#when it turns out the devil was playing them all along

[ja3yun]

Devil's Corner || S.JY

racer!jaeyun x rival's sister!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), food play - lollipops, exhibitionism (kinda), terribly described racing scenes, mentions of past trauma, anything else lmk! wc: 18k synopsis: jaeyun goes by a lot of names - leader of the lucifers, your brother's biggest rival, the number one racer in the south&west, and your non-boyfriend. on his birthday, you go to the grit track to wish him luck, not knowing your relationship is going to change forever. a/n: hi! i am not officially back, i'm still taking a break but it would be so wrong of me to miss the loml's birthday (although i'm early) <33 this isn't exactly how i wanted this to turn out so i'm sorry if it's shit 😮‍💨 anyway, i'll be back soon hopefully bc it's almost my one year anniversary. comments/feedback/reblogs are all appreciated and i love you all so much! happy jake day when it comes <3

“You know I can’t be here, Ireh,” you say, casting a wary glance around. “If Yeonjun sees me, he’ll lose his mind.”

“Will you just relax for like half a minute, please?” Ireh sighs, her voice tinged with lighthearted frustration as she tugs you closer to the grit track, the sound of revving engines growing closer. “He’s probably busy preparing for the race. You know how seriously he takes this.”

You dig your heels into the ground, stopping both of you in your tracks. “Girl, please be serious. We’re practically on the track! He could spot me in a heartbeat.”

Avoiding your older brother isn’t really in your nature; you’ve always been inseparable. You and Yeonjun are like two cubes of ice that no matter how much you whack them, they stay glued together. He always protects you, teaches you the ropes on how to navigate life even though there is only 3 years between you, and you would probably class him as one of your best friends. 

Yet, he never wants you to come to his races.

Yeonjun is one of, if not the best illegal drag racer in the city. He’s built respect around his and his crews name - Thursday’s Children - TC for short. Initially, he loved bringing you along to the races, but that quickly changed the moment you caught the attention of the one rival he despises.

Ireh turns to you, exasperation etched across her features as she crosses her arms. “So, do you want to see your boyfriend or not?”

“He is not my boyfriend, Ireh,” you retort, huffing the words out for what feels like the millionth time. But she isn’t wrong - you are here to see the boy, and though typically you wouldn’t risk coming to the tracks and getting caught by Yeonjun, there’s a reason for the risk tonight.

“Oh? So what do you call a guy you’re so hopelessly in love with that you’re willing to betray your brother and sneak behind his back?” she counters with a teasing lilt in her voice. “Because you wouldn’t do that for a casual hookup.”

That’s also the kicker of this whole thing; since that day when you bumped into Yeonjun’s rival and the ban was put in place so that you never have to come into contact with him…you’ve actually been seeing him almost every day for the past seven months. Your boyfriend who isn’t your boyfriend? That’s Sim Jaeyun - the leader of The Lucifers, and your brother's arch nemesis.

It makes you recoil every time you think about betraying your brother, especially when someone slaps you over the face with it so blatantly the way your best friend does. It’s worse because as much as you downplay the relationship, you can’t deny that there is something so real between you both. As soon as you met him, you were instantly drawn to him - like a moth to a very dangerous and reckless flame.

To be honest, you vowed to stay away from any and all racers. Each of them is arrogant and too prideful, your brother included, but the more you spoke with Jaeyun, got to know him and all his quirks, you realised quickly that he’s the exception. 

Jaeyun is ripped straight from the pages of a romance book. At first glance, with his sharp smirk and the swagger that comes with being one of the city’s top drag racers, he gives off that classic fuckboy vibe - a bit reckless, untouchable, with that unbothered arrogance he uses to get under other crew’s skin. To a lot of people, he’s just the arrogant leader of The Lucifers, quick to brush off his competition like they’re nothing. 

But that’s only half of who he is.

When it’s just the two of you, you get to see a side of Jaeyun that he guards closely - trusting you with something he doesn’t share with the world. He’s patient and tender, his words soft and careful, and it’s almost startling how different he can be. He’s not performing or putting up walls; he’s just there with you, completely and wholly, in a way that’s so real it takes your heart a minute to stop making more space for him. If you were to say this to anyone else that knew him, or of him, they would laugh in your face - and Jaeyun would deny it in a heartbeat.

It wouldn’t be fair to say he hides his ‘real’ self from others because being the racer everyone perceives is also part of him. The intensity he brings to the track is genuine - it’s a part of his soul, he’s clearly passionate about it, loving the thrill and heat that comes from burning some rubber and shouting a big fuck you to his opponent. But with you, Jaeyun allows himself to be something more. He only shows the loverboy side of him in your company, being with you gives him a moment to embrace a side of himself that he sometimes forgets about.

Of course, he’s still cocky and boastful - he’s allowed to be; he’s really fucking good - it’s the main reason why he and Yeonjun are rivals in the first place. While TC rules the North and East of the city, The Lucifers hold ownership of the South and West, but both of them want to be on top - the best in the city, not just their turfs.

In Yeonjun’s eyes, the only one who could be deemed better than him is Jaeyun, and that’s a bitter pill to swallow. So he won’t swallow it, he’ll use it as motivation instead, to beat Jaeyun in ever way possible.

Shifting your focus back to Ireh and ridding your mind of the thoughts of the leaders, you shake your head and let out the fakest laugh you think you’ve ever heard spit from your mouth. “In love with him? I am not in love with him. We’re just, seeing one another, casual, y’know?”

Ireh holds that knowing stare on you as you stand there, your mind battling with itself like it usually does in moments like these, justification and excuses bubbling up. “Listen, you can keep him as your ‘not boyfriend’ all you want,” she adds with a smirk, “but you know that label isn’t hiding your feelings. It’s written all over your face -  even now.”

You’re an open book, what your mouth doesn’t say, your face certainly will and you’re more than sure it’s telling the story of your heart that you refuse to admit. For both your sake and Jaeyun’s.

“Whatever, let’s just go find him.” Rolling your eyes, you take her arm and lead her further into the pit of people.

It’s heaving with racers, pit lizards, and those just looking to have a good time and smell the fumes. The floodlights guide you to the edge of the track while you thread your and Ireh's way through the crowd, moving closer to the edge, where you get a clear view of the grit track. Out of all the places Yeonjun and Jaeyun race, this track has a special place in your heart. There’s nothing too fancy about it, but it does have one element that outdoes all the rest; Devil’s Corner.

Devil’s Corner is infamous, a steep turn that has racers pushing their cars to the limit. They either conquer the bend or be conquered by it. It’s a sharp, merciless curve that rises slightly before plunging down at a nearly impossible angle, leading straight into a narrow stretch and to the finish line. So many have tried to beat it or show off on it - you’ve seen more than one car flip or crumpling like a smooshed tin can. 

Luckily, both your brother and Jaeyun know exactly how to handle it, masters of their art being proven each time. You never have to worry about them too much when it comes to this track, they’re usually way ahead of whatever chump tries to race them, but a little flutter of anxiety will always be there.

You squint against the harsh glare of headlights, raising a hand to shield your eyes as you scan the crowd. Among the bustle, you spot Heeseung and Jongseong leaning casually against a car with the devil printed crudely onto it, looking entirely at ease in the chaotic scene. They’re two of Jaeyun’s closest friends and crewmates, so wherever they are, he’s usually not far behind.

Heeseung is the first to notice you, nudging Jongseong with a mischievous glint in his eye as he shoots you a welcoming look. The two of them are more than just members of The Lucifers - they’re practically family to Jaeyun, and in turn that makes them your number one hype men and the only others to know about your secret fling.

Squeezing her arm, you guide Ireh across the track and into red territory, smiling brightly and suddenly forgetting about the possibility of Yeonjun spotting you. 

“Hi, boys!” you greet them warmly, letting go of your friend to hug them tightly. “How are you feeling?” Both of them have races tonight, though you could never tell with how nonchalant they both look. Going against TC always has higher stakes, but they don’t seem fussed.

Jongseong pats your head and smirks. “We’re chill, it’s only Gyu and Soobin, hardly competition.”

“We are shocked to see you though, doesn’t little Junnie usually keep you in a cage when it comes to TC Lucifer races?” Heeseung nips in.

“Well, I had to come and-”

“Support the number one racer on his birthday,” a fading Australian accent interrupts your sentence, his hands gripping your hips and instinctively pulling you back into him, your ass pressing against one of your favourite parts of him. 

Jaeyun’s touch is intoxicating, a magnetic pull that has you leaning back into him without a second thought, any anxiety about Yeonjun’s lurking eyes now vanished. His hands drift up and down your waist, lingering over the curves he knows so well, savouring the feel of the skintight dress you’ve slipped into just for him. You can feel his gaze, possessive, admiring, and utterly absorbed into you as his fingers press against the sheer fabric at your sides, the warmth of his skin teasing yours through the thin material. He loves it when you dress up for him because he knows it’s only for him, not one of these other fuckers at the grit track gets to touch you the way he does, gets to see you the way he does. 

Instinctively, he dips his head, his lips grazing your shoulder, trailing upwards in a slow, lazy path that sends a pulse straight to your core. His mouth follows the line of your neck, leaving a trail of heat that makes you feel like the two of you are alone in the world, past all of the noise and chaos around you. When he reaches your ear, he nibbles down and whispers, “Hi, Princess.” It’s a greeting as much as a claim, you’re his princess.

You’re aware, somewhere in the back of your mind, that this is probably the most reckless thing you could do. Yeonjun could be here any second, his protective instincts would be kicking in if he caught even a speckle of Jaeyun’s hands on you. And yet, the thrill of it only makes you want to sink deeper into Jaeyun’s touch. He holds you firmly, his grip the only thing holding you up right now.

However, you need to let go, scared of the repercussions. It’s bad enough you’re even on this side of the track, let alone in the arms of The Lucifer’s leader. So you spin around, gathering your bones and standing upright, although they almost turn to jelly again as soon as you see him.

His hair is bouncy, parted down the middle with two strands falling effortlessly on his face, pointing straight to that perfect nose that you’ve had the pleasure of riding one or ten times. His lips are curled up in a small smile, so subtle only you can see before it turns into a full-blown smirk, his kissable lips so inviting as he bites into his bottom one. You love his mouth, everything about it; how it looks, the way it tastes, it’s magical skills when it’s in between your legs, all of it.

“Happy birthday,” you murmur, smiling so fondly at him that you know Ireh is going to have something to say about it later.

“Thanks. What did my girl get me?” he asks, leaning forward and ghosting his lips over yours, his bottom lip begging to be bitten and sucked on. Every time he calls you his girl, you swear you almost get down on your knees and begin to worship him. 

Maybe you’re starting to see what Ireh and his friends mean about your non-existent label and what it should be.

You resist the urge to just devour him in a kiss as you speak. “I can’t show you it right now, not here,” you tease, poking your tongue out to wet your lips.

“Yeah? What if I ditch this race and we go somewhere that you can show me?” His voice is low and inviting, every word dripping with promise. Jaeyun leans down, his lips hovering just inches from yours, his eyes gleaming playfully. His hands roam up your back, his fingers pressing just hard enough to make you shudder, his nails grazing your skin ever so slightly - a subtle incentive to consider his tempting suggestion.

Before you can even nod, though, Jongseong clears his throat pointedly, a slight smirk tugging at his mouth. “Actually, mate, you really can’t skip this one,” he says in a language you can’t understand, his tone heavy with meaning meant solely for Jaeyun.

Jaeyun’s grip loosens slightly as he pulls back, and you seize the moment to break from his hypnotic gaze, turning to face Jongseong with a raised eyebrow. “What’s so special about this race?” you ask, voice laced with curiosity. “What’s at stake this time, a car?”

High-stakes wagers are nothing new. Racers love to have some form of motivation and it’s not unusual for bets to involve money, cars, or something like territorial rights over parts of the city. And while you don’t know exactly what’s in play, the tension between Jongseong and Jaeyun suggests this isn’t just any race.

“Not a car,” Jaeyun begins removing his hands from your waist, and just in time too, because over the racer's shoulder, you see someone walking over with raw fury and intensity over their features.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N?” Yeonjun spits as he approaches, his aura red. The last time you saw him this angry was when you accidentally mistook his MSCHF boots as funky vases and put the tulips that Jaeyun had got you inside them. Of course, he didn’t know they were from his rival, but you did just ruin his £300 shoes. 

Truthfully, they looked better as a vase.

Jaeyun’s hand still rests on your waist, firm and possessive, but you reluctantly take a step back, putting as much space as possible between you. You will yourself to look unfazed and relaxed, praying Yeonjun hadn’t seen Jaeyun practically dry-humping you just moments before.

Thinking on her feet, Ireh steps in, tossing a casual arm over Jongseong’s shoulder with a bright smile. “Actually, it’s my fault, Yeonjun,” she chirps, doing her best to sound apologetic yet unbothered. “I wanted to see Jongseong race, and I dragged Y/N along for moral support.” Her voice drops, filled with mock affection. “We’re dating.”

Everyone looks confused except Ireh, who is putting all those years bluffing to her parents about her whereabouts in the middle of the night to the ultimate test. They are easily fooled, but Yeonjun is not.

Glancing down at his ‘girlfriend’, Jongseong wears a look of uncertainty but also…happiness? You always suspected his crush on your best friend, this just confirms it. Like breathing, he slips into the role, slipping his arm around her waist and kissing her temple lovingly - he’s clearly taking this as an opportunity to be close to her.

Yeonjun’s lip curls as he looks Jongseong up and down with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. “Slim pickings around here, I guess. I didn’t think you’d settle for a shit stain on the sidewalk.”

Jongseong’s easygoing expression hardens as he holds Ireh close, offended and possessive. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he growls, his tone a warning.

Amidst the brewing tension, Jaeyun’s hand sneaks to find home on your ass, his grip firm and reassuring. He’s careful though, keeping his touch just out of Yeonjun’s line of sight, but you can tell he also doesn’t care, not really. He would fight your brother in an instant if it wasn’t for you asking him to keep it in check. No one ever tells Jaeyun what to do - not the authorities, not family, no one - but he’ll make the exception for you.

“Get off our side, Yeonjun,” Jaeyun finally interjects and pausing the bickering, his voice low and steady, clearly unbothered by the confrontation brewing. He removes his hand from you and he regrets it almost the moment it happens, wishing he could glue himself to you and always feel your warmth.

“Not until I get my sister back,” Yeonjun retorts, the words hang thickly in the air as the rest of The Lucifers gather around. 

Even the mere suggestion of you being taken away stirs something in Jaeyun, a slight tightening of his jaw, a flicker of protectiveness in his eyes. Now that he has you by his side, on his side both physically and literally, he doesn’t like you too far away.

But Jaeyun’s lips twitch into a mocking smile as he crosses his arms and hides his true feelings, eyes never leaving Yeonjun’s. “Take her back then,” he scoffs, tilting his head with an air of nonchalance that only stokes the fire. He turns to you, smirking and hiding that beautiful boy you know behind the arrogance of himself. “If that’s what she wants.”

The ball is in your court and you hate when people do this to you - making you choose - and this is the worst choice of all. Jaeyun is giving you the opening to stand up for yourself, something he’s been slowly but surely trying to help you do throughout the seven months of seeing him, but it’s so much harder than he realises. 

Betraying Yeonjun feels like tearing a piece of your soul away. The thought of hurting him, of driving a wedge between you twists in your gut. It’s not easy to reconcile the love you have for your brother with the undeniable connection you share with Jaeyun.

As the silence stretches, you take a deep breath, your heart racing. You glance at Jaeyun with sorrowful eyes, knowing you’re disappointing him with what you’re about to do. You take a step forward and stand by Yeonjun, looking down shamefully. You don’t dare look at the hurt in Jaeyun’s eyes.

And it’s there, only for you to see. He had truly hoped that this would say a big ‘fuck you’ and rid yourself of the shackles of Yeonjun’s overbearing brotherly role and claim the independence he’s been encouraging you to reach for. 

In all honesty, he has been respecting your wishes and he’s content with that, but he hates to see you battling with it so damagingly. Your anxiety gets the better of you sometimes, your brain whispering insults and what ifs while Jaeyun’s lips are on yours,l. It’s gotren so bad in fact that half of your secret meetups have consisted of you sitting in his lap while he strokes your back, whispering petal soft reassurances to calm you down from turmoil. 

Not exactly a five star date.

In some way, he wonders if the weight of it all is pressing harder now because you’re both crossing into a deeper territory of emotions that you can’t step back from.

“Ireh, don’t you dare bring Y/N back here again,” he warns your best friend, stepping in front of you, his way of protecting you but really he’s just locking you in the cage that he built. You can feel the heat of anger surrounding him and you feel ashamed. Not only are you in trouble but now your best friend is getting the blame for it. All because you can’t tell Yeonjun the truth.

Jaeyun pokes his tongue in his cheek and laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. He doesn’t say anything, but that’s enough to make Yeonjun tense once again, narrowing his eyes.

“You want to say something else?” your brother grits out, hoping that Jaeyun will bite his bait. 

Yet, Jaeyun simply raises his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, a playful smile on his face. “Nah, mate. I’ll save all my talking for out on the track, yeah?” The tone of his words is light but there’s an underlying tension simmering as he stops himself from saying what he really thinks. 

What he really wants to say is how fucking ridiculous it is to watch Yeonjun try to control not just your life but also those who have no obligation to bow to him. It’s clearly a trait of his - one he can’t get on board with.

However, the phrase ‘save all my talking for out on the track’ strikes you as oddly significant. You then suddenly remember Jongseong’s earlier cryptic warnings to Jaeyun about how he should stick around for the race and it all clicks into place. 

Your eyes widen as you search Jaeyun’s expression for confirmation, but he remains locked onto Yeonjun’s fierce glare, the two of them engaged in a silent battle of wills.

Pulling at Yeonjun’s wrist, you draw his attention back to you, though his gaze never wavers from Jaeyun. “You’re racing each other tonight? Why?” you ask, concern creeping into your voice.

Of course, it’s not uncommon for leaders of rival crews to face off in races; it happens all the time. But the stakes feel particularly high tonight, and a knot of worry forms in your stomach. They haven’t battled it out since that night you met Jaeyun and that almost ended with Yeonjun crashing and Jaeyun turning upside down. 

They have no limits when it comes to racing one another, and at the grit track, that can only mean bad things.

“Because Jaeyun here decided he wants this track to himself,” Yeonjun explains half-heartedly. 

The grit track is TC territory, placed technically within the east side of the city, but its location on the very edge of the west makes it up for grabs - if they can win it. For years, The Lucifers have wanted this spot, the leaders well before Jaeyun took charge could never do it. TC leaders make sure this is the one track they’re masters at, no one is ever able to beat them on it.

Jaeyun’s smirk widens, and he steps closer, closing the space between them. “The track belongs to whoever can handle it, not whoever sticks their name on it and hopes everyone just plays nice.”

“I’ve been handling it, in case you couldn’t see that,” he chides back, not appreciating the jab. “Your old leader Mingi couldn’t handle it against me, that’s the reason you became leader, right?”

Yeonjun’s smirk is cold, knowing that mentioning the former leader will get the reaction he wants from Jaeyun - and it does. Jaeyun’s easy smirk falters for a split second, his eyes darkening with a flash of barely concealed rage. Mentioning Mingi was a low blow, they both know it. 

Mingi is Jaeyun’s best friend and the night he tried to stake claim on TC turf, he ended up crashing the car, paralysing his body from the waist down. In truth, it’s the only reason Jaeyun is standing in the position he is right now, and he hates that fact.

He always admired Mingi as a leader.

Jaeyun’s voice drops, dangerously calm. “Say his name again,” he warns as the muscles in his jaw tighten. “But make sure you remember that if he hadn’t crashed because of your pathetic excuse of a trick, he would have this track, easy.”

Yeonjun’s smug grin only widens, feeding off the frustration simmering in his rival. “Is that right? Funny, because as far as I remember, it wasn’t foul play, he just couldn’t handle Devil’s Corner, and we all know what happened after that. Or maybe you’d like a reminder?”

The tension is suffocating, an invisible line drawn in the dirt between them, and everyone around senses that one wrong word could send it spiralling out of control. Jaeyun takes a step closer, closing the gap so that they’re nearly nose-to-nose. “You better watch your fucking mouth, you know what you did.”

You don’t know much about that night, neither of the men in your life wishing to utter a word about it, but all you’ve gathered from the rumours is that there are two sides to believe; one in which Mingi was simply reckless on the corner, a freak accident due to his negligence, the other? Yeonjun and his crew planted a spike trail on the road that caused him to flip over and roll down the hill. 

The rumours were never settled because the car took such a tumble that it eventually got engulfed in flames, the tyres melting and any evidence gone. It’s one of the biggest mysteries amongst the crews and only TC will truly know the truth, not that they would ever admit it.

Do you think your brother could do such a thing? Not in a million years, but you also know his competitive streak can cloud his judgment. Either way, you’re nervous about his and Jaeyun’s safety tonight.

Yeonjun’s expression hardens, dropping all pretences of mockery. “Prove it. I did fuck all, your pathetic excuse for a leader was just a shit driver that couldn’t handle the heat.”

The words are enough to push Jaeyun to the edge. His fists clench at his sides, but before he can lurch forward and connect his knuckles with your brother’s face, Heeseung pulls him back with a firm grip on his shoulder, speaking low and steady. “It’s not worth it, Jae. He wants you to lose it.”

“And I fucking will, the prick deserves it,” you hear him argue with his friend. It’s moments like these you wish you could just walk over to him and settle his nerves. Not in the Joey King in Kissing Booth way with the cliche ‘look at me, look at me’ vibes, but let him know that you’re there for him, that this urge to win and prove something might end up even more disastrous than Mingi’s fate.

While Heeseung and Jongseong tend to Jaeyun’s flaring temper, Yeonjun shifts his focus to you, his rebellious sister. “Seriously, Y/N, I told you to stay the fuck away from these races,” he has venom in his voice but that’s still lingering from the spout with Jaeyun. Towards you, there is affection and concern, his usual feelings towards you.

“I just…Ireh wanted me to come,” you lie, using the dark night and shadows from the floodlights to mask your growing nose. 

“Okay, fine. You still should have said no,” he rebuts, suddenly giving you a quick glance over, “And why are you dressed like that? You never dress like a track hopper.” 

It’s a little insulting, considering what you wear is none of his business, and that you actually do feel good in it.

You square your shoulders, meeting Yeonjun’s scrutinising gaze. “I wanted to dress up for once, alright? Is that such a crime?” you snap, your voice sharper than you initially intended. But something about his tone, so quick to judge, grates on you.

Yeonjun’s eyes soften just a fraction, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Y/N,” he begins, his tone shifting to something gentler. “I don’t mean to give you a hard time. I just don’t want you getting dragged into this, especially tonight.” His eyes flick to the track, the pits where engines roar to life, and the crowd of people buzzing with dangerous energy as they wait for the next race. “You’re above all of this.”

A small pang of guilt tugs at you, but you hold your ground. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Yeonjun. Let me just stay to support you,” you lie again, stomach twisting as the truth sits, heavy and hidden.

Yeonjun narrows his eyes, not fully convinced but willing to let it go - for now. “Alright, but stay out of the pit. And if anything happens, you leave, got it?”

“Got it. I’ll keep my distance.”

Satisfied, he gives a brief nod, but as he turns back towards his car, guiding you over to the right side of the track, where you belong. You look back as you watch Jaeyun eye you up, saddened at your sudden removal, but expecting it nonetheless.

You guess you’ll just need to see him once this is all over, and both of them finish this race safely.

You hope.

_____

The sound of engines revving fills the night air as you stand on the edge of the track, patiently awaiting Jaeyun and Yeonjun’s arrival. Your nerves are unsettled and your mind is very much being represented like that one scene in Spongebob where he forgets his name and the little sponges in his brain scramble for the answer.

It’s been a long time since you felt this tense, you thought coming here and hiding would be the thrill of your night, turns out that was the most mundane - and unsuccessful part.

The crowd is bigger now, all revved up - no pun intended - for the race. The stakes are high, like really high and you can’t imagine what the outcome could possibly be. 

A thrill courses through the crowd, the anticipation tangible as Jaeyun’s car pulls up on the east side of the track - your side. While most of the TCs around you murmur, assuming he’s just trying to throw Yeonjun off, they couldn’t be further from the truth. Jaeyun’s tactic isn’t about intimidation; he just wants a final glance at you before the race begins, to see you in that dress that Yeonjun hates oh so much, and use it as motivation. He doesn’t want to show off per say, but if you’re impressed, it’s a bonus.

The intensity in his eyes across the crowd is unmistakable, and when he whistles, a slight, beckoning tilt of his head makes it clear he’s calling you over.

You look around to see if anyone noticed, and once you’re convinced they haven’t, you check your brother. Sure enough, he’s deep in conversation with his crew, oblivious as he checks his car’s setup. 

Is it stupid to go over and risk getting caught? Of course. But Jaeyun has a persuasive smile and dreamy eyes to match. So the next thing you know, you take a deep breath, slipping through the sea of people, and make your way towards Jaeyun’s car. His smirk widens as you reach him, his hand already extended to brush your arm.

But you swat it away, half playfully, half serious. “What are you doing?”

“What?” he asks, eyes glinting with amusement. “Can’t a guy get a good luck kiss from his girl?”

“Jaeyun, are you fucking crazy? Look who’s right next to you!” you hiss, gesturing towards Yeonjun, who’s still unaware, thankfully. You really appreciate his attention to detail in these moments.

“Princess, you’ve been sneaking around and bouncing on my cock for seven months now. If he hasn’t caught on by now, I doubt he’s going to. He probably doesn’t even care.” He says it so easily, like all of this has just been in your mind and not a real threat.

“Yeah? Tell that to the way he glared you down not two hours ago. Or did you miss the part where he wanted to tear you to pieces for even breathing next to me?”

Jaeyun barely flinches at the mention, a hint of a pout replacing his smirk. “Come on, it’s my birthday. Don’t you think I deserve at least one little kiss?”

“Didn’t you already use the birthday excuse to get me here?” you counter, eyeing him with a playful twinkle.

“That’s for attendance,” he teases, leaning closer to you, practically hanging out the window just for a taste of you. “Kisses are part of the package.”

Unable to resist the temptation in his eyes, you check over your shoulder one last time before leaning in, brushing your lips against his in what should be a quick peck for luck, but he turns into so much more. 

Jaeyun’s hand slides up to cradle your cheek, his touch warm and possessive. His thumb brushes softly over your skin as he deepens the kiss, ignoring the chaos, this stolen moment is the only thing that matters. His fingertips, rough from years of racing, contrast with the gentle way he holds you, drawing you further into him.

His tongue sweeps over your lips and you can’t help but groan and grant him access to your mouth, praying to the gods to get a taste of him. You’re greedy for him, ravenous almost, and he mirrors your need. If he wasn’t in front of at least one hundred people, including your brother, he would be dragging your pretty ass into this car and watching your tits clap in his face.

But then, like a bucket of cold water, reality hits as Jungwon steps between the two cars, flag poised for the start. You pull away reluctantly and savour the last few pecks Jaeyun plants on your puffy, lipgloss-smudged lips. 

Yeonjun snaps to attention suddenly aware of your appearnce and his voice cuts sharply through the revving engines. “Y/N! What the fuck are you doing?” he shouts, his tone edged with disbelief and frustration. “I told you to stay off the pit!”

You jump, instinctively retreating from Jaeyun’s side as you stammer out a response, just thankful that he didn’t seem to notice how seconds prior you were getting your tonsils tangled with Jaeyun. “I was just…I was wishing you good luck!” You walk quickly, rounding Jaeyun’s car, trying to ignore the lingering sensation of the kiss. But Yeonjun’s face is a mask of exasperation as you approach his window.

“Y/N, get back!” he orders, eyes widening as he glances at Jungwon, who’s counting down without a care in the world.

Only then do you realise you’re directly between the two cars, and neither Jaeyun nor Yeonjun seems willing to delay the race.

“Three!” Jungwon’s deep voice booms, the crowd roaring as the tension builds.

Your feet feel glued to the ground, panic swelling in your chest. You know that chances of you getting hurt are slim, but you’ve never been this close to the race, so close that you can feel the heat from their motors swirling your leg like those snakes on Lucy Grey.

“Two!”

Jungwon raises the flag, ready to unleash it. The cars tremble with power, the engines growling, but your brain’s too scrambled to make a move. Jaeyun sees your tense frame and panics for you, scared of even a scratch on you.

“One!”

Suddenly, you feel a jolt - a car door bumps against the back of your legs, and before you know it, strong hands grab your waist, pulling you backwards in a quick, fluid motion. You land on something soft, but before you even realise what’s happened, Jaeyun’s arm reaches across to steady you in the passenger seat of his car.

“Go!”

With a salute to Yeonjun that’s equal parts taunt and triumph, Jaeyun hits the gas, and the world blurs as he speeds off, leaving your brother gaping in stunned disbelief behind you.

The wind whips through the open passenger door as you scramble to sit upright, barely processing what just happened. You feel like you’re suddenly on a rollercoaster, the car's oomph causing you to stick to the seat like the Sticky Wall.

“Can you shut that, Princess? You’re letting a draft in,” he smirks, too pleased with himself.

But all you can do is stare back, aghast. “What the fuck, Jae?! This is not funny.”

“It’s not, you could have got fucking hurt,” he tries to play it off as a joke but you hear the seriousness in his tone. When you look at him, you also see the slight fear in his eyes.

Jaeyun knows it was stupid to drag you into his car, but he panicked, what else could he do? All the possibilities swam across his mind like a reckless current. You could have gotten scratched up by the grit, swooped under the tyres with the sheer power of the acceleration…or worse.

Not all of these scenarios make sense, but the fear of losing you makes him think even the impossible. So if he can save you even from probabilities, then he will.

You reach over and such the door, the wind making it difficult as he rounds a corner. Once it clicks into place, you relax a little, breathing out. It happened in such a blur that you can’t even figure out where on the track you are. All you know is that Jaeyun is first, and you’re stuck in this race whether you like it or not.

Without taking his eyes off the road or his foot off the accelerator, he reaches over you and grabs the seatbelt, fiddling with it awkwardly to secure you in. You hate to say that you’re looking at the veins on his hands as he unravels it, but you are. You could be helping him and saving him the struggle but it’s just too fucking delicious to look at.

That distraction is the only thing stopping your heart from leaping out of your throat.

“Did you really think dragging me into your car, going a million miles per hour and having to survive the grit track safer than me standing on the starting line?” you question him, disbelief and mockery in your tone.

