#and then that's it that's the size of your fabric

[neopuppy]

Agora Hills (M)

pairing. step-dad Johnny x step-daughter female reader

genre. arrest me daddy officer AU, cop Johnny, angst, M/F, pwp, one shot

warnings. age gap(y/n: 18, Johnny: 38), y/n is manipulative(and has extremely unhealthy coping mechanisms), multiple hook ups, death mentioned, y/n dealing with the loss of her mother by acting out, peeping, boxer-brief snatching, side characters: Jaemin Jeno Jungwoo, this gets pretty nasty. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

word count. 16k+

now playing. Agora Hills//Doja Cat

smut warnings. dom/sub dynamics, masturbation, stepcest, loss of virginity, heavy on size difference, daddy kink/use of ‘daddy’ + pet names, dry(wet) humping, fingering, face fucking, face slapping, squirting, possessiveness, overstimulation, spitting, choking, handcuff use, multiple orgasms, sex in public, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding, etc

—————————————-

There’s no denying how hard this year has been, each day feels more and more like a battle. It’s hard to wake up, hard to put a brush through your hair, hard to bother with putting away your laundry. Little things really, they feel meaningless, everything generally feels meaningless.

“Hey, it’s already half past noon and you haven’t eaten anything yet.”

Concern rings between each word, dragging your body to the side to blink your eyes open and peer over to where he stands. There’s those same eyes that droop at the corners, never bright or optimistic anymore. They used to hold a softness, love, adoration, never toward you romantically, but still enough to make you feel special. 

You are special to him though, that’s why he’s concerned. Even when he has to look away, maybe because you remind him too much of her. Of the woman you both loved more than anything, the loss you both continue to suffer from. 

“Not hungry.” You mutter, pulling your blanket on tighter as soft fabric rubs against your hips and sets off warmth between your chest.

He sighs, head knocking on the door frame. “You know, I won’t let you deteriorate, your mom would—“

“Mom’s not here.” You say, cutting him off. A small pang of guilt hits when he nods solemnly, chin tucked to his chest without looking at you again.

“Fine. Have it your way.” Letting go of your door handle, he shrugs and shakes his head. “I’ll leave my card and cash out on the counter if you change your mind and get hungry later. Have to get ready for work, I’ll be home late so don’t.. worry about me.”

You’d be lying if you said you won’t worry. You always worry. Always fear the thought of receiving a late night call that he didn’t make it, that he’s on his deathbed hooked up to life support leaving his fate in your hands. Instead you nod and barely raise your fingers out of your blanket to wave goodbye.

It’s always the same routine when he has these night shifts. Pester you about eating, about getting some fresh air, doing something productive with your free vacation time, just being a damn nuisance you don’t want to deal with. You have to get through it, act like you don’t care too much, keep up a calm facade despite the anxious way your heart begins to race.

It’s been weeks of planning, trying to figure out what it would take to make your sweet nurturing step-father finally snap. 

Jaemin: Swing by to get you tonight around 10?

Yeah. That should be late enough, and from the clues you’ve gathered, you know exactly where to go.

The sound of the shower turning on from the master bedroom alerts your ears, jumping out of bed and into your slippers to tiptoe down the hall and twist your mom’s key through the lock to allow yourself in. It’s lucky you’d found it mixed in with a bunch of her items, making it easy to pocket and hide in case you’d ever need it.

He’s already inside of the shower by the time you’ve rounded the corner and crouched down by the connected bathroom door. It gets steamy, but the glass still clears up enough to take in his long muscular legs, sleek lean back, thick arms curling up to run shampoo through his hair.

It’s different today, having to cover your mouth to hold in your gasp when you spot him leaned back against the wall. His eyes are shut tight, sharp eyebrows furrowed together frustratedly, arm jerking furiously. The fog clears up along the glass with each hit of water, making the view of his large hand stroking up and down his length vividly clear. 

To your surprise, he never brings anyone home. Many would consider him to be a young handsome eligible bachelor still, a good career, attractive face, fit body. You certainly wouldn’t be shocked if he decided to start dating again. The sad truth is you often find your step-father still mourning the loss you both took. He cries through the night, wakes up with swollen eyes and dark circles, he plays it off and puts on a smile for your sake but his pain is evident. 

It’s hard to watch him struggle. The way he pulls on his cock seems painful, writing his internal guilt with each whimper and groan that squeezes from his tucked in lips. He doesn’t want you to hear him, he doesn’t want to experience pleasure through his pain. Doesn't think he deserves it.

You wonder what brought this on, what set him off enough to finally break the silent celibacy pact you assume he’s held himself accountable to. Today’s different from the way he barely touches his cock whenever washing suds off his body, scrubbing himself clean in such a robotic way without any expression. 

Sliding onto your knees, you have to adjust the oversized boxers hanging from your hips, rolling them up tighter to squeeze around your middle. He hasn’t mentioned anything about his underwear going missing yet, hasn’t had the nerve to question you about the different items from his closet that he can’t recall seeing for weeks now. It’d be too weird to suspect his step-daughter of invading his privacy and personal belongings while at work. 

Johnny’s always been too nice to ever think you could do anything wrong. Not you, not with the angelic side of yourself you grace him with. It’s almost too easy messing with him, rolling around on his freshly washed sheets when he leaves for work, spraying his cologne on your pillows to feel closer to him.

He won’t say anything even if he notices a familiar print of his underwear peeking out from your pajama bottoms.

“Shit.” You murmur, pushing back on your legs to inconspicuously crawl your way out before he can exit the bathroom. Too fast to sneak out to take in the evident failure pulling his cheeks down into a frown.

Johnny’s lonely, he’s real lonely, and you can fix that. You want to fix that.

A knock rasps down your door minutes later, halting your hand from traveling past the waistband of your stolen boxers after burrowing back inside of your bed. “I’ll be heading out now, if you need anything I’m only a phone call away.” 

Staying silent for a moment, you decide to get up and listen at the door for his breathing. Keeping your movements light enough to not make the floor creak as you make your way over. His breath comes out evenly, fingers tapping a couple of times along the doorbed before he lets out a quiet sigh and turns to leave. 

It’s better for him to believe that you went back to sleep, lessen any possible suspicion, cover your ass if you ever fuck up and accidentally leave evidence. He’s too good at his job.

The cop car stays parked across the street from your house most days when he’s working a lot, not helping the ongoing joke you hear about how your step-dad does that on purpose to ward away the men who want to date you. For the most part it worked too, living by his rules to focus on your education throughout high school and not waste your time fucking around with teenage boys.

Times have changed though, and with this year long break you both agreed would be best for your mental health, you have gotten bored.

Beyond bored. 

Sneaking over to your window, you watch as he takes one last glance back at the house before getting inside of the car. He’s handsome as ever in that stupid pig uniform, the halster cinching his waist in further really accentuating his build.

Jaemin: Your step-dad’s not roaming the streets tonight by chance? 

Watching his car drive off you reply with an angel emoji, exclaiming how excited you are to get out.

“I’ll see you later Johnny.”

—————————————-

“Didn’t think you’d ever agree to going out with me.” Jaemin grins from ear to ear. Rounding his car to get the passenger door opened for you. 

“Don’t be so modest, you know I’m into you.” You say flirtatiously, settling into the car seat. His eyebrows raise, grabbing onto the roof of the car to duck his head inside. 

“You seem to be into a lot of guys.”

That’s true, you can’t lie about that. Opting to offer him a coy smile, you shrug and tap the tip of his nose. “And you’re at the top of that list.”

Scrunching his nose back at you, he nods acceptingly. “Not only that, but your dad—“

“Step dad.” You’re fast to correct, clearing your throat. “He’s not my father.”

“Right, that, well..” Jaemin stands up straight, cooling his hands off on his jeans from the hot car roof. “Isn’t he like, a cop?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“Thought you told Haechan last semester that you’re not allowed to date..” walking around, he gets into the driver seat and reaches over to buckle your seatbelt. “Didn’t you say that’s his rule? Your step dad?”

“You sure do have a lot of questions, Jaemin.”

“I’m not trying to piss off a cop.” He chuckles, gripping onto the steering wheel. “Silly if you ask me. You’re 18, he can’t expect you to stay abstinent until marriage.”

“Well he does.” 

“Oh.”

“And I don’t care.” Leaning over the middle, you grip onto his thigh. “Right now all I care about is you and me.”

Jaemin’s mouth falls open with a hidden smile, eyeing your hand inching up his thigh. “Someone’s eager.”

“Let’s go to Agora Hills.”

“What??” Snapping his head up, he stares at you with blown out wide eyes. “Oh I thought—“

“You thought wrong, let’s go.”

Slowly nodding, he releases the brake to pull out of your street. Shaking off his shock as he pulls onto the freeway toward the notorious spot up in the mountains. “Well, if I had known, I wouldn't have made a reservation for us at that new Italian pizza spot.”

“Not really hungry,” you shrug, gripping at his inner thigh. “Not for food anyway.”

Jaemin’s eyebrows raise all the way up, a grin spreading on his face as he steps down on the gas pedal and switches to the fast lane. “Don’t think I’ve ever made it out here this fast.”

Directing him to park off in the more secluded area, you smirk and push your way past him to the backseat. “Let’s not waste time.” You say with a wink over your shoulder at him. “I’m so wet already.”

“Fuck.” He practically howls, using the door to get out and climb into the backseat with you. “You really weren’t playing with me with all those slutty pictures, huh?”

“Want you so much.” You say huskily, climbing onto his lap before he can fully even settle into the backseat. “All I can think about.”

Jaemin’s state of shock can’t leave him fast enough, groping his palms up and down your sides. He grabs onto your hips and squeezes, hissing between his teeth. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. Been waiting for you to be legal ever since I saw you last summer at my little bro’s party.”

That’s when it all started. Last summer when Jisung invited you to his graduation party. The group of guys you’d come to know as his older brother and college friends couldn’t take their perverse eyes off of you. The appeal of your innocence had struck a nerve for every single one of them, desperate to stay in touch with the forbidden fruit they knew better than to dare to take a bite of.

“You’ve been so good,” you hum, grabbing onto his bare biceps. Gripping the smooth soft skin between your digits. “So patient, waiting for me like such a good boy.”

Jaemin’s head falls back against the seat, front teeth exposed between his plump pink lips. Thick eyelashes fanning heavily over his lust-filled gaze. “You still a virgin?” He questions curiously, sliding his hands beneath your baggy t-shirt. “Never heard a virgin talk like that..”

“I watch a lot of porn.” You say cheekily, running the tip of your nose against his. “And I’m so fucking horny.”

Jaemin’s throat bobs, hips jerking up under yours. “Fuck, you’re seriously something.”

To reaffirm that, you roll your hips down against his. Building up a fast and hard rhythm against his crotch. “Didn’t Jisung tell you about me? I gave him his first blow job.”

Letting out a howling laugh, he cups over your bra and squeezes your breasts. “Of course you did, that little fucker can’t believe he never mentioned it.”

“So greedy, wanted to keep me allll to himself.” You moan, wrapping around his built shoulders. “Fuck, that feels good.” Grinding down your hips faster, you fall into a rapid bouncing motion. Assisted by his large palms clutching your hips to rock you up and down his clothed hard-on even faster.

“Bet you can cum like this, nasty slut.” He pants between his teeth. Hammering his hips up to meet your middle with each slam against his cock. “Fuck you’re really dripping baby.”

The flimsy pajama shorts you snuck out in hardly do anything to conceal the thin material of underwear plastered to your cunt. Soaked through and pressed directly against Jaemin’s sweats as your shorts move to one side and fully expose your panties. “Making a mess all over me.”

Biting down hard on your lip, you nod against his forehead and swallow down throaty whimpers. “More more, gimme more!”

Jaemin slinks down into the backseat more, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. He pulls you to his chest and rams his hips up faster. The sound of your covered bodies slamming down on each other fills the car between groans and stuck inhales of breath. Digging your nails into his shoulders as the friction builds and rubs your underwear against your clit painfully. “Ah! T-that hurts!” You whine, not stopping your lower half from fucking dowm against the material of his drenched sweats. “You’re so big!”

“Fuck, ah yeah.” He grunts, reaching lower to bury his hands inside the back of your shorts and grab onto your ass. “G-gonna fill you up so fucking good baby. Make you take my cock like a real whore.”

“Ah, please please.” Scrabbling at his chest, you circle your hips down with rabid need. Pressing your clothed clit right against his throbbing length to reach your orgasm. Sucking at his bottom lip, he concentrates on rolling you up and down on his size. Jerking up each time your pulse against his cock.

“Fuck yeah baby, just like that.” He nearly drools, shoving your shirt up with one hand to place his palm against your stomach. “Faster!”

Getting his other hand on your lower back, he ruts you against him vigorously. Mouth hung open as pre-cum drips out of his cock and makes his boxers sticky. 

“Ah!” Falling against him, you tremble and wrap your weak hold onto his thick biceps. “I’m—I’m—“

Jaemin sits the both of you up straight again, jabbing his cock between your ruined panties. “Good fucking whore.”

“Fuck, ahh!”

Shaky hands run up his shoulders to his neck. Latching your lips onto his for a kiss that turns hungry within seconds. Seeking out each other’s taste through your release spilling out onto his groin. He licks at every crevice, sucking your tongue to steal your moan as he continues to fuck your clothed cunt after you’ve finished.

“S’too—“

“Shut the fuck up.” He spits, more aggressive as he slaps his hands down on your ass and throws you down against his cock. “Make me cum, virgin slut.”

Lights blare into the rearview window followed by the sound of rubble and rocks under rubber tires coming to a stop nearby. The bang of a door and heavy footsteps play between the sounds of your heavy panting, mixed moans and tongues gliding against each other. 

“Shit babe, stop. It’s the cops.” He says in a breathy panic, gripping onto your hips with extra strength to stop your grinding. “Fuck, what the fuck.”

“Open up.” A tap tap tap hits against the backseat window, freezing both of you in place. “Police.”

“Shit, shit, oh my God.” Shoving you off, he quickly readjusts his hardened length. Swiping a palm down his face to clean off the sweat dripping down from his hairline. Sitting up and clearing his throat, he rolls down the window with a shaky smile. “Officer.”

A familiar face pops into view, bending down with his arms rested against the car window. “Do you know that you’re on private prop—“

“Hi daddy.”

Johnny’s face goes near white when you sit up behind Jaemin’s broad frame. Speech cut off by his loosened jaw hanging his mouth open.

“Ah, fuck.” Jaemin whispers under his breath, scratching at his neck nervously. “Officer, I’m sorry, I didn’t see any signs.. it’s so dark out here.”

“Get out of the car.” Johnny points at you, directing you toward the door at your side. “Now.”

“Okay.” Hiding a smile, you press to Jaemin’s side to leave a kiss against his ear. “Sorry about this, I’ll text you.”

Too afraid to speak, he nudges you away and frantically nods. “Just go, oh my god.”

“Ugh.” Rolling your eyes, you slide out of the backseat to be greeted by your step-father half-sat on the trunk of Jaemin’s car. “Didn’t know you parole the hills too.”

“I don’t normally.” He says much too calmly for your liking. “Officer that usually does has been on leave because his wife just gave birth. That’s why I’ve been working more this last week.”

“Oh.” You knew that, of course. Having stood in the hallway sneakily while he went over his extra hours with his lead. “I had no idea this was private property.”

Pushing off the car, he hooks onto your elbow. “Let’s get you home.”

“What?” Ripping out of his hold, you shove him away. “I’m on a date.”

“It’s 1 in the morning.” Deep lines resembling whiskers appear on his cheeks, sucking at the backs of his teeth. “Now,” opening up the passenger seat door to his cop car, he tips his chin toward you. “Get in.”

“Such bullshit.” You mutter, plopping into the cop car petulantly. 

“Language.” Slamming the door shut, he rounds to the driver side, tapping the drunk of Jaemin’s car. “Get out of here boy.”

“Yes sir!” He calls out, running back to the front of the car to get his engine warmed up.

“Pussy.” You scoff to yourself, turning your torso to glare at your step-father. “Thanks for ruining my night.”

“Last I checked, you’re not even supposed to be out this late.” Reaching over to click in your seatbelt, he begins to drive off. “Since when do you sneak out past curfew? Is this something new I should look forward to now that you’re an adult?”

Johnny’s jaw twitches, tapping along the steering wheel without taking his eyes off the road. Tension between the passenger and driver seat grows thicker by the second, forcing your hands to ball up into tight fists.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask quietly, keeping your gaze lowered to your balled up hands. 

“No, I’m not mad.” He sighs, gripping the wheel tighter. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Clearing his throat, he hums and squints. “Are you dating him?”

“No.”

“Right.”

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.” He huffs, exiting the freeway that takes you back home. “You snuck out behind my back to meet some guy that isn’t your boyfriend, why would I be mad.”

“Well you have no right to be mad, you’re not my fath—“

“I’m not your father.” Johnny finishes for you, pulling into the same empty spot on the street out in front of your house where he always parks the cop car when he’s working overtime. “But I am your legal guardian.”

“I’m eighteen.” 

“I’m aware, you haven’t gone a day without reminding me.” He smiles softly, turning to face you. “Listen, I’m happy to see you out of your room, living life. Even if it means finding you at Agora Hills of all places with some boy.”

“He’s 21.” You mention to annoy him, unable to catch any sign of change in his calm expression. 

“Yes, I saw his drivers license.” He informs, tight-lipped. “You still live under my roof and therefore must adhere to my rules.”

“I don’t want to.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you slump into the passenger seat. “Your rules are dated and overbearing.”

“Okay, which of my rules would you like to negotiate to change?”

“A ten o’clock curfew is ridiculous, I’m not a child anymore Johnny.”

“It is a bit late right now.” Motioning to the time on the car's dash, he runs a hand through his hair. A anxious habit of tugging at the ends. “How about midnight?”

“That’s still too early.”

“That’s two extra hours.” He says firmly. “And if you’re going to be out at these late hours with 21 year old men, I’d like to meet them first. For your safety, I’m not asking for anything outlandish here.”

“I already told you, he’s just some guy I’m fucking.” Sitting up, you make sure to emphasize the end of your sentence. “Well, would be fucking right now if you hadn’t interrupted.”

Johnny visibly swallows, tucking his bottom lip under the top row of his teeth to not respond abruptly with any anger. “You can’t expect me to be a virgin until I get married, Johnny. I’m an adult now, I have to go out and explore! It’s part of growing up!”

“Midnight, and no later. If you plan to stay out any later, I at least want you to come back home where I know you’re safe. And if I’ve already met him, he can even come over.”

“To my room?”

“With the door open.”

“Come on man!” Smacking the compartment between you, you lean closer to his face. “Would you rather me run out to Agora Hills every night behind your back to get railed in the backseat of some guy’s car? Or at least come home where you know my whereabouts?”

Pursing his lips tight, he leans away from you. “I have to get back to work, please, don’t sneak out again. We’ll discuss this tomorrow.”

Giving him a look that could kill, you grab onto the door handle to exit. 

“By the way,” he looks over you much too fast. Turning away, showing off his perfect sharp jawline. “You can do much better than some 21 year old loser that’s going to take you out to Agora Hills of all places.”

“Whatever.” Shoving the door open with too much force, you kick it shut like a total brat. “You’re ruining my life!” Storming to the front door, you glare at him over your shoulder for one more look.

Fuck he always looks so criminally good in his stupid uniform. Another night with your vibrator attached to your clit for hours until you go near blind would have to get you through this, again.

Flipping him off, you slam the door shut behind you and make the walk of shame to your bedroom with clenched thighs. Arguing with your step-dad always managed to get your blood boiling, heat churning through your stomach. He never argues back, never raises his voice at you, hardly ever even displays much of a reaction.

It’s sickening how watching this big hunk of an authoritarian man act so weak with you always gets you going. Crawling back to your bed, you search for the dildo you purchased using his account to ensure he’d see it in his purchase history. Johnny never said anything, he never does, practically allows you to walk all over him. Especially ever since your mother passed away. As fucked up as it is to take advantage of his kind heart, you can’t feel bad. 

Turning to face your window, you wait for the sound of his engine to exit the street. Sighing to yourself as the buzz between your thighs gets louder and you turn on the highest setting. 

You’re going to need it after that.

—————————————-

“So what is this? I thought you were dating Jaemin.”

“Dating?” You question with raised eyebrows full of sarcasm. 

“You know what I mean..” he remarks equally as sarcastically. Leaning against the hood of his car. His baby really. 

Everyone knows about Jeno’s legendary sports car that he spends hours working on. The exterior beams shinier than any cheek highlighter could ever with the amount of time he spends waxing it. Endless summers of working odd jobs that hired underage teenagers with a permit for some chump change finally garnered him enough to set down a decently size down payment. 

The ridiculous sports car zooming around your town always seemed to piss off the local police, most specifically your step-father.

“I want you to take me to Agora Hills.” You say cheerfully, tapping at his thick arms crossed over his chest. 

“Pfft, I don’t go up there.”

“Why not?” You pout, making him roll his eyes.

“So your daddy can prowl my ass and slap me with a ticket? No thanks.” Jeno scoffs, grabbing your wrists before you’re able to smack his biceps again.

“Don’t call him that.” Unable to tug yourself out of his grip, you lean in closer to his chest. “He’s my step-dad.”

“Narc is what he is, I swear that dick head pulls me over at least every other week.” Jeno grunts, tugging your arms down to pull you closer to him, chest to chest. “We can go to my place, sneak through the back. My parents won’t know you’re there.”

“Nooo, I wanna go to Agora Hills.” You whine, continuing to pout with a stomp of your foot. “Wanna suck you off in the backseat of your fuck-mobile.”

Jeno’s eyebrow raises, half-laughing with a curious glint in his gaze. “Never heard that one before.”

“You’ve also never given me a taste before.” With a cunning smirk, you press in closer. Teasing his chin with a flick of your tongue. “Stop being so selfish.”

“What’s with you and that spot? I don’t get the big deal.”

“Every girl wants to lose their virginity up at Agora Hills.”

Jeno seems awestruck for a moment, nudging his nose against your cheek. “You’re a virgin?”

“Did Jaemin tell you that I’m not?”

A pleased smirk slowly creeps onto his face, lowering his gaze to your lips. “If every girl dreams of getting fucked out there, I can only imagine how often you dream about getting fucked in the backseat of my car.”

“Let’s go.”

—————————————-

“I like your lips.” Jeno leans back against his seat after parking. Slowly dragging his gaze from your eyes to your lip gloss lathered mouth. “Bet they’d look really nice, all swollen and red, wrapped up pretty around my cock.”

Smoothing a hand down his stomach, he runs his bony long digits down the zipper of his jeans. “Do you like sucking cock?”

He’s already hard, rubbing over the bulge that’s pressed against his crotch. Lazily teasing at himself as you check him out and your eyes bounce over his lower half. “I haven’t.. done it too much.”

“Pftt..” his tongue clicks, tracing the outline of his member along the material of his pants. “That’s a shame.. I like girls with experience.”

“I like to learn.” You say abruptly, dropping your chin shyly. “I may not be experienced but you can teach me how to do whatever you like..”

“Are you asking me to train you?” He asks smuggly, smirking to one side. “Train you on how to suck my cock?”

“If that’s what you want..”

Jeno seems pleased by your response, eyes bouncing and sparkling with intrigue. Seemingly enjoying how embarrassed and humiliated you’ve become from his questions. “Show me your tits.” He says flatly, leaning deeper into his seat. 

Anything Jeno says to you right now has to be done. You’re here with a mission and it’s to make sure you get caught, even if it means taking off your top. Throwing it aside, you sit up on the passenger seat on your knees. Dragging your hands up your stomach to cup under your bra-clad breasts. Shoving your cleavage up together, bouncing your perky mounds of fat for his enjoyment.

Jeno reaches out to land a slap on one of your tits, humming and moving your hand out of his way to cradle one of your breasts. Sweeping his thumb down, he presses roughly against your nipple. Smoothing his fingers over your chest to squeeze and pinch the hardened bud through the fabric of your bra. “You have great tits.” He notes, all while focused on your chest. His other hand reaches out so that he can massage both of your breasts. “Nice and big.”

It’s hot in his car now, arching your back forward for him to enjoy your chest more. Nipples tugged at, lowering the cups of your bra underneath your tits so that he can properly flick and squeeze at them. Underwear grows uncomfortably damp pressed against your core, gripping your thighs together harshly to stop yourself from bursting out a tunnel of hot liquid. “Like how I play with your pretty titties?”

“Uh-huh..” you mutter quietly, looking down at how large and veiny his hands look while squeezing your fleshy fat. Digging the tips of his fingers into your tits as if you’re some type of stress ball.

“Bet they’d look so good milking my cock.” He hisses between his teeth. “You wet for me now, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you nod eagerly. Throat dry, voice shaky to hold in your moans. He continues to pinch, rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“Bet your wet pussy’s throbbing, aching to feel my cock.” He says, hands dropping back to his crotch. Inhales of air fight your dry throat, watching as his hand drags down his zipper once again. Tented large against his tight jeans, he sits up straight and slowly begins to free himself; sucking in a deep breath as he gingerly pulls his cock out.

Heat flushes down your chest, struggling to take your next breath. He strokes once, twice, three times to spread around the precum gathered at his slit. Veiny cock pulsating against his palm with each drag, the glistening head so flushed it looks near red. 

“You’re really.. fucking big.” You drool, spit pooled all around your tongue. “I always thought you would be, with how cocky you are.”

“You talk too much, you know that?” Jeno scoffs, flicking your chin. “Show me that mouth is useful for something more than yapping.” Pinching your chin, he shoves his pants down lower and settles back with his hands behind his head. “You wanted to suck my dick? Start sucking, and be careful to not use your teeth.”

Dropping your jaw open with a thrilled nod, you bend over to get your mouth positioned above his erect cock. Drooling for a taste with your tongue lolled out over your bottom lip.

Gripping around the base of his size, he slides his other hand into the back of your hair and grips tightly. “Keep those pretty lips open nice and wide for me baby. Lay your cheek down on my thigh like this.” Pulling on your hair, he angles your face to the side so that he can watch the tip of his dick drag along your upper lip. Smearing your glittering lip gloss all over his already shiny cockhead. 

