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sixeyesonathiel · 17 days ago

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the spoils of sanctity

pairing — holy knight gojo x demon princess reader

cw: heavy dubcon, noncon elements, yandere themes, power imbalance, explicit sexual content (oral sex—forced fellatio, penetrative sex—vaginal, tail play, cock slapping, clit slapping, nipple play, edging, multiple orgasms, creampie, breeding kink, cervix penetration, sex positions—kneeling oral, bent-over doggy style, missionary with hips tilted, folded missionary, face-down doggy, pinned missionary, cowgirl), brat taming, dacryphilia, degradation/humiliation, corruption/dumbification, mind break, forced submission, public humiliation mentions, restraint/bondage (sashes, choker enchantment), asphyxiation (throat squeezing during oral), size kink, sadism, perverted behavior, religious sacrilege (mock prayers, holy/demonic themes), pseudo-marital dynamics (trophy wife as a literal prized possession), 18+ only, minors DNI. 10k+ wc.

a/n : damn. i may have written satoru here a lil too freaky.

the war had torn the world apart, kingdoms reduced to ash and bone, and satoru, the holy knight, stood as its shining fucking savior. the people wept at his feet, praising his blessed sword, his sanctified armor, his pure goddamn soul. they thought he’d dragged you—the demon princess, half-human spawn of filth and pride—back to the palace to purge the evil from your veins. to correct you. to save the world from your clawed, defiant existence.

they were wrong.

so fucking wrong.

behind the palace walls, he wasn’t saving shit. he was breaking you. claiming you. turning you into his collared little trophy wife, a prize he’d won with blood and steel. the world saw mercy in his grip on your leash. you saw the truth: a perverted freak who got off on your humiliation, who wanted to fuck the humanity into your demon half until you cracked.

his private chambers smelled like wax and sin, the air thick with the flicker of sanctified gold candles lining the walls. their light danced over the stone, over the tattered remains of your finery—black silk shredded at the thighs, clinging to your sweat-slick skin like a second hide. your wrists burned where the ceremonial sashes bit into them, the same ones that had once bound saints, now twisted to tether you to the floor. he’d repurposed them with a smirk, his big hands tugging the knots tight, like he was wrapping a fucking gift.

satoru loomed over you, all white hair and sharp blue eyes, his armor shed to reveal the taut muscle beneath a thin tunic. holy knight, my ass. he looked like a predator playing dress-up, and you were the prey he’d been salivating over since the battlefield. your tail twitched behind you, black and forked, a little rebellion against the restraints. he noticed. of course he fucking noticed.

“still got some fight in you, huh?” his voice was low, mocking, as he crouched down, fingers brushing the edge of your jaw. “thought i’d beaten that out of you by now, princess.”

you bared your teeth, a snarl ripping from your throat. “i’ll claw your fucking eyes out, you sanctimonious prick.”

he laughed—deep, filthy, and it made your stomach twist in a way you hated. “oh, i’d love to see you try. but first—” he reached into a velvet pouch at his hip, pulling out the choker. it glowed faintly, a thin band of silver etched with runes, pulsing with some holy enchantment that made your skin crawl. “—let’s get you dressed up proper.”

you jerked back, but the sashes held firm, yanking a hiss from your lips. “don’t you fucking dare—”

too late. his hands were fast, wrapping the choker around your throat, the clasp clicking shut with a sound that echoed in your skull. the enchantment hit instantly—your demonic power dulled, a heavy fog settling over the fire in your veins. but that wasn’t the worst part. no, the worst part was the way it fucking glowed, a soft pulse of light that brightened when your body betrayed you. and it was already flickering, damn it, because his fingers lingered on your neck, brushing the sensitive skin there, and you couldn’t stop the heat pooling low in your gut.

he stepped back, tilting his head like he was admiring a painting. “look at that glow, princess. you’re already begging—and i haven’t even touched you.”

“fuck you,” you spat, cheeks burning as the choker pulsed brighter. you hated it—hated him—hated the way your thighs clenched under his stare.

“oh, i will.” he grinned, all teeth and perversion, then grabbed your tail in one swift yank. the jolt shot through you like lightning, a gasp tearing out before you could stop it. your body arched, writhing against the sashes, and he tightened his grip, tugging just hard enough to make you squirm. “sensitive there, huh? perfect.”

you wanted to rip his throat out. instead, you glared, panting, the choker glowing like a fucking beacon. he watched it pulse, his eyes darkening with something sick and hungry, and then he moved. one arm slid under your back, the other under your knees, hoisting you up bridal-style like some twisted mockery of a wedding night. your tail lashed against his chest, but he just chuckled, carrying you across the room with infuriating ease.

“put me down, you bastard—” your words cut off as he dropped you, not gently, onto your knees. the stone bit into your skin, cold and unforgiving, and you glared up at him, chest heaving.

he didn’t say a word. just smirked, stepping back to grab something from the edge of the room—a mirror, tall and angled, dragging it over until it faced you dead-on. your reflection stared back: disheveled, flushed, the choker glowing like a neon fucking sign.

the candles flickered as he adjusted the mirror, the scrape of its base against the floor loud in the tense silence. you stayed on your knees, the sashes still binding your wrists behind you, your tail flicking uselessly against the stone. every muscle screamed to lunge at him, to sink your claws into that smug face, but the choker’s enchantment weighed you down, dulling your strength to something pitifully human. it pissed you off. he pissed you off. and yet, your body was buzzing, the heat from his touch still lingering, the choker’s glow a constant reminder of how fucked you were.

he didn’t rush. he savored it, peeling off his tunic slow enough to make you twitch with impatience, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the faint scars crisscrossing his skin—proof he wasn’t just some prissy knight playing hero. he was a fighter, a killer, and now he was your goddamn captor. the pants came next, sliding down his hips, and you couldn’t help it—your eyes flicked to the bulge straining his undercloth, thick and heavy, and the choker pulsed brighter. fuck. he caught it, of course, his grin widening as he stepped closer, cock springing free when he shoved the fabric down.

“like what you see, princess?” he taunted, fisting himself lazily, the tip already glistening. “don’t worry, you’ll get a real good taste.”

you snarled, baring your teeth again. “i’d rather choke on glass.”

“cute.” he closed the distance, towering over you, the mirror framing the whole filthy scene—your knees on the stone, his shadow swallowing you whole. “but you’re gonna choke on this instead.”

you fought the urge to vomit, glaring up, defiance blazing in your chest, lips sealed tight, jaw clenched. no fucking way you were giving him this. not without a fight.

“open up,” he said, voice all smooth mockery, like he was coaxing a stray dog. “don’t make me ask twice, princess.”

“make me,” you shot back, flashing your fangs, a bratty snarl curling your lips. your tail flicked behind you, smacking the floor, and his eyes gleamed—dark, perverted, like he’d been waiting for that exact answer.

“oh, i will,” he said, and he moved—fast as hell. one hand clamped your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open just enough, and the other swung his cock down, slapping it against your cheek with a wet, humiliating smack. your head jerked, a snarl caught in your throat, and the choker flared bright, glowing like a fucking spotlight in the mirror.

he did it again—harder, the head smearing pre-cum across your skin, the sound echoing sharp and filthy. your eyes watered, not from pain but from the sheer rage boiling up, tears welling up as you glared, unblinking, refusing to let them fall.

“look at that,” he purred, leaning down, breath hot against your ear. “tears already? didn’t know demons could get so worked up.” his thumb brushed the corner of your eye, smearing the dampness, and you snapped your teeth at him, missing by an inch. he laughed—low, nasty, and it made your stomach twist.

“you’re not a princess anymore,” he growled, straightening up, fisting his cock right in front of you. “you’re my wife. say it.”

“fuck. you,” you hissed, voice dripping venom, tears brimming but holding, your glare cutting through the haze. the choker glowed brighter, betraying the heat pooling low in your gut, and he grinned, all teeth and sick delight.

“wrong answer,” he said, and then he shoved himself in—no warning, no buildup, just the thick, hot length of him filling your mouth, hitting the back of your throat so fast you gagged hard. your eyes widened, tears welling hotter, stinging as you fought to breathe, your throat spasming around him. he groaned, deep and guttural, like it was the best fucking thing he’d ever felt, and his hand fisted in your hair, yanking the sash tied there, pulling tight enough to make your scalp burn.

“that’s it,” he grunted, hips rocking slow at first, dragging it out, letting you feel every inch. “take it, you nasty demon slut. choke on your holy knight.”

you did—fuck, you couldn’t stop it. your throat clenched, spit dripping down your chin, and every gag made him thrust deeper, harder, picking up speed until your head spun. the tears wouldn’t stay back now, pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision, but you glared through them, locking onto his face—his smug, perverted grin, the way his blue eyes drank in every twitch, every flinch. he slid his free hand down, fingers wrapping around your throat, pressing the choker into your skin, cutting off your air just enough to make your chest tighten.

“can’t breathe, huh?” he cooed, voice dripping with fake sympathy as he squeezed tighter, fucking your throat with a rhythm that left you dizzy. “poor little half-breed, choking on my cock. just relax—let it happen. i’ll take care of you.”

you gagged again, harder, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, and the tears brimmed over, not falling yet, just sitting there, heavy and hot, as you glared up at him, defiant even with your air gone. your tail lashed out, smacking his thigh, and he tightened his grip, cutting off more, his thumb stroking the glowing choker like it was a toy.

“keep fighting,” he rasped, voice rough with lust, hips snapping faster. “makes it better when you break. look at those eyes—fuck, you’re gorgeous like this, all teary and pissed.”

your lungs burned, your throat raw, every thrust making you gag louder, wetter, until your vision swam. he talked you through it, nasty and low—“breathe when i let you, slut. yeah, just like that, gag on it, let me feel that throat”—and you hated how your body reacted, hated the slick pooling between your thighs, the choker pulsing wild and bright like a damn beacon. he groaned again, louder, his grip on your hair tightening, and then he pushed deeper—nose pressed to his pelvis, air completely gone, holding you there as your throat spasmed helplessly.

“fuck, yes,” he growled, watching your eyes, the tears trembling but not spilling, your glare still burning through the haze. “look at you, choking so pretty. holy salvation’s too much for you, huh?”

you wanted to claw his face off. wanted to scream, bite, anything—but all you could do was glare, tears welling thicker, chest heaving as he finally eased up, pulling back just enough to let you suck in a ragged, desperate breath. spit strung from your lips to his cock, and he smirked, wiping it with his thumb, smearing it across your cheek.

“aw, poor thing,” he said, sarcastic as hell, when you coughed, gasping, throat wrecked. “can’t take it? too bad—i’m not done.” he shoved back in, slower this time, dragging it out, letting you feel every inch as he fucked your mouth again, hand still on your throat, squeezing light then hard, playing with your air like a game. “cry for me, princess. let me see those tears fall.”

they didn’t—fuck him, you wouldn’t let them to—but they sat there, heavy and defiant, as you gagged and glared, the choker glowing so bright it lit up the mirror behind you. your reflection showed it all: your wrecked face, his cock stretching your lips, the sashes binding you tight. his breaths grew ragged, his thrusts sloppy, and then he came—hot, thick, spilling down your throat in pulses you couldn’t escape. he held you there, choking you through it, forcing you to swallow every drop, his fingers digging into your neck as he groaned, long and filthy.

“good girl,” he purred, pulling out slow, a string of spit and cum connecting your lips to his tip. “look at you, all messy and fucked out.” he wiped your mouth with his hand, smearing it more, and you coughed, gasping, the taste of him bitter and overwhelming. your eyes burned, tears still welling but not falling, and you glared up, chest heaving, tail twitching uselessly behind you.

he didn’t give you a second to recover—just hauled you up by the arms, your legs wobbling, weak from kneeling, and threw you over his shoulder like a sack. your tail dangled against his back, smacking him weakly, and the mirror caught it: your flushed, teary-eyed glare, his smug grin, the choker still glowing faintly as he carried you off, ready to break you more.

the room spun as he carried you, the candles flickering low, wax dripping onto the stone like little tears he couldn’t wring from you. your throat ached, raw and bruised, spit and cum still slick on your chin, and those damn tears sat heavy in your eyes, stinging but stubborn, refusing to spill.

your tail flicked against his back, a weak protest he ignored, and your wrists burned where the sashes dug in, your body buzzing with rage and something darker—something the choker wouldn’t let you hide. he crossed the room in long strides, the mirror looming ahead, and then he dropped you—hard—onto your knees, the stone biting into your skin. you hissed, tail lashing out to smack his leg, and he laughed, kicking your thighs apart with his boot, setting you up for the next round.

the mirror threw it all back at you—your knees pressed into the cold stone, your flushed face staring back, hair wild, the choker glowing like a fucking spotlight around your throat. your tattered silk hung off you in shreds, barely covering shit, and satoru loomed behind you, all muscle and menace, his tunic long gone, scars crisscrossing his chest like some holy warrior’s badge. but there was nothing holy about the way his hands slid down to grip your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises, or the way he tore the silk aside with one rough yank, exposing your ass and the dripping mess between your legs. the air hit your skin, sharp and humiliating, and he groaned low in his throat, like he’d just unwrapped a goddamn present he couldn’t wait to ruin.

“look at that,” he muttered, voice crude and thick, one hand sliding up to grab your tail, yanking it hard enough to make you yelp. the jolt shot through you, your body jerking, and tears welled up fast, hot and heavy in your eyes as you glared at him in the mirror. “already soaked for me, huh? some fucking demon princess you are—dripping like a cheap whore. you sure you’re not some lowly succubus?”

“die,” you snarled, twisting against his grip, claws scraping the stone, but he tightened his hold, pulling your tail up and back, forcing your hips to tilt for him. the choker pulsed violently, glowing brighter with every ounce of heat pooling in your core, and he laughed—dark, filthy, leaning down until his breath ghosted your ear, all teeth and sick delight.

“nah, you don’t get to talk back, slut,” he said, crude as hell for a holy knight, his free hand grabbing his cock—thick, heavy, way too fucking big—and lining it up, the head brushing your entrance, teasing, not pushing in yet. “you’re gonna thank me for this. every thrust—say it. say thank you, or i’ll leave you here, leaking and desperate.”

“like hell—” your words choked off as he slammed into you, no warning, no mercy, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. your scream bounced off the walls, raw and ragged, your body jolting forward until your palms slapped the stone, claws digging in hard. fuck, he was huge—too huge—stretching you so wide it burned, splitting you open, and the tears brimmed thicker, stinging your eyes as you glared at him, refusing to let them spill.

“say it,” he growled, hips snapping against your ass, the wet slap of skin on skin loud and obscene. he grabbed your tail tighter, using it like a goddamn leash to yank you back onto him, each thrust deeper, harder, his cock hitting spots that made your vision blur. “thank me, princess, or i’ll stop right now.”

you only gritted your teeth, stubborn, claws raking the floor, defiance burning even as your body shook under him. he stopped—dead still, cock buried so deep you felt it in your guts, the sudden lack of motion making you twitch, your breath hitching. “no? fine. then you don’t get shit,” he said, voice low and mocking, his hand sliding up to press your face against the mirror, smearing your cheek into the glass, your hot breath fogging it up.

“you bastard—” you started, but he pulled your tail again, sharp and punishing, and thrust once—hard, slow, dragging it out—before stopping again. your eyes fluttered, tears welling hotter, the choker glowing so bright it lit up your wrecked reflection—hair tangled, lips parted, those damn tears welling up as you glared.

“say it,” he repeated, voice dark and dangerous, his cock twitching inside you, teasing you with how full you felt. “or i’ll leave you like this, dripping and empty, with that pretty little choker telling everyone what a needy slut you are.”

you hated him—hated the smug tilt of his mouth, the way his blue eyes glittered with perverted glee, drinking in your teary glare like it was fucking wine. but your body was screaming, aching, and the words clawed their way out, bitter and sharp. “thank you,” you muttered, barely audible, venom dripping from every syllable.

“louder,” he snapped, thrusting again, slow and deliberate, dragging his massive cock out then back in, making you feel every inch. “mean it, or i’ll fuck you dry and leave you begging.”

“thank you!” you spat, louder, the humiliation burning hotter than the stretch, your tears trembling on the edge as you glared at him in the mirror. he grinned, satisfied, and then he let loose—fucking you rough and relentless, each thrust shoving you harder against the mirror, your cheek pressed tight, your breath fogging the glass in quick, desperate pants.

“look at you,” he purred, voice dripping with sarcasm, his hand sliding down to grip your hip while the other tugged your tail rhythmically, matching his brutal pace. “being good for once. my holy cock’s ruining you, huh? turning you into my perfect little cocksleeve.”

you couldn’t answer—couldn’t think—your body shaking under the onslaught, the choker glowing like a damn star as he pounded into you. the mirror showed it all: your ass bouncing with every thrust, your tail twitching in his grip, your flushed face with those tears welling up, defiant and furious. he leaned down, teeth grazing your shoulder, and his voice turned crude, nasty, a holy knight gone feral.

“what if your subjects saw you now, huh?” he growled, thrusting harder, his cock stretching you so wide it hurt in the best fucking way. “their proud little princess, ass up, choking on the dick of the knight who slayed her father for mercy. bet they’d love to see you crying for it—tears all pretty, pussy leaking like a tavern wench.”

“shut—up,” you gasped, voice breaking, the tears trembling heavier now, your glare sharpening even as your body betrayed you, clenching around him. he groaned at that, loud and filthy, his hand sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your head so you had to watch yourself—watch him fuck you into the stone.

“nah, i’d parade you like this,” he said, crude and gleeful, his cock slamming in so deep you swore you felt it in your throat. “show ‘em how their haughty little half-demon queen takes it—tail yanked, choker glowing, all teary-eyed and fucked stupid. they’d bow to me instead, huh?”

your claws dug into the stone, scraping hard, and you tried to crawl away—knees scraping, tail lashing, anything to escape the heat, the shame, the way his words made you throb despite yourself.

satoru only yanked your tail hard, pulling you back with a growl, his cock grinding in deep, holding you there. “oh no you don’t,” he said, breath hot against your neck, teeth nipping your skin. “you don’t get to run from this.”

he shifted, one hand sliding under you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast and rough while he fucked you, and the tears welled thicker, your glare burning through the mirror as your body tensed. “cry for me,” he muttered, voice low and nasty, his thrusts slowing but hitting harder, deeper, his dick so big it felt like it was rearranging you. “let me see those tears, princess—gimme something to jerk off to later.”

“fucking pervert,” you rasped, voice raw, the tears trembling on the edge, your hips bucking despite yourself as he worked you closer, the heat coiling tight, so fucking tight. he laughed, crude and dark, his fingers relentless, his cock grinding in just right, and you felt it—the edge, right there, your whole body shaking, the choker glowing blindingly bright.

