#TOP CONCERTS /SLAP/

[clancykisser]

stupid bandom post for a sec but oh my god i want to go to another concert for top soon ohhhhh my god if they dont do a second leg im going to eat my own hands PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS DO A SECOND CLANCY LEG I AM NOT WAITING ANOTHER 3 YEAR HIATUS TO SEE U LIVE YOU ABSALOUTE CHICKENS

[veeples]

14 and 24 for spotify wrapped?

hi kels!! <3 thanks for the ask!

#14. wonderful nothing - glass animals (the. regular version lmao)

In my mind, I'm annotating you What is that you're wearing? Oh, it's too much booze Did your mum tell you, "Close it, " when you chew? Now, scuttle home, go and lick your wounds

#24. knights of cydonia - muse

And how can we win When fools can be kings? Don't waste your time Or time will waste you

[cloudtransprncy]

Dumb/Problem

Kim Chaewon x Male Reader | 4k words Tags: cheating, light bratty elements, backshots, reckless decisions, tension, guilty pleasure Next Pt 2.

Cutting class to get a break? Nah. Cutting class to fuck your girlfriends best friend? Yesssssir

Is this dumb?

Skipping class just to fuck your girlfriend's best friend?

Absolutely.

But with her soft bed under your knees and your hands gripping her hips—who gives a shit about being smart right now?

Chaewon's room is exactly like her—carefully curated chaos that feels effortless.

All-white sheets that tangle around your legs, a fuzzy cream blanket kicked to the side. Squishmallows stacked against her headboard, now knocked over from how hard the bed's shaking. BTS watching from a poster on the wall, vinyls of SZA and Keshi mounted near her mirror like trophies. Polaroids scattered across her wall—blurry concert nights, drunken smiles, memories you're not part of.

Her dresser is a mess of half-open products—lip masks, serums in glass bottles, perfumes that cost more than you make in a week. The scent of her hangs in the air—sweet vanilla with something darker underneath, something that gets under your skin and stays there.

A Bath & Body Works candle sits for show, not for burning. Makeup scattered like she got ready in a hurry—an open tube of lip gloss, an eyelash curler abandoned.

Nike slides kicked off by the bed, a Starbucks cup still half-full on the nightstand. Your hoodie thrown over her chair—she took it last week and never gave it back.

Chaewon's face is pressed into the mattress, her messy bun barely hanging on, blonde strands sticking to her neck as she gasps. She's arching her back for you, pressing her ass against you as you sink your cock into her, her pussy gripping you so tight it makes your vision blur. The wet sounds of her taking you fill the room—slick, obscene, mixed with the slap of skin on skin and those breathy little moans she tries to muffle in her pillow.

Her skin is hot beneath your hands, a thin layer of sweat making her glow in the dim light coming through her curtains. That sweet vanilla scent gets stronger as her body heats up, mixing with the unmistakable smell of sex.

Her white tank top is riding up her back, bunched around her ribs. You keep pushing it higher, needing to see more of her, to feel more of her skin under your hands. Your eyes can't get enough of her—the curve where her waist dips before flaring to her hips, the way her body trembles when you hit just right.

Rough. Desperate.

She shudders when you dig your fingers harder into her waist, leaving marks that will still be there tomorrow. Her nails claw at the sheets, hips rocking back, trying to take control, but you don't let her. You decide the pace. You decide how deep. She just has to take it.

Her breath catches on a moan when you thrust harder. She feels too fucking good, squeezing around your cock like she was made to take you, like she's trying to break your self-control.

Then—light cuts through the moment.

Your phone, half-buried in the rumpled sheets, screen glowing bright. You don't need to check it.

Eunbi.

Your actual girlfriend.

Chaewon's supposed best friend.

She has no clue. No idea you're not in calculus right now. No idea you've got her best friend's ass pressed against you, your cock buried inside her.

Probably just asking about hanging out later, or sending you some stupid TikTok that made her think of you. Something sweet and normal because that's who Eunbi is.

You flip the phone over, face down against the bed. You shouldn't be here. You should be in class. Or with Eunbi. But Chaewon pushes back against you, and those thoughts disappear real fucking quick.

Chaewon turns her head, looking back over her shoulder, breathless but still fucking smirking. "Going to ignore her like that?"

Instead of answering, you press your hand between her shoulder blades, shoving her face back into the mattress.

She moans, the sound muffled by sheets, but you can hear the smile in it. Even with your cock inside her, she's still playing games.

"Bet she'd cry if she saw you like this."

Something dark twists inside you at her words. Your grip turns bruising, thrusts harder, deeper, and whatever smugness she had vanishes in an instant.

Chaewon whimpers, nails digging into the sheets hard enough to tear them, thighs trembling. She can't keep up anymore, can't match your rhythm as you fuck her harder than anyone has before.

She gasps out something—your name, "fuck," maybe both—but it breaks into a high, desperate sound that lets you know you've won.

Eunbi is good. Beautiful. Sweet. She gives head like she read about it in a magazine. She's the kind of girl people expect you to stay loyal to.

But Chaewon? Chaewon is filthy, tight, and knows exactly how to crawl under your skin and live there.

Eunbi texts you good morning with heart emojis. Chaewon sends you pictures of her tits when she knows her best friend is sitting right beside her.

Eunbi kisses you like she's making promises. Chaewon bites your lip until you taste blood and laughs when you wince.

Eunbi's the girl you bring to prom. The girl your mom loves. The girl who makes you lunch and saves you a seat in the cafeteria. But Chaewon's the girl you ruin your life for.

She's still testing you, still pushing back against you even as she falls apart. "You're holding back," she accuses between gasps, her voice shaky but challenging.

Your jaw tightens. She always does this shit. Always wants to see how far she can push before you break.

You answer with a thrust so hard it knocks her flat against the mattress, her blonde hair spilling across the white sheets. She gasps, a shocked sound that's almost a yelp, but when she looks back at you, that fucking smirk is still there, daring you for more.

"Fuck—slow down—" she starts, but you both know she doesn't mean it.

Your fingers dig into her hips, dragging her back onto your cock as you set a pace that finally wipes that smug look off her face. Whatever game she was playing dissolves into gasping breaths and desperate moans she can't hold back anymore.

She's squeezing you so tight it's hard to think, too good to remember why this is such a fucking bad idea, too perfect to care about who keeps blowing up your phone from the other side of the bed.

Your phone vibrates against the sheets. Again. And again.

Chaewon notices, of course she does. She lets out this breathless little laugh that makes your stomach flip, barely turning her head, voice syrupy and taunting like the cherry slushies she's always drinking between classes. "Does she even make you feel this good?"

You don't answer. You push her face into the mattress instead, feeling a rush that's better than any post-game high you've ever chased.

She moans, muffled against floral sheets, but you can hear the fucking amusement in it, the way she's still enjoying this too much, like she's winning some bet with herself.

If she wants it rough, she's going to get it. And God, every bone in your stupid teenage body is screaming to give it to her.

Your hand slides up her back, fingers wrapping lightly around her throat as you lean down, your varsity track team t-shirt sticking to your chest with sweat, voice low in her ear. "Take it, take that dick."

She instantly becomes a whimpering, moaning mess beneath you, her whole body quivering. You can feel her pussy clench tight around you, gripping your cock like she's desperate to keep you inside. She licks her lips—you can feel the sticky gloss against your palm—her breath hitching in that way that makes you dizzy, and pushes her hips back against you again. A deliberate roll that makes you forget there's a calc test tomorrow you should be studying for.

That's all you need.

Your grip tightens, forcing her still, making sure she takes it. She chokes out a gasp, her whole body shuddering against yours, her thighs—always toned from cheer practice—trembling as you fuck her deeper, harder, until her teasing completely breaks apart.

At this angle, with your weight pressing her down, you can feel everything—every slick, desperate clench around your length, the obscene wetness that spreads between you each time you push back in. It's suffocating, consuming, a vice of heat wrapped around you, pulling you deeper into something you shouldn't want this badly but fuck, you'd fail every class for this feeling.

Her hand reaches back, grabbing blindly for anything to hold onto—your wrist, your thigh—until she finds your arm. She grips it hard, nails dragging over your skin, feeling the way your muscles flex under her fingers. Feeling you as she feels you inside, the same fingers that wave to Eunbi across the cafeteria now digging into your skin.

Your phone vibrates again, the buzz muffled against the rumpled sheets where you flipped it face down earlier. Neither of you look at it. Neither of you dare.

Chaewon's breathless now, moaning into the sheets, a mess beneath you, every ounce of her earlier cockiness gone, replaced by something desperate and hungry that makes you feel ten feet tall. The most popular girl in school, falling apart for you.

If you were a better person, you wouldn't be here.

But you're not. You're the kind of person who thinks about this—about her—even during fourth period when Eunbi is passing you notes with little hearts drawn in the margins.

A noise outside the room—soft, but distinct. A car door? Her mom home early? Your body tenses, every muscle tight, your breath catching mid-thrust, the reality of where you are crashing in.

Chaewon hears it too. Feels you hesitate.

And then she laughs. Breathless, airy, like this is the funniest thing that's happened all day, like the thought of getting caught is just another cheap thrill.

"Aww, scared someone's gonna catch you balls deep in me?" Her voice is teasing, dripping with amusement, even as her legs tremble beneath you, her Victoria's Secret Pink thong still dangling from one ankle.

Your fingers flex around her throat in retaliation, squeezing just enough to make her gasp. She barely has a second to process it before you slam her down, your grip unrelenting, then flip her onto her back so fast she barely has time to catch her breath, her blonde hair—perfectly highlighted last weekend at a salon that costs more than your car payment—slipping free from its messy bun, wild against the sheets.

Your cock slips free in the motion, and you grab it tight, feeling the obscene slickness coating your length, dripping from her. It's wet—wet as fuck—before you slap it against her swollen folds. The sound is loud, filthy, obscene—wet as hell. Your cock slides against her, dragging through the mess between them before you shove it back in. She shudders, her breath hitching, her thighs twitching as you tease her with the weight of it before pressing forward, sinking back inside.

Chaewon's eyes flutter, her breath catching as you force her legs up, pressing her thighs flush to her chest, pinning her in place, giving her no room to squirm away. The new angle has her gasping, hands flying up to your arms, gripping tight, her nails—freshly done in that pale pink Eunbi helped her pick out yesterday—dig into your arms, clinging tight like she's bracing for impact, like she needs something to hold onto before she breaks completely.

The bed shifts beneath you, and your phone vibrates once more, the buzz reverberating through the mattress, felt through every grinding thrust. You both feel it. Neither of you care. Not when you should be in Mr. Kim's class right now, not when Eunbi thinks you're taking notes instead of taking her best friend.

Your only focus is on the way she clenches around you, the way she gasps your name between ragged moans, the way she completely melts beneath you, nothing like the ice queen who rules the hallways.

Chaewon's hands fly to your shoulders, nails digging into your skin as she pulls you down to her. There's nothing delicate about it—her kiss is messy, frantic, her lips parted, her breath hot and ragged against yours. She kisses like she's starving for it, like she wants to taste herself on your tongue, like she doesn't care how sloppy it gets.

Your tongues tangle, wet and uncoordinated, her mouth opening wider, drool slicking your chin, mixing with the sweat beading along your skin. She moans into it, needy, desperate, hips shifting beneath you, trying to keep up with the way you fuck her, so different from the composed way she presents herself in class.

You pull back just enough to catch her dazed expression, lips swollen, spit-glossed. A strand of saliva still connects you, snapping when she licks her lips, pupils blown wide with something dangerously close to obsession.

"You don't kiss her like that," she breathes, and it's not a question. It's a victory lap.

No, you don't.

Eunbi kisses soft, slow, careful—under the bleachers after school, sweet and innocent. Chaewon kisses like she wants to ruin you for anyone else. And you let her.

Your response is a sharp thrust, making her yelp, making her arms tighten around your shoulders. Her back arches off the bed, the tiny gold cross necklace her parents gave her for her birthday sliding against her collarbone, and you take the moment to move, dragging yourself out until just the tip remains before shoving back in, hard. Her breath hitches, body tightening, legs shaking.

Then you stop moving.

She whines immediately, brows furrowing, her legs squeezing around you, trying to force you to keep going. But you don't. You let the frustration build, watching her squirm, watching her writhe beneath you—wet, glistening, flushed deep with arousal. She's a fucking mess, and you're not done making her one.

You let the moment hang, let the desperation settle before tilting your head down and spitting—right on her clit. The thick glob lands exactly where you want it, shining against her swollen bud. Before she can even process it, your thumb is there, pressing in, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles as you start moving again.

She chokes on her breath, body jolting like she just got caught cheating on a test.

"Fuck," she whimpers, fingers clawing at your forearms, legs shaking with every tight, controlled rub.

You're still hovering above her, watching her squirm, watching her fall apart beneath you, burning this image into your brain to replay during the classes you actually attend.

"Eunbi wouldn't let you do that," she gasps, voice breaking, teasing even as she crumbles, the same mouth that gives morning announcements over the school intercom now whimpering your name.

No, she wouldn't.

Eunbi wouldn't moan like this, wouldn't beg like this, wouldn't be dripping like this. Eunbi wouldn't take you like this, wouldn't even dream of skipping AP Lit to fuck in an empty house. Eunbi is SAT prep courses and college applications and volunteer hours.

Chaewon is this.

And that's why you fuck her harder.

Your thrusts grow rougher, deeper, driven by something reckless and insatiable, something you're too young to name but old enough to crave. Chaewon's body rocks beneath you, her moans turning sharper, breathless, spilling into the thick heat of the room. You press down, pinning her fully against the mattress, making sure she takes every inch, making sure she feels all of it.

Her nails scrape against your back, leaving marks that'll sting in the shower after practice, her legs tightening around your waist, pulling you closer, needing you deeper. Her breath stutters between gasps, each one catching higher as you fuck her harder, hungrier, as if there's no tomorrow—no girlfriend still calling, no consequence waiting outside this room, no college future that could evaporate if this gets out.

Risk of getting caught? Forgotten.

Guilt of cheating on your girlfriend? Forgotten.

Eunbi? Forgotten.

The only thing that matters is the way your cock fits so snug against Chaewon's walls, the way she clenches down, tight and desperate, squeezing you with every frantic, high-pitched moan as she completely loses all composure. The Queen Bee of your high school reduced to a whimpering mess beneath you.

She's right there, on the edge, her nails dragging, her hips bucking up, desperate to finish. But you don't let her have it. Not yet. Not when seeing her like this—completely undone, completely yours—is better than any high you've ever chased on the field.

You slow—not in pace, but in control. Shift your weight, dragging her with you, rolling her onto her side without ever slipping out. One of her legs hitches over yours, your grip securing it in place as you push in again, deeper, the angle hitting something inside her that makes her whimper, makes her entire body tense up like she's been shocked.

Her fingers claw at your arm, nails pressing into taut muscle built from varsity workouts, her breath breaking apart into sharp little gasps that fill the bedroom. She's trying to speak, trying to say something, but it keeps getting swallowed between ragged moans.

"I'm—" she tries, voice cracking, "I—fuck—"

The way she stumbles over it, how she can barely get the words out—the girl who always has a comeback, who never shuts up in class—makes something snap inside you. Your cock throbs, swelling even harder, stretching her more as her walls squeeze around you in desperation. Your grip tightens—on her thighs, her ass, her waist. You need to feel her, need to hold every part of her as she comes undone.

Your hands roam—palming the curve of her back, gripping her tits, feeling the way they bounce with every thrust. Then up, fingers tangling into her blonde hair, tugging her head back against the pillows, making sure she feels all of it, all of you.

She pulls a pillow close, biting into it, eyes squeezed shut, drowning in the way you fuck her. The room is thick with the sound of skin against skin, her breathless whimpers breaking into something higher, needier. The air is heavy, thick with sweat, with the intoxicating scent of her—her Victoria's Secret body spray mixing with the raw, musky heat of sex, the sheets carrying the evidence of it. It's overwhelming, suffocating, consuming, every breath filled with her.

You're barely holding on yourself, tension winding tight in your spine, in your stomach, but seeing her like this—seeing her break beneath you, seeing her fall apart in your hands—that's what pushes you closer to the edge.

You grit your teeth, feel your cock twitch inside her, aching, swollen, so fucking close you can taste it. "I'm close," you manage, voice rough, strained, barely holding on.

Chaewon doesn't answer—not with words. Just a moan, high-pitched and wrecked, a breathless whimper spilling past her swollen lips. She turns her head, eyes hazy, half-lidded, looking at you through the blur of sweat and pleasure. Her gaze drops, trailing down your body, watching the way you're fucking into her, the way you stretch her open, the way you own her—this girl who has everything, who everyone wants to be.

Then her hand moves—sliding between her legs, fingers brushing over her swollen, messy clit. She gasps at the contact, whines as she rubs tight, fast circles, her entire body tensing, back arching into you.

The slick, obscene sounds of it mix with her gasps, her slurred curses, her whimpers breaking into desperate, breathless pleas. "Fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck—"

You're right there. So fucking close. This moment of perfect, terrible clarity where nothing exists outside this room—not school, not your future, not even tomorrow.

Chaewon gets there first. Her entire body seizes up, legs trembling, thighs squeezing tight around your waist as she crashes into her orgasm. Her grip turns bruising, hands clawing at you—your back, your arms, your shoulders—grasping for anything, everything as she spirals.

"Oh my fuck!" she screams, head thrown back, voice breaking into something raw and desperate, loud enough that you're suddenly grateful her parents won't be home for hours.

That's it. That's what fucking wrecks you.

Your body locks up, heat pooling at the base of your spine, surging through you like a live wire, so intense it knocks the breath from your lungs. Your cock twitches violently inside her, pulsing, aching, your entire body seizing up—legs tensing, toes curling, muscles locking in place as the pleasure crashes through you. You bury yourself deep one last time before instinct kicks in, before you yank yourself out, your hands shoving her onto her back.

You stroke yourself fast, frantic, desperate, your abs clenching, hips jerking on instinct, chasing that last pulse of pleasure. The sight of her wrecked beneath you, her skin still flushed, her thighs twitching, sends you over the fucking edge. "Shit—" you groan, voice wrecked, guttural, as your cock throbs violently in your grip. The first thick spurt shoots out, streaking across her stomach, hot and filthy, splashing across the curve of her waist, her navel. The rest follows in messy ropes, dribbling down her skin, pooling between her ribs. It's everywhere—sticky, raw, a fucking mess. Chaewon shudders at the sensation, her breath hitching, her thighs still twitching from the aftershocks of her own release.

She exhales, still trembling, thighs twitching, completely spent. A fucked-out smile tugs lazily at her lips as she drags a slow, shaky breath in, her chest rising, coated in the evidence of what you just did to her.

You sit back, gasping, running a hand through your sweat-damp hair, trying to catch your breath. The room smells like sex and sweat and her perfume—a combination that's going to haunt your dreams for weeks.

Chaewon stirs, reaching down without hesitation. Her fingers trail over her stomach, gathering the mess you left on her, scooping up a streak from her skin and bringing it to her mouth. Her tongue flicks out, tasting it, humming low in her throat. Then she does it again—this time from her chest, then her waist, dragging her fingers through the sticky warmth, licking it up like it's second nature.

"Fuck," you breathe, voice wrecked, hand finding her thigh and squeezing it tight.

She moans softly at the contact, smirking as she stretches out beneath you, shameless. "You fucked the shit out of me," she purrs, voice thick, teasing. "Now you gonna think about it the next time you fuck Eunbi, huh?"

Your jaw tightens. The mention of her—your girlfriend—after everything you just did, after the way Chaewon looks right now, smug and satisfied and so fucking filthy, makes something snap.

Your hand flies to her throat, gripping, pinning her back into the sheets. She gasps, but it's not in protest—it's in pleasure. Her lips part, her breath hitches, eyes darkening as she tilts her chin up, inviting more, daring you.

And then your phone rings.

Not just a vibration this time. A full-blown call.

Loud. Shrill. Eunbi.

A cold weight sinks into your chest, heavy, suffocating. The real world crashing back in like a bucket of ice water.

Post-nut clarity slams into you, cutting through the heat still clinging to your skin. Everything crashes in at once—who you are, what you've done, what this means.

You let go of Chaewon's neck like she burns you, scrambling off of her, off the bed, reaching blindly for your phone. Your hands are still shaky as you grab it, answering as fast as you can, voice rough, breath unsteady.

"Hey."

Eunbi's voice is light, sweet, unaware. "Hey, why weren't you replying? It's class change."

Fuck. You swallow hard, running a hand through your damp hair. Your skin is still hot, sticky, the air thick with the lingering heat and smell of musk.

"Uh—I had to walk home to grab something."

A lie. A weak one. But it makes sense. You live close enough to the school that it's not impossible. You just hope she buys it, hope she doesn't hear how your heart is still hammering against your ribs.

"Oh," Eunbi hums. "I got worried."

As she talks, you don't notice Chaewon moving. Not until she's right there, sliding down the bed, her bare body pressing into your side, her face hovering way too close to your cock.

Your breath hitches. Your grip on the phone tightens.

She's smirking. Watching you. Waiting. The same look she gives when she knows the answer to a question no one else can solve.

"You weren't answering," Eunbi says. "I thought something happened."

"Sorry, babe. Didn't mean to worry you."

And that's when Chaewon makes her move.

She doesn't touch your cock. Not yet. Instead, her mouth goes lower, latching onto your balls, sucking wet and slow, tongue swirling over sensitive skin.

A bolt of heat spikes down your spine. Your muscles go tight, your breath cuts short, your fingers dig into the sheets.

"Shit," you almost say out loud—but bite your tongue last second.

Eunbi's still talking. You don't even register what she's saying. Something about meeting at lunch, something about the chem test next period.

Chaewon's fucking grinning, lips stretched around you, her eyes locked onto yours, waiting for you to slip up, to lose control, to moan or gasp or fucking break. The thrill of it clear in her eyes—the risk, the power she has over you right now.

You shove her back, her shoulders hitting the mattress, but all it does is make her giggle—low and sultry, like she's savoring your panic, like she enjoys watching you squirm. Too loudly. Dangerously loud.

Panic seizes your whole body. Your eyes go wide. You press a finger to your lips, mouthing, "Shhh."

Eunbi pauses on the other end. "You okay?"

You force yourself to act normal. To breathe. You push Chaewon away—physically shove her back. She pouts, but she listens, sitting back on her heels, smug and satisfied, before stretching her arms over her head, languid and unbothered. Then, just as easily, she steps off the bed, stretching like a cat, unbothered, like this was nothing more than a game to her.

"Yeah," you say, somehow steady. "I'm fine."

Through the phone, you hear Eunbi giggling, the sound of footsteps, her friends chattering in the background. She's walking to her next class. Completely unaware. The girlfriend who trusts you, who saves you a seat at lunch, who helps you study for tests you're barely passing.

"Okay," she says. "I'll see you at lunch then, babe. Love you."

Silence lingers. A pause that stretches too long.

You should say it back. You need to. But then, you look up.

Chaewon's standing at her closet, slipping on fresh clothes. Her ass is in clear view, the length of her body stretching as she moves, her legs lean and smooth. Her messy tank top clings to her body, damp with sweat, a streak of dried cum still visible on the fabric.

Your mouth feels dry. Your brain short-circuits, caught between what you should feel and what you do feel.

"I love you too," you manage to say, through everything weighing on you, and the call ends with a soft beep.

Chaewon turns to face you.

And she gives you a look.

Not smug. Not teasing.

Just dirty. Unreadable. Something dark and lingering in her eyes.

She doesn't say a word. Just grabs her shorts, turns, and walks out to the bathroom.

The door shuts.

You sit there, still gripping your phone, staring at the space she left behind. Your pulse won't slow down. Not from the panic. Not from the guilt. Not from the fact that even now, even after all of it—you still want her.

Your skin burns, your body tense, still stuck in it. Still feeling it. What you shouldn't have done. But you did. And the worst part? Some fucked-up part of you knows that if she pulled you back into that bed, you wouldn't stop her.

You should feel worse. You should hate yourself.

But Chaewon's still hot as fuck, and that's the problem.

AN: This was originally going to be a longer fic, but I ended up with a newer Chaewon idea, and she’s my ult bias so i cut this down to just the sex.

Sorry to all the Eunbi fans, dw she’ll get her own

[miaoua3]

One Headlock, Pretty Please?

(pairing: scoups x f!reader)

SAW THIS PIC AND SUDDENLY I NEED HIM TO FUCK ME FROM BEHIND WHILE HAVING ME IN A HEADLOCK SO…BON APETIT GUYS

Warnings: smut (MDNI), headlock and choking, spanking, pwp, p in v sex

you moan in pleasure, so loudly the echo of it bounces off the walls of your bedroom. to be completely honest, your knees and hands are starting to hurt from seungcheol having you on your fours for an hour now, more or less, but he’s fucking you so good that you forget to complain.

you weren’t sure what has gotten into you, but whatever it is, it’s a bit embarrassing. or it will be, once you reach the big o and all rationality comes back up to your head.

it has all just gotten too much-you finished your period so it has been a few emotional days, and now you are ovulating, cheol has been gone on tour for way too long, the concerts limiting your communication. and on top of that, no orgasm that you have had in the time cheol has been gone could compare to the ones he gives you so you have been cranky to say the least.

the minute your boyfriend walked through your door unannounced, you got up and ran up to him, immediately kissing him breathless.

cheol didn’t think too much of it in the beginning but after a few minutes of you two kissing, your kisses didn’t persist but instead only got harsher, faster and needier.

cheol wasn’t going to complain, but your behaviour was quite unusual. so despite his better judgement, he paused your kiss to hoarsely ask you “what’s gotten into you, baby?”

you whined in response, grabbing onto the back of his hair to pull him back towards you.

“just fuck me already cheol, i’ve missed you so much.”

well, that did it for cheol.

so now, he’s got you on your hands and knees, fucking you harshly from behind. the skin slapping one of the only sounds in your room, along with his groans and dirty words, as well as you moans and whines.

his hands grip your hips and love handles harshly, pulling you into him with every thrust. he grips onto you so hard that tomorrow, when you look in the mirror, you will see the traces of his presence in the form of handprints.

he groans as he feels your pussy squeezing him, your walls pulsing around him, milking him like a maniac.

cheol swears to god that he could cum any second now from how good you feel around him. as it turns out, you weren’t the only one who was missing the other. he can’t even count on his two hands how many times he has spilled hand while on tour, wishing that his fist were your tight little pussy.

as he’s pounding into you, letting a spank or two land onto your ass cheeks, he feels your upper body giving out a bit, your chest almost touching the bedsheets underneath you.

cheol can’t have none of that.

his chest comes in contact with your back, hand reaching over your shoulder so he can grab your neck, squeezing lightly and pulling you back to your full height, the action making you choke up a gasp.

with his lips right against your ear, he whispers “where are you going baby? i thought you needed me to fuck you? where is your insatiable little pussy going?”, finishing with one, two harsh spanks to your right ass cheek.

you scream in pleasure, making a mental note to avoid eyes with your upstairs neighbours next time you see them as you do so. his dick hammering into you, leaking tip repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

while lost in pleasure, your hand comes to grab his automatically, pulling on it. what you don’t realise is that you pull onto it so hard that he topples over you a bit, his hand slamming onto the bed harshly to stop you two from face planting into the mattress.

a bit startled and annoyed at your impatience, cheol’s arm automatically comes and wrap around your neck, your cheeks getting squeezed by both his biceps and forearm from both sides.

cheol groans in annoyance, tightening his hold onto your neck. “calm the fuck down and let me fuck you like a good girl i know you are.”

the headlock, the deep voice, the attitude, the dominance, the dick massaging your walls.

it all gets too much for you, plus the pleasure that has been going on for over an hour now, it all crashes out in a second, making you gasp repeatedly “im cumming, im cumming”.

cheol feels your tight pussy squeeze so much around his dick, it makes him gasp in shock.

knowing that he has a few more seconds of you orgasming, he gets right to work, fucking you so fast, like never before.

it takes him a minute to feel himself close to cumming, his arm still squeezing your neck tightly. you have been crying from overstimulation for a bit now, making him go that much faster.

one thrust, two, three and he’s spilling inside of you, hips stuttering as he tries to reach the new depth inside you with his dick, his cum creaming inside of you and consequentially spilling from your insides.

just as the last moan escapes him, you feel your arms give out from beneath you, making you two fall together into the soft bed.

heavy breathing fills the room, his dick still pulsing inside of you. almost like he had the same thought, cheol slowly pulls out of you and moves you two so you are laying on your sides, the same arm that was wrapped around your neck just a minute ago now acting as your pillow.

you try to regain both your self awareness and your breath, things in front of you still a bit blurry. in the meantime, cheol kisses the back of your neck and your cheek, sweetly nuzzling his nose against your skin, inhaling the smell that is home-you.

seeing that you are still out of it, he uses two fingers to move your head to the side so he can see you. struggling to focus on him, you hum in question.

you boyfriend just chuckles at your hazy expression, pressing a quick but deep kiss to your lips.

not straying too far away, he mumbles “where’s my girl, hm? things still a bit hazy for you?”.

being so out of it, you can’t even properly respond to him, another hum greeting him as response.

he chuckles some more at your cuteness, pressing another kiss to your lips.

leaning his forehead against your own, his fingers that he used to turn your head rub your cheeks softly. a gentle smile grazes the corner of his lips as he looks at you, admiring you in all your sweaty, confused but blissful, and most importantly, beautiful state.

with so much affection in his voice, he just mumbles “my girl…my sweet girl…i’ve missed you.”

you don’t respond back just yet but he doesn’t need your words to know that you’ve missed him just as much.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

On Top(drabble)

a/n: i was peacefully writing my next dolly fic and hyunjin made me feral. that's it. you're in the hotel room with your bf after the concert hehe.

