#the bottom right (on his side) was supposed to be flexing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bangchangbinnie · 1 month ago

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You Started It / TXT OT5

Pairing: chubby!fem!reader x OT5

A beach day gone wrong—or very, very right. You accidentally pack the wrong bikini. The boys notice. One by one, they take you apart. And you? You take every inch.

EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD MDNI 18+!!🔞

cw: creampie, piv, unprotected sex (DONT BE SILLY >:(), multiple members, nip slip???, ALL of txt are perverts tbh, blowjob (one), group sex, oral (f & m r.) overstimulation, size kink, body worship, praise and degradation, cumplay/breeding kink, all in all very wet

First smut I’ve ever posted :0

—————

It was just supposed to be a beach day.

You’d grabbed a bikini last minute,on sale, barely tried on,and tossed it into your bag without a second thought. The tag said it was your size. Maybe it used to be.

Maybe it wasn’t anymore.

You didn’t realize until you were standing at the edge of the beach towel, towel in one hand, the sound of waves behind you, five pairs of eyes in front of you.

The bikini top barely covered your tits. A little underboob peeked out each time you moved. The bottoms sat low, hugging your hips, dipping under your soft tummy in a way that felt… borderline indecent. And the cut in the back? Not quite a thong, not quite full coverage. Just enough cheek to make it worse.

You tugged nervously at the hem of your bikini top, the fabric stretched tighter than you remembered when you tried it on alone in your bedroom mirror. The snug material dipped low over your chest and clung to every soft curve like it had been poured onto you.

“Is this… too much?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper, heat creeping up your neck.

Silence.

Not a single word left their lips.

Yeonjun’s gaze locked onto you like he was physically incapable of looking anywhere else. His eyes dragged over your figure with a stunned intensity,so focused he forgot to blink, his jaw slightly slack. If you looked closely, you could see the pulse in his throat jump.

Beomgyu let out a low whistle that sliced through the quiet like a hot knife. His hand ran through his hair, disheveling it more than usual, the sound of his exhale practically a groan. His gaze dropped to your thighs, then lower, before darting back up and away like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t.

Kai’s lips parted like he was about to speak—but nothing came out. His eyes, usually so gentle and playful, were wide with something heavier. Hungrier. He shifted where he stood, hands flexing at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them.

Taehyun cleared his throat, the sound rough and abrupt. He turned his face so fast it looked forced—too quick to be casual, too obvious to be natural. But not before you caught the flicker of something dark and heated in his gaze.

And Soobin…

Soobin just stared.

Completely still.

Eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth slightly open. His water bottle was lifted halfway to his lips but frozen there, forgotten. A single bead of condensation slid down the plastic and fell to the ground. He didn’t even blink as his gaze swept over you,slowly, like he was memorizing every inch of bare skin, every dip, every curve. He looked almost dazed.

“Guys?” you asked again, voice quieter now. Self-consciousness crept up your spine, curling around your ribs like ice. Your arms crossed instinctively over your chest, trying to shield yourself from their stares,but it was too late. The image of you in that too-small bikini was already burned into their minds.

Soobin finally blinked.

And then swallowed.

Hard.

Yeonjun was the first to snap out of it.

“No—no, it’s not too much,” he blurted, voice pitched higher than usual as he rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes flicked upward, trying to focus on your face and only your face. “You look—uh. It’s a good color on you.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. That wasn’t exactly a denial. Just a very panicked attempt at diplomacy.

Beomgyu, sprawled out on his towel like he owned the sun, let out a low snort. “I’m gonna need to swim immediately before I lose my mind.” he muttered under his breath, dragging the heel of his palm down his face. He didn’t even try to hide the way his eyes lingered on the way your suit cut into the plush curve of your waist.

Kai laughed, but it came out strangled,tight and breathy. “Sun’s really… warm today,” he offered lamely, snatching a towel and tossing it over his lap with a speed that made your eyes narrow. His fingers tugged at the edge like he was afraid it would move, like something under there needed to stay hidden.

You blinked, and frowned.

You didn’t get it at first. You weren’t trying to tease them.

You had just picked the wrong size online. That’s all. The top was snug and the bottoms rode higher than you meant, but it wasn’t like you’d done it on purpose. You didn’t think about what it would look like to them.

So you sat down on your towel,right in the center of their little circle,legs tucked off to the side, thighs soft and glowing under the sun. You stretched your arms up with a sigh, letting the sunlight kiss your skin. Then leaned back on your hands, completely unaware of what you were doing.

But they noticed. Oh, they noticed.

Your chest pushed forward, tits straining against the small triangles of fabric, the tie between them visibly tugging with the pressure. Your stomach curved out just slightly, soft and inviting, the bikini bottoms dipping into the plush dip of your hip bones. A bead of sweat rolled down your collarbone and disappeared between the valley of your breasts.

That’s when you felt it. The stillness. The silence stretching a second too long. The way the boys weren’t talking anymore. Weren’t laughing. Not like before. Not normally. Their breathing was quieter now—heavier.

Measured.

You caught Yeonjun sneaking a glance, then looking away so fast it looked painful. Beomgyu blatantly stared before pretending to sip from an empty bottle. Kai fiddled with the towel in his lap, but his eyes kept flickering back to the tops of your thighs. Taehyun said nothing at all, but you felt his eyes on you, like a touch.

And Soobin…

Soobin hadn’t moved. His gaze lingered for too long on your stomach. Your chest. Then flicked up guiltily to your face. His cheeks were a furious shade of red.

That’s when it hit you. You weren’t just hanging out anymore. You were the problem, or at least, that’s what it felt like. Like your body, soft and bare and squeezed into this little bikini, had completely unbalanced the air. Their composure cracked like glass under your weight, and yet you still didn’t cover up.

Not yet. Not when part of you… liked the way their gazes burned.

Taehyun didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t watching as you bent forward to grab the bottle of sunscreen from your bag. His gaze dragged down the arch of your back, lingering where your bikini top strained against your shoulder blades and the lower strap cut across the curve of your sides.

You were oblivious to the way his jaw flexed, until he spoke.

“Need help with that?”

His voice came out lower than usual. Tighter. Rough around the edges, like it was being held back by sheer force of will.

You blinked at him, then tossed the bottle with a small smirk. “Sure. Back and shoulders?” He caught it with one hand,barely, and swallowed so hard you saw his throat bob.

The cap clicked open with a snap that felt unnecessarily loud in the thick air between you. You pulled your hair to the side, exposing the length of your back, and turned to face forward again. The sun warmed your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat that bloomed the moment Taehyun touched you.

His hands weren’t rushed. They were slow. Intentional. He rubbed the lotion into your skin with firm, even pressure,palms sliding over your shoulders, fingers brushing the straps of your bikini with maddening hesitation. It was like he wanted to stay respectful but couldn’t help himself. Like each pass of his hand was a battle between discipline and desire.

You heard it then. The sharp inhale just to your left. Yeonjun.

You turned your head just slightly and saw his hand twitch against the towel, curled into the fabric like he was anchoring himself. His eyes were fixed on where Taehyun’s hands met your bare skin, his chest rising and falling with shallow, barely contained breaths.

Beomgyu groaned and threw himself onto his back, slapping a wide-brimmed straw hat over his face. “I’m not looking,” he muttered, voice strained. “I’m not looking. I’m not looking.”

No one believed him, though. Not with the way his legs shifted restlessly under his towel.

Kai, on the other hand, definitely was looking.

Elbows on his knees, chin resting in one hand, his gaze traced the shape of your body like he was trying to memorize it. His lip was caught between his teeth, biting down hard. The towel in his lap had shifted slightly,and he didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

Then there was Soobin. Poor, sweet, quiet Soobin.

He hadn’t moved a muscle, but he was absolutely dying. His entire face had turned a soft, lovely shade of red,one that deepened when your thighs shifted and the inside of them caught the light. His eyes darted there once,just once,but that was all it took. He froze, stiff and silent, his water bottle now crushed slightly in his grip.

You glanced over your shoulder at Taehyun. “You okay back there?”

His thumbs brushed the top of your spine, pressing in like he was grounding himself.

“Peachy,” he replied, voice a little hoarse.

———-

It was subtle at first.

The way the atmosphere shifted.

The fidgeting. The glances. The fact that none of them could sit still around you anymore, not comfortably. They adjusted their towels, cleared their throats, scratched at nothing. Their hands wandered aimlessly: to water bottles, sunglasses, already-read pages of books they were no longer focused on.

But the moment you stood? Everything shifted.

You didn’t mean to move like that. Didn’t mean to tease.

You just walked, but your hips swayed with every step, natural, rhythmic, soft flesh shifting beneath the too-small bikini. Your thick thighs brushed with each stride, the hem of the bottoms clinging snug between them, making you tug lightly at the wedgie that refused to stay fixed. The motion only made it worse. Or maybe… better, from their point of view.

Five heads turned at once. Their silence roared louder than the waves.

You stepped into the water, squealing softly as the cold nipped at your ankles and calves, the sudden chill a sharp contrast to the heat baking your skin. You waded deeper, letting the ocean climb up your thighs, then your hips. You laughed, tipping your head back, scooping the water up and splashing it onto your chest, gasping as it hit your skin, nipples visibly hardening through the thin, wet fabric.

On the shore, they didn’t move. They watched you like you were a vision, some kind of fantasy.

Soobin leaned toward Kai, voice hushed like he was scared you might somehow hear from all the way in the water. “Did she always look like that?”

Kai exhaled, eyes glazed over. “No,” he whispered. “She didn’t always wear that.”

Taehyun stayed quiet, fingers dug into the towel beneath him like he was grounding himself, jaw tight as he tracked every glint of sun off your wet skin.

Beomgyu still had the hat over his face, but you could see his chest rising faster now. Could see his leg bouncing. He hadn’t looked away once.

Yeonjun stood up suddenly, pacing in a tight, erratic line. “Okay,” he said, flustered, practically manic. “We can’t all be freaks. Someone. Someone normal go out there and splash her. Just, like, splash her. Like a normal person.”

No one volunteered. No one moved.

Soobin muttered under his breath, “You go splash her.”

“Me?” Yeonjun pointed at himself, scandalized. “I’m the only one not hiding a boner right now.”

Beomgyu wheezed from under his hat. Kai didn’t deny it. Neither did Taehyun.

And Soobin…

Soobin finally looked away from the water, flushed and frowning, like he hated himself for wanting to look again.

Out in the ocean, you floated on your back, blissfully unaware of the fire you’d lit behind you.

———

Beomgyu raised his hand, voice flat. “I will sacrifice myself to flirt publicly.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then…

“No flirting.”

Soobin’s voice cut through the tension, low and unexpectedly firm.

Everyone froze.

“…No flirting?” Beomgyu echoed, arching a brow, as if that was the most outrageous thing said all day.

Soobin cleared his throat, suddenly flustered. “I meant…shut up.” Beomgyu smirked. Taehyun looked away with a tight-lipped smile. Kai bit down on his bottom lip, trying not to laugh, but Soobin didn’t smile back.

Eventually, they all joined you in the water, one by one. Slowly. Trying to play it cool. Trying to act like it was normal. Like they weren’t all hard and suffering.

Yeonjun was first, running in fast and diving under to hide how low his swim trunks had started to sit. Kai followed close behind, laughing too loud, splashing Beomgyu on the way in like it gave him an excuse not to look directly at your chest.

Taehyun waded in carefully, keeping his hands beneath the surface, jaw clenched.

Soobin came last. He walked in stiffly, chest rising with every slow breath, water licking higher and higher up his body like it was trying to cool him down, though it did absolutely nothing.

Once they were close to you? That was a different story. It didn’t get easier for any of them. You couldn’t keep your distance. You leaned into them.

You wrapped your arms loosely around their shoulders as the waves gently lifted your body. Clung to them for balance. Laughed and floated, your weight shifting with the tide, your skin brushing theirs in innocent, unbearable contact.

Your thighs, soft and slick, slid against theirs when you hooked your leg lazily over their hips.

Your chest pressed against their chests, barely covered by wet fabric, nipples clearly visible through the soaked bikini top. The cool water made you shiver, but the warmth of their bodies pulled you closer. And every time a wave nudged you forward, you didn’t stop it.

You let yourself collide. You let them hold you, and each time, you felt the reaction.

Fingers dug into your waist, tight, almost possessive. The kind of grip that lingered even after they let go, like they didn’t realize they were holding you that hard. You could feel the tremble in their hands beneath the surface of the water, their restraint stretched thin.

Warm palms slid down to the backs of your thighs when you drifted too close, subtle at first, until their grip firmed, fingertips pressing into soft skin like they needed to ground themselves or they’d lose control completely.

Every time your skin brushed theirs, muscles flexed beneath your touch. Chest to chest. Hip to hip. That raw tension in their bodies, coiled tight, told you more than words ever could.

Their voices betrayed them more than once.

Yeonjun’s laugh cracked mid-sentence, a little too high. Beomgyu mumbled something that dissolved into a groan. Taehyun kept clearing his throat like he was trying to chase the rasp out of his voice.

Kai’s gaze was the loudest of all.

His eyes kept darting down and away, pretending to admire the water, the sky, literally anything else, but every time he thought you wouldn’t notice, his gaze locked onto you, onto the wet fabric clinging to your chest, the beads of water sliding down your stomach, the plush curve of your thighs beneath the rippling waves.

He stared too long, then looked away too fast and then stared again like he couldn’t help it. None of them could. Your body wasn’t just in their space anymore. It was everywhere.

Wrapped around them, slick with salt and sun and barely covered in wet fabric. Floating between them, brushing against them, igniting every nerve like a live wire.

None of them knew what to do with themselves.

Yeonjun gave up pretending entirely, the pink tip of his tongue wetting his bottom lip as you floated into him, tits pressing into his bare chest. “You’re dangerous,” he muttered under his breath, but he didn’t let go.

Beomgyu lifted you halfway out of the water once—gripping your waist like it was second nature, only to drop you with a sudden splash like it would erase the moment. It didn’t.

Soobin didn’t touch you for the longest time, but then your hand reached out for his shoulder as a wave rocked you, and your body slipped slightly, legs brushing his under the surface, your hand sliding across his chest.

He caught you.

Of course he did.

You slipped, just enough for it to matter, and Soobin’s arms were already there before you even called out. One strong hand clamped around your waist, the other steady at the small of your back, keeping you afloat like your body was made of something precious. Fragile. Dangerous.

His grip wasn’t hesitant. It was firm. Anchoring. His fingers splayed wide across your skin, pressing into the dip of your waist where the curve began, thumb brushing just under the edge of your bikini top, like he didn’t know or didn’t care how high he’d gone.

And then…his eyes met yours.

Chest to chest, water lapping between your bodies, the distance between your mouths was barely a breath.

Your lips parted.

His did too.

The tension between you snapped taut like a bowstring drawn too far. Every cell in your body felt aware, too aware, of his closeness. The heat of his breath mixing with yours. The tremble in his fingertips. The way his pupils were blown wide, drunk on adrenaline or desire or both.

“You okay?” he asked. His voice was rough.

Not because he meant it to be but because he couldn’t help it. You nodded, slowly. “Yeah.” But neither of you moved.

Your lips hovered too close. The kind of closeness that made your heart stutter and your breath catch. The kind that felt like gravity, like inevitability. Like if either of you so much as swayed, you’d kiss.

All of them saw

Yeonjun froze mid-step, jaw clenching as his gaze locked onto the space between your mouths. Beomgyu stopped laughing. His smirk faded into something unreadable, darker. Taehyun stood utterly still, his shoulders tense, chest rising a little too sharply. Kai… Kai’s eyes widened, his expression flickering between fascination and something like jealousy.

The tension wasn’t silent anymore. It wasn’t subtle. It was loud in its stillness. It demanded attention. Thick and oppressive, like the sun had dropped closer to the earth just to watch.

And all you had to do was keep floating. Keep pretending your chest wasn’t pressed to his. That your thighs hadn’t slid over his lap under the water. That you didn’t feel his breath ghost across your cheek like a promise.

———-

Later, after the sun had dipped lower in the sky and your skin was still warm from salt and heat, you stood at the edge of the beach, towel in hand, brushing off the sand that clung to your thighs.

Soobin watched you.

From behind his sunglasses, half-reclined on a chair he hadn’t moved from in nearly thirty minutes, he just… stared. Not distractedly. Not casually. With intent. With weight. Like he was trying to memorize every inch of you now that the water no longer distorted your shape now that the wet fabric clung tighter, outlining everything the waves had once hidden.

He didn’t flinch when you caught him.

You arched an eyebrow, smirking to yourself, and bent to shake out your towel. A playful flick of your wrist, your hips tilting just slightly, ass angled back as you gave the damp cloth a snap in the breeze.

That’s when you heard it..

A sharp, sudden cough.

You straightened and turned. Soobin had definitely choked. His hand hovered in front of his mouth, eyes wide behind dark lenses. His chest rose in a shallow breath, and his jaw tensed hard enough to tick.

“You okay?” you asked, amused, slinging the towel over your shoulder.

He lowered his hand, slowly. Pulled his sunglasses down just enough for you to see his eyes. Dark, glossy, burning with something he hadn’t yet said out loud.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to us, do you?” he rasped. You blinked. Caught off guard. “I… just bought the wrong size.”

Your voice was soft. Honest. Almost shy. Soobin’s smile in response was anything but innocent. It curled up slow, like it knew something.

“That’s the problem,” he murmured.

There it was. The tension you thought had peaked earlier? It surged again, hot and electric, crawling up your spine, settling low in your belly. The way he said it wasn’t teasing, but a confession.

That’s the problem.

That you didn’t know what you were doing. That you didn’t mean to drive them crazy, but you were. That your softness, your skin, your shape, the stretch of that little bikini, they’d been suffering through it all day.

Now? Now it was starting to show.

———-

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, staining the sky in soft oranges and dusky pinks. Shadows stretched long over the sand as the day’s heat clung stubbornly to your skin, sticking grains of salt and sunscreen to your thighs. Everything smelled like summer, warm skin, coconut lotion, and the fading tang of the ocean breeze.

Everyone was sun-dazed and loose-limbed, voices slower, laughter easier.

But the ease didn’t last.

The moment you all reached the van, parked just off the beach path, reality hit like a brick to the face.

The back was stuffed.

Coolers. Inflated floaties. A folding beach umbrella that no one managed to close properly. A stack of towels, bags of snacks, Beomgyu’s inexplicably large duffel bag full of God-knows-what. It looked less like a day trip and more like an emergency evacuation.

“There’s only five seats,” Yeonjun muttered, staring into the packed abyss like it had personally offended him.

Kai ducked his head into the back and grimaced. “Back seat’s stuffed to hell,” he confirmed. “There’s no room unless you wanna sit on the watermelon.”

