#wander home one shots

[nejackdaw]

They would be friends

[wander-over-the-words]

My mama swears she can’t hear Matthew Perry when she hears Benny speak nrgnrgn

[kurooh]

DOUBLE FANTASY ★ JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring threesomes with gojo satoru + geto suguru, nanami kento + higuruma hiromi, shiu kong + fushiguro toji, tsukumo yuki + kamo choso.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, threesomes, oral [m&f rec], spit roasting, double penetration, some degradation, choking, rough sex, squirting, sharing a cigarette, spit, clit slaps. | 4.5K words of FILTH

xoxo, juno. comment & rb if you enjoyed <3 !

GOJO & GETO.

perhaps letting your two roommates take care of you after a messy breakup wasn’t a good idea—or is it? less than an hour ago, you’d come home sobbing, cheeks wet with tears and eyes puffy.

satoru and suguru had pulled you into a tight hug, internally thankful you’d broken things off with that asshole (they’d hated when he would come around) but also sympathetic towards you. it was a tough choice, which was then promptly celebrated over margaritas and shots on the couch. one thing led to another, and before you knew it, you were pressed flush against suguru’s strong chest, body sweltering with need hotter than a fire.

“s-sugu, i don’t think you can both fit inside.”

“not with that attitude, sweetheart,” suguru murmurs, hands settling on your hips as he places a small kiss to your cheek. “come now, anything’s possible if you believe in it.”

“bleh, you sound like confucius,” satoru fake gags dramatically, lining his cock up with his best friend’s. their sticky tips prod at your folds, and your heart races faster, rattling around in your ribcage so loudly you can hear it in your ears. although you’re a little nervous, the alcohol you’ve had helps to take the edge away; you impatiently wiggle your hips forward.

“i’m sorry . . ? do you even know who confucius is?” suguru asks incredulously, flicking his bangs to the side with a jerk of his head.

“i’ve seen you read enough of—”

“don’t do this right now,” you plead, voice whiny. “just fuck me already.”

“now, honey. you’ll have plenty of time to slut yourself out for us, don’t you worry.”

“nah, she’s right,” satoru quips, wrapping his hand around their cocks. suguru inhales sharply, unintentionally jerking his hips forward for more. “you ready for us, babe?”

you nod weakly, and the three of you moan in unison as satoru pushes their cocks inside you. it’s slow at first, but the stretch is one that you’ll remember for a lifetime—the burn of being split open on two cocks melts into something euphoric as each inch passes your entrance. satoru groans hungrily, his head falling back. snowy tufts of hair obscure his diamond blue eyes that he tightly squeezes shut, and a huff of breath leaves his lips.

suguru kisses your jaw, fingers trailing along the slopes of your body before finally sweeping over the delicate skin of your throat. you breath hitches when he whispers into your ear: “we’d always hear you begging to be choked harder. don’t you remember that, satoru?”

“hngh, yeah,” he swallows hard at the memory—he and his best friend always heard everything through those paper thin walls. they’d heard your dissatisfaction and vowed to satiate you someday. “and you’d always be going deeper, deeper!”

your cheeks burn with embarrassment. had your roommates really heard everything? how did they face you so easily in the morning after being kept awake each night?

“we’ll give you everything, sweetheart.”

suguru squeezes your throat experimentally, and the corners of his lips lift when you release a moan you’d been holding back for far too long. he and his best friend slowly start to move, rocking their hips into you and developing a smooth tempo.

“both of you are so fucking big,” you mewl, back bowing off of suguru’s chest. they’re filling you up and stretching you out and just as you think it can’t get any better, satoru’s nimble fingers wander to your clit. he curiously toys with it, eyes darkening lustfully once you react how he’d been hoping you would.

“perfect size just for you,” suguru coos, yanking you down by the throat. “satoru, spank her a little.”

he obliges, reading his best friend’s mind easily—a stinging slap lands on your clit, sending prickling shocks of pleasure through your body. the tips of their cocks kiss your cervix, pushing so deep you can’t seem to breathe. satoru gifts your swollen, sensitive clit with slap after slap; the force behind each one only increases until you’re crying freely.

but you’re not begging him to stop, you’re begging him for more.

“god, i always knew you were a fucking slut,” satoru chokes out, pausing to lick some of your slick off his palm. your stomach flips around at the simple action, something hot flashing through you when he closes his eyes momentarily and savors the taste. “finally . . got you to myself.”

then he looks at suguru, who rolls his eyes. “well, for the most part.”

“no need to sound so excited,” he deadpans, huffing beneath you. “as if you’d fuck any better than that damn ex boyfriend.”

satoru scoffs in disbelief, slapping your clit with renewed strength. his hips are still moving, still burying his cock and suguru’s inside you deeper. they’ve got you entirely stuffed—maybe this would be better than some turkey on thanksgiving. your clit throbs with each punishing slap, but your eyes still roll back each time. while they bicker, your oxygen deprived brain spins with arousal and tipsiness. you shudder, going still and barely even managing to warn them of what’s about to happen.

“fuck, i’m gonna—‘m cumming,” you sob, sounding fragile just before you’re about to break. flashes of heat chase their way through you, until they finally explode out of you, in the form of a soaking orgasm. out of patterned habit, satoru’s palm smacks your puffy clit, which only prolongs your intoxicating high further. the intense contractions inadvertently push their cocks a few inches out of you, and your cum splashes on their skin, eliciting pleased groans from them both.

“baby, did you just—”

“she did, satoru,” suguru confirms, biting back a moan.

“i don’t even—i don’t know what happened,” you pant, hissing when someone’s tip bumps against your twitching clit.

“‘s called squirting,” satoru supplies, entranced as he stares at your messy cunt. a mixture of slick and cum coats your inner thighs, and he can’t help but swipe a finger across your skin and then stick it into his mouth. he releases it with a pop, and eyes suguru knowingly.

his voice is now raspy, thick with desire. “let’s make it happen again, sweetheart. we can take turns, of course. but my face comes before satoru’s.”

NANAMI & HIGURUMA.

the smooth oak wood surface of higuruma’s desk is littered with papers hastily swept to the side, and the fabric of your skirt fans out over a few of them. pens and other stationary supplies are forgotten on the floor, along with your now wrinkled blouse.

“h-holy shit—‘romi, right there! just like that.”

“one can only hope that this’ll be enough luck to carry us through the trial,” higuruma grunts, nails digging crescent shaped indents into the fat of your ass. he’s gripping you tightly, chest heaving rapidly as he vigorously fucks his cock deeper.

“ah, hiromi,” nanami huffs, pushing a few stray hairs away from his forehead. they’d escaped their neatly gelled place on his head when the three of you had rushed into higuruma’s office to discuss the final procedures before your trial. “don’t be a downer . . . this is more than lucky. we’ll win, of course.”

you sob, clawing at higuruma’s shoulders. he’d discarded his suit jacket long ago, carefully folded it on one of his bookshelves so as not to ruin the cuffs and smoothness of the fabric. now, he’s rolled the sleeves of his white shirt all the way up to his elbows, and his loosened black tie swings in your face with each of his thrusts.

“wait, hiromi,” your clammy hand pushes against his stomach insistently, “s-slow down, it’s too much, i—”

higuruma looks toward nanami for instruction, and the latter simply pauses stroking his cock. he stands, pushing back the spinning chair he’d been sitting on, and steps toward the edge of the desk. a sheen of sweat covers your forehead and disrupts the smoothness of your makeup, but nanami doesn’t take much pity on you—instead, he lightly slaps your cheek.

“need me to show you too much, angel?” his voice is low and dark, words laced with a throaty rasp that has your pussy squeezing higuruma’s cock. nanami’s eyebrow raises as he pushes your thighs apart to take a look at the mess between them.

“seems to me like she wants you to,” higuruma nods toward your pussy, then loosens his tie and collar further. “after my turn, of course.”

nanami grunts in agreement, settling on the edge of the desk beside your head instead of the chair. the desk creaks weakly from the newly added weight, and for a moment the idea of it collapsing beneath the three of you crosses your mind. higuruma snaps his hips forward, unconsciously licking the sweat away from his upper lip when he starts up.

your hand lamely pushes against his stomach again, but he shakes his head and nanami reacts immediately, intertwining his fingers with yours and slamming your hand down on the wood. whimpers leave your lips and the air is punched out of your lungs with each of higuruma’s strong thrusts; he’s so deep you can practically feel him in your chest.

“ken, i need—my clit,” you gasp, back bowing off the desk fruitlessly. your hips twist and jerk away from higuruma’s cock, for fear of being split open. “touch my clit, i need to cum—”

nanami slaps your cheek again, and your eyes roll back at the penalizing sting. “hiromi, you hear that? she wants to cum.” he mocks your words, then turns back to you, hazel eyes burning holes into your own. “and how do good girls ask to cum, baby? certainly not the way you just did.”

“‘m sorry,” you mewl, and higuruma slaps your clit and makes you shudder. “p-please, i wanna cum for you—i’ve been a good girl!”

“hm, hiromi? you think she’s been a good girl?”

you look up at higuruma pleadingly, tears gathered in your lashes and sparkling in the light. you’ve got that blissed out and dumb look on your face, completely at peace with being thrown around and shared between them.

“sluts take it,” he groans, teeth sinking into his lower lip hard. he yanks your body closer, further bullying his cock inside you. “‘nd you’ve been running from me—isn’t that right, babygirl?”

nanami clicks his tongue, and pinches one of your hardened nipples between his fingers. he looks down at you nicely, cheeks pink and hair mussed.

“maybe i’ll let you cum when it’s my turn,” he huffs, a small smile playing on his lips when you weakly moan his name as if he’ll give you permission. “for now, you’ll have to beg. now, go on and open wide, baby.”

the moment your lips part, nanami spits onto your tongue; he watches you expectantly and nodding in acceptance when you swallow, drunk on the taste of his peppermint gum.

“that’s right,” higuruma backs him up, looking down his nose at you expectantly. “speak now or forever hold your orgasm, sweetheart.”

TOJI & SHIU.

“so, princess, still up for lunch later?” shiu grunts around a chuckle, passing the lit cigarette to toji. the latter accepts it with a scoff, rolling his jade green eyes as he sticks it between his lips.

“yes,” you and toji answer at the same time, but your voice is muffled on shiu’s cock.

toji gifts your ass with a slap and exhales the smoke, handing the cigarette back to shiu with a glare. his once stagnant hips begin to move again, almost as if he’s rejuvenated from his little smoke break. shiu only laughs, cupping the crown of your head in order to ease his cock further down your throat.

“i’m surprised you’ve got the money for that, toji,” shiu teases, exhaling sharply when the tip of his cock bumps into your uvula and makes you gag. your throat constricts around his length and you let out a muffled whine in reaction to the stretch.

“you crazy or sum’n?” toji snaps, choosing to argue with his best friend while he’s balls deep inside you. his harsh thrusts make your pussy squelch, and shiu’s cum from earlier spills out onto the bedsheets below. “of course i’ve got the fuckin’ money for lunch, but you’re gonna be the one paying, dumbass.”

his fingers find your swollen clit and he pinches it, making you gasp around shiu’s cock. you choke, gagging so hard tears pool in your eyes—shiu strokes your head comfortingly as you pull off his cock, coughing hard.

“you okay, babygirl?” and he looks at toji disapprovingly, but he only continues to fuck you. the blunt head of his cock kisses your cervix lightly with each thrust, and when he feels like he’s not going deep enough, he lifts your hips to pull you back. “toji, that was mean.”

“mean . . ? shiu, my girl can fuckin’ handle it. ain’t that right, baby?” he looks to you for confirmation, quirking a brow while the scarred corner of his lip curves into a smirk.

this whole mess had started when you’d spent a night in with toji, watching movies and taking shots every now and then. you’d gotten drunk, swaying on your feet and giggling as you’d pointed to the tv screen dazedly.

“oh, toji, look! that guy looks like shiu!”

he could see the resemblance, and grunted, “damn, he does. ugly just like him too.”

“shiu isn’t ugly!” you jumped up drunkenly to defend his best friend’s appearance, waving your arms around dramatically. “he’s very good looking, actually.”

“oh, really? he doesn’t have any muscle, though.”

“toji, don’t be silly,” you laughed at your boyfriend, “‘course he does, it’s just under all those clothes of his. if he took ‘em off, you’d know what i mean!”

“so you got a crush on shiu?” toji asked in disbelief, his cheeks flaring a deeper pink as he took another vodka shot. “aw, i should let him know.”

one thing led to another, and shiu had come over for breakfast. then your little crush had gotten out, and a bet was placed—who could fuck you better? the condition for the loser was then set in place: whoever lost would buy lunch for the three of you without question.

“y-yeah, toji,” you mumble, forehead pressing into shiu’s pelvis weakly. he’d been the first to fuck you, and now it’s toji’s turn with your pussy—you’re sure you won’t walk smoothly ever again.

“can’t hear you,” toji taunts, lifting your hips and yanking you back onto his cock. the new angle forces him deeper, stretching your cunt out even further. “wanna repeat that for me, doll?”

“ngh, f-fuck,” you moan, eyes rolling back. his cock slams into that sweet, sensitive spot that’s deep inside you, and the tears that had been building in your eyes finally pour down your cheeks. the mascara and eye makeup you’d worn for the breakfast smears against shiu’s skin and makes messy tracks down your face. he curiously slips a finger beneath your chin to make you look up at him.

“aw, baby. i really can’t wait to hear who fucked you better . . . my back certainly wasn’t cracking as much as his is.”

“shut it, shiu,” toji groans, savoring the broken moans that freely leave your lips—gasping ah’s and whines that you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. “hand me the fuckin’ cig.”

shiu obliges, chuckling softly when he notices you pawing around his thighs in search of his cock. you whimper when you finally get his tip back in your mouth (with his guidance), slowly taking him in inch by inch. he groans, tossing his head back when he finally bumps into the back of your throat.

“m-mind if i fuck your mouth, doll face?” he asks, thighs twitching expectantly. a vein in toji’s forehead bulges at the way he steals his pet name for you.

you shake your head shyly, blinking slowly while toji fucks every single thought out of your head. he’s deliberately holding himself back so you’ll go dumb on his cock, unable to scream anything but his name. yes, this is how he’ll show shiu who can fuck—show him that you’re his girl, his doll face.

tendrils of smoke waft over your break before dissipating in the air as if they were never there. you shudder as toji’s fingers reach your clit, rubbing sloppy circles on the sensitive nub even though your hips rear away. you still haven’t recovered from the overstimulation shiu caused with both his tongue and fingers, but that’s okay. he’ll have you cumming on his cock regardless.

with a deep groan, shiu cups the back of your head to keep you steady, and he shoves his hips forward, his cock slamming far down your throat. you gag, but he’s merciless—doesn’t give you more than a second to breathe before he’s at it again, setting a brutal pace that matches toji’s.

“ugh, fuck—want ya to cum on this cock for me, doll,” he groans, starting to slap his fingers against your clit. your legs kick out in reaction, and you hump your hips back against his hand. toji’s fucked you so hard you can’t even feel shiu’s cum dripping out of you anymore; he’s seconds away from replacing it with his own thick load and having you hold it inside you during lunch.

you nod dumbly on shiu’s cock, starting to sob louder as your own orgasm hurtles toward you. the high is absolutely inescapable, and your watery eyes meet shiu’s when you tip your head up. to the best of his abilities, he’s sweetly talking you through it, his words jumbled although you manage to hear a few clearly.

“how ‘bout we all cum together?” he suggests, wiping a stray tear from your face with the pad of his thumb as if he wasn’t the one that caused it.

“whatever, just as long she does first,” toji warns, his husky voice carrying a tenderness that only you can hear. “got that, shiu?”

like a cheshire cat, he smiles in response, sticking the worn down cigarette between his lips. he takes a drag and thrusts as deeply as he can go before holding your head down at his pelvis. you can hear his quiet moan beneath the clapping of skin against skin and all the other noise; his cock shoots ribbons of white down your throat and he shudders when you swallow it all eagerly, looking up at him for more.

toji throbs against your cervix, and he grabs your asscheek in one of his hands to tug and slap at. “‘m gonna cum, shit . . . wouldn’t ever wanna cum outside of this pretty pussy.”

his fingers work your clit until you’re arching your back and crying out, gushing on toji’s cock with no end in sight. wetness sprays against his pelvis and abs, and he groans, fucking you through it.

“such a mess, doll,” he groans, slipping a hand around your throat and pulling you off shiu’s cock. he instead pins you against his muscular chest, looking over your shoulder through hooded eyes at shiu, who hasn’t gone soft yet. “fuckin’ love it, though.”

toji places a few wet kisses to your neck, moving close to your ear. “so, doll face? where’s lunch gonna be? shiu’s treat, of course.”

YUKI & CHOSO.

“c’mon, you don’t really plan to just sit and watch us, do you?” yuki pushes her blonde bangs away from her forehead with an enchanting smile playing on her lips. she playfully tilts her head to the side, eyeing choso and his seated form.

“well, i . . . you said you’d teach me,” he offers lamely, his reddened cheeks only darkening. he catches your eyes on him too and awkwardly crosses his legs, trying to hide the tent in his pants.

when you’d finally had enough of your boyfriend’s ineducable inexperience, you’d decided to bite the bullet and ask your best friend. yuki had been receptive from the start, her eyes gleaming while you’d explained the situation to a willing choso.

“oh, you won’t learn anything from over there,” she laughs, waving him over to the empty space beside her on the bed. “y’know, sex is pretty hands on.”

choso settles beside her, and the bedframe creaks as it accommodates the new weight. his fingers are trembling as they brush over the tender skin of your inner thighs, and his eyes widen when they come close to your dripping pussy. slick is smeared all over your skin and shining in the low light, utterly enticing to the both of them.

yuki spreads your legs further, and you draw in a sharp breath, lower lip slipping between your teeth.

“come closer,” she coos, pointing at your clit with a smirk. “that’s her clit . . . ‘s the secret to the female orgasm, choso. go on, give her a lick.”

without question, choso adjusts himself so he’s on his stomach, and he experimentally licks your clit. his silky tongue is flexed and nervous, dipping down further to taste the wetness trickling from your slit.

