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suguslve · 4 months ago

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thinking about loser (perv) idia .ᐟ

♰ pairings. idia shroud x shy fem! reader

♰ warnings. suggestive content. loser! idia at first but then he becomes a pervert (yum). noncon (?). pantie sniffing and stealing. stalking. uhhh idk what else. mdni

♰ word count. 1.5k

♰ a/n. i was on idia brainrot these past few weeks and decided to whip a lil something up ;) enjoy reading and lmk your thoughts!

— loser! idia who kept his head down, ignoring everyone, why does crowley need ALL housewardens to attend to a stupid meeting in the first place? he was busy uttering curses in his mind when your sweet voice broke the ruckus. his head snapped up just slightly, just enough to steal a glance at you. w-wait were you stuttering?! and you weren’t just stuttering—you were anxiously fidgeting with your hands too!! are you nervous because of the meeting? because of someone? or—wait—what if you’re nervous because you hate crowds too?! oh god, did he just find a fellow social avoidance expert??

— loser! idia who actually wanted to approach and talk to you, but obviously he’s a coward. yeah, nope, definitely NOT happening. he’d literally rather fight a final boss solo with no revives than approach you right now. and so, as the meeting adjourns, he quickly and quietly leaves the room (with his heart racing wildly and his face burning).

— loser! idia who desperately tried to avoid you at every turn—but it was like the universe had other plans. no matter where he tried to hide, there you were. his carefully scouted, ultra-secret, 1000% normie-free safe zones? infiltrated. by you. of all people. what kind of cruel RNG was this?! ugh, this was turning into a way bigger side quest than he signed up for. his usual gaming hideout behind the school? you were there, sitting on the steps, quietly reading. the abandoned hallway near the library? you showed up, looking just as startled to see him as he was to see you. EVEN THE ROOFTOP—his ultimate last resort—had somehow become your preferred quiet spot?! and the worst part is sometimes, he’d see you there… and instead of running, he’d hesitate. just for a second. because—ugh, he’d never say it out loud—but you weren’t loud like the other normies. you weren’t disruptive. you were just… there. quiet. fidgeting. existing in your own little world.

— loser! idia who finally gained the courage to approach you. oh but trust him, it wasn’t like he wanted to—he just… happened to be in the same spot as you (again), and instead of immediately running in the opposite direction like usual, he somehow convinced himself to stay. which, might have been a huge mistake because the second your eyes flickered up to meet his, his brain immediately started screaming. abort, abort, abort— but you’d already seen him. his escape route had been cut off. and he just stood there, shifting on his feet, pulling at the strings of his hoodie like it was a lifeline. his mouth opened. closed. opened again. say something, you coward!

— loser! idia who mumbled the weakest, most pathetic greeting ever known. “u-uh…yo?” his voice cracked, and he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole there on the spot. that was so cringe!! seriously?! ‘yo’?! what am i a generic background delinquent?! while he was having a crisis, you chuckled softly before greeting him in return. idia.exe has stopped working.

— loser! idia who didn’t know how this “friendship” between you even started. at first he avoided you like the plague and the next thing he knew, you two were hanging out like it was normal. at first, he figured you were just another shy person suffering through NRC, but the more you talked, the more he realized—wait, you actually get him?! you didn’t just tolerate his rants about games, anime, and how normies were a blight upon existence—you joined in. he slowly let his guard down around you. he didn’t even mean to, but you were just… easy to talk to. there were no expectations, no forced small talk, no annoying social pressure. if you two sat in silence, it wasn’t awkward. if you talked, it wasn’t exhausting. before he knew it, he was complaining about gacha rates and actually making jokes without wanting to crawl into a hole and die afterward.

— loser! idia who slowly fell for you and your little quirks. but hey! it’s not like you can blame him. you were stupidly cute in ways that made his heart do dumb things. you matched his energy—avoiding crowds, hiding from normies, nerding out over random things. you got excited about the smallest details, and somehow, somehow, you even made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the biggest loser in existence.

— loser! idia who slowly became possessive and obsessive over you. it started as just worry, okay?! totally normal levels of concern. but then his mind started spiraling—what if something bad happened to you and he wasn’t around?! NRC was a literal villain academy, full of shady, power-hungry weirdos, you can’t trust any of the students here—well, aside from him and ortho but that’s besides the point! you—with your big doe eyes and painfully sweet personality—were basically walking around with a giant “EASY TARGET” sign on your back. you can be easily taken advantage of!

— loser! idia who swore to be your protector. it wasn’t even a choice at this point—it was a necessity. so what if he wasn’t exactly the heroic, sword-wielding, normie-approved protector type? he had brains. he had strategy. and most importantly—he had a highly advanced AI-powered little brother who could do background checks on anyone who so much as looked at you funny. he might be a loser, but if he notices someone teasing or making you uncomfortable, he’ll reluctantly step in. “H-hey, back off, normie… uh, I mean, don’t be rude, or whatever…” then he drags you away like a panicked introvert escaping a social interaction.

— loser perv! idia who set up cameras all over ramshackle dorm to “keep an eye out on you.” it wasn’t stalking! no no, this was just preventative security measures! NRC was dangerous, okay?! a totally defenseless, magicless, too-trusting person like you? living alone in a rundown, ghost-infested dorm? that was basically asking for trouble. anyone with half a brain would’ve done the same! (right?)

— loser perv! idia who watches you 24/7 watching everything. the way you got ready for bed. the way you sighed and stretched when you thought no one was looking. the way your shirt slipped off your shoulder sometimes. and oh god, when you absentmindedly played with the hem of your skirt or chewed on the end of your pen? yeah. he was so beyond saving. okay so maybe he checked the cameras a little too often. maybe he kept the feed open on one of his monitors at all times. maybe he watched you even when there was no actual danger. but it’s not like he was doing anything weird! just… making sure you weren’t lonely!

— loser perv! idia who became utterly obsessed with you. he’d watch you from afar, his eyes tracing every movement, every smile. his room was filled with pictures of you, some taken without your knowledge. his obsession grew darker, more twisted. his obsession became all-consuming. he hacked into your social media accounts, reading your private messages and learning more about you than you ever intended to share. he’d watch you through hidden cameras he installed in your room, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction as he invaded your privacy.

— loser perv! idia who snuck into your dorm one night as you were asleep. he watched you for hours, his heart racing with excitement and fear. oh how he wanted to touch you, to feel your skin against his. but he knew he couldn’t risk waking you up. instead, he roamed your room. touching your things, smelling the perfume you use, looking at the plushies you kept, but it wasn’t enough, so he made his way to your bathroom and went through all your dirty clothing. sniffing the clothes you wore, rummaging for ages until he found it. your soiled panties. he took them all, moaning as he smelt your scent on them. god he can feel himself growing hard right now. he took your underwear and kept them all on the pocket of his hoodie. but before he left he made sure to give you one look, and well maybe a peck on your cheek, but it’s not like you’d find out, right?

— loser perv! idia who rushed to his dorm room and locked it to make sure no one would disturb him.

— loser perv! idia who watched various amounts of hentai that night, imagining it was you writhing and moaning under him. he pulled off his sweats and boxers and let his cock free. he hissed as the cold air hit his cock—then, he pulled your panties from where he had kept them. one hand sniffing it, and the other jerking himself off. he was so close, he could feel it, and so he took your underwear and jerked himself with it. oh fuck, he couldn’t take it anymore.

— loser perv! idia who couldn’t help himself from moaning your name over, and over until he came hard. his mind filled with dirty thoughts of defiling your innocence. god, he can’t wait to ruin you. he jerked himself faster, and faster until he came. his fluids soiling your panties. his breathing was labored, cheeks flushed. ah shit, this wasn’t gonna cut it, he needed more.

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 suguslve writes #sugu blurbs 🪽#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #idia shroud #idia x reader #twst idia #idia x reader smut #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #idia smut

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digiflora · 1 year ago

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𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 '𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐎𝐓!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🍭 )

he just can't get enough of your pussy !

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | 🚨🚨🚨SMUT !! (f!reader receiving oral & fingering), uhhh pussydrunk hsr men who are MUNCHES <3, i think this is the first time writing smut on this blog so hereee we gooo, uhh clit slapping (only once thanks blade), overstim, nothin toooo crazy, ever so slight dom!reader for sampo (that man needs to get topped so bad) + you call him a pervert idk, squirting (shoutout luocha 😙)

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ I HAVENT WRITTEN SMUT IN AGESSSS SO PLS BE NICE AND TO MY MUTUALS SORRY THT THIS SHOWS UP ON YOUR DASHBOARD LETS STILL BE FRIENDS PLS 😭

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 JING YUAN.

this is a dangerous game when he's involved

as a general, jing yuan is very accustomed to being in charge, of taking charge and ensuring that things happen

and as a man who cares more about the hours outside of his work than during, who can blame him for wanting to commemorate each time that he comes home to you?

he's always been very giving as a lover, that much is true. and as a man with a tendency to be more on the... spontaneous side, you were no stranger to a quickie in a slightly less than convenient location. he just couldn't bear to leave you uncared for, after all.

so really, you should have expected that he would quite literally stoop to this level. one minute he was walking through the front door, you calling out a greeting to him from the sink as you washed some dishes.

and the next minute, he was on his knees behind you, your skirt flipped up over your hips and panties tugged to the side as he began to eat you out with some type of renewed fervour.

it had you slapping one hand over your mouth, the other white-knuckled as you hold on for dear life to the kitchen counter. your legs were very quickly turning to jelly due to his ministrations, the feeling of his tongue fucking into you rendering you unable to form sentences.

and even worse than the sensation was the sound of it- every lick and slurp reverbating through the empty room, every squelch of your pussy making you go a shade darker as jing yuan moaned, the bastard, and delved even further into your pussy. your hips pushed against him, his hands snaking their way around your thighs to keep you pinned in place while he ate you out like his life depended on it.

you bit back a squeal as you felt his tongue flick against your clit before running back through your folds, circling the hole before fucking back into you.

"fuck, i love this pussy so much," he moaned out, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh as he came up for air momentarily. "love comin' home to you every day- you taste so good, so good f'me-"

any attempts at muffling your noises were extinguished as you let out a sob, tears welling up from the pleasure, making you fold over so that your torso rested against the counter. your legs were spread wide by now, giving jing yuan all the access that he needed.

he relinquished one of your thighs in favour of using his fingers to pump into you, curling them just right against that spongy spot that had you shaking like a leaf, feeling the pressure build inside you much quicker than you anticipated.

"fuck- fuck- i can't, 's so good-" you were babbling now, trying in vain to break free or push his head away, the pleasure bordering on too much. it was comically easy how ineffective your attempts to hinder him were,

"you can." his voice was some soothing reprieve, and the warmth of his hands squeezing against your hips helped to ground you as he otherwise brought you to the edge.

your thighs were trembling, barely supporting your weight and you could feel your release fast approaching, though something was holding you back.

"cum f'me." jing yuan's rasped voice is what finally coaxed you to let go, to let that string snap with a final cry as you collapsed fully against the countertop.

always diligent, jing yuan continued to eat you out, making sure not to miss a drop as you spasmed against him, hips finally stilling after you ride out your high.

"bastard." your voice is muffled, head resting on your forearms as your regain your strength. jing yuan merely chuckles, placing a kiss with his wet lips to your inner thigh again, one last jolt of pleasure running through you before he stands, fixing your clothes for you.

"but you love it."

you give him a halfhearted kick in the shin.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 SAMPO.

he's the type of man who's best in small doses

the amount of times you get annoyed while he's on another tangent or trying to scam you sell you a product is..... a bit more than infrequent

but there's ways around that

"sampo, do you ever shut up?"

ironically enough, you asking him that made him do just that, pausing for a second to lick his lips as his smile widened, cheshire-like, as you watched the cogs turn in his head.

"no, but for a small standalone price-"

if youuu put a buck in my cup i will shut the fuck up (sorry)

"sampo."

the man cackles, slinging an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to his side.

"sorry, doll, but a man has to make a living somehow."

you turn to glare at him now. you really weren't in the mood.

"either shut up or i'll make you."

you watch as his smile drops for just a second, his pupils dilating ever so slightly at the underlying hint of what's to come. and bless his heart, the man decided to push his luck.

approximately five minutes later, you were grinding on his face. the only noises that he really made now were occasional grunts and moans as you rocked back and forth, and you decided that you liked him much better when he wasn't talking.

the man with a silver tongue had his uses, after all.

he was so eager to please, too- from what you could tell with the way he was eating you out. if it weren't for the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling, you would be convinced that he was enjoying it more than you. his moans reverberated around your clit as his tongue flicked over and sucked it, leaving you keeling over and your thighs quaking against the sides of his head.

every moan you let out had him eating you out with a renewed fervour, almost desperate for you to reach your high. you let your hand snake into his hair, getting a full handful before yanking on it, hard. sampo whines from the sensation, and you almost miss the muffled plea for you to do it "again".

his fingertips are digging into your thighs almost painfully, keeping you seated firmly against him (not that you were going to move, anyway).

your eyes land on the tent in his boxers, and an idea pops into your head as you snake your hand past his abdomen to pull his waistband down, letting his cock spring free. it looked painfully hard, the tip already leaking pearls of precum, and you spat in your hand before starting to jerk him off, ever so slowly.

he whined again at the pressure, his hips thrusting up to meet your hand, desperate for any sort of friction.

"you're getting off to this, you pervert?" you laughed as he shook his head desperately, still plunging his tongue deep inside you even as his hips bucked wildly. he was already so close, it almost made you laugh.

you yourself were beginning to feel the coil deep within you start to tighten, a telltale sign that your own orgasm was approaching.

"so if i were to just... stop, you wouldn't mind?" to emphasise your point, you loosened your grip on him, grinning to yourself as he whined pathetically.

"hm... that's what i thought."

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 BLADE.

blade's mean when he eats you out

he's one of those who eats it for his own pleasure, and whether it's until you orgasm once or multiple times, he's not stopping until he's satisfied, overstimulation be damned

"you still alive there?" the man between your thighs snickers at your fucked-out state, not even able to form a sentence to answer him.

how many times had he made you cum by now? six? seven? you'd lost count long ago, and you don't think it mattered much to blade. sometime after the second one, it began to dawn on you that his goal wasn't to simply make you cum then call it a day.

"c'mon, eyes on me." you squeal at the sensation of his hand slapping down against your clit, the raw flesh stinging for a few moments before his hand smooths it over, soothing the skin.

"you can handle one more, right?" you lift your head weakly to meet his ravenous eyes, somehow even hungrier than when he had first started peeling your clothes off. the look in his eyes made a shiver run down your skin, and you gave him a sheepish nod.

"attagirl."

blade's one to keep you on your toes, never knowing just what to expect from him. he ducks his head down, leveling it with your still pulsing hole, and you gasp as you hear, then feel him spit on it.

there's a blunt intrusion as he sinks two of his fingers into you, knuckles deep, crooking them just right to hit that spot inside you. your leg twitches as an automatic response, making the man snicker again.

"you're so sensitive," he coos, and you hide your embarrassed face with your arm. "i bet if i just..." your body seizes up as you cum, again, more sudden than you ever expected as blade presses harder against you. a strangled moan flies out of your mouth, writhing at the pressure.

he's nice enough to let you ride out your high, pathetically grinding your clit against his palm, whimpering at the tenfold sensitivity and the little aftershocks wracking your body.

and when you're finally breathing normally again, you hear his voice break you out of your stupor.

"one more?"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.

what he lacks in experience is made up for doubly in enthusiasm

because let's be real, this man is too busy with the silvermane guards to have enough time to be dating and fucking around

but for you? he'd make the time. and he'd learn how to get you off while he's at it, too

"so if you just, slide your fingers in, slowly." gepard follows your instructions dutifully, and even then you still winced at the feeling of his large fingers stretching you out, the slightest of burns already kicking in.

"like this?" he looks up at you, all puppy dog eyes, so eager to learn. his face was too innocent for what he was doing.

"mhmm." you smile down at him, his face rested against one of your thighs as his gaze returns to your cunt, glued to the way it stretches around his digits. he feels you pulse against him and he shudders, trying to hold back for your sake. he was here to learn what you liked, after all.

"and then you kind of... curl them a bit? and move them too." his ministrations are soft to begin with, and even there's still an unmistakeable squelch each time he pumps his fingers into you, the lewdness of it all making him turn pink.

"does that feel good?"

"y-yeah, so good, baby."

he's so close to your pussy, you can feel each time he breathes, his little pants hitting your clit, making you even wetter. the anticipation of it all had you practically squirming where you lay propped up on your elbows, watching him.

his eyes are still transfixed on you, mouth hanging open at the way your hips rolled ever so slightly, meeting each of his shallow thrusts.

"you see that bit above? if you lick it, it'll feel really good f'me." gepard nods, all too eagerly leaning forward, licking a thick stripe from your hole to the clit with his tongue, before starting to flick his tongue against it gingerly.

"yeah, fuck, you're good at this." he hums against you, starting to move his tongue with a little more fervour, his hand still pumping into you. he always had been a fast learner.

he settles into a rhythm, one that has you steadily building the pressure in your core, soft moans escaping your lips.

"just like that, fuuuck," you pant out, letting your head roll back and your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling. it's then when gepard decides to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking ever so deliciously to make your toes curl.

you let out a particularly loud moan at the sensation, one that your ever so perceptive boyfriend latches onto, increasing the pressure in a way that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"geppie m'gonna cum- don't stop-" he obeys your every word, slurping at your cunt with a hunger that sends you over the edge. you convulse, hips raising off of the mattress to buck against his face, his fingers curling around your quaking thighs.

"use my face, darling," he murmurs into you, so eager to please. the way the ridge of his nose bumps against your clit helps you ride out your high, grinding against his mouth a few more times before you finally flop back down against, the bed, limbs turning to jelly.

"no fucking way that was your first time eating someone out." gepard merely grins, wiping some of your juices off of his face before crawling up the bed to meet you.

"'m sure it was, now give me a kiss."

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 LUOCHA.

your life will be CHANGED after this man eats u out for the first time i just know it

like.. he's got skills. he's a certified munch i know this in my SOULLLLL

"just relax, honey, let me take care of you." his velveteen voice is what has you finally lying back, letting the tension in your body leave you as his nimble fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, sliding them off of your legs ever so tantalisingly.

he groans at the string of slick that stays connected to them- no surprises there as you had been sat on his lap kissing him for the past half an hour- and you covered your face in embarrassment.

"don't go shy on me now, hm?" you peek between your fingers, catching the glint of his emerald eyes, the way his smile widens when he makes eye contact with you from his place between your legs.

"hi, pretty."

"hi."

"we can go as slow as you want, okay? tell me what you're comfortable with." luocha's thumbs rub gentle circles into your thighs, coaxing you to open them and let him settle more comfortably.

"do you want me to touch you?" you nod, watching as luocha's smirks almost imperceptibly.

"use your words, darling." you whine, kicking at him lightly.

"quit teasing me."

"do you want my fingers or my tongue?"

"luocha!" he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee.

"i'm sorry, love, you're just so cute when you're flustered." he presses another kiss to your thigh now, lips inching upwards ever so slowly, holding himself back as he waits for your go-ahead.

"could you... eat me out?" your face feels so warm just from asking the question, but the nerves are quelled as luocha smiles brightly, shifting his weight on his hips to lower himself down closer to you.

"gladly."

there's a few seconds of anticipation, of his breath hitting your core before another entirely new sensation- something wet and muscled sliding against you as luocha licks a flat stripe through your slit. his tongue sharpens, flicking against your clit as he pulls away after his experimental first taste.

you're already feeling something inside you coil in anticipation, and it tightens even more at the blissed out expression on luocha's face.

