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#SO PLEASE BEAR WITH ME! pwp
jkslipppiercing · 6 months
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Needy | jjk oneshot
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♡ summary: your boyfriend often helps you set up for your weekly girls' night...what happens when he gets needy for you only 15 minutes before your girl friends arrive?
♡ pairing: boyfriend!jungkook, dom!jk.
♡ genre: smut, smut, aaaand- you guessed it- smut!
♡ warnings: pure filth, pwp, oral (f receiving), he eats her out, he fucks her from behind, overstimulation, squirting, choking, praise, begging, uh what else- spanking, dirty talk, cursing, creampie, raw sex, penetration, he's basically obsessed with her ass.
♡ WC: 3.2K.
♡ a/n: this is my first time experimenting with smut, so bear with me. please please please never hesitate to share your thoughts about my works with me, constructive criticism is very appreciated, since it helps me write better, and especially if what im writing is for you to read- it would help me to know what you think!
index
taglist
-unedited.
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you place your hands on your hips and settle your gaze on the scene before you.
at least fifty fluffy pillows are thrown all over fuzzy bean bags that occupy the whole space in the livingroom- save for the couch that sits in the middle, faced with the TV.
you're already in your silk PJs, a silk set of shorts- that are above thigh- and a shirt. drinks, beers, and shot glasses are neatly positioned on the table, along with millions of other snacks scattered all over the place.
Jungkook usually prepares the food and snacks like popcorn, chips, and natchos while you take care of the setup with the pillows, beanbags, and blankets.
it's fifty fifty.
every saturday night, jiho and yejun- your girlfriends- get dropped off at yours for a disastrous girl's night where drinks are exchanged and secrets are spilled.
in the meantime, jungkook heads out of the apartment and to his mates'- yoongi and taehyung, respectively jiho and yejun's boyfriends- for what he calls a "mature hangout" which is anything but.
you know for a fact they play video games and gossip about all three of their girlfriends.
speaking of your boyfriend, he waltzes into the living room, two bowls of popcorn stacked on top of each other in one hand and a plate of nachos in the other.
he sets them down on the table and turns to you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to him rather abruptly.
you squeal, laughing when he wiggles his brows at you playfully before nuzzling his nose with yours.
you wrap your hands around his neck, putting your forehead to his.
soft locks of his hair meet your fingertips in a familiar caress, used to your touch.
your nails gently stroke Jungkook's scalp as he hums in satisfaction, his eyes shutting closed as he relishes your proximity.
"thank you."
"I already told you before, you dont need to thank me, sweetheart."
"i do, though."
"but i dont even do much."
"you do more than enough."
"it's the bare minimum. i wish i could offer more."
"shut up and accept my thanks, dumbass."
he chuckles and you pull away.
seconds later, you find yourself away from Jungkook's arms and frowning at the table, leaning down to fix the placement of the bowls Jungkook had just brought in.
"Kook! You got them wrong again! i always tell you, popcorn, natchos, popco-"
you feel a sharp slap on your ass, followed by a hushed curse.
"fuck."
you straighten, your jaw almost hitting the floor.
you were leaning down wearing short shorts, not paying attention of the possibility of flashing Jungkook. Your ass must've been on full display- scratch that- it was.
turning around, you take in the intensity of his gaze.
the earlier playfulness is long gone, replaced with cloudy chocolate eyes, hooded with something you were always able to identify- lust.
"did you just-"
he pulls you by the waist, catching you by surprise, yet again.
he looks at you in a way that quite literally has you melting, but you cant deny, youve never been wetter.
you can feel your arousal through your panties, only resulting from the mini spank delivered mere seconds ago.
"you're sexy in silk." his husky voice travels over your senses and sends them into overdrive.
just when you thought the situation couldnt get any hotter, his palms trace from your waist down to your ass.
he palms the soft tissue before squeezing it, hard.
your eyes shut immediately as you bite your lip.
his hand retracts only to land on your ass shortly after, sending a jolt of pain through your being and setting you alight with pleasure.
you gasp, incapable of making any other sound.
"bend over."
"w-what- right now?!"
"dont let me repeat myself, Y/N."
"but the girls will be here in fifteen minutes!"
"fifteen minutes is more than enough for me to make you cum more than twice."
more than twice?
dont mind if i do.
the pool of heat in your lower belly grows hotter under his gaze.
this man must be insane.
"go on." he steps away, willing you to get into the position.
you comply, bending over the armrest of the couch and stabilizing yourself on your palms.
"are you sure this is a good idea-" another spark of pain, from your ass cheek aiming to your pussy.
fuck.
you're silenced by the spank, and so, you dont say anything else. you just let the man behind you do his thing. not that you mind...
you can feel his presence behind you, and you're almost begging him to touch you until he hooks his fingers into the band of your shorts and tugs them down.
"i love your ass so fucking much." ...and another spank.
his words leave you breathless. you always knew how talented jungkook was with using his mouth, and he proves you right when he moves the string of the thong you're wearing to the side. he latches his mouth onto your pussy, eliciting a loud exhale from you.
you were never the type to scream your lungs out at the lightest touch, but you're also not hard to please, either.
at first, he works with a few nibbles and sucks on your opening, groaning into your entrance approvingly. he only gets a few gasps from you in return.
his hands are planted on your ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he dives in even deeper.
he surprises you when he pulls away, making you whine in protest but before you can straighten-
"don't move." he says from between your legs. "spread your legs wider for me, baby."
holy shit, this man is going to be the absolute death of you.
you can feel your pussy clenching around nothing at the dirty words, and you grow more achingly weak by the second.
when you do spread your legs, his tongue licks at you, but from a different angle. he switched his position so his butt is sitting on the ground beneath you, his back pressed to the couch. he grabs your hips and pulls you down to him, licking up your arousal from clit to opening then back again.
"so wet. for me?"
you hum in agreement.
it's true.
all for him.
he's no longer testing the waters, taking your clit in his mouth.
he sucks on it, causing you to moan.
you shamelessly moan at the action, but then he adds a finger.
and after he adds another finger, he moans into your pussy, sending vibrations through your body and fogging up your brain.
your mind is clouded, only focusing on the man between your legs, eating your pussy out like a hungered man.
he moves his fingers, slowly at first. you relish the delicious stretch his long fingers offer, moaning in appreciation.
it starts slow, but then his pace grows faster, snatching your breath away with it.
he's still nibbling on your clit, making your head swim.
your moans grow louder when he hits a spot with his fingers, and your mouth hangs open at the sensation.
"think you can handle another finger?" he rasps beneath you.
"please." a husky, breathless plea is all you can muster in this situation.
"please what?" he demands.
he adds another finger, making you take all three at once. he rubs your clit with his thumb, and all your thoughts are thrown out the window. you simply cant think.
his hand makes harsh contact with your ass cheek in a rough slap, doing an amazing job is heightening your pleasure.
"answer the question, y/n." his tone is dark, commanding you to reply, but you simply cant.
"oh, god!" you let out a high pitched moan when he curls all three of his fingers, knowing how to push all your buttons.
he knows. he's mapped out every inch by inch of your body, so you wouldnt be surprised if he reached certain spots even you wouldnt be able to reach.
you know that because you've tested that theory for yourself.
and you were right.
the man is a god at giving mind-blowing orgasms.
"beg for it." is all he says before he goes knuckles deep into you, basically abusing your hole. but it feels too good for you to argue, not that you want to.
he latches back on to your clit, and his fingers remain unrelenting at a fast speed.
"please, please, please!" you chant in a desperate moan for a release.
"Kook!" and right then and there, your orgasm hits you like a train and you tense. the euphoria is injected into your veins, mind-numbing you.
"that's it, baby." Jungkook coaxes you through it, pulling his fingers out to replace them with his tongue. he laps up your arousal, not wasting a single drop.
"you taste divine."
you just came, but now you want more.
Jungkook stands, leaning down to get ahold of you. you were hit with such a strong orgasm that you slumped forward in the midst of it, face planting on the couch like jello.
he hugs you from behind and you arch into him, feeling his erection.
he holds your body with one hand, grabbing your jaw and turning your face to him with the other.
you plant your lips onto his own soft ones, humming in contentment.
"thank you."
"we're no where near done for you to thank me, sweetheart."
you wouldnt come out alive.
"one more wouldnt hurt, right?" you say as if you're trying to convince yourself, aiming the words at you more than him.
he laughs, a deep rumble erupting from his chest. "we'll see."
what in bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!
the hand once holding your jaw now slithered down to your neck, claiming you as his. he pushes your hair to the side, tucking his head into the crook of your neck to place a few kisses there.
he takes your shirt off, your bra going right after as you're left naked for him to play with you.
he chokes you lightly, inhaling your scent as the other hand travels down to cup your pussy.
you're left breathless, even more so when he pinches your clit.
"who does this belong to?" he rasps into your ear, the sound so sexy it sends jolts of arousal through your spine, pooling down to wet slick between your legs.
"you." you mumble under your breath.
he slaps your pussy and you moan, arching your back and grinding back onto him.
"louder."
"you!" you desperately grind on his hand, only for a bit of friction.
"that's right." he snuggles into your shoulder, hand still on your neck as the other teases your entrance. "good girl."
your hands are clutching onto the arm rest for dear life, growing weak. your schest in heaving, and you might explode from all the hormones you're feeling right now.
Jungkook lets go of you, and you hear sounds of clothes shuffling which makes you look over your shoulder to meet his eyes just as he's unbuckling his belt, shirt off, chains on.
you're salivating.
"like what you see?"
he knows he's hot. smug bastard.
you only spread your legs wider as a response, putting your wet entrance on full display only for him to see.
you see him curse under his breath before he crosses the distance between you in a few strides, grabbing you by the neck to kiss you.
his tongue delves into your mouth, roaming, exploring, and dominating all it wants.
again, not that you mind.
seeing no reason in dragging this out any longer, the head of jungkook's cock nudges against your entrance, having you weak at the knees.
you moan into his mouth and he smiles into the kiss, always loving how responsive you are to his actions.
he pins one of his hands down on your hips, keeping you in place as he holds his cock with the other.
he guides it to your pussy, gliding it up and down your slick, causing your knees to waves everytime he nudges it with your clit.
"you ready for me?"
"please." is not even a coherent answer to his question, and he knows that because he chuckles at your neediness.
it started out with him convincing you to fuck him because of his neediness, and here you are now, begging for his cock.
he enters you with just the tip, testing the waters at first.
this isnt the first time you've had sex with jungkook. it's just that he needs to give you time every time because you just never got used to his size.
hes just so fucking big.
he enters you with another inch, then one after another until he bottoms out.
he groans at your warmth and your mouth hangs open at both the sound and the stretch.
"so fucking tight. all for me."
"all for you." you dont recognize your voice. all out of breath and high pitched, but jungkook loves it. he loves to hear you moan and writhe beneath him.
he stays there for a couple of seconds, letting you accommodate to his length.
he leans forward to take your tits in his hand, rolling the pebbled peaks between his thumb and index which makes your breath hitch. he toys with your breasts, kissing your shoulder from behind as he begins to move.
"mmm, fuck." is all he says before he moves his hips, gently. he knows when to be rough when it comes to sex, which causes him to speed up when all you do is breathe loudly.
it's like he has it as his mission to make you moan for him. for his ego.
and you do, because one minute, jungkook is being all lovey-dovey and slow with you, and the other, his hips are snapping into your at an incredibly high speed.
he leans back and grabs you by the hips, only to ball your hair into his fist and tug on it harshly. your hands are back on the armrest, desperately holding on.
he's fucking you relentlessly, groaning deeply at your tightness when you clench harder around him.
his groans are answered with high moans and pleas, and Jungkook speaks, his voice so full of restraint.
"look in front of you, y/n." and that's when you realize that you can see your reflection in the window.
you can see how Jungkook is manhandling you and take you from behind, and that does nothing but push you even closer to your climax.
"Jungkook!"
"can you see it?" he rasps out breathlessly. "can you see how well you take my cock, baby?"
"fuck!" there goes the second orgasm.
"cum for me." it barrels down on you and weighs you down even more than the first, tiring you out.
Jungkook's hand leaves your hair and grabs you by the neck, pulling you even more back to him and arching your back.
that position is the only thing keeping you from slumping forward and face planting onto the couch.
Jungkook thrusts just once, causing you to whimper out of overstimulation.
"i cant. i'm sorry, Jungkook. maybe you can fuck my mouth instead-"
"you did well."
"huh?"
"but you can do better."
hell no you cant-
he rubs your clit, still buried ball's deep inside of you.
the clit stimulation makes you relax a little bit, and maybe you can try.
"okay." you muster out a small confirmation which he gladly takes, except this time, he's anything but gentle.
Jungkook goes faster than he did before, ramming into you from behind but still rubbing your clit.
he squeezes your throat and leaves you little to no space to breathe, then loosens his hold after a couple of seconds.
he fucks you so hard you see stars, sounds of skin slapping against each other filling the room. his balls slap against your pussy, and it just feels divine.
your ass must be red by now, and you just cant breathe.
and then, you're hit with a sensation like never before. you cant see, cant breathe, cant hear, cant speak. a throaty scream snatches out of your throat and this orgasm is like none of the ones you've experienced before.
"you can take it." fuck fuck fuck fuck.
"fuck, kook!"
"yeah, baby? you like the way i fuck you so hard you forget your name?"
"thank you, thank you, thank you-" you're screaming, helpless. he's rubbing your clit, fucking you animalistically, tugging on your hair, and you can see it all in the reflection. you can feel his love for you.
the overstimulation doesnt make you uncomfortable, it makes you breathless.
he slaps your ass and smiles at the handprint.
shortly after, Jungkook curses under his breath and cums, "take it all." he thrusts into you through his orgasm, and when he's done, he pulls out and admires the masterpiece he created.
his cum mixed with yours oozes out of your pussy, and he plays with it, getting the mess all over his fingers.
you turn around just in time to see him suck his fingers clean, maintaining eye contact as he moans in satisfaction.
instead of feeling embarrassed, you step closer to him and kiss him. you both smile into it as you can taste yourself and him on his tongue, which feels amazing.
it feels euphoric.
you pull away, slightly cringing at the slick wetness you feel all over your thighs, which makes you confused.
"did i pee or something?" you say, perplexed, as you look at jungkook, which snorts in response.
"no, baby, you squirted." he gestures to his own lower abdomen, signaling the mess you made all over him. "you did it all over me, too. it was hot as hell."
you've never squirted before.
thats enough proof that he really did go all out this time.
wow.
when you look to the ground, seemingly embarrassed about it, he hooks his finger under your chin and makes you look up to meet his eyes.
"nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart." his eyes alone speak volumes. the man loves you more than himself.
"just proof that i fucked you well." he wiggles his brows, making you laugh.
you hug him in response, but then you remember...
"oh my god! the girls! i totally forgot!" you go to take a step forward, but wobble and almost fall instead.
jungkook immediately grabs you by the waist, stablizing you and pulling you to him.
"easy there, you're gonna hurt yourself." he says smugly, knowing he's the reason that's got you so sore.
"i should probably call them and make sure-"
"i already texted yejun saying you had a fever and cant get up from bed." he says a little too quickly.
he did what?
"you did what?!" youre so puzzled right now. "but why?"
"do you think i'm gonna leave you here after literally ruining you just to hangout with my mates?" he raises his brows, a frown tugging them together when he pins you down with a hard stare.
"plus, you need to shower, and you cant do that alone-" he smiles, his bunny teeth showing. "you need me to help." he wiggles his brows yet again, and you catch onto the implication a little too quickly.
there's no way you're surviving a second round in the shower...
right?!
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what do yall think for a first time?
@hoseokteardrop @nochuel @kaitieskidmore97 @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring @bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdolls @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotz @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime @allisonstone @hopekive @llallaaa @tarahardcore @hopetookmysoul @betysotelo18 @harmonic55 @ecrvea @awesomebabyyoda @peterstarkchrishiddleston @pinkrockstar19 @sweetestseoul @luv--youu @mochminnie @coletaehyung @whitelies2248-blog @ash07128 @bangtans-momma
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netherfeildren · 4 months
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Evermore
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Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Joel’s your older boyfriend who your parents had a hard time approving of, but you’re engaged now and spending your first Thanksgiving with your family, and well, it’s always fun doing things you know you shouldn’t do under the roof of your childhood home.
-OR-
The Thanksgiving AU
Rating: Explicit 18+
Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; Thanksgiving AU; Devoted Joel Miller; Established Relationship; Thanksgiving is the most boyfriend holiday and it needs to be discussed; Fucking in your childhood home shenanigans; Pretty soft and sweet; Needy behavior; Older man/Younger woman; Daddy kink; Size Difference; Unprotected PIV; Creampie; Breeding Kink; Oral sex; Fluff and Smut; Praise Kink; Come eating; PWP
A/N: Was thinking yesterday that Thanksgiving is the most boyfriendy holiday, and so this seemed entirely necessary after that epiphany. I’m sick as an old dog right now, and wrote this so quickly and just for fun. Any and all mistakes are property of my NyQuil induced high, apologies and enjoy and happy holidays :]
New Year’s Eve follow up
Word Count: 4.2K
Read on AO3
Ko-fi
“You’re doing so good.���
“You think so?”
“Yeah, baby. So, so good. It’s going so well.” You drag your nails slowly up the wide expanse of his strong back, feeling the divots and bumps of his spine, the thick padding of muscles that jump and shiver at your touch. He’d donned the nice green and red plaid button down you’d bought him for tonight, and he’s a little damp at the small of his back, giving away the nerves he’s trying to keep hidden from you, but you can tell anyways, sensed them as if they’d been your own fluttering within you. More attuned to another person than maybe is normal, perhaps, but you know this man, your man, your fiance now. You understand him. 
“You think he likes me?” And his voice goes a little gruff, sheepish, words lodging in his throat as he slowly soaps your mother’s special holiday china in the warm sink water. The two of you’d been relegated to clean up duty after you’d finished the beautiful Thanksgiving meal your mother had spent days readying in preparation for your first official visit with Joel as the man you’d soon marry. No longer just the older boyfriend who your father couldn’t stand to hear about, much less bear the sight of. And the come around had been slow going, undoubtedly, tireless work on yours and your mother’s parts trying to get him to relent, to accept the man who you’d chosen to spend the rest of your life with as a good man for his daughter. 
“Yes– yes. Absolutely. You made him laugh so many times. And he was so interested when you mentioned the house.”
You feel him suck in a shaky breath and move to wrap your arms around the strong breadth of his waist, resting your cheek against him, listening to the thud, thud of his beating heart. “Christ–” He gives a tremulous laugh that you follow suit warmly, palms splaying out over his belly. “He was, wasn’t he?” 
“So interested. Please, don’t worry anymore. My mom loves you, and dad’s on his way there too, I know he is, I promise.”
“He’s just protective,” he says, shutting off the water and pulling the plug on the drain. The both of you stand there in the silence together, listening to the little tornado of water suck away the remnants of the perfect dinner you’d just had with your parents and the man you were going to marry. It really had been perfect, and you’re telling him the truth when you say you really do think your father’s coming around. He’d been apprehensive at first, more than apprehensive, perhaps, with Joel being so much older than you, twenty years to be exact. And with a teenage daughter of his own, Sarah, who was spending the holiday with her mother. 
Your mother had always been the easy going one, and she’d taken one look at Joel, the dark, silver threaded curls, the thick shoulders and sparkly, hazel eyes, the too charming smile and had immediately understood. Your father had seen all those same things and seen nothing but trouble immediately deserving of mistrust. Things had been rocky for a time, but when Joel had gotten down on one knee and asked you to spend the rest of your life with him and Sarah, when he’d broken ground on the house he was building you with his bare hands from the dirt up out by the lake, well… your father hadn’t been able to withhold his approval for much longer after that was all said and done. 
“And for good reason,” he continues, reaching for the dish towel, drying off his hands before covering yours over his stomach with his wide palms, pulling your arms tighter around him. He brings one of your hands up to his face, cupping his own mouth with it to press a kiss to the tender cove. “The man should take me out back and drag me through the mud,” he mumbles, muffled into your skin, dragging his mouth slowly from side to side, tickling your palm with his whiskers. 
You press yourself harder against him, shoving him into the edge of the counter, dizzy with the feel of your heart beating so hard against your sternum it reverberates against the ribs in his back. “No, baby. Why? Never.” You press a kiss right over the slope of his spine. 
He gives a soft laugh at the feel of your wriggling against him, trying to find friction anywhere and anyway, not very inconspicuously rubbing your breasts against his back, and he turns slowly in the circle of your arms with that humming laugh still caught in his throat, bending slightly at the knees when he wraps his own arms around your waist to pull you up and into him so that your feet are left to dangle above his own heavy boots. He nuzzles at the warm, fragrant skin beneath the edge of your jaw, a small kiss to the tender spot behind your ear, where he whispers, “‘Cause all I could think about at the goddamn table, sittin’ next to your father, was how pretty your tits look in that dress you wore for me – how much I wish I could kiss that pretty pussy to sleep tonight.” 
You whine low, desperate, needy, wrapping your arms behind his neck to press his face tightly to your throat, breath hitching at the feel of his teeth, sharp at your pulse. “Joel–”
He shakes his head slowly, a long stream of sighing breath warm against your collarbone before he says, “I know– I know, baby. I’m telling ya– your father should kill me for the things I wanna do to his little girl. For the things I do to her already.”
The visit had so far been everything you could’ve wished for, and what you’d appreciated more than anything, more than your father’s very approval of your fiance, or your mother’s happiness for you, was that Joel had found the perfect balance between being respectful, ingratiating even, while still remaining uncowed by your father. Walking into your parents home with your hand in his, a deferential kiss to your mother’s cheek, and a strong, self assured handshake for your father while he’d handed him the bottle of his favorite fine aged whiskey and a demure, I’m glad we could make this work for our girl.
Our girl, he’d said, and it had made everything that lived inside of you with his name on it, everything that was perpetually soft and wet for him, go molten. You loved him. You belonged to him. And you’d chosen him for yourself, and he was sure as hell going to make sure everyone the two of you came across knew what that choice entailed, what it meant to him. Your father had been forced into capitulation, all with the whiskey and the self assurance in Joel’s eyes, your own unbridled elation, and your mother’s giggles and blushing smiles like every other woman who’s ever met this man, unable to resist the charm of that Southern twang and the too gorgeous smile, no other recourse had been left to your poor dad. 
You think of this as you make your way on silent tiptoes through your parent’s dark, quiet home. It had been the one concession you’d not garnered from your father, the sleeping arrangements. He’d absolutely refused to allow you and Joel to share a bed under his roof, no questions asked. And no matter how much you’d pleaded and your mother had cooed and cawed and threatened him, he’d not relented. At this point, you were worried he’d not let you sleep in the same bed as Joel even after the two of you’d been married. But what your father didn’t understand, what even you yourself barely understood sometimes was that you needed Joel. You need him. No one, no one except for Joel himself understood how desperately that ran inside of you. He understood you, he always has. 
You pause as you reach the closed door of his bedroom, splaying a palm against the fine grained wood to take a settling breath, your heart beating so fast you feel it in your throat, chock full of excitement, lust, desperate yearning. To have him here, in your childhood home, where you’d been a teenager, a girl, grown into a woman, you want him so, so badly, inside of you, around you, beneath you. You can never sleep without him anymore, no comfort to be found in the too small bed of your childhood – you turn the knob and slip inside. 
The blue darkness of the guest bedroom paints his form in shadows, big under the pretty quilt your mother has adorning the bed. You can see the heavy mass of his shoulder peeking from beneath the edge of the quilt, the ratty gray t-shirt you know has a faded longhorn stretched across the front; not able to sleep naked and wrapped only in you the way he usually does when under your parents roof. You turn the lock and step carefully on tipped toes, avoiding the creaky bits in the hardwood floor you’re so familiar with after a lifetime living in this house and lift the edge of the quilt to slip into the cocoon of warmth with him. Like a living furnace, you snake your arm over his flank slowly, enjoying the shiver and jerk of his muscles as you stroke him awake. Your palm, passing over thick ridged muscles and soft belly, digging beneath to feel the wispy scratch of hair there. 
He makes a deep sound, low in his chest, legs shifting as he comes to wakefulness, and then the gruff murmur of your name being whispered into the dark, his big, callused palm coming to wrap entirely around your fist beneath his t-shirt, keeping you from slipping it inside his sleep pants. “Baby, what’re you doin’?” He slurs, voice full of sleep and slow waking lust. 
You press your pelvis into his backside, hitching your knee up and over his hip to wrap yourself around him like vines. “I need you,” you mewl, baby voice trying to get ahead of his polite refusal before he’s able to get it out. He’d told you, before the two of you’d embarked on this weekend at your parents house, that there was to be no funny business on your part. As if he didn’t know that that was your favorite kind of business where he was concerned. You press a kiss above his scapula, then open your jaw to drag your teeth against the skin warmed cotton. You rub against him, clutching and pulling at his chest and stomach, biting and kissing as much of his back as you can reach, your foot somehow finding its way into his lap so that you can feel his quickly hardening cock against the sensitive arch of your foot. 
He groans roughly. “You’re gonna get us caught, sweet girl,” he tries to protest, but wraps his hand around the little foot in his lap anyways, pressing the arch of it into that half hard erection, rubbing against it. 
“I need you– I can’t sleep without you,” you whine, and he makes a frustrated sound, turning to face you, gripping your knee as he goes to open the cradle of your hips for himself, drawing your leg over his waist so that you’re suddenly chest to chest, sipping on each other’s warm breath. With a fist in your hair he gives you a hardly believable reprimand, little girl, and presses his lips briefly to yours, quick and damp, barely there, like he can’t help himself, like he knows that if he starts he won’t be able to stop, wandering hands already slipping up the hem of your nightgown, squeezing your panty clad ass. 
“Your parents…” he tries again, the roll of his hips against yours, coupled with a hitched whine, making his objections a little laughable.
“Don’t you miss me? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me here with you?”
“Of course– of course I do–” You twist your fingers in his curls, the first real press of your mouths, his damp upper lip slotting between both of yours so that you can give it a little suck. Then the tip of his tongue touching yours, and you’re opening all the way for him, moaning wantonly into his mouth, letting him lick and taste behind the line of your teeth. “‘Course I want you here, baby.”
“I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet,” you promise. “Please, please, Joel. Please, just–” The hand squeezing your ass slides between your legs, finds the damp plaquet of panties. Fuckin’ soaked already, needy girl. “Please, just fuck me. I’ll be so quiet, I promise.”
“Baby…”
Please, please, please. He’s always had something about him that turns you into nothing more than a wet little girl desperate for the big, big man’s attention. The impropriety of your surroundings has no bearing on this, the desperation is as present as ever, heightened even, maybe, because of the wrongness of it, because you could be caught red handed at any second if you’re not careful, not quiet enough. 
“‘Course I love you so fuckin’ much. You even need to ask?” He rubs the flat of his palm over your pussy, the tip of his middle finger finding the nub of your clit covered by the soaked wet silk to press lightly on each pass forward.
“No, Daddy. I know,” you breathe soft and secret into his mouth, watch the slight widening of his eyes as you say it. You can picture the flush suffusing his cheeks at hearing you call him so, know the effect the sound of it has on him. 
“Fucking Christ,” he murmurs, pulling you tighter against him, tilting your head back by the grip he has on your hair so that he can deepen his kiss, taste you more thoroughly. “Better be quiet while I fuck you.” He pulls back, mock frown and a note of reprimand in his voice as his fingers dip beneath the silk of your panties to find the wet, swollen mess of you already. He moans into your open mouth, your name and I love you and wet fuckin’ pussy as he starts to pet at you slowly. His fingers swirling at your clit and then moving to your opening, dipping inside just a tiny bit, giving you almost nothing, forcing a frustrated whine up your throat. “I said quiet.”
“Please, Daddy. Please,” you beg, but he returns to your clit, ignoring your whining, pinching the bundle of nerves lightly before he’s back to teasing the mouth of your cunt, dipping the tip of a single finger in shallowly to pull your wetness from you and spread it over your mound, slicking you up for him. 
“We’re gonna go nice and slow. Gonna take my pretty cunt nice and slow, and you’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you? Gonna be quiet – not get us caught, right? Say yes.”
“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, pressing kisses all along his face and jaw and throat, needy fingers twisting in his curls, scratching at the back of his neck and the hills of his shoulders. He make an approving groan of a sound, rolling the two of you over so that you’re on your back, splayed out beneath him, and he pulls the vee of your nightgown down, bearing your breasts to him, sucking on each nipple, first hard then soft, then with teeth and tongue, slicking you in his spit, and you try and stay quiet, you really, really do, but it’s so hard not to cry out at the sight of his jaw hinging wide, seemingly trying to take the whole heavy weight of your breast into his mouth in one go. 
He always has you like he wants you more than anything else in the whole world, like he’s never wanted anything else in his whole life more than he wants you, and nothing feels better than that, nothing makes you crazier for him than the way he wants you so desperately. 
He makes his way down the length of you with kisses to your breasts, your ribs, your belly, the mound of your pelvic bone, before he’s gathering your knees together and bending them to press against your chest, pulling the lace and silk of your panties over the curve of your bottom and diving nose first into your wet cunt, taking in a deep drag of your scent and then dragging the broad, flat of his tongue from your asshole to your clit in one long, slow swipe. The groan he ends on has you almost coming on his tongue just like that, the sound so hungry it would scare someone who doesn’t want to be wanted as badly by this man as you do. And he eats your cunt like he’s angry, like he’s in love with you, like he doesn’t care if you get caught or not. Tongue plunging into your pussy, sucking on your clit, shaking his head, quick and hard, from side to side so that the obscene sound of your wetness against his mouth is all you can hear over the cacophony sounding in your ears right before you gush for him all wet and sweet and sticky, covering his tongue and beard. His lips wrap around your swollen clit again while it still pulses for him, and you have to shove your fist into your mouth, drooling around it to stifle the sound of your cries for his cock while he sucks you into a second painfully fluttery orgasm, your womb cramping hard and tight around nothing, your cunt clutching desperately at air for the cock it’s about to gladly take. The hum of his movements, of his whines and moans, don’t match his promise for nice and slow. They tell you this is going to be hard and deep and might even hurt, and that you’ll like it all the more for that. This is, after all, what you’d snuck in here for, just exactly this. 
He pulls away from your cunt with a loud, wet suck, popping your clit from his puckered mouth like a piece of too ripe, too sweet fruit, before crawling up the length of you, pulling your soaked panties and your nightgown from your body as he goes, shucking his own sweat soaked shirt over his head and kicking his pajama bottoms away. When he takes your mouth again, his face and beard are wet and sticky with your slick, all sweet sugared musk and the angry thrust of his tongue, his fingers, too hard and too tight wrapping around your jaw, grunting into your mouth as he sucks on your tongue. His burning hot cock thrusts between your wet cleft, the sound of your leaking pussy loud enough to be heard over the sound of your mingled panting breaths. You feel him grip himself, stroking once, twice, wide, blunt head bumping against slick soaked skin, before he’s notching at your cunt and shoving in, hard and fast. Not giving you a chance to think about it before he’s bumping at the mouth of your womb, a muted bruise you never tire of; his too big cock that still pinches every time, that presses in just on this side of too deep to always be comfortable, but you don’t care. The proof is in the hurt, and you need constant reminding that he’s real, that this is real. It’s your greatest pleasure, after all, the reassurance of him, of the two of you, and he never tires of giving it to you. You know that giving you the things you need and want from him, turns Joel on more than anything else.
He groans long and low into the crook of your shoulder when he bottoms out and holds there for several drawn out moments, both of you enjoying the pulse and throb of your connection. He’s so deep and you’re so wet for him, taking him so, so well, like he always tells you that you do. You’d felt, from the first moment that you’d laid eyes on him, like you’d been made for him. Put on this earth just for him to find and keep, and doing this, having each other like this, even after all the times you’ve done it, always feels like further proof of it. He grinds against you, hips shifting from side to side, tip bumping against the deepest part of you, before he’s clutching at your ass and flipping the both of you over suddenly, cock never slipping from your tight clutch when he settles you on top of him, buried to the hilt. You feel him in your stomach like this, and you tell him so, little hand coming to rest low on your belly where you’re holding him inside of you, pressing down so that the both of you can feel your connection from the inside out, groaning in tandem all wide and sparkly eyed as you look at each other. And he’s nodding his head at you as you start to shift your hips slowly, feeling the wet slide of his length, the grind of your clit against his pelvis, one hand pressing down on your belly, the other anchoring yourself on his own stomach so that you can rock yourself on him. 
He pulls one of your knees up, resting your foot flat on the bed to open you to his gaze, so that he can watch the way the thick root of his cock splits your cunt open for him to fuck up into. The two of you find your rhythm, you rolling your hips down on his upthrust, and he’s still nodding his head at you, mouthing words made of only air at you while you gasp and gulp for breath, I love you and you’re so pretty and yeah, ride that cock, baby. All you can do in return is mumble his name at him over and over again, Joel, Joel, Joel, nonsensical. Your brain doesn't work when he’s got his cock wedged this deep inside of you, it just doesn’t.
There's sweat pooling in the divots of his collarbones, the sun grizzled notch of his throat, and you fold over forward, changing the angle, deepening it, to lick up those little pools of salt, sucking on his neck until he’ll surely have incriminating bruises tomorrow. You don’t care, not even a little bit. He’s so yours in this moment, always really, but right now, Joel feels so, so incredibly yours, and you love him so much, and he’s going to be your husband one day soon and nothing else really matters besides that. 
He wraps both arms around your back, squeezes you to himself tight and starts to fuck up into you, fast, brutal, again, nothing nice and slow about it like he’d promised, and you’re forced to dig your teeth into his shoulder so hard you’re scared for a moment you’ll taste blood on your tongue. You can feel your orgasm crawling up your spine, pooling like liquid heat in your pelvis while everything goes tight and fluttery inside of you. “How mad would he be if I knocked you up right now? If I fucked his baby girl full’a my baby under his roof?” He grunts into your ear, and there’s the dip in your restraint. As much as you want to hold off and wait for him, you clench down hard around him with a sharp cry, mouthful of his skin to muffle you only barely. “Huh? What’dya think he’d say?” He continues, changing the angle so that his pelvis bumps against your clit on every punch in, balls slapping wetly against the curve of your ass while he pets at the tight ring of muscle back there, tempting you with more than you think you can take right now. “If you go all pretty and round and soft for me before our wedding.” 