“gonna cum already?” he taunted, leaning down, licking a stripe up your neck, his voice a filthy whisper. “thought you were tougher than that, demon slut. go on—thank me again. louder.”

“thank you,” you choked out, half-snarl, half-moan, the tears trembling, your glare locked on his smug face as your body started to unravel, the pleasure crashing in hard. but he stopped—pulled out completely, fingers off your clit, leaving you hanging right on the brink, a wrecked, shaking mess. your scream was pure frustration, raw and pissed, your tail lashing out to smack his chest, and he laughed, loud and filthy, stepping back to admire you—ass up, dripping, teary-eyed, and glaring like you’d kill him.

“not yet, princess,” he says, voice dark and promising, his cock still hard, glistening with your mess, bobbing as he shifts his weight. he leans in close, breath hot against your neck, and grabs your tail—fingers wrapping tight around its base, yanking it hard enough to make you yelp, tears pricking sharper, your hips jolting back into him.

“we’ve got more to play with,” he growls, crude and gleeful, tugging again, slower now, dragging you backward step by step, your knees scraping the stone as he pulls you toward the bed.

the mattress looms ahead, plush and draped in rich silks, and he shoves you forward, your palms sinking into its softness as you catch yourself, ass still raised, tail twitching in his grip. he releases it with a rough swat, climbing onto the bed, settling back against the headboard, legs spread wide, cock heavy and waiting. he pats his lap, grinning like a bastard, daring you to crawl up, his eyes glinting with perverse hunger.

“if you’re so strong,” he taunted, voice dripping with that sick, perverted glee, “ride me. show me that demon pride you’re so fucking proud of.”

you glared, chest heaving, the choker flickering as your blood boiled, those tears welling up hotter from the sheer audacity of him. no way you were letting this smug prick win easy—he wanted you to climb up and take him? fine. you’d ram it down his throat, make him choke on his own game.

with a snarl, you crawled onto the bed, the silk soft under your knees, and straddled him, your tail flicking behind you like a whip, smacking the mattress in a bratty little tantrum. he grinned, leaning back, one hand stroking his cock slow and deliberate—thick, massive, glistening with your slick from before—the other beckoning you closer like you were some pet he owned.

“go on, princess,” he said, eyes glinting with dark delight, drinking in your glare, the way your lashes fluttered with unshed tears. “prove you’re not just a trophy wife. show me what that half-demon filth can do.”

“watch me, you sanctimonious fuck,” you snapped, bratty as hell, planting your hands on his chest. your claws dug in, scratching red lines across his skin, and he hissed—pure pleasure, not pain, the sadistic freak.

you braced yourself, lining up over him, the thick head of his cock nudging your entrance, and fuck, he was huge—bigger than you’d clocked up close, a monster that made your thighs tremble just looking at it. you started to lower, slow, cautious, feeling the stretch burn right away, and your breath hitched, a whimper slipping out before you could bite it back.

how did it even fit inside you earlier?

it was too much—way too fucking much. you got an inch down, maybe two, and the tears welled thicker, stinging your eyes as you glared at him, refusing to let them fall. the choker flared, bright and humiliating, glowing with every twitch of your hips. you forced yourself further, another inch, gasping as the stretch split you open, your claws raking his chest harder, leaving bloody streaks he didn’t even flinch at.

“pathetic, huh?” he muttered, voice low and crude, his eyes a sea of crazed blue, pupils blown wide, locked on your face—on the way your brows knit, your lips parted, the tears trembling as you struggled.

“shut up,” you hissed, panting, shifting your hips to try again. you sank lower, slow and stubborn, determined to take him, and a choked moan tore from your throat as he stretched you wider, deeper, the burn mixing with a heat you hated. your tail lashed wildly, smacking his thigh, and he grabbed it fast, yanking it just enough to make you jolt, the choker glowing brighter, your slick coating him as you squirmed.

you pushed down harder, forcing yourself, and then—fuck—he hit your cervix, the blunt pressure making you cry out, raw and sharp, your whole body shuddering as you finally bottomed out.

the tears spilled then, hot and unwilling, streaking down your cheeks as you glared at him, chest heaving, thighs shaking from the effort. you’d done it—three shaky, agonizing thrusts, riding him slow and deliberate, your claws digging into his chest for balance.

but it wasn’t enough for the impatient bastard beneath you—too slow, too fucking tentative—and he groaned, low and frustrated, his hands slamming onto your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

“fuck this,” he growled, crude and impatient, his holy knight patience cracking wide open. “you’re too damn slow, princess—thought you’d ride me like a queen, not whimper like a bitch.” before you could snap back, he took over—lifting you up like you weighed nothing, then slamming you back down onto his cock, full force, the head smashing your cervix again. your scream echoed, raw and desperate, tears streaming now as he filled you completely, the stretch so intense your vision blurred.

he didn’t stop—bounced you again, harder, using you like a fucking ragdoll, his grip iron-tight on your hips. up and down, fast and brutal, each drop driving him deeper, hitting your cervix every time, the wet slap of your ass against his thighs filling the room.

“that’s better,” he grunted, eyes locked on your face, drinking in every tear, every gasp, every twist of your expression like a perverted addict. “look at you—crying on my cock, princess. so fucking pretty when you break.”

“fuck—you—” you gasped, voice cracking with every thrust, your body shaking in his hands, the tears falling freely now, hot and bitter, your glare still burning through them. the choker glowed violently, a pulsing spotlight on how soaked you were, how your thighs clenched around him despite your snarls.

he laughed, dark and filthy, one hand sliding up to grab your tail again, tugging it in time with his rhythm.

“what’s wrong, princess?” he purred, bouncing you faster, his massive cock spearing you, the pressure on your cervix making your sobs louder, your tears streaming harder. “too big for that demon pride? too holy for your filthy little cunt? i’m cleansing you, slut—fucking all that evil right out of you.”

you couldn’t answer—couldn’t think—your claws scrabbling at his chest, leaving bloody trails he ignored, your sobs mixing with moans you hated yourself for. he kept going, watching you fall apart, his breaths ragged but controlled, like he was edging himself too—holding back just to savor how fucking gorgeous you looked, all teary and wrecked.

“cry harder,” he growled, crude and sadistic, his voice rough with lust. “gimme those tears—holy knights like me live for this shit, purifying dirty little demons with big, fat cocks.”

your legs started to give out, muscles trembling, and you slumped forward, chest slamming into his, face buried in his neck as he kept bouncing you, relentless, his dick grinding so deep it hurt in the best way.

“aw, poor thing,” he cooed, sarcastic as hell, one hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back to see your tear-streaked face. “can’t take it? too bad—i’m not even close to done.”

he slowed then, just a little, grinding you down onto him, letting you feel every inch of that massive length, his cock throbbing inside you as he watched you sob, tears dripping onto his chest.

“fuck, you’re too pretty like this,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice low and crude. “all teary and fucked out—makes me wanna cum, but nah, i’m a patient man. holy, right? gotta drag this out, keep cleansing you till you’re pure.”

you were shaking, sobbing, the heat coiling tight in your gut, every grind pushing you closer, your body betraying you as you rocked against him, chasing it despite the tears, the humiliation. he groaned, eyes fluttering, his own edge creeping up, but he held back, sadistic bastard that he was, loving how you looked too much to let it end.

“gonna cum, huh?” he taunted, voice a filthy whisper as he felt you tense, your sobs turning to desperate gasps. “go on—thank me and i might let you. say it, slut.”

“thank you,” you choked out, half-snarl, half-sob, tears streaming as your glare locked on his smug face, your body right there, teetering on the edge, so fucking close. but he stopped—yanked you off his cock completely, flipping you onto your back in one swift, brutal move, the silk soft against your spine as he pinned you down, his dick hovering over you, hard and dripping, his grin wide and wicked.

“not yet,” he said, voice dark and crude, his chest heaving as he edged himself too, holding back just to watch you writhe. “we’re switching it up, princess—got more filth to fuck out of you.”

he didn’t let you whine about the loss and denial—just yanked the sashes up, tying your wrists tight to the headboard, and forced your legs wide, turning the plush bed into some fucked-up altar. his bite mark throbbed on your shoulder, his cum smeared your skin, and he settled between your thighs, eyes gleaming with that perverted, possessive hunger, ready to wreck you all over again.

he knelt there, all holy knight bullshit on the surface—white hair catching the candlelight, sharp jaw set like he was about to pray—but his hands were pure filth, sliding up your thighs slow, thumbs brushing the slick mess he’d left behind, smearing it like he was marking you. your tail flicked, smacking his wrist in a bratty little rebellion, and he grabbed it fast, pinning it to the bed with a rough tsk, his fingers digging in just enough to sting.

“still got some fight, huh?” he said, voice low and mocking, spreading your legs wider until the stretch burned, exposing your dripping cunt to the cool air. “let’s see how long that lasts, you filthy demon whore.”

his fingers traced your folds, slow and teasing, dipping just barely into your entrance—light, shallow, not enough to do anything but make you twitch. the choker flickered, a faint glow pulsing with your heartbeat, and you hissed, tugging at the sashes, the knots biting your wrists.

“don’t you fucking dare—” you started, ultimately annoyed at his backtracking, but he cut you off, sliding one finger in—just one, knuckle-deep, curling it slow to graze that spot inside that made your hips jerk up, chasing more despite wanting something else.

“shh,” he murmured, crude and dark, his other hand pressing your stomach flat, pinning you still as he worked that finger in and out, agonizingly slow, letting the heat coil tight in your gut. “holy things take time, princess. you’re still a dirty fucking mess—gotta clean you up proper.”

you snarled, thrashing against the sashes, but he held you down, adding a second finger, stretching you just enough to make you gasp, then stopping—completely still, letting you clench around him, your breath hitching as you glared, tears welling up hot and heavy.

“please,” you spat, venom dripping, and he smirked, pulling his fingers out slow, dragging them along your walls until they slipped free, leaving you empty. your sob echoed, raw and pissed, and the choker flared brighter, slick dripping down your thighs as you bucked your hips, desperate for anything.

“not good enough,” he said, voice a filthy lilt, chanting some mock-prayer bullshit—“purify this sinner, wash her clean”—while his fingers went to your clit, rubbing light, maddening circles that made your whole body tense, teetering right on the brink. your tears spilled then, streaking down your cheeks as you glared at him, defiant even through the haze, and he groaned low, like the sight of you crying was better than fucking you.

“look at those tears,” he muttered, crude and gleeful, leaning down to lick one off your cheek, his tongue hot and slow. “crying for my cock already? pathetic little half-breed.” he pulled back, grabbing his dick—still hard, massive, dripping—and slapped it against your clit, the wet smack loud and humiliating. your body jolted, a choked moan tearing out, and the choker glowed violent, lighting up your wrecked face in the dim room.

he didn’t stop—kept it up, relentless, playing you like a damn fiddle. he’d drag his cock along your slit, slow and teasing, nudging your clit with the head, then pull back, slapping it down again, each hit making your hips buck, your sobs louder, tears streaming as you glared through them.

“damn you,” you rasped, voice hoarse, tail lashing out to smack his arm, but he pinned it down, laughing soft and dark as he leaned in, breath hot against your cunt.

“keep crying,” he purred, crude as hell, licking one slow, deliberate stripe up your slit, stopping just shy of your clit. your whole body arched, a scream caught in your throat, and he pulled back, slapping his cock against you again—harder, the sting sharp and electric. “holy knight’s gotta taste that demon filth—wash it out with my tongue, huh?”

he dove in then, but never enough—tongue flicking your clit light and quick, then pulling away right as your thighs started to shake. he’d suck it hard, lips sealing around it, only to pop off with a wet smack, leaving you gasping, sobbing, the tears falling faster as he watched, eyes dark with sick delight.

“so fucking pretty,” he muttered, sliding two fingers back in, pumping them deep, curling them just right until your hips rocked, your breath hitching, then yanking them out, smearing your slick across your thigh.

“please—fuck—please,” you choked out, half-snarl, half-sob, the tears burning your eyes as you glared, your pride shredded, your body screaming for release. he grinned, grabbing his cock again, slapping it against your clit in a quick, brutal rhythm—smack, smack, smack—each hit making you flinch, your sobs turning to desperate gasps, the choker glowing so bright it hurt to look at.

“begging now, huh?” he said, voice rough with lust, leaning over you, his cock brushing your oversensitive folds, teasing, not pushing in. “thought you’d kill me—where’s that fire, princess? all i see is a teary little slut, dripping for me.”

he slapped his cock down again, harder, the wet sound obscene, and your tail lashed out, smacking his chest, weak but furious. he grabbed it, yanking it hard, making you yelp, tears streaming as he pinned it to the bed.

“gonna break you slow,” he growled, sliding his fingers back in—three this time, stretching you wide, pumping them fast and deep, curling them just right until your whole body tensed, your sobs loud and broken. he’d pull them out right as you started to shake, leaving you clenching around nothing, then slap his cock against your clit again, over and over, the sting mixing with the heat until your mind was a haze of need and rage.

he kept it going—hours, minutes, who fucking knew—switching it up just when you thought you’d snap. he’d lick you slow, tongue dragging along your folds, then stop to suck your clit hard, pulling off with a grin as you screamed. he’d fuck you shallow with his fingers, then deep, then pull out, slapping your cunt with his hand, then his cock, each hit making your tears fall faster, your glare burning through the haze.

“holy work’s never quick,” he’d murmur, crude and dark, licking your tears again, groaning against your skin. “gotta purify you, my filthy bride—cry all you want, it’s just making me harder.”

your body was a wreck—shaking, sobbing, slick pooling beneath you, the choker glowing blindingly bright as he played you, every nerve on fire. he’d tease his cock against your entrance, pushing in just the tip, letting you feel the stretch, then pull out, slapping it against your clit again, laughing as you bucked, your sobs turning to desperate, broken pleas.

“i’ll kill you,” you rasped, voice raw, tears streaming as he hovered over you, his dick brushing your folds, his eyes locked on your teary glare.

“cute,” satoru only purred, slapping his cock down one last time, hard and wet, making you flinch, your whole body trembling, right on the edge, so fucking close you could taste it.

but he didn’t let you—pulled back completely, leaving you panting, sobbing, a wrecked mess tied to the bed, as he loomed over you, his massive dick hard and dripping, his eyes dark with that perverted hunger, chest heaving from his own restraint. he untied the sashes, letting your arms flop uselessly, then grabbed your hips, flipping you onto your back with a cocky smirk.

he didn’t waste a second—hands clamped on your hips, yanking you down the bed until your ass hit his thighs, your legs splayed wide over his. the silk bunched under your back, damp and warm, sticking to your skin as he knelt between your legs, his cock hovering over your cunt, thick and heavy, the head glistening with pre-cum and your slick.

your chest heaved, tears still streaming, your glare burning through the haze as you rasped, “you’re a fucking monster,” voice raw and broken from sobbing.

“and you’re my filthy little demon,” he shot back, crude and dark, grabbing his dick and slapping it against your clit one last time—smack—the wet sound loud and obscene, making you flinch, a sob tearing out as the choker flared. “gonna breed that evil right out of you, princess—fill you up till you’re clean.”

he lined up, the head nudging your entrance, and thrust in—hard, deep, no mercy, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal snap of his hips. your scream was instant, guttural, your body arching off the bed as he stretched you wide, his cock slamming past your limits, hitting your cervix with a dull, aching thud.

thee tears fell faster, your glare dissolving into a desperate, teary mess as the heat exploded, the orgasm crashing through you immediately—weeks, hours, who fucking knew—of pent-up need unraveling in a single thrust. your cunt clenched around him, tight and pulsing, slick gushing out, soaking his thighs as your legs shook, toes curling, a raw, “fuck—fuck—” spilling from your lips.

“there it is,” he groaned, voice rough and filthy, his hands digging into your hips, holding you still as you spasmed around him, your first release ripping through you like a storm. “cumming already, huh? such a needy little slut—couldn’t even wait for me to move.”

he didn’t stop—didn’t even pause—just started fucking you through it, slow at first, dragging his cock out inch by inch, letting you feel the stretch, the way your walls fluttered, then slamming back in, hard and deep, hitting that aching spot again.

the sensation was overwhelming—his cock filled you completely, thick and unyielding, the head grinding against your cervix with every thrust, a dull, bruising ache mixing with the sharp, electric pleasure still buzzing from your orgasm.

your thighs trembled, spread wide over his, the muscles twitching as he kept your legs pinned, knees bent slightly, feet dangling uselessly in the air. the silk rubbed your back raw, your spine arching every time he drove in, your breasts bouncing with the force, nipples hard and sensitive against the cool air.

“look at you,” he growled, crude and sadistic, one hand sliding up to grab your tail, yanking it hard enough to make you yelp, tears streaming as he twisted it in his fist. “crying like a bitch while i fuck you clean—holy knight’s dick too much for your demon filth, huh?” he thrust harder, faster, the wet slap of his hips against your ass loud and relentless, your slick dripping down onto the silk, pooling beneath you.

your second orgasm hit fast, spurred by his tail yank and the brutal pace—your cunt spasmed again, tighter this time, a hot rush of slick coating him as you screamed, voice breaking, “fuck you—fuck—” the tears wouldn’t stop, your glare flickering, softening into something dazed as your body shook, the pleasure too much, too soon. your clit throbbed, oversensitive from his slaps, and every thrust sent a jolt through it, sharp and searing, making your toes curl harder, your breath hitching in short, desperate gasps.

“that’s two,” he purred, voice dark and gleeful, leaning down to lick a tear off your cheek, his tongue hot and slow, groaning against your skin. “sobbing so pretty—keep it up, princess, i’m gonna flood that filthy womb.” he shifted, hands sliding under your thighs, lifting them slightly, bending your knees more, tilting your hips up so he could hit deeper—straighter—his cock grinding into your cervix with every thrust, the pressure building, aching, making you sob louder.

the position burned—your thighs stretched wide, muscles straining, your hips tilted at an angle that left you completely open, vulnerable, his weight pressing down as he fucked you into the bed. the silk caught every drop of slick, every tear that fell, your arms limp at your sides, claws digging into the bedding as he pounded you, the sensation splitting you apart—sharp pleasure, dull pain, all of it blending into a haze. your third orgasm crept up slow, coiling tight as he kept that brutal rhythm, his cock dragging along your walls, the head smashing your cervix, your clit rubbing against his pelvis with every thrust.

“holy fuck,” he grunted, crude and breathless, his own restraint fraying as he watched you unravel, your tears glistening in the candlelight, your face flushed and wrecked. “look at that—crying and cumming, such a perfect breeding bitch.”

he yanked your tail again, harder, and you screamed, the sound raw and broken as your third hit, your cunt pulsing around him, slick flooding out, soaking his cock, his thighs, the bed—a wet, messy gush that made him groan louder, his thrusts faltering for a second before he picked up again, relentless.

your body shook, legs trembling, the sensation electric—your clit throbbed against him, your walls clenched tight, the pressure on your cervix a deep, aching pulse that made your sobs turn to whimpers, your glare fading into a glassy, teary stare.

