#tangerine x sub reader

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Loved the recent tangerine smut with submissive reader!

Can you please do one with same submissive reader? She loses her virginity to Tangerine after dating. Super passionate but loving and sweet. Ty!

Hey love!

As always thank you for waiting. Hope you enjoy

Warnings: sex, loss of virginity, slight panic, Dom/sub, sub space, after care and fluff

Original Post

Dating Tangerine had been an interesting choice. You knew about what he did for a living after meeting him in the middle of some crossfire. He stayed with you after to make sure you were all right and the two of you had found it difficult to separate ever since. 

He would call every night to check in with you and listen to how your day was. He would take you on absolutely perfect dates, just like tonight. 

He insisted on taking you to your apartment door as always. When the elevator door shut the usual tension rolled in like a heavy storm. It twisted around you and a thick flush crept up on your cheeks. Tan was never pushy, so much so that you hadn't had the opportunity to discuss your situation. You looked over at him and felt your face get even redder, your breath caught in your chest and all hope of starting a conversation died. 

He took a step towards you and gently took your chin between his finger and thumb. He tilted your face up to his and studied your face for a moment. Silently giving you a chance to push away. When you stayed perfectly still his mouth brushed against your lips. His mustache tickled but the sensation was long forgotten as he kissed you again with more certainty. 

You had been kissed before a couple of times so you weren't completely inexperienced, but this was a different sort of experience. There was nothing clumsy about him. He stood solid in front of you, his large hands holding your face steady. He was very much in charge, something that made you want to relax into him. You didn't hear the elevator signal or notice the doors were opening. He broke the kiss and you felt off-center as he removed his hands. His arm wrapped around your waist and you followed him out into the hallway. 

You unlocked your door with shaky hands. Embarrassment licked its way up your spine. Tan was a lady’s man something that was glaringly obvious but also something that Lemon had mentioned from time to time. Your head was spinning with reasons this was going to end badly. 

You opened the door and stepped inside. You turned to him and his hands were back on your face. He placed a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away. 

“You want me to go?” He asked firmly. With his hands on your face and his mouth so close you found it almost impossible to answer. You gave a small shake of the head and his mouth was back on yours. 

You stumbled back slightly giving him room to enter and kick the door shut behind him. His tongue was in your mouth and your body shut down further. You knew it should be like in the movies where you’d be grabbing onto him, ripping his clothes off. He’d pick you up and throw you against a piece of furniture. 

Instead, you let him take from your mouth, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction sucking on his tongue. His hands stayed there on your face a feeling that shook through your body. He was holding you where he wanted you, he was pushing into you, consuming you. 

You felt hazy and when he pulled away from you it took conscious effort to open your eyes. 

___________________________________________

Tan had slept around a lot. He’d gone rounds with women who hadn't looked at him the way you were looking at him now. Your eyes were heavy, and his spit was on your swollen lips. They were slightly parted as you moved your half-lidded gaze up to his eyes. He’d only kissed you and yet you looked completely gone. 

He fought with the urge to rip your stupid dress off and fuck you here in the entryway. You were flightly and he had left the physical stuff in your court, waiting for you to make the first move when you were ready. He realized that tongue fucking your mouth in an elevator probably was not letting you make the first move. 

Normally you got shy and a little uptight about physical contact so he had assumed the worst and wanted you to feel safe. Looking at you in the dim city light pouring in through your windows, you took a breath and he could see the worry bleed into your features. 

“Shhh Just want to look at you for a moment.” He said in a husky tone your eyes fluttered closed and your body relaxed again. He looked at you and wanted to take his time so he could remember the moment. “You want to take this further?” He whispered in your ear. 

You took a shaky breath and let it out without an answer. Concern shot through Tan as he looked at you. Normally by the time a chick was this far under he wouldn't ask her for anything or change things up as consent gets shaky. Normally by this point she’d be a few orgasms in. 

“You show me where your room is, love.” He whispered and you nodded. You moved slowly as if taking a step from him would cause you to shatter. You pulled him into the room and before you could freeze up he guided your body to sit down. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

His hands rested on your hips and he pulled you down to sit on the edge of your bed. He knelt down on the floor in front of you. 

You didnt know if it was decision paralysis or just that half of your brain wasn't working. You knew you needed to tell him the truth, but the words were so far away. His hand came up to pull your chin down bringing your focus onto him. 

“I’ve never -” Your eyes squeezed shut as the words got stuck in your chest somewhere. The embarrassment had enough edge in it to pull you back to the surface. You took a deep breath. 

“Sorry, erm- I just - that was all new to me - I don't know what’s wrong with me. - If it was wrong or messy. Like I’ve kissed people just not like -” 

Tan looked up at you the corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. 

“You're perfect, love.” His eyes were so intense you could feel your sense of self slip away again. 

“See there it is again. You just -” You ran a hand through your hair. 

“That’s just how some people are.” He whispered. 

“But what do you want-” You started to ask. 

“No. We aren't doing that.” He said firmly. “I just want you to do exactly what you're doing, can you do that for me.” 

You gave a nod. 

“Good.” The praise washed over you and you realized there might be a very long list of stupid things you would do for more. 

“Alright. What do you want to do tonight?” His eyes were searching. 

“Sex.” First thing you had said firmly that night. 

“We don’t have to do all that tonight.” 

“Please.” You whispered. You wanted him so badly and for so long. He always left space between the two of you and on occasion, you wondered if it was because he might not really be sure if he was attracted to you or not.

“Listen to me okay?” You nodded again to let him know you were listening, his grip on your chin tightened slightly. “I’m gonna touch you all over, stretch you out, then ask you again if you want to go through with it. You need to be good and answer me okay?” 

“Okay,” you said in a breathy tone. 

“You wanna stop you can say so or tap me twice, okay?” 

“Okay.” You agreed again. 

He looked you over again and decided he would check in with you as things progressed. You were so soft and malleable. He moved both his hands to your knees and slowly moved down your legs to your heels. He unlipped the buckle on your shoe and was happy that you didnt try to help. Your mind seemed to only be focused on his touch. 

He got your shoes off then brought his hands back to your knees. He let his thumbs stroke the inside of your thighs. Every small thing seemed to set you off and he wondered if you could even survive taking all of him. The thought made him moan. The air left your lungs and he moved his hands up to the top of your thighs. He lightly stroked your panties feeling the wet material slide, soaked with your arousal. Your legs squeezed shut and you shuttered. 

He stood up and grabbed you hauling you further up onto the bed. You let out a little cry of surprise before your features fell into a look that made his cock throb. 

“Be a good girl for me baby.” He roughly pulled your panties down and threw them into the room. He spread your legs and tore his eyes away from your glistening core just long enough to catch the red flush that covered your cheeks. The rush of being on display for the first time. 

“Fuck.” He let out a breath. “No one’s been here before?” 

You shook your head your breathing was rapid and he felt a rush like nothing else. His hands ran up your thighs and felt the little tremors running through the muscles. He kicked his shoes off and moved a little bit farther up the bed. He placed the heel of his palm into the soft flesh right above your pubic bone. 

The sound you made ran through his body. He watched your eyes follow him as he moved closer to your heat. He placed a bite at the top of your thigh and he felt you tense in response. He moved his mouth to where you needed him. Placing a soft lick against your clit. You let out a cry and he pushed his tongue through your folds. Your thighs had snapped shut around him but he didn't mind. He would happily drown here. 

He moved to sucking and brought his finger up to circle your entrance. You were unbelievably tight and wet. He moved into your warmth slowly, making sure you adjusted to every sensation. His finger brushed against a fleshy spot inside your walls and you bucked against him hard. 

No manors, no sense of self. You were going to be the death of him. 

You were a complete mess of gasps and wet moans. He was half sure you were crying. He just continued to try and open you up.  Eventually the noises you were making were so high they were starting to disappear. Your hand was firmly woven into his hair, pulling hard. He sped up the pace and felt the most blissful sensation around his fingers as you came hard. Warm wetness crashed down on him. Your whole body contracted and he pushed you to ride it out as long as possible. 

He let you crash and moved away from your clit knowing it would probably hurt. Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were wild as you looked down at him. 

“Good girl,” he said ecstasy running through him at the look that crossed your face. “You wanna stop.” 

Your chest heaved and your eyes opened again you shook your head. “Need you.” 

“Are you sure? We have lots of time, love.” He lied, his cock was painfully hard. If they did or didnt he needed to take care of things soon. 

“Please.” You struggled for words but he didnt want to torture you any further.  

He took off his jacket throwing it into the same abyss as your panties. He started on the buttons of his shirt watching your eyes observe him for the first time. Everything you felt was always clearly written on your face, something he loved about you. 

He got off the bed quickly to get out of his trousers and pants. Grabbed a condom he had stashed in his pocket He watched you look him over realising that this was probably new for you as well. 

He got back between your legs and pulled the dress off your frame. He made quick work of your bra and enjoyed the sight of you there. Naked and open. Not even the slightest bit of shame or embarrassment on you. He realized that no one had been here to hurt you like that before. The urge to spoil you rotten overtook him. 

He leaned down and kissed you keeping you distracted while he rolled the condom he had opened onto his length. 

With his hands free he gripped your breasts. He loved the heaviness of them almost as much as the way you moaned into his mouth. 

He fought the urge to push into you and placed one hand on the back of your neck. He took his time running over the curved of your body before sliding his fingers over your clit. Your hips bucked and he kept a steady pace. 

He waited till you were a complete mess again before lining the head of his cock up with your entrance. 

“You ready for me, baby?” 

“Yes.” You exhaled.

He pushed himself in slightly. Realising it might be best to push through it then let you adjust. You moved your hips cautiously. 

“It’s yours.” You moaned and he pushed himself in. The feeling was enough for him to bite into your neck. You let out a gasp and your body tensed. He continued to work at your clit with his fingers. 

He gave the back of your neck a squeeze. 

“Good girl. Breath for me.” You took another shuttering breath and he felt the conflicting feelings running through your body. Your walls were clenching around him and he tried to keep him self-disciplined. He gently thrust into you and he felt your hips move against him on the second thrust. 

You gave into the pleasure and he felt you move against his body. He picked up the pace and thoroughly enjoyed how your body brought him closer and closer. 

“Tan.” You breathed and he knew you were close. 

“Hold on for me.” He grunted and he felt you fight your orgasm. He could lie and say it was because he wanted it to be drawn out and good for you, but really he just wanted to your cunt to squeeze him off. 

“That’s it - fuck - good girl.” His breathing was heavy and he couldn't hold himself off anymore. “Cum for me baby.” He thrust deeper and felt your body tense and collapse against him. Your walls pulled every last bit of cum from him. He watched you fall apart on him. The way your body tensed, the sounds you made. The way your eyes went wide and then closed. He thrust into you till your hand gripped his forearm tightly and your body tried to move away from his touch. He moved his hand and waited for you to relax before pulling out. 

Your eyes were closed and your chest was still heaving. He moved across the room to what he assumed was a little bathroom flicking on the light he was assaulted by the color pink and covered his eyes before he disposed of his condom in the trash. He looked around and found a little washcloth. He wiped himself off realising that a warm cloth probably wasn't going to cut it. He should get you cleaned up properly.

He came back into the room and let his eyes adjust. He found you curled up in a ball still breathing heavily. Perhaps leaving right away wasn't the best move. 

“Hey come here.” He said and he pulled you up. He ran his hands over you. “Gotta get you cleaned up.” 

You nodded. 

—________________________________

You felt like you were floating but also downing. Trapped under heavy emotions and feelings. He was there so consuming then gone, soon as he left the walls collapsed onto you. You tried to breathe and felt his hands on you. 

The realization of everything hit you, you didnt even talk about birth control. Your stomach gave a painful lurch and you clung on to him. Partially afraid of him but more terrified of the loneliness. He picked you up and you clung to him harder. 

He carried you into the light and it was too painful to open your eyes. You realized you were crying. 

“Shit- just tell me where it hurts.” He placed you on the toilet and ran his hands over you again as if he could figure out where he had hurt you. 

“I didnt ask about-” You took a deep breath and looked at the concern in his eyes. You were shivering and he moved away from you.

“Ask about what? We can fix it, babe. Just pee while I figure out the shower.” He moved away from you but this time it was easier knowing where he was going. You watched him naked, struggling o turn the shower on in your very pink bathroom. You grabbed some toilet paper and looked down in the trash. A used condom that was certainly not there before lay there. 

“Oh,” You said. Whipping your eyes on the back of your hand. He was here, not leaving your side. No bad decisions were made. Everything was okay. 

“I’m assuming you like the water at an ungodly temperature?” He said and you let out a shaky laugh. You pushed down the feeling of jealousy that he would only know that because he had showered with lots of other women. 

He grabbed you hauling you up onto your feet and you realized that your legs were shaking and that you had gone to the bathroom in front of another person. Somehow you felt you should feel more embarrassed than you were. 

He got you under the hot water and held you there. So many insecurities washed over you with the hot water. You hadn't shaved, or worn the cutest underwear. You pressed your forehead against his pec and let the feelings bombard you. 

“I wasn't planning on erm - doing it tonight?” Your voice got all high with uncertainty and you wondered why you were so awkward. 

“It’s my fault.” He said softly. “I shouldn't have pushed you that far.” His grip tightened on you. 

“No, I wanted you to. I just sort of forgot about a lot of things - I didnt think I’d feel so “ You struggled to find the words. 

“I’m clean, assuming your clean. Wore a condom. It didnt break or anything.” he said and you let out a breath that gave you away. 

“Thanks for being the reasonable one.” You said and realized you meant it. You fully just relaxed and he had done all the hard work. He let out a laugh. 

“Really - I just sort of laid there you did all the hard work and I forgot about condoms and I just made a mess of this -” 

“Is that how you feel?” He grabbed your chin and pulled your face up to look at him. You gave him a look and he kissed your forehead. “That’s how it's supposed to be, love. I look after you and you be good and relax for me.” 

“I didnt even blow you.” You said feeling yourself start to slip away again.

“Trust me it’s better that you didnt. Barely lasted long enough as it is.” He moved around the shower and looked at the various bottles. 

“Purple lid.” You said and he looked at the bottle. He squeezed a large amount into his hand and started rubbing the shampoo into your scalp. 

He was very cautious of your moods after that. He spent the night keeping you close even as you snacked in the kitchen he had lifted you to sit on the counter and stood between your legs. You relaxed into his presence and felt very well taken care of. In bed he held you close you slipped away into a deep sleep.

[iliketangerines]

Imagine imagine imagine Bi-Han and Reader as enemies for as long as they can remember, but recently Reader feels attracted to Bi-Han and one night decides to touch herself at the image of him. Add some degrading kink here and some size kink there sprinkle sprinkle ykyk :3

calling my name

a/n: 4200 words...y'all better eat this up, please, i'm begging you

pairing: bi han x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI) light bondage, degradation kink, size kink, overstimulation, pussy eating

you absolutely hate Bi Han, he always had to one up you, always had to be better, always had to make sure to rub it in your face whenever he beat you in a spar

it was absolutely infuriating, and you seeth at him from across the room as he lectures the trainees and mentors for something idiotic that one person had messed up

he was so serious about every single little thing, and you wanted to slap him, to beat him into the dirt because of course he would take such a stupid mistake so seriously

someone had left out a weapon on the training grounds rather than putting it back on the rack, and for some reason, this was the hill Bi Han was going to die on

you barely hold in your scoff and your eye-roll as Bi Han walks by you, and you sit until your ass is numb and he’s finally done lecturing you all

finally, you walk off back to your room, the day already dark and moon high from how long the grandmaster had lectured you all

why did the mentors have to be there? it’s not like any of you would make a mistake so trivial, and now your night was wasted

you were going to sit down with a good book and a hot cup of red tea and sip on it until the candle burned down, but now you couldn’t even do that

closing the door, you strip off your clothes and angrily throw them into your laundry basket and put on your loose pajamas

maybe you would just go to sleep then

flicking off the lights to your room and closing the blinds, you bury yourself underneath the sheets and stare at the wall of your room

except sleep won’t come to you, no matter what position you flip yourself into or how long you close your eyes, and now you’re angry for a different reason

finally, you lay on your back, the blanket rumpled around you, and all you can do is stare at the ceiling as you lay wide awake

the meeting from earlier flashes through your mind and how Bi Han had strut around the room, dressed in only a casual uniform for training

it was sleeveless and tight, one size too small for him, and you could see every time his arm flexed and how his chest nearly spilled out from the front

you hated Bi Han so much that it turned into lust, and it frustrated you to no end how much you craved him despite how much you also wanted to beat him into the dirt

huffing out into the air, you dip one hand below your shorts and press them against your clit, biting your lip at the feeling

you start with slow circles, sighing at the feeling, and you can feel your pussy clench around nothing and getting wet as you continue

your fingers are nimble, nowhere near soft, but not quite calloused just because you engage in more hand to hand combat rather than with weapons, and you wonder how Bi Han’s fingers would feel against your clit

you’ve fought with him many times, felt his calloused and scarred fingers dig into your skin and cause bruises to bloom across you

they would be rough, focused, determined, rubbing quick and hard circles into your clit, and you let out a soft moan as you quicken your pace

parting your legs slightly and taking a pause to throw off your pants, you rub your clit with practiced fingers, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling

pleasure buzzes through you, hums in every fiber of your being as you get yourself closer and closer to the edge

you imagine Bi Han is here with you, fingers rough against you and pushing you further and further to the edge

his voice would be saying something, always something because the grandmaster always had something to say or do to prove his point

you can imagine the deep rumble of his voice, the growl he would let out, his neat and pristine hair being mussed by your hands

you’ve never wanted to pull out his bun so much and mess up his hair and tug tangles into the strands, and you know he would be irritated with the action

he would pin you down to the ground, thick fingers moving to fuck your drooling pussy while his thumb grinds against your clit

it would be delicious and angry and hot, and you let out a moan of his name as you cum on your fingers, letting your orgasm wash over you and light every sense in your body

you slow down your fingers on your clit and let out a little breath, feeling more tired than earlier, and you remove your fingers and adjust your position to turn onto your side

where you see an open door and someone standing there in casual training uniform

a chill runs down your spine and your heart thumps in your chest as your eyes trail up, up toned legs, a plush chest with crossed arms, and a scowling Bi Han

oh fuck

immediately, you throw your blanket over your bare legs, mouth open in surprise, and you sit up, fingers clutching the blanket so hard that you might as well tear a new hole through it

he doesn’t do anything, and you don’t say anything, stuck in a staring contest that you desperately didn’t want to be in

and then he steps in closer to you, making you flinch, and he closes the door behind him, his silhouette nothing but a dark shadow in the black of your room

it’s hard to tell if he’s moving, smiling, going to kill you, and you shift on the bed to turn on your lamp

but then there’s a hand on your legs through the blankets, yanking you further down the bed and making you gasp in surprise

you go to yell, scream, yelp, but a hand clamps itself over your mouth and his other pins your wrists above you, ice cold and freezing

he chuckles lowly, the only other sound in the room besides your pounding heart, and he says that he didn’t know that his most annoying soldier was so into him

you glare at him, almost hoping that it makes him drop dead, but unfortunately, it doesn’t, his hands still pressed against you

his breath gets close enough to fan out across your face, and it makes you flinch, not knowing that he was so close to you in the darkness of your room

your eyes had yet to adjust to the black night, and you kick your legs in an attempt to hit his stomach and fling him off of you

but he just slots his hips right in between your plush thighs, and you’ve run out of possible defenses to kick him off of you

unluckily for you, the rough cloth of his pants rubs on your sensitive clit when he had pushed his way between your legs, and you let out a small whimper at the feeling

you can feel his smirk before he opens his mouth, and you don’t move in fear of grinding against him and further embarrassing yourself

but from the way you can feel his hardness pressing right against your cunt, you’re guessing he liked you just as much you liked him

or at least, the way you liked his body because you hated his personality

Bi Han grinds his hips into yours, and your eyes finally adjust enough to see his stupid stupid smirk on his face, looking at you like you’re prey

his hand is still clasped over your mouth, but he lets go of your wrists, encasing them in ice so you couldn’t throw them at him

the ice almost burns, and it mixes with the pleasure you feel as he grinds against you, making your head spin and your nerves twist in every which direction

it doesn’t know whether to deal with the pain or deal with the pleasure, and it fills your head with a haze as you let out a muffled curse behind Bi Han’s rough hand

he lets go of your mouth, and you curse him out with as many expletives you can think of

Bi Han rolls his eyes, muttering something in Chinese under his breath, and you switch to the language and start cursing him out like that

he looks around your room, finding your discarded panties on the sheets above you, and he shoves them into your open mouth, effectively silencing you for the most part

you can’t even spit it out because it’s too large, and so you just glare at him, arms stuck to your fucking bedsheets and legs spread around his hips and staring at his insufferable face

he hates you, you know he does because he fights you like he does no other, and it’s clear in his words as he calls you a whore, a needy little slut

you continue to glare at him as he says that if you wanted him that badly, you should’ve just asked, he can’t but help a whore in need

his hands travel up shirt, cupping your breasts and squeezing them harshly, making you let out a choked whimper at the roughness

he just squeezes and squeezes your chest, doing nothing more than that for a second, before his thumbs find your hardened nipples and roll against them

the feeling makes you whine, and he grins at you, pinching your nipples repeatedly and listening to the muffled whines and whimper that flow out of you

you can’t stop the noises that come out of you, and neither can you control how your pussy grows more and more wet by the second

he murmurs, saying that you look so pretty when you’re quiet, so helpless beneath him, and that maybe he should keep you like this, all pliant for him

you try to growl underneath your gag, but then he lowers his head to your neck and sinks his teeth into your skin

a small yelp leaves your throat, and he runs his tongue over the mark, kissing a little lower before he sucks a hickey into you as well

it’s high up, too high to hide with your uniform, and you squirm in his grip to complain

but all it accomplishes is making you rub against him, and you just let out a pathetic mewl at the feeling and go still

he chuckles against your skin, kissing lower and repeating the process over and over again until he finally reaches your chest

he nips and bites at the skin before latching his mouth over your nipple, running his tongue over the nub, while his hand pinched your other nipple

his tongue and teeth are relentless against the sensitive nub, and you can’t help but squirm against him, growing needier and needier by the second

you garble out commands behind your gag, telling him to hurry up, to stop being such a coward and fuck you senseless already, but if he understands, he ignores you

he’s slow with his actions, just grinding himself into your sensitive clit, and the grandmaster continues to tease your chest, teeth lightly nipping at your nipple

it makes you whine and arch your back and your chest right into his awaiting mouth, and he smirks against your skin and detaches from your nipple with a slight pop

but he quickly moves to your other nipple, giving it the same overbearing treatment, tongue rubbing over the nub and teeth lightly biting into it

you really couldn’t take any more teasing, and you try to convey that as much with the way your hips buck into him, but he just growls and presses his body weight further into you

with his size compared to yours, you’re helpless to get him off of you and can only take the pleasure that he gives you

he seems to spend forever on your other nipple, and your head is starting to grow foggy with how much you need him as much as you hate to admit it

you wanted to flip him, take what you want and leave him needing, but for now, all you can do is let the pleasure cloud your mind and control your body

finally, after what feels like an eon, he detaches his mouth from your chest, giving it a playful bite before he looks at your heaving chest

he hums at the sight, pinching your nipples one more time for good measure, and you suppress your whimper at the feeling

Bi Han just laughs and calls you pathetic, but he looks just as debauched, lips shiny with his spit and eyes frenzied, his hair a mess with strands falling out of his bun

you want to spit an insult at him, tell him that he’s no better, but he hasn’t removed the gag just yet, and so you just glare and hope they burn holes through him

he just lightly pats your chest, and then shuffles downward, using his hand to spread your legs open and then up to press them into your stomach

you try to struggle and move your legs again, but his arms are thick and strong and keep them pinned tightly to your body

he just mutters pathetic under his breath before lapping his tongue over your clit, making your hips buck and a small whine to escape from you

Bi Han wastes no time in tasting all of you, his tongue flicking your clit back and forth roughly before sucking on it and drawing a wail out of you

his tongue is ruthless, cold against your clit, and all you can do is buck and grind your hips further and further into his tongue

you’re getting closer and closer to the edge, his tongue still pressing firm flat strokes against your oversensitive clit, and you can’t think at all

you hurtle over the edge, pleasure shattering like shards of glass throughout your body, and you tremble as he keeps his lips firmly wrapped around your clit

it feels like your high lasts forever, and you know that you’re whining out his name from behind the gag but you can’t even stop yourself

but his tongue is still pressing against you, tongue still stubbornly lapping at your clit, and his fingers slide through your folds

they’re cold, and the temperature makes you gasp and flinch at the coldness, but Bi Han just hums into your clit and all thought flies away again

he slips his fingers into you, thicker and rougher than your own, and your pussy squeezes around them, trying to bring them further, desperate for pleasure

pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly, you can feel your mind and your body separating, how the pleasure seems to hold onto your body and bring you far away from yourself

it’s like floating in the space between Earth and Outworld, and you can’t control the whimpers that leave your throat as Bi Han curls them into your sweet spot

it makes your pussy squeeze around his fingers and grow wetter as he rubs against the spot, and you let out small mewls as he continues to suck on your sensitive clit

it’s so overwhelming, and you want to kick him off but also bring him closer and make you cum, you want it, you need it

Bi Han hums into your clit, the vibrations shooting straight through you and making you see white as you cum on his fingers

he keeps pumping in and out of you, letting you ride your high out on his fingers, and you’re panting heavily, head dizzy from the lack of oxygen from the gag

his tongue gives your pussy one final lick, tongue broad and firm, before he detaches himself from you with a wet pop and stands up, letting your legs finally fall down

you can’t even kick him away because of how they feel more jello than bone right now

you’re face to face with just how large Bi Han is, sure you’ve sparred against him, had him pressed against you so many times before

but that was in a different context…now he’s standing before you, undressing himself, his biceps flexing in the little moonlight that shines through the cracks of the blinds

his chest is so much broader and defined than yours, years and years of training you supposed, and he catches you staring as he shucks off his pants

no surprise, of course the cocky motherfucker was large, and he brings his hand to wrap around it and pump it a few times, his thumb collecting the pre-cum and spreading it along the shaft

he lets out a low groan at the feeling, and you nudge your thighs against his, wanting him to hurry up and fuck you

raising an eyebrow at you, Bi Han leans forward and takes out your gag, and immediately you call him an asshole

he retorts, saying that you didn’t seem to have the same attitude when he was making you cum on his fingers earlier

you frown at him, trying to keep your face still even as he slaps your pussy with his cock, letting the head bump against the clit

it sends little shocks of pleasure running through your body, but the only giveaway is how your hips slightly twitch at the feeling

he doesn’t do anything for a moment, just sliding his cock between your folds and getting himself nice and wet for you, and then he hikes your legs up into his large hands

staring straight at you, he tells you to beg, beg for his cock like the desperate whore he knows you are, and you open your mouth in indignation and glare at him

and then you spit an insult out at him, telling him he’s some pompous stupid asshole whose too cocky for no reason, a terrible grandmaster, a horrible lay

if he’s affected, he doesn’t show it and just looks at you with a bored expression until you’re out of breath and panting

his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, going deep enough that you know that there will be bruises tomorrow

he asks if you’re done, his voice annoyed and bordering a growl as he stares down at you

you tug at your arms, pursing your lips at the fact that they were still stuck to your bedsheets, and your thighs are held firmly in place by his hands

he grinds into you, pulling his hips back and teasing you with his cock, slightly pushing in but then pulling back out

you can’t help it as a small whimper leaves your throat, and you glare at him and tell him he isn’t playing fair

Bi Han doesn’t react, just repeats his order from before, to beg for him to fuck you, and you frown and slightly squirm to try and move your hips down onto him

he just pulls his hips backward away from you, preventing you from spearing yourself any further on his cock

the both of you are at a standstill for a moment, but you can feel your resolve breaking every time the tip pushes in just slightly and then pulls back out

it’s driving you insane, but you can see the cracks in his patience as he pushes in deeper and deeper and how he starts to let out a curt grunt every time he teases you

but of course Bi Han wouldn’t play fair because he leans down, his face so close to yours, and he hooks your legs over his shoulders

one of his hands snakes down to rub at your clit, and you want to actually kill him as he smirks at you and tells you to beg

he’s so absolutely infuriating, so irritating, and he was breaking down your resolve like he was an ocean wave and you were a crumbling sand castle

his thumb is slow and torturous, rubbing light circles into your clit but never going fast enough to make you cum, just enough to have pleasure creep in the edges of your frayed nerves

you try to buck and grind your hips into him to get him to apply more pressure, but it’s fruitless, and you’re left with no more options

closing your eyes, you murmur out a please

he tells you to do it again, to do it better, he knows you can do better

opening your eyes and glaring up at him, you bare your teeth and snarl at him, and he just looks down at you, awaiting your response

you grit your teeth and beg for him in a low and irritated voice, begging for him to fuck you on his fat cock, to make you cum until you only know his name, to fuck you until you worship him…please

Bi Han grins and with one single thrust, he pushes his cock into you and bottoms out, pelvis snug against yours

it steals your breath, and a strangled sound leaves your throat as he starts to fuck into you at a brutal pace, the sound of your wet pussy filling the air

he’s big, stretching you out to lengths you’ve never been, and he’s hitting every spot inside of you perfectly and turning your mind into mush as his thumb presses firmly into your clit

you refuse to beg anymore though and bite your lip to stifle your moans and whimpers, and you close your eyes and turn your head to the side to hide in your shoulder

Bi Han doesn’t seem to mind, simply leaning down further and making your hamstrings burn as he sucks and kisses hickeys into your neck

he nips at your sensitive skin, leaving his marks on you as his hips thrust in and out of you, and you let out a choked moan as you cream on his cock

his hips never stop, continuing their ruthless pace through your orgasm, but he lets out a low groan at the feeling of your pussy clenching and squeezing his cock

it’s the sound of your half-hidden whimpers and whines, his grunts and low moans, and the sound of his hips slapping into yours filling the room

every shock of pleasure is sharp and loud, cracking through your body as the overstimulation starts to sit in, but Bi Han doesn’t seem to care as he pants into your skin

he spares a look down and groans at the sight, and you look down as well, barely making out in the low light how every time he thrusts in, a slight bulge appears on your stomach

somehow, his pace quickens, and he growls into your ear that he’s going to cum in you, needs to cum in you and mark you all the way

you just whine in response, lips parting, and he takes the opportunity to attach his lips to yours and kiss you deeply, tongue finding its way into your mouth

your taste still lingers on his tongue, and you moan at the realization, pleasure coursing through you

he swallows the sound of your drawn-out keen as your pussy clamps down on his dick, nearly strangling it as you cum again, and he moans into your mouth as he does the same

you can feel his cum inside of you, warming you from the inside, and your thighs tremble as the both of your ride out your highs, his hips becoming sloppy and slow as he finishes

he just lays on top of you, letting his cock soften inside of you, and the both of you just lay there panting, chests heaving as you close your eyes and savor the last remnants of pleasure

and then you open your eyes and mutter for him to get off of you, and you tug at your arms, finally finding the ice fragile enough to break with your strength

he just grunts and obliges, his cock slipping out of you, and as much as you hate to admit it, you miss the feeling already

his cum seeps out of your pussy, spilling onto your clean bedsheets, and you glare at him, telling him that this was his fault

he rolls his eyes at you, saying that it was not, you were the one who had moaned his name in the first place

you retort saying that he had come over to your room first, and that you know for a fact that he lives in the opposite direction because that’s where all the higher-ups lived

he scowls at you but doesn’t say anything as he dresses in his slacks and picks up his robes from the floor

you stand up, fixing your shirt that had been pushed above your chest and you hold onto the door frame for balance on your shaky legs

he leaves, standing in the middle of the hallway and then turns back to you, and you just stand in the doorway and stare back at him

finally, he mutters out that he wants to see you again, next week, same time

you snort and say now who’s the one begging, and he rolls his eyes and starts walking away, letting you admire the way his back flexes as he walks

he’ll be back next week, you already know it

[tangerinesmommy]

''Do whatever you want love, I'm Yours'' (3.2K Words Story)

A Submissive Tangerine × Fem!Reader Fic

⚠️ WARNING/KINKS: NSFW, SMUT, SEX, CUNNINLINGUS, MAN EATING PUSSY, HEAVY USE OF TERMS OF ENDEARMENTS, FEMDOM, ORAL, F(receiving oral), M(giving oral), descriptions of eating pussy, submissive man, dominant woman, mommydom, good boy, comfort, falling in love

Edit: this can be read as a standalone story but technically is part 2 of THIS

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‘I think, I might fall in love with you.’

The words Tangerine said, were still lingering in your mind. 

He was wrapped up in your arms when you woke up feeling content, with a big grin across your face. 

What a silly fucking man he is. He really said he fell in love with you after the night you two spend together. It was true- the sex was far from imperfections and you two just sorta clicked. Humour wise, personality wise. It also helped that you were awestruck by his looks. His cold blue eyes were endless. His warm orange mustache- so fucking irresistible. 

…for some reason what he said didn’t feel all too silly, did it?

His curly hair was a mess and you noticed some of the hickeys that you left last night. It seemed like he was full of them, but you couldn’t fully see from the blanket covering him.

Moreover, there was such a peaceful expression plastered on his face. All snuggled into you, using you as his body pillow.

It felt strangely comforting having this stranger over.

Just that he didn’t feel like a stranger to you right now. It’s been a while since you felt this adoration and desire for someone. Even more so, for someone you didn’t even know. You don’t even know this ‘Tangerine’ fella. You probably don’t even know his real name. Still here he is. Laying in your bed, wrapped up in your arms- with his head practically resting on your soft breasts. And the world couldn’t feel more at peace. 

He looked at peace, you felt at peace. 

A cute little smile on his face as he was sleeping, soft snores coming out of him, peacefully breathing onto your skin, calming you down. The fuzzy feeling of inner peace and love filling your soul. A wave of protectiveness washing over you.

You wanted to keep him safe. Safe from the world, safe in your arms- safe with you.

And you wanted to listen to his stupid little snores for however long he’d let you. 

You haven’t fallen in love, nor have you felt like falling in love- in FUCKING ages now. 

Your own life was too busy. Work too stressful. There was always- always too much going on to find time to meet somebody. To make somebody part of your daily routine, to share, live and grow with somebody. And yet here he was.

Some gorgeous orange haired man, some stranger named after a fruit, marked up with hickeys from the night you spent with him- laying in your arms and sleeping peacefully. 

A slutty orange haired man and some woman obsessed with making him, hers. What an odd love story. 

‘Mhh… morning, love’ you let go of him as he clears his throat, yawns and stretches. The way- the provocative fucking way his mustache moved with his lips as he spoke turned you so unbelievably on. 

‘Morning, Tangerine’ you respond with a smile and he smiles back at you before turning to his side and snuggling up against you, again. He let out a chuckle and your heart fluttered. Whens the last time you fell in love? Is this what it felt like? 

You held him close to you and caressed his back in a soothing manner. He let out small grunts and sighs and you chuckled with him. 

‘You weren’t that ticklish yesterday.’

‘And excuse ya love, I’m not. I’m just feeling…’ and there it was again. He raised his head, looked up to you. His blue eyes locking with yours and you hoping he meant what he said. That last night was more than just some hook-up. That last night was as meaningful to him as, you realised it has been to you. That this all wasn’t just in your head. More than wishful thinking, more than just a little crush. You two held eye contact for a mere couple of seconds, both of you smiling and anticipating his words. And the world stood still as he spoke softly ‘…enamoured.’ 

He was good at making impressions, wasn’t he just?

‘What you said yesterday about falling in love with me. Was that something you really meant or was it just something you said in the moment?’

‘Oh wow, you don’t ever hold back, do ya?’ He laughed and supported himself on his arms, looking around the room. Which finally gave you a chance to get a good look on the hickeys you left.

Seemed like you really don’t hold back when it comes to him. 

He cleared his throat, his hand raising to move his hair back and feel up his mustache as he answers. ‘Well Darling, you asked me bluntly. I think you can take a blunt answer then. I haven’t known ya for very long, but it’s been years since I've felt this spark in me… enlighten. It’s been years since the last time that I’ve felt hopeful about getting to know somebody. In my line of work, in my life so far I haven’t been able to trust… nor rely on a lot of people but-’ he looked to you and you couldn’t help and realise how very well spoken he was when not begging for you to treat him roughly. 

‘… something about you feels different and I can’t say that I haven’t been a bit of a hopeless romantic all my life, but you feel like what I’d imagine love at first sight to feel like.’ 

There was a moment of silence as you let his words and the realisation of what he said sink in. In the meantime, Tangerine reached out his hand to take yours, raising it to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly.

‘What about you then? Any reciprocating feelings or am I getting ahead of myself now?’

‘I like you too.’

‘Ah, are we back to high school now? Ya want me to write one of those little YES/NO/MAYBE letters to you now luv?’

He joked. You laughed. Still holding on to your hand, kissing it, anticipating your words with his eyes locked onto yours. 

‘Well, pretty boy, something about you does feel… special. Something about you feels right. Like, I look at your face and I want nothing else but to spend the rest of my life with that sexy mustache on my side. You know? Kissing me, eating me out.’ 

Love- and perhaps also Lust confessions come so easy when staring into eyes, that are as endless as any ocean you’ve ever seen. Waves of love coming over you the longer you stare.

‘Okay well, I have more to offer than just my mustache though.’ He whispers against your hand, chuckling as he plants another kiss on it, still holding on to you. It’s clear you’re both eye-fucking eachother when he starts kissing your wrists. 

Instantly you grabbed his chin, pulling him towards you and kissing him ferociously. Sticking your tongue deep inside his mouth, feeling it up. Placing your hands on the back of his head and on the side of his face, pulling him closer.

He didn’t resist, not that he wanted to anyways. He let you lick, kiss and feel up his mouth however hard you wanted to. Pulling him closer and closer, a bit of drool dripping out from how hard you went. He didn’t do much with his tongue, just moaned into you. Wait. He didn’t do much with his tongue?

You pulled out with a bit of a puzzled look and a small whiny pout.

‘Why aren’t you doing anything, darling? You okay?’

He smiled teasingly. What a bastard. ‘Just saving my tongue for something else.’

You understood. And god you wanted nothing more.

‘Oh? Is that so? Somebody’s eager to please.’

‘Of course I am. I’m your good boy, remember?’

Marry me- 

is what you wanted to say, but it was a bit early for that, wasn’t it?

So many thoughts filled your head, your heart started racing, but before you could say anything Tangerine started kissing your chin. 