You blinked. “Wait… so where am I supposed to sit?” Five pairs of eyes turned to you at once.

And something about that look, the shift, the tension that immediately snapped into place, made your stomach dip.

Like they’d all just been waiting for this moment. Then, in rapid succession:

“I’ve got space,” Yeonjun said quickly, patting his lap with exaggerated enthusiasm, eyes already gleaming with challenge.

“She can sit on me,” Beomgyu added, slinging his arm over the door frame with a cocky grin. “I’ve got excellent shock absorption. Certified.”

“No,” Soobin cut in, voice low and even. “She’ll be more comfortable here.” He shifted in his seat, spreading his knees just slightly. Subtle. Possessive. Certain.

Taehyun didn’t say much. Just reached for the seatbelt across his chest and unhooked it, already leaning over like he was expecting you to take the offer. “Come here,” he said simply, without looking at anyone else.

Kai on the other hand, he didn’t say a word. Just opened his arms wide from his spot in the middle row, eyes soft and pleading, like his lap was the most natural option. Like of course you’d sit there. Like he’d been waiting for it all day.

Your gaze flicked between them.

All five.

All watching you.

The air suddenly felt heavier, hotter, thick with something that had been simmering under the surface for hours. Their gazes weren’t innocent anymore. Not after today. Not after the water. Not after the way you’d clung to them, touched them, let yourself float between their hands like you belonged there.

This wasn’t about who had space. This was about who got to touch you. Who got to feel your weight. Your thighs. Your chest pressing against them as the car jostled down the road.

You could see it in their eyes. Feel it in the way their bodies leaned forward, chests rising just a little faster than before.

“Any volunteers to sit in the trunk with Beomgyu’s flamingo float?” you joked weakly, trying to cut the tension.

No one laughed. They were waiting…for you.

You blinked at them all, stunned. “You guys…”

“We’re being practical,” Soobin said quickly, voice an octave too high to be convincing. “Weight distribution.”

You raised a brow, trying to bite back your laugh. “Right. Very scientific.” No one offered a better explanation.

And so, after a beat, after scanning the vehicle and their eager, barely restrained faces, you sighed and slid toward the middle seat. Soobin was already there, long legs spread slightly, seatbelt buckled and posture just stiff enough to suggest he was trying very, very hard to act unbothered.

You chose him because it felt like the safest option.

Or at least… it should have been.

At first.

You turned, easing your back toward him and bracing one hand on the seat for balance. Your bikini bottoms were still damp, clinging to your skin, the fabric snug where it hugged between your thighs. When you lowered yourself onto him, it wasn’t slow enough to avoid contact. It was too slow. Your hips met his with a soft, wet sound, skin meeting skin beneath the thin barrier of nylon.

You shifted. Just a little. Trying to balance. Your thighs spread slightly across his lap for stability, and you felt it instantly.

The hard ridge pressed between you. The tension in his muscles. The way his breath stuttered in his chest.

Soobin hissed through his teeth.

You froze.

“You okay?” you asked, half-turning to look at him over your shoulder.

He was trying. You could tell he was trying to keep it together. His jaw was clenched, shoulders stiff, and his hands, large and warm, hovered awkwardly at your waist. Not touching, not fully resting, just trembling slightly in place like he didn’t trust himself to move.

“Yeah,” he said, a little too fast. His voice was hoarse, cracking around the edges. “Mhm. Totally fine.”

He wasn’t fine. Not when you could feel his thighs tighten beneath you. You could hear the subtle catch in his breath every time you adjusted. You could sense how hard he was trying not to react.

The car door shut behind you, sealing the two of you in. The rest of the guys piled in around you—Kai and Beomgyu in the back, Taehyun sliding into the passenger seat, Yeonjun behind the wheel.

But Soobin didn’t move. Barely even let out a breath.

And when the car hit the first bump in the road, jolting your body down harder onto his lap, you felt it. That deep, involuntary groan in his chest he tried and failed to stifle.

———-

The van bumped along the uneven road, the hum of tires on gravel the only sound as conversation had long since dwindled into charged silence. The sun dipped lower outside the windows, casting the car in warm amber light, soft shadows flickering across your bare thighs as you shifted in Soobin’s lap.

You didn’t realize what had happened.

The thin fabric of your cover-up had ridden up when you climbed in, bunched beneath your ass and exposing more skin than you meant to. And your bikini top, still damp, still clinging, had started to loosen at the left strap. Not enough to notice right away. But just enough that, with each subtle bounce of the vehicle, the fabric tugged. Shifted. Slid.

The left strap slipped further.

And further.

And you didn’t notice.

But Soobin did.

He stiffened beneath you, hands suddenly flying to your waist, fingers gripping with sharp intensity. His breath hitched at your back.

“Wait…don’t move..” he said, low and urgent.

But it was too late.

You reached down toward the door pocket, the curve of your body folding forward, your spine brushing his chest. The motion pulled the front of your top downward, straining the already-too-small triangles of fabric.

Then-

The soft snap of tension giving way.

Air hit your skin.

Your left nipple slipped out. Just enough.

A delicate peek of darkened skin beneath the edge of your bikini top. A soft curve, unmistakable in shape and contrast. Briefly, heartbreakingly visible in the golden light through the windshield.

Yeonjun saw it first. He choked on his own spit.

“Cough—!”

He turned his head so fast you thought he might give himself whiplash, ears instantly flushed red. His hand slammed against the steering wheel like he’d just seen a crime.

Beomgyu… didn’t look away.

His jaw flexed, his fingers tightening into fists on his thighs. His eyes darkened. He adjusted his swim shorts with a jerk of his hand, shifting like he was uncomfortably hard now, and not even trying to hide it.

Kai looked like he was physically holding his breath, lips parted slightly, his entire body frozen mid-turn like he’d been about to speak but forgot how to.

And Taehyun, up in the front passenger seat? Completely still. Stiff shoulders. Straight spine. The only movement was the subtle clench of his hands on his knees.

But underneath you…

Soobin made a sound.

A low, desperate sound that was half groan, half gasp. It came from deep in his chest, raw and barely contained. You felt the vibration of it through your back, your hips, all the way down your thighs.

“What?” you asked, frowning, blinking in confusion as you glanced down-

-and then you saw it.

Your heart stuttered. Your breath left in a sharp rush. “Shit—!”

You scrambled to fix it, one arm flying up to cover your chest, the other tugging your top desperately back into place. But before you could reach-

Soobin’s hand caught your wrist. Big, warm fingers curling around your forearm. Your breath caught. You looked back at him over your shoulder.

His eyes were unreadable behind his sunglasses, but his lips were parted, cheeks flushed, throat working around a thick swallow. His grip didn’t ease, his other hand still trembling on your waist.

“Don’t,” he said, voice barely audible.

“It’s okay,” Soobin murmured, his breath hot against your shoulder. “Just… don’t panic.”

You turned your head slightly, barely able to hear him over the pounding of your own pulse. “Don’t panic?” you whispered, breathless, eyes wide. You were too aware of everything. Your wet skin, the thin bikini clinging to you, the eyes watching you from every angle.

But most of all… you felt him. His thighs shifted subtly beneath you, trying (and failing) to adjust. And that’s when you felt it.

Hard.

Thick.

Pressed right between your legs where your soaked bikini bottoms had molded to your heat like a second skin. There was no space left between you. Every movement, every breath, made it worse.

Or better.

“You’re driving them crazy,” he said, voice hushed and tight. Your head spun. “Not on purpose,” you whispered back.

“I know.”

And the way he said it…

His voice was lower now. Gravelly. Almost broken. Darker. “That’s the worst part.”

Your breath caught.

You looked down, cheeks burning as your shaking hands tugged your top back into place, hiding the slip of skin that had sent a shockwave through the car. But it was too late to take it back. The air had already changed. Thick and heavy, humid with tension. The windows were beginning to fog at the corners, clouding the outside world from view.

Inside the van, it felt like something feral was growing.

Beomgyu shifted in the back seat. His legs were spread wider now, elbows digging into his knees, head bowed low like he needed to concentrate just to breathe. Sweat glistened along his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard with each swallow.

Kai was openly staring at your thighs. His lip was caught between his teeth, bitten so hard it had turned red. His hands clenched into fists on either side of his seat, but his eyes never moved. He looked dazed. Desperate.

Yeonjun let his head fall back against the driver’s seat with a heavy thud and groaned. “We’re gonna need a cold shower after this,” he muttered to no one in particular, one hand adjusting himself beneath the steering wheel like he didn’t care who saw anymore.

Soobin wasn’t hovering anymore. His hands were on you. Firm.

Heavy palms cupping your hips like you were something delicate and breakable and already his. His thumbs brushed over the soft curve of your sides, just beneath the edge of your top, pressing possessively into your skin like he was branding the moment into memory.

He hadn’t let go since the wardrobe mishap.

And now, it was clear he didn’t intend to.

You sat perfectly still, your back pressed to his chest, your breathing shallow. You didn’t dare move again. Not with the way his fingers flexed just slightly every time your thighs shifted.

————-

The beach house was dimly lit, golden shadows stretching along the walls as the last of the sun sank behind the horizon. The air inside clung to your skin, thick with ocean humidity and heat still radiating from your post-shower body.

You towel-dried your hair slowly, warm droplets sliding down your bare shoulders. Everything felt soft and quiet. The kind of stillness that happens before something breaks.

You’d thrown on the only sleep set you’d packed, not realizing how bad how good the fit had become.

The tank top was cropped. Really cropped. The fabric was soft and thin, worn from washing, now hugging every curve of your chest. It clung to the swell of your breasts, dipping dangerously low and riding high, just brushing the lower edge of your underboob. You hadn’t packed a bra. The air in the house was cool enough for that to be obvious.

The shorts?

Even worse.

Stretchy. Breathable. Meant for lounging. But now they fit like a second skin, rising high on your waist and gripping your hips so tight the seam strained. The soft material framed the curve of your ass, the bottom hem barely visible under the fullness of your thighs. Every step made the fabric shift higher, and you kept tugging it down without realizing just how much attention that alone would draw.

You didn’t even hesitate when you padded barefoot down the hallway, still warm and clean and relaxed. You weren’t thinking about how you looked.

You didn’t know yet.

Until you walked into the living room. Everything stopped. The soft hum of a fan. The low buzz of someone’s phone. The murmur of whatever background show Beomgyu had turned on…

All of it cut out. Not because the sound stopped.

But because they did.

Yeonjun was on the arm of the couch, drink halfway to his mouth. It never made it. He froze completely, eyes dragging over your body. Slow, stunned, unreadable.

Beomgyu had been mid-laugh, something clever on his tongue, until he caught a glimpse of your bare stomach and how your shorts shifted with your step. His mouth stayed open, but no sound came out.

Kai looked up from his phone. Blinked once. Twice. Then again like he was short-circuiting, face flushed as his gaze zeroed in on your thighs and didn’t move.

Taehyun stiffened where he sat on the floor, remote in hand. His fingers twitched like he forgot what he was doing. His eyes locked on the outline of your nipples against the thin tank top, visible even in the soft lamplight.

Soobin had been standing in the kitchen doorway, sipping from a glass of water. The glass tilted, ice clinking. But his eyes never left you. His gaze dropped down the full length of your body and dragged back up with unforgiving slowness.

His grip on the glass tightened. Water dripped from the edge. He didn’t blink.

You stopped halfway into the room, towel still slung over your shoulder.

“…What?” you asked.

The word barely made it out of your mouth. The room was silent. Thick, hot, achingly still.

Yeonjun cleared his throat, but it didn’t help much. His voice came out low and rough, like it scraped the edge of his throat. “What’re you wearing?”

You blinked. “Pajamas.”

But when you glanced down at the soft stretch of your tank top clinging tight to your breasts, at the way your shorts hugged your hips and disappeared beneath the curve of your thighs, you suddenly understood.

Soobin’s jaw tensed visibly. “That’s not pajamas,” he said, voice quiet but razor sharp. “That’s… that’s barely anything.”

“I-it’s hot,” you said, crossing your arms instinctively over your chest, but it only pressed your tits up higher. The thin fabric clung to your damp skin, and you were sure he could see the outline of your nipples through it.

“You’re not making it better,” Beomgyu muttered, dragging his hand down his face like it physically hurt to look at you. His eyes dipped low again anyway. He looked wrecked. Hair messy, lips parted, expression tight like he was holding something back and barely succeeding.

Kai shifted again on the couch and picked up a pillow—not for comfort, not really. He set it in his lap, then dropped his head back against the cushions with a quiet, frustrated groan.

Taehyun still hadn’t moved. He hadn’t blinked. He was staring at the spot where your shirt had ridden up just above your belly button, lips parted slightly like he couldn’t stop tracing your skin with his eyes.

You took a half step backward. “Are you seriously-? Guys. I just took a shower.”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun said slowly, eyes flicking up and down your body with a look that made your knees weak. “And now you’ve walked in here like that, and what- expected us to act normal?”

“I didn’t mean-”

Soobin stepped forward. Everything in you stilled. His body was close. Warm. Tall and quiet and buzzing with something heavy beneath the surface.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to us, do you?” he said. His voice wasn’t loud. It was low, almost gentle. But it sent a chill straight down your spine. You swallowed. Your chest rose with a shaky breath. “No. I really don’t.”

Soobin’s gaze dropped. Traced your curves, slowly. He looked at the way your top pressed into your chest, at the damp hair curling around your collarbone, at the bare skin between your thighs where your shorts had ridden up.

“Then I’ll tell you,” he murmured. You didn’t stop him.

“You walk in here like that,” he continued, voice like velvet soaked in heat, “wearing next to nothing, smelling like soap and salt and whatever lotion you just used, and you expect us to pretend we haven’t been dying to touch you all day?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

He reached out, hesitated, then rested one hand lightly on your hip. His fingers barely curled around the softness there.

“You’re making us crazy.”

Behind you, Beomgyu shifted, leaning forward. Kai’s voice was quiet. “Every time you moved, I could see the shape of your ass under those shorts. I had to sit with a pillow on my dick the entire ride home.”

Taehyun finally spoke. Voice low. Even. “You didn’t know what you were doing. But we did. We knew what this was.” You blinked at them, heart pounding in your chest.

Yeonjun stood, walking toward you with slow, careful steps, his gaze sharp and unreadable.

“But the question is,” he said softly, “what do you want to happen now?” You opened your mouth. No words came. Soobin’s hand tightened slightly on your hip.

Yeonjun stepped closer. Beomgyu’s knee brushed the back of your thigh as he leaned in, voice a whisper behind you.

“Because if you don’t want us to touch you…” His breath hit your ear.

“Say so now.”

Then Soobin moved behind you. Pressed his chest to your back. His lips brushed your ear.

“Let us touch you,” he murmured. “Please.”

And you… nodded.

———-

You didn’t say no. You didn’t say anything at all. That silence was everything they needed.

Soobin was the first to move.

His hand, already resting gently on your hip, thumb brushing the hem of your too-tight sleep shorts, began to slide lower. Slow. Careful. Like he didn’t want to startle you. Like you were something delicate and sacred.

He cupped the plush curve of your thigh, fingers spreading to feel just how thick and warm your skin was beneath his palm. His grip tightened, not rough, but firm, as if he needed to anchor himself there. Like letting go wasn’t an option.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, voice so low it nearly disappeared into the heat between you.

“I’m nervous,” you breathed.

He smiled against your shoulder. You didn’t see it, but you felt it. A quiet tug of his lips brushing your skin. His breath was warm, steady, grounding.

“We’ll take care of you,” he whispered. “Every inch.”

Behind you, the air shifted.

Beomgyu leaned in so close that his chest barely ghosted your back, and the heat of his breath fanned across the side of your neck. It made you shiver again, despite the warmth of the room.

Then his hands.

One slid around your waist, large and warm, settling on the soft swell of your belly, his thumb rubbing small, slow circles against your skin as if memorizing how you felt.

The other?

It moved higher. Up, up, lightly grazing over your ribs until his fingertips brushed the underside of your breast through the paper-thin tank top. You weren’t wearing a bra. He knew that. He’d known the moment you walked into the room. But now he could feel it.

His fingers traced the edge of your softness, reverent. Tempted. Barely touching, but worshiping with every inch of skin he could reach.

“You’re so soft,” he whispered, voice almost dazed. “So fucking soft.”

His hand splayed fully now, fingertips skimming the side of your breast, pressing just enough to feel the weight of it in his palm.

He wasn’t teasing. He sounded… awestruck.

Like he couldn’t believe he was finally touching you like this. Like you were real, and warm, and his fingers were allowed to explore everything he’d only ever imagined.

Soobin’s hand moved again, dragging upward from your thigh to your waist, where he met Beomgyu’s grip. His palm pressed flat against your belly, fingertips dipping beneath the hem of your tank top to stroke the skin there. His other hand traced the outside of your thigh, then slid back and cupped the underside of your ass, fingers digging in a little harder now.

“You’re trembling,” Soobin said again, voice deeper now. Beomgyu let out a breathy laugh against your ear.

“She likes it,” he said. “You like being touched like this, don’t you?” You nodded this time.

“Say it,” Yeonjun’s voice came from in front of you—lower, rougher, his eyes dark and fixed on where their hands touched your body. “We want to hear it.”

“I like it,” you whispered. “I—I like it.”

Taehyun stepped closer now. He’d been watching in silence, unmoving, unreadable, but now his eyes were hot, his lips parted. He ran two fingers along your arm, then up to your jaw, tilting your head so he could look into your eyes.

“Tell us if it’s too much,” he said quietly.

Your breath caught. “It’s not,” you said.

Kai’s hand joined the others next, brushing lightly over your hip, his touch feather-light but hungry, sliding around the dip of your waist as he bent low to press a kiss to the center of your back.

“We’ve wanted this,” he said. “We’ve wanted you.” Yeonjun stepped in next, cupping your jaw and tilting your face up toward his. “If you want to stop, say it now.”

You didn’t. You couldn’t. You just nodded, lips parted, body buzzing.

That was all it took.

Yeonjun’s mouth was on yours. Hot, slow, possessive. He kissed you like he owned the moment, like he’d been imagining this for years. And as soon as he pulled back, Kai’s lips were replacing his, gentler but no less desperate.

Their hands moved slowly at first.

Kai knelt in front of you, hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the hem of your sleep shorts higher and higher until his thumbs grazed your inner thighs.

Soobin slipped behind you, fingers teasing under the hem of your tank, skimming the base of your spine.

“Can I take this off?” he murmured against your shoulder.

You nodded.

He lifted the tank over your head, and the room went silent. Then Taehyun, still quiet, still intense, reached forward and ran his hand along the side of your bare breast.