“can’t—fuck—can’t take it,” you gasped, voice slurring, your hands clawing at the silk, tail twitching in his grip as he kept fucking you through it, drawing it out, the wet squelch of your cunt loud and obscene.

“you’ll take it,” he growled, crude and dark, shifting again—hands sliding under your ass, lifting you higher, your hips off the bed now, your lower back arching as he folded you more, knees pushed toward your chest. “gonna fuck you till you’re pure—till you’re dripping with me, slut.” the new angle was brutal—his cock hit even deeper, straighter, every thrust slamming your cervix, the pressure sharp and relentless, your clit grinding harder against him, sending jolts through your whole body.

your fourth orgasm crashed in fast, spurred by the angle, the tail yank, the crude filth spilling from his mouth—your cunt spasmed hard, a hot, wet rush soaking him again, your scream turning to a high, broken whine as your eyes fluttered, tears streaming, your face going slack—mouth open, tongue lolling slightly, eyes half-lidded and dazed, a wrecked, mindless mess. your body shook uncontrollably, legs kicking weakly, the sensation overwhelming—his cock filling you, stretching you, the ache in your cervix blending with the sharp, pulsing pleasure in your clit, your whole core a throbbing, soaking wreck.

“fuck, yes,” he groaned, voice rough and filthy, leaning down to lick more tears off your face, his thrusts slowing but still deep, grinding into you as you trembled. “look at you—crying and squirting, such a dirty little demon. holy knight’s breaking you good, huh?”

he didn’t stop—kept fucking you slow now, letting you feel every inch, every pulse, drawing out the aftershocks as your body twitched, your sobs turning to soft, teary whimpers, your glare completely gone, replaced by that glassy, fucked-out stare.

he shifted again, hands sliding up to grip your thighs, pushing them back further, folding you in half—knees nearly at your shoulders, ass lifted high, cunt angled straight up for him. the position was obscene—your legs spread wide, pinned, your slick dripping down your ass, pooling on the silk, his cock poised above you, massive and dripping, ready to plunge back in.

your breath hitched, a weak, “no, please—fuck—no more,” slipping out, but he just grinned, crude and sadistic, slapping his cock against your clit again—smack, smack—making you flinch, a sob tearing out as your oversensitive body jolted.

“oh, we’re not done,” he purred, voice dark and filthy, lining up again, the head nudging your entrance. “gonna breed you till you’re leaking, princess—till that demon filth’s gone and you’re mine.” he thrust in slow this time, dragging it out, letting you feel the stretch, the way your walls fluttered, still pulsing from the last orgasm, and your fifth hit almost instantly—a sharp, searing wave, your cunt clenching hard, another gush of slick soaking him as you screamed, voice breaking into a wrecked, teary mess.

your body felt like a live wire—every thrust sent jolts through you, your clit rubbing against him, your cervix aching, the sensation splitting you apart—sharp and hot, wet and messy, your tears falling faster, your face slack and wild, mouth open, eyes rolling back slightly as you shook, completely lost.

satoru kept going, relentless, fucking you through it, his groans mixing with your sobs, the wet slap of his hips against your ass a constant, filthy rhythm, your slick flooding out, soaking everything.

his hands tightened their grip on your thighs, holding you folded—knees near your shoulders, ass lifted high, cunt angled up like an offering. your voice was gone, a hoarse, “no more,” barely audible, but he just grinned, crude and dark, pulling out and slapping his dick against your clit one last time, making you flinch, a teary whimper slipping out as he lined up again, ready to finish what he started.

“gonna fill you up now,” he growled, voice rough and filthy, his hands tightening on your thighs, keeping you bent in half—your knees pressed close to your shoulders, your ass hanging off the edge of the bed, hips tilted so high your lower back arched sharp, the silk bunching beneath you.

your legs dangled, feet brushing the air, useless and trembling, your cunt spread wide, slick and pulsing from the last round, every nerve raw and screaming. he thrust in slow, dragging it out, letting you feel the stretch—his cock thick and unyielding, sliding past your walls, the head nudging your cervix with a dull, aching thud that made you sob, tears falling faster as your glare flickered, fading into a glassy, teary haze.

“fuck—yes,” he groaned, crude and dark, his hips snapping forward, burying himself deep, the pressure sharp and relentless, your cunt clenching around him instantly.

your sixth orgasm hit hard—immediate, a hot, pulsing wave, your walls fluttering tight, slick coating him as you screamed, voice breaking into a wrecked, “fuck—fuck—” your body shook, thighs trembling against his grip, the sensation splitting you apart—his cock grinding your cervix, your clit rubbing against his pelvis, a searing jolt that made your toes curl, your breath hitching in short, desperate gasps.

“that’s it,” he purred, sadistic glee dripping from every word, his hands sliding down to grip your ass, lifting you higher, keeping you folded tight as he fucked you through it, slow and brutal, letting the aftershocks ripple. “cumming again, huh? you really are such a filthy slut for a princess—can’t stop, can you?”

he didn’t let up—kept thrusting, deep and steady, the wet slap of his hips against your ass loud and obscene, your slick dripping down, soaking the silk beneath you. the position burned—your thighs pressed tight to your chest, your knees bent sharp, pinning your lungs, making every breath shallow and ragged, your spine curved so hard it ached, your ass lifted off the bed, held up by his hands like a prize.

his cock filled you completely, stretching you past your limits, the head smashing your cervix with every thrust, a deep, bruising ache that mixed with the sharp, pulsing pleasure still buzzing from your clit. your tears wouldn’t stop, streaming down your face, pooling in the hollow of your neck as you sobbed, your glare gone, replaced by a dazed, teary stare.

“look at you,” satoru grunted, crude and breathless, one hand sliding up to grab your tail, yanking it hard enough to make you whimper, tears spilling as he twisted it in his fist. “crying like a fucked-out whore—holy knight’s cleansing you good, huh? fucking that demon filth right out.”

he thrust harder, faster, the rhythm brutal, your cunt clenching again, your seventh orgasm building fast, spurred by the tail yank and the relentless pressure.

it hit like a punch—your walls spasmed tight, a hot rush of slick coating him, a messy flood that soaked his thighs, your scream turning to a high, broken whine as your eyes fluttered, tears streaming, your face going slack—mouth open, tongue lolling slightly, eyes half-lidded and wild, a wrecked, mindless mess. your body shook uncontrollably, legs kicking weakly against his grip, the sensation overwhelming—his cock spearing you, the ache in your cervix blending with the sharp, electric heat in your clit, your whole core a throbbing, dripping wreck.

“seven,” he growled, voice dark and filthy, leaning down to lick a tear off your cheek, his tongue slow and hot, groaning against your skin as he kept fucking you, drawing it out. “sobbing so pretty—gonna breed you till you realize that you’re mine, princess.”

he shifted, hands sliding under your thighs, pushing them back further, your knees brushing your ears now, your ass lifted higher, your hips tilted so steep your cunt was practically vertical, his cock plunging straight down, hitting deeper, harder, the pressure on your cervix a constant, aching pulse.

the new angle was brutal—your legs folded tight, thighs pressed to your chest, your feet dangling near your head, toes brushing your own hair, your spine curved so sharp it hurt, your ass hanging in his grip, completely exposed. every thrust drove him straight into your core, his cock grinding your cervix with a force that made your sobs louder, your tears falling in a steady stream, your breath shallow and ragged, lungs burning from the squeeze. your clit rubbed hard against him, every snap of his hips sending a jolt through it, sharp and searing, making your whole body twitch.

“holy fuck,” he groaned, crude and sadistic, his thrusts slowing but hitting harder, grinding deep as your eighth orgasm crept up, coiling tight in your gut. “look at that—crying and cumming, such a perfect little cocksleeve. gonna fill that filthy womb—make it pure.”

he yanked your tail again, sharp and punishing, and you screamed, the sound raw and broken as your eighth hit, your cunt pulsing around him, a hot, wet rush soaking him, your body shaking, your face slack and wild—mouth gaping, eyes rolling back slightly, tongue slipping out, a teary, fucked-out wreck.

he didn’t stop—shifted again, hands sliding to your hips, flipping you onto your stomach in one rough move, the silk soft under your chest as he yanked your ass up, knees sinking into the bed, your thighs spread wide, your face pressed into the damp bedding.

your arms stayed limp, too weak to move, claws digging into the silk as he thrust back in, deep and brutal, his cock slamming your cervix from behind, the angle sharper, straighter, the pressure a constant, aching thud. your ninth orgasm hit fast, spurred by the shift—your walls clenched tight, slick dripping out, not a squirt but a steady leak that soaked the bed, your scream muffled into the silk, tears pooling beneath your face as you shook, completely lost.

“nine,” he purred, voice rough and filthy, one hand gripping your hip, the other yanking your tail up, using it like a leash to pull you back onto him with every thrust. “crying into the bed—you’re so pretty and pathetic, taking my holy cock like this.”

he fucked you harder, the wet squelch of your cunt loud and obscene, your clit rubbing against the silk with every slam, sending jolts through you, sharp and hot, your tenth building fast, your mind fraying at the edges.

he shifted again, climbing over you, his chest pressing your back into the bed, his knees bracketing your thighs, pinning you flat, your ass tilted up just enough for him to keep thrusting—deep, slow, grinding now, his cock buried so far it felt like it was in your stomach, the head smashing your cervix with every roll of his hips.

your legs were trapped under him, bent slightly at the knees, feet brushing his calves, your arms pinned by your sides, claws scraping the silk as he fucked you down into the mattress, his weight heavy and unyielding, your breath shallow and desperate.

“fuck—yes,” he groaned, crude and dark, his breath hot against your neck as he licked another tear off your skin, his thrusts slowing but hitting harder, grinding deep. your tenth orgasm crashed through—a sharp, searing wave, your cunt pulsing tight, slick flooding out, soaking his cock, your scream a broken, teary whimper as your face went slack—mouth wide, tongue lolling, eyes rolling back, a wild, wrecked mess.

your body shook, pinned under him, the sensation overwhelming—his cock filling you, the ache in your cervix a constant pulse, your clit grinding into the silk, your whole core a throbbing, dripping ruin.

“ten,” he grunted, voice filthy and triumphant, his hands sliding under you, cupping your stomach as he thrust deeper, grinding into you. “gonna cum now—fill you up, princess. breed that demon filth out of you.” he didn’t rush—kept it slow, deliberate, letting you feel every pulse, every twitch, his cock throbbing inside you as he groaned, low and filthy, his breath ragged against your neck. then he came—hot, thick, spilling into you in heavy pulses, flooding your cunt, the sensation sharp and hot, your walls clenching around him as he ground it in, creaming you deep, the excess dripping out, pooling on the silk.

“fuck—take it,” he growled, crude and sadistic, shifting again—hands grabbing your thighs, flipping you back onto your back, lifting your legs high, pressing your knees to your chest, your ass off the bed, your hips tilted up in his grip, his cock still buried deep, cum leaking out around him as he thrust back in, slow and brutal, pushing his seed deeper.

your eleventh orgasm hit instantly—a hot, pulsing wave, your cunt spasming, a sharp squirt soaking his stomach, your scream a wrecked, teary mess as your face stayed slack, eyes wild and unfocused, tongue lolling, a mindless, fucked-out shell.

“good girl,” he purred, voice dark and filthy, fucking you through it, his cock grinding his cum into your womb, the position tight and brutal—your thighs pressed to your chest, knees bent sharp, feet dangling near your shoulders, your spine curved, your ass lifted, his weight pinning you as he bred you, relentless, your tears falling, your sobs soft and broken, your mind gone, shattered under the onslaught.

he stayed buried inside you, cock softening but still thick, plugging his cum deep as he caught his breath, chest heaving against yours. your thighs trembled in his grip, muscles twitching, your knees still shoved up near your ears, feet dangling uselessly, toes brushing your own hair from how tight he’d folded you.

the silk were a soaked mess beneath you—slick, cum, tears, all mixing into a damp, sticky ruin that clung to your back, your ass, your thighs, the sensation warm and gross, a constant reminder of how he’d wrecked you. your arms lay limp at your sides, claws flexing weakly, scraping the bedding, your breath shallow and ragged, lungs burning from the squeeze of his last position.

“fuck,” he muttered, crude and low, his voice rough with exertion as he pulled back slightly, his cock slipping out slow, a thick, wet squelch echoing as more cum leaked from you, dripping down your ass, pooling on the silk.

he groaned at the sight, one hand sliding under your stomach, pressing down to feel the bulge where he’d filled you, his thumb rubbing slow, possessive circles over your womb. “look at that—stuffed you good, huh? cleansed that demon filth with my holy seed.”

your eyes fluttered, tears still streaming, hot and bitter, pooling in the hollow of your neck as you lay there, wrecked and shaking, your face a slack, wild mess—mouth open, tongue lolling slightly, eyes half-lidded and dazed, unfocused, staring at the ceiling. the choker pulsed faint, a dull glow that matched your slowing heartbeat, your cunt throbbing, oversensitive, every nerve fried from the marathon.

your tail twitched, brushing his knee, a weak, involuntary flick, and he grabbed it fast, yanking it just enough to make you whimper, a soft, teary sound that made him grin, crude and dark.

“so pretty like this,” he purred, sadistic glee dripping from every word, leaning down to lick a tear off your cheek, his tongue hot and slow, tracing the salty streak up to your eye. “all fucked out, crying, full of me—lovely wife, huh?”

his hand slid up, cupping your face, thumb brushing your trembling lips, smearing spit and tears as he tilted your head, forcing you to meet his gaze. those blue eyes gleamed, perverse and triumphant, drinking in your wreckage like it was a fucking masterpiece.

you couldn’t speak—voice gone, throat raw from screaming, sobbing, begging through the hours he’d ruined you. your chest heaved, breaths short and shaky, your body too heavy to move, every muscle spent, your cunt aching, stuffed full of his cum, a dull, pulsing heat that made you twitch.

“mine,” he murmured, crude and low, licking another tear off your skin, his breath hot against your neck as he nipped the bruise he’d left earlier, making you flinch, a soft, broken whimper slipping out. “mine. mine.” his fingers dug into your hips, possessive, his cock brushing your thigh, half-hard again, smearing cum and slick as he pressed it against you, teasing, not thrusting in yet, just letting you feel it. “gonna keep you like this—bred, broken, all mine.”

he leaned back, kneeling there, his chest heaving, sweat slicking his scarred skin, his white hair damp and messy, sticking to his forehead as he watched you—watched the cum leak from your cunt, watched your tears glisten in the candlelight, watched your body tremble under his hands.

“holy fuck,” he muttered, crude and reverent, his voice rough with lust and exhaustion. “look at you—wrecked, dripping, crying like a little bitch. my pretty filthy bride, huh?”

he shifted, sliding down beside you, one arm draping over your stomach, pulling you against his chest, his cock pressing against your ass, still half-hard, smearing more mess as he settled in. your legs stayed splayed, thighs quaking, your breath hitching as he nuzzled your neck, licking the sweat and tears off your skin, his hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb brushing your nipple, making you twitch, a soft, teary sob slipping out.

“so good,” he murmured, voice softening but still crude, his breath hot against your ear. “took it all—every drop, every thrust, every fucking tear. you’ll love me. they all do. eventually,”

his hand stroked your stomach, pressing down where he’d filled you, like he was claiming it all over again. your eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion pulling you under, your body too wrecked to move, too broken to fight, the tears slowing, your breath evening out as you drifted, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

but then—fuck—it sparked. not life. not hope. just pride. that brittle, burning ember he hadn’t managed to fuck out of you. not yet. not ever.

your eyes cracked open, glassy and bruised, but gleaming with that same imperious spite, the same loathing that had never once faltered—not through the screams, the begging, the breaking. your voice was a rasp, torn from somewhere buried deep, meant not to fight him off but to wound him where it mattered.

“as if i’d ever love a holy mutt who only fucks like he’s trying to prove something.” your lip curled, defiant even as your voice trembled. “must be hard, knowing the only crown you’ll ever have is between my legs.”

the words clawed out, weak but venomous, your tail twitching against his grip, smacking his thigh with what little strength you had left, a final, defiant snap.

he froze—breath catching, his hand stalling on your stomach, his cock twitching hard against your thigh—and for a heartbeat, the room went dead, the candles flickering low, wax dripping silent onto the stone. then his face split into a grin—wide, cruel, unhinged, his eyes flashing with sadistic, perverted delight, his love twisting into something vicious as he moved—fast, brutal, flipping you onto your stomach, yanking your hips up so hard your knees sank deep into the silk, your ass lifted high, your face shoved into the soaked bedding, his seed and slick smearing your cheek, the scent choking you.

“oh, my filthy bride,” he snarled, voice sharp and scolding, dripping with cruel glee as he fisted your hair, pulling until your scalp burned, his other hand grabbing your tail, twisting it so viciously you screamed, tears spilling fresh, your body jerking under his grip.

“thought you’d learned your place, huh? mouthing off like a brainless brat—guess my cock didn’t fuck enough sense into you.” he scolded you like a child caught stealing, his cock—hard again, massive—slapping against your cunt, smack, smack, smack, each hit wet and stinging, making you flinch, your oversensitive clit throbbing, your sobs raw and loud.

“you don’t get it, do you?” he growled, leaning over you, his chest pinning your back, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he scolded, voice cruel and cutting. “you’re mine. my wife, my trophy, my fucking prize. you insult me? you spit that venom? i’ll carve it out of you, brat—fuck you till you’re choking on your own screams, till you’re begging me to keep you.”

he yanked your tail harder, twisting it like a rope, his hand cracking down on your ass—slap, slap, slap—each hit sharp and brutal, leaving welts, your body jolting, your tears soaking the silk, your glare flickering back, weak but defiant, burning through the haze.

“pathetic,” he sneered, crude and sadistic, his cock nudging your entrance, teasing, the head slipping in just enough to stretch you, then pulling out, leaving you empty, shaking, sobbing. “look at you—crying, leaking, talking big like you’re not supposed to be my breeding bitch. you think you’re tough, huh? i’ll fuck that attitude till you’re nothing but a whimpering mess, till you’re crawling for my mercy.”

he slapped his cock against your clit again—smack, smack—harder, the wet sound obscene, your body bucking, your screams muffled, your tears endless, the choker flaring bright as he leaned in, licking your cheek, groaning at the taste.