(if you saw me post this twice - no you didn't)

"You've been craving me all day, haven't you doll?" his voice was sultry as he leaned back on his elbows and looked at you.

Your thighs pressed together, a guilty look on your face as you've been riling him up with your texts and suggestive pictures during the live.

"Admit it." he smirked, laying down and looking at you with his eyes hooded.

"Yes. Been needing you all day, Jinnie."

"Climb on top then." he beckoned you with his fingers and you obeyed, making your way towards him.

Before you could sit on top of him, his legs wrapped around yours, stopping you.

"Take everything off for me." he said, his voice low.

Your face burned as you peeled your clothes off, now standing naked in front of your boyfriend.

You noticed a bulge already growing in his pants, making you gulp loudly.

"My clothes too." he grinned cheekily and you leaned down to unbutton and unzip his pants, sliding them off before doing the same with his shirt and boxers.

His cock slapped against his stomach, already leaking for you and he looked so delicious that you almost fell to your knees and took him in your mouth.

"Come on. Don't make me wait, doll."

You bit on your lip as you kneeled over him, hovering a little before you grabbed his cock, running his swollen tip against your wet folds.

"Been keeping that pussy all warm and wet for me, hm?" Hyunjin smirked, his eyes becoming cloudy with arousal.

"Yes, just for you Jinnie." you whimpered, finally pushing his length inside your warmth, slowly sitting down on him until he filled you up completely.

"Good girl. Always taking my cock so well." he said, folding his hands behind his head.

"Mm." you whimpered, your pussy clenching around him, arousal coating his throbbing cock.

"J-Jinnie." you whined making him chuckle.

"Fuck yourself on me, doll." he said and you moaned as you started swiveling your hips on top of him.

He looked at you with eyes full of lust as they traveled from your face to your perky breasts all the way down to where he was filling you up.

"Sucked me right in, hm. So needy for me, aren't you?" he bit on his lip.

"Y-yes, need you Jinnie." you babbled, already gone just from the stretch.

"Prove it. Show me how much you need it." one of his large hands ended up on your thigh, squeezing you for encouragement.

You braced yourself with your hands on his chest as you started to fuck yourself on him, lifting your hips up and slapping them down on his as you used him like a human dildo.

"Yeah, harder baby, I know you can." Hyunjin grabbed a handful of your ass making you moan loudly as you started fucking yourself faster on his cock, the tip hitting that delicious spot inside you.

The sound of skin slapping skin was so loud in the room, your slick coating his cock and balls, making it easy for him to slip in and out as you fucked against him.

Hyunjin moaned lowly, now grabbing both your thighs before his hands ran up your waist to your breasts, cupping them and squeezing.

"Who does this little pussy belong to?" he smirked, playing with your nipples.

"Y-you, you Hyunjin." you moaned, so close to your release.

"And these pretty tits?"

"All yours." you threw your head back, fucking on him harder as you felt that familiar build up inside you.

"Are you gonna cum on my cock?" he smirked at you.

"Yes, oh my god! Please!" you moaned.

"Good girl, cum for me." he moaned too, but you were struggling, your thighs burning and pussy clenching so hard around him that he was dangerously close to cumming too.

"I-I can't." you whimpered with tears in your eyes.

"Need Jinnie's help, baby?" he cooed at you almost mockingly.

"Yes, please." you begged making him chuckle.

"Hold onto my hand, doll." you gripped his hand, his fingers entwining with yours, his other hand on your hip.

A broken sob escaped your lips as Hyunjin started fucking up into you, grunting as his tip kept brushing your cervix.

Soon, you came all around his cock, your juices spilling everywhere on his crotch as you whimpered.

"Did so well." Hyunjin groans, gripping both of your hips.

"You're gonna take my cum now." he smirks lazily before digging his nails into your skin as he started fucking up into you hard, making you see stars.

You whimpered in overstimulation as Hyunjin came, filling you up with his warm cum and fucking it up into you.

He sat up, grabbing your face to kiss you, his tongue licking at yours before he leaned back, smirking at you.

"Just so you know, we're not done yet."

had to do this hehe💅🏻

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust

[enimsiyobeht]

encore! drabble.

mdni 🤍 !! boypussy sunghoon x amab reader. obvious ot7 harem. implied 8th member reader. use of pussy, hole, and cunt as sunghoon's gential. big dick reader. cervix fucking, belly bulge, cum inflation/creampie, subtle breeding kink, minor dacryphilia, minor exhibitionism, unprotected sex (wrap that shit up por favor), p-in-v, minor cockwarming. lmk if i missed any tags.

The hotel suite was quiet, save for the low hum of the city outside the window. Their concert had ended hours ago, and the rest of the group was supposedly asleep—or pretending to be.

But Sunghoon wasn’t.

He stood near the window, still in his stage tank top and loose joggers, sweaty hair curling around his ears, skin flushed with something that hadn’t left with the lights and cheers.

He looked back when he heard the door click shut.

You stood there, calm, collected—older, taller, broader. Still in your black tee, tattoos peeking from your sleeves, looking at Sunghoon like you already knew why the younger boy had texted you “Room 1109” without explanation.

Sunghoon swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “You came.”

“I always do when it’s you.”

That made Sunghoon’s legs shift subtly, thighs pressing together.

You walked over slowly. “You’re not even trying to hide how bad you want it tonight, huh?”

Sunghoon shook his head. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you… on stage. Thought about you splitting me open right after the encore. Want the others listening.”

That made you smile—dark, slow, indulgent.

“Take those off.”

Sunghoon obeyed quickly, stripping his top and pants, leaving nothing underneath. His hole was already slick, needy. You raised an eyebrow.

“Prepped yourself?”

Sunghoon nodded. “Didn’t want to waste time.”

“Good boy.”

You grabbed Sunghoon by the waist and tossed him gently onto the bed, watching how the younger twisted, already breathless from just being handled. Then you undressed—slow, deliberate, until you stood naked above him, cock heavy and thick, already leaking at the tip.

Sunghoon’s legs spread instinctively.

“Don’t tease,” he whispered. “I need it. I need all of it.”

You crawled over him, gripping his hips, and lined up without ceremony. “Then take it.”

You pushed in—slow only because you had to be. Sunghoon’s walls clung desperately, trembling as inch after inch filled him. He gasped, hands gripping the sheets, back arching.

“Fuck—fuck, it’s too big—”

“You took it before,” You growled, thrusting a little deeper, watching the way Sunghoon’s stomach bulged slightly from the pressure. “You can take it again.”

Sunghoon moaned, head tossing back against the pillow. “I feel it in my stomach—”

You pressed a hand to the center of his abdomen, right where the outline of your cock pushed up visibly. “Right here?”

Sunghoon whimpered. “Yes—”

You leaned in, hand still pressed to that bulge. “That’s your cervix, baby. I’m knocking against it.”

Sunghoon was crying now—pretty, breathless tears slipping from his eyes as you began to thrust, slow but merciless, grinding deep every time.

“Too deep—feels so good—feels so fucking good—”

You didn’t stop. You angled his hips just right to drag against that soft, trembling spot inside, again and again, until Sunghoon was shaking under you, babbling nonsense.

“You wanted this, didn’t you?” You said. “Wanted to be ruined. Wanted to feel me up in your belly.”

Sunghoon nodded helplessly. “I wanna feel full. I wanna be bred—just like the others.”

Your eyes darkened. “You love being part of my little secret, huh?”

Sunghoon clenched around you at that—tight and desperate.

“Bet they're listening right now,” he murmured. “Hard in bed, wishing it was them instead.”

Sunghoon let out a filthy moan.

You grabbed his hips and started fucking him harder—balls slapping, hips slamming, bed creaking beneath them. The wet squelch of Sunghoon’s pussy filled the room.

That bulge in his belly appeared with every thrust.

“You’re gonna come just from this,” You said, predicted even.

And he did.

Sunghoon came untouched, shaking, body locking up as his hole fluttered wildly around the thick cock inside him. His back arched, crying out your name, twitching through it.

But you weren't done.

You fucked him through the orgasm, pushing deep one last time and burying yourself to the hilt. Sunghoon screamed as he felt the heat flood him—load after load pouring deep into his cunt, making the bulge in his belly swell just a little more.

You collapsed over him, breathing heavy.

Sunghoon blinked up at you, dazed. “Don’t pull out yet.”

“Wasn’t planning to.”

They lay there, locked together, breathing mingling in the quiet room. Somewhere down the hall, a floorboard creaked.

And Sunghoon smiled.

“They’re gonna want a turn next.”

You chuckled against his throat.

“Good. I’ve got enough for all of you.”

morning after blooper

Sunghoon woke up first—barely.

His thighs ached. His hips felt bruised. His stomach still had a faint outline from where he’d been full all night. He groaned, rolling over onto his belly and immediately regretted it.

“Fuck me…” he mumbled, face half-squished into a pillow.

You, still blissfully half-asleep, reached over and lazily smacked his ass. “Already did. Several times.”

Sunghoon just whined.

He was about to say something else—maybe complain about how he’d never walk again—when the hotel door suddenly clicked open.

“Hyung? You left your—OH MY GOD—”

Jake.

Holding coffee.

Frozen in the doorway, staring at Sunghoon’s bare back and you sitting up shirtless, hair a mess, scratches all down your chest like proof.

“Dude!” Jake’s voice shot up an octave. “You said you locked the door!”

You blinked. “I thought I did.”

Sunghoon just pulled the pillow over his head and screamed.

Jake spun around, shielding his eyes with the coffee tray. “I did not need to see Sunghoon with his ass in the air at 8 AM!”

“Then close the door!” Sunghoon shouted from under the pillow.

Jake backed out blindly, bumping into the wall.

“Group chat is gonna eat this up,” he mumbled on his way out.

The door slammed shut.

Silence.

Then you leaned down next to Sunghoon’s ear.

“So… round two before they all show up?”

Sunghoon growled. “Only if you carry me the rest of the day.”

“Deal.”

tysm for 400+ notes, here's a heavily requested part two (featuring jay)

[flux1563]

Performance Disaster pt 1 feat. Tzuyu

Tags : tied up, kidnapping, creampie, piss, expanded pussy, expanded ass, expanded mouth

Words : 7k

Tzuyu stepped out of the crowded backstage area, her heart racing from the exhilaration of the concert. Sweat glistened on her porcelain skin, a stark contrast to the fiery red outfit she wore. The applause washed over her like a warm embrace, but she knew she had to keep moving. The rush of adrenaline propelled her through the maze of corridors, her high heels clicking against the cold floor with each step. The fabric of her skirt clung to her like a second skin, a silent testament to the passion she had just shared with the audience. She was a vision of unbridled energy, her hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of ink.

Her eyes, lined with smoky shadow, sparkled with the excitement of the night. The corridors grew quieter as she approached her dressing room. The air was thick with the scent of hairspray and perfume, a cacophony of scents that usually comforted her. But tonight, she found it suffocating. She needed to shed the layers of glamour and become herself again. The door to her sanctuary was a beacon of peace at the end of the hallway, the nameplate gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. She slipped inside, the coolness of the room washing over her like a wave. The mirrors reflected her flushed cheeks and the glint of the disco lights that still danced in her eyes.

Her fingertips grazed the soft fabric of the chair, the familiar texture grounding her as she sat. The sound of fabric sliding against fabric filled the air as she peeled off her top, revealing her black lace bra. Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of the costume lifted, the tightness giving way to the sweet embrace of air. Her hands trembled slightly as she unzipped the side of her skirt, letting it pool around her ankles like a crimson puddle. She stepped out, the coldness of the floor sending a shiver up her spine. The room was her own, a place where she could be vulnerable and let go of the persona that had captured the hearts of thousands.

The soft click of the lock echoed in the room, sealing her solitude. She reached behind her to unclasp her bra, the straps slipping down her arms like silk ribbons. The garment fell away, her breasts bouncing slightly with the sudden release. She kicked off her shoes, the echoing thud of their impact on the floor a declaration of freedom. She was Tzuyu, not just the idol on stage, but a woman with desires and fears. As she bent to unroll her stockings, the door to the dressing room slammed open. The sudden intrusion was like a slap across the face, jolting her out of her tranquil solitude.

Her eyes widened in horror as a group of men, their faces obscured by shadows, stormed in. They were a blur of malicious intent, their eyes raking over her half-dressed form with greed. Panic surged through her veins, her heart hammering against her ribcage. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice a trembling whisper that seemed to bounce off the walls and dissipate into the thick, stale air. The men didn't speak, their silence more terrifying than any words could have been. They moved with the precision of predators, their steps measured and calculated.

Before she could react, rough hands grabbed her, their grip tight and unforgiving. They didn't bother to close the door behind them as they dragged her out into the hallway. The corridor was deserted, the lights flickering like a strobe in a nightmare. The cold floor scraped against her bare skin, sending a chill down her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. They didn't say a word, their intent clear as they pushed her through the back exit and into the alley. The night air was a stark contrast to the stifling backstage heat, the coolness biting at her exposed flesh.

A van waited, its engine purring like a beast ready to swallow her whole. They tossed her inside, the metal floor cold and unforgiving. The doors slammed shut, plunging her into darkness. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as fear tightened its icy grip around her chest. The van jolted to life, the wheels screeching against the pavement as it tore away from the venue. Her thoughts raced, trying to make sense of this nightmare. What did they want with her? Why was this happening? The world outside the van was a blur of lights and sounds, taunting her with its obliviousness to her plight. Her stomach churned with each bump in the road, the reality of her situation setting in like a lead weight.

The journey felt like an eternity, the only company the sound of her own racing heart and the murmur of the men's voices. Finally, the van jolted to a stop, and the side door slid open. The men pulled her out, the cool air a slap to the face after the stifling confines of the vehicle. They didn't bother to blindfold her; she knew better than to look around, to try to find some clue to her location. Instead, she kept her eyes on the ground, focusing on the feeling of the asphalt beneath her feet, the grit of gravel biting into her soft skin. They led her into a dimly lit room, the air heavy with the scent of dust and stale sweat. The floor was sticky, and she had to fight the urge to gag as she was pushed into a chair.

Rope was tied around her wrists, securing her to the chair. It bit into her skin, a constant reminder of her captivity. Her eyes flicked up to the men, their faces a collage of cruel intent. One of them stepped forward, a sinister smile playing on his lips as he traced a finger along the line of her jaw. "You're going to be our little star," he whispered, his breath hot and foul against her cheek. She flinched at his touch, her body recoiling from his presence. The others chuckled, their laughter a symphony of depravity. They stripped her of the last of her clothing, leaving her naked and exposed in the harsh light.

The men worked with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine, setting up a contraption that looked like a twisted metal sculpture. Her heart plummeted when she realized it was a spinning sex swing. They hoisted her into the air, her legs and arms bound, leaving her face-down and vulnerable. The rope was taut, holding her in place like a marionette. Tzuyu closed her eyes tightly, willing herself to be anywhere but here. But the cold metal against her bare skin was an unyielding truth, a stark contrast to the warmth of the stage lights she had basked in just moments ago. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the silence in the room thick with tension. And then, the swing began to turn, slow at first, then gradually gaining speed. She could feel their eyes on her, devouring her with their gazes as she was displayed for their perverse entertainment. The fear was a living thing inside her now, writhing and snarling, demanding to be heard. But she remained silent, her mind racing for a way out.

"Please don't hurt me, I will do anything," she whispered, her voice trembling. The words tasted like acid in her mouth, a desperate plea she never thought she would have to utter. The men's laughter grew louder, their eyes glinting with excitement at her submission. The swing spun faster, the room becoming a blur of shadows and light. She felt their hands on her, roaming, claiming. A tear slipped down her cheek, tracing a sad path to her chin. The fear was a cocoon around her, tightening with each breath she took. But she knew she had to stay calm, had to find a way to survive this.

One of the men leaned in, his breath hot in her ear. "If you don't wanna get hurt, just accept it, don't fight back," he hissed, his voice a serpent's whisper. The words sent a shiver down her spine, but she nodded, her body going limp. Inside, she was screaming, a tornado of defiance and anger. But she knew that to survive, she had to play their twisted game. Her eyes searched the room, looking for anything that could help her, any crack in their armor of malice.

"Do you know that the dance you performed earlier was very sexy and seductive? We were all very turned on watching you," one of the men said.

"Get straight to the point, what do you want?"Tzuyu asked without beating around the bush.

"We want to fuck you, fill all your holes," one of the men leered, his voice thick with lust as he stepped closer, the shadows playing across his face like a twisted mask. The vulgarity of his words sent a fresh wave of horror crashing through her, but she knew she had to remain composed.

Tzuyu's mind raced, trying to find a way out of this nightmare. The swing continued to turn, her body on full display, a feast for their depraved eyes. She could feel her stomach churning, bile rising in her throat as they approached, their hands reaching out to touch her. The unfamiliar sensation of their rough fingers on her bare skin made her want to retch. She had never been with more than one man at a time, never even considered it. The thought of a gangbang, of being used by these monsters, was almost too much to bear.

One of the men stepped closer, his breath hot on her neck as he whispered, "If you fight back and didn't accept, it will make you hurt." His hand moved lower, his fingertips brushing against her pussy, the contact sending a bolt of revulsion through her body. She gritted her teeth, willing herself not to flinch. She knew that any sign of resistance would only fuel their sadistic desires. The fear was a living, breathing entity inside her now, a beast that demanded she submit.

"Okay, I will do it," Tzuyu said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. It was a lie, a ploy to buy herself time, to find a way out of this hellish situation. The men grinned, their teeth flashing in the dim light like the fangs of hungry predators. The rope holding her aloft tightened, the tension in her limbs increasing. The swing stopped, and she was left hanging there, the cold metal of the frame digging into her skin. They were going to take her, use her like a toy, but she would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her break.

The first man stepped forward, his hands rough as they trailed up her legs. She bit her lip, the pain mixing with the humiliation. He was thorough in his exploration, his fingers dancing over her skin like a spider weaving a web. Her body began to respond, despite herself, a traitorous arousal that made her stomach churn. Each touch sent a shiver through her, her pussy growing wet with a mix of fear and unwanted desire. The men watched with eager eyes, their hunger for her body palpable.

Another man approached, his hands following the trail that the first had set. His touch was more deliberate, more aggressive. He cupped her breasts, squeezing them roughly, his thumbs flicking against her erect nipples. The sensation was a blend of pain and pleasure that made her whimper. She could feel her wetness growing, a slickness that coated her inner thighs. The men took turns, each touch more invasive than the last, as if they were claiming ownership over her body. Each caress was a violation, a brand burned into her soul that she feared would never fade.

The third man stepped up, his breath hot against her ear. "You're so wet for us, aren't you?" he murmured, his hand sliding between her legs. He found her clit, his touch surprisingly gentle as he began to rub it in slow, maddening circles. Her body betrayed her, responding to the sensation, her hips rocking slightly despite her best efforts to remain still. She felt the ropes digging into her skin, the only anchor in a world that had gone mad. She couldn't let them win, couldn't give them the power over her that they craved. She focused on her breathing, on the distant sound of a siren outside, a beacon of hope in the chaos.

As they touched her, whispered their vile intentions, she felt the wetness spreading, her body's involuntary response to the relentless assault. Her mind reeled, trying to find a way to escape, to fight back. But she knew that to resist now would only make it worse. So, she endured, her body a battleground for their twisted desires. The room spun around her, the only constant the rhythmic stroking of the man's hand against her most intimate part. It was a warping of the very essence of who she was, a desecration of her soul. And yet, she remained silent, her eyes squeezed shut, her mind racing with every conceivable plan of escape. The men laughed and jeered, their excitement growing with each passing moment.

Their touch grew wilder, more erratic, their greed for her body insatiable. Her wetness began to drip, splattering against the cold pavement like raindrops on a tin roof. The sound was obscene, a symphony of her own violation. And then, it happened. The pressure built, a crescendo of sensation that she had never felt before. Her body convulsed, a spray of wetness shooting from her pussy as she squirted for the first time in her life. The sound that ripped from her throat was a mix of horror and relief, a primal scream that seemed to echo through the deserted streets. "Ahhhh," she moaned, her voice raw and desperate. The men roared with delight, their grip on her tightening as they reveled in her forced orgasm.

Her body continued to quiver, the aftershocks of her squirting making her muscles spasm. She felt the hotness of their breath on her skin, their hands everywhere, touching, pinching, claiming. And in that moment of utter vulnerability, she realized something. Her fear had become anger, a white-hot rage that burned away the cobwebs of despair. Tzuyu opened her eyes, her gaze steely, her jaw set. She would not let them break her, not like this. The swing continued to turn, a macabre carousel of lust and degradation. But she was no longer the terrified girl they had snatched from the concert. She was Tzuyu, a warrior in a battle she never asked for.

The fourth man stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic joy. He leaned in close, his breath hot and sour. "You liked that, didn't you?" he whispered, his voice a mockery of tenderness.

One of the guys brought a chair to lie under Tzuyu to direct his dick into her entrance. The second guy stood right in front of her, positioning his dick in front of Tzuyu's mouth. The last guy positioned his penis in front of Tzuyu's ass hole.

The man under her swung the chair into motion, aligning himself with her pussy. She felt his cockhead nudging against her, the sensation of his precum coating her already sensitive skin. The man in front of her face smirked, stroking his cock as he watched the horror in her eyes. The man behind her spread her cheeks apart, the coolness of the air against her anus making her gasp. They had her trapped, her body a plaything for their sick games.

The first thrust was like a knife, tearing through her protests and sinking deep into her core. She couldn't help the scream that tore from her throat, the pain so intense it stole her breath away. "It hurts!" she cried out, her voice a ragged sob. "It's too big!" The man in front of her chuckled, his grip on her head tightening. "Take it, slut," he murmured, pushing his cock against her lips.

Her body was torn in two, a battleground for the men's depraved desires. The man beneath her pumped his hips, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. She could feel the stretch of her pussy, the burn as he pushed deeper and deeper. Her eyes watered, the pain a living thing that threatened to consume her. Yet, she took the cock into her mouth, her tongue darting out to lick the salty head, her body's response to the situation a twisted dance of fear and arousal.

The second guy pushed harder, his cock pressing against her tight asshole. She tasted the saltiness of the first man's precum, her own juices mixing with his as she tried to relax herself for the impending violation. The third man held her hips, his breath hot and heavy in her ear. "You're going to take it all," he said, his voice a dark promise.

Her body was a symphony of pain and pleasure, each sensation crashing into the next like waves against the shore. The man beneath her grunted with every thrust, his grip on her hips unyielding as he claimed her, inch by inch. And then, with a final, brutal push, she felt herself tear open, the pain a searing white-hot agony that seemed to split her in two. The man behind her groaned in pleasure, his cock sliding into her now open and exposed ass. The swing's relentless motion made the sensation even more intense, her body a playground for their depravity.

Her eyes watered as she fought to keep her mouth open, to accommodate the cock filling it. Her jaw ached, the muscles in her face straining with the effort to not gag. But she knew she had to keep going, had to play their twisted game. The man in front of her took merciless advantage of her predicament, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth with a rhythm that matched the pounding of the other two. She could feel their excitement, their hunger for her, and she hated herself for the way her body was responding. Her pussy was tight around the invading cock, her ass clenching around the shaft that filled her so completely. It was a betrayal that she couldn't control, her body's natural response to the overwhelming stimulation.

"Glukkk glukkk glukkk," the only sound she could make as she was used by the men, her mouth full of cock. She tried to focus on the sensation, to find some semblance of control in the chaos. But the pain was too intense, the fear too consuming. Each thrust was a declaration of their power, each groan of pleasure a nail in the coffin of her dignity.

"Your pussy is so tight, like a fucking vice," the man beneath her grunted, his hips moving with an almost mechanical precision. His words were a slap in the face, a reminder of what they were doing to her. Yet, she felt a strange sense of pride in her ability to endure, to survive this ordeal.

The man in her ass spoke up, his voice strained with effort. "And your ass, it's like heaven, so fucking tight and warm." His words sent a shiver through her, a dark thrill that she immediately felt guilty for. This wasn't right, this wasn't who she was. But she knew she had to keep going, had to find a way out of this nightmare.

The man in her throat groaned his approval, his grip on her head tightening. "You're taking it so well," he said, his voice thick with lust. "So deep, so good." The compliments were like a sledgehammer, breaking down the last of her defenses. She had never been talked to like this before, never been treated like this. The degradation was almost a balm to her bruised ego, a twisted affirmation that she was still desired, still wanted.

As they continued to fuck her, their praises grew more explicit. "Your pussy is so wet," one of them groaned, his voice a mix of wonder and greed. "It's like a fucking oasis, taking me in so deep." Another added, "And your throat, it's so tight, so good at taking cock." His words were crude, but they echoed through her mind like a siren's call, twisting the fear into a strange, perverse thrill. She could feel their excitement growing, their thrusts becoming more erratic as they neared their climax.

The man in her ass spoke up next, his voice strained with effort. "Your ass, it's like a fucking glove," he hissed. "So tight, so perfect." His words were like a drug, a dark elixir that made her body respond despite herself. She couldn't help the way her pussy clenched around the cock inside her, the way her throat muscles tightened around the one in her mouth. The pain was a living thing now, a beast that she had to tame if she wanted to survive.

Her body had begun to accept the onslaught, a strange sort of numbness setting in. The swing's motion had become almost hypnotic, a rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart. She felt herself slipping away, her mind floating on a sea of sensation. The men's grunts and groans were the only sounds that anchored her to reality, a reminder of the horror that was unfolding. Her brain was a haze of lust and fear, a maelstrom of emotions that she couldn't untangle. The orgasms had taken their toll, leaving her mind reeling.

And then, as if on cue, the men's pace grew frenzied. They were close, she could feel it in the way their grips tightened, the way their thrusts grew more urgent. "You're going to cum for us," one of them said, his voice a growl of triumph. "You're going to take all of our seed." The words were a dark promise, a declaration of their power. And she knew that she had no choice but to comply.

The first man exploded inside her, his cum filling her pussy in hot, thick spurts. She felt it dripping down her legs, pooling on the floor below. The man in her mouth pulled out, spraying her face with his seed, a degrading finale that she couldn't avoid. The salty warmth of it coated her cheeks, her eyes, her mouth. She choked on it, the taste bitter and alien. The third man was the last to go, his orgasm a violent shudder that seemed to echo through her very soul. She felt his cock pulse deep inside her, filling her ass with his hot cum.

The swing stopped moving, the sudden stillness more jarring than the relentless motion had been. The men stepped back, their cocks still hard, their eyes still gleaming with desire. "You're ours now," one of them murmured, his voice a dark purr. "We're going to use you until you can't take anymore."

Tzuyu felt the warmth of their cum inside her, a stark contrast to the cold metal that held her suspended. Her body was a battleground, her mind a tempest of emotions. But as they stepped back, she felt a surge of something else, something primal and fierce. Her muscles tensed, her body begging for release from the torment. And then, she did the only thing she could. She screamed.

The sound was a howl of anger and despair, a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room. The men looked surprised for a moment, their smiles faltering. But then, they laughed, their mirth a dark symphony that only served to fuel her rage. She felt the pressure building again, her body a volcano ready to erupt. And as she screamed, she did something she never thought she would. She squirted, her pussy clenching around the emptiness, expelling their vile seed in a powerful spray.