"you taste divine, my love."

and then he's delving in for more. your usually so composed boyfriend lying flat on his stomach, buried facefirst in your pussy and eating it like a man starved.

the slurping and squelching noises are obscene, echoing off of the walls and filling up the room along with your wails and moans. your head was in the clouds right now, too fucked out to even scream his name. and he hadn't even put his tongue in yet.

as if reading your mind, luocha finally shifts his attention to your hole, his tongue circling it, teasing it open, before he plunges in along with his fingers, the size of them and his fingertips grazing against your g spot bringing you to the verge of tears.

everything just felt so good, and he was going to make you cum hard and fast.

the regular pressure of an impeding orgasm kept building up, more than it regularly would, until it became an entirely new sensation altogether.

"w-wait, baby, i'm gonna pee or something-"

luocha pauses, pupils blown wide with lust as he meets your gaze.

"you're not, honey, just trust me, alright?"

and because it's him, because you'd do just about anything for him right now if it meant continuing to feel this good, you lie back down, feeling him bring you back to that point again.

his fingers are drilling into you at an almost inhuman pace, the sound enough to make you cum, let alone the sensation. his soft lips suction around your clit, warm tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you squeal and throw your head back.

"'m gonna-" luocha nods encouragingly, his nose bumping against your clit in a way that has your vision go white as you writhe in ecstasy. there's an odd feeling, of something shooting out of you, and you look down to see a spray of clear liquid. luocha's fingers rub against your pusy frantically, making you writhe again, prolonging your orgasm as he milks you for every last drop.

you finally come back down to earth, vaguely feeling a warm wet cloth wipe away at you, at the mess you had made.

and luocha's gazing at you with nothing but adoration, a pussydrunk smile on his lips.

"aren't you glad you trusted me, love?"

𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist

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thewriteadviceforwriters · 11 months ago

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25 Prose Tips For Writers 🖋️✨ Part 1

Hey there!📚✨

As writers, we all know that feeling when we read a sentence so beautifully crafted that it takes our breath away. We pause, reread it, and marvel at how the author managed to string those words together in such a captivating way. Well, today I'm going to unpack a few secrets to creating that same magic in your own writing. These same tips I use in my writing.

But before I begin, please remember that writing is an art form, and like any art, it's subjective. What sounds beautiful to one person might not resonate with another. The tips I'm about to share are meant to be tools in your writer's toolkit, not rigid rules. Feel free to experiment, play around, and find what works best for your unique voice and style.

Power of Rhythm 🎵

One of the most overlooked aspects of beautiful prose is rhythm. Just like music, writing has a flow and cadence that can make it pleasing to the ear (or mind's ear, in this case). Here are some ways to incorporate rhythm into your writing:

a) Vary your sentence length: Mix short, punchy sentences with longer, flowing ones. This creates a natural ebb and flow that keeps your reader engaged.

Example: "The sun set. Darkness crept in, wrapping the world in its velvet embrace. Stars winked to life, one by one, until the sky was a glittering tapestry of light."

b) Use repetition strategically: Repeating words or phrases can create a hypnotic effect and emphasize important points.

Example: "She walked through the forest, through the shadows, through the whispers of ancient trees. Through it all, she walked with purpose."

c) Pay attention to the stressed syllables: In English, we naturally stress certain syllables in words. Try to end important sentences with stressed syllables for a stronger impact.

Example: "Her heart raced as she approached the door." (Stronger ending) vs. "She approached the door as her heart raced." (Weaker ending)

Paint with Words 🎨

Beautiful prose often creates vivid imagery in the reader's mind. Here are some techniques to help you paint with words:

a) Use specific, concrete details: Instead of general descriptions, zoom in on particular details that bring a scene to life.

Example: Instead of: "The room was messy." Try: "Crumpled papers overflowed from the waste bin, books lay spine-up on every surface, and a half-eaten sandwich peeked out from under a stack of wrinkled clothes."

b) Appeal to all five senses: Don't just describe what things look like. Include smells, sounds, textures, and tastes to create a fully immersive experience.

Example: "The market bustled with life. Colorful fruits glistened in the morning sun, their sweet aroma mingling with the earthy scent of fresh herbs. Vendors called out their wares in sing-song voices, while customers haggled in animated tones. Sarah's fingers brushed against the rough burlap sacks of grain as she passed, and she could almost taste the tang of ripe oranges on her tongue."

c) Use unexpected comparisons: Fresh similes and metaphors can breathe new life into descriptions.

Example: Instead of: "The old man was very thin." Try: "The old man was a whisper of his former self, as if life had slowly erased him, leaving behind only the faintest outline."

Choose Your Words Wisely 📚

Every word in your prose should earn its place. Here are some tips for selecting the right words:

a) Embrace strong verbs: Replace weak verb + adverb combinations with single, powerful verbs.

Example: Instead of: "She walked quickly to the store." Try: "She hurried to the store." or "She dashed to the store."

b) Be specific: Use precise nouns instead of general ones.

Example: Instead of: "She picked up the flower." Try: "She plucked the daisy."

c) Avoid clichés: Clichés can make your writing feel stale. Try to find fresh ways to express common ideas.

Example: Instead of: "It was raining cats and dogs." Try: "The rain fell in sheets, transforming the streets into rushing rivers."

Play with Sound 🎶

The sound of words can contribute greatly to the beauty of your prose. Here are some techniques to make your writing more musical:

a) Alliteration: Repeating initial consonant sounds can create a pleasing effect.

Example: "She sells seashells by the seashore."

b) Assonance: Repeating vowel sounds can add a subtle musicality to your prose.

Example: "The light of the bright sky might ignite a fight."

c) Onomatopoeia: Using words that sound like what they describe can make your writing more immersive.

Example: "The bees buzzed and hummed as they flitted from flower to flower."

Art of Sentence Structure 🏗️

How you structure your sentences can greatly affect the flow and impact of your prose. Here are some tips:

a) Use parallel structure: When listing items or actions, keep the grammatical structure consistent.

Example: "She came, she saw, she conquered."

b) Try periodic sentences: Build suspense by putting the main clause at the end of the sentence.

Example: "Through storm and strife, across oceans and continents, despite all odds and obstacles, they persevered."

c) Experiment with sentence fragments: While not grammatically correct, sentence fragments can be powerful when used intentionally for emphasis or style.

Example: "She stood at the edge of the cliff. Heart racing. Palms sweating. Ready to jump."

Power of White Space ⬜

Sometimes, what you don't say is just as important as what you do. Use paragraph breaks and short sentences to create pauses and emphasize important moments.

Example: "He opened the letter with trembling hands.

Inside, a single word.

'Yes.'"

Read Your Work Aloud 🗣️

One of the best ways to polish your prose is to read it aloud. This helps you catch awkward phrasing, repetitive words, and rhythm issues that you might miss when reading silently.

Edit Ruthlessly ✂️

Beautiful prose often comes from rigorous editing. Don't be afraid to cut words, sentences, or even entire paragraphs if they don't serve the overall beauty and effectiveness of your writing.

Study the Masters 📖

Please! Read widely and pay attention to how your favorite authors craft their prose. Analyze sentences you find particularly beautiful and try to understand what makes them work.

Practice, Practice, Practice 💪

Like any skill, writing beautiful prose takes practice. Set aside time to experiment with different techniques and styles. Try writing exercises focused on specific aspects of prose, like describing a scene using only sound words, or rewriting a simple sentence in ten different ways.

Remember, that developing your prose style is a journey, not a destination. It's okay if your first draft isn't perfect – that's what editing is for! The most important thing is to keep writing, keep experimenting, and keep finding joy in the process.

Here are a few more unique tips to help you on your prose-perfecting journey:

Create a Word Bank 🏦

Keep a notebook or digital file where you collect beautiful words, phrases, or sentences you come across in your reading. This can be a great resource when you're looking for inspiration or the perfect word to complete a sentence.

Use the "Rule of Three" 3️⃣

There's something inherently satisfying about groups of three. Use this to your advantage in your writing, whether it's in listing items, repeating phrases, or structuring your paragraphs.

Example: "The old house groaned, creaked, and whispered its secrets to the night."

Power of Silence 🤫

Sometimes, the most powerful prose comes from what's left unsaid. Use implication and subtext to add depth to your writing.

Example: Instead of: "She was heartbroken when he left." Try: "She stared at his empty chair across the breakfast table, the untouched coffee growing cold."

Play with Perspective 👁️

Experiment with different points of view to find the most impactful way to tell your story. Sometimes, an unexpected perspective can make your prose truly memorable.

Example: Instead of describing a bustling city from a human perspective, try describing it from the point of view of a bird soaring overhead, or a coin passed from hand to hand.

Use Punctuation Creatively 🖋️

While it's important to use punctuation correctly, don't be afraid to bend the rules a little for stylistic effect. Em dashes, ellipses, and even unconventional use of periods can add rhythm and emphasis to your prose.

Example: "She hesitated—heart pounding, palms sweating—then knocked on the door."

Create Contrast 🌓

Juxtapose different elements in your writing to create interest and emphasis. This can be in terms of tone, pacing, or even the literal elements you're describing.

Example: "The delicate butterfly alighted on the rusted barrel of the abandoned tank."

Use Synesthesia 🌈

Synesthesia is a condition where one sensory experience triggers another. While not everyone experiences this, using synesthetic descriptions in your writing can create vivid and unique imagery.

Example: "The violin's melody tasted like honey on her tongue."

Experiment with Sentence Diagrams 📊

Remember those sentence diagrams from school? Try diagramming some of your favorite sentences from literature. This can give you insight into how complex sentences are structured and help you craft your own.

Create a Sensory Tour 🚶‍♀️

When describing a setting, try taking your reader on a sensory tour. Move from one sense to another, creating a full, immersive experience.

Example: "The old bookstore welcomed her with the musty scent of aging paper. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight piercing the high windows. Her fingers trailed over the cracked leather spines as she moved deeper into the stacks, the floorboards creaking a greeting beneath her feet. In the distance, she could hear the soft ticking of an ancient clock and taste the faint bitterness of old coffee in the air."

Use Active Voice (Most of the Time) 🏃‍♂️

While passive voice has its place, active voice generally creates more dynamic and engaging prose. Compare these two sentences:

Passive: "The ball was thrown by the boy." Active: "The boy threw the ball."

Magic of Ordinary Moments ✨

Sometimes, the most beautiful prose comes from describing everyday occurrences in a new light. Challenge yourself to find beauty and meaning in the mundane.

Example: "The kettle's whistle pierced the quiet morning, a clarion call heralding the day's first cup of possibility."

Play with Time ⏳

Experiment with how you present the passage of time in your prose. You can stretch a moment out over several paragraphs or compress years into a single sentence.

Example: "In that heartbeat between his question and her answer, universes were born and died, civilizations rose and fell, and their entire future hung in the balance."

Use Anaphora for Emphasis 🔁

Anaphora is the repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses or sentences. It can create a powerful rhythm and emphasize key points.

Example: "She was the sunrise after the longest night. She was the first bloom of spring after a harsh winter. She was the cool breeze on a sweltering summer day. She was hope personified, walking among us."

Create Word Pictures 🖼️

Try to create images that linger in the reader's mind long after they've finished reading. These don't have to be elaborate – sometimes a simple, unexpected combination of words can be incredibly powerful.

Example: "Her laughter was a flock of birds taking flight."

Use Rhetorical Devices 🎭

Familiarize yourself with rhetorical devices like chiasmus, antithesis, and oxymoron. These can add depth and interest to your prose.

Example of chiasmus: "Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country." - John F. Kennedy

Even the most accomplished authors continue to hone their craft with each new piece they write. Don't be discouraged if your first attempts don't sound exactly like you imagined – keep practicing, keep experimenting, and most importantly, keep writing.

Your unique voice and perspective are what will ultimately make your prose beautiful. These techniques are simply tools to help you express that voice more effectively. Use them, adapt them, or discard them as you see fit. The most important thing is to write in a way that feels authentic to you and brings you joy.

Happy writing, everyone! 🖋️💖📚 - Rin T

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

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falesten-iw · 8 months ago

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It’s strange when “democracy” means people have to choose between Ivanka’s dad and Ella’s mom, as if that’s supposed to feel empowering. Sure, two bad options don’t feel great, but hey, at least there are options. In some countries, you’d be lucky to get even one choice. And in others? They don’t get elections at all, just a permanent leader who shows up like it’s just another day on the clock. But here democracy feels like a two for one special with a free side of disappointment.

Now that Ivanka’s dad has won. Yes Yes my friend !! Abo Ivanka has won!! And here we are, looking at this system and thinking, “Was this even a choice?” It’s like being asked to pick between plain oatmeal and soggy cereal for breakfast. Sure, it’s technically a choice, but nobody’s excited about it. The two main parties hog the spotlight so completely, they’ve turned “options” into a choice between “slightly bad” and “absolutely dreadful.” And heaven forbid a third-party voice shows up, because here, you need a 50% popularity rating just to get a seat at the grown-ups’ table.

By now, picking a president feels like choosing between the flu and food poisoning. The two big parties are so close in their love for big donors, it’s like watching rival soap operas funded by the same network. We call it “democracy,” but it feels like a rigged game, with mega-donors pulling the strings while the rest of us are just the audience, sitting here with popcorn, hoping the plot somehow gets better.

Sure, many lean toward the Democrats, thinking they’re the “better” choice. But from where I’m sitting, especially as a Palestinian, neither side looks promising. Take Gaza: Democrats have left it in ruins, like a bulldozer at a sandcastle competition, with 80% of the infrastructure leveled and 90% of the people displaced. Now Ivanka’s dad is in charge, and, honestly, we’re past worrying about escalation, because there’s nothing left to escalate to. At this rate, they have already broken the records for destruction and the number of martyred, but the looming fear now is if there’ll be any Gaza left to talk about.

For Palestinians, for Gaza, for much of the world, this isn’t “democracy”; it’s a magic show where they tell you to pick a card, but no matter what you choose, it always comes back to the same card: disaster.

And now, winter’s arrived in Gaza. The nights there? Let’s just say, they’re colder than the stare you’d get from a #### who’s been asked to pay $12 or 15 for a black coffee. My family, like so many others, is living in a tent, a “tent” being a generous word for a few sheets trying to pass for walls. The wind comes in from every side, and huddling under thin blankets in this weather is like fighting a snowstorm with a paper towel. The cold bites to the bone, and there’s no escape; it’s like nature’s way of reminding us we’re still here, exposed.

If you can, please consider donating. Even the smallest help means warmth on a freezing night, a bit of comfort in the middle of a relentless winter. It’s a glimmer of hope for my family and trust me, it’s more welcome than soggy cereal ever could be.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead. Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 250 SEK is equivalent to 25 dollars, and 506 SEK equals 50 dollars and so on.

Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link

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see-arcane · 14 days ago

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There is so much to love about Sinners, but one of my favorite parts was the running theme of flipping the table on static storytelling tropes. And my favorite out of that pile?

Christianity is not the Magical Universal Good That Keeps the Monsters at Bay, and Hoodoo—or, nodding to cinema history, [INSERT ANY NON-CHRISTIAN FAITH HERE]—is not the Weird and Wicked Supernatural Scary Evil, Only Here for Curses and Pearl-Clutching Taboos.

In Sinners, Christianity isn’t held up as an evil in itself, but it is held up as itself, specifically as it actually came to be when it was introduced (forced) onto those people who never asked for it, didn’t want it, and had gods and cultures of their own which were largely crushed underfoot by colonialism and doctrines that generations were forced to choke down to the point that modern descendants now follow and spout a religion their ancestors had to have slaughtered or beaten into them. Remmick, an Irish vampire revealed as being old enough to have been a young man in an era before Ireland had been overtaken by Christianity, at the cusp of having it forced on them while their land and rights were stolen, can recite the Lord’s Prayer verbatim. Those words not only do nothing against his vampiric nature, but he admits the words give him comfort, even as he still hates the men who forced those words upon him and his father.

That scene coupled with Sammie’s interaction with his own father in the church was so beautifully and insidiously vindicating. Because Remmick and Sammie’s father are both leading congregations. They both have these groups of people following along, reciting what they want those groups to recite—even as they both come from groups that this religion was forcibly grafted into, they stand in places of power and command, and therefore it has become good! They both want Sammie to use his musical gift for their purposes, not his own wishes. They both disregard his fear and pain as they lay hands on him before staring crowds who wait to see him bow to their will.

Vampirism is the greater existential terror, especially as it is under Remmick’s rule. A potentially eternal undeath that traps the spirit and has one single controlling mind puppeteering their body and will. But Christianity as it’s framed in the reality of Sammie’s life is shown explicitly not to be the savior of the story, having so many of the same bones as the nightmare he barely escaped with his life.

Give up your gift and your desires and your free will to the Church, son, it’s the only way! Be a lesson for my followers and then we can acknowledge your torn face and the blood on your clothes and the absence of your cousins! Drop the guitar and give yourself to worship and leave behind all the evil sin that is joy not taken from sitting and reciting the Bible! Drop the guitar, son!

Then we turn to the Hoodoo and to Sammie’s musical conjuring. Annie’s magic and expertise is the only reason anyone survived the night as long as they did, and the only reason anybody was lucky enough to die as a human being. Her mojo bag saved Smoke’s neck from Stack twice, whereas everyone who went outside and got jumped by Remmick—or, in Grace’s case, rushed out in a literal blaze of glory to stake her turned husband—who might have worn a cross or been some manner of churchgoer, all got taken out by the vampires. Sammie’s power is not part of a Christian magic, but as the film points out, it is sacred. Those strings and his song pulled reveling spirits from the past and the future to dance with the present. That passion, that talent, that joy, that humanity, was so magnetic that it cast a spell...

…and it did so in what his father and many aghast others would deem a den of sin.

Sinful because of dance. Because of games at a table. Because of sex had for the sake of pleasuring each other—notably, each time with a miserably married woman, both getting to experience lovers who actually wanted them to enjoy themselves (sorry about that climax, Stack), rather than rote marital rutting for its own joyless sake. Because of nocturnal jubilation, separating oneself from the labors of life and the constriction of ‘polite and upstanding’ society.

Raucous joy is sin.

Faiths other and older than Christianity are sin.

Refusing to let yourself be absorbed into a coercive collective, no matter how well it sings or friendly its smile, is sin.

Sin, sin, sin. The movie sins in this way, and so many glorious others, if only because these things which are not evil are painted with the label of ‘sin.’ Things that ‘are not done’ in a civilization choked by white supremacy and an increasingly puritanical Christian lens that leans deeper and deeper into disdain for empathy while championing strict control and obedience to patriarchy, bastardizing itself even as its original messages of love and goodwill are stretched so far and thin as to be nonexistent.

It’s sad to know how timely this story is. Here we are in the 21st century, strangled by conservative overreach on so many monstrous levels. But the story of Sinners does exist and it is being played like a loud and joyous song. A thousand thanks to Ryan Coogler for doing this all so artfully and so powerfully. I honestly can’t recall the last time I’ve seen such a thing on screen, if I’ve seen it at all. Here’s to more of it.

#had some Thoughts and Feelings and now you get a text wall about it #sinners #my writing #sinners spoilers

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agaypanic · 8 months ago

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To Love a Monster (Emmett Cullen X Human!Reader)

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Request Something! | AO3

Kinktober Day 31: Monsterfucking

Summary: Emmett never thought that he’d fall in love with a human. It’s too dangerous, there’s so many things that could go wrong. But when you look at him with those pleading eyes of yours, how could he ever say no?

A/N: happy halloween!! i know today’s literally the last day of october but i swear ill get the other kinktober fics done and posted. im finally getting medicated so i think that’ll help with my procrastination/lack of inspiration lmao emmett cums inside but reader does NOT get pregnant with a hybrid freak like bella did

C/W: unprotected p in v sex, interspecies relationship (human and vampire), soft dom!emmett, emmett trying to not literally break you, slight pain kink

***

It was so wrong, being with Emmett. It was dangerous, the amount of power he had over you without even trying. He could kill you, drain you dry without a second thought.

But you didn’t care. You loved him, and he loved you. He made sure that was known by telling you a million times a day and by being extremely gentle with you. Sometimes, he treated you like you were glass, which annoyed you every now and then. But when you were with Emmett, who had extreme strength, you might as well be glass.