“Perfect,” he whispered.

Beomgyu let out a breath like he’d been punched.

“You’ve been hiding this from us all day,” he muttered. “This fucking body.”

“Didn’t mean to,” you mumbled, cheeks hot.

“Doesn’t matter now,” Yeonjun said, leaning down to kiss along the curve of your neck. “You’re ours.”

Soobin’s hands moved to your chest, cupping your tits from behind, fingers rolling your nipples while Kai kissed lower down your belly, worshipping the softness, the way you curved under his hands.

Then his tongue met the waistband of your shorts.

“Please,” you breathed, voice already breaking. “Touch me.” Kai smiled up at you from between your legs, eyes half-lidded with hunger, his breath hot against your thighs.

“I was waiting for you to ask.”

His fingers curled into the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down slowly. Inch by inch. So slow it made you tremble. The elastic caught on the curve of your ass, then slipped down, exposing more of your soft, wet heat until you were completely bare in front of them.

“Holy shit,” Kai whispered, voice caught somewhere between awe and arousal. His eyes locked on your soaked cunt. Your folds glistening, twitching with need, already messy without a single touch.

“She’s soaked,” he murmured again, almost like he didn’t believe it. “Dripping down her fucking thighs.”

Beomgyu was already on his knees beside him, mouth parted, pupils blown wide. “Can I taste?” he asked, voice rasping, fingers twitching at his sides like he was holding himself back by sheer force.

Kai looked up at you. “You okay with that?”

“Please,” you begged, your voice wrecked. “I want all of you. I want-fuck, please.”

You felt Soobin’s hands slide under your thighs, lifting you slightly, turning you in his lap so your legs fell open over his. He held you there. Open, exposed, vulnerable and throbbing, your cunt bare and twitching just inches from Kai’s face.

“You’re gonna let us ruin you tonight,” Soobin whispered against your ear, voice trembling with restraint. “You understand that?”

You nodded, helpless and breathless. “Yes.” Then Kai’s mouth was on you. His tongue dragged up your slit, slow, flat, starving, and you cried out, back arching, hands flying to his hair.

He groaned into your cunt like he was dying, sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue fast—wet, messy, relentless. The sound of it was obscene, every slurp echoing through the living room, filling your ears, making your toes curl.

And then Beomgyu joined him. Two mouths. Two tongues. One sliding lower. Fucking you open with deep, slow thrusts of his tongue, pressing into your hole like he couldn’t get deep enough. The other sucking your clit, lips swollen, nose buried in the wet between your thighs.

“Oh my fucking god—” you moaned, loud, raw, completely unraveling. Your knees jerked, thighs trembling, but Soobin’s hands kept you spread wide.

“Let them taste you,” he murmured, biting gently at your shoulder. “Be good and take it.”

You were good. You were falling apart.

Yeonjun stepped in front of you, cupping your cheeks, tilting your head up so your eyes met his. He kissed you hard. Tongue deep, fast, hungry, swallowing your moans as they ripped from your throat.

Taehyun stood behind Soobin, stroking himself slow, watching your body twitch and tremble in his hyung’s lap. “She looks so fucking pretty like this,” he said, voice low. “Look at her. She’s shaking.”

Kai moaned into you, tongue flicking over your clit fast and brutal while Beomgyu’s fingers replaced his tongue curling inside you, thick, relentless, pressing just right.

“Gyu—Kai—I’m gonna—” you choked out. Soobin kissed your temple. “Give it to them.”

You came with a scream, legs snapping around their heads, cunt clenching around Beomgyu’s fingers as Kai sucked your orgasm out of you like he’d been starving for it. You felt the drip of your release spill down between your thighs. You felt them lap it up.

And when you started to squirm, overstimulated, Kai just held your hips down and muttered against your pussy, “Not done yet.”

Beomgyu looked up, lips and chin soaked, eyes wild. “We haven’t even started.”

————

Moving into one of the bedrooms, they laid you down like you were something to be unwrapped. Treasured and ruined all at once. Your back hit the mattress, the sheets cool beneath your heated skin, and you barely had a chance to breathe before they were on you.

All of them hard, heavy with lust, eyes dark with the same hunger.

Soobin was already between your thighs, running the thick length of his cock along your folds slow and teasing, dragging through the slickness there like he owned you. “She’s so wet,” he growled, more to the others than to you. “She’s ready for it.”

Kai’s mouth was soft on your stomach, lips dragging up the line of your navel, his hands gripping your hips like he wanted to hold you still like he was already struggling to behave. “Please,” he whispered, his breath ghosting across your skin, “I want to be inside her so bad.”

Taehyun leaned in beside your ear, voice low and breath hot. “Let me go first. Just a taste.” His cock pressed against your thigh, twitching, leaking against your skin.

“No,” Soobin snapped. “She’s mine right now.”

He pushed in. Slow. Stretching you open around his thick cock until your back arched off the bed and your fingers scrambled at the sheets. The others watched, mesmerized, panting, jerking themselves slowly as they waited their turn. You swore you could hear Kai whimper. Taehyun bit his lip hard enough to bleed.

Soobin fucked you deep. So deep it felt like he was in your stomach, every inch of him thick and pulsing inside your soaked cunt. He wasn’t gentle. He didn’t ease you in or give you time to adjust. He wanted to feel you break around him. Wanted to feel your body give out from how hard he was using it.

His hips dragged back slowly, teasing your walls as his cock slid out with a slick, wet sound, then he slammed forward, the force of it jolting your entire body up the bed. You cried out, but he didn’t slow down. He just grunted, rough and low, holding your thighs wide apart, watching the way your pussy swallowed him whole over and over again.

“Fuck, look at that,” he growled, voice wrecked, sweat dripping from his jaw. “You’re soaked. You hear that?”

And you could. Every thrust filled the room with the obscene, squelching sound of your cunt clinging desperately to his cock. Wet and needy and messy.

The bedframe slammed against the wall with every brutal stroke. You felt the wood creak beneath you, the sheets already damp with sweat and slick and drool. Soobin’s hands kept you pinned down, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise because you were squirming, legs shaking, body trembling, and he didn’t want you to move an inch.

“You gonna cum already?” he sneered, bending over you, chest pressing to yours. “We just started, baby. You better hold it.”

But your body betrayed you. Your back arched off the bed. Your nails raked down his back. And when he shifted his angle, grinding the head of his cock against your sweet spot over and over, punishingly precise. You shattered.

Your orgasm ripped through you like lightning. Your vision went white. Your pussy clenched down so hard on him he snarled against your neck, biting down to muffle the sound. You felt yourself gush around him, slick pouring down your thighs.

But Soobin didn’t stop. He fucked you through it, kept pounding into your overstimulated cunt like he wanted to make you cry. And you did. Tears slipping down your cheeks as your body thrashed beneath him.

“So tight when you cum,” he breathed, watching your face twist in pleasure and pain. “Fuck-you were made for this.”

And then he pulled out slow, dragging every inch of himself from your dripping hole, and you barely had time to catch your breath before the next cock replaced his.

Taehyun was already in position. Cock thick, flushed, slick with precum. His chest heaved as he stared down at you, pupils blown wide with lust. He didn’t wait. Didn’t even pretend to give you time. He just shoved in hard, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust that knocked the breath out of your lungs.

Your scream tore through the room, but it melted into a whimper as his cock stretched your already-fucked pussy even more, pushing against the swollen, sensitive walls Soobin had just wrecked. He groaned, the sound raw and desperate, his hands gripping your thighs and pulling them over his shoulders so he could drive even deeper.

“F-fuck,” Taehyun gasped, snapping his hips into you without mercy. “She’s still tight-how the fuck—?”

He sounded delirious. Ferocious. You felt his abs flex with every thrust as he bent over you, chest shining with sweat, the muscles in his arms trembling from how hard he was gripping you.

He didn’t ease up.

His cock slammed into you again and again, the head hitting your sweet spot like he knew exactly where it was. The way he moved was animalistic. Deep and punishing, his balls slapping against your ass wetly with each thrust. Your cunt squelched around him, loud, messy, soaking both of you, and he growled from the sensation, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck—so warm—so fucking good—”

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t think. Your eyes rolled back, drool slipping down your cheek as Taehyun rutted into you like he was trying to fuck your soul out of your body.

Then you felt fingers in your hair.

Yeonjun.

He crouched behind you, fist pumping slowly along his shaft as his other hand curled into your scalp, lifting your head. Your mouth parted on instinct, lips wet and swollen, and he pressed the tip of his cock to your tongue.

“Open that pretty mouth,” he said, voice like silk over fire. “Let me in.”

You obeyed. Lips stretching, tongue out, welcoming him in as Taehyun fucked you from below.

Yeonjun slid into your mouth. Slow and teasing, until his cock pressed against the back of your throat. You gagged slightly, eyes watering, and he groaned deep in his chest, thumb brushing the corner of your lips as your mouth stretched wide around him.

“That’s it. Just like that,” he murmured, hips starting to roll as he face-fucked you in time with Taehyun’s brutal thrusts. “Use that throat, baby. Show me how much you want it.”

Your body was sandwiched. Taehyun’s cock slamming into your dripping pussy, Yeonjun’s sliding deep into your throat. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t moan. Your only sounds were muffled gags and the wet, obscene music of skin on skin, slick on slick.

Your arms flailed weakly, fingers clawing at the sheets, legs twitching around Taehyun’s shoulders. You were dizzy. Fucked out. Ruined.

But they weren’t done with you. Not even close.

Kai slipped between your legs while Taehyun pulled out, your pussy raw, gaping, still fluttering from the relentless pounding. Slick coated your thighs, shining on your skin, dripping into the ruined sheets below. You were barely coherent. Panting, shaking, tears streaked down your face, but Kai looked at you like you were the most fragile, beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

He was the only one who hesitated.

He knelt there, cock hard and leaking against his stomach, fingers stroking your inner thighs with reverence. His voice trembled when he leaned in, mouth brushing your cheek, your jaw, your collarbone. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, breath hot against your skin. “I’ll be gentle, I promise…”

But your body was soaked, stretched, begging, and when he finally pressed in, his entire body shuddered.

“Fuck,” Kai gasped, burying himself inside you inch by inch. “You’re so warm. So fucking wet—shit—”

He paused once he was fully in, letting your walls squeeze around him, his forehead resting against yours. For a moment, you thought he might actually stay soft, sweet. But then your pussy clenched, instinctive and greedy, pulsing around his cock—and that fragile control snapped.

His hands suddenly gripped your hips tight, hard enough to bruise and he slammed into you. The sudden force knocked your breath out. Kai cursed again, louder this time, his voice breaking.

“I-I’m sorry,” he gasped, even as his hips snapped forward again and again. “I—fuck—I can’t stop—I need you—I need you so bad—”

The rhythm turned feral. No more gentle apologies. Just frantic, desperate thrusts. His cock drilling into your soaked, overstimulated cunt like he was trying to melt into you. The boy who always smiled, who always giggled shyly behind his hands, was gone.

This Kai was trembling. Sweating. Obsessed.

“Been dreaming of this,” he choked out, mouth dragging along your throat, your jaw, your lips. “Every fucking night—touching myself—thinking about how you’d sound, how you’d feel, how you’d taste—”

One hand slid under your thigh, hooking it up around his waist so he could thrust even deeper, angling perfectly to grind against your swollen, sensitive spot. You cried out, legs kicking, body jolting beneath him.

Your pussy clenched again. Tight, needy, and he snapped, fucking into you like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“You’re mine now,” he hissed, voice shaking. “Mine. I don’t care who had you first—I’m gonna fuck you so full of me you’ll forget every other name.”

And you did.

Because all you could feel was Kai—his cock stretching you open, his body flush to yours, his hands everywhere, his voice breaking as he moaned and babbled into your skin.

His thrusts grew erratic, wild. Hips stuttering against you as he buried himself to the hilt, cock twitching deep inside your soaked cunt. His nails dug into your waist as his moans turned desperate, raw, needy.

“Fuck—fuck—I’m gonna—” he gasped, voice cracking, forehead pressed against yours, sweat dripping onto your cheeks. “I’m gonna cum—inside—inside you—can I? Please—please let me—”

But he didn’t wait for an answer.

Your pussy clenched around him again, and that was it.

Kai let out a strangled cry somewhere between a whimper and a broken sob as his cock throbbed violently, and then he came. Hard.

You felt it.

Hot, thick spurts of cum flooded your already ruined pussy, shooting deep inside you with every twitch of his cock. He didn’t pull out. He pushed deeper, grinding into you, gasping as his seed spilled into your swollen walls.

“Shit—fuck—you’re taking all of it—fuck—” he babbled, watching your belly as if he could see himself filling you up.

You moaned beneath him, body shaking from the heat spreading through your core. His cum leaking out around his still-throbbing cock, dripping down your ass onto the sheets. But Kai didn’t stop moving. Even as he softened, he rocked his hips slowly, lazily fucking it deeper, making sure you didn’t waste a drop.

His hand slid down to your lower belly, pressing just slightly, watching your face twist in overstimulated bliss. “So full,” he whispered, eyes wide and dazed. “You’re so full of me, baby.”

Beomgyu was the last, but he didn’t rush.

He watched the whole time. Watched you get ruined. Watched your body go limp from overstimulation. Watched cum drip from your pussy in thick, creamy ropes (Kai’s, Taehyun’s, Soobin’s) all still inside you. Watched your lips swollen and glistening from Yeonjun fucking your throat raw. And the look on his face?

It wasn’t mercy. It was hunger.

He crawled up your body like a predator, one knee between your legs, one hand curling slowly around your throat. Not tight, not yet. Just enough to make you feel it. To remind you who was in control now.

“So used up,” Beomgyu murmured, eyes locked onto yours. “And you still want more.”

His cock was heavy and dripping, already slick from watching everything that came before. He didn’t line up right away. He just slapped it against your ruined, soaked cunt, watching your whole body jolt, watching more cum spill out of you from the impact. He rubbed the head through your folds slow and nasty, smearing the mess of the others across his shaft like it turned him on even more.

“Fuck, look at you,” he muttered, tightening his grip on your throat just slightly. “Stretched. Gaping. Perfect.”

And then he pushed in deliberate, every inch dragged through the slick mess until his cock was buried inside you, thick and pulsing. Your body spasmed beneath him. Sensitive, broken, but still greedy.

You moaned. A cracked, breathless sound, and Beomgyu grinned. That cocky, dangerous grin.

“There it is,” he said, leaning closer, lips brushing yours but not kissing. “Still got noise left in you.” Then he snapped his hips forward hard and you screamed.

His cock drove into you deep and fast, merciless from the first thrust. He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t slow. He fucked you like he had a point to prove. Like he wanted to brand himself into your body and erase every other touch before him.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

His hips pounded into yours, balls hitting your ass with filthy, wet sounds. His hand around your throat squeezed tighter, just enough to make your breath hitch, to make your eyes widen.

“You like this, don’t you?” he growled. “Being our fucktoy. Getting filled over and over again until you can’t even think.”

Your cunt pulsed around him violently, and Beomgyu groaned.

“You do. Fuck—you’re clenching around me like you’re about to cum already.” His other hand dropped to your thigh, pushing your legs open wider. “I want you to milk my cock, baby. I want you to squeeze every last drop out of me. You want that too, don’t you?”

You nodded, barely able to speak.

And he rewarded you by fucking harder, hips slamming into you with vicious speed, the bed shaking, headboard banging against the wall.

The overstimulation was unbearable. His cock dragging against every hypersensitive inch of your soaked, cum-filled cunt, thick veins catching on your walls as he drove in again and again. You cried out, a choked wail, tears spilling, legs trembling, body locking up.

But he didn’t stop.

“Take it,” Beomgyu hissed, panting against your neck. “Fucking take it.”

And you did.

Because your body had no choice.

————-

They took you again and again. Positions changed. Hands were everywhere. On your tits, your throat, gripping your thighs open. Tongues traced every inch of your skin. Someone had a hand on your clit the entire time, rubbing, teasing, punishing. They didn’t stop. They didn’t let you stop.

You were soaked, dripping onto the sheets, onto their cocks. Leaking every time one of them pulled out. Your voice broke. Your body trembled. Your orgasm hit so hard you blacked out for a second, but they kept going.

You didn’t know who was inside you anymore. Whose cock was fucking your throat. Whose fingers were bruising your hips.

But you knew one thing:

You loved every filthy second of it.

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #taehyun smut #soobin smut #Kai smut #yeonjun smut #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt imagine #txt imagines #s writes 😛#smut

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hhoneylemon · 2 months ago

Text

“my favorite shade”

dick grayson x reader

content: porn without plot, sub!dick and dom!reader (loose, they’re both soft and have switch vibes), reader’s gender is unspecified, oral (male recieving), praise (reader recieving), dick cries at one point, reader uses a vibrator on dick’s dick, dick’s hands are tied up, reader uses dick’s cum as lip gloss

“so, so pretty.”

dick’s eyes land on you as you speak. well, rather, they land on your lips as they move. a little gasp escapes him as your finger trails up the underside of his cock, his arms straining in their restraints. a pretty blue ribbon was holding his wrists together, not tied very tight, but tight enough he’d have to actually try to break out of.

his hips twitch as you lean in and press a delicate kiss to his tip. a low whine slips from his lips as you pat his thigh, shaking your head and tutting.

“no, sweet. don’t get too desperate or i won’t let you fuck me, ‘kay?”

he nods, blue eyes wide and watching. his hands clench into fists as you run your tongue down his shaft. he lets out a groan and his eyes flutter closed.

you can’t help but smirk, one hand wrapping around his cock. you give a few strokes, watching as his thighs twitch. your free hand lands on his thigh, rubbing your thumb gently into the muscular flesh. his eyes crack open, his plump lips forming a pout.

“i like your mouth more than your hand.”

a little chuckle escapes you. your hand on his thigh squeezes the flesh as you hold his cock steady with the other. it stands tall and proud, curving slightly to the right. you press a kiss to the side of his head before experimentally popping it into your mouth.

he lets out a breathy ‘yes’, rocking his hips just slightly. your hand on his thigh raises to his hip, gently pinning him to his chair to keep him still. he doesn’t like that very much, but he can’t complain as you ease him deeper into your mouth.

you get about halfway down his shaft before you drag him slowly out of your mouth. you then begin bobbing your head back and forth, trying to work your mouth further and further down him. his hitched breaths and soft moans tell you that you’re doing something right.

dick’s eyes watch over you the whole time. how your fingernails leave crescent shaped indents on his hip when the stretch hurts, how spit collects at the corners of your mouth and dribble down your chin. a small pleased sigh escapes him as your nose brushes the bottom his happy trail.

