and is thrown into a silent rage, seeking revenge. and you don't mind, not one bit.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x fem!reader

─ warnings | oh my god, where do i even begin?? obsessive rafe, like insane but reader reciprocates it. a few kisses but mostly just insane stuff. mention of drugging (not to reader), hacking (?), idk what else but this is lowkey insane...

─ ev's notes | im gonna be honest, i don't know if i like this... but lmk if yall enjoyed it. it's a little too dark-themed for me and i got into it until i reread it and realized that it was lowkey insane but hey!!! whatever!!! anyway, pls lmk if this was too dark.. or if you enjoyed it. also, sorry to any becca's out there, it was just the first name that popped up. any feedback is always very appreciated!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

The night is suffocating, thick with tension that mirrors the pulse racing in your veins. Every sound, every breath, seems amplified, as if the world knows what’s coming. You stand by the dock, your eyes on the dark water ahead, but your thoughts are elsewhere—on him.

Rafe.

You can already feel him, even when he’s not here. The way your skin hums when you think of him, the way your pulse skips in sync with his name. No one gets you like Rafe does. No one makes you feel like the world is spinning off its axis just by looking at you. He’s chaos, destruction wrapped in a pretty face, and you... you crave it.

The roar of an engine breaks through the night. You don’t turn, but a slow smile curls on your lips. You feel the heat of his presence before you even hear his footsteps.

“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Rafe’s voice is a low drawl, but there’s something manic beneath it, something that sparks against the madness in you.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his eyes. There’s that look again. That wild, possessive look that sets your blood on fire. He’s close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him, feel the tension in the air tighten like a noose around your neck.

“Neither could you,” you reply, your voice low, daring.

He grins, a sharp, dangerous thing. “You’re right. I can’t.”

His fingers brush your arm, just a ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to ignite something violent between you. This—this is what you live for. The thrill. The madness. The way Rafe looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him sane, and maybe that’s what scares you the most.

Because you’re not sane.

Not anymore.

You can’t even remember why you broke up with him a few months ago, but all you know is that it got overwhelming. There was something suffocating about it—about him. The way he always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were thinking before you even said it. At first, it was intoxicating, the way he could read you like no one else ever could, like you were the only two people on earth and no one else mattered. But then… it was too much. His intensity felt like drowning in quicksand, slow but relentless. And for a moment, just a moment, you thought maybe you needed air.

But standing here now, with the salt stinging your nostrils and the wind howling like some kind of omen, you can’t remember why you ever thought you could leave him.

Because there he is—Rafe Cameron, walking toward you like the world is his and you’re his prize, eyes locked on you in a way that makes your chest tighten, your stomach coil in knots. He’s dangerous in all the ways that matter. Not just because he’s reckless and violent (though God knows he is), but because of how he makes you feel. Alive, in a way that hurts. Like the rush you get standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing one wrong step and it’s all over, but you can’t stop yourself from leaning forward, just to feel the thrill of almost falling.

He doesn’t stop walking until he’s so close you can smell the gasoline and smoke on his clothes, the wild energy pouring off him in waves. He looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters, like you’re the oxygen he’s been deprived of for too long, and suddenly it all makes sense again. The madness. The break-up. The inevitable pull back to him.

“Why’d you leave me?” His voice is low, rough like gravel. His eyes burn with something fierce, and you can feel it sinking into you, clawing its way under your skin. He’s not asking because he doesn’t know. He’s asking because he wants to hear you say it.

You stare at him, heart pounding, pulse thrumming in your ears like a warning. But instead of stepping back, you step forward, closing the small gap between you two. Your breath mingles with his, the night air thick with unsaid things, and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something irreversible. Like if you take one more step, there’s no going back.

But isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? The danger. The thrill. The sick, twisted excitement of being so intertwined with him that you forget where he ends and you begin.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, even though that’s not the full truth. You do know. You left because you were scared. Scared of how much you wanted him, needed him, even when it hurt. Scared of the fact that the line between love and obsession blurred so fast with him that you couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

His jaw tightens, and his hands, those rough, calloused hands that have touched you in ways no one else ever has, reach out. He grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and for a moment, you swear you can see the wild, unhinged thing lurking just behind his eyes. It’s the same thing you see in yourself when you look in the mirror. The madness that ties you to him, binds you like a curse.

“You do know,” he says, voice dark and demanding. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, slow, like he’s testing how far he can push you before you break. “You just won’t say it.”

A shiver runs down your spine, but it’s not fear. It’s something else, something deeper. Something that feels like surrender and power all at once. You lean into his touch, letting his hand curl around the side of your face, the heat of him soaking into your skin like a drug.

“I couldn’t handle it,” you admit, the words thick and heavy in your throat. “You. Us. It was too much.”

Rafe’s lips curl into a smirk, but it’s not a kind one. It’s dark, possessive. “Too much? You know you liked it. You loved it.” His hand tightens slightly on your jaw, just enough for you to feel the edge of his control, like he’s reminding you who he is. What he is. “You loved me because of how fucked up we are. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

You swallow hard, heart thundering in your chest, because deep down, you know he’s right. You’ve never felt more alive than when you were with him, caught up in the madness of it all. The fights, the passion, the way you both pushed each other to the edge and then pulled each other back, only to do it all over again. It was twisted, dangerous, and wrong in every way, but that’s what made it irresistible.

“I did,” you confess, and it’s like a weight lifts off your chest, even as you feel yourself falling back into him, back into the chaos. “I do.”

The smirk fades, replaced by something darker, hungrier. His eyes search yours, looking for any sign of hesitation, any crack in your resolve. But there’s nothing. You’re not the same person who left him. Maybe you never really left at all.

Rafe’s hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips hover just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, and before you can respond, his mouth crashes into yours, hard and demanding.

It’s not gentle. It’s never been gentle with Rafe. His kiss is all teeth and tongue, like he’s trying to devour you, claim you all over again. And you let him, because deep down, you crave it just as much as he does. The fire, the chaos, the way he makes you feel like you’re spinning out of control but somehow exactly where you’re supposed to be.

When he pulls back, you’re both breathing hard, your lips swollen, your pulse racing like you’ve just run a marathon. His hands grip your waist now, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the heat of his body searing into yours.

“Tell me,” he says, voice low and dangerous, his eyes boring into yours. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, but you don’t hesitate. “I’m yours.” And you are, completely, utterly, unashamedly his.

And just like that, you’re back where you started.

───MONTHS LATER . . .

“God fucking damn it, if you don't tell me right now, I'm gonna lose my shit!” Rafe shouts, his voice cracking like thunder in the small living room as he throws the beer bottle against the wall.

Glass shatters everywhere, scattering across the floor, but you don’t even flinch. You’ve seen this before. Hell, you’ve lived it. The rage, the temper, the chaos—it's like a script you’ve both memorized by heart.

You lean back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching him like you would a caged animal—wild and unpredictable. He’s pacing now, his movements sharp and erratic, the muscles in his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if they might snap. His eyes are wild, blue like ice but burning with something untamable, something dangerous. He’s teetering on the edge, that fine line between fury and desperation, and you know it won’t take much to push him over.

But you don’t care. Not right now.

“Rafe, calm the fuck down,” you say, your voice steady, almost bored. You know that’ll get to him. It always does. Nothing makes him crazier than when you don’t give him the reaction he’s fishing for.

His head snaps in your direction, eyes narrowing as he stalks toward you like a predator honing in on prey. He stops just inches away, towering over you, his chest heaving, breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. He’s so close now that you can smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the heat radiating off his skin. But you don’t move. You stand your ground, looking up at him with a calm that borders on defiance.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” he spits, voice laced with venom. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, knuckles white. “I’m sick of your bullshit! You think you can just stand there like you’re better than me, like you’re not a part of this, but guess what, baby? You are. You always have been.”

You tilt your head slightly, eyes narrowing as a slow smile creeps across your lips. “You’re being dramatic, Rafe,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “What, you gonna break something else? Or are you actually gonna say what’s bothering you for once?”

That does it.

He slams his hands down on the counter behind you, trapping you between his arms, his face just inches from yours. His eyes blaze with fury, but beneath it, you see something else—something raw, something that makes your stomach twist in knots.

“Don’t play games with me,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “I know what you’re doing. You think you can just push me around, mess with my head, and I’ll keep coming back like a fucking dog, huh?”

You meet his gaze, unblinking, heart racing in your chest but refusing to show it. You can feel the tension crackling between you like electricity, the air thick with it, suffocating. This is what it always comes down to with Rafe—this toxic push and pull, this need to break each other just to see what’s left after the pieces fall apart.

“You think I’m the one messing with your head?” you say, your voice low, challenging. “Maybe you should take a look in the mirror, Rafe. You’re not exactly innocent in this, are you?”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he’s going to explode. But instead, he just stares at you, eyes flickering with something dark, something primal. Then, slowly, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

“Innocent?” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. “Baby, I’ve never claimed to be innocent. You knew exactly who I was when you got into this.”

You don’t flinch. You don’t pull back. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your lips grazing the corner of his jaw as you whisper back, “Yeah, and that’s why I’m not scared of you.”

His breath hitches, just for a second, and you feel a surge of satisfaction. You’ve always known how to push his buttons, how to throw him off balance, even when he’s at his most dangerous. It’s a game you’ve played a thousand times before, and you both know how it ends—chaotic, messy, with both of you circling back to the same place.

But this time feels different.

There’s something darker in the way he’s looking at you, something that feels more like possession than anger. Like he’s not just mad because you’re fighting—he’s mad because he can’t stand the thought of you slipping away. Because he knows, deep down, that no matter how hard you push him, he’ll always want you. Need you.

“You don’t get to walk away from me,” Rafe says, his voice low, deadly. “Not this time.”

You feel his grip tighten on the counter behind you, his body pressing against yours as if he’s trying to fuse the two of you together, like if he holds on tight enough, you won’t be able to escape. But he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand that you’re already too far gone. That the very thing he’s holding on to is slipping through his fingers, and there’s nothing either of you can do about it.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” you say softly, a cold smile on your lips. “I can walk away whenever I want. I just choose not to.”