You can't speak, you’re nothing but air and sticky, sweet wet in the shape of a girl made just for him. Too tight grip in your hair, and he’s jerking your face towards him, grunting into your mouth as he starts to spill inside of you, burning hot come milked out of his cock and deep into you, and he tells you again how much he loves you, tells you that you’re his pretty little wife because it’s already felt like that for so long. A marrying of your very selves despite the lack of legal nothing that means so little to the both of you when you have all this between you already. Tells you that he can’t wait to see his baby all full of his baby. 
When he’s finished pumping you filled to the brim he turns you over again, pulls out slowly so that the both of you can appreciate the sound of his heavy cock slipping wetly from your well used pussy, and when he bends to eat your mingled come out of your puffy cunt, only to then wedge your mouth open so that he can spit your fluids onto your waiting tongue, all here, taste how good we are, the only words left when it comes to this man and this thing you have between the two of you is always simply thank you. 
New Year’s Eve follow up
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sir-kuroo · 7 months
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.—♡ 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐄, 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 { K. KENMA }
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KENMA accidentally walked in on you in the airplane lavatory; @mrskenmakozume: dedicated to you like before and as always
︶︶୨୧ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⋮ pwp, semi-public sex, frotting, dry humping, penetration, slight dacryphilia, airplane sex xD (trust me with the outrageous places to have sex) 𖦹 @enchantedforest-network
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It was a bad idea opening up the link Lev sent, Kenma thought. He never expected it would be a hentai game and his curious ass played it while on flight. Great. He knew he couldn’t take it any longer or he’d get his balls blue for real. Pulling his hoodie on, he rushed to the restroom, opening the first available cubicle.
You both froze as you were halfway from pulling your panties back up. Your pussy was fully exposed from his sight.
Fuck!
He immediately turned around and was about to open the door when you stopped him, “Don’t! Don’t open yet!” You pleaded in embarrassment. “I’m not yet fully dressed some people outside might see me!”
Shit! He’s annoyed. Fucking annoyed. He’s already hard and you got him even harder. Just…Fuck!
“Hurry up.” He snapped. “You should’ve closed the door.”
“I did!” You rebutted.
Kenma glared at the door lock and flipped the switch. Some of the lights turned even brighter and the green sign from above turned to red. “This is how you lock it.”
You sighed and rolled your eyes! Did this person even realize that you’re the one humiliated here? The only thing he had was a pretty face, but what’s with the personality?
“Okay. I’m done.” You said, avoiding eye contact. He just saw you half-naked!
“We can’t go out together.” He leaned back to the wall, giving you space to make your way out of the restroom. Striding sidewards through the tight space, your ass grazed against his crotch. He tightly pinched his eyes close. He sure felt your shape through those tight leggings.
You were about to unlock the door when the plane wobbled. The toilet seat cover closed as you both struggled to keep your feet.
Ladies and gentlemen the fasten seatbelt sign is on. Please remain seated at all times.
Your body bumped on Kenma’s, throwing the both of you off balance, which had you stumbling right on his lap. Good thing he managed to sit on the covered toilet.
You both sighed as soon as it stopped quaking. However, your eyes widened when you felt his bulge poking against your ass. You looked back at him and he had that wide-eyed gaze and flushed face.
Now, you’re quits.
He’s quite the pretty boy though, bearing that cute and boyish features. You mentally slapped yourself! You shouldn’t be thinking this way towards the guy who just saw your privates and whose hard-on was poking your back.
You were about to stand up, when the plane seesawed and you fell hard back on his lap.
Fuck! Kenma took hold of your waist, keeping you in place so you won’t fall. This new position had his cock in between your crotch. Your soft cunt roughly rubbing against him. Your walls clenched with the friction as the plane kept on shaking while your hips matched the movement.
He's growing even bigger.
Kenma gritted his teeth and you bit your lip. It felt so good.
The turbulence ended yet no one’s making a move to stop and you just kept on squirming around him.
“W-we can’t do this!” You said, but your hips were grinding his length.
“Yes, we sh- we shouldn’t.” He said, but he’s doing nothing to move you away and you were both still hungrily rubbing against each other.
More! More! More!
He needed more! As long as he could still control himself, he better stop this now, right? That’s just sensible. He lifted you away from his lap, giving you a chance to run, however you pulled your leggings and panties down.
“A-Are you sure this is okay?” You asked with reddened face, taking his gesture differently.
His eyes were wide as he couldn’t believe what just happened. “I think so...”
He’s pretty sure that his fucking dick was now dominating his head.
He freed his cock from the opening of his pants. It wasn’t that difficult as he’s already full-pledged. Hastily, he put on a condom with agitated fingers. It’s better to be safe, though he had no intention of putting it inside you.
Guiding you on his lap again, your thighs sandwiched his cock and your bare pussy was rubbing his length. You rocked your hips, pressing your mounds further against his flesh to add a satisfying pressure against your clit, sliding and dragging the lips of your pussy on the length of his cock and coating it with your wetness. His hips met your rhythm and gradually increased it, until the plane teetered.
“Aaaah~” You moaned. You were both jolted! He accidentally slipped inside you!
Cabin crew prepare for landing.
Kenma wrapped his arms firm around your waist and you gripped on the side handle tightly. Your bodies were shifting together with every tilt of the plane. Both of you were no longer in control of your movements, yet it was very satiating. His cock was reaching the deepest and most pleasurable spots inside you, while the plane's brisk motions were giving him so much friction and it's getting him close to losing his mind.
You had to tightly latch onto each other with the intensity of the shaking. Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes. Kenma had his forehead pressed on your nape while you were holding his head, reaching a hand from behind. You both couldn't even manage to cover your groans and whimpers as the plane began its descent. Both of you were drowning in pleasurable friction caused by the sudden tilts and vibrations.
As the wheels of the aircraft touched the runway, his grip on your waist tightened even more and so was your hold on the side handle; the impact took you bouncing up and down raggedly and violently against his cock, getting the both of you to your destination, screaming and crying curses while you were being completely muffled by the engine’s noise.
You both trembled out of your orgasms, still throbbing at how intense it all felt and reeling in the pulses in your core.
Ladies and gentlemen we have now arrived at Galeão International Airport, Rio de Janeiro. Please remain seated until the fasten seatbelt sign is turned off. Current ground temperature is…
Your minds were empty as you caught your breaths, panting and limply swaying your heads. It was so good that your pussy and his cock felt like it’s burning hot in the right way. You both wanted more of it, but you had no energy left.
“Are you…Are you alright?” Kenma asked in an airy whisper.
You nodded your head silently.
“Can you walk?” Somehow, something inside him wanted to assist you outside but…
You blushed. There’s no other way or else you had to walk out together and people would be suspicious. You gave him another nod and stood from his lap, his now flaccid cock slipping out of you. You pulled your panties and leggings up and almost stumbled. Your knees felt like jelly.
“Walk closely to the wall.” He said gently.
“Alright, thank you.” You told him without looking back. You didn’t even get his name or whatever, but you sure would never forget his face.
Kenma watched as you walked out of the door.
Shit! What did he just do? First flight to a different continent and he fucked up. Literally.
Running a hand over his face, he let out a sigh. He hadn’t even asked for your name. All he knew was your whines were kinda’ cute…just like you. He blushed. What was he even thinking now? Did the plane ride rewire his brain?
Kenma went out of the restroom once he sensed that almost all of the passengers had already gone, though there’s a part of him that hoped you were still there. Even up to the baggage carousels, he sort of looked for you, but you were nowhere to be found anymore.
Anyway, what would he even do? Ask for your name and where you’re heading? He’s just here to visit Shoyo. That’s it. This would probably be one of the experiences he’d keep to the grave.
Finally picking his luggage up from the conveyor belt, he glanced around to search for his friend until the bright boy beamed at him. His name written in a white paper. “Ke-n-ma!”
Kenma smiled upon seeing him again after a long time. He looked toasted, geez.
“Shoyo,” he greeted back.
"Welcome to Rio!" Shoyo welcomed him happily. “Oh! I forgot to tell you.” He said with excitement. “This is Y/N! She’s the friend I was talking about to you. I’ll tour you two together. I actually booked you in the same hotel…”
The ginger head’s voice drowned as you and Kenma stared at each other, frozen and red-faced.
It looks like you were never done yet.
JOIN THE 🍷 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄! Get tagged whenever I update ♡
⏝︶︶⏝︶ ୨୧ ︶⏝︶︶⏝
© nekorei 2023 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.
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oftenderweapons · 10 months
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In Your Calvin's | JJK
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)
Wordcount: 9.6k
Genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established relationship
Rating: 18+ Minors, do not interact
Synopsis: Being Jeon Jeongguk's girlfriend is a great honour, but it comes with great responsibilities. When the commercial celebrating your boyfriend (very secret boyfriend) starts playing on everyone's and their mother's phones, it's time you face what it means to be loved by the most wanted idol of them all.
Warnings: Jealousy and general possessiveness. Swearing. Powerplay, switch!reader, switch!jk. Masochist!jk (?). Marking (hickey, writing on body with a pen), hair pulling (male receiving), edging (male receiving), spanking (male and female receiving). Teasing. Mild degradation. Dry humping. A very mild boobjob. Breast worship. Unprotected foreplay, oral sex (female receiving; brief male receiving), unprotected sex (be smarter, kids), rough sex. Mentions of cockring.
One last thing: 1. this was edited at 3am, please bear with me. 2. Sidenote: I try to be as neutral as possible with the way I describe the girls' appearance, however I wanted to specify that in this fic, I mention Candy having long, straight hair (and huge badonkers, but that's kinda canon by now LOL). It's just a brief mention, absolutely nothing major and holds no relevance to the fic, you might not even notice it; but still, I wanted to make sure I thought about my curly haired goddesses, and short haired queens, (or a combo of both heart eyes) and that I apologise for making this fic just a pinch less immersive for you. (Is this the right moment to apologise to small boobs princesses too? ily sisters, itty bitty titty committee 5evah)
Here's my masterlist, lemme just disappear very quickly. Enjoy 💜✨
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You knew Jeongguk had a gig with Calvin Klein. You've known it for months. You've seen him cut calories and hit the gym and dehydrate for a couple days before the shoot because he explained to you how muscle definition works, and crucial to showing a great slab of abs is being basically as dry as a breadstick, to the point of being cranky because you have drunk three glasses of water in the last forty-eight hours. 
Which all means, you knew his stomach would be quite surely showing.
And yet your world still stops once you're merrily sitting on your train back home and his half undressed form appears on the screen on your phone. 
At first you slam your phone shut, mostly because you're used to hiding your boyfriend away and that's the reaction you usually have when you open one of his flirty pics from your chat. 
Next, you realise you weren't on your private chat, and you weren't even looking at pictures in your phone gallery. 
You were absentmindedly scrolling. On Instagram. 
You unlock your phone again, and right there you're confronted with the very naked truth. 
Jeongguk. Is basically naked. On your phone. And it's for the entire world to see. 
Your brain slows down, as if the earth axis is tipping over a little in the opposite way. 
Something inside you snaps around the third time the video plays in front of your unseeing eyes. To anyone looking at you, you could be just an obsessed fan taking a close look at the fine piece of art, but your eyes are unfocused, your mind too deep in thought to register any stimulus from the external world. 
The vibration from the phone awakens you from your state of trance. 
“Candy, baby,” says the adorable lover boy calling you. “Have you seen it already?”
Your lips are sealed, and you can't quite bring yourself to speak, you don't know why. 
“I'm on my way back home.” You say, and the words feel like cracking a glow stick in your chest. 
“But did you see it?” His voice isn't as bright now. 
“I'm coming home.” You repeat. 
He's silent for a few seconds, and you can hear him sigh. “Okay.” 
“He's so insanely hot,” you overhear a girl sitting across from you comment. 
“I want to run my palms down the sides of his waist,” says her friend. 
You stare at them and you know you must look like a woman possessed right now, but you still allow yourself to incinerate them with a glare, as if your eyes could turn into flamethrowers. 
“Candy?” 
“I'll be home in ten.” And you close the call. 
On the way back home, you hear more people talk. More girls fawn. More women zoom in. 
On the escalator, you notice a woman fanning herself while staring at the screen. Another one even crosses herself as the ad from your boyfriend reruns on her phone screen. 
Every step on your way home is utter agony, and once you step over the threshold, you're not sure what you're going to do.
Jeongguk is in the kitchen in a sleeveless top, tattoos out, piercings glowing in the gentle light of the living room. And his hair is fluffy, which means he's probably just done blow drying it after taking a shower. 
The fact that the scent of his body lotion is still sharp gives you further indication of how recent that shower must be. 
“Hey,” he says, turning towards you with a bunny grin, which immediately dims once he sees your expression. “Oh. Bad day?” 
You bite your lip and stare at him a fair bit. Then, a bit more. 
“Candy, love.” 
You don't know what to do with him. Is he yours? Is he really yours? 
How come you come home to him making dinner, and being freshly showered, and being so domestic? How come you're living in his apartment, knowing his pass code, having an ID card for his apartment complex and his studio at HYBE? How come he gives you a copy of his schedule and talks about you over the phone on his weekly call to his grandmother and brings you to his parents' house? How come you go on trips together and you're the emergency contact to his fur babies and you make love two to four times a week? How come he's brought you to the town he grew up in and loved you down in the place where he lost his virginity because, "I wish it had been you since the very first time"? 
Who is this man? 
Is he Jungkook from Bangtan Sonyeondan? Or is he Jeon Jeongguk, your very own quiet, shy, reserved lover boy? 
“You're scaring me,” he whispers, putting down his wooden spoon and taking a few steps to stand in front of you. 
“Why me?” you ask, staring at his collarbones, too scared to look into his eyes. 
“What do you mean?” he asks back, sheepish. 
This time your eyes meet his. “Why me? Of all the women out there, why me?” You look down, taking in just how average you feel, every imperfection magnified in your eyes, now that you have so many people you're comparing yourself with, and competing with. 
“Candy—” He starts. 
“Everyone, everyone out there is literally foaming at the mouth at that commercial, and I'm here? I come home to you? I make love to you almost every night?” You pause and laugh bitterly at him. “I'm a fucking fraud.” 
He shakes his head and moves closer, grabbing your wrists. “A fraud, you say?” He tuts in disappointment, places your hands on his waist. “You're not a fraud, ____, you're my soulmate.” He leaves your hands once he feels them clutch at his narrow waist. 
Possessiveness hits you all of a sudden, and it is only mildly ebbed by his hands landing at the top of your ass. 
“I love you, and I make love to you because it's a fucking dream. You're a fucking dream, and I'm so upset that you don't see it.”
You're jealous. You're simply jealous. It's human and it's healthy to be moderately jealous. After all the comments you heard and read, it's fair to be jealous. 
“I reckon you saw the commercial.” 
“I saw the commercial and everyone's reaction to it,” you comment, slightly acidic. 
Jeongguk bends to place a kiss below your earlobe. “Are you angry?” 
No. Not just anger.
Your hands mimic his and crawl to his lower back, toying with the hemline of his underwear. “I'm not mad.” I'm disgustingly jealous and I don't like them having more of what's mine. They already have too much, they've always wanted too much and you always give it to them and I'm furious that it's not mine alone. 
Jeongguk wears a mischievous smile as he makes you take several small steps back, the back of your legs hitting the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?” 
You click your tongue and shake your head. “No.” 
The reply startles him, and he feels his mood dim. Did he—
“I'm not a jealous person, but this… God, this hits a new level,” you finally admit. “They already drool over you quite enough, and now they even have a video of you shirtless. How would I not be jealous!? Half the girls would have snapped your neck. If Yoongi ever did this, Kitten would have his balls dangling from her Mercedes keychain. I don't even know how Lace and Princess are handling their boyfriends naked on everyone's phone. If I were Tae I would seek political asylum in Greenland. Or maybe Tibet.” You take a large mouthful of oxygen before you launch yourself in another tirade. 
“Everyone's talking about grabbing your waist, licking your abs, tugging at your hair and shit and hi! I'm here! I'm the girlfriend! Sorry I exist! WHAT THE FUCK!?” 
Jeongguk laughs and lowers himself to your chest, kissing where your heartbeat echoes like a crazed war drum. 
“It's not fun!” you complain, significantly agitated. 
“Mh.” He hums as he moves aside the hem of your shirt, meeting the soft, smooth skin of your chest. “It was supposed to come out on your birthday, that's why's a bit more racy,” he explains more patiently. “But they decided to release it early.” He kisses a tender spot and your left knee tingles a little. “It was supposed to be a slightly too public boudoir shoot. But secretly it was just yours.” Jeongguk finds the cup of your bra and stares up at you as his fingers reach the hem and slide the fabric aside. “I was thinking of you when I made it.” 
And once his mouth wraps around your nipple, your right knee starts tingling too. 
“Must admit I had to push the limits a lot to finally make you jealous,” he purrs once he is done with the licking, sucking motion of his mouth around your tender flesh. “But I'm sorry I crossed the line.” 
What line? You think, your brain already hazy. No sharp line exists in the world you’re currently in. Just the loving, plush hills of Jeongguk's lips, the slippery slopes of his waistline, the sinuous curves of his hip bones leading you to his pelvis, and the soft curls of his luscious dark locks. No crossed borders, only gentle waves licking the shore, water and land embracing one the other. 
“Remind me who's the boss here, Candy,” he says, and you know he's playing you right now. “Remind me where I belong.” His mouth is at your ear as he whispers, “Show me who owns me.” 
The tingles are spreading as his fingers grab at your ass, his lips connecting with your jaw. “Talk to me, Candy.”
You’re not sure you can articulate words at this moment. Talking isn’t as easy as everyone makes it seem. 
His eyes connect with yours and he can tell you’re staring at his lips by the poetic detail of your lashes lowered over your cheekbone. 
It makes him chuckle, very gently, that he has all these details of you he adores, and that you have the audacity of asking him why he picked you, and why he keeps choosing you over and over. 
He loves you, his family loves you, his dogs love you. This is the way it’s supposed to be. 
His finger reaches underneath your chin, forcing your eyes to actually meet his. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he purrs, and as your lashes dart up, he shakes his head a little, loving the way you arch up a fraction, as if pulled towards him. “There she is, beautiful.”
You feel completely neutralised. Disarmed. All the storms brewing over you a minute ago are forgotten as soon as his sweet smile shines like sunlight above you. 
His hand combs your hair back, cupping your cheek and landing a kiss on your temple. “Are you feeling better?”
You nod. 
“What mood are we in?” You’ve asked him this question thousands of times since the two of you became serious, ever since he opened up about feeling too closed off to make a relationship work; and now, the fact that it was such a solid, valid ritual in your dynamics made it natural for him to ask too. “You need to talk to me, sweetheart.”
“I’m better. I…”
“Tell me what you want.”
You stare at him, at his shoulders, at his biceps, you trace his tattoo with your fingertip, and he looks closely at your finger, at it drawing swirls and circles on his skin. 
“Pick me up,” you say softly. 
And he does, immediately. His biceps flex and he grunts a little, not at the weight, but just because he knows the sound can make your toes curl, and he likes that a lot. His hands are wrapped around the back of your thighs, then they adjust to your bottom. 
“Next? Counter? Bed? Shower?”
You kiss him. Impatient, and needy, you kiss him. 
He opens up for you without hesitation, moaning at the sweet invasion of your tongue in his mouth. God, he loves it. It makes him melt, to feel your tongue slip against his, moving wet and sloppy, your lips plush and hot pressed up against him. He loves kissing you. Actually, he loves making out with you. He’s pretty sure he could come of that alone, and he tries to remind himself you have to give that a try. Another day. 
He places you onto the counter because he fears his knees might give out on him. And once he has you there it means his hands can roam all over you and grab your chest and toy with—
“No touching,” you snap at him, gripping his wrists and pulling his hands behind his back. 
His eyes go wide at the shift in pace, but he obeys. He also feels like he's awakening from a dream only to find out reality can be so much better. 
You dig your hands in his hair and he hisses a little as you tug gently, but still roughly. You think of all the people who wish they could do just so as you stare into his eyes, seeing just how turned on he gets as you manhandle him. 
You lean towards him and you notice him trying to kiss you, but you tug at his hair harder, holding him in place as the heat of your exhale fans over his parted lips and his chin. 
“You want me to own you?” you ask him, watching his muscles twitch as he fights the urge to grab you and put you in place. 
He nods. “Do me all the things no one else can.” He has a roguish smile as he adds, “Do me everything they won't ever, ever do to me.” And he is god of deception when he finally tips you over the edge. “Do me everything I want just from you, and you alone.” 
You watch him intently, then tug at his hair so that his head is angled upwards, throat vulnerable and exposed. 
He's staring at you with a mischievous glint in his expression, a walking temptation, and you can almost hear him say it, 'come on, do it'. And you do it. 
You bend forward and sink your teeth in his flesh, the tender skin caving in as your bite marks him softly before your cheeks move into a suctioning motion that you know will turn into a bruise. It just pleases you so. 
“Take a step back,” you order as soon as you're happy with the hickey. “Take off your shirt.” 
And he winks before he does. You watch the plain of his chest, the valley in between his pectorals leading you down to his navel. 
“I hope you're wearing your Calvin's,” you tease with a cocked eyebrow. 
He smirks. “Always in my Calvin's.” 
You snicker and shake your head. “Take off your pants.”
His forehead scrunches up in surprise, but he eventually obeys. 
He's standing in a pair of socks and his white boxer briefs. At least he didn't lie, they are Calvin Klein. 
“Do you want—” 
“The Calvin's stay on,” you sentence, then you descend from the counter. “Head over to the bedroom. I'll come over in a minute.” 
He stares at you, flabbergasted. 
“Oh, and I almost forgot: don't touch yourself. Settle down, hands on the headboard and wait pretty.” 
He blinks, unsure of where this is going to end or where it came from, but so blazingly grateful for it. 
“Okay.” 
You give him a quick once-over as you stand in front of each other. His abs are toned and defined, but now less alarmingly than the days before the shoot. His thighs are strong and you love how the material from the boxers wraps around them comfortably and smoothly. 
You dare stare at his crotch, at the way the fabric traces the curve of his length, so perfectly long and so perfectly thick.
You allow your fingertips to trace the curve of his spine, so lightly that it causes him to close his eyes, his head inched to the side as he shivers in pleasure. 
“Can I be rough with you?” you ask him, your hand reaching the small of his back and cupping the curve of his ass. 
He moves his hands on you the exact same way you did. “Maybe I like pain,” he suggests, and from the collection of tattoos and piercings, but mostly from the supercut of memories of him getting bitten, spanked and scratched by you, you’re reminded that you’re not dealing with the edited version of him he has promoted publicly. 
This is your boyfriend. Jeongguk. Your Jeongguk. 
You sink your nails into the flesh of his ass, and he hisses but smiles, pulling you closer, swaying his hips to tease your crotch with his. “Go get ready, babyboy,” you croon.
He hums invitingly and kisses your neck, trying to get you to move with him, but you’ve made up your mind already. 
“Go,” you repeat.
He pouts and grabs your hips. “Come on, what are you trying to do?” he asks, his brow furrowed, his eyes dark and wide and imploring for you to just follow him and spare him whatever cruel surprise you want to use against him.
You grab his wrists, making him unclasp his hands. “Go and you’ll find out.”
He hesitates and then he faces away, still reluctant, turning around a couple times on his way, checking if you’re following him — perhaps, maybe, hopefully…
Yet, you don’t move, not until he turns the corner to the bedroom. And then you make your way over, slow, unbothered. 
And you close the door on him. 
You head to the bathroom, wash up quickly, and equally quickly you cover yourself in his favourite lotion, taking special care of your neck and chest. Once properly buttered up and covered in nothing but pretty Calvin undies and his favourite Calvin jeans jacket, you’re ready to attack. But you stare at yourself in the mirror, and you feel like there’s still something you could do to give him a heart attack…
Oh, that, you think. And you get to work. 
Apparently he has behaved, as you find him lounging in bed, with his boxers still on, his hands laced behind the crown of his head, a fine slab of abs in full glow from the dark amber hue coming from his led lights. 
“Are we on a sunset gold kinda vibe— Holy shit.” He didn’t manage to sound as cool and aloof as he’d tried to be once his eyes landed on you. 
He wished he could take a picture of you and spread it across town, just so he could stare at it while waiting for a bus, or hanging out at Hongdae with his friends, and excitedly point at it while tipsy to holler “that’s my fucking girlfriend, that fine piece of ass fucking owns me”. 
He wished he could put you on an album cover and fill it with all the insane stuff you do to his heart and his mind and his body. How his heartbeat does a little hiccup thing when he sees you first thing in the morning, and how he’s spent every wish on fallen eyelashes over you, and making you happy, and building you a house and having fireworks for your wedding night, and having all his fans seeing just how incredibly fantastic you are to him, how you make him so happy and deliriously smitten and barely coherent when it comes to talking about you, and just… He just wants everyone to love you half as much as he does. 
And maybe for you to be only ever in love with him, so he doesn’t risk anyone thirsting for you enough to steal you from him. 
“What were you saying about golden lights?” you ask, climbing on the bed, your hand modestly holding the lapels of his jeans jacket together — it’s not time to destroy him yet. 
“I— I…” He tries to sit up, but you push him back where he belongs with a well-placed hand pressed to the middle of his chest. 
“Put on the red lights, love.” You grin devilishly, watching his doe eyes glimmer with wonder and disbelief. 
“Have I ever told you I am one lucky motherfucker?” he says, staring at your neck, at your face, at your hand, his palms already moving to your hips as you straddle him. 
“I just know it.” You sit on your throne — his lap —, stretch to the end table to grab the remote to switch the lights to red, and once the deal is settled, you let the jacket open. “I mean. I’m the luckiest because I have these, but considering you profit from them… You know…” You let your breasts show. 
“I know…” he says, entirely mesmerised. God, he is so easy, you think, watching his eyes scan your chest like a cat playing catch with a laser light. You mix your standard level of charm with a slow grind of your hips, so slow and gentle that it’s straight up teasing, torture at its blandest level.
“You make it so hard to think,” he speaks with a strangled voice, trying to make you move the way he wants, but you grab his hands with the excuse of lacing your fingers with his, only to drag them back by the sides of his head. 
“I didn’t know I could turn your brain into mush just like this,” you reply, feeling your folds moisten in an attempt to ease the sliding of your crotch against his length. Too bad both of you are still clad in your underwear and, according to your plans, would stay that way for quite a while, as long as possible. “You’re so whipped.”
“I am,” he purrs, and tries to get away with moving his hands back to your hips, but before he can dig his digits in the soft of your flesh, you tut. 
“You’d better not touch that ass, Jeon. Keep your hands to yourself if you want my hands on you,” you threaten. “Just to remind you who’s in charge, sweetheart.”
His eyes go wide and he moves his palms back behind his head as soon as you finish your remark. “Yes, miss.”
“Good boy,” you praise him, and you visibly notice him holding back from smiling at the praise. “Did you see my little mark?” you ask. “Call it a slog
an of sorts. A vision statement.” You shrug and push back the lapels, hoping for the lights not being too low for him to see. 
It has taken a while for your handy work to happen, mostly because it can be absurdly tricky writing in reverse, but thankfully you’re quite prone to graphic arts. 
Jeongguk rises a little, getting closer to where he can recognise dark scribbles on your chest. Unusual dark scribbles. 
“Is that… Tattooed?” he asks, and his eyes go wide as he meets your face. 
You cackle at him, leaning over and licking his lips, sucking his lower one, then travelling along his jaw, nibbling at his earlobe in a way that makes his hips jolt against you, buckling. “I can't have that tattooed, can I? Unless the world knows and it gets a little too permanent.” 
He frowns, not at the way he loses contact with your warm crotch, but because of the unwelcome realisation of what it means to not belong to you entirely. “I'm so sorry,” he sighs, trying to hold you, but stopping his hands before he can touch you. 
He goes back to his assigned position and begs you with his eyes. 
“Oh, no. Don't worry, it's okay.” To keep him distracted, you get back to a soft roll of your pelvis against his, and he seems to oppose, but it only lasts for maybe five seconds. 
His wound-up exhale convinces you to reward him further, lowering your chest so that it drags against his as you keep grinding on him. 
“Jeongguk, baby,” you murmur fondly. 
“So unfair… That I don’t get you like a girlfriend like anyone else…” He speaks, his focus spotty and frail. 
“What do you mean, love?” you egg him on.
“All the public stuff… All the PDA and the grand gestures. The stuff that makes it official, you know.” His eyes are glassy and fleeting as he speaks, and it really feels as if speaking were like making a necklace except he can’t quite line up the beads the right way and he can’t manage to get the string inside the hole and it takes a very long time for the words to finally turn into meaning and it’s all so frustrating. 
“I don’t care,” you reassure him, and this time you’re not unaffected either, the sentence stumbling out of you before you can even fully register the meaning you were trying to convey. “Can you read the tattoo, Guk?”
His eyelids lift through great effort, and in slow motion. You stop moving to help him focus on the writing, and he grunts at the interruption. He does not like that at all, and having you so close, so soft, so hot and wet for him is making his instinct vibrate with need to be inside you, move inside you, and then finally find his release in the welcoming darkness of your womb. 
“I—” He’s really trying so hard, god bless his heart, but he’s so unfocused and his vision is blurry and he needs to blink for a bunch of seconds before he manages to spell the message, and then compute it, and then smirk wildly before he bucks his hips up against you, letting you know that you’d better move on him. 
“What is it, Jeongguk? Mind sharing with the class?” you bait him with a cheshire grin. 
“Not sharing any of this,” he growls, and you can feel his arms jolt at the urgency to wrap around you, press you to his front and shove you underneath him, so that he can finally move as hard and as fast as he knows the both of you need. 
“Oh, don’t be a greedy little boy! Don’t you want to test how it feels to say it?” you tease him further, ready to push him to his breaking point. After all, that is what you’re always trying to do, get as far as it needs to make him go wild on you, barely coherent and entirely animalistic. 
“You want me to say it, don’t you?” he provokes you, feeling just how much the humiliation will further send you soaring over him. 
“I do,” you admit. 
He bites his lip and you look at him, you study the shape of his lips, the glint in his eyes, the dark shimmering of his lovely ebony locks, and the way his chest heaves with effort and arousal. “These tits own Jeon Jeongguk,” he speaks, his gaze piercing yours, holding you accountable for the undoing he knows will follow. 
“That’s right, isn’t it?” Your smile is sardonic, evilly pleased with his admission of submission, with him confirming, with conviction, that he is indeed entirely enslaved to his fascination for your chest, that he is so deeply enticed by it that just a silly part of you can guarantee you his unflinching devotion. 
“You know it’s right,” he grunts as your movements resume. And at this point, he knows this is going to take a while, and it will most surely turn out vicious. 
“Just checking in on you, making sure you haven’t found a better pair—”
“Don’t you dare talk to them like this. Not in front of me,” he hisses with a passion, and you chuckle at how chivalrously he defends your breasts from your own ill assumptions. 
“That’s so gallant of you,” you reply, your hands pulling his hair back, your tone fond and just vaguely lined with mocking. “Let them repay you for your kindness,” you suggest, as you start crawling down his body, your breasts landing heavily on his lap. 
“Really…?” he asks, first distracted and then extremely alert as he connects the dots. “With my boxers on?” He says with a frown. 
You shrug and smirk. “Maybe we’ll get rid of them later…” You sprinkle some kisses on his abdomen, your chest dragging against his sensitive parts. 
He frowns at the weight of them, so welcome, and yet deceiving as the fabric is hindering him from fully enjoying the act. “Please, off,” he huffs, tutting and fussing a little, but you decide to reward his patience with your nails tracing patterns against his chest, your fingertips drawing his areolae, your eyes hungry on his lost, bewildered state. 
“Not yet, love… Be patient with me,” you reassure him, tracing the rift in between the crests of his hips, one side, then the others, ricocheting between the bones on the two sides. “I’m going to make it so good to you,” you promise him, placing kisses all around the underrated perfection of his belly button — a huge ‘fuck you’ to the people salivating over him and never, ever knowing how such a minuscule inch of his body has you so irreversibly whipped. 
“Candy… Mh, love—” His voice has grown unbearably raspy and airy, so light it feels almost incorporeal, if it weren’t for the velvet smoothness of his skin underneath your lips, like marble that has finally received the breath of life, your boy an ineffable Galatea. 
“If you knew, Guk, if only—” kiss— “you knew—” kiss— “how sexy, and erotic, and exciting and poetic you look right now, baby. You look like art.” 
“Lemme touch you, I need you, I need—” he gasps and you’re almost expecting him to release a groan before he comes, way too early, much earlier than planned. But fortunately he doesn’t, he holds back stoically and cants his hips away. “For fuck’s sake,” he whispers, an arm covering his eyes. “I need a second if you need me to hold back.”
“Oh,” you reply in surprise, lifting yourself off him. “Are you alright?”
“Just give me some quiet for a second, Candy, don’t you dare even speak.” Jeongguk’s chest is rising and falling in wide movements, enticing and captivating.
Finally he removes his arm from his eyes, but he barely makes eye contact. 
“Guk?” You ask, worried. 
“Just— I’m trying to keep it cool here, love.” He wiggles his body a little, trying to get his boxers to fit a bit less tightly around him. “We should be smarter about this, you know?” His hands clench as he stops himself from reaching for you. “We should get a cockring for next time.”
You ogle him, then smile excitedly. “Really?” you chirp.
“Totally,” he concedes. He smiles even bigger at your smile. “Don’t tell me you bought one already.”
“Uhm… No,” you admit with a pout. 
“Dammit. It would have been weird, but I wouldn’t even have complained about it since it would pretty much save my ass right now.” He licks his lips, stares at you some more, and he groans and throws his head back at the renewed flare of arousal after he’d just managed to tone it down a notch. 