“You look so fucking cute like this.” He grins, biting back a groan when you start to flick your tongue out against his slit. “Wanna see you take every inch.”

The angles not the best for your neck, especially positioned in his car to not jab your stomach with his shift. You open wide for him to begin feeding his length inside of your mouth. Eyebrows furrowing once he gets a few inches in and you feel a painful stretch pull at your lips. Pushing in past the gagging sounds that reverberate around him, he aids the glide with a press of his hand to the back of your neck. “Come on pretty, take all of it.”

Already taking in loud deep breaths through his nose, he grits his teeth and releases the base of his size. Sliding the last few inches in despite how you choke and tighten up around him. It feels too good to stop now, fucking spit out past your mouth with his thick cock filling you up. The tip meeting his palm laid out on the back of your neck. “Sucking dick like a pornstar.” He rasps. Deep tone falling even lower, husky and thick with horny lust.

Gathering a bundle of your hair, he pushes against your stuffed mouth once more. Testing out how much your gag reflex can handle with half of his dick already resting heavy in the back of your throat. The extra gurgle of spit that spills out around him allows his hips to speed up and thrust in and out. Using the extra lubrication to thrust again and again and again. Holding you down roughly as a throaty deep groan exits his lips and you suffocate on his cock. Lurching around the massive intrusion, flailing your hands and slapping his thighs.

“Holy fuck that’s so good!” Jeno cries out. Lifting his hips off of the car seat as he bottoms out inside of your mouth once again. Tears spring free from your eyes, panting heavily through your nose. The biggest cock you’ve ever swallowed fucks your throat hard enough to leave it’s shape behind. The heady scent of tangy ball sweat and soap fills your head, forgetting that you’re here to piss off your step-father as your hair gets pulled at roughly once more.

Wet gagging fills up the car, the sound of skin clashing against skin emitting with the forceful thrusts he delivers. Cum-filled sack slapped against your cheek each time further solidifying what a whore you are right now. 

Jeno throws his head back letting out another howled moan. Holding your head down and grinding his cock in your throat with circling hips. Agonizing seconds go on like minutes, and all you can do is swallow and heave around him. Making the biggest mess of drool and tears beneath his ass. The resistance to gag again becomes weaker the longer he keeps you there, nose pressed up against the stubble of pubic hair left from shaving a few days ago. 

Finally hauling your mouth off pours out an obscene amount of spit. Drenching his thighs and groin with tons of it as you continue to hold in your gag and cough, gasping for air with wide teary eyes. “J-Jeno—“

“What a fucking good cock slut you are.” He sneers, brutally grasping your cheeks. His fingers dig into the hollows, shaking your head side to side. “Tried to lie to me, sucking dick like it’s oxygen.” He scoffs, releasing your cheeks with a wet slap to your face. Not too hard but enough to shock you, turn your neck to one side. “If I’d known you could take cock like this..”

He whistles, cupping your face with both hands to look at him. “Look so pretty like this.” Picking the wads of spit clinging to your chin, his palm rubs all over your face. Mascara stained down your cheeks, lips dried of gloss and swollen from painfully stretching out.

Smacking at your cheek again, he pulls your bottom lip open for your tongue to hang out. Kissing at the backs of his teeth as he presses down the center of your tongue. “Fucking nasty.” 

Without another second to waste, he shoves your head back down and kicks his hips up. Lining his cock up to your mouth with ease, no guided direction needed. Fucking deep into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat again. Swallowing around his cock sliding through your wet mouth, pulsating on your tongue, trapping your air to the point of feeling lightheaded. His hands slap down on the back of your head, pushing his hips up with violent thrusts.

“Throat taking me so fucking good.” Jeno’s teeth grind. Hips falling back down to the seat with wet splats only to thrusts even rougher into your mouth. Heavy sack slapping your face harder than before. “Slutty throat, just another hole for me to use and ruin.”

A loud broken groan leads to him pulling you off, smacking his fat wet cock down on your cheek. Shoving your messed up hair out of your face to begin dragging his long girth down the center of your nose.

Lights streak through the car window, an alarm ripping you both out of your horny daze. Jerking through your spine as you cough under his length and squint up at the bright’s illuminating his face.

“Fuck. Shit. Get off of me!” Jeno curses, shoving himself away from you with his hands pushing against the backseat. “I fucking knew I shouldn’t have come up here with you.”

Your step-dad’s timing is really something. Not that you planned everything perfectly to make sure he always finds you before anything can actually escalate and go too far between you and whatever guy you’ve managed to lure up here.

No, that would be diabolical wouldn’t it? Your step-father would be the last to believe that any of this could possibly be on purpose. He loves you too much to believe negatively of you. That’s what eats away at you sometimes. He’s just too damn nice to you to the point that it drives you insane. Because you want him—no, you need him to be anything but nice to you. Your mother would have scolded him for spoiling you all of the time, for accepting what an insolent brat you’ve been ever since her funeral.

Knock knock knock taps at the backseat window on Jeno’s side. You ignore it and continue to search for your top, knowing this is likely where your night ends.

“It’s your dad.” He says under his breath, pushing down the window button to open. “Officer.”

“Lee.” He sounds calm and easy as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary, no tension or frustration there. It’s infuriating, he should sound fucking pissed. His head pops into view, leaning over the car window with a soft smile and nod in your direction. “Hello, again.”

“Daddy.” You smile coquettishly. Wiping your chin off with the back of your hand and leaning over Jeno to get closer to him. “Is there a problem, officer?”

“Get out of the car.” Johnny says deeply. Tone falling into a serious one before tapping the hood of the vehicle and pulling away to stand up straight. “Right now.”

Jeno snickers quietly, nodding his chin for you to exit his car. “Whatever.” You mumble, using extra force to slam his backseat door shut. 

“It’s 1am, you know?” Your step-father asks, eyes dragging down your frame. His eyebrows furrowed together as he takes in how crumpled and strewn your t-shirt looks. How obscenely tiny and tight your shorts are. How he’s never seen your eyes and lips this swollen before. The light makeup you had on earlier ruined and smeared down your cheeks. “What did I tell you about coming out here?”

“Oh come on, you want me to be the only freak in this town that never visits Agora Hills? So I can be ostracized by every girl when I start school up again? What if I want to join a sorority?!” You complain, huffing past him with a roll of your eyes. “God, you seriously expect me to be known as some damn loser too depressed to ever go out ever since my mom died.”

Johnny grabs a hold of your arm before you reach the passenger door of his vehicle, spinning you around to face him. “Is that what this is about? You’re worried the other kids in school will judge you for being.. sad?”

“I’m not a kid!” Shouting at him, you stomp angrily. Further proving how immature and volatile you still handle your emotions. “I’m eighteen!!”

Taking a deep breath and a step back, he nods and releases your arm. “Yes, I know.” His eyebrows wrinkle together, rubbing at his cheeks hard enough to drag the aged skin down. Pulling at his face with a frustrated sigh. “I’m doing my best.”

“You think you are? You think this is your best?” You poke at him, stepping into his space to look up at him. Having to crane your neck to keep direct eye contact. “You can’t even bring yourself to punish me daddy.”

Johnny staggers for a moment, cheeks hallowed, droopy eyes darkening for a flash of a second. 

“I—I don’t want to punish you.” He whispers. Dropping his hands down to his hips defeatedly. “You’ve been through enough.”

“Then maybe you’re not fit to be a father. Certainly not my father.” You say snidely, turning your back to him to get inside of his cop car.

Johnny watches you fold your arms over your chest, slamming your back into the passenger seat. Shivering at the sound of the car door rattling shut from the forceful impact you use to shut it. If he was stronger, he’d be able to say something, to do something about your behavior. 

Instead he opens the passenger door to open up the glove compartment to retrieve a pack of tissues. He won’t ask anything, he won’t even speculate or allow himself to imagine what could have ruined your mascara like this. He dabs your cheeks clean instead, leaving the rest of the tissues on your lap for you to use before buckling your seatbelt in and rounding the car to drive you home.

You’re right, he’s not fit to be a father, especially not a widowed one who's been deprived of the touch of another for months now. He can’t even figure out how to deal with his own morbid thoughts, the sad empty black hole that’s formed in his heart. How is he supposed to do what’s best for you? And what is best for you exactly...

Can’t be the thoughts he shoves aside that keep him up at night. The quiet things he envisions when his eyes finally fall shut. The way he buries his face into your basket of dirty laundry, spends extra time folding everything up for you just so he can vividly imagine what you’d look like in all of the different pairs of underwear he washed for you.

He’s only surprised the spirit of your mother hasn’t stricken him to suffer an eternity in purgatory yet..

—————————————-

“Oh, you’re not working today?”

Johnny’s head lifts from the couch, his sleepy eyes blinking a few times before unblurring the image of you in nothing but his boxers and a baggy old tshirt of his.

“I’m off today.” He mutters quietly, tight-lipped as he looks you over again. “Where did you find that?”

Making your way to the couch, you pull on the hem of his shirt. Scrunching up the worn down fabric between your fingers and tugging. “Oh this? I think it got mixed in with my laundry a few months back.” With a smile you plop down right next to him. Avoiding the massive empty space on the couch you could have taken up, instead nestling into his side. “What should we watch?”

He frowns, not wanting to question why you’re wearing a pair of his tattered checkered print boxers. The same way your mother often would in the past, along with his old band shirts.. 

You probably just miss her is all. He misses her too, every hour and minute of his life. Not that seeing you resemble her almost down to a tea makes him feel any better, only consumed by guilt as he steals another look at you.

“Dad?” You speak up, wrapping around his arm to alert him. “You’re zoning out again.”

Again, yes. He does that a lot these days.

“Sorry, uhm, your choice sweetie. Been working so much these days I’m not even sure what’s new on tv.”

“Good thing for you, all I do is watch TV.” You grin, cuddling into his side more. Draping your head and neck along his shoulder.

Johnny’s used to it, you’ve always been rather touchy with him. He doesn’t mind it at all, always took pride in how comfortable you felt around him. He’d never want to make you feel any other way. More than honored to be referred to as your dad when you introduce him, he hums and smiles. Leaning back against the couch cushion with his half shut eyes. “Nothing too scary, I don’t want you staying up having nightmares all night again.”

“Oh come onnnn dad I was like thirteen!!” You whine, slapping his chest. “Besides, you’d let me sleep with you if I got scared, right? Just like back then.” You add with a sneaking smile, nuzzling in even closer.

Your mom had seemed slightly annoyed back then when you came into their room crying during the middle of the night. You’d climbed between them in bed and curled into Johnny’s front, wrapping your small arms around him. He’d never known what it was like to be a father until he had the chance to help raise you. Even now he’s not sure he’s really doing this right..

Ignoring how warm and small you feel pressed to his side, he clears his throat.

“That boy last night..” he says softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Do you like this one?”

A playful glint in your gaze finds his look of confusion. Directing the remote toward his face, you smile. “I like something about him a whole lot, more than any other boy.”

“Is he—this one, your boyfriend?”

“None of them are my boyfriend.” Turning toward him to face him better, you lay a hand against his chest. “None of them really deserve to be my boyfriend.”

It’s normal to experiment and make experiences to learn what you like, what you’re looking for. He has to bite his tongue to keep that to himself. It’s not actually any of his business who you end up forming a relationship with; not unless that boy wants to make it his business. Pursing his lips, he nods firmly, changing his focus back to the tv to drop this topic.

“Besides, Jaemin, Jeno.. they’re not exactly my type.” You add with a flirty tone. “Like Lana sang, I got a taste for men that’s older.”

Johnny’s spine freezes at that, not wanting to engage you anymore. “Should probably find something to watch before it gets too late.”

“What about you daddy?” You practically squeak, crawling your digits up his chest. “You haven’t tried to date at all since mom passed. I wouldn’t judge you for dating someone younger.. I know men have needs.”

Taking a quick hold of your hand, he has to control himself from crushing your palm in his. A serious gaze silently warning you before clearing his throat. “I really have no interest in dating anyone else. Losing your mother has been one of the biggest most unforeseeable losses I’ve ever experienced. No one will ever match up to her for me.”

A look of disappointment paints across your face, turning your lips downward as you slowly nod. “No one?”

“No one.” Johnny says between gritted teeth, releasing your hand. “Let’s watch something already, alright? I need to catch up on sleep tonight.”

The same solemn pout stays on your face even after finding a movie to watch. Some cheesy romcom that Johnny can’t help to think your mom would have loved, you always would spend your weekends watching them together with her. Now you only have him, it’s only normal that you’re acting up more than usual. You always were a good girl, never disobeyed your mother’s rules..

He can’t let you walk down the wrong path, it’s not what she would have wanted for you. Getting caught in the backseat of random boys cars up at damn Agora Hills of all places. She’d be let down, likely punish you and ban your phone privileges for weeks..

He can’t do that to you though. Not when he’s hurting this much and knows inside of his heart that you can only be hurting so much more.

At least he’ll be able to keep an eye on you if you do sneak out there again anytime soon. The one privilege he has over your life as a cop on duty, to at least stop you from trespassing and breaking any laws. 

These thoughts riddle him more and more to the point of exhaustion. Lightly snoring halfway into the movie before the lead actors can even share their first kiss. The sound of his huffed breaths between soft snores catches your ear, gingerly picking your head up from his shoulder to look at him.

He’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. High sculpted cheekbones, beautiful long brown eyes, his straight nose and jawline sharp enough to cut through glass. And his lips, his thick pouty lips that linger through your mind day and night. They tease and taunt each time he talks to you, whether he’s tucking in his bottom lip or speaking with extra emphasis on his juicy pout. You can’t stop dreaming about what they’d feel like against yours, how soft and yet powerful a kiss from your step-dad could be..

Hovering your fingers near the tendrils of hair that have fallen over his forehead, you slowly ease them back. Stroking through his scalp softly much like your mother used to when Johnny would come home late from working, exhausted and resting on her lap, lulled to sleep so easily. 

He can’t really believe that no one will ever peak his curiosity or make his heart pound again? He’s too young to live so miserably.. to never love again. A push in the right direction is all he needs, someone to set off alarms inside of him that have stayed dormant for months. If anyone can make him happy again, it’s you.

You can fulfill that emptiness in his chest, bring butterflies back to life in his stomach, give him a sense of worth to take care of somebody else..

He stirs after a bit, blinking slowly, reaching to wipe drool away from the corners of his lips. Tired droopy eyes failing to stay open when he sees you still by him. “Fell asleep, sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re tired. We can go to bed.”

“Sorry.” He mouths again, groaning as he sits up and you latch onto his arm to help him stand.

“You don’t have to apologize for being tired. You’ve been working really late.”

“Mmm… we both have been up too late these days, haven’t we?” Johnny stops at his bedroom door. Leaning against the wall with a stern raised eyebrow. “Should I expect to catch you out past curfew again?”

“Curfew doesn’t matter anymore daddy.” You smile sweetly, poking his chest. “I’m an adult now.”

He frowns for only a second, looking away as a deep exhausted sigh exits his mouth. “Might be corny to hear, but you’ll always be a little sweet girl to me.”

He isn’t watching to see the sheer look of disappointment dragging your smile away. Having to bite down on your teeth to contain your annoyance, you force an amused smirk. “Your little girl? Will I always be yours?”

Johnny’s tired sleep-ridden gaze trails upward, blinking away from your lips to your sparkling awaiting eyes. Pressing the side of his head to the door, he shrugs and nods. “Of course sweetie, for as long as you’ll need me. I’ll forever be indebted to you.”

It’s not exactly what you want to hear, but it’s enough. Reaching for his waist, you slink your arms through to wrap around him. Smashing your cheek to his chest for a warm hug. “You mean everything to me daddy, you’re the only reason I’m still here.”

There’s more implication behind your words than he’d prefer to fully understand. Floating hands hover over your back, slowly shutting his eyes as he succumbs and squeezes you close to himself. Maybe this is why he lets you get away with everything, your mom would berate him for it. Say that he was far too easy on you, all it took was one cute little smile from you and he’d be wrapped around your finger. He just wanted to be a good father figure for you, that’s all..

“I’ve been having nightmares again.” You whisper, rubbing your face against his chest. “Like before..”

“Like before?” 

After your mother had passed, he heard you crying in the middle of the night. Pushing your cracked door fully open to find you curled up in bed shaking and wracked by sobs..

Johnny had held you and tried to comfort you as you wailed, screamed your cries and clutched at him desperately. It was the hardest few weeks he ever had to endure. Staying up for countless hours to make sure you eventually would get some sleep. You shared with him eventually that you’d see her everytime you tried to sleep. Met with the visual of your mother whenever your eyes would fall shut. 

He didn’t know what to do back then other than hold you and repeat that everything would be okay, he’d always be here for you.

“Can I sleep with you?” You ask against his chest, sliding your hands down to his waist. Johnny shivers under your touch, batting his eyes open.

“In my room?..”

“Please daddy, I don’t want to be alone tonight. I feel.. lonely.” 

Between fighting off how exhausted he is and the pathetic sad look on your face, he sighs. Losing the ability to keep his back straight and shoulders broad. He rubs up and down your spine and nods. “I can sleep on the floor.”

The look on your face morphs in less than a second, from distressed to furious. You push away, quickly wiping at your wet eyes. “Actually, it’s okay. I’m being dramatic.”

“Hu—what?” Johnny grabs at the door frame to stand up straight. Shaking his head to be more alert.

“You need to sleep good tonight, you have work tomorrow.” Tight lipped, you force a smile and take a few steps back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

—————————————-

“What are you doing here?” Wiping a cloth down his chest, the tall blond cleans the stains of oil and dirt. Mixing his sweat with the mess that working on his car has created on his long torso. He squints at you standing by the end of his driveway, the sun going down behind you making it harder for him to really get a good look at you.

Such a shame that he can’t appreciate the cute summer dress you planned just for today, how you spent over an hour doing your hair, the new lipgloss you used to make your lips shine and pop. 

“Didn’t your daddy tell you to stay away from me?” Jungwoo smirks, tossing the used towel on top of the hood of his car.

“Wanted to see your pretty car, you’ve been working so hard on it all week.” You say flirtatiously, moving closer to hug the driver door. Leaned against his classic Cadillac like a vixen straight out of a model car show. 

“My pretty car,” he chuckles, stretching his arms up to show off how defined his stomach muscles are. “You mean my pristine mint condition 1959 series 62 cherry red Cadillac?”

“Yeah, that.” Rolling your eyes with a smile, you round the car to poke his navel. “When are you taking me out?”

“You’re hilarious.” Jungwoo shoves your hand away, nodding his chin to your house down the street. “What? Daddy’s on duty or something?”

“Who cares.”

“Last time he saw you around me, he waved handcuffs in my face and told me to keep my distance if I don’t want to wake up with my car impounded.” Grabbing onto your wrist, lifts an eyebrow. “You might have some corruption kink, but no pussy is worth losing my car over.”

“I’d give you more than just my pussy.” You lie, scooting back to press your ass against the hood of his car. “Come on, he’s out of town. Now’s probably one of our only chances.”

Jungwoo grins, stroking up your lotioned smooth calves to your knees. “When’s he come back?”

“Late tomorrow, but we can’t do anything at my place.. he has security cameras.”

“That’s not a problem.” Jungwoo shrugs, pushing your thighs open. “That why you came over here all pretty? Smelling all nice for me.”

“We can go out to the hills, I know you just moved out here but it’s pretty common.” Pushing your thighs open more, you gather your dress to show off your pretty baby pink lace panties. Uncomfortable as hell, but they spark his interests, caressing up your inner thighs softly with a hum. “Everyone goes out to Agora to fuck..”

“Yeah? To fuck?” 

Your step-dad had complained about how rundown your neighborhood had become in the last few years. Allowing any old trash to move in. He certainly was not a fan of your newest neighbor Jungwoo Kim, rolling down the street with his obnoxiously loud engine revving up loud enough to shake each house he drove by. Johnny wouldn’t stop complaining about him for the rest of that day, throwing out comments to you that it’d be best if you avoid ‘men like that’. If only he had any idea that all you wanted after that was to do the complete opposite.

“Fine, I gotta take a quick shower.” Licking at his lips, he swipes a thumb over your clothed slit. “Come by to get you in an hour.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

—————————————-

“So, Agora Hills? I thought shit like this only existed in stupid sitcoms.” Jungwoo laughs, setting his car in park at the top of the hill overlooking the entire town. 

That’s the point, someone decided to claim this large space of land up on this hill as a place to lose your virginity. To enter adulthood, to check off the right of passage that changes one from sexually inexperienced to a lush. It’s been known as the spot for as long as you can remember, that’s the only reason Johnny’s even aware of what takes place up here.

He used to venture with different girls up to Agora Hills throughout his high school and college years. He can’t really blame you for doing the same, it’s simply the way things go here.

“It’s nice up here.” You smile, peering out of the front windshield at the city lights that burn bright from this high. The greenery that creates more shadows in the dark. The starry sky dimly lighting up the area around you. “The energies different, right?”

Jungwoo bites on his bottom lip, leaning over the front seat of his car with ease since the old model has nothing to stop him from getting closer to you. He drapes an arm around your shoulder, presses in to drag his nose down your cheek. “It’d be nicer if we were fucking.”

Plush lips find yours, using his tongue right away to lick between and garner access inside of your mouth. Freshly washed up after working on his car all day, he wafts the aroma of body wash and clean soap smell around you. Minty tongue still carrying traces of mouthwash. Jungwoo’s not interested in wasting time or getting to know you. Only in one way really.

Johnny was right to tell you to keep your distance from men like him. That’s why you had to go for him. In less than a minute he’s already swiping between your thighs, cupping over your lace covered mound. Shoving his tongue deep inside of your mouth with more confidence and aggression than Jaemin and Jeno had initially. 

He’s older(25 to be exact), Johnny hates that. His car is absurdly noisy, Johnny hates that. He blasts music loud enough to wake up the entire neighborhood early in the morning every weekend, Johnny really fucking hates that.

“Jungwoo,” you moan softly, pushing at his chest. “S-slow down a little.”

“Pft, come on. Don’t give me that shit, you’ve been teasing me for weeks.” He mutters against your lips, biting on your lower one to let you know how annoyed he is. 

“Please, I’m—I’m a virgin.” You whisper feebly. 

“What??” Jungwoo pulls back, ragged and out of breath. Lips all pink and swollen from kissing you roughly. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“N-no, my step-dad’s really protective..”

“The cop.”

“Mhmm..”

Shaking off an annoyed laugh, he rubs the top of your thigh closest to him. “I hate using condoms. Not gonna fuck you with one your first time either if you’re expecting some kind of princess treatment from me.”

“I don’t..” 

But you also have no intention to actually lose your virginity in the front seat of his Cadillac. Not when you know your step-father started his rounds a little over an hour ago. From your estimation, he’ll be on his way up the hill in no less than 15-20 minutes. If finding you with the neighbor he can’t fucking stand doesn’t break him, then maybe it’s time to give up.

“You ever touch yourself?” Jungwoo asks, interrupting your thoughts. Gripping the hem of your dress before dragging it up and off of your body. He reaches between your legs again, rushing to scoop your cunt with the entirety of his large palm. Digging the heel of it against your covered clit. “Like this?”

“Unghh..” you nod slowly, grinding against the pressure. 

“Tell me more.” Jungwoo’s nose flicks against your chin. Applying pressure down on your clit. “What turns you on? I want you dripping wet.”

Your step-father, Johnny. Unbuttoning his uniform. Sat stressed out at the kitchen island with his head hung between his shoulders, eyebrows furrowed together. The way he looks fresh out of the shower when he doesn’t know that you’re watching him. Droplets of water cling to his smooth bare skin, the tattoo on his bicep rippling with each movement, the pink blotches sprinkled across his back and chest from using boiling hot water. 

Johnny’s always on your mind when you touch yourself. He’s the first thing you see when you shut your eyes to fall asleep. He’s the first face you envision when you wake up and rub your eyes, sighing and whimpering to yourself. How he could be one room away and still so far drove you crazier by the minute. Creating more outlandish scenarios in your head as hours went by throughout your day and he’d be hard at work protecting the streets.

It may seem sick to some but your step-father has always been a man you could admire. He never failed you, even now when he should punish you, lock you up with no access to your phone- he doesn’t. He loves you too much to make you suffer anymore than you already have. Do you deserve his patience?

Jungwoo’s teeth nip at your cheek, shoving his hand inside of your panties when you fail to answer with a dazed look in your eyes.

“Y-you,” you mumble, stroking down his forearm to his wrist. “Older guys like you.”

It’s not a complete lie. Most of your wet dreams consisted of your step-father reminding you of how much older he is than you. How much bigger he is than you. How wrong this is. What a disappointment your mother would deem you. She’d be so upset with you, exploiting yourself like this just for your step-fathers attention. She didn’t raise you to be this way, but she’s not here anymore. You only have Johnny now, his presence and existence in your life. Nothing more, nothing less.

But you need all of him. You want it all.

“Slut.” Jungwoo sucks at his bottom lip, pinching your clit between two of his digits. “Only eighteen?”

“Mhm..”

A sadistic smile grows on his face, sliding two digits lower between your folds. “And a virgin, fuck. I can’t remember the last time I fucked a virgin.”

and he still won’t remember after this, judging by the time.. your step-dad will be here soon. At least you hope he will be…

Tips of rough calloused fingers tap against your tight hole, sucking in a deep breath as he adds a little pressure. “Fuck.. you’re so small.”

Licking down your cheek, he nibbles his way to your jawline. Teeth dragging and layering kisses down to your chin. “Messy as fuck, virgin cunt soiling through my car I bet. Wanna eat you out, bet you taste so good.”

Blood rushes to your ears, firmly shutting your eyes and slumping deeper into his passenger seat. “Anyone ever ate out your tight pussy before, angel?”

Jungwoo’s tongue flicks out, lapping up your chin to your mouth. Swallowing the moaned muffled ‘no’ you let out.