Jaeyun furrows his brows and lets your words sink in. “Well…when you put it that way, it’s dumb,” he agrees, mentally cursing himself. “But if you think about it, now your brother won’t pull any of his tricks. Not with his precious sister in the car.”

Now that embarrassment for his rash decision is turning into pride. Maybe subconsciously he pulled you into his car as a safety measure, after all, can’t be too careful around a bunch of TCs; not when there is so much at stake.

“Really? I’m a reassurance? What if he’s already planned something and you’ve just brought me to my demise?” It hurts you that Jaeyun truly believes your brother is capable of dirty tricks, but then again, you don’t have one hundred percent faith that he wouldn’t pull something.

Jaeyun looks into his rearview mirror and sees Yeonjun hot on his tail, probably filled with enough fury to power his car without an engine. It makes Jaeyun nervous, both your words and Yeonjun’s gaining speed, but he masks it under a laugh.

“At least we would die together. What’s that song? To die by your side-”

“Is such a heavenly way to die, yeah, yeah, it’s one of my favourite songs,” you admit, heart blushing that he even remembered it considering his playlists contain an abundance of Justin Bieber and other generic pop acts - he’s not really one to appreciate the Smiths. “But I would rather listen to the lyrics than live it out, Jaeyun.”

“I don’t see a double-decker bus,” he looks at you for a split second but it’s long enough that you see the teasing glint in his eye that masks his genuine concern, and weirdly, it puts you at ease. He would never let anything happen to you, you know that deep down.

You let out a genuine laugh and whack his arm playfully. “You know what I mean, Jaeyun.”

“Princess,” he intertwines his fingers with you, a chuckle escaping his lips, “I promise, okay? You will get out of this car in one piece.” Jaeyun kisses your knuckles and it’s both stomach fluttering and impressive how he can handle a car going 80mph and still have time to dote on you.

The romance doesn’t last too long though, because he has to lock in and focus. Behind him, Yeonjun’s car looms closer, headlights glowing like the eyes of a predator. He’s tailing Jaeyun so closely that any error, even a slight miscalculation, could end it all in a brutal collision. Jaeyun glances at his rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Yeonjun’s face, fierce and determined.

He figured your brother wouldn’t be in the best of moods with his act.

“You think that little gap’s gonna stop him?” you mutter, gripping the seat as Jaeyun expertly rounds another bend, tyres squealing against the track’s rough surface.

“Not a chance,” Jaeyun replies with a grin. “But it’ll take him a few seconds longer. Enough for me to play with.”

He shifts gears, feeling the engine’s deep growl as he powers down a straight stretch, his speedometer needle pushing higher. Yeonjun matches his pace, but Jaeyun, ever the strategist, swerves slightly, throwing up a cloud of grit in his rival’s direction. The dust storm is thick enough to obscure Yeonjun’s vision momentarily, forcing him to fall back by a hair’s breadth.

Jaeyun accelerates, barely missing a pile of tyres on his right. Just as he slips past, Yeonjun veers to the inside lane, attempting to pass on Jaeyun’s left. The corner’s coming up fast - a sharp, unforgiving turn with no forgiveness if they misjudge. Jaeyun catches on immediately, not giving Yeonjun the satisfaction. With a calculated flick of the wheel, he forces Yeonjun to either fall back or risk veering straight into the barrier.

Yeonjun, however, isn’t about to let him off easy. He falls back just enough to avoid a crash but quickly cuts to Jaeyun’s other side, inches away, daring him to swerve first. Their cars glide nearly side-by-side, matching each other’s pace in a tense, furious dance.

It’s so scary, being in the passenger seat of a car that’s almost buckling under the pressure of how fast it’s going. Of course, you knew this was not going to be like overtaking someone on the M8, but you sure as fuck didn’t expect this. The world is flying by you so fast that you can’t begin to comprehend how either of them even drives like this.

Your brother’s car pulls up beside you both and making eye contact with him is the worst thing in the world you could do. 

“Y/N, what the fuck?!” you lip read, unable to actually hear him over the roar of the engines. He blames you so easily -  even if it is 60% of your fault because you answered Jaeyun’s beckon - but it still makes you a little mad. 

Did you want to be dragged into this? Absolutely not. All you wanted was to kiss your pretty non-boyfriend good luck on his birthday, you didn’t need all these dramatics with it; you get enough fireworks in your belly from his pretty mouth alone.

The sound of the engine thunders louder, Jaeyun accelerating and pushing his car beyond its threshold as he glides through the race. It’s all pretty intense - and oddly fun - but it’s not about to be in roughly one minute. 

“Devil’s Corner’s up,” you murmur as if Jaeyun even needs the reminder. But he only nods, that familiar smirk dancing on his lips, a spark of something almost wicked in his eyes.

“I know,” he says with a determined grin, shifting gears smoothly as he sets up for the turn. “This is where your brother won’t risk it. He’s too careful with the track; it’s got him wrapped around its finger.”

“Everyone is careful around this part of the track…” you half express as a statement while also hinting that it could be a question, inquiring what Jaeyun could possibly do next. 

Your trail-off sentence steals his attention and he sees the query in your eyes. He inhales deeply before addressing the elephant in the car you’ve somehow given birth to. 

“Princess, do you trust me?”

“Of course, it’s the track I don’t,” you confess.

“Me either, but I gotta pull all the punches here; for the track, for the Lucifiers…for Mingi.” His voice cracks a little as he thinks of his friend, and the damage it caused him. 

Jaeyun's gaze hardens, fingers gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles whiten, as though he’s holding not just the car but every ounce of the Lucifier’s pride and promise he’s made as their leader. His mind is as sharply focused on Mingi as it is on the wheel, almost as if his friend’s presence is woven into every inch of the track ahead. There’s a weight he feels, a determination to make his best friend proud, to take the track that cost Mingi so much.

"Trusting me means sticking it out," he adds, almost like a dare. “You ready?”

You swallow, nerves bubbling as you nod, barely managing a steady breath. “Just…don’t do anything stupid, okay?” But even as you say it, you know Jaeyun’s already got a strategy, one as risky as it is relentless. He could fucking kill you right now and yet, you’re ready to put your life in his hands, because you know he’s never going to snap it.

Kind of like your heart.

Ahead, Devil’s Corner yawns open like a waiting trap, and Yeonjun knows it. You can feel the weight of your brother’s stare from the other car, his eyes sharp with worry and rivalry. He’s fought this corner countless times and knows that going at it full throttle will never end well. You catch the fleeting look on Yeonjun’s face - a mixture of fear, anger, and an unspoken warning. He’s petrified for you, not knowing how far Jaeyun will go to secure the win.

Yet, you couldn’t be calmer.

“Hold on, yeah?” Jaeyun instructs and you immediately obey, watching as the dial hits it’s peak, his car flying even further in front of Yeonjun’s.

“You need to slow down, Jae…” you warn.

“How about you put that trust into action yeah?” he snaps back, though his anger isn’t directed at you, he’s just nervously tense. Who wouldn’t be in a situation like this? So you don’t hold it against him. If anything, it just makes you want to take his hand in yours and offer him some semblance of comfort. 

But that would be silly right now considering there’s a death corner with you and his name on it.

As Jaeyun steers into Devil’s Corner, the entire car seems to tighten, every movement rippling through you as though you were an ant, squashed under the tyre. The pressure outside is immense, like a wall of wind trying to shove the car off the road. Inside, it’s nearly as suffocating, the tension compressing everything around you, even your heartbeat syncs with each vibration of the engine.

The curve is sharp - even sharper than you’d realised watching from the stands - and you feel the pull of gravity as Jaeyun doesn’t so much follow the turn as he cuts through it, daring the edge. Gravel spits and clinks against the sides of his precious baby.

Yeonjun is somewhere far back, but you can’t even think about him or his safety. The only thing consuming your mind is Jaeyun’s grip on the wheel and the creeping dread and exhilaration fighting for space in your lungs.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you convince yourself that it’s less scary to face it if you can’t actually see it - using the ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ childlike tactic to feel brave. And in the midst of it all, as the car feels like it’s on the edge of its control, you hear Jaeyun’s voice over the noise - a steadying presence cutting through as he senses your apprehension.

“Nearly there, Princess,” he mutters through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched and his heart holding still within his chest. Although he’s fighting the battle of fear and hope inside of him, his voice anchors you just enough to brace yourself.

The car rockets through the tightest part of the bend, wheels practically skating on the track's very edge - the same edge that caused Mingi his loss of legs. You grip onto whatever you can as Jaeyun’s knuckles whiten, his hands firm and controlled on the wheel. The tension in the car mounts like a coiled spring ready to snap, the corner pulling both of you, testing how far it can go before either you or the car breaks under pressure.

At last, you feel the tail end of the car swerve slightly as Jaeyun gives just enough leeway to keep control, and you can sense him gaining ground, just barely escaping the grasp of the turn. Devil’s Corner spits you both out onto the straight stretch and for a heartbeat, there’s only the muted sound of your breathing, mixing with Jaeyun’s, heavy and relieved.

Finally, you open your eyes to see the road unwinding ahead, straighter, safer, and almost welcoming after the chaos of the corner. Your pulse is still racing, but the danger feels like it’s finally behind you - or so you hope. Jaeyun throws you a quick, side-glance, his usual cocky smirk returned but softer, almost a silent acknowledgement of the risk he just took with you by his side.

He doesn’t need to say anything, but as he shifts gears, pressing down harder on the accelerator to widen the gap between him and Yeonjun, his smirk says it all: That was for Mingi, and for you.

Once he sees the finish line in sight, he breathes out and slaps the wheel harshly. “Fuck, yeah!” he hollers, a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face, victory secured and only a long stretch away. 

“Holy fuck…” you breathe out, chest heaving and eyes glued to the road in front of you.

“And you doubted me,” he feigns an upset pout and tilts his head in your direction.

“Well, you still have Yeonjun to deal with.” The reminder of your brother fast approaching doesn’t rock him, instead, he laughs.

Shaking his head as if Yeonjun’s trailing position is as much of an inconvenience as a bird shitting on his windshield, Jaeyun places a hand on your thigh and squeezes. “He’s still there because I let him be there. Can’t humiliate the guy completely y’know? He’ll be my family in the future.” 

Your mouth opens as you process his words, unsure if he even realises what he just said. It’s a pass-away promise of commitment, and considering you aren’t even officially dating, you would say it’s thrown you off of Everest and has your mind tumbling down after your body.

It’s probably best to bring it up later though, you don’t want to throw him off, especially considering he’s still going 50mph.

He smirks and revs the engine once more, pushing the car just shy of its limits. “Why so worried? I’ve got a perfect record of keeping you safe, don’t I?” He raises an eyebrow at you, his voice laced with that familiar teasing tone.

“Oh, you mean the ‘perfect’ record that almost just got me toppling over into the ditches of Devil’s Corner?” You roll your eyes, but a smile creeps onto your face.

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” he grins, then he pulls his attention fully to the finish line up ahead. It’s close enough now that the crowd is visible, and he salutes them with a quick flick of his hand. 

God, he’s so hot when he’s like this. How lazily arrogant his entire racing persona is. You adore his softer side, of course you do, but this side of him gets your own motor running.

Yeonjun, however, isn’t ready to concede. He surges forward, lining up beside you both in a final, determined push, his car engine roaring with a fury that sends chills down your spine. You see him shoot a glare, not just at Jaeyun, but at you as well. But Jaeyun merely returns the look, cool and unbothered, and then, with one final roar of his engine, he edges past the line first, a triumphant laugh escaping his lips.

Jaeyun’s car barrels across the finish line with a triumphant howl from the crowd, cheers blending with the echo of his engine as he cuts through the air, a living victory. The thrill radiates off him; he punches the air, letting out a victorious whoop as his foot remains steady on the accelerator. He finally glances over at you, his face alive with pure elation, his cocky grin fully in place. But instead of slowing down, he maintains his speed, the wind whipping through the car as you look back at the receding crowd.

"Wait - where are we going?" you ask confused, looking back as you pass by everyone and leaving them in the wake of victory.

Jaeyun flicks his gaze over, eyes dark with both mischief and longing. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, Y/N, but you still owe me my birthday present,” he says hick and low, each word like a steady drumbeat against your pulse.

You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your own voice steady. “Don’t you want to celebrate with everyone? You just won the Lucifers the grit track and Devil’s Corner.”

He lets out a laugh, deep and incredulous. “Celebrate with everyone else? Princess, I’d be out of my mind to spend one more second without seeing what you have for me. I would be fucking insane, actually.” He eyes you hungrily, already imagining all the possibilities under your dress or up your sleeve. His tongue brushes his bottom lip in a glazing swoop, a promise lingering in his gaze that leaves your cheeks feeling warmer than they should.

He shifts gears, and you glance back to see the track and the crowd becoming distant figures in the rearview mirror, your brother among them. “Besides,” Jaeyun adds, leaning closer as he cuts through the night, “Do you really wanna see Yeonjun right now?”

“...No.”

“Good, then trust me.”

_____

The car halts, tyres crunching over gravel as you take in the scene before you. Below the dark sky, the city sprawls out like a tacky but beautiful Christmas night with glittering lights, each window and streetlamp reminiscent of a fairy light. Below, the river carves an almost silver line through it all, shimmering under the moonlight. It’s too beautiful for you to describe and give it the credit it deserves.

Jaeyun doesn’t speak at first. His hand finds yours, fingers slipping through as he releases a slow, steady breath. He wasn’t aware how badly his muscles were suffocating his bones until now. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, an absent yet soothing gesture, and he finally lets himself relax, the hard lines of his jaw softening as he looks at you. The moonlight catches his features, highlighting the relief etched on his face - a look so different from the racer who stared down Devil’s Corner only 20 minutes ago.

For a moment, you both just sit there, silently letting the thrill of the night settle. You turn to him, sensing his guard finally lowered, his eyes holding something warmer, deeper than his usual confident smirk.

“It’s so pretty here,” you murmur softly, nodding towards the city.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, bringing your lips to his hand and kissing your knuckles softly, the tingle from the spark shooting all over your body. “I’d say the view is pretty fucking perfect.”

A blush creeps on your face, his eyes glued onto you as he mumbles the words into your skin, each syllable fluttering to your heart. Of course, he means you. He has seen this exact city view a million times, often coming up here after races to cool off and regather himself. 

It’s the first place he drove to once he heard about Mingi.

It’s the first place he drove to once he met you.

It’s the first time he’s shown someone this spot.

Letting go of your hand, he quickly offers you a small smile before undoing his seatbelt. “C’mon, let's get a closer look.”

With that, you follow him and you both settle against the hood of the car, your shoulders brushing as you take in the sprawling lights below, wrapped in the quiet of the moment. The city glows, pulsing like a heartbeat, life so obvious yet subtle. You tilt your head toward him and nudge him softly.

“So,” you say, half-smiling, “how does it feel?”

“What?” 

“Winning the grit track.”

He shrugs, and his gaze becomes distant, falling somewhere into the night. The silence stretches on, but it’s comfortable, the city’s buzz helping to fill the contemplative silence between words. 

“I don’t care,” he murmurs, surprising you into a pause.

“What do you mean?” you ask, caught off guard. After all, this entire night was about winning the territory, claiming a stake over it and expanding the Lucifers’ ground. It sounds like a shitty action movie on Tubi now that you think about it, but that really is what the crews strive for. So for Jaeyun to say he doesn’t care, when he did what his past leaders couldn’t, throws you for a new one.

“The track…he can keep it,” Jaeyun says with a dismissive wave, almost as if he’s letting go of a heavy burden. “It was never about winning a stupid bit of dirt road.” He pauses, biting his lip as he searches for the right words. “I wanted to prove that TC had something to do in Mingi’s accident.”

The words leave his mouth in a rush, and you feel the weight of his pain and loyalty colliding in that confession. Jaeyun’s gaze stays trained on the city, brow furrowed, his jaw set, the ease on his bones only lasting the skip of a jump rope. 

He truly believes that Yeonjun was involved - that he orchestrated some plan to knock Mingi out. You’ve seen Jaeyun’s loyalty; you know Mingi is more than a friend to him, practically family, and Jaeyun’s heart has no room to consider the idea that Mingi could’ve just…lost control.

You scoot closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm, sensing how vulnerable this confession has left him. “Look, Jaeyun,” you start, hesitating. “I don’t believe my brother would do something like that. But just because you made it through Devil’s Corner safely this time doesn’t rule out anything, yeah? There’s still a chance he had nothing to do with it…but maybe he did.”

He looks at you, contemplation written in the lines around his eyes, but doubt remains.

“I just can’t accept that it was some accident, you know?” he finally says, his voice tight with frustration. “Mingi was solid. The guy could practically drive in his sleep, and suddenly he spins out there?” His shoulders tense as he talks, each word laced with an anger born of grief and unresolved questions. He wants answers, and you sense how deeply he’s embedded in this conviction.

“Okay, so what if…” You hesitate, not truly believing the words coming out of your mouth right now, but knowing Jaeyun needs something to hold onto his faith in Mingi. “What if Yeonjun did have something to do with Mingi’s accident? He could have been planning it tonight but called it off because I was in the car with you?” 

Biting the inside of his cheek, Jaeyun lets out a harsh laugh, but it’s not at you. “Then I could have got you fucking hurt, and what kind of man does that make me?”

It’s as if any reasoning or justification for his actions has suddenly all surged to his mouth and left a bitter taste, one that he finds hard to coat over with some mints. In his mind, he convinced himself for the moment that he was saving you, but in actuality, maybe he was just protecting himself. 

He could have lost you.

That though makes him stand up and walk closer to the cliff edge, not enough to cause you alarm, but enough that indicates he’s in the need of feeling free from his mind.

And that’s something you can definitely help with.

Pushing yourself off the car, you reach out to him, lacing your arms around his waist as you hug him tightly from behind. Instantly, he cups your linked hands in his and melts into you, closing his eyes in relief as you kiss his back ever so gently.

“We can’t know what happened that night, Jaeyun, no one ever will. But it’s also not your battle.”

“But I-”

“No. End of story.” You twist him around to face you, your hands dipping your hands into his back pockets. “Mingi and Yeonjun raced that night, the outcome was what it was, and we have to move on. The longer we sit in the past, in this mindset of what if and what could have been, you prolong everyone’s pain, especially yours. And I won’t sit back and watch you do it.”

It’s tough, and you wish you could have laid it all out a little more prettily, but a dagger of truth won’t sink into skin if it’s covered in padding and fluff. 

Jaeyun’s eyes portray a man trying to will himself to argue with you, that fight for his friend still very much alive. Yet, he knows you’re right. He isn’t helping himself by wallowing in the past, he’s only hurting himself and creating a deeper hole in his chest, one that is consuming him alive.

But no one has told him to get the fuck over it. Not until now.

“I know for a fact that Mingi does not want you dwelling on it, especially not tonight. You won the grit track, I’d say he’ll be over the moon with that, wouldn’t you?”

The last nudge is enough to make Jaeyun nod, a small smile creeping on his face. “Yeah. I saw him before the race and all he asked was ‘don’t fucking die and get us that track’.”

“See? You achieved both of those requests, I would say that’s worth celebrating,” you grin widely up at him, relieved to see his jaw loosen and shoulders unravel themselves. “It’s also your birthday…which is another reason to celebrate.”

Jaeyun checks his watch and sucks in a breath, his playful demeanour slowly coming back to the surface, much to your delight. “It’s actually past my birthday now.”

Widening your eyes, you drag his wrist to your face, reading the clock's arms as they disappointingly read 12:04am. The sadness is plastered all over your face, your eyes looking glassy due to both regret and the cold wind nipping them. 

Jaeyun immediately notices your solemn expression and pouts, holding back a laugh. “Princess, it’s okay.”

“It’s not. I didn’t even get to give you your presents.” You are never one for being late with gifts, in fact, you take birthdays so seriously that gifts are often in your friend’s hands early in the morning. Every birthday is precious to you, well, maybe not your own, but you love to make others feel appreciated and seen on the one day that is reserved for them. 

The racer looks at his watch again and reaches for the dial, twisting it back as the small arrow rounds anti-clockwise to the 11. Happily, he flashes the watch’s face in front of yours. “Look, now it’s 11:05pm. You have 55 minutes left.”

A laugh bursts out of you, the heartache over the small inconvenience now lifted by his antics. He always knows what to do, what to say, how to lift you up so easily, it’s his superpower. 

“Okay, which one do you want first?” you step back and place your hand on your hips, exhaling the drama from tonight out of your system. No more racing, no more brother, no more bad thoughts. Just you and Jaeyun celebrating the final hour of his birthday.

“There’s more than one?” he asks in a smug tone. 

“There are three in total. One is your main present and two are tiny little things,” you explain.

Nodding, Jaeyun feigns ponder as he taps his chin. “Well, I think I should save my main for last, so let’s start with the ‘tiny little things’” he repeats back to you, knowing that they won’t in fact be tiny, their significance probably vastly bigger than any other gift he has ever received throughout his previous 21 birthdays.

Holding up a finger, you tell him to wait before you open the right backseat door of his car and retrieve two carefully wrapped gifts. You put in far too much effort in folding each corner perfectly and twirling every bow to sit neatly, but looking at your work now, you can safely say it was all worth it.

Confusion crosses Jaeyun’s pretty face as he points to his car. “When did you sneak into my car and put them in there?” he asks with piqued confusion. He would notice bright yellow wrapping paper with orange ribbons in a minute, the colours bouncing so brightly off his black interior.

“I didn’t,” you shrug as you confess, holding out the two gifts. “I shoved them both under my seat when you paid for the gas yesterday.”

“Your seat, huh?” he repeats with a lace of amusement, taking the top box from your grasp.

“Well, do you drive other women about?”

“Don’t ask fucking ridiculous questions. You’re the only girl.” 

You curse your stomach for flipping out like it’s on an Alton Towers ride, the statement probably meaning nothing significant from his lips. He always says pass away comments like that, and each one you desperately try not to read into too much, your heart having a hard time already with calling this relationship between you both casual, never mind your brain popping up with conspiratorial thoughts that he could see you as something more than his non-girlfriend.

Gently, his hands peel the wrapping paper off, and reveal the first gift. 

“Lollipops?” he laughs out, though joy shines from his features. 

“Well I saw you were running low, and it is my fault you need to stock up on them, so…” you explain sheepishly, your foot carving out nonsense lines in the gravel.

Since you started hooking up, Jaeyun quit smoking. You hate the taste of the cigarette on his tongue and the smell of it in his car, and he caught onto that instantly. The way you would spray your perfume ‘randomly’ after he flicked the butt out his window, or how you offered him a chewing gum coincidently a few minutes before you climbed into his lap and licked into his mouth. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

So he stopped. Cold turkey without a second thought. He still had the itch though, muscle memory constantly bringing something to his lips for a drag. That’s when you gave him a strawberry Chupa Chups and he never looked back. His dentist hates you for it, but his doctor couldn’t be more delighted. 

Taking a cola lollipop from the assorted selection, he unwraps it and places it into his mouth, humming as the beautiful taste hits his tastebuds. His tongue swirls the ball of goodness and he instantly smiles at your reaction, deciding to play on it.

You curse him, his smirk widening as he rolls his eyes and opens his mouth just wide enough for you to watch the cola lolly get coated in his saliva, his tongue enveloping it the exact same way he does with your clit when he’s buried face first between your thighs.

Squeezing your legs together in order to stop the flow of arousal from dripping down your leg, you thrust the other present into his chest, retrieving the box of lollipops from him in the process. The further these things are from his mouth right now, the better.

“Okay, now this one,” you urge, clearing your throat and hating the way he pushes the sweet to the side of his mouth, the stick pocking out the corner of his mouth like a toothpick. Somehow, it only made him hotter, like Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You.

God, now you’re even more horny.

Jaeyun nods and flips the gift over, inspecting what it could possibly be. But he’s never been good at guessing, so he quickly tears the paper off, a little more forcefully than the lollipops. A black box adds another layer of suspense and curiosity. “Did you get me a diamond necklace?” he jokes, but once he peels open the lid, nothing is funny anymore.

His eyes flicker between you and the gift. “Y/N…”

“It’s not much, I know. But I thought it was fun,” you explain, scared that it’s not enough.

Picking it from the box, Jaeyun inspects it carefully. To most, it’s just a keyring, but to him, it’s the most thoughtful gift he has ever been given. The mini replica of his precious car, clearly hand-decorated by you stands out - the red decals and perfectly selected interior act as a mirror to the real thing; even the license plate has his famous J4K3YUN etched into it. The black Honda Civic replica sits so tiny yet powerful in his hands. 

It was the first car he could afford. Everyone laughed at him - even Mingi - when he turned up to his first race. It’s a shitty little car with not much horsepower, but considering he was only seventeen when he started racing, he could hardly afford to put his student loan into a BMW or Aston Martin. Instead, he modified it, just enough to put his name out there.

His baby has never let him down since. All those times everyone has pestered him to trade her in have never crossed his mind. Even you know how much she means to him. Why else would you have given him an oversized keyring of it?

You know him, and that squeezes Jaeyun’s throat, stopping him from expressing thanks.

“If you pop open the boot, it has something inside,” you point out, excited. He’s made modifications to the real thing, but you got crafty with the mini-me.

“Can anything even fit in this?” he laughs but nonetheless, opens the boot - and it is not what he was expecting. 

The interior has been prettily painted pastel pink, with glitter and gems perfectly placed inside, crowding the minuscule space. The first initials of your names are enveloped in a shakily drawn heart. It’s pretty and so very, very you.

Jaeyun’s eyes sparkle in the moonlight and you interpret it as pure adoration, injecting some pride into your chest. He likes it - thank fuck.

“I thought it was fun, since y’know, on the outside you’re all tough and metal but inside you’re just a sparkly pink princess.” You place the lollipop box on the hood and step closer, inspecting your work once more - as if you haven’t been scrutinizing every detail of it over the past month. 

Throwing his head back in a laugh, he blinks away the joy in his tear ducts and nods, sighing out in defeat. “I’m not so sure ‘princess’ is the word I’d use-” he starts, only for you to interrupt.

“Oh, you are,” you insist, taking the lollipop from his mouth and placing it in your own, “You’re the prettiest princess to ever exist, actually.”

“I think that title is reserved for you, baby,” he grins fondly, eyes raking over every feature of your face as you savour the taste of the cola sweet. “Thank you…so much, Y/N, no one has ever gotten me something so thoughtful. I really love-...it. A lot.” His throat tightens, words tangling up in his chest, but thankfully, you don’t seem to notice

Nodding, you give him a soft kiss, careful not to poke him with the lollipop stick, before taking the gift back, carefully placing it and the lollipops in the car for safekeeping. “Now, do you want your big present?” You wiggle your brows and shut the car door, almost skipping back to your spot in front of him.

Jaeyun was so caught up with everything tonight that he forgot that this was the reason he whisked you away as soon as the race ended, at least, it was the shallow reason. The deeper reason is something he won’t speak out into the night air.

Placing his hands on your hips, glides his hands up and down your sides, the warmth from his palms blissfully welcome. You love this dress, the way you feel in it, how it makes you look, but it isn’t exactly good for fighting the nipping cold away, especially considering the wind is much thinner up on the cliff.

“My big present…” he repeats, bringing his face down to yours, his hot breath creating a rose tint along your cheeks. “I think I want that more than anything right now.” His confession is raw and more than surface-level lust. He has so many emotions running through his body right now, and he knows that your present is going to be exactly what he needs.

“You need to unwrap it then.” The smirk on your face is contagious and your voice is low. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what your gift is, but he’s in for a treat nonetheless.

Jaeyun does pause for a moment, his hands fiddling with your zipper at the back but hesitant. “I think my gift might freeze to death if I unwrap it here, don’t you think?” 

You hadn’t…thought about that actually. To be honest, when it comes to Jaeyun’s cock, that’s probably the only thing you think about. Rain or shine, snow or fog; if his dick is close to being inside of you, you’ll face any weather.

His fingers pinch the zipper and tug it down slowly, the winter air biting up your spine, but the shivers that are rippling through your body aren’t from freezing; the opposite in fact. The ghost of his fingertip creates a heated surge through your body, your skin igniting with pure desire. 

Pushing the dress off your shoulders, your tits are laid bare in front of him, nipples hard and much more delicous than any lollipop Jaeyun could ever suck. They’re perfect, so perfect that he has a hard time putting his love for them into words.

“No bra?” he asks cheekily, that cocky boy everyone loves swimming to the surface of the night. 

Shaking your head, you close your eyes as he cups them delicately. “Dress didn’t look right with it.”

“Is that the only reason?” Jaeyun’s thumbs flick over your hardened buds as he backs you up to the hood, you ass perched against the edge, a welcomed seat considering your legs could turn to jelly at any moment.

Truth be told, it was the main reason you didn’t wear a bra, with the tightness of the dress, it didn’t allow much more room for any extra padding. But you can’t lie and say that you also didn;t adorn one because it would save time.

“I’ll take your silence as confirmation, will I?” he murmurs, his lips grazing the hollow of your throat before travelling down, sending waves of warmth through you with each kiss.

You feel the cool press of the hood beneath you as he lifts you up to perch you, his mouth finally closing around one of your nipples now you’re at the perfect height, his tongue tracing lazy, agonising circles that make your breath catch. He shifts to the other, his gaze flicking up to meet yours as he bites gently, eyes smouldering with a dark intensity that only makes you want him more. 

With each flick of his tongue, your mind fogs over, the chill of the night air long forgotten. His mouth leaves a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses as he works his way down, fingers slipping under the fabric gathered at your hips, thumbs tracing soothing lines along your waist.

“Are these new?” he hikes your dress up so only your waist is covered and your new panties are on full display for him. It’s incredible how he noticed initially through touch alone, his mind cataloguing each thong, brief, and lacey panty you own. 

“Yeah, got them a few days ago.” You don’t need to tell him that you bought them specifically for his birthday, he will know just by the Ivory colour alone.

A playful smirk curves on his lips as he takes in the sight of your new lingerie, his fingers grazing over the delicate lace with a possessive tenderness. “I thought so,” he murmurs, voice low and almost reverent as his thumb hooks under the fabric, dragging it down with aching slowness, leaving your cunt exposed, yet you feel anything but vulnerable.

There is a thrill of anticipation that crackles between you as his hands linger, his thumb tracing a line along your thigh. You’re so consumed with how close he is to your heat that you almost miss his other hand coming up to remove the cola lolly from your mouth. 

“Open up,” he instructs, which you blindly follow, releasing the delicious treat from your mouth. “Good girl. Now, spread open for me.”