And with that, you duck under his arm, slipping out from between him and the counter. His eyes follow you, wide with disbelief, rage bubbling just beneath the surface. You know he’s about to lose it, to completely unravel. But you don’t turn back. Not yet.

Because this time, you want him to come after you.

And he always does.

Rafe’s eyes darken as you slip past him, and for a moment, the room goes deadly silent. The tension is thick, heavy like a storm cloud waiting to burst. You know exactly what’s coming, and it sends a thrill down your spine. You can almost feel it—the moment he snaps, the second his control shatters. It’s a twisted game, one you’ve played too many times before, and every time, you push him a little harder, a little further, just to see how far he’ll go for you.

You take slow, deliberate steps toward the door, your back turned to him, feeling the heat of his gaze sear into you. You don’t need to look back to know he’s watching, every muscle in his body tensed like a predator stalking its prey. The air feels electric, charged with a violence that’s always been just beneath the surface between you two.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp and biting. You stop, but you don’t turn around. Not yet.

“Does it matter?” you ask, voice calm, almost teasing. “I thought I could walk away whenever I wanted, remember?”

The silence that follows is deafening. You know you’ve hit a nerve. He hates when you challenge him, hates when you act like you have the upper hand. But that’s what makes it so addictive—pushing him to his limit, watching him unravel in front of you, knowing that no matter how hard he fights it, he’ll always come back to you.

Because he can’t help it. Neither of you can.

Suddenly, you hear his footsteps behind you, fast and heavy, and before you can react, his hand grips your arm, yanking you back toward him with a force that nearly knocks the breath out of you. He spins you around, his face inches from yours, eyes blazing with fury.

“You’re not fucking going anywhere,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. His grip tightens on your arm, fingers digging into your skin, but the pain only makes your pulse quicken, your breath hitch in your throat. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s on the verge of losing control, like he’s barely holding himself together—that sends a thrill through you.

“Let go of me, Rafe,” you say, your voice daring him, even though you know you don’t really want him to.

He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you closer, his other hand gripping the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. His chest is heaving, his eyes wild, but there’s something else there, too—something desperate, like he’s terrified of losing you, like he’s clinging to you with everything he has left.

“You think you can just walk away?” he snarls, his breath hot against your face. “After everything? After all the shit we’ve been through? You really think I’m just gonna let you go?”

You meet his gaze, unblinking, your heart racing, but there’s no fear. Not with him. There never is. Instead, you feel the pull again—the twisted, sick need to see how far you can push him, how deep his obsession goes.

“I think you don’t have a choice,” you say, your voice steady, even though your pulse is hammering in your ears.

His grip tightens, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles twitching beneath his skin. For a second, you think he’s going to snap—really snap—but then, just as quickly, something shifts in his expression. The anger doesn’t fade, but it’s joined by something darker, something raw and consuming.

“You’re wrong,” he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with danger. “You don’t get to decide when this ends. I do.”

Before you can react, his lips crash against yours, rough and demanding, as if he’s trying to prove a point. It’s not a kiss; it’s a claim, a reminder that you belong to him, whether you want to admit it or not. His hands tighten on you, pulling you impossibly closer, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely restrained violence simmering just beneath the surface.

But instead of pulling away, you kiss him back with just as much fire, matching his intensity. It’s always been like this between you two—this chaotic, messy whirlwind of emotion that neither of you can control. You push, he pulls, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you find something that feels like love, even though you both know it’s something darker, something more dangerous.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, your lips swollen and bruised. His hand stays on the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that’s both possessive and tender, like he’s reminding himself that you’re still here, still his.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice rough, eyes blazing as he stares down at you. “You’ve always been mine.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. There’s a part of you that wants to fight it, to push him away and run as far as you can. But there’s a bigger part of you, a darker part, that knows he’s right.

You’re his. You always have been.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m yours.”

The words hang in the air between you, thick and heavy, and for a moment, everything else falls away. The anger, the tension, the broken glass on the floor—it’s all background noise now. All that matters is the two of you, standing here in this twisted, fucked-up mess of a relationship, knowing that no matter how many times you try to break free, you’ll always end up right back here.

With him.

Rafe’s grip on you softens, just slightly, and for the first time in what feels like hours, the intensity in his eyes eases. But it’s still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the next time one of you decides to test the limits again. Because there will be a next time. There always is.

“You’re not leaving me again,” he says, his voice softer now, but no less serious. “Not ever.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Because deep down, you know that no matter how much you might want to, no matter how many times you tell yourself you can walk away, you won’t.

You never could.

And Rafe knows it, too.

───

You don’t usually cry. Not ever. Tears are something you’ve learned to bury deep down, hidden under layers of indifference and biting sarcasm. But tonight, they come, hot and angry, streaming down your face as you sit curled up on the edge of the bed, hands trembling in your lap. The weight of the evening presses down on you, your mind reeling from everything that happened.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not tonight.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand, but you ignore it. You can’t deal with it right now. You don’t want to see the messages or hear the apologies. You don’t want to relive what just went down.

You wipe at your face roughly, trying to pull yourself together, but it’s no use. The shaky breath you let out only betrays you further, and you feel the tears well up again. You bite your lip to keep from making a sound, not wanting him to hear you.

But, of course, Rafe hears everything.

The door swings open, and Rafe steps inside, his broad frame filling the doorway. He looks at you, really looks at you, and in an instant, his expression darkens. His blue eyes narrow as they sweep over you, taking in the tear-streaked face, the hunched shoulders, the way your body is wound tight like a coiled spring, ready to snap. His jaw tightens, and you can practically feel the shift in the air around him.

“What happened?” His voice is low, dangerous, barely restrained. It’s not a question—it’s a demand.

You shake your head, trying to brush it off. “It’s nothing, Rafe. Just forget it.”

But you know better than to think he’ll let it go. The second you met him, you realized Rafe Cameron isn’t the kind of guy who “forgets” anything.

He moves closer, the tension in his body palpable. He’s not pacing like he usually does when he’s angry. This is different. Controlled. Focused. Like he’s honing in on the source of your pain, ready to eliminate it. He crouches down in front of you, one hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. His touch is firm, possessive, but not rough—not yet.

“Tell me what happened,” he says again, his eyes boring into yours. “Who did this to you?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up. You know how Rafe gets—how he reacts when someone hurts you. And this time, it wasn’t just anyone. It was someone close. Someone you thought was your friend.

“It’s—” You start, but your voice cracks, and you quickly bite down, trying to steady yourself. “It was…Becca.”

“Becca?” The name drops like a lead weight between you two, and you can see the recognition flare in his eyes. Becca, your friend for years, the one person outside of him you’ve always trusted. The one person he’s always been wary of.

Rafe’s grip tightens slightly, his thumb brushing over your jaw in a way that makes your pulse race. His voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper. “What did she do?”

You hesitate, but the words spill out before you can stop them. “She—she said some things. At the party tonight. She called me out in front of everyone, said I was using you, that I only stuck around for the money, the attention. She tried to turn everyone against me, Rafe. She made me look… weak.”

His face hardens instantly, and for a split second, you see something flash in his eyes—something dark and lethal. The kind of rage that makes your breath catch in your throat, even though you know it’s not directed at you.

“She said what?” His voice is so low now, it’s almost a growl.

You nod, swallowing hard, feeling the burn of humiliation all over again. “I don’t know why she did it. I thought she was my friend.”

Rafe lets out a slow breath, and the air around him feels like it’s vibrating with the intensity of his anger. He stands up abruptly, pacing the room, running a hand through his hair as if trying to keep himself from completely losing it. But you know it’s too late for that.

“I’ll fucking kill her,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear every word. “I’ll ruin her life.”

“Rafe—” You start to protest, but he cuts you off with a sharp look.

“No. No one talks to you like that. Not her, not anyone.” His voice is clipped, sharp, like he’s barely holding back the full force of what he’s feeling. “You don’t deserve this shit. Not from her, not from anyone.”

His protectiveness borders on obsession, but you can’t help but feel a strange comfort in it. It’s twisted, but there’s something about the way Rafe reacts to these things—like the whole world can burn as long as you’re safe—that makes you feel… seen. Important.

“I’m going to fix this,” he says, more to himself than to you, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “She thinks she can talk shit about you? In front of everyone? Humiliate you? Nah. She’s going to regret it. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Rafe,” you say softly, trying to reach for him, but he’s too far gone. You can see it in the way his eyes have glazed over, already plotting, already deciding exactly how he’s going to destroy Becca.

And part of you wants to stop him. Part of you knows that this isn’t the answer, that maybe you should handle it differently, like a normal person would.

But you’re not normal. Not anymore.

“I’m serious,” he says, turning to face you again, his expression deadly serious. “No one fucks with you. Ever.”

His intensity washes over you, and for a second, you feel like you can’t breathe. But at the same time, it fills you with a sense of power, knowing that he’s willing to go to these lengths for you. That he’ll protect you at all costs, no matter how destructive it gets.

You stand up slowly, crossing the room until you’re in front of him, your hand resting on his chest. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Rafe’s eyes flicker down to you, and for a brief moment, you see a softness there, a flicker of the boy beneath all the rage and chaos. “I won’t. But I’m not letting this go.”

You nod, knowing there’s no point in arguing with him. This is who he is—who you both are. Twisted, obsessive, reckless. But it works. Somehow, it works. And deep down, you don’t really want him to let it go.

A few months later, and somehow everything goes to shit for Becca.

It starts small—things that could almost pass as bad luck. First, her new car gets keyed, deep scratches across the side that no amount of buffing can fix. Then her social media accounts get hacked, posts disappearing, weird comments being left on other people’s pages, like someone is deliberately screwing with her life piece by piece. She brushes it off at first, because Becca’s tough. She’s the type of girl who bounces back quickly, who doesn’t let things get under her skin.

But then things escalate. Quickly.

She gets benched during a big volleyball game when her coach suddenly pulls her aside and questions her attitude. The team captain claims Becca’s been talking shit about the coach behind her back, stirring up drama with teammates. The problem is, Becca never said any of it. But now, she’s got a reputation, and people are starting to look at her differently.