Their laughter grew louder, their eyes glinting with malicious amusement. "Look at her go," one of them chuckled, his hand reaching out to smack her ass. The sting was a jolting reminder of her vulnerability, her body's treacherous response to their abuse.

Tzuyu's mind raced, searching for a way to escape. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail. The dirty floor, the stale air, the grinning faces of the men who held her captive. But she knew that to fight back, to give into the anger that roiled within her, would only bring more pain. Her body was already a canvas of bruises and rope burns, a map of their dominance.

The next trio of men approached her, their eyes gleaming with lust. They were eager to claim her, to make her theirs in the most primal of ways.

The first man stepped forward, his cock thick and heavy in his hand. He stroked it with a practiced ease that made her stomach turn. "Which one do you want first?" he taunted, his eyes raking over her body. "Your tight little pussy or that ass of yours?"

Tzuyu's heart pounded in her chest, the fear a living beast that threatened to consume her. She knew she had to play along, to survive. She licked her lips, the taste of the cum still on them, and whispered, "Whatever you want."

The man grinned, a predatory look that made her skin crawl. He stepped closer, his cock brushing against her still-quivering pussy. "Then let's start with this," he said, and with a brutal shove, he was inside her. The pain was like a knife, slicing through her with a cold precision that left her gasping for air. The other two men took their places, one at her mouth, the other at her ass.

Their praises grew more fervent with every thrust, their voices a chorus of depravity that seemed to echo in her very soul. "So tight," they murmured, "so wet," their words a twisted mantra that wove a spell around her. Her mind was a whirlwind of fear and anger, but their praise...it was like a balm, a seductive whisper that made her body respond despite her will. She found herself pushing back against the cock in her pussy, her muscles tightening around it as if trying to claim it for her own. The man in her mouth groaned, his hips jerking as he pushed deeper into her throat.

Their voices grew louder, their praises more intense, until all she could hear was their twisted litany of desire. "Good girl," they chanted, "you're doing so well." And with each word, she felt herself slipping further into a trance, her body moving in time with theirs. The pain was still there, a constant companion, but it had taken on a new dimension, one that was almost...enjoyable. The swing's creaking became a symphony, the only music in a world that had gone mad.

Tzuyu's eyes glazed over, the room spinning around her. The men's faces blurred into a single mask of lust and power. Her thoughts were a jumble, but one thing remained clear: she had to survive. And so, she allowed herself to sink deeper into the haze, to become the creature they wanted her to be. Her body was a marionette, theirs to control, theirs to use. And as they fucked her.

With each brutal thrust, she felt herself climbing higher and higher. The pressure in her pussy was unbearable, the sensation of fullness like nothing she had ever experienced. The man's cock was a piston, a relentless invader that filled her completely. She could feel her pussy stretching around him, the walls tightening and releasing in a desperate attempt to keep him out. But there was no escape, no relief from the constant pressure. And with every stroke, she felt the orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that she couldn't contain.

Her body convulsed around the cock in her pussy, her muscles spasming with the effort to push back, to give them what they wanted. But there was no release, no escape from the tight, wet vice that was her pussy. She felt the beginnings of another orgasm, the pressure building like a storm. But she couldn't squirt, couldn't find that sweet release. There was no room, no escape from the fullness that filled her completely. The man in her ass groaned, his thrusts growing more erratic as he felt her pussy clench around his friend's cock.

Tzuyu's eyes rolled back in her head, her vision a kaleidoscope of colors. The men's praise was a constant in the background, a symphony of lust and power that seemed to fuel the monster inside her. "That's it," one of them murmured, his voice a dark promise. "Take it all." And she did, her body a conduit for their pleasure. The man in her mouth grew bolder, his cock sliding in and out with ease now, her throat muscles no longer fighting him. She could feel herself losing control, her mind slipping away into a sea of sensation.

The man in her pussy grunted, his movements growing more urgent. She could feel his cock swell, the pressure building. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, he came, his hot cum filling her to the brim. She choked, her throat muscles contracting around the cock that was still buried in her mouth, the taste of him mingling with the salty bitterness of the other's seed. The man in her ass followed suit, his cum spurting deep inside her, the warmth of it spreading through her gut.

Her body was a cocoon of pain and pleasure, the two sensations so intertwined that she couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Her pussy was empty, the absence of the cock a strange sort of relief. But the emptiness didn't last. The men pulled out of her, their cum mixing with her own juices as it slipped out, painting her thighs and the chair beneath her. The swing swayed gently, a macabre pendulum in the quiet room.

Tzuyu's voice was hoarse, her throat raw from the abuse, but she found the strength to beg, "More, give me more." It was a plea that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside her, a place she didn't recognize. The men looked at each other, their eyes gleaming with excitement. They had broken her, turned her into a creature of pure need and desire.

The next man took his place, his cock standing tall and proud. He didn't bother with preamble, didn't bother with words of encouragement. He simply thrust into her pussy, filling her up once again. The pressure was unbearable, but she took it, her body responding despite herself. "Ah, yes," she moaned, the sound a broken whisper that seemed to echo in the room. "More."

The man in her mouth took up his position again, his cock sliding in and out of her throat with ease. She could feel the gag reflex, but she had learned to ignore it, to push past the pain. Her eyes rolled back in her head as the new cock claimed her, the sensation of fullness making her squirt around the one still buried in her pussy. The men watched, their eyes dark with hunger, their hands moving to stroke her body, to pinch her nipples and slap her ass. She was theirs, a plaything to be used and discarded.

The man in her ass was rough, his thrusts punishing. She could feel her body stretching, accommodating his girth. Her muscles clenched around him, trying to push him out, but it was futile. He was too big, too powerful. And with every thrust, she felt herself growing wetter, her body's treacherous response to the pain. "Good girl," he grunted, his hips slapping against her ass with a wet, obscene sound. "Take it all."

The pressure grew, the sensation of fullness becoming almost too much to bear. She could feel the beginnings of an orgasm, the tightening of her muscles, the coil of pleasure deep in her core. But she knew that if she came, it would only make it worse, would only spur them on. So she held back, her body a tightly wound spring ready to snap. The men's grunts grew louder, their breathing more ragged. They were close, so close.

And then, it happened. The man in her ass came with a roar, his cum filling her to the brim. She felt it spurt out around the base of his cock, a hot river that coated her thighs and the chair beneath her. He pulled out, leaving her feeling empty, used. The man in her pussy took his place, his cock thick and slick with her juices. "You're going to love this," he whispered, his eyes gleaming with malice. "I'm going to make you cum until you can't walk."

The man in her throat pulled out, his cock glistening with her saliva. He stepped aside, his job done for now. The next man took his place, his cock already hard and ready. The cycle continued, an endless loop of degradation and pleasure. Her body was a battleground, her mind a fog of pain and need. She couldn't think, couldn't feel anything but the relentless pounding of their cocks, the fullness that seemed to consume her.

The men took turns, their praise and taunts a symphony of depravity that filled her ears. "Look at that ass jiggle," one of them jeered. "It's like it's begging for more." Another spanked her, the sound echoing through the room, a dark music that seemed to drive her closer and closer to the edge. "You're going to take all of us," the man in her pussy said, his voice a growl of possession. "Every last one."

And she did, her body a receptacle for their lust. The swing creaked, a constant reminder of her predicament. The men's cum filled her, leaked from her, painted the room with her degradation. Yet, amidst the pain and fear, she found a strange sort of power. Her body responded to them, her pussy clenching around them, her ass eagerly taking them in. It was as if she had become something else, a creature of need and desire, a being that existed solely for their pleasure.

The night grew wilder with each passing moment. The men took turns, their seed mixing inside her, a perverse communion that she could not escape. They whispered sweet nothings into her ear, their praises a twisted symphony that seemed to dull the pain. "You're so good," they murmured, "so tight, so wet." And she took it, her body moving in time with their rhythm, a dance of depravity that she could not control.

Her mind was a blank slate, the edges of her consciousness worn smooth by the relentless onslaught. She couldn't remember her name, couldn't recall the feeling of the stage beneath her feet. The only reality was the cock inside her, the pressure of their hands, the taste of their cum. It was a world of sensation, of pain and pleasure so intense that it washed away everything else.

The men didn't bother to untie her. Why would they? She was theirs, a prize to be claimed again and again. They took her in every way imaginable, their cocks a blur of motion that seemed to never end. The room grew hot, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. The only respite was the brief moments between, when she hung in the swing, her body limp and trembling.

But even those moments of reprieve were short-lived, as the next man would soon step forward, his cock already hard and hungry for more. They were insatiable, a never-ending line of depraved desire that seemed to stretch into infinity. And she, Tzuyu, the once-innocent KPOP Idol, was their plaything, their whore. The ropes that bound her were as much a part of her as the skin she wore, a constant reminder of her new reality.

The men grew bolder with each passing hour, their creativity in how they used her a twisted testament to their lust. They whispered dark fantasies in her ear, their fingers exploring every inch of her body. And she, lost in the haze of pain and pleasure, could do nothing but comply. The room spun, the lights above her a kaleidoscope of color that seemed to pulse in time with their thrusts.

The men grew tired, their seed spilled, but she remained, bound and used. They stepped back, their eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. "You're ours now," one of them said, his voice a low murmur that seemed to resonate within her very soul. "And we're not done with you yet." The threat was clear, the promise of more to come.

Tzuyu hung in the swing, her body bruised and trembling. The ropes had become a part of her, a constant reminder of her newfound role. Her pussy and ass were sore, stretched beyond what she had ever thought possible. The cum of the men had long ago stopped being a mere sensation, now it was a part of her, a symbol of their dominance.

With a resigned sigh, she allowed the next to take her, offering no resistance as he pushed into her pussy. The pain had become a constant companion, a living entity that she had grown almost accustomed to. Her eyes remained closed, her mind a blank canvas for their depraved desires to be projected upon. She had ceased to fight, ceased to hope for escape.

The men took her, one after another, their thrusts a grim reminder of the fate she had accepted. The room grew dim, the only light coming from the flickering candles that cast eerie shadows across her abused body. Her cries had turned to whimpers, her body a limp ragdoll that they manipulated for their own amusement. The concert, the screaming fans, her dreams, all felt like a distant memory, a life she had left behind.

The men spoke in hushed tones, their voices a murmur of dark intent. They had broken her, claimed her, and now they could do as they please. They whispered of using her for days, of filming their conquest to share with the world. Her heart sank at the thought, the realization that her suffering would not end here, in this dingy room. It was a fate worse than death, a life of degradation and pain that she had never imagined.

The man inside her grew more aggressive, his thrusts punishing, as if eager to mark her as his own. She could feel his excitement, his lust, as he neared his climax. And with a final, brutal shove, he came, filling her pussy once more. She felt the warmth of his cum, a reminder of the many that had come before him.

Then, something changed. The room grew quiet, the men's grunts and taunts replaced by panting and the occasional slap of skin on skin. One by one, their hips stilled, their cocks softening as they pulled out of her. The swing swayed gently, a sadistic pendulum that had seen more than its fair share of abuse. They stepped back, their faces flushed and sweaty, their eyes glazed over with satisfaction.

But it wasn't over. Not yet.

The leader, a man with a cruel smile and eyes that gleamed with an unsettling light, approached her with something new. In his hands, he held a device that looked like a cross between a dildo and a vice. It was metal, with a thick, round base and two long rods that curved to form a perfect 'O'. "This," he said, his voice a purr of anticipation, "is going to keep you nice and open for us."

Without warning, he thrust the expanded pussy into her already abused pussy. Tzuyu screamed, the pain like nothing she had ever felt before. Her pussy stretched wider, the rods pushing against the walls of her vagina, holding her open. The man stepped back, admiring his handiwork, the metal bars keeping her open, like a gaping, obscene flower.

Then, with a wicked smile, he inserted another device into her ass, one that mirrored the first. She could feel the cold metal against her anus, the pressure building as he pushed it in. Her ass stretched around the bars, the sensation foreign and terrifying. It was like being split in two, her body no longer her own. The men watched, their eyes alight with excitement, as she was transformed before their eyes into their ultimate toy.

The ring in her mouth was the final piece of the puzzle. It was a thick band of metal, with a smaller ring attached to it. He forced her mouth open, the metal cold against her teeth, and slid the smaller ring over her tongue. The ring clicked into place, trapping her tongue, leaving her mouth open and gaping. The leader stepped back, admiring her transformation. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice a dark caress that sent shivers down her spine.

The first stream of piss hit her like a hot knife, the sensation of it making her pussy clench around the metal bars. She gagged, the taste of metal and urine filling her mouth. But the second stream was different, it was directed at her clit, the pressure making her squirt uncontrollably. The men laughed, the sound a twisted symphony that filled the room. They took turns, their pisses a golden shower that painted her body, filling her pussy and ass.

Her eyes watered, her nose burned, but she couldn't close them. The ring in her mouth held them open, forcing her to watch as they took turns pissing on her, in her. Her body responded despite herself, the pain and humiliation a strange aphrodisiac that made her squirt again and again. The metal bars kept her pussy and ass wide, the constant flow of urine a never-ending assault on her senses.

The leader picked up her phone, the screen a stark contrast to the grim scene playing out before him. He took a picture, capturing her degradation in perfect detail. Tzuyu's eyes widened in horror, the realization of what he was doing hitting her like a sledgehammer. The photo was a trophy, proof of their dominance over her. He showed it to the others, their grins growing wider as they saw the image. "Beautiful," one of them murmured, his eyes dark with lust. "We'll have to make sure she sees this."

The phone was passed around, each man taking a moment to capture the sight of her, bound and used. The flashes of light were like tiny explosions, each one stealing a piece of her soul. The leader leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "You're going to remember this," he whispered. "You're going to think about this every time you look in the mirror." The words sent a cold shiver down her spine, a promise that the torment would not end here.

Then, as if on cue, the phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced down, his smile widening. "It seems someone's eager to join us," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Let's send them an invitation, shall we?" He typed a quick message, the glow of the screen casting eerie shadows across his face. "Come to here, Tzuyu needs help," it read, followed by the photo they had just taken. The message was sent to Sana, another member of her group, TWICE.

The implications of the message were clear. The men were not just satisfied with her, they wanted more. They wanted to claim all of Tzuyu's friends, to show them the same twisted pleasure that they had just inflicted upon her. The thought of her friends walking into this hell was almost too much to bear. But she couldn't speak, couldn't protest. The ring in her mouth was a constant reminder of her silence, the only sound she could make was a muffled whimper.

Her heart raced, the fear a living creature in her chest. What would they do to Sana? Would she be able to resist? Would she become a part of this nightmare too? The men laughed, their eyes gleaming with excitement as they discussed their plans. "We'll keep her until the next one arrives," one of them said, his voice a dark promise. "And then, the real fun begins."

[doujindungeon]

👏🔞 encore encore👏🔞

premise: one wonders what a pop girlie is up to backstage while her fans chant for an encore. would one ever consider she's getting freaked by her f1 boyfriend?

features: lewis h, max v, charles l, george r, and carlos s

contains: smut/18+ content, established relationships, breast/nipple teasing, doggy style, like one (1) spank, fingering, jealousy, stand and carry position, creampies

Lewis H.

"So lovely, was the idea to cut up one of my Murakami shirts yours or your stylist's?"

His voice in a low and soothing hum, Lewis was all smiles as he rested his chin on your shoulder. He was comfortably seated right before the vanity in your dressing room, his joy amplified even more since he had you situated right on top of his lap.

Though while he was content and composed, you were flushed and flustered, shuddering in place as he kept his hands plunged through the big open sleeves of your makeshift muscle shirt to continue toying with your breasts.

"I'm not mad of course. You know I love playing around with style."

The loving tenderness in his brown eyes shifted to a mischievous glint as his fingers pinched and teased your nipples while he spoke. At the shuddered moan you let you, he chuckled and planted a tender kiss against your cheek just before nuzzling his face against yours.

"But when you strut around on stage all sexily like that in one of my shirts, do you truly expect me to act appropriately?"

Max V.

"I didn't know designer brand kneepads were even a thing. I appreciate this newfound knowledge, liefje."

Max's gratitude was soon expressed by a firm yet affectionate slap across your ass, a sweet squeal drawn from your lips.

Having at once been positioned on your hands and knees, you had since been reduced to a sprawling, pleasured heap across the floor of your dressing room while he continued to barrel the thick girth of his cock into your cunt from behind, his sturdy hands on your hips keeping the lower half of your body upright.

And as he thought back to your concert, seeing you seductively crawl across the stage on all fours while you performed one of your sultrier songs, both entranced by your tantalizing aura and the practicality of your alluring outfit, his lips fixed themselves into a cheeky grin as he huskily asked,

"You'll be wearing them for me more from now on, yeah?"

Charles L.

"Come now, mon couer--you've already shown on stage just a moment ago that you can hit higher notes than that."

His tongue clicking in playful admonishment, Charles ran his thumb over your trembling lip while he spoke. One arm was ensnared around your waist, years of training and discipline ensuring that it was the only support you needed to keep yourself upright, even as your knees buckled.

A shift of his wrist had you arching your body, a breathless gasp torn from your throat as your head fell back in pleasure.

"So you'll do it for your fans but not for me?"

The tone of his voice maintained faux-offense, even as he smiled from ear to ear as he happily took the opportunity to plant kisses along your exposed neck. While the hold he kept around your waist remained steadfast, the pace by which he was plunging his fingers deep into your sopping cunt only became even crueler in its mercilessness.

It was as he began to plant the flat of his palm over your clit that he heard the exact pitch he was aiming to elicit, a sweet sound that paired nicely with the cry of his name as he brought you to orgasm.

He laughed in response, offering you a kiss to your lips while he hugged you close, eager to lick his fingers clean soon afterwards.

"There we go, my little songbird: Music to my ears."

George R.

"How long were you in practice with him, darling?"

George's question was posed to you upon his lips breaking apart from yours. While his voice was rather ragged, his tone was composed.

By contrast, his blue eyes were dark and stormy as the bore into yours, his mind replaying that moment during one of your concert when one of your male back-up dancers grabbed you by the waist before lifting you up effortlessly into the air.

Your answer was a deliriously uttered string of details--new trainee from the label--George-- he needed practice before he was considered for a debut--oh my god--only a few weeks--George I'm gonna...!

His lips pursed slightly in thought.

"I see."

And with what, he only reinforced his grip on your ass while he continued to keep you lifted up in his arms. With no choice but to have your legs hug his waist and your arms wrap around his neck, you remained subject to the commanding, possessive fervor of his cock continuing to sheath itself deep into the hot velvety slickness of your cunt.

His lips smothered yours again for another kiss before traveling over to your neck, eager to mark it up just in time for when you would eventually have to wobble back on stage for your encore.

Words hissed against your skin, he then affirmed,

"He may get to be beside you for a couple of hours, but that doesn't change the fact that you're mine no matter the minute, no matter the second."

Carlos S.

"Your flexibility's gotten even better, princessa. I'm so proud of you!"

With his lips cracked in a broad smile, Carlos gave your thigh and your waist affectionate squeezes while his hands asserted nothing short of possession. Hunched over you from behind, he helped you maintain your balance as he was doing everything in his power to make you tremble helplessly.

Teetering on one leg, the other kept lifted and raised thanks to the commanding grip of your boyfriend, you were left to claw at the back of one of the leather sofas in your dressing room.

From the moment you giddily stepped backstage to the cheers of your adoring fans, he had yet to give you any space as he herded you away from your tour staff.

Fueled from weeks spent apart amidst the racing season and your touring schedule, from seeing you flaunt your body with such tantalizing dances in a skintight body suit, he pressed on with driving the full long length of his cock into your cunt.

"These pretty legs, all mine. This pretty body, all mine. This pretty girl--"

Panting out his praises, he buried his face against your neck, his fingers tightly gripping at the flimsy fabric of your bodysuit as he felt himself so close to flooding your core with his cum, his words almost drowned out by the sound of clothing being torn.

"--all mine."

----------------------

these lewds were brought to you by: charli xcx footage from her coachella set and remembering that nayeon got custom louis vuitton kneepads for her abcd mv !!! 🤠🤠

thank you for reading !!! 🥰🥰

still wondering what sort of f(reak)1 sauciness i'll cook up next time 🧐🧐 please feel free to leave any ingredient suggestions heheheh >:)

[gyuwoncheol]

Room Service

↳ A part 2 to 15 Minutes

Pair: Scoups x f!reader

Genre: Smut, Concert!Cheol, husband!Cheol, dom!Cheol, 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: The only thing hornier than pre-concert Cheol is post-concert Cheol. Lucky for you, you’re the only one in the world with an all-access VIP ticket to this immersive experience.

Warnings: Porn with plot, Concert!Cheol, dom!Cheol, daddy kink, breeding kink, big dick!Cheol, pussy drunk!Cheol, cock hungry!reader, so. many. orgasms., quickie sex, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), lots of making out, creampieS, slightly public sex, dick riding, manhandling, pussy slapping (like once), use of color system, overstimulation, body worship, breast/nipple play, hair pulling, spitting, crying during and after sex (but it’s not a kink), dirty talk, use of pet names (my love, baby, princess, baby girl, angel), fluff at the end. Please let me know if i missed something, i can’t remember all the filth. Not thoroughly proofread.

WC: 4.1k

Author's Note: Did I get carried away? Hell yes. is this the filthiest thing I’ve ever written? Could be. Except the other wip I have also for Seungcheol might just beat it. Thank you so much again for the love on 15 Minutes. I hope this 2nd part lives up to it.

Author's 2nd Note: For new readers, you don’t have to read 15 Minutes as this can stand on its own, but it would make more sense if you did read it.

“My good girl.” 

Seungcheol chuckled as he plunged deep into your cunt, his cock pushing through your mixed cum that you so diligently kept in as instructed, “so good at following instructions huh?” 

“Fuck baby, you’re so messy” Cheol cursed, mouth watering at the sight of your stored cum slowly dripping out of your hole as he dragged out his entire length until only the tip was in. You groaned when you felt globs of it trickle down your thigh, your husband’s large hand slowly pushing you down against the back of the couch. You felt him engulf you, his chest against your back, hot breath on your ears, “cat got your tongue, babe?” The man teased just as he thrusted his length back into you, causing more cum to overflow from your hole.

It had only been roughly 30 minutes since the concert finally ended, the boys doing all the post show rituals from changing clothes to shooting backstage content, and as soon as that was over, Seungcheol had all but dragged you to another dressing room, not even saying anything as he unzipped your jeans and dragged your very soiled panties down. Not that you were surprised though, post-concert was always when Cheol was the horniest, with all that adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

You could feel the prominent vein on his cock drag through your walls deliciously as he alternated between slow and fast thrusts, an arm snaked around your torso while hot phrases flew from his mouth.

“Fuck, pussy so tight.” 

“All mine.” 

“I’ll give you all my babies.” 

“Gon’ pump you full.” 

“My good girl so desperate for cum.” 

“Cheol!” You screeched in between moans when you felt him hit that sensitive spot particularly rough.

“Did you watch me tonight, baby? Why weren’t you in the stands?” He asked suddenly, as if he wasn’t still railing you from behind.

“C-couldn’t g-go” you squeaked, willing yourself to form words when all you really wanted to do was whimper in pleasure, “had to… be— behave… fuck!” 

“Behave?” Cheol clarified even though he sensed where this was going. In all the times they rushed backstage in between sets, not once had you moved from your spot, sitting cross legged on top of the large black trunk cases situated right in front of the screen which broadcasted the events on stage.  “Words, baby” he said sweetly yet firmly when he saw you nod eagerly.

“Yes! Behave. Had t-to… k-keep.. shiiiiit,” you groaned, your elbows harshly rubbing on the leather material of the couch after another rough entry of Cheol’s cock, “keep da-daddy’s… cum… in me.” You finished off your defense and you could already see your husband’s smirk without even really looking at him.

“Aren’t. You. Such. An. Angel.” Seungcheol punctuated each word with a deep harsh thrust.

“And all yours.” You punctuated as you looked back at him, both your eyes glazing in lust. The loud sound of skin slapping skin and your pussy squelching at every thrust was unmistakable, the room smelled of sex. The group’s leader was sweating even more than he did when he got off stage, his warmth radiating onto your body as he kept you impossibly close to him, jackhammering his cock in your cunt. 

“Shit shit shit shit..” you cried out loud when his other hand suddenly rubbed fast circles on your clit.

“FUCK!” Seungcheol growled at your release, your pussy clamping down on him so tightly that it triggered his own. He stilled within you in an instant, bodies folded in half against the leather couch, your husband continuously muttering incoherent words as the feeling of your fluttering walls drove him to another level of cloud 9. 

“Yah! You two better eat already if you’re really planning to go all night” Seungkwan scolded in his best mom voice when the both of you entered the buffet area hand in hand.

You hid your face on Cheol’s shoulders, suddenly very aware of all 12 boys looking your way. They were very much aware of what you two had been doing and why you were doing it. In spite of the never ending teasing and playful disgusted looks they give their leader, the members had all told you they were excited for Cheol to become a dad mostly because it meant he’d get off their asses. 

“We’re actually going ahead. We’ll take a different car.” Your husband announced, a gentle squeeze to your hand when some of the boys howled at the implication of both of you going back to the hotel first.

“Really not wasting any time huh?” Soonyoung smirked despite having his mouth full of noodles 

“What? She’s leaving soon!” Seungcheol whined.

“Y/n still has a week left!!” Mingyu corrected with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, still not enough!” Cheol replied. He gave a curt nod to Jeonghan, calling his name firmly as if to say ‘i leave the kids with you.’

“Hyung, seriously, you both have to eat.” DK was next to remind you both as he knows you’re both still running on empty stomachs.

“We’ll get room service,” your husband called out, inching closer towards the exit doors that would lead you to the vans.

“We hope it's the food kind! And maybe let y/n get some real sleep after!” Joshua’s reminder had you giggling, glad enough to know the boys still cared for you even though all you’ve done was hog all of Seungcheol’s free time.

Surprisingly, you had both managed to stay well behaved in the car ride home. If anything, you two were very sweet, your head resting on Cheol’s shoulders as he held your hand through the ride and absentmindedly played with your fingers. 

Even when you had both showered together in the hotel room, your husband did not try to make any advances, he simply cleaned you both up, even giving you a nice massage on your scalp when you lathered your favorite shampoo. 

Contrary to what his members may think, Seungcheol wasn’t too adamant about fucking you all night. He could see how tired you actually are and Mingyu was right, you did still have a week left with him. He just wants to make sure you are cared for like his queen this whole trip, whether that meant blowing your back or giving you 8 hours of sleep, he didn’t mind. 

“Tired, baby?” He asked as he secured the knot on your fluffy hotel robe.

You lazily smiled at him as you settled in bed, pulling him towards you for good measure. “I’m ok.”

“Hungry? Wanna get some food now?” 

“Want you to kiss me.” 

Seungcheol was taken aback by the boldness of your request, not because it was the first time you asked, but because you both have definitely done more than just kissing these past 72 hours. He smiled sheepishly as he climbed over you, settling on your side as his chapped lips kissed your soft ones. You clutched onto his hand on your neck, sighing happily when you felt him deepen the kiss. 

“Someone’s happy,” a low chuckle from your husband.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, “i love your kisses.” Despite the raunchy sex, there was always just something so nice and intimate about kissing your husband. His lips were always so plump against yours and the way he’d hold you securely always made you feel like you meant the world to him. 

“You’re so beautiful, i love you so much,” Seungcheol admired your bare face before sucking on your lower lip.

You moaned out an i love you too but it only got swallowed by the man who couldn’t get enough of you. You climbed on his lap, trapping him in between your legs, taking control of this little makeout session you were having. Inevitably, the more you kissed him, the more your hips moved on its own accord, grinding on Cheol’s robe-covered bottom half. 

You were moving erratically, wanting to chase a high you knew you needed if you were to fit Cheol’s dick again tonight. 

“Daddy, please...” you cried, annoyed that you just couldn’t get to where you wanted to be 

“Please what, baby girl?”

You whined desperately at the dangerously low tone in your ear, “please make me cum.” 

Record time is what you’d call it, the way Seungcheol went from flipping you over to casting your robe open to having his mouth suck on your clit harshly. You couldn’t even process it, all you knew was your throat was straining from how you were screaming his name with how he lapped at your cunt. His tongue licked bold stripes from your hole to your clit before he'd suck the sensitive bud. If there's anything Cheol has perfected, it's his hand-mouth coordination, the way he perfectly syncs his plush lips to suck at your clit while two fingers sink in you and curl to graze that spongy spot inside your walls. It should really have you embarrassed at how quick it could unravel the coil in your stomach. Your orgasm exploding in colorful bursts behind your eyes whilst soaking your husband's face in a mess. 