“i hate you,” you rasped again, weaker but sharper, venom dripping, your tail snapping against his grip, a frail but furious smack to his wrist, your claws tearing deeper into the silk, shredding the silk, defiance blazing through the tears, the pain, the wreckage. his laugh was cold, cruel, slicing the air as he shoved your face harder into the bedding, muffling your sobs, his hand cracking down on your ass again—slap, slap—welts blooming, your body trembling, his cock poised to ruin you again.

“go on, keep cursing me like that,” he growled, voice dark and filthy, scolding you like a king to a rebel, his sadistic glee a living thing as he lined up, the head nudging your cunt, teasing, promising pain. “i’ll make you pray to me by the time i’m done.”

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meenaxskz · 22 days ago

Text

when the bed gave up on life (maknae line)

ot8 reactions | bf!skz x reader au genre: crack | light smut warnings: language | suggestive content hyung line | ✧ maknae line

han

He had you face down, ass up, back arched perfectly. You’re screaming. He’s moaning. The mattress is fighting for its life. “Fuckfuck-you’re so good,” he gasps, hair sticking to his forehead. He grabs your hips and snaps his hips forward. “You feel like-like-ugh, fuck, baby-” CREAACKK. SNAP. THUD. The entire bottom half of the bed collapses. Your stomach hits the mattress, knees slide off the edge, and Jisung goes down dramatically. Silence. Then: “…BABE?!” You gasp “DID WE JUST-” He flails from behind you. “OH MY GOD I THINK WE BROKE THE FUCKING BED!" "YOU THINK ?!" He scrambles off you, tripping over a pillow "are you okay?! Did I kill your knee?! Did I paralyze you?!" You rub your bruised hip but also you’re laughing so hard you can’t breathe. “I think my spine just spoke Latin.” He sighs and sits up dramatically, sheets tangled around his waist looking like a depressed roman emperor. “THIS BED HAS JEALOUSY ENERGY. SHE COULDN’T HANDLE OUR LOVE.” “...I can’t believe we just broke a bed mid sex.” “I can. We were too powerful. It was me. I did that. With dick.” "Please shut up forever" --- You crawl off the wreckage. He flops back down like he’s in mourning. “You good?” you ask “I just need to lie here. Think about what I had. What I lost. What I could’ve finished.” “Babe. We’re naked on a diagonal mattress.” “I’M A CASUALTY OF PASSION”

felix

You’re on top, hips rolling slow, breath warm against his neck. Felix is gripping your waist, voice already wrecked. “Just like that, angel... fuck, you feel so good,” he breathes, lips brushing your collarbone. You moan softly, head spinning, thighs starting to shake. He pants, “You’re making me crazy... keep going, don’t stop-” CREEEAAKK. CRACK. SNAP. The mattress tilts. You both slide—fully connected—into the corner of the bed frame. Felix lets out the most Australian panic gasp of his life “OH-OH MY GOD” “WHAT JUST-” The bed’s gone. It’s gone. The leg’s bent inward like it lost a fight. A screw rolls past your hand like an insult. Felix blinks up at you, still pinned underneath. Wide eyed. Dazed. “…Did we just... break the bed?” You nod slowly, dazed. “Yeah. Yeah we did.” He covers his face with both hands. “I WAS JUST TRYING TO BE ROMANTIC.” You laugh. “We were LITERALLY just grinding. How did we collapse it?!” “I DON’T KNOW BABY, I’M SMALL. I DIDN’T THINK I HAD THAT IN ME.” He sits up carefully, looking around at the wreckage.. Then he immediately cups your face. “Are you okay?? Did I squish you?? Do you need ice?? Or a hug?? Or like… a new mattress??” You’re cry laughing. “Felix your face-” “I THOUGHT I WAS BEING SOFT.” “You were being something.” He buries his face in your chest. “I’m going to cry.” --- Later, you’re lying on the now-floor mattress, still tangled. He looks at you, blushing “Do we… tell the others?” “No. We lie.” Felix sighs. “Okay. But if they find screws, I’m blaming your thighs.” You raise a brow. “My thighs?!” “YES. You were squeezing. You were strong. I was just an innocent man in love.”

seungmin

“You’re moving too much.” “I’m literally on top of you.” “I know. You’re riding me like I owe you rent and this bed was made in 2018.” You roll your eyes and grind harder. Seungmin groans, arms behind his head, jaw clenched. “Shit—okay—fine—do what you want—just don’t blame me when we die.” The mattress creaks. Wobbles. You’re bouncing now, thighs burning, hair clinging to your forehead. Seungmin’s watching you with that look... half-lidded, breathless, deeply unimpressed by how much he's enjoying this. “God you’re insane” he mutters. “You’re gonna send me to church.” “Shut up and tak—” CREEAAKK SNAP. FULL. BED. COLLAPSE. The right side caves in like karma. The mattress slants violently. You fall forward. He slides sideways. He grunts. You shriek. THUD. Silence. Then Seungmin blinks up at the ceiling, deadpan “…Did we just break the bed?” You groan into his chest. “Technically, the bed broke itself...” “Oh my god. Oh my god. I told you!” You roll off of him, breathless and “You’re fine.” “I told you it was weak.” “You were also moaning like I reinvented sex” He points at you, still half-buried in the sheets. “I can multitask.” Later, you’re both lying on the sideways mattress like it’s a sinking ship. Seungmin sips water, glaring at the broken frame. “This is why we can’t have nice things.” You grin. “You mean why you can’t handle this ass.” He snorts. “This ass took us to home depot levels of damage.”

I.N

He’s beneath you, cheeks flushed, biting his lip as he moans under his breath. “Shit you’re gonna make me black out—” You’re riding him like it’s your life’s mission. Hands on his chest, pace unforgiving. “Don’t be dramatic” you pant. “I’m seeing the edge of the universe. That’s not dramatic. That’s spiritual!” You lean back, bouncing harder. He whimpers. “Okay-okay-you’re doing too much-!” “You like it.” “I like living, too.” CREAK. SNAP. CRASH. You drop like a ragdoll. He slides down with you, legs flailing, head smacking the headboard lightly as the bed frame gives the fuck up. You land on top of him in a pile of limbs and sin. He gasps, completely stunned. “…Did you just break the bed?” You blink. “ME?! I was literally doing what you begged for.” “I said slower. Like three times. You were riding like we had a time limit!” You sit up, scandalized. “You were moaning!” “Because I was terrified. You were ruthless. I thought I was being punished!” You shove his shoulder. “You were gripping my hips like handlebars!” He covers his chest dramatically. “I was hanging on for dear life! You were galloping!” --- Ten minutes later, you glance at the crooked frame. “The bed’s dead.” He sighs, stroking your thigh he’s comforting you through your mess. “I mean… it had a good life. But yeah. You finished it off.” “Stop gaslighting me!” He smirks. “I’m just a poor innocent boy. You, on the other hand... thighs of destruction.”

⤷ main m.list ❟

DISCLAIMER : This blog and all related content (fics, fake texts, headcanons, imagines, etc.) are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. I do not know Stray Kids personally, nor do I claim any of this reflects their real personalities, actions, or relationships. All characters and their personalities—including Meena King—are original creations.Please enjoy responsibly and remember : real people = real boundaries.

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gojosconsort · 1 month ago

Note

You're so good at the older bf! headcanons... how bout Mr. Should Kong? Much love x

OLDER BF!SHIU ♡ // HEADCANONS

⁀➷ CONTENT. you're shiu’s controversial younger girlfriend.

♡ PAIRING. afab!reader x older bf!shiu

♡ WARNINGS. mdni. added some x links. age gap, size difference, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), hair-pulling, spanking, public/semi-public sex, choking (with tie), degradation, praise kink, office sex, tummy bulge

♡ AUTHOR’S NOTE. AHHHHHH i love older men

OLDER BF!SHIU who first met you when you were some witness in a case he was stuck handling. he drove you home after, saying, “you’re safe now, dove, don’t sweat it.” slipped his card into your hand with a lazy, “call if you need me,” and peeled off—didn’t think much of it ‘til you called a week later.

OLDER BF!SHIU who showed up immediately when you called because he found you interesting (and pretty). then talking turned into kissing and next thing you know, he’s got you pinned on your couch, fucking you so deep your legs are jelly. left you sprawled out, panting, dripping with his cum while he lit a smoke.

OLDER BF!SHIU who loves eating you out very sloppy, sprawled on the bed, cig still smoldering in the ashtray, your thighs slung over his shoulders. he’s slurping you up, tongue digging in sloppy and wet, growling, “fuckin’ soak my face, princess,” ‘til you’re yanking his hair and dripping all over his chin.

OLDER BF!SHIU who won’t stop after you cum once. keeps his mouth or fingers on you, muttering, “one more, dove, i know your slutty little cunt’s got it,” ‘til you’re shaking and sobbing and he smirks, “there’s my fuckin’ girl,” loving how fucked-up you look.

OLDER BF!SHIU who towers over you with his broad shoulders, thick arms, and a cock so big it’s a struggle every time. loves pinning you down just to feel how tiny you are under him, smirking, “look at you—barely fit me in that little cunt.”

OLDER BF!SHIU who’s obsessed with the tummy bulge—every time he fucks you deep, he presses his hand right there, feeling himself move inside you. “fuck, look at that—my dick’s stretching you out,” he grunts, pounding harder just to see it push up, loving how you whimper about it being too much.

OLDER BF!SHIU who doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks about the age gap. he just smiles at nosy comments and slings an arm around you, “jealous i got her and you don’t?” later, he’s got you slammed against the wall, pounding you ‘til you’re screaming loud enough the whole damn block knows why you’re with him.

OLDER BF!SHIU who’s always got a cig hanging from his lips, catching you staring and smirking, “want a hit, huh?” grabs your chin, blows smoke into your mouth, then crashes his lips into yours, tongue shoving in hard, “you’re too fuckin’ young for this shit.”

OLDER BF!SHIU who loves showing you off, you in some skimpy little skirt, him in his suit. pulls you onto his lap at a dive bar, hand creeping up your thigh, muttering, “let ‘em stare, princess—they’re just mad they ain’t fuckin’ you.”

OLDER BF!SHIU who doesn’t care about kids but fuckin’ loves pumping you full. pins you down, growling, “gonna stuff you full, dove,” and unloads deep, and gets off on watching it spill out slow, “look at that—fuckin’ perfect, dripping with me.”

OLDER BF!SHIU who’s working late at the office when you get too loud—moaning like a slut while he’s got you bent over his desk. he rips his tie off, stuffs it in your mouth, and mutters, “shut the fuck up, dove—gonna get us caught,” then keeps fucking you raw, the muffled screams making him harder.

OLDER BF!SHIU who’s a lazy fuck but loves watching you work—lounges back on the couch or bed, cig between his lips, hands behind his head, “c’mon, dove, bounce on this dick.” loves how your tits jiggle while you ride him, smirking, “fuckin’ tire yourself out—i’m just here for the view.”

OLDER BF!SHIU who doesn’t bother with condoms half the time—slides in raw and rough, smirking, “shit feels better like this, yeah?” loves dumping his load deep, holding you still while he fills you, “gonna be leaking me all day, huh? nasty little thing.”

OLDER BF!SHIU who’s got that old-man stamina—fucks you hard and fast, flips you over, and keeps drilling ‘til you’re whining, “too much, shiu—fuck!” he just laughs, “tough shit, dove—you can handle it,” and pumps you full again, grinning as you collapse under him, a sweaty, cum-stuffed wreck.

OLDER BF!SHIU who grabs a fistful of your hair when he’s giving you backshots—yanks your head back while he’s slamming into you from behind, his other hand smacking your ass red. “take it, princess—fuckin’ love this tight little hole,” he growls, railing you ‘til the bed groans and your knees give out.

OLDER BF!SHIU who’s hunched over his desk, scribbling notes for his work, when you straddle his thigh, needy and whining. doesn’t even glance up, just smirks, “go on, dove, rub that needy pussy on me—i’m busy.” lets you soak his slacks ‘til he’s done, then grabs your hips, bends you over the desk, and yanks your panties down, “couldn’t wait, huh? needy little thing.”

————— ୨୧ —————

⁀➷ masterlist

#—amy writes : shiu kong ★#shiu kong smut #shiu smut #shiu kong x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #shiu kong x reader #shiu x reader #shiu kong x you #jjk x reader #divider by cafekitsune

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inbabylontheywept · 5 months ago

Text

the fine and subtle art of arguing with old men

it was a good week for testing which meant it was a slow week for me. most of my job is fixing the machine when it goes down. if it doesn't go down, i don't have much to do.

fortunately neither did marc. in a site full of ornery old bastards, he's the oldest and the orneriest, so it goes without saying that i enjoy spending time with him. he reminds me of my grandpa. hell, he reminds me of a lot of people. i've befriended enough grumpy old men that i've got a sort of momentum to it now - you know how it is, when you meet someone that reminds you of someone else you really like. you get to start that friendship off half built, because you already have an idea of how to like that guy, and some of that old warmth can be brought to the new friendship. a little ember to start the stove up with.

(i think that's one of the really undersold beauties of getting older. you stop viewing people as strangers and more like remixes of friends.)

anyway, i was sitting next to marc and we were talking about the future. i've got my eye on having kids sometime soon (year or two? hopefully?), and he's very happy for me. i've tried asking him for advice, but all he says is that he didn't do a great job with his own kids and they still turned out okay, so i should stress less and trust myself more. i hope he's right. he believes it, at least, and it's a hell of a thing to have the faith of an old man. his faith is hard won.

as for his plans, he's retiring at some point in the next six months, and is hoping to sell his home and buy something in florida. he's republican, so he views the state as paradise, and i'm not inclined to even try talking him out of it. it's his dream, you know? i know for a fact my paradise would be a lot of people's hell. life's funny like that.

still, we kept going on, and it was a good time, and then he reminisced about the last time he got close to quitting - back around 2020. our job required getting vaxxed, and he refused, and there was a big kerfuffle about it before the job actually backed down. i know there's not a lot of sympathy for the unvaxxed out here, but the man's 62. you get the shot when you're under 30 to protect the people around you, but when you're over 60, you're just getting it to protect yourself and it's hard to be mad at someone for kicking their own ass.

still gave me pause though. i knew he wasn't going to take it well, but half the job of collecting curmudgeons is keeping them around, so i said

hey. i'm sorry they bent your arm over it, but.

but.

you should really get that shot.

and he looked over at me, and i looked at him, and he actually spat. not on me, just the concrete, but it was enough to show that he was mad. then he walked away, as abrupt as anything.

i felt bad about it. i wasn't sure what i'd expected, when he was willing to lose his job over it before, but i'd been so invested in his dream of retirement - the idea of him sipping margaritias on a beach next to his wife, the wife he calls every day during lunch, the wife he says is the one thing in life he ever got right on the first try. the wife that almost divorced him back when he was in the airforce because he just wasn't home enough.

(but he can be home now.)

and then he mentioned the vax thing, and it was like seeing a pin hit a balloon. he works out every day and takes all sorts of crazy vitamins and is generally committed to getting the most out of his pension and his life. i didn't want this dumb weak point to be his achilles heel.

---

i wasn't actually sure how long marc would be mad at me. i've seen him stay mad at some people for weeks. i wasn't sure if being friends would make that time go up or down.

it went down. i'm glad it went down.

he stopped being mad about two days later. we were doing front end maintenance one morning, and it was just that simple mechanical rhythm - hex key, replace the anode sheets, punch some off-gassing holes, oil it up, put it back in - that put things at ease. it always does. people working there are too busy to remember grudges, and it has this sort of mandatory practical communication that helps smooth things over. it was going great, and then out of the blue he said babs, you gotta be careful giving advice. those shots come with complications. what would you do if i got that shot, had a stroke, and died?

and i don't know what answer he was expecting, but i just told him the truth, which is that i would be devastated. i'd feel like i killed him. i thought that was a pretty normal response, but he looked taken aback. he asked why i said it then, and i said i'd have felt the same if he died of covid. that's just life. sometimes, there's no way forward that doesn't risk some kind of regret.

we finished the tube after that, in a silence that felt heavier than peace but lighter than anger. it felt like the ball was back in marc's court. like it would be rude to take that turn from him.

we parted ways with a nod and didn't speak until the next day.

---

i was doing spreadsheet work when he found me again. standard paper engineering - thinking of things we might need and ordering them in batches, months ahead of time. it always feels a little like plugging holes in a dam with my fingers.

but he popped up, and we didn't even exchange pleasantries. he just said i'm gonna die one day, and you can't blame yourself for that.

which is a hell of a thing to just tell someone right off the bat.

so i said what

and he said babs, i am in my 60s. something is gonna get me eventually, and whether it's covid or heart disease, or a stroke, there will be something you could have said or done before. and that's okay. it's not your job to make me live forever.

and you know, he actually made a lot of sense. so i said

okay.

i'll keep your business yours. i just

you were talking about your retirement before this. and i want that for you very much. you've worked hard for 45 years, and you deserve a break. we're getting to sick season, and it would be the saddest fucking thing in the world if you got this close to winning the race then tripped in the last ten feet.

and we sat there a few moments longer. i wasn't sure what to say, and i wasn't sure what he'd say, but eventually he just shrugged and said

yeah

then he left. i figured that would be the end of it.

---

i did front end maintenance yesterday, after being gone a week. it's one of my favorite things to do. i like working with my hands. i really like working with my hands. i'm glad i went to college, but in a different life, i think i could've made a better electrician than an electrical engineer.

and at one step, when we were both hoisting the plate back onto the machine, his sleeve rode up, and i saw two bandaids on his arm.

we finished the install, and i was ready to go back when marc actually stopped me.

i got the shot, he said, almost embarrassed. like he'd been caught. and i knew he was gonna say something dumb about it, so i just cut him off by giving him a hug.

i was relieved. hugging old men is kind of like picking up cats. if they like you a lot, they'll tolerate it, but that's about it. we sat there maybe three beats before his hands went up, and then he gave me one overly-hard thump on the back. in my experience, this is how old men tell you that they're done, so i let him go.

carla talked me into it, he said, almost defensive. his wife. his one good decision.

tell her i said thanks, i said back.

trump got the shot too, he said, less defensive, but oddly pleading. like he was consoling himself.

like he was nervous.

then it's gotta be safe, i said, and he looked up at me, strangely searching, strangely vulnerable. i don't know exactly what he was looking for, but i guess he found it because after a few moments his shoulders relaxed.

yeah, he said, one hand on the back of his head.

it's gotta be.

#babylon-lore #covid shots #work stories

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noorpersona · 15 days ago

Text

Favourite Positions: Hinata

You didn’t usually date short guys.

It wasn’t personal—just a preference. You liked being manhandled. Liked being tossed around, bent over, pinned. You’d always thought height made that easier. You wanted to be overwhelmed, and you never thought someone with a boyish grin and a 174 cm frame would be the one to do it.

But Hinata Shōyō?

Was a beast.