As soft as anyone has ever kissed it before, you barely could feel it. His lips touched you softly, his perfect mustache brushing against you, it tickled and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

He nipped at it playfully too. You felt surprised at how careful and affectionate he was being. But you enjoyed it. Greatly. So you didn’t do much besides watching. 

For now. 

Your chin to your neck were being kissed softly. He was careful, not to leave any marks.

Very much unlike you. 

Kissing your collarbone, with his mustache grazing your skin. You were so sensitive already, so turned on- his mustache tickled you extra much. He was getting a lot of irregular breaths out of you. His lips leaving pecks, making small endearing sound- whining with how eager he was to please you.

It didn’t take him very long to reach your breasts. Kissing your right one, massaging your left one with his hand. It was as if his hand and lips were synced, sucking on your nipple with the exact same delicate strength that he was pinching the other one with. 

Tangerine was sucking eagerly and moaning as he did. Fuck. 

Both of you were breathing heavily by now. Your brain had stopped working with how turned on you were, and all you could do is reach your hand up to his hair and ruffle his curls.

At some point you had enough willpower to huff out the words ‘good boy’ while stroking his hair and pulling it slightly. Getting moans out of him, as he was out of you. 

He chuckled. ‘listen it’s fine. Just let me pamper you a bit, mommy’ 

He knows damn well what gets you going, It’s not even been a full day. And he already knows how to play with you. 

‘Fuck you.’

‘You can.’

Both of you shared looks, laughed and he continued taking his sweet time pampering and worshipping your breasts, specifically your hardened nipples.

It made you moan a lot more, than you would have thought. 

Tangerine was not only talented, he was very observant. He had worked you up, left you wanting more. 

Usually people would take this chance to tease you, make you beg and dominate. 

But Tangerine did not. No, he held onto his words of being a good boy. One that wants to please you, worship you and eat you out. 

So when he noticed from your body language that you were ready for more and wanted more- he didn’t waste a single second, to give you exactly what you wanted. 

Kissing down a trail from your breasts to your belly. Nipping at your sensitive belly button carefully but enough to make you buck your hips. His hands following him down your body, gripping your sides and tracing your curves. Caressing you before they grip your thighs.

His breath hitched at the sight of your core. Yours did, at the sight of him down there. 

You didn’t know what to expect when he lifted his face and locked eyes with you.

But you noticed his demeanour, his devotion showing. You could tell from his body language that he was deep inside of that mind space, they call subspace. Ready to serve, ready to be yours once more.

‘May I have your permission?’

‘To do what?’ 

You replied with confidence and dominance. Your mommy persona, your assertiveness, your authority- that he so clearly respected and yearned for, showing.

Even with you being so sensitive from the pampering he’s been doing to your body- You will always be in control. You would always be Mommy.

And you could see from his smirk, that he loved it. 

He was flustered as you asked him to clarify, but he couldn’t hide that he was into it and into you.

‘To eat you out, miss. To make you cum, make y-‘

‘Shush, you do. Now put your mouth to use already.’

After all that teasing, you were eager as well. Eager for him to eat you out, eager for him to make you feel good. 

The moment he stuck his face into your cunt, you heard him moan. 

A low, guttural sort of moan- coming out of him the moment, he breathed you in. 

Some words, some nothings were mumbled from his side. The vibrations of him speaking into you making you, even wetter.

‘Fucking hell.’

Tangerine didn’t seem like he could hold himself back anymore.

His tongue licked from you slit to your most sensitive clit. A big fat, wet stripe, teasing enough to have you groan. Before you could instruct him to do anymore, he was already making nasty wet sounds. Slurping, mumbling, moaning.

He was your slut, for sure.

But he was good at what he did. Working on your inner lips (inner labias).

Sucking on them. Feeling them on his nose. Breathing them in. Groaning. 

Like a starved fucking man, with your pussy the source for life itself. 

He added a finger soon enough. But you noticed how he wasn't looking at you. His eyes were closed.

‘Aren’t you gonna look at me, dear?’

‘Y/n you taste so fucking good. I’m sorry love, I-‘ he looked at you and oh how you missed his sluttyself.   

‘No, no. That's not your choice to make, baby. Keep your eyes on mommy.’

He wasn’t hesitant to follow the orders you gave him. Not at all.

’Yes, mommy.’

‘See that’s better.’ 

Tangerine moved from your inner labia to your clit, his mustache kept on tickling you. You loved every desperate noise and movement he was making and kept on staring at him. 

And he truly was trying to keep his eyes locked with yours, but you tasted like heaven to him, so his eyes kept on fluttering.

Your hand moved through his locks, giving his scalp a massage before gripping a fistful of his fluffy curls to hold onto. He struggled even more to keep his eyes open now, moaning at your grip. ‘Fuck, darling’

The hand that kept on holding a fistful of your ass went to your cunt.  And he slipped his index finger in. Although, with how wet you were it took only a sweet little chuckle from the both of you, to know you were ready to take two. 

He pointed them upward and started the cliche motion of ‘come here’. Hitting your G-spot repeatedly. It certainly got you breathless and moaning quite fast. 

His tongue kept on softly sucking your clitoris. Flicking it with his tongue and at the same time sucking it into his mouth more and more. 

The mix between his hands and mouth stimulating you was one thing, but what was even hotter was how desperate he was being.

How desperately he wanted to please his mommy.

How with every lick, he moaned into you. Desperately trying to get closer to you, shoving his face into you deeper and deeper.

He’d gotten you far into bliss. Making you feel so much pleasure. 

It brought him so much pleasure, he started humping the bed. 

Humping out of neediness, out of eagerness. Humping because he wanted to give you his everything and his all.

The sight, the Touches. His desperation, his Neediness- his Submissiveness.

All things that got you closer and closer. 

Your legs were spasming. With your thighs clamping around his head, almost suffocating him.

But if he’d die right there, he’d die a happy man. 

Your back was arched with all the pleasure going through your body. And you kept on holding onto his hair. The grip strengthening.

Pulling it- his head, his hair towards you. With your body shaking the way that it was, you pulled him upwards. He was fighting back, trying hard to stay nose-deep inside your cunt.

His eyes- now fully focused on yours.

You, yourself couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. It was overwhelming, all he was doing to your body felt simply- too good.

Too pleasurable, too exhilarating. Too Perfect.

He didn’t stop and you didn’t want him to.

You kept on pulling his hair. Being overtaken by the pleasure.

Until you heard him scream. Not a guttural low moan, it was a deep scream of pain. You let go of his hair immediately, realising it was you who brought him pain.

‘Fuck, I’m so sorry.'

Obviously you didn’t mean to hurt him, you also didn’t mean for him to pull away his mouth and stop eating you out. 

Before you could say anymore and tend his scalp, Tangerine said words that made you cum from just the sounds of them. 

‘Do whatever you want love, I’m yours.’

That simple phrase, those simple words. 

From the man that was a mere stranger a few hours ago and is now slowly turning into the love of your life- made you cum, instantly. 

He was a bit surprised to see you cum from his words, but the smug smile on his revealed his pride. You two laughed it off and he licked you clean.

What a gentleman. 

———

Finally out of bed, sitting in your kitchen you made coffee for the both of you.

It was the first time, in what felt like ages, you two saw eachother in clothes again. 

Some robe of yours bound lazily around your waist and him dressed in his normal suit attire again, with only his hair a bit out of place. The rest of him looking as taken care of as when you met him. 

You handed him a mug and sat across him. Both of you laughing to eachother lovingly, once again eye-fucking.

‘Love, I wanted to tell ya, you taste fuckin divine. Excuse my language’

He sipped on his coffee and smiled at you, before briefly looking away. You kept your eyes on him and noticed the distress in his expression. 

His eyes said so much. They were telling a story to you. You could see the pain in them. The man must have been through something. At the same time, his eyes were so unbelievably cold. Was it only because they were blue? You wonder what it is he does for a living. 

There was still so much that you didn’t know about Tangerine or his life. But whatever it was like. You wanted him to share it with you, to become a part of it and make it better.

He sighed out loud. 

With a very concerned tone in your voice you asked him. 

’What is it?’ 

And with a big sigh he started talking.

‘..As much as I’d love to, I don’t know if I can fit a relationship into my life-‘

Your heart broke momentarily. Of course. Of course! It was too good to be true, wasn’t it just? 

No, it was fine. Your own life was too busy anyway. You were just being dramatic. Pfft- catching feelings for a hook-up. Some stranger named after a fruit, ha. 

‘It’s okay, I under-’

‘Let me finish.’

‘Oh?’ You laughed, his sharp tone catching you off guard. 

He looked embarrassed, speaking with a tone like that, to you.

‘Mhm, Sorry love, force of habit. Hear me out, please.’

You nodded. And he cleared his throat.

‘As much as I’d love to, I don’t know if I can fit a relationship into my life, but I would very much like to try.’

A soft smile formed on your face. 

‘I’d like that.’ 

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🍊Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

Share, comment, like, CUM to it!! See you next story ;)🍊

[mencantaleer]

Feliz Halloween

Línea alternativa donde el mandarín no muere.

Set after defeating white death.

Synopsis: Just tangerine being a good boy.

Reader over 18, 2000 words. mdni!

Warnings : rough sex, Sub!Tangerine, Dom! reader some degradation, compliments, mild humiliation, a little tangerine fluff.

You are so excited to see your boyfriend after weeks without seeing him, to the point that when he comes home you jump on him to kiss him, and little by little the situation escalates to the point of having him in your bed, you sitting on his lap and when tangerine wants to undo the buttons of your jeans you stop him.

-When he comes back I want to see you naked and on your knees,” you mention as you start to walk away lifting a bag from your closet as you make your way to your bathroom.

-And if I don't listen what will you do, will you punish me mommy,” she challenges you.

Your eyes darken with desire at Tangerine's provocative words. You can't deny that it turns you on that he behaves like a spoiled brat, you know you'll soon give him what he deserves. A slow, mischievous smile spreads across your face as you lean in close to his ear, your hot breath against his neck sending ripples that create a tent in your boy's pants.

-Oh, I think you'll find that disobedience has its consequences, sweetheart,” you purr, sliding your hand down to rest on his penis that still remains covered by the fabric of his pants threatening to pop out. And believe me, you'll enjoy the punishment I have in mind.

You bite her earlobe and then whisper: “But if you're a good boy for mommy and you listen to everything I tell you now, maybe I'll show you how rewarding obedience can be,” and without further ado you go into the bathroom to change into what you had bought a few days before, taking care of every detail meticulously. When you get ready to leave the bathroom you see Tangerine sitting on the bed with a challenging look and with her clothes still on.

-Oh, you want me to punish you, don't you? -you tease him, you watch his eyes that have a hint of mischief in them as he tries to reach out to feel the lingerie you are wearing and when he is about to touch you, you firmly grab his hands, forcing him to look at you- Not so fast, only nice boys can touch and today you are just a little rebellious brat that needs to be disciplined.

-Come on, come on, let me touch you,” he purrs, as he watches you.

-Good boys earn their rewards, remember?” you mention as you stare at him.

-Don't be like that, let me touch you, I know you're excited,” he mentions while he tries to change your mind, but he doesn't succeed. You bite her earlobe and then whisper: “But if you're a good boy for mommy and you listen to everything I tell you now, maybe I'll show you how rewarding obedience can be,” and without further ado you go into the bathroom to change into what you had bought a few days before, taking care of every detail meticulously. When you get ready to leave the bathroom you see Tangerine sitting on the bed with a challenging look and with her clothes still on.

-Oh, you want me to punish you, don't you? -you tease him, you watch his eyes that have a hint of mischief in them as he tries to reach out to feel the lingerie you are wearing and when he is about to touch you, you firmly grab his hands, forcing him to look at you- Not so fast, only nice boys can touch and today you are just a little rebellious brat that needs to be disciplined.

-Come on, come on, let me touch you,” he purrs, as he watches you.

-Good boys earn their rewards, remember?” you mention as you stare at him.

-Don't be like that, let me touch you, I know you're excited,” he mentions while he tries to change your mind, but he doesn't succeed.

-If only you had been a good boy everything would be different, now you can only see me but not touch,” you reply as you tie him to your dresser chair and move it so he can see your bed. You stop to watch as you walk to the bed and sit down so he has a privileged view of what is about to happen. One of your hands slides up your thigh, playfully brushing against the thong you're wearing.

-Well, I guess I can show you what I'm feeling-you lean back a little so you can see better as you slowly unbutton your corset. Your pale skin and toned abdomen are revealed inch by inch. You squeeze your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra, squeezing them as you begin to move in circles. Your hips begin to move, rubbing together to seek friction as you stroke faster. Pinching your nipples through the bra, biting your lip to hold back a moan. The sensations are intense, raising your libido to 100%, not only are you enjoying yourself but you are punishing your bitch as she watches you get pleasure without her help, we gauge her reaction as you play with your tits. Her eyes are glued to your body, her breathing is agitated and the bulge in her pants is a case, she only needed to see you touching yourself to reach orgasm and she demonstrated that by staining her pants with semen, creating a whitish stain. That doesn't stop you from sliding your panties down your legs.

-Mmm, you like watching me touch myself, don't you, brat? See how wet you make me, how much I need this. -You slide a finger under the wet fabric, circling my entrance provocatively. I bet you wish you could fuck me right here, don't you? Bend me over this bed and take me real hard so everyone can hear me screaming your name.

You stick a finger in your dripping pussy and pump it slowly as you slide your hand down his pants caressing his member. Your free hand moves to caress your breast, pinching and pulling your nipple through the thin bra. Waves of pleasure radiate through me as you shamelessly touch yourself in front of Tan.

Your breathing becomes ragged, your hips jerk as you feel yourself close. You can feel yourself throbbing, your orgasm building. You want to cum, and you feel a wave of pleasure run through your whole body making you shudder.

-That's it, you were very good. You could have got rid of the ropes but you controlled yourself not to do it, you deserve a reward, pretty boy. - You deserve a reward, pretty boy.

-Please, please,” he says in a husky voice full of need. Please let me fuck you. I need to be inside you, to feel your heat tight around my cock. -Get undressed and get on your knees now,” you order as you see how he hurries to comply with what you ordered, and you can not help but smile as you see him like a puppy all eager to receive his prize, too bad you will not make it so easy, when he finally gets rid of his clothes and kneels before you, you order him to look up.

-You see it wasn't that hard to follow orders sweetie, but I need to make sure it's clear to you,” you say as you bring your fingers to his mouth, ”Tell me how much you want to fuck me, beg for it.

-I beg you mommy,” she moans as she pushes your fingers into her mouth, sucking on them as if her life depended on it, ”I need to be buried deep in your sweet pussy. I need you to mark me as yours, I need you to make me feel like your slave.

He tilts his head up as he continues to lick your fingers, “Please, my queen,” he whispers softly and seductively, “Let me worship your body. Let me serve you as your sex toy to soothe your desire,” he moans softly.

-Mmmm… good boy-your hands run over your pet's body while you kiss him possessively, making it clear who is the owner here-you can fuck me, but never forget that I am the one in charge. Tangerine's eyes light up as you give her permission, a mixture of relief and excitement flooding her features. She rises from the floor and begins to kiss you desperately.

-Thank you, Mommy,” she growls, her voice hoarse with desire. I promise to be your good boy and do everything you tell me.

He rolls you onto your back, his body covering yours. Tangerine's hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips tightly. He positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your slick heat.

-Remember that you are mine and that will never change,” you promise in a low, husky voice. You'll never forget who's in charge of the relationship, now just make me feel good pet.

With a powerful thrust of her hips, Tangerine thrusts inside you. He moans as he feels your tight walls surround him and rolls his eyes in pleasure.

-Fuck, don't stop Tangerine or I swear I'll punish you,” you say.

Tangerine moves her hips forward and plunges his cock deeper into your tight, warm clit. She moans at the sensation and drops her head back in ecstasy.

-God, Mistress,” he gasps, his voice strained with pleasure. You feel so good, as if you were created just for me.

He begins to move, his hips moving in a steady rhythm. Each thrust sends sparks of pleasure through your body, increasing the heat between your legs. Tangerine's hands roam your body, caressing every curve and valley. She leans in and captures your lips in a searing kiss. Her tongue delves into your mouth and claims you completely.

-I can't get enough of you,” he murmurs against your lips, his hips never ceasing their relentless rhythm, ‘I need more, always more,’ he moans in your ear as he continues to penetrate your aching pussy.

He moves slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. You cry out when he hits a particularly sensitive spot, your nails digging into his back.

-That's it, my love,” you encourage him, your voice low and rough. Let me feel how much you want your mommy, how much you need me.

He reaches between your bodies and finds your clitoris with his fingers. He slowly rubs the sensitive bud, sending waves of pleasure through your center.

-Make me reach my orgasm Tan,” you order him, your voice brooking no argument. Make me cum until I feel dizzy,” you arch as you feel your impending orgasm.

Tangerine's thrusts become more erratic, her breathing ragged. She's close, teetering on the brink of release. But he's not stopping, not giving up, at least not until he makes you come. He's determined to take you to the edge with him, to share the ultimate pleasure. Suddenly, the climax overcomes you and your pussy contracts around his cock as you stifle a cry of ecstasy. Your hand milks his cock furiously, determined to make him come with you.

-Come on, pretty boy, cum for me, let me feel you, cum with me,” you scream as you feel one last powerful thrust, Tangerine sinking all the way in. She throws her head back and lets out a primal roar as she spills inside you. His hips jerk erratically and his cock throbs as he fills you with his seed. He falls in surrender as he embraces you, pressing his foreheads together.

-That was intense, wasn't it,” you murmur as you try to catch your breath.

-My God,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse with emotion. It was… indescribable. The way you took control, the way you dominated me… it was like nothing I've ever experienced before,” she says as she runs her fingers along the line of your jaw, her touch as light as a feather. Tangerine's eyes search you with a mixture of admiration and adoration in their depths. -You brought out a side of me I didn't even know existed. A side that craved submission, that needed to relinquish control-She leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips. “And the pleasure… my love, the pleasure was intense. Every touch, every command…it was like a high tension wire sparking through my veins.” -I thought you wouldn't like me, I thought you would hate me after this,” you reply as you snuggle into his chest.

-I could never hate you, I just want to say… Thank you.

-What are you thanking me for?” you ask, still a little unsure of his reaction. -For showing me this side of myself. For making me feel things I never thought I could feel,” Tangerine's hand slides down your side and her fingers intertwine with yours, ‘I love you,’ she mentions before falling asleep.

-I love you too Tangerine,” you reply as you cover him with the blanket and then lay down and hug him.

I have to thank @tangerinesmommy who is the great creator of Sub!Tangerine, she inspired me to create this one shot, thank you <3.

Happy halloween to all.

Comenta, rebloguea, te leo.

(Contenido resubido) Lo subí de nuevo porque el post anterior estaba en español, olvidé traducirlo ;).

My requests are open if you want to ask for something <3.

[hcneymooners]

⋆ angel of mine; i’m probably gonna think about you all the time.

biker!sevika x stripper!chubby!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: when you get news of your grandmother’s declining health, you pack what’s left of your life in miami and begin to head home. on the way you meet enigmatic stranger sevika, who gives you a ride.

wc: 10k

cw: age difference! stripper!reader, chubby!reader, fem!reader, mommy issues, implied melvika, implied melvika x reader, strangers to lovers, roadtrips, biker!sevika, resolved sexual tension, codependency, found family, dysfunctional families, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, exhibition kink (implied), degradation, name-calling, dom/sub, dom!sevika, sub!reader, hyperfemme!reader, lowkey sugar mommy!sevika.

notes: you can definitely tell i’m southern in this piece. i love the south despite it not loving me (black, sapphic, & female) back. so much of florida contains my family and love though i left it. i hope that comes through. i’m really proud of this and i hope you enjoy. so sorry for any typos i may have missed. let me know what you think & if you want a full melvika x reader pt. ii ! i love you. 𓆉⋆｡˚⋆❀ 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖°

playlist: lana born to die: paradise album. listen here.

The white teeth of Miami were always going to eat you alive.

That’s what your grandmother used to say, her voice crackling over the phone, sweet but certain, the way only old women could be. She didn’t say it to scare you—just to remind you that the city, for all its glitter and heat, had sharp edges. She was a lioness, and you were good meat.

You’d felt it too, walking barefoot along the highway, heels swinging in one hand and your purse in the other. The sunset was dying behind you, streaks of cotton candy pink, baby blue, and tangerine smeared across the horizon like someone had finger-painted the sky in haste.

Your cheeks still sparkled faintly under the fading light, remnants of glitter you hadn’t scrubbed off from work. It clung stubbornly, refusing to let go. You’d braided the front of your hair into two plaits that went straight back, falling apart in the middle to join the rest of the mass—wavy and tinsel-streaked. It was your “mermaid hair” as your younger sister loved to call it. You blinked heavily, your 60s-style lashes dragging their soft bodies across your plush cheeks.

The ache in your feet was grounding though, pulling you out of the haze of the club—the strobe lights, the bass that rattled in your ribs, the haze of too many eyes on you.

You’d gotten through the night, but just barely. Grandma’s sick. That had been the thought looping in your head as you swayed under the lights, pretending to be something more desirable than tired. Your mother had called, her voice small and broken. She wouldn’t tell you where she was. I’ll be home tomorrow, you’d promised anyway and then you climbed back on the stage.

You’d scraped together what you could tonight, but not enough for both a cab and the medicine your grandmother needed. The last bus out of town was fucked, something about a technical failure. So, you walked, the stretch of highway endless, the heat still radiating off the asphalt like it was sinking into hell.

You were so distracted by both your raging anxiety and oncoming hunger that the headlights caught you off guard. A single beam at first, low and flickering, until the growl of the engine grew louder, sharper, swallowing the silence. You turned instinctively, lifting a hand to wave—desperation bleeding through the gesture.

The motorcycle slowed. It wasn’t just a machine; it was an extension of her.

Its rider was tall and broad-shouldered, her presence filling the space before she even spoke. A thick, short braid of dark hair hung over her shoulder, catching the light like polished onyx, and her face was all hard angles—sharp jaw, strong brow, a faint scar cutting through her upper lip. She leaned forward slightly, resting her weight on a prosthetic arm that gleamed silver in the twilight. Her eyes, cold at first glance, raked over you, measuring.

For the millionth time that night, you became painfully aware of your appearance. You hadn’t had much time to change before rushing out, so you were stuck in a turquoise spaghetti-strap tank that clung uncomfortably to your skin and a pair of low-rise grey sweatpants, the faded mall-brand logo on the hip barely holding on.

Your purse—a tiny baby pink crossbody clutch—was stretched to its limit, struggling to close over your overstuffed Polo Assn. wallet, its dark brown leather warped by thick stacks of crumpled bills and nearly maxed-out credit cards.

A single white earbud perched in your left ear, the mile-long wire snaking under the loose neckline of your tank and into your hands, where your phone gleamed faintly in the glare of her headlights. Glittery gold, covered in 3D bubble stickers of pale pink and cream roses—your little sister’s handiwork.

Between the heat of the phone and the plastic of the case, you’d tucked a Polaroid: you, your sister, and your aunt, all dolled up in perfect makeup and hoop earrings, the three of you grinning wide enough to make the moment feel permanent. Behind the photo, folded neatly, was a note.

The faintest whiff of smoke clung to you, softened by bellini, cherry, and peach. You’d tried hard to be sweet, always sweet, but it wasn’t enough to cover the night’s work. Especially not tonight.

“You lost?” she asked, her voice gravelly, low, like the rumble of her engine hadn’t entirely faded.

“Not lost,” you said, voice softer than you intended. “Just… trying to get home.”

You were always trying to go home.

She raised a brow, glancing at your bare feet and the glitter still dusting your face. “Long walk.”

You shrugged, exhaustion pulling at the edges of your face.

“No choice.”

For a moment, she just stared at you, her expression unreadable, before she nodded toward the seat behind her.

“Hop on. I’ll get you there.”

You hesitated, your gaze lingering on the gleam of her prosthetic, the way it contrasted with the calloused hand gripping the throttle.

“What’s your name?” you asked, finally, your voice quieter now.

She huffed faintly, tilting her head. “Sevika. And you?”

You gave her your name, your voice carrying the weight of gratitude but a lack of trust. You weighed your options—you had none—and decided that you could only hope she wasn’t insane.

You thought of the note in your phone case.

“Lord, I confess i want the clarity of catastrophe but not the catastrophe. Like everyone else, I want a storm I can dance in. I want an excuse to change my life. Lord if I say bless the cold water you throw on my face, does that make me a costume party. Am I greedy for comfort if I ask you not to kill my friends if I beg you to press your heel against my throat - not enough to ruin me, but just so I can almost see your face.” (x.)

Then, without another word, you climbed onto the bike, your fingers brushing against her shoulders as you steadied yourself.

The engine roared, and the wind hit your face, carrying you forward into the night. You bent your neck, tucked your head into her back, and began to pray.

❀

You woke to a soft hand on your skin.

“Hey. You up?”

The words were quiet, almost careful, but they pulled you from the thin edge of sleep. For a moment, you were disoriented. The ceiling above you was unfamiliar, white with faint water stains bleeding outward like bruises. The couch beneath you creaked as you shifted, and smelled of saltwater and lavender. There was a thin blanket draped over your shoulders but it felt impossibly heavy, anchoring you in place.

Sevika was leaning over you, her face shadowed but sharp in the dim light spilling from another room. Her hand lingered on your hip, her touch surprisingly gentle.

“Come on,” she said, her voice low and gravelly, rasping against the quiet. “Mel wants to meet you.”

“Mel?” you asked, your voice still thick with sleep.

“She lives here. She’s… persistent,” Sevika said with a dry edge, stepping back to give you room to sit up. “And she’s got a thing for taking care of strays. Don’t worry, she’s nice. Nicer than me, anyway.”

The apartment was small, but the stomach of it was softened by a clear effort to make it feel like home.

The walls were painted a pale cream, though the paint was peeling in the corners, and the floors were scuffed wood. The furniture was mismatched, but there was a warmth to it—a knitted throw slung over the back of the couch, a row of half-burned candles on the coffee table, the faint scent of coconut and vanilla lingering in the air.

The windows were open, letting in the salt-thick breeze of the early morning, and a line of photos pinned to the wall swayed slightly, the string barely holding on.

Mel appeared in the doorway to what must have been the bathroom, her figure backlit by the soft, yellow glow. She was taller than you’d expected, her frame lithe but strong, and her black braids pooled over her shoulders like an oil spill, gleaming in the dim light. She held a cherry red hairbrush in one hand and a small bottle of lotion in the other, her brown skin catching the light beautifully.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice rich but cautious. Her eyes lingered on you for a moment, warm but searching.

Most people tended to treat you this way. It was as if you were a scared animal and they were trying to coax you in.

You nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

“Yeah. Sorry—I didn’t mean to intrude here.”

“You didn’t,” Mel said quickly, stepping closer. Her tone softened, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Sev doesn’t bring people home unless she has a reason. You must’ve needed it.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Your gaze flicked to Sevika, who leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her broad chest, her prosthetic glinting faintly in the soft light. She was watching the two of you, her expression unreadable.

“I’ve seen you before,” Mel said suddenly, drawing your attention back to her. Her smile turned wistful. “At The Siren, right?”

The mention of the club sent a ripple of recognition through you. You nodded slowly, and Mel’s expression shifted, her eyes softening further.

“I thought so,” she murmured. “You helped me once, in the bathroom. I was… having a bad night. You were so sweet.”

The moment came back in pieces. Her face streaked with tears, her voice trembling as she spoke about her mother, about leaving home. You’d handed her a tissue, touched her shoulder lightly, said something comforting.

“I remember,” you said softly, your voice catching in your throat.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Mel said, her gaze steady. “But I’m glad you did.”

She knelt in front of you, holding up the brush. “Let me help you. You’ve had a long night.”

You hesitated, but something in her expression, in the calm warmth of her voice, made you nod. She guided you to the bathroom, which was small and tidy, the mirror rimmed with salt stains and seashells.

As she brushed your hair, her touch was careful, her fingers grazing your scalp like she was afraid of breaking something fragile.

“You’ve got beautiful hair,” she said softly, almost to herself.

“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice faint. “You smell nice.”

Her laugh was quiet, and you felt the warmth of it root deep in your chest.

“Coconut oil,” she said, but there was a blush creeping into her cheeks. “Mixed with vanilla. I like to smell dewey and sugary. Kind of like you.”

You smiled tiredly at her in the mirror, lifting a hand to pat at her wrist. The tender powder pink of your acrylics were bright against it. Behind you, Sevika leaned in the doorway, her presence as steady as a shadow.

“You’re making her shy, Melly,” she teased, her voice like gravel underfoot.

Mel glanced at her, rolling her eyes, but you caught the faintest smile tugging at her lips. As a final touch she added a large bow clip to your tamed strands; it was lilac and worn at the ends.

When you were cleaned up, you reached for your purse, pulling out a crumpled bill.

“Here. Let me—,” you began, holding it out.

Mel’s expression shifted, her smile fading into something more serious as she cut you off. She pushed your hand back gently.

“Honey, you don’t owe me anything.”

The sincerity in her voice caught you off guard, and you tucked the money away, unsure of what to say.

Sevika cleared her throat. “Where are we headed, anyway?”

“Tampa,” you said.

She raised a brow, her smirk returning.

“Figures. You seem like a Tampa girl.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Sevika just shrugged, her mouth twitching.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

The three of you stepped into the early morning light, the ocean-heavy breeze brushing against your skin. You didn’t even know you could live this close to the ocean in Miami.

You turned back and caught Sevika and Mel in silent conversation. There was something unspoken between them, between you, something you couldn’t quite name. For now, though, you let it rest.

Grandma’s sick, you reminded yourself. You had to keep going.

❀

The rest of the day swelled with humidity, the horizon bruised with the threat of rain. The Cadillac’s engine purred low, its growl humming beneath the croon of soft rock spilling through the speakers.

You kept your eyes on the window, the world outside blurring as heat shimmered off the asphalt and smeared the palms into a haze.

Sevika hadn’t said much since you got in her car. She didn’t need to.

There was a quiet kind of ease in her presence, a stillness that somehow made the grief gnawing at your chest feel less unbearable. She drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the window frame, her fingers idly toying with a cigarette she hadn’t yet lit.

The smell of the car had settled around you—leather, faint smoke, and something warm you couldn’t name. It was the kind of smell that made you think of safety, though you didn’t know why.

Your phone buzzed in your lap, the screen lighting up with a message from your mother.

Sorry, baby doll. Grandma’s on the brink.

You read the words twice, three times, and still they didn’t make sense. Your fingers tightened around the phone, your nails pressing into its glittery gold case, and something sharp and hot clawed its way up your throat.

Sevika glanced over, her brow furrowing.

“You good?”

You nodded quickly, your lips pressing together to hold back the tears that were already welling. But it was no use. They spilled over, fat and hot, streaking black mascara down your apple-round cheeks.

You turned your head, pretending to watch the passing trees, but your reflection in the window gave you away.

“Shit,” Sevika muttered, low and rough. She took one last drag from her cigarette, then flicked it out the window. “Hold on.”

She pulled off the highway, her movements smooth and deliberate, and guided the car into the gravel lot of a diner. Its neon sign flickered faintly against the gray sky, Chuck’s written in soft pink cursive. The building was small and sweet, painted robin’s egg blue with white shutters and lace curtains framing its windows.

Sevika parked and cut the engine, turning to look at you.

“Come here.”

Her voice was softer now, but it still carried that unshakable steadiness. You hesitated, your hands trembling in your lap, but the look on her face left no room for doubt. You leaned toward her, and her arms came around you, solid and warm, pulling you into her chest.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, her hand smoothing over your hair. “Come on, angel. Just let it out.”

And you did. The sobs came in waves, ripping through you until you were shaking, your fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt like a lifeline. She didn’t flinch, didn’t tell you to stop. She just held you, her hand a steady weight against the back of your head, her thumb brushing small, grounding circles into your shoulder.

You couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged you like this.

When you finally pulled back, your face was hot, damp, and streaked; your mascara smudged into shadows beneath your eyes. Sevika reached out, her thumb catching the tracks on your cheeks.

“Messy,” she said softly, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

The diner’s door chimed as you stepped inside, the scent of fresh coffee and bread washing over you. The interior was impossibly charming, with its pastel booths, checkerboard floors, and the low hum of a jukebox in the corner. You slid into a booth by the window, the vinyl cool against the back of your legs.

Sevika sat across from you, her body filling the small space like a storm cloud, heavy and unshakable. You stared out the window, watching the rain slip down the glass in delicate rivulets. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled, low and faint.

“You’re strong, you know that?” Sevika’s voice broke through the quiet.

You turned to her, startled. Her eyes were dark, but they were the softest you’d seen them so far, almost tender.

She reached across the table, her fingers brushing your chin. The touch was light, but it sent a jolt through you, her thumb catching against your skin.

“It’ll be fine,” she said, her voice low and certain. “You’ll be fine. You have to be.”

Outside, the rain fell harder, the sound of it filling the silence between you. And then Sevika let go, her hand retreating back across the table.

The rain continued to blur the diner’s windows, the soft pink neon outside flickering faintly against the new gloom. You stared down at your coffee, the chipped porcelain mug warm in your hands, but it wasn’t enough to steady the tremor that had worked its way into your fingers. The realities of the world felt too sharp, too close, like you might unravel right there in your plain sight.

“Talk to me,” you said suddenly, your voice thin and unsteady. “I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack.”

Sevika’s eyes lifted from her coffee, dark and knowing. Her expression didn’t shift, but something gave in the set of her jaw. She leaned back, one arm slung over the booth’s edge, her other hand absently brushing the lip of her mug.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.” You exhaled shakily, your gaze flicking out to the rain before returning to her. “Tell me why you drive a beat-up Cadillac.”

That pulled a small, low chuckle from her, quiet but rich. She tipped her head, the motion slow and deliberate, and for a moment, you felt less like you were shuddering into beautiful pieces.

“You think she’s beat-up?” Sevika asked, her lips curving faintly.

“She’s held together by rust and prayer,” you said, almost smiling. “I’m just saying.”

Sevika’s laugh came fuller this time, a sound that filled the air without disrupting the other patrons.

“Hey. She’s got character. My dad gave her to me when I was nineteen. She used to be pristine—white leather, a real beauty. But time does what it does.”

You blinked, caught on the number.

“Nineteen?” you asked, hesitant. “How long ago was that?”

Her smirk grew, slow and sharp. “Longer than you’d guess, angel.”

Your brows furrowed, curiosity blooming against the weight in your chest. “How old are you?”

Sevika’s gaze lingered, the kind of look that made you feel seen in a way that was both unnerving and magnetic.

“Old enough to remember when you had to rewind your mixtapes with a pencil,” she said, her voice dry, teasing.

You couldn’t help it—a small laugh slipped out, barely there, but it felt good.

“I’ve always had a thing for older women,” you said absently, the words slipping out before you realized what you’d said.

Her smirk deepened, her eyes sharpening in a way that made your stomach flip.

“That so?” she murmured, her voice low and rich, a swatch of velvet dragged through smoke. “You looking for a mommy, angel?”

Heat flooded your face, vicious and unbearable, and you pushed back from the table, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor.

“I’m, um—gonna order something at the counter,” you mumbled, refusing to meet her gaze.

She chuckled, soft and lazy, her voice following you as you turned toward the counter.

“Go on, sweetheart. Take your time.”

The diner felt warmer, brighter, as you made your way to the counter, the fluorescents buzzing faintly above. You kept your eyes on the menu board, your pulse still thrumming in your ears.

❀

It’s four more hours to Tampa, but it’s the most excruciating period of your life.

You’d left the diner a little steadier, Sevika’s arm brushing yours as you climbed back into her car. The Cadillac rattled like death, its leather seats sticky against your thighs.

You leaned your temple against the window, watching as the flat Florida landscape blurred into soft greens and yellows. The air outside was still thick with heat, even with the sun reducing its intensity as it slunk away.

The highway stretched out like an open wound, raw and endless. You fiddled with the radio dial until a bouncy indie pop song filtered back through the speakers, filling the air with a thousand wailing guitars. Sevika didn’t complain, her focus locked on the road ahead.

At some point, she pulled off into a gravel lot in front of a boutique. The building was small and unassuming, its pink paint faded by time. A hand-painted sign swung lazily in the humid breeze.

“We’re stopping?” you asked, your voice hoarse from exhaustion.

“You need other clothes,” Sevika said simply, stepping out of the car. “Come on.”

The shop smelled faintly of coconut wax and dust, its racks crammed with mismatched pieces that managed to appear more curated than random. Sevika leaned against a rack of jeans, her arms crossed, as you wandered through the aisles.

“We’re strangers,” you said eventually, holding up a knit top to your chest. “Why are you taking care of me?”

Sevika didn’t answer right away. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her jaw tightening in thought.

“I remember being twenty-one,” she said finally. “The world was a lot to handle back then. Some days, it still is.”

You lowered the top and gazed at her, mouth dipping in understanding. She was so beautiful here, despite being far from at home in this confectionery store. Her arms flexed gently as she shifted in place, and you resisted the urge to press her hair out of her face.

“I’m sorry that you know what that feels like.”

“You don’t have to pity me,” she said, the response clearly a reflex.

You smiled crookedly and didn’t press further.

The outfit you picked—a striped knit and high-waisted jeans—felt soft against your skin. The knit hugged your curves, the soft plum-colored neckline slipping just low enough to expose the plush swell of your shoulder. When you stepped out of the dressing room, Sevika gave you a once-over, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“You’re a girl with expensive taste,” she teased. “Is that cashmere?”

“It’s my stage name for a reason,” you shot back, smiling softly. “And everything is overpriced here.”

“You look like a doll,” she said, her tone amused.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past her to the counter.

“I’ve got to look a little more appropriate.”

“For what?” she teased. “Tampa doesn’t care.”

“Well , my Aunt Kenna will.”

Unsurprisingly, you found yourself overpowered by Sevika at the register. She pressed her card down, its body sleek and black with silver lettering. Once again, you were struck by the kindness of strangers and you felt your throat tighten.

She gave you a look, as if to quiet your self-effacing urges. Behind the counter, the clerk smiled to herself as she observed the two of you. She was petite and had a pinched face, her hair short and a creamy blonde. Maddie, her tag read. She reminded you a lot of your mother, possessing the same shifty energy of a runner as she racked up your total.

The drive resumed, and with it, you revealed more of yourself to Sevika. You told her about your grandma, about the way she used to braid your hair with fake frangipani from the craft store and sing to you in the evenings where your mother would be gone. How her hands were always soft, even when they were tired. How you used to tuck yourself under the desk at the hospital where she worked when your heart was crumbled by women you definitely shouldn’t have been involved with at eighteen.