“Jaeyu-”

“It’s my birthday, Princess. I still have,” he checks his rewound watch, “36 minutes left, so until then, you gotta do what I say, yeah?” 

That sounds perfect to you if you weren’t aware of how much of a tease he is. He’s going to torture you on the hood of his car, you know it, but you relent anyway, giving him a sharp nod and breathing out slowly.

Your legs spread wide, your feet finding stability on his bumper. The compromising position could mean anything, your mind flashing with all the possibilities of what he could do to you.

And by fuck, does he have a sweet, sweet plan.

A glint of mischief flickers in his gaze as he tilts the lollipop, the cola sweet glistening in the moonlight as he brings it down to hover just above your entrance. The sticky sweetness clings to the night air, and you feel your body tense with anticipation, each nerve heightened by the thrill of surrendering control.

He runs the candy along your inner thigh first, slow and deliberate, leaving a faint, sugary trail that he follows with his mouth. The coolness of the lollipop contrasts sharply with the warmth of his breath, sending shivers skittering up your spine as his lips and tongue trace after, claiming every inch of sweetness he’s left on your skin.

Finally, he presses the lollipop between your folds, teasingly dragging it up and down without quite giving you what you need, his eyes fixed on your reactions, devouring every tremor, every bite of your lip and jerk of your hips as the lollipop circles your clit. The sensation is maddening, the blend of sticky from the sweet and your own juices only heightens the ache building within you, and he seems to revel in the slow, torturous rhythm he’s set. He wants to take his time.

The lolly ghosts your entrance before he presses it ever so slightly inside, your breath hitching at the unexpected sensation. His mouth follows close behind, claiming you with a slow, deliberate kiss that has your toes curling against the bumper, his tongue tracing the sweetness lingering on your skin.

A wave of heat radiates through you as Jaeyun continues his maddeningly slow pace, the lollipop pressed just at your entrance, teasing and coaxing you in a way that has your pulse racing, much like how it was when you were near death on Devil’s Corner. 

He dips the lollipop in a little further, the rounded edge pressing in just enough to make you gasp and claw at his car bonnet, and then he draws it back out, running it up and over your clit with agonising patience. The pressure of the sweet gliding over your most sensitive spot has you squirming, but his hands are firm on your thighs, keeping you right where he wants you.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, a wicked smile curving on his lips as he swirls the lollipop slowly, tracing lazy circles that leave you breathless. The candy, now coated in your own slick, sends shockwaves through you, and you feel yourself clenching, trying to draw him deeper, desperate for more. Jaeyun seems to notice, and he chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling against your inner thigh.

With one last, lingering drag of the candy over your clit, he brings it to his mouth, sucking in the mix of flavours. Your sweetness mixing on his tastebuds with the cola makes his eyes roll and contemplate opening up a business just for him that sells pussy flavoured lollies. Specifically, your pussy, of course.

“You’re fucking delicious, Princess,” he moans out, sucking the pop with fervour. You’re so jealous and you curse ever buying him them. But not really, the scene of his tongue lapping it up eagerly, mixed with the saliva that's glistening on his lips only adds a series of precious memories that you can happily store in your wank bank.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you tug at it just rough enough for him to growl. “Please, I’m trying to cum for you before your birthday ends.”

“Yeah?” he huffs out a laugh and tosses the almost obsolete lolly away, the stick hidden by the gravel that swallows it. “I can make that happen.”

“Good-”

“If you beg.”

You freeze, resisting the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. If there is one thing you hate most in the world, it’s begging for a man. You can submit to Jaeyun, sure, that’s easy enough. But there’s something so humiliating about having to plead for your own pleasure. He never makes you beg, usually too fucking impatient himself to play that game, so this is not exactly in your forte.

“I’m not begging. No way.” You cross your arms and shake your head adamantly. 

Jaeyun’s smirk widens as he sees your defiance, his gaze darkening with something that borders on both amusement and challenge. “Really now?” he murmurs as his thumb traces slow circles on your inner thigh, inching achingly close but not quite where you want him. “You’re gonna stand by that?”

His eyes roam over you, taking in the way your body reacts despite your stubbornness, and you can feel the tension building in the air as he leans in, his lips hovering just above your core, close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath. The anticipation sends shivers racing over your skin, but you keep your arms crossed, refusing to relent. 

“I know you hate it. You’re so powerful, baby. I adore that about you,” he continues in a low murmur, voice laced with a teasing edge, “But just once, for me?” He pouts, bottom lip overtaking his entire face and somehow making him look even more irresistible.

That fucking pout.

With a small laugh, he shifts down, pressing soft and tongue-focused kisses along your thighs, each one closer than the last. His breath is warm, and you can feel the control slipping from you with every careful movement.

“Fine,” you say finally, voice barely more than a whisper, “Please, eat me out.” 

“Come on, Princess. If you’re going to beg, I want to hear you properly.”

“Jaeyun,” you whine, already flushing up with embarrassment.

“How about,” his mouth places one feather-light kiss on your clit, a gasp of pleasure drawing from your lips, “I beg you to beg me? Then we’re both on the same boat.” 

Now, while you don’t like to beg, you love to hear Jaeyun beg. There have been countless times when you’re on your knees, much like he is now, and your mouth is a hairline away from his tip, and he’s thrashing under you, moaning out pleas and needs in a higher pitch, wanting nothing more than you to consume his painfully hard cock in his mouth.

Jaeyun doesn’t have humility when he is with you, he’ll scratch and claw at the bedsheets, whine out your name in desperation, and have you take full control if you want to. You wish you could be more like that, because fuck does it look beautiful, and you know he will love it if you’re a crying, pleading mess under him. 

It would be the perfect birthday gift, actually.

So with a heavy sigh, you close your eyes and clear your throat. “Okay. But only if you go first.”

Jaeyun smirks and rubs some heat back into your legs. With soft, kitten-like licks, he plays between your folds, giving you an inch of what's to come. “Princess, please beg for me. I’ve been such a good birthday boy, have I not? I need to hear you want me, the same way I need you. This pretty pussy deserves to be devoured, and I can only do that if you beg for it. Please, baby. Pretty please with a lollipop on top.”

God, he is so fucking good at it. Somehow he still sounds so strong and assured even when you can hear the cracks in his voice and the tremble on his lips. His hips buck the air, mimicking what he wants to do with you, his cock leading him, thinking with his second head.

Whimpering, you look down to see him adorning that pretty pout once again, and you crumble.

“I nod. Jaeyun…please make my cum on your tongue, let me give you the best birthday gift. I want you to lap me up and never stop, make you remember this birthday for the rest of your life. Please, baby.”

You don’t cringe, instead letting your desperation take charge, which gladly works. Jaeyun groans loudly at your filthy words as they echo over the cliff, giving the city indication of what’s taking place. His cock is so painfully hard against his jeans that he wonders if it has the ability to tear through the material like Hulk when he transforms. It certainly feels like it could.

“Good girl,” he praises, before giving you what you crave.

Connecting his mouth to your core, his skilled tongue has you keening, head falling back against the car hood as he licks a broad, firm stroke from your entrance to your clit. His lips close around you, his tongue flicking and swirling as he loses himself in the taste of you, his hands spreading your thighs even wider to hold you firmly in place.

He slurps and devours you, humming into your hole in pure lust. Jaeyun loves nothing more than being buried in pussy, he could spend the rest of his life between thighs, your thighs. The added tints of cola still lingering on your skin only heighten his arousal, the sweet tang mixture enough for him to dig his nails into your thighs and bury further in.

Arching your back, your thighs fight his grip as they try and clamp around his head, the way his tongue dips into your hole, rimming it with teasing strokes before shooting back in makes your head dizzy, the November air suddenly feeling like a July breeze - welcomed and just right.

“Fuck,” you hiss out as he bites at your folds, dragging the sensitive flesh between his teeth, another way of tormenting you yet giving you everything you could want. His bottom teeth drag up to your clit with his puffy bottom lip trailing behind it like a soothing balm. 

You’re starting to wonder whether it’s his birthday or yours.

With precision, Jaeyun latches onto your clit and suddenly, you’re seeing more stars in the sky, body lurching forward as you trap him there. The tension coils tightly in your stomach, and he takes his time, alternating between sucking and licking, bringing you right to the edge and pulling back just before you can tip over, savouring every second of your mounting need.

“Jaeyun, please…” you gasp, fingers threading through his hair, and he hums against you, sending a shudder through your entire body. 

“See? You can beg so easily,” he mocks playfully, smirking as your thighs act as earmuffs. Despite the barricade, he can still hear every plea and mewl that falls from your lips, indicating that you’re close.

So, he picks up the pace, his hands gripping under your ass to push you further into his face. His round nose nuzzles your nub as his tongue swirls around inside your cunt, the tip of his tongue committing every bump and nook to memory - not like he hasn’t already. He knows everything about you, that’s what happens when you spend seven months doting on and worshipping the same person.

Grabbing tightly onto his hair, you feel the knot in your stomach begin to pull apart, the threads of rope straining as your climax tugs. “I’m cumming…fuck, Jaeyun,” you warn, but it’s not breaking news to the man causing the euphoria. He’s licking, sucking, and biting with ferocity because he knows you’re falling apart

He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your body, his tongue flicking over you with such skill it has you trembling. “Come on, Princess. Let go for me,” he whispers, his words like a command, and your body is happy to obey.

And then, it hits you - the release crashing through you, sending shudders of pleasure through every nerve in your body. You can’t stop it, your back arching as you clutch at his hair, your thighs trembling as the wave washes over you, and Jaeyun doesn’t stop. He keeps going, worshipping you like he’s addicted to your taste, drawing out every last drop of your orgasm.

Your chest heaves and your body goes limp as he cleans your pussy, making sure he takes every drop of his birthday gift. You taste heavenly, your cum swirling in his mouth as he slurps and sucks, the shocks jolting up your spine each time he nudges over your clit.

Once your legs release his head, he glances up at you through his thick lashes, mouth covered in your essence. “Thank you, baby,” he praises, his chest filled with a cocktail of emotions, the first as foremost one being adoration. “With 10 minutes to spare too,” he laughs, glancing at his watch.

Jaeyun stands up, kissing you with passion. He transfers your juices onto your mouth and you groan at the taste. All those days of downing pineapple and cranberry juice always pay off. His tongue licks yours, taking over your entire mouth as he claims you. His lips are sweet but his touch is anything but, you know he’s desperate, if his actions weren’t enough, the painful bulge that’s bucking into your sensitive folds is enough to tell you.

Swiftly, your hands move to his buckle, undoing it amongst the breathtaking kisses. It doesn’t take you more than a minute to undo his jeans and push them just low enough that his ass is on full display and his hard shaft can spring free. His cock is so pretty, like a work of art; six inches of pure joy. You’ve lost count of how many times this cock has made you come undone, the curve of it hitting perfectly into your cunt, like it was made for you. In some ways, you think it is.

Spreading your legs once again, you wrap your hand around his cock, the heat from it a stark contrast to your still cold hands. The sensation elicits a hiss from the birthday boy, his lips pulling from yours as he looks down. Your hand just fits around his length, and that makes his tip twitch. He’s proud of his size, but somehow he loves it even more when in the clasp of your fingers.

You press it against your wet core and he loses any sense of control he had left.

With a primal growl, he grabs your hips and lines up at your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. Between your outfit, the rush of the race, your cries of pleasure from his tongue work, and the overwhelming tightness in his heart, he needs to be inside you. Now.

Jaeyun slides in fully with one thrust, both of you creating a beautiful harmony of moans that echo like a choir in the night. His cock fills you up to the brim, his balls sitting comfortably against your ass. You feel like fucking heaven, in fact, if he was to die right now, he would do so happily. Those pearl gates could only mirror the happiness and alleviation that he feels as he buried himself to the hilt inside your warm hole.

His forehead rests on your shoulder, his lips peppering a succession of kisses just above your collarbone as he begins to move his hips, eyes rolling to the back of his head with each bump of your walls hugging him.

“Jesus fucking christ, Princess,” he mumbles, officially lost in the act of pleasure. He’s not thinking about anything else, just how your wet heat feels enveloping him.

You can’t say your thoughts aren’t also only consumed by the tip of his cock poking your cervix so deliciously, his balls slapping against you almost mimicking a spank each time. His thrusts pick up pace and you both lose yourselves in one another, chanting praises and curses to convey your feelings.

Jaeyun’s hands roam over your body as his cock pounds into you, switching from holding your hips in place to kneading your breasts, each one serving their own purpose. He wants you still so he can keep hitting that perfect spot over and over again, the squishy spec in your cunt his main target, but your tits bouncing in the moonlight keep distracting him, his cock losing power as his brain gets clouded in the movements.

“You’re so beautiful, Princess,” he confesses, kissing the valley between your breasts. “So, so beautiful.”

Your heart hammers harder, the pulse resounding in your ear as you smile gratefully. “So are you, Jaeyun.” And you mean it. He’s the most beautiful person inside and out, you’re never going to meet anyone like him again, and that’s what terrifies you.

Jaeyun locks his eyes on yours, his hips finding a new determined rhythm. He presses his forehead against yours, nuzzling his nose with yours in a kiss. How is it possible to feel so adored and cherished by a man you have no label with? That’s the question running through your mind as you stare into his soul, begging for him to answer.

And in some way, he does. His pupils shine with nothing but your reflection, showing just how deeply you're ingrained in him. Though neither of you may voice exactly what this is, you both know it.

As you lose yourselves in each other, that familiar coil tightens low in your belly, heat pooling with a desperate need for release. You dig your nails into Jaeyun's shoulders and bury your face in his neck, signalling you're close.

Gripping your waist, he matches your rhythm, pushing you both to the edge—metaphorically this time, thankfully. He's already brought you close enough to danger tonight; there’s no need to test fate again.

"Come on, baby. Cum for me," he urges, jaw clenched as he holds back his own release. He’s never been one to finish before his girl.

With his coaxing and the delicious sensation of him deep inside, you reach your climax once more, this time more intense than you expected. You bite down on his neck to muffle your moans, and like a domino, he spills into you. 

His white ropes soothe your cunt, painting your walls with his adoration of you. The best decision you ever made was getting an IUD. You know it’s not full protection, but for the feeling of his seed filling you up like a cream piping bag, you’re willing to take the risk.

Jaeyun holds you close, his breath mingling with yours as both of you come down from the high, eyes blazing secret confessions into one another. The steady thud of his heart under your palm feels grounding, almost comforting in the quiet aftermath. You shift slightly, feeling his warmth begin to fade in the cool night air, yet he doesn’t let you go just yet, keeping you wrapped up in him.

“Happy birthday,” you whisper softly, letting your lips brush against his jaw, a faint smile tugging at your mouth. 

Mirroring your expression, he melts into your pepper kisses as you trail down his neck, paying extra attention to the skin you marked up with your canines. His large hands glide up your back and hold you close to him. “Thank you.” It’s simple, but he’s biting his tongue, the moment too perfect to destroy with his post-nut brain.

You sense his apprehension and lean back, gazing into his eyes and studying the specs of his brain that you can make out. “You okay? You’re usually cracking out a joke by now,” you ask playfully, but there’s an undercurrent of concern in your tone.

Jaeyun bites his lips together, preparing himself to possibly make the biggest mistake of his life. He pulls out of you, jerking his cock clean enough that he can get away with it, before tucking it back into his trousers. 

Oh no.

Your mind does everything to convince you that this isn’t going to end the way you think it will. The efforts to soothe your racing mind falter just at the finish line. This is it. He’s going to hit you with the ‘this has been fun but it’s not what I want anymore’ or ‘hey, so this was great but you’re not what i’m looking for’. Whatever concoction of those sentences he wants to spin, you know it’s going to hurt. You’re in too deep.

And you would much rather be humiliated with your clothes on. So you jump off the hood of the car, your slick glistening in the night lights like a snail trail. Suddenly, the acts you just took part in have turned from euphoric to sickly.

“Listen-”

“I meant it,” he interrupts, not even letting you end this before he can. “I really mean it when I say you’re the only girl for me.”

You’re waiting on the but, yet it never comes. Instead, he’s biting his lip nervously, looking at you but not into your eyes, his focus on your forehead like a sniper in the woods. And you feel like you’ve been shot, just not in the hurtful way you were expecting, it’s almost like you’re on the receiving end of a blank and the shock is ringing in your ears more than anything.

You stand dumbfounded, zipping up your dress at the back. “Huh?” It’s stupid and not what you want to ask, but your flabber has been gasted.

Jaeyun groans and rubs over his face. “I don’t want anyone else. And I know you’re annoyingly loyal to Yeonjun, but I can’t pretend that this isn’t more than what it is.” He steps forward and cups your flushed face, the cold now settling upon it once again. “I. Love. You. I have for fucking months, and…I don’t know, I can’t keep pretending I don’t.”

I. Love. You.

It’s such a simple and common phrase, yet hearing it in his accent, from his mouth, directed at you, you find it foreign. 

Jaeyun hates the silence that follows, the horns from the cars down below act like a mocking laugh to the moment. He knows its risky, confessing his feelings so bluntly, but if he had to keep them in any longer then he might have buried them forever and harboured an even deeper resentment towards himself and your brother.

“You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, I get that. But can we call a spade a spade and admit that we love each other?” He insists, now finding his confidence. Go big or go home, he supposes. He’s convinced you love him too, you look at him the way he does you, and even if it’s only a tiny speckle of love that you hold for him, he needs you to admit it. For his sanity, and yours.

You can’t process a single thought beyond his words, their weight pressing down on you, making it impossible to breathe for a second. The world falls quiet around you, the buzzing city and distant hum of traffic fading as your mind hones in on his face, the intensity of his gaze, the subtle quiver of his lip as he waits.

“Jaeyun,” you manage, though it barely comes out above a whisper, “This isn’t…this isn’t exactly what we agreed on.” Stupid. Why the fuck are you saying that NOW.

“I know, but I also know you feel it too.” His thumb moves tenderly across your cheek, brushing over the spot where a tear might fall if you let it. “And if there’s even the slightest chance that you feel what I feel, I just need to know.” He pauses, his voice softening as he meets your gaze fully. “Because you’re it for me. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to be with you completely. You deserve to be loved, and although I might not deserve to be the one to give you that, I want to try.”

You want to look away, to retreat and give yourself a chance to think, but his eyes are pleading with you to stay present, to face this. And the truth is, in some corner of your heart that you've tried to ignore, you know what he's saying is true.

But Yeonjun…If he finds out, he’ll never forgive you. It’s one thing to be in a fun fling with his rival, it’s another to be completely and utterly head over heels for the boy.

The silence is thick, but there’s an odd comfort in it. You reach up, covering his hand with yours, grounding yourself in his warmth. “I don’t want to lose you,” you murmur, voice trembling. “And I…I don’t know how we’d make it work without hurting Yeonjun.”

Jaeyun’s grip tightens, his confidence anchoring you. “I’ll make it work. I’ll do everything to make sure he accepts it. I’ll step down as the Lucifer’s leader, I’ll get on my knees and beg, baby I will do whatever it takes to get him on our side. I don’t want to come between you both, I know how precious he is to you, and you to him,” he pauses, breathing out and collecting his thoughts before he goes on a desperate faffing rant, his point losing focus. “I love you, and that means loving every part of you.”

“In the car…” you begin, voice unsure, “You said something about how Yeonjun would become your family, you meant-”

“Yeah, listen. Don’t freak out about that. I was jumping the gun with that one…but I mean, is it so unplausible? For us to be together? To imagine a future with you?”

“There’s a big difference between jumping into dating and leaping into marriage, Jaeyun.”

“Okay? So we’ll hold back on the leaping for now,” he laughs, pressing his forehead to yours, “but tell me you’ll jump.”

His breath mingles with yours, warm and steadying, grounding you in a way that makes your hesitation falter. "Jaeyun," you begin, your voice so soft it barely carries the weight of what you’re feeling. "It’s terrifying to even think about, you know that, right? Yeonjun is…he's been there my whole life, my protector, my brother…you’re asking me to risk that.”

"I know." He cups your face, his thumb tracing slow, tender circles along your cheek, calming and reassuring. "And I wouldn't ask you if I didn’t believe with every part of me that we’re worth it. But I’m not going anywhere until you’re ready; whether that’s now, or tomorrow, or a hundred years from now. I’m in this, Y/N. All the way. I just need you to say yes."

Your lips part, the words catching in your throat, suspended between the comfort of safety and the thrill of the unknown. Slowly, you reach out and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Alright," you say, a tremor of nerves mingling with the glint of determination in your eyes. "I’ll jump…but you’d better catch me, Jaeyun."

A grin breaks across his face, and for a moment, everything else fades away; the rivalry, the fear, even Yeonjun. It’s just you and him, exactly how it should have been from the beginning.

"Always," he whispers, voice filled with quiet conviction. Then he closes the distance between you, sealing your promise with a kiss that’s soft, lingering, and brimming with all the words neither of you dared to speak out loud.

But maybe it’s time you do

“I love you too, Jaeyun,” you confess, eyes boring into his heart.

His eyes widen for a split second, and you see the disbelief flicker across his face, not quite sure he heard you right. But then his gaze softens, and a smile breaks across his face, one so genuine and unguarded that it sends warmth flooding through you. His hand tightens around yours, squeezing his happiness into your veins and bones.

"You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that," he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your knuckles with a tenderness that leaves your heart aching. “I fucking love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He chants, kissing all over your face, causing you to scrunch up and laugh, attempting to push him away but failing - not that you’re going to complain about that.

There’s a sense of relief, a lightness you haven’t felt in so long, as if all the weight of secrecy and uncertainty has lifted. For once, you’re not worrying about the consequences, about what could go wrong or who might get hurt. Right now, it’s just you and him, and the truth laid bare between you.

“Yes, okay, we love each other! Enough!” you giggle between his million and one kisses.

His hand comes up to cradle your cheek, his fingers grazing your skin with reverence. “I’m never letting you go now, you realise that, don’t you?”

You nod, a smile creeping across your face, and pull him in for another kiss, this one filled with the promise of everything that lies ahead. “Oh I know. Just wait till I tell your crew,” you laugh, pushing him away. “‘Oh, Y/N, I love you sooooo much. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me-'”

Your imitation is cut short, his hand flying over your mouth as he suppresses a laugh, trying to portray fear that isn’t truly there. “C’mon! You can’t ruin my reputation like that,” he whines, giving you that signature pout. 

“Oh but I will-” Without warning, he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder as he carried you to the backseat. “Jaeyun! Put me down!”

“I’m going to fuck every word and thought out of that pretty brain of yours so you never utter my soft side to a soul,” he playfully jabs, opening the backseat and tossing you inside.

“Well…I have a lot of thoughts…and words,” you reply, biting your lip as you settle across the seats, legs already accommodating for him.

“Then it’s gonna be a long night. I suppose I’ll need to turn my clock back some more, don’t you think?”

____

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21

@diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee

@haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii

@notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08

@emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove

@heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun

@ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee

@xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @iluvikeu @deobitifull

@yawnazzz @st1llm0nster @woorcve @heeseungsbm

@star-hoon @heelee-01 @wonnienyang @alternativelix

@ikeuverse @dollyyun

[thelov3lybookworm]

Cookies

Day 4: Paid time off.

Summary: Was it worth the pain?

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 844

Warnings: fluff, glass breaking and kis being terrified :(

A/n: nothing to say except i love hazel, az and kaden🥹😭

@azrielappreciationweek

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

At any given moment, Azriel would say he loved the sound of his mate’s giggles. When she laughed, she made Azriel laugh. Not because she was laughing at something funny. She made him laugh just because. He laughed because he knew his wife was happy, and that made him happy. He felt content.

But not now.

Not as she giggled away at his misery while he stood behind the three little devils in his kitchen, cursing his own mind for coming up with this idea to spend his paid time off.

Rhys had always tried to get him to take some rest, going on and on about how working all the time was not good for Azriel’s health. His efforts had doubled since Y/n and Azriel got married, and with Y/n supporting Rhysand, Azriel occasionally agreed to take some holidays.

It had already been a week since Hazel had proclaimed that Azriel was her best friend, and since then Y/n had been telling him he needed to get a day off.

Azril had agreed at once, deciding a day with his lovely daughter and nephew would be amazing. It would be great for everyone. Rhysand and Feyre would have some time alone, Hazel would get to play with her friend and Azriel would be spending the day with people that mattered the most to him.

He had not accounted for Hazel inviting Kaden to the play date too.

Azriel had been disappointed when he found Kaden in his living room when he came down just after waking up, Nyx and Hazel giggling along with the boy.

Y/n had glared at him when she found him frowning at the oblivious child.

It was after lunch now as all five of them stood in the kitchen, the kids gathered around the big bowl of cookie batter, giggling to each other as they tried to sneakily add more chocolate chips.

Y/n laughed again, grabbing Azriel’s jaw and pulling him close to plant a quick kiss to his lips.

"He’s a kid, Az. Let him breathe."

Az grumbled, turning away. "Remind me of that when he inevitably grows up and tries to take your daughter."

Before Y/n could answer, the sound of Hazel’s whine reached the two.

"Nyxie, I want to hold the bowl!"

Azriel’s spymaster instincts kicked in when he saw Hazel yank the bowl from Nyx, her grip too small to hold onto the large bowl. No matter how quick Azriel was, his fingers only grazed the bowl’s sides before it crashed against the ground, shattering into pieces.

Just as it did, Hazel began sobbing, and Azriel stood there, torn between comforting his baby and cleaning up the mess.

To his surprise, Kaden grabbed Hazel’s hand and dragged her back and away from the glass, telling her to stay put when she tried to walk close to Azriel.

"You will get hurt, Hazel!" Kaden whispered loudly, hugging her.

"I want daddy." She whimpered, wiping her face on her sleeve.

Azriel glanced at Y/n who was sweeping away the glass shards, raising a brow at him. Azriel huffed, watching as his shadows cleaned up along with his wife.

"Kids, come on. Let’s make cookies again." Azriel called, bringing out another bowl just as the shadows finished cleaning, trying to stop them all from crying.

Hazel hurried over to his side, clinging to his legs while Nyx hugged Y/n. Azriel looked to Kaden who stood in the corner, eyes wide and filled with tears. It was very clear he was shaken himself, and unlike the other two kids, he did not have his parents to comfort him.

He was scared, yet he got Hazel away from harm’s way.

Grudgingly, Azriel kneeled, eyes locked on Kaden. When Kaden realised Azriel was looking at him, he sniffled and met his eyes. It was very clear that despite the amount of times Azriel had met the kid, he was still terrified of him.

Quietly, he extended his hand towards the trembling boy, beckoning him closer. Kaden seemed unsure as he walked to Azriel, but could Azriel really blame him when he had taken every chance to silently terrorize the child?

Azriel rubbed Kaden’s back as he sniffled, clearly scared by the loud breaking of the glass.

This paid time off was going very differently than what Azriel had hoped it would go like.

"Alright, let’s get to making these cookies now. They won’t make themselves."

The kids giggled in response, wiping their tears and getting back on the stools they had been standing on. Azriel ignored Y/n’s gaze, knowing she would only give him the smug look she loved to shoot him all the time.

Y/n still pranced close to drop a kiss to Azriel’s cheek before declaring she was going to go feed Nuts.

"Daddy, hurry up, I’m hungry."

Azriel sighed, shaking his head.

Maybe he didn’t need more paid days off than necessary.

He sure loved them, but he wasn’t sure if they were worth breaking his back over.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @secret-third-thing

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

@lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @garden-of-runar @girlswithimagination

@sunnyspycat @artists-ally @milswrites @kingdomofstarrynights

@berryzxx @buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming @yucanbmylxdy

@mellowmusings

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

@stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh

@st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium

@fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139 @angel-graces-world-of-chaos

@okaytrashpanda

[nightmareonpeachstreet]

Auto-combat games with 15 different microquests that repeat over and over again for the rest of time making the game a never ending tutorial my beloathed

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ speak of the devil

synopsis. satoru and his father don’t quite get along—you don’t think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesn’t seem to care at all

FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDN’T FUCK YOU SERIES

length. 3.4k words (why did it take all day sobs)

contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, college au, rich boy! gojo, as always it’s shameless satoru, you sit on satoru’s lap, brief fingering, dry humping, desk sex <3, clothed sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, perfect girl)

notes. to everyone who kept asking when i was gonna update this series: here it is. now don’t ask again <3

the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time he’s nowhere to be found—it takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, he’s in his father’s office—the only room you’ve never been in yet.

“hey,” you murmur, “been looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.”

“baby!” he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. “you came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think i’m hot too, right? and funny? and smart? and—”

“i’m leaving,” you tease, rolling your eyes. and then you notice the papers in front of him, peeking over his shoulder as you read over them. you understand nothing. “what’s this?”

“paperwork,” he grumbles, “old man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if i’m gonna take over someday. what a geezer.”

you snort—satoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldn’t encourage his comments, but….well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.

“my poor businessman,” you say sympathetically, smoothing back hair from his forehead as you cup his face. he pouts, leaning into your touch as you rub over the swell of his cheek with your thumb. “you deserve a break.”

“i know,” he whines, “i’ve been doing these for like an hour. i could’ve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.”

“satoru!” you gasp, pressing a hand over his lips as you eye the door and listen for any signs of anyone nearby. you turn to him and hiss, “you have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.”

“not like they’ve never heard us before,” he shrugs.

well, that’s satoru for you—as shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but he’s not even got the tact to at least seem embarrassed. not even slightly ashamed. you scoff, shaking your head as he grins up at you cheekily.

“you’re a real case, you know that?” you say in disbelief, “i think the only surface you haven’t fucked me on is your parent’s bed. and that’s only because you love your mom enough not to do that.”

“if it was just the old man’s, i’d have fucked you on that too,” he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, “actually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. it’s like a bucket list.”

“satoru, you’re sick in the head.”

“the showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of course—oh, the game room too. and we can’t forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it all—wait.”

he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. “what?”

“we didn’t get this room.”

oh god. he’s absolutely ridiculous—and not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldn’t disapprove of you any more than he already does. the last thing you both need is for him to walk in on his son fucking the girl he probably wants to hire a hitman to assassinate.

“oh my god,” you say exasperatedly, “toru, have you not one ounce of shame? you can’t possibly think—”

“why didn’t i think of this sooner?” he wonders out loud—and oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one that’s locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isn’t going to let this go. the weak part of you is probably going to have a hard time fighting him.

the unwise part of both of you will probably get you both into a whole lot of trouble.