Still, she fights through it, determined not to let it get to her. Becca’s always had her eye on the prize: her full ride to UC Berkeley, where she’s set to play volleyball at the college level. That’s her future. Her escape. Nothing can touch that.

Until it does.

The call comes one morning, out of nowhere. Becca’s shaking as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line, her heart plummeting as her coach tells her the news.

“We’ve received the results of your recent drug test, Becca,” the coach says, his voice stern but somehow apologetic. “I’m sorry, but you’ve tested positive for a banned substance.”

Becca’s head spins, her mouth going dry. “That’s impossible,” she blurts out, panic rising in her chest. “I don’t do drugs. I don’t—”

“I know this is hard to hear,” the coach cuts her off, his voice firm. “But the results are what they are. This disqualifies you from the scholarship and the team. UC Berkeley has revoked your offer.”

The words hit her like a sledgehammer. She feels the ground tilt beneath her, everything she’s worked for slipping through her fingers in an instant. She argues, pleads, tries to explain, but the decision is final. There’s nothing she can do.

And that’s when she starts to see it, to feel the weight of something much bigger pressing down on her. This isn’t just bad luck. It’s not a coincidence that her life is unraveling at the seams. No, this feels orchestrated, like someone’s been pulling the strings behind the scenes, watching her fall apart.

That someone is Rafe Cameron.

Rafe can be physical—he wouldn’t hesitate to swing on anyone he deems a threat. But Rafe isn’t a dumbass. He knows that not everything should be dealt with by violence. Some things are better handled with precision, with patience, with slow, deliberate destruction. He knew that punching Becca in the face wouldn’t satisfy him, wouldn’t give him the kind of control he wanted over the situation.

So instead, he used his connections, his money, his influence, all of the tools at his disposal to dismantle her life bit by bit. A hacked account here, a few whispers to the right people there. He didn’t need to lay a finger on her to destroy her. He just needed to plant the seeds of doubt, to set off a chain reaction, and then watch it all come crumbling down.

The drug test? Easy. A little slip of something into her drink at a party when she wasn’t paying attention, followed by a tip-off to the testing agency. The rumors about her trash-talking her coach? Carefully spread by a few well-placed texts to her teammates, pretending to be her. Her social media? That was just for fun, a way to throw her off balance and make her feel like her world was spiraling.

And it worked.

You know all of this, of course. Rafe never bothers to hide things from you. In fact, he’s proud of it, proud of the way he’s dismantled Becca’s life without so much as breaking a sweat. He tells you about it one night while you’re lying together, his arm draped lazily over your waist as he whispers in your ear.

“She thought she could fuck with you,” he murmurs, his voice dark, satisfied. “But now she knows. No one touches what’s mine.”

You should feel guilty. You should feel something for Becca, after all those years of friendship, of thinking she had your back. But all you can feel is a sick sense of satisfaction, like the universe has finally corrected itself. Becca messed with the wrong person, and now she’s paying the price. And as twisted as it is, you can’t help but feel a little thrill at how far Rafe was willing to go for you, how meticulously he destroyed her without you even asking him to.

“You really did all that?” you ask, your voice low, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Rafe shifts beside you, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your neck. “I told you, baby. No one fucks with you and gets away with it.”

You turn your head to meet his gaze, and there’s something dangerous in the way he looks at you, something possessive and wild. It should scare you, but it doesn’t. Not anymore.

Because the truth is, you like it. You like how far he’s willing to go for you, how far he’s willing to take it. There’s something intoxicating about the way he loves you—twisted, obsessive, and all-consuming. It’s not healthy, not normal, but it’s yours. And that’s enough.

You press your lips to his, kissing him fiercely, feeling the heat between you two ignite once again. Rafe kisses you back just as hard, his hands gripping you tightly, like he’s reminding you that you’re his and no one else’s.

As you pull back, your breath ragged, you glance at him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“She won’t come near me again.”

“No,” Rafe says, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. “She won’t.”

And in that moment, you both know it’s true. Becca’s done.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[incognit0slut]

The Last Laugh

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Spencer is forced to share a room with his rival. This is part two of Lose Control but can be read as a standalone.

warnings: sexual tension, a lot of banter, female oral, edging, rough sex, unplanned creampie (is that a thing?) words: 5,3k a/n: someone requested a part two with a one-bedroom trope and since this is one of my favorite stories, I had to do it

...Thinkin' you're winnin' with all of your grinning but I got the last laugh...

"I'M NOT SLEEPING WITH REID."

The idea was absurd. Ridiculous. Insane. Out of all the people in her team, why was she paired up with him?

According to Garcia, the only choice she had to spend the night in this remote town was with the person she least wanted to engage with. Did Garcia not know how much she had been trying to avoid him? How much she had been attempting to act as if the mere proximity with him wasn't making her lose her mind?

"Why not?" Garcia asked, handing her a key. "He's not that bad of a roommate, well, if you overlook his tendency to share random facts in the middle of the night, then he's really not that bad."

"Do you not hear yourself?" She steadied her gaze to her friend. "You want me to share a room with the person I hate the most?"

Garcia rolled her eyes. "You guys really should stop with this nonsense. You're both grown adults."

"I'll treat him like an adult if he starts to act like one." Her eyes drifted toward the man of the hour, standing at the other end of this old-looking hotel that seemed too close to falling apart, engaged in conversation with Luke. She then glanced back at Garcia. "Why can't he share a room with Luke?"

"Because I'm sharing a room with Luke."

She shot Garcia an incredulous look. "You're rooming with Luke? Since when?"

"Since always. We're buddies, remember?" She cocked an eyebrow and Garcia sighed. "Don't look at me like that, we're just friends. Besides, you and Reid are the only ones left without a roommate. Consider this your opportunity for personal growth or whatever."

"Personal growth? More like a crash course in patience. And what's the deal with Reid anyway? Why does he always have to be the exception?"

Garcia leaned in, her tone conspiratorial. "Well, let's just say Luke and I enjoy our peace. Reid, on the other hand, is like a walking encyclopedia. I figured it's your turn to experience that charm up close."

She scowled, a mix of annoyance and resignation on her face. "Charm? That's a generous way to put it."

Garcia stared back with an air of nonchalance that only seemed to amplify her exasperation. "Look, it's only one night. What's the worst that could happen?"

She shot her friend a withering glance as if the absurdity of the situation needed no further clarification. "The worst is that I might end up committing another crime in this town before the night ends."

Garcia raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "You're exaggerating, Reid is harmless. Plus, all the other rooms are fully booked. Consider yourself lucky we even found a place to stay."

"Lucky is not the word I would use right now."

"Just try to survive the night without killing each other," Garcia chuckled, ignoring the glare shot towards her way. "Give him a chance."

Her incredulous stare intensified. "A chance? Garcia, the man tried to argue with me about the most efficient way to organize my desk. And you know what's ironic? His own desk is a complete mess."

Garcia sighed, her playful demeanor softening. "One night, Y/n, that's all I'm asking."

She pursed her lips together. She could go on about how bad it would be to share a room with him, but the thing was, it would raise questions she did not want to answer. There was a limit to how much her disdain could stop her from entertaining the idea, and her avoidance, she realized, was more than just mere hatred.

Annoyed that she couldn't do anything to escape the situation, she shot a disapproving glance at him, who was still engrossed in conversation with Luke. With a resigned shake of her head, she turned back to Garcia.

"Whatever." She sighed, begrudgingly accepting the key Garcia handed her. "But if he starts reciting facts about, I don't know, the history of dental floss or something, I'm blaming you."

Garcia laughed. "Fair enough." She shoved her shoulder playfully. "But who knows, maybe you'll discover he's not as bad as you think."

That was the problem. Spencer Reid, in her eyes, was starting to... change. And she hated that. Why was the man she had never bothered to befriend occupying her mind more than she wanted him to? Was it because she now knew what it felt like to have his body pressed against hers? What it felt like to have him grunt in pleasure right in her ear? Just because they had sex?

Nope. Nuh-huh. She wasn't going to think of him differently tonight—or ever, for that matter.

She gave Garcia one last glare before making her way across the creaky floorboards toward him. Noticing her presence coming close, Spencer looked up and a slight tension filled the air as his gaze locked with hers. She quickly shook her head.

"You're sleeping on the floor," she declared with a point of her finger when she reached him.

A small amused smile played on his lips. "We're sharing a room?"

"Unfortunately," she grumbled. She then focused her attention on Luke. "Do you want to switch roommates?"

Luke chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm stuck with Garcia. Besides," he patted Spencer on the shoulder, "Don't act like you're not eager to spend the night with him."

Her eyes went wide. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Luke simply shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and walked away, leavingher staring at Spencer with a mix of confusion and suspicion. "What did you tell him?"

Spencer frowned. "Nothing." He sighed when her stare didn't back down. "Nothing, I swear. Luke tends to have his own way of interpreting things."

She narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced, but decided to let it go for the moment. She turned on her heels, not waiting for him as she walked to their destinated room. She felt his presence close behind her but kept her mouth closed.

Spencer, on the other hand, found the situation amusing. He really shouldn't find any entertainment in her visible annoyance towards him, but he did. He couldn't help but notice that despite being angry, she still looked unbelievably attractive. The scowl on her face, her pursed lips, her chest heaving in anger. He took a step closer.

"This must be hard for you," he commented.

"What is?" she shot back, maintaining her brisk pace.

"Staying the night with me when you've been avoiding me."

Her jaw tightened. "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Really? So you haven't gone out of your way to avoid looking in my direction ever since what happened?"

Her steps faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure, refusing to show any vulnerability. "That doesn't mean I've been actively avoiding you. It just means I have better things to do than engage in pointless conversations."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Pointless conversations, or conversations you're trying to avoid?"

She shot him a sharp look but didn't respond. "You know," he began again. "You do seem to be acting differently ever since that day."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Spencer couldn't resist a faint smile at her denial. "You really don't know what I'm referring to?"

She huffed, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. The narrow hallway seemed to amplify the unresolved tension between them as they stopped right in front of their room. She could feel his gaze on her, and it only fueled her annoyance.