“I get to do the honors.” He trails off, prodding at your sensitive hole before sliding his hand free. “Come here.” Grabbing onto your hips, he manhandles you into a better position. Back leaned against the passenger door, cupping under your thigh with a large hand to pull you apart. “Open your pretty cunt for me just like this.” He huffs breathily, gently placing the back of your calf onto the seat. Obscenely sprawled out with your other leg on the car’s floor still.

Not bothering to pull off your panties, he shoves them to one side. Quietly whistling between his pink lips, he drags a thumb down the center of your parted open folds. “Fuck, you’re really..” his head shakes, bending in closer to gawk at your cunt up close. The dim light entering the car makes your arousal appear more as a glossy coat on your thighs. Glistening under the bright lit moonlight. “So wet. Can probably make you squirt so easily.”

Squirt? You think you mutter, dragging the back of your head against the car window. 

A gruff sound leaves his lips, lowering his mouth to your pussy without another second to waste. His tongue pokes out, gently tracing between your wet folds. Teasing side to side until your hips squirm and he lets out a pleased rumble. “Fuck, you taste better than a dream.” He gasps, eyes rolling up to meet yours from the angle he’s at. 

Dropping his mouth back down, he keeps his gaze fixated on your. Sharp eyes lazily hooded, pressing firmer licks between your pussy folds. Rolling the muscle of his tongue up and over your swollen clit. He teases there until your toes curl, reaching your hands out toward him helplessly in search of something to grab onto. 

The thick width of his tongue drags down, laps at your entrance. Testing the stretch with the tip of his tongue pushing inside with a vibrating groan that has you reaching for his hair.

It’s too much after edging yourself for hours to the thought of your step-father today. After sneaking into his bedroom as he showered to lick at his gun, sucking at it before shoving the barrel inside of your hole while Johnny jerked himself off in the shower. 

“F-fuck, I’m—I’m cu—“

Gravel. Tires skidding. A harsh pull of a car brake. Bright lights and a loud clash from a door slamming. He’s here.

The knock at Jungwoo’s car window is incessant, rapid and angry. Ripping himself off of you, he loudly curses, smearing the back of his hand across his lips before yelling for your step-father to stop out of fear that he’ll shatter the glass. “God fucking damnit.”

Rolling it down manually with renowned speed and a frightful gaze, he locks eyes with Johnny’s thinned out furious ones. Sinking down and reaching inside of the car to grab his neck with one large hand. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing boy?!”

Jungwoo squeals, eyes bulging out of shock and fear. He slaps at Johnny’s wrist, trying to call for your help.

“Daddy! Let go of him!” You shriek, grabbing your dress to hold against yourself. Trembling at the sight of your step-father in this state. He’s never looked so angry, terrifying really..

“Get out of this car. Right now.” He says sternly, burning into you with a laser focused look in his eyes. “Now.”

His demanding tone has you racing to reach the passenger door, not even bothering to get your dress back on before running over to where he still stands hunched over with an unyielding chokehold on Jungwoo’s throat. “Daddy, please! Please stop! Let go of him!”

Wrapping your arms around his bicep, you try to pull. Failing to make him budge and losing your footing when he stands up abruptly. “You, right there.” He points to the hood of the car, reaching for his back pocket to retrieve a pair of handcuffs.

“I told you I’d be on your ass if you ever came near my daughter.” He sneers at Jungwoo, grabbing his arm by the car door. He drags the younger’s wrist to the seatbelt, latching the handcuff shut to trap him to his driver seat. “And you.”

Turning toward you, he points to the hood again. Grabbing your shoulders to spin you around and bend you over, chest pressed flat to the car hood.

“Daddy!” You squeak, breath caught in your throat.

“Don’t.” He growls, slotting his hips to your bottom to keep you in place. Using one large powerful hand to lock your wrists together against your lower back. The feeling of his big warm body sends your mind into a frenzy, pressing your cheek down on the car as a whimper slips free and you meet Jungwoo’s petrified gaze through the windshield. “What did I tell you about the Kim boy down the street?” Johnny asks, controlling the anger in his tone.

“T-to—stay—away from h-him,” you whine, slamming your eyes shut. “T-too old for me.”

“But you like them older, right?” Weight drops down on your back. Heavy and crushing, pressing his hot mouth to your ear. “You love to disobey me, why is that?”

“N-no daddy..”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” He bites, teeth snapping down loudly. The dominant tone melting you down, struggling to breathe with his chest on your back, the full weight of his groin shoved against your ass. “What happened to being a good little girl?”

“I-I—I—“ speechless is what you are. Not processing one single clear thought under him. The cool car hood encasing night air keeps you sane enough to stop losing your mind to the heat taking over your body. This isn’t really happening, your step-father.. he’d never act this way. Unless you finally succeeded, you got your wish, you broke him down..

“Tell me the truth, you’ve been a bad girl.” His free hand snakes to your throat. Knocking the breath out of your chest as his palm lays flat and everything around you reminds you of how much fucking bigger he is than you. How much older, stronger, more powerful he is. It’s every horny dream that’s ever interrupted your sleep, but so real, so fucking real. “That’s what you want to be now? Daddy’s bad little girl.”

Oh fuck. This can’t be really happening.

“N-no, daddy’s good girl.” You cry, turning your head enough to look at him from the corner of your eye. “Your g-good girl.”

“It’s my fault. I gave you too much. Let you think you could do whatever the fuck you wanted without any repercussions.” The bridge of his nose presses to your cheekbone. Electric eyes filled with flames locked on yours. “Need to put you back in your place, don’t I sweetheart?”

Tears dribble from your eyes beyond your comprehension. Falling down a dark hole without escape, you nod slowly, whimpering through your choked sobs. “Daddy.”

“I know, baby.” Soft lips drag down your cheek, firmly pressing a kiss at the corner of your mouth. 

Everything about him feels so dizzying, knowing your head would roll off of your neck if he wasn’t choking your throat right now. His fingers trail up to your chin, turning your face to look at Jungwoo’s large eyes reflected in the windshield. “You’re better than this.”

“I’m not, I’m bad. I need to be fixed.. corrected.” You manage to whine, innocently blinking over your shoulder without a care in the world for the man you manipulated into this situation. They’ve all been pawns in your game, your step-father included. All to get what your heart and body desires. “Punish me daddy!”

Johnny’s soft eyes darken in an instant, coated by a shadowed film covering his iris. His nostrils flare, laying all of his large size on top of you. “Why are you asking this of me?”

“B-because, I love you.” You sob, bouncing your lower half against him. “I love you daddy, so much!”

The last bit of fight he had left exits his lips with his next breath. Slowly dropping his eyes shut as he stays still and lets the sensation of your ass grinding back on his cock wash over him. He tried to deny, tried to ignore, berated himself for allowing such indecent thoughts about his step-daughter to enter his mind.

Ever since your behavior became more concerning, he had to set up hidden cameras around the house. He was worried, that’s all. Worried of what harm you could cause yourself when left alone with your sadness and thoughts. He wanted to tell you, he did, but it was only for your own good. And for the most part he felt at ease while he patrolled and left you alone at home. You mostly slept, laid around, occasionally made yourself food. He saw when you’d sneak around.. steal his clothing, but that never bothered him.

Today though, what he saw today, only an hour ago as he fast forwarded through the footage documented today. He saw you on his bed, the one he shared with your mother once. Tracing your fingers along his work uniform, picking up his gun to pose with in the mirror. All normal, until it wasn’t.

“What did you do with my gun?” He asks slowly, shoving your hair away to one side. “Tell me.”

Color drains from your face, wide eyes peering up at him. “I—I—“

“Why did you do it?” He continues to question, having to swallow to calm his dry throat. “What’s gotten into you sweetie? What do I need to do to fix this? To fix you?”

What has gotten into you? Depression, malignant fantasies, emptiness. Really, that's it, emptiness. Every part of you feels so empty, so hollow, unalive. The only time a shred of life shows itself is when you see Johnny, when you’re with him, when he smiles at you, when he touches you, when he wraps you up in his large arms. “Because I love you.”

One solo tear trails down his cheek, slowly nodding as he pulls you up and wraps around your waist from behind. Soft full lips press to your cheek, the lips you crave and lose your mind over. Safety, that’s what he is. Your step-father, he’s the refuge you pray for, the comfort you can’t find anywhere no matter how hard you search. “If you love me, you’ll stop doing this.” His voice cracks, shaking as he finds your watery eyes.

“And if you love me,” your lip trembles, teeth chattering. “You’ll love me.”

If there is a God, he’ll never forgive him.

Strong working hands, dangerous hands that have handled firearms for years, that have locked up wrong doers, that have nurtured and fought hard for you; strong hands squeeze your waist. Slowly turning you around to face him. “I want to take you home.”

“No daddy, I want you, here.”

Here at Agora Hills, the exact place you have been luring him to night after night. “Here?” He questions almost pathetically, rubbing down your bare stomach to the frilly material of your panties. His eyes slide over to Jungwoo’s near haunted face, jaw hung open so wide he can see all the way to the back of his throat where his tonsils hang. Surely he’ll tell everyone in the neighborhood about what he’s witnessed here tonight. May as well make it a good story. 

“Here.” Johnny repeats more assured, nodding to the hood of your neighbor’s ridiculous car. “Lift your legs up sweetie.”

The backseat of his patrol vehicle had definitely been the layout for your fantasy, skittish as you allow him to mount you onto Jungwoo’s car and the hood gives under your weight. Denting your knees in place, echoing a pitiful cry from inside of the car. Johnny’s hold around your stomach tightens, resting your back to his chest so that your legs can bend open in front of the windshield. “You let this idiot touch you baby?” 

“Y-yes..” you admit, flushing from head to toe as you meet your neighbor’s miserable expression. He really really had pissed off your daddy..

“You let him touch you here?” Longer fingers drag across the top of your lace panties. Biting down on his lip with his chin perched over your shoulder. He slaps your trembling inner thighs, reaching lower to drag a thumb down the seam of your panties stretched against labia folds. “Let anyone touch you, don’t you?”

“N-no daddy..”

“Don’t lie to me.” Johnny’s usual soft spoken voice is long gone. Falling into a deeper and raspier speech as he skirts around your panties. Tapping the tip of his nose against your cheek. “No more, you let anyone touch you again and daddy will make you regret it.”

Fuck. Shivers explode down your spine, frantically nodding as he suddenly rips your soaked underwear to one side. Exposing your blood engorged cunt to the cool night air, pornographically spread open on the hood of some classic automobile. “N-never!”

“That’s right.” He hisses, eyebrows furrowed, leaning into your back more until you fold in and can’t lift your neck. Forced into a nearly pretzeled position with no choice but to watch as his large hand lowers past your navel and he splits open your pussy folds. “Shaved yourself all pretty, I know that’s not for him.”

Erupting with a fresh batch of tears, you struggle to shake your head. Rambling a spatter of ‘nonono’ because nothing has ever been for anyone else. Only for your step-father, only for him.

It’s beyond painful how desperate you sound, losing your sight through wads of tears that won’t stop filling up your eyes. “What should I do baby? Your panties are so wet.” He tsks, tugging the worn down material bunched up in his fist even harder. Ripping a sound of lace shredding through the night air. “Want me to touch your little pussy? To use your cunt in front of your random boy toy?”

“Daddy, p-please!” He’s driving you crazy. Slamming your socked feet against the car hood, you let out the most feral of moans. Jerking your hips up with a shout

“Want me to touch you here?” Johnny murmurs, sounding on the brink of insanity himself. Tiptoeing two fingers down your cunt to your opening, spewing slick out onto his digits. “To shove them deep inside of you?”

A moment of cold silence rinses down on you, craning your neck back against his chest to look at him. Nuzzling and nodding against his throat, you whimper feebly, placing a scolding kiss on his Adam’s apple. “Please daddy, p-please fuck me.”

Shit, that’s not what Johnny expected to ever hear. The beating of his heart goes wild, throbbing its way up to his brain, filling his ears full of static noise. He’s panting heavily, winding down to your entrance in search of what can only be wonderland. Fully hunched over you, he watches with intent as the pads of his digits push against the tightness of your hole. Hissing between his teeth at the resistance he’s met with. 

There’s no way you’re still this tight if you really let the neighbor boy fuck you. How tiny can his dick be? Johnny grimaces, pushing in past the snap of skin that sucks around his fingers. Propelling spikes of adrenaline and hunger through him that scream to go harder, faster, deeper. The bend in your knees goes limp, kicking out against the car windshield, garnering another shattered cry from inside of the vehicle. 

Entranced by how you squeeze around two of his digits, your step-father stabs them deeper inside. Thrusting them in harder only to hear your cunts wet echoes splatter around his hand onto the hood of Jungwoo’s car.

“Daddy!” Exhaling something between a moan and a cry, you pant heavily under his upper body. Convulsing and shaking into him, forced to take the two long fingers jabbing in and out of you at a rapid speed. He flicks at your swollen clit, in disbelief at the way your pussy hasn’t stopped spasming since he started fucking past your holes squeeze. 

“You're so close, princess.” He huffs raggedly. Snapping his fingers in and out at a blinding pace. Pumping more wetness to stream out onto the hood of the car. The teasing flicks at your clit turn furious. Pinching your stuff bud between his thumb and pointer finger, tweak your raging nerves into a frenzy. Shots of electricity burn through your limbs, curling your toes in with a scream out to the night sky. 

It’s hot and blinding, punching your chest with cold all at once. The force of your orgasm pushes against his fingers, halting Johnny’s motions as a powerful rush of clear liquid rips out around his digits and your pussy walls grip around him. The thought of his cock filling you up next has him pulling out. Slapping his hand down to rub at your clit furiously, concentrated and focused as he watches in awe. The squirting stream shoots out harder, raining down on the car’s windshield.

“Holy shit.” Jungwoo cries out from inside, struggling to breathe.

“Knew you could do it.” Your step-father praises, kissing the side of your sweaty forehead. “My good girl.”

Johnny does the unthinkable, swiping your drenched cunt before lifting his hand up, gaze on yours with his tongue lapping at his fingers. “Tastes so good.”

Just like heaven.

“D-daddy?” You sniffle, pouting your lips out toward him with the largest saddest eyes he’s ever seen. Bloodshot, cheeks stained with tears the same exact way they were when your mother died.

A kiss, a kiss is what you beg for. A kiss from your daddy.

And Johnny, how could he ever deny you? How can he stop himself from scooping you up, wrapping your trembling thighs around his waist. Cupping your ass as he leans in and gives you one of the softest lightest kisses, leaving one on the tip of your cold nose after. He presses for more, a firmer kiss, longer contact. Rubbing your ass between his greedy hands, asking for entrance to your sinful mouth with his tongue. 

Denying you has never been an option. 

“D-daddy,” you cry between hot kisses. Overwhelmed by his dominant mouth, how easily he takes control. The suck around your tongue and lips ready to burst from how swollen they are. “Please, please fuck me. Want you to be my first, please.”

“First?” Stepping back, he looks over your naive expression. Your flushed cheeks, your beating chest, your hands trembling against your thighs. “First.”

You’re a virgin, an eighteen year old virgin. His step-daughter, pure, untouched, barely legal. Begging him to be your first.

If anyone should be your first, it’s him. He practically raised you, has the best interest in mind for you. He loves you.

“Show me.” Licking at his lips, he swallows hard. Throat clamoring for some saliva. “Show me your virgin pussy.”

And you do, you listen so well. Almost too perfectly as you place your feet flat to the car and grab your knees to hold them open. Your pretty lace panties ruined, blood-filled cunt pulsating at him. It’s a sight he hasn’t seen in years, virgin pussy. Hairless in all the right places, hole barely visible because of how fucking tight you are.

It’s wrong, he’s so big it’s going to hurt you so much. “Daddy.” But the way you whine for him. How you proudly sit there pumping your cunt at him. You need to be punished.

He wants to take you home, fuck you right on the same bed he took your mother on for years. Bend you into every position, make you scream all night until the neighbors make a fuss and turn their lights on at 3am. Nosey and curious, whispering about a murder taking place.

Wrapping you back up in his arms, he spares Jungwoo’s sobbing face one last look. Nodding with a smirk before turning around to his vehicle. At least he’d taken the SUV for patrol tonight, unbeknownst to himself of what would soon unravel. 

“You deserve the world baby.” He whispers, unlatching the back door open to climb inside with you. It’s spacious enough, thankfully, because despite how badly he needs to get you home, he needs to know how you feel even more. Fighting with each step to his cop car with his swollen sack, he’s proud of himself for not turning you over and taking you on that asshole’s car. “And daddy’s going to give it to you.”

Writhing against his back seat, you lay flat and unhook your bra, throwing it to the ground. “You’re so so pure.” He almost growls, unbuckling the large metal buckle of his belt. Blazed eyes dragging down your body, your pinched waist, round hips, panties barely holding on for life. “So beautiful and good to me.” He nods, shaking his shoulders free from his holster. Working to unbutton his long sleeved uniform shirt. “So good for me, my angel.”

Johnny means every word. You’ve never done wrong in his eyes, always his sweet little girl. Even now you’re giving him everything, all of you. An angel sent to take care of him through his misery. 

Getting down to his constricting work slacks, he situates himself between your thighs. Having to hunched in due to the shirt ceiling height. The touch of your flesh beneath his fingertips heats up like a furnace. “Your pussy, your virgin cunt..”

Eyes drunk on nothing but need, lust, desire, love stare up at him. Continuously rolling tears down your glowing cheeks. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, never having had sex.. you just want him.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He asks brazenly, surprising himself. Caressing the insides of your knees and he peers down at your cunt that seems to have a heartbeat of its own. “Who’s is it, baby girl?”

“Your!” You cough, falling into a mewl. Moaning lewdly as he nods above you, broad and large. Slinking his hands to his zipper to slowly glide down. 

“Yeah,” Johnny sucks in a deep breath, nodding slowly. Shoving his pants and briefs down past the middle of his thighs. “After I fuck this pussy, no one elses but mine.”

“Daddy’s pussy.” You moan, legs spread out for him. Grabbing your panties to tug at roughly. “Only yours.”

A glob of wet arousal pulses from your hole as you say it, and it’s enough to drop his body forward. To circle the base of his cock with one of his sweaty hands, eyes on yours. The way your cunt drips, he can only hope you’ll feel nothing but pleasure. Slapping the thick girth of his meat against your wet pussy, he hisses. Having to hold himself up with one arm bracketed by your head so that he can look down at his length covering your center. “This might hurt, baby.”

“P-please.” Make it hurt. That’s all that Johnny can hear. Your pleads for punishment, for pain, for something to heal and fill up your empty soul.

The head of his cock feels the true warmth of your cunt, your tight suffocating grip, wrapping around him like a perfect cock sleeve. 

And it’s right, it’s so right. Rolling his eyes shut, groaning as he feeds you more of his size despite your cries. The scrabbling small hands scratching his chest, your clinking teeth and sniffles. He fits the entirety of his cock inside of your pussy. Mesmerized by how fucking wet you are, wettest cunt he’s ever fucked. 

Sinking into the hilt, he meets obstruction. Mouth hung open panting heavily on top of you. He can’t take his eyes off of it, how his cock disappears inside of you, how connected you both are right now. Creeping an angry groan out of him, curling up his spine as his balls smack against your rim.

“My angel, my baby.” He pants harshly. Using his flexed abdomen muscles to hold himself up and slide both of his hands beneath your neck. “Look at us, baby.”

Johnny’s strong hands hold your head up off of the backseat, folding you in as they wrap around your neck and squeeze. The crushing weight on your throat chokes your breath, wide eyed as you look down at what he wants you to see. Fucking into you with brutal determination when he finds your gaze where he wants it to be. His glossy wet cock, pummeling in and out of you as if you’re a pro at this. 

Your cunts just too good, sucking around him like nothing ever has. He draws in and out, plunging in madly. Pulling out to the tip only to slam back in and make you take, shape you to take his cock.

Creamy wetness splurges out around his size with each stroke. Spilling out beneath your ass, filling the vehicle with a splattering sound of your arousal. The smack of his balls on your ass, hips hitting the backs of your thighs. Coughed and gurgled moans, scratching at his forearms the more he tightens around your neck. “Daddy!”

Fuckfuckfuck, you’re driving him insane. Bonkers, off the walls, throwing his head back releasing the loudest pleasured moans. Each one making your pussy squeeze and grip around him tighter. He moans louder and louder, reminding you with each that you’re the best, so good and amazing for him. 

“Da-daddy—is—is—“ you splutter, jerked up and down under the force of his hips jackhammering into you. 

Johnny’s wild eyes meet yours, loosening on your throat to let you breathe easily. His pace never falters, pushing his cock through your kissing cunt. Through your delicious maddening heat, through the milking grip trying to make him cum. “Baby wants it even deeper, huh?”

“I-is—“ you mumble incoherently, squeezing your eyes to blink away tears. Fluttering open to find his. “M-my pussy—better t-than mommy’s?”

FUCK. 

Why would you say that?! Why would you ask him that?! Johnny can’t stop his hips from stuttering, slamming in and stilling. Filling your cunt with a hot load of cum, sticky and wet. Too much for your tiny little hole to handle. He’s never lost himself like this, never emptied his balls so fast. Never came too quickly.

“What’re you doing to me.” He whimpers, falling flat and heavy against your chest. Ragged breaths punch out of his lungs, practically vibrating on top of you. His cock twitching inside of your squeezing hole, not softening up for anything.

“Say that again.” He sighs, reaching to cup your face. Nose shoved against yours. “Say that again for me baby.”

The sad desperate tone he asks you in has your pussy squeezing around the wet gush of sperm and slick filling you up along with his fat cock. Losing your strength to hold your eyes open, you slowly fade. Heavy lidded and croaking. “I-is my pussy b-better than mommy’s?”

Johnny’s bulging biceps cage your head. Pressing a searing hot kiss on your saliva drenched lips. “So much better, my fucking angel. My fucking sweet angel with he best pussy, can’t get enough of you. Will never be enough, need all of you.”

Licking at the drool covering your chin and neck, he begins to grind his hips in circles. Stretching your cock to take him again and again. For as long as he can keep it up for you, he’ll keep fucking you. Fuck all the pain away with more punishment. 

“Daddy’s gonna mold your tight little pussy.” He grunts, sitting up to haul your legs up. Laying your limp limbs against your chest with no struggle. “So flexible.” 

Of course you are, a young eighteen year old girl, good for nothing but taking cock. “Want you only taking my cock from now on, no one else’s.”

“Y-yes daddy.” You whisper, throat burning from screaming and moaning. Face scrunched up trying to hold back your urge to cum again, too swollen between your thighs to squeeze any harder. “Only yours.”

“Such a good pussy. So fucking soft and wet.” Johnny thrusts in slowly a few times. Catching his breath before slamming down, circling his thick arms around your shoulders to completely fold you in. Suffocated by his masculine body wash scent filling your senses, his deep grunts, the deep set lines taking over his forehead with every exerted movement. 

Furious thrusts only build and build to a violent speed, aided by the endless stream of slick lubricating his cock. He can’t stop fucking you, can’t make himself stop.

“Daddy, daddy!” It’s all you can say, repeat and scream. Too lost in your pleasure, the numbness coursing through you, your blacked out mind that needed this. Needed to feel whole to feel empty again, to relax your brain and scorch endless amounts of endorphins through your system. 

“Come on princess, let me feel how good that pussy cums.” He growls, chasing your orgasm for you. Grunting and fucking through your pulsing heat, hot slick pussy walls gripping him so tight. 

“A-ahh!” The drag of his length pauses, fluttering his eyes open. Letting out a cracked howl as you cum. Tossing his head back to fully take in how clench around him akin to a chokehold. Wailing and whimpering beneath him as streams of hot clear liquid shoot onto his pelvis. Too limp and out of it to break free from his position even through your writhing. Your step-father suffers through it, the best suffering he’s ever experienced. Biting down on his lip with a deep breath as he curses and fucks through the last seconds of your climax. 

He tries to stave off his release, tries to stop himself from finishing too fast again, but you’re just too good. Never letting his dick breathe with the way you milk his cock.

“Fuck shit, f—fuck. G-gonna cum.” He says between clenched teeth. Groaning from the back of his throat, digging his fingers into your thighs hard enough to bruise. “Take all of my cum baby, it’s all for you.”

All of it for you, from now on he won’t go a day without spilling himself empty inside of your pussy. Fucking his seed deep inside, painting your cervix without any concern of you getting pregnant. You belong to him now.

“Fuck that’s it.” He grits, groaning loudly with shaking thighs barely holding him up. Cock sheathed deep inside of you painting your cervix in strings of white hot cum. “Take all of it, my good girl.”

His good girl, you hum quietly. Using your last bit of energy to clamp your cunt around him and snatch every last bit of cum for your greedy hole. 

The night feels endless in the backseat of his patrol car atop of Agora Hills. Just the two of you, lost in each other’s bodies, fucking your pain and anger away. 

“Let’s get you home.” He finally finds the willpower to say after filling you up two more times. Finding a blanket in the trunk to wrap around you. “It’s too late, way past your curfew.”

The comment brings a lazy smile to both of your faces. Curling into his side for comfort.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, princess.” He sighs, rubbing at his forehead to ease whatever anxious thoughts attempt to enter now that the haze of lust and sex has cooled down.

“I love you.” 

Johnny frowns, turning to cuddle against your side. His forehead presses against your shoulder, placing a light kiss on your collarbone. “Daddy loves you more.”

—————————————-

[robo-writing]

Logan happy trail. Logan happy trail. Logan happy trail—

You’d never stoop so low as to say you have a favorite part of Logan—he’s your boyfriend after all, you love him for all his faults and features. There isn’t a single thing you could ever definitively point out and say “that’s my favorite.”

However, if you had to choose—

“Christ doll, you’re lookin’ at me like a starving dog,” he says with a smug. “What’s got you so worked up?”

You’ve been waiting for him to come back from training all day, sitting on the couch practically counting the seconds. The training session he just came from must have been intense; shirt off, his entire torso glistening with sweat—his happy trail on full display.