“f-fuck, choso,” you cry, insides lurching deliciously at the feeling. one look at yuki—her cheeks are colored pink, tongue unconsciously darting out occasionally to sweep over her lower lip—and another at choso, whose movements are gradually becoming more insistent, has a sweltering heat coiling deep in your stomach.

your hips jerk forward, pelvic bone nearly nailing him in the bridge of his nose, and choso’s head rears back in concern. “‘m sorry, are you—”

“our girl’s loving it,” yuki hisses, not even missing a beat as she cups the crown of his head, manicured nails digging into your boyfriend’s scalp as she forces his head back down. he doesn’t resist, letting out a muffled moan when his face lands directly in your pussy. slick smears across the lower half of his face and he feels the saliva pool on his tongue from how hungry he is.

choso’s nose bumps into your swollen clit, and a pitched whine tears from your throat. “need—i need more, please,” yuki settles onto her stomach beside choso, palm leaving his head. her fingers impatiently push past his chin, stroking lightly against your dripping pussy, and she quietly moans in delight.

you watch slack jawed as yuki pushes her fingers into her mouth, and her eyes squeeze shut. her hips grind against the bed, sheets rustling softly beneath her body. choso’s too caught up to notice, dark strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“cho—ah, shit—use your fingers, baby.”

your boyfriend obliges obediently, carefully pushing his fingers inside you and tugging back to let yuki take over with her mouth.

that heat inside you ignites into an inferno the second her mouth finds your clit. her lips lightly wrap around it and her tongue sweeps over the swollen bud; to tease you a little further, she lets her teeth occasionally nibble at it.

“this what you wanted?” choso pants, voice lilting curiously as his eyes rake over your body. he’s always been rather shameless when it comes to looking you over, but after this, he’ll finally be able to back it up with a hundred percent. the heave of your chest and parting of your bitten lips is enough of an answer, but he wants to hear it from you. his fingers curl inside you, pressing into a spot that scratches the unbearable itch in your brain perfectly.

“y-yes, cho!” and you’ve got stars in your eyes, feeling an unfamiliar pressure straining in your lower abdomen. “wanna—wanna cum on your face, please.”

“you heard her,” yuki quirks a brow, thumb working your clit in place of her tongue. she’s got a wildness in her eyes, with the lower half of her face sticky like choso’s. “let’s make our pretty girl cum together, hm?”

choso flushes all the way to his neck but nods, his two fingers pushing deeply over and over. a small sting accommodates the stretch, but is quickly forgotten when their faces push against one another’s in their rush for a taste. your slick is sweet like ambrosia, and they’re far too greedy to take turns with your cunt.

your clammy fingers push into yuki’s flowing tresses, while your other hand cups the crown of choso’s head and pushes him impossibly closer. her moans are softer than his as she finds your clit again, licking desperately, almost as if she’s begging you to cum.

meanwhile, choso places a hand above your pelvic bone, palm pressing into the soft skin—you’d mentioned that fingering wasn’t fingering without that small detail and he hasn’t forgotten it since—and it’s becoming difficult to breathe without panting. whiny moans fill the spaces in between your babbled words of bliss, and yuki knows that she won’t be able to get enough of you once this is over.

“ooh, fuck,” you sob, nearly choking on your words when your back uncontrollably arches off the bed. your fingers tighten in her hair and your nails scratch against choso’s scalp, making a mess of his once neatly tied buns. “yuki, ‘m so close, can’t hold it—”

she’d known what had been coming the moment you’d asked for choso’s fingers. she’s unable to stop herself from smiling against your clit, and choso’s tongue bumps into her own as he fights for a piece of you too. he’d initially been all for this so he could learn how to make you tick, what you really meant when you’d beg for his mouth.

his skin is hot as it pushes against hers, their cheeks puffing up a little as they fight for dominance over your clit. they’re shaking their heads all too much, and choso’s grunting while yuki does too, sending vibrations through your already sensitive clit. that pressure burns through your body, and your legs begin to tremble on either side of them as it grows more intense.

“hmph—cum for us, pretty girl.”

similarly, choso tugs away for a moment and lets out a huff, pressing down hard while his fingertips push into your sweet spot, “let us taste it, baby.”

their simple words do the trick, and with a gasp, your pussy begins to gush waterfalls right onto their faces. yuki eagerly slurps up the slick and cum from your cunt, with no regard for the way it’s still fluttering sensitively. choso barely gets a taste, only getting the tip of his tongue wet, and he pulls back with an annoyed scoff.

“yuki, that’s—”

“y-yuki!” you interrupt, voice breaking as you pathetically try to writhe away from her. with choso sitting back, she’s able to grab you by the hips and drag you close, insistently licking you through the dizzying high. “‘s too much, wait—choso!”

“yuki,” he scolds with a shake of his head, but makes no move to pull her away. honestly, if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to. “that’s no fair, i didn’t even get a taste. and she’s my girl.” choso’s words are pointed and a little whiny, and yuki just rolls her eyes.

“then come here ‘n try again. just look at her, she’s dying for more . . aren’t ya, pretty?”

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

vetted fundraisers from today. please please continue to share and donate if it's within your means. today alone has been one of the most brutal and deadly since the beginning of the genocide. we can't let our focus wander now.

july 9th:

The AlBalawi family of 11, including many children (one is very sick with hepatitis; all are suffering from malnutrition) and two chronically ill members who urgently need treatment (€11,441/€50,000) - @elbalawi, @yasminalbalawiigaza, @bisanalbalawi, verified by @/90-ghost

Amina Abu Hashem, her husband, and their four young children, one a newborn and one needing treatment for a gland disorder ($19,271/$100,000) - @ameinababa, verified by @/ibtisams

Arwa Afana, her husband Naji Hamam, their newborn daughter (needs urgent treatment for oxygen deficiency and heart problems caused by white phosphorus), and Arwa's chronically ill mother (€2,020/€30,000) - @arwaafana, verified by @/90-ghost

Sick toddler Yousef (needs lifesaving treatment for a dangerous blood condition) and his parents (€2,265/€25,000) - @dima96yousef, verified by @/90-ghost

Helping autistic 5-year-old Omar Jad Al-Haq recover after evacuation, and evacuating the remainder of the Jad Al-Haq family (including a member currently paralyzed from a stroke) (kr4,754 SEK/kr200,000 SEK) - @doaa-jad, verified by @/90-ghost

Mai Balousha, her husband Raed (injured and chronically ill), their four children, and the childrens' grandmother (€40/€52,000) - @nourbader2019, verified by @/90-ghost

The Ayyad family of eight, four of whom are children ($22,681/$35,000) - @aymanayyad82, @raghadayyad81, @mayadayyad81, @ahmedharara, #144 on @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein's spreadsheet

Tahani Shorbajee, her husband, their three children, and six other family members ($16,533/$50,000) - @tahanishorbaje2, verified by @/el-shab-hussein

Dina, her husband, and their three little children, one a newborn ($5,221 CAD/$20,000 CAD) - @dina179, verified by @/ibtisams

Safaa Abd, her husband, and their two little children (€4,630/€50,000) - @safaabed8, verified by @/90-ghost

The Al Azaiza family of six ($2,396 CAD/$48,000 CAD) - @isra-elazaiza, #236 on @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein's spreadsheet

Muhammad Atallah (needs urgent surgery after being shot with an explosive bullet) and his family of 12, including children and a newborn (€1,356/€82,000) - @mohammed-atallah, verified by @/90-ghost

Mohammed Al Manasra, his wife, and their three little children (Mohammed needs treatment for chronic respiratory illness) (€18,429/€40,000) - @save-mohammad-family, #192 on @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi's spreadsheet

Musab and his family (€155/€7,000) - @musababed, verified by @/90-ghost

Hanaa Jad Al-Haq, her husband Muhammad Hammad, and their little son Youssef (£1,249/£20,000) - @hanaajad123, verified by @/ibtisams

Mahmoud Al-Sharif, his wife (pregnant and urgently needs perinatal care), and their three children (Mahmoud also needs treatment to preserve his vision) ($524/$60,000) - @mahmoud-sharif, verified by @/90-ghost

Mohammed Alanqer, his wife Enas Majed, and their four children, one a newborn (€37,042/€38,000) - @mohammedalanqer, #174 on @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein's spreadsheet

Helping Siraj Abudayeh, his wife, and their three young children rebuild their destroyed home ($4,711 CAD/$82,000 CAD) - @siraj2024, #219 on @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi's spreadsheet

Munna Tashmali and her three children (this is the third time they've lost their house) (£1,766/£30,000) - @monashamali, verified by @/nabulsi

not yet vetted:

Reem, her husband, and their two young children (€1,955/€20,000) - @rem096

Eman Zaqout, her husband Mahmoud, and their two children (Eman is the recepient of a prestigious science fellowship and needs to travel abroad to participate) ($1,650 CAD/$40,000 CAD) - @emanzaqout

these families just want to live in safety. any contribution you can make, no matter its size, is one of hope for a brighter future

[crushmeeren]

Sex chocolate with Hawks, Dabi, Aizawa and maybe Toshinori???

⋆ ft. izuku ⋆

⋆ this is written as if the guys didn’t know they’d eaten the chocolate and how they’d react to the treat. sorry I didn’t put Toshinori in this, I’m not quite sure how to write his personality yet. (ó﹏ò｡)

𝛏 master list link 𝛏

// @emmab3mma hope you enjoy! ₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Izuku’s lips would tug into a sheepish smile, no doubt thankful for the sweet treat pick me up. His eyes would brighten, a satisfied hum dancing in the air.

Izuku would be unbearably jittery out on patrol that evening, hopping from the sidewalk on one side the street to the other, green light crackling in his wake. He’d do it mindlessly, thoughts wandering to you and what you currently could be doing.

Suddenly, he’d be flailing mid air when he vividly imagines you on your knees, plush lips stretched so wide on his cock he knows it must hurt your mouth. Izuku would stumble when he hit the concrete, catching himself on the bench nearby.

Izuku’s expression would twist from calm to horrified, thoughts running a mile a minute when he steadies himself and realizes his cock is…hard. Throbbing. Straining against his hero suit. He’d make haste running to the nearest building with a public restroom.

Izuku would shut the door to the restroom and lock it before anyone could even notice he entered. He’d be frantic, shoving his pants down mid thigh as he leaned against the wall and hissed through his teeth when the cool air hit his freely bobbing cock.

He’d have a million concerns in the back of his head but not be able to focus on a single one. Izuku would have a one track mind, wrapping a hand around himself and jerking until he came in less than 20 seconds to the image of you on your knees.

Izuku would be so embarrassed afterwards, cheeks bright pink as he adjusts his clothes and washes his hands.

Being as smart as he is, he’d have a suspicion this is related to the chocolate you gave him and he intends to find out once he’s home. Once he returned, he’d tease you until you’re on the edge of tears and blurting out the truth, fucking you until your mind whites out and you scream his name.

Lucky you.

Keigo would give you a flirty grin, winking playfully as he snatched the chocolate from you and swallowed it within two bites. You’d give him an unimpressed look but he’d just laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

Keigo isn’t surprised when he got a boner while soaring through the skies on the way to his agency. He’d been thinking about you anyways and his dick getting hard wasn’t uncommon when he thought of you. It’d be fair to say that happened often, if he’s honest.

Keigo would take note of the violent flush crawling down his neck and snaking under the fuzzy collar of his flight jacket. He’d suck his bottom lip in between his teeth and adjust his cock in his pants so it’s sticking straight up instead of outward.

He’d be able to somewhat focus on the business meeting he didn’t want to attend in the first place, only being reprimanded a few times more than normal for zoning out.

Keigo’s pulse would thunder. He’d wear a neutral expression, letting his chin rest in his propped up hand as he sent a feather to find and turn on the air because why the fuck is it so hot in here?

He’d text you something filthy as discreetly as he could under the table, biting his knuckles when you sent back a picture of yourself with your tits on display. Keigo would come to the conclusion that maybe he was a bit more pathetically horny than normal and he needed to ditch this meeting yesterday.

Keigo would go straight home, ignoring anyone who had tried to speak with him on his way out. He’d find you on the couch with nothing on but an oversized shirt and waving what’s left of the chocolate bar at him with a smirk when he entered through the balcony.

He wouldn’t even be upset when you told him what you’d done. He’d just crowd close, looming over you with a wolfish grin that shot a thrill down your spine.

Keigo would succumb to the aphrodisiac completely. He’d bend you over the backrest of the couch at hip level and wrench your arms taut behind you, fingers circling your wrists to secure you in place.

Keigo would have no mercy, sliding his cock in your tight pussy before you’re turned on enough to take him smoothly. He’d send a feather down to play with your clit until you strain to escape, not stopping despite your pleas because “this is what you wanted, isn’t it baby? yeah, so stop yapping and take it.”

In the end all you can do is nod, because if you truly wanted him to stop you’d only have to say the safe word.

Shouta would raise an eyebrow with a bored expression on his features. He’d roll his eyes and eat the chocolate after you pushed your lower lip out and fluttered your lashes at him.

Shouta’s a sucker for you.

He’d be grading papers that afternoon, knuckles rubbing at his sleepy eyes in the office of your shared home. He’d take a break, pressing his palms to his eyes and resting his elbows on the desk.

A scenario would pop into his head, one where you sat on the edge of the desk while he’d relax in his chair and lazily eat you out. He can imagine the way your clit would feel against his tongue, how warm and soft your pussy would be on his lips.

Shouta would lean back in the chair, a hand absently dropping to his lap to palm his cock and he’d be startled at just how much he’d filled out already. His dick hot and sticking to his inner thigh. Shocked at the unavoidable thick warmth swirling in his belly when it’d usually take a bit more than a brief daydream to get this worked up.

He’d be certain that you had something to do with this and irritation would lance through him. He’d sit in the kitchen once he’s finished, arms crossed and cock stubbornly refusing to flag until you returned home.

Shouta would ask you about it as if he were asking a child if they had stolen a cookie from the cookie jar. Easily, you admit to it. No hesitation, no shame, just a smug air about you.

Then, Shouta would make his fantasy a reality. He’d eat your pussy until you were right on the edge of cumming and then he’d stop. He’d speak condescendingly, saying “poor baby, your pussy just wants to cum doesn’t she?” as he sits you roughly down on his cock.

He’d spank you a few times, teasing you a bit more but he’d make you cum so intensely your toes would cramp — and then he’d keep going until his own brain got fuzzy.

Touya would say fuck no at first. He doesn’t like chocolate. Until you mention there’s something special about the sweet and he assumes it’s an edible. You don’t bother to correct him because, technically, it is an edible, just not the kind filled with weed.

Touya would be leaning his back against the railing on your balcony, angled so he can peer into the open doors of your living room. He’d have a cigarette dangling from his lips, scrubbing at his cheek with one hand because yeah, his cheeks are typically roasting but they’re never this hot.

He’d shrug it off and nonchalantly light up the cigarette with his pointer finger. He’d startle as the tiny flame bursts into a fireball that he really didn’t mean to create when you stride past the doorway in soft shorts that show the crease of where your thigh joins your ass.

You’d freeze mid step and turn to stare at him incredulously, lips parted slightly when the aftershock of heated air damn near singes your skin.

Touya would be flustered. Cheeks painted rosy pink with embarrassment at the lack of control over his quirk. He’d scowl harshly, pinching his brows together as he dropped and stomped on his cigarette to put it out. He’d stalk towards you and snarl “why the hell are you wearing those fucking shorts?” as if his sudden overbearing lust is your fault specifically.

You’d roll your eyes and begin walking in the direction you’d intended in the first place but Touya would snatch your wrist tight enough the bones grind together and drag you to your bedroom. He’d ignore your obviously fake bewildered expression and shove you onto the mattress. He can’t focus on the fact that you seem to be going along with this a bit too easily.

His cock would be jumping and pushing painfully against the zipper of his jeans before he so much as kissed you. He wouldn’t get either of you truly naked, he’d just slide your soft shorts to the side and unzip his jeans. He’d shove your shirt to your collarbone so he could watch the way your tits are about to bounce.

Touya would yank your ankles up and over his shoulders until the backs of your thighs press into his chest and then fold you in half like you’re a fucking blanket. He’d tilt his hips until his tip catches on your pussy and then he’s shoving his cock all the way inside to steal the breath from your lungs.

Touya wouldn’t have the self control to stop for a long time that evening and you’d almost regret giving him the chocolate. Almost.

[heartswithinreach]

Sitting on LaDS lap

Xavier

Physical contact is nothing new for you two. You trust Xavier with your life on the battlefield and when you're fighting the evening commute.

The train is packed on your way home after fighting Wanderers all day but Xavier doesn't notice until he sits down and realizes the person sitting next to him isn't his partner.

But before he can give up his seat for you, you're sitting across his lap and resting your head on his shoulder. He watches you settle, amused and flustered by your boldness to do something like this in public.

"I don't think this is allowed for safety." He says gently, not wanting to wake you. "But if you're that tired..."

Xavier holds you close, making sure you don't fall off his lap from the movement of the train, and peacefully dozes with you until you're home.

Rafayel

“You’re supposed to be my bodyguard — why aren’t I sitting on your lap?”

Rafayel pouts mostly for show and so he doesn’t come across as too eager. He’s barely holding back from squeezing you in a tight hug, he didn’t expect you to be so soft.

But he also didn’t expect what he said would make you self conscious. Rafayel quickly pulls you back down when you try to get off of him, wrapping his arms around your middle, making sure you stay put.

“Relax, cutie. I was just joking. You can stay for as long as you want.”

But he will expect you to return the favor whenever he wants in the future. Especially if it’s at an event and he wants to rub your relationship in other peoples’ faces.

Zayne

His reaction depends on where you are and what the situation is.

If you sit on his lap while waiting to be seated at a restaurant, he’ll be unimpressed by the PDA but allow it so you’re both not sore from standing.

In the privacy of his or your apartment, you’re welcome to do whatever you like.

Every time you come near him in the early evening while he’s reading a book, he secretly hopes you’ll curl up on his lap. Your warmth is just the balm he needs after his shift at the hospital.

Zayne always worries about his evol in the back of his mind. What if his body temperature is too low and being so close is unpleasant for you? The only thing that’ll stop him from fretting and relax is if you play with his hair.

Sylus

Your ass hasn’t touched an actual chair in this man’s presence since you made your relationship official.

