#dancer-and-flutter

[pollie-pockets]

Windy wing pony transparents

[charmsponies]

[zootycutieart]

Been a bit, but the final of my 90s Toys SuperThings OCs are finally finished! These two were fun to conceptualize!

Twistpush

"Pass it on!"

Big Bopper

Twist, pull, bop! Twistpush has a plethora of abilities (okay, he has three), but he knows how to put them into great usage! Be it dizzying effects or a quick pop to the face, his attacks are rapid, so keep watch on him, or it's game over for you!

Flutter Twirl

"Round and round!"

Spiral Spin

Flutter Twirl is the last SuperThing you might expect to be a villain. She's bubbly, she's trendy, she's super-sweet. In fact, if it wasn't for her yellow eyes, you'd think she was a hero, because she certainly acts that way, and her motives certainly aren't villainous like many of the others. The reason she's a villain? Her wings are plastic and dangerous, her toy should have been recalled instead of shoved into the time capsule...

SuperThings © Magicbox

Twistpush, Flutter Twirl, and artwork © ZootyCutie (that's me!)

[moth-dancer]

"There is nothing better than sticking needles into people's skin to have them squirming, squeaking and then frantically betray their ideals and loved ones. Perfect ~."

[gloomwitchwrites]

make out sesh with 141 guys pls??? 🥺🙏🏽🛐

A make out session? Oh, yes please. I will say, thank you for leaving the prompt open. I was able to completely run with it and make it my own. I really hope what I’ve cooked up is satisfying. It was fun putting this together!

You’ve got some undercover work and pretending not to know each other, to deny feelings and then admitting feelings, to being sold to pay off a debt (dubcon on this one), and a brief pretend relationship.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): dubcon kissing (Ghost & Price), arguments, uncover missions, suggestive themes, swearing, denial of feelings to admitting feelings, pretend relationship, Crime AU

Word Count: 2.5k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Come here.”

Kyle grabs your wrist and pulls you in the opposite direction. You spin into him, his other arm going about your waist.

“What are you doing?” you ask, volume spiking slightly in surprise.

“Follow my lead,” he murmurs, backing you into a dark corner of the packed bar.

The roar of the crowd is loud, but with Kyle caging you in, it all seems to dampen a little, as if the two of you are in your own world.

“Kiss me,” he says.

“What?”

“We need to blend in.” Kyle turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder., checking the room. “Kiss me,” he insists, lowering his head until the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

Kyle is leading this mission. It’s not like you to question orders, but you also aren’t sure what it is he notices in the crowd.

“Okay,” you mutter, grasping the back of his neck to pull him close.

Closing the distance, you press your lips to Kyle’s, expecting him to remain emotionless and passive. But he surprises, subverts your expectations. Kyle melts under your kiss, returning with more enthusiasm than with what you offered. You���re momentarily surprised, and in that opening, Kyle advances, turning the simple kiss into something more.

His tongue delves, and you taste him.

For a moment, you forget that you’re on a mission, and that this is Kyle, your coworker and teammate. A little moan escapes you, and Kyle responds by placing his hand on your ass, squeezing tightly, forcing you to remain still as he goes in for more.

Time stretches, and the sounds of the packed bar become distant memory. All you know is Kyle. All you understand is the feel of his hands and the way he devours you.

You’re completely lost. Spiraling. Slipping—

Kyle breaks away, and the loss is agony. His chest heaves, lips slightly puffy from your kisses. He laughs. Smirks. Rests his head against yours.

“Got lost there,” he whispers, and your heart flutters.

“Me too,” you affirm, wanting to say more.

Kyle draws back. Glancing over his shoulder again, he checks the room.

“Gone. Good. We can go.”

No, you think. Why can’t we stay here?

John Price

“Go on, doll. Sit in his lap.”

Hovering between remaining still or doing as your told, you glance at Captain Price for guidance. The man is your superior even if you don’t directly take orders from him. But in this moment, he’s not Captain Price, is he? He’s a customer sitting with a man looking to swap drugs for weapons. And you’re supposed to be a hired dancer.

When you agreed to the undercover mission, you expected to shake your ass, maybe even grind in a few laps. Ultimately, you’re there to listen and observe. Yet the target developed a liking to you, bought you so that you’d come dance for him privately.

And now he’s telling you to go sit in Price’s lap.

“Hey! You listening to me?” The target, Damon, snaps his fingers to get your attention. If you weren’t undercover, you’d punch him in his fucking face. “Go sit in his lap. I’m not paying you for fucking laughs.”

You try to give him your best smile but it comes out a grimace. Obediently, you turn, moving toward Captain Price, hips swaying languidly. You’re practically naked right now. Just platform heels, a thong, and a shiny bikini top that barely covers your nipples.

Captain Price watches you intently, and though he retains eye contact, his gaze slips a few times, moving downward before quickly snapping back up again.

With exaggerated movements, you kneel slowly, straddling his lap as you settle in his lap. Price keeps his arms outstretched over the back of the sofa, but his gaze never leaves your face.

“Sorry,” you whisper, because you know Damon can’t see.

Price remains silent.

Damon laughs. “Give him a kiss, doll.”

You inhale deeply, eyes closing as you do so. On the exhale, you open them, waiting for Price to give some sort of clue.

And he does.

It’s so small you won’t even notice unless you were looking for it.

Placing your hands on Price’s chest, you lean forward seductively, popping your ass out and arching your back. You press your lips to his. You expect him to remain passive and unmoving, but Price surprises you, grasping the back of your head to pull you in.

“Give the man some tongue,” Damon shouts over the music.

You want to turn around and hurl something at the idiot, but you comply, hands settling on the top of Price’s shoulders as you go in for more kisses. Price doesn’t push back or resist. If anything, he indulges each one, matching the energy and intensity. He tastes like whiskey and of the cigar he just smoked.

There is no end to it, only Price’s mouth, and the feeling of his hands as he brings them in to touch and caress. It’s not so out of place, there are two other dancers in the room, one of them is likely going down on Damon based on the wet slurping sounds you hear.

But all becomes too much—too intense—and you have to draw back to catch your breath. There is no anger in Price’s face, if anything, you find something unfamiliar.

A hunger.

Desire in those blue irises.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Every pounding step you take shepherds you away from Johnny. Beneath your skin is a buzzing as if your bones and blood vibrate.

“Slow down.”

Johnny’s voice is sharp and desperate. But you do not slow down. How can you? You can’t face him.

He yells your name and the urge to glance back is agony. Yet you remain steadfast.

“Fucking—bloody hell. Slow down.”

As you turn the corner, the exit appears, your freedom moments from reality.

You’re so close.

So—

A large hand grabs your upper arm. You’re yanked backward, dragged into a nearby conference room. Johnny shuts the door and pushes you up against the wall. He has one hand planted firmly against the wall next to your head and the other on your waist. His hips press against yours.

“I hate it when you run,” he growls.

“You didn’t have to follow.”

Johnny chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Just admit it.”

“Admit what?” you snap.

He presses in even more, casting you completely in shadow. “How much you want me,” he murmurs, voice an inviting croon.

There is a wanton nature in you. It craves Johnny like a bird craves to soar with the wind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you gasp.

It’s a lie. You do know.

The desire to close the distance, to press your lips to his is undeniable.

“Don’t lie,” he says, creating no room for movement.

Johnny rests his forehead against yours, the tip of his nose brushing your cheekbone. His warm breath teases your skin, dancing across your flesh. There is only a fraction of space, and all you need to do is tip your face upward, to present yourself to him.

“Johnny,” you whimper, and he groans in response.

“I know you love me,” he whispers, but he’s not really saying it to you, almost like he’s trying to affirm what he already knows. “You love me.”

Don’t deny yourself.

I know you love me.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you reply softly.

Johnny smiles as he closes the distance. The first kiss sends an electrical shot through your system. The connection is instant, a driving force that has your body stirring. Hands move to Johnny’s abdomen, circling to his lower back, pressing to get him even closer.

Each one is deep and suffocating. There is hunger in each one, but it’s the moment his teeth snag your bottom lip that you surrender entirely. Opening, Johnny slides his tongue inside, and you moan for him.

That one sound ignites something in him. Johnny’s hand against the wall drops, coming to rest at the base of your throat. He presses, shoving you harder against the wall and he claims your mouth. His other hand travels to your thigh, squeezes.

You’re grasping for him too, fingers digging into clothes and skin, wanting—no—needing him closer, as if you could fuse your bodies together forever. When you push against him, Johnny retaliates with pressure on your neck. You gasp, breaking the kiss, only for Johnny to go in and gently suckle on your tongue.

“Now,” he murmurs. “Tell me again that you don’t want me.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I’ve come to pay off my father’s debt.”

A pause. Then—

“He’s already paid.”

You frown. “That’s impossible.”

“Are you saying I’m lying?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Never. Just—”

“The debt is paid.”

It’s impossible. Entirely unlikely. Your father is too much of a drunken risktaker to have paid off his debt to Ghost so swiftly. There’s something else going on. A deal, maybe. But you have the money—in cash—he can’t say no to you.

“But I brought the money,” you insist.

Ghost falls back against the cushioned lounge sofa, one arm resting along the back as he observers you from behind the balaclava. All you can see are his brown eyes, and you cannot read his expression.

“What makes you think I’ll take it?” he asks slowly.

Behind you is a black curtain. This area of the club is VIP. The fact that you were let back here at all is a miracle.

“Because I know my father didn’t pay off the debt in cash. He had to have paid some other way.” You twist slightly, opening up your bag to reach for the money. “And I’m here to clear it.”

Finding what you’re after, you present it, holding out in front of you boldly. It’s the only language men like Ghost understand.

He’s not looking at the cash at all, but at you. “You’re right. Your father didn’t pay with cash.”

“Then you can take it.”

You purposefully avoid making it a question. In this, must insist. Ghost could come after not just your father, but you. If you’re lucky, he might take some possessions. Worst case, your life.

Ghost casually spreads his legs, and lightly taps is thigh. “Come here. Sit.”

You blink. “Take the money,” you insist again, an exasperation leaking into your tone.

He chuckles, low and deep and harsh like whiskey. “No. But I’ll take you.”

Your arm starts to hurt, and that little ache weakens the muscles, causing your arm to drop slightly. “I’m not on offer.”

“You were when your father came to see me.”

No. No.

“You lie,” you whisper.

“And I accepted,” he says like it’s a non-issue. “Always had a bit of a soft spot of you anyway.”

Unbelieving, you move forward, this time holding the cash out like a weapon. The two bodyguards on either side of him move forward but Ghost raises his hand. They halt immediately, hands on their weapons and gazes focused in on you.

“Take the fucking money,” you growl.

This time, you see the smirk behind the balaclava. It’s in the way the skin around his eyes wrinkles slightly. Ghost finds this amusing.

When he says nothing, you throw the cash down on the table, and turn your back on him. It’s not smart to give a man like Ghost your back, but you’re pissed. You charge forward, intending to stomp right through the curtains and out of the club. But his bodyguards move to block your path, barring the exit.

“Let me through.”

“I told you,” Ghost calls out. “Your father paid his debt.”

You whirl, trudging forwarding, walking around the table to get as close to him as you can. “I will not—”

Before the sentence is even out of your mouth, Simon is grabbing your hips, yanking you into his lap.

“There,” he coos. “Just as I told you to do.”

You’re too stunned to move. Too surprised to speak. Here you are, straddling this man’s lap, his hands boldly grasping your ass, his gaze—interested.

Your mouth opens. Shuts. Opens again.

“Let—let me go.”

Ghost shakes his head. “Too late for that. You’re mine now.”

When he says mine, his hands lightly squeeze your ass and then drag downward to do the same to your thighs.

He glances over your shoulder, his expression becoming dangerous. “Leave us,” he commands, and the bodyguards disappear.

Ghost’s brow smooths, and then his tone shifts to a familiarity that makes you shiver. “Now that you belong to me, how about a kiss?”

“I’d rather kiss a donkey,” you snap, and Ghost laughs.

“Think you’ll find kissing me more pleasant.”

You scoff, but Ghost’s hands squeeze again, his pelvis lightly grinding against you.

“Go on,” he whispers, voice enticing and welcoming. “Push up the mask. Let me taste you.”

This violent man isn’t to be trusted. And you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. But your hands move up his chest, traveling to the balaclava, fingers curling under the edge. Lifting slightly, you reveal his neck. It’s covered in tattoos, and as you bring the balaclava higher, you find scars and then—his mouth.

Ghost licks his lips, and a stirring heat rises in you. He leans in, and you find yourself giving in.

“I won’t be your whore,” you murmur as you descend.

“No,” agrees Ghost. “You’ll be so much more.”

When your mouth meets his, it’s nothing more than a kiss. Simple. Clean. No teeth or tongue. Just two people closing the distance. He is not tentative though, and when he goes for another, you accept without hesitation. That seems to be the shift, the thing that changes him.

With a low growl, Ghost drags you entirely against him, and there is no subtlety in it. He claims your mouth repeatedly, stealing your breath, making you question everything you know about yourself. A man this dangerous shouldn’t cause such emotion. It shouldn’t make your pussy wet or for your stomach to flip.

But he keeps kissing, and kissing, until you’re grinding against him, meeting Ghost with equal need. And when his tongue teases your lips, you happily open for him, tasting him as much as he tastes you. Each time you try to pull away, to catch your breath and create some distance, Ghost is pulling you in again, and you allow it.

Your father’s debt is paid.

And it’s you.

taglist:

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@unclearblur @kurochan3

[jetsetfrett]

A bulge grinds against you at a club. You turn around to give a snarl of disapproval before you see the smile of a trans girl, bright hair and a tight dress. You'd instantly melt, your heart racing at such a sexy girl would bump into you, let alone grind into you, feeling that bulge would make your heart flutter.

Before you know it your grinding your ass against her trying to see how far she'd tease back before you're suddenly thrusted down to your knees and she tilts your chin up to look up at the tall goddess her low cut dress and tight panties barely keeping her bulge contained.

Down there you can smell how excited you've made her, her sweat and precum dripping from her bulge the musk is so hypnotic you find yourself pushing your face under her dress as you can feel her laugh and her fingers running through your hair encouraging your pathetic behavior. After she's had enough foreplay she'd kick down her panties letting you gaze upon her stiff girlcock in all its glory and before long you're throating her gripping onto her plump ass like your life depends on it.

Your heart races as she pulls her dress up letting the dancers by see your display in full action, you hear cheers and whistles as hungry eyes watch you blow this stranger in front of everyone their aroused scents sending you into a hazy high and before long she pulls out and blows her load all over your pretty face before she'd tussle your hair and drop a few small bills making you feel like a cheap whore after she'd leave without a word leaving you the most aroused you've ever been as the crowd drawers closer and skirts are raised and cocks and cunts are shown off to you, you're thankful the night is still young.

[madamechrissy]

Pour it Up

Pairings: Stripclub Owner Sukuna x Stripper F!reader

Summary:- You are a single mother, your baby daddy is not just worthless, he also is actively trying to sabotage you, so you go out on your own and raise your kid by yourself. Struggling your ass off, a friend of a friend named Toji decides to offer you a hell of a deal, a few hours a night at a strip club to make BANK. While there, you meet the other owner, Sukuna, and the moment he sees you? You annoy him how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, pushing him to insanity. He knows he must have you- no matter whose ass he needs to beat.

Warnings:- reader is a mom, lowkey Yandere Sukuna behavior (He's obsessed- down bad) rec drug use, drug dealing Sukuna (the club a front lol) Mafia ties, EXPLICIT sexual content, fluff/smut AND light angst- violence, some former trauma of reader. This part- Stand up 69.... yep I said it, a HELL of a breed kink, mating press, cumplay, oral sex (m and f receiving) size kink like a MF- Sukuna is huge mmkayyy- rough sex, he's hard in the bed but soft outside of it hehe, angsty in places, and emotional. Get to know Toji more hehe- a little bit of everything <3 WC- 7k

Will be eight parts- ties into my Mob Gojo story- you'll see him and the reader fromt here in here- this chap takes place after chap two of that one- but you can read it alone. Art in the banner is by Sketch B on X

Reblogs/comments so appreciated if you enjoyy!

<<<Part Five Playlist Masterlist Part seven>>>

Part Six

“The new leader of the Kamo family, hmm?” Sukuna murmurs, sitting across from the dark haired man named Choso, who looked so out of place he wanted to laugh, looking away from the strippers and shaking his head.

“He’s cute.” You murmur, earning Sukuna’s scowl, pinching your hip so hard you gasp. “Not like that!”

“I’ll make you pay for that and last night later.” He murmurs, jaw tense as you sit right on his lap so pretty, you’re not dressed to dance because you’re just here for the meeting with him, but your skirt rides up enough he can get a good grip of that nice ass of yours. “Getting excited?”

“Shush!” He smirks as he feels your heat on his thigh, just like the first time he asked you to come sit, the time he fell for you harder and harder.

But the truth is Sukuna fell the moment he met you, though he’s not quite sure you know that yet. He slips down the thin black strap of your top and takes some of the white powder now, tapping it along your bare shoulder, while the men talk, mentioning the man he hates more than anyone, your ex, making him stiffen just a bit.

“The Zenin won’t be any friends of mine.” Choso says calmly, smiling sweetly at one of the bartenders that brings him a drink. “Thank you, pretty.”

You watch Satoru scowl as he yanks the bartender Sukuna has just hired on his lap then, glaring at Choso, while you smile softly at your friend. She’s been through it with her own trouble from what Satoru has just shared, worse than you or Sukuna even knew, and you’re glad to see Satoru look up at her with those big blue eyes of his, clearly obsessed.

“My bartender.” He declares, making Suguru and Toji chuckle, but Sukuna is too busy scowling at you.

“Attention, brat. Give me it now.” You giggle, breathless, brushing his pastel locks back as he rolls a hundred, licking it while the music is reverberating in the huge VIP room, two girls are dancing on Toji, one on Suguru, and more trying to capture Choso’s attention. All while Satoru and your friend clearly need a room.

“It’s a lot going on is all, Kuna, I’m sorry.” He shuts his eyes, his pretty pink lashes fluttering when you press a kiss on his cheek. “You have all my attention.”

“I fucking better.” You’re giggling again until he snorts that powder off your neck, lapping it up with the tip of his tongue and pulling you tight.

“Are you ever gonna let her dance again?” Suguru asks Sukuna then, earning the look of death and everyone's laugh but Sukuna’s.

“The fuck?”

“She’s a hell of a dancer.” Toji winks over at you, making you roll your eyes, feeling your huge boyfriend tense under you.

“Sure the fuck won’t. She’s retired.”

“Kuna I’m like twenty five!?”

“Retired. Now back to business.” He presses a kiss on your neck, a hand on your thigh casually, pulling you further on his lap. “We deal with Mei, she’s likely collecting debt for the Zenin.”

“I want to deal with her, personally.” Satoru says then, his jaw locked as he grips his girl tightly, and you catch her flushed cheeks and glittery eyes.

“Satoru, you can’t go running around provoking everyone without backup.” Suguru, ever the voice of reason murmurs, lighting up a blunt, the smoke fogging up the room, while a pretty girl inhales the smoke he blows into her mouth. He pulls back then, no cough in sight, a professional. “I’ll go with you.”

“We have history.” Satoru mumbles, and Sukuna laughs then, shaking his head.

“Well who hasn’t fucked Mei?” Sukuna says amusedly.

“What now?” You demand, and Sukuna rolls his red eyes.

“I did too, I think I was eighteen.” Suguru admits, as Satoru stares at them all with an open mouth.

“What?” Satoru’s turn to demand, and Toji shrugs.

“I fucked her with Shiu Kong, threesome.” The boys are snickering, as you continue to stare in confusion.

“Okay so everyone fucked this Mei lady, so can we make her stop being a bitch to my friend?” You say now, and the room sobers up.

“We sure will, pookie, don’t worry.” Satoru says to you, before looking back at Suguru. “But I wanna go alone.” 

“Fine, Satoru, but if she gets with the Zenin…” Suguru trails off then, frowning. “Wait, Choso hasn’t fucked her, there is someone here who hasn’t.”

“Well I sure don’t want to, whoever she is.” Choso takes a blunt from Suguru’s hand, surprising you all. “Think I don’t smoke?”

“You seem like a goody goody.” Sukuna muses, earning your pinch.

“You seem sweet.”

“Well thank you.” He says, smiling as he leans over handing you the blunt, and Sukuna yanks it from his hands.