“I’m so sorry, bunny.”
“I’m alright,” he admits, his tone defeated. 
“Is this the right moment to suggest I ride your face?” you say, your grin now sardonic, almost drunk on him and the sight of his body shutting down for you, malfunctioning at the mere touch of you. 
He stares at you, wide eyed, nodding energetically, like a kid being asked if they want to visit Disneyland. “Guess it took a half naked commercial to get you to finally ask for it like you own it.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Careful or I can keep going with torturing you. I’m liking it anyway.”
“No no no, come over here,” he says with a stern and determined expression on his face, his hands reaching for the back of your thighs. “I’ve been waiting. Get comfy,” he encourages you, and after some manoeuvring you settle on top of him. 
He nods to himself, his nose nuzzling against the crotch of your panties, his mouth opening so he can feel your heat with his tongue, trying to get as close as possible.
Unsatisfied, his fingers reach to slip your panties to the side, but you slap at his hand. 
“Nope. You wanted the Calvin’s, and we’re keeping the Calvin’s,” you scold him. 
He frowns. “No, you were the one wanting them,” he argues. “Keep them on, you said.”
“Whatever.” You arch an eyebrow at him, but you also know he’s right and this decision has come to bite you in the ass. “Imagine how good it will feel once we take them off… And it feels a bit kinky to keep them on. Like… Like we’re having a quickie and everyone out there is waiting for model Jeongguk to come out anytime now, but once he does, well, he looks freshly fucked and everyone can’t stop talking about it— Oh, that!” you moan, your musings interrupted by Jeongguk trying to get bits of you in his mouth. 
You’re thankful for the brazilian cut panties giving him plenty of stuff to work with even with the underwear still on. 
“Stop me if it’s lewd but, dammit, I love the smell of you.” He drags his face side to side, basking in the damp, salty scent of your arousal. “I don’t even know what it is about it, but I like it so much.” 
“Keep doing whatever you’re doing,” you comment, your voice breathy. 
“Do you want me to keep talking?” he asks, and you just rub yourself against his chin, his mouth, and his words come out muffled. At some point you think you might have hurt his nose, so you ease the pressure a little, but he grabs handfuls of your butt and keeps you snug to his face, parts his lips wider as if he were really trying to eat you. 
He parts from his designed heaven only long enough to announce, “I’m pushing ‘em to the side, fuck it.” And you’re barely coherent, and he’s speaking with that intimate lisp of his, his accent heavy, like he can’t pay too much attention to words anyway. 
You don’t oppose. 
In seconds, his tongue is tipping inside you, slippery, and so hot, and you moan without even noticing it. Everything is soaked, his chest is covered in perspiration, and so are your thighs. 
You dare look down, and his eyes are closed as he is filling all his other senses with the sensation of you.
You bask in the sight of him, one forearm draped against the headboard of the bed, your other hand reaching down, to his fluffy hair currently tickling your inner thigh. You grab it, careful to be right between gentle and aggressive, in that way he finds so pleasant and sexy. 
He opens his eyes suddenly, and the moment he finds your eyes already connected with his face, he finds himself more eager to give you just what you need to plunge into oblivion. 
He gives you lush, slow licks, from your centre to your most sensitive spot, he takes his time, and moves into more sinuous motions, drawing curve after curve on his way up. He is unrushed, patient, and eloquent. He is luxuriant, explorative, curious. 
He loves what he’s doing, and he loves you and he’s showing it, top to bottom, and all the way up again. 
“Guk,” you breathe out, and it’s almost a hiccup.
“Yes, I know,” he murmurs against the bend of your inner thigh, right at the fold to your crotch. It’s so private, so sacred. It’s heartbreakingly yours and his and no one else’s. You’re in a shared space where nobody else can tell what you and him know. 
“Please,” you manage to say. 
He rearranges his arm so he can move two fingers along the seam between your legs, and then they’re inside, and he’s moving them right, rubbing them against the back wall of your entrance. 
As you tip your body forward, he moans with his mouth to your clitoris, happy with the new angle, and once you start grinding against him, climbing your way to your climax, he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t go faster, he doesn’t add pressure. He does not change one single thing, and you’re so grateful for the way he has come to understand you, your body, your tells. 
“Just right,” you encourage him. “You’re so damn perfect, love— Oh, there.”
That’s the last thing you can remember saying before he sets you off like fireworks. You don’t take much into consideration after that. All is fair, unless he’s holding you back. 
You grind, hump, moan, thrash just a little as you get too sensitive and fold in two, your forehead pressed to your wrist on the headboard 
as you shake your head ‘no’ but can’t bring yourself to stop from feeling everything he wants you to take. 
When you manage to recover, you whisper, “Okay, gimme a second.” And you try to unstraddle his face, but he holds you there, and simply avoids touching your sensitive parts, removing his fingers from inside you. 
“Are you alright, Candy?”
You nod and take some large breaths. 
He moves your panties back in place, then kisses your mound softly, affectionate, innocent even. 
“Can I do anything for you now, love?” He asks with a reverent, caring note in his voice. 
You shake your head, still recovering. “Can I lay on top of you?” 
“Sure thing,” he says, unlatching from you and leaving some room for you to realign with him, face to face, torso to torso, hip to hip, calf to calf. 
He’s still hard as marble, and the gentle grind of your pelvis against his causes him to groan softly. 
You press your lips to his to distract him. 
The jeans jacket you’re still wearing gives him something to ground himself, his focus aimed entirely at the feeling of the fabric underneath his fingers instead of the humid warmth of your crotch pressed against his. 
Just then, you bring your heels underneath your ass, rising to your knees as you swiftly remove your upper garment. 
The way his focus moves immediately to your breasts makes you cackle a little, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. 
“Candy, you’ll have to get that tattooed.”
“Nah, too dangerous. They might tell on you.”
He frowns. “You’re right,” he still agrees. Too dangerous. You’re dangerous to him too, and there are not many chances of him keeping some form of dignity if he could at any time see a tattoo calling him out for his undying liaison with your chest. 
He catches your wrists, making you lose your balance so that your torso collapses onto his. And he keeps you there, wraps you up in his arms. 
“Still jealous, love?” he asks you. 
“More than ever,” you admit, and you look into his eyes, recognising the feeling pooling in them. 
“I'm only yours,” he swears, kissing the side of your head, whatever he can reach, and it's so tender, so innocent, so magical. “What can I do for you?” he whispers, flirting with you. 
You wrap your hands around his forearms and bring them up above his head. “No. I want to do things for you.”
You press your lips to his gingerly, then start to kiss down, tracking his throat and moving further downwards, to his chest, stopping where his heart thumps against the petals of your lips.
“Beats so hard for me,” you comment lightly. “Do I make your heart race, love?” 
“You do, Candy,” his reply is strained, as if it hurt to speak at that moment. 
“But I—” You let your nails tickle the flat of his waist, the elastic band around his hips— “I also make your dick hard, don't I?” 
He moans eloquently, then chuckles at your teasing. “You so do,” he admits, embarrassed but also excited, and so so thankful for having found you. 
You grab the waistband of his underwear with your teeth, letting it slap against his skin with a dry snap. “Grab a pen from your bedside, will you?”
You look up just in time to catch his eyes flickering open, his expression coming to life slowly. “What?” he asks, confused. 
“A pen, from your drawer,” you repeat. 
“Oh.” He had been too unfocused and he hadn’t realised you were talking to him, as if the words were just sound with no meaning; however, now he’s paid attention, so he stretches to the side, exposing the slender twist of his waist to your reverent mouth. You kiss him there, his body contracting as your lips attack his ticklish spot. 
“You’re a menace,” he complains, giving you the side eye, but also offering you a boyish, loving smirk. 
“And yet, you love me.”
“You’re lucky,” he says, right before you nip at his skin in reprimand. “Okay, I am the lucky one,” he concedes, returning to you with a pen in his hand. “You want this one?” he asks.
You nod and stretch for it, then peck the mole beside his navel and make your way down. 
His underwear by now is bitterly persona non grata, still you make yourself okay with it and simply move the elastic down, exposing his hipbone more fully. 
“What you gonna do?” he muses, propping himself up and staring at you bent over his pelvis. You look at him and prepare the pen, staring in his eyes as you suck at your bottom lip, torturing it a little as you think. 
“Are you gonna mark me? Sign me up?” he asks, a mocking grin on his face. 
You move the pen away and loll your tongue out, drawing a thick stripe following the shape of him in his boxers. 
He immediately drops his cocky act and arches up, sensitive, holding on barely. 
“You think you’re so smart, huh?” you scold him provokingly. “Remember where this is all coming from,” you remind him threateningly. 
He gasps as your mouth sucks his tip through the fabric, your nails tracing the indentations of his quads. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You’ve got me.”
You nod to yourself. “I do,” you say, patronising just in the slightest. And because you can you rise, remove yourself from the way, and pull at his hipbone, trying to flip him around. 
He’s alarmed, but he follows your lead. You straddle the back of his thighs, bend down, and move his underwear down, the elastic stuck under the fold of his ass, further emphasising it. It looks plump and delicious, and for a moment you’re caught admiring him. 
He’s twisting his neck to try and see what you’re doing, filled with wonder at the way your hair tumbles over, and he’s mesmerised by the shine of it, the softness of the tips, like a brush, whispering at his skin.
You pick the right spot, then settle down, folded over his glute. His skin is hot against your touch and when you finally bring the pen to his flesh, you hope it won’t fail, despite the perspiration and the soft surface. 
Shamelessly, you draw the words like an inscription on a stone. 
Poetic, and dirty. Just the way you like it. However, you don’t give him the benefit of knowledge. 
You lean back, watch your little handywork with a surging of pride and love and confidence. You smack it, just because you can, not hard, not soft either, just sweet enough that it doesn’t feel like a violation doing it without asking his permission first. 
His muscles squeeze, and his breath catches. 
Because I can, your brain keeps telling you, over and over, like a mantra. You’re allowed to. He’s yours and you’re the only one allowed to. 
“You’re getting confident with this,” he comments, and suddenly your eyes are meeting. 
He looks like something you would paint. Something you would dream of, and then wake up and sketch down in the middle of the night, caught by some sort of frenzy, some urgency mixed with an impending fear of forgetting, of losing it. Losing him. 
“I’m gonna draw you.”
He doesn’t connect the words for a bunch of seconds. Not until you’re standing up and running out of the room and he asks himself, why, why the fuck is she leaving?
“Candy?” he calls, unsure. 
He tries to see what in the world you’ve written on his ass, but you’re making your way back in the room, tablet in hand, and your steps are bouncy and your tits follow the movement so his attention is divided. 
“What— Where—?” He’s confused. 
And then you’re perched on the armchair at the corner of the room, and the light from your tablet reflects on your face, and you look spirited, caught by some urgency he can’t quite find a name for. 
“Candy, for the love of—”
“Just a bunch of minutes. A quick sketch, no more.”
He’s been patient. He’s been understanding. He’s let you tease him, and he’s let you touch him, lick him, suck him. He still has your taste all over his face and chin and he still feels the phantom touch of your breasts against his crotch and all he wants is to feel you on him, around him, against him. 
“Please,” he whines. 
“Just a minute.”
He swells. Frowns. Thrusts his hips against the mattress. 
“Almost—” you say, drawing a couple more lines. 
You’re in his arms next. “Put that down, Candy.” His face is right above yours and he’s carrying you bridal style. “Put it down,” he repeats. 
You're very still. He's looking at your quick sketch, at the way it was all a rough frame and some basic lines. “You're gonna post that? Share it as some fanart instead of a live portrait?” He throws you on the bed and you clutch your tablet harder, trying to save it from any damage. He's on top of you next, grabbing the device and moving it to his drawer before he returns upon you, blocking your wrists above your head. 
“Are you maybe going to draw it faceless, so you can sell it as a picture, to decorate somebody's house?” He bends to your ear and nips at the side of your neck. “Let my ass hang naked on someone else's wall?” 
You feel overwhelmed and surprised by his counterattack, not really knowing how to react. 
He drags his body against yours, stealing a whimper from your lips. “I think you enjoyed topping a little too much tonight.” He flips you onto your front next, and you find yourself only mildly embarrassed that he's made only one tenth of the effort it had taken you to flip him. 
He slaps your ass, and it is nowhere as playful or light as the spank you'd given him. It is his turn to grab the pen. 
“Let's see if you can walk the talk, Candy. If you like the taste of your own medicine,” he muses, and he bites your ass cheek, bending over to start writing, but accidentally finding himself unable to resist the urge to sink his teeth in your plush flesh. 
“Since I'm not a selfish asshole, I'm gonna tell you what I'm writing. Here we go, 'This ass likes spankings from Jeon Jeongguk'. What do you say? Is it true?” 
You're panting, wiggling in his hold, trying anything to see the possessed look on his face. “It's true,” you admit, breathless. 
He smirks and lands one more hit on your ass. “Damn right it is,” he says confidently. 
He tugs your underwear off harshly, almost angry. 
Soon he's naked, and so are you, and he's slipping inside you while you're still on your front, your hips arched all the way up, cupped by his hands. “Let's make this fuck more fun than your drawing, huh?” 
And when he starts, goodness, you want him to never, ever stop. 
He's ruthless, and he only asks if you're alright once, after three strokes. After that, all's fair, and he's ramming inside you in a way that makes you gasp and arch further, trying to get him even deeper, to an even better angle. 
You can't really look at him, since you'd risk a kink in your neck, but he doesn't care. He only cares about his handwriting on your ass, and his name on it. He only cares about the way you're gasping his name, and sometimes, when he slams in at the right moment, the impact causes too much of your breath to come out, so the whispered begging gets punctuated by moaned-out, hiccuped syllables. 
He smacks your ass a few more times, his hand tingling, but the spanks seem to make you happy, so he doesn't stop, and he doesn't complain either. 
“You're jealous of me, Candy,” he manages to speak, slowing down just enough so he has more of your attention. “Do you have any idea how jealous I am of you? How hard it is to feel like you want to own me half as much as I want to be yours?” He's on his knees behind you, and his thrusts grow more patient, more luscious. Richer and fuller. “Sometimes I'm scared you'll leave me, and someone else will get to have all the wonderful sex I get to have with you. Someone else will get to see your face first thing in the morning, and become a character in your cartoons, and talk about you with their granny, and bring you home for New Year's.” His face collapses close to your shoulder. “What will I do with myself, then?” 
You turn your face and you finally get to see him. “Flip me around,” you order him, but your voice is fond. “I want to look you in the eyes while you fuck me like no one else has ever.” 
His hair is fuzzy with his perspiration, and his face glistens with a light sheen of sweat. “Sure?” he asks, in confirmation. 
“I'm sure,” you comfort him. 
He's only happy once you're below him, and he's on top of you, inside you. 
You clench around him, and he frowns deeply, trying to control himself. Still, he gives a sharp jab with his hips, and it steals your breath. 
“Like that,” you praise him. “I want you to fuck me like that. Like no one else can.” 
His eyes stay wide open, stubbornly nailed to yours as he starts moving. It's hard and slow, and it makes you see stars. 
“Do you still feel like drawing?” he provokes you, “Or am I fucking you good enough?” 
You hiss and bite his arm, both to keep him humble, but also, again, because you can — and nobody else does. 
“Maybe I could get on top of you so you can watch my tits bounce, and maybe that will make you want to draw,” you bite back, and next thing you know you're both sat up, you're on his lap and he's bouncing you on his dick. 
“Definitely feeling inspired right now,” he concedes. “Maybe I should stop and paint them.” 
You push him down and he's finally with his back to the mattress, you on top. “Or maybe you could shut your mouth and get busy so I can cum.” 
The slap lands almost immediately on your ass. “Dirty mouth. And a fucking divine cunt,” he speaks through gritted teeth. 
He lets you lead for about thirty seconds, during which he stays occupied with your boobs, grabbing them, slapping them, pinching your nipples, and then he grabs your hips and stills them. 
“Touch yourself,” he orders your roughly before he starts fucking up from below you. 
It escalates quickly from there, and in less than a minute you're gone, collapsing forward, against him, and he's so thankful because he's coming too and your kegels are squeezing him just right, and he only manages to say “fucking yours” before he abandons all his inhibitions and loses himself inside you. 
You come back to reality only, and you find yourself tucked in his embrace, his body above yours. You don’t know when he flipped the two of you over, but you like his weight on top of you. 
“Hey,” you murmur, combing his hair away from his face. 
His expression is lazy and satisfied. 
Well done, you tell yourself, almost giving a pat to your own shoulder. He looks fantastically fucked, deliciously edible and perfectly yours. 
“Hey you,” he replies, with the most heavenly, blissful grin on his face. No, too tired to be a grin, more like a glowy smile. It’s not fully on, it looks like those battery-operated lights when they’re almost out of energy, a bit faded, or maybe pale. Faint, feeble, dim. Soft. Muted. If his bunny smiles were jewel tones, this was the most delicate pastel pink. A powder baby blue, almost robin egg blue. 
You want to wrap yourself in the hazy glow radiating from him, gentle as a sunny dawn in late May. 
“So glad you got those Calvin’s,” you joke, and there it is, bunny grin, ten million watts. Apparently that makes his battery die because his head collapses to your neck and he doesn’t seem willing or ready to lift himself back up. 
“So glad I made you jealous. But also sorry,” he says, truly apologetic. “I’m happy we did this. I’m happy I saw you like this.” 
His lips tickle the side of your neck, and you squirm a little, but you try not to move too much. You want to be comfortable for him to rest on. You want him to stay like that on top of you forever. “I’m still maddish. But I think I can deal with it.”
“There’s more pictures coming,” he says tentatively, and he makes the effort to pick up his head to give you a helpless look, trying to protect himself already by giving you the sweetest pair of puppy eyes he’s ever used on anyone. 
“Oh, I’m totally getting your ass branded,” you reply, saccharine. “I was thinking I could make those ribbons, like the ones the police use, except I put my name on it and I wrap it all around your chest, so they can’t drool all over your abs.”
He laughs, and the sound is boyish and playful, and lovely. You fall in love a tiny bit more. 
“Can I see the pictures in advance?”
He hums as he thinks about it for three seconds, except he already knows how he wants to play it. “Mh…” he says some more, keeping you on your toes. “No.” He looks up, testing you. “But let’s say I hope you get that cockring ready.”
You pull your head back, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not naked in your Calvin’s, right?”
He grins, gives you a devilish wink. “Maybe.”
You grab his cheeks and squeeze his face and he laughs so hard you can’t be possibly mad at him for even a nanosecond. “You’ll be the death of me.”
“And your tits will be it for me,” he flirts back. 
You shake your head. “Brat.”
And he kisses you. Just that. 
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Before he hits the shower the following morning, Jeongguk inspects the damage you’ve done on him. 
He’s quite happy with it. A very faint bruise on his neck. A red splotch on his abs, and another on his hip, but nothing that won’t fade within one or two days. He knows you know the drill by now. 
He turns around to inspect his back, and he’s okay with it, nothing that will get him in trouble in case he needs to be shirtless or generically undressed around staff members. He drops his underwear and it’s only once he’s making his way to the shower that he notices something strange on his asscheek. 
Oh, fuck. Suddenly reminded of your little handiwork with the pen the night before, he bends to the side, trying to get a better view at his ass. 
He finds himself wobbling side to side, like a silly puppy chasing his tail, and that is exactly the way you find him when you enter the bathroom. 
A laugh bubbles out of you and you smack his butt playfully. “Do you need help with that?” you ask, cheery. 
“No,” he bites back, but he has the most innocent, pouty look on his face, and he is having fun a little. “Maybe,” he concedes, his voice young. 
You wrap your arms around him and rise to your toes, propping your chin on his shoulder as you hug him from behind. “I wrote, ‘Candy’s babyboy’.”
His ears go red, just the tiniest bit. “Really?” His expression is so sweet. 
“Really,” you confirm, confident, serious, and loving. 
“You’re not making fun of me,” he asks, vulnerably. 
“I promise I’m really, really not, Guk.” You kiss his shoulder. “You’re my babyboy. And my sexy man. And just mine, generally speaking.”
He nods, a happy, fulfilled look on his face. “Right.” He’s once more confident. Entirely adult. 
“Love you,” you reassure him again, and then you kiss his shoulder, again. 
He grins. There he is, your boy. “Love you too.”
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Hi it's Dita, the writer, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment to keep this poor gremlin fanfic writer motivated. Bye and I LOVE YOU!!!
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iamasaddie · 9 months
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a hungry dog on a very short leash
paring: dark!bfd!Joel x f!Reader rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 4k~ summary: one time you decide to cheat on your boyfriend is obviously the time his dad catches you a/n: I don't know how and why this happened, but I feel like this might turn into a series if it gets enough love! Special thanks to my beta for this work @multiversed-daydreamer <;3 warnings: dead dove do not eat; dub-con; no-outbreak; PWP (for real, no plot at all); manipulation; infidelity; explicit sexual content; oral sex (m receiving); degradation/praise; unsafe PinV; face slapping (barely); dirty talk; mention of anal; pain kink; no use of y/n MY MASTERLIST PART TWO ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪʀʟ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄ��ᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.
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You wished you had a better excuse for yourself when a towering figure of your boyfriend's dad tapped you on the shoulder, taking you away from the embrace of some cute stranger whose tongue was halfway kissing your glands, but you didn't. When you saw the furrowed brow of your might-be father-in-law the only thing on your tongue was a sticky 'oh fuck'.
You jumped up from the boy's lap so fast your head went dizzy and the man in front of you grabbed you by the shoulder to keep you steady.
"Mr. Miller," you stuttered, "it's not -"
"Please, don't insult me by saying it's not what I think it is."
No, it was exactly what he thought it was. You, his son's girlfriend, having fun with a guy who most definitely was not his son. The reason was not that important, not to him, at least.
You wanted to start explaining right away, how you've had a rough patch, how you seemed to only fight, how every fucking thing he did begin to drive you insane. How you couldn't even fuck him without getting irritated. How you just wanted… And that was where you were stuck. You had no fucking idea what you wanted. You had no idea what to tell Jason's pleading eyes when he asked you what should he do to make you happy. The only answer you had was 'don't be you', but it was too cruel to say out loud. So you decided to find out what it was you were looking for and somehow it made you end up where you were. In a shady club on the outskirts of town, where the music was too loud and the drinks too watered down, with your boyfriend's dad staring at you disapprovingly.
The stream of excuses and almost spilled tears flow out of you and the next thing you know is you're being enveloped in a bear hug, large hands swiping up and down your back in an comforting motion.
"I know, baby, I know." Joel's voice was deep in your ears, his usual green flannel was soft as you fisted the material on his sides, still shaking. "But I have to tell him, you know that, right?"
You shook your head, face still pressed into his broad chest, begging him against it, telling him you'd fix everything, you'd tell him yourself. You didn't even know why you cared that much, you were close to breaking your two-year relationship yourself, but the thought of Joel telling him mortified you. He let you go, studying your face and swiping a tear that escaped your eye.
"Let's go somewhere more quiet to talk, okay?"
You nodded in agreement and let him lead you to the area with private rooms. The space looked vulgar: there was no way the brown leather couch was clean, but you couldn't see it under the glitching red lights. The music filling the place was quieter and definitely was not meant to be danced to. You sat on the couch when he patted a place next to him.
"Now, I know Jason's a bit... immature when it comes to life, all of its' aspects. And I know that a girl like you must have desires, needs my son can't meet." His face looked different in red, you didn't want to see it, but it almost seemed demonic.
You hurried to oppose him.
"He's - -"
Joel raised his hand not letting you continue. "But if only you came to me, sugar, I wouldn't have the need to tell him, y'know? Since I know you're being safe and ain't gonna give my boy anything, ain't gonna break his heart, when it's just physical... It wouldn't hurt him. But when you go around the bars like that," he vaguely motioned on a tight silver dress hugging your body like a second skin, "whoring yourself out - -"
"I - - " You tried again, ignoring his bluntness and an endearment lost between condescending words, he huffed, and it sounded irritated.
"I didn't ask, sweetheart, I just call it how I see it. Let's make it a mutually pleasurable experience, hm? I'll help you way more, of course, but you can just owe me a thanks."
At that moment, when your head welcomed the gravity in a form of a nod, you couldn't explain to yourself why you cared about Jason so much that you were ready for any perverted thing his dad would demand. Was it even about Jason?
"Good girl. Come 'ere, darlin’"
You shuffled closer, your thighs flush against each other, but Joel tsk’d and in a flash of light his massive hand enveloped your thighs, pulling you on top of him to straddle his lap. You squeaked and he lightly slapped your thighs, rough palms creeping further and sliding up your already bunched up dress, fully exposing your legs and neon pink thongs.
"This thing here," he swiped his finger along the band of your panties, barely touching what was hidden with them. "It is like a neon sign 'fuck me, please'. Not a thing you'd wear if you weren't planning on having sex tonight, is it?"
You shook your head, not knowing if you're agreeing with him or the opposite.
"It's okay, baby," he took his right hand from your thigh and brought your face close to his by the chin. His left hand kept on your waist, thumb pressing a bit lower than your belly button. "I understand." His whisper was hot on your lips and when you once again opened your mouth to explain, or say sorry or anything, he used the moment to dive into you, crashing your mouths together. His beard prickled your chin and his lips were anything but gentle. Molding you to fit him, biting your lower lip so you would open your mouth further and let him inside, which you did. You hoped to taste alcohol - preferably a lot of it - on his tongue, something that would give a better explanation to what was happening, but the best you could find on his tongue was a hint of beer and cigarettes.
His hands slowly mapped your body, meeting around your neck. You were hot, your brain was melting from the lack of oxygen and the terrifying knowledge that Joel Miller was an excellent kisser and your body recognized it against all morals.
His tongue caressed you just right, teeth biting your soft flesh a bit too rough, but instead of pained, the moan that erupted from you was satisfied.
"Are you enjoying this, baby?" He looked amused, his eyes blinking with perverted pleasure. You were silent, your unsteady breathing betraying you. He lifted his hips a little, his clothed bulge hitting the wet spot on your panties roughly. "Come on now, get on your knees, I want you to kiss me somewhere else."
Your eyes widened, arousal being put on halt as the reality of what was happening overwhelmed your senses.
"Don't make me repeat myself." Patience seemed to run thin in Joel, opening the gates to something way more dark as his grip on your neck tightened. You felt if he squeezed you a bit more he'd leave a bruising handprint on your neck. Slowly slipping from his tense thighs you settled on your knees between his widely spread legs. "Go on." His eyes pointed to his ever growing bulge and you could swear you saw fire dancing in his pupils as your shaking hands started undoing his jeans.
He let out a sigh of relief as your hands let his cock spring free, the massive size of him intimidating to say the least. The last thing you wanted to do is compare him to your boyfriend - his son - but a rapid thought of how Jason had nothing on his father neither in terms of size nor girth still ran through your mind. His shaft was thick, you knew you wouldn't be able to wrap your hand around it and your insides clenched. He was veiny and tan, dark tip glistening with precum, inviting you to wrap your lips around it. You stared at it for a good minute, calculating how the fuck you're going to fit inside you - mouth or cunt - all good seven inches of him. You doubted he actually wanted to just kiss it.
"I know my cock's impressive, but stop fucking staring at it and get to sucking.
The polite, almost gentle Mr. Miller was nowhere to be seen, and he grabbed the back of your head, fingers tangling your hair as he guided you to his cock.
You did kiss it at first, getting to know the feeling of his hot skin under your lips, the salty taste of him on your tongue, the odor of his sweat and cologne - did he fucking sprayed perfume on his balls? - invading your lungs.
"I hoped you knew that 'kissing' was a euphemism." He quite literally took the matters in his own hands, squeezing your cheeks painfully and forcing his dick inside your hot mouth. Joel was too wound up or cared too little, going as hard as he did, shoving as much of his length inside you as he could - which wasn't a lot before you started gagging and gasping for air. Your hands went to his thighs, nails digging in the coarse material of his jeans as you tried to push away against his deadly grip.
"Now, now, baby, I know you can do better than that. Didn't my boy train that little throat of yours?" You moaned in protest, saliva dripping from the corners of your stretched lips and the man above you groaned in pleasure as another inch of his cock slipped inside. "I guess not."
You couldn't do anything but let him use your mouth as he pleased, bobbing your head up and down. "Come on, you need to take every inch, love. You're already doing great for me."
Something wild stirred your insides as a familiar wave of need dampened your panties further and you squeezed your thighs together either to get some relief. yourself or to suffocate your pleasure. You didn't notice when Mr. Miller's grip on your head loosened and you started to willingly force his cock down your throat.
You felt tears streaming down your cheeks in constant black waterfalls. Your eyes stung and your throat was full of his cock, but you continued inching further, the desire to touch the base of his cock with your lips ripping at your insides. You tried to see Joel through the tears, even with the blurred vision you saw his smile.
It was asymmetric and thin, almost maniacal.
"I love when you suffer for me, baby girl. You look so good crying on my cock." You gasped and as soon as your front teeth barely touched the sensitive skin of his cock you felt a slap burning on your left cheek.
"Careful, you don't wanna hurt me," the caress of his rough palm felt more painful, when he whispered a barely-audible "darling."
You nodded as much as you could, full of his flesh that somehow continued growing in you no matter how you tried to get used to it. He was close, you knew it by the breaths that were colored with little growls now, by the fact that he didn't say much more besides moans interrupted by occasional 'good slut, baby, such a good cockwhore' that made you squirm and press the heel of your foot harder into your aching core. The rough pull of hand that tugged you by your hair off his saliva coated cock took you by surprise, though. You were ready to feel his hot cum trickle down your throat, almost anticipating it, but when his hard angry length stared at you and he forcefully evened his breathing you knew how mistaken you were. Your eyes traveled back to his face in time to see him open his previously tightly shut eyes. He gave you another one of his smiles and patted your cheek, not caring about saliva and his precum covering your flesh.
"Good fucking girl," he exhaled, "but I have something else in mind."
You shivered when he got up, cock still free and bobbing, almost hypnotizing you to follow it with your gaze. You didn't get a chance, though, as he gripped your shoulders and brought you to your shaking feet. He looked you up and down, twisting his head to the side as his eyes stopped at your thongs. Without so much as a word, his large hand palmed your whole pussy, his fingers thick and warm against your aching core when he pressed into your still covered hole. "I see you're having as much fun as I am, baby. Good to know."
An involuntary moan escaped your throat before you could kill it when his palm pressed on your clit that by now was begging for any kind of attention.
He nodded to the couch. He didn't need to tell you what to do as you obediently climbed on it, draping yourself on the backseat, your pussy on the display for him.
He landed on the seat, his body half turned to you as his palm caressed your naked ass. The guilt filled your senses because at that moment you wanted nothing more than for his fingers to stray further, touch your dripping pussy no matter how wrong this all was. Be careful what you wish for, or whatever that bullshit saying was, you thought, as his fingers roughly yanked your panties down, a string of your arousal following with the garment.
"Fuck, now this pretty pussy just looks sinfully juicy." Joel hummed approvingly as he slid two of his thick fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around. He spread your lips and you gasped at the feeling of being so exposed.
"What a gorgeous hole, screaming to be filled, isn't it?" Apparently the question was rhetorical, because he immediately pushed both digits inside you, the stretch not yet painful but intense. He pumped into you a couple of times before letting out a whistle. "Damn, baby, you want my cock so bad your cunt is practically crying all over my fingers."
His fingers continued his twisted caresses, kissing and stretching your walls, sending a shameful shiver down your ass. "I love how needy you are, must've been neglected for so long."
Joel took his fingers out and you heard a slurping sound. 'He's fucking licking his fingers,’ you clenched your butt at the thought of it and felt the couch shift as he stood up, standing behind you with one leg still pressing into the couch to the left of you for more balance. "Don't worry, baby, I won't let this pussy starve." The tip of his cock grazed your opening and you held your breath in twisted anticipation. He'd more to take than you ever had and you panicked, preparing for the pain. Joel continued swiping his cock through your sleek pussy, covering himself in your juices and letting your anticipation grow. When his tip kissed your clit you moaned, shifting closer to him and he chuckled. "Ready, baby."
It wasn't a question.
In one swift motion his cock split your pussy open and he sheathed himself in your tight heat, splitting you open. The burning stretch felt like he was ripping you in half, exactly what you were preparing for. The thing you didn't prepare for was the feeling it left in the pit of your stomach as his tip kissed the deepest part of you. Your cry was pathetic, just what he wanted to hear as his cock hid inside you.
It was too much. "Too much. Too much. Too much."
You didn't notice how you started chanting the words out, suffocating either on your tears, or was his cock choking you from the inside?
His hands on your hips as he pushed you up and down his cock were nothing but a welcoming distraction from the ever-growing sensation. "No, baby, not too much, just the right amount for that greedy cunt."
He didn't laugh but you could hear the smile tainting his lips. Did you actually like it? Did you like the pain? Was your pussy gushing all around him just a defensive mechanism? You couldn't think about it as a new wave of arousal enslaved every nerve ending in your body and your pussy clenched around Joel's cock, the fact that he didn't dare to miss.
"Tell me how good it feels, baby. It feels good, doesn't it?" And it did. Goddamn you hated yourself for it, but being stretched on his cock on a leather covered couch in a sweat smelling room with vulgar red lights dancing on your skin was as close to being satisfied as you ever felt in your life.
"Feels good, da... Mr. Miller."
You prayed he didn't hear the little slip you allowed yourself. You didn't know where it came from, you never said anything like that to Jason, not him, not any of your other partners. Luck wasn't on your side when you heard the man behind you bark a laugh.
"Daddy, hm?" He brought his hand to your neck, squeezing it and bringing your back flush against chest as he bit your ear before whispering, "I think I like the sound of it, baby. Don't be shy. Knew you needed a daddy since the moment I saw ya."
You whined, cheeks burning with shame from what the words flowing out of his mouth did to you. Your pussy clenched around him and his hand landed on your asscheek, "goddamn, you perfect little slut, you actually like it."
His surprise wasn't there for long as he continued stretching you out on his cock.
Joel leaned away, dropping your upper-body to its initial place over the backseat of the couch. The zipper of his opened jeans scraped the burning flesh of your ass and the button must've left an imprint, he didn't care one bit, fascinated by the look of your cunt around his cock. You felt him move a little, one of his hands disappearing from its place on your hips.
