#Some men just want to watch the word burn

[rafesteddy]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕌𝕤 | 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚗, 𝙰 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢

𝓓𝓘𝓛𝓕!𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝔁 𝓜𝓘𝓛𝓕!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

1.4K

He’s spiraling. Two shirts on the bed, a million thoughts racing through his head, and one girl upstairs who might already own his whole heart.

c/w: language, angst, + anxiety

𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮’𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥:

The second I handed her those flowers last night and she kissed my cheek that was it. Game over. I belonged to her.

Not that I’m gonna say that out loud. Not yet anyway… That’s crazy—I… I mean. If she asked. If she felt that way too… I don’t know.

Because if she does, well… I’m—

I guess… I don’t know what I’d do if that’s the case.

It’d be her and I.

And, well…

I can’t think of anything better.

I’m standing in front of the mirror with two shirts laid out on the bed, and I still can’t figure out which one makes me look more like I didn’t try while also looking like I tried.

And her… Holy shit. She’s—Where do I even start?

She’s not like the girls back home. No fake laughs or bikini tops under linen sets. No preventative Botox at sixteen, looking for the next best thing, and a four-carat ring. Some Kook princess who’s final boss is to be bred like some bunny, arm candy with a whole football roster of boys to carry on the family name.

No. No… She’s different. She is special. And somehow that just makes everything harder.

I glance down at the watch on my wrist—polished, heavy, stupid expensive. Dad gave it to me when I graduated high school. “Wear this when you want them to know,” he said.

But I don’t want her to know. Not yet.

She doesn’t even know what Figure Eight is—doesn’t know about the yacht or the house with too many bedrooms, the country club or the island divide. Hell, she probably thinks I’m just another freshman tryin’ to scrape beer money together.

And maybe I like it that way. Because she likes me. Not Rafe with the flashy car and the bank account. Just me.

Still, I tug at the metal clasp of my Breitling, slipping the watch off like it’s burning my skin. I toss it in the drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.

“You’re actin’ like you’re gettin’ married, buddy,” Topper taunts and smirks, watching me completely unravel.

I suck my teeth and roll my eyes, messing up my hair a little in protest. “Don’t worry, Top. You and your hand will have the entire room to yourself tonight,” I shoot back, jerking off the air for good measure.

“Fuck you. I got Anna comin’ over.”

“Anna?” I ask, curious enough to get him off my back.

“Sorority girl,” he sighs blissfully. Topper nods toward the open drawer, not letting me off that easy. “‘Ditchin’ the Rolex? What are we goin’ with?’”

“It’s not a Rolex,” I mutter, which isn’t really the point.

“My apologies,” he laughs. “These aren’t the girls from home, man. You don’t gotta flex—”

“Yeah. I know,” I breathe as I shut the drawer instead of taking out the other, which is exactly what he thought I was gonna do… And I can see the wheels turning.

“You worried about her?” He asks, a little surprised.

“M’worried about a lotta shit, Top. Stop askin’ questions.”

“What?” He says, gaze narrowing. “You worried she’s after your money or some shit? Like a gold digger? Hittin’ too close to home or what—”

My stomach sinks ‘cause that dumbass nails it on the head.

Just a sliver of doubt. But it’s there.

What if my dream girl’s chasing a dream of her own? What if she doesn’t want me, not really, just the version of me that comes with a trust fund and a last name like the girls back home?

What would I mean to her if I lost it all tomorrow?

“She doesn’t know you, Rafe,” he adds, like he’s hearing my goddamn thoughts.

“I know. Thankful for that,” my words barely pass my lips.

“Gotta give her the benefit of the doubt, man. This town’s full of men with money… old men who could take care of her; ball players, doctors, lawyers—”

“Enough,” I chuckle, ‘cause he’s right—but also ‘cause the thought of that bein’ a possibility makes me physically ill.

“She’s a freshman in college. I’m not worried about her bein’ a gold digger or some shit,” I mock him. “We’re just gettin’ to know each other. It’s casual. First date shit,” I lie. And we both know it. “Don’t want her thinkin’ I’m just some douchebag frat boy whose only redeeming quality is my cash—”

“You’re also tall.”

“Fuck off,” I mumble and drop my head ‘cause I’m fuckin’ blushing. What the hell’s wrong with me? “I just met her last night—”

He snorts out of laugh and buries his face in his hands. “Fuckin’ liar, dude—”

“How?” I scoff, shooting him a look.

“You’ve been watchin’ her since day one. Be serious. Subtlety is an art and you, my friend, lack it—”

“Bullshit—��

“Bullshit? Cameron, are you fuckin’ high? Waitin’ at the window like it’s Romeo and goddamn Juliette. Gettin’ all huffy and puffy when her ex talked to her in any way you didn’t like—which was every way mind you. Jumpin’ at the first opportunity you had. Just waitin’ for your chance—”

“Shut up,” I laugh him off.

“I’d call you a stalker if I wasn’t adorable.”

“Not a fuckin’ stalker,” I mutter under my breath.

“Mhmm,” he hums, biting back a laugh.

“And a gold digger? Really?” I mutter under my breath, the thought of this girl—who took flowers from me and already looks like forever—was anything more than someone who said ‘yes.’ Who hasn’t stopped tugging at my heartstrings since the first time I heard her sigh. A sigh… A fuckin’ breath, and she had me. There’s no way this is just some casual first date.

“Jesus, dude, you’re a mess,” Topper’s voice breaks through on a breathy laugh. “Sorry I hinted at your future wife bein’ a gold digger…”

“My future wife…” I mumble as I turn away from the mirror, burying my face in the closet to dig out a sweatshirt to hide the fact that I’m blushing… yet again? She’s ruined me.

“I said what I said.”

“What did that old lady at the club say, huh? ‘There’s no such thing as gold diggers. Women are expensive. You find one in your price range and shut up.’ Even if that’s what she’s after, y’know, it’s fine—”

“She wants you for you, Rafey. Holy shit. You’re like talkin’ to a teenage girl—”

“Stop fucking talking then,” I cut him off and I’m not sure if I’m talking to Thornton or the thoughts in my head because honestly they’re both too loud.

He lifts up his hands in surrender as I grab my wallet, ducking as I walk by, slapping him on the back of the head for good measure.

The door shuts behind me and the thoughts start again, and between that and the banging of my heart in my ears I can barely breathe.

Relax, Rafe…

Stop thinking… Just stop… Just—She’s not like them.

Enough… But it’s hard to ignore the way my shoulders fall and my heart slows when I think about last night.

I mean she’s the whole package. She’s smart, funny, ridiculously pretty, sharp in a way that makes me shut up and listen.

Last night we stayed up way too late, just talking. About family. College. Dumb shit that doesn’t matter and somehow still does.

I didn’t even wanna go to sleep. Didn’t wanna leave that conversation. Don’t want anyone else having it with her but me.

And I wasn’t worried…

I didn’t think about any of that shit I thought about when I was getting ready. None of that shit even existed when she looked at me. Not when she spoke. Not when she listened like that…

She was just her.

She’s perfect.

And somehow, even with all that noise in my head, I find myself standing outside her door again.

In no better shape than I was last night, somehow deeper in the pits of my mind, wading through the sea of my anxiety with my heart in my hands.

She could be the girl I hope she’s not… She could be the girl I saw in front of me last night. She could be using me… She could be the safest, sweetest, best-thing-to-ever-be-mine kinda forever… But right now I’m over thinking it.

I’m finding a way to ruin this before I even get a chance to see her for her.

I’m taking out my trust issues on the one woman who I could very-well trust even more than myself.

I gotta stop.

She’s the start.

Knock. Knock.

I’m trying to answer the asks that are about the beginning of their relationship in a little series 💜 first date is coming soon!

@rafesthroatbaby @babygoddam @cherrywriterrr @chriscroissant @littlelamy @imakeepers-world-blog @rafesbabygirlx @bisexualcvnt @love-4-rafey-lando @slut-4-rafey @prettybabyyyy @maybankslover @rafecameronswhoore @leather-n-velvet @user25786433455 @wtfdudesblog @i-love-dilfs @tatoda @krissy455 @mymelii @angelicameron @chem1cali @missmookie @rafespeach @heyitsmewee @taliescapes @lolasangelz @cokewithcameron @k4yr14 @starkeyjoseph @daddyrafeslittleslut @leviathan0000 @luvrcndy @mrswidowjohansson @vanessa-rafesgirl @sapphiresighs @atpeacee @alexxavicry @sithapprentice @spideysimpossiblegirl @dilflover72567 @esmerai-artemis @littleshinythoughts @apricityxoxo @rafecamlovr @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @boopiesmif @st8rkey @randomdupe @mqndi1

[thatonegirlonhere]

Descendants: Stray Kingdoms p4

OT8 Stray Kids x F!Reader

Alright, the next chapter is out. Have you guys figured out who the main love interest is yet? I know some people want OT8 but I genuinely cannot figure out how I’d do that without this being a fluff story. It’d be 8 different smut scenes (which I CAN do) but after that it gets trickier bc I know yall are kinky asf but I don’t know how exactly to write you getting a train ran on you by 8 men…

So with that being said, please enjoy this slow burn with eventual Panty soaking, thigh clenching smut. And as per usual: Eat a snack, drink some water, put a towel down, and get ready to read ;)

Content warning: angst, blood, injuries

word count: ~1400

Master list

Lmk if you want to be added to my tag list ☺️

<<previous chapter||next chapter>>

MDNI 18+⚠️⚠️

The briefing room shook under the weight of your magic.

Books flew from shelves. The chandelier above flickered with unstable light. Cracks spidered across the marble floor beneath your boots.

“Calm down,” Chan said, carefully.

“I am calm,” you growled through gritted teeth.

The air around you pulsed with heat. Your magic was radiating off your skin in waves — no bracelet now to contain it, no boys to ground you. Just fear. Rage. Betrayal.

Hyunjin stepped toward you, tentative. “We’ll get them back. But you need to—”

“I felt them,” you snapped. “I felt their magic vanish. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

Your voice wavered on the edge of breaking, but your body was humming with a terrifying new strength. The kind you’d never touched before.

Hyunjin reached out. “Y/N—”

BOOM.

A table splintered against the far wall as your magic lashed out, uncontrolled.

You stumbled back, breathing hard, horrified.

Chan was already casting a containment ward, shielding the other Council members rushing in.

You turned, heart racing. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” Chan said calmly. “But you need to center yourself before we bring you anywhere near the Hollow Citadel. If your magic unravels there, it won’t stop.”

You clenched your fists. “They don’t have time.”

Chan locked eyes with you. “Then you’d better learn fast.”

⸻

Training began at dusk.

Not the usual kind. Not spells and wands and potion crap.

No.

This was bloodline magic.

The kind that came from somewhere deeper — bones, instincts, rage.

“Your magic is sentient,” Chan explained, circling you in the spell-locked chamber. “It doesn’t want to be controlled. It wants to control you.”

You stared down at your trembling hands. “What if I lose myself?”

He met your eyes.

“Then we lose everything.”

⸻

By midnight, you were covered in sweat and bruises, heart pounding from hours of brutal exercises: emotional triggers, memory digs, raw energy channeling. It was savage and cruel and perfect.

Hyunjin watched from the corner, visibly shaken by how fast you were adapting — or unraveling.

“She’s burning too fast,” he whispered. “This pace isn’t safe.”

“She doesn’t care,” Chan said grimly. “And if she wants to make it out of that Citadel alive, she can’t afford to.”

⸻

Meanwhile, in the Hollow Citadel:

Felix stared at the strange stone collar now around Han’s neck. It pulsed when he moved — draining magic, but also feeding something invisible in the room.

Han hissed as it shocked him again.

“Stop moving,” Seungmin muttered. “You’ll make it worse.”

“I like making it worse,” Han snapped, grinning like a devil. “It’s my thing.”

“Of course your trauma response is sarcasm,” Minho said, blood dripping from his temple.

Han’s eyes darted to the cell door. “They’ve stopped checking on us.”

“That’s never a good sign,” Changbin muttered.

Then—

A key.

Turning in the lock.

The door creaked open.

And in walked a figure none of them expected.

Not a guard.

Not a creature.

Not even the Fairy Godmother.

But a mirror of Y/N.

Only… wrong.

Darker. Hungrier. Radiating corrupted magic.

“Hello, boys,” said the doppelgänger.

Felix stared. “That’s not her.”

Han shivered. “No… but it’s what she could become.”

“Exactly,” the doppelgänger purred. “And when she arrives, I’ll be waiting.”

⸻

Back at the castle, you collapsed into Hyunjin’s arms, gasping.

Your body felt scorched from within, power barely leashed.

“I’m ready,” you said between ragged breaths.

“You sure?” Hyunjin asked, brushing sweaty hair from your face. “There’s no turning back after this.”

Your voice was hoarse, but certain.

“They’re mine,” you whispered. “And I’m going to burn that fucking place down to get them.”

Chan appeared in the doorway with someone beside him — tall, shadowy, with eyes like a wolf and a grin just as sharp.

“Found our portal mage,” Chan said. “Meet Minjoon.”

Minho’s older brother.

“Are we going?” you asked.

He smirked. “Darling, I’ve already opened the door.”

Behind him, a twisting obsidian portal bloomed like a black sun.

And you stepped through it.

Straight into hell.

⸻

The portal tore you apart and reassembled you again.

Not physically—no, your body remained whole. But your soul, your magic, your sense of self… they screamed as you stepped through the obsidian mouth and into the Hollow Citadel.

It was silent.

Unnaturally so.

No guards. No chains rattling. No cries from the damned.

Just… stillness.

Even your own magic flinched, crawling beneath your skin like it didn’t want to be here either.

Behind you, the portal sealed with a sickening wet sound. Final.

Chan and Hyunjin exchanged a look.

Chan handed you a glowing knife. “Don’t speak unless you have to. Don’t think unless you must. This place feeds on emotion.”

“And if I lose control?” you asked, gripping the hilt.

“Then I’m sorry,” he whispered, “but you’ll become exactly what she wants you to.”

You didn’t ask who she was.

Because you already knew.

⸻

The boys were held in a rotunda of mirrors — walls layered with ancient obsidian glass that twisted their reflections.

They didn’t just show you.

They showed your worst self.

Minho’s mirror sneered at him, dressed in blood-soaked black, a crown of knives on his head.

“You like the violence,” it whispered.

Han’s reflection smiled with fangs. “Why save them? You’re the god of the underworld, not a fucking pet.”

Seungmin refused to look up at his. “It’s not real,” he muttered, over and over.

Felix’s mirror shimmered with pale white seafoam, his voice distorted. “You gave up your voice once. You’ll do it again.”

Changbin paced like a caged animal. Jeongin sat with his head down, silent. It had been hours. Or days. Or years.

Time warped here.

Sanity didn’t last.

⸻

You reached the gates.

Two sentries made of bone and ash blocked your way. Their eyes glowed red.

“Name,” one hissed.

Chan stepped forward. “We come for the prisoners taken—”

“I wasn’t asking you.”

Its gaze flicked to you.

You straightened. Voice low.

“I’m the one you should fear,” you said.

And the ground beneath the gate cracked.

A tremor of your unleashed power raced through the stones. The sentries froze, uncertain.

You didn’t wait.

You pushed through.

And the Hollow Citadel opened for you.

Not because it welcomed you.

But because it wanted to see if it could devour you.

⸻

You walked through halls of shadow. Memories flickered on the walls like ghosts — yours, twisted and wrong.

Your mother turning away.

The boys leaving you.

The doppelgänger stepping into your life, smiling with your lips, wearing your voice.

You gritted your teeth and pressed forward.

Until you reached the Mirror Rotunda.

You stopped.

Six boys.

Six mirrors.

And one girl standing in the center, barefoot, smiling with something like pity.

Your face. But not you.

The Other You turned slowly, eyes glowing violet. Her voice was a melody wrapped in venom.

“Look at you,” she said softly. “So broken. So desperate. Did you really think you were strong enough to win without me?”

You stepped forward. “They’re not yours.”

“They were,” she purred. “Until you got soft. Until you started feeling.” She tilted her head. “What did you think would happen? That villains get happy endings?”

“I’m not a villain.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered, stepping closer. “You’re worse. You’re naive.”

With a flick of her wrist, Han dropped to his knees behind her, the collar on his throat sparking violently.

You screamed.

And the rotunda exploded.

Your magic cracked every mirror. Your scream tore the stone.

And the doppelgänger?

She grinned.

“That’s it,” she whispered. “That’s the girl I need.”

But before she could reach you—

Felix surged forward, collapsing into you with weak arms, his breath hot on your neck. “Don’t listen to her,” he rasped. “You’re ours.”

And it grounded you.

You grabbed his waist and shoved your magic into him like lifeblood — healing, anchoring, desperate. He gasped, color returning to his cheeks.

One by one, the others blinked awake, as if from a nightmare.

Jeongin clutched your wrist. “You found us.”

“I told you I would,” you whispered, voice shaking.

Behind you, the doppelgänger howled.

“You can’t keep them! You’re not strong enough!”

But you turned, rising to your full height.

And smiled.

“I don’t need to be strong.”

“They are.”

And the eight of them stood behind you, shoulder to shoulder — bruised, bloodied, broken — but yours.

TYSM for reading!!

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[chezz-art]

Congratulations fiddlestan fans!!!

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — The divorce papers had been signed that afternoon, three years of marriage reduced to legal documents and a splitting of assets… That’s how Nanami found himself at the local bar, liquid amber burning down his throat, tie loosened, the weight of his wedding ring suddenly unbearable… 

Then you walked in.

Twenty-one, maybe twenty-two. College girl written in the innocent tilt of your yellow sundress, the way it clings to your waist, your breasts, the hem flirtatiously brushing against your thighs.

You look so sweet, he thought. A drink like the ones the men were buying you would surely corrupt your pretty mouth, but you sipped with an ease that spoke of experience, even when you cringe at the taste, making the guys around you laugh. 

It made him think about his wife -his ex wife now- the last time they made love, when she bit her lips to hold back a moan, as if afraid someone might hear. He wondered what noises you would make if you were on top of him, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust up into your tight pussy. 

Would you call out his name? Moan like a whore? Would you beg him to go harder? Deeper? Or would you be shy, too embarrassed to ask for what you really wanted, forcing him to take what he wants, making you take it?

He shook his head and knocked back the rest of his whiskey, trying to clear his mind. You were far too young, far too innocent... Nanami looked away... He had no right to feel this way about a female he didn't know, a girl that had her whole life ahead of her.

You ordered something sweet and fruity while he nursed his drink, watching the way you tucked your hair behind your ear. And then, your eyes met his.

He doesn't remember buying you drinks. Doesn't remember the conversation that led to your hand on his thigh, your breath wine-sweet against his ear as you whispered, "I know somewhere quiet."

But he remembers his Lexus. God, he'll never forget the damn Lexus. 

"Fuck-" The word tears from his throat as you sink down onto him, your tight cunt splitty open around his cock like you were made for this moment. The leather seats creak beneath you both, divorce papers scattered on the floor like confetti celebrating his rebirth.

You were so goddamn young, so wet, so eager- everything his ex wife hadn't been in years, and my god... You're so fucking tight it hurts, and he's so fucking thick you can barely breathe around the stretch. Your sundress is hiked up around your waist, his hands fisted in the fabric and your hair- his wedding ring catching strands as he holds you against his body.

"You- mph - you're going to ruin me," His hips jerk up involuntarily, "aren't you?" driving deeper, and you cry out like he's hitting some spot inside of you that only a man like him can reach. He's massive- way more massive than you initially thought, thick enough that your eyes water, that your cunt burns trying to stretch around him. The head of his cock forcing your walls apart, claiming every inch as you slowly take him to the base. 

Nanami can feel you trying to adjust to his size, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each bounce as you babble incoherently- "S'too-m'fuckfuckfuck-sh'too big!!" tears leaking from your eyes, "don' ev-even know -hah - your n-name!"

His name is Nanami, but that doesn't matter... He felt how your pussy clenched at your words. You were getting off on the wrongness of the situation, just like he was. The depravity of it- this older man using your young body, his wedding ring cool against your skin. 

You don't know him, don't care who he is, and that makes this all the more exciting.

His lips crash against yours, swallowing every little noise you make as he ruts up into your heat, the windows fogging up, the car shaking with the force of his thrusts.

"S'doesn't matter," is all he says, his voice low, husky while his one hand guides your hips in a rhythm that makes his vision blur.

The condom stretches tight around him, already straining from how hard he is, how deep he's buried inside your young cunt. He can feel your orgasm building in the tremor of your thighs, the way your breath comes in desperate little gasps.

When you come, you scream. Actually scream, head thrown back like a religious experience, and your pussy clamps down so hard he sees stars. The sensation drags out his own climax, his hips lifting clean off the seat as he empties himself into the latex barrier. 

The condom swells inside you, and you whimper at the added pressure, grinding down like you want to milk every last drop from him. Your cunt spasms around the intrusion, wringing another orgasm from your oversensitive nerves.

Afterward, you collapse against his chest, both of you breathing like survivors... His wedding ring still tangled in your hair... 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It happens again a week later. Then again. And again.

Always his car. Always that same desperate hunger, like he’s trying to fuck the loneliness out of himself. You learn to take him easier, your body adapting to his size, but he never gets used to how perfectly you fit around him.

"Missed this," he groans against your neck as he bends you over in the backseat, your sundress -a different one, pink this time- bunched around your waist, pink lace panties ripped and tossed in the front seat, "Thought about you all week."

His cock twitches inside you, and the way his hands grip your waist possessively, you believe him.

You feel his breath hitch when you start to move against him, grinding your hips back against his, feeling him so deep you could choke on it, the head of his cock pressing so hard- nestled against the opening of your womb. You swear if you looked down you’d see a perfect outline of it stretching out your stomach.

With a cock-drunk smile you can't help but imagine him coming inside you, painting the deepest part of you with his seed. "Mmn, missed this, too, Nanami-san~" you gasp sweetly, the confession falling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

He wants to say more, his tongue heavy with words unspoken- "missed you", "you're beautiful", "god, I can't get enough of you"… He always wants to say more.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he fucks you like he owns you, like your young cunt exists solely for his pleasure.