The first time you tried, he stopped reading his intel to ask, “What are you doing all the way over there, sweetie?” and patted his thigh. It couldn’t have been more obvious what he wanted.

Won’t stand for any “I’m too heavy” nonsense. He’s genuinely offended when you say that. Have you seen his physique? He waits until you’ve decided to give it a shot and then he's manhandling you onto his lap.

Pavlov dogs you into this routine until one day you just sit on his lap, completely unprompted, and he gives you the most infuriating, self-satisfied grin when you realize what you’ve done.

He’s won this small victory and he won’t let you forget it.

[shrimpybbq]

so I was reading one of ur high school gf au posts and what about after a fun night with rafe and his back is all red and scratched up bc of ur night together and maybe some teasing rafe from the guys

“rafe wandering around the house with his shirt off, forgetting about the red scratch marks down his back - he just makes her feel so good she can't help it. he only smirks if anyone comments”

oh this is so yummy bc you know rafe is wandering around the pool, maybe a little bit drunk and the sun starts to come out. he just wants to feel the sun on his skin and so he takes his shirt off, only to hear whoops and hollers from kelce and topper. he’s so confused, which the boys understand from his expression, so topper decides to help him out a bit.

“good night, huh rafe?”

at that, rafe became even more confused. good night? it was just a normal night for him, wasn’t it? kelce takes the opportunity to join in, loving the opportunity to tease his friend for once.

“man, you look like you got attacked or some shit! bro, your back is raw,” he exclaims.

oh yeah, that’s what he was up to last night, rafe recalls to himself. so what he has a healthy sex life, he thinks. he makes his girl feel good, enough that she can’t contain herself. really, the scratch marks are the tame side. usually, he prefers her to bite into his shoulder if she can’t take it, loving the way she clings to him like a lifeline as she cums, but she still seems to enjoy dragging her nails down his back more often than not.

“haha, very funny. you losers are just jealous because you’re not getting any, huh?” rafe retorted. he couldn’t hide the smirk on his face, always pleased to know how good he made his girl feel. the smug grin he was known for shone brightly to his friends.

“oh i’m getting some, but you - i see why you’ve got two kids man, you’re giving it to her good!” kelce continued, his tone growing more sleazy as he looked to gain a bigger reaction out of rafe, “you fuck her like a whore all the time or what man? she’s scratchi-”

rafe saw topper turn to kelce, trying to intervene before rafe could wreak havoc but he was too late. rafe had crossed over to where kelce sat, gripping the chain around his neck tightly. he was face to face with the younger boy now, furious gaze boring into his skull.

“you keep your fuckin’ mouth shut, ok kelce? you don’t talk about her like that or you’re gonna be running home to your mom with a broken fucking jaw,” rafe spat, his voice low and filled with unbridled contempt, “you understand?”

“yeah shit man, sorry. my bad, i won’t do it again.”

“good,” rafe said, delivering a mocking pat to kelce’s cheek as he returned to stand. he faced the pool for a moment before diving in, the refreshing water soothing his anger. as he was underwater, topper shot kelce a look - everyone knew not to talk about rafe’s girl like that, and now, kelce had been reminded exactly why. as kelce shot back a confused look, topper could only slump back on his recliner, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth. rafe was a lover boy at heart, but he was still hot headed and dangerous when he wanted to be - and today they were reminded of that.

I got a bit carried away with this but I hope you like it! Rafe is such a simp and he wouldn’t stand for anyone, even his friends, badmouthing his girl.

[pseudowho]

"Oi mate! This one yours?"

Kento faltered, an exasperated half-smile on his lips as he took you in, one hand on his hip and the other clutching his lower face. You swayed, completely smashed and giggling to yourself, on the bouncer's seat outside the club. The crowds bustled around you, heading home, somewhere between morning and night.

The bouncer looked peeved at your constant mild mockery of him, laughing to yourself with messy hair, a wonky dress, your heels in your hand, and bubbling over with ginrumtequilasoursshots. Kento sighed to himself, his resignation sparking with affectionate humour.

"Yes. Yes, that one is...mine."

Your ears piqued to hear Kento, a genuine grin splashing over your bleary-eyed face. You threw your arms into the air, the bouncer flinching away from you.

"Kento! Uppies!"

"Don't be ridiculou-- not giving you uppies--"

Your face crumpled, all innocent disappointment, and it shot Kento through with knives. A faint blush smattered across high, tight cheekbones, his face otherwise the picture of cool impassivity.

"...fine. Uppies. Just this once."

With a gigglesnort, your head swooped as you allowed Kento to lift you effortlessly onto his back, and sighed deeply into the heat of him, his enormous hands cupping your arse and hips. You felt yourself swayed half to sleep by his steady steps, the cool smell of night air on tarmac, and the sounds of the club fading into the distance behind you.

"...Kento?"

"Hmmm?" You bit your lip at the rumble of his back against your body. You replied, saccharine.

"...love you, Kento. Thanks...thanks for picking me up."

Another rumble, dismissive. "I love you. As if I wouldn't pick you up."

"...some boyfriends wouldn't pick me up--"

"When was I ever 'some boyfriends'?"

You bit into his shoulder, squirming against his back as he tensed. You fizzled, every nerve alight with liquor and want. Kento was silent for a moment, still walking in and out of streetlight shadow, in, out, in, out...

"...besides, I'm your husband."

You gasped, your head swimming with drink and surprise. "Oh yeah! Oh wow...my husband...yeah."

Kento scoffed, used to this. He felt your hands trail over his chest as he pressed you into the back seat of the car, strapping you in. He knew better than to put you and your drunk, wandering hands into the passenger seat.

You barely blinked, snoring in the back seat, before you awoke with a jolt and a squeak, being carried into the house. Kento juggled keys, and the car blip-blipped behind him as he fumbled the door open, kicking it closed behind him.

"Hey, Kento..." you whispered, loudly, as if bestowing a great secret, "...I think...we should go to bed..."

"Ah, yes. Definitely."

"...yeah?" You flirted, not as sly and seductive as you thought. Kento's nose grazed yours, his voice lowering a decibel. He laid you back on the bed, and crawled over you, strong arms bracketing you in as he spoke.

"...first...I'll undress you, nice and slow."

You squirmed, giggling beneath his forehead kisses, and he continued.

"...then, I'll get something more...comfortable, out of your wardrobe."

You bit the back of your hand, wiggling beneath him as his twinkling eyes drank you in.

"And then...I'll get you all dressed up."

You were on fire, alight with promise, and groped shamelessly at Kento's biceps as he chuckled.

"...and I'll take off all your make-up, and put you in your ugliest pyjamas, and brush your teeth, and put you to bed. With a glass of water and some pain relief on the nightstand."

You slapped his chest in a half-genuine sob, devastated, certain you'd managed to seduce him this time.

"Nooo, Kentoooo...please please please fuck me--"

"Absolutely not."

"But why not?!"

"Behave yourself."

"Don't you want me?"

"--looking like a sloppy Tanuki? No, my darling--"

"Hate you."

A quiet rumble, a laugh as he made his promise come true, stripping you naked just to dress you again. Brushing your teeth. Cleaning your face, and moisturising it. Rolling you into bed, more wine than woman.

You managed just a few more incoherent noises of complaint...before soft snores filled your bedroom. Kento huffed, chuckling to himself as he got ready for bed.

One night, you convinced yourself as you dipped into sleep, you may manage to seduce him while drunk. Tonight was not that night. Nor the next night. Not the next night. Nor the next night--

[sincerelyneo]

diet pepsi | n.jm

“losing all my innocence in the back seat”

📀now playing: diet pepsi by addison rae

❯ summary: Jeno has one rule — his little sister is not allowed at street races. Jaemin knows this, and still, he can’t help but feel a thrill when he spots you sneaking out to watch him race. That is, until he sees you with another guy, and suddenly, he’s all in favor of Jeno’s rule. And he’s pretty sure that rule also means he should intervene and give you a ride home.

❯ pairings: jaemin x virgin fem!reader

❯ genre: brother’s best friend, smut, racing!au

❯ words: 5.6k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, arguing, jealously, pet names, car sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering, virginity loss, slight corruption kink, bit of angst, ‘daddy’ mentioned once but not in a kink way?, jaemin is lowkey a dramatic asshole in the first half, mention of marking, reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just a jealous brother’s best friend trope because it eats every time

Jaemin’s blood runs cold when he sees you—wait, what are you even doing here?

He’s never been so tense in the driver’s seat before. He’s usually all calm and controlled, razor-focused on the track, with only one thing on his mind: winning. And he’s pretty damn good at it. But today, he can’t seem to focus. Not with you—Jeno’s little sister—standing right there on the sidelines, sticking out like a beacon in a crowd of rowdy onlookers.

So out of place, timid and awkward. Normally, he’d find it cute if he wasn’t so pissed that you’re even here. You don’t belong among his reckless racer friends, the ones with wandering eyes; and the girls with short skirts, heavy perfume, and sharp eyeliner.

He’s never been this distracted at the starting line before, never found anything particularly interesting to gaze at through his freshly cleaned windshield. But there you are. 

Ripped blue jeans clinging to every curve that he’s spent years thinking about—too many nights with his hand wrapped around his cock, imagining how his fingers would mold and print into the soft flesh of your skin. And those cherry-red lips—they make pride swell in his chest, a small thrill from knowing he’s the only racer here with a red car. It’s probably just a coincidence, but Jaemin lets the possessive part of his mind take over, because he wants nothing more than to see that red smeared around your cheeks as he kisses you—wants it to stain him like a claim.

God, what’s he even thinking?

You’re his best friend’s little sister. Off-limits.

Speaking of which, why are you here? Jeno’s not racing tonight, and he’d kill you if he found out. Actually, Jeno would kill him, even though Jaemin had no idea you’d even show up. Jeno hated you being at the races on a good day, let alone when he wasn’t here to keep an eye on things.

And maybe that’s why, for the first time, Jaemin’s gaze drifts to his side mirror as he speeds off. Because Jeno’s not here to watch over you—so he has to. Yeah, that’s it. It’s for Jeno’s sake. Definitely not because he’s worried about you. And definitely not because he likes the way your cherry-red lips part in a cheer—a cheer he likes to imagine is all for him.

Who’s he kidding? Jaemin loves knowing you’re here, watching him race. Honestly, it’s the biggest rush he’s ever felt—the purest shot of adrenaline—and he’s never pushed this hard on the track. But right now, he only wants to win for you.

And he does, slamming on the brakes, coming to a screeching halt the second he crosses the finish line. A few friends clap him on the back as he gets out of his car, congratulating him, but he doesn’t care about them. He only wants you—to hear you say he did great, to see that proud look in your eyes. He wants you to beg him not to yell at you for sneaking in tonight… or worse, promise he won’t tell Jeno.

Except, Jaemin’s not so sure he can negotiate on the “no yelling” part of that deal. Not when he spots you in the crowd, looking up at Jisung. Jisung, who’s got your attention on him instead of his win. Jisung, who’s making you laugh—and Jaemin knows he’s not that funny. Jisung, who’s handing you a can of Diet Pepsi—and you’re just taking it, smiling at him with those red lips, lips that don’t belong to him. 

Jaemin knows Jisung doesn’t have a bad bone in his body—Christ, the guy wouldn’t hurt a fly, and he’s one of his racer friends. Still, he doesn’t like the way you lean in when you laugh or how you’re looking up at him with pretty eyelashes fluttering. It makes something stir in him, something sharp and possessive. Without thinking, he storms over, snatching the damn can from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours in the process.

You gasp, the sound almost too soft, "Woah, Jaem–"

"What are you doing here, Y/N?

You stumble back, heart skipping in your chest. He’s looking at you like he’s about to devour you whole. Gaze locked with yours, primal and urgent, scanning you with a heat that makes your breath hitch, throat going suddenly dry. You came here to see him—no one else. But the way his eyes are on you now...you don’t know whether telling him that would be a good idea. 

You swallow hard, feeling small beneath the weight of his stare. “I—uh, I—I’m just… here to watch,” you mumble. "I didn’t think it’d be a big deal..."

Jaemin doesn’t respond right away, his eyes narrowing as they flick over you, then over to Jisung, then back to you. "Alone?" he finally asks. "You just showed up here by yourself?"

“Well yeah–I didn’t think anyone would mind..."

"Jeno’s gonna fucking kill you when he hears about this," he mutters exhaling sharply, the tension in his jaw is visible as he crosses his arms. "You know he doesn’t like you being here.” His eyes flicker to Jisung for a moment before they shift back to you, a little colder. "And I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to know you’re accepting drinks from other racers, huh?”

Your brow furrows, a tinge of annoyance creeping in. "It’s just a can of Diet Pepsi, it’s not—"

Jaemin cuts you off. "It doesn’t matter what it is," he snaps. "What matters is that you’re here, without telling anyone where you were going. Without Jeno knowing." He shakes his head in disbelief. 

You scoff. "I’m an adult, Jaemin. Jeno’s not my keeper, and neither are you–"

Jaemin’s jaw tightens, and something flickers in his eyes—something dark. But just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone. "That’s not the point, Y/N," he growls, his voice lowering. "The point is you’re here, at a street race, by yourself. You think that’s smart? You think that’s safe?" He takes a step closer.  "What if something happened to you?" 

"I’m fine, Jaemin. I can take care of myself, okay?" Your voice cracks, frustration spilling out, but the sound doesn’t make Jaemin soften like it usually would.

He steps even closer, towering over you, his presence dominating, and you can feel his breath on your face, hot and quick. “This—this shit—" he gestures around to the crowd, the cars, the racers that surround you both, "this is not safe for you. You shouldn’t be here."

Your hands curl into fists at your sides, jaw set as you refuse to back down. "Why? You and Jeno come here every other weekend?” What’s the big deal?" 

"The big deal, Y/N, is that you're a pretty girl, surrounded by a bunch of horny assholes who'd love nothing more than to corrupt a sweet little thing like you."

Your breath catches in your throat, and your mouth goes dry as his words hit you like a punch. You blink, trying to process, but the anger in his eyes is enough to make your pulse quicken. Jaemin must realize what he’s said because there's a brief moment of hesitation. He clears his throat, trying to regain control.

"And you never told anyone," he tries to add, his voice a little less steady now, "And you're letting random guys buy you drinks—"

"I already told you. It was just a Diet Pepsi, Jaemin. You’re blowing this way out of proportion!" You cut him off. 

You don’t even know what you’re arguing about anymore— and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t either—it’s like he’s mad for the sake of being mad, the two of you going around in circles.

And frankly, you're tired of it. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You’ve always had a thing for Jaemin, and now was supposed to be your chance—your shot to make him see you as more than just Jeno’s little sister. You knew he’d be distracted with the race, but you thought if you showed up, maybe he’d finally notice you, really see you. But instead, he’s making it perfectly clear that you’ll never be anything more than that girl he feels the need to protect.

“Stop treating me like a child, Jaemin,” you sigh. “I’m not some fragile little girl who needs you to babysit her." 

You turn on your heel, ready to walk away from him, but before you can take more than a few steps, Jaemin’s hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"No. We’re not done talking."

He steps forward again, grip on your limbs tight but not painful, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s pulling you toward the exit, the sound of your shoes hitting the pavement is far too loud in the heavy silence that’s settled. 

"Jaemin, wait!" You tug against him, stumbling slightly, trying to free your wrist from his grasp. "I’m not going anywhere with you. I told you, I don’t need you babysitting me—"

"I’m not asking." His voice is low and final. "You’re going home, and you’re going with me."

"Let go of me!" You hiss, still trying to yank free, but he just tightens his grip, pulling you with him as if you’re a ragdoll.

Jaemin finally stops, turning to face you, his eyes sharp with frustration. He growls at your protesting, stepping into your personal space. "I’m taking you home, Y/N. Don’t argue with me."

You stare up at him, chest heaving with anger and something else—something you don’t want to admit to yourself. "You’re insufferable," you mutter, but it’s weak. 

You know you’re defeated. There’s no point in fighting him anymore. His presence is suffocating, overwhelming, and every fibre of your body knows he’s not going to let this go until he’s got you back home. You have no choice but to comply really. And you groan whilst slipping into the passenger seat of his car, imagining the story he’s going to muster up for your brother. 

Jaemin gets into the driver’s seat, his body tense and irritated, and you almost feel bad that he can’t celebrate his win—almost. He places the can of Diet Pepsi in the cup holder, the soft clink of the can echoing through the car. Then, without breaking his focus, his gaze flicks to you, his voice low and commanding.

“Seatbelt.”

You huff, rolling your eyes as you slide it on. “Yes, daddy.” 

The moment the words leave your mouth, Jaemin’s jaw tightens, the muscle flexing under his skin. His eyes darken for a split second, a dangerous glint flashing, something that makes your pulse stutter for just a moment. His fingers curl around the steering wheel, gripping it a little tighter than necessary as he tries to compose himself.

He clears his throat, shifting slightly in his seat, nostrils flaring. “Don’t push your luck, Y/N.”

You sink into your seat with a sigh. The silence in the car hangs as he drives, thick with awkwardness and annoyance. Your throat still feels dry from the argument, and before you can even think about it, you reach for the can. The cold metal soothes your fingertips. But the second your lips brush against the rim, you can feel Jaemin’s eyes on you—hot, intense, and focused.

You can feel him watch your every move, and as you pull the drink away from your lips, his eyes narrow in on the red stain your lipstick left on the silver rim. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, jaw tightening with it, his gaze flickering between your lips and the can in your hand. Without warning, he snatches it from your fingers, one hand still on the wheel, eyes focused and full.

Then, Jaemin presses his own lips against the spot where yours just were, right over the mark you left. Sipping the drink slowly — savouring it.

“What the hell are you doing?” you ask, voice a little breathless, startled.

Jaemin’s eyes widen, and for a split second, his grip tightens on the can before he abruptly pulls it away from his mouth, tossing it into the cup holder without a second glance. His brows furrow as he tries to make sense of his own actions, as if he’s suddenly aware of how ridiculous he must look. His mind is reeling—over a simple lipstick mark on the rim of a can. Something so innocent, yet it’s driving him crazy.

He clears his throat, trying to regain an ounce of composure, but his voice cracks slightly. "I was, uh..." He hesitates, biting back a sharp breath, his eyes flickering to the road before snapping back to you. "Just making sure it wasn’t spiked…?"