Not just in the way he moved, though that was devastating enough. He had stamina for days, legs like pistons, arms strong enough to lift you like you weighed nothing. But it was the way he looked at you when he was inside you—like he was starved, like he was built for this. Like your pleasure was his mission.

And when you were underneath him? Flat on your back, legs thrown over his shoulders, Hinata kneeling over you with your ankles hooked behind his neck?

There was no going back.

“I wanna see everything,” he’d whispered the first time, flushed and breathless, the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance. “Wanna see your face when I make you lose it.”

And now?

Now he was fucking you like he meant it.

Your thighs trembled where they rested over his shoulders, calves draped down his back as his hips snapped into yours. His hands were braced beside your head, body bent forward so his chest hovered over yours. The position had you folded nearly in half, stretched wide, completely taken.

“So—tight,” he groaned, jaw clenched as he pounded into you with brutal rhythm, curls damp and clinging to his forehead. “God, you feel… fuck… you feel so good.”

Your back arched off the bed, fingers fisting the sheets, eyes fluttering as pleasure crackled through your nerves.

“Shōyō—too deep, it’s too much—”

“No,” he gasped, snapping his hips harder, “It’s perfect. You can take it. Just hold on, I’ve got you.”

You sobbed as his cock hit that devastating spot inside you over and over, your body clenching, quivering. The position had you stretched and pinned, his body grinding into yours with relentless force. You could feel the headboard banging against the wall, the slap of skin-on-skin loud in the air.

Hinata leaned closer, your knees nearly pressed to your chest, and he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together as he fucked you harder.

“I wanna see it,” he panted, eyes fixed on your face. “Come for me. Right now. Let me see how pretty you look when you break.”

And you did.

You shattered with a scream, back arching violently, mouth falling open in a ragged cry as your orgasm slammed through you. Your vision went white, your body seizing under the weight of the pleasure, twitching uncontrollably. You couldn’t even breathe—couldn’t think.

It didn’t stop.

He kept fucking you through it, hips rolling hard and deep, watching you fall apart beneath him like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Your hands clawed at his arms, thighs trembling wildly, mouth babbling nonsense—you didn’t even realize what you were saying. You were crying. Moaning. Whimpering please and don’t stop in the same breath.

Hinata groaned, deep and broken, and you felt his rhythm falter just slightly before he buried himself deep, grinding his hips hard into yours as he came with a strangled gasp. The warmth of him flooding you only sent another pulse of aftershock through your body, another twitch of oversensitivity that made your breath catch.

He stayed there, chest heaving, forehead resting against yours.

Your chest was heaving, fingers twitching, mind blank except for the echo of your own voice—broken, desperate, high-pitched and gasping his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say.

Your body was still convulsing in little aftershocks when Hinata leaned over you, his breath warm and uneven, and started pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

First to your collarbone. Then lower.

His lips trailed down the curve of your breast, lingering over the swell as his hand spread wide over your stomach—grounding you, holding you, but never still.

You jolted when his mouth dipped lower again, his tongue lapping at the sheen of sweat on your ribs, and then his lips brushed just under your navel.

“Shōyō—” you whimpered, voice rasping from overuse, hips twitching.

He smiled against your skin, kissed lower.

“Too much?” he whispered, but didn’t stop. He was everywhere—on your hips, your thighs, your waist, like he needed to taste every part of what he just ruined.

Every place his mouth touched made you flinch, a fresh wave of oversensitivity crawling across your skin. But you didn’t stop him.

You couldn’t.

And neither could he.

By the time he leaned up again, his hands were back on your waist, thumbs stroking soft, absentminded circles against your flushed skin. His eyes were bright, cheeks still a little pink, and his grin—smug, breathless, a little crooked—stole the last of your breath.

“Wanna go again?”

You blinked. And despite the fact that your legs were jelly, your brain scrambled, your body completely wrecked—you still managed to nod.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face.

Yeah. You didn’t usually date short guys.

But Hinata wasn’t like anyone else.

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mintyys-blog · 1 month ago

Text

RAIN CHECK — dick grayson x reader

WARNINGS: smut, interrupted sex

The universe was actively conspiring against you and Dick Grayson.

It had been an entire month since you had gotten your hands on him properly, and every single time you tried, something interrupted. At first, it was almost funny—a minor inconvenience, a little bad luck. But after the sixth time? It was personal.

Attempt one: A perfect date night. Wine, candles, your dress slipping off your shoulders as Dick kissed down your neck. Then—his comms buzzed. Emergency. Gotham needed Nightwing.

Attempt two: A weekend getaway. Just the two of you in a cozy cabin. No crime, no distractions. Just as things were heating up? Your best friend called in full-blown crisis mode. She’d just been dumped and showed up at your door, crying into your robe.

Attempt three: The worst one. You were actually naked this time, pinned under him on your bed, fingers tangled in his hair, both of you breathless. Then—Alfred called. And you both knew better than to ignore that call.

And on and on it went.

A car chase. A literal explosion. Jason barging into Dick’s apartment unannounced, flopping onto the couch with a “Don’t mind me.”

By week three, you were beyond frustrated. At week four, you were considering drastic measures.

So, tonight? It was happening. No interruptions. No excuses.

Dick had just finished patrol when you called, your voice dripping with honey.

“Hey, handsome. You busy?”

He smirked, already peeling off his domino mask as he entered his apartment. “Not anymore. What’s up?”

You bit your lip. “I’m home alone… and I was thinking about you.”

That got his attention.

“Yeah?” His voice dropped an octave.

“Mhm. And I may or may not be wearing a satin robe and absolutely nothing underneath it.”

Silence. Then a sharp exhale.

“Give me ten minutes,” he said, already grabbing his keys.

You grinned, twirling a piece of your hair. “I was hoping for five, but I’ll take it.”

“Brat,” he muttered affectionately before hanging up.

He was on his bike in seconds, weaving through the streets of Blüdhaven, hell-bent on getting to you.

And then, because fate had a twisted sense of humor, he saw the flashing lights.

A bank robbery.

“Son of a—”

Gritting his teeth, he veered toward the chaos, pulling on his mask mid-ride. He parked a block away and hit his comm.

“Babe, change of plans. Quick detour.”

You sighed, swirling your wine in your glass. “Should I even ask?”

“Bank robbery. Five guys. Shouldn’t take long.”

You took a sip. “Mmm, take your time. I’ll just be here… in my robe… all alone.”

Dick groaned. “You’re evil.”

Then you heard it—the unmistakable sounds of combat. Grunts, the crack of a punch landing, the sharp zing of his escrima sticks.

Then gunfire.

You tensed, gripping the stem of your glass. “Dick?”

“Still here, babe,” he gritted out, followed by a loud thud—probably a body hitting the floor.

You rolled your eyes, propping your feet up on the coffee table. “You better not be getting shot while I’m sitting here half-naked waiting for you.”

“Not a scratch, promise.”

More scuffling, then silence. A second later, his voice came through, breathless but victorious.

“Alright, I’m back on the bike. ETA four minutes.”

You smirked. “Mmm, you gonna make it up to me, Nightwing?”

“You have no idea.”

You bit your lip. “Hurry, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You hung up, anticipation thrumming through you.

And, true to his word, exactly four minutes later, your living room window slid open.

Dick stepped inside, still in full Nightwing gear, his hair wind-swept and messy. His mask was on, but you could see the heat in his gaze as he looked at you—your satin robe loose around your body, wine glass still in hand.

“Hi,” you purred.

He exhaled, shaking his head with a grin. “God, I missed you.”

Then he was on you, his lips crashing against yours, lifting you effortlessly.This time, nothing was going to interrupt. His lips crashed against yours, hot and desperate, like he had been starving for this just as much as you had. His gloved hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, the cool material of his suit contrasting with the warmth of your bare skin beneath your robe.

You barely had a moment to breathe before he was walking you backward, his mouth never leaving yours. You let out a soft gasp as the backs of your knees hit the couch, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

“You’re still in your suit,” you murmured against his lips, fingers tracing the emblem on his chest.

“Couldn’t wait,” he admitted, voice husky. “Didn’t even take off my boots.”

You smirked, running your hands up his chest, feeling the hard lines of his armor. “Well, I do like a man in uniform.”

Dick groaned, dropping his head to your neck, kissing along your pulse point. “You are so lucky I love you.”

You grinned, tilting your head to give him better access. “Mm, I really am.”

His hands slid to the tie of your robe, his fingers brushing over the silky fabric. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression dark with want. “Can I?”

You exhaled slowly, nodding. “God, yes.”

He tugged the robe open, his hands skimming your sides as he pushed it off your shoulders. The cool air sent goosebumps across your skin, but his touch was burning hot, his gaze drinking you in like he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

“Jesus,” he breathed, his hands tightening on your hips. “You’re so—”

The ringing of his comm cut him off.

You both froze.

Your eyes widened in horror as Dick let out a slow, controlled exhale through his nose. He squeezed his eyes shut, muttering something under his breath before tapping the device in his ear.

“Grayson, we need you back at—”

He ripped the comm out of his ear and tossed it across the room.

Your eyes flicked from the now-silent device to his face.

“That’s it,” he said, voice dangerously low. “I am done being interrupted.”

Before you could even process, he grabbed you, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. A startled laugh left your lips as he carried you toward your bedroom, his lips crashing against yours again.

“Door locked, comms off, phones on silent,” he murmured between kisses.

“Agreed,” you breathed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Good,” he growled. “Because you’re not getting rid of me until morning.”

Dick kicked the bedroom door shut behind him, his grip on you firm yet reverent, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go.

“You say that like I’d want to get rid of you,” you teased, your breath hitching as his fingers dug into your thighs, still holding you effortlessly.

“You better not after everything we’ve been through just to get here,” he murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, then another down your neck. “I swear, if someone knocks on that door—”

“They won’t,” you promised, threading your fingers through his dark hair and tugging just enough to earn a delicious groan from him. “And even if they do, I’m not answering.”

“Good,” he murmured before finally lowering you onto the bed. He hovered over you, his masked gaze raking over your body, his gloved hands tracing slow, deliberate patterns on your skin.

You sighed contentedly, stretching beneath him, knowing full well the effect it had on him. His breath stuttered, his jaw tightening as you arched your back ever so slightly.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Not before you make it worth my while.”

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Dick rolled his shoulders, exhaling sharply before finally—finally—tugging off his gloves, then his domino mask, tossing them both to the side. His bright blue eyes met yours, intense and full of heat.

Then he was kissing you again—deeper, slower, more possessive. His hands slid over every inch of exposed skin, like he was making up for lost time, like he was claiming you.

And you? You had absolutely no objections.

You reached for the fastenings of his suit, but he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with ease. “Uh-uh,” he murmured against your lips. “I go first.”

A shiver ran through you at the dark promise in his voice.

“You gonna take your time with me, Grayson?” you teased, your pulse quickening.

He smirked, his grip tightening just enough to send a thrill down your spine.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, lips ghosting over your ear. “You have no idea.”

The way he looked at you—like he’d been starving for you, like he was memorizing every inch of you—sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

“Dick,” you breathed, shifting beneath him, trying to free your wrists.

He just smirked, holding you there with ease. “Something you need?”

“Yeah,” you said, arching slightly to brush your body against his. “Less clothes.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Patience.”

You huffed, rolling your hips up against him in retaliation. That wiped the smirk off his face. His grip on your wrists faltered for half a second—just long enough for you to slip free and push at the seams of his suit.

“Not fair,” he muttered, though he was already helping you peel off the top half of his suit, shoving it down his arms and tossing it to the floor.

You sucked in a sharp breath. No matter how many times you’d seen him like this, it never got old—the way his muscles flexed under your touch, the scars that told stories of battles won, the way his chest rose and fell, his breaths growing heavier with every second.

Your fingers traced the defined ridges of his abdomen, then dragged up to his shoulders. “You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, just because you could.

A faint pink dusted his cheeks, but the look in his eyes darkened. “Sweetheart,” he warned, voice rough.

You grinned, pulling him down for another kiss. This one was slower, deeper, your hands threading into his hair as his weight pressed you into the mattress.

His lips trailed lower, down the column of your throat, to your collarbone, and lower still. Each kiss, each lingering touch, felt like an unspoken apology for every interrupted moment before this one.

And for the first time in weeks, there was nothing standing in your way. No comms buzzing in his ear, no phone ringing at the worst possible moment. Just the two of you, tangled together, making up for lost time.

And when he finally, finally gave you what you wanted, you were both in full agreement— No more rain checks.

The night unfolded in slow, deliberate movements—like the two of you were savoring every second, making up for every lost moment, every interruption that had kept you apart.

Dick worshipped you, his hands mapping your body like he was relearning every inch of you, his lips tracing paths of fire across your skin. He took his time, dragging out every touch, every kiss, making you feel the frustration of the past month melt away in waves of pleasure.

And when he finally, finally gave in, it was nothing short of desperate.

Your name spilled from his lips like a prayer, his voice hoarse as he groaned against your skin. His grip on your hips was firm but reverent, his body pressed against yours as he moved with slow, deep strokes that had you clinging to him, gasping his name between breathless moans. He slid in easily, your body aching for him.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered against your neck, his breath ragged, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. “You feel so good…”

Your fingers raked down his back, nails leaving faint red lines in their wake. “Don’t stop,” you pleaded, tilting your head back, letting him press open-mouthed kisses to your throat. Your legs locked around his waist, and he pulled your hips closer.

“Not a chance,” he groaned.

His movements were unrelenting, each thrust sending sparks of heat through you, winding you tighter and tighter until you were right there, gripping onto him for dear life.

“Dick—”

“I got you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “Let go.”

And you did.

The pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body arching into him as he guided you through it, his lips murmuring soft praises against your skin. He followed soon after, a deep, shuddering groan leaving his lips as he buried himself deep, his body tensing before he finally collapsed against you, breathless and spent.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your mingled breaths, your fingers idly tracing patterns on his back as he pressed lazy kisses to your shoulder.

Then, finally, he chuckled—low and satisfied. “Worth the wait?”

You exhaled a soft laugh, threading your fingers through his messy hair. “Hell yes.”

He rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest, his arm draped over your waist. “Good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You arched a brow, smirking. “Oh?”

His grip on you tightened slightly, his blue eyes dark with mischief. “Baby, I just spent a month pent up for you. I owe you at least three more rounds.”

You laughed, tangling your legs with his. “That so?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He kissed you again, slower this time, full of promises.

And this time, there was nothing standing in your way.

The second time was slower, almost lazy—like he was savoring every inch of you, making up for lost time. His lips traced along your jaw, down your neck, his hands mapping your body as he moved against you with deliberate, intoxicating precision.

The third time? Filthy.

By then, neither of you had anything left to prove. No teasing, no buildup—just pure, raw desperation. Dick had you pressed into the mattress, his name falling from your lips in breathless gasps as he drove into you like he was making up for every second you’d spent apart. Your legs were thrown over his shoulders, as he drove in as deeply as he could.

And when it was over, when you were both thoroughly spent and tangled together in the sheets, you lay there in the aftermath, your body still humming from him.

Dick sighed deeply, his fingers tracing absentminded circles on your bare back. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed in my entire life.”

You chuckled against his chest, pressing a lazy kiss over his heartbeat. “I told you all you needed was a night off.”

He hummed, tilting his head back against the pillow, his eyes slipping shut. “Yeah, well. Next time, we’re taking two nights off.”

You smirked, running your fingers through his messy hair. “Mm. You planning ahead, Grayson?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he muttered, shifting to pull you even closer. “I’m never going a month without this again.”

You exhaled a soft laugh, nuzzling into him. “Guess I should keep the satin robe handy then?”

He groaned, rolling onto his side so he could kiss you again, deep and slow. “Sweetheart, if you wear that robe again, I will cancel patrol.”

You grinned against his lips. “Promises, promises.”

He smirked, brushing his nose against yours. “You love when I break the rules.” You kissed his jaw, “so no more rain checks?” He laughed, pulling you closer, “No more rain checks, babe.”

#x reader #reader insert #x female reader #dc #dc comics #dc universe #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x you #nightwing x reader #nightwing #girlfriend! reader #smut #dc smut #nightwing smut

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sweetmisery · 2 months ago

Text

touch me, tease me | choi jiung

summary: what started as a silly crush, ended with this - pinned beneath Jiung, his touch slow, deliberate torment. only one thought lingers on your mind: how much longer could you withstand Jiung‘s teasing?

pairing: jiung x female!reader

genre: smut

warnings: mdni! foreplay (f receiving), protected sex, looots of teasing

word count: 10k

a/n: well that escalated quickly lol this wasn‘t meant to be this long but i just couldn‘t stop writing about teasing Jiung 😝 (also blonde Jiung is just ugh!!!) it's been a while since i have written smut and i like keeping it a little decent 🙈 thank you @lilacs4ung for requesting this, i hope this matches your suggestions :) hope you enjoy reading it ♡

The club was loud, music pulsing through the air, lights flashing in chaotic patterns, and bodies moving in every direction. You had lost track of how many drinks you had, but you knew it was enough to make the room spin slightly. Keeho and Intak had kept a close eye on you all night, laughing at your slightly clumsy movements but making sure you didn’t get into too much trouble.

You stumbled off the dance floor, giggling at absolutely nothing, and found them sitting at a booth near the bar. They looked up as you approached, and Keeho immediately raised an eyebrow.

"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching out to steady you as you nearly tripped over your own feet.

Intak, on the other hand, just laughed. "Yeah, you don’t look okay," he teased. "Maybe we should get you home?"

You shook your head, then paused to steady yourself. “Can we go to your place?”

Keeho and Intak exchanged a glance.

"Whyyy?" Keeho asked, dragging the word out as if he already knew you were about to say something stupid.

You didn’t even hesitate. “Because Jiung is there.”

The second the words left your mouth, you realized your mistake.

Silence stretched between the three of you, the club’s pounding music suddenly background noise compared to the sheer weight of your drunken confession. You watched as Keeho and Intak turned to each other, their confusion melting into matching smirks.

“Ohhh,” Intak said, grinning from ear to ear.

Keeho leaned in, eyebrows raised. "Interesting."

Your stomach dropped. "What?"

Intak nudged Keeho. "She wants to go to our place because Jiung is there."

Keeho gasped dramatically. "Wait- could it be? Our dear friend has a crush?"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Can we just go?"

Keeho and Intak exchanged another knowing look, their grins widening. They didn’t say anything as they grabbed their coats, but you just knew this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

“So, since when have you had the hots for Jiung?” Keeho asked, his voice dripping with amusement.

You rolled your eyes, stumbling slightly as you walked. "I don't have the hots for him."

Intak snickered. "Uh-huh. Sure. That’s why you immediately asked to go to our place when you found out he was there?"