You don’t even pretend to be ashamed, blatantly staring at the lovely trail of hair that starts from his belly and moves further down to where the rest is covered by a pair of low-hanging jeans. You’re forcefully pulled from your ogling, hand at your chin, removing your attention from his beautiful patch of hair to his face.

“Y’know, it’s rude to stare,” He whispers. His eyes hold only bad intentions, and you’re happy to oblige, leaning into his touch.

“Kinda wanna do more than just stare,” you whisper back.

His thumb reaches to stroke your cheek. You enjoy the soft touch, hands wandering closer to his torso to stroke the hair that’s been tempting you since he walked through the door, until he catches them in his own with a shake of his head.

“Baby, you know that’s bad manners,” He lets your face go and hooks his thumbs below his belt line, pulling his jeans down even further, exposing the veins that start to run from his v-line.

“If you want to touch, ask nicely.”

The words leave your lips embarrassingly fast. “Can I touch you? Please?”

Your thighs are rubbing together, hands at your side obediently. When he nods his head you reach forward, sliding your hands across his hot skin, nails scratching lightly with each pass, the softest groans escaping Logan with each touch.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Take what you want.”

Spurred on by his words you pull his pants down, boxers strained by the visible outline of his cock. Feeling mischievous, you place a kiss through the fabric, smile widening as you feel it twitch between your plump lips. He hisses in response, fingers curling around your hair.

“Don’t be a tease, or else I’ll leave you here all by yourself,” he says, tugging your head slightly. “We got a deal?”

You couldn’t say no if you tried, so pent up just the sound of his voice gets you riled up. “Promise, just lemme have a taste, I’ll behave.”

He mumbles something under his breath, tugging himself free. Pretty and pink, his cock in full view, still every bit as beautiful no matter how many times you see it. Your tongue peaks out from your lips, tracing every vein with excitement, a smile on your face as he strokes your hair.

“Just needed a taste, is that it?” He groans, rubbing his shiny tip against your lips. “Just needed your boyfriend’s fat cock in your mouth, didn’t you?”

You moan in response, opening your mouth as he feeds you what you’ve been waiting for. Slowly, gently, your tongue massaging the salty skin, inch by inch. Your hand reaches up to scratch at his happy trail and you can feel his cock twitch in response, a gruff laugh vibrating from his chest.

“Oh fuck me, you’re evil,” he sighs. You give him another scratch in response, enjoying the pre-cum that coats your tongue after.

The size of him never fails to make you work for it, heavy against your tongue as your spit runs down your chin. The sounds you make are lewd, sloppy—his fingers push your head further, forcing you to make more. One hand reaches to fondle his balls, the other still resting against his pubes. The feeling leaves Logan breathless, involuntarily thrusting against the wet heat of your mouth.

There’s only a single thread of self-control stopping him from grabbing your head with both hands and fucking your mouth, and you needed it cut yesterday. You force his hands into your hair, stare up at him with your best bedroom eyes, then lap at his balls.

His reaction is heavenly—eyes rolled back, hips stuttering, stomach sucked in as he calls your name.

“Darlin’ you’re gonna kill me,” he huffs, taking your head in his heads. Your lips return to the head of his cock, suckling at his sensitive tip when his fingers tighten in your hair.

You see his eyes darken, your only warning coming in the form of a command. “Keep your mouth open for me doll.”

Your pussy throbs, tongue unraveled as every inch of him slips past your lips and into your throat. Your eyes roll at the feeling, nose touching that oh-so-divine hair that got you here in the first place.

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” he grunts, “Ready for me?”

You moan your approval around his thick length, then gag as he makes good on his word. Every thrust has your hands bracing against his thick thighs, forced to do everything in your power not to choke. Your eyes water, nose full of his musky scent, drool pooling down your chest so much that it leaves a stain against your shirt.

Your brain is filled with nothing but Logan—his taste, his smell, the sound of his moans—it sends your body into overdrive, grinding against the fabric of the couch as he continues to use you for his own pleasure. You’re almost certain you’re leaving a stain against the pillows.

“Real desperate for it huh?” He hisses, using your mouth as a toy. “Gonna cum just like this ain’t you?”

Your lust-addled brain can’t even begin to form a response, but Logan smiles at your fucked-out expression anyway. He doesn’t need you to confirm what he already knows.

When he comes it’s with a shout, leaving you choking against his cock as you struggle to swallow it all. What you can’t runs from the sides of your mouth, his dick coated in a mix of saliva and seed. You greedily gulp down air, a cock-drunk smile plastered against your features as you kiss at his softening cock, then bury your face and nuzzle again his happy trail, tasting the sweat that lingers. The sticky feeling between your legs makes you think at some point you came, pussy still throbbing with that familiar aftershock.

You look like hell, but damn it if you aren’t satisfied—hair a mess, spit and cum staining your skin, tears running down your cheeks—Logan thinks you’re beautiful like this.

“I know vacuums that got less suction than you, fucking hell,” Logan says, still out of breath from what was most certainly a mind-blowing orgasm. He leans down to kiss at your cum-stained lips, messy and unoriented. “Hope you’re ready for me to return the favor princess, because we ain’t finished.”

[vivwritescrappythings]

sworn sword

knight!könig x plus-size!fem!reader

part 1

there has been civil unrest in the kingdom, prompting the king and your father to hire a knight to protect you. thankfully it is a knight you already know.

tw: fem reader, plus size reader, mentions of body image, not proofread

wc: 1.8k

masterlist

—

“The king insisted upon having a knight guard you,” your father said, hands clasped behind his back as he faced you.

He stood in front of the large windows overlooking the courtyard and the rose gardens. Your father had been appointed to the King’s Counsel, moving himself and you to the royal palace while your mother stayed behind to handle the estate and your sister’s wedding to Ser Garrick.

You were brought along to the palace with the hope that it would make finding a husband easier. Of course it was quite the same as at home, just the competition broadened from just your sister to the entirety of the other women at court. You were still too soft around the edges while the other women were willowy and slight in their gowns.

It was hard to hold a candle to them.

“A knight?” You were hardly important enough to warrant a knight being hired to keep track of you. Perhaps a City Guard member would make more sense, but a knight was far too grand.

The king was being cautious. There had been a few attacks on members of the castle as of late—a lord on the counsel was roughed up outside of a pleasure house, and a few servants had been robbed of their coin for their daily shopping. There had been plenty of unrest in the kingdom after the death of the queen, the poor becoming poorer as the king scrambled for some semblance of control.

Your father gave you a look, silencing your next protest as you closed your mouth. Living in the palace already made you feel like a bug caught in a jar, eyes constantly scrutinizing your every move… every word. A personal knight would only make that worse, a shadow to follow you for every moment of every day.

“He has already been selected, so save your arguments.” Your eyebrows lifted, hands folded primly in your lap as you waited for your father to continue. The high-backed seat you were in was uncomfortable, arm rests digging into the plush of your things as you crossed your legs at the ankle.

He stopped at his desk and leaned forward to rest his palms on it. There was a moment of contemplation, his lips pursing like he was going to speak. You watched him look up at the large double doors across the room.

“You may enter,” your father called.

The heavy door creaked as it opened, your whole body twisted so you could get a proper view of who entered. The height of his shoulder against the door told you the knight was massive before he even stepped inside fully. The armor looked new, shiny and polished and dent-free—likely freshly gifted from the king himself.

Then rather than a face, a mask with two crude holes cut for eyes in the black fabric came into view above his bulk. Your heart started to race, your gaze meeting Ser Kilgore’s for a brief moment as he clasped his hands behind him and looked down at the stone floor.

“Ser Kilgore has already taken the oath to be your sworn protector,” your father said as you stood. The top of your head hardly reached Ser Kilgore’s shoulder, your eyes widening as you turned to face him.

He had not seemed so massive from the stands at the tourney.

“He will be with you from sun up to sun down until the king deems it safe enough for him to be dismissed.” You still balked at the knight, wondering if he had volunteered or been chosen. Of all the men in the kingdom, your father and the king had selected him. You brought the stuffed bear with you from home, it sat on the window sill in your chambers.

You remembered yourself after a beat of silence. “Thank you, Ser,” you breathed, curtsying even though he was not looking at you.

He let out a grunt of acknowledgement, still as silent as he was at the tourney. You wondered what his voice sounded like as he picked his head up. His blue eyes were piercing, crisp like a stream in winter. You felt pinned in place by his stare, swallowing thickly before averting your own eyes.

Your father shifting some papers on his desk reminded you of his presence.

“Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?” you asked your father, looking at him over your shoulder. He dismissed you with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand, turning his attention to the thick ledgers on his writing desk.

Ser Kilgore opened the door for you, following you into the hall at a few paces behind.

You had no idea what to do with the shadow that loomed over you all day. Ser Kilgore lingered at the edges of rooms and just outside doorways, silent and stoic. He never removed the covering over his face, never spoke. He only observed.

It made you realize just how boring your days were. You spent time with the other noble ladies at court—mostly the daughters of lords and the younger princesses—embroidering and having tea in the garden and gossiping with thinly veiled turns of speech.

Nothing you did warranted his constant protection, that was certain.

Part of you wanted to force him to speak to you–wanted to demand that he answer your questions. He conversed with no one, only nodding or shaking his head with other knights when they stood shoulder to shoulder.

Perhaps he lost his voice in an accident, you imagined gruesome images of Ser Kilgore surviving getting his throat slashed and vocal cords cut. You heard a story of a knight who had his throat crushed by a horse and still lived—could that be your knight?

Your knight. What an odd phrase.

His head was always covered, you had no clue what lingered beneath. But you were certainly curious.

Evening soon fell, your knight dutifully escorting you to your chambers. You walked next to him, his long stride shortened to match yours. It had taken you most of the afternoon to convince him to stop walking a few paces behind like a shadow. At least at your side you could pretend he was a companion rather than a sworn sword.

“Does this assignment bore you?” you finally asked, glancing up at him. It would bore you–watching a noble woman do nothing aside from chatter amongst other women and embroider handkerchiefs and walk the gardens all day seemed miserable.

Ser Kilgore shook his head, his light eyes cutting down to meet your questioning gaze. His eyes were the only part of him not covered: his blonde eyelashes were long and curly, his irises shining like aquamarines, the slivers of pale skin visible against the frayed fabric seemed delicate–there were a few thin edges of scars peeking around the fabric.

How desperately you wanted to pull the hood from his face and see the man underneath. You had been thinking about him ever since the tourney, fantasizing about what he sounded like, what he looked like beneath all of his armor.

You narrowed your eyes at his silent response, head cocking to one side as you inspected him. “Can you speak?” It might have been a rude thing to ask–your mother always informed you that you were far too brash for a respectable noble lady.

It never stopped you before.

He huffed softly–a laugh, you guessed. His eyes creased at the outer corners like he was smiling.

Another nod. You only ever earned yourself nods and head shakes.

“I have not seen you speak to another person all day.” It sounded accusatory rather than a simple observation. Well, you were accusing him. If he could speak, why would he choose silence? You resisted the urge to cross your arms over your chest like a petulant child.

Ser Kilgore shrugged his broad shoulders, still smiling beneath the mask.

You could scream with your frustration.

“Considering that we will be spending the majority of our time together from now on, I would appreciate it if you at least tried to speak with me,” you said, sounding more entitled than you intended to. “Existing in this castle is lonely—I never know who is truly my friend or friend or is simply trying to spy on my family—I would like to have someone to trust.”

Ser Kilgore looked at you for longer this time, head tilted down to take you in properly. You still followed the maze of hallways to your chambers, each one the same: braziers lining the walls and illuminating the tapestries and paintings hung up, sometimes there was the odd statue. The polished stone floor echoed your footsteps, the hallway otherwise quiet.

He did not shake his head in either direction: no affirmation or denial of your statement. Just a curious gaze taking in your expressions.

He stopped outside the polished wooden doors leading to your chambers, settling with his arms behind his back as he nodded for you to enter. His armor rattled a bit as he moved, the chainmail on his arms catching the light of the braziers lining the walls and throwing shadows across the stone.

“Goodnight, Ser Kilgore,” you finally huffed, slipping between him and the door. You knew you were being petulant like a child that did not get her way. You pouted anyways, lips pulling into a sort of frown.

The door was heavy to pull open, forcing you to put your whole weight into it. Ser Kilgore reached over you, a hand curling around the side of the door and opening it for you.

“Goodnight, my lady,” he responded, surprising you with his deep, accented tone. He sounded like he was from one of the eastern territories. Each vowel was clipped, consonants harsh. “If we are to be friends, call me König.”

You gaped at the sudden sound of his voice, stuck halfway inside the doorway. It was simple enough to tell that he was smiling that time, mirth shining in his eyes as he looked down at you.

A million questions to ask him flooded your mind. It felt like you had to keep him talking now that he spoke, part of you worrying that this opportunity would not occur again. You wanted to ask him why he picked you at the tourney—it had bothered you for months.

“My lady, we have already started heating water for your bath,” your maid Agatha said, drawing your attention. You glanced away from him for a moment, seeing her filling a wooden tub near the hearth with pails of water.

König nodded for you to go in, surveying the slice of the room he could see from the partially open door. The stuffed bear he gave you was visible, set atop a book on the window sill. He stared at it for a moment before redirecting his gaze back to you. You hesitated another moment before taking a step from where you had been rooted moments before.

“Goodnight, König,” you amended, earning a huff of laughter and a nod of acknowledgment as he allowed the door to swing closed behind you.

[im-just-a-boy-guys]

Vampire husband <3 (AFAB!) reader/ Fill in any hair, race, or size. This is open and I can guarantee this dress would look amazing on anyone. especially for this wonderful vampire.

He left a note on our bedside table that you woke up to see, in his beautiful cursive he wrote,

"Good morning, my beloved. there's a gift for you in the wardrobe across from the bed. do your hair how you like, drip yourself in any diamonds you choose, and meet me in the ballroom."

You squeal excitedly and run to the wardrobe, practically tripping over yourself. You open the doors to see the most beautiful gown.

A white corset led into a full ballgown bottom, with the base color being white. Laid over the fabric of the skirt was a sheer piece of material adorned with at least one thousand white diamonds. The corset was also decorated with the same diamonds, but scattered wonderfully across the entire dress; were what appeared to be Blood spatters. However, upon further inspection, they turned out to be the most beautiful rubies. Attached to the corset's shoulders were shining, off-the-shoulder sleeves that sparkled in the light.

you call one of the maids to help you with the corset and adjust the dress to your liking. you thanked the maid and sent her away so you could do your hair in your favorite hairstyle, which also happened to drive your lover crazy on more than one occasion.

You do your best at a natural makeup look, your skin glowing after your moisturizer, though you lace your eyelids with a soft, but dark red shadow that compliments your skin tone, followed by a blush that has the same effect.

You deeply contour your neck to accentuate it and choose a simple diamond, teardrop-shaped necklace. This would hopefully draw more attention to your neck by covering it less.

After spraying his favorite perfume on your neck and slipping on your white, sparkly heels, you walked to the stairs from your room, already able to hear your lover's fingers gliding across the ivory keys of his piano. This makes your heart swell as you glide down the carpeted stairs. His delicate hearing picks up your footsteps and he stands, waving his hand to encourage the piano to keep playing with his magic.

With a soft wooshing sound, he meets you at the bottom of the stairs, standing behind you with his hand on the waist of your corset. His breath teases your sensitive neck as his eyes devour every inch of you.

"Hello, Mon cher, how beautiful you look in that gown astounds me. I knew you'd look radiant. Dance with me?"

You practically fawn against him as you turn around, your chest to his. You nod, speechless as he takes your hand and leads you into the middle of the giant black-marbled floor, golds dancing across the black. You lean your head back joyfully as you relax into the dance, and the ceiling above you is painted with heavenly depictions of cherubs, the architecture, and the chandelier a bright, shining gold.

your stomach spins with your feet as you two dance, your heart pounds and you laugh. Your husband gazes down at you with a fanged, gentle smile. You can see his gaze lingering on your neck. This causes a blush to spread across your cheeks, showing through your makeup. He lifts you to himself and holds you strongly around the waist. Your feet lift off the ground and he proceeds to keep dancing with you as he buries his face in your neck.

"You're always so warm, and you smell so good. Your scent hungers me- and I an hear your heart pounding darling..."

This makes your breathing hitch in your throat and you can feel his fangs grazing your skin, a soft wet spot gathering on your undergarments. He takes a deep, shaky breath against your neck and begs quietly.

"May I? Please? I'm starving for you."

He sets you down carefully and kneels to one knee, clutching at the overlapping fabrics of your dress and looking up at you with his bright, pleading eyes. you can't say no to him, breathing deeply and nodding.

He stands quickly and pulls you to him once more, sinking his fangs deeply into your flesh and drinking from you needily. His arms hold you strongly around your waist, keeping you from moving barely an inch. As he drinks from you, you can feel the dizziness flooding your head.

You're not sure how much time passes, but after a while, he gently pulls you into a bridal-style position, carries you up the stairs, and lays you gently in your shared bed.

Somehow, your dress had been removed and lay gently over a chair in the corner of the room. Your eyes opened to see your husband undressing himself, looking over at you with that wonderful soft smile of his. You always swooned when you saw it, giggling and hiding your face in your soft pillows. He walks over to you and lays behind you, spooning you softly.

"Come here, face me."

you do as he says, met with a rough kiss, his fangs digging into your lips softly. you moan quietly and drape a leg over his waist, intertwining your fingers into his hair. The vampire pulls you on top of him and pushes his tongue between your lips.

Your hips, as if on cue begin to move and grind desperately against his bulge. He gasps and takes hold of your hips with his long fingers, digging his claws into you. You could feel the wet spot on your panties begin to grow against him, moaning lewdly into his ear.

Even though you don't have his flesh-piercing fangs you bite softly against his cold neck, sucking softly. His skin is slightly more living-looking due to him recently feeding on you, a soft pink tinting his body. The blood quickly gathers at the spot as you began to suck, his groans filling your ears, giving you more pleasure and incentive to grind.

You move your hips faster and faster as a tingle swirls around your clit, finding yourself close to climax. His cock throbs softly beneath you, encouraging your movement.

"Ah- Beloved- you feel- amazing..."

He breathes into your ear as he grips your hips tighter, his nails drawing a little blood. both of you pant like dogs as you lean into each other, desperate to finish with each other. He reaches behind you rips the fabric away from your drenched hole, and tears off his own. He quickly shoved himself inside of you, causing you to whine out.

Your husband's eyes roll back into his head as he moves his hips rapidly against you, thrusting roughly against your walls. Your walls clench tightly against his length as your body refuses to hold its climax any longer you squirt over his lower half.

"Oh my- God yes!"

He pushes himself as far into you as he could and his cum fills you to the brim, surprisingly warm. You rest your head on his chest, your hair a mess and had come out of its hairstyle, frizzy in all directions. You and your husband laugh with each other as he cuddles you close.

After a while of cuddling, he helps you to your feet and leads you into your bathroom. He helps you into the tub and runs the warm tap, using a small glass to rinse you off before plugging the water. He smiled at you lovingly as he poured an almond milk bath into your bath water and lavender petals.

"I am so deeply in love with you."

He pampered you for the rest of the night, with face masks, lotions, and moisturizers. Anything to make you feel more comfortable. Then you had a glorious dinner full of all of your favorite foods.

[writingwisterias]

A restless Wife

ID!Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Sex, Doggy Style, Fingering, Oral (M receiving), Sonomophilla, Dumfication, Cock Drunk

You watched as his chest slowly rose and fell with even breaths. He looks so calm and peaceful like this, the worries and stress always etched on his face finally faded away. Leon's plump lips were parted slightly as soft snores filtered into the room's ambience; his hands were held protectively over your growing stomach. As much as you loved how attentive and kind he had been the past few months you were now beginning to get restless, your body craved for more. The heat in your lower stomach was becoming harder to snuff out, the burning wildfire fueled by your husband walking around in his work suit. Or when he would tinker with his bike in the garage on a hot day, oil spattering up his muscular arms as you hung up the endless amounts of washing. You tried not to get flustered as he flashed you a smirk when he caught you staring for too long.

Your fingers traced the veins and small scars littered along his hand, each telling their story of how he got them. Small hairs littered the back of his hand, their presence made known as they tickled the pads of your fingers. Maybe it was your own fault you were this turned on? Thinking about the way the digits would flex and curl deep against your inner walls, or imagining the sounds they would make as your arousal coated them. Your thighs parted for the man who was lying next to you, dreaming peacefully as you fidgeted against the fabric below you in frustration. Just as if he was playing some joke, his body moved away from you, giving you the space his subconscious assumed you needed. Your large belly makes it hard for you to get comfy, his body heat often proves to be too much for you in your sleep. All things his brain had adjusted to since the start of your pregnancy but right now it was making you mad.

Your fingers danced along the waistband of his sweatpants; you had both spoken in the past about waking each other up to these sorts of activities but neither of you have done...at least not since the pregnancy. Leon had been sure to be careful with this, always being gentle and caring, opting to wank himself off or use your pretty mouth to get his release instead of cumming inside you like before. Whilst it was sweet you craved to be rammed by his girthy cock, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate his size, just like you did before you fell pregnant. Your fingers followed the trail of hair that went down the middle of his abs, a perfect arrow towards the prize that you craved.

It surprised you that he had yet to wake, that the small snores still fell through his lips, the warmth of his breath teasing your neck as goosebumps began to spread over your arms. Your hands finally slipped in, tracing his half-hard erection through his underwear, soft whimpers began to spill from his lips and his hips adjusted so you could access the area better. If only it wasn't for your belly you would already be crawling down the bed, freeing his cock from his clothed prison and placing kitten kisses along the underside of it. Your mouth began to water at the thought of the taste of his cock. Leon's hands twitched against the bed sheets, his fingers gripping the fabric tightly as the night chill breezed against his weeping tip as you exposed it. Your fingers gathered the cum that slowly began to drip off from his slit using it as lubrication as your hand ran up and down the length. You watched eagerly as his eyebrows pinched together the pleasure slowly rousing him from his slumber. Perhaps you should stop when he finally woke, leaving him to tend to himself like he has done this past couple of months but you were so desperate for the feel of his thrusts against you that you kept going.

Admiring the flushed tip as it began to darken along with his cock hardening under your touch. It was now hot and heavy in your hands, the angle you were working at was beginning to cramp, and he still hadn't awoken yet. You groaned lowly as your hand left his cock needing it to help you adjust your weight as you slowly bought yourself to your knees. Leon felt you move, his body slowly beginning to wake as he felt you move around on the mattress assuming it was just another attempt to get comfy like usual. But his eyes widened as he felt your lips encase his cock, your tongue scooping up the salty taste of him. His head shot up to you working on him, your drool already spilling down your chin, your breasts hanging heavy as you knelt before him. He leant up on his elbows, his movements catching your attention. You grinned around his cock, happy he was finally awake, his eyes squinted as he tried to find yours in the dimly lit room. "Sweetheart, what are you doing?" he grunted out, sleep heavy within in his voice. His hand moved to stroke your hair lovingly as you continued to work. Leon groaned as you pulled away from him, a line of drool following your lips. "I need you, it aches so much"

You were in no mood to tease or play, your underwear was damp with your arousal you could feel it against your legs as you sat back on your knees. Leon looked at your goddess form, your breasts resting against your stomach, your nipples poking against the fabric of his shirt. Your hair was messy from the small amount of sleep you had managed to get, the moonlight highlighted the dribble that decorated your chin. His perfect pregnant wife. "Lay down then love, get in position for me" he demanded as he began to sit up - pulling the rest of his boxers with him as he moved. "No Leon, I mean it, I really need you" You whimpered, the gusset of your underwear was beginning to stick to your pussy, the cold air fighting against the heat coming from the area.

Leon looked at you again, he would be lying if he didn't desperately want to bury himself deep into your gummy walls, yet the responsible part of his brain was worried about your state, and what it could do to you whilst you were just over halfway with your pregnancy. "Baby- I want to really" he tried to reason, it broke his heart as you resulted in pulling your puppy dog's face. Your doe eyes blinking at him, begging him to come closer, your bottom lip jutted out innocently. His cock was twitching like mad against his stomach, pre cum connecting his happy trail to the tip with a line. You watched his internal battle happen, trying to suppress the grin as his eyes scanned over your frame, his heavy cock thumping against him as he thought about it.

Leon eventually nodded, smiling as your face lit up with excitement. "Anyone would think I don't please you enough if they saw this sweetheart" he teased as he watched you leant forward attempting to capture his lips into a heated kiss. Leon groaned as he tasted himself on your tongue. His fingers toyed at the hem of his shirt before lifting it over your head. He paused a moment to take in your frame, your soft skin glowing with the beams of moonlight that slipped through the blinds. "Fucking hell" he muttered under his breath. His hands began to tweak and pinch your hardened nipples, his lips capturing the moans that left your lips. "These feel so heavy baby, I bet they ache so much" he whispered against your neck as he pulled away, leaving marks as he moved his way down towards the valley of your breasts. His lips encased one of the sensitive buds, his tongue circling it as he sucked against them. His other hand groped and tweaked the other breast. You whimpered at the feeling, your core fighting as you could feel your orgasm creeping in. Leon focused on your breasts, making sure to give them the attention they deserved, your fingers entwined themselves in the rough strands of his hair, tugging him closer to your chest.

Your head was thrown back as you stayed on your knees, your hips circling trying to gain any form of friction as you desperately tried to bring yourself closer to the edge. You could feel his rough fingers run down your sides, tracing delicate patterns down towards your clit. He pressed a finger against your clit, giving you something to grind against as you bought yourself to your first orgasm. He smiled against your chest as your hips sputtered finally reaching the sweet release. "Uh- Leon" You gasped bringing your head to rest against his shoulder as your body calmed down. "So good for me momma" he whispered, his breath cooling at the spot he was just sucking against.