Sometimes, Emmett was scared to be with you. He didn’t want to hurt you, and he didn’t want to accidentally lose his resolve around you. But when you looked at him, eyes full of want and wandering hands somehow warming his stone-cold body, he could never refuse you.

“God, you feel so good, babe.” Emmett groaned as he stared up at your naked form bouncing on his cock. Although he liked to be in control, he’d occasionally let you take the lead. If he was feeling generous, he’d even let you tie him up like he was now.

Emmett thrusted up into you, and your hips stuttered. “So big, Emmett.” You sighed, splaying your hands out on his broad chest to keep yourself steady as you kept riding him. “Makes me feel- ah! So full.”

Your boyfriend kept fucking into you, but it wasn’t enough for him. There was only so much he could do without his hands.

“Wanna touch you.” He complained, tugging at his restraints half-heartedly, knowing they’d snap if he actually used force.

“Where, Em?” You asked teasingly. One of your warm hands left his chilled chest to grope your breast. “Here?” Or…” Slowly, your hand trailed down your stomach, inching closer to where you and Emmett met. Two fingers ghosted your clit, and you clenched around Emmett’s hard cock at the sensation. “Maybe here?”

While you continued riding and teasing yourself, Emmett’s eyes were glued to you. You looked so damn perfect, he wanted to be the one touching you and making you whine the way you were now.

Sensing he was getting frustrated, you leaned close to Emmett. “Do you wish you could touch me, honey? Fuck me and tease me until I’m creaming all over your cock?” Emmett let out a moan so guttural it sounded like a growl. You smiled, knowing you were about to get what you were really wanting. “Is that what you want, Emmett?”

He answered by ripping the rope that was holding him to shreds, freeing his wrists so he could finally get his hands on you. Emmett grabbed your hips and flipped you so you were the one underneath him before thrusting in and out of you like a jackhammer.

Emmett half expected you to start yowling in pain from the force of his thrusts and his iron grip. But instead, you let out an endless string of moans and locked your legs around his vast body so he wouldn’t get away.

“So -ah, so fucking, fuck, good!” You were quickly losing your sense, becoming overwhelmed by Emmett stretching your cunt and practically slamming into your cervix. It just hurt so good.

“You’re so tight.” He hissed, fangs coming out in the midst of his heavy lust. “And so wet for me.” He dipped his head down to rest in the crook of your neck. His lips ghosted over your pulse point, your pumping blood spurring him on. Very lightly, Emmett dragged his pointed teeth over your skin. Not enough to make you bleed, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. “And you smell…” He took a deep breath, sighing as he reluctantly pulled away from you and sped up his thrusts. “Fucking delicious.”

Feeling close, you reached down to rub your clit, but your hand was quickly smacked out of the way. Emmett wanted to be the one to make you come.

He rubbed your clit in a fast circular motion, his other hand holding your hip with enough force to not end up breaking it. You’d likely have a bruise that he would surely baby you over.

It wasn’t long before your orgasm hit, and Emmett grinned down devilishly at you as your eyes rolled back. “That’s right, babe. Cream all over my cock.”

You did just as he said, orgasm prolonging as Emmett continued his ministrations to reach his own peak. Soon enough, he was painting your walls with his cum, fucking it deeper and deeper into you. As you both came down from your highs, Emmett slowed his thrusts. But he didn’t stop them. Instead, he decided to keep fucking you at a snail’s pace until you were ready to get absolutely wrecked again.

“That was…” You took a deep breath to collect yourself, letting out an airy laugh. “Wow.”

Emmett smirked, leaning down to kiss you deeply. “If you thought that was good, wait until you become a vampire. We wouldn’t leave my room for a week.”

***

Twilight Taglist: @wedfan2 @natashamaximoff-69 @pink-hufflepuff

Emmett Cullen Taglist: @fuckshitslover

#agaypanic #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #emmett cullen #emmett cullen x reader #emmett cullen x reader smut #tw monsterfucking #pain k!nk #twilight #twilight x reader

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duskidolsmut · 3 months ago

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Blonde College Slut Fucked in Anal Gangbang

Shin Yuna is a college student living on the edge, a stunning blonde who uses her beauty and provocative attitude to dominate the campus. Known for manipulating others in exchange for favors, she plays a dangerous game of seduction and power, always coming out on top—or so she thinks. When a dorm party becomes the stage for a plot hatched by someone close to her, Yuna finds herself thrust into an abyss of pleasure and chaos that tests her limits. Between betrayals, forbidden desires, and brutal consequences, she finds that the control she once cherished may slip from her grasp. Now, with secrets lurking and hungry eyes following her, the campus will never be the same—and neither will Yuna.

Tags: Hardcore, Anal, Deepthroat, Creampie, Facial, Spanking, Slut, College Girl, Cheating, Cuckold, Big Dicks, Threesome+, Party, Dorm Room, Drunk, Stoned, Revenge Fuck, Public Humiliation, Screaming, Crying, Begging, Slutty, Broken, Cumslut, Virgin Anal, Forced, Aggressive, Dirty Talk, Cum Everywhere, Sweaty

The sun was beating down on the college courtyard, but no one there seemed to care about the heat. Not when Yuna strutted past as if the world were her own private stage. At 1.70 m tall, her long legs cut through the air like knives, highlighted by a short black skirt that barely covered the bare essentials. The cropped top showed off her tiny waist, and the generous cleavage gave a teaser of what she knew everyone wanted to see. Her blonde hair, now straight and shiny, swayed with each step, and her large, slanted eyes seemed to be hunting prey in the crowd of college students. Her fair skin glowed as if she had stepped out of an Instagram filter, and her full lips, painted a shocking pink, curved in a little smile.

Yuna wasn't just pretty — she was an admitted slut, the kind who knows the power she has and uses it without mercy. It wasn't about love or passion; for her, everything was a game of trade. A quick blowjob behind the library building? Sure, but only if the guy bought her a snack afterwards. A little help in the hallway bathroom? Great, as long as it was a little favor like "give me the answers to the test." She didn't give anything away for free, and the guys at college had already learned that — or at least they tried to learn, because Yuna was too good at stringing people along.

Today, she was in hunting mode. She stopped near a group of freshmen who were smoking e-cigarettes, leaning against a bench. The strawberry smell of the vape mixed with the sweat of the hot day, and the guys stopped talking the moment she arrived, their eyes glued to her like flies on honey.

"So, boys, how's your day going?" Yuna tossed her hair to the side, leaning her body just enough to let her cleavage speak for itself. Her voice was sweet, but with a tone of someone who was always in charge.

One of the guys, a skinny guy with a backwards cap named Riku, choked on his vape and coughed before answering:

— O-okay, Yuna. What about yours?

She laughed, a short, mocking sound, and took a step closer, almost touching him.

—It’s boring, you know? I need someone to cheer me up. — Her feline eyes roamed the group, stopping at each one as if assessing their potential. — Who here has something to offer me?

Another guy, Kenta, braver and with a piercing in his eyebrow, gave a crooked smile and lifted his chin.

—I have an energy drink in my backpack. I’ll give it to you if you… I don’t know, let me film you dancing a little.

Yuna arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms in a way that only highlighted her bust.

— An energy drink? Do you think I’m cheap, Kenta? — She giggled, but approached him, lightly brushing her shoulder against his chest. — Give me the energy drink and another twenty dollars and I'll dance for your camera. But just for a minute, okay, I'm not a free stripper.

Kenta hesitated, but her look — that mischievous glint that promised more than she was going to deliver — made him give in.

— Okay, okay, I'll pay! — He was already reaching for his wallet, his fingers shaking with anxiety.

— Good choice, kitty — Yuna winked, taking the energy drink from his hand and opening it with a snap. She took a slow sip, letting a drop run down the corner of her mouth just to tease, and wiped it with her finger while staring at the group. — So, where's my stage?

Riku, still a little dumbfounded, pointed to the bench.

— This is fine, right? Just... do it, Yuna.

She climbed up onto the bench with the agility of someone who had done it a thousand times, her skirt riding up dangerously as she moved her hips to a rhythm that didn't need music. The guys were drooling, Kenta already had his cell phone in his hand filming, and she laughed inside at how easy it was to dominate them. A minute later, she jumped down, reached for the money and pocketed the twenty dollars without even saying thank you.

— Thanks, guys. It was good, but I have other things to do. — She turned her back, already aiming at the next target in the courtyard, but not before throwing one last comment over her shoulder: — If you want something more… special, just bring something worth it, okay?

Later, in the hallway of the humanities building, she pressed a senior named Hiro against his locker. The guy was tall, with messy hair and an air of someone who thought he could take anyone to bed. Yuna knew he had a reputation as a player, but she also knew he had a new motorcycle — and she was dying to go for a ride.

“Hey, Hiro,” she purred, playing with the string on his sweatshirt. “I hear you’ve got a brand new Kawasaki. Take me for a ride?”

Hiro gave a smug smile, clearly thinking he was in control.

“It depends, Yuna. What can I get in return?”

She got closer, her chest almost touching his, and whispered in his ear:

— I'll make you cum so fast you'll think you're dreaming. But only after the ride, and you have to let me lead the way.

He laughed, but the sparkle in his eyes gave away that he was already hooked.

— Deal, you bitch. But you're not going to string me along, okay?

— Me? String me along? — Yuna patted his face, laughing. — Only if you don't do your part, handsome.

As she walked off down the hallway, Yuna was already thinking about her next move. She wasn't one to get attached, or to give anything away for free. Every touch, every promise, was a coin in her pocket or a favor up her sleeve. The campus was her playground, and the guys? Just pieces on the board.

Yuna was at the height of her reign on campus, but not everything was just a parade and exchanging favors with silly freshmen. There was a side of her that no one saw—a dirty little secret that she kept with a mischievous smile on her pink lips. This secret had a name: Hector. He was Lia's boyfriend, one of the few friends Yuna kept out of convenience. Lia was all proper, glasses, the kind of girl who thought the world revolved around fidelity and good grades. Little did she know that her boyfriend, a 6'1" guy with messy black hair and a burning gaze, was completely crazy about the blonde slut she called her friend.

Heitor and Yuna had started this thing a few weeks ago. He was different from the other guys she manipulated — he wasn't some dumb jerk who fell for it easily. No, Heitor had a fire in his eyes, a raw energy that made her heart race. He didn't ask for favors; he took what he wanted. And Yuna? She loved it. She loved the way he grabbed her, his big hands squeezing her thin waist or pulling her blond hair hard. He was aggressive, almost wild, and she, who was always in control, found herself moaning too loudly at those moments.

The two of them had a place: the bathrooms of an abandoned college block, a forgotten corner where the smell of mold and peeling paint mixed with the heat they exuded in the air. It was perfect — no one went there, and the risk of getting caught only made it all the more enjoyable. Today, Yuna was leaning against the wall of the main hallway, pretending to use her cell phone while she sent him a message:

— "Old bathroom, 3pm. Don't keep me waiting, you dog."

Heitor replied in two seconds:

— "I'm coming, you bitch. Better get ready."

She laughed to herself, putting her cell phone in the pocket of her short skirt. She passed Lia on the way, giving a quick wave and a "Hi, beautiful, see you in class!" while the poor girl smiled back, without suspecting anything. Yuna almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

When she arrived at the abandoned bathroom, the place was silent, only the sound of a dripping pipe echoing off the cracked walls. She barely had time to lean against the filthy sink before she heard his heavy footsteps. Heitor walked in, his black t-shirt stuck to his sweaty body — he had probably run to get there —, and his brown eyes were already fixed on her as if she were a piece of meat. — You came fast, huh — Yuna teased, crossing her arms to lift her bust in her tight top. — Do you miss me that much?

He didn't answer with words. In two steps, he was in front of her, one hand grabbing her wrist and the other already going up under her skirt, squeezing her thigh hard enough to leave a mark.

— Shut up, Yuna — he growled, his breath hot on her neck. — You've been teasing me all day, now take it.

She laughed, but the sound turned into a moan when he turned her back against the sink, pulling her blond hair with a jerk.

— That's it, Hector, show me what you've got — she said, her voice shaking with excitement. — But don't crush me too much, huh? I still have to show up in one piece later.

— In one piece? — He slapped her ass, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom. — You're going to leave here limping, you whore.

Yuna bit her lip, her feline eyes shining in the reflection of the broken mirror in front of her. She loved this brutality, the way he dominated her without asking for permission. It was the opposite of the guys she had been fooling around with — Hector didn't negotiate, didn't offer anything in return. He just took, and she let him, because, fuck, he was too good.

He pushed her against the sink, the cold metal hitting her waist as he ripped her panties with a single pull.

"That's what you want, right?" he murmured, already undoing his belt with one hand while the other held her neck. "To text me while I'm with Lia, driving me crazy…

"Of course, you idiot," Yuna retorted, arching her back towards him. "She doesn't give you that, does she? The good Lia doesn't even know where to put her hand." Hector laughed, a low, dangerous sound, and entered her hard, eliciting a scream from her that she tried to muffle with her hand.

“Tell me more about her,” he said, his movements aggressive, almost punishing. “It makes me even angrier.”

“She… oh, fuck… she thinks you’re a saint,” Yuna managed to say between moans, her nails scratching the sink. “While you’re here fucking me like an animal.”

He pulled her hair again, forcing her to look at the mirror.

“Look at your face, Yuna. That’s what you really are. A worthless slut.”

She smiled at her reflection, her lips trembling and her eyes glazed over.

“And you love it, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t come running every time I call.”

His pace got faster, his hands marking her fair skin with red. It was dirty, fast, and unromantic—just the way she liked it. When they were done, Yuna was panting, her blonde hair stuck to her sweaty face, her skirt wrinkled, and her panties on the floor. Heitor straightened up, glancing at her as he fastened his belt.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?" he said, but his tone was more of a warning than a request.

Yuna laughed, picking up her torn panties and throwing them into her backpack.

— Relax, dog. I won't ruin my favorite toy. — She winked at him, already composing herself. — But next time, bring me an energy drink. This isn't free.

He shook his head, leaving without saying anything else. Yuna stood there for a second, fixing her hair in the broken mirror and smiling to herself. Hector was the kind of risk that was worth it — and she knew she would call him again, just to feel that adrenaline rush again.

What started as a few casual encounters in the abandoned bathrooms became an almost daily routine. He was addicted to her, and Yuna knew it — the way he grabbed her with those big hands, pulling her blond hair tightly and thrusting like it was the last day of his life, was all she needed to feel alive. They met every afternoon, sometimes even twice in the same day, in the same moldy bathroom, with the sound of her moans echoing off the cracked walls.

— Damn, Heitor, you're getting good at this — she said, panting, as he pressed her against the sink.

— Shut up and moan, you bitch — he replied, squeezing her neck the way she liked.

It was dirty, it was rough, and she loved every second of it. But what Yuna didn't know was that the secret was starting to leak. Lia, Heitor's good girlfriend, wasn't as dumb as she seemed. She had noticed the messages he deleted too quickly, the way he got nervous when Yuna showed up around. One day, she followed him to the abandoned block and heard everything — the moans, the slaps, the provocations. Lia kept quiet, but inside she was boiling. That blonde bitch was going to pay dearly.

The key moment came one sunny afternoon in the cafeteria. Yuna was sitting with Lia, pretending to be the perfect friend, while chewing on a snack with those full lips that everyone wanted to kiss. She tossed her blonde hair to the side and gave a sweet smile, the kind that didn't match the slut she was inside.

"Oh, Lia, you're so cute, you know?" Yuna said, tilting her head like a doll. "Heitor is lucky to have such a nice girlfriend. I could never be like that, I'm too... free, you know?" Lia smiled back, but her eyes were cold, almost cutting. She already knew everything — she had seen the two of them leaving the bathroom last week, Yuna adjusting her wrinkled skirt and Heitor with his belt still half open. But she wasn't going to give Yuna the pleasure of confronting her in front of everyone. Not yet.

"Yeah, Yuna, you're really... free," Lia replied, her voice too calm. "But sometimes freedom comes at a price, right?" Yuna laughed, thinking it was just a friendly chat.

— Sure, but I always find a way to hold others accountable, not myself. — She winked, getting up from the table with a sway that made half the cafeteria turn their heads. — See you later, beautiful!

Little did she know that Lia was already plotting. The good girl had a vengeful side that no one knew about. That same night, she called some guys from the gym class — some brutes who already had a reputation for not taking any nonsense lying down. The leader was Gael, a six-foot-tall closet with shaved hair and a lip piercing that gave him a mean look. Lia was direct with him:

— Yuna needs to be taught a lesson. She thinks she can walk all over everyone, but I want you guys to show her that she's not so untouchable.

Gael gave a crooked smile, scratching his chin.

— The blonde bitch, huh? I've seen her shaking her hips. What do you want us to do?

"Make her feel what I felt," Lia said, her eyes shining with anger. "But don't tell me the details. Just... put an end to her posing."

"Deal," Gael replied, already imagining what was going to happen. He called three more guys from the group, all as big as him, and started planning. Yuna was going to get a surprise, and it wasn't going to be the kind she could negotiate with a smile or a little favor.

In the meantime, Yuna went on with her life, whispering provocations in the ear of some random freshman in the hallway.

— If you give me some money, I'll let you look up my skirt for five seconds — she said, laughing as the boy blushed.

But she had no idea what was coming. Lia had turned the tables, and Gael's thugs were already watching her, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

The last few days on campus were full of buzz. A party at the dorm was on the way, and everyone knew it was going to be the event of the semester. The seniors were already stocking up on cheap beer and vodka, the amateur DJs were testing the speakers, and the drug dealers were on duty making sure there would be weed for everyone who wanted to get high. It was the kind of night that promised chaos, and Lia saw this as the perfect opportunity to put her plan into action. She was tired of pretending she didn't know about Heitor's escapades with Yuna, and that party was going to be the stage where the blonde slut would fall from her pedestal.

The day arrived, and the dorm turned into a hell of flashing lights and loud music. The electronic music was blasting the eardrums, the air was thick with weed smoke and the sour smell of spilled booze. College students danced like there was no tomorrow, some already making out in the dark corners, others sprawled on the couches with red eyes and a silly smile. It was the perfect environment for Lia's plan.

Yuna entered the party as if she were the queen of the whole damn thing. Her black dress was an attack: it clung to her slim, curvy body, very short, with a neckline that went down almost to her belly button and slits on the sides that showed off her slim waist and white thighs. Her blonde hair was straight, shining like liquid gold under the colored lights, and her red lips, painted with a scandalous lipstick, seemed to scream "catch me if you can". She started dancing in the middle of the crowd, her heels clicking on the floor, her hips shaking to a rhythm that made the guys drool and the girls roll their eyes.

“So, you idiots, who’s going to give me a drink today?” she shouted, throwing her hair back and doing a spin that lifted her dress enough to drive everyone crazy.

A guy with green hair, already half drunk, raised a glass of beer.

“I’ll give it to you, Yuna, but dance with me first!” She laughed, taking the glass and downing half of it at once, the liquid running down her chin on purpose.

“Dance with you?” She came closer, rubbing her body against him for a second before moving away. “Only if you learn how to move that skeleton, pretty boy.”

Lia was in the corner, watching everything with a glass of soda in her hand to hide it. She waited for the right moment and approached, a fake smile plastered on her face.

“Yuna, my favorite!” — she called, holding a bottle of vodka and a lit joint. — Let's party together today, have a sip with me!

Yuna turned to her, still shaking her hips, and took the bottle with a crooked smile.

“Lia, you at a party? You're turning into a person, huh!”

She took a long sip, the vodka burning her throat, and laughed. — Do you want to be a slut like me? Just ask for a lesson.

Lia laughed along, but her eyes were calculating every move. She passed the joint to Yuna.

“Who knows? Smoke it, relax with me.”

Yuna took a deep drag, exhaling the smoke slowly while her brown eyes sparkled.

“This is life, Lia. You should give up that saintly vibe more often.”