“because it’s a bad idea. you’re a smart guy, toru,” you try to butter him up—it doesn’t seem to do much, though. “the smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so let’s just drop it—”

“i should’ve done this way sooner,” he chuckles, looking at you in awe, “bend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossil’s papers.”

his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.

“no, absolutely not—”

“can you imagine? he’s signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? he’d be so mad if he knew,” satoru cackles.

god—this should not be as appealing as it sounds. you try to throw on your best stern look, but satoru is as smart as he is sly. he can see the way you shift on your feet as he smirks up at you, and he’s already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.

it’s the same look he has when he decides he’s hungry—for you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like you’re his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants you—and he’ll stop at nothing to have you.

and….well, you’ve never been good at saying no to satoru. it’s your fatal flaw.

“satoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dad—who hates that we’re dating, by the way—any more angry with us than he already is—”

“sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, “you worry too much, y’know that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you don’t overthink in that pretty little head you have.”

you glare at him, but he’s already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. he’s already hard from what you can feel—the bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss. 

“satoru—”

“save the part where you say my name for later. i haven’t even done anything yet,” he winks—and then he’s kissing you. he’s clever, you think, because kissing you is the fastest way to get you to melt against him, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls you closer. 

so close, in fact, that you can feel his cock practically twitch in his pants as you shift on top of him, dragging your clothed cunt over his aching bulge.

“this is such a bad idea, toru,” you whisper in between kisses—but not one part of you fights his touch or even attempts to pull away. he hums, pressing wet kisses along your jaw as his hands dig into your hips, moving you to grind along his hardened length. 

“yeah? you sure? let’s check, shall we?” he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your folds—wet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when you’re with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, “sorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.”

“toru,” you gasp as he toys with your clit, rubbing slow enough circles that you whine and roll your hips, trying to get more. but satoru is a brat—always has been, right from the day he was born. he pulls his fingers away and looks at you smugly as he kisses your curled lips while you frown at him.

“want more, don’t ya?” he asks—he’s too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but you’re aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod. 

“just hurry up,” you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cock—it’s throbbing in his pants, confined under the fabric and needy for the tightness of your walls. you gasp when he rubs against your clit, and he groans, guiding your movements with a tight grip on your hips. 

“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, “c-could cum jus’ like this. see what you do to me?”

“‘s not me,” you tilt your head as he nips at your neck, hand trailing to cup the back of his head and keep him in place as he nibbles at the skin and pecks along the marks he leaves, “this is all your fault.”

“all my fault, huh?” he chuckles, “you make it sound like this is a bad thing.”

his hips buck up, rolling against yours and building the friction up until your both panting messes, his lips against yours as you drink in each other’s moans—your clit rubs along his length with every stutter of your hips, and his tip leaks with more pre cum every time you press harder against his cock. it’s desperate—the way he chokes on your name and the way you cling around his neck. it feels good, and the way this is all so wrong only makes it feel better. 

“‘m close, toru,” you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.

“good,” he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, “cum for me, sweetheart. right here—right on this chair,” he says lowly. 

so you do—head falling back with a sharp gasp and your nails digging into his shoulder as you come undone with a loud whine. the gojo estate is big—very big. you’re sure your voice isn’t carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you can’t help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby. 

satoru doesn’t like that, though—his hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. “no, baby,” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, “make sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?”

“yes,” you whimper, “yes, feels so good—need more, toru. please,” you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes. 

“here?” he mocks, raising a brow, “you want me to fuck you right here? in my father’s office? where he does his work? right on his desk?”

“yes, here,” you sob, “right here—please. want you so bad. need it.”

“see?” he laughs, “now you’re getting it—not so much of a bad idea, is it?”

that’s the thing about satoru—he’s too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and he’s determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enough—it’s more. always more, more, more. it’s like all rich people, you suppose. 

they just always want more.

there’s a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoru’s father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like you’re an eyesore, and he’s certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not more…but you’re only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isn’t enough, and…well, you think it’s just karma. 

the way the world works. 

the way you and satoru work. 

so you grin, huff out a little snort before pulling him into a kiss and reaching to free his hard, leaky cock from its confinements. he whines a little into your mouth as you smear the arousal coating his tip along his length, stroking down and squeezing at the base. 

“okay,” you whisper against his lips, “fuck me toru. right here—right on his desk.”

that, evidently, is all it takes—one second you’re comfortably sitting on his legs, pants soaked with his bulge pressed against your core, and the next second you hear his hand swipe papers off the surface to fall to the floor as your back is pressed against the cool wood. he doesn’t even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that it’s enough. satoru has always been impatient too—doesn’t like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants. 

you can feel him close, hovering over you. he’s warm—where his cock presses against your thigh, where his breath fans over your lips, where his hands grab your wrists and pin them over your head. he’s warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.

“anything you want, you get, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, “can’t say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your folds—they’re wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before he’s slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. “can never get used to this,” he breathes, “never get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.”

“toru, t-toru—oh,” you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. it’s nothing new, but it’s never something you’re prepared for all the same. how thick he is, how perfectly he hits that spot in the back of your walls, how full he makes you feel. it makes your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, closer, deeper. “more, toru—move, please.”

“nuh uh,” he drawls, kissing your cheeks, “first you gotta tell me how much you love me.”

“satoru,” you hiss in disbelief, “are you kidding—”

“c’mon, say it,” he giggles, “love you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. you’re the best boyfriend ever and i’ll die without your cock—”

“i love you toru,” you smile sweetly, “you know what i love more, though? when you’re too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.”

that makes him shudder—makes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. he’s aching—hot and swollen in your dripping cunt, balls heavy with cum that he needs to empty into your pussy because it was made to take him. every inch of him.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes out shakily, “know that? gonna kill me one of these days.”

“good,” you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, “now move, baby. wanna feel you.” 

he does—pulls his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only satoru knows how. only he knows you this well, only he knows your body so well. he knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear. 

“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”

“so full,” you gasp, clawing at his shoulders, pulling at his hair, pulling him closer and closer and closer until not even air can fill the space between you. “feel so good, toru—fuck.”

“look at you,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “‘s a shame you can’t see what i see. then you’d know why i can’t keep my hands off’a you—’s impossible.”

you can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown back against the table. there’s slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. you can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him. 

“love you, toru,” you mewl—you can’t help but say it, can’t help but remind him when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. and if his rotten, greedy, stuck-up father with a receding hairline can’t see that you love satoru, maybe you’ll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind. 

“love you too,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, keeping him right there, keeping him close against you like he should never be anywhere else, “love my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?”

you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his name—he looks down at you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of toru!, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face. 

his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always do. so he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you cling to him tighter as you cry out another sweet string of toru, toru—more!

“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? ‘m close—gonna fill you up. want that, don’t you?”

“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “yeah i wan’ you to fill me up, toru—gonna cum. ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”

you know he is too, the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. you push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.

“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. it’s hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “g-good—’s so good, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly, face digging deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tremble over you.

the wood is hard against you, makes your back ache slightly—but it’s not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you can’t think of anything else but the way he fucks you both through your highs until your legs are begging to press shut from the oversensitivity. 

it’s silent for a bit once you’ve finished—save for the harsh, labored panting as you both calm down and catch your breaths. satoru is still buried with his nose pressed against your neck, your hand rubbing over his back slowly.

“your maids must hate us,” you mumble, “and if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.”

“she’s probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,” he snorts, “we’ll be fine.”

“well, we should clean up and leave before your dad—”

“oh look, speak of the devil. he’s just in time,” satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, “think we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave ‘em to make him mad.”

“you’re crazy,” you say in disbelief. and then— “i think we should leave them there. make them his problem.”

you think you’ve just watched satoru fall in love with you all over again at that.

i hate this fic but hopefully i come back one week later and reread it and think wow i ate w this. sometimes i do that. but if i don’t: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach

[junezsq]

cigarettes

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you hate the way cigarettes taste and when he finds out he decides that maybe it’s time to quit

established relationship

warnings: alcohol, (underage) drinking, partying, smoking, a few swear words, make out scenes

word count: 3.6k

a/n: someone get me somebody like steve ugh!!!! the way I feel like he'd do anything for the people he loves :')

── ᵎᵎ ✦

by the time you’d filled up the kitchen counter with all the different types of liquor you could find it felt like you had run half a marathon. to be completely honest, you were still in shock about how one household could own this much alcohol in the first place.

the sound of footsteps echoed throughout the hallway towards the kitchen and when you glanced sideways you smiled at your boyfriend walking towards you. “hey,” you pushed yourself off the counter and motioned your hands at the kitchen island, proud of the set up you’d made, “tadaa! what do you think?.”

he chuckled, “you didn’t have to.” he looked over the full counter before looking back at you, taking a few steps closer so he was able to place his hands on your waist, “it looks great, sweets.”

you shrugged, “i wanted to help.” you smiled, moving your hands along his chest and up to his shoulders. your eyes flickered up to his hair, which he had carefully styled in the time you’d been setting up the kitchen. the devil on your shoulder told you it’d be fun to run your hands through it and mess it up a bit. you didn’t want to force him to undergo the entire styling process again though, which would result into him missing the start of the party he was organizing, “it was a lot though, is it all yours?”

steve glanced over at all the bottles you’d picked, “it’s my dad’s.” he looked back at you, raising his hand to carefully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. you raised your brows, “and he lets you use it? i bet my dad would kill me if i drank even the tiniest bit of his precious liquor.”

“i don’t know.” he moved his hand back to your waist, “he’s never home long enough to check.”

your gaze softened as you softly squeezed his shoulders in comfort. you knew how difficult it had been, and still was, for steve; not having his parents home for majority of his life. “luckily, you now have me to irritate you.” you tried to lighten the mood, successfully, because he let out a soft chuckle and dipped his head to sweetly place his lips on yours.

you let yourself melt into the kiss for a short moment before pulling back, leaning your forehead against his, "on that note," you bit your bottom lip, slightly smirking as you leaned backwards so you could look at him again, "could i stay the night?"

steve smiled at your request, "you know you don't have to ask that, sweets." he softly squeezed your hips, placing a quick peck on your lips. "but if you do, you have to help me clean up."

you giggled, moving to stand on your toes and reconnect your lips with his. you felt him smile through the kiss and you slightly tightened your grip on his shoulders when he pulled you closer against him.

the sound of the doorbell ringing throughout the house interrupted your moment and a laugh escaped your throat at steve throwing his head back in annoyance. you softly patted his chest, "i'll open the door."

steve watched as you walked off around the corner and towards the front door. god the things you did to him. there was never a moment he looked at you and didn't want to smother you with kisses. he was sure he could kiss you all day, everyday, and never get tired of it. he shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips as he turned to the kitchen island, grabbing two red cups to fill them up with a drink he knew you liked.

the first to enter were some you recognised as steve's friends and a couple of your classmates. you decided to keep the door unlocked so no one had to worry about constantly hearing the obnoxious sound of the doorbell.

while you made your way back to the kitchen you widened your eyes, surprised by the amount of people that had arrived in the span of a few minutes. you muttered a couple sorry’s as you squished yourself through the crowd and a breath of relief left your lips when you’d finally reached the kitchen.

your eyes fell on steve, who was talking to someone you vaguely recognized as someone from your school year. you dusted off your hands on your jeans as you stepped closer to them, “hey.” you breathed out, and at the sound of your voice the two immediately turned their heads to look at you. you glanced down and caught sight of the two cups in steve’s hands. “what’cha got there?”

steve followed your line of sight, “right.” he glanced at the guy next to him, telling him he’d find him later that night to continue whatever conversation they were having, “here you go, gorgeous.” he turned to you and handed you the fullest cup, clearly already having drunk from the other one.

you thanked him as you took the cup from his hand, a small smile playing on your lips, “you didn’t have to cut off your conversation with …?”

he chuckled, leaning back against the counter, “joshua.”

“right,” you nodded before taking a sip of your drink.

“it’s fine, we still have the entire night to finish that.” steve kept his smile playing on his lips as he took your free hand in his, pulling you closer to him, “and i needed to give you your favorite drink.”

you playfully rolled your eyes at his words, “you’re such a cliché, harrington.”

“don’t act like you don’t love it.”

“hmm.” you stilted your head, trying to appear as if you were in thought, “maybe.”

steve smirked at you, softly squeezing your hand as he pulled you even closer against him. he immediately smashed his lips on yours and you returned his smirk through the kiss. you tried your best not to spill the drink you were still holding in one hand as you untangled your other from his, moving it to the back of his neck.

his tongue swept over your bottom lip, as if to ask for permission and so you moved your hand up to slightly tug on his hair in answer. he groaned softly at the gesture and tightened his grip on your waist, slowly starting to loose himself into the kiss. he couldn't get enough of it. of you.

"yo, harrington! stop sucking the life out of your girlfriend!"

a voice called throughout the kitchen and you giggled as you pulled away from steve. your hand was still tangled up in his hair when you glanced to the backdoor in which eddie was leaning against the doorpost. you playfully rolled your eyes and looked back at steve starting to carefully fix his hair.

"you're just saying that because you're still bitchless, munson." steve shot back, removing his hand from your waist only to immediately wrap his other arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. you instinctively wrapped your arm around his middle.

"whatever." eddie scoffed, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, "you comin' outside?"

steve's gaze landed on you, his eyes searching your features for a hint of your thoughts. you smiled at him, "go! i'll try and find robin or nancy."

"are you sure?" steve's eyes were focused on yours and you gave him another reassuring smile, "yeah!" you detached yourself from him and softly pushed him towards the backdoor, "go!"

"alright, alright," steve chuckled, leaning closer to you again to place a quick kiss on your lips, "don't let anyone get close to your drink."

you giggled at his protectiveness, knowing he would stay by your side the entire evening if you asked him to, "i won't, now go! eddie's waiting." his hand found your cheek as he leaned in for another soft kiss. you smiled against his lips while slightly pulling him closer by his collar.

“harrington!”

eddie’s call-out made him draw back with a stupid grin playing on his lips, “see you later, yeah?”

you nodded, letting go off his collar to softly pat his chest, “see ya.” your own smile didn’t recede as you watched him stalk off towards eddie and out the back door. a soft breath escaped your lips before you quickly downed your drink. time to mingle.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:

the chatter and music died down as you stumbled through the hallway, trying to make your way towards the bathroom. at the sound of a door closing you glanced backwards, but the quick movement caused you to loose your balance. before you could fall face first to the ground though, a pair of strong hands found your waist.

“shit, sorry.” you grumbled, automatically grabbing their arm to straighten yourself. when you found the mystery person’s face you immediately widened your eyes in surprise, “steve!”

it was obvious you’d had a drink too many; the strap of your top had fallen of your shoulder and your hair was completely disheveled. steve chuckled at your excitement and let go of your waist to carefully readjust the strap and place some hair strands that were stuck against your lipgloss behind your ears, “what’s up, sweets?”

you shrugged, “nothing much.” steve’s hand found it’s way to your upper arm, causing your insides to warm up at his touch. you slightly raised your brows when you remembered something, “i found robin!”

“you did?” steve let his thumb rub small circles on your skin.

you nodded eagerly, “yeah! only a moment after you went outside, she walked into the kitchen. she made me a drink, actually!” you started rambling, “it was really good! not as good as the one you made me, but maybe, like, a close second!”

“a close second, huh?”

you hummed in response, “and then we talked for a while, i don’t remember about what, though.” you lightly tilted your head in thought, but gave up quickly, “doesn’t matter, because then we went dancing for a bit, and after that she made me another one of those drinks. that one wasn’t as good as the first one she made me, though.”

“that’s too bad.” steve’s eyes went over your features while he listened carefully, “and then … you ended up here?”

“yeah,” you smiled at your boyfriend, “i was on my way to the bathroom, but now that i think about it, i don’t really have to pee.” you shrugged and steve let out a soft chuckle.

you slightly tilted your head, placing your pointer finger against his chest, “what have you been up to, handsome?”

an amused grin was playing on steve’s lips and you swore you could see small sparkles glowing in his eyes as he looked at you, “well, while robin was playing your personal bartender, i was outside with eddie and a few other guys from our year…”

you tried your utmost best to focus on whatever steve was telling you, but for some reason all you could look at, and think of, were his lips. they were just too pretty to not look at. you swallowed, flattening your hand against his chest as your mind started wandering to what his way too perfect lips could do. what they’d done to you already.

“are you listening?”

his voice pulled you out off your trance and your eyes flickered up to his, “huh?”

he raised his brows teasingly, “what are you thinking off?”

you let out a soft breath, “sorry, it’s just … i wanna listen to what you’re saying,” you trailed your hand up to his cheek so you could place your thumb on his bottom lip, your own lips forming a small pout, “but all i can think of is your lips and how badly i want to kiss them.”

“do you now?” steve smirked, your thumb moving along with his bottom lip as he spoke. your eyes intently followed the small movement.

“yeah…” you let out another sigh, “wait! is this what you meant when you told me you wish you could kiss me 24/7?” you blurted out, tearing your gaze away from his lips to look him back in the eye.

all steve did was let out a soft laugh. his hand slowly creeped up your arm and to your hand, removing it from his cheek so he could intertwine them, “i did tell you that, huh?”

“i get it now.” your focus landed back on his lips as you softly bit your own bottom lip. the things you’d do to the male standing in front of you if his house wasn’t full with people right now.

he pulled you closer by your hand and leaned slightly closer. his forehead was almost touching yours and when he spoke in a whisper you felt shivers form along your spine, “you know you can just kiss me anytime you want, sweets.”

“i know.” you whispered, detaching your hand from his and moving it, along with your other, up to the back of his neck. his hands instantly moved to your waist. you smirked lightly as you pulled him closer; your foreheads now touching, “but what if i want you to kiss me?”

steve chuckled before connecting your lips with his and you felt yourself instantly relax. “you’re crazy.” he spoke in between kisses, softly squeezing your hips.

“about you, yeah.” you mumbled against his lips, tangling one of your hands into his hair; wanting him to be as close to you as possible.

you raised yourself to stand on your toes just as his tongue darted past your lips and into your mouth. a soft groan escaped steve's lips as he tightened his grip onto your hips. just when you started to melt into the kiss, you could taste a bit of nicotine on either his tongue or lips.

you pulled back slightly, which steve took as a hint to trail his kisses down towards your jaw and neck. your brows formed a small frown in thought. was it your imagination or did he really taste like cigarettes? wanting to find out you placed your palms on his cheeks so you could tilt his head back up and move back into a kiss. as soon as your lips touched his again, you knew you were right.

you leaned back, "did you smoke?" you asked, your eyes on his and his face still cradled in your hands.

steve blinked in confusion, "I did ... outside with eddie and the others." he let his fingertips slip just underneath your top as he spoke, under the impression you already knew he'd smoked earlier that night, "why?"

you threw your head back and let out a groan, “ugh.” a sigh escaped your lips, letting your hands slip down to his shoulders as you looked him back in the eyes, “ now i don’t want to kiss you anymore.”

steve's brows knitted together, getting more confused by the second, "what? ... why?"

"i hate the taste of cigarettes." your lips formed a pout as you spoke, "kinda makes me want to throw up, actually."

"really?! i didn’t know that."

"yeah..." you nodded, starting to play with the collar of his polo.

steve slipped one of his hands from underneath your top and reached up to tuck a stubborn strand of hair behind your ear, "so if I kiss you again right now, you'll throw up..?"

you giggled softly, "okay, maybe, not literally throw up." your eyes went over his features as you spoke, "i just think it tastes awful."

"right." steve slightly tilted his head in thought.

when you noticed you softly squeezed his shoulders, "I'm not saying you have to quit smoking, or anything! you can do whatever you want." you smiled affectionately, "i just won't kiss you right after you've smoked ... maybe you can eat a mint or brush your teeth?"

"alright." steve quickly nodded, still slightly thrown off by this new information. "yeah, i can do that." he smiled at you, moving his hand back to your waist, "wouldn't want to miss out on kissing you, now would i?"

a giggle escaped your lips as you reached your hand up to softly ruffle his hair, “i’m going to get some water, sober up a bit.” you smiled, brushing some hair away from his eyes, “see you later?”

even though you already knew his answer your smile grew slightly when steve hummed in confirmation. you raised yourself on your toes to place a kiss on his cheek, his hands instinctively squeezing your waist.

you gave him one last smile and steve watched as you walked off. his eyes stayed on the doorway through which you had just disappeared a moment longer before throwing his head back. all sort of thoughts were circulating through his head; he couldn’t stop thinking of the conversation you’d just had.

he ran his hands through his hair before placing them on his hips. how had he not know about this? he though of all the times he’d smoked, coming to the conclusion that none of them had been around you, and that there’d always been quite some time between taking a cigarette and seeing you.

steve sighed and let his hand slip into his pocket, taking out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes; the thought of not being able to kiss you slipped into his mind. he ran his free hand through his hair once more before stalking off towards the kitchen.

he squished himself through the crowd, mumbling a quick sorry when bumping into someone. a voice he vaguely recognized called his name but he ignored it as his thoughts were elsewhere.

when he reached the kitchen he instantly went for one of the counter cabinets and opened it to reveal the trash can. he took one last glance at the cigarettes and lighter in his hand before throwing them away. a small breath of relief escaped his lips; it almost felt as if he should’ve done this way sooner.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:

when steve wasn’t able to find you he decided to take a breath of fresh air and go outside for a bit. while he ran his hand through his hair he closed the back door. he was still wondering if he should tell you he’d decided to quit smoking tonight or if he would wait until after the party; not sure if you had managed to sober up.

“look who we’ve got here.” he glanced up to find eddie already looking at him, a stupid smirk grazing his lips. eddie reached out his hand that held a pack of cigarettes, “want one?”

steve shook his head, “thanks, but i can’t.”

“what?” eddie slightly tilted his head, taking a cigarette for himself before stuffing the package into his pocket, “didn’t you smoke one with me earlier?”

steve watched as eddie casually lit up the cigarette, “yeah, that was my last one.”

“your last one?” eddie knitted his brows, exhaling the smoke, “ever?”

steve shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. he had never been a big smoker, he’d probably describe himself as an occasional one; parties, etc. however, having eddie point out so specifically he’d taken his last cigarette earlier that night, it made it sound so official. “yeah, man.”

“why’s that?” eddie tapped his cigarette, his eyes focused on the male in front of him.

steve shrugged once more, “promised my girl.”

the moment the words had left steve’s lips, eddie perked up, his eyes widening and a stupendous smirk growing on his own lips, “no way.”

“what?”

eddie exhaled some more smoke and slightly pushed steve’s shoulder, “aw, my little stevie is in love.”

steve slightly rolled his eyes, but stayed silent as he let his eyes wander over his backyard. eddie’s smirk grew even larger at his silence, “dude, you’re not even denying it!”

“okay, shut up.”

eddie opened his mouth to tease steve a bit more, but closed it the second his eyes caught on the back door opening. when he saw who was making their way outside he grinned back at steve, placing his cigarette against his lips, “speak of the devil.”

steve knitted his brows in confusion, turning his head towards the direction eddie was looking. at the sight of you his brows and posture relaxed instantly and when your eyes found his he couldn’t help but smile. you returned his smile and walked closer to the pair, “hey, i was looking for you, actually.”

“were you now?” eddie tapped his cigarette, “i’ve been outside the entire night.” he playfully smiled at you.

you let out an exaggerated gasp, your eyes falling on the curly haired, "no way! dang it, I should've come out here sooner." you giggled softly.

eddie exhaled some smoke once more before peaking away his cigarette, "too bad and too late, cutie, because i'm going inside now." he sent you a smile and glanced at steve, softly patting his arm, "good luck with the whole 'no smoking' thing, buddy."

your eyes snapped to steve, who obviously cringed at eddie's words. the curly haired called out a goodbye; you waved at him but kept your focus on your boyfriend, "what did he mean by that?"

steve bit his bottom lip, his eyes avoiding yours, "yeah, uhm, exactly what he said. i decided to quit."

"what?!" you exclaimed, reaching out your hands to place them on his cheek so you could turn his head and make him look at you, "but i told you, you don't have to do that."

"but i want to." steve's eyes finally found yours.

"why?"

steve instinctively moved his hands to your hips to pull you closer towards him, "because i can't miss out on kissing you."

you couldn't contain your smile as you let your thumbs softly caress his cheeks, "you're crazy, harrington."

"about you, yeah." steve returned your smile when he repeated the words you'd uttered to him earlier that night, "you know i'd do anything for you, sweets."

[sluttsumu]

☆ — ft. atsumu miya + getting leaked

warnings: 18+, tsumu being nasty

a/n: a little thought of mine, i can totally imagine msby being up in arms because there’s an “alleged” video out.

atsumu is a nightmare for msby’s pr team.

at this point no one is even surprised when there’s a new viral vid on twitter of him fucking you from behind or stuffing his face in your ass. the lewd photography the two of you take may never have your faces in them but, it’s definitely you two, everyones knows that.

he has no shame, and neither do his teammates. the most recent scandal was a video of him fucking you in the new pair of handcuffs that seemed to get everyone’s attention.

it was another ordinary day for him as he walked in the locker room to see everyone on their phones after practice. the air was tense and everyone was thinking the same thing, he knew that they’d seen it and they were wondering why he didn’t care.

kiyoomi was the first to break the silence, as expected.

“so….miya”

atsumu flips his towel over his shoulder not even sparing his friend a glance. “how many times did you cum from watching it?” he cockily chuckled leaving the rest of the locker room in awe.

“SO IT IS YOU” bokuto exclaimed before starting to laugh along side hinata.

“i have no idea what you’re talkin’ about bo-kun”

the devil was a liar, and so was atsumu miya.

despite lying to his team claiming that the video wasn’t his, he enjoyed toying with the curiosity of others.

sakusa muttered a small “tch” under his breath as he reached into his pocket for his phone.

the video started playing.

atsumu’s lips curl into a smile as he finally turns to face the rest of the locker room as sakusa holds his phone to the blondes face. “that’s literally your girlfriend, miya.”

experiencing it was one thing but watching it was something else. the 20 second video played over and over again of your face stuffed into the sheets as atsumu fucked you full of his cum, your muffled whining echoed throughout the room until sakusa finally turned his phone off.

“she sounds pretty doesn’t she?” he smirked.

everyone was guilty to getting off to you, and atsumu knew that, it simply boosted his pride.

grabbing his bag his walks to the door, but doesn’t leave until spewing condescending words just to keep his friends on their toes.

“knock yourselves out.”

the door closes behind him meanwhile everyone looks at each other confused before receiving a collective notification, to a google drive with all of your porn on it.

© — SLUTTSUMU 2023

[porcelainseashore]

Heavenly Creatures

Pairing: Altar Boy! Leon Kennedy x Catholic School Girl! Reader

Summary: Growing up in a conservative, Catholic community, you and Leon were kept apart as kids for your own good. However, a fateful encounter at church many years later causes you to question those boundaries.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Smut, porn with plot, unprotected p in v, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (f receiving), semi-public sex (church), Catholicism, religious imagery & symbolism, temptation, guilt, shaming, name-calling, growing up, smoking, swearing, romance, fluff, secret relationship.

Author's Note: Leon and Reader are in senior high and 18 when smut happens. No guarantee that you won’t burn in hell after reading this 🔥😂

Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for being my sounding board + shadesoflsk & Cameron for your helpful feedback.

Title from Heavenly Creatures by Wolf Alice.

AO3 Link

Snake. Devil. Satan’s spawn.

Those were the names you had grown accustomed to as a child. You didn’t know why you were called them, instead of the one your parents had given you. You were too little to understand. All you knew was that you were made to feel different. Maybe you were really an anomaly from the rest after all.

Instead of being quiet and shy, you were loud and boisterous. It was natural for you, seeing as you were going through your tomboy phase, which was the exact reason your parents had stuck to when they received complaints about your behavior. They laughed it off, while others reined their daughters in, forcing them into perfect Sunday dresses, braided hair adorned with pastel ribbons and clean, black Mary Jane shoes. Good enough to fit into a pretty gift box with wrapping paper. But you would tear it all down, before anyone could lay a finger on you.

Growing up in a place where other children were told to shun you was difficult at first. But then, you learnt to play by yourself and relish in the power of make believe. You climbed trees, rolled in the mud and ran through the forest fending off imaginary monsters. Sometimes, when you bumped into other groups of boys who threw stones and made fun of you, you fought back, further earning the title of crazy witch! Who needed these idiots anyway? You were your own best company.

One day, you sat in your disheveled, cream cotton dress, swinging your legs from a tree in your front lawn as usual. It overlooked the suburban neighborhood street, giving you a bird’s eye view of your surroundings. You noticed a family of three strolling along the sidewalk, though the couple gave you a disapproving look as they walked past, and whispered to their little, adolescent boy. They thought they were being so discreet, but you could hear every single word they were saying.

“Don’t pay attention to her. She’s bad news.”

Regardless of this remark, the boy gave in to his curiosity and as he peered up, you held his wide-eyed gaze. His irises were azure in color, glowing as it caught the early dusk light from different angles, shifting across a stunning spectrum of bluish, iridescent hues. You were captivated by them, and as you continued staring, his cheeks turned rosy red, though it seemed like he could not break away from you either. That moment was abruptly cut short, as his father smacked the back of his head, chiding his son for disobeying him.

“Come along now, Leon.” The older man wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, turning him away from your direction.

Leon. So, that was his name. As you watched them turn the corner at the end of the street and head off, you wondered if and when you’d see him again.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon had heard the stories passed around about you. His parents had often commented about your family as being one of those ‘weird, hippy types’. Frankly, this didn’t scare him, but rather, it fascinated him. They made you appear like something he had read in a book about myths and legends, and he wanted to see if it was real.

The next time he went out to play in the field, he walked by your place again on purpose, even though it would have been the longer route. As he had predicted, you were up in the tree again, lounging across its branches with your eyes closed, like a slithery snake basking in the sun. Your dress was stained with grass and dirt, and your feet were soiled and filthy. Twigs poked out haphazardly from your knotted, messy hair. 

You looked like a creature of sorts, alright, he thought.

He inched towards the base of the tree trunk gingerly, trying not to stir the sleeping beast. But as he got closer, he accidentally stepped into a pile of dead leaves, which crunched underfoot. 

You roused from your slumber then, rubbing your eyes as you stretched your arms out with a lazy yawn. He flinched when you looked downwards at him, as if you might strike out, but you just smiled and said, “Hi.”

He was confused then. From the descriptions of you, he had expected you to breathe fire and gnash your teeth at him fiercely, but you were just a normal girl. He gave you a puzzled look, nodding as he greeted you with a stutter, “Hi… I-I’m, uh, Leon.”