“She doesn’t smoke.” You can’t stop the affection you feel, while Sukuna inhales the blunt, making sure to blow it away from you. “Naoya is a problem, a big one, as he won’t back the fuck off.”

“I’m fine with the Kamo family meeting with the Zenin, to warn them, if you think that’s a good first step?” Choso says, and now Toji scoffs.

“He’s a little fuck face, he’ll still try shit. I say take him out.” Toji says it so carelessly, shrugging a broad shoulder.

“Toji…” You start, he shakes his head.

“Sorry doll, my opinion.”

“Let’s take Mei out too.” Satoru says with a batshit crazy grin.

“Satoru!” His girl says admonishingly, as he pouts up at her, and she brushes a hand through his snowy locks. “No killing.”

“Do you know what a mafia is, baby girl?” He asks, and she sighs, as do you, shaking your heads.

“The solution can’t just be ‘taking people out’.” Choso agrees, while Satoru angrily hits the blunt, rolling his eyes.

“Boring.” Satoru grumbles.

“Boring.” Toji agrees.

“Boring.” That’s Sukuna, making you gasp, as Suguru grimaces, burying his head in his hands.

“You all exhaust me. I think I’ll like Choso here.” He puts a hand on the dark haired man’s shoulder, and he smiles a bit.

“Let’s try to threaten them.” Gojo says, and the room all reluctantly agree. “I’ll deal with Mei, Choso can deal with the Zenin before we get Sukuna involved.”

“The fuck, why?”

“Because you’ll kill him.” Toji mutters, snorting a line off the new bottle girl’s neck, sighing as he does. “I don’t blame ya, but don’t act like you won’t.”

“I may not… kill him. Maybe? Not definitely.”

“Kuna…”

“Don’t you Kuna me.”

“Kuna.” Toji mimics, earning a middle finger in his direction while Sukuna looks up at you.

“Yes, brat?” Sukuna says then, looking at you avidly, his eyes darkening, you know how furious he is with Naoya.

“No killing.”

“You’re such a goody goody.” He huffs, tossing down a drink now, while you shift in his lap. “Fine, that’s the plan for now. I’m heading out early, me and this brat need a couple hours alone.”

“Bet you do.” Satoru grins, wiggling his white brows, and Sukuna walks out with you now, through the humming and bustling darkness of the club, holding you close, you can feel his tension.

“Text Miwa, I wanna know if she can keep Touma out for a couple hours.” He says once you’re in the back of the limo, and then he watches the flush creep across your cheeks. “I’ll pay her more, and you don't have to work today.”

“You probably won’t let me work again!”

“Nope.”

“Oh goodness. Where’s my feminism?” He’s grinning big as he yanks you on his lap, straddling him this time.

“Left the moment I snorted coke off you. Or maybe when you sucked me off so good that night?” His voice gets husky, as his thumb brushes on your lower lip, and you shift just so, making him ache.

“Got you off fast.”

“You brat… text her now.”

******

Soon you and Sukuna are all alone in his penthouse, he sets a timer then, for the time Miwa is bringing Touma back. “You’re thorough, hmm?”

“I am not getting cockblocked tonight.” Your laughter is soon turning into cries when Sukuna has his huge hands all over you, kissing you desperately, just holding you up in the air, letting your legs dangle.

“Kuna, please…”

“Stop teasing, brat… strip for me, now.” Sukuna’s order rushes through you, as you step back just a bit, unbuttoning your top until it falls down your body, then your skirt falls, until you’re in panties and a bra, his ruby eyes washing over you hungrily. “Don’t stop there, let me see all of you.”

You’re trembling without his touch, with just his gaze that holds so much power over you, reaching back and unsnapping the lacy strap, letting it fall, as Sukuna studies your pretty breasts that sway just so as they bounce out of it, little marks left where it’s pressed into your skin. He steps forward then, big hands with those tattooed wrists brushing under them, where the line of your strap was.

“Mnh!” He chuckles a bit, continuing his caresses, as if he’s trying to rub away all the strain the bra put you through that day, before stepping back, eyes dipping to your thighs.

“Panties off too.” You turn now, slipping them down your ass, peering back at him with a little smile as the pool to your ankles.

“Like the view, Mr. Sukuna?”

“Tch, you’re so bratty. Turn.” You turn back to him, bare feet padding gently across the plush rug beneath you, he’s already shirtless but now your hands are fiddling with the belt around his thick waist, dying for him to be as naked as you. When you get his thick, heavy cock free you whimper just a bit, touching that barbell coated with his milky precum.

You bend down and slip his pants and boxers, then eagerly get to your knees, only for him to pull at your hair, earning your attention to his face, a devious fucking smirk on his features. “Didn’t I owe you, for not cumming yesterday?”

“Oh, you owe me alright, passing out on me.” You giggle, but he’s pulling you up even as your tongue darts on that reddened tip.

“Let me pay it back then, hmm? Ah! Kuna…”

He’s yanked you up, pulling you by the hands until his strong back is nearly against the wall. “I see you on that pole, you know, gliding around it, hanging upside down…”

His murmur is met with his rough hands on your bare waist, squeezing against your ribcage, he makes you feel so small, as he lifts you then, like it’s nothing of course, how strong he is he just lets you dangle off the ground. “Kuna, let me suck you-”

“Oh, you’ll suck me right down that throat.” You scream out when he’s flipped you upside down then, until your calves are hanging on his shoulders, and you’re hanging upside down, hands reaching to his hips as you wriggle.

“Kuna, what!?” He chuckles right against your soppy little cunt, making you jerk, fearing you’ll lose balance, you cling, as blood rushes to your head.

“See how long you can suck me like this, huh little stripper of mine? I got you, I won’t drop your ass, stop wiggling.” You exhale, then your clit twitches as he flicks a tongue on it, arms wrapped around your hips in some insane standing 69 position that you’ve only ever read about.

“K-Kuna…” You feel the blood rushing to your head, as he laps his long tongue right against your pussy, groaning.

“Suck it deep, lemme feel your throat tighten when you cum f’me.” You’re done for then, opening your mouth as your hair falls, as your body heats up, clinging to his thighs now as you suck his cock eagerly into your mouth, and he moans against you, making the sensations higher. “Deeper, brat, you can do it…”

You suck him deeper, head bobbing while upside down, making you dizzy, as he devours your pussy now, leaning back on the wall to pull you more against him, shoving his cock so deep down your throat you gag on it, which only makes it better. He’s licking that sweetness while your moans make his cock twitch, while you’re sucking him all you can, deeper and deeper.

“God, so slutty just f’me, hmm?” You can’t answer, not with nine inches down your throat, not as you’re clinging to him, pussy pulsing around the wet muscle of his tongue, shoving in so deep then that you’re about to cum all over his face, feeling yourself floating as you dangle there, as he holds you. “Mmm, p-perfect, fuck…”

He’s losing himself in you, holding you up as you work so hard, thinking how the fuck he’s this, lucky, that he has you, all to himself. As he flicks his tongue and has you gushing across his face, thighs squeezing him, hanging on like he is your pole, sucking him like your life depends on it.

“Mngh– mpf!” You’re no longer making coherent noises, as blood rushes in your ears, and you hear your own pulse race, bucking and grinding on his face as you take so much of him your throat is burning, eyes crying.

“Good girl. Look at you.” He’s got you flipped once more now, clinging to him as he slams you against the wall, cool textured patterns pressing into overheated skin, while you’re spinning, clinging to him so dizzy.

“You’re insane, Ryomen Sukuna.” You’re clinging to him tighter, as he presses you on that wall, brushing a thumb across where drool has spilled from the corner of your mouth.

“You did so good for me, baby, shit.” His praise makes anything else fade, as color hits your cheeks, you’re grinding those hips as your thighs press around his strong torso, pussy dripping along his belly button and lower.

If Sukuna had a tongue there, he’d lap it right up too.

What an odd thought, he muses, slamming his lips back on yours, his huge hands pressing into the plush of your ass while he lets you grind right on his abdomen, making every muscle slick with your cum. “Kuna…”

“Wanna put a baby in you, shit.” You’re already weak, now he’s ending you, when he carries you to the bed, laying you down and shoving your thighs up. “Imagine, those titties dripping milk, so big…”

“Oh my god…” You’re clinging to his pastel locks, as he’s sucking on your nipples now, and you can picture it all so vividly, making you pulse around nothing, dying for him to do just that. “Do you have… a breed kink?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, Sukuna is absolutely a kinky mother fucker, he’s had submissives, he’s had girls in handcuffs, he’s even learned shibari and hung them from the ceiling. For whatever reason, he has far too much fun doing even the most basic things with you, he knows your past was…

Shit.

And your experiences, shit, so he’s eased it up on you - yes that was Sukuna being gentle - but he has never experienced whatever feral shit it is in him that makes him so badly want a baby in you. Another baby for you to take care of, to stay home with and watch their dumbass shows, to watch as your belly grows, and you’re marked more by his baby inside you.

What is it exactly that's happening to him?

With you he loses all sense of control.

“Breed kink, is that what it’s called?” He’s smirking down as you giggle, breathless, brushing your fingers against the jut of his cheekbone.

“Is it just a kink?” Your words wreck his brain, when he lines up his huge, lengthy cock against your slutty little hole, so ready for him.

“It could be more.” He shoves his cock deep in you then, folding you into a mating press, you’re screaming out, head falling back, thanking god that your son isn’t in the house, there’s no way sound proofing works for that scream. “God, so desperate, ya gonna cum already?”

“F-fuck… yes…” He’d chuckle again but you’re gripping him too tightly, he’s too deep folding your much smaller frame in half, the size difference alone in the huge man’s hands is ending him, watching his cock stretch your tight little hole, stuffing you so full. “Too much!”

“Nah, you can take it brat, huh?” You’re senseless when he pulls nearly completely out, moaning at your arousal dripping down his cock so filthy, stuffing it back inside your cunt all the way, as much as he can at least, there’s too many inches for Sukuna to bottom out in your little cunt. “Too much for you huh?”

“I c-can do it…” He’s smiling wickedly, a big white grin spread across half his face, while those ruby eyes light up and he slams into your pussy again, making you grip his biceps with those nails of yours, sinking in and leaving marks. “Kuna!”

“Feel too good, I can’t take it easy anymore.” You blink in shock when he’s pressing on those thighs, fucking into you faster, harder, smacks of his skin heard along with the sound of your greedy cunt taking all she can.

“Gonna cum, mnh!” He slows now, smirking at your cute little scowl. “N-no keep going!”

“Mmm, not yet brat.” You’re gasping as he rolls his hips so deep, his stubble along the top of his cock grinding against your little twitchy clit, making you closer in a whole other way, while his piercing hits your g spot again, rolling there, inch by inch. “Close, hmm?”

“P-please!” He sighs, you just are too pretty desperate and begging, he leans back and rolls his thumb on your clit now, as your thighs shaky, and you’re gushing down on him.

“So messy, look at you. Tch.” He’s using that slippery mess to roll on your clit as he puts the soles of your pretty feet on his chest, yes even your feet are pretty to him, every bit of you is, while he nips your ankle and presses your engorged clit deeper, making you close to shattering. “Beg for it.”

“You’re… such a jerk… I swear!” He pulls off his finger then, and you yank his wrist, still pinned, as he smirks down at you. “Put it back, please…” You’re pouting, taking his thumb and sucking your juices off it then, leaving him speechless for just a moment. “Kuna!”

“Beg me.”

“I said please?”

“Nah.” He’s pulling his entire cock out of you now, and your glare makes you look way too pretty, when he’s got you on your knees now, pressing your head down into the mattress, smacking his heavy thick cock on your ass. “God, she’s so perfect, but she needs new handprints.”

“Mnhph!” You’re whining into the pillow as he smacks one ass cheek, then the other, over and over, making you tremble in need. You’re arching up for more, earning his chuckle, as he looks at just how tiny that pussy is, the difference again wrecking his addled brain, while his cock disappears in ways it shouldn’t.

“Fuck you’re perfect, brat, shit…” He’s murmuring now, his piercing hitting some new damn spot, as he eases in you halfway, smacking your ass again, they’re covered in his prints now, the skin whelping up in places, all while you’re struggling to cum, rocking back your hips.

He holds them still, earning you up on shaky arms, scowling back at him. “Kuna, let me cum, didn’t I do good when you h-had me f-flipped!?”

“So needy, tsk.” Your eyes narrow before he shoves deeper, hand pulling your hair now, your eyes roll back as you see stars when he slams your cervix like this. “Being bratty?”

“Wanna cum, please… with you, with you.” He’s pausing now, before he yanks your head to him, leaning over your body to kiss you so sloppy, his tongue and your dripping down so messy, as you’re struggling to take him this way.

“Want me to cum inside? Fill you up?” You nod eagerly, when he pulls you to your knees, pumping deep inside you, a strong arm wrapping your body and a hand splaying your tummy.

“Please, please, K-Kuna I… want it!” You’re breathless when he shoves his cock so deep you’re squirming, the orgasm so close, but he stops again, to your frustration, to the point you’re in tears as he looks at you again.

“Want a baby in you, hmm brat?” You’re struck by the feral look in his ruby eyes. “Wanna be so full of me, here?”

He’s pressing your tummy as you nod then, swallowing, throat dry. “I want it in me, Kuna.”

“Say it - beg for it.” His husky voice and thrust send you, you lean back to cup his face, your palm feeling far too good, while your cunt is pulsating around him.

“Please put your b-baby inside me, please. Want it, need it, please… ah!” Sukuna has you on your back again, throwing you this way and that like you’re nothing, now he’s got you folded so in half your knees nearly touch the bed, folding you in ways you didn’t think were possible anymore.

“Gonna put that baby in you, fuck so many babies, huh slutty little brat?” He whispers, you gulp and nod, seeing him go so insane, and he’s ended then, rolling his hips just so, watching you go off that edge. “You’re just here for me to breed then, huh? My little fucking breed toy?”

“Shit…” You’ve known Sukuna is freaky, but he’s lost it, leaning back to watch his cock disappear again and again, groaning as he feels you tightening.

“Is that what you are? For me to breed you?”

“Kuna…”

“Answer brat, I’ll let you cum.” You take several breaths, struggling to form words as the man fucks into you.

“Breed me.” Those words send him further, as he fucks you so hard it hurts, hands bruising your thighs, but you’re dying for it, for the pain, for the way he looks at you, how he’s pulsing inside you now. “P-please!”

“Cum then, just f’me, lemme put so many inside you.”

You’re screaming his name as he finally lets you cum, his own orgasm following, his cock swelling and pulsing, filling you up so much you feel your cunt dripping his cum, while you’re gripping the blankets, panting. Your orgasm is so intense you can’t even fucking see, gasping as he lets your thighs down, cupping your face and slamming his lips on yours.

He’s still cumming from that reddened tip snug on your cervix, leaving him breathless with the intensity, and there is so much of it. Your body starts to convulse around him, a second orgasm ripping through you as he’s still not done, filling you up with his hot cum, making you feel so full, so owned when he’s pulling back finally, exhaling and looking down at you.

“Sukuna… your breed kink is intense.” You whisper, he chuckles then, the sound echoing in the room, shaking his head. “Is this normal for you?”

“God no, I’ve never…” He clears his throat then, as he brushes a finger across your brow, coated in a thin sheen of sweat. “I’ve never felt like that, or… wanted to. Shit you fuck me up, bratty stripper.”

“Bratty stripper, really?” You raise a brow, lips pursed, and he’s sighing, rolling ruby eyes as he rests his chin on his forearm, studying you carefully.

“You bring it out in me, alright?”

“Kuna… I’m your first breed kink huh?”

“Oh shut up. You love it.” He pulls out now, and your little smile turns into a gasp, as you watch just how much cum pours out, yours and his. “Messy, slutty pussy, she wants all my cum.”

“That’s your mess, Mr. Sukuna. Should clean it.” He raises a brow at your giggle, before he’s standing, laying you on your back, your head dangling then.

“Your mess, you clean it.”

“Oh is it now?” You eagerly lap at him as your hair dangles off the edge of the bed, and you tease a lick on his balls, earning his moan. “Both our messes.”

“More you.” He huffs, leaning over you to finger the sticky cum of his pouring out of your hole, making his cock twitch again.

“Mmm!” He’s shoved his cock deep in your throat, while you suck the juices off him, still mostly hard somehow, earning his soft cry that makes your sore cunt ache, while he leans over you and laps that tongue on your clit, while his cock shoves so deep in your throat you choke on it.

Sukuna groans as he fucks into your throat for the second time that day, licking his own cum off your clit, before pulling back, and watching the bulge in your throat move, sparking more inside him. “Not gonna be able to talk huh?”

The alarm goes off then, and Sukuna exhales, pressing a kiss on your clit as he pulls back, easing you up, your eyes are so fucked out you look dizzy. You touch your throat, clearing it, sitting with wobbly legs. “Almost time for him to come home?”

“Mmhmm, your little cockblock kid.”

“You love him, shut up.” You shove at him playfully, as he picks you up again, taking you to his bathroom.

“Tch, I deal with both of you.” You giggle and shake your head, seeing his plump lips twitch as he sits you down on the counter. “We have time to clean up.”

*****

When Miwa brings Touma home, you have a towel around your damp hair, as Miwa looks at you and covers her hand to giggle. Sukuna hands her hundreds. “This is too-”

“No, I really needed this. Thank you.” He mumbles, she can’t stop her giggle and neither can you as Touma runs up and hugs you over the fluffy robe.

“I love him.” Miwa murmurs in your ear, you blush as she eyes you.

“I do too.” She smiles at that, patting Touma’s head then.

“Love you Miwa!” He declares, and she gives him a little kiss.

“Love you too, be good and get some sleep for mommy hmm?” He nods as she waves at you all and leaves, when Touma turns to Sukuna.

“Will you watch a show with me?” Sukuna glares at his watch.

“It’s ten, kid.”

“It’s the weekend!”

“Melatonin-”

“Sukuna.” You glare and he sighs again. “I have to blow dry my hair, can you two watch just one episode maybe?”

“Of what!?”

“Bluey.” You and Touma say at the same time, making Sukuna grimace as you and… mini you… stare at him with those damn eyes.

Fuck he loves you, and now he’s loving your annoying kid, who wants to watch a stupid dog show.

How’d he fall so bad for you?

“I’m getting soft.” He mutters, when you kiss his cheek after he agrees.

“What’s wrong with soft? Hmm?”

“You’ll make up for this, woman.” You’re grinning as you run off, leaving him and the kid to watch this ‘stupid’ Bluey character on the couch. The kid is snuggling on Sukuna’s lap, clinging to him with his arms around his neck, the kid is as clingy as you, it seems, even as he shoves at him, he comes back. “Kid…”

“You’re comfy, Mr. Kuna!”

“Am not, I bench three fifty easy and-”

“Comfy!”

“Jesus. Let’s start this stupid show.” He wonders how long it takes to dry your hair as he scowls at the shut bathroom, you’re just torturing him. But slowly he gets absorbed in the damn show, and starts asking a yawning Touma questions. “Who’s that one?”

“Uncle Stripe! Hmm, you could be Uncle Kuna!” He presses a kiss on Sukuna’s cheek, he grimaces, wiping it off and shoving at the kid, who just comes back and clings again, laughing. “Papa Kuna then!”

“Papa Kuna the hell, kid.” Touma snuggles back in his lap as the show goes on, but his next words clutch at Sukuna’s heart.

“I don’t really know my Papa, except he made Mama sad sometimes.” Sukuna gulps, wondering just how much you don’t share, while Touma yawns again. “That’s why I’ll protect Mama.”

“Do you hate your Papa for being… well, a dick?” Touma blinks curiously, and Sukuna remembers he’s a little… kid or whatever, and doesn’t know his bio dad is a psycho dick.

“A what?”

“Shit… I mean, do you hate him for being bad to Mama?”

Touma frowns a bit for a moment. “No. I don’t… hate him. I don’t know him though. Just Mama. And she’s the best Mama in the world.” He grins brightly then, and Sukuna smiles at the clear love in his eyes for you.

“She seems like a pretty cool mom, huh?”

“The best! No one is a better mama.” Sukuna contemplates it then, what was fun and something to think of, you are a mother first, he knows that’s the most important part of you. “What should I call you, Mr. Kuna?”

“You can call me whatever kid, I guess.” He grumbles, earning Touma giggling, he sounds a bit like you when he does.

“Mama loves you.” His words again hit mushy things inside Sukuna, a mobster, a strip club owner, a man who had no attachments, now has a girl he’s in love with and a kid that he wants to take care of, so soon.