She took another sip of vodka, her head already starting to spin.

Lia didn't stop. She stayed there, filling Yuna with booze and weed as if it were a mission. After about thirty minutes, Yuna was laughing out loud, tripping on her heels and speaking more slurredly.

“Let’s play something different,” Lia said, holding her arm. “There’s a game in the back room. Are you up for it?”

Yuna, high and confident, tossed her hair back.

— Game? I'm the game, Lia. Take me there, I'll finish off these idiots.

Lia led her through the crowded hallway to a door in the back. Yuna still thought she was in charge, her dress riding up as she walked, the smile of someone who always came out on top. The room was cramped, with an old couch, empty cans on the table, and a strong smell of smoke. Gael and the thugs were already there, waiting, but Yuna didn't even notice the danger. Lia closed the door, and the click of the lock was lost in the loud music.

“Ready for the game, Yuna?” Lia asked, her tone colder.

Yuna fell onto the couch, crossing her legs and laughing.

“Sure, you idiot. What is it? Truth or dare? I win anything with my eyes closed.”

Lia took a step back.

“Let's see. These guys will show you what it's like.”

Yuna looked at the thugs and laughed again, still thinking she could fool everyone.

— You guys? Are you going to try to catch me? Come on, I can handle anything.

Lia left without saying anything else, leaving Yuna there, drunk, stoned and full of herself, while Gael and the others approached.

The private room was pitch black, with only the weak light from an old lamp casting shadows on the moldy walls. Yuna was sprawled on the couch, her torn black dress hanging from her body like a rag, her straight blonde hair falling over her sweaty face. She was still dizzy from the vodka and weed that Lia had slipped into her, but the crooked smile on her red lips showed that she still thought she was in charge. The four brutes — Gael, Ian, Luan and Andrew — were surrounding her, their eyes shining with a mixture of anger and lust that she had underestimated at first.

“So, you big guys, is this what you call a lesson?” Yuna said, her voice slurred but full of provocation. She crossed her legs, her dress riding up higher, and laughed. “You’re going to have to do better than that to impress me.”

Gael, the six-foot tall man with the lip piercing, stepped forward and smiled a smile that made her stomach do a little knot—but she wasn’t going to let him see that.

“You talk too much, blondie,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the air. “Let’s see if that mouth can handle the rest.”

She laughed again, tossing her hair back in an exaggerated gesture.

“Go ahead, big guy. I’ve dealt with guys bigger than you.”

That’s when things changed. Gael unbuckled his belt with a snap, and when his pants fell off, Yuna blinked twice, her smile faltering for a second. His cock was huge—thick, hard, and with a throbbing vein that seemed more like a threat than an invitation. She swallowed hard, but tried to hide it by lifting her chin.

— Okay, it's... reasonable — she muttered, but her voice was less firm.

Ian, the dark-haired man with the shaved head, chuckled softly and opened his pants too, revealing another monster that made her feline eyes widen a little. Luan, the tattooed blond, and Andrew, the skinny man with the wild look, followed suit, and suddenly Yuna was staring at four giant cocks, each one bigger than the last, all hard and ready for her. Her confidence began to crack like thin glass.

“Fuck, what's this?” she said, trying to laugh, but the sound came out nervous. “You're kidding, right?”

“Kidding?” Luan retorted, grabbing her hair tightly and pulling her head back. “You'll see who's kidding here.”

Before she could answer, Gael grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand, while the other tore the rest of her dress, leaving her in only her panties. Ian slapped her thigh, hard enough to leave a red mark, and she cried out, more in shock than pain.

“Hey, calm down, you sons of bitches!” she tried to pull away, her heart racing. “This isn’t fair!”

— Fair? — Andrew laughed, approaching with that crazy look. — You fucked Lia, now we fuck you. Simple.

Yuna struggled, but their strength was too much. Gael turned her face down on the couch, her face sinking into the stinky fabric as he ripped off her panties with a yank. She felt his cock brush against her ass, and the size of it made her tremble for the first time.

— Go slow, damn it! — she screamed, but her voice came out more like a request than an order.

— Slow? — Gael growled, thrusting in all at once with a force that drew a hoarse scream from her. He was too big, too aggressive, and she felt her entire body protest as he pumped without mercy.

Ian held her arms, keeping her in place, while Luan knelt in front of her, forcing his cock into her mouth.

— Suck it, bitch — he said, giving her a light slap to reinforce it. She tried to resist, but his size filled her mouth, and she gagged, her eyes watering.

Andrew and the other guy were on either side, their hands grabbing her breasts, squeezing them tightly as they laughed at the muffled moans she let out. It was an attack from all sides — Gael thrusting from behind, Luan from the front, and the other two marking her fair skin with scratches and slaps. Yuna lost her breath, her head spinning, her body struggling to get used to the invasion.

But then the alcohol and marijuana really started to take effect. The initial pain, the shock, everything started to mix together in a warm haze. Gael's cock, which before seemed to tear her in half, was now hitting a spot that made her legs tremble in a way she couldn't ignore. She moaned loudly, the sound muffled by Luan's cock, and the guys noticed the change.

— Look, the bitch is enjoying it — Ian said, laughing as he slapped her ass again.

Yuna tried to deny it, but her body didn't lie. Her moans were getting longer, hoarser, and she started moving her hips against Gael, almost without wanting to. The pleasure was coming in waves, mixed with the adrenaline and the confusion of the drink.

“You... bastards…” she managed to mumble, but her tone was weaker, almost surrendered.

Luan pulled her hair, forcing her to look at him as he thrust into her mouth.

“That's it, moan for us. Show us what you're really like.”

Gael sped up, each thrust making the couch creak, and Yuna felt a heat rising through her body, the alcohol transforming their aggression into an ecstasy she hadn't expected. Andrew switched places with Luan, thrusting his cock into her mouth while Luan moved back, and Ian took Gael's place. It was a brutal rotation, but she was starting to lose herself in it, her eyes glazed over, her lips trembling, her body surrendering to the rhythm.

“Fuck, you guys… you’re animals…” she moaned between one gasp and another, but now there was a sparkle in her feline eyes, a twisted pleasure that she could no longer hide.

When Gael came back to fuck her again, she was already arching her back, her moans echoing in the room as the four of them used her nonstop. The alcohol had turned everything upside down—what started as a lesson for her turned into a chaos of pleasure that she no longer knew how to stop.

Yuna was in the middle of the hurricane, her body sweaty and trembling, her blond hair stuck to her face as the four brutes—Gael, Ian, Luan, and Andrew—continued their attack. She was already dizzy, the alcohol and marijuana transforming the whole thing into a crazy mix of pain and excitement. The couch creaked with each thrust, and her moans were coming out hoarse, almost uncontrollable. But the guys weren't satisfied yet — they wanted more, and the next step would break her in a way she never imagined.

Gael, the big guy with the lip piercing, pulled her by the hips, turning her face down again. His cock, still hard and wet, brushed against her ass, and Yuna laughed, thinking it was just another round.

— You want to do it again, big guy? — she said, her voice shaking but trying to keep her composure. — Go for it, I can handle it.

He gave a crooked smile, holding her buttocks with his big hands and spreading her open without ceremony.

— You think you've seen it all, huh, bitch? — he growled, spitting on his hand and rubbing it on his cock. — Let's see how you deal with that virgin ass of yours.

Yuna froze, her feline eyes widening in fear for the first real time.

— Wait, what?! — she screamed, trying to turn around, but Ian grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the couch. — No, no, I've never done that, you sickos! Get out of here!

Luan, the tattooed blond, laughed out loud and slapped her ass hard, the sound echoing in the room.

— Relax, blondie. Everyone has a first time. And yours will be with us.

She struggled, her heart racing, fear running up her spine as Gael positioned his cock at the entrance of her asshole. It was too big, too thick, and she knew it was going to hurt like hell.

“Please, no, not that!” she begged, her voice coming out higher, almost tearful. “I’ll do anything else, but not that!”

“Anything?” Andrew, the skinny guy with the wild look, came closer, rubbing his cock in her face. “Then suck here while he fucks you, you whore.”

Gael didn’t wait for an answer. He forced his way in, the head of his cock pushing against her tight asshole, and Yuna screamed loudly, her entire body tensing with the pain. It was like a hot iron was ripping her in half, the pressure unbearable as he tried to force his way in.

“Fuck, it’s so fucking tight!” Gael grunted, gripping her hips tighter. “Relax your ass, bitch, or it’ll be worse.” — It hurts, you sons of bitches! — Yuna screamed, her nails scratching the couch, tears streaming down her eyes as she tried to pull away. — Stop, I can't take it!

Ian laughed, keeping her arms pinned.

— Can't take it? Didn't you rule everyone? Now cry, go on.

He pushed in further, and the entrance was hell — her virgin ass resisted, but his cock was relentless. After a few seconds of struggling, the head passed, and Yuna gave a hoarse scream, her body shaking as he forced the rest of it inside. The pain was raw, throbbing, and she felt every inch of that monster stretching her like never before.

— It's fucking tearing me apart! — she moaned, her voice broken, her face buried in the couch as tears wet the fabric. — Take it off, please!

— Take it off? — Gael laughed, starting to move slowly, each movement eliciting a moan of pain from her. — You're going to ask for more, just wait.

Luan grabbed her hair, pulling her head back and shoving his cock in her mouth again.

— Cry with this in your mouth, bitch. Swallow while he fucks your ass.

She choked, Luan's cock filling her throat as Gael thrust into her ass, the pain mixing with the heat of the alcohol that was still running through her veins. It was too much—her body was in shock, but little by little, something started to change. The pain, which at first was unbearable, was mixed with a strange sensation, a tingling that went up her legs and made her tremble in a different way.

— Fuck, she's starting to like it—Ian said, laughing as he let go of her wrists to grab her breasts, squeezing her nipples hard.— Look how her ass is blinking now.

Yuna moaned loudly, the sound muffled by Luan's cock, and her body, almost unintentionally, began to relax. The alcohol was softening her resistance, and Gael's cock, which had previously felt like a punishment, now hit a spot inside her that sent shocks of pleasure through her body.

"You... bastards..." she murmured, but her voice was weaker, her hips moving a little against him.

"That's it, bitch, grind on that cock," Gael said, slapping her ass that made her scream again, but this time with a different tone. He sped up, thrusting deeper, her asshole slowly giving in as she moaned louder.

Andrew switched places with Luan, shoving his cock in her mouth while Luan moved back, waiting for his turn.

"My cock wants a piece of that blonde too," Luan said, rubbing his cock against her ass as Gael pulled out.

When Luan entered, there was another wave of pain — his cock was thicker than Gael's, and her already sensitive asshole protested again.

"Fuck, it won't fit!" Yuna screamed, but the scream turned into a long moan when he forced it all inside, stretching her even more.

"Yes, it will fit, you whore," Luan growled, thrusting hard while holding her hair like a rein. "You're going to swallow every inch."

The pain was there, raw and throbbing, but the pleasure was growing with it, the alcohol turning everything into a hot mess. Yuna felt her asshole burning, but also throbbing, her body getting used to the invasion while the guys laughed and cursed her. Ian was next, thrusting with a brutality that made her see stars, and Andrew finished the round, his cock thinner but faster, pounding deep while she moaned nonstop.

"It feels good now, right, bitch?" — Andrew said, slapping her face as he thrust. — Tell her you want more!

— I… fuck… want… — Yuna moaned, the words coming out almost unintentionally, her body surrendered, her asshole broken but throbbing with pleasure.

They continued, taking turns in her ass, each one more aggressive than the other, until she no longer knew where the pain began and the excitement ended. The couch was soaked in sweat, her blonde hair a mess, and her moans filled the room as the four of them used her without mercy.

Yuna was at her limit, her body sweaty and marked, her virgin asshole now broken by the huge cocks of Gael, Ian, Luan and Andrew. The couch creaked as if it was going to fall apart, and her moans were coming out hoarse, uncontrolled, as the four brutes thrusted without stopping. She had already given in to the mix of pain and pleasure, the alcohol and marijuana making her head soft, but now things were going to another level — she was about to break for good.

Gael was back in her ass, his thick cock stretching her to the max as he held her hips with brute force.

“Fuck, this ass is swallowing everything now,” he grunted, thrusting deep, each thrust making her body tremble. “You like this, don’t you, you slut?”

Yuna tried to respond, but all she could come out was a loud moan, her mouth half open as Andrew shoved his cock down her throat again.

“Tell me, bitch!” Andrew said, slapping her face so hard that her red lips bled a little. “Tell me you love being fucked like this!”

She choked, her cat-like eyes glazed over, tears streaming down her face as Andrew’s cock hit the back of her throat.

— I… love… — she managed to murmur, her voice almost fading, her body moving on its own against Gael.

Luan laughed, grabbing her breasts and squeezing her nipples hard while Ian reached between her legs, rubbing her clit with rough fingers.

“Look at this bitch, she’s dripping,” Ian said, laughing as his fingers got wet. “You were born for this, blondie.”

Yuna’s head was spinning, the pleasure coming in waves so strong that she couldn’t think straight anymore. Her ass was burning, her body was aching, but every thrust, every slap, every curse was pushing her to a place of no return. She started to laugh, a low, broken sound, her eyes unfocused as the mind break hit her hard.

“That… fuck me… break me…” she moaned, the words coming out unfiltered, her voice shaking with ecstasy. “More… fuck, more!”

The guys exchanged glances, surprised for a second, but soon they took advantage. Gael thrust faster, his cock throbbing inside her asshole as he cursed:

— See, you idiots? She's asking for it! Let's finish this whore once and for all!

Luan switched places with Andrew, shoving his thick cock in her mouth while Andrew went for her ass, thrusting at an insane speed. Ian stood in front, rubbing his cock against her breasts while Gael held her in place. It was chaos—four huge cocks, hands everywhere, slapping and pulling hair, and Yuna in the middle, lost in a sea of pleasure that had swallowed her sanity.

— Fuck, I'm going to cum in that ass! — Andrew yelled, his rhythm getting sloppy as he thrust deep, his cock throbbing.

— Then cum, damn it! — Gael replied, laughing as he held her hips so Andrew could finish.

Andrew gave one last loud moan, thrusting all the way in and cumming inside her ass, the heat of his cum filling her as she screamed, her body convulsing. He pulled out, his cock dripping, and Luan took his place, thrusting into her ass without even waiting.

"My turn, bitch," Luan said, his thick cock forcing its way in as Andrew's cum dripped down her thighs.

Yuna was beside herself, laughing and moaning at the same time, her eyes rolling back as the pleasure consumed her.

"Cum... cum in me..." she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, her body limp but still responding.

Luan thrust hard, her asshole already so broken that he could easily enter, and he came right after, filling her up again as he slapped her ass.

"Take it, you whore, swallow it all!" Ian was next, thrusting into her ass while Gael shoved his cock into her mouth, the two of them synchronizing their movements.

“Open your mouth, blondie,” Gael growled, grabbing her hair as he thrust into her throat. “I’m going to cum on your face.”

She obeyed, her mind broken, her mouth open as Gael came, hot cum running down her face, dripping onto her red lips and chin. Ian finished in her ass, the third to fill her from behind, and Yuna fell onto the couch, her body shaking, her asshole throbbing with the cum from all three.

Andrew, who had already cum, rubbed his half-pumped cock against her breasts, leaving a wet trail.

“Is it over, bitch?” he said, laughing as she moaned softly, almost fainting.

Yuna didn’t answer. She was slumped, her blonde hair a sticky mess, her face covered in cum, her asshole dripping as her body convulsed in spasms of pleasure. The mind break had hit her hard — she was no longer the confident Yuna, the bitch who ruled everything. She was just a broken body, lost in an ecstasy she never imagined.

The guys straightened up, laughing and slapping each other on the back.

"Mission accomplished, huh," Gael said, fastening his belt. "Tell Lia that she won't forget it any time soon." They left the room, leaving Yuna there, the sound of the party slowly returning to her ears as she tried to breathe, her body and mind in pieces.

Yuna lay sprawled on the couch for a time she couldn't even count. The noise of the party outside — the loud music, the laughter, the breaking of glasses — seemed to come from another world. Her body was a mess: her dress torn on the floor, her blond hair stuck to her face with sweat and cum, her fair skin marked by redness, scratches and slaps. Her asshole was still throbbing, sore and hot, the guys' cum dripping down her thighs as she tried to draw air into her lungs. Her head was empty, an echo of the mind break that had just happened, but little by little she came back to herself.

She stood up slowly, her legs wobbly, and grabbed what was left of her dress to cover her body. The broken mirror on the wall showed a Yuna she barely recognized — her feline eyes were sunken, her red lipstick smeared with blood and cum, her face pale but with a strange glow. She laughed, a low, hoarse sound, almost as if she couldn't believe what had happened.

— You sons of bitches… — she muttered to herself, her voice weak but with a new tone, somewhere between anger and fascination.

On campus, rumors began to spread the next morning. No one really knew what had happened in the private room, but everyone saw Yuna leaving the dorm with her dress torn, her hair messy and her walk a little crooked. Some said she had been humiliated, others that she had enjoyed every second of it. Lia heard the whispers and smiled, satisfied with her revenge, but unaware that she had awakened something in Yuna.

The blonde didn't disappear, as some expected. She returned to campus a few days later, wearing her usual short skirt, her red lips shining, but her gaze… her gaze was different. More dangerous, more aware. She still teased, still tossed her hair and laughed at the guys who drooled over her, but now there was a weight in her words, a shine that said she knew what could happen — and maybe even wanted it again. — Hey guys, who's buying me a drink tonight? — she said one afternoon, in the same tone as always, but with a smile that made the guys hesitate.

Yuna had changed. She wasn't just the confident bitch who manipulated everyone anymore. She had a broken side, but also a new side, a fire that the gangbang had lit. The campus whispered about her, the legend growing, and she let it. After all, the game had changed — and she was ready to play again, her way.

But not everything was resolved. As Yuna paraded through the courtyard, a pair of eyes followed her from afar, hidden among the students. It was Heitor, Lia's boyfriend, the guy who had started this whole mess. He had been quiet since the party, but his look wasn't one of guilt or regret — it was one of obsession. He knew what had happened to Yuna, he had heard the rumors, and something in him was burning to pull her back into the abyss. In his hand, a cell phone flashed with an unsent message: "We need to talk, blonde. I know what you've become." The game was far from over.

#itzy smut #yuna smut #kpop smut #request dusk #requestdusk

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bloodibambiidoll · 10 months ago

Text

Pussy Liquor (Eric Draven x Stripper!Reader)

Summary: It’s a slow, boring night at the club until he walks through the door.

Warnings: Eric is implied to have a lot of money(he’s in the music industry), unprotected public sex, lust at first sight, choking 18+MDNI

✰ I think this one has been a long time coming for me. I’ve never written stripper!reader but I was a stripper for several years so this is v personal to me. The songs reader dances to used to be my favorite set. thank u for always encouraging me pookie @babygorewhore ✰

It was a dreary, slow night. There were bodies in the club but no money to go along with them. A few dudes you can tell just turned 21 and are here for the experience, they’ll definitely spend the entire evening at the same table drinking cheap beer while they whistle at the dancers with their wallets closed. A few of the girls regulars are here, either in the back or cozied up at a table. If you were lucky they’d ask you to come sit with them and at the very least buy you drinks but you didn’t feel like entertaining someone for nothing more than a few ones and some shots. There was a couple in the corner arguing and a few older men with their eyes practically glued to the slot machines. Classic.