"I forgot how sweet you fucking taste," he groaned, slurping the juices leaking from your hole. He peeked up at you from where he was, your mouth agape and chest rising and falling while your fingers still gripped on his hair. You were hissing from oversensitivity but you should've known that post-concert Cheol was a starved man. When he deemed he had swallowed all of you, three fingers prodded at your entrance that had you arching your back from the bed only to be pushed down with your husband's free arm. "Stay still, baby. Daddy's not done yet." 

"Fuuuuuuck, " you panted, going delirious from the overstimulation your pussy was feeling. You writhed in vain as Cheol smothered your cunt like a full course meal. When you tried to squirm away, he delivered a slap to your pussy that sent shocks all over your body. "I'm cu- fuck! I'm cumming," you shuddered, thighs closing in on your husband's head. 

Seungcheol chuckled at your state, a proud grin across his face when he finally settled beside you. After pulling back to back orgasms from you in less than 10 minutes, he knew you were oversensitive and just needed to not be touched. "You okay, my love?" 

"Just.." you panted, "Just a minute." 

You rolled over on your stomach when you regained enough strength, and slowly but surely got on your wobbly knees to climb on your husband's thick thighs. Seungcheol wanted to squeeze your bare breasts but seeing as you were still slightly swaying, he decided to hold you securely by the waist. "what're you doing?" He mused while watching you fumble with the knot of his robe. 

His dick twitched at the sight of your lust blown, hooded eyes. "Daddy..." You smiled, god, you were so far gone, "Wanna ride you." 

Seungcheol moaned, hurriedly helping you untie his robe and throwing it to the floor. You salivated at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his stomach, red tip leaking with precum. Anchoring your palms on his chest, you kept your eyes trained on him as you sucked on your tongue before letting some of your saliva drool onto his length, your hand immediately gripping and spreading the fluid along his shaft, thumb grazing at the slit.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, hips bucking into your hand on instinct. A wicked smile crossed your face, delighted with the effect your actions had on him.

Cheol's eyes rolled to the back of his head when you finally let your pussy glide against his cock, coating it even more in your wetness.

"Fuck baby, what's gotten into you?" He hissed as you picked up your pace, grinding his cock against your wet folds, always making sure to let the tip kiss your clit when you move down. "So fucking needy for daddy's cock huh?" 

You moaned when one of his large hand squeezed your right breast and his dick leaked more precum onto his stomach. The sight of you, head falling back and mouth parted, was immaculate. He wished he remembered where his phone was right now, it would've been the perfect photo to take for him to get off on in the future. He committed it to memory as best he could, but even that thought immediately flew away when he finally felt you sink into his dick. 

"Oh my god,” you moaned in unison.

Seungcheol wasn't so sure if he was wincing from your nails digging into his chest or from the vice grip of your cunt on his cock, but either way, both felt like heaven to him. "Baby girl, you just came twice and you're still so fucking tight.”

"C-can take you, daddy. Please... p-promise!" You begged, lowering yourself to take in a few more inches of him. The stretch was familiar yet it still had you squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip. 
Afraid he wouldn't be able to stay still any longer, Cheol took the matter in his own hands, sitting up to bring your chest flush against his, connecting your lips in a heated kiss to distract you from the pain. He still tasted of you and a slight hint of your minty toothpaste. When he felt you relax, his strong hold sank you onto him until he was fully sheathed. You broke from the kiss, head falling back once again at the overwhelming feeling of being so full. 

"Cmon, baby, thought you wanted to ride me?" He sucked on the column of your throat, causing you to swivel your hips. "There you go. You can do it." God, his voice was so sinful it made your insides churn. Another strangled moan left your mouth when his wet tongue made contact with your right nipple, licking and sucking before he kissed between the valley of your breasts, only to nip at your left bud.

"Oh my god, Cheol!" You pulled at his hair, wanting him to leave your sensitive breasts alone. 

He laughed dryly at your attempt but still allowed you that space. He let go of your waist to lean back with his palms against the mattress to have a full view of you. "Cmon baby," He spurred on, "show daddy what you got." 

Choi Seungcheol was simply left with no regrets at his challenge. His eyes almost turned completely black when you decided to fully bounce on him. When you found a good pace, you alternated between bouncing and grinding, one hand squeezing your breast as the other held onto his knee for support. "Fuck, daddyyy," you cried at the stretch, and he could just feel your pussy clenching on his cock even more.

"So fucking needy," he spat, "Can't get enough of my cock." 

You shook your head at his words, mewling when your clit rubbed deliciously at his pelvis and his engorged head kissed your cervix. "D-daddy.." 

"That's it, baby girl," Seungcheol cooed, bucking his hips up to meet yours, "get off on me, ride me 'til you shake. Need you to cum, princess." 

Encouraged by your husband's words, you lifted ‘til just the tip was in before sitting down on him harshly. He continued to praise you and how delicious your warm pussy felt, a string of very lewd words produced with every swivel of your hips. Your face contorted in pleasure and he knew you were close, "touch yourself," came his instructions.

"shit!" You cursed, cumming on the spot when two of your fingers rubbed against your clit.

Seungcheol beamed at how well he knew you, your tells and your triggers when you're about to cum. But what he didn't see coming was just how fast the sight of you getting off on top of him would quickly bring him to the edge too. If he didn’t catch it at the last second, he might have just spilled in you.

In one swift motion, not even pulling out of you, he flipped you on your back and trapped you under his weight. You yelped when he pumped into you, catching you off guard as you were still trying to ride out your own orgasm. 

"Ba-aby, fuck. You're d-driving me insane," he growled, "don't you dare fucking close your eyes. Keep 'em on me." 

Your fingers weaved through his hair, as you desperately tried to follow his instructions. If only he wasn't hell bent on reaching his high, Seungcheol would've laughed at how often you'd train your eyes to look at him every time they kept trying to roll to the back of your head. "Daddy's gonna fuck a baby in you, you want that, princess?" 

"Y-yes daddy! yes!" You mewled, both your legs being lifted up, calves resting on Seungcheol’s meaty shoulders, while he inserted a pillow below your ass. "Fuck me full, daddy, please,” a breathless request.

He folded you in half, planting his knees on the mattress and bracing himself on your sides. Seungcheol drove his cock into you, hitting you so deep that you felt him just below your cervix and you moaned the loudest that night. Strangled moan after strangled moan came out of your mouth while throaty grunts and curse words flew off from his, all this mixed with the explicit sound of your sweaty bodies colliding.

"m-more, daddy! More, please!"  

"Fuuuuuuck, you're insatiable, so fucking tight," Seungcheol moaned. His movements were rough, pulling out of you completely before fully slamming back in and going deep with every move. The sex was everything close to animalistic, you could feel him in the deepest parts of you, consistently hitting a spot that made your brain short circuit. "So needy for my cum, want to be filled so bad."

"Daddy, so- oh my god. So fucking big.”

“Princess, I-I’m.. s-so...close,” he warned, staring at your teary eyes while your hands intertwined behind his neck. Seungcheol buried his cock in you, not bothering to thrust out of your grip, instead grinding endlessly to help stimulate your clit against his pelvis.

"Cum with me, Cheollie. P-please."  

Your husband growled before his hips jerked twice, hot spurts of his cum painting your walls white. His eyes boring into yours and the feeling of being so full only triggered your own release, rendering you into a babbling mess. Seungcheol connected your mouths in a kiss, not caring that you were already out of breath. He interspersed them with praises of how good you felt clenching on his cock. 

"I love you, Cheollie." 

"I know baby, I know. I love you too," he breathed, hissing at how hard he still was despite just hitting his climax. His dick was almost painful in your tight hold, "give me one more, yeah?" 

Before you could even process his question, you were already flipped on all fours, whining at the temporary emptiness. "Wha- Cheol, I-" 

"Be good for daddy, yeah? One more, princess. One more to get you round and full." But who were you to deny your Choi Seungcheol? Your husband who was just as ready to start a family with you like he's always dreamed of. Your arms gave way when you felt him breach your abused hole once more, your limp body allowing him to control your hips even more. He was kneading your ass, surely leaving handprints in his wake. 

"Ch- ahh!" You cried in a silent scream, the pleasure you were feeling just devouring your every being. You could feel the goosebumps rise on you scalp and run to the tips of your toes as Seungcheol pounded you from behind. "Cheollie... Oh.. oh! fu-uuuck." 

He pulled you by your hair harshly, your back flush against his chest, the low rumble of his voice affecting your body, "Call me Cheollie again and you won't get to cum." 

"Daddy!" you whined apologetically, tears freely flowing down your cheeks. 

"There you go, not so hard huh, princess?" Seungcheol teased, an arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cupped at your cunt. "Color, my love?" 

"G-green, daddy.. Pl-Please... just j-ust cum in me." 

"Fuck, you sound so broken... So greedy for my cum." Seungcheol relentlessly fucked up into you, until his pace grew erratic and bent you both forward. He stopped himself with his forearm to the mattress so as not to crush you, but with your muscles already weak, you simply face planted into the soft hotel pillows, drool and tears staining the white sheets.

"All mine," your husband chanted repetitively, stilling inside your pussy as it clenched around him tightly. Your orgasm rippled through you in a big tidal wave that Seungcheol could just feel your slick coat him anew. Your whole body shook uncontrollably, jolts of electricity alighting all your nerves. With one last loud call of your name, Seungcheol shot his load inside you, white ropes of sticky cum filling your cunt to the brim. His own thighs trembling as he finally collapsed on you, knocking out the little air you had left. He whispered i love you's to your ear, riding out his own orgasm which lasted longer than the both of you expected, especially when he just came a few minutes ago. 

In your two years of marriage, you don't think you've ever been this spent after sex, and neither did Seungcheol. But nothing catches his attention faster than the sound of you sniffing followed by a tiny hiccup. He moves up and pulls out of you so quickly that he hisses harshly, but you whine out even louder, causing alarm bells to ring in his head. 

"nooo..." you cry pathetically, your voice barely above a whisper, "come back."

"Baby, what's wrong?" Seungcheol pulls you towards him, eyes scanning your body for any abnormal pain, dreading the next few words out of his mouth, "did I hurt you?" 

You shook your head no, your hands grabbing at his chest to pull yourself closer to him and bury your face in his neck.

"Princess..." he started gently, still not completely sure if you were really okay. "I need your words. Need you to tell me if I hurt you." 

You choked as you tried to speak, voice straining from all the noises you've made tonight, but you were well aware your crying did nothing to comfort your husband. "I'm okay." 

"Was I too much?" 

"No. Never." You assured with a soft kiss on his chest. "So good to me." 

Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief at your words. "Wanna tell me why you're crying?" He asked, moving you both on your side so he could look at you properly, one hand soothing your back. His warm breath tickled your face, as he tried to wipe away your tears with the softest look in his eyes. 

You felt another squeeze in your heart while warmth crept up in your cheeks, both your hands instinctively covering your face when tears pricked at your eyes once more. You mumbled something but Cheol couldn't really understand and he didn't want to push, so he held you tighter instead, leaving kisses on your shoulder as his free hand brushed your hair. He could feel your tears wet his neck and shoulder and he willed himself to stay patient and calm. 

"I'm sorry," you squeaked after a long bout of silence between you two, "am I scaring you?" 

"A little bit," Seungcheol chuckled. 

You looked up into his eyes, wanting to make sure he knows he did nothing wrong, "I'm just overwhelmed," your voice began to crack again at the last word, "I... I just... I really want a family with you, Cheol," you sobbed, your hands attempting to cover your face again but your husband was quick enough to grab at them. His own cupped your face instead, a thumb wiping at your tears as he let out the brightest smile, his own cheeks dusted in a light pink shade. "I really want this to work, Cheol." 

"I do, too, baby but in our own time, yeah? If it’s for us, then it will happen one way or another. Let's not pressure ourselves too much. I don't want you to pressure yourself too much," your husband comforted, "Besides, with or without kids, I already have you... and Kkuma… you're already family to me."  

You were pretty sure you felt your heart grow a size bigger at his words, mentally thanking the heavens you had a husband who adored and loved you so much.

Your moment was cut off by the incessant buzz of a phone and when you looked towards the bedside table to check, sure enough your device was vibrating towards the edge. Picking it up to stop the ring, your eyes grew wide at the notification that flashed on top of the screen, a smile dancing on your lips as you comprehended the app’s words in black font.

"Cheollie?" 

"Yeah?"

"I'm ovulating."

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated ☺️

[smutoperator]

Rookie Initiation

An Yujin, Kim Jiwon (Liz) x Male Reader

Tags: A2M, anal, ass-to-pussy, basketball game, carry-fucking, corrupted, couch sex, (lots of) creampies, cum on ass, facesitting, first anal, full nelson, high heels, kitty and puppy, (a little) lesbian, oil, painal, "small" butt, squirting, tall girls, threesome.

Word count: 5567

Atlanta, United States, March 23rd, 2024

Yujin is truly a lucky girl. One day before the Ive concert, she had a great night attending the basketball game in Atlanta, alongside her cute friend Liz. On the court, it was a big win for the home team, the Hawks, who defeated the Charlotte Hornets 132-91. Off the court, meetings with celebrities like Anne Hathaway.

But amidst all that, Yujin had her eyes focused somewhere else, on a handsome guy distributing the basketballs to the players as the game went on. Once the lights of the arena went off, Yujin made sure to get to him.

"So, my name is Yujin, and I have a concert tomorrow at the arena with my group. Could you come by? I have free tickets for you to meet us before the concert," she said. "Sure," you answered back, a bit unsure but accepting the offer regardless.

On the following day, you entered the arena as the manager guided you to Yujin's room. Meanwhile, she and Liz were chatting. "So, are you ready for this challenge?" Yujin asked the youngster. "I think so; I've never done this before," Liz replied. Indeed, Yujin and Liz dressed themselves with just a bra and panties, a magenta one for Yujin and a cyan one for Liz, nothing else on, waiting for you to arrive as they oiled their bodies up to prepare themselves.

"You really like my small butt, don't you, Jiwon?" Yujin poked fun at Liz, still with that episode of her confusing Gaeul's butt with Yujin's. "Sorry, unnie, your butt is not small," Liz said. "Glad you learned it, and today you're about to see how powerful it is," Yujin bragged. "Come on, spread that oil all over my small ass; let it drip all over my thighs," Yujin ordered.

The two kept playing with each other in anticipation, Liz slapping Yujin's ass as the leader got her legs on the top of the couch in the room while Liz massaged her while sitting on the couch. Liz took Yujin's panties for a bit, warming her unnie up as she ate her pussy. "Put it on my face, please," Liz said, eating her out and feasting on Yujin's meaty clit. "Oh, your tongue is so good eating me like that," Yujin told her. 

"Ready to get fucked in the ass for the first time, slut?" Yujin poked Liz with a little slap in the cheeks. Liz wasn't ready, truth be told, but her unnies kept telling her how amazing it was that she decided to try. "Rei and Wonyoung keep pushing me to do this, and now I wonder what's so good about anal sex," Liz told her. "Well, you'll find out soon," Yujin replied.

"I think you're going to really enjoy it. I see you love to be spanked like a whore," Yujin continued as Liz got on all fours on the couch, letting her unnie lick her pussy sticking out of her thong. "Yes, I love this," Liz confirmed as Yujin admired her long legs, kissing and oiling up the young girl's ass and taking her panties off to massage her tight holes. "You touch my pussy so well, unnie," Liz told her.   As Yujin got word of your arrival, she greeted you with a half-naked look. You were baffled, but at the same time, you loved how pretty she looked. Her body was truly amazing, especially her long legs and her signature meaty thighs, fully exposed for you to see and shiny from all the oil Liz spread over them.

Yujin wasted no time and took your pants off as soon as you got to the door. You were shocked, but just let her do her thing. She then introduced you to Liz. "That's my friend; she was at the ballgame yesterday; her name is Liz," Yujin said. The two got naked from the torso down, letting you admire their perfect legs yourself. You couldn't contain your horniness, matching them as you slipped your cock out, already sliding them between their thighs and slapping their butts, taking alternate turns between them.

"You want us to play with you?" Yujin asked as you kissed Liz and humped your cock between her legs. "She's very pretty, right, big boy?" Yujin asked. "For sure," you said.

"Get on your knees," you said, trying to play the alpha guy. Liz obliged, but Yujin wanted something different, watching from behind as the youngester started sucking your cock. Yujin finally followed suit as Liz started licking your balls. "I didn't know you could work on a cock like that," Yujin said, joining the fun as their faces slid up and down your shaft, one at each side. Yujin was the first to suck your tip as you watched her hungrily take on that massive cock all by yourself with Liz still heating up your balls.

"That cock is so hard," Yujin complimented your turgid shaft as she took it deeper in her mouth. You couldn't resist the urge and pushed it up her face, with her taking your challenge with ease, before letting Liz take it all by herself. "Wow," Yujin exclaimed as Liz not only managed to do it without gagging but pushed her face close to your crotch to deliver the first deepthroat of the day.

You slid your throbbing cock between their pretty faces multiple times. "Oh shit," you exclaimed, feeling lucky to have two beautiful girls worshipping it at the same time as they climbed up and kissed your hard shaft, with you dunking Liz's head against it shortly after. You sat on the couch like a boss, romantically kissing Liz, while Yujin took sole possession of that huge prick.

Yujin's deepthroating skills put you on edge, as she went hard from the start. Meanwhile, Liz was already sitting on your face, letting you eat her needy pussy fully and give her ass a little tap, with her already beautifully moaning as you worked on her folds. Yujin, on the other hand, was such a whore; she was already taking your balls down her basket like a pro and sliding that anaconda all the way until it bulged under her neck.

"Get down on this dick," you ask Liz as soon as Yujin stops her throat craziness. The youngster slides with ease, helped by the mess Yujin made on your cock. Meanwhile, as Liz tries to prove herself, bouncing on your cock all the way deep, Yujin takes her bra off and lines up behind Liz to watch her ride you. "Good slut, already riding that dick like an eager whore," Yujin praises her. Liz and you engage in a fast and passionate fuck, trying to outdo each other as both of you get hornier at each thrust.

"Keep going, Lizzie, all the way down," Yujin tells her, working as a cheerleader for the youngster. "Let's go, baby boy, impale her cunt," Yujin orders you, who pushes up. "Oh yes, fuck, do it just like she said." Liz reacts well to someone who didn't seem ready for the challenge yesterday. "You trained hard for this, didn't you? To take that big cock balls deep in that pussy," Yujin said. "Yes, yes, I did, FUCK," Liz says, screaming just as you hit her cervix.

Yujin kisses Liz as you two keep pushing yourselves to see who pushes the hardest. Liz rides, you answer by pushing up, and the game goes on for a while, but you ultimately let her take over as you fall from the couch and she grinds on your dick with her high heels on. After sitting on the sidelines for a bit, Yujin finally enters the game, smashing her ass straight into your face. "Lick it, baby, tongue my asshole," she demands. Liz continues to moan as she bounces all over your dick, while you please Yujin's marvelous dump truck of an ass, spanking it and already dreaming of fucking it as soon as Liz stops her ride.

"You like that?" Yujin asks Liz, impressed with the way she bounces and grinds on that prick. She had always viewed Liz as the innocent one alongside Gaeul, but little did she know her fellow 2004 liners had already been teaching Liz for a while to meet those moments. 

"Oh, your pussy is perfect," you said. It was unclear if you were talking about Liz's on your cock or Yujin's on your face. But either way, it works regardless. Liz finally took a break to worship your meat, tasting her juices all over it like a good slut. Yujin watched and stared at her as she buried her ass deeper in your face. The two tall women had put you into complete submission, with Liz giving a sloppy mess of a blowjob while Yujin seemed like she wanted to kill you by ass suffocation.

"Let me fuck that ass." You couldn't handle it anymore, slipping away from Yujin's grasp as she got on her knees on the couch, her big butt facing you. "I see you had a lot of fun with kitty's kitty," she said. "But how about you come have fun with this needy puppy right here?" she said, wiggling her tail at you.

You pushed Yujin's wonderful ass up, placing your right foot on the arm of the couch, ready to mount her. If Yujin wanted to be your puppy, you'd make sure to fuck her just like a dog does. You rubbed your cock between her thicc thighs and teased her meaty entrance, but both of you wanted one hole the most, that tight anus of her, which you quickly entered as you topped Yujin, allowing Liz to freely reign on her unnie's pussy and give her extra pleasure eating her folds as you pumped the shit out of her butt.

Yujin loved how you fucked her ass balls deep from the start. She really likes no-nonsense, hard-fucking the most of all Ive girls. The best guys are always the ones who meet the challenge of taking their stallions all the way deep full speed inside her fat ass. You knew you had to be up to the task, using Liz's mouth to help you slide in after some initial dry fucking, sensing Yujin could really get tight and squeeze that dick in a hurry.

"Slip it back in," you told Liz after a few thrusts down her throat, as she lined up your monster dick right back into Yujin's rectum. Liz dove herself into Yujin's meaty cunt as she watched her unnie's moans get louder. You sodomized Yujin like your life was on the line, pushing deeper even with her tight anus giving you a lot of resistance, grabbing her waist for a firm grip as your balls slapped into her cunt and Liz's chin.

Yujin's butthole squeezed your cock so hard that you were forced to stop, using Liz's mouth as a little relief. Little did you know, she was ready to milk you dry. "Put it back in her ass," you ordered, dodging a premature ejaculation straight inside Liz's warm throat just by a second.

You kissed Yujin as you slowly slid your cock back into her asshole, her moaning a lot as Liz increased the heat down her folds. Yujin put one of her knees in the couch's arm, letting you penetrate her butthole easily with one leg fully spread. You gave her some spanks as she moaned with your thrusts and Liz's tongue, sending her to the heavens.

"Oh yeah, fuck, go deep like that," Yujin ordered as the butt-fucking veered into an animalesque turn, with you treating her anus like your fleshlight and her like your slutty puppy. "Spread those legs," you told her, slowing down to let her put both knees on the couch's arm without ever pulling out of her tight ass. As Liz put her head on Yujin's back, you had some fun taking some ass-to-mouth turns between them, with Liz's throat always putting you on edge.

"Gape this slut's ass for me," you ordered to Liz. You could go all day long just fucking Yujin's butt; she was so incredibly tight that each pump gave you a tingling sensation and an increased urge to go harder. Yujin starts howling like a puppy as you destroy her asshole, only stopping to give Liz a taste of it as a reward for helping you.

"AH. AH. AH. AH. AH. WOOF. WOOF. WOOF." Yujin goes from a moaning mess into a barking puppy as you fuck her even harder. Liz gets all the kisses while she gets all the pounding. You push this anal whore to the limit, all while Liz and you treat each other like romantic lovebirds, enjoying watching their little toy suffer.

You finally stop fucking Yujin's ass after 10 long minutes. Even an experienced anal slut like her couldn't handle your nine inches stretching her out nonstop. "Lay on the couch's arm," you tell Liz, who fustigates you with lustful eyes, spreading her legs as you kiss Yujin. "Lick her pussy, get her ready," you say, diving Yujin's face into Liz's cunt as you get ready to fuck your "girlfriend." Liz moans as you use Yujin's pussy itself as a training ground, taking her tight, meaty hole with slow but deep pumps.

"She's already moaning like that, and I'm not even inside her," you say. "That puppy must be a good kitty eater," you praise Yujin as you keep working up and down her kitty. You and Yujin team up on Liz, with her unnie fucking her pussy with her fingers while you shove yours up her little asshole. "That's so tight, I want to stretch it out," you say as soon as your fingers slide up Liz's tiny anus.

"Stick those fingers in my ass; I love it. Yes, Yujin, keep eating my pussy, ahhhh." Liz enjoys all the attention you two give her, getting on the edge just with your fingers and Yujin's mouth working all over her little holes. You increase the pace on Yujin's pussy, driving her head closer to Liz's body. Yujin ends up being the powerful force that links both of your orgasms, as you coat her pussy full of cum while Liz squirts all over her face.

With your cock still hard, you move from one pussy to another, taking Liz by yourself as she's already throbbing and in position. "I love you, I love your cock," Liz says as you start fucking her in missionary. Yujin gets by her side and starts fingering the youngster's pussy as she takes your cock. "Look at the perfect pink pussy." You praise Liz's tight hole as you stretch it out. "Toy with my pussy; take it deeper," Liz responds, feeling very needy of your big cock.

You decide to tease her a bit instead, feeding Liz's juices into Yujin's mouth. "Give me back your cock, please," Liz starts to beg, but Yujin wants it all by herself. You have to take it out of her sight and push it back inside Liz. "Like that, OH FUCK!" Liz says rightly after, moaning even louder as Yujin spanks her cheeks. "Fuck me harder and deeper," Liz demands for more, and you give her, stretching her kitty out even harder than you did to Yujin's ass. Yujin ponders where Liz learned all this dirty stuff. She's really been hanging out with Rei and Wonyoung too much lately, right? These two sluts taught her everything.

"Destroy my pussy, yes," Liz keeps demanding. The floor makes a loud noise as the couch moves with each thrust. You take Liz full force, pounding her pussy with no regard. She really wants to prove herself to be a whore on the same level as her unnies. Her tight pussy squeezes your cock and sucks it like a black hole. But you're ready to try something else now.

"Give me her ass," you ask Yujin, who, just like Liz did before to her, lines your cock to Liz's virgin anal entrance. You are completely unaware Liz has never taken it in the ass before, and watching the way she behaves today makes you assume she would have no issue. Her never-fucked hole is insanely tight, making you wonder how long you're going to last inside it. But all that goes out of the window with just one phrase from Yujin.

"Destroy her ass," Yujin demands. Yujin knows this won't be easy for Liz, sitting on top of her face, attempting to cover any of her struggles for you not to see. "Eat my pussy and my small butt," she tells Liz. "Small?" you asked, confused. "It's just an internal joke between us," Yujin laughs.

Liz's tight virgin ass leads you to start slower, as it proves to be a challenge to stretch it out. She lets out some moans that are muffled into Yujin's pussy, feeling a little pain but getting slowly adjusted. Yujin grinds on Liz's face as she enjoys looking at your cock stretching the youngster's ass. You pump a little faster as Yujin starts massaging Liz's chest. Her moans get more painful, and feelings of regret run through her head. "Rei and Wonyoung are a bunch of liars; this hurts," she thinks to herself.

You get another close call as Liz's ass squeezes your cock, using her pussy as a relief in the absence of any mouth in the vicinity. Yujin senses it and offers to suck your cock. Liz feels relieved as she gets a break to breathe. Yujin takes your cock deep in her throat, buying some extra time for Liz to recover, spitting on your dick as you go back inside the youngster's butt.

Yujin closes Liz's legs, leading to her hole tightening. Liz clings all the way to Yujin's ass on her face as you push deeper into hers. Every pump you give her feels like a shot; one minute of anal penetration feels like 10 hours. Yujin kisses you, still trying to distract you from Liz's struggle. She finally lets you see Liz's red face. "Yes, please, just like that," Liz lies, giving you incentives to fuck her harder. She doesn't want to look defeated in front of Yujin. She doesn't want her leader to poke fun of her, so she keeps going.

Liz would soon regret her decision as you manhandled her virgin anus full stop. "AH. AH. AH. AH. AH, FUCK. TAKE ME LIKE THAT!" She screamed in pain, her face twisting and turning even redder. Her tiny boobs jiggle nonstop. Yujin tries to offer a little help, but she knows inniations can be hard and, in the end, just lets Liz take it by herself.

"PLEASE DON'T STOP. I'M BEGGING YOU, FUCK ME LIKE A TOY," Liz screams, even though she wanted the opposite. Yujin just pinches her nipples. In the end, she knows Liz is doing well. All anal sluts are forged through pain; it's a prerequisite to the pleasure of taking it up the butt. She knows that if Liz survives your rough pounding, she can take any cock in the ass after that.

"I WANT MORE, I WANT MORE," Liz screams. "GIVE IT ALL IN MY ASS. PLEASE," she keeps lying to herself, trying not to look weak in front of Yujin. Her cheeks clap as you pump her even faster. "GO CRAZY ON ME," she keeps screaming. Yujin fingers her pussy to add some real pleasure to Liz.