“good job, baby. you’ve almost got the whole thing.”

a small pant from him as your cheeks hollow. his hands twitch where they are beside your head, the want to lightly pull your hair tingling in his fingertips. his arms flex as he throws his head back and grits his teeth. you had promised that if he kept the ribbon in tact, you would let him hit. he’s truly trying.

he rolls his hips experimentally, cringing as you choke. he looks back down, only to find you looking at him. your eyes held pure lust, though he couldn’t tell if you were upset or not.

he got his answer as he rolled his hips again and you carefully squeezed his balls in response. and throaty groan escapes him, his hips bucking. your throat was tight. he was careful, then, fucking into your mouth and listening as you choke and gasp for breath. only when he started getting close did he stop.

you pull away, taking a few deep breaths. he frowns, bonded hands reaching out and holding your cheek with a few fingertips.

“breathe, baby. sorry, i got excited.”

you take a slow and deep breath. you manage a grin, patting his thigh.

“it’s okay. i’m good. though, i’m supposed to be in control here, dick.”

he nods, gulping. he gives puppy eyes, jutting out his bottom lip in a pout.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. you can edge me if you want. i’ll be good.”

you shake your head, lightly slapping his thigh as you stand. he lets out a little ‘hey’ as you begin walking to your dresser. you open the top drawer and begin searching.

“no, no. i’m tired anyways.”

you walk back over to him, holding a vibrator. the toy is a hot pink, something he’d been specific about. he didn’t want any colors that could remind him of any of his family members while being intimate with you.

you sink back onto your knees, holding his cock in one palm. it twitches. you fidget with the vibrator for a moment, looking for your ideal speed. you finally settle on one just fast enough to catch him off guard before pressing it to the underside of his cock.

immediately, his thighs and arms tense and he gasps. his hips buck, so you put a hand on his hip to hold him still. you move the toy up his shaft, settling for his sweet spot just below his head.

sweet moans are ripped from his throat, his eyes screwing shut as he throbs in your hand. your grin is wicked, soft chuckles escaping you as you watch how easily he falls apart.

little tears well up in his eyes, catching on his bottom lashes as they fall. the vibrations were too fast, too sudden. a knot quickly formed in his stomach. your fingers massaging the sweet spot near the base of his cock really didn’t help.

then you move the toy in a small circle on his sensitive area beneath the head. his hands clench into fists and he moans lewdly, his cock throbbing dangerously. you lean in and press a kiss to his knee.

“it’s okay, sweet. you can let go.”

dick’s reaction is immediate. his cock twitches before his seed shoots out. his eyes roll back and his toes curl, wrists twisting in the restraints with the urge to full body twitch. his cum shoots onto your shoulder and dirties your shirt.

you remove the vibrator once he’s down from his high. you turn it off and take off your shirt, throwing the both of them to the side. you then untie dick’s wrists, watching as he wrings them and stretches his fingers out. before he can stand, your hands find his hips.

“wait, i need to do something real quick.”

you lean in to kiss dick’s tip, missing the way his eye twitches and his jaw clenches. he prays to anyone that he won’t get hard again.

you rub your lips together as you pull away, reaching out a finger to collect some precum that spilled down his shaft when your kiss didn’t collect enough of his cum. you run your finger over your lips, earning a confused look from your boyfriend.

“hey, baby? what’re you doing?”

he then stands and helps you to your feet. you smile at him, arms slinging around his neck as his hands take purchase on your waist. the desire to steal a kiss, to taste himself on your lips, runs deep in his veins.

“applying my favorite shade.”

dick grins like you’re his entire world before pressing his lips together yours. the taste is salty, though not quite bitter. he pulls away, rubbing his own lips together.

“next time, you should let me wear yours.”

you smile, pressing your foreheads together.

“deal.”

A/N: i haven’t written for dick in some time so let me know how this is 🙏 he’s soo baby boy i love him <3 inspired by this post by @tearvls <33 i listened to this asmr video the entire time i wrote this hehe

masterlist

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader smut #smut #gn reader #fem reader #male reader #nightwing x reader #nightwing

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sashiavi · 9 months ago

Text

✧˚·.SashiAvi's Kinktober Day Five.·˚✧

#5|Stuck/Stuckage|#5

Alex x Reader - Word Count - 3.3k

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Now. How exactly did you end up here? – Stuck half-in the cubed lockbox attached to the bottom of the bath house lockers, the metal snug around your shoulders in your attempt to reach, your knees bent into a crawl and aching in protest as they press against the cold tile floor of the locker room.

Well. It starts with one of your regular sessions with Alex at the bathhouse, the man taking up the impromptu role of a personal trainer, guiding you through the wonders of working out.

Farmwork was a tricky business, it made sense to build up your body for your own sake, avoiding any long lingering aches and pains. All it took was your own questioning about the weight set in his room before the man was dragging you up to the gym residing in the facility.

He prided himself on his physicality - That mindset bordering on toxic positivity - Rise and grind.. Or something. Truthfully the way he managed to slurp down a whole raw egg was a sight to see, and usually one you cared not to view. But his passion was endearing, cute even, a sparkle twinkling in his eye at the premise of having a buddy to work out with. You weren’t entirely sure of how exactly you felt about the man.

Was he cute? Handsome? Charming? Just how much did you like him.. What kind of like even was it? In another world, he seemed like the stereotypical jock type. Uncaring and maybe even cruel. Giving no attention to anyone outside of his own circle.

But that wasn't him at all, was it? Considerate and willing to help, gentle despite the thick muscles adorned on his body.

You arrived together as you usually did, splitting up at the door before you entered into the designated locker rooms, changing clothes, prepping yourself all ready to meet up in the middle on the other side, like clockwork. Except there's no squeak of your gym shoes against the tile, a lack of kinetic vibrance that Alex was rather quick to notice.

You weren't there.

Instead, he hears a yelp and a swear of profanity, breaking his concentration from the flex of his muscles in the mirror, your voice calling from the other side of the wall. He hears you groan, muffled and echoed, bouncing around, grating like metal. Cogs work in his brain, churning and turning with curiosity. He shouldn't.. Should he? Alex doesn't think for much longer before he makes way for the ladies' locker room, easily entering through the cut-out entrance. Something right in the very back of his mind chirps at him, about decency and maybe the implications of a man waltzing into a private space like this- But, call him concerned.

You hear Alex’s footsteps, a little squeaky, the grip on the bottom of his shoes catching on to the slick tile with every push of his feet. You wiggle and squirm, cursing the manufacturers of the locker, fighting the stinging scream of your shoulders at your attempt to pull yourself out. You did not, in fact, fit in the square hole.

Yoba, you were embarrassed, trapped within the confines of the cubic space, face down ass up with nowhere to run, as if you were stuck in some kind of cheap porn script written by some lazy author.

God, at least you were decent, gym shorts saving your dignity. You never meant to get stuck like this, obviously- But you couldn't help your water bottle taking a tumble to the floor and choosing to roll into one of the open lock boxes, you had to save the poor thing yourself. You just didn't expect the damned box to have so much depth to it, didn’t think you’d trap yourself inside, had at least a little faith that your limbs would squeeze and cooperate to get yourself free easy-peasy. You supposed the spirits were displeased today. Maybe even finding amusement at your pitiful predicament.

“Uhhh..” Alex’s voice drawls in an awkward, questioning hum, muffled through the rusted metal walls of the lockbox. You can imagine the look on his face, head quirked with a scrunch to his brow, those deep green eyes squinting in confusion. “What.. Are you doing?”

“Alex-!” You squirm, hissing at the ache in your joints, the hearty creak in your bones at your attempts to wiggle free. You must look like a fool. “Can you..- Can you help me?” You ask, a little timid in your tone, feeling your upper body starting to get clammy, hyperaware at just how tight the space really was.

Alex wasn't fairing much better.

His gaze locked on your rear, watching the cut legs of your cloth gym shorts ride up your thighs with all of that squirming, legs spread wide apart while you rested on your knees, back arched all the way down for your torso to fit into the small space. Your feet rest on your ankles, chunky sneakers with socks pulled up your calves, framing them with a subtle squish by the sock elastic, looking cute and sporty- If he looked hard enough, he's sure he can see the outline of lace hugging the supple swell of the mound of your-

“Alex.” You call out desperately, snapping the brunette out of his thoughts. “Please.” You’re begging on your hands and knees here – Literally.

“Right-! Right yeah..” He shuffles over, gulping a thick swallow of saliva that dared to pool up under his tongue, hands open and moving awkwardly, hovering over your form here, there and everywhere. Does he grab your hips? The curve of your waist? Press his warm and clammy palms into the thick of your thighs and drag you by your legs? “How..?” He feels stupid for asking.

“I don’t know, just.. Grab me?” You were short with him, frustrations bubbled up by nothing but your own predicament and the fact that you had managed to get yourself stuck like that.

Alex rests a hand on both of your hips, warm against your chilled bare hip bone, shirt risen up, hidden skin exposed to the cool, damp locker room air thanks to your squirming. His fingers were long, easily wrapping around and digging into the tender spot of your pelvis, giving a tender squeeze into it. Your body tenses up with a surprised jolt, a squeak chirped off of your lips and a scold right on the edge of your tongue.

You can only imagine the position, and Alex was lucky enough to see it; Crouched between your spread legs with an eye full of your behind, hands on your hips in such a compromising position, flooding his brain full of dirty, dirty ideas. There's a strain in his pants, the telltale pulse of blood gushing up into the plum-pink tip of his cock, pressing uncomfortably on the tight seam of his shorts. He feels the thick vein on his undershaft throb, raring to go with just a little touch to your body.

“Do I just, like.. Pull?” Alex smacks his lips, trying to be useful, looking at the wall of the locker, trying to find a way out.

“I guess?” You shimmy again, squirmy in his hold, making his fingers twitch with the hot urge to hold you down and still. The more you shift the harder it is to think straight, watching and feeling your body move under him, at the mercy of him. He was in control right now. In control of you.

“Okay..” He starts with a gentle tug, feeling out the tightness of your situation, trying to gently ease you from the confines of the space. He finds himself leaning over your body in some sort of attempt at getting the best grip on you, subsequently pressing his groin right into your ass. The thick press of his boner kissing a grind on your clothed cunt, urging up his own creak of a groan.

“Alex.. are you-?” Your eyes widen in the darkness, thighs tensing in a pitiful attempt to close and snap shut. You can't deny the heat of the situation, feeling awfully exposed and on display, not having a say in where his eyes land, where those hands touch, all dark and muffled inside the locker. You can’t stop the squeak of a noise you make, overwhelmed at the premise of Alex being on top of you-

Poor Alex. He honestly panics, tugging at you with a newfound gusto in an attempt to distract you, to free you. But he immediately regrets it, hearing you squeak and squeal, telling him to “wait wait wait-” huffing at the sting of metal uncooperative with your body. His hands feel like they’ve burnt you, seared into your skin- not to mention his little friend down there, saying a cheeky peek-a-boo against your supple, clothed folds.

The brunette feels a spike of adrenaline, a shock at the idea of actually causing some sort of hurt towards you, his hands slipping with his grip.

It's honestly almost comical.

Feeling Alex's fingers hook into your waistband as he fumbles, yanking down your shorts in an easy motion, fully exposing everything you had to offer up hugged behind your half-off panties. The thin fabric of your underwear was the only thing keeping up any ounce of dignity you had left. You thought it couldn't get any worse? Well it has now.

“Fuck- Shit sorry-” Alex cuts off with a sigh, seeing your shorts pool at the bend of your spread knees, your panties half off of your ass, showing off a peak of your goods, that darker line running down between your cheeks. He swallows again, his hand daring to find itself on your ass cheek, fingers spread and palm flat, shamelessly squishing in an inappropriate grope.

“A..Alex-” You warn, as if you weren't sinking your teeth into your tender bottom lip. He breathes your name back, veiny hands soothing and squishing, exploring over the expanse of your ass, down, down until he hits the drooled-up wet fabric poorly covering your pussy.

You should kick him- Shout and squirm and knock him off of his feet but- Yoba, his touch burned hot, coursing a warm pulse throbbing on the bud of your clit. “P..Please..” What were you begging for? God knows. But Alex snatches up what you put down for him.

He wastes no time, pulling down the elastic of your panties, letting them fall down your thighs, fabric stretching with the spread, nestling nice and pretty with your dangling shorts. You moan out a soft hum, eyes rolling back in the darkness, brain working in overdrive trying to paint the pretty picture. Arched beautifully for him, legs spread so wide, rendered useless in this position, right for him to hold on to, use as some kind of leverage for- Fuck.

You hear a hot spit of his lips and feel a fat glob of saliva land on your folds.

The brunette suckles on his own fingers, coating them up in a thick sheen over saliva, tongue swirling around his own digits at the sight of your bare and supple cunt. He had to get in you, needed it. Needed to feel the velvety wrap of your cunt on- Yoba, anything of his.

He pops his fingers out with a vulgar wet noise, raking them through your drippy pussy lips, only adding to the dribbly wetness between your legs. Another spatter of saliva, thick, spitty and bubbly white, sliding down through your folds like a sweet teardrop. He breathes your name again, head cotton stuffed, barely asking you for permission before he was easily slipping in two of his fingers, knuckle deep right into the doughy swell of your hole.

“Fuck..” He’s a man of many words, clearly. Your slick pools against his knuckles, already forming a thick ring of cream around his fingers. He’s slow at first, marvelling at the way your pussy suckles him in, how warm and supple you were on his digits, so fucking soft against the rough calloused paw of his hand. In and out. In. And. Out. Carefully pushing two fingers into your cunt hole, twisting his wrist to dive them in, soft and slow with a thick curl at the end of his push.

You seem to gasp every time. Soft little noises sucked in and pushed out with each tender curl of his fingers. He can't help but watch in awe, jaw slack and lips parted, sun-kissed face burning into a blush of red. He speeds up, eyes widening at the newfound squelch against his knuckles, echoing around the tiled room.

“A-Alex.. Just- Hahh.. Just fuck me! I need it- please?” Yoba, you don’t know why this was driving you so crazy, never before having the thought cross over your mind- Feeling like some helpless free-use toy. But you were thinking with your gut, the dumb thing connected to the throb of your clit, influencing your sense deprived brain, craving more, more touch more of him. More of Alex.

“Fuck- Okay. okayokay- S’okay m’ gonna fuck you…- gonna fuck you now-” He all but babbled, nervous and fast in tone, completely ignoring the previous pressing issue of getting you out. Now all in favour of drilling himself in.

His cock is quickly freed. Tip dark and angry with arousal, leaking out little pearls of pearlescent precum, crying out for the sweet wrap of your pussy. He jerks himself off, wetting his length with your juices, letting the thick vein throb against the delicious sticky kiss of your cunt. He finds himself tapping his cock over the slick-wet folds of your achy cunt, slap, slap, slap, sliding through your wetness while he jerks himself.

He sighs out in awe at the sweet jumps you give, each flinch and feeble attempt to push back on him. You weren't faring any better in there. Imagination running rampant, stuck in a twisted sensory deprivation chamber, dark and warm, blind to Alex’s actions, giving him surprised jolts and jumps with every touch.

He lets the dark pink mushroom tip of his dick push in, just the tip- Juust the tip – Huffing a short groan when it pops out of your cunt with a dirty-wet sound, forcing the man to grit his teeth tight. He keeps it up, letting the thick, weepy pudge of his cock head catch on your hole, choking a groan behind his teeth every time it slips back out.

You squirm against the confines of your little box prison, about to whine out another beg before Alex beats you to it. His hand holds your hip, nice and steady as if it could move at all right now. He talks you through it, breathing out babbled praises, reassurances, oddly sweet despite the vulgar scene. Ohh, but when he finally sinks into you, pushing deeper, deeper, deeper! Thick tip kissing lovingly at the swell of your cervix, nestled nice and snug in your guts.

“Al..ex..” Yoba, it's the only word you know, it seems. A Chant easily dropping off of your tongue, murmured around the walls of the locker you’d stuck yourself in,

You’re not the only one. Alex can’t help but breathe out your name, again and again falling off of his lips like drool while he sinks into your cunt. Finally, finally feeling the sweet swell of your cunt enveloped the fat length of his cock, silky soft walls hugging on him. You squeeze-

How could he keep his hips still like this? Why bother at all? He surely doesn’t.

The brunette rolls his hips into your ass, rolling his eyes with his own movement, relishing in the gushy snuggle of your walls on his cock. He finds himself mindlessly rocking his thick cock into your silky pussy, humping his hips against your ass like some kind of mutt in heat. His hands wrap around the lovely spread of your thighs, hooking under, using you as leverage and careful as he can, using your pussy like a special toy, tender with his grinding rolls.

He can feel you attempt to give it back, trying your best to hump back on his lap, take him down deeper, kissing your folds on his base, letting those wiry hairs brushed over his lap get all sticky-slick. His mouth falls open at the sight, stringy, creamy, frothy- a mess in his lap all drooled by your cunt, wet pussy kisses with each rolling fuck of his hips.

A heavy breath makes its way through his nose, eyes hyper-focused on the pretty, creamy ring around his length as he fucks his hips against you, watching the mess slowly leak its way onto his pants loosely dropped down his waist. An ache builds in his pelvis, the thick vein pulsing on the underside of his cock.

You felt mindless, stuck in the warm darkness, humid with your own breath, skin tacky and moist, joints aching, back pinching but fuck- You couldn’t care less. Not with the heat between your legs, or the praises and promises babbled by the man behind you. Yoba, especially not with the way he moves to mount up on you, soft fucks turned hearty and thick, clapping hard, pelvis slapping into your ass and pussy.

He fucks you. Holding you nice and steady for his hips to snap, finishing off each and every thrust with a roll to his hips, jabbing the pudge of his tip into the supple, mushy little spot inside of you. Alex eyes the pretty ripple of your ass clapping on his pelvis, whimpering deep in his throat with how juicy and gushy your cunt was on his length.

I was all so much. For both of you-

His hips snap, pace faltering, clapping his hips in heated but sloppy staccatos, dragging his cock out and slamming right back in with a wet smack of his hips. You cry with every thrust, muffled and echoed against the walls of the lockbox, silky cunt squeezing on his tip, babbling his name over and over and over.

“Shit- Babe-!” He throws out the name and fuck, it feels right. It's all over when his fingers dare to come forth, rubbing tight circles into your sticky clit, twiddling with the little thing, making you tighten-

Oh it's a dangerous game, feeling the supple milk of your pussy, squeezing on his length in those sweet pulses while you cream- He has to pull out- Fuck, gotta cum-

The poor guy barely makes it, spilling onto your weepy cunt, jerking himself off over your back, letting ropey spurts of hot cum land in spatters over your skin. Of course he keeps his other hand up, circling your clit feverishly in the same pattern he strokes off his cock, working you both through those tender orgasms you’d brought upon each other-

It’s all hot breaths, panting hard, chest heaving with the comedown. Oh poor you, achy legs still all stuck, sweaty body slippery against the squeeze of metal. Alex notices in his haze, scooping you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky, musky splashes of cum stained over your back. He hushes you, huffing a chuckle into your neck when he finally gets you free!