"Should we send a little video message to Jason, hm? See if he recognizes your ass bouncing so sweetly on my cock? Or should I send him a picture of you pretty gaping hole and see if he recognizes that?"
He pulled out for the briefest of moments, lowering his head to see your empty pussy flutter, begging to be filled without words. Joel licked his lips, a new desire igniting in him, but he quickly shut it down, shoving his cock back into your wet warmth and sighing.
"I recon he won't. Good boy he is, but he never had that in him. He could never use you to the fullest of your potential." You heard the telltale blip of the iPhone starting to record a video and put your head lower hiding your face in your hands and hair. Joel didn't notice, he was too enraptured by the vision of your abused pussy swallowing the thickness of his cock with little to no resistance at all. "Good thing I'm here now, baby. Now daddy's gonna take good care of you." He smacked your ass lightly. "So, should we send him a little wanking present?" You understood that now most likely he had a video and it sent anxiety shivers down your spine, you felt you were on the edge of tears again and did the only thing you could do - started begging.
"No, Mr Miller, please, don't." You turned your head just in time to see him raise his hand highly and slap your ass once more, this time it was painful enough that you knew you'd have a bruise.
"What did I tell you to call me?"
You gulped down the fantom rock that was blocking your breath way. "No, daddy, please." You didn't hear anything besides his hips continuing to snap and create a wet sound between your sweat slicked bodies.
And there it was, a little 'whoosh' of a message being sent and then the voice of the man who was finding new ways to ruin you.
"Oops, my finger was so wet it slipped, so I guess that's your fault, isn't it?" He was met with silence filled only with the sultry music of the club.
Joel stopped fucking you and squeezed your asscheeks painfully, warning like poisonous honey filling his voice. "I asked you a question, girl!"
"Yes, daddy, yes, it's my fault, I'm sorry." Your eyes welled with tears but you couldn't say they were all from pain or humiliation. The way he manhandled you, the way he forced you to take what you didn't know you were craving made you feel lightheaded. You didn't think about what this would bring, submerging into the feelings of his body overtaking yours in the most primal way.
"You're not yet, but you're getting there, sweetheart."
He resumed the punishing pace, stuffing his cock so deep inside you it made you think you'll forever have the imprint of his veiny shaft and prominent tip on your insides. He was growling, pressing his sweat soaked shirt to your back as his hand found your throbbing clit. You whimpered, shame enhancing your pleasure as you bucked your hips to meet the rapid movements of his fingertips. Your need added fire to his desire as he let out animalistic sounds right in your ear.
"That's right baby girl, don't need to fight it. Take it, I know you like this fat cock stuffing you."
Tears streamed down your face, your body a rigid sex doll in his hands, made for his pleasure. Your orgasm punched you in your stomach and your lips parted in a silent scream. It was good, it was so fucking terrible, but goddamn would you be a liar if that wasn't the best orgasm of your life. Fear, shame, need and pleasure made an intoxicating cocktail that was now gushing down your legs and all around Joel's cock.
"F-fuck, fuck that cunt is choking me. Fucking hell," his growl was almost scary as his hips shuddered. You whined, your swollen walls cried in overstimulation as he continued pounding you, chasing his own pleasure with no care to your comfort.
There was something sickeningly grounding in it. You felt free of everything, thoughts, feelings even desire to move. You just let him use you however he pleased, your wasted body just a container for his pleasure. "Gonna fill you up real good, baby. Gonna stuff you so full, you'll feel it for days to come." It was the last thing he whispered before he let you take every last drop of his cum, covering your insides in him. With a heavy exhale he fell on top of you, pressing you in the sticky leather of the couch. You both just laid like that, your breathing mingling together as his cock softened inside you, still keeping his seed inside.
You whimpered as he stood up, finally taking his cock out and slapping your bruised ass with a surprising gentleness.
"Come on, baby, turn around."
It took you all the strength that was left in you to turn around, limbs heavy, head barely supported by your neck. Joel looked as fucked out as you felt, face and temples drenching with sweat, shirt crinkled and his cock out, glistening with all kinds of fluids.
"Now, be a grateful girl and clean my cock, will ya? I can't walk around with your cum all over it, can l? It'd be downright filthy."
You shuffled around, finding a good position kneeling on the couch so his dick was on the level with your mouth. Joel brought his hand to your neck and squeeze, pushing you lower. He didn't need to press hard, you went willingly, swiping your tongue at the soft flesh that now finally fit into your mouth without chocking you.
"That's it, darlin'" he sighed, looking at you with a mix of perverted pride and adoration. "Next time we'll see if that pretty ass of yours stretches for me as good as your lips do."
Next time...
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drunk-on-dk · 1 month
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Strawberry Wine, Stained Lips | Lee Seokmin (M)
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This fic is for the Cupid for You collaboration with @svthub, please be sure to go give all the fics and writers some love this Valentine's Day
pairing: Lee Seokmin x fem!reader genre/tags: fluff, smut, established relationship, boyfriend!seokmin, Valentine's Day centric rating: 18+ (minors & ageless blogs do NOT read/interact) w/c: ~5.6k warnings: mentions of alcohol (wine tasting), SMUT (nsfw warnings under the cut), pet names (kitten, love), some wine tasting inaccuracies but bear with me it's for the plot, pretty much pwp, no specific pronouns used but mentions of fem!anatomy & wears a bra
Summary: Your boyfriend decided to surprise you with a surprise getaway to a winery for your first shared Valentine's day. Seokmin isn't sure if it's the effect of the sweet wine or your honeyed smile, but he's found himself utterly infatuated with you.
A/N: this fic is for the lovely Indi (@wongyuseokie) who put together this wonderful Cupid for You @svthub collab. I know it isn't much of a surprise, but I hope you love this fic. Thank you for everything you did for this collab, and I am so excited to brainrot over DK with you after this fic.
nsfw warnings: protected sex (woohoo!), flavored condoms, switch!seokmin, switch!reader, both might be obsessed with each others thighs, oral (fem & male receiving), fingering, lots of kissing!, love bites, some overstimulation, lots of praise, aftercare!, may have gotten carried away with the smut! (this is literally half plot half smut)
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“We’ve arrived, my love,” Seokmin announces, softly tugging at the blindfold blocking your vision and waking you from your half-asleep daze. He had placed the delicate fabric over your eyes before you even had the chance to ask where he was taking you for your first Valentine’s Day together. Much to your dismay, Seokmin refused to share any hints about the surprise, and it had been a relatively long car ride to your destination. Eventually, you found yourself dozing off to the comforting sound of him humming along to the music in the driver’s seat. 
It was hard to not giggle as his shaky fingers worked at the flimsy piece of fabric, featherlight touches tickling your nose and cheeks. His own chuckle mixes melodiously with yours, knowing it’s unlike him to be so nervous around you. However, before you even had the chance to see him, you could sense the million-watt smile that buzzed from your boyfriend as he pulled in and announced the arrival to the much-anticipated surprise destination. 
As expected, Seokmin was smiling ear to ear, eyes scrunched up in delight as you acclimated to the sudden re-exposure of light, cooing at the way your nose scrunched whilst your vision adjusted. Blinking a couple of times, you peered out the car window as he anxiously awaited your reaction.
It took a few silent beats before you practically leaped out of your seat, your purse flying off your lap as you turned dramatically toward Seokmin with a thrilled expression. His eyes immediately light up knowing that he’s done well so far. 
“No way, Seok! This is beautiful,” you gasp, unable to contain your own excitement as you take in your surroundings. A slowly setting sun illuminates a vineyard before you, golden hues lighting the field from where you are parked, and a beautiful estate property is located adjacent to the lot. Your whole body is warm at the sight and the thoughtfulness of your boyfriend. “Please tell me that we’re here for a wine tasting? It’s not fair to mess with me like this, if not.” 
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N,” he beams, hands intertwining with yours before bringing one up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I wanted to make our first Valentine’s Day together special. We also have a couple’s suite in the vineyard’s hotel down the road.”
You almost melt in your seat from how considerate the day was that he planned. It actually takes all the energy in you to not scream your excitement to the world. You two had only been dating for a few months now, but Seokmin has treated you better than any of your other partners had before.
A shy smile crept onto your face, your own body shaking in elation now that you finally knew more about the night ahead of you. You have to refrain from throwing yourself across the dashboard, grabbing his cheeks between both your hands, and pulling him into a sloppy kiss. 
Nonetheless, you do find yourself leaning over the front glove compartment, pressing a multitude of kisses to your boyfriend’s cheek. He receives your affection gratefully, turning his head oh-so-slightly to capture your lips with his, and you delightfully hum into the plushness of his lips. 
Seokmin knows he better move before you really have the chance to pounce on him, fearing that you two may never make it to the wine-tasting if he doesn’t stop you in your tracks. He pulls away tentatively, motioning that it’s time to leave the car. “C’mon, we have a wine tasting to get to.” 
You can’t help but squeal, grabbing your purse and following him towards the estate after he opens the passenger door for you. Seokmin chuckles when he hears you mutter a quiet ‘pinch me, I must be dreaming’ in response. 
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“Good Evening, Mr. Lee and Miss. Y/L/N. We are delighted to have you join us for a tasting of our most valued Valentine’s collection,” the vineyard’s wine ambassador greets you both as you approach the venue, pausing when the two of you politely return his greetings before continuing his spiel. “As you may not know yet, the Cupid Estate is known for its historic collection of wines, and only the most coveted reserved wines are provided as selections on Valentine’s Day. Are you ready to join us and learn about some of our wines?” 
“I have never been more ready for something in my life,” you’re quick to agree. Seokmin gives your hand a slight squeeze as you look up at him, eagerness clear in your eyes as you follow the ambassador to your seating area. Seokmin is so endeared by the enthusiasm that radiates from your entire being, already feeling successful with his plans for the night together.
Your ambassador leads you to a tasting area located on one of the balconies of the estate. It's a surprisingly warm area with multiple heat lamps to keep visitors comfortable despite the cool February air, and there is nothing that blocks the stunning view of the vineyard that runs as far as the eye can see. You note that a few other couples are spaced out across the expanse of the large balcony and it warms your heart to be here with Seokmin - who still has yet to let go of your hand. 
The Valentine’s reserve collection is lined up before you, your ambassador noting that the rich red wine is already pre-opened to allow for the wine to breathe for the best tasting experience. You notice a few treats laid out before you as well; some cheeses, chocolates, strawberries, and other various pairing foods.
Your host works expertly to finish setting things up as you lean over to Seokmin, trying to keep your voice low as you share your continued excitement to be at a wine tasting, “there are pairing snacks! This is the real deal, Seokmin.” 
“Which do you think will be your favorite?” Seokmin chimes, entertaining the way your eyes dart between each bottle of wine. His thumb continues to gently caress your knuckles, he almost pulls away to allow you to fully take in the spread before you, but you’re quick to recapture his hand. 
“Mmm,” you seem to be in deep thought, gnawing gently on your lip as you survey the options. “Maybe the Pinot or Merlot with the chocolate? I do like the look of those fresh strawberries, though,” another pause as you ponder, and Seokmin has to hold back a chortle when you settle with a shrug, “I guess whatever wine will taste the best in the end.” 
Seokmin’s eyes are dreamy as he watches you observe your surroundings. Your own eyes are wide as saucers as your ambassador finishes setting up the area before you, turning your head to stun Seokmin with that smile he’s been fond of since he first met you. 
“Alright, lovebirds,” your ambassador claps with a knowing look on his face, gaining attention back on him as he holds up the first wine, extravagantly displaying the bottle before pouring a small serving into both of your glasses. 
“While this is a heavier wine tasting with mostly reds, we will be starting off with a rosé to wake up your taste buds. You can expect some notes of raspberry, some florals, and you might notice some herbal hints.” He beckons for you and Seokmin to pick up your glasses, urging you to observe the light pink color of the wine. “Please do note that this is a light-medium-bodied rosé, giving it the delightful pink color you see before you.” 
You follow as Seokmin holds the wine up to his nose, breathing in the scent of the wine at the same time you do. It’s enough to make you shiver, skin prickling as your cheeks warm from the smell of the wine alone. Seokmin takes a sip, which you follow yet again, savoring the way the flavor of the light wine bursts on your tongue. 
“Wow,” Seokmin practically belts out, his well-maintained composure faltering for a second to reveal the true goofiness of your boyfriend. You do earn a couple of looks from neighboring couples due to his sudden outburst. “That is delightful.” 
You nod, giggling and agreeing, used to how loud Seokmin can truly get when he’s enthusiastic, and continue with the tasting. “What do you suggest we pair with the rosé?” 
“I’d recommend one of the cheeses placed before you,” the ambassador holds a plate out for you and Seokmin to grab a piece, basking in the explosion of flavors as you take another sip and nibble on the cheese.
The ambassador allows you two to enjoy the rosé a bit longer, conversing on the flavor profile and asking a few more questions about the history of the wine before deciding to proceed. 
The next wine presented to your table is an iconic Zinfandel that has been a popular blend at the Cupid Estate for the past few years. It’s an aromatic wine that makes your ears run a bit hot. The wine also makes your heart pound a bit faster when you look at Seokmin, who hasn’t stopped praising the wine even though you’re only two tastings in, and he’s looking undeniably handsome in the setting golden hour hue.  
Following the Zinfandel, a robust Pinot Noir is poured for you two. Your ambassador recommends trying the strawberries and chocolate with the wine, as you had previously mentioned. The flavor is absolutely delightful, and at this rate, this wine will likely be your favorite.
A Merlot is poured before the finale. You’re not sure if it’s the wine or if it’s Seokmin’s touches that set your body alight, your eyes wandering to his hand that now gently massages your thigh as your ambassador describes the wine. You know it’s supposed to be a soothing action, more innocent than how scandalous it’s making you feel, so you ultimately blame the wine for the sudden throbbing in your core where Seokmin’s hand lays closest. 
Finally, the tasting ends with a Cabernet Sauvignon. It’s noted that this wine has been aged for years and is imported from a sister winery for this collection specifically. It’s full-bodied and a bit heavier than the Pinot and Merlot, and you’re glad to end the tasting with a special reserved wine. 
Admittedly, you’re glad the tasting was coming to an end overall. As much as you’ve enjoyed it, you’ve become hyper-aware of the cherry hue to Seokmin’s lips and how stunning his features look under the moonlight and dim lighting of the estate, the sun setting long ago. You sigh dreamily, enjoying another sip of the Cabernet, realizing just how romantic this short Valentine’s Day getaway is with Seokmin. 
When the tasting is over, your ambassador asks if you have any favorites. It’s an easy answer, the reserve Pinot Noir had won your heart, and Seokmin agreed without hesitation. 
“Please enjoy this complimentary bottle on us,” the ambassador chimes, providing the Pinot Noir in a gift box wrapped beautifully with the estate’s branding. 
Seokmin is quick to express his gratitude, but you’re both weary to accept such a pricey bottle of wine. “We can pay, I really do not mind. The service was wonderful tonight.”
The ambassador shakes his head, stressing that he is more than happy to provide it as a gift. “It’s not every day that I get to serve our finest of wines to such a lovely couple. Please take this as a token of appreciation for enjoying our wines, but also for being such a lovely pair to serve this whole night. Plus, don’t forget that Pinot serves as a wonderful aphrodisiac.” 
You both oblige, continuing to express your gratitude, but your jaw drops at the aphrodisiac factoid. You’re stunned when the ambassador winks before lightly cleaning up and leaving you two alone. 
“Thank you, Seok,” you coo, staring out into the night sky before turning to face him. He’s looking at you so lovingly that you practically turn into mush in your seat.
“Anything for you,” he responds softly, his hand finding home yet again on your thigh.
You feel the need to lighten the mood, the air suddenly feeling heavy around you as the tension seemingly grows thicker between you two. You lean over, motioning for him to come closer as you jokingly whisper, “Was that man who served us wine cupid? Truly, who was he?”
“You know what? You make a good point,” Seokmin’s smile falls a bit lopsided, and you’re not ready for whatever comment he has to make next. The wine has made him a bit loose-lipped since the ambassador left, and he’s becoming touchier and touchier by the minute. “I think Cupid shot me in the ass because I fell head over heels for you.”
You almost roll your eyes, laughing that he’s even entertaining your question, but then they almost bulge out of your head at the admission instead, “You’re head over heels for me?”
“Is that what I said?” He motions to himself incredulously, looking around in a manner as if saying ‘Did anyone else hear what I said? This person is crazy.’ 
“I think I heard something along the lines that Cupid,” you nod your head discreetly towards the ambassador who continues to serve fellow couples, “may have shot you in the ass,” you chuckle at the way he continues to avoid eye contact, “and that you fell head over heels for me.” 
“Hm,” Seokmin ponders, a blush running up his neck all the way to his ears. It’s so damn endearing that you yet again have to restrain yourself from showering him with even more kisses. “It may have been something along those lines.” 
“I love you, Seokmin,” you beam, loving the way his eyes dart towards you, clearly stunned that you’re the first one to confess your feelings, but still absolutely delightfully gobsmacked. “This has truly been the best Valentine’s Day ever.” 
“And I love you,” he breathes out, large hands massaging your thigh as if his words aren’t enough to display his feelings. “So damn much, kitten.” 
His actions and words make your thighs press impossibly tighter against each other, which does not go unnoticed under his intense gaze. His eyes darken upon noticing how you tremble under his touch. “What do you say we go check into our suite? Share our sentiments even more?” 
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You were barely inside the suite before his lips were brutally attached to yours, back pressed against the front door, and complimentary wine bottle dismissed on the entry console. Seokmin’s hands were everywhere as he drank you in entirely as if you were a glass of his favorite wine from the day instead of that damn Pinot Noir. 
Admittedly, he was addicted. He’s been addicted to you ever since he first laid eyes on you months ago and he just can’t get enough. 
His long fingers find home in your hair, woven between the strands before traveling down your neck, running over the small of your back, and settling on your ass. Seokmin gives you a teasing squeeze, pulling a soft moan from you that allows him to kiss you even deeper, his tongue dominating yours successfully. 
He tasted of the wine you two shared just hours ago, but it was even sweeter when it came from his lips. Even though you weren’t necessarily buzzed from the tasting, you were convinced you could get drunk just from his kisses and touches alone. 
“Seokmin,” you whimper, giggling softly as he nibbles at your bottom lip, the residue taste of wine seeping from his lips to yours. “You still taste like that Pinot.” 
“Is that a bad or a good thing?” He snickers against your mouth, panting heavily before pulling back slightly to observe the swell and stained red color of your lips. He’s sure his lips look reminiscent of yours. 
“So good,” you keen, hips rolling against his as his hands continue to knead at the flesh of your ass. You don’t even care that you’re already so needy for him, you’re absolutely shameless when he’s the one taking care of you. “Need more of you.” 
“Take it slow, kitten,” the name runs chills down your spine, and when Seokmin slots his thigh between your legs, you almost yelp at the contact of the muscle against your hot heat. “We have all night, don’t we?”
The delicious friction of his muscle against your clothed core coaxes you to roll your hips against his thigh, addicted to the way his muscle flexes with each jolt of pleasure through your body. 
“All night,” you parrot quietly, the words barely audible, and head lolling to the side as his lips make their way down your neck. He’s claiming you with each nibble of your delicate skin, sure to leave faint marks on your collarbone. 
Seokmin’s hands are gripping your hips, guiding your motions as you languidly roll against his thigh. “So warm,” he breathes into your neck, his breath tickling your ear and his raspy voice shortfunctions your brain. “I bet you’re soaked for me, kitten, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes,” you moan, almost painfully as you aggressively keen into him, his grip brutal on your hips in an attempt to slow you down as you chase your ebbing high. Occasionally, you can feel his erection trapped beneath his tight pants, knowing that he must be as desperate as you, but doing a better job at hiding it. 
You think you could cry, your clit is throbbing from the friction against his thigh, but it’s not enough to get you to your release, even when he’s talking so dirty to you. You’re growing uncomfortable, your underwear feeling damp and you’re positive you’ve left a wet mark on Seokmin’s pants at this point.
You’re desperate, hands clawing at his pristine button-up in an attempt to speed up the process. Seokmin isn’t one to tease, but he sure seems to want to take his time with you tonight. Thankfully, he allows you to peel his clothing off, assisting with your clothing as well, mutually undressing each other between wet kisses until you’re both left in your undergarments. 
Unfortunately, this means Seokmin’s thigh is no longer slotted between your legs, your underwear, and the slick between your thighs exposing just how needy you are for your boyfriend.
“Fuck,” Seokmin groans lowly, drinking you in for the nth time tonight, brain and hormones running rampant upon seeing you stripped down to your lacey bra and panties. His voice is rapsy before he lifts you into his arm, gasping when you feel his hardness pressed directly against your core even if it’s contained by his black briefs, and carrying you over to the plush bed. “You’re all mine.” 
Seokmin drops you gently onto the bed as if you’re his greatest treasure (which you might just be if you were to ask him). He’s quick to dive into you, lithe fingers running along your inner thigh and lips leaving a hot trail down your neck to the valley between your chest. 
“Please,” you beg, nipples perking up and skin prickling when his lips run over the lace of your bra, his hot breath making the delicate fabric feel bothersome and sticky on your skin. 
“Please what, kitten?” Seokmin’s hand is dangerously close to your core, tongue tracing circles around the area where your nipple is trapped under your bra. “You have to tell me what you want. I’ll do whatever it is.”
“Touch me,” you almost wail out, choking on your words when two fingers press firmly against your core right where your clit is. 
“Oh,” he coos, almost sympathetically, peering up at you between your breasts to see your reaction as he teasingly rubs small circles over your clit. “You are soaked for me, what a good kitten.” 
Seokmin has you trapped beneath him, spit staining the fabric of your bra and fingers rubbing lewdly against your soaked panties. “Not enough, Seok,” you whine, needing just a bit more. 
“Since you’ve been so good,” he sighs, the hand that has been providing support snakes behind your back, expertly unsnapping your bra and releasing your breast for his viewing. The other hand that has been working at your core hooks your underwear, peeling it off of you without any trouble and discarding it on the floor. 
His lips are back on your nipple, this time feeling the full sensation as he nips at the peak, making your back arch perfectly in time as two of his fingers line up with your hole. He dips them in shallowly before sinking in deeper, your walls clamping tightly around his digits. 
“My love,” Seokmin groans, his two fingers pumping in and out of your heat, shocked at just how tight you are and loving the way your chest rises and falls from how worked up he already has you. “You are so tight, even when it’s only two fingers. How are you going to take me?”
You don’t even have a response, releasing a moan as his fingers curl and scissor inside of you. “P-Please, add another, I can take it.” 
“Of course you can, kitten,” he chuckles, lips reattaching with yours and adding a third finger. He loves the way you moan into his mouth, capture all your pretty cries and pleas. “Doing so good for me,” he rasps, pumping his fingers in and out of your pulsing walls until he feels your thighs start to sake. 
“C’mon,” he coaxes, knowing you’re close to release and curling his fingers expertly inside of you. Your fingernails are digging into his back, surely leaving a trace as your whole body trembles and shakes with pleasure. You’re not even kissing him at this point, your mouth sloppily against his as you pant and listen to his guiding words. “You can do it, kitten. Cum for me.” 
You release a loud moan, the firey-hot rubber band snapping inside of you as you gush around his fingers, his lips recapturing yours for another passionate kiss as you come down from your high. Seokmin lets you ride it out on his fingers for a bit longer until he pulls them out leaving you feeling incredibly empty. 
Seokmin thought you’d be spent after this, and he’s shocked when you gather enough strength, flipping him over and straddling his thighs, kissing him one last time before you climb off of him. He chuckles incredulously when your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his briefs, pulling the fabric down his thighs and off of him completely, revealing his hardened length. 
You practically drool when his large cock springs up, pink tip dripping with pre-cum. It’s tempting enough that you slide between his legs, cock twitching as you get closer, running a kitten lick down the slit of his tip and swallowing his essence without hesitation. 
His hand darts to your hair, pulling you back up to his mouth rather than his cock. He growls when your sopping core comes into contact with his length, noticing the way you slot the tip of his cock strategically between your folds. “I don’t think so, kitten, tonight is about you.”
You indulge him for a while, engaging in a passionate kiss whilst grinding into him, loving the way his length runs between your folds so easily and jolting every time his tip brushes against your clit. 
“Seok,” you break the kiss, feeling overwhelmed and absolutely drunk off his kisses, ready to give in and sink down on his cock. However, you’re reminded you need protection. “S-Seok, do you have any condoms?” 
“Fuck, thank you for reminding me,” Seokmin huffs, nose tucked into your neck when he remembers another surprise for you. He sits up, keeping you on his lap and letting you run kisses down his jawline to his chin, frustrated when he can’t reach his wallet on the nightstand next to you.
When he finally does, you’re head lolls back in laughter at his second surprise of the night, so far that he has to wrap an arm around your lower back to keep you from falling off the bed. 
You’re stunned to see he’s pulled two condoms out of his wallet, both with illustrations of treats that you had just tasted earlier in the day with your wine, “are those what I think they are?” 
“I was just thinking,” he hums, eyes crinkled in amusement as he holds the two wrappers before you. “What about strawberry or chocolate-flavored condoms instead?” 
You giggle, grabbing and holding the square wrappers in your hand, a devious glint in your eyes as you reposition yourself on his lap. “You’re full of surprises tonight, Seok,” and you’re quick to dismount him yet again, falling to your knees beneath his thighs yet again as you contemplate your choices. 
It seems like a hard decision for you, Seokmin could almost burst as he watches you consider your options, your plump bottom lip between your teeth and looking so beautiful between his legs. 
“Let’s try strawberry,” you decide, opening the wrapper and swiftly rolling the condom onto his length. “Can I try a taste?”
“Of course,” Seokmin groans, eyes full of lust when your tongue darts out, running from the base of his cock to the tip. 
“So sweet,” you hum, lips closing around the tip and puckering at the sweetness of the artificial condom. “Just like a lollipop.” 
“Fuck,” he’s panting at the way you kitten lick his length yet again, lips and tongue sucking teasingly at his length as if you’re savoring the flavor of him. It doesn’t help that the lubricant of the condom makes your plump red lips glisten even more. “So beautiful. You look so pretty like this, kitten.” 
He only encourages you more, head slightly bobbing as you attempt to take more of him in until he pulls you off of him again. “Save some for me,” he demands, and you’re not quite sure what he means by that, but you allow him to pull you back up onto the bed. 
Seokmin is back in control, his hips trapped between your thighs as he lines his tip up against your core. “Fuck,” he shudders, running his head between your folds and mixing your juices with the strawberry lubricant of the condom. “Still so fucking wet, all for me.” 
“Of course,” you murmur, hips bucking when he teasingly dips his tip into your heat, prodding between your walls that so badly want to take him in. “All for you.” 
“Can I fuck you now, love?” Seokmin sighs, loving the way you look so desperate beneath him, leaning over you to trap you under him yet again. One of his hands still guiding his length between you. 
“P-Please,” you beg, and he’s not one to keep you waiting too long when you ask so nicely. Soon, he’s sinking into you until he bottoms out, filling you completely and wholly until you’re both groaning out in unison at the feeling. 
“Always so tight for me,” he growls, chest pressed against yours as his hand darts out to your thigh, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist as he tests the waters, rocking his hips gently until he knows you’re ready to take his length. 
“Fuck,” you cry out, losing yourself in the shallow thrusts of his hips. “And you’re so fucking big, Seok.” 
“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he coos, teeth nibbling on your jawline as he pulls out a bit further until thrusting into you a bit harder. A bit deeper. Enough to have you let out a silent cry, encouraging Seokmin and emboldening him as he begins to spear you with his cock. 
He lays over you, rocking into you and bottom out with every plunge of his cock, hitting you perfectly. His support hand makes its way behind your neck, pulling your lips up to his as he continues with ministrations, and you feel a bit fuzzy when his other hand grips your thigh that’s wrapped around his waist. Almost as if the plush muscle is what his life depends on. 
Your hands are everywhere, from his back to his hair to his ass, encouraging him to thrust into you faster and deeper. 
Seokmin knows what you want, deciding to sit up straight so he can grip your hips, holding them firm as he picks up his pace. His thrusts are so deep and so hard that you let out a pathetic noise with each hit of the sensitive, spongey spot inside of you. 
It’s absolutely lewd, the way your walls grip his cock so tightly that he can still feel the way they pulse around his cock, even with the barrier of the condom on. Your silky walls are like a vice, almost making it feel impossible for him to pull out, but nonetheless, he sets a brutal pace. The sounds of his hips connecting with yours are absolutely vulgar, mixed with his dirty praises and your incoherent pleas and cries. 
Seokmin isn’t sure how much longer he can make it, not when you’re clawing for his biceps, eyes screwed shut and breasts bouncing with each thrust of his cock. 
“So fucking beautiful,” he pants, nearing his end when he feels your walls throb, and he knows you are close to your second orgasm as well. “Taking me so well as usual.” 
He knows he needs to help you out, fearing that he may finish before you at this rate, He falls over your chest yet again, thumb finding your clit between your two bodies as he encourages you to reach your high. “C’mon, look at me, Y/N. I wanna see your pretty face as you come undone.”
It’s hard, but you somehow manage to look at him, desperate eyes blown out as you near your high. Your thighs begin to shake around his waist, and he knows it’s the telltale sign that you’re near your end. 
“That’s my pretty, kitten,” his voice is so low and raspy that you gasp, “cum for me, I want to feel you finish around my cock.” 
That’s all you need, the pleasure shocking your body as your walls convulse around his length, and it’s the most mindblowing feeling as usual when Seokmin continues to fuck you through it all. However, his release follows not too long after as you ride through your high. The condom fills inside of you, your pulsing walls still milking him throughout his orgasm as you both come down from the overwhelming feeling. 
You’re almost limp, drunk off his cock and pleasure, enough to not even notice as Seokmin pulls out of you, even though it’s admittedly a terribly empty feeling every time. 
Seokmin shocks you yet again when his lips find their home between your legs, suckling at your clit and tasting your release. The overstimulation almost burns your entire being, but you can’t stop yourself from lazily rolling your hips toward his mouth as he licks and sucks at your heat. 
“You taste so sweet,” he moans into your core, lapping up your juices and the residue strawberry flavor. “Always taste so sweet.” 
You can barely speak, thighs closing tightly around his head and it doesn’t take long for you to release on his tongue. 
Seokmin seems satisfied, realizing you’re fully fucked out when he can’t even get you to shower. He takes his time with aftercare, cleaning you up as best as he can and dressing you into your soft pajamas. 
He assumes you are sound asleep by the time he joins you in bed, but is delightedly surprised to see your eyes flutter open, staring at him like he’s the best damn thing in the world. 
Pulling you into his arms, he wraps you up and places a kiss on your forehead. “I love you,” he mutters softly, making you smile shyly as you cuddle in closer. “I hope you enjoyed this Valentine’s Day.” 
“It was the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had,” your voice is raspy with sleep, he might think it’s the cutest thing ever (sexiest thing ever), but if he wasn’t cuddled up with you, he’d go run a couple of victory laps around the suite if he could. “I love you too, Seok.” 
You fell asleep soon after, not having enough energy to watch a movie, but Seokmin didn’t mind. He found himself dozing off with a silly smile on his face, feeling accomplished that you admitted it was the best Valentine’s Day ever, but also that you both could so openly share your feelings now. 
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The drive home the next morning with Seokmin may have been one of your favorite parts of your brief surprise Valentine’s Day trip. The car ride was filled with fleeting, loving touches, your favorite sound of Seokmin’s voice singing or humming along with tunes from the radio, and you couldn’t forget the complimentary wine buckled in the backseat. 
Of course, you find yourself lulling to sleep as Seokmin drives, dreaming that one day the special Pinot Noir from the Cupid Estate can be opened for another milestone event in your love story with Seokmin. 
However, Seokmin has never been more shocked by you than when you arrived home, carrying all your belongings upstairs and pulling him in for another deep kiss. His jaw almost dropped when you pulled a familiar wrapper out of your purse, a devilish lilt to your voice as you asked, “What do you think about giving the chocolate condom a shot?”
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Happy Valentine's Day, lovelies!
313 notes · View notes
aeyumicore · 29 days
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☾ .⭒˚ untitled teaser ♡ zayne x afab reader
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⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: zayne x afab!reader
☾ .⭒˚ genre: teaser, smut, pwp
☾ .⭒˚ a/n: i wasn't gonna post a teaser but i cannot be stopped i have no self control LMAO. this will drop tomorrow night or friday night. it's looking like a 10k worder, i am deranged. POSSESSIVE JEALOUS ZAYNE I LOVE HIM <3. also the matthew referenced in this smut is completely fictional, i could not bring myself to use greyson i love him and zayne too much LOL. as always not proofread.
⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚
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“he couldn’t at least accompany you? make sure you were safe?” you can tell zayne is angry by the way his feet taps uncharacteristically against the floor, “taken you home?”
his questions remind you of your enormous and embarrassing blunder today and you feel so incredibly bad for matthew. and so against your better, albeit drunken, judgment, you yell, “he left because i was thinking of you, okay? matthew was a gentleman, he was funny, kind, nice, and charming, and yet i was thinking of you. and so i went to a bar and got drunk all on my own, okay?”
“you were thinking of me?” zayne’s voice is a mix of surprise and teasing, which just infuriates you.
“i am always thinking of you zayne! i thought about you at dinner, i thought about you when we watched the sunset and i thought about you when he kissed me,” you explode, your drunken lack of inhibitions leaving nothing out. 
zayne’s face is unreadable, but there’s a heat in his eyes that makes you tremble, “you were thinking of me when he kissed you?”
unable to bear it anymore, you burst out, “yes zayne, and when he kissed me i called out for you!” the confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can think twice about it. it takes you a while to realize what you’d just blurted out and you bury your face in your hands, screaming internally.
you feel his strong hands grab your wrists, prying your hands away from your face, wanting to see you, “you called for me?” his question is amused as it is intrigued and it frustrates you to no end, the mortification weighing heavily on your mind. 