Like some whirlwind you’ve overtaken everything, since the moment his eyes met yours, and he saw it, something different, the type of love he has for you is difficult to explain or express. But he’d burn the goddamn world down for you, and your kid, if that’s what either of you needed, and any kids he had with you.

“I love your Mama too, even when she’s a little annoying.”

“Hey now!” You come out, skin all smooth and dewy, your hair glimmering from whatever fancy products he bought you, smelling far too good. “I love you both, but I am not annoying.”

“Tch. Sure, brat, this dog is annoying.”

“No, you like it, Papa Kuna.” He snorts, rolling his eyes as you falter, seeing Touma cling even tighter to Sukuna’s neck, as he pats a spot next to him on the couch, but you’re stuck there, like the gravity is pulling you down.

“Papa Kuna?” You murmur, and Sukuna shrugs a shoulder.

“He can call me whatever annoying thing he wants. Both of you and your dumb nicknames.” You sit then, tears filling your eyes, while you brush back Touma’s hair, seeing he’s dozed off right on Sukuna’s chest, feeling such affection you can hardly stand it. “Brat…”

“Don’t you tell me not to cry.” You’re already sniffling as you cover them up with a blanket, eyes watering as Sukuna sighs, reaching across Touma to cup your cheek, brushing aside a tear.

“You’re just a cry baby, hmm?” You just nod, and kiss him gently, salty tears flowing down his lips as he pulls back then, looking at Touma and brushing his hair back, your exact hair, so much of him is just like you. “Why are you crying this time?”

“Look at him. He l-loves you.” You’re sobbing quietly, and Sukuna feels his own emotions hit him, swallowing. If you make him cry he’s going to beat your backside. “He never had this from anyone but me. Never. I…”

“Shh. Let me put him to bed.” You nod then, as he kisses your head, carrying Touma to his room, coming back to hold you tightly, letting you sob all over his soft black shirt, shutting off the show with a click of the remote. “It’s okay, you’re safe here.”

“I love you so much. So much it hurts.” Sukuna gulps again, clutching your body tightly to him. “It’s crazy, how soon it happened, l-like when I m-met you…”

“Shh.”

“No, it was when I danced for you.” You pull back, cheeks a sticky mess, lip trembling so hard he brushes a thumb over it, letting you continue to melt him until he’s a mush. “You touched my tummy… my stretch mark, you said it was sexy.”

His hand comes to your waist then, thumb brushing the same area. “They are sexy. All of you is.”

“No one made me feel that way, until you, something about how you looked at me, how you touched me…” You are pulled against him tightly, as his breath tickles your lips, and he looks down at you. “I fell bad then.”

“I fell when I saw you, I knew I had to have you. And I do, and guess what?” You’re sniffling, heart pounding while he speaks those words, your hands grip his shoulder, while he holds you close.

“What?” You whisper, when he leans down further, taking over your every sense.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you or come near you, both of you.”

“Kuna…” You’re kissing, as he holds you so tightly, letting you cry against his chest, letting you whisper all the words of love Sukuna never knew he’d hear, or feel, as he rubs his hands up and down your back. “Thank you, for all of this. Everything.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. It’s everything.” He takes a breath then, smiling down at you and raising a brow. “What is that look?”

“Can we… go on a date?” You giggle, now he’s glaring daggers at you. “It’s not a joke, brat.”

“We don’t need to though, we live together and-”

“You deserve a damn date. Okay? I’ve never… been on one?” You blink in shock, one, two, three times. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Sukuna, you had a sex swing and own a strip club?”

“That doesn’t mean I went on dates.”

“Aw, so I’d be your first?” He stands as you hop up pulling him down now, giggling when he continues to scowl, looking so serious, his jaw is even clenched when you brush your fingers along it. “I’d love to.”

“Shit, yeah?” You nod eagerly, letting him pick you up and carry you to bed then, and you look so peaceful he thinks, snuggled and smiling, when your phone rings.

It’s way too late, and a private number, making his heart pound in his chest.

Sukuna picks up the phone, saying nothing, hearing Naoya’s voice then - “Where do you live now, just up and left with my son, huh? Do you really think you’ll get away with it, bitch- I have the DA in my pocket. I-”

Sukuna cuts him off quickly, his words making you stir awake. “Count your fucking days, Naoya. Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

He stutters as you realize in horror Sukuna is on your phone with him, god why can’t he let you be happy? He wanted nothing to do with you or Touma until you were happy, with Sukuna, who’s fuming, standing up right out of bed and squeezing your phone so tightly you think it’ll break.

“You think hiding behind the Gojo name will keep you safe, don’t you Sukuna - so scared you have to get the Kamo family to send me threats?” Sukuna’s laugh is dangerous then, frightening as you watch in horror.

“I’m not scared of you in any fucking way, I was trying to handle the situation with more concern than you have for anything, but if it’s a war you want, it’s a war you’ll fucking get.” Your mouth opens but Sukuna shushes you with just a look. “Or you wanna meet one on one, how’s that nose?”

“Fuck you, all this for what, to get at the Zenin?”

“All this because I love the girl you threw away, thank god you did too, you didn’t even deserve to look at her.”

“Then meet me tomorrow, I’ll send the details, and we’ll fucking end it all. She’s mine, and so is that goddamn kid, I’ll not just hand them over.”

“I’ll meet you alright.” He hangs up, and you watch in horror as your phone is crushed in Sukuna’s huge hand, crumbling and cracking, when he starts going to his drawers and digging out clothes.

“Sukuna, what did he say?” You whisper, he turns to look at you, insane, scary grin on his features.

“He said he wants to fucking die baby. That’s what. I’ll buy you a better phone, by the way.” He glances at his hand, covered in little cuts, you stand then, holding his palm as your worst fears are coming true.

“I can’t have you hurt because of me!”

“I’ll do anything for you, didn’t I say that?”

“But I-”

“I’m not meeting him tonight, I need to meet the boys. Okay?” You take a shaky breath, shaking your head.

“I want you to be in bed. I want him to leave us alone.”

“He will.”

“You can’t actually…”

“Kill him?” You bite your lip, nodding. “I love you, I’ll do whatever I have to in order to keep you safe, if it comes to it I’ll end him without blinking.”

“But you could get hurt!”

“He can’t touch me.” His bloody hand cups your cheek now, as he kisses you deeply, and your tummy turns and spins. “I need to end this for good. I have a date to take you on.”

He tilts your chin up, kissing away your tears, seeing the little bits of his own blood across your face. “Please come back home to us.”

“I will, brat, you worry too much.” Your frown makes him soften. “I will come back home, to both of you.”

“You better.” He kisses you again, getting dressed and leaving quietly, as you cry for the third time today, all for different reasons, seeing yourself in the mirror, touching your reddened cheek in the night glow, with the moon softly glowing in through the windows.

You peer down and see him hopping into a limo then, on the phone, touching your own chest as he looks up and sees your silhouette in the limo, dialing Toji’s number. “What is it? I’m getting sucked off, shit.”

“I didn’t need to know that.” Sukuna takes a shot that’s sitting in the cooler inside the limo, downing it in one go, sighing. “Finish it, I’m on my way.”

“Finish it, doll no teeth.” Toji tuts at the pretty girl sucking at him, while he’s sipping on his beer, biting back a moan and scowling at the phone. “You’re on one tonight, what happened?”

“He called her, threatening her, and I answered.”

Toji pauses then, pulling the girl off him reluctantly. “Just a minute, hmm?” She nods a bit, and Toji pulls up his pants, as he stares out the window of his apartment into the night. “What’d he say?”

“Too much. He was at her old place. The shit he… I can’t let him hurt her, or her fucking kid, Toji. I need a favor from you.”

Toji downs his beer then, grimacing and running a hand through his dark locks as he throws the bottle out with a clink. “Don’t need to beg me to help her, I will come with you.”

“Fuck you’re not that shit sometimes huh?”

“Oh fuck off Sukuna. I’m finishing this bj before I come out.”

Sukuna snorts then, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, you never lasted long from what I heard-”

“Fuck I didn’t, you don’t know shit- soundproofing your room.”

“So you wouldn’t jerk off to me.”

“Oh fuck you, I’m just doing this for her, not even you.” Sukuna sobers up a bit, as your face hits his mind, and he nods a bit.

“I’ll just wait then. Thank you Toji.”

“And a thank you? Damn she’s got you soft.” Sukuna thinks of crushing another phone, but hangs up instead, downing another shot with a shaky hand, while Toji calls back over the pretty bottle girl from the club.

“Sorry doll, go ahead now.” She’s back to sucking him deep in her throat, but for some reason Sukuna’s words and you being in danger has his mind all over, the Zenin have long been a problem. It’s why he long changed his name to the girl he loved so long ago, the one he lost.

Sukuna clearly loves you like Toji did, and now it makes him sick to think of Naoya, he knew when he saw you he was no good, but he didn’t know it extended so far. The pretty girl pulls back with a pop, frowning, and Toji grimaces, pulling her up on his lap now.

“I’ve got too much on my mind, your mouth is perfect, mmkay doll?” She nods shyly, gasping when Toji shoves two thick fingers in her pussy.

“Mr. Toji!” He’s curling them as her head falls back, and he’s kissing down her chest. “S-so good mnh!”

“Might as well have one of us cum.” He’s sucking her off him before he sends her home, finally joining Sukuna in the Limo, and seeing his addled state. “Shit, at least you interrupted me for a good reason. When’s he gonna meet?”

“Tomorrow, but I have a question for you, Toji.”

“What’s that?”

“Have you ever thought about leading them?”

Toji sputters then, as Sukuna smokes on a blunt, filling the limo up with smoke, handing Toji the blunt. “Leading them?”

“You’re the one who should be, hmm?”

“Fuck that, Sukuna, I can’t. I’ll help you take him out, but not that.” Sukuna sighs, nodding then, he knows how deep his hatred goes. “So… we’re taking him out?”

Sukuna grins. “I’d love to take him the fuck out, but one thing we are absolutely making sure of, he will never come near her again.”

A/N- Am I hinting at a Toji spinoff? MAYBE hehe- also expect Mob Gojo Chapter three next - I'll have a preview of him tonight actually. TY for all the love on the Mafia boys - I am so flattered by the love for our obsessed men. Hope you enjoyed this!

Taglist #1- @naina326 @1worm1 @yenayaps @shokosbunny @sukubusss @msniks @kittyyyyykats @nyxly1412 @trashsuarecan @dumbbunny98 @monster-effer @tojis-ball-sack @tangsakura @friesnkwtchup @lhhlver @attackonnat @moonchhu @mat-mat-mat @cherryjain17 @havkjhdecs @stargirl-mayaa @the-dark-creature @lulunx @saitamaswifey @spacefae-x @deitysdream @sorahatake @gojoscumslut @stainednailpolishremover @kidd3ath @clp-84 @rinkomei @catastayy @oneirataxiaa @inthedarkshadows000 @travistheaussie @cold-blooded-girls @emi311 @blublublubby @fluttershyfangs @actuallynarii @7thsthings @ilovemeni @erluu @for-hearthand-home @angellliqua @mai-505 @suguru-nugget

[pomegranatelifethis]

Request:Can I request a Yandere platonic batfam with a neglected reader who is a dancer, maybe a ballerina and they don't realise they bought tickets to see her in a show like swan lake and they realise

Broken ballerina

Yandere Platonic Batfam x Neglected Ballerina Reader

In the shadows of Wayne Manor, lost in the endless chaos of Gotham, you had been forgotten for years. You tried to get their attention, to make them see you, to remind them that you were there—but it was never enough.

They were heroes, always busy.

And you… were alone.

But you had built your own world. Every time the feeling of abandonment swallowed you whole, you escaped to the stage. Dance was your freedom. Even when your bones ached, even when your feet bled, it was the only place where you felt truly alive.

And one night, without even realizing it, they came to watch.

---

The opening night of Swan Lake was a grand event. For the Wayne family, it was just another prestigious Gotham cultural affair. Alfred had secured the tickets and practically dragged them there. None of them had a particular interest in ballet, but they understood its importance.

Then, the curtain rose.

And there you were.

The breath caught in their throats.

Your delicate frame, your perfect posture, your graceful turns… Silent as a ghost, fragile as a porcelain doll, yet glowing under the stage lights. The way your arms fluttered, the way you glided across the stage like a swan in flight—every movement was mesmerizing.

Something inside them shattered.

Bruce’s fingers clenched around the armrest. How had he missed this? How long had you been dancing? Why hadn’t you told him?

Dick’s eyes filled with something close to guilt. He could read it now, the expression they had ignored for years: Freedom. You looked ready to fly away.

Jason’s brows furrowed. This wasn’t right. You standing there, exposed to the world, to strangers’ eyes—it felt wrong. Every cheer, every clap of the audience… it was as if they were stealing you.

Tim’s mind was racing. How had he overlooked this? How had he failed to notice? This was a massive mistake.

Damian’s face darkened. These people didn’t know that you were theirs.

Cassandra’s heart clenched. You were telling them everything through your movements. And what she saw made her sick—on that stage, you were happier than you had ever been with them.

They couldn’t accept that.

When the final act ended and the curtain fell, something else was just beginning.

---

That night, they were waiting for you backstage.

A chill ran down your spine when you saw them. The weight of their stares, the intensity in their eyes—it was suffocating.

You hesitated. Why were they here? After all this time, after years of ignoring you, why now?

Bruce stepped forward. “How long have you been doing this?” His voice was soft, but there was an edge of danger beneath it.

You gave a vague answer. Jason let out a low growl. Dick placed a hand on his shoulder, but his own eyes were burning with questions.

"Why didn’t you tell us?" Tim’s voice was deceptively calm.

You took a slow breath, steadying yourself. Then, with a quiet strength that left no room for doubt, you spoke:

"I did."

Silence.

You had told them. Years ago. Again and again. You had told them that you danced, that the stage was your home, that this was everything to you. But they had never listened. They had always been too busy.

"We’ll talk later," they had said. But later never came.

And now? Now they saw you only because you shined under stage lights?

Bruce’s jaw tightened. His gaze never wavered. “You should have shared this with us.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “I tried.”

Dick stepped closer, his tone almost pleading. “We just… didn’t notice. But we can fix this.”

Your eyes narrowed. Now? Now they wanted to fix it?

Jason crossed his arms, scowling. “We didn’t know you were this alone.”

Tim’s fingers twitched in frustration. How had he let this slip past him? How had he not seen the signs?

Damian’s voice was sharp as a blade. “You can’t be on your own. Being on stage doesn’t make you strong.”

Cassandra said nothing. But her expression spoke louder than any words. You won’t leave us, right?

But you had already made up your mind.

You inhaled deeply, shaking your head. “There’s nothing to fix.”

Their eyes widened.

"You saw it, didn’t you?" You lifted your chin. "I don’t need you."

And that—

That was their breaking point.

That was the spark that turned their guilt into something far more dangerous.

Because they could not accept that they had neglected you.

They could not accept that they had lost you.

And one thing was certain—

From this moment on, they would never let you slip away again.

Tag : @welpthisisboring

@lilyalone

[amoressb]

───── KISS ME MORE 西村 力 N. RK

ꪆৎ ⋆˚࿔ trying to finish his makeup but he just can’t stop kissing you ｡｡ idol bf!riki x makeup artist!reader. fluff & wc. 1.4k ; lots of kissing, skinship, petnames｡｡

──── ARCHiVE

the backstage dressing room of the sold out arena was alive with activity. assistants rushed in and out, carrying outfits and adjusting mics, while the members of enhypen filled into the room, their energy a mix of nerves and excitement. riki, the main dancer, was the last to enter, his stage outfit already clinging perfectly to his frame. his hair was freshly styled and his usual confident grin was firmly in place.

you stood near the vanity, arranging your makeup tools neatly. you glanced up when the door opened and your heart did it’s usual flutter when your eyes landed on riki. despite working and being together for years now, he still had that effect on you.

“hey pretty,” riki greeted, making a beeline for you as the other members settled into their chairs. without a care for the busy room, he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “riki!” you exclaimed, glancing around to make sure no one had seen, your cheeks flushing pink. “we’re at work!”

“and?” he teased, his voice soft and low so only you could hear. “it’s not like they don’t already know.” you tried to keep your expression neutral, but his adoring gaze was making it impossible. he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, his dark eyes warm and full of affection.

“go sit down,” you finally said, trying to suppress a smile as you motioned to his chair. “you’ve got a show to get ready for.”

“yes ma’am,” riki said with a mock salute before plopping into his chair. the other members exchanged knowing smirks but didn’t say anything, accustomed to their maknaes antics when it came to you.

you approached him with your makeup kit, your expression shifting to one of focus. you grabbed a primer and started dabbing it onto his skin. riki leaned back obediently, watching you the entire time. his eyes followed every move you made—how you tilted your head slightly while working on his foundation, the way your lips pressed together as you concentrated.

“stop staring,” you said without looking up, your voice tinged with amusement. “i can’t help it,” riki replied, a grin tugging at his lips. “you’re too pretty when you’re in your element.”

“flattery won’t get you out of wearing eyeliner,” you quipped, picking up the next product.

he chuckled, staying quiet for a moment as you traced sharp, precise lines around his eyes. but when you leaned in to work on his lips, he couldn’t sit still anymore.

“riki, baby,” you said, holding his chin to keep him steady, “if you don’t stop moving, you’re going to look like a mess out there and i’ll let the fans blame you.”

riki grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “would it really be so bad? they might think the smudges are part of my charm.”

“charm doesn’t cover uneven eyeliner or faded lip tint,” you muttered, dipping the brush back into the product. you leaned closer, focusing on his lips. “well,” he said, voice dropping a bit deeper than before, “if it’s my lips you’re worried about, maybe you should test them.”

“riki,” you warned, but your cheeks flushed at his teasing tone. in response, he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, leaving a faint mark of coral lip tint behind. “there, a little something just for you.”

you froze, your brush midair, and fixed him with an exasperated glare. “riki! you’ve ruined it again, that’s the third time!” he laughed, utterly unrepentant. “what can i say? your face is more fun to decorate than mine.”

“you’re impossible,” you muttered, grabbing a makeup wipe to start over. “at this rate, you’re going on stage with bare lips.”

“then the fans will get the real me,” he said with a playful shrug.

“no, the fans will get a makeup artist who quits her job halfway through the tour because of you,” you shot back, though your lips twitched in amusement.

as you leaned in again, riki stared at you with unabashed affection, making no effort to hide how enamored he was. the way your brows furrowed in concentration, the way you bit your lip when you worked—it all made his heart race.

“riki, stop looking at me like that,” you murmured without glancing up.

“like what?”

“like you’re about to—”

before you could finish, he closed the distance between you two and kissed you square on the lips. it was soft but lingering, enough to make you forget for a moment that you guys were backstage, mere minutes before showtime. when he pulled back, your carefully applied lip tint was smeared, and his own lips were a mess.

“—do that,” you finished, blinking at him.

he grinned, completely unbothered. “you make it hard to resist, baby.” you sighed dramatically, though your cheeks were pink. “i give up. you’re going on stage like this.”

“no, no, no,” he said quickly, laughing. “i’ll behave this time, i swear.” you arched an eyebrow. “you said that five kisses ago.”

“this time, i mean it,” he said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands in mock innocence. “scout’s honor.”

the other members started laughing. jake smirked at riki from his chair. “you’ve got it bad, riki.”

“jealous?” riki shot back, unbothered by the teasing.

you sighed, rolling your eyes but smiling as you reached for the lip tint again, applying it with quick, practiced strokes. riki stayed still this time, though you could feel his eyes on you the entire time. “there,” you said at last, stepping back to inspect your work. “you’re ready.”

“perfect,” he said, glancing at himself in the mirror. then he turned to you with a cheeky smile. “almost as perfect as you.”

“flattery won’t save you if you mess it up again,” you warned, though you couldn’t help but smile. a knock on the door interrupted them and the groups manager poked their head in. “you guys are on in five.”

“got it!” riki called, standing up. he looked down at you, his expression softening. “wish me luck?”

“break a leg,” you said with a small smile, your voice gentler now. “and please don’t kiss anyone on stage.” he chuckled. “you know my lips are only yours.”

with a wink, he was gone, leaving you to clean up your station. you could hear the deafening roar of the crowd as the show began and a small smile tugged at your lips. as exasperating as he could be, there was no denying how proud you were of him.

hours later, the concert was in full swing. you watched from backstage, your heart swelling with pride as riki belted out the final dance moves of their song. his moves effortless and smooth, his stage presence captivating as always. by now, he and the other members took their final bows and headed offstage.

riki burst into the dressing room, still glowing with the adrenaline of the performance. his hair was damp with sweat, his shirt clinging to him, and he looked every bit of the star he was.