He never gives you his number, never takes you anywhere but his car, and when he pulls out, the condom is always filled to the brim with his cum- stretched obscenely with your arousal coating the outside.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Three weeks later after he's fucked you stupid in his car, he asks you, "Come home with me tonight." The words are quiet, almost uncertain.

You look up at him from where you’re starting to doze off against his chest, "Your place?"

"My place." His fingers trace patterns on your bare shoulder, "Stay the night."

His apartment is exactly what you’d expected- minimalist, expensive, cold. But his bed is warm, and he fucks you properly there, taking his time to explore your body, to discover the things that made those pretty lashes flutter, those gorgeous lips moan his name., "K-Kento~♡!"

He’s so gentle, so slow, making you come so many times that by the time you finally pass out, the sheets were soaked, his cock still buried deep inside with a condom so full of cum, it nearly split at the seams.

That night Nanami watches you sleep, the way your hair fans out around your face, the little snores escaping your parted lips. He brushes a lock of hair from your cheek, a sudden ache in his chest as he sighs, "What am I doing?" This was wrong, "I'm too old for you," he mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours while gathering you in his arms, "This can't be a long-term thing…"

His voice trails off, the warmth of your body against his pulling him under.

"This can't be a long-term thing," he repeats the words in his dreams, and it sounds like a lie.

In the morning, he makes coffee and breakfast… Actual pancakes, not the instant kind from your dorm.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It becomes routine. Your toothbrush joins his, the spare pajamas in his drawer are yours, and his apartment begins to smell like flowers and the perfume you wear. He drops you off at lectures, picks you up after. Pays for textbooks without blinking. Watches you study at his kitchen table while he cooks dinner, domestic in a way that terrifies him.

Nanami even learns your coffee order at Starbucks- extra vanilla syrup, always, because you're still young and believe sweetness won't hurt you. When the barista flirts with you, his jaw tightens, the way his hand tightens around his own cup. You thought at first that it was just anger, irritation at the line, but-

"Jealous?" You ask as the two of you exit the store, sipping your drinks.

"Why would I be jealous?" He responds coolly, even though his heart is hammering. He keeps trying to tell himself that this isn't an exclusive thing, even if he does call you his pretty girl while you bounce on his cock. It isn't exclusive… even though he bought a new bed to accommodate both of you. A king sized bed, the most comfortable one in the store, because his favorite thing is watching you fall apart beneath him, above him, against him… falling asleep with your scent in his lungs, waking up to your sleepy smile…

You're free to date whoever you want… but the thought makes his stomach churn…

"Beeeecause~ the cute barista was totally hitting on me," You grin, "He even gave me his number on the napkin."

"Oh?" His tone is disinterested, but his jaw ticks, and there's something dark in his eyes when he looks at you.

"Yeah, see," You show him the napkin, and sure enough, the guy had wrote his name and phone number, and-

Nanami stops.

The napkin even has a little note scribbled at the bottom, a flirtatious one saying, Call Me Anytime Cutie ;).

And that's when Nanami snaps.

He drags you back to his car, his grip bruising, and when you look up at him with those big eyes, lashes fluttering innocently… the idea that someone else might touch you like this, might hear the noises you make when you're close, might get to see the look on your face when you come undone, and god, the way you say his name…

Fuck.

He doesn't want to share.

He's become possessive.

And that afternoon he proves it. Has you bent over the hood of his car in the parking garage, splitting you open with his cock while he growls about who you belong to. Your pussy gripping him like a vice, your juices running down the car and dripping onto the cement below as he fucks you harder than he ever has- condom threatening to split around his cock with every thrust.

"Y-Yes!!!~♡," you sob, because it's true. Because somewhere between the first time he made you come and now, you became his completely.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

One morning Nanami comes home after his run, a rare day off, and finds you sitting at his table in the kitchen, dressed only in his button-up, the one he wore to work the day before. Yout hair is still sleep mussed, your favorite mug of his in your hand, and its like his breath leaves him, his heart hammering against his ribs, because for the first time in a long time… Nanami Kento is happy.

He loves you…

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck… This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be here like this- wife like and wearing his shirt. Greeting him each night he comes home late… 

Shit…

Nanami Kento was completely and utterly in love with you.

The realization hits him like a truck, and his mouth at that moment goes dry.

As you turn to him, eyes still sleepy, he also realizes he wants to memorize this moment, to preserve it forever- the early morning sun casting a beautiful glow on your skin, the soft curve of your bare shoulder. 

"Mornin', Kento," you smile at him, and he can’t take it anymore. He can’t hide this from you any longer. 

"Come here," 

"Mm? What's up?"

"Just-" He can’t speak, not properly, so he grabs your wrist in the most gentle way he can manage and tugs you from your seat, pressing you flush against his body, his hand finding your cheek, thumb tracing your lower lip.

"K-Kento, what are y-"

"I love you."

Your eyes widen, lips parting, and for a second he’s terrified. Worried that this will change everything, and then- 

"I-I love you, too. I just-" You look away for a moment, the sweetest blush spreading across your face- your smile the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, "I just didn’t know how you would- I didn’t want to scare you away…" 

God, you could never scare him away. Never. And a part of him hated himself for ever making you feel that way. That the only reason you didn't tell him is because you thought it would drive him away. 

"I love you," he breathes again, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his forehead pressing against yours, "So much. You could never scare me away, darling."

The kiss that followed was everything he's ever wanted. Soft, sweet and loving- everything a first kiss should be, and when the two of you part, he whispers your name against your lips, as if trying to reassure himself that this was real.

That night he takes you in his arms, carrying you up to the king size bed so that he can show you just how much he loves you. To show you just how serious he is about you. 

"No condom tonight," he whispers in your ear, his arms wrapped around you, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pulls back to look at your face. 

"Mn," You nod, "Sounds fun~, but you know I’m-"

"I know… You're not on the pill," he interrupts, the corners of his mouth quirking up, "but we'll just have to deal with the consequences, won't we?"

The consequences… 

He’s never sounded so happy about anything. 

"I want to feel you," he breathes, rolling his hips, slowly, deeply, tenderly as he nudges against your entrance, "want to fill you up properly… Make you really mine," he kisses your cheek, "Make a family."

"Ahhn~♡," the moan that is drawn from your lips as his cock sinks into was music to his ears. No latex, no barrier between your bodies, just thick, bare cock spreading you open. It was indescribable- the way he filled you up, the heat of his length, every vein and ridge rubbing deliciously along the sensitive walls of your pussy. 

"God, you're perfect," he groans, and when his cock kisses your womb, his hips twitch involuntarily. The thought of his seed flooding your deepest parts was far too alluring- painting your walls white, coating the entrance of your womb, the image of your belly round and heavy with his child making his cock throb inside of you.

"Please~♡" gasping as he fills you completely- not just with his cock, but with the promise of something more permanent. 

He cums inside you that night, and every night after, marking you as his in the most intimate way possible. 

This started with divorce papers and whiskey, but it had become something else entirely. Something that tastes like forever and feels like coming home.

Prt 2. │˚₊‧꒰ა. 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[screampied]

‘ SHE’S A VERY KINKY GIRLLL ?! ★

geto, toji, choso, gojo, nanami, sukuna. jjk men finding out your nasty little kinks

cw. fem! reader, unprotected, size kink, spıt, daddy kink, hair pulling, shibari, premature ejaculatıon, first time squırt, size differences, dirty talk, praise, brēeding, blindfolds, spānking, overstim, phone sēx.

wc. 4.8k

☆ NANAMI KENTO + hair pulling.

“you’re gonna get me fired, sweetheart,” nanami jokes, a dry laugh following his words. he had you right where you wanted - bent over, arched right over his work desk like some slut. not that you minded, you were needy. the rumbles of the old wooden desk continues to scream out creaks and creaks until it sounds like a broken record. nanami’s belt buckle occasionally rubs against your skin, the repetitive clanks it makes on your flesh has you throbbing for more. “oh my, such a nasty girl. ‘s this what you wanted? for me ‘ta stop what ‘m doin’ to give you a little more attention?”

“y- yes, ‘ken,” you whine, not even caring that your was face was practically being shoved into his unkempt pile of documents. as your cunt’s being stretched open by the size of his twitching shaft, your lips part into a circular open shape. “mmf,” and you pause, feeling a familiar calloused hand grab onto the back of your head. a tiny yank suffices and your pussy pulses almost immediately from the pull. nanami felt it, and so did you. “do .. do that again, kento. please.”

with a low, timbre chuckle, his hips come to a sudden halt. “oh,” he mutters, and he’s a bit more amused at your sudden arousal. gentle fingers skim near your waist, another focusing on the crown of your head before he hums. “do what again, my sweet? pull your hair?” and you whine once more as those silk words pour from his lips like dripping honey. you were desperate, grinding back your ass against him in carnal want. with a soft smile, he gives your hair a more tugging yank before starting up again. “why of course. anything for the kinky wife, hm?”

nanami was balls fucking deep, every time he’d deepen and piston his strokes with his hips, your moans only get louder. he’s so thorough too, not missing a single spot with his cock that’s simply rummaging through your goopy insides. “k- kennn,” you whine, hearing his breathing significantly pick up from behind you. raspy, gruff pants from nanami bellow out from his raw vocal chords. it’s sexy, every few seconds he’d take a glance at his watch to check the time. you were gonna get him in trouble. “harder, mhm. h- harder.”

nanami smiles, and he’s so stuffed inside of you that he’s molding a little bulging mark that’s all due to the size of his thick cock. “make up your mind, my love,” he mutters in a low voice—beads of sweat racing down each sides of his face. his irregular pants doesn’t become unnoticed, and the grip against your hair tightens to your liking. “hey, goin’ somewhere? don’t run, gorgeous. you want me to pull so ‘m gonna pull.”

and you moan, feeling the elastic stretch of his girth blowing a fuse through your cunt. he finds the way you try to crawl forward from his dick, but only grabs you right back. it feels good, you’re shivering and not just from his touch. already, your knees start to weaken and buckle as he’s got you hunched over his desk, staring face first into various piles of papers he was supposed to be signing. instead, he was buried deep into your needy cunt, making it cry out squelches over and over on repeat.

“m gonna c- cum,” you babble out, although you weren’t even sure if that’s what the build up pressure was. as you clench down on your jaw, it’s something else. your breathing becomes a bit more pitched and you whine, fisting a ball within your hand, knuckles burning a single color. “kento, kento f- fuckkk. ‘s gonna come out.”

“make a mess, don’t be shy.” he gets right up close against your ear, his grip being a bit more secure.

your head tosses itself back and he flashes you a warm grin, lust and desire all in his mahogany brown eyes. “atta girl,” he purrs once he sees the white form in your eyes, you’re rolling them back toward the outer sockets until you’re not even seeing color anymore. succumbing and falling into the blissful pleasure, you gush out. nanami pauses, his cock’s remaining to tuck itself into your sobbing cunt before your orgasm finally shrieks out your throat. “there it is,” he brings a kiss toward the nape of your neck. you twitch, your body sending itself a wave of convulsing jitters as you’re coming undone on his dick.

the room suddenly feels hot, or maybe it was just you. nanami blinks twice, feeling your pussy continue to release itself for a few moments before he peers down. with a soft grin, he furrows a brow as a thumb bedaubs a long stripe down your soddened slick opening.

“did you just .. squirt on me, sweetheart?” and there’s a bit of wry humor in his voice. with a hand still raking against your head, his thumb still collects a swab of your filthy slick before he pops the same finger into his mouth. sliding his tongue around to savor your taste, he hums. “you did.”

☆ GETO SUGURU + phone sex.

i touch myself just thinkin’ about you.

geto always knew you had a thing for listening to his voice. you ended up 'accidentally' letting him know of your little kink and he now calls you every time he’s away. he’s a busy man, but that doesn’t mean he’ll never make time for his pretty baby. with two crumped up fingers curling inside of your weeping cunt, you dial his number by heart.

on the second ring he answers in a sly, “hey girl.”

maybe you were a little dramatic, but the abrupt twitch that ghosts against your exposed pussy makes you whine. a raspy chuckle breaks through the phone speaker and it’s a bit staticky. “sugu,” you pant, and you were already so close. so so close to your inevitable, incoming release. through short millisecond heaving breaths, you speak in a needy voice. “i miss you.”

“i miss you more, baby,” he whispers, and you can hear his heavy pants through the other line. “fuck,” he murmurs, purposely growing silent to hear the slippery slick sloshes of your responsible cunt in the background. “don’t tell me you’re playing with her when ‘m not here, aw.”

you dip your two fingers inside of your pussy, coating the entirety of your digits with your moist before pouting. putting the phone on speaker, you slouch. “s- sorry, you’ve been fightin’ all day ‘n i was just imagining my fingers were yours.”

“you were, yeah?” a low voice replies, and you can hear how his voice pitches deeper. it’s low, your throbbing only intensifies and you bite your lip. as you multitask, occupying your hand by holding the phone, another with fingers burying itself into your cunt, you sigh. “mhm, baby’s all out of fuckin’ breath. you close?”

“y- yesss,” you start to babble, feeling a wave of crashing shockwaves pulse through your clit. the shock of it all was electrifying - surging all through you. your eyes flick back for a bit until you’re seeing splashes of obsidian black. “keep talkin’ to me suguru, please. your voice ‘s gonna make me cum.”

he stays quiet for a few seconds before purring in a seductive voice. “oh baby,” and his pants against the line was enough to make your legs give out. your pathetic little fingers could never compare to geto’s. his was far thicker and longer, easily stretching out your cunt with just a few thrusts. you could almost drool from imagining him easing your tight walls with his two beloved digits. whether it was his dick, fingers, or even his long slick tongue, he knew how to make you feral.

“silly girl, you there? i said you can cum.”

“o- oh, sorry,” you whine, snapping out of your short fantasm. and with your fingers still shoved into your wet opening, you lean back against the cushioned mattress behind you. “s- suguruuu,” you whimper, hearing his candied sweet praises in the background. he’s telling you all the right words and you could tell he was probably touching himself from the few subtle grunts that would escape from his lips every few pausing seconds. the moment you come undone, it’s short and quick. it’s within a quick as a blink of an eye, one minute you’re whining and the next you’re covering your two slender digits with sprays of your juices. “ngh, fuck s- suguru.”

he snickers to himself, even his laugh was attractive on its own — it's husky, it turns you on a lot more than you thought it did. as you’re trying to calm down from your most recent release, geto hums into the phone. “god i wish i was with you right now. wanna see the mess you fuckin’ made,” and as he pauses to breathe, geto groans. “i already know you’re on my side of the bed too, messy girl.”

“y- yeah,” you murmur with a sheepish smile.

sucking his teeth, geto has a cunning grin forming on his lips before he responds. “ah, such a brat. but y’know what you can do for me until i get home, baby?” and once you respond a sweet ‘what’, geto speaks huskily. “put those fingers in your mouth ‘n your mouth ‘n send me a pic of it.”

“can you send me a audio of you whining though?” you plead, still panting.

as he tchs at your little question. geto eye rolls, secretly loving how you always wanted something in return. “yeah. but don’t blame me if ‘s like twenty minutes long though.”

☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN + shibari.

you were sukuna ryomen’s favorite,

the minute you bring up wanting to try shibari with him, something lights up within him. oh, he’s adored shibari for centuries. eons. loving nothing more than to tie his precious lover up and have his way with them. so when you tell him you grew a special liking to it, he just had to indulge in your fantasies.

“tell me if it’s too tight, little one,” he purrs, his voice as rough as ever. you felt the brief tightening of the ropes around your body, securing your weight as you dangle near his chambered walls. your nude body’s like art to him. an empty canvas he’d soon fill with his own type of paint. you give him a nod, gasping once he restrains you in a way so that your legs sprawl widely open for him. “hmmm,” he groans, getting right behind you.

his growl sends you shivers, your cunt’s sopping wet and he brings a hand to feel against your body. sukuna’s touch itself was hypnotic.

“you’re already soaked, how amusing,” and judging from the devilish rasp in his tone, he sounds offended. leaning up against your ear, he dips a single finger inside. “tell me, did these filthy fingers touch her while i was away?”

“n- no,” you mumble, the soft padded strokes of his fingertips making your head throw itself back. he was right behind you, you were hanging with the safe gripping of ropes securing your thighs open before you moan. “didn’t touch myself all day, ‘kuna. waited for you to c- come back.”

“don’t like when my girl lies,” he snarls, and you moan again once he gifts the entrance of your cunt a mean smack. it’s rude—the way his palm hits against your folds causes the very center of his hand to get coated with your wetness. he’d be lying himself if he said that didn’t turn him on. in fact, with the attention he’s giving your pussy, it’s making his dick twitch beneath the expensive homemade fabric of his royal kimono. “ugh, gettin’ me hard,” and he pauses before another finger delves inside. you’re whining, feeling how easily he stretches your opening up with two solid digits. as your legs remain to spread, his eyes flicker toward the rope that’s got a nice grip against your breasts. “mhm, such a pretty body though. would be a shame to edge ya right now.”

“s- sukuna,” you whimper, leaning furthermore into his touch. a curling of your toes starts to make an appearance before he swirls both fingers in and out of your pussy. he’s so deep, a long dragging meal dies from your throat rawly before you’re already being pulled into a teetering orgasmic edge. “fuck, ‘s good. your fingers- please don’t s- stop.”

“quiet, princess,” he warns you, you throb from the mature authority in his voice. with his fingers getting lost into the deep never-ending exits of your cunt, you squelch all around his fingers. scarlet, ruby eyes stare at your exposed body and a long forked tongue licks against his lips. “keh, imaginin’ you touch my pussy ‘s almost laughable,” and your jaw hangs itself down the moment his lengthy digits locate your g-spot. it doesn’t take him long at all. with a sly smile compressing against his lips, sukuna brings a kiss toward your neck. “oh, you’re so predictable. you want me to tie you up but you have the audacity to touch yourself. ‘n ya can’t even do it right at that, you poor thing.”

his words did something to you — it wasn’t pity, no, it was more of him teasing you. maybe a sprinkle of humility, but either way, you throbbed from it regardless. and yet, the last thing you expect is for the demon to get right in front of you, leveling his head down toward your open legs before licking against your sweet cunt. “s- sukuna,” you whine, and your first instinct was to grab onto his hair for support. but then it dawned on you. you couldn’t, you were tied up. damn it all.

you’re shivering from his flat tongue. he’s like a cat, giving it a few subtle sloppy licks. the texture of his forked tongue makes you shudder before he pulls his mouth back. that’s all he’d give you for now. “mhm,” he grumbles, pressing a thumb against your pulsating twitching muscle. once he sees your pout, he chuckles. “oh, do you want me to continue?” and you nod, desperate for his tongue to go back to its place. “very well.”

and sukuna brings a sharp blackened fingernail towards your folds, gently grazing it near your nub before a tongue slowly slithers its way over his lips. you gulp, meeting eye contact with the king of curses.

and now, he knew what his brand new meal was.

☆ GOJO SATORU + blindfolds.

“thaaaat’s.. kinda kinky, gojo flashes a coy grin, carefully tying his blindfold around your eyes. once he secures a little knot near the back, he hums in amusement. “but okay. jus’ lie back, angel. ‘m gonna take good care of my girls.”

his ‘girls’ being his most precious beings which was—

you, what’s between your legs, and of course, your tits too.

but with those, he’d tend to them another day. right now, he was focused on you from behind. as his weight’s directly pressed up against you, he smears his leaky tip against your entrance with one hand. “easy, good girl. jus’ feel, let ‘toru the talkin’ angel,” and his body heat was so hot against yours. you pout from his teasing because he’s not even fucking you yet - but he just wants to toy with you for a bit. as his blindfold’s tied over your eyes, he makes your wrists pin behind your back. “so pretty like this.”

“s- satoru,” you frown and once he makes your back arch, you slump forward. gojo grabs a hand full of your ass before squeezing it. with a spank, it recoils against your skin before he’s sinking his way into your drenched cunt. “mhm,” you bite your lip, and the tremendous shaking starts. he’s thin, his cock was even thinner, but the fat girth solely makes up for it. with a gasping whine and your mouth becoming ajar, he’s splitting you open. it doesn’t take long before he’s bottoming out, getting you in nothing more but a prone bone position. “fuck me, f- fuck meee.”

“m tryin’ to,” he huffs, groaning at the way his peeling foreskin sinks its way into your clingy cunt. your grip was so good that it makes it fall back effortlessly. but fuck, he’s already about to cum. one pump champ satoru, he talks a big game for someone who can barely last sometimes. it’s been a while and he didn’t expect for you to feel so good. “s- shit.”

gojo grunts, swollen fat shaft making an attempt to bully its way into your walls. you’re still facing forward, your vision replaced with nothing but pitch darkness before you whine in rapture. he grabs onto your neglected tits, playing with your nipples with the hot tips of his thumbs, and that’s when he starts humping against you. it’s sloppy slow thrusts, grinding his rotating hips against your core as he’s trying to start up a pace but the sensation creeps up against him. “oh, f- fuckkk,” he groans lowly, snowy brows contorting together in pleasure. you’re sucking him in so good, swallowing him whole with your pussy it’s almost embarrassing. as your stomach caves in, you start to pant. chasing your breath ridiculously as if it was a marathon race—gojo was mirroring your actions. it was cute,

your body underneath him continues to jolt before his hand finds its way around your throat, wrapping around like a snake. a thumb caresses the tiny hairs that stand up against your neck before he spanks you.

again, and again and again,

“f-fuck, gonna make me cum. slutty little— hngh.”

right as he’s speaking, gojo spurts out a few droplets of cum, and it turns into a whole bucket. his teeth was shattering, jaw lowering itself open as he’s giving you a nice amount of warm, seasoned cum. it was raunchy, you’re struggling to stay still yourself as your arms could barely hold up your twitching body. your cunt was squelching for all of him and only him, puckering hole just aching to be filled that your tongue stupidly lolls itself out for a few seconds. you still can’t see, yet you can feel everything.