You spoke of your aunt, the way she fought to keep the family together, even when it wasn’t hers to save. You spoke of your little sister who in a way was also your child, how you did most things in life for her sake.

Sevika listened in silence, her hand resting on the wheel, her gaze never straying from the road. There was something in her stillness that made you feel seen, even when the words caught in your throat.

When you finally crossed into Tampa, the sky was dyed indigo and gold, the houses lining the street glowing faintly in the dusk.

You rolled the window down and leaned out, your phone poised to capture the image forever on your cracked back camera. You were such a tall child.

The warm air stroked against the moon of your face, tugged at the ends of your hair and dried your lips. You felt Sevika’s hand slide to your thigh, just below the crease of your ass, heavy and grounding, and you froze. Her palm was rough against the soft give of your flesh, her fingers splayed just enough to keep you steady.

“Don’t fall out,” she muttered, her voice tinged with quiet amusement.

“I won’t,” you said, but you sat back soon after, your heart beating a little too fast.

Sevika’s hand lingered a second longer before retreating to the wheel.

The butter-yellow house came into view, its shutters glowing faintly in the twilight. Your breath hitched. It looked the same as it always had, though the paint was more weathered, the steps chipped at the edges.

Sevika pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. The silence was deafening. You fumbled with your purse, fingers trembling, but before you could open the door, Sevika’s hand found your chin. She turned your face toward hers, her thumb brushing just beneath your jaw.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she said, her voice low and steady. “Always is.”

Her eyes held you in place, dark and unflinching.

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if you believed her. Before you could think too much of it, you leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her cheek. Over her scar.

“Thank you.”

Her mouth parted, but the screen door creaked open, and you saw your aunt step onto the porch, her arms crossed and one brow raised in quiet judgment. You hesitated, glancing back at Sevika.

“You could come in,” you offered, the words heavier than they should have been.

She hesitated, her gaze flicking to your aunt before landing back on you. She pushed off the seat and got out to follow you, her presence like a shadow at your back.

The porch light hummed faintly as you step inside, and a creamy warmth filled your chest. Your sister cheered when she saw you, and you laughed—your eyesight blurring. For the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe.

❀

As always, you dived in headfirst and sought out your grandmother’s room.

It was a terrible mistake. You couldn’t handle seeing her like that.

Almost immediately, bile surged up your throat, sharp and acidic, and you bolted—pausing just long enough to set the medicine down on her nightstand with quaking hands. You burst outside, where the air was sweltering with salt and the sudden impact of your new reality.

You weren’t good with death, not in any of its forms.

When your daddy died, something inside you cracked clean in half, the break jagged and irreparable. You’d felt a piece of yourself slip down into his grave, like a loose flower. Since then, you’d clung to the hope that love—your love—could somehow keep the people you cared about alive. At least until you felt ready for the loss.

Your chest ached in a way that felt both too familiar and entirely new, like grief had leveled your ribs to construct a home in your body. You rubbed at it absently, trying to dull the pressure blooming there, blinking hard against the rising tide of tears.

She was going to die. You knew this. It settled into your stomach like lead, poisoning you.

Behind you, the woods creaked, the trees’ chorus soft and low, like they were joining you in mourning. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Hey, angel,” Sevika said, her voice low and warm, the kind of soft you wouldn’t have expected from her. It caught you off guard every time. “You alright?”

“I’m not going back in there,” you said quickly, your voice brittle and thin.

“You don’t have to.” There was a pause, long enough to make your chest tighten. Then, quieter, “Can you look at me?”

You hesitated, staring down at your hands, at the chipping polish on your grown out tips and the way your fingers trembled. You could feel her waiting, patient and steady, like she’d stand there all night if you needed her to. Finally, you turned, slow and reluctant, until your eyes met hers.

Sevika stood at the edge of the porch, broad shoulders framed by the faded light. Her face was unreadable, but not unkind.

“Come here,” she said, barely above a whisper.

You didn’t think. You moved, inching forward on unsteady legs and stepping into her orbit. Her hands came up instinctively, one curling around your elbow, the other hovering just above your waist, as if she wasn’t sure where to touch you.

“I can’t go back in there,” you repeated, your voice cracking.

“[Name]—,”

“She’s dying.”

“But you knew that. You can’t leave her when she needs you the most.

“I’m tired of people fucking needing me.” You crossed your arms over your torso, holding yourself. “They all just leave anyway.”

“When you love people, that’s the process. That’s life’s price.

The words hit you like a perfect blow, and before you could stop yourself, you were crying—big, fat tears that streaked your cheeks with warmth and made your mascara run. You tried to turn away, but her hand found your chin, tilting your face back toward hers.

“Hey,” she murmured, her thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s unfair, I know. Trust me, I know. Let it out.”

And you did. You let the sobs take you, let them rip through you wave after wave, until you were clinging to her shirt, the fabric balled tightly in your fists. She held you through it, solid and unfaltering, her hand steady against your back.

When the tears finally subsided, you felt drained, like you’d been wrung out and left to dry. But her arms stayed around you.

❀

Sevika managed to coax you inside, shivering and bleating like a lamb, but the house was newly unbearable.

Every room smelled like antiseptic and something sweetly rotting beneath the surface, a scent that clung to your hair and the back of your throat. The walls felt too bright, too alive for what was happening inside them.

It was like the house was mocking you. Every sound—your grandmother’s labored breathing, the clock ticking too loudly in the kitchen, your little sister’s restless movements on the couch—seemed to close in on you.

You couldn’t stay. Not in that room, not in that house. Maybe you took after your mother more than you liked to admit.

Your sister looked so small on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her and her face blank as she stared at the flickering TV. She was holding onto the hem of her dress like it might unravel if she let go and the man on the screen promised to get her a spot in heaven, under God’s thumb. Bullshit.

When you spoke, your voice was soft, barely audible over the droning hum of the television.

“Get your shoes on, bug,” you said. “We’re going to the beach.”

Her head snapped up, her wide eyes searching yours for a moment before she nodded and slid off the couch.

You were almost out the door when your aunt caught you, her voice sharp but quiet.

“You better know what you’re doing with that woman.”

Kenna’s words stopped you cold, the strap of your bag digging into your shoulder as you turned to face her. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her face shadowed by the dim porch light.

“I don’t know what I’m doing with her,” you admitted, your voice low. “But I know I trust her.”

Your aunt studied you for a long moment, her gaze heavy and cutting. Finally, she stepped aside, her expression softening just enough to let you know she wasn’t angry, just worried.

“I know what infatuation looks like. I know what love looks like too, even when it’s still on its way. It’s coming, baby. Just—,”she sighed, breaking off.

“Just be careful,” she finished.

You hugged her tight, sagging as she slid a hand over her hair before letting you go.

Sevika was waiting in the car, her arm draped over the steering wheel, her face unreadable in the twilight. Your sister climbed into the backseat, curling up immediately with her Lisa Frank coloring book, and you slid into the passenger seat without a word.

The drive was quiet, the low hum of the city filling the space between you. Sevika didn’t push, didn’t ask what had happened inside. She just drove, and you were so grateful you could’ve kissed her.

The beach was nearly empty when you arrived, the sun beyond gone now. You spread a blanket out on the cool gray sand, letting your sister run down to the water. Her laughter echoed faintly, carried by the breeze, and for a moment, you let yourself relax.

You pulled off your woven cover-up, revealing the soft orange bikini you’d slipped on. The well-loved fabric clung to you, accentuating the plush curves of your body in a way that made you stall for only a moment. But then Sevika looked at you, and the way her gaze dragged over you made all air flee your throat.

She swallowed hard, her jaw working as she tore her eyes away and stared out at the water instead.

“You look nice,” she said, her voice gruff.

You snorted, sitting down on the blanket.

“Nice?”

“Very nice,” she amended, but the rasp in her voice gave her away.

“You do too,” you told her and you meant it.

She was gorgeous in her black cropped tee and little black cargoes. This was “as beachy as she was willing to get”. You didn’t give a damn. You wanted to eat her alive.

The sky deepened into a hazy indigo, the stars faint and scattered. Your sister danced along the shoreline, her feet splashing in the shallow waves. You watched her, your chest aching with something you couldn’t name.

“I wish this was my entire life,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Sevika.

She turned to you, her brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“This,” you said, gesturing to your sister. “Taking care of her. Taking care of my daughter with my wife. No illness, no bills piling up, no—” Your voice broke, and you swallowed hard. “No worries. Just a quiet life.”

Sevika didn’t respond right away. When you finally looked at her, her face was so soft in a way you knew was probably a rarity. Her prosthetic raised in an aborted motion, as if she’d thought to touch your face.

“I could take care of you, baby,” she said quietly, the words slipping from her lips like a promise.

Your breath caught, your pulse thrumming in your ears.

“Come back with me, [Name],” she said, her voice low and steady. “Stay with me and Melly. Bring [Sister’s Name]. You don’t have to do it alone all the time.”

The fantasy of her words pressed against your chest, warm and overwhelming. For a moment, you let yourself imagine it: her, Melly, your sister, a life where the world's heaviness couldn’t crush you.

Your sister called out from the water, waving a piece of driftwood she’d found, and the moment broke. Sevika’s hand brushed yours, solid and grounding, and when you turned back to her, her eyes were still on you, waiting.

The tide lapped at the shore, the sound mingling with your sister’s laughter, and you felt a rising pulse in your mouth, on your tongue.

“They do fireworks at the docks. You have to pay, but we sneak in all the time. You wanna see?”

“Sure,” Sevika said.

The answer came so easily and you knew she’d give you everything. Maybe even love you forever. The thought made you tingle and you dug your toes into the sand.

“Let’s go,” you said, your pinky twisting around hers.

You both knew you weren’t talking about the fireworks.

With a wry smile she rose and set about taking you home again.

Your sister—forever your baby—was curled fast asleep in the back seat of Sevika’s car by the time you pulled out of the lot, her face slack with the kind of peace only children seemed capable of. Her soft snores filled the space between you as Sevika drove back to your grandmother’s house, the streets quiet and warm, lit faintly by streetlights. The evening air hung heavy, sticking to your skin like a second layer.

You glanced at Sevika as she drove, her profile lit in flashes by the passing lights. Her grip on the wheel was loose, but her fingers drummed absently against the leather, her thoughts somewhere else. Maybe with you.

You wondered if she was nervous. You wondered if she knew how much you were.

“She’s out like a light,” Sevika murmured, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Guess it’s just us.”

You swallowed, your fingers playing with the hem of your cover-up, and nodded. “Just us.”

Your aunt was waiting on the porch when you arrived. She was perched on the railing, her vape glowing faintly in the dark. You knew the scent without looking: cucumber, apple, and sour cherry.

Her sharp gaze moved between the two of you as Sevika carried your sister inside, her long stride easy and steady despite the weight of the little girl in her arms.

“Enjoyed your family outing?” Aunt Kenna asked, teasing but pointed, as you lingered by the door.

You blinked at her, startled, heat rising in your cheeks. “It wasn’t like that.”

She snorted, taking a long drag. “Sure it wasn’t .”

❀

The docks were quieter than you expected when you arrived. Most of the families had settled in their little corners, kids running barefoot across the wooden planks, their laughter echoing into the open sky. The air smelled of pear, peach blossoms, and distant charcoal grills, a mix of sugar and fire that felt like the very essence of where you’d been born and raised. 

Sevika parked far enough away to avoid the crowd but close enough for you to see the shimmering reflections of the boats swaying in the dark water. She leaned back against the hood of her car, her long legs stretched out in front of her, and watched as you wandered closer to the edge, the creamy orange of your tiny bikini glowing faintly in the dim light.

You should’ve been illegal.

“Careful, angel,” she called, her voice warm, fond. “You fall in, I’m not jumping after you.”

You turned, smirking, the breeze tugging at the bow sitting pretty in the middle of your full breasts. 

“I can swim.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to fish you out,” she said, but her smile gave her away. She was watching you so intently, her gaze loaded, as if committing you to memory.

You walked back toward her, your arms wrapped around yourself, and stopped just a foot away. The tension between you was almost tangible now, electric. You could feel it humming in the air, in the way her eyes lingered on the curve of your wide hips, the dip of your collarbone. It made your breath hitch.

“I’ve always loved the docks,” you said softly. “They feel… timeless. Like you could stand here forever and nothing would change.”

Sevika hummed, tilting her head to look up at you. “You think that’s a good thing?”

You shrugged, your lips curving faintly. 

“Sometimes.”

The first firework burst above you then, a bloom of pink and gold that lit up the sky and reflected off the water. A shock of red followed shortly after. You both looked up, the moment suspended, the sound of the explosion echoing in your chest.

You glanced at Sevika, her face bathed in the soft glow of the fireworks, and felt something shift inside you. Something undeniable.

The show continued, and you moved to lean against the hood of her car. The metal was warm and your stomach was buzzing at the nearness of Sevika’s broad body.

By the time the fireworks were halfway through, you couldn’t focus on them anymore. The loud bursts of color seemed secondary to the way Sevika was lounging next to you, her broad shoulders relaxed, her eyes soaking in the way goosebumps bubbled along your arms. It felt like she was daring you to do something, to cross the line you’d been dancing around since she’d swept you off the highway.

You moved closer, your bare feet brushing against hers, and she straightened slightly, her head listing to the side as she watched you.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, her voice low.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. 

“I’m thinking…” You trailed off, your fingers twisting in the sides of your bikini bottom. “I’m thinking this feels… nice.”

Her lips quirked, just slightly, but her gaze was serious. “Nice?”

“So good,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel… safe with you. Things are perfect like this, and—and I’m probably never gonna feel this way again.”

The words hung between you, honest and raw, and you could see the way they landed on her, the way her expression softened, her guard slipping for just a moment.

“I’d never hurt you,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “You know that, right?”

You nodded, stepping even closer until you were standing between her legs, the warmth of her body seeping into yours. “I know.”

You didn’t, really. She could be selling you a paper thin dream. But your hope had always been the largest part of you. It spurred the flame you felt for her, your aching burning desire to be with her all the time. To ride by her side without question. 

Her hand came up then, hesitating for just a second before settling on your waist. The touch was light, almost cautious, but it sent an electric current straight through you.

“Sevika,” you whispered, your voice stumbling.

She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against your cheek. 

“Yeah?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you closed the gap between you, your lips brushing against hers in a kiss that felt just right, like the tide meeting the shore. Your body lit up, and you collapsed into her—trusting and free. 

She stilled for a moment, as if surprised, but then her hand tightened on your waist and she kissed you back, slow and deliberate.

The world seemed to fade then, the fireworks a distant, glittering symphony in the black sky. All you could feel was her—her warmth, her strength, the way she seemed determined to hold you together even as you felt like you might fall apart.

When you finally pulled back, your breath coming in weak gasps, lightheaded and aching to faint, she rested her forehead against yours, searching your dilated eyes.

Your lip gloss was smeared across Sevika’s jaw, leaving a streak of shimmering peach and rose that caught in the fleeting light of the evening. It clung to her skin, soft and vivid As she moved, the stain glistened faintly, the contrast against her sharp, weathered features sending a slow, aching thrill down your spine. 

It was yours, this faint, glittering mark, lingering in the space where your mouth had been. She made no effort to remove it.

“Angel,” she murmured, her voice rough. “You sure about this?”

You nodded, your hands clutching at her shoulders. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she pressed another searing kiss to your lips. 

“Come on,” she said, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Let’s get in the car.”

❀

Your palm slapped hard against the roof, your teeth almost tearing through your bottom lip as you tried to hold back a loud moan. 

Beneath you, Sevika gripped the copious flesh of your ass as she sucked at your clit. 

“Oh, shit, Sevika. Fuck.”

In the beginning you were so careful, worried about blocking her airway. With a hard slap to your ass she pulled you down, relentless in taking all of you. 

“Hnnnnnh,” you whimpered. “Sevi, fuuuuuck.”

Sevika hummed in satisfaction at that. As she watched your face she grazed your clit with her teeth, relishing in how you arched. 

You were so warm and supple between her fingers, your pussy slobbering over her nose and mouth. You tasted so good, so musky and honeyed. She never wanted to let you go. 

Slowly, she slide you down and pressed you down to her chest as she undid your bikini top so that your tits spilled eagerly against her own. She then tenderly tucked two fingers inside of you, cooing as you whined at the stretch. 

She began to bounce you by the fabric of your bottoms, forcing you to ride her fingers until they were covered in the thin film of your wetness. You moaned at her strength, at how easily she’d decided how you’d take her. 

“Good fucking girl. So sweet, aren’t you, baby? Hmm?”

“Sevi, please. Just—just a little faster.”

She grinned meanly, inserting a third finger and curling them—raking cruelly against your g-spot. You sank further into her, swiveling your hips if only to get her deeper. To take her harder. Your pussy was weeping, emptying itself onto her hand.

“Jesus, sweetheart. You’re leaking all over me. ‘M never gonna get this out of these seats.”

“Good,” you breathed out, smiling impishly.

Sevika’s eyes darkened and she suddenly rearranged you till you were on your back against the leather seats, your legs wholly spread. she lowered between them, licking a long stripe up to your clit experimentally. 

She had you soft and loose. You didn’t realize just how spacious this car was.

You moaned, high and loud, snapping into an arch until you were forced to come back down, Sevika’s arm holding your hips firmly. Your eyes were closed now, and your eyelids were no longer just black, explosions of color staining them, ripping through you.

Sevika lapped at you, taking her time but still intentional with the way she touched you. She used a hand to spread you apart burying her face into her pussy, her nose becoming wet again with your rabid need. She became messy, moving her head back and forth, slurping at you until you were almost shaking, on the edge of something greater.

Settling back just slightly, she spat harshly into your cunt and rubbed it into your clit, pressing down until it was close to painful. You couldn’t breathe correctly. You couldn’t even remember your name.

"Sevi. Sevi. Mommy, oh my fucking God.“

Sevika said nothing, just caught a lip of your cunt between her teeth, biting down as she slid her fingers back in.

"Unh," is what you had to add to the nonexistent conversation and Sevika grinned against you.

She spread her fingers and then curled them, dragging your hips into her lap as she sat up. You couldn’t feel your fucking legs.

"Yes. Yeah. Yeah, just like that. It feels so fucking good."

Sevika was driven and vicious, determined to eat away at the woman beneath her. You curved your back as your orgasm approached, determined to feel it all the way up in the cavern of your mouth. You needed this.

Sevika leaned over you, tilting your head down so that you were looking at one another.

"I want you to keep looking at me as you cum."

You made a faint noise of agreement and clutched at Sevika’s arms. She took your hands and placed them underneath your knees, so that you could hold yourself open. It spread you apart until she was able to view how pink and puffy you were. 

“I can’t wait to get you in bed, honey. ‘M gonna bend you over, open that tight little cunt with my cock, and watch you swallow me.”

“Oh.” You let a little groan of satisfaction as she thumbed at your clit. 

Sevika pressed your foreheads together and thumbed at your mouth. You felt both here and there, brain blanking. 

“Ohh,” she mocked you with a slight smile. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You cast your head back as Sevika returned her mouth to your pussy, suckling at it in combination with her fingers carving a space deep inside of you.

"Come on, angel," she urged. "Be good for me."

You were trying, goddamnit.

"Gonna take a photo of this creamy cunt. Show Melly, tell her that I did this. That you let me."

You let out a high whine, and she nodded in faux sympathy.

“Mmm? Is that what you want to do? Want me to take you to that shitty club and spread you open on stage? Stake my claim?”

A fourth finger now. Her voice dropped as if telling you a secret.

“Maybe I’ll slide some cold, hard cash into this slutty cunt, stretch that slit.” Faster now. Your toes curled. “ Fuck. I’m sorry, baby. Mommy just wants to slut you out.”

She pressed a delicate kiss to your cunt and you were unsure if what came next was just the slam of your hand against the door echoing or another firework going off. 

All you knew was that the world around you was roaring, that she refused to stop. All you knew was her digging into you. 

You imploded.

❀

The drive back was quiet, the tension between you still palpable but softer now, sated and sleepy. Sevika reached over once, her fingers brushing against your cheek and you shifted, pressing the petals of your lips into the center of her palm without hesitation.

When you finally pulled into your grandmother’s driveway, the house bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, you turned to her, your heart full to bursting.

“Stay,” you said, your emotions splayed wide open. “Just for a little while.”

She looked at you for a long moment, and then she nodded. “Okay.”

You both knew it wasn’t just for a little while.

❀ 

The house smelled like hibiscus and coffee when you walked in, the faint scent of six-dollar soy candles lingering in the corners. Your aunt was at the sink, her hands submerged in soapy water, her curls pinned back with a clip. She turned when she heard the door creak open, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Sevika trailing behind you, broad-shouldered and quiet.  

“You brought her back?” she asked, not in a disparaging manner, though her tone carried the weight of an older woman who’d seen it all.

“[Sister’s Name] forgot something in her car,” you lied easily, gesturing toward said alibi, who was peeking into the kitchen while rubbing a fist over her eye, her drowsy greeting muffled as she dragged her blanket behind her.  

Your aunt didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue either. Instead, she flicked her chin toward the counter. 

“If she’s staying, she may as well help.”  

Sevika looked at you, one brow arched slightly in amusement. You shrugged, trying to play it cool, though the idea of her folding herself into your life—even for something as mundane as this—made your stomach swoop. 

The kitchen was broiling, almost unbearably so, with the old oven humming faintly and the humidity from the day still clinging to the walls. Sevika rolled up her sleeves, revealing the curve of her forearms, the prosthetic gleaming faintly in the soft overhead light. 

You tried not to stare, but your eyes kept drifting—over the way her hands moved as she dried the dishes your aunt handed her, the faint flex of muscle under her skin.  

“You ever wash a dish before?” your aunt asked, a smirk tugging at her lips.  

“Plenty,” Sevika admitted, her voice low and even. “Did a couple restaurant stints when I first came to this place. I was hoping to never do that shit again.”  

You bit back a smile, ducking your head as you reached for a towel to dry the counter. The space felt smaller with her in it, her silhouette filling every corner, her quick movements electric.  

Your aunt glanced between the two of you, her gaze lingering on Sevika before she handed her another plate. 

“You’re a hard worker. Good. She needs someone who can keep up.”  

Sevika’s lips quirked, but she didn’t respond, her attention focused on the task in front of her.  

The radio crackled faintly from the corner, playing some old Cuban bolero your aunt loved, and you found yourself swaying slightly as you worked, the rhythm infectious. You caught Sevika watching you out of the corner of her eye, her gaze soft but intent, and your cheeks warmed.  

“You dance to this too?” she asked, her voice pitched low enough that your aunt didn’t catch it.  

“Sometimes,” you said, keeping your focus on the counter. “Not for free, though.”  

She chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in her chest. “Figures.”  

Your aunt, oblivious or maybe just tactfully ignoring the tension that weaved itself between you, turned to Sevika with a clean dish in hand. 

“Rinse this for me, would you? And don’t let her distract you—she’s been trouble since she could fucking walk.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sevika said, glancing at you with a spark of amusement in her eyes.  

The night wore on, the kitchen growing quieter as your aunt finally finished and stepped out to check on your sister. You stayed behind, leaning against the counter as Sevika dried her hands on a threadbare patch of towel. 

“I can’t believe you were hustling in restaurants,” you said, nodding toward the sink.  

She smirked, tossing the towel onto the counter. 

“Don’t sound so surprised. I can be a delight.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

 “Thanks for helping.”  

“Anytime,” she said, her voice softening slightly.  

You watched her for a moment, the way her shoulders seemed less tense now, the way her hair caught the light. The memory of her hands on you earlier still lingered, watering over your skin. It was a secret only the two of you shared.  

“You okay?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she stepped closer.  

You nodded, though your chest felt tight, your pulse thrumming in your ears. 

“Yeah. Just a little tired.”  

Her hand brushed yours, just barely, but it was enough to make your heart skip. She noticed, her gaze dropping to where your fingers nearly touched before she pulled back, her jaw tightening.  

“We should get some sleep,” she said, her voice quieter now.

“Yeah,” you murmured, though you didn’t move.  

For a moment, neither of you did, the hum of the radio the only sound in the room. Then she stepped back, giving you space you didn’t want, and you let her.  

❀

Your bedroom felt much like the inside of a shell—quiet and strange, the air soaked with a mixture of rose, magnolia, and something darker, something that sat low in your chest. You could still taste the golden slices of your childhood, still feel the ache in your ribs that came from building elaborate forts. 

But now there was Sevika, solid and steady beneath you.

As soon as the door had closed, she’d taken you apart slowly, carefully, as though she’d known you needed it to feel stable again. 

The rough pads of her fingers, the soft murmur of her voice, the way she called you princess like it was the only name you’d ever had. And you had suffered in silence, hand across your mouth as you clenched and shook around her head for the third time, then the fourth. 

You’d finally tired after a good ride on her thigh, holding on desperately to the nape of neck. Her baby hair was soft there, tender. She came when you kissed her nose, slid down to her mouth, and called her beautiful. She’d whimpered, bucked awkwardly around your fingers, and you held her to you as you whispered her name. 

You’d looked it up in the bathroom. Sevika. Of Indian and Sanskrit origin. Servant of God. 

Now, she lay between your legs, her head resting heavy and warm against your stomach. The weight of her felt magical, made your body feel more virginal than it ever had been, and you sighed lowly as the first rays of sunlight slipped through the blinds, casting pale gold stripes across her back. 

The swan wings stretched with her every move, the feathers catching flight as she breathed. Muted ivory and soft grays leaned tenderly into the faintest hints of lavender and navy blue, the delicate gradient of ink glowing against her deep, bronze skin.

You reached out, tracing the curve of a wing’s tip near her shoulder blade. The ink felt warm under your fingertips, her skin soft but unyielding. The swan’s head, nestled at the base of her neck where the wings met, was elegant and sharp, its eyes bright as if they could see into you. You followed the line of its neck with your thumb, your touch lingering at the place where her spine dipped, and she hummed low in her throat, a sound that vibrated through your body.

She tilted her head, her cheek brushing against the softness of your belly as her eyes opened slowly, sleep still heavy in her gaze. 

“You like it?” she murmured, voice rough and low.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re beautiful.”

You had already said this, and the reminder made you blush in embarrassment. A slow, lopsided smile tugged at her lips, and she closed her eyes again, sinking deeper into you as if she belonged there. You felt her hand slide up to rest on your thigh, her fingers splayed against your skin, holding you in place like she was afraid you’d disappear into the rising morning.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, and you flinched at the sound, the world outside pressing back in. Sevika didn’t move, just let her hand trail lazily up your spine as you reached for it. The screen glowed with messages from your aunt:  

aunt kenna 𓆉: Couldn’t get anyone to cover the rest of my shifts this week. aunt kenna 𓆉: Mom’s still kicking. She’s getting stronger. aunt kenna 𓆉: Ty for coming home. See you soon. Love you, bug x 

Still alive, you thought. The words lit up something inside you, bright and raw and impossible to contain. You laughed, the sound catching on the edge of a sob, and dropped the phone onto the bed.

“What is it?” Sevika asked, her voice filling with concern.

You didn’t answer right away. You couldn’t. The words tangled in your throat. Instead, you turned to her, your fingers trembling as they found her face, tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her full mouth. 

“She’s still alive,” you whispered, the words spilling out like a prayer.

Her eyes softened, her hand sliding up to cradle your face, her thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth. 

“Yeah,” she said, her voice steady, certain. “She’s a strong woman, just like the rest of you.”

The relief hit you all at once, sharp and overwhelming, and you kissed her because you couldn’t think of anything else to do. It was messy and desperate, your hands fisting in her hair as you tried to pour every unspoken thing into her mouth. She let you, her body surrendering to its basest urges . 

“Still alive,” you repeated, this time against her lips, your forehead resting against hers as your tears slipped silently onto her skin. 

“Mmhmm,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure, her hands steady on your hips. “You’re all gonna live forever.”

You kissed her again, because you needed to. You needed her. 

You believed her. 

And the truth was you didn’t know how good it would get for the two (five) of you. 

You’d look back, let go, lose this part of things. Take your baby sister and leave.

You’d still be you, but you'd be free.

taglist: @miles-42-morales @indigopearl96 @marvelwomenarehot0 @vintagelotus345 @queen-simone @uronlymiaa @namuranguinhos @femlesbianbarbie @femme-historian @vikaswife @powderpinkandsweeet @drgnflyteabox @icespiceluva @theirlaliengirl @supermanwifey @nkeyaaa @batmanslittlelover @strawberrykidneystone @shimmerstraps

© hcneymooners

[bows4tyun]

SOUNDLESS - ! ⸝⸝ 휴닝카이

۶ৎ: "" you have to be quiet baby," he said, his voice curling with desire as he saw your form laid on the bed of the guest room. "you don't want to wake your parents or our daughter, do you?" you nodded gently, a tender kiss to your forehead following."

⌗ pairing! - dad!kai x fem!reader

⌗ warnings! - both kai and reader are parents, softdom!kai, sub!reader, breeding kink, somnophilia, unprotected sex, praise kink, big dick kai, breast worship, soft kisses, kai calls reader sweetie baby and good girl

⌗ lexi adds! - I'm never in my life getting over kai and the romantic concept but dad kai is finally here and I js had to use the romantic concept photo for this !! it took me forever to think of a good plot for this so sorry for the wait!! feedback and reblogs are appreciated! :3 (not proofread!)

kai couldn't say no to you when you requested to visit your parents' house for a full week, especially since this meant that yumi, your three year old daughter would have bonding time with her grandparents.

the only thing he regretted was agreeing to stay for a full week. this meant seven days without sex. how would he possibly go seven days without sex? he'd go insane. or maybe he wouldn't...

it was your fourth day there, kai was sitting on the couch with your dad as they chatted while a soccer match played on the tv. your mom was helping feed yumi as she sat in her feeding chair, eating a tangerine. the baby's giggles and laughs echoed across the kitchen and into the living room, catching kai's attention.

his head turned, a smile immediately crawling to his lips when he saw his baby's smiling face. he got off the couch and onto his feet, making his way into the kitchen as he wrapped his arms around your waist, catching you by surprise.

"kai! you scared me!" you said as he leaned down and rested his head on your shoulder lovingly.

"sorry, baby. I didn't mean to, I just wanted to see how my two favorite girls are doing." he mumbled softly into your neck and planted a soft kiss on your jaw before heading toward yumi's feeding chair. he cupped her face and kissed her forehead softly, squishing her cheeks in an affectionate manner. "is the tangerine tasty?"

yumi didn't hesitate to nod her head, your mom popping another slice into her mouth. Kai chuckled, ruffling her hair a bit "don't eat too much, you'll still have to eat what grandma made, okay?"

yumi reached her head, protecting it from any more touches, "papa you'll ruin my hair!" she laughed as she saw kai throw his hands up like a burglar.

"okay okay! I didn't mean to disturb the princess" he spoke jokingly, emitting another giggle from yumi.

you smile warmly at the innocent and cute interaction between them. finding how similar yumi really was to her dad, she was just like him. it was no surprise to you that she was a daddy's girl.

your mom turned to kai as he laughed together with yumi. "kai, will you be the kind gentleman you are and get the plates ready?"

kai nodded eagerly "yes ma'am I'll do it right away!"

with a menacing glare she also looked at your dad, who was being a complete couch potato. "hey you! get over here and help kai prepare the table!"

your dad stood up quickly, not wanting to face your mother's wrath. "right away, sweetie!"

you giggle and turn to your mom, who switched personalities and was now smiling brightly at yumi.

⸝⸝

after dinner, you were helping your mom clean the kitchen, you washing the dishes while she cleaned the counter and watched yumi play from afar.

when you finished, you sat on the couch, your mom following and sitting right beside you. yumi turned and smiled, her fond look just like kai's.

"I can't believe you have such a perfect family. perfect husband, perfect daughter... do you plan on having another baby?" your mom asked, making you think.

"I don't know. if kai thinks he can handle taking care of another yumi then maybe." your mom chuckles at your response .

"yumi's not a bad kid. she's great. she's the best granddaughter I could ever ask for." your mom's devoted grin planted one on your face as well. yumi climbed on the couch, hugging your mom tightly and kissing her cheek softly.

suddenly kai came into the living room his phone in hand as he checked the time, "hey yumi, time for bed baby."

the three of you looked up and checked the clock on the oven. it was almost 9:00 pm. yumi jumped off the couch with the help of your mom before she ran into kai's arms. he picked her up effortlessly, his bicep muscles showing just the slightest.

soon, everyone was in their rooms, ready for bed. yumi slept in a crib that was place next to your parents' bed, it was almost too small for her since she was growing quickly.

since yumi slept with your parents, that meant that you and kai had your own room.

in the room, kai laid in bed, scrolling on his phone while you brushed your teeth, the atmosphere calm and quiet. after you finished, kai turned off one of the small lamps that dimly lit up the room. from what you could still see of him, he had his arms wide open, inviting you in. "come here baby, I don't want to sleep alone." he whined jokingly .

you scoffed before climbing into his strong arms. they wrapped around you tightly as he flipped you over so that he was spooning you in his arms.

times like this were nice. when it was just you guys, holding each other in each other's arms.

kai once again buried his head in your neck like before, inhaling your sweet scent as he groaned softly at the exhale.

you began to speak softly, not wanting to be to loud in the soft environment that surrounded you two. "my mom asked if we were planning on having another baby."

kai's ears perked up at the trigger word. "another baby?" he repeated your words. a small "mhm" escaping from your lips. "I would but I don't want your parents hearing the process..."

you slap kai's thigh "I don't mean here! I mean in the future."

"ouch... in the future? I'm down. that means we won't leave yumi lonely. she'll have a baby brother or sister to grow up with, isn't that nice?" he sounded so genuine. you felt as soft kisses were planted against your jaw line and kai's arms grew tighter around your waist.

this was always the best part of falling asleep, just you and kai hugging warmly and so comfortably together as one. slowly but surely, your eyelids growing heavier and falling over your eyes.

⸝⸝

kai woke up in the middle of the night, but not for the right and innocent reasons. you'd think he'd woken up to maybe get a glass of water or use the bathroom but no, he woke up to admire you.

kai thought he was a weirdo for just watching you sleep, the sentence itself sounded so wrong.

how could he not admire you when you looked so pretty in your sleep? the small movements of the rising and falling of your chest and the way the swell of your butt pressed against him so perfectly drove him crazy.

it felt right for him to grow hard on the spot. it wasn't like he could help it, your body was pressed to his so closely.

he thought of what you asked him. did he want another baby? it would be adorable to have two cute mini you and him running around the house. but now? how would he keep himself and you quiet while your parents and even your daughter slept in the room across the hall? it would be embarrassing for them to hear. he would never see the end of it. especially since the walls of the house were a bit thin.

he felt like he'd die if he didn't release soon. he'd explode.

his hard was now beginning to get painfully hard.

and with that, he reached and pulled his dick out of the confinements of his pants. just his touch alone was enough to let a low hiss escape his lips.

he looked at your ass, why did you have to wear those tight and tiny shorts?

he moved slowly, keeping his movements minimized in order to not wake you. your shorts and underwear were slid down to the back of your knees, your ass being in full access to him. he felt himself salivate a bit at the sight. your skin looked so soft and felt so mochi-like as his hand rubbed across it like a massage.

with the same deliberate pace, his dick was pressed against your warm cunt's hole. he let out a low sigh as he already felt the warmness that would soon be enveloping him with such welcome, just like it always did.

leisurely, he buried his dick inside of you inch by inch. he watched as your face scrunched up when you woke up to the big stretch of his dick. in shock, you spoke out, your voice breathy, "k-kai! ah-... I said in the future...!"

he covered your mouth with his hand, muffling your soft whimpers. "shh baby... this is the future, no?" he said, now thrusting into you with a bit of force, "just take it like a good girl, okay?"

you squirm a bit when his tip hits the right spot, causing you to squeal in pleasure.

his hand presses harder against your lips. "you have to be quiet baby," he said, his voice curling with desire as he saw your form curling with pure ecsatsy on the bed of the guest room. "you don't want to wake your parents or our daughter, do you?" you shake your head gently, a tender kiss to your forehead following. "good girl, that's what I like to hear baby." more soft kisses were planted all over your face before he showers your shoulder with kisses next.

your walls clamp around his tightly, eliciting a sound of satisfaction from the both of you as kai speeds up, becoming relentless. the sounds of skin slapping against skin echoes in the room and you're afraid that it's loud enough for your parents to hear. you reach to grip kai's hand that was placed on your thigh with a intense grip as he thrusted into you. you give it a squeeze, leading him to slow down just a bit before stopping completely.

"what's wrong, sweetie?" he said, soft-spoken with his words as he lightly uncovers your mouth.

"w-we're being too loud..." your voice breathy as you spoke.

he smirked and chuckled softly, "is that so? are you scared of getting caught? you don't worry, okay baby? just let me take care of you right now." he said as his hands creep back to your waist as he begins to thrust, this time with caution.

his thrusts are slower, yet way deeper than before. meaning his tip was basically pulsing and pushing up on your cervix. "ah-! kai! I'm going to cum!"

"can you do it quietly? " he huffs out, feeling himself grow closer to his climax as your walls gripped him like a vice.

"k-kai...!" he groaned as quietly as he could as you both released at the same time.

"there you go baby... take it, take all of it... I'm gonna get you pregnant again. I'll get another baby inside of you no matter what." he confessed, his words sounding so loving and promising.

you giggle at his words softly, "you can stay inside of me like this just, don't wake me up like that again..."

he smiles warmly " I can't promise it won't happen again."

⌗ taglist! - @hyunj00 @lovingbeomgyudayone (lmk if you want to be tagged in any of my future works!)

[rain-water-flowers]

Tangerine

Sub!Han x Dom!Reader

WC: 1502

Synopsis: Jisung is so desperate that he can't wait for y/n to get home. Without her there, the next best thing is his pillow but then he gets caught and has some slightly intense sex with y/n

Warnings: unprotected sex (be smart pls), pillow humping, sub!jisung, desperation, choking, slight hair pulling, dom!reader, begging, overstimulation, I was craving tangerines when I wrote this, crying, praise, fluff at the end if you squint rlly rlly hard

A/N: I promise I'm trying lmao. The writers block is SERIOUS for TSSOUL chapter 3. Be patient pleaseeeee. Please. Enjoy this Jisung fic while I try to finish chapter 3. Also writing sub skz is different for me sooo was it good? Thanks to my beta @midnighthazee

SKZ Masterlist

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅-`✮´-⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Jisung whimpered pathetically into his pillow, his hips jerking in a frantic, desperate rhythm. He’d been at this for an hour at this point, trying to relieve the constant ache of his cock. But no matter how hard he humped his poor, abused pillow, he couldn’t seem to get any closer to a sweet release. 