“y/nnn,” he called, his voice still slightly hoarse. he scanned the room until his eyes found you and his face lit up. without hesitation, he strode over, pulling you into a tight hug.

“riki, you’re all sweaty!” you protested, laughing as you tried to push him away.

“and i missed you,” he said smiling, grabbing your chin, turning you to face him, and leaning in without hesitation to kiss you before you could respond. his lips still tinted faintly with the remnants of his stage makeup. when he pulled back, your own lips bore the faint coral hue.

“you just kissed off the last bit of your lip tint,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. “good,” riki said, his grin boyish and unrepentant. “it belongs on you anyway.”

their moment was interrupted by the other members filing into the room. jake let out a low whistle, grinning as he pointed at the couple. “you really can’t keep your lips off her, huh?”

“you’re gonna wear her out before the next show,” joked jungwon. riki rolled his eyes but kept his arm firmly around your waist. “jealousy isn’t a good look on you guys.”

“sure, sure,” jake said with a laugh. “just try not to kiss off her patience, too.” you shook your head smiling, “too late for that.”

riki leans down to kiss your lips again and looked into your eyes, ignoring the teasing entirely. “lucky for me, she loves me anyway.”

“unfortunately for me,” you muttered, though the warmth in your smile gave you away.

⋆｡°✩ @miukidoll @flufflights

[minniesfiles]

TIARAS AND TUTUS

Kim Mingyu would do anything for his little girl. Even if it meant embarrassing himself in front of the entire kindergarten.

❧ PAIRING; mingyu x reader

❧ GENRE; fluff

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; established relationship, (girl) dad mingyu, pure fluff, drabble

❧ WORDCOUNT; 1.2k

𐚁₊⊹

▍20 MAY 2029

Mingyu never imagined that at thirty-two years old, he’d find himself standing in a crowded kindergarten classroom wearing a pink tutu and a plastic tiara. Yet here he was, adjusting the waistband of the fluffy skirt while you tried to contain your laughter behind your phone’s camera.

“Gyu, oh my god— I can’t,” you wheezed as you snapped another picture. “You look adorable.”

Mingyu shot you a glare, his face already burning with embarrassment. “I don’t know why you’re laughing. You made me do this.”

“You agreed to this,” you corrected him with a grin.

“For Minji,” he huffed and then looked down at your four-year-old daughter.

Minji, completely unfazed by the ridiculousness of the situation, twirled gracefully in her matching pink tutu. Her tiny crown, slightly crooked on her head, added to her charm as she beamed up at him with excitement. “Daddy, we look like real ballerinas!”

Mingyu sighed, his heart melting despite his efforts to remain composed. “Yes princess, we certainly do.”

The kindergarten was organising a Father’s Day celebration, and for some inexplicable reason — one Mingyu would never comprehend — the teachers had chosen a father-daughter ballet performance as the perfect bonding activity.

When Minji first handed him the invitation, he couldn’t help but laugh, mistaking it for some kind of joke. However, upon looking into her big, eager eyes, he realised that he couldn’t exactly say no.

“Will you dance with me Daddy?” she asked, and denying her request was simply not an option.

He had convinced himself that it wouldn’t be too bad. Perhaps they’d simply wave their arms a bit and call it a day. However, when he arrived at the school and saw a row of frilly pink tutus hanging on the classroom wall, his stomach dropped.

Now, standing in the middle of the classroom with his tutu barely covering his hips, he realised just how deeply he had underestimated the situation.

It wasn’t just him (thankfully) — every father in the room was dressed identically. However, none of them stood out as much as he did.

Mingyu, standing at six feet two inches tall, was easily the tallest person in the room. The other dads were of average height, which made it easy for them to blend into the crowd. However, Mingyu stood out like a giant who had been dropped into a sea of tiny fathers and daughters dressed in tutus.

And now, in just a few minutes, he was going to have to dance on stage. He ran a hand down his face. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“You’ll be fine,” you assured him between giggles. “Just embrace it.”

Mingyu groaned, but before he could express his annoyance further, a small hand grasped his. He peered down to see Minji gazing up at him with big, round eyes.

“Daddy, are you okay?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Of course sweetheart,” he forced a smile.

“But you look nervous,” she frowned.

Mingyu hesitated. He didn’t want to ruin this for her, but the idea of being the tallest, most awkward ballerina on stage was making his stomach twist in knots.

Minji suddenly took both of his hands in hers. “Daddy, you don’t have to be scared. You’re the best dancer ever!”

Mingyu snorted. “I don’t know about that princess.”

“Yes, you are!” she insisted. “And even if you mess up, it’s okay because we’re doing it together!”

Mingyu’s heart fluttered in awe. How was it possible for such a small human to be so wise? He crouched down, meeting her gaze. “You really think so?”

Minji nodded firmly. “Uh-huh! And also, if you dance funny, Mummy said she’ll love you even more.”

From behind them, you burst into laughter. Mingyu groaned in annoyance but couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Of course she did.”

Just then, the teacher clapped her hands to gain everyone’s attention. “Alright daddies and daughters! It’s time to line up for our performance. Remember, the main objective is to have fun, so don’t worry about being perfect!”

Mingyu took a deep breath and stood up, allowing Minji to drag him towards the stage. The other fathers shuffled nervously beside him, some adjusting their tiaras, while others looked around as if they’re searching for an escape route.

The curtains were drawn back, revealing a small stage decorated with pastel pink and white ribbons. The audience, predominantly mothers, younger siblings, and teachers, watched with amused expressions while holding cameras to capture the moment.

The lights dimmed slightly as soft, whimsical music started to play. Mingyu swallowed hard as he followed the simple steps they had learned during their brief rehearsal. The movements were basic — twirling, raising arms in an arch, and a little plié — but somehow, performing them in front of an audience while wearing a tutu made it ten times more challenging.

He spotted you in the crowd with your phone raised as you documented every embarrassing moment of your husband as well as your daughter’s. He was certain that he was going to hear about this for years.

But then, he looked down at Minji, whose face was radiant with nothing but joy. She giggled as she twirled beside him, holding his hand so tightly that it seemed to anchor him. She wasn’t embarrassed. She wasn’t worried about how silly they looked. All she felt was happiness.

And suddenly, Mingyu no longer cared.

So what if he was a six-foot-two man in a tutu? So what if he looked absolutely ridiculous? His daughter was happy, and that was all that mattered.

His movements became more fluid and confident. He gracefully lifted his arms, exaggerating his spins just to hear Minji’s laughter. When he noticed another dad struggling to keep the rhythm, he gave him a reassuring nod. Because they were all in this together.

By the end of the performance, Mingyu spun Minji in the air one final time, earning loud cheers and claps from the audience. The teacher applauded in response, and the little girls all curtsied, while the fathers bowed (some more dramatically than others).

As they walked offstage, Minji beamed up at him. “See? You are the best dancer ever Daddy!”

Mingyu smiled and bent down to kiss her tiny forehead. “Only because I had the best partner.”

You approached them with your grin still plastered on your face as you held up your phone. “I managed to capture the entire thing, and I’m sending it to Wonwoo and the others.”

Mingyu groaned. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Nope,” you smirked.

Your husband sighed dramatically, but when Minji hugged him tightly, all his embarrassment vanished. After all, nothing was more important than making his little girl smile.

╴╴╴╴╴

Later that night, after putting Minji to sleep, Mingyu sat on the sofa scrolling through his phone. When a notification suddenly appeared on the screen.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

[13 losers]

Wonwoo: Tell me why my timeline is full of a six-foot-two ballerina?

Soonyoung: YOU WERE AMAZING MINGYU-SSI. TEARS IN MY EYES.

Jeonghan: You’re my hero. I’m making this my profile picture.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Mingyu let out a groan and tossed his phone onto the soft. You, seated beside him with a smug grin, rested your head on his shoulder. “So…do you regret it?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No,” he admitted. “But I’m banning you from using your phone during school events.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I can’t make any promises.”

And despite his embarrassment, Mingyu couldn’t help but smile. Because at the end of the day, he would wear a thousand tutus if it meant making Minji happy.

[luvrg1rl2]

after concert w/ ni-ki

・❥・ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: you x bf idol ni-ki

・❥・𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: kissing, sfw, slighty suggestive

・❥・ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you meet your bf riki after a concert <3

・❥・ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

pls leave requests <3

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡

watching your handsome boyfriend dance and perform on stage was one of the greatest feelings ever. you were so proud and happy for him, he was living his dreams of being one of the most talented dancers with his six best friends he loved and looked up to. you were still in awe of him, despite you growing up by his side, watching him grow as a dancer ever since you two were three years old. he was such an amazing dancer and singer, how did you ever end up getting to be his lucky girlfriend? you would be slightly jealous of all the engenes screaming his name, but you knew by the end of the night you would be the one wrapped up in his arms, underneath the blankets, as his quiet, low voice sang you your favorite song. not anyone else. he was yours and you were his. your riki.

the concert ended, the boys waving to engenes for the final time, and you eventually were able to find your way backstage. you had been to a couple of their concerts before. but that was before you and riki had made it official. the other six guys have known you basically ever sense they knew riki. he always talked about you, his best friend from back home, and facetimed you just as much as he talked to his own mom. it was always obvious you two liked each other, like really liked each other. but you didn’t realize riki felt the same way until the day it did become official, almost a year ago now, and riki didn’t know how you felt until jake and jay basically told him how oblivious he was to your flirting. so, technically, jake was the one who got riki to finally “be a man” and “ask you out”- but you’ve loved each other ever sense you could remember.

now that all the members, and even the staff, knew about you and riki’s young, teenage romance, your heart was beating out of your chest in excitement knowing you could kiss him as soon as you opened that backstage door. and of course, the whole experience was even sweeter than you imagined.

you opened the door and saw riki sitting down on the couch, no phone in hand nor no jake (whose usually by his side) in sight, meaning he was simply waiting for you. the thought still made your heart flutter. his boba eyes brightened up as he saw you enter, beaming with pride and happiness to see you.

“you did so amazing riki!” you practically scream. riki quickly shoots up and trots over and gives you a big hug, his warm body encapsulating yours bringing the nicest feeling ever. you sink into his hug, and smile. he was so easy to hug. you could never let go, until he pulled away and cupped your blushed cheeks.

“thanks, y/n.” he said calmly. he stared so deeply into your eyes, looking at you like you were more important than anything to him; than engene, the members, dance… well maybe not dance. but you were damn important. and just by the look in his eyes, it was obviously so. he smiles softly before pulling you into a kiss.

you honestly never got over the way he kisses you. so passionate and full of love for you. so confident and full of desperation, but not the typical “teenage boy horny desperate”…at least for right now. his plush lips felt so soft against your own. his gentle hands went to your hair, and your own hands wrapped around his broad shoulders. you almost forgot where you were. and he kissed you so hard you almost forgot about how happy you were for him; the compliments you were going to shower him with, the praise for his dancing skills, all of it seemed to go out the back door of your brain. his hands travelled down your arms, leaving your brain only filled with thoughts of ditching all the post-concert stuff and having riki lie you down on your bed and never stop kissing you.

riki pulled away, “you liked the show?”

you seemed to snap back to your senses, “you were amazing. and i guess the other guys too.” you say sarcastically. “but seeing other people cheer your name and love you, riki, it’s so cool. i’m so proud.”

you could tell riki tried to hide the blush that spread across his cheeks. “yeah, yeah. whatever. i’m glad you think i’m cool and all, y/n.”

he quickly grabbed your wrists and pulled you closer to him, kissing you just as intensely as before, his hands traveling up your arms and to your face. your arms wrapped around his shoulders as…

“EW! guys…” said jake, you spotting his warm, australian accent even without seeing who spoke.

riki pulled away from you and gave jake a blank stare. “dude, your just jealous your girlfriend doesn’t bother to come to our shows.”

you can’t help but laugh in response. riki has always been a sassy guy, but not like how he is now.

“damn, your going to let our little maknae talk to you like that?” you heard jay speak as he also walked into the room.

jake giggles as the two boys went to go sit on the couch. riki pulls your hand softly and gives you his boxy smile as he looks back at you, guiding you to sit on the couch opposite of them. after concerts they had a couple minutes to themselves, usually jake and riki going right to whatever video game their both playing. but today riki sat you down next to him. he was more quiet now then he used to be when we were younger, and you could tell the times when he just wanted to be with you and not really speak. you thought riki would nonchalantly put his shoulder around you and subtly cuddle with you for a few moments. but instead he did something so endearing, something you never would’ve thought he would done outside of your guys bedroom, especially in front of his “boys.” riki softly laid his head on your lap and looked up at you with the cutest expression in the world. his eyes held so much love in them before he closed them, basically saying he was taking a cat nap right there on your lap. you softly bring your hands to his hair and play with the long, black strands. he smiles timidly and exhales. he could fall asleep anywhere, as long as he were in your arms.

・❥・ notes: hi!!! i hope u enjoyed, this was my first fanfic so pls don’t judge lol + PLS LEAVE ANY REQUESTS IN MY ASKS I WOULD LUV TO DO SOME 🫶🏻

[flux1563]

THE BEST PARTY

Tags : a lot of squirting, gangbang, anal, holden shower

*my first story, so sorry if unperfect

Chaewon chuckled, a sound that was both comforting and predatory. "Why not? You're an adult, aren't you? It's time to live a little." She sauntered over to a table laden with unmarked bottles and gleaming syringes. Her movements were fluid, like a dancer performing an intimate routine, and she exuded a confidence that was both alluring and slightly intimidating.

Minju took a deep breath, trying to ignore the racing thoughts in her head. The plan was unlike anything she had ever done before. It was wild, risky, and utterly exhilarating. But as she watched Chaewon's skilled hands mix the contents of the bottles, she couldn't shake the feeling that she might be in over her head.

The door creaked open, and six figures filed in, their faces obscured by shadowy masks. They looked more like guests at a masquerade ball than participants in an underground celebration. Chaewon greeted them with a smile that could have melted steel, her eyes lighting up like a cat who had just caught a canary. "Welcome, gentlemen," she purred. "Allow me to introduce your entertainment for the evening."

With a dramatic flourish, Chaewon presented Minju, who felt a blush creep up her neck. The men's eyes raked over her, and she tried to hold her ground, but the weight of their gazes was like a physical force. They were all tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in sleek suits that whispered of wealth and power. And they were all looking at her with an intensity that made her knees wobble.

"Now," Chaewon announced, "let's get this party started."

Minju nodded, a thrill of excitement running through her veins. "What's the plan?"

"Simple," Chaewon said, her voice a seductive purr. "Today, it's going to be a different kind of celebration. Just six guys, and I'll be here to make sure you have the best time."

Minju felt a thrill at her words, her body already responding with a familiar ache. She watched as Chaewon stood and walked over to the first man, the one who had first claimed her mouth the night before. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers, and she could see the hunger in them. Chaewon leaned in, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was anything but chaste. It was a kiss that spoke of need and desire, of a connection that went beyond friendship.

The second man didn't waste a moment, his hands sliding around Minju's waist, pulling her closer to him. His kiss was harder, more demanding, his tongue dueling with hers as if he was fighting for dominance. She could feel his cock pressing against her stomach, eager to claim her once more. The third man knelt before her, his eyes locked with hers as he began to kiss his way down her body, his lips trailing a path of fire across her skin.

"Get down on your knees," the first man said, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine. She hesitated for a moment, the command making her pulse race. But then she obeyed, her legs giving out beneath her. The cool marble floor was a stark contrast to the heat of her body, and she felt a strange sense of power in her submission.

Minju wrapped her lips around the first man's cock, her eyes locked with Chaewon's. Her best friend was already on her knees before the second man, her mouth open wide as she took him in. The sight of her friend, so usually composed and in control, in this submissive position was both shocking and incredibly arousing. She watched as Chaewon's cheeks hollowed with each bob of her head, her eyes fluttering shut as she took him deeper and deeper.

The fourth and third men took their places beside Minju, each taking one of her hands in theirs. "Show us how eager you are," they murmured, guiding her to wrap her fingers around their throbbing cocks. The sensation of two more cocks in her grip was overwhelming, but she didn't protest. Instead, she began to stroke them in time with the rhythm set by the first man's hips, feeling the velvety skin slide beneath her palms.

The fifth and sixth men stepped closer, their eyes raking over her body with a hunger that made her tremble. They reached out, each taking one of her breasts in their hands, and began to squeeze and knead them roughly. The sensation was almost painful, but it only added to the delicious tension building inside her. Her nipples hardened, poking out from her chest, begging for attention.

The men watched her intently, their cocks jerking in her hands and her mouth as she worked them. The first two men groaned in unison, their pleasure palpable as they thrust into her eagerly. Chaewon's muffled sounds of pleasure echoed around the room, spurring Minju on to suck harder, to stroke faster. She could feel their precum leaking onto her tongue, the salty taste making her crave more.

The first and second man's grip tightened in minju and chaewon hair as he started to fuck her mouth, his hips moving faster and faster. She could feel the tension building in his body, his cock swelling even more in her mouth.

"Fuck, you're going to make me cum," he grunted, his breath hot against her face.

Minju felt the pressure in her mouth build, the man's cock thickening with each thrust. His grip on her hair tightened, guiding her movements. "Yes," she moaned around his cock, the word vibrating along his shaft. Chaewon watched from the side, her own eyes glazed with arousal as she took the second man's cock in her mouth, matching Minju's rhythm stroke for stroke.

Suddenly, the first man's body tensed, his hips jerking as he climaxed. "I'm coming so much," he groaned, and then his cock erupted, filling Minju's throat with a hot, thick flood of cum. She gagged and choked, her eyes watering as she desperately swallowed, trying to accommodate the deluge. "Glukk... glukkk," she heard the sound of his semen spurting into her, the wetness of it escaping from the corners of her mouth and down her chin.

Simultaneously, the man in Chaewon's mouth reached his peak, his cock pulsing as he unleashed his own load. Chaewon's eyes widened, her throat working overtime as she attempted to swallow every drop. Some of it dribbled out, staining the marble floor a pale white. The sight of her best friend's struggles only served to excite Minju further, making her want to do better, to take everything they had to give.

The two men who had been watching, stroking their own erections, stepped forward eagerly. "It's our turn now," one of them said, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he positioned himself between Minju's legs. He gripped his cock, the head slick with pre-cum, and lined it up with her gaping pussy. "Ready to get wrecked?"

Minju could only nod, her body already responding to the promise of more pleasure. As he pushed into her, she felt her walls stretch and clench around his thickness, her eyes rolling back in her head as she moaned. He didn't hold back, pounding into her with a ferocity that made the first few men seem gentle by comparison.

"Oh fuck," she gasped, her voice high and keening. "You're so big... oh, yes, like that, just like that."

The man in her pussy grunted his approval, his strokes growing more demanding. He was thick and long, stretching her to the limits of pleasure. She could feel his cock hit her cervix with every thrust, the sensation so intense it bordered on pain. But it was a good pain, a pain that made her toes curl and her eyes roll back in her head.

At the same time, the man behind her took position, his cock nudging at her tight, unprepared hole. She tensed for a moment, the anticipation making her breath hitch. But then she relaxed, her body welcoming the new intrusion. "Oh yes," she moaned, her voice thick with desire. "Fuck my ass like there's no tomorrow."

He didn't need any more encouragement. With a single, powerful thrust, he pushed inside her, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the quiet room. Minju's eyes rolled back in her head, and she couldn't hold back the scream that ripped from her throat. The pain was intense, but it was quickly overridden by the pleasure that followed.

"Wow, you really are a slut for BBC, aren't you?" Chaewon said, her voice filled with a mix of amazement and amusement. "You can't think of anything except big black cock, can you?"

Minju could only moan in response, the words lost to the haze of pleasure clouding her mind. The man fucking her pussy had hit just the right spot, sending waves of ecstasy crashing over her. Each thrust was a declaration of ownership, a claiming of her body that she couldn't deny. Her eyes remained locked on Chaewon, her best friend's gaze both grounding her in the present and pushing her further into the depths of depravity.

"Yess, this cock is so big and stretches me so well," she managed to murmur, the words forced out between gasps. Chaewon's smile grew wider.