But there was one individual that caught your eye. He wasn’t someone you would usually see in a place like this. He was more like a pretty face you saw on the street and thought about for the rest of the week. He’s tucked away in a back corner booth drinking what looks like shots of crown royal, the whole bottle, always a good sign. He’s approached the stage and tipped each girl generously but hasn’t stayed for a set. You’ve noticed a few girls go offer him dances but he declines, offering them a tip anyway. You couldn’t blame them for trying. He was gorgeous. He’s extremely tall, still towering over even the tallest dancers in their heels. His toned arms are covered in tattoos and the white tee he’s wearing sits taunt against his chest. His distressed black jeans are tucked into beat up leather boots and his face is otherworldly. Those bright green eyes shine in the flashing lights of the club, the way they dance around his face accentuating different parts of his statuesque bone structure. He has full lips and a perfect pointed nose and you’ve never wanted to ride a customer right in the middle of the club until right now. You haven’t felt nervous to go on stage since you were just starting out dancing but the way his viridescent eyes raked over your body as you climbed the stairs to the stage had your heart pounding.

Your first song starts to play and you grab onto the pole lightly as you prance around it to the beat. You press the tip of your healed boot against the bottom of the pole and spin your body around it with your other leg pointed before pressing your back against it. You nearly trip when you see the man you’ve been fantasizing about all night sitting at your stage with a $20 bill sitting on the bar. You regain your composure, smiling at him sweetly as you slide down the pole onto your knees so you can crawl to him. The sound of Rob Zombie’s “Pussy Liquor” thrums through your body, making you feel like a succubus. You stop on your knees in front of the top bar, never breaking eye contact with him as you pluck it with your manicured fingers and stuff it into the band of your black bikini top.

“Thank you, that’s so sweet of you.” You press your tits together as you lean over and stick your ass out behind you. “I’m Bunny, what’s your name?”

“Well, that’s kind of forward, isn’t it?” His voice is much softer than you expected as he returns your smile with one of his own, it’s not condescending though, it’s almost playful. “I’m Eric.”

“Well, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. You can just watch me dance.” You wink at him before leaning back on your knees and pulling the string on your top so it falls down your body, your tits spilling free. Eric’s eyes sparkle and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he looks up at you like he hasn’t seen multiple pairs of boobs just within the last hour.

You pull the bottom string free and then toss it to the side as you push yourself up on your 8 inch heels. You sway toward the pole, running your fingers through your hair as you purposefully wiggle the fat of your ass. You grab onto the metal and roll your body before swinging your foot around it so you can climb up. You lock your legs together and lean backward, suspending yourself in the air. You watch as Eric pulls out a roll of cash and throws a huge stack of ones followed by several twenty’s. You grab onto your tits and jiggle them for him before titling yourself back up to grab onto the pole. You timed it perfectly so when the beat dropped so did you, right from the top onto the ground in the splits. Eric claps, which you find absolutely adorable because who the fuck claps in a strip club? And then he throws a literal hundred dollar bill onto your stage right as your first song ends. You tease him all through the next song, “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails and when you’re leaning over to press your tits into his face he gives you this dopey smile and tells you that he loves the songs you choose. After your set is done you offer him a dance, and he insists on a private room.

You pull the thick red curtain back so you can lead him into the sectioned off area of the club. There’s walls on all three sides and an open face that’s completely blocked by curtains. You can’t help but giggle at the way he stands there awkwardly surveying the room. You can tell he’s never done this before.

“This your first time?” You grab onto a piece of your hair and twirl it, looking up at him through your lashes. He’s even taller than you thought he was and you have to stop yourself from clenching your thighs when how easily he could toss you around crosses your mind. You have no idea how you’re going to get through the next thirty minutes without getting turned on. You already are.

“Yeah. I’m just not sure how it works.” He chuckles lightly as he rubs the back of his neck but there’s this glint in his eye that tells you he isn’t going to make this any easier on you or your tiny thong.

“Well, why don’t you just sit down on the couch and I can dance for you?” You grab his hand and guide him to the couch, encouraging him to sit down. He obliges you and you lower yourself into his lap with your legs hanging over his. You’re back in your top now, but it leaves little to be desired and you feel your body heat as his eyes rake over you. One of his large hands lands on your thigh and he gives you a questioning look, instead of answering him verbally you swing your leg over his to straddle him and grab onto both of his hands, resting them on your hips. You throw your arms over his shoulders and grind down on him lightly and it has his grip on you tightening.

“I don’t know the rules and you’re making it really hard for me to control myself already.” Eric’s voice is a deep rumble that runs straight to your core and god you don’t usually let customers touch you like this but you’re starting to wonder if you can stop yourself from fucking him right here.

“Wanna know a little secret, Eric?” You ghost your lips across his pierced ear and you can feel his skin break out into goosebumps.

“Yeah.” He groans when you grind down on him harder this time, his grip on you turning almost bruising.

“I don’t usually let guys touch me, even for money, but you? You can touch me as much as you want.” You run your nose down his jaw before pulling away from him, flipping around on his lap and pushing yourself onto your feet. You roll your body and shake your ass for him while pulling your top off again. You shimmy back onto his lap with your back pressed to his chest and grind against his now hard bulge. You can’t help the little whine that escapes you. His large tattooed hands grip onto your tits and that’s when you lose all sense of reality.

“I really liked your songs, ya know?” Eric’s breath tingles against your neck, his lips just barely brushing your skin. “You’re the only girl here I wanted to talk to.”

“Yeah? You’re the only guy I’ve ever seen in here that I actually wanted to dance for.” You throw your hands behind your back so you can lace them behind his head as you continue to wind on his lap. “And it’s so fucking against the rules but I’d let you fuck me right here.” You lean your head back so you can look up into his eyes and his expression has changed drastically, it was like your words flipped a switch inside of him and he wants nothing more to eat you alive.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble, bunny.” He chuckles and brings a finger up to your cheek. He runs it down your face to your jaw before ghosting it over your lips and you can’t help but dart your tongue out to lick the pad of his finger. “Let me take you home with me.”

“Well, I’m not really supposed to do that either. But I really feel like breaking some fucking rules tonight.” You wind your hips in a circle and his cock slides perfectly between your thong covered ass.

“They can’t be too mad if I pay them off, right?” He squeezes your boob, rolling your nipple between his fingertips.

“That would cost a lot. You’re hot enough to lose my job over. There’s other clubs. I want you to fuck me.” You whine and pull the strings of your bottoms so they fall down your hips. You never thought you’d be here, sitting on a customers lap begging him to fuck you like a bitch in heat. But something about this man was making you lose all rationality.

“Money isn’t an issue for me baby. Hell, I’ll get you out of here permanently if you want.” He runs that perfect nose along the column of your throat, inhaling the expensive perfume one of your regulars bought you a few months back. “And you don’t need to beg, the minute I saw you I knew I’d give you anything you asked for.”

“Fuck, Those are some big promises, honey.” You giggle, sugary sweet, and it makes him melt. He grabs onto your hips and pushes you to stand, your tiny thong falling at your feet, leaving you exposed to him. Eric grabs onto the globes of your ass and spreads them open, your pussy lips coming apart with a click from how wet you are.

“Would you look at that? So fucking perfect.” He grips onto your hips to turn you around, making sure to steady you when you stumble in your heels. You watch with wide eyes as he reaches for his playboy bunny belt buckle and your jaw practically drops to the floor when he pulls his cock out. It’s fucking huge and pierced. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep, bunny. Come sit on it.”

Eric pulls you forward and you straddle him, your knees sinking into the leather of the couch. He grips onto his shaft and runs it through your wetness, the balls of his piercing bumping against your clit. He taps the head against your sensitive bud before lining up with your entrance and slowly pushing inside your wet walls. But it’s not enough, you want to feel the burn of the stretch while he splits you open so you slam your hips down onto his, taking him to the hilt in one thrust. It nearly knocks the wind out of you and a moan so loud that the music barely drowns it out.

“Oh fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Eric grips onto your ass and bounces you up and down on his cock as he stares into your eyes deeply. “You sure nobody is gonna come in here?”

“Nobody will, they’re definitely watching on the cameras and I’m definitely fucked as soon as we walk out of here but they’ll let it play out.” It’s like you gave him the green light because he plants his feet firmly on the ground and starts to fuck up into you. He grips onto your throat so he can pull your lips to his in a filthy kiss, not wasting any time intertwining your tongues together. The metal bar in his cock caresses your walls as his thick head bullies your g-spot and your toes curl in your boots. “Choke me harder.”

“Yeah? You like it rough, bunny? I’m going to have so much fun with you.” Eric squeezes your throat tighter and his free hand comes to run circles on your clit with his thumb. The way he’s talking about you like he already owns you combined with the pleasure he’s giving you has you already teetering towards the edge. “I’m gonna keep you, make you my pretty little fuck doll. You want that?”

“Yes, fuck yes.” You whine, drool starting to drip down your chin as your eyes roll back. Your manicured fingers scratch at his back through his shirt and you wouldn’t be surprised if it has tiny rips in it by the end of this.

“Look at me when you fall apart on my cock.” Eric grunts as he shifts his hips so he’s fucking into you even deeper and it has euphoria washing over your entire body the minute your eyes lock with his. Your pussy clenches around his cock like a vise grip and you moan so loudly there’s no way it can’t be heard outside of this room. But you’re way past giving a fuck. “Oh, that’s a good bunny, come for me.”

“Oh my f-fucking god! Fuckkkk me!” Eric’s thrusts don’t let up as he chases his own high, his hands grip onto your ass again and he’s practically folded in half on the couch as he bounces you like a fuck toy on his dick.

“I’m gonna fucking come.” Eric grunts before he’s pressing your hips flush against yours with his cock twitching inside you. You watch as he throws his head back, exposing his tattooed neck and you can’t help but lean forward and bite down on it. “Fuck yes, fucking bite me.”

You suck and bite on his skin until he goes limp underneath you, panting as he tries to catch his breath. He pushes himself up with his cock still nestled inside of you before pulling you close so he can kiss you with a passion no man ever has before. Who was this guy? And why did you never want to leave him?

“Alright, we should get out of here so I can go lose my job.” You chuckle as you stand up and grab your bikini, tying it back on while Eric tucks himself back into his pants. He comes to stand in front of you, taking your face into his hands.

“I meant that shit I said. I know we don’t know each other, hell, I don’t even know your real name. But come home with me, I’ll pay off these assholes and buy you whatever you want.” Eric smiles at you so sweetly you feel like you’re going to melt into the beer soaked carpet and how can you say no?

“Fuck it. Let’s go.” You giggle and push yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss him before pulling him out to face the music.

You definitely lost your job that night. But Eric fucked you so good you couldn’t even bring it in yourself to care. And he kept his promise. He kept you as his little doll and gave you everything your heart could ever desire.

Tagging a few moots who might be interested: @nailbatanddungeon @myspacebrat @ghoul-friendz @taintandviolent

Divider is by @cafekitsune

#eric draven #eric draven 2024 #the crow #the crow 2024 #eric draven x reader #eric draven smut #eric draven fanfiction #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard smut #dolly writes

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sweetiecutie · 2 years ago

Text

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, headlock🤤, unprotected sex, creampie, a bit of fluff at the end

A/n: as promised, as soon as I came out of the cinema I started working on this! It’s not as nasty as I wanted it to be, but I’ll work on that🩷

Your bedroom smelled strongly of sex and sweat, loud moans along with praise mixed with degrading were bouncing off the tall walls, surely gaining the two of you a few noise complaints the next day. You were splayed in the middle of your huge queen-sized bed, head pressed into soft pillows and ass high up in the air as your boyfriend was dogging the shit out of you, making sure that your pussy was raw and thoroughly fucked.

You’ve been at it for hours - your sheets were wet with sweat and other bodily fluids, your ass felt hot from all the spanks Miguel generously delivered. Your throat felt sore from all the moaning and previous face-fucking, musky taste of Miguel’s cock still lingered on your tongue. You felt like a rag doll in your lover’s strong arms, too tired to move by yourself, but too greedy for pleasure to actually stop this sweet torture.

Miguel yanked your hips up higher, getting a firm grip on your waist; he shifted a bit, placing one foot on the mattress for better range of movements. A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your kiss-swollen lips as brunette absolutely ravaged you - he pounded your poor dripping pussy with so much vigor that your body shifted forward with each thrust, heavy balls slapping against your clammy skin with loud smacking sounds. Miguel’s large hands moved to smack your pretty ass so it jiggled in his palms, relishing to grab and mold your pliable flesh afterwards.

- Just look at this greedy pussy, taking every inch of me like a cock-hungry slut. Bet you were thinking about it whole day long, huh? - Miguel rasped above you, his filthy words caused heat rising up to your cheeks as you buried your face even deeper into soft pillows, but they couldn’t hide your reddened ears form his sharp eyes.

Miguel leaned down, one massive arm sliding underneath your neck, so that your chin was tucked right in the hollow of his elbow; a few moments later your face was squished in between male’s bulking bicep and a thick forearm, trapped in a firm headlock. He put most of his body weight onto your small body, pounding your dripping cunt into the bouncy mattress, stretching you out on his mighty girth, making your eyes roll back in intense pleasure. You felt Miguel’s free hand slipping underneath your tummy, finding your throbbing needy clit in no time and massaging it brutally with rough fingertips, matching the roughness of his hips slamming into you from behind.

- Oh baby, you’re drooling, - Miguel tutted in feigned pity, his hot lips brushing the shell of your ear, making hairs on the back of your neck rise.

His words brought you out of heavy haze of pleasure, bringing some consciousness to your foggy mind. And, indeed, your chin felt cooler because of your drool covering it, some even dribbled down onto Miguel’s arm, getting in between your chin and his inner elbow. Your hands came to his arm around your neck, fingers digging into firm muscles, leaving crescent-shaped marks on scarred skin.

- Mig..uel, I’m-

- Shhh, my love. Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of you, - Miguel shushed you softly, his hips slapping against your ass with even more vigor, making you momentarily forget whatever it was that you wanted to say.

He hissed as he felt your velvety walls clenching around him, the suckle of your pussy sent his hips bucking and forcing his cock impossibly deeper into your cunt. A familiar coil makes itself knows in the pit of your stomach - a telltale sign of your next orgasm approaching rapidly.

- Oh fuck bunny, fuck fuck fuck. Gonna fill that pussy with my cum, full and nice, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? - Miguel rambled next to your ear as his pace became faster and sloppier.

- Pl..ease. Fuck, need.. it. ‘m so close, - you managed to stutter through

Your body prickled with desire and heat, Miguel’s fingers worked diligently on your clit along with his massive cock spreading you open, thick cockhead mushing against all of your sweet spots - he very soon had you cumming all around him, wringing a mind-blowing orgasm out of your exhausted body, your release leaving a noticeable white ring on the base of his dick.

A string or curses and quiet whimpers reached your ears as Miguel’s snapped his hips into yours quickly before stilling completely. Strong shudder ran through male’s massive body and, with a final moan, he shoot his thick cum inside of your fluttering heat, flooding your insides with his warmth.

Miguel went slack against your back, his body mounding against yours as he laid atop of you, making you squeak quietly under his weight. He chuckled airily as he rolled off you to the side, sliding his softening cock out of your bruised pussy. You whined at the feeling of emptiness, warm sperm dripped out in a small dribble, staining your slit and sheets underneath you. Miguel scooped you up in his big arms and maneuvered you to lay on top of his heaving chest, thick fingers tangled in your messy hair, massaging your scalp lovingly.

You took a deep breath, cuddling deeper into your lover’s neck, wrapping one arm around his broad shoulders. Your eyelids felt too heavy and Miguel felt too comfy to lay on, so you were fighting off sleep as much as you could.

- Go to sleep baby, I’ll clean everything up, - you heard a soft murmur, warm lips kissing your forehead in a comforting manner. You hummed in acknowledgment, getting more comfortable in Miguel’s arms.

- Love you, - you whispered tiredly, sleep heavy on your lids.

- Love you too angel

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love🩷🩷

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara spiderverse #spiderverse fanfic #spiderverse smut #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x you #across the spiderverse #sony spiderverse #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel spiderverse

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the-shedevil-writes · 6 days ago

Note

hi!! is it possible for you to write one for lewis pullman in general or bob floyd inspired by this

Meet The Parents (Bob Floyd x Reader)

DESCRIPTION: After 6 months of dating, Bob is incredibly nervous to meet your parents. Even after you dress him up and reassure him that he'll be just fine, you're surprised by how well he does.

WORD COUNT: 2.9k WARNINGS: Fluff. Making out and implied smut. Reader has had an embarrassing dating history. NOTES: My first ever request! I was already planning on doing a meet the parents sort of thing for Bob so it was perfect! Feel free to send ideas to my 'ask me anything'! MY MASTERLIST - READ ON AO3!

Bob had been… a nervous wreck. Y/n spent all night and morning reassuring him that it was going to be just fine. She took the opportunity to dress him up like a doll that afternoon. So he stood in a crisp white shirt tucked into a nice pair of jeans, fidgeting as he cleaned his glasses for what felt like the millionth time today. She came by with the USS Midway hat they had bought when they visited the museum a few months back. As he put his glasses back on, she put the hat on his head and smiled up at him.

“You’re gonna be just fine. Trust me, they’re gonna love you.” She reassured.

This was the first time Bob was meeting her family. In fact, it was the first time he was going to be meeting the family of a girl he was dating. He wasn’t exactly experienced in the love life department, and he had never made it this far with the very few girls he did date back in high school. So after six months of dating Y/n, she suggested it, and he nodded eagerly to the idea.

But now that it was the day… He felt more nervous than he did when he and Phoenix did a carrier landing.

“You should let me dress you more often. God, you look so good.” She said, biting her thumb and eyeing him up and down.

A bashful blush spread across his cheeks. “I’d be just fine with that.” He nodded with his little crooked smile before reaching out and wrapping his arms around her waist.

She rested her head against his chest. “Trust me, Bob. You’re the best guy I’ve ever dated. They’re just gonna be glad your hair doesn’t go down to your hips and you have a career.” She said softly.

He furrowed his brows.

“Did you date guys like that?”

She smiled against his shirt. “Mmmm… I’ll let my mom tell you that story.”

After a forty-five-minute drive, Bob parked the baby blue pickup outside her parents' house. It was a nice little two-story with light blue wood paneling and white accents. A small porch was lit up by string lights her dad had installed. It even had a white picket fence surrounding it. The inside of the house was lit with a cozy orange that poured out the windows, matching the setting sun. He swallowed. It looked absolutely lovely.

Y/n, in the passenger seat, reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Look, my parents are a bit… eccentric, but they’re so so friendly. I promise.” She said, “Just be your perfect self.”

He nodded, feeling a little better at the warning. He took the key out of the ignition and stepped out so he could open the door for her. Even with just this, she knew her family would eat him up.

She took his hand and stepped down from the truck. The muffled sound of ABBA’s Dancing Queen and laughter could be heard blasting from inside. Her cheeks blushed a little at that, but she looked up to see Bob’s nervous expression. She reached up and cupped his face to kiss him.

“Let’s do this.”

He nodded with a small smile on his face now and held her hand.

They walked through the gate and up the porch steps, and Bob looked around curiously at everything. When she rang the doorbell, he focused his attention back on the door.

The door swung open to reveal her mom, and wow, she looked just like Y/n, only with thinner hair. ABBA blasted even louder now that the door was open.

“Y/N!” She threw her arms out, and the girls hugged. It had been quite a while since she had last come to visit. Work felt like it had been taking over her life.

When they separated, her mom looked over to find Bob. Her lips curved into a smile. “And you must be the famous Bob.”

Bob nodded and put his hand out for her to shake. “Hi, Ms. Y/l/n.” He said nervously.

Her mom used his hand to pull him in for a hug. Surprised, he chuckled and hugged her back.

“He’s handsome.” Her mom mouthed to her as Bob patted her back, oblivious.

She rolled her eyes, and her mom suddenly turned back.

“Guys! Y/n’s here with her boyfriend.” She said, gesturing for them to come in.

As they entered, Bob admired the house’s white walls and paneling inside. It looked clean, like a real estate open house. Pictures lined the walls of the entryway, and Bob looked at them with a small smile. He pointed to one of a young Y/n in a Little Mermaid Halloween costume. His lip pouted in a ‘so cute’ fashion.