It sounds weak, even to his own ears, and he knows you’re not buying it. The way your lips part tells him everything. You narrow your eyes at him, a little too sharp for comfort. 

“Spiked?” You glance at the cup holder, where the can now sits innocently. “How would you even know from the taste, Jaemin? Not to mention Jisung gave me this, that boy wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Jaemin knows that. Still, he curses under his breath, running a hand through his hair as the frustration builds in his chest. His entire excuse is a mess, just like the thoughts spinning in his head.

"Look, let’s call it precautionary, okay?" His voice is clipped and there’s a tightness to it. "Don’t make it a big deal."

You lean back in the seat, a small bitter laugh escaping you. “Me making things a big deal? Oh, the irony.”

He doesn’t respond or bite back or try for the final word and it makes the silence thicker. Jaemin’s grip on the wheel is so tight his knuckles are white, and honestly, you don’t know how long you can keep doing this.

“You're impossible, you know that?" The words slip out before you can stop them, and your chest tightens as soon as they do. "I didn't come here for you to babysit me or make me feel like I need your protection. I came here because I—" You stop yourself. 

Jaemin's head snaps to you, "Because you what?" 

For a second, you can’t speak. The words are right there, but they feel too big, too much to let out. You’re caught between the urge to spill it all or keeping it hidden, scared to change the dynamic. But you’ve been pretending for too long, playing by the rules, and now, you want to stop hiding.

“I came here because I wanted you to see me,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “Not as Jeno’s little sister. Not as some kid. I wanted you to see me… as me.”

Jaemin doesn’t react, not at first ��� well, he does, but it’s subtle. His hands go completely white around the wheel, his jaw clenched so tight you can almost hear it. Without saying a word, he pops the indicator on and pulls over, the tyres screeching slightly as he brings the car to a sudden stop.

You freeze, and a small wave of panic bubbles up inside your chest. Did you say the wrong thing? Did you make it weird? He’s your brother’s best friend, and now you’ve crossed that weird line that’s bound to make everything awkward. Jeno’s gonna kill you.

You swallow hard, waiting for him to snap, to tell you how messed up this whole thing is.

But he kisses you. 

His hand on your cheek, without warning, pulling you into him, and consuming your lips with a force that steals the air from your lungs. It’s not gentle like you expected him to be. He’s typically always gentle with you — unless he’s mad, which right now, he is. This kiss is desperate. Hungry. And you like it because it’s the kind of kiss that makes your body forget how to breathe. The kind of kiss that tells you he doesn’t see you like a kid – like Jneo’s little sister.

“You drive me fucking insane, you know that?” Jaemin growls, nudging your noses together. His hands find your waist, to grip it. “You walk around in those jeans clinging to your ass, with your cheeks flushed, and that fucking lipstick the same shade as my car.”

You giggle softly against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You noticed?”

“Of course I fucking noticed,” he groans.

Jaemin’s lips trail down your jawline, each kiss slow, and teasing, and needy. The desperation in his movements is evident like he’s trying to savour every inch of your skin. The feeling is foreign to you—each soft press of his lips sends a rush of heat through your body. The simple touches make you gasp, drawing a low, satisfied groan from him as he feels the reaction in your body.

His breath catches, lips brushing softly along the sensitive curve of your neck as he pulls you closer. His hands tighten around your waist, and the pleading in his voice intensifies, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in it. He’s holding back, trying to keep his composure.

“Tell me this is a bad idea, Y/N,” he whispers, his lips grazing your skin with kisses. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

Your breath is shallow and you can’t help the way your body reacts to him. The way your hands find their way into his hair, fingers threading through it as you desperately tug on it, unsure of what else to do. 

“Please, angel, you have to say no,” he murmurs into your neck, his voice low and desperate. 

“Don’t want to,” you whimper, shaking your head again. “Want you, Jaem. Always wanted you. Only you.”

"Fuck..." he groans, his lips trailing away from your skin to look at you.

And what a pretty sight you are. Eyes glazed with lust, pupils blown wide, dilated with something raw and needy. So innocent, so forgiving, so eager – so fucking his. It’s enough to make him painfully hard, though he was already straining. Hearing you say you've always wanted him – and only him – had already sent a rush of heat straight to his cock.

Jaemin can’t help himself. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek again, his thumb teasing the softness of your bottom lip. You gasp, and his pupils darken, fixating on the way your mouth parts, the red colour staining his thumb. It’s everything he’s ever dreamed of—a perfect fantasy. 

“You’re gonna get me in so much trouble, gorgeous.”

He’s still hesitating, and you can feel it — you fucking hate it. Something takes over you, and without thinking, you take his thumb into your mouth, deep, sucking hard. Jaemin practically growls, his lips parting as a hiss escapes him from the sight. 

A switch flips, and in one smooth, deliberate motion, he yanks his thumb from your mouth, kills the engine, and climbs into the backseat. His eyes are sharp as they focus on you, which tells you to follow suit. He doesn’t care that on paper this is a ‘bad idea’. His cock is telling him it’s the best one he’s ever had.

It’s clear the moment you climb into the backseat, the way his body shifts into something animalistic. You try to settle beside him, but Jaemin doesn’t let that happen. He grips the hem of your shirt, yanking you down and onto his lap. The heat from his body radiates through the thin fabric of your clothes, his chest pressing hard against yours as his hands slide possessively around your waist.

His hands roam down your back and you can feel the hard press of him against your ass. It makes your pulse spike and your sweet red lips fall open for him, making him smirk with pride. His lips trail down to your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he murmurs your name, low and rough.

It’s all-consuming. Hot and desperate. Panting and breathless. Bodies moving in sync. The car heats up from your bodies softly grinding against each other. His hands are everywhere. 

“Angel,” he growls, his voice low with restraint, “if you keep grinding on me like that, I won’t be able to stop.”

You bite your lip, keeping your rhythm steady, your hips pressing into his. “Good.”

Jaemin catches a hand around your jaw pulling you away from his lips. “I’m serious, Y/N. Are you sure you want this?”

You nod, your gaze heavy with need.

He shakes his head, “I need words, gorgeous.”

“I want this.”

Such a simple phrase shatters his restraint, unravelling him completely. With a growl, he tosses you onto the back seat, lips trailing hotly down your body until he’s between your legs. His fingertips graze the waistband of your jeans, and he leans in, voice a low whisper.

“Can I?”

You nod, but he shakes his head, his eyes dark with hunger. “Say it.”

“Yes...” You breathe, the word barely escaping your lips, but it’s all he needs.

The jeans slide down your hips and ass, past your thighs, until they’re bunched around your ankles. Jaemin’s eyes flicker down, landing on your panties—darkened with dampness.

"So wet from just a little grinding?" He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "So fucking cute."

A rush of heat floods your chest. You’ve never done this before. And suddenly, it’s all too much, too fast. His words, your own desperate need, the car, the argument... everything crashes together. Without thinking, you press your legs closed, embarrassed by your body's reaction.

Jaemin's brows furrow as he watches you closely. "You okay?"

Your cheeks burn with a blush, stuttering as you struggle to find your voice. "I-I-uh," you falter, hoping he’ll say it, ask you the question. But he doesn’t. His eyes are fixed on your mouth, waiting for you to say it.

"I’ve never done this before."

Jaemin’s eyes flicker with something dark before he hums lowly. “You still want this?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

“Words, Y/N.”

“God—yes.”

A satisfied smirk curves on his lips. “Good,” he murmurs. “Your body’s a fucking work of art I’ve been dying to see, and I never want you to feel embarrassed about showing it to me—and only me, yeah?”

This time, you don’t nod. You meet his gaze, voice steady as you tell him, “Yes. Only you.”

He smiles, hands resting on your knees as he gently eases them apart, his gaze fixed on you, completely mesmerized. If someone had told him this was how he’d be celebrating his win tonight, he’d have laughed in disbelief.

But now, his knuckles brush over the front of your underwear, a feather-light touch that sends a spark through you. Your hips react on their own, bucking slightly as his fingertips tease your sensitive nerves through the thin damp fabric.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

He drags his fingers to your waistband, sneaking underneath to run a soft finger up your slit, drawing a gasp from your lips. He takes that as permission to slip the pair down your legs, meeting the same fate as your jeans somewhere in his car. 

Jaemin keeps his eyes dead set on you as his fingers work to find your clit. The moment he does, he starts working slow, taunting patterns against it, each movement deliberate and unhurried. The sensation is leg-numbing, sending waves of pleasure through you—so much better than when you do it yourself. 

“Tell me how it feels,” he demands, “I wanna know how I’m making you feel. Tell me.”

Your mind is spinning, words slipping through your grasp, and all you can manage is a choked, incoherent moan. It’s not enough for him. Dissatisfied, he sinks his middle finger into your pussy at your silence. You jolt at the intrusion, the feeling intense and foreign, but his eyes stay locked on you, waiting.

“Tell me,” he groans, relishing in the feeling of how tight you grip around his finger.

“F-feels good,” you manage to stammer.

“Yeah?” he taunts, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he slowly picks up the pace. “Want more?”

“Yes–” you nod eagerly. He wastes no time, slipping his ring finger inside to join the first, matching the rhythm, savouring the warmth encapsulating around him, and you unravel beneath him.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes, breaths shallow and quick, completely undone from the tortuous pace of his fingers. Jaemin’s expression softens as he takes you in, a quiet, satisfied coo slipping from his lips.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, “So sweet… so vulnerable just for me.”

A low chuckle escapes him as he feels your walls threatening to tense, wanting to flutter around his fingers, and it sends another wave of pride through him. He shifts his eyes down, and without hesitation, takes your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue in slow, devastating circles.

If he’s going to make you cum for the first time, it’ll be on his fingers and his mouth—he’ll make sure of it.

“S-so good, Jaem—” you gasp, voice trembling as his mouth and fingers work in perfect sync, pushing you closer to the edge.

He hums against you, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through your body. “Yeah?” he murmurs, lips still pressed to your skin. “Gonna let go for me, huh? Let me feel it.”

His words, his touch—it’s all too much, and you can feel every nerve on fire as he coaxes you over the edge until you’re cumming from the steady rhythm of his fingers and the relentless, teasing laps of his tongue. You're a shuddering mess beneath him from the orgasm he’s given you. 

He fucking loves it, looking in complete awe.

As you start to come down, muffled whines still slip from your lips, riding out the aftershocks of your release.

“What is it?” he prods, his voice smooth but persistent, but all you can manage is a frustrated sigh, annoyed with his stupid teasing tone. “Angel..I don’t know what you want if you don’t tell me.”

"All I want is—" You gasp when he lightly brushes your sensitive clit again,"—your cock."

A smug smirk tugs at his lips. His hand slides to rest possessively on your hip as he moves to hover above you, his gaze locking with yours.

“Are you sure?”

You nod, your lashes fluttering with need, and he takes that as permission to rid himself of his pants, his hand wrapping firmly around the base of his cock. He positions himself carefully, just at the edge of your pussy. 

It’s not how you’d pictured your first time—definitely not the romantic, cute scenario you’d always fantasized about. But one thing was certain: Jaemin was here, and that’s all that really mattered. Though, you hadn’t expected him to be this… big.

He picks up on the hesitation in your eyes, sensing the tension coiling tight in your chest.

With deliberate slowness, he slides his length teasingly between your drenched folds, making your breath catch as your nerves tense.

“I’ll take it slow,” he pulls down to murmur against your lips. 

You nod, your lip caught between your teeth, biting down hard enough to taste the metallic tang as he presses his tip against your cunt. His other hand grips your hip, his fingers digging in as he applies pressure, holding you in place. He stays perched above you, eyes fixed on your face. 

"Keep looking at me," he says, watching the way your face squirms. "Please."

His begging has you fighting to keep your eyes from fluttering shut, staying locked on him as you watch the way his pink lips part, the way they twitch, holding back a moan when he inches forward just enough to feel his tip slip past the threshold.

He pushes forward in a slow, savouring motion, and when he finally sinks into you completely, you stretch around him. Your brows furrow, caught between the sting of pain and the rush of pleasure. His teeth catch his lower lip, holding it there as a low, skin-tingling moan rumbles deep in his chest, his body staying still, giving you a moment to adjust.

“Please move,” you beg, barely able to get the words out, desperation lacing your voice.

He struggles to keep his breathing steady as he watches your face, studying it for any sign of discomfort. Once he’s sure you’re fine, he begins to draw his hips back slowly, his movements deliberate and deep, wrecking you as he rolls his hips forward, filling you again.

Your eyes want to flutter shut, the bliss almost too much to keep conscious but you want to please him. Jaemin pulls you closer, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss, and you moan into it, the sound pulling a breathless, stomach-knotting whine from him.

He increases his pace, and you cry out, your head falling back as your hips begin to meet his. One of Jaemin’s hands tightens around the side of your waist, grounding you as he drives deeper, faster, harder — greedy. 

You move feverishly, hips bucking wildly as you try to take him deeper, craving the way his cock stretches you, hitting every nerve with overwhelming pleasure.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he gasps. "Keep looking at me. I wanna see how pretty you look when I’m making you feel good."

You can only respond with a breathless gasp that catches in your throat as he buries himself deeper, rolling against you whilst your nails dig into the fabric on his shoulders.

His hand slips from your hip for a moment, reaching for your fingers to guide them down where your bodies are connected. His fingers curl around yours, bringing your hand to your throbbing clit. You take the hint, fingers moving instinctively to find the sensitive bundle, desperate to ease the tightness building in your abdomen.

"Not gonna last long, angel," he breathes, his voice ragged. "But I need you to feel good."

"Fuck," you whimper. Your hips begin to writhe, chasing the pleasure as every part of your body burns with need.

“So fucking warm and wet and tight,” he groans, forehead slick with sweat. 

Your bodies feel like they’re burning, the car steaming up with heat, the windows fogging so thickly that you leave a handprint on the glass as you steady yourself against Jaemin’s building deliberate thrusts. 

He’s fucking into you with an erotic urgency, as if he’s trying to spill out every fantasy he’s ever had about you since Jeno introduced you. It’s like he’s remembering, all at once, that he’s broken all the rules—off-limits, bro code—and he doesn’t care anymore. Doesn’t regret it one bit. Because the feel of you on his cock is totally worth it.

Your stomach starts to tremble as warmth floods your lower half, your muscles contracting and fluttering around him. The feeling overwhelms you, and it only encourages him to slow his rhythm, to drag out your orgasm as long as possible. 

Jaemin finally caves, moving his face to nuzzle against you. Your hands find his hair, tugging him up so you can kiss along his neck, your lipstick staining his flesh, marking him with that signature red colour.

You keep your hips rolling with his, even after the earth-shattering orgasm he’s just given you. Every cry, whimper, and moan spills from the back of your throat at the force of him, your voice chanting his name in a string of desperate mumbles. Your body convulses and shakes as you clamp around his length, and he grunts at the feeling, whispering praises to coax you through it.

He snaps his hips upward, grinding his body against you to savour the feeling. His muscles begin to shudder, jolting as he gasps for air, his own orgasm hitting him hard.

Hearing and feeling him lost in so much bliss only stretches the aftershocks of your release, both of you a mess of limbs and shameless sounds. Then, you feel him still completely, his release erupting in warm spurts, filling you and making you feel full of him. He’s everywhere—his scent, his kisses, his cum.

You’re left utterly spent, like a limp puddle, but Jaemin stays closely intertwined with you. You both inhale ragged breaths, neither of you daring to break apart. You’re reduced to fluttering glances weak panting and slick skin.

Jaemin’s eyes shift toward the side window, his fingers gently combing through your hair before he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

And when he finally tries to move, there's a sudden clink, and the faint sound of liquid splashing. You both glance down at the Diet Pepsi can now toppled over and spilling its contents all over the car seat. A muffled chuckle escapes Jaemin's lips as he shakes his head.

“That stupid fucking drink,” he mutters with a grin. 

“You should be grateful,” you hum, “Without it, we probably would never have fucked.”

Jaemin shakes his head and laughs, but the humour quickly fades as his expression turns serious. He leans in close again, his lips brushing yours. 

“Not true,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted you ever since I met you. I would’ve made a move eventually.”

“Oh yeah?” You tilt your head, teasing him. “What’s been stopping you?”

“Jeno,” Jaemin says quietly, and it’s like it hits you both at once.

Your stomach twists in knots, the mention of your brother, Jaemin’s best friend, suddenly making everything feel... wrong. 

“What are we gonna tell Jeno?”

[starsenha]

HALLOWEEN NIGHT / L.H

Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x harddom!heeseung

Genre ◊ SMUT, established relationship

Warnings ◊ SMUT (minors dni), kinda roleplay, chocking, lots of cursing, degradation, fingering, lots and lots of dirty talk, bigdick!hee, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, against a wall

Word count ◊ 5,2k

Summary ◊ it was halloween and you decided to stay home with your boyfriend. you thought it would be a quiet movie night, until you were talking and you told him serial killers kinda turn you on.

a/n: 😀😀 hee has me on a chokehold recently sooooooo, enjoy!

It was a chilly Halloween night, and you and your boyfriend Heeseung had decided to spend it in the cozy warmth of your apartment. While the rest of the world was out attending costume parties, trick-or-treating, or watching horror movies, you both opted for a more intimate and relaxed night in. Candles flickered around the living room, and the scent of pumpkin-spice lattes hung in the air. The windows were cracked open just enough to let the cool breeze sneak in, adding to the autumnal ambiance. You sat across from each other on the couch, your legs curled under a thick blanket as you sipped on wine, engaged in casual conversation. 

But tonight, the conversation had taken an unexpected turn.

You had always been open with Heeseung, never hiding your thoughts or desires. Tonight was no exception. As the topic wandered from one thing to another, you finally admitted something you’d kept buried for a while. 

“I’ve always been… kind of into serial killers,” you said, your voice low but steady, your gaze meeting his as if daring him to be shocked. “I know it sounds crazy, but there's just something about it, something thrilling. Dangerous.”

Heeseung’s brows shot up in surprise. He wasn’t naive about your personality — you had always shown him you were more than the "good girl" everyone assumed you were on campus. He loved that side of you, the one that craved excitement and darkness. But this? This was new. He leaned back slightly, his lips curling into an amused grin.