The two men who had been waiting their turn didn't waste any more time. One of them grabbed Chaewon by the hips, spinning her around so that she was facing away from Minju. He didn't bother with any preamble, pushing the tip of his cock against her tightly puckered asshole and sliding in without mercy. Chaewon's eyes watered with pain, but she bit her lip and took it, her body bouncing back against his with each powerful thrust.

The second man stepped up, his cock jutting out like a weapon ready to conquer. He didn't bother with gentle caresses or sweet nothings—instead, he plunged into her pussy with the same ferocity as his companion. Chaewon's body was stretched to the limits, sandwiched between them as they used her simultaneously. She gripped the marble counter, her knuckles white with the effort of holding on, her eyes never leaving Minju's.

"Ahh, so tight," he grunted, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and greed. "You two really know how to pick 'em."

Chaewon's eyes watered with pain as she nodded. "Yeah," she gritted out, "she's a virgin there." Despite her words, the pleasure was evident in her voice, a deep, carnivorous hunger that matched the men's own.

Minju watched as her friend was used, her own arousal reaching a fever pitch. She couldn't believe the transformation in Chaewon, the way she had given herself over to the experience. It was intoxicating, watching her best friend lose herself in the moment, just as she had done the night before.

"Ahh, I can't think, please stop," Chaewon moaned, her body convulsing with each thrust from behind. But it was clear she didn't mean it. Her words were a plea for more, a demand for the men to push her further. The man in her ass chuckled, his strokes growing more forceful. "You love it, don't you?" he said, his voice deep and mocking.

"Y-yes," Chaewon gasped, her body betraying her as she pushed back against him, her pussy clenching around the cock inside her. "Don't stop. Please, don't ever stop."

Her words were barely coherent, lost in the symphony of pleasure that consumed her. Minju watched, her own arousal spiking at the sight of Chaewon's submission. Her pussy clenched around the man's cock, and she felt her orgasm building, a crescendo of sensation that washed over her like a tidal wave. The man in her ass hit a particularly sensitive spot, and she couldn't help but scream, her body arching off the marble counter.

"Oh god, I think I'm going to come," Chaewon whispered, her eyes wide and unfocused.

The men took this as their cue to redouble their efforts, driving into the two women with a frenzy that was almost animalistic. Minju felt her own climax building, her body tightening around the cocks filling her. The man in her pussy hit a spot that sent stars shooting through her vision, and she couldn't hold back any longer

Chaewon and minju orgasm hit her like a sledgehammer, her body convulsing as she squirted all over the marble floor. The sensation was so intense she thought she might pass out, the force of it making her muscles spasm uncontrollably.

But the men didn't stop. They just chuckled, their strokes unrelenting. "We didn't cum yet," one of them said, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "And we're not going anywhere until we do."

The two men in her began to pick up their pace, their movements growing more erratic as they approached their own climaxes. Minju felt her orgasm subside, only to be replaced by a new, building wave of pleasure. Her pussy clenched around the cock inside her, desperate for more, for the release she hadn't quite reached. Chaewon's moans grew louder, her body writhing with pleasure as she was pounded from both ends.

"Fuck, I'm coming again," Minju screamed, the words tearing from her throat. The man in her ass grunted his approval, his strokes growing more erratic as he neared his own peak.

Chaewon's voice joined hers, a desperate wail of pleasure as she too reached climax. "Together, baby," the man fucking her pussy grunted, his hips slapping against her ass. "I want to cum with you."

The two men in Chaewon didn't need any more encouragement. They pounded into her with renewed vigor, their cocks thick and demanding as they claimed her in a display of pure, raw power. She could feel the tension in their bodies, their muscles tensing as they approached their own peak.

Minju and chaewon felt the man in her pussy and ass swell even further, his grip on her hips tightening as he neared climax. She braced herself for the onslaught, her body already primed for the explosion of pleasure she knew was coming.

And then, it hit them both. With a roar, the man pulled out of Chaewon's ass, his cum spurting out in a hot, sticky arc that splattered against the wall. At the same time, the man in her pussy reached his peak, filling her with his seed. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that made the two women scream in unison.

Minju felt her own orgasm crash over her, more intense than any she had ever experienced. Her body shook uncontrollably, her muscles clenching around the cocks inside her. She squirted, her juices mixing with the cum that was already leaking out of her, soaking the marble counter beneath her.

Chaewon's eyes rolled back in her head as the men finally pulled out, their cocks glistening with the evidence of their conquest. She collapsed onto the floor, her legs giving out beneath her. Minju watched as cum dribbled out of her friend's abused holes, painting the floor with their shared passion.

The men didn't miss a beat, their semi-erect cocks already starting to thicken again at the sight of the two women's exhausted forms. One by one, they lined up, their cocks bobbing with excitement as they prepared to shower Chaewon and Minju with their golden rain.

The first man stepped up, his cock still partially hard. He aimed it at Chaewon's face, a smug smile playing on his lips as he began to piss. The warm, golden stream hit her cheek, sliding down to her chin and dripping onto her chest. She flinched but didn't move, the humiliation written clearly in her eyes.

Minju felt a strange mix of emotions as she watched—disgust, arousal, and a perverse sense of pride. This was what she had become, a plaything for these men to use and discard. And yet, she couldn't deny that she had never felt more alive.

The second and third men took their positions, their cocks already hardening again as they took turns urinating on Chaewon's prone body. She gagged as some of the urine went into her mouth, but she didn't protest. Instead, she swallowed, her throat working to keep up with the steady flow.

The fourth and fifth men focused on Minju, their streams hitting her in the face, her hair, her breasts. The sting of the piss on her skin was surprisingly erotic, making her nipples peak and her pussy throb with need.

The sixth man, the one who had fucked Chaewon's ass, stepped back. He admired his handiwork, the two friends soaked in a mix of cum and piss, their bodies trembling with exhaustion and pleasure. "Your turn," he said to the others, gesturing to Minju.

The first man stepped closer to Chaewon, his cock still half-hard as he leaned over her, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. He aimed his cock at her chest, letting a thin stream of piss arc out and splatter against her breasts. She gasped, her body jolting with a mix of revulsion and arousal. The warm liquid ran down her body, mingling with the cum that was already there, creating a sticky, humiliating mess.

The second man approached Minju, his cock pointing at her face like a gun. He smirked as he began to urinate, the stream hitting her cheek and running down her neck. She flinched at first, the sensation foreign and degrading. But as the warmth spread, she found herself leaning into it, her tongue flicking out to catch the salty drops. The taste was surprisingly erotic, a reminder of the power dynamic that had been established in the bathroom the night before.

The third and fourth men took turns dousing them, their piss raining down like a perverse shower, soaking their hair and stinging their eyes. Minju and Chaewon were reduced to whimpering, writhing masses of pleasure and pain, their bodies responding to the humiliation in ways they never could have imagined. The fifth man stepped closer, his cock aimed at Minju's open, eager mouth.

"Swallow," he commanded, his voice low and demanding. She did as she was told, feeling the hot liquid fill her mouth and throat.

"I can't take it anymore," Chaewon groaned, her voice thick with a mix of pleasure and pain. She looked up at Minju, her eyes pleading for release from the relentless assault. Minju stared back, her own body a canvas of cum and piss, her eyes gleaming with an intensity that took Chaewon's breath away.

"Seriously?" Minju asked, her voice a hoarse whisper. "You bring me to this moment of pure ecstasy and you expect me to give up now?"

Chaewon's eyes searched Minju's, a mix of surprise and amusement playing on her face. "I didn't bring you here to watch," she said, her own voice thick with arousal. "I brought you here to experience."

The first two men who had stepped back stood up again, their cocks now fully erect. They approached Chaewon, who was still on her knees, panting and covered in cum. "You can take it, Chaewon," one of them said, his voice a mix of reassurance and challenge. "Just push yourself a little bit more."

The first man grabbed her by the shoulders, his grip firm but not painful. "Get on all fours," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. Chaewon and minju complied, they movements sluggish but determined. They knew what they wanted, and a part of her craved it—the feeling of being used, of being nothing more than a receptacle for their pleasure.

The two men who had been watching, stroking their cocks with a mix of anticipation and hunger, stepped closer. They didn't bother with gentle touches or sweet whispers—instead, they simply thrust into them, one in each pussy, filling them to the brim with their thick, pulsing erections. Chaewon gasped as the man entered her, his girth stretching her more than she ever thought possible. Minju's eyes went wide as she felt the pressure of cock in her own pussy, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.

"Fuck, after all your pussy is so tight," the man in Minju murmured, his voice thick with lust. She moaned around the mouthful of cock, the words resonating through her body like a bass drop in a dance track. She could feel her walls clench around him, trying to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

"Yeah, Chaewon's pussy is tight too," the other man said.

Chaewon's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt the man's cock stretching her to her limits. She was so full, so used, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded. "Your... cock... is so big," she panted, her voice barely a whisper. "It's... ahh... so good."

The man in her pussy chuckled, his strokes growing more confident as he heard her words. "Yeah, it's like you were made for this," he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "A perfect little slut for us to use."

Minju's cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and arousal at the label, but she couldn't deny the truth of it. Her body was responding to him in a way she had never experienced before, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through her core. She felt her pussy clench around his cock, eager for more of the delicious friction that was driving her insane. "Nine... inches...," she moaned, her voice trailing off as she struggled to form coherent thoughts.

The man in her pussy grunted, his strokes growing more powerful as he approached his own climax. "You're going to take it all, aren't you?" he demanded, his voice filled with the confidence of a man who knew he was giving her the ride of her life. Minju nodded, her eyes glazed with lust as she felt his cock hit her deepest spot, sending her spiraling towards the edge of another mind-shattering orgasm.

"I think I'm gonna squirt again," Chaewon murmured, her voice barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Minju nodded in agreement.

"Squirt for us, then," one of the men holding her said, a sadistic grin playing on his lips. "Show us how much you love being a cumslut."

And just like that, the men inside her pulled out, allowing Minju and Chaewon a moment to catch their breath.

"Ahh, it's coming," Minju whispered, her voice tight with anticipation. Her body felt like it was on the verge of exploding, the pressure in her pussy almost unbearable. Chaewon nodded, her own breaths coming in ragged gasps.

And then it happened. With a sound that was half scream, half moan, a torrent of cum gushed from Chaewon's pussy, a gallon of hot, sticky liquid that painted the floor in a glistening arc. The men who had been pounding into her only moments ago stepped back, watching in amazement as the evidence of their pleasure spurted out of her, a testament to the intensity of their encounter.

Minju felt her own orgasm building, her body responding to the sight of Chaewon's release. "Ahh... it's coming," she gasped, her own pussy contracting around the cock inside her.

The men's amazement grew as Minju's body began to spasm, her squirt soaking the floor beneath her. "Wow, after all this time, you can still squirt," one of them murmured, his eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and excitement.

The men who had just been watching stepped forward eagerly, their cocks hard and demanding. One by one, they took their places, lining up to fuck the two women like they were at a buffet.

"Yeah, spank my ass, please," Minju begged, her voice a mix of need and desperation. "Punish me for being such a slut."

The man holding her hips took her words as a challenge, his hand rearing back before connecting with a resounding crack against her ass cheek. Minju yelped, the sting mixing with the pleasure that was already overwhelming her senses. Chaewon nodded in silent agreement, her own desire for pain and pleasure a mirror to Minju's.

Another smack echoed through the room, this time aimed at Chaewon's round, reddened cheeks. She gritted her teeth, her eyes squeezing shut as she took it, her pussy clenching around the cock inside her. "More," she gasped, her voice a needy whine that seemed to drive the men wild.

The man holding her hips took her words as a challenge, his hand coming down with a series of stinging slaps that had her crying out in pleasure. Each blow sent waves of sensation through her, her orgasm building with a ferocity she hadn't thought possible. "I think I'm gonna cum in your pussy, baby," he grunted, his strokes growing more erratic.

Minju could feel her climax approaching, the pressure in her pussy so intense she thought she might burst. "Please," she begged, her voice desperate. "Just let it out. Fill me up."

The man didn't need any more encouragement. With a final, brutal thrust, he released his load deep inside her, his cum mixing with the mess already there. Chaewon watched, her own pussy clenching with need as she heard the wet, gushing sound of his release. "Yeahh fill my pussy too," she said, her voice a low, hungry growl.

Chaewon felt the warmth spread through her, the sensation of being filled so completely sending her over the edge.

The men pulled out of them, their cocks glistening with the evidence of their pleasure. Chaewon and Minju collapsed to the floor, their bodies trembling with exhaustion. Sperm spurted out of their abused pussies, forming a pool on the cold, tiles that made them both shiver. They lay there, panting, their eyes locked on the men who had just used them so thoroughly.

As the seconds ticked by, something strange began to happen. Minju felt the familiar warmth building in her belly again, the beginnings of another orgasm that she hadn't even realized she had the capacity for. Her pussy clenched and spasmed, and suddenly she was squirting again, the liquid shooting out of her with a force that made her gasp.

"Oh fuck, here it comes," she whimpered, her body responding to the intense pleasure that the men were giving her. Chaewon watched, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and envy. She had never seen anyone squirt like that before, let alone experienced it herself.

But the night wasn't over yet. The man who had been fucking Minju pulled out, his cock slick with cum. He stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers as he took aim. "Open your mouth," he ordered, his voice thick with desire.

Minju did as she was told, her lips parting slightly. The warm stream of his piss hit her face, mixing with the cum and sweat that already covered her. She felt the urine fill her mouth, the salty taste of it mingling with the bitterness of the cum. She swallowed, her eyes never leaving his, the power dynamic of the situation making her pussy throb with need.

The other men watched, their cocks already hard again as they took in the sight of the two women, used and abused, yet still begging for more. "We're not done with you yet," one of them said, a predatory smile crossing his lips. "But first, let's clean up."

The men stepped back, their cocks still erect as they began to piss again, this time aiming for the puddles of cum on the floor. The sound of their urine splattering against the tiles was the only thing that broke the silence in the room. Chaewon and Minju watched, their own bodies still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure.

As the men finished, they turned to leave, their eyes lingering on the two friends. "We'll be back tomorrow," one of them called out over his shoulder. "Rest up. You're going to need it."

The door closed behind them, leaving Minju and Chaewon alone in the bathroom, their bodies a mess of cum and piss. They looked at each other, their eyes glazed with a mix of shock and arousal. "What have we become?" Chaewon whispered, her voice trembling.

Minju reached out and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. "Whatever it is, we're in it together," she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. Despite the depraved scene they had just endured, she felt a strange sense of camaraderie with her friend.

They both stood up slowly, their legs wobbly from the intense pleasure that had just ravaged their bodies. Chaewon took a tentative step towards the shower, her pussy still throbbing with a dull ache. "My pussy was so sore," she murmured, her voice still hoarse from screaming.

"Yeah, me too," Minju agreed, wincing slightly as she took a step. The pain was a stark reminder of the night's events, a delicious reminder of their shared secret.

They stumbled into the shower, their bodies moving in unison despite their exhaustion. The warm water cascaded over them, washing away the sticky remnants of their encounters. They sank to the floor, the tiles cool against their burning skin, and let the spray wash over them. It was a moment of quiet respite before the next wave of pleasure-induced pain hit.

As the water rinsed the cum and piss from their bodies, Minju couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation. The sensation of the water was almost too much, every drop sending a shiver down her spine. But it was also soothing, cleansing her of the guilt and shame that threatened to overwhelm her. Chaewon's eyes met hers, and she knew her friend felt it too.

They leaned into each other, their bodies entwined as the water beat down on them. It was a silent affirmation of their friendship, a bond that had grown stronger through their shared experiences. They had faced the darkness together, and emerged the other side, forever changed.

Their laughter echoed in the steam-filled bathroom, a strange contrast to the raw, primal noises that had filled the room just moments before. They were alive, more alive than they had ever felt, and the pain was a part of that. It was a reminder of their power, of the control they had given up and the new world they had discovered.

Their bodies grew limp, the water running red with the evidence of their night. They had pushed themselves to the brink, and somehow, they had come out the other side. Chaewon leaned her head on Minju's shoulder, her breaths coming in deep, shuddering gasps. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

Minju looked at her, surprised by the earnestness in her eyes. "For what?" she asked, her voice still thick with the aftershocks of pleasure.

"For bringing me here," Chaewon replied. "For showing me that I'm not broken. That I can still feel something."

Minju nodded, understanding all too well. She had invited Chaewon to this party, to this mess, to show her that she wasn't alone in her desires. To prove that she could find pleasure in the most unexpected places. "We're in this together," she said, her voice firm. "Whatever happens next."

They climbed out of the shower, their legs trembling with the effort. They wrapped themselves in the plush bathrobes that hung nearby, the fabric sticking to their sticky skin. They made their way to the bed, the plush comforter beckoning them with the promise of oblivion.

As they lay down, the reality of their situation began to set in. They had been through so much, given so much of themselves. But there was a comfort in the darkness, a comfort in the knowledge that they had each other.

"You're not a bastard," Chaewon murmured, her eyes closing. "You're my friend."

Minju squeezed her hand, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "And you're not just a slut," she replied. "You're my partner in crime."

They fell asleep, their bodies entwined, their hearts beating in sync. The dawn would bring a new day, and with it, the start of their next adventure. But for now, they were content in the aftermath of their decadent night.

The next morning, the sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the rumpled bed and the two women who lay within it. Minju stirred first, her body stiff from the night's exertions. She looked over at Chaewon, who was still sleeping peacefully, her face a mask of contentment.

With a wicked grin, Minju reached for her phone and typed out a message. "I will pay for that party," she wrote, her thumbs moving deftly over the screen. "Maybe a better party with 20 men next time?" She hit send and watched as the message disappeared into the digital ether. She couldn't wait to see the look on Chaewon's face when she read it.

[thighsa]

BEAUTIFUL MONSTER

Artist :

StayC Isa X Male Reader (Third Person POV)

Tags :

Wardrobe Malfunction, Female Masturbation, Masochist Fetish, Kidnap, Forced Sex, Rough Sex, Rape, BDSM, Bondage, Virgin, Anal, Anal Virginity, Gangbang, Double Penetration, Blowjob, Deepthroat, Creampie, Gape, Sex Tape, Blackmail, Drug Usages, Slut, Cam Girl, Sex Slave, Prostitution, Strip Dancer, Golden Shower, Humiliation,

Warning : Non Con Smut, This smut is going to be a long one.

(please don't read if you don't like it, thanks!)

CHAPTER 1 : THE CONCERT OF A RAISING K-POP GROUP

Finding herself standing in the bustling backstage of a colossal concert venue, the air thick with anticipation and the sweet scent of hairspray. Lee Chaeyoung, or as the world knows, Isa, a rising star in the glittering universe of K-Pop as part of the sensational girl group, StayC. With her heart racing in her chest, she look into the mirror and adjust the glittering hairpin in her raven locks, her reflection showcasing her flawless makeup and piercing gaze. Isa run her hands over her curvy hips and give her thick, toned thighs a squeeze, drawing confidence from the power they hold. The sound of the crowd's roar crescendos as the opening chords of her latest hit echo through the corridor. The stage calls, and she takes a deep breath, ready to captivate the world once more with her unparalleled charm and talent. "It's showtime, Isa," her manager says with a nod of encouragement. Isa flash a dazzling smile, feeling the excitement surge through her as she step into the spotlight.

The stage lights hit Isa like a meteor shower, illuminating her scintillating, revealing outfit. The ensemble is a masterpiece of modern fashion K-Pop flair: a crop top that barely contains her ample cleavage, paired with a thick leather jacket as the outerwear, and a skirt that hikes high on her hips, showcasing her voluptuous thighs and perfectly curvy rounded ass. Her long, silky legs seem to go on forever, ending in a pair of thigh-high boots that scream confidence with every step. The crowd goes wild at the sight of her, the sea of faces blurring into a tapestry of admiration and desire.

With the opening beats of the song pulsing through her veins, Isa takes control of the stage like a tempest, her body moving in a symphony of seduction and precision. She's the main dancer, the heart of StayC's choreography, and her every move is calculated to leave the audience breathless. Her hips sway and pop in time with the music, her curvy figure a mesmerizing spectacle under the strobing lights. Her bandmates follow her lead, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine, but it's Isa's fiery charisma that truly sets the stage alight.