He was on the verge of tears at this point. Just when he started to get extra needy, his girlfriend had to be at work. It didn’t help that her sweet scent of fresh tangerines left on their sheets was surrounding him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted breathlessly, sweat beading on his forehead and hips roughly grinding against the pillow. “Need it, need it, please..”

Jisung was so far gone, so lost in his own desperate lust that he started to shut everything out but his own pleasure. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop the needy movements of his hips against the soft fabric. It wasn’t enough, wasn’t nearly enough to sate the hunger in his core, but it was all he had – all he could do to relieve himself. 

“Please,” he whimpered pathetically into the pillow again, his voice muffled and strained. Who was he even begging to at this point? “Please, I need it. Need it so bad. I can’t…I can’t take it anymore..” He trailed off into a strong moan, arousing himself at the sound of his begging. He sounded so out of it, so pathetic. 

He knew he should wait until y/n got home, knew that he was only supposed to seek out pleasure in her – she even told him to wait until she got home, but he couldn’t make his body stop, the need was too much. He was almost ashamed of how he humped the pillows like some sad, desperate slut. 

He was so caught up in his pleasure that he didn’t even hear the door opening. Nor did he hear it closing softly, followed by the sound of the lock clicking into place. He didn’t even hear the small scoff y/n let out at his shamelessness. 

He finally came to his senses when he felt her breath near his ear. He flinched slightly and whimpered as she placed kisses around it, riling him up more. 

“What do we have here, hm?” Her teasing tone cut through the heat in the room. Jisung felt like he might burst into pieces just from seeing her. 

He couldn’t even stop the movement of his hips – if anything, seeing her made him more desperate to rub himself onto the poor pillow. 

“Please, y/n please, I need…” He couldn’t even figure out what he wanted to say, couldn’t figure out how to beg her properly for what he wanted. 

“You didn’t wanna wait for me, baby?” she purred, trailing a finger down his spine. “Didn’t I tell you I’d take care of you when I got home?” 

Jisung shivered at her tone and bit his lip, his cock throbbing painfully at how softly she was speaking. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I just…I needed…”

Y/n tsked and gripped his throat hard enough to make him gasp. His hips bucked and his cock twitched at the sudden treatment. “You needed what, baby? Tell me.”

“Y-you,” Jisung sobbed, curling in on himself as she brought the hand that wasn’t on his throat down to his red and swollen cock. “Ah-ahh..please, n-needed you, needed to feel you.”

Y/n sighed heavily, almost sounding bored, and moved her hand from his throat to his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back. “Begging won’t really get you anywhere, baby. You didn’t listen to me, humping your pillow so pathetically. I don’t think you deserve it.” 

Jisung’s eyes widened in desperation and he let out a high-pitched whine. “Please, please. I’ll do anything!”

Y/n smirked and pushed him onto his back, pushing the pillow out of the way and straddling his waist. She ground her hips down, rubbing her clothed pussy against his aching cock. 

“You wanna feel me wrapped around you, baby? You’re so needy..” Y/n said teasingly, grounding harder against him. 

Jisung bucked up against her, soaking her pants with how wet he was. “Yeah y/n…please I need it! I swear I’ll be so so good for you.” 

“That’s a good boy. Now listen. You’re gonna fuck me until I cum on your desperate, needy cock. And if you’re extra good for me, maybe I’ll let you fill me up, hm?” 

Jisungs eyes rolled back at the thought and he let out a strangled moan. “T-thank you..thank you.” He whimpered out. 

Y/n shuffled out of her clothes, tossing them aside carelessly. She grabbed Jisungs wrists and pinned them above his head as she positioned herself over him. 

She rubbed herself on him, the teasing making Jisung more and more desperate. “Beg for it,” she demanded, biting her lip and smirking down at him. 

“Please y/n, please!” Jisung wailed. “Please let me feel you, I’ll be good, please…I’ll make you feel so good, baby.” The small tears in his eyes started to spill over. 

Y/n let out a soft chuckle and sank down onto him with a low moan. They both gasped as she enveloped him into her tight pussy, Jisungs back arching off of the bed. 

“Fuck..” Y/n moaned, started to bounce on his cock. “Such a good boy for me. Gonna ruin you.”

Jisung could only moan incoherently in response, overwhelmed by the sensation of finally being inside her after waiting for what felt like forever. He thrust up to meet her movement, desperately trying to get deeper. 

“Y-y/n,” he sobbed, feeling himself getting close already. “I’m gonna, ahh-ah..I’m-” He cut himself off with a loud moan as y/n gripped his throat. 

“That’s it, baby,” she muttered. “You can cum. Fill me up.” She started to bounce on him faster, and as she saw him getting even closer, about to burst, she laughed to herself at what she was about to say. 

“I won’t stop though, baby. I’m not gonna stop until I’ve had my fill.”

And when Jisung heard that, he felt his stomach clench, eyes rolling back into his head as he let out a long moan, tapering off into a whimper as he felt himself cum inside her. He shuddered as the intense orgasm hit him, leaving him with more tears in his eyes and his back arching up off of the bed. 

Y/n pushed him back down and held him when he started squirming at the oversensitivity. The only relief he had was the fact that she slowed down slightly as the aftershocks of his orgasm still ran through him. 

“P-please, y/n, I don’t know if I can…I’m so sensitive.” He begged weakly, the whininess in his tone making her clench around him. 

Y/n scoffed lightly and brought her hand to his nipples, brushing over them slightly and making him gasp. “Oh, baby. I think you can,” she purred. “I know how much you love pleasing me, and I’m not done with you yet.” 

She started riding him harder again, impaling herself on his, not-surprisingly, still-hard cock. Jisung cried out at the sensation, his back arching again at her pace. 

“Fuck, you’re still so hard,” y/n gasped, pounding down onto him. “Such a good boy for me, hm? Always ready to make me feel good.” 

Jisung could only moan again in response. At this point his mind was blanking and he was so hot he felt like his thoughts were melting out of his brain. 

His spent cock throbbed painfully as y/n used him for her pleasure. She rode him hard and fast, driving him toward another intense orgasm even as his cock ached with overstimulation. 

“Cum for me again, baby.” She demanded breathlessly. “Fill me up with every last drop, I know you can do it.”

Jisung sobbed and shook beneath her, overwhelmed by the intense sensation. With a hoarse cry of her name, he obeyed, filling her up with his cum. If he was any less overcome with intense arousal and exhaustion he’d be surprised at how much there was. 

Y/n finally cried out and shook above him at the sight of his orgasm, grinding down to prolong her pleasure. She let out a loud moan at the feeling of their cum mixed together and dripping out of her. 

She collapsed on top of him, the both of them completely spent and utterly satisfied. Y/n cuddled into Jisungs chest with a contented sigh, running her fingers through his hair gently. 

“Such a good boy,” she praised sleepily. “So obedient for me… so eager to please.” 

Jisung could only hum in agreement, feeling sleepy, but also happy and content. The last thing he remembered before he fell into a deep sleep was the feel of y/n’s lips pressing against him and her sweet tangerine scent.

[inkedtae]

the underground ⇾ bgc. [M] | PART I

⎡ In a city fuelled by greed and ambition, secrets are a currency. Yet here you are, gambling yours away on a captivating smile.⎤

PART II ➡︎

⌁ pairing; boxer!chan x curvy!reader (f.)

⌁ genre; boxing au, s2l, angst, smut, 18+

⌁ word count; 14.4k

⌁ summary; You’re just a runner. So why the hell are you straddling the lap of an undefeated boxer, massaging his chest and whispering secrets you have no right knowing? Oh, yeah— ‘cause he’s hot.

⌁ warnings; dark themes: mentions and depictions of graphic gang activity, abduction, possession and distribution of drugs, addictions, use of deadly weapons, violence, blood, gore, and death threats, explicit sex: dom!chan, sub!reader, daddy kink, size kink, multiple orgasms, ruined orgasm, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, overstimulation, degradation, dirty talk, handjob, thigh riding, spanking, face slapping (m. receiving), rimming, fingering, edging, manhandling, gun play, anal play, cum play, spit play

⌁ 🎧 now playing... ✩

❥ prefer ao3? keep reading here

❥ i want to give special thanks to jen ( @anobodyslove ) for being so patient with me and reading this monster of a fic over! 💕 and @awrkives for the most amazing banner! 💗

❥ and happy birthday to my channie! here's to another year of unhinged love letters. 🐺🖤

❥ okay so i'm moving this fully to tumblr as well as it being available on ao3 HOWEVER the entire fic is over the character limit for tumblr post so this one-shot has been divided into two parts. both parts are uploaded.

!! the following story contains mature themes, including mentions and graphic depictions of racketeering, gang activity, weapons, drugs, violence, blood, gore, and death threats. please do not read nor interact if these themes cause you discomfort !!

Dusk is a medley of tangerine and indigo. Peachy rays of the sun shine between drifting clouds. A quartered shadow of the moon makes a premature appearance. You breathe in the early October air, eyes fluttering shut with the exhale. Clutching onto the balcony’s rickety railing, the rusted metal so cold on your bare hands, you fill your lungs again, taking deep, slow breaths.

The world stops spinning. The muffled music, once pounding against your temples, fades away. Body steady, you sip on the fresh air and swallow away your nausea.

I can do this, you tell yourself. Just one last drop off. I hand it over and leave.

They probably won’t even recognise you. You let your hair grow past your shoulders and dyed it strawberry blonde. You changed your style, trading your baby pink and blue matching sets for muted mixtures of red and black. Fishnets, little gym shorts, a graphic KISS babydoll tee and an oversized, knock-off fur coat you nicked from a local bodega weeks ago, you transformed yourself into someone new.

You turn back to the glass doors now. Catching your reflection, you cringe at the smudged eyeliner and runny nose. You wipe your hands under your eyes and above your lip, sniffling your worries away. You fix your jacket, reapply your dark red lipstick, and frame your hair around your face.

“I can do this,” you mutter as you slide open the door and step back into the party.

You spot Vince by the DJ, Danni and Andrea lingering nearby. Your heart drops to your stomach. They once told you they hated Day-1 parties, yet here they are, taking shots of gin and robbing the entertainment of their equipment. They once told you they loved you too, that they would never leave you behind. All at once, the three of them turned their backs on you, forever haunting your every waking moment.

You push between bodies. Tonight is not about ghosts. You have a debt to settle.

“Name?”

“Don’t be an asshole, Vik.”

Viktor crosses his arms over his chest. “Think this a joke?”

You fight off a smirk. “Nah, that’s not what I think a joke looks like.”

He grits his teeth, tossing you a vulgar gesture before moving aside. “Bitch,” he hisses in your ear as you walk into the master bedroom.

Red lights, smoke, needles. Two topless women dance to the muffled music, bottles in hand. Three Day-1s watch, one with his hand on his crotch. The bed shakes by them, two junkies bouncing on it like children as another Day-1 makes out with their friend.

By the window, two more members stare out to the street.

Exit compromised.

Gagging erupts from the en-suite, coaxing your curiosity. Another topless woman hunches over the toilet. Horny Day-1 members crowd around the entrance, trousers around their ankles as they watch.

You redirect your attention to the table on the far right. Reggie, point-man of tonight’s drop off, sits facing the door. He flashes a toothy grin, racking his gaze over your curves.

Hands remaining by your side, you fight against the instinct to wrap your coat tighter around yourself.

Reggie calls you over with the curl of two fingers, puffing his cigarette smoke out through his nostrils. 

“Name?”

“Vinny sent me.”

The three men sitting around him exchange glances.

Taking a drag of his cigarette, Reggie, dressed in a blood speckled undershirt and baggy cargos, sits up in his seat. “Is that what I asked?” He looks around his fellow members, drily chuckling with them before repeating, “Name!”

The rules for runners are very simple; there’s only one— Never state your name. It creates a trail and binds you to an affliction. Rival gangs won’t work with a spy, and your name will be the first they spill if caught. You’re simply a messenger, no different than the guy that delivers the same-day Amazon order, distributing grams of coke and meth instead of a Roomba.

Honour gangs, like Day-1, are tricky, however. They have a second rule:

“Never lie,” Vinny warned.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do then?”

“Figure it out.”

You shift your weight. His insistence on your name, knowing you will risk your safety, is simply a test of will and grit. You purse your lips, flirting your eyes over his all too arrogant, lanky frame, and reply, “Bitch.”

Reggie raises a brow. He stands, reaching a hand behind him.

“That’s what everyone calls me,” you quickly add, then you shoot him a wink. “Fat bitch, if you’re nasty.”

The room stiffens. Even the gags from the bathroom cease. You keep your attention tunnelled on Reggie. You watch as he fixes his shirt over his gun, holding your breath when he rounds the table.

Nearly an arms length away, a smile finally settles on his old face. “Where the hell did Vinny find you?”

You force yourself to return that same easy grin and peel back the lining of your coat. “Be sure to ask him that the next time you see him. I’m on a tight schedule.”

Reggie gestures for his members. You pull out the wrapped bags of crystal and pass them out, ignoring the way his eyes devour your frame.

“Are you handling the cash too, princess?”

You try not to cringe at the pet name. Licking your lips, you keep your features soft and peer at him from your lashes. “Not tonight. Vinny said you know where the drop point is.”

He hums. 

You pull your coat back around your body, resisting the urge to recoil under his glutinous gaze. He looks no younger than forty-five, the wrinkles around his mouth and eyes not doing him any favours. Vinny warned you Reggie might get handsy. Under any other circumstance, you would have kicked him in the balls and spat on his face by now. But you’re in Day-1 territory and don’t have a gang of your own for support.

Reggie reaches his hand out. You take a step back.

Before the thrill of your resistance can poison his stare, you flash him a coy smile and playfully whine, “I’m working tonight.”

He nods towards the door, laughing to himself. “Go on then, princess.”

You turn your back to him, unable to force down a gag. Though you’re eager to escape, you keep your steps steady and even. You stride towards the door, knock thrice and shift your weight to make a show of your boredom while waiting for Viktor to respond.

A relieved breath topples out of you once the door shuts. You lean on your knees, shakily trying to catch your breath.

Viktor carefully scans your hunched frame. “You good?” He whispers, voice is strained, carefully void of emotion.

You nod, standing back to your full height.

Hazel eyes lock on you from the bottom of the stairs. Vince furrows his brows. Danni follows his gaze, Andrea already staring, lips moving.

Shit.

They can’t know it’s you, right? From the way Vince merely narrows his eyes, he must simply suspect something.

You turn to face Viktor.

He tosses you a cautious look, muttering, “I can’t help you.”

You know this, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “Just tell me if they’re still looking.”

“Yes.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Viktor keeps his features neutral, posture stiff with his hands clasped before him. “They still got a hit on you, yeah?”

You nod.

“You packing?”

“You know I’m not,” you snap.

Non-members are not permitted entrance if carrying a firearm. You left yours with Vinny before running. Shoving your hands in your pockets, all you feel is your phone, lipstick, and switchblade.

“On the move,” he warns.

“Give me your gun.”

Viktor casts you a sidelong glare. “I can’t.”

You sneak a peek over your shoulder to find Vince halfway up the stairs. You see Danni reaching into her pocket, catching the glare of the lights against a blade. They’re in no rush, but if they make it to the landing before you can secure a proper weapon, you’ll be out of options.

“Do you have a knife?” you ask, taking a step back.

Viktor stiffens.

Shit, are they close?

“Last room down the hall,” Viktor mumbles.

You know you shouldn’t have, but fear triggers adrenaline and soon overwhelms your nerves. Panic binds to your bones, snapping tense muscles into action. You bolt— alone, alarmed. Pushing between drunks, jumping over junkies, you hurry to the farthest room and slam the door. It doesn’t have a lock so you tuck a chair under the handle. Rummaging through drawers, digging through the closet, lifting the mattress, you look for a knife, a gun, anything other than a three-inch switchblade to defend yourself.

The door trembles from the pounding of their fists.

“Come on out!” Vince shouts.

“It must be her! She’s always fucking hiding!” Andrea adds. “Get the fuck out here! Have the balls to face what you did, bitch!”

You find yourself warped in a memory—

“No one wants your boyfriend, Danni,” you shouted. “He came onto me.”

Her open palm landed on your cheek.

Tears gathered in your eyes, face stinging. You stumbled back.

“You’re a lying bitch,” she spat. “At least have the decency to face what you did.”

You blink out of your thoughts, dropping the mattress.

Dresser, closet , bed— Where else could a weapon be? You scan the room, heart hammering with every forceful knock of the door.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Reggie asks, voice muffled.

Your attention settles on the window in front of you. You hurry towards it to find the fire escape.

“Viktor, you sneaky fuck,” you whisper through a relieved chuckle. He wasn’t directing you to a weapon but rather an exit.

You quickly push it up, catching rumblings of orders to blow the door open. Up and out, you jump, sparing a second to shut the window behind you. It might be counter-productive to waste precious time on a window but you know that concealing your exits always gives you a head start.

Rushing down the stairs, you don’t look back upon hearing the loud blast of metal on wood. You just catch their commotion over the heavy bass of the music.

Jumping the final steps, you run.

The Underground sits on the corner of Bank and Third Avenue, tucked under a row of red-bricked townhouses. You lean against the wall, stowing yourself away in the alley to catch your breath. Sirens whirl down the street, casting red and blue lights over your sweaty face. A man of very little wealth stumbles by, clothes torn and stained, waving a sign that reads, JESUS LOVES YOU.

You roll your eyes, wondering where the fuck Jesus was when your parents failed you, when the bank repossessed all you had and when the system passed you from house to house.

The thick stench of sewage and rotten trash suddenly sets in, blighting your next inhale. Leaning over, you succumb to a gagging fit. Thankfully, only bile and saliva gather. You cough and spit it out, then wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. An annoyed sigh escapes you at the realisation that you fucked up your lipstick yet again.

“Just some drunken slut.”

You carefully redirect your attention to the far end of the alley. Two men stand a couple of inches apart. One of them wears a grey tracksuit, glaring at you under the light of the backdoor. He has a towel resting around his neck, just over a thin gold chain. Perhaps in his mid-twenties, his relatively handsome twists with contempt. The other one wears an oversized jersey and low-riding jeans. Though dressed like a boxing fan, you can tell by his rigid posture he’s anything but. No one who gambles their mortgage away on Underground matches stands that straight.

And then you catch it, in the glimpse of the light, the flash of his badge nearly slipping out of his pocket. You wish you were surprised, but you know all too well that it’s dirty cops like this legitimising gang activity.

He pulls his pants up, and continues to pace. “Is he gonna throw it or not?”

“He won’t,” Tracksuit replies, looking over his shoulder.

The dirty cop curses.

“You know how Bahng is,” Tracksuit explains. “He’s too prideful. He won’t ruin an undefeated streak for a few thousand.”

“It’s five hundred thousand, Mickey. Did you tell him that? Does he know?”

Mickey nods, readjusting the towel behind his neck. “And I’m telling you he doesn’t think it’s worth it.”

A shiver dances along your spine at the way the cop’s face hardens. Sinister desperation gleams in his gaze and he pulls out a long knife. In a single motion, he shoves Mickey against the wall and presses the blade against his throat.

Mickey chokes back a scream, throwing his hands up in surrender. “W-whoa, Andy! C-Come on, man.”

Andy bears his teeth, quietly laughing to himself. “Do you think this is a fucking joke? Do you know how fucked I am if he wins this match? Day-1s, Ravens, Siphons— they’re all after me, Mick. I have a family— a fucking career.”

“That’s not my pr—”

“Problem?” Andy finishes, his laughter becoming more manic. “You think it’s not your problem? What do you think I told them when I promised that Bahng would lose?”

Mickey’s face drains of colour.

“I told’em Mick with the little dick can fix it for us.”

Tears gather in Mickey’s eyes. He swallows thickly before shakily asking, “Wh-Why would you s-s-say th-at?”

“Come on, everyone knows you have a small—”

“You know what I mean!” He shouts.

Andy applies pressure with his knife. You catch a trail of blood running down Mickey’s throat.

“L-Look,” Mickey starts, screwing his eyes shut, lips quivering. “He’s hard-headed. The only way he’s not w-winning this ma-tch is if s-someone gets to h-him bef-ore he makes it to the r-ring.”

Andy smiles.

“He takes the long way ‘round. He likes the attention, c-can’t resist it, you know?” Mickey continues. “He goes thr-ough the back h-hall to circle the a-arena and enters the c-crowd from the fr-ont.” He takes a second to swallow before continuing, “It-It would be a real sh-shame if someone g-g-got to him before he can m-make it.”

You watch Andy nod.

“What did you do?”

You jump, hand already grappling for your switchblade as you turn to face your assailant.

Vinny glares back at you.

Giving him a shove, you clench your jaw and hiss, “Don’t do that!”

He corrects his stance, hands in his pockets, then spares a look over his shoulder. “Day-1s are blowing my phone up about some blonde bitch. Did you lock yourself in Tatiana’s room?”

You look back to the other end of the alley. Only flies circle under the backdoor’s light.

“Hey!” Vinny hisses, forcing your attention back to him. “Are you listening?”

“It wasn’t me,” you lie.

He deadpans. “You’re the only bitch I know who has a score to settle with Vince.”

You avert your gaze.

“What happened?” He repeats. This time his voice is less accusatory.

You’ve known Alvin “Vinny” Tucker since you were sixteen. He lived in the apartment above yours and later became your foster brother. You dropped out of high school together a couple months later to sell bootleg Marvel movies on Sixth Street. He really wanted to see Madonna in concert and promised you a front row seat with him if you helped. He was recruited by the Sixers around the time your foster mom came to collect you off the street and force you back to school. He told her where you were, you later found out, to spare you the violence the Sixers had in store for you. He never said it was a debt, though you did feel like you owed him something.

Things changed when Vince set a hit on you. Your description and name were on the radar of every gang, the reward being the acquisition of new territory. The left port is the most sought after piece of land, currently managed by Vince’s father, Vincent Jones Senior. Anyone able to deliver you back to your ex-friends alive suddenly has access to the docks and a monopoly on shipments.

With nowhere else to go, you turned to Vinny. He called Viktor, cashing in a favour, and got to work. The dyed hair, new wardrobe, change of address, it was all done in a matter of hours. And all you had to do was run, hand over the rocks and not attract attention— the goal was simple.

“So how the fuck did you manage to screw that up too?”

“I told you that it wasn’t me!”

“Say that again and I will lose my shit.”

“They can’t prove it was me, okay? Tell Day-1 Vince is paranoid. Run them my old description. Tell them he’s desperate. Let him clean that mess up himself,” you reply, rubbing your temples. “It’s not that fucking hard, Vin.”

You could use a hot bath right now. All you want to do is scrub off the stench of the alley and chaos of the night. For someone who swears he doesn’t want you, Vince took one look in your eyes and knew it was you. He always acted strange but you just thought he was being friendly. It wasn’t until he was rubbing your thigh between shots and rounds of cards that you realised he wanted more than friendship.

You cringe at the memory, pulling your coat tighter around your body, and push past Vinny.

He grabs your arm, yanking you back to face him. “Not that hard? Jesus, you’d think there isn’t a bounty on your head,” he hisses. “You need to be more careful, alright? This is my life too!”

Guilt gathers bile at the base of your throat. You let out a shaky breath, redirecting your gaze to the floor. “I-I know,” you mumble. “I’m sorry, okay? I just—”

Vinny grasps onto your biceps, lowering himself to meet your remorseful gaze. “You can’t panic like that,” he reminds, cutting you off. “The guilty don’t run. You know this.”

“I’m sorry.”

You hate the shakiness of your voice, the admittance of guilt. It’s fucking Vince and Danni and Andrea, the same fucking people that swore they were there for you. It’s their fault everything is falling apart. You’ve known Danni for five years, Andrea for three and both of them just believed Vince when he told them that you were hitting on him, even going as far as kissing him. Had they always suspected you to be a conniving whore, the type of malicious bitch that would risk five years of friendship, of real connection over some guy?

And you were too nice to him— a mistake that now could cost your life.

Vinny releases you with a defeated sigh, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Let me walk you home,” he offers, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

You nod and hug your coat tighter against your body.

He nods towards the entrance of The Underground. “After the match,” he promises. “Sixers have a bet to place.”

Bracing yourself, you follow him down the steps. “Against Bahng?”

“Boxing fan?” he half-jokingly asks, tossing you a confused look over his shoulder.

You shrug your reply.

The main hall smells of sweat and beer. One side holds five queues for refreshments and ticketing, while the other fosters chaos. Men clutching cash and shouting names crowd around the betting stands. Security struggles to keep them in line. Loud rap music plays over the looped announcement of tonight’s opponents — AIDEN MATTHEWS VERSUS CHRISTOPHER BAHNG. You watch their names flash over the screens, pictures of both boxers on either side of the doors. While Aiden is actively fit, muscles and abs on display, Christopher is the embodiment of perfect physique. Muscles defined, shoulders broad, chest puffed out, abs tight and chiselled, he stands with the grace of Adonis himself. Tall, confident, he leers over spectators through the screen with a cold-cutting glare.

Your knees almost buckle.

“It is the clash of titans! Reigning champion, Aiden Matthews, against the undefeated, the unstoppable, the undeniable, Christopher Bahng,” the announcer enthuses over the intercom before urging the audience to lock in their bets.

The only titan you see is Christopher, trailing your gaze up and down his televised body.

“You’re drooling,” Vinny teases.

You turn to cast him a sidelong glare to find he’s no longer by your side. His red beanie bobs in the crowd, through the doors and further into the arena.

“Vinny!” you call, trying to push your way through.

The crowd pushes back, almost throwing you against the wall. You curse under your breath, realising you might have to wait until the match starts to navigate through the arena.

Isn’t there a back hall that circles around, though? You recall Mickey’s words, scanning the crowd for that red beanie again. It still sits atop Vinny’s head by the ring on the other side of the arena. You look for a nearby door or access-point, finding a guarded door to his far left. If you can find the entrance on your end, you can skip through the large crowd and get to him easily.

You survey your surroundings. Another security guard stands before a door to your right. Pushing through the gamblers again and again, you force your way towards him.

“Authorised personnel only,” he gruffly informs.

“I-um—”

“You need to move, miss.” he cuts you off with a pointed look.

“I’m here to see Bahng,” you lie, letting your jacket drop off one of your shoulders.

He raises a brow. “Who commissioned you?”

“Mickey,” you reply before you can stop yourself.

There is much honour among gangs, this Vinny always makes sure you know. He always warns you against dishonesty, especially to certain gang members, since you have no affiliation of your own. But it’s just so easy when you have the right information and you like the way lies just happen to roll off your tongue, effortless and oh-so convincing.

The guard nods, much to your concealed surprise. “Just his type,” you swear you hear him grumble as he opens the door for you.

Hiding a smile, you make your way in without another word.

The back hall is dimly lit. The click of the door echos. Medleys of muffled bass and roaring fans only just seep through and bounce off the brick walls. You adjust your jacket on your shoulders and follow the turns of the hall.

DING!

You jolt, cinching a yelp at the base of your throat. Hastily, you dig into your pocket for your phone.

Vinny: where r u?

You: be there soon

“Lost?”

You look up at the sound of an Australian accent. To your left is an open door of a dressing room, casting a bright spotlight on you amidst the dark hallway. You put your phone away and take quick note of the bodies around the room. Mickey stands by some weights in the corner, eyes narrowing. A handful of medical professionals assess their equipment, rummaging through their kits and looking over clipboards just across from him. By the punching bag, right in front of a wall of mirrors, a couple of men, one with long, icy blonde hair and the other a short midnight black, evaluate your presence.

And there, in the centre of it all, stands Christopher Bahng. Jawline sharp, nose large and lips plush, those big brown eyes soften. You recall the way they were once glaring at his opponent on the screen, wondering what the hell it is about you that makes him opt for a gentler approach. Wrapping boxing tape around his hand, he approaches you.

“Can I help you find something, darling?”

The pet name sounds so casual, so natural, you wouldn’t have guessed that you just met. Your posture relaxes, coat falling off your frame, held up only by your arms. There is a softness in his deep voice that nurtures something forgotten deep within your soul. You feel it- whatever it is- sprout roots in your gut.

Searching his eyes, the cursed word escapes within a breath— “You.”

He smirks.

Does this happen often? Does everyone simply fawn over him?

He smells of leather and vanilla, towering over you. His minty breath fans your face. He rubs his thumb under your lip, cleaning up the smudged lipstick from your chin.

You lean into his touch.

“You’re early!” Mickey shouts from his place in the back. “Sister Maria knows you’re needed after the match.”

Sister Maria can fuck herself, you think. She has tried and failed to recruit you one too many times. Though, if you had known that her clientele was anything like Bahng, you might have reconsidered.

Looking at him now, you can confirm that those screens barely did him any justice. He’s big. It’s no wonder he’s undefeated, the sheer size of him dominating enough. He barely even has a scratch on him, just a couple of cuts on his perfect cheekbones and a bruise that is well on its way to being fully healed, along his jaw. You resist the urge to trace the length of his shoulders, or the ridges of his abs all while leaning in to kiss his wounds away.

Instead, you swallow thickly and nod, “Yes, I-I just got confused.”

Bahng curls a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s okay, darling,” he smiles.

You bite back a moan. God, when did you get this pathetic? So what if he’s hot, and sweet, and beautiful, and huge, and—

“You can wait in here for me,” he nods back into his dressing room. “I won’t be too long.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. He flashes a cocky grin, knowingly gazing down at you. He really is prideful, a bit arrogant too, but you’re not quite sure it’s misplaced. Undefeated in the ring, the only chance anyone has at beating him is by planning an ambush before a match .

Shit.

Your eyes flicker to Mickey. He’s going to kill him. In a matter of minutes, Bahng and his team will circle the arena to enter the ring and get intercepted. And for what? A fucking paycheque?

You shift your weight.

“No!” you shout, starling the room.

All eyes snap to you.

What? You mentally scold. I can’t just shout ‘No’ and expect the entire fucking shit-show to be called off.

Bahng raises his brows. A smile plays on his lips and he lets a chuckle slip. “That needy?” he teases.

Fuck, he’s insufferable… You need to ride him.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you force yourself to concede, “Mhm.” You grasp the waistband of his crimson silk shorts and tug him closer. He lets you, pressing himself against your stomach.

A trembling breath slips.

He holds back a chuckle.

Say something, your mind shouts.

“Fuck me.”

Not that!

He cups your face. The way you instantly melt into his hands is truly pitiful, your chest raging with humiliation. But then his lips meet yours and those roots that grew deep in your gut begin to blossom up through your rib cage and around your lungs. Absolute serenity blinds whatever contempt took purchase in your chest. You try to grapple onto that anger, that disdain, finding this sudden light feeling much too foreign.

But just as his lips cradle yours, this incomparable feeling of pure contentment soothes your panicked instincts. And it’s as though those roots, those branches that sprouted around your lungs, bloom petals of… Acceptance? Approval?

The feeling of his hands trailing down your spine ground you back to him. You wrap your arms around his neck. Cheek by cheek, he cups your rear and squeezes, pushing your hips up into his.

You moan, the muffled sound so frail. His tongue slips through and, for a boxer, he doesn’t put up much of a fight. He lets you take the lead, following your tongue round and round until you release another fraught groan.

And then he’s torn away.

Mickey stands between the two of you. He shoots you a nasty look before pushing Bahng back into the room. You can tell Bahng allows the meek force of his coach to overtake him, lazily stepping back.

The ease of his movements is not what arrests your thoughts, however. It’s the mess of red lipstick around his mouth, of which he makes no effort to remove.

“… and I’ll say it again!” Mickey shouts, his voice finally registering. “No sex before a match!”

You blink your attention off Bahng as Mickey moves to shut the door in your face.

“Let her in,” Bahng orders.

Mickey turns to give him a look. “She’s a distraction.”

You catch Bahng walking towards the weights along the back brick-exposed wall, effectively ignoring Mickey’s protests. “Don’t make me come over there, Mick,” he playfully warns, taking a seat on an inclined workout bench, “Let my girl in.”

You’re in the midst of wondering whether he’s merely his coach, a friend, or both when his final words set in. You hold onto the door frame to keep from falling over. His girl? You’d turn yourself in, confronting Vince, just to hear those words in that Australian accent again.

“You commissioned her for me, didn’t you?”

Right, you think to yourself as you will strength back to your legs. You’re his sex worker. This is nothing personal.

You roll your shoulders back and adjust your stance, channelling bored seduction, as Mickey begrudgingly opens the door.

Bahng calls you over with a nod. He has heavy weights in each hand, curling slow reps.

You lick your lips and force one foot before the other. But his biceps are flushed, flexing with every lift. You can’t help gawking, bouncing your attention from arm to arm, and almost run into one of his men.

“Jacket,” Midnight-hair says, positioning himself between you and Bahng with an outstretched hand.

While there isn’t anything of value left in your jacket, you know that if they find the lining is removable, your cover will be blown. You cannot deny them it either, especially if you want to get close enough to warn Bahng.

So you slowly peel the jacket off, sticking out your chest in hopes of distracting Midnight-hair. He keeps his eyes trained on you, gaze hardening as if he is struggling to commit to his choice. From the corner of your eye, you see Icy-hair push himself off the wall to carefully watch. If they refuse to get lost in your show, you’ll have to switch gears. In one swift motion, you whip the jacket off and roll it to a ball.

Midnight-hair glares. He unfolds the jacket as soon as he takes it– a detail you should have anticipated. Rummaging through your pockets, he announces, “Switchblade, lipstick, phon—”

You freeze.

Though it is quick, occurring in a blink of an eye, you know he sees it, cutting himself off at the realisation.

The lining flaps open.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi—

“Hang it by the door, Seungmin,” Bahng orders.

You meet his gaze. That easy playfulness that once danced within it, now dims into calculated intrigue. You spare a quick glance at Mickey. A relieved breath escapes at the sight of him muttering into his phone, alone in the corner.

Looking back at Bahng, you finally see it. There, sprayed on the back wall in black and silver paint, is a three pointed crown. In the middle, drawn with jagged, lazy lines, are three letters— SKZ.

Of all the fucking gangs.

Stray Kids, speculated to have immigrated from Australia or Korea, have slashed their way to the top of the city’s food chain. The chambering of a round— chk chk boom — shoot first and ask questions later. It’s how they’re known. Notorious for money laundering, drug trafficking, vandalism, extortion, arson, street racing, they’ve swept the city up from the coast to the police department. You’ve witnessed gangs fall silent at their mention, caught the way they would take hold of their weapon.

While there have been whispers about the members, the leader remains faceless. Vinny once informed you that no organisation can become this connected without someone calling the shots. At the time, you wondered if that was the most terrifying thing about them— how unknown they really are.

Staring at Bahng now, white canines on display behind a wicked grin, you realise that his leader’s anonymity is futile compared to the intimidation of their members. It’s their silent power, the ease in which they can rattle bones with a single look, perhaps even crack them with a single blow. You are not sure who Christopher Bahng is to Stray Kids— the muscle, the brains, some money pawn as they infiltrate the underground boxing scene, but you know he is dangerous.

Arousal dampens your shorts.

“Take a seat, darling,” he purrs.

He’s lethal, and your lies are unravelling. If you are going to make it out of here alive, you must reassess your information. You inhale deeply, filling your lungs with wavering courage, and move towards Bahng.

Step.

Mickey is a rat.

Step.

This is Stray Kids territory.

Step.

Bahng knows you are not a sex worker.

Step.

Exits are compromised, Icy-hair now standing at the door.

Step.

Your life is now in the hands of an unrivalled boxer.

Bahng nods down to his lap. You carefully straddle it when it dawns on you— His life is in your hands too.

Half-hard, his cock pokes at the clothed apex of your thighs. Your lips quiver as you try to fight back a pathetic whine.

“My pecs tend to ache after working out,” Bahng sighs, continuing his reps. “Won’t you be a doll and massage them for me?”

You don’t need to be told twice, shifting yourself closer.

His jaw sets at the gesture.

Pecs of pure muscle, big and tight, you take a moment to gawk. They extend beyond the span of your palms, pale skin flushed under your touch. He’s sweaty but cold, nipples hard. You hold his gaze and kneed the heel of your hands into his chest. Again and again, you apply gentle pressure, watching as his brows furrow, large nose scrunches and full lips curl into a pleased sneer.

He hisses between breathless gasps. You resist the urge to catch another kiss at the sound.

“How does that feel?” you ask in a whisper.

Bahng sets his weights down. You notice Seungmin straightening his stance in the corner of your eye. Though your hands start to tremble, you continue massaging, knowing sudden movements might trigger a bullet.

Hands on your waist, he pulls you closer into him. “Have you done this before?”

You shake your head.

“Don’t do much massaging in your… line of work?”

You mentally curse. He knows you’re a runner.

“This is not the body part most people want massaged.” You try but cannot keep your lip from slightly curving, the thought of servicing him on your knees all too captivating.

He presses his fingers into your skin and parts his lips. You can tell from the force of his grip and shape of his mouth what he’s about to ask.

Sparing a quick glance at Mickey, you find he is still tied to his phone, muttering quietly into the receiver.

But then he catches your eye.

“Who—”

You throw your body over Bahng’s, exaggerating the force with a whip of your hair and a loud, erotic yelp to cut him off. You wrap your arms around his neck, press your lips to his ears and whisper, “Mickey is a traitor.”

While he originally hugged your waist to keep you from falling, Bahng now stiffens.

“Alright, whore,” Mickey shouts. “Get the fuck out!”

You spot him stomping towards you through the mirror. The collided image of your body intertwined with Bahng’s then overwhelms your attention. You have never felt small a single moment in your life, yet in his arms, you are minuscule. Your body relaxes into his, despite the chaos that ensues around you.

“…a fucking distraction, Chris,” Mickey argues. “You can fuck her after the fight.”

Chris. You like the sound of that, can see yourself moaning it as you bounce on his cock. You clench at the thought.

“Go back to your little corner, Mick,” Chris nods. “Don’t interrupt us again.”

“You want to win, don’t you?”

You can’t hold back your scoff. You can see the room stiffen at the sound through the mirrors. Peeling yourself from Chris’s strong frame, you fake a string staggered cough. The physicians ignore you, Mickey dismisses you, but Chris and his other friends remain observing, analysing.

“I’ve fucked plenty o’bitches before a match,” Chris confesses, flashing a smile so dazzling you almost abandon the jealousy that plagues your chest. “I always win.”