She tried to ignore him by unlocking the door, but as she pushed it open, she felt his presence looming behind her. His proximity was so close that she held her breath as he gripped the edge of the door in front of her. His breath brushed her neck and her eyes involuntarily fluttered close when his other hand slowly rested on her waist.

"Should I help you jog your memory back?"

Her eyes shot open. She shoved him aside and stepped into the room. "No funny business, Reid. Keep your dick in your pants tonight."

His laughter lingered in the air as he followed her inside, closing the door behind him. "The question is," he taunted. "Can you keep it in my pants?"

She scoffed. Who was he and what did he do to the Spencer she once knew? The guy she remembered lacked any humor and always kept his distance from her. It was hard to believe a simple encounter—could you call sex as simple?—had turned him so crude, or maybe, she considered, this was his true self all along.

She decided to ignore his words as her eyes scanned the cramped room, containing only an old dresser, a nightstand, and a queen-sized bed, which she pointed at assertively. "That bed is mine."

His brow furrowed. "Why do I have to sleep on the floor?"

"You want me to sleep on the floor?" Her hand gracefully moved to her chest in a dramatic gasp. "Where is your chivalry, Dr. Reid?"

"We could share the bed."

She simply stared back at him, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and incredulity. Spencer, unable to resist stirring the pot, shot back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, it won't be so bad. Did you know that the concept of sharing a bed has been a cultural practice for centuries? It symbolizes unity and—"

"Reid," she interrupted, shooting him a pointed look. "If you're trying to annoy me, you're doing an excellent job."

He grinned, clearly enjoying her irritation. "I'm just stating a fact. Sharing a room, sharing a bed—it's all deeply rooted in human history."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I highly doubt our situation is deeply rooted in anything other than poor hotel arrangements."

Spencer chuckled, undeterred, his laughter resonating in the dimly lit room as he took a step closer to her. The worn-out floor creaked beneath his feet, echoing the subtle tension that lingered in the confined space of the room. "You never know. We might be making history right now."

She shot him a skeptical look, her gaze unwavering. "I doubt historians will be interested in this disaster."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you always this skeptical, or is it just reserved for me?"

"It's just reserved for annoying people," she retorted, not missing a beat. She took a deliberate step closer to him, the air thick with a blend of tension and... something else. Her heart quickened as his gaze swiftly swept over her lips before dragging back to her eyes.

"Really?" He closed the distance between them, and she held her ground, tilting her head back to meet his gaze due to his towering height. A subtle trace of his scent hung in the air, his presence enveloping her. She felt a sudden shift in the air, her senses heightened, and her eyes traced the contours of his face—the sharp angles of his jaw, the warmth reflected in his hazel eyes. She also could sense the initial surge of longing coursing through her body.

Shit.

"Believe it or not," he added, his voice a low murmur that resonated in the confined space. "I find your company quite fascinating."

"Fascinating?" She responded, but it came out more breathless than she had intended. She took a deep breath, trying to act as if his close proximity wasn't affecting her. Her pulse, however, betrayed her composure. And it was evident in her voice. "T- That's a stretch."

"Really?" His lips curved into a subtle smile, catching the shift in her demeanor. "I think there's a small part of you that's enjoying this."

"Enjoy what? Your random facts and annoying habits?"

Spencer leaned forward. A tension crackled between them, and it swam in his eyes and played on his lips. It pulled at her chest, making her heartbeat flutter in her throat, and to her surprise, he extended his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch left a searing sensation on her skin.

"Admit it, you're starting to see a different side of me."

She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge his point. "One night doesn't change anything."

"You're right." His hand made its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. "It can change everything."

Before she could register what he was doing, he closed the distance between them, holding her still as his lips crashed on hers. A thousand things flooded her mind all at once—each of them revolving around him. The way she melted into him felt oddly natural. The way his hands began to roam her body, the way her mouth opened for his tongue, the way her kisses became hungrier, also felt natural.

Which was bad. Really, really bad. This wasn't supposed to happen. One time, she could call it a mistake. But allowing him to have his way with her for the second time... there was no one to blame but herself. She should push him away and set the boundaries she was supposed to set the moment he invaded her personal space. But it was hard to think rationally when he tasted so good.

It was hard to stand her ground when his teeth softly nibbled her bottom lip. It was hard to think straight when she was already pulling hard at the locks at the base of his neck as his tongue explored her mouth, blindly walking her back until her back was pressing onto the wall.

"Look at you," he laughed against her lips. "You're not pushing me away."

"Shut up," she hissed, trying her best to keep her tone icy. But then again, it was hard to stay angry when he was touching her like this. His greedy hand traveled up her thighs, massaging the plush flesh. His fingers finally found the hem of her pants, and he swallowed her moan when they dipped underneath the material, slipping right underneath her panties.

Her breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between her folds, spreading her slick before finding its rightful place on her clit. Spencer didn't hesitate when he started rubbing at her nub, smooth and deliberate, it made her toes curl and her body jumped in a moment of surprised bliss.

Her sound of pleasure was music to his ears, urging him to satisfy her even more. He was quick when those same fingers dipped inside her core, her inner walls tensing at the sudden yet pleasurable stretch. There was a distinct sound along her needy whines, wet and slapping as his palm makes contact with her clit every time he was knuckle-deep inside her. Her head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed—a sight Spencer secretly wanted to commit into his memory.

Without even noticing it, her hips started grinding to chase his fingers, desperate to reach that familiar pleasure twisting in her core. Her movement didn't go unnoticed by him, an amused, deep chuckle reverberating from his chest while he pulled his fingers out of her, rubbing her clit aggressively, knowing it would make her reach her high faster.

"You're going to cum, aren't you? This quick?" She glared at him through half-lidded eyes, not giving him an answer. His smile widened at her resistance. "Do you think I should let you?"

Her heart quickened its pace, knowing well enough what he was about to do. He was going to tease her, or as she liked to think, he was going to torture her by not giving her what she wanted. Her theory was proved right when he leaned down, his face inches away from hers, a sly smile on his lips.

"Beg me."

She quickly shook her head. A hand snaked up her back until it found the base of her skull. His fingers brushed through her strands before gripping hard, sending a jolt of pain down her spine as he yanked her head back.

"Beg me."

"Fuck you—ah!" A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through her, pushing a moan from her that filled the room like a ringing bell—a bell that signaled the fact that despite how much she knew she shouldn't, she was already surrendering to his touch.

"No?" He taunted, his breath brushing against her ear. "Then I'm not letting you cum."

And just like that, the pleasure rippling through her body was ripped away.

He swiftly pulled his hand from under her pants with a smirk she wanted to wipe off before turning his back to her, leaving her all flustered. She took a moment to collect herself, her mind racing to grasp the situation. She loathed him. She really did. She despised the way he was so full of himself.

With a determined exhale, she shook off the flustered feeling that lingered. He may have momentarily unsettled her, but she was not one to let her guard down easily. She was not going to let him get under her skin. If he could make her sexually frustrated, then so could she.

If he was going to play dirty, she was going to get filthy.

Her shirt was the first thing that came off. Then she unbuttoned her pants, pulling them down over her legs. Dear god, she was going to regret this, wasn't she? But she couldn't stop. Not when the rustle of her clothes echoed in the quiet space and Spencer turned around, jaw slacked, a startled expression crossed his face as he watched her.

"W-What are you doing?"

There. That was what she wanted. That priceless, wide-eyed, disbelief face. She had to keep going.

"Taking matters into my own hands."

Her hand reached around to unclasp her bra before she intentionally took her time sliding the straps down her arms, enjoying the way his jaw clenched as you did. Eyes still focused on him, she tossed it to the side. Her hands lowered afterward, and an audible gasp escaped his lips as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her underwear, sliding them down her legs.

"You're always so smug," she murmured, taking a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Thinking you have control of me."

Right hand reaching up, her fingertips just lightly swept the length of his stubbled chin, just below his lips. The corner of his mouth only drew up further at her touch. She smiled at his reaction, and her fingers dropped down to grip his chin firmly.

"But I can satisfy myself just fine."

And then she pulled away, the smirk now missing from his lips as she backed out of his reach. She then settled on the bed, and with her eyes never leaving him, she spread her legs wide open. She watched as a breathless sigh escaped his lips and smiled triumphantly, especially when the bulge growing in his dark pants was impossible to ignore.

With her gaze lingering on his steadily growing erection, she trailed her hand down her stomach, the tips of her fingers paused just over her clit. "What's wrong, Reid?" She hummed out, watching his chest heave. "You seem to be speechless."

Because he was, how could he not be when the pad of her middle finger slowly started to lightly circle over her clit. He watched as she teased herself, fingers gliding between her folds, gathering her arousal before slipping a finger inside. She gasped, the wet sound was audible even to her own ears as she gradually pumped her finger in and out.

He took a step closer, and her fingers moved faster as his eyes raked over her body—her luscious breasts fully exposed, legs spread apart, fingers between her thighs. A faint moan fell out of her, her eyes partially closing all the while her fingers never ceased their movement, vigorously thrusting into her cunt.

She then proceeded to put on a show for him, throwing her head back and rolling her hips. He was standing close to her now, eyes focused on her body, his tongue sliding along his lower lip. Her cunt immediately clenched at the sight of him, a bulge straining at the fabric of his pants. The sight sent a surge of warmth through her body, spreading from between her thighs to her cheeks as her fingers quickened in pace and her legs spread farther for him to see.

He was trying to hold himself, it was obvious in the way he held his composure. But then she watched with satisfaction as he stalked towards her, and just because she wanted to fluster him, she couldn't help herself from letting out a needy whine as she slipped her fingers out before rubbing her clit desperately, her eyes boring into his.

"Spencer," she moaned.

That was precisely when he lost it. He didn't even hesitate. He marched straight to her, and her finger stopped in its movement as she watched him settle between her legs, sinking to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and roughly yanked her over the edge of the mattress, and she fell on her back with a squeal.

"You're a goddamn tease, you know that?" He sneered, his warm breath brushing over her heat. "Fine, I'll let you win this time."

A gasp escaped her lips when he wasted no time leaning in, burying his head between her thighs. He wasted no time as she grabbed onto the sheets, feeling his tongue draw circles around her clit before flicking up and down at a rapid pace. Her thighs tighten around his head. and her whole body trembled beneath him, encouraging him to move his tongue faster.