The alcohol had you feeling bold or reckless, maybe both, so you huffed and threw your hands up. “Fine! I think he’s hot! Like, stupidly, unfairly hot! I mean, have you seen him? His jawline? His voice? His hands?”

Keeho and Intak bursted into laughter, but you were on a roll now.

“And he’s so… I don’t know, cool. Like, effortlessly cool. It’s annoying! And don’t even get me started on when he wears those sleeveless shirts because oh my god. I want him so bad-”

You stopped. The realization hit like a truck. Your eyes went wide as your drunken brain catched up with what your mouth had been spewing for the past minute and a half.

Slowly, you turned to look at Keeho and Intak, who were now wheezing, practically crying from laughter. Keeho was bent over, gripping his stomach, while Intak was clutching onto his shoulder for support.

"Oh no," you whispered, horrified. "I talked too much."

Keeho wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh, you sure did."

Intak grinned. "I think my favorite part was when you said you wanted him."

You choked. "I said what?"

Keeho smirked. "You said, and I quote - 'I want him so bad.'"

You stared at them in absolute horror as the words replayed in your head. You did say that. Out loud.

"Take me home," you mumbled, covering your face. "Bury me in the ground. I don't exist anymore."

But Keeho just threws an arm around your shoulder, shaking his head with a devilish grin. "Oh no, we're definitely going to our place now."

"And you're definitely facing Jiung," Intak added.

You were doomed.

The ride to Keeho and Intak’s apartment was torture. They wouldn’t shut up about Jiung, throwing your own words back at you every chance they got. You threatened to jump out of the car, but that only made them laugh harder.

By the time you arrived, you were fully expecting to die of embarrassment the moment you stepped inside. But then - relief.

Jiung wasn’t there.

“Thank god,” you mumbled under your breath, slumping against the doorway.

Keeho glanced at his phone. “He must be working late,” he muttered before tossing his keys onto the counter. “Lucky you.”

You let out a huge sigh and stumbled toward the couch, throwing yourself onto it dramatically. The cushions were soft, and your body finally relaxed now that the immediate threat of Jiung witnessing your humiliation had passed.

But Keeho and Intak? They weren’t about to let you off the hook so easily.

“So…” Keeho dragged out the word as he flopped onto the couch beside you.

Intak plopped down on the armrest, grinning. “Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you said you want Jiung?”

You groaned, burying your face in a pillow. “Can we please forget that happened?”

Keeho scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

"You said you want him," Intak reminded you, smirking. “So, maybe you should try to get him.”

You lifted your head just enough to glare at him. “Yeah? And how do you suggest I do that?”

Keeho shrugged. “I mean, Jiung is still single. He’d definitely be down for a little fun.”

Intak hummed in agreement. “He hasn’t been with a girl in a while, so honestly? He’s probably just as desperate as you are.”

You choked. “Excuse me?”

Intak grinned. “I’m just saying…”

“Stop,” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. The heat creeping up your neck was unbearable, and it only got worse when Intak and Keeho exchanged that look, like they were already planning ways to make this worse for you.

But thankfully, after a few more minutes of teasing, they seemed to get bored of torturing you. Keeho stretched with a yawn. “Alright, I’m heading to bed. Don’t stay up all night thinking about Jiung, okay?”

Intak smirked as he stood up. “Or do. Might help you manifest something.”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He dodged effortlessly, laughing as he disappeared into his room. Keeho followed, leaving you alone in the living room.

You exhaled deeply and sank further into the couch, exhausted. The apartment was quiet now, the only sound being the distant hum of the city outside. The warmth of the alcohol still lingered in your body, making your eyelids heavy. You didn’t even bother grabbing a blanket. The couch was comfortable enough, and after the chaos of the night, sleep took you instantly.

The first thing you felt when you woke up was a pounding headache. The second was the realization that you weren’t in your own bed. Your eyes fluttered open, and as you stared at the ceiling, it took you a moment to remember - Keeho and Intak’s apartment. The place they shared with Jiung.

Panic set in.

You groaned softly, rubbing your face as memories from last night started flooding back. The club. The drinks. The things you had told the boys about Jiung.

Oh god.

You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment, silently praying that Jiung hadn’t seen you passed out on the couch. Maybe he still wasn’t home. Maybe you could sneak out before anyone noticed. Slowly, you sat up, scanning the apartment. The place was quiet, and there was no sign of Keeho or Intak. That was a good sign, right? You quickly gathered your things, trying to be as quiet as possible. If you could just slip out the door without making a sound-

"Leaving already?"

You froze.

That voice was too familiar. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned around, heart pounding.

There he was.

Jiung stood a few feet away, looking effortlessly attractive despite being dressed casually in sweatpants and a hoodie. His bleached hair was slightly messy, and the soft morning light from the window made him look even more unreal.

You let out an awkward laugh, trying to mask your nervousness. “Uh- yeah. I need to shower and everything.”

Jiung tilted his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You can shower here.”

You blinked. What?

Before you could respond, he walked past you toward the kitchen. “I was about to make breakfast,” he added casually. “It’d be a shame if you couldn’t try the best pancakes in the world.”

Your brain short-circuited. Jiung was… inviting you to stay? Why was he being so nice to you all of a sudden? You had never really talked much before, and now he was offering you a shower and pancakes?

You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. “O-okay. I’ll just ask Keeho if I can borrow some clothes.”

Jiung nodded before disappearing into the kitchen, leaving you standing there, completely dazed.

As you made your way to the bathroom, your mind raced. Was Jiung just being polite? Or did he- no, stop. Don’t overthink this. Still, as you closed the bathroom door behind you, you couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh.

This man was going to make you suffer.

After a quick shower and changing into the clothes Keeho lent you, you took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom. The scent of fresh pancakes and syrup filled the air, making your stomach grumble. As you entered the kitchen, Keeho, Intak, and Jiung were already sitting at the table, plates of food in front of them.

The moment Intak spotted you, he grinned and, with a mouth full of food, yelled, "Good morning, drunkard!"

You froze.

Keeho burst out laughing, and even Jiung let out a small chuckle as your entire face heated up. You groaned, rubbing your temples as you sat down at the table, avoiding their amused gazes. "Can you not?"

"Sorry, sorry," Intak said, clearly not sorry at all. "You just had a lot to say last night. Very entertaining stuff."

You shot him a glare before quickly turning your attention to the plate in front of you. The food looked incredible, but more than anything, you found yourself staring at the stack of pancakes Jiung had made. They were golden brown, drizzled with syrup, and smelled heavenly.

You picked up your fork and took a bite, your eyes widening slightly. "Oh my god."

Jiung glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. "Good?"

"So good," you admitted, immediately taking another bite.

He smirked slightly before focusing back on his own food. Keeho, however, wasn’t about to let the moment slide.

"So, what’s the plan for today?" Keeho asked, stretching lazily.

Jiung leaned back in his chair. "We could just stay in. Play some video games, watch some movies."

Intak nodded. "Sounds good to me."

You swallowed the last of your pancake and wiped your hands on a napkin. "I should probably head home after breakfast."

You expected them to just nod, but instead, Jiung looked up from his plate. "You can chill with us if you want."

Your heart stopped for a second.

Keeho and Intak both turned to look at you, and you could practically feel their knowing smirks burning into your skin. Why was Jiung asking you to stay? You weren’t even that close. You’d barely talked before.

You hesitated, still processing his words, but then… you realized something. This was your chance. Your chance to get closer to him, even if it was going to be awkward as hell now that Keeho and Intak knew just how down bad you were for Jiung.

You cleared your throat, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. "Uh… yeah. I guess I could stay a little longer."

Intak smirked. Keeho wiggled his eyebrows. Jiung just nodded and continued eating like he hadn’t just thrown your entire world into chaos.

You were so doomed.

The day had gone by in a blur of video games, silly movies, and way too much teasing from Keeho and Intak. You had done your best to act normal around Jiung, but every time you glanced in his direction, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

Now, as the evening settled in, you stretched your arms and let out a small sigh. “Alright, I should really head home now.” You glanced at the others, expecting someone to offer to drive you. “Anyone down to take me?”

Keeho suddenly let out an exaggerated yawn, stretching his arms. “Ahh, I’m so tired. I think I need to go to bed right now.”

You narrowed your eyes. Liar.

Intak smirked. “Yeah, same. I have to prep some things for work.”

Before you could argue, Keeho turned to Jiung, grinning way too much. “Jiung can drive you home.”

Your stomach dropped.

Jiung barely hesitated before nodding. “Sure, I can do that.”

You swore you heard Intak snicker under his breath. Keeho gave you a pointed look, and before you could even react, both of them were already heading toward their rooms, leaving you alone with Jiung.

You glared at the hallway where they disappeared, knowing full well they did that on purpose.

Jiung grabbed his jacket and car keys before turning to you. “Got everything?”

You nodded quickly, still trying to process that this was actually happening. “Yeah.”

The two of you headed outside, the air crisp against your skin as you climbed into Jiung’s car. The moment he started the engine, a thick awkward silence settled between you. You stared straight ahead, your hands resting in your lap, too aware of his presence beside you. Jiung, in his usual effortless way, didn’t seem fazed at all. But you? Your thoughts were racing.

Then, after a beat, Jiung reached for the console and turned on some music, filling the quiet with a soft melody. You exhaled, relaxing a little. But then, as you subtly glanced at him from the corner of your eye, a new problem presented itself.

Jiung looked… insanely attractive when driving.

The way his hands gripped the steering wheel, the faint glow of the dashboard lights reflecting off his skin, the relaxed expression on his face as he focused on the road - it was almost too much.

You swallowed, quickly looking away. This is fine. Just act normal.

But no matter how hard you tried, the thought wouldn’t leave your head.

The rest of the drive to your apartment had been quiet, aside from the soft hum of the music playing through the speakers. You spent most of the time overthinking, stealing glances at Jiung while trying to act normal.

But somehow, you had survived.

As Jiung pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex, he slowed to a stop. You exhaled, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. Relief because you finally made it home without embarrassing yourself, but disappointment because you didn’t want the night to end just yet.

You turned to Jiung with a small smile. “Thanks for the ride.”

He nodded, lips quirking up slightly. “Anytime.”

You reached for the car door handle, ready to step out - but then, a thought hit you.

This was it. Your chance.

You had spent so long admiring Jiung from a distance, always feeling like there was some invisible barrier between you two. But now, after everything that had happened today, the breakfast, the movies, the car ride, you felt closer to him than ever. If you didn’t take this opportunity now… would you ever get another one?

Your heart pounded. Before you could talk yourself out of it, the words left your mouth.

"Do you maybe… wanna come up?"

The second you said it, regret hit you like a truck.

Why did you say that?!

Jiung was probably going to turn you down, politely decline, and you’d have to live with the embarrassment for the rest of your life. You braced yourself, already planning how you’d laugh it off and pretend you weren’t dying inside. But then-

“I’d love to.”

Your breath caught. You turned to him, eyes wide, expecting him to be joking. But Jiung just looked at you, completely serious. He wanted to come up.

You quickly nodded, trying to ignore the way your pulse was racing. “O-okay. Cool. Yeah. Let’s go.”

Jiung smirked slightly, unbuckling his seatbelt.

As you both stepped out of the car and walked toward your building, one thought consumed your mind. What the hell did you just get yourself into?

The moment you stepped inside your apartment, a strange, heavy tension filled the air. Jiung followed behind you, his presence impossible to ignore. You set your things down, pretending to be busy while trying to calm your racing heart.

Jiung leaned casually against the wall, watching you with a small smirk, as if he could tell just how nervous you were. Then, his voice cut through the silence. "So… why did you invite me up?"

You froze.

Your breath hitched as you turned to look at him, caught completely off guard. "I- uh- I just thought maybe you wanted to, you know… chill a bit more before heading home."

Jiung raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Oh?" He tilted his head slightly, taking a slow step closer. "And why do you think I agreed to come up?"

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the way he was looking at you. There was a small pause, the tension between you both thick enough to drown in.

Then, finally, Jiung spoke again. "Well… if I'm being honest… I wanted to spend some time alone with you."

Your mind went blank.

What.

Did he just-?

You stared at him, trying to process his words, but your brain refused to function. Jiung could sense your nervousness, and instead of backing off, he only made it worse. He took another step forward, closing the space between you. His voice dropped slightly, teasing yet soft. "Isn’t that what you wanted too?"

Your head snapped up, eyes locking with his. Your throat went dry. Your heart was pounding. You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat before you finally stammered out, “Y-y-yes.”

Jiung’s lips curved into a soft smile, and before you could even react, he reached out and gently took your hand in his. "You don’t need to be nervous," he murmured. His thumb brushed lightly over the back of your hand, sending shivers down your spine.

But how could you not be nervous? Jiung was this close, his touch was this gentle, his gaze was this intense. How were you supposed to survive this moment without completely falling apart?

Jiung’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand again, his grip gentle but so distracting. You felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, the air thick with something undeniable.

“I have to admit something,” Jiung said, his voice smooth yet laced with amusement.

You blinked, still trying to get your heart rate under control. “W-what?”

He leaned in slightly, the teasing glint in his eyes unmistakable. “Keeho and Intak told me about what you said at the club.”

The world stopped.

Your entire body went stiff. Your face felt like it had been set on fire. The ground beneath you? Gone. The last shred of your dignity? Disintegrated.

Jiung knew.

He knew what you had said about him. That you found him hot. That you wanted him.

Your brain screamed at you to run, to somehow escape this nightmare, but your body betrayed you, completely frozen in place.

Jiung tilted his head, watching your reaction with pure amusement. “You’re really quiet all of a sudden.”

You snapped out of your panic just long enough to stumble over an apology. “I- I’m so sorry, I was just really drunk, and I didn’t know what I was saying, and I-”

Jiung’s expression shifted slightly. His eyebrows furrowed, and his grip on your hand tightened just a little. “So you didn’t actually mean what you said?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Crap.

You had meant it. Every. Single. Word. But how were you supposed to admit that to his face? You could barely even breathe properly around him, and now he was expecting you to just… say it? You scrambled for an answer, but before you could even attempt to dig yourself out of the hole you were in, Jiung let out a small sigh.

“Well, too bad.”

Your breath hitched.

Jiung’s gaze locked onto yours, and with the most casual expression in the world, he added, “Because I was just about to tell you that I feel the same way about you.”

What. The. Hell.

Your brain short-circuited. Your mouth fell open, but nothing - absolutely nothing - came out.

He felt the same way? Since when?! You couldn’t process it. Couldn’t even react properly. All you could do was stare at him in complete shock, your heart threatening to explode. Jiung, on the other hand? He looked so smug. So completely amused by your flustered reaction. And you? You were absolutely doomed.

Jiung chuckled softly, his smug expression only making your flustered state worse. "You should say something," he teased, tilting his head slightly.

But you couldn’t. Your brain had completely shut down, your words tangled up somewhere between your rapidly beating heart and the overwhelming realization that Jiung liked you back. "I-" you swallowed, struggling to find the right words. "I don’t know what to say."

Jiung let out a small hum, his amusement only growing. "That’s cute."

Your face burned even hotter, and Jiung, clearly enjoying how easy it was to tease you, decided to push a little further.

"So?" He leaned in just a fraction closer. "Are you going to admit it?"

You bit your lip, your fingers curling into your palms. He wasn’t going to let this go. He was waiting - waiting for you to say it out loud. And god, you wanted to deny it, to keep holding onto whatever tiny bit of composure you had left, but the way he was looking at you, the way your heart was racing just being near him.

You inhaled sharply before finally muttering, “I- I like you.”

Jiung’s smirk widened. "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

You glared at him, your face still burning, but before you could come up with a response, Jiung's tone suddenly shifted, just slightly. "Since we’re being honest…" He let his fingers brush against your wrist, his touch light but deliberate. "I’d be down so bad to have a little fun with you."

Your breath hitched.

Jiung watched you carefully, his expression playful but also sincere. "But only if you wanted to of course," he added. "I don’t want to push you."

You knew what he meant. And the thought alone sent your entire nervous system into overdrive.

"I-" You opened your mouth, then immediately closed it, panic creeping in. "I don’t… I don’t know how to do that."

Jiung’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Do what?"

You hesitated before forcing yourself to say it.

"Get intimate with someone?"

His lips parted in surprise, and for a second, you thought he had misunderstood what you meant. But then you quickly shook your head. "No! I mean- that’s not what I meant."

Jiung tilted his head, now genuinely curious. “Then what do you mean?”

You exhaled, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "I mean… intimacy without commitment."

Jiung’s expression shifted slightly, his usual playful smirk replaced by something more serious. He studied you for a moment, his gaze searching, as if trying to figure out exactly what you meant by that.

The silence between you felt heavier now. Not awkward, but weighted, like you had just opened a door neither of you had ever stepped through before. And for the first time all night, Jiung didn’t immediately have a teasing remark ready. Instead, he simply watched you, waiting for you to say more. Waiting to see where this was going to go.

Jiung was silent for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours, as if carefully considering what you had just said.

"Intimacy without commitment."

His fingers, still lightly brushing against your wrist, suddenly traced a little higher, barely grazing your forearm. The touch was subtle, almost innocent but not quite.

"You don’t know how to do that?" he murmured, voice low and laced with something undeniably teasing.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Jiung tilted his head slightly, studying your reaction. "So… does that mean you’ve never done it? Or just that you don’t know if you could?"

Your throat went dry. He was testing you, pushing just a little to see how much you could take. "I just-" You swallowed, trying to keep your thoughts straight. "I don’t know how to… separate it. How to be close to someone without getting-"

Jiung took another step forward, closing the space between you inch by inch. "Attached?" he finished for you.

You nodded slowly, pulse hammering in your ears.

He hummed softly, his fingers trailing down your wrist before finally pulling away. The loss of contact made you exhale, only to realize that now his entire focus was on you.

"So if I were to touch you like this…" Jiung reached up, his knuckles barely grazing your jawline as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His touch was gentle, featherlight, but your entire body reacted to it like a live wire. "Would it be too much?"

Your breath hitched. Was it?

You didn’t move away. You didn’t even flinch. But the way his fingertips lingered near your skin, the way his voice dripped with curiosity and amusement, it made it so much harder to think straight.

Jiung let his fingers trail down, brushing the side of your neck so deliberately that it sent a shiver down your spine. "Too much?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.

You should say yes.

You really should. But instead, you just whispered, "No."

Jiung’s lips quirked up into a small, knowing smirk. "Interesting."

His hand dropped back to his side, but the electricity of his touch still lingered on your skin. You barely had a second to process what just happened before Jiung leaned in just enough for his breath to tickle your ear. "So, if there were no feelings involved," he murmured, voice dangerously soft, "you think you could handle this?"

Your heart nearly gave out. Jiung was testing you, pushing just enough to see how far you were willing to go. And the worst part? You weren’t sure if you even wanted him to stop.