“Oh?” he said, his voice deepening with curiosity. “Serial killers, huh?”

You nodded, biting your lip, feeling a little heat rise to your cheeks. But you didn’t feel embarrassed. Not with him. “I find it… hot. Sexy, even. Knives, the thrill of being hunted. It just does something to me.”

Heeseung blinked, clearly processing what you had just said, but there was no judgment in his eyes. If anything, his expression only became more intrigued. He let out a short laugh, shaking his head slightly. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

“I know,” you said, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “Does it freak you out?”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Not at all. I mean, I always knew you had a wild side, but damn.”

He scooted closer to you on the couch, the blanket shifting as he moved. There was something darker, more intense in his eyes now. As if a switch had flipped. You could feel the shift in the atmosphere, your heart pounding a little harder as his fingers grazed your thigh.

Then he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, his voice lowering to a near-whisper. “What if I were a killer, and you were my next victim? What would you do?”

The question sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t just his words but the way he said them — his tone dripping with menace, yet still teasing. The line between playful and dangerous blurred instantly, your mind spinning as your pulse quickened. You swallowed, your voice trembling with excitement.

“I-I guess I’d run,” you said, almost breathless.

Heeseung smirked, his eyes flashing with something darker. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding it just tight enough to make you feel the tension. “You’d run? Good. I’d chase you. And when I catch you, I’d make sure you knew just how much trouble you’re in.”

Your breath hitched. You were entirely caught up in the moment, the shift in energy sending a thrill through your body. He was so good at this, so convincing. It was like his entire demeanor had transformed. The Heeseung you knew, the sweet, playful boyfriend, had vanished — replaced by someone darker. Someone dangerous.

“Run,” he whispered, his voice a low growl. His grip on your wrist loosened just enough for you to slip free. 

You didn’t think twice. You bolted off the couch, your heart pounding in your chest as you darted towards the hallway. It felt ridiculous, but at the same time, thrilling. Your legs carried you down the hallway, past the bathroom, towards the bedroom. You could hear his footsteps behind you, slow and deliberate, but menacing in a way that sent a jolt of excitement through you. You knew he wasn’t rushing after you — he was savoring the chase, playing the part.

You ducked into the bedroom, your breath coming in quick bursts, your pulse racing. The thrill of being hunted made your body tingle with excitement. You quickly hid behind the door, pressing your back against the wall, trying to control your breathing. Your mind raced as you listened for his footsteps.

The apartment was eerily quiet, save for the faint creak of the floorboards as Heeseung moved closer. You could almost hear your own heartbeat in your ears, a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Then, his voice broke through the silence.

“Where are you hiding, baby?” Heeseung called out, his voice calm but with a sinister edge that made your skin prickle. “I’ll find you. And when I do, you’re mine.”

You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from making a noise. Every part of you was buzzing with a mixture of fear and arousal. He was so good at this, it was almost terrifying.

Then, you heard the bedroom door creak open. You held your breath, pressing yourself further against the wall. Heeseung stepped into the room, and you could feel his presence, his calm but dangerous energy filling the space. He was close now, so close.

Suddenly, you heard the unmistakable sound of something metal scraping along the doorframe. You peeked out from your hiding spot and saw him holding a knife — not real, but the fake one he’d used for his Halloween costume last year. It glinted in the dim light of the room, and the sight of it sent a shiver down your spine. You knew it wasn’t real, but the image of him holding it was enough to make your heart race even faster.

“I know you’re in here,” Heeseung said, his voice dark and smooth. “You can’t hide from me forever.”

You couldn’t help it — a small whimper escaped your lips. Heeseung’s head snapped in your direction, his eyes locking onto you in an instant. 

“There you are,” he purred, his voice sending another thrill through you.

You bolted from your hiding spot, trying to make a dash for the door, but Heeseung was faster. He grabbed you, pinning you against the wall in one swift, practiced motion. His body pressed against yours, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. The knife was pressed lightly against your throat — not enough to hurt, but just enough to send your pulse skyrocketing.

“You didn’t run fast enough, baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Now you’re mine.”

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your heart pounding against your chest. The fear, the thrill of it all, had you completely entranced. You looked up at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were dark, intense, filled with a mixture of amusement and something far more dangerous.

"Look at you," Heeseung growled, his voice low and dripping with amusement. “All worked up because you like dangerous shit, huh?”

You tried to respond, but his grip on your face tightened, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to keep you still. Your heart pounded in your chest, the mixture of fear and arousal overwhelming every sense.

“Fuck,” he scoffed, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “I didn’t know you were this filthy, baby. Liking knives and serial killers? You’re even freakier than I thought.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending a wave of heat through your body. “What’s wrong with you?” he mocked, his voice dark and teasing. “Huh? Does this shit really get you wet?”

Heeseung’s free hand trailed down your body, fingers ghosting over the curves of your waist, deliberately slow, teasing. His touch was rough, your skin tingled under his fingers, the anticipation driving you insane.

“You’re sick,” he continued, his voice thick. “Getting off on being hunted like some prey. Do you even realize how fucked up that is?”

You whimpered, the tension in the air building to an almost unbearable level. He smirked, clearly enjoying the way you responded to his words. His hand finally settled on your throat, not squeezing too hard, but enough to remind you that he had all the power in this moment.

“What’s that, baby?” he cooed mockingly. “Cat got your tongue? Or are you too busy dripping over the thought of me fucking you like the dirty little slut you are?”

Your body trembled under his grip, the combination of his degrading words and the roughness of his touch sending a wave of heat straight to your pussy. Heeseung’s smirk only deepened when he saw the effect he was having on you. 

“Yeah,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin. “You fucking like this, don’t you?”

He chuckled darkly, his hand still gripping your throat as he leaned back slightly, his eyes scanning your body as if you were something he owned, something he could play with however he wanted.

“I should’ve known,” he sneered. “That ‘good girl’ act on campus? Total fucking bullshit. I bet no one knows how much of a dirty little freak you really are. Getting wet for knives and killers. How fucked up is that, baby?”

You tried to speak, but Heeseung’s grip on your throat tightened just enough to cut off any response. His eyes darkened, and he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your jaw as he spoke.

“Tell me,” he hissed. “What else gets you off? Huh? Is it the thought of me chasing you down, pinning you to the ground, making you beg for me to stop?”

Heeseung's words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you couldn’t help but whimper, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it. He chuckled, low and dangerous.

“Fucking pathetic,” he mocked, shaking his head. “I barely even touched you, and you’re already whining like a little bitch.”

Heeseung’s hand finally left your throat, but before you could even process the loss of his grip, he grabbed your waist roughly, spinning you around and shoving you against the wall. The impact sent a thrill through you, your cheek pressing against the cool surface as his body pressed into yours from behind. His hands roamed over your body, possessive and rough, his touch almost punishing.

“Bet you’d love that,” he continued, his breath hot against the back of your neck. “Me hunting you down like some fucking animal. Catching you and making you scream my name. You’d probably fucking love it if I tied you up, left you helpless, wouldn’t you?”

You gasped as his hand slid between your legs, the roughness of his touch sending a shockwave through you. His fingers ghosted over your panties, accessible because of the skirt you were wearing.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, his fingers brushing against the heat of your pussy. “Fuck, you really are a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”

You whimpered again, the sound desperate and needy. But Heeseung wasn’t having it. He pulled his hand away abruptly, making you gasp in frustration. You tried to push back against him, but he quickly grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind you and against your back.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he mocked, his voice a low growl. “You don’t get to fucking move until I say so.”

You bit your lip, your body trembling with need. Heeseung chuckled darkly again, clearly enjoying the power he held over you.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice laced with amusement. “Begging for me without even saying a word. You’re so fucking desperate. Is this what you wanted, baby? For me to treat you like the filthy little whore you are?”

“Yeah,” you finally managed to choke out, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Please…”

“Please, what?” he mocked, his grip on your wrists tightening. “Use your fucking words.”

“Please, hee, just… fuck me,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible.

He let out a dark laugh, leaning in so close that his lips brushed your ear again. “Oh, I’ll fuck you, baby. But you’re gonna have to fucking beg for it. Beg me to fuck you like the little slut you are.”

Your mind was spinning, every nerve in your body on fire. The way he talked to you — it was everything you’d ever fantasized about and more. You needed him, desperately, and the thought of him making you beg only made you want it more.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please, hee. Fuck me. I need it. I need you.”

He smirked, clearly satisfied with your response. “That’s more like it,” he growled. “But remember, baby. I’m in fucking control here. And you’re going to take everything I give you.” 

Heeseung released your wrists, but before you could even catch your breath, he grabbed your hips roughly, positioning you exactly how he wanted. His fingers dug into your skin, his touch harsh and demanding. You could feel the heat of his body pressing against yours, and the anticipation was almost unbearable. He made you arch your back, your hips and meeting his.

“Now,” he growled, his voice dark and filled with promise. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll remember exactly who owns you.”

He leaned forward, his chest pressed against your back, his lips grazing your ear, and you could feel the raw power radiating off him in waves. You could feel his hard cock against your ass. You whimpered, your body trembling with anticipation. He dragged one of his hands up your side, rough and deliberate, before his fingers slipped between your legs again, teasing your slick heat.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice laced with amusement. “You’re soaking. All this just from me talking dirty to you?”

You could barely form words, your body so worked up from the tension he’d been building with every degrading word. You pushed back against him, desperate for more, but he wasn’t having it. He grabbed your hips again, roughly holding you in place, preventing you from moving.

“Ah, not so fast,” he mocked, a dark laugh escaping his lips. “You’re not ready yet, baby. I’m not about to just fuck you like this without prepping you, or I'll hurt you."

You let out a small, needy whimper, your head spinning. Your breath hitched as his words sunk in, your body trembling even more under his touch. Heeseung wasted no time, sliding his fingers through your slick folds, spreading your arousal as he circled your clit with rough, teasing strokes. You moaned, your body arching involuntarily as the pleasure started to build.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, his voice dark and rough with lust. “You’re practically begging for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Please, Hee… I need you.”

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “You’re gonna get me, baby. Every fucking inch. But I want you to be ready.”

Without warning, he slid one finger inside you, slow and deliberate, making you moan softly at the sudden intrusion. He was teasing you, taking his time as he pumped his finger in and out, the slickness of your arousal making it easy for him to push deeper. Your body responded instantly, hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, clearly enjoying the way you clenched around him. “I’m gonna have to stretch you out real good if you’re gonna take my cock.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, the anticipation making your body tingle with need. Heeseung added another finger, the sensation sending a wave of heat through you as he began thrusting them in and out, faster this time, his touch rough and demanding. You moaned louder, your body reacting to every movement, every thrust of his fingers.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. “Take it, baby. You can handle this, can’t you?”

You nodded frantically, unable to form words as the pleasure built inside you, your body practically trembling under his dominance. His fingers moved faster, rougher, hitting all the right spots, and you could feel the tension in your core starting to coil tighter and tighter. He was prepping you, but he was also pushing you closer to the edge.

“You like that?” Heeseung mocked, his lips brushing against your ear again. “Being fucked by my fingers? I bet you’re imagining how good my cock’s gonna feel inside you, aren’t you?”

“Yes, f-fuck” you moaned, your voice shaky, desperate. “I want it. I want you.”

He let out a dark chuckle, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that spot that made your legs weak. You gasped, your body jerking at the sensation, and Heeseung’s grip on your hips tightened as he held you in place.

“I know you do, baby,” he growled. “But you need to be patient. I’m gonna stretch you out until you’re begging for my cock. And when I finally give it to you, I’m not gonna hold back. You’ll be fucking screaming my name.”

You whimpered, the mixture of pleasure and anticipation becoming almost unbearable. Heeseung added a third finger, the stretch sending a sharp thrill through your body as he worked you open, thrusting his fingers in and out of you with rough, relentless precision. You moaned louder, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, and Heeseung’s lips curled into a wicked grin at the sound.

“Fuck, you’re such a little slut,” he sneered, his voice dripping with amusement. “Getting off on my fingers like this. I can feel how close you are. But you’re not coming yet. Not until my cock’s inside you.”

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body desperate for release. But Heeseung wasn’t giving you any mercy. He pulled his fingers out of you abruptly, making you gasp in frustration, your body aching from the sudden loss of sensation.

“Not yet,” he growled, his voice filled with dark promise. “You don’t get to come until I’m buried deep, deep, inside you.”

You whimpered, your body trembling with need, and Heeseung chuckled darkly at your desperation. He shifted behind you, positioning himself so that you could feel the hard length of him pressing against your entrance, the sensation making your heart race. He was big — and even after a year, it still surprised you every time.

Heeseung gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back against him as he lined himself up with your entrance. He pushed just the tip in, slow and teasing, the stretch making you gasp. He held himself there for a moment, his breath hot against your neck, and you could feel every inch of him as he pressed against your slick heat.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, his voice rough with lust. “You’re gonna take all of me, baby. Every fucking inch.”

You moaned softly, your body trembling as he began to push deeper, the sensation of him stretching you open making your legs weak. He moved slowly at first, letting you feel every inch of him as he sank into you, inch by inch, the stretch almost overwhelming.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “I can feel how desperate you are. You’re practically choking my cock, baby.”

You whimpered, your body trembling as he finally buried himself fully inside you, the feeling of him filling you completely making your head spin. He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his grip on your hips tight and possessive.

Then, without warning, he pulled out halfway and slammed back into you with a rough, brutal thrust. You moaned loudly, the sudden impact sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body, and Heeseung chuckled darkly at your reaction.

“Yeah, you fucking like that, don’t you?” he growled, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You like being fucked rough. You like it when I own you like this.”

You could barely respond, your body trembling with pleasure as he began to fuck you with hard, relentless thrusts, each one driving deeper inside you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, and Heeseung’s voice was dark and rough as he degraded you with every word.

“Take it,” he growled. “Take every fucking inch of me. You’re mine. My filthy little slut.”

You moaned loudly, your body trembling under the force of his thrusts, and Heeseung’s grip on your hips tightened as he pounded into you, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “You feel so fucking good, baby. So fucking tight. I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through your body, and you could feel the tension in your core building rapidly, the pleasure overwhelming every sense.

Heeseung’s pace was relentless, his rough, powerful thrusts leaving you breathless and trembling. The sensation of him deep inside you, filling you completely, was overwhelming. Your mind spun, barely able to process the intensity of it all. The room seemed to blur around you, the only thing grounding you being the feel of Heeseung’s strong hands gripping your hips, the sound of his ragged breath against your ear, and the harsh slap of his body against yours.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he growled, his voice deep and rough with lust. “Tight, warm, squeezing me like you never want me to stop.”

He drove into you harder, faster, each thrust shaking your entire body, and you were already teetering on the edge. The overwhelming pleasure coiled tight in your core, the knot growing tighter with each second as he pounded into you, not giving you a moment to breathe.

“I can feel you getting close,” he sneered, leaning in close to your ear. “You’re already about to come, aren’t you? I can feel how fucking desperate you are.”

You tried to respond, but the only sound that escaped your lips was a helpless moan. You were trembling, your body barely able to handle the intensity of his movements. You felt like you were going to explode, your entire body burning with pleasure as you clenched around him, trying to hold onto the last threads of control.

“Go on,” Heeseung growled, his voice dark and filled with amusement. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you lose it.”

His words sent you over the edge. With a desperate moan, you came hard, your body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure ripped through you, wave after wave. Your legs buckled beneath you, and Heeseung’s grip on your hips tightened as he held you up, his pace never faltering. The way he kept driving into you, even as you pulsed around him, made your orgasm last longer, dragging you into a state of blissful helplessness.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Heeseung groaned, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re fucking perfect when you come. Look at you, barely able to stand. So fucking ruined for me.”

Your breath came in ragged gasps, and you thought he might slow down, give you a moment to recover. But Heeseung had no intention of letting you rest. Instead, he pulled out for just a second, flipping you around so that you were now facing him. Before you could even catch your breath, he pushed you up against the wall again, lifting one of your legs and hooking it around his waist. With one rough thrust, he buried himself deep inside you once more, the sudden sensation making you cry out.

He started fucking you again, even rougher this time, each thrust harder and more intense than the last. You were still sensitive from your first orgasm, and the overstimulation made your head spin. Your body was already trembling, barely able to keep up with the way he was taking you. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on anything except the overwhelming pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice low and rough. “You’re squeezing me so fucking hard, baby. I know you’re close again. I can feel it.”

You moaned, your head falling back against the wall, your body shaking as the pleasure built again, faster this time. You couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop yourself from spiraling towards another orgasm, and Heeseung knew it. He smirked, his hands gripping your hips harder as he increased the intensity of his thrusts, driving deeper into you with every movement.

“Come for me again,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding. “Come on, baby, I know you want to. I want to feel you fall apart for me.”

You couldn’t hold back. With a desperate cry, you came again, your body trembling uncontrollably as the pleasure crashed over you, even stronger than the first time. Your mind went blank, the sensation overwhelming every sense, your body completely at Heeseung’s mercy.

“That’s it,” Heeseung groaned, his voice filled with satisfaction as he felt you pulsing around him. “Fuck, you’re so good for me. Coming like that again and again. You love it, don’t you?”

You were too far gone to answer, your body shaking as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. But Heeseung didn’t slow down. He kept fucking you, his thrusts hard and relentless, pushing you further and further into a haze of pleasure. Your mind couldn’t keep up, the overstimulation making your body twitch with every thrust, your moans becoming more desperate, more breathless.

“You’re mine,” Heeseung growled, his voice dripping with dominance. “You’re fucking mine, and I’m not stopping until I get every last fucking drop out of you.”

You whimpered, your body trembling uncontrollably as the pleasure built again. You didn’t think it was possible, but Heeseung was driving you towards another orgasm, your body responding to him even though you were already completely spent. The overstimulation was almost too much, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge again.

“Look at you,” he sneered, his voice filled with dark amusement. “You can barely fucking stand, and you’re still so desperate for more. You really are a little slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, barely able to form words as your body trembled under his relentless pace. “I’m yours… Heeseung, please…”

“Fuck, that’s right,” he growled, his voice low and rough. “You’re fucking mine.”