“don’t tease me right now zayne, “ you warn weakly, “i am always thinking about you. but you…” your voice trails off to a shallow whisper, “you don’t seem to think about me.”
zayne is silent but his eyes are as intense as you’ve ever seen them, staring into you. 
finally, he speaks, voice filled with indiscernible emotions, “is that what you really think? that i don’t think about you?”
“do you really think i waited 5 hours for you to come back because i don’t think about you?” your breath catches in your throat at the pure and raw growl in his voice. 
before you can respond, he continues, “i think about you every second of every day. i thought about you all day, thought about you on your date with matthew.”
zayne shifts so that his hand leaves your knee and grabs your face with both his large hands, “i thought about him getting to hear your voice, get to touch you…kiss you. it drove me insane.” 
your feelings churn in your stomach and into your chest, making it hard to breathe. the way zayne is looking at you, his hands holding your face so possessively, threatens to stop your heart altogether.
“w-why?”
zayne doesn’t speak, and you watch as his eyes flutter to your parted lips as you pant out your breaths, eyes fighting to stay open amidst all the tension. 
“why did you push me to go then?”
his eyes force themselves into yours, as if unwilling to leave your lips, “i made a mistake.” 
his revelations quickly sober you up, and you’re left feeling vulnerable but bold. you softly grab a fist full of his tie, and pull him closer. you can faintly hear him groan under his breath, but he lets himself be guided towards you. your lips are so close you’re inhaling each other in, and you beg gently, “kiss me, zayne.”
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© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡
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pink-sparkly-witch · 4 months
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The Widow Timestamp: I Love You
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Summary: Sam tells Y/N that he loves her for the first time. This is basically PWP.
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader
Rating: 18+ Only
Bingo Square: Jared Padalecki Character for @j3bingo 
Warnings: flirting, kissing, smut, fingering, hand job, p in v.
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: My first journey into Sam smut… please be kind 😅 Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖
You can catch up with The Widow here!
My Masterlist     AO3     Ko-Fi
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SAM’S POV
“Hey, Dean,” Sam says as he answers his phone.
“Sammy, you better not bail on me tonight,” Dean grumbles, getting straight to the point as always.
“I’ll be there,” he responds. Honestly, the week he’s had at work, meeting his dad and brother at a bar on a Friday night is the last thing he wants or needs right now. A night lounging in sweats, eating Chinese food, and watching a movie he didn’t need to use too much brain power for, is what he really wants to be doing.
“Good. Just checking. Can only get you away from the office if it’s for your girl these days, so…” Dean said.
“Yeah,” Sam chuckles. “Sorry about that. She, uh…” he trails off with a chuckle, lost in thoughts of his girlfriend.
“I know, Sammy,” Dean says, and Sam can hear the smile in his older brother’s voice. “She can’t come, right?” he checks. 
“No, it’s her friend’s birthday, so they’re having a girls night,” Sam says, sounding slightly less enthusiastic than he meant to. 
“What’s the matter? Y/N got you so pussy whipped already that you can’t stand the thought of being away from her for one night?” Dean laughs, and Sam chuckles along with him.
His brother isn’t completely wrong. He and Y/N have been dating for almost three months and are blissfully in the honeymoon period of their relationship, where they can’t get enough of each other or bear to be apart for too long.
“No, it’s… I’m just tired, is all. It’s been a long week at the office. And it’s the firm’s family day tomorrow, so I’ll see Y/N then, anyway.”
“That’s right. She’s meeting all the big guns for the first time! Are you nervous?” Dean asks, and Sam sighs loudly.
“Yeah. I shouldn’t be. I mean, who cares if they like her, right? Because I do, and that’s all that matters. It’s just… if I want to make partner one day, things like stable relationships and who your other half is seems to have a say in it,” Sam admits.
“They’re gonna love her, man. I think it’d be hard for anyone not to fall in love with her,” Dean reassures him. “You found a good one, Sammy. Hold onto her.”
“I know, I will.”
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Despite his earlier reluctance to spend the night in a bar with his dad and brother, Sam is having a great time. With work and Y/N, it’d been a while since he’s spent this much time with them, making him feel a little guilty.
Sam’s worries about his dad and Dean teasing him about ‘his girl’ are quickly dampened when his dad asks if things are serious between them. Both men had smiled and clapped him on the back at his confirmation that it was and that he was confident she was it for him. The only slightly teasing remark so far has been from his dad.
“Better start saving for a ring, son,” John chuckles.
With both men grinning at him like idiots, Sam feels a hand slide across his shoulders. “I’m flattered, but I have a girlfriend,” he says without turning around.
“No, I’m flattered,” Y/N responds, and he smiles before turning to face his girlfriend. “And very reassured.”
“Hey, baby. What are you doing here? I thought girls’ night was across town?” Sam asks as he stands to kiss her.
“Well,” Y/N huffs with a roll of her eyes. “It was, and we were having a great time, but Charlie dragged us all the way over here because she found out the girl she’s crushing on works here. And, you know, can’t say no to the birthday girl!”
“Well, can’t say I’m not happy about that,” Sam chuckles, placing his arm around her shoulders. “You look beautiful, baby.”
“Thank you,” she smiles and glances down his body before she speaks again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear plaid before. I like it. It’s a good look on you,” she stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.
“Noted,” Sam chuckles, and Y/N giggles.
“Alright, I’ve had enough of this lovey-dovey bullcrap. Makes me wanna vomit,” Dean winks to show his jest and stands from the table. “Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?”
“No, thanks,” Y/N shakes her head. “I have one waiting for me at my table and probably three tequila shots by now. I just wanted to come over and say hi.”
“Do you, uh, wanna come to my place when you’re, you know?” Sam asks quietly, hoping it’s quiet enough that only she can hear him. His dad’s chuckle and Dean’s slap on the back, and a “Get it, Sammy!” make him want a hole to open in the ground and swallow him.
Y/N laughs, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment before he watches her take a deep breath and pull herself together.
“I’d love to, Sam. But the cardinal rule of girls night is that you can’t bail on girls night. Especially for a guy. You know that, right? It’s the whole ‘chicks before dicks’ thing. So, there is no way I’m getting to sneak away from that,” Y/N points to the table of women laughing loudly and downing shots, “before midnight.”
“I’ll wait up,” Sam grins charmingly with a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes, watching Y/N’s facial expressions intently as she takes in and interprets his meaning.
“Well, alright then. Guess I’ll see you later,” Y/N said, biting on her plump bottom lip.
“Yeah, you will. Have a good night, baby,” Sam leans down and presses another kiss to her lips.
“You too,” Y/N smirks, pulling Sam down by the lapels of his shirt for one last kiss. “It was good to see you again, John,” she smiles as she reluctantly parts from Sam.
“And you, sweetheart,” John smiles. “You’ll be over for dinner on Sunday, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Y/N returns his smile before turning her attention to the eldest Winchester son. “Dean, that table,” she gestures in the general direction of where her friends are, “is out of bounds.”
“What? But why? Come on, Y/N! There are some real hotties over—” Dean tries, but Y/N’s warning scowl and raised eyebrow make him back down.
“I mean it, Dean! I don’t want my friends badgering me for your number, or with questions about what they did wrong, or asking me to ask Sam to ask you why you didn’t call,” Y/N chuckles.
“Fine,” Dean huffs in resignation before walking over to the bar.
“Good. I’ll see you later, Sam.”
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Y/N’S POV
12:45am
The cab pulls away from the curb, and you walk up the path to Sam’s house. Stopping at the door, you take a second to fluff your hair. You’ve never been like this before; never bothering too much about your appearance and certainly never for a guy. Still, you found yourself touching up your makeup and perfume before leaving the bar to come over here, making sure you look perfect for him.
You ring the doorbell and nervously shuffle from foot to foot, wondering if the butterflies you feel with Sam will ever go away. You hope not, as the flutter turns into a swarm when you hear the door unlocking.
“Hey, baby,” Sam smirks, eyes slowly taking in every inch of you. “Glad you came.”
“Well,” you grin as Sam steps to the side, inviting you into his home. “I know what kinda night I’m in for, and I would be a fool to miss out on this.” You trail your fingers up his chest, grab the neck of his t-shirt, and pull him down to meet your lips, kicking the door closed behind you.
Sam pushes his tongue into your mouth and shoves you against the door. He quickly turns the lock, shutting you in for the night. The kiss is hot and heavy, and you whimper as his fingers tug at the zip of your dress.
You shimmy the material down your body and let it pool at your feet, leaving you only in cobalt blue lace underwear. Sam growls, grabbing your thighs and pulling you up his body. You wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, as his lips find their place on your cleavage, licking and sucking your skin.
Sam’s hand trails up your back and into your hair, pulling it hard enough to force your head back and gain access to your neck. He sucks and nips gently, cautious not to leave a mark, knowing tomorrow is an important day for both of you.
“Sam,” you groan, and fuck, is it the neediest and most pathetic you’ve ever heard yourself. “Need you.”
“Yeah?” Sam rasps, his voice deepened with lust. “Right here, baby?”
“Yes,” you gasp, already breathless, and he’s barely touched you yet.
Sliding his hand over your thigh and pushing it between your bodies, Sam pulls your underwear to the side and, without warning, shoves two fingers inside you. He barely lets you adjust to the intrusion as he immediately begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your tight, wet channel, smirking as you moan his name. 
Curling his fingers inside you, he watches your head fall back and thump against the door. “Fuck,” you grunt, your hands dropping from his shoulders and desperately fumbling with his belt. You love it when Sam builds the pleasure and teases you, but you can’t, not tonight. Tonight you need him now.
“Hey, what’s the hurry, baby? We’ve got all night,” Sam chuckles, but you don’t stop undoing his pants, finally pulling his belt loose and moving quickly to the button on his jeans.
With his jeans finally undone, your hand delves into his boxers and finds their prize. Sam is already fully hard, and you grip his cock and pump your fist as best you can while pinned against his door.
Sam growls when your thumb swipes over his sensitive head, turning you on even more. The wet sound that gets louder and louder with every pump of his fingers inside you should embarrass you, but instead, you moan.
“Fuck, baby,” Sam groans lowly into your ear. “I need to be in you.”
“Yes! Please, Sam,” you whimper as his fingers suddenly leave you empty and wanting. He pulls your hands off his cock and teases your clit with its tip before he pushes inside you in one slow thrust.
“Shit,” you whine, still not used to his generous length stretching and filling you so completely. You’ve never had anyone reach so deeply within you, and you swear you can feel him in your stomach.
Sam holds himself fully sheathed inside you, this time allowing your fluttering walls time to stretch to accommodate him, and his lips find yours in a passionate kiss that’s all teeth and tongue.
The second you feel yourself relax around him, he pulls out to the tip and slams back in, punching the air from your lungs. He doesn’t let up, pounding into you ferociously, and your high builds quickly.
Sam’s large hands grip your thighs, and you groan loudly, trying to remember to choose a long dress or pants to wear tomorrow because you can already feel bruises forming where his fingertips are digging into your soft muscle.
It’s become one of your favourite things; the colourful little bruises that litter your skin thanks to his groping hands. He’s an animal in the bedroom, but when it’s over, he always places soft kisses on every mark he leaves in his carnal state.
“Sam, I’m close,” you whine as you slide your hands into his hair and tug on the long strands.
“Oh, sweetheart, I know. I can feel it,” Sam says through gritted teeth. Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you, and you growl in frustration, tugging his hair harder to emphasise your displeasure.
“What the—? Sam, come on! I was nearly there!” You whine, pouting at him when he chuckles, tightening his grip on you and walking towards the sofa.
“I know, and I wanna watch you,” Sam smirks, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks.
“Watch me?” you murmur breathlessly.
“I wanna watch you come, and I wanna do it while you ride me.” Sam’s lopsided smirk creates another pool of wetness in your core, and you seem to have lost the ability to speak. “Is that alright, baby?” You nod and gulp, your words still failing you.
“Alright,” Sam says as he unwraps your legs from his waist and puts you down on shaky legs. He pulls your underwear down enough that it falls to your feet before ridding himself of all his clothing.
“Then get riding.” He smacks your ass, sits on the couch, and waits for you to climb onto his lap. You stretch your arms behind your back, ready to unclasp your bra, but Sam clicking his tongue stops you.
“Uh uh, baby. Leave it on,” Sam grins, and you smirk as you finally climb onto his lap and take his cock in your hand, placing it at your entrance and sinking down slowly. When your skin meets his, your head falls back with a gasp.
Sam’s hands drag up your body, pausing to toy with your nipples behind the blue lace. He slides the straps down your shoulders, exposing your hardening buds to the cool air briefly before his lips cover one and his hand the other.
Raising your hips up and down his length, you find a rhythm and angle that lets you feel every ridge of him glide perfectly between your walls, hitting all the right spots and making you see stars.
“Sam, baby, I…” You grind your hips through your orgasm, and Sam grunts as your walls clench him.
“That’s it, good girl,” Sam murmurs, kissing your sweat-slicked chest. “Hold onto me, baby.” He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders; you know it’s his turn now, and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.
Sam lifts you and lays you on the couch, moving your hands from his shoulders and placing them above your head, trapping them with just one of his own. His other hand grips your thigh and pushes it, forcing your legs to open wide for him.
The first thrust is heaven, hitting everywhere all at once, and you and Sam’s grunting confirms that your walls are still fluttering, clenching, and sucking him in.
“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” Sam groans, his hips moving impossibly faster and pushing in deeper and deeper.
Your eyes roll, and you scream Sam’s name as he sends you soaring over the edge again, taking him with you.
“Fuck, Y/N!” Sam gasps, grinding himself into you, and you feel his release coat your quivering walls. “Fuck, my girl’s got a good pussy. So fucking good, baby.” You’d giggle at his praise if you hadn’t lost the ability to breathe, let alone speak.
Sam drops his head to your chest, kissing over every inch as he grinds against your cervix. You moan with every twitch of him inside you, and when his kisses turn to bites and sucks, you add a high neckline to the list of requirements for tomorrow’s outfit.
He lets go of your hands, and they instantly go to him, wrapping around his back and holding him against you for a little longer.
“I love you,” Sam says, leaving your breasts alone to look at you.
“Yeah?” you smile widely. It’s the first time either of you has said it, and it feels good. It feels right. “You’re not just saying that in your post-orgasmic haze?” you chuckle.
“No. I have for a while now. I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you, too, Sam.”
Tags: @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @octoberclidan @nelachu2423 @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567
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himbocoups · 1 year
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˗ˋˏ Red Horn ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only
synopsis: devils are contract workers - simply offer them a payment that they can never refuse, and your problems would be taken care of. the only thing is, what could a mere human possibly offer to a devil?
pairing: devil!jeonghan x innocent!reader (gn afab)
genre: fantasy, supernatural | smut, pwp
tags: flirting, food mention, office | bondage, light choking, creampie, dirty talk, fingering, oral, pet names, pnv, praise, if there's a term for jeonghan fucking you with one of his devil horns please tell me, reader wears lingerie, reader's first time, multiple orgasms...
wc: 5.4k
message from nu: this took me super long to write, but this has to be one of my favorites. special thank you to xan @aceofvernons and june @junkissed for keeping me company while I worked on the fic. I hope you all enjoy reading - nu <3
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In the distance, the elevator dings sharp and clear, its ring piercing through the reception lounge as its large plum-colored crystal doors open with a rumble. Even when you sit facing away from the reception desk, you can imagine the receptionist greeting the incomer with their monotonous voice, drawling out the same script they gave to you – jet black orbs staring at you judgmentally while you try to scribble your personal information on the forms as fast as you can.
A large Prometheus-type creature in the seat across from you whimpers when its name is called, head hunched and practically trembling with every stride toward the smiling attendant. Open space in front of you, you can see through the large glass windows the hundreds of skyscrapers and verdant greenery where feet touch the ground under the red sky. This place is but a stretch, an affected area of Hell – at least for those who are not native. Even this lounge, untouched coffee bar with expensive Keurig models, circa 1920s sleek leather Barcelonas, and low mid-century style coffee tables with old filled-in Highlights magazines as table decorations, is deceiving in its own way. Because, if it wasn’t clear enough, all of you are in Hell.
Sharp teeth chattering, long tails thumping in anxiety, and sheepish whimpers, the atmosphere in what could be a beautiful place is filled with layers of dread and fear. You sit in your chair, right hand brought to your lips, while slowly peeling the layers of chipped skin off your lips, the light sweater you wore in the morning feeling as heavy as a weighted blanket. Flicking away the loose pieces to the floor a few inches away from your fuzzy teddy bear slippers, you slink further into your seat with thoughts of what could possibly come next weighing you down.
You wanted it. Correction. You still want it, even when the soft jazz playing from the speakers barely masks the distant screams and screeches that echo throughout the many halls and floors in the building. So desperate to have your need fulfilled you would even beg a devil, the devil, for even an ounce of that fulfillment.
So, when a siren with beautiful wings adorned with brown speckled feathers calls your name, you answer with a squeak and scramble to meet them in the corridor of one of the halls where they wait patiently for you with a kind smile on their face. The creature’s feathers ruffle as it elegantly struts down the bright corridor, passing various framed artworks and accolades, a file folder nestled under the crook of its left wing. Too deep in your mind, nitpicking at your outfit choice and squeaky voice whenever you answer the siren’s small talk, you fail to even notice that it isn’t the usual demon who is walking you to their office.
And the office, matte black large double doors that seem to aggrandize the more you stare at it, seems to you the most daunting thing you’ve ever experienced, dreading what’s on the other side of the doors. The doors automatically swing open when the siren approaches, and a rich puff of aroma fills your senses – strongly smoked tea leaves, spices, and aged tannin from the great oak trees you spent your vacations under during summer camps. Immersive, sultry, powerful…frightening.
The creature beckons you to follow them inside, the doors slamming shut when you enter the threshold. If you were dreading the office's interior - perhaps a grotesque chamber too scary to imagine, then the reality only confuses you. Plush gray Persian rug you’re too scared to step on, mahogany desk sitting at the end of the room, a large fish tank built into one of the walls big enough to hold a shark. It would look like a standard luxury CEO office if it weren’t for the shelves of trinkets from collectible matchbooks to eyeless Sylvanian Family figures to mysterious chained and muffled floating orbs that stand behind the desk.
Taking a seat in front of the desk, you watch the siren slowly stalk behind the desk, perching itself in the leather executive chair to rifle through the files with its back turned towards you. Your hands find each other in your lap, folded together, the right thumb twiddling with the left. It is awfully quiet, and the atmosphere is just as bad as it was in the lounge. No part of you wants to spark a conversation, afraid that the slightest conversation error could send you on a one-way ticket into the depths of hell. Does their boss know they are sitting in their boss’ seat?
However, when the leather chair turns around, you see a man frowning at what you assume to be your file – your attendant long gone. He flicks away his remaining brown feathers, letting his disguise dissipate into thin air while craning his head to the left and right to stretch his neck. A tri-toned nameplate appears at the front of his messy desk, deep burgundy red with a black center dark enough that you could mistake it for a void. Written in gold is the name “Yoon Jeonghan,” and in a smaller font underneath is his official title.
The devil, as the plate reads, cocks an eyebrow at you through his long curtain bangs, causing you to take a craven stance – wincing and lowering your head so you don’t meet his eyes. Taking a page out of the file, he presses it against the desk and slides the page towards you, twisting it with his long nimble fingers in one smooth motion so the words face you upright.
“You summoned me via a crocheted sweater, a three-year-old three-wick seasonal autumnal candle that smells like pumpkin pie, and a tiny crushed packet of Prince Noodles you found at the back of your snack cabinet?” His voice is light and airy, but the terrifying smoothness and the seemingly innocuous nature of his tone only deceive the listener – he is a creature filled with malice and iniquity.
Slamming his palm against the table, he drags the page towards himself, creasing it with the strength and anger he exerts. The slapping sound causes you to flinch, and your eyes continue to stay trained on your lap, the shrill sound of the slap still ringing in your ears.
“Look at me,” he commands you in a low tone, a voice dipped in a thick vat of bubbling tar. “Summoning me with trash? Do I look like a joke to you?”
Scared you might combust into flames the moment you look at him, yet too scared to defy his command, you slowly lift your head to look at the man sitting across from you for the first time.
If his verbal command isn’t enough to evoke fear in the most draconian demons, perhaps his physical properties - his presence and his chiseled facial structure - command creatures differently. Dark brown eyes and thin-lipped, bottom lip slick and catching the light after he runs his tongue over it while scoffing at you, you have to admit the devil is strikingly handsome in his features. Pure sybarite from the decoration of his office to the decorations he wears, he outfits himself in leather garb. Fashionable thick leather blazer with a belt cinched around the waist, a silver chain dangles around his neck, sparkling in hues of red. And the horns that sit at the top of his head, dark crimson red with the shine of the waxy Red Delicious apples that stack in a pyramid under bright supermarket lights. Elephant tusk-like: thick, curved, and blunt. You wonder what it would feel like if he…
He appears before you in an instant, sitting at the edge of his desk, leaning over, and sandwiching you between his towering frame and the back of your chair. With an apparent smirk on his face, he enjoys watching you practically whimper underneath him, trembling in your seat. Irises expanding in size at exponential speeds is a clear tell, a giveaway of your need for him.
“You’re scared of me.” He points out with much effrontery while cocking his head, his face a mere few inches away from yours. He leans back with his arms crossed, planting himself firmly against his desk. “But you’re the one who summoned me, wanting to make a deal with me, right? So, no matter how scared you are of me, you’re still the boss and I’m your contract worker.”
“Contract worker?”
You can’t believe his words. He is agreeing to your stupid little request that you thought could never be fulfilled. Summoning a demon? Summoning the devil? It sounds like a quirky group activity to do at middle school sleepovers.
“You mean why did I agree to your request?”
You quickly nod your head in response.
“I’m a man with needs. And you’re a little angel who was brave enough to offer me a deal. It’s an obscene request that nobody of your kind has offered me for centuries - although, the last one perished with my touch…but you wouldn’t lie to me, right? Sweetheart?” He almost bats his long eyelashes with the pet name, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
The scene shifts almost theatrically – morphing from Jeonghan’s office to the tiny bedroom you were in about an hour ago. It seems real. All of it. The same putrid orange floorboards with dark knots that look like stains, hanging on the wall is a single bronze circular mirror your navy curtains slap against when the wind blows. You’re sitting in the middle of your bed, the old lumpy mattress you’ve been using since elementary school covered with the white checkered duvet set you found for free on some second-hand site. On the floor by the foot of the bed is a tiny space you made by pushing your jackets and plastic bags away, saved for summoning Jeonghan. Now, all that is left is soot, the Prince Noodles wrapper, and a now-stretched hand-made sweater.
Fucker. He is keeping the candle.
“It’s your first time so I can make you feel more comfortable – play on your turf. But the question is, can you take it? Can you take all of me? We can break it down into several sessions.” His suggestive tone is almost warmhearted. It almost makes you forget this is the first time you’ve met him. 
This situation would be laughable if it weren’t for the fact that you’re talking to the devil. You don’t know if he’s the type to laugh at bad jokes, but you weren’t going to test your hypothesis. 
“No,” you tell him. There’s only one thing on your mind. “One time.”
“You don’t realize what ‘all at once’ means, do you?”
Granted, if this were any other day with any other person, you would’ve faltered when this type of question kisses your ears. Doe-eyed, you watch him while sitting at the edge of your bed, a tiny nod in motion that makes him smile at you. The outer corners of his eyes crinkle, and he almost seems like a college boyfriend-esque type visiting your room for the first time - kind and patient, yet filled with corrupt thoughts.
He takes a seat next to you and proceeds to unbuckle the belt that cinches his waist. You’re too shy to stare at him while he undresses, but you can hear very clearly his garments hitting the floor one after another. The end of soft thuds and crinkles and a cool touch that turns your face to his, he holds your face in the palm of his right hand. So tender, yet his intentions are clearly laid out in the open.
“Why don’t you show me what pretty outfit you’re hiding underneath your sweater so I can show you what I mean?” his voice low, sending vibrations down to your core.
What you reveal underneath is a dainty two-piece. Thin lavender silk trim and clear organza with embroidered pastel flower details accentuate the cups that cover your breasts. The bottom matches the top, pulled high to your waistline. He hisses, forked tongue appearing for a split second before disappearing again.
“Contrary to what humans believe,” he mutters while holding one of your hands in his. “Angels don’t exist in this world. But at this moment…” He pushes a strand of hair away from your face, a subtle yet intimate gesture. He’s doing his best to prepare you for the worst without scaring you off, and you can’t help but to cling to him and seek refuge in his assuagement. “You’re the only Angel in front of me.”
Now you can see them more clearly. Dark brown eyes with bright specks of gold only a mere few inches away from yours. It makes you wonder how someone as beautiful as he can become the Devil. But he leaves no time for you to spare as he dips and plants his lips against yours. And you reciprocate with ardor, leaning back onto the bed as he changes his position so he is hovering, towering above you. His kisses are slow, focusing on making you feel good. Supple lips against your hot skin, he nips and licks at your flesh, leaving discolored hues of claret and magenta, him ravaging your untouched purity. And he takes the lead, grabbing your hands so they hug his neck so you can press him closer to you when you feel like it.
And you do. It excites you when learning how your body automatically reacts to him in need and lust: pulling him into your chest while feeling his soft skin rub against your lingerie, speeding up your kisses, and whining when you want more. He only smirks when he pulls away, looking at you from above and seeing your plump swollen lips and sexual frustration scintillating in your eyes. Your first hickeys on your neck and chest look like the beginnings of the first fallen leaves in the suburbs during Autumn. And you feel him grow against your core, a firm ball that waits to be unleashed with its owner’s command.
“Will my Angel be good for me?” He looks up at you while he traces the dainty straps that wrap around your skin, his pointer finger swirling around the yellow intricate embroidered flower that barely covers your nipple. The tip of the finger flicks against your rosy bud, and the feeling sends vibrations and shivers straight to your core. “Yes or no?”
“Yes,” you barely manage to whisper. “I’ll be good.”
“Then I’ll make you feel good.”
He bends down to kiss you again, this time with more fervor as if to mitigate any of your worries or concerns. But, strangely enough, you don’t. What is left behind in the trek to his office is replaced with new feelings of greed that you desperately want to have fulfilled during your nights alone. And the man who kisses down your body, pleasing you and praising you for reacting so well to his touch, seems multifarious enough to fulfill everything you dreamed about in secret.
When he reaches your core, it’s already uncomfortably wet. He seems to pay no mind as he pries away the lily embroidery that covers your cunt, cool finger briefly brushing against your skin to reveal your tender flesh that throbs underneath his gaze. Jeonghan starts slowly, prying your thighs apart with both of his hands. Firm grip on your skin, you whimper when he frowns at you for trying to shy away. Then you feel his lips planting pecks along your left inner thigh, making his way to your slick. 
If the way he kisses you is nothing but a lust-filled way of overcoming his workload, stress, and greed, then the way he eats you out is the complete opposite. Yoon Jeonghan doesn’t dive in head first after pushing you into the deep end; he holds your hand while guiding you into the pool, letting you adjust to the temperature of the water before swimming after him. Laps you up with the flat side of his tongue, long licks around your inner folds and swirls your core like a whirlwind, Jeonghan tsks when you start to close your thighs around his head without thinking. While telling you to behave, the low growl making you almost come on the spot, he pries your thighs apart. 
Firm grip and fingers digging into your skin, the Devil presses his tongue against the area you often frequented yourself at night, never thinking the day would come when someone else is able to visit. Forked tongue draws a heart down your slick, zigzags, paddles, and swims in your juices. It feels like two tongues are working you at once, and it makes you come twice as fast, your fingers gripping the bed sheets and your body jolting upwards. Supple lips close around where you feel the most sensitive, and he eats you out in a way that tells you that you would never be able to experience something like this in the future - not with him and definitely not with anybody else.
“Aah-ah fuck Jeonghan.” You squirm while he keeps his pace, wet sounds from beneath you filling your little room while he cleans up your aftermath. “Want more.”
“Aww my little Angel wants more?” He temporarily detaches his face from your cunt, red swollen lips glistening and glossed with your cum, to smirk at you. “Why don’t you look at me and beg for it?”
But he’s meticulous with continuously making you feel good. In the absence of his tongue, he replaces the emptiness with his fingers. Rubbing your nub in between his thumb and pointer finger, the Devil uses his other hand to rub himself - his hands prepping his long and pink organ. It takes a choked sob emitting from your mouth and your eyes rolling to the back of your head before you can even begin to think about looking him in the eye. And when you finally look him dead in the eye and trail to his raging member while letting out what he thinks are the prettiest and most deceivingly innocent whines, he finally understands your cupidity. 
So he thrusts his digits in your core, your panties now magically disappearing when he could’ve shrugged them off ages ago. Two long fingers fill your virgin hole, he scissors them while feeling your warm flesh contrast in reaction to his cold skin. Pointer fingers hook around your spongy G-spot, and he uses it as a sort of pulley, pulling him into you while your stomach tightens and squeezes with every quiver of his finger. You feel yourself soak his fingers, running down into his palms. He catches every drop with his tongue, licking his hands clean and then moving on to your cunt as he continues to finger you thoroughly.
He pulls his fingers apart, creating an opening to stick his tongue in you. Tonguing you, he savors your sweetness, sucking and thrusting his tongue deeper into you while he slides his fingers in and out of you. He fills you up until he runs out of room. You feel so corrupted, never expecting any person to make you feel so dirty, disgusting, yet so well-handled at the same time. You lust for more, to feel more as he smirks against your sex and reaches his open hand upwards to grab your breast. It feels plush and soft when he kneads it in between his fingers. Simply flicking his thumb over your sensitive nub sends shockwaves down to your core, and he surfaces with your cum dripping down his chin.
“How are you feeling?” he asks you, briefly leaning upwards to catch your lips in his mouth. “Can you take more? That was just to warm you up. Are you ready for me?” he mumbles against your lips.
The taste of yourself sits prominently in his mouth. You can taste yourself as you exchange another kiss with him, slowly winding down from your high.
“I- I want to try more.” You hear yourself openly admitting while he leaves tiny pecks along your collarbone. “It felt good.”
“Just good?” He looks up at you in feigned confusion. “Come on honey, I didn’t fuck you dumb just yet. I’m pretty sure you’re smart enough to come up with better adjectives. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t know how to describe it.” You gasp when he moves away from your cover to latch his lips around your nipple. “I cam- I think I came several times, but I’m still horny.” The last part comes out in a sort of whisper as if you’re afraid you would be caught by somebody if you ever admitted to being horny out loud.
“Mmm.” He groans with your tit in his mouth. “Mmf. Nothing wrong with being horny. And you did come. Several times…but are you ready to come more?”
“Yes.” You’re feeling more confident. “I’m ready for more.”
“Even if I have to tie you down?” He pushes himself up so he kneels in front of you. “I’m afraid your human body can’t take what I’m about to give you.”
“I want to try,” you reply. “‘All at once,’ remember?”
“Okay Angel.” He smiles, leaning over to put his hand behind your head to bring you upright. “All at once.”
Your face is so close to his body that you can smell the muskiness of his sex. Right in front of you is his member. It’s your first time seeing one this closely, red and stiff, and a tiny bead of precum that rolls off the tip. You wonder how it would feel in the palm of your hands, how you would be able to fit all of it in your mouth.
“Take a good look at it, Angel. Touch it or suck it if you want,” his voice is gentle yet mischievous. “Don’t be scared. I can guide you. Take your chances before I spend the rest of our time disappearing in your cunt.”
Hesitantly, you bring your lips closer to his tip, opening your mouth wide enough so your lips close around the head. It’s smooth like a cool cherry-flavored popsicle on a hot summer day, yet there’s a certain softness to the organ. You stare up at him with his head in your mouth, and he simply nods, thrusting forward a little to tell you that you can continue. 
A tiny lick causes him to flinch and then gasp, his eyes fluttering as you lick him again more confidently. He breathes out a groan when you place a hand on his waist while the other grabs his length. Closing your eyes, you hollow your cheeks and guide him in and out of your mouth, sucking and licking as you go. 
And the raging and tantalizing ache in him can’t help but to grow and extend along his erection, growing hot in his stomach as he looks down at you trying your best to suck his dick. It makes him feral knowing that he’s your first - the first to corrupt you, to coat your thick and swollen lips with your saliva and his precum, and to watch you as you clench your thighs while sucking him off. Just thinking about your request and actually seeing you try to fit him in your mouth without gagging intoxicates him and makes his mind fuzzy. But before he can begin to process his dick hitting the cold air, he feels your mouth latch around one of his testicles, gently sucking while your hand kneads the other, and your other hand continues to pump him in your mouth’s absence. 
This time, he sees you wide-eyed and staring right at him. And when your eyes roll to the back of your head, he immediately snaps and spasms - shooting white liquid all over the bed sheets. 
“Lay back down,” he demands. 
Repositioning himself over your naked body, he wipes away a few splatter marks on your face and reapplies it to your open lips. It’s hard to concentrate on the new salty taste when the Devil is staring intently into your eyes while his hands roam your body, touching and flicking. 
He asks you about punishments for making him come without warning - something about how he should prolong your virginity, a concept that you wanted him to take away. 
…it’s just a social construct used to belittle others, the contract states. But if anybody is going to take it away, then it has to be the Devil himself. 
“This might hurt a little,” he tells you. 
Invisible ropes drag your hands above your head and tie your thighs to your bed. Making sure you’re secure Jeonghan quips, “In case you try to run away.”
You can barely see what he’s doing from your angle. His dick is slowly becoming hard again, so you think he’s going to eat you out in the meantime. But nothing can prepare you for what comes next. 
It feels cold and warm, a long tubular shape slowly digging and nudging itself into your cunt. Yet, you don’t feel the same wetness you felt when he stuck his tongue in your cunt. The figure pulls in and out, sliding and squelching with every thrust. Your mouth drops open, letting tiny soundless exhales fall out of your mouth. A burning sensation builds up at the bottom of your stomach, causing you to lurch and struggle against your binds. Jeonghan only chuckles from underneath you, his face shrouded by his hair. It’s only when he pushes deep, causing you to yell his name when you realize the object he pushes into you. 