“s- sato—”

“be quiet, wanna listen,” he whines, lightly shoving your head into the mattress. with an oof, your head goes into the pillow as he’s dumping such loads of raw cum right into your welcoming hole. it’s a lot, it’s got him drooling all down your neck, he hates finishing early but he couldn’t help it. gojo’s shaking just as much as you are, pink lips of his press together as he stares at himself pumping you full. with a greedy pout, he flips you over abruptly and snatches his blindfold off you.

still feeling his slimy ropes of cum pour out your pussy and alongside toward the edges of your thighs, you meet his hungry gaze and he’s so needy for more. spreading open your legs, he gets a single taste of his own seed before nibbling against your cunt. “hold still. i- i need to clean you. let me eat, ‘m fuckin’ starved.”

☆ CHOSO KAMO + breeding.

“give me a baby, ‘cho.”

once those sweet five words come from your lips, his eyes widen. leering into them, all you could see was pure lust.

choso was always aware about your breeding kink, how you loved to milk his cock over and over and over again.

and despite knowing he’s infertile - a mere half curse half human being, chances were that he probably wouldn’t even able to give you what you really wanted. except, you liked to pretend. and besides, thanks to you—he started to develop a little breeding kink of his own.

“a b- baby,” he repeats, his words in the mere form of a sweetened question mark. choso’s got you laid on your back, stuffing your cunt full of cock before he pauses. with a thumb stroking your cheek, he has a timid smile. “how many do you want this time, princess?”

playing along, you hum to yourself— throwing your arms over his shoulders. “hmm, let’s try for triplets this time,” and you bring him toward you, planting a kiss against his forehead before feeling his dick twitch inside of your cunt. “can you do that for me baby? leave me full like last time?”

“yeah,” he nods, admiration sparkling in his eyes. the more he stared into your blown, doe irises, the more he falls in love. in love with love, in love with you. choso’s rough hands meet yours, intertwining with your fingers as they tangle with might before he starts up again. “m- mhm, i can do that. i can .. i can give you triplets, promise.”

he was so determined, he didn’t wanna disappoint.

choso’s pace was simply relentless. despite how sweet and tender he was, his rhythmic hips that struck deeply into your core was an entire different story. as bodies move and dance against each other in harmony, you whine against his ear. rough yet sweet yet passionate. “like that, choso. f- fuck, right there baby. don’t miss, p- please.”

your voice were so close up to his earlobe that he could hear the warmth of your breath cascading down from your lips. oh, you sounded like an angel. so harmonic and blissful. it makes his dick throb whilst it’s still plummeting in and out of your insides. skin against skin, it mercilessly slaps against each other, pap and papping away so roughly that it makes your toes curl. “promise, ‘m not gonna miss. gonna g- give you so much, ‘s gonna pour out so much, baby,” and he was even more whinier than you. with breaths of his own leaving out of his filled up lungs, he squeezes against your sprawled out thigh. “ugh, you’re so warm. ‘m not gonna last this time i think. o- oh.”

the thrashing crown of his cock extends inside of your walls and he leans in to kiss you. once, then twice, then thrice. choso’s lips were sweet like candy, as he’s rutting into you — your gummy walls gripping onto him tightly, it starts to pour into you in tiny volumes. it’s so thick, it’s so much that he starts to drool into your mouth. choso slows down as a wadding knot dribbles its way into your welcoming cunt. he whimpers as your lips mash against his, sucking against his tongue. “s- so much, so much to give you, pretty,” he babbles, breaking away from your lips a bit.

you pant right along with him, he goes back to holding your hand, giving it a firm squeeze before his eyes turn hooded. sable drawn pupils never leaves yours, and his cheeks flush with adorable heat. “that’s it baby, jus’ let go ‘n fill me up okay?”

as he’s growing quiet, listening to the sloppy tune between your legs pitch louder, he groans. piles and piles of cum pour into your cunt. it’s so much that it’s not even humanly possible to take it all. so it spills out, right between the crevices of your thighs. it’s insanely gooey, choso stares at it and he’s got the most smug cute grin, knowing he did that. it’s warm and sticky. his ears ring all at once as his tip’s still emitting such ropes of velvety seed into your entrance. “mhm, baby. you always t- take it so well.” he huffs, feeling the weight of his chest deflating. you remain still, laid against the bed frame as he’s just basking in your gorgeous sight. you looked like an angel to him. no, you were an angel, especially with how you were always so cute whenever he came inside. you were moaning just as much as him, eyebrows furrowing and mouth shaped wide and open, so so pretty.

with a huffing sigh, you wrap your arms around him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “thank y- you, ‘cho. feels so good.”

“should be thanking you,” he murmurs, his voice a bit more deep and raspy. as he’s still positioned between your legs, choso grabs your palm, giving it a sweet kiss. mwah after mwah, the texture of his lips couldn’t have been even more warmer. you were so full of cum that you couldn’t even move. you just stayed there, staring deep into his eyes before he whispers against your ear. “marry me, p- please. wanna give you quadruplets next time, baby. be my wifey.”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO + daddy kink.

“tch. can never work out without you givin’ me some shit,” he groans as your hips picks up its pace briskly.

toji, being nothing but the usual of covered in perspiring sweat, wears a simple white tee with basketball shorts. lazily, he slouches back against the bench. scheming green eyes peer at your twitching body and your sloppy cunt makes him gnaw on his lip. a big hand, calloused and all squeezes against the fat of your ass. the curvature, he acknowledges every little angle before tracing his fingers alongside your hips. “ya didn’t miss me, you missed dick, huh?”

“i.. i did miss you, toji,” you lie through your teeth, feeling the milky ring around his base stick against your rear. just a few moments ago, he’d just gotten done pumping a load into you. with toji, it was always a lot. he never half assed anything. you’ve been riding him for so long you were surprised your legs didn’t up and give out. collapsing and buckling from his fat cock. “i- missed you s’much, daddy.”

it was an abrupt pause — the silence was strikingly deadly.

a thin brow of his quirks up in amusement before he brings your hips to a sudden stop. you whine, seeing the stretching smirk grow against his face. the scar slashed near the right side of his lips curls in gladden before he grabs your chin. “missed who?”

“missed you, toj-”

“girl don’t fuckin’ play with me,” he side eyes you, gingery peeling your bottom lip down with his thumb. he inches his face closer, and you could smell the intoxicating whiskey on his breath. “who’d you miss? repeat that, y’know ‘m losin’ hearin’ in my right ear, heh.”

he was so sassy, you wanted to roll your eyes but you couldn’t even bother with how stuffed your cunt was. the stretch, another whine was about to rip straight from your throat before you lean into his touch. speaking shyly, you moan as he spanks your ass for you to hurry up. “missed you, daddy,” and the moment toji starts to bounce his thigh, your breathing starts to pick up. the friction has you weak, his jade, verdant eyes staring into your soul. “missed you all day.”

“mhm, y’er a weirdo,” he snickers, feeling his dick throb within you once you call him that. with his muscles flexing idly, you get the urge to touch all around them. so you do, running a hand up his burly biceps before he grabs your wrist. “no touchin’ daddy, gotta say please first. we talked about this, babygirl.”

hearing him address himself as your little kink makes your cunt twitch. as you try to create a bit a movement with your hips, he spanks your ass once more, baring a fang slyly at the gripping fat that recoils from his palm. “t- toji,” and he smacks your ass again, giving you a raising brow. “i mean daddy, can- can i c..cum, please?”

“hnnn,” he grunts lowly, his voice a mere vibration of itself. with the way his tone was so deep, it was raw and scratchy. throaty, he’s still buried into you and your cunt’s still deliriously sobbing for more. you just wanted to move, your arms sling around his broad shoulders before you whimper into his ear. “wanna cum on daddy, eh,” and your eager nod against his chest makes him chortle. you were so eager, entirely so — as you try to create haste, he rolls his eyes. “fine, give it to me.”

and the moment he complies to your desperate wants, you came, giving into your lewd pleasure with the cutest moan leaving your throat. you’re shaking within his hold, two rough hands sliding down your waist as he rests a chin against your neck.

“good, good girl,” he murmurs, cold voice still booming near your lobe. you’re so wet, unapologetically damping his lap with your slick as your hips buck forward. yet, toji wasn’t exactly done. with two thickset hands, he lifts you up before lightly shoving you on the bed, having you lie flat on your bare chest. “nah, don’t get up. stay there,” and his words sent a plethora of butterflies straight toward your pussy. toji takes a moment to stare at your drooling cunt from the back, stopping himself from getting a taste right then and there before he smears his tip against your opening, preparing to go in raw. “shit,” he groans, the left side of your face sinking into the cushioned mattress. as your whines ring and reverb through the thin walls, he lifts your ass right up against him. “arch for me, girl. daddy’s ‘bout ‘ta make ya a mommy, heh.”

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

cw - yandere behavior, choso doing perverted stuff, bondage, problematic behaviors, smut, mdni, not proofread

imagining you and sick pervert!choso being roommates in an apartment together.

sick pervert!choso doesn’t like when you leave the apartment. he has some form of separation anxiety when it comes to you, but actually, he just loathes the idea that other people are getting to see you when he can’t.

sick pervert!choso who sets a curfew for you to help “ease his worries”. you agree because you like the fact that someone is watching out for you.

sick pervert!choso who ties you up to his bed when you break curfew one night. he doesn’t even touch you inappropriately. he just keeps you right where you belong: in his room.

sick pervert!choso who coos sweet condescending words to you while you’re tied up in his bed. “you know why i had to tie you up, don’t you?” you swallow thickly and nod your head. your eyes are glassed over from tears and the alcohol you had consumed earlier in the night.

sick pervert!choso who assures you that he forgives you for staying out past curfew. “it’s okay, baby. don’t cry. i just needed you to stay here with me for a little while, okay?”

sick pervert!choso who keeps you tied up until the next morning. he only unties you to lead you to the bathroom. he cares for you so tenderly as you shower and brush your teeth, but it’s right back to being tied down to the bed after your little break.

sick pervert!choso who admires you while you sleep. he loves how soft and vulnerable you look. it makes his dick twitch in his boxers, and he doesn’t understand why. he just knows he has to take his own bathroom break now.

sick pervert!choso who finally lets you go after a full day of being tied up, but he gives you big puppy dog eyes the moment you try to go to your own room, so of course, you sit with him and let him kiss the rope burns on your wrists.

sick pervert!choso who has a love/hate relationship with your job. he hates the fact that he has to share you with your job, and he hates that other men get to look at you while you work. what if they start getting the idea that they actually have a chance with you? then, choso will have to kick their teeth in :(

sick pervert!choso who also loves the time you’re gone sometimes because that’s when he gets to go shopping in your room! he breaks in, and he only steals a few things… like your used panties.

sick pervert!choso who will spray your perfume against his pillows while your gone. he will have a pillow with your perfume shoved against his nose while he chokes his throbbing cock with your panties.

sick pervert!choso who makes it a mission to fuck all of your used panties, leaving behind globs of cum in the crotch portion as he cries out your name however loud he wants to because you’re at your stupid job.

sick pervert!choso who noticed you’re taking far too long at work one evening. he’s blown up your phone with texts, and he finally checks the apple tag on your car that he accidentally left behind between the seats. you’re at a bar… without notifying him first.

sick pervert!choso who paces around the apartment all night, debating on just showing up at the bar, but he knows you’ll be upset with him for stalking you. his heart leaps into his throat as he hears the door open up.

sick pervert!choso has your back pressed against the door in record time. his nose is buried in your neck and shoulder as he’s trying to smell for anyone else’s scent on you. “where were you, baby? i was worried…”

“my boss brought us all out for drinks since we hit a big deadline, chocho. i’m sorry. my phone died.” you say as you rub his back, trying to soothe him from how tore up he was.

sick pervert!choso who leads you up to his room anyways to tie you up. you should’ve known better than to keep him worried and waiting like this! now he’s all pent up with too much possessive energy… he needs to see you bound to his bed to ease his anxiety.

sick pervert!choso forgot to hide the evidence of his activities all day. a few pairs of your panties are scattered around the floor, and he immediately tries to do damage control, but it’s too late. you already saw them.

“chocho, is this why my panties always go missing?” you ask as you pick up your favorite white cotton pair. you hold up the pair for him to stare at it with guilt in his eyes.

“i try to always return them!” he says with a small pout. “they smell like you. it helps me…”

sick pervert!choso who’s terrified that you’re going to give him a look of disgust. he knows that you’re going to hate him forever for being so sick and demented. he doesn’t want to have to, but he will drug you to keep you here with him. he loves that you stay willingly, but he’ll do whatever he has to do to keep you by his side.

“you do this while i’m at work?” you ask slowly. choso can’t see an ounce of disgust in your face.. only curiosity and something he can’t quite put his finger on.

after gathering his confidence, he finally nods his head, “and sometimes while you’re asleep…”

sick pervert!choso who’s awe struck when he watches you slide your panties out from underneath that sinful pencil skirt you wear to work. he’s nearly drooling out of his mouth as he looks at the pink lacy fabric.

“you want them?” you coax, and he’s quick to nod. the thought of being able to feel and smell them while they’re still fresh and warm… he’s about to cum in his pants from the thought.

“i’ll give them to you if you agree not to tie me up tonight,” you bargain with a knowing smile. “i also want to watch,”

holy shit. sick pervert!choso’s heart is hammering through his chest. this is like a fantasy come true. he reaches out and takes the panties from you, and he’s quick to hold them over his nose.

he groans and palms his throbbing dick through his pants as your scent fills his nose. he takes another deep breath, committing the scent of your pussy to his memory. he’s never experienced anything this divine in his life.

you sit on his computer chair as you watch your roommate fall apart over a simple pair of your panties.

you cross your legs together, watching as choso’s eyes are resting on you. he pulls out his massive cock, and be strangles the lacy pink fabric over it. he then slowly wraps his hand around the pace, and he fucks himself into your panties.

it’s truly a sight for sore eyes. choso’s leaned against his bed, whining and whimpering pathetically as he claims your panties again and again. he wishes he could shove the pillow over his nose, but then, that would block his perfect view of you.

sick pervert!choso would’ve never expected for his sweet roommate to react the way you do to the sight of him fisting his cock with your panties.

“fuck,” he growls, and he pumps his dick faster. the fabric is becoming slick with his own pre-cum. “you want me to mark your panties like this, baby?” he asks, managing to dirty talk you without stuttering or whimpering.

“yes,” you barely whisper. you’re so caught up in the sight of him — you almost forgot to reply to him.

his hips start to raise with each pump, and he feels himself getting close. he grips his cock tighter, imagining it was you gripping him like a vice while he fucks your tight pussy until you forget your own name.

a moment later, he groans as he quickly aims his cock, and he cums all over the crotch of your panties. rope after rope of his cum cover the pink fabric until it’s a sticky mess.

he pants as he looks over at you, and his heart is elated by the fact that you look just as desperate as he feels.

sick pervert!choso knows he could he making a mistake, but he takes a leap of faith based off your facial expression. “put them on,” he roughly demands, holding out your freshly ruined panties to you.

your eyes widen, and you look up at him with a little bit of uncertainty. however, you know you two are on a path of depravity now that you watched him claim your panties. you slowly take the panties from him, and you carefully slide them up your legs.

a moan escapes your lips as you feel his warm arousal press against you. it’s sticky and wet. it’s slightly uncomfortable, yet you’ve never been more turned on in your life. it was like a raw act of deprivation as you wore your panties that he had soiled.

“you like that, baby?” he asks, and he can’t help the small tremble in his voice. he desperately wants you to like it as much as he likes it. he’s enamored by the sight of your thighs clenching together. he might just make you wear the panties for the rest of the night.

you nod shyly with a small hum.

sick pervert!choso who never knew his roommate was a secret deviant freak until he watched you sit in panties filled with his cum all night long.

sick pervert!choso who falls even more in love with you after feeling so raw and close to you, and he has no idea that you have plans to ask him to use your panties while you’re wearing them next time <3

[tokkiwrites]

Hi happy holidays! Can you please do a Sergei kravinoff smut x innocent female virgin reader “babe in the woods” trope. Sergei is immediately fixated on reader and wants her to be his grude & mother of his children. He immediately marries and later takes her virginity. He hopes to impregnate her from their first time together. Ty!

thank you for this request, anon! and sorry it took so long to post. I've had it written, but it just took a while for me to get the smut part going. i hope you like it!

Sergei Kravinoff × F!Reader ♰ themes of stalking, obsessive Sergei, kidnapping, Kraven is a weirdo and needs to be locked up, i would say innocent reader but more so an unbothered reader kind of, she is just confused, forced marriage, themes of Stockholm syndrome, loss of virginity, fingering (reader receiving), afab reader, unprotected p in v, Sergei wants to get the reader pregnant.

The woods were quiet, save for the whisper of wind threading through the branches above. You loved this time of day when the sun filtered gold and green through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the earth. It was your sanctuary, far from the clamor of town and the heavy, watchful eyes of others. Here, no one could accuse you of being strange, or sheltered, or too naive. You simply were.

The faint crack of a branch made you stop mid-step, your basket of wildflowers swinging lightly at your hip. “Hello?” You called, voice soft, hesitant. The forest had always been safe— or so it felt. until now, you had never had the need to question it.

He emerged from the shadows, and your breath caught. The man was massive. A towering figure, his broad shoulders draped in animal pelts and his chest bare save for the crisscrossing scars that marked him as something primal, dangerous. His face was angular, carved from stone, with piercing eyes that pinned you where you stood.

Sergei Kravinoff. The name would mean nothing to you, but to others, it struck fear—a hunter of men and beasts, a predator who bent the wilderness to his will. He did not speak at first. He only looked at you, as if you were some rare, delicate creature he had stumbled upon. The longer his eyes lingered, the hotter your cheeks burned.

“Who are you?” you asked, clutching the basket to your chest. His lips curved into a smile, though there was nothing warm in it. “I am Sergei,” he said, his voice low, thick with an accent you couldn’t place. “And you" he paused for a bit. " Should not wander alone in places like this. The world is not kind to lambs.” You blinked at him, confused. “Lambs?”

“You,” he clarified, taking a step closer. His sheer presence seemed to draw the air from your lungs. “Soft. Untouched. So trusting.” You took an instinctive step back, and his smile widened, as if he enjoyed your unease. “I—I’ve never seen you here before. Are you lost?”

“No,” he said simply, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. “But perhaps I have found something worth staying for.”

It reeked of dangerㅡ death. yet you still came back.

Over the next week, you saw him again and again. Always in the woods, always watching. At first, you told yourself it was a coincidence. this strange man simply shared your love for the forest. But his presence became impossible to ignore. He never tried to speak much, yet his eyes seemed to devour you every time, as though he were committing every detail of your face to memory. You should have been afraid. You should have stopped going to the woods entirely. But something about him fascinated you. He was so unlike the boys in town, who stammered and avoided your gaze, intimidated by your quietness. Sergei was bold, unflinching. He seemed to look right through you, to the parts of yourself you didn’t even understand.

you little lamb.

“Why do you keep following me?” He tilted his head, his gaze softening though not entirely. “Because you are mine.” The bluntness of his words made your breath hitch. “I don’t even know you.”

“You will,” he said, stepping closer. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and though you should have flinched away, you didn’t. His touch was surprisingly gentle, reverent even, even if his rough fingers scratched your skin. “I have decided. You will be my bride.”

“Bride?” You echoed the word foreign and strange on your tongue. “But we’ve only just—” you laughed. surely it must be a joke. “You are meant for me, little lamb” he interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “I have hunted all my life, little one. I know when I have found my prize.” Suddenly, the world went dark.

maybe it was all just a bad and confusing dream. though his touch still lingered.

You woke in the morning to find yourself not in your small, familiar room. outside the window that overlooked the bed you were in, the forest. The air smelled of pine and smoke, and outside, the trees loomed tall and unyielding. Panic gripped you as you sat up, heart racing. “Where—” The door creaked open, and there he was, filling the frame with his imposing presence. “You are awake,” Sergei said, his tone calm, almost pleasedㅡ excited. He carried a tray with food: fresh berries, bread, and cheese. “Eat. Now."

“Where am I?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Why did you—” He set the tray down, cutting you off with a look. “You are safe. That is all you need to know.”

“I am not! This isn’t right,” you said, tears pricking at your eyes. “You can’t just—”

“I can,” he said sharply, though his expression softened as he stepped closer. “I have waited long enough. You do not understand, but you will. I will take care of you. Protect you. You will want for nothing, my little one.”

You shook your head, backing away from him, but he caught your wrist with startling ease. His touch was firm, yet not cruel. “Do not fear me,” he murmured, his voice dropping to something almost tender. “I would never hurt you. You are too precious.”

Sergei did not wait long to make you his.

The days in the cabin blurred together, each one steeped in an odd rhythm. Sergei’s presence was constant, protective, and overwhelming. He would watch you eat, his sharp eyes softening whenever you complied. He brought you small gifts: wildflowers, trinkets carved from wood, pelts to keep you warm. He never let you wander far, always ensuring you were within sight. And though he never forced his touch upon you, you could feel the tension thrumming beneath the surface, like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.

In the evening, as the fire crackled and cast flickering shadows on the walls, Sergei sat across from you. He leaned forward, large hands resting on his knees. “It is time,” he said, his voice calm but unyielding. “Time?” you echoed, your throat dry. “For us to marry.” You stared at him, heart pounding. “I… I can’t. I don’t even know what you want from me. I—I never— You kidnapped me!”

“You were made for this,” he said, cutting you off. his eyes were setting you a-light, it made your skin prickle. “You think I do not see it? Your purity. Your innocence. You were meant to be a wife. My wife.” Tears burned in your eyes, but you blinked them away. “But I’m not— I need to marry someone I love!"

“You are ready,” he insisted, his tone softening only slightly. “I have waited long enough. It will be done."

And it was.

The ceremony was simple, ritualistic. Sergei had prepared everything. rings made from woven silver, a bearskin cloak to drape over your shoulders as a symbol of protection. There was no priest, no people, only the two of you and the forest as your witness. He spoke vows in a language you did not understand, his voice deep and reverent, as though he were offering you up to some ancient force. When it was your turn, your voice faltered, but under his watchful gaze, you repeated the words he taught you.

“You are mine,” he said at the end, taking your face in his hands. His eyes burned with possessive fire. “And I am yours.”

but every wolf gets hungry eventually.

When night fell, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clutching the thick wool blanket. Sergei entered the room, his movements slow and deliberate. He had shed his usual pelts, his bare chest glowing in the firelight.