Mickey looks between your tangled bodies. His jaw sets, throat bobs. He wipes his face with the towel around his neck and forces a smile. It doesn’t meet his eyes, but it’s the thin scab on his neck that leaves you queasy.

Chris’s legs bounce beneath you, beckoning your attention. You grip onto his shoulder to maintain your balance as you meet his gaze. Wetness pools at the sight of his mischievous eyes. He peers at you under his brows, quirking one at your enamoured silence.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

What if you just kissed him again? How would he let it go? Knowing you lied and now leveraging information, would he be outraged if you closed the distance between you and played with his tongue? You know he enjoyed himself from the grip he had on your ass alone, not to mention the bulge pressing against your stomach.

You lean forward, leaving one of your hands rested on his shoulder, and brush your nose against his. He remains still, letting his gaze fall to watch your lips. While oh-so tempting, you don’t press them to his. Instead, you knead into his pectoral muscles deeper with your other hand, pushing into his skin with the heel of your palm. You’ve made sure to angle your head towards the mirror to gauge the distance of the other bodies in the room— particularly Mickey’s. Back in his “little corner,” he resumes his phone call.

Chris’s soft groan redirects your gaze to his features, contorted in relieved pleasure. Is he really tense or is it simply your touch?

Seungmin clears his throat from his place in front of the mirrors.

Chris shoots him a warning stare before offering you a softer version of one too. “Tell me what you know, runner,” he orders, voice quiet but full of command.

“I know he came to you with an offer to fix the fight,” you reply, keeping an eye on Mickey’s pacing frame. “I know you declined.”

His hands find a comfortable place on your thighs, and begin to glide up and down, soft and slow. Calloused, bandaged in boxer’s tape, they somehow provide tender care. You relax into him once again, resting your forehead against his.

“I know Mickey sold you out. I know he cut a deal to save himself and they’re coming for you.”

“Who?”

You nudge his nose with a shake of your head.

A ghost of a smile hovers over his plump lips at the gesture. He breathes half a chuckle and presses his fingers into the fat of your thighs, between the diamonds of your fishnets.

“You don’t know?” he practically coos. “Did you happen to catch a name, little one?”

Your attempts at pressing your legs together are pathetic. Instead of subtly easing your clenching desire, you squeeze his sides with your knees. Blood rushes to your face, heating your cheeks.

Chris lets that smug smile settle on his lips, tonguing his cheek. “Yeah,” he chuckles, “You like it when I call you that?”

“I like it when you talk to me like that,” you stupidly confess. You switch sides before he can reply, turning away from the mirrors to face Mickey’s corner, and kneed his other pec with just as much pressure, perhaps adding a bit more to combat your embarrassment.

He allows you, leaning back and watching.

He’s so patient, you fondly think, avoiding his gaze. Won’t he let you suck him before his fight? Even allowing you a little taste would suffice. Swallowing, you cannot stop thinking how empty your throat is, how wonderfully agonising it would be to try to accommodate him.

You spare a sidelong glance at Mickey, snapping yourself out your lustful yearning long enough to ensure you aren’t being overheard. When you find he is tapping away on his phone, you press your lips to Chris’s ear and whisper, “Andy.”

Chris continues rubbing your legs, asking, “What do you know about him?”

“I think he’s a cop.”

“You think?”

“He never said it.”

“So how do you know?”

You force your hips to remain still even as goosebumps rise in the wake of his risky touch, inching closer and closer to the apex of your thighs.

“His posture, he said something about his career being on the line, and I think I saw a badge. I just–” you pause to swallow the excess saliva gathering in your mouth. He’s barely even touched you and you’re already drooling. “I just connected the dots.”

Chris hums.

You lean back to get a better look at his face. His features are compressed in thought, brows knitted and eyes uncertain. Your hand has a mind of its own, abandoning its task on his chest to comb your fingers through his dark hair. Leisurely, he meets your gaze, even leans into your touch. You graze his scalp with your long nails, soft and slow.

You have had sexual partners. You have allowed your lust to cloud your judgement, tossed back drinks and spread your legs quite a few times between parties and side-jobs. But you have never been able to hold someone down, however. You have never been able to consistently see the same person over and over or even call them yours.

Here is Christopher Bahng— undefeated boxing champion, the best The Underground has seen. Sitting beneath you, erection pushing against your clothed crotch, he contently sighs. His hands move up to your hips, rubbing, soothing, adoring the shape of your curves and rolls. And his gaze gleams with admiration, bouncing around your features as if looking for a flaw.

You allow yourself to forget the world, the distant chants of fans and gamblers alike eager for the show to start. You forget the bounty on your head, your ex-friends, Vinny, Viktor, Seungmin lingering around the door with Icy-hair, Mickey texting in his sad little corner. You forget who’s territory this is and the title of the man sitting under you. You allow yourself to isolate this tender moment and pretend that Christopher Bahng is yours.

Your man, your protector, your love. He’d crush skulls between his fist and snap spines over his knee. He’d make sure you’d never have to run again. He’d make sure you’d never have to fear for your life. He’d hold you when you’re tired, and carry you to bed when you’re too lazy to make the trip yourself.

You wonder what that’s like— Love. You remember your mother once said something about it when you asked about your father.

“Love is a lie men created to seduce women,” she said while heating the bottom of her spoon. “Any man telling you otherwise is just desperate to fuck you.”

You mentally roll your eyes. You also remember instantly regretting your mention of it. You were about eight years old when she shared that nugget of knowledge. She then wrapped the conversation up by telling you the heroin she was preparing was her “special medicine” and you shouldn’t, under any circumstance, touch it when she passes out.

If that’s not motherly instincts, you’re not sure what is.

“How can I trust you?” Chris asks, lulling you out of your thoughts.

You make sure Mickey is still preoccupied with his phone before joking, “The word of a whore isn’t worth much anymore, is it?”

He cracks half a smile before leaning his head away from your touch. You take the hint, retracting your hand from his hair.

“You’re not a whore,” he states, voice gruff but quiet.

You swallow thickly. “I could be.”

“Yeah?” He quirks a brow. “Tell me what you’d do right now if you could.”

You wonder how honest you should be. Vinny always said that lying would get you killed, but you have an audience. Looking over your shoulder, you find Seungmin alone by the door. Icy-hair must have left when you let your delusions engulf you earlier. The physicians are desperately trying to look busy, sneaking glances at your proximity with their client. Everyone, save for Mickey who seems the most peeved by your presence, is already uncomfortable by your position on his lap.

How dangerous could the truth really be?

Meeting Chris’s playful stare again, you rest your hands on his tight abs and let a shy smile tug on your lips. “I would ride your thigh,” you confess. When he raises his brows, a surprised smirk gracing his lips, you explain, “They’re just so big and strong. I’m just curious to know what it would feel like on my clit.”

The transparent vulgarity of your confession dries your throat. Your chest heats, humiliation trembling your fingers. You part your lips, wishing you can take it back. But your voice fails you, as if standing firm with your statements.

“Interesting,” he muses. “Do it.”

You clear your throat, furrowing your brows. “What?”

“You want me to trust your word?” he asks.

He lets his hands fall to his sides. Your legs suddenly feel so cold.

“In—” you cut yourself off, taking another quick look around the room. “In front of everyone?”

He shrugs. “You told me you would do it.”

You projected two outcomes the moment they discovered you’re a runner and you decided to exchange information for your life.

One — You get laughed at and kicked out of the establishment.

Two — Chk chk boom.

You might have hoped that Chris considered fucking you before discarding you to the streets, wishful for a good orgasm or two. But you did not expect him to order you to grind on his leg in front of his team.

“Match starts in five,” Mickey announces.

While you turn to acknowledge the warning, Chris keeps his attention on you.

“It starts when I say so,” he replies.

Mickey grumbles profanities under his breath before turning back to his phone. You start to wonder what the fuck has held his focus all night when Chris cups your chin, forcing your gaze back on him.

“I’m beginning to lose my patience, darling,” he warns. “You’re either telling the truth or you’re not.”

You lick your lips. Of all the things you thought your life would depend on, you did not think it would be an orgasm.

Inhaling deeply, you adjust your stance and straddle his thigh. Your lips tremble at the sheer strength of his leg, so tense and taut under your wet shorts. You couldn’t have been more thankful for laundry day and the lack of clean panties available. With nothing but your tiny gym shorts between your crotch and his leg, you can feel every mighty muscle.

You notice movement in the mirror from the corner of your eye. One glance and you find Seungmin has turned to face the door. How often has Chris played with a whore in front of his friends? You clench your jaw as envy pesters your heart. What the fuck did those other girls have that you don’t? Why did he pick them? Why—

“Look at me.”

You obey, meeting his pacifying gaze. He curls your hair behind your ears, the gesture gentle and genuine.

You suck in your bottom lip, eyes wide as jealousy transforms into wonder. He may have picked others before you, but he chose to let you in now. He had a chance to turn you away and he fought to have you in this specific position, all to himself. And maybe he wants others to know that. Or maybe he really does have a fucked up way of verifying his sources. What matters is this time, it is you. And you’ll be damned if you don’t take advantage of that.

Hands on his stomach, fingers sliding between the ridges of his abs, you thrust. The first jut of friction is tentative. Hiccups of pleasure spark from your bundle of nerves and you wobble over his leg. Chris grabs your waist simply to steady you, and retracts once you regain your balance.

You continue, jaw dropping at the constant surge of satisfaction. Wetness gathers and stains your shorts, making the glide of your hips all the more effortless. One look in his eyes, and you know Chris feels it too. However, that wicked smile of his does not overwhelm his features until you moan.

Strained, frail, the sound cuts over the ruckus of the physicians. The room falls silent as you ground yourself hard against his thigh and release another fraught moan of pure enjoyment. Your hands travel higher on his chest, and you lean forward into him, keen to gain more leverage to arch your back.

Chris catches onto your intentions, his attention all too consumed by the curves of your rear. He grabs your waistband and pulls on it, tightening the fabric to sharpen the friction of the thrusts.

“Fuck!” Your voice breaks from bliss, orgasm already festering in the base of your gut.

It’s all too hot. Face, arms, legs, your skin burns, blood racing, nerves jittering. You need everything off. You need his skin on yours, his body engulfing you with more pleasure, more attention.

Lips quivering, breaths shaky, you sit back. You continue to chase your high while grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it off. Your hips don’t miss a beat as you reach back to unclasp your lace bra in a few simple manoeuvres and toss it aside as well.

Chris lowly groans. His eyes flicker between each bouncing breast, hands finally finding their rightful place on your backside. He digs his fingers into the fat of your cheeks and helps you with your final few thrusts.

“Can you go a little faster for me?”

You enthusiastically oblige.

A powerful smack, landing on your left cheek, triggers your most erotic moan, voice laden with submission. He issues another on your right and you whine this time, squeaky and breathless.

Chris leans forward so your breasts bounce against his face. He doesn’t bury his face between them however, eager to watch your face eventually contort in ecstasy.

“Good girl,” he praises. “That’s right, keep looking at me.”

Twisting and turning, your arousal gathers.

“You’re doing so well, riding my thigh just like you promised, yeah?”

His voice is condescending, almost making a mockery of your whimpering. He even momentarily mirrors your rounded eyes and slightly pouty lips, looking up at you tauntingly. So why does it fuel your desire, motivate your hips?

You nod, despite your humiliation, voice whiny as you confess, “I’d do it again too.”

A growl of approval resonates from his chest and into yours. He kneads your cheeks, letting a deep groan of his own escape and collide with yours.

“That’s my good girl,” he affirms. “Don’t stop, darling. You’re almost there.”

Your toes curl, tight in your platform boots. Your eyes roll back, twitching when you throw your head back. Your jaw drops, a loud, shattered moan escaping. You cum between sporadically clenching, pathetically gyrating on his firm thigh.

Chris holds you still, mumbling quiet affirmations between your breasts. He presses wet kisses on each one, pulling you back into him. Draping your arms around his shoulders, you fall limp against him. He moans from his smothered place in the valley of your breasts and rubs soothing circles around your backside.

Head foggy, chest heaving, you let your eyes flutter shut. You know you won’t be staying here for long, either meeting the barrel of his gun or the side of the street. There’s no harm in soaking in this moment then, is there? You pretend he is your boyfriend, issuing tender aftercare as you attempt to collect your sanity. You don’t have to try so hard to keep up the delusion with the way he delicately wraps you in a warm hug and comforts your hammering heart with his lips. He peppers kisses up your collarbone, neck, then jaw before meeting the shell of your ear.

“You know you’re really pretty when you’re cumming,” he teases. “Does your right eye always twitch like that? Or was that just for me?”

You open your eyes, squinting against the brightness of the room. Nuzzling the bridge of your nose under his jawline, you whisper, “Do you really need more convincing, Chris?”

You like the way his name rolls off your tongue.

The widening grin on his face tells you he likes it too. “I might,” he replies.

You tell yourself that it just slips, but you’re only lying again. You just want him to know. You want him to imagine you when he jerks off later, when he pounds that traitor to a bloody pulp, when he’s standing in the ring and winning his fight. You want him to be thankful for your presence tonight. You want him to repeat it over and over, to tell his friends about you.

So, shifting back enough to whisper in his ear, you offer your name.

Chris moves back to meet your gaze. He scans your features, his own a blanket of neutrality.

The weight of your action does not settle upon your shoulders until his eyes meet yours again, and you realise you cannot decipher them. Swallowing thickly, you blink back tears. How could you say that? Vinny just warned you against being this reckless. Your new image is tied to him too. You’ve been running around town, disturbing drugs on his behalf or Viktor’s. And you just offer your name, for what? A second of appreciation from a pretty face?

It’s my life too, Vinny’s voice quietly returns. He reminded you of that not even half an hour ago. Why the fuck would you tell some Stray Kids member your darkest secret? Why would you gamble the lives of your only remaining friends?

“I’m—”

Chris cuts you off with a shake of his head. So, you swallow your words.

He reaches for your shirt and helps you put it on. You don’t have the courage to tell him he forgot your bra. He then gestures for you to stand, and fixes your ruined shorts so they’re not riding up anymore. You watch as he studies the damp spot and clenches his jaw to force back a smile.

“Seungmin,” he calls, standing up and towering over you again.

You wonder how tall he is but know better than to ask now.

Seungmin reports to Chris’s side. Chris nods to your fur coat, “Grab it and escort her to the stands.”

“You’r—”

“Now,” he reaffirms, cutting you off again.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you accept your coat and follow Seungmin out. You shouldn’t have, but you sneak a glance at the mirror eager to catch his reflection one last time.

Chris’s features harden as he faces Mickey. His fists clench.

Mickey stiffens, all previous irritation dissolving into fear.

The door shuts.

Waves of painted faces and torsos, endless banners, and flashing lights— the arena succumbs to insanity. Roars of chants echo upon the ring announcer’s behest. The thick stench of sweat and spilled beer is what overwhelms you, however. Scrunching your nose in disgust, you try to swallow your nausea.

You wonder how anyone here can stand it, turning back to take a final look at Seungmin. He stands at the doorway, arms crossed, gaze lingering around your rear. His ears flame a hot pink at the realisation he’d been caught.

A lazy smirk plays on your lips. He didn’t get a good enough look before?

Seungmin mutters something to the security guard stationed at the door then hurries back into the hall. You wonder if the guard is a Stray Kids member too. Is the ring announcer? What about the employees behind the stands? Or do they simply work for the gang?

“Runner!” Vinny’s voice cuts through the crowd. You turn at the call of your position, finding him standing on his seat and waving you over.

A relieved smile spreads across your lips. He meets you halfway as you push between rowdy spectators. He takes your hand firmly in his and leads you back to your seats.

“Where the hell were you?” He asks over the commotion.

“It’s complicated.”

Vinny’s face darkens with scepticism. “What the fuck did—”

“Who did you bet on?”

He clenches his jaw. “Matthews,” he practically screams.

So the Sixers are in on it too. You wonder if the gangs are onto Chris, knowing he might be affiliated with Stray Kids, and are working together to bring them down.

“Change it.”

“The bell rings in less than a minute,” Vinny shouts before looking over his shoulder to the front doors. He meets your gaze, uncertainty flooding those cerulean eyes, and mouths, It’s fixed.

You shake your head.

Vinny rolls his eyes shut, teeth grinding. He swallows his anger, knowing he cannot hurl insults right now with such an audience. Unlike you, he knows better than to call attention to himself. Exhaling sharply, he harshly holds your gaze and parts his lips.

Profanities? Threats? You expect both, bracing yourself with a clench of your fists.

But Vinny merely shakes his head in disappointment. He pulls out his phone and begins dialling. While waiting for someone to pick up, he yells, “If I die, I’m going to kill you!”

You suppress a smile and stifle the urge to respond with a joke. You fear you might have reached his limit. You’ve dragged him into your dark vortex of despair, endangering his life again and again. You should reach out to him now, pull him into a tight hug and offer endless apologies. You should have taken the chance he gave you when he called your foster mom, and stayed off the streets. You should have finished high school, applied for colleges outside of the wretched city of Crimson Heights, and never looked back. Instead, you continue to test his patience. 

Side-jobs were simply more lucrative. You have a talent for blending in too, a permanent look of indifference plastered on your face. No one ever suspects some girl, twirling a joint between her fingers, to be running or organising hits on corner stores and local diners.

The first time you held a gun, power ignited through your veins. You carried the weight of life within a bullet, finger teasing the trigger. The first time you pointed it at some store clerk, black ski mask over your face and tongue swirling around a pink lollipop, you felt that stone cold power of metal and powder snake along your spine and caress the nape of your neck.

You rolled your shoulders back, angled your head and smirked.

The clerk soiled himself, hands up in surrender.

You pressed the barrel to his head anyway, boring your wild eyes into his fearful ones.

“Well, this is awkward for you, isn’t it?” you giggled before cocking your gun.

The memory lures a smile. While you didn’t shoot him, provided he was very cooperative, it was fun toying with him.

The lights begin to whirl around the arena, snapping you out of your thoughts. Vinny hangs up the phone, and though the crowd is deafening, you can still hear his heavy, nervous breaths beside you.

All lights converge in the centre of the boxing ring. The cheers increase, crowd buzzing with anticipation. A tall, slender man dressed in a clean, glittering suit enters and takes his place in the middle of the ring. He holds a hand up and waves, encouraging excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to The Underground!” He shouts into the microphone. Cameras capture his perfect white smile, projecting the image on the large screens hanging over the ring.

“My name is Jackson Wylder and I will be your ring master this evening. Now, I have an important question for you tonight.” He scans the audience, displays a look of curiosity and asks, “Are you ready to rumble?”

The cheers surge.

“I said,” he starts before darting around the ring, “ARE YOU READY TO RUMBLE?”

You clap your hands over your ears at the thundering roars of the fans. A group of manic men jump behind you, almost pushing you off your seat and onto the spectators in front of you.

Vinny links his arm with yours and pulls you into his side. You turn to give him a thankful look, but he avoids your gaze.

“Tonight, we have a clash of titans!” Jackson continues, turning to point to his left. “In this corner, weighing in at 210 pounds and hailing from our very own, Crimson Heights, give it up for the man who’s always up for a fight— the skilled and tenacious, Aiden Matthews!”

Aiden emerges from a dark hall closest to his corner. He wears a blue silk robe and white gloves, bouncing on his toes as he makes his way through the unruly crowd. They holler at him, either tossing praises or insults, and bump their hands against his fists. He waves his arms up to encourage their hectic energy then finally enters the ring. His coach unfolds a chair and then helps him out of his robe.

Jackson shakes Aiden’s hand. He mutters a few words before returning to the centre of the ring.

“And in the opposite corner, we have a fighter who needs no introduction—” Jackson starts again. A childish smile plays on his lips, like he’s a fan, himself. “A crowd favourite, a sensation, and the undefeated champion who makes every match feel like a blockbuster!” He’s giddy, practically giggling his words. “Standing tall at a staggering 6 feet 9 inches and weighing in at an impressive 215 pounds, please put your hands together for the man who’s taken the boxing world by storm, Christopher ‘The Phantom’ Bahng!”

The roars bellow deep from the crowd as they cheer and chant, “Bahng! Bahng! Bahng!”

Everyone, even Jackson, turns to the front door, waiting for Chris to emerge.

You swallow thickly.

The lights then shift to the other end of the arena.

Your heart already falters at his height. He’s still almost a foot taller than you in your thick platforms. You stand to see him, legs almost giving out when you spot his large figure appear through the back door. But it’s the mess of red lipstick still smeared on his lips, the blood speckled like freckles on his cheeks, and the dark patch on the leg of his shorts that wrings your soul. He didn’t even give you a chance to be grateful that he trusted you, slaughtering your sanity with such a dishevelled look.

Decorated in you, he enters the ring and shakes the hand of a bashful Jackson. No one seems fazed by his appearance. Jealousy pangs your chest at the thought of him being drenched in his past whores, the admittance of his pre-match rituals returning to you.

One look from Vinny might indicate otherwise. He glares at your smudged lipstick.

You roll your eyes and lean into him, too breathless and trembling to fight off his wrath.

“Tonight,” Jackson smiles, raising his hand to redirect the crowd’s attention. “Tonight, we’re in for a spectacular display of skill, heart, and,” he shoots the fans a little wink, “perhaps a bit of humour—because let’s face it, if you can’t have fun while throwing punches, what’s the point?!”

He takes a moment to laugh at his own joke.

You keep your eyes on Chris. Mickey does not unfold his chair and take his robe. Instead a shorter, just as muscled, man does. He gives Chris a weary look, of which Chris ignores, and squirts some water in his mouth.

You force yourself not to focus on the droplets that drip from his pouted, stained lips.

“This is not just a fight, folks,” Jackson informs with a raise of his brows. “No, no! This is a showdown!”

He lets the crowd go crazy before continuing, “Aiden Matthews is ready to prove that he’s a force to be reckoned with, but Christopher Bahng,” he turns to his favourite star and grins, “has captured the hearts of fans everywhere. Can Aiden dethrone the giant, or will Bahng continue his reign of dominance?”

You suck in a shaky breath and blow it out. You fill your lungs of tainted sweat-slick air, fighting the urge to gag, and release it once more. Looking around the arena, you swallow the growing lump in your throat. All these fans have come to watch Chris win, and have no idea that he almost died.

“So, buckle up, ladies and gents! Keep your drinks close, your snacks handy, and your eyes glued to the ring! It’s time to witness boxing history unfold right before our eyes!” Jackson’s eyes twinkle with astonishment and wonder. He holds his arms out and turns in a slow circle. “Are you ready for this showdown?” He asks as if truly probing for a personal answer.

“Let’s get ready to rumble!”

Mouth guards in, both fighters stand.

Aiden, while built and tall in his own right, looks like an ant compared to Chris. He pounds his fists together and grunts to assert his dominance. He bounces on his toes and shoots Chris his most menacing glare.

Chris flashes a lazy smile. He rolls his shoulders back and holds his fists up. He peers over his gloves at Aiden like a predator stalking its prey.

The bell rings.

“And here we go, folks! Round 1 is officially underway! Aiden Matthews is looking to prove himself against the undefeated giant, Christopher Bahng!” Jackson comments ringside.

Aiden cautiously circles the ring with Chris. He maintains a safe distance, the heat of his gaze wavering under Chris’s relaxed stance. Testing the waters, he tries his luck with a quick jab.

Chris has the height advantage, however, effortlessly leaning back to dodge. The punch barely grazes the air before him.

Aiden narrows his eyes.

“Ooo,” Jackson hisses. “So close!”

The crowd laughs, almost as one, before splitting between chants for each boxer.

Aiden, eager to recover, steps in quickly, unleashing a flurry of body shots aimed at Chris’s midsection.

You hold your breath and tighten your grip on Vinny’s arm.

But, Chris doesn't flinch. His arms, long and strong, keep Aiden at bay with precise blocks. The controlled ease of Chris’s movements highlight Aiden’s childish, tantrum-like fighting style. You can’t help wondering how the fuck Aiden made it this far. Perhaps other boxers can’t track the chaotic jabs as well as Chris does. Maybe they didn’t even try.

“Matthews is coming in hot, throwing quick combos, but Bahng is as cool as ice—deflecting every shot with ease!”

Chris, ever patient, waits for an opening. He keeps his elbows tucked in, movements minimal, letting Aiden expend energy. He evades each punch with swift swerves of his head, taking small steps back. Even hunched, crouched inwards, his frame still looms large over Aiden.

The majority of the crowd now chants Chris’s name, flooding the arena with jittery admiration.

Like a trigger, fast and smooth, Chris snaps forward with a sharp jab. The blow lands against Aiden’s guard, but the sheer strength of it forces him back.

“Bahng with the first real strike of the night!” Jackson shouts.

Aiden’s eyes widen. He finally feels the power, you realise, and his gaze floods with fear.

Jackson tosses the crowd a giddy look and gushes,“That jab was like a freight train!”

The crowd clamours with laughter in agreement.

You catch a ghost of a smile hovering over Chris’s lips. Is it insane that you find him even more attractive when he’s menacingly playful? An image of his face inches from yours, that same impression of a smile unable to settle on his lips, surfaces. Those feline eyes, teasing, daring, coaxing you to ride him.

You bite your lip and refocus your attention on the match.

Aiden resets and presses on. He bobs and weaves to avoid Chris’s long reach. Ducking low, he slips inside Chris’s defence to unleash a rapid combination of punches to the torso and a hook aimed at the chin.

Chris blocks the body blows then, all too calmly for someone being beat up, rolls with the hook, avoiding the brunt of it. That sinister smirk settles, oh so cunningly, curving the corners of his lips. Without delay, Chris counters with an uppercut from the right, the snap of his arms swift and steady.

Aiden only just manages to block it in time, but the impact leaves him rattled. He stumbles back with a loud grunt. Wheezing and regaining his footing, his eyes betray him, glowing with newfound respect for his towering opponent.

In awe, Jackson remarks, “Bahng is a mountain of patience—waiting for just the right moment to strike! Matthews is going to have to dig deep if he’s going to find a way in!”

You glance at the final seconds of the first round, glowing red above the ring. Less than thirty seconds remain.

Aiden, perhaps knowing he has to make a statement, launches a last-ditch effort. He levels a heavy left hook aimed at Chris’s side, almost mirroring the speed Chris recently displayed.

But Chris, as if seeing it in slow motion, smoothly side steps.

You gasp with the crowd.

He counters with a punishing fist aimed at Aiden’s temple. The punch connects cleanly, the crowd choking on their cheers. The thick sound echoes between the staggered shouts, twisting your stomach with unease.

Aiden stumbles towards the ropes, using their stability to keep himself standing.

The bell rings before Chris can issue another attack.

Jackson steps back into the ring. He eyes Aiden with wide eyes before sharing a look with the audience. “What a way to end the first round!” He laughs. “Bahng’s precision is something to behold, and Aiden Matthews has already felt the sting of that power! Can I get…”

The rest of his words fade as you fixate your attention on the boxers. Aiden returns to his corner with a shuffle of his feet. He’s drenched in sweat, face red and eyes tired. His coach wipes his face then squeezes some water into his mouth.

Chris leisurely walks to his seat. He wipes nose with his arm as he sits. Composed, unbothered, he stares his opponent down.

Aiden shifts in place.

You can’t help but do the same.

You’ve been wanting to leave since the fourth round.

You thought it was over when Chris landed an uppercut so sharp, you swear you heard Aiden’s jaw shatter. You watched as his eyes rolled back and he met the floor with a loud, echoing thump. Aiden’s team flinched, leering over the ropes only to be scolded by the referee.

Chris’s eyes gleamed with something ominous, standing over Aiden’s limp body. He tilted his head and tongued his cheek, lips heavy with the impression of a smirk. He doesn’t merely look proud, but gratified. You wondered at the time if he loves the splitting sound of a bone breaking just as much as you love the chambering click of a loaded gun.

But the crowd remained in the arena. Vinny gave you a reassuring look as if silently telling you it won’t be much longer, and the fifth round commenced.

Jackson returns ringside now, two more rounds later, announcing after the signal of the bell, “Round seven, folks, and this has been an all-out war! Aiden Matthews has been relentless, but Christopher Bahng’s defence is like a fortress!”

The crowd roars as Aiden and Chris step toward the centre of the ring again. Aiden, slick with sweat, jabs at the air, his face tense and determined. Chris, towering over him with his eyes ever so calm and calculating, bounces lightly on his feet.

As the audience resumes their chants for Chris, Aiden charges forward. He jabs with considerable speed and aggression. His punches are fast but painstakingly desperate. It’s almost embarrassing to witness, and you’re not even a fighter.

One glance at Chris and you catch his mask of cool flicker with hushed notions of pity, as if feeling sorry for his opponent. You scan his fighting stance, devouring his toned body with your eyes. His skin gleams with sweat and blotches of forming bruises. His left cheek holds a patch of purple; right brow split.

You swallow thickly, watching his muscles twist as he effortlessly weaves. He slips left, right, then ducks under an all too wide hook.

“Stay still, you fucker!” Aiden orders through gritted teeth, the microphones hovering over the ring catching every spit-splattered syllable.

Chris faintly smiles, eyes locking on Aiden's. He moves just enough to miss another jab by mere inches, dancing around the ring like he has all the time in the world. He then jumps high, resembling a kangaroo, once, twice, only to circle the ring again.

The buzzing energy of the crowd grows, their cheers building as if Chris’s little gesture is any indication of a shift in the round.

The screens cut to Jackson. He swallows thickly as his eyes track Chris’s movements then comments,“Matthews is giving it everything he’s got, but Bahng…” he takes a moment to let out a whistle, “Bahng is like a ghost out there! Just out of reach!”

Aiden presses harder, frustration creeping in as he tries to close the distance. He throws heavy hooks and uppercuts.

You almost scoff, wondering why he hasn’t learned yet. His efforts are useless against someone as skilled as Chris. Truly a phantom in the ring, Chris’s footwork is flawless, always just a step ahead, and he barely reacts.

He then ever so slightly adjusts his stance, leaving an opening wide for Aiden to pounce.

You furrow your brows.

Jackson voices his concern too, narrowing his eyes. “Is Bahng showing weakness?” He asks as if he cannot believe it himself. Then his eyes widen. “Matthews sees it—he’s going for it!”

Aiden lunges forward, hurling all his power into a swift right hook toward the exposed side.

However, as steady as his opponent commits to the punch, Chris sidesteps with speed that rivals lightning, and counters with a sharp left jab that snaps Aiden’s head back.

You stand again with Vinny, both gasping with the crowd. A hand flies to your mouth as you watch Aiden stagger back.

“OH!” Jackson beams, “Bahng saw that coming from a mile away!”

Chris is relentless. He moves in smoothly, landing a quick, precise combination—jab, cross, uppercut—that sends Aiden stumbling backward.

Aiden’s guard falters.

Chris steps forward. He drives a thunderous right hook straight into Aiden’s gut.

Aiden gasps for air, the force buckling.

Chris, collected and focused, steps back, allowing Aiden a moment to gather himself.

Your eyes widen at the pacifying gesture, wondering what he has to gain by giving his opponent a chance to strike again.

All thoughts cease within seconds as Chris feints an attack. It draws Aiden’s guard up high only for Chris to slip low and deliver a devastating body blow, placed perfectly under the ribs.

Aiden groans, dropping to a knee. The air is completely knocked out of him.

The referee stands over his kneeling frame, counting, “One!”

The crowd erupts with excitement, some jumping as they cheer for Chris, while others remain shackled in disbelief as Aiden tries to regain his strength.

“Two.”

Jackson is rocking in place, jittery with joy as he enthuses,“Bahng is not just beating Matthews—he’s outthinking him! Every move is a step ahead, like he’s reading Aiden’s mind!”

“Three.”

Aiden is wobbly, but pulls himself back to his feet. He shakes his head, attempting to refocus. You suppose that Jackson’s comment must have struck a cord because Aiden looks as though he is done thinking. He lunges again, impulsive and messy.

Chris is undeterred by the chaos Aiden becomes, this time feinting a right cross.

Aiden’s guard flies to the right. Then, Chris pivots and delivers a clean left hook to his temple.

“What a move!”Jackson praises. “Bahng’s precision is surgical!”

Aiden collapses against the ropes.

Chris steps back, watching, waiting.

The stillness of Aiden’s muscular frame worries the referee. He steps in, leaning by Aiden’s side to get a better look.

The camera pans over his swollen, bloody face. You cringe.

The referee stands back to his full height to wave his arms, calling, “It’s over! It’s over!”

The crowd explodes into catastrophic cheers upon the referee’s decree.

Chris raises his gloves in triumph and pride. While he is well within his right to gloat, and perhaps has done so before based on the fact that you know he likes to show off, he remains composed. The only emotion hinting towards elation is in the lightness of his gaze as he looks around the arena at his fans. He nods to them, lips finally curving into a smile.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was shy.

Jackson returns to the centre of the ring. He gestures his hands towards Chris, encouraging the howls of the crowd. “Christopher Bahng has done it again!” He says, smiling fondly at Chris. “Not just with power, not just with speed, but with pure brilliance in this ring. He’s shown everyone why he’s the undefeated champion!”

You don’t get a chance to revel at the sight of Chris stiffening as Jackson holds his arms out wide for a hug. Vinny tugs on your arm instead, nodding his head towards the exit. You keep your arms linked and stay close as he pushes between the manic crowd for you.

“Explain yourself,” Vinny orders the moment you’re back on the street.

You look over your shoulder at the entrance of the arena, then whisper, “Not here.”

Vinny rolls his eyes but starts walking towards your apartment. After three blocks of silence, he says, “Talk.”

“I was looking for yo—”

“Don’t bullshit me,” he seethes, cutting you off. “How the fuck did you know Matthews would lose? It’s been fixed for the last week.”

“Just listen to me,” you plead, raising your voice. “When I was waiting for you in the alley, I heard some things.”

Vinny shoots you a nervous look.

You continue, “One of those things was that there were back halls that go around the entire arena. I really was looking for you in there, Vinny. You left me to fend for myself and those people were hard to squeeze through. So, I found one of the doors. And— listen, I know you’re gonna be mad at me, but I really thought it would be easier this way.”

His face falls into disappointment. “You lied.”

“I lied,” you confess, avoiding his gaze as you continue down the street. “I told the guy at the door that Chris—”

“You call him Chris?” Vinny interrupts, voice heavy with astonishment.

“Well—”

Vinny cuts you off with your name and a shake of his head. “No, no, you don’t understand,” he humorlessly chuckles. “No one but his inner circle calls him Chris. What the fuck did you do?”

“I told the guy at the door that I was his prostitute. It was only supposed to get me in so I could find you.”

“You didn’t,” Vinny says. Upon the guilty look in your eyes, he closes his own and sighs, “You fucked him?”

“Not exactly,” you hesitantly correct. “He’s really hot, okay? And he was really nice to me, and I don’t know if you know this,” you sarcastically start. “But not many people have been lately.”

Vinny offers you a vulgar gesture.

You roll your eyes. “I just told him what I heard and he needed convincing.”

“You fucked him,” Vinny concludes.

“Do you think I would be able to walk right now if I did?”

You try not to laugh as Vinny’s features coil in disgust. Parting your lips, you’re about to tell him that it doesn’t matter now. Chris is fine, the Sixers didn’t lose a dime and you can finally get that bath you have been craving earlier this evening.

However, the shriek of tires pierce through the silent night instead.

Vinny reaches for his gun, pushing you behind him. You go to grab your own only to remember you don’t have one. The switchblade will have to do if running is not an option.

A black van speeds down the street, darting past you to swerve onto the sidewalk and block your path. Seungmin jumps out of the passenger seat. Icy-hair and another tall, dark haired man, whose features remarkably resemble that of a fox, emerge from the back.

Vinny cocks his gun.

“Wait,” you shout, stepping between them. You hold your hands up, giving Vinny your most reassuring look. “I know them,” you explain.

Looking amongst the intruders, Vinny furrows his brows and asks, “How?”

“They’re Chris’s friends,” you reply, quietly adding, “I think.”

Vinny glares. “You think?”

“Walk away,” a deep voice orders.

Icy-hair steps forward with a gun of his own. However, he is not aiming it at Vinny.

You deadpan. “Did he tell you to do this? God, is he always this dramatic?”

“Tell me about it,” Seungmin mutters, then nods towards the van. “Get in.”

Turning to Vinny, you offer him a small, assuring smile. “I’m fine, Vin. Just go.”

Vinny scoffs, narrowing his eyes in disbelief at you. “He has a gun to your head.”

“Chris is an egoistic, attention-seeker,” you dismiss. “If they wanted to shoot me, they would have done so already.”

“How can you be sure?” Vinny shouts.

Chk chk boom, you think. Your brains would have already been splattered on the sidewalk.

Nodding behind him, you repeat, “Go. I’ll call you later.”

Vinny shakes his head, clenching his jaw and directing his frustrated gaze to the ground. As if wrestling his intuition, he resentfully lowers and uncocks his gun. He takes another look around at the men, swallowing thickly.

You wonder if they know he’s trying to memorise their faces. You wonder if they care.

“If you die,” Vinny says, voice wavering. “I will kill you.”

You suppress a laugh, tightening your lips. “Good.”

He breaths a baffled chuckle, gives you one final look, then forces himself to walk away

You turn to face the others, or at least you’re in the process of turning.

A black bag slips over your head. Arms pulled back, hands bound, you attempt to struggle against their grip. Too slow, your squirming does not distract them. Someone hooks their arms under your shoulders, another scoops up your legs. Heart pounding, you release a searing scream, attempting to wrangle your way out of their grasp. You kick and try to flail your arms, grunting as you fight against their hold. The three men look strong, but they are nothing compared to Chris. You doubt only two of them can maintain their grip this well when you feel another set of hands, then another.

Vinny shouts your name.

Your body is tossed into the back. You land with a loud groan, cursing at the impact of the pain.

He shouts your name again, the hard stomp of his feet echoing in the street.

A bullet sounds.

No, no, no—

“No!” You desperately scream. “Vinny!”

Tears gather in your eyes. This is all your fault. It goes beyond sticking your nose in business you had no right knowing. Since that day he found you back on the streets, hustling scammers out of their well-stolen money, you have dragged Vinny into your hole of reckless misfortune. You asked him to bail you out of one too many fuck-ups, forcing him to further implicate himself in your thoughtless schemes, often against the advice and support of his gang. He has risked his reputation, relationships, money, his good fucking sense, all in the name of childhood friendship.

And how do you repay him?

With a bullet.

Lip quivering, you ask between sobs, “Did you shoot him?”

You never deserved kindness. You never deserved freedom. You never even deserved compassion.