The air felt thick, every breath you took weighed down by the lingering touch of Jiung’s fingers against your skin. You barely had a second to react before he suddenly reached for your hand. His grip was firm yet unbelievably gentle, and without a word, he guided you across the room toward the couch in your living room. Your pulse skyrocketed.

Jiung didn’t hesitate. He led you to sit down, his movements slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the way your body tensed under his touch. Then, without warning, he knelt down in front of you. Your heart stopped.

Jiung was right there, at your feet, his hands resting casually on his knees as he looked up at you with that same infuriatingly smug expression. The sight alone was almost too much. Too intimate. Too dangerous.

"You’re nervous," he mused, tilting his head. His voice was soft, but the teasing lilt in it was impossible to ignore.

You swallowed hard, gripping the fabric of your borrowed clothes. "I- I’m not."

Jiung’s lips curved into a smirk. "Liar."

Your face burned.

Then, slowly, he lifted his hand and rested it lightly on your knee. Not firm, not insistent, just enough for you to feel it. "Tell me," he murmured, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against your leg. "How far do you think you could go without catching feelings?"

Your entire brain shut down. The way he was looking at you - his dark eyes filled with pure amusement, like he was enjoying every second of watching you unravel - was enough to completely wreck you.

"I-" You swallowed again, your thoughts barely stringing together. "I don’t know."

Jiung hummed, pretending to think. Then, with excruciating slowness, he leaned in closer, his face inches from yours now, his breath warm against your skin. "Should we find out?"

Your stomach flipped.

Jiung’s hand, still resting on your knee, squeezed ever so slightly, just enough to send a spark of heat straight through you. He was testing you again. And you were seconds away from breaking. The air between you was thick, suffocating in the best and worst ways. Jiung’s presence, his touch, his words, had you balanced on a razor’s edge, and you had no idea how much longer you could hold yourself together.

Then, he dropped the bomb.

"How about we start off by getting rid of Keeho’s clothes?" Jiung murmured, his voice smooth yet playful. "It’s kinda distracting me."

You froze.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Your brain struggled to process what he had just said. "W-what?" you finally managed, looking at him in pure shock.

Jiung let out a soft laugh, clearly amused by your reaction. "Okay, okay. I’ll start first."

And then, before you could even fully react, he reached for the hem of his hoodie and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion

You stopped breathing.

The fabric landed somewhere across the room, but you couldn’t care less. Because now, Jiung was kneeling in front of you, shirtless, his toned chest and sculpted shoulders fully on display. His hands - warm, gentle, deliberate - rested lightly on your thighs again, his fingers barely brushing against the fabric of Keeho’s sweatpants.

That was it. The breaking point.

Your pulse skyrocketed, your entire body burning under his touch.

Jiung tilted his head slightly, his expression a mix of amusement and something deeper. His gaze never left yours, watching every tiny reaction you gave him. He was still teasing you, but carefully.

"You good?" he murmured, his fingers tracing small circles against your leg.

You swallowed hard, nodding way too quickly. "Y-yeah."

Jiung smirked. "If you don’t want something, stop me, alright?"

You barely had the chance to process his words before your body reacted on its own.

"Don’t stop."

The words left your mouth before you could even think about them, barely above a whisper, but Jiung heard them loud and clear. His smirk deepened.

"You like when I tease you like this?" he asked, his voice lower, smoother, almost testing you again.

Your body betrayed you, a tiny, involuntary shiver running down your spine. Jiung’s hands squeezed just slightly against your thighs, his touch light but firm enough to send another wave of heat through you. Your lips parted, your breath shaky, as you stared at him, completely spellbound.

Jiung chuckled, leaning in just a little closer, his bare skin impossibly warm. "Very interesting," he murmured.

And just like that, he had you completely in the palm of his hand. He knew exactly what he was doing. The way he watched you, his gaze intense yet playful, made it impossible to think straight.

You barely had time to process the next wave of teasing before Jiung’s hands slid up just slightly, his thumbs grazing the sensitive skin where your thighs met your hips. His touch was featherlight, but it sent a shiver straight through you. Your breath hitched. Jiung noticed.

And that was when his teasing stopped - just for a second. His smirk softened, his grip on you easing as he looked up at you through his lashes. Then, his voice dropped into something quieter, something almost hesitant.

"Can I…?"

You barely had time to process the question before Jiung slowly, so achingly slowly, leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. Your entire body froze. Then melted.

His lips were warm, soft, and so deliberate, like he was giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Jiung took your lack of resistance as an answer, his hands shifting slightly, still firm, still keeping you grounded, but now… closer.

The kiss was slow, teasing in the way he barely applied pressure at first, like he wanted to see just how much you wanted him before giving you more. And god, you wanted more.

When he finally pulled back just an inch, his breath still lingering against your lips, he tilted his head and smirked. "You’re shaking," he murmured.

You were. And you had absolutely no idea how you were supposed to recover from this. And you couldn’t take it anymore. Before he could pull away completely, you closed the distance, crashing your lips back onto his. Jiung let out a small sound of surprise, but it quickly melted into something deeper, something more certain. His hands gripped your thighs a little tighter, his body tensing slightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

You needed more.

Jiung felt it too.

Because without warning, he stood up from the floor, his hands never leaving you, and slowly pushed you down onto the sofa. Your back met the cushions, and before you could even process what was happening, Jiung was hovering over you, his body perfectly aligned with yours.

This time, the kiss was different. It wasn’t teasing anymore. It was hungry. Intense. Like neither of you wanted to hold back any longer. Jiung’s lips moved against yours with purpose, his hand sliding up to rest at the side of your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your jaw.

You let out a small, shaky breath as his weight pressed slightly into you, grounding you beneath him. It was overwhelming - his warmth, his touch, the way his fingers gripped the fabric of Keeho’s borrowed shirt like he was seconds away from pulling it off of you. Your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging slightly, and that was when Jiung let out a low, satisfied hum against your lips.

"Eager, huh?" he murmured against your mouth, his tone dripping with amusement.

You barely had time to feel embarrassed because the next thing you knew, Jiung’s lips left yours only to trail lower, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your jawline, down to the side of your neck. Your breath hitched, your fingers tightening against his shoulders.

Jiung chuckled at your reaction, his voice low and warm. "I knew you liked it when I teased you."

And honestly? You couldn’t even deny it anymore.

Jiung’s lips moved against your skin with a deliberate slowness, as if he wanted to memorize every reaction you gave him. The warmth of his breath against your neck sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the way he smiled against you, completely aware of how much he was affecting you.

Then, his fingers grazed the hem of your borrowed shirt. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes filled with something intense yet undeniably gentle. His hands rested at the edge of the fabric, waiting. "Can I?" he asked softly, his voice lower now, more serious.

Your chest tightened, not from nerves, but from the weight of the moment. Jiung, for all his teasing and confidence, was still giving you control. He wanted this, but only if you did too. You nodded. That was all he needed. With excruciating slowness, he lifted the fabric, his fingers grazing your skin as he pulled it over your head and tossed it somewhere behind him. The way his gaze darkened as he took you in made your heart skip a beat.

His hands traced a slow path down your sides, his fingers barely pressing into your skin, just enough to leave a trail of heat in their wake. "You look so good," Jiung murmured, his voice laced with something deeper, something real.

Your breath hitched as he leaned back down, his lips brushing over your collarbone, lingering, before he kissed lower. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t hurried. It was slow, deliberate, like he wanted to take his time with you. Like he wanted you to feel everything.

Your fingers instinctively threaded through his hair, holding onto him as his lips pressed soft, mellow kisses along your skin, his hands mapping out every inch of you with an unbearable gentleness. It was intoxicating - the way he touched you, the way he worshipped every reaction you gave him, like he was savoring it.

"Still doing okay?" he murmured between kisses, his voice breathless but completely focused on you.

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him.

Jiung pulled back just enough to study your face, his fingertips trailing lightly over your waist, his expression softer now. "I mean it," he murmured. "I need you to tell me."

Your heart squeezed at his words, at the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in this moment. You exhaled, your fingers tightening slightly against his shoulders. "I’m okay," you whispered.

Jiung smiled, really smiled, before pressing another kiss to your lips. "Good," he murmured against your mouth. And just like that, he pulled you right back under with him.

Jiung's lips were everywhere - soft, warm, deliberate as they trailed across your skin, leaving a path of heat and electricity in their wake. His fingers followed, tracing along your waist, your ribs, mapping out every inch of exposed skin like he was trying to memorize you. The slow drag of his touch sent shivers down your spine, and you knew - he was doing this on purpose.

Jiung pulled back just slightly, his breath warm against your skin. His dark eyes flickered up to yours, and the way he looked at you, like he was taking his time, like he was savoring this moment, made your stomach flip.

"You’re so easy to tease," he murmured, his lips curling into a small, knowing smirk.

Your face burned, and you let out a shaky breath. "Jiung-"

He shushed you, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of your jaw before whispering, "I like hearing the way you say my name."

Your fingers curled into the fabric of the couch, your entire body reacting to him in ways you couldn’t control. Jiung chuckled, obviously pleased with himself, his hands slowly traced down your belly, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel your heart racing as he reached for the hem of your borrowed pants, his fingers brushing against your soft skin as he began to pull them down. You lifted your hips off the couch, helping him as he slid them down your legs and tossed them aside.

You were left laying there in just your panties, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you carefully watched Jiung. He ran his hands over your thighs gently, his hands exploring further, taking in every inch of you. His teasing sent your mind into overdrive and you could feel yourself growing more and more aroused by the second, throbbing with need.

"You’re really not stopping me," he murmured, his voice quieter now, less playful, more real.

You swallowed hard, your hands moving instinctively to pull him closer.

"I don’t want you to stop," you whispered.

Jiung could see the anticipation in your eyes, the way your breath hitched every time his hand moved lower. With a smirk, he slipped his hand between your thighs, his fingers finding the damp fabric of your panties.

"You're so tense," he teased, tilting his head. His fingers danced over your panties, barely touching yet setting your nerves on fire. "Relax for me."

Relax? How were you supposed to relax when he was doing this?

Jiung’s hands continued their slow descent, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours but never quite closing the distance. You could feel his smirk against your skin.

"You can still stop me anytime," he reminded you, voice softer now, gentler, as if he wanted you to know that you were still in control.

But stopping was the last thing on your mind. You weren’t sure when it had happened, when your hesitation had started to fade, when the tension had become something you actually wanted to lean into instead of shy away from. Jiung saw it. Felt it.

And that was why, without warning, he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Tell me how much you want this," he murmured, his lips barely an inch from yours.

It was a challenge. A test. And god, the way he looked at you, like he was daring you to admit it, made your whole body heat up. Your lips parted, your breath shaky.

Jiung waited.

And then, finally, you gave in.

"I want this… so fucking bad." Your voice came out softer than you expected, but it was honest.

Jiung smirked at your response, his eyes glinting with mischief. ''Oh, I know you do,'' he said, his voice dripping with confidence. ''But I'm going to make you wait for it.''

You bit your bottom lip, feeling another rush of arousal flood your panties at his words. You couldn't help but squirm as Jiung's body hovered just above yours, the heat radiating off of him, and you wanted nothing more than to feel his skin against yours.

Jiung leaned forward, his breath hot against your skin as he placed a gentle kiss on your bare chest. You shivered, hips bucking up towards him as you let out a low moan. You could feel his smile against your skin as he began to tease you once more, his fingers tracing lazy circles over the fabric of your panties.

''Please Jiung,'' you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. ''I need more.''

Jiung chuckled, his fingers continuing to tease you as he looked up at you. ''Patience y/n,'' he said, his voice low and husky. ''I'm going to make this so good for you.''

Before you could respond, he slipped his fingers under the edge of your panties, teasing you with the barest of touch. You let out another low moan, as you felt his fingers brush against your wet folds.

You gasped, your back arching as Jiung's fingers began to explore. He teased you under the fabric, his touch light and taunting, as his thumb began to draw small circles over your sensitive spot. The heat between your legs grew more intense with each passing second. His fingers danced over your skin, before he finally - finally - pushed two of them inside you slowly.

You barely had time to breathe before he started pumping them gently inside of you, making you feel a desire you had never experienced before. Jiung continued pressing soft, lingering kisses along your collarbone, down your shoulder, each one making your pulse race even faster.

That's when he paused, glancing up at you, making you whine at the sudden stop of his movement.

"You’re really letting me do whatever I want, huh?" Jiung murmured, his smirk deepening.

You bit your lip, your breath shaky. "Maybe."

"Dangerous answer," Jiung chuckled, shifting just a little closer, his fingers curling up just a little inside of you. "Still no complaints?"

You couldn’t complain. Not when he was looking at you like that. Not when his hand made you feel like your entire body was on fire. His lips found your neck again, his fingers moving just a little faster inside of you now and just like that, you were completely lost in him. You felt yourself growing more and more desperate, letting out sharp gasps as your body shivered slightly.

"Sensitive, huh?" He smirked against your skin, pressing a kiss just below your jawline before whispering, "I like that."

You swallowed hard, gripping the fabric of the couch beneath you. "Jiung-"

He hummed, acting completely unbothered, even as his hands explored new territory - testing, pushing, waiting to see how much you’d let him get away with.

''Please,' you whimpered, your voice full of need. ''I need to cum.''

For a moment it seemed like he finally gave in to your begging, his fingers diving deep inside of you as he moved them with a fierce urgency. You let out a load moan, as you felt yourself spiraling out of control.

Just as you felt an orgasm building up inside of you, Jiung pulled his fingers away, leaving you panting and desperate for more. You frowned, your body aching for release.

Jiung simply chuckled, his eyes filled with mischief. ''I'm not gonna let you have all the fun to yourself,'' he said, his voice low. His lips hovered over yours, so close yet still refusing to fully close the distance. "You said you wanted this," he murmured, his voice smooth and knowing.

You swallowed hard. "I do."

Jiung tilted his head, his hands slowly dragging lower. "Then how much do you trust me?"

The question sent another wave of heat through you. Your body reacted first, shifting instinctively closer to him. Your fingers tightened around his bare shoulders, the warmth of his skin under your touch making your head spin.

Jiung chuckled at your silence. "That much, huh?"

Then, with deliberate ease, he reached for the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging them down along with his boxers, kicking them off completely.

You gasped at the sight of Jiung being fully exposed to you now.

Jiung noticed.

"You’re staring," he teased, smirking as he settled back between your legs, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your panties.

Your stomach flipped as he toyed with the waistband, giving you plenty of time to stop him. You should’ve been embarrassed. Maybe even hesitant. But the truth was, you had already let him push you this far, and stopping now… stopping now felt impossible. So, instead of answering, you lifted your hips slightly, wordlessly giving him permission.

Jiung’s gaze darkened. And with excruciating slowness, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and slid your panties down, leaving you completely vulnerable beneath him. He took his time, his eyes dragging over you, admiring every inch of skin he uncovered. Then, finally, he exhaled.

"God," he muttered, shaking his head slightly, his fingers pressing into your hips. "You have no idea how good you look right now."

Your face burned. Before you could response, Jiung reached for his sweatpants again and pulled a silver wrapper out of its pocket. Once he wrapped it over his length he hovered over you, steadying himself between your legs. His hands remained firm on your waist, grounding you, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

But just when you were about to completely melt into him, he pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours, his smirk softening just a little. "Still doing okay?"

You smiled, nodding. "Yeah."

Jiung studied you for a moment, as if making sure, before leaning down and pressing another kiss to your lips - slow, deep, filled with something more than just teasing. Something undeniable.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered against your ear.

Your stomach flipped at his words, heat pooling in your chest as Jiung’s hands resumed their slow exploration. His fingertips skimmed over your skin in featherlight touches, never lingering too long in one place - just enough to drive you insane.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your fingers tightening in his hair as you exhaled shakily. "Jiung… please, just-"

That was all he needed.

His grip on you tightened, his body pressing closer, his breath mixing with yours as he finally let himself fully sink into you. You moaned softly, your body stretching to accommodate him. Jiung moved slowly at first, his thrusts gentle and controlled and you could feel every inch of him, the sensation overwhelming. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper.

Jiung groaned, feeling his control slipping. He began to thrust harder, his movements becoming more frantic. You met him thrust for thrust, your nails digging into his back. You could feel yourself getting closer, the heat between the both of you building. Jiung's thrusts became erratic, his body shaking with effort. Your bodies intertwined, the tension grew as you moved together, your rhythm syncing perfectly.

This had started as a game - slow, teasing, meant to test you, to push you just far enough without completely unraveling you.

But now… now it was different.

Jiung had finally given in and now, neither of you wanted to stop.

His lips moved against yours with a new kind of urgency, a quiet hunger that wasn’t just about teasing anymore - it was about you. About this moment. About finally letting himself want you the way he had been holding back from all night.

Jiung, who had spent the entire night pushing you to the edge, was now fully lost in you too. You felt it. In the way his fingers curled into your waist, in the way his body pressed against yours, in the way his breath hitched slightly when your nails digged into his back, pulling him closer.

The playful remarks - they were gone now, replaced by something deeper, more raw. Because this wasn’t just about testing boundaries anymore. This was about crossing them together.

His forehead rested against yours for a moment as he caught his breath, his fingers still tracing slow, absentminded patterns against your skin, like he needed to memorize the feeling of you beneath him.

When he finally pulled back enough to look at you, his expression had changed.

"You’re really letting me have you like this," he murmured, his voice lower now, softer, almost as if he was still processing it himself.

You moaned softly, nodding. "I am."

Jiung exhaled, his fingers tightening slightly against your skin before he leaned down again, this time, pressing a kiss that was slow, deep, meaningful.

Not just teasing.

Not just desire.

But something more.

And neither of you ever wanted it to end.

Jiung could feel you getting closer, how your body tightening around him. He knew you were on the edge, and he was determined to send you over. With a final, deep thrust, he whispered your name against your ear. Your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, your body arching off the couch. A soft moan escaped your lips, barely audible, yet electrifying. The sensation was like nothing you had ever felt before.

Jiung watched you carefully, his own release following quickly, as his thrusts slowed down and became more sloppy. With a raspy, whimpered moan, his orgasm finally washed over him. His body trembled above you, as he buried his face in your neck.

The room was quiet now, the only sounds filling the space were the soft, uneven breaths you and Jiung shared. The tension that had been so thick between you all night had finally unraveled, leaving nothing but the warmth of him against you.

Jiung collapsed on top of you, his body heavy yet comforting, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. His head rested against your chest, his damp hair tickling your skin, his warmth completely surrounding you.

You exhaled slowly, your fingers gliding gently down his back, tracing the lines of his shoulder blades, feeling the way his muscles relaxed under your touch. His skin was warm, slightly damp from the heat between you, and you could feel the way his heartbeat slowly began to steady against yours.