What fucks your cunt in a steady rhythm is the same crimson red, elephant-tusk-like horn that sits on top of Jeonghan’s head. He slightly turns his head so the thick and curved object hits you in the right spot, causing you to struggle, moan, and breathe heavily. 
“What a twisted angel,” Jeonghan grunts. “You didn’t think I would be able to read your thoughts? You didn’t think the Devil would be able to listen in on every single dirty thought that came across that pretty little head of yours?”
“Fuck. P-please Jeonghan,” you whine through gritted teeth. “Want your dick.” 
“No.” His tone is flat. “I’m not horny yet. Hearing you whine and mewl about how good I make you feel ”
“N-No,” you manage to say. “Can’t wh-whine if you’re choking me.”
Your invitation causes him to immediately pull out of you, therefore causing you to lurch forward with a gasp and fall back down when you’re stopped by your binds. It’s a lot clearer now, his wet red horn and the hair matted down by your juices. Still, there is nothing that could make the man in front of you become an eyesore. 
He’s objectifyingly beautiful - now not as downright terrifying as you thought him to be. Your little push of confidence, although a bit passive, goes a long way as he bends down once again to catch you between his lips, kissing you feverishly as his left hand slowly works its way to loop around your neck. 
It’s a new feeling, feeling the pressure of his palm against your neck. The pressure is light - not how Jeonghan would’ve liked to choke you, but enough so the concept doesn’t scare you away. Gently squeezing the sides of your esophagus, Jeonghan removes his lips from yours so he can see you clearly. Chin lifted up and your eyes glossed over, you seem to him to be needier than ever. He watches you as your struggle against his invisible binds, hips thrusting in the air. 
“Please Jeonghan.” You struggle against his hand. “Please. I’m ready. I’ve been ready. Please-”
“Beg.”
“Fuck,” you breathe out. “I’m begging. Please.”
He adds a little more pressure around your esophagus, making you struggle and almost come on the spot. “More.”
“W-want t-to see your pre- ah fuck pretty face lose its beauty when you bend over me while fucking me hard. I want you to be mean to me and pull my hair so my back arches while you pound into me from behind. Make my thighs quiver and tremble as my knees go red. Use me until I’m left with nothing but tears.”
“I can make you cry.” He lets go of your throat, tsk-ing at the fading soft pink imprint left behind on your skin. “But not in the way you described…You’ll be leaking from somewhere else, Angel.”
You breathe his words in like an airy aphrodisiac, filling your lungs and clouding your brain with blissful jubilation. But the tears. The tears fall when he slowly pushes into you, cooing and soothing you while you cling onto him, fingernails digging red welts into his bare back while you struggle to adjust to his size. The stinging pain feels like no other, but fuck does it feel good to have him inside you. 
Wrapping your legs around his waist, he bends over you and whispers in your ear, “Keep tightly clenching around me before I can properly fuck you and you’ll never be able to leave Hell. Understand?”
“Yes,” you reply, hissing when he pulls back.
Then he starts pushing slowly back into you, savoring how your walls etch and hug his ridges, savoring how your eyes immediately roll to the back of your head in response to your pleasure. Another thrust, faster this time. He plagues you with need, making you practically fuck him yourself by angling your legs on the bed so you can push yourself into him over and over again. He pinches your nipple in anger, but it only sends a lewd string of pain straight to your core. You find it pleasurable, your nerves heightened to a new level. 
So he puts his hands around your waist and tells you his name again - because that’s the only thing you’ll remember after he’s done with you. 
He ruts into you over and over again, harshly and quickly. The only sounds filling your tiny bedroom are your hiccups that complement the sound of his skin slapping against yours. Your whole body jerks and rocks with every thrust, your bed no longer standing in the same place, now slightly askew. He doesn’t even give you time to recover when you cum on his cock, your belly tightening, releasing, and then tightening again in a matter of a few seconds. 
“Whore,” he sneers. “Look at you, all fucked out underneath me. You can’t help but come multiple times, can you?”
He rubs your clit while pounding into you, watching you writhe in pleasure underneath him, very well unable to respond to his rhetorical question. 
“And you want me to pound into you from behind?” He mockingly laughs out loud. “All that talk but you can’t even form a word. Form a word then. Try forming a word before I cum.” 
But another wave swells in your abdomen, causing you to jerk forward in reaction. Your body feels sweaty and sore, but the pleasure rolls in waves - building in you and ejecting out of you like a consistent ebb and flow. Every single bite, flick, and word that comes out of him only breaks you even more. And you topple like a house of cards, reduced to nothing but his personal fucktoy. 
He chases his own orgasm when he feels like it, pushing into you deeply and thrusting one last time by hitting your walls so he can slowly milk his seed as he rolls his hips. And when he pulls out, he watches his liquid slowly collect at your entrance, threatening to spill out. Your body still twitches in his absence, your aftershocks squeezing and making his seed drip and run out of you. 
Your eyes are blurry, body is sore with tiny cartoonish stars floating and rotating above your head. You can’t expect the Devil to stay. He had done enough for you, more than you could ever imagine. It takes everything in you to bring yourself to whisper his name one last time before you feel him leave your side. 
On the floor where you summoned him is an invitation to summon him again:
Whenever you’re ready. He writes. I’ll make you crawl. -YJH, The Devil
1K notes · View notes
voxmortuus · 9 months
Note
Hi! Can I please make a request?
If yes: thank you!
Could you write Hannibal giving his male!reader a blowjob?
Thank you and I hope you have a good day!
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✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Hannibal x M!Reader ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Hannibal ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ See above ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 480 ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ PWP | Male Oral | Male Finish | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I hope this finds you well. Pretty basic request. Thank you for an easy porn without plot request was easy to bust out. Sorry it took so long had family over yesterday. Hope you enjoy ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist *̥˚✧
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Never sloppy, this man was a professional even in intimate moments. However, the only reason why he was on his knees in front of you and not the other way around was because he lost a bet. He wasn't a sports fan, and you knew that you took advantage of the situation, and now you were being rewarded. It wasn't every day he lost a bet either, but, that being said, you were immensely enjoying what you felt was a well-deserved reward.
As the hot shower water adds to the pleasure, you look down, watching as his lips form perfectly around you, savoring the flesh, making sure you are well tended to. The stroke of his hand, the bob of his head, the attention to the little details. How you could feel the tension and tautness of the lips to add that perfect amount of pressure around, tight but not too tight.
You hang your head back as you enjoy this moment. The subtle stroke of his hand as his mouth glides along your slick stiffened flesh. Of course, he knew what he was doing, and you were bearing witness to it now.
Looking back down you watch as his lips move along the side of your cock, the length from base to tip, his tongue curled around the underside of your shaft, the way he moved along the side and wrapped around back to the tip only to press your head between his lips again and press you to the back of his throat as he picks up the pace.
You hang your head back and let out a long draw out moan into the bathroom as it echoes in the shower bouncing off those glass walls. Your body tenses with this intense wave of heat. Feeling it wash over you it's like prickles to your flesh. You let out another moan. Your eyes close as you reach down and grip the back of his head as your hips buckle in a rhythmic motion.
The faster he moves the faster your hips move in a perfect tandem motion. The perfect about of give and take. With a faster bob comes a tighter pressure, comes a quicker build of your own pressure but you're unable to hold back any longer. Before you could even get a word in edgewise you're letting out a loud moan of pure satisfaction. Your voice echoes in his ears.
As your cock twitches with your finish, like the professional this man is, Hannibal takes the load, proceeds to stand up with your cock in hand, pulls you closer, and looks down at you as he stands a fair bit taller than you.
"Next time, you're the one on your knees…" He stated with a small smirk.
"Whatever you say." You state with a soft chuckle kind of out of breath and in a daydream-like state.
410 notes · View notes
ladamedusoif · 7 months
Text
For The Night: A Short Story About Reading and Riding
Special Agent Ortega x F!Sex Worker Reader
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Pairing: Special Agent Ortega x F!Sex Worker Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Rating: Explicit (18+; MDNI)
Summary: You might not be one of the “sweet young things” in the whorehouse any more, but a seemingly reluctant special agent helps remind you of your worth.
Content/Warnings: This is basically just smut; some slightly sweet fluff; but mostly smut; unprotected PiV sex; oral sex (M and F receiving); size kink; slight praise kink; sex worker reader; some period-appropriate terminology.
Notes: Look, we all got very excited when one of the Holy Grails of Early Pedrontent was revealed to us today. Some of us (me) were unable to stop thinking about Special Agent Ortega and his dusty, slightly skrunkly late nineteenth-century get-up. And now here I am writing what is essentially PWP for him.
This is very much a one-shot, stream of consciousness fic, so please bear that in mind (as with my Thief story I’m not entirely sure I didn’t dream some of this in a sleepy haze). There may well be errors and typos.
In this story Ortega is called Jerónimo, usually shortened to Jerón.
With love and thanks to @julesonrecord and @lunapascal for being enablers and sounding boards, especially to Lucy for suggesting Ortega’s name!
Divider by @saradika
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Nights like this, nights when you’ve got no custom, again, and the rent’s looking unlikely to be paid, you want to storm downstairs and slam down the lid on the saloon piano. It teases and taunts you, like the practiced giggles and moans from the other girls in the rooms along the hall and the bedraggled grunts of drunken men paying for their company. 
You read a little more of your book and try to distract yourself from the noise. Strictly speaking, whores aren’t meant to be bookish - but now and again a traveller might leave a volume behind him, and the other girls know to send them your way. Helps keep your mind busy, especially when other parts aren’t.
There’s a commotion on the stairs, and you can hear the madam’s voice as she guides another man - maybe two men? - towards the landing. You overhear the light, youthful laughter of Rosa, one of the house’s most popular girls, as she flatters and teases her client - clients, you assume - on the way to her room. 
You hear heavy footsteps stopping outside your door. One of the men, further away now, is teasing the other. “Have some goddamn fun, Ortega! We’re in a fuckin’ whorehouse, we’re not on the clock now!” Rosa giggles in response as the man continues, addressing the madam. “My fine woman, can you set my second gun up with a sweet young thing for the night? Seein’ as I’m already covered.” 
The door of Rosa’s room closes and the giggling gives way to silence.
The madam clears her throat. “We do have one girl who’s free, though unfortunately she’s, er, one of our more experienced ladies. I’m sorry, sir, I can see if one of the newer girls is finishing up soon…”
A second voice responds, and you realise it belongs to whoever is standing at your door. “Ma’am, it’s quite alright, I don’t need -“ but the madam interrupts him as she knocks on your door and pops her head in. 
She looks you up and down with evident disapproval and hisses at you. “Put that goddamned book away, girl. It’s your lucky night, you’ve got a customer. HURRY UP!”
You shove the book in a drawer and stand up, lightly plumping your hair with one hand and tugging down the front of your chemise to reveal a little more cleavage with the other. You might not be one of the “sweet young things” any more, so you need all the help you can get. 
The madam ushers him in and closes the door with a final warning stare in your direction. You try to put on a show, shifting your body into something approximating an alluring stance and looking up to meet his gaze. But there’s something in his eyes and his expression that surprises you enough to snap out of your little performance.
He’s young - mid thirties, maybe, not the inexperienced virgin boys you sometimes get in here but certainly not the old-before-their-time grizzled, abusive drunks you’re increasingly used to. And he’s…well. Handsome. Broad-shouldered, neatly-trimmed moustache, good figure, even in his slightly worn and dusty clothes. His low-slung gun belt draws the eye to narrow hips. 
But it’s the eyes that stop you in your tracks. Big, dark, and warm, they look you over with a quirk of his eyebrows as his mouth drops slightly open. As a whole package, he’s handsome; but the face? Lord, he’s pretty.
He stands very still for a couple of moments, looking you up and down, up and down. He moves from the doorway into the room, placing two glasses of liquor on your little nightstand and taking off his hat with a little bow in your direction, which seems endearingly out of place in its formality. He shucks off his jacket and leaves it on a chair.
“What’s your name, sir?” you ask, moving towards him. 
The eyes flick upwards to meet yours, a little smile dancing around his lips. “Jerónimo Ortega, miss,” and your heart does a little flip at his politeness, “but most people just call me Jerón.”
You repeat the name to yourself and sit on the bed, patting the space beside you. He sits down, but there’s a nervousness to him that even the rough, strong liquor can’t erase. 
“Y’know, Jerón, if you really don’t wanna fuck a woman like me that’s okay. We can just, I dunno. Just talk, or somethin’.”
He shakes his head and looks up at you with a grin. He looks even more boyish when he smiles like that. “It’s not that I don’t want to…do anything, it’s just…”
You reach for his hand, broad and tanned. “I get it. You probably wish you’d got to Rosa first, huh.”
His expression shifts to one of confusion. “No, I…shit. I… I just didn’t think you were going to be so pretty.”
Now it’s your turn to be confused. “Sir, you’re payin’ me. You don’t have to flatter me. Usually I’m the one flatterin’ the man.”
He does a little half-smile, revealing a deep-set dimple that makes you want to reach out and kiss it. He taps his silver agency badge. “You saying an agent of the law is a liar, miss? Because I’m no liar, and you are beautiful.”
You giggle, moving your hand to his firm thigh, starting to trail your fingers up to his crotch. Usually you’d be summoning your best acting abilities around now, to avoid running screaming from whatever sweaty old man was trying to get his dick up, but now? With him? Hell, this could almost feel real.
You lightly run your hand over the bulge that’s visibly straining at his pants, drawing a moan from him, and tug gently on the watch chain that runs across his waistcoat along his middle. You pull him in towards you, fingers entwined with the silver metal, and he reaches up to cup your face in his hands as he kisses you, deeply and hungrily. 
“If you wanna wash, there’s a basin over there behind that screen.” you murmur. “Might wanna get undressed, too.”
He nods and disappears behind the screen as you undo your stays and slip out of your skirt and chemise. You take down your hair and try to arrange it as artfully as you can as you lie back on the mattress, naked and hoping to God he likes what he sees.
Jerón emerges wearing only his shirt, unbuttoned to the waist. His hard cock is visible against the light cotton, and you can actually feel your nipples harden at the thoughts of having him inside you as wetness pools between your legs. 
“Jesus, fuck, you’re even more beautiful naked. Can I…”
You beckon him with a nod of your head and help him out of his shirt as he joins you on the bed. It’s all you can do not to moan when you see just how big he is, hard length thick and reddened and already leaking pre-come from the tip. 
“You ever had your dick sucked, Jerón?” You manoeuvre him down onto the bed, working your way down and between his legs. Hands resting on his thighs, you spread him open a little bit more. 
“N-no…fucked women but not that, not…not yet”. He’s already almost rutting the air with his hips.
“Pity, really, cos this is a gorgeous dick. Mind if I do the honours?” He nods frantically as you look up at him through your lashes and guide his cock into your wet mouth. He bucks upwards immediately, mewling with pleasure at the sensation. You hum with satisfaction as you suck him, sending the vibrations through his cock as he whines in response.
You take him out of your mouth for a moment, trailing your tongue up and down the underside of his cock. “Fuck, Jerón, you like this, huh? What do you want me to do, sweet boy?”
“W-wanna… want to fuck your mouth,” his breathing is ragged as he pants the words. “W-wanna fuck you.”
“Good, darlin’. So fuck my mouth and then you can have me as much as you want.” You brace yourself between his legs, a hand lightly stroking the base of his dick, and slide him back between your lips. Jerón cries out as he starts to fuck up and into your mouth, bringing a hand to the back of your head as he thrusts harder and faster. 
You take his hand and ease him out of your mouth. “You want to fuck me or you wanna finish there, darlin’?”
“Want…want you.” He’s close, you can tell, and you hope the little breather will give him a little more stamina for when he’s inside you. “Want your cunt.”
You move up his body and rest your heavy tits on his chest. He reaches out to grope them as you grind your hips against him, before rolling onto your back and easing him over on top of you.
 You look up at him and open your legs as he gazes down at you, running his hand up and down his wet cock. “Look at my pussy before you fuck it, sweet boy. See what you do to me. Tell me.”
Jerón looks at your cunt as if it’s a lost treasure, bringing his free hand to trail along your slit and feel the wetness that’s been gathering there since you laid eyes on him. “So wet for me. So swollen and wet and fucking warm, sweet girl.” He brings his fingers to his lips and groans at the taste of you before getting down and bringing his face between your legs.
“Is this…okay?” He flashes you a look of those big puppy dog eyes, that handsome face nestled between your plush thighs, and you can’t even find the words. You nod and rest your hand on the back of his head as he brings that pretty fucking mouth to your core. Some men really like this. Some men like this and are bad at it. Some men think this is only for “pansies” and other terms you would rather not think about.
Jerón Ortega is not particularly experienced in this, you suspect, but he’s a natural talent, sucking and flicking his tongue over your clit while using those soft, plump lips to form a tight seal around your wet cunt. You moan and writhe on the mattress as he slips his tongue in and out of you until you come hard on his face, the tip of his nose nudging against your clit as you climax.
He shifts his broad body upwards as you hitch up your legs and reach around to grab his ass and guide his cock inside you. Even after all these years and even with being wetter than you have in a very long time, it’s still a tight fit, his size filling you completely and making you sigh with satisfaction before he’s even moved.
He starts to fuck you quickly, chasing his own high. He leans back a little so he can see you underneath him, tits bouncing as he takes you hard and deep. Sometimes he brings his mouth to your nipples, laving his tongue around the firm peak and the soft skin of your breast, moaning as he does so. You wrap your arms around his broad back and hold on for dear life as he fucks you harder and better than you’ve been fucked in your life, one big hand grabbing your tit so hard you know it’ll leave a mark and the other trying to reach between your legs and rub your clit. 
“So fucking beautiful, you are,” he grunts into your ear, “so soft for me, so wet for me, such a tight, pretty pussy.” He looks into your eyes again, and you feel you might explode as those coffee-brown irises look into the very heart of you.
“Jerón…” You usually try to avoid moaning a client’s name, just as a rule of thumb. But this doesn’t feel like work, tonight, and he certainly doesn’t feel like a client.
“Let go, darling, let go, hermosa.”
And you do, with a deep wail you’re certain has been heard all over the whorehouse and in the saloon below and probably as far as the boundary of the town. And you don’t give a fuck who hears you, as you cry out his name while he fucks you through the aftershocks.
The throbbing of your cunt around his dick tips Jerón over the edge, and you feel him come, hard and deep, his warm body dripping sweat onto your tits below. He kisses you hard before he pulls out, then flops beside you on the bed. 
You look over at him as he tries to catch his breath. Normally at this stage, the client throws your small fee on the chest of drawers before washing again and dragging on his clothes before heading back to the bar. Normally, you can’t fuckin’ wait for them to go so you can wash their smell and scent and come off you.
Him? You don’t want him to leave. You want him to stay. Tonight. Tomorrow night. Forever.
Your post-orgasmic haze snaps as you jolt yourself back to reality. He’s a lawman, a handsome young professional, just passing through on a job. You’ve been a whore since you were a teenager, a long time in this game. You’ve watched girl after girl win over men who whisk them away to better lives, while you stay here in this shitty little room and wait for someone to pay for your body.
In a few minutes, Jerón Ortega will gather up his clothes, dress, leave the money, and disappear out of your life. Just a gorgeous memory for you to replay in your mind when you have some red-faced toothless rancher on top of you in a few nights’ time. 
His breathing is steadier now and he turns to face you. “That was…just marvellous, miss.”
You smile softly and stroke his cheek. “You don’t have to praise me, Jerón. You’re paying, remember.”
A kind of sadness flashes across his face. “Oh. Didn’t feel like a transaction to me, but what do I know, I guess.”
“Didn’t to me, either, but…”
He reaches over and pulls you close to him. “Is it against the rules for me to stay here with you tonight? I - hell, I don’t want to leave you.”
You shake your head. “Stayin’s fine, sweet boy. You sure about this? You don’t want to see if one of the other girls is free?”
He looks at you intently. “Don’t think there could be another girl for me, now.”
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heartfeltcierra · 1 year
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Donquixote Doflamingo X Female Reader NSFW "Daydreams of Dressrosa"
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Anon-I noticed you have a request box. I just wanted to say your writing is 🤌🏻 *chefs kiss*. I wanted to request something angsty and maybe even smutty with Doflamingo. I’ll let you decided if it end fluffy or not. I knows he is problematic and controversial as hell (I can fix him) But if you don’t write for him I completely understand! Thank you and have a amazing day my beloved heartfelt!
AN-So I totally took this and ran with it lmao. I just recently finished the Dressrosa Arc and I find Doflamingo to be a interesting character. This was a welcomed challenge for me. I've never written for a villian before and It's been a hot take since I've written smut. With that being said it's also the dirtiest thing I've ever written. I ran laps around my house just writing this. But thank you for reading my work and I hope you enjoy this my beloved anon :)
Masterlist
Side note- As always this story is plus sized reader friendly!
Word Count- 7.5k
*Any thing in italics is readers thoughts or a flashback. *
!Trigger warning! The relationship between Reader and Doflamingo is extremely toxic with emotionally abusive undertones, please never let anyone treat you like this.
~NSFW Warnings/Content~ Dom Doffy/Sub reader, PWP, Pre established situationship, A tiny speck of pet play, Doffy misuses his devil fruit powers (Spoiler alert he makes a clone.) Humiliation, Name calling (Slut, whore etc) , Reader is slapped once, Spanking, Degradation, Oral Sex (Fem giving and receiving) Fingering, Implied squirting and use of reward system. I tried to stay true to Doflamingo's character, but he may be OOC in some parts!
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   From the moment you woke up to a quiet and peaceful palace, you immediately knew something was up. You asked one of the guards where everyone was and much to your surprise Doflamingo and the top executives have gone out to a meeting. And according to him,  they won’t be back until dark. It’s very rare for all of them to be gone at the same time, but you're thankful. It’s been a long time since you've had any alone time, so you were going to make every moment count. 
  You’re currently in the courtyard pool floating around on the huge blow up flamingo Doffy bought a while back. No one ever uses it considering most of the family have devil fruit abilities and aren’t willing to risk falling into the water. So you’ve laid claim to the giant pink float. You’ve even given it the nickname “Mini Master.” 
 “Now let’s get down to the real fun.” You smirk before pulling out a book from your favorite romance series called “Daydreams of Dressrosa: a collection of love stories from the kingdom of passion”. You read them in secrecy. The only other person who knows is Baby 5, her being the one who sneaks them to you. You knew if Doffy found out about them, he’d probably be pissed, saying something to the extent of “What can a book offer you that I can’t?” And the answer to that was simple. Romance and love. The two things he would never be able to offer you. It’s sad, but nonetheless true. 
 You open the book and turn to where you left off on story #17 titled “Carnivals and Carnations”. The couple in the story are going to a carnival as a first date. The story was super cheesy, but you're living for it. You squeal when the guy puts his jacket around the girl's shoulders because she is cold. It’s funny how something so simple causes your heart to swoon.  But your favorite part so far was him winning her a stuffed bear from one of the game stalls. You can’t help but think of Doffy doing something like that for you, no doubt you’d walk away with every stuffed animal and trinket you wanted. But how Doffy would win them is the part you find funny. He’d probably use his devil fruit ability to ‘Win’ (Cheat)  or he’d scare the person running the stall until they gave up everything. It brought a bittersweet smile to your face. The poor hopeless romantic in you still hasn’t accepted her fate. Once you got stringed in with Doflamingo, any chance of you experiencing sweet and innocent love was thrown to the wind. 
 You can’t help but be jealous of the girl in the story. When you were a teenager you dreamed about finding a man who would love you and treat you like a princess. Now here you are as an adult and plaything to a criminal. You knew he was bad, you knew he had done horrible things. But something about him lured you in. Tears trickle down your face and onto the pages below. You yearn for the impossible from him. But it’s Doffy, and he will do whatever he wants, when he wants and without even thinking about anyone else. You know this better than anyone. 
 ~Flashback~
 “Doffy, can I ask you a question?” You pulled your sore and sweaty body from the bed. Doflamingo was in the middle of putting his shirt back on,but stopped when he heard your hoarse voice call out.
 “Well would you look at that.” Doffy seemed to be amused, smirking at your trembling form. “My little girl didn’t pass out after all. I was almost certain you would, considering how hard I was on you.” You were on the brink of passing out from his rough treatment, but you clung to consciousness. “For that I’ll answer your question. Go on.” 
 “Well I guess it may be more of a favor, but.” Your mind and heart raced even more than it did earlier. All because of what you're about to ask him. “Do you want to shower with me and maybe we can cuddle together for a while after? I know you're busy and I won’t take up much of your time, just a few minutes I promise!” You watched Doffy’s smirk disappear, replaced by one of  his more disapproving looks, causing your heart to drop.
 “You want me to shower with you and stick around for “cuddles”?” You muster the strength to  nod at the man. His lips curled into a wicked smile before he laughed in your face.  “What a joke. Do you think I have time for something so stupid? Never ask for something like that again. Got it?” You couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down your face at his cruel words. His large hand reached out and grabbed your face, giving you no choice but to look at him. “Speak girl.”
 “Yes. I- I’m sorry Doffy.” Your cringe at how your words struggled to come out through the small sobs. Times like that reminded you how cruel Doflamingo was. Your heart shattered into a million pieces. 
 “Good.” He released your face and without another word, walked out of the room as if nothing happened. To him it probably was nothing. Your body fell against the bed as a few remaining tears slid down your face. Your hands snaked around one of the spare pillows on the bed, in search of the comfort you so desperately needed that night.
~Flashback end~
 It had been weeks since that night and not once has Doffy come to your room for a “session”. The more you think about it, the more uneasy you become. It’s unlike him to go that long without sex. Maybe he’s getting bored with you or maybe he’s getting it from someone else. Both of those thoughts stung. At the end of the day, you're just another woman at his disposal.
 You look into the sky and see the colors changing with the sunset. You didn’t have much time left before the family would return. A small sigh leaves your lips as you open your book again. Now where was I? The couple were now riding on a ferris wheel.  The man wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders, causing her to scooch closer to him. The ferris wheel came to a halt, leaving them at the very top. They admired all the lights and the way the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Their eyes locked onto each other. You can’t help but giggle knowing what’s about to happen. The man gently cupped her cheek as he slowly moved his lips towards her. Her eyes closed as his lips barely ghosted over hers. A small tug on the float causes you to close your book. Before you had a chance to investigate the cause, the float was pulled out from under you. Your body tumbles into the cold water alongside your book.
 “Fufufu~.” You hear Doffy’s muffled laugh as you swim back up to the surface. You cough up a little water you inhaled as Doffy continued to laugh. Judging from the way his fingers were bent, he was the one who knocked the float over. “Did the mouse have fun while the cat was away?” Your eyes roll at his snarky comment. You want to splash water on the cocky warlord, but you also want to live long enough to finish your book. Wait, the book! You frantically swim around the pool until you notice it sitting at the bottom of the pool. You take a deep breath in before diving to get it. You emerge once again holding the soaked book.
 “Well the “mouse” was having a fine day, until you destroyed its book.” You hold the book up and watch as the pool water drips from the pages. “And I was getting to the good part too.” You mumble the last part. 
 “Good part?” A wild smirk forms on Doffy’s face. With a flick of his left index finger the book was snatched from your hands and right into his. “What page was this “good part on”?” You watch as he skims through the book. 
 “112.” You swim over the edge of the pool and watch him read the page. For a man like Doflamingo, the scene will be underwhelming and quite boring. For a moment you think he was getting interested in the words, but it was short lived.  With a wet smack he closes the book and tosses it to the ground. You frown knowing the book will be unreadable by time the water sets in and blurs the words. I guess I’ll never know how it ends….
 “So that’s your definition of a good part?” You gave the man who was now towering over you a small nod. “When did my little slut become so vanilla?” Heat rises to your cheeks despite the cold temperature of the water around you.
 “I just thought it was cute. That’s all.” You let your body sink into the water in an attempt to avoid his gaze but your body stills. 
 “Trying to run away are we? Do I need to put you in your place Y/N?” You feel his strings loop underneath your arms. His left and right index fingers lift up causing your body to come out of the water in one motion. A shocked gasp leaves your lips as you fly out of the pool water and into the cold evening air. You sometimes forget that no matter how big you are, Doffy can and will treat you like a rag doll. You land rather ungracefully in front of the Blonde. Goosebumps rise onto your wet skin, but you're unsure if it’s from the cold air on your wet body or from the aura radiating off the man above you. 
 You peer into Doffy’s sunglasses and see your shivering body looking back. Your arms cross in front of your body in a sad attempt to warm up. You expect to see a sadistic smirk on his face, but you're met with an expression you’ve never seen on him. It makes you a little anxious not knowing what he’s thinking about or feeling. It dawns on you that he knows you read romance novels now, meaning he was most likely not very happy with you at the moment. 
 “I’m sorry If I upset you, Doffy. I promise I won’t read books like that anymore.” You try to diffuse the situation but it’s too late. His hand raises into the air. A sense of fear washes over you, causing your body to tremble even more. You feel a rush of wind in front of your face causing your eyes to slam shut. You tensed up preparing for the impact.. But it never came, instead the smell of his expensive cologne invades your nostrils as warmth engulfs your body. You let your eyes flutter open to see that he placed his pink feather jacket around your frame. It takes a while for your brain to process it. The cold, unloving and emotionally unavailable Donquixote         Doflamingo did something…. nice?   
 “Thank you young master.” He never lets anyone wear his jacket, NEVER. You wrap the jacket around your body more to enjoy its warmth. 
 “I was getting annoyed watching you shake like a pathetic little leaf.” He retorted with a scowl. “Now. Why don't I show you what a 'good part’ is supposed to be like.”  He points a finger at your neck, causing a string to connect to your flesh like a leash. He gives the string a firm tug, sending you to the ground on your knees in front of him. “Spread.” His commanding voice sends excitement through your veins.
 “Yes sir.” You move your knees apart as far as you can. The course ground below dug into your knees, but you didn’t care. As bad as you hate to admit to yourself, you’ve missed this and you’ve missed him. 
 “Good, now look at me.” You crane your head back in order to look up at him. Your body feels like it is shrinking as the10 ft tall man looms over you. Your mind goes blank when you feel the pointed tip of his shoe moving up and down your swimsuit covered pussy. “I’m going to cut you a deal so listen up.” His shoe puts extra pressure on your clit, causing a moan to escape your lips. “If you can be a good girl and do everything I say without question, I will give you a reward.” His foot retracts much to your dismay. But the mention of a reward entices you.
 “I will, I promise sir!” And just like that, you submit yourself to him. 
 “You will or else.” Doffy began to walk away leaving you to crawl behind him. You're thankful the steps he took were a lot smaller than normal, otherwise you’d have a hard time keeping up. It dawned on you how embarrassing the situation was. Here you are crawling around on all fours with Doffy’s jacket on. I probably look like a poodle. 
  You got lucky and didn’t run into any family members while Doffy paraded you around like the loyal lap dog you are. A couple of guards saw you, but they didn’t dare to say a word knowing Doflamingo would kill them on the spot. The door to your room was finally on site, but he walked past it. Your bedroom is the only place he agreed to do the deed in. It gave him the freedom to come and go as he pleased. You know better than to question him, but you're still curious as to where he’s taking you.
 “You’ll find out soon enough.” Doffy answers as if he read your mind. Much to your surprise you find yourself in front of the door to his room. In the time you’ve been with him, not once have you seen the inside of his bedroom. “Stand up.” The string on your neck beckons you to your feet. You wince as you stand up, knees throbbing due to all the crawling you’ve done.
 Doffy slings the door open and leads you in. The door clicks shut and the sound of the lock being turned echoes in the bedroom. His room was so big it made yours look like a mere closet. Your eyes land on the double king bed in the middle of the room. As you look at it, the only word that comes to mind is sin.  A blood red canopy surrounded the dark oak frame. The mattress itself was covered with a plush black duvet and luxury pillows. It was most definitely fit for a fallen angel like Doflamingo. 
 The string around your neck comes loose, leaving a ring of irritated skin in its absence. Doflamingo walks over to a red armchair that sat adjacent from his bed. He sat down and spread his long legs, giving you a perfect view of the hardening erection in his pants. With a devilish smile on his face, he beckons you over with a motion of his finger. Your body tingles with nervousness as you get closer and closer to him. You were only a few feet away from him when his hand came into the air, letting you know to stop. The same hand pointed a finger in the air and swirled in a circle. You nod and turn around to face the bed. A rush of air sends shivers down your body as the pink feather jacket was taken from your body, leaving you in your damp swimsuit. You turn your head and watch as the jacket drapes around the armchair Doffy sat in. 
 “Did I give you permission to turn around Y/N?” You whip your head back around to face the bed, causing Doffy to chuckle at your speed.
 “No sir, I’m sorry.” You hope your action didn’t piss him off enough to take your reward. 
 “I didn’t give you permission to speak either little whore.” Your body trembles at his condescending tone. “You're very lucky I’m in a good mood, otherwise you could have kissed that reward goodbye.” A wave of relief washes over you knowing it was still on the table. “Now strip and do not turn around for any reason.”  
 Your hands come up to the straps of your bathing suit. Slowly you pull them down your arms until your breasts popped out of the top. Your wet nipples harden immediately when they hit the cool air. Your hands come to your back to untie the knot, you struggle for a moment before it comes loose. With a wet ‘plop’ the garment hits the floor. You could feel your heart racing in your chest. You wanted this, you needed this. You take a shaky breath in and slide your hands down your curves until you reach the band of your swim bottoms. You curl your fingers around the fabric and bring it down until they fall around your ankles. You step out of the bottoms and kick them next to your top. You're now completely exposed to the heavenly demon.
 “Good girl.” Your body heats up at his praise. “Now bend over the bed.” You take a few steps forward and let your upper body fall onto the bed. You scooch back a little and spread your legs apart. “Spread yourself more.” You know exactly what he’s wanting you to do, and you're going to deliver. You slide your hands down your body until they reach the globes of your ass. Your fingers pull them apart, exposing your wet pussy even more. You wiggle your hips from side to side, showing him how needy you are for him.