“Hi..” You groan, falling into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, daring to stretch your legs with a wobbly twitch, cramping hard in your calf.

“Hey.” He blinks, hand already working to soothe your poor muscles, massaging warmth into your skin, on fire compared to the freezing floor tiles.

“So..” The brunette bites into his bottom lip, kissing his teeth with a pondering tut before he turns to properly face you, flashing a teeth-filled, goofy grin.

“How about a bath?”

→ Kinktober Masterlist & Taglist ←

Thank you so much for reading! If you have any thoughts please let me know! I'd love to hear them <3 your words spur my heart on!

Property of : SashiAvi

TagList

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vivwritesfics · 9 days ago

Text

Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash

Chapter Two

With her seat at VCARB gone, she's left with nothing to do but steal her friend's car and tour the US coast. Where she meets a group of Navy pilots. One of them just might make everything better.

Bradley Bradshaw x Verstappen!Reader

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral (fem!receiving)

Chapter One

He was just as strong as his navy friends, that was clear as he carried her into the house. It was as easy as lifting a sack of potatoes as he carried her over to the sofa and settled her on the arm. Her lips were on his thick neck as he pushed his Hawaiian shirt from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered as her hands travelled beneath his white wifebeater, scratching at his skin.

Grabbing hold of her ass, he pulled her flush against him, a growl leaving his lips as her legs wrapped around his middle. She leaned back and leaned up to kiss his cheeks and along his jaw, kissing everywhere but his lips. “Stop teasing,” he groaned and pulled away, stopping her from reaching any part of him.

Wearing a pout on her lips, she pulled at the bottom of his wifebeater, tugging it over his head. Bradley let go of her long enough to take the wife beater off, dropping it on the floor beside his Hawaiian shirt. Her mouth was on him yet again, kissing and sucking and biting at the skin along his collarbones.

“Easy,” Bradley hissed, pulling her from the arm of the sofa and lifting her back into his arms. She pulled her teeth away from him and grinned when she saw her handiwork, leaning in again to fill the space around it with bruises.

He carried her up the stairs effortlessly. She tightened her legs around him and he flexed his arms. At the top of the stairs, he walked her into his bedroom and dropped her onto his bed.

Fuck, he was so big above her, hands on his hips as he stared down at her. She pulled her lip between her teeth as she laid back and stretched her arms up, pulling her shirt up with her. It didn’t show much, just the skin of her stomach.

“Doesn’t seem fair,” he mumbled as he climbed on top of her. She grinned as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, kissing him again. She threw her leg over his hip and pulled him down. A grunt left his lips as his body settled on top of hers, holding himself up by his elbow.

“This better?” She whispered, rolling her hips against his.

Bradley grinned as he looked down at her. His nose nudged at her cheek, tipping her head to the side and giving him access to her neck. A moan left her lips and she rolled her hips again, urging him on.

But then, Bradley pulled back. His hands touched her stomach and pulled her shirt up. He pulled it over her breasts and up over her head, throwing it into the corner of the room. “That’s better,” he said and kissed down her neck, heading towards her chest. His teeth grazed her shoulder and she sucked in a shuddering breath.

Just like she had downstairs, he bit down on her skin. It wasn’t hard, not as hard as she had bitten him, but it still left a mark. Good, he thought as he pulled away to admire it. “Fuck,” he hissed as he let his eyes travel her body.

His eyes zeroed in on her hip. There was something there, ink mostly hidden beneath her jeans. “What's this?” He asked, eyebrows quirking up in surprise.

Her face was hot and she stopped his fingers from popping the button on her jeans. “Don't, it's stupid,” she said quickly.

A smile sat beneath his moustache and he sat back on his knees, hands coming to rest on his deliciously thick thighs. “You know I'm gonna see it eventually, right?”

A glare settled on her face. Reaching down she popped the button on her jeans, unzipped the zip and pushed down one side, letting him see the stupid tattoo that decorated her skin.

“A… chicken?”

Her face was burning as he stared at the little chicken on her hip. The chicken that had been there from the moment she turned eighteen. “It was supposed to be a matching tattoo with my brother, okay? He never got his,” she mumbled and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Was he also gonna get a chicken?” He asked as he touched it.

She shook her head. “He was gonna get a lion. Based on our childhood nicknames,” she mumbled.

“Chicken,” he whispered, a grin on his face. “I like it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled and pushed herself up. “Are you gonna hurry up and take these jeans off of me or what?”

Grinning, she watched as he climbed off the bed. He dropped to his knees and pulled her jeans from her legs, her underwear coming off with it. Pushing her legs apart, he crawled between them. “Does he have a name?” He asked, running his thumb over the tattoo. It was cute, linework in a cartoony style.

She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him even closer. “Talking about my chicken is really not sexy,” she whispered.

It was like he took it as a challenge. His hands gripped her thighs, pushing them apart slightly. His lips found the inside of her thigh and she released a whimper, reaching down to tug on his hair, to tug him towards where she needed him. “Hang on,” he said and began sucking a dark, purple mark into her skin. She squeezed him, fingers still tugging at his hair.

Finally, his lips were on her. A gasp left her lips as he kissed her and didn't do much else. “Fucking tease,” she growled out and tugged on his hair again.

Gripping her thighs, he pushed her further up the bed, his tongue moving through her folds. His nose nudged her clit and she threw her head back. “Holy fucking god!” She cried as her back arched off of the bed.

The fucking moustache. Holy shit, the feeling of it against her pussy was almost too much. She couldn’t hold back the noises she was making, couldn’t stop herself from grabbing his hair and tugging. “Jesus fuck! Fucking fuck!” She cried, thighs clenching around his head, trying to pull him that much closer.

Instead, he pulled away. “You’ve got a filthy mouth on ya,” he said through a grunt and wiped his moustache with the back of his hand.

Sucking in shuddering breath, she stared down at him. “Yeah?” She asked, unable to stop the way her thighs shook. She just needed him to touch him. As desperate as she was for him to do something, anything, she couldn’t beg. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

He stood up straight, looming over her. Fuck, he was so big, body so damn wide. Broad shoulders, thick muscles. He was like something out of a dream. Pulling her closer, pulling her by her hips, he dragged her towards him and pulled her up against his chest. Immediately, her lips were immediately on his. She dragged his bottom lip between her teeth, grinning as she tugged on it.

A groan left his lips. "Shit," he grunted and laid her back. But then he pulled away and stared down at her. "Is this okay?" He whispered, his thumb moving across her thigh.

She swallowed. "Yeah," she answered. "I was kind of, you know, hoping you'd get on and fuck me."

In response, he dropped to his knees. I say drop, he got down carefully, wrapped his arms around her thighs.

His tongue moved through her folds. A whimper left her lips and she tried to tighten her legs around his head, hold him in place.

"Hey," he said against her pussy and pried her legs apart. "Easy now."

Her heel tapped his back and he dove in again. His fingers prodded at her, a single digit pushing in as his tongue moved over her. "Jesus fuck, don't stop," she cried, her head flying back and hitting the pillow.

And he didn't stop. Not until she came on his tongue, legs shaking around his head.

"Holy..." She began through breaths, panting as he pulled away from her. "...Shit."

"That good?" He asked as he stood straight and wiped at his moustache.

She stared at him for a moment, trying to regulate her breathing. "You've got a magical mouth, Bradley Rooster."

His cheeks were red as he stood over her, absentmindedly rutting against her. Not yet inside of her, but she needed that to change.

Her legs locked around his middle. "Stop teasing," she said with a groan.

Neither of them were thinking properly, neither of them were thinking about the consequences of their evening. Gripping his base, he pushed in. Slowly, inch by inch. "Fuck, shit, fuck," she gasped as her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him deeper.

Bradley released a grunt and pitched forward. "Is this okay?" He asked through a breath.

She nodded, gripping him so tight. Her nails dug into his shoulders, holding him as close as she could. "This is okay," she breathed, still nodding. One hand came up to grip his face and she pulled him in for a kiss.

He was a mix of beer and her. She tasted of gin, and it was intoxicating.

He gave a shallow thrust. "How's that?" He asked, jaw clenched.

She nodded again.

Bradley started moving. Gently at first, holding her as if she was precious. But he sped up, hips snapping against her own. She couldn't hold back the noises she released, didn't want to. She held his forearms, digging her nails into his skin to ground herself. "Roos... Roos..." A moan cut her off each time.

He silenced her with a kiss, moustache tickling her upper lip. He didn't need her to call his name to know he was doing a good job, the way her legs were squeezing him, the way her nails were raking down his back. Fuck, he was loving every second of it.

Sweat clung to his skin. He pressed his forehead to hers and released a grunt. "'M nearly there," he whispered and kissed her lips again.

Even when he came, spilled inside of her, he kept going. Going and going until she tumbled over the edge with him. Bradley stilled, forehead still against hers.

Her legs shook as he untangled them from around her. He stepped away, slipped out of her and sat back on her knees. For a moment, he watched her, watched as she tried to come back to herself.

Laying down beside her, Bradley's thumb moved over her cheek. "Are you okay?" He whispered.

Sucking in a breath, she nodded. "Just give me a minute," she mumbled.

Bradley pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. "Take all the time you need.”

Taglist: (for two of you, I've assumed, but please do let me know if you want removing). @fctnllvrs

@mimisweetz

@deep-sea-adventure

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eowynstwin · 11 months ago

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the flood / neighbors

On a cold winter's day in the early morning hours, you knock on your neighbor Captain John Price's door to make a noise complaint. - “All yours,” he says roughly. “Every inch, love.” - ao3

You taste the salt-sweet essence of yourself on his lips as John, still kissing you, hauls you off the chair and against his body, hooking you under the knees and standing to his full height. You should not be surprised by his strength—he’d demonstrated it, after all, that night at dinner—but you are anyway, a little sound escaping the back of your throat like a startled bird. John chuffs, amused, and hoists you upward like it’s nothing at all. He takes you across the room in a few long steps, into the open door of what turns out to be his bedroom.

The details of it—decor, furniture, wall colors—are lost to you as suddenly you’re flying; your back hits the mattress too soon for you to cry out, and then there’s John, dropping his whole body over you and crushing you to the bed.

The full weight of him knocks the air from your lungs. His size has always been apparent to you—he’s always looking down to meet your eyes—but you realize now you had never fully reckoned with his enormity, his solidity. His entire body eclipses yours in its proximity, and exerts so much gravity that the both of you sink deep into his bed.

He kisses you again, hard, hands fisting in the sheets beside your head as he bullies his tongue into your mouth, knocks your knees open to settle his hips against yours. You roll your mons against the line of heat in his trousers, hands finding the divots of his lower back. His skin is softer, it occurs to you, than it has any right to be.

His teeth close around your bottom lip briefly before you push at his shoulders; you half expect him not to move, but he lifts away from you, panting hard.

“I need—” you pant, blood pounding fast through your veins, shaky hands moving to the buttons down your dress, “just—just a minute—”

He only lets you undo the first button before his hands are replacing yours, sure and steady, quick like he doesn’t even need to think about it. Far too quickly for you to prepare for the moment when he’s done, as he parts open your dress to bare your stomach, thighs, and naked pussy.

You want to squirm as his eyes devour you, big hands opening over your bare skin. They travel upward, from navel up to the underwire of your bra, and he looks you in the eye.

It’s supposed to be a question. You can tell that much. But the heave of his chest, the flex of his stomach, the long line in his trousers lend something sharp to his gaze. Something too intent on your consumption to really mean to ask.

A tremble works its way along the back of your neck, and you shuffle up onto your elbows, turning your arms awkwardly to unhook the closure. He takes the shoulder-straps between thick fingers and draws them gently down, more gently than he looks capable of right now. Then the garment is off, set aside somewhere in the ether, and you have to turn your head away from John as he looks at you.

You can only wonder what it is he’s seeing. A body like yours, sedentary, only lightly utilized by daily walks to and from the train station. Domesticated in its entirety. So different from him as to be entirely foreign.

What does he see in you?

Big hands cup the sides of your breasts, push them together as his face lands between them, mouth open, shoved down to your sternum between them. His thumbs flick across your nipples as his tongue delves into your cleavage the same way it had between the folds of your cunt. Your back arches, the same way it had before, mouth dropping open in soundless pleasure.

“Not—”you stammer, “not fair!”

“Mmm,” John rumbles. You search for the hem of his shirt with unseeing hands, pulling it upward, and clumsily the both of you get it off of him, baring his chest to yours. You find the coarse tangle of hair on his pectorals with questing fingers and dig them in, muscles twitching and flexing beneath your touch.

Then John pulls away from you, to your whining consternation. He sits back on his haunches, hair mussed, face and neck flushed.

Looming over you like this, John himself looks larger than life. You can’t fully believe he’s real and here with you now. Everything about him—the trim waist and soft, pillowed chest; the long, strong arms and broad shoulders; the steady line of his mouth and the honed, confident gaze of his eyes on you—is too much. He’s too right, too aligned with what you, in your quietest, most ashamed fantasies, might construct for yourself out of smoke and stardust. It makes your desire uncomfortable, feverish; like a craving that can’t be satisfied even when it is fed.

One big hand returns to your pussy, fingers softly stroking the down of your pubic hair, ghosting too lightly over the slightly parted cleft. Shivers run all over your body, hot and cold at the same time.

“I think I should give my girl one more,” John murmurs, “just so she’s ready for me, hm?”

You despair. “I’m ready, John, please.”

One brow lifts over dark eyes. “Mm.” His fingers press in, slide into the slick still coating your sex, and holding your gaze John pushes one finger into you down to the knuckle. You inhale sharply, feel yourself flutter around the intrusion.

His finger curls experimentally. You jerk on the bed. Without preamble, John adds another finger, and lays his thumb over your clitoris, still tender from his mouth. Your eyes roll back a bit at the stretch.

(Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you marvel. You’ve been here before. Different hands, a different bed. Merely enduring, instead of relishing, though the touch was no different at all.)

His other hand fits itself over your hip, and he works his fingers inside of you with his whole arm, shoulder rolling as he watches your body move and writhe, shuddering like a house during an earthquake. You cant your hips into his hand, more instinct than thought, and that red cherry of heat blooms around his touch yet again.

“John, I’m—” you gasp. “Please, I want you—I want—”

The words keep getting stopped up inside you. You have very little practice asking for what you want, nearly as little as knowing what that is.

But John’s hand slows. He strokes your hip, and withdraws his touch, fingers going to the closure of his jeans. He undoes it as deftly as he had your dress, revealing no briefs underneath; just dark, curly hair, abundant around the base of the cock he withdraws.

Sounding piteous, he says—perhaps more to himself than you—“Gonna spoil you rotten, I am.”

Your hand lifts, and then falls on his thigh bracketing your hips. Shy to touch him suddenly. He’s long, thickest around the middle, and flushed russet at the uncut head, which is pearled with a bead of moisture. John laughs, a short breath through his nose, and takes your hand, bringing your fingers to his length. He’s blazing hot to touch, such that you might have whipped your hand away, afraid of searing your skin, if John wasn’t holding it in place.

“That’s your doing,” he murmurs, stroking the back of your hand. “All you.”

You run your fingers along his cock; you can’t tell if the steady, heavy pulse you feel is the rushing blood keeping it erect, or the twinned flow thrumming in your own veins. The shaft twitches at your touch, the pearl expanding and then, too big to hold its shape, collapsing, dripping and silvery down the length.

“All yours,” he says roughly. “Every inch, love.”

“Please,” you say, barely above a whisper.

John leans over you, cock laying along your stomach as he kisses you hard down into his pillow. You hear him reach out and open the drawer of his nightstand, fishing something out—when he pulls away again, you see he has a condom in his hand.

“Oh,” you say, without thinking. You can hear the disappointment in your own voice, and it surprises you.

John’s eyes flash to you, bright and sharp. “You on anything, love?”

You swallow and shake your head.

He nods. “Then this is what we’re doing. Don’t tempt me.”

Part of you knows it’s an incredibly good thing that he went for the condom both immediately and voluntarily. But another part of you, greedy and selfish, cries out at the deprivation. If this is all for you, you want all of it.

“Will it feel okay?” you ask. “For you?”

John’s gaze is heavy on you. He takes the condom between his teeth, seizes his cock with one hand, and shoves the tip against your clit, precum lubricating the tight circles he bullies it with. Whimpers flutter from your throat; your legs flutter helplessly over the bed.

“Quit worryin’ about me,” he growls.

John grabs the wrapper and gives it a yank, tearing it open, and then spits the torn edge off to the side. You watch as he centers the condom over the head of his cock. You do not expect the spike of heat that shoots through your body at the sight. The latex stretches to envelop him, tight and shiny and thin around the veins and ridges. The end of it does not reach the base.

A shiver works its way across your bare skin.

Job done, he seizes you under the knees and pulls you to him, sliding your rear up onto his thighs. He meets your clit with the end of his cock again, gentler this time, teasing.

“Poor girl,” he rumbles above you. “Been needin’ me since that first time, ain’t ya? I know, it’s hard to ask. Hard to—” and his brow furrows, as he nudges your entrance, pushes in just so you engulf the head. “—Hard to know you’ll get what you want, when you’ve never gotten it, aye?”

Your response is a whisper, an exposed nerve. “Yes.”

Thunder cracks again outside, chasing unseen lightning. John’s hands spread over your hips, slide into the valley between pelvis and waist to hold you steady as, in one smooth motion, he pushes all the way in.

Your mouth drops open—he’s big. Bigger than merely seeing him erect had prepared you for; big enough to fill space in you that you didn’t know you had. There is nowhere inside you that his cock is not pushed right up against, insistent, invading, erasing any place you might hold onto as a refuge.

In response your body tightens around him as if reshaping itself in his construction. John groans low and rough as he gives an experimental roll of his hips, drawing out slowly—your body clutches at him, loathe to let him go, and he makes a choked sound as he works his hips again, and again, thrusting short and hard.

“Like y’were made for me,” tears from his throat, “me n’you, for each other—fuck—”

You crane your head to watch the movement of his body, the undulation from chest to stomach to his hips between yours, the gather of his pectorals between broad arms. His hands tighten on your hips; his mouth hangs open as he gazes down at the connection of your bodies, where you cunt swallows his cock over and over again. His hair, mussed earlier by your clutching hands, hangs disheveled along his forehead, touching the line of one brow.