“I know.” You grinned.

“You do?” He looked astounded, as if you’d conducted some dark ritual to find out.

You picked up on this and teased him, wiggling your fingers as you mouthed, “Magic…”

He laughed, relaxing his stiff shoulders and asking you for your name. He’d only known you until now as that girl, or one of those nicknames people gave you out of spite.

You introduced yourself and offered him a half-eaten apple you had munched on before napping on the tree. He hesitated at first, regarding it as if it were a forbidden fruit, but eventually he reached out for it. Gratefully, he bit in, savoring the flavorful burst of its juicy flesh.

“Do you go to church?” He asked suddenly, out of the blue.

Shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun with your hand, you squinted at him. “Yeah, why?”

“Oh.” He paused, considering his next words, though he blurted out with unfiltered honesty, “Well, my dad said that demons can’t enter hallowed ground.”

“I’m not a demon,” you huffed indignantly.

“No, you aren’t,” he agreed, waving his hands in the air apologetically, trying to salvage the situation. “I think you’re nice, actually.” His face was warm and pink again.

“I think you’re nice too.”

And it continued on like this. Some days, he’d pop over to visit and speak with you from below the tree, when he was sure no one was watching. Until a day came where he wasn’t as careful, and was spotted by a concerned neighbor, who ratted him out to his parents. 

You were sad that he wasn’t allowed to see you again, but you’d grown used to being alone for most of your childhood, so you tried to put it behind you and move on, unaware that he’d often look out for you at each week’s Sunday Mass.

━━━━━━━━━━━

A number of years passed, and you filled out into your own body. You were in your senior year of an all-girls Catholic high school, and had recently turned 18. Reaching womanhood also meant that you became acutely aware of the changes in the way society treated you now, as compared to the opposite sex. Heads turned as you stalked around with one of the more unruly cliques in your school. Instead of being name-called after otherworldly creatures, you were reduced to bitch, slut, or whore. 

People hated what they couldn’t understand or control. You’d been giving the nuns a hard time by asking controversial questions about the biblical text you were meant to study and recite blindly. Detention was nothing new to you and your friends, whom you’d been caught smoking cigarettes together with on school grounds. You were a rebel at heart, and the rest of the law-abiding community wanted to crush that and make you conform.

Leon, on the other hand, had been going to the all-boys school next door, which shared a brother school relationship with yours. He was in the same year and age as you, though being a man meant he had the privilege of getting away with certain things you couldn’t. Even there, your name wasn’t safe from being circulated around the rumor mill. You were the subject of boys’ locker room talk. They associated you with the ‘bad girl’ crowd, highlighting your love for reading banned books and boasting about supposed sexual escapades with you. 

“She’ll do favors,” they said, making vulgar gestures by moving their fist back and forth in front of their mouth, while poking their tongue against their cheek.

Leon slammed his locker door shut and stormed off. It made him uncomfortable that they gossiped about you that way, but he was even more ashamed of the fact that he made no effort to stand up for you. He hardly knew you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that what they were doing was finding a scapegoat to blame. That, unfortunately, time and time again, happened to be you.

Most of the students there were sexually active anyway, but no one had complained about them. As long as one kept things on the down-low and upheld a certain moralistic façade, they were considered as ‘innocent’, ‘pure’, or ‘normal’ even. For one, he was pretty sure that his father was having an affair with the church choir mistress, but that seemed to go overlooked. 

Everyone’s such hypocrites, he pondered, frowning in distaste. Including himself. Although he liked to think that he was brave and courageous, in actuality, he was afraid of rocking the boat. Fitting in was more important, just as his parents had taught him from a young age. It was the side of him that he hated the most, but could not get rid of.

Gathering his belongings, he left school and hurried off. He’d been requested last-minute to serve at Mass that evening, as one of the other altar boys had fallen ill. At church, he exchanged his school uniform for the standard black cassock and white surplice, before starting with the Introductory Rites.

You, on the other hand, had been singled out along with a bunch of other troublesome girls to attend Evening Mass with the Mother Superior that day. It was just your luck that you had to devote an hour of your time to a set of outdated rituals and prayers, with the aim of reflecting upon your sins. The most frustrating part of this exercise was that all of you were placed in the front row pews, so there was no chance of daydreaming or dozing off in front of the priest. You’d never been much of a believer, but sometimes you did speculate if God was watching your every move from above.

As you stood up for the entrance procession, which signaled the start of Mass, a familiar mop of dirty blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes passed by. You’d recognize that anywhere, but it was a wonder how you hadn’t realized that he was serving as an altar boy all this while. Maybe your Mass timings hadn’t aligned? Or maybe you just never paid much attention in church. You’d only seen him here and there when he attended Mass with his family as part of the congregation, but you ignored him back then, because you didn’t want to remember the feeling of losing the closest thing you had to a friend in your pre-teen days.

When Leon turned around to face the congregation for the greeting, he gulped as he saw you, standing almost directly in front of him as both of you made the Sign of the Cross. Speak of the devil, he muttered internally, before chastising himself for unintentionally insulting you and shook that thought away.

You gave him a coy smile as he scampered off to where he was meant to be stationed. For the first time in a while, you took the chance to admire his chiseled features and how much he had grown. He had always been attractive, but he was no longer the little boy you used to know, and instead now a fine, young man, in an even finer religious attire. Puberty did him good, you mused.

All at once, a mischievous plan flashed across your mind as you plotted how to win his attention. It would be an entertaining way to pass the time in this mundane institution. Viewing the school uniform as yet another means for the authorities to curb people’s freedom and creative expression, you had a habit of violating the dress code by making minor adjustments to it. Whether it was shortening the hem of your skirt or wearing below the ankle socks, you went for it. And today was no exception.

You waited until it was time to be seated before attempting to catch his gaze. Within a few minutes, he sneaked a peek your way and you stifled a laugh. Bingo. As you continued looking straight at him, you stretched your legs out cautiously, so as not to alert the Mother Superior, who sat beside you, to your antics. His eyes widened and flickered, as you showed off their length, rotating your ankles in small circles languidly. The other altar boys started to take note and whispered in hushed tones amongst themselves. But you only had eyes for Leon, scrutinizing him like a hawk, as you bared your teeth with a sly grin plastered across your face.

It was only a matter of time before the Mother Superior rapped you on the legs with a thin, wooden cane she carried around for doling out such punishments. The other girls in your row giggled as you returned your legs to a respectable position, disregarding the smarting pain that had accompanied the blow. 

It was worth it, you reasoned, spotting Leon’s lopsided smile, as he turned away to hide his blush.

This soon carried on like an unspoken game between you and Leon. You’d attend Mass whenever he was serving as an altar boy, and he’d look out for you, exchanging glances like a secret code shared between the two of you. A sense of thrill arose within him each time, as to what you’d try next. If only he knew what you were capable of.

At some point, you grew bolder. During the Holy Communion, where Leon had been helping the priest to hold the patina under the chins of those who received the Sacred host, you made sure once again to make eye contact with him the whole way through. Your mouth was slightly agape, as you extended your tongue, clasping your hands together in a pious prayer position. When the priest placed the host in your mouth, you swallowed it suggestively, licking your upper lip for a finishing touch. Leon nearly stumbled over backwards as his face turned bright red like a tomato. The last thing he heard was your silvery laughter, and you returned to your seat as if nothing had happened. You had ensnared him now.

When Mass ended, you slipped him a note, asking him to meet you at the confessional when everyone else had been ushered out. You knelt in the penitent compartment, waiting for him to arrive, confident that he would show up. A few minutes later, you heard someone enter the booth where the priest usually sat.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began. Through the latticed screen, you could just about make out Leon’s face as he chuckled.

“What are you playing at?”

“You tell me,” you challenged, testing the waters. “I haven’t received any complaints.”

“Well, I have a question,” he mentioned quietly. “Do you still remember when we hung out back then? At the tree.”

There was pang in your heart, as you recalled your childhood memories. “Of course, you were the only one who bothered to speak to me.”

You pursed your lips before taking the plunge. “I really appreciated that.”

There was a momentary pause, as he took your words in. “I wish they didn’t separate us.”

“It isn’t too late to start over.” It was humiliating how eager you sounded. No matter how much you tried to repress it, you yearned to rekindle that connection you had with him once.

“Listen, I like you,” he admitted, sighing heavily. “But, I can’t go public with this. My parents-”

“Who says it has to be public?” You retorted defensively. 

His heartfelt confession emboldened you, yet a part of you felt dejected that this was the best option he could offer. However, you didn’t want to concede without giving it a shot.

He made a noise which sounded like he was in disbelief. “You mean-”

“Shall I come over and show you?” You interrupted, already getting up before he could answer.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “I-I’d like that, I guess.”

Exiting your compartment, you stepped out and swiftly went over to where he was, closing the door behind you. It was crammed and stuffy in this tiny box with two people, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Giving him a once-over, it struck you that he was still in his altar boy attire and perhaps what you were about to do was wrong on so many levels, but you brushed those thoughts aside.

“Um-”

Before he could speak any further, you ran your hands up along his chest and planted your lips onto his, soft and pillowy in texture. He let out a low moan, easing into your embrace as he kissed back, holding onto the back of your head for better leverage. His tongue grazed across your lips and you parted them in response, allowing it to slip inside as you tasted each other. Grabbing the collar of his cassock, you pressed your bodies together heatedly. You sucked on his tongue, eliciting another moan from his throat, as you shuffled him around, pushing his back against the wooden wall with a loud thud. Both of you had lost yourselves in a whirlwind of kisses, oblivious to the outside world and the ruckus you were making.

However, it was hard to ignore the hymn that was being sung when the next Mass started. Leon froze, before pulling away hastily. His mouth was red and swollen, and a pearly string of saliva connected it with yours.

“Shit, we lost track of time,” he panted. 

If you didn’t want to be seen, you’d need to remain where you were until the Mass ended. In other words, both of you were trapped here for at least another hour. 

Not being one to let such matters ruin the vibe, you responded, “That’s not a problem for me.” Trailing a lone finger down Leon’s body seductively, you let it come to rest above the growing bulge in his cassock.

“Are you serious?” He breathed, as you cupped your hand around it, palming him through his clothes.

“You got a better idea?” You murmured in his ear, squeezing his erection a little as you continued rubbing against it.

“Don’t get me wrong, it feels amazing.” His voice was strained as he spoke. “But, it’s just…”

“Catholic guilt?” You teased.

“Yeah, probably.” He nodded sheepishly.

“Well, maybe if we get you out of this thing.” You gestured to his attire. “You might relax into it more.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed, tugging the surplice over his head and discarding it to the ground. “Though it never really goes away, does it?”

You shrugged, shaking your head. “I still get it, but it’s less of an issue now.” It made you follow up with a question of your own. “Does that mean I’m a bad person?”

His eyes crinkled as he grinned. “You're doing it again.”

“Hm?”

“Guilt,” he indicated. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway.” You tried to deflect the topic, knowing the rumors that people spread about you. Leon had probably heard it all. “At least there’s still hope for you.”

“Thanks?”

“Don’t thank me yet.” You winked, removing the sash from his cassock as he unbuttoned the rest of it, revealing a plain white shirt and a pair of shorts underneath.

He snickered as you clucked your tongue at the sight. “What did you expect me to do? Go Commando?”

“Would’ve been hot,” you pointed out.

Leon had always been perceptive. From your interactions, he began to suspect that sometimes you relied on lighthearted banter as a way to mask your nervousness and other underlying emotions.

Nestling his fingers under your chin, he turned you towards him. “You sure about this?”

“Mm hm.” It was sweet of him to check in. Most guys never offered you the same courtesy. “Been thinking about it since Communion,” you added brazenly.

He snorted as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. Working your way down, you kissed his clothed body, pulling the waistband of his underwear and shorts to his ankles. Kneeling before him, you reached for his cock, smearing beads of his precum carelessly along his velvety skin, while you pumped his hot shaft slowly.

He inhaled sharply, snapping his eyes shut, as he tilted his head back in pleasure. In the background, you could hear the priest’s sermon droning on.

With a smug smile, you warned, “Do me a favor and try to keep it down, will you?”

Before he had a chance to react, you filled your mouth with his cock, sliding all the way down its hardened length.

“Jesus,” he groaned.

Instantly, you released it with a pop and tutted in mock disappointment, “Taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

“We’re so going to hell for this,” he laughed faintly, tangling his hands in your hair.

“Ah-” He gasped again, as you held onto the base of his cock, lifting it to flatten your tongue on its underside. Slathering it with saliva, you took his balls into your wet mouth, one at a time, sucking on them delectably. “Fuck!”

“Don’t you ever shut up?” You joked.

“Not if you keep doing what you’re doing, angel.”

Angel. That was a new one. You’d never been called that before, but you liked the sound of it.

Wrapping your lips around his cock, you started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Each time you came up, you flicked your tongue at the tip, licking it as you stared up at him. His eyes flew open, gazing at you with lust and arousal while you sucked him off more vigorously.

Sliding his cock in deeper, you allowed it to hit the back of your throat, causing you to make a guttural noise. Clenching his fist, he bit down hard on his knuckles to stop himself from crying out. If this was hell, he’d stay right here with you. He couldn’t think straight anymore, as he bucked his hips forward in response.

Grabbing his ass, your fingernails left crescent shaped indents on his skin, as you let him fuck your mouth to chase his high. Tears lined your eyelashes and sweat poured down your brow. It had gotten incredibly hot and humid in this enclosed space. But his muted moans only served to turn you on even more. You wondered how perverse and trashy you looked in this position, though Leon could only mumble the opposite in his feverish state.

Soon, he tensed and quivered while hissing through gritted teeth, “God, I’m gonna cum.”

Lady Luck appeared to be on your side, as the congregation were in the middle of singing another hymn, which inadvertently muffled whatever sounds were coming from the confessional. He struggled to hold in his groans as you felt a thick, salty load of his cum wash up against your throat. You choked a bit before swallowing it whole.

Collapsing backwards, you leaned against the cool surface of the seat behind you, wiping the edges of your mouth. Tucking his spent dick back under his clothes, he sank down beside you, kissing you gently and tasting himself on your lips. 

“You ok?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek.

You nodded silently and smiled, contemplating if there would be a future to what you had with him now.

“I ruined you,” he jested, showering you with kisses along your jawline.

“As if.” You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was the truth.

And, just like he had read your mind, he uttered the magic words, “So, when will I see you again?”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Since the encounter at the confessional, you continued your clandestine meetings with Leon, just like back in the old days, except both of you were now wiser in covering your tracks. In public, you pretended not to know each other, yet shared furtive, longing glances when you were in the same vicinity. Sometimes, he would make an excuse to brush past you, his touch ghosting across the curve of your spine, your shoulders, the back of your hand to the tip of your pinkie finger. Away from prying eyes, you hooked up passionately, damning each other further to hell. How many levels were there again? You’d lost count.

You enjoyed the moments spent with him. The aftercare and cuddling. The long talks into the night. You understood each other somehow, it wasn’t like this with other people. So, if the Day of Judgment arrived, why would God not sympathize with you both?

Despite that, neither of you had put a label on where you stood with each other. How did this secret relationship work? If you were found out, would he ditch you like before? Would you be thrown under the bus, so that he could be purified again? It wasn’t long until insecurity reared its ugly head, gnawing at you from within.

Leon sensed something was off as you lay in his arms, naked while he spooned you in the back seat of his car, parked along a desolate dirt path near the forest. You had that pensive look on your face, like you were in a world of your own, one where he couldn’t enter.

Pulling you close to him, he kissed the top of your shoulder, coaxing you out of your reverie. “Wanna talk about it?”

You hummed noncommittally. After a long pause, you asked, “Are you embarrassed by me?”

He was caught off-guard by the question and his breathing stilled. “No,” he argued. “Why would you think that?”

“I’m just tired of hiding,” you sighed. “It’s like I’m making you do something bad.”

There was a brief ache in his chest, as guilt swelled up like a wave. Coward, an inner voice spat.

Carding his fingers through your hair, he pressed his lips against the temple of your head. “You make me feel like the best version of myself.”

“Hm.” You pinched your lips together, wanting to believe him, but you weren’t convinced.

He observed this, but decided not to press the issue any further, knowing that you needed action, not words.

She’ll be your downfall. A surly voice piped up within him, like fire and brimstone. He shook it off, ignoring the moral tug-of-war that had occurred once he made that statement, as he vowed to prove himself to you in the coming days.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next time you’d agreed to meet was in church, after the very last Mass of the day. He was serving as an altar boy again, and you were intrigued as to whether he had planned to reenact the entire confessional scene or switch it up with something new, like making you go through the Stations of the Cross while fucking you. You giggled at the idea, only to be shushed by a fellow parishioner, whom you had disturbed in meditative prayer.

When Mass ended and everyone except yourself had left the nave, you waited patiently for him in the pews. After a while, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to face Leon, who had changed into his casual clothes. As you got to your feet, he cupped the sides of your face in his hands, closing the distance, and bringing your lips to meet his in a fervent kiss. You were slightly taken aback by his initiation, since he was usually the shyer one out of the two of you.

Claiming your hand in his, he led you to the front, where the altar stood before the austere crucifix that hung from the wall. He smirked, noticing the look of shock and incredulity on your face, as it gradually began to dawn on you what he had in mind. However, he was anxious too, you could tell from the way his hand was trembling. He was sealing his fate, and you were both going down together. Nothing could bring you back after this ultimate act of blasphemy.

At the foot of the altar, he caressed his lips against yours. “I guess God is our witness now.”

Leaning in, you found yourselves consumed in a lip lock, which deepened with each passing second as you helped each other out of your clothes, kicking them off unceremoniously to the side. He spun you around, bending you forward against the smooth, marble top of the altar. The cold surface caused your nipples to harden and goosebumps to form on your skin. You shivered as he spread your legs wider apart and knelt down, holding your thighs as he licked a firm stripe along your silken folds. 

As he continued to lap at the sensitive flesh, he brought a hand towards your clit, stroking it softly with his middle finger. You jerked from the sensation, whimpering as he alternated between thrusting his tongue into your heat and suckling it with his lips. There was a slight pressure as you felt one of his fingers sliding into your pussy, already soaked with arousal. At the same time, his tongue trailed up towards your rim, teasing it with long, flat licks.

“Oh my god!” You gasped, gripping the edge of the altar, as an electrifying tingle coursed through your veins.

There was a playful smack on your ass. “Forgotten the Third Commandment already?” Leon scolded.

“Huh?”

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain,” he mimicked your tone from when you had teased him at the confessional.

“Ugh,” you whined. “I’m sure this is the least of our concerns.”

You felt his hot breath against your asshole before he dipped his tongue in lightly. Simultaneously, he pumped your pussy, pushing in another finger and stretching you out, before his tongue went back to circling around your rim, inciting a string of moans from your mouth.

“Feeling good?”

“Mm, yes,” you replied hoarsely. “But when are you going to fuck me?”

He coughed out a laugh at your bluntness, before imparting a piece of unsolicited advice. “Patience is a virtue.”

You groaned at his quip. “Really, Leon? Are you-”

He interrupted rudely, pressing his hand on your back as he entered you, burying his cock deep into your cunt. You nearly screamed in ecstasy as he pounded his hips against your ass repeatedly, already setting a brutal pace from the beginning. Maybe you should’ve been careful of what you wished for.

“What was that again?” He taunted.

You growled, clenching your jaw as you felt his dick dragging against your sensitive walls. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed across the space. Your mind fogged up in an insatiable haze as you pushed back rhythmically against his thrusting, allowing him to penetrate you further, and taking pleasure in how his head brushed against your cervix with each stroke.

“So close,” you rasped, your core tightening as if it was about to burst.

At this, he pulled away briefly, flipping you over as he lifted you onto the altar top. He had a bruising grip around your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist instinctively, interlocking your ankles behind his back to draw him closer. Bewitched, he took a moment to drink in the divine sight of your flushed, moist body, supple and wanting in his arms, before kissing you sloppily on the mouth. Pressing his forehead against yours, he asserted, “You don’t know what you do to me, angel.”

With that, he rutted into you relentlessly, your breasts bouncing as you clung to the back of his neck, crying out in rapture. When you finally snapped, a glimmer from the gold cross necklace he wore daily flashed before your eyes. You looped your index finger around it, tugging at it as you peered up at the bleeding face of Christ looking down at you ominously from the crucifix. The last remains of the day’s light filtered through the stained glass behind him, casting a kaleidoscope of mottled colors across your bodies, the altar and the stone floor, like a disease.

You realized you had tempted Leon beyond salvation. But in spite of it, he had followed you willingly. This was the proof he had wanted to show you. You were the angel he would desecrate everything for. He’d cut your wings off so you’d be his and stay.

His cock throbbed with desire as he rode you through your orgasm. As he neared the edge, he pulled out, finishing himself off. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he murmured a mixture of curses and professions against your skin, while spurting hot white cum over the mound of your pussy. Holding onto the marbled structure for support, he bent over you, placing tender kisses on your eyes and your lips.

It seemed as if he had turned his back on God and worshiped you now. But instead of a guilty conscience, you felt nothing but love. Silently, both of you cleaned up and got dressed. He delicately reattached the butterfly clip that had come loose in your hair, while you wiped away the lipstick that had smudged onto his face. There would be no signs of what had transpired, except he had another surprise lined up for you. 

Upon exiting the church doors, Leon took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, as you walked out onto the street together. You were his - he’d show you off to the whole damn world without shame.

[streamluckybyriize]

OHHHhhhh Niki the things you do to me

Don’t like, don’t read (2/4)

Warnings- smut - phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, Idol Niki

(We are writing this as though the boys aren’t dying of exhaustion)

Oh, yeah?

You miss Niki. You miss his arms around you, cuddling you. You miss his banter, constant teasing. You miss his smell drifting around your apartment- no longer there.

You also miss his cock. You need him so bad. Nothing works. Not even your vibrator. Your desperation is apparent, so you’ve been told.

You’ve never been this needy while he’s in tour. But it’s like a craving- you need all of him like you need air. Dramatic, but it’s how you feel.

You have no idea what to do. You can’t tell him that because that’s embarrassing in person, let alone digitally. You have no idea how long you’re going to last before you break, especially since you’ve been calling each other every night while he’s on tour. Speaking of calling, your phone buzzes. Speaking of the devil, it’s Niki.

You accept the call, apprehension coursing through you. This is the neediest you’ve felt while he’s away, and last night was difficult. You almost cracked, and you have a feeling you’ll crack tonight.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hey, doll” He greets, his voice low and husky, indicating he probably just woke up. Your cunt clenches. Jesus, get it together, Y/N.

You clear your throat. “Sleep well?” You try to sound as normal as if you weren’t squeezing your thighs to relief some sort of tension.

“Mmh.” He hums. So yes, he did sleep well.

“How was the concert today?” You ask, wanting to hear more of his deep voice.

“It was amazing. The crowd was wild and loud so it pumped the boys and I.” You hear ruffling, so it’s probably him shifting around in his hotel bed. “Anyways, how was your day?” He asks you. You shift this time. Oh yeah, I just spent today fantasising about your fucking dick.

You didn’t say that though. “I was just lounging around the house. I didn’t do anything today. Just missed you.”

“I miss you too, baby. I can’t wait till I see you. As soon as I see you I’m not letting you go and as soon as I get you alone, I’m making up for the lost time.” He replies. You think about the things Niki would do. When he gets back from tour, Niki gets needy, desperate and really rough. You whine at that, and your hands slap your mouth, eyes wide. There was no way he missed that. It was straight into the phone call. And Niki knows you very well, and he’d know that’s a needy whine.

“Doll?” He questions after a few seconds of silence. Fuck, what do you do? Hanging up isn’t an option because he’ll just text you and you’re not going to be able to ignore them.

“Yeah..?” You weakly respond. He laughs.

“What was that noise?” Oh god. Here comes the teasing.

“hm?” Play dumb. That’s what you’ll do.

“What noise?” You inquire.

“The needy whine you just let out.” He says. You can feel his smirk from across the fucking planet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Angel..don’t lie.” “Fine. I’m really needy, Niki. I need you so bad. Nothing is working and I’m so fucking horny. I’ve been thinking about you all day and all I want is to feel your cock stretching me out.” You feel embarrassed.

“Aww, is my pretty girl worked up?”

“Yes.” It comes out exasperated and whiny. You’re fingers twitch, your cunt throbbing and absolutely dripping.

“Your fingers aren’t as good as mine? Is that why you can’t cum?” You moan at that, way too worked up to care at this point. You need his help.

“Yeah..”

You can’t tell, but niki is dying. You turn him on so fast. He’s already throbbing, and he doesn’t even wanna look down because he knows he’s leaking. “Fuck, baby.” You hear ruffling, and you know what he’s doing. So you do the same thing.

You drag your hand down your body, bunching your waist band. You pull your shorts off along with your panties. Your fingers play with your bundle of nerves and you moan out loud.

“You touching yourself, baby?” He says, wrapping his hand around his shaft. He groans, tightening his hand, imagining it was your cunt.

“Yes.” You rub yourself quicker, adding more pressure and your breathing becomes uneven.

“What are you thinking about. Tell me.” He pants, his hand working up and down once before bring it to his mouth. You hear him spit, and you do the same thing. You spit on your hand, making more of a wet mess between your legs.

“You rubbing me. Your long slender fingers having your way with me. Fuck, I need you so bad…” his hand speeds up at your little whines.

“I know baby. Once I’m back I’m not letting you go.” He says, groaning at the thought of your heat snuggly wrapped around him. A wave of arousal rushes through him and he’s even closer now.

“Niki…I’m going to cum.” You moan as you thrust two fingers inside of your pussy. Your legs quiver and you’re so fucking close.

“I’m almost there, wait for me, yeah?” His voice comes out shaking as he lays his phone on his chest, now fully focusing on your moans as you sound more desperate.

“I’ll try.”

“Good girl. When I see you, I’ll let you cum on my tongue for as long as you want.”

“Niki- fuck, don’t say that when I’m trying to hold out.”

“Not anymore. I’m gonna cum. Finish with me.” He pants out, you moan in response and you wait till he says. “Fuck, cum angel. Cum please.” And you do. Your body freezes except for your heaving chest and your fast fingers, pumping out all your juices as he lets out a deep, guttural groan from his chest. “Ffffffuck.”

A comfortable silence sets while you both attempt to gather your breathing. “Shit. That was so-“ you swallow a glob of spit. “Hard. I haven’t cummed like that since the night before you left.” You’re in a deep daze, as if you were high. I mean, you always feel like that with Niki.

“Angel.” He breaths. “Mmh?”

“As soon as I enter that fucking door, I’m making sure you can’t walk for the rest of the week.”

“I’ll be waiting.” You feel a wave of exhaustion take over you, and you can tell that happened to Niki too as he yawns.

“Im tired now.”

“Me too.” You agree. “I’ll call you later when I wake up? Is that okay?” “I’ll pick up when you ring. Good night, baby.”

“Good night, Niki.”

[inou-ie]

DEAL WITH THE DEVIL | HSR DEMON!AU PART1

pairing(s): demon!(kafka, jingliu) x sub!female reader

warnings: nsfw, ( kafka - dubcon, fingering, clit stimulation, somnophilia, mirror sex, bondage), (transfem!jingliu - facial, blowjob, rough sex, creampie), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting

read part 2 here

men and minors dni

"Curiosity kills the cat" the saying that fits you well. Trying to summon a demon out of boredom to see what happens, you never thought it would actually work. It worked almost too well, actually. Not only one nor two came... and they just keep coming to you.

Now you're stuck with demons who refuse to leave you alone, tirelessly offering you different kinds of contracts until you eventually gave in. They all share the same goal: to have your soul... which seems to be impossible without them fighting over it.

So, to compromise, they agreed to share your body instead. Now, they take turns to avoid conflict, acknowledging the schedule you made for them and obeying your request to "get along."

KAFKA

"Little master, little master..."

As your eyes slowly fluttered open, a sense of disorientation washed over you. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows across the walls, and your gaze immediately fell upon the large mirror in front of you. Reflecting back was an unsettling image that sent a shiver down your spine.

You sat naked on Kafka's lap, your skin flush against hers, the heat of her body seeping into yours. Your arms were bound tightly behind you, the restraints biting into your skin as they held you in place.

Your legs were splayed apart, each limb secured with the same pink strings that contrasted starkly against your skin, forcing them open in a display of vulnerability. The strings seemed to accentuate every curve and contour of your body, highlighting your exposed form in the most intimate of ways.

Kafka's presence behind you was palpable, her arms wrapped possessively around your waist, holding you firmly against her as she gazed at your reflection with hunger. Her eyes were dark with desire, a wicked grin playing at the corners of her lips as she relished in the sight before her.

Two of Kafka's fingers were buried deep within your pussy, their movements expertly massaging and stroking your sensitive walls with precision. Each motion sent ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, igniting a fiery heat that pooled between your legs, a damp warmth that only intensified with each stroke.

You struggled to piece together how you ended up in this position, your memory hazy and fragmented. All you could recall was the sensation of drifting off to sleep, only to awaken to this surreal scene.

As you tried to make sense of it all, the evidence of Kafka's ministrations was undeniable. A slick, slippery feeling enveloped you, betraying the fact that she had been pleasuring you for some time now. Your body responded instinctively to her touch, arching into her hand as she expertly explored your tight walls.

Kafka hummed softly behind you, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she continued to finger her way deeper into your depths. Her movements were deliberate and skillful, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. She gazed intently at herself in the mirror, reveling in the sight of her actions affecting you so enticingly.

Her eyes gleamed with mischief and desire as she watched your reactions, her own arousal evident in the way her breath hitched with each gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

"Little master, you're so adorable when you sleep... I couldn't help myself." Kafka purred into your ear, her voice dripping with desire as she trailed kisses all over your ear and neck. Her lips left a trail of fiery heat in their wake, igniting a fervent need within you as her fingers continued their relentless exploration, moving deeper and faster with each passing moment.

You whimpered in response, a soft moan escaping your lips as the sensations overwhelmed your senses. Your head fell back against Kafka's chest, seeking solace in her embrace as pleasure coursed through your body like a wildfire.

Suddenly, another pink string wrapped around your neck, its pressure constricting your airway and making it harder for you to breathe. Panic surged through you as you gasped for air, tears welling up in your eyes from the overwhelming mix of pleasure and discomfort.

"Kafka... wai– hmngh..." you managed to choke out, your words cut off by the tightening grip of the string around your neck. The sensation was suffocating, adding an edge of danger to the already intense pleasure that consumed you.