The choreography intensifies, and Isa leaps into a high kick, her skirt fluttering up to reveal a hint of the lacey thong she's wearing underneath. The fans scream even louder, their phones raised in a forest of flashing lights, eagerly capturing every moment. Suddenly, as she lands, there's a sharp tug, and the unthinkable happens: the clasp of her top gives way, the fabric parting to expose her right breast to the thousands of eyes in the arena. For a split second, time seems to stand still, the music a distant echo in the face of the impending disaster.

But Isa is a seasoned performer. Without missing a beat, she cups her hand over her breast, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red that only serves to enhance her allure. The crowd's gasps are drowned out by the bass drop, and she spins away from the audience, using the momentum to conceal the wardrobe malfunction. The other members of StayC, caught off guard, exchange worried glances but Isa waves them off, signaling to continue as if nothing happened. Her professionalism is a beacon of calm in the storm of chaos, a testament to her unshakeable poise.

The moment Isa's breast is exposed, a ripple of shock waves through the arena, but it's quickly swallowed by a frenzy of excitement and anticipation. The flashes of cameras and phones are so intense that it's as if a thousand paparazzi have descended upon the stage. The video of her wardrobe malfunction is captured from every conceivable angle, the digital eyes of the audience eager to preserve the scandalous moment for posterity. The videos are uploaded to social media faster than you can blink, spreading like wildfire across various platforms, hashtags springing up like mushrooms in the aftermath of a storm.

While the performance goes on, the malfunction is a mere hiccup in the grand scheme of things. Isa's swift recovery and the sheer force of StayC's stage presence are enough to keep the audience enthralled. The music, the lights, the dance as they all conspire to distract from the brief flash of nudity. The other members of the group, though shaken by the unexpected turn of events, keep their cool, their movements sharp and their expressions composed.

As soon as Isa enters the backstage, the situation is a different story. The second the music stops, a cacophony of worried whispers and frantic gestures replace the organized chaos of pre-show preparations. The manager's eyes widen in horror as they watch the live feed of the performance, their hand slapped over their mouth in disbelief. "Oh no," they murmur, their mind racing with the potential repercussions. "Isa, are you okay?" they ask, rushing towards Isa.

Isa, though still flustered, nods with a forced smile. "It's fine," she says, trying to shrug off the embarrassment that clings to her like the sweat on her skin. "It was just a wardrobe malfunction. It happens." Her voice is steady, but the tremble in her hand as she adjusts her costume gives away her nerves. She quickly gathers her composure, drawing on the iron will that's brought her to the top of the K-Pop world. "We'll just have to make sure it doesn't happen again," she adds with a determined glint in her eye.

The concert ends with a thunderous applause, and as the final notes of the last song die out, Isa is ushered backstage, her heart racing not just from the exhilaration of the performance but also from the fear of what's to come. She quickly locks herself in the waiting room, the sound of the cheering fans a muffled roar behind the thick door. Pulling out her phone, her hands shaking with a mix of excitement and mortification, she opens up various social media apps, her fingers flying across the screen as she searches for any sign of the wardrobe malfunction. It doesn't take long for her to find it a video of her exposed breast has already amassed millions of views and countless comments, both supportive and malicious.

Her heart sinks as she reads through the comments. While there are fans praising her professionalism and others sharing their own stories of similar mishaps, there's also a sea of cruel words, body-shaming, and accusations of it being a publicity stunt. The weight of the negative attention is crushing, a stark reminder of the darker side of the industry she's worked so hard to conquer. She tries to push the negativity aside, focusing instead on the love and support from her devoted fanbase. Yet, the fear of losing everything she's worked for gnaws at her like a ravenous beast.

As she was scrolling at the comments, an advertisement popped up in her phone, Isa's hand trembles with anticipation as she opens the screen fills with a smorgasbord of explicit thumbnails, each one more graphic and enticing than the last. She bites her bottom lip, her pulse racing as she selects a video that promises the depraved thrills.

With the door locked tight and the cacophony of the concert now a distant memory, her hand shakes as she sets it aside, her eyes glazed with a mix of excitement and trepidation. She's never truly allowed herself to explore this side of her sexuality, but something about the raw, unbridled passion within its pages has her craving release. Her hand slides down her torso, her fingertips grazing the smooth skin of her stomach before delving beneath her skirt. The fabric of her thong is damp with anticipation, the fabric clinging to her plump pussy lips as she slides it aside. Her heart hammers in her chest as she touches herself, her virginity a mere technicality in the face of her burning need.

The video starts with a petite Asian girl, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement, surrounded by a group of well-endowed black men. They're all grinning like predators, and Isa can feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she watches. She watches, rapt, as the men in the video begin to touch and kiss the girl, her cries of pleasure growing louder with every passing second. The scene is a whirlwind of flesh and desire, a symphony of lust that resonates deep within Isa's core.

Her clit is swollen and sensitive, begging for attention. With a gasp, she rubs it furiously, her other hand squeezing her full breast, the nipple pebbled with arousal. She's seen the way the men in the videos looked at the bound women, the hunger in their eyes, and she craves that same intense focus. Her imagination runs wild, her hand moving faster as she imagines herself in the girl's place, her thick thighs spread wide and her plump ass jiggling with every rough thrust. The walls of the waiting room seem to close in around her, the pressure building with every stroke. The room is filled with the sweet sound of her moans, each one louder and more desperate than the last.

Her breathing quickens, her chest heaving as she watches the men take turns with the girl, her small frame seemingly incapable of containing the sheer size of their cocks. The sight of it all is almost too much, and yet she can't tear her eyes away. Her own hand is a blur between her legs now, her fingers working her clit with a fervor that borders on desperation. The tension builds, a crescendo of pleasure that threatens to shatter her very soul.

Isa's orgasm hits her like a meteor, her entire body convulsing with the force of it. Her pussy clenches around her fingers, her juices spraying out in a fountain that soaks her hand and the floor beneath her. The pleasure is so intense, so overwhelming, that for a brief moment, she forgets where she is, lost in a world of pure ecstasy. The image of the gangbang in the porn video blurs with her own reflection in the mirror, the line between fantasy and reality growing thinner by the second. Her eyes squeeze shut, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she rides the wave of her climax, her moans echoing through the empty waiting room.

When she finally opens her eyes, the aftermath of her solo performance is stark: her hand is sticky with her own fluids, her chest heaving, and her cheeks flushed. The video on her phone is still playing, but the sound has been muted by the roar of the blood in her ears. She pulls her hand away, her pussy quivering, and looks down at the mess she's made. There's a twinge of guilt, a whisper of doubt that flits through her mind, but it's quickly drowned out by the lingering aftershocks of pleasure.

The echoes of Isa's powerful orgasm still resonate through the air as she slowly comes to terms with the reality of what just happened. Her heart thunders in her chest, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The sticky warmth of her cum is a stark reminder of the unbridled passion that had just consumed her, leaving her trembling and slightly embarrassed at the wet spot on the floor. The mirror reflects an image of a girl who's just crossed an unspoken line, her eyes glazed over with a mix of satisfaction and curiosity about the dark desires that now lay bare before her.

As she takes a deep breath and attempts to compose herself, the harshness of the fluorescent lights seems to cast a judgmental glare on her naked form. The glitz and glamour of the stage have been stripped away, revealing the vulnerable young woman beneath the K-Pop images. She quickly cleans up the evidence of her masturbation, feeling a strange mix of excitement and fear. What if someone finds out about her newfound kink? Would it ruin her image? Would it change how her fans see her?

The thought sends a shiver down her spine, but it's quickly replaced by a fiery determination. This is her private time, her own little secret, and she won't let it define her public persona. She tucks the magazine back into its hiding spot, her eyes lingering on the cover for a moment longer before she turns away. The concert is over, the fans are dispersing, and she's still a star. The malfunction was a blip on the radar, something to be handled with grace and professionalism.

CHAPTER 2 : THE THUGS AND THE KIDNAP

The night air is cool against Isa's flushed skin as she slips out of the venue, hoping to avoid the usual post-concert fanfare. She chooses a shortcut through a dimly lit alley, eager to be alone with her thoughts and the aftermath of her public exposure. But the shadows hold more than just her secrets. As she walks, the echo of her boots against the concrete is soon accompanied by the jeering laughter and heavy footsteps of a group of thugs. They've recognized her from the viral video, their leering smiles growing wider as they approach.

"Well, well, well," the leader says, his voice slithering through the alley like a serpent's hiss. "If it isn't the little show-off from the concert. Did you do that for us, sweetheart?" His eyes rake over her body, a blatant hunger that sends a chill down her spine. The other men close in, their intentions as clear as the moon in the sky above.

Isa's heart races as she tries to keep a brave face. "Excuse me, I'm in a hurry," she says, her voice wavering slightly. She tries to step around them, but they block her path, their bodies a wall of malicious intent.

"Oh, we'll make sure you're not late for your next appointment," the leader sneers, reaching out to grab her arm. His grip is like iron, his nails digging into her soft flesh. "We're your biggest fans, you know. We just want to show you some... appreciation." The men chuckle in unison, their eyes glinting with a predatory gleam.

Isa's mind races as she tries to pull away, her heart hammering against her ribcage. "Please, let me go," she pleads, her voice a whisper of the confident performer she was mere hours ago. But the thugs are relentless, closing in tighter, their hands grabbing at her exposed skin with a hunger that makes her stomach churn.

The leader leans in, his breath hot and sour against her neck. "You liked showing us your goods earlier, didn't you?" he growls, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "Now it's our turn to play." His hand moves to her crop top, fumbling with the clasp as the others grab at her skirt.

Isa's body tenses as the thug's rough hand clamps down on her right nipple, his grip tight and painful. He gives it a twist, a sadistic smile playing across his lips as he watches her face contort in a mix of pain and humiliation. Her eyes water, and she tries to stifle a scream, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurts. The fabric of her crop top tears under their greedy hands, the remnants of her dignity shredded along with it. Her bare chest is exposed to the cool night air, her breasts jiggling slightly as the men lean in to get a closer look. The pain from her nipple is a sharp reminder of the danger she's in, sending a jolt of adrenaline through her veins.

One of the thugs, emboldened by his leader's actions, reaches out to cup her left breast, his palm greedily squeezing the soft flesh. "Guys, look at these tits," he says, licking his lips. "I bet you've had these out more often than you've had your panties on, huh?" His leer is almost comical in its depravity, but the fear gripping Isa's heart is anything but amusing. She tries to kick him away, but her legs are trapped in the tangle of her skirt, which is now around her ankles.

The thug's hand snakes down Isa's torso, his thick, calloused fingers digging into her soft flesh as they make their way to her thighs. He squeezes them with a groan of appreciation, the other men following his lead. They all seem to have the same idea, their grubby hands reaching out to grope and fondle her thick, muscular thighs and plump ass. Isa's breath hitches in her throat as she feels the unmistakable bulges in their pants pressing against her, their excitement palpable in the tense air of the alley.

"Let go of me, you animals!" she shouts, trying to struggle free, but their grip is too strong. They laugh, their breaths hot and heavy, as they continue to maul her. The leader's hand slides up her skirt, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of her thong. "Looks like someone enjoyed their little show," he sneers, his fingers probing further, pushing the fabric aside to reveal her glistening pussy. "You're a wet little slut, aren't you?"

Isa's body is a flurry of panic as the thugs overpower her, their rough hands tearing at her clothing and pinning her down. They're like a pack of hyenas, each fighting for a piece of their prey. Her legs kick and thrash, but it's no use; she's outnumbered and outmatched. One of the men pulls out a roll of duct tape, ripping off a piece with a grin that could only be described as sadistic. He slaps it over her mouth, silencing her protests and muffling her screams into desperate whimpers. The taste of the tape is bitter and metallic, and the smell fills her nostrils as she struggles to breathe.

Within minutes, they've managed to tie her wrists behind her back and her ankles together, hoisting her into the back of a waiting van. The doors slam shut, plunging her into darkness. The van lurches forward, and Isa's stomach drops as she's thrown around on the cold, hard floor. She can't help but wonder if this is the end, if she'll ever make it out of here to see her bandmates again. The thought of her friends, her music, her fans, it all fuels a burning anger within her, giving her the strength to keep fighting, even if it's just in her own mind.

The van ride seems to last an eternity, but it eventually comes to a jarring stop. The doors open, and Isa is dragged out by her arms, her feet barely touching the ground as the thugs pull her along. They've brought her to an abandoned house, the smell of decay and dampness fills her nostrils as she's tossed into a musty, dimly lit room. The duct tape is ripped from her mouth, and she gasps for air, the sting of pain from her bruised skin making her eyes water.

The leader of the thugs grabs a fistful of Isa's hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck. "On your knees," he commands, his voice a low growl. Isa's legs wobble, but she complies, her heart pounding in her chest. He shoves her down onto a filthy rag that covers the floor, the grime and dust of ages sticking to her skin as she lands with a whimper. The fabric is rough against her knees, the sensation only adding to her growing sense of dread and disgust.

The thugs are like hungry beasts before a feast as they strip Isa of her remaining clothing. They tear away her crop top and skirt, leaving her in nothing but her drenched thong. The fabric clings to her body, revealing the full extent of her plump, glistening ass and her thick, toned thighs. The leader rips the thong away, tossing it aside with a grunt. Isa's nakedness is laid bare, her curves and the dark patch of hair between her legs on full display for their depraved eyes. She tries to cover herself, but her bound wrists are useless, and she's pushed back down onto the rag. The coldness of the floor seeps into her, a stark contrast to the heat of the lust in the room.

"Look at her, begging for it," one of the men leers, his eyes glazed over with desire.

The leader of the thugs unzips his pants with a dramatic flourish, revealing a cock that's both terrifying and awe-inspiring in its size. It's thick and long, the veins pulsing with anticipation as it stands proudly against his muscular thigh. The other men follow suit, their cocks of varying sizes but all equally hungry for her. The room is filled with the sound of zippers and the rustle of fabric as they expose themselves, their erections bobbing in the dim light. Isa's eyes widen in horror, unable to look away from the display of male aggression and lust.

The thug's cock slams into Isa with a brutal force that steals the breath from her lungs. She screams into the gag, her eyes watering as she tries to comprehend the pain and violation. Her tight, untouched pussy stretches to accommodate his massive girth, the sensation a blend of agony and unwelcome pleasure that sends shockwaves through her body. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he fucks her without mercy, his hips slamming into her thick ass, leaving bruises that will surely last for days. The other thugs form a ring around them, jerking themselves off to the sight of the K-Pop star's degradation, their eyes glinting with malice as they wait for their turn.

As the second thug positions himself beneath her, his cock pressing against her unprepared anus, Isa's eyes widen with terror. She's never even considered such an act before, and the thought of it fills her with a visceral fear that's only heightened by the brutality of the rape she's already enduring. He doesn't bother with lubrication or gentleness, simply pushing his way into her with the same violent enthusiasm as his comrades. Isa's screams are muffled by the gag as she's stretched to the limits, her body a battleground for their twisted desires.

The sensation of being double-penetrated is unlike anything Isa has ever experienced. The pain is unbearable, a fiery invasion that seems to rip her apart from the inside out. She tries to squirm away, but the weight of the man beneath her keeps her in place, his hands gripping her hips as he thrusts up into her. The thug behind her shows no mercy, his thick cock pummeling her pussy without pause. Her body is a symphony of pain, each movement sending a new wave of agony crashing through her.

Isa's cries for help echo through the abandoned house, her body contorting in pain as she's mercilessly used by the two thugs. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and her cheeks are stained with tears as she rides the edge of the agony they inflict upon her. Her thick, curvy body is a canvas of their brutality, each thrust into her ass and pussy a testament to their depraved hunger. The sound of her cries mingles with the sickening wet slaps of their bodies coming together, the squelching of her ravaged holes as they're stretched beyond their limits.

"Look at her, taking it like a champ," the man beneath her says, his voice thick with lust. He grabs her ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he fucks her harder, the head of his cock popping out of her asshole with every thrust before plunging back in. The other man, the one who had been watching, decides he can't wait any longer. He moves closer, stroking his cock in time with the rhythm of his friends' rape, his eyes never leaving Isa's tear-stained face.

The pain and degradation become too much for Isa, and her body finally gives out. Her vision swims, and she faints, her head lolling back as the thugs continue to pound into her, their grunts and the squelching of her ravaged holes the last things she hears before everything goes dark. Her muscles relax, no longer resisting the intrusion, and for a brief moment, she finds a small reprieve in unconsciousness.

But the thugs are not content to let her escape so easily. The leader notices her stillness and gives her a vicious slap across the face, bringing her back to the world of pain with a gasp. "Wake up, slut," he snarls, twisting her nipple to the point where she can feel it might snap off. "You're still far from done."

Isa's eyes fly open, the pain in her nipple a white-hot beacon of agony that cuts through the fog of her fading consciousness. The thug holding her by the hair yanks her upright, and she's forced to look at the man beneath her, his cock still buried in her ass, his face twisted in a grotesque mask of pleasure. "You like it rough, don't you?" he asks, his voice a sneer. "You're going to love what we have planned for you next."

The thug beneath Isa doesn't miss a beat, his hips continuing to piston upwards, his cock tearing into her ass without mercy. He's a man possessed, driven by his own twisted desires and the thrill of defiling a celebrity. The thug in front of her, his cock still buried deep in her pussy, starts to fuck her even harder, his movements punctuated by the cruel twists of her nipple. The pain is unbearable, but the fear of what they'll do if she doesn't stay conscious keeps her eyes open, her body tense.

"You're going to make a great little porn star," the leader says, holding up his phone to capture the scene. "Just think, your fans will get to see the real you." His words are like acid, burning into her soul as the thugs continue to ravage her body. Isa feels a strange mix of anger and humiliation, her mind racing as she tries to find a way out of this nightmare. But for now, she's trapped, a plaything for their sick games.

The third man steps closer, his cock bobbing with excitement. "My turn," he says, his voice guttural. He grabs her hair, yanking her head back so he can whisper in her ear. "You're going to suck me off, and you're going to love it." The taste of the duct tape is still in her mouth as he forces his cock between her lips, her gag muffling her gagging noises. He's not gentle, pushing his way into her throat until she chokes, her eyes watering and nose running with snot. The men laugh, the sound a symphony of cruelty that rings in her ears as she's used in ways she never imagined.

The camera's red light glares at her, a silent witness to her degradation. The thug filming zooms in on her face, capturing the tears streaming down her cheeks, the snot bubbling at her nose, the pain in her eyes. He moves it down to her gaping pussy and asshole, the juices of her rape mixing with the grime of the floor. "You're going to be famous, baby," he says, his voice a sadistic purr. "Everyone's going to see you like this." The thought of her fans watching this, of her family discovering her darkest secret, fills her with a despair so deep she thinks she might drown in it.

But Isa isn't one to go down without a fight. With a surge of strength she didn't know she had, she bucks her hips, trying to dislodge the cocks inside her. The men laugh, tightening their grips, but she doesn't stop. Her body is a whirlwind of pain and fear, but she refuses to let them have complete control over her. The thug filming moves closer, his cock pressing against her cheek. "Suck it," he says, his voice a demand. "You know you want too."

The thugs continue to abuse Isa's unconscious body, her muscles now limp and unresponsive. They take turns fucking her, their cocks sliding in and out of her gaping holes with ease. Her pussy and asshole are stretched to the maximum, the flesh around them raw and torn from their abuse. They laugh and jeer as they use her, their sadistic pleasure clear in every grunt and slap against her flesh. The one filming keeps a close watch, making sure to capture every moment of her degradation.

"Look at her, she's like a fucking ragdoll," one of the men says, pulling out of her pussy and smacking her cheek with his wet cock. "I bet she's never thought she will be fucked like this before." he added.

The thugs, sated by their depraved act, stand up, their cocks still dripping with Isa's blood and cum. They laugh among themselves, basking in the power they've exerted over her. The leader grabs a roll of rope from the corner of the room and approaches her limp form. They hoist her up, her body hanging lifelessly as they tie her wrists tightly to a metal bar that's bolted to the wall. The cold metal bites into her skin, leaving red welts that stand out starkly against her pale flesh. They bind her ankles as well, spreading her legs wide, her gaping holes still on display.

"Leave her like this," the leader says with a malicious smile. "It'll be a surprise when she wakes up."

The men chuckle as they pull on their clothes, their eyes lingering on Isa's bruised and bloodied body. They grab a few bottles of water from a dusty shelf, tossing them at her feet. "You're going to need these," one of them says, his voice filled with mock concern.