“You are trembling,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it. He knelt in front of you, his massive frame now not so intimidating. “Are you afraid of me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes. "I don’t know... what you expect from me? What you w-want...”

“I expect you to trust me,” he said simply, his hand brushing against your cheek. “You are my wife now. It is my duty to show you what that means.” Your breath stopped as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “I will not hurt you,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “But you are mine, little lamb. Every part of you.”

His lips met yours— soft at first, testing, as though he feared you might shatter like porcelain. But when you didn’t pull away, his kiss deepened, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands cradled your face, his touch reverent, almost worshipful.

“I have waited for this,” he said against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Waited to claim what is mine.” You didn’t resist as he laid you down, his hands tracing over your trembling form. He was patient, guiding you gently, his touch surprisingly tender for someone so fierce. But his intent was clear.

oh, little lamb.

rugged hands make their way up and around your hips as his bearded face stays flush against your tender neck. he was ready to devour you. Sergei looked up into your eyes and for the first time you've seen him smile. and as if all of the things you felt caused you fears melted away, so did you into his embrace.

his lips meet yours, and it all finally made sense. you could feel the hunger, the will in him to give his all right here, right now. you wrapped around him like vines on a tree, his low growl of approval making you clench around nothing. it all felt so new, yet familiar, as if somehow, this wasn't the first time. the forest outside sung as your quiet moans filled the cabin. Sergei discards all of your clothes with ease, leaving you in nothing as you stayed splayed on the bed. the fur coverings under, pooled around your body, the moonlight dripped on you like dew in spring and you looked like a precious painting.

with no time to wait, sergei quickly gets naked. it wasn't the first time you saw him like this, but it was the first time you saw it. to say all that fear bubbled up into your stomach was an understatement. you gulped down as your glossy eyes looked at him up and down. "Spread your legs for me." it wasn’t a request, it was an order. and you obey. spreading your legs you give him a full view of you dripping cunt, and sergei throws his head back with a low groan. you finally speak up. "IㅡI am a...a virgin." it all seemed so silly to say now. "I know." he smiles in the corner of his mouth. "Smelled it on you the first time we met." and you whimper. "I will get you ready now." somehow, you knew what it meant. He kneels in front of you on the bed, pulling you so that you thighs are right over his, your puffy lips on full display. two of his digits make their way up to your mouth. "Suck." you comply.

after that was done, his calloused fingers make their way between your folds, gathering up the juices you've been dripping. You whimpered softly and Sergei shushed you, rubbing small circles on your plushy thigh with his other hand. He pushes one of his fingers inside, and you can feel it. It didn’t hurt, not yet, it was just strange and new. the second finger comes quick after and he starts pumping them, swirling them around as his lips made contact with your swollen bud. Your eyes jot open as this feeling washes over you, and you can't help but let your legs shake uncontrollably. The fire wave envelopes you whole before it comes to an agonizing stop. You open your eyes again and above you is Sergei, his shaft in his hand as he aligns it with your asking entrance. "If it hurts...yell. Scream as much as you want. Hurt me back. I am here to teach you."

and teach you he does. he pushes in slowly and the stretch is agonizing, the pain making all of your muscles tense. "It's alright, I'm here, little girl." you let out a sigh, the tears slipping past your lids when you open your eyes. the moon engulfed Sergei in It's beautiful light, his silhouette looking as if it was carved out perfectly. a couple of inches, then some more, and some moreㅡ until he is fully inside. you bite down on your tongue, but Sergei preps soft kisses along your jaw and you seem to forget about the pain. "You're doing so, so good. So good for me." he hums, taking in a big breath of your smell before he snaps his hips slowly. In a few seconds, the burn turned into a delicious feeling you couldn’t quite describe. And though it felt so new, your body fell in place right into Sergei’s touch, as if it were meant to be.

When he finally started to move faster, his groan was one of triumph, a sound that you know will echo in your ears long after. “You will give me childrenㅡ" he said, voice low and ragged as he moved inside of you. “Strong sons and daughters. Our legacy will begin tonight.”

your legs quiver around him, but he leaves no room for mercy. Above you, he looked just as a predator ready to swallow his pray whole. you weren't one to fight back, and you really didn't want to. you back stayed arched against the coverings of the bed, fingers clawing at his broad shoulders as he pumped into you. your tummy was churning, and your head was dizzyㅡ you were far gone, too drunk on the way he perfectly hit that spot with each thrust. "You were made for me, made to take meㅡ fuck, you are so beautiful." you whimper, feeling that fire wave starting to take over again. your velvet walls squeeze around him, causing him to growl. Sergei leans forward, propping one of your legs above his shoulder, the angle making you gasp for air. you look up at him, eyes glossy with tears. An animal. His eyes grew darker, lips crooked in a smile before he delivered his final blow.

you come undone right under his fingertips, writhing and shaking as small pleads fall from your lips. You can feel his seed deep within you, threatening to slip out around his cock that was still inside of you, pulsing. "Good girl."

he prays it sticks.

Sergei’s obsession with you only deepened—he barely let you out of his sight, his touch lingering whenever he could. Yet there was a softness in him, a desire to make you happy, even as he bent you to his will.

He began teaching you small things. how to tend the fire, how to skin an animal, how to defend yourself should a predator come. But you were never allowed to go far. “Why can’t I leave?” you asked one afternoon, your frustration bubbling over. Sergei turned to you, his eyes darkening. “Because the world is cruel, little one. It will devour you. You are too soft, too trusting. Here, you are safe.”

“Safe,” you repeated bitterly. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze softening. “I would rather you hate me than lose you.” you were beginning to see the truth of it. his love for you was consumin and obsessive, but it was real. He worshipped you, protected you, but at the cost of your freedom. And yet, part of you began to adapt. To find comfort in his arms, in the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing that mattered.

Perhaps you were.

[angelfishe]

>> 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

Yandere genshin men x reader ( GODS AU ) Characters : diluc, kaeya, alhaitham, kaveh, zhongli, Childe, wriothesly, neuvilette.

The most desired goddess of them all, beloved and hated by many for their beauty. an ethereal being whose mere presence captivates mortals and gods alike. Your touch can inspire devotion, and your gaze alone has driven kingdoms to war. But among your admirers, a few stand out—gods who don’t just worship you, but obsess over you. Their love is consuming, possessive, and inescapable.

Inspired by Greek mythology, the reader is inspired by Aphrodite

DILUC ( GOD OF FIRE AND RETRIBUTION )

A god of fire who embodies both destruction and renewal. He is worshiped by warriors and those seeking revenge against the corrupt. His followers believe that while his flames burn away evil, they also cleanse and bring rebirth. Despite his cold demeanor, he deeply values justice and protection. Your husband in contract.

Diluc’s love is like an unrelenting flame—it burns fiercely, searing away anything that threatens to take you from him. He believes that only he can truly protect you from the dangers of the divine and mortal realms alike. If another god dares to court you, he will see it as an act of war. His devotion is suffocating; he would burn entire cities to the ground if it meant keeping you safe and by his side.

Diluc is not blind. He sees the way other gods look at you—with longing, desperation, even defiance. It infuriates him to no end. He already won you, already made you his. What more do they want? His flames burn with rage at the mere thought of someone trying to take you away. If anyone dares to overstep, he will make an example of them—turning his divine fury upon them until they are nothing but ashes.

"You don’t need them. You don’t need anyone but me. Why risk your heart with those who will only betray you? I will guard you, worship you, love you... even if I must destroy the world to do so."

KAEYA ( GOD OF DECEPTION AND SECRETS )

A mysterious and cunning god, known for his silver tongue and ability to manipulate fate. He is neither entirely good nor evil, often testing mortals with riddles and half-truths. His followers pray to him for guidance in uncovering secrets—or keeping them hidden. Some believe he knows the answers to the world’s greatest mysteries but only shares them for a price.

Kaeya doesn’t just love you—he owns you. Or at least, that’s how he sees it. His love is a twisted game where he ensures you’ll never escape him, even if it means lying, tricking, or breaking you. He whispers sweet words, poisons the thoughts of others who dare approach you, and ensures that no one but him truly understands you. If you try to resist, you’ll soon find that every path leads back to him.

Kaeya loves a challenge, and what’s more thrilling than stealing the Goddess of Love from her own husband? He knows Diluc watches him with fire in his eyes, but that only makes the game more enticing. He’s always near, offering honeyed words, whispering promises of a love sweeter than flames. Wouldn’t it be more exciting to run away, to escape with someone who truly understands you?

"Marriage is just a word… isn’t it. does marriage truly mean love? Or is it just another contract, another chain? If you ever find yourself bored with that brute I'll promise you a night of passion… you know where to find me"

ALHAITHAM ( GOD OF REASON AND KNOWLEDGE )

A god who values intellect above all, often challenging mortals to think for themselves rather than blindly follow others. His temples are filled with scholars and scientists seeking enlightenment.

Alhaitham does not believe in fate, yet his obsession with you defies all logic. He has studied every aspect of your existence, analyzed every interaction, and concluded one undeniable truth: you were meant to be his.

Your marriage to Diluc? An incorrect equation. A mistake. A flaw in the grand design. He is patient, methodical—unlike the others who act on impulse. He won’t challenge Diluc with brute force or desperate pleas. Instead, he will plant doubts, whisper truths, and dismantle the foundations of your love, piece by piece.

"Love is not about passion or fire—it is about compatibility, understanding, and permanence. And by all rational measures… he is not your match. I am."

KAVEH ( GOD OF ART AND ARCHITECTURE )

A passionate and emotional god who values artistic expression above all else. He blesses architects, poets, and dreamers, urging them to create beauty in a harsh world. However, he often struggles with his own perfectionism, torn between ideals and reality. His temples are among the most breathtaking structures in existence, filled with intricate designs and stories carved into stone.

you are a masterpiece—the ultimate muse, the divine inspiration that makes life worth living. His love is suffocating in a different way: he needs you. Without you, he is nothing. He would carve statues, build temples, and dedicate his very existence to you, no matter the cost. But his devotion is unstable—his jealousy and desperation lead him to tear down anything that threatens to steal your love from him.

To Kaveh, your marriage is an absolute heartbreak. He sees himself as the only one who can truly understand you, truly cherish you. He paints murals of you in secret, builds shrines in your honor, whispers prayers of devotion. Every word from his lips is drenched in longing.

"I could have built you a palace fit for a goddess… Instead, you are trapped in his cage of fire. If only you had chosen me…"

ZHONGLI ( GOD OF CONTRACT AND KING OF THE GODS )

A god-king who rules with both wisdom and an iron fist. Unlike his more passive form as the God of Contracts, an unyielding monarch who commands the earth itself. His laws are absolute, and defying him leads to destruction. It is said that mountains bow to his will, and the very ground trembles when he speaks.

Zhongli, the King of the Gods, does not ask for what he wants—he simply takes it. He has ruled over divinity for eons, shaping the heavens and earth to his will. And you? The Goddess of Love and Beauty? You are the only being who has ever tested his patience.

Your marriage to Diluc is a mistake, a flaw in destiny that he will correct. He has watched, waited, given you time to understand the inevitable truth: you were always meant to be his. Yet you continue to resist. It is almost amusing.

"Mortal concepts like marriage hold no power over gods like us, my dear. You belong to me, as you always have. It is not a matter of choice—it is divine law."

CHILDE ( GOD OF CHAOS AND WAR )

A god of endless battle, unpredictable and relentless. He tests warriors by dragging them into brutal conflicts, favoring those who fight with heart over those who fight with strategy. Despite his violent nature, he values family and loyalty above all else. His followers believe that the sound of crashing waves is his war drum, calling them to battle.

Love is a battlefield, and he is willing to fight for you. He has never backed down from a challenge, and your marriage to Diluc is simply another war to win. He constantly challenges Diluc, hoping to defeat him and claim you as his reward. His devotion is as violent as it is passionate.

He grows frustrated when you defend Diluc, but that only fuels his desire to prove himself. To him, you belong to the one who fights hardest for you.

"What’s a piece of paper and some vows compared to real devotion? When I carve my love into the battlefield, will you still deny me?"

WRIOTHESLY ( GOD OF THE UNDERWORLD AND DEATH )

A god who rules the underworld with an iron yet fair hand. He does not seek cruelty, but neither does he tolerate injustice. Those who are cast into his domain are given a chance to redeem themselves—but only if they prove their strength and integrity.

You are the warmth in his cold, dark domain, the one thing that can soften his hardened heart. Unfortunately his duties in the underworld has made great a divider between you and him being together, the last time he saw you was your wedding day with diluc and he watched from the shadows seeing the one he loved the most being taken.

He respects the contract between you and diluc but what about him, he always fantasizes being with you but now you're in the arms of someone else maybe if he could find ways to bind you towards him being unable to leave the underworld maybe that's the only way to finally have you.

"Mortals and gods alike fight for your love, but only I am willing to keep you safe—forever. Even death will not take you from me."

NEUVILETTE ( THE SOVEREIGN OF WATERS )

Neuvillette is not merely a god—he is the first water, the primordial ocean from which all things were born. When the heavens and earth were still divided, he existed as an endless sea, a formless deity whose essence gave life to rivers, rain, and the tears shed by mortals. Legends say that his very presence dictates the balance of the world—when he weeps, storms ravage the land; when he is calm, the seas turn to glass. He is justice incarnate, not in the way of laws, but in the way water finds its path, carving through mountains and drowning kingdoms alike.

As the Primordial God of Water, Neuvillette is not one to be ruled by fleeting emotions—or so he tells himself. He has existed since before time, before love itself was given a name. He has seen kings rise and fall, empires swallowed by the tides, and yet… When he learns that you, the Goddess of Love and Beauty, have chosen another, he does not rage like the others... He weeps.

Neuvillette does not hate your marriage. He does not fight it, nor does he curse it. But he watches. He waits. Because fire will always burn itself out. And when that day comes, he will be there—as he always has been, and always will be.

"You have only to step into the tide, and I will take you where you truly belong."

[stxrrywoo]

JEALOUSY JEALOUSY ── j.yh

synopsis ; during a night out with yunho and your friends you're hit on relentelessly and yunho finally had enough before he was dragging you home. there yunho was determined to prove that he was the only man you'd ever need.

pairing(s) ; bsf!yunho x f!reader

☆ ── wc. ; 2.1k ☆ ── genre ; smut, friends to lovers ☆ ── tw. ; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, arguing, kissing, dom!yunho x sub!reader, petnames (baby, doll...), possessive behavior, jealousy, unprotected sex, teasing, biting/marking, breast play, rough sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dumbification, big dick!yunho, yunho is a bit of a meanie, choking, manhandling, creampie, lmk if I missed anything! ☆ ── notes ; another fic at besties request 🙂‍↕️ this is from yunho's crazy ass song lyrics and man lemme tell you... that man is insane.

Yunho barely pulled you into the apartment when you yanked your arm out of his grasp and stepped away to get some distance. Your eyes narrowed into slits as you watched him shut and lock the door.

“Are you finally gonna tell me why you brought me back?” You started, annoyance simmering in your gut, “Or are you gonna continue to keep your mouth tied shut?” 

Yunho whirls around, a fire burning in his chocolate orbs, “You act like I don’t have eyes y/n.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You scoffed, hands balling into fists at your sides.

He laughs darkly, causing your stomach to flip, “You're flirting with all those guys, even letting a few close enough to touch you. Are you really that dense?”

“Are you fucking serious, Yunho? I was having a conversation like a normal human being.” You hissed, glaring at him, “Plus, why the fuck does it matter to you? Am I just not allowed to exist around men anymore?”

Yunho doesn’t utter a word as he takes slow steps toward you, backing you up against the wall. Your breath hitches as he leans down until his nose is just a hair away from yours. His eyes bore into you with a fire that you’ve never seen before, causing your heart to lurch.

“Why bother with other men when you have me?” His voice was low as he stared at you, your heart beating rapidly under your ribs, “do I just not exist when other men are around?”

You didn’t say a word. You couldn’t. You just stare at him, lips parted softly, but not a sound leaves. The jealousy simmering in his gut was threatening to break the rest of his willpower. He has tried so hard to keep himself restrained because he didn’t want to screw up this friendship, but right now? Right now, he could give two damns about not ruining the friendship.

“Yunho.” You breathed out, fingers trembling at your sides. You felt small under his intense gaze, yet it made you feel as though you were on fire.

Then his hand was around your neck, not enough to cut off your oxygen supply but enough to have your mind go fuzzy. His lips were just a breath away from yours, suspense hanging in the air before they came crashing down on yours. 

It wasn’t gentle. It definitely wasn’t sweet. It was bruising, possessive almost. His free hand fell to your hip, pulling your body flush against his as his knee pushed between your thighs. A choked gasp falls from your lips when he presses against your clothed core.

“You drive me fucking insane.” He growls, lips moving from yours down your jaw, nipping at the skin, “acting so sweet with all those guys, but I know you.”

You let out a pathetic whine as he bit down on your earlobe, mind slowly slipping away. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, trying to ground yourself. Then his lips were on yours again, hand moving to the back of your neck and pulling you off of the wall. He backed you up until your thighs hit the arm of the couch.

You tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling away long enough to tear it off his body, revealing his toned torso to you. His skin was burning under your fingertips, muscles rippling as he bent down to grab the back of your thighs, lifting you onto the arm as if you weighed nothing. Then his lips were back on yours, stealing the air right out of your lungs.

“Yunho…” You breathed out when his lips latched onto the soft skin of your neck before he bit down, marking you.

“I could be gentle,” He gripped your hips tightly, sure to leave bruises the next morning, “but we both know you ain’t what you like.”

Your nails dug into his bare shoulders as he pulled the strap of your dress down, searing kisses following his touch. He kisses the top of your breast before tugging the front of your dress down. Goosebumps litter your skin as you take in his dark gaze, heart beating erratically when he licked his lips as if he were about to devour you.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, fuck.” He groaned, bending down to latch his lips onto the soft fat of your breast. Your head falls back with a moan, fingers digging into his shoulders to keep yourself from falling back.

His hands fall to your hips once more, grinding you against him, causing your body to shudder, and a choked gasp falls from your lips. The feeling of his thick bulge against your thinly covered core has you gushing, sure that your panties are soaked by now.

“Yunho–” You were cut off by a whimper when he wrapped his lips around your nipple, shockwaves of pleasure rippling throughout your body.

He smirks against your skin, “Tell me, baby, who’s making you feel good?” 

“Y-You.” You choked out as his hand slipped between your thighs, pressing right against your clothed heat.

“Me. Only me, not those other assholes.” He grows out, pulling away just enough to watch your face contort in pleasure when he presses firmly against your clit. Moving your underwear to this side, he split your folds, collecting your slick on his fingers, a deep groan reverberating from his throat. “God, you’re so wet.”

You tried to speak, but the words died on your tongue when he pressed two fingers into you. Stars danced across your vision when he brushed over that spongy spot deep in your walls. You held onto his arm for dear life as his thumb pressed tight circles on your clit, broken moans falling from your parted lips.

“Look at you, doll. I’m just using my fingers, and you’re already falling apart.” He chuckled, your head falling against his chest, “Just imagine how you’ll feel when you’ve got my cock in your sweet pussy.”

Your walls tightened around his fingers due to his words, and that only caused the male to smirk, speeding his fingers up to coax your climax closer. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, your body trembling in his arms as your high crept up on you.

“Yunho–fuck, I’m close.” You cried out, fingers tightening around his arm, the coil in your gut ready to snap at any moment.

“Mhh, cum for me baby. Make a mess on my fingers.” He cooed, leaning down next to your ear, taking the shell of your ear between his teeth.

With a few more strokes of his fingers, you were coming undone, a loud moan ripping from your lungs. White spots clouded your vision as he continued to fuck his fingers into your sapssingcunt. He pressed a gentle kiss on your temple, whispering sweet nothings into your ear before pulling his fingers from your tight walls.

He didn’t give you a moment to breathe before he pulled you off the arm of the couch, letting your body crash into his. The world around you spun as he turned you around, pushing you against the sofa. You called out his name, but he didn’t answer, only bending you over the arm, his hand pressed flatly against the small of your back.

“Yunho.” You whined, looking back at him, but there was a dark gleam in his eyes, hunger burning in his irises.

“Shut up,” He growled, pulling the end of your dress up until it was bunched over your hips, your pretty lace panties on full display. He wrapped his fingers around your waistband, pulling before letting it snap back against your skin, causing you to whimper. “We’re you planning on letting one of them fuck you?”

“N-No.” You choked out, tears dripping from your lashes from the overwhelming need to have him do something.

“Liar.” His tone was mean, fingers grabbing at your underwear once again, but this time, a loud rip filled the room. Then you heard the sound of a zipper, and excitement bubbled in the pit of your gut. “After tonight, you won’t need anyone else. Just me.”

Your breath hitched when you felt him teasing your entrance, then bumping into your clit. He continued to tease you until you were trembling, begging him to do something. Then he was pushing into you, his grip on your hips tight to keep you from squirming. 

“Y-Yun–” You were cut off by a moan when he pressed further, stretching you even more. Your ears were ringing from the pain and pleasure, fingers curled around the edge of the couch cushions,

“C’mon baby, you can take it.” He told you, his tone almost condescending, and you let your head hang with a mixture of moans and whines. When he finally bottomed out, you were gasping for air. It was too much but not enough all at once, and he was reaching spots no one else ever had before, and the feeling was turning your mind into mush.

He gave you just enough time to adjust before he was pulling out slowly, letting you feel every vein and ridge of his cock. The sensation was sending waves of pleasure through your body. Then, once just the tip was left, he slammed back in, causing you to let out a choked gasp, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

His pace was relentless, rough, and mean. Not giving you even an inch to breathe, and you had no other choice but to lie there and take it. He had your hips pinned to the couch, using them as leverage to fuck into you.

All that left your lips were incoherent babbles and moans of his name, your body feeling as if it were set on fire. Yunho smirked, watching as he fucked you stupid, a weird sense of satisfaction blooming in his chest.

 Then he repositioned his hips.

“Yunho!” You cried out as you suddenly came, walls contracting around him, and your mouth hung open.

“Shit.” Yunho cursed, his grip tight, sure to leave bruises as he fucked you through your high but never letting up on his pace.

Once you came down from your high, you could feel the overstimulation settling in your bones. Your eyes squeezed shut, pushing more tears out, and broken moans fell from your parted lips.