Neither of you spoke.

There was no need to.

Jiung let out a soft sigh against your skin, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns along your waist. You wondered what he was thinking, if he was feeling the same overwhelming mix of emotions crashing into you all at once.

You stayed like that for a little while, wrapped up in the warmth of each other, neither of you in a hurry to move, to break the fragile moment that had settled between you.

But eventually, Jiung stirred.

He lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting yours, something soft, unreadable flickering behind them.

His arms tensed slightly as he pulled himself up, his hands resting beside your body, caging you in without feeling overpowering. He studied your face for a moment, his lips slightly parted, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.

And for the first time tonight, he looked hesitant.

You weren’t used to seeing Jiung like this - the ever-confident, ever-teasing Jiung now looking at you with something uncertain, almost vulnerable in his gaze. As he hovered over you, his arms still bracing him on either side of your body, his dark eyes locked onto yours. There was something different in his gaze now - softer, yet just as intense as before.

Then, after a beat of silence, his lips curled into a slow smirk.

"That was amazing," he murmured, his voice low and slightly breathless. His eyes scanned your face, taking in every little detail - your flushed cheeks, your dazed expression, the way you were still trying to catch your breath.

His smirk deepened.

"You looked really good just now," he added, his tone so effortlessly teasing that it made heat rise to your face all over again.

Your stomach flipped, and you immediately covered your face with your hands, groaning. "Jiung, stop."

He laughed, the sound soft yet filled with amusement. "What? It’s true," he said, nudging your hands away so he could see you again. His fingers lightly traced your wrist, his touch still gentle, still lingering. "You should’ve seen yourself."

You could barely handle the way he was looking at you. Smug, teasing, but still incredibly fond.

"Jiung-" you tried to protest, but he was relentless.

He leaned down, his bare chest pressing against yours, his lips ghosting over your ear.

"Shy now?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "You weren’t so shy a few minutes ago."

Your entire body burned at his words.

"You’re insufferable," you muttered, attempting to turn your head away. But Jiung only grinned, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling back just enough to see your reaction.

"Maybe," he mused, tilting his head, his fingers now tracing lazy circles on your waist. "But you like that about me, don’t you?"

Your heart skipped a beat.

And the worst part?

You did.

But there was no way you were going to admit that out loud.

So instead, you huffed, looking away. "I liked you better when you weren’t talking."

Jiung chuckled. "Liar."

His hands skimmed up your sides, slow and deliberate, sending another shiver through you. Your breath hitched - a small reaction, but one Jiung caught immediately.

His smirk widened.

"Oh?" he teased, watching you closely. "Do you want me to stop talking then? Or do you want me to-"

"Jiung!" you cut him off, your voice higher than you intended.

He laughed again, the warmth in his expression making it impossible to be mad at him.

Jiung leaned down one more time, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your forehead before pulling back.

"Relax," he murmured, his tone finally softening. "I’m just messing with you."

You exhaled slowly, your heart still pounding, your emotions still all over the place. Jiung was back to teasing you like nothing had changed - but something had. His gaze flickered over your face, thoughtful, before he spoke again.

"So…" he murmured, voice low, teasing but curious. "How do you like the idea of intimacy without commitment?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. Jiung didn’t look away, his fingers lazily tracing over your waist, waiting for your answer. You took a moment to think.

After everything that had happened tonight - the teasing, the tension, the way he had pushed your boundaries yet still made you feel completely safe - you realized… You liked this. You liked him. And maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you exhaled slowly. "I think… I could do this more often."

Jiung’s smirk widened.

"Really?" he mused, tilting his head slightly. His fingers pressed into your waist just a little more, his touch still slow and deliberate.

You nodded, watching his reaction carefully.

Jiung let out a low chuckle, his gaze darkening slightly. "Good," he murmured. "Because I’d be down for it too."

You giggled, unable to help the warmth that spread through you at his words. He smirked, clearly enjoying how flustered you were, before grabbing your wrists and pinning them down for a second, just to tease you more.

"Am I making you shy again?" he grinned, hovering closer.

"Maybe," you muttered, biting back a smile.

Jiung just chuckled, releasing your hands, his fingers lightly brushing over your wrist before finally pulling away. Then, after a moment of silence, he spoke again, this time, his voice softer, more curious.

"What do you think about me staying over tonight?"

Your breath hitched.

"You want to?" you asked, searching his face for any hint of hesitation.

Jiung’s lips curled into a lazy, knowing smile as he leaned back down, his mouth barely an inch from yours.

"I mean… the night’s still young," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. Then, with pure confidence, he added, "and we were just getting started."

Jiung’s words hung in the air between you, thick with meaning, his smirk never faltering as he watched your reaction. Your stomach flipped, your fingers still curled slightly against his arms, your body responding before your mind could even catch up.

You should have hesitated. Should have questioned what this meant, what you were getting yourself into. But the way Jiung was looking at you, his dark eyes filled with amusement, his bare chest still lightly pressed against yours, his breath warm against your lips, it was impossible to think about anything else.

So instead, you exhaled, a small smile pulling at your lips.

"Then stay," you whispered.

Jiung’s smirk widened.

"Yeah?" he teased, watching you carefully. "You sure?"

You nodded, your voice more certain this time. "I want you to."

His gaze flickered, something unreadable flashing behind his eyes before he leaned down again, kissing you slowly, deeply, like he had been waiting for you to say that. His hands slid down your sides again, reclaiming the space between you, his touch both teasing and deliberate.

"You’re gonna have to keep up with me, then," he murmured between kisses, his tone light but challenging, his smirk pressing against your lips.

You giggled softly, your fingers tracing over his shoulders. "Oh? Think I can’t handle you?"

Jiung chuckled, shaking his head. "I just know how easy it is to make you fall apart beneath me."

Your face burned, and Jiung grinned when he noticed.

"You’re doing it again," he teased, tapping your chin lightly, his expression smug.

"Doing what?" you muttered, looking away.

Jiung tilted your chin back toward him, his thumb brushing over your jawline.

"Looking at me like you want me to ruin you."

You gasped, shoving at his chest, but he just laughed, his head tilting back slightly in amusement.

"You’re impossible," you mumbled, biting back a smile.

"And yet, you’re still letting me stay," Jiung mused, trailing soft, lazy kisses along your jaw, his touch slow, unhurried, like he wanted to take his time with you all over again.

Your fingers curled into his hair, pulling him closer, your heartbeat pounding against his.

And in that moment, with Jiung hovering over you, his hands exploring your skin like he had all the time in the world, you realized…

The night really was just getting started.

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leahrintarou · 6 months ago

Text

✩₊˚.⋆ PUSHED BUTTONS ! - katsuki bakugou / 10.19 / kinktober

CW: hardom!bakugou (kinda), pet names, female anatomy reader, she/her, fingering, teasing, overstimulation, brat taming kink ofc, that's all

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's Note: another late chapter guys sorrryy I'VE BEEN SO BUSY :'(. i hope you enjoy reading tho! leave a like or reblog to show support. next chapter will be out later tdy <3

y/n had been pushing bakugou’s buttons all day, and he was running out of patience. she knew exactly what she was doing, testing him with every sly remark, every deliberately careless action. bakugou could feel the heat rising in his chest, but he wasn’t about to give in just yet. part of him knew y/n was doing it on purpose, and another part of him was almost enjoying it—almost.

it started early that morning when y/n “accidentally” knocked his mug off the kitchen counter. the crash of ceramic breaking against the floor was loud and sharp, followed by an innocent shrug from y/n.

“oops,” she said, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

bakugou’s eyes narrowed, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he stood there, fists clenched. “that’s the third one this month, y/n. you gonna clean that up or just stand there smiling like an idiot?”

y/n leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “i dunno, maybe you should clean it up. you’re good at fixing things, right?”

his glare sharpened, the threat of an explosion simmering just below the surface. “don’t push me.”

she raised an eyebrow, clearly not deterred. with an exaggerated sigh, y/n bent down to pick up the pieces, but she did it slowly—way too slowly—taking her time just to watch his reaction. bakugou’s gaze stayed locked on her, a mixture of annoyance and warning.

“you better not be messing with me,” he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for her to hear.

y/n only smiled, not saying a word, just continuing her painfully slow pace. bakugou watched every deliberate move, his irritation growing, but he stayed quiet. for now.

later that day, the two were out running errands. bakugou was focused, as usual, but y/n seemed to be on a mission to poke at him. when he told her to hurry up, she slowed down. when he asked for silence, she hummed loudly. every little thing was a challenge, a direct test of how far she could go before he’d break.

it was when they got home that bakugou’s patience hit its limit.

“you gonna act like a brat all day, or are you done?” he asked, dropping the bags onto the kitchen counter with a heavy thud. his tone was sharp, controlled, but barely.

y/n looked at him, feigning innocence. “what do you mean? i’ve been an angel.”

bakugou’s eyes flared, and he took a step toward her. “an angel, huh? is that what you think you are?”

“i don’t know, you tell me.” she tilted her head, that same smirk playing on her lips again.

bakugou’s patience snapped. in an instant, he had her backed against the counter, his hand braced next to her head, caging her in. his face was inches from hers, and the low growl in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. “you think it’s fun messing with me? think you can act like a little brat and get away with it?”

y/n’s breath hitched slightly, but she didn’t drop the act. “maybe. what are you gonna do about it?”

his eyes darkened, and his other hand came up to gently grip her chin, forcing her to look directly at him. “oh, you’re gonna find out. you wanna play games? fine. but don’t cry when i play rough.”

y/n’s heart raced at his words, the teasing smirk faltering slightly, but she wasn’t ready to back down yet. “maybe i like it rough.”

bakugou’s lips twitched into a wicked grin. “oh, i know you do.”

before she could respond, he spun her around, pinning her against the counter. his hands held her wrists firmly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her who was in control now. y/n squirmed, half-playful, half-serious, testing his grip.

“you like being difficult, don’t you?” he muttered in her ear, his voice low, almost dangerous.

she didn’t answer right away, still trying to get under his skin. “maybe... or maybe i just like seeing how far i can push you.”

bakugou chuckled darkly, his breath hot against her neck. “well, you’ve pushed me far enough, princess.”

y/n shivered at the nickname, the tension between them crackling like electricity. bakugou’s grip tightened just slightly, his tone shifting from playful to commanding.

“now, you’re gonna behave, or i’m gonna show you exactly what happens when you don’t.”

y/n’s heart raced, the thrill of the challenge and the excitement of bakugou’s dominance sending adrenaline coursing through her veins. she knew she’d been pushing him all day, and now, she was about to see the consequences of her actions.

“fine,” she whispered, though the glint in her eyes told bakugou she wasn’t quite done yet.

he smirked. “good. now let’s see if you can actually follow through.”

bakugou’s grip on y/n's wrists tightened just a bit more as he pressed her against the counter, his body flush against hers. she could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between them almost tangible. his breath was hot against her neck as he leaned in closer, his voice a low growl in her ear.

“you think you can mess with me all day and get away with it, huh?” he muttered, his lips just barely grazing her skin.

y/n’s breath hitched, her pulse racing. she tried to keep her cool, but the way he had her pinned, the way his presence consumed her—it was impossible to ignore. “maybe i just like seeing you like this,” she teased, her voice breathy but still defiant.

bakugou chuckled darkly, his grip shifting as he spun her around to face him. now, with her back against the wall, his eyes bore into hers, intense and unwavering. “oh, you like this, do you?” he whispered, his thumb brushing against her lip.

y/n smirked, refusing to back down. “you know i do.”

in one swift motion, bakugou lifted her up, pressing her harder against the wall as her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. his hands gripped her thighs firmly, his lips ghosting over hers, teasing her with the closeness.

y/n’s heart raced as his lips finally crashed into hers, rough and demanding. the kiss was a mixture of frustration and desire, both of them feeding off the energy that had been building all day. her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as he pressed his body even tighter against hers.

his hands slid up her sides, gripping her waist before moving under her shirt, his touch sending shivers down her spine. “you’re such a fucking tease,” he groaned against her lips, his breath ragged.

“and you love it,” y/n shot back, her voice barely a whisper.

bakugou’s eyes darkened, a wicked grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. his hands gripped her tighter, his lips trailing down her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

y/n’s breath came in short gasps, her body responding to every touch, every word. she could feel the raw power in him, the control he had over her, and it only fueled the fire between them.

“you wanna keep testing me, sweetheart?” bakugou murmured against her skin, his hands gripping her hips with just enough pressure to make her squirm. "maybe."

without another word, bakugou’s hands moved to the hem of her shirt, yanking it over her head with a rough, fluid motion. his lips were back on hers before she could even catch her breath, the kiss more urgent, more demanding. he pressed her harder against the wall, his body dominating hers as they both gave into the moment.

“fuck, you drive me crazy,” bakugou muttered between kisses, his hands roaming her body with a rough but careful touch, his fingers tracing every curve.

y/n grinned against his lips, her hands running down his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. “good,” she whispered, her voice full of mischief. “then i guess i’m doing something right.”

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he groaned in her ear, his voice low and filled with a dangerous edge.

before she could respond, bakugou’s hips pressed against her, the hardness of his tent rubbing against her ass, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. she gasped, her breath catching in her throat as he held her in place, the friction undeniable.

“this what you wanted, huh?” he muttered, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. “mess with me all day just to get me like this?”

y/n swallowed hard, her heart racing, but she wasn’t about to let him win so easily. “maybe,” she whispered, her voice teasing even though her body was reacting to every move he made.

bakugou’s hand slid down to grip her hips, pulling her even closer to him as he rubbed against her again, harder this time, his breath becoming more ragged. “you think it’s fun pushing me? ‘cause now you’ve got me right where you want me, sweetheart.”

y/n bit her lip, a thrill running through her as she felt his control slipping, his restraint barely hanging on by a thread. “maybe i do,” she said, voice breathless.

bakugou let out a low chuckle, his lips grazing her ear as he pressed his body against hers, the heat between them intensifying. “you have no idea what you’re getting into.”

his hips moved again, a deliberate motion as he rubbed his tent against her once more, the pressure sending a shiver down her spine. his hands held her firmly in place, making sure she felt every second of it. y/n’s breath hitched, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a full reaction, even though her body was betraying her, leaning into him.

“still gonna act like a brat?” bakugou whispered, his voice rough as his hands gripped her tighter, his body pinning her harder against the wall.

y/n smirked despite the heat building between them. “maybe i like being a brat,” she shot back, her voice barely more than a whisper.

bakugou groaned softly, his lips brushing against her neck. “then you’re gonna find out exactly what happens when you keep it up.” his hand reached around her, gripping the hem of her skirt and pulling it up to her waist, revealing the fabric of her panties. his hand cupped her sex, pulling her closer towards him as their panting breaths filled the room.

bakugou’s grip tightened on y/n’s thighs as he held her against the wall, his fingers rough but deliberate as they slid between her legs, teasing her just enough to make her squirm. his touch was light at first, drawing out a gasp from her lips, but he wasn’t in the mood to play for long. with a low groan, his fingers pressed harder against her core, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over her panties.

“you like this, don’t you?” he muttered, his voice dark, breath hot against her neck as his lips trailed along her skin, his teeth grazing her collarbone. y/n’s breath hitched, her body reacting to every touch despite her attempt to stay composed.

his other hand slid up her body, tugging her shirt higher until he had full access to her bare skin. his fingers splayed out against her waist, feeling the tension in her body as she shifted against him. with a sharp tug, he pulled her panties aside, his fingers finally dipping between her folds, teasing her entrance but not giving her what she really wanted yet.

“you’re soaking,” he hissed, his breath ragged, voice filled with both frustration and desire. “you’re such a fucking tease, but i knew you’d like this.”

his fingers moved faster now, sliding against her slick heat with precision, each motion drawing a soft moan from y/n. her hands gripped his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin through his shirt as she bucked her hips against his touch, chasing the friction he was giving her.

bakugou’s lips found hers again, rough and hungry, his kiss demanding submission. he swallowed her moans, his fingers sliding in and out of her with increasing intensity, every movement precise, every sound she made pushing him further into his own haze of lust and control.

“you like pushing me?” he growled against her lips, his fingers curling inside her just enough to make her gasp. “then take this, brat.”

he increased his pace, his thumb pressing against her bud with firm, relentless pressure, his fingers working her faster, deeper.

bakugou’s fingers moved with relentless precision, the friction driving y/n closer to the edge. her body reacted instinctively, hips bucking against his hand as she chased the release he was teasing just out of reach. her breath came in ragged gasps, each one mingling with the low, guttural sounds escaping bakugou’s throat as he watched her squirm beneath him.

“katsuki—” y/n’s voice was breathless, a mix of desperation and defiance.

he smirked at the sound of his name, his thumb pressing harder against her clit as his fingers curled inside her, hitting the perfect spot with ruthless accuracy. “what? you got something to say, princess?”

her nails dug into his shoulders, a sharp hiss escaping her as she tried to maintain some semblance of control, but it was slipping fast. “fuck… i—” she bit her lip, cutting herself off as another wave of pleasure washed over her.

bakugou’s grin widened, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “what’s the matter? not so tough now, are you?”

his words were punctuated by the rough, steady rhythm of his fingers, each thrust sending y/n closer to the edge. her legs tightened around his waist, her body trembling as the tension built to a breaking point. “katsuki, please…”

his eyes flashed with a wicked light, clearly enjoying every second of her unraveling beneath him. “you’re gonna beg now? after all that shit you pulled today?”

y/n’s head fell back against the wall, her resolve crumbling under the relentless pace of his fingers. “i’m— i’m sorry, okay?” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper, laced with desperation.

bakugou chuckled darkly, leaning in to press his lips against her ear. “too late for that, sweetheart.”

with one final, deliberate thrust of his fingers, he pushed her over the edge. y/n’s body tensed, her breath catching in her throat as her orgasm crashed through her like a tidal wave, the intensity of it overwhelming. her legs shook around him, her grip on his shoulders tightening as she rode out the high, every nerve in her body on fire.

bakugou didn’t let up, his fingers continuing their relentless pace, drawing out every last bit of her pleasure until she was trembling, barely able to keep herself upright. when he finally slowed, his fingers stilling inside her, y/n was left breathless, her body slumped against the wall, completely spent.

he leaned back slightly, pulling his hand away, his eyes locking with hers. “had enough, or you still wanna act like a brat?”

y/n managed a weak smirk, her breath still coming in shallow gasps. “maybe next time… i’ll let you win.”

bakugou raised an eyebrow, clearly not amused. “oh, we’re not done yet, princess.”

before she could respond, he scooped her up, carrying her towards the bedroom, a determined look in his eyes. y/n’s heart raced as she realized just how far bakugou was willing to take this.

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