 “What a dirty little girl, what will I ever do with you?” Your body tenses up when you feel something attach to your clit. A string? “Now I’m sure you're wondering why we came here instead of your room.” A moan leaves your throat when you feel the string moving your clit in small circles. You were so sensitive from being celibate for weeks, it took no time for your orgasm to start building. You hear Doflamingo let out an amused hum. “I can tell by the way your legs are shaking you're about to cum.” You have to hold back a scream as the string picks up the pace even more. 
 You dig your nails into the flesh of your ass in an attempt to ground yourself, but you are too far gone. Your hips start desperately swirling with the strings movement. Fuck it feel so good. But right before you could get your release the string retacts. Your head falls flat on the bed as tears of frustration form in your eyes due to the loss of your high. 
 “Can’t have that now, can we?” You don’t have to see Doffy’s face to know he’s wearing a shit eating grin. You should have known better than to think he’d let you cum this early. You hear him get up from the armchair. His loud footsteps reverberate in the room. You feel the bed dip as he hoovers above you. “Now as I was saying, the reason I brought you here is quite simple. Your bed is a little bit too small.” You feel his hot breath next to your right ear as he speaks. You wonder what changed? The size of your bed has never stopped him before. You tense up when you feel the bed dip on the other side of your body. Is there someone else here? “Too small for the both of us that is.” Your heart stops when you hear Doffy’s voice fill your left ear. It made no sense, how can he be on both sides of you at once? You try to lift yourself up, but a large hand keeps your face shoved into the mattress. 
 “Do you understand what’s happening now?” His voice fills your right ear again. You feel one of his hands wrap around your hair, pulling it back to leave your neck exposed. “I’ll give you a little hint.” Now it was back in your left ear. You feel hot breath on both sides of your neck before tongues lick up the sides in perfect unison. Rough hands grab your sides and with one quick motion your body was turned so your back was now on the mattress. 
 Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you see what’s above you. Your eyes land on not one, but two very shirtless Donquixote Doflamingo’s. They both wore the same lust filled expression. 
 “Two Doffy’s? How?” You mutter out in shock. Your nerves are on edge, one Doffy was enough to fuck you into a week long coma. But two of them? That would surely send you to an early grave. As Lao G would say “You’re a goner with a capital G!”   
 “While you were busy getting off on my string, I made a clone of myself.” The Doflamingo on your right spoke, meaning he must be the real one. “It talks like me, it can even use strings like me, but most importantly” Doffy pulls you up from the bed until your face is inches from his. “ It can fuck like me.” His tongue licks a wet stripe up your face. “But a slut like you should be able to handle us, right?.” You hesitate for a second, but nod your head in agreement.
 “Now let’s have a little fun.” Doffy’s clone spoke up, licking its lips. 
 “Sounds good. Hold the little slut up for me.” The clone nods and moves on the bed until it is behind you. Its strong arms hook under your thighs and brings you up until your back rests on its abs. 
 “It's almost pathetic how wet you are.” The real Doffy stole your breath by rubbing his fingers up and down your exposed slit. Your head slams back on the clone's hard chest when Doffy shoves two fingers deep into your cunt. The long digits rubbed along the top of your walls, paying attention to your sweet spots.  
 “Of course I’m wet. Don’t you remember making me fall into the pool sir?” You smile at Doffy innocently, but your bratty tone was anything but that. 
 “Is that it?” The dark tone in Doffy’s voice made you regret it instantly. And then you see the vein in his forehead pop out, you know you're in for it now. 
 “What a dumb whore you are.” The clone spoke before biting the side of your neck harshly, causing you to cry out in pain. “You are so fucked.”
 “Tell me you foolish girl, does this taste like pool water to you?” Doffy pulls his fingers from your dripping hole and shoves them in your mouth. You could taste your arousal as he shoves his fingers even further down your throat.
 “Aren’t you going to answer him?” The clone taunted before licking the bite wound it left. “I guess it’s hard to, considering your mouth is so full huh?” Your vision blurs with tears as you gag around Doffy’s fingers.
 “I’m going to take my fingers out. I suggest you apologize and beg for my forgiveness.” The fingers slowly begin to slide out. “Afterall, you want that reward, don’t you?” His fingers leave with a trail of your saliva. Coughs erupt from your throat as you catch your breath. Your mind has been so clouded over you forgot about the promised reward. 
 “I am very sorry sir. Please forgive me!” Your voice rasps out. 
 “That's all you got? What a lackluster performance.” Doffy grabs your cheeks and smooshes them together. “I’ll give you one last chance. Use it well, my patience with you is running very thin at the moment.” His hand releases your cheeks. 
 “Sir, please forgive me for being such a dumb brat. I’ll be a good and obedient cocksleeve the rest of the night for the both of you! So please use me until I deserve your forgiveness.” Tears are flowing down your face as you desperately beg him. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t take my reward from me..” You're unsure why you want the reward so desperately when you don’t even know what it is. 
 “That’s more like it. But I still think you need to learn your lesson.” Doffy's hand reared back before smacking you across the face. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to make it sting. “Now are you ready to be a good girl?” 
 “Yes sir.” You feel a few more tears fall down your face. Doffy’s hand reaches back out. You prepare yourself for another smack, but instead he wipes the tears away with his hand. 
 “Good.” You watch Doflamingo unzip his pants, freeing his hard cock. “Drop her.” The clone releases you so you fall, landing all fours. You feel the bed move underneath you as Doffy leans his body against the headboard. “Come over here and put that stupid mouth of yours to good use.” 
 You waste no time crawling in between his legs. You stick your ass up in the air and start licking him up and down. His cock twitches under your tongue as you lick the sensitive spot under his tip. You hear him grunt meaning he wants more. You give one last lick before wrapping your lips around him. His huge size stretches your mouth until it's borderline unbearable. One of his large hands thread through your hair before he slams into you. You do your best not to gag around him as he sets a rough pace. 
 “Her pussy is so wet, like it's crying for our attention.” The clone lands a harsh smack on your ass, causing you to yelp around Doffy’s dick. “See.” You feel its fingers run up and down your pussy before bringing its hand to show Doflamingo your glistening arousal. You feel a hard twitch in your mouth as Doffy grunts. He’s getting close. 
 “I’m going to cum and I expect you to swallow every last drop.” With a few more rough thrusts he fills your mouth full of his thick cum. You swallow every bit of it and stick your tongue out to prove it.
 “Where are your manners?” The clone grabs your hair and yanks your head back. “What do you say when your master gives you his cum?” The clone releases your hair so you can look back at Doffy. 
 “Thank you master.” You smile at him through lidded eyes. He let out a satisfied hum in response.  Although you're not able to see his eyes thanks to his sunglasses, you're certain they would have a glint of satisfaction in them.
 “Get her prepared for me. She’s going to need it.” The clone got to work right away by flipping you onto your back. It hooked your legs over its shoulders before licking a long stripe up your slit. 
 “A-AH~” Your hips arch off the bed as the clone starts to eat you out. Its tongue would swirl around your clit before diving deep into your cunt. You could feel pressure building in your lower abdomen already. “ F-fuck it feels so… good~ Your tongue is the best!” You feel the Clone smirk against you.
 “The best huh? So even better than the real one?” The clone gives your clit a harsh suck before looking up at you. “I’m flattered.” It landed a playful smack on your thigh before continuing its assault on your swollen clit. You throw your head back and notice the furious look Doflamingo was giving his clone.
 “Doffy wait I didn’t mean it like tha-” You cut yourself off as a wanton moan escapes your lips. The clone's tongue started stroking that spot deep within you that had your toes curling. “Right there please~ I’m gonna cum~”
 “I’ve had enough of this.” You feel Doffy’s body move from behind you. You whine when the Clones tongue leaves you right as you are about to peak. You bring your head up to see Doflamingo had joined his clone in between your legs. They were both gripping one of your thighs while giving each other a dangerous glare. Was he getting jealous…. of his own clone?
 “Well I haven’t, so back off.” The clone had no plans of backing down as it gripped your thigh tighter. 
 “Do you actually believe you're better than me? Have you forgotten that you're a damn clone?” Doffy clenches his teeth and grabs the clone around the neck. “I can make you go away with a snap of my fingers.” You hold in a laugh as you watch the two bickering. 
 “Well how about we settle this?” You watch as the clone pulls Doffy’s hand off. “Let’s see who can make her cum first.” An evil grin etches itself on Doflamingo’s face at his Clones proposal. 
 “Fine by me.” Doffy agrees as they both turn to look at you. You felt like conquerors' haki was being used on you the way your body froze to the bed. 
 They both start leaving kisses and bite marks down your legs. Slowly but surely they inched closer to the place you wanted them the most. Finally you feel their hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. 
 “Doffy.” You call out to the man himself, gaining his attention. “Please make me cum, only you can~” He smirks at you before his expert tongue starts lapping at your folds. It's very rare that Doffy eats you out, but when he does you're always left speechless. You wish you could thank the clone for pressing his buttons.
 “Don’t forget about me.” You feel the clone's tongue join Doffy’s. The two tongues fight for dominance as they lick every inch of your needy pussy. Your body vibrates from the sheer ecstasy you're experiencing. 
 One of Doffy’s hands snakes up your body to wrap firmly around your neck. You had no trouble figuring out which tongue was the real Doffy’s. Everytime he flicks your clit, he squeezes your neck as if to remind you who your pussy belongs to. 
 “I’m gonna cum~” Your hand grabs onto Doffy’s blonde hair as your body twitches.
"Your not needed anymore." Doflamingo pulls the clone away you before shoving two fingers deep into you. Your legs begin to shake as he syncs the pace of his fingers and tongue together. The perfect harmony of pleasure was driving you even closer to the edge.
 “That’s not fair.” The clone attempts to reclaim his spot between your legs, but was quickly shut down.
 “Have we ever been known to be fair?” With a snap of Doffy's fingers, the sound of string unwinding mixes with your moans. The clone had a scowl on its face before it disappeared. His fingers pick up the pace causing you to grip his hair tighter. “Be a good little girl and cum for me.”
 “Fuck~” Your body quivers as your overdue orgasm crashes over you. Doffy’s tongue detaches from your clit, but his fingers begin to rock up and down harder. You try to fight the urge to let go, knowing what would happen if you do. “Stop Doffy, I’m going to make a mess!”  Your warning came too late as your second orgasm washes over you, causing clear liquid to gush out of you. 
 “I win. Now to claim my prize.” Doffy places his fingers in his mouth and sucks your juices off them. It's hard to lose when you get rid of your competition. “Get on your hands and knees, now.” 
 You miraculously get yourself into the position he wants. Your hands shake trying to hold your worn out body up. Stay focused Y/N, don’t pass out. You hear the familiar sound of a condom being opened as the bed dips. One of his hands ghost up your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its path. The same hand wraps tightly around your hair as he bottoms out in one motion. He stays pressed up against your cervix for a few minutes, letting your walls stretch and relax around him. You move up and down his length, letting him know your ready.
 The pace he sets is rapid and ruthless. His cock effortlessly hits all of your sweet spots with every thrust. The blinding pleasure was starting to build up all over again. Your hands shook violently on the bed, you know they are going to give out any moment now. 
 “Are you struggling?” Doflamingo deep voice whispers in your ear. “Want your master to help you?” You weakly nod your head. Doffy’s free arm hooked under you, bringing you off the bed until your back was flush against his chest. He bottoms out again and continues his relentless thrusts. The new position gave him full control over your body, leaving you completely at his mercy. 
 The hand that was in your hair moved down until it stopped at one of your neglected nipples. He rolls the bud between his thumb and index finger before pinching it hard. You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. He then moves to the other nipple and gives it the same treatment. 
 “It feels so good.~” Your hand goes down to play with your clit but Doffy stops you.
 “Not so fast little girl.” He switches the position to where he is laying on the bed with you on top. “You're being so selfish, making me do all of the work.” His thumb starts circling your clit causing you grind down on him. “As a matter of fact you’ve not only selfish. You’ve been disobedient, bratty and you even went as far to say that stupids clone tongue was better than mine. You don’t deserve that reward, not even in the slightest.” His cold tone causes you to halt your movements. Something about it struck a chord deep within you. 
 “I’m sorry Doffy.” It hurt knowing he was so disappointed in you. You feel your mood declining. All the dopamine and adrenaline that coursed through your body had finally run out, leaving you emotionally vulnerable.  
 “I’m not finished talking yet, so stop crying and listen.” You were unaware of your tears until he mentioned it. You watch as his hand comes up to his sunglasses. He inhales a deep breath and pulls the glasses off. You bring your hands up to cover your eyes. No one has ever seen his eyes, not even Trebol has. “Look at me Y/N.” Slowly, you drop your hands. Your eyes connect with his. His right eye was ruby red, while his left eye was white and foggy. 
 “Doffy.....Your eyes are beautiful. But why? Why did you show me?” You look at him in awe. 
 “I can’t even answer that myself.” He sighs and runs a hand through his blonde locks. “It doesn't matter anyways. You still want that reward?” 
 “Yes, I do.” You were starting to think him showing you his eyes was the reward. 
 “Make me cum and it’s yours.” He crosses his arms behind his back. Out of everything you and him have done tonight, this was by far the most intimate.
 You slowly start going up and down his length. Every fiber in your body was screaming at you to stop, but the desire to please the man below you was louder. The lewd sounds of your body's connecting fill the room once more. You pick up the pace as you chase your high. Doffy’s hands reach out and grab onto your plush hips. His grip was getting tighter and tighter, causing your hips to roll and grind on him.
 “Fuck.” Doffy curses. One of his hands leaves your hip and moves to wrap around your neck. “Tell me, who does this pussy belong to?” 
 “My master.” You cry out as the grip around your neck tightness.
 “And who is your fucking master.” He brings your head down so your eyes meet his. 
 “You!” Tears of pleasure rolled down your face. “Donquixote Doflamingo!” You cling onto consciousness as you meet your final orgasm. Doffy follows you as he slams against your cervix. You stay still until his cock softens inside you. Slowly you lift yourself off him. Your body collapses on top of him the moment he is fully out of you. You know he is not a fan of skin to skin contact after sex, but you were too weak to hold yourself up.
 “Doffy.” You muster enough energy to lift your head. “Did I do a good job? Are you going to give me the reward?” Your vision was starting  to go in and out. 
 “Yes, I suppose you did.” A weak smile forms on your lips at his words. 
 “Good.” Your head falls back down on his chest. ”That makes me so happy.” Your eyes close and despite your efforts no to, you black completely out.
~While you were knocked out~
 “How amusing.” Doflamingo snickers at your worn out body splayed on his. “You put all that effort in for a silly reward, just to pass out before you're able to indulge in it.” He lifts your body off of his and lays you gently on the bed. He puts his sunglasses back on and calls a maid in.
 “How can I help you young master?” The maid was blushing ear to ear seeing the state you and him were in.
 “Go get something for Y/N to sleep in from her room and change the sheets. I do apologize, it’s my fault they got a little wet.” The maid's cheeks got even darker at his declaration. Doflamingo picks your limp body from the bed and makes his way over to the bathroom. “And if you tell anyone about this, I will cut your head off and send it to your family. You may go now.” 
 “Yes young master.” Her voice wavers with fear. With a bow she leaves the room.
 Doffy turns his shower on, letting steam fill the room. He sat you down on the shower bench so he could clean himself. After giving his body a good scrub down, he picks your body up and places you under the warm water. He leans your body against his and begins to massage shampoo into your hair. After rinsing the suds out of your hair, he poured shower gel into a washcloth and started to lather it into your skin.
 “You're missing out young lady. I’m even using my expensive soap on you~” No response. Doffy rolls his eyes and continues to rinse your body off. He turns the shower off after he deems you squeaky clean. He sat you back down on the bench so he could dry himself off. He threw on a pair of silky pink boxers and then got to work drying you off. 
 He picks you up and takes you back into the bedroom. The maid had laid your clothes out on the freshly made bed. Doffy grabs the night gown and places it over your body. He never in a million years would have thought about pampering a woman like this. But yet here he is.
 “I normally only take these off of a woman, but I guess I’ll make an exception just this once.” He grabs your panties and rolls them up your legs. He admires the small pink flamingo that decorates them. “I’ll have to buy you more of these.”
 He pulls the duvet down and places you under it. After turning the lamp off he joined you in the bed.
 “Baby 5……” You mumble in your unconscious state. “If you go out, get me the latest copy of “Daydreams of Dressrosa”. And don’t let Doffy find out.” 
 “I’m not Baby 5 and I already know you read those silly books you insufferable woman.” Doffy whispers in your ear and as he expected you don’t respond. 
 Doflamingo has never been one to fall asleep easily, normally he reads a book or ponders his next heinous act. But tonight he finds himself watching your sleeping form. The moonlight that peeks through the curtains casts an ethereal glow on your face. “Do you want to shower with me and maybe we can cuddle together for a while after?” He recalls your request from that night. You have technically already showered together, even though you weren't awake for any of it. Which was of course your (Doffy’s) fault. Now it was time to fulfill the last part of your request.  His arm hooks around your midsection and pulls you so your head rests on his chest.
 His arm wraps around your back keeping you snug against him. He’d never openly admit it to you, but he was enjoying this. From the way you snuggled closer to him, to the way your body molds perfectly with his. Like you were made for him. Because you were made for him. He has never been one to keep the same woman around for long. He viewed women how children viewed toys. They are fun for a little while, until something more fun comes along. But not you. You're different from the others who threw themselves at him. He of course finds you very attractive, but there was something else that allured him more. 
  You are truly like his loyal lap dog. No matter how much he neglects you and no matter how many times he metaphorically “kicks you”, the moment he sticks his hand out you come running to him with that dopey smile plastered on your face. You're so hopelessly devoted to him and he loves it. You can’t live without him, he knows that. But a small part of him feels the same way towards you.
 “I think I’ll keep you around. For now at least.” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 Your body stirs awake when you feel something tickling your ear. You search for the cause only to hear light snores coming from above you. Slowly you raise yourself from the bed to see the source of the snores was coming from none other than Doflamingo. You bite down on your lip in order not to laugh. It was so funny to watch a man so powerful and scary snoring.  He was still human after all. One particularly loud snore causes a giggle to escape your lips. You slam a hand over your mouth and pray he didn’t hear. 
 “Mind telling me what’s so funny?” It was too late, the beast was already lifting up from the bed.
 “It’s nothing Doffy, you were just snoring.” You press your hands against his chest urging him to lay back down. “I’m sure I’ve overstayed my welcome, I apologize. Sleep well young master.” You scooch yourself off the bed only to be pulled back by a strong arm. He brought you back down to his tone chest and wrapped his arm back around you, caging you to his side. Butterflies erupt in your stomach from the gesture. You lips form into a wide smile as you enjoy the warmth he provided.
 “I don’t snore. And you're fine right where you are. This is your reward after all.” You feel his hand draw soothing shapes into your back. I must be dreaming.
 “If that’s the case, I really like my reward. Thank you.” Your eyes travel up to meet his. You were on cloud 9 and the huge smile on your face proved that. He rolls his eyes at you before slamming your head back down. “Can I request one more thing?” You muffle out into his pecs.
 “Well, aren't you a greedy girl? What is this request of yours?” You feel your heartbeat pick up. You hope this doesn't go south like last time. 
 “Will you please kiss me? I’m grateful for everything you’ve given me and I-.” Your cutoff when his lips connect with your. It catches you off guard, but you slowly melt into it. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Thankfully he pulls away before it gets too heated, you doubt your worn out body could go another round.
 “Satisfied?” You meekly nod before laying back down on him. “Good, now go back to sleep.”
 “One more thing.” You hear him groan out in response. “Now that I’ve seen your eyes, are you going to kill me?” The room fell silent before he started laughing.
 “Perhaps.” You don’t know what worse, the fact he’s laughing about it or not knowing if that perhaps was a joke or not. “Now go back to sleep or I may actually off you.” That time you could sense he was kidding. He was kidding right?
 “Yes sir.” And with that you fell back asleep in his protective hold.
 ~The morning after~
 You woke up alone in Doflamingo’s ginormous bed. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll off of the plush mattress. Judging from the amount of sunshine that filled the room, it was very late in the morning. You stretch your arms over your head and let out a satisfied hum.
  Your eyes scan the room and stop on a large tray of sweets sitting on a table. After last night activities, you've worked up a appetite. You walk up to investigate the confections and notice a couple books stacked neatly beside it. You jump up and down when you realize the books are the latest volumes of “Daydreams of Dressrosa”. And they were all signed copies! There was even a copy of the book that was destroyed in the pool yesterday.
 “What page was I on again?” You open the book and skim through the pages until you find a pink feather marking page 112.
 Unknown to you, a certain warlord watched you with a rare, but rather pleasant smile on his face.
~End~
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megamindsecretlair · 5 months
Text
Pour Into Me, Part 1
Pairing: Incubus!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH! PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, breeding kink, possession kink, all consensual. Pet names. AU Tyrone.
Summary: Every night, you dream of the same man. A perfect man who makes all of your dirty fantasies come true. But tonight, you happen to see more than you bargained for.
Word Count: 3,578k
Part 2
A/N: Ahem, ya'll ready for more Spooky Tyrone smut? Happy Happy Halloweek! This was so hot and dirty to write. Enjoy my depraved mind. I got something wonderful planned tomorrow. Hopefully I can get it out before Halloween is over! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios!
Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @notapradagurl7 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse
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You woke to the sound of soothing waves crashing against the shore. You blinked into the soft light filtered through the canopy, getting your bearings. The dream deposited you somewhere new again. 
A warm arm slid over your waist and pulled you back against a thick, strong body. You looked down to see bronzed skin and a big hand over your belly. “You’ve come back,” a deep, melodic voice said. 
You turned your head a little too fast, getting dizzy from the feeling. You had been groggy all day, sleep beckoning you more and more no matter how much sleep you got. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him. 
Your dream man. There was no other way to describe him. One lonely night, he appeared like magic in your dream. He called himself Tyrone and said your body cried out to him, to wherever it was that he resided. 
His wide smile was infectious as he looked at you. He pulled you back against him to feel how aroused and ready he was for you, like always.
His hand flexed over your belly. He began to kiss the sensitive spot behind your ear, causing you to giggle. He knew it made you ticklish so it was the first thing he did to greet you.
“Are you with my child?” He asked. He kissed down your neck, sending shivers down your body. His hand snaked under your short white dress, touching your belly skin to skin. 
“No,” you said. You looked away from him and away from the disappointment on his face. The negative test was stupid. You couldn’t actually get pregnant in a dream right? He looked and felt so real. 
You stared out over the ocean. You watched the cerulean waves rock backwards and forwards. Birds called out overhead. He had created a veritable paradise and all you had was bad news. 
Tyrone grabbed your thigh and squeezed, making you hiss and look at him. There was no disappointment there. Just a devilish gleam in his eye as he smiled wide. “That means we get to keep trying,” he said. 
A piercing pang of desire shot through you causing you to jerk and clench your thighs together. Tyrone tsked at you, rubbing your thighs while he pried them apart. Your legs dropped open. Tyrone stared at the core of you, exposed and needy. Already, your pussy wept for him. You could feel it, dripping out of you. 
“You are going to look so beautiful carrying my seed,” he said. His voice went down an octave, deep as the ocean in front of you. Your eyes snapped to his and for a moment…you giggled. He nearly looked demonic as he stared at your pussy.
You didn’t know what his powers were. But it seemed that he controlled what you wore when you came here. He was obsessed with the feeling of silky white clothes on you. Dresses, pants, skirts, whatever he thought of. He thought you looked gorgeous in all of it. Never any panties though. He hated the things.
“Worst invention known to mankind,” he had muttered the one time he caught you in them. 
You licked your lips. The cool breeze tussled the flowing curtains around the canopy. Though you couldn’t see much outside of it, you knew that the sand was crisp and white. The sun was perfect; not too warm and not too cold. The birds sang overhead, the waves crashed, and there was a seagull playing overhead.
Tyrone moved, the bed dipping beneath his weight as he settled on his side. He rested his head on his left hand, held up on his elbow. He trailed his right hand through your pussy lips, immediately searching and seeking your aching bud. 
At the first pass of his fingers, you gasped. Your mouth dropped open with a strangled moan. He’d just touched you last night, brought you to dizzying heights of pleasure. Still, your body craved him like it craved food and water. 
“Let me hear you,” he said. He dipped his middle fingers into you while rubbing his thumb around your clit in smooth, torturous circles. 
“Ah, ohh,” you moaned. You tried to play it cool. You tried to bite back the feeling of him inside of you. But every inch of him was made for pleasure. His fingers were thick, pumping into you like you know his dick will later. 
“Oohh, fuck,” you said. You widened your legs, giving him more access. He watched your face and all the different expressions you made. He watched for when he did something you loved, something that made you twist your face in delicious pleasure. 
Your hands twisted in the white sheets, your head thrown back against the bed. You closed your eyes and lost yourself to the building sensation of your orgasm. How it rose steadily as if on command by his fingers. 
Finally, it swelled until it rolled over you, soft and lazy like Tyrone’s pumping fingers. You moaned and shook and still his fingers moved. It was like your orgasms turned him on. Filled him with renewed energy to keep going and going. Built for pleasure. Born for sex. 
When you finished, you looked down at him. He seemed to glow softly, around the edges. He licked his lips and pulled his hand back. His hand was soaked with your juices. He brought each digit to his mouth and licked off everything you gave him. 
“You are so damn beautiful, Tyrone. I wish I could see where you lived,” you told him.
He smirked as he licked his fingers. “A beautiful woman like you has no place where I am from. It is an ugly and jealous place. Here, I know beauty. Here, I know you,” he said in between licks. 
You watched his throat work. He wore a sheer white tank top and lounging pants. His chest was broad, sculpted, enough to make Michaelangelo cry. 
Done with cleaning his fingers, Tyrone gave you a dark look. He smiled as he rolled over onto his stomach, once more spreading your legs for him. He groaned at the sight. You watched him lick his lips, seeming to salivate more than what was normal. 
He bit your thigh and you cried out, your eyes snapping to him. He grinned and then licked the sting away.
“You’re in a playful mood tonight,” you said. You wiggled your hips, knowing what came next. 
“You have no idea the restraint I’m showing,” he said, his voice barely louder than the waves. The sound of the waves stuttered and you looked past the flowing curtains. The waves still moved back and forth but seemed out of sync of the sound.
Tyrone took a deep breath and the sound slowed down, matching with the waves once more. “Tyrone? Did you hear that?” You asked. The waves did seem a little too perfect. Dots of light reflected the sun. But where was the sun? 
Tyrone dipped his head and licked a long stripe between your entrance and your pussy lips. “Oh, fuck!” You cried out, jerking in surprise. 
Tyrone groaned and took a deep, audible breath. Your pussy fluttered, knowing that he was close and inspecting your every move. Tyrone blew a breath across your wet core and your dress dissolved. You giggled as the material fell away from you, disappearing into thin air. His tricks never ceased to amaze you. 
“That’s not very fair. I can’t do the same to you,” you said. You leaned up on your elbows so that you could look at him. He grinned innocently and then his clothes disappeared as well. You bit your lip watching it fall away and his body revealed itself. The swell of his ass, the dip of his hip, his powerful thighs on the bed. 
He kissed the sides of your knees, massaged your inner thighs, and scooted up the bed until his face was level with your pussy. “Play with your nipples for me. Squeeze them how I like,” he commanded. 
He waited for your hands to snake across your body. For your deft fingers to circle your nipples, giving him a show while you pleasured yourself. It wasn’t until he growled that you finally tugged on your nipples, pinching them between your index finger and thumb. 
“Harder,” he said. 
You pinched yourself harder and felt it all the way down to your pussy. Tyrone turned his attention back to you and pressed his face against your pussy and started to play with you. “Shit, that feels so good,” you moaned. You threw your head back against the pillows but you couldn’t sit still. 
His tongue weaved its own magic, curling against your clit and flicking back and forth. His thumbs opened you up further so that he could get the surrounding areas. His thumbs traced circles on you while his tongue went lower, dipping into your soppy wet entrance. 
“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Right there, don’t stop,” you groaned, your body shaking. Tyrone held your shaking thighs, keeping them open. You twisted and turned trying to escape him, but he snapped with an inhuman growl and you froze. You whined as you came from that sound alone. 
Your eyes crossed as you came, gushing out over his mouth. He still tongue fucked you through it, feeling your walls contract through your orgasm. You opened your eyes and looked through the top of the canopy. The sky overhead looked painted on. As if you could reach your hand up and feel a ceiling.
But didn’t you hear birds flying overhead? You strained your ears and indeed heard birds calling to each other. You searched the sky but didn’t exactly see any birds. Where were you?
Tyrone replaced the view of the sky. You smiled at him, all disturbing thoughts leaving you at the sight of him. “It’s not time to go yet,” he said. He leaned down to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours and you sighed, relishing the feeling of him over you as a solid weight. You tasted yourself on his tongue and you chased his mouth, wanting to lick and suck him more.
You pushed at his shoulders however. He grinned, letting himself be pushed. You pushed until he lay on the bed. His dark hair was a neat contrast against the white pillows. He looked like a little devil laying there, ready to corrupt your mortal soul. 
You straddled him, your knees on either side of his hips. He held you about the waist as he scooted up further into a half-sitting position. “Is my little Angel getting bold?” He asked. 
You only grinned. You were certainly no angel as you lifted up on your knees. His engorged length slipped between your legs and you cried out as you tried to line him up. His leaking tip moved to your entrance and you both sighed as you finally seated yourself on his length. 
“Pussy grip me so tight, Angel,” he groaned. 
You clenched around him as you leaned back, putting your hands on his thighs and putting yourself at an angle. He groaned as your titties poked out in this position, within reach and yet out of it. 
“Ride me,” he commanded. 
You leaned back, feeling him slowly slip out of you. You watched him. His eyes zeroed in on where you were joined watching your arousal coat his dick. His eyes widened and his mouth hung slightly open. 
You paused, already straining, sweat gathering down your back to hold this spot. You wanted to bounce on his dick, wanted to milk him dry, but you also wanted to see the cool and calm dream man you’ve come to know lose his head a bit. 
When you didn’t move for a few seconds, he brought his gaze to you. “Ride me,” he said.
You shook your head. His eyes narrowed. “Ride me,” he said again. 
Again, you shook your head and kept moving back, moving him out of you. That otherworldly growl crept back into his throat. He wrapped two massive hands around your waist, intent on pulling you back down on his dick.
You leaned forward and wrapped your hand around his throat. Tyrone shuddered and you felt every inch of him shake, his dick twitching inside of you. “You didn’t say please,” you cooed. 
His fingers flexed against your hips, digging into that endless squishy bit. He rolled his neck and you squeezed harder. He groaned and rolled his hips and you gasped. He felt bigger somehow, like he gained more girth and split you open. 
“Ride me,” he commanded. “Let me feel that pussy suck this dick down,” he said. But it wasn’t a request. You squeezed your fingers more, feeling his pulse jump in his throat. 
You leaned up on your hips and pushed him back in. You descended on him gradually, memorizing every delicious inch as he stretched you out. You felt full and stuffed. Your pussy squelched around his dick, your arousal leaking out of you. 
You moved his head back and forth and he went willingly, his eyes glazing over. A thrill of power went through you. He could snap you in half. He could break your back in ten different ways without lifting a finger. The thought of him beneath you only turned you on. 
Your energy seemed to call to him. With each naughty thought that rose to your mind, his dick pulsed inside of you. You leaned forward and he groaned at the slide and smack of your pussy. You kissed his jaw on either side of his face, running your tongue across his lips. 
“Beg for it,” you said. 
He groaned. “I ain’t begging for shit,” he said. 
You turned his head and licked his ear, played with his earlobe between your teeth. He rolled his hips and he slipped more of himself inside of you. This was a vicious game between you two. You desperately wanted to move. To suck him all down. Keep him inside of you. 
You weren’t asking for the moon. Just a little recognition that you affected him. That he wasn’t going to disappear the moment he put a baby inside of you. 
You contracted around his dick, squeezing and unsqueezing him. He shut his eyes, a cute little crinkle in the corners. 
“Okay, okay, wait,” he whispered. 
“Come on,” you purred in his ear. “Just a little? Don’t you want to fill me up? Don’t you want to pump your seed into me?” You continued to squeeze around him, purring filthy things into his ear. 
“Don’t you want to bury this dick in me? Ruin me for any other?”
“No one’s ever going to touch what’s mine,” he said. He grabbed your hips roughly, his fingers almost feeling like claws against you. You groaned at the edge of pain. You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your breast, needing to feel him everywhere. 
His hand latched on immediately, pulling and tugging at your nipple. You groaned at the feeling. “Can you picture it? Your seed leaking out of me?” 
“Ungh, yes,” he said. He rolled his hips and you shared a groan. 
“I know you like to watch as it slides down my leg,” you said. You licked the shell of his ear. 
“Ride me, ride me,” he said.
“Good boys ask nicely,” you said. 
He groaned and ended it on a chuckle. “Okay, okay, please? Please ride me. I need you. I need you to move,” he said. 
You grinned and kissed him. You kept your hand on his throat as you began to speed up, rocking on his dick. 
“Fuck, just like that. Just like that. Take that shit,” he moaned. He pushed into your hand around his neck, increasing the pressure, while he kissed up your neck as you bounced on him. Pressure built up in your belly, pushing with every stroke. 
“Oh, I’m gonna–” 
You exploded around his dick with a loud, lewd moan. The orgasm caught you off guard. You hadn’t realized you were that close. You clung to Tyrone, shaking and moaning. A whimpering mess as you flooded his dick with your arousal. 
He fucked you through it, taking over the strokes. “Cum so pretty for me. So loud for me,” he cooed as he kissed you. You cried into his mouth and he swallowed each one. He seemed to thrive on it. Gain energy from it. 
He grunted and released himself inside of you. His warm, sticky cum pulsed and shot hot jets up to the very center of you. “Oh fuck,” you cried out. 
Tyrone groaned, rolling his head back and forth as if he were drunk. He laughed as he spent himself, falling back against the cushions. You bit your lip and cried as you slipped out.
“Where you think you going?” He asked. 