“Oh god, I’m sure my mom’s gonna love showing every photo of me to ever exist. She collects them like trading cards.” She chuckled as they walked through

They walked into the main living area and found chaos. Her dad cussed like a sailor as he got out a tray of lasagna from the oven. Smoke suddenly plumed through the kitchen. Her college-aged brother was opening a window as fast as he could while their little teen sister was screaming about smelling like smoke. All while ABBA played discordantly in the background.

She turned to Bob. “Welcome to my circus.” She chuckled.

“Jesus Christ, Christopher.” Her mom scolded her dad as he put the lasagna on the counter.

“What?! What? It’s still edible. I’ll scrape it off the top.” He said, dipping a butter knife in and tasting the cheese. He turned around to see Bob standing awkwardly next to Y/n. “OH! Hi-”

Her dad took his oven mitts off and walked over instantly putting his hand out to shake it. “I’m Chris. Nice to meet ya.” And when Bob shook his hand, her dad smiled, “Good grip. Always like to see that.”

Bob chuckled, “Bob. Thanks for having me.” He said, and she looked up at him. He was a natural. She had no idea why he was so worried. If anything, SHE should’ve been the worried one with her sometimes borderline dysfunctional family. Sure, Bob was a little timid- but he wasn’t exactly shy either. He could talk to people and make conversation. And that’s just what she needed.

Her little sister and brother waved at him from the dining table.

“Bob, this is my little sister Lily, and this is my younger brother Darren.” She said, pointing to them.

Bob waved back. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Meanwhile, her mom turned down the speakers so that 70s disco wasn’t pounding into every recess of their brains.

“Is it true that you’re a pilot?” Lily asked.

Bob nodded. “Kinda. I’m a Weapon Systems Officer for the Navy. So I sit in the back and monitor everything.”

Her dad whistled. “Tough job. Gotta be real smart to do that.”

And Y/n couldn’t resist the smile of pride that grew on her face. “He is.” She said, reaching down and squeezing his hand. It was impossible to miss his eyes softening at her. He felt a sense of accomplishment in her seeming proud of him. Even if there was a small feeling of being shown off like an award-winning pig.

After a moment, her dad waved the steam off the lasagna. “Well, dinner’s pretty much done. Kids go set the table-”

And Bob immediately went to help. She sucked in a breath as she watched Bob follow Darren and grab some place mats. He didn’t have to at all; he was a guest for godssakes. Yet he was smiling softly, looking around for the silverware to add. Lily showed him the drawer. He fit right in. And that left her with a warm feeling that spread throughout her chest.

Her mom leaned over.

“I like this guy already.”

Sitting around the dinner table, it became Let’s Expose Y/n hour. As she poked at her lasagna, Darren started to laugh to himself.

“Remember how Y/n couldn’t figure out how to cut steak until college?”

“DARREN!” She squealed, putting her hands to her cheeks to hide her embarrassed blush. That was a mortifying fact that nobody needed to know outside her family. But it seemed like Darren and Lily already wanted Bob to be part of that.

Her dad laughed and shook his head. “It was like watching someone try and start a fire. She’d stab the fork straight down the middle and try and cut the opposite way.”

Bob couldn’t help but look over at her and chuckle. She looked back over at him with an embarrassed mix of a frown and a smile.

“I can cut my own steak now.” She tilted her head.

“Well, I can always do it for you,” Bob answered genuinely.

That made her mom practically melt. She put her cheek in her hand.

“Where on Earth did you find a man like this?”

“Yeah, it’s like the first actual man you’ve brought home.” Her dad commented.

Bob choked a little with a bashful smile. “Oh, I don’t know-”

“Her last boyfriend didn’t know how to pump gas,” Lily cut him off with a snort.

Her parents laughed, and Y/n groaned. Bob smiled a little. This was definitely the ego boost that he needed.

“With my truck parked outside, I hope I’ve been doing it right,” Bob joked.

She saw a look in her dad’s eyes. An excited look of approval. Bob was a naval aviator, a gentleman, and he owned the baby blue pickup that was parked by the curb outside. She couldn’t have brought home anyone better.

“Y/n mentioned something about a guy with really long hair?” Bob asked with furrowed brows and a knowing smile before taking a bite.

The whole table erupted in cheers and groans, and even though it was an embarrassing story, she didn’t care. It was just so perfect.

After a night of laughter and chaos, the couple walked into Y/n’s childhood bedroom. It looked like it hadn’t even been touched since she moved out. With yellow painted walls and fairy lights strung up everywhere. Movie posters and vinyl records were hung up and stored on full bookshelves.

She casually strolled and jumped onto her old bed, eager to lie down after a hectic evening. She looked over to find Bob taking it all in. So she patted the bed next to her to grab his attention. He smiled as he climbed on to lie on top of the sheets next to her. Scooching in, she wrapped her arms around him and lay her head on his chest. His calming heartbeat thrummed in her ear.

“Your parents are nice.” He said, bringing his arm up to scratch her scalp.

She closed her eyes with a relaxed sigh. This felt right. Of the men she had brought into her family home, it was the first time this feeling of domestic bliss had settled in her. There wasn’t a sense of shame or worry that he was gonna make a fool of himself (and thus her). Instead, he was perfectly capable of being normal, sensible, and kind around her parents and siblings. Because that’s just who he was.

“I told you. You had nothing to worry about.” She smiled softly, “I think my dad wants to date you himself.”

That made Bob break out into laughter, and seeing his face scrunch up like that was her favorite sight. They looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that were stuck on her ceiling. They stopped glowing after the first week, but she was too lazy to get the ladder and peel them off.

She propped up on her elbow and cupped his cheek, turning him in for a kiss. Today was probably the hottest thing she had ever seen. He was still dressed in the outfit and hat she had put him in, and there was something about him offering to do the dishes with her mom that lit her on fire. She kissed him deeply, and even though he was a little surprised, he wrapped his arm around her waist. It was like she couldn’t help herself, and she started moving more on top of him.

He pulled his head back with a breathy chuckle and tilted the top of his hat so he could make space for her. “What’s all this about?” He asked with a small smile.

“Nothing. I just liked how you were with my family today.” She whispered into his lips before giving him another peck.

“I’ll come visit every day dressed in whatever you want me to wear if it means I get to see you this happy.” He said, giving her a small kiss now.

She moved so that she was straddling one of his legs now and deepened another kiss. He still smelled like his laundry detergent and the ‘ocean mist’ cologne he knew she liked.

“You wanna do this in your childhood bedroom?” He asked, amused against her lips, not bothering to pull away.

“If you can keep quiet.” She murmured back, leaning down to start kissing his neck.

He let out a mix between a relaxed sigh and a chuckle, and he ran his hands through the back of her hair so he could gently pull her to face him. “Sweetheart, we both know it’s not me who has a problem keeping quiet.” His thigh lifted so that it connected with her middle, and she let out a shaky sigh of relief.

A rosy blush spread across her flustered face, and she let out a shy smile.

“Shut up.” She giggled before smashing her lips to his.

The next morning, Bob woke up to his girlfriend standing by the window and quietly talking on the phone. Well, quietly scolding on the phone.

“Nobody else can do it?” She whispered, sounding exasperated, “I’m not even near the office. I don’t even have my car.”

Bob sat up and reached for his glasses on the bedside table. He admired her even as she stood with a hand on her hip. She was still in her lilac bra and underwear, and the morning light that poured through the curtains gave her a heavenly glow. He ran his hands through his birds nest of sandy blonde and leaned on his elbow, just watching her.

After a few minutes, she hung up and turned to him. She crawled back on the bed towards him. “Guess who has to go fix fires at work… I’m sorry, baby. We might have to cut the trip short.” She said sadly.

Bob opened his arms, and she straddled his lap. It wasn’t sensual this time. It was just him holding her and looking up at her with the utmost love in his eyes.

He let his fingers trace up and down her spine. “Well, we can always come back.” He said softly.

“That’s a lot of gas for a job that’ll take like an hour tops, baby.” She replied, running her fingers through his hair, trying to fix it.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. It’s been so long since you’ve gotten to spend time with your family. I don’t mind…” He said, “Hey, how about you take the truck and I stay here.”

Her head tilted with big eyes. “Would that be okay?”

“Of course.” He said with his crooked little smile.

“You gonna be able to survive my parents? They’ll make you do karaoke or watch some horrible action movie no one’s even heard of.”

“I think I can manage.” He said before leaning up to kiss her.

Y/n strutted into the office, not happy. She immediately got onto the computer and checked over the files. Yeah, somehow there was a corruption in the hard drive, but luckily she knew a few ways to try and go back in the history.

After around an hour, she sighed in frustration. How did the new guys manage to even do this? It was like they had somehow made the work drive disappear into thin air. This was gonna take longer than the quick turnaround she assumed it would be.

In defeat, she grabbed her phone and FaceTimed Bob. Her heart pattered a little against her chest. Hopefully, he wasn’t feeling out of place, or that her parents weren’t intimidating him. Or that her siblings weren’t questioning him about every single aspect of his life.

The tone rang a few times, and she furrowed her brows. Maybe he went back to sleep after she left?

Then, suddenly, a low angle of Bob’s face appeared on screen. The clear blue sky was behind his head. He looked down at the camera.

“Hey, baby. What’s up?” He said, smiling, but then he looked over at somebody. She could hear Bidi Bidi Bom Bom playing on the outdoor speakers.

She brightened. “Hey, uh- I’m gonna be a little longer than I thought. I should hopefully be in time before dinner, though.”

“Okay!” He said cheery, the reflection of the phone in his glasses, “I’m playing cornhole with your parents so I can’t talk for very long anyway.”

What. She bursted out laughing and put her hand to her mouth. It made it worse when Bob turned the camera to show her parents in their swimsuits across from him with bean bags in their hands. Her laughter could be heard across the cubicles.

“Have fun, Bob. Tell my parents I said hi.” She put her fingers to her eyes with a grin, unable to stop giggling.

“I will!” He said back, “Love you, bye.”

He hung up the phone, and she leaned back in her office chair, trying to suppress her laughter. Yeah. Bob was gonna fit right in.

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horchatakoo · 2 months ago

Text

The More You Struggle, The Tighter I Hold

Synopsis: Jungkook has given you everything, so he doesn’t quite appreciate it when you choose a broke college boy over him. Themes: chaebol yandere jungkook, rich brat reader, mind conditioning, manipulation, age gap, older jk, nsfw, smut, dubcon, crempie, pregnancy kink

Jungkook has spoiled you rotten for as long as he can remember—lavishing you with expensive gifts, funding your every whim, covering your wishlist without hesitation. Free trips abroad for you and your friends, extravagant dinner dates, even pulling strings to get you into your dream university when your grades didn’t quite meet the requirements. A simple call to the dean, a casual mention of your "relation," and suddenly, doors that should have remained closed swung wide open for you.

He has always been there, protecting you, guiding you, offering advice like a good older brother would. And for years, that’s exactly how you saw him—a doting, dependable presence, someone you could always rely on.

But Jungkook never wanted to be just seen as an older brother.

He wanted more.

Maybe it started the first time he met you, when your father brought you to one of his meetings with Jungkook’s grandfather. You were just ten years old then, a shy, quiet child clinging to the edges of the conversation while he, at sixteen, regarded you as the little sister he never had. Someone fragile, someone to protect.

At least, that’s what he thought his feelings were.

Until you turned seventeen.

That was when everything shifted. Your body began to change—your hips, your chest, the graceful curve of your waist.

Your innocence took on an unintentional allure, oblivious to how you moved, how your body would be pressed into him when you came running to hug him, how you smiled, or how your presence began to unearth something dark and possessive inside him.

That was when Jungkook stopped seeing you as his little sister. And started seeing you as something else entirely.

He saw you as a woman, a woman that should belong to him, rather than that of a younger sister, but you are oblivious to that fact.

Jungkook’s help isn’t limited to just you—it extends to your entire family, ensuring their unwavering favor, shaping their perception of him as a saint, a savior, a blessing from heaven that they could never repay.

When his grandfather retired as chairman of the Jeon Conglomerate, Jungkook stepped into his rightful position, making sure that your family reaped the greatest benefits from his power.

But those benefits didn’t come without cost…

He had orchestrated everything. Pulled the right strings, made the right moves, and watched as your family’s company crumbled under carefully placed pressure—only for him to appear at just the right time with an outstretched hand and an offer too generous to refuse.

A lifeline. A godsend.

Your father and brother were given prestigious positions within his empire—roles they were woefully unqualified for, yet perfect for keeping them satisfied.

Jungkook knew your father had been embezzling funds from the Jeons for years, a rat biting the very hand that fed him. But Jungkook never stopped him. He never exposed him. Instead, he tolerated it, even allowed it, letting your father gorge himself on wealth that Jungkook could make back in mere minutes.

Because money has never been an issue to him,

It’s not what Jungkook wanted the most…

You are.

Your family had been consumed by greed long ago, blind to the noose tightening around them as they dug their own graves.

And Jungkook?

He only watched in quiet amusement.

He had always known their sins would serve him one day. That when the time came, their insatiable hunger for wealth and status would tip the scales in his favor.

After all, they were nothing more than beggars dressed in wealth—always grasping for more, always willing to sell whatever was necessary for a place at the Jeon table.

Even you.

And why wouldn’t they? Everything they had—every luxury, every privilege—existed only because of him.

If not for Jungkook, your family would have sunk into bankruptcy long ago.

You were almost just like them—you couldn’t live without gold under your feet. The only difference was that you never took advantage of anyone, never used people for your own gain.

You weren’t capable of something like that.

In Jungkook's mind, a kind and innocent thing like you isn’t capable of such sin.

You were just... spoiled. If that was the right word for it. Born into wealth, raised in luxury, never knowing what it was like to beg for anything.

And Jungkook was fine with that.

More than fine.

Because once you became his, he planned on spoiling you even more.

For a long time, everything unfolded just as Jungkook had planned—until he received the most offensive news from you.

“Kookie, meet Hoseok. We’re in the same college department… he’s, um, my boyfriend.”

You introduced him shyly, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend’s slender frame.

Jungkook sat there, his glass of wine in hand, gaze locked onto the two of you. He looked at Hoseok from head to toe, trying to process what you had just said—as if hearing it aloud would somehow make it more real.

Here you are, standing beside a guy who looked like he had thrown himself together in five minutes—jeans, Converse, and a wrinkled T-shirt that was probably the first thing he grabbed from his small closet.

An attire that's entirely not suited to a luxurious dinner place like this

His nervous smile only made the contrast more jarring.

And then there’s Jungkook, in a perfectly tailored suit, polished shoes, a Patek Philippe watch on his wrist—an image of wealth and power that felt completely at odds with this moment.

“You never told me anything about this… guy, baby,” Jungkook finally spoke, his voice cold as he set his wineglass down.

Of course, you're twenty now. It's only natural that you’d have a boyfriend. But he never imagined it would be this soon, especially since he’d never seen you show any real interest in relationships.

He always thought your attention was his alone—that no unworthy man could ever steal it.

But it seems he was wrong.

In his mind, maybe he should’ve arranged your marriage with him sooner.

Hoseok stiffened at the way Jungkook called you baby, but he quickly shook off the thought. You’d told him before that Jungkook was like an older brother—maybe this was just how he spoke.

“Well, I always forget,” you said casually, taking a seat and gesturing for Hoseok to join you as you skimmed through the menu.

Jungkook only hummed in response, swirling the wine in his glass.

“U-uh, hi, sir,” Hoseok finally spoke up, his voice tentative, trying to break the tense silence.

You had warned him before coming in that Jungkook might come off as strong and intimidating, but that he was actually sweet underneath it all.

But nothing about Jungkook’s aura felt sweet to Hoseok.

Well—at least to you, Jungkook was sweet.

Jungkook certainly heard Hoseok’s attempt at a greeting. He even glanced at him briefly. But he didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, his attention remained fixed on you.

“Baby, do your parents already know about this?” His voice was calm, but there was something heavier beneath it, something unreadable.

You tensed for a second but quickly recovered. “Kookieeee, please don’t tell them. You know how they can be sometimes. I only told you because I knew you’d be happy for me,” you said with a sweet smile.

You were definitely wrong about that.

None of this made Jungkook happy. Not even a little.

But he chuckled softly, watching how you tried to act cute in front of him, hoping to convince him to keep your little secret.

"Fine,”

Hoseok sat there, feeling increasingly uncomfortable—the way Jungkook’s presence seemed to dominate the space, the way the dynamic between the two of you didn’t quite sit right with him.

This wasn’t how normal childhood friends act, even if you say that you're very close with Jungkook.

Still, he chose to remain silent. He wasn’t about to speak out of turn in front of a man who looked like he could crush him for even the smallest mistake.

Jungkook drained the last of his wine, then glanced at his wristwatch before rising from his seat.

“Well, you two have fun,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. “Order whatever you want.” He said as he handed you his black card.

“But Kook! I thought you had cleared your plans for tonight?” Confusion flickered across your face.

“Yeah, I know, baby. But you know how it is. I’m a busy man.”

That was a lie.

He had indeed cleared his schedule. This night was supposed to be just for the two of you. But Hoseok’s presence had ruined his appetite.

My driver will pick you up at eight,” he continued, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You know how your mom doesn’t like you coming home late.”

“Uhh, sir… I actually intend to bring her home myself—”

“Alright, baby?” Jungkook cut him off, his voice gentle but firm, like a parent dismissing a child.

The conversation was already over.

You hesitated for a second before nodding. “Okay…” you murmured, the slight sadness in your voice betraying the unspoken truth:

Jungkook didn’t like Hoseok for you.

And he never would.

And just like that, the night ended with you being picked up by one of Jungkook’s driver after you and hoseok finished eating dinner that jungkook had paid for.

Hoseok might not say it aloud, but he hated it…

Hated how Jungkook had effortlessly covered the bill when he could’ve just taken you somewhere he could afford.

It felt like a reminder—like a quiet way of putting him in his place.

And it didn’t help that you wouldn’t stop babbling about how good the food was.

“God, that steak was delicious! It tasted almost the same as the ones we had on our Europe trip…”

Hoseok only hummed in response, already annoyed, his fists clenching at his sides as the two of you stepped out of the restaurant. And there it was—a sleek black Mercedes waiting in front of the restaurant, Jungkook’s driver standing there to greet you.

“Good evening, Miss Y/N.”

You barely noticed Hoseok’s stiff posture beside you. “My driver’s here. Bye, Hoseok!” you chirped, flashing him a small smile before slipping inside the car without a second thought.

Hoseok stood there for a moment, watching as the car pulled away, his jaw tightening.

If that’s how Jungkook reacted, then what more if your parents found out you were dating him?

And though you had always been so kind to Hoseok, he couldn’t help but feel like he was beneath you—like he wasn’t someone worthy of standing by your side.

A week had passed since that dinner. The one where you introduced Hoseok to Jungkook like it was nothing, like it wouldn’t shift the earth beneath your feet.

You honestly thought things were going fine.

But Hoseok had been… gone.

Not in the literal sense—no, he was still enrolled, still somewhere in the city—but he hadn’t attended any of your shared classes, hadn’t shown up at the student publication office where the two of you spent almost every afternoon.

His name no longer popped up in your notifications, no missed calls, no good morning texts.

Just... silence.

A gaping void where he used to be.

You reached out to people, trying not to sound desperate.

But the responses were all the same:

"I don’t know." "Ask someone else." "We’re not getting involved in your drama."

Drama?

What drama?

Everything was going fine. Wasn’t it?

Something in you says that he's avoiding you, but you refuse to accept that, because everything was just fine. Instead, you convince yourself to believe that maybe something has just happened that doesn't concern you, perhaps a family emergency that he has to take care of.

But why is he not messaging you if that's the case? The longer the silence dragged on, the more it chipped away at your patience.

Until finally, you decided you’d had enough.

If he wasn’t going to face you at uni, then you’d confront him at his apartment. You need to get your answers to the questions that have been bugging your mind.

You didn’t bother texting. You didn’t even knock.