His hands found your hips, drawing idle circles on them as he nudged his shoulder to bring your attention to him. "Are you sure you'll be fine love?" he questioned, eyes scanning for any hint of hesitation. If you weren't pregnant you would have pressed him into the mattress and rode him until he was nothing but a whimpering mess beneath you, but you definitely didn't have the stamina to keep up with that anymore. Instead, you moved yourself to all fours, presenting your clothed pussy to him, the dampness evident in your actions enough to display your need. Leon stifled a groan as the pads of his fingers stroked the damp fabric, he was only trying to do what he thought was right but look at his poor needy wife. "I'm so sorry momma, I didn't realize how unsatisfied I've left you all these months. Let me correct that huh?" he spoke as he removed the barrier, his hands gripping your hips lining you up against his tip.

The moan you let out was almost animalistic as you felt his tip push through your wet folds, the stretch was painful but welcome after so many months of neglect. His thrusts were slow and steady at first as if he was still holding back. He let go of all control when he felt your hips rock back into him. His grip tightened as he brought your hips back towards him manually, his grunts filling the room along with the sound of the two of you connecting. If you didn't know otherwise you would have thought a porno was being filmed in here. Leon's head fell back your name was being chanted like a mantra as he thrust his cock deeper into you. "Oh, sweetheart can you feel how deep inside you I am?" He whispered in your ear as he leaned over your body, pressing you into an arch as he desperately tried to get deeper. "Y-yes Leon"

"Is this what you wanted? Your puffy little pussy needed to clench around my cock?" He grunted as his thrusts began to get sloppy the closer he got to his own release. "Such a need girl, needing to be filled up again by me, should have known after how horny you were during the making process" His filthy words made your head spin, your arms becoming weak underneath you as he hooked himself over your hips. His cock bottomed out with each thrust. Your hands clawed at the sheets in front of you, your face pressed against them and he pushed you further into the mattress. Leon could feel your walls suck him in, he could barely pull back out with how greedy your pussy was being. "Speak to me darling" He muttered against your ear. You tried desperately but the words were lost each time he moved his hips, each time you felt the length of him split you open further. His balls slapped against your clit with the speed he was moving. "Look at you, all cock drunk. such a silly girl. You should have just asked. But then you wouldn't have been a good girl and warmed me up" He spoke.

Your mind was barely taking in what he was saying, you could barely warn him before your orgasm exploded through your body. Your juices coating his length. The force of your orgasm almost pushed him out. Leon groaned loudly before spilling himself deep inside you, You moaned finally feeling the warmth of his seed coat your walls yet again. It was an effort to not collapse onto you once he had orgasmed, instead, he leant back on his knees, taking your body with him as his cock still sat snugly inside of you.

"Fucking hell" Leon whispered as he slowly pulled his softening cock out of you. He helped you gently lay back against him, his hand stroking your hair, whispering sweet nothings as you slowly came back. "I'm so sorry sweetheart for leaving you this needy" he whispered, laying kisses against the crown of your head. "Never do it again" you finally chuckled looking up at him. Leon smirked, his blue eyes twinkling with adoration as he looked down at your body. "I will say, I'll never be mad if you wake me up like that again love" he chuckled. You smiled at him, hands coming to rest against your enlarged stomach. Leon's hands covered your own. Moving them soothingly against the bump "So beautiful" he said. You smiled dopily at him; tiredness finally creeping in. Leon adjusted the both of you so he could hold you as you slept, loving the skin-to-skin contact as you both finally fell into a slumber. Completely satisfied for once.

[rainrot4me]

TW: Size difference, monster fucking, tentacles, vaginal, just the tip

𐚁₊⊹

Slenderman had such a distaste for humans.

They were weak, greedy little creatures. The only purpose they served to him was completing tasks or scurrying for his praise, bending over hand and foot just for a sliver of his mercy. His disdain for them was never ending.

He was formidable, a force to be feared and respected.

So, why couldn’t he hold that power over you?

“Ooh… fuck- So big…”

Because you had him wrapped around your finger, that’s why.

“Ah- C’mon-”

Tentacles glided across your skin, gripping tight onto your arms and waist as you whined. The cryptid wasn’t even inside of your dripping cunt yet, but you were already a stuttering little mess. He loved it, could never get enough of just how excited you could get him.

You pressed your shoulders back into his chest, an angry huff as you force your shaking thighs lower. Slender’s desk chair was creaking as you shifted, his claws dug firmly into the fabric of the armrests while you tried so pitifully to press his tip into the tight ring of muscle at your warm entrance.

“Easy, love.” He groaned, sliding another tentacle between your thighs to rub against your clit, trying to easily open you up.

“Give it to me…” You’re near childish now, hips stuttering once again as his cock slips from your entrance and between your soaked lips.

You both wanted it so bad, frustrated whines and near tears as you let his length spread between your lips, gathering all of your slick and arousal to rut against your clit.

“Now. I need it now, Slender. Jesus-”

If anyone else talked to him like that, they’d be sprayed across the ceiling. But when your near-snarled command has his shaft twitching against you, there’s only so much he can do.

His claw is reaching to wrap around the back of your neck, pushing you forward until your flushed cheek presses against the cold wood of his desk.

You readjust, spreading your legs across his and arching your back deep enough for him to see your glistening cunt, so ready and needy. Your hands grip into the wood, clawing in anticipation.

“Nowww…”

“Fuck, little thing. Hold on-”

He’s wrapping tentacles across your back, snaring your wrists back to hold them behind you. Another comes to wrap around the base of his cock, his claw still gripped firmly against the nape of your neck and holding you still against his desk.

He’s pushing his cock head back against your entrance, the tight ring so unforgiving as he pulls your hips back.

“Oh fuck-”

A long his comes from your gritted teeth as you feel the sting. Slender’s slowly bobbing your hips back and forth, popping the slit of his cock in and out as he works you open slowly. You’re writhing, pushing back against his grasp on you, tears puffing in the corners of your eyes.

“Easy… Open up for me. C’mon, love, be good…”

He’s trying his best to coax you, tentacles splayed across your abdomen and sliding between the lips of your pussy to relax your body.

He’s never given this much effort for anyone, but he’d gladly spend the rest of the night stretching you loose.

You nearly scream when the bulbous head of his cock slips past your pulsing entrance and into the sweet grip of your cunt. Slender’s gripping your neck, the muscles on his face tensing and straining at the intoxicating feeling of your tight walls nearly sucking him in.

Tears fall from your eyes, his tentacles hauling your hips back to gently ride on the roundness of his tip. The muscle catches, you blubbering as he pulls out- just to push right into the ring again.

“Let’s see if we can’t get you to cum like this, hm?”

He can’t stand humans, but he’d happily waste his time on this one.

[transform4u]

I've been working out at the gym trying to grow my ass and shape my body for this really cute gay guy I've been trying to attract. I heard him say once how much he likes the 'big jock butt' look, but it doesn't seem like he'll ever give me the time of day no matter what I do. I don't understand what is so special about those sweaty, farting straight douchebags he keeps drooling over. Please, I just wish he would finally start giving that attention to me!

You're at the gym, eyeing the squat rack with determination, hoping to catch the gaze of your crush. As you count through your final set—“99… 100”—a sigh of relief escapes your lips, but it’s quickly followed by an obnoxious faaaaaaaarrrrrt that echoes embarrassingly through the gym. You wince, nostrils flaring as the odor hits you, and your face flushes with mortification.

Suddenly, an odd sensation washes over you. Your nose begins to spread wider and wider, and as your face transforms, you realize you’re getting taller. A deep grunt escapes you, a mix of confusion and surprise. Looking down, you notice your butt starting to swell outward, filling with muscle and fat, creating a perfectly rounded bubble butt. You can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of it all—only for another faaaaaaaaarrrrrrt to escape, your newly enhanced rear jiggling in response.

PFFFFFFFFFFFT

In disbelief, you watch as your twig-like body begins to expand. Your biceps swell to the size of small watermelons, bulging dramatically whenever you flex. Veins snake along their surface, accentuating the sinewy striations that tell the story of your relentless effort. Your triceps form a thick horseshoe shape, swelling and tightening, showcasing a level of definition that seems almost too extreme.

Your chest expands, thick pecs resembling slabs of granite, rising and falling with every breath. They push against the fabric of your shirt, each muscle sharply defined with deep grooves separating your pectorals. When you flex, they pulse with impressive energy, demanding attention.

Glancing down further, you see your abs becoming sculpted, each six-pack tile standing out with startling clarity. The definition is so sharp it looks almost carved, the ridges of your obliques flaring impressively. Your shoulders broaden, deltoids jutting out like armor plating, creating an imposing silhouette that radiates raw power.

And your quads—massive and powerful—now rival tree trunks in size, bulging impressively when you stand. Each muscle group is distinct, deep separations highlighting the effort you’ve put into leg day.

Your face becomes rugged and defined, with a strong jawline and prominent cheekbones framing an expression of confidence and intensity. Your eyes glint with fierce energy, reflecting your newfound strength, while a five o’clock shadow adds to your masculine appearance.

You stand there, a towering figure exuding raw power and intensity, every muscle exaggerated to a cartoonish degree, commanding attention and respect. You’ve become a living testament to the extremes of bodybuilding, showcasing both the allure of physical prowess and the commitment required to achieve such an extraordinary physique.

As you continue your workout, you start to notice a pungent odor lingering in the air. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you take a moment to sniff around, eventually burying your nose in your armpit. The realization hits—you’re the source of this overwhelming stench. At first, disgust washes over you, but then a grin creeps across your face. After all, real men sweat, and today you’ve really pushed yourself. The smell divides your thoughts, draining you of anything other than working out and fucking.

You dive back into your routine, cranking up the intensity. Each rep feels powerful as you lift, the weight pressing down but fueling your energy. You let out loud, determined grunts, each one echoing through the gym, a testament to your focus and strength.

You start to forget about your crush entirely; the gym becomes your arena. You throw yourself into the workout, muscles straining and bulging with every movement. Your voice rises above the clatter of weights, hollering encouragement to yourself, “Come on! You’ve got this!” The sound reverberates off the walls, drawing attention as you embody the essence of an alpha male, fully absorbed in the moment.

You notice the way your body responds to the challenge. Each squat, each lift, feels exhilarating, and the sweat drips down your brow, mixing with the scent that now seems oddly affirming. You flex your arms, feeling the biceps swell with every contraction, and let out a hearty laugh. You revel in the sheer power of your movements, forgetting everything else. Your focus sharpens, and you become a force of nature, driven by the primal urge to push your limits and prove your strength. This is your moment, and you’re owning it.

After an intense workout, you find yourself eager to linger your sweaty clothes. Your skin glistens with sweat, a sheen of moisture that seems to magnify the curves of your body. You can smell the intense musk wafting off your glistening body- the sheer volume of perspiration dripping down your chest and back is undeniable. Rivulets stream steadily over your defined pecs, abs and butt crack, leaving damp streaks on your taut, lean muscle.

As you lean forward, arching your back slightly, you release an earthy, obnoxious fart. The wet rippling sound echoes obscenely through the air as the hot gust rumbles out of your shapely rear end with authority. Your cheeks clap and jiggle from the force of it. "Hoooo weee, that one definitely was a rank one lordy!" you remark gleefully, giving a proud little wiggle.

You strut throughout the gym, feeling confident and self-assured. Your chiseled physique is on full display, muscles rippling beneath your tight shirt. You make sure to flex at just the right moments, drawing the eye to your impressive physique.

Every set of eyes in the room is drawn to you. Women of all ages and sizes can't help but stare, admiring your good looks and oozing charisma. You preen under their attention, reveling in the power you have over them.

As you walk by, you catch snippets of conversation from nearby gym-goers. "Did you see that guy? I'd totally fuck him." *"He's so hot, I bet he's great in bed." Their whispers follow you, a trail of lustful admiration in your wake. You saunter over to the free weights, determined to show off even more. You start doing bicep curls, grunting with each rep. Then you notice him. This pathetic faggot dude ogling you from across the room. He's been following your every move for months, and you finally caught onto him. You remember him coming up to you in the locker room a few weeks ago, trying to grind against you. But at the time, you brushed it off as another wannabe trying to get into your pants. Little did you know he would become obsessed with you and your sweaty fucking ass, stalking your every move in this place.

You continue on your routine, pushing weights and doing pullups as the faggot trails behind you. You catch glimpses of him peering over his shoulder at you, biting his lip in anticipation. It pisses you off, seeing someone so desperate for a piece of you. Why would they waste their time chasing something that's clearly out of reach? You finish up and head towards the treadmill to warm up for the next set of reps.

As you approach the treadmill, you spot a gorgeous blonde woman running on it. Her toned legs are glistening with sweat, and her sports bra clings tightly to her ample breasts. You can't help but stare at her jiggling tits as she runs, imagining how soft and supple they must feel. She catches you eyeing her and flashes you a coy smile, arching her back slightly to accentuate her curves. You feel your cock stir in your shorts at the sight of her. She's just too fucking hot.

Unable to resist, you saunter over to her, your eyes never leaving her body. "Hey there," you say with a smirk. "Love watching yourself run?" She turns to face you, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving. "Mmm, maybe you should join me," she purrs, giving me a once-over. You step closer, reaching out to grab her ass and give it a firm squeeze. "Yeah, this'll do" you say with a smirk.

[domm1etae]

in every shape

mingi x f!reader

oneshot | mdni

2.3k

Mingi’s gained some weight since the tour began, and he’s struggling with his body image. But to you, he’s never looked better, and you can’t resist showing him just how irresistible he really is

nsfw tags under

f/m, top mingi, pet names, i love yous, praises, body worship, oral sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, teasing, size kink, multiple orgasms, neck kissing

Mingi stood in front of the hotel room mirror, eyes roaming over his reflection, his shoulders slumping slightly. He was quiet, but you could sense the tension radiating off him. After a moment, he muttered under his breath, barely audible.

"I need to lose weight."

You perked up from where you were lounging on the bed, pretending you hadn’t heard his whispered confession. "Hmm? What did you say?" Your voice was gentle, curious, hoping he’d say it again, though the truth behind his words already tugged at your heart.

He hesitated, biting his lip as he turned to glance at you, his expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "I said…" He exhaled sharply. "I need to lose weight." His hand swept over his body as if emphasizing the problem, a soft growl of irritation escaping him. "I don’t know how I let myself get like this. I didn’t even realize…"

You sat up on the bed, your gaze soft as you crawled to the edge and reached for him, your fingers toying with the hem of his oversized shirt. "Get like what, Mingi? Like you don’t look absolutely delicious?" A teasing grin played on your lips, hoping to ease the tension building in his mind.

He scoffed, but it lacked conviction, his eyes dropping to the floor. "I’ve gained weight, babe. I mean, look at me." He waved a hand down his body in frustration. "I’m not in shape like I was before the tour. I just—" He sighed again, cutting himself off, clearly struggling to find the right words.

You shake your head at him, your heart aching a little at his self-doubt. Pulling at the fabric of his shirt, you expose a sliver of his skin. "Oh, I’m looking, trust me." You raise an eyebrow at him, slowly kissing the exposed skin. "And what I see is a man who looks damn good."

His body stiffened slightly at your touch, his breath catching. "Sexy?" he echoed, disbelief written all over his face. "I don't think that's the word you’re looking for. I’ve been eating too much, barely working out… I don’t feel like myself anymore."

You sit back a little, taking in the sight of him. He had filled out a bit, his broad frame looking a little softer, his thighs thicker, and his stomach no longer as flat as it once was. But he still looked amazing to you, more than amazing. "Mingi, you’re still so damn sexy. You look healthy. Honestly, I don’t even think you realize how much harder it is for me to keep my hands off you."

He snorted lightly, shaking his head. "Healthy? I feel heavy. I hate it."

You tug his shirt up a little higher, planting a few more kisses along his belly. "Heavy, maybe. But heavy can be hot, and you? You’re making it very hot." Your voice lowered into a sultry purr as your lips lingered on his skin.

He seemed to hesitate, torn between what he saw in the mirror and what you were saying. "You’re just saying that to make me feel better…" His fingers brushed through your hair, his tone soft but uncertain.

You hummed in response, your hands sliding up his thighs. "Oh no, I’m not. Trust me, I’m saying this because I can’t stop thinking about how good you look right now. I’ve been trying to keep my hands to myself, but…" You give his hips a gentle tug, pulling him closer. "Why should I when you look this damn good?"

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to argue, but when your lips trailed down to his waistband, the words seemed to slip from his mind. He watched you, his breathing growing heavier, but he couldn’t help one last protest. "I don’t… understand why you think this is attractive."

You pull back slightly and meet his gaze, your eyes filled with sincerity. "Because, Mingi, you're more than just some perfectly sculpted figure. You look strong, healthy, like you’re actually taking care of yourself. I love this… I love you, no matter what you think of yourself." You smiled up at him, pressing one more kiss to his stomach. "You’re sexy just as you are, but if you want to lose weight, that’s your choice. I’m just saying… I like you this way."

His face softened, though the doubt still lingered in his expression. "You really mean that?"

"Every word," you answer, pulling him towards you until he was close enough for you to wrap your arms around his waist. "Now come here. Let me show you how much I love this body of yours."

He let out a soft, surprised laugh as you began tugging at his waistband, a mix of uncertainty and curiosity in his eyes as you unbuttoned his jeans. "Y-you don’t have to do this…"

You shook your head, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, but I want to." Mingi’s breath hitched as you slid his jeans down his hips, revealing the hard lines of his thighs. He shifted awkwardly, unsure of how to react. His fingers twitched as he stared down at you, still hesitant despite the heat building between you.

"You know you drive me crazy, right?" you say softly, trailing your hands over the firm muscles of his thighs. "I’m not doing this to make you feel better. I’m doing this because I want to. You look so damn good, and I’ve missed you."

Mingi let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his muscles visibly relaxing as your words sank in. He still seemed unsure, but the desire in his eyes was undeniable as you ran your tongue teasingly along the edge of his waistband.

His voice was shaky when he spoke again, "I… don’t get why you like this version of me so much." He groaned softly as your hands slid higher, gently squeezing his hips. "I thought you’d prefer me the way I used to be—leaner, fitter."

You paused, looking up at him with a serious expression. "Mingi, I didn’t fall in love with just your body. I fell for you." You pressed a soft kiss against his skin, right where his waistband met his lower abdomen, your lips lingering as if to emphasize your words. "You’re sexy no matter what shape you’re in, but this?" You tugged lightly at his underwear, your breath ghosting over his skin. "This body is just as perfect as any other version of you."

Mingi shuddered at the contact, and finally, his hands found your shoulders, pulling you up gently so he could look you in the eyes. "I don’t think I deserve you," he muttered, his voice low and sincere. "You’re too good to me."

"You deserve everything," you whisper back, brushing your lips lightly against his. "And I’m going to keep proving that to you." With that, you deepen the kiss, your hands working to slide his underwear down and free his length.

His breath hitched again as your fingers ghosted over him, his body trembling in anticipation. But just before you could lower yourself again, he gently tugged you back up. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes dark with something more than just lust—something deeper, more vulnerable.

"Babe, wait." Mingi’s voice was soft, but his grip on your wrists was firm as he held you there, his gaze locking with yours. "I… I want to make you feel good too."

You blinked at him, surprised. "You don’t have to—"

"I want to," he cut you off, his expression serious as he gently pushed you down onto the bed, flipping the roles. His lips brushed your ear as he leaned over you, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. "You’ve been so focused on me… but I want to focus on you now."

You let out a small gasp as he pinned your wrists above your head, his body pressing against yours, the heat radiating off him in waves. "M-Mingi…" You tried to form a coherent sentence, but the feel of his lips trailing along your neck made it impossible to focus.

"I’m not done with you yet," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. He kissed his way down your throat, his free hand sliding under your shirt and gently squeezing your breast. "You thought I’d just let you do all the work?"

His lips found the sensitive skin at the base of your neck, sucking lightly and leaving a mark that made your breath hitch. "Y-you’re such a tease…" you manage to gasp, your back arching as his hand slid lower, teasing the waistband of your pants.

Mingi smirked against your skin, his kisses growing rougher as his free hand slipped inside your pants, his fingers brushing over the damp fabric of your underwear. "And you love it," he growled playfully, his voice dripping with confidence now, the self-doubt from earlier starting to fade away.

You let out a needy whimper as he ran his fingers teasingly along your slit, the friction making your hips buck against his hand. "Stop… teasing…" you pleaded, your voice breathless.

He chuckled softly, his lips finding your ear as he nipped lightly at your earlobe. "I like it when you beg." His fingers pressed more firmly against your core, making you cry out softly in response.

"Mingi, please…" you moaned, your body writhing beneath him as he finally slid your underwear to the side and ran his fingers over your soaked folds.

The deep groan that escaped his throat at the feel of you only made the heat in your belly grow. "God, you're so wet," he muttered, his voice low and rough as he slipped a finger inside you, earning a gasp from your lips.

Your hands, still pinned above your head, clenched into fists as you squirmed beneath him, desperately craving more. "Mingi, I—"

"You’re so sensitive," he murmured, slipping another finger inside you and curling them just right. His thumb rubbed slow, torturous circles over your clit, and your back arched, your body reacting to his every touch.

"I-I can’t…" you whimpered, your head falling back against the pillows as your body trembled.

"You can," Mingi whispered, his voice soothing but filled with desire. His lips found yours in a heated kiss, swallowing your moans as he sped up his fingers, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Come for me."

That was all it took. His fingers thrust deeper, hitting that perfect spot, and your entire body convulsed as you came hard around him. A loud cry of his name tore from your throat as the pleasure washed over you, your body trembling beneath him.

Mingi watched you intently, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as you fell apart in his arms. "That’s my girl," he murmured softly, slowing his movements to let you ride out your orgasm.

You were still panting, your body twitching with aftershocks as he pulled his hand from you and brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a low groan. "You taste so good," he muttered, his voice thick with lust as he looked down at you, still flushed and breathless.

Before you could even recover, he was back on you, his lips pressing hot kisses down your chest, leaving a trail of heat along your skin. "Mingi…" you breathed, your voice shaky as he hovered over you, his gaze intense.

"You didn’t think we were done, did you?" he teased, his breath hot against your skin. He positioned himself between your legs, his length pressing against your dripping entrance. "I’m just getting started."

Before you could respond, he slid into you with one hard, smooth thrust, both of you gasping at the overwhelming pleasure. His hips snapped forward, setting a relentless pace, and the only sounds in the room were the sound of your moans and the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin.

Mingi’s head tilted back, his lips parted as he let out a deep, guttural groan, the feeling of you wrapped around him driving him wild. "Fuck, babe…" he grunted, his hands gripping your hips as he pounded into you harder, deeper.

Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you struggled to keep up with the intensity. "Mingi… I-I’m close again," you whimpered, your body already on the verge of another orgasm.

"Come for me again," he growled, his hand slipping between your bodies to rub fast circles over your clit. "I want to feel you come around me."

The heat in your belly exploded, and with one final thrust, you screamed his name as you came hard around him, your walls fluttering and clenching down on his length.

Mingi groaned loudly, the sensation of you tightening around him sending him over the edge. With a few more rough thrusts, he followed you into release, his hips jerking as he filled you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.

When the waves of pleasure finally subsided, Mingi collapsed beside you, both of you panting heavily. He pulled you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your skin still tingling from the intensity of it all.

"Maybe… I won’t worry so much about the weight," Mingi whispered, his breath still ragged. His fingers traced lazy circles on your arm as he cuddled you close.

You smiled, snuggling into his chest. "Good. Because you’re perfect just the way you are."

He let out a small chuckle, pressing another kiss to your temple. "If this is how you’re going to convince me, I might never work out again."

You laugh softly, playfully swatting his chest. "Oh no, I didn’t say all that."

Mingi grinned down at you, his eyes warm and filled with affection. "Either way… thank you. For everything."

You kissed his chest softly, nuzzling into him with a content sigh. "I love you, Mingi. Just remember that."

"I love you too, babe," he whispered, pulling you even closer as you both drifted off into a peaceful, satisfied sleep.

[valentine-cafe]

Thank you so much for the chubby reader almond jelly request! I absolutely loved it!

Now I think about a berry crumble with a chubby gn!reader (afab bodied) thats tiny compared to him (think 4’11)— how tempting they must look to him. Like a soft and ripe summer peach ready to be bitten, having his teeth sink into their flesh.

And oh how he wants to devour them for this temptation, for how it makes his fingers twitch just thinking about digging into their doughy skin as he roughly claims what’s his. He practically salivates at the thought of it. The size difference makes him itch to just loom over them and cage their rounded body in his strong arms.

Ah, thinking many, many thoughts

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ verseless jìngyí

. ˚◞꒰ 🥞 ꒱ necromancer x afab!reader, demon x afab!reader, alchemist x afab!reader ⊹ ۪ ࣪ 

he entertains these thoughts a lot. the idea of your flesh jiggling with every heavy thrust as he flushed you against one of his potion tables. the slapping of your skin and the wet noises that would fill his alchemy room.

you’re so much smaller than him. he could twist and bend you in so many different ways. especially in his different forms. the idea of having you so completely and utterly at his mercy makes him hard just thinking about it.

many nights has he had to stroke himself at the idea. especially after you visit the potion shop with those outfits of yours that leave little to the imagination. oh does he want to pull you round back. rip his claws through the fabric and have you bouncing back against his cock.

oh was he ecstatic when he had you in his clutches. bent over his counter with your small body shivering. how perfectly your body moulds into his squishing hands as he yanks your panties down and rubs the head of his throbbing dick along your slit.

“fuck. . . so small.” he bites on his lip. groaning at the way you are already whining around his tip. “think you will be able to take it all, sweetheart?”

the demon cranes his towering body over yours. teeth latching to your shoulder to leave another bite mark along you soft skin.

at your desperate nodding and needy bucking of your hips back - as though trying to take his cock as deep as you possibly could - he gives you what you desire and slams his hips forward. grunting at the sight of your ass rippling at the abrupt thrust.

he wants to see more of it. he needs to. so he’ll cling onto your plush thighs and keep them flush together. fuck into your tight little cunt until you’re gasping. whining over his counter.

all while he drags you back on his throbbing dick. again and again. forcing more of himself into your little opening and stuffing you full.

hunched over your quivering form and whispering the most degrading things to your ear. combined with slews of praise. telling you how well you take him. how little you are compared to him.

at some point he’d reach around you. cupping your breasts with both clawed hands and ramming into you so erratically from behind. grunts and gasps leaving him as he loses himself to the feel of your clenching, cumming cunt.

temptation be damned. this is a need. a need to play with your little body and stuff you full for hours.