With one last hard thrust, he drove you over the edge again, your body convulsing as another orgasm tore through you. This one was different — it was so intense, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t even think. Your vision blurred, your body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure consumed you entirely. You could barely breathe, your mind completely blank as you fell apart for him.

Heeseung groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he kept fucking you through your orgasm, his own breath ragged and uneven. “Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “You’re fucking perfect when you come for me like that.”

You could barely keep your eyes open, your body trembling and weak, but Heeseung wasn’t done with you yet. He didn’t stop, didn’t give you a moment to recover. His thrusts were still as hard and rough as ever, pushing you further and further into a haze of pleasure and overstimulation. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, your body completely at his mercy as he took everything from you.

“Tell me,” Heeseung growled, his voice low and commanding. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” you gasped, barely able to form the words. “I belong to you.”

Heeseung smirked, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Damn right you do,” he growled. “And I’m not stopping until you’ve come so many times you can’t fucking think straight.”

He wasn’t lying. You lost track of how many times he made you come after that. Each orgasm blurred into the next, the pleasure overwhelming every sense until your mind was nothing but a haze of need and desire. You were shaking, trembling, barely able to form coherent thoughts, but Heeseung didn’t stop. He kept pushing you, kept driving you towards the edge over and over again, his voice dark and commanding in your ear.

By the time he finally let you collapse, you were completely spent, your body trembling and weak. You could barely think, your mind still spinning from the intensity of everything he’d done to you. But as Heeseung pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, you couldn’t help but feel completely satisfied, completely owned by him.

“You did so good, baby,” Heeseung whispered softly, his voice filled with affection now that the storm had passed. “So fucking good for me.”

You barely had the energy to respond, but you smiled, feeling safe and content in his arms.

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 18) tw: minor character death, injuries, and misogynistic language

masterlist

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He’s far off still, the smoking gun held tight in his hand and aimed up at the sky. A warning shot.  

At first, you don’t quite believe it. He appears like a mirage in the distance after wandering through the desert for days, on the brink of starvation. Like a trick of the eye. You squint against the light, sure that you’ve mistaken the familiar felt pinch front hat and the speckled Appaloosa he sits astride for someone else, a stranger come to save you instead of the man you’ve been desperately pining for since Graves stole you from your home. 

But the longer you stare at the man coming towards you, the brim of his hat casting a shadow over his face save for the grim set of his mouth, the harder it is to deny that it really is John. 

Your chest is fit to burst. Heart pumping wildly against your ribcage. The sight of him is revelatory—a burning bush, a stream of light through storm clouds, St Elmo’s fire. The euphoric high is almost overwhelming.

“Son of a bitch,” Graves hisses beneath his breath, hand reaching for the revolver on his belt. 

John is quicker though, firing off another round, this time at the ground between them, alarming Graves enough to make his arm jerk away from his side. Even you yelp. The gunfire cuts your swell of adulation short, bringing you back flush to the surface of the real world again. Graves’ horse scrambles back a few steps, nearly rearing up before Graves gets control of him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, now—” Graves booms, right in your ear, so loud that you wince, curling into yourself. 

The gelding chuffs at John’s approach, unsettled. Graves digs his spurs into the horse’s side when it takes a few nervous steps back, making it whinny in pain. You’d tell him off, but you’ve learned by now to hold your tongue around Graves. He only knows how to impose his authority through pain. 

“Easy, alright—” Graves calls out, holding out the hand not tangled in the reins to show that it’s empty, the revolver still sheathed in its holster. “No one’s gonna do anything stupid.”

The horse John sits astride is the one he never dared to train you on. The one you know would buck you straight off if you tried to hoist yourself up on its saddle. He’s bigger than Buttercup, all muscle and broodsome aura like its owner, and he doesn’t take kindly to strangers. 

When it breathes out, you imagine its breath should smell sulfuric. Fire and brimstone. 

Closer to you now, you can see his eyes under the brim of his hat. He glowers at Graves, the same look you’ve seen only once before, staring through the window of the general store at the scowl carved into his face when he dragged a man across town, but intensified. Not so much as a glimmer of sympathy or understanding in his eyes. Just cold rage. 

The lines in his face are deep from lack of sleep, dark troughs under his eyes. Shoulders stiff; every muscle of his tensed, poised to react. You wonder how long after Graves took you John realized and followed the two of you in pursuit. 

“I’m gonna say this once and you best not try my patience: let the lady go.”

The sound of his voice rumbles through you, making the hair on your arms raise. Seldom have you heard him use that tone of voice, more man than sheriff. 

Graves’ hand tightens on the reins, knuckles going white. You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know that he has the same obsequious look on his face as he did back in town, indignation relegated to his extremities. You can see it in the tensed muscle of his forearms.

“Now Sheriff, you may have the run of this county, but I’ve got the power of the law on my side. The state of New York has issued a warrant for this woman’s arrest.” Graves’ smarmy evocation to the legality of his actions rankles you. He acts like the whole situation is out of his control, that he takes no joy in your apprehension. Simply a matter of duty. 

Not that it seems to make a difference. Even you could tell Graves that. 

“I won’t ask again.” John’s voice is threaded with fury, angrier than you’ve ever heard him speak. 

And true to his words, he doesn’t. The silence stretches between the two men, fraught with tension. Graves is a rigid line at your back. 

He’s the first to break the silence; the first to give. “At least let me show you the warrant, Sheriff,” Graves implores. “I ain’t just some vagrant that’s come and taken the sheriff’s wife without cause—and I assure you, there is cause.”

John doesn’t say a word, blue eyes still severe. Colder than the waters of Cocytus. 

Graves must take his silence as permission because he reaches a hand into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He holds it out to John at first, perhaps expecting the man to come close enough to take it from his hand, but John doesn’t even glance at the hand offering him the arrest warrant, eyes still locked on Graves. 

“See now, I’ll even read it out—” he says, clearing his throat and half turning the paper back to him. “‘Whereas it has been represented to Government that—’”

“Give the letter to my wife,” John cuts him off, gesturing towards the warrant in Graves’ hand with his gun. “She’ll deliver it to me once you’ve handed her over.”

The interruption stuns Graves into silence, the warrant still held in his outstretched arm. He must not be accustomed to men deferring to women instead of him, much less a criminal like you. Your stomach cramps with nerves. The blow to his ego worries you more than John getting his hands on the arrest warrant. His behavior up to this point has been predictable—violent, but unsurprising. You aren’t interested in finding out if losing his temper changes that. 

John’s eyes flick to yours. The first time he’s really looked at you since arriving unannounced, just a quick glance over you to ensure that you’re well. He must not like what he sees because the skin around his eyes tightens. 

The moment of inattention is all Graves needs, eyes trained on it like a hunting dog. John’s eyes barely twitch away to meet yours and Graves draws his gun, his aim wild when he shoots. 

You don’t see what he hits, but the gunfire drives John’s horse into a panic, throwing its head back and rearing up onto its hind legs. Graves fires again and the ground between you explodes, dirt and debris erupting into the air. The horse roars, the sound deep and throaty. 

Graves grabs you by the back of your dress, forcing your back to arch and shoulders to pull back, using you, for all intents and purposes, as a meat shield. You can hear John try to take control of his horse, but it’s near mindless with fear, braying and bucking when Graves fires again, white smoke billowing from the muzzle. Panic seizes you by the throat when John’s horse bucks him right off, bellowing a curse when his body slams to the ground. 

A scream bursts from your throat, but Graves holds you in place before you can slide off the saddle, spitting a tense shut the fuck up into your ear before digging his heel into his horse’s flank and steering him around, beating a hasty retreat. His horse moves in a wide arc until his body is turned back in the direction that Graves was originally heading. 

You struggle against him until the horse moves at a speed too dangerous to chance falling from its back. It covers ground fast, moving at a breakneck speed. 

“Stop—let me down!” you scream, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. The howling wind carries your voice away. 

The violent toing and froing makes it impossible to cast a backward glance and see if John is in pursuit. All of your senses narrow down to what’s in front of you; from the saddle horn digging into your stomach and the air whipping past your face to the feeling of Graves’ breath wafting over the back of your neck as he pants. 

A booming crack fills the air and you scream, fear soaring to an unfathomable height. 

Graves grunts and tenses behind you, his hands spasming around the reins and letting go involuntarily. Then you feel the body behind you slump to the side, his weight almost unbalancing you until he falls off the horse altogether, feet slipping out of the stirrups. 

The blood in your ears masks the sound of his body hitting the ground. Your head whips around to follow the trajectory of Graves’ body, but a wave of vertigo slams into you, a head on collision that forces you to dig your fingers into the horse’s mane and turn your body back around. 

The horse barely notices the body slipping off its back though, tunnel vision on the road ahead. Legs pumping furiously beneath it, kicking up clouds of dust and dirt. You’d have thought the horse would’ve slowed up with the sudden unburdening of the other person astride it, but if anything, it picks up speed. 

You can’t calm down enough to catch your breath; it gallops ahead of you as well, your vision growing spotty with the short, jagged breaths you take in. Lungs collapsing under the weight of your chest. Eyes squinted against the piercing wind. Sunspots brighter than light itself. 

Your instinct is to make yourself small; shield yourself from the impending pain. That inescapable reality rushes towards you as quickly as you race towards it. You’re going to fall. It’s almost certain. You whimper when a particularly rough stride makes you slip an inch to the right, your fingers gripping into the horse’s mane ever tighter, desperate to keep yourself astride.

Someone’s voice breaks through the noise and you open your eyes. 

In your fearstruck state, you almost don’t recognize the man riding beside you and keeping pace until he says your name—your real name—and you snap back to yourself. No time to contemplate your name in his mouth though, no time for anything except keeping from slipping into total panic.

“Pull up on the reins!” John roars over the clamor of hooves. 

You peel your face from the horse’s mane to meet his eyes. The parallel of a memory from long ago. It flashes before your eyes and you remember yourself. Numb hands fisted in the horse’s mane unclench. 

“Pull up!” he shouts again, and this time you comprehend. It’s the same as the time before. 

Summoning every ounce of courage in your bones, you tighten your thighs and belly to lift yourself up, gathering and bridging the reins in your manacled hands. Half halt, release, and half halt again. 

“Good—now circle!” John’s voice booms in your ear and through your blood. 

You flinch when you try to steer your horse into a wide, sweeping turn and he resists at first, but on your second try, he follows your pull, his strides gradually slowing, easing up. When your horse finally comes to a standstill, walking its last few strides before coming to a stop, you sit with that bubble of tension until it bursts. Under your thighs, you can feel your horse’s ribs expand and contract with its labored breath. 

The world blurs for a moment. The adrenaline flooding your body dissipates more with every breath you take, but the crash is just as intense as the rise. You can feel the shakes that wrack your body in a way that your mind can’t quite yet take in, still outside of itself. The first thing you truly register is your husband suddenly at your side, coaxing you down from the horse, your handcuffed hands braced on his chest as he helps you down and then holding on to him when your knees nearly buckle under you.

“Thank Christ,” he growls, pulling you into his chest. 

The smell of tobacco and cloves is woven into the fabric of his shirt and you breathe it in zealously because it’s his. The reassurance that your husband has you, that he’s with you now, and the bad is over, nearly bowls you over. Makes you shake all the harder.

When you finally pull your face away from John’s chest, he cups your cheek with a gunpowder dusted hand, tilting your head up so he can press his lips to your forehead. Your gaze flits up and you stare at him with bleary eyes, wondering what he sees when he looks at you. Messy hair and a fleeting breath that quivers out, breaks to pieces, illuminates the sky when you glance over his head and it’s so blue that you could swim in it. 

John frowns when you accidentally roll your shoulder back and wince. “You’re hurt.” 

There’s no use in lying when he'll find out the truth soon enough, so you just nod. 

“His doing, was it?” he assumes more than asks, inspecting you closely now and noting all the fresh abrasions immediately visible to his eyes.  

Most of your injuries are surface level, more than apparent to him after a quick perusal. A split lip and plenty of scrapes just beginning to scab. You’re too tired to recount the events of the day before though, so you just shrug. Then hiss, the pain so intense that your bones go cold for a split second. 

His forehead pinches with his frown, ghosting his hand over your shoulder as if to hold it in place. “I’ll look at it later, okay, darlin’?”

Every inch of you aches. You wish it could just be over now and you could be back in your bed by sundown, but you know the way home will be just as long. No rest unless you want the journey to be twice as long. The exhaustion alone might have you keel over before night falls. 

Then someone coughs and drags you back into the real world. 

You follow the sound with your eyes until they land on its cause. The crumpled form of the bounty hunter that dragged you out of town lies a quarter mile back. It’s difficult to make out the state of him from so far away, but you can tell it isn’t pretty, mangled and bloody from the fall he took off the horse. 

“Oh God…” you murmur, eyes widening when the man twitches against the grass. 

John’s hand falls away from your cheek. His anger is so palpable that you can feel it fill him back up, blue eyes going steely and jaw tightening as he stares at the man that tried to take you from him. 

“Stay here,” your husband growls, hand reaching down to draw his pistol again.

John leaves you by the horses some distance away as he makes his way over to Graves’ prone form. Blood seeps from a gunshot wound in his shoulder, saturating his shirt and wetting the dirt beneath him, and even from where you stand, you can see the odd angle of his ankle from where he hit the ground. 

With no small amount of effort, Graves props himself up on his good arm, the other hanging limp against the ground. Even the sight makes you wince, bile churning in your stomach. He has to be in tremendous pain. Even John limps a little as he approaches the other man, hip likely sore from his own fall. 

Against your better judgment, and your husband’s command, you take a step towards them. And then another.

You have no reason other than the sinking feeling in your belly. If it were you with the gun, things would be different, you think. You’d do it again, without a second thought. Anything to keep Graves from opening his mouth. 

The gun in John’s hand makes clear his intentions in no uncertain terms. Out on the plains in the middle of nowhere, even taking pity on the man and bringing Graves to the nearest town might not be enough. It’s a rough world out there. Tougher still with a wounded shoulder and sprained ankle. 

More to the matter, John’s face says it all, jaw clenched and lips drawn into a tight line. 

“It doesn’t have to go this way, sheriff,” Graves wheezes when the other man draws close enough to hear. 

“You know I haven’t got a choice now,” John says, gazing up at the sky for a moment before looking back down at the man on the ground. “Not after you laid a hand on my wife.”

Despite the distance, Graves’ voice carries when he speaks. “You think you know that bitch? You don’t know this woman from Eve. What makes you think she won’t butcher you like she did that man back east?”

So casually he says it that you almost miss it. And then you don’t. The words pour over you like a sudden rain and you are back in that room, dread so potent that it chars the flesh, leaving cratered, necrotic holes wherever it touches. The worst moment of your life. 

And Graves says it like a sin of your own making, like it was something you wanted, not a moment in your life haunting you from beyond the grave. 

Your heart stops when your husband looks over at you assessingly. The truth lours over the two of you now, out in the open at last. All those months of hiding it, squandered in a moment by an injured man’s words. All you can do is stare helplessly at the man outlined by the blue sky, the horizon forever etching him into your memory. It’s the first time since you stumbled into the sheriff’s office all those months ago that you haven’t wanted him to think that you weren’t the woman that was supposed to be his wife.

“Shoulda listened to me, sheriff,” Graves laughs, his voice pained and raspy. “That Jezebel needs to answer for what she did.”

You can see it in his eyes that he believes Graves. And why wouldn’t he? The man has committed no crime; spoken not a lie to this point. 

John looks at you in such a strange way though. There’s no surprise there; just a glint in his eye meant only for you. A glint that says darlin’, this ain’t nothin’ new; you never could’ve fooled me. 

He knew your name after all. And you wonder how long he’s known. If he found out sometime in those first days or somewhere down the line or if the arrest warrant fell across his desk in recent days and he knew it would come to this, someone hunting you down across state lines to bring you back. If he knew he’d always have to come after you and rescue you from the jaws of death. 

Everything comes all at once, each moment flashing across your mind barely long enough to leave an impression. Everything is proven immaterial in seconds. 

There’s so much between the two of you. History, obligation, duty. Tenderness shouldn’t even be the half of it, and yet it bears down twice as hard. It’s the only thing that matters when you look at him—not the thought of being dragged back east and forced to stand trial, not the injustice of being made to atone for protecting yourself against a worse fate, but the thought of being taken away from him, of never seeing him again.

You can feel that worry evaporate the longer you hold his gaze. There’s something intentional there, something he is saying without words. 

These days, you do not think to tremble when his hands are on your lips. You tilt your head instead, wait for him to make his next move. Your trust, implicit, underlying everything. Knowing he’ll break the bread and feed you from his hands if need be.

Though you can’t unhinge your jaw enough to ask him to promise that he’ll keep you, his eyes say that it’s a foregone conclusion. How could he ever let you go? You’re everything he’s ever wanted, the only thing even duty could never take from him. 

John looks back down at the man lying at his feet. “Couldn’t help runnin’ your mouth, now could you?”

Graves opens his mouth, but John doesn’t wait for a response. He pulls the trigger.

[servicpop]

obsessive ( nsfw ) obsessive toji f. x oblivious bttm male reader

Toji hated how oblivious you were.

You could run your pretty little mouth to a cafe worker and overlook the yearning in their eyes, or you would turn a blind eye to when your co-worker at your part-time job asks so blatantly for your number, but you just disregard it as just so you could be called in when they call sick.

He doesn't say anything about it, not when you two are out getting drinks — since it was your payday — and he sees a girl approach you, batting her eyelashes blotted black with mascara and throwing meaningless compliments at you. He only glares, his hand slipped around your waist, squeezing the soft flesh there as if he was voicing his complaints through actions.

But of course you brush him off, saying something along the lines of 'she probably wants to be friends,' which undoubtedly ticks him off.

A smile, however, graces his scarred lips when he sees the girl's eyes flicker to the hand around your sides and backs off ever so slightly and he swears he would never but he most definitely flipped her off while your attention was on her.

When your drinks were finally done, the worker handed it to you, and god did Toji almost throw a straight punch when he saw your fingers brush together. Why was everyone gunning for you? When he first started going out with you, he simply assumed that no one would dare come close because of his looks, but now, people didn't even look in his direction, only yours.