“Y-Yun–fuck! ‘S too much.” You cried out, hand flying back to grab his wrist, but he just grabbed it before pinning it to your hip. He let his other hand trail up to your neck, pulling your back flush with his chest as he bent over you. The new position had you crying out; he was pushing even deeper.

“It’s not. Take it like a good girl, you can do that, can’t you?” He cooed into your ear, fingers tightening around your neck, and your eyes rolled. You clenched around him, nodding as much as you could before you let out another broken moan.

Your mouth hung open, tears dripping from your nose as the coil in the pit of your stomach tightened to unimaginable levels, ready to snap at any moment. Yunho pressed hot kisses on the back of your shoulder, watching in sick amusement as your mind drifted away from you.

“Y-Yun…” You croaked, legs shaking as your high crept up on you at an insane speed.

Noticing Yunho whispered in your ear, “cum with me, doll, let me feel you.”

That was the final straw, your eyes rolling with a choked moan as you came around his cock, and he bit down on your shoulder as he painted your gummy walls white with his seed. He continued to fuck his cum back into you until you were begging him to stop.

Coming to a stop, he laid over you, allowing the both of you to catch your breath. When you finally came to, he was already looking at you, a smug smile on his lips, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“You’re ridiculous,” You told him, your voice hoarse, and he just leaned over, pressing a firm kiss on your cheek.

“You love it.” He stated in a matter-of-fact tone before adding on, “You don’t need them y/n you have me.”

You looked at him, searching his chocolate orbs for any sign that he was lying, but you couldn’t find any. Noticing that confusion was knitted in your brows, he let a smirk spread on his lips before rolling his hips slowly. A gasp fell from your lips; you hadn’t even noticed that he was hard again.

“I can just fuck you until you believe me.” He teased, fingers trailing along the plains of your body, his hips still slowly rocking against yours.

And he did just that.

© 𝐬𝐭𝐱𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 : 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙖 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙨. 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮

[nhmkhnh]

TRIPLE THREATS.

PAIRINGS: AMBESSA / SEVIKA / GRAYSON X FEM!READER

WARNING(S): lowercase, explicit content (minors & men dni) TAGS: foursome ;; meandom!sevika ;; meandom!ambessa ;; softdom!grayson ;; sub!fem!reader ;; overstimulation ;; strap-on sex (r.receving) ;; power play ;; manhandling ;; orgasm denial & reward ;; fingering (r.receving) ;; aftercare ;; pussy slap (r.reiceiving).

navigation.

the first sign that something was off was how quiet they were.

you stood in the middle of the room, bare legs brushing against silk sheets you hadn’t asked for, pulse already thudding in your throat. three pairs of eyes fixed on you like you were some trembling little creature in a snare—and maybe you were. because sevika was leaning back in the chair like she owned the fucking place, legs spread, scar catching the light. ambessa towered at the foot of the bed, broad arms folded, her smirk a promise of violence and indulgence both. and grayson—grayson was closest, fingertips brushing your cheek like you were porcelain, her touch featherlight. too light. cruel, almost.

“you’re shaking,” grayson murmured, voice soft enough to be mistaken for mercy. but her fingers caught your jaw and tilted your head up. “that won’t do.”

“she’s scared,” sevika said, like that thrilled her. her voice was low and heavy, and you felt it like a drop of heat between your thighs. “look at her. already fucking soaked, and we haven’t even laid a hand on her yet.”

ambessa tilted her head. “not true,” she said, stepping forward. her palm caught the side of your thigh—hot, wide, grounding—and then slid up, deliberate, until it rested just beneath your breast. “this counts, doesn’t it?”

your breath hitched.

“you asked for this,” sevika said. “you wanted to know what it’d be like to be ruined properly.”

“i didn’t—” the words died on your tongue. you didn’t have an answer. not one that mattered.

grayson leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. “we’ll stop when you beg us to,” she whispered, sweet like honey. “but we don’t think you will.”

and then her hand found yours, laced your trembling fingers with hers—right as ambessa’s other hand shoved your knees apart. and sevika?

sevika stood up.

her boots were loud against the floor. her expression was pure sin. and the strap-on already strapped to her hips was… a threat all on its own.

“you’re gonna crawl to me when you’re ready,” she said. “beg like the pretty little slut you are.”

“you’ll thank us when it’s over,” ambessa added, before grabbing your jaw and tilting it up to kiss you. slow. deep. possessive. like she already owned your mouth, your breath, your everything.

grayson didn’t kiss you yet. she just watched. watched you tremble. watched your thighs clench. watched you sink down onto the bed with your heart in your throat.

and when she finally spoke again, it was to all three of them.

“she’s ready.”

sevika didn’t rush.

she dragged her boots across the floor with purpose, every slow step sending a new wave of heat pulsing between your legs. you were already laid out like an offering—on your back, thighs open, grayson’s lips still ghosting along your collarbone. ambessa had left handprints on your hips. but it was sevika who made your stomach flip, who made your breath hitch the second she crouched down between your legs, leather gloves creaking as she rested them on your knees.

“soaked,” she muttered, almost with disappointment. “already leaking for me, huh? all it took was a few sweet little words from grayson and one kiss from ambessa, and you’re drippin’ like a bitch in heat.”

your cheeks burned. your thighs twitched.

she grabbed them both, spread you wide.

“you wanna cry, don’t you?” she said, voice low, gravelly. “already scared of what i’m gonna do to this pretty cunt.” her gloved fingers ran through your slick folds—not to prep you, not to soothe, but to smear the mess across your inner thighs. “i like that. i like it when you know what’s coming.”

then her hand left.

only to come back down in a harsh slap, right across your pussy.

you choked on a moan—eyes wide, body jerking.

“say ‘thank you,’” she growled.

“th-thank you—”

smack.

“louder.”

“thank you, sevika!”

she smirked. that mean, arrogant smirk that made your stomach clench.

grayson leaned down to kiss your temple. “you’re doing so well,” she whispered. “be good for her, okay?”

ambessa didn’t say anything—she just stood at the head of the bed, looking down on you like a queen watching the slaughter begin.

and sevika?

she lined herself up.

thick. veined. heavy between her hips. the strap-on she wore was black, textured, and too fucking big—and she didn’t give you a second to breathe before she shoved it in halfway.

your back arched off the bed. a cry broke out of you.

sevika hissed. “fuck, listen to that. tight little hole, barely taking me.”

she didn’t pause. didn’t let you adjust. she gripped your hips and drove it in deeper.

“you wanted this,” she snarled into your neck. “you said you could take all three of us. so take it.”

your nails dug into the sheets.

she set a brutal rhythm. deep, fast, no mercy. your body bounced with every thrust, thighs burning from how wide she spread them. the sound of her hips slapping against your soaked cunt echoed off the walls.

and just when you thought it couldn’t get worse—worse in the way that made your eyes roll back—sevika leaned in, lips ghosting your ear.

“bet you’ll be begging for ambessa next.”

you didn’t get a moment to recover.

sevika pulled out with a cruel thrust, leaving your cunt fluttering around nothing—your hips twitching, breath ragged, thighs trembling from how hard she’d wrecked you. your moans were wrecked, your cheeks slick with sweat, and yet somehow… they still thought you could take more.

ambessa proved it by dragging you up into her lap.

“open,” she commanded. just that. and your legs did—numb, obedient, aching. she sat behind you now, back against the headboard, one thick arm wrapped around your stomach, the other spreading your legs wide over hers.

you were on display again. you were hers.

grayson settled at your side like a ghost of comfort, fingers stroking your cheek, whispering how well you were doing. sevika lit a cigarette and watched, satisfied. and ambessa?

she reached between your legs with the same hand that once wielded war hammers and cleaved through enemies.

she curled two thick fingers inside you with no warning.

you nearly screamed.

“you can take more,” ambessa said, not even out of cruelty—but certainty. she knew you could. knew because she was watching your walls flutter, watching your chest rise and fall like you were already halfway to coming again.

her fingers fucked into you with obscene precision. no teasing. no mercy. she curved them up, hit that sweet, dangerous spot again and again and again—

“that’s it,” she growled into your neck. “that’s my good girl. i own this hole now. you understand?”

you nodded helplessly.

she went deeper.

“use your words.”

“yes—y-yes, ma’am—”

smack.

her palm landed against your pussy. sharp. shocking. then her fingers returned immediately, slicker, meaner, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. she didn’t slow down.

“you think you’re done after that?” she rasped. “no. i haven’t even started.”

her other hand came up, big and warm, fingers wrapping around your throat—not to choke, but to hold. like a warning.

you whined.

grayson kissed your shoulder. “you’re okay, sweetheart,” she murmured. “we’ve got you.”

sevika watched with a smirk. “fucking ruined.”

and you were. because ambessa was still fucking you on her fingers, her palm dragging against your clit with every brutal thrust. you could hear how wet you were—how noisy it was. how vulgar.

you didn’t mean to cum.

it tore through you without permission—hips stuttering, body writhing, mouth open in a silent scream.

ambessa didn’t stop.

“look at that,” she chuckled darkly, even as you shook in her lap. “still hungry.”

and grayson, soft as silk, reached down between your legs to help.

“let’s see how many it takes,” she whispered, fingers brushing your overstimmed cunt.

you couldn’t stop trembling.

your body was wrecked—used and open and twitching in ambessa’s lap, her fingers still buried inside you like she owned the right to stay there. your thighs were marked with sevika’s prints, your pussy red and puffy from overstimulation, and your voice? gone. burned out on moans and gasps and desperate little sobs.

that’s when grayson moved in.

she didn’t drag you. didn’t flip you over or shove your face into the sheets like sevika had threatened earlier. no—grayson scooped you into her arms. whispered something soft that you didn’t even register. and kissed your forehead like you were made of something sacred.

then she laid you back on the bed. kissed your lips. your jaw. the hollow of your throat. and as ambessa’s fingers finally slipped out of you, she replaced them with her own—slender, slow, gentle.

it made you cry.

not because it hurt. not because you were scared. but because it was too much. the softness. the sweetness. after everything sevika and ambessa had wrung from your body, the tenderness felt like salt in a wound. beautiful. intolerable.

grayson kissed the tears that slipped down your cheeks.

“you’re okay,” she whispered, voice steady, calm. “you’re safe now, baby. i’ve got you.”

her fingers moved inside you like she was trying to love you through them. no punishing pace. just… care. pressure. a rhythm you could breathe through. she curled her fingers up, just right, just enough to make your breath catch—but not enough to make you flinch.

not yet.

sevika leaned in beside you, one gloved hand stroking your inner thigh, her voice still rasped and mean. “bet you’re gonna cum again for her, aren’t you?”

you whimpered.

ambessa just chuckled and rubbed your tummy like you were her spoiled little pet. “she doesn’t know which way is up anymore.”

but grayson? she only looked at you.

“i want you to let go for me,” she said, voice like velvet. “you’ve done so well, sweetheart. just one more. that’s it.”

her thumb circled your clit. her mouth kissed your temple again. and her fingers pushed a little deeper, filled you up in that achingly perfect way that made you arch into her hand with a sound that didn’t sound human anymore.

it wasn’t rough.

it wasn’t violent.

it was love, disguised as ruin.

and when you came for the third time—shaking, twitching, nearly sobbing from how good it felt—grayson held you through it. kissed you through it. whispered praise through it.

“that’s my girl,” she murmured. “that’s it. that’s it.”

and when you slumped back, mind blank, body limp—

she pulled the blanket up over you.

not sevika. not ambessa.

grayson tucked you in.

bonus: aftercare.

you didn’t know when you passed out. somewhere between grayson’s fingers and ambessa’s last kiss to your shoulder, your mind just… floated away. weightless. boneless. fucked stupid and full of stars.

you came to slowly.

softness first. then warmth. then the weight of three shadows hovering over your thoroughly ruined body.

“she’s awake,” grayson whispered, stroking your hair back from your face. “there you are, baby.”

you made a sound. a weak one.

sevika was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a glass of water with a straw bent just right. she offered it without a word, eyes a little darker than usual. still rough, still sevika, but something about the way she tilted it to your lips said i’m sorry for breaking you like that. even if she wasn’t.

“drink, sweetheart,” grayson coaxed, helping you up just enough to sip.

you sucked slowly. barely managed half before your arms gave out again. ambessa caught you before you flopped sideways, her broad arms scooping you back into her lap like you weighed nothing.

“easy,” she murmured, pressing a cool cloth to your neck. “you did good, little one.”

your body still ached. between your legs felt used and sore, every shift of your hips reminding you that three different women had made their mark. but the pain didn’t scare you. it was background noise now. you were safe. held.

sevika, of all people, appeared again with a little tray.

“what’s that?” you slurred.

“fruit,” she muttered, looking anywhere but your eyes. “and some crackers. you need sugar.”

she picked up a piece of mango and held it out.

you blinked at her.

“take the fucking mango, baby.”

you opened your mouth. she fed you.

grayson giggled, brushing her knuckles against your cheek. “look at our pretty little thing. you survived us.”

“barely,” you croaked, voice hoarse.

ambessa pressed her lips to your temple. “but you did.”

you ate in quiet little bites, slow and drowsy. someone kept giving you water between each piece of fruit. sevika eventually sat behind you, letting you lean back against her chest while grayson rubbed lotion into your thighs and ambessa massaged your calves like a fucking goddess.

they cleaned you up together. warm cloths, soft towels, whispered praise. fingers combed through your hair. someone changed the sheets without you even noticing.

and when it was done?

grayson curled beside you and tucked the blanket around your shoulders.

sevika stayed behind you, one hand resting on your stomach, thumb moving in lazy circles.

ambessa lay at your feet like a lioness watching over her prize.

“you’re not going anywhere,” sevika said.

“no one else gets to touch you,” ambessa added.

“sleep,” grayson murmured. “we’ll be right here when you wake up.”

and you believed them.

[buckysleftbicep]

off limits 𐙚 b.b

pairing: new avenger!bucky barnes x widow!fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex, mirror sex, possessive!bucky, jealous!bucky, rough sex, choking, creampie, bathroom sex

summary: at a high profile mission gala, bucky snaps when he sees another man's hands on you, jealousy boils over and he shows you exactly who you belong to

word count: 3.4k

author's note: hi! so bucky in a suit gave me this amazing idea, and here we are! thank you for reading, love ya guys and stay safe out there! 💓

say it with me, daddy

The mission was clear, infiltrate the gala just as Val had instructed the team to, identify the arms dealer, and intercept the transfer. You had done it all before with Steve way back when the team needed classified HYDRA information, and with Natasha who you had trained in the red room with, she had taught you basically everything you needed to know.

You had slipped into a silk dress like it was your second skin, painting on seduction. Your job was easy, sort of, play the temptress, distract the target. Smile like you were enjoying every excruciating second of their hands on you, while Bucky monitored from the perimeter—dark, silent, and ready to kill if anything went wrong.

But this time, something was different.

From the moment you stepped out of the safehouse that evening, the dress clinging to your curves like a second skin and your lips painted crimson red, he hadn’t spoken a word.

From the moment you stepped out of the safehouse that evening, the dress clinging to your curves like a second skin and your lips painted crimson red, he hadn’t spoken a word.

Jaw tight. Hands flexing at his sides like he was resisting the urge to reach for something—anything. His eyes dragged over you, slow and sharp, like a blade drawn deliberately over bare skin. Heat rolled off him in thick, stifling waves, all of it coiled tight beneath the surface, barely held in check.

He didn’t look at you like a teammate. He looked at you like a threat. Like temptation in its most dangerous form, alive and breathing and standing right in front of him. A trap wrapped in silk and sin. And for a second, you swore he stopped breathing entirely, just standing there, jaw clenched, pulse ticking in his throat like a warning.

Like if you moved, if you so much as breathed, he would snap.

And some part of you wanted him to.

You weren’t sure if it was the slit running dangerously high up your thigh or the way the plunging neckline dipped low enough to make any man ache, but something in him shifted the second he looked at you. His gaze caught there, throat bobbing like he’d just swallowed a curse, a growl, a need too sharp to name.

Still, your boyfriend said nothing. Just clenched his fists and looked away.

Now, inside the ballroom that was glittering with chandeliers and crawling with sharp-dressed criminals, his silence followed you like a storm cloud.

You moved through the crowd like smoke, effortless. Laughter light as champagne spilled from your lips as you curled your fingers around the arm of Armand Liska, the smug weapons liaison you were specifically tasked to distract tonight.

He was handsome in that over-polished way men with too much money and too little substance often were. Sculpted jaw, tailored suit, expensive cologne, and a smirk that reeked of entitlement. The kind that believed every woman in the room was already his.

His money made him bold. His arrogance made him sloppy.

Perfect.

You laughed at something he said, some tired line about Geneva and cigars, and leaned in just enough for your perfume to reach him, just enough for Bucky to see. Your hand slipped casually to Armand’s sleeve, fingers resting there like you belonged.

You didn’t have to look. You could feel it.

Bucky’s gaze from across the room, it was cold, hard and burning a hole straight through you. Thirty feet away and you could still taste the tension on your tongue. He was watching. You knew that weight. Knew what it meant.

And maybe, just maybe, you leaned in a little closer.

His voice crackled through the earpiece once—tight, clipped. “You’re getting too close.”

You pressed your fingers to your comm. “He likes it close.”

Behind you, Armand chuckled, utterly oblivious to the tension stretching like wire across the ballroom. His hand slid lower, fingers brushing the curve of your hip… then lower still, settling on your ass with the kind of casual entitlement that made your skin crawl.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t so much as blink. Just kept your smile painted on and tilted your chin, throwing a slow, deliberate glance over your shoulder, straight at Bucky.

And there he was.

Posted like a sentinel at the marble bar, a glass of whiskey cradled between his hands, the leather of his glove creaking against the metal plates of his prosthetic. His jaw clenched. His eyes, steel grey, dark, locked on you burned hotter than the liquor in his glass.

You held his gaze.

And then, as if to twist the knife, you let your smile grow just a fraction wider. Turned back to Armand, letting your fingers drift higher along his arm, nails just grazing fabric.

Across the room, the glass in Bucky’s hand groaned under the pressure of his grip.

One second more and it might’ve shattered.

“Jesus,” came Ava’s voice through the shared comms. “He’s going to explode.”

Yelena added with a smirk in her voice, “You okay over there, Barnes? Want us to send in another drink and a stress ball?”

John chimed in, full of smug amusement. “Or maybe just one of those ‘get well soon’ cards. ‘Sorry your girl had to flirt with some greasy asshole”.

“Back in my day,” Alexei added with a sigh “if man touch my woman, I break his finger and stir drink with it.”

Bucky wasn’t listening. He was too busy watching you run your fingers down the arm of a man who wasn’t him. Watching you laugh, lean in, play your part like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing.

Without a word, he shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it onto the bar, the movement sharp, deliberate, like peeling back a layer just to keep from snapping.

The second Armand’s hand slid lower, squeezing your ass like he could get away with it, Bucky moved. No hesitation. No warning. He didn’t walk, god, he stalked, every step deliberate, jaw clenched, eyes locked on the weapons dealer like a kill order had just been given.

His eyes locked on you like a predator finally off the leash, jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. The suit jacket strained across his shoulders as he pushed through the crowd, focused, seething, every step radiating barely restrained violence.

You saw him coming. And you didn’t flinch. You just stood there, a little breathless, lips parting in the faintest smile—knowing exactly what you done.

Bucky didn’t spare your mark a glance. His metal hand clamped around your wrist—tight enough to make your breath hitch as he yanked you into him, chest to chest. The grip wasn’t gentle and you knew it wasn’t meant to be.

“Let’s go,” he growled, low and rough against your ear, voice edged with something dangerous.

You blinked up at him, lashes fluttering like you hadn’t just been caught. “Excuse me?”

Armand let out a quiet laugh behind you, hand still gripping your ass like he owned it. “Hey man, I’m getting lucky here.”

Bucky stopped.

Slowly, he turned his head, eyes dragging down to where Armand’s hand still sat, bold and possessive. That smug fucking grip. Like you were something he could touch. Keep. Claim.

“You’re touching something that doesn’t belong to you,” Bucky said, voice quiet—too quiet. “Take your hand off her. Or I’ll take it off for you.”

Armand raised a brow, still grinning. “What are you, her boyfriend or something?”

Bucky didn’t blink. “I’m the reason you’re still breathing. Don’t make me change that.”

The smile dropped off Armand’s face.

There was a beat of silence before he stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender, muttering under his breath. Bucky didn’t look at him again.

“Bucky—” you started.

“Now.”

He moved without hesitation, his arm snapping around your waist as he pulled you into his side, possessive and unyielding. His pace was fast, controlled, but every line of his body screamed tension.

You could feel it in the way his fingers dug into your hip, in the rigid press of his frame against yours as he steered you through the crowd like he didn’t trust himself to let go.

The air around him felt charged—sharp, crackling with restraint barely holding. The team watched in silence, heads turning as you passed, no one daring to speak.

John’s voice finally crackled to life. “I owe Ava twenty bucks.”

“I told you she was pushing his buttons,” Ava said smugly.

“Seven minutes,” Yelena murmured. “They’ll be back. Probably looking freshly fucked.”

Bucky didn’t care.

He should’ve waited. He should’ve remembered protocol. He should’ve played the part of the calm soldier, the cool operative.

But he couldn't, not after watching another man put his hands on you. Not after seeing you lean in, smile, let that bastard touch your waist like he owned a piece of you. Like he had the right to stare at your body, to laugh into your ear, to treat you like something he could keep.

You weren’t his. And Bucky couldn’t stomach that for one more second.

The bathroom door slammed shut behind you, the heavy echo ricocheting off marble and tile like a gunshot. You barely had time to gasp before you felt it—Bucky’s body pressing into yours, pinning you flat against the door with the weight of everything he’d been holding back.

His hands slammed against the door on either side of your head, caging you in. His chest rose and fell in sharp, shallow breaths, the heat radiating off him in waves. He was too close, too still, like something barely leashed and seconds from snapping.

His scent hit you next, whiskey, leather, and clean sweat and it coiled through your senses like a drug, setting your nerves alight. It made you shiver, made your pulse jump in your throat.