[doeidawn]

☁︎ — see you next saturday

a night at the bar turns interesting when a masked stranger crosses your path. he's far from approachable, but something about him draws you in until you're coming to the bar every weekend just to see him. he's enigmatic and exciting—exactly what you needed to interrupt the monotony of life. 11.2k

⟢ pairing: ghost x f!reader

⟢ tags: MDNI/18+; author is american and apologizes in advance—this probably isn't how bars in the UK are, sorry; ghost is unnamed for 95% of the fic but it pays off; alcohol consumption (no one gets drunk, it's just some sipping); awkward first meeting; slow-burn??? idk sex doesn't happen til the very end; implied size difference; biker!ghost; semi-public sex; fingering; table sex; praise; unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it); oral sex [m receiving]; facial

Another excited cheer from the table behind you tells you that one of the football teams on screen has scored. Though you couldn’t care less about the game, you catch a glance at the television hung on the wall near the bar to watch the score rise. Aside from sipping on the same drink and watching people filter in and out all night, you didn’t have anything better to do, anyway.

A night out at the bar probably wasn’t the most efficient use of your time, or your money, but after a week of grueling work and the ever-increasing stress of life, it felt nice to ignore everything for a while. As long as you didn’t drink enough to hate yourself the next morning, who were you to deny yourself some fun? Well, as fun as watching drunk people mingle could be. A cheap local bar wouldn’t give way for much excitement.

You were almost thankful for that. The wrong kind of excitement only would’ve added to the weight on your shoulders. Yet, a part of you still yearned for something more than the monotony of asking the bartender for another round while your eyes scanned the crowds. Only two drinks in and already you were practically praying for an interesting face to look your way and add something that resembled anticipation to your life.

You set your glass down on the bartop with a sigh. Another cheer comes from your left, drawing your attention towards the table of patrons with their eyes glued to the television wearing their excited smiles. It’s only a momentary glance, but with your head turned in their direction, you notice the first interesting face you’ve seen all night.

Rather, it was the lack of his face that drew you in. Just a few seats down the bar stood a tall man, dressed head to toe in dark clothing, sliding an empty glass toward the bartender. Perhaps the most notable thing about him is how his hood sits on his head and a mask covers the bottom half of his face. Is that skull print on the fabric?

Whoever he was, he didn’t seem too keen on letting other people know. Part of you was surprised he was even allowed to be served. To say he looked suspicious would be putting it mildly. 

But there was something about him that caught your attention and wouldn’t let go. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the air of mystery that clung to him, or maybe it was your desperate need for excitement. At this point, you couldn’t quite tell what the reason was, but his presence was magnetic. 

His head turns slightly to look up at the television mounted near the bar. For a split second, you thought he had noticed you somehow. You don’t know why it affected you enough to make your heart leap into your throat, but it was enough to make you stop staring out of fear you’d come off rude.

Your leg bounces nervously on the barstool, itching to walk you over to him. But, Christ, you’ve been out of the game for a while, and you have to assume his…unique sense of attire was to wade off any unwanted conversation. What would you even say to a guy like that? Compliments aren’t easy when you can’t see any part of the man’s face. 

Your fingertips run over the edge of your glass and you can’t help but bring your eyes back over to him. Still focused on the game. 

“What’s with the mask?” The words leave your mouth before you can give them a second thought. You regret it almost immediately, hoping that maybe between the music and the surrounding conversations that he couldn’t hear you. 

There’s a slow turn of his head in your direction. His eyes meet yours, but instead of curiosity you find nothing but a piercing gaze that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s hard to tell in the dim light of the bar, but you swear his gaze moves over you before he turns his attention to the bartender.

Bummer. Well, it was worth a shot…even if you think you’ll have to order another drink to prevent yourself from cringing on the memory later. 

You huff another sigh and swirl your drink, watching the liquid move in the glass. If nothing else, at least you got a good night of people-watching and paid enough attention to the game to know what your coworkers will talk about on Monday. The next sip burns your throat as you swallow. 

“Tactical advantage.” A baritone voice—suddenly very close to you—comes from your left and startles you, making you jump in your seat. 

Your eyes dart to the side, wide in panic, meeting a masked face looking down at you. You curse under your breath, unsure whether it’s appropriate to feel relieved.

“Pardon..?”

“You asked about the mask,” the man gestures vaguely towards his fabric-covered face as he moves to sit on the barstool next to you. The old material groans under his weight. “Tactical advantage.” 

You couldn’t help but continue to stare at him. You could tell he was a bigger guy from far away, but, Jesus, he was even bigger up close. Not just tall, but his shoulders were broad and his hands practically dwarfed the glass he was holding. He was, objectively, terrifying.

Yet, you couldn’t help but smile at his simple, concise words. “Yeah? And what advantage is that?”

“To hide my face.”

You roll your eyes at his attempt at comedy. “Well, I coulda guessed that.”

“You asked.” He looks over at you and instead of the piercing gaze from before, there’s something much warmer in his eyes. You wish you could see if he had a smug smile to accompany his words. 

“That I did.” You take another sip of your drink, hoping it’ll continue to keep your nerves settled. “So why d’you wanna hide your face?”

He’s silent for a moment, looking down at the bar as he folds his arms and leans against it. You faintly hear him sigh before he shrugs his shoulders. “No need to show it.”

“Gotta be hard to drink with a mask, no?”

“Not if you lift it up.”

“Or you could just…take it off.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“‘Cause then I’d get to see what you look like.”

His eyes—you make a mental note of the deep brown color they are—narrow at that. “Oh, I dunno if you want that.”

“I think I do.”

The stool beneath him creaks with his weight as he sits up, straightening his back and reminding you just how tall he is. His chest expands against his hoodie in another deep breath. “Determined, aren’t you?”

Another smile creeps its way onto your face. “C’mon, I’m curious.” You want to lean in, to tease him with your proximity, but you withhold yourself.

Those blond eyebrows that peek out from the rim of his balaclava raise slightly. His eyes move over you in a movement he doesn’t seem to bother being subtle about. Though the gesture makes your heart skip a beat, his silence is deafening.

“Alright, alright,” you concede, hands up in defeat. “I get it. No face.” He makes an affirmative sound at that.

“Smart girl.” He says it so fast, a one-off comment that told you to not bother pressing him for any more information, but something about it makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You have to look down at your drink when you feel your cheeks grow warm. Even though it was nearly gone, you certainly didn’t have enough liquid courage to flirt openly. You wanted to ask his name, to ask where he’s from—what if he lived close by?—but if he wasn’t even willing to show you his face at the bar, you knew the chances were slim. 

From the corner of your eye, you see him shift in his seat again. He digs in his pocket, pulls out his phone, and barely looks at it before he starts to stand. Was he leaving already? Why?

“Where you goin’?” You ask before you can really think about why you cared so much.

“M’needed elsewhere.” 

Blunt, simple, and vague. That seemed to be how he operated. 

“Oh, a popular guy, are you?”

“You could say that.” Your eyes follow him as he moves, but he doesn’t look your way when he stands. Christ, he was a big lad. 

“You didn’t even touch your drink.”

“It’s not mine.” He moves the full glass down the bar until it clinks against your own. It’s then you notice it’s the same color as your drink. Same glass, same serving. Did he really buy you a drink?

“Have a nice night.” You look back at him to see his eyes meeting yours. Maybe it was the last drink still swimming in your system, but you weren’t able to form the words to respond. “Get home safe, yeah?”

And with a nod of your head, he weaved his way through the room until he was out of your line of sight. Despite his size, he was easy to lose in the crowd. You turn back to the bartop and stare at the two glasses. The one on the left—the one he’d bought for you—was invitingly full.

You reach out, fingertips skimming the rim before you bring the glass to your lips. It was the same drink you always ordered when you went out—your favorite. Only somehow it tastes sweeter on your tongue this time.

You’ve never made it a habit to go out and drink. As stressful as life could get, it just wasn’t an outlet you ever turned towards. It was expensive as hell, and you weren’t stupid enough to ignore how much it sucked to be hungover. 

But despite that, you found yourself back in that same barstool when the weekend came around. And for the first time, it wasn’t because of the overpriced liquor.

Only a few sips into your first drink of the night and you were already looking around in hopes that you’d find a skull-patterned mask looking back at you. Desperately you tried to tune out the chatter of people around you, hoping you’d be able to pick out his voice. Maybe it was stupid. It was definitely wishful thinking. 

For all you knew, he wasn’t even in town anymore; you figured he probably wasn’t the type of guy to stick around one place for very long. And, hell, he left so abruptly last time, who’s to say he’d even want to see you again? You hated the tightness that built in your chest at the thought of that. 

Well, you might as well enjoy your drink since you’re here. You tried to pay attention to whatever sport was on the television this time, tried scrolling on your phone, but nothing held your attention. Every sip of your drink tempted you to house the entire bar. But you didn’t figure yourself that pathetic. Still, you were pathetic enough to keep looking over at the entrance, hoping you’d see that tall figure slinking through groups of people.

But you never do.

Fuck. It was stupid to hope anyway. You curse yourself under your breath, rubbing at your temples like it’ll help clear your head. With a huff and a sigh, you finish the last of your drink. It doesn’t taste as sweet as it did last time. You’re more disappointed than you wanted to allow yourself to be.

You decided rather quickly that you’d rather mope and feel sorry for yourself in the comfort of your own home. It wasn’t worth wasting money on another lonely drink.

There’s a chill breeze outside that cuts through you, making you shiver as soon as you walk out the door. You cross your arms, trying to preserve some body heat, as you make your way down the pavement. A still-lingering part of you doesn’t want to leave but your legs don’t stop carrying you further away.

You eventually come to a stop, leaning against a light post as you dig out your phone. Even though you’re supposed to be looking up the rideshare to get you back home, you can’t help but look around last time. You think yourself too desperate for your own good until you see a tall figure just a few steps away.

Standing next to a motorcycle that you can only assume is his, the hooded figure drops a cigarette to the ground, his boot grinding against the pavement to stomp it out. You thought it might be too good to be true, but then he turns just enough for you to see him pull that skull-patterned balaclava back over his mouth. He doesn’t seem to notice you—a fact you quickly want to remedy.

“Hey, big guy,” you call out to him, the nickname a subconscious one you immediately cringe at yourself for. Fucking ‘big guy’? Yeah, that’s not gonna go over well.

But it certainly gets his attention. His head turns in your direction, if only barely. He does a double-take before stopping in his tracks and staring back at you. You have to hope and pray that he doesn’t think you’re crazy as you walk over to him. Luckily, he didn’t move away from your advances. Instead, he turns towards you as if to welcome your approach, dark eyes raking over you in that same conspicuous motion.

It’s when you’re face-to-face with him—well, more like mask-to-face—that you realize you didn’t quite know what to say. You were too sober to be making a fool of yourself like this. After an awkward beat of silence of you taking in once more just how tall he was compared to you, you finally manage to conjure up something.

“I just wanted to say…thank you for buying me a drink the other night. I…I appreciated that.”

“Course.” You’d almost forgotten the gruff sound of his baritone voice. “You leavin’ already?”

You hesitate for a moment, a lie stewing on the tip of your tongue. No, no, I was just hanging out in the cold, what a coincidence, right? How much you wanted to spend time with a man you barely knew was almost pathetic. You resign the thought with a sigh. “Sorry, you’re too late. I already had all my fun.”

“What, waitin’ f’me?” 

You didn’t know if he was just confident or if he somehow truly knew that was what you were doing. Either way, it made you feel like he could see right through you, like he knew you found him interesting. “Maybe I was hopin’ you’d come by.” You bite your lip, gaze hitting the ground before looking back up at him. “You were the most entertaining thing at that bar.”

He takes in a deep breath at that. “M’sorry I missed it.” Yeah, me too. “Can you get yourself home?”

“Yeah. Well, a rideshare can.”

“How ‘bout I take you home?”

The suggestion makes your heart skip a beat, staring up at him, frozen and probably looking half-crazed. The rational part of your brain was sounding every possible alarm. Why would you ever trust a man you met in a bar who never takes off his mask to take you home unless you had a death wish? And yet the winning part of your brain was the one that was extremely curious about his implication.

“Ah, take a bloke I barely know back home? How drunk d’you think I am?”

He looks over you again in a beat of silence. “You aren’t. That’s why I’m askin’.” Knowing he didn’t want to take advantage of you eased some of the lingering anxiety in the back of your mind. But, as if he could sense that anxiety, he continued, “You don’t gotta let me in, I jus’ wanna make sure you’re safe. I’m cheaper than a rideshare, anyway.”

“Well, can’t beat that, I suppose.” You move around him to approach his parked motorcycle. You didn’t have to know much about bikes to realize it was a nice one. Sleek, but not flashy. Your fingers glide over the leather of the seat as you eye the streetlights reflecting off of the shiny black body. “I’ve never been on a bike. People say they’re dangerous.”

“They can be, if you don’t know what you’re doin’.” You hadn’t noticed how close he was—moving as silent as ever—hovering just behind you as he grabs the helmet strapped securely to the bike. Holding it out towards you, he gives you a nudge. “Here.”

You take the helmet, holding it carefully like you’re afraid to leave your fingerprints all over it. You could already tell it’d be too big, but the consideration was nice. “I trust you know what you’re doin’, then?”

“Most of the time.”

Well, wasn’t he quite the comedian.

You slot the helmet over your head with a roll of your eyes. As you guessed, it was certainly too big, tilting forward over your brow and obscuring your view. A bitterly sweet smell floods your senses as you clasp it in place; you can only assume it’s his sweat, mixed with a faint air of tobacco, embedded into the foam lining.

A heavy hand rests on the side of the helmet, holding it steady while he slides the visor up. His head tilts as those dark eyes of his greet you. “Bit big on you, innit?”

“Yeah, just a li’l.”

“How far we goin’?” You should have been a little hesitant before telling him your address, but you don’t even stutter. He spoke like he had to know, like ordering people around was what he did for a living. An affirmative hum comes from behind his mask as he slides the visor back down. “You’ll be alright.”

You struggle to balance both yourself and the helmet long enough to swing your leg over the seat. You were thankful that the helmet obscured your face to shield some of the embarrassment, at least. Then you feel that same heavy palm on the small of your back, trying to keep you steady, only to make your body tense up. The helmet swings lazily on your head as you finally straddle the seat.

Once you’re situated, after asking if you’re comfortable, he slides his hand off of you. He has no problem getting himself sat, taking up the front half of the seat as he slots in the space before you. He turns his head and, though you have to lift your head awkwardly to see him through the visor, you hear his voice say, “Hold on tight. Can’t have you fallin’ off.”

What, did he plan on speeding out of here? Hesitantly, your hands find purchase on his waist. It was gentle, barely enough pressure to feel his hoodie under your fingertips, let alone his body underneath.

You think you hear him scoff. “I’m sure you’re stronger than that.” His fingers wrap around your wrists, guiding your hands forward until they rest on his chest. The movement shortens the gap of space between your bodies as your arms hover awkwardly around him. “I promise you won’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re afraid of. C’mon, tighter than that.” You strengthen your hold, closing the distance between your chest and his back, practically hugging him. “Atta girl.”

Your face heats up at that, and you were thankful the helmet obscured the sheepish smile that had painted itself on your face. 

The engine suddenly roars to life, loud enough to surprise you. The power behind it vibrates through the leather seat and seeps easily through the padding of the helmet. Though his takeoff was as smooth as it could’ve been, it didn’t stop you from tightening your hold around his body. 

The cityscape passes by in a blur of vibrant lights and towering buildings. The hum of the motorcycle’s engine overpowers the surrounding cars, echoing off of the asphalt and thrumming a rhythmic hum during the ride. The already-cool night air bites at your skin as it whips past. 

Though you have no reason to, you find yourself gripping him tighter on every take-off after a stop. And despite the chill on your skin, you felt the heat rise to your face as you realized you could feel how rigid and tough he was under that hoodie. 

There was a thrill, you realized, that ran through you and made your heart race. Not only because you were on a bike for the first time, but because of how close you were to the man in front of you. Holding on tight to a stranger whose name you didn’t know so he could bring you home safely sounded like something out of a novel. The smell of him embedded in his helmet and filling your senses, your body close to absorb some of his heat, the pure generosity of even offering to drive you home: everything made you want to abandon all self-respect and invite him in when you arrived.

The internal battle you fought over that distracted you for the rest of the ride.

You could barely see out of the helmet without cocking your head awkwardly, but you could tell when the trip was nearing its end. A pit formed in your stomach—a part of you unwilling to let the ride end just yet. It wasn’t until he slowed down enough to pick out your building that you realized how difficult it was to see over his broad shoulders. With a point and a nudge in the right direction, you guided him to your stop.

He pulls the bike up to the pavement before parking it. The sounds of the neighborhood replace the monotonous hum of the engine as he turns it off. Your movements are hesitant as your hands slide off his body, something you quickly regret and hope he hadn’t noticed. He helps you off the bike just as he had helped you on, reminding you of his gentle touch, thankful yet again for the helmet obscuring your shy smile.

You don’t ignore the sense of disappointment you feel knowing that he has to leave. Just taking off the helmet was enough to make you miss him and ache for something more, even when he stood right by you on the pavement. You knew it was strange to feel close to a man you barely knew, but he gave you more comfort than most. He made you feel intrigued in a way no one else did. 

“So,” you start, dreading the awkward silence, “do I get to know the name of my chauffeur?”

He pauses for a moment of consideration. Your heart beats faster, something akin to excitement making you hope for an answer. Finally, he looks up from the pavement. “Maybe next time.”

Initially, you felt more disappointed than you wanted to allow yourself to be. Surely his name was the one thing he could give up? But then you find yourself clinging on to that phrase. Maybe next time…Did he expect a ‘next time’? Should you expect a ‘next time’?

As you walked up to your door, he didn’t follow, staying true to his words from earlier. He kept a respectable distance to not crowd you, as if he didn’t want to make you nervous. If only he knew everything about him made you overthink your every move.

There’s a beat of silence when you grab your keys. An invite inside sits on the tip of your tongue, fighting with the rational part of your brain, consequences be damned. But his voice beats you to the punch as he breaks another long and empty silence.

“So d’you go and drink every Saturday?”

Your fingers toy with the keys in your hand as you debate your answer. “No, I don’t,” you admit after a beat of silence.

He hums a deep sound that you can’t quite identify the emotion behind. “So just a coincidence, then?”

You don’t respond to that. Instead, while fighting your sheepish smile, you look back at him. 

“Thanks for takin’ me home.”

“‘Course.”

“Maybe next time you should drink with me.”

Your heart pounds in your chest when the words leave your mouth. Eagerness didn’t seem like such a shameful thing anymore. Not when you were sharing body heat with him just a few minutes ago. Not when he knew where you lived because he cared enough to make sure you were safe. Maybe it was too hopeful to expect him to want to see you again, but when your eyes meet his under the streetlight, you’re confident the hope isn’t unfounded.

His eyes rake over you in a slow one-over as he nods. His voice is low in that same charming gruff timbre when he responds, “I’ll see you next Saturday, then?”

Fighting off an over-excited smile proves to be the most difficult thing you’ve done in a while. You sigh, calming your racing heart. “If you’re on time.”

“It’s a date.”

It wasn’t actually a date.

Surely he couldn’t have meant it literally. Still, it was enough to have you barely managing a flustered goodbye before fumbling with your keys at the door. Even after you were in the comfort of your home your face felt hot, your body practically vibrating from adrenaline. All from a stranger. The faint sound of the revving engine of his motorcycle moments later only served to remind you of his voice, the warmth of his body, and—hopefully—the promise in his words. 

You had to remind yourself constantly, every time your mind wandered throughout the week, that you were hoping for too much. You were daydreaming about a face you hadn’t seen yet from a man whose name you didn’t even know. And, God, that made you feel more pathetic than ever.

It was just a night out, spending time together over a drink, nothing more. Maybe you could learn his name if he was feeling generous enough. But to hope for anything more—a follow-up or anything deeper than friendliness—was foolish. Still, your mind kept wandering back to his words. It’s a date. 

No, this wasn’t a date, you scold yourself in the mirror, shaking your head as if it’ll dismiss the thought faster. That was just a throwaway line, something to draw you in to make sure he’d see you tonight. Nothing more, nothing implied, nothing to hope for. You knew that by now, practically drilled it into your own head. 

So why did you spend way too long looking at yourself in the mirror, obsessing over every little detail you could nitpick? Why did you drudge through your entire closet to make sure you picked the “right outfit”? Why did you stress about what perfume to wear and what drink to order? It wasn’t a date after all. 

Right?

It was too late to fight yourself on it once your rideshare pulled up. The implication of his words was irrelevant at this point; your heart seems to beat quicker with every turn of the wheels that brings you closer to the bar. Despite the cool air making you regret choosing to wear a skirt, you felt hot and stuffy—just downright nervous. Christ, you nearly felt like you could throw up when you saw a familiar tall silhouette outside the bar. 

He was on time. And he was waiting for you.

Every insecurity you nitpicked before comes to the front of your mind the moment you step onto the pavement. You force the thoughts away with a sigh and, for the first time in your life, your steps towards the bar are hesitant. His eyes meet yours as you approach and you almost wish you could see his reaction under that mask. But the more you thought about it, maybe you were better off not knowing.

He straightens up, pushing himself off of the wall, looking down at you with a face obscured by shadows and fabric. “I was startin’ to think I came too early.”

It was a huge relief to see him here, waiting and willing to see you again. You couldn’t hide your smile if you tried. “Well, lucky for you, I like an eager man.”

His steps are confident as he makes his way towards the entrance. “That’s definitely one way to describe me.” You barely hear the sentence when he utters it, which only makes your heart beat faster. He pulls the door open, holding it for you to make your way in. 

The bar is as crowded as it is every Saturday. Plenty of people scattered around, watching whatever team was on the television this weekend, drunkenly shouting overtop of the music. It never fails to overwhelm you when you walk through the entrance. A hand rests on your back, grounding you and making you all too aware of your posture, slipping to your waist before guiding you through the bustle of people.

Your date—it still felt weird to call him that—guides you towards the bar, towards the backend where fewer people crowded the space. His presence was comforting despite his silence. Not to mention how perfectly his hand slotted against your waist, a thought that had you too nervous to bring attention to his sudden touchiness.

The stools squeak and groan as the two of you settle into your seats. The bar is anything but quiet, yet an awkward silence hangs in the air between you. Something told you he wasn’t the type to care about the awkwardness, but you were far too sober to not overthink every thought that popped into your head.

You clear your throat, hoping it’ll boost your confidence to speak. “I wasn’t actually sure you’d show,” you admit. “But I’m glad you did.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You weren’t sure how to respond. He raised a good point, one that spit in the face of your insecurities and anxiety. “I dunno…guess I worried I wasn’t exciting enough for you.”

“Well, you’re no mask-wearin’ bike rider.” He leans in your direction and nudges you with his elbow. “But I think you’re plenty excitin’.” You look up at his eyes just fast enough to catch his wink.

Flustered, you avert your eyes to the bartop as you laugh. “You don’t know me well enough, clearly.”

“I’d like to. That’s why I’m here.”

That brings your eyes back to his. You may not have been able to see his face, but those eyes told you everything about his sincerity. There shouldn’t have been any doubt left in your mind after that. The man admitted to having an interest in you—in getting to know you—and it surely set your heart on fire. 

“Well, that and to drink, I’m sure.” Your smile is an attempt to distract from the way you stare at him. It was like you had yourself convinced you could make out his features if you just studied him long enough. 

“Ah, that’s just a bonus.” He gestures for the bartender with a simple wave of his hand before fishing in his pocket for his wallet. 

“So what’s the drink of choice for a bloke like you?”

“Bourbon.”

You aren’t sure why that admission surprises you; of course a big guy like him would drink whiskey. Something about that fact makes you feel warm inside. You request one for yourself, an excuse to have something in common with him. 

Your eyes follow the bartender as they move, but your mind is far from the alcohol. Everything was going well—probably the best it could’ve gone meeting someone who could still classify as a stranger for the third time. But there was still something gnawing at the back of your mind, festering insecurity and uncertainty.

“Can I ask you something?” You almost surprise yourself with the lack of hesitance with which the question leaves your mouth.

“Shoot.”

“That night we met, when we spoke for the first time, you left awfully quick.” Your fingers tap against the bartop in an anxious rhythm. “What was that about?”

From the corner of your eye, you see him shrug. “Wasn’t my choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was work. It asks a lot of me sometimes.” Work calling at such a late hour was hard to believe, but the way he said it—a layer of exhaustion sullying his words—had you convinced. “Trust me, I would’ve preferred staying to talk to you.”

You believed that, too. 

“What do you do for work?”

He pauses, taking in a deep breath, like he’s thinking about how to phrase his response. You’ve started to learn how deliberate he was with his words. “A lot of dangerous shit.”

That definitely piques your attention. You hear the two glasses clink against the bartop, but you were more concerned with him than the alcohol. “Yeah? What kind of shit is that?” You didn’t have a lot of hope that he’d open up any more than that, but the curiosity ate at you. 

He reaches for one of the glasses, sighing as he moves. “The kind of shit that makes you want to drink to forget it.” He lifts the glass in your direction. “So let’s drink, yeah?”

Even if he didn’t completely open up, it was a sentiment you could sympathize with. You may not know exactly what he spent his time doing but you knew enough to hope he saw your company as comforting. You reach for the other glass and lift it until it clinks against his own. “Just don’t drink enough to forget me.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be forgettin’ you anytime soon.”

You smile at his sentiment, taking a sip of whiskey to wash away the anxiety-borne tension in your throat.