Isa slowly comes to, her head lolling to the side as she tries to make sense of her surroundings. The pain between her legs is a constant, pulsing throb, a stark reminder of the horror she's endured. She looks down at her bound wrists, the metal digging into her skin, and feels a wave of despair wash over her. She tries to scream, but her voice is gone, lost to the screams of the night before. All that comes out is a hoarse whisper that's barely audible even to her own ears.

Her eyes fall on the bottles of water, a cruel taunt in the face of her suffering. With trembling hands, she manages to untie the knots around her ankles, the rope scraping against her raw, bruised skin. Wincing, she uses the bar to pull herself up into a standing position, her legs threatening to give out beneath her. Every movement sends a fresh wave of agony through her body, but she refuses to succumb to it. Determined to survive, she hobbles over to the water, her legs shaking with effort.

The liquid is lukewarm and stale, but it's a gift from the gods as it hits her parched throat. She gulps down half the bottle, feeling a semblance of life return to her. Her eyes scan the room, searching for anything she can use to free herself. The metal bar digs into her wrists as she tries to pull herself together, the pain a stark reminder of her new reality. In the corner, she spots a rusty knife, discarded amidst the detritus of the abandoned house.

CHAPTER 3 : ANYTHING TO RELIEVE MY PAIN

The leader of the thugs saunters back into the room, a sadistic smile playing across his face as he watches Isa's futile attempts to free herself. He's followed by two of his laughing comrades, their eyes raking over her bruised and bloodied form with predatory interest. Isa tries to shrink away from them, but her bound body refuses to cooperate. The leader pulls a syringe filled with a murky liquid from his pocket and strides over to her, his cock already thickening at the sight of her fear.

"You're going to love this, sweetheart," he says, his voice a sinister purr as he approaches her. "It's going to make you feel so good, you'll be begging us to come back." He grabs her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You're going to be our little addict, aren't you?"

Isa's eyes widen with terror as she watches him prepare the syringe, her heart hammering in her chest. She tries to pull away, but the metal bar is unforgiving, holding her firmly in place. The needle pierces her skin, the cold liquid invading her body, and she feels a rush of warmth followed by a nauseating wave of dizziness. Her legs give out, and she slumps to the floor, the thug holding her up with a grip on her hair. The drug takes effect quickly, a euphoric haze clouding her mind, muting the pain and fear.

"Look at her, she's already a junkie," one of the other thugs says, laughing. "This is going to be so much fun."

The leader chuckles, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. "You're going to be our little slut for as long as we want you," he whispers in her ear. The drug is already starting to make Isa feel woozy, her thoughts a tangled mess of fear and confusion. She tries to fight it, to cling to the last vestiges of her dignity, but the haze is too strong.

As Isa's eyes roll back in her head and she succumbs to the drug-induced faint, the thugs chuckle to themselves, their sadistic games successful. They leave her there, sprawled on the cold floor, her body a canvas of bruises and abuse. The abandoned house is silent once more, the only sound the distant echoes of their laughter. Days pass, and the drug takes a firmer hold on Isa's system, turning her into a desperate, addicted wreck. The withdrawal is a monster that gnaws at her bones, making her crave the very thing that has brought her to this state of despair. Her mind is foggy, and the pain between her legs is a constant, pulsing reminder of their brutality.

Isa, desperate and overwhelmed by the relentless craving for the drug, finds herself succumbing to the thugs' twisted demand. With the camera's red light blinking in the corner, she hesitates for a moment before sliding her trembling hand down her bruised body. She's lost count of the times she's been violated, the rapes and abuse leaving her feeling both physically and mentally shattered. Her fingers tentatively trace her swollen pussy lips, the sensation sending a jolt through her despite the pain. The drug has turned her into a sexual creature, her body now a tool for their perverse entertainment.

The thugs circle around her, their cocks hardening at the sight of her submission. They jeer and leer, urging her on with crude comments and lewd gestures. One of them grabs her chin, forcing her to look into the camera. "Smile for the camera, slut," he sneers, his breath hot and rancid against her cheek. Isa's eyes are vacant, glazed over with the need for the drug that will dull the agony of withdrawal. She whimpers, her hand moving faster, her thumb brushing against her clit, trying to coax out the release she so desperately craves.

The leader steps closer, his hand stroking his own cock as he watches Isa's pitiful performance. "That's a good girl," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "Now, spread those legs wider for us." The pain in her thighs and ass is unbearable, but she complies, her body now a tool for their depraved amusement. The camera zooms in on her, capturing the raw desperation in her eyes, the tears that roll down her cheeks. The men cheer, their excitement palpable as they watch her degrade herself for a fleeting moment of relief.

Isa's hand moves faster, her fingers slipping in and out of her wet pussy, the sound of her masturbation echoing through the room. The drug has heightened her sensitivity, and even the slightest touch feels like a bolt of lightning. Her body responds despite her mind's protests, her hips bucking involuntarily as she tries to get herself off. The thug holding the camera leans in closer, his breath hot on her neck. "You're going to be the best little slut we've ever had," he whispers, his hand reaching out to tweak her nipple, sending a fresh wave of pain through her.

The leader watches with a cruel smile, stroking his own cock as he decides how far to push her. "Keep going," he says, his voice a command. "I want to see you cum for us." The other two thugs sit back, watching the show with eager eyes. They've grown bored of the usual rape and pain, the novelty of her masturbation a new form of entertainment. They make lewd comments, egging her on as she fucks herself for them.

With trembling hands, Isa takes the massive dildos from the leader's outstretched hand. They're much larger than anything she's ever seen before, let alone had inside her. Her eyes fill with fear and revulsion, but the desperate craving for the drug overpowers her. She knows what will happen if she refuses, the memory of the withdrawal agony fresh in her mind. With a deep, shuddering breath, she slowly inserts one of the dildos into her already abused pussy, the thickness stretching her beyond what she thought possible. She bites back a scream, her teeth sinking into her lower lip until she tastes blood. The other dildo is cold and unwieldy in her hand, but she knows what's expected. She reluctantly brings it closer to her asshole, the memory of their violent rape making her shiver.

The thugs leer at her, their cocks fully erect and bobbing with anticipation. The leader's hand is still wrapped around his shaft, stroking it with a leisurely pace. "Go on," he urges, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You know what to do."

With a whimper, Isa braces herself and pushes the second dildo into her asshole, the thick head popping in with a wet sound. She can feel the cold plastic filling her up, the sensation both terrifying and oddly comforting in the face of the pain she's come to expect. She starts to rock back and forth, the dildos moving in tandem, filling her completely. The thugs cheer, their eyes glued to her stretched, gaping holes. The pain is intense, but she's learned to separate her mind from her body, focusing instead on the task at hand.

The leader steps closer, his cock now fully erect and pointing at her like an accusatory finger. "You like that, don't you?" he sneers, his hand reaching out to tweak her clit. The sudden contact sends a jolt of pain through her, and she gasps, her eyes squeezing shut. "Look at us," he commands, his grip on her chin brutal. "Look at us while you fuck yourself."

Isa's eyes fly open, and she looks into the camera, the dildos moving in and out of her in a macabre dance. The pain is unbearable, but she knows she has to keep going. She starts to rub her clit with frenzied strokes, her eyes never leaving the camera. The thugs cheer her on, their excitement feeding the darkness inside her. Her orgasm is a strange, twisted thing, born from pain and fear. Her body convulses around the dildos, her muscles clenching and releasing in a desperate bid for relief. She cums hard, the sensation a blend of agony and pleasure that makes her scream, her voice raw from days of abuse.

"Good girl," the leader says, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He steps closer, his cock now fully engorged. "Now, you're going to take us all again." The other thugs chuckle, eager for their turn. They unbind her from the chair, her limbs trembling from the effort of holding herself up for so long. The withdrawal pains are starting to creep back in, a persistent reminder of her dependence on them. They push her onto her hands and knees, her plump ass in the air, the dildos still lodged inside her. The leader steps up behind her, his cock nudging against her bruised asshole. She feels a fresh wave of terror, knowing what's coming next.

"Please," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "Please, no more. It's hurt so much."

CHAPTER 4 : THE TWO FACED CEO's

The leader's cock slams into Isa's ass, the thick dildo still lodged in her pussy. She feels like she's being split in two, the pain so intense she can't help but cry out. The thugs laugh and jeer, their excitement building as they watch the K-Pop star degrade herself for their amusement. The camera captures every moment of her anguish, the video feed streaming to the eager eyes of the old VVIPs on the dark web.

"Look at her, she's loving it," one of the thugs says, slapping her ass as the leader pumps into her. The CEOs of the K-Pop companies watch, their own hands working their cocks as they revel in her degradation. The thought of them watching, getting off to her pain, adds a new layer of horror to the situation.

Isa's body shakes with each brutal thrust, the dildo in her pussy slamming against her cervix with every thrust. The pain is unbearable, but she's learned to find a twisted sense of control in the chaos. If she can just endure this, if she can just make it through another round, then maybe, just maybe, she can find a way out of this hell. But the drug's grip is strong, and with each passing day, she feels herself slipping further and further away from reality.

"She's going to be a star," one of the thugs says, slapping her ass again. "The old fucks are going to pay a fortune for a piece of her."

Isa bites her lip to stifle her scream, but she opens them again, focusing on the camera as if it's a lifeline. The other two thugs move in, one holding her head still, forcing her to watch as they take turns with her.

The thugs, their excitement reaching a crescendo, pull Isa's limp body away from the metal chair. Her legs give out, unable to support her after the hours of abuse, but they catch her, their grips bruising her skin even more. They strip the dildos from her ravaged holes, tossing them aside with a wet slap. The leader steps back, zipping up his pants with a smirk. "Let's get you ready for your next performance," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The thugs, having struck a deal with the VVIPs on the dark web, begin to prepare Isa for her next ordeal. They strip her of any remaining dignity, cleaning her up as best as they can without showing any semblance of care for her wellbeing. Her body is a canvas of bruises and abrasions, a stark testament to the horrors she's endured. They tie her up in a new, more elaborate position, her thick thighs and curvy ass displayed prominently for the perverted gazes of their wealthy patrons. The anticipation of what's to come fills her with dread, but she's too broken to fight anymore.

"You're going to make us so much money, little slut," one of the thugs says, running his hands over her body, his fingers lingering on the swollen mounds of her breasts. "These old fucks are going to line up for a taste of you."

Isa's heart races with fear as she's hoisted back onto the chair, the ropes biting into her skin as they secure her in place. The knowledge that she's being sold to these high-profile perverts is almost too much to bear. She tries to keep her breathing steady, but her chest heaves with the effort of not breaking down completely.

Isa numbly stares at the array of skimpy, revealing clothes laid out before her. The thugs had brought in a selection of outfits that would make any self-respecting woman cringe - garments that screamed "slut" and "whore" with every thread. Her mind races with the thought of what fresh hell awaits her, but she knows that resisting is futile. With trembling hands, she picks out the least offensive of the bunch, a tiny bikini top made of nothing but a few strategically placed strips of shiny fabric and a pair of booty shorts that barely cover her ass cheeks.

The thugs watch with hungry eyes as she peels off the tattered remnants of her original outfit, her body on full display. They make lewd comments and whistle, their excitement palpable. One of them hands her a roll of duct tape. "Here, use this to keep those nipples hidden," he sneers, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. Isa's cheeks burn with humiliation as she takes the tape, her eyes downcast. She carefully tapes her nipples, trying to maintain a semblance of modesty despite the futility of the gesture.

The thugs exchange glances, their grins widening as they watch her struggle to put on the flimsy bikini top. The fabric clings to her bruised and swollen breasts, the tape barely containing them. Her stomach churns at the thought of what the CEOs will do to her, but she forces herself to stand, the shorts barely hugging her thick thighs. They laugh as she wobbles, her legs still weak from the days of abuse. The leader steps forward, his gaze raking over her. "You clean up nicely," he says, his voice a sneer. "Now, let's get you ready for your clients."

Isa, dressed in the skimpy stripper-like attire, is led out of the abandoned house, the thugs' hands rough on her arms as they guide her through the dark streets. The cold air hits her bare skin, sending goosebumps rushing over her body, a stark contrast to the warm, stifling air inside. They throw her into the back of a van, the metal floor cold and unforgiving against her bruised knees. The vehicle lurches forward, the bumps in the road jostling her in her seat, the dull ache between her legs a constant reminder of her situation.

The drive seems to last an eternity, the only sounds the grumbling of the engine and the occasional lewd comment from the thugs up front. The van eventually stops, and Isa is pulled out into the dimly lit parking lot of what looks like an exclusive club. The thugs lead her through a back entrance, the heavy door slamming shut behind them, sealing her fate. The music thumps through the walls, the bass vibrating in her chest as they ascend a staircase to a private room. The anticipation of what's to come is suffocating, her heart racing in her chest.

The door to the room opens, revealing a dimly lit space filled with the thick scent of cigar smoke and the low murmur of male voices. The CEOs are seated around a large, circular table, their eyes lighting up at the sight of Isa. They're all dressed in expensive suits, their faces a mix of excitement and greed. The leader of the thugs shoves her into the center of the room, where she stands awkwardly, her legs trembling. "Gentlemen," he says, with a flourish of his hand. "Your entertainment for the evening is finally here."

Isa, trembling with fear and humiliation, steps into the center of the dimly lit, smoke-filled room. The old men's eyes are glued to her, their gazes greedy and predatory. She knows she has to go through with the dance, hoping it'll buy her time or at least some form of mercy. She takes a deep, shaky breath and starts to sway her hips, trying to remember the choreographed routines she's done countless times on stage. The music begins, a slow, sensual beat that seems to mock the horror of her situation. She moves her body in time with the rhythm, her bruises and sores screaming with each twirl and gyration.

The CEOs lean back in their chairs, smoking cigars and sipping on expensive whiskey, their eyes never leaving her. They murmur to each other, placing bets on how long she'll last before breaking down. Isa tries to ignore them, focusing instead on the task at hand. The shorts ride up, exposing more of her thick thighs and the upper swells of her plump ass, making the men's eyes bulge with lust. She reaches behind her, her hand slipping into her shorts to caress her ass cheek, eliciting a chorus of lewd cheers. Her movements are forced, the dance a twisted parody of the ones she's performed for her fans, but she's determined to maintain some semblance of control.

One of the CEOs, Mr. Kim saunters over to the stereo and cranks up the volume, the bass thumping louder, the beat faster. "Alright, slut, don't waste our time anymore" he says, his voice thick with excitement. "Now, you're going to strip for us, nice and slow." The room goes quiet, the CEOs leaning in, their anticipation palpable. Isa feels their eyes on her, the weight of their lust and greed a heavy burden. With trembling hands, she reaches behind her neck, her fingers fumbling with the strings of the bikini top. It's a struggle, her coordination impaired by fear and pain, but she finally manages to untie it. The top falls away, revealing her bruised and taped-covered breasts, the fabric clinging to her skin.

The CEOs let out a collective groan, their eyes glued to her chest. Isa can see their cocks straining against their pants, their faces flushing with desire. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her trembling legs, and continues to dance. Her movements become more erratic as she fumbles with the strings of her shorts, the pressure building with each passing second. Finally, the shorts fall to the floor, pooling around her ankles, leaving only a g-string covering her pussy.

The thugs cheer, egging her on, while the CEOs lean back in their chairs, stroking their cocks through their pants. "Keep going," said Mr Han, his voice thick with lust. "Show us what you've got, what you hide underneath your idol stage outfits."

Isa's hands shake as she reaches for the strings of her g-string. The room seems to spin around her, the strobe lights flashing in time with her racing heartbeat. She pulls the string, the fabric slipping down her hips, revealing her plump, abused pussy to their eager gazes. The CEOs lean in closer, their breathing labored, their hunger for her degradation insatiable. She's never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But she knows that she has to endure this. For the drug. For the hope of escape.

As Isa continues her erotic dance, her thick thighs jiggle with every move she makes. The CEOs' eyes are glued to her, their lust-filled gazes burning into her very soul. The room's temperature seems to rise, the heat of their desire melding with the smoke from their cigars. She starts to twerks, her plump ass bouncing to the beat of the music, the cheers and catcalls from the men spurring her on despite her fear. The leader of the thugs circles her, filming every move with a grin on his face, knowing the kind of money this footage will bring in. The sound of their zippers echoes through the room as the CEOs free their cocks, stroking themselves in time with her dance.

Mr. Han, a particularly portly man with a greasy combover, stands up and waddles closer to her. He grabs her by the hips, forcing her to grind against him. Isa tries to pull away, but he's too strong, his grip bruising her tender flesh. He whispers lewd things into her ear, his hot breath reeking of alcohol and cigars. Isa feels his cock, thick and hard, pressing against her stomach, and she can't help but gag. But she keeps dancing, her body moving on autopilot, her mind desperately searching for a way out of this nightmare.

Mr. Han's patience snaps, his lust overtaking his sense of decorum. He stands with a grunt, his grip on Isa's hips tightening. With a grin that's more a snarl, he hoists her into the air, the muscles in his arms bulging with the effort. Isa squeals in fear and surprise, her legs kicking wildly as she's held aloft. The room goes quiet, the other CEOs watching with rapt attention, their cocks in their hands, stroking in time with the music.

He slams Isa onto the table, the impact knocking the wind out of her. Her bruised body bounces slightly with the force, her taped-covered breasts jiggling from the impact. The table creaks under her weight, the surface sticky with the residue of previous debauchery. The thugs laugh, watching as she tries to push herself up, only for Mr. Han to slap her down, his hand leaving a red mark on her cheek. Her thick thighs spread wide, her pussy glistening with a mix of her own arousal and their previous abuse.

"Hold her down," he barks, his eyes wild with lust. The thugs move in, each grabbing an arm and a leg, spreading her out like a ragdoll for the CEOs' amusement. Mr. Han with the combover licks his lips, his hands fumbling with his belt buckle. "You're going to take us all, by turns" he says, his voice a low growl. "You're going to scream for us, and we're going to fuck you until you can't walk."

Isa's heart races as the Mr. Han unzips his pants, revealing a cock that's both terrifying and repulsive in its size. She tries to struggle, to fight, but the thugs' grip is too strong. The other CEOs crowd around the table, their eyes gleaming with excitement. One of them, a man with a cruel smile and a glint in his eye, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a marker pen. He starts to write on her body, his hand moving with a disturbing level of precision, leaving behind crude words that sting almost as much as the physical abuse. "Thigh Slut," he scrawls on her thigh, his breath hot against her skin. "Cheap Whore," on her stomach and "Bitch Korean Idol," on her ass cheeks. The others laugh, their hands reaching out to touch and grope her.

Mr. Han with the combover steps closer, his erection bobbing in the air. He grabs her face, turning it toward him, forcing her to look into his eyes. "You're going to scream for me," he says, his voice a mix of excitement and malice. "You're going to beg for it." He lines up his cock with her pussy, the head nudging against her swollen entrance. Isa's eyes widen with horror as she feels him push inside, the pain making her back arch off the table. She lets out a guttural scream, the sound echoing through the room.

Mr. Han grunts with satisfaction, his cock disappearing into her wetness. He starts to pound into her, his belly slapping against her bruised flesh. The thugs hold her down, their grips tightening as she bucks and struggles beneath them. The other CEOs lean in, their faces a mix of fascination and depravity as they watch the scene unfold. Mr. Kim then reaches down and slaps her ass, leaving a red handprint on her pale skin. "Take it, you little slut," he says, his voice gleeful. Isa's eyes fill with tears as she's used like a ragdoll, her body a plaything for their twisted desires.

"My turn," another CEO says, his voice a wheeze as he steps forward. The thug holding her leg releases it, and the old man takes his place, his cock already out and dripping with precum. He lines up behind her, his breath hot and sour in her ear. "You're going to take us all," he whispers, his hand reaching around to fondle her breasts. Isa tries to scream, but it's muffled by the gag that's been shoved into her mouth, the fabric biting into her tender flesh. She feels him push into her ass, the pain so intense she thinks she'll pass out. But she doesn't. She's too aware of what's happening, too present in the horror of her reality.

Mr. Han with the combover doesn't bother to hold back, his thrusts violent and erratic. He's not trying to pleasure her, just to satisfy his own twisted desires. Isa feels her insides stretch to the breaking point, the pain unlike anything she's ever felt. Mr. Han laughs, his hands squeezing her tits, his nails digging into her skin. The room spins around her, the faces of the old men a blur of lust and cruelty. They take turns, each one more brutal than the last, her cries muffled by the gag, her body a canvas for their depravity. They write on her, take photos, and even film their sick acts, sharing them with each other like trophies.