Your eyes locked in the small sliver of space between you. He didn’t speak. Not right away. Just stared. Like he couldn’t decide whether to fuck you or punish you. Maybe both.

Then, low and gravel-rough, his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “You wore that fucking dress on purpose.”

Your lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. The kind that always made him twitch. The kind that always got you in trouble. “Maybe.”

His hand moved fast—fingers gripping your jaw, thumb pressing just below your chin. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but it made a point. It claimed. Possessive and unmistakable. And you didn’t resist.

“You let him touch you,” he said, quieter now, the words sharp enough to cut, laced with heat and something darker.

You shrugged, as much as the door behind you would allow. “It was part of the mission,” you said, breathless and sweet.

His mouth dragged along your jaw, rough stubble scraping your skin. He bit down, just enough to make you whimper, then pulled back to snarl against your ear, voice low and dangerous.

“You let him touch your ass.”

Your mouth parted. “It was part of the job—”

“Then why the fuck didn’t you stop him?”

His voice dropped to a growl. Real, rough, and ragged with restraint—like it physically hurt him to keep his hands to himself.

You turned your head just enough to meet his gaze. His pupils were blown wide, dark and stormy with jealousy and need. And you told him. Soft. Honest.

“Because I knew you were watching.”

That broke the dam.

He groaned, low and feral, and then you were moving—spun around so fast your heels nearly slipped. His hands locked around your waist, gripping tight, shoving you forward until your palms caught the edge of the marble sink.

The counter was cold against your skin, grounding, even as your thighs trembled beneath the press of his body.

Bucky didn’t say a word. Just stared at you in the mirror. And you stared back. Your reflection was already wrecked, flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes glassy with lust.

You could feel the wild beat of your heart pounding against his chest behind you, every inch of your body mirroring the tension in his.

“Look at yourself,” he growled, mouth brushing your ear. “Look what you fuckin’ do to me.”

His hands slid over your hips, slow at first, rough palms tracing the dip of your waist as he pushed your dress higher with every pass.

There was no hesitation. No patience. Just raw, hungry need, burning through his touch like fire.

You arched into him with a soft gasp when you felt the hard press of his cock grinding through his slacks, pressed tight against your ass.

“This what you wanted?” he rasped. “Me watching you let some asshole touch what’s mine?”

A quiet moan slipped from your lips as you nodded, eyes fluttering toward the glass.

“Say it,” he snapped, his hand curling around your throat. “Say who you fuckin’ belong to.”

Your voice was breathless. Barely audible. “You.”

He made a low sound—half groan, half curse—and his lips grazed your shoulder, teeth dragging across your skin as he bunched the dress higher and exposed the thin scrap of lace you’d worn beneath. When he saw you weren’t wearing anything else, the breath hissed through his teeth.

“Fuck, princess. You only wore this tiny thing?"

You nodded again, trembling beneath the weight of his touch. His hand clenched on your hip.

“You knew what this would do to me,” he muttered. “Walking in like that. Letting him touch you—like you didn’t fucking know better.”

He didn’t finish the thought. Just yanked your panties aside with one sharp tug, his fingers sliding between your thighs—finding you already soaked.

“Jesus. Drippin’ for me already?”

Your forehead hit the mirror as you exhaled a shaky breath, palms braced against the cold countertop. Your reflection was a mess, cheeks burning, mouth open, eyes dark with arousal. You looked breathless, flushed, completely undone by him—and he hadn’t even taken his time yet.

“Please, Bucky,” you whispered.

He didn’t make you beg for long.

One smooth motion—his zipper down, cock out, the tip teasing through your folds, slick and slow. You pushed your hips back into him, desperate, but he held you firm.

“No,” he said, voice like broken gravel. “You wanted to tease me? Now you’re gonna feel every fuckin’ inch of what you did to me.”

And then he pushed in.

Agonisingly slow, inch by thick inch, until he bottomed out, stretching you wide. The breath caught in your lungs, and your nails bit into the edge of the countertop.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “Watch yourself get fucked.”

You did. You watched the way your body trembled, watched the hunger in his eyes, watched the veins in his arm flex as he started to move.

His rhythm was rough, relentless and punishing, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure straight through your core, echoing between your thighs like fire.

“You feel that?” he growled against your neck. “That’s what you fuckin’ do to me. All night, hard as a rock, watching you let some asshole touch what’s mine.”

His hand slid up again, fingers wrapping around your throat, not choking, just holding, anchoring. You moaned as he fucked you harder, deeper, angling his hips just right.

Your eyes fluttered shut, but he tugged your chin back to the glass. “No, no. Eyes open princess,” he said, breath hot on your ear. “You wanted the attention? You get it. Watch what I do to you."

And you did.

You watched the way your body bounced with every thrust, his grip bruising into your hips, marking you. Watched the red flush crawl up your chest, watched his expression, jaw tight, lips parted, eyes black with lust as he dragged you toward the edge.

Your moans grew louder. Desperate. He slapped a hand over your mouth, smirking darkly.

“Can’t be too loud, sweetheart. People outside will hear how needy you are for me.”

That only made it hotter.

Your legs started to shake. The pressure builds fast, your orgasm coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap.

“You gonna cum for me?” he asked, his voice fraying at the edges.

You nodded, eyes wild, breath caught.

“Then say it,” he snarled. “Say who this fuckin’ pussy belongs to.”

You gasped against his hand, voice shaking.

“Y-You, Bucky. Fuck—yours.”

He groaned, loud and filthy, and slammed into you one last time just as you shattered around him. Your orgasm hit like a wave, body convulsing, breath gone, thighs trembling from the force of it. You clenched so hard around him he swore through gritted teeth, fucking you through it as he spilled inside with a broken growl.

“Atta girl,” he murmured, voice rough. “That’s my fuckin’ girl.”

Neither of you moved for a moment. Just panting, tangled together, your bodies buzzing from the crash. Outside, the party carried on—music drifting faintly under the door, as if the world hadn’t just come to a standstill inside that room.

Finally, Bucky leaned in and kissed your shoulder—softer now.

“Next time,” he whispered, still catching his breath, “you even smile at another man like that, I’ll bend you over in front of the whole damn party.”

You didn’t even try to hide your smile this time. You could still feel him inside you. His voice, his breath, his hands—etched into your body like a promise.

You swallowed hard, heels clicking sharply on the marble floor as you made your way back down the hallway. The air was cooler out here, but it didn’t help the burn still simmering between your thighs. 

Your legs weren’t entirely steady, and you could feel the ache in every step. You didn’t dare look back at him. You didn’t need to. He was watching you. Always.

“Stop fixing your dress,” Bucky murmured low behind you, so close it ghosted against your ear. “Let ‘em see what’s mine.”

You bit your bottom lip, pulse fluttering. You weren’t sure if it was pride or arousal—but either way, you obeyed.

As the ballroom came into view, your stomach twisted. You knew the team would notice. They always did.

Sure enough, Ava was the first to clock you. Her eyes flicked over you once, then to Bucky, and then back again. The corner of her mouth twitched upward in a knowing smirk as she lifted her champagne flute like a toast.

“Huh. You two were gone a while,” she drawled, voice honeyed with sarcasm. “What’d you do, fall into the toilet?”

You tried to play it cool, brushing a hand along your necklace like you hadn’t just been fucked against a bathroom mirror by your boyfriend. Bucky said nothing, of course he didn’t, but the smug tilt of his jaw said everything.

John spotted you next and immediately barked out a laugh. “Oh no. Oh no. You didn’t—” He pointed vaguely toward the hall behind you. “You did.”

Yelena let out a long whistle and leaned in, hands clasped in mock prayer. “ Jesus. I thought the walls weren’t soundproof.”

Her gaze flicked to Bucky, and she grinned. “You’ve got lipstick on your jaw, Barnes.”

You blanched, immediately reaching up to fix it, but Bucky caught your wrist, stopping you with a firm grip. He didn’t even glance down. Just leaned into your ear with a quiet, gravelly murmur meant only for you.

“Leave it.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

And damn you, your body obeyed before your brain caught up.

“Okay, but really,” John said, his grin practically splitting his face in two. “Bathroom? Bold move.”

“Definitely mirror sex," Yelena added. “That’s his thing, right?”

“Yelena,” you hissed, cheeks burning.

She shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s not a judgment. Just an observation.”

Bucky didn’t offer them the satisfaction of a reaction. His eyes were scanning the crowd again, narrowed and alert, but his grip on your waist told a different story. You weren’t getting away. Not yet.

He pulled you closer with one strong arm, pressing a subtle kiss just below your ear—more threat than affection—and when he spoke, it was quiet, dangerous.

“If that asshole so much as looks at you again, I’ll put him through the goddamn table.”

And that? That was not a threat for public consumption.

But it made your thighs clench all over again.

You let your head tilt toward him just slightly, your voice low, teasing “Jealousy looks good on you, Sergeant.”

His answering smirk sent a shiver down your spine.

And as the team returned to their drinks, pretending not to watch, the heat between you and Bucky crackled just beneath the surface—undeniable, unresolved.

His touch on your waist lingered like a brand, his breath still warm against your skin. You didn’t need words to know what came next.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

[vxn1ly]

ʚଓ Undress me, caress me , I just want yᰔu to fuck me.

Synopsis : You've been teasing Kaiser all night. Talking with his friends , looking at them with slutty eyes and ignoring him for no reason. And now it's payback time. What you sow , you shall reap , right?

𖦹₊ ⊹ cw: nsfw (smut), rough sex, unprotected sex (creampie), degradation, breeding kink (?), hair pulling, spanking, fingering, explicit language, vaginal penetration, overstimulation, bodily fluids (cum , spit), mirror play, verbal humiliation, possessive kaiser, crying, spitting, physical restraint, repeated orgasms, marathon sex, brat taming. Minors do not interact!

ᡣ𐭩₊ ⊹ Featuring — Michael Kaiser x 「fem」!reader

The door to the bedroom slams shut behind you, the echo bouncing off the walls like the warning you knew was coming. You barely have time to turn around before Kaiser's on you. "You thought I wouldn't notice?" he growls, grabbing your chin so tight it aches. "Batting your eyes at my friends like some filthy little whore?"

You open your mouth to speak — maybe defend yourself, maybe tease him more but he's not in the mood for words. His mouth crashes onto yours, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting. His other hand is already yanking at your sorry excuse of a dress, tearing the zipper down without care, exposing skin like he's claiming it, owning it.

"You ignore me all night, act like I'm not even there. But now," he sneers against your neck, dragging his teeth along your throat, "you want attention? You want my attention? Is that why you were teasing me all evening, hm?"

He spins you around roughly, pushing you down over the edge of the bed. Your cheek hits the mattress as he shoves your legs apart with his knee. His hand finds your hair, yanking your head back, forcing a gasp from your lips. "Look at you," he spits, sliding your panties down with a rough tug, "dripping like a bitch in heat, and for what? The way I looked at you? Or the way they did?"

You open your lips again but nothing except a whimper comes out when his fingers slowly rubbed your already soaked slit. "Oh. You liked being watched, didn't you?" he growls, pushing two fingers into you with no warning. "So desperate for attention you didn't care whose eyes were on you."

"M-Micha..mhm..!" You gasp, hips bucking as his fingers thrust deep and rough, curling just right, finding that spot that makes your knees weaken instantly. He doesn't give you time to adjust — he's fucking you with his fingers like you owe him something. Like he's collecting a debt. Like he's punishing you for even glancing at others.

"Squelching like this...fuck, listen to yourself." He leans in, lips brushing your ear. "Dripping around my fingers after throwing yourself at other men all night. You are a whore." He adds a third finger and your legs tremble, head falling back against the pillow as a moan escapes you — loud and shameless.

"You're getting off on this?" He pulls back slightly, looking down at where his fingers are pistoning in and out of you. "Soaking wet, taking all three like the used-up slut you are." Then his thumb brushes your clit — sharp and fast — and your back arches off the bed.

"Fuck—Mich—!" You feel it building already, pressure burning in your gut, your pussy squeezing his fingers so tight like a vice.

"No. You don't get to moan my name now," he interrupts you , yanking his fingers out of you and shoving them into your mouth. "Taste what a fucking mess you are."

The moment you suck them clean — eyes half-lidded, lips wrapped around his fingers — his expression snaps. "You want to act like a little brat?"

He grabs your wrist and throws you down onto the bed, flipping you onto your stomach like you weigh nothing. "Then you're gonna get fucked like one."

"You wanna act like a slut in front of everyone, yeah?" he growls, yanking your panties off from the side completely and spreading your legs wide. "Then you'll take my cock like one."

His belt clinks. You barely catch your breath before you feel him — thick, hot, and hard ; slamming into your pussy in one brutal thrust.

"Ah! Michael..—!" You scream. He groans.

"Fuck..that tight little cunt's still trying to play innocent, huh?" he snarls, grabbing your hips so he can slam into you again, harder. "Too bad. You lost the right to beg when you were eye-fucking my friends."

You moan into the sheets. trying to push back on him, but he grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head up.

"Uh-uh. You don't get to fuck me back, not after that little stunt you pulled off," he snarls into your ear. "You just take it."

And you do — each savage thrust pounding into your pussy like punishment, each brutal slap of his hips against your ass driving the breath from your lungs.

"You're mine," he growls, pulling your hair back again. "Say it."

You gasp, panting, already too sensitive and overwhelmed. "I'm yours—I'm your filthy slut-!"

"Damn right you are."

He fucks you harder. Deeper. His cock stretching your pussy, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, making your walls tighten around him like it doesn't want his dick to leave your cunt.

"..fuck," he groans. "You're squeezing. You gonna cum, you dirty little whore?"

You nod, gasping — barely able to speak — and he pulls your hair harder, dragging your head back again so he can hear every filthy sound spilling out of your mouth. Your orgasm tears through you — violent, all-consuming, and white-hot. You tremble under him, legs giving out completely as you scream into the mattress, juices spilling down your thighs, body writhing beneath him.

And Kaiser doesn't stop.

His thrusts grow sloppier, rougher, until he buries himself to the hilt and groans deep in his throat. You feel the first pulse of his cock as he cums — hot, thick, messy filling your pussy up and leaking out almost immediately.

He stays deep, hips twitching, hand still tangled in your hair as you both pant for breath.

You barely move. Your body is limp, face buried in the sheets, his cum still warm and dripping out of your aching pussy. Your thighs are sticky. Your breath is shaky. But before your mind even starts to come back online, You feel him shift behind you.

Kaiser's hands are back on your hips, bruising and unrelenting. "Think we're done?" he mutters, voice low and gravelly. "You really think I'd let you off with just that?" Your mouth opens, but you don't get a word out, already fucked too dumb.

He pushes your thighs apart again — slow, deliberate; and your pussy twitches, overstimulated and still dripping from both of yours shared orgasm.

"Look at this filthy little hole," he growls, dragging two fingers through the slick mess leaking out of you. "Still gaping from my cock. You love being ruined, don't you?"

You moan weakly, shivering as he circles your clit with cum-slick fingers. It's too much and yet, It's not enough.

"Can't even close your legs," he taunts. "Can't even fucking speak."

He slaps your pussy, light but sharp and your whole body jerks. He spits on your pussy. Rubs it in. Then grabs his cock, still half-hard, wet, coated in your release and his — and starts rubbing the tip against your entrance. You whimper instinctively.

"You're already crying and I haven't even put it back in yet," he growls. Then he shoves in again — all the way with no warning. Your back arches off the bed, pain and pleasure slamming into you all at once as your pussy stretches to take him again. He's even rougher now. Unhinged. Obsessive.

"That's it," he groans, fucking into your swollen, fucked-out cunt like he's trying to break you. "So fucking tight again." The sound of skin slapping against skin is louder now wet, messy, constant — and he leans over your back, lips dragging along your shoulder.

"I'm gonna keep fucking this pussy until you can't walk," he snarls into your ear. "Until you're leaking so much cum you can't even think straight." His hand snakes around your waist, fingers finding your clit again, rubbing circles fast and relentlessly, while he pounds into your overstimulated cunt like he's chasing a high only you can give.

You're crying. Moaning. Clawing at the sheets. And it's so fucking good.

"Cum again," he growls. "Do it. Cum on this cock like the good little doll you are."

You can't fight it. Your pussy clamps down again, tighter than before, and you scream his name as your second orgasm tears through you like a tidal wave. You sob through it. Overwhelmed and broken open, as he fucks you through every aftershock, not slowing, not letting go.

"Fuck, fuck—" he grits out, and then he's slamming into you one last time, deep, hard, possessive. He cums again - hot and thick spilling into your overstretched pussy until you feel it dripping out immediately around his cock.

He stays inside. Breathing heavy. Fingers tangled in your hair. Cock still twitching inside your wrecked, soaking pussy.

You're shaking. Your pussy's ruined cum leaking out in thick, messy streaks, thighs trembling, lips puffy and raw. You should be done. You feel done.

But Kaiser doesn't give a fuck.

He pulls out slowly, and you sob a mix of relief and aching emptiness — but it lasts only seconds. His hand grabs your ass and spreads you open, eyes locked on your cum-dripping hole. "Look at that used little cunt," he murmurs, voice low and dangerous. "So red. So swollen. You've been fucked twice and it's still begging for more."

You barely moan a protest before he's spitting on it again mixing it with the mess he's already filled you with. His fingers spread it all around your pussy and down to your hole, playing with your ruined, overstimulated cunt like it's his personal toy. "This is what happens when you act like a brat," he growls. "You don't get love. You don't get mercy."

Suddenly, he grabs your wrist, yanks you toward the tall mirror across the room, and shoves you in front of it. You're bent over the vanity, hands pressed hard against the smooth wood, knuckles white from gripping it tight.

Your legs tremble, thighs slick and sticky, pussy dripping with cum and aching from everything Kaiser already put you through. He stands behind you, cock hard and pulsing, fingers digging into your hips like he's claiming you again.

"Look at you," he muses, his breath hot against your neck. "All spread out for me. This messy little cunt of yours leaking everywhere."

Your eyes flick up to the mirror right in front of you. Your reflection stares back-mouth parted, eyes glazed and wild, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

You watch as his cock lines up, sliding between your folds, pressing against your dripping entrance. His hand slides to your waist, then down, spreading your pussy lips wider, giving the mirror the perfect view of your ruined cunt. Red, swollen, dripping with your juices and his.

Without warning, he thrusts in hard, filling your cunt with that thick, hot cock. You gasp, hips bucking forward on instinct, but his grip tightens, holding you steady. The mirror catches every obscene moment: the way your cunt stretches around him, how your pussy juices glisten in the light, how your face twists with every brutal thrust.

"Eyes on the mirror," he commands, voice rough. "I want you to see exactly what a filthy little slut you are for me." His hips slam into you with relentless force, cock pounding your cunt like he's carving his name into you.

His hand snakes around, rubbing fast, merciless circles on your swollen clit, making your pussy twitch and your hips jerk against him. You cry out, breathless, your reflection mouthing silent moans as your cunt clenches down hard, dripping messily over his cock.

Your eyes never leave the mirror.

You watch yourself as he told you to — hips bucking, cunt squeezing, tears leaking down your cheeks — and scream his name again and again.

You're already on the edge; your cunt squeezing him again and again. Your orgasm slams into you so violently your whole body shakes, eyes rolling back as your cunt spasms around his cock. You scream hoarse and breathless ; your release gushing down your thighs, dripping onto the floor, coating him.

He fucks you through it. Doesn't stop. Doesn't let you stop. Then with a low, guttural moan he slams in deep, cock twitching, and fills your cunt with his cum again. His hips stuttering, cock pulsing hot ropes into your fucked-out pussy as your juices mix with his.

You both watch as it leaks out immediately white, messy, soaking your thighs as it runs down in sticky trails.

He doesn't pull out.

Just presses your trembling body against the mirror and growls, voice dark:

"Remember to not tease me again, darling," he purrs. "And I'm not done fucking you yet."

a/n : first fic lol

➤ ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა Follow , likes , comments and reblogs are very appreciated!!

[suliigwp]

MY WOMAN

Max Verstappen x Reader

@tammyfortis commenting on... MY WOMAN

Other versions: Lando Norris , Carlos Sainz, Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton

SULI: Hi thank you so much for requesting! The same gazz, short bit sweet! God he's so cute I love him so much

Warnings: Men.

It started with a canceled meeting.

A polite, clipped email. A changed schedule. No explanation.

She stared at her screen, rereading the words that didn’t say what they meant.

“Due to an internal realignment of panel priorities, we will be shifting today’s roundtable to a closed-door session. Thank you for your understanding.”

She hadn’t misread it. They were shutting her out.

She’d spent a week preparing—building arguments, threading together lines of thought, staying up too late fact-checking herself because she wanted to show up as more than just someone’s girlfriend. She was good at what she did. She deserved that seat.

And they took it from her.

The hotel suite was silent, the kind of silence that made your breath feel too loud. She sat back, laptop screen fading to a dim glow, and closed her eyes just as she heard the door click open.

Max was back.

He moved with that quiet restraint he only used when something was wrong—shoulders tense, jaw set, steps deliberate.

She turned her head as he walked in, setting his jacket down more carefully than necessary. He wasn’t saying anything. That was the first sign.

“You hungry?” she asked gently, watching him.

He shook his head. No eye contact. Just a low, “No.”

She frowned. “Did something happen?”

His back was to her now, hands gripping the edge of the dresser like he needed something to hold him still.

“I talked to someone,” he said finally.

She straightened. “About?”

He looked over his shoulder. And the look in his eyes—tight, muted, burning behind the quiet—made her stomach twist.

“They pulled you from the panel,” he said. “Said your background didn’t align with the ‘focus’ of the event.”

Her brows drew in. “That doesn’t even make sense. I literally—what else did they say?”

Max hesitated. His jaw ticked.

“They said your presence might distract from the ‘core messaging’—that there were concerns you’d make things uncomfortable. Too sharp. Too critical. And that your relationship with me would… complicate the optics.”

That was it. The moment her blood went cold.

“Are you serious?” she breathed.

He nodded. “Dead serious.”

“And what did you say?” she asked, standing now, voice tight.

He turned fully. Calm. Too calm.

“I said they should be ashamed. That if they were threatened by a woman who knew her facts better than they did, they didn’t deserve to be on a panel at all. I told them they were cowards hiding behind corporate jargon. I told them—”

“Max.” Her voice cut through his.