It’s done in a split second before you notice it, but he lifts the bottom of his balaclava over his mouth, resting the hem on his nose. It gives you a view of the blond scruff that dusts the sharp angle of his jaw, of those peach lips that look surprisingly soft as he raises his glass to take a drink. The way his mask sits makes you aware of the crook in the bridge of his nose—a sign of cartilage broken multiple times over. He’s rugged and rough underneath the soft cloth, far more attractive than anything you could’ve conjured up in your own mind. And that was without seeing his entire face. They were features that any other man could have, but he hid those features from the world for reasons you couldn’t fathom. Maybe that was what made him so alluring.

“You’re starin’.”

It takes a moment for his words to register in your head. You only realized he was speaking because you could actually see his mouth move. You scoff, brows furrowing as you finally blink for the first time in a while. “I wasn’t starin’.”

He grunts in response. You didn’t have to hear him speak to know he doesn’t believe you. Hell, you didn’t believe yourself. You roll your eyes at the sound, taking a sip of your drink and averting his intense gaze by catching a glimpse of the television behind the bar. You didn’t care one bit about the scores on the screen.

Especially when you suddenly felt the warmth of his hand on your thigh. There was no way he didn’t notice the way your muscles tense, flinching at the sudden contact. It’s indescribable the way it makes you feel. His rough and calloused touch barely underneath the hem of your skirt to feel the smooth and tender flesh of your thigh sends a jolt down your spine, a heat coursing through you that you haven’t felt in a while.

“You’re a terrible liar.” It isn’t lost on you the way his voice deepens when he whispers to you, leaning in close and quiet so he can make sure you hear him.

Your mouth suddenly goes dry, your face hot and your heart racing. “Piss off. The…bourbon’s just strong.” You force the words out in a half-hearted tumble as you bring the glass to your lips. 

His grip tightens ever-so-slightly, gently squeezing your thigh. Something about it tells you he doesn’t buy that lie either. “Ah, s’that what it is?” 

The sarcasm in his voice makes the whiskey burn as it slides down your throat. You take in a breath to try and combat the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth. Squirming in the stool, you press your thighs together to quell some of the heat pulsing through your veins. Nerves and excitement battle for control over your body. 

“I didn’t take you for a touchy lad.” Your own voice quietens to a whisper, almost too nervous to acknowledge his bold move.

“Usually m’not.”

Setting your glass down, you’re almost disappointed to find the mask is settled back over his face when you finally make eye contact again. “Mm. You must like me, then?”

The question wasn’t really meant to have an answer, but he didn’t hesitate to give you one. “Was that not obvious before?”

“The confirmation is nice.” You force the words out before you can think too hard about his reply. 

He liked you. One of the most enigmatic, confusing, intriguing people you’ve ever met—who should’ve made you feel scared—actually liked you. It was relieving and exciting and terrifying all at once.

You look down to see his hand on your thigh. The sight is enough to turn excitement into something much stronger that pools in your core. You run your fingertips over his knuckles, the discolored skin telling you they’ve been wounded multiple times over. You didn’t have the guts to ask. The contact makes his grip tighten slightly, his thumb slowly brushing gentle strokes against your skin.

The whole thing had your mind running wild. You certainly didn’t have enough to drink to excuse the images that flashed in your mind. But seeing his hand on you—feeling his touch—in a way you could only describe as intimate had desire pumping through you. You don’t know how good a job you’re doing at hiding it, either, but you’re certain he can feel when you squeeze your thighs tightly together.

“So,” you start, clearing your throat as if to excuse the rampant thoughts in your head, “do I get to know your name yet?”

You look over to see his eyes lingering absentmindedly on the television. “Depends on how this night goes.”

Well, it wasn’t a ‘no’.

You scoff, feigning annoyance. “What, y’gonna wait until I’m too drunk to remember it?” Your hand moves to your glass, raising it in his direction before taking a sip.

“Oh, I’m not gonna let you get drunk.” He says it so matter-of-factly that you couldn’t argue if you wanted to. Then, his hand moves carefully, readjusting his grip until the plush fat on the inside of your thigh is squished between his fingers. “Can’t have any fun if you get yourself plastered.”

At least now you knew you had no chance of embarrassing yourself in a drunken stupor. But your mind was far more preoccupied with that word—fun. Sure, he could have meant it literally; maybe he planned on taking you somewhere more exciting than a cheap bar after this. You silently scolded yourself for being disappointed with that reality. 

“I suppose you’re right…” The words came out breathlessly into your glass. You didn’t know if he heard you, but it didn’t really matter. He seemed like the type of man to be dead set on whatever he was determined to do. You just hoped the ‘fun’ he had in mind was the same type that had your heart pounding whenever you thought about it.

His hand slides off you and—God help you—you almost whimper at the loss of contact. Your eyes follow his movement, watching him slide his mask up enough to take another drink. You didn’t think you could ever forget what he looked like. It was a sight you swore you could spend the whole night staring at, but you looked away before he had the chance to tease you about it.

“Y’know,” he says with a voice quiet enough that only you could hear, “if you need somethin’, you can just ask.”

Your eyes dart over to him with an unconscious, wide-eyed look of guilt and confusion. There was no doubt in your mind that you needed something from him, but you hadn’t intended that to be obvious. A bewildered “what?” is all you manage to force out while you try to convince your rapid heart to slow.

“If you need somethin’ from me, you can just ask me for it.” He speaks slowly this time, looking in your direction with brown eyes so dark it was like his pupils had blown wide. Fuck, did you look like that too? He sets his glass down with a sigh when you don’t respond with anything more than a confused scoff. He leans in close, so close you could feel his breath on your ear and a whiff of tobacco and musk in your nostrils. “You were practically humpin’ my hand.” You swear he growls the words. “That makes me think you need somethin’.”

That immediately shot down any hope you had that you were doing great at hiding your wandering thoughts. Excuse after excuse ran through your mind, trying to justify why his touch made you squirm. But…was there really any point in denying something he so clearly had picked up on? He read you like a goddamn book—not that you were difficult to read—and something about that only made the desire heavier. And, most importantly in your mind, there was no sign that he disliked it.

Your lips quiver as they part, hesitation making your mouth run dry. “Maybe…maybe I do need somethin’...” It feels like your heart has jumped in your throat. But it wasn’t nerves that made your skin run hot. “Are you…offerin’ me somethin’?”

He straightens in his seat and pulls the balaclava back over the lower half of his face. From the corner of your eye, you watch him tap his fingers against his glass. Just before you think he’s going to end the conversation there, you hear the rumble of his voice from behind the skull-patterned fabric. “There’s a storage room in the back hall, last door on the right. Hardly anyone goes back there.” His tone is almost conspiratorial. “If we go one at a time, less chance of being noticed. We could have some privacy there.” There’s a pause before he looks in your direction, not bothering to be subtle when his eyes move over you. “That’s what I’m offerin’.”

Holy shit.

There was no reason to think he was joking, but you still couldn’t believe it. You also couldn’t believe that you were so desperate that turning him down didn’t even cross your mind. “You’re serious? Here? In the bar?”

He shrugs like the thought is obvious. “Well, you said it yourself: can’t take a bloke you barely know back home.” He leans in again, eyes boring through you. “I promise I’m worth all the hassle.”

Somehow, you didn’t doubt him one bit. You play off the disbelief and hesitation with a scoff, shaking your head. “Yeah, you better be.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you for a moment. You wish you could hear his thoughts or see his face, get some inkling of an idea of what was running through his mind. 

Then he sits up straight, cocking his head in the direction of the back hallway. “Go on, then.”

Truthfully, his impatience had you relieved; at least now you wouldn’t have to be the one to initiate. But that didn’t mean you wanted to be the first to get caught sneaking around the back of the building. “Why am I goin’ first?”

“So I can make sure no one follows.”

“Is that your specialty?”

“Somethin’ like that.” You weren’t sure how to feel about that confession. Just how much sneaking around was a guy like him doing? “Go on.”

You’d marinate the thought later. With a sigh, you slide off of the barstool. Looking at him you find his eyes on the television screen once more. With no reassuring glance or even a flirtatious wink, you set your sights on the hallway in the back of the bar.

You’re relieved to find that no one was waiting in a line outside the bathrooms. At least that would make the sneaking around part a lot easier. You felt ridiculous, like a teenager trying to avoid their parents when they snuck out. But the promise of what could’ve been awaiting you was enough to will you to walk down the dim hallway.

There was a door towards the end of the hall, on the right side, just past the bathrooms. Just like he had said. You didn’t have time to wonder how he knew it was here, or how he knew it was a storage room. But sure enough, after slinking past the bathrooms and quickly pushing the door open, you were greeted with a room full of boxes, cleaning supplies, and old furniture. The smell of mildew made your nose crinkle as you stepped further inside.

It was then you realized he didn’t tell you how long to wait. Your thoughts spiraled from there; What if he flakes? What if an employee comes back here? Each second felt like an hour, your anxiety mounting with every moment you were alone in the stuffy room. You move to an old table shoved in the back corner. A thin layer of dust coats your finger when you run it along the trim.

Your heart jumps when you hear the door click. You were prepared to play the part of a drunken fool looking for the bathroom in case it was an employee, but you’re relieved to see the large figure you’d come to recognize slink through.

“Hey,” you call out to him, casually greeting him like you hadn’t snuck in here under the implications of sex.

His steps are slow as he moves towards you. “Hey.” That gruffness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. The room feels smaller with every step he takes in your direction.

“So,” you sigh, “do you take all your dates to storage rooms?”

“Only the lucky ones.”

He stops just in front of you, closer than he’s ever stood before, making your breath catch in your throat as you look up at him. “Suppose I should feel lucky, then.” You don’t mean to sound breathless, but you weren’t too concerned with appearing composed.

“I’d hope so.”

“I will if you take off that mask.”

You think you hear something resembling a laugh from beneath that skull-patterned fabric. He tugs at the mask and, for a moment, you think he’s actually going to remove it. But the hem only moves to the bridge of his nose, taunting you by not revealing any part of himself he hadn’t already. You must look expectant, or disappointed, because he gives you an incredulous look in return. 

“What? You seemed plenty happy with this earlier,” he gestures towards the lower half of his face, earning an eye roll from you. He scoffs, leaning in and tilting his head to follow your gaze. “If I remember, you couldn’t stop starin’ at me.”

“Fuck off. I liked what I saw.” His teasing made your cheeks feel hot. That same heat thumps in your veins when your eyes meet his again. “...Still do.”

You barely feel the warmth of his fingertips as they graze your skin, tracing your jaw. He was gentle, exploratory, like he was waiting for your approval. When all he got from you was a sharp intake of breath, his thumb ran gently over your bottom lip. 

“So do I.”

You’d chastise yourself for leaning in if you were any more self-conscious. You’d blame the eagerness on the alcohol, or the way he seemed to pull you closer with his hand, but there was no denying the want stirring in the pit of your stomach. Nothing else mattered except making your lips meet. And when they do, all you find is gentle hesitance and the taste of whiskey. 

It was soft and careful, yet completely consuming. His lips were as soft as they looked and moved perfectly against your own. You couldn’t stop yourself from sighing into his mouth and inching your body closer, bringing your hand to his chest and feeling the soft fabric of his hoodie go taut as you curl your fingers into a fist. Afraid he’d move away if you didn’t, you kept your grasp firm and pulled him closer. 

He was the one to close the gap between your bodies. It was like he was waiting for that confirmation that you wanted this. His hands move to your waist as his groan vibrates against your lips. Gentle kisses slowly turn more desperate as both of you breathe heavily. The taste of cigarettes and alcohol is sickeningly sweet on your tongue.

Strong hands move down your body and over your hips. You half expected him to grope you and leave it at that. And while you would’ve been fine with it, you’re surprised when you feel his hands move down to your thighs to lift you off the ground. The sudden movement makes you yelp and gasp into his mouth, fingers clawing at his hoodie to keep you balanced while he haphazardly sets you on the edge of the dusty, wobbling table. 

It’s brash and hurried but it’s exciting. The type of exciting that makes you forget about the dust on the tabletop and the possibility someone could walk in. Nothing else mattered when his mouth was on you, trailing over your jaw with hot and wet kisses that took your breath away. 

“You’ll tell me if I’m too much, yeah?” The rough sound of his voice surprises you, grounding you amidst the overwhelming sensations. 

You nod, running your hands over his shoulders to try and feel the rigidity under his clothes. “Y-yeah, course.”

“Good girl.”

A small kiss is planted on your neck before he pulls back enough to look you over. As your hands fall from his shoulders, he hastily rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie. Not only does the sight of sinewy muscle hidden underneath make your blood pound in your veins, but the intricate sleeve of tattoos on his left arm catches your attention. In any other scenario you’d ask him question after question about each line and symbol. But right now his hands are running up your thighs and under your skirt, the muscles in his arms flexing as he kneads the fat between his fingers. 

The way he groans at your softness makes you throb. He nudges your legs further apart—a movement you would have done on your own volition—and pushes your skirt up as he moves to hold your hips. You lean back on your hands and watch mesmerized as his eyes lock onto the sight between your legs. 

“Pretty pair,” he mutters as his thumbs rub circles against your hips. It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about your panties. “Makes me think you were hopin’ I’d see ‘em.”

Seems like it paid off to overthink every part of your outfit. “Maybe I was.”

“Yeah? Hopin’ I’d see how soppin’ wet they are?” His thumb moves inwards, running over your slit through the wet fabric. The fabric clings to your sensitive skin, proving his point, as does the way you whimper and buck your hips.

“Yeah, that too.”

His fingers hook into the strip of fabric covering your cunt, pulling the garment to the side with a forceful tug. And you swear, even in the dim light, his pupils dilate at the sight. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

Two fingers drag through your slit, through that slick that told him just how much you wanted him. His fingertips are rough but his touch is gentle. You gasp when he finds your clit and toys with the swollen bud by circling it teasingly. His lips find yours again with bruising kisses that swallow your sounds as you pant into his mouth. His fingers spread you open, gliding over your cunt and teasing every inch, gathering your slick as he circles your entrance.

Even though he moves slowly, the stretch of his thick fingers is certainly more than you were expecting. You whine as they curl and pump in and out in a rhythm that makes your cunt flutter and squelch with each push. Your head falls back with a moan when he hits something deep inside that sends shockwaves through you. 

His mouth moves down to your now-exposed neck, marking your skin with wet and sloppy kisses. “So fuckin’ wet for me,” his voice vibrates against you. “This is what you needed, isn’t it?”

You hum a broken “mm-hmm”, unable to focus long enough to form a proper response. But it’s that confirmation that has him moving faster and harder until your hips are jerking forward to meet his movements. 

“Yeah, y’couldn’t sit still ‘cause you were achin’ for it.” His free hand cups your face, gently squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. His eyes are dark with desire and something desperate that bores into you. “Just needed your pretty pussy fucked, huh?”

Your cunt flutters around his fingers at the praise, heat building in the pit of the stomach. Your pants turn into a moan as your breath catches in your throat. “Yes, I need it. I need it so fucking bad.”

His hand picks up speed as he coos a soft “I know, baby,” against your lips. His fingers curl and push just right, hitting every soft spot that makes your toes curl and your cunt tighten. One of your hands flies to his chest to claw at his hoodie as your body begins to tremble.

“Fuck,” you groan, barely able to get the words out, “d-don’t stop…”

“I won’t, love. Not ‘til you cum for me.”

For him. He wanted to see you fall apart under his touch and cling to him like he was the only thing in the world. You’ll care more about the sweetness of the thought when you aren’t stuffed full and moaning in the back of a bar. 

Whether it’s that thought or his touch or the heady mix of both, it’s not long before the muscles in your thighs go taut. Your breathing turns heavier as your moans and whines grow louder on each exhale. If it wasn’t for your subconscious fear of being caught and his need to feel your lips against his own you’re sure you would’ve screamed until the sound echoed off the walls. 

But even if your sounds were restrained, the sensations surely weren’t. That heat stirring in your core spilled over and your cunt clenched around his fingers until all you could hear was soft squelching as he pushed your slick cum back inside. Your thighs trembled and your chest heaved with the effort to catch your breath. It wasn’t until you could see straight against that you noticed the sweat along your brow and the ache in your back.

His fingers slid out, their girth just enough to leave you feeling loose. Before he could even take his hand off of you, his mouth was latching onto your neck for another set of rough and wet kisses.

“Turn around,” you barely hear his gruff instruction over the sound of your own breaths, “bend over.”

Still, you aren’t one to disappoint. You land on shaky legs after sliding off the table, using his sturdy form to balance yourself as you turn around. Your forearms rest against the table as you bend over the wobbling piece of furniture. 

You feel your skirt flip up, the fabric resting along your waist, before his large palms run over the swell of your ass. They’re warm and heavy and you can feel each callous as he kneads the fat in his grasp. He’s not rough, but it’s like he wants to savor the softness he finds.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cum.” That was enough to make you twitch, but then he runs a finger over the cum-slick fabric of your panties. “Think you can do it again for me?”

You barely muster a nod and an “mm-hmm” before his fingers hook into your panties and pull them down to your knees. His impatience was only riling you up, especially when you felt him spread you apart and groan at the sight. 

“Christ, look at you…” you hear him mutter, the sound accompanied by the jangle of a belt buckle coming undone. 

You could practically feel his stare boring into you, branding your skin with his gaze. You think you hear him spit before a hand rests on your ass to knead your skin again. That hand moves to your hip, holding you firmly in place while the head of his cock glides along your slit and stops at your entrance. He isn’t even attempting to push in and it already has you whimpering. You can feel it—thick and warm and heavy—waiting to split you open. 

“Breathe for me, baby. Just relax.” His voice is soothing, deep and soaked in desire, and it makes your body obey without thought. 

A few deep breaths later and your mouth is falling open in a loud gasp as he pushes in. He moves slow, pausing every time you whine to mutter soft encouragement through clenched teeth. And while his voice was soothing, it didn’t exactly ease the stretch that had your cunt pulsing around him. Nothing had made you feel so full before.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget the way he groans when he’s fully seated inside you. Both of his hands hold your hips tight as he mutters a curse under his breath. Slowly, he starts to move, pulling back only to push in deep. You swear he hits deeper every time, every push forcing the air out of your lungs in a desperate moan. 

“That’s it, you can take it.” His voice was somewhere between gruff and breathless, tense beneath clenched teeth and restrained moans. Your back arches and your hips push back to meet his movements halfway to encourage him to speed up his steady rhythm. “Oh, good fucking girl.”

All you can manage is broken strings of curses and moans. Between his constant praise and the fullness of his cock, you couldn’t think straight long enough to focus on anything except the pleasure shooting through your veins. If your nails were any sharper, you might’ve left claw marks on the table beneath you as you held on.

“Fuck me. H-Harder.” You knew you were being greedy, aching for more every time you accustomed to his pace. But you were still so sensitive from your recent climax; you knew it wouldn’t take much more to hit that high again, especially when his cock kissed that spot deep inside that made your eyes roll back.

“Yeah, you need it harder, baby?” He put up no argument as he moved his hands to your waist for a better grip. He pounded into you with a force that made your legs shake, his hips meeting your ass with an obnoxiously loud sound that you couldn’t care less if anyone heard. “Goddamn, this cunt’s perfect.”

Underneath your squeals and whines are his own moans and growls, each one making you clench around him just to draw another one out of him. Knowing he was as lost in pleasure as you were filled you with pride. 

His hands move up your body, snaking under your shirt, feeling you tense and tremble underneath him. Strong palms find and grope your chest, kneading you eagerly while he bends over you. His thrusts don’t cease even as his lips find your neck.

Soft bites and hot kisses only add to the sensations wracking pleasure on your body. You almost don’t hear him when he mutters against your skin, “Simon.”

“...Huh?”

“Simon.” He repeats, moving his mouth to your ear so there’s no doubt you’ll hear him. “Say it.”

“Si—fuck…Simon…” The name comes out in a moan, something he seems to enjoy judging by the receiving growl in your ear. 

“Atta girl. Now you know what to scream when you cum for me again.”

Your panting lips curl into something resembling a smile. Simon. You were too far gone to recognize the implication of trust behind his sudden openness, but you did know how sweet his name felt in your mouth. And, evidently, it wouldn’t take long for you to mutter it incoherently as your body begins to tense.

Heat and pleasure and everything warm builds in your core with each hit of his cock. He—Simon—mirrors your heavy breaths with his own. He must feel the way you tighten; his fingers dig into your skin so tight it’d probably hurt if your mind was less hazy.

“M’gonna cum—shit, you’re gonna make me cum, Simon.” Your eyes flutter shut, all your focus narrowed to the pleasure between your legs. 

“I know, love. Cum for me, let me feel you.”

His rough and steady pace makes the build-up all the more sweet. When your climax hits, it hits hard. White-hot pleasure shoots through you, making your hips twitch and your legs shake, a breathless cry that you try (and fail) to hold back ripping through the room. Your cunt pulses around his cock, sucking him deeper while he fucks you through the high with much gentler strokes. The obscenely wet sound is accompanied by his groans on every push. 

“Fuck, y’gonna make me cum squeezin’ me like that…”

That was enough to snap you out of your haze. Perhaps a much less restrained version of yourself would’ve let him finish inside you right then and there, but you’ll entertain the thought another time. Still trembling and panting, you force yourself to sit up. “Wait, wait. Pull out, hold on,” you urge, pushing him back with your hand.

He follows your movements, his hands sliding off of your body as he leans back. The emptiness that follows as his cock slips out of you leaves you feeling gaped in the best way possible. Your body aches, sore from the rough treatment and the wobbling table underneath you, as you stumble to your knees in front of Simon. Your eyes immediately land on his cock, a dumbfounded grin you’re sure looks ridiculous painting itself on your lips.

Fuckin’ hell…that was inside you?

It was every bit as impressive as it felt. Thick and heavy and so damn hard you could practically feel it throbbing with the need to cum. No wonder he needed to prep you, and no wonder you felt so stretched regardless. 

“Enjoyin’ the view?” Simon’s voice startles you, bringing your mind back to reality.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, guiding it to your mouth as you lean in. Licking a slow, wet stripe along the underside makes him hiss and twitch against your tongue. You could taste yourself on him, your cum mixed with his musk, and the heady combination made your head spin.

Your eyes flicker up at him, at that mask still obscuring half of his face. “Dunno if I can take all of you,” you admit as your hand glides up and down his cock. “You’re a big lad.”

Simon curses and you watch his jaw tighten as his cock twitches in your hand. “Don’t worry about it. After the way you felt around me, I’m not gonna last long anyway.”

You flash him a smile—a cheeky one that, no doubt, showed how proud that made you feel—before closing your lips around the head of his cock. His musk hits your tongue and fills your nostrils and you can’t help but groan at the taste. The rest of his cock fits in your hand, throbbing under your palm while you stroke. 

“Christ, that’s good, sweetheart.” One of his hands lands on the back of your head. He doesn’t push you down or force more into your mouth, he just rests it there, watching you through heavy eyes. “Real fuckin’ nice…”

You swallow around him, taking more of him into your mouth. His hips buck involuntarily in a movement that makes you gag when the tip of his cock grazes the back of your throat. He mutters an apology that you ignore, groaning around him as your head bobs and your tongue swirls.

“Fuck, I can’t…” Simon’s other hand flies down to his cock, replacing your grip as he wraps it around the base. “M’gonna cum, baby.”

The way he growls the words makes you hum, the sound vibrating through him. You give one last firm suck as your mouth slides off of him. “Cum on my face,” you utter before you can even catch your breath.

“Y-you sure? Your makeup—”

“M’not askin’, Simon.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” He can barely get the words out as he strokes himself, fisting his cock with a lewdly wet sound thanks to your spit and cum coating his sensitive flesh.

You can hear his breath grow heavy, slowly turning to moans as his body tenses. All you can focus on is his face—what parts you can see—watching his mouth as he pants and seeing his brows furrow in pleasure. You think you’d give just about anything to see him like this without that mask on.

His hand stills on his cock just before he mutters a curse and spills onto your face. His cum lands in thick, warm globs across your skin, and you’re thankful he seems to have enough awareness to avoid your eyes. He taps his cock against your lips, spreading his cum just to revel in the sight. 

Simon’s growling breaths steady out as he comes down from the high. “You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he sighs, peach lips curling into a smile.

Your tongue darts out to clean your lips, tasting the unique saltiness that painted them. “You’re not too bad yourself. Simon.”

He offers you a hand and pulls you up to your feet. His thumb brushes against your cheek, collecting some of his spend before bringing it to your mouth. You gladly accept his digit into your mouth, moaning around it as you suck it clean. With a growl and a curse, he pulls you into a rough kiss.

“Next time,” he starts, still panting as his breathing steadies, “how about we go to your place? Then we can have a proper go at it.”

Your heart skips a beat. ‘Next time’…he wanted a ‘next time’... 

“As long as you’re a gentleman and drive me there.” You pat his chest before pulling back enough to readjust your clothing. There wasn’t much you could do about the smeared makeup and tousled hair, but you weren’t the only person in the bar who looked a little worse for wear. 

“Deal.” You can hear the shuffle as he refits his own clothes. Thankfully, the mask doesn’t come back down. “You fancy another drink?”

“Uh…m’not sure, why?”

“‘Cause if you don’t, I can take you home right now if you’d like.” You meet his eyes and he matches your smile with one of his own.

“Deal.”

[nanamincreampie]

Quiet choso

Choso Kamo x Black plus size reader

Warning: 18+ mdni, Choso expriencing puppy love

( part 2 )

Quiet Choso who’s always been on the sidelines, keeping to himself but never missing a single detail when it comes to you.

He’s seen you in class so many times, always effortlessly put together. Your soft 4c hair, styled in a neat bun today, draws his eyes whenever you walk in, and your rich, deep skin glows, accentuating every curve of your plus-sized frame. It’s not that he’s staring, at least not in an obvious way, but his gaze always seems to find its way back to you, the way your dress hugs your hips, the soft outline of your waist, and the fullness of your thighs that press against the seat when you sit. He notices everything about you without trying.

He never says much, but he’s always listening, especially when you speak in study groups. The soft, calm tone of your voice commands his attention in ways that the professors never could. Even when you greet him in passing with a gentle "Hey," he only responds with a quiet nod or a brief “Hi,” his voice barely above a whisper. He’s not used to talking, especially not to someone who stirs him up like this.