Despite your struggle for breath, Kafka showed no signs of relenting. On the contrary, she curled and twisted her fingers deep within you, hitting all the right spots with pinpoint accuracy. Each movement sent shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through your body, eliciting cries of pleasure and desperation from your lips.

"Shh, it's okay, I'll give you more." Kafka grinned wickedly, her eyes glowing with anticipation as she added another finger, her movements becoming even more relentless and precise. With each thrust, her fingers rubbed against your favorite spot with such delicious precision that it sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you shake your head in disbelief at just how good it felt.

But Kafka wasn't done yet. With her other hand, she reached for your pulsating clit, her touch gentle yet firm as she gave it the attention it craved. She teased it gently, her fingers dancing over the sensitive flesh before pinching it between her fingers, sending a jolt of sensation coursing through your body.

As she continued to move her fingers deep inside you, her pace quickening with each passing moment, Kafka's words rang in your ears like a tantalizing promise. "That's it, little master. Let go of yourself, let me feed on your desires."

And as if on command, you felt your control slipping away, your body responding eagerly to Kafka's expert touch. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you let out the dirtiest, most primal moan, the sound echoing through the room as your back arched and your hips moved of their own accord.

A rush of pleasure overwhelmed you, building and building until it exploded in a burst of ecstasy. You squirted all over the mattress and onto Kafka's hand, your release washing over you in waves as you surrendered completely to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you.

But Kafka wasn't ready to release you from her grip just yet. With a firm hand, she held your head still, forcing you to gaze at your own reflection in the mirror while she continued to pump her fingers into your dripping walls with relentless determination.

"Look at how erotic your body is, little master." she chuckled, her long tongue tracing the shell of your ear. The sensation made you even more sensitive, your body quivering with anticipation as Kafka's words washed over you like a forbidden caress.

"I just came..." you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper as you tried to slide off Kafka's lap in a feeble attempt to escape the overwhelming sensations. But she held you firmly in place, another set of pink strings wrapping around your legs and spreading them apart even wider.

As if that wasn't enough, her hand tightened around your neck, adding to the pressure of the strings already wrapped around your throat. You gasped for air, the sensation both exhilarating and terrifying as Kafka exerted her dominance over you.

And then, just like that, Kafka pulled her fingers out, leaving you empty and achingly needy. You groaned in response, your dripping folds quivering with unsatisfied desire as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, your pussy trembling with need.

"Now, little master... I want you to cum only from your clit. You can do that, right?" Kafka cooed, her voice dripping with desire as she kissed your cheek and temple, inhaling your scent.

As you reluctantly nodded, a mixture of emotions flooded your senses. Tears of pleasure trickled down your cheeks and Kafka quickly wiped them away, her touch both comforting and terrifying.

"I want you to watch yourself closely," Kafka whispered, her voice laced with authority. "If I catch you closing your eyes, then I'll have to punish you." With a firm yet tender grip, Kafka pulled you up, preventing you from slipping down her lap in your weakened state. Her gaze locked with yours, a silent command to obey her every instruction.

"Don't melt yet, little master." Kafka's laughter echoed in the room, her amusement adding to your vulnerability. As her hand delicately spread your pussy open, revealing your hardening clit, you couldn't help but arch into her touch, surrendering completely to the pleasure and dominance she wielded over you.

With a gentle yet firm touch, Kafka's other hand reached down to tap your quivering clit with a single finger. "Watch, little master." she reminded you, her voice a soft command. Your teary eyes remained glued to the reflection, every movement of her fingers magnified in your vision.

You observed intently as she tapped your clit repeatedly, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breath caught in your throat as she teased your entrance, dipping her finger slightly, so close yet just out of reach.

Struggling to steady your breathing, your chest heaved with anticipation. Just as you began to get used to the rhythmic tapping, Kafka's thumb pressed firmly against your clit, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. Your head instinctively threw back in ecstasy, a moan escaping your lips as you gritted your teeth against the overwhelming sensation.

Kafka maintained the pressure with her thumb, as if determined to crush the little bundle of nerves beneath her touch. Your senses were ablaze, every nerve ending alive with pleasure as she skillfully manipulated you to the brink of ecstasy. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, she released her hold, only to rub your clit between her fingers with a deft precision that left you gasping for breath.

You struggled to keep your focus, your resolve weakening with each passing moment. "Rub, rub, rub..." Kafka's voice murmured in your ear, perfectly in sync with her movements.

Your body writhed uncontrollably, caught in the throes of pleasure like a helpless kitten crying out for attention. Soft moans escaped your lips, each one a testament to the overwhelming sensations coursing through every fiber of your being. Your toes curled involuntarily, your entire being consumed by the exquisite torture Kafka subjected you to.

"Little master, I told you to watch yourself." Kafka's voice rang out, firm and unwavering when she noticed you closing your eyes, trying to block out some of the pleasure. The strings around your neck tightened, eliciting a groan of both pleasure and frustration from deep within your throat. With effort, you forced your eyes open, meeting your reflection with half-lidded eyes, your gaze glazed over with lust and desire.

"I can't... this is..." you attempted to protest, but coherent thoughts eluded you, lost amidst the overwhelming ecstasy that Kafka's skilled fingers invoked. She worked with precision and expertise, her fingers deftly rubbing your clit before catching it between her fingers to deliver gentle pinches and pulls that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through your entire body.

It was too much... too much... toomuch... too– "Kafka... nngh!" you cried out, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you, your pussy clenching around nothing as you released a torrent of arousal, splattering the mirror and mattress with your cum.

"More, little master... give me more!" Kafka urged and without pause, she continued her relentless assault, plunging two fingers deep within you with her free hand while simultaneously continuing to rub and tease your clit, driving you to new heights of ecstasy with each passing moment.

As your body surrendered to the overwhelming waves of pleasure, you melted into Kafka's lap, a puddle of ecstasy and desire. Each climax seemed to fuel the next, sending you spiraling into a frenzy of pleasure induced delirium. Drool escaped your parted lips, mingling with the tears of bliss that streaked your flushed cheeks.

"Can't order me to stop, little master?" Kafka's taunting words only added to the intoxicating mix, her grin a wicked challenge to your authority, knowing full well the extent of your vulnerability in this moment of ecstasy.

Kafka tilted your head gently, her touch bringing a sense of comfort amidst the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you. Her gentle smile calmed your senses as she leaned in, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. You moaned into her mouth as her long tongue explored every corner of your warm mouth.

Even as she kissed you, Kafka's fingers continued their relentless assault on your quivering pussy, her thumb rubbing your swollen clit with just the right amount of pressure to send waves of ecstasy. With her other hand, she teased and taunted your nipple, rolling it between her fingers with gentle force.

The intensity of the pleasure was almost unbearable, every touch sending you spiraling further into ecstasy as you squirmed weakly beneath her touch. But Kafka held you firmly in place with her strings, ensuring that you remained completely at her mercy.

"My master... how about belonging solely to me?" Kafka whispered against your lips as she pulled away, her voice laced with desire and possessiveness. "How about I get rid of those silly demons trying to get your attention from me?" Her wicked grin sent shivers down your spine as she licked and bit your lip sensually.

You shook your head slowly, tears welling up in your eyes as you gazed at Kafka with a mixture of longing and fear. You didn't want them to fight, after all. "No..." you managed to mumble, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing.

Kafka's gaze softened at your response, a hint of understanding in her eyes as she leaned in to kiss you once more, her hunger evident in the way she hungrily sucked on your tongue before pulling away. "Is that a command or a request?" she teased, her breath hot against your skin as she resumed her relentless assault on your senses.

"I get it... as long as you surrender to every one of my desires every time it's my turn, then everything will be alright." Kafka reassured, her words a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves as she continued to stimulate every inch of your exhausted body.

For hours on end, Kafka held you captive, her skilled hands and tongue expertly navigating every inch of your trembling form. From your clit to your pussy, and even to your perky nipples, no part of you escaped her relentless pursuit of pleasure. Your mind that was already teetering on the edge of sanity, eventually succumbed to the overwhelming sensations, shutting down completely under the weight of the ecstasy that engulfed you.

With a satisfied smirk, Kafka finally released her hold on your unconscious body, allowing you to collapse onto the bed beneath you. The marks left by her strings served as a stark reminder of the power she wielded over you.

"My weak little master." Kafka's voice was a soft murmur, laced with amusement and possessiveness. "I will spend every second of my scheduled day with you. I will not waste any time." With a predatory glint in her eyes, she positioned herself between your legs, her long tongue poised and ready to taste the remnants of your climax.

"Time for my meal..."

JINGLIU

"Slowly, human... no need to take it all." Jingliu's voice was cold, a command laced with amusement as you knelt between her legs, her fingers threading through your hair with a gentle yet firm touch, you felt a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins.

The weight of her thick length against your lips sent a thrill of excitement tingling down your spine, and you eagerly began to lick and suckle at the engorged head, savoring every drop of precum that oozed from the slit.

A low, guttural moan escaped your lips as you lavished attention upon her, your tongue dancing along every ridge and vein, your mouth eager to make her feel good. Jingliu observed you with a smirk, her gaze filled with a mixture of desire and amusement as she reclined, basking in the pleasure of your ministrations.

"So eager..." she murmured, her fingers tracing patterns on your scalp in a gentle caress, silently encouraging you to continue. Her gentle gestures never failed to ignite a fervent desire within you, urging you to please her in every way possible.

Driven by a desire to please this devil, you opened your mouth wide, your tongue swirling around the tip of her length as you attempted to take her whole. But the sheer girth of her hard cock proved too much to handle, and you found yourself choking on her thickness.

Jingliu's reaction was swift and decisive. With a grunt of disapproval, she pushed you away, her gaze piercing through you. "Foolish human..." she sighed, her voice tinged with disappointment. "Do you really wish to take all of me in?" Her hand gently tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet her penetrating gaze.

"I want to..." you responded eagerly, your voice barely above a whisper, your desire evident in every word as you licked your lips, savoring the taste of her cock that lingered on your tongue.

Jingliu couldn't help but chuckle at your fervent enthusiasm, a smirk dancing across her lips as she stood up from her seat, her gaze fixed on you with a hunger that mirrored your own. Without hesitation, she reached out and grabbed your face, her touch both possessive and commanding.

"Then I will help you..." her smirk widened as if she had been anticipating this moment. With deliberate movements, Jingliu positioned herself in front of you, her throbbing cock in hand as she pressed it against your parted lips, urging you to open up. Without hesitation, you complied, your mouth welcoming her with eager anticipation.

"Your wishes are my command, no matter how absurd it is." With a firm grip on your chin, Jingliu guided her length into your mouth, each inch met with resistance as she carefully eased her way in. You could feel the weight of her arousal filling your mouth, stretching your it to your limits.

She continued to push herself deeper into your mouth, eliciting a slight gag reflex from you. But despite the discomfort, the overwhelming sensation of being filled by her was enough to send shivers of pleasure coursing through your entire body.

With a tight grip on Jingliu's hips, you held on for dear life as she guided her length deeper into your mouth, her hand still firmly planted on your chin. Her other hand caressed your head, offering a comforting touch amidst the overwhelming sensations.

"Good, just a little more..." Jingliu whispered, her voice a husky murmur that sent shivers down your spine. Soft groans escaped her lips as she felt your tongue tracing every inch of her inside your mouth, your ministrations driving her to the brink of ecstasy.

Gasping for air, you looked up at Jingliu with needy eyes, silently begging for more. She looked at you with an amused grin and without warning, Jingliu tightened her grip on the back of your head, pushing the remainder of her length into your warm mouth until your eyes nearly rolled back in your head from the sheer intensity of the sensation. You felt impossibly full, stretched to your limits as her girth tested the boundaries of your endurance.

Your throat rebelled against the intrusion, instinctively attempting to push her length away, but Jingliu held you firmly in place. "Do not spit it out." she ordered, her voice firm and unwavering as she observed the tears welling up in your eyes from the strain of taking her girth.

You obediently swallowed every drop of Jingliu's arousal, your throat working to accommodate the intrusion as you moaned around her, the sound muffled by the thickness of her cock. Jingliu remained still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the sensation, her gaze fixed on your face with a mixture of amusement and admiration.

"A human so delicate yet so greedy..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she caressed your cheek, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin as she admired the sight of your mouth stuffed full of her cock. Despite the overwhelming fullness, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at her words, eager to please her in any way you could.

With a soft sigh, Jingliu pulled back slightly, granting you a moment to catch your breath before slowly pushing back in. She repeated the process, each movement calculated to avoid overwhelming you as she gradually increased the intensity of her thrusts. Her hand tangled in your hair, guiding you as you gagged around her, the sensation both exhilarating and humbling.

"Good, good... just keep taking it." she cooed, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she leaned back in pleasure. With each thrust, you clung to her girth, your mouth eagerly sucking her in, desperate to please her.

Jingliu's groans of pleasure only served to fuel your own desire, the sight of her closing her eyes in blissful abandon a testament to the pleasure you were providing her. Despite the strain on your throat and the tears stinging your eyes, you found yourself reveling in the pleasure.

As Jingliu continued to use your mouth for her pleasure, you couldn't ignore the relentless throbbing between your legs, the wetness dripping down your inner thighs a testament to your own arousal. Every thrust of her cock into your mouth only intensified your desire for her, fueling the burning need to feel her deep inside you, filling your tight walls and spilling her cum within you.

Sensing your desperate yearning, Jingliu's eyebrows narrowed in a predatory gaze, her grip on your head tightening as she manipulated you like a toy, bobbing your head back and forth with rough movements.

Her thick head repeatedly hit the back of your throat, eliciting cries and choked gasps from you, but you made no attempt to pull away, eagerly accepting everything she had to give.

"Those eyes... if you keep looking at me like that..." Jingliu trailed off, her voice thick with desire as she buried herself to the hilt, shooting thick ropes of cum into your throat with a loud grunt. As she pulled out, she sprayed the remaining cum onto your pretty face, her hand stroking herself as she breathed heavily.

As Jingliu tried to catch her breath, her cock twitched in the aftermath of her release, droplets of her essence falling to the floor in a silent cascade. Unable to resist the allure of her throbbing length, you leaned in without hesitation, your hand wrapping around her shaft as you took the tip into your mouth.

You sucked and licked at the slit, savoring every drop of her precious release, unwilling to let a single drop go to waste. Jingliu's eyebrows narrowed in a mixture of surprise and satisfaction as she watched you, a sigh escaping her lips at the sensation of your mouth on her cock.

"You... truly are a bottomless pit of pleasure," Jingliu murmured, her voice tinged with amusement and desire. "I have been too soft on you, it seems. Perhaps breaking you thoroughly will keep you satisfied... for once." Her smirk was both playful and predatory, she added with a sigh, a hint of regret coloring her words as she realized the extent of your insatiable desire.

"Should I go all out, human? Should I break you?" Jingliu's voice echoed in the air, a challenge hanging between you like a heavy cloak of anticipation. The desire to see Jingliu go rough on you and dominating you had always lingered in the back of your mind. She had always treated you with care and caution, treating you like a fragile glass that might shatter at the slightest touch.

"Command me to destroy you..." Jingliu urged, her smirk widening as she grabbed your face, her eyes ablaze with insanity. The devilish nature within her seemed to take hold, driving her to crave nothing more than to break you, to mold you into a being that would accept only her will.

Taking a deep breath, you met Jingliu's gaze with determined eyes, the intensity of your desire matching the fervor in hers. "Don't hold back, Jingliu... do what you want to me." you mumbled, your voice a whispered command as you caressed her cheek.

She leaned into your touch as a wicked grin spread across her lips. Jingliu accepted your command, acknowledging you as her master with a hunger that burned deep within her. In one swift motion, she grabbed you, pulling you up to stand before her, her strength evident as she pushed you against the wall with a force that left you breathless.

"Master... master..." Jingliu murmured, her voice a low growl of desire as she licked a trail along your neck, her tongue tracing the contours of your skin with relentless hunger. Her arm wrapped possessively around your waist, pulling you close to her as her other hand gripped her throbbing cock, aligning it with your slick entrance.

"I will train your body to accept me... no matter how rough." she whispered, her voice laced with a promise of pleasure and pain as she pressed the head of her cock into your tight, quivering entrance.

A soft moan escaped your lips as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate her girth, clinging onto her for dear life as she filled you with every inch of her thick cock. Jingliu groaned in ecstasy as she felt your tightness surrounding her, her grip on your hips tightening to keep you steady as she slowly sank deeper into your welcoming heat.

With one final, powerful thrust, Jingliu bottomed out inside you with a grunt, her body pressed tightly against yours as she pinned you against the wall. Every inch of her cock filled you completely, stretching your tight walls to their limit as you struggled to catch your breath amidst the overwhelming sensation of being completely dominated.

Your body trembled with anticipation as Jingliu wasted no time, she pulled back before thrusting back in, setting a relentless pace that left you gasping for air. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, your tight walls clenching and unclenching around her cock in a desperate attempt to accommodate her relentless onslaught.

Starting with short, sharp thrusts, Jingliu gradually increased the intensity of her movements, each withdrawal leaving you craving more before she plunged back in with a force that left you reeling. With each thrust, she hit something deep within you, sending waves of pain and ecstasy crashing over you in a dizzying whirlwind of sensation.

Jingliu pounded you against the wall with bruising force, her grip on you unyielding as if afraid you might escape her grasp. The sound of your moans mingled with her grunts, filling the room with the symphony of your shared desire as the echo of flesh meeting flesh reverberated off the walls.

As you cried out in pleasure and writhed against the wall, your knees growing weak from the intensity of Jingliu's relentless assault, she noticed your struggles and seized one of your legs, lifting it up with a strength that left you feeling utterly exposed. With your leg held high in the air, Jingliu continued to plow your dripping hole with long, deep, and fast strokes, driving you to the brink of ecstasy with each relentless thrust.

"Cry all you want, master... we're just starting." Jingliu chuckled, her voice dripping with lust as she gazed at you with eyes full of desire and you found yourself struggling on the edge of consciousness. With one foot tiptoed and the other held high by Jingliu's strong grasp, you clung to her shoulders desperately, the sheer intensity of the sensations threatening to overwhelm your senses. "Cumming..." you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own moans.

In response, Jingliu increased her speed, driving herself deeper and harder into you with each forceful thrust. Waves of pleasure crashed over you as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of release, your body trembling in Jingliu's arms as juices leaked from your hole uncontrollably.

But despite your orgasm, Jingliu showed no signs of slowing down, her movements relentless as she continued to pound you into oblivion. With each thrust, she pushed you closer and closer to the edge, until finally, you felt the dam of pleasure within you break, your body convulsing in ecstasy as you squirted uncontrollably all over the floor beneath.

You shook your head weakly, attempting to push yourself away from Jingliu's relentless thrusts, but she held you closer, her grip unyielding as she locked eyes with you in a fierce glare. "Don't you dare..." she growled, her voice laced with a warning that sent a shiver down your spine.

Jingliu reached for your other leg, lifting you effortlessly off the floor and causing you to instinctively wrap your legs around her waist for support. Without a moment's hesitation, she resumed her hammering of your stretched pussy, the relentless pounding sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your battered body.

A small puddle of cum formed beneath the both of you, evidence of the intense pleasure you were experiencing. Your eyes grew hazy with exhaustion as she continued to ravage you without mercy, her cock filling you to the brim with each powerful thrust as if you were nothing more than a mere plaything for her pleasure.

Hours passed in a blur of sensation, each orgasm blurring into the next until you felt like you were on the verge of collapse. Your limbs grew weak, your mind numb from the relentless onslaught of pleasure, the only sensation you could feel being Jingliu's cock relentlessly pounding into your womb, filling you with her warm cum over and over again.

"Stay awake, master. You have to." Jingliu reminded you, her voice a cold whisper against your lips before she captured your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. As her thrusts gradually slowed down, you felt a sense of relief wash over you, grateful for the brief respite from the intense pleasure that had consumed you for hours on end.

But even as she granted you a short reprieve, you knew that Jingliu had no intention of letting you rest for long. She was planning to stretch every one of your holes until the last minute of her scheduled day with you, determined to claim every inch of your body as her own.

[missqhughes]

JERSEY GIRL | L. HUGHES43

-> luke hughes x fem!reader

-> includes: fluff, use of y/n, lowercase intended

-> IN WHICH: the same guy, the same time, the same block. weirdly coincidental; a part of her excited for the small portion of the day they get to cross paths. little does she know, her new job is for the very team he plays for.

-> everyone’s favorite lukey pookie 😗 i feel like he’s such a sucker for a crush like this. also got some help from @sweetestdesire ! my girl, thank you! as always, love it as much as i do! 💋 part 1

*fic is not proofread

i’m late, i’m late, i’m SO late. y/n thought to herself, cursing her alarm for not going off at the right time.

the morning was rough enough, unopened boxes still scattered around her new apartment, living in a brand new city across the country from her old one.

she tripped over her packages items in a scramble to get ready, rummaging through them to find any semblance of a professional outfit, one that would be okay to wear for her first day.

if being late wasn’t enough, her new job was with the new jersey devils, and she didn’t know shit about hockey. y/n never cared to watch it, didn’t even know how it was played and god knew she couldn’t pick any of the players on the devils out of a crowd; even if she tried.

to say she was shocked about getting a position with them, that was an understatement.

and here she was, speed walking to get to the prudential center on time; fast enough to where she could have maybe a minute to spare if she was lucky, and slow enough to where she didn’t look like a complete lunatic.

turning a corner with her head down, she comes in full contact with a body in front of her, both stepping back and coming in with quick apologies,

“sorry,”

“shit, sorry”

the guy she had ran into looked about her age, tall with a head full of brown curls and in a neat maroon suit.

the interaction happened so fast that when she turned to look back at him, he was far along in his own path.

guessing he’s also in a rush. maybe he works in the finance part of the city.

she pried him out of her mind as soon as she ran through the doors of the prudential center, finding her way to the devil’s office, thankfully, just in time.

she was greeted with handshakes and smiles, talking to a couple of the team managers,

“welcome to the devils, y/n happy to have you here.” she shook hands with the man, controlling her breath and keeping it down that she almost got on all fours to make it there on time.

“happy to be here, thank you,” she smiled,

“for now you’ll just be doing some of the boring stuff. paper work, legal, social, all that kind. you’ll have your own space but feel free to visit around the arena when you’d like. season starts right around the corner, so we want to make sure we’re on our game.”

she nodded her head, nervous about the expectations set on her. y/n wanted to make a good impression on everyone, and set her best foot forward. thankfully no one had asked her anything about hockey yet.

“absolutely, thank you again,”

y/n was lead to her office space, a desk designated with her name plate and a small devils logo next to it. she sat down and adjusted herself, immediately diving into her work, but in the back of her mind the curly haired guy from around the corner was there.

——————————————————————————

today was a little more sane.

y/n still woke up late, but nonetheless now knew what box she put her nice clothes in, slipping on boots and leaving out the door in a nick of time.

she was now able to take in her new city, actually enjoying her walk to work and the bustle around it. in her awe of her surroundings, she bumped into a stranger for a second time.

god, again?

she looked up, apology ready at the mouth, in a slight disbelief at the person in front of her when he spoke,

“sorry about that… again,”

it was the same guy from yesterday, this time sporting a plain black shirt and pants, much more casual than yesterday. he looked really good, just as good as he did in his suit. y/n was able to actually take in his features; plump lips, she could tell he had a nice smile, and lush green eyes that dived into hers.

out of her trance, she felt her cheeks grow hot realizing that she was staring for far too long,

“it’s okay, um, bye.” she stuttered, moving past him, keeping her head down until the embarrassment she felt had died down inside her.

the curly haired boy turned, watching her disappear out of his sight. she was pretty. really pretty. he almost wish he had said something, anything after knocking into her for a second time.

no chance is happens again.

——————————————————————————

god, how does this keep happening?

y/n was running late. again. more late than yesterday and the day before.

the pile of nice clothing was scattered over her room, a result of her sifting and dismissing outfits even though she knew she didn’t have the time to spare.

with almost tripping out the door, she said fuck it, running and almost getting hit by a not so kind mouthed new jersey driver in an intersection.

in her hot pursuit for work, she slowed down at the corner she saw the same guy in. maybe it was a coincidence, but she didn’t want to make it to a third time running into his chest.

her gut feeling correct; his steps seemingly synchronized to hers, stopping a few feet in front of her.

he was sporting a different suit, a crisp navy blue matched with a perfectly patterned tie. today, with the addition of a backpack and headphones.

“good thing i slowed down,” y/n said in a short breath, his lips curling up into a barely noticeable smile,

“glad you did too,” he said, his voice gentle and sweet.

y/n looked down at her watch, groaning lightly when she was reminded of the time,

“shit i have to go, m’sorry,” she mumbled, picking up her pace once she knew he couldn’t see her anymore. she had already been cutting it close the past two days, not wanting to make today she was officially late.

y/n just kept moving, not stopping her pace until she reached the arena, only slowing down once she knew she could, hurling herself into her small corner desk.

it was unfortunate; the past three consecutive days y/n had run into this cute guy, the first one she’s met in the city and she had to run away from him every time, quite literally.

——————————————————————————

it had been 2 days since she had seen the handsome stranger, and it honestly made y/n a bit disappointed.

she’d put on a cuter, spent a little longer to curl her hair, even setting her alarm extra early to leave on time in hopes of seeing him for just that slim moment; maybe this time she’d actually stop talk to him, maybe even ask to get a coffee with her, if she was feeling bold enough.

maybe he started taking the bus, she thought to herself.

y/n sat at her desk, leg bouncing up and down as she stared blankly at the seemingly endless paperwork in front of her. y/n didn’t even feel like she had a job in pro sports, it all felt like the same office job she had before. all but with a nicer apartment and some eye candy she ran in to.

the day felt extra long, her feet ached when she had to drag herself off her desk and to her walk back to her apartment.

once y/n reached her front door, she sighed in relief in slipping off her heels, tossing them aimlessly into her hallway. her shoulders sinking down once she had dropped her things, eagerly walking over to rest on her new white couch.

she had done a good job unpacking over the couple days, only two partially emptied boxes occupying her living room. she felt satisfied, but not completely settled in.

maybe it’s time to make some friends?

——————————————————————————

she didn’t see him the day after either.

she sighed, head in her hand, trying to squeeze the headache out of her temples, eyes tired from staring at the computer for god knows how long.

y/n’s posture fixed when she heard 3 knocks on the wall, she swiveled her chair, met with the smiling face of the head coach; appropriately wearing a devils jacket and hat to pair.

“y/n, right?”

“hi, yes, that’s me. how are you?” she smiled, standing up to give him a firm handshake.

“doing well, thank you. jus to let you know, the players are doing some media work right now, tom wanted you to introduce yourself to them. get familiar with the team before the first couple games.”

y/n cheered internally, finally something to do other than feel her eyes melt watching a screen all day.

“sounds good, i’ll be down there soon.”

he shook her hand again with a smile before leaving the room. y/n closed up the last bit of work she was doing, and made her way down to the ice.

the players were in their red practice jerseys, some making videos with the media team and others skating around the ice casually, talking amongst each other.

the atmosphere was nice to her, a couple of the players saying hi and introducing themselves. but everything seemed to stop when y/n made eye contact with a familiar face.

no way.

it couldn’t be.

he seemed to have the exact same expression on his face as her, equally in shock and now oblivious to the conversation happening in front of him.

y/n felt like she was dreaming, that she was going to be shaken back into reality, that her brain was just convincing herself that he was there when he actually wasn’t.

but no, no matter how much she blinked, or dug her nails into her palms, there he was.

she felt awkward again, realizing she had been staring at him for the nth time since they’ve crossed paths, spinning to find someone else to converse with instead of peering into his soul.

behind her back, he was still in awe, unable to tear his gaze away from her.

“yeah, and then i was like… luke, dude, are you even listening?”

“what jack? oh, yeah i’m listening,” he said, an obvious lie, not paying any amount of attention to him.

jack looked around to see what could possibly cause luke to be so occupied, and then he saw y/n; sneaking little side glances and lightly eyeing him up and down.

he chuckled, “lukey’s got a crush on the new girl huh? why don’t you go say something instead of staring like a creep.”

“shut up, i was not staring,” luke said, hitting him on the shoulder with a tint of pink brushing on his cheeks with his denial. “it’s just… i saw her at the same time and place like 3 days in a row. it was weird, and she was always in a rush. didn’t know in a rush to come here though.” he kept his voice low, scared she could somehow overhear them.

“then just call it fate and say something, please, i cant keep watching this.”

“no way i’m doing that.”

“okay fine, then i will,”

luke’s eyes went wide for a moment, jack calling out over to where she was heads turning but he was waving y/n over.

she felt her ears ringing, almost feeling embarrassed about the whole thing, like it was some secret they had and now she was exposed to everyone.

y/n stopped in front of them, hands in her pockets to control the shaking, facing the two; one with the biggest smile on his face and the other ready to pass out.

“i’m jack, this is my brother luke,” the smiley one said, his blue eyes shining as he used his thumb to point to luke, the name to the handsome stranger.

jack held out his hand to shake hers, nudging luke slightly to do the same, y/n’s hand lingering on luke’s a little longer, feeling an electricity in her body as soon as their hands touched.

“nice to meet you, i’m y/n.”

luke probably repeated her name about 100 times in his head, everything happening in front of him causing a buzzing in his stomach. he smiled formed lightly, taking all of her in.

“so, two brothers in the nhl, your parents must be really proud,”

“actually our-”

“our older brother plays for as well, so, yeah, there’s three of us, yeah” luke spat out nervously, his sentencing jumbling so fast that the words barely got out.

jack internally face palmed, embarrassed at his brother’s lack of game. he was shocked it was working, y/n keeping the conversation going with him with a grin on her face.

“oh look, curtis is calling me over, don’t wait up you two,” jack pat his brother on the back, giving her a wink before jogging away.

with him gone, they both stood there for a second, swallowed in silence.

“i cant believe you play for the devils,” y/n said breathlessly, before she was able to swallow her shock, but seeing him now wasn’t just a coincidence; it couldn’t be.

“i cant believe you work for us,” luke said, a dopey smile still stuck on his face,

“i didn’t think i’d see you again, i thought those few couple times were just coincidence.”

“i didn’t think so either, but hey look at those odds,”

y/n’s heart kept skipping beat after beat; no one having this kind of effect on her in a long time, but she wasn’t mad about it.