He stopped.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

His face didn’t change. “I wasn’t going to let them talk about you like that.”

“I could’ve fought back. I could’ve handled it—”

“You didn’t even know yet.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Her voice broke a little, frustrated. “It’s not about what you said—it’s that you didn’t even tell me. You handled it behind my back.”

Now he stepped forward. Not angry. Steady. Firm.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew it would hurt. And I didn’t want you sitting here thinking you weren’t good enough because some spineless men couldn’t handle your voice in the room.”

She stared at him, chest rising and falling.

“I don’t need you to defend me because I’m a woman,” she said. Her voice wasn’t cold—it was quiet. Bruised.

Max didn’t flinch.

“I’m not defending you because you’re a woman.”

He stepped closer, voice dropping low, warm like a slow flame.

“I’m doing it because you’re my woman.”

That silence between them grew thick. Tangled with emotion.

“You think I can stand in the paddock and watch them reduce you to a plus-one? Watch them act like you don’t belong? You think I’m going to stay quiet when they erase the hours you put in to be taken seriously?”

She didn’t know what to say.

Max’s voice softened even more. “I know you can fight your own battles. You’ve done it your whole life. But you shouldn’t have to. Not when I’m here. Not when it’s us.”

Something in her gave way. Not anger. Not surrender. Just the weight of it all, the exhaustion of always having to prove herself.

She stepped into him without another word, her forehead pressing into his chest. Max’s arms came around her instantly, anchoring her to something steady. Something safe.

He held her like she wasn’t a burden to carry. Like she was worth protecting. Like he saw her.

“I’m tired,” she whispered.

“I know,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “I know.”

They stood there in the quiet, the sun fading outside the window.

And then he said, almost like a promise:

“Next time, we fight them together.”

[catchastarorten]

—“This one’s mine.”

Pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x VIP!fem!reader

Summary: after being pestered by your own brother, you agreed to accompany him to the island to watch the games, only to find yourself helping a waiter—Jun-ho—who was being eyed by a creepy panther-masked VIP.

Warnings: your sarcasm, mentions of death/violence in Glass Bridge, your brother is a VIP, brother & sister bickering/you put him in his place because he's being annoying, the VIPs—panther masked VIP being a weirdo, you save Jun-ho tho, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 2.6k

The golden fox mask felt heavy on your face, pressing against your skin in a way that made you want to rip it off and toss it across the room. But that would be improper, wouldn’t it? A VIP must maintain decorum. At least, that’s what your insufferable little brother kept reminding you.

Speaking of him, he was sitting beside you, his wolf mask barely concealing the delighted smirk on his face as he leaned forward, watching the players stumble and fall to their deaths on the Glass Bridge. He laughed—actually laughed—when a man made the wrong choice out of the two and jumped, crashing through the wrong glass panel, screaming all the way down.

You sighed, swirling the drink in your glass, watching the liquid catch the dim light. It was infinitely more interesting than the so-called “game” before you.

How had you let brother dearest drag you here? Oh, right. He had whined and pouted and gone on and on about how you never did anything fun with him. You had rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they hadn’t gotten stuck in your skull, but against your better judgment, you agreed.

And now here you were, surrounded by a bunch of snobby men—your presence wasn’t nearly enough to balance out the testosterone levels—draped in velvet robes, sipping on the finest liquor, and betting on desperate people fighting for their lives.

You suppressed a yawn.

“This is so much better than another charity gala, isn’t it?” your brother drawled, nudging your arm. “You have to admit, this is real entertainment.”

“Yeah, watching poor people die really warms the heart,” you said dryly.

“Don’t be such a bore, sis,” he said, rolling his eyes. “This is tradition. You should be honored to be here.”

Oh, you were honored, alright. Honored that your parents left everything to him, making sure he had enough money to play dress-up with his rich little friends while you had to fight for your own wealth. Not that you needed their inheritance, but the principle of it still burned. He got to be the spoiled prince while you had to claw your way up in the world. And now here he was, wasting it all on cheap thrills.

The Glass Bridge game was nearing midway. The players were hesitating, trying to strategize their way across. The VIPs around you were buzzing with excitement, shouting bets, clapping, drinking like it was the biggest sports event of the decade. But all you saw were walking corpses, their fear so thick in the air it nearly masked the expensive cologne in the room.

You took another sip of your drink, letting the burn coat your throat.

“At least pretend like you’re having fun,” your brother whined. “People are gonna think you’re some kind of a… prude.”

“Oh no.” you responded mockingly.

He huffed, crossing his arms like a petulant child. If there was one thing he hated, it was not getting his way. You could practically hear the gears turning in his spoiled little mind, trying to come up with a way to make you enjoy this, but his thoughts were interrupted when the other VIPs erupted into cheers and groans. You just exhaled through your nose, staring at the mess.

It was the players on the glass bridge, arguing, too afraid to jump. One shoved another forward, out of desperation or malice. The man screamed as he plunged to his death.

“Ugh, finally,” your brother muttered. “I hate when they hesitate. Just jump, you cowards!”

You turned your head slightly, studying him. Did he even realize how pathetic he sounded? Lounging in a silk robe, sneering at people who had nothing? He wouldn’t last a minute in their position.

“You should play,” you mused, tilting your head. “Next year.”

He snorted. “Please, I would dominate these games.”

You smiled behind your mask. “Would you?”

Your brother scoffed. “You doubt me?”

“I know you,” you said. “And you wouldn’t make it past the first round.”

He looked genuinely offended. “I’d make it to the finals, at least.”

You leaned in, voice dropping. “Tell you what. If you join next year, I’ll bet against you. Just to make it interesting.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. But you saw it—the flicker of doubt, of fear. As much as he enjoyed watching, he knew very well he would never survive playing.

And that? That was the only entertaining thing you’d seen all night.

A moment later, your eyes flicked toward the Panther-masked VIP, whose frustration over losing a bet had quickly turned into something much more unpleasant. His focus had shifted from the game to the waiter standing stiffly beside him—a waiter who, you observed, wasn’t moving quite like the other servers.

You weren’t an idiot. The way that waiter hesitated when he was called, the way his shoulders were a little too tense, the way his hands remained perfectly still as if not used to serving—it all screamed of someone who didn’t belong.

That was because he wasn’t really a waiter, it was Jun-ho disguised as one, though you didn’t know that. He had taken down one of the servers moments before the VIPs arrived on the island.

And now, the Panther-masked VIP was ordering him to sit beside him and take off his mask.

Jun-ho—recognizing the sharpness in his tone—tried to resist, his voice calm. “I need to serve the other guests, sir.”

The Panther VIP scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “Oh, come now, the others won’t mind if I keep this one for myself, will they?”

A chorus of laughter and amusement rippled through the room, the other VIPs agreeing without a care—“he’s all yours!” one of them laughed. Your brother even chuckled beside you, raising his glass as if this was all just another part of the entertainment.

You, however, did not find it amusing.

Before Jun-ho could be forced into something he clearly wanted no part of, you lazily raised your hand and gestured toward your glass.

“I need a refill,” you said smoothly.

Jun-ho’s eyes darted toward you, wary but sharp, understanding immediately that you were giving him an out.

Your brother groaned, shifting beside you. “Come on, sis, let him have his fun—”

Your hand shot out, swatting him hard against his arm before he could finish his whining.

He yelped, rubbing his arm. “Ow! What the—?”

“Shut up.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but the look you gave him through your golden fox mask was enough to make him think better of it. He slumped back into the couch with a huff, grumbling under his breath.

The Panther-masked VIP tsked in annoyance but didn’t say more as Jun-ho bowed his head slightly and stepped away from him, making his way toward you. You could see the tension in his shoulders ease, if only slightly.

As he reached your couch, he carefully took your glass and poured you another drink, his movements slow and precise. Up close, you could see the way his jaw was set tight, his eyes flickering with restraint.

You leaned in slightly as he finished pouring. “You okay?” you murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

Jun-ho hesitated for the briefest moment before nodding once. “Thank you,” he said quietly, placing your glass back into your hand.

You didn’t reply, just took a slow sip while he stood beside the couch you sat on.

However, the weight of the Panther-masked VIP’s stare was suffocating. You didn’t even have to look to know that he was still watching Jun-ho like a predator eyeing its next meal.

Annoyed, you turned your head ever so slightly, locking eyes with him through your golden fox mask. You raised your glass in a slow, mocking salute before downing the rest of your drink in one smooth motion.

The message was clear: Back off.

Unfortunately, subtlety was wasted on men like him.

“Come back here,” the Panther VIP drawled, waving his fingers in a lazy command at Jun-ho.

Jun-ho’s grip on the bottle in his hands tightened slightly, his body as still as a statue. It was subtle, but you caught it. He didn’t want to go back over there.

So, before he could even think about stepping forward, you reached out and grabbed his forearm, holding him in place. Your fingers pressed firmly against the fabric of his uniform—a silent message that he could stay with you.

You sat up straighter, your voice cutting through the noise.

“This one’s mine.”

The room went quiet for a beat.

Jun-ho stiffened beside you, clearly taken aback. You didn’t mean it in the way it sounded—he wasn’t a possession. But these men only responded to power plays, and if that was the language they spoke, then fine. You’d speak it fluently.

Your brother let out a low whistle beside you, his amusement clear. “Ohhh, big sis is getting bold.”

You didn’t even hesitate—your palm struck his arm again with a sharp thwack.

“Ow!” he rubbed where you smacked him.

“Shut up,” you muttered, leveling him with a glare. “If you don’t stop embarrassing yourself, I’ll give you a real beating in front of all these people.”

He grumbled something under his breath, soothing his arm, but he didn’t push it further.

The Panther VIP, however, was not so easily prevented. “Come now,” he chuckled, though there was irritation beneath his voice. “You can’t hoard all the fun.”

“Sure, I can,” you replied dryly.

A few of the other VIPs laughed at that, enjoying the exchange. The Panther VIP let out a breath through his nose, clearly displeased, but he wasn’t about to pick a fight with another VIP. That was the unspoken rule—annoyance was fine, but outright challenging each other was bad form.

Jun-ho turned his head slightly, just enough to glance at you. You met his eyes for a brief second, and then you stood up, keeping your grip on him firm.

“We’re leaving,” you announced.

Your brother groaned. “What? Where are you going?”

You didn’t even look at him as you responded, voice utterly monotone. “Somewhere that isn’t here.”

More amusement rippled through the other VIPs, some watching with interest, others indifferent as they returned their attention to the game. But as you turned to leave, you felt it—that silent, looming presence watching you.

The Frontman.

He didn’t say a word, didn’t move to stop you. He simply observed, his masked face unreadable.

You met his gaze for a long moment before turning away, leading Jun-ho out of the room. No one stopped you. No one dared to stop you.

And just like that, you stole the only honest man in the room away from the wolves.

The moment you got him alone into a dimly-lit, empty room, you could feel the tension radiating off of him. Jun-ho wasn’t stupid—he knew he didn’t belong here, and he knew that you knew. His shoulders were taut, his breath controlled but just a little too shallow, and his hand was subtly reaching for something. A gun, maybe. A knife. Whatever he had managed to smuggle in.

You raised your hands slowly, showing you had no weapon, no ill intent. “Relax,” you said, your voice calm, softer even. You let go of his arm, stepping back to give him space. “I’m not going to turn you in… or whatever you’re thinking right now.”

Jun-ho’s sharp eyes flickered with suspicion. “And why should I believe that?”

“Because if I was planning to sell you out, I would’ve done it back there.” you tilted your head slightly, crossing your arms loosely. “Would’ve let that old man have his fun.” you said with a hint of distaste at the thought.

That gave him pause. He studied you, his gaze flickering over your golden fox mask, as if trying to gauge whether you were lying, or just the need to understand why a supposed VIP was helping him. You didn’t blame him for being on edge. This entire place was a slaughterhouse dressed up in gold. If you were in his position, you wouldn’t trust anyone either.

“You don’t belong here,” you stated plainly, watching for his reaction.

“And neither do you.”

That actually made you laugh, just a short, soft chuckle. “You’re not wrong.”

He hesitated. Maybe because your mask didn’t hold the same predatory amusement as the others. His fingers twitched, like he was still deciding whether to draw his weapon, but then he let out a slow breath.

You sighed too and gestured toward the door. “You should go. Before someone actually does come looking for you.”

Jun-ho didn’t move right away. He just stood there, looking at you like he was trying to solve a puzzle. And for a brief moment, you could tell—he wanted to ask.

Who are you?

Why are you helping me?

What’s under the mask?

But he didn’t ask. He just gave you a small nod before slipping out the door, disappearing like a shadow. You shut the door.

You exhaled, rolling your shoulders as you turned back toward the empty room. Not even a minute later, a knock came at the door. You raised an eyebrow, opening the door, meeting the presence of a square-masked guard, who stepped inside.

“The Frontman sent me to check on you,” the guard said, his voice hollow under the mask. “Where’s the waiter?”

You gave him a blank look. “What waiter?”

The guard straightened. “The waiter you left with.”

You tilted your head, voice dry. “Oh. Him.” you shrugged lazily. “I got bored. Told him to get lost.”

The square guard didn’t buy it. “Where did he go?”

You sighed, as if this was the most exhausting conversation of your life. “Am I his babysitter?”

The guard didn’t move. He was pushing. You didn’t like being pushed.

So you took a slow step forward, closing the space between you and the guard. He stood his ground, but you could feel the slight hesitation in his stance as you slowly backed him up against the wall.

When his back hit the surface, the shift in atmosphere was instant. You weren’t loud. You weren’t aggressive. But the weight of your presence—the empty, unreadable calm of someone who knew how to lie—was enough to make the guard tense.

You tilted your head slightly, a slow, empty smile forming under your mask. “What exactly are you suggesting?” you murmured, voice smooth as silk. “That I’m hiding something?”

The square guard stiffened.

“Because that would be a very bold accusation to make against a VIP,” you continued, voice dropping to something almost sickly sweet. “And you wouldn’t want to insult a guest, would you?”

There it was—the slight shift in his posture, the hesitation and hint of nervousness.

“I—”

You stepped back, your fake smile still in place. “Good talk,” you said dryly, dusting off your robe like this was nothing more than an inconvenience. “Tell the Frontman to send someone more competent next time.”

The square guard didn’t argue, he just quickly stepped away from the wall, stiffly nodding before leaving the room without another word.

You sighed as the door shut behind him, rubbing a hand against the side of your neck.

This whole thing had been a drag, but at least you’d managed to do one decent thing tonight.

[nanaslutt]

JJK men's reactions to you starting your period during sex

incl: Nanami, Choso, Gojo, Geto

note: anon who sent this, this just happened to me too, you’re not alone

Contains: fem reader, period talk, period sex, blood, choking, multiple positions, mirror sex, spanking, creampie, ass play (geto’s part), dirty talk, teasing, rough sex

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Nanami:

Nanami had you in a mean mating press, your legs up to your shoulders as he drilled his cock inside you, the angle making him perfectly hit all of the most sensitive spots inside you. "Shi-t Kento, right there!" You whined, the words coming out broken from the roughness of his thrusts. "Yeah? Feels good honey?" He asked, smiling into your shoulder before he pursed his lips to leave soft kisses on your neck and shoulders.

"Fuck yes- please don't stop-" you cried, feeling your legs start to burn from being stretched over your head for so long, but the pleasure Nanami was bringing you was more than enough to make up for it. Nanami felt the telltale sign of your high, your cunt clenching tighter around him, the pulsing of your cunt around his cock coming more frequently as you got closer and closer to your orgasm.

He knew you needed clit stimulation to cum though, so without a second thought he squeezed his hand between your bodies in search for your clit—which he found with ease as he began rubbing small circles into the bud. He felt his own stomach start to tighten with the need for his own release, his thrusts getting sloppy as he fucked his cock inside your warm cunt, working him up to his orgasm.

"You gonna cum pretty girl? Gonna cum all over my cock?" Nanami whispered, feeling a gush of your arousal around his length. You nodded your head, your nails digging into his shoulders as you babbled and whined his name, relishing in all the pleasure he was giving you. Nanami leaned back slightly, easing the stretch of your thighs as he looked down to where the two of you were connected, nothing unusual—he loved watching his cock disappear and reappear from your cunt covered in your slick.

Only this time, when he pulled his hips back he could clearly see there were streaks of red coating his cock, making him panic, his thumb coming down to scoop some of the slick that was slipping down the underside of your hole as he kept the pace of his hips up, just slower—not wanting to alarm or embarrass you. When he brought his thumb back up it was just as he had thought he saw, his thumb was coated in your arousal, mixed with some of your blood.

While your eyes were screwed shut and you were waiting patiently to feel Nanami's thumb on your clit some more, he stopped his thrusts, keeping his hips flush to yours. Nanami leaned back, grabbing your ankles he slowly dropped your legs down from the side of your head, resting them atop his thighs. You cracked your eyes open slowly, wondering why he had stopped. "Kento? Something wrong?" You asked, trying to catch your breath, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

He sighed before showing you a small smile, his hands coming to rub along your thighs, making goosebumps arise on the skin there as he caressed you so gently. "It's my fault really, I saw you were supposed to start your period today on the app I have. I should've taken it easier on you." He said, a faint blush spreading on his cheeks. Immediately your face was covered in a dark crimson blush, your whole body heating up in embarrassment at what his words meant.

"Wait- Did I-? On your-?" You asked, covering your face with your hands but spreading your fingers apart as eyeholes so you could see him still. Nanami chuckled, his hands coming to pull your wrists away from your face, facing some resistance from you at first. "Nanami I'm so sorry, oh my goddd." You pouted, looking away from him you tried to turn your body away, which didn't result in you moving far as Nanami's cock was still snugly inside you.

"Why are you sorry my love?" He giggled, leaning over your body he placed his elbows by your head, moving your hands away from your face he caressed your cheek softly, your eyes still looking anywhere but his face. "This isn't something you can control. On the other hand, I saw you might start today and decided to have sex with you anyways, please don't feel embarrassed." He reassured, kissing your cheek softly.

"So.. what now.." You asked, feeling how his cock still throbbed inside you, his orgasm being stripped away after being so close must have left him with a dull ache. "We can do whatever you want my love, I can keep going and finish us off, We can stop and I'll clean you up, I can pull out and get you off with my fingers, whatever you're comfortable with," Nanami answered, smiling at you softly, his other hand starting to caress through your hair.

"I think I want to uh.. finish.. both of us." You replied, looking back at him bashfully. Nanami nodded, pressing a kiss to your face before he leaned back and kept your thighs around his, not wanting to put you in an uncomfortable position again. "You sure you're not.. grossed out by this?" You asked, fiddling with your hands over your stomach. Nanami laughed, shaking his head down at you before he pulled his cock out a couple inches and humped it back inside you, making your mouth open in a moan. "No part of you could ever gross me out." He replied, making you blush furiously.

Choso:

"Ngh- so tight-" Choso moaned when you squeezed your cunt around him on purpose. His hands were reaching up to play with your tits while you straddled his hips and rode his cock. You bit your lip looking down at your handsome boyfriend whose face was screwed in pleasure. "Does it feel good Cho?" You asked, pausing your up and down movements to rock back and forth on him, your clit bumping against his abs and sending delicious pleasure throughout your whole body.

He kept his hands on your tits, squeezing them almost painfully when you started grinding on him, knocking his cock into your sweet spot inside you. This was a different kind of pleasure than when you were bouncing on him, and it was making his toes curl. "So good- so good b-babe." Choso whined quietly, almost whispering out the pet name in embarrassment. His eyes were rolling back in his head, his chin tipped up toward the ceiling as he laid his head back into the pillows, relishing in the feeling of your warm cunt around him.

"Good, wanna make you feel good Cho." You responded, placing your hands on his abs you pulled your hips up, laving just the tip of his cock inside you before you slammed back down on him, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Choso groaned out the moment you dropped your weight down on his cock and started fucking him again.

His chin fell back down to his chest so he could watch you get off on top of him. A blush covered his cheeks while he watched you throw your head back as you bounced on top of him, your hand coming down to play with your clit while he continued groping your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers. Choso was in absolute heaven, nothing could make this moment better.. so he thought.

Choso dropped his gaze to your cunt to watch your pussy swallow up his cock hungrily when he noticed each time his cock disappeared inside you when you raised back up before sitting on him again, the strings of your arousal that stuck to your inner thighs and the base of his cock were a deep red color--you were bleeding. Choso opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He wanted to tell you that you were bleeding, in case you were in pain, but you didn't seem to be in pain at all.

He truly was enjoying the sight, his cock twitching inside you at the revelation that the warmth that was coating his cock wasn't just your cum, but your blood. That same thought repeated over and over in his head every time you bounced on his cock, making him feel dizzy.

After lots and lots of back and forth in his head about whether he would tell you about the blood; in fear, you would want to stop; he decided to tell you--it was the right thing to do. Hesitantly his hands dropped from your tits and gripped your waist hard, stopping all your movements. He was partially grateful he had stopped you at this moment because after seeing the blood, he didnt think he was going to last much longer.

"Cho, something wrong? You close?" You asked, tilting your head at him as you rubbed your hands over his abs, noticing how heavy he was breathing and how flushed his face was. Choso swallowed hard, he tried to gather the words in his crowded head carefully before he spoke. "Its okay baby, you can talk to me." You assured, smiling softly at him, one of your hands coming to rub at his large shaky hand that held your waist with an iron grip.

"Y-you..You're bleeding." He finally said after so much thought, making you furrow your eyebrows together. "Huh?" You replied, looking at your body for signs of blood, the crimson color below you being hidden from how you were sitting flush on his lap, his cock snugly inside you. "Um, down there..you're bleeding." He answered, doing his best to keep his eyes on yours, even though the words he was saying was making him feel incredibly embarrassed for some reason.

You looked down, moving your hands away from his abs you laid them on his knees. Leaning backward you lifted your hips as bit, noticing the blood that was smeared all over his pelvis and your inner thighs, the crimson liquid also coating the base of his dick that you pulled out of you. Choso saw the gears in your head turn, noticing that you were starting to panic. "I like it." He blurted out before you could apologize.