Isa feels herself slipping away, the pain and humiliation too much to bear. Her eyes glaze over, and she goes limp, the only indication of her consciousness the occasional whimper that escapes her gag. The CEOs don't seem to notice or care, passing her around the table like a toy to be used and discarded. The leader of the thugs, his eyes gleaming with greed, records everything, knowing the more degrading the content, the higher the price it'll fetch. Her mind drifts to the music she used to dance to, the lights, the fans' adoration. It feels like a lifetime ago, a world she'll never see again.

The CEOs take turns, their age not dampening their voracious appetites. Each one leaves his mark on her body, a grim testament to their power and control. The pain is constant, a never-ending crescendo that threatens to consume her. Her body is a battleground, her soul screaming for mercy. The room is a blur of movement and noise, the thud of flesh on flesh, the grunts of the CEOs, and the muffled sounds of her own pain. She feels a strange mix of anger and resignation, knowing that she's nothing but a commodity to them.

As the last of the CEOs pulls out, his cock slick with Isa's blood and tears, he grabs her by the hair and yanks her head back, forcing her to look at the group. "One last thing," he says with a sadistic smile. His cock still semi-hard, and starts to urinate on her. The warm stream of piss hits her face, mixing with her salty tears and running down her cheeks. She tries to turn away, but his grip is too strong. The other CEOs laugh, some of them standing up to get a better view, their own cocks still hard from the spectacle.

The CEOs, sated from their vile act, stand around the table, their cocks still out and glistening. They look at each other with a mix of disbelief and excitement, the reality of their depravity setting in. Mr.Kim nods, a grin spreading across his face. "Alright, let's not waste any more time," he says, his voice a mix of excitement and greed. "Line up." The other CEOs eagerly queue up, their urine flowing freely as they wait for their turn to add to Isa's degradation. The first CEO's stream of piss cascades down her face, mixing with her mascara and eyeliner, creating dark rivers that run down her neck and pool in the hollows of her collarbones.

Isa's body feels heavy and numb, the pain from their abuse and the humiliation of their bodily fluids on her a new level of hell. Each man takes his turn, their urine spattering her body, soaking her hair, and pooling around her on the table. The cold liquid runs down her back and into the cracks of her ass, making her shiver. Mr. Park, the CEO with the marker steps forward, his cock still semi-hard, and with a sadistic smirk, he writes another word across her forehead, "Public Property." The thugs laugh, their grip on her arms and legs never loosening.

As Isa feels the last drops of their urine hit her skin, she can't hold back the flood of emotions anymore. She starts to cry uncontrollably, her body shaking with sobs. The CEOs laugh and jeer, their amusement only growing at the sight of their property sobbing like a pathetic animal. The thugs, bored with the show, release her limbs, allowing her to collapse onto the table, her body sticky with their piss and sweat.

The leader of the thugs steps forward, his grin fading to a look of business-like indifference. "Alright, that's enough fun for now," he says, snapping his fingers. "Clean her up. We've got more...clients." The thugs begin to drag her off the table, her limbs limp and useless. One of them grabs a bucket and a sponge, tossing it in her direction. "Get to work, slut," he sneers. "You've got another show to put on."

THE END

[paucubarsisimp]

silly

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: in which your bf is being his silly self

warnings: none

the night was settling in softly around the paddock, and the sound of tires rolling on asphalt and distant chatter was slowly fading into the background. you had escaped the hustle and bustle of the paddock for a few moments of peace. the cool air wrapped around you, and you leaned back against the garage wall, enjoying the stillness as you looked up at the sky.

and then you heard it.

“princess!” lando’s voice rang out, cutting through the quiet night. you looked over to see him jogging toward you, his messy hair sticking out from under his helmet, his racing suit slightly wrinkled, but his grin as bright as ever.

you raised an eyebrow, smirking as he approached. “you’re a bit late to the party, aren’t you?”

lando slid down beside you with all the grace of a clumsy puppy. he didn’t even bother trying to sit normally. instead, he flopped dramatically onto the grass with a loud thud, his arm immediately reaching out to pull you into his side.

“ah, but this is the best part of the party,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he pulled you closer. “nothing’s better than being with my beautiful princess.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “so now i’m your princess, huh?”

“always, baby,” he said with a wink, his hand sliding to rest against your back, rubbing small circles. “you know you’re the only one who can handle all this charming, goofy energy.”

you chuckled, leaning into him. “oh, i’m sure you think so.”

“oh, i know so.” lando gave a dramatic sigh and flopped onto his back, hands behind his head as he stared at the stars. “the amount of greatness in this body, it’s practically uncontainable,” he added, his voice dripping with mock humility.

you raised your eyebrows in amusement. “i think you’re confusing ‘greatness’ with ‘nonsense.’”

“maybe,” lando replied, turning his head to look at you. “but i’d like to think i’m both a great and a nonsense kind of guy. and you’re lucky enough to get both.”

you shook your head, laughing. “i’m lucky, huh?”

“oh, absolutely,” he said, his eyes mischievous. “i’m a treasure.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “a treasure, huh? that’s one way to put it.”

he gave a dramatic sigh, his hand flying to his forehead. “a treasure who’s been neglected. a treasure who needs constant adoration and appreciation.”

you tilted your head, smirking. “is that so? and here i thought i was the one in need of affection.”

lando turned toward you, his face now serious—well, as serious as he could get. “oh, no, my princess. you’re the one who gives the affection. i’m the one who receives it. you are the queen of this relationship.”

you could feel your heart flutter. it was always those little moments where he flipped from his usual goofy self to being so sincere that got you. you looked at him with a smile, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.

“you’re a dork, but i kind of love it,” you whispered.

he grinned, his eyes softening as he leaned in close. “and i kind of love you, baby.”

before you could respond, he playfully squished your cheeks together with his hands, forcing you into a pout. “how could i not? you’re too cute for your own good.”

you laughed, trying to push him off playfully, but his grip on your face only tightened. “lando, stop it!”

“never.” he leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. “you’re stuck with me now. forever, princess.”

“i think i’m okay with that,” you said, smiling brightly at him. “because you’re the best kind of ridiculous.”

“that’s me,” he said with a wink. “the best kind of ridiculous.”

he sat up, pulling you with him, his hand in yours as he swung your intertwined fingers back and forth. the mischievous grin returned to his face as he stared at you. “by the way, you do know i’m also an incredible dancer, right?”

“oh no,” you said, eyes widening playfully. “not again.”

before you could even react, lando stood up and struck a dramatic pose, one arm reaching high to the sky, the other down low like he was about to do the most exaggerated ballet move. then, with no warning, he burst into the most ridiculous, off-beat dance you’d ever seen—flailing his arms around like a windmill, jumping in awkward little circles, and even trying to spin with all the grace of a two-year-old learning to walk.

you couldn’t help it. you burst into laughter, clutching your stomach as your face flushed from all the giggling.

“lando, you look like a malfunctioning robot!” you managed to get out between your laughter.

he paused mid-spin, hands on his hips, staring at you seriously. “excuse me? you wound me, princess,” he said dramatically, flopping back onto the grass next to you. “i’ll have you know, that was art. true, raw talent.”

“i think i’m going to have to report you to the dance police,” you teased.

“i’m too good for them to handle.” lando winked, his head resting back against the grass, looking up at the sky. “but seriously, baby, i’m glad you’re here. i’m glad it’s you.”

you gazed at him, your heart warming as he smiled softly at you. “you’re kind of perfect, you know that?”

lando turned his head and smiled, his hand reaching for yours again. “i’m just a dork who’s lucky enough to have you as my princess.”

“well, in that case, i guess i’ll keep you around,” you whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss on his lips, full of warmth and affection.

“and i’ll never let you go, baby. never.”

[whoreforsexymen]

Love Me (Bar)Tender | NSFW Flash 🫗

(GIF cred: me <3)

Y’all see what I did there? With the title? Hehe. Ok, sorry, I’ll leave.

(I know the gif is technically a sad scene, but y’all can’t tell me you aren’t imagining him pressing his forehead against yours like that in the heat of the moment 😩)

Anyways…

Pairings: Vander x Reader

Pronouns: Female Identifying/AFAB!Reader

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked!!

Word Count: 498

Tags: Riding, Fluffy Smut, Vander being pussywhipped (kinda), Poetic Smut, Vander is smitten by you (as he should be 😉), Tooth Decayingly Sweet Smut

Notes: I guess I’m just on a roll today. Haven’t touched this account in like 5 years and now here I am— Posting 8 things in one day. Go, me!

(I can see you, minors. Get outta here 🤺🤺. BACK! BACK, I SAY!)

“Fuck— Yeah. Like that, pretty girl.” Vander huffs out. Barely able to breathe, like a fish out of water. With practiced grace, you roll your hips, the fluidity of your movement reminiscent of a seasoned dancer lost in the rhythm, every shift a seamless blend of control and expression.

Vander’s head can no longer bear the weight of how you were making him feel—tilting backward as his neck gives way. It falls against the headboard, the movement slow and weary, a silent surrender to the beckoning of pleasure.

His eyes fall shut, and his breathing becomes erratic—quick, needy, shallow gasps. The only sounds he can manage are strained grunts, desperate groans, and breathless utterances of your name.

Your hips swirl, bearing your weight down on his thighs with your hands. You lean back into them, your movements slow but insistent, each one designed to draw him further into the frenzy—relentless in your pursuit to push him beyond control.

Your own insistent whining mixes with his, a symphonic blend of desperation between the two of you.

His hands are kneading your hips inexorably. Almost as if he’s scared to let go. His nails feel desperate to burrow under your skin with the way he’s clawing at you.

“You’ve got magic in these hips, love,” he says, his voice hushed, as if your motions had cast a spell— urging him to speak.

You can’t speak, your breath ragged and uneven as you picked up the pace, leaving you too consumed by the urgency to form a single word. You needed more. Not just of his words, or the deliciously whiny way he spoke. You were already stretched to the limit, every inch of you aching, yet the hunger within you refused to be sated. You craved more—more of him, as a whole.

If you could, you’d dissolve into him, merging into one single being, where every pulse, every breath, is shared between the two of you—inseparable, bound by desire.

“So good, pretty girl. You’re doing so good. Don’t think I can take much more, love.” He grunts, his eyes fluttering open to find you again, the sight of you cutting through the hazy state of desire he’d been gliding through.

He had been a fool to ever look away—how could he ever let himself look away? You weren’t just beautiful; you were everything a masterpiece could never capture, an intoxicating blend of grace and fire, more captivating than any sculpture or painting, alive and burning with an allure that consumed him whole.

“Fuck.” He grunts, unable to form a single coherent thought, let alone words. Every impulse in him screamed to voice the things he couldn’t hold back, to tell you what was racing through his mind. But your movements—each one more demanding than the last—silenced him, keeping his voice captive, lost in the frenzy of the moment.

“My girl. My pretty girl.” Is all he can muster before you’re both crashing into each others like waves against a cliff.

[rafesplaymate]

Dirty Little Secret 𐙚₊˚⊹

Paramour!Rafe Cameron x Married!Reader

warnings: smut. spit-play. impact play. choking. degradation. dumbification? infidelity (not on reader). slight age gap (reader is early 20s / rafe is mid 20s). slight angst on rafe’s end.

a/n: im sorry but Rafe would def be my side piece, don’t lie you know you get it.

········ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆ ········

She should feel guilty.

She should be swearing to never see him again. To be a faithful wife to her husband and give him the loyalty he deserves. He’s truly a good man — she should feel so many disgusting emotions that leave her wrecked.

But the only thing she feels inside her, is the brain-numbing pleasure and intoxicating desire that being around her lover brings.

What he gives to her, over and over again without any hesitation.

Rafe Cameron is everything she desires in a man.

Powerful, affluent, domineering — intoxicatingly handsome.

A menacing air of influence constantly swirling around him as he swaggers through life with an unmatched aura of assertiveness. And she knew that the moment they locked eyes that first night, her whole world, everything she knew — would be set ablaze.

She’d settled down too young. Too quickly. Too blinded by the idea of love and stability her husband was quick to offer her. Too enticed by the idea of living in luxury and getting far away from a place she felt was a dead-end.

Her husband was a good guy. Handsome, fit, in her age range. A trust fund, baby who fell in love with the dancer he met on vacation. Completely infatuated with her captivating beauty and the need to give her a life away from the club scene.

So he promised her a life of grandeur, mumbling sweet nothings of ‘you don’t need this anymore. I’ll give you whatever you want, just come back home with me. Marry me.’ He’d murmured to her— too wrapped up in her, in the sheets of the hotel room he was staying in.

And she did marry him.

It was a ticket out. A ticket to the taste of a lifestyle she desired for herself. So, she let herself fall for him and she went with him. All the way from home and settled into Kildare. The perfect trophy wife with the perfect life.

He gave her everything she wanted, whatever she needed. All to easily with a bat of her lashes and a pout on those lush lips. Whatever she wanted, her husband provided.

Until that wasn’t enough anymore. He wasn’t enough.

Because when she met Rafe, she’d realized the heavy weight of the opulent diamond ring on her finger. Feeling like a shackle tying her to a man and a life she doesn’t know she wants anymore. At least not with the man she calls her husband.

Rafe Cameron had swept her off her feet with ease. Catching her in his line of sight during a gathering, at the island club on Figure 8. Watching the sweet, little trophy wife getting tugged around like a show pony and hanging off the arm of his long-time friend.

Brandon’s pride and joy. His perfect wife, who he catered the world to.

All tight-fitting clothing, stratospheric heels, sultry smiles and gazes — behind sensually done up, lips and eyes. Decadent glitz and glamour that he knows doesn’t belong to this island.

She stood out like a sore thumb. Nothing like the Figure 8 Divas’ or the Pogue Princesses’ he’d been accustomed too. No.

He wanted her, wanted a taste.

Like a child envious of their friend getting a better toy.

A ring on her finger he could easily replace and a weak display of ownership wasn’t going to stop him. And when they caught each other’s gazes for the first time— he knew then and there. They’d end up tangled within each other, one way or another.

He’d make sure of it.

It didn’t take much to he corner her in an empty hall at the gathering; trapping her against the wall and his brick of a body. His darkened gaze staring into her flustered eyes. His lips twisted in a sick, smirk as he dominated her presence with ease. He’d known his hook had sunk in when her faux-lashes fluttered at his lips grazing lightly against her jaw, landing against her ear with a whispered ‘you ever need anything — come find me, minx.’ Slipping his business card in her hand.

He bit the lobe of her ear softly next to her diamond stud, before pulling back and excusing himself with a quick pinch to her chin. A soft threat of ‘don’t make me come find you’ falling from his lips before he excused himself with a triumphant smirk. Leaving her trembling and confused against the wall, inner thighs soaked through her lace panties as she struggled to catch her breath.

It didn’t take long for her to seek him out. Thoughts twisting in her mind at how terrible it’d be. Being unfaithful to a man so good to her. But her desire to uncover the enigma that Rafe was, overweighed everything.

She felt weak, he made her feel weak.

Because after that fateful night she found herself calling him, listening to him when he told her over the line he’d known she would call him. Telling her to come to him. She’d ended up at the front doors of Tannyhill and being welcomed into a whole new world.

One she never wanted to leave, and he doesn’t think he’ll let her.

That’s why she finds herself tangled in his sheets whenever her husband’s gone. Or giving excuses to her absence with small lies of ‘meeting up some girls at the island club’ or ‘going to the beach.’ Making herself scarce in her husband’s life as she fell hard, and deep into Rafe Cameron’s world.

She doesn’t think she’d have it any other way. Especially not with the way he leaves her legs shaking, body quivering and head fucked out — every moment he gets his hands on her.

Tonight is no different.

“He doesn’t know, huh?” Rafe said with twisted, glee layered in his voice. His large hands running up the smooth expanse of her damp back. Taking in her beautiful complexion that he yearns to mark up.

She never lets him.

Only giving him small pieces of herself before she leaves him and goes back to her happy life. The one he’s determined to wreck. Anguished every time he finds her wrapped up in her husband, leaving him wounded and lonely every time she leaves him.

“Doesn’t know that his wife is my stupid, little fucktoy, huh? That she begs me to ruin this sloppy, little cunt any chance she gets?” He mocked, his weight pressing against. Hips flush against her ass as she whines and moans into his ruined sheets.

Gripping them and almost tearing into them with her manicured nails. Her makeup ruined and staining them along with arousal. Whining at his words as she feels the guilt settle in her chest. “Oh, don’t start whining,” he started, bringing his large palm and landing it on her ass with a sickening smack. Watching the skin jiggle under his movements as he grinds his soaked dick into her messier cunt.

His paradise is right in between her plush thighs.

He’s feeling mean tonight. He wants her to understand. Wants her to feel the affliction she cast upon him with the way she disregards him. Leaves him yearning for her.

“You know it, you fucking know you belong to me.” He said with conviction in his voice, leaning his body over her arched one as he lands a hand next to her face and the other wrestles her arm to lay right against her back. “You know that, you’ll always come back to me. I’m the only one who knows how to shut that little brain off and get this pussy fucking, right.” His voice was gruff, desire and hurt etched in every syllable that dripped from his lips.

Like stings of passion that burn her and scar her. Marking her as his and less as her husband’s with everyday that passes.

“That fucking bitch —doesn’t know you like I do, alright? The only thing he did right was getting to you first and bringing you right to me.” He sneered, moving his hips once more and starting up the rhythm that left her ruining his expensive sheets. “Doesn’t matter, I’m going to make sure you end up right where you belong.” His hips were digging into her now, loud squelches filling the room as their bodies met once in that beautiful dance of pleasure —only they seem to know how to offer each other.

“One day,” Rafe started up again after a long, drawn groan. Bringing his hand to grip her hair at the base of her skull. Tugging harshly till she was looking up at him, watching with satisfaction as her tear-filled eyes landed on him. Pretty face contorted in ecstasy at the way he was plowing into her. Their mixed arousal dripping beneath and puddling in a sloppy mess on the sheets.

“One, fucking day —m’gonna make sure he catches us. Gonna show him who’s bitch, you are.” He was so mean. So ready to use that guilt she had built inside her to his advantage, knowing she would argue and fight back against him. Whines of refusal falling from her swollen lips as her brows furrowed at him.

“Shut up,” his voice was gruff, bringing his free hand to grip her jaw as his torso stood up straight. Her hand coming to lay flat against the headboard, nails scratching as her other hand reached back and gripped into his strong thigh, digging her nails in as she struggled to maintain any semblance of stability from his harsh thrust.

“Open,” his voice was full of command. Watching as her gorgeous lips parted and tongue stuck out like his dumb, little puppy. Faux-lashed clumped with tears and makeup falling down her face in messy streaks. Eyes looking up at him like he owned the world. And to her — her did. Her owned her world.

But she wouldn’t let him know that.

Rafe gathered the wetness in his mouth, bringing the hand that was gripping her jaw and wrapping it around her neck harshly. His hand tangled at the base of skull — tugging her harder and forcing her body to bend back deeper. He leaned over, letting the string of spit fall from his lip and land directly onto her waiting tongue. Watching as it dripped down onto her chin.

Spitting harshly against her mouth once more, before bending down and consuming her lips with his own. His tongue dominating her as her nails dug harsher into his thigh and her knees struggled to keep her upright with the way her body was shaking. The only thing keeping her in place, being him. Physically and metaphorically.

When he pulled back, a string of their combined saliva kept them connected, only breaking with he smacked her cheek harshly with the hand that was around her throat and dug his hips harder into her. She could feel him breaking her in, molding himself into her. Pressing against her g-spot and cervix.

Claiming her from the inside.

Rafe wondered how his ‘friend’ would feel knowing his cum burns the woman he calls his wife, from the inside almost everyday. Wonders if Brandon knows he’s licking it out of her when he buries his face inbetween her thighs.

He’s determined to ruin them, ruin what they have.

He’s selfish. A selfish, selfish man. But it’s not like she stops him any way — she’s just as selfish as he is.

He knows eventually this will blow up, they’re getting too comfortable. Too messy. But they don’t care. Because when it all eventually blows up, and Rafe will ensure it does.

He’ll sweep her away and lock her down with a rock of his own. Bigger, better, more expensive. More definitive.

But for now, he bids his time. He can wait.

After all,

He loves being her dirty little secret.

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a/n: listen … i might even write an alternate sad one where she leaves Rafe all heartbroken and whiny .. we’ll see

taglist: @littlelamy @slut-4-gojo @nemesyaaa @rafesangelita