It’s a moment, you realize, that he’s lost in. Just briefly. The knowledge wraps itself around your insides and squeezes. You’re seeing John, for once, while he is not seeing you. Something about that makes anxiety beat nervous wings in the back of your head; suddenly you feel very alone, just for a moment, and it makes you reach for him, putting your hands on his.

He looks at you then. Eyes sharp and bright. Knowing. Your chest contracts; no, he hasn’t forgotten you at all. His mouth curls; his thumbs rub circles into your stomach. The thrust of his hips deepens, lengthens, drawing the full length of his cock in and out of you, biceps tightening as he moves your body in tandem with his, the round slopes of his shoulder muscles shifting in the dim light.

He watches you watching him. You almost believe he can read your thoughts, simply looking into your eyes.

“I’m right here,” he purrs as he bottoms out, proving you right. “Right where I belong, aye?”

The heel of his palm meets your clit, grinds up and down as the breath jumps from your chest. You arch into it, eyes rolling back, hands flexing futilely, nails pressing into John’s skin.

You feel as though you should be saying something, doing something—some kind of simpering to stroke his ego about how good he feels or looks. Ben had liked that. And now, it wouldn’t even be a lie. But the notion is bitter on your tongue with a different kind of dishonesty. It would feel like trying to be something you are not, performing something you’d once tried to enjoy and failed at.

“I wasn’t very good at this,” you admit to him instead. “Before, with—with—”

He saves you from having to say your ex’s name in bed with him. “Being good at it’s got nothin’ to do with it, aye?” He shifts, lowers himself over you with forearms on the mattress, mouth falling on your temple.

“I just—” you manage, “it just, always seemed like this was supposed to go a certain way—ohh!”

John had pressed deep into you, so deep that he lifted your hips a little with his own. “S’posed to go however you like,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth.

You turn your head so your lips meet his. “What about what you like?” you ask.

He kisses you suddenly like a snake striking. Hard, almost disciplinary.

“I like this,” he growls. He angles his head and kisses you again, deeper. His hands move to dig into your hair, fingers pressing into your scalp. “I’m a simple man, darlin.’ Long as my woman’s under me, I’m happy.”

You shudder at my woman, like a fish caught on a line. “I—I like this too,” you whisper, and it isn’t a lie in the slightest.

His hips grind against you. His mouth moves from yours to the soft, fragile skin of your neck. “I can tell. You’re wet all down my thighs.”

Hot embarrassment sears through you, flash fire after a lightning strike, but still you clench around John with pleasure. You turn your face away from him, covering your eyes with the back of one hand.

“My shy girl,” he purrs against your neck, laving a spot with his tongue. “Fuckin’ adorable, you know that? Drive a man crazy thinkin’ what it’d take to make you scream for me.”

A trembling breath leaves you as John circles his hips, doing interesting things with the angle of his cock inside you. You scratch at his back as he keeps doing it, whimpers tumbling from your lips, and then John begins thrusting in earnest.

He settles the whole of his body onto yours, bricks piling on foundation, pinning you with his weight to the mattress. The whole bed shakes with the power of his hips driving into yours, back and forth, the reverberations so strong that they rock through your entire body. One big hand comes up to tilt your head to the side to give him even more access to your neck. Your perception of the world narrows down sharply, finding nothing important to pay attention to outside of the heat of John’s body. You feel his chest hair against your breasts, rubbing along your sensitive nipples as his whole body moves with the piston of his hips. Shoulders rippling as he puts his back into it.

His mouth falls again on your neck, and this time you feel the clench of his teeth. You swear you can feel every tiny blood vessel break open as he draws your skin into his mouth, and when he’s left his mark, as his hips snap against yours, he moves to the side and bites down again. And then again. Searing lips and knife-sharp teeth. The drive of his cock deep into your cunt, the blaze of it just kissing your cervix. Inside and out, John paints you as his, lays claim to every part of your body that has space for him.

(You wonder, somewhere behind the ache and the heat, how much of you will be left over once he’s through.)

“John,” you gasp out, “John, I need—”

“I know,” he growls, “I know, darling, I’ll give it to you. Just a little while longer. You belong here. I’ll give you everything. Just—mmm—just keep taking it—”

Throughout, the heat that had banked after John finished you with his mouth steadily grows. You had not known pleasure could manifest the way it does now throughout your body, something feverish that shakes you outwards from where his body joins with yours. You feel it echo down every limb, seizing nerve endings all the way to foot and fingertip until you’d swear the lightest touch to your clitoris could set you off, if not for the face that John’s pubic hair crushed against it with every thrust and still left you ever on the precipice.

His teeth close around the delicate skin at the base of your throat. You roll your hips weakly to meet his, nails drawing long, red lines over the broad expanse of his back, keening desperately. This does not seem to encourage him along; he’d spoken the truth, after all. It’s only yours to take what he has to give you, and trust that what he’ll give is exactly what you want.

Thunder lashes again overhead, filling what little room there is left over in your ears beyond the space taken up by the heave of John’s breath and the clap of his thighs against your arse. You are shaking apart beneath him, the borders enclosing what is essentially you breaking open. You need more. You need more of him, even despite the fact that you can barely get your arms around him properly, that his cock inside you leaves no room left over whatsoever.

It is a hunger you feel in your stomach, in your skin, at the base of your throat and in your hands. It’s behind your knees, in the creases of your bent legs that you wrap around him, calves slippery with sweat against his flexing buttocks. And it’s in your head, suffusing your neurons with urgent, blaring alerts that something is missing and you need it right now.

Foreshocks so intense wrack you that you know that John feels them. Sharp, blistering hot sensation catches fire between your thighs, and he adjusts to slide his hand down between you, wetting his fingers with the slick free-flowing between your folds and then laying them along your clitoris. Knees planted in the mattress, he thrusts into you long and deep, to the hilt, and with the rough movement of his hand John floods your body with what it screams for.

It seizes you like the last one hadn’t. Huge and powerful, it shakes you from the inside, and you clamp down so hard on John’s cock that you’re not sure whether you will draw him even deeper or force him out. Your limbs lock up around him, nails press so hard into his back they might break skin. You don’t know—you can’t tell. Your mind is everywhere and nowhere, whited out, every nerve ending hijacked.

There is nothing but the awareness of your own body, as pure sensation, sweet and sharp, courses through every vein and muscle fiber, lighting you up in a blinding flash. It illuminates warrens and niches that until now have been purposefully ignored or completely undiscovered, finds everything you’ve hidden away and exposes it directly to what it only ever knew in the abstract. It leaves nothing untouched by its passing, slamming the outer reaches of your body and subducting back inward, rushing again to center, relentless, unceasing.

“There it is,” John snarls into your ear, “there it fucking is.”

His hips stutter against yours. Your awareness expands to the rhythms of his body as your climax helps him find his own. His muscles tense under your hands, belly clenching up along your own, cock twitching inside you before he buries himself as deep as he can and groans long, rough, and loud, hands tightening on you as he fucks you through it. It blooms hot inside of you, and somehow this notion that your pleasure has catalyzed his whips through you, seizes you again before, finally, you go limp beneath him.

You are empty. Scraped out. Flayed open as the two of you breathe hard, breaths mingling.

John sighs, deep and contented, and props himself up on his elbows. His cock is still inside you, softening—you can feel it—but he makes no move to pull out. He strokes a few sweat-stuck hairs away from your forehead with one big hand. His eyes are very soft on yours.

You’ve never understood what it was about you that made John so happy. But here, now, he is. Far happier than you can understand.

“My girl,” he murmurs, and softly kisses the space between your brows.

And in the eddies of paroxysm, you grasp the truth.

John makes you more than you are. His every glance suggests you hung the moon and salted the sky with its stars; that when you speak, gems fall from your mouth. He anticipates you like the first clear days of spring or the balm of summer rain, welcomes you like a warm embrace in the fall and winter. He casts unknown augury and gleans from you favorable auspices that you have no idea how to find in yourself.

There is another version of you entirely that exists within John Price’s mind.

There must be.

The silence between you is interrupted by another lash of thunder across the sky, so close you’d swear it beats against the roof of John’s flat. It punctuates your shared, labored breaths, and the both of you lay still as it unfolds and then moves off in a rumble.

You begin to tremble beneath him. And John feels it.

“Was gonna offer another round,” he says, “but I think you need a hot bath, hm?”

His voice is so low, warm and comforting. It cottons up your ears, spreads to enfold you—a smothering, heavy blanket. A bead of sweat slips down your jaw; his or yours, you’re not sure.

You nod. You have no idea what expression is on your face right now as he gazes down at you. It must be nothing concerning, because John’s demeanor doesn’t shift to respond to it.

Right?

“Use whatever you need in there,” he murmurs softly, “I’ll turn down the bed.”

Oh. Because you’re sleeping here, then.

The bathroom’s layout is a duplicate of yours in reverse, populated in different places by John’s various toiletries and accented in dark, masculine hues. It’s close enough, though, that it feels strange, strange in the same way that furniture moved only a centimeter away from where it originally was might.

In the bathroom mirror, it’s hard to look yourself in the eye. Surveying yourself in the nude, you half-expect your body to have taken on some other shape. Something sculpted by his hands, things added on or removed, clay extruded this way and that. It would reflect too appropriately the way you feel on the inside; unfamiliar to yourself, a foreigner in your own body.

But no—the only proof of himself that John has left behind are the indentations of his teeth all around your neck. Crescent lines of smaller crescents. They’re going to bruise by morning.

You turn the shower on and step under the flow on shaking legs. The water pressure is good, a bit better than yours, and the hot water bathes your skin with profound relief even as you still tremble. You feel too hot inside of yourself, a pinless grenade with the lever held tightly down. Maybe, if you just stand here long enough, everything inside you will die down, fizzle out, and drain away alongside your rinsed-off sweat…

After some time, John knocks on the door.

“Need a hand in there?” comes his muffled voice.

“I’m almost done,” you call back. You haven’t touched anything, haven’t lathered his bar of soap between your hands. You turn off the water and step out. There’s only one towel available, so you wrap it around yourself and leave the bathroom.

“Better?” John asks, hands squeezing your upper arms.

You nod.

“Good. Laid out some clothes for you,” he says, gesturing with his head. He kisses your forehead and claims the bathroom; the shower starts again.

On the bed, you find a large shirt and what looks like a pair of men’s boxers folded together. Both are old, time-softened. His clothes, obviously; happily provided, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And isn’t it? Isn’t that what men do for their women? This won’t be the first set of men’s clothes you’ve worn; you’ve read this playbook before. You’ve acted your part out as dutifully as you could.

You remove the towel and pull the boxers up your legs, the shirt over your head. It’s a band shirt, from the looks of it, although the graphic on the front is faded enough to make it hard to tell which. The collar is wide, the opening settling mid-shoulder and exposing most of your neck.

Although your shower helped, you’re still trembling. You’d thought to retrieve your suitcase, go digging for your skincare, soothe yourself with the ritual of serum and moisturizer, but just now you want to stop moving. There is something painful happening in your limbs, an ache that treads the same pathways your earlier climaxes had forged. Can orgasms make your whole body feel used up afterwords?

You crawl into the sheets. They’re soft, still a touch warm from the heat of your combined bodies. You shift to the furthest edge of the bed and turn away from the bathroom door.

Eventually the shower shuts off; the door opens, and you hear John’s footsteps behind you. You hear him pick up the towel, dry himself off as he opens drawers, pulls on what sounds like underwear and nothing else. The lamp switches off; he slides into the bed, cozies up to your back. A heavy arm winds around your middle, and his mouth falls on the back of your neck.

“Mm,” he hums, “I think you might be sick, darling. You’re a bit warm.”

You make some noise—you’re not sure what you want it to mean. To your ears, it sounds pathetic, weak.

“It’s alright,” John murmurs, “take care a’you in the mornin’, yeah? Don’ worry ‘bout anythin’, just rest.”

You make another noise.

“Shhh,” he purrs behind you, already sounding halfway asleep, “y’right where you need to be. Where you belong.”

You lay there for what feels like hours. You feel the rhythm of his breath even out, deep and slow, as overhead the storm quiets, moves off.

You have made a terrible mistake.

You don’t understand the shape of it. You can’t grasp why. All you know is that your fingertips sting and your legs ache with prickling energy, and try as you might you cannot get your own breathing to slow down. John’s arm around you feels like vice. You’re hot, far too hot, and he is a blazing furnace behind you threatening to swallow you whole.

You finally have to extricate yourself, digging out of the blankets and escaping his hold. You sit on the side of the bed, the room dim around you, the details murky. You hadn’t bothered to look at the room much before John had turned out the lights. It’s disorienting; you know, of course, that like the bathroom it should be a perfect mirror of your own room, but the furniture is all wrong. The smell isn’t the same. You don’t trust, that if you got up, you wouldn’t knock into something if you tried to walk around.

You bury your face in your hands. You don’t want to feel this way. Why do you feel this way? Nothing bad happened! It was everything you could have hoped for! More! Your body still hums with pleasure even as pain radiates up your stomach and suffuses your chest. So why, when you look back at John, does guilt strike you down the middle?

A question appears like a whale surfacing to breathe.

What does he want from you?

John’s breathing remains deep and even behind you as your bare feet press against the carpet. Your vision has adjusted a little; you can see well enough to get to the door. On your way, you notice that he’s brought your luggage into the room, left it at the foot of the bed for you with your clothes folded on top of it. You unzip your suitcase as quietly as you can, shove them inside, and take the whole thing with you.

You’re coming back, you tell yourself. You’re just taking your luggage over. That’s all.

It’s harder to believe the lie when you make sure the lock on the front door handle is engaged when you close it.

Your home is chilly when you walk in. You step lightly as you move through it, bringing your suitcase to your bedroom, flipping the heaters on. You’re cold now, trembling violently—it had taken you a few tries to get your key in the lock.

For half a moment you think you might start unpacking, but in your bedroom a wave of dizziness threatens to take you to the floor. You sit on your bed instead—you’ll just wait until the shaking stops. Then you’ll go back. You’re sure John won’t mind getting the door again. Leaving it locked is an honest mistake.

Any moment now. Just when you’re warm enough.

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 5 months ago

Text

risky

Summary: The undercover mission with Javier does not go as planned. Not that you're complaining.

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 588

Raiting: E

Warnings: smut (semi public sex, unprotected sex) undercover Javi with a twist, making out

A/N: This interaction has been on my mind all day so please, enjoy this smol baby drabble I might be ovulating

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Full Masterlist // Javier Peña Masterlist

„You always take your undercover work this serious, Agent Peña?“ You whispered against his ear, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth to stop the moan that you desperately wanted to hear him, deciding to moan quietly right against his ear.

One of his arms was wrapped securely behind your back, keeping you close against his chest while his other hand was on the back of your neck, keeping your head close towards his.

For anyone who would find you here in this dark corner of the roof terrace of this club It would look like you were making out.

Which you were.

More or less.

No one would know that you had been sitting on his cock for the last fifteen minutes.

But you were and you weren’t planing on getting up any time soon.

Or at least before he had fucked you full of his cum.

This night had started so innocently. This time the mission was nothing more than having a drink at a bar where the criminals Javier and you had been after for almost a year were supposed to have a meeting at. When they hadn’t shown up after two hours Javier had gotten the call that they had been sighted in another town and Javi and you? Well you had decided that since you were out already, you could have a little fun.

Fun apparently meant getting handsy with you while dancing to some salsa tunes.

It wasn’t long before he led you outside, the hot summer day turning the night almost tropical, leaving you and him to be only a few of the people on the roof.

Nobody spared you a glance when he led you in the darkest corner, having you sit on his lap, his hands both on your ass under the dress you had chosen to wear for the night.

Nobody cared as he pulled at the front of you dress so he could suck one of you nipples into his mouth.

Nobody cared when he pulled your panties to the side, two fingers slipping inside of you while you unbuckled his belt and helped him open his pants to release his cock.

And nobody fucking cared when he had you slowly sink down on his cock out here in the open while the music from the club beneath you shook the floor and at least the four people you had seen when you got here, were somewhere on this roof with you.

„Never know who could be watching. Gotta really sell our story,“ he mumbled against your ear and you grinned, hands in his hair, tilting your head back so you could look at him.

„And what is our story, Agent Peña?“ You asked before you found his lips in a deep kiss, rolling your hips slowly, the length of his cock making you hum against his lips.

„That we’re newlyweds who can’t keep their hands off each other of course,“ he mumbled against your lips thrusting up into you slowly.

„Mmmmmhhhh…. Don’t think three years of marriage count as newlyweds anymore, Javier,“ you grinned down at him and you saw his jaw flex as you clenched your walls around his cock.

„We’re still horny like newlyweds, so who the fuck cares?“ He winked.

„And I wouldn’t risk getting caught fucking in public with anyone other than my wife,“ he kissed you again and you smiled.

„I sure hope you wouldn’t risk getting caught with your dick in anyone else than your wife, baby. Public or not.“

#my fic #a smol drabble #javier peña #Javier Peña x fem. reader #pedro pascal #fanfictiob #fanfic #fan fiction #narcos #narcos fanfiction

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tartagliove · 10 months ago

Text

7:30pm

bakugou katsuki x reader ✧ fluff ✧ 0.6k

These pajamas are extra soft against your skin. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, delighted with rubbing the material between your fingers, as you follow the sound of running water to the kitchen.

Bakugou paints a pretty picture, standing in front of the sink and scrubbing at a dirty pan, muscles flexing under his black tank top. You walk up to him and slip your arms around his waist, leaning your head against the broad expanse of his back. His aggressive scrubbing decreases in intensity and you snuggle more comfortably against him.

“Thank you for dinner, Katsuki,” you say. “It was delicious.”

The food he makes is always delicious. When you returned home from work tonight, the air wrapped you with the comforting warmth and mild spiciness of curry. The bowl Bakugou set before you had been piping hot. The carrots, potatoes, and beef melted in your mouth, settling nicely in your stomach as his food refueled you after a long day.

“It’s nothing.” Your thanks warms him, but he shrugs it off because he doesn’t want you to make it a big deal. As he rinses off the pan, Bakugou asks, “You feeling better now?”

A soft smile grows on your face at his question. “Mhm, eating your food helped. I’m not as tired anymore.”

“Good.”

You shuffle a few steps to the right as Bakugou moves to wipe the bottom of the pan and put it on the stove to dry. A giggle leaves your lips as you walk back to the sink with him, never letting go all the while. He starts on the dishes and you once again relax against his warmth.

If you were looking at Bakugou’s face, you would have seen the softest, calmest expression appear at the sound of your mirth filling the kitchen.