You are a tornado of vile anguish, a chaotic force of impulse and betrayal. You are a waste of space, your very existence is a curse set upon your parents. You should have known as much when the universe tore them away. You are not worthy of connections— all your friends withering in the wake of your misfortune.

What compelled you to believe that Chris would be any different? He might have been devastatingly beautiful and the look in his eyes might have continuously hinted at something tragically scarred. His kisses might have breathed new life into your soul, hands might have cradled every nightmare to rest. But he is still a victim of your calamity. You should have known a good feeling never lasts.

The back door slides shut. The engine revs, jolting the van into motion.

“Did you fucking shoot him?” You cry, voice breaking as a sob overwhelms you. “Vinny!”

Please forgive me, you want to scream.

“Shut up!” Someone shouts over you. You move to kick the speaker only for someone to grab hold of your ankles and bind them together too.

“He shot at us.” The same speaker clarifies. “And he has terrible aim for a self-appointed hero.”

Relief washes over you, ice-cold upon your trembling bones. You lean back, embracing the pain of the awkward position of your hands under you.

“He told us to knock her out,” Seungmin says, voice slightly distant. He must have returned to his place in the front seat.

“He did?” Icy-hair’s deep voice replies.

“I don’t think so,” someone else adds.

You lay limp amongst the shuffling of movements, ignoring their argument, too lost in thought to care. Though Vinny is alive, it does not alter the epiphany that has just dawned upon you— You inevitably ruin anyone foolish enough to come too close.

The edge of the bag lifts and a damp cloth presses against your mouth.

You embrace the darkness.

PART II ➡︎

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other reader. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work.

[wetpussyju1ce]

Close asshat cousins Jax Teller and Benny Miller swinging at one another (or others wink wink) in the ring for babygirl's giggles, smiles, hands, body, WHATEVER, would be so HILARIOUS and hawt at the same, mama—I mean, WHAT.

WHO SAID THAT.

Vanilla Milkshake

Jax Teller (SOA) x fem!reader | Benny Miller (Triple Frontier) x fem!reader

/!\ the smut only happens with Benny. Jax has a crush on reader.

+18 mdni

10.5k words

tw: Jealousy, Protective Jax, Not Beta Read, Banter, Flirting, Making Out, Strength Kink, Frottage, Dry Humping, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Vaginal Fingering, Coming Untouched, Fighting, Attempt at Humor, Aftercare, Fluff, Hair-pulling, Soft/Sweet Benny, Bathing/Washing, Jax Teller and Ben Miller are Cousins, Dom/sub Undertones, Teasing, Scents & Smells, One Night Stands, Out of Character (possibly because it's been a while since I watched the movie, and I'm almost done with s1 of soa and It's been a while since the last ep I watched), Crossovers

summary: Jax invites the prettiest girl in town to a fight, where she meets a handsome stranger that makes her feel all sorts of exciting things. Jax's not too happy about it, especially since it feels like a personal betrayal, considering the stranger's his damn cousin.

Reader is referred to as Tangy (nickname by Jax because she smells good, like tangerines), pronouns are she/her, genitals are referred to as hole and pussy.

a/n: this is for my baby @reveluving <3 I really hope I was able to deliver what you wanted. Also im sorry for any spelling mistakes. Thank you for pulling me out of writers block. Sometimes I felt a little rusty writing this, so I hope it doesn't show! :) Here's another one for the garrett girlies! Cheers!

Charming is usually quiet, especially at night. But that is if you aren't anywhere near the Sons of Anarchy.

Every week or so, the Sons gather up to throw a boxing match, usually just to bet to try and make some money, drink a shit ton of booze and watch their friends get the shit beaten out of them. They tend to get really rowdy, and immediately scatter if the police ever showed up, which doesn't happen as much as it should for some reason.

It also means that people from out of town show up looking to make some cash on their fighters as well.

Jax used to fight, a lot, when he would burn with excess energy and would try to get in as much trouble as physically possible. And when he couldn't for whatever reason, he'd beg to be put in the ring and come out with two black eyes, a busted lip and a shit-eating grin on his face. It satiates him for a good three weeks until he gets the itch to punch and get punched until he sees stars.

Jax's special girl never comes to these things, but tonight he invited her. She agreed after he assured her there would be a bench for them to sit, apparently she didn't want some drunk idiot stepping on her shoes or spilling his beer down her back, not like Jax would let it slide if that ever happened, she may not be technically his girl, but soon (he hasn't even asked her out yet).

That night outside, behind their local gym, the boxing ring was set up and a generous amount of people were in the audience. The girl was sitting with her bag in her lap, and Jax was sat with his body angled towards her, their knees and shoulders touching. He really didn't need to be that close but apparently, how else is he meant to sit to be protecting her? It was strategic! Totally innocent and very serious because he'd hate for anything to happen to her, and especially since he likes to feel the heat of her body radiating off her and to be so close that he can smell her fruity shampoo off her hair and see the shimmer of her lipgloss.

She was so damn adorable, she was frowning a little too, clearly concerned about the health and safety of the fighters.

"Hey," Jax couldn't help but smile, throwing his arm around her shoulder and squeezing her to his side.

"What?" She said, still staring at the referee explain the rules to the two men before they start punching each other.

"What're you looking worried for, baby?"

She shrugged and finally turned to look at him, Jax watched her inhale sharply and squeeze her thighs, lifting and dropping her bag back on her lap, trying to pretend like his little pet name didn't make her tingle. "Well, I don't see the appeal in getting your shit rocked for sport,"

"Well, it's for sport,"

"Yeah, but it can't feel good the next day,"

"Sure, but it's like— It's like sex, it can feel good, but, if can also hurt so bad it feels good," Jax spoke right in her ear while the audience shouted and cheered around them as one of the men hit the ground with a thud, dripping with sweat and a little blood from his brow.

"Sex and getting punched by Mark the lumberjack is not the same," She rolled her eyes and huffed when Jax leaned down and dug his teeth in the crook of her neck. She wasn't really annoyed and Jax knew that, so when she pushed his face away with her hand, he laughed and licked her palm making her squeal in juvenile disgust, "Jax! Ew!"

She made a show of wiping her wet palm on his thigh, over his dark denim while he laughed.

The girl sighed and Jax quickly planted a kiss to her cheek, "Sorry,"

"Get me a drink, I'm thirsty," She said and Jax immediately stood up, "What do you want?"

"Whatever's good," She shrugged and Jax nodded, "Alright, stay here,"

She had a small smile on her lips when Jax turned around and left to go fetch her a drink. When he was out of sight, she turned back to the fight and opened her bag without looking, when her fingers felt plastic she dug her fingers inside it and finally glanced down. After a couple of seconds of looking around, she grabbed a lollipop, the one that was Sour Apple flavoured. She looked back at the fight right as the two fighters are trying to choke each other out.

When she couldn't open the package with her fingers, she huffed and started gnawing on the plastic covered hard sweet. The plastic finally ripped and she pulled it apart with her fingers, shoving the wrapper in her bag and right as the lollipop hit her tongue, a dark figure obstructed her view of the ring.

With her tongue out and the round green lollipop on it, she slowly trailed her eyes up, and when she couldn't make up a face she shoved the lollipop in her mouth and moved it to inside of her left cheek, then grabbed the bench with one hand and the other on her bag as she leaned back, tilting her neck to make out the face of the idiot blocking her view.

When her eyes readjusted to the change of light, she just glared up at the man until a weird feeling fluttered in her stomach, "Do I know you?"

"Uh, no, I'm sorry if I scared you," A deep voice answered and the body finally lowered to her level, squatting right in front of her.

The man was ridiculously tall, if she had to guess, maybe as tall as Jax, or maybe a little taller. His hair was blonde under his backwards cap, the same as Jax, his eyes were even of a lighter colour, not the same as Jax but pretty close, a grey-green, the type of colour that constantly changes with the sunlight, sometimes it's green, other times turquoise, or perhaps grey? Or grey-blue? Who the fuck even knows, they're pretty eyes and they're staring straight at her as if he knew something she didn't.

"You don't look awfully sorry to me," She said, squinting her eyes at the man.

He chuckles and the sound goes straight to her stomach in the form of traitorous butterflies, he was handsome. The man had a boy-ish charm to him, the sheepish look fits him like a damn glove as he rubs the back of his neck with one of those huge manly hands. His bicep bulges at the movement, and his short-sleeved button up wasn't even horribly tight that it'd look it'd burst at the seams under the pressure of those muscles, but she could still see how strong he was.

He wasn't massive by any means, he didn't look like he was on steroids, he looked homegrown, and that was bad, really bad because the girl was a sucker for homegrown and homemade things, including men if that even makes any damn sense.

She almost squeals when she realises he caught her staring a little too long at his bicep, and she whips her eyes below his chest, trying to bury her feet in the dirt, and that was a mistake because she can see that his thighs looked really good in those stupid cargos he was wearing.

She swallows a mouthful of sour apple flavoured saliva, and takes the little stick from her mouth, licking the sugar and lipgloss off her lips.

"You got one for me?" He smiles and his dimples pop, making her stomach flip as she starts rummaging in her handbag without a second thought.

"Which one do you want?" She asks and this time tries very hard to keep the eye contact steady, he bites his lower lip, still smiling, "Which one are you having?"

"Sour Apple," She replies.

"Sour Apple it is," He nods and finally stands to his full height.

She's almost worried he's just about to leave, even though she came here with Jax, but it's not like she's Jax's girl, or they're even really talking, the man just likes to uhh— Doesn't matter, they haven't even fucked because she knows how much Jax goes stupid for sweet pussy, so if he wants to date her, he has to prove himself responsible and capable. So for now, she can play with other boys, it won't kill him (just a little).

"Can I sit?" He nods at the empty spot next to her and she nods.

Once he sits, he tries to make a little bit of space between them, out of respect of course, but there isn't much space with people on both sides, and the man has stupid broad shoulders and long legs, so that doesn't help much either. So their bodies are pressed from shoulder, to down their hips and thighs.

She hands him his lollipop and he accepts it with a whispered thanks that makes her flush a little, his voice deep and pleasant, making her tingle every time he opened his mouth. The man immediately brings the plastic covered hard sweet to his mouth and rips the plastic with his teeth, pocketing the wrapper and she smiles a little as he pops the sweet treat in his mouth, humming, "I'm Benny, by the way,"

"Tangy," She answers with the nickname given to her by Jax, the one that was quickly adopted by half of Charming because he can't keep his mouth shut. It's not like she hates it, she thinks it's cute, it's just that he tends to get a little carried away when he's face to face with a pretty girl, I mean, he did admit to be a sucker for a pretty face on more than one occasion, so when he thinks he likes a girl, he's probably just in love with what's between her legs, and Jax tends to confuse that a lot. So as much as Tangy entertained the man - a little attention from a handsome fella never hurt a gal - she was aware enough to know she had to keep him waiting on her, just to see if her effect on him will wear off and maybe he'll realise he actually loves her, or he just loves being with her. She was a pretty girl after all, and a lot of guys do want to be with her, and Jax is not immune to the feeling you get when a gorgeous girl wants to be seen with you.

"Tangy? Your mama saw you in that hospital and decided to call you Tangy?" Benny teased and Tangy made a face, scrunched her nose, "No! It's a nickname!"

"Aw, alright, and what does it mean?" He grinned, leaning a little closer.

She shrugged, "It means tangerine,"

He frowned, confused, and held his chin in his free hand, "Why?"

"Cuz I smell like them,"

Benny stares at her without saying anything and her eyes fall to his lips, realising his lollipop was long gone, and he was now chewing on the little white plastic stick. He must be one of those people who chew on lollipops because they're too damn impatient. He takes it out of his mouth with his left hand and leans in, grabbing a strand of shiny hair between his fingers and Tangy holds her breath. Benny doesn't break the eye contact when he brings the hair to his nose, inhaling.

His eyelashes flutter and he gently lets go of her hair, "Well, if I'll be damned, you do smell tangerine sweet,"

Benny doesn't straighten up, instead his head is still tilted down and super close to hers, Tangy can feel his left hand on the bench behind her back, and she could smell cologne and Sour Apple and just feel how warm he was, or maybe she was the one burning up, hard to tell.

His stare was intense and she didn't dare to speak. Her heart is beating fast in her chest and she feels a little vulnerable under his gaze, like she was naked, in a good way, in a thrilling way.

She was wearing an off shoulder mini dress with boots, but Benny was looking at her like she was lathered in cream and sprinkles. Tangy gulped and watched how Benny ever slowly brought a hand up, to give her a chance to pull back or run away if she didn't want him to touch her. But Tangy sat still, looking at him with huge Bambi eyes until he caressed her naked shoulder with his knuckles. She shivered and his eyes looked darker then, his pupils blown as he leaned in even closer, tilting her chin up with his thumb and index finger, "Jesus, look at you,"

His hold on her chin trembled a little and he looked a little pained. Tangy frowned in concern, "What?"

Benny laughed, finally pulling away and took his hat to run his fingers through his hair and put his hat back on. Tangy watched him pull at his shirt to try and cool his skin and started pulling down at his short-sleeved button up, as an attempt to cover his crotch.

Tangy looked a little confused until she saw his red ears, "You okay, Benny?"

"Hm, yeah, I just—" Benny cleared his throat and ran a hand down his face, looking at her with heavy lidded eyes, "Wanna get outta here?"

Tangy didn't say anything, she looked down and thought about it. That would be a dick move to just flake out on Jax like that, but also, where the fuck was he, anyway?

"I came here with someone…" Tangy said, sounding apologetic.

"Where's he then? He's your boyfriend?" Benny asked and Tangy shook her head, "He's not my boyfriend and he left to get me a drink,"

"He's taking an awful lot with those drinks, it's not nice to leave a lady hanging like that," Benny said and stood up then, looking around and back down at her.

Tangy was almost tempted in making an excuse for Jax, but he was taking way too long with those drinks, God knows what he's up to, and she wasn't his old lady or his damn pet, so if she wanted to up and leave with a hot stranger, she would.

"Ah fuck those drinks," She grabbed her bag in her right hand and got up, pulling down at her short dress down, bringing Benny's eyes down at the movement. He tries not to stare, acting cool and dragging his eyes further down on the ground. But even then, he can't wipe the grin from his face. Tangy notices, because of course she does, "Benny,"

"Hm?" He lifts his eyes to her pretty face and his heart skips a beat when she sticks her hand out, palm facing up. Benny doesn't hesitate to place his bigger hand in hers. As soon as she grips his hand, she turns around and pulls him through the benches and the crowds while he's smiling from ear to ear like a damn fool.

His own name rings in his head like an echo too, her voice was pretty and his name sounds so good coming out of that mouth. He'd love to hear her say it again and again right in his ear until he can hear it even in the dark of the night, when he's alone in bed.

Benny's a little distracted staring at her soft, smooth thighs when her back hits his firm chest and he quickly stops in his tracks, his hands on her shoulders now.

"Oh, hell no!" Jax is standing right there, with two beers in hand as he glares at Benny. He looks a little disgusted too.

Tangy doesn't say anything, instead she crosses her arms over her chest and steps a little backwards, and Benny realises she was trying to mold her back to his chest, to make sure he wasn't going anywhere, and he'd rather break both legs before he even gets the chance to suck the sour apple flavour off her lips.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jax is pissed, glaring at Benny and Tangy realises they must know each other, so she whips her head, hair hitting Benny's chest.

"Sightseeing." Benny rolls his eyes, "I came here to check on my favourite cousin,"

"Fuck you, Benny," Jax scoffs and Tangy looks at him and back at Jax in shock, "You're cousins?" No wonder they look similar.

"I love you too, Jax, now, I'll come say hi to your mom later in the week, I'm busy right now," Benny says and grabs Tangy by the arms, about to herd her out of the place.

"Busy doing what, you unemployed asshole?" Jax seethes.

"First of, I'm retired, you dirtbag! And I'm—" Benny just looks down at Tangy, Jax clenches his jaw and Tangy knows he's about to punch Benny in the face so she raises a finger in the air, "Don't you fucking dare, Jackson!"

Jax freezes in place and Tangy glares at him, "I'll be leaving with Benny now, good night,"

Tangy doesn't wait for him to speak when she grabs Benny by the hand and pulls him away from the man. Benny's a smug bastard and he doesn't even have to look back to know that Jax was furious. So Benny squeezes the hand in his and grins when the prettiest girl he's ever seen looks over her shoulder and smiles back at him.

.

.

.

That night, Benny led them to his truck and opened the passenger door for Tangy, she climbed and buckled herself in. She immediately noticed a lot of things when the man got in the truck and turned the ignition on. She couldn't see the truck that well in the night, but once inside, it was clear it was a new truck. It was modern and spacious on the inside. She wasn't a car person by any means but she has an inkling that this vehicle must've cost him a pretty penny, if the heated and comfortable seat she was on was anything to go by. Benny had a friendship bracelet hanging off the rear view mirror too, with "BENY" spelled on the beads, clearly made by a child who can't spell very well. It was cute.

Tangy grinned and leaned forward, thumbing at the bracelet, "Cute, made that yourself?"

Benny snorted, "Is that a military joke?"

"You're in the military?" She asked, genuinely surprised.

"Not anymore, retired," Benny answers, "Aren't you gonna ask where I'm taking you?" He's now on the road, driving past the gym and the parking lot.

"Probably back to the motel where you're staying," Tangy answered with a shrug and Benny was surprised she got it right, "Yeah, that's right," He chuckles a little.

"Benny?"

"Yeah?"

He sees her shuffle in the corner of his eye, and he quickly glances at her, Tangy is now facing him and looking at him with her teeth in her lower lip. Benny just blinks at her and then looks back at the road, waiting for her to speak. "I'm not promising anything tonight, I've got limits and I expect you to respect them,"

"Of course," Benny nods.

Usually he goes straight to foreplay and fucking on one night stands, he's never had anyone really talk to him before, maybe some dirty talk, but never like this.

"So, Benny, all I ask is for you to listen and do what I say, that is if you're comfortable, of course," She speaks steadily in his rumbling truck and Benny shifts a little in his seat.

"Alright," Benny nods.

"You think you can do that for me?" She asks right in his ear this time and he shivers, "Yes, ma'am,"

"Okay," He feels her grin against the side of his face and she presses a quick, sticky kiss to his cheek over his stubble.

He inhales sharply and presses his foot a little harder on the gas pedal, trying to get faster to the motel.

Once they get to the motel, Benny's room is at the end of the building, Tangy is barely inside the room when Benny immediately drops to his knees and grabs her thighs in his big hands, squeezing and nuzzling his face on the soft skin, scratching her with his facial hair. Tangy squeals, dropping her bag on the floor and taking his hat off, throwing it on the floor and grabbing his blonde hair tight in her hands, she pulls and Benny moans, the sound travelling up her legs right to her pussy.

His head is thrown back and his Adam's apple bobs, then he blinks quickly and looks back at her, he looks so desperate on his knees, with his eyes shiny and his hair mussed up, the tips of his ears were red and his chest was rising with each breath he took. Tangy tilts her head to the side, staring at the man at her feet as he ever so slowly drags his hands higher up her soft thighs, the calluses on them making her breath come out a little shaky.

Benny doesn't drop the eye contact when he slowly pushes the hem of her mini dress higher and higher up her thighs, with every millimetre of newly exposed skin, his hands are migrating closer and closer to the back of her legs where his fingers make contact with the swell of her ass and the soft fabric of her panties. Benny closes his eyes and pushes his head closer, burying his face right between her legs, right on her covered pussy as he groans and paws at her ass like a starved man.

Tangy lets him. Her hands on his hair as a makeshift leash as he shakes under her, breathing her in like he's never had pussy in his life.

Benny starts moving his face around, absolutely shameless in the way he tries to bite the fabric of her panties to try and pry them off, his beard rubs on the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs, making her hiss, "Benny!"

She pulls at his hair and he looks up, gaze heavy and a little stupid, "Hm?"

"Your beard's scratchy," She says with a small smile, enamoured with the big man at her feet.

"I can shave it," Benny blurts out without thinking and Tangy gapes at him, surprised.

She sees the moment his brain comes back online and he realises what he just said, flushing a pretty pink, "Uh, I mean— I could, if you wanted me to, it grows fast anyway,"

Tangy starts laughing, bringing a hand to her mouth, trying to control her giggles while Benny watches her with big honest eyes. He's smiling too at least, loving the sound of her giggles due to his antics.

"No, uhm, you don't have to shave anything, honey," She says in between giggles, shoulders shaking.

"Okay," He nods, his thumbs simultaneously rubbing at her skin while he just waits for her to tell him what to do.

"Benny, baby," She coos and bends down a little and cups his face in both hands. Benny holds onto the back of her legs, over her boots and she kisses his forehead, then the bridge of his nose and finally his mouth. Benny's insides are turning in excitement, his groin is tingling and the hairs at the back of his neck are standing straight.

He raises a little higher on his knees, neck bent back to accept everything she was giving him. And Benny was over the moon when he realised her mouth still tasted like sour apple and everything he's dreamed of in dark barracks, rainy days curled up under mud and stone, and scorching heat hugging the back of his sweat slick neck like a noose. She tasted like heaven in the flesh.

When Tangy pulls back, her lips are wet with spit and she speaks right in his mouth, "Take me to bed and kiss me like you mean it,"

Benny does just that, quickly getting back on his feet and lifting her body off the ground with his hands on her ass. Tangy immediately wraps her legs around his hips and puts her arms around his shoulders. The bed was just three steps away, but the raw display of strength made it so that her pussy throbbed with every step he took with her in his arms.

Benny makes quick work of dropping her on the bed on her back, she bounces a little on the old mattress and she's still got her boots on.

Benny practically rips his shirt off and she's glad he's not wearing anything underneath it. Her eyes zeroed on the light hairs on his chest, he doesn't waste time when he gets on the bed and hovers above her body, grinning when her hands go straight to his pecs, shamelessly feeling him up.

"You like whatchu see?" Benny murmurs, leaning down to nuzzle her neck.

"Yeah, I do," He can hear the smile in her voice and he feels her hands trail down his back, running over his skin, making their way to his cargo's waistband, he feels her grab tight on the fabric and pulls. Benny gasps when he feels her knee between his legs and her hips lift off the bed, grinding onto his.

Benny locks their mouths together then, making out with her like it was the last time he'll ever do it, sinking his body as low as he could without squishing her under his weight. She was warm and soft, and smelled so heavenly. She did smell like tangerines. In truth, as soon as he first stood in front of her, he could smell her, he just didn't say anything, and boy was he glad, because then he had an excuse to get close to her.

He also knew she was with Jax that night, before he even spoke with her. He didn't even contact his cousin to let him know he was dropping by Charming for a short visit. He planned on surprising Jax over at the fight and have a beer with him, maybe even jump in the ring if they felt like it. But as soon as he saw Jax with Tangy his plans were scrapped.

He watched Jax look at her with a hunger akin to a lion who hasn't eaten in weeks. He also knows that in no way she was Jax's old lady, if she was, the news would've already made it back home, no way Jax can resist the temptation of mentioning her, especially with how gorgeous she clearly was.

Benny just wanted to say hello, but he was a bastard, and when he saw Jax get up and leave, he had to strike. He knew if Jax was around, he won't really have the chance to talk to her properly. Especially since his cousin was a greedy motherfucker. And who wouldn't? When she was sitting right there, looking like an angel in her mini dress and boots.

And now he was asked to take off the same dress and boots in the darkness of his motel room. Benny doesn't need to be told twice when he grabs the hem of the dress and pulls it higher and higher, over her head. His breath hitches when his eyes land on her naked chest, and then down to her panties, baby blue with tiny lace trims. Benny slowly lets the dress drop down on the floor, by the bed, and he holds her hips in his hands before leaning down and pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss.

His gentleness surprises her a little, but she quickly recovers and wraps her arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him in closer. He smiles in the kiss and pulls away, she makes a sad noise and he quickly pecks her again, "I have to take your boots off,"

"Okay," She sighs, as if his attention wasn't 1000% on her, and her alone. Tangy lays back down on the bed and lifts one of her feet up. Benny chuckles and takes it in his hand, unzipping her boot to reveal white socks. He drops the leg, drops the boot beside the bed and takes the other one off, this time Benny kisses the side of her knee, then bends the leg towards her, she gasps and Benny places a warm kiss to the inside of her knee.

"What're you doing?" Her laugh was breathy and a little shaky as he peppers her legs in kisses.

"Saying thank you," He murmurs against the meat of her thighs and opens his mouth, digging his teeth in the flesh a little to feel her jump.

"Aw, you're so sweet," She bites her lower lip and holds his hair in one hand.

Benny stares at her when he closes his mouth and lets her leg go, then he starts unbuckling his trousers off and tries to push them off his hips while he's on his knees between her legs. He tries to get them off and huffs when they don't fall off in half a second.

"You need to take your boots off," Tangy smirks and Benny grumbles, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress as he pulls the laces of his boots loose. He tries to toe them off multiple times, which takes him longer to take off rather then just making sure his laces were loose enough, now at this point Tangy was watching him on her side, her head resting on her hand while she laughs.

Benny was flushed in embarrassment as he slips his cargos off and throws them across the room, making her squeal and laugh even louder.

Benny never felt so clumsy or just plain stupid on a one night stand before in his life. So he's struggling a little here, his heart was hammering in his chest and his dick was hard as a rock while the prettiest and sweetest sight was right there on his bed, half naked, and laughing at him. Benny takes a deep breath and runs a hand down his face, running his fingers down his short beard as he tries to breathe a little, to calm down.

He feels the mattress dip next to him and the sweet scent of her hits his nose, he closes his eyes and sighs when she wraps her hands around his chest, from behind.

"You need a minute?" She asks, her breath hitting the crook of his neck as she squeezes her body to his, her bare chest to his muscular back and Benny shivers. His hands grabs hers and she hums, pressing in even more, curling her body over his back and now he can feel her thighs press at his back, she was warm and her sweet, fruity scent was enveloping him in a cocoon he almost never wants to come out of.

Benny remembers she just asked him a question so he tilts his head up, looking at her upside down, "How about you give me another kiss?"

Tangy smiles and she leans down, kissing him, her chin to his nose. Her lips were soft and Benny was addicted.

At some point, Tangy ends up on her back again with Benny on top of her, and this time he was kissing her all over her neck and chest. He goes lower and lower until he reaches the waistband of her panties. She grabs his hair again, he humps the mattress and shakily slips her panties off. And once they're off, something in Benny's brain shifts and he drags her towards him by the legs, she yelps and he doesn't say a word, eyes stuck to the tantalising sight of her wet pussy.

He pushes a pillow under her hips and gets in the sniper position between her legs. She barely gets a warning before Benny locks his mouth over her hole and filthily sucks her lips. She tries to talk to him, to maybe ask him to slow down, but all that's coming out of her mouth were debauched moans and sighs. Her hands were holding onto his hair firmly as he ate her out with a passion and drive like no other. She squirms in his hold and Benny just holds her still with his hands, no shy with using his strength to push her down and harder on his face.

Tangy was too engrossed in trying to keep her soul in her body instead of flying straight to space to even notice the cacophony of noises Benny was making against her pussy, and out of it too, playing it like a musical instrument. Even with a mouth full of pussy, he was still desperate, so desperate he couldn't even take his hands off her skin to jerk himself off. Instead, Benny was humping the bed faster and faster, his eyes watering with how much he wanted to come, but mostly have her come in his mouth.

Tangy was panting, trying to take in oxygen more than the pure pleasure that was coursing through her veins. Her back arched off the bed and she was frantic, eyes watering with the rush of pleasure, "Bennnnnghhhh,"

She tried pulling at his hair to catch his attention, to warn him, that she felt like she was about to make a mess, "BennyBennyBenny—"

But Ben didn't look up, didn't slow down or even stop, if anything he went faster, harder, pushing his tongue in as deep as he possibly could inside her, his nose knocking her clit and his facial hair rubbing her in her most intimate places. Tangy couldn't even call his name another time because when he finally pulled off, he pushed a finger inside and the sound her pussy made was so wet and filthy she turned her head to the side and tried to bury it in the pillow. Benny didn't waste a single second and immediately started thrusting his middle finger in her slick hole, and when he deemed her wet, and loose enough, he shoved another and went to town.

Benny held his body up with one muscular arm as he fingered her faster and faster. He wasn't giving her even the chance to breathe or process when her trashing got more frantic, so Benny quickly lowered himself back down and sucked her clit in his mouth while fingering her. Tangy's body couldn't hold on anymore and her thighs closed around his head, squeezing him as she loudly came. She throbbed and squeezed tight around his fingers, spilling warm juices and even then, Benny didn't slow down, her breath hitched and she clenched her jaw, eyes unable to open back up as she started squirting all over his face, sobbing with her whole chest.

Tangy's body was tingling all over, her cells singing with pure, zesty pleasure. Her skin was warm to the touch and slick with sweat, her ears were ringing and her eyelashes were wet and clumped together. The bed's old, cheap sheets felt like silk at her back, and the rickety mattress felt like the softest, cotton candy cloud. And she never felt so naked before. So when her soul settled back in her body and her brain came back online, she opened her eyes with difficulty and when she met Benny's honest eyes, she smiled.

Benny grinned, his facial hair darker with her slick, panting and his hair a mess from her abuse, sticking in all directions.

Tangy tried to get up but her body failed her, not moving a single inch, so she sadly whined, desperate for a kiss and a cuddle.

Benny somehow was able to read her mind and hovered over her body, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then on her mouth.

He smells like her.

He smells like her pussy and her body lotion.

Tangy has never tasted or smelled anything so right before.

.

.

.

Tangy stays over that night, not like she even had a chance to get her legs to work. And Benny was over the moon, so excited, like a kid on his first sleepover.

She complains about being sticky when she's half asleep and Benny's in the bathroom, washing his face, but he catches her scratchy voice still. Once he's done, he goes back in the room and gathers her in his arms like a baby, sits her on the toilet seat and tells her to go ahead and pee. Tangy is still naked, and frowns at him in confusion and in sleepiness, "What?"

"I'll wait right here," Benny says with his arms crossed over his chest.

The woman whines, resting her head on her knees, nothing happens at first, and then after a minute, the sound of a light trickle gets heard. She lifts her head back up to look at Benny, she's pouting now, "Can you look away?"

Benny doesn't tease her like he wants to and instead turns around, slipping his ruined boxers off and throwing them in the hamper. He grabs his toothbrush and starts brushing his teeth right as he hears the sound of the toilet flushing. He glances behind his back and she's still sitting on the toilet seat, looking at him like a kicked puppy, "I can't stand,"

Benny's heart squeezes in his chest, but also he feels his ego inflate and it feels so damn good.

He quickly leaves the bathroom and comes back with a new spare toothbrush, still in the packaging. He opens the thing and runs it under the sink, squeezing toothpaste on it before offering it to the girl so she can brush her teeth. And she does, after thanking him in a small tired voice, once he's done brushing his own teeth, he grabs her arm and throws it over his shoulder so he can help her up. He helps her get to the sink where she spits and rinses her mouth, once she's done and the toothbrush is next to his in the little cup hanging off the wall, Benny gets them inside the shower.

"Am I heavy?" She asks while Benny fiddles with the water tap and water starts trickling down the shower head.

Benny turns his head to look at her while she's pressed to his side, arms wrapped around his neck, "Ain't nothing heavy about you," And he says it so gently, so softly, as if he always knew her, and that makes her want to cry a little, but she doesn't.

"How hot do you like it?" Benny then asks as he fixes the water.

"Really hot," She says and Benny grins, "Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am, we only have mildly hot, and just a little hot in here, which one would you like?"

Tangy grins against his chest and squeezes him tighter, "I'll have it the hottest it gets,"

"Okay," Benny kisses her on the forehead and turns the hot water to the max, waiting for it to heat up a little, and when it does, he walks them a little closer to the wall, under the water spray.

"Water pressure's shit," Tangy mumbles and Benny snorts.

"Water pressure at my place is much better, it's strong and got all sorts of fancy settings," Benny says as he grabs his body wash and the loofah, he holds it out for the woman when the thing's all covered in foam.

"Why're you telling me about the water pressure at your house, mister?" She starts rubbing the loofah all over her skin, starting with her neck, arms, chest and then down her body while Benny watches, well, mostly holding her up because her legs were still shaking like hell after the mind numbing orgasm he pulled out of her.

"I don't know," Benny shrugs, staring at her breasts while she soaps them up, "Maybe I'm trying to give you an incentive to do this again with me,"

"What makes you think I want to do this again?" She raises a brow and Benny rips his eyes away from her nipples to look at her face.

He makes a face, like he thinks she's trying to be funny, but then he says, "Okay, raise both of your arms right now,"

Tangy frowns in confusion, and when she realises if she even lets go of his neck with her other hand, she'll eat the floor, she glares at him and slaps his chest with the soapy loofah, "Do my back,"

"Alright," He chuckles and grabs the loofah. She hugs him, chest to chest and Benny covers her back with soap all thanks to his long arms, and because he's a little shit he goes the long mile to cover her ass too, taking longer than he should, just squeezing the flesh in his hands like she was his own personal stress toy.

"Benny, what's wrong with you?" She whines, trying and failing to push him off when he's the only thing keeping her standing.

"Appreciating you, baby,"

"Well hurry, I'm tired,"

Benny does hurry up and washes her legs and feet without her having to ask. He washes her hair too fo good measure and he washes himself as fast as he could with her cheek squished to his arm and her weight on his side.

They're done sooner than later and Benny does a quick job of drying them. He, of course, carries her back to the room and places her on the chair next to the bed. He changes the sheet as fast he could, itching to just hop in bed and go to sleep with her in his arms. He throws the old sheets next to the door and he contemplates getting under the new sheets naked, but decides against it. So he quickly slips on a new pair of boxers and fetches the woman one of his clean t-shirts out of his duffel bag, the softest one he could find.

Tangy hums in satisfaction once she's enveloped in soft cotton and then in warm, muscular arms and finally under the sheets with Benny. The man lays on his back and he pulls her closer by the waist, so she could rest her head on his chest, her hair was still drying but it didn't bother him as he leaned down and kissed the crown of her head.

He relaxes on the mattress, and his eyes fluttered shut, ready to sleep when he felt her move a little and call his name, "Benny?"

"Hm?"

"Did you get to come?" She sounded confused and a little worried.

Benny cracked one eye open, "Yeah, why?"

"What- When? I don't remember," She said and he could hear the pout in her voice.

"It happened right after you squirted on my face,"

"Oh,"

Her voice came out smaller then, she sounded shy and that made him smile.

"Good night, sweetheart," He said, squeezing her arm once and closing his eyes back up.

"Night, Benny," She yawned and nuzzled her face on his chest.

.

.

.

The next morning Benny drives Tangy back to her place, and she tells him to be a good boy and wait outside for her. Benny listens, even though he really wants to go inside. He's leaning against his truck, hands in his pockets when she comes back out, after 20 minutes, dressed in a new outfit.

Benny straightens up like he's back in the army, high on alert, eyes glued to her and only her.

She decided to swap the mini dress and boots with a cropped t-shirt, low-rise jeans and a pair of converses. Tangy grins and walks right past him to get to the passenger' seat, "You promised me breakfast, come on!"

The diner they end up in is at least a hundred years old, the type that's run by a local family and got waitresses who know everyone and everything going on, and the food happen to be really delicious.

So Tangy and Benny get settled in a booth by the windows by an older woman with gorgeous braids falling down her back, "Hey, sweetheart, who do we have here?" She greets Tangy and raises her eyebrows at Benny, who's already got the menu in his hands.

"That's Benny, my friend," Tangy answers with a glint in her eye, and Benny looks at them with a small smile.

"Uh-huh, I'm sure, honey," The woman nods knowingly and fully turns to Benny, "First time in town?"

Benny puts the menu down, "No, ma'am, I just haven't been here in a couple of years,"

"The military does that to you, hm," She nods and Benny nods in understanding, arms crossed over his chest and leaning back in his seat.

Tangy looks at Benny then back at the waitress, "How did you know?"

"I just know these things," She shrugs, "Welcome back to Charming, Benny,"

Benny tilts his head in courtesy, "Thank you," He glances down at the name tag on her chest, "Thank you, Jamila,"

Jamila grins and looks at Tangy, a hand over her mouth, "He's handsome, girl!"

Tangy laughs and Benny grins, "I like your name, it fits you,"

Jamila and Tangy stare at him. Jamila pops her hip out, "Is that right?"

"Yeah, it means beautiful in Arabic," Benny nods and Jamila squeals, "It does! How did you know?"

"I just know these things," He shrugs, mirroring her previous words and Jamila giggles, throwing one of her long braids behind her shoulder.

"Tangy," She turns to the woman, "You have to keep him. Marry him, tie him down, don't let him leave Charming,"

"Uhhh," Tangy feels her skin warm up as Benny laughs, head thrown back and all.

"I'm just joking with you, unless," Jamila smirks and looks between the two with a knowing look.

Once Benny and Tangy calm down a little, Jamila takes out a pencil out of her pocket, and a notepad, "Alright, do you know what you two want or should I give you time to decide?"

Benny looks at Tangy, "What do you want to do?"

Tangy smiles, "I'll be getting two sunny side up eggs with cherry tomatoes on the side, please,"

"Hm, alright, how about you, baby?" The older woman turns to Benny, who smiles, "Can I have a stack of pancakes, and a cup of coffee, black, please?"

The waitress nods, jotting down their order, "Coming right up, lover birds,"

"Oh, can I have some water too, please?" Tangy says and the waitress nods, "Yeah, of course," She then leaves, going straight up to the counter to shout their order to the kitchen.

Benny sighs, relaxing a bit in his chair, staring at Tangy sitting from across him, "So,"

"So?" Tangy repeats, playing with a napkin and not meeting his eyes.

Benny crosses his arms over the table and leans forward on it, "How are you feeling?"

Tangy looks up at him, "I'm okay, you?"

"Better than okay," He licks his lower lip, his eyes falling down to her lips then back up at her eyes.

"How long are you staying in town for?" She asks, resting her cheek in her palm.

"A week until I have to leave and go back to work," Benny answers.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a boxer," Benny says and Tangy makes a 'ooh' sound.

"Like professional?"

"More like semi-professional," Benny answers with a small smile.

"Jax fights too, sometimes," She says ripping the napkin in half with one hand and Benny feels the corner of his mouth twitch at the mention of his annoying cousin.

"Illegally," Jax adds and she nods, "Well, yeah, he's fucking crazy but he's good at it,"

"I don't know, last time I saw him fight was when we were ten and it was behind the dumpsters by the Goodwill with some other kids," Benny sighed and Tangy snorted, "He told me about that, didn't mention you though,"

"Well, he did fall on his head that day," Benny says and Tangy chuckles, the sound making him smile.