Today, though, it feels different. You’re sitting in the library, the same place he often studies, and your presence is impossible to ignore. The fitted dress you’re wearing perfectly hugs your curves, and from his spot across the room, he admires how effortlessly beautiful you are. Every time you shift in your seat or tuck a curl behind your ear, his eyes linger just a second too long.

As he flips through his notes, his mind isn’t on the pages in front of him it’s on you. He tries to focus, but when he glances up, you’re smiling at him, soft and shy. His heart skips a beat.

You catch him watching, and with a soft laugh, you tease, "Choso, are you even studying, or are you just people-watching?"

His throat tightens, and he clears it, turning his eyes back to his notes. “I’m studying,” he mutters, though even he knows it’s a lie.

You stand up and start to make your way toward the stacks of books nearby, and his gaze follows you, admiring how gracefully you move. There’s an ease in the way you walk, your dress moving fluidly over your curves, every bit of your figure making his mind race. And when you bend slightly to grab a book from a lower shelf, he can’t help the way his breath hitches, eyes drawn to the way the fabric clings to your hips and thighs.

It’s then that another guy walks up to you, trying to make conversation. Choso clenches his fist under the table, feeling a sudden rush of jealousy as the guy leans in too close, his eyes wandering over your figure. He watches the interaction from a distance, his jaw tight.

"Come on, don’t you want to grab a coffee or something?" the guy presses, a little too eager.

You smile politely but shake your head, clearly uninterested. "No, I’m good. I’ve got a lot of studying to do."

Choso feels the tension in his chest ease a bit as you turn the guy down, and when you return to your seat, your eyes meet his again. There’s a playful glint in your gaze, as if you know he’s been watching.

"You alright, Choso?" you ask, your voice soft, genuinely curious.

He nods stiffly, trying to keep his cool. "Yeah, I’m fine," he says, though his tone betrays him.

You tilt your head, eyes narrowing slightly as if you’re figuring him out. "You sure? You seem… distracted."

Choso doesn’t answer immediately, unsure how to respond without giving too much away. Instead, he lowers his eyes to his book, biting the inside of his cheek.

You laugh softly and shake your head. "Well, don’t let me distract you too much. We’ve got exams coming up." You give him a teasing smile before returning to your notes.

And Quiet Choso, who sits there, unable to shake the feeling growing inside him, is left wondering just how much longer he can stay quiet about how he feels. Because every time you walk by with your curves, your soft voice, and that smile, it gets harder and harder to keep his thoughts to himself.

[zablife]

Maybe Johnny having a long day at work, he's tired and his girl gives him a blowjob

Hi lovely, I like the way your mind works! I took this idea and ran with it bc all I could picture was Johnny coming home after a trip to his cute little housewife and both of them finding comfort in one another. I hope you enjoy this short blurb about that!

Johnny Davis x wife reader

Johnny Davis Masterlist

Friday Night

Summary: You welcome Johnny home after a long week of missing each other.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, needy reader, blowjob, fem masturbation

The time Johnny was on the road was torturous for you, lonely nights spent on the sofa because you couldn't bear to sleep in an empty queen size bed alone. You'd drift off in front of the television set, only to be woken by the hissing static long after the station stopped broadcasting.

As your bleary eyes stared out toward the golden streetlights streaming in through the picture window, you often thought how different the night would be if Johnny were there to make you feel safe. For a start, you wouldn't have to check the lock on the front door twenty times.

You wouldn’t find yourself wracked by chills either. Once the cool autumn breeze turned to winter gales, you were often tucked beneath several knitted blankets, longing for the warmth and comfort of Johnny’s strong embrace.

When he was home, everything was right with the world. He'd stroll into the kitchen to find you standing at the range, delicious smells wafting from the pan before you'd even served dinner. His raspy voice greeting you as his muscular arms circled your waist, his hips would press into your backside to prove just how much he’d missed you.

After your man was fed, he always helped you with the dishes, though he sometimes got distracted by your sweet, little aprons. You sewed ruffled confections in pinks and yellows, dotted with rosebuds and cherries that barely covered your bosom. The bow at the back always beckoned to Johnny to untie it, freeing you to the touch of his calloused hands. However, he surpassed his desires to help with the dishes, his deep sigh at the last dish a sign of his excitement of things to come.

As you wiped your hands on a cloth, you turned to smirk at him. "Mr. Davis, I think you missed me."

"Damn right I did," he growled, reaching for your hips.

You bit your lower lip as you noticed the flames behind his blue eyes, burning white hot for you. "Is there something in particular you were missin'?" you asked innocently, batting your lashes at him as though you didn't know the effect you were having.

One glance at the tent in his trousers could have told you he was more than ready to have his beautiful wife on her knees before him, but you wanted to hear him say it. There was nothing you loved more than having your husband command you.

Johnny slipped a hand behind your back, unlacing your apron with one deft maneuver. The slip of fabric fell from your neck first, then your waist as Johnny chuckled. "Dinner was real good, baby," he complimented you, patting his stomach with satisfaction. Then leaning forward to place a kiss to your forehead, his voice lowered to a whisper as he added, "My sweet angel keeps my belly full and my balls empty, don't ya?"

You giggled, nodding in agreement. One hand venturing low against the front of his trousers, you squeezed his impressive length as you hummed, "Need me now, don’t ya?”

Johnny nodded slowly, chin grazing the top of your head lightly. “Take care of your old man like a good girl,” he urged, pulling you into the lounge where you could sink your knees into the plush carpet.

Fingers flying to his belt, you pulled the leather from his waist with one quick swoosh, a devilish smile playing on your lips. You undressed him in record time, holding his throbbing length in your hand like a prize.

You always marveled at Johnny's self control in the moment, waiting for you to place his throbbing red tip at your lips. He would never push your head down harshly like other men had done in the past. Your Johnny was a tender lover, always waiting for you to take the lead. It was something you loved most about him. And, if you were honest, it was the reason why you gave so much of yourself to him so freely.

It couldn't be helped, the way your tongue kitten licked the drops of precum. Johnny's hips jerked forward involuntarily and your opposite hand soothed him with a reassuring stroke to his thigh as you murmured, "M gonna take care of you, baby."

And you did, slowly at first, but gaining vigor as you dared to take him deeper into your throat. Even when you gagged, tears pricking along your lash line, you continued lapping along the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, to prove your devotion.

"Feels so damn good," he hummed in appreciation, which only urged you to continue, fondling his balls for good measure. And when his grunts turned to staccato breaths, you knew he was close to his end. Head tipping back in ecstasy he managed to warn you with a guttural moan, "Swallow f'me, angel."

The salty ropes coated your tongue and you struggled momentarily to contain everything Johnny had to give, hands flying to his hips to anchor yourself. However, you remained in place until he stopped pulsing, your hands rubbing soothing circles against his legs as he came down from his high. It was in that moment that you felt most exultant, basking in the feeling of him towering over you like a god.

You were happy to worship him, cleaning his cock with gentle licks. It was then Johnny held your shoulder, fingers squeezing gently as he slurred, “S’enough, babydoll.” His stormy gray blue eyes opened to look down at you, hand raking through your hair to get a better view of your angelic face, flushed from effort.

As he began to pull his hips back, withdrawing from the hot clasp of your lips, you whined in protest. Fingernails stroking along his thigh in silent plea, you placed featherlight kisses to his shaft so he understood your need.

"Not yet," you whimpered, mouth hovering over him suggestively.

His movements stilled beneath your touch, a soft chuckle tumbling from his lips as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. He could never deny you when you gazed at him with that shining admiration, eyes bright as stars.

He suppressed a shiver as your breath ghosted over him, trying to relax despite his heightened sensitivity. A lazy smile spread across his face as he granted you permission. "Alright, keep me warm til I get hard again," he uttered in that low, gravel filled voice that made your insides turn to jelly. He motioned you toward the sofa and you followed without hesitation, collapsing on top of him with a wide grin plastered to your face.

Delicate fingers guiding him back to your eager mouth, you watched Johnny sink into the sofa cushions with a shaky sigh and the sound made your cunt throb. He was on the verge of overstimulation, hand clenching around a cushion as you laved his velvety skin with your tongue. However, he endured the exquisite torture for you, to listen to your purr of contentment.

This time your movements were painstakingly tender so as not to cause him any discomfort, mostly allowing the weight of him to press against your tongue pleasantly. Being caged between his thighs, the taste and scent of him enveloping your senses, gave you a feeling of security you never wanted to leave.

As your eyes fluttered closed, Johnny's hand threaded into your hair pressing your cheek to rest against his thigh. He gazed down at you lovingly when he felt the slow undulation of your jaw against his leg, heart nearly bursting at the sight of your swollen lips suckling him. When your breathing slowed, he rubbed your back asking, "Tired, angel?"

The question roused you instantly, no intention of sleeping anytime soon. You fumbled with the hem of your dress, raising it to your waist and pushing your underwear aside so Johnny had a good view. Then you began rubbing tight circles over your pulsing bundle, gathering your slick before slipping two fingers inside yourself.

Johnny's eyes went wide with feral desire, cock stirring with each small pulse of your hips into your hand. He urged you toward your peak with rumbled whispers of filthy praise. "Look at ya all filled up. My pretty baby."

You keened at his words, back arching and a little moan caught in your chest as you realized he was getting hard. As his girth swelled in your mouth, you savored the salty remnants of his first orgasm and the beginnings of another. If only he knew how good it felt to have your belly warmed this way, you thought before your mind went cloudy.

As Johnny felt you quiver beneath him, his hand snaked downward groping your breasts and a spark of fire ran down your spine. He delighted at the way your brow began to twitch and how your toes curled at his ankle before you gave into the wave of pleasure cresting within. Suddenly your mouth parted in a muffled cry of pleasure, warm saliva spilling over your chin and dripping onto his balls.

"Oh, fuck, darlin'," he exclaimed as more blood rushed to his cock, the spongy tip pressing against the inside of your cheek insistently. There was hardly any time to recover before he was lifting you up from between his legs to pepper you with kisses, more than ready for round two.

[porcelain-siscon]

a doll that you got when you were young, only around 8 or 9, as a sort of surrogate big sister. it looked mostly like a girl your age, at least when it came to its height, and the two of you were inseparable. you mostly still are, though obviously less as you grew up

eventually it was hard to see it as a big sister anymore. you stand more than a foot higher than it now, and it's only been recently that you've started looking at it in a different light. the softness of its thighs that you figured were like that so you wouldn't hurt yourself is just a bit too soft, the ample chest you used to cuddle up to almost obscene in size, the snaking... something under its sewn shut dress so much easier to identify with more personal experience

you had honestly forgotten that the dress was sewn on until recently. years of wear had left much of the fabric faded and worn through, holes all over, some rips, all from a rambunctious childhood it's hard not to look back at with nostalgia. it was your big sister you shared your first kiss with, after all! that's not something you easily forget, even if you can't help but cringe slightly at the memory of kissing a doll

but that doesn't mean you don't love it. your big- well, your little sister, temporally locked as all dolls are, has been a constant companion your whole life, and it really does need some TLC. specifically, you want to get it a new dress, though that will involve removing the old one and taking its measurements. you carefully run your fingers along the neck to find a safe spot to insert the fabric shears, whispering a little "sorry, I'll be quick" as you start to cut

you work along the back, not wanting to nick any of the soft material that make up its breasts, then move over to the side once you're low enough to avoid the same at its cushioned rear. with a final snip, you feel the dress lose the last of its tension, allowing you to slide it off over the arms as you move them into place

what a sight

as a child, you'd never have noticed, but now you can't help but stare. the doll has a figure that was noticeable under the dress, but only just. with it nude like this, you can't ignore the slenderness of its waist and how it contrasts with the width of the thighs; or the way the just ever so slightly blue material that makes up its "skin" shimmers in the light everywhere but its joints, made up of a darker, more matte material; or the way that, even at its height, its breasts are dramatically bigger than yours

you also can't ignore the anatomically correct, improbable as it may be, cock that slumps down over a squishy pair of balls, touching the floor as you sit your little sister doll down

"...let's get these measurements done..." you mutter to it as much as you do yourself, getting out the measuring tape. laying it down on its back, trying to ignore the way its breasts fall to the side, trying to ignore everything about it, you read its height at 125cm. certainly taller than most dolls. inhaling to steel yourself, you sit it back up and measure around its chest

125cm again. surely not. no, that's absurd

again, you measure, again, 125cm

the same as its height? somebody was certainly in a mood with this design

propping it up some more, you balance it out on its feet and measure around its waist, getting a much more reasonable 75cm. looking down, trying to keep your eyes off its cock, you measure around its clearly wider hips, finding them to be 100cm. the level of precision was odd, if not just for what it was being used for

you found yourself staring again. it was just... hanging there. it was hanging there and you already had the measuring tape out. you could just see for yourself. you had an excuse

"sorry, I'm nearly done" you whispered to it, as if it could register any apology at all. one end of the tape right at the base of the crotch, then slowly measured out all the way to the tip. you expected 25cm, just to keep with the trend, but found it capped out at 32

"that's... weird..."

if it weren't for the imperial measurements on the other side of the tape measurer, you never would have noticed. 12 and 1/2 inches. 12.5

125cm tall

125cm bust

12.5 inch dick

you can't help but laugh. it is a little absurd, isn't it? absurd, and perhaps inappropriate that you got it when you were a kid, but it's hard to really think about that context in the moment. finishing off the laughing fit with a sigh, you say "let's get you covered up" and grab an old t-shirt, lifting its arms up and pulling it over its head. while definitely tight around the chest, it's at least long enough to cover it up

...mostly

it clearly dangles out the bottom, and you think about putting a pair of panties on it, though brush the idea off as there's not a chance that thing would fit in anything you own

"what am I going to do with you?"

you pick it up, one hand under its rear and one hand supporting its head, and carry it over to your bed to tuck it in there for the time being. normally you'd leave it on the chest of drawers, but with how exposed it is, that seems a little inappropriate, even if you never have guests over. once it's tucked in nice and tight, you give it a kiss on the forehead almost entirely on instinct

it looks so cozy...

well... it is your bed, after all, and it is your little sist- it is your doll, after all. you pull the covers back and climb into bed with it, wrapping your arms around it and pulling it close. you can feel the cool squish of its chest against yours, and its equally cool length press up against you. you do your best not to think too much about it

and lean in to give it a kiss on the lips. were they this soft when you kissed it as a child? they must have been, it's just that something about this kiss feels different, more intimate, perhaps after everything you just saw

best not to think about it too much, best not to kiss too much either. instead, you try and keep the idea of its new dress in your mind, even if you can't help but think about its naked body

[driftward]

FINAL DEPTH XIV: FATHOMDOWN

~An Absolute Complete Beginner's Guide To FFXIV Submersibles~

So, you've heard of submarines in Final Fantasy XIV and you want to get started on a fleet of your own, but have no idea what to do where to go or even how to start. Well don't worry there sailor, we'll get you from landlubber to salty sea-goer. This is an -absolute- beginner's guide, so we won't go into deep details, we just want to get your first submarine out the dock. It's not particularly difficult to get started, but there are a lot of steps, so take your time.

Actual guide beneath the cut

So, to get started, you will want to be part of an Free Company, and that Free Company will need to have a house. If this is not true, then submarines are not yet for you. I won't cover how to fix that, but you're all lovely people who can undoubtedly find a group of fellow maniacs willing to pal around with you.

If you are part of a Free Company, you will want to have a Rank in it that has pretty much full Company Workshop access. If your FC does not yet have a Company Workshop, go into the house, and find the door which allows you to buy rooms.

Company Workshop will be the first option. If your Free Company does not have one, an officer with the correct rank can buy one for some amount of gil. Once you have a Company Workshop, you will want to get 6 Mahogany lumber (gather Mahogany and turn logs into lumber, or buy it off the marketboard, just trust me on this we'll get to that in a moment). Go ahead and head inside, look around, get familiar with the place.

This is one of the first things you will want to take a look at, the Schematic Board. The Schematic Board is used to create recipes that the fabrication station will be able to use. Those 6 mahogany lumber will be useful now. I highly recommend using the schematic board, and going through the menu to find the Submersible Prototype I recipe, and go ahead and complete it. This will unlock the first submarine parts to be able to be constructed.

Right, so you hopefully have submarines unlocked. Our next destination is this, the fabrication station. This is what is used to actually make submarine parts. We will want a full Shark build.

This is going to be a LONG step, and I consider it the most complex logistically. To make a submarine, you will need a Submarine Hull, a Submarine Stern, a Submarine Bow, and a Submarine Bridge. If you put the 6 Mahogany Lumbar into the Schematic Board earlier, you should have access to the Shark parts for each of those subsystems (I have a lot more on my screenshot because I have been at this for a while). Go ahead and start building the Shark-class Pressure Hull.

This is a very long step. The fabricator will switch modes to construction, and submarine parts take a LOT of material. For the Pressure Hull, you will notice it takes 18 Walnut Lumber, 18 Spruce Lumber, 18 Iron Nails, and 18 Cobalt Ingots. That is just for the first phase. Each material has to be put in in chunks that are equal to 1/3 of the final desired size. So, for example, the Walnut Lumber will need 6 Walnut Lumber put in 3 times just for phase one.

When you finish a phase with all of its materials, the fabricator will ask if you want to advance to the next phase. Do so, and it will give you a new list of materials you will need to put in. At the end of the last phase, you can collect the submarine part.

This is an activity meant to keep an entire Free Company's worth of people busy, and will probably not be fast! If you do not want to deal with it, you can try your hand at just buying submarine components from the market board, but be warned. They're expensive!

You can gain some minor XP from doing this for your crafting jobs. I wouldn't bother. Also, you can put in HQ materials. Whether or not you do will not affect the final product in any way, shape, or form. The only thing it affects is that you might get a discount on later phases if you use HQ materials for earlier phases.

This is generally not worth the effort.

So, build or buy your submarine parts! Once you have a Shark Hull, Shark Stern, Shark Bow, and Shark Bridge, you're ready for the next step.

But first.

Somewhere in your FC housing area will be this guy, the Resident Caretaker. You will want to visit him to purchase some Ceruleum Tank (these an also be purchased from the mammet in the Company Workshop). Just buy a whole lot, you'll be going through them quickly. You will also want to buy a Dive Credit (possibly up to 3 Dive Credits for the first submarines, I actually am not sure).

Okay, back to the company workshop. We are now ready to make the magic happen.

Go ahead. Click it. You know you want to. You will see two options, Airship Management and Submersible Management. We want Submersible Management. Open that, and use your Dive Credits to purchase your first submarine slot.

If you have all four submarine subsystems in your inventory already, congratulations! Go ahead and equip them on that first submarine slot. If you already have ceruleum tanks, you can even send it out. All my submarines were out at the time I made this guide, so I have no screenshots of this step for you, but go ahead and mess around with it a bit. You won't be able to go very many places, so you can just make a route and send the submarine out.

And that's it. You are now a salty undersea going sea dog! Your submarine will take about a day for every trip it makes. Longer trips take longer. There is a lot to say about submarine stats and whatnot, but that's for more advanced guides. When the submarine comes back, it will probably bring back some loot. Take the loot, and send the submarine back out. Rinse, wash, repeat.

One final word - never ever disassemble a submarine. As your submarine increases in rank, it will have more capacity for more, better, and different parts. You can research those parts at the schematic board (more advanced schematics will require the stuff your submarine brings back from voyagers), and then build those parts in the fabricator, same as the first time. While a submarine is not deployed, you can reassign parts. But again, even if you are going to replace every single subcomponent, DO NOT DISASSEMBLE YOUR SUBMARINE! You will lose its rank and all of its bonus stats, and there is no reason to do so, ever.

Hopefully this guide is useful to someone! There are more advanced guides elsewhere that I will link if anyone is interested, but for now, this should be enough to get you off the ground. If you have questions, reblog them, put the questions in the body not in the tags so everyone can see, and I will reply with a reblog, and hopefully this will be a fruitful chain of launching many a naval career.

Happy submarining!

[yogurtkags]

❝ DELICATE ❞ — kageyama tobio

cw: gn!reader, fluff, depictions of eczema/skin issues, insecurity, hurt/comfort, established relationship, pet names (baby), extremely self-indulgent | wc: 507

it’s so itchy.

the sensation of your nails dragging against the bumpy and dry flaking skin scratching an itch like no other, the satisfaction of peeling a scab so great until it stings. and bleeds. and then all of a sudden showering hurts—

“i can hear you scratching.” tobio calls out from the kitchen as he walks out with a tall glass of water and a bowl of berries, setting it down on the coffee table and sinking down on the plush couch next to you.

your hand pauses in it's movements for barely a minute before going back to it's bad habit, words dragging out in a whine when you hear him let out a tch in disapproval, "i can't help it."

“i know, but you gotta stop it.” he chides, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers together, thumb rubbing soothing circles to distract you and effectively put a stop to your scratching. "picking at it isn't going to make it better."

hands still clasped together, he leans off to the side and blindly pats around the side table, feeling around for the small tube of healing ointment sitting in the black ceramic cat trinket dish (obviously you picked it out, saying it looked just like him).

coming back to you, he wraps his arm around your frame and pulls you closer, squeezing a pea sized amount of ointment on his fingertip and gently spreading it across your broken skin, raw and red from your incessant assault. it’s your fault really for letting it get this bad, but you hiss at the sting anyway, never quite getting used to the burn no matter how many times this has happened.

it’s always been something you struggle with, not just the itch but also accepting the way the patches looked. it’s ugly, and discoloured, the splotches unsightly, and seeing it in the mirror everyday comes with a matching frown. exposing the affected skin doesn’t come easy for you, avoiding it as much as possible and hiding it behind a layer of fabric where you can, but some materials make it itch even more, feeling helpless and insecure as you bare it to the world.

“almost done.” he mumbles, catching you stare off dejectedly from the corner of his eye.

tobio doesn’t need to pay a penny for your thoughts to know you’re feeling down about it again, your silence says a lot. you’ve been together long enough that he can mostly tell what you’re thinking from just your body language and facial expressions, you’ve always been an open book and wore your heart on your sleeve around him after all. he learned to pick up on your cues and subtleties with time, the same way you’ve slowly softened his edges.

a lingering kiss to your temple leads you out of the dense forest of your thoughts like a light in the darkness, his fingers gently holding your chin up to look into his softened, doting eyes.

“i love every part of you.”

and don’t you forget it.

gen taglist. open (send an ask / comment to be added!) @wyrcan networks. @the-all-stars-network @houseofsolisoccasum

notes. the self insert is inserting, i literally had a mini flare up and was scratching at my ezcema while writing this

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[thedevilrisen]

Subtle Caresses

Authorial Notes: A little fic I was inspired to write, it’s a little filler and what my mind wanted to write so I apologise for the poor quality.

No one would expect Sidney Crosby to be the king of subtle PDA. Hell, Sidney Crosby and PDA in even the most extreme situation would be and are two items considered as polar opposites. The suspect cause of his aversion to public displays of affection would be scrutiny faced when he was younger and spotted with previous girlfriends. His hand was too close to this part of her, indicating this and that.

So for the rest of his young dating life, while he held the weight of worldly expectations on his shoulders he ket his hands to himself. However, when Sidney met you he could positively and with red flaming cheeks admit he never wanted to let you go. While considered a red flag in most eyes, when you were wrapped in the warm chocolate-hazel embrace of Sidney's eyes it was never malicious.

Sidney always genuinely found comfort in you, in holding you, protecting you, pressing his head to your chest after a rough game and hearing the steady beat of your heart in which you swore only beat for him. In true, solem honesty that was completely right.

Spending time with Sidney was your favourite activity aside from breathing. Tonight it was in the form of getting ready for the teams media day, WAGS were invited and you took full advantage of this so you made Sid take you to get a new dress. It was a sheer, gold colour with lace sleeves that flared out, tenderly decorated in floral patterns.

As you walked out of that changing room to see Sidney sitting on what you called the tired boyfriend, or now in your case, tired fiancée couch, his pointer finger caressing his teeth as he leaned into the soft leather fabric of the couch. The smile that flew over his features would almost be joyous if there wasn't a smirk hinting at the edges of it. His eyes flicking up your body as his eyes raked up your body, tracing the curves and hidden insecurities only he knew the place of.

Brooding and sincere complements fell from his lips as he leaned forward, leaning his forearms on his legs and clasping his veined hands adorned in a few rings you'd bought him over the rings together. His eyes scanned over your body again as he nodded to himself.

"I promise you there will never be a time in my life where I don't believe with my whole heart that you are the most deserving, beautiful and capable women. I hope you know I will do my darned hardest to tell you forever and right now honey, you are the most gorgeous girl in the world." Sid murmured as he grasped your hand, brushing his hand past the gold engagement band, bring it to his lips and kissing it, bringing his mouth down in gentle kisses along the skin all the way to your wrist.

-

”Sidney..” you huffed, “Ow. Fuck, Sid.”

“What!” Sid cried in return, pulling his hand back from your head and meeting your eyes in the mirror.

“Bobbypins don’t go into the skin, they pin the hair back.” You muttered, guiding his hand. Pinning the pin in the correct place.

Once the hair-tasteophy was sorted and the final touches were made to makeup, both you and Sidney. Who was struggling with his tie like normal enter the car and took off towards downtown Pittsburgh, Sid spent the car ride holding, kissing, caressing your hand as he drove.

Once you arrived at the event complex, which was littered by loitering guards and media too. Inside the event there wasn’t a much going on, everyone was standing by as players were whisked off by media and waiters with bite size treats ambles throughout the room.

Sidney stayed glued to your side the entire night, subtle hands on your waist that you could feel clearly but in the dim lighting no one was able to pick up on easily. He placed gentle kiss on your neck and shoulders when he was certain, and oh boy was he certain no one was watching.

When a young media intern can and tapped him on his shoulder and informed him that he needed to deal with some press and other duties he was required for, he squeezed your waist and whispered in your ear.

“Don’t move from here.. I’ll be back as soon as I can darlin.” His hand dipped to your hip, “If we are lucky we can ditch the place after this, have some fun at home.”