“Ah, wait!” You move to stand beside Bakugou. “It’s supposed to be my turn to do the dishes tonight. I can’t believe you started them while I went to change.”

He snickers as you pout at him. “You snooze, you lose, slowpoke.”

“You suck.” Sticking your tongue out at him, you try to push him to the side with your hip but he doesn’t budge. “Let me clean the rest of these, at least. You cooked tonight, so you should rest.”

“No. Go back to clinging to me like a damn leech.”

You laugh, but then complain, “A leech? At least choose something cuter, like a monkey. Ooh, or a koala!”

Still, you snuggle into Bakugou’s side as he rinses off the plate. He complains halfheartedly about you being in the way, but doesn’t nudge you off him. When he turns off the water and is about to move to dry the plate, you perk up and grab it from him before drying it off yourself. He frowns.

You smile at him sweetly. “Let me dry the dishes, Katsuki, so we can get them done faster. Then I can go back to being your human backpack for the rest of the night.” The last few words make you laugh.

He stares you down, red eyes piercing, before he gives in with a slight nod and turns back to the sink. With running water and the occasional clinking of cutlery forming the melody of the evening, you work in comfortable silence with Bakugou. Soon, the rest of the dishes are clean and tucked away. You get to spend the rest of the evening leaning into Bakugou’s warmth on the couch, dozing off as you watch a baking show together.

requested by @pikatsum for my camping event. reblogs/comments are much appreciated!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #my writing #my writing: drabble #fanfic: bnha #fanfic: bakugou katsuki

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tgms · 1 year ago

Text

fight! — togame jo

you only wanted to try throwing a real punch! too bad your overprotective boyfriend has other plans. (wc: 1k)

“make sure your thumb’snt in your fist,” togame explained from over your shoulder. “line your feet up with your shoulders and put one forward—like that. good girl.”

you stand in the middle of your room, arms up like you’re ready to fight, hands formed into fists (thumbs on the outside!). togame stands behind you, big hands resting on your waist as he guides you to a proper fighting stance.

you giggle at the praise, craning your head back to lock eyes with him. you purse your lips a little, and he sighs before ducking his head down and planting a quick kiss.

“you happy now? if you needa punch someone, stand like this and aim for his nose or kick his balls.”

“mhm. thanks for teaching me, y’re the best,” you grinned back at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “but how ‘bout that reverse arm breaker thing you did? said you’d show me how to do that.”

“maybe next time. no need to worry your pretty head over that,” togame said, ignoring your immediate pout and pressing his thumb into your bottom lip to smooth it out. “lemme take care of all the fighting for you, ‘kay?”

the pout on your face deepened, your body already starting to pull away from togame’s. his grip on your sides tightened slightly and he turned you to face him fully.

“next time, baby,” he sighed out. he could never win against you. “dinner first, then we’ll see.”

you brightened up considerably, arms reaching up to wind around his neck. you planted another kiss on his cheek, laughing slightly at the air he blew on your neck.

“dinner first!” you promised, eyes glistening. “can i pick?”

which is how he ended up here, in an alleyway after dinner with an empty wallet and a group of guys giving him the stink eye. and of course, you with your arm wrapped prettily around his. why you picked a hole-in-the-wall dingy izakaya in the middle of the worst part of the city is beyond him.

“you know them?” you asked togame, eyes following the group of guys who were sneering at your boyfriend.

“had a little scuffle with ‘em last night. don’t worry ‘bout it,” he replied, sharp eyes directed to the supposed ringleader.

“were they weak?”

“very weak. made them eat shit.”

“can i try then?” you stopped midstep, looking up expectantly at togame.

“no,” he shot back quickly, almost cutting you off.

“you didn’t even let me finish!”

“i know what you’re gonna say, baby. and my answer’s no. no fighting for you.”

you stayed rooted in your spot, still a good three-quarters of the alleyway left before you reached the main street.

“if you let me punch one of them i’ll stop asking you to teach me,” you proposed.

“still no.”

“and i promise to stay away from any fights from now on. for real,” you threw in, tugging down on togame’s arm to get him to look at you. “and if i don’t have any cuts i’ll do anything you want.”

he turned his head slightly, eyes staring down into yours in a silent battle. you could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he weighed out the pros and cons of letting you do as you please.

pros: you’ll finally stop asking him to let you fight.

cons: you’re gonna fight.

after a couple more seconds of silence, togame threw his head back and groaned, one hand moving down to snake around your waist and the other coming up to toussle his hair.

“fine. you know i can never say no to you. i don’t wanna hear another word about fighting after this, got it?

you squealed in excitement, hopping up on your tip-toes to plant a smooch right next to his mouth.

“you missed,” he grumbled under his breath, hands flexing against your hips. you hummed, missing his words in your excitement of your first ‘fight.’

“which one should i go for?”

“that one in the front,” togame leaned down, voice low. “apparently their leader but he’s weak as shit. don’t worry ‘bout the rest.”

you beamed up at him again, giving him another quick kiss before practically skipping over to the small group.

“remember, no cuts!” togame called out after you. you didn’t bother replying to him or acknowleding his words. he grinned a bit, at least you listened when he said to never look away from your opponents.

togame stood a few steps away, watching as you exchanged quiet words with the leader of the group and laughing inwardly at the confusion that continued to show on his face, panicked eyes switching from you to togame.

and suddenly a loud crunch echoed through the air and the guy was on his back, uncomfortably laying on bags of trash. a hand came up to cup his bleeding nose while the rest of his group stared in shock, jaws hanging open.

you happily walked back to togame, smile as bright as ever and pride evident in your eyes. you lifted up one of togame’s arms, settling it around yourself as you started walking toward the main street.

“i did good, didn’t i?” you asked, beaming up at togame. the arm around your shoulders shook as he laughed, deep and hearty as always, but with something a little more that you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“so good, baby,” he grinned, pressing his lips to your temple. “you always listen so well.”

his words sent butterflies straight to your stomach, and you couldn’t help the way you squirmed a little in his grasp.

“and no cuts!” you proudly showed off your knuckles, skin just as smooth as before your little fight.

“wow. looks like i get a wish, then,” he grabbed your hand and brought it up for closer inspection, placing gentle kisses on your knuckles after he deemed your skin injury-free. “dinner on you for the next week? or maybe you should take out the ori’s trash tomorrow.”

“no wait, stop,” you said, panic filling your voice. “anything but the trash, jo. you can’t make me!”

he laughed again, that same something still lingering.

“well how about i show you just how good you were today and we’ll call it even?”

notes: i literally want him so bad wtf. talk to me if u enjoyed!

#togame x reader #togame jo x reader #wind breaker x reader #jo togame x reader #wind breaker #wind breaker satoru nii #ᝰ writing

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detachedminxsfics · 2 years ago

Text

Farmhand

Masterlist

Characters: Negan (Dead City) x F!Reader

Summary: When Negan spends a late night out in the barn and doesn't return to his room you go to convince him to turn in for the night, but Negan has other ideas.

Word count: 4K

Warnings: NSFW - Dry humping, fingering, vaginal sex, riding, choking, praise, dirty talk, negan's usual foul mouth, dom negan

A/N: I am so sorry it took me so long to finish this but I hope the wait was worth it, this one got pretty dirty but it's cowboy Negan so it just HAD to be. As they say, save a horse ride a cowboy!

The leaves beneath the soles of your boots crunched with every step, the breeze whistling through the trees as you walked through the forest. Negan was right at your side, as per usual, his eyes occasionally glancing towards you and his head lifting in search of any signs of trouble without the obscurity of the brim of his cowboy hat. You'd been on the road for a few weeks now, just the two of you. You'd first bumped into Negan a few months ago when you arrived at a small farm settlement way out in the countryside, the people there having been kind enough to offer you refuge, and you chose to repay their generosity by helping out on the farm wherever you could. That's when you met Negan. He'd already been there a few months when you first arrived it seemed, the people there having gotten pretty comfortable with him and Negan himself having gotten accustomed to his routine. And from the moment you walked through the doors of that barn and saw him hunched over a hay bale, tattoos on his arms and the muscles flexing with every movement, the veins running up the backs of his hands and forearms and his forehead glistening with sweat, you were hooked. He straightened his back with a groan and grasped the fabric at the bottom of his tank top, lifting the hem to drag the material over his forehead and mop up the sweat that had gathered there, the lift of his top revealing the trail of hair starting from his belly button and stopping at the depths of his toned lower abdomen. Your eyes travelled to the dark curls of hair at his chest, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from the deep v-lines framing his hips sitting prettily above the waistband of his low waisted jeans.

"Oh, hey." The sound of his voice interrupted the way your eyes were shamelessly roaming over his body, and you subtly cleared your throat.

He let go of his top and ran a hand through his slightly damp, dishevelled hair, slicking it in the process.

"I don't think I've seen your face before, you new here sweetheart?" He asked as he bent down and reached for something off to the side.

When he leant back up he had a beige cowboy hat in his hands which he naturally placed on his head.

"Pretty much just got here last night, feeling real out of my depth." You replied honestly, your uncertainty making him shake his head with a chuckle.

"No need, you'll fit right in. And I'm guessing you're already on the right track if you walked all the way over here to see if you could help these fine folks out."

You nodded, and Negan gestured with his head in the direction of the pile of hay he was handling.

"C'mon then, give me a hand with this."

That was all he had to say, and from that point onwards you seemed attached at the hip. Always trying to be on the same job as the other, always offering to be partnered on a supply run, so you suppose it was only a matter of time before you relieved the unspoken tension between the two of you one way or another. Negan's room was only across from yours in the farmhouse so you could hear when he opened and closed the door to his room to settle in for the night, but he hadn't yet. You got up from your bed and peered out the window, the view giving you a nice overlook of the farm. You could see some of the crops that had been planted in a plot of land off to the side and the moderately sized cornfield near the barn, the moonlight from the night sky illuminating the front of the barn enough for you to make out its slightly ajar doors, and a sigh left your lips. Negan. You threw on a denim skirt and slipped on some boots, making your way out of your room and the farmhouse to walk all the way down to the barn, carefully peering into the space in the doors and stepping into it a little. Negan was leaning over the workbench in the far corner tinkering with something. You could barely make him out in the dimness of the barn, small beams of luminescence creeping in through the occasional window. It was as you got closer that you were able to discern the cowboy hat on top of his head. It always suited him.

"Late night?" You said as you stepped into the barn, hay crunching beneath your boots with every step.

Negan lifted his head the moment he heard your voice, his eyes meeting yours. He chuckled and placed the tool he'd been grasping in one hand down on the workbench, straightening his back a little and slightly tilting his hat back to wipe the sheen of sweat that had gathered on his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Yeah, something like that."

He gave a long, exhausted sigh that prompted you to make your way over to him until you stood beside him, your eyes curiously glancing over the workbench for a moment. It just looked like scrap, at least to you.

"What you working on?" You asked, making Negan shake his head with a smile.

"Nothing really, just some piece a' shit car part that I thought I might be able to fix up. I'm not really a handyman typa guy, but I thought I'd give it a shot."

You nodded and then took hold of one of Negan's tanned forearms, the feeling of his skin on yours burning you up from the slightest touch, and gently tried to urge him away from what he was messing with.

"C'mon Negan, it's getting late. You can screw around with that tomorrow." You pleaded with him, but he stood firmly in place as a small laugh escaped his lips, his head tilting a little.

"And what are you doing up this late yourself, hm? Cause something tells me that you didn't wake up just to check whether I made it to my room or not, or are you really all that worried about little ol' me?" Negan teased, the deflection of your suggestion making you laugh.

"Okay smartass, I was already awake. I was having trouble sleeping and I gave up, so I thought I'd come see what you were up to."

Negan raised his brows playfully and placed his hand over the back of the one you were using to hold his arm, slightly holding it in his palm.

"Oh, what kinda trouble?"

You knew he was just avoiding facing the possibility of giving up what he was doing and turning in for the night, but the delay was sure as hell gonna work.

"I get dreams about this...guy."

His eyebrows quirked up even more than they had before, the shit-eating grin on his face widening in an instant and his eyes lit up like a kid on christmas morning.

"Really, just some random guy?" He quipped doubtfully.

You scoffed and tried to drop your hand from his forearm, to which you did, but he kept his hand pressed over yours.

"Yeah, a guy, Negan."

You'd piqued his curiosity, and there was something hidden in your words that had his tongue dragging over his bottom lip.

"Well, what happens in these dreams of yours?" He asked seemingly innocent enough, but it was full of ambiguity.

He reached up with his free hand and swept a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes looking you over beneath that beige cowboy hat still sat proudly atop his head, and the silver of his stubble looking as good as ever. Your eyes filled with something inviting, a coy smile on your lips as you tilted your head.

"Why do you wanna know, Negan?"

He shrugged and feigned total ignorance to the exact reason he was so obviously prying, but the grin on his lips gave him away.

"Can I take a wild guess, darlin'?"

Now it was your turn to be intrigued. Your eyes bore into his, his hand still holding yours and your line of sight occasionally getting carried away and landing on his lips before returning to his gaze. You nodded. In a calculated movement Negan gently closed his hand around the top of your throat and guided your lips to his, your lips crashing and allowing you to feel his mouth against yours. You couldn't help but moan into it, eyes fluttering closed as you tasted him. His other hand found its way to your waist to pull you in closer whilst he licked your bottom lip in an attempt to coax your lips apart, and you did. His tongue slipped into your mouth, your tongues entwining for a moment until you pulled back just enough to break the kiss, lips still barely brushing and your breath shaky as you struggled to find air.

"So?" Negan cockily teased as to whether he had nailed the nature of your fantasies yet or not, and while he was well on his way to getting there, he hadn't just yet.

"Not quite there yet, cowboy."

He paused for a moment before he let out a small, throaty chuckle. He moved his hand from where it had been resting on your throat and reached down to hoist you up by your thighs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and your arms wrapping around his neck. His lips captured yours once more as he brought you to the workbench and rested you on it, one of his hands sliding up to hold the nape of your neck and deepen the kiss, his groans spilling into your mouth as you tightened the grip of your legs around his hips to bring his clothed bulge against your panties; your skirt having rode up when he lifted you and now bunched at your hips. He broke the kiss and gave a small grunt as you rolled your hips slightly and created some friction, his hand reaching down to rest just above your knee and then slowly glide up your thigh, an idle grip in his hand as he did that caressed your skin as he went. Negan's hand continued even when it reached the denim of where your skirt had gathered, his hand slipping under your skirt and giving the very top of your thigh a squeeze before he moved his attention to your panties. A small gasp escaped your lips as his index finger teasingly traced a line through your clothed slit, the thin cotton damp and clinging to your cunt with how much you'd soaked your panties from the mere feel of his lips on yours.

"Damn baby, you're so fuckin' wet." He whispered gravelly against your lips, his mouth so close to yours you could feel his hot breath fanning against your lips as he spoke.

"Please." You practically choked out, your small plea making his lips curve into a dirty smile and move your panties to the side.

"Yes ma'am." He husked.

He dove beneath the fabric at the side of your panties and slid one finger in at first, the sensation making you throw your head back until you were resting against the wall behind the workbench, Negan's hand still holding the nape of your neck. He pumped his finger inside you a few times before adding a second digit, the slight stretch around his fingers making you moan and lift your head to meet his eyes again. He had that damn cowboy hat still sitting on his head as he fucked you with his skilled fingers, moving his fingers in and out of you at a fast, pleasurable pace that you could barely comprehend, your moans gradually sounding more like whimpers. His eyes bore into yours, the glazed-over look of dark lust they were filled with making you spread your legs a little further and angle yourself to get his fingers deeper. He curled them slightly as you did, the immediate unrestrained whine that would follow becoming muffled against his lips as he pressed them to yours, the hand on the back of your neck allowing him to deepen the kiss and his fingertips slipping into your hair to comb through the strands. Every touch left you feeling breathless, every pump of his fingers further clouding your mind until you could no longer care for the dangers of getting attached to someone like this in this ruined world. You had wanted Negan since the moment you saw him, and now you had him if the way his fingers were buried in you was anything to go by.

"Shit, I could listen to those pretty noises all day, sweetheart." Negan whispered against your lips, purposely curling his fingers as he did to draw another sweet moan out of you, and you knew you weren't going to be able to take this any longer if he kept this up.

Unfortunately, Negan seemed to pick up on that too. He removed his fingers from you much to your verbalised dismay, lifting his hand and slipping the two fingers glistening with your wetness into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the tattoos on his knuckles and a pleased hum of approval escaping his lips as he tasted you.

"You're as delicious as you look, y'know this farm girl get up is really doing it for me." Negan commented as he withdrew his fingers from his mouth, and you were starting to think that you might have passed out in your bed and this was another one of your dreams after all.

"Oh? I bet I feel as good too." Such crude words sounded so good coming from your mouth, the sudden confidence making his brows perk up in a mix of surprise and twisted curiosity.

"Is that so? Hell, now I gotta know."

He removed his hand from your hair and reached up your skirt to hook his fingers into the waistband of your panties and begin working it down your legs, tossing them aside when he had gotten them off the ankle they'd tried to dangle from. His hands were quick to work at his belt, the metal of his belt buckle clinking slightly once it fell loosely on either side of his fly, to which he was quick to unbutton and undo the zipper on his jeans. Negan was so impatient he didn't even bother to get his pants off, he just worked them down his legs until the denim pooled at his feet, his boxers next to join the pile. Once his top was hurriedly discarded too his hands found their way to the tops of your thighs as he dragged you to the edge of the workbench and stepped into the space between your legs, his eyes locking with yours as he pushed inside you and used the grip on your hips to further guide you onto him. The stretch was incredible, your mouth falling open and a noise you weren't sure you'd ever even heard before spilling from it.

"Is that better, baby?" Negan cooed, your only response being the frantic nod of your head.

His thrusts started off slow giving you time to get used to the feel of him, his breath getting heavier and small grunts forming in his throat with every thrust, and then he reached up in an attempt to remove his cowboy hat.

"Don't you dare." You playfully warned as you snatched his wrist to stop him making Negan chuckle and lower his hand again.

"Alright alright, guess the cowboy hats stayin' on."

You closed your legs around his waist again as he started to move his hips a little faster, locking your legs around his waist and tightening your grip every time he thrust as deep as he could go, the sensation making Negan screw his eyes shut and throw his head back slightly exposing the vein running along the side of his neck and the way his adams apple protruded from his throat. You flattened your palms against the wood as you leaned up and started kissing your way down his throat starting with the underside of his jawline, lightly running your tongue over the lump in his throat once you got to it.

"Fuuuck honey, you're gonna be the damn death of me." He sighed, his head lowering to look into your eyes when you pulled back after placing a kiss above his collarbone.