"Did he mention how when one of the older kids threw him in one of the dumpsters, he grabbed a rat and threw it at them?" Benny says and Tangy squeals with laughter, shoulders shaking.

"No!" She laughs and Benny laughs, "Yeah, and I had to pull him out of the dumpsters and we beat them up before a cop saw us and we had to run home,"

The two keep giggling like children, Tangy's feet intertwined with Benny's under the table, but really, his legs were too long and Benny had no choice but to have her legs between his, their knees touching. Their food came soon enough, with a smiling Jamila who poured them coffee and water. Benny thanked her with a charming smile and she couldn't resist ruffling his hair.

They ate in relative silence, comfortable to just focus on their food and hum when the food was especially good. It wasn't anything special but for some reason it tasted much better than what you could make at home. Maybe it was just because they were having a great morning, and someone else was doing the cooking, whatever it was, Tangy and Benny were having a great time.

However, their peace didn't last long when the diner's door swung open with a ding and a shadow was cast over their table.

"Morning, Jax!" Tangy greeted with a smile, not feeling guilty in the slightest for leaving him yesterday at the gym.

Jax looked her up and down, then looked at Benny, who kept on chewing the last remains of his pancakes with a raised brow. Jax then sits on the bench, next to Tangy, "Move over,"

Tangy sighed and grabbed her empty plate, moving further into the booth as Jax sits right across from Benny, "You betrayed me,"

"Okay, I didn't, though," Benny shrugs, not giving a rat's ass while Jax glares daggers at him.

Tangy looks around, noticing that the patrons are looking a little uncomfortable with Jax glaring at his cousin like he pissed on his bike, so she rolls her eyes and raises a single hand, catching Jamila's attention, "Can I have a vanilla shake?"

Jamila nods and Tangy smiles, "Thanks!"

"You knew she was with me that night and you still went ahead and took her," Jax points an accusatory finger at him, speaking in a low voice.

"She's not with you though, not her boyfriend," Benny crosses his arms over his chest.

"He didn't take me, I went with him," Tangy glares at Jax.

The two ignore her as Jax glares at Benny and Benny just raises his chin in defiance, daring his cousin to do something about it.

"You're leaving Charming today," Jax says and Benny bursts out laughing, "Oh, oh, or what? You gon' run over my foot with your bike?"

Jax growls and leaps across the table, grabbing his cousin by the collar, making Tangy jump in surprise, "Hey!"

Benny smiles at Jax, and holds his wrists in his hands, "Go on, I dare you,"

"No! Jackson Teller! You want to break someone's nose, you do it outside my diner!" Jamila glares at them, pointing at the door with Tangy's vanilla milkshake in the other.

Jax stares long at his cousin before he pushes him back and gets up from his seat, leaving the diner with his hands in his pockets.

Benny then shoves his hands in his pocket and takes out a couple of bills, sliding them under an empty glass and gets up, "Benny, what are you doing?" Tangy asks, a little worried.

"Don't worry about it," Benny grins and follows his cousin outside.

Jamila comes over to the table, counting the money left and hands Tangy her shake, "You alright, honey?"

"Yeah," Tangy nods and thanks the woman, following the men outside the diner, the door closing behind her with a ding as she watches Jax run his hands through his hair in frustration, "Okay, what did you?"

Benny looks a little surprised, "Excuse me?"

"Last night,"

Benny snorts, "Oh buddy, I wouldn't tell you in your condition,"

Tangy has never seen Jax move so fast before in her life, he throws a neat punch to Benny's jaw, who stumbles back with a grunt.

She doesn't even gasp, but she does wince at the hit, cold milkshake held with both hands as she takes sips while watching them fight.

Benny quickly gets his bearings back and he buries his hands in his pockets, taking out his wallet, keys and phone, handing them to Tangy. She takes his things, and looks behind her to the stairs by the diner's door, she sits down on the side, so people can still come and go without stepping over her. She puts his things next to her and looks up at Jax who throws his kutte over her lap without saying anything.

The two men start circling each other with their fists up, Jax looks pissed and Benny looks amused, "That really grinding your gears, Jax, didn't it? I never knew a girl like that would even look your way and look how things played out for me. I never, and I'm being serious, never tasted anything better than what's between her le-"

Jax lunges at him and this time tries to punch him in the stomach, Tangy tries to keep up but they're fast and Benny wraps his arms around Jax's midriff and slams him on the ground. He gets on top of him and tries to punch him in the face as Jax uses his arms to protect his face. He suddenly raises his hips and throws Benny off balance, he even kicks him with his knee on his ass and Benny falls forward on his hands. Jax rolls from under him and gets back on his knees, wrapping an arm around the man's neck and pulling.

They're really going at it, kicking up dirt and pebbles, but Tangy can't help but notice that even though they sometimes hit each other in the face, Jax's not really trying to really hurt Benny. She's seen how he fights when he tries to kill someone, and it isn't a pretty sight, so it's relieving that Jax is not looking to seriously injure the man but to just drag him through the dirt for getting his hands on her before Jax could, because sure, Benny doesn't know, but Jax knows that he hasn't even gotten the chance to taste what's between her legs, the closest he got was kissing her and feeling her up over her clothes. So Jax was pissed, knowing Benny met her for one day and managed to get personal with her body. It pissed him off.

So Tangy sips more of her milkshake, enjoying the sweet drink on the stairs, sitting pretty while they pull and punch at each other in front of the diner, giving the patrons a free show behind the windows.

She looks down at her drink, pulling out the straw to bring the bottom of it up to her mouth, liking the bits of ice cream stuck to it, she tries to be careful but a chunk of ice cream still falls on her chin and on her chest, over her t-shirt. She whines, bringing a finger to scoop the ice cream off her chest and lick it clean. She looks up then, freezing with her finger in her mouth when she meets Jax and Benny's eyes, the two staring at her while panting, knees covered in dirt and hair mussed with sweat. Benny's left eyebrow was quickly swelling up and Benny's got blood down his chin, from his nose.

A laugh bubbles out of her throat in disbelief and she takes her finger out of her mouth, swiping the sweet ice cream from her chin with her finger, to then suck it off with a hum. Jax blinks out of the hypnotising sight before Benny and punches him in the shoulder.

Benny doesn't even wait a second before kicking Jax square in the ass and Jax shouts. He jumps to grab Benny by the hair, about to headbutt him when Tangy's laugh distracts him, he turns to look at her and she's almost on the floor now, hunched over with one arm over her stomach, laughing with little tears at the corner of her eyes.

"Let go, asshole," Benny grits through his teeth and Jax lets go of his head with a grumble.

She keeps giggling as Jax rubs at his ass and Benny tries to wipe the blood off his chin with the back of his hands and failing. Then the door of the diner opens behind her, she looks back and Jamila's standing there with two towels and two ice packs. Tangy thanks her, grabbing them and handing the woman her empty milkshake glass.

"Get them home before they scare off all of my clients," Jamila says, tilting her chin towards the two men.

"I will," Tangy nods and Jamila sighs, turning around and going back inside the diner.

Benny and Jax squeeze themselves next to her, on both sides of the small stairs, she makes a face, "Guys, you're sticky with sweat,"

None of them care as they try to sit as much as possible on the stairs, which doesn't work. She's squished between them and Jax glares at Benny, "Move over,"

"No, you move,"

Tangy sighs and wraps the ice packs in a towel each, then hands them to the men.

Benny starts wiping the blood off his chin and nose, and Jax hisses when he presses the cold towel to his eyebrow and immediately takes it off his brow to wipe his forehead and neck.

"No, Jax," Tangy sighs, grabbing the towel off his hands and holding his face in one hand, and holds the towel to his brow, "You have to keep it on so it doesn't grow to the size of a golf ball,"

Jax licks his lips, staring at her like she just told him she'd heal him with the wave of a wand, then because he's a little shit, he glances at Benny without moving his head and smirks at the other man.

"Fuck off," Benny glares at Jax while holding the towel to his nose.

"Stop that," Tangy huffs, leaning down to kiss Benny on the forehead, and before Jax even has the chance to open his mouth and complain, she smacks a sweet kiss on his forehead too.

The two men melt at the same time, calming down while Tangy holds the towel to Jax's forehead, and checks on Benny from time to time. They eventually calm down and Jax takes the towel from her hold and pulls his shirt up, to look at his red side, and he pressed the ice pack to the area. Tangy looks at Benny, who's running the towel on the back of his neck and when he meets her eyes, he grins and winks at her. She rolls her eyes and stands up.

"Where're you going?" Jax immediately asks.

"Nowhere? Calm down," Tangy puts her hands on her hips and looks down at the two men sitting on the stairs.

"So, did you get that out of your system? Or should I expect you to fight everyday that Benny's here?" She's looking at Jax, but really, she's talking to both of them.

Jax leans back a little on the stairs, "Oh, I'm good,"

Tangy doesn't really believe him, but she looks at Benny, and he flashes his pretty dimples at her, "I'll behave, but you can't blame me if I have to fight anyone for you,"

The woman gapes at him, speechless, and Jax looks at him, "What's wrong with you, dude?"

"What? Look at her and tell me you won't fight anyone for a chance with her," Benny throws his hands in the air and Jax can't fight him on it. He already has fought for her, now and then, behind her back because he can't stand anyone talking about her like she's a piece of meat and not do anything.

Right in that moment two men show up, wearing kuttes, not like Jax's, so they have to be out of town. They're walking up to the door of the diner but their eyes are glued to Tangy standing there. One of them shamelessly lowers his sunglasses down his nose and looks her up and down. She glares at the men and crosses her arms over her chest, moving away from the door and that's when she sees Jax and Benny look at each other and stand at the same time.

Her heart jumps in her chest at the menacing look they were wearing, and especially when Jax slips his kutte back on and moves to stand next to her, snaking a hand around her waist to hold her.

The two strangers don't get in the diner even when Benny and Jax got off the stairs, staring at them without saying a word. Tangy's getting a little nervous when the men stare at Jax's kutte for a long time, and back at her face.

When no one moves or speaks, she moves and walks away from them and the diner, throwing a, "I'm going home!" over her shoulder. She was not interested in being in the middle of a fistfight, or worse, a shoot out.

Luckily Jax and Benny both run after her, "Hey, wait!" Jax calls, but she doesn't stop, trying to get away from those men as far as possible.

A hand grabs her arm and she yelps when she hits a firm chest.

"I'll drive you home," Benny says and Jax frowns, "I'll take her home,"

Tangy wants to groan but Benny says, "I said it first, though,"

"I know where she lives," Jax glares at him.

"I took her home so she could change this morning?" Benny scoffs.

"You can't even remember how to spell your own name, Benny," Jax snarks and Tangy looks at Benny in confusion, he immediately flushes, "I was six! And it was one time!"

"Don't believe him," Jax whispers to Tangy, like Benny wasn't right there.

"I'll kick your teeth in, Jax, I swear," Benny threatens and Jax grins, "I'd love to see you try, boy scout,"

Tangy's head is starting to hurt standing in between these two, so before they start fighting again like they're in elementary school she grabs both of them by the arm, "Enough!"

Jax and Benny's mouths click shut and they look at her with big eyes.

"Rock, paper, scissors. One round. Whoever wins drops me home." She says and when Jax opens his mouth, to probably complain, she raises her brows and he doesn't say anything, shoulders slumping and holding his fist behind his back, Benny mirroring him.

Jax throws scissors and Benny a rock.

She's swept off her feet by Benny then, who spins her around and is cheesing like he won the lottery. And if a small grey cloud could materialise on top of Jax's head and rain on him, it would.

.

.

.

(i remember @anime-lover-forever-1127 asking to be tagged for any jax fics, this is technically a crossover fic, but if it's not your cup of tea, just ignore it, much love <3)

[fanaticsnail]

Halloween: Eustass Kid

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word count: 3,200+

Themes: Eustass Kid x m!reader, werewolf!kid x human!reader, NSFW, 18+, smut, mdni, breeding, bondage, sub Kid x dom reader (switch both), love, feelings, emotions, term 'mates' used for coupling, romance if you squint, monsterfucking, you top Kid, creampie, Kid's werewolf form can only speak in one to two word sentences.

Notes: Happy Halloween! I hope you enjoy this fic!

The stare born by two tangerine orbs glared at you through a bowed head. Messy locks of scarlett cascaded over his lengthy lashes as his perpetual growl reverberated in the chasms of his chest.

Upper body bound in heavy chains of silver, a single cuffed wrist anchoring him to the floor by a thick bolt set within stone, Eustass Kid continued to raise his hackles up at you. Revealing sharpened canines, pearly and pristine as his left side scar rose with his grimace, you simply rolled your eyes and continued to read your newspaper without paying him any mind.

Plush pillows, shredded clothes, both his and yours, littered the surrounds of the bolt, forming a perfect nest around the creature. He could sleep if he wanted to, but the man now replaced by his alternate monster had different plans.

When Kid experienced his change on the lunar cycle, you were subject to more of a beast than the man you loved. The man who held your heart was buried deep within the belly, sometimes a softness depicted in the cool of the beast’s eyes. For now, the beast was simply just that: a werewolf bolted to the ground and bound in thick rings of silver.

“Don’t get all huffy with me, pretty boy,” you warn him, fluttering the pages as you straighten the curved edge. “Boss said you can’t be trusted around me when you’re like this. I don’t make the rules, I obey them: as must you.”

That comment was met with a roar, his teeth parting and salivating through the muzzle clasped against his snout. You huffed, slamming down your newspaper on the table, and turning your head towards the red-furred werewolf version of your lover and gave him a disciplinary look. He snarled at you, his upper lip tucked up at the corner in reaction to your glare.

“Really?” you scolded him, tilting your head to seek out his eyes with your own. “And here I thought you'd appreciate my company below decks.” You rose to your feet, brushing off your thighs and readjusting your shirt. As you began walking across the wooden floor, you continued your soft reprimand over your shoulder.

“I can hear you crying out, you know,” you spoke in absolutes, honesty being the only source found in your voice, “Not just howling at the moon, but true mourning keens, screaming for attention. As mate to your human counterpart, in my self-absorbed delirium, I thought that meant you wanted me.”

As your hand reached for the door, a soft whimper whistled through the back of the beast’s throat in a desperate plea to halt your motions.

“What?” you snap at him, turning back to face him once more. “Now you want me here? Which is it, pretty boy: I stay,” you gesture to the ground, “Or I go?” you point to the door.

The red-headed beast darts his muzzle from you to the floor in a bid to relay his desires. With a rumble in his chest and a soft snuff from his nose, you let out a groan in response to his motions.

“Fine,” you roll your eyes and remove your hand from the doorknob, “But if I stay, I need three things from you. First, sit,” you gesture strictly to the ground. The beast toppled down, sitting with its hind legs curled either side of its form. You smirked, shaking your head and walking just out of reach, should he desire to test the shackles.

“Second, stop snarling at me,” you scold him. His immediate reaction was a stuttered quiver of his upper lip as he hung his large tail tucked beneath him. He bowed his head low, peeking up through the auburn eyes reflecting his obedience. You chuckle, clicking your tongue and shaking your head at him.

“Third,” you approach the monstrous version of your lover, standing just on the perimeter should this overgrown pup decide to turn on you. “I know you can speak when you’re like this, pretty boy. Try to use your words, okay? That’s all I ask.”

“Mate,” the werewolf rumbled in a deep growl, “Me.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head and looking down at the seated werewolf maintaining an almost innocent air about him.

“Yes, I am your mate,” you nod towards the red-furred, overgrown puppy on the floor, “Good job using your words. Now that that’s settled, can I get back to reading the paper-?”

“-No.” The werewolf began to raise his teeth back, halting as he internally reminded himself that you ordered him not to snarl. “Mate, me.” You click your tongue, crossing over the perimeter line of safety towards the more feral, unhinged, and unpredictable version of your partner, Eustass Kid.

“We’ve established that, sweetheart,” you utter in empathy, tilting your head to the side and crossing your arms over your chest. “You and I are bound together as humans, and I love you in any form you take. You’re my mate, and I am yours.”

You knew it would be dangerous, you knew the consequences of stepping over that threshold. He could overpower you in a second, attempt to rattle and break out of his chains, and throw the muzzle off himself to bite, claw, and maim you. This is what you assumed your partner was attempting to protect you from.

What you weren’t expecting was Eustass Kid, sitting on the floor in his beastial form, looking up at you through pleading eyes while revealing his thick, hard, and weeping cock to you through his parted legs the closer you approached him.

Staggering a little in your step, your eyes immediately drew down to the angry, tapered tip drooling from the smaller slit at the top of his cock. Following along the bowed shaft, your gaze halted at the large bulb at the base of his cock above his fur-covered balls.

“Mate me.” The sound he let out was a soft whimper after such a request. “Breed.” His entire hulking form was submissive as he attempted to make himself lower to the ground, shielding his cock from your sight.

“Eustass,” you whispered, slowly reaching your hand forward as you drew ever closer towards the beast. “I can only just take your cock while you’re in your human form. It took us ages to even get to that point.” You gently pressed the flat of your palm on the top of his head, slowly carding your fingers through his coarse fur towards his pointed ears. “There’s not enough lubricant in the world for me to be able to take you within me like this.”

The beast whimpered, nudging his head into your palm while his huffed pants fell from his lips in rapid frequency. His cock twitched and pulsed the longer you made contact with his fur, his whines only growing in intensity as you began to scratch him behind his ears where the strap to the muzzle was located.

“Breed,” he desperately sobbed, his voice sounding like a mix of his humanity shining through alongside a beastial growl, “Me.”

“You…?” you pause, focussing on his eyes once more and darting your own between his. “You… Want me to breed you?”

The wolf emphatically bobbed his head up and down while whining, howling, panting, and heaving into your touch. Your lips parted and eyes rounded in shock as you peered down at the werewolf nudging your hand.

Immediately recalling the earlier conversations you’ve had with your partner in the past, you couldn't help but laugh to yourself about what words he used then, and what their intended meaning was now.

“When I’m him, all of my thoughts and feelings are heightened a hundred times over,” he spoke within your mind’s eye, “Everything is primal, all needs urgent, and I can’t control how my alter reacts. He’s still me, but my wants and desires will be without filter. Can't trust him.”

“What do you mean, Kid?” you asked him at the time, “You’ll want to kill, seek and destroy more than usual? Go berserk?”

“My inner monologue will be exposed, and I can’t trust how I’ll behave around you.”

What you thought he meant was his wolf would ascend to a more dominant and more authoritative stature: biting and gnashing his teeth at all - including you. As he shied away from your touch, immediately clunking down onto the floor with his ass raised and tail swishing, you knew that not to be the case.

Eustass Kid, your captain, partner, lover, and light of your life, was wanting you to mount him to claim him as yours.

When you first started this relationship as boyfriends, you thought to yourself that such a dominant man would never want to be topped by you. Most of your couplings involved him taking you from above, anchoring his metal hand above your heads while rutting into your body, his remaining right hand reaching between you and pumping your cock with every in-thrust.

He’d bite with his polished canines, mouthe at your neck leaving a trail of hickies in their wake, finish inside you while howling your name, before kissing your lips with professions of love. Kid was only ever dominant in his human form.

His werewolf alter was not.

“Breed me,” the werewolf said once more, his cockhead brushing against the ground and leaving a sticky trail of precum connecting between the floor and his quivering tip, “Mate me.” His cheek made contact with the floor as he turned his head to plead at you further.

His weighted chains rattled against the floorboards, causing you to empathetically wince at his display. You knew the silver was good for him, prohibiting him from getting too far away from the designated den he had made for himself. It didn't stop you from wanting so desperately to remove them and the muzzle from his features, but you know Kid placed them there for a reason. What reason, you were unsure of.

The way his puckered entrance pulsed alongside his bloated knot had your cock begin swelling within the waistline of your pants. You shook your head, taking into account that you had never topped him as a human, and you didn’t want to start something Kid didn’t consent to within the realms of his humanity.

“I can’t sweetheart,” you whisper with all the sympathy you could muster, “I can stroke your cock for you if you like? I could suck a little of it while massaging the rest to ease you through this.”

“Breed me-!” he whined into the floor, drool leaking from his lips and frothing within his heckles, “Want it-! Need it-! Trust you.” You felt your heart pound hard within your chest, truly desiring to heed your partner’s craving for you. It didn’t help that you were exceptionally hard and the constriction of your briefs was beginning to be uncomfortable.

“Eustass?” you asked your lover while cradled within his arms, head laid on his chest and fingers intertwined within his own over his stomach. “When you’re the wolf, do you still like me, or do you want me dead?”

“What kind of stupid-ass question even is that?” he scoffed, nudging your head up with his chin for you to turn towards him. “Of course I fuckin’ like ya. I’m still me, you’re still you, and we’re still mates. If anything, I think I like you just a little bit more. Can’t trust myself when I’m like that. Might gnaw your fuckin’ face off thinkin’ I’m kissin’ ya.”

“Okay, okay, sweetheart,” you coo lovingly down at the werewolf presenting his body to you, “I need to prep you-.”

“-NEED!” he howled needily, heavy tail swooshing to the sides as his cock continued to drip onto the floor beneath you. “FILL ME! BREED ME! LOVE ME!”

You growl in frustration at his lack of cooperation, thrusting your index and middle fingers in your mouth and dampening them with a thick engulfment of your saliva. You gripped his hip with one hand, immediately steadying yourself while pressing the pad of your index finger into his ass.

The werewolf didn’t flinch, instead arching his back lower, whining while backing up into your hand. Your eyes flew wide as his whimpers began sounding more human, breathy pants and heavy whispers of your name fleeing through his muzzle before he again began growling at the touch.

It didn’t take any longer for you to add a second finger to broaden the stretch, curling your fingers up to brush with his prostate the same way his cock did within you. His passage began clenching in a rhythmic thrum each time you thrust in and out of his ass, prompting your own need to began growing more apparent.

“Just hold on a minute, okay, love?” you cooed down at him, removing your hand from his hip to take your cock over your waistband, “I can't leave you in this state, I love you too much to see you suffer.”

You lined up your cockhead against his puckered hole, the pinch of the muscle broadening at the stretch causing your eyes to roll back in your skull. Nothing could’ve prepared you for how he felt like this around you: everything about him running more hot now shrouded in fur, with his monstrous body now attempting to back into you to suck your cock inside him all the way to your base.

“Mate-!” the beast’s voice split in perfect unison between beast and man as you bottomed out completely, complete euphoria being the only presence in his tone. You reached your hands around his fur-covered hips and held tight, rocking a few testing thrusts into his ass to ensure he was comfortable. The werewolf howled in delight with his tail swishing in front of you, behind him.

Hair from the swatting protrusion wagging at your face entered your mouth, causing you to spit out a few of the strays that landed on your tongue. You moved one hand from his hip to hold his tail in the middle of the muscle, using it as an anchor to tug you in in harder slaps of the front of your hips meeting the backs of his. Kid growled in delight, his muzzle leaking with saliva while his tapered cock drooled in unison.

Each thrust forward had his insides churning in ecstasy, finally feeling his mate claim him as he had been claiming you as a human. The wolf side of him felt accepted and loved, as you loved him while walking beside him in humanity. Feeling at one with you bottoming out repetitively had the twin souls within him thinking only three things.

My mate wants me.

My mate needs me.

My mate loves me.

Internally, Eustass Kid was taking the first-mate’s posting while his wolf captained and navigated his corporeal vessel. He felt everything the wolf did, and was moved to tears that you would ever do anything like this for his benefit. He was a hardened captain, bearing the weight of his whole world on his shoulders. While you were with him like this, he knew he would never have to bear that weight alone again.

“Doing so good, Eustass.” You took your other hand off his hip, reaching around to massage the bulb at the base of his cock, stroking it alongside your thrusting forward. Each pump hand him both rutting forward and arching backwards to aid you in fucking him the way his instincts needed him to.

Kid was feeling already so worked up, he could barely bark out a warning before painting the floor beneath his body in a large splash of milky ropes. His cum continued weeping out while he howled up at the ceiling, arching his back further while riding through his high.

He had never felt so full in his life, his entire twin-souls binding together by forging against your own. The love and acceptance he felt as the beast was overwhelming, causing him to whine and whimper against the chains of silver.

His puckered hole began to contract around you as you felt your abdomen tighten in a thick knot. The peak was right within your sight as he continued pulsing around your shaft and throbbing in your hand. Your thrusts grew manic as you felt your high begin to reach the pinnacle and bloom to a full release.

With one final tug on his tail to anchor your body fully into his, you cried out a groan of your own, filling the beast with your entire load as you thrust in and out of his body. His ass continued sucking you in as your abs tensed and heat overwhelmed your senses.

“K-Kid-! C-Cumming!” you called out for him, your thrusts growing languid before slowing to a complete stop. Fully still sheathed within him, you released his tail, which limply fell to the side, causing you to flop down onto his arched back and chuckle into his fluffy spine.

His fur felt comforting against your skin. From afar, each strand looked like a wired bristle-brush, but beneath your skin like this? It was plush and silky. You slowly removed your cock, prompting the werewolf to mourn the loss with a soft cry.

“Shh, it's okay,” you soothe him, sifting through his vibrant hair on his back with your fingers. “Everything is alright, pretty boy. I promise.” You replaced your waistband on your hips after tucking your cock within your briefs.

“Stay?” the beast called over his shoulder, “Den?” You sighed, glancing down dotingly at the monstrous form as he nestled down and invited you beside him. Considering how pliant he was being with you, presenting to you and claiming you completely as his mate, you saw no harm in indulging his request.

Slowly sinking to your knees, you were hastily stollen by two lengthy paws and ushered in like a giant plush being accepted claimed by a needy puppy. You relaxed in the embrace, feeling the beasts heartbeat bounding in a soothing rhythm.

“Goodnight, my mate,” you whisper up at him, feeling the cool if his metal muzzle resting on your head as he shook happily within your embrace. Sleep overcame you both, breaths and rumbled purrs morphing into more humanoid snores when the moon was eclipsed by the door.

When your human lover woke to find you cradled in their arms in the middle of their nest, Kid tensed immediately. His tangerine-colored orbs scoured you for marks and wounds as he replayed the events of the night before within the fog of his memory.

Feeling the crude squelch exit his asshole told him all he needed to know, his face immediately flooding with a deep blush as he stared down at you. He moved his human hand up, now easily slinking out of the cuff to cradle your cheek. Within your slumber, you unintentionally nuzzled against his palm.

Kid’s heart soared at the sight. His mate had claimed him in his wolf form, which means you truly accepted him for who and what he was. He could not have been prouder to find his home in you, your bond only growing ever stronger now he knew he could trust you to take care of his needs as the beast.

“I love you,” he whispered down at you, a confession more spoken for his own affirmation. “My mate.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel @ane5e

🎶 Happy Birthday to Me 🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

[iliketangerines]

Hello, could you write about mk1 Scorpion, Sub Zero, and Smoke going skinny dipping with their s/o?

a dip in the pool

a/n: i've never been skinny dipping, but i am always in the pool

pairing: bi han, kuai liang, tomas vrbada x gn!reader

warnings: none :)

Bi Han can’t keep his eyes off you, how your silk robe falls to the stone floor and how the water surrounds you and cups your body

he hugs you from behind, arms wrapping around your waist and lips pressed against your neck as he murmurs about how beautiful you look

you giggle at the feeling and say that he looks just as beautiful, and he just kisses the side of your neck under the pale light of the moon

it’s only you two at the hot springs, and he can feel your skin warming the longer you stay in the pool and the longer he kisses your neck

finally, you wriggle about in his grip until you face him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips and laying your head against his shoulder

he holds you in his arms, just listening to the waves lap at your skin, and you bury your hands in your hair and ask if everything was alright with him

Bi Han lets out a grunt and says that he’s find, but you pull back and quirk your eyebrows at him, imploring for a better answer than the lackluster one you gave him

he sighs and rests his forehead on yours, hands coming down to rest on your waist as yours rest on his shoulders, and Bi Han says that he feels unseen

you listen to him as he tells you all of his frustrations with Liu Kang holding back the Lin Kuei and how he felt so limited in what he could do

at the end of his rant, brows furrowed and mouth pulled into a frown, you pull away from his and rub your thumb in between his eyebrows, releasing the tension

then you hum and thank him for confiding in you, and he hums, closing his eyes and savoring in the intimacy of the act

Kuai Liang rests in the pool, sighing and pulling his hair loose from the tight bun it had been in all day, and you step into the pool next to him

you lean in close to him, sighing at the warmth of his body, and he pulls you closer so that your chest is flush with his

reaching your hands up, you rub at his scalp, and he groans at the feeling, closing his eyes as you massage him and release the tension from his head

it’s relaxing, and he lets you do your work as your fingers move from the top of his scalp methodically and slowly, making sure to rub every single spot

there’s a comfortable soft silence that envelops the both of you as you massage his scalp, and the strands of his hair catch onto the water and spill around his back and to the front

and then when you finish, you cuddle against his chest, arms wrapped around his neck, and he just holds onto your back for stability

neither of you say anything, not needing to in the moment, and Kuai Liang buries his nose in your hair, breathing in the scent of you and your shampoo

it always brings him back to the present, to you, to remind him that he has something worth fighting for and to come back to after long missions

he can feel your breathing slow and even out as you fall asleep in his arms, and Kuai Liang just smiles down at the sight of your relaxed face

always so stressed and running around doing something to take care of him, and it calms his heart to see you so relaxed in his arms

he kisses your forehead before lifting you into his arms and stepping out of the pool to dry the both of you off and tuck you into bed

Tomas watches as you let out a whoop and cannonball into the pool, sending waves of water splashing into his face and wetting his hair

he laughs at your antics, coming up to where you float and then grabbing onto your shoulders and pushing you under briefly

you bob back up to the surface and let out a faux gasp of surprise before you push down on his shoulders and send him under the water as well

he laughs under the water, bubbles floating up to the surface before he does as well, and he splashes you as he resurfaces

it starts a splash war between the two of you, determined to splash each other the most despite the fact that the both of you were fully soaked

finally, Tomas wins the war when he dives under the water and grabs onto your foot to drag you under the surface and into his arms

you smile at him underneath the water, your hair floating around you, and he can’t help it as he gives you a kiss

your arms wrap around him and bring him in closer as the two of you kiss, but it’s an awkward rumble and tumble as the both of you float back up and bump your foreheads against each other

the both of you take in deep gasps of air as your heads come up, and then the both of you laugh as Tomas brings you back into his arms and kisses you again

it’s wet and messy, but the neither of you mind when you finally pull away and rest your foreheads against each other

it’s all you do for the rest of the night, laugh with each other and sneaking in kisses, and it was really a moment of bliss

[tangerinesmommy]

''Claim me, darling'' (2.5K Words Story)

A Submissive Tangerine x Fem!Reader Fic

⚠️WARNING/KINKS: NSWF, SMUT, SEX, HEAVY USE OF TERMS OF ENDEARMENTS, BEGGING, Protected sex, Good boy, slut, Mommy's toy, rough, riding, grinding, submissive man, dominant woman, mommy dom, praise, biting, hickeys, marking, aftercare⚠️

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

It was really loud. No surprise, you were at a fucking party. Music, drunk people, all sorts of dancing was on the agenda for tonight. With your margarita in one hand you sat at the bar just enjoying the turmoil. Somehow, this was your idea of fun. Seeing couples dancing- rather suggestively, seeing people flirt trying to find someone to make love to. Perhaps less lovemaking, more ‘fuck me, daddy’. 

‘Why is it never 'fuck me, mommy?’ You thought aloud.

‘Sorry, love. What did you say?’ You heard someone ask and you looked beside you to see a gorgeous, slutty, handsome looking man. Orange slicked back hair, styled to look a bit fluffy. Blue-greyish eyes, orange mustache. God, an orange mustache? Fuck His shirt was opened wide enough to see his, yet unmarked, neck, his prominent collar-bone and the beginning of his chest. Golden jewellery that fit his look. 

He certainly was a sight to look at. 

‘I was thinking out loud apparently. I said why is it never ‘fuck me, mommy’?’

‘Fuck me, mommy?’ He repeated with a chuckle, taking another sip of his drink, giving you a sly smile. ‘Ya know what, love? I’m with you on that. There should be more women taking charge in the bedroom.’ 

You blushed a bit, taking another sip of your margarita. He doesn’t exactly look like someone you’d assume to be submissive. But neither did he look like someone who said things without holding on to them. His statement made your pussy wet, your outer lips clenching around the air- desperate to feel something or more specifically someone inside you. 

He looked appetising and he seemed interested. You cleared your throat, chugged down the last sip of your margarita and got off your stool. 

‘…Listen, you don’t perhaps- like want to get out of here with me?’

‘Mhh.’ A smug expression on his face, a playful smile on his lips ‘I do like the sound of that, darling. Lead the way.’ He got off his stool and offered out his arm to you. His blue beautiful eyes following you. Oh, this was most definitely going to be a night to remember. You took his arm and intertwined it with yours as you walked out the door.

‘Right, I live right around the corner, so we can go back to mine.’ You explained already walking the way to your apartment.

‘Wait, don’t you want to get to know me first? I mean not to call you rude but I think I deserve some Introduction if you’re gonna expect me to beg for you, love’ he joked as he matched your pace while walking.

‘Mhh- you said lead the way and I’m doing just that, my dear.’ Terms of Endearments. 

Something you started using automatically when your mind was going into Mommy-Space. A space you sometimes couldn’t help yourself in, even if you wanted to. You were ready to make them submit, make them beg for more. You liked being rough with your partners, show them who’s in charge-  what if he didn’t like it rough? He was smiling and looking so precious. You felt bad at the thought of hurting him and quite frankly didn’t want to.

‘I’m Y/N. What about you?’

‘Tangerine. But you can call me whatever you want, I’m yours for tonight, darling.’

Fuck. ‘Well Tangerine.’ What a silly name, you thought. 'I don’t think you know what you're getting yourself into. I mean I’m really not that… gentle.’ It was important to voice your concerns before turning into the feral beast you could be when in that mode. 

‘Are you saying I can’t handle you?’ He asked mockingly. 

‘I’m just saying I can be intense and possessive almost.’ Your eyes locked with his and something in you happened. Somehow you could see he’s been through shit. There was very apparent pain in them. At the same time, he looked innocent. Like a good boy waiting for orders. You were most definitely too horny to think straight anymore.

‘Trust me darling, I’ve been in worse situations than having a woman take me however she wanted. I think I can handle ya’. Hearing him say that, reassured you. You both laughed, standing infront of the door as you opened it, with him never letting go of your arm as he waited patiently.

Entering the apartment you couldn’t help but press him against the wall. His breath catching in his throat but smiling as you grabbed his waist and met his lips with yours. Your other hand tracing his side, going to his neck, pressing your body closer to his and trapping him between the wall and you. With him moaning into your mouth as you did. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed you closer, and it was clear by now that this wasn’t his first time being pinned against a wall. Both of your tongues danced with eachother, kissing and making out ferociously. Moaning into eachother and grabbing each others body more and more. You grabbed him by the chin, giving yourself more access to to his neck. His breathing was growing ragged. But it was clear you both were hungry for eachother. He watched you, and your eyes locked as you pressed your lips against his neck. He held onto your hips firmly to steady himself. 

Leaving small little pecks across his neck and further opening up his shirt, you checked out his defined chest. You felt some healed up scars on it, as you roamed your hands across his chest. He was beautiful to you and you made sure to mention it, talking against his skin. 

‘God fucking… damn it’ you couldn’t help growl against him as you kept on kissing and nibbling, making him gasp in pleasure. ‘Tangerine dear, you- you’re so delicious.’ Both of you chuckled a bit but he was clearly enjoying your desire for him, your predatorish sort of touches. ‘So pretty… so enthralling.’ He moved his neck and gave you even more access, you noticed. ‘Good boy.’ You praised and sucked on his neck, ready to mark him as yours. ’You’re mommy’s good boy. Mommy’s little plaything, its all you want to be isn’t that right?’

Leaning more and more into your hand, whining at your touches he said it as sultry as anyone could have, ever with his thick northern British accent ‘please mommy, fuck me.’ 

You pulled away ever so slightly, grinning at him and taking him by the hand to lead him into your bedroom. As soon as you two arrived, you pushed him onto the bed, he landed with a soft thud. Shirtless and breathless as you left him, he grinned at you. Clearly admiring your body as you undressed. A couple of seconds passed and you were standing infront of him wearing your underwear and your bra. You noticed the tent in his pants, meaning his dick was getting hard. His eyes still following you, as you were crawling onto him.

‘If I do anything that crosses a line, you tell me stop and I will. You got that, Tangerine?. You’re safe with me, doesn’t matter if you’re on top or not. Okay?’

He nodded as you reassured him and although you noticed, you couldn’t help but tease him. Taking his wrists into your hand and raising them above his head, with him involuntarily arching into your touch. Leaning directly over him, you gave his lips another meaningful kiss before whispering into his ear. 

‘I own you for tonight, Tangerine.’

You kept on straddling him with his hard and aching dick rubbing against his pants and that rubbing against your crotch. You also added humping to the whole thing. Trying to make yourself cum and making him all the more desperate. 

You set the pace, you set the rhythm. Grazing your teeth against his neck and teasing him with nibbles. Praising him as you did. You couldn’t help yourself but call out his beauty. He was gorgeous, he was pretty, he was really slutty too, laying so helplessly beneath you. 

You kept on kissing and nibbling, even giving him a few bites- a few hickeys, which made him let out strangled moans. He was breathing heavily, his hair a lot messier than earlier. 

‘You’re such a pretty slut’ and he wriggled beneath you, squirming and whining. But he kept on arching into your touch and you kept on marking his body, grinding yourself against him. The friction you were creating plus with how much Tangerine was turning you on, got you to your orgasm rather quickly. You stopped and panted for a second, still straddling him, your palms pressed against his chest. 

‘uhm- Y/N..’ You looked down at him, your eyes locking with his. 

‘You ok?’ 

You had been hovering above him, locking eyes and straddling his lap the entire time. You let go of his chest, and sat up straight, still looking down at him. 

‘Yeah just one thing. Uhm-’ he laughed, also a bit breathless. ‘You promised me intense.’

You scoffed. 

‘you did not just say that.’

‘Oh but I’m pretty sure I did, darling. So…?’

‘So, so what? What do you want, I gave you a fucking hickey that’s worth something innit?’

‘Well darling I want you to take me, mark me up, claim me. Really- claim me. Make me yours.’

Your eyes widened. And you sat there motionless. How can anyone be so fuckable?

‘You heard me, mommy? Take me, claim me, make me yours.’