His fingers dug into her thighs, holding them apart as he took his time. Ever so slowly he licked up her slit, gathering her juices on his tongue until he reached her clit, groaning every second of the way until she was shivering beneath his touch. She was breathless, mind buzzing and the room spinning as he thrust his tongue into her warmth, face becoming so deep between her thighs that heat rushed through her body.

When her thighs trembled and threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag deeper inside her. With a roll of his tongue, he was lapping at her walls, swallowing every drop until the second he heard her begin to whine.

It was embarrassing, letting him hear how worked up she was. But she couldn't help it, not when she was losing control of her mind and body. Her hips were starting to buck to meet his tongue. Her jaw slacked. Low moans spilled from her lips as he continued to ravish her, and her fingers dug into the sheets beneath her to hold onto her sanity as waves of pure overwhelming pleasure took hold of her.

"Oh my god," she whimpered, voice two octaves higher before growing silent. She was so, so close to the edge, his tongue relentlessly sucking her clit, licking, swirling over her entrance until her mind fell blank from the bliss. The heat began swelling from between her thighs, tension tightening and all she did was screw her eyes shut.

But seconds before the pleasure was nearly too much to bear, he suddenly pulled away.

"Reid!" She hissed, looking down between her legs. "You're fucking annoying."

He looked up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes, then his mouth parted a second before his tongue swiped over his lip to taste the remnants of her arousal. "What?"

Unbelievable. After pulling that stunt, he had the audacity to feign innocence. She huffed and opened her mouth to retort something but when he started to undress himself, she couldn't think of anything. Her mind was too busy taking in his slightly toned arms, his broad chest, his slim waist, and that patch of soft hair trailing down his stomach, disappearing underneath his pants.

And that was gone too, and now he was standing without any shred of clothing, and it then dawned on her that they were both very much naked. Their first time in that dusty storage room happened too fast that they didn't bother taking off their clothes, but now she had the time to sink in the way he looked wearing nothing but a smirk.

"I didn't bring a condom," he said as he climbed onto the bed. Like that was going to stop them, it didn't stop them before and it most definitely won't stop them now.

"It's fine," she mumbled just as he settled between her legs again, but when his eyes lit up at her words, she smacked his shoulder. "But you're still not finishing inside me."

He merely hummed a reply. Then seconds later he was lining up the tip of his cock with her entrance. His eyes meet hers as he teased her, and she noticed the smirk appear once again on his lips. She pushed her hips toward him, gripping his arm irritatedly, and released a breathy 'hurry up' before she could change her mind.

He wasted no more time pushing himself into her without warning, earning a gasp while he stretched her completely. He pressed his body into her, allowing her lips to collide with his and moan into the kiss when she felt him pull away just enough to slam back into her with one harsh thrust. His hands suddenly reached for her wrists, and he gripped them above her head, pushing them onto the mattress.

His eyes darkened as he looked down at her, and she quickly shut her own as he pumped himself into her cunt over and over again. His motions were aggressive, sloppy, and wild. The moment a particularly deep and brutal thrust hit her at the right spot was the moment she finally gave in to weakness as she let out a loud moan, her mind going blank to everything but the pleasure he was giving her.

Then he pulled back again, and his thick cock slid out of her partway, glistening with her juices, splitting her pussy apart around it before snapping forward, his hips going at a brutal pace, making her whole body bounce from the contact.

"God, you feel incredible," he groaned out just as she gasped from the intense pressure of him inside her, head falling above her, jaw slacked, sweat dripping down his temple. Her eyes fluttered open before exhaling a heavy breath, feeling him tightening his grip on her wrists. "We need to do this more often."

Though she didn't say it, she agreed with him. And it pained her to even consider making this a habit. But it was tempting. It was so tempting that the thought of having him inside her anytime and anywhere had her clenching around his cock, earning a low grunt deep within his chest.

Then something snapped inside her. She had started off holding back, keeping herself in check against the rising wave of sensations. But then, in a moment that felt like a long-awaited release, she decided finally to let go when he continued to hit that perfect spot inside her, and she almost felt ashamed at the noises she was making. She wasn't as vocal when she was alone, nor with other men, yet the man she claimed to hate earned every whimper, every desperate moan.

Hearing her cries urged Spencer even more. He leaned over to her and pushed himself deeper, earning a gasp from her as her legs fell apart even further, letting him sink himself as deep as he could. He pushed her hands above her head and hovered above her, letting his temple fall against hers as his hips rutted violently.

The pressure rose and the tension coiled in the pit of her stomach. Sweats beaded over her skin just the same as him, crying out for him, moans mixing with filthy noises of him thrusting into her wet cunt. His powerful thrusts then quickened, causing her to grow weak her body began to quiver in his grasp.

She cried out, wanting to warn him she was growing close to the edge, her mind growing numb, everything around her fading into black. But didn't give her the chance to speak before he pressed his mouth on hers in a heated kiss, all sloppy and wet and desperate, latching on her lips with so much fervor.

She felt him everywhere. On her lips, biting on her soft flesh. On her breasts, his chest rubbing against her hard nipples. And between her legs, his cock stretching her deliciously, a pleasant feeling that had her whining against his mouth.

But before she could whimper anything else, the pleasure erupted inside of her, red hot heat unraveling to every limb. Her release was a fiery blast—white-hot and overwhelming, turning her into the image of destruction. Her hair stuck to her skin, her back arching off the bed, feeling overwhelmed as his cock hit her deeper. She succumbed to the bliss, eyes shut tight, and her furrowed brow as she surrendered through her orgasm. 

He held her tighter, pumping himself into her as she finally let go, calling out his name in a breathless whimper. She came so hard her legs were shaking uncontrollably, but he didn't stop. He pounded into her harder, reveling in the way she fell apart for him.

"I-I'm close," he grunted. "Where... where do you want me to—"

"Inside."

He looked down at her, trying to hold himself to not combust right there and then. "Are you—" he groaned when she clenched around him. "Are you sure?"

She was already too deep in her climax that any worries faded away. It was like time slowed down, and all that mattered was the intense sensations taking over her body. It was wrong, but it was what she wanted. She wanted to be full of him.

"Yes. Please, just—please," she whispered. "Cum inside me."

It was enough for him to let go, chasing his own pleasure inside of her, hitting deep within her walls as her own arousal dripped out around him. The slick and messy noises mixed with his groans filled the room, heat continuing to rush to her face as her entire body became overly sensitive.

With one final, sharp inhale, the bliss took hold of him. His hips slowed as he began to release inside of her, filling her up with a few huffs and grunts, creating a bigger mess between her thighs. He thrust one last time as the last few drops spilled from him, continuing to press his body against hers as closely as possible.

Then everything went silent except the sound of their ragged breathing. He pulled out of her with a heavy sigh, just as spent as her, breathless beyond belief. He collapsed on the bed, his chest rising up and down as he tried to gain some sense of control, his mind trying to grasp on the euphoria that happened moments ago.

"Well that was—"

She quickly nodded beside him. "Yeah."

Spencer turned his head towards her, and she could already feel him gloating that before he had the chance to say anything, she covered his mouth with her hand. "Do not say anything."

His reply was muffled underneath her palm, and she didn't understand what he was trying to say. She didn't even bother wanting to listen to him anymore. So she got off the bed, wincing when she felt the mess dripping down her thighs as she walked over to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?"

"Taking a shower," she called out. "I feel... sticky."

She then heard some rustling and she turned to see him hopping off the bed, following behind her. She narrowed her eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I feel sticky too."

"Spencer."

His lips twitched into an amused smile. "You called me Spencer."

She groaned and turned around. "We're not showering together, Reid."

"Why not?" He pressed, following her behind. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

She looked at him, assessing the way he was practically begging with his eyes. She was pondering whether it was a good idea to spend more time with him in an enclosed space. Probably not, but considering all the filthy, nasty things they had done, sharing a shower seemed harmless. 

"Alright, fine," she caved in, letting out a sigh. "Just keep your hands to yourself."

He nodded eagerly, but she should've thought better when the spray of water finally hit their bodies and he closed in around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he held her waist. Then he pressed her against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, and it was safe to say that he could not, as a matter of fact, keep his hands to himself.

Not that she was complaining.

.

a/n: I know this was supposed to be enemies to fuckable enemies but they're really starting to grow on me, they kinda cute

.

Oneshot taglist: @simpingforharryandcevans @strawbeerossi @lightvixxen @dim-i-try @annabellexox @baby-banana @natarataca @wolfbeanpotion @nagemasstuff @alexander-arcturus-black @rosieee491 @s00dastereo @no-honey-no @donttrustlove @tylevx @kailey-rae @sailorholly @ducksong @infinitegalaxiesworld @dreamsarebig @brilliantreid @boimlers-gonna-boim

PLEASE READ: The crossed-out ones are blogs I can’t tag. And if any of you asked me to be added and you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can't tag you. Thank you :)

[bbdeongi]

PANTIE THIEF

☆PAIRING: Sub!Yunho x Dom!Reader

☆GENRE: smut

☆WARNINGS: Roomates, Sub Yunho, Dom Fem reader, degradation, pet names, eating out, jerking off/hand job, cowgirl, lots of praise as well.

☆SUMMARY: Your underwear kept going missing.. finally one day, you find the culprit.

☆A/N: request from @hwxbibi

7.2k words

It had been two weeks of something strange, and you’d finally hit your limit. For days now, you’d noticed an odd pattern: certain pairs of your panties had been disappearing from your drawer, only to reappear in the wash later as though you’d worn them. But you hadn’t. You knew your habits well enough to tell when something was out of place.

At first, you thought maybe you were overthinking it—maybe it was a mistake, or maybe you’d tossed them in the hamper without remembering. But it kept happening, and the unease in your chest grew until it was impossible to ignore.

Your roommate, Yunho, didn’t seem to notice anything unusual. He was his usual charming, friendly self—tall, broad, and always ready with a laugh or a kind word. He was frustratingly handsome, with dark eyes that seemed to sparkle when he smiled, and you hated that just being around him made your heart race. But now, every interaction made you suspicious.

You’d known Yunho for years, and you shared a close friendship, even if there was an unspoken tension between you. You’d chalked it up to your crush on him—a crush you’d kept buried because there was no way someone like him, with his confident smile and natural charisma, would be into you.

But then something was off.. Yunho had been acting a little different lately. He was quieter around you, his usual confident and teasing demeanor replaced with something more subdued. You’d caught him staring at you a few times, quickly looking away when you noticed. You’d thought it was just your imagination or maybe even your own crush on him clouding your perception. But now, you weren’t so sure.

But tonight, something felt different and you were determined to figure it out.

It was just past 9 PM when you got back to your shared apartment. The lights were on, and Yunho’s shoes were by the door, meaning he was home. You kicked off your own shoes, dropped your bag by the couch, and made your way down the hall toward your bedroom. Everything seemed normal—quiet and still. But as you walked down to your room, the feeling of unease returned.

That’s when you noticed it: your door was open.

Your heart sank. You knew you’d closed it when you left earlier. You always closed your door out of habit—it was your little sanctuary in the shared space. A knot of unease tightened in your stomach as you approached, your footsteps slow and deliberate.

When you reached the doorway, you stopped in your tracks.

Yunho was standing in front of your dresser, his tall frame slightly hunched as he rifled through the top drawer—your underwear drawer.

Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of shock and anger flooding your chest. “Yunho,” you said sharply, your voice cutting through the silence like a whip.

He froze. His shoulders stiffened, and his head whipped around to look at you, his dark eyes wide with panic. “I—I—” he stammered, his face flushing crimson as he quickly stepped back from the dresser, a pair of your panties clutched in his large hand.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you demanded, stepping into the room and crossing your arms.

“I… I can explain,” Yunho said, his voice shaky as he dropped the panties

You stepped further into the room, closing the door behind you with a decisive click. Yunho’s tall frame seemed to shrink slightly as he realized he was cornered. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his dark eyes flicking to the floor, then to you, and then back to the floor as if searching for a way out.

“I’m waiting,” you said, your tone sharp as you crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I…” Yunho’s voice faltered, and he let out a shaky breath, his hand still lingering on the edge of your dresser. He looked completely out of his element—like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. His usual confidence and charm were gone, replaced by something hesitant, something vulnerable. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” he muttered finally, his voice so soft you almost didn’t catch it.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Find out what, Yunho? That you’ve been sneaking into my room and stealing my panties?”

Yunho winced at your blunt words, his face burning crimson. “I… I wasn’t stealing them,” he said quickly, as though that somehow made it better.

“Oh, really?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “So what exactly were you doing, then?”

He hesitated, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His gaze flicked to the drawer, then back to you, and for a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he took a deep breath and blurted out, “I—I just… I wanted something of yours.”

The admission hung heavy in the air, and your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected confession. You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a step closer. “Why?”

Yunho shifted uncomfortably, his large frame towering over you despite the fact that he looked like he wanted to shrink into the floor. “Because,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Because what, Yunho?” you pressed, your tone unrelenting.

He looked up at you then, his dark eyes filled with a mix of shame and something else—something raw and vulnerable. “Because I like you, okay?” he said, the words rushing out in a single breath. “I’ve liked you for a long time, and… and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden confession. Of all the explanations you’d been expecting, this wasn’t one of them.

“So your solution was to… what? Go through my underwear drawer?” you said, your voice skeptical. You felt creeped out but at the same time you felt that feeling in your gut whenever you found something... hot.

Yunho’s face burned even brighter, and he let out a groan, covering his face with his hands. “I know it was stupid, okay? I wasn’t thinking. I just… I wanted to feel close to you. And I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way about me, so…” His voice trailed off, and he dropped his hands, looking utterly defeated.

For a moment, you didn’t say anything, your mind racing as you tried to process what he’d just said. Yunho liked you? The same Yunho who was always so confident and self-assured? The same Yunho who made your heart race every time he smiled at you?

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your thoughts. “Yunho,” you said, your tone softer now, though it still carried an edge of authority. “Come here.”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he finally stepped closer, his movements tentative. His towering height made him seem imposing, but right now, he looked anything but. He looked… small. I mean he was still way taller than you, but he acted... submissive?

You sat down on the edge of your bed, crossing your legs and gesturing for him to kneel in front of you. “Kneel,” you said firmly.

Yunho’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he looked like he might protest. But then he nodded, lowering himself to his knees in front of you. His broad shoulders hunched slightly, and his gaze was fixed on the floor, his usual confidence completely stripped away.

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. Even like this, he was undeniably beautiful. His dark hair fell slightly into his eyes, his jawline sharp and defined even as he looked down. And his lips… God, his lips were parted just enough to reveal the slightest hint of teeth, as though he was biting back a response.

“Look at me,” you said, your voice calm but commanding.

Slowly, Yunho lifted his gaze to meet yours. His dark eyes were filled with a mix of guilt and longing, and the sight made something stir deep within you.

“You’ve been a bad boy, Yunho,” you said, your tone firm but teasing.

His breath hitched, and you saw his hands twitch slightly where they rested on his thighs. “I… I know,” he said softly.

“Do you?” you asked, leaning forward slightly. “Do you know how wrong it is to go through someone’s things without their permission?” You position yourself, so you were leaning over your legs.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“And do you know how much trouble you’re in right now?”

“Yes,” he said again, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red.

You smirked, satisfaction curling in your chest as you watched him squirm under your gaze. “Good,” you said, leaning back slightly. “Then I think it’s time I teach you a lesson.”

Yunho’s eyes widened slightly at your words, and you saw the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. His breath quickened, and you could see the anticipation and nervousness flickering in his gaze.

“Take off your shirt,” you said simply, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Yunho hesitated for only a moment before reaching down, grabbing the hem of his shirt, and pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. The sight of his bare chest made your breath catch for just a second—his toned muscles and smooth skin were exactly as you’d imagined, maybe even better.

You reached out, trailing your fingers lightly over his chest, watching as he shivered under your touch. His breaths came in short, uneven bursts, and you could see the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, as though he was trying to keep himself in check.

“You’ve got such a nice body, Yunho,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against the line of his collarbone. “It’s a shame you used it to do something so naughty.”

“I’m sorry,” Yunho said quickly, his voice trembling slightly.

“Oh, you will be,” you said, your smirk widening. “But for now, I think you’ve got some making up to do.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as your hand lingered on Yunho’s chest. His heart was racing beneath your fingertips, and the way he looked at you—with so much vulnerability it made your own heart flutter in your chest.

“Yunho,” you began softly, your voice losing some of its sharp edge. His dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the way they searched your face made your throat tighten. You let out a quiet sigh, shaking your head slightly as a wry smile tugged at your lips.

“You’re such a dumbass sometimes, you know that?” you murmured, your tone soft but teasing.

He blinked, his brows furrowing slightly in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you said, leaning closer, your fingers trailing up to rest lightly against his jaw, “that you’ve been acting like a fool, sneaking around and making all these excuses… when all you had to do was tell me how you felt.”

Yunho’s breath hitched at your words, his lips parting slightly as if to respond, but no sound came out. His wide eyes searched yours, and you could see the shock and hope flickering in his expression.

“I like you too, Yunho,” you admitted, your voice steady despite the slight nervous flutter in your chest. “I’ve liked you for a long time. But instead of just saying something, you pull this ridiculous ass stunt?”

“I—I didn’t think…” Yunho started, his voice trembling. “I didn’t think you’d feel the same way.”

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Well, you thought wrong,” you said simply, leaning even closer until your lips were just a breath away from his.

You didn’t let him speak, instead you closed the small distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was firm and deliberate.

Yunho froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but then he melted against you, his large hands twitching slightly on his thighs as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but didn’t dare. His lips were soft and warm against yours, and the kiss quickly deepened, filled with all the emotions that had been simmering between you for so long.

His lips were soft and plump against yours. you cupped his cheeks as you continued to kiss him, he was still on his knees, in-between your thighs. he looked so hot and desperate like this... you eventually pulled back, his eyes were glassy.. like puppy eyes.

You leaned in close, brushing your thumb lightly along Yunho’s jaw, watching as he trembled beneath your touch. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction at how completely you had unraveled him.

“This is your last warning,” you said firmly, your voice dropping to a low, commanding tone. “If you don’t behave, you’re going to regret it. Do you understand?”

Yunho nodded quickly, his gaze fixed on you as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the moment. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice a little shaky.

“Yes, what?” you prompted, arching an eyebrow as you tilted his chin up slightly, forcing him to look directly into your eyes.

For a moment, he hesitated, his dark eyes flickering with uncertainty. Then, in a soft, trembling voice, he whispered, “Yes… mommy.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you blinked, stunned. The word hung in the air between you like a spark, and you could feel your heart race at the sound of it. Yunho’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his gaze darting away as though he was regretting the slip.

But you weren’t upset. Far from it. in fact, you actually liked it. never in your life have you felt.. I guess, powerful. you've never felt a sense of dominance.

“Mommy?” you repeated, your voice softer now, almost teasing. Yunho’s eyes flicked back to yours, wide with nervousness, and you could see the way his lips parted slightly as if to explain himself.

“I—” he started, but you placed a finger over his lips, silencing him.

You studied him for a moment, the tension in the room shifting slightly. The raw vulnerability in his eyes tugged at something deep inside you, softening the edge of your demeanor. You had never seen Yunho like this before—so open, so submissive—and it stirred something in you that you couldn’t ignore.

After a moment, you lowered your hand, your voice gentler now as you asked, “bub, are you okay with this?”

His eyes widened slightly at the question, and for a moment, he looked genuinely surprised. “I—yeah,” he said quickly, his voice earnest but still trembling. “I want this. I… I want to be good for you.”

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “I need you to be honest with me,” you said, your tone steady but kind. “If this is too much, or if there’s anything you don’t want, you need to tell me. Okay?”

Yunho nodded again, his gaze unwavering as he looked up at you. “I’m okay,” he said, his voice gaining a little more confidence. “I want this. I… I like it.”

His admission sent a warmth flooding through you, and you felt your lips curve into a small smile. “Good,” you said softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Because I like it too.”

The relief that washed over Yunho’s face was visible, and he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly as the tension in the room eased. You placed a hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing over his flushed skin as you took a moment to simply look at him, the boy who had always been your friend, now kneeling before you in a way that felt both strange and undeniably right.

“Just let me take the lead, okay?” you said softly, your voice reassuring. “We’ll go slow.”

“Okay,” Yunho said, his voice barely above a whisper, but the eagerness in his tone was there.

You sat back slightly, still perched on the edge of the bed, your gaze locked on Yunho’s flushed face as his breathing steadied. There was a vulnerability in his expression that made your chest tighten, but beneath it was something else—something tentative yet eager, like he was waiting for permission to cross a line he’d only ever dreamed of approaching.

Your dress shifted slightly as you adjusted your position, the soft fabric brushing against your thighs. Yunho’s eyes flickered downward, his gaze lingering for just a second too long before darting back to your face. His lips parted as if to say something, but the words didn’t come immediately.

“What is it?” you asked softly, tilting your head as you studied him.

He hesitated, his large hands fidgeting slightly on his thighs. “Can I…” He paused, swallowing hard as his dark eyes searched yours. “Can I take them off?”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly, and a flicker of amusement danced across your face. “Take what off?” you teased, even though you knew exactly what he meant.

“Your… panties,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he quickly added, “Only if you’re okay with it.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. Yunho, despite his size and his usual confidence, looked so small in this moment, kneeling before you and waiting for your approval.

You let out a soft hum, your lips curving into a slight smile as you reached down, trailing your fingers lightly along his jaw. “You want to take them off?” you asked, your voice calm but laced with intrigue.

“Yes,” he said quickly, his voice trembling slightly. “Please.”

The corner of your mouth lifted in a smirk as you leaned back slightly, letting your hands rest at your sides. “Alright,” you said simply. “Go ahead.”

Yunho’s breath hitched, his wide eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before flicking downward again. His large hands trembled slightly as he reached out, his fingertips brushing against the hem of your dress. The soft fabric bunched beneath his fingers as he pushed it up slowly, revealing more of your thighs with each passing second.

His movements were careful, almost reverent, as though he was afraid of going too fast or doing something wrong. You watched him intently, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the way his hands lingered just above the waistband of your panties, hesitating.

“Go on,” you encouraged softly, your voice breaking the silence.

Yunho nodded, his fingers slipping beneath the thin fabric. The heat of his hands against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel his breath hitch as he began to slide the material down. The intimacy of the moment was almost overwhelming, and you could see the way his cheeks burned with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

As the panties slid past your knees, then down to your ankles, Yunho carefully lifted them away, his hands brushing against your skin in a way that made your breath catch. He held them for a moment, his gaze flickering between the fabric in his hands and your face, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

You leaned forward slightly, placing a hand under his chin to tilt his face back up to yours. “Good boy,” you murmured, your voice warm and full of approval.

Yunho’s breath hitched at the praise, his dark eyes searching yours for a moment before he whispered, “Thank you.”

Yunho’s forehead rested against your knees, and his breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. His large hands, which had been lingering just above your thighs, tightened their hold ever so slightly, his thumbs brushing over the soft curves as if testing the limits of how far he could go.

You tilted your head, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you watched him. There was something intoxicating about seeing someone as tall and confident as Yunho in this position, completely at your mercy, waiting for your permission to do anything more.

“Yuyu,” you said softly, your tone laced with a hint of teasing.

He lifted his head at the sound of your voice, his dark eyes searching yours as if waiting for your next command. “Yes?” he breathed, his voice trembling slightly.

You leaned forward, your hand slipping under his chin to tilt his face up toward you. “You’re shaking,” you murmured, your lips curling into a wicked smile. “Are you nervous, baby?”

“A little,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing. “I… I don’t want to mess up.”

You chuckled softly, your thumb brushing over his lower lip as you leaned in closer. “Don’t worry,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. “You’re doing just fine. But if you really want to impress me…”

Yunho’s breath hitched, his gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The way he looked at you—wide-eyed and eager, his lips slightly parted—sent a rush of heat through your body. You trailed your fingers down his jawline, your touch light and deliberate as you leaned back just enough to make him follow you with his gaze.

“Use your imagination,” you teased, your voice dripping with suggestion.

Yunho’s breath caught, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. Slowly, hesitantly, his hands began to move, sliding up your thighs with a mix of confidence and nervousness. The warmth of his palms against your skin made your breath hitch, and you could see the way his dark eyes flickered with both anticipation and uncertainty.

“Can I…?” he started, his voice trembling.

“You don’t need to ask,” you interrupted softly, leaning back on your hands as you watched him. “Not this time.”

That was all the encouragement Yunho needed. His hands gripped your thighs more firmly, his thumbs tracing small circles as his head dipped forward. His breath was warm against your skin, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as his lips brushed against your inner thigh—soft, tentative, but enough to make your heart race.

“ah, fuck...” you murmured, your voice low but steady.

He froze, his lips hovering just above your skin as he looked up at you, his eyes wide with uncertainty.

“You’re being so good for me,” you said, your tone gentle but laced with authority. “Keep going.”

Yunho’s cheeks flushed even deeper, but the praise seemed to give him the confidence he needed. His lips pressed against your thigh again, more firmly this time, and the warmth of his mouth sent a rush of heat through your body.

“You really like this, don’t you?” you asked, your voice teasing as you watched him.

Yunho pulled back just enough to look up at you, his dark eyes filled with a mix of embarrassment and longing. “I do,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I… I just want to make you feel good.”

You smirked, leaning forward to trail your fingers through his dark hair. “Then don’t stop,” you said simply.

Yunho’s confidence surged at your praise, warmth flooding his chest as he felt a new determination take hold. He trailed soft kisses along your thighs, his heart racing with anticipation. The sweet scent of you mingled with the air around him, intoxicating and irresistible.

With every gentle nudge, he moved closer to where you wanted him most. Your cunt already slick and wet just for him. He could feel your excitement beneath him, and it only fueled his desire. As he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused for a moment, looking up at you for a brief second, seeking your approval.

“Please,” you encouraged softly, your voice a sultry whisper that sent a thrill through him.

That was all the permission he needed. Yunho leaned in, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed gentle kisses against your pussy. The sensation made you gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair as he began to explore with his tongue, teasing and tasting, drawing soft sounds from your lips.

He was meticulous, taking his time to savor every moment, every reaction from you. With each flick of his tongue, he learned what made you shiver, what made you gasp, and he committed it all to memory. Your taste was sweet, intoxicating, and he couldn’t get enough.

“You taste amazing,” he murmured against you, the vibrations sending delightful shivers through your body. He continued, growing bolder, driven by the sounds of your pleasure and the way you responded to him. He took his time, making sure to bring you to the edge, then pulling back just enough to keep you yearning for more.

“Yunnie..,” you breathed, your voice thick with desire, “don’t stop.”

Encouraged by your words, he dove back in with renewed fervor, his focus solely on your pleasure, lost in the moment, determined to show you just how good he could be. He sucked and gently bit your bud making you whine. You slowly started to grind on his face, as he pulled your legs apart more.

Yunho felt a rush of bliss as he continued his exploration, his lips working with purpose against you. His tongue moved with a deliberate, teasing rhythm, swirling and flicking with a newfound confidence. Each caress sent electric shocks through your body, igniting a fire that spread from your core to every nerve ending.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, guiding him, urging him to delve deeper. “Yunho,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with both need and admiration. You could feel the way he responded to your words, the way his movements became more fervent, more eager as he lost himself in the act of worship.

As his mouth moved in with your rising pleasure, Yunho gripped your thighs, his fingers digging in just enough to anchor himself as he pulled you closer. The sensation of his hands holding you firmly, coupled with the delicious pressure of his mouth, sent you spiraling into a dizzying haze of ecstasy. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, contrasting beautifully with the cool air around you, heightening every sensation.

“Just like that,” you encouraged, your head thrown back as the pleasure built within you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in this intimate cocoon. Yunho’s eyes were dark with desire as he watched you, taking in every gasp, every shiver that coursed through your body. The sight of you utterly lost in pleasure fueled his own need to please. "s- such a good f- fucking boy.."

With a newfound intensity, he began to suck, his lips wrapping around you as he worked his tongue in swirling motions, alternating between teasing flicks and deep, passionate pulls. Each movement drew soft cries from your lips, and you could feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter and tighter.

“Yunho, please,” you gasped, your voice thick with desperation. You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, the familiar ache that signaled you were close. “mngh.. k- keep going, baby.”

The words turned him on, and he increased his pace, his fingers gripping your thighs tighter as he held you in place. The pressure of his mouth against you was relentless, and you could feel every movement, every sensation magnified. You were completely at his mercy, and the thought sent shivers of delight coursing through you.

With every flick of his tongue, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of bliss. You could feel your own body responding to him, the way your core tightened with each delicious pull. It was intoxicating, and you wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in this moment with him.

“Baby,” you moaned, your voice trembling as you lost yourself in the sensations. Your fingers twisted in his hair, urging him closer, deeper, as if you could pull him into you entirely. He responded with a low groan, the sound vibrating against you, sending shockwaves of pleasure racing through your body.

He could sense your building pleasure, the way your breathing became erratic, and the way your hips instinctively began to move against him. It drove him wild, and he surrendered completely to the moment, focusing solely on your pleasure. He worshiped you, savoring each taste, each sound, as if you were the most exquisite delicacy he had ever encountered.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter, your body trembling as you felt the waves of pleasure crashing over you. “I’m so close,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper, but Yunho didn’t slow down. If anything, he pushed harder, his mouth working with fervor as he sought to bring you over the edge. "G- gonna cum.."

“Cum for me,” he urged, his voice muffled against you, and the raw need in his tone sent a thrill through you. “I want to taste you.”

With a final, desperate gasp, you felt the tension snap, your body arching as waves of pleasure washed over you. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room as you surrendered completely to the bliss that took over you. Your fingers tightened in his hair as the world exploded in a kaleidoscope of sensations, leaving you breathless and utterly spent. You came all over his face as you whined and moaned, not caring if anyone else heard.

Yunho didn’t stop. He continued to suck gently, coaxing every last drop of pleasure from you as you rode the waves of your orgasm. The sound of your pleasure spurred him on, and he reveled in the taste of you, in the way your body responded to him.

Finally, as the last tremors of pleasure subsided, he pulled back, looking up at you with a mix of awe and satisfaction. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your eyes still glazed with the remnants of ecstasy. The sight of you, blissed out and completely at his mercy, filled him with a sense of pride, and a warmth spread through him.

“Did I do okay?” he asked softly, his voice a low murmur filled with vulnerability. The question was almost shy, contrasting sharply with the confident way he had just brought you to the brink.

You smiled down at him, your heart swelling with affection. “You did more than okay, baby. You were incredible.” Your fingers brushed against his cheek, and you could see the relief wash over him. The connection between you felt electric, and you could sense the bond deepening in this shared moment of intimacy.

“Thank you,” he said, a shy smile breaking across his face. “I just wanted to make you feel good.”

“Oh, you definitely did,” you replied, your voice teasing but sincere. You pulled him up, your fingers tangling in his hair as you brought him closer, wanting to feel him against you. The warmth of his body pressed against you was intoxicating, and you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Now,” you said, your tone shifting as you met his gaze, “it’s my turn to show you just how much I appreciate that.”

His eyes widened slightly, a spark of excitement igniting within them. He was eager, a hint of shyness still lingering but overshadowed by the hunger he felt. “Really?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Absolutely,” you replied, a playful smile dancing on your lips. You could see the way his breath quickened, and it filled you with a sense of thrill. The night was far from over, and you were determined to take your time, to explore every inch of each other.

As you shifted beneath him, the world outside faded away once more. In this moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s warmth and pleasure, ready to dive deeper into the intoxicating connection that bound you both.

As you pulled Yunho closer, you could feel the heat radiating from him, his body alive with the desire you had ignited. The air was thick with anticipation, each breath heavy with unspoken promises. You wanted to explore this newfound intimacy further, to see just how deep the connection could go.

“Come here,” you whispered, guiding him until he was seated beside you on the bed. The soft fabric felt cool against your heated skin, contrasting sharply with the warmth of his body. You could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but it was quickly overshadowed by the eagerness that lay beneath.

Yunho shifted, his gaze locked onto you as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world. It sent a thrill through you, knowing the power you held in this moment. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his in a soft, teasing kiss that ignited the spark between you once more.

“Let me take care of you,” you murmured against his lips, your voice low and sultry. You could see the way his breath hitched, the way his dark eyes widened with a mix of surprise and excitement.

With a gentle push, you guided him back onto the bed, your fingers trailing down his chest as you made your way toward his waist. The anticipation hung heavy in the air as you slowly began to unbutton his pants, your fingers nimble and deliberate. Each button you released felt like a small victory, a step closer to fully unraveling him.

As the fabric fell away, revealing his toned legs, you could feel your pulse quicken. The moment you slipped his pants down, you were met with the unexpected sight of him—Yunho wasn’t wearing any boxers, and he was hard, fully exposed and waiting for you. precum already dripping from the tip of his cock. A rush of heat coursed through your body, and you couldn't help but bite your lip at the sight.

“Shit,” you breathed, your eyes wide with admiration. “You’re beautiful.”

He let out a nervous laugh, the vulnerability in his expression only making him more irresistible. “I didn’t know how far this would go,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Neither did I,” you confessed, your voice a sultry whisper. “But I want to explore it with you.”

You could see the mixture of excitement and nerves in his eyes, and it only fueled your desire to show him just how much you wanted him. Leaning down, you placed soft kisses along his thighs, taking your time to savor the moment, to let your lips explore his skin. You could feel the tension beginning to build again, the way his breath quickened with every kiss.

As you reached the apex of his thighs, you paused, looking up at him for a brief moment. “Are you ready?” you asked, wanting to ensure he was comfortable.

“More than ready,” he replied, his voice thick with need.

With that, you took the plunge, wrapping your fingers around his length, feeling the warmth of him against your palm. The sensation sent a rush of excitement through you, and you began to move your hand slowly, deliberately, teasingly. The way he responded to your touch was intoxicating, and you could feel the heat building between you. He was big.. bigger than you thought.

“Just like that,” he breathed, his head falling back against the pillows. The sight of him completely lost in pleasure was enough to send your own heart racing. You continued to stroke him, your movements becoming more confident as you found a rhythm that made him gasp and moan beneath you. "O- oh.. mommy fuck.."

“look at you..” you murmured, your voice filled with desire. “Such a pretty cock.”

He let out a low groan, his fingers tangling in the sheets as he surrendered to the sensations. You watched as his body responded to you, the way his hips instinctively bucked against your hand, seeking more of the pleasure you were giving him. Each movement, each sound, only fueled your desire to bring him to the edge.

You continued to jerk him off. you leaned down and teased him, by licking his tip as you continued to pump him.. His whines filled the room and were like music to your ears..

"M- mommy.."

"J- just like that.."

"Hnghh.. Fuckfuckfuck!"

You could feel the tension coiling within him, the way his breaths became erratic as you quickened your pace. The room was filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, and you could feel the electricity crackling between you, binding you in this intimate moment.

You had an idea.. Something you had always thought of, but never brought it up. You held his dick with one hand, making it stand straight up. Yunho looked at you, curious.. You flattened out your other hand and began rubbing your palm in a circular motion on the tip of his cock.. It send Yunho into shock. He immediately threw his head back against the pillow and started to whine like a puppy. His hands gripped the sheet as his toes started to curl..

"M- Mommy.. p- please.. oh God.."

You smirked, watching him squirm as you kept going with your action.. You liked this side of him. He was so vulnerable and submissive under your touch. Kind of like a little puppy.

“Don’t stop,” he gasped, his voice thick with urgency. “I’m so close.”

With those words, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his skin as you continued to stroke him, feeling the heat radiating from him. The sensation of your mouth so close to him sent an intoxicating thrill through you, and you could feel your own desire building in response. You then let go of his cock, earning a wince from him. He was so close.. So close to cumming in your hand..

“Yunho,” you whispered, looking up at him with sultry eyes. “I want to feel you inside me.”

His breath hitched at your words, and you could see the desire flood his features. “Ar- are you sure?” he asked, his voice a mix of urgency and concern.

“More than anything,” you replied, your heart racing at the thought of what was to come. "Want to feel your cock.."

With a newfound determination, you shifted your position, climbing onto the bed and straddling him. As you lowered yourself, you could feel the weight of him pressing against you, the anticipation sending shivers down your spine. You took a moment to savor the feeling, to relish in the connection that was steadily building between you. You had to take a break from how big he was.. he wasn't even halfway in you yet..

Yunho’s hands found your waist, his fingers gripping you firmly as you positioned yourself above him. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the way he was trembling with anticipation. As you lowered yourself further, you felt the delicious stretch as he entered you, filling you completely.

A gasp escaped your lips, and you could see the way his eyes widened in awe. The sensation was overwhelming, and you took a moment to adjust, to savor the fullness as you both connected in the most intimate way. You could feel the way he throbbed inside you, and it sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Y- you okay mama?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

“s'good.. so big,” you breathed, a smile breaking across your face. “W- want you to fuck me..”

With that invitation, Yunho began to thrust upward, his hands guiding your movements as you found a rhythm together. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in this intimate dance of pleasure. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you, and you could feel the tension building once more. His cock hitting your g-spot over and over again. you were on the verge of tears.

“Just like that,” you encouraged, your voice breathless as you rode him, feeling the way he filled you completely. The connection between you was electric, and you reveled in the way your bodies moved together, each thrust igniting a fire within you.

As the intensity grew, you could feel your own pleasure spiraling higher, the way your body responded to him perfectly, as if you were made for this. You leaned forward, your hands resting on his chest as you looked down at him, your breath coming in short gasps.

Skin clapping filled the bedroom as you bounced up and down on him. He eventually took off the rest of your dress and threw it somewhere. He drooled at the sight of your perfect, round breast.

"Holy shit.." His veiny hands squeezed both of them, making you throw your head back, moaning his name. He pinched your nipples. He loved the sight of you. As he pinched your sensitive nubs, he glanced down at his cock disappearing into you. The way it was going in and out, He could just cum from that.

He pulled you closer, attaching his mouth on your right breast, him squeezing the other one. "yuyu.. A- ah.." You whimpered. He looked up at you as he bit your nub, like an innocent boy..

“Yunho,” you moaned, the sound escaping your lips as you felt the pleasure building to a peak. “I’m gonna cum..”

“Me too,” he gasped, his eyes dark with desire as he met your gaze. "C- can I cum inside o- of you, mommy?"

You nod, your boobs bouncing, as you rapidly go up and down on his cock once more, chasing your orgasm.

With a final thrust, you felt the tension snap, the waves of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out his name. You finished all over his cock, as you squirted a little bit.

Yunho followed shortly after, his body tensing beneath you as he let out a deep groan, the sound reverberating through you as he reached his own peak. His white ropes released inside of your tight walls. You could feel the warmth of him filling you, and it sent another wave of pleasure coursing through your body. Some of his cum dripped out of your cunt and onto his stomach.

As the waves of ecstasy subsided, you collapsed against him, breathless and spent. You could feel his heart racing beneath you, the warmth of his body wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

“fuck..” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “fuck, indeed,” you echoed, feeling content and blissful in the aftermath of your shared experience. The connection between you felt deeper than ever, and you could sense that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

In that moment, you knew that you had crossed a threshold together, a bond forged in passion and intimacy that would linger long after the night was over.

His gaze met yours, filled with a mix of hesitation and vulnerability that you’d never seen before. “Y/N...” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… need you. I love you...”

The weight of his confession settled between you, leaving the room thick with tension.

"I- I love you too, Yunnie.." You whisper back to him, a blush creeping on your cheeks.. Then you said something that made Yunho blush a little.

"You pantie thief.."

And for the first time, you wondered if this night had opened a door that neither of you could close...