“so, y/n… areyoudoinganythingafterwork?” he mumbled, face turning bright red after his incoherent words.

her brows slightly furrowed in confusion, “am i what?”

he inhaled deeply, green eyes bouncing between her gaze, “are you doing anything… after work? if not it’s totally fine i was just curious,”

y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his rambling, how nervous she didn’t realize she made him and was absolutely loving every second of it.

“i’m not doing anything after work, luke,” y/n smiled, her heart beating at a better rhythm than it had since she’s been in jersey.

“cool, yeah we should definitely do something,”

“show me around the city?”

“you just moved here?” luke was surprised, not expecting someone who just moved to the area to be working for the nhl.

“yes,” y/n scratched the back of her head, “it’s been hectic, still a few boxes left at my apartment to unpack,”

“well then, i’ll show you around the city. can i get your number? how’s 6:00 sound?” luke fidgeted with his fingers, studying her face with his phone in her hand, lighting up when he saw her name saved in his contacts.

“6:00, i’ll text you my address. don’t be late,” she chirped,

“wouldn’t dream of it,” luke smiled, waving her off while shuffling away, his brown curls slightly bouncing with every step, the back of his jersey reading “hughes” with the number 43.

luke hughes. hm. definitely looking him up later.

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[incognit0slut]

Dance with the devil

Spencer reassures Reader that sex toys are his ally rather than his enemy. Based on:

warning: 18+ explicit content—toys, edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia, and unprotected sex; words: 3.7k

a/n: fun fact, had this prompt for more than a month but I finished it in one day. Kind of rushed, so I don't know if it's any good, to be honest

MASTERLIST

“…you picked a dance with the devil and you lucked out…”

SPENCER WAS A GOOD BOY—she meant that in the most innocent, non-sexual way possible. Her boyfriend was the epitome of manners, a gentleman in every sense of the word. He was kind and considerate, and even when he might not be in the greatest mood, he still had a way of being thoughtful and respectful to his peers.

Yet beneath his angelic, good-boy behavior, she was certain there was a part of him possessed by the devil.

Like now, for instance, there was nothing angelic about the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. It was a smile she had never seen before, a smile that seemed to hold a deeper meaning as if he had a certain agenda waiting to be carried out at the back of his head. His smile was so cunning that it was starting to unsettle her, and the more she stared at him, the more it looked eerie.

And the worst thing of it all, she was the reason he was acting this way. She was the reason why he abruptly stopped what he was about to say the moment he stepped into their shared bedroom. She was the reason why he was now standing by the door looking like he was about to commit something sinister.

Because right under the dim light of the room, his eyes were trained between her legs.

So this was what it felt like being caught red-handed doing something no one was supposed to see. Y/n had always made sure nobody knew this side of her, especially not her long-term and committed boyfriend who knew nothing of what she often did when he was traveling for work. He didn't know what went on each time she was alone without him, what she had to do to keep herself satisfied when he wasn't around.

Sudden waves of nerves coursed through her body as she felt her heart pounding wildly in her chest. It felt as if she was caught cheating. Well, if having a pink silicone vibrator nestled between her thighs was actually considered cheating. Maybe it was. Maybe not. But whatever it might be, the look on his face did not seem good.

"I-I can explain." She slowly sat up, her hand letting go of her precious toy while the other hand grabbed onto her shirt, fixing it slightly as it ruffled around her waist.

Her nervousness intensified as he slowly approached her. His steps were deliberate, and measured, but there was something disconcerting about the way he moved. A faint smile played upon his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, as he drew closer, and the sinister undertone of his expression became more clear. Her heart hammered in her chest, not knowing whether to interpret his smile as a friendly gesture or a warning sign. The room seemed to close in around them and the atmosphere grew thick with tension as he slowly climbed onto the bed, the bed sinking beneath his weight.

"Spence?"

He simply looked up at her but remained silent. His smile remained unchanged, a mask that concealed his true intentions. She desperately wished he would at least speak. She fidgeted uncomfortably, her nerves fraying at the edges as she waited for him to break the silence.

And then suddenly, and deliberately slow, she saw him picking up her vibrator which had laid forgotten by her feet. She could feel the warmth spreading along her cheeks as he examined it, turning it over his hand as if it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

The tension in the room was almost unbearable as he finally broke the silence. She braced herself for his words, her pulse quickening, her nerves on edge. But what he said was far from what she had expected.

With an unsettling calmness, he uttered, "You know, I've always wondered what they looked like."

His unexpected words hung in the air. While she wasn't sure of his true intentions, it appeared that he wasn't expressing anger or displeasure, which was entirely different than how she had imagined him to react. "W-wait, you're not mad?"

"Because you use this? No," he admitted, still examining the long, pink device, intrigued by its shape as he studied the curved end. "But I am disappointed that you had to keep it a secret from me."

Her mind raced, searching for the right words to respond. "I didn't want to hurt your feelings." When he simply flashed a confused look, she explained, "Some men don't like it when their partner gets off using something else that isn't them."

"Let me guess. What you meant by some men, you meant your exes."

"A few of them, yes."

He smiled again. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not one of them then."

Her eyes glazed over him with uncertainty, her words coming out in a hesitant whisper. "So... you're not mad?"

His smile remained, though it seemed to shift subtly as he shook his head slowly. "No, not at all," he replied, his tone still calm and measured. "I'm more curious, actually."

Her brow furrowed in response. "Curious?"

"Mh-hmm." Then his eyes went back to the device, discovering a small button on the bottom. Curiosity got the better of him and he pressed it, his eyes widening slightly as it vibrated in his hand. He clicked on the upper button, his brows shooting upwards when the vibration intensified. "I didn't know it has a lot of settings."

Her cheeks burned with a deep flush. What was happening? Was he really finding her vibrator interesting? And when she thought things couldn't get worse, her stomach flipped when he turned it over again, the evidence of her arousal coating the end of her toy glistening under the light.

Dear god, couldn't the floor just open up and swallow her whole?

He then surprised her with his next words.

"Lay down for me."

His unexpected request took her completely off guard. Her eyes widened, her heart raced even faster, and her embarrassment transformed into sheer bewilderment.

"Lay down," he repeated, his voice sounding more firm and commanding.

His tone left her with little room for hesitation. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest, and she slowly lowered herself to the bed, her apprehension mounting with each passing moment.

Above her, Spencer fumbled with the buttons again, figuring out the mechanics of what they do, and when he was done figuring out how the toy worked, he powered it on to the lowest setting and looked at her expectantly. The tension in the room intensified to an almost unbearable level as she watched him push her knees apart.

"W-What are you doing?" She gasped, the cold air hitting her exposed skin.

"Continuing where you left off."

Then suddenly, and without warning, he pressed the vibrator directly to her clit. Her eyes rolled back in both shock and pleasure as a humiliatingly high-pitched squeal escaped out of her slack-jawed mouth.

It was set to the lowest vibration option, but she had been playing with herself before this. And now with Spencer doing the work, pressing her toy right against her already wet folds, she was already squirming beneath him. The buzzing became higher in pitch as he went up one set, and the sensation became too much to handle.

"This is fun," he whispered. His thumb briefly brushed over her clit, causing her to gasp, and he breathed out a quiet laugh before pressing the vibrator against her once more. The pleasure was starting to increase every time he moved the toy around her, rubbing it back and forth vertically in quick motions.

"You know what would be more fun?" He answered his own question by moving the toy above her clit, and with one swift motion, not one, but two of his fingers plunged into her. Her back arched at the double sensation, mouth hanging open as he curled his fingers inside her while the vibrator pressed against her clit.

Her legs shook violently to the simulation and Spencer saw the way her body trembled, noticing the sign of her climax coming in close. Seeing her thighs quiver set off a hunger in him, a desire for her to surrender completely to his command. He wanted to see her melt into nothingness. He wanted to see her lose herself in pleasure.

Grunting, he adjusted his fingers inside her, containing their thrusts as his other hand turned the vibration higher. The vibration heightened her senses. It was becoming harder to suppress her mewls as the pressure became more intense as she closed her eyes, throwing her head back, feeling the intensity grow.

She was so close he could feel her clenching around his fingers, and with a devious grin, he increased the vibrations once more. She cried out his name as the pressure kept building. Her mind was spinning. Her body was at its breaking point.

"I-I'm gonna—"

He turned off the toy and pulled his fingers out. Her eyes snapped open.

"Wha..." she looked at him with half-lidded eyes, her chest heaving frantically. "W-Why did you stop?"

He smiled at the sight before him. Her skin was sweltering against her shirt, sweat damped on her forehead and neck, her thighs were apart, and a vibrator stuck between her legs, sleek with her arousal. "We're just getting started."

And then he grabbed onto her last piece of clothing and helped her pull it over her head. Her taught nipples greeted him and his skin brushed against them, his wide hands softly squeezing her breasts as his thumb circled around the nub.

"So beautiful," he praised, his eyes traveling down her body, legs spread open for him to enjoy. Her sex was throbbing from his teasing, and it took him a lot of self-control not to bury himself deep inside her right at that moment. Instead, he leaned back and unbuttoned his dress shirt, his eyes never leaving hers as he slowly slipped off his clothes.

His pants were next, then came off his briefs, and then there he was again, back in between her legs wearing nothing but a smirk on his lips as her eyes focused on his hard length resting against his thighs. He hummed in satisfaction at the look she was giving him, and because she looked so damn irresistible, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his in a slow, lazy kiss.

He tasted every inch of her, his tongue colliding against hers hungrily, getting lost in the sweet taste of her before pulling away, a string of saliva stretching between their parted lips. Her chest heaved as she watched him grab onto her vibrator again, and with that cunning smile curled at the corner of his lips, he placed the toy against her mouth.

"Suck," he commanded.

She looked at him hesitantly, but beneath his penetrating gaze, she slowly wrapped her lips around the pink silicone. Her tongue danced around it, tasting the initial burst of her own arousal. Her eyes looked up to him as her cheeks hollowed slightly with each gentle suck before he pulled it out of her mouth.

"Good girl," he grunted, sliding the toy down her body, leaving a wet trail along her skin. "Never knew you can take orders so well." His other hand then gently brushed her inner thighs. "Let's continue again, shall we?"

His fingers pressed against her sex before spreading her lips apart, leaning down to spit directly in between them. She felt his saliva make contact down her body, and her back arched just in time for him to push the toy into her, sliding it so effortlessly between her swollen lips.

It vibrated inside her as he clicked the button, the sensation traveling along her body as her fingers gripped onto the sheets. Spencer watched as she squirmed beneath him. He watched as the device disappeared inside her, her arousal pooling down her thighs, drenching the bed underneath them.

"You're making such a mess," he mused between his constant teasing, thrusting the vibrator into her. "Are you always this wet while using this?"

She shook her head helplessly. "N-No," her voice came out as a needy whine while his fingers slid around the toy, pulling her lips apart to get a better view.

"This is all for me then?" He pushed in deeper, satisfied with the way her body was reacting. "How did I get so lucky?"

The noises her body was making were so lewd. The way he was thrusting the toy inside her had her gasping for air, her head turning side to side against the pillow as the coil in her stomach tightened. Her eyes glanced between them, and the sight of her swollen sex being teased to the point she wondered if this was torture. The lines between pleasure and pain were starting blur.

"You're close again, aren't you?" She wasn't sure how she managed to respond to him, but she did, bobbing her head up and down. "Too bad I'm not going to let you."

He pulled out the vibrator from her and she whined at the sudden emptiness. "Please," she whispered, her voice almost a breath, a prayer, and a plea all in one. 

"Oh, you're begging now?" He gazed down at her, his eyes mirroring the hunger that had consumed her. "You are desperate." He watched as she bucked her hips against nothing, desperately searching for friction. "Be a good girl for me and hold it."

He then pressed the vibrator against her clit with its highest speed, circling over it ever so slightly, before sinking it back inside her almost roughly.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "Baby, I-I can't."

"Hold it," he ordered. "Don't come until I give you my permission."

Her breath quickened as she tried to focus on controlling her body, but it was too much, too fucking much that she found her eyes watering from her restrain. He noticed the small teardrops had now welled up and spilled over, streaming over her cheeks. Her thick, delicate lashes stuck together as she tried to bat the tears away.

"You're crying now?" He muttered, fascinated at her reaction.

He shouldn't have felt good about this, it was such a disgusting thought to actually take pleasure in seeing the tears run down her face. But she was gorgeous when she cried, almost angelic. Her glassed irises and furrowed brows bring about an innocence to her that she didn't always show. It was hard to feel bad for when she looked this fucking pretty while she sobbed.

"Spencer, please," she pleaded, her voice sounding more like a strangle than a moan.

"Hold it. You're going to come when I tell you to come."

"N-No," she cried, her body convulsing as the pleasure took her body. There was nothing left to feel than the urge to embrace her long-awaited release. "Please, please, please."

"Shhh," he whispered, his other free hand wiping away the tear escaping from the corner of her eye. "Just a little longer."

"Spence, I-I don't think I can."

He also didn't think he could hold any longer. But he be damned if he didn't wait another few seconds when she looked so good writhing underneath him, gasping his name desperately like a prayer on her lips.

"Tell me what you need." When she didn't respond, too busy focusing on controlling her breath and the sensation building up in her stomach, he urged on, "Come on, beg for it."

A strangled whimper ripped through her body.

"Please, please," her words come out muffled as she trembled from the way he was pressing the toy deeper into her. It felt good, so fucking good, but she wanted to feel him. She needed to feel his skin against hers so badly. "I need you inside me, please."

He groaned and pulled the toy out of her before lining up his cock between her slit, gasping in pleasure when he slowly pushed himself into her. Her vision blurred until she couldn't distinguish her surroundings. His hand fell to her stomach, where he could, undoubtedly, feel the head of his cock nudging one of her internal organs. She felt extremely full as she endured the pressure of him inside her. 

"Fuck, baby," she breathed out. "Please."

He took no time to move, leaning forward and prompting himself with his arms on either side of her head. His hips began thrusting into her wildly, desperately, deranged in his need. Everything was all-consuming for her as her whole body burned from the way his cock slammed into her, each thrust filling her walls until she was nothing but a whining mess, begging for release.

Her whines seemed to push him further, praise falling from his lips as her hips trembled beneath his relentless pace. Her walls spasmed around him, clinging tightly to his shaft as the coil in her snapped. Then he moved forward and that particular move earned a yelp from her. He pushed forward with deep, powerful strokes, circling and angling down to hit that fleshy, soft patch buried too far for his fingers or her toy could reach. 

He gasped when he felt her walls clenching around him hard. She was panting, looking at him with desperate need and it was then he finally decided to give her what she had been begging for.

"Go on, come for me, sweet girl," he groaned as she devolved into incoherent sounds.

She finally came with a cry—loud, intense, and desperate. She came while her body shook, her legs trembling, and her lips hanging open in ecstasy as the sensation overwhelmed her over and over again. And when she thought she was done, he never slowed down his movements. Instead, he thrust faster into her, the wet sound of skin hitting against skin filling the room.

She wasn't capable of controlling herself anymore now, wanting to touch something but she was too weak from all the pleasure, so weak she could barely move her limbs, let alone make an intentional, concerted effort to grab onto a part of him.

So her mouth, hanging open in a heavy pant, was the next best option. She turned her head and leaned into his forearms, bracing him and holding him up above her. Giving him that leverage that let him thrust into her so deeply. And then her brain went blurry. Empty, save for the pleasure burning in her body and the humming of his name repeating over and over like a mantra.

She pressed her open mouth against his skin, breathing raggedly in some form of relief, her tongue gliding over his sweat-salted skin as she felt the muscle contract underneath. She dragged her lips side to side, drooling almost as he thrust deep into her. She groaned against his arm as her eyes rolled deep back into her head.

"You're still coming, aren't you?" Spencer asked above her, humor evident in his voice although she was beyond the point of comprehension.

But she managed to nod her head absently, lips mashing against his skin, and heard his laughter in her ears. "That's it. You're doing so well."

The sounds uncontrollably coming out of her were lewd and disgusting, mostly incoherent, but she didn't feel any shame anymore. All she cared about was the feeling of him so deep inside, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. She was such a mess, she knew that. All sweat and tears, all desperate and eager. 

"You're so tight," he grunted, his movements growing sloppy as he began to feel the tightness in his stomach. "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

And then he leaned down and hovered above her, his lips brushing against hers but not quite kissing her. "Please," he mumbled against her open mouth, and she couldn't tell if he was begging for forgiveness or for permission.

Spencer couldn't think anymore. Nothing coherent, at least. His senses were drowning in everything that was her. Her scent, her skin, her breath. He then hit that spot inside her, so incredibly warm around him, and he clasped his eyes tightly as his pleasure faded into a glowing heat spreading inside her body. He grunted into her open mouth, giving her everything he could offer while she accepted everything she could take.

He finally collapsed on top of her as he breezed through his release, endorphins surging through his veins. Y/n pressed a hand to his cheek and his eyes fluttered open, slightly pushing himself up to stare into her eyes.

"Was I too much?" He barely whispered.

"...no," she managed to gasp out, still trying to calm her pulse.

"Good."

Then he sat back up and moved his hips back before thrusting forward again. She looked at him in bewilderment as she watched him grab her toy, pressing it back between their still joint bodies.

She was dumbfounded. Stunned. Astonished. There were not enough synonyms in the dictionary to describe how flabbergasted she was now. And suddenly she thought of all the good traits he had, all the good words and praises people had always described him to be.

He's so smart and kind.

He's the most thoughtful person.

He can be such an angel.

She wanted to laugh. It was more likely that she was dancing with the devil now.

"What?" He whispered, that cunning smile of his creeping back on his face. "Did you think I was done?"

Her body started to squirm again. Spencer had always been a good boy—just not for tonight.

.

.

oneshots taglist

@simpingforharryandcevans @strawbeerossi @lightvixxen @dim-i-try @annabellexox @baby-banana @nataratacat @wolfbeanpotion @nagemasstuff @alexander-arcturus-black @rosieee491 @s00dastereo @no-honey-no

PLEASE READ: If any of you asked me to be added and you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I could see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can't tag you. Thank you :)

Don’t forget to interact with the story!

[theemporium]

Hii!! May I request 💜 violet fluff number 37 for Luke hughes? Maybe he gets injured in a game and the pain meds he’s put on have him begging for reader to continue playing with his hair as it brings him a comfort?

(btw I love your writing it’s always so so good and when I see your page it always brings a smile to my face <3)

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

37. “You should play with my hair some more."

.

All things considered, the hit could have caused a lot more damage. 

It was a dirty hit, a nasty one that had the whole Devils bench exploding with complaints when the referees had only given the other guy a two minute minor. Luke hadn’t even been allowed to play the rest of the period or the rest of the game for precautionary reasons, instead taken straight to medical to do a full evaluation. 

Nothing was broken but his shoulder was a little roughed up and it hurt like a bitch right now—a pain the doctors assured would ease in the next few days. The doctors had prescribed some strong painkillers to help ease the pain and allow enough relief for Luke to rest tonight. 

Painkillers that seemed a lot more that strong if the boy’s current state was anything to go by. 

“You’re really pretty,” Luke sighed as he turned his head to look at you with a goofy smile. “Like, reaaaaaally pretty.” 

“I know, baby,” you grinned back at him. “You’ve only told me a hundred times in the last ten minutes.” 

He frowned. “That’s not enough. I should tell you more.” 

You snorted, shaking your head. “Those painkillers are really hitting you, aren’t they?” 

“Mhm,” he hummed, nodding his head. “Feel really good right now.” 

“Oh, I bet,” you mused as you reached towards him, pushing some of his curls out of his face and pushing them back. 

“Wanna go home,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut as you continued to run your fingers through his hair. “Can we go home now?” 

“Five more minutes, babe,” you assured him, your nails lightly stretching along his scalp as he let out a noise of contentment. Almost like a cat. You had to bite back your laugh at the thought. “Jack is gonna bring the car around so you don’t have to walk too much.” 

“That’s nice of him,” Luke mumbled, his cheek pressed against the pillow as he gave up keeping his eyes open. 

“Gotta stay up for me,” you murmured as you pulled your hand away, lightly stroking his cheek instead but the boy just whined in response. 

“No, why did you stop?” His words were slurred together as he blinked his eyes open, frowning up at you.

“I don’t want you falling asleep right now,” you told him in a soft voice, smiling a little when he leaned his cheek into your hand. “We still need to get home and I don’t think me and Jack will be able to carry you the whole way.” 

“I’ve seen how much he can lift, he’ll be fine,” Luke huffed out in response, slowly blinking as he yawned a little. “You’re going against doctor’s orders.” 

You raised your brows in amusement. “Am I now?” 

“Mhm, the doctor told me what I needed to feel better so you should listen to me,” Luke said, his eyes hooded and tired. “You should play with my hair some more. It’s the quickest road to recovery.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “Well, if the doctor said so…” 

“S’the first thing he learnt in school,” Luke told you, only to be interrupted by a yawn.

“You’re so lucky Jack isn’t here to hear this,” you murmured as you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead before returning your fingers to his hair. “He would never let you live any of this down.”

.

[thetxtdevil]

if you haven’t already, can you write morning sex with beomgyu or yeonjun pretty please ?

mmm morning sex 😌... and how dare you make me choose between the two

--nsfw--

Yeonjun

Your body enveloped in soft blankets along with Yeonjun's chest against your back, soft yet muscular arms wrapped around your waist. He holds you like a kid with his plushie, there was no way of escaping his comfort. You lay there enjoying the warmth of the sun, relaxing with the calming waves of Yeonjun's breathing, and you brushed his arms lightly with your fingertips. All was well until you shift in your spot to feel Yeonjun's grip getting tighter around your waist then you suddenly feel something poking your ass. You purposely grind your ass against his morning wood again resulting in a groan sweeping through the man's lips. "Honey can we?" the question comes out low and raspy enough to get your face burning and panties wet. "Do what you must." Yeonjun smiles at your comment burying his head in your neck leaving sleepy wet kisses. Grinding up your ass as his hands snake down your body to your small panties pushing them to the side. Yeonjun already naked under the bed covers he rubs through your folds wetting his dick which easily slides into your core. A faint gasp could be heard from Yeonjun as he slowly thrusts inside you. Your body burning under the covers and by the great stretch of his cock. Yeonjun lifts your leg to get a better angle and starts ramming into you hard. Surely making both of you to fall back asleep after.

Beomgyu

Beomgyu wakes up first by small snores coming from your side of the bed. He turns to watch your mouth open and close with every growl you make. He smiles to himself, now what kind of princess snores? Gyu reaches over to caress the plush of your cheeks as he stares while grazing his thumb over your lovely lips. What if I kiss this sleeping beauty? A soft push of your jaw to close your mouth, he leans over to kiss your lips. Gyu lifts his head to see a possible reaction from you, but you did nothing. The sleepy man drifts down kissing your jaw and then neck. You were jolted from your dream when you start to feel a ticklish sensation on your neck. It happens again and again making your look down to see the brunette boy hidden within the crook. You smile bringing you hands up to play with his hair and to acknowledge that you're awake. Beomgyu quickly moves his head up to see your eyes staring back at him. He reflects your smile before going for another kiss. "Are you hungry?" you mumble sleepily. "Yes but for something else" Gyu says with his fingers tracing the waistband of your panties. He feels a slight squirm under his touch making him smirk, "can I?" You frantically nod then watch his head disappear underneath the sheets. Then a warm wet feeling of his tongue traces along your clothed cunt making you gasp. It wasn't too long until he found a way to slip the fabric off suck, licking, fucking your wet pussy like a good breakfast.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[livelaughlovesubs]

Hi!! I’m a little lurker who only did one request once and I forgot what happened to that one so I have a different request!!

can you…uhm…write a little thing about priest!fyodor who believes reader to be a god but reader just a normal human?

And like human is a virgin and…you know where I’m going with this.

A worshiper Fyodor taking his beloved God’s virginity by riding reader until he passes out from how many times Fyodor bounced on his cock.

idk I just can’t stop thinking about it but I don’t think I worded it pretty well and you have pretty words soooo…

I’m sorry for bothering you with this imma just

go back to lurking once more…

but if I could bother you again? Can I be 🕶️ anon please?

This is similar to something I have started long ago! On my old blog! But it got deleted along with my drafts :’)

Dom!reader x sub!priest!fyodor - reader is gender neutral

Warning: pegging (I use dick), use of condom (wow scary), no prep, cum play (licking), hierophilia, corruption, taking virginity, worshipping, fucking in a church, dacryphilia, handjob, cumming untouched, mind break, sub space, bruises, god - worshipper relationship

It happened the moment he laid his eyes on you. When you walked in, pass the grand wooden door and slandered through the small halls. That miraculous day was Sunday, morning to be precise, and you came in late for the morning chant. Everyone who sat on the benches turned their head to look at you, some with scorn, some with a mocking grin. You looked unfazed and went straight to the first row, keeping eye contact with one single person, the priest in charge.

That cold attitude despite the loud voices, the way your every move was as smooth and elegant as clear water. Your expression after sitting down, lips shut while keeping your arrogant eyes on him, as if to judge him, to attest to something. All that appeared divine in his eyes, superior even, it caused a shudder to run down his spine. He had never felt such a pressing sensation before, it was the first time.

You were staring at him so much, though he couldn’t read your intentions. Nothing, only emptiness. A gentle breeze, that brought forth comfort, turning into an icy storm capable of destruction. These words would be perfect to describe you, or how his view of you, because everyone else seems to think otherwise. Most of them scoffed about you coming in late, those little complains soon changed into more vicious words. Like a devils curse, causing the once friendly guests to sin.

“Dear father, may we continue with the morning prayers?” Among the low whispers of the devil, a voice akin to an angels emerged. “Excuse me..?” Fyodor murmured, eyes subconsciously darting to the direction of the sound. Once again, it was you who called out to him. A blush crept onto his cheeks when he noticed your piercing gaze, it was a little embarrassing that he dazed out there. “Yes, of course, pardon my inattentiveness.” The priest said, glancing at you a last time before focusing on his duties. Or at least he tried, because he couldn’t concentrate. The entire time he found himself stealing glances at you, watching you. This wasn’t like him, he couldn’t even recognise himself.

From then onwards, he found himself searching for your eyes or attention. It began with him asking around about you, then it gradually turned into him actively seeking you out. Your meetings became more frequent, and more private as well. One day, he found you kneeling in the confession box, boringly staring through the bars. He quickly positioned himself, then asked, “what brings you to me, my child?”

Seeing you up close was a new experience, he felt the tingly sensation crawling around his body again. “Father, I’m here because I believe you have something to confess.” You said with a voice coated in sweet honey. “Me, confess?” The priest mumbled, obviously baffled by your words no matter how he adored your voice. “That’s right, I can see. If you have something to say, do it now.” After hearing you out, he swallowed the lump in his throat, before smiling at you meekly and admitting, “I fear I’m not loyal to my god anymore.”

It took a lot out of him, a servant of god, to utter these words. Of course it wasn’t without reason. Simply being in your presence made him feel special and watched, as if those nonchalant eyes of yours were the watching gaze of god. He couldn’t explain it, it was a chilly feeling, but at the same time it burned him from the inside. “Speak, father.” You spoke, then he suddenly slammed his hands against the wall separating the two of you. “My lord, you don’t have to speak politely with me. I, Fyodor, this lowly subject of yours, am ready to serve you with all my heart.” The male announced, smiling at you in delight, cheeks rosy as he declared you as his new god.

Anyone who heard this would have thought he was out of his mind, staring at him with a face that screams the word disbelief. But not you, contrary to what one would expect, your expression stayed neutral. “My subject? Lord?” You questioned his choice of vocabularies, tilting your head to the side. “Yes, oh lord, please let þis servant worship you.” Then, to your surprise, the father you were supposed to confess to kneeled down and clasped his hands together, praying to you with a sickening obsession.

That shivering, oppressive feeling didn’t leave him alone, it gnawed at him and told him this was the right thing to do. He couldn’t care less what he was supposed to do or not, all that wasn’t important anymore. Since his deity has come down and granted him an audience, he only has to follow their- your orders from now on.

Whatever got him acting this way was all in his head, you were nowhere near of being a god. Quite the opposite, you were just a human like him, and you found his actions irritating. But you weren’t any better, you didn’t correct him, rather, you liked that desperate look on his face. You wanted to test his limits, to see how far he’d go for you. In truth you enjoyed playing god for him, depending on who you are asking this might be even more twisted than what fyodor was pulling off.

It started with you getting him to do bothersome stuff for you, sometimes it also became materialistic. Other times you would just converse with him and enjoy his company. He’d ask tausend questions about you, some trivial, some existential ones. Most of the time you’d put up with his antics, acting like a benevolent and nice deity. That’s when one day, one of his curiosities caught you off guard. It was when he asked you:

“my lord, do.. you want me to comfort you?” You stared at him with furrowed brows and scoffed “comfort? Where did you get that idea?” “You look stressed my lord, I wish I could do something for you.” Fyodor said, he was on his knees in front of you, who was sitting on a bench in a huge room. The room where each Sunday a crowd of people would come in for morning prayers.

He looked up at you with foggy eyes, hands itching to worship your body. How could someone be this divine and perfect? Obviously he was the chosen one, he was born to meet you. “That… I’ve never done anything like that before. Speaking of which, have you, as a priest?” You questioned, a tiny bit interested. “No, I kept my chastity for you, my god.” Fyodor answered shamelessly, then thought about what you told him.

If what you said was right, then he awfully wanted to give his first to you, and to be your first as well. To take the virginity of his most beloved god and to give, there was nothing more he could ask of. “Is that so?” Your warm voice broke off the momentary silence, then you continued with, “come here.” You tapped your thighs, wondering if he would do it. Did he believe in you enough to commit something that has always been taboo for him? A part of you doubted it, but you wished he’d obey you yet again.

The boy stared at your moving hands for a while, then did as you instructed, climbing onto your lap with reddened cheeks. “…like this?” He raised his arms, about to wrap them around your neck but decided against that. Then he bawled them into fists and kept them behind his back, before grinding against your crotch with his own bulge. “Nghh... fo-forgive me, hah I-lord, can I please continue?" Fyodor mumbled with squinted eyes, biting his bottom lip while he let his desires take over. You grabbed his waist, wrinkling his black robe and stopping him, whispering, "D-don't move, not in the church." Your conscious forbid you from carrying out such acts in a holy place. Sure, you provoked him first, though you didn’t expect it to escalate this soon.

He begged you with glistening, teary eyes, hoping you'd let him go further than that. It felt so good he couldn't stop, he has never even touched himself before so that simple gesture was enough to make him drool. "P-please." Fyodor groaned into your ear, his voice has never been this needy or lewd, it surprised both of you. Instead of stopping when you told him to, he continued to grind against you and whimper, "use me however you see fit, my lord, please let me he-help you." You clenched your teeth, use is a strong word. It’d be a lie to say you weren't aroused, so you sighed and complied with his request, "dammit, fine. Go and get my bag."