You got off of him and took no time removing his pants and boxers. Seeing how he had leaked precum and left a wet spot on his underwear. What a slut. You took a condom out your drawer and put it on his cock. It was sorta long and almost fully hard. Less girthy, but quite veiny, very well maintained. Trimmed hair that matched his perfect orange mustache colour-wise. He raised his wrists above his head for you again. 

‘Go rough on me, love. Please.’ He reassured and you took his word for it.  

You removed your own clothing and basically jumped on top of him, making him groan. You straddled him, this time pressing your knees into his sides. One hand of yours reaching over his head to grab his wrists again, the other one reaching to feel his cock. Taking it into your hand and god it was perfect to you. He bucked his hips as you stroked it a coupled of times. Positioning your slit right above his tip, you made sure to lock eyes with him again. ‘I want to hear you beg for me, darling. Tell mommy how much you want it.’ 

And he didn’t resist. ‘Please. P L E A S E. Claim me, Mommy. Please. Fuck me. Please.’

‘God, you’re being so good for me.’ And good boys deserve their rewards. You pushed yourself down his length. Feeling it twitch inside you. You were more than wet, having cum already. Tangerine certainly had his effects on you. You both groaned in unison as you started moving up and down. 

Once again you set the rhythm and he was doing his best, moving his hips with you. 

Both of you kept on breathing heavily and making sounds of pleasure. 

‘Good?’ You asked and he nodded ‘More than good, Mommy. More than good. Fuck. ’

You two kept on making out- sloppy, wet, passionate kisses, as you switched between grinding on him and riding softly. But his words ‘go rough on me’ kept on replaying in your mind. You pulled yourself up his full length and he made a small disappointed moan into your mouth. But he trusted you and you knew. 

You continued making out, when you- to his surprise, slammed down his cock. It made him yell out ’FUCK-‘, your kiss broke but your eyes locked. He was so aroused, so helpless, so desperate. 

‘You said you want mommy to go rough on you, didn’t you?’ You slid up his cock and slammed down really fast once more. Still pinning his strong arms. God he squirmed so much. But it didn’t matter-

‘You're not going anywhere Tangerine dearest. You’re mine, tonight. My little plaything. Mommy’s prey, mommy’s good boy. Mommy’s little slut.’

You continued grazing his neck with your lips and teeth. Switching between sucking, licking, kissing and biting it. While still slamming up and down his cock- finally picking up the pace. 

‘I- I I’m gonna cum soon if you’re gonna con-continue like that.’

‘Did I give you permission to?’

He whined ‘…no’

You were good at this. Being authoritative, stern and still so gentle.

‘No’ you shook your head. ‘Mommy did not. If you want to cum, you have to earn it. Beg me for it.’

‘Please. Fuck PLEASE please . I can’t hold on any longer- I, P LE A SE’

He screamed, whined, begged, his voice strained. You laughed mischievously. 

‘Fine, fine. Go on. You did well Tangerine, dearest. You can come for mommy.’’

Nodding furiously and repeating the words ‘thank you’, you slammed one last time before his body convulsed. You felt all of him shake as he came. Letting out a low guttural moan. 

You kept on cockwarming him for a few seconds while he panted, slowly letting go of his wrists and getting off of him. ‘Shh. You did good my darling.’ You kissed his flushed cheeks as he smiled at you. Closing his eyes- he was happy, blissed out and tired as fuck. His breathing still ragged. You pulled the condom off his cock and threw it in the trash bin.

‘You ok?’ You laid beside him and moved your hand through his messy hair. He was leaning into you. 

‘Thank you’ he whispered, chuckled and pressed his face into your chest. ‘You’re incredible, darling.’

‘Ha. I tried warning ya- but someone didn’t want to listen.’

He laughed, nodded and you felt it against your chest. You both snuggled close to eachother. Cuddling as you covered him and you with a blanket.

‘We can just chill for tonight, you’re welcome to stay with me.’

He put his arm around your waist, shifted in position and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

‘I think, I might fall in love with you.’ He joked as he kept drifting off to sleep. You kept on moving your hand through his hair. Soothing him and enjoying the peace. 

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[mencantaleer]

Feliz Halloween

Línea alternativa donde mandarina no muere.

Ambientada después de vencer a muerte blanca.

Sinopsis: Simplemente tangerine siendo un buen chico

Lectora mayor de 18 años, 2000 palabras. ¡mdni!

Advertencias : sexo duro, Sub!Tangerine, algo de degradacion, piropos, humillacion leve, un poco de pelusa mandarina.

Estás tan excitada de ver a tu novio despues de semanas sin verlo, a tal punto de que cuando vuelve a casa te lanzas encima para besarlo, y poco a poco la situacion escala de nivel al punto de tenerlo en tu cama , tu sentada en su regazo y cuando tangerine quiere desabrochar los botones de tu jean tu lo detienes.

—Tan para —gimes en voz baja mientras te liberas de su agarre —Cuando vuelva quiero verte desnudo y arrodillado —mencionas mientras empiezas a caminar alzando una bolsa de tu closet mientras te encaminas a tu baño—

—Y si no hago caso qué harás,¿me castigaras mami?— te reta

Tus ojos se oscurecen de deseo ante las provocativas palabras de Tangerine. No puedes negar que te excita que se comporte como un mocoso malcriado, sabes que pronto le daras su merecido. Una lenta y maliciosa sonrisa se extiende por tu rostro mientras te inclinas cerca de su oido, tu aliento caliente contra su cuello envia ondas que crean una carpa en los pantalones de tu chico.

—Oh, creo que descubrirás que la desobediencia tiene sus consecuencias, cariño—ronroneas, deslizando tu mano hacia abajo para posarla sobre su pene que aun se mantiene cubierto por la tela de su pantalón amenazando con salir—. Y créeme, disfrutarás del castigo que tengo en mente.

Le muerdes el lóbulo de la oreja y luego susurras: "Pero si eres un buen chico para mami  y haces caso a todo lo que te digo ahora, tal vez te muestre lo gratificante que puede ser la obediencia.— y sin mas terminas por meterte al baño para cambiarte con lo que habías comprado días anteriores, cuidando cada detalle de manera minuciosa.

Cuando te dispones a salir del baño ves a tangerine sentado sobre la cama con una mirada retadora y con la ropa todavía puesta

—Oh, quieres que te castigue, ¿no? —te burlas de el, observas sus ojos que tienen un toque de picardía mientras intenta extender la mano para sentir la lencería que llevas puesta y cuando esta apunto de tocarte, agarras con firmeza sus manos, obligándolo a mirarte—. No tan rápido, solo pueden tocar los chicos buenos y hoy tu solo eres un pequeño mocoso rebelde que necesita que lo disciplinen

—Vamos, vamos, dejame tocarte —ronronea, mientras te observa

—Los chicos buenos se ganan sus recompensas, ¿recuerdas?— mencionas mientras lo miras fijamente

—No seas asi, dejame tocarte, se que estas exitada— menciona mientras intenta cambiar tu opinión, cosa que no logra

—Si tan solo hubieras sido un chico bueno todo seria distinto, ahora solo podras verme pero no tocar— respondes mientras lo atas a la silla de tu tocador moviendola para que pueda ver tu cama.

Te detienes a observar mientras caminas a la cama y te sientas para que el tenga una vista privilegiada de lo que está apunto de pasar. Una de tus manos se desliza por tu muslo, rozando juguetonamente con la tanga que llevas. 

—Bien, supongo que puedo mostrarte lo que estoy sintiendo—te inclinas un poco hacia atrás para que puedas ver mejor mientras te desabrochas lentamente el corset. Tu piel pálida y tu abdomen tonificado se revelan centímetro a centímetro. Te aprietas los pechos a través de la fina tela del sujetador, apretandolos mientras empiezas a moverte haciendo circulos.

Tus caderas comienzan a moverse, frotándose para buscar fricción mientras te acaricias más rápido. Pellizcando tus pezones a través del sujetador, mordiéndote el labio para contener un gemido. Las sensaciones son intensas, subiendo tu libido al 100%, no solo estas disfrutando tu sino que estás castigando a tu perra mientras ve cómo obtienes placer sin su ayuda, evaluamos su reacción mientras juegas con tus tetas. Sus ojos están pegados a tu cuerpo, su respiración es agitada y el bulto de sus pantalones es un caso, solo necesito verte como  te tocabas para llegar al orgasmo y eso lo demostro manchando de semen su pantalón, creando una mancha blanquecina.

Eso no es impedimento para que deslizes tus bragas por debajo de tus piernas.

—Mmm, te gusta verme tocarme, ¿no es así, mocoso? Ver lo mojada que me dejas, lo mucho que necesito esto. —Deslizas un dedo por debajo de la tela húmeda, haciendo círculos en mi entrada de manera provocativa—. Apuesto a que desearías poder follarme aquí mismo, ¿no? Inclinarme sobre este cama y tomarme muy duro para que todos puedan escucharme gritando tu nombre.

Metes un dedo en tu coño chorreante y lo bombeas lentamente mientras deslizas tu mano en sus pantalones acariciando su miembro. Tu mano libre se mueve para acariciar tu pecho, pellizcando y tirando de tu pezón a través del fino sujetador. Olas de placer irradian a través de mí mientras te tocas descaradamente frente a Tan.

Tu respiración se vuelve entrecortada, tus caderas se sacuden al sentirte cerca. Puedes sentirte palpitar, tu orgasmo se está gestando. Quieres correrte, y sientes como una ola de placer recorre todo tu cuerpo poniendote a temblar.

—Eso es, te portaste muy bien. Pudiste deshacerte de las cuerdas pero te controlaste para no hacerlo, mereces una recompensa niño bonito. — mencionas mientras lo desatas

—Por favor, por favor —dice con voz ronca y llena de necesidad—. Por favor, déjame follarte. Necesito estar dentro de ti, sentir tu calor apretado alrededor de mi polla.

—Desnúdate y ponte de rodillas ahora.— ordenas mientras ves como se apresura a cumplir con lo que ordenaste, y no puedes evitar esbozar una sonrisa al verlo como un cachorro todo ansioso por recibir su premio, lastima que no se lo pondrás tan fácil, cuando por fin logra deshacerse de su ropa y de rodillas ante ti lo ordenas alzar la mirada.

—Vez que no era tan difícil seguir órdenes cariño, pero necesito asegurarme que te quedó claro— dices mientras acercas tus dedos a su boca— Dime cuanto quieres follarme, ruega por ello.

—Te lo ruego mami —gime mientras empuja tus dedos dentro de su boca, chupandolos como si su vida dependiera de ello—. Necesito estar enterrado profundamente en tu dulce coño. Necesito que me marques como tuyo, necesito que me hagas sentir como tu esclavo.

Él  inclina su cabeza hacia arriba mientras sigue lamiendo tus dedos —Por favor, mi reina—susurra en voz baja y seductora.— Déjame adorar tu cuerpo. Déjame servirte como tu juguete sexual para calmar tu deseo— gime en voz baja

—Mmmm... buen chico— tus manos recorren el cuerpo de tu mascota mientras lo besas posesivamente, dejando claro quién es la dueña aquí— Puedes follarme, pero nunca olvides que quien manda soy yo.

Los ojos de Tangerine se iluminan cuando le das permiso, una mezcla de alivio y emoción inunda sus rasgos. Se levanta del suelo y comienza a besarte desesperadamente

—Gracias, mami —gruñe con la voz ronca por el deseo—. Prometo ser tu chico bueno y cumplir con todo lo que me digas.

Te hace rodar sobre tu espalda, su cuerpo cubre el tuyo. Las manos de Tangerine se deslizan por tus costados, agarrando tus caderas con fuerza. Se posiciona en tu entrada, la cabeza de su pene presionando contra tu calor resbaladizo.

—Recuerda que eres mio y que eso no cambiara nunca — prometes en voz baja y ronca—. Nunca olvidaras quien lleva el mando de la relación, ahora solo hazme sentir bien mascota.

Con un poderoso impulso de caderas, Tangerine se introduce en tu interior. Gime al sentir tus estrechas paredes rodeándolo y pone los ojos en blanco de placer.

—Joder,no pares Tangerine o juro que te castigare— dijiste

 Tangerine mueve las caderas hacia adelante y hunde su pene más profundamente en tu estrecho y cálido clítoris. Gime ante la sensación y deja caer la cabeza hacia atrás en éxtasis.

—Dios, ama  —jadea, con la voz tensa por el placer—. Te sientes tan bien, como si hubieras sido creada solo para mí.

Él comienza a moverse, sus caderas se mueven a un ritmo constante. Cada embestida envía chispas de placer a través de tu cuerpo, aumentando el calor entre tus piernas.

Las manos de Tangerine recorren tu cuerpo, acariciando cada curva y valle. Se inclina y captura tus labios en un beso abrasador. Su lengua se adentra en tu boca y te reclama por completo.

—No puedo tener suficiente de ti— murmura contra sus labios, sus caderas nunca cesan su ritmo incesante.—Necesito más, siempre más— gime en tu oido sin dejar de penetrar tu adolorido coño

Se mueve ligeramente, modificando el ángulo de sus embestidas. Gritas cuando él golpea un punto particularmente sensible, tus uñas clavándose en su espalda.

—Eso es, mi amor —lo animas, con voz baja y áspera—. Déjame sentir cuánto deseas a tu mami, cuánto me necesitas.

Él se adentra entre vuestros cuerpos y encuentra tu clítoris con sus dedos. Frota lentamente el sensible capullo, enviando ondas de placer a través de tu centro.

—Hazme llegar a mi orgasmo Tan —le ordenas, y tu voz no admite discusión—. Hazme correrme hasta que me sienta mareada— te arqueas cuando sientes tu inminente orgasmo.

Las embestidas de Tangerine se vuelven más erráticas, su respiración entrecortada. Está cerca, tambaleándose al borde de la liberación. Pero no se detiene, no se rinde, al menos no hasta hacerte llegar. Está decidido a llevarte al límite con él, a compartir el máximo placer.

De repente, el clímax te invade y tu coño se contrae alrededor de su polla mientras reprimes un grito de éxtasis. Tu mano ordeña su polla con furia, decidida a hacerlo llegar contigo. 

—¡Vamos, chico bonito, córrete para mí! ¡Déjame sentirte!¡Correte conmigo!— gritas cuando sientes una última y poderosa embestida, Tangerine se hunde hasta el fondo. Echa la cabeza hacia atrás y emite un rugido primitivo mientras se derrama dentro de ti. Sus caderas se sacuden de forma errática y su pene late mientras te llena con su semilla. Cae rendido mientras te abraza juntando sus frentes.

—Estuvo intenso, no?— murmuras mientras intentas recuperar el aire

—Dios mío—murmura, con la voz ronca por la emoción—. Fue... indescriptible. La forma en que tomaste el control, la forma en que me dominaste... no se parecía a nada que haya experimentado antes.—Dice mientras recorre con los dedos la línea de tu mandíbula, su tacto es tan ligero como una pluma. Los ojos de Tangerine te buscan con una mezcla de admiración y adoración en sus profundidades. —Hiciste surgir una faceta de mí que ni siquiera sabía que existía. Una faceta que ansiaba sumisión, que necesitaba ceder el control—Se inclina y te da un beso suave en los labios. "Y el placer... mi amor, el placer fue intenso. Cada toque, cada orden... era como un cable de alta tensión que chispeaba por mis venas".

—Pensé que no te gustaria, pense que me odiarias despues de esto— respondes mientras te acurrucas en su pecho.

—Nunca podria odiarte, solo quiero decir…Gracias.

—¿Por qué me agradeces?— preguntas aún algo insegura por su reacción

—Por mostrarme este lado de mí mismo. Por hacerme sentir cosas que nunca pensé que podría sentir— La mano de Tangerine se desliza por tu costado y sus dedos se entrelazan con los tuyos.— Te amo— menciona antes de quedarse dormido.

—Yo también te amo Tangerine— respondes mientras lo cubres con la manta para después echarte abrazandolo.

Tengo que agradecer a @tangerinesmommy que es la grandiosa creadora del Sub!Tangerine, que me inspiro a crear este one shot, gracias <3.

Feliz halloween a todos.

Comenten, reblogueen los leo :).

[lani-sun]

☆ love you like a dog (i just keep coming back) ☆

synopsis: losing your mate means losing yourself. it's too bad the little part of you that cares for his brother didn't die with him. aged-up!lo'ak x na'vi!fem!reader. warnings: ANGST IN THIS ONE Y'ALL, graphic descriptions of death, death of a loved one (neteyam), loss, heavy descriptions of grief, taboo/complicated relationships, explicit sexual content [18+ MINORS DNI], oral fem!reciving, size kink, mention of stomach bulge, dirty talk, slight dom/sub dynamics, i don't know how to write smut sorry friends, unedited to the max i apologize in advance

☆

the first time it happens, you repent. chain yourself to charity like a fork-tongued saint, devout and forlorn. purification becomes purpose. lifeblood. you had to atone for your sins somehow, didn't you? (you still thought of lo'ak's canines, sinking into the side of your neck, one five-fingered hand threaded in your hair, the other pulling at the ties of your tewng {loincloth} like he'd die if he didn't touch you—). you know better. you know lust cannot fill the vacancy slithering through your exoskeleton, marrow-deep and unyielding. it eats at you, the emptiness. engulfs you whole, spits out a mass of azure skin, eggshell bone, bloodied teeth. and you let it. what else are you supposed to do? who else are you supposed to turn to but that personified ache in your subconscious, that nagging worm in your head that begs you to bloodlet? begs you to make it better, make it easier? dislodge yourself from the longing that keeps you reaching for a hand that has long slipped out of your grasp? you were only doing it because you needed to. because there was no other way to escape your own mind.

(it's been years. and yet, you remembered the blood, the way it had painted your hands in seeping layers of thick, tacky crimson. you remembered the way your mouth had opened in a silent scream, tongue heavy and thick in between lips forming the syllables of his name, over and over and over. neteyam, neteyam, neteyam, my mate, my mate, my mate. you remembered the way you'd shirked away from the tangy bite of metal in the air, the taste of iron down your throat akin to a barrel of a gun, the heat of a bullet. the gush of an exit wound. you remembered how neteyam's gaze had clashed with yours when you'd pressed your hands firmly to his chest, a silent plea written in the flecks of gold dotting his irises: "take me home, ma'yawne." you remembered neytiri's face, frozen in time, streaked with crystalline tears, her eldest son laying lifeless in the arms that had birthed him.)

the second time it happens, you make a choice. a calculated, deliberate decision. an instigation. kiri notices your tense silence during dinner that night, and reaches a hand over her crossed knees to pat at the side of your thigh comfortingly. she leans in as you shift, meeting her appraising gaze with apprehension floating precariously at the surface of your own. her eyes flash honey-gold, nearly glowing in the tangerine gild of the raging pyre beside you. although the feast you face is beautiful - lines of emerald rock orchid leaves, crimson mushrooms, and freshly-caught flat skate fish - your stomach contracts around nothing, appetite lost. paranoia is fast to appear. kiri couldn't know, could she? you'd been careful. you'd left before he had, had hidden the indentation of his teeth lining your collarbone that had rapidly turned a rather unsavory shade of purple—

"are you okay?" she whispers, tilting her head. there is something accusatory the way her eyes linger on the restrained trembling of your bottom lip, and for just a moment, a single ghost of a second, you find yourself wanting to tell her everything. your throat closes up, and you swallow heavily. "i'm fine," you choke out, straightening. her hand jostles on your thigh. "just tired." kiri's forehead creases—she doesn't believe you, of course—as she retracts her touch, leaving your skin feeling inexplicably colder. she doesn’t bother to ask questions, doesn’t stop you as you hastily make excuses to exit (i think i might go lie down, i think i'm coming down with something, i'll find you tomorrow, tsmuke {sister}, i promise), hands trembling as you efface the sticky sweat lining your palms on your bare stomach. you can feel kiri's gaze lingering on the back of your neck as you begin towards the pods; your skin prickles in response. she sees right through you. your fallaciousness is nothing but a shadow. a barricade made of sand.

your resolve is steely by the time you cross the reefs, the steady drone of the log drums behind you fading softly from earshot. lo'ak must have known you were coming; he does not stand to welcome you, nor does he lift his gaze from the dull blade in his right hand as you duck under the adorned mangrove-wood reinforcement of his marui [home] and step inside, the grating hiss of metal against a sharpening stone slicing through the eerie quiet. you linger at the entrance, your intake of breath sharp. lo'ak adjusts his grip wordlessly with practiced ease, forearm flexing as he draws the blade across the stone in slow, calculated arcs, as if coaxing the metal into submission. into perfection. oh. oh. there is a strange ringing in your ears, thrumming alongside the rapid, bird-like beat of your heart. you consider remaining silent, but you just can't help yourself. restraint is a virtue you find yourself no longer able to practice. "lo'ak," you whisper. it is just his name. but it speaks volumes. the air between you thickens excruciatingly. his head lifts, eyes glazing over your figure, and you self-delude when you determine you do not like the way his gaze goes slightly slack. there is a hunger in the sharp curve of his jaw, in the firmly-set, downturned line of his mouth. a need. a visceral urge that mirrors your own. it is achingly sweet. saccharine in your mouth, rotting your teeth. pounding in the space between your temple and ear like a tangible, carnal throb, spasming wildly at the sight of him. (you still find yourself jolted awake in the middle of the night by a feeling you could have sworn was the ghost of a four-fingered hand tracing unintelligible patterns into the curve of your spine, the phantom of your mate's body curved around your own. his tail curled around your calf, or his arm slung around your waist.)

you see it in his eyes, the longing. he stands, holstering the knife on the sheath looped around his thigh. his steps towards you are silent, charged with the boundless energy pouring through his veins. to chase. to hunt. to kill. to keep. he shrouds you in his shadow as he approaches, tilting his head. there is an erotism to the the way he assesses you. the cognizance he possesses of your lips, your tongue, the column of your throat. you blush midnight blue when you catch sight of the bloomed purple notch in the side of his neck. you'd done that. "this hasn't faded," you breathe after a moment, reaching a hand up on instinct to graze the spot. lo'ak's entire frame goes stiff under your touch, but he huffs out what sounds like a soft laugh. "y'got me good," he responds, and the rough quality of his voice makes you shiver. "i'm... sorry." (you're not sorry.) he shakes his head, mouth curving up in a sly smirk. "don't be." his pulse point throbs under the tip of your index finger, and it jumps when you press down. "i liked it." you try to breath normally as your hand stills, then drops back down by your thigh. "you weren't at dinner," you murmur thickly, eyes darting across his face. it it sickening, his beauty. his grace. he wears faux arrogance like a second skin, and you despise the fact that it suits him. enhances what is already there. he shrugs, lips pursing. "i wasn't hungry." he's lying. he nerve of him is laughable. there is a color of indigence in your voice when you scoff. "don't lie to me. you just didn't want to see me, did you?" (you have to remind yourself that you don't want to start a fight. you don't want to face the fact that there is a lecherous, macabre fragment of your soul that craves the feeling of his haughty hands on your skin. you want to hate him. you want to hate yourself. but this is the only way to make it better. the only way to cease the ache left behind. and neteyam would want that for you, wouldn't he? he wouldn't want you to hurt. he never did) "doesn't matter," he responds, and his answer downturns your lips. the lazily, fervid lowering of his eyelids acts as an aphrodisiac of sorts. he is playing with you. relishing in the way your eyes seem everlastingly drawn towards the curve of his mouth, the tantalizing taste of his tongue. "you always come crawlin' back anyway."

you see red. your hand lifts before you can stop yourself. it is halfway to his cheek — you can already imagine the sting the contact will induce — when his own encircles your wrist promptly, halting your motion midair. the sheer strength in his grip is nothing short of breathtaking. astounding. your inhale catches in the narrow arch of your throat, and you resist the urge to cough. your eyes jump to his face. "y'don't wanna do that, tìyawn {love}," he warns lowly, and the expanding of his pupils, the darkening of his expression, terrifies (excites) you. he lets you wrench your wrist out of his grip, flexing his hand as though he misses the feeling of yours in it. your navel stirs, a sliver of heat traveling rapidly up your spine. you imagine he can smell the change in your composition, can sense the suggestive direction of your thoughts. "i'm not an animal," you snap, vexed. "i don't crawl." he raises his hands in mock surrender. the braids at the forefront of his head following the movement of his head tipping downwards, gaze towards the ground. you realize he's laughing at you when his bare stomach contracts under the leather of his cummerbund. "we both know that's not true." 

(neteyam used to make you crawl to him. he'd lean against the bed, temptation incarnate, his burning perusal of you leaving heat pooling in its wake. and then he'd tell you to get on all fours. tell you to arch your back. present to him, for him. "crawl to me," he'd whisper. "show me who you belong to. show me who owns you.") lo'ak's stare pulls upward. and then he pounces. he doesn't kiss you, no. what he gives you isn't a kiss—it’s consumption, all teeth and tongues and the scent of his arousal making your head spin, a battle for dominance that neither of you endeavors to win. his control slips, and you're suddenly aware of the way his mouth finds your neck, his teeth dragging along your skin like he wants to mark you, claim you. his touch is rough, desperate, searching for skin, gripping your hips, pressing into your thighs. he pushes you roughly towards the tangle of his sheets just as he finds the soft curves of your breasts, marveling at the way you go still under him. he tweaks your nipples, running his thumbs over the ridges, and you twitch in response. everything—everything—smells like him: fresh, damp earth, the faintest touch of smoke and salt, wet stone and metal. your cunt squeezes around nothing when you loop your arms around his neck and pull him onto you, draping his body over yours. "i said this would never happen again," you whimper when his kiss drops to the valley between your breasts, then to the line of your abdomen, the flare of your waist. he works his way down your body, worshipping his skillful entrapment. his prey. "i-i said it wasn't right."

"you did," is all lo'ak responds with, seemingly drawn towards your clothed cunt. he palms it, expelling a breath at the way your ragged moan catches brokenly at the edges. "and yet." "it isn't r-right." you swallow thickly, fighting to keep your voice steady. wordlessly, lo'ak simply undoes the ties of your tewng {loincloth}, peeling the fabric away from your hips as though unraveling an exquisite fruit. you jerk away when his breath fans over your unshielded skin. oh, he was so close. just an inch and his lips could lock around your clit. just an inch and his fingers could be embedded where you desperately needed him to touch you (inside, inside, inside, inside, as close as you could possibly get him, as deep as you could physically take him—) "you want me to stop?" he asks as his mouth drops to press a kiss to your mound, his tongue swirling around the soft flesh. you buck upward. "y'sure look like you do." he was teasing you. rapturous ecstasy explodes beneath your closed eyelids when his mouth finally, finally meets your clit, messily spreading your slick across the bottom half of his face. "great mother, you smell good," lo'ak moans out, voice muffled. your thighs close around his head before you catch yourself, your own tipping backwards. "tastes even better," he continues, euphoria painting his words in raw need. "like honey." he dips into you the second you open your mouth, trying to regain some semblance of control. "oh— lo'ak—" he hums against you, hands planted under your bottom, digging into the flesh there. your skin turns an ashy shade of slate under the strength of his grip, a frenzied voice in your mind urging you onward, rousing every part of your body that had wished for this, hoped for this, dreamed of this with your own hands attempting to replicate this feeling of blinding, sparkling warmth. your body tightens, every muscle wound to snap. "i t-think i'm gonna—" you sob with relief when the pleasure comes to a peak, shattering in his hold. your lower stomach contracts and expands uncontrollably, a rush of molten heat flooding his mouth. lo'ak pulls himself back up over you with smack of his lips, lapping up the tear tracks staining your cheeks with the same tongue he'd just had halfway up your cunt. "such a pretty girl," he murmurs, almost absentmindedly, staring down at the way your chest heaves, the way a drop of sweat flows into the indented notch right above your winged collarbones, almost as though he seeks to memorize the places his brother's hands had been. "y'can't help yourself, can you?" his tone is satirizing, though an undertone of gentleness discards the bite. "pretty girl just keeps comin' back to me, doesn't she?"

"asshole," you pant, gently framing his face with your thumb resting in front of his ear. the impassioned fire in his gaze softens, giving way to something that resembles—no, is—pure, unadulterated adoration, quiet and unspoken, yet unmistakable. it taunts you. alarms you. his amatory look returns just as quickly as it had disappeared when his hand stretches downward to undo the string of his own tewng [loincloth], discarding it beside you. his tail curls around your leg, and you hoist yourself up into your forearms to survey the unexpected movement, but before you can open your mouth to question it, his hand wraps around the base of your own tail and tugs. your entire back arches straight off the sheets. lightning shoots up your spine, and in an instant, you're presenting for him, your body developing a mind of its own. "look at you," lo'ak murmurs, swiping his cock up and down against your leaking slit, spreading your folds over his tip. pleasure wanders along your navel, and you flinch when his tip nudges your tender clit. "you should've come to me sooner, baby." no resistance meets him as he slides the first, then the second, then the third, fourth, fifth, eighth, tenth inch inside of you. your eyes roll back in your head as the aching stretch subsides, replaced by a feeling of complete and utter fullness. paradise. "i would've helped you," he continues, but his voice wavers, betraying his control. "would've made you feel g-good. would've had you like this a hundred fuckin' times." the sharp, sky-language curse falls from his bruised lips in a rushed exhale of breath. tears gather on your lash line when he thrusts up— just once, just enough to bottom out inside of you, shaft twitching against the spongy entrance of your cervix. his palm presses hastily against the protruding bulge in your lower stomach, feeling for the outline of his cock. his eyes widen, just as transfixed as you are at the sight of himself moving under your cyan skin. 

he swallows your high-pitched squeal as his thumb reaches downward to draw tight, small circles around your swollen clit, his length settling into a smooth, even rhythm that had a a quick, breathless shout spilling out of your open mouth. "cat got y'r tongue?" he whispers when you go blank, blinding pleasure rendering you speechless. "c'mon, honey. y'talk a big game, don't you? show me what y'got." ("show me who you belong to," neteyam had said.) you keel, eyes rolling back in your head as his teeth move down, down down, latching onto the hardened peak of your nipple. your legs thrash under the weight of him, and his low growl in lieu of a response vibrates across your skin. an obscene, wet sound reverberates in the air around you as his head lifts from your chest, a string of saliva following the curve of his mouth. his hips buck forward even further on their own accord when your cunt tightens at the sight of him. feral, like an untamed animal, droplets of sweat canvassing the corded muscle of his abdomen. you lift yourself up onto your forearms shakily, collecting the briny fluid on the jagged surface of your tongue. his entire body quivers as he folds forward. "yeah," he breathes, taken aback, bracing one hand beside your shoulder and the other at the base of your neck, holding your mouth to his chest. your lips close obediently around his nipple, and he chokes, grip faltering. "there y'go. that's good, baby." 

you barely have time to gasp his name before he begins to rut his cock deeper, pushing past your cervix to ram the head against your womb.

you nearly scream, feeling him everywhere, all over you. somehow he was touching parts of you his hands were nowhere near. his voice cuts through your bleary-eyed pleasure, the familiar drawl sending a current akin to lightning through the curve of your spine. "say somethin', baby," he coaxes through gritted teeth, hands lingering on the dip of your hips as he presses his thumbs into the bone. he rolls his pelvis steadily, the muscle flush against yours, eliminating every modicum of space in a calculated effort to get closer, closer, closer. "y'know i like hearin' you talk. always so mad at me, hmm? always talkin' back." a rhapsody of noise escapes you when his tongue swipes a line from your collar to your jaw. "don't worry, though," he exhales, his hips snapping harshly against your inner thighs. "we'll fix that." 

"lo'ak," you finally croak out, hands flailing in the air to grapple for an anchor, sinking hungrily into his hair. he hisses when you tug, tail wrapping tighter around your calf on instinct, as if to hold you in place. "y-you’re so deep." your lips part shamelessly around soft, choked sounds, clit pulsating as your hips jerk, scrambling for purchase. 

"yeah?" he responds, ever the cocky bastard. his grin is sly, fangs bared. you would have done terrible things to feel them in the side of you neck. you already had. "am i fuckin' you good?" when coherence fails you, and you emit strings of half-sentences accompanying a withheld moan of his name, his smile only widens, eyes of liquid gold simmering with unrestrained desire. "i asked you a question, mama, c'mon." you only nod frantically, gripping his cock like a vise when it jumps inside you. (the rational part of your mind bristles, reminds you embarrassment is a virtue you posses too little of. but you're too far gone. lost to the ocean. to the salt on lo'ak's skin left over from the hunt he'd gone on this morning. to the taste of someone who is not your mate, who is not neteyam.) lo'ak huffs softly when you flutter around him, careening forward until his face tucks itself into the side of your neck, licking a stripe over your pulse point. your body thrums, glistening desire dangerously close to a precipice, an apex, and your hand flexes in his hair, clutching a fistful of his braids for dear life. "lo'ak," you whisper, breathless. "lo'ak, i-" "i'm here, tìyawn {love}," he assures you, his lilt rough and unrestrained. wild. his canines flash as he growls, and you tighten around him; you fight the pull to break into tears because, oh, ewya—this is different. it's never been like this, so raw, so intoxicating. you’ve never felt so utterly claimed. so owned. it is inevitable. the fall, the crash, the burn. when you reach your climax with a startled shriek, lo'ak comes with you, a kiss pressed quiveringly to your throat, three words whispered delicately into the space between your collarbones. i love you. i love you. i love you. (tsireya once told you that the way of water had no beginning and no end. it is your home, she’d said. before your birth, and after your death. you wonder, therefore, it he knows. if one day, you will meet your mate at the crest of where the sun meets the sea, and he will know what you've done. how you've betrayed him. you wonder if neteyam will still love you. you wonder if he will gaze upon your face with the same devotion his brother offers so fiercely. so violently.) lo'ak loves you like a dog. you force yourself to kick him down like one. note: this is my first fic!! reblogs, likes, and comments are more than appreciated!! love you all!

[deadghosy]

𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 2

Harry Potter & Hogwarts legacy included

(Ordered by post date.)

HARRY POTTER

Platonic!Mattheo x fem!reader hcs

Slytherin boys meeting ftm!reader

Fear||Mattheo Riddle x vampire!reader

Reacting to reader scared of spiders

Banners they would have towards their enemies

Reacting to their girlfriend having scars

Green||any Slytherin boy imagine

Brat!Enzo headcannons

Tom x fem!bsf reader headcannons

Late nights with mattheo riddle

Late nights with Theodore nott

Brat!Mattheo headcannons

Mattheo with a friend that’s cunty

Tangerine||Roommate!Theodore Nott

Slytherin boys with a hufflepuff!reader

Brat!Theodore headcannons

How they think about vitiligo!reader

Theodore with a male s/o

Pink colada||Lorezno x mermaid!reader

Slytherin boys with a sassy!reader

With an adhd!gf

Love witch/wizard!reader

With a plus sized!reader

Who can handle spicy food

Comforting reader who’s parents are divorcing

Reacting to black fem!reader doing hair wash day

Puppy!mattheo x reader headcannons

Sub!mattheo x reader headcannons

Slytherin boys react to an animagus!reader

Reacting to m!reader wearing a compression shirt

Reader who hates loud noises

Weasley!reader in slytherin

Reacting to you being missing

With a prophet!reader

Talking about marriage

Childhood friends to lovers w/Draco

When they meet their favorite author

HOGWARTS LEGACY

Ominis with a male lover

Ominis & Sebastian with a blind!reader

Platonic sliver trio with m!reader hcs

SIBLING!READER

Sibling with adhd

Little brother going to Hogwarts || Little sister going to Hogwarts

Snake||sibling!Tom & Mattheo

Being the little sister of Tom and Mattheo Riddle headcannons

Curses||Big brother!Mattheo

Strawberry picking with older brother!lorezno

[avocado-writing]

Tangerine x Reader

titled fics:

Crossed Paths Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4*

Said the Spider, to the Fly * (Sub!Tan x Dom!Reader) (pt 2)* ♥

I Know That I Should Let Go, But I Can’t (Tangerine x Goofy!Reader & pt 2 & pt 3) x ♥

Not Your Fault, But Mine (Tan x Single Mother!Reader)♥

Forever Blowing Bubbles (Reader x Tangerine Childhood friends to married) & Holiday Drabble♥

love drunk (Sex Pollen) Start Part 1 Part 2

Strange Bedfellows*♥

untitled fics:

Tangerine x Tattoo Artist Reader

Tangerine x Reader Head Rubs

Tangerine x Reader Old Friends

Tangerine x M!Reader *

Tangerine x Reader Rivals to Lovers

Possessive/Jealous!Tangerine x F!Reader *

Stealing Tangerine’s Jewellery & Part 2

Tangerine x Handler!Reader

Tangerine x Sniper!Reader *

Tangerine x Reader Only One Bed *

Tangerine x Short!Male!Reader

Mafia!Tangerine x Innocent!Reader

Sub!Tangerine x Reader *

Tangerine x Reader Bad Date

Tangerine and Elder’s Assistant

Stealing Tangerine’s Watch♥

Reader Accidentally Hurt

Tangerine x GN!Reader Smut - By The Fire *

Tangerine x M!Reader Smut *

Tangerine’s Reaction When You’re Expecting

Tangerine x Reader - Date Night

Tangerine Can’t Cook

Tangerine x Plus Size Reader*

Tangerine x Reader Praise Kink*

Tan’s First Time Bottoming*

Spooning

Tan Taking Care of Pregnant!Reader

Tan Finds You Crying

Drunk Tan x Reader

Reader & Tan Break Up

Sub!Tan Drabble

Cold Drabble

Washing Tan’s Hair

Lemon x Reader 

Lemon x Assassin Reader *

Lemon x Reader Domestic Fluff

Lemon x Reader First Kiss

Lemon x Reader Suspenders

Lemon Dealing With Tangerine and Reader When They’ve Been Drugged♥

Lemon x Reader Bath

Lemon x Reader Smut *

Lemon x Reader Get a Cat

Reader Doing Lemon’s Tie

Lemon x Male!Reader 

Lemon and the Boba Shop Barista♥

Lemon Morning Sex *

Maria Beetle x Reader

Phone Sex*

White Death x Reader

Lap

Kinktober Follow-Up*

heaven can’t help me now*

Yuichi Kimura x Reader

Single Mother!Assassin!Reader x Yuichi

Smut*

Misc Bullet Train

Pussy Eating Headcanon List

Lemon & Tangerine Clothes Shopping Headcanons

Tan & Lemon looking after a sick reader

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Reasons To Share a Bed: x x x x

Sexual Tension Prompts: x x x x

Simple Action Prompts x x x x x

Smut Prompts x x x x x x

Staying the Night x x x x