"USE ME, FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF MY ASS," Liz keeps saying, posing as strong while almost dying inside. Yujin doesn't seem to bother at all anymore. This was the best initiation Liz could ever get—a big, foreign cock that has no fear of going hard. She wishes hers was like that; thankfully, he's a quick learner, and she knows so is Liz. 

Yujin sticks her fingers deep into Liz's kitty. "OH MY GOD!" Liz screams. But her innitiation is done. Her tight ass was truly blissful for you to stretch out. Yujin appears on top of her to be the first girl to taste the youngster's virgin butthole out of a cock. Liz clings onto you. Even though you destroyed the shit out of her, she isn't mad at you but rather pissed off at her groupmates for it. "I can't believe Yujin made me do this; I can't believe Rei and Wonyoung lied to me," she thinks to herself.

"Take me up in the air," Liz tells you. Truth be told, despite all the pain, she does love your cock a lot. You put it back in her pussy and lift her tall, long body up. Yujin just watches as Liz gets carry-fucked, clinging to your neck as you plow into her tight pussy. "Fuck me up like that," Liz says, still numb from the anal pounding she just took. Yujin approaches her and pushes a finger up Liz's ass, making the young girl get even clingier and instantly remember all the pain she just endured, kissing you to dissipate those thoughts.

Liz brings Yujin close to you while still riding your cock up in the air, as you three share a romantic kiss while you clap her pussy hard, flooding it with semen and fulfilling your dreams of breeding your cute girlfriend. Your white fluids spill down to the floor, and Yujin activates her puppy mode, getting on all fours like a dog to lick them all up, climbing up to also lick what got stuck into Liz's long legs. Liz herself then climbs out as you sit on the couch, and she licks your cock from top to bottom, thankful for filling her up the way you did.

Liz's initiation may be over, but Yujin wants more for her. She checks her phone, seeing there are still 30 minutes left before soundcheck—more than enough time to get stretched out, take a shower, and get ready after. Yujin sits on your lap and starts giving you her iconic thighjob, smiling as your cock gets harder and bigger each time she rubs her honey thighs against it. Once she feels you're ready, she sits her ass on your pole in one go. Liz joins in and sits on your face with her cream-filled pussy while pouring oil all over Yujin's "small" butt as the duo gets ready for more pleasures before soundcheck.

"Show me what you have; pump that ass hard and deep," Yujin demands as you start pushing your cock up her butt. You get so ahead of yourself that it slips out the first time. The oil Liz pours into Yujin's ass gets things even more slippery, but you overcome their challenge with your desire to stretch out that tall Korean girl's asshole. "I love watching you get impaled by that massive cock," Liz tells Yujin. "Bet you can't do it," Yujin replies, reminding who between the two is the experienced anal whore.

Yujin moans and barks as Liz spanks her butt, the oil spilling as you thrust upwards, your balls hitting her ass cracks. "Hmmm, bubble butt anal slut!" Liz laughs at her. "Getting stretched out by that big cock like a good puppy," she continues. "Keep going, baby; go crazy for that ass," Yujin says as she pushes you to the limits, her and Liz kissing each other on top of you.

Yujin takes advantage of you getting tired to take control of the bounce. Her endless stamina is just too much for you. Each time her butt hits your hips, it's like an earthquake. And you don't even have Liz's honey pussy to cling onto anymore, as she watches her unnie bouncing to learn a thing or two, hanging you out to dry. Yujin is so insane, it doesn't feel like you're impaling her ass, but rather that her ass is fucking the shit out of your cock.

Liz chimes in to taste her unnie's butthole juices, and soon as Yujin is done, You finger Yujin's asshole to admire the way your cock has shaped it. But, in reality, it was her ass that shaped your cock. "Let me put it back in your ass," Liz says. Yujin loves her initiative and is ready for more as soon as Liz slides it back inside.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," Yujin curses as Liz takes the opportunity to slap her unnie's ass. As Yujin starts to pant, her asshole clenches and makes you cum for the third time on that day, as you couldn't resist her bombardment. That puppy and kitty are truly milking you dry. Liz is, as always, ready to taste that huge cock as soon as it comes out of her unnie's butthole.

But Yujin wants more, sitting on your lap and lifting her legs up, pushing your hands to grab her thighs. The way she looks at Liz sliding your cock back in is pretty telling; she's about to teach her the position that sets the top anal whores apart from the others. "Lick my pussy, Lizzie," she orders as you put her under a full nelson. Your cock hits Liz's right in the chin at full speed as she pleases her unnie, who's now turned into a submissive anal fleshlight for you to fuck until you get tired—well, even after you get tired.

Yujin dunks Liz's head into her pussy as her ass gets drilled more than the net of a basket during Steph Curry's 3-point practice. "Fuck me, fuck me, woof, woof, woof," Yujin says out of breath as your cock and Liz's mouth give her immense pleasure. Liz moves a bit outside to finger her unnie's cunt and let you plow her even harder. As you reach your hands wrapped under Yujin's thighs to grope her perky tits and pinch her nipples, Yujin becomes a squirting mess, showering Liz as soon as she gets her face close to Yujin's pussy.

This time, you're the one who starts barking. You thought you had endurance before Yujin, but her ass just milked you a second time in a row. You lift her legs up, letting the cum leak out of her anus right into your belly as Yujin laughs. For her, the more, the better. If her holes make a guy like you cum so easy, she must be doing something right.

"Good kitty licking all this cum like a whore," Yujin says to Liz as she makes sure to lick her unnie clean, sweeping all of your semen that drops out of Yujin's fuckholes, and even diving inside to get a taste of Yujin's nasty, cream-filled holes for herself.

Your cock is flaccid, but you're so addicted to Yujin's ass that you keep pushing inside just for the sake of it. You know there isn't much time left, so you want to enjoy every second you get inside of it. "Let's get him hard again; I know he still has some left in the tank," Liz says as Yujin pulls out and both team up on your cock.

Liz's deepthroat is enough to bring your cock back to life, as her wonderful singing hole seems to have a magical grip over it. You push her face down your crotch further and further, wanting more and more of her tight throat, coming out of it with a throbbing cock that is ready for more. You then let Liz suck your balls, and Yujin took her turn tasting her butthole as you slapped her ass and fucked her face.

Yujin places her hands all over Liz's pussy with your cock still pounding her mouth. "KEEP DOING THIS, FUCK!" Liz screams as her unnie's stimulation makes her squirt all over the floor. 

"Stand up, baby." You aren't done with Yujin, putting her on all fours as you go back in her ass. Liz helps spread her unnie's cheeks out for you as you slowly push it back up Yujin's butt. "Fuck her like a good puppy," Liz says. "Give me that perfect view of your dick going inside her ass," she continues. Yujin fingers herself as you fuck her gently this time, already almost out of stamina, kissing Liz up top and playing with her little titties. Seeing those two playing with each other makes Yujin a little jealous, so she decides to ask a question.

"Hey Liz, don't you think it's time you try it again?" Yujin says. Liz's facial expression suddenly changes. She thought it would be a one-and-done thing. Initially, so did Yujin, but she started feeling a bit sadistic and wetting herself over the thought of seeing Liz get destroyed.

Yujin went under Liz's long legs as you went back in her pussy, tasting the last remnants of cum you had left there earlier. After some training, you switch back to Liz's ass. Shivers went down her spine, but this time she settled down rather quickly. "Stick it my ass, please," she said, honestly, this time, albeit still clinging onto you for some kissing in case she felt pain. Yujin this time wasn't going to make it easy for her, diving straight down her folds to make her already spread legs under the couch's arm weaker.

You grabbed Liz's tits as you pushed deeper into her asshole. The pain was suddenly gone. Liz could finally understand what her groupmates were talking about. She had passed her innitiation, her second time taking it in the ass, feeling like a bliss that she wanted to go on forever.

"Oh fuck, I love it. I love it," Liz said as you kept fucking her ass. This time, she meant it. Yujin fingering and eating her out down low, you grabbing her tits up top—this was the best experience she could have had. Suddenly, her regret was about taking so long to do it first. For all those months that Rei and Wonyoung could brag to her face that they could do what she couldn't,.

"FUCK ME UP!" Liz screams. Yujin now just feels like a proud mommy, enjoying herself eating Liz's out as another girl under her wing blossoms into a sexy slut. Liz lifts her right leg as she enjoys her orgasm with the touch of Yujin's hands, standing on just one leg as you stretch her ass out. "You're so fucking good inside me," she says.

Yujin pinches Liz's tits as she kisses the youngster. Her body language of kissing and cuddling tells Liz she has passed the test. The two get back on the couch, with Yujin on top of Liz this time, as you take turns ramdomly striking their holes. That manages to milk you for one final time, as you struggle to pick which hole to finish, ultimately giving the prize to Yujin's golden ass that you loved so much, but this time on the outside, as you coat her butt with your seeds, finally running out of cum.

"Lick my small butt," Yujin tells Liz as the young girl is quick to place her tongue between Yujin's fat cheeks while her unnie shakes her tail, serving her perfectly. Yujin approaches you once Liz is done, ending the session. "We have to go now," she says. "But I want you to stay for the concert," she continues. "I'll bring you three more girls to fuck at night," she says as your eyes get brighter in a snap.

Epilogue

The concert goes on perfectly—another sold-out crowd for Ive in their successful world tour. The girls are glowing, but Yujin and Liz are in a league of their own. Still sweaty from the concert, Yujin approaches you after: "Meet us right here.".

Gaeul, Rei, and Wonyoung join her and Liz this time. You feel blessed to have such beautiful girls ready to serve you. After some games and a little warm-up, the five girls are all completely naked. Then, Yujin finally asks.

"Who wants to go first?"

Wonyoung gets ready to start it like always, but another girl jumps ahead of her. "I think this is the first time you wanted to go first," Rei says to Liz. "Indeed, she's quite shy," Wonyoung continues. 

Liz moves in your direction and, just like in the afternoon, slides your huge cock deep inside her, but this time straight in her ass. The other girls get awed, as Liz has always avoided any kind of anal sex.

"Girls, let's just sit and watch; this is going to be special," Yujin said, sitting straight on your face and getting a privileged view for herself. Gaeul joins her to the side as Yujin starts fingering her sunbae's pussy.

Liz rides you with ease, taking it to the fullest. The other girls just can't believe it.

"How did she get this good this early? We have to step our game up." Rei chats with Wonyoung. "Either way, we can finally do a 2004 line anal foursome now," Wonyoung lets her dirty thoughts out.

Just like in the afternoon, you don't last long, coating Liz's anal insides after she rides your cock into oblivion. Four more baddies to go.

"My turn next," you hear someone say. It's Wonyoung. She better finish soon, because Rei is already waiting.

"Look what you did, Yujin—you turned all those pretty young girls into cock whores," Gaeul says.

"I'm so proud of myself for that," Yujin laughs. Indeed, no one is better at rookie initiations than her.

[w4ndal0ver]

Good Old Fashioned Lover Girl (rockstar!agatha x fan!reader)

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: rockstar!daddy!agatha x fan!sub!reader

summary: You find yourself in the bed of the one and only Agatha Harkness, the lead singer of your all time favourite band.

content warnings: drug use in build up, shameful daddy kink, gagging, slapping, praise and degradation, slut shaming, spit play, fingering, cunnilingus, semi-public sex, choking, strap sex, throat fucking, spanking (minimal), power imbalance considering reader is a fan, only read if you wanna be railed by rockstar agatha

word count: 10k, sorry but it is shameful smut, I'm ovulating <3

You could hardly believe the night you’d had as you walked the streets alone at midnight. The concert you’d just been to was the best you’d ever been to, the lights blazing hot and harsh against the smoke that filled the room, neon halos on top of each member of the band's head. The Coven had been your favourite band for years, so when you found yourself in the middle of the heaving crowd, your brain half-euphoric, you could hardly believe who was standing in front of you. 

Agatha Harkness stood centre stage, as she always did, owning the space with the kind of effortless power that seemed too raw, too real to be anything but magic. The Coven had made a name for themselves in the music industry, their sound something darker, more visceral than any other you’d heard and at the heart of it was her. 

She was wearing another version of the same outfit she always wore, her hair wild and untamed, nothing but a black headband around her forehead. She didn’t just sing, she commanded, snarling lyrics into the mic that she grasped with such intensity. Her voice had a honey gravel to it, carrying a rough edge that cut right through you. 

After a while, your brain still awestruck as you found yourself at the doors of a dive bar not too far from the venue. This place looked like it had been standing here forever, soaked in beer from the outside, and stale smoke encompassing the inside. The wallpaper was peeling, faded posters from bands that had long since faded away hung over the top. 

The bar was small and dimly lit, just a few lowlights casting a dull amber glow over worn out tables and booths. A jukebox sat in the corner, glowing softly, though it was clear nobody had bothered to feed it quarters in a long time. Behind the bar, a bored looking man with a cigarette between his fingers was polishing glasses with a rag that looked as though it might be dirtier than the glasses themselves. The air was thick with the scent of old leather, cigarettes, and spilled whiskey, mixed with the indefinable mustiness that clung to the room. 

In one corner, a small group of regulars huddled over their drinks, murmuring quietly to each other, their faces shadowed and weathered. So you decide to slide onto a stool at the bar, ordering a drink and letting the strange, comforting grime of the place settle around you. It wasn’t at all glamorous, but it was real, a welcome change from the chaos of the concert. The drink was cheap, but strong, and as you took a sip the buzzing in your brain started again. You’d taken everything you had at the concert but now you looked around eagerly in an attempt to see anyone doing any type of drug that you could befriend just to continue your high. 

That was when you saw her. 

You didn’t think it would happen, nowhere near a place like this, a dive tucked away from the spotlight, a world removed from the stage. But there she was: Agatha, who took centre stage even here, as if the universe had conspired this moment itself. She was perched on the edge of a booth in the corner, surrounded by a shifting circle of friends, hangers-on, industry types, all vying for her attention as she leaned back, one arm slung over the seat like she owned the entire bar. 

A glass dangled from her fingers, half filled with something dark, and her other held a cigarette, a thin wisp of smoke curling up toward the ceiling. She looked utterly magnetic, her hair still tousled from the stage, her eyes sharp as she surveyed the room through half lidded eyes. You couldn’t help staring, even though you knew you should look away. You could see the way her eyes flickered to the small folded up bill tucked in the palm of her hand. It was all too subtle, like a well worn habit, but you noticed. She unrolled it slowly, taking the time to expertly cut the line on the table, the sharp scent of it lingering in the air to you even from across the room. 

You zip up your jacket, hiding the Coven logo branded across your chest, but you feel your gaze stray back to her again and again, like a pull that you couldn’t resist. She seemed to glow in the low, smoky light. You watched her lean forward slightly, legs still spread, the sharp click on the lighter cutting through the noise as she held up the rolled up bill to her nose, inhaling deeply. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a brief moment of bliss, before she straightened back up, licking her lips with a satisfied smile. Even in this rough dimly lit bar, she looked untouchable, like she could have the entire world if she wanted it. 

As she looked up again, her eyes met yours across the room and you felt your face go warm, the thrill and panic hitting all at once, as if you’d been laid bare under her piercing gaze. You quickly looked down, pretending to focus on your drink, and took a long, shaky sip, hoping to drown the strange tension in your chest. Even as you stared at the scratched surface of the bar, you could feel her eyes on you, lingering like heat on your skin. You laughed at your situation, before downing the rest of your drink, slamming the empty glass against the bar and waving at the bartender once more. 

“Whiskey, rocks.” You say, but somehow, impossibly, she was there beside you, moving so smoothly that you didn’t realise it until she was close enough that you could feel her presence, like a dark star drawing you into her orbit. You felt one of her hands pressed firmly against the small of your back, a strong, grounding touch that made you catch your breath, while the other reached up to signal to the bartender. 

“All her drinks are on my tab.” She drawled, her voice rich and low, a quiet command that made it clear she was used to getting what she wanted. 

“You don’t have to do that.” You protest, swallowing deeply at the way her fingers pressed just a little too hard into your back, possessive in a way that made your pulse race. She turned toward you, and there was a smirk playing at the corner of her lips, a knowing glint in her eye.

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening, clearly amused by your protest. “Oh, but I insist,” she murmured, leaning in close enough that her breath grazed your cheek, warm and tinged with whiskey and something sweeter. “It’s the least I can do for a fan.” Her gaze flickered down, lingering on the way you fidgeted with the hem of your jacket, the subtle nerves you were trying so hard to mask.

“Fan? Who says I’m a fan?” You tried for nonchalance, but the way her hand lingered against your back made it hard to focus, like she was rooting you in place with the barest of touches.

Agatha chuckled, a low, velvet sound that seemed to resonate through you. “Don’t play coy,” she teased, her eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and challenge. “It’s adorable, but it doesn’t suit you.” Her gaze slipped down your form, slowly, her eyes dragging over every detail. Her fingers pressed a little harder, her thumb tracing a lazy circle over the small of your back, sending a shiver up your spine.

You tried to play it cool, shrugging one shoulder, but your heart was pounding. “I didn’t realise you were so charitable,” you shot back, lifting your glass and taking a steadying sip, hoping the whiskey would help ground you, help steady the thrill building in your chest.

She laughed softly, a flash of teeth in that knowing smirk of hers. “Only to the ones who catch my eye,” she replied, her voice dipped in honey, slow and deliberate. She let her gaze linger on you a beat too long, making her meaning unmistakable. “And you, well you’ve been looking at me all night, haven’t you?”

You felt your cheeks flush, caught off guard by her directness. “Maybe,” you replied, trying to sound casual, but the way she was looking at you made it impossible to keep up the facade. “Or maybe you’re just used to people looking.”

“True,” she admitted with a shrug, her hand sliding from your back to the bar beside you, her presence enveloping you as she leaned in. Her face was close, her voice barely a murmur. “But I don’t usually notice them.” She let that hang in the air, a faint smirk playing at her lips as her eyes drifted down to your mouth, just for a heartbeat, before flicking back to meet your gaze. 

The air between you was thick, electric, and you had to steady yourself, gripping your glass tighter. “So what’s someone like you doing in a place like this?” you asked, tipping your head toward the dive bar’s worn booths and the crowd that was beginning to dissipate, leaving the two of you in a quiet, unspoken bubble.

She shrugged, glancing around with a lazy, amused smile, as though the place were her personal playground. “I like the grime,” she said, her fingers idly tapping the bar. “It’s real. Cuts through the polish.” She tilted her head, studying you like you were part of her scenery, something curious and worth examining. “Besides,” she added, “I thought I’d find something interesting here tonight.”

“Something interesting?” you echoed, and she nodded, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Or maybe,” she purred, her voice soft and edged with challenge, “someone interesting.”

She was close enough now that you could feel the faint warmth of her skin, smell the lingering scent of her perfume mixed with smoke. You swallowed, barely able to hold her gaze, feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something dangerous and thrilling. She reached for her own drink, her fingers brushing against yours for just a moment, her touch electric.

“Come sit with me,” she said, tipping her head toward the booth in the corner where a glass, a small mirror, and a familiar rolled-up bill waited. Her invitation was as much a challenge as it was a command.

Your breath caught as she turned, her fingers slipping from your back in a way that left you feeling almost cold without her touch. But you didn’t hesitate. Her gaze stayed locked on you, even as she made her way to the booth, the air between you thick with anticipation. You could feel every eye in the bar turn as you followed her, but Agatha walked as if she was born to be watched. Heads turned; glances lingered, but she was utterly unfazed, her attention fully on you as she slid into the dark leather seat.

The booth was tucked in a shadowy corner, half hidden from the rest of the bar. You slid in across from her, feeling the cracked leather beneath your fingers as you settled in. She leaned back, one arm draped casually along the booth’s edge, her fingers tapping a slow rhythm as she watched you. The tension in the air thickened, like a coiled spring, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were in a game you didn’t quite know the rules to.

She reached for the mirror on the table, her movements smooth, practised, almost mesmerising. With a practised flick of her wrist, she cut a line, her fingers graceful and sure. She caught your gaze as she leaned down, taking her time, her eyes glinting with something wild as she inhaled. The scene felt surreal, like you were suspended between reality and some hazy dream, the sounds of the bar fading as she lifted her head, exhaling with a slow smile.

“You want one?” she asked, gesturing to the mirror, her voice low and edged with mischief.

You hesitated for a beat, but then nodded, feeling the adrenaline humming in your veins. You weren’t about to back down now, not with her eyes fixed on you like that, daring you to take the plunge. She slid the mirror toward you, a hint of approval in her gaze as you leaned forward, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You took the line, feeling the sharp rush as it coursed through you, heightening everything, the smoky lights, the hum of the bar, the way her gaze seemed to burn into you.

“Not bad,” she murmured, her smirk widening, clearly satisfied as she watched you settle back, your senses tingling from the rush.

Conversation drifted between you, each exchange a slow burn, full of glances that lingered too long, subtle touches that seemed to spark against your skin. Her fingers grazed yours as she reached for her drink, her knee pressing against yours under the table, each point of contact like a flicker of static. The intensity in her gaze never wavered, her eyes dancing with amusement every time you tried to play it cool.

At some point, her hand slipped over yours on the table, her fingers tracing lazy circles along your knuckles, the touch so subtle it was almost maddening. You could feel yourself leaning closer, caught up in the gravitational pull between you, until her face was inches from yours. Her thumb brushed over your hand, her eyes flicking down to your mouth, and you barely had a second to react before she closed the space between you, her lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It was fierce, almost desperate, her mouth hot and demanding, like she’d been holding back until now. You felt a rush of vulnerability, exposed and yet anchored by her touch. Her fingers tightened over yours as she deepened the kiss, her other hand sliding to the back of your neck, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head backwards as she took your bottom lip between your teeth. The world blurred, the sounds and lights of the bar fading into nothing, leaving just the heat of her mouth and the taste of her lingering on your lips. 

When she finally pulled back, her lips hovered just above yours, her breath warm against your skin. She looked at you with a raw intensity, her fingers slipping down to the collar of your jacket. 

“Come with me, pet.” She growls into your ear, her voice a quiet demand that leaves no room for argument. 

“I’m not your pet, and I’m not just going to go anywhere-”

“Now, last chance.” She smirked into your lips as the pads of her fingers graze the skin of your throat.

Your heart pounded as she helped you off the booth by your hips, leading you down the narrow hallway to the back of the bar, her hand firm around yours, fingers intertwined as if she couldn’t risk letting you slip away. She pushed open the bathroom door, pulling you inside and locking it behind her with a decisive click.

In the small, dim space, the air felt even more charged, thick with the weight of everything that had gone unsaid. She pressed you against the wall, her fingers tracing along your collar, slipping down to your jacket’s zipper. She looked up at you, her eyes dark and unyielding, a smirk playing at her lips as she began to tug it down, slowly, drawing out every inch.

The moment the zipper gave way, her eyes flicked down, catching sight of the faded band logo on the shirt beneath. She froze, her expression flickering between surprise and satisfaction, her fingers tracing over the familiar emblem. Her gaze lifted, and a grin spread across her face, filled with a mix of pride and something darker, a glint of triumph in her eyes.

“So, you really are a fan,” she whispered, her voice thick with amusement, as she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. “I like that. So you really will do whatever I want hm?”

Her words curled around you, low and smoky, settling over you with a teasing weight. You swallowed, your pulse racing as she traced the band logo with her fingertips, a lazy, possessive touch that sent a shiver down your spine. She was so close, every breath she took brushing warm against your neck, her fingers just hovering there, making it clear that she was savouring every second of this reveal.

Her smirk deepened, eyes locked on yours, searching for that flicker of hesitation that never came. You could feel yourself melting into her, caught up in the heady mixture of her touch and her scent, the unmistakable pull she seemed to have over you. “You don’t mind, do you?” she murmured, her voice a velvet-soft purr that seemed to echo in the dim, tiled room.

You felt the words catch in your throat, but the defiance flickered in your gaze for a brief moment, just enough to make her laugh softly, a dark, satisfied sound that only pulled you further under her spell. She let her fingers slide up to your shoulder, resting there with a possessiveness that made it impossible to pull away even if you wanted to.

"Good," she whispered, her lips tracing a feather-light line down to the side of your jaw. "Because I don't intend to be gentle."

“I don’t like it gentle.” You smirk, feeling the confidence hit you as her hands roamed your clothed skin. This seemed to rile Agatha up to the highest degree, her hand grasping your jaw, tilting your head roughly upwards, her thumb pressing against your bottom lip before her lips collided with yours again, her hands obsessed with wrapping themselves in your hair and pulling you about and into the positions she wanted your mouth in. 

She angled your head to just the right position, her lips moving against yours with a confidence that left no room for hesitation. Every motion was a reminder of exactly who was in control, and somehow, that only made your pulse race harder.

The roughness of her touch sent a thrill through you, her nails grazing your scalp as she pulled you even closer, moulding you to her with an urgency that left you dizzy. The cool tile pressed against your back, grounding you, a sharp contrast to the heat building between you. Her thumb swept over your bottom lip again, lingering there for a tantalising moment before she deepened the kiss, taking exactly what she wanted. You felt her smile against your mouth, a sly, knowing curve, as though she was savouring every bit of control she held over you.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes roamed over you, dark and pleased, her lips curled in that signature smirk. "There’s a good little girl," she murmured, her voice low and taunting, her gaze raking over you like she was cataloguing every response, every tell. Her fingers stayed buried in your hair, keeping you close, her eyes searching yours, relishing in the effect she had on you.

"Not so cocky now, are you?" she teased, her voice edged with satisfaction as she took in your slightly dazed expression. "Let’s see if you’re still this bold by the time I’m done with you."

“Please Agatha.” You couldn’t believe those words were tumbling from messy lips as your chin covered in her saliva, the way she kissed was rougher than anything you’d ever experienced before and each brush of her lips against your neck sent chills to your core and you could feel your arousal pooling at the cloth of your sheer underwear.

Agatha’s smirk widened, her eyes glinting with wicked amusement as she ran her thumb over your swollen lower lip, silencing any further plea with a dark satisfaction. “Begging already?” she murmured, her voice a low, sultry taunt that only made the heat pooling in your core throb harder. Her grip on you was firm, unyielding, her fingers tangling through your hair with a control that left you feeling both held and exposed. She tilted your head back slightly, her lips grazing your neck in maddening, fleeting touches, each one calculated, leaving you breathless.

“Patience,” she whispered, dragging her thumb down over your chin, tracing a line through the glisten of her own lingering kiss. “I need to know what I’m working with.” Her lips ghosted over your collarbone, her hands roaming, exploring, as if mapping out every sensitive inch with deliberate care. Each press of her fingers was possessive, each touch purposeful, a silent reminder of the control she had over you.

You swallowed, chest heaving, trying to keep up with her pace, her confidence, the edge in her gaze that promised you were just getting started. She seemed to drink in your reactions, her smirk only deepening as her lips moved back up to your ear, her breath hot against your skin.

“You don’t disappoint so far,” she purred, her voice low, wicked, as her fingers traced over the thin fabric clinging to your hips, teasing just enough to make you ache for more. “But let’s see if you can keep up with me, hmm?”

“I can, I will.” Your voice is laced with desperation, her lips cutting you off again, the burning sensation that spread across your entire body as she pressed you harder into the wall.

“So desperate to please, you’re ticking all the boxes.” Agatha hums, her lips grazing your ear lobe before biting down hard, eliciting a sharp moan from your lips as your head falls back against the tiles, “Such pretty noises, god you might be perfect.” Even that allowed for another moan to fall from your lips.

A dark, satisfied glint lit up Agatha’s gaze as she took in every sound, every tremble that escaped you. Her teeth dragged down the curve of your neck, marking her path with enough force to make your breath hitch, as if staking her claim on each inch of your skin. The pressure of her body kept you pressed against the wall, her hands never leaving you, roaming with a practised assurance that left no room for doubt, she knew exactly the effect she was having on you.

She pulled back just enough to watch your reaction, the intensity in her eyes searing into you. Her fingers traced slow, tantalising circles over the thin barrier of fabric at your hips, her smirk widening as she watched you bite your lip, barely able to stifle another moan. “I think I quite like you like this,” she murmured, her voice a velvet drawl, “all needy, waiting on me.”

Her lips found yours again, rough and consuming, a heady mix of possession and challenge as if daring you to keep up with her relentless pace. The kiss left you dizzy, her hands tightening around you, pulling you in closer until there was nothing between you but the heat and tension building with every breath.

“Tell me,” she whispered, her tone teasing, her thumb pressing firmly against your jaw to hold you there, “how long have you thought about this, hmm? Standing there in my crowd, wishing you were closer, wishing you could have this?” Her words were low and knowing, stoking the fire that was already blazing through you, her mouth grazing the edge of your jaw, her breath warm against your skin.