This was how you were going to have your first? Giving it to a crazy priest who believes you were a being above humanity? Who would have guessed…

You watched him get off with shaky legs, the spot between his legs was all wet and sticky already. Was it normal to be this sensitive? It's probably because he's a virgin, just look at him eagerly bringing your stuff to you. Once he came back, you fumbled around in your bag, luckily you always brought your stuff with you in case of a spontaneous one-night-stand. It never happened before, yet you knew you would need it one day. After you were done with the preparations, you opened a pack of condom, about to pull it over your length when he clasped his hand over yours. "L-let me do it." He proposed, hands shaking with embarrassment as he took slowly pulled it down to the shaft. You almost laughed because he was making such a big deal out of it, sweating furiously with an ashamed gaze.

"Do you find it dirty to touch it?" You chuckled after watching him for a bit, finding his reactions pretty amusing. "No-no.!! No.. that, I-I'm.." His face heat up again as he tried to find the right words. In the end he decided to just speed up the entire thing, and grabbed the bottle of lube that was in your other hand. Then he squeezed the contents onto your dick and spread it evenly, wondering if this would even fit. After a minute, you grabbed his wrist and scoffed, "are you done playing?" Out of nervousness and excitement he forgot to stick it inside him, looking away in shame before lining the tip up with his hole.

"HnnGgh.. this is h-hard.." he complained under his breath, trying his best to take you. You wanted to prepare him first, but he said he wanted the first thing to enter him to be you and not some fingers. Since that was what he wanted, you decided to let him be. That's what led to your current situation, where he's desperately poking his entrance with your dick. “NghhHg..! Ah, f-feels good..” Finally he managed to take your tip, already panting like he had ran a marathon. "Good job." You praised him, then caressed his soft thighs. They were covered by his clothes, which annoyed you a little, so you gripped his hips and butt before slamming him down your cock. "AhhHGGgNN.!? AahHH..! H-hurts.." He moaned out loudly, then slumped against your chest, fingers clawing at you for support.

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, his body shivered at the sudden impact. You were stretching him so much, he could swear his butt was going to tear. At the same time he was so happy, enjoying this to the fullest. His insides were working overtime, trying to accommodate your thickness and length, his rim clenching and loosening up with each inhale. He made such sinful noises when your hands squeezed his snatched waist, to the point you wondered if he was telling the truth earlier. After waiting for him to stop holding onto you like his life depended on it, you cupped his cheeks, making him look up at you. “Look here, fyodor, tell me how good it feels.” Then you grind your hips against his.

The movements were minimal, you didn’t make him ride you yet, only pushing it slightly deeper inside him. Yet the reaction was better than expected. He arched his back, throwing his arms around your neck out of reflex and whined, “ahHhH!! I-i love it, god, it’s so NGhh m-my insides are tingling..♡” You clicked your tongue, grabbing his butt to have a better grip and praised him, “so good for me.. there’s to turning back now, you don’t mind sinning for me, right?” He didn’t even think twice before saying, “I’ll do whatever you want me to..!”

After getting his permission, you told him to hold onto you tightly. Once he did as you commanded, you manhandled him and made him go up and down your dick. Your little worshipper wasn’t particularly short, rather, he was unusually light. He couldn’t even keep a straight face composure anymore, crashing against you once again as he moaned into your ears. Poor boy was crying due to the overwhelming pleasure, thighs trying to close together in a twitching manner and toes curled off the ground. Drool dripped down his chin and soaked your clothes, all while he moaned out your Titel.

“L-lord, god.. ah, please!! S-slow down.. ngHh, too much, too big..♡♡” his voice became higher with each trust, and bruises began to form around his hips because of your rough grip. “Didn’t you say I can do what I want?” You reminded him, licking your lips when you saw his melting face. How those beautiful water drops raced down his cheeks like soft rain against a window. His pupils even formed little hearts to match that pleasure-ridden gaze in his eyes. Most of his bangs stuck to his forehead, the rest of his hair bounced around whenever you made him ride you.

Then you said fuck it and ripped his priest robe, so that you’d have more access to his skin. “Hu-hUHmnn..?! M-my lord! AhhHNN!!” He shrieked when he noticed one of your hand on his inner thighs, pinching and groping his skin. “W-why there..? Nghhh…” Fyodor groaned, a tad embarrassed by the intimate touch. His deity was touching him after all. Alone the thought of you, his one and only god, fucking him and using him was enough to get him to the verge of cumming.

More precum leaked from his shameless tip, soiling the back of your hand. “M-m’sorry, so-sorry..ah, for being d-dirty..!” He immediately apologised, holding your wrist weakly and bringing it to his lips. Then he slowly licked off the pre, using kitten licks that looked so inexperienced and adorable that you had to tease him more. Sticking your finger into his mouth and snapping your hips against his. Fastening your pace, going rougher and deeper, rutting into him like he was some fleshlight. At this point his petite body won’t be able to take it! He’s so slim and vulnerable, it’d be a shame to break his mind and make him your toy, wouldn’t it?

“MhmMNN… ah, r-right there..Nghh, too f-fast, g-god! feels good~ ♡” Fyodor mewled into your ears, squeaking as he tried to shake his ass for you. But he was more on the passive side, letting you move his body however you saw fit. His sloppy and slutty hole was making squelching noises whenever you bottom out in him, all sticky with lube already. You were so caught up in the moment, you weren’t even sure what you were doing. All you knew was you wanted to touch him, to feel up his figure and trace the outlines of his body. Then you kissed his neck, causing him to whimper uncontrollably. “Hnghh… I- mHhm, l-lord help me.. I want more♡ something is coming out..!!” The boy gasped and smiled, grinning satisfied, the expression almost looked dumb.

You did as he asked of you, slamming him down onto your dick harder and trying to hit his sweet spot more often. The way it rubbed and played with his soft and warm walls made him see the light, or he was just about to blank out. “Nghh! F-forgive me.. for my siiiinnns..!! ♡♥︎～” The priest, Fyodor, your exclusive worshipper and toy servant groaned a last time before shooting ropes of cum out of his twitching member. His thick and filthy cum got everywhere. From his ripped clothes to his milky inner thighs and chest. Then he slumped down, pleasure and sensations he never felt before all coursing through him at once. He felt so good, this was the first time he felt this amazing. It must be due to you, because of your blessings.

Oh how lucky he was to serve such a kindhearted and generous god, who was patient enough to show him all this bliss. This was heavenly~ His body was still a shaking, twitching mess. The lingering ecstasy making him sob and moan louder. After giving him a gift this great, he will have to serve you even more diligently and wholeheartedly! He will make sure to worship and treasure whatever you gave him!

Even you had to catch up your breath since the session was so intense, panting a little while still admiring him. You were still inside him, and he was clenching down onto you without letting you pull out. Then you leaned back against the lean of the bench, signing when you realised what you just did. Now you were definitely going to hell. Fucking a priest in the praying halls, were you possessed? Right before you could tell him to get off, since you two had to clean up, he took off his clothes completely. “Huh..? Fyodor?” You whispered in disbelief. Sure, you ruined his robes, but why did he take them off?

It was the first time you saw him entirely naked, and he was as skinny as you noticed him to be. His nipples were all hard and pink, a cute colour in your opinion. A few seconds later, he re-positioned himself in your lap despite his legs giving up under him. Then, he slowly rode you, jumping up and down while wrapping one hand around his shaft. You rushed to stop him, saying, “wait a sec- shouldn’t we, especially you, take a break?” Seriously, for how sickly and pathetic he looks, he had quit the stamina? Instead of obeying you like normally, fyodor smirked obsessively and moaned, “G-god, forgive me for i-indulging..! Ahhh.. I’m so sinful, I deserve punishment. But..!! it’s just so good I can’t stop ♥︎♡.”

What…? Wait- isn’t this priest too slutty…?? It seems you’ll have to suck it up and wait until he milked himself dry on your dick ♥︎

[biteofcherry]

Gasoline

dark biker!Ari Levinson x female reader x dark biker!Curtis Everett

summary: They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. It sure was true for you. An attempt at saving someone led to you being taken into the pits of darkness. And the devils own you now.

warnings: dub-con; power imbalance; possessiveness; threats; sex in public; unprotected sex; cockwarming; oral (m receiving); mention of oral (f receiving); fingering; pussy spanking; spit kink; forced tattoo; dark!Ari; dark!Curtis;

word count: 4.5k

Author's Note: So this is a result of a few factors ruining me - @buckets-and-trees tattoo artists Curtis and Ari story making me think of those two combining forces; musings about masked dark biker Curtis with @stargazingfangirl18 ; as well my horny brain creating a very naughty dream 🫣 It's not a story I've been working on for long. I wrote it all today, because I needed to get it out of my head.

Be ready at 9PM. Max will drive you.

The message is blunt and direct. Like most of their commands. 

The upside is that at least you don’t have to figure out what they want, there are no games to be played. Still, you love when they turn a bit more playful - marginally so. When there’s a whisper of softness and fondness in their eyes as they let you tease and poke a bit.

You think it’s because you’ve learned when to do that and how to keep it just a small, acceptable dose. 

You’ve learned quickly that acting a full on brat wouldn’t be tolerated. 

Well, at the very beginning they shouldn’t have been surprised you lashed out. After all, they’ve taken you without your consent, stealing you away from your steady life as a punishment for daring to defend someone who crossed them.

With your fierce, empathetic heart you couldn’t just stand down and watch as they flayed someone open. But that act of humanity cost you your freedom. 

Swept away on a beast of a motorbike, its roar barely covering the thudding of your panicked heart; taken into the depths of the city’s darkness and into the tower that became your new life. 

Because nobody crossed Ari Levinson and Curtis Everett, without facing severe punishment.

It was your luck, or perhaps doom, they sanctioned you with life instead of death. But that life was now theirs. 

You were all theirs. 

So of course you fought at the beginning, which didn’t seem to surprise or faze them much. Your screams and throwing things against the beautiful walls of the two story penthouse were ignored for the most part. So were your tears. They merely wiped them away in an almost tender gesture, then coldly told you to accept that this was your life now. 

“You can make yourself miserable living it, or you can let yourself accept it and find enjoyment in it.” 

The way Ari's thumb brushed along your bottom lip told you exactly what kind of enjoyment they were offering you. Your traitorous body reacted, despite your mind detesting it.

They took away your clothes and when you asked for some Ari simply told you no. So you ripped down the gauzy window curtains and draped them over yourself in a makeshift dress. 

You were very smug about that little victory.

Until Ari ripped them off of you and fucked the rebellion out of you. 

Fucked you hard and long, ‘till you sobbed and begged for mercy. Which was granted only after you promised to follow the rules. 

You were still sore and oversensitive when Curtis slipped into your bed the next morning, waking you up with his mouth devouring you. Pinning you down after wrecking two orgasms out of you, he fed you the mixture of your cum and his spit, ordering you to swallow. 

“Good girls get rewarded,” he left you with that direction. And with a pile of new clothes on the chair. 

Over the next weeks, through trials and tribulations, you’ve learned that as long as you followed the rules and expectations, most of your requests were met. Often they went beyond and before you even asked for something. 

The only thing you would never be granted was your freedom. 

You weren’t allowed outside, unless you were with them. The steel and glass tower they owned was swarmed with guards and all sorts of alarms and traps. The only time you were out without either Ari or Curtis at your side (usually the both of them) was when an appointed guard was taking you to them. 

Just like now. 

You stare at the message on your phone. Which isn’t your connection to the outside world at all. The only contacts in it are to Ari, Curtis and two most trusted men from their inner circle. It’s tracked at all times and you’re sure they are monitoring your browsing history, as well. 

Clubbing is not my thing. You dare to type back.

The fact they told you where they were going when they left the penthouse isn’t much comforting, because it’s a way to force you to have information for which they could easily kill you, if you used it in any way. It’s also a manipulation to make it feel like what the three of you have is some sort of a relationship. 

But isn’t it?

Fucking aside, they spend time with you. If they aren’t away doing bloody business, they always eat breakfast with you. Other meals depending on their workload. They aren’t very talkative, but they engage in conversations with you. Curtis taught you how to properly use the few machines at the home gym, when you were restless and searching for something to do while locked in. Ari will keep you in his lap, playing with your hair and watching movies on the ridiculously huge screen. 

Glimpses of softness, really. You never fool yourself to think of them as truly soft, because even as they provide a certain tenderness, there’s always that brutal darkness lurking behind. 

It shows in the way they fuck you. As well in the way Ari’s gaze glints a murderous warning when you come close to crossing the line, or how Curtis doesn’t bother wiping away enemy’s blood from his face before coming to you. 

Wear a red dress - comes the reply and you know tonight they’re not in the mood to give you room for some brattiness. 

You huff in annoyance, but still get up and go into the bathroom to take a shower and shave. 

Sometimes, when they’re more relaxed and content, they entertain your pushing. Usually it leads to a sinfully hot chuckle, a few spanks and a lot of orgasms. But if they’re in one of their darker moods, you don’t dare to rebel. It doesn’t end well. 

Yes, there’s merciless fucking that leaves you shattered into pieces, but there’s always a higher price to pay too. Like having your childhood friend and her family threatened with death, when you reached out to her via social media. 

Hair and makeup done, clad in a tight, short red dress, you’re ready five minutes before 9PM. Max waits for you in the elevator, greeting you curtly, but not looking up at you. 

No one ever looks directly at you. No one beside Curtis or Ari. 

As you’re being driven through the city, you wistfully watch streets buzzing with life - people freely walking around, friends meeting and going out for drinks, workaholics leaving companies and trailing home. You were never a partying girl and you know you’re being summoned to the club only for Curtis and Ari’s entertainment, but at least you will be out of your beautiful prison for a few hours. 

The club is pulsing with a sensual, enticing beat. There’s enough people filling the space to make it obvious how popular this place is, but there’s also a street long line at the front, because getting in isn’t that easy. 

You don’t know if Ari and Curtis own this place, but you doubt they’d take you anywhere that wasn’t under their strict command. 

Besides, they have their fingers wrapped tightly around so many establishments and people in this city, that it may belong to them whole. 

Many would never assume that their power extended so greatly. They’re nothing like the polished, suit-wearing mafia men, or politicians that people imagine to be at the top. Not with their less classy attire of jeans and leather, their heavy biker boots, tattoos covering their bodies. And yet it’s them who hold the reins and carve up anyone daring to step out of line. 

Max points toward the staircase, leading to the upper floor. VIP section undoubtedly, considering two heavily tatted bouncers guarding the entrance. 

They nod their heads in greeting, but drop their gazes. One of them unhooks the red rope and lets you onto the stairs.

There's a middle floor, filled with velvet couches and chrome accessories, shiny tables set with buckets filled with ice and champagne bottles in each. You notice a few faces you know from the tv screen and social media. 

Ah, so it's a floor for the celebrity kind of VIPs. 

But the real important people are on the top floor. Guarded by another set of bouncers. 

Unlike the lower levels, this one is instantly recognizable as belonging to bikers. Chrome details are kept in darker tones, velvet replaced by leather, a tattoo-style painted skull takes most of the black wall. 

Members of the gang mingle around. Not many of them, just the inner circle, or closest to it. Brutal enforcers, sneaky assassins, remorseless bunch. 

You pass them without glancing at anyone, your gaze searching and settling on the only people you're allowed to give your attention to.

Ari and Curtis are sprawled on the central, U-shaped sofa. Arms braced on the back of it, legs spread wide. Masters of the dark universe. Of your universe, too. 

There's no one beside them, but in front of them, separated by the steel chrome coffee table, is a man. A battered, bleeding man. On his knees. 

Everyone around acts as if there was nothing there to see. As if the man didn't exist at all. You feel that compassionate sadness squeeze your heart. The same instinct that made you act that fatal night and sealed your fate. Now you know not to show it, not to act on it, or it would lead to the man's immediate death. 

Instead, you stand before them. Just a few steps away from the trembling man. 

Ari and Curtis’ eyes instantly move to you. Both slowly drag their gazes up your form.

One thing that you gained from their attention is the huge boost in body confidence. Each pound, each curve, each roll - they desire you all the same.

You made sure to wear a dress that's short enough to leave your thighs exposed. They always like when their marks of ownership are visible. 

Getting them was painful. Also against your will. But you stayed in place, gritting your teeth and clenching your fingers into fists. Ari held you down to prevent any squirming as Curtis personally tattooed your skin. 

One thigh presents a scary black&white skull, shrouded in darkness. With a bleeding red rose crunched between its teeth. Drops of blood are painted as dripping into scratched out letters below, forming his name - Curtis.

On your other thigh is a female's head - your portrait. All dark stencil, no color. Two skeleton hands gripping you. One is wrapped around your throat, letters of Ari's name written on each bony knuckle. Two fingers of the other hand are pushed in your tattooed version's mouth.

Ari bounces one of his legs and you know that it's a sign for you. You slip between the table and the couch and sit down in Ari's lap. 

His arm moves from the backrest to curl around your back. You lean into him, resting your side against his chest. With your fingers you play with the chain around his neck, distracting yourself from the scene unfolding.

They ask the man something. Their voices are steady, but deadly serious. The man sounds pitched, stuttering. Others would laugh at him for such “unmanly” reaction, but you understand that core-deep terror and how the scrutiny of the two bikers turns you into a pathetic mess.

You tune out whatever they're saying. You don't want to hear the begging for mercy, because you know it won't come. 

Ari and Curtis share a look. A silent agreement passing between them. 

Some people make the mistake of assuming that Ari is the leader and Curtis his main enforcer. That couldn't be farther from the truth. 

They both rule. Equally. Each decision is unanimous. 

It just so happens that Ari often takes the talking part and Curtis the executioner’s. 

It’s Curtis who moves now, too. Extremely fast for his massive body. His hand curls around the man's throat, squeezing it hard. Not just in warning. He drags the flailing man away, just by holding him by the neck.  

You don't watch where he's being taken, nor who takes over. You don't want to see. Besides, Ari commands your attention.

He grips your hips and in a swift move has you straddling him. One hand moves up, to cup your chin, while he slides the other hand over his tattoo of ownership and under your dress.

He brings your face closer, with a swipe of his tongue coaxing your lips to part wider. When he kisses you, you melt into him all pliant. Your own tongue gives a little kitten lick, which you know Ari really likes. 

He probes further between your thighs, tattooed fingers touching your bare folds.

“No panties, little lamb?” Ari’s breath tickles your lips. His voice is sweet and tempting like molasses, but also deceptive and suffocating like a tar. 

“Is it because you’re a good girl, or a bad girl?” he chuckles, spreading you at the seam.

A moan rolls out on your tongue as his fingers expertly draw out your wetness. It was your doom from the very beginning, how easily both of them played your body, despite your emotional state being far from turned on. But they taught you to crave it. Got you addicted to their touch, to the teasing, as well to the merciless fucking. 

“Both,” you roll your hips against Ari’s hand. 

“Duality of a woman,” he chuckles, nipping your chin. The hand cupping your face drifts lower, his tattooed fingers curling around the front of your neck. “But you’re going to take the good girl route, lamb,” Ari hisses, clenching his fingers tighter.

With his grip around your throat, he pushes you backwards. Your back rests on his legs, head bowed backwards, almost touching the coffee table. 

His fingers keep circling your clit, then dipping lower to gather your slick and rub it all over your folds. When he pushes a single digit in, your walls resist at first. But Ari’s an unyielding beast, forcing you open and making you keen. 

There are people around, you’re aware of them. No protests, however, would stop either Ari or Curtis from taking what they want. When they want. Wherever they want. Humiliation simmers beneath your skin, but it’s buried deeper than arousal that Ari ignites. 

There’s also a certain comfort, because while he displays your body publicly, it’s for his and Curtis’ eyes only. Nobody would dare watch you.  

Your back arches as Ari thrusts a second finger along with his middle one. You stretch your arms above your head, fingers gripping the edge of the coffee table. His hand slides from your throat across your chest and down your belly, until it settles on your hip to help hold you in place. 

He fucks you with his fingers long enough to have you dripping onto his lap, your core clenching as he rubs your swollen nub with his thumb. 

But then he withdraws with an obscene squelch, which thankfully gets lots in the sexy beat filling the club. 

Ari unzips his jeans, giving his thick cock a few strokes, smearing your slick all over. Both hands gripping your hips, he yanks you closer and spears your cunt in one stroke. 

Your scream of his name makes him grin. Lips curling in a triumphant, sinister smirk, Ari moves your body to meet his thrusts. He loves the way your body just gives in to whatever he wants to do to you. And the remnants of resistance taste so delicious when he breaks through them. 

“That’s it, lamb.” He taunts when your pussy tightens around him. 

With you bowed back, your hips arched, his cock gets to ram into that sweet spot that turns you into a messy slut. Over and over again. 

Your nipples poke through the fabric of your dress, your mouth falls open, spluttering incoherent sounds and mewls. You make a beautiful, ruined view. Though no, not yet ruined enough. But they will work on that. 

Ari’s gaze travels from your bouncing breasts, nearly spilling out of your dress, down to where your puffy folds hug his cock. Glistening, pink tightness that stretches around his intrusion. 

Their perfect pussy.

“Go on. Come all over my cock, like a good girl,” he speeds up his pace slightly, thumbs rubbing back and forth along the junctures of your thighs. 

You fall over the edge with a helpless cry, pleasure rolling through you in heated waves. And it goes on as Ari continues to fuck you through it. He starts pulling you to him harder. Hungrier. Burying his cock to the hilt, your wetness smearing over his jeans. Rough edge of the zipper bites into your skin each time your buttocks press into his pelvis.

A silhouette appears above you. A dark, threatening shape against the strobe lights.

Curtis’ head tilts to the side as he looks down at you. He holds a tumbler of whiskey in his hand, which he brings to his lips. He takes a sip, watching you writhe in pleasure. 

He dips two of his fingers in the amber liquid before bending down to slide them between your parted lips. Spicy flavor trickles down your throat. Your tongue struggles against the pressure of digits, which Curtis keeps pressing against it. 

He feels your saliva pooling around his fingers. Though the music in the club drowns out the sound, he feels your gurgling as you’re kept on that edge between choking and freedom. 

After a beat he pulls back and sits on the sofa beside Ari. A part of you wants to look his way and assess what torment he’s brewing for you, but you fear to know. Also the pleasure Ari keeps stoking is too distracting to focus on anything else. 

Until calloused fingers circle your swollen clit with purpose. 

You’re not so out of it yet to not know it’s Curtis' hand. Ari’s are clamped on your hips, moving you like a ragdoll. 

He draws tight circles. Slow ones, then a few faster, then slow again. You whine, jerking in Ari’s iron grip. His low laugh indicates he won’t be coming to your aid; not when your sensitive nub being played with provides him so much pleasure, because your cunt tightens anew. 

Curtis’ touch disappears for a second. Only to come back with heavy torment.

His palm lands a smack on your clit, causing you to cry out. 

Your thighs tremble, muscles tensing as instinct urges you to close them and protect yourself from the torment. But you’re spread open, Ari’s body nestled between your thighs and holding them open. 

Curtis slaps your clit again and your body bows. One of your arms reaches down, trying to shield yourself. Strong fingers cage your wrist. 

“Don’t even try it, lamb.” Curtis leans forward and growls; he clenches his fingers on your wrist. “Keep your hands away from our pussy.” 

With a whine, you stretch your arm above your head. Your wrist pulses with pain. 

Curtis’ palm pats your mound. His fingers dive back to your clit, drawing wicked eights that contrast with the steady, rough pounding Ari continues. 

“You may squirm and cry, lamb,” Curtis teases, “but you’re going to cum from having your clit spanked. And you’re going to cream all over Ari’s cock, like a good little slut.”

Five more swats deliver his prediction. 

Your whole body seems to lock in a spasm, your very fingertips turn numb. Ari groans a curse as your pussy tightens like a vise, your silky walls clinging to him desperately. Despite the tightness, there’s so much wetness leaking around his cock and onto his lap. 

Your temples are wet, too; tears streaming along with your smudged mascara. 

As your orgasm continues to roll, your cunt finally eases some of the tension. But the aftershocks have your walls rhythmically pulsing, which turns out to be enough to stimulate Ari’s cock. 

It twitches inside of you and your pussy clenches in response. Ari moans, digging his fingers into your skin and jerking his hips. Hot, thick ropes of cum fill you. 

They keep you tipped back until the last drop of his spend pours into you. When they finally pull you up and Ari’s cock slips out, you know to clench as hard as you can, to spill as little of his cum as possible. 

Ari swallows your ragged breath, taking your mouth in gentler possession than he’s taken your body. Your clasped hands rest against his chest and you lean in sweetly, with a little needy mewl. He gives you that softer kiss you’re pleading for. 

They arrange you, spreading you on both of their laps. Your lower half rests on Ari’s thighs, his big hands slowly rubbing warmth into your calves and up your thighs. Your upper body rests in Curtis’ lap, head tipped on his thigh. 

You look up at him; his cold, blue eyes holding your gaze.

Once again he dips his fingers into whiskey and brings them to your lips. You suckle obediently. 

On the third pass, Curtis presses his fingers deeper and holds them. On the fourth, he not only pushes them against your tongue, but hooks down so that your jaw opens wider. 

He spits into your mouth. 

When he withdraws his fingers, you swallow without prompting. Some responses they have conditioned into you. 

Ari’s hand slides between your thighs and up. His fingers dip into the sticky mess pooling between your folds, despite your attempts at holding it in. You can’t stifle the moan that spills as he pushes two fingers into your aching hole. But that sound cuts short when Curtis’ whiskey-soaked fingers fill your mouth again. 

Three this time. Forced to the back of your throat, making you gag. 

Curtis holds them in, until your eyes tear up. Then starts fucking your mouth slowly, but always deep, always making you choke. 

Ari curls his fingers, but doesn’t move. Just wiggles them slightly, driving you mad with the teasing so close to your g-spot. 

Your saliva coats Curtis’ fingers, strings of spit smearing on your chin each time he withdraws before forcing his hand back in. He pries your mouth open, tugging your tongue out. Rubbing the pads of his fingers against your tongue, he spits into your mouth again. 

You keep your mouth open, tongue sticking out, when Curtis moves his hand away. He didn’t tell you to close your lips and the jangle of the belt buckle suggests he’d be ordering to open it again, anyway. Tip of his cock brushes your cheek when Curtis takes it out. He grips the base in one hand; his other slips to the back of your head. 

You turn your head as he guides you, tongue flicking against the veiny underside of cock that fills your mouth. 

It’s more difficult to take a lot of him in this position, on your side, with your cheek pressed against the harsh fabric of his black jeans. Curtis forces it anyway, careless of the choking sounds you make. 

Using his hold on your hair, he starts moving your head. Steady, but always uncomfortably far; causing your body to tense as gag reflex kicks in too hard.

“Want her to come, while she’s sucking you?” Ari asks, wiggling his fingers in your tight channel. They both laugh when you moan at the stimulation. 

“Not yet.” Curtis shakes his head. His gaze drifts down to you as he holds your head in place. “She’s going to warm my cock while I make some calls. And wait for her reward like a good girl. Right lamb?” He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand.

Everything is pulsing - from the changing beat reverberating through the walls of the club; the buzz of the gang members going across the VIP floor this and that way; the throbbing of Curtis cock in your mouth; to your clit demanding attention. 

Like he said, Curtis holds two phone calls. Each long and detailed, though you’re sure it’s not because he needed all that information. He wanted you to suffer. Ari’s fingers keep moving. Constantly. But too light, too slow, not deep enough. Yet he has you dripping all over his hand; which he keeps angled in a way that deprives your clit of any stimulation. 

Your whole body rouses to attention, almost giddy, when Curtis finally ends the call and tosses his phone to the side. 

He looks down at you and grins; as beautiful as sinister looking. 

He traces his fingers along your cheek, with deceiving tenderness. It’s gone in a blink of an eye. He fists your hair and pulls you down on him, at the same time thrusting his hips up. 

Along with him, Ari starts fucking you with his fingers. 

You’re gagging each time Curtis makes your nose press against the fabric of his jeans. Sloppy, gurgling noises of your mouth moving along dick match the lewd sound of squelching as Ari’s fingers push in and out of your pussy. 

Though there’s relentless build-up, your orgasm hits unexpectedly, as if forced by one particular thrust. Your body tensens like a string, toes curling. You twist to the side as much as they’ll allow you, digging your fingers into Curtis’ ribs. Your moans vibrate around his cock, making his hips jerk into you sharply. 

He slides even deeper and your lungs constrict from lack of air. Tears stream down your cheeks. Your throat closes around intrusion, causing Curtis to grunt in peak pleasure. 

When salty warmth spills suddenly down your throat, your vision goes black for a few seconds. 

Your breath returns in a sharp intake, a small coughing fit following when Curtis mercifully rolls your head away. His cock is still throbbing, spurting ropes of cum into your mouth and across your face. 

He slides the tip into your mouth again and you close your lips around it, hollow your cheeks and suck the last drops. 

Ari’s hand retreats from between your thighs. He licks his fingers clean, savoring the flavor of your combined spend. When he reaches for his own glass of whiskey it’s not to chase away the taste. 

Curtis downs the rest of his drink, too, before tucking himself back into his pants. He unties the skull-printed bandana from around his neck and uses it to clean your face. 

They help you up into a sitting position, keeping you between them. Ari brings his glass to your lips, giving you a sip. You grimace. You were never a fan of whiskey, but what’s worse is that spicy booze doesn’t help the burning in your mouth and throat. But then Ari’s scooping a half-melted ice cube from the tumbler and slips it between your lips. You hum appreciatively as the cold water soothes your used throat. 

You stay curled between them for a few more minutes. They’re not touchy, definitely not cuddlers; but they remain close to you. Their warmth keeps you anchored. When they put you on your feet some time later, you stumble slightly. It wasn’t the hardest fucking they ever subjected you to, but you’re tired nonetheless. 

You slide your arms into the sleeves of Curtis’ black leather jacket when he offers it to you. It’s soaked in his scent and so warm. 

You bury your nose in the collar of the jacket as you sit in the backseat of the car when Max takes you back to the penthouse. The city may be shiny with lights and neons, but the darkness holding it in its grasp is undeniable. And the grim reapers behind that darkness are gliding the streets with a roar. 

On their motorcycles, Ari and Curtis flank the car you’re in. Escorting you back to your forever prison.