The spare key he’d given you months ago still worked.

The lights were off when you stepped inside. Your first impression was that he might not be home—you were halfway through calling his name, just to make sure he really wasn’t there, when you heard something from the bedroom—faint, but unmistakable.

A moan.

You stopped cold.

Your heart plummeted straight into your stomach.

No.

No, no, no.

You moved before you could think better of it, storming down the short hall toward his bedroom. The door was cracked open just enough.

You pushed it.

And instantly wished you hadn’t.

There he was.

Hoseok.

On top of someone, some girl you barely recognized from one of the campus orgs. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her nails digging into his back, both of them breathless, gasping, fucking like they had no care in the world until they felt your presence that caught them off guard.

You felt stupid—after all those days of searching for him, calling and worrying, wondering what could've happened to him, only to find him enjoying himself between some other girl's legs.

A strangled noise left your throat as you stumbled back a step. Your vision blurred for a second, and the ringing in your ears drowned out whatever garbled excuse the girl tried to throw on as she scrambled for a sheet.

Hoseok didn’t even flinch.

Didn’t even look guilty.

He didn’t bother covering up. Didn’t even look surprised anymore. Just annoyed.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, pulling away from the girl beneath him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You were frozen, the image of him and that girl still burned behind your eyelids.

“You stalking me now?” he scoffed, reaching for his jeans without shame. “God, I should’ve known you wouldn’t take the hint.”

“The hint?” your voice cracked. “You disappeared on me, Hoseok. You ignored my calls, ditched class—what the fuck was I supposed to think?”

He rolled his eyes, zipping his pants. “That it’s over. That’s what you should’ve thought.”

Your stomach dropped.

“But… you didn’t even—”

“Didn’t even what? Text you some sappy breakup message?” he sneered.

“Why would I waste my time on that? It’s not like we were anything serious.”

Your breath hitched, refusing to believe what he just said, though it was crystal clear.

"You told me you loved me!"

“Yeah, well,” he said, grabbing a shirt and carelessly pulling it over his head, “I say a lot of shit. Doesn’t mean I meant it.”

The girl behind him giggled under the covers, which only infuriated you further, and Hoseok didn’t even glance at her. His eyes were on you, and they weren’t kind like how it was before.

“Look,” he said, “That Jungkook guy? He opened my eyes, alright? You’re nothing but trouble. Ever since I got with you, my grades lowered, fuck, my scholarship's even hanging by a thread. My future is on the line. You dragged me into your chaos and I’m finally fucking done.”

You blinked back the sting in your eyes, confusion tightening in your chest. How was Jungkook even involved in this?

“No… Jungkook wouldn’t do that,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “He’s not like that.”

“Oh yeah?” Hoseok barked a bitter laugh, eyes blazing. “Well, he fucking did.”

“Go cry to your sugar daddy or whatever the hell he is to you. I’m done.”

You were speechless.

As much as you hated Hoseok for cheating on you, there was one person you blamed even more—Jeon Jungkook. The tears came before you could even begin to process it all, a sob breaking in your throat as the pain swallowed you whole. Hoseok didn’t spare you a second glance; he shoved you out of his dorm like you were nothing, slamming the door shut in your face.

You felt betrayed...

not just by Hoseok, but by Jungkook.

How could he sabotage the one relationship that meant the world to you? How could he be so cruel and manipulative, as if destroying what you had would somehow bring him any satisfaction?

It didn’t make sense. None of it did.

Jungkook had always been your angel, your protector. The thought of him being the one pulling the strings, the one who ruined you, didn’t make sense.

You wanted so badly to believe that Hoseok was just lashing out, making excuses for his betrayal. But no matter how tightly you clung to that hope, his words rang with a cruel kind of truth that you couldn’t ignore.

You didn’t even know how you got here.

After all the drama, the shouting, the betrayal—after all the tears you’d shed in Hoseok’s hallway just this afternoon—you should’ve been curled up in your bed, buried under blankets, trying to sleep the pain away.

But here you were.

At Jungkook’s building.

At his penthouse.

Driven by rage, betrayal, confusion, everything tightening in your chest until your body moved on its own.

You barely remembered how you got through the lobby. The security guard looked up from his desk and blinked in surprise, but when he saw your face, something in his demeanor softened.

“Miss,” he said gently, “You can go right up. He said you’re always welcome.”

Of course he did.

You hated how familiar this was—how the elevator doors opened to his private floor like the building itself was trained to welcome you. You hated that your trembling fingers still remembered the code. The moment the door swung open, his scent was already wrapping around you like a trap.

And you hated, most of all, that he looked happy to see you.

He was standing in the middle of his massive living room, wine glass in hand, dressed in a soft brown sweater and slacks, like the world hadn’t just been shattered around you.

His smile bloomed the moment your figure came into view.

“There you are,” Jungkook said, voice warm and slow, eyes twinkling as he opened his arms for you.

“Come here, angel. I was just thinking about y—”

Instead of a tight hug, all he got from you was a slap in his cheek.

The slap rang louder than you expected.

His cheek snapped to the side, skin blooming red where your palm struck him.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t react.

Just stood there with his face turned, lips slightly parted, as if you’d short-circuited something in him.

Silence.

Then slowly, his eyes returned to yours as his calm demeanor didn't change.

A slow smile curled at the corner of his mouth—too knowing, too soft, too smug.

“Ah,” Jungkook murmured, the hint of a chuckle in his voice. “So you found out.”

And that was the only confirmation you needed. It was all his doing. A part of you had already known it was him, but you needed to hear it from him, and he delivered.

Your throat tightened, but no tears came this time. You were all cried out.

“So you really did it,” you whispered. “You ruined us.”

Jungkook tilted his head as he eyed you intensely. “Ruined?” he echoed, like it was a foreign word.

He let out a breathy laugh, tongue poking against the inside of his cheek.

“No, baby. I didn’t ruin anything,” he said softly. “I just reminded him of what he already knew.”

You stared at him in disbelief

His eyes dropped to your swollen, puffy face—red-rimmed eyes and cracked lips. He stepped closer, not to console, but to admire.

“I hate seeing you cry,” he murmured, brushing a knuckle against your cheek.

You slapped his hand away.

He didn’t flinch.

“You had no right,” you snapped, voice trembling with restrained fury. “Hoseok and I—what we had, it was real. He loved me. We were—”

“He was weak,” Jungkook cut in smoothly, “and undeserving.”

“You don’t get to decide that!" You shouted at him as your face flushed red from anger.

“I do,” he said calmly, like he was explaining something to a child.

"Don’t you get it, Y/N? You belong to me. After everything I’ve done for you, for your family, and you still dared to choose him? I was being generous, patient, so fucking kind with you. But let me make one thing clear."

He steps closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he grips your chin a little too tightly, leaning in until his lips nearly graze your ear.

"I don’t share. No one touches what’s mine."

Your breath hitched, skin prickling where his words lingered against your ear. It all started to make sense—every sweet gesture, every moment he showed up exactly when you needed someone, the silent ways he looked at you like you were already his. His care had never been brotherly. Not even close. You had been so foolish, blind to the possessiveness hiding behind his soft smiles, mistaking his obsession for affection.

And now that the truth was out, there was no going back.

Your legs felt unsteady as you took a step back, but Jungkook didn’t let you get far. His hand slid from your chin to the side of your neck, gentle yet firm, anchoring you in place.

“You manipulated Hoseok,” you whispered, the realization choking out of you. “You wanted to ruin us.”

He didn’t even flinch. His thumb caressed the curve of your jaw, voice steady and low.

“No. I had to ruin him. Because he was in the way.” His smile curved, slow, and sinful. “He was holding onto something that never belonged to him in the first place.”

Jungkook, you used to know, the boy who used to laugh with you, protect you, was gone. In his place stood a man whose obsession clung to you like a vice, dark and suffocating.

He looks like he could kill in this moment, as you keep on throwing hurtful words at him

“You’re fucking insane! I don’t ever want to see you again! I swear to God, I’ll leave the country if that’s what it takes to get away from you!” you screamed, ripping his hand off your neck with every ounce of strength you had. He was too strong. It took force, and it hurt.

You see, Jungkook had always been patient. Painfully patient. If he hadn’t been, he would’ve taken you years ago.

But now? Now the thread had snapped. And the moment those words left your mouth, something inside him broke.

Leave?

You were going to leave him?

After everything he gave you? After everything he destroyed for you?

“No, baby. You’re not fucking leaving,” he said lowly, eyes dark as he stalked toward you like a predator. He gripped your arm hard, making you stumble back, his breath hot against your face.

“Let go! I’ll tell my father everything!”

He smirked. “Oh yeah? Want me to dial him for you?”

You tried to fight him, lashing out like a wild animal. The vase by the table shattered as your arm knocked into it, and you didn’t even think—you just grabbed a jagged shard and held it up, hand trembling, eyes wild.

“Stay the fuck away from me, you psycho!”

He stared at you with that maddening calm, like you were amusing. Like, your resistance was cute. And then he stepped forward with lethal grace.

He knew his flowering words and soft tone wouldn't work with you in this situation, you left him with no choice but to use a little bit of force in order to tame you.

“You really think I’d let you hurt yourself over something this stupid?”

In one swift movement, he twisted the shard from your fingers, faster than you could react. Before you could scream, his hand was in your hair, the other on your waist, and your head slammed into the wall with brutal force.

The last thing you heard was your name on his lips before everything faded to black

Your head throbbed painfully as consciousness slowly crept in. The ceiling above you was initially unfamiliar—until the soft fabric brushing against your skin, the scent of expensive cologne, and the dim glow of the city lights pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows reminded you exactly where you were.

You're still in his penthouse... in his bed.

You shifted, realizing you were wearing one of your pajama dresses. One you hadn’t worn in ages. One you hadn’t brought here.

A soft voice broke through the fog in your head.

“You’re awake,” Jungkook murmured beside you, his fingers gently stroking your hair, eyes filled with something unsettlingly tender. “You hit your head, baby. I had to take care of you.”

For a fleeting second, you saw him—the version of Jungkook you used to know. The kind smile. The boy who was always there. But you forced yourself to push that illusion away. That version of him is just an illusion, a facade to his true, dark intentions.

You scrambled off the bed in a panic, nearly tripping over yourself as you ran to the door. Locked. Every other exit—locked. No keypad, no handle you could pry open. You darted from one end of the penthouse to another, only to find nothing but dead ends.

“It’s no use,” Jungkook said calmly, standing from the bed, his hands tucked into his pockets as he watched you look for an exit.

“You’re staying here now. I’m not letting you run away from me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” you snapped, voice cracking with disbelief.

Then you saw it—all your designer clothes, your bags, your makeup, your shoes, tucked neatly in his walk-in closet like they belonged there.

Like you belonged here.

You spun to face him, breath short and broken.

“You moved my things…”

“I’ve been preparing this for a while,” he simply said as he slowly walked toward you.

“This is insane,” you whispered, eyes wide with disbelief, your voice trembling before it exploded into a scream. “My parents—they’ll come for me! You’re gonna pay for what you’re fucking doing!”

Jungkook chuckled low, dark, and slow, like he found your defiance amusing. He stepped closer, eyes gleaming with possessive fire as he tilted his head. “Come for you?” he echoed, voice almost mocking. “You mean your greedy parents who work for me now?”

He leaned in, voice dipping into a growl against your ear as he added, “Sweetheart, they’re the ones who sent all your things here. They were more than happy to hand you over to me."

And that’s when it hits you—you’re alone in here, with no one to run to. Even your parents betrayed you, their only daughter, all because they were too blinded by the money Jungkook has.

"No! This is impossible. My parents wouldn’t do that—Jungkook, please," you begged, falling to your knees as you wrapped your arms around his legs. At this point, you didn’t even know why you were begging him. Desperation? Hope? A final plea for the version of him you once knew?

But empathy was the last thing on his mind.

Instead, the sight of you, broken, pleading, lips trembling as you whispered his name, only turned him on.

There was something so intoxicating about having you like this, so helpless and pretty on your knees, as your plump lips were wet with your tears.

Sooner or later, he'd have you crying for something else.

"Shh, sweetheart," he cooed as he crouched down to meet your level, brushing your hair back with a gentleness that contradicted the madness in his gaze. "Stop crying. You’re going to learn to love it here. This is your home now."

Indeed, you had no choice but to stay in his penthouse for these past few weeks, trapped in his world with no way out. Your days blurred into one another, a monotonous loop of routines: a cold, solitary bath, forced meals, and endless hours spent staring at the city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You waited for Jungkook’s return, your mind spiraling as the isolation ate away at your sanity.

The silence was maddening. The lack of human contact drove you to the edge, and desperation took hold.

You missed the life that you once had, partying and going out with friends, attending classes, and so on, so you tried to escape, of course.

The first time, you managed to hurt one of his security guards as you scrambled your way out, though it was of no use as there were too many of them.

The second time, you threatened to harm yourself with a kitchen knife if they didn’t let you out.

That was when Jungkook decided that enough was enough. He began working from home, his eyes always on you, keeping you under his watchful gaze, with every sharp tool that he thought you could use to hurt yourself are now hidden or moved away.

"Ahhh... please stop!" you pleaded as a harsh slap landed on your bum. You were bent over, turned around with your tummy pressed against his knees as he spanked you (if that makes sense).

"Fucking stubborn woman! What did I tell you about lying, huh?!" he growled, landing another slap to your ass. The dress you were wearing had ridden up, exposing your bare core—he hadn’t allowed you to wear any undergarments.

You didn’t know why, but your body had been so needy and hot these past few days. You’d been getting wet out of nowhere, so turned on that you ended up touching yourself in the bathroom whenever he wasn’t around—too embarrassed to let him see you like that.

And just like now, you were already soaked from the way his rough palms met your skin, each slap sending a sting of heat through your core, making you tremble with want.

It was humiliating… and unbearable.

But of course, Jungkook knew everything.

He’d been slipping aphrodisiacs into your meals every time he forced you to sit on his lap and eat like a baby. And yes—he knew how you secretly touched yourself, thanks to the hidden cameras planted all over the house. He got off on watching you fall apart when you thought he wasn’t looking, addicted to how lewd you’d become under his control.

“Dirty whore,” he sneered, fingers suddenly sliding down back and forth to your slick folds. “You’re even getting wet from this, huh?”

You shuddered instantly, a sharp moan ripping from your throat as his fingertips grazed your sensitive pussy lips before spreading it with his fingers, exposing just how soaked and desperate you truly were.

“Look at you,” Jungkook muttered, almost amused as he ran his fingers along your soaked slit, spreading the slickness just to watch you twitch. “Dripping all over my lap like a fucking slut. Getting off on being punished?”

You whimpered, face flushed with heat, your fingers curling into the fabric beneath you as his touch sent sparks down your spine. His voice was low and mocking, but it lit you up in the worst way.

“You act like you hate it,” he said, dipping one long finger inside you without warning, “but your cunt tells me the truth.”

A breathy moan escaped you, hips jerking as the digit curled deep inside. He moved slowly at first, dragging it out just to watch your body react. Then he added a second, scissoring them apart, stretching you as you gasped.

“Such a filthy little thing. Bet you’ve been dreaming of this, huh? My fingers inside you while you grind your pathetic pussy on the bathroom sink,” he hissed into your ear, his fingers now pumping with more force. “You like being watched, baby? Knew I’d see you eventually?”

You couldn’t even form words anymore—just broken moans and whines as your walls clenched around him.

Then came the third finger.

You cried out, your legs trembling as he stuffed you full, knuckles deep now, fucking you rough and slow, like he wanted to feel every desperate flutter inside you. The stretch burned and thrilled you at once, leaving you clawing at his thigh, right on the edge.

So close. You were right there. Vision hazy, thighs slick and shaking, pleasure curling so tight it hurt.

But then he stopped.

Just like that—everything halted. He pulled his fingers out, slow and wet, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing.

You gasped, back arching as if trying to chase the feeling, your body trembling with frustration.

“N-no—please!” you cried, writhing against him, your once stubborn self now long gone, like a passing rain as you begged “Please, Jungkook… don’t stop, please—I need it, I need you—anything!”

He held his slick fingers up to your lips, eyes dark with twisted satisfaction. “Anything?” he smirked. “Then beg like the needy little cumslut you are.”

Without hesitation, you nodded, eyes glassy, lips parting as you leaned in—desperation burning in your gut.

“Yes—please, Jungkook. I’ll be good. I swear. Just—please—”

But he didn’t wait for you to finish.

He pressed his fingers against your lips, the same ones slick with your arousal, and you moaned as you eagerly opened your mouth, sucking them in like they were his cock. Tongue swirling, lips sealing tight around each one, you cleaned them with such obedience it made his cock twitch beneath you.

His jaw clenched as he watched you, his breath shallow, eyes dark and gleaming.

Fuck.

The drug worked.

He knew it would, but seeing the result was another thing entirely.

There you were—his once defiant little brat—on your knees, brain fogged, drooling around his fingers like they were candy. Completely unaware. Completely his.

So sweetly fucked up that you didn’t even care anymore that you were locked in here. That he owned your body, your mind, your every breath.

And now, after all your pathetic little protests, you were begging him to touch you? To fuck you?

Thought you hated me, sweetheart. Thought you wanted to escape.

His cock throbbed at the thought—how far gone you were. How easy it had become to twist your desire into obedience.

And he wasn’t even close to done.

Jungkook slowly pulled his soaked fingers from your mouth, watching your tongue chase after them like you couldn’t stand to be without the taste.

“Good girl,” he muttered, voice thick with hunger. “You want to be fucked that badly, huh? You want to be ruined?”

You nodded, whimpering as you pressed your thighs together, slick leaking down the insides of your legs. “Yes—please, please—kookie"

That was all it took.

He gripped your hips with bruising force and dragged you down off his lap, flipping you over like a ragdoll onto the plush carpet. You barely had time to gasp before he was yanking his sweats down, cock already thick and hard, veins throbbing with anticipation.

“Then take it,” he growled, grabbing your thighs and spreading you open. “Take all of it, slut.”

He slammed into you in one brutal thrust.

Your back arched, a choked scream bursting from your lips as he buried himself to the hilt—stretching you so deep, so full, it knocked the air from your lungs. There was no time to adjust. He didn’t give you that luxury. His hips were already snapping into yours, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing off the walls as he fucked you raw.

“God, listen to you,” he hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back. “Crying on my cock like you were made for this. And maybe you were, huh? Just a filthy little hole to fill up and break down.”

Your mind was gone—drugged, drunk off him, off the stretch and the heat and the possessive grip he had on your body. Your moans turned to sobs, pleasure slamming into you over and over, your nails clawing at the floor as he pounded into you without mercy.

“Gonna come?” he mocked, voice ragged, hips grinding against you with devastating precision. “You’re already close, aren’t you? Fucking pathetic. All it took was a few slaps, a little drug in your food, and now you’re creaming all over my cock like a whore.”

You could only moan his name in response—broken, needy, soaking him with every thrust. The coil in your gut tightened so violently you couldn’t breathe, your body ready to shatter.

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear, his voice like poison and silk.

“Then come for me,” he whispered. “Let me feel this ruined cunt squeeze around me.”

And just like that—you snapped.

Your orgasm hit like lightning, legs trembling, walls clenching around him so tight it dragged a feral groan from his throat. He didn’t stop—riding you through it, fucking you harder, chasing his own high.

“Take it,” he grunted. “Take every fucking drop. Gonna put a baby in you, gonna make you round and full"

With one final thrust, he slammed deep, spilling inside you with a guttural moan, cock pulsing as he filled you full. Your body jerked, overstimulated and wrecked, tears sliding down your cheeks as you lay there trembling under him.

Breathless and used

And Jungkook—still buried deep inside you—grinned.

The room still smelled like sex.

Your body was limp in his arms, skin marked with his touch—red, bruised.

Jungkook hadn't let you move much after he’d fucked you into the floor. He'd simply gathered you into his lap, his cock still wet with your slick, and held you there, stroking your hair like you were the most precious thing he ever ruined.