She didn’t need you to answer. The truth was written all over you, and from the look in her eyes, she was revelling in every moment of watching you unravel. “On your knees pet, now.” 

Her eyes held yours, sharp and unwavering, a quiet but unmistakable demand as her fingers traced down your jaw, guiding you downward with a touch that was both gentle and unrelenting. Heart pounding, you sank to your knees, feeling the rough tile beneath you as Agatha’s smirk deepened, satisfaction flickering across her face like she’d been waiting for this moment all night.

She took her time, savouring each second, watching with dark amusement as you settled, as though you were exactly where she’d intended you to be all along. Her hand stayed on your jaw, firm but caressing, fingers brushing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. Her thumb traced your cheek, slow and deliberate, her gaze warm with both pride and anticipation.

“There we go,” she murmured, her voice a low hum that washed over you, making you feel completely at her mercy. She tilted her head, studying you like a masterpiece she was in the midst of creating, her smirk widening as she took in your flushed cheeks, the way you looked up at her, completely caught in her orbit.

“You look good like this,” she mused, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip, her fingers tilting your head up just enough to meet her gaze. “Desperate, willing, exactly as I imagined.” Her eyes glittered with satisfaction, and she leaned down, her lips ghosting over yours in a barely-there kiss, keeping you aching for more. “Now,” she whispered, a wicked glint in her eye as she leaned back, “show me just how much of a fan you really are.” As she said this, her fingers were unbuckling the gold belt that kept her flowing trousers up. 

You decided to take some initiative, your hands reaching up the back of her thighs, grabbing her ass with two firm handfuls before slowly pulling her trousers down her legs, placing kisses along the length of her skin, your hands trembling as she stepped out of the leg holes. 

Her smirk deepened as she watched you, clearly relishing every moment of control and every tremor that ran through your fingers as you traced her skin. The dim light cast shadows over her, adding to her untouchable aura, but here she was, letting you peel away the layers. Your lips brushed her thigh, feather-light, trailing upward as you took your time, savouring the feel of her beneath your hands. She hummed in approval, a low, satisfied sound that sent a thrill through you, her fingers tangling into your hair to guide you exactly where she wanted.

She pressed herself against you, one leg between your knees, steadying you with a possessive hand at the nape of your neck. Her grip tightened, firm yet teasing, as though she were testing your resolve, testing just how far you’d go to please her. Each kiss, each touch, seemed to stoke the fire between you both, her gaze dark and knowing as you looked up at her, taking in the raw, magnetic presence that she commanded so effortlessly.

“Keep going,” she murmured, her voice low, dripping with authority, as she looked down at you with that signature smirk. “Show me that you’re worth taking home.” The words were laced with challenge, her tone daring, yet there was an undeniable hint of satisfaction in her eyes, as if she’d known all along you’d be here, right in her hands. 

In the rush of her impatience, she pulled her lilac underwear down, stepping out of them and putting them in her pocket, pressing her leg between yours, putting pressure against the heat of your core in a gesture of getting you to hurry up. You looked up at her cunt, your hand reaching up to touch her but she batted your hand away, grabbing your hair and pushing your face towards her. You obliged immediately, the grip she had within your hair way too strong to disobey her. 

You sweeped your tongue through her folds, sliding gracefully across her glistening skin, with the first contact her grip tightened in your hair and you moaned deeply into her cunt as she placed her other leg over your shoulder, allowing for you to get the best angle. You couldn’t help but devour her, the clear view of her pussy reacting to every breath you took near her, lying your flat tongue against her entire slit, feeling her hips slip underneath you, finally gaining a level of contact that made her weak in the knees. 

Her light groans against your tongue quickened as you dragged your tongue from her entrance, encircling her clit with sharp strokes that made her grip tighten as you heard a thump from where her other hand fell against the wall, holding herself up. You took her clit between your lips, sucking gently which made her gasp in a way that surprised even Agatha herself. 

You were eagerly watching and feeling for her body to react positively to each new way you swiped your tongue against her clit, wanting to remember how you made her tremble beneath your mouth. You wanted to know what made her grip your hair tighter, more desperate for your tongue to drive her into that desperate release that you didn’t think she was expecting from a bar goer that she’d dragged into the bathroom. 

Her hips started to grind against your tongue, her low groans sometimes slipping into sharp moans, but once you hardened your muscle against her clit, she groaned a list of expletives for anyone in the entire bar to hear that sent a rush of arousal to your already dripping core. The way her leg was wrapped around your body, gripping your body closer to her cunt, not letting you pull away even if you wanted to.  

You continued your movements and there she was, moans tumbling from her lips as her climax reached its peak, her breathy groans forcing you to push away the feeling of your jaw beginning to clamp up, but there was no way you were going to stop now with her hips uncontrollably bucking against your mouth, her arousal lacing your lips and seeping in against your tastebuds. 

You continued light gentle circles until Agatha removed her leg that was tightly wrapped around you. She looked down at you, her eyes saying everything without her needing to speak a word. You knew you looked irresistible to her, she wasn’t expecting you to make her cum in the bar's bathroom, you got the feeling she wanted to humiliate you when you couldn’t, but you showed her. Her thumb stroked your lip, your face covered in her glistening arousal. She prised your lips open, allowing a long string of saliva to fall from her lips and land against your worked out tongue. You immediately swallowed, your mouth still open and she couldn’t help but smirk down at you. 

“Well you’re an experienced whore aren’t you.” She said and your immediate nod told her everything she needed to know, she needed to take you home. She grabbed her trousers off the floor, slipping back inside of them quickly, grabbing you by your hair and guiding you off your knees. She captured you in another kiss, “You’re coming with me, I need to use you like you deserve.” You whined into Agatha’s lips, nodding desperately as you could feel your own arousal leaking from your underwear. “You’d like that wouldn’t you pet.” 

“Please Agatha.” That was all you needed to say, she pinched your hardened nipple that had suddenly arisen through your Coven t-shirt and you groaned in desperation as she led you out of the bathroom and immediately out of the bar. 

As soon as the cool night air hits you, the taste of Agatha still on your lips as her driver turns the corner and stops right in front of you. The car was massive, its sleek black exterior gleaming under the dim street lights as the door swung open. Agatha’s driver gave a polite nod, allowing you to step inside. The interior was everything you’d expect, rich leather seats, polished wood accents, and soft lighting that gave the whole cabin a warm, intimate glow.

Agatha’s presence was magnetic as she followed you into the car, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. She slid into the seat next to you, her hand resting briefly on your leg before she reached for the partition, smoothly lowering it with a subtle press of a button. The car’s low hum enveloped you both in a private space, shutting out the outside world.

She leaned back, her eyes glinting with amusement as she studied you. “Comfy?” Her voice was smooth, like velvet, making your skin tingle.

You nodded, trying to calm the rush of emotions swirling inside you. Agatha’s presence was overwhelming, and being this close, in the intimate confines of the car, only made everything feel more intense.

The car began to move and Agatha lent forward, shutting the divider between your section and the drivers, unclicking your seatbelt with a chuckle. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap.” You swallow in shock at the title she’d crowned herself, not that you were complaining. You shuffle off of your seat, straddling over her lap, burying your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. She smelt like smoke covered in vanilla, a smell that you couldn’t help but need. 

You were wearing a short black skirt, your Coven t-shirt still on show, now directly in Agatha’s eyeline as her hands fell to your bare thighs. You arched your back into her touch as you kept your head against her shoulder. You could feel how desperate you were, your legs being spread over her lap constantly reminding you of how your arousal was dripping down your thighs. 

“I need you Daddy.” You whimper into her ear, sucking lightly against her earlobe. You were trying to pull on every one of her strings, you’d imagined this moment in your head for years, ever since you heard her first song. You never thought you’d ever be sitting on her lap in the back of her car, so you weren’t going to pass up on the opportunity. 

“Oh I know you do, pet.” Agatha grins, her palm cupping your clothed cunt, licking her bottom lip at the damp fabric. You whimper at the slight contact, unconsciously grinding your hips against her hand. “Behave.” You comply, stilling your hips and allowing for her finger to push your underwear to the side, just the tip of her finger grazing your arousal. She isn’t prepared to do much more, just gently allowing your arousal to seep into her skin, letting you get used to not getting what you want. 

After a few more minutes of relentless teasing, the car pulls up to the entrance of her estate. The mansion looms in front of you, a towering structure bathed in soft light, the large windows reflecting the night sky. The grand, wrought-iron gates open slowly, and the driver steers the car down the long, winding driveway. 

“You have a beautiful house.” You say, awestruck at the sight of it. 

“Thank you,” Agatha replies, her voice as cool and controlled as always, though there’s a flicker of pride in her eyes. She watches you with a knowing expression. “ I take care of it, and those who walk through its doors.”

The car stops at the front steps, and as the engine quiets, you can hear the sound of crickets in the distance, adding an eerie but peaceful touch to the atmosphere. You’re still trying to process the vastness of the estate, the grandeur of the house—its stone pillars, the delicate arches of the windows, and the perfectly manicured gardens that line the path.

Before you can say another word, the door opens, and Agatha steps out of the car, her coat billowing around her. She doesn’t look back, but her posture is commanding, as though she knows exactly how you’re looking at her.

“You coming?” she asks, her voice low and smooth.

You quickly follow her, stepping out onto the cold marble steps, your breath visible in the night air. Agatha walks ahead, her heels clicking on the stone as she leads you to the massive oak doors. The faint scent of something floral lingers in the air as she opens the door with a practised ease, and the interior of her home is revealed.

Rich tapestries hang from the walls, the faint glow of candlelight illuminating the elegant furniture, casting shadows that dance across the room. It’s opulent, but in a way that feels lived-in, comfortable, inviting.

She turns to face you as she closes the door behind you, her lips curling into a slow, amused smile. Agatha steps toward you, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she stops just in front of you. The temperature seems to rise just slightly, the intensity of her gaze holding you captive. She lifts a hand, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, her fingers grazing your skin with a touch that feels like it could set you alight.

"This way," she murmurs, her voice smooth, yet carrying a subtle authority. She walks toward the door at the far end of the hallway, her heels clicking softly against the floor before she opens it with a graceful motion.

The room she reveals is everything you'd expect and more, a serene, almost ethereal space. The soft, golden light from a chandelier above illuminates the room, casting warm shadows across the floor and highlighting the luxurious details of the décor. The walls are lined with plush velvet curtains in deep, rich tones, and the polished wood floors gleam beneath the thick, patterned rug that stretches across the room.

In the centre of it all stands a grand four-poster bed, its towering wooden pillars reaching toward the ceiling. The bed is draped in luxurious linens, plush, silken sheets in shades of deep cream and gold that shimmer slightly in the soft lighting. The canopy above is sheer, cascading down in delicate folds, adding an almost dreamlike quality to the space. The posts are intricately carved, their designs subtle but elegant, giving the bed an air of grandeur without being overwhelming.

A large vanity mirror stands across from the bed, its surface covered with a scattering of perfume bottles, fine brushes, and a few other personal items.  Agatha stands by the window for a moment, her figure framed by the soft light pouring in from outside. Then, with a slight glance over her shoulder, she turns to face you, her lips curling into a slow, confident smile.

"Make yourself at home," she says, her voice laced with both invitation and command. You try to listen to her order, perching yourself on the bed. “By that I mean strip.” The soft light from the window creates a halo around her, enhancing her presence as she stands across from you.

There’s no mistaking the implication in her voice. She watches as you slowly take in the room, the elegance of it, the softness of the bed beneath you, yet the quiet authority in her gaze makes you feel almost like an open book.

You hesitate for only a moment before standing, feeling the subtle weight of her eyes as you begin to unbutton your jacket, the fabric slipping from your shoulders. Each movement seems deliberate, and yet, there's a strange sense of freedom in it as you follow her quiet, unspoken guidance.

Agatha watches you silently, her eyes never leaving yours as she steps closer, the distance between you two narrowing. She reaches out, her hand brushing against your arm lightly, the touch almost reassuring in its gentleness, yet it carries an unspoken promise that makes your heart race just a little faster.

"Relax," she murmurs, as her presence seems to fill the room even more, her every movement calm, but purposeful.

You glance back at her, a slight tension still present in the air, but there's an unspoken understanding that whatever this moment brings, it's going to be entirely on her terms. And somehow, that feels just right.

“Let me help you.” Agatha’s voice is low, almost like a murmur, but it carries weight, pulling your attention completely. She steps closer, the subtle click of her heels on the floor the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. Her presence fills the space, each step deliberate, each movement calculated, yet graceful. You can’t help but be drawn to her, the way she commands the room without a word.

She stops just in front of you, her eyes locking onto yours, searching, reading you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. Her hand lifts slowly, fingers brushing lightly against your wrist, as if testing your reaction. Her touch is soft but firm, a clear signal that she’s in control, but she’s patient, letting you decide how to respond.

"Let me help you," she repeats, her words steady and calm, but there's an underlying edge to them, a subtle demand you can’t ignore. She unbuttons your skirt, yanking it down quickly, leaving you in nothing but the band tee and your soaked underwear, a sight that was making Agatha drool all over you. 

You cross your arms over your shirt, reaching the hem before trying to reach it over your head. She stops you, grabbing your wrists. You cock your eyebrow at her refusal to remove her band's logo from your chest. “You want me to keep it on?”

She holds your wrists firmly, her eyes never leaving yours. The air between you feels charged, thick with unspoken words and a subtle challenge. Her grip is forceful, just enough to let you know she's in control. Her lips curl into a slight smile, almost teasing, as if she’s waiting for you to respond.

"Is that a problem?" she asks, her tone soft but with an edge that makes you wonder if she's testing your limits.

You stand there, caught between defiance and curiosity, feeling her presence loom larger with every passing second. You shake your head, her grip on your wrists never loosening. You look up at her, knowingly allowing your desperation to seep through your pupils as they lock with hers. 

“Come on, you've got work to do.” She smirks at you, laughing in the face of your desperation to be touched by her.

“What work?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed, not quite getting on the same wavelength as the older rockstar. 

“What work?” She mocked, her finger tracing your jaw, “You give me another orgasm and I’ll fuck you, make you cry, work you out until you’re begging me to stop.” She orders and you gulp in nervous anticipation. 

“I can do that for you.” You say, silence falling again and for a moment she expected you to turn and run away, but you didn’t. You stayed still, wanting so desperately to please her. 

“Good, c’mon then pet.” She gets herself on the bed, trousers removed in the process, her shirt unbuttoned allowing you to see the outline of her cleavage. She rested her back against the headboard and you weren’t prepared to waste any time. 

You shifted yourself across the bed, kneeling down in front of her. For the first time she wasn’t looking at you but instead straight in front of her. In curiosity, you turn to see what she was looking at, to which you saw the reflection of your ass in the mirror that she was looking directly into. You turn and purposefully arch your back lower so she could get a better view. 

Your lips gravitate back towards her inner thighs, her underwear had already been removed in the bar bathroom, but she wasn’t appreciative of your teasing judging by her hand on your head. In response, your tongue grazed her clit and a moan left her lips as you looked back up at her.   

“That's a good girl, show Daddy how good that tongue of yours is.” She orders through panting breaths as you hum against her cunt, making her squirm slightly beneath your mouth. You were determined to make her cum quicker than before, one hand slipping between your body and hers as you spread her lips apart giving yourself more room to work with. Her moan that escaped was much louder this time, a sound that was doing nothing but doubling the arousal between your own legs. 

“You’re getting Daddy close, pretty girl.” 

“Already, god I must be really impressing you.” You smirk against her folds and she delivers a quick and sharp slap to your ass, making your body fall against her. 

“Three strikes and you’re done.” She warns, your whimper ricocheting around the room, her spank leaving a harsh bright red mark. 

You were gasping desperately against her pussy, the vibrations of your humming rippling through her body as you could feel all the muscles touching you tense. This was a moment of confidence surging through you as you continued to move your tongue in the same tangled circles that were driving her crazy beneath you. You began to make sloppier movements with your tongue, allowing her to hear the way your tongue moved gracefully against her folds. 

“Oh fuck baby, you’re gonna make me-” She curses, a hand flying into your hair, gripping tightly as she grinded down on your face as her orgasm ripped harshly through her body, her entire body convulsing beneath you.

It didn’t take her long to recover, she pulled your head up and admired your skin, glistening with her arousal and it was a picture perfect image that was forever branded in her brain. You hum into a gentle kiss, her lips gently touching yours in an attempt to not remove any of her fluids from your face, wanting to see you drowning in her wetness. She brings her hand up to the base of your throat, grasping around you tightly making you dizzy as she swipes her tongue against yours. 

“Please can I give you one more.” You plead, wanting to touch her with your fingers, desperate to see how the woman would fold beneath your touch. There was a slight selfishness to your begging, knowing that you would get exactly what you wanted if you showed her the respect she so desperately wanted to see from you. 

She laid herself back down, pulling you around her body, your chest resting on her arm with one leg hooked over hers as you pushed her legs apart with your foot. “Such a people pleaser hm?” Agatha quizzed, but not complaining, she was usually happy enough to not receive anything, but from someone who could bring her to orgasm so quickly, she wasn’t going to pass it by. 

“I just want to please you.” You say, a faux innocent smile on your face as your fingers carefully brushed against her clit. She whimpered with sensitivity but you carried on with your movements, but her pussy was dripping, coating your fingers with natural lubricant before you moved her shirt out of the way, allowing your tongue to carefully circle her nipple until it hardened against your mouth. 

As you began to make wide circles around her clit with your two fingers, she shifted her arm so it was stretched just enough to be able to brush your clit every time you grind your hips at the correct angle. It was like fireworks inside of you so you began to suck against her nipple, quickening and narrowing the circles you made with your fingers around her clit but soon enough she matched your movements. 

You let out a whimpery moan, desperate for so much more than she was giving you, yet the contact alone interrupted your movements against her clit. She slapped your ass again. “Second strike sweetheart, focus on your Daddy.” You nod at her words, knowing you had to carry on. It didn’t take too much longer before her hips began to buck when you sped up your circles. 

Her breathing laboured as you sucked the other nipple between your teeth, you spare hand playing with the other, overstimulating her in the best way possible as she started to grind down on your fingers. 

“You want me to cum again baby?” 

You nod, her nipple still loosely placed between your lips as she added another finger worth of pressure to your clit, mirroring exactly what you’d done to her. “Yes,” You gasp, “Please.”

The sound of your broken panting voice, whimpers tumbling from your lips made everything too much and she couldn’t help herself as her second orgasm fiercly crashed through her body, growling at the sensation as she let go of you, her back arching away from your relentless touch.  

She stilled your hand as she recovered, looking desperately into your eyes and you could feel her domineering persona washing straight back over her as she yanked your shirt from your abdomen, chucking it onto the floor by the bed. She hungrily attacked your breasts with her mouth, making you moan desperately at the sudden contact. 

“You did such a good job,” She smiles, “Looking so pretty while you did it too, that deserves a reward only good enough for whores like you.” With that, she flips you over her body, planting your back against the mattress with an insane level of strength that you didn’t expect. She wasn’t planning on wasting any time, needing to taste you as you glistened directly in her eye line. “God you’re already so wet, I don’t think I even need to warm you up for my cock huh.”

You gasped at her words, but before they processed her tongue licked one long stroke up your clit, before replacing it with her fingers, circling your clit with one hand, the other trailing around your quivering opening. 

You were nothing but desperate, aching for the feeling of her inside of you, but she repeatedly teased you with circles around your entrance, until eventually, she slipped them in, just one at first, gently stretching you out with her expert, well practised hands. 

“Taste yourself on my fingers pet.” She demanded and Agatha’s fingers pressed in and out of you, gathering enough of your arousal to place in your open mouth, but she didn’t. You watched her eagerly as she sucked you from her own fingers, prying your jaw open with her other hand and spitting your arousal from her mouth, holding your mouth open and continuing to spit against your tongue, knowing your skill from earlier you swallowed as much as you could, but you were still left with a mix of Agatha’s saliva and your arousal dripping down your chin. 

She couldn’t help but groan at the sight of you, before she slid her fingers down your throat until you choked against her, saliva bubbling from your mouth now. She continued to fuck your throat until you were a spluttering mess. Her lips pressed against yours now, her soaked fingers sliding between your folds as your entrance begged for them inside of you, and you took them so much easier now. 

She pumped her fingers relentlessly inside of you, her thumb finding your clit and rubbing it aggressively, stretching you out and you couldn’t help but squirm and moan against her hold, but she kept you still. “You sound so pretty, Daddy needs to fuck you now.” She demanded, pulling her fingers from you and you couldn’t help but feel fucked out already, but you weren’t giving in now. 

“Play with yourself while I put this on.” She orders, shuffling over and reaching for the strap which she kept in her bedside drawer. You could barely see it, but you could tell it was way bigger than you were used to, but you weren’t surprised in the slightest. One that matched the size of her enormous ego. 

You did as she said, pressing two fingers against your clit, carefully applying pressure that didn’t match up to the way Agatha made you feel, but watching her pull her legs through the harness you couldn’t help but squirm and moan as you waited in anticipation. 

“Show me that pretty pussy baby.” She hummed as she turned around, the sheer size of the nine inch dildo attached to her waist making you moan let alone her words. Your hands spread your cunt apart right in front of her. She crawled up to you on her knees until she was between your legs, the position allowing her to tease you, dragging the head of her dick through your wet folds, watching as your body prepared for her. 

She locked eyes with you before she slid straight inside of you, gasping at the feeling of every inch of her forcing its way into your entrance, purposefully making you feel every single centimetre of her cock as it pushed you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Oh fuck Agatha.” You whined, her hands spreading your thighs further apart, her strokes becoming deeper as she aimed to hit every spot inside of you. You couldn’t stop the whiney gasps and high pitched pornographic moans that were escaping your lips. You wrapped your legs around her, pulling her into you, leaving her flush against your sweat painted skin. 

“Aw you’re so wet for Daddy aren’t you.” You nod in response, actually you don’t stop nodding as she pulls out of you, rubbing the head against your aching clit, before pushing herself back into you quickly, pinning your waist against the mattress and pounding into you. You couldn’t take much more of her thrusts, each one hasher than the last, something which you didn’t think was possible but she proved you wrong with every buck of her hips. 

You grip onto her shoulders, arching your back off the bed so you could press your chest against hers. This allowed her to draw messy circles around your clit and it was like she could feel you clenching around her cock. 

“Daddy, I’m gonna-”

“No you’re not.” She commands, pulling out of you and spinning you round by your hips, pressing your head into the mattress, moulding you into the position she wanted you in. “You’re mine, pet, you take what I give you and you cum when I ask you to.” Her voice was a continuous growl as one hand gripped your waist, the other spreading you apart before she spat against your entrance before pushing her cock back inside of you. 

This angle changed everything, your moans jumbled into the duvet as you felt your body being forcefully moved with every rapid thrust, her rhythm never faltering once. 

“Please Daddy, I need to cum.” You beg, turning your head so she could hear your pleas more clearly. Her relentless thrusting of her hips had you so close to the edge and you knew you couldn’t hold it anymore. Just as your cunt clenched around her dick, she could see it in your body language. 

“Cum now on my cock you fucking slut.” You did exactly that, your hands gripping against the covers as Agatha refused to slow down her pace. Your orgasm coursed through you harder than any you’d ever felt before, your moans became screams against each pounding thrust she delivered into your dripping, aching cunt. With a string of expletives and breathy moans you fell flat against the mattress, whining as you felt the emptiness consume you as Agatha pulled out of you. 

“Agatha, that was something else.” You spoke, your eyes only just opening from how hard they’d scrunched shut at the peak of your climax. When your eyes opened, the strap was hovering over your mouth, your arousal glistening in front of your face. 

“You’ve got to clean Daddy up, look at all the mess your slutty hole has made.” You moaned at the deep husk in her voice as you did nothing but open your mouth as wide as you could, allowing Agatha to guide her cock into your mouth, only the head was filling you up to the back of your throat. You began to suck, holding the base between your hands, not letting Agatha thrust her hips into your mouth. You let it go deeper, but not as much as Agatha wanted. 

“You can do better than that, I thought you wanted to be my little cock whore.” Agatha teased and you opened your throat as wide as you could, thrusting your own head into the length of her cock, allowing her to harshy thrust into your choking and spluttering mouth. Her nails deep into your scalp now, as you started coughing she went easy on you, slowly pulling out of your throat as your head fell back in sheer tiredness. 

“Oh sweet girl, you did such a good job.” Agatha praises, loosening the harness and tossing it towards the end of the bed, reminding herself to deal with it after she’d given you the praise you deserved. 

“I’ve never been fucked like that in my life.” You admit honestly. 

“Didn’t seem like it.” Agatha teased before she pulled your naked body into a deep embrace, her body cocooning you between hers. “I’m joking, I only perform best for my fans.”

“Oh shut up Agatha.” You laugh, the reminder of who she actually was came flooding back to you and you couldn’t help but feel the flush of scarlet red beam at your cheeks. 

“Well you’re the prettiest little fan I’ve ever had the honour of fucking.”

[stillalivebydemand893]

Always for you

18+ (repost)

Story: You and Erik are just best friends. You only cuddle, hold hands, sit in each other’s laps, and almost kiss sometimes — totally normal stuff. Everyone else sees it, even the damn lizard. But no, you’re definitely not in love.

You and Erik? Best friends. Ride-or-die. You dated other guys, sure—but it never got serious. Every time things started getting real, you’d just... shut down. In your head, none of it mattered. You had Erik. And he was everything you ever needed in a man. Soft cuddles. Horror movie nights (he lived for horror, the weirdo). Endless 2 a.m. conversations until the sun crept through the windows. Family dinners. And those little, forbidden touches—so casual, no one ever questioned them. A hand on your hip to steady you at a concert. Fingers laced with yours when anxiety threatened to spiral.

It made your heart stutter. But say something? Risk this? Ruin what you had for a few traitorous butterflies? Hell no.

You’d ruffle his hair, place your hand on the back of his neck every time he said something so stupidly cute it made you forget he was this pierced-up, inked-to-hell bad boy (and yeah, you knew about that piercing too). You had feelings, no doubt. But cuddling into his chest on a Friday night felt safer than risking it all.

And then there was her. Brina. That smug, plastic little heart-shredder. After she broke him, you were the one who picked up the pieces. Three straight months of late-night crying and way too much whiskey. You. Always you.

It started as a regular night at the Campbells'. You were playing Until Dawn—again. Legs thrown over Erik’s lap. Comfortable. Familiar.

“GO FASTER! ERIK—PRESS THE DAMN TRIANGLE!”

“I’M TRYING! This thing’s broken, I swear—”

You grabbed the controller, definitely not thinking about how big and inked his hands were. Nope. Not even a little.

“Give me that! You play like a twat—Wendigo’s about to eat Jessica and Matt, and you're over here flailing like a grandma on Wii Sports!”

You beat the level—barely—and smirked. “Matt’s too hot to die.”

Erik laughed, that deep, throaty sound that always got under your skin. “Jessica’s hotter. She deserves to live.”

“You only say that because she looks like fucking Brenda.”

“Brina, Peach . Brina.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you almost sprained something. “Whatever. Save the game. We need to get ready for Jessica’s birthday before your mom kills us.”

You stood up—or tried to. A firm hand yanked you back onto the couch. Erik was on top of you, hovering close. Too close.

“Where do you think you're going after calling me a twat?” His smirk was dangerous—pure sin. Your brain screamed do not soak your panties, but it was a losing battle.

“Get off. I’m already sweating.”

His eyes darkened. That look. You hadn't seen it since he punched your ex for slapping you in public—and yeah, that trip to the police station was worth every second.

“Kiki?” you asked, voice low. If he kept looking at you like that...

His leg slid between yours. His breath was minty. His lips soft. The space between you? Non-existent.

“Peach—”

“HAS ANYONE SEEN PACO?! I’M STARTING TO PANIC!” Bobby barged in like the goddamn Kool-Aid Man, derailing the moment with all the grace of a freight train.

Erik groaned, helping you sit up. “Come on, Foxy. Let’s get dressed.”

“Yeah. In a minute.” You watched him walk away, heart thudding, panties—yep, soaked. Fantastic.

“Paco’s in the fridge, Bobby. Delicious side dish.” Erik smirked.

“Oh thank God. Then who the hell did I put in his cage?” Cue: beef jerky in a lizard tank. You wheezed.