You shut your mouth briefly, registering his words you opened it again, looking at him in astonishment. "I uh.. I don't want to stop. I.. I really like it, but if you're not comfortable we can.. we can stop." Choso knew very little about humans and how their bodies worked, but he did remember you kept little cotton devices in your bathroom, and you had rejected his advances before because you were on your 'period'. He had Yuuji explain what a 'period' was, and the boy had told him that "girls bleed once a month" adding he didn't know much else about it.

Had Choso known what that had actually entailed and how hot it would be, he would've pushed for the two of you to have sex when you were on your period way sooner. You looked at him incredulously before you burst into laughter, covering your mouth with your hand. Choso blushed, your cunt twitching around him while you laughed, making him feel needy. "You're something else Choso." You giggled, blushing at his confession.

"Sorry, I wanted to be honest. I don't know much about.. periods but if it hurts we can stop too." He smacked himself internally for not asking you how you were feeling sooner. You leaned down to kiss his chest, the few inches of his cock you had slid out of you to see what he was talking about sliding back inside you, making him inhale softly. "It doesn't hurt but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little embarrassed.." Choso had no idea why you would be embarrassed about something so hot, did other humans think it was gross? How stupid.

"But, you seem to really like it so.. I guess it'll be okay for now." You finished, making his face flush red, his whole body heating up at your consent for him to keep going. "I do, I really like it, promise." He babbled, shaking his head, his hands smoothing up and down the sides of your body eagerly. "Please keep going, please fuck me now," Choso begged needily, making you giggle. "Okay, okay, but this is a one-time thing okay! Don't get too excited." Choso was long past that, 'one-time' thing? Yeah right, Choso was good at begging, and Choso happens to be your one and only weakness.

Gojo:

"You look so prettyyy~" Gojo cooed, sitting on his heels behind you in the mirror while your ass sat on his pelvis, the skin rippling every time he fucked his cock back inside you, creating loud squelches to echo throughout the room. You blushed at his compliment, your eyes averting away from the mirror in embarrassment from how intensely he was looking at you.

"Awww, you gettin' shy on me?" Gojo giggled, grabbing your jaw in his strong hand he pulled your gaze back to the mirror, making you watch yourself get fucked. "Don't be shyy~ After all I'm going through all this trouble to put on a show for you, don't be mean~" He cooed, pouting his lip at you in the mirror, watching your eyes rake over your body.

"Yeah, that's it, look at how good you look when I fuck you." He moaned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, his chin coming to rest in the crook of your shoulder while he watched your body move and bounce from his ministrations. "Gojo- too fast-" You whined, reaching one of your hands back between you to push weakly on his pelvis, trying to get him to slow down.

There was a dull cramping in your stomach, making you wince when Gojo fucked into you a little too hard. You chalked it up to the angle being intense combined with the sheer length of Gojo's cock, he was probably hitting your cervix--being the reason for the cramping.

Gojo had one hand wrapped around your torso, keeping you flush against his chest, the other still holding your face, making you watch your pleasure-contorted expressions in the mirror. "Huh? 'S it too much? Can't take it?" Gojo teased, making his voice whiny and high-pitched. "Y-es t-too much- too fast nghhh-" Gojo slid his hand from your face down to your neck, gripping your throat slightly he tipped your head back towards him, making your body arch into him.

"Nah, you can take it, mama." He whispered in your ear, making you whine. "You always take my cock so well, don't you?" He cooed, encouraging you. When you continued to mindlessly cry on his cock, he tightened his grip on your throat, "Don't you?" He repeated, emphasizing his words with a mean thrust. "Toru-" You whined, tears forming in your eyes as he fucked you spiraling towards your high.

"Oooh fuck- you gonna cum? S-squeezin' me so tight pretty- fuck-" Gojo grit through his teeth into your neck. He felt your cunt squeeze tightly around him, making his eyes roll back in his head. When they returned to their rightful place in his sockets, he dragged his gaze between your legs, ready to watch how your little hole squeezed around him as you came, but something else caught his attention. A red streak of blood was slowly dripping down the inside of your thigh, coming from your cunt. It was then he noticed the base of his cock was red as well.

It didn't take him long to figure out what was happening. You always took him with little to no complaints. Your hand had been pressed to your pelvis like you were in pain when you told him to slow down, and now you were bleeding--you had started your period, in the middle of sex, all over his cock. Gojo knew you, he knew you would be embarrassed and make him stop if he pointed out what was happening.

He couldnt do that to you, after all you were so close to your orgasm. He smirked to himself, the hand wrapping around your body slid down to your cunt to rub circles into your sensitive little bud, getting the crimson colored liquid on his fingers as he did so--not that he minded in the slightest. He sort of found it endering, it was very intamate. His ego also spiked at the thought that he had literally fucked your period out of you--or he chose to see it that way.

He kept his hand firm on your neck, keeping your face pointed to the ceiling to avoid you opening your eyes and seeing the bloody mess between your thighs, turning your off. "Toru- T-toru-" You whined, gripping his wrist as he continued to rub your clit in circles with his middle finger, his cock hammering into your g-spot. "Cum for me mama, cum all over my cock-" He groaned into your ear, watching your body in the mirror.

"Yeahhhhh- fuck- thats it-" He smiled, feeling your cunt constrict around his cock, your jaw going slack as you were pushed over the edge. Your eyes squeezed shut as you came, your orgasm hitting your so much harder than usual, probably thanks to the angle he had you in. "Fucking- godddd~" Gojo groaned, feeling his own cock twitch as spurts of his hot cum filled your cunt, mixing inside you with your arousal and blood.

He bit his lip watching the fluids leak out around him, his eyes fighting to stay forward as he wanted to watch how your body jerked and spasmed while you came. "Take it baby, take my fucking cum-" He whispered breathily in your ear, slowly humping his hips to the hilt of your cunt, making sure he fucked every last drop of his cum inside you.

He giggled, watching your body weakly twitch in the mirror. He could see your eyes open once more, staring at the ceiling. Gojo kissed a trail from the crook of your next to your ears before he giggled, "Don't freak out~" He said teasingly before he let go of your throat, allowing you to get out of the uncomfortable arch he had you in.

"Wha-?" You were about to question what he meant when you instinctively looked between your legs, your eyes taking in the bloody mess on your thighs and the base of his cock. You slapped a hand over your face instantly, the need to curl up in a ball and hide coming over you--as well as the need to kill Satoru for not telling you you had started your period during sex. "Satoru!!" You yelled behind your hand, the hand on his pelvis smacking against him a couple times in frustration.

"I didnt want you to be embarassedddd~ I wanted you to cum before you-" "Satoruuuuu." You groaned, interrupting him as you covered your face with both hands, cringing at your own body's horrible timing. He laughed, embracing your body with his larger one he wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you entirely. "Baby, it's okay," He giggled, kissing the hands that covered your face. You felt so hot, and it wasn't from your arousal. "One shower and it's like it never even happened~." He said, trying to comfort you.

"It's probably all over the floor, ughhhh.." You moaned, your words coming out muffled from behind your hands. "I'll clean it up mama, it's my apology to you." He said although he would clean it up no matter what, Satoru always took such good care of you after he finished blowing your back out. "Bet your cramps are gone now too, huh?" He added, making you tip your head up, looking at him through your fingers.

"How did you know I had cramps?" You asked, taking a second to notice that he was right, the ache in your stomach was gone. "Dumb question, I know you better than I know myself." He said smugly, kissing your hands again. "They do say orgasms take away period pain," Gojo added, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You groaned, trying to force down your smile before you dropped your hands to his thighs and rubbed the skin there, sighing. "Whatever you say.. just.. clean me up please, I feel gross." You cringed. "Anything for you princess." Gojo smiled, pressing a string of kisses to your face before he pulled his softened cock out to clean you up.

Geto:

The dark-haired man stared down at your ass, mouth agape as he used a large hand to grip your waist, the other pulling your pussy lips apart so he could get a perfect view of your cunt sucking in his cock. He shook his head, groaning when you slowly sat down on him, repeating that process, up and down, up and down, teasingly fucking yourself on his cock while you faced away from him, your feet hooked on his thighs.

Geto groaned as he relaxed into the bed, his hand that was holding your hip coming up to cradle his head, laying it against the pillows behind him. You turned your head back to look at him, he looked so sexy. His hair was pulled half up half down in his signature smile, a faint blush was dusting on his cheeks as he stared at where the two of you were connected with a smirk.

His eyes darted up to yours when he noticed you staring at him, making his smile grow, his head tilting to the side. "Whatcha lookin' at baby?" He asks, pulling his hand back to leave a loud smack against the fat of your ass, making you wince at the painful pleasure. "You're 's handsome sugu~" You praise, humping your hips back against his pelvis faster.

Geto shows you his teeth, a pretty smile gracing his features. "Thank you, baby, you're pretty cute too, takin' my dick so well~" He cooed, his eyes darting between your cunt and your face screwed in pleasure. "'S it feel good right there?" He asked, noticing how your eyes rolled back in your head when he humped his hips up into yours, his dick slamming into your sweet spot. "Mhm." You said softly, your head falling back as you sat on his thighs, bracing yourself on the strong muscles as you bounced up and down on him, the new angle pressing his fat tip right against where you needed him most.

"Oh shit," He groaned, both of his hands flying down to grip your waist at the new position. "Fuck- feels like 'm so deep like this." He says, his jaw dropping in a small o as you do your best to bounce through the burn of your thighs. "Sugu~" You whine, turning your head once more to look at him through your peripheral vision, "Help me," You whine, your bouncing growing slopy at the increasing burn in your muscles.

"You gettin' tired baby?" He asks, soothingly rubbing his hands over your hips. "Yeah.. Fuck me Sugu, please." You beg, squeezing your cunt around him, causing him to let out a drawn-out groan. "Ohhh- fuck- okay baby, yeah, I'll help you." Before you're able to register what's happened, Geto has you face down on the bed, your arms pinned behind your back as he restrains you with one arm, the other softly teasing the rim of your puckered hole as he ruthlessly pounds his cock into you.

"Ngh- S-s-uguuu-" You whine, being able to do nothing but cry into the sheets as he bullies your cunt with his thick cock. "What~" He cooes, "Wanted me to help right baby? I'm helping. What do you say?" He teases, pressing his thumb harder against your tight hole. "T-thank you t-thank you Sugu- fuck!" You cry out when his thumb breaches the tight ring, his fingers resting on the slope of your ass while he slowly thrusts his thumb in and out of you.

"Fuck, you get so tight when I play with your ass baby, you're so dirty." He teases, picking up the pace of his cock. You continue to cry into the sheets, taking all the pleasure he gives you with no complaints. Geto smiles down at you, watching your eyes roll back in your head repeatedly every time his dick thrusts inside you. His eyes drop down to admire the way you're taking him, but his hips freeze when he notices blood on his cock, some of it starting to drip down the back of your thigh, making him panic.

"Fuck, you're bleeding." He says, pulling his cock and thumb out. He notices then that his entire cock is coated in a light pink liquid, the color thanks to how much arousal you were leaking out of your cunt. You whipped you're head around, a panicked, "What?!" leaving your lips as Geto used his thumb to spread open your folds, wondering how deep the bleeding was. Had he been too rough? Fuck, he felt so bad.

"I'm sorry, fuck I think I was too rough, are you okay? Does it hurt?" He rushed, soothing his hand over your ass as he waited for you to speak, his cock hanging in the air between you, still hard. It was then that you realized the ache in your tummy--the unforgettable feeling of period cramps. "Shit." You mumbled while Geto sat back on his heels, apologizing profusely. "No baby, It's, fuck it's okay you didnt do anything." You said, sitting up from the position he had you in to face him, a hand coming down to cup over your cunt to prevent blood from leaking onto the sheets.

Geto looked at you with worry still in his eyes, his hands shaking. He wasn't afraid of blood, but his biggest fear was hurting you, even unintentionally. You placed your hand on his thigh, looking into his eyes. You took a deep breath before you spoke, "I uh.. I started my period.." You said, your face turning a deep crimson. "My app said I was supposed to start in a couple days so I thought I was okay but.. fuck.. this is so embarrassing." You sighed, laughing nervously as you looked anywhere but at Geto.

Geto felt like he was ten pounds lighter, a loud sigh of relief fell from his lips before he leaned forward, his forehead landing on your shoulder. "Thank god," He heaved, his hands wrapping around your body, your arm cupped underneath your cunt being awkwardly squished between the two of you. "I know you're okay, but maybe we should stick to.. softer sex for a while. I think I almost had a heart attack thinking I hurt you." He admitted, keeping his head on your shoulder.

You giggled, your free hand wrapping around his shoulders. It made you laugh how you were comforting him in this situation, but the lack of attention on yourself took away a lot of the embarrassment so you were happy to baby him. "Whatever you want baby, sorry to scare you." You laughed, your hands starting to thread through his hair. After another long sigh, he raised his head from your shoulder and dropped his gaze briefly to your covered cunt before looking back into your eyes.

"So.. you're not in any pain?" He asks, to which you nod. "Yes, promise, I'm fine." You respond, your hand sliding down the side of his face to caress his cheek. Suguru thinks for a moment, looking around the room before he looks back at you. "So... wanna keep going?" He asks, making your jaw drop as you staired at him wordlessly.

Honestly, your first instinct was to say no.. but after you thought about it for another half a second you figured, fuck it. Geto's cock still hung erect between his legs, still coated in the pink liquid, and your own arousal was still very much prevalent between your legs. It was also very clear to you that Geto did not mind the blood, and he was certainly not the kind of man who was clean in bed. "Yeah, why not." You responded, crashing your lips to his.

[aneertawrites]

jealous!Sylus x fem!Reader

a/n : saw this edit on tiktok and got the urge to write... ++ the green eyes are a metaphor for jealousy! sorry for the confusion <3

tags : light choking, thigh smacking, jealous sylus, porn w no plot, oral sex (reader receiving), raw sex, rough sex, yeah....

The room was stifling — not from heat, but from tension. Laughter rang out, glasses clinked, and a hundred dignitaries buzzed with small talk beneath golden chandeliers. You stood near the bar, dress hugging your frame just right, heels biting into the polished floor. You’d worn this to be taken seriously.

But the man beside you had other ideas.

A diplomat. Polished smile. Lazy eyes that kept dropping to your chest like it was a conversational cue. He was leaning closer now, voice a little lower, fingers brushing your arm as if it were casual.

It wasn’t.

You didn’t recoil. That would draw attention. Instead, you gave a tight smile and angled your body just enough to distance yourself — not enough to cause a scene, but enough that he would notice.

And he did.

Across the room, you could feel Sylus’s gaze like a hot wire threading through your spine.

He stood near the edge of the crowd, drink untouched in his hand, suit tailored so sharply it cut. His expression was unreadable — not angry, not even annoyed. Just… focused. Like a predator watching someone else circle his territory.

You turned back to the diplomat and forced a laugh at some forgettable joke. But your attention was split — half on this conversation, the other locked onto the man across the room whose patience was starting to burn.

When the diplomat finally excused himself, you exhaled. And then Sylus was there.

Not a second later. Not two.

“I thought you were working,” he murmured, voice low and calm, but loaded.

“I was.” You tilted your head, studying him. “Didn’t realize conversation counted as betrayal now.”

“He was flirting.”

“Barely.”

“He wanted to fuck you.”

Your breath hitched — not at the words, but at the cold certainty behind them. Sylus’s voice didn’t rise. He didn’t look flustered or possessive in the way other men might. No, he was composed. Still. Like someone who already knew he owned the battlefield.

And the way he was looking at you now?

Like he owned you, too.

“You’re imagining things,” you said — a challenge, not a denial.

His lips curled. Not a smile. A warning.

“Come with me.”

You didn’t ask where.

Didn’t need to.

He led you down one of the quieter halls — away from the glittering noise, past locked doors and diplomatic signage. The second he found a private room — lights low, a lounge clearly reserved for someone far above your paygrade — he keyed it open and pulled you inside.

The door hissed shut behind you.

Silence.

You turned to face him, but he was already on you.

One hand gripped your jaw, tilting your face up, and the other flattened over your lower back, pulling you flush against him.

“You want to let men like that flirt with you?” he murmured, voice quiet but sharp as broken glass. “Then look at me when they do it.”

You gasped as his mouth crashed into yours — hard, punishing, furious. The kiss tasted like jealousy and unspoken obsession. Like everything he’d been holding back since the moment the diplomat touched you.

His hand slid from your jaw to your throat — not choking, not quite — but firm enough to own. You whimpered into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound greedily.

“You think I’ll just stand there while someone else imagines how you sound when you come?” he rasped, voice like smoke. “Not a fucking chance.”

You didn’t get a chance to answer.

He spun you, pressing your back to the wall, grinding his hips into yours so you felt just how hard he was. Every line of his body screamed restraint — but it was unraveling fast.

“Sylus—”

“You’re mine,” he growled, mouth against your ear, one hand trailing down your side, over the swell of your ass. “Say it.”

You swallowed, breathing fast. “I’m yours.”

His teeth grazed your shoulder, not gently.

And then he was everywhere, hands pushing up your dress, lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck as he shoved your panties aside. His fingers brushed through your folds, and he hissed.

“Dripping for me,” he muttered, smirking against your throat. “You like it when I get like this.”

You gasped as he slid two fingers inside you — thick, deep, curling just right. You bucked into his hand, shameless already, grinding against him.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Be greedy for it. I want to feel how bad you need me.”

You moaned, breath stuttering as his thumb found your clit and started tight, perfect circles. The pressure built fast, too fast, your thighs shaking, your voice caught in your throat.

But then he stopped.

You whined, frustrated — hips jerking forward, chasing friction.

He chuckled darkly, lips brushing your ear. “Not yet. You don’t get to come until you mean it.”

“Mean what?” you panted, eyes wild.

“That you’re mine.” He reached around and unzipped his pants, dragging his cock against your slick heat teasingly. “All the way. Not just when it feels good.”

You looked back at him — flushed, half-dazed, aching. “I’m yours, Sylus.”

His eyes blazed.

And then he was inside you.

One hard thrust — deep, brutal — and your mouth fell open in a silent scream. He didn’t give you time to adjust. Just pulled out and slammed in again, setting a pace that was fast, relentless, perfect.

You braced against the wall, moaning, gasping, crying out his name as he pounded into you — thick and heavy and everywhere.

“That’s it,” he growled, voice low and vicious. “Let them hear you. Let them all fucking hear how good I fuck what’s mine.”

You shattered.

No warning, no buildup — just white heat and pleasure so sharp it tore a scream from your throat. You clenched around him, whole body convulsing, and Sylus groaned, slamming in harder, deeper, his rhythm breaking.

“Gonna fill you up,” he rasped. “Gonna mark you from the inside out.”

You moaned his name, and he followed — hips grinding deep as he came, hot and thick inside you, holding you so tight you thought he might bruise your hips.

You were still gasping when he pulled out of you, slow, deliberate — and the heat of him spilled down your thigh, warm and obscene.

You tried to catch your breath, head falling back against the wall, but Sylus didn’t move away. Didn’t even give you space to think.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, breath ragged. His voice was quieter now, rough around the edges. “I should stop.”

You blinked, dazed. “Then why haven’t you?”

He smirked.

Because you both knew the answer.

He gripped your jaw, angling your face toward his. “You let him touch your arm,” he murmured, like he was still tasting that fact on his tongue. “Let him lean in. You smiled for him.”

Your chest rose and fell — fast, desperate. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Then you won’t mind if I fuck you until it does.”

That growl in his voice made your pussy clench all over again.

Without warning, he dropped to his knees in front of you, hands dragging your thighs apart, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. He looked up once, green eyes stormy with hunger.

Then he devoured you.

Not gentle. Not teasing. His mouth was wet heat and filthy precision, tongue flicking and circling your clit with sharp, relentless purpose. You cried out, hips jerking, trying to squirm away from the overstimulation, but his grip on your thighs tightened, holding you in place like a man possessed.

“You don’t get to run,” he muttered between licks, voice vibrating straight through your cunt. “Not from this. Not from me.”

You were already so raw, every nerve electric, and now he was dragging you back up the edge — fast, merciless. You were moaning like a damn prayer, head thrown back, hands in his hair, thighs shaking around his head.

He sucked your clit hard, once, twice — and you came again with a sob, pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. Your knees nearly buckled, but he caught you, hands firm under your thighs as he kept eating you through it.

“Fuck—Sylus—sensitive, I can’t—”

“Yes,” he growled, standing again, towering over you now, voice harsh and hungry. “You can. You will.”

He shoved his pants lower again, cock already hard, again, and this time, he didn’t even bother positioning you.

He manhandled you onto the nearest velvet lounge, pulled your legs open wide, and slid back inside with one brutal thrust that made you scream.

No warm-up. No restraint.

Just raw, unforgiving heat.

He fucked you like he needed to ruin you, like nothing short of breaking you open would be enough to satisfy the jealousy still burning under his skin. His grip bruised your hips, his pace punishing, deep, his pelvis grinding against your overstimulated clit with every stroke.

“You’re mine,” he snarled, eyes locked on yours, sweat slick on his brow. “Say it again. Scream it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, head falling back.

“Louder.”

You cried out, voice cracking. “I’m yours, Sylus—fuck, I’m yours!”

He slapped your thigh — not hard, just enough to make you jolt. “Don’t you forget it.”

You were close again, ridiculously fast — his cock hitting every perfect spot, his hand reaching down to rub your clit again despite the tears pricking at your eyes from the intensity.

“Come on my cock,” he demanded, voice a low snarl. “One more. I want to feel you break.”

You shattered.

Your whole body bowed off the lounge, legs locking around him as your orgasm slammed through you — harder than the last, deep and full and wrecking. Your vision blurred. You sobbed his name.

He groaned like a man unhinged and slammed into you once, twice, deep — then came with a guttural sound, hips grinding into you, his seed spilling inside you for the second time. Hot. Heavy. Claiming.

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t pull out.

Just stayed inside you, panting hard against your neck, arms around you like he needed to anchor himself.

You were both trembling, breathless.

“I need you to know something,” he whispered against your skin, voice quieter now, but still sharp. “That I will not share. Not even your attention. Not your smile. Not a fucking glance.”

You turned your face toward his, blinking through the heat and fog. “Then keep reminding me like this.”

His lips brushed yours.

“I will.”

masterlist

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