“I think it’s time,” he murmured against your temple, voice soft. “You’ve been good lately.”

Your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him, dazed and exhausted. “Time… for what?”

“To go see your family.”

Your breath caught.

He chuckled. “Under my watch, of course. couldn't let you be naughty"

Jungkook knew he couldn’t keep you locked up forever. That would only risk bringing back your stubborn streak. No—rewarding you with a bit of freedom was the smarter move. After all, you were already too blind to see that any of this was wrong.

You should’ve felt uneasy or angry, like the first time he brought you here. But you didn’t.

Not anymore.

Now, you understood.

Jungkook was right. He did know what was best for you. You were wrong to think the man you once loved was gone. He wasn’t. He never left. He just needed to tame you—to show you who you truly belonged to.

“Thank you, Kookie,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him, clinging to the only person who ever really saw you.

clearly pleased—finally seeing you with the man they had always wanted for you. It wasn’t just approval in their eyes anymore… it was pride. As if they, too, had finally earned their seat at the Jeon table.

You sat quietly beside Jungkook, his presence towering even in his silence. His hand rested on your thigh beneath the table, firm and possessive. Every so often, he’d squeeze—his palm sliding just a little higher, fingers teasing slow circles into your skin, right where it made you press your legs together.

And then he walked in.

Hoseok.

He wore an apron now, working as a server at the restaurant your parents had chosen. His eyes widened when he spotted you, tray in hand—probably shocked to see you after the messy breakup you had with him.

You should have felt mad that he was there—should’ve remembered how deeply you once loved Hoseok, loved him enough to choose him over Jungkook, again and again.

But you didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even blink.

Because now you knew. You remembered what Jungkook told you—what he made you see.

Hoseok had never loved you. Not really. He’d cheated on you. Lied. Gaslit you into thinking it was your fault.

Only… he hadn’t done it on his own. Jungkook had orchestrated it all—manipulated things behind the scenes to tear you away from him.

And you weren’t even mad about it anymore.

Because he’d been right all along.

You didn’t belong to Hoseok. You never did.

Jungkook squeezed your thigh again and leaned in close, his voice low but unmistakably proud.

“We’ve been trying for a baby,” he said loud enough for Hoseok to hear, tilting his head just so. “Finally setting a date for the wedding too.”

You blushed on cue, eyes falling to your lap, but you didn’t pull away when he kissed your cheek—didn’t protest when his arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you closer.

Hoseok’s mouth twitched like he wanted to say something, but then he nodded stiffly and focused on serving your family before he turned back to the kitchen, defeated.

Good.

Jungkook’s fingers traced idle circles on your hip, slow and smug.

“That’s right, baby,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear.

“You’re mine. Always were”

#jungkook #bts fanfic #yandere jungkook #jungkook oneshot #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts #jungkook x reader #fanfic #bts yandere #bts oneshot #yandere

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fangswbenefits · 2 years ago

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Frustration

Summary: Miguel’s desire for you has been taking a toll on him, and he really has no other option…

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Miguel POV. Masturbation. Sexual frustration. Obsessed Miguel. Inspired by this ask + gif.

* ˚ ✦ Part 2

There you were.

His walking and breathing torment.

You had been plaguing his every thought, and you didn’t even know.

He had lost count to the amount of times he had drained himself thinking of you. Oftentimes, more than once a day.

But his frustration was reaching new heights.

His eyes followed your every move through the orange floating screens in his living room.

You were pacing across sector 13’s warehouse in the middle of the night, working on some new tech. Of course you were. You were just so sweet and generous, and had offered him a helping hand.

How he craved that helping hand to relieve him of his sexual tension.

But for now, he got to watch you from a distance, as he lay sprawled on his couch, a heavy frown setting on his face.

Your fingers moved gracefully from one piece of metal to another, inspecting them carefully, and Miguel vaguely wondered if they would be this attentive while touching his cock.

One hand came to tap the screens so he could zoom in on you.

He had discared his suit for casuals before getting some rest, but he couldn’t help himself.

He had to watch you.

Leaning back with a groan, his cock strained almost painfully against his pants, but Miguel wouldn’t dare touch himself just yet. He needed to train himself to last longer without caving in.

You were absolutely on the task at hand, teeth digging lightly into your bottom lip.

He almost gave up right there and then, but balled his fists instead at his side.

If only you knew how hard he was for you. How much he craved your touch and attention.

A grunt escaped his parted lips as his cock hardened fully, the first beads of precum wetting his skin.

He was so ready for you…

His eyes were glued to the screen, roaming along your body. Your shirt was covered in grime and oil and the neckline was so low that if you were to bend over, he’d be able to take a glimpse.

“Come on…” he muttered under his breath, yearning for that reveal of skin that would tip him over.

You dragged a piece of cloth across your neck to wipe off the sweat, and he scowled deeply.

With him, you wouldn’t need to bother with that. He’d take care of you… he’d wash you clean right after devouring you whole.

His hands itched to set his cock free, but he needed more from you.

You were such a sweet and helpful girl.

Surely you could give him more, right?

He waited… and waited… patience slowly draining.

“Por favor…” he growled almost desperately.

The moment presented itself with you bringing a bottle of water to your lips, eagerly quenching your thirst.

A few droplets dripped down your chin, neck and finally soaking through your shirt.

He had waited for too long and had reached his breaking point.

Even though a part of him felt ashamed to resort to this, he just couldn’t find another way to deal with his frustration.

He brought one hand to rest on his crotch and ran his thumb along the underside of his strained cock, immediately hissing.

Resting his head on the back of his other hand, he felt the frustration taking over him as he knew there was no other way now.

Your bra was visible enough through the shirt for him to picture having his cock placed right in between your breasts that he would squeeze to add more friction.

Lazily dragging the zipper down, Miguel slipped his hand in to finally easy the tension.

His cock curved slightly, strings of precum dripping from the tip and he let lout a shaky sigh of relief.

You were suddenly smiling at something.

Or someone.

Who wasn’t him.

He narrowed his eyes in search of the source, but couldn’t find it.

Jealousy flared inside him like wildfire, coursing through his veins, as his fingers wrapped around his cock.

Why were you, his sweet girl, smiling? You should be right there with him, and he knew you’d gasp at his impressive size and at the realisation of how you made him feel. He’d take his time to make sure you felt comfortable enough to eventually touch him and let him touch you.

His fangs were now protruding in anticipation.

Would you let him graze them across your heated skin? Would you let him lick your neck? Would you let him make you his?

He’d be so good for you…

Miguel started gliding his hand up and down painfully slowly, precum rolling down his knuckles.

You were now fanning yourself with your hand and his hips bucked instinctively.

“Sí, cariño… so hot…” he said in between moans, fucking himself relentlessly.

He increased the grip around his cock, knowing fully well your pussy would squeeze him tighter than this.

It would be a miracle if he managed to last long inside you. He’d want your first time together to be with you on your back, so he could watch your face twist as you struggled to take all of him. He could picture perfectly in his mind how your lips would quiver and how he’d promptly comfort you, reassuring you that he would take it slowly.

His eyes fluttered shut, as he kept fucking his hand, wet sounds adding to the pleasure.

He pictured you riding him, soft moans escaping your lips as he guided you up and down.

Another broken thrust.

Deciding that he needed more visual guidance, his eyes snapped open as he watched as you tapped on your watch.

The one on his wrist beeped and Miguel groaned in pure frustration.

He considered not answering you, but…

“Hey, Miguel,” your sweet voice came through and it took all of him not to burst.

“Hey.”

You were pacing nervously. “I… think I fried the chip. I’m sorry… I thought it’d handle the added voltage.”

So fucking sweet…

He halted his strokes momentarily, inhaling and trying to steady his breathing.

“Say something…” your voice was low. “Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not,” he managed to say, cock twitching at the innocence in your voice.

How could he ever be mad at you?

“Huh… well, I know it’s late… but if you want to come…”

Bad choice of words…

Because he did want to come… deep inside you.

“… or not! You can take a look tomorrow,” you added rapidly with a nervous laugh, and Miguel had to bite the back of his hand to muffle a moan.

“You okay? You sound… breathless…”

Look at you… so concerned with his well-being… he’d love to leave you breathless.

He exhaled slowly. “Yes. Don’t worry about it. You’re doing great,” he said, slipping into his tendency to praise you. “You’re really good.”

“You think so? I mean, you’re the expert here… I’m still learning.”

He dragged the pad of his thumb across the tip, feeling the

“You’re so good,” he nearly moaned out.

“It means a lot coming from you,” she chirped happily, unaware of how close he was. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Bye~”

You were visibly excited on the screen in front of him, and it was evident you had enjoyed his praise and approval.

His sweet girl always so eager to please.

That was enough to bring him over the edge.

He tapped his watch right away, feeling the unstoppable wave of an orgasm flush through his entire body at once as the first streaks of cum shot out, landing on his pants and lower abdomen. He rode out his pleasure with messy rolls of his hips, fingers squeezing out as much cum as possible.

A loud growl erupted from his throat and he did allowed the overwhelming sensation to completely take over.

By the time he came down from his high, breathless and swear rolling down his face, Miguel realised he would have to eventually do something about this. The amount of cum pooling at his lower abdomen was impressive and he knew it was all going to waste.

Unless he made you his.

Part 2

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel x reader

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vashvana · 6 months ago

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List of things that actually happened in JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure:

• David Bowie terrorizes a small Japanese town

• Gay rainbows turn people into snails using subliminal messaging

• A naked man with four balls (2 x 2) wakes up in the dirt

• A bisexual asshole tortures a family for generations

• A mafia group comprised almost entirely of fashionable teenagers set out to eradicate drugs

• One man crashes a plane not once, not twice, but on three separate occasions (and also attends his own funeral)

• A hive mind of sentient plankton inhabit a corpse and infiltrate a prison

• A twink turns into a dinosaur and a nun uses literal genderfluid as a weapon

• Mona Lisa bøner

• A homicidal sugar daddy doctor and his Stockholm syndrome patient spread a deadly virus throughout the city of Venice

• Jesus Christ. Like literally, just Jesus Christ.

• A character creates a Mobius strip (infinity strip ♾️) out of string inside her heart, to counter her organs being turned inside out by an enemy who can redirect the flow of gravity

• A story spawning generations, utilizing completely different genres, casts, and settings. The theme of fate vs free will; the evil of humanity vs the everyday good; choosing your own path- all are exemplified through a creative, genre breaking story with a unique power system. Fate as a concept is not just something used to give the victory to the good guys, it is a tangible known force within the story. One that both acts as something the characters lust after to obtain their goals, but also a metaphorical device to test them and weave the intricacies of their woes. Jaw-dropping, constantly evolving art; fun and complex characters; unpredictable, ever-changing plots, these are but a few reasons for why JJBA is my favorite series. It is committed to being absolutely everything it can be, and highlights the beauties of life.

• also yandere

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asxgard · 3 months ago

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Companionship | pt. 1

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!reader

| Next

Series Summary: He’s not sure how he got here, perhaps it’s the aching loneliness or the overwhelming stress. You’re there because it seems like easy money and you have a pushy friend. All in all, it’s a good deal — he gets the companionship he’s after, no strings, and you get your utility bills paid on time. It’s pretty simple, easy, until your arrangement bleeds into something a bit more…complicated.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: Me?? Coming off hiatus?? Bit nervous about this one, but I’m jumping right in lol not sure how long this’ll be. Struggled between making it a reader fic or making an oc, but here we are.

Takes place prior to The Pitt.

Word Count: 1.7k (they’ll likely be longer going forward — just needed to lay the groundwork)

Warnings: BIG age gap omg (roughly 18 years even after I aged Robby down a bit, ~44), foul language, ptsd mentions, mentions of sex work, descriptions of hospitals/patients and brief mentions of violence at said hospital, mild dubious consent later on (like barely), eventual sexual content (afab!reader), angst, mutual pining, mentions of difference in power dynamic, medical errors bc I am a simple bitch, Dr Robby lacking some emotional intelligence/bottled up feelings. (Also you go to school for accounting and have two named friends). Slowburn. Mature themes.

This is not a promotion of such gaps or sugar daddies in general — it was just an idea I had and I couldn’t get it out of my head. Dr Robby seems like a good man, so I doubt would actually seek out such a relationship, but I have no doubt that that man is lonely and stressed as hell lol and this is my fic soooo

not beta read

Michael Robinavitch really had no idea how he had ended up in this situation, sat in that little cafe miles away from his normal stomping grounds. There was the obvious — getting on the subway and physically walking into the building, but the events that led him there nearly made him stand and walk back out.

It had started with a patient he’d had several weeks prior; a man not much older than himself, who had no family, and money to burn. The pretty woman who had come to visit was out of his league, painfully so, but she had sat diligently by his bedside and comforted him while the residents ran all the necessary tests. When she had slipped out of the room to make a phone call, the man had boasted.

His once complicated relationship with Heather Collins aside, Dr. Robby usually found such age gaps problematic and messy; a man looking to take advantage of such a gap or a woman looking to gain monetarily, or both. In his experience, it was rarely pure intentions — but what the man had gone on to explain after a confused look of one of the residents, was they weren’t in a relationship. They weren’t even having sex. He was simply paying for a beautiful woman’s companionship. No complex relationship, no true illegal activity or prostitution; just a busy man and an uncomplicated solace.

“Not really even a sugar daddy,” the patient had explained to Dr. Robby and Perlah, doped up on pain meds, “though it’s a fine comparison.”

What two grown adults got up to in their free time was their own business, the patient’s voice rang in Robby’s head, and if a man likes to spoil his lover or his friend, then that’s not illegal.

His heart thumped anxiously in his chest. This was only going to be a distraction, one completely unconnected to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center and that would be a breath of fresh air. Besides, if this turned out to be a complete disaster, he could just go on with his life. No changes.

—

You took the long way to the cafe, anxiety eating at your insides. Why had you allowed Erin to convince you this was a good idea? It had seemed harmless at the start — laughing and joking with Erin while you downloaded the app, talking to a handful of guys looking to spoil you. Eventually settling on one particularly reserved man (which you found mildly endearing) and securing a “first date”. It had been thrilling. It had even been fun.

At least while it was all over the phone. Now it was real and you had such an urge to turn around and run for the hills.

University was expensive, and between clocking in as many hours at your office job and still staying on track with your classes, you still found that rent was hard to keep up with. Erin had found you in a state of distress over a bowl of cheap ramen, explaining quite plainly what she did to supplement her income. It seemed like it would be too easy. Erin told you she didn’t start out with anything sexual, mostly just spending time with lonely older men and keeping them company.

It turns sexual only if you want it to, but the pay can be better, was the only relief that echoed in your head. The control lies with you, and never let that change.

It only calmed you slightly — that, and the fact that if this date went terribly, or in a way that you became uncomfortable, you could call it all off. He didn’t have your number, or any personal information, only your first name. No arrangements had been made or agreed to, and you found comfort in it. You thought to go in and just get it over with, return back to your apartment and tell Erin: “It’s just not for me.”

Maybe you could pick up DoorDashing instead.

Before opening the door to the cafe, you quickly sent your location to Erin and sent a text to Marsi about coming by to study in a few hours.

You were instantly hit with the calming aroma of coffee once inside, though you felt too jittery to order any. You settled on decaf tea before turning to the tables on the far side of the cafe. You wondered if he was on time, or if you would instead pick the table. Maybe he won’t show.

You caught sight of him almost immediately and it made your heart jump with a renewed sense of anxiety. He was here. He was here.

His eyes were on his own cup, though you knew they were brown from his picture. His hairline was only slightly receding, with his hair thinning slightly atop his head, plenty of laugh lines adorning his face and a thick beard that held several grey hairs. His features seemed scrunched up in thought, dark brows pulled together. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive, part of the reason you had accepted his request in the first place. If you were going to do this, it wasn’t going to be with someone you could barely look at. You could fake a lot of things, but genuine interest was not one of them.

“Michael?” You asked softly, hand on the back of the chair opposite him.

He looked up and gave a stiff smile, before confirming your name.

You smiled back at him, nodding. You pulled the seat back and sat with slow, calculated movements. Feeling his eyes on you made you swallow thickly, nerves running a rampage through your insides.

Erin had coached you, explained good questions to ask to suss out the bad ones, plus her own advice as to what she looked for and what was a red flag. All the advice seemed to flow right out of your head.

“How are you?” You asked, thumb tracing over the lid of your tea.

He huffed a small laugh, “I’m…fine.” A pause. “Look, I’ve never done this and I don’t—”

Relief pooled through your insides, though the nerves held strong. “Well, at least that makes two of us.”

His brown eyes met yours, seemingly surprised. He swallowed.

Maybe he was looking for direction.

Your eyes flickered to your tea and back again. “So, can I ask what made you sign up in the first place?”

He leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah,” his expression suddenly turned uncomfortable, his left cheek scrunched up almost in a wince. “I’m just looking for some…companionship.”

Perhaps he was embarrassed.

You nodded, taking a slow sip of your hot tea. “Anything specific?”

His eyes flickered up to meet your gaze and he blinked. His eyebrows rose, “Nothing sexual,” he said, voice dropping into a whisper at the last word. “Just someone to listen, call and talk to, I suppose.”

Your heart stopped racing. “No interest in a girlfriend?”

“I’m too busy for that.” Though it seemed more like a deflection.

You watched him curiously, raising a brow, “Alright. Something like a friend, then?”

He considered it. “Someone unconnected to my life.”

—

He said unconnected, but he meant not worried about my wellbeing. He dealt with too many people asking how he was, too concerned with the past. He needed someone that let him breathe, someone he could reach out to on his own terms with no strings attached. Someone who wouldn’t pry, someone who would not be offended by his long silences and his avoidance of talking about his emotions. Someone who doesn’t look at me like I’m damaged.

“More like a companion.” He explained, elaborating, “I need someone who can give me more space than a friend would, who’s okay if we don’t talk for days at a time. Something easy and uncomplicated.”

“Ah, I understand.”

At least he didn’t sound insane. He had a few friends, but he frequently felt like he was putting on an “I’m okay” mask whenever he was around them. He didn’t want to wear that mask with just one person.

“Yeah,” he bit the inside of his cheek, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “What is it you’re looking for?”

You smiled, adding to the warmth of your face. You were beautiful, with pretty eyes and hair pulled out of your face. Far too out of his league, and young. Your profile showed an age that put you at nearly eighteen years apart. But, a corner of his mind whispered, it’ll be nice to have a beautiful woman’s attention.

“A bit of a distraction myself,” you told him, pursing your lips. “I’ve been quite stressed with school and it’ll be nice to not think about all that from time-to-time.” Then you smiled. “And maybe get some help paying my utility bill.”

He chuckled, soft and quiet, matching the grin on your face. “What do you go to school for?”

“Accounting,” you answered after a beat. “I’m working on my masters. What do you do for work?”

“I’m a doctor.” He said, careful to not elaborate much more. He was proud of his position, but he wanted whatever this was going to be to be completely separate from his professional life.

You seemed to understand, not asking any follow up questions that most people might have asked.

After only a handful more questions, you seemed satisfied. He asked about allowance, and your expectations, and found you would be a fine fit for each other. He felt a strange calmness overcome him as your conversation melded into small talk.

When you excused yourself to leave, you explained you wanted a day or two to sit on it. You expressed it wasn’t him, but the situation at hand that you wanted to think about. It brought comfort to him, knowing you were both a fish out of water in this situation.

Michael left the cafe feeling lighter than when he had entered, taking a long walk back home — silently deliberating. You were easy enough to talk to, and seemed to understand right away when to ask questions and when not to pry. You weren’t asking for anything outlandish in return, or even looking to make a living this way, only needing some help to finish school. He understood that, Pittsburgh wasn’t the most expensive city someone could live in, but add in school loans and he could see why you turned to supplemental income, as you had put it.

By nightfall, he’d received a message though the app hidden in a locked folder on his phone.

It was your number.

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