He hooked his legs around yours, grabbed your arm, and flipped you onto your stomach. “Ty-?” 
Tyrone entered you again on a savage thrust. Air whooshed out of you. His hips ground into your ass, pushing you against the bed, and falling over you so you couldn’t get up. He smacked your ass and it jiggled from the force of it. The sting made you hiss and moan.
“Thought I wasn’t gonna get payback?”
His sturdy body pressed you into the mattress, cutting off ready air supply. You struggled for air as he pounded into you relentlessly, somehow still hard. He pulled on your hair, pulling you back towards him so that you were bent in half.
“Look at me while I fuck you,” his gravelly voice commanded. 
You could only look out of the corner of your eye. The bestial sight of him made a scream clog your throat. His red eyes glowed unnaturally against the white world around you. The sound of the waves cut out. The birds retreated entirely. 
You gushed around his dick, seeing the true form of him and you weren’t afraid. You were surprised but not afraid. You knew something had been off; the worlds he created too perfect. Too clean. The way he spoke of heaven and your angelic nature. He bordered on obsessed with it. 
“Fuck,” he said as he pounded into you. He leaned away as if he meant to stop.
You leaned on your right side enough to slip your left hand against his on your waist. “Dont. Stop,” you muttered in between strokes. 
He jerked forward as if he were trying to go deeper. As if he could plant his seed like a stake into the ground.  “Fuck. Perfect. You’re perfect. You’re perfect,” he chanted over and over like a prayer. 
He kept up his punishing strokes, fucking the air out of you. Your pussy greedily sucked him in. The snap of his hips was loud in the sudden emptiness of the dream world. The sky darkened, rolling black clouds moving overhead. 
“Fuck, not yet. Not yet. Stay, stay, stay,” he said. Each word was another stroke, another snap of his hips. Your ass clapped against his thighs. Each clap brought thunder and lightning danced overhead. 
“Oh fuck me. You’re so deep, so good,” you cried, breathless and whiny. He yanked on your hair harder and you moaned. You bit the pillow beneath you as the sun winked out. He groaned and grunted, slamming into you with reckless abandon. 
He was unleashed, no longer needing to keep the world together for you. He had succeeded in dragging you down into his ugliness and yet your slick heat welcomed him in. Your cries and moans encouraged him to keep going, to wring every last bit of pleasure out of you. 
He moved his left hand around your thigh, spreading your pussy lips and rubbing your clit. “C’mon, c’mon,” he muttered.
You bowed at an unwieldy angle and came with a ferocious purr, snapping your thighs together and trapping him as best as you could. He groaned at the tighter channel, your orgasm only fueling his own. 
He pumped you with load after load of hot cum, stuffing you full and making sure it was in there deep. The world turned darker and darker, wakefulness pulling you away from him already.
Still, he snapped his hips. Still, he thrust his cum into you and hoped that it would take. That you would come back to him with news of his seed growing inside of you. That you would carry a piece of him. That every twitch and jerk in your belly would remind you of him and his dick lodged inside of you where he belonged. 
The blaring, irritating sound of your alarm hauled you to wakefulness with a disappointed cry. Your sheets were soaked through with sweat. Areas stuck to your overheated, naked skin. You hadn’t remembered crawling into bed right after your shower, but you must have.
Or perhaps Tyrone was getting stronger the more you fucked. Perhaps his powers crossed to the real world the more you welcomed him into your body. You flopped onto the wet sheets and groaned. You moved your legs, your pussy a little sore from all the rough fucking. 
You closed your legs as if you could still feel him there, trying to shove more of his cum inside you. You caressed your belly in the dim darkness of your bedroom and imagined what he’d have in store for you tonight.
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Need some more in your life? There's more!
Part 1 | The Secret Tyrone Files
196 notes · View notes
coconutcordiale · 2 years
Text
misconceptions
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pairing- jake 'hangman' seresin x female!reader x bradley 'rooster' bradshaw (no use of y/n)
synopsis-
“You know, on account of your whole aggressively heterosexual, toxically masculine, 'I'm God’s gift to women' thing.”
Only Hangman is shameless enough to be offended at something so obvious. “I’m not aggressively heterosexual.”
warnings- 18+ minors DNI, (& glen don't read this shit please i'm embarrassed), allusions to previous threesome (m/f/f), voyeurism, implied threesome (f/m/m), public teasing, you prob shouldn't fuck in cars while they're moving bc seat belts/safety but this is self indulgent so let me live, fingering, edging, crying, praise kink, oral (f receiving), soft dom bradley, not so soft (but not really mean) jake, light dumbification/ degradation/ something along those lines, brat tamer boys, established rooster x reader relationship
length- 3.7k idk why my pwp is like this god help me when i finish something that's more than banter & smut again it'll be a billion words
an- I WAS working on something that didn't have smut but then miles posted that fucking picture- blame him. so here we go again...I don't...know what this is and i actually kind of hate it but i need it out of my brain. I'm sure rooster x hangman x reader has been done to death but I made an allusion to it in up to no good and well. yeah. so technically this is a sequel to that but you don't need to read that first because any illusion of plot in this is just a means for smut. *hides and blushes like a slut*
I want to say the entire premise of this is crack but my guy friends have convos like this at the bar all the time so who knows. I mean it's still ridiculous but...idk also the working title of this was bob fucks even though he's not even it and I thought that was amusing
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“Knockout, five o’clock,” Payback mutters, looking behind you and Jake. “Looks like she’s got her sights set on you, Seresin.”
Jake manages a quick look over his shoulder, smirking when he turns back around because she is, in fact, gorgeous and beelining straight for his side of the table.
He rolls his shoulders back and winks at the group. You make a fake gagging noise purely out of reflex and nothing else, you swear, contemplating going up to the bar for another drink just so you don’t have to bear witness to this. You’re about to get up when you catch a very feminine hand out of the corner of your eye, going to tap you lightly on the shoulder.
“Hey,” the girl says, sidling up to you and immediately turning her back to Jake. “Where’s Bradley?”
Oh.
“Still on base,” you reply, quickly smiling in recognition. “It’s good to see you, Ash, you look good.”
“I’ll say,” Ashley answers, eyeing you up and down. She raises an eyebrow when her gaze gets to the hem of your sundress that’s resting a little high on your thigh. “I’m in town for a few days, come find me later if he makes it up here tonight.”
You duck your head, fighting the blush rising up your neck. “Maybe, I’ll let you know.”
“Please do.” Ashley winks, running her hand down your arm to the inside of your wrist, just this side of too familiar. She gives you a quick squeeze with delicate fingers and you hope no one notices the goosebumps raising on your arms before she turns on her heel to disappear back into the crowd.
You stare decidedly at your beer after Ashley saunters away, feeling everyone’s eyes on you and wanting to avoid this conversation as long as possible.
When you finally look up Phoenix is clearly fighting back a giggle, but her eyes are directed to the right of you, at Hangman.
“What the fuck was that?” He finally croaks after a few beats of awkward silence, mouth dry.
Phoenix reaches over to smack him upside the head. “You can’t really be this stupid.”
Jake is pretty sure he isn’t but he’s also kind of thinks he might be having a stroke.
“Always thought you guys were so boring,” he says dumbly, mouth agape.
Phoenix sighs, like she can’t comprehend how she ended up surrounded by so little intelligence, leaning over again to close Jake’s jaw. “Don’t mind him, up until two minutes ago he thought you and Rooster only banged in missionary.”
You blink.
You can’t believe that just came out of her mouth so casually.
You’re going to kill Rooster for not being here to endure this with you.
“Why…have you been speculating about how Rooster and I fuck?” You ask finally, slowly, pretty sure you don’t want to know the answer. Lack of self-preservation makes you ask anyways.
“Well, there had to be some sort of explanation for why it’s so easy for you to rile him up,” Jake declares, voice going a little high.
Huh.
Terrible logic but you suppose that could’ve been worse.
Still. This is a discussion you have negative interest in having. In public. With all your friends right here. With Hangman, of all people.
“Can we talk about something else? Like, literally anything else?” You don't want to beg, but this entire conversation is making your leg twitch.
“Nope,” Payback answers immediately. “We need more information.”
“We have questions,” Fanboy concurs.
You want to crawl under the table.
“I have questions too,” you shoot back instead, figuring you'll try going on the offensive. “Why do you guys want to know about our sex life? Because I’ve heard way too much from your girlfriends and I now have to live with that horrifying knowledge for the rest of my life. Why would you want those details voluntarily?”
Phoenix hums in agreement and you’re overwhelmed with the urge to hug her.
“Is that right, sweets?” Jake grins, clearly having recovered somewhat.
“Not you, Jake," you shoot back. "Thank God you haven’t dated anyone long enough for me to become friends with her.”
You studiously do not mention that he’s probably the only one you might welcome salacious details about.
“Because the rest of us aren’t having threesomes,” Payback adds, ignoring the blonde. “We’re jealous.”
You cough, averting eye contact. “Well, some of you are.”
They’re all staring at you again and you shrug. “Look, Bob fucks, not my fault the rest of you don’t.”
Jake has hit Ctrl-Alt-Delete on his temporary recovery, chunked the laptop that operates his brain out the window, and is now definitely having a stroke.
“You…and Bob?”
You scrub your hand across your face, not sure how much more of this high-pitched Hangman you can handle tonight. It’s making you edgy. “Not with me. Keep it together, pretty boy.”
Normally, you’d rejoice in the slight pink tinge gracing Jake’s cheekbones when you call him pretty boy, in one upping Hangman for a second, even if you’re the only one that notices. Tonight, it only scatters anxiety through your bloodstream.
At this point you decide to just get up and leave the table. It’s probably for the best.
“Are you gonna make it?” Phoenix asks Jake after you’ve made your way to the bar.
“No,” he answers petulantly.
•••
Hangman looks decidedly more like his usual self lounging across from you and Rooster in the booth you've taken to hiding in and you're silently thanking the whiskey he's switched to for it.
He's a pain in the ass, sure, but when he's not bantering with you, you're not even sure what to do with him. Shrill is not a word you thought you'd ever have to use to describe him, you're practically trembling at the memory of it.
All that means you're smiling, a little wicked, while you lean into the warmth of Rooster’s body. “Don’t worry, Hang, no one expects you to have a threesome unless it’s with two other girls.”
His eyes nearly bulge out of his head and you bite back a snicker. Direct hit. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
When you’re pretty sure you’re not going to laugh directly in his face, you wave your hand dismissively, hoping the wild hand gesture captures Jake’s whole air. “You know, on account of your whole aggressively heterosexual, toxically masculine, ‘I’m God’s gift to women’ thing.”
Only Hangman is shameless enough to be offended at something so obvious. “I’m not aggressively heterosexual.”
“Twenty bucks your tongue is down some poor girls throat by the end of the night.”
“That’s called having game,” he retorts. “I’ll have you know I’m a very enlightened man. Good to know you pay so much attention to my conquests though, sweets.”
He winks and you immediately wonder why you were grateful for his mood shift.
“Conquests, seriously?” You fight back a gag. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Jake.”
You hope the use of his real name emphasizes your disappointment in him.
Rooster’s gaze is flitting back and forth between you two like he’s watching a tennis match, expression calculating. “I don’t know that I feel like calling Ashley tonight.”
Both of your mouths snap shut when you register what he just said.
Where did that come from?
“Well, that figures, little bird. I’m surprised you knew what to do with both of them the first time around.” Hangman grins around his glass before taking another sip of whiskey.
Rooster rolls his eyes, but otherwise waves off the dig. “I just think there’s something else princess might enjoy a little more.”
You immediately feel heat rising to your cheeks. That explains his abrupt timing.
“Rooster,” you manage to grit out, warning in your tone as you tighten your fingers on his thigh.
He ignores you, because he knows you. Knows what you secretly want, what you’re too embarrassed to say out loud, too proud to admit. If you weren't so busy being uncomfortable you'd have warmth spreading through your chest at the knowledge that he just wants to take care of you, give you what you need.
Rooster runs his hand up your bare thigh, playing with the hem of your dress, and it sends a jolt of electricity through you before immediately blowing a fuse in your willpower.
“Come on, baby," he murmurs. "Don’t you want to tell him what we talked about the other day? After the beach?”
Crimson is painting itself across your cheekbones, you’re sure of it.
Recognition crosses Hangman’s face and he clears his throat, which is suddenly dry.
“Talk about me a lot while you’re fucking your girl, Bradshaw?” He taunts, but there’s something thick in his voice, something rapidly glazing over his bright eyes.
“Rooster,” you say again, but this time it comes out a little whinier, a little more abashed.
“Baby, it’s okay,” Rooster soothes you, gentle and doting, because he always knows how to make you melt like butter. “I see how he looks at you.”
Hangman fiddles with the rim of his rocks glass, but he doesn’t deny it.
If you were more present in this moment, if you weren’t so distracted by the need suddenly, insistently thrumming through your body, by Rooster’s hand burning on your thigh; you might be amused at this role reversal, Rooster calm, collected and bordering on cocky, while Hangman shifts across from you, curiosity making him jumpy in his seat.
Rooster’s mustache tickles your cheek as he runs his mouth across you, mouth moving to latch onto the sensitive spot below your ear. Your lips part of their own accord as you feel him move his hand under the skirt of your dress, brushing his knuckles against where you’re already soaking through your panties.
Meeting the green eyes across from you feels hot like burning and you tuck your face into Rooster’s neck to hide from it, biting your lip to keep from letting out the truly obscene noise that’s bubbling in your chest. “Can we please go home, babe?”
He chuckles, hooking a finger under your chin so you’re forced to meet his gaze, tilting his head in the direction of the man across from you. “That depends. Are you gonna be a good girl for him, baby?”
Well, Rooster certainly isn't waiting patiently on his perch tonight then, is he?
Your breath hitches, everything in your body going still for a moment when you hear him, before words come tumbling out of your mouth.
“Yes, yes, yes, I promise, Bradley, please,” you whine softly, fingers gripping the edge of his open shirt, looking for something, anything to keep you grounded.
“Jesus,” you hear faintly from the other side of the table. When you look up you catch Jake’s eyes, pupils blown so wide they’re practically black.
Your boyfriend’s lips twitch upwards, but he’s not looking at you. Instead, he’s turned towards the blonde, while his fingers continue running up and down your clothed slit. “Gorgeous like this, isn’t she?”
“Christ, Bradshaw. Understatement of the year. What a nice surprise this is.”
“Only gets better the more you tease her,” he promises.
“I’m right here,” you protest, narrowing your eyes at the two men. You’re aiming for annoyed but you’re pretty sure the words come out petulant instead. If you were standing you might even stomp your foot.
“I’m so sorry, baby. Are you feeling a little ignored?” Bradley coos with a quick peck to your cheek, hint of condescension in his tone.
Jake shoots you a wicked grin, mischief lighting up his face. “Should’ve known you’d be a fuckin’ brat.”
“Bratty girls don’t deserve to get what they want, do they?” Bradley asks Jake, but his eyes are on you.
You pout, looking up at him and trying to look as cute as possible, hoping an innocent expression might get you out of this little predicament.
It usually works on Bradley, but Jake just snickers from his side of the booth.
“No, they don’t. Not sure they deserve to wear panties either.”
“The man makes a good point,” Bradley agrees, tearing his attention from your imploring eyes.
Distantly, you’re glad he’s angled his body to block you from the rest of the bar, because Bradley is working baby blue lace down your hips, lifting you slightly in the process, before settling you back down with your feet in Jake’s lap under the table.
Jake sends a cheeky wink your direction as his hand runs up the inside of your leg, squeezing your calf, then thigh in a way that could really only be described as affectionate, which sends shivers down your body right to your core. He pulls your panties the rest of the way down, letting you catch a glimpse of his fingers running over them before he puts them in his pocket.
“Drenched those, didn’t you darlin’?” He drawls, as he stares you dead in the eyes and licks your slick from his fingers.
Your mouth drops open of its own accord and before you even have a chance to recover you feel fingers pressing against your bundle of nerves. Thankfully, Bradley kisses you a moment later, swallowing the moan that leaves your lips. “Shh, we don’t want everyone to hear, do we?”
“Fuck, she’d probably like that, wouldn't she?”
You blink slowly, eyes struggling to focus as they move between the two men.
Bradley smirks. “Poor baby, lost your words already?”
Your brain has been wiped clean so you can only mewl quietly in response.
“Think she might be obedient enough to go, now,” Jake offers.
You’re pretty sure you look drunk as you stumble outside, Bradley supporting you with an arm around your waist, nearly carrying you out.
When you reach the car, he turns to deposit you into the other man's arms. “Just don’t let her come till we get home, yeah?”
Jake grins. “Sure thing, Bradshaw.”
The moment you’re in the back of the Bronco Jake is all over you, pulling you in for a rough kiss.
He manhandles you onto his lap, pulling your back against his front as his hand slides up to your jaw, forcing your attention to Bradley in the driver’s seat.
You meet Bradley’s stare in the rearview mirror, and he grins, clearly enjoying how debauched you look in Jake’s lap, as much as he can while driving, anyways. Your mouth parts as Jake trails his down the side of your neck, across your shoulder, leaving red bite marks as he goes.
You’re thinking about how powerful Jake looks behind you, completely unbothered by your boyfriend’s eyes constantly darting from the road to the mirror to watch you both, when his hand slides underneath your dress, bunching it up and out of his way, leaving you bare against his pants.
“Fuck,” Jake groans, fingers flicking expertly at your entrance. “You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart.”
You can’t help but blush, head ducking down as you focus on the wispy material of your dress falling haphazardly off your chest, breaking your gaze from the front of the car.
“Jake,” you whimper, grinding back onto his lap.
He clucks a noise of disapproval and your stomach rolls unpleasantly at the idea that you’ve disappointed him already. “Let him watch your pretty mouth moan my name, sugar.”
You snap your head back up at his words, rushing to comply, rushing to be good, only to meet cheeky, dark eyes in the mirror. Your mouth drops open as Jake eases a finger into you, gaze fixed on Bradley as heat washes over you.
Jake adds another finger, and then twists, while his thumb rubs insistent figure eights along your aching clit. If you had any sense, you might be bashful at how your legs are already shaking where they’re bracketed around his.
You vaguely remember Bradley’s instructions before getting in the car, but you can’t help the pleading falling from your lips anyways.
“Wanna come, Jake, please, please, need it,” you whine, squirming in his lap, on his fingers, against the bruising hold his other hand has on your hip. You can’t get comfortable, can’t stop moving, it’s not enough, you need more.
He chuckles, the sound mocking, bordering on mean, and you can’t help but shudder at the way it shoots heat right through you.
“I could let you come all over my fingers,” he muses languidly, pressing slow circles on your clit, like you have all the time in the world in the back of Bradley’s bronco. The yes, please, is on the tip of your tongue when he continues, words hot in your ear. “Or I could edge you with my mouth until you cry.”
You and Bradley suck in simultaneous sharp breaths at Jake’s words and you can practically feel the amusement radiating from him.
“Sweetheart, you gonna tell me what you want?”
You’re biting your lip to keep the obscene noises threatening to tear from you muffled, teeth so tight on your swollen lip you’re surprised you haven’t drawn blood.
His fingers still after a few torturous seconds of you attempting to remember how to make decisions. You could do that, at one point in your life, you think.
“Asked you a question.”
Frustrated, your eyebrows knit together as you try to form words. “Jake.”
He grazes his teeth across your neck, and you can feel that infamous smirk against your skin. “As pretty as you sound saying it, my name is not the answer.”
“I…fuck, Jake, I don’t—” you mewl brokenly, hands going to his arms, pushing, gripping, hoping you can get him to move again, give you what you need.
“Seem to remember you promising you’d be good for me.” Jake continues, as if you haven’t spoken at all and there’s a steely edge in his tone that sends another wave of heat straight to your core.
“Sorry, sorry, Jake please, sorry, can be, I swear,” you babble. Your voice sounds foreign to you, high and whiny like it might crack and break if you don’t get his approval.
“Be a good girl and tell me what you want, then.”
You’re flushing with embarrassment at this, you know what you want, but it doesn’t make your cheeks flame any less to have to admit it. “Your mouth, please, Jake need your mouth on me…”
“Good choice, darlin’,” he murmurs, lifting you up and laying you down on your back as he bends to put your legs over his shoulders, kneeling impossibly in the backseat. “Knew a slutty little thing like you wouldn’t be satisfied until you were wrecked.”
He must be really flexible, you think helplessly, before his tongue licks a stripe up your slit and drives every other remaining thought from your body.
He works those thick fingers into you again, curling them at the same time he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks.
Your back arches involuntarily, stars suddenly dancing across your vision. Worked up as you are he brings you to the edge quickly, and you stupidly think he might actually let you go over.
Just as your whines are hitting their crescendo, just when you’re so close you can practically taste it—he pulls back, mouth suddenly moving down your hip, away from where you want him, fingers retreating to leave you clenching around nothing. The noise you make in response is obscenely close to a wail, bringing tears to your eyes.
You blink them back hard, determined not to let Jake win so quickly.
He nips the inside of your thigh, making you spasm in surprise. As soon as you’ve come down from the sheer disappointment and not a second later, he’s back on you, lips and fingers working determinedly to wind you up again.
Jake continues his little routine, one, two, three more times until you’re sobbing, unable to hold the tears back as they leak from the corners of your eyes. Your hands are tight in his hair, trying to keep his mouth on you, terrified of him stopping and leaving you frustrated and aching again.
Hazily, you’re aware that the car isn’t moving anymore, that if you turn your head a little to the left you can see Bradley biting his lips and white knuckling the steering wheel, eyes fixed on you in the mirror still. That there’s nonsense pouring from your mouth in between the cries, as you writhe against Jake’s face, I need, Jake please, please, I can’t, Jakejakejake, I—
“You can let go for him, baby.” You hear Bradley’s deep voice cutting through the fog in your mind.
His words tingle across your skin, at the tip of every nerve ending, as your muscles start contracting, giving in to what you’ve been begging for since you got in the car. It crashes into you, an avalanche rumbling through your body, back arching in a moment of pure perfection. And all that’s left is a glowing, fuzzy feeling, warmth spreading through your chest like you just finished a shot of whiskey.
“Jesus,” Jake whispers as you come down, mouth trailing softly up your stomach, your chest and across your jaw, to brush your lips. “Fuck, sweetheart, such a good girl for me.” His words are muffled as you taste the tang of yourself on his mouth and wrecked as you are you still preen at his praise.
The driver’s side door opens and shuts with a definitive thud, pulling you and Jake out of your stupor. He gives you one last peck before dragging your dress back down, although you suffer from no misconceptions that it’ll help you look any less debauched.
You let yourself be tugged out of the car and into Jake’s arms, limbs leaden and slow on your way to your front door as your brain catches up with your body. You list against him, eyes fluttering closed as Bradley digs around for his keys. Once he opens the door he turns to you, smirking at the dazed expression washed over your features, the lazy blinks as you try to focus your eyes.
“Aw, baby, you can’t be tired already,” Bradley coos, reaching up to hold your face and affectionately running his thumbs over your cheekbones, wiping away any errant tears. “We’re just getting started.”
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aziraphales-library · 1 month
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hey yall! i appreciate everything u do :] i wanted to know if you know of any bottom/sub crowley fics that heavily feature begging/desperation? if this is okay to request that is
tysm!! -haywire anon
Of course it's okay! Here are some begging bottom Crowley fics for you...
In Good Hands by tikli (E)
Thirsty Redhead Gets Railed By Blond Masseur
Reason Comes on the Common Tongue of Your Loving Me by Anonymous (E)
"Oh, yes, so very good, Crowley — oh, you were made for me, my darling," the angel continued in a low purr, tonguing along the length of Crowley's neck, sucking bruises along the line of his Adam's apple and making him tip his head back with a keening sound as he sank back down on Aziraphale's length. They both moaned, and as Aziraphale spoke again, his voice was low and filled with heat, filled with a possessiveness that made Crowley feel like he had caught fire that was consuming him from the inside out. (PWP with a focus on body worship and praise; lots of tender moments and sweet aftercare! Don't like, don't read, please!)
two mistakes make a… quickie? by revelations_chapter_six (E)
Aziraphale really hadn't meant to send Crowley that dick pic. But, fucking him up against the wall of the men's restroom, he's certainly not sorry he did it.
The Beauty of Indulgence by Ineffably_Yours (E)
Crowley and Aziraphale dine at the Ritz. (With a spicy twist.)
To Have and To Hold (forever and ever, amen.) by Theres_a_whore_loose_in_the_archives (E)
“Well you know I can have a terrible possessive streak, Crowley. I’m not proud of it.” “Can you Angel?” “Yes!! I mean look at this place. I can count on one hand the books I’ve let leave the shop in decades, maybe centuries. I’m greedy Crowley, I get awfully jealous at the thought... I can’t bear to let anyone else have them. I need to have them all to myself.” He was waving his hands around wildly. Crowley watched idly. “Alright.” Aziraphale was getting more and more flustered admitting this… whatever it was. “I need to have you all to myself.” He said, emphatically. Crowley chuckled. “Oh Angel, you’ve got me! I’m all yours.” “I need to show you, though. I feel that terrible… vice of mine come to the surface when I’m around you. And I keep having all these horrible thoughts, Crowley.” He took a step towards the demon.” I need to make you feel that you’re mine. Only mine.” Crowley put down his book slowly, paying full attention. “Ok.” The angel blinked. “What?” “Show me then.” --------------------------------- Aziraphale confesses an unexplored sin of his. Crowley wants to see it. 10 pages of possessive Aziraphale.
So Much More by ashaydamn (E)
After the onslaught of the Armageddon That Wasn’t, it seemed the only beings - organic or occult - left to occupy the space were the plants. The plants which adorned the bedroom, for instance, had found themselves in complete solitude for nearly the whole summer, by the looks of the slowly yellowing leaves on the trees outside their window. Wherever their master was, the silence and solitude was a nice change of pace from the typical leaf-shaking fear which accompanied the regular presence of the snarling beast that tended them. Today though, the silence was broken. A voice not unlike their long-lost master’s echoed through the wall, colored by affects of passion and exertion. Seems not only had someone brought home a guest, but if the muffled whimpers and frantic begging were any indication, it wasn’t their master that the plants should quake in fear of today. -- In which Crowley learns the consequences of cumming without permission.
- Mod D
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issamultistan · 10 months
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use me. | miguel o’hara
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paring: husband!miguel x fem!reader
count: 1,435 (one thousand, four hundred, thrity-five words)
warnings: nsfw content, cursing, intentional lowercase, proofread !
contents: pwp, soft miguel in the beginning!!!!, dom!miguel, sub!reader, race neutral reader, oral (f receiving), constraints, breath play(?), size kink, stomach bulge, dacryphilia, praise, posessive!miguel, creampie, no condom! please use protection irl, use of “mi amor” , “mi alma”
notes: miguel o’hara’s cock so good it got you crying call it miguel no’mascara !!! you and miguel are speaking spanish here and there in the fic btw!
also, sdt to my pookie bear, d for the translations and overall fueling my miguel o’hara obsession!!
“mi alma. you have to stop straining yourself. please, just relax. i’m being very serious right now.”
“what could i even do, mi amor?! i don’t know what to do! how can i relax in this time?”
“you could use me.”
even miguel o’hara was a bit shocked at your words. it wasn’t everyday that the two of you got into a little verbal tussle like today, but today was strange. there were more anomalies than usual. you could say it stressed miguel more than the both of you could even imagine.
“are you sure, y/n? i don’t wanna hurt you, mi amor,” he mumbles a bit before raising a hand to gently stroke the side of your cheek.
“yes, i’m sure. mi alma, i trust you to not hurt me in the first place. are you crazy?” you leave an airy laugh as you hold his hand in place on your face. you trusted him with so much.
after a few moments of silence, he takes a deep breath before looking at you again. you nodded just to reassure him. after he got your nod of approval, he kisses you without any hesitation. “go as hard as you want.” you murmur against his cheek, already breathless.
he practically rips all of your clothing off of you. he needed you to relax and release steam, while you were enjoying the fact your husband is using you tonight.
miguel quickly shoots some webs to constrain your wrists to your back and raises your legs up. he starts off with a few ankle kisses. he hurriedly kisses down your calves, your inner thigh, and finally one pretty kiss on your cunt. miguel bends your knees to hook them over your shoulder before he tongues your clit with secure hands on your propped thighs.
sliding up and down, his tongue does wonders on you. kissing, licking, and sucking on your labia. around and around as you push your legs down even more. the heels of your feet were pressed down on miguel’s back, making his mouth lap at your pussy deeper than ever before.
your eyes were concentrated on his mouth. the heat rising was immensely fast. your wrists struggle, wanting to touch him so bad. your whimpers of his name increased as your orgasm was neared.
“i see you like it a lot, y/n,” miguel whispers against your cunt, sending vibrations of his words up your spine as he kept on devouring your soaking cunt.
“yes—! god, i love it, miguel—! mhmgh—!” in hitched breaths, miguel left you breathless with your words. unable to properly form sentences just from pussy eating alone. but then, miguel pushes out his fangs to harshly bite the side of your labia. a jolt of painful pleasure runs through your body.
in mere seconds, your orgasm comes crashing down rapidly, causing your cunt juices to drip and smear miguel’s lower half of his face. “m—miguel! fuck— please i need you in me— please, please, please!” you begged, squirming up and down against his mouth.
with one tough slap against your thigh, miguel groans, “paciencia, mi amor. lo siento por esto, pero…” right then, miguel spurts small webs to cover your mouth from talking anymore.
almost immediately afterwards, miguel peels off all of his clothes that were on him. he presses his cold body against your heated body. you whimper against the webs, unable to say anything at all.
although you were already sensitive enough, miguel grips onto his hard cock, stroking it slowly against your puffy cunt, “tan linda,” he murmurs while lightly laughing. miguel comes down near your face, still stroking your cunt and kisses your forehead once, before slowly sliding himself past your folds.
the squelch and the sudden largeness caused you to twitch. you forgot he was almost painfully large. you forgot he was almost too large in you. still slow and steady, miguel miraculously slid the entirety of himself in you, causing a bump to rise; it stayed still for an moment. both you and miguel had to get used to the sudden warm and slick feeling.
he couldn’t resist it, miguel had to just graze his palms against your bulge. he even decided to push down on it. you were ashamed that you moaned loudly behind the webs, but you just had to. it made your brain melt at how much it was pleasing you. you didn't notice right away but suddenly, a few tears found their way rolling down your hot cheeks.
you didn’t know what came over you, the painful pleasure was too unbearable to handle. having miguel so full in you was so good. he repeatedly traced the bump on stomach; it wasn’t the first time this happened, but fuck, did it feel good to have it in you when you haven’t in weeks.
miguel stipples a small laugh of how sensitive you were from his touch, you were basically wrapped around his finger. he swipes the tears away and even then, he was desperate for you too, needing you as much as you needed him too.
he latches his hands around your waist and starts sliding his cock at an achingly slow pace. miguel watches as your cum covers the entirety of him, base to tip. he stares at your stomach bulge rise and fall from his large cock as well, “why don’t you look at that… tan pequeña, estás hecha para encajar conmigo,” he growls lowly in the canal of your ear, making you almost forcibly look at it. miguel was obsessed with how your stomach fit his cock so well, no matter what.
a few seconds feel like hours before miguel could fully fill you up in and out without any pain. the radiance of pleasure fills your veins as miguel speeds up his pace. he couldn’t hear you but, you were changing his name over, and over, and over. lust washed over you. it was too good. too dizzy. too cloudy.
“mi amor— you’re so— fuck— you’re so good for me,” miguel says in short breaths. he’s buried himself between the crook of your neck and face. breathing in all of your sweet scent.
miguel kept a steady pace, he was quite literally rutting himself into you, relishing the slick and hot feeling that was dwelling in your cunt. “god— i love you, y/n. this cunt is mine right? you’re just all mine, aren’t you?” miguel grunts through gritted teeth. a sheepish mhm! could only be heard against your lips.
you hated how you were bounded by your wrists and shut up by the webs at this moment. you just wanted to moan and have your hands tug at his roots. surprisingly, miguel felt exactly the same as you.
quickly ripping off the webs, your hands immediately shot up to his wavy brown hair. the ends were already beaded with sweat, along with his forehead. “fuck— miguel— i love you too— so much. fuck, fuck, fuck, i’m gonna come soon!” between shuddered breaths, you cling impossibly closer to miguel. feeling the temperature from the both of your bodies rise.
his hands frantically skittered and found the plump of your ass, gripping onto them for a leverage to slam his hips deeper into you. he got up close to your ear again, “i am too— mi amor— wanna come inside— wanna feel my cum filling you,” miguel was as pussy drunk as you can imagine. his cock in your cunt was a feeling he would never replace.
“yeah— please— come in me— want your cum, mi alma!” as his thrusts became sloppy and messy, he was seconds away from releasing himself into you. miguel wanted to make sure you feel his cum. so, he scoops you up and props your legs around his waist as his knees bend into a kneeling position. your arms found its way to wrap around his neck, this time you were the one smelling his scent. hard, deep, yet quick thrusts were bouncing in-between you and miguel. you were obsessed with each other. so much so, with one thrust up, he shoots his sticker webs deep inside you in short, hot spurts.
for awhile, both you and miguel sit there in a room filled with deep, hard breaths. he kept his cum deep inside of you, while you didn't allow a single drop leak out of you. the both of you needed to recollect yourselves. yet while basking in the heat and lust, miguel speaks after the silence, “muchas gracias, mi amor,” he says before wrapping his lips with yours.
you let go of his lips, “claro, mi alma.”
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translations! (tysm to my bsf, d <;3)
“mi alma” : “my soul,” nickname
“mi amor” : “my love,” nickname
“paciencia, mi amor. lo siento por esto, pero” : “patience, my love. i’m sorry for this, but”
“tan linda” : “so cute”
“tan pequeña, estás hecha para encajar conmigo” : “so small, you’re made to fit me”
“muchas gracias” : “thank you so much”
“claro, mi alma” : “of course, my soul”
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lin’s multifandom masterlist ♡︎
do not copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works. they are mine and they should be staying that way. any copying of my work will have you reported and blocked!
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