Later that night, after Jessica’s party, all the siblings were crammed in the car. You offered to Uber to avoid the chaos.

“Don’t be stupid. Peach can sit on my lap,” Erik said, hand resting on your shoulder.

“Promise I won’t get a boner,” he whispered, his palm sliding to your waist.

“Yeah? Bet.”

The car ride was quiet. Parents up front. Bobby passed out. Jessica glued to her phone.

You? Tortured.

Short skirt. G-string. Erik’s lap. Worst. Decision. Ever.

“Remember when we first heard this song?” he asked as House of Balloons played.

You leaned back against his chest, fingers intertwining with his on your thigh. “Yeah. Then someone ruined it by playing it on loop for 24 hours.”

He chuckled. “Only because I couldn’t stop thinking about you that day.”

Your breath caught. His hand tilted your chin to face him. Eyes locked. Lips close.

“You looked beautiful tonight, Peach.”

You kissed his cheek, squeezing his hand the way you do during panic attacks—the silent I’m okay now, because of you.

“Can I stay over tonight?” you asked, voice louder so his parents could hear.

“Of course, sweetheart,” his mom replied. “Erik, be nice this time.”

You squeezed his hand again, drawing his attention back. “Yeah, Mom. I’ll be nice.”

The last 10 minutes of the ride were spent with Erik softly kissing your cheek, hand creeping dangerously high on your thigh. Your hips shifted. His bulge pressed against you.

“You lost the bet,” you whispered.

“You’re such a brat sometimes,” he murmured, draping his jacket over your lap, hand slipping under.

“What are you—”

Hot. His hand on your panties. Soaked.

“Fuck, Erik—”

“All that for me? Maybe you’re a good girl after all, Peach.”

You were melting. You needed more. More of him. More of his everything.

“It was always for you,” you whispered. His eyes widened, the smugness replaced by something softer. Real.

“We’re home!” his dad called. “Let’s go!”

Erik helped you out of the car. You both avoided each other for the next 40 minutes. Separate showers. Awkward silences. Doubt creeping in.

Did you mess it up?

Later, lying in his bed, backs turned, dim light casting long shadows—you couldn’t take it anymore.

You climbed out of bed and straddled him, waking him up.

“Kiki…”

“Peach? You okay, love?”

Love. That did it.

“I love you,” you blurted out, palm flat against his tattooed chest.

Silence. Your brain screamed. Panic. Regret.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” you babbled. “I just had to say it. And if it ruins things, I’m sorry, I’ll drop it, we can go back—”

You didn’t finish.

Because Erik kissed you like his life depended on it.

Tongues,, desperation.His fingers tangled in your hair. Yours clawed at his back.

“Do best friends kiss like this?” he murmured, breathless.

He kissed your collarbone, biting down just enough to leave a mark.

“I’ve been in love with you since you tripped and made me slam my head on the concrete in third grade, my Peach.”

“Erik… kiss me.”

And he did.

Your mind was spiraling. Is this really happening? You forgot how to breathe. His lips—soft, warm, sinful—had you melting into the moment.

“What took us so long?” he murmured against your mouth between fevered kisses.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, breathless. “But god, ... I need you. Don’t hold back. Please.”

You paused just long enough to meet his gaze—and there it was. That dark, dangerous glint in his eyes. The one you’d secretly begged for in a hundred quiet fantasies.

The devil had finally answered.

With a growl deep in his throat, Erik grabbed your thighs and flipped you onto the bed like you weighed nothing. Your back hit the mattress with a soft thud, and before you could even blink, his lips were back on yours—hot, greedy, possessive.

He kissed you like a starving man, like he'd waited years for this moment. And you? You surrendered to it, every single part of you burning for more.

You could feel his bulge growing, hard and heavy against your thigh. His hands slipped beneath your—his—shirt, cupping your breasts like they belonged to him. Like they’d always been his to touch, to hold. The way his palms fit you was almost unfair.

Your moans—soft, breathy, desperate—drove him over the edge. He couldn’t hold back anymore.

In one slow, deliberate motion, he slid your panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving you. He paused, gaze devouring the sight of you in his shirt, laid out on his bed, wrapped up in his arms.

Exactly where you were meant to be.

He could count the times he had imagined this moment. You, exactly like this. But now it was real—and for once, there was no guilt weighing him down. Just you, and the way you looked at him like he was your whole world.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed, voice low and reverent. “And mine.”

His hand trailed down your body, fingers brushing your heat—light touches that made your hips jerk and your breath hitch. You were trembling under him, your body aching, begging.

“Please, baby... touch me,” you whispered, your voice cracked and breathless. Was that really you? Desperate, pleading for the thing you’d craved for so long.

He didn’t tease you this time.

He pushed one thick finger inside, and you nearly came undone—your body arched, a choked moan slipping past your lips as pleasure took over.

“Oh God—” you gasped, trying to muffle your cries with your hand, terrified the whole neighborhood might hear.

But he just smirked, dark and wicked, the devil in human form.

“God’s not here, Peach,” he growled. “Beg for me, not Him.”

And then he slid the shirt up, exposing your chest. One hand still working you mercilessly, the other grabbing your breast, fingers rough and hungry. His mouth followed, lips wrapping around your nipple, tongue teasing, sucking—claiming.

Every part of you was unraveling.

I need you to stop covering your moans, baby,” he pleaded, his voice husky, strained with need. “I need to hear your voice. Don’t hide from me.”

The way he said it—don’t hide from me—it cracked something open inside you. You were already blushing so hard you could barely remember your own name. But the way he looked at you, like your pleasure was the only thing that mattered in the world, made you want to give him everything.

“Erik… please,” you whispered, breath hitching, eyes glassy with heat and emotion.

Your hands fell away from your mouth, lips parted, chest rising with each shallow breath. And when his fingers moved again—slower this time, deeper—you let the moan out. Loud, raw, unfiltered.

And Erik? He looked like a man finally tasting heaven.

He took his time, working his fingers inside you with maddening control—first one, then two. Each thrust stretched and filled you in ways that made your back arch off the bed, every nerve begging for more. You bit your lip hard, trying not to scream his name, but the tension building in your core was impossible to hide.

Then he moved lower. You barely had time to breathe before his mouth was on you, tongue stroking your most sensitive spot, licking you like a man possessed. Holy hell— he wasn’t just good at this. He was lethal.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, trembling. “I’m so glad you got that tongue piercing—fuck—”

That comment alone could’ve made his ego break the ceiling, if it hadn’t already. He glanced up at you, smug but focused, eyes locked on your every breath, every twitch, every flutter of your lashes as he pulled you closer and closer to that edge.

“I’m gonna cum if you keep going like that,” you warned, voice cracking.

But he didn’t stop. He devoured you—slow, deep, hungry licks that sent shivers through your entire body. And every time that cold metal barbell rolled against your clit, it sent a jolt straight through your spine. You were burning, unraveling, teetering on the edge of total destruction—

Then he stopped.

Your breath caught. “Why—?”

Before you could even finish the question, he was above you, thick and hard in his hand, the head of his cock glistening as he rubbed it against your entrance—ready. Perfect. Dangerous in the best possible way.

You couldn’t look away. Sure, you’d caught glimpses before—quick peeks in the bathroom when he forgot to lock the door—but now? Now it was right in front of you in all its gorgeous, pierced glory.

“Like what you see, princess?” he smirked, cocky and damn well knowing the answer.

You didn’t reply. Couldn’t. You were soaked—drenched—just from looking at him.

He leaned down, kissed you hard, rough and claiming, before his mouth moved to your breasts again, lavishing attention like they were sacred. But his hands? Gentle. Careful. Like you were something rare.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” he whispered, that flicker of worry in his eyes—because you knew, no matter how wild this got, he cared. So much.

You reached up, placing your palm on his cheek. He kissed it softly.

“I love you,” you whispered, brushing your lips to his. “But I really need you right now.”

And that was all it took.

His eyes darkened, something primal overtaking him, and then he was inside you—deep, raw, thick.

The first thrust knocked the breath from your lungs. He moved like a man losing control, hips snapping forward with power and purpose—but still kissing you softly, like he needed you to know this was more than lust. This was everything.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he filled you over and over, his pace brutal, the stretch intoxicating. The friction. The heat. The way he whispered your name in your ear like it was a sacred prayer.

You came undone—hard and fast—your whole body shaking as the climax ripped through you like a tidal wave.

He followed right after, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as he buried himself to the hilt, coming deep inside you with one final, shattering thrust.

And then—for a moment—there was only silence. The sound of your breathing, tangled limbs, and the weight of years of want finally fulfilled.

He pulled you into his arms, bodies still tangled in warmth, your fingers laced tightly together. His eyes—stormy, glowing like stars—locked onto yours as if he couldn’t believe you were real.

“I can’t believe we actually did that,” he murmured, breathless, voice low with disbelief and something softer—something real.

You giggled, brushing the sweaty strands of hair out of his eyes. “Believe it, Campbell.”

His gaze stayed fixed on you like you were something sacred. “I love you, Y/N. Please, please let this not be another one of my horny-ass dreams or I swear to—”

You silenced him with a slow, lingering kiss, your lips smiling against his. “It’s not, you dork. But if you’re still not sure…” You winked. “We could go one more round—just to really make it sink in.”

That was all it took.

With a mischievous grin, he scooped you back into his lap, hands firm on your hips like he never wanted to let you go. He stared at you in total awe—Erik Campbell, pierced and inked and bruised by life, finally letting himself feel love, not just lust.

And you saw it written all over his face.

“I love you too, dork,” you whispered, nuzzling into the curve of his neck.

Within moments, you drifted off, curled against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek. And Erik?

He held you like you were everything.

Because to him, you were.

[idekkkjja]

aeri madhandling member reader backstage and in stage 🥰🥰🥰

Heads-up: not actual smut but vibrator mentioned, slaps, smacking, groping, and her being a little mean and that's all. Eng not my first lang. ALSO SOZ FOR THE LOOONGGG WAIT AND THIS TURNED TO BE AN EXPERIMENTAL DRABBLE I JUS CHA 💔 Ts atp is a filler post..

Aeri wasn't the type to go overboard in public, hell—she's even careful in private, where your confidential shenanigans ensue behind locked doors and no witnesses nearby or within the radius. It was a risk she was never willing to take, risking her reputation.

Of course, it was a top priority for her. On top of everything she had in her lengthy list, you surely weren't second, third, or on it in the first place. Just a stress reliever for her, a verbal, clear agreement between you two clarifying that this wasn't anything more than a temporary pleasure.

Did it make it hurt any less? No, you were as if a small mosquito dismissed easily with a wave of a hand.

On the cameras, you two were friendly with each other, a 'Tom and Jerry duo', the fans blissfully unaware of the cold reality behind the 'playful' teasing, which was actually a bitter resentment from another argument.

Another argument.

Frequently, booming, screaming matches occurred in the dorms you two were forced to share in the fragile hopes of a reconciliation.

A reconciliation that never came.

It's safe to say the rest of the members were exhausted with it. Too exhausted to notice the brief hickies peppered across your skin, concealed under the wrinkled collar that was awfully ruined by Aeri's desperate fingers clutching on it to hold you close in her unfortunate warm embrace.

One fleeting moment of peace and quiet was shared with her right before the concert began.

You were sick of it: the drastic, extreme mood swings directed at you, the dismissal as you weren't worthy of any basic communication, and the toxic behaviour.

Yet, it was nice, but it was the calm before a thunderous storm.

Ascending upon the stage slowly for the awaiting, squealing fans filling all of the rows within the roudy stadium, the cameras flashed at your unreadable face; it was documenting every muscle movement, waiting for a mess up to drag on for weeks.

You knew how this worked very well.

A minor mistake could drag you back to the start, to a new hate train waiting to fuel up.

As much as you knew you craved to give Aeri a dirty look, you bit your lip to refrain yourself. It was so difficult; she deserved every scowl you gave her.

Amidst performing the songs, hitting all the beats in sync with the stoic woman next to you, you purposefully bumped into her and disguised it as banter.

Aeri let out a startled gasp, stumbling away, genuinely offended. Her jaw slackened, staring at you in disbelief when you strode to the different parts of the stage for the choreography.

Due to that provocative move, she missed a step and hurriedly returned to place, covering her frustration with a nervous giggle that grated on your ears through the earpiece.

Throughout the majority of the songs, your fingers slithered across her exposed waist whenever you passed by, blowing cold air in her air making her flinch almost violently and sometimes playfully smacking her ass.

Aeri grew angrier and angrier by the second, it was a small amount of time before she exploded on you inevitably.

A little too roughly, her strong arms that flexed unknowingly from working out vigorously these days in the gym and spending all her free time becoming a knockoff gym bro had its benefits. She squeezed your waist threateningly before letting you go with a pinch to prevent another ‘teasing’ gesture from you.

People were recording, you knew. She knew.

The moment you tried to push her away further, Aeri yanked you back and made you help by how subtly painful her grip was; it contrasted with that sweet smile etched on her face for the cameras.

Her fancy nails dug deep into your waist, almost on the verge of drawing thin lines of blood. One warning wince made Aeri let you go completely, and she gave you a glance that promised consequences afterward.

After the farewell goodbyes to the audience for a small break, she rushed hers, and you knew why as you knowingly stared at her as she did her speech in multiple languages.

Sadly, that was hot.

The moment you two had a moment of peace—Aeri broke it, colliding with her body against yours painfully against the wall nearby.

Her hands groped your waist, her teeth grazing your neck. “The fuck was that, hm?”

You only whimpered in response, a signal to make this more agonizing.

Sharply, a slap slammed against your cheek, leaving a crimson handprint. Marking you as hers in her eyes.

Gasping, tears immediately sprung to your eyes yet they didn’t bring any pity towards you from the woman.

As if your body was a second skin to hers, she pressed even harder against the wall and her hand reached to cup your cheeks in a mocking, affectionate gesture.

“I was so, so… nice to you today as well,” Aeri spoke, almost to herself.

Another slap, this one letting tears drip on the sensitive, reddish skin.

She reached out, her hand clanging itself with its contents inside loudly in the room before bringing out an item that made you too shocked to even process it.

“Spread those fucking legs,” Aeri whispered, and you did it without question. If you protested back; you knew what would have happened.

Underneath your small skirt, she tucked your soaking panties to the side and didn’t even acknowledge how wet you were making you pathetically whine in the aching neglect.

Cozily, she pressed the vibrator in your wet pussy which slid in easily and she patted it tauntingly which made you jerk in response.

“Fuck you…” you grunted, your half-lidded eyes meeting her intense ones.

Aeri had a meaningless expression, not showing how pleased and satisfied she was now for her revenge.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been a brat, now change. I wonder if the fans would notice that their beloved idol is an insignificant slut.” Grinning, Aeri lets you adjust yourself without any personal space.

Finally, she did back off and hid the controller in her back pocket.

She would be so happy seeing those rumors of you being injured—when all it was just a vibrator affecting your performance.

Needless to say, you weren’t looking forward to it while Aeri was anticipating it and savoring the moment to enjoy your trip-ups.

[littlexdeaths]

whiplash - e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

warnings: teeny tiny violence, reader has a panic attack, eddie is the sweetest, eddie and reader are in college

a/n: this is absolutely inspired by my first experience being shoved into a mosh pit at an avenged sevenfold concert when i was a wee teen. i hope you enjoy xx.

also shout out to my love @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me with the title and some of the dialogue, and my bby @undead-supernova for beta reading for me. ILY BOTH SO MUCH 💕

hot, sweaty bodies were pressed against you at all angles, nearly suffocating you. at this point you couldn’t even see the band playing on the stage, a sea of taller bodies now blocking your view.

when your best friend asked you to attend a metallica concert with her you didn’t exactly know what to expect.

but this definitely wasn’t it.

the small venue was packed, the air filled with the smell of sweat, marijuana and cigarettes. your choice of a leather jacket felt incredibly stupid as it was now tied around your waist due to the growing heat surrounding you.

your palms felt clammy as they clutched onto the hem of your friend’s shirt. the constant moving of the crowd seems to pull her farther and farther away from you. until the swirling pit of metalheads swallowed you both whole, losing sight of her head of blonde hair instantly.

your panicked shouts of her name were drowned out by the screech of an electric guitar— your body now being shoved around to the chants of ‘pounding out aggression.’ the song eerily fitting as you see a ringed fist connecting with another man’s jaw.

your heart is beating in your ears, that familiar feeling of panic washing over you as you continue to be shoved around like a rag doll amongst the group of men. until you somehow landed on top of someone… who had been knocked to the ground only moments before you.

before you have time to react a large hand quickly wraps around your forearm, yanking you up and out of the dizzying circle of death. you all but let the stranger carry you through the crowd. the male shoving past throngs of people until you’ve safely reached the back of the bar.

you barely register his voice as you lean against the brick wall, chest rising and falling at an embarrassingly fast rate. your eyes squeeze shut as you attempt to get your breathing under control. those same hands that pulled you out now rest carefully on your shoulders, helping to ground you.

“hey sweetheart, you alright?”

his face finally comes into focus as you blink your eyes open, your heart now beating against your ribs for a completely different reason.

he was painstakingly gorgeous, full lips lifting up into a soft, dimpled smile. “there she is— hey man can i get some water?”

he slaps his hand on the bar top, the clear liquid sloshing out as a glass is slid over to him. his chunky rings clink against the side when he grips it, now holding it up to your lips.

“it’ll help, trust me.” you gladly take the glass from him, gulping down the lukewarm tap water.

“thank you…” you mumble, setting the now empty glass back on the bar and wiping the corners of your mouth. you mentally forceyourself to stay put, despite the bigger part of you wanting to run out of the bar from sheer embarrassment.

“are you here by yourself?” he asks and you shake your head in reply before resting it against the brick wall behind you.

the brunette seems to be studying you while you take in some slow but shaky deep breaths. letting yourself do the same as your heart begins to return to a normal rhythm.

even in the muted light you can see his dark curls were damp with perspiration, bangs sticking to his forehead. no doubt from being in the middle of that pit for quite a while. his cut off band tee showed off an extensive collection of tattoos. that soft smile morphs into a small smirk, as you realize you’ve been gawking at him.

calming breaths long forgotten.

“you can g-go back out there… w-wouldn’t want to keep you from the show.” you fumble over your words, now finding the sticky floor and your beat up sneakers far more interesting than the gorgeous metalhead before you.

the male chuckles, casually resting his shoulder against the wall next to you. his hot breath fans over your cheek when he leans in closer, “not a chance, sweetheart. until we find your friends, you’re stuck with me.”

you glance back up at him, surprise crossing your features. you knew most people would gladly leave you behind in the shadows, especially considering the band that’s owning the stage. that sentiment alone makes the butterflies raging your insides flutter even faster. the chaos of the crowd is now forgotten as he grins sweetly down at you.

“i’m eddie, by the way.”

the music has seemingly gotten louder since the two of you left the crowd, now having to shout your name back in reply despite the lack of space between you. his smile only widens as you turn to face him fully, crossing your arms over your chest.

“and what is a fair maiden like yourself, doing in a place like this?”

you can’t stop the giggle from leaving your lips as he gestures dramatically around the dingy bar before his dark eyes are back on you.

“oh no reason at all… just needed a study break.” he can tell from the ride the lightning t-shirt adorning your frame that you’re teasing him, but he plays along anyway.

“so you stumble into a random metal concert, only to get caught in a circle of death? that’s quite the break, sweetheart.” he nudges your foot with his own, earning another giggle from you.

“something like that, yeah.”

he hums in response, running a hand through his unruly curls, “duly noted— i’ll have to take study breaks like that more often.”

the two of you quickly fall into easy conversation, no longer paying attention to the concert goers surrounding you.

despite having only met him less than half an hour ago, you both seem quite comfortable with each other. any embarrassment from your small panic attack now a fleeting memory as he tosses his head back with laughter. the sound warming you from the inside, out.

“gotta say i’m a little shocked, first show and you’re already hitting the pits like a pro.” he jokes, leaning in a little closer to you. the scent of his spicy cologne washes over you, making your head spin, “practically took that guy out by sitting on him.��

you groan in embarrassment, playfully shoving his shoulder as he laughs again.

“i’ll have you know i’m quite fond of the music… just not the…” you gesture towards the sea of bodies that are jumping, shoving and headbanging to for whom the bell tolls.

“moshing?” he finishes for you, as you nod sheepishly.

before he has a chance to say anything else, a loud squeal fills your ears as a body slams into you at full force. nearly knocking you over in the process.

“there you are, babes! i’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

earlier you would’ve been relieved to hear your best friend’s voice, but now you can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. hoping your emotions aren’t written across your face, but she doesn’t seem to notice. she’s a little too preoccupied with staring at the male leaning next to you.

“now who is this?” her tone is overly playful, wiggling her eyebrows at you suggestively.

before she can embarrass you further, you elbow her in the ribs. effectively stopping anything else from leaving her mouth besides a little huff.

“eddie munson, certified mosh pit rescuer at your service ladies.”

he does a little half bow, causing both of you to break into a fit of giggles.

“wow… a modern day knight in shining armor huh?” she teases but seems impressed nonetheless, “wish i had a hot guy to pull me out of there, i basically had to army crawl my way out.”

even in the shitty bar lighting you can see his cheeks are tinted pink from her compliment, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“it was nothing really, just happy to help.” he shrugs before pushing himself off the wall, sliding his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans.

“modest too? where did you find him?” she gushes, gently bumping her hip into yours. “and does he have a brother?” she whispers that part to you, ignoring the way you roll your eyes at her.

“well i see you’re in good hands now, sweetheart, i hope you enjoy the rest of the show.”

as he turns to leave you feel your friend shove you forward, giving you a look that screams, ‘are you insane? don’t let him get away!’

“eddie, wait!” you shout, gently tugging on the male’s wrist before he gets too far. that dimple making another appearance as he turns back to you.

“miss me already?” eddie teases, fully enjoying the flustered look that crosses your features.

“i uh, i-i’d really like to thank my knight in shining armor properly… maybe over coffee?” you nervously chew on your lower lip, praying that you didn’t read this entire interaction wrong.

but seeing his face light up squashes any doubt, watching as he grabs a pen off the bar. holding the cap between his teeth as he takes your hand, scribbling his phone number onto your palm with a satisfied grin.

“looking forward to it, sweetheart.”

he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before disappearing into the rowdy crowd.

tagging some moots who seemed interested 💛

@babygorewhore @hellfirenacht @thepurplelovewitch @impmunson @voyeurmunson @madelynraemunson @take-everything-you-can @corrodedcorpses @serasvictoria @munsonhoneybaby @splendiferous-bitch @eddiesxangel @taintedcigs

all dividers made by yours truly 💕

[realityjoey]

SEASON 1, EPISODE 1: “PILOT”

The sound of boots hitting linoleum echoed through the halls of the LAPD precinct like the warning thump of an approaching storm. Officer Tim Bradford moved with deliberate intensity, shoulders squared, chin up, eyes already scanning for prey. Two younger officers trailed behind him, trying to keep up, practically tripping over themselves in their eagerness not to annoy him.

Tim, however, was in his element.

“Rookie Day,” he said, grinning like a wolf on the hunt. “Best damn day of the year.”

The younger officers exchanged wary glances, unsure whether to laugh or stay silent.

He continued without missing a beat. “They come in bright-eyed, fresh out the Academy, full of dreams and idealism—and I get to crush it all before lunch. It’s a public service, really.”

It wasn’t malice—at least not entirely. Tim Bradford didn’t hate rookies. He just believed that the real world didn’t have time for coddling. His job was to break them down and see what was left. Some would survive. Most wouldn’t. He was okay with that.

As they stepped into the locker room, Tim’s eyes scanned for his first target. It didn’t take long. Down the row, Jackson West stood at his locker, carefully unpacking his gear like he was setting up a display in a museum. Everything about him screamed new: the freshly pressed uniform, the shiny boots, the nervous little glances at his surroundings.

Tim zeroed in.

“West,” he barked.

Jackson turned, startled but composed. “Yes, sir?”

“You even know how to load your weapon, or should I prep some coloring books for you?”

Jackson straightened, his posture flawless. “Top of my class, sir. Certified and field-ready.”

Tim squinted, waiting for the flinch, the nervous smile, the over-eager stammer. But Jackson met his gaze with surprising confidence.

Tim’s jaw tensed. “Right.”

He gave a slight, dismissive wave and turned away, muttering under his breath. “Goddamn overachievers…”

He barely took two steps before he spotted someone else. A figure crouched further down the locker row, back turned, organizing her gear with quiet efficiency. Long legs in fitted black jeans, hair tied up, a casual shoulder holster slung across her body. She was humming to herself—something British, upbeat, and completely out of place in the grimy LAPD locker room.

Tim didn’t recognize her. That meant she was new. Another rookie.

Perfect.

He strode over, voice loaded with sarcasm.

“You lost, Rookie? Locker room’s not a damn concert.”

The woman stood slowly, not flinching, not rushing. She turned, and Tim’s words caught somewhere in his throat.

She was… unexpected.

Sharp green eyes met his without a hint of hesitation. A faint scar arched near one brow, and her expression was calm, almost amused. She looked him over once—cool and measured—and then spoke in a clipped, clearly British accent that managed to sound both tired and vaguely threatening.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said dryly. “Though if this is how you welcome new officers, I’m starting to understand the dropout rate.”

Tim frowned. “You’re not a rookie?”

“Nope.”

“Then who the hell are you?”

She reached into her locker and slapped her badge onto the shelf. He glanced down. Detective Dylan Jenkins.

“Transferred in last week,” she said, like she was reading his mind. “Ten years in the Met. Homicide. And if you’re planning on trying to scare me off, you’ll have to get in line behind a few armed robbers, five ex-boyfriends, and my mother.”

Tim blinked.

She smirked.

“Nice try, though, tough guy. I’d give it a six out of ten. Maybe you’ll scare someone next time.”

He straightened instinctively, trying to regain ground, but her grin widened slightly—confident, unbothered.

“You think this is funny?” he asked, one brow raised.

“I think you’re funny.”

She slammed her locker shut with one hand and brushed past him without another glance, pausing only to nod politely at the two stunned officers still lingering nearby.

“Morning, lads,” she said smoothly, walking away like she owned the place.

Tim stared after her, momentarily speechless. The two officers exchanged looks behind him, clearly trying not to smile.

“Think you just met your match,” one of them muttered.

Tim didn’t look back. “She’s not gonna last.”

But even as he said it, he knew he was lying. She was going to last—and more than that, she was going to make his life a hell of a lot more complicated.

Ten minutes later, the bullpen was filled with the low buzz of conversation and the occasional scrape of chairs as officers gathered for morning roll call. The precinct’s large briefing room smelled of stale coffee, leather, and ink—familiar and grounding. Officers lined up loosely in rows, some standing with arms folded, others slouched in their chairs, tapping pens or scrolling idly on their phones.

At the front of the room, Sergeant Wade Grey stepped up to the podium with the quiet authority of a man who didn’t need to raise his voice to be respected.

“All right,” he began, voice cutting clean through the chatter. “Settle down.”

The room quieted almost instantly.

Grey scanned the room. “Got some fresh blood today, so let’s play nice. Or at least pretend.”

A few dry chuckles rippled across the room.

He gestured to the side, where three fresh-faced rookies stood against the wall like kids on the first day of school.

“First up: Officer John Nolan. Former construction business owner. Late bloomer, some might say. But don’t underestimate him.”

Nolan gave a polite nod, shifting a little awkwardly under the weight of so many stares. Older than the other two by at least fifteen years, he looked calm but out of place.

“Next: Jackson West. Top marks at the Academy. You may recognize the name—yes, he’s the son of Commander West. But no, he didn’t ask for special treatment. Let’s keep it that way.”

Jackson stood straighter, clearly proud but trying not to show it.

“And finally, Lucy Chen. Smart. Sharp. She’ll be learning fast—because she’ll have to.”

Lucy smiled faintly, the kind of smile that said she wasn’t here to be underestimated.

The room gave a mild smattering of interest—respectful enough, but unsurprised. Rookie intros were routine.

Then Grey turned back toward the wall. “And lastly, we have Detective Dylan Jenkins.”

Every head turned.

She stepped forward, hands casually in the pockets of her fitted jacket, chin tilted up just slightly. Calm, poised, completely unbothered by the full attention of a room filled with seasoned LAPD officers.

“Detective Jenkins joins us from the Metropolitan Police in London,” Grey continued. “Ten years on the job. Homicide. Multiple commendations. She’s not a rookie—but she is new to the way we do things here. Keep that in mind.”