Dark hair adorned his chest, an intricate skull tattoo situated to one side as his chest rose and fell at a rate almost as fast as yours. You couldn't help but run your hand down his chest, his skin burning red hot against your warm palm.

"Well shit, I'm not as young as I used to be." Negan quipped breathlessly with a small smile as his hand moved to cup one side of your face, his thumb stroking along your cheek.

Your hand affectionately raised and settled over the back of his, though the intent in your words was not as sweet as your gesture.

"Get on the table then, cowboy."

You barely gave him time to react as you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him down, flipping as you did so now you were straddling him. He landed on the wooden surface with a small thud, a cocky laugh filling the air as you braced your hands onto his shoulders while he straightened his back, one hand pressing in on your waist and the other on your lower back to help you get comfortable on his lap. You adjusted slightly until you were sitting on your knees, legs resting on either side of him and hovering over his lap. His hands grasped your hips as Negan guided you down onto his cock, the angle allowing him to fill you up much more than before and the feeling of fullness once you fully sank onto him nothing short of pure ecstasy. You clung to him and tried to even out your breath, your eyes locking with his as he reached up and gently took hold of your jaw only to lift his hips a little, a sick smile spreading across his lips as his tongue swept over his bottom lip and a desperate whine came from your lips.

"Go on then my little cowgirl." He drawled, his thumb tracing across your bottom lip.

You started to roll your hips as you lifted yourself up and then sank all the way back down onto him, the sounds the two of you were making and the noise of skin slapping against skin filling the thick air of the barn, only worsening when you found a rhythm that Negan only made that much more euphoric as he lifted his hips in time with you. Negan's hands moved to cup your ass as you started to bounce, the workbench rocking from the force and banging against the wall behind it, his fingers dug into your skin hard enough to leave marks.

"God, you feel so fucking good bouncing on my cock." He rasped, the dirtiness of his words only fuelling you that much more as you rode him.

Negan wrapped his hand around your throat as you bounced on top of him, his grip firm as he squeezed just enough to allow the lack of oxygen to bleed into the immeasurable pleasure, the veins in his hands prominent as he lightly choked you. The hand cupping your ass kneaded your cheek before he drew his hand back and delivered a harsh slap to your ass, your skin stinging from the impact and the surprise of it drawing a small squeak out of you. Negan chuckled as you did and slapped the same cheek again a little harder than the first, though this time the noise that came from your lips was more of a depraved cry. He was surely leaving his mark on you, embellishing you with a stark red handprint on your now sore skin.

"Good girl." He crooned.

His praise alone almost sent you over the edge, your legs starting to quiver as he wrapped his arm around you and started to thrust into you relentlessly, pounding you as you hover over his lap.

"Negan, oh fuck." You choked out, your pleasure filled sob muffled when he crashed his lips against yours and continued to fuck into you mercilessly, the arm around your waist keeping you pressed firmly against him.

"That's it, baby, that's it." He whispered throatily between kisses, and that was all you needed.

Your lips parted but no sound came out, just your breath catching in your throat as your orgasm washes over you, the sensation knocking the strength right out of your legs as your knees buckled leaving you fully sitting on him. Finally, the moan tore from your throat as he gave a few more hard thrusts while you tried to ride out your high, his eyes half-lidded with lust when he slid his hands down to grip your hips and lift you off him so he could spill onto your inner thigh, a guttural groan leaving his lips whilst warm droplets splashed on your skin. Still catching his breath Negan removed the cowboy hat and ran his hand through his hair, placing it off to the side so he could lay back onto the workbench, the way you were pressed to his chest bringing you with him. You let your head rest against his chest and could hear the way his heart was racing against your ear, your breathing starting to even out as you briefly closed your eyes and focused on it, his chin resting on top of your head all the while. After a moment you felt his fingers combing through your hair while his other hand moved to rest on the small of your back and draw circles.

"Hey." Negan muttered softly prompting you to look at him.

You lifted your head to comply with his unspoken request, a kittenish smile playing on your lips as you moved slightly further up his body so that your face could hover above his, propping yourself up on your elbows. Some of your hair fell to obscure one side of your face as you did which Negan reached up and tenderly swept behind your ear.

"You are so beautiful, sweetheart." He whispered, the flattery only making your smile a little wider as you leaned down till your lips were mere inches from his.

"And you are one handsome cowboy." You playfully hummed, barely able to finish what you were saying as Negan pressed his lips against yours, the kiss much slower and fervent than the sloppy and heated ones you'd shared before.

You were just basking in the company of one another. The feel of your body laid on top of his and his skin hot against yours, the feel of his lips moving on yours making your mind even foggier with need for him. You didn't care that someone might wonder why neither of you had made it back to your rooms in the middle of the night, that someone might come to find you both draped over a workbench and tasting one another to your heart's content. All that mattered was that you had each other.

"And that was one hell of a ride, might I add." Negan pulled back to joke, your noses still brushing from the closeness and his crude comment making your laughter come out in the form of a snort.

"Shut up."

And your lips were on his again.

#negan #negan smut #negan smith #negan twd #negan fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd negan #twd fanfiction #twd fic #the walking dead negan #negan x reader #dead city negan #dead city

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seriesxwriting · 1 year ago

Text

Let me show you who I really am

Pairing- Kol Mikaelson

Series- vampire diaries

Summary- usually you’d get quite a few boys ask you to prom, but not this year. Apparently they were all scared of your admirer who wanted you all to himself.

Warnings- kissing, vampire killing, mentions of blood, detailed description of killing.

“I can’t believe it was over a month since I posted- I apologise! I will try to be more active but sitting A levels has apparently hindered my ability to come up with ideas. Just bare with me <3”

It was finally the day of our school prom. I’d been stressing about what to wear, how to have my hair, what colour to use on my lips. But the biggest thing I was stressing about, was who I was going to go with. It’s not a flex but in the past I’ve had multiple offers from boys to go to dances or gatherings. But this time, nothing. Not one offer. I even went out my way asking hector wathe to come with me, seems we’d gone to a dance together last term. But he just shook his head and ran away from me. I would have been embarrassed if I wasn’t consumed with confusion about his behaviour.

So I gave up on the date thing, assumed I’d be going myself. But my girl’s picked me up, ditched their dates so they could come with me. Prom was about friendship anyway. Not a random boy I’d forget once I made a life for myself.

“Y/n? Is that you?” My mother called as I walked through the door. I smiled as she entered the hallway with a giant box in her arms. “This came for you sweetheart” she edged over to me passing the box into my arms. “What is it?” I questioned frowning. “We haven’t opened it, it’s private” she shrugged staring at the box. I could see her mind was racing with the possibilities of what could be inside. “Thanks mum” I swallowed joining in with her thinking myself. Who was it from. What was in it. I carried it up the stairs as my mum filtered back into the living room to watch whatever was on the tv. I put the box on my bed and then lifted the lid off it, curious about the details. There was a note on top of the white tissue paper.

“Saw this and it reminded me of you, thought you’d look good in it, like you do in everything” I whispered as I read it out to myself. My eyes flicked down to the bottom “from Kol” my eyes widened at the three letters of his name. Kol? Why would Kol send me a dress? What game was he playing? Sure id noticed his eyes lingering on me for a while too long before and noticed how his deep eyes compelled me to stare into them until I melted. But that doesn’t give him a reason to send me a dress. I placed the card on my bed and unwrapped the tissue paper. I pulled out this gorgeous emerald dress. It had a silver strip coming from the waistline all the way down the sides of the leg spilt. It looked as if they’d put the gems on by hand, one at a time taking precaution not to ruin or snag any part of it. The dress was slightly off the shoulders which would make my chest look great.

It was overwhelming. It must have cost a fortune. But here it was in my house, lying on my bed. All because of Kol? A Mikaelson was showing me more interest than any of the boys from school. He was supposed to be a sworn enemy, and because of that, I folded the dress back up and put it back in the box. I already had a dress. It was a lot simpler and less expensive but it was mine. And it wasn’t gifted to me by a deranged, gorgeous psychopath. No I meant a deranged, bloodthirsty, psychopath. Not gorgeous. I couldn’t have meant gorgeous. Putting the note back, I lifted the box putting it under my bed where no one would find it. I’d give it back to him if I ever got the chance. It wasn’t right to keep it let alone wear it. Plus I was running out of time overthinking this, I had to get ready.

I curled my hair after my shower and put on my red dress. It didn’t have sparkles on it, but it did have a cute leg slit and a nice tied up back. “Mum!! Can you come and do me up!!” I yelled out of my room. A minute or two later she came plodding up the stairs. She stopped in front of me smiling and her eyes filling up as she raised a finger to wipe her tear. “Oh y/n you look so gorgeous” she whimpered walking over to hug me. “Thanks mum” I whispered nuzzling my face into her neck with a grin across my cheeks. “Come on, let me tie the back” she smiled ushering me over to the mirror. “Oh- y/n have you noticed this rip?” She blinked looking at the back of me. “RIP?! Where!!” I turned around trying to have a look in the mirror. “Here?” She pointed looking stressed herself. “Oh god- what am I going to do- can you fix it?” I blinked at her in utter panic. “No- well yes- but not in time for your prom” she shook her head having a closer look at it. “Come on, I’ll need to work fast, you’ll only be a little late, take it off” she patted me on the back but I eyed the box sticking out from under my bed. “No- no it’s okay, I’ll wear something else” I blinked, not taking my eyes off it. “Something else? What else do you possibly have to wear to a prom?” She raised an eyebrow following my eyeline.

“I’ll meet you and dad downstairs, give me ten minutes” I smiled rubbing her shoulder. “Alright…” she trailed off leaving my room full of confusion. I didn’t move. I swallowed staring at the box. Would it be completely wrong to wear it? I had nothing else I could wear. Surely my friends would understand. I sighed walking over to it, clipping on the floor in my black heels. Taking it out from under my bed. I held it up over my body looking at it in the mirror. I put my head on one side thinking for a second. Before removing all the thoughts out of my head and putting it on. I walked down stairs to my parents sitting in the front room. Their eyes widened as I walked in. “Y/n! That dress is stunning where did you get it?” My mother gasped covering her mouth with her hand.

“It was a gift” I bit my lip not wanting to say anymore. “You look amazing darling, you’ll be the best dressed there” my dad smiled at me. With that the door bell rang. “That must be the girls” I smiled rushing out as fast as the dress would let me go. But when I opened the door the girls weren’t there. Kol was. He stood with his famous smirk, his hand held a big bunch of roses as his eyes looked me up and down. “So I was right, it does suit you” he joked, my jaw was ajar now staring at him. “What are you doing here- why are you wearing a suit and- why do you have flowers- why did you send me a dress?” I hissed coming outside closing the door so my parents wouldn’t hear us. “Because I’m taking you to prom” “erm- no you’re not!” I scoffed almost laughing. “You don’t have a date? So why can’t it take you?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“There are a number! Of reasons why you can’t take me to prom kol” I laughed before the realisation sank in. “How the hell do you know I don’t have a date?” I whispered frowning at him. His brown eyes slimmed on me as his smirk widened. “I may have sent out a message to some guys- that you were taken” he shrugged his shoulders. “What?” I blinked in disbelief, my breath hitched. “I want to take you, I don’t want other guys putting their hand on you” he told me slamming his eyebrows down. “You’re serious?” I asked him in a quiet voice. “You’re a vampire kol- you’ve hurt my friend- not only that you’re an original…” I trailed off holding the door handle. “And what?” He shrugged laughing. “I’m here aren’t I? I’m not lying I’m not causing trouble- a vampire can’t admit his feelings for a girl?”. “Feelings? For me? I’m just an ordinary human Kol” “you’re not ordinary y/n- you’re different from your friends, different from all humans” he smiled staring into my eyes. “How” I slimmed my eyes at him shaking my head not believing a word that came out of his mouth.

“You think you can put me on the spot y/n?” Kol chuckled to himself. “The way you carry yourself, the way you stick to your morals, your loyalty to those you love, your way of seeing the best in people even if they have hurt your friends- you’re out here talking to me, you could have stayed in your house in the safety- so you must be slightly intrigued or trust me slightly- just give me a chance y/n” he put his head to the side as I consumed everything he dumped on me. “I will protect you- treat you right- I just want a chance to show you who I really am, I don’t want anything more to do with klaus and his mess- let me show you that” he begged, I saw it in his eyes. He wasn’t lying, if he was he was a damn good lier. I wasn’t wearing vvraine so he could have compelled me but, he didn’t. “Okay- you have one night to make me feel anything but uncomfortable around you” I raised my eye brow at him reaching out for the flowers. I smiled at them clutching them between my arms. “I’m gonna grab my bag and text the girls to meet me there- you can wait here” I told him with a little smile warming up to the idea of Kol Mikaelson liking me. If he was a normal boy this would be so much easier, he was attractive- he was gorgeous. But he wasn’t normal, he’s a vampire who’s been around 1000 years longer than me.

I did as I said I would before saying goodbye to my parents. I met Kol outside his car where he opened the door for me before getting in his own side. He drove us to prom while keeping up basic conversation, which just intrigued me more. I wanted to know what he was up to. We got to the prom location in under twenty minutes. When no one was looking Kol vamp ran round to my side and opened my door for me. “Kol!” I hissed shaking my head. “Don’t do that you could get caught” I whispered as he put his hand out for me. I took it gently. “They wouldn’t be alive very long if they did catch me darling” he whispered in my ear as I stepped out. “I don’t want any killings here tonight, or I’ll never forgive myself” I widened my eyes at him. “Yes mam” he smirked leaning in closer to me. There wasn’t much room between my back and the car or my front and kol. “I can hear your heart racing darling” he whispered tucking my hair behind my ear. “Don’t worry, I won’t kiss you until you ask me to, and you will” he winked before stepping back and putting his arm out for me.

“You’re delusional” I giggled rolling my eyes taking his arm. We walked towards the enterance and kitty Renfeild stood outside with a camera. “Hey y/n- and y/n’s handsome date” she winked at Kol who completely blanked her without him even knowing I was looking at him. His arm wrapped around my waist and he whispered “going have to get a little closer now love” he pulled me into his body. The flick of jealously I felt from kitty’s comment was what I blamed my actions on. I pressed my body against him putting my other hand on Kols chest. I heard him chuckle as I posed for the photo. “Have fun” she told us after snapping the photo and in we went. There were lot of people here even though we were maybe ten minutes early. There were flashing lights and drink tables everywhere. People were already dancing to the shit music playing. “Has Kol Mikaelson ever been to a high school prom?” I asked him smiling up. “Oh I’ve been to my fair share of dances, balls and whatever was going on in the 1920s but never a prom” he laughed catching my eyes. “And I’ve never had such a gorgeous date to attend any of these events with” he winked. “Quite the charmer ain’t you” I nudged him gently.

“Y/n? What’s this all about?”. I look up and see Elena, Bonnie and Caroline all staring at me like I’m an alien. Or, staring at Kol like he’s an alien. “Hey girls…” I trailed off as my heart started pounding. Kol clearly picked up on it because his grip round my waist became tighter. “I can explain, I have a thing for y/n- have done ever since I laid my eyes on her and i decided now was the time to tell her” “what” Carolin blinked in horror. “He’s a Mikaelson y/n” Elena widened her eyes at me. “He doesn’t want to be involved anymore” I shook my head at her hoping they’d find some way to look at this differently. “You can’t trust him- he’s a vampire” Bonnie hissed at me, her face pulled into disgust. “Well that’s why I’ve braught him- to see if I can trust him” I told them with a little bit of a shrug. The girls all looked round at each other. “I’m done with all klaus’s shit, I want to prove that- not necessarily to you guys but to y/n” he told them blankly. “I’m sorry y/n, but I don’t like it” Elena stepped back before rushing off into the crowd. Kol rolled his eyes at her “she’s always so dramatic”. “I…” Caroline trailed off not knowing what to say in this situation.

“I’m going to get some air, will you be alright for a second” I tapped Kol on the bicep. “Yes gorgeous” he nodded brushing my hand with his. That made me smile. Even within this mess. My friends hated the idea of me and Kol being together, on a serious level. Elena was ready to cry about it. But what made it worse was the fact that I thought I was really starting to like him. He was charming, he was handsome, he was bold and confident. He was my type. I made it outside to the side of the tent and took a deep breath. I had two options here, to lose my friends and continue on with Kol- or leave him now. And that was a hard decision. “Y/n, i didn’t expect to see you here”. I whipped around seeing klaus standing opposite me. He had a girl in his arms and blood was dripping all down his chin. Her neck had been torn open. Klaus’s eyes illuminated orange as fear spread across my face. “Klaus- what have you done…” I whispered blinking at the lifeless girl.

“I came to create a massacre, I’d say I’m going to start with you but I’ve already started” he chuckled throwing the body on the floor. Klaus walked a few steps towards me while I took a few back hitting the tent behind me. “Why are you doing this?” I gasped as he vamp ran in front of me. I could smell the blood that was smothered across his mouth and T-shirt he was that close. “Because i simply can” he smirked reaching out for my hair. I pushed his hand away from me scrunching my face up. “That was stupid” his eyes lit up again as anger starting to corse through his veins. I saw his jaw tighten emphasising his anger. “It was stupid to come out alone anyway” he grunted and my last thought was about to be ‘klaus is right’. As he lunged forwards towards my neck his body got ripped away from me and he flew backwards hitting a tree with a thud. I pannted looking around before finally seeing my hero. Kol stood there scowling at his brother who was in the process of standing up. “She didn’t come alone brother” Kol raised his eyebrows. Once klaus stood up he flicked his eyes between us assessing the situation.

“A human?” Klaus chuckled from a distance. “I thought you were into witches” “I thought you were into Caroline but we all know how that worked out” Kol walked closer to me standing in front of me as if he was a shield. “What are you playing at Kol?” “I like her, and you aren’t going to touch a hair on her head without going through me” Kol answered folding his arms across his chest. Klaus laughed, it went right through me making my blood boil. “I could easily get through you” “so do it” Kol shrugged letting his arms lose once again. “I’m sure we will see each other real soon little brother” klaus nodded before vamp running away into the forest. Kol turned around and came to me fussing and checking I was okay. “Kol! I’m fine- do you realise how many people you just saved” I questioned almost weak from the shock of his protection. “I don’t care y/n, you are my priority, when you’re with me you will be safe I’ll make sure of it” he told me brushing a finger down my cheek. I felt my cheeks going red. He made me feel emotions I’d never felt towards a guy before.

I pushed my body against his and wrapped my arms slowly around his neck gently pulling his head down to meet mine. Our lips met, gently at first but then Kol gripped my waist, pulling me even closer to his body. There’s something about almost dying that makes you do crazy things. Life is short, and I want to try life with Kol. No matter the repercussions.

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