"You're like a fucking angel," He grunted under his breath, placing the paper straw that would eventually disintegrate from him chewing on it inbetween his lips to take a sip. You turn your head to ask him what he said, not being able to hear it through the rumble of his voice, but he replies with a blunt, "nothing."

Throughout your whole 'date,' Toji was just getting increasingly pissed off about the whole ordeal. Guys and girls were approaching you, trying to start up a conversation, and as the sweet little oblivious boy you were, you'd engage, which always ended in Toji having to scare them away with a glare and a hand wrapped around you.

The ride home was fairly quiet; Toji wasn't a man of many words but he couldn't shake off the jealousy that he desperately wanted to bury. His fingers brushed against his scarred lips, a habit he's adopted over the years, and his leg bounced repetitively before the words just spilt out from his mouth like gates opening. "Does it not bother you?" he speaks in a rather hushed tone, almost like he's trying to restrain the jealousy in his voice.

"Bother me how?" You question, getting out from your seat once you've reached your home. Toji is left trailing after you like a stray dog while the key chains on your keys clink together as you unlock your front door.

"When people are always coming up to you," Toji grumbles, extending an arm above your head to hold the door open for you. "They're interested in you, can't you see that?" His hands find their way to rest on your waist and he pulls your back to his chest. "I'm right here and you still wanna shoot your shot with someone else?" Toji has forgotten all about keeping his obsession over you at bay, all he wants to do is knock some sense into you.

Before you can even refute his words, Toji already has his hands crawling underneath your shirt. His large, thick fingers finding your chest to pinch at your nipples, twisting them lightly. One hand leaves your chest while the other is splayed across it, holding you back as he pulls at your waistband, stretching the elastic out to look down at you.

"Already hard and I've barely touched you," He tsked, and contradictory to his words, his hand wanders down to touch you more. He pulls at your pants, slipping them down until they pool at your ankles before he runs a finger along the bulge at your boxers.

You instinctively whine and grasp his forearms in a futile attempt to stop his hands but you just end up twitching in his hold. "What? Don't want it? Thought you loved attention," Toji slips his hand lower, trailing down so he could press the pad of his fingers to your hole through the fabric. There's barely any friction or penetration to get you going so your hips jerk back, pushing against Toji which elicts a low groan from the man.

"Yeah, yeah you do, you fucking love it," His laugh comes out harsh and he's folding himself ontop of you, getting you to bend over more. Both his thumbs link underneath your waistband and pulls it down with a small whistle. Toji's arm then constricts around your waist where your body bent, holding you up so you didn't fall or escape. For a second he holds you still and all you can hear is the clink of his belt coming off and the small pops of his buttons.

"Stay still for me yeah?" He growls in your ear, tugging at his own clothing to get them off. He snakes his hand to your front, curving underneath to slip a finger inside. His arm is brushing so lightly against your now erect cock, but he refuses to touch it.

You could feel every knuckle pushing into you, squeezing against his fingers as you panted. His other hand finally makes it to your dick, using his fingertips to pull your cock against your stomach, tracing his nails along the underside. This ripped out a moan from your throat, your arms thrashing around from the feeling but Toji's arms are so tangle with yours its hard to move.

"Oh? So that's where you're sensitive, huh?" He's blatantly mocking you, taking his anger out on you. You whine again when Toji starts to spread the fingers nestled inside your walls, scissoring you to stretch you out. "Open up for me baby, I know you ain't shy," he keeps his fingers apart, taking his own dick and lining it up to your gaping hole.

He pushed in, and once you fit his tip through, he pulls his fingers back out, plugging you with his thick dick.

Toji hums contently, grabbing both your arms and pulling them back to his sides. You're already arching and he's got a great view of your back. "I feel like you're gonna split in half, God," its a shaky laugh because of how much you're squeezing him, wringing him out of whatever he has to offer. He pulls his hips away from you before he slams back in, the hands on your wrists pulling you against him with each thrust.

You can't do anything with your hands pulled behind your back, Toji's just using your body, handling you like you were a puppet and your arms were the strings.

You can hear Toji groan in frustration but before you could question it, Toji moves his hands, gripping your thigh and pulling it up. His other hand holds your side, as he pistons his hips into you in this new position. "That's deeper, yeah?" He groans into your ear, and you wobble from being forced to stand on one leg but Toji just tightens his grip around your waist.

Your whole body shudders when Toji finally reaches your prostate, hitting right up against it. A grin slowly emerges onto Toji's face when he sees your eyes go blank, and he knows he's found your sweet spot. "There we go, shit I was getting mad 'cause you weren't reacting that much." Toji's fingers dig deeper into the plush flesh of your thigh, and he laughs breathlessly at the obscene sound of his balls hitting against your skin.

"You take it like a champ y'know," he whispers through his teeth, "I'm so mean to you but you don't complain, huh?"

You're too far gone to even hear his words, your warm, wet walls clenching around him as you let out a small cry before coming as hard as you could, the sticky liquid falling straight onto your wooden floors. Toji's condescending laugh rings through your ears as the hand on your waist moves to your tummy, pressing down so he could feel himself rearrange your guts.

And apparently, that gets him off. Alot.

With one more thrust, Toji groans loudly, emptying for all he's worth into you. He pulls out almost immediately so he could see the white globs drip down your inner thighs. He lets go of your thigh that he was previously holding in the air and squishes them together, slotting his cock back between your sticky thighs to ride out his high.

He's peppering light kisses and small bites on your shoulder before speaking in a husky voice, "You gonna let people hit you up?" He asks, and you can barely reply from the physical exhaustion, "...No."

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: alastor being a bit egotistical

↳ song: si j'étais blanche—joséphine baker

↳ notes: got any ideas for stuff i should do next? reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• It wasn’t your fault you’ve always had a messed up sleep schedule

• Even while living, nighttime had never been able to tame you. It was just your luck that the habit carried on into hell. Figures that the world wouldn’t give you a break even in death

• You weren’t exactly an insomniac, per se. It was quite the opposite in fact. Just a simple case of falling victim to spontaneous naps in the most random of places. Yet never at night

• Narcoleptic & nocturnal were the terms that your friends used to use for you. With grins, they’d compared you to an owl; always up at night wandering aimlessly. Sometimes for days on end you’d carry on doing this and that, only to curl into a ball the next day and remain that way

• The habit never was anything more than a nuisance until you’d started living at the hotel. The place was just so big, with so many places for you to lie down before the thought of your bedroom even crossed your mind

• Angel Dust was the first person to find you passed out. He had been strolling into the kitchen, looking for something to consume that wasn’t drugs for once, when he spied you hunched over the counter snoring softly

• In your hand was a wooden spoon covered in a creamy batter of some sort, a bowl beneath it with the same concoction. Almost as if you had been making something before passing out

• Briefly checking his phone, the spider confirmed that it was only two in the afternoon, and approached you with a sly smile

• You were promptly startled awake by a loud shout directly next to your ear

• “I’m sorry—“ Angel laughed wildly as you fumed, not sounding sorry at all. “—but you should have seen your face.” He clutched his stomach as he fell into another laughing fit

• “Hey! Watch it!”

• He ducked with a frown as you sent the spoon flying at his head, just barely missing the porn star’s styled hair

• Everyone quickly made their own discovery about your weird sleeping habits soon after. Each in their own embarrassing ways

• Vaggie witnessed you lying on the stairs looking positively drained one morning, and Charlie even found you face first on the bar counter while Husk wiped away at a cocktail glass

• “Too much to drink?” She asked the cat, lifting up one of your arms between her thumb and forefinger carefully, almost as if you’d wake if she pressed to hard

• Husk laughed to himself at the question, remembering how he had turned to make you a shot before coming back to the sight before him now

• “Not exactly.” He huffed

• Perhaps best example of just how bad your timing was came in the form of an impromptu staff meeting

• Alastor had called everyone— more like demanded them —into the main parlor for an announcement one day. A mere week after the kitchen incident with Angel, in fact

• With a flourish of shadowy magic and a twirl of his hands, the overlord presented some sort of home made commercial on the age old TV the place had, looking very amused with himself as he did so

• You tried to pay attention, you really did. But at one point the actors and stray blood splatters started to look like the back of your eyelids

• By the time it was over, Alastor was tapping his fingers along the top of the picture box rhythmically while everyone looked at him with awkward smiles

• But you? Well—

• “So!” Alastor cheered with a cheesy grin as he spun on his heel. The rest of the members in the room watched him awkwardly, not noticing that your head had hit the back of the couch at a rough angle. “What do you all thi— are they asleep.”

• Static bled into the demons voice at an alarming rate as you let out a half jolt at the shift in mood, falling off the couch with a yelp in your wake

• You took a moment to swipe at your face wildly before blanching at Alastor towering over you nervously

• “Uh, my bad?”

• Alastor’s smile strained itself so thin, you thought it would split his face in half

• “Glad to know I’m keeping you entertained.” He all but laughed happily. But the white knuckled grip on his microphone told you otherwise

• You recall Charlie telling you something about ignorance being one of Alastor’s least favorite things. Especially when it came to his little spectacles

• “Maybe we’ve had enough peer feedback for today—“ Vaggie cut in cautiously

• “I concur.” Came your quick agreement

• You made sure to avoid Alastor for a few days after that

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊✞𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ♡

Welcome to this years Kinktober festivities!! I've been working hard on all of these, so I hope you can all enjoy each and every one of them. (I'll also be pinning this post for the duration of October, so if you miss a day, you can check my blog for updates ♡)

There are also some specials in amongst the days for the lovely event my dearest friend @whatudowhennooneseesyou is hosting. So please go check her out and the event ♡♡. I hope you all are ready to sin.

♡ Every day, a new day will be revealed. So sit back, relax, and don't forget to enjoy the ride ♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Buy me a Kofi ♡

Day 1: Tit fucking [Winner Takes All]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : If you win, you get a prize...But if yeosang wins he gets to fuck your tits.

Day 2: Masturbation [My Kind Of Prize]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You couldn’t wait any longer for your boyfriend to finish the match, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Day 3: Dry humping/Clothed sex [What Was Rule One Again]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : There were rules Mingi needed to follow, but had the tendency to break them.

Day 4: Biting/Bondage [No Bark But All Bite]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : It was just an innocent game of truth of dare. Nothing bad was going to happen... Right?

Day 5: Gentle sex [Special Treatment]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your loving husband just needed some extra care, and being an amazing wife, you were more than willing to provide.

Day 6: Cock warming [Focused, I'm Focused]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Mingi finds his little mouse trying to do her exams. Too bad he needs her right now.

Day 7: Rough sex [Our Girl]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Yunho and Mingi couldn't stop thinking about you since they first tainted your beautiful body. They were craving more and lucky for them, exams just finished.

Day 8: Voyeurism [Eye's On Him]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : There was no denying that Seonghwa had always loved to watch his leaders' angel being pampered. It was his favourite past time afterall.

Day 9: Bike sex - [His His His]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were his girl, and he can take you wherever and whenever he wants.

Day 10: Thigh riding - [Sit]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You couldn't sit still the moment you started drinking. Jongho ended up dragging you home to punish you by the end of the night.

Day 11: Double penetration - [Lonely Together]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : A creature cursed to wander the earth alone, finds himself falling for a sweet little human that finds peace in the lonely forestry.

DAY 11 SPECIAL: ALIEN AU - [One With The Cosmos]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Travelling in deep space, you and your crew must deliver and pick up cargo to a jump station. Woosan is to accompany you on this mission. San being the muscle and Woo as the navigator and scientists...problem? You got lost.

Day 12:  Pussy slapping/squirting - [Just One]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You had one rule. One little rule, and you decided it was a good idea to break it.

Day 13: Getting caught - [Show Time]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You didn't expect the night to go the way it did, but who are you to complain...

Day 14: Cum play - [So Soaked]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your roommates decided to play a little game, and you were the prize.

Day 15: Oral/Fingering - [Vocal Training]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Yeosang was struggling withi is vocal range. Stressing over it, he decided he needed a snack break. Good thing he knew just the treat to eat.

Day 16: Fae/Orc - [Knight In Bloodied Armour]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Yunho was a myth amongst men. Yet here he stood, ready to protect you and take you away from the cruel life you lead... The only catch is you have to give him something in return... your hand in marriage.

DAY 16 SPECIAL: COLLARING - [Pretty Boy]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Who knew Mingi would be into collars.

Day 17: Drunk sex - [Pour Up]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Shot after shot, the night became lively by the minute. Mingi and Seonghwa were finding it increasingly hard to keep their hands off you as more alcohol ran through their system. Let's just hope they dont get caught being too handys with you by your brother...

Day 18:  Monster Under The Bed - [Guilty Confessions]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : A creature that feeds off lust and fear finds himself falling for the very prey he was supposed to consume. What a cruel twist of fate.

DAY 18 SPECIAL: BITING -[Sign On The Dotted Line]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : He had signed the dotted line for his revenge, but now, he was starting to think there could be more lying beneath his contract.

Day 19: Bath sex - [La Douleur Exquise]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You searched far and wide for the perfect spell to bring Yeosang back to the earthly plain, and now that he's here, you're gonna use your time wisely of course.

Day 20: Priest/Demon - [Sinfully Blinded]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : There was a demon on the loose. Wreaking havoc in the small village that San was a priest in. And little did Father San know is that the creature was a lot closer than he would think.

Day 21: Sex pollen - [A Blooming Mess]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : It's just one quick to your home planet. It's just one dangerous plant for collection. Nothing can go wrong, right... right?

Day 22: A/B/O - [Subtle Scents]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : He was your best friend. The only person would could trust. But yet you had kept a secret from you that would change your relationship in an instant. How would he react once he finds out?

Day 23: Masked man - [Mr. Rough And Rowdy]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You haven't seen your friends in years given you had been overseas studying. Now that you're back, you've noticed how much they've all grown. And what better to celebrate your return than an innocent party.

Day 24: Haunted Maze - [Cravings And Desires]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Wooyoung found a note about you being taken away from him. And now he'll have to play the maze in order to get his prize back.

Day 25: Angel/Worship - [Heavens Gate]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : His job was to be an observer. Do not under any circumstances interact or intervene with human lives. Oh, how he royally fucked that up.

Day 26: Vampire/bloodplay - [Exquisite]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were saved by them. Taken cared for by them. Everything you could ever ask they provided to the best of their abilities... but why?

Day 27: Pirates/Sirens - [Alluring Whispers]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Through life at sea, it's proven that anyone deserves to be loved. Even a pretty pirate and a thieving siren.

Day 28: Werewolf - [Don't You Dare]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : With Rogue's hot on the packs trail, Yunho had to make a tough decision. He needed to be able to know you could handle yourself even when you were away from him. So weekly training sessions became your new normal. But tonights training session went a little of course...

Day 29: Giants - [Dearest Husband, Darling Wife]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Being betrothed and shipped off to far away from your kingdom was the least of your worries when you saw exactly who you were marrying...

Day 30: Alien/Egg laying/breeding - [Try Me]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You husband is in need of your "person assistance"... unlucky for you, San and Wooyoung want a taste of you also.

Day 31: DND Ft. Gang Bang [To Love Is To Be One]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You want, needed to prove that you could achieve just as much greatness like the other guild members. So what better than a hunt that only you and your team can solve.

—

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

[luvdwkki]

Anniversary

Chan x gn!reader

Word count: 1951

Summary: It is your fourth anniversary with Chris! Will he remember your special day or will you have to make do all alone?

Your eyes fluttered open as the shining rays of morning sun spilt through the curtains. You instinctively reached for your phone, squinting at the screen. 6:00 AM. You let out a sigh of relief, realising you still had an hour and a half till your alarm went off. You nestled back into the warmth of the blankets, feeling Chris’s familiar form beside you.

You watched him for a moment, still amazed at the peacefulness of his face when he slept. He always seemed so much lighter in the mornings, his usual tension nowhere to be found. You brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead and snuggled against his shoulder, feeling his arm instantly wrap around your figure. You two hardly get mornings like this anymore. Everyday seemed to move around his demanding hours at the studio; your time together was more often than not reserved for late-night takeout or quick hellos and goodbyes. 

You laid in a comfortable silence as he slowly drifted awake. You wondered if he’d remember the day. You had celebrated your first anniversary with a weekend getaway, then your second and third anniversaries with special dinners and thoughtful little gifts. But in the past year, his career had really taken off, and though you were thrilled for him, you had noticed the hours he spent at the studio growing longer, his mind wandering further from home. 

“Morning already?” Chris mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion. 

“Not yet,” you whispered. “We still have some time.” 

“Good,” he murmured, pulling you closer and nuzzling his face into the side of your neck. You both laid there, drifting in and out of sleep, comfortable in the familiar warmth of each other’s presence. It felt like a small luxury. A rare, unrushed morning just for the two of you. 

Eventually, the vibrations of his phone rang throughout the room, the first reminder of his busy day ahead. A groan left his lips as he reached over to silence it. 

“What's on your schedule today?” You asked, already sure of the answer. 

“Studio, studio, and more studio.” He chuckled, stretching his arms. “We’re wrapping up a new album, so it’s all hands on deck.” 

“Sounds intense,” you said softly, hiding your disappointment. “Guess I'll see you later tonight?” 

“Yeah, I'll probably be back late.” He glanced over at you, a small crease forming between his eyebrows. “But hey, let’s do something soon… Maybe get out of the city? Just us.” 

A smile tugged at your face, feeling just a flicker of hope. “I’d like that.” 

With a final sigh, you both got out of bed. Chris threw on a pair of sweatpants along with a black hoodie, wandering into the kitchen as you headed towards the bathroom to wash up. By the time you joined him, he was already sitting at the counter, toast in one hand and his phone in the other, scrolling through the endless amount of emails. 

You poured yourself a cup of tea, watching him from across the kitchen, wondering if he would say anything about your anniversary. You didn’t exactly want to bring it up; you wanted it to be something that he remembered on his own. As he ate the last bit of his toast, it was clear he was already mentally at the studio, immersed in the day ahead. 

“Chris,” you said, arm reaching for the small box you had left on the counter. “Before you go...” you handed it to him, smiling as his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“What’s this?” he asked, taking the box into his arms. 

“Just something to get you through the day,” you explained. “Open it when you get to the studio, okay? And text me when you do!” 

A grin spread across his face as his eyes stared deeply into yours. “You’re amazing, you know that?” He leaned in for a quick peck on your cheek, giving your hand a nice squeeze before he grabbed his bad. “See you tonight?” 

You nodded with a small, heartfelt smile, giving him a small wave as he walked out the door, leaving you alone in the stillness of your apartment. 

At the studio, Chris was finally able to sit down, remembering the box that was hidden inside his bag. He opened it with a slight smile, finding a stack of neatly tied envelopes inside. Each one was labelled with a number and time. Curiosity sparked, making him shoot you a quick text. 

Chris: Hey, just opened the box. What’s all this? 

You replied almost immediately. 

Y/n: Open the first one now. Then, every hour, open the next. It’s just something to remind you of us. I love you.” 

Intrigued, he opened the first letter. 

Letter 1: 

“Chris, remember the day we met? You walked into the coffee shop I worked at, juggling your phone, a bag, and what looked like half the contents of your car. You nearly tripped on the door frame, and I thought I should probably come over to help. Instead, you just laughed, looked right at me, and said, ‘I think the universe is trying to tell me I need a coffee!’ I felt the pink rush over my face as we made eye contact, and right then, I knew you were the kind of person who could turn anything around. You made me laugh before I even knew your name! I love that about you.” 

Chris chuckled to himself, the blood rushing to his cheeks as he read the words slowly, savouring the memory. You had always remembered your first meeting in a way that made it seem like it was destiny. He found himself lingering over your words, feeling a sense of warmth that he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

By 10:00 AM, he was already looking forward to the next letter. He opened it eagerly the second the clock struck. 

Letter 2:

“Our first road trip! I was so anxious, afraid we’d gotten lost, but you just cranked up the music and said, ‘What’s life without a little adventure?’ We ended up dancing in the rain when we stopped for gas. I can still remember the blood rushing through my veins with the way your hands felt on my waist as you spun me around hehe. You remember, right? I felt like I could be myself with you. You have always made me feel like I could be myself with you. You have always made me feel like the world was full of possibilities.” 

He smiled, remembering the wild freedom of that trip and how you both had gotten drenched but didn't care. You had always been the one to bring out his playful side, grounding him in those little moments that felt like they’d last forever. 

Every hour, your letters transported him back to another piece of your shared history, each one crafted with love and a thoughtfulness that struck his heart deeply. 11:00 AM reminded him of the night you said you loved him for the first time; you then stayed up talking till the sun was directly above you. 12:00 PM was about your first anniversary and how he had whisked you away on a surprise weekend trip just to see you smile. 

With each letter, your memories brought him closer to the man he’d been when you two first fell in love. The day slipped away as he moved from one letter to the next, each memory digging up a part of himself he’d left behind in the rush of his career. He had realised how much you had been there for him, every step of the way, always supportive, always patient.  

By the time 9:00 PM rolled around, Chris was lost in thoughts of you. His heart ached with a newfound appreciation as he reached for the final letter, opening it with a big smile, expecting one last beautiful memory. 

Letter 12: 

“Chris, I can’t believe it’s already been four years. Time has flown by, and yet, I feel like I've known you my whole life. You’ve been my rock, my best friend, and my greatest love. From our first coffee shop meeting to our midnight dance parties in the kitchen, I have truly loved every single moment. You’ve made me feel so seen, so loved, and so endlessly grateful for us. 

I know sometimes life pulls us in a million directions, but what matters most is that we have each other through everything. Thank you for loving me, for always protecting me, for always making me smile, and for being you. I love you. Happy Anniversary, Chris” 

He froze as he read the last sentence, your worlds settling over him like a bittersweet warmth. Your anniversary. He had completely forgotten. 

How could I have forgotten? He thought. His heart sank with a pang of guilt and longing. He grabbed his things and quickly left the studio, stopping by the convenience store to get a bouquet. He hurried home, a proud smile on his lips and a chest tight with anticipation. He was ready to tell you just how much you meant to him, to celebrate your love and make up for lost time. 

His hand twitched with excitement as he put the key through the hole. The darkness of your apartment was the first thing that welcomed him home, but the sight was not unusual as he had grown accustomed to being met with silence due to his work hours. He flicked on the light before noticing a single envelope that laid on the kitchen counter. His heart raced with this new level of fondness as he picked up the very last letter. His eyes quickly scan your handwriting. 

“Chris, you’ve been the music of my life, filling the quiet spaces with laughter and dreams. I cannot find the words to express just how deep my love runs for you...” 

His smile was now bigger than ever, the pink blush creeping up on his face once again before he read the next line.

“But somewhere along the way, I lost parts of myself. I've waited and hoped and begged, but I've realised that I have to find my own rhythm now. Chris, I'll always love you, but it’s time I found out who I am without you. So I'm letting you go. This is goodbye, Chris. I hope someday you'll understand.” 

He felt the words cut through him like a blade. His pulse pounded in his ears as he re-read your words over and over again, desperately looking for any sign that it was some sick joke. He looked up towards your bedroom, the paper trembling in his hands, disbelief washing over him. The flowers fell to the floor as he rushed to your bedroom, his stumbling feet betraying his true wish. His hands quivered as he reached to turn the knob. 

Inside, he found a room that had been stripped bare of your things. Everything of yours that had once rested in there so comfortably, so pleasantly, so rightfully, was now missing. All that remained was a single teddy bear, the one he had given you on your second date, sitting alone in the middle of the bed. 

Chris sank down, gripping the bear tightly against his chest, the tears trickling from his eyes and his heart heavy with a crushing emptiness. All those letters you had written for him, all the love you had poured into your words, they had been your way of saying goodbye. A final gift from the person who had once filled his life with light, and now, in the silence, he finally realised what he had lost, although all too late.

Hey guys! This is my first ever fic and im lowkey scared to post it but whatevs. Not sure how to feel about it tbh so pls dont be shy to lmk how you found it 😭 Oh and please do tell me if you find a mistake somewhere!

[chosows]

"AM I DOING GOOD?"

YOUR OBSESSED LOSER BOYFRIEND

Choso x Fem Reader

Summary: Choso just can’t seem to get enough of you. To him, you’re the only woman worthy of his time—the only woman he’ll ever look at so intimately. When you’re at work, he struggles to cope with your lack of company, becoming desperate for your attention when you aren’t around. Every day he awaits your return impatiently—craving your familiar touch.

Word count: 2.5k

Contains: Submissive Choso, established relationship, masturbation, interrupted masturbation, begging, teasing, no protection, penetrative, cowgirl, missionary, cumshots, creampie

Audio: i based this on this audio from a request. full credits to the VA for inspo

Note: need to write more one shots like this ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

Left alone in the bedroom, Choso grumbles. The past few hours have been spent aimlessly flipping through TV stations; there is nothing to satiate his boredom. He wants one thing and one thing only—you. He flooded your phone with messages, receiving no response since you’re likely making your way home from work. Time couldn’t tick by any slower.

Rolling onto his side, the open drawer full of your panties catches his attention. Choso pierces his lips together, his mind wandering to picture you in your lingerie—thinking about how sexy you look when you tease him, sending him all those naughty pictures when he’s the one at work. The ones he saves to his gallery in a special folder just for you; two albums have your name, one inaccessible without a passcode.

Grabbing a pair, he balls them up into his hand and throws himself back on the mattress, admiring them in the air. A black lace set, simple but equally as seductive. He lowers them to his face, cursing himself for his perverted ways as he sniffs, only to be disappointed by the smell of laundry detergent. No one could miss pussy more than he does; his dick throbs at the thought of your taste when you guide his head, holding him down while he eats you out.

Unable to contain himself, he fumbles with his zipper and pulls his dick from his underpants, his tip sensitive to the touch. Using your panties for added stimulation, he begins stroking himself, wishing it were you touching him. Sometimes, he wishes he wasn’t so obsessed with you—it’s beginning to interfere with his life; deep down, he knows he’d live no other way. You’re the only thought in his head; he’d do anything for you—the possibilities are endless.

Since you’re not home, he’s free to be as loud as he wants. His moans leave his mouth as his head lolled back, letting himself get lost in the endless fantasies his mind curated of you. You enter through the door and take your shoes off, humming the tune to the song playing through your headphones while you walk through to the living room. When you call Choso’s name, he doesn’t reply and your brows pinch together.

“Baby? Are you home?” You call out again, hearing clattering coming from the bedroom.

“M’ here. Wait—” The floorboards creak as you approach the bedroom and he panics, covering himself carelessly as the door swings open.

“I missed you so much!” You beam at him and walk over, holding his head in your hands while cuddling him to your chest.

“Missed you too.” He mumbles, his dick twitching from the material of the blanket rubbing him the wrong way.

“Are you okay? You look pale.” You pull your lips to one side and put your hand on his forehead, slicking his hair back, “You don’t have a fever.”

“I’m okay, just sleepy.” He smiles, his eyes innocent despite the deceit—he’s not tired at all.

“You’re always sleepy.” You hum, pressing your forehead to his. Your gaze lowers, noticing him swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

“Not always.”

“Your cheeks are rosy.” Your thumb strokes over his smooth skin, unaware of the situation under the blanket that he is desperately attempting to conceal.

“You’re so beautiful.” He chokes on his words when you straddle him, your ass directly on top of his hardly-covered dick.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It’s—” He grits his teeth, turning his head to the side, “—Nothing. I told you I’m fine.”

“What’s this?” Underneath the blanket covering him is a slip of fabric. Before he could stop you, you reel it out and reveal your panties.

“I swear I can explain, please.” He whines, grabbing your hand while you stare down at him. You don’t speak, giving him the approval to justify his actions.

“I just wanted to feel you. I missed you so much; I need you so fucking bad.” His eyes were wide, a soft glimmer possessing them while his hands rubbed up and down your hips.

“How long have you been jerking off in my panties?”

“A few weeks—”

You flash a stern glare at him and he huffs, squeezing your fingers while they intertwine with his.

“I know, I’m sorry. Please, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You’re so needy, you know?” Your voice lowers, bundling his shirt as you draw him closer to you. He couldn’t handle being touch-starved for much longer and cracked, connecting his lips with yours.

While you intended to go for a controlled approach, Choso was sloppy, dragging you down with him while his lips assaulted yours. All his pent-up sexual frustration is revealing itself, his tongue meeting with yours in an instant. Despite not being touched, this was all he needed to orgasm, whimpering pathetically into your mouth as he cums all over himself. You pull back and remove the blanket, seeing the trail shot up his lower abdomen and shirt.

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” He murmurs, grabbing onto your face with both hands, “I’ve been a good boy for you.”

“You’ve been perfect.” Your lips twist up, “Only you could cum all over yourself like this. You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“All yours. Only yours.” He hastily replies, grinning right back at you.

“I think it’s only right that a good boyfriend deserves a treat, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“You’ve made such a mess.” You toss the now dirty blanket onto the floor, helping him out of his shirt and boxers.

“I’ll clean it all up later, I promise.”

“Thank you, baby.” You kiss his cheek and pull away, only to feel his grip on your forearm tighten.

“Where are you going?” He whines, tugging you back as you stumble forward.

“I’m going to get changed.”

“No.” He lets his head roll back, his cheeks lit with a red flush, highlighting his dire need for your attention, “I need you now.”

“No?” You cock your head slightly askew, his demanding words catching you off guard.

“You haven’t touched me in ages.”

“You’re going to have to wait, Choso. I won’t be long.”

“Please don’t leave the room; you can do it here. I want to see your pretty body.”

“Let’s make a deal, okay?” You brush your hair away from your face and he nods, “I want you to get yourself off until I’m ready and I’ll stay in the room. Can you do that for me?”

“Am I allowed to cum?”

“What fun would it be if you cum again before I get my hands on you?”

“Okay, I won’t. Don’t make me wait forever.” Choso lets go of you, watching you waltz over to the laundry basket.

His eyes linger on your figure as you strip out of your clothes, using his previous spill of cum as lubricant. It was hard to remain silent, his moans muffled due to him forcing his mouth shut. There is no shame left in him as his body twitches, the sight of you from behind leaving him tearing at the skin on his lips. He was overstimulated, hornier than he was previously—but he never gave up. His body knew you were what he craved—likely the only thing providing him the stamina to keep going.

You grin while your back is facing him, hearing the soft noises he makes while he strokes himself to the thoughts playing in his mind. You glance back, noticing him divert his eyes, his hand trembling due to the repeated motions. Though cruel, you want to see how long you can make him wait. Choso always cums quickly, but he’s the type of man that wants to cum multiple times until he gets everything out of his system—until he knows that he has pleased you. If necessary, he’d continue until his eyes are forced shut.

His heavy breathing increases, his big amber eyes begging you to turn around and place your hands all over him. Under the muffled sounds of his whimpers, he calls for you, his voice too weak for you to register from the distance you’re at. He knows you’re doing this to him on purpose, turning him on as his pitch rises an octave, his whines now desperate cries for attention. You unclasp your bra, slinging it aside, then slowly step out of your panties. His face lights up, a gleaming smile displayed as his hands proceed to tremble.

“Are you ready?” He gasps in between his words, eagerly awaiting you to spin around and join him on the mattress.

“Not yet.”

“You said— We had a deal.” He almost sounds hurt, as if he took the betrayal to heart, “I’m going to cum— You know I can’t last—”

“Relax, Choso. I’m teasing.” You chuckle, spinning around and closing the distance, “You can stop now. You did so well.”

“Did I?” His sticky hand leeches onto yours, “I thought you’d be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I keep sending you inappropriate messages while you’re at work and I steal your panties.” He utters. He feels ashamed at how attached he is to you—many of your friends have commented on his clingy behaviour.

“I like your little messages; I think they’re cute—the pictures too.”

“Yeah? You like them?”

“I love them; you look so pretty in the videos. Got the most handsome face I’ve ever seen, haven’t you?”

“I’ll send you more. You make me this way—I’m so horny. I get so excited for you to come home every day.”

“I can see that.” Your eyes drift down to his dick, wrapping your hand around it, grazing against the veins that decorate it. “All of this because of me, I’m flattered.”

“All for you. I love you so much.” Choso tugs you forward, making sure he’s able to hold you in the kiss so you can’t break free this time.

His lips were soft; you could feel his smirk pressed against you while you shuffled closer. He adored kissing you; exploring every inch of you is a blessing to him. He pulls back and shifts your hips, lining his tip up with your entrance. The moment he’s been waiting for all day is finally in his hands, the greatest privilege he has been gifted in life.

“I can’t wait to feel you. I’m going to make you feel so good.” He mutters, dotting kisses down your arm while you lower yourself onto him, “So good. I’ll make you cum, I swear.”

“Quiet down, Choso.” You snicker, his pupils blown out as he bottoms out inside of you.

“Oh fuck, ‘so tight,” Since he can’t tone it down, you put your hand over his mouth. You silence his moans, barely doing enough to dull the volume.

Your day at work drained you; you don’t have enough energy to remain on top for long, growing exhausted only after the first few minutes have passed. Choso recognises your lack of energy and rolls over, allowing you to lie down. When you give him this opportunity, he makes sure he doesn’t disappoint you. He inches back into you, setting the pace to his liking, carefully analysing your facial expressions.

“Please talk to me.” He grunts, reaching forward to stroke your face.

“You’re doing so well—just like that.” Your eyes flutter shut as his tip massages a point deep within you, stimulating your G-spot. From the look on his face, it’s as though he is awestruck by you; none of this is new to him, he just can’t get over how gorgeous you are.

“Are you close?” He’s aware that it’s early on, but this has been prolonged for him—he’s already at his point of release.

“Not yet.”

“Fuck— I don’t know how much longer I can last.”

“You can do it, Choso. Do it for me.”

“I’m trying. M’ trying, but it’s so hard—”

“Keep yourself there.” You readjust your position, raising your hips slightly while he secures you in place.

“Here? Should I press down?” He rubs his hand on your lower abdomen, applying pressure to aid your pleasure, “Look at you— You’re so pretty. You’re going to be mine forever, aren’t you?”

“Forever.” You mumble your words, repeating them as the satisfaction begins to take over your rational thinking.

“Can you feel this?” He says in a proud tone while his fingers circle around your clit, building your climax rapidly, “Am I doing it right?”

“Mhm’, that’s it.” Your breath hitches, muscles tightening due to the stimulation, “That’s it, Choso.”

“I’m holding out for you,” The atmosphere was filled with heavy breathing and the sound of skin slapping, “Please don’t be mad if I cum.”

“Just a little more.”

“I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.” His voice was raspy, barely able to get his words out. “I love how you take care of me. I love how good our sex is—”

“And— Those other people,” He pants, glaring directly into your eyes, “Who said I wasn’t enough for you were wrong, weren't they? I’m so good for you.”

“You’re more than enough for me.”

“Not every man has to pretend to be emotionless. They’re so jealous because I’m the one you wanted.” He plants his lips on your neck, leaving a soft trail of pecks leading down to your chest, “I’m going to give you everything, going to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

Choso comes undone inside of you, his whimpers flowing while his cum spurts out, filling you up just as he had anticipated. He continues to thrust, making sure you have the opportunity to finish despite him being close to passing out from the overstimulation. His hands are groping your breasts, sliding all over your body, doing anything he can to help you.

“Please cum, please,” He whispers his plea, his breath fanning onto your neck, “I want you to cum for me.”

“Yes— Oh shit,” He laughs in between gasps, not expecting his words to have an effect, “You’re so tight around me.”

Locking with his innocent eyes, you break, losing your composure as your orgasm reigns over your body. Choso is struggling to speak, his words coming out in hiccups while he continues—unable to stop himself. He pulls out of you and shoots cum all over your stomach, letting his drained body fall beside yours. Tonight, he made a mess much bigger than he ever had before, his head spinning while his body regains energy.

“I really needed this.” Choso turns, noticing the sweet expression on your face as you gaze at him.

“I love you too; I forgot to say it back.” You beam over at him while your chest heaves, your body sticky with both sweat and cum, a combination that becomes irritating as time passes.

“Give me a minute and I’ll clean everything up like I promised.” He pecks your cheek, pleased with himself for the state you’re in. Usually, you prefer to be the one in charge of aftercare—you don’t have the heart to stop him as he seems so ecstatic with his performance. “Do you want a fresh set of lingerie or my boxers and a shirt?”

“Boxers and a shirt, please.”