Someone in the back let out a low whistle. Someone else muttered, “Damn,” under their breath.

Tim Bradford, arms crossed, leaned back slightly where he stood in the far corner, jaw tight. She didn’t even glance at him.

Grey’s voice cut back in. “Pairings for today: Chen, you’re with Officer Yates. West, you’re riding with Lopez. Nolan—Bishop’s got you.”

Each of the rookies stepped forward to meet their assigned Training Officers.

Then Grey paused.

“And Jenkins,” he said, “you’ll be partnered with Officer Bradford.”

There was a beat of silence.

Tim’s head snapped toward Grey like he hadn’t heard right. “Excuse me?”

Dylan turned her head, arching a brow at him like it was Christmas morning.

Grey didn’t blink. “You heard me. You’ll be responsible for giving her a crash course in LAPD procedures and American policing. She’s got the experience, but she needs to learn our way of doing things.”

Tim didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just stared at Grey like he might be able to stare him into changing his mind.

It didn’t work.

“Dismissed,” Grey said.

The room burst into motion—officers peeling off, meeting partners, heading to squad cars and desks. Dylan didn’t move straight away. Instead, she waited until they were nearly alone in the room.

Bradford still hadn’t said anything. His arms were crossed tightly now, jaw clenched, like he was holding back a hundred different arguments.

“Something wrong, Officer?” Dylan asked, ever-so-innocent.

He narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t funny.”

She smiled. “Didn’t say it was. But it is poetic.”

Before he could respond, Grey stepped down from the podium and approached the pair.

“Before you throw a tantrum, Bradford, let me be clear,” he said. “This isn’t a punishment. It’s a challenge. Jenkins isn’t some green rookie you can scare into submission. She’s here to learn the system, not the job. She already knows how to handle herself.”

Tim didn’t reply, but the tension in his shoulders said plenty.

Grey turned to Dylan. “You’ll report to Captain Andersen eventually, but for the next few weeks, you’ll shadow Bradford. He knows our protocols better than anyone. Consider this your American immersion course.”

Dylan nodded. “Understood.”

Grey gave Tim a final look—something between a warning and a dare—then walked away.

Tim let out a breath, turning to face her fully.

“Don’t get comfortable,” he said.

She smirked, already walking past him. “I rarely do.”

And just like that, Dylan Jenkins became the first person in a long time to truly throw Tim Bradford off his game.

And she knew it.

The patrol car rumbled steadily through the streets of downtown L.A., sun creeping higher above the skyline, casting long shadows against the cracked pavement. Inside the shop, the silence between Tim Bradford and Dylan Jenkins was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Tim drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift, his eyes scanning the streets like a hawk. He hadn’t said much since they pulled out of the precinct. Neither had she. The only sounds were the low static of the police radio and the occasional blare of traffic outside.

Dylan sat in the passenger seat, back straight, one arm draped over the door. She watched the passing storefronts and unfamiliar intersections with quiet interest, but her expression was unreadable. Stoic, detached. The silence didn’t bother her. She’d worked cases in the Met where whole days went by with only the sound of rain and crime scene tape flapping in the wind.

But she could feel him looking at her now and then. Weighing her.

Eventually, his voice broke the quiet.

“So,” Tim said, eyes still on the road, “why America?”

Dylan didn’t turn her head. “Weather’s nice.”

He glanced at her. “You don’t strike me as the palm trees and beach yoga type.”

She smiled faintly. “Well, I was deciding between here and Arizona, but I thought my accent would be wasted in the desert.”

He huffed a short breath. A noncommittal sound. He didn’t push. Not yet.

The silence returned—for about thirty seconds.

Then Tim suddenly slammed on the brakes.

The tires screeched slightly, the car jolting to a halt. Dylan’s hand instinctively grabbed the dash, her other already reaching for her holster.

“What the—” she started, but Tim cut her off.

“I’ve been shot,” he said, voice strained and loud. “Bleeding out. You need to call for help. Where are we?”

Dylan blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Where are we?” he snapped. “I’m losing blood, Jenkins. Tick tock.”

She stared at him, jaw tightening. It took her half a second too long to orient herself. The street signs were small and high, a layout nothing like the numbered, gridded roads she’d grown up with in London.

She looked left, right, spotted a cross street and muttered it aloud.

Tim leaned back in his seat, dropping the act like it was a coat he was done wearing. “Too slow. Now I’m dead, and it’s your fault.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” He checked the mirror and pulled back into traffic without another word.

“You did that fake act just to test me?”

“It’s not fake when it happens for real,” he said coolly. “I’m not here to hold your hand, Jenkins. You need to know the city like the back of your hand. If I go down, or you do, or someone else does, every second counts. You freeze like that on the job, someone ends up in a body bag.”

Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond immediately. He could feel the tension radiating off her now. Controlled. Contained. But real.

“I’ve done ten years of this job,” she said finally, voice low. “And I didn’t survive it by freezing.”

Tim didn’t look at her. “This isn’t London.”

“No,” she agreed coldly. “It’s a circus where apparently training means getting sucker-punched with imaginary trauma at a red light.”

Tim allowed himself a small smirk. “You’ll thank me later.”

She turned her head to look out the window, biting down the thousand things she wanted to say. She wasn’t rattled. She was pissed. But more than that, she understood what he was doing. He was setting the tone. Drawing a line. Making it clear that she wasn’t above the tests—not in his car.

But if he thought she’d fold under pressure, he had no idea who the hell he was dealing with.

Unbeknownst to Dylan, this was only the beginning. The first of many “Tim Tests” that would come at her hard and fast—each one carefully designed not just to teach, but to challenge. Push. Provoke.

And if Tim Bradford was looking for someone to break, he’d picked the wrong woman.

The tension in the car simmered like a pot on the edge of boiling.

After Dylan’s failure to name their exact location fast enough for Tim’s liking, the silence between them had turned icy, sharp-edged. He drove without speaking. She sat rigid in the passenger seat, jaw clenched, staring dead ahead at the road unspooling in front of them.

Then, without warning, Tim pulled over.

Not a smooth coast to the curb. A firm, deliberate stop. The car idled.

Dylan turned to him, annoyed. “Now what?”

“Out,” Tim said simply.

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get out.”

She scoffed, arms folding across her chest. “You’re taking the piss.”

He turned in his seat to face her, eyes cool and unmoved. “You want to learn this city? Walk it. You don’t get to rely on GPS when someone’s bleeding out in your arms and you’ve got ten seconds to call in help. You don’t know where you are? Then get out and start learning.”

She stared at him like she was trying to decide whether to punch him or laugh. Probably both.

“That’s your solution? Kick me out like a bad date?”

Tim didn’t blink. “Walk until you know where you are. Then you can get back in.”

Dylan stared at him for another beat, jaw working. Then, with a sharp exhale, she threw open the door and stepped out. The door slammed behind her like a gunshot.

The moment the door shut, Tim shifted the car into drive and rolled forward. Not far. Just enough to stay next to her. His pace was excruciatingly slow, the cruiser crawling beside her like an overbearing chaperone.

She walked with purpose—long strides, fists clenched, eyes scanning street signs and landmarks. She knew what this was. A test. Another one. She was sick of the games, but damn if she’d let him win.

After about a minute of the awkward, silent crawl, Tim finally spoke again.

“Why did you really move to L.A.?”

She didn’t look at him. “I told you. The weather.”

“No, you didn’t. That was sarcasm.”

A beat passed.

She kept walking, boots hitting the pavement hard.

“I’m not here to play twenty questions,” she muttered.

“Good,” he said, still watching her. “Because I don’t care about the small talk. I care about who I’m riding with. Who’s got my back. And right now, I don’t know a damn thing about you—except that you don’t know where the hell you are.”

She stopped walking. Finally. Turned to face him. Her green eyes were narrowed, fierce.

“You want the truth?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It’d be a start.”

She walked over to the passenger door but didn’t get in. She leaned down slightly so they were eye to eye through the open window.

“I moved because I needed a fresh start. Because staying in London meant suffocating in a job that broke my family apart, living on minimum wage, and hoping for the day that some screwed up junkie stabbed me in just the right place to put an end to it all.” Her voice was low now. Controlled, but edged with something darker. Something that had weight behind it.

“Or maybe,” she added, “because I was running from something. Or someone. You don’t need to know the details— and you never will.”

Tim studied her for a moment. He didn’t ask anything else. Didn’t push. Just nodded once.

“Get in.” He said.

She opened the door and slid back into the passenger seat without a word.

For a while, the car was quiet again.

But this time, it wasn’t silence loaded with resentment. It was silence thick with understanding. Not a truce, exactly—but something close.

The engine hummed as they pulled back into traffic.

Tim didn’t look at her when he spoke next, eyes still focused on the road.

“You ever pull that sarcasm crap when someone’s bleeding out next to you again, I’ll make you walk the whole damn district.”

Dylan scoffed, “You know you weren’t actually bleeding out, right? Or are you so caught up in your little tests that—“

Tim glared at her, raising his eyebrows sternly.

Dylan smirked faintly, eyes on the window.

“Noted.” She nodded, dramatically.

The afternoon sun bore down on the city, making the asphalt shimmer and the air inside the patrol car thick with heat. Tim and Dylan had fallen into a more tolerable silence now, the earlier tension dulled but not quite gone. The day had been quiet—too quiet, as Tim would put it.

Then the radio crackled to life, sharp and urgent.

“7-Adam-15, requesting backup! Suspect on foot, heading eastbound on Temple. Male, Hispanic, black hoodie—repeat, on foot. Bishop’s in pursuit. We need units!”

It was Nolan’s voice. Breathless, strained, panicked in a way that made Tim’s eyes sharpen.

Tim flicked the lights on and slammed the car into motion. “7-Adam-19, responding. We’re two blocks out.”

Dylan was already shifting in her seat, focused. The streets blurred past in a rush, sirens slicing through traffic as they closed in.

Moments later, Tim screeched the cruiser to a halt near the edge of a narrow alleyway. Dylan was out of the passenger seat before he’d fully stopped, feet hitting the ground hard.

They heard the shouting before they saw them—Bishop’s sharp commands echoing through the maze of buildings. A dark figure darted across the alley ahead of them, sweat-slick and fast.

“There!” Tim shouted, breaking into a sprint.

But Dylan was already moving.

She surged ahead like a bullet, legs pounding against the pavement, sleek and focused. Her breath was steady. Controlled. She passed Nolan, who was huffing heavily, a few steps behind Bishop, already starting to lag.

Nolan blinked in surprise as she tore past him. “She’s fast,” he muttered—mostly to himself.

Tim was close behind, but even he had to admit: she was impressive.

The suspect cut hard through an alley and bolted into a construction site. Dylan didn’t hesitate. She ducked under scaffolding, vaulted a low barrier, and stayed on him, eyes locked on his back like a predator on prey.

The suspect glanced back—once. A mistake.

He turned to cut left toward a side fence.

Dylan saw the opening.

She didn’t stop to think. She launched.

Her feet left the ground, body horizontal mid-air as she slammed into the suspect’s back with a perfect flying tackle that sent them both crashing to the gravel. Dust exploded around them, the suspect groaning as Dylan pinned him hard to the ground, one arm twisted behind his back before he even knew what hit him.

“LAPD! Stay down!” she barked, already reaching for the cuffs.

Tim skidded to a stop just as she snapped the bracelets around the guy’s wrists and yanked him to his knees.

Behind them, Nolan let out a frustrated grunt.

Tim glanced back and stifled a smirk.

John Nolan was dangling halfway up a chain-link fence, his shirt caught on the metal, one leg awkwardly stuck mid-climb. He looked like a cat who’d second-guessed jumping a wall but couldn’t find the way down.

“Welcome to the arrest.” Tim called out, dry amusement in his voice.

“I… yeah,” Nolan muttered, trying to pry himself loose.

Dylan pulled the suspect to his feet, dusted herself off, and shot Tim a look.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

Tim exhaled, shrugging. “Not bad.”

Dylan raised a brow. “Not bad? That was textbook.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tim muttered. “We’ll get you a medal later.”

She grinned, flushed from the chase, hair sticking to her forehead, knuckles scraped—but victorious.

As they led the suspect back toward the cruiser, Nolan finally managed to untangle himself and drop to the ground with a huff, looking sheepish. Bishop arrived moments later, eyeing the cuffed perp and raising a brow at Dylan.

“Remind me to request her next time I’m chasing someone,” she said.

Dylan just shrugged, casual. “Love a good chase. Thrilling.”

Tim tried to act unaffected, but he could feel it: the slow shift in his perception. She wasn’t just surviving the Tim Bradford Trials—she was passing them. With grit, skill, and a smirk that said she wasn’t afraid of him or the job.

Midday sun hung high, casting long shadows over the cracked parking lot where the smell of sizzling onions and chargrilled meat wafted through the warm breeze. The unmistakable buzz of a food truck lunch break had taken over, and for once, the LAPD officers had a moment to breathe.

The burger van—“Benny’s Burgers: Home of the Widowmaker”—was an unassuming, slightly greasy legend among the precinct. A busted neon sign flickered above the window, and the owner, a wiry man with more tattoos than teeth, barked out orders with a cheerful lack of hygiene.

The training officers and their rookies had spilled out around a few weather-worn picnic tables scattered nearby. Drinks sweated in the heat, fries were fought over, and the tension of the morning’s chases and patrols had relaxed into laughter and easy conversation.

At one of the tables, Jackson West, John Nolan, Lucy Chen, and Dylan Jenkins sat together, trays in front of them, legs stretched out under the table.

“So, is it true,” Jackson asked, leaning forward conspiratorially, “that your sirens back home sound like a dying goose?”

Dylan, mid-bite of her burger, chewed thoughtfully before answering with a smirk. “More like a goose having a panic attack. It’s less intimidating, more… confusing. Great way to clear traffic, though—people pull over just to make it stop.”

Lucy laughed, nearly choking on her soda. “God, I love your accent. It makes even horrifying sirens sound interesting.”

“Tell that to the blokes I’ve arrested mid-chase,” Dylan said, raising her brows. “Nothing interesting about getting tackled by someone yelling at you in full Cockney rage.”

“You tackled someone earlier today,” Nolan pointed out, pointing at her with a fry. “That was—honestly? Epic.”

Jackson nodded. “Straight up NFL highlight reel.”

Dylan shrugged, modestly brushing a fry through some ketchup. “He was running. I don’t like runners.”

Lucy grinned. “You and Bradford are kind of perfect for each other, you know.”

Dylan gave her a sharp look. “Don’t say that. I’ll lose my appetite.”

They all laughed. Even Nolan, who was clearly still recovering from getting caught on a fence, chuckled with mock humility. “Okay, but real talk—what’s it actually like working in London?”

Dylan leaned back a bit, tilting her head toward the sky, as if summoning ten years of stories.

“Rainy,” she said at last. “Political. Fast-paced. And rougher than most people think. A lot more paperwork. A lot less guns. You don’t realize how much adrenaline you get from being armed until suddenly you’re not.”

Lucy nodded slowly, fascinated. “Did you always want to be a detective?”

“No,” Dylan replied honestly. “I wanted to be a writer. Or a vet. But then my brother got arrested when I was sixteen, and I realized the only people making a difference were the ones on the inside.”

There was a pause. Not somber, exactly—but heavier.

Lucy reached out and touched her arm lightly. “Well… I’m glad you chose this path. You’re kinda badass.”

Dylan smiled, genuinely. “Thanks, Luce. You’re not so bad yourself.”

At a nearby bench, just far enough away to hear the laughter without being part of it, Tim Bradford, Angela Lopez, and Talia Bishop sat with their own burgers and drinks.

Angela, sipping her iced tea, glanced over at the rookies’ table, eyes landing squarely on Dylan. “So. Your Brit is settling in.”

Tim didn’t look up. “She’s not my Brit.”

Talia smirked. “But she is in your shop. And from what I saw earlier, she’s putting your pride to the test.”

Bradford ripped a bite out of his burger like it had personally offended him. “She’s fast. I’ll give her that.”

Angela raised a brow. “Fast? Tim, she tackled a suspect like she was some kind of athlete.”

“And cuffed him clean,” Talia added. “No hesitation.”

Tim grunted, chewing slower now. He hated admitting it, but the woman was competent. More than competent. She moved like someone who’d been in high-stakes situations for years. Controlled, precise. Even when she was pissed off—which, to be fair, seemed to be a constant state around him—she never lost her focus.

“She’s got instincts,” he muttered, finally conceding. “But she’s also had ten years on the job, so all of this is the bare minimum.”

Angela leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “She’s also bonded with the rookies. Chen’s practically got hearts in her eyes.”

“She’s sharp,” Talia agreed. “A little raw, but sharp. There’s something under all that sarcasm and leather.”

“Trauma,” Tim said flatly. “I can tell.”

Angela looked at him. “You’d know.” She muttered.

He gave her a look. “Funny.”

The three of them sat in thoughtful silence for a moment, watching as Dylan tossed a fry at Lucy and Lucy mock-gasped in betrayal.

Talia leaned back and said, “You’re not gonna break her, Bradford. Not like the others.”

Tim didn’t answer right away. He just kept watching.

“You never know.” he said finally.

“Oh, we know she won’t break.” Angela smirked. “But maybe… she’ll break you.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it.

The fluorescent lights in the locker room buzzed softly overhead, casting a sterile glow on the cold metal lockers and tiled floor. Most of the day shift officers had already cleared out, leaving the room still and quiet—an odd contrast to the chaos of the shift that had just ended.

Dylan Jenkins stood in front of her locker, the door open wide, the contents nearly cleared out. She’d changed out of her LAPD uniform and into a fitted black leather jacket, faded jeans, and ankle boots—her usual armor of civvy clothes. Her badge and gun were already locked away, and she was stuffing the last of her belongings into a worn canvas shoulder bag.

Her hair was down now, loose waves tumbling over her shoulders. Without the rigid silhouette of her uniform, she looked less like the no-nonsense detective who’d tackled a suspect to the ground that morning, and more like someone you might mistake for a musician or a freelance journalist. She liked that—kept people guessing.

The locker room door creaked open behind her.

She didn’t turn.

“Either say something or stop hovering,” she said flatly.

There was a pause. Then a familiar voice—Jackson West—chuckled nervously.

“You know, for someone with such a charming accent, you’re kind of scary sometimes.”

Dylan turned slightly, arching a brow as Jackson and Lucy Chen approached. Lucy had changed into a casual hoodie and jeans, hair up in a ponytail, but her expression was bright and familiar. Jackson, still in his Academy-issued sweatshirt, looked a little more subdued.

Dylan tilted her head. “You two stalking me now, or is this some LAPD hazing ritual?”

“Neither,” Lucy said, smiling. “We just wanted to see if you were free tonight.”

Dylan zipped up her bag. “Define ‘free.’”

“We’re all heading out for drinks,” Jackson said. “It’s not your first day, obviously, but it’s ours. Thought we’d celebrate surviving it—and, you know, buy Nolan a beer before he completely spirals.”

Dylan frowned slightly. “Nolan?”

Lucy’s expression softened. “He saw his first death on the job today. Some guy got stabbed to death. He didn’t say much, but… it hit him.”

Dylan let out a quiet breath. She remembered that moment. Everyone did. That first time death wasn’t just a photo on a file, but a body on the floor—still warm, eyes open, no longer human.

She closed her locker door and leaned against it.

“First one’s always the hardest,” she said quietly. “He okay?”

“He’s pretending he is,” Jackson said. “But he’s not. So we figured drinks. Something light. Laugh a little. Remind ourselves we made it through.”

Lucy looked at Dylan, hopeful. “You should come.”

Dylan studied them both for a moment. There was no pity in their expressions—just the openness of people still soft around the edges, still new enough to believe that sharing the weight might make it easier to carry.

She wasn’t used to being invited. Or included.

In London, it had been coffee at her desk. A bottle of something bitter at home. Silence.

But here—this wasn’t about her. It was about Nolan. About the fact that this job didn’t just break you in—it shaped you, with or without your permission.

“Alright,” she said, pushing off the locker. “But I’m not dancing, and I’m not doing karaoke.”

Lucy grinned. “No promises.”

Jackson smiled. “I’m just impressed you said yes.”

Dylan slung her bag over her shoulder. “Don’t make me regret it.”

As they walked out of the locker room together, the laughter between the three of them echoed off the walls—soft, genuine, and new.

And behind them, in the now-empty room, the silence lingered a little less heavily.

The bar wasn’t fancy—half the neon lights outside were broken, and the air inside was thick with cheap beer, over-loud music, and the low murmur of conversations that ranged from laughter to heated pool-table debates.

But it was familiar. Comfortable.

One of those off-duty cop haunts tucked just far enough from the precinct that it didn’t feel like an extension of the job, but close enough that you could still show up in uniform and no one would bat an eye.

Dylan Jenkins sat on a weathered leather booth seat near the back, one arm draped casually along the backrest, a half-empty whiskey sour in her hand. Her jacket was slung over the chair beside her, boots crossed at the ankles under the table. She looked relaxed—but she was always watching.

Across the table, John Nolan nursed a beer quietly, eyes a little distant, his expression thoughtful even when he smiled. Lucy Chen sat beside him, leaning into his space like a sister might, and Jackson West was halfway through telling a story, hands animated and voice rising and falling with dramatic flair.

“And then,” Jackson said, eyes wide, “my FTO walks into the locker room, sees me in full gear, and goes, ‘You look like you’re playing dress-up in your daddy’s clothes.’ In front of everyone!”

Dylan let out a low laugh. “Ouch.”

“I almost turned around and quit on the spot,” Jackson said. “But I’d already paid the dry cleaning bill.”

Even Nolan chuckled at that, shaking his head. “They really don’t hold back.”

Lucy grinned. “The Academy was just… chaos. Remember that time they made us do the obstacle course in full gear during a heatwave?”

“Someone passed out,” Jackson added.

“Two someones,” Lucy corrected. “One of them fell into the tire pit.”

They all laughed again, and even Nolan’s face seemed to lift a little.

Dylan took another sip of her drink, her smirk faint but present. “You lot are soft.”

Lucy leaned in. “Oh yeah? What was it like in London, then? Come on. Tell us a story.”

Jackson nodded eagerly. “A real one. Like, something wild.”

Dylan raised a brow, thoughtful for a moment. Then her eyes gleamed.

“Alright,” she said, voice smooth with that unshakable accent. “You want dark? I’ll give you dark. But don’t blame me if you never look at kebab shops the same way again.”

That got their attention.

“So,” she began, “this one time, I was working surveillance on a guy suspected of trafficking arms through fake food deliveries. Sounds stupid, but it worked—he had a kebab van, right? Parked it all over South London. Every time someone ordered a double lamb with chili sauce, he’d drop off a silenced Glock instead.”

Jackson’s eyes widened.

“Anyway, one night, I’m parked outside in this freezing car, sipping the worst coffee you’ve ever tasted, and I see our guy dragging something heavy out of the van.”

“Drugs?” Lucy guessed.

“Body,” Dylan corrected flatly, like she was discussing the weather. “Wrapped in cling film. Tosses it into a wheelie bin like it’s Tuesday’s leftovers.”

Jackson made a face.

Lucy leaned in, fascinated. “What did you do?”

“I radioed it in. My backup, of course, was ‘stuck in traffic’—which in London means they were three blocks away, couldn’t be arsed to run, and we were understaffed. So I went in alone.”

Nolan blinked. “Alone?”

“Yeah,” Dylan said with a shrug. “Pulled my baton, because guess what? I wasn’t armed back then. He swung a carving knife at me, screamed something about MI6 trying to poison his kebab meat. I took a lamb spit to the face and still cuffed him.”

There was a stunned silence.

Then Lucy burst out laughing. “Oh my god. You’re insane.”

“I was hungry,” Dylan said, completely deadpan. “The real tragedy? The kebab van got impounded before I got my dinner.”

Even Nolan laughed now, his expression lighter than it had been all night.

The tension he’d been carrying all shift—the haunted look in his eyes from the guy who’d been stabbed—seemed to soften around the edges, not gone, but less sharp. Lucy gave him a soft, sideways smile and touched his arm briefly. He returned the gesture, grateful.

At the bar, people noticed Dylan—of course they did.

Men stole second glances. Women raised eyebrows. The way she carried herself was hard to ignore: the sharp jawline, the casual elegance, the effortless cool of someone who didn’t need attention but always got it. With her whiskey glass in hand and that impossibly smooth accent, she looked like a walking contradiction—tough as hell, but disarmingly charming.

And yet—her gaze never wandered. Her attention never left the table. Not for the guy by the bar trying to make eye contact. Not for the waitress who “accidentally” brushed against her.

Her focus was here, with them.

With Lucy, who kept telling stories about rookie training mishaps and snorted when she laughed too hard.

With Jackson, who asked too many questions but meant well.

With Nolan, who had seen something today that changed him—and needed to be around people who understood that.

Dylan sat back slightly in the booth, letting the hum of the bar drift around her. The laughter, the dim lighting, the comfort of shared experience. It had been a long time since she’d felt this—not just included, but accepted.

She’d walked into the LAPD expecting to feel like an outsider. And maybe she still was. But tonight?

Tonight felt like a start.

DYLAN JENKINS X TIM BRADFORD SERIES

next episode

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 23 - desperation

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language, mentions of alcohol

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"i thought it was you."

those words hung heavy in the air, like a slap to the face.

you blinked, trying to process what he had just said. “what?”

rafe exhaled shakily, his fingers twitching at his sides. “i- i was wasted, y/n. i could barely stand, top said i was mumbling your name all night and then when this girl came up to me, i thought-” his voice cracked, and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “i didn't see her face, she just came up to me and pulled me in. i thought no one else would do that but you. i thought it was you."

you stared at him, your breath caught in your throat. “that's bullshit.”

rafe shook his head quickly. “it’s not. i swear to you, y/n, i wasn’t thinking. i wasn’t there.” his voice was desperate now, eyes glossy with unshed tears. “i closed my eyes, and in my head, it was you. it was always you.”

you sucked in a sharp breath, something inside you fracturing. “do you have any idea what it felt like?” your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to keep going. “to wake up, check my phone, and see you with someone else? to have everyone sending me that picture? you made me feel like i was so easy to let go of. like everything between us meant nothing."

he flinched, his whole body tensing.

“because that’s what it felt like, rafe.” your voice finally broke, and the tears spilled over before you could stop them. “you made me feel like i was worth nothing."

his face crumbled. “you're not nothing y/n. i hate myself for making you feel that way. i hate that you think that's how i see you."

you wiped your cheeks, shaking your head. "then how do you see me rafe?"

"i see you as my everything," he took a step closer, "i see you as the most beautiful girl that walks in any room. i see you as the girl who can cheer anyone up in seconds. i see you as the person who makes me a better version of myself. i see me only with you."

you avoided his gaze, not allowing him to see that he was getting to you, “i needed you. i needed you to fight for me, to show me that i wasn’t crazy for loving you.”

rafe took another step closer, eyes pleading. “you were never crazy for loving me.”

“i needed you." you choked out.

his face twisted in anguish. “i’m so fucking sorry.” his voice cracked, a tear slipped down his cheek. “tell me what to do. tell me how to fix this. i'll do anything.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the ache in your chest. but then you heard it—his voice, barely above a whisper.

“y/n… please don’t shut me out.”

you swallowed hard, nails digging into your palms.

he hurt you. he broke you. he let you walk away and didn’t come after you.

but he was here now.

and for the first time in weeks, you weren’t alone in this pain.

your resolve cracked, just a little.

“i don’t know how to do this without you.” his hands twitched at his sides like he was dying to reach for you.

you let him.

his fingers grazed yours, hesitant, like he was scared you’d pull away.

you should have.

but the moment his skin met yours, a shiver ran through you, and every wall you had spent weeks building started to crumble.

rafe’s breath hitched, his grip tightening just slightly, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on. every touch more intimate than anything you'd experienced before.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered again, voice thick with emotion. “i’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if that’s what it takes.”

your throat burned, the weight of everything pressing down on you. “i don’t know if I can trust you again,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

he nodded, swallowing hard. “then let me earn it.”

you searched his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, you saw the rafe that was yours. the one who used to make you feel safe. the one who used to play the guitar and sing to you to help you sleep. the one who looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him breathing. the one you fell in love with.

you should walk away. you should tell him it’s too late.

but instead, you did the one thing you told yourself you wouldn’t do.

you let him pull you into his arms.

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a/n: sorry this one isn't much smau, but i worked really hard on the writing for this so i